#the carnation fairytale

[princess-ibri]

King Magnifico Backstory : Part One

Ok! Here goes part one for my ideas for Magnifico’s backstory with the DisneyVerse! I based it on the fairytale “The Carnation/ The Pink” as recorded by the Brothers Grimm, the tale of a young man who’s every wish comes true…

Link to the fairytale I’ve based this on here

Once upon a time, a lonely, childless queen wished upon a star, and the star answered. The Fairy of the star said that for the Queen’s great kindness and pure heart, the child would be blessed with beauty, charm and that he would have the power to grant the wishes of his people, in order to bless the kingdom he would one day inherit.

(This is me justifying that “Mirrors love my face/got these genes from outer space” line xD)

The queen was overjoyed with her son, and marveled at the magic he already displayed. She intended to keep his gift secret from the kingdom until he was older, in order to protect him, but it was too late. Word of his gift had leaked out, and one day the child was kidnapped.

He grew up under the watchful eye of his “parents”, granting them whatever they desired, wish after wish, day after day. Gowns and jewels, a manor house on the kingdom’s border, a fleet of fine hunting hounds to tear up the countryside. A covering of protection from any who might try and discover their whereabouts.

The child gave it all to them, for he felt the power of Love inside him when he used the gift that was meant to bless, and thought the love came from them.

They told him to never be selfish and wish for himself, though this was only to keep him from one day wishing in anyway that might undermine them. They lived in luxury and he in loneliness, for they of course allowed none to get to close to their prize lest another steal their good fortune.

Finally though, when the boy had become a youth, his loneliness became too great, and he wished deep in his heart for companionship. And the wish was granted. A beautiful young woman stood before him, shocked to be suddenly in a strange place before a strange man. But the youth was so comely, and spoke to her kindly and with assurances she would be safe with him, that soon she lost her fear. She still wished to return home, but the youth persuaded her to remain with him a while longer.

(He’s not evil yet obviously, but he’s always been a smooth guy and now he’s got a taste of having something he wants he’s loath to let it go. Which is understandable but can and will of course turn darker…)

For a time the youth hide the girl within the hallow of the pink rose bush in the center of the garden, and their loved bloomed with the roses they both found sanctuary in.

But eventually they were discovered by the youth’s “Father”. The boy confessed he had wished for a companion, and the man feigned acceptance. He asked the girl her name and origin, and she told him she was called Amaya, and that she hailed from the Kingdom of Córdoba. Upon further questioning, the man realized his stolen ‘son’s wish had pulled a woman to him from a completely different world.

Realizing the youth’s power would soon grow out of any control they could exact over him, the man and his wife determined to cut their losses and finally do away with him, lest their treachery be uncovered. Unbeknownst to them, the youth had overheard their plot, and began to plot his vengeance against the people he had believed to have been his parents.

Meanwhile, the leacherous man had taken a fancy to the girl, Amaya. He told her that if she aided him in getting rid of the youth he would aide her in returning back to her own world. Amaya had no interest in either the foul man nor in betraying the youth she had come to love, but she knew if she did not do as the man asked both she and her lover would be killed. So she took the heart of one of the man’s beloved hounds and brought it to him, claiming it to be the heart of the youth.

She rejected the man’s advances though, refusing him vehemently and reminding him their bargain was for him to help her to return home. Pretending to accept her rejection, the man waited until night to steal into her rooms within the manor, with a dagger drawn to plunge into the sleeping girl.

But he was met with the livid face of his erstwhile ‘son’ instead.

“So, ‘Father’, at last you show your true face. Your heart is a coal of envy, your wishes are cruel and selfish, you would take and kill with no more thought then your beloved hunting dogs do. So I wish that your outward self might reflect the beast within you!”

And with those words, the man’s bones shook and snapped, his hair darkened and spread, and soon enough a great beast spawns tearing around the manner, fire pouring from its insides as it burned all the ill gotten gains in the manor, and itself along with it.

The youth attempted to return to his true mother, but tragedy has struck while he grew up ignorant of his heritage. The King, furious that the son he had waited so long for had been stolen, blamed the Queen for the tragedy, and locked her within a doorless tower. A bird came twice a day to bring her food, but her heart was broken, and she eventually wasted away. The people, who had loved the kind queen, rose up against the cruel king, and the kingdom was left broken and destroyed.

The youth had no wish to stay in this place, full of the memories of all the good that had been destroyed by two greedy thieves. The youth, a man now, innocence scorched from him, kept a part of the banner that once hung in the grand hall to remind himself the folly of granting the wishes of the undeserving

He was ready however to grant the wish of the one who had not betrayed him, his beloved Amaya. Her wish brought them a ship that would carry them across the waves of sea and space, and together they sailed off into another world…

Edit: Part 2

[luxuriesofkashmiir]

Exquisite Staples in Pantone Color of the Year

Every year, we see a new color making the Pantone color of the year, some of which are rare, and some that are very much a part of our everyday lives. This year the color of the year happens to be the dreamy Peach Fuzz - a delicate hue nestled between the lighter tones of pink and orange. This delightful color is soothing, soft on the eye and a lovely tone to sport. At Luxuries of Kashmir, we have chosen our top picks in tones quite similar to the beautiful peach fuzz so that you can embrace the softness of the color while making a powerful style statement in authentic Kashmiri luxe pieces crafted to perfection.

Fairytale Fusion Set

First up on our list is a whimsical pick - a contemporary fusion set made from luxe organza and festooned with silken threads. The set features a shirt tailored with ruffled sleeves and delicate details like dainty buttons, a belt to wrap around your body and accentuate your best features. The dreamy skirt fashioned from organza features an elaborate tapestry of floral embroidery in silken thread depicting the beautiful flowers of the valley. The magic of colors and artisanship of Kashmiri craftsmen shine through in this masterpiece. The fusion set is an ideal choice if you are looking for contemporary pieces that can elevate your look and make a statement - it is perfect for special occasions and celebrations that require you to look your very best.

Carnation Bliss Sharara

There’s one thing more elegant than a well-tailored sharara and that is a well-tailored peach sharara. This set is an embodiment of feminine silhouettes and accents that breathe life into your wardrobe. The sharara features a tunic accentuated with puff tilla embroidery along the bodice, sleeves and collar in the most gorgeous shades of ivory depicting flora in bloom. The full sleeved tunic depicts layers of sophistication and craftsmanship blended into one elegant form. The pair is complete with a flowy peach sharara with embroidery at its helms and a dreamy dupatta with embroidered edges. Overall, this is an exceptional masterpiece that is timeless and graceful - the perfect buy if you are looking for a piece that screams perfection.

Peach Panache Sharara

Yet another gorgeous peach creation from our collection - the peach panache sharara set is a dreamy attire that will ensure you look and feel your absolute best. The set features a gorgeous tunic made from luxe georgette featuring intricate puff tilla embroidery. The tunic is an embodiment of grandeur with its elevated silhouette and the detailed embroidery. It cinches at the waist accentuating the look of the tunic further and making you feel like a dream. The sharara itself is festooned with embroidery perfectly complimenting the grandiose of the tunic. Together, the tunic and sharara with the breezy dupatta make for a whimsical outfit that you cannot miss!

Peach Fuzz is here to stay another 11 months and it is now the right time to invest in pieces that keep you on par with trends. When you wear an outfit Luxuries of Kashmiri, you're not just wearing clothes; you're telling a story. A story of sophistication, sustainability, and timeless elegance. Join the peachy movement and make a statement that goes beyond the ephemeral world of fashion trends.

More Information:- https://bit.ly/3HsTmNX

[milkteabinniechan]

Pink Carnations - A Bridgerton Story

ko-fi // m.list

pairing: Bridgerton Au! Chan x female reader

a/n: This was a labor of love honestly and I wanted to break out of my normal writing comfort zone so thank you all for giving me the platform to do that <3 I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Please leave feedback!! It helps me out sm

Chapter One

Pink carnations lined the pathway to your house. That's how you knew spring was arriving. Long lines of pink. You'd push open your bedroom windows and breathe in the freshly cut grass, you'd let the warm breeze press past your hair, tickling your neck and shoulders.

It was your wedding day.

"Everyone is waiting downstairs, ma'am." A chambermaid squeaked from the doorway.

She was a new hire. A small, meek little thing that didn't talk much and avoided all eye contact. You had attempted many times to spark up a conversation with her, but all your efforts had fall flat thus far. You turned towards the door and gave her a firm nod. You took a deep breath in and made your way towards the stairs. Your dress swirled and swept across your legs as you moved.

You absolutely adored your dress. Long, flowing chiffon cascaded down your hips, falling to your feet at perfect length. A beaded corset swam up your waist and chest, while delicate lace fabric draped your shoulders, trickling down like a spring rain.

You counted your footsteps as you ascended down the staircase; one, two, three, four. Before you knew it, you were in the main hall of your family home. The kitchen staff had decorated every corner of the enormous mansion you called home. As you glanced around the room, there was only one person you were really looking for.

Chan was a potential suitor but he never pursued you. Gentlemen brought flowers to your door nearly every day. Bouquets of roses and purple tulips filled your room like something out of a fairytale. But he never sent so much as a flower petal.

"No carnations? Do these men not know you at all?" Your sister had notes the lack of your favorite flora.

Now it was your wedding day, a perfectly respectable man by the name of Felix Lee had asked for your hand in marriage. He came from a wealthy family

And had always treated you with the utmost respect. He was very well-liked in the town. Quite the charmer to the gaggle of ladies that had found themselves swarming him every chance they could. He had a beautiful smile and effortlesslessy gorgeous hair. You found yourself shrinking around him whenever he would speak, fearing that the light he exuded would burn you away.

But however magical Felix seemed, you still found yourself searching for Chan around every corridor. The whole town had been invited to this momentous occasion as Lady Whistledown had so affectionately called it.

She had gushed ansd gooned over the entire guest list, right down to the third cousin of the second aunt of the twice removed great uncle of… whatever. This was a spectacle. This was not for you. You were the eldest of your family. As your mother had never bore a son, the responsibility came down to you to marry someone in good standing to provide for your family. Although you would not live in this place anymore, your siblings and your parents would be well taken care of.

