#virginia de winter

[diaryofanauthor]

"Se devo scegliermi una tomba, fa' che siano le tue braccia."

"Occhi che conservavano l'azzurro del Cielo poco prima della caduta degli angeli."

"Con la stessa intensità con cui avrebbe avvertito lo sbocciare di una rosa rossa nel calore opprimente dell'estate, quando fiorire e morire erano momenti separati soltanto da un'idea e il profumo del fiore ricordava già quello dei cimiteri."

"Cortese e tentatore, a volte pareva aver deciso di sedurre i suoi pensieri prima che il suo corpo."

"Scomparve, lasciando refoli di nebbia tiepidi sulla sua guancia, tentacoli oscuri di male appassionato, l'amore delle tenebre, stille infinite di una eterna, divina, mezzanotte."

"Allontanarsi da lui era stato strapparsi un braccio a morsi, tanto che non credeva di poter sopportare ancora quel dolore senza morire. E, semplicemente, contemplò ancora una volta i bordi affilati della tagliola, lucidi e scintillanti sotto il sole dorato, al canto degli uccellini che restavano imprigionati nelIa gabbia aperta, senza che il pensiero di tentare il cielo oltre lo sportello socchiuso al di là della finestra li sfiorasse."

-Black Friars. L'ordine della spada, Virginia De Winter ⚘️

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue November 1, 1951

Sunny Harnett in a little black tuller silk taffeta ball gown. Long basque bodice belted at the waist; the skirt a shower of flat pleats. By Larry Aldrich. Tabarin stockings in “Sonyette” color. Faille bag by Virginia Art. Rhinestone choker necklace by Marvella.

Sunny Harnett dans une petite robe de bal noire en taffetas de soie Tuller. Long corsage basque ceinturé à la taille ; la jupe une pluie de plis plats. Par Larry Aldrich. Bas Tabarin teinte "Sonyette". Sac en faille par Virginia Art. Collier ras de cou en strass par Marvella.

Photo Frances McLaughlin Gill vogue archive

[myscentarchive]

SANTAL 33 - Le Labo

Eau de Parfum - 1.5 ml (atomizer)

Notes- Sandalwood, Leather, Papyrus, Virginia Cedar, Cardamom, Violet, Iris, Amber

Gender: Unisex Imagine sitting in solitude on the rugged, wide plains of the American West, firelight on your face, indigo-blue night skies above. There is nothing around save for the soft, desert wind. You. Are. Free. From this defining vision was born SANTAL 33: a perfume that touches the vast and wild universality of this dream… that intoxicates… It combines a mix of cardamom and notes of iris and violet, which crackle in the formula. Added to this smoking wood alloy (Australian sandalwood, cedarwood) are some spicy, leathery, musky notes, giving this perfume its signature and addictive comforting scent.

Here is, in a few words, what SANTAL 33 is… An open fire… The soft drift of smoke… Where sensuality rises after the light has gone.

[girlintodust]

New intro post! You can find the old one here ♡

Welcome to my little special corner of the world, where I post pretty moodboards and reblog things I like (mainly involving pink and cute things) already 3 months with an active account and this girlblog is one of the few things that keep me sane, love you all.

✩ previously @anaghostprincessblog !

✩ asks and dms are always open ♡

✩ tysm for 2.2k + !!

my posts are under #nini boards ♡ and #nini talks ♡

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝒜𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

˖࣪ ໒꒱ 20 year old teenage girl, aries, bisexual, infp

˖࣪ ໒꒱ my birthday is April 2nd

˖࣪ ໒꒱ i'm a university student majoring in philosophy

˖࣪ ໒꒱ my first language is spanish, but i'm fluent in english and italian

˖࣪ ໒꒱ IMPORTANT: this blog is destined to all things i love which is a mixture of a couple different aesthetics. however, i migth use this account to vent sometimes: i suffer from an eating disorder, depression and anxiety. while i DO NOT encourage eating disorders by ANY means (this is NOT a pr0 an@ acc) i might talk about it or reblog things related, so please be advised. my dm's are always open to anyone who wants to talk, but i will not be giving advice or stats. i might also reblog or post +18 content.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

˖࣪ ໒꒱ books: the secret history (henry winter apologist), the solitude of prime numbers, to the light house and mrs dalloway by virginia woolf, anne frank's diary, kafka's metamorphosis (anything kafka really), the stranger by albert camus, jane eyre, wuthering heights, madame bovary, the bell jar, simone de beauvoir's memoirs of a dutiful daughter, alejandra pizarnik's diaries, prozac nation.

˖࣪ ໒꒱ movies/shows: crimson peak, pride and prejudice (2005), the grand budapest hotel, leon the professional, chungking express, all about lily chou-chou, howl's moving castle, the wind rises, marie antoinette, girl interrupted, edward scissorhands, alice in wonderland, the queens gambit, gilmore girls, criminal minds, modern family, fleabag, the last of us.

˖࣪ ໒꒱ music: lana del rey, fiona apple, jeff buckley, mitski, bôa, david bowie, ichiko aoba, her's, the smiths, plums, adrianne lenker, mazzy star, the cranberries, bruce springsteen, elliot smith, beach fossils, cafuné, radiohead, the cure, kate bush, the sundays, slowdive.

˖࣪ ໒꒱ people: matthew gray gubler, nana komatsu, sylvia plath, jane birkin, hope sandoval, jeff buckley, tim burton, humphrey bogart, audrey hepburn, gregory peck, keira knigthley, margaret qualley, kristine froseth, kirsten dunst, sofia coppola, anya taylor joy, elle fanning, pheobe tonkin, fiona apple, joel miller, aaron hotchner, spencer reid, theo james, pedro pascal, kate moss, franz kafka, vladimir nabokov, albert camus, tanya dziahileva.

[architect-of-the-last-act]

Part II. On Spring Cleaning, the Lingering Frost

or alternatively: No weight is heavier than regret.

+ Spring follows the harshness of Winter. Though seen as a 'soft' season, it is associated with rebirth—bloody flesh transforming into itself, skin rupturing at the seams. A renewal of sorts. Soft it may seem, Spring is simply as kind as the winter allows it to be. ... In this life, how many ghosts haunt these halls? How many will you allow? Maybe it's time for an upheaval. Such is the role of Spring.

