#Halls In Vaughan

[hazeltonmanor]

Choosing the Perfect Wedding Reception Halls for Your Special Day

Your wedding reception is one of the most important events in your life, and finding the perfect wedding reception halls is key to making the day unforgettable. The reception hall is where you, your family, and friends will gather to celebrate your love, so it’s important to choose a venue that reflects your style and meets all your needs. Here’s a guide to help you select the ideal wedding reception halls.

1. Capacity and Layout

One of the first things to consider when choosing a wedding reception hall is its capacity. The venue should be large enough to accommodate all your guests comfortably but not so large that it feels empty or impersonal. Many halls provide maximum capacity information, so be sure to confirm this before booking. Also, consider the layout of the hall. You’ll want to ensure that there’s enough space for a dining area, dance floor, and any other activities, like speeches or a photo booth, that you plan to include.

Additionally, ask about flexible seating arrangements and room customization. Being able to rearrange tables and seating to match your vision can greatly enhance the flow and feel of your event.

2. Location and Accessibility

The location of the wedding reception hall is another important factor. Ideally, it should be convenient for both you and your guests. If your wedding ceremony takes place in a different location, consider the travel time between the two venues. For out-of-town guests, it’s helpful to choose a reception hall that’s near hotels or accommodations. You may also want to look for a venue that offers ample parking or is accessible by public transportation. Ease of access ensures a smooth experience for everyone attending.

3. Style and Ambiance

The style of the wedding reception halls should align with the theme and aesthetic of your wedding. If you’re planning a formal, elegant wedding, look for venues with classic architecture, grand chandeliers, or luxurious décor. For more rustic or laid-back weddings, consider barns, gardens, or halls with a natural, minimalist design. It’s important to choose a venue that fits the vibe you’re trying to create. A beautiful space with the right ambiance can set the tone for the entire evening and enhance the overall experience.

4. Catering and Services

Some wedding reception halls offer in-house catering, while others may require you to bring in your own caterer. If food is a priority for your event, ask about the available catering options and the types of menus they provide. Many venues offer customized menus to suit different tastes and dietary needs. Additionally, consider other services that the venue provides, such as bartending, cake cutting, and waitstaff. The more services a venue offers, the easier it will be to plan your event, and the less you’ll need to coordinate on your own.

5. Amenities and Extras

Modern wedding reception halls often come equipped with a variety of amenities to enhance your event. Ask about things like sound systems, projectors, lighting options, and AV equipment. Having access to quality sound and lighting can make a big difference, especially for dancing, speeches, and entertainment. Some venues also offer bridal suites, coat checks, and valet services, adding an extra layer of convenience and luxury to your big day.

6. Budget

Your wedding budget will play a major role in selecting your wedding reception hall. While you may fall in love with a high-end venue, it’s important to ensure that the price aligns with your overall wedding budget. Reception hall costs can vary significantly depending on location, size, and services offered. Look for a venue that offers a balance between affordability and the features you need. Keep in mind that some venues may have additional fees for things like overtime, corkage, or setup, so be sure to ask about all potential costs upfront.

Conclusion

Choosing the perfect wedding reception halls is an exciting but important task. By considering factors like capacity, location, style, and budget, you can find a venue that matches your vision and ensures a seamless, memorable event. Whether you’re looking for a luxurious ballroom or a charming, rustic hall, the right reception venue will provide the backdrop for the celebration of a lifetime. Make sure to visit the hall in person, ask plenty of questions, and envision how the space will bring your wedding dreams to life. For more details visit our website: www.hazeltonmanor.com

[thedeafprophet]

Finished drawing my character designs/ line up of the Light Fingers Crew to formalize my drawing of them

Overview/ Design talk under the cut if anyone is interested in that sort of thing

For all the designs I used the art given for them in the game as a starting point and then went from there. For all but Hephaesta of course that means using a non character specific art. I also wanted all the colors to sort of fit together so where i would have done more vibrant stuff and i strayed away from that.

Clara and Her Sister

Putting the discussion for these two together, as their designs recieved similar thoughts because they are identical twins. ('She is wearing the Fading Music-Hall Singer's face, which seems rude.')

The basic art of the bohemian faction is used to depict the sisters.

So this was my basic starting point for the visual design. I ended up diving further into research into bohemian fashion, which of course lead to me reading up on the history of the term and the connection to the Romani people. According to wikipedia, the word comes from the french term 'bohémien', which was the word for the Romani people.

This of course put a complex spin when i looked into the clothing used in the time, as theres a question between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation, and one I don't have the full understanding for.

Nevertheless i did take some inspirtation for the clothing here, Clara with having her hair loose and down and looser clothing, the singer with the hair scarf and the necklace among some inspirations.

Inbetween the two I imagine the singers appearance to be more reserved then Clarabelle's. For one, my interpretation of the singer is as someone who uses her singing as a backdrop for sneaking and gathering information (per her role as a 'contact' of the player). The other being that we are told Clara's title is the 'eccentric opera singer' to me implies a grander sense of creatativity and wilder clothing. In less stressful times I imagine her wearing brighter clashing colours and skirts with patterns on them and jewlery (which i intend to draw at a later time when i get better at adding patterns to clothes lol).

We also know the two of them are 'not young' so i attempted to not make them appear so.

Hephaesta

Heph is of course the one character of the group with a personalized art, which i used as the base for my design.

Hephaesta is supposed to be a large figure, as she is a strongwoman, and is described as towering over even jasper and frank. So of course I had to make her tall compared to the others of the group.