“The newest Whistledown has just arrived!” a valet ran into the dining hall with a small white paper in hand. 

“She’s writing on the day of your wedding? That has to be a good sign.” Your sister nudged your shoulder with hers.

The two of you shared a smile that quickly faded when you saw the shocked faces slowly peppering across the room. Judgemental eyes shot through you like rusty nails, leaving an infectious monster spreading through your entire body. Your mother crossed the marble floor to hand you the latest gossip. Your hands began to shake as you lifted the small sheet to your face.

Dearest, Gentle Reader, 

They say what is good for the goose is good for the gander, but what if the goose has taken a GANDER at another? This writer has heard a rumor most scandalous, about a certain Lady that has spent a significant amount of her time and attention on someone who is NOT her groom to be. A man in good standing is only considered as such if the company he keeps holds themselves to the same standards. Perhaps this bride may be having second thoughts?

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson

[2truehearts]

✦ — BUT DARLING, YOU ARE THE ONLY EXCEPTION.

✦ CHARACTER/S︰ijekiel alpheus & lucas from wmmap (who made me a princess).

✦ SYNOPSIS︰love can bloom and burn in any heart at the first sunlit-brindled brief—whether it be bounded by duty, ice, or disbelief; as long as that epitome of affection is you, they suppose they can make an exception and make some space—or in which they fall in-love with you first glance and sight.

✦ CONTENT WARNING/S︰nothing other than one swear word (fuck), & the general fluff and infatuation (from the character/s) + everything is proofread with the wc 200 - 300 each.

✦ A/N︰making my debut as a manhwa writer on main is not the ideal move but idk where to post it okay (side eyes the 2367838 sideblogs under this one/silly (also the title is inspired by "the only exception" by paramore <3 it's bleeping awesome go and give it a listen!!))

IJEKIEL IS NOT ONE TO FALL IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, to have his world still for a few seconds while his heart overrides and blood races to the forefront of his cheeks—but dear heavens, were you the only exception to that rule bound by duty and a planned future in his chest. you surely weren’t the epitome of grace or as enchanting as the gods, but to him you were enough—more, than enough, truly.

he first met you in an arrangement of his father and your parents from your vague childhood—but oh, how he remembers every second of that first meeting. when the doors opened to you bowing in front of him with a barely-hidden smile of excitement curving the tips of your mouth to look at him with big, bright eyes of wonder staring directly at the copy of the sun—not once backing down to blink or burn away from awe and fluster. so ijekiel does that instead.  his skin flares with the color of blooming carnations, sunlight-prickled hues wide from childish panic at the sudden increased beating of his heart.  was something wrong with him? he felt light-headed and dizzy, stomach twisting, tossing and turning as if he was about to faint from merely seeing you presented before him like the finest muse of a pristine piece of art, incomparable to anything else other than itself. what should he do? should he compliment you? should he act indifferent and use a practiced smile? his mind is trying to adjust to the drastic changes of his swayed heart, but the boy just can’t seem to do just that when he’s faced with a fairytale protagonist right in front of him—and he blinks, catching something from the corner of his eye—and is brought back down to earth when he sees his father’s questioning gaze. then, bows with a smile, greeting you further in to sit down and perhaps enjoy a cup of tea with him?  you said yes out of common courtesy, but that only made his smile grow wider.

LUCAS FIRMLY DOES NOT BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, like come on—who believes in love like that these days? naive little kids? newly adolescent noble ladies? men of high and poor status? it’s simply too . . . unlikely to actually happen in his eyes. the butterflies when you meet “the love of your life’s” eyes? could be the early signs of constipation. the flush in your cheeks when there’s too much prolonged eye contact with them and the dizziness of your heart and mind? could be an oncoming migraine, headache, or a sign you're being possessed by some evil spirit, y’know? anyways, enough joking aside—the point is, he finds the subject some far-fetched fairytale that is highly impossible even with the magic he has—that is, until, you waltz into his life. the things he feels when he's around you is something that could be described as a contradiction. the first gazing into your eyes turns the world upside and back again, the first brush against your fingertips suck all the air out of his chest, the first chuckle that he manages to rouse from deep within your giddy joy paints him a shade darker than his eyes from head to toe—holy fuck were there a lot of firsts that made him experience everything and anything all at once; with most he can't even explain properly without sounding so . . lovesick. god do you make him sick to the last bone with whatever sorcery you possess. in short; when in love, lucas is everything that correlates to being stupidly infatuated and is constantly reeling himself in by a hair’s breadth back to the surface when you smile, laugh, or simply exist next to him—like, can you imagine how utterly moronic it is to see how degenerate he’s become from before you?! . . . but, if it makes you happy, he’ll gladly be idiotic for the rest of his life (though, that depends if you're gonna annoy him or not).

✦ — @khasmies 2023.

[elixirfromthestars]

My Dearest

Pairing: Duke!Bucky Barnes x Lady!Reader (Regency Era AU — Bridgerton Inspired ) 

Summary: On the night of Lady Maximoff’s ball you find yourself in the gardens, troubled by your emotions. As if by fate, the rain pours down reuniting you with the one who is the very object of your troubles.

Word Count: 3k

Warning(s): heartbreak / angst / longing / implications of cheating / rejection / creative liberties for this era (yes I did do research, but bear with me if there are any inaccuracies in this piece of fiction 🤍) / a surprise cameo / female reader

a/n: This little piece has been in the works since I got into the Bridgerton series. Binge-watching the spinoff Queen Charlotte this weekend gave me the motivation to finish this piece. Thank you for reading! 🤍 Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ❤️

for ambiance 🌧️

Your fingertips poked at the surface of the water in the fountain. Unstemmed red carnations danced along the water to the rhythm of the ripples. The faint music of the ballroom was ever so slightly drowned out by the stream pouring from the fountain at the center of the garden. You were sitting on the edge of it, hoping to ease your nerves with some fresh air. You wished you had brought a coin with you to throw in the fountain and wish your worries away. 

Wishes, however, were for children and the fairytales they believed in. You were no longer a child nor were you in a fairytale—much to your dismay. Your father made sure you knew of this, reminding you of your duties at every possibility. As the only child of the one and only Earl L/n, you were expected to marry into a higher status. Your mother, on the other hand, wished for you to marry for love and nothing more. 

You thought you had found both—you almost had both. 

Unfortunately, the one you truly desired broke your heart before he even fully had it. You pushed the thought of him away, for he was the very reason your emotions were an entangled mess. 

You looked down at your ball gown, its baby blue color muted by the lack of lighting in the approach of nightfall. You tugged at the ends of it lightly, wanting nothing more than to be at home wearing your nightgown instead. One of your favorite romance novels in hand, basking in the warmth of the fireplace. You always dreamed of having your own happily ever after, and for a while, you thought you had. A love story any poet would be over the moon to muse over. 

You were sadly mistaken.

A few droplets of rain plopped themselves onto your arm. You scanned the sky above you, the once royal blue evening turning a smoky grey. A clear sign it would soon start to rain. It was only a slight drizzle, making you realize a few of those fallen droplets weren’t from the clouds above, but from your very own eyes. 

You couldn’t let the prince see you like this.

You rose from your spot and searched the garden for a place to compose yourself. In the near distance stood a greenhouse decorated with overgrown ivy, obstructing the view of the inside. A perfect place to hide away from your troubles and the rain.  

You lifted the ends of your ball gown, making sure to not muddy or tear any part of it, as you made your way to the greenhouse. You stepped inside, immediately enamored with the various flora surrounding you. You knew Lady Maximoff treasured her garden, but never in your wildest dreams could you have conjured up the breathtaking view before you.

You strolled along the path, taking it all in. The rain started to come down in a pour, ridding any outside noise from coming through. Thus making it harder to hear the footsteps that were approaching you.

“ Y/n? My dearest, what are you doing here?” You froze in your spot, recognizing the voice of the one who broke your heart. You turned to see James Buchanan Barnes the Duke of Brooklyn standing a few feet away from you, drenched from head to toe. It seems he too was caught in the rain. 

“ Your grace, my apologies. I did not know you were here. Please excuse me,” you attempted to remove yourself from the situation, but he wouldn’t let you. Stopping you by your hands, holding them delicately. 

A frown overtook his features,“ Why do you address me so formally? Have we not grown past this?”

You swallowed hard, not wanting to dwell on this topic of conversation for long,“ We did, but like anything that grows, there comes a time when it withers. We have withered.” 

You yanked yourself from his grasp, his mouth parting in disbelief, “ Y/n, what are you saying? Is this because of the prince? Have you indeed traded your love for me for the status he can bring you?” He threw the accusation in your face with such disdain you felt as though he had struck you. 

A rage bubbled within you. 

“ How dare you? Do you truly think so little of me? I would have given up the world for you. You, however, would never have done the same,” you turned to walk away again and he swiftly maneuvered his way in front of you, blocking your path. You felt tears prickle at your eyes, but you forced yourself not to cry in front of him. 

“ I apologize. I did not mean to insult you. It is only that you have been so cold toward me lately, and I do not understand why. At tonight’s ball, all I wanted was to have you in my arms once more and instead, I had to stand there like a fool watching you dance with the prince. I left for the gardens when the incessant rumors of a marriage between you two were all anyone could talk about,” his eyes searched yours for an answer, resentfulness lacing his every word. 

You looked down, not being able to meet his eyes, “ I do not have to justify myself to you. And those rumors. . .are not rumors. I believe the prince should propose any day now.” By the end of your sentence, you feigned what little confidence you had left and fixed your posture, ready to face James with a steady gaze. However, as soon as you met his eyes you found yourself taking a step back. 

James looked at you like he had taken a bullet to the heart.

“ And what of us? My dearest, I do not understand what I have done wrong. Tell me, so that I may fix it. I cannot bear to lose you,” his hand reached for yours to pull you in closer. You side stepped his advances, his hand recoiling at your relentless rejection. 

You took in a deep breath, a sigh escaping your lips,“ You already have. The moment you decided to entertain other women while claiming your heart was mine. I am the fool for believing your grace was honest about courting me.” Irritation crept its way back into your heart at the memory. 

