#Pierre's expression is so sweet so pure

[princelancey]

The delight I felt when this picture came out

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Racing Hearts - Part 3 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You and Charles have your first date. And the first encounter with his life in the public eye.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: Uhh, you guys make me so happy! And I personally really love this chapter, because is so SWEET!

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe, @faithm120601, @needtokeepfeelingsincheck, @bbygrllllllll

Morning sunlight streamed into the room as you stirred awake. You rubbed your eyes, still feeling a bit dazed by the events of the previous night. As you sat up, Sofia barged into your room, her eyes sparkling excitedly.

"Y/N! Oh my gosh, spill the tea! What happened after Charles drove you home last night?" Sofia jumped onto your bed, eager to hear all the details.

You blushed, feeling a bit hesitant to share everything, but you knew Sofia wouldn't let it go. "Well, we went up to this hill with a stunning view of the city," you began, a shy smile on your face. "We talked, and he was so sweet, Sofia. I've never felt this way before."

Sofia squealed, "That's amazing! I knew there was something special between you two!" Then she wiggled her eyebrows. "Did you kiss?"

You blushed and averted your gaze. "We did!"

Sofia squeaked and clapped her hands together. "OMG! This is so good! I knew this would work out!"

"Yeah," you nodded, "but I also told him about my past relationship and how I'm not really looking for anything serious right now. I didn't want to lead him on."

Sofia's excitement softened into concern, "Oh, Y/N, are you sure about that? I mean, Charles seems really into you. Maybe you should give it a chance?"

"I don't know, Sof," you replied, your uncertainty evident. "I don't want to get hurt again, and I don't want to hurt him either."

Just as you were deep in conversation, your phone chimed with a message notification. You picked it up, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was from Charles. Sofia leaned in, her eyes widening with curiosity.

"Well, are you going to open it or not?" Sofia urged.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the text.

Charles had sent you a simple but sweet message: "I had an incredible time with you last night. I can't stop thinking about you, and I would love to see you again soon if you're up for it. 😊"

Sofia's eyes lit up, "Oh my gosh, that's adorbs! What are you going to say?"

You blushed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I don't know, Sofia. I really like him, but I'm scared."

Sofia placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "It's okay to be scared, you. Just follow your heart and take things one step at a time. If you like him and enjoy his company, maybe it's worth exploring. You don't have to rush into anything serious right away."

You nodded, grateful for Sofia's support. "You're right. I'll reply and let him know I had a great time, too, and that I'd love to see him again."

"That's the spirit!" Sofia grinned, giving her friend a tight hug. "Just be honest with him, and everything will work out."

With newfound confidence, you replied to Charles's message, expressing your own feelings and agreeing to meet up again. As you hit send, you felt a sense of excitement about the possibilities ahead.

Sofia beamed, "See? It's going to be great! I can't wait to hear all about your next date!"

You laughed, "You're unbelievable, Sof. But thanks for being here for me."

"That's what best friends are for!" Sofia winked, "Now, let's get some breakfast and start planning your fabulous next rendezvous with Charles!"

As the morning sun painted the streets of Monaco with a warm glow, Charles and Pierre set off on their regular morning jog. It was a cherished ritual for the two friends when Pierre is in Monaco, providing a chance to catch up and share their thoughts.

"And then what happened?" Pierre asked as they jogged up the hill. Both athletes were slightly out of breath.

Charles couldn't contain his excitement, and as they settled into their pace, he began to spill the beans to Pierre about the incredible night he had with you.

"Mate, you won't believe it," Charles began, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Pierre matched his friend's enthusiasm, "Tell me everything!"

"Well," Charles began, "after we left the club, I took her to this hill overlooking the city. We talked for hours, and it was just so easy to connect with her. She's amazing, Pierre, and I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Pierre chuckled, teasingly nudging Charles, "You're smitten, mate."

"I think I am," Charles replied with a laugh. "But there's more. She told me about her past relationship and how she's not looking for anything serious right now. I understand where she's coming from, but I can't help but feel a strong connection with her."

Pierre nodded, understanding his friend's dilemma. "Well, take it slow, Charles. If she's worth it, she'll come around in her own time."

"You're right," Charles sighed, "I just don't want to mess this up. She's different, and I don't want to lose her."

Pierre smiled reassuringly, "I can see how much she means to you. Just be patient, my friend. Everything will work out."

As they continued their jog, Charles's phone buzzed with a notification. He slowed his pace for a moment to check the message. It was from you, and he felt a rush of anticipation as he opened it.

His face lit up as he read your response, and he couldn't help but share the news with Pierre. "She said she had a great time too, and she'd love to see me again!" Charles beamed.

"That's fantastic, frérot!" Pierre cheered. "Looks like things are heading in the right direction."

Charles nodded, feeling a sense of relief and excitement. "I can't wait to see her again. She's really something special."

Pierre patted his friend on the back, "Just take it one step at a time, Charles. You'll figure it out together."

Charles and Pierre finally settled on some stones at the peak of the hill, both catching their breath after the vigorous climb. Charles took a big sip from his water bottle before turning to his best friend.

"What should I do with her? What would you do?" Charles asked, seeking Pierre's advice.

Pierre pondered for a moment before responding, "Well, based on what I observed yesterday, she seems like a quite reserved person. I noticed her glancing around a few times, probably aware of all the curious vultures lurking nearby," he said, referring to the paparazzi. "It's clear she's not used to the public being so involved in her life, so you should keep that in mind."

Charles nodded, deep in thought. He was accustomed to living in the public eye, but he knew he had to be considerate of your feelings and protect you from any undue stress.

"You're right," Charles admitted. "I don't want to overwhelm her with all the attention. How about... how about I invite her over for dinner? We could cook something together."

Pierre burst into laughter at the suggestion. "Seriously, mate? You know you're a terrible cook!"

Charles grinned mischievously. "Exactly! But Y/N doesn't know that," he teased.

Pierre continued laughing, "Oh, this could be interesting. Go for it! And if the cooking turns out disastrous and she still stays, you know she's a keeper."

Charles chuckled, appreciating Pierre's support and humor.

Feeling confident in his plan, he picked up his phone and sent a message to you: "I want to see you again soon. Do you like cooking? How about a nice dinner at my place? :)" He hit send and eagerly awaited your response while he and Pierre continued to chat about their day and future plans.

Your phone buzzed, and a bright smile spread across your face as you read Charles's message. "A dinner date at his place? That sounds amazing," you thought to yourself. But as excitement welled up, so did your apprehensions about past relationships that left you hurt. You couldn't afford to let your guard down again, even if Charles seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Sofia's voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to see your best friend's concerned expression.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I'm fine. Charles invited me over for dinner, and I don't know if I should go."

Sofia raised an eyebrow, "Why not? It sounds like a lovely idea."

Your vulnerability surfaced as you confessed, "I just don't want to get hurt again. Every time I let my guard down, I end up getting hurt."

Sofia's hand gently squeezed your shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I get it. But Charles seems like a genuine person, and if he didn't care about you, he wouldn't have invited you over for dinner. Besides, you won't know if it's worth it if you don't take the risk."

Taking Sofia's words to heart, you took a deep breath, realizing that you couldn't let your past experiences hold you back from the possibility of something beautiful with Charles.

After some contemplation, you picked up your phone and mustered the courage to text him back: "Sure, I'd love to. I love cooking. Just tell me what to bring."

Sofia beamed beside you, knowing you couldn't resist such an invitation, especially from someone you genuinely liked.

As expected, Charles's reply came swiftly, assuring you that he would handle everything and pick you up at 5 pm.