Part I | Part III | Part IV

authors below:

Illustrations from A Stepmother’s Märchen | Unknown | Spring Equinox, Jeanette Winterson | The Years, Virginia Woolf | We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson | South London Forever, Florence & The Machine | a letter, Germaine de Staël (translated by Kathleen Jameson-Cemper) | West Wind, Mary Oliver | Letters From Medea, Salma Deera | tumblr post, @/inelegancies | Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda, Becky Albertalli | Japanese Breakfast | The Letters Of Sylvia Plath, Sylvia Plath | Vincenzo Bellini | I, Carrion (Icarian), Hozier | I Don’t Smoke, Mitski | The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller | When the Sun Loves the Moon, Reinaeiry | Soul Mates, Lang Leav | a letter, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry | This Is How You Lose The Time War, Amal El-Mohtar | Circe, Madeline Miller | a letter, Friedrich Nietzsche | Daily Haiku on Love, Tyler Knott Gregson | Ivy, Frank Ocean | The Vow | Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe | Mind Over Matter, Young the Giant | Great Expectations, Charles Dickens | I, Carrion (Icarian), Hozier | The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller | This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald | Light, Sleeping at Last | Thought Catalog, Kim Quindlen | Jay Vespertine | Unknown | Light, Sleeping at Last | City of Bones, Cassandra Clare | James Joyce | Night Walk, Franz Wright | Unknown

[andreafmn]

Running in Circles | Chapter 12

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss, and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

A/N: I've done so horribly updating this story (and all the other ones) especially this year 🫣 but hope y'all enjoy

<- Previous

Christmas had come and gone, and winter was in full swing in Virginia. And before anyone could process the holiday, it was New Year’s Eve.  

The bullpen at the BAU had slowly emptied after midday as they had been given the rest of the afternoon off to get ready for the FBI’s New Year’s Eve Celebration. They had been prompted to wear their best—from tuxes to long dresses. There were sure to be various eyecatchers regardless of the winter cold.  

(Y/N) had been finishing up with a stack of reports when she noticed she was the last one in the office, at least in the bullpen. Two offices still had their lights on. One was her father, who had been waiting for her to finish her work to take her home. The other was the ever-overworking unit chief.  

“Hey, I’ve got the last reports here,” (Y/N) said after knocking softly on Hotchner’s door. “Finished some of the ones de next week, too.”  

“That wasn’t necessary,” he replied. “You keep doing all this paperwork, and the team will leave it all to you next time.”  

“I wouldn’t really mind,” she chuckled. “Paperwork is relaxing.”  

“Definitely don’t let them hear you say that,” he laughed as he stood from his chair and slipped his coat on. “Especially Morgan. He’d be more than happy to let you relax with his work.”  

“You don’t have to tell me twice. I think I’ve done over half of his reports since I’ve been here. But don’t tell him I told you that.”  

“Your secret is safe with me,” Hotch chuckled. “You heading out now?”  

The man had crossed the room as he talked, stopping less than a foot away from (Y/N). He towered over her, staring intently into her eyes. His gaze never broke from hers, trying to speak something in a language she did not understand.  

“Y-yeah,” she croaked. “Just had that to finish, but I’m all done now.”  

“You need a ride? I’m leaving now, but I can wait for you.” 

“Oh, uh, well…”  

“Hey, kid, you ready?” David’s voice startled them apart, reminding them that not only were they not alone, but they were also at work. “Oh, Aaron. Didn’t know you were still here.”  

“Yeah, just leaving now,” he said after clearing his throat. “I guess I’ll see you both tonight.”  

“Of course you will!” Rossi smiled brightly. “Although I will miss out on a perfectly good Ardbeg Corryvreckan—this year’s world’s best single malt in the World Whiskies Awards. I guess it will have to wait until the year is new.”  

“You know tonight is not mandatory,” (Y/N) chuckled as the three of them walked out of Hotch’s office and toward the elevator. “You could still stay home and enjoy that whiskey—as long as you save some for me.” 

“And miss out on a chance to wear a tux? Absolutely not,” her father said. “And I can never pass out on a night of free food and drink. What better way to ring in the new year?”  

“Right, I forget rich people love free things,” the girl teased. “Not like you could afford a thousand nights like this one.”  

“It’s not about affording, kid,” he grinned. “It’s about opportunity. How do you think rich people stay rich?”  

“Well, then,” Hotch chuckled softly as the elevator stopped on his floor, “I’ll see you both tonight.”  

Father and daughter waited in silence for the doors to close, watching as their unit choked retreated through the parking lot. “I’ve been thinking of setting him up with someone,” David broke the silence, knocking the air out of (Y/N)’s lungs. “My friend Letty has a daughter just a few years younger than him. Her job is nowhere as exciting as ours, but he could use someone to ground him.”   

She swallowed her jealousy, knowing her father was only looking out for his friend. She couldn’t let him know how bad of an idea that was without admitting her undisclosed feelings. Instead, she simply smiled and said, “Don’t know how open he’d be to dating just yet, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.”  

“That’s the spirit, kid,” he chuckled. “I think I will give her a call. And maybe I’ll see what's around for you, too.”  

(Y/N) didn't care to be set up with anyone, but it couldn't hurt to keep her options open. Whatever game she was playing with Hotch could not survive the long run. At some point, he would either reciprocate her feelings or break her heart. Either choice would complicate things between them, but only one was the outcome she wanted. But it wasn't like she could tell her father about that. She couldn't confess just how in love she was with his old friend and their boss. Not only was it highly unprofessional but it would definitely raise a lot of eyebrows, not to mention that it would throw a wrench right in the middle of their team.  

Much like she had done for years, she swallowed down her emotions and splattered on a bright smile for her father. It was a night of celebration--the coming of the new year. Instead of focusing on a love that might never come, she turned her attention to the festivities ahead. Like many years before, David had hired a stylist and a glam squad for her daughter, even if she had told him time and time again that she didn't really care for that. And just like every year before, he smiled and said, “Maybe this year will be different.” It never was, but it didn't hurt to say. 

By the time five o’clock rolled around, (Y/N) didn’t recognize herself. Even though she had gotten her hair and makeup done before, it always surprised her that a few curls and a splash of paint could transform her entire face—hell, even her attitude. She looked herself over at the mirror in the giant groom she had in her father's house, and she couldn't quite tell who was looking back at her.  

