#Chiffon is literally adorable and I love her with all my heart

[murdleandmarot]

@realreulbbrband SHES BEEN HAUNTING ME AND ROTTING MY BRAIN SHES SOOO CUTE <3

This lovely lady’s name is Chiffon :))!!

[ellewords]

Hiiii! I don't know if it's late for sending this, but I kinda wanted to share this. I'm so sorry if it's long or something... I really hope you enjoy it.

You see, the thought of wedding began to swim in my head since I was 6. I know it's too early for that, but idk why. I always dreamt of getting married, having a lavish wedding ceremony... I used to wear my mother's white chiffon scarf as a veil with my white dress which I used to wear when I was 3 or 4 (It was so tight!). But there would be a huge smile on my face.

As I got older, I realised I can't wear a white gown on my wedding day. As a Bangladeshi, I have to wear red saree with gold jewellery, which aren't bad, but I lowkey want to wear a white gown with a pretty veil, holding a beautiful bouquet of different flowers. Just thinking myself seeing in one makes me smile. When I went to Melbourne and was outside for shopping, I'd stop in front of a store that sold wedding gowns. I'd just stare wistfully at them.

One day, out of nowhere, a thought crossed my mind. I'm in a beautiful white dress that I saw on pinterest, walking down the aisle... and in the end of the aisle, Sugawara is standing, wearing a fancy three piece suit. He looks at me and... time just stops. Tear begins to roll down his cheeks... mine too. When I get there, he holds my hand, still crying, he says how he's elated that I'm with him. And I just 🥺

I know it got a bit self indulgent, but I couldn't help myself, because it's Sugawara. And I literally become like Monica from "Friends" when it comes to wedding. Like I have a pinboard full of ideas, wedding playlists, I've also decided what kind of invitations I want for my wedding...

I think I rambled enough. Have a beautifully nice day!

— from elle ! hi hi,, nope you're not too late :) there isn't really a deadline for this, you can pretty much send in stuff any time you want so no worries ! self-indulgent is also perfectly fine, reading what you sent in made me smile and ig part of the appeal of fanfic (and writing in general) is the escapism and imagining yourself in all these different scenarios. anyways, quick lil walking down the aisle drabble feat. a f!reader under the cut (as usual). tysm for this and i hope you are having a wonderful day. <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

“calm down, everything’s going to be fine.” asahi tried to reassure, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder in a futile attempt to make him relax.

suga was currently sweating buckets, wringing his hands together in complete and utter nervousness. the ceremony was meant to start in just a couple of minutes and various questions invaded his mind: what if something goes wrong? what if you end up regretting saying yes to his proposal? what if you resent him for the rest of your lives? what if you don’t show up at all?

his train of thought was cut off by daichi shaking his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance once and for all, “the ceremony is about to start any second and you look like you’re about to run away—”

suga’s eyes widened, immediately cutting off his best man, “what? no i would never even think of doing that? do i really look that freaked out?”

“you do,” daichi laughed, shaking his head at suga, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“more than i can even imagine.”

“and she loves you,” daichi smiled, “you’re about to marry the love of your life. seconds from now, she’s going to walk through those doors and you’re going to ask yourself what you were so nervous for in the first place.”

suga nodded, letting out a breath. the beating of his heart was still as loud as it had been, maybe even more as he began to hear the familiar tune of a piano playing. but at least the butterflies in his stomach begin to settle, keeping his hands folded in front of him as the wedding party walked down the aisle.

the smile on his face widens as the flower girls walk down, throwing petals in each and every possible direction — some even threw them directly at the guests. of course, the crowd only cooed at them, thinking it was absolutely adorable. suga also gives quick little high five to the ring bearer after he had given them to best man, those who looked on swooned at the sweet little gesture.

the piano’s tune changes, the wedding march plays. the doors open to reveal you.

suga’s smile falters, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as he muttered out a quiet, “woah.”

time stops; everyone and everything is an afterthought to you walking towards him. his entire world is making her way to where he was, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers, in the most beautiful dress. you glowed, a smile on your face and a couple of escaping the corners of your eyes. the music has been reduced to a whisper that played in the back of his mind, the crowd nothing but a hazy blur. you’re the only thing in the room worth taking in at the moment.

suga wasn’t even aware that he had begun crying until daichi hands him a handkerchief, “told you so, buddy.”

you finally take your place in front of him, handing your bouquet to your maid of honor. your knees feel like they’re about to give in, seeing suga with nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes, taking in every single inch of you.