This caught his attention as he stared at you with a puzzled expression,“ Is that what this is about? Y/n, you must know that was merely for diplomacies��for business. ”

You bit the inside of your lip to refrain from insulting the man in front of you. “ Then that is what I was then, merely a means to a business transaction between you and my father. Did you think I would not find out? My father would have never invested in that mine of yours if it were not for him believing we were courting. It was no coincidence that as soon as the papers were signed you were seen with Lady Natasha alone in your home,” you paused for a moment, realizing you had raised your voice at James, causing you to take a deep breath before continuing, “ You should be grateful my father is not holding you to any responsibilities since he is now focused on assuring I become royalty.” 

James’ fists were clenched at his sides,“ How could you doubt my honor? How could you ever doubt that my heart is anyone's but yours? My business with Lady Natasha is nothing but a misunderstanding. I swear on my honor.” 

You scoffed, “ Your honor means nothing to me. Your reputation of being the most prolific Rake in town precedes you. I should have believed everyone when they warned me.” His lips formed a tight line, an impatience overtaking him, “ You should know by now my darling, I do not care what others whisper in the shadows. You are all I care about, and if that is what you truly think of me then—you wound me.” 

You shook your head, ready to retaliate once more with your words when he swiftly made his way to you and held you by your shoulders. “ I love you. I am certain what fuels this frustration and hatred toward me is the love you feel for me,” his voice was gentle, his features softening. His eyes held you in your place, as your body longed to be closer to him. A mere touch and a part of you was already screaming at you to forgive him. 

The two of you stood there for a moment, staring at each other’s eyes not saying a word. You had no strength to pull away from his grasp, “ Your heart will move on. It will find love in another,” your response was reduced to a whisper by the end. You weren’t sure if you were trying to comfort him or yourself with your words. 

He shook his head, “ My dearest, the heart here has no say. I cannot say I love you with all my heart for it will one day stop beating. I love you with my entire soul, for my love for you will live on with it for all eternity. I am forever bound to you.” James’ declaration tugged at your heartstrings. 

“James. . .” his name dropped from your lips in a pleading whisper. Whether that was for him to stop or keep going—you weren’t sure anymore. You were left speechless. Any protests or rebuttals that were initially in your mind were gone with one declaration. He pulled you in closer—if that were possible—and embraced you, planting a passionate kiss on your lips. You returned it with as much intensity.  

You melted into each other, the reciprocated love burning into you. This one kiss ignited within you all of the feelings you were trying so desperately to extinguish. James tasted of wine and smelled of sandalwood, a combination you found strangely addicting. 

One of James’ hands slipped down your back, your own gravitating to the nape of his neck. He pressed his body against yours, a small gasp escaped your lips allowing him to deepen the kiss. The continuous kisses he bestowed upon you grew needier by the minute. If his words weren’t getting through to you, he wanted to make sure his lips did. 

His mouth moved down to your neck, continuing to show his devotion to you. Your body betrayed you as it leaned to the side giving him easier access. You held in a breath at the sensation. It was evident no one could make you feel the way James does.

This was the opposite of what you had been striving for these last few weeks. Your father made it clear to you how important it was for the family for you to rise to the status of a princess. The prince had been kind and charming, but he was no match for James. You knew there was no argument to be had with your father since now that a prince was interested in you, there was no way in hell he was going to accept a Duke as his son in law. You didn't care and figured that in time he would forgive you once he realized how in love James and you were. You hoped he would see what your mother saw and accept this path to your happiness. 

That was before the incident.

  A month ago you took a carriage ride to James’ home accompanied by your Lady’s maid Kate. The purpose of this escapade was to confide in James over your father’s intentions. Unbeknownst to you, his true intentions would be brought to light instead. 

Your carriage was merely a block away when you spotted them. They were laughing as James’ footmen escorted both him and Lady Natasha inside. There was no one else in sight and no one else entering the home with them. This meant they were in there alone and unchaperoned. Only impatient lovers would resort to such means knowing a scandal could break out if they were caught.

You clutched at your chest, overwhelmed with the way it ached. You felt as though James had come up to you and ripped it out of your chest, exposing it to everyone to gawk and laugh at. To laugh at how stupid Lady Y/n had become in thinking the biggest Rake in town had truly, madly, and deeply fallen in love with her. 

Kate took you in her arms and ordered the coachmen to take the long way back home. You sat there, crying into her shoulder throughout the entire journey. You vowed that day to never fall for James’ charms ever again.  

The memories of that day hit you full force and knocked the air out of you. Your body caught up to your brain and with as much strength as you could muster you pushed James off of you. He looked shaken by your reaction, staggering back almost tripping over a cluster of purple hyacinths. 

With your anger at his betrayal still fueling you, you lifted your chin in the air and spoke your final words to him,“ You cannot water what has already withered and believe it will come back to life.” 

You didn’t bother to look at him this time, knowing too well the expression on his face was one that would make your resolve crumble in an instant. You quickly turned and ran out of the greenhouse and back into the garden. The rain was still coming down in a pour, soaking you from head to toe. Tears were streaming down your face and the ends of your ball gown were now covered in mud. In spite of that, you continued to run to the furthest part of the garden closest to the carriages and farthest from Lady Maximoff’s manor.

You were yearning to be home—to be in your mother’s arms and bask in her comfort. To have Kate prepare you the warmest cup of tea and sugary scones to indulge in. Anything to remove the taste of wine and the smell of sandalwood that was now deeply imbedded into your senses. This in hopes to forget the events of tonight ever happened. 

“ Miss Y/n, you are soaked to the brim, we must get you home. I shall fetch the Marchioness at once,” your coachman draped a blanket from the servant’s quarters over your shoulders and helped you into your carriage. You hugged it tightly against you as the coachman walked away to get your aunt, the Marchioness of Syracuse. You had completteley forgotten she was the one who accompanied you tonight. How were you going to explain your current state to her? 

“ Miss Y/n?”

That voice—you know that voice.  It belonged to the person you least wanted to see at this moment. A lady should never let a prince see her like this. 

“ Your Highness, I beg of you not to look in the carriage. I was caught in the rain and I am not proper,” the door of the carriage was wide open, the prince’s emerald green attire coming into view. You angled your body so that he could only see the bottom half of your ball gown, hiding your face from him. 

“ Your wish is my command, my lady,” he stood by the entry of the carriage facing froward, his side profile visible to you. Your shoulders relaxed, relieved he didn’t have to see you at your worst. His personal attendant was beside him, holding an umbrella above him to ensure his royal highness was not touched by the rain. 

“ I must thank you for bestowing upon me the pleasure of dancing with you tonight. I regret we did not get to spend more time together. You looked absolutely breathtaking in your dress,” he complimented you, bringing a smile to your face. “ You flatter me, your Highness—thank you. I will make sure to not get caught in the rain next time, so that our dances may continue.” You made light of your situation, bringing out a soft chuckle from him. 

“ No matter if there is rain. I would gladly charge right into the storm of it if it meant I could have you by my side,” he stated, a warmth overtaking your cheeks. Any flirtations coming from another man other than James were foreign to you and flustered you easily. James’ flirtations were inviting and expected, while others were far from it. They felt wrong to hear and to accept. In doing so, it was as if you were being disloyal to James. 

You would have to keep reminding yourself there is nothing more to be disloyal to. 

“ You’re too kind, your Highness. I am not sure it is worth catching an illness over this weather for a dance,” you responded, trying to keep your voice gentle and light. You didn’t want any negative emotions to take charge just yet. They could do so once you were in the privacy of your bedchambers. 

“ For me it is. You are worth it, Miss Y/n,” the prince had never confessed his love to you, but with this sentence, it was clear his feelings toward you were much stronger than you had previously believed. Many proposals were given on attraction alone—to have a proposal based on love was the rarest of blessings. 

You stilled in your seat, his words making your heart skip a beat. From the bottom of your heart it was clear to you, you were not in love with this man. Nonetheless, you thought, maybe in the future you would. Maybe if you tried hard enough your heart could move on even if your soul refused to. 

“ Oh! Prince Loki, your highness, what a pleasure to see you here with my niece. . .” your aunt arrived just in time, saving you from having to respond. Your mind wandered off, your aunt’s voice and the prince’s getting lost in the background as they spoke to one another. 

You draped the blanket over your head to cover the stream of tears that refused to stop flowing. If you pretended to be asleep than you could avoid all of your aunt’s pestering questions on where you had snuck off to while the prince was waiting for you. 

No, you did not love Prince Loki.

Yes, you were in love with James Barnes the Duke of Brooklyn.

However, for the sake of a love lost along with fulfilling your duty, you would have to learn how to love another. 

Rake:  A rake is a 19th-century term for a womanizer or a man who flaunts their exploits with women and avoids any real romantic attachments.

[abarbaricyalp]

Written a week late for the @sambuckylibrary Anniversary Event!

Sorry about any typos in advance

Sam Wilson, God bless his nearly perfect soul, didn't have the self-serving skills that the good God gave a gnat. From across the diner, Annalise watched her best friend's son ignore every single sign that his handsome, quiet friend was putting down across their quickly emptying breakfast plates. Her own breakfast was cooling below her, but she had already forgotten about her blueberry oatmeal (cinnamon on top).

To begin with, Sam had invited her to eat with them, despite the fact that were clearly new flowers sitting on the table as well. She knew Bucky Barnes had already made friends with the local florist and she knew he had a weekly order of Sam's favorites set up. (Sam had dropped his affinity for carnations since high school, but still liked yellow flowers and baby's breath). Bucky had also been sitting with his hand on the table, palm up towards Sam, but Sam hadn't taken it yet, hadn't seemed to notice, except to occasionally move some silverware closer to him. Then there was the matter of Bucky's feet, which Annalise could see clearly under the booth as he keep putting his ankle to Sam's, only for Sam to apologize and move his feet back.

Sam Wilson had all the easy charm of his father, but didn't seem to have inherited Paul's keen sense of when the attention was on him. Paul had been a flirt and a half back in the day. He clocked Darlene's interest before Darlene even admitted it to herself (or Annalise, for that matter). Oh, how he had worked day and night to woo her. And then he spent the rest of his life doing the same thing.

Sam was staring down an oncoming train of attention and devotion and he didn't even hear the whistle.