Dressed in a floor-length beaded dress, hair perfectly curled, and lips as red as blood is what her reflection wore. She looked elegant, perfectly primped, and polished, a stark contrast to the way she looked on an everyday basis. Granted, she couldn't hunt killers wearing a full-length gown without an enormous clothing budget—not that she couldn't do it, but she doubted the FBI would allow her to step out of uniform rules.  

“Well, look at you,” her father’s voice echoed through the room. “I think this might be your best dress yet.”  

“You say that because it’s mom’s dress,” (Y/N) muttered softly as she ran her hands softly against the beads. “It is beautiful, though.” 

“I say it because it’s true, my little bird,” David smiled, placing his hands on her exposed shoulders. “You look absolutely radiant. It was made for you, my darling.” 

“I wish she was here to see me in it,” she sighed. “Do you think she would have minded me wearing it?” 

“Oh, little bird, she would have been absolutely thrilled. She told me to keep all of her gowns to make sure you could wear them one day. You were her absolute pride and joy.”  

(Y/N) couldn’t quite imagine her mother in the same dress. She tried to visualize the way the fabric would hug her body, tried to imagine the way her hair would be styled, even how her makeup would have been done, but the image never came into focus. There was no definition to her edges, no clear distinction to who she was. All (Y/N) saw was herself.  

“You look so much like her, mia bella,” David cooed. “An angel in every sense of the word, my beautiful daughter.”  

“Stop, dad,” she grinned as her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red than the shade she wore. “You're making me blush.”  

“Can a father not tell the truth?” 

“Not right now,” (Y/N) smiled brightly, interlocking her arm with David's. “We don't wanna be late to the gala. Especially when I have the hottest date on my arm.”  

“I can't disagree there,” the man smirked. “I will most definitely outshine everyone tonight.”  

“Then, what are we waiting for? Let's head out already.” 

Dressed in a couple of hundred dollars more than they had arrived at the Rossi mansion, (Y/N) and David started their drive to the Washington, D.C. Four Seasons. The patriarch had hired a car service, knowing neither of them would be sober enough to drive home safely, and if anyone asked his daughter, the streets were safer without his road rage on the streets. Somehow, an older Italian man with short patience, a holiday, and crowded roads did not mix well.  

She was also grateful David was having a lively conversation with their driver rather than focusing on her well-manicured fidgeting fingers. (Y/N) wasn't sure what she was expecting at the venue. Hotchner would be there; there wasn't any way around that. But she didn't know what would happen once the night went on and the drinks were flowing.  

Things had seemed to shift between them in the past year. They had begun to spend more time together, growing closer on a personal and seemingly emotional level. Maybe she was reading into things, but (Y/N) thought there was something happening between her and her years-long more-than-a-crush. It could have been her deepest desires clouding her mind, of course. The mind could play unkind tricks, feeding a person's ego and aiding in their delusions. That could very well be what was happening to her, but she didn't think so. At least, she hoped it wasn't that.  

The entry to the hotel was already bustling by the time the Rossis arrived. Agents old and new dressed in their Sunday best crowded the entry of the Four Seasons, funneling into the building for their annual New Year's Gala. Men and women with their respective partners or dates for the night put aside hours of their night to bring in the new year with their units. Plus, good food and unlimited drinks were often a great incentive to pack the place.  

“Emily told me the BAU was given the Seasons room on the lower lobby level,” (Y/N) whispered to her father as they snaked their way into the crowd, smiling and nodding toward agents they might have known in passing. “People have been moving in and out of all the event spaces and mingling amongst each other. But that's where they're waiting.”  

“Let’s not keep them waiting then,” he smiled. “We all know the party doesn’t start until we arrive.” 

“Oh, god, dad,” she chuckled. “Please don’t say that when we see them.” 

“Why not? It’s not a lie.” 

“You forget the part where it is not funny,” the woman said. “ 

“You laughed.” 

“Because I don’t want my aging father to feel like he isn’t still funny,” (Y/N) teased. “Thought you’d appreciate the laugh.”   

“I might be getting older, but I am not yet old, little bird,” he said, the same beaming smile he always wore splattered across his face. “Can’t have you wasting your pity laughter so early on. Although, I do know that was real laughter—it better be.”   

“Whatever you say, dad. You’re the funniest man I know.”   

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around each of the Rossis, a hearty laugh filling their ears as they reached the group of their friends and teammates. “Were you two talking about me?” Derek grinned as he exchanged glances between the two. “Because there can’t be anyone funnier than me.”  

“Same suit from three years ago, Derek?” (Y/N) teased. “You’re losing your sense of style there, buddy. What happened to your ‘a suit a year brings new cheer’ saying?”   

“Well, I may look great in a different tux every year, but my pocket doesn’t love it,” he responded. “And, honestly, I didn’t think anyone would notice. Although, I should have known you or Reid would.”   

“Yeah, she’s the reason I rent my dresses now,” Emily added. “She remembered the dress I wore two years ago was the one I wore to an event in 2008, all because she remembered seeing a picture in my living room. There’s no sense in buying a new dress every year, but I’m definitely not showing up in one I’ve put on more than twice.”   

“I don’t do it to embarrass you, guys. I just can’t help it when the thought pops into my head. Sometimes, I just have to say it, or else my mind will go crazy.”   

“Exactly!” Spencer exclaimed. “It’s not our fault our brains work this way.”  

“Guys, it doesn’t matter who’s wearing what,” David interjected with a smile. “All that matters is that in a few hours, the new year will come, and this whole year will be forgotten.”  

“Actually...”  

“If I have to listen to the story of New Year’s again,” the man interrupted Spencer, rubbing his temple, “I’m gonna need a stiff drink.”   

“I’ll go get it,” (Y/N) offered. “Anyone else need a refill?”   

A chuckle escaped the woman’s mouth as various hands shot up, all but the one she had been in search of since the moment she had arrived. The whole team sat around their designated table, all chattering and smiles, except their trusted unit chief. With a gentle sigh, she walked over to the crowded bar, trying her best to catch the bartender’s attention through the couple of heads ahead of her. To no avail.  

Everyone else was louder, taller, more assertive while she stood in the background trying to break through. The second she tried to speak up, someone else talked over her. She believed she would stand there the rest of the night just to get a couple of drinks.  

“I’m sorry,” a voice interjected. “But I believe she was next in line to order.”   

