#the hesitant bride

[vankelmod]

[annemarart]

the reluctant bride

context  ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

the reluctant bride (la fiancée hésitante - also translated to “the hesitant fiancée” or “the hesitant betrothed”) is an oil painting made by auguste toulmouche in 1866. it is now held in a private collection. 

toulmouche usually had paintings that contained one or two girls but this one contained four girls of different ages which adds complexity to the scene. the bride wears a white wedding dress, a colour popularised by queen victoria, and stands in the middle. the two girls on the each side of the bride appear to be consoling her - it’s uncertain whether they are just friends or sisters.

this wedding was clearly not the bride’s choice as she appears to be upper middle class so she couldn’t marry out of the love in her heart, perhaps not even consulted about the marriage.

painting details ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

༉‧₊˚. the fourth girl wearing a pink dress in the background adds a touch of innocence into the painting as she appears to be oblivious to the bride’s hesitance and is instead admiring her flower crown and possibly fantasising about her future marriage, unaware of social expectations and just aware of the love that surrounds marriage

༉‧₊˚. the room, possibly the bride’s, is decorated in a normal style of 19th century housing. it is beautiful, personal and contrasts well with the bride’s bright white dress

༉‧₊˚. the bride holds a direct gaze with the viewer, her annoyance clear, and she shows no reaction to the comfort of the two girls next to her

critic reviews ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“it is one of those small interior scenes that the artist excels at painting. they are always the same young women or girls, […] this time, it is this charming blonde that you know; dressed in her bridal gown, she is sitting, surrounded by her friends that console her, […] this delicate composition will not wait long to be, like its predecessors, popularized in engravings and photography.”

༉‧₊˚. lucien dubois ᡣ𐭩 chronique – nos artistes au salon de 1866, le cadre

“submerged in a melancholic daydream, she [the bride] reveals regret for the past and a vague worry about the future. while she abandons her thoughts to a thousand concerns whose exact meaning escapes her, two of her friends try to detach her from her dark ideas.”

༉‧₊˚. félix jahyer ᡣ𐭩 salon de 1866: deuxième étude sur les beaux-arts, bnf gallica

[garbage--account]

Atsuya when Nae :

For me that's Atsuya with his baby bunny lover in the future

They have that Misa x Light vibe in them (if they were a real couple**)

I avoid straight ships because they tend to be extremely boring... but i would like to see a cute romance between these troublemakers 🐰🦊

[oshawottarchive]

The bride and the ugly ass groom

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"I have your heart," she murmured blissfully, eyelashes fluttering as she leaned in. "As you have mine."

Emotion swept through Susannah when their lips met, and so she reached up to trace Philippe's jaw, to run her fingers through his short, flaxen locks, the smell of his aftershave, the warmth of him as she wrapped her arms around him, positively melting into his embrace, and loving every minute of it.

In that moment, a moment which felt as if it lasted forever...nothing else mattered. Nothing else seemed real in the moment: Not the house, not the street outside, not the distant sound of music, none of it mattered in the instant. For so long, the only thing that existed on the Earth was her and Philippe, and their love.

Parting for air, Susannah opened her eyes and gazed up at the man she adored, her eyes glossy with joyful tears: There was so much more she wanted to say in the moment, more she wanted to express in how grateful she was that he was in her life, how much he meant to her and had come to mean to her since the night they met, all the time they'd spent together, and how overjoyed she was to love and be loved in return...

...but all she could say, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face was, "I-I love you, Philippe...I love you s-so much...!"

[spuncle]

heres a fun example with the man who is to blame for my taste in men: cary elwes. his is, again, more subtle but GODDD its so good

[muneh1966]

I cannot explain why, but this piece of art is one of my absolute favourites. It’s called the hesitant fiancée and it was painted by Auguste Toulmouche in 1855.