And of course i can't go without bringing up Katie Sandwina (again), a real strongwomen of the time who serves as a great inspiration both in body type and height.

What a woman huh.

Dr Vaughan

The Campaigner template art was the one used to depict her when you first speak to her and was a starting point here.

To me i always pictured her as a fairly older women given her experience and amount of time she's been researching. Clearly someone with a lot of exprience. And also i just vibe with it.

I kept her outfit simple, as i dont figure her as someone to put too much into the latest fashion given her focus on her work. I took the green from the art to use as her skirt to tie in that colour. I also looked up some photos of female doctors of the time and that partially influenced my art direction here.

Obliging Silverer

I debated including him or not given that you only have him as part of the team if you use the light fingers exclusive option to access the parabolan basecamp. But given the fact that he literaly dies defending the camp, I think its only fair that he gets included.

i just had a bit of fun with the design as there wasnt too much to restrict off. I dont draw a lot of characters with mustaches depsite them being a thing of the time, so I figured this was a good excuse as any. I kept with some orange colours within his colour scheme for further callbacks to parabola and his work.

Also hey did you know that people of an ashkenazi background can also have red hair? Fun fact heh.

[lisamarie-vee]

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... sound of rebellion ...

Jimmie Vaughan with the 1951 Fender Broadcaster/Nocaster 'Jimbo' that he gave to his brother Stevie Ray Vaughan which would be his first guitar.

[mariocki]

Man in a Suitcase: Essay in Evil (1.8, ITC, 1967)

"I think we've been very clever. You've got to give us our due."

"What's so clever about killing people?"

"Getting away with it."

[davissmith8]

Elevating Celebrations: A Tapestry of Banquet Halls in Vaughan, Woodbridge, and Thornhill

In the heart of Ontario, where each city holds a unique cultural narrative, Vaughan, Woodbridge, and Thornhill boast an array of banquet halls that elevate celebrations to unparalleled heights. These vibrant communities are not just geographic locations; they are canvases where dreams are painted, and memories are etched in the grandeur of their banquet halls.

Banquet Halls in Vaughan: Grandeur Redefined

Vaughan, a city characterized by its cosmopolitan charm and cultural diversity, is home to banquet halls that redefine grandeur. These venues blend modern sophistication with classic elegance, offering a versatile Vaughan Wedding Venue, corporate events, and social galas. From the moment guests step into the meticulously designed ballrooms adorned with crystal chandeliers, they are immersed in an atmosphere of opulence. The sprawling spaces, coupled with top-notch services, make banquet halls in Vaughan the epitome of luxury and style.

Whether it's the sleek and contemporary design of modern venues or the timeless charm of more traditional spaces, Vaughan caters to a spectrum of tastes and preferences. Couples seeking a romantic ambiance for their wedding find themselves enchanted by the lush gardens and elegant interiors, while corporate events benefit from the seamless blend of professionalism and sophistication that these banquet halls offer.

Banquet Halls in Woodbridge: Opulent Ambiance

Woodbridge, with its enchanting landscapes and rich cultural tapestry, hosts banquet halls that exude opulence. The venues in this community are a harmonious blend of intricate architecture and lavish interiors, creating an ambiance that resonates with luxury. From intimate gatherings to grand celebrations, Vaughan Banquet Halls are crafted to provide an exceptional experience. The lush surroundings and attention to detail make each event in Woodbridge a testament to refined taste and an appreciation for the finer things in life.

Woodbridge's banquet halls often feature opulent touches such as crystal-draped chandeliers, luxurious fabrics, and spacious outdoor areas for guests to enjoy. This attention to detail not only enhances the visual appeal but also contributes to an overall atmosphere of sophistication. Events hosted in Woodbridge are not just occasions; they are immersive experiences where every element is curated to perfection.

Banquet Halls in Thornhill: Timeless Beauty

Thornhill, known for its historic charm and scenic beauty, houses Banquet Hall Vaughan that embody timeless beauty. These venues seamlessly blend modern amenities with classic aesthetics, resulting in spaces that transcend the boundaries of eras. The banquet halls in Thornhill are often characterized by manicured gardens, elegant banquet rooms, and a commitment to personalized services. Here, every celebration becomes an ode to romance, sophistication, and the enduring allure of timeless beauty.

Thornhill's banquet halls provide a picturesque setting for events, with many featuring expansive gardens or outdoor spaces. The combination of classic architecture and modern conveniences creates an ambiance that appeals to those seeking a perfect blend of tradition and contemporary flair. Whether it's a wedding ceremony surrounded by blooming flowers or a corporate event in a stately banquet room, Thornhill's venues offer a timeless backdrop.

Choosing the Perfect Venue: A Personalized Experience

Selecting a banquet hall in Vaughan, Woodbridge, or Thornhill is more than a choice; it's a personalized experience. Each venue offers a distinctive ambiance and amenities, providing hosts with the flexibility to curate an event that aligns seamlessly with their vision. From themed decor to customized menus, banquet halls in these communities pride themselves on versatility, ensuring that every celebration is a reflection of the hosts' individual style and preferences.

Banquet halls in these communities are not just event spaces; they are partners in crafting unforgettable moments. They offer a range of options and services to cater to diverse needs, making the process of choosing a venue a collaborative and exciting journey. The ability to customize the experience ensures that each celebration is unique, leaving a lasting imprint on the memories of hosts and guests alike.

[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Six

Fenrys x F!Reader

Summary- After their last encounter, Fenrys and Y/n find it difficult to pretend like everything is normal. It’s even harder with certain royals sniffing out their business.