Behind her, Hotchner towered over her stature, staring down the man who had cut her off just as she had managed to reach the front of the bar. He placed a protective hand on the low of her back, his eyes stuck on the man beside them. His gaze remained stoic until the agent felt embarrassed enough to move to the other side of the bar where the other bartender was, excusing himself with a quiet ‘sorry’ and his head hanging low.  

“Go ahead, (Y/N),” Hotch smiled. “You can order now.”  

The woman couldn’t help the way her heart hammered in her chest as his hand sent waves of warmth through her body. (Y/N) tried to keep her words steady, thankful for the makeup on her face that covered the blood pooling on her cheeks as her body shook with nerves. Hotch remained in the same position as she ordered drinks for the group, adding a whiskey on the rocks at the end for himself. Maybe he hadn’t paid the move any mind, but she could not stop focusing on it until both their hands were occupied with a few glasses each.  

“Thanks for that,” (Y/N) managed to croak out as they walked back to the team. “I thought I was going to be stuck there all night.”   

“I’m sure you would have been able to handle yourself fine,” he said. “But a little help never hurt anybody.”  

“And it's very much appreciated,” she smiled. “Is Jack with Jessica tonight?”  

“Yeah. We had our own New Year's celebration before I left,” he chuckled as he remembered what had occurred only an hour before. “He asked me why there were no fireworks outside, and we had to watch them on TV. I told him fireworks weren't a thing this year, but I'm not sure he believed me.”  

“I don't think he did. That boy really loves the lights,” (Y/N) laughed. “But there's always Fourth of July for fireworks.” 

“I just hope he doesn't keep his aunt up to see if it's true.”  

Once they reached the table, the woman realized they were not the only two people in the world. For a minute, everything around them had vanished. It was just her in her mother's champagne beaded gown and Hotchner in a stunning black tux. For that minute, she could imagine there was something more between them than she thought there was.  

For the next couple of hours, while they sat at the table and dinner was served, the only thing she could think of was Hotch's hand on her back. She remembered in vivid detail the way his fingers stretched and flexed against her exposed skin, his warmth sinking into her with a comforting and intoxicating touch. (Y/N) tried her best not to let it show just how much that simple move had affected her, but she could feel her eyes drifting toward him every couple of minutes.  

What she didn't know was just how much it had stuck to Hotch's mind as well. That minute of having his hand flush against her back had made his heart skip a beat. His breath had hitched in his throat as he felt the softness of her skin against his. If it had been up to him, he would have kept it there the rest of the night. But the imminent threat of an overbearing man had been long gone, and he couldn't justify keeping the protective hold on her, especially with a couple of drinks occupying his hands. At the table, his eyes would drift to her when she wasn't looking. He couldn't help looking at her whenever she laughed or talked. Her magnetism was unavoidable, and he was susceptible to it.  

Throughout the entirety of the dinner, and the few drinks that had come and gone from the table, Hotchner could only think of a way to get her alone. For what? He wasn't really sure. All he knew was he wanted as much time with her as he possibly could have. The rest, he had yet to plan for that.  

As the night went on, the chances grew slimmer and slimmer. There had been awards and speeches, various presentations and slideshows shown, and midnight was quickly approaching. The formalities of the night had come and gone, and the fun had begun. The lights had gone down, music had been turned up, and people had left their tables to fill the dance floor and wait until the clock struck twelve.  

In the commotion, Hotchner had lost (Y/N). One second, he'd been drinking in the image of her dressed in gold, and the next, she had disappeared in a sea of FBI agents. His eyes scoured the crowd, his mind focused on only one person. And when they finally fell on her, rage bubbled from deep inside him. Back at the bar, (Y/N) had taken a seat. She was nursing a drink while the same guy from the start of the night seemed to be pestering her. Hotch could read her body language from a mile away, and she needed a way out.  

“Come on,” the man insisted. “Just tell me if you’re here as a guest or you’re an agent. It’s a simple question.” 

“I don’t feel comfortable giving out that kind of information to someone I don’t know.” 

“My name’s Pete, how about that?” he said, slurring his words. “Now you know who I am.” 

“Just because I know a name doesn’t mean I know you, Pete,” (Y/N) stated as she swirled her drink around. She had come to the bar to escape the heat that had overtaken her being so close to Hotch. But instead of solace, she had found an even bigger hindrance than body heat. “Now, I’d like to enjoy my drink alone.” 

“Definitely an agent. Wouldn’t be this closed off if you weren’t,” the man muttered, seemingly trying to do it under his breath but failing. “No one should be alone on a holiday, miss. And as bad of a start as we had, I make great company.” 

“As much as I would love to find out if that’s true, I’m sure your own date would appreciate your company. Me? I’d rather down this old-fashioned in peace.” 

“Come on. At least tell me your name.” 

“Can’t do that, Pete,” she said. “Best you go back to who you came with.” 

“Oh, Alyssa doesn’t mind,” he chuckled awkwardly. “She knows I need room to breathe. And you look like a breath of fresh air.”  

“I’m more of a deadly gas, but thank you,” (Y/N) smiled sarcastically. “Now, like I said, I want to drink alone.”   

“Come on, baby, you shouldn’t be alone tonight,” Pete pressed on. “Who else will you kiss at midnight?”  

“It’s not gonna be you, man.” Hotch appeared seemingly out of nowhere for the second time that night. At least, that’s how it appeared to her. She had not witnessed the intense focus the man had held on to her for the past few hours and how long he had spent looking for her. “I believe she has told you already to leave her be.”   

“Look, man, this has nothing to do with you,” Pete argued as he squared up to Hotchner, trying his best to match up to the man’s height. “We’re just talking here. Why don’t you get lost already?”  

“I don’t think that’s what the lady here wants,” Hotch said sternly. “Now, your date might be okay with you venturing out, but I’m not. And as her date, I would heavily advise you to take two steps back and keep walking, Pete.”  

The unit chief pronounced every syllable of the man’s name, his tone even but menacing. His eyes burned red with anger, and he had taken the empty space on her left side permanently. Just like he had done at the beginning of the night, Hotch held his gaze firmly on Pete. And it didn’t waver until the man finally cowered and left, a deep red hue painted across his face.  

“My hero,” (Y/N) chuckled once Pete was finally far away. “Second time in a few hours, too. You just seem to be there when I need you.”   

“What are friends for?” he smiled, his eyes softening as they fell on her. “Are you okay? Did he do anything?”  