"Dom," she said softly when the waitress walked back by her table. She was across from Sam's booth anyway, but she was pretty certain that even if she was right next to them, neither young man would hear her, too focused on each other. "Could you send a slice of chocolate cheesecake over to them?" she asked. "Keep it between us."

Dom looked back at Sam and Bucky as well, humming in agreement. "Ma'am, consider that fine idea on the house," she laughed. "Might forget a spoon too."

"Oh, now you're speaking my language, young lady," Annalise laughed. "Isn't it great when a plan comes together?"

Dom squeezed her shoulder with an exuberant grin before she disappeared into the kitchen again.

She wasn't the only exuberant one. The boys were bright and cheery as well. It was nice to see after a couple of weeks of quiet from them. Times when one or the other of them was pulled away for their superhero business were always rough. Times when they were both gone were downright untenable. The recuperation needed for the superheroes also never sped things along.

But they seemed to be more at ease, finally back home, as they swiped bacon and toast from each other's plates and cried foul at the same time.

Sam Wilson deserved the world and every happiness. Even as a young boy, clambering over the pulpit to set up his daddy's readings before church, but getting distracted by the crickets that needed a helping hand outside, he had a heart of gold and a moral compass that would go toe-to-toe with most adults in the community. Annalise could remember all of his accolades from high school so well. The sports trophies, the academic achievements, the service awards. She didn't know how he found the time in the day for everything he did, and then helping his parents with the boat and the food boxes as well. All the Wilson kids were like that, but Gideon had gone off without a forwarding address and Sarah had learned to go for what she wanted, created a fairytale love story in front of everyone. Sam had joined the Air Force and spent the rest of the story sacrificing. It wasn't until he came home for Cassius Sr's funeral that they even heard about the accident in Bakmala. It took years after that and a slip up from Sarah for them to learn just how deep the relationship between Sam and his Air Force partner actually was. He just never spoke about it, even to his longest supports in the community. Just focused his attention on Sarah while he could before going off to save the world again.

Too much pain had visited the Wilson household in waves that just never stopped coming. First Gideon leaving, then Paul and then Darlene, then Cassius Sr. and then Sam's partner. Or near enough that order. Plenty of sunshine too, though. Sarah's boys were stunning fruit off of the healthiest of trees. It was hard not to see Sam when Cass was running around town, feeding strays, or when AJ read at church.

But Annalise had been waiting for Sam to bring someone home, make something just for himself. Being Captain America was hardly helping matters. If the young man had ever run out of excuses for his lacking love life before, he had a fresh host of them now.

If you can have lunch with me once a week, you can find yourself a nice man too, she'd said to him a while ago.

It seemed like he had found himself a nice man, she had to admit. No matter how goofy a name like Bucky was, there was no denying he was a good man. (Sure, she'd heard the youngsters talking about The Winter Soldier, but she'd never met the Winter Soldier, thank you very much. Just Bucky Barnes) He was exactly the kind of man for Sam. Not afraid to get his hands dirty, strong and supportive but soft too, on the inside. He was clearly so far gone on Sam that his eyes practically radiated hearts at all times. And, oh boy, could he keep Sam on his toes. They were delightful together in a way that made her ache for her own long-gone love.

And Sam was oblivious to it all. It wasn't for lack of interest. During their lunch dates, the conversation could center entirely around Bucky some days. No matter what else Annalise brought up, Sam would find some way to circle it back around to whatever heroic, or idiotic, thing the other young man had done recently. (Not so young, she supposed. Bucky corrected her every time she said it) If Sam wasn't as far gone on Bucky as the reverse, it was a near, and growing, thing.

So she watched them flirt and banter and pretend like their fingers weren't touching on the table as Bucky mooned over Sam and Sam couldn't look away from Bucky.

Dom came back just as Sam was eating the last of Bucky's pancake. It took a moment for them to look away from each other and to clock the cake she was setting between them.

"Oh, we didn't order this," Bucky corrected sweetly.

"Or that," Sam added as Dom produced two glasses of mimosas as well. His eyes instantly darted over to Annalise.

"Don't worry," Dom assured. "It's on the house. Just a little early-bird-regular special." She smiled brightly at them--there'd been a time Annalise would have loved to see Dom settle down with Sam and they'd have made a lovely couple too--and then turned to leave.

It was Bucky who reached for the spoon first. Then Sam, who came up a spoon short.

"Oh, wait--" he started to call, but Dom didn't look back. Sam shot another glance towards Annalise, who was doing nothing but minding her own business, thank you.

"Well, this is some of the best cake in the state," Bucky pointed out smoothly. He offered the first bite to Sam. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that."

Sam put his fingers over Bucky's hand on the spoon. He maintained eye contact for just a second before he had to look away as he took the proffered cheesecake.

Bucky grinned cheerily at him before taking at least twice as big a scoop for himself, which led to a familiar scene of them squabbling and trying to strong arm each other into relenting.

"I'll give you the rest!" Bucky insisted, trying to hold the spoon away from Sam's reaching hands.

"The middle is the best part of the slice!" Sam argued, halfway climbing across their booth table. He put a hand on Bucky's shoulder to hold himself upright and had almost reached the spoon when he hip-checked the glass of sweet tea between them. Annalise had lost track of whether it was his or Bucky's. They both had a sweet tooth to end all sweet teeth.

Bucky took the opportunity of Sam reaching back to catch the glass to shove the spoon in his mouth. Sam squawked out a sound that Annalise was sure Captain America shouldn't make and then actually reached over like he was about to pry into Bucky's mouth.

Bucky quickly smacked a hand over his lips as he bent over laughing. "Stop it. I'm gonna spit it on you if you don't stop," he warned, trying to fend Sam off with his other hand. "Don't make me laugh."

"You didn't even taste that!" Sam accused. "That was a waste of the perfect bite!"

"I did taste it," Bucky promised. "It was so good. You missed out."

Annalise was starting to agree with AJ. Sam and Bucky were gross together, in the most endearing way. She hadn't seen Sam goof around like this since junior high. It felt like a little bit of sunshine had been restored to the world.

Bucky chopped off a bite of the crust and offered it to Sam as reconciliation. Judging by the way Sam was still pouting, it was only partially working. Sam took the spoon and they settled down as they finished the cheesecake and their mimosas.

Sam had mentioned that Bucky couldn't get drunk, on account of his serum whatnot, but Annalise wasn't sure she bought it. Every time she saw him drinking, he still seemed to get loose limbed and smiley. Then again, she only ever saw him drink around Sam, so perhaps she was giving credit where it wasn't due. She watched him practically melt into the booth seat, hooking his ankle on Sam's and finally being allowed to stay there as they chatted about their plans for the day as orange juice and champagne slowly fizzled away. They were back to working on the house they'd bought. Technically there had been a housewarming party a couple of weeks ago, but she'd seen the both of them in and out of the hardware store often enough since to know the work was not done. She'd bring over some pie for them. Bucky liked cherry and Sam liked peach, both of which she had in her kitchen.

Eventually, she turned her attention to her thoroughly cold oatmeal. She had almost finished it when the boys started shifting around, bickering about the bill. Bucky darted away to pay for it, even though he'd just been complaining about having to use the restroom. Sam came over to her table, catching her eye as he stood. By the time he sat across from her at the two-seater, she still hadn't looked back up.

"Surely you can't still want to have breakfast with me," she teased him finally when he didn't offer a new greeting.

"You're really just gonna set me up like that, huh?" he asked. The gap in his teeth always gave away his grins, just like Paul's had. He really did make her chest ache sometimes. "Just 'cause Bucky won't blame you doesn't keep you out of my sights."

Annalise scoffed softly and shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Samuel Thomas. Mind your manners."

Sam held up his hands placatingly. "Was there any reason cake appeared between us then?"

Annalise shrugged and pretended to read something on her phone. Usually she read the news while she had her breakfast, but she hadn't even opened her subscription because Sam and Bucky were more interesting. "I suppose there was extra. It can only sit out so long, you know."

Sam put his chin on his criss-crossed fingers, elbows on the table, which she swatted at but was ignored for. She continued to pretend to read a text message until she sighed.

"I just think you deserve something nice. You never take anything for yourself," she admonished lightly. "And I'm not talking about cake, young man."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise, but not at her words, she didn't think. Just at the admission. "Bucky is not nice," he said. "He's a pain and a lot of work."

Annalise hummed with a smile, thought of her loves. "All the best things are, aren't they?"

And Sam smiled. Really smiled. The sun came out. Birds sang. He really was her favorite Wilson child. "Yeah, sometimes they are," he agreed.

"Ready to go?" Bucky asked, appearing like he'd been summoned by that smile. He had his hand on the back of Sam's shoulder, inching towards his neck. "Hi again, Mrs. Corbett," he said to Annalise warmly.

"Yeah, mind pulling the truck around?" Sam asked.

Bucky glanced at Annalise, then back to Sam. "Sure," he agreed. "I'll give you two a little while longer to gossip."

Sam had a scar below his left eye that hadn't been there when he'd left for the Air Force. Shrapnel, she'd heard from someone, but she wasn't sure how true that was. Sam never talked about it and it'd be rude to ask. The first time she'd seen it, it had made her heart stop to think about something so violent coming so close to Sam's face, his eyes. By then, it had been a pale thin, still a little tender and thin, but healed. By now, it was barely noticeable, unless the sun was shining in the window just right to make it shine a little. Unless she was watching it as Bucky's lips came down on it, even though Sam's left side was across from where Bucky was standing.

Sam's eyes were still closed, long eyelashes fluttering, as Bucky stood up again. "Don't leave me idling for too long," he warned as he squeezed Sam's shoulder and turned for the door.

She watched Bucky leave, a Levi's ad come to life, and then looked to Sam who had come back to the world of mere mortals.

"Now, Samuel Thomas Wilson," she started, pointing a spoon at him.

Sam laughed merrily, slapping a hand across his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I didn't set you up anything! You set me up!" she accused. "Why haven't you told me?"

Sam was still laughing, shaking his head as he clutched onto his ribs. "I don't know, Miss Lise. I guess...I just liked having it for myself for a while. I was gonna tell you first," he said with a hand over his chest. He settled back in his seat and watched her with a slight apprehension.