“hi.” you whispered, unsure of what exactly to say. there’s nothing but silence, that and shaky breathing and the pounding of your hearts. this is actually happening, there’s no turning back now.

suga takes your hands in his, thumbs gently brushing over the back of your hand, like he was trying to make sure that you were real; that you weren’t plucked straight out of his dreams, that any moment he’d wake up. he smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the process, “i'm the luckiest person on the planet.”

“no, i am.”

suga chuckled, shaking his head. daichi was right, what was he so nervous for in the first place? especially when there’s no one else he’d rather wait for at the end of the aisle. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what would the hq characters be like at a wedding?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[hysydney]

A penchant for purple: part 3 (Series 3)

“Colours are light's suffering and joy.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

In part 1 and part 2 of this series, we saw the disruptive influence of purple as identified by Goethe in his treatise on colour, Zur Farbenlehre (Theory of Colour).  Goethe in his analyses did not bother with colour as a physical phenomenon to be dissected; on the contrary, his philosophy concentrates on how colour is sensed and interpreted by the eye then the mind.

Goethe, poet, dramatist, novelist, and philosopher, was motivated by his interest in painting, and describes, in some of the earliest published accounts, coloured shadows, after images and complementary colours. In contrast to Isaac Newton, he was not concerned with the physics of colour, analytic measurement and cold, hard mathematics.  He was concerned with colour harmony and ways of characterising how colours affect the viewer.

Philosophers and psychologists embraced Zur Farbenlehre; physicists rejected it. 

In theorising about the psychological impacts of colours, Goethe’s ‘chromatic’ wheel, as he termed it, illustrates also the opposition of colour as perceived by the human eye. 

Purple, the most powerful wavelength of the spectrum, sits, in Goethe’s colour wheel, on the divide between reddish-yellow (orange) and the reddish-blue (violet). It resolves the polarity between yellow and blue. 

from Theory of Colours, (1840), Plate I Figure 3 and ¶612

(Primary and secondary colours are depicted as triangles and complementary relationships are depicted as straight lines.)

It was Goethe who introduced the colour purple into his schemas, while Newton’s theory contained only spectral colours. Purple is still included in colour wheels today. 

Purple is the zenith of Goethe’s world of colours.

Its manifestations in MFMM are hugely varied and, with some poetic licence, extend from pale mauve satin, delicate lilac chiffon and soft lavender feathers, to deep, rich violet felts and noble purple itself in plush velvet.  Series 3 sees on-going glimpses as well as long, lingering gazes at its tonal palette.

First glimpse appears in Episode 1 of Series 3, Death Defying Feats, and in the awkwardness, then the more relaxed environment of the morning after the night before.  Phryne and Jack have had  a couple of dates defied by death and Daddy, and they are just coming to terms with his waking up in her bed.

Our colour de jour appears in the form of a soft lavender silk scarf that accompanies Phryne’s eggshell blue chinoise coat.  Having established what took place, they revert to collaborative detective-mode to interview the contortionist, her unravelled appearance complete with floral dress displaying bunches of violets:

The pale lilac-grey scarf then accompanies Phryne and Dot, then Phryne and Jack on investigations into the mysteriously misplaced mermaid Millie, with reflections of the blue-lavender in the trim of Phryne’s red cloche:

Mysterious Millie offers some purple accessories of her own:

Goethe appreciates that the sensation of complementarity does not originate physically from the actions of light on our eyes but perceptually from the actions of our brain - our visual system.

And in his system, it is green that has a complementary relationship to purple (just saying):

Episode 2, Murder and the Maiden

Just when we thought, after the Episode 1 date disasters, that things might start looking up, along comes Episode 2 and a pronounced purple patch.

Purple’s ability to both excite and then dampen delight appears in another piece of gorgeous chinoiserie, and no subtlety of colour this time. The black, midnight blue and purple silk has purple silk lining, trim and cuffs, and a purple cloche with silk embroidered floral motifs; Phryne’s earrings dangle purple appeal.

Despite some reminiscing and some subsequent remonstrating, the dashing detective duo collaborate to confound culprits (and captains):

Series 3, Episode 3 Murder and Mozzarella

For a scene with ‘a rival for Jack’s affection’ Phryne needs an outfit that ‘is sexy but incredibly elegant’ (MFMM Costume Exhibition catalogue). It is black beaded Chantilly lace over a purple silk under-slip.