"That's perfect. We have enough time," Sofia exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement. Your playful frown appeared as you muttered, "Please don't say for shopping," knowing that Sofia was always enthusiastic about retail therapy.

But Sofia was already on her feet, determined to make the most of your time. "Enough time to go shopping!" she declared, leading you out of the room.

As you ventured from one store to another, Sofia's enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but try on various outfits. By the time you returned home, you were laden with shopping bags.

After a quick shower, you found Sofia had prepared some outfit options for you on the bed. Sofia always had a knack for fashion, and you trusted your friend's choices.

Trying on the outfits, you finally settled on a black two-piece that accentuated your curves paired with a boho-style cardigan. Strappy sandals and simple jewelry completed the look. You stood before the mirror, your wavy hair cascading down your back, feeling confident and beautiful.

Sofia peeked into the room, grinning widely at the sight. "You look stunning, Y/N!"

You smiled back, grateful to have such a supportive friend by your side. "Thanks, Sofia. You always know what works best."

With the perfect outfit and newfound confidence, you were ready for the dinner date that awaited you with Charles. Excitement and nervousness intertwined within you, but you knew you had to embrace the possibility of happiness, even if it meant taking a risk.

"You look perfect," Sofia complimented, gazing at you with admiration. "But now go!"

"Thanks, Sof!" you replied, stepping out the door.

Exactly at 5 pm, Charles arrived to pick you up. His breath caught in his throat when he saw you; you looked absolutely stunning in your two-piece outfit, and he felt incredibly fortunate to spend the evening with you.

"Wow, you look amazing," Charles said, walking over to you and planting a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Blushing, you felt a flutter in your stomach at his sweet gesture. "Thank you," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Charles courteously opened the car door for you, and you drove to his apartment, chatting about your day, sharing laughter, and discovering common music interests. Upon arrival, Charles carried the grocery bags to the kitchen, and you admired his modern and tastefully furnished apartment.

"I hope you're okay with chicken and veggies," Charles said, showing you the fresh ingredients he had bought earlier.

"Sure, that sounds perfect," you replied, placing your bag on the floor and taking off your cardigan.

You admired the apartment's interior, with dark wood furniture and vibrant area rugs in the living room, sleek couches, and a cozy armchair. The kitchen boasted stainless steel appliances and a beautiful marble countertop. In the bedroom, a plush king-sized bed adorned with crisp white linens exuded comfort. Charles's passion for sports was evident from the trophies on display, particularly the wall with helmets in his other room. She also notices the white piano in the corridor.

"Thank you. I like your apartment," you expressed your appreciation as you made your way to the kitchen.

"Thanks," Charles called back with a smile, and you joined him in the kitchen.

"You're welcome. Can I help?" you offered, pulling your hair up with a scrunchy.

Charles found himself mesmerized by your natural beauty. You were absolutely stunning, and he caught himself momentarily lost in admiration before snapping back to reality.

"If you'd like," Charles replied, trying to hide his flustered state.

As you stood side by side in the kitchen, Charles admitted, "I have to confess, I'm not the best cook, but I promise I'll do my best," chuckling.

You playfully laughed, "No worries, Charles. It's all about having fun and trying something new together. We'll make it work!"

You settled on preparing a simple pasta dish with a homemade sauce. You took the lead, guiding Charles through the steps while playfully teasing him about his occasional kitchen mishaps. Charles found your laughter infectious and felt his nerves dissipate as you cooked together.

Amidst chopping vegetables and stirring the sauce, you exchanged lighthearted banter and shared stories from their past. The kitchen was filled with the delightful aroma of the sauce, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. As Charles watched you expertly work your way through his kitchen, he couldn't help but appreciate how easily and naturally you appeared.

"Do you want some white wine?" Charles asked, and you nodded.

"That would be perfect. I need some of it later for deglazing," you replied.

He fetched a bottle of white wine from the fridge and poured them each a glass. Placing the bottle next to you, you smiled at him, but he noticed tears glistening in your eyes.

Concerned, he was about to ask what was wrong when he felt a burning sensation in his own eyes. As he glanced down, he saw the onions you were cutting, and you both burst into heartfelt laughter.

Wiping away your tears, you placed the sliced onions into a small bowl. Charles handed you the glass, and you toasted to each other.

After a bit of trial and error, you finally plated your creation – a delicious-looking pasta dish topped with freshly grated cheese and herbs. It might not have been a gourmet masterpiece, but you were both proud of your joint effort.

As you sat down at the table, Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. He looked at you, your eyes filled with excitement, and he realized that it wasn't about being a master chef; it was about the shared experience and connection you were building.

"Bon appétit!" Charles said, raising his glass.

"Bon appétit!" you echoed, clinking your glass against his.

You savored your meal, exchanging smiles and laughter over their culinary adventure. Charles may not have been the best cook, but in that moment, it didn't matter. What mattered was the genuine connection he was forming with you and the joy you found in each other's company.

"That was delicious," he said after they finished, and you smiled.

"It was," you replied softly, taking another sip of your wine.

Then Charles leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers. "So I was thinking. How about a little walk? I could show you some of my favorite spots."

"I'd love that," you replied with a smile.

Charles's grin widened, and he got up from his chair, taking the dishes into the kitchen. You stood up as well and helped him clean everything up.

Then the two of you put on your shoes and then got out of the building.

As Charles and you strolled through the picturesque streets of Monaco, the glitz and glamour of the city surrounded you. The sun sparkled on the azure waters, and the gentle breeze carried an air of excitement. As you laughed and shared stories, you couldn't help but feel captivated by the charm of the famous Formula 1 driver by your side.

Little did you know that your carefree moment was about to be interrupted. Suddenly, a group of paparazzi appeared, cameras flashing and microphones thrust forward, eager to capture every moment of Charles's life. It was a scene straight out of a movie, but you quickly realized that this was the reality of being in the spotlight.

Charles glanced at you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this," he said softly, trying to shield you from the invasive attention.

You gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I understand. Just a part of being you, I guess?"

Still, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed as the paparazzi pressed in closer, bombarding you with questions and requests for photographs. It was clear that Charles was used to handling such situations, but you were taken aback by the intensity of it all.

Thinking quickly, Charles grabbed your hand and led you through a maze of streets, trying to shake off the paparazzi. You ducked into an alley and found a hidden path that led down to the harbor. Charles knew he had to act fast to give you some privacy.

"Follow me," Charles whispered, excitement twinkling in his eyes.

Curious and slightly bewildered, you followed him, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As you reached the harbor, he walked passed the guard, who just nodded at you and led you onto the jetty. You looked back and could see that the paparazzi weren't able to get across the guard.

When Charles stopped before a yacht, you looked at him.

"Is that... yours?" you asked, astonished.

Charles grinned, pleased by her reaction. "Yes, it is. My little escape when I need some time away from the limelight."

You couldn't believe your eyes. She had heard about the extravagant lifestyles of celebrities, but being invited to escape with Charles to his private yacht felt like a dream and also so out of place.

A harbor worker warmly greeted Charles and assisted him in untying the ropes. Stepping onto the yacht, Charles extended his hand to help you aboard.

"Thank you," you said, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the luxurious yacht.

Charles climbed on top and started the yacht. You hesitantly followed him up the stairs, and as he began driving forward, you bumped into him. In a swift move, Charles caught you, holding you close against his chest.

Your eyes locked, and there was a moment of connection before you cleared your throat, gently pulling away from him.

With a grin on his face, Charles steered you out of the harbor.

"Where are we going?" you asked as she settled down next to him.

"You'll see," Charles replied mysteriously.

Without further words, he navigated the yacht out to sea before making a left turn towards a secluded cove. Gradually, he slowed down and finally stopped the yacht altogether. The vessel was now pointed towards the mainland, with the open sea behind them. Charles lowered the anchor and turned off the engine.