[popcornpieces]

messy bride costest from a few days ago!! my prosthetics are on the way as we speak rubs hands together

[widowshill]

not for nothing that roger and jeff are wearing completely identical suits for vicki's wedding down to the same pearl stick pin and it's roger that is distinguished with the accessory and the visual emphasis. that roger wears the pocket square and jeff goes plain without one, without a boutonnière (as feels the most probable and appropriate; they both wear boutonnières in roger's prophetic dream of the wedding). that not only is he wearing the handkerchief, but it's folded in such a way as so take as much space as possible – straying from accepted formality of a neat TV fold, occupying more room on the screen, drawing more attention, pointing among other things to his heart in bright white.

[satoriberry]

it's actually so rich seeing anti-abortion people be concerned about youth transitioners. it's like, so a 16 year old can carry a baby but a young trans boy can't choose to be put on hormone blockers, that's what i'm getting?

[agardeninspace]

the fact I’ll probably never see “the hesitant fiancée” (or “the reluctant bride” according to some translations) in person has me seething

look at her!! come on!

I need to behold this in a gilded frame in a way that would make my younger museum self proud

[sunjoys]

i hate customers i need to gnaw their arms off pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls

[milorits]

The Reluctant Groom

Had the idea sitting in my brain for years now. finally drew it! Well almost, I changed the lighting because I wanted to, as well as the expression. I did originally have him looking straight at the viewer, but I painted over it and liked the more downturned look.

Shout out if you recognize the carpets on the wall! I designed them myself and used them in two different artworks :)

REF: The Reluctant Bride/The Hesitant Fiancée (La Fiancée Hésitante), by Auguste Toulmouche, 1866.

Carrd

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Monster x Reader Headcanons

You find yourself kidnapped into a half-breed family of monsters and humans, for the purpose of an arranged marriage. Luckily for you, the groom is their only pure human, terribly handsome and charming. You'd perhaps appreciate him more if your eyes weren't glued to his monstrous older sibling...

Content: female reader, monster smut, reader is a shameless monster hoe

[Part 2]

You always imagined such kidnappings to be of theatrical intensity, being scooped up against your will as you scream and flail your arms, longing for a savior. The affair itself felt more like a formal summoning. Mysterious men appeared before you and merely announced that your presence is required, unfortunately without the choice of refusal. Might as well. You packed necessities under their polite supervision and now you're sitting at the table, facing multiple strangers who are casually enjoying their lunch. One of them, the head of the family apparently, explains that half-breeds are in a rather sensitive place when one considers human and monster politics. Thus, every now and then, they will do whatever it takes to strengthen their bonds and show good intent towards both species. This time it's an arranged marriage with a fellow human.

Why you, in particular? No need to concern yourself with intricate details. What matters now is that you are to be married soon and your groom is right here, enthusiastically waving in a welcoming greeting. You scan his features and can't help but agree with the family: he is, by all definitions, a conventionally handsome man. His face is carefully chiseled in most elegant, yet masculine features. His voice is confident but warm, and you can tell by the flock of servants hovering around that he's rather popular. After the luxurious meal he guides you around the imposing home, showing you to your room and briefing you on future responsibilities. Caring, attentive, and several other checks that you can easily mark in his favor.

Yet one vital aspect has been omitted. The prince's mesmerizing beauty was rather swiftly discarded once you realized the presence of his older sibling, a pure monster blood towering above everyone else and idly eating his food, uninterested. You managed to hide your blush in time, but you couldn't help throwing curious glances. Might've been easier for everyone involved if they handed out 'monster lover' badges. Alas, you weren't prepared to ever be faced with the choice.

The next day you're awoken by the murmur of diligent work, as both servants and family pace back and forth about their plans. You sneak your way out - since nothing is yet expected of you - and wander until you find your intended target: the beastly sibling is polishing a bizarre weapon you don't recognize in what seems to be a storage room littered with battle memorabilia. He notices your presence and acknowledges you with a bored nod. You ask whether you may observe his current activity and he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously before agreeing. Why would you care? Certainly there's more entertaining things for you to do as a soon-to-be bride.