Phryne’s visit is to find out, ostensibly, more about the feud between culinary families and involvement of the Camorra, but perhaps it is more than rival restaurants that incite the visit.

Concetta: You are a friend of Gianni's? Jack.  

Phryne: A friend, yes. And you? 

Concetta: Si. He tried very hard to find who killed my husband, but it is not easy. Since then he has dinner here many, many nights. 

Phryne: He must like the food.

And just to make sure we have this evening and the next day firmly established as significant, the next morning reinforces the purple theme, with perhaps one of the most telling scenes in relation to Phryne’s growing propriety of Jack:

Phryne: I didn't know you drank coffee, Jack. 

Jack: Would you like me to make a full confession? 

Phryne: No, thank you. I prefer a never-ending source of mystery.

Jack: Concetta, this is Miss Fisher. 

Concetta: Si. We talked last night. 

Jack: Did you now?

The rich purple velvet jacket with wide buttoned cuffs is teemed with a black straw hat and feathers of black, white and lavender and a long black and purple floral print scarf.  The coat could well be one we’ve seen previously in Raisins and Almonds and/or Juana, but without the fur collar.  But it continues tonally the link with Phryne’s dinner with Concetta.

The tonal link with Jack too is reinforced as they walk away from Strano’s, the red lining of their coats in step with their, well... step.

There’s some serious manoeuvring on both their parts as murder investigation and personal interest interplay in a truly delightful exchange of flirtatious banter:

Jack: So you came back to the restaurant last night. 

Phryne: I had a few questions for Concetta. 

Jack: Did you get the answers you were looking for? 

Phryne: Too early to say. When you say 'old friend', do you mean 'old friend' like Dr Mac, or 'old friend' like Captain Compton? 

Jack: Concetta Strano hasn't saved my life from a burning plane wreck in Madagascar, if that's what you mean.

Then a change of tone as concern for one another becomes serious:

Jack: I'm more concerned about you getting in too deep. 

Phryne: Who, me? 

Jack: Look, these people have been killing each other for generations... 

Phryne: I'll be careful. Promise me you'll be careful too. 

The plush purple and accoutrements head off to the docks for a shoot out:

Then a meeting with Mac in the morgue:

Mac: I have no doubt she was attacked, but that wasn't what killed her. 

Phryne: There were mushrooms in the dish she was preparing. 

Mac: That is where it gets interesting. I tested the contents. Those mushrooms were not poisonous. 

Phryne: So, she was killed by different mushrooms?

A slightly awkward interview with Guido:

And a return to the scene of the crime and a rather beautiful vignette in the restaurant garden with Marianna:

The colour seems to be significant in this episode in its presence in scenes that highlight both personal and professional ties.

So to the final coup d’oeil for the series in Game, Set and Murder,  Episode 8. Tennis is at the heart of this murderous mystery - literally!

Phryne wears a lilac silk chiffon scarf with yet another piece of chinoiserie, this time a smokey silver-blue jacket. Trim on the palest mauve-grey straw cloche echoes the scarf. 

Phryne’s old friendship with the Burrows is tested, as love of tennis becomes more than a game.  Constance loves tennis to the point of obsession and her adoring husband is prepared to support her ambition at any length.

In the scenes set in the gorgeous grounds of Ripponlea (Aunt P’s house again?) the lilac of the the scarf is reflected in the jacaranda in bloom behind the tennis courts. 

The detective duo are decidedly working as a mixed double - both on and off the court, despite a deuce of a difficulty or two or three: prying paparazzi, tempting tennis contestants, and arachnophobic interludes.

Final score - love all?

[littlemissnellie]

Day Eight: Cinderella

Rags to riches didn’t get any more literal than this. One day Ella was cooped up at home, sweeping floors and dusting mantles, the next her cheeks were being dusted with gold and she was being swept of her feet and right into the arms into the arms of her handsome prince. She had nothing, then suddenly she was given everything she could ever want in life and more. Clearly that fairy godmother her mother had always promised would be watching over her had finally worked her magic, and just when Ella had needed it most. No more dusting rags, no more soot-smudged cheeks and no more cruel jibes from her stepmother or stepsisters. She was free, swathed in powder blue chiffon and sparkling silver with a smile that never left her face. And why should it now that she had found her happily ever after? 