"Come," Charles invited, extending his hand to you.

You took his hand, and he led you down, grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses from the refrigerator. Then, he guided you forward to the cushions on the front deck. You sat down, and he pointed towards the majestic mountains.

"The sunset is unfortunately not over the sea here, but if you can watch it like this... It's also really, really nice," he explained.

Astonished, you gazed at the mountains, understanding what he meant. "It's beautiful," she whispered, appreciating the stunning scenery and the thoughtful gesture.

As the yacht gently glided over the calm waters of the Mediterranean, Charles turned to you with a sincere expression on his face. "I'm really sorry about the paparazzi back there," he said, genuine remorse in his voice.

You smiled, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Charles, you don't need to apologize. I understand that it comes with the territory of being a public figure."

"I know, but I wish it didn't have to impact our time together like that," Charles replied, a touch of frustration evident in his tone.

"It's okay, really," you assured him. "It's all part of your world, and I'm here because I want to get to know the real you, not just the famous F1 driver."

Charles's eyes softened, appreciating her understanding. "Thank you for being so understanding. It means a lot to me."

The sun had set by now, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink. You found the moment enchanting, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events.

"This yacht is incredible," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood. "How often do you escape to this private oasis?"

Charles chuckled, happy to shift the focus away from the paparazzi encounter. "I try to get away here whenever I can, especially during breaks in the racing season. It's my sanctuary, a place where I can unwind and be myself."

You shifted your gaze, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle in your heart. "Talking about that... When... Uh, when is your next race?" you asked, knowing that Charles's racing career would undoubtedly consume a significant part of his time. It was one of the reasons why you were hesitant about him, considering he'd be away for most of the year.

Charles let out a sigh. "Well, we're just about to get into Monaco Race Week next week. That's why I'm here already. I try to be at home as often as possible, but when it's Monaco Grand Prix, I can stay here longer." He paused, the two of you sitting together on the cushions. "There's actually something I wanted to give you," he continued and got up.

You observed him as he walked to the back of the yacht and returned with two envelopes in his hand.

"These are VIP passes for the race. If you want, you and Sofia could come and watch the race in the Ferrari Garage," he offered, handing her the passes. "Only if you want, of course. I would totally understand if you don't..."

You looked at the passes and then back at Charles with a smile. "I would love to see you race, Charles," you said, and his face lit up with delight.

"Really?"

"Really. I mean, I have absolutely no clue when it comes to Formula 1, but I won't mind supporting you," you smiled, and Charles took your hand in his.

"You have no idea how happy this makes me," he confessed.

He looked at you intently, and then he gently placed a hand on your cheek. Charles' touch was warm and tender as your lips softly met. Your kiss was filled with affection and admiration, lingering on your lips before you parted. You felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and you kissed him back passionately.

"You make me happy, Y/N," he whispered against your lips, and you smiled into the next kiss.

You could have never imagined finding someone who brought you such happiness in Monaco, especially when you weren't actively seeking it.

[radiocheck]

another bc i can

again piarles - "i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?" 🌹💐🌷

(i'm a sucker for these dorks giving each other flowers)

Markets covered by bright orange and green umbrellas lined the wide cobbled streets of Milan, selling just about anything you could dream of. Charles passed through them slowly, his baseball cap and sunglasses on to try to avoid being recognised as he perused stalls of vibrant and aromatic spices, from vivid orange turmeric to the reddest chilli powder, book stalls selling beautiful old hardbacks with gold lettering, or art stands ranging from huge, detailed canvases of the Italian countryside preserved in oil paint, to a kindly old man sitting and sketching caricatures. At the end of the street he came across a flower stall, sweet smelling and overflowing with blooms of every shape and colour he could imagine. Charles paused and sniffed a bouquet, smiling faintly. Pierre was always buying him flowers, whether it was for a birthday, anniversary, or to celebrate a race win, but Charles felt ashamed to think back and realise he wasn’t sure he’d ever bought some for Pierre.

“I can customise them, depending on what you’re trying to say,” the lady sitting in the stall addressed him in Italian, her eyes wrinkling at the corners with the warmth of her expression. “Who are they for?”

“Someone I love,” Charles said honestly, touching one of the petals of a lily nearby with the tip of one finger. “I just thought he’d like them.”

The lady smiled as if she understood more than he said, and got to her feet. “The white lily symbolises pure love,” she told him, carefully lifting a few from the bunch in which they stood. “Fitting, no?”

She built him a bouquet of white lilies, apple blossom, daisies, honeysuckle, and red chrysanthemum, telling a story of love, devotion, and preference above all else. Charles marvelled at her hands as she composed them into a beautiful bunch, tying them together with a pink ribbon. The smell coming off them was incredible, and he thanked her profusely, leaving an extra tip before taking the bouquet and continuing back towards home.

Pierre had been in a meeting with Alpine, so Charles had gone for a wander around the city in the meantime, enjoying the markets and sunshine and getting an ice cream, but now he couldn’t wait to get back to Pierre and give him these flowers.

He let himself in, ditching cap, keys and sunglasses in a bowl by the door. His face instantly bloomed into a smile when he saw Pierre was already back. “Calamar, I brought you flowers.” He suddenly felt half shy, stretching the beautiful and lavish bouquet out to his best friend, his lover.

“For what?” Pierre laughed, surprised but happy, taking them from Charles and smelling them in the same way Charles had done in the stall. “They’re beautiful.”

“There has to be a reason?” Charles didn’t know why he was blushing, but he was, and he tucked himself into Pierre’s side to hide it. “You always bring me flowers, and I just saw these and thought you would like them.”

“I love them.” Pierre wound his arm around Charles’ waist, drawing him close and resting his chin on top of his head as he admired the bouquet. He was touched more than he knew how to say. Charles was always sweet, and never went short on showing Pierre how much he loved him, but he was also the first boy Pierre had been with, and with that came the territory of re-negotiating in himself what role he played in a relationship. He was used to buying flowers, but not to getting them, and it stirred a fierce love inside him for this beautiful boy – his first and last real love. “And I love you.”

Charles extracted himself from Pierre just enough to be able to see his face, the smile on his lips and the surprise threat of tears in those bright blue eyes. That expression – that was why he’d bought Pierre flowers. He leaned in and kissed him, taking care not to squish the flowers between them. “Je t’aime, calamar.”

[jaundicehinch]

Until the Last Drop

SNEAK PEEK OF 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 1, 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 3

I'm teasing y'all atp 😭😭

Recomended Song:

Family Jewels - Marina and the Diamonds

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The summer break was agonizing, for Y/N.

She was in court, at a hearing. Her mother was sitting beside her, her fake magical eye was going in all directions awry, while her palms rested on her trusty wooden staff. Talking to her colleague, she leaned over and whispered. "Rough day, Gaston. Caught this one m'self, tough luck wi' him. Almost clawed me bloody ear out."

Gaston Toussaint, her colleague, simply gave a pinch of his fancy pointed moustache and raised his chin up. Barty Crouch Sr. was seated at the high chair, clearing his throat and shuffling the papers which were in his hands.

"Pierre Badeaux, you have been brought from Azkaban at your own request, to prevent evidence to this council. Should your testimony prove consequential, Council may be prepared to order your immediate release. Until such time, you remain in the eyes of the Ministry a convicted Death Eater, do you accept these terms?", Bartemius uttered. "I do sir.", Pierre wheezed. "And what do you wish to present?"

"I have names, sir.. There was - Rosier! Evan Rosier!"