“I’m fine,” she said. “You arrived just in time, twice, and apparently as my date tonight.”  

“I’m sorry. Was that too much?”  

“It was perfect,” (Y/N) grinned, feeling emboldened enough to place her hand on his. “Although you know that means you owe me a kiss at midnight, right?”   

“Well, it’s not like that would be torture.” The words took them both aback. In part because Hotch had said it and in part because it had not seemed like a joke. “You know, it’s almost 12.”  

“Right. Just a few minutes until the New Year.”  

“Why don’t we, uh, head somewhere a bit more quiet?”  

“We can go up to the courtyard,” she offered. “The office separated the space, but there wasn’t really anyone there because of the cold.”  

Hotchner held out his hand for her, helping her off the bar stool and leading her toward the only place everyone seemed to be avoiding. Just as she had said, only a floor up, the courtyard was empty, save for a few employees taking a quick smoke break, but a few space heaters had been scattered around the area—not that it helped in the cold of the middle of winter, but it made things a bit more bearable. Before closing the door behind them, he grabbed two champagne flutes and closed them away from the rest of the world.  

“I didn’t notice how loud it was in there until now,” (Y/N) pointed out. “I’m glad we’re out here.”  

“Well, I couldn’t let you be anywhere near Mr. Pete. Now, could I?”  

“I’m sure Pete will remember you for the rest of the year,” she laughed. “And I don’t think he and Alyssa will be attending next year—at least not together.”  

“I think he got enough air,” Hotchner joined in her laughter. “We’ll see just how much he gets when Alyssa catches wind of what he's been up to.”  

A comfortable silence fell between them as commotion started inside the event hall. Everyone shuffled around inside to gather at the front of any screen that was playing the countdown. There was only a minute left on the clock, and it would officially be a new year. It was a chance for renewal, a chance for new beginnings, a chance for love, or maybe something more. The new year brought the semblance of choices, the hope that somehow something worthwhile would come to your life despite all the pain and heartache the past may have brought. It brought the chance of solidifying maybes.  

“It's almost midnight,” Hotch whispered as he draped his suit jacket across her shoulders. (Y/N) hadn't noticed her body had started to shake until she felt the warmth of his body seep through her skin, melting away any ounce of cold that had been embedded in her bones. “Do you have your resolutions for the new year?” 

“Something like that,” she smiled up at him, getting as close as she could without scaring him off. “Other rituals haven't seemed to work for me, so maybe some simple wishing will do the trick this time.” 

Hotch didn't back down from her approach. Instead, he took a step closer. “And what will those wishes be?”  

“If I tell you, they won't come true,” she said, finally closing the distance between them. Her chest was pressed against his, her eyes fluttering up to his as a smile stretched across her crimson lips. “Are you willing to risk yours?” 

“Not so sure,” he whispered. “I'm kind of hoping they come true, and we're far too close to midnight to take chances. Only twenty seconds to go.”  

“We don't have to do this, Hotch,” (Y/N) stated, feeling nerves bubbling deep in her chest. “It was just a silly joke.”  

“I don't mind,” Hotchner said. “At the end of the day, it's just a kiss.”   

But it wasn't. Not to either of them. Even if the other didn't know, that kiss meant more to them than they would ever want to admit. It would be the ellipsis to the question they had been too scared to ask, the cementing of the feelings they had harbored for years but were too terrified to admit, the beginning of a whirlwind of doubts they would carry in their hearts. Maybe it was a dumb decision. Maybe they should have walked away at that moment. 

But when the crowd inside the hotel yelled out the last five seconds, their hearts were beating as one—fast and loud, thrilling anticipation coursing through their veins. That was it. The new year. Only one second away.  

“On...” The words died in (Y/N)'s mouth as Hotch crashed his lips to her. One of his hands circled her waist, while the other cradled her cheek as he pulled her to her like she belonged to him—not that he knew that she always had. He savored her taste and reveled in her warmth, thanking whatever being was out there for allowing him that fleeting moment with her. The kiss was sudden and desperate. Hotchner believed it would be the first and the last, and he planned to take advantage of every second she allowed.  

As soon as their lips had touched, fireworks erupted in the sky. They perfectly embodied the moment, creating a visual of what was going on in their insides at that very second. It was now the new year, and they were both spending it with the one person that had clouded their mind the entirety of the past year. Even if they thought the kiss meant nothing to the other person, it meant the world to them.  

“Happy New Year, (Y/N),” Hotchner said as he was forced to break the kiss for air. His arms were still circled around her waist, keeping her close for as long as she let him.  

“Happy New Year, Aaron,” she smiled brightly before noticing his lips. “You have red lipstick on you.” 

“Oh, god.” 

He went to wipe it, but all he did was smear it around. “Here,” she said as she reached her thumb to his lip. “Let me.” 

Their eyes locked on the other, an inkling of something unspoken shining in them. So many feelings and confessions lingered between the two, waiting anxiously for the moment they were able to break free. They trembled under the surface, pushing against their lies and their silence. All they wanted was to be revealed.  

But that would not be the moment.  

“There you guys are,” David’s voice startled them apart. His back was turned to them as he motioned to the team from behind the door, shielding their closeness from them until they were a safe distance apart. “Wow, what a view you guys got here.” 

“Uh, yeah,” (Y/N) said. “Hotch wanted to record the fireworks for Jack since he couldn’t see them.”  

“You guys should have told us you were here,” Penelope exclaimed. “It’s gorgeous! Look at those lights!” 

“Yeah, we just sort of ended up here,” Hotch interjected. “Thought I would get a better view of the fireworks from here than the patio downstairs.”  

“Well, you were right, friend,” David said as he clapped Hotchner’s back. “Perfect place to say goodbye to the old year.” 

“It really is,” he said, fighting the urge to let his eyes drift toward (Y/N). “Happy New Year, David.” 

As everyone hugged and wished each other a happy new year, Hotch and (Y/N) remained next to each other, their arms by their sides. Each of them felt the overwhelming urge to reach their hands toward the other, their need for closeness itching deep in their veins. But there, in front of their team and her father, they could not give in. Especially while they each thought the other did not feel the same.  

By the time they had finished saying their well wishes, a flurry of stark white snowflakes had begun descending from the sky.  

“It’s snowing,” (Y/N) smiled, looking at the sky alongside the rest of the team. “It’s so beautiful.” 