Warnings- This is a long one, Angsty, and I mean it this time

Series Masterlist

Part Six

Fenrys counted his dwindling luck for dinner being a somewhat private affair, he didn’t think he’d survive Hasar sniffing about the fractured relationship between him and Y/n.

Instead of the large dining hall where most in the palace would be eating, Sartaq had invited them into the couple’s private dining room, a vast meal prepared for them.

Fenrys assumed the servants attending them where under Sartaq’s thumb, but he wouldn’t be surprised if his siblings had at least one or two hiding amongst them. Ready to report back to their respective prince or princess about Fenrys and Y/n, taking in every word, every movement.

No doubt his friends noticed for themselves the way Y/n avoided his eyes like the plague, noticed the way he sat rigid in his seat beside her, they at least had the decency to keep their observations to themselves.

They made easy conversation with Fenrys mostly, letting Y/n casually observe, keep to herself like she usually did. It was well into the meal before anyone spoke to her directly.

“How did Fenrys here rope you into his little adventure?” Sartaq asked, his brows raised curiously at Y/n.

Y/n casually sipped from her wine glass, her expression carefully guarded, “We happen to be looking for the same person.”

“Vaughan?” Nesryn looked to Fenrys for confirmation.

“Her brother,” Fenrys supplied, turning back to his third glass, “Apparently I’m not the only one he’s running from.”

He felt more than saw Y/n go still, he hadn’t spoken to her since their moment in the hall, since she’d hissed her warning at him, do not touch me. The words had felt like the final swing of an executioner’s axe.

“Funny,” Nesryn hummed, “How the strings of fate pull people together like that.”

“She surely has a strange sense of humor,” Y/n says quietly.

Sartaq was carefully glancing between them and Fenrys was tempted to tell him to mind his own damn business. He apparently collected busybody friends though, as the prince gave him a knowing look, one that said, we will be speaking of this later. Fenrys only narrowed his eyes at him, warning the prince to leave well enough alone.

“Fenrys mentioned he’d gotten a tip that your brother had stowed away on a ship meant for my father,” Sartaq said, “I assume the tip came from you?”

Y/n nods, “I believe he’s here, hopefully still in Antica, he would’ve only been a few days ahead of us.”

“I’ve got eyes and ears throughout the city, if he is, surely someone will spot him,” Sartaq says, “You will find him.”

“Thank you,” Y/n says softly, the smallest crack in the mask of indifference, bowing her head to the prince.

“Of course,” Sartaq smiles, “Anything for a friend.”

Fenrys couldn’t read her reaction to that, she closed him out to well. He knew there was something about this place, about his friends, that had unnerved her, what it was, he didn’t know. Gods knew she wouldn’t tell him now.

“So, Y/n,” Nesryn spoke after a moment of silence, “Have you ever been to Antica before?”

“No, I haven’t,” Y/n said simply.

Fenrys rolled his eyes at the short answer, stabbing his fork into a poor unsuspecting piece of fruit. He caught her eyes shift to him, to his hand curled tightly around his silverware.

“It is a beautiful city,” Nesryn ignored the slight disrespect, “If you cared for a tour, I’d be happy to give you one.”

“This one acts like she’s melting the second she walks out the door,” Fenrys scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m sure she’d rather hide away inside.”

Y/n glared at him, turning back to Nesryn, “I’d appreciate that a lot actually.”

Nesryn smiled, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief, “We’ll go first thing in the morning before it gets to warm.”

“Perfect.”

The city truly was beautiful, the Gods City, Nesryn had told her as they walked. The crowds were thick as they strolled through the streets, full of hawking vendors and haggling shoppers, children ran through them, laughing without a care in the world.

“You can find a shop for nearly anything you can dream of,” Nesryn says, smiling at a group of starry eyed kids, “Wares from all over the world.”

She could see that, there were clothes she recognized from back home, and things she’d never seen before. Jewels, cloth, foods, spices, so much of the world she hadn’t seen, all in one place.

“It’s amazing,” Y/n said, “If it wasn’t so miserably hot I’d consider living here.”

Even this early in the morning, the sun barely peaking over the horizon, it was hot, and growing warmer by the second. Y/n was grateful she’d brought her little wooden fan with her.

Nesryn laughed, “Fenrys wasn’t joking, was he?”

“Where I grew up, the snow barely melted for a few months before it started again,” Y/n says, gently fanning herself, “I’m not built for the heat.”

“No it would seem not,” Nesryn chuckled, “You’d do well with the Rukhin in the Tavan mountains.”

“My brother told me stories of the aerial legions when I was growing up,” Y/n laughed, “I think he was jealous of the Ruks themselves. As large as his osprey is, he’s nowhere near their size.”

“Perhaps he may make his way there,” Nesryn ponders, “See for himself just how magnificent they are. I’ll send word to Borte to keep an eye out for a suspicious bird flying around.”

She could imagine it, from what she knew, the Tavan mountains where much like home, though taller and perhaps even colder. Maybe her brother would go there, find somewhere that reminded him of the place he thought he no longer belonged.

Y/n still remembers that last night vividly, even this many years later. It was stupid, so stupid how it began, how it ended. She’d been so afraid, so upset, and as she always did, she lashed out in anger, like a cornered feral animal.

If you leave now, never, ever come back.

I’m sorry, Y/n, truly. The image of her brother walking away flashed in her mind, walking into the snow covered forest beyond their home. For a moment, his dark form turned golden, and when he glanced behind him, onyx eyes met her own.