Bartemius exhaled through his nose. Y/N had already lost significant will to live, and the trial had barely even started. "Rosier is dead,", he shuffled through the papers. "If that is all the witness has to offer-"

"No, no no!", Pierre gasped. "There was Rookwood! He was a spy!"

"Augustus Rookwood? Of the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yeah yeah, the same! He has delivered information, from inside the Ministry, you know?", Badeaux nodded frantically. "Very well.. Council will be deliberated. In the meantime, you will be escorted back to Az-"

"NO, NO NO!", cried Pierre desperately. "There was one more.." , he gasped out lowly. Barty grumbled. "Names, give me names!"

Y/N exhaled deeply and looked back to see her father shaking nervously in the last row.

"F/N F/L/N!", Pierre shouted and Y/N turned paler than she already was. Her mother's face immediately contorted in pure wrath and utter disgust. Her father attempted to flee the court, but was restrained by two guards before he could escape.

"NO! NOT MY GIRL, NO!", F/N reached out for Y/Ns hand, but she tossed it away immediately. Coldly, she looked him in the eyes with a menacing expression.

"Your 𝑤ℎ𝑜?"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ˏˋ°•*⁀➷·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

Needless to say, returning back to school for her third term was even more dreadful. On the Hogwarts Express, she read the Daily Prophet newspaper with half her pale face buried in her palm.

𝕱/𝕹 𝕷/𝕹: 𝕬 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝕬𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖙?

𝔉/𝔑 𝔏/𝔑 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔡-𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔩! 𝔒𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 21𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱, 𝔉/𝔑 𝔉/𝔏/𝔑 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔳𝔦𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔞 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯! 𝔚𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶? 𝔚𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔨 𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔢𝔴 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫, 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔡, 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔏/𝔑! 𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪? 𝔑𝔬 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔲𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔬𝔬𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶!

-𝔄𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔟𝔶 𝕽𝖎𝖙𝖆 𝕾𝖐𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖗

That wretched, arrogant, narcissistic wreck of a witch.. Making a laughing stock out of her and her mother.. Oh Revenge would be ever so sweet if Rita Skeeter tripped and landed in the hands of Y/N.She looked outside of the gloomy window of the, naturally, empty compartment.

Nothing cheerful about today, gray sky again, Y/N thought and exhaled, rubbing her temples. She was so overcome with wrath and grief and utter betrayal, she forgot about Hogwarts.

How could her father lie to her? How long has he been lying to her, and her mother? And the Ministry?

Most of all, how could she ever hold a normal conversation with someone? Well, aside from Dumbledore. He was the only man who would be so mature 𝑎𝑛𝑑 kind enough, aside from Severus, to listen to one's problems even if they were quite controversial, or perhaps trivial. As she arrived at the grand, once joy-inducing halls of Hogwarts, she was no longer keeping her chin up.

Her chin was almost glued to her chest, making the angle of her eyes seem menacing and terrifying. For once, Y/N didn't want to be left alone. Sure, being away from prying eyes like those in the Great Hall would be something she fancied, but she really needed someone to turn to right now. As she sat down at the green table, not even Malfoy, whose father wasn't any bloody better, was sneering at ther and moving away from her.

𝑆𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑝, 𝑆𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑝, 𝑆𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑝, 𝑆𝑢𝑐𝑘. 𝑖𝑡. 𝑢𝑝. Y/N kept telling herself and repeated it over and over in her head. She stood still and didn't move her head from the stiff, forward position she had it in. That's what her mother taught her. Be tough, and suck it up like a good child would do. Be fearless, she said.

Be brave.

But having so many eyes on you, so many scrutinizing pupils observing and gawking at the outcast, whose father had commit acts against wizardkind, how could she be brave?

Dumbledore took note of this and quickly stood up to make his speech. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast...

As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.

They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors.On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

As to our new appointment, well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none another than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties. Well, I think that's everything of importance. Let the feast begin!", the old man's wheezing voice boomed around the castle and delectable platters of food appeared on the tables. But Y/N had no interest in eating, she had far worse things to be wallowing in.

Like how she'd never see her father again and knowing he's suffering, the man who raised her so kindly and lied to her for Merlin knows how long. Snape couldn't help but watch the poor girl wallow in her own misery. She had the right to do so, don't get him wrong. But the girl who was always witty and snarky, wise and mature, to be in such a somber and brooding state?

"Oh, Severus, look at the poor thing.. I can't imagine how difficult it must be for her. Everyone is staring, i see."

Minerva chimed in and held her chest, pitying the Slytherin. Snape nodded as he observed Y/N gaze into oblivion with narrow, menacing eyes, basically threatening anyone within 5 feet of her.

On a seperate note, Severus stared at the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher with a fiery contempt. Such a pure, intense scowl which couldn't be mistaken for anything other than deep wrath.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

[blog-perfume]

Vanilla Perfume For Girls

If you’re in search of a spicy vanilla fragrance that feels fitting year round, this is a superb choice. If you like to layer fragrances to find a way to mix and match to create a custom scent, you may be wondering what layers properly with vanilla. There aren't any rules in phrases of layering scents, however traditional vanilla tends to layer properly with woody, spicy, or smoky notes. So in case you have a favorite candy vanilla fragrance (like KILIAN Paris Love, Don't Be Shy) and you need to give it a sensual, nighttime aptitude, strive layering it with one thing like vanilla perfume.

We’re undecided how the word “vanilla” advanced to mean bland, fundamental or boring – as a end result of the reality is, vanilla itself isn’t even close to being blah. It’s the coziness on high of a woodsy note, the dash of sweetness in a spicy scent, the seductive hint in a floral base, and it’s in some of our most-known fragrances . Pierre Montale’s sugary aroma is ideal for the lady who constantly has a sweet tooth. Although wealthy at first, apricot and creamy vanilla remodel the scent into a lush, cozy, and refined fragrance that’s younger and engaging.

It’s refreshing, dewy, and light—like a crisp apple on a scorching summer time day. This glowing and long-lasting perfume can be blended with jasmine for a clean and breezy essence. If you’re looking for a lightweight scent that you could wear morning and night, look no further. Filing a vanilla fragrance under the recent category might seem odd, however hear me out. This distinctive vanilla scent opens up with a burst of citrus and green tea that give it a—you guessed it—fresh, fragrant quality. These notes are grounded by vanilla beans and cashmere woods for a hotter drydown.

Our fragrances harness the aromatherapeutic energy of the plant materials they’re composed of. With Dirty Vanilla, you could discover heightened sensuality and self-healing Ayurvedic properties current in our pure elements. On the Mexican coast of Veracruz hides the story of a valuable plant. From the tasty fragrances of vanilla emerges a condensed vanilla perfume pleasure. Pure Madagascar vanilla, creamy tonka bean, & soft heliotrope mix for a seductive expression of nature.

Sweet and refined, this fragrance is ideal for spring and summer, when the flowers are blooming, and spirits are excessive. Eau Duelle is likely certainly one of the best vanilla fragrances for women who stay slowly, quietly, and at occasions in desires. La Belle is among the best perfumes with vanilla notes for ladies who need to scent like a tasty pear dessert. A cheerful and vivid perfume that features a pleasant fruity-sweet mix of pear, bergamot, vanilla, and amber complemented with the note of vetiver and its particular deep-green woody undertones. Gentle Fluidity Gold is the most effective amber-vanilla perfume for ladies who need to radiate heat, softness, and pure love. An beautiful and intoxicating perfume built round a clean blend of lavender, vanilla, and woody notes accented with black licorice and powdery iris and sweetened with thick-syrup-like tonka beans.