“Yeah,” Hotch said, taking advantage of the team’s distraction to stare directly at the woman beside him. “It is.”  

Winter was never kind, but that one seemed to be a chilly one. At that time, as she hugged Hotch’s jacket tighter to her body, (Y/N) didn’t think it to be a premonition of the year that awaited them. All she could think of was the kiss that she had just shared with Hotch, not knowing he was thinking of the same thing.  

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[whencyclopedia]

Jamestown Colony of Virginia

The Jamestown Colony in Virginia was the first permanent English settlement in North America founded in 1607. It was the third attempt of the Virginia Company of London to establish a permanent trade center in the Americas following the failures of the Roanoke Colony (1587-1590) and the Popham Colony of 1607-1608.

The primary objective of the Jamestown Colony was profit for the shareholders who financed the expedition, and at first, it seemed a failure. Those who had been selected to establish it turned out to be unfit for the task except for Captain John Smith (l. 1580-1631) who was able to negotiate with the native Powhatan tribe and assume leadership of the colonists.

After Smith left the settlement for England in 1609, however, the colony seemed doomed, enduring the harrowing winter of 1609-1610 which killed off most of the colonists. A supply ship in May 1610 brought two of the men who would reverse their fortunes: John Rolfe (l. 1585-1622) and Sir Thomas Gates (l. c. 1585-1622) and another, in June 1610 CE would bring the third, Thomas West, Lord De La Warr (l. 1577-1618).

Rolfe had a novel idea for a new blend of tobacco which became the colony's cash crop, Gates organized the colony as governor, and De La Warr prevented its desertion and directed Gates. In 1611, Sir Thomas Dale (l. c. 1560-1619) arrived who would initiate the founding of the Henricus Colony of Virginia and begin the removal of the indigenous Powhatan tribes from the surrounding lands.

Tobacco was a labor-intensive crop, which led to the policy of indentured servitude and, eventually, slavery. In 1619, the first Africans arrived in Jamestown and, at first, seem to have worked in the same capacity and under the same policies as indentured servants.

That same year, the assembly of the House of Burgesses was convened, the first English representational governing body in the Americas and, also, the Jamestown Brides program was launched. In 1622, the Powhatan Confederacy launched a united attack to drive the settlers out and, in 1624, King James I of England (r. 1603-1625) took direct control of Jamestown through a royal charter.

The settlement continued to thrive until 1699 when it was abandoned in favor of Williamsburg as the colonial capital. The site was purchased by a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Barney, in 1892 to prevent development, and preservation efforts began in 1900 with archaeological efforts continuing to the present day in the area, now a national park.

Early Colonization Efforts

European colonization of the Americas began with Christopher Columbus (l. 1451-1506) who colonized the islands of the Caribbean for Spain between 1492-1504. The success of these early colonies and the wealth they generated inspired Spain to send others to search for gold and expand its colonial presence until, by the end of the 16th century, Spain held lands ranging from the Caribbean through South, Central, and southwestern North Americas. France and the Netherlands had also claimed lands in the region during this same time. England, therefore, was a latecomer.

Initially, England contented itself with funding privateers like Sir Francis Drake (l. c. 1540-1596) and Sir Martin Frobisher (l. c. 1535-1594) to seize the cargo of Spanish ships returning from their colonies or raid Spanish port cities, but eventually, Queen Elizabeth I of England (r. 1558-1603) understood it would be more efficient to establish their own bases in the Americas where ships could be built and launched against the Spanish. She gave the job of organizing a concerted effort to Sir Walter Raleigh (l. c. 1552-1618) who sent the Amadas-Barlowe Expedition to claim suitable land, not already claimed by a European nation, in 1584.

Receiving a good report from his captains upon their return, Raleigh named the region they had mapped Virginia after Elizabeth, the virgin queen, and sent another expedition, under Ralph Lane (d. 1603) who established a short-lived colony at Roanoke (in modern-day North Carolina). Lane's colony would not survive, mainly owing to Lane's mistreatment of the natives and betrayal of their initial hospitality, and neither would a second one established by John White in 1587, the so-called “lost colony”.

Continue reading...

[grizzlyofthesea]

To everyone in the northern hemisphere, especially those of you who live above the Tropic of Cancer:

Winter is coming.

Make sure you're adequately prepared for the cold weather. Here are a few things to keep in mind.

Dress for the weather.

Even if you insist that you're uniquely cold resistant, you're still just a human. Protect yourself. Wear long sleeves, thicker fabrics, multiple layers, and sturdy shoes. Make sure you have a good winter coat. Keep protective pieces handy to cover other parts of your body--hat, gloves, scarf, etc.

Stay hydrated, both inside and out.

Remember to drink enough water and other healthy, hydrating fluids. A hot cup of tea or hot cocoa can go a long way in warming you up, too. Also, remember to practice good skin care. The cold, dry air in winter leeches moisture out of your skin more quickly than you'd think. Moisturize regularly. Exfoliate every so often to clear the buildup of dead skin. Apply lip balm as needed to prevent chapped lips. If you decide to try any new skin care products, check the ingredients for known allergens, and test them on a small area of skin before applying everywhere in case of unknown sensitivities.

Anticipate the unusual.

Remember the disaster that happened with Texas' power grid in 2021? The damage caused and lives lost were unexpected and devastating. As climate change continues to alter weather patterns worldwide, we need to remember that "the worst" can always happen to us, no matter how unlikely it may be. Be prepared for emergencies of all types.

Have a plan for potential power outages.

Power outages can be outright lethal in harsh weather. Be prepared in case one happens in your area. If you have a generator, make sure it's working properly. Maintain alternate sources of light and heat, like lanterns, candles, and fireplaces. In the event that you need to leave your home and temporarily stay somewhere else, plan an efficient route to your destination.

Limit your time in the cold.

Proper clothing is a great protective measure, but sometimes, it just isn't enough. If the weather is especially bad, only stay outside as long as you need to. Frostbite is no joke; stave it off however you can.

Save enough time to de-snow and defrost your vehicle before driving.

Freeing your vehicle from its icy prison can really cut into your commute. Get out the door a few minutes early so you can prepare without rushing. Having a snow brush and an ice pick in your vehicle is great for speeding up the process, too.

Watch out for cold weather hazards.