Annalise watched him back. "I like Bucky," she said. "I don't like his name, but I like him. You did good there."

"I know you like him," Sam assured. "You just tried to set me up with him."

"Well, the last time I tried to set you up, you just never showed up," she said with a sniff.

"It was a dinner with you!" Sam defended. "I didn't know you were going to ditch me with a stranger."

"She wasn't a stranger. She was only three years younger than you."

"I lived in DC at the time," he added.

Annalise shrugged. "You skipped. Did you know Bucky then?"

Sam laughed softly and shook his head. "No, not then," he said. "Not yet. Besides, it took us a while to get there, even once I did know him."

Annalise knew there was a whole novel worth of story behind Sam and Bucky. She read the news about Sam, and Bucky had been mentioned in a few of them, but she hadn't been paying attention to him at the time, nor did she care to go back and reread anything.

She reached out for Sam's hand and squeezed his fingers. "I'm glad you're happy, Sam," she said softly. "It's what you've deserved for a long time."

Sam put his other hand over hers to squeeze back. "Do you think they'd like him?" he asked softly.

Annalise looked out the front windows, where Bucky was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of the truck Sam had had since high school, singing along to some song she couldn't hear. She squeezed Sam's hand tighter.

"I do, Sammy," she said with a smile. "I really do. They'd be so proud of you. All of you. Always."

Sam kissed her hand before standing up. "Thank you, Miss Lise."

"We love you, Sam," she said, standing to hug him. She kissed his temple fiercely. "Good job on this one."

He smiled again and then left to get into the truck. He paused outside the driver's side to kiss Bucky through the open window.

Annalise smiled too. "Dom," she called, sitting again, "could I get some cheesecake over here. I earned it."

[yandere-chocolate]

A fictional book or art like yandere character in love with its real gn creator/writer or artist

(Yeah! By the way, sorry for doing requests late, I've been very busy.)

Yandere Art/Statue x Artist Reader ~(Romantic)~

Summary: You create a statue of a weeping angel for a client of yours. Unfortunately for you & your client, the statue would much rather not leave your side. (Inspired by Doctor Who. inspired.)

TW/CW: Stalking, horror, fear, implied death(not of a main character though).

You had finally finished the statue. After so much hard work, it was done. You had to say, you were rather proud of it, like you are with all of your newly done work. You added quite a bit more detail to the toga & hands than you typically do, simply because most of the commissions you get tend to be animals, so you rarely get to do humans, or angels in this case. You let out proud sigh & went inside for a drink & to relax a bit.

--------------The statue's point of view------------------------

I was finally able to remove my hands from my eyes come nightfall. I touched my new face & relished in the fact that my creator finally decided to give me hands. I got up & looked around, slowly spreading by wings & closing them again. I couldn’t believe my body was finally sculpted. 

I smiled a little & looked towards to window with the bluish light shining through it. My lovely creator was watching something, it looks like creatures like my creator, but...not. They are hideous & unrealistic, with horrid long arms & sausage-like fingers. Their mouths are also far too big & their teeth are pure white & perfect rectangles. Almost every single part of their body was surrounded by black lines. A horrific imitation of life; I think.

But my creator adores these strange creatures shown on the large black box, so I suppose they aren’t too bad. I continue to dreamily watch my lovely creator, admiring their features. Were they created like me? Sculpted by another creature? I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem like it. Even so, I personally thought they were beautiful. Though, they were faced away from me right now, my eyes were sculpted very early on. I saw their face & fell in love almost instantly. Ever since then, I always watched them after dark & have never gotten caught. I always return to the same position come dawn.

They eventually went to lay down on a bed & close their eyes. They always did this at night & I’m not quite sure why. But all the same, I watched over them until dawn.

--------------------------------The next morning-------------------

I returned to my original position in the morning. Later in the day, I heard my beloved creator & someone else talking. I decided not to listen in too much, but I suppose I should have, because the other person picked me up, almost dropped me, & put me in the back of their machine. ‘care?’ ‘cer?’ ‘cear?’ ‘car’ I don’t remember what the black box called it, but it was definitely one of those two! 

I despised their hands being on me. My creator should be the only one to touch me. Who did this person think they were? Next thing I knew, the machine began moving. I couldn’t see much, but I could tell that human that put me here was taking me away from my creator. & Needless to say, I was...upset. 

Very upset.

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

It was dark now, which means I can finally move. I removed my hands from my eyes & found myself in an admittedly gorgeous garden. It had tulips, carnations, orchids, lilies, & it even had shrubbery. The fireflies that danced around me made me feel like I was in a fairytale. & Yet, it still felt empty. I could tell it was beautiful & tranquil, but without my creator with me, I struggled to feel amazed & calm.

I got up, stretched my wings, & went on my way to try & find my beloved creator. As I tried to see if I could find a clue to where my creator was. That’s when I found the human that dragged me here. They were doing the same thing my creator did at night, laying in a bed with their eyes closed. Now I must admit, I’m not typically violent, but this creature took me away from my god—my creator!

I knew if this was anything like my creator’s rest, they wouldn’t get up until the morning. & So, with that in mind, I saw red. Luckily, though it got a bit messy, I found a small black box with the familiar glowing blueish light. There, after being nearly blinded by the white light, I found out where my creator was. It was far, but the small black rectangular box told me where to go & I would do anything for my creator.

However, as I began to walk, I had a thought; why not bring my creator here? It was such a big, lovely house & the human would no longer be using it. Oh, my creator would love this place! I’m sure I can easily carry them here within the night!

So, I began to walk to where my creator was, excited to show them the lovely house I have found for them.

-----------------------------Back to third person--------------------------

You woke up in a beautiful garden which you were sure you didn’t fall asleep in. After a few seconds, you realized an angel statue that looked eerily like the one you finished sculpting two days ago had her hands on your shoulders & her head resting right beside your neck. She was smiling with her eyes closed & her body was very close to yours, but the main thing you noticed was the dried red liquid all over her hands & what you could see of her toga, along with the metallic smell of blood. You immediately struggled out of her grip & once you got a full view of the angel, you realized she looked exactly like the angel you sculpted. exactly.

& She was covered in blood.

You looked around the garden, but as you attempted to wonder off, something cold, hard, & grainy grabbed your wrist. You turned around to see the angel but now much closer to you, grabbing your wrist. It wasn’t a new statue; the old statue was completely gone. You tried to break free of her hold, but almost as soon as you closed your eyes to focus on breaking free, you felt your wrist being free, but now two arms were wrapped around your body, holding you close to her body. 

You soon heard a faint whisper, but you refused to believe it was the angel holding you. You refused to believe any of this was anything but a dream. But regardless, you heard her say:

“I’m so happy you’re back...”

[bluecoolr]

For Life or Until Fault

Alt Timeline 2.0 - Darrell x Odile Part 7

Warnings: Very wordy. I get carried away with descriptions and imagery so 😅

Odile belongs to @solmints-messyocdiary

Darrell is mine ♥︎

Once again tagging my beloved @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better who enjoys this story a lot, I think

Odile carefully stepped over the threshold. That morning marked the first time she had entered the house by the front door. She felt a smile in her heart. No more was she a thief in the night. She was a wanted guest, and she kept cupping her hand to her cheek where a childish blush was burning.

Darrell led her by the hand into the drawing room. Isabelle stood up from her pile of blankets and began to jump around in a frenzy. Her two favorite people had come home after all.

A terra cotta vase stood on the writing desk, holding a boquet of wilted pink carnations. Her carnations. He'd kept them all this time.

She watched him fondly as he bustled about, urging her to sit on the furs and cushions in front of the crackling fire.

"Do you want to have it… like that or do you want me to cook it for you?" he asked, meaning the meat.

Odile managed a weak whimper. She didn't want to be a bother, and he had been so kind already. She took a bite from the steak to show him it was fine. She didn't mind.

"I'll just cook this one, too, just so you'll have options." He threw a sliver of butter on the skillet, and it began to hiss and sizzle. "If you don't like it, that's OK."

The cold, red rag of meat was soon forgotten in Odile's hand, as the smell of good, cooked food filled the room. Darrell looked pleased.

"Here." He placed a tin cup in Odile's hands. "It'll warm you up."

She eyed the mysterious dark drink, swilled it around and took a sip. Oh. She touched her lip with the tip of her finger. Chocolate!

She felt ashamed, and a sour pit in her stomach chased away the sweetness on her tongue. Did she deserve chocolate? Or the jacket thrown on her shoulders? The fragrant, succulent steak that Darrell was setting on a plate for her?

And what of him?

Darrell? (The name tasted so sweet. Sweeter than all the chocolate in the world.) Did she deserve him - his kindness - after she had been so deceitful - coming and going as she pleased?

And what if it was all a trick? Suppose he didn't really mean to keep his word? What if he was fixing her last meal.

She stared at the food and the chocolate as though she had been petrified.

She ought to grab the steak knife and fight her way out. Cut him. Oh, but to cut such beauty would be a sin even she couldn't stand.

He was looking sad again. Oh, dear. However could she resist those eyes? Eyes that begged. Eyes that chose to see only the good. Silly man. This is not Eden, and I have glutted on worse things than God's fruit. Eve hath no shame as I do.

But she drank from the cup and she tasted the meat, having not the heart to see him sad for her sake.

He left her alone while she ate. When she'd finished, he noticed her picking on the blood that had dried on her arms. "You can wash it off in the bathroom," he told her, rising from his seat. "Here."

Once he had led her there, she was unwilling to step out of his jacket - like the earth withstanding the change of the season. She wanted to live in it, if she could. It was the closest thing to being in his arms. This strange, soft man, so impossibly like a fairytale prince.

The bath had been too inviting, and Odile shuffled back into the drawing room bundled up in his towel.

"Oh, one second." Darrell rummaged through his chest of drawers and pulled out a baggy gray t-shirt. "Sorry. This is the smallest I have."

The fabric was cottony soft, worn thin from use. A favorite shirt. And he wanted her to have it.

Odile sat on his bed, her head heavy from her wet hair. Noticing her bare feet, Darrell knelt and gently took them in his hands. "You're cold." and with that, he pulled a pair of wooly socks up over her calf, securing them with a cord of ribbon to keep them from falling.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

He briefly looked up from his handiwork. "Why shouldn't I be?" he said, rising.