The greatest approach to describe the scent of Chloe’s Atelier des Fleurs Vanilla Planifolia is that the smell is more reminiscent of a vanilla flower quite than a sweet vanilla dessert. In fact, vanilla really comes from an orchid, so perfumer Quentin Bisch played on floral notes when creating this unique vanilla scent. Remember after I said that a ~sophisticated~ vanilla fragrance ought to be accompanied by deeper notes? Well, YSL’s Black Opium is a major example of that. Combining notes of soft white flowers, black espresso, and vanilla, you’ll get a scent that gives off sweet-but-seductive vibes. Whether you think about yourself a bonafide gourmand woman or similar to to scent hints of sweetness in your perfume, vanilla can do it all.

Together, every observe plays a job in making this candy, juicy perfume actually one-of-a-kind. When you apply Kilian’s Don’t Be Shy fragrance, you’re hit with a refreshing orange blossom scent. Then after it sits on the warmth of your pores and skin, the honeysuckle and rose fragrances make themselves recognized. Your senses are graced with a contact of candy marshmallow sugar accord.

Wellness Collection

Upon first utility, you’ll be hit with a powerful, spicy aroma that soon transitions to easy vanilla and sandalwood. This mixture creates a scent that's earthy but creamy. Vanilla, rose, bergamot, white musks, and jasmine are mixed to create this shiny and fresh rose scent.

But it’s woody as an alternative of being a candied vanilla-like aroma, so you’ll get whiffs of a deeper and hotter scent as an alternative of overt sweetness. I mean, if we have the possibility to scent like a goddess, why wouldn’t we?! Mugler’s Alien Goddess fragrance is a heat floral scent composed of bergamot, jasmine, and bourbon vanilla.

13 Affordable Perfumes That Allure Editors AdoreHigh-quality scents at low prices are proper this way. These Are the Best-Smelling Fragrances at Target Right NowFind your new signature scent, it doesn't matter what your budget is. All merchandise featured on Allure are independently selected by our editors. However, when you buy one thing through our retail hyperlinks, we might earn an affiliate fee. We independently analysis, test, evaluate, and recommend one of the best products—learn extra about our process. If you purchase one thing by way of our hyperlinks, we could earn a commission.

This flowery-vanilla fragrance is subtle and the right addition to any assortment that's in want of a lighter, extra light touch. With spicy notes of coriander paired with an earthy musk, the bottom notes depart behind a vanilla accord that brightens the bouquet while amber imbues it with a heat, woody finish. To offset the overt sweetness typically found in vanilla perfumes, this fragrance makes use of base notes of bamboo and sandalwood to accompany the creamy vanilla bean and cashmere notes. Capture the allure of Madagascar’s rich vanilla perfume landscape with this nourishing fragrance oil featuring the good and cozy essence of vanilla bean, the subtle floralcy of vanilla orchid, and a hint of coconut.

The Madagascar vanilla is hand-harvested by local villagers and enriched with baobab oil to nourish the skin.

Mine was a roll-on of Nemat Amber oil, hers was a journey spray of one thing I did not recognize — one thing heat, wealthy however not cloying, decidedly sweet, and altogether delicious.

Capture the allure of Madagascar’s wealthy panorama with this nourishing fragrance oil that includes the warm essence of vanilla bean, the subtle floralcy of vanilla orchid, and a hint of coconut.

Although wealthy at first, apricot and creamy vanilla rework the scent into a lush, cozy, and refined perfume that’s younger and enticing.

Warm and sweet, Crème Vanille is an elevated vanilla that turns into an extension of you.

Born in Roma is amongst the greatest perfumes that odor like vanilla and scrumptious jasmine tea with blackcurrant jam. Not just a bright, charming fragrance, however a elaborate dessert crammed with delicate vanilla cream and thick raspberry syrup, coated with iris powdered sugar, and adorned with fresh jasmine flowers. This perfume is meant to evoke a way of consolation. In fact, it was inspired by Venice, one of many cities Gabrielle Chanel fell in love with after the demise of her lover, Boy Capel.

[dollfaced-erin]

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: Hi! Hi!! Rin here again! It’s been quite a while since I’ve written, and this may be one of my last chapters before I got on a hiatus. School’s opening up soon, and I’m a hostel student. Currently, this is my last year, so by the end of this year, I’ll be updating lots more! (And playing alot more Stardew valley hehe)

This chapter may be more Abigail centered, since the friendship between the two is really necessary for the plot.

Ah, one more thing, the clothing choices will be based on a mod in Stardew Valley, cute seasonal clothing for NPC’s

Oh plus, Sebastian’s gonna be that emo jerk, ya hear me? Don’t go coming at me for that please :’)

CHAPTER THREE

It’s been a few weeks since (Y/n) had moved in, and apparently, had been settling in just nicely. Not only was she doing well with the farm, she was starting to get along with the all the villagers of Pelican Town. Especially the bachelors and bachelorettes around her age. 

Namely, Abigail and Sam.

Speaking of the duo, they had been hanging out with (Y/n) whenever she was free. But she seldom was, since she had to maintain her income by doing other work such as fishing, mining for mineral goods and doing odd-jobs for those around the town and they respected her.

Sebastian too hasn’t seen her recently, except during the moments she come to his house to talk to Robin about the farm buildings when he comes out to get lunch (or breakfast, for his case), or when she passes by on her way to the mines when he was taking a smoke. She would always slip in a brief hello and the two would exchange a few words before she was well on her way.

(Y/n) wasn’t always one to take a breather, not when she has so many things to take care of. Harvey apparently told Maru who told Robin, who told Sebastian, who told Sam, who told Abigail that (Y/n) had passed out numerous times from exerting herself too much. So the two put their heads together to get her to relax a little. 

Abigail was staring out into the clear blue stream that flowed beneath the stone bridge she stood on. The fish were swimming happily beneath her and she smiled in delight. Oh how she wished she could be as carefree as the fish. 

“Ah! I got it!” a familiar voice exclaimed from behind her. 

Abigail whipped her head around, her purple locks swaying as she did, as she turned around to see her (h/c) friend with a bamboo pole clutched in her hands. 

“Oh, wow! It’s a big one!” Abigail shrieked in excitement, her green eyes shining with pure joy. “Come on, (Y/n)! You got this!” she cheered, her hands in determined fists as she watched her friend reel in the marine life. 

“Ah!” (Y/n) exclaimed, as she successfully reeled in a silver-grade Shad. 

“You did it!” Abigail cheered childishly. Then, she stopped as her face beamed red. It was quite rare of her to have an outburst like this, she was usually so reserved to people she didn’t really know. 

She glanced at the (s/c) girl next to her, who was quite pleased with her catch. But ever since this girl moved in, she, without a doubt had shared her interests with the said girl, leading to many long and exciting conversations. 

Abigail admits that (Y/n) is a worthy as a cool enough gal to hang out with the gang.

“Yo, (Y/n). Me and the gang are hanging out at the Saloon tonight. You down?” Abigail asked with occasional her city-girl slang. (Y/n)’s head whipped around to face her, her (e/c) eyes gleaming. “You and the gang? You mean Sebastian and Sam?”

Abigail nodded as she let out a slight chuckle. “You bet. It’s some kind of tradition for us, and I thought maybe you should join us sometime,” Abigail invited as she flashed a quirky smile with her pearl white teeth.

She was hoping so bad in her heart that the girl would say yes, she really wanted some girl time with another female after so long with only boys. Agh, that must have sounded so bad, she scolded herself. She was literally gonna die if (Y/n) said no after she had put up that ‘macho’ front.

“If the boys don’t mind me around, sure why not? I could use some sweet free time, with my bestie,” said (Y/n) as she nudged her elbow with the purple-haired lady, a similar teasing smile on her lips. 