“If we go this way.” Nesryn turned a corner, her words breaking Y/n out of her mind, “We could stop by the Torre and-“

“No,” Y/n interrupts, her eyes instantly finding the magnificent white stone tower, “No, thank you, I’ve seen it plenty from the streets.”

If Nesryn found her reluctance odd, she didn’t mention it, only smiled and turned down another path. Y/n nearly sighed in relief, turning her back on that looming structure.

They walked through the city, slowly moving through the markets and towards that glorious palace. Y/n found her self caught between relief and dread, relief from the overwhelming sun, and dread of the golden male she’d been able to avoid this morning.

Either he’d let her slip out her door and past his own, just as eager to avoid her as she did him, or he’d still been asleep with a surely awful hangover from his night spent with his friends. It was well past midnight when she’d heard him stumble down the hall and into his room.

There had been a moment where he’d paused, perhaps staring at her door, wondering if she was awake, if he should knock, he didn’t. She’d sighed in relief, but there was the briefest feeling of disappointment.

Nesryn kept her face forward, but Y/n felt the weight of her eyes anyways, “If you don’t mind me prying, there seemed to be some, tension, at dinner last night.”

Y/n was surprised the woman had lasted this long before mentioning it, something told her Nesryn’s eyes did not miss much. From the stories Fenrys told of her, she didn’t miss anything, her mind as sharp as her arrows.

“There was,” Y/n nods, “Nothing to be concerned about.”

The woman simply hummed, “Fenrys said the same thing to Sartaq after you left for bed.”

She’d left as soon as she could, being that close to Fenrys for so long had made her anxious, like he’d reach over and touch her again, and she’d ignite, burning everything, everyone in her path, worst of all, she’d burn him.

“In the time I’ve known him,” Nesryn says when Y/n doesn’t respond, “Which, granted, hasn’t been much more than a year now, Fenrys has been struggling. He doesn’t like to show it, but we knew, we all went through hell during the war, we all fought like hell to drag ourselves back to the light. I don’t believe he has gotten there yet, I don’t know if he ever will.”

Y/n remembers his dream, the one that had shaken him so badly that he could hardly speak to her. He’d lost his brother, the other half of his soul, watched his friend, his queen, tortured, had nearly died himself. Those days still haunted him, no matter how much he pretended they didn’t.

“When you two arrived yesterday,” Nesryn continued, “It was the closest I’d seen him to that light.”

Fenrys felt like he was being interrogated, only he wasn’t tied to a rickety chair, no tools of torture laid out, only a plush sofa and a glass of the strongest liquor the palace had to offer in his hand.

“How old is she?” Hasar was perched on the edge of the loveseat across from him, sweet Renia smiling at him over the rim of her own glass, “Is she-“

“My gods,” Fenrys groaned, “I’m sure they will be back soon, you can grill her yourself then.”

The woman’s eyes were lit with their usual fire, if only she’d been fae, she may have had fire to rival Aelin’s. She’d been at it since the moment Fenrys had finally emerged from his room, one of her own servants waiting to drag him to the very seat he sat in now.

“It’s not every day someone surprises me with a guest I know nothing about,” Hasar snarked, “Not to mention a fae, does she have any powers we should be concerned about.”

Fenrys groaned again, “She shifts into a damned cat, unless you worry about hair on your clothes, I think you should be fine.”

“Oh? Is that where all this brooding comes from?” She smirks, “Did she get hair all over your favorite cloak?”

Fenrys only glared at the woman instead of answering. That seemed to be a mistake, he could practically see the wheels turning in her mind, the dots connecting. Renia beside her only smiled at her wife, throwing Fenrys a sympathetic glance, it would seem he had no allies here.

“Trouble in paradise?” Hasar cooed, “Awe, did the kitty reject you pup?”

He held back his snarling and snapping, it would only prove her right. Instead, Fenrys took a long drink from his glass, finishing off the burning liquid.

“At least tell me how you found the girl,” Hasar continued.

“More like I found him.”

His heart lept in his chest, from the wide eyes of the princess and her wife across from him, he was sure theirs had as well.

Y/n had snuck up on them all, silent as ever, Nesryn nowhere to be found. One would think that someone would have seen her in the vast open room, but the female seemed to have a way of moving through the world unseen.

Maybe she had magic similar to his own, jumping through the world in the blink of an eye. He hadn’t seen any powers from her, only her other form, maybe her ability was in the way she moved, that feline grace.

“You must be Y/n,” Hasar said, her razor sharp focus finally leaving Fenrys to lock on to the famale, “Please sit.”

Y/n held the princess’s gaze, her own stare piercing, like the keen eyes of the cat that had stalked him for days in that little Wendlyn village. She circled the small couch, sitting directly next to him, close enough for him to feel the heat of the day still lingering on her.

“You must be Hasar,” Y/n said, voice flat and even, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, princess.”

Nesryn must have done the female a kindness and prepared her for the onslaught of the royal family. Y/n didn’t balk from Hasar’s intense gaze, she met it head on, and she even smiled sweetly at the princess’s wife.

“And you must be Renia,” Y/n nods her head to the woman.

“The pleasure is all ours,” Renia says, placing a hand on her wife’s knee, “Fenrys here was just telling us about where you grew up.”

He hadn’t been, she may be sweet compared to her wife, but Renia was just as cunning.

“Oh?”

Y/n looked at him then, the first time she’d truly met his gaze since the moment in the hall.

Do. Not. Touch. Me.

He didn’t see any of that rage, didn’t see much of anything really, she was carefully blank, hiding beneath a mask.