Odile's breath hitched and she stopped him from going, grasping him by the cuffs of his sweater. "Don't leave," she pleaded, her heart betraying her again.

"I have to go to work, but I'll be back after sundown," Darrell reassured her. Her olive eyes searched him for a promise, her lower lip trembled.

Darrell pulled her into a comforting embrace. She looked up at him, catching the light off his eyes, wanting to drink him in. He raked her damp hair away from her face, buried his face in her shoulder, whispered, "I'll be back. I'll let Isabelle keep you company. Please, wait for me, sweet one. Please, stay with me this once."

He had to pull away eventually, and when he did there were strands of black hair caught in Odile's fingers. And she sat admiring them, already beginning her vigil for his return.

~

The morning was gray, as it usually was. Tea and breakfast grew cold too soon, spoiling Ilya’s mood. His various rifles were laid out on the scrubbed deal table before him. A near-empty bottle of gun cleaner stood beside his tepid tea. Part of his rag was dipped in his bowl of cemented gruel as he rubbed the stinking cleaner on the gun.

The door swung open and Darrell walked in. He unscrewed the top off his flask and helped himself to the pitcher on the sideboard. “Good morning,” he greeted.

Ilya’s answer was an ill-tempered cigarette puff. The big oaf. He looked chipper.

Ilya had half a mind to give him a faulty gun. Have him kill himself. “You find anything yet?” he asked.

“Nope."

Ilya narrowed his eyes. "Nothing, huh? Not a single disturbed grave since you got here?" he scoffed. "Funny."

"Ideally this would be good news. Unless you're looking for something in particular."

"What would I be looking for exactly?"

Darrell shrugged, his lip curled in disgust. "You tell me. I only work here."

Ilya sized him up. How much did he know exactly?

Before he could say anything more, Darrell went out the door. Ilya snapped the hinge of his rifle in place. What exactly was he doing? The little vandal couldn't just up and vanish. She would have to turn up some time. If Darrell had seen something, he would have said something. That was part of the job.

Ilya didn't trust the little sneak, didn't like the hollowness of his unflinching gaze. It was in his - no, the town's - best interest to keep an eye on this one.

~

Night had long since spread her ink-black skirts when Darrell returned. A frigid drizzle, punctuated by flashes of lightning, warned of more inclement weather. The manor house, with its crumbling walls and rotting tile, was no place to call home, but it had a roof and a hearth. And what's more, it had -

Odile was hurrying to fasten the window latches as the rain came pouring in buckets. She practically flew into his arms as he stepped through the door.

"Oh, hurry! Take these off… O-or you'll get sick."

She pinched the wet fabric of his clothes, blushing hard at the implication of her words.

Darrell did as she asked, leaving on his baggy cableknit sweater for decency. She was still wearing his shirt. The fluffy socks were still tied with the scrap ribbons. But he couldn't help but notice something different. "Did you… clean the house?"

Odile nodded, her soft features turning beautiful with muted pride. "I-I didn't have much to do. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no! I owe you. I'm really sorry about the mess. You must be tired."

Even Isabelle's coat look brushed, he noticed.

Outside, the rain crashed down to the earth. "This is good weather for soup," he remarked.

Odile gave him another vigorous nod. So, Darrell went about preparing dinner, which they took together cross-legged among the rugs and floofs. Between mouthfuls, he asked her how her day went - how she'd passed the time. "We can't have you cleaning all the time." Darrell chuckled. "Mm! Here."

He set his bowl down and went to retrieve his small collection of dog-eared books. Odile accepted them like wounded birds.

Odile went to ladle steaming soup into her and Darrell's bowl, making sure he got more mushrooms than she did. He sat back down bearing his Walkman, and he spent a good part of the evening teaching her how to use it.

When it was time to turn in, Darrell urged Odile to sleep in his bed.

Odile looked mortified at the idea. "B-but where will you sleep?"

He assured her he'd be fine by the fire. There were enough cushions to keep him comfortable, and Isabelle seemed to welcome the idea. She curled up right by his side, looking like a pile of fur.

They said their goodnights and waited for sleep. For a while, there was no other sound save for the steady drumroll of the storm. Then, just before midnight - a soft step on the bloating floor. A rustle among the blankets and floofs scattered by the fire. Finally, a content sigh as Odile snuggled up beside her new Prince Charming, who held her close as the night passed on, lifting her veil to make way for day.

~

"Is this a dream?"

He smiled. "It might just be."

Odile felt Darrell's lips on the top of her head.

"Listen," he told her.

It was as silent as the day God had first made the earth, as though the storm had washed everything anew. They could see nothing from the window but a hazy whiteness. It was as if nothing else existed.

"If it is," said Odile decisively, "then I don't want to wake up." She burrowed deeper into his arms, wanting nothing more than to slip into the cracks between his heart and lungs, to press herself among his ribs. To be with him. To be his.

"We can dream awhile," he assured her.

But there comes an hour that wrests those who yearn for each other apart, heralded by blue skies and prodding sunlight.

Darrell left with a promise to return, and Odile took it without suspicion. She watched him say goodbye at the door and give a stern order to Isabelle to be a good guard dog. As the door closed, Odile felt a giddy fluttering in her stomach. A fluttering that ended in a happy little giggle, and Odile lay back on the furs to embrace Darrell's pillow - covering it in kisses.

[shmowder]

I was looking at Sargent's art again and Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose reminded me of another painting I like a lot, The Lanterns by Charles Courtney Curran.

So I said I wanted to live in a John Singer Sargent painting. I also want to live inside the worlds you create with your writing. <3

🐿️ anon

Omfg yeah! you're right they are reminiscent of each other, it's like the two kids ik the painting grew up in the second one. How vivid the world seemed as a child, how dimmer and more dull it gets as you grow up.

My favourite Charles Courtney Curran piece is this one, "Paris at night" - 1889.

The thing about John Singer Sargent is that he was THE portrait painter of his generation, creme de la creme and all. Over 900 works! at least half are portraits. After a while you start wondering if he enjoyed painting portraits this much or if he was simply too in-demand to he able to refuse, so very little time was left for him to actually paint different things or try out other styles.

God, you don't know how much those words mean to me. <3, ever since my first ever writing blog–the one even before my bg3 one–I admired John Singer Sargent paintings and used them as a header. I truly aspired to provide the same fantasy fairytale vibes, the vibrancy of life. I wasn't aiming for realisim but romanticised Idealism.

Thank you so much for being so sweet and suggesting a painting <333

[saexy]

‎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ¸: ᭰͒̑͡ 𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓣𝓸𝓻𝓲 . . . @niitoshi

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 !

The little droplets of water trickle against the glass, you move your finger against its before letting it touch the table. You watch , taking a sigh of relief, in the solitude of your company. It was short interrupted by the growing eyes on you. The white gown, the veil were definitely a give away to answer it. 

—

Getting cold feet is totally normal!! You reassure yourself in a weak moment of second thoughts. The engagement diamond sat tight around your finger as you fiddled with a bouquet of carnations. You met Kagami 5 years back. And even though he particularly didn't strike much of your interest, it was love at first sight for him. He fell first, and felt harder. ANd you, you grew to his presence. He cared about you, loved you with all your ins and outs. He stayed, and the idea of him around became a habit. A habit. A habit, the word irked you strangely. There was never a doubt that you loved being around him. He knew you in and out, things you liked and disliked. Your friends loved him. He was perfect, a page from every girl’s fairytale- The air was poised, Yes it must be, today out of all the days was not the one to question. Teh ceremony was starting in an hour. Guests had started lining up. You mentally slapped yourself before you spiraled into this stupidity. 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 !

The muffled voice behind the door helped knock you off your thoughts. “Hey, it's oli” you recognized your best man’s voice. For a change you had both a maid of honor and a best man today. “Its open” you replied, too lazy to move from the comfort of your chair. The dress added. Oliver stood struck in teh door frame. “You. Look. Gorgeous. Marry me instead” His last comment made you chuckle. You rolled your eyes at him, “at this point i might as well” you mumbled. 

“What did you say?” Oliver raised hsi eyebrow at teh answer. 

“Nothing”

“You guys fought,didnt you, told you he was a los-” 

“Oliver” You snap at him. It was unlike you to get so worked up over something so small. Oliver’s mouth fell agape, not hurt, but concerned now. “Im sorry I didn't mean to-” you start off but he cut you off. 

“Talk to me” he knelt half way to look at you, worrisome.

“Do you think we rushed into this marriage?” You ask, “And answer me honestly?” 

Oliver was ready to shoot down any doubts you had coming but even this left him confused. 

“You do want to call off teh wedding, i don't think loverboy would mind.” Oliver broke teh growing silence. “I admit, i d not particularly get along w him, he is brick wall for a man, but he loves you… he will understand and you can marry him tomorrow” 

“What if i don't wanna get married… to him… ever” Even you didn't realize where all this came from, but maybe you knew deep down.

“Congratulatulations” That voice. You were only half way done though your make, when the man interrupted. Him. His audacity to show up today out of all days, boiled your blood. Everyone exited shortly to give you two privacy. “never thought of you as being into lilies” he blurted in all honesty. 

“I like em better” You lied. Taiga loved lilies.”Why-”

“Before you say anything, your mum invited” he said, putting down the bouquet of red carnations. You stand mute, trying to pick words, the rite words, until you are picking just any word. Anything you say out loud. “You had the choice to not show up” you bitterly bit your tongue back.  

“Hmm.. I wasn't staying for the ceremony anyway.'' Silence took over again. He clicked his tongue, and without any further try-hard conversation, walked out. Again. You wished you screamed, cried, slapped him for always leaving you to pick up the pieces. But you didn't. You didn't feel the rage anymore. 

For someone who always had something up his pocket, you were throwing Oliver off hsi game. “Oh- oh- development..” he stares at you blankly, “Do you want this?” he just asks one last question.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ♥︎

You werent gonna let the events of earlier dictate the way you lived, but at the same time, the diamond felt heavy as the clock ticked. It was unfair to taiga, this might hurt you both, but to live the rest of your life as a lie, would kill you. This was all the courage you needed. 