“Great! Meetup starts at 5, game starts 30 minutes after,” Abigail said. (Y/n) nods her head, “Thanks, I’ll head on right over after settling my shipments for the day! Can’t go on without making progress on the farm, huh?” 

The two parted, leaving Abigail to look at her reflection one last time in the crystal clear river, before heading off to the game room of the Stardrop Saloon. Her smile was so wide, she got lots of odd stares from her parents, since she was such a cold and shut-out girl, and to see her like this really shocked her parents. 

“Honey, what’s got you in such a mood?” Caroline asked, as she passed her daughter as she lent Evelyn a hand whilst tending the community gardens. “Ah, it’s...it’s nothing, Mom!” Abigail said, her smile immediately morphing into one of shock.

“Is it Sebastian, Robin’s son?” Caroline teased, making Abigail shake her head furiously. “No, Mom! It’s not him!” she protested, her face getting slightly redder. 

“Hmm, then I don’t suppose it’s that charming farmer that hung out with you a moment ago?” the green-haired lady teased once more.

 “Uh-(Y/n)?! No! It’s really not!” Abigail protested more, more aggressively once more, realizing her mom was spot on. The woman laughed lightly at her daughter whilst the young woman stormed off in frustration. 

“I know it’s both of them,” Caroline smiled delightfully. Maybe the farmer’s presence really would bring a good change to the community, and most importantly, to her daughter.

“You said (Y/n) was joining us?” Sam said ecstatically as he plopped down on the red sofa in the corner of the arcade room. Abigail nodded triumphantly, since Sam had been trying to really hard to strike up an interesting conversation between the two before it fades down to awkward silence.

“I’m telling you, she’s this really cool girl type. She won’t let your conversation die down!” Sebastian heard the female tell, as soon as he stepped into the Saloon. 

“Yo, Seb!” Sam greeted, raising a hand, as the male responded similarly, before tucking his hands into his pockets of his hoodie once more. “So, who’s one to not let your story die, huh, Abby?” Sebastian teased, indirectly telling her just how loud she was.

“It’s not that frequent I hear you praising someone so generously,” he said, plopping himself right next to Sam. Abigail huffed and crossed her arms, “Oh, come on, Seb! You know she’s an out-going person,” she said before her expression morphed into one of teasing. 

“Oh, right. You don’t spend much time out of your room to know about the outside,” she teased, making an irk mark appear on Sebastian’s forehead. “Excuse me? I’m working my butt off from programming, mind you,” he said.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Gus greeted, and a loud hello from Emily.

“It’s rare to see you here, but how’re you doing?” Pierre asked, as the said girl entered their vision. It seems that she had groomed and cleaned herself thoroughly before coming, her (h/c) hair slightly shiny from water, and her bright skin that was earlier much redder from heavy-duty. Her clothes also seemed to have changed from her dirt marred blue pants and black shirt to a white shirt with a light blue jacket and light blue skirt.

“I’m doing great! The seeds I got are sprouting just nicely!” the girl praised, earning a hefty laugh from Pierre.

After greeting those that have called out to her, she made her way over to the trio that had invited her over. “Wow, didn’t know she was this well-known since she’s new and all,” Sebastian muttered.

“Haven’t you heard? Mayor Lewis put (Y/n) in charge of mending the old community center, and everyone’s buzzing about it!” Sam said, quite surprised at his friend’s reaction. “She’s starting to get on great terms with my mom, and Vincent totally likes her,”

Abigail nodded in agreement, “Yeah, Dad has been boasting that (Y/n)’s been preferring our goods over Joja’s,” she said making Sebastian scoff lightly. 

“New and already a people-pleaser?” Sebastian said, quite sour with how easy (Y/n) managed to round everyone’s attention within a small time span.

Sam slapped his back in a friendly way, “Hey, sooner or later you’re gonna have fun with her too,” Sam said. Typical Sam, a cliche optimistic guy.

“I’ll see if she’s a good enough lass to hang around,” he said as he stood up and picked up his personal favourite cue stick. “Let’s see how well she plays pool,” he said, a slight smirk on his face making colour drain from Abigail and Sam’s faces. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late! I picked up a few things I wanted to hand out,” the girl said as she racked a hand into a small pouch. (Y/n) then approached Abigail and gestured a hand.

Abigail was legit scared that (Y/n) would put something she hated like...like spiders. But (Y/n) laughed it off and said she wouldn’t stoop that low. The said girl placed a fistful of cold small...things on the pale girl’s hand.

When she released her hand, turns out (Y/n) had placed a fistful of Amethysts in her hand. “I saw this in the mines and thought about your purple hair, do you like it?” she asked.

“Like it? I love it! You’re the absolute best, (Y/n)!” Abigail gushed before the multi-job farmer turned to Sam. 

“I heard from your mom you love this, and I got plenty,” (Y/n) said as she produced a tin of Joja cola and handed it to Sam. “Yo, thanks! I really like this! Thanks a whole bunch, (Y/n)!” 

“And, Sebastian!” she said, as she held her fist behind her back, her other hand fiddling with her pouch. “Don’t think you can be friends with me that easi--” he was cut off by a forceful pull taking his arm and stretching it out, the palm open. 

“Ah, you were already waiting for something?” the girl teased, making the other two snicker as the ravenette’s face turned red and looked away. “N-no,” he stuttered as he felt something warm then cold press into his palm.

He looked back into the open hand, a lovely crystal blue item resting on it, other than the slender body part that held his hand. A frozen tear. Sebastian looked at (Y/n) in disbelief. But the latter just smiled cheekily.

“I reached level 53 in the mines yesterday, and saw this little beauty. Looks like you, don’t you think?” she asked, a playful smirk on her lips as her gaze lingered to her feet. 

Sebastian’s eyebrow lifted, as he expected the girl to continue what she was saying. “Small, and cold, don’t you agree?” she teased as Abigail and Sam burst out laughing. 

Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed in slight anger but more to amusement and his expression turned into his sour one (y’know, like one of his sprite design). “Sorry, sorry,” (Y/n) laughed. “But no, actually, it just reminded me of you, no lie.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian said, his face reddening as he realized he hadn’t pulled his hand from hers. “I...I really like this. How did you know..?” he trailed off. “Instinct, truthfully. You look like someone who loves things from the mines, am I wrong?”

“Right,” Sebastian said, before picking up another cue stick, handing it to her. “(Y/n). Wanna play a game of pool?” he asked, or more like challenged, as the two cheered slightly in the back. Abigail clutching onto Sam’s sleeve and he clutched her hand in slight panic to (Y/n) answer.

A small smile graced her plump pink lips, as the maiden accepted the stick the male held out for her to take. “I’m not too good at this, but I’ll give it a shot.”

[mistaeq]

Hey!! Can I request a reader insert of Polnareff trying to flirt with a girl he found cute/interesting and her reciprocating? I’m missing him already even though I’m not even finished with part 3 yet because (spoiler) I’ve already found out his tragic fate :’( tyia!!

Jean Pierre Polnareff: Mutual Flirting

TW // none

Flirting, this prompt is the cutest, sorry about the ending, fem!s/o

WORD COUNT: 1.93k

What the hell did they want from you? You thought they had stopped wanting money from you, but there you were, running from a bunch of youngsters who only wanted to steal the few money you still had.

You had no idea something like this could happen in a place like Singapore. It felt peaceful, when you moved. But then bad things started to happen. To you only, apparently. You were growing tired of that situation. Sometimes you only wanted to get the first flight and run away. But now you only had your poor feet, to run away from those thieves.

You were running with your head turned back, to see where they were and who was following you. Unfortunately - or not - nobody has eyes behind their head, and you straight up ran into someone.