“He was telling us about your mother,” Hasar continued.

If he hadn’t been looking so closely he might have missed the flicker of emotion, pain he realized quickly, something he recognized all to well.

“Was he now,” Y/n said softly, “I hadn’t realized I’d told him anything about her.”

She really hadn’t told him much of her home, much of anything about her, he realized.

“Stories from Vaughan, I’m sure,” Hasar responded easily, a skilled liar.

Y/n hums, “Strange, he hasn’t spoken much of her since she died.”

A silence fell over them all.

Fenrys definitely hadn’t known that, the few things she’d told him was about her brother, gods knew Vaughan never talked about his family.

He’d known her father had been a sore spot for her, she’d shut down any mention of the male the first night they’d spent together, he hadn’t pushed the subject after that.

“I’m sorry,” Renia said at last, apologizing for the loss and for the prying.

Y/n waved it off, “No need, I was a little girl when it happened, I barely even remember it.”

A lie, he could hear it clear as day, he wondered if it was so obvious to the women across from them. Perhaps not, as they swiftly moved on, asking Y/n all the questions they’d been pestering Fenrys for.

How old was she? Only a few years younger than Fenrys. What was her home like? Cold and boring. How’d she find Fenrys? Tracked him down in her cat form.

“Why do you shift into a cat?” Hasar asked, her brow raised, “I hear Vaughan is an osprey.”

Fenrys was ready for the cool dismissal he’d received when he’d asked.

“My father was a writer from Terrasen,” Y/n said simply, “A small, insignificant family from the Oakwald that had only a few shifters among them, they took the forms of the wild forrest cats that hunted through the woods.”

Fenrys turned to her, his brows raised in shock. She was already looking at him, her expression seemingly relaxed, unbothered by the admission, but Fenrys saw through it. The crack in her mask, pain, self doubt, fear.

“Did your tour with Nesryn give you any ideas about where your brother slipped off to?”

Fenrys asked the first question that came to his mind, anything to change the subject, something he’d already been wondering since she’d snuck out of her rooms early that morning.

Her eyes flashed with gratitude, “Maybe, I know my eye was caught by the multitudes of markets, I’m sure his was as well.”

“Does he care for shopping?” Hasar asked over the rim of her glass, her eyes narrowed.

The princess knew he’d changed the subject, now she’d be relentless in figuring out why.

“Gods no,” Y/n scoffed, “Quite the opposite really, he’s not very fond of crowds.”

She had a lot in common with her brother it seemed. The few times they’d been in crowded places, Fenrys always caught her scanning the streets, he’d assumed she was just observing, perhaps she’d simply been uncomfortable.

“There are very few places in Antica that aren’t crowded,” Fenrys said.

“Maybe that’s where you’ll find him,” Renia chimes in.

Fenrys saw the hope fill her eyes as she echoed the word, “Maybe.”

Someone was knocking on his door.

The light tapping was barely enough to pull Fenrys from sleep, almost completely drowned out by the trickling water of a fountain somewhere beyond his open window.

Based on the moonlight shining through the room, it was still early in the night, dawn far off.

The knocking was a quick, soft pattern, stopping for a moment before hesitantly trying again. He was surprised it even woke him, he’d passed out as soon as he’d fallen into bed, so exhausted from his lone search through the city earlier that evening, Vaughan still nowhere to be found.

Fenrys threw off the light sheets, searching the floor for his discarded clothes to at least slip on his pants.

By the time he reached the door, the taps had stopped completely, maybe the person had given up, assumed he was fast asleep. He still reached for the handle, still gently pulled the door open.

Her fist was raised as if she was about to try a knock one last time, frozen, staring at him with wide eyes like Y/n hadn’t expected him to be there at all. Those eyes fell, for only a moment, enough to tell him she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, only clothed by the pants he’d been wearing at dinner.

His own eyes dipped involuntarily, and he cursed the faceless servant who had, no doubt laid out the gown for her. The pale blue silk and lace looked nearly silver in the moonlight, cascading down her body, stopping high on her thighs.

“I didn’t think you’d be awake,” she whispered, eyes shining with self doubt.

“Are you okay?” He kept his voice low, kept his eyes on her own.

Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, “Can I come in?”

Fenrys stepped back, opening the door wider for her. She walked in, passing close enough to him that he scented the lavender oil on her skin.

He took a deep breath as he closed the door, turning to find her standing in the center of his room, arms still wrapped tightly around herself as she looked around the room. Her eyes locking on his rumpled bed sheets, his clothes littering the floor.

“Y/n,” he kept his voice soft, stepping closer to her, “Kitten, are you alright?”

She whirled to him, as if remembering he was still there, “I had- I’m sorry, you were sleeping, I- I’ll go.”

She tried to slip past him, but Fenrys caught her, his hand gently wrapped around her arm.

Do. Not. Touch. Me.

The words echoed in his mind but he held on, tethered her to him. She was completely frozen, staring at that hand on her bicep like it was the strangest thing she’d ever seen.

“Talk to me,” Fenrys pleads, “What’s going on.”

Her gaze found his, wide and terrified. Fenrys felt his heart shatter, felt the tears that welled up in her eyes like a knife to his gut, felt her trembling beneath his palm. He couldn’t help himself, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to his chest, despite those four words screaming through his head.

She didn’t sob, but he could feel her violently shaking, like she was desperately holding the tears back. She clung to him, her nails digging into his flesh, it hurt but Fenrys didn’t care, he just held her tighter.