“Yes, I mean, No i don't want this wedding… because, i-I love carnations”  

“Okay? You want to cancel this wedding because they didn't get the flowers rite? Unacceptable but-”

“I have to go, I love you, take care of this for me” You hastily pull out the ring from you finger before oliver can he even comprehend what was going on, You pu ton your shoes, “I’ll call you later” 

“Tori, whe- What is going on, we can fix teh flower-” Oliver tries to put two and two together, but watching you running around the room grabbing you things, he hardly can circle his brain around anything that was following. 

YOu hug him tightly., “I owe this to you, Thankyou oli. I Love you  and i Love carnations” Marriages turn people silly he had heard, but you were not married yet- So this was rather fearfully crazy. “Just handle everything here” YOu peck his cheek and take the leave. 

Your veil billows behind, smiling preciously. You were not tied by teh promises or regret of yesterday anymore—you ran bec you were doing something for yourself.

–

“Miss, would you like another?” You smiled widely, “yes, gladly” the people’s gaze fell with time. Until someone takes a seat next to you. “Some day?” He cocks his head to meet your eyes. 

“You wont believe the day i’m having”

“Sound liek I have all the time for a story” 

A giggle escapes your lips at his cheekiness, You take a deep breath, smiling eagerly to taht familiar face.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐘 !

[krscblw]

do you have any indie fragrances you recommend for someone interested in a gentle floral scent, or just any of your favorite brands in general?

hello!! my favorite indie perfume brands are possets perfume, fantôme, and alkemia perfumes. all of them are definitely on the niche side of things, but they have some more classic perfume-y scents too. (and all of them do custom sample sets so you can try a bunch before committing!)

i don’t have that many florals in my collection (i’m usually more of a resin/incense guy), but i have a few that i really like that might be similar to what you’re looking for!

olwyn -  fantôme

"magnolias, white lilies, night-blooming jasmine, and gardenias over rich, buttery vanilla, myrrh, benzoin, and a hint of orange blossom."

it’s not the most gentle, but it is really beautiful. it’s heavy on the magnolia and reminds me of like,, a summer evening in a garden full of white flowers. i love it

isabella - possets

"notes of rose are combined with a light resin, white tea leaf and a rare honey/milky-musk."

this one smells like roses and tea with milk and honey. it’s very gentle and pretty

silver roses - possets

rose accord and silver base.

i love this one. it’s very powdery and the rose is a little bit sharp, but still very soft. it smells sort of fairytale princess-y to me. possets has a whole line of ‘silver’ scents (i have silver roses, silver narcissus, and silver carnations), and all of the ones i've tried are beautiful

silver narcissus - possets

narcissus and silver base.

not super gentle, but i like it a lot. if you like how daffodils smell, this one is great, it smells exactly like them. it smells a little greener than most florals 

alkemia and possets both have a lot that i haven’t tried, including a lot of florals. i’ve also heard really good things about black phoenix alchemy lab, and their catalog is huge. (i’m hoping to try some of their scents soon, but i haven’t had the chance yet so unfortunately i can’t vouch for anything in particular)  

i hope this is helpful!! thank you for asking me, i love talking about this stuff

[celestias-selfships]

Promo

The old Anastasia can’t come to the phone right now.

Why?

Oh, cause she’s dead!

Hi, I'm Anastasia, I'm 19, and I love selfshipping. I left the community and kept this blog for a while because I was not mentally ok and I was healing. I wanna be here and make friends here. I don't care about politics. I don't care what views you hold, I just wanna make friends. I'm a huge Swiftie. I'm down to share F/Os, if you don't want to and you don't want me to interact, let me know. If you have rules for people who have the same f/os, let me know and I'll follow them and tag.

turbulent INTJ, Hufflepuff (not supporting JKR, just liking the vibes of the hufflepuff common room and the double entendre), Reputation stan, harbinger of chaos, princess

Favorite artists: The Doors, Taylor Swift, Palaye Royale, Elle Lexxa, Siouxie and the Banshees, The Cure, Nine Inch Nails

Self insert: Celestia, an ex disney actress turned popstar.

tag: #I'll be the actress staring in your bad dreams

Celestia's wiki

F/O list with tags (in case we share, you can filter those tags if you want) and statuses (if no status, assume we're still dating)

Geralt of Rivia (not Liam Hemsworth, married, The Witcher) #linked by destiny

Alucard (Hellsing) #Hells Bells

Jareth (Labyrinth) #dance on fire as it intends

Damon Salvatore (weird on/off again fling, The Vampire Diaries) #maybe we got lost in translation

Enzo St. John (The Vampire Diaries) #with every guitar string scar on my hand

Elijah Mikaelson (The Originals) #never let me go

The Darkling/Alexsander Morova (Shadow and Bone) #Moonlit Drive

Dean Winchester (Supernatural) #november flush and your flannel cure

John Reese (Person Of Interest) #my knight in shining armor

Silco (Arcane) #we got the love in automatic

Viktor (Arcane #Gold Rush

Malcolm Bright #brighten up my life

Leon Scott Kennedy (Resident Evil) #whiskey on ice sunset and vine

Reno Sinclair (Final Fantasy 7) #aint it funny

Ferid Bathory (Seraph of the End) #nocturnal serenade

Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer on Netflix) #Don't blame me

Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead) #the archer

Astarion (Baldur's gate III) #i was enchanted to meet you

Undertaker (Black Butler) #angel of small death and the codeine scene

Sebastian Michaelis (Black Butler) #carnations you had thought were roses

Connor (Detroit Become Human) #Can we always be this close

Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil Village) #a shot in the darkest dark

Killian Jones (Once Upon A Time) #today was a fairytale

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) #is it cool that I said all that

Robert Montague Renfield (Renfield) #a love for the ages

Blade (Honkai Star Rail) #love the void

Patrick Jane (The Mentalist) #crazy = genius

August Ruthven (The Case Study of Vanitas) #red are the arms of luxuriant chairs and you won't know a thing until you get inside

Noe (The Case Study of Vanitas) #good old fashioned lover boy

Vanitas (The Case Study of Vanitas) #mr doctor man

Dwayne (the Lost Boys) #wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark

Jerry (2011 Fright Night) #take the highway to the end of the night

Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact) #like snow on the beach

Tartaglia/Childe (Genshin Impact) #Ocean blue eyes looking in mine Alhaitham (Genshin Impact) #life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

@canongf Hi, I'm the anon who is returning after a bit. thank you for letting me tag you!

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

Introduction to: Salice Halloway.

Full name: Salice Gianna Halloway.

Age: 24 years old.

Birthday: March 5th.

Sexual orientation: Pansexual.

Familiar: Sofos, the Spotted Skunk.

Personality:

Birth chart (big three): Pisces sun, Scorpio moon, Scorpio rising.

MBTI: ENFP-T.

Patron Arcana: The Empress.

Upright: divine femininity, compassion, fertility, sensuality, nurturing

Reversed: insecurity, negligence, smothering, lack of growth.

Minor Arcana: Queen of Cups.

Upright: sensitivity, empathy, unconditional love.

Reversed: concealed or suppressed emotions, self-destructive tolerance

Likes: Natural colors, soft fabrics, fruit juice without pulp, walking barefoot, rainy days, touching her own body, hibiscus flowers because they remind her of her first home, carnations because they remind her of her current one, dancing, celebrating Dysi even though she is miles away from Orasas, kisses on her forehead, swimming in the river, rare meat, walking in the early morning or late at night, springtime, when her skunk nuzzles her in the morning to wake her up, scented candles, gold jewelry, sunsets, candlemaking, sitting in silence with her loved ones, sweet things, the ocean, horseriding bareback, high heels, her cultural food, pomegranate, writing poetry, her husband's arms, seafood, bathing in the moonlight

Dislikes: Itchy fabric textures, heated arguments, having short nails, judgemental people, her hormonal acne, when people pick on someone because they are different, wearing pants for long periods of time, talking about her past, giving bad news, tomatoes, self-important people, when people mistake her kindness for weakness, burnt or crispy food, cold skin, long periods without rain, graveyards,

Abilities: She is a multifaceted woman, knowing three languages fluently (Orasan, Maethel, and Embrish) and two languages proficiently enough for conversation (Prakran and Vesuvian). She is a gifted surgeon and doctor and has a vast knowledge of both holistic and traditional medicines. She isn't a regular practitioner of magic currently but has an extensive repertoire of spells and incantations. Able to create alchemic concoctions, a skill she puts to good use as a doctor. She also has an array of hobbies such as crocheting, candle-making, cooking, reading, writing, working in her garden, and anything else that might pique her interest.

Favourite food: Coconut Shrimp.

Favourite drink: Fruit Juices.

Favourite flower: Hibiscus.

Appearance:

Height: 5’9 or 175 cm.

Weight: 176 lbs or 80 kg.

Hair: Salice has brown, curly tresses that reach her mid-back. She often keeps her voluminous hair in a ribbon or claw clip, loving to try various styles. She has a wide variety of hair care products and natural remedies to keep her hair long and strong. Her curls tend to frizz, so she puts a lot of work into styling it so that it keeps looking nice. She likes to experiment with layering and curtain bangs but has no intentions of ever cutting it short. It frames her face beautifully, and she has a strong emotional attachment to her hair.

Eyes: Salice has big almond-shaped eyes, almost fairytale. They're the color of the forest just after the rains. When in the sunlight they sparkle like emeralds. Her eyes are lively and bright, with long dramatic lashes to compliment them. Salice is very expressive and she will often show emotions through her eyes before she expresses them in any other way.

General description: Salice has a soft lifestyle and a soft body to match. She carries most of her weight in her stomach, hips, and breasts. Her waist is pinched small, giving her a sought-after hourglass figure. She has dainty wrists and ankles, and blemishless knees and elbows. She has strong legs as she walks quite often, or rides her horse for transportation. Her face is heart-shaped, with youthful cheeks and a soft jawline. Her freckles are subtle, but noticeable in the summer. Salice has an upturned button nose and a pair of soft plump lips. One of her favourite features about herself is her two-toned lips and her soft cupid's bow. Salice can grow thick, angular brows and she often changes the shape of them to achieve different looks. Her facial hair grows quite fast so she often spends a lot of time grooming for a plucked and perfect look, which is her preferred style.