"Ugh! -.. mon dieu..." the huge man flinched before throwing his arm around you. "Sorry, sorry, mademoiselle, I was in the middle of your way." a french gentleman. Perfect.

You rested for a second on the arm that had caught you, but then you immediately freaked out and started apologizing.

"N-no, you should forgive me, sir, I-..." you lowered your voice to a whisper. "...please, help me." the man heard you. You were such a beautiful girl. Even though he knew nothing about you, giving a help wouldn't have hurt. Plus, Jotaro and Kakyoin were somewhere around the city, and Avdol was with Joseph, looking for hints about Dio with Hermit Purple. So he was all alone, doing nothing.

He noticed you were slowly hiding behind him, a yelling and stomping noise getting closer. A bunch of guys was approaching the two of you. You didn't know what of that man's gaze suggested you he was a sweetheart. But you were deeply right.

"Are they harassing you?"

"They want my money."

"Will you trust me?" not that you had any choice. Running away again was even worse than trying to stay by that man's side. You nodded.

"Oi, y/n, you found a prince charming?"

"Give us your money and cut this bullshit!" the french pushed you in front of him.

"I'm no prince charming. Just take her. None of my business." for a minute, you regretted trusting him. You panicked. The thieves started laughing, one of them approached you to grab your arm.

"This is priceless, you should see the look on your fucking fac-" he stopped, when a deep cut appeared on his cheek. "What the..."

A second guy tried to grab you, and tripped on something invisible, hitting the ground with his nose. Oh, you were confused. You couldn't imagine what was going on. Not you nor those guys could see Silver Chariot.

"Oi, little bitch." those bastards were angry. They truly were. "What the fuck are you doing? Are you a witch or something?" You didn't know what to do. But you were also quite sure that those weird wounds came from the french gentleman.

"You better run." you just said, hoping it would work. But it didn't. When one of them, their leader, apparently, approached you again and obtained a new wound on his arm, they freaked out like five year olds, and ran away, threatening to sue you for it. As if they hadn't just tried to steal your money.

"Au revoir!" the man laughed. When they were far enough to let out a breath of relief, you turned towards the gentleman. "...You gave me a heart attack, but... was it you? That... thing. Those wounds."

"Yes. It was me. Don't ask, please."

"I won't... just... thank you."

"No, thank YOU for bumping into me. Didn't know angels could live on Earth." How. Cheesy. The cheesiest thing you had ever heard. You laughed nervously, but your face became as red as his earrings. Damn, that man was a whole flirt. "So... y/n, uh? Enchanté."

"Do I get to know the name of my savior too, or...?" as you asked the question, he ran a hand through his hair and smiled languidly.

"Jean Pierre Polnareff, just Jean for you." beside him, Silver Chariot was striking poses to impress you. Poor stand, you couldn't see it. It was so used to people seeing stands, that it actually forgot ordinary people couldn't see them. But maybe it was better like this, since Chariot's poses were clearly expressing what Polnareff would have wanted to do with you. This man found you incredibly interesting and cute.

"Okay Jean... thank you... i mean it... a lot." you didn't know what to do. You were completely alone in Singapore, and he was so beautiful and seemed so caring and interested in you. And he was french, so maybe he was just a tourist. Maybe he could bring you with him... no, no, wait, what were you thinking? He looked like he was flirting with you, and you were down for it. But maybe he was just like this with everyone, and you were mistaking pure kindness for flirting. And you had just known each other.

"I'll let you at your business... Jean. See you, maybe... or maybe not..." you were babbling, moving slow steps away from him. He didn't do anything. Just stood there thinking. Come on, Jotaro and Kakyoin just left him without saying anything, Avdol and Joseph were back at the hotel and he was too lazy to already go back there. He had nothing to do. Fighting the Ebony Devil stand user all alone that morning had made him sick of thinking about being careful and stuff. It was his turn to mind his own business.

"I have nothing to do, to be honest. I wanted to go get a drink... but I'd be all alone..." you heard his voice from the back. Was he talking to you? Was he asking you to spend some time with him? "Mademoiselle?" You turned around, he stood there, smiling and running a hand through his hand. Again. You decided to reciprocate his flirts. He was fine.

"Not that I have anything to do right now..." your feet's tips met each other. You looked so shy. But you were actually flirting back. "I get to choose the place. I surely know Singapore better than you."

"I have no objections."

"You're weird, Jean Pierre Polnareff. It's curious."

---

You sat at a table in a cute café you chose. You assured him they made the best milkshake, and Jean Pierre thought that something cold during a warm afternoon would have been perfect. He was eager to ask that interesting girl what happened with those guys before. You never knew that, but during your sweet time drinking and talking, Polnareff had Silver Chariot protecting you behind your chair. Enemy stand users could be anywhere, or also dumb thieves like those before.

He was the one who ordered. When you saw what he was holding, you couldn't believe how much of a tease and a flirt he could ever be. Also, c h e e s y.

"Jean?" you laughed. You weren't planning on turning down his flirt, you just wanted to have a little fun. "Only one glass and two straws?"

He felt his face warm up. His cheeks had the same colour as his earrings.

"Oh... uhm." Jean Pierre swallowed, then avoided your gaze. "Actually... you're right. Just... the price was lower like this."

"Yeah right." you teased him, smirking. You were playing his same game, and he liked it. "No worries, Jean. Guess we'll just have to drink a little closer than I expected..." he played it cool, but his heart was fucking racing.

He'd flirt a lot with lots of interesting girls, but you? You had something different. You played his game, and that was driving him crazy. Every second you were more interesting for him. So impulsive and ready to try out new things, a girl so ready to flirt back to a man who just scared four thugs for her.

"Inviting someone to drink something with you and ordering only one big milkshake instead of two regular ones just because of the lower price..." you sucked up some milkshake from your straw, then waited for him to drink too, on purpose to tease him again. "...rude." He almost choked on the straw. He coughed so hard his eyes were teary.

He knew you didn't really mean that. You two were playing with each other's mind.

"So why are you here in Singapore?" you asked. But you were serious, now.

"Uhm... I'm actually on a trip with friends, we... we have something important to do. In Egypt."

"Egypt?" He was a traveller? He could maybe bring you along? Maybe... "Sounds so cool... you're from France, aren't you?"

"Oh, oui." He raised an eyebrow, and smirked, sucking on his milkshake straw. "You might want to come and visit Paris, once this issue we have to solve will be solved. I'll be there." He was implying he wouldn't have brought you with him on his trip with his friends?

He just couldn't force you in such a situation. He perfectly understood from the look on your face that you would have been interested in following him and the crusaders. But he had found someone who seemes interested in him and his little flirty games. So special. He couldn't expose you to such a danger.

"Why won't you let me follo-"

"Remember what I told you about the mysterious wounds I caused?" You nodded.

"Don't ask."

"Please. It's for your safety. But I actually... oh shit..." Jean Pierre sighed. "...I flirt because I can't express serious stuff easily... just know you're a special one for me, okay?"

"We've known each other for less than two hours, Jean." you put an emphasis on his name.

"You just asked to follow me in a whole ass trip to Egypt, y/n." He played your game. You laughed.

"You're weird, Jean Pierre Polnareff. It's cute."

---

"So here's the part where you go away with your friends and leave me behind?" you teased dramatically, smirking but still holding onto his arm.

Jotaro and Avdol were waiting for him. Kakyoin and Joseph were just peacefully talking. But still, waiting for Polnareff.

"Sadly. This won't be the last time we see each other. I promise." You impulsively hugged him tight. You might have known each other only for few time. But he was the first one to actually listen to you, and the first one to give you such positive vibes after much time of nothing. He knew how to be appreciated. You could swear you almost felt like someone else was hugging you from behind. But nobody was there. Your eyes couldn't see Chariot puppy eyeing Polnareff because it already missed your presence.