Ice can trip even the best of us. Black ice is almost invisible on roads. Snow squalls severely limit visibility. Certain wildlife can pop up unexpectedly; for example, West Virginia and Pennsylvania are hot spots for deer-related vehicle accidents at this time of year. Stay alert no matter where you are.

Set aside some time for self-care.

Winter can take a toll on your mental health. The cold, the extended darkness, and planning for the holidays are all notable stressors. Slow down and take care of yourself as needed.

Stay safe out there. :)

[sylfvr]

Dedicated to the Ice Caverns not far from the peaceful village of Dali. Inspired by a couple of mornings of frozen silence and halted time. To the blackberry bush outside my window which looks so pristine clad in white. To the mellifluous winter winds. To my friends and family. To the community. Thank you.

The cover art is a digital collage made of:

pdimagearchive.org/images/b656ed61-4a1b-4ec8-a4de-bd1f08e6fa70/ pdimagearchive.org/images/879c0c34-1018-4e76-bb9e-e34fb77ed0ea/

The logo's font is traced from the font visible on the cover of Old French Fairytales, illustrated by Virginia Frances Sterrett (1920) publicdomainreview.org/collection/old-french-fairytales-illustrated-by-virginia-frances-sterrett-1920/

The frame was made by myself.

I recommend listening to this album either at night or as the sun is slowly rising during winter.

[undaughtered]

I saw longlegs because of your posting and loved it!! You mention trauma theory and it, do you have reading recommendations? If you don’t mind, of course.

im so glad you enjoyed it and very honoured my posts convinced you to go!

some of these are not explicitly trauma theory books- a lot of them focus on mental illness- but i learned trauma theory from psychoanalysts, in classes intended to train psychoanalysts and therapists, so i've pulled these books from there as well as my own research.

the body keeps score by bessel van der kolk is a classic for a reason

trauma: explorations in memory edited by cathy caruth is one of my go-to collections: i especially like the essay by laura brown

the divided self by r.d. laing is one of the most profoundly beautiful books i have ever read

medusa's hair by gananath obeyesekere is another very beautiful book

trauma and the destructive-transformative estruggle: clinical perspectives edited by terrence mcbride and maureen murphy: susan berger's article in this is very good

beyond the pleasure principle by freud is invaluable; the strachey edition is best if you can find it

"studies on hysteria" by joseph breuer and sigmund freud (in volume 2 of the strachey editions)- i did a close study on the anna o case over the winter term and as uncomfortable as a lot of their work is from a modern perspective it is still incredibly valuable

psychological healing: a historical and clinical studdy by pierre janet (a good accompaniment to freud in general)

betrayal trauma: the logic of forgetting childhood abuse by jennifer freyd

two vaguely off the cuff recommendations:

virginia woolf: the impact of childhood sexual abuse on her life and work by louise de salvo

spirit and trauma: a theology of remaining by shelley rambo; also resurrecting wounds: living in the afterlife of trauma by the same author. rambo is a theologian, so these might not take if you're not religious, but in terms of longlegs (which i regard as highly theological in a lot of ways anyway) and its relationship with God and theology, i think there's a lot of fruitful stuff here. as well her essay on the haemorrhaging woman is very good.

books i have not personally read but feel comfortable vouching for:

against the unspeakable: complicity, the holocaust, and slavery in america by naomi mandel

an archive of feelings: trauma, sexuality, and lesbian public cultures by ann cvetkovich

trauma and recovery: the aftermath of violence from domestic abuse to political terror by judith herman

shattered subjects: trauma and testimony in women's life-writing by suzette henken

[diaryofanauthor]

"Un soldato senza esercito che combatte con una spada di vetro, per un'illusione, fragile come la sua unica arma."

"Il lievissimo odore dello zolfo si spense nell'aria insieme al fiammifero, strappandole un pensiero inquieto sul briciolo di inferno che bruciava sulla punta di una candela, quando loro erano insieme."

"Un fascino che aveva qualcosa di magico, l'assenza di scrupoli messa a tacere con noncuranza dietro i fini, sicuramente nobili, e i mezzi, che di certo lo erano di meno."

"Ho fatto la cosa giusta una volta e ti ho persa. Non succederà di nuovo. Non me ne importerebbe nulla se anche il mondo dovesse crollare per questo."

"La sua mano forte era macchiata di sangue e la sua espressione tranquilla. Lui l'avrebbe amata anche se fosse stata un mostro."

"Voci di angeli che ispiravano la passione dell'Inferno."

"Ricordava sempre la bellezza degli angeli: dolente e distante al momento di uccidere o di abbracciare, restava a un passo dalla vita in cui gli altri si gettavano a precipizio."

"Se lui avesse potuto dire il suo nome ancora una volta, a voce così bassa da poterla sentire invece che ascoltarla. Se lo avesse fatto, così piano da non permettere alla veglia di ricordarle perché quel suono non poteva più renderla felice."

-Black Friars. L'ordine della spada, Virginia De Winter 🖤

[chicinsilk]

Vogue US September 15, 1961

Emba

Model/Modèle : Lucinda Hollingsworth

Photo Virginia Thoren

vogua archive

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, June 16, 2024

My posts

Now all my crape myrtles have mildew. Additionally, I have hurt my back yet again and I am scuncht about it. Thus, I’m on muscle relaxers again, so here’s hoping this post is lucid. 

Also, I underestimated how many people really, really needed to hear good news about the “my husband and FIL insist I will die in childbirth” woman on AITA back in 2020.  

Reblogs of interest

Happy Loving Day (June 12), in honor of the Loving v. Virginia case that legalized interracial marriage in the U.S. within living memory. Good discussion in the reblogs. 

A Pride flag made of Space from NASA

The Sting Pain Index from Justin O. Schmidt, Pain Sommelier

You don’t even know you’re luft

Shark de Triomphe. Chomps Élysées. Bon-Jaws

Cats have always been cats: Witness my Act and Deed (1882)

Why be mean about the small dog? Well…

Count von Count and his Countmobile (ah ah ahhhh)

Attn freelancers: “There is power in a union, even if it's only the union in your head.”

John Singer Sargent portraits and their subjects

“You aren’t behind. You are gathering and processing data”

Faire does it all

You got wives at home

Gonna have the boys over to measure the five and a half minute hallway

BOSS MAKES A DOLLAR/I MAKE A DIME/THATS WHY I MAKE MEADE/OUTTA THE COMPANY SLIME

This Joe Kavik bird sculpture is eminently Shaped

Video

A musical dog

A fluffy kitten learns to skateboard

Petr Barna’s Charlie Chaplin routine for the 1992 Winter Olympics

The sacred texts

“You’d be so pretty if you lost weight!”