But as the kingdom rejoiced for their new princess, three faces couldn’t shift their frowns, no matter how much confetti was thrown in the streets or how many flowers were laid on the palace steps. Ella’s stepmother had never cared for her. She had pretended when her father was alive, yes. But the second his eyelids fell shut and the tears fell onto her stepdaughter’s cheeks, the warmth in her embrace disappeared and Ella was left in the care of nothing but a cold, hard pair of g. Love became a distant memory for her. Instead her days were filled with mopping (stains from the floors and tears from her eyes), scrubbing (creases from her stepsisters dresses and grime from her forehead) and sewing (mending tears in expensive blouses or her patchwork clothes, or even just trying to piece her life back together). But no matter how much dirt worked its way under her fingernails or matted its way into her hair, Ella’s heart stayed as pure as gold and the prince saw her for nothing less. 

Two hearts, purple and sore like fresh bruises, trampled through wild flowers in their step-sister’s elegant footsteps, eager to stumble upon the happy newlyweds and tear them back to reality. Anastasia’s coppery hair was a mess, wispy strands fell in front of her face whilst others were plastered to her face with sweat. Makeup was caked across her cheeks, but her blemishes still managed to peek through. Her mother always told her to relax more, but her permanent frustration bubbled beneath every facial she smeared over her complexion and pushed up spots just as angry as she was. Still, no zit was going to get in her way tonight, not when there were so many eligible rich boys at this wedding reception. Shocking fuchsia and spangly hoop earrings were bound to get her all the attention she wanted and more...so why had every guy she’d approached practically run for the hills? Luckily for her ego, her sister hadn’t had much more luck with these sons of millionaires.

Drizella, with her charcoal hair tumbling from its updo and charcoal eye makeup tumbling from her eyes in streaking tears, snivelled as she struggled to keep up. Tonight had been a nightmare, only worse for the poor girl. If her own reflection didn’t remind her of it enough, Anastasia’s bitter digs at how the dress she’d forced her to squeeze into created lumps she didn’t even know she had and made her look like the jolly green whale left her running for the door every time the opportunity arose. But alas, Anastasia was determined to hook both her and her sister up with two guys that had a bank account balance as handsome as their face. So she had been her sister’s rag doll to drag around by the arm all night. Blundering through the wood after her sister had hauled her away from the one conversation she’d actually enjoyed all evening, Drizella couldn’t contain her tears anymore. They poured from her eyes as her shoulders shook and ugly sobs wrenched from her throat.

“What is it now, Driz?!” Anastasia snapped. She had a crazed look in her tired eyes, like something behind them was on the brink of cracking. 

“I-”

“Oh god, pull yourself together!” she screamed as she turned to see her sister’s miserable, melted appearance. “We’re- we’re supposed to be getting engaged tonight, remember?! We’re getting our happy endings like Ella! If Ella can find love and be happy then so can we! We’re going to find love, Driz! We have to! We just-”

“Shut up! Just shut up, oh my god!” Drizella cried, hiding her face in her hands. She couldn’t bare to see her sister like this. She looked like a glorified monster, wild and desperate. 

“I am not having you ruin tonight for me,” Anastasia growled. Her voice trembled just as much as her sister did.

“Why not? You’ve already ruined it for me!” 

“I have done nothing but help you tonight! I have tried to get you with so many guys-”

“I don’t want your help! I can do things on my own! The one time you actually left me alone I met this really nice girl-”

“We were there to meet nice, rich boys, Driz-”

“Well, newsflash: all the boys there were assholes. So it doesn’t surprise me that you were so eager to throw yourself at every one who set foot in the-”

“At least I made an effort to talk to them.”

“I was perfectly happy talking to Natalie until you-”

“Stepped in and saved you?”

“I didn’t need or want saving! She was sweet and-”

“We are not talking about this now.”

“Yes we are! Natalie is the only person I’ve ever spoken to who has made me feel beautiful in my own skin. She saw me as someone I’ve never dared to think I am and oh my god did it feel good. You’ve done nothing but make me feel like shit for my weight and how I act and who I love, but I’m not putting up with it anymore, Ana. Not when I’ve seen how decent people can be. You’ve forced me to talk to airhead guys all night, you’ve forced me into this ridiculous dress to make you feel better about yourself and now you’ve dragged me through these woods for what? So that you can try to steal Ella’s spotlight like you’ve always stolen mine? I’m tired, my feet hurt and I want to go home. You can come with me or not, but don’t go thinking that an apology and a hug is going to make all this go away. Whether you come back with me or not, in the morning you’re no longer my sister. I’m done with this, with your crazy schemes, with you making me feel as ugly as your personality is. Don’t bother talking to me until you’ve sorted out your priorities. Maybe by then your heart will stop making you look like such a beast.”