It took several long minutes for her to calm down, to stop shaking, to relax her grip. Fenrys found himself reluctant to let her pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, staring down at the floor between them.

He couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out, his fingers catching beneath her chin to gently tilt her face towards his. Her eyes were red and tired, full of whatever anguish had drug her from sleep and into his arms.

“Talk to me,” he pleads, his hand moving to her cheek, his thumb brushing away stray tears.

Her eyes shuttered, he wasn’t sure if it was from his words, or his touch.

Do. Not. Touch. Me.

“I had a nightmare,” she whispers after a moment, “I- I didn’t mean to come here, I-“

Her voice cracked and she paused to take a deep, steadying breath. She didnt pull away, and neither did he.

“I’m sorry I- just didn’t want to be alone,” she continues, “I don’t want to be alone, anymore.”

“Okay,” Fenrys says, still caressing the side of her face, “You’re okay. I’ve got you, kitten, you’re not alone.”

Like the words finally unlocked something in her, unlocked the chained up gates of the walls around her mind, Fenrys saw it all wash over her. The anguish, the fear, the gratitude, all on display like she was a book ready to be read by him.

“Do you remember that first night one the boat?” Her words we’re hesitant, like she was fighting to get them out.

“Yes,” Fenrys said gently, “You couldn’t sleep.”

He’d teased her for it, assuming the rocking of the ship was to blame, he’d seen the strongest warriors crumble to seasickness.

“The water brought back memories,” she says, her eyes gaining this far off look, “I knew they would bring the dreams with them.”

Not just dreams, Fenrys knew, nightmares, like the one she’d had tonight. The one that had her racing into his arms despite how much she loathed him.

Fenrys felt the moment she started shaking again, her mind already deep into the past and the pain. His hand dropped from her cheek, catching her hand by her side to gently guide her to the sitting room. She numbly let him, sitting down on the golden fainting couch.

Fenrys sat down beside her, a healthy distance between them, “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m here to listen if you do.”

She’d done as much for him, silently supporting him while he struggled through the words.

She was silent for a moment, still staring off into the past. Fenrys was almost sure she wouldn’t speak at all, until she did.

“Vaughan’s father was is Maeve’s army,” she said, catching Fenrys off guard, “When Vaughan was old enough, he was forced to join, forced to leave our mother alone in that tiny, frozen village, with only his letters to keep her company.”

“For three hundred years, they left her, alone.” Her voice cracked on the word, like it was choking her, “Until he showed up, a traveler from Terrasen, a writer, collecting stories from every corner of the world to bring home to the libraries of Orynth, to become a scholar.”

Fenrys knew where this was going, this was her story, the very beginning.

“My mother fell for him, enough to finally give up the dream of seeing her husband and son again, and he fell for her, enough to stay.” Her eyes shone with fresh tears, “I was born not even a year later, the spitting image of my father.”

Those tears fell and Fenrys desperately wanted to reach for them, wipe them away. He didn’t want to overstep, he’d already done more than he should have.

“I was five when it happened,” she whispered the words, “We had a small lake behind our cabin, it was frozen over for a majority of the year, I spent nearly every day on that ice, my father teaching me to skate, my mother teaching me to dance. I was there when I saw a male, larger than any I’d ever seen, coming from my home.”

“I didn’t know what was happening. Didn’t know who he was, why he was marching towards me, what the dripping red object was in his hand.” Her voice shook, and Fenrys felt dread rise up in his chest, “I didn’t know that I should have ran, should’ve shifted and left as quickly as I could, he was already before me when I figured out the red object was an axe, and it smelled like my parents.”

His heart shattered in his chest.

“He grabbed me before I could run,” the fear was thick in her voice, “Threw me across the lake, till I was at the thin center of it. The ice cracked beneath him as he followed, it shattered beneath his bloody axe as he opened a wide hole, it cut me as he shoved my body into the freezing water.”

Gods, holy fucking gods.

“He held me below the surface, I remember the feeling of his hand on the back of my head, I remember clawing at him, I remember darkness, I remember the ice in my lungs.” Her tears flowed fast, “And then there was light, air, someone hauling me out of the water. I’d never met him but my mother had told me many stories of my brother, I knew who he was instantly, he held me as he brought us back to shore, told me it was going to be alright, told me it was over, told me his father would never hurt me again. Over his shoulder I saw the male laying on the ice, a sword through his gut.”

Vaughan had killed him, he’d killed his own father after the male had killed his mother and nearly drowned the sister he hadn’t known he’d had.

She’d nearly drowned, had nearly been murdered by a male simply for existing. A child, gods she was only a child, and he’d tried to kill her.

Fenrys saw red for the male who’d long since fallen, for the male who haunted her dreams so many years later. His hands clenched in his lap, torn between swinging at the ghost of the male, and reaching out to hold her, to comfort her.

She looks exhausted, leaning heavily on the back of the couch. Her eyes swollen from the tears and the lack of sleep. Fenrys didn’t even try to stop himself, his arms moving forward to scoop her up, cradling her to his chest.

Y/n didn’t fight him as he walked her to his bed, as he laid her down atop it. Her eyes fought to stay open, to look at him as he pulled the sheets over her, her mouth open like she’d finally protest.

“Hush,” he says, “It’s alright, you’re alright, just get some sleep.”

Fenrys steps back, he’d sleep on the couch, it was big enough for him, even if it wasn’t, he’d slept in much worse conditions.

“Fenrys,” she says softly, he turns back to look at her, “I don’t- I don’t want to be alone.”