Personal tag of the week

Color, because I just really like pretty colors and we had a lot of them this week.

[girlintodust]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ about me ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

˖࣪ ໒꒱ my name's Jo, nini is a childhood nickname!

˖࣪ ໒꒱ i'm 20, aries, infp, bisexual

˖࣪ ໒꒱ i speak english, spanish and italian

˖࣪ ໒꒱ i'm a college student majoring in philosophy

˖࣪ ໒꒱ some things i love: books, reading, coffee, coke zero, going out for walks, music (especially discovering new music you know it'll become your favorite), classical music, people watching while smoking, pencil sketches, pinterest, old hollywood films, japanese culture, rain and winter, cats, pretty rings, listening to people talk.

˖࣪ ໒꒱ pls MDNI directly (explanation below) ⤵

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ important! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

˖࣪ ໒꒱ this blog is destined to all things i love which is a mixture of a couple different aesthetics. however, i migth use this account to vent sometimes: i suffer from an eating disorder, depression and anxiety. while i DO NOT encourage eating disordes by ANY means (this is NOT a pr0 an@ acc) i might talk about it or reblog things related, so please be advised. my dm's are always open to anyone who wants to talk, but i will not be giving advice or stats. i might also reblog or post +18 content.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ my favorites ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

˖࣪ ໒꒱ books: the secret history (henry winter apologist), the solitude of prime numbers, to the light house and mrs dalloway by virginia woolf, anne frank's diary, kafka's metamorphosis, the stranger by albert camus, jane eyre, wuthering heights, madame bovary, the bell jar, simone de beauvoir's memoirs of a dutiful daughter, alejandra pizarnik's diaries, prozac nation.

˖࣪ ໒꒱ movies: crimson peak, pride and prejudice (2005), into the wild, amelie, the grand budapest hotel, leon the professional, chungking express, all about lily chou-chou, howl's moving castle, the wind rises, marie antoinette, girl interrupted, edward scissor hands, alice in wonderland.

˖࣪ ໒꒱ music: lana del rey, fiona apple, ethel cain, ichiko aoba, her's, the smiths, plums, mazzy star, the cranberries, beach fossils, radiohead, the cure, kate bush.

˖࣪ ໒꒱ people: matthew gray gubler, nana komatsu, sylvia plath, jane birkin, hope sandoval, tim burton, humphrey bogart, audrey hepburn, gregory peck, keira knigthley, kirsten dunst, sofia coppola, anya taylor joy, elle fanning, pheobe tonkin, fiona apple, aaron hotchner, spencer reid, theo james, kate moss, franz kafka, vladimir nabokov, albert camus.

[earl-grey-teacake]

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

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

Ahhh! Thank you for asking!

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

Please enjoy my ramblings about fabrics and perfumes!

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

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

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

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

Duchy of Mercedes/Earldom of Williams-House of Hamilton

Colors: Blue, Silver, Black

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

Jewelry: Sapphires set in silver

Secondary gender and scent

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

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

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

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

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

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

Earldom of Mclaren-House of Piastri

Colors: Black, papaya

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

Jewelry: Topaz set in gold

Secondary gender and scent

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

Duchy of Sainz- House of Norris-Sainz

Colors: crimson, maroon, black

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

Jewelry: Ruby set in gold

Secondary Gender and scent

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

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

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

[alex-in-the-aether]

HoL Spoilers, also Long Post Warning

Finally got to the part in House of Leaves where it’s revealed the house was originally in Jamestown, Virginia. In the 1600’s. (Pages 409-414):

“ ‘Too bad. Virginia, you know, has a tradition of ghosts — though I’ve never seen one.’

…It is not surprising The Navidson Record does not pause to consider this reference, especially considering that Karen is far more concerned about the house and Navidson’s whereabouts than she is with the 17th century history. However having some familiarity with the bloody and painful origins of that particular toe hold in the new world reveals just how old the roots of that house really are. Thanks to The London Company, on May 2, 1607, 105 colonists were deposited on a marshy peninsula where they established… the Jamestown Colony… The ensuing winter of 1609-1610 almost killed everyone and had it not been for Lord De la Warr’ a timely arrival with supplies those still living would have fled[footnote #395 marker] …All of which is relevant only because of a strange set of pages… as the journal reveals, [three men] had traveled for several days until they stumbled onto an icy field where they camped for the night. The following spring two of their thawing bodies were found along with this priceless document. For the most part, the entries concern the quest for game, the severe weather and inevitable understanding that cold and hunger were fast colluding into the singular sensation of death:

[Sorry if the following section’s hard to read, but I wanted to keep parts of the original formatting. The blank parts ([]) are where I removed a letter or two to ‘modernize’ a word.]

18 Janiuere [January], 1610

We [s]earch for deer[] and alway[]s there is nothing. Tiggs believe[s] our luck will change.”

[Insert two pages of Johnny T’s footnotes] [Page 413 onwards:]

“Likewi[s]e we mu[s]t also believe or el[s]e in the name of the Lorde take charge of the Knowledge that we are all dead men.

20 Janiuere, 1610

More [s]now. Bitter cold. This is a terrible Place we have stumbled on. It was been a Week [s]ince we ha[v]e [s]pied one living thing. Were it not for the [s]torm we would have abandoned it. Verm was plagued by many bad Dream[]s last night. 21 Janiuere, 1610

The [s]torm will not break. Verm went out to hunt but returned within the hour[e]. The Wind makes a wicked [s]ound in the Woods. [S]trange as it mu[s]t [s]eem, Tiggs, Verm, and I take comfort in the [s]ound. I fear much more the [s]ilence here. Verm tell[s] me he dreamt of Bones last night. I dream[] of the Sun[].

22 Janiuere, 1610

We are dying. No food. No [s]helter. Tiggs dreamt he [s]aw all [s]now about us turn Red with blood.

And then the last entry:”

[More Johnny T…]

“23 Janiuere, 1610

[S]tair[]s! We ha[v]e found [s]tai[]rs![footnote #400 marker]”

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it seems like no one on here talks about this section, even though it was such an interesting twist…