As you listen to his little stories from the battleground (hardy monsters like him are better off fighting, not socializing), you have to pat your cheeks in desperate attempts to cool down your burning blush. "H-how comes you don't have a partner?" You mutter, almost feverish. "Not interested. Plus, who would dare to marry me?" he jokes, focused on the sharp item in his clawed hands. There it is. Hesitation and diplomacy out the window, you rearrange yourself, smoothening your clothing, and whisper: "Well, if I had to choose, I would've preferred you as my husband..."

Once again he stares at you bewildered. Have you come here to mock him or something? A frail, pretty human like you, about to tie the knot with his stunning younger brother, showing up here and behind everyone's backs to openly flirt with him. Ridiculous beyond comprehension. His skin is thick enough to not mind such twisted humor, so if anything he's impressed by your audacity. Alright, if you've come for jokes, he'll comply. He places his weapon down and fully turns to you. A little scare might teach you to be more respectful with your in-laws next time.

With a speedy movement that's barely registered by your eyes, he pushes you on the floor and pins you by the wrists, lowering himself uncomfortably close to your face. "If you tease me like this, I might not be able to hold back." He says as he forces himself to smile extra hard, revealing the multiple rows of fangs. "In fact, I can't guarantee you'd make it out of here alive." Hopefully he isn't going too far with his tactics. He senses your frantic breathing and is about to apologize for continuing your prank, but you blurt out in a daze: "Yes, please! I've been thinking about it ever since I saw you." You're panting for dear life as your face is turning a deep shade of red.

Uh oh. Now this is awkward. You weren't...you weren't kidding. For a moment, he freezes in place, trying to recollect himself to no avail. Fucking your brother's future wife in a storage room in the middle of the day feels like poorly written erotic romance. Then again, he can't deny the sudden urge overwhelming him at the mere thought of it. You're squirming underneath him, gliding your legs across his now obvious bulge. His common sense is hanging by a comically thin thread and he can almost hear the instant when it snaps. Thankfully some leftovers of sanity must have remained in the back of his mind and his lustful grunts while pounding you are kept low enough that no one is notified of your horny deeds. Shutting you up was the bigger challenge.

"Is this too tight, miss?" You spin in front of the mirror and the servant readjusts the lace corset adorning your wedding dress. You have to hold back your yawn. Downright shameless and perverted of you to daydream about your monster boyfriend while trying on bridal gowns, but it's not like you agreed to it to begin with. You were kind of hoping to discuss future dating prospects post-intercourse, but someone had been looking for you shortly afterwards and you struggled to regain your composure. Your scary-looking suitor shooed you away with the promise of a reunion.

Before the servant can reach for the next dress, you both jump, startled by angry shouts coming from the hall. You rush outside to witness the older sibling standing before the head of the family. The wrathful threats were coming from the much smaller half-human. "Y-you can't just decide like that!" He screams. "Of course I can. You're welcome to fight me for it." The monster sibling flashes a smug grin. "Can anyone here defeat me?" His question is met with silence. He spots you and gestures you to come towards him. "I'll say it one more time. Find another human for my brother if you have to. This one is mine." He ends his sentence in a low growl and you shiver underneath his heavy arm. Boy, what a time to be alive.

[thestuffedalligator]

When ogres travel, they do so in human shape.

They hate doing this. They think it’s beneath them. But they do it anyway.

The Vicomte Graoul de Saucisson – and this is another thing about ogres. Ogres as a species are nobility. There is no such thing as a low-born ogre. There is always room in the ogrish peerage for another vicomte, another prince, another branch to tie to the rotted tree – strode up to the chateau in human shape. The roses in the garden shivered as he passed by. The huge, high doors opened by themselves and he walked through them without a shift in his stride.

When the doors slammed shut behind him, he moved to shrug the shape off his shoulders like a coat.

Then he saw the woman.

He froze. He stared. She stared back.

He slowly pulled the shape back on. “Who are you?” he asked.

She looked mildly appalled. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing in my home?”

“Your home? This is–” He stopped. He reconsidered. “I am the Vicomte de Saucisson,” he said. “I’m looking for the Marquis de Pamplemousse. He is a… colleague of mine.”