He looked at the large bed, the spot beside her. Do. Not. Touch. Me. The words were at odds with what she asked for now, completely, utterly confusing, but he could not deny her, not now, possibly not ever.

“You’re not alone, kitten,” he promised, reaching out to trail his fingers across her cheek, “Never again.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep.

Fenrys stayed there for a long time, watching over her, looking for any sign of another nightmare. He only allowed himself to rest when he was sure she was alright.

Tag List

@emma-andrea1 , @mgchaser , @anxious-study , @lees-chaotic-brain , @girl-math-aint-mathing , @mali22 , @nikt-wazny-y , @theworthlessqueen , @cynthiesjmxazrielslover , @lethargicluv

[evan-collins90]

Various mall selections from the book, ‘Shopping Centers & Malls 2′ (1988)

1. Galleria at Erieview - Cleveland OH (Oct. 1987) - designed by Kober/Belluschi Associates

2. Galtier Plaza - St. Paul, Minnesota (Nov. 1985) - designed by Miller Hanson Westerbeck Bell 

3 & 5. Montclair Plaza - Montclair, CA (1985) - designed by The Jerde Partnership 

4. Pompano Square Mall - Pompano Beach, FL (1985-86) - designed by Walker Group/CNI

6. The Halle Building - Cleveland, OH (1986) - designed by Cope Linder Associates with Steven Cohen and Associates

7. Valley River Center - Eugene, OR (1986) - designed by Kober/Sclater Associates

8. The Mall at Mill Creek - Secaucus, NJ (1986) - designed by Gerard F. Santucci, Hartz Mountain Industries. 

9. The Promenade - Vaughan, ON (1986) - designed by RTKL Associates/Crang & Boake

10. Town Center at Boca Raton - Boca Raton, FL (Oct. 1986) - designed by RTKL Associates

[hazeltonmanor]

Elegant Banquet Halls in Vaughan for Unforgettable Events

Experience the charm and sophistication of banquet halls in Vaughan, designed to host a variety of events from weddings to corporate gatherings. Our venues offer spacious layouts, modern amenities, and customizable decor options to suit your unique vision. With exceptional service and attention to detail, we ensure every moment is memorable. Whether you're planning an intimate celebration or a grand affair, Vaughan's banquet halls provide the perfect backdrop for your special occasion. For more details visit our website: www.hazeltonmanor.com

[thedeafprophet]

Also I do think it's somewhat amusing of the LFs crew, it's my trans guy oc next to a group full of a women who gets Really Into being a parent

[lisamarie-vee]

[leiawritesstories]

Naughty Chef

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 4: Accidental Nude @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content/slightly NSFW

Surprise! Another episode of Chef Rowan! Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“42 up, 43 up, 51 in two minutes, and—what do you want, Moonie?” Wiping the rolled-up sleeve of his white chef’s jacket across his sweaty, flushed face, Rowan shot a sharp look at Fenrys, who had appeared out of nowhere in the expo window. “Hurry the hell up, we’re buried in tickets.” 

“I know.” Fen cleared his throat. “Just stopping by to check on the 86 list and give expo another set of hands.” 

Rowan glanced at the scribbled notes on the back of a guest check that was tucked into his side of the expo window. “We’re down to three halibut all day and one of the prep cooks said the mushrooms were slimy, so no stroganoff besides what we have in the fridge. That’s all for now.” 

“Fen, I need a comp on table 52!” Dorian, one of the servers, hurried around the corner. “You got a minute?” 

“Go on, boss man.” Rowan waved an empty frying pan at Fenrys as the blonde man left the expo hall. “Lor, where the fuck is that ribeye for 51?” 

“Don’t fuckin’ rush me, asshole!” Lorcan yelled from his station. Rowan chuckled and turned back to the orders he was working on, knowing Lorcan’s surliness was his way of showing affection. The two of them had been working for long enough to know each other’s cooking times and moods, and every so often he liked to needle the grumpy man in the middle of dinner service just to get a reaction. 

The music pumping from the speakers abruptly paused, and the voice on Rowan’s phone—it was his turn to pick the music—announced a message from Aelin. “Fireheart sent you a photo. Would you like to open it?” 

“No,” Rowan called, and the music started back up. He’d check his phone as soon as he was done with this ticket, because he didn’t want to miss a single photo or text about his precious angel baby girl, and Aelin frequently sent him Lana updates while he was at work. 

Lorcan snickered. “Aww, is Daddy Chef anxious about his wittle girwie?” 

“Asshole.” Rowan finished plating up the shrimp skewers he’d been grilling, slid the plate across the expo window, and threw a wadded-up rag at Lorcan’s ass. “Give me five, I’m gonna go check what Aelin said. You want music, Lor?” 

“Want me to play you a lullaby?” 

“Hey, Vaughan!” The chef down at the cold line looked up, brows raised in question. “How about you run the music while I duck into my office for a minute? Lorcan decided to be a dickwad.”

“When is he ever anything but a dickwad?” Vaughan pulled out his phone and connected to the Bluetooth speakers. “Go on and cry over your baby, Chef.” 

“All of you are dicks,” Rowan grumbled, affectionately. He left the kitchen, walked past the dishwashing station in the back, and pushed open the green-painted door of his office. Technically, he shared it with Lorcan, but his co-executive chef had once walked in on him cooing and blowing kisses to his baby daughter over the phone and declared that the office was ruined and he never wanted to step foot in it again. 

Taking a seat in the worn leather swivel chair, Rowan pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his texts. He tapped on Aelin’s name, which was the top of his list, and opened the photo she’d sent him a few minutes ago. 