And with that, Drizella turned and hobbled back along the path of trodden flowers, leaving a horrified Anastasia fighting back angry tears in her wake. She’d forced her sister into that dress, she’d forced her sister to go to that reception party and now she’d forced Drizella away, perhaps forever. Not only that, but she’d forced herself and her sister into pairs of Ella’s godforsaken, pearly heels. Crimson blood streaked their legs and soaked into the satin. Her feet throbbed; she hadn’t cared to look at the sizes, she just grabbed the last two pairs and wedged their feet in as their ride had pulled into the driveway. Drizella had protested, but once again she’d pushed her nonetheless because she was too focused on her own aim. And besides, what were a few blisters going to matter when they were whisked off by two handsome men? But that simply wasn’t the case and Anastasia had pushed her sister one step too far. Her wrinkled dress, sweaty face and burning feet suddenly all became too much for her to bear. She had left herself with no sisters, no boy to love and an appearance that was nothing like she had dreamed for herself when she was a little girl, gazing longingly at princesses in horse-drawn carriages or tall, winding towers. Both her sisters were off finding their happy endings, Ella playfully adored her new husband in every way she knew possible and Drizella was carving her own path through life to find true love for herself, yet here she was, with a heart so distraught it couldn’t even comprehend love if it tried. Happy endings just aren’t meant for everyone, it seems...

Drizella was right, she’d never felt more ugly in her life. 

cas challenge by @smallcowplant

[colordrifter]

OP Chapter 858

My first thought upon seeing the Jump cover was “Hey look, Luffy still has all his teeth when in color.”

So the Fishman Pirates are still around. They’ve been sympathetic towards the Straw Hats in the past, especially given Jinbe’s relationship with Luffy. I wonder how the cards will fall now that Luffy has decided to declare outright war against Big Mam.

Sanji’s still wearing his badass cloak. I APPROVE.

Ew, it’s the slimy tongue guy.

Wait, so Luffy’s the voice of reason here? The world must be ending. Also Chopper is adorable without his hat.

Awww, Lola’s loved by at least one of her family members.

“Lola became a zombie warthog” isn’t 100% accurate, but I’ll take it. Thriller Bark was one of my fave arcs so I love any and all references to it.

LOKI, PRINCE OF THE GIANT KINGDOM OF ELBAF. First off, wow, the Viking/Nordic vibe is still strong with those people. Second, Loki in any incarnation in any story has been a fascinating character, so I do hope he lives up to the name.

Poor Chiffon. Although we’ve already seen that Big Mam has no qualms about killing her own children when she’s on a hunger rampage, so it’s not too far of a stretch to imagine that she has no qualms about it in general. Maybe that’s why she had so many children to begin with? So she can replace the ones she murders?

Poor Brook really needs so milk to build those bones back up.

Luffy is still the voice of reason.

OMFG DID HE HAVE THAT MISSING TOOTH FOR SO LONG JUST TO FULFILL THIS GAG I’M SCREAMING.

Luffy your body legit does not work like that.

Careful, Chiffon. Bege is your family? Dude may not understand the concept even though he runs a mob (a literal Family).

Would be fun to compare and contrast with Doflamingo, who held the concept of family near and dear to his heart, but saw betrayal as the absolute dealbreaker.

A mafia meeting! Jingi-nai time has come to life. We’re just missing Zoro in a suit...

Is Don Luffione wearing a fedora on top of his straw hat? Sir I question your fashion sense.

Aaaaand there we have Sanji, cool as you please, casually using his life as a ultimatum in this negotiation.

Jinbe: “Luffy, what does your instinct tell you?” Jinbe is so excellent. He’s had Luffy’s number since day one.

I like the little scenes of Luffy being able to recognize someone in a mask, while Chopper still can’t. It’s a great throwback to Sogeking (who I sorely miss tbh), showing that maybe Luffy’s grown up a little.

Sanji is dead horrified by the idiotic company he voluntarily chooses to keep. Chopper has seen the error of his ways.

...and just when I thought Luffy had wised up a little. I guess this is one of the reasons I love him so as a character? He always keeps me guessing.

Luffy logic: “Sure we can team up. But you were a meanie to my sorta-friend so I get freebies to deck you at least once.”

Jinbe is Too Tired for this bullshit.

Ah, so Caesar is also supposedly a major player in this one? Hmm.

A thoroughly entertaining chapter. Luffy got his tooth back. I can rest now.