“Oh,” she said. She could’ve looked more abashed. “I’m sorry, monsieur, he’s never mentioned you before. You must be here to share your congratulations, of course, I can fetch him right away.”

“He’s never mentioned you either,” the vicomte did not say. “Of course,” he said. “Congratulations. What about?”

She seemed surprised. “Have you not heard? Monsieur, the curse on my husband has been lifted.”

He stared. His lips started to form the words “What curse,” and then there was a sound like a horse falling down a set of stairs and a man he had never seen before wearing the marquis’s clothes came barrelling down the hall.

“Vicomte!” said the man with the marquis’s voice. “My human friend! The curse has been lifted, and I am a human once again!”

He was slightly out of breath when he reached the woman. He clasped her arm and grinned at him with manic desperation. “This is wonderful news! You must be here to share your congratulations!”

“Lie like hell,” said the man’s eyes.

The vicomte stared. “Oh!” he said. “My – human friend! Human once again! Words fail me. After all these–” (there was the slightest hesitation) “–years?”

The woman put her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes at him.

The man walked up, still grinning like a rictus chimpanzee, and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, of course! Darling, me and the vicomte are going to have a manly one-on-one conversation while he shares his congratulations, as we human men are wont to do.” And then with a strength that could only be ogrish, the marquis pulled the vicomte by the shoulder down the hall and into a drawing room.

When the bolt of the lock clicked into place behind them, the man wearing the marquis’s clothes visibly sagged.

“What the hell,” said the vicomte.

“You should’ve sent word ahead that you'd be coming today.”

“I never do.” He gesticulated and tried to conjure a single question out of the swarm buzzing in his brain. “What the hell is going on? Who was that? Why are you pretending to be human? What curse are we talking about?”

The marquis groaned and crumpled into a chair. As he did he shifted out of human shape, clothes magically tailoring themselves to contain his ogrish form, something like a moose and an orangutan.

“I had a moment of weakness.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a stroke?”

“I got married.”

“And that’s another thing–”

“Graoul, please.” He sighed and put his face in his talons. “Last winter a merchant broke into my home. He stole one of my roses, and in exchange I asked him to send me one of his daughters to be my bride.”

The vicomte nodded. This at least was a sacred and recognizable ogrish custom, and he did like to see the old ways in practice.

“And it was fine! It was perfectly lovely. She’s a wonderful woman, but one night I decided to put on a human shape to change things up in the bedroom, and she lost her mind! Started talking about how I was clearly an enchanted prince and that her love for me must’ve broken some curse and turned me human again! I had no idea how to tell her otherwise, and now I’ve done it for too long to back out.”

The vicomte stared. “Sorry,” he said. “You decided to turn into a human to spice things up in the bedroom, and that was the face you chose?”

The marquis growled. “If I knew I was going to be wearing it for the rest of my life I would’ve gone with something better.”

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"O-Oh...y-you being here with me, it...it's more of a gift to me th-than you know!"

She treasured his presence in her home: For so long had her little house felt so...empty, dark, and cold; suddenly, it felt alive with warmth and light again, just by him walking through the door. Every night he was with her, he brought with him so much light and energy to her home, so much warmth that lingered long after he departed. He made her dismal little house feel like a home again.

And he made her feel like a human again! In his company, she felt not like a monster, a beast, one might dare say, but like a real human being. She felt like she'd been trapped in the dark for so long, far beneath the earth, only for him to extend his hand and bring her out into the daylight. She felt...happy in his presence, happier than she'd been in a very long time. She felt happy, she felt secure.

She felt loved.

"Philippe, I..." she began shyly, wishing to give voice to these feelings, just how happy he made her, how much she treasured his presence in her life, and how she hoped that he felt just the same...

...but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Her brain just stopped, and she was left awkwardly flapping her lips like a fish, just as the band of a nearby restaurant struck up a new melody.

Sighing as she bowed her head, she instead opted to say, "I...I'd like to dance with you again." Maybe the music and the movement would give her the inspiration she needed to find the right words?