And his heart fucking stopped. 

Eyes the size of dinner plates, jaw nearly on the floor, and all of his systems short-circuiting, Rowan gaped at the picture on his phone, desperately trying to control the sudden rush of his blood directly to his groin. Because the picture was not Lana, but Aelin. Aelin, who was standing in front of her full-length mirror wearing tiny, nearly sheer scraps of flimsy lace, the pieces so tiny that he couldn’t tell what color they were from the photo. Aelin, whose artfully tousled wavy hair and smoky eye makeup and bold red lipstick made a forest fire erupt in his blood. 

>>what do you think of this for tonight?

<<You’re fucking stunning, Fireheart.

Seconds later, gray dots pulsed as Aelin responded. 

>>oh my gods

>>i’m so sorry!!!

>>that was supposed to go to the girls chat

>>oh my gods

<<You send…those pictures to the girls chat?! Aelin, you’re naked! It was irrational, he knew, to expect his fiancée not to ask her close friends about her outfits, but he was hard in his office and he wanted that photo only for himself. 

>>yes, you hovering buzzard. who else would give me honest opinions?

<<Me

>>love, you like everything i wear

>>it’s not a complaint, but i do want to surprise you sometimes

<<Naughty girl

<<You’d better be wearing that when I get home tonight. That, and nothing else.

>>ro, we have a baby…

<<We’re gonna have two babies if you keep getting new lingerie, baby. I want to see it when I get home. On you, then on the floor. 

>>hmm, sounds like someone’s a little worked up. He could practically hear the smirk in his fiancée’s voice. Instinctively, he locked the door, stood up, and angled the cheap mirror that was propped against the far wall. She wanted to tease him with photos of her looking absolutely sinful while he was at work? He’d give her something to think about, too. 

Rowan unbuttoned his jacket, revealing his bare, tattooed skin, and unzipped his pants. Shoving a hand into his boxers, he wrapped a fist around himself and faced the mirror, turning slightly to emphasize the rock-hard bulge. Before he could think better, he turned his flash on and snapped the photo, the bright light illuminating the gloomy space of the office and casting the angles of his figure into light and shadow. He sent it, turned his phone back to Do Not Disturb, shoved it in his pocket, left the office, and made a beeline for the staff bathroom. 

Several minutes later, he emerged more composed, straightened his chef’s jacket, and headed back to the kitchen. He nodded his thanks at Nico, the sous chef, who had taken over his station while he was…on break. Lorcan shot him a knowing smirk, wiggling his dark brows suggestively, and Rowan flipped him off, turning his attention back to the flood of tickets pouring off the printer. 

It was almost eleven o’clock by the time he clocked out and left through the back door, tiredly driving home through quiet streets. He unbuttoned his jacket as he walked up the steps to his house, and pushed through the front door. Inside, he carefully stepped out of his shoes and left them on the shoe rack before heading down the hall towards the bedroom. 

Where his fiancée was waiting, sprawled on their bed wearing barely more than a smirk.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[jazzplusplus]

1948 - Sarah Vaughan, Illinois Jacquet and his Orchestra - Carnegie Hall, New York

[vintage-every-day]

After a December concert at Carnegie Hall in New York City, musician Sarah Vaughan takes to the piano with Duke Ellington and Billy Eckstine, 1951.

[world-of-wales]

─ •✧ CATHERINE'S YEAR IN REVIEW : FEBRUARY ✧• ─

1 FEBRUARY - Catherine appeared in a video for Shaping Us Campaign.

2 FEBRUARY - Catherine appeared in a video with Roman Kemp as part of the Shaping Us Campaign.

4 FEBRUARY - Kensington Palace released a childhood photo of Catherine with Michael Middleton for the Shaping Us Campaign.

5 FEBRUARY - She visited St. John's Primary School to mark the start of Children's Mental Health Week 2023.

8 FEBRUARY - Catherine was received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Derbyshire (Mrs. Elizabeth Fothergill) as she visited Landau Forte College along with Captain Harpreet Chandi.

9 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Cornwall (Colonel Edward Bolitho) at the National Maritime Museum Falmouth in Discovery Quay. Afterwards, they visited the Dracaena Centre.

19 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William attended the British Academy Film Awards at the Royal Festival Hall where and were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Greater London (Sir Kenneth Olisa).

21 FEBRUARY - She was received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of the Royal County of Berkshire (Mr. James Puxley) at the Oxford House Nursing Home in Slough.

22 FEBRUARY - Catherine held an Early Years Meeting.

23 FEBRUARY - Catherine received Mr. Ian Hewitt (Chairman, AELTCC ) at Windsor Castle. Subsequently, she received Major General Christopher Ghika and Lieutenant Colonel James Aldridge (Regimental Lieutenant Colonel & Commanding Officer) of the Irish Guards.

25 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William met the volunteers and staff of the Welsh Rugby Charitable Trust and attended the Six Nations Rugby Match between Wales and England at the Principality Stadium in Cardiff. They were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of South Glamorgan (Mrs. Morfudd Meredith).

28 FEBRUARY - Catherine and William were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of West Glamorgan (Mrs. Louise Fleet) at Brynawel House Alcohol and Drug Rehabilitation Centre in Pontyclun. Afterwards, they visited Aberavon Celtic Leisure Centre, where His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Mid Glamorgan (Mr. Peter Vaughan) received them. Subsequently, they were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Dyfed (Miss Sara Edwards) as they opened the new patient room at Wales Air Ambulance in Dafen.