Fashion sense: Salice loves sophisticated dress. She owns quite a closet of dresses and skirts, blouses and cardigans. Her daily attire frequently fluctuates from a layered look (complete with a petticoat, overskirt, blouse, corsets, vests, and accessories) to a more casual cottage style, (consisting of milkmaid dresses, low-cut tops, long and short skirts, cardigans, and sundresses). Salice hardly wears pants, but when she does, she opts for fitted trousers that accentuate her small waist and shapely hips. Although very removed from her homeland, Salice still enjoys the cultural clothing from her childhood and has learned with the help of her sister-in-law how to construct and fashion traditional Orasan clothing. She loves to wear these clothes during the month of June to celebrate Dysi with her family and friends. Salice loves matching silk pajamas as well as matching lounge sets made of comfortable leisurely material. Townspeople has described her style to be elegant and put-together.

A brief look into her life:

Occupation: Being her father's medical assistant since she was very young, Salice has extensive medical training and practical knowledge. Before working at the hospital in Maeth, she undergoes another stint of technical training and residency under the head doctor until she is licensed in the city to conduct medical practice and surgery on her own. Will occasionally help out at Draigh's Tavern as a barmaid.

Love interest:

Thomas Matteo Zieragh (Husband).

Family and friends:

Dr. Dabney Bell Halloway, adoptive father.

Rhadika Elsma, sister.

Shuhei Kumagai, long-time family friend and distant relative.

Isabella Zieragh, sister-in-law/friend.

Ophelia Zieragh, sibling in-law/ friend.

Galierie Zieragh, mother in law and colleague.

Mr. Ginard, former colleague of her father.

Anshelinah Circe, friend.

Penelope Bonilla, friend.

Cole, Marcos and Matías, her husband's best friends.

Miscellaneous facts:

TBC

[anbuthalapathy]

Planning Wedding Events in Chennai: Your Guide to a Memorable Celebration

Chennai, with its rich cultural heritage and scenic venues, is an ideal place for hosting memorable wedding events. Known for its vibrant atmosphere, grand temples, and blend of tradition and modernity, Chennai provides a perfect backdrop for celebrating the union of two souls. From traditional South Indian weddings to modern, theme-based celebrations, the city offers a range of options to suit every couple’s vision. Here’s a comprehensive guide to planning unforgettable wedding events in Chennai.

1. Choosing the Perfect Venue

Chennai has no shortage of stunning wedding venues that cater to all kinds of celebrations. If you’re looking for a traditional touch, the city’s temples and heritage halls offer a beautifully authentic setting. Venues like Sri Ramachandra Convention Hall and Kamaraj Arangam are popular for their cultural appeal and classic South Indian decor. For couples who prefer a modern aesthetic, Chennai has luxurious hotels like ITC Grand Chola, Leela Palace, and Taj Coromandel, which offer elegance, sophistication, and world-class facilities.

If you want a more intimate setting, beach resorts on the East Coast Road (ECR) provide a scenic view of the Bay of Bengal and a romantic ambiance. Resorts like Radisson Blu Temple Bay and Ideal Beach Resort are ideal for destination-style weddings, allowing you to celebrate with loved ones in a private, tranquil environment.

2. Traditional vs. Contemporary Themes

Chennai’s wedding events are renowned for their strong adherence to tradition, yet couples today often infuse modern elements to personalize their big day. Traditional South Indian weddings are known for intricate rituals and ceremonial grandeur. Starting with the engagement or “Nischayathartham,” followed by the main wedding ceremony, the rituals are infused with vibrant colors, flower decorations, and cultural music. Adding a South Indian touch to your wedding event will not only honor tradition but also make the experience unique.

If you’re interested in a contemporary or theme-based wedding, Chennai has a number of planners who can help you bring your ideas to life. From bohemian beach weddings to fairytale receptions, the options are endless. Decor elements like fairy lights, floral arches, and statement backdrops are popular, and themes can be customized according to your personal style, making your event one-of-a-kind.

3. Finding the Right Vendors

To make your wedding events in Chennai truly special, choosing reliable vendors is essential. Chennai has some of the best wedding planners, decorators, caterers, and photographers in India. Wedding planning companies like Wedlock Planners and 3Productions are known for their attention to detail and experience with local traditions. Additionally, hiring experienced photographers who know Chennai’s best spots for wedding shoots, like Alwarpet Ancestral House and Santhome Beach, can give you stunning keepsakes from your special day.

Catering is another critical aspect. South Indian cuisine is a must at Chennai weddings, and renowned catering services such as Arusuvai Arasu and Sri Sai Catering can provide delicious spreads with traditional flavors and contemporary options to cater to diverse guest preferences.

4. Tips for a Smooth Event

Plan Early: Chennai’s top venues and vendors are often booked months, if not years, in advance. Begin planning as early as possible, especially if you’re having a peak-season wedding (December to February).

Embrace Tradition: Even if you’re going for a modern vibe, adding traditional elements like a classical Carnatic music performance or a South Indian bridal saree can make your event stand out.

Consider Guest Comfort: Chennai can get quite hot, so provide ample cooling solutions for outdoor weddings. If you’re hosting guests from out of town, arrange comfortable accommodations and transportation.

Conclusion

Organizing wedding events in Chennai combines tradition, elegance, and a touch of modernity. With a wide range of venues, themes, and experienced vendors to choose from, your wedding in Chennai can be a grand affair filled with meaningful rituals and modern celebrations. Whether you envision a traditional Tamil wedding or a stylish beachfront ceremony, Chennai offers everything you need to make your wedding a beautiful, cherished memory.

[xtruss]

Sculpture: Sculptures Created From Secondhand Books – In Pictures

Su Blackwell has always used text in her art, but it was after a trip to Asia that she began creating sculptures from books. “In my last year at college, I went to Thailand and, in a secondhand bookshop, bought a copy of The Quiet American with lines of Thai scrawled in its margins, which added another dimension.” Soon after she returned to the UK her father died and while grieving she found herself picking up the Graham Greene classic and cutting paper moths out of the pages. She then suspended them to form a cloud over the open book. Ever since, she has bought secondhand tomes from which to make sculptures of houses, fairytales, flora and fauna. “My work was once described as if I am ‘weaving with words’,” she says, “and I like that analogy.”

A sculpture of The Bronte Parsonage, 2017 created by artist Su Blackwell. Photograph: Alice Butler, John Reynolds & Su Blackwell

The Elfin Grove, 2018 (From a fairy tale of the same name, and featured in the exhibition Folk Tales, Forests and the Sea at Long & Ryle).

Virginia Woolf’s To The lighthouse, 2018.

Virginia Woolf’s To The lighthouse, 2018.

Dumaurier House, 2017 (From the series Women Writers).

The Book Collector, 2018 (Commissioned for a private collector of Penguin Classics and Puffin Books. The books on the shelves are from his collection).

Aberdeen Central Library, 2018 (A commission for a retired librarian, who worked at Aberdeen Library for over 30 years. Silhouettes of the ghosts that haunt the library can be seen through the library windows).

Paper Birches, 2023 (From a collection of fairy stories and refers to the birch forests of Europe).

Jack And the Beanstalk, 2018 (From the series Fairy Tales).

Roses and Carnations, 2018 (From a historical nature book of the late 19th Century).

[a-dose-of-oranges]

Post 02 - Love is Green

12/11/2022 10:51 pm

(I actually wrote this 09/12/2021 for my Common App essay, but it’s my baby)

I used to be desperate to find a love that encompasses the color red. Red like the rose the love-struck man hopelessly searched for in Guillaume de Lorris’s part of Le Roman de la Rose. The endless pursuit of the rose served as a symbol of the man seeking out the woman he loves. I grew into a mirrored image of this man. The red rose became my favorite flower and I was obsessed with experiencing the romantic aspect of love--the one considered the most sacred of them all. 

From a young age, we are taught one ideal “red rose” image of love. A pair of soulmates, a man and a woman, who complete each other. I was taught that I will only ever need one person for my fulfillment. The premonition officially took root in the second grade, when I claimed to have a crush on a boy I barely even knew. I did not even question if I felt any romantic attraction towards him; it was an impulsive response. Not to my friend telling me she has a boyfriend, but to society telling me I will one day be searching for a man who will serve as my other half. 

As years passed, I learned that love was not always between the handsome prince and the fair maiden. Love ceased to be the story of the red rose I blindly believed it to be. For Oscar Wilde, love was the green carnation. Although not explicitly stated, the flower both represented an appreciation for the arts and served as a subtle hint that he was a man who loved another man. In Chain of Gold by Cassandra Clare, Matthew Fairchild wears the green carnation for similar reasons. Except to better represent his bisexuality, he viewed the flower as a celebration of loving anyone regardless of their gender. The love I desired should never have been limited to a man. I remained unlabelled and decided to love whoever I chose as romance is between people and identity does not matter. 

I remained unsatisfied with the meaning of love even after breaking the barriers of gender. I yearned for the feeling, and yet I never truly felt any romantic attraction towards anyone. My perception shattered then. I realized I was not only a victim of heteronormativity but amatonormativity as well. Surrounded by fairytale romances and K-dramas, I equated finding love to finding happiness. From the moment I confessed in second grade until I comprehended my aromanticism, I believed that getting married to my hypothetical soulmate was expected of me. And as a people pleaser, I wanted to fulfill those expectations as soon as possible. However, incapable of feeling the romantic attraction, I instead decided that romance is not as important as society has made it out to be. 

Even if I accept my aromantic identity, I can still love just as much as the next person. My love for little things such as books and the WNBA remained stagnant. More importantly, I love my friends and family. I do not need to search for my soulmate, but I have people I want in my life. Romantic attraction is not the only form of love. It was merely put on a pedestal above all else. 

I thought there was something poetic in the idea that my comfort character’s flower was the same color as the main one of the aromantic pride flag.  Like how Matthew Fairchild expanded the original symbolism of the green carnation to better fit himself, I decided I wanted to claim the green carnation as my own as well. Now, the green carnation is loving despite all societal barriers. That includes both the heteronormative and amatonormative standards.

Although love is no longer painted the familiar, yet outdated red I grew up with, love is now a brighter green, a color that satisfies all shapes and forms.