"You promise."

"I do." he pulled a small envelope out of his pocket and gave it to you. "And if you do too, this is for you. I'll be waiting."

"Yare, yare... Polnareff, we're going." Jotaro's deep voice broke your little sweet moment. Still, Jean Pierre kissed your forehead, and waved goodbye at you, running a little to reach his friends, who had already started walking away to hurry him.

The envelope in your hands was a bit heavier than you expected. You pulled out the tiny note inside of it, an address was scribbled on it. A French street. He would have been waiting for you to go there, after all. In the back of the note, something else was written.

"You're weird, y/n. It's special."

From the envelope, a red earring in the shape of an half-heart, fell in your hand.

[buttonso]

Happy Birthday, Harvey

WELL.... it’s Winter 14, gotta do something to acknowledge it! My drawing game is garbage today, so, I thought I would post a chapter from the fic I’ve been working on since summer.  This is actually the fourth chapter, but one could read it as a standalone.  The fic itself is rated Mature on AO3, but this chapter is pure fluff and should be appropriate for teens- there are a few swear words.

14th of Winter Ascending

Standing before the floor-length mirror on the back of his bathroom door, Harvey stood up as straight as he could, puffing his chest out. Unable to sit still or relax the last several hours, he’d taken exceptional care with his clothing this evening, putting on his best suit and tie, polishing his glasses and combing his hair carefully. ~Well... do I look handsome? Manly?~ He drooped and sighed. ~Or am I just a dork in a cheap suit?~ He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for tonight.  It had all the hallmarks of a romantic date, but neither of them had stated their feelings explicitly.

He hadn’t helped himself any with his own indecision. All that concern about ethics… he was starting to wonder if that had just been his fear talking, an excuse not to put himself out on a limb, not to take a chance. Or was he now, in turn, just rationalizing away his ethics in order to try to get what he wanted?  

~And what do I want?~ he asked himself as he adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time. ~I’m not just trying to… to get in her pants.~ He blushed to even think that vulgar term. He’d be lying if he claimed to not be interested in that, but…

But, but, BUT… “I’m going to give myself a stroke if I keep thinking about this,” he said aloud, frowning at his reflection. Aura was his friend. He trusted her, and thinking about not having her in his life was just too difficult to contemplate. No matter what happened tonight, it was bound to, at least, be a pleasant evening with a dear friend. He glanced at his watch and nodded to himself.  He’d have to get going soon if he was going to make it to the farm by 6…

Just as he turned to pick up his building keys, the buzzer linked to the after-hours doorbell began to ring. He froze, listening to the harsh sound, not really registering it for a moment, then dropped his keys on the table in exasperation. Of course. OF COURSE there would be an emergency, right now. ~It had better be something damn serious,~ He thought irritably as he stomped down the stairs into the clinic, through the lobby to the front door, throwing it open with some force…

Only to find Aura standing on his doorstep, holding a large basket and looking a bit sheepish.

“Um… hey Harvey.” She looked a little disheveled, her hair escaping from what had probably once been an elegant twist at the back of her neck. Her red scarf was drooping off her shoulder and trailing in the slush on the street at her feet.  “I’ve… had some difficulties,” She said slowly, giving him a weak smile.

“Are you all right??” He exclaimed, pushing the door open wider so she could come in.

“Yeah… I’m fine except for… everything I had planned… being… completely… fucked…” She answered through gritted teeth, her forced cheerfulness fading with every word until she sounded near tears. “My piece of shit oven crapped out on me… sorry for swearing so much, I just… just…” Her shoulders started to shake and he quickly took the basket from her hands, setting it on the clinic’s front counter.

“Don’t worry about that, just… come on, let’s get you warm,” He said quickly, picking up her scarf as it finally fell off her shoulder.  “Where’s Buttercup?” Surely she hadn’t walked all the way from the farm...

“I-I walked…”

DAMN IT. He opened his mouth to scold her, but she continued to speak in a rapid, somewhat strained tone.

“…Buttercup threw a shoe earlier today… I took her to Marnie’s but she said the farrier couldn’t come until Tuesday… didn’t want to risk laming her.. that wasn’t even the first thing to go wrong today. First thing this morning Murphy brought in a… I don’t even know what it was, I swear it was the size of a raccoon… but he dropped it on me in bed and the fucking thing was still alive…  Then I dropped a preserve jar in the kitchen and the goddamn thing EXPLODED, I had cranberry jelly all over my kitchen AND ME, it was even in my hair…I swear, I’m going to start taking that bullshit fortuneteller on TV seriously, you know, she said it was a bad luck day when I got my ass kicked in the mines, too…”

“Why didn’t you just call and cancel?!” Harvey interrupted, aghast, as he pulled the door closed behind them. He tried to take her coat, but she waved him off.

“No way… I wasn’t going to leave you in the lurch on your birthday,” She said stubbornly. “So... I improvised.” She gestured impatiently at the basket on the counter while Harvey made a second attempt at taking her coat.  She evaded him, pacing the length of the counter and back.

“Aura, how do you think I’d feel if you… if you broke your ankle and fell into some snowbank and died of hypothermia or something?!” He asked crossly.

“I imagine you would resurrect me just so you could yell at me,” She sniffed and shrugged out of her coat, tossing it onto the counter.

She wore a simple long-sleeved red and black striped sweater-dress that hugged her body to just above her knees, with black leggings and little in the way of jewelry besides a silver chain that rested in the hollow of her throat.  On her feet she wore black boots, laced tightly to mid-calf. The outfit was so simple, but it looked amazing on her. He knew he was staring… and that he should stop… or at least say something…

“So…” Aura’s cheeks, already pink from the cold outside, flushed a bit brighter as she moved jerkily towards the basket on the counter. “I think… there’s something we should get out of the way, before this evening goes any further.”

“Oh…?” Harvey’s breath caught in his throat, and he had the curious sensation of standing on a precipice.

Aura’s hands trembled slightly as she opened the flaps at the top of the basket and reached inside, slowly drawing out… a bouquet? A sweet-smelling mass of purple, blue, silver and white. Purple and white crocus blooms were interwoven with bright blue crystal fruits and white snow yams, the whole thing secured with a wide dark-blue ribbon. She held it out towards him, her expression shy.

His heart skipped a beat.

Could it be…?

“I’ve been told that people around here declare… feelings… that is, romantic feelings… with a bouquet. I wasn’t sure at first… I mean, most places I’ve lived, people don’t really do flowers at all, let alone women giving them to men, but… I asked Marnie if it was true and she said it was.”

“You… talked to Marnie about this?” Harvey asked, his mouth going dry.

“Yeah. After I went home from the clinic,” She replied.  “Well… I knew if I bought a bouquet at Pierre’s, the whole town would know about it before… before the person I wanted to give it to. And it’s not like I didn’t have time to kill over the last week…”

“…I see…” The leaves shivered as his hands closed over hers. Her hands were trembling as much as his were.

“Harvey… I think it’s pretty obvious even without these flowers… how I feel about you. But, just in case it’s not, well… here they are.” Her silver eyes held his. “For awhile now I’ve felt like… like we’re holding ourselves back.  I don’t want to hold myself back anymore. But if you don’t want it, then... then we’ll say no more about it, ok?”

She tried to pull back, but Harvey’s hands reflexively tightened around hers.  He couldn’t speak, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go either.

“…Harvey?” She tilted her head slightly. “…Are you OK?” A thousand emotions and thoughts were clamoring in his mind, making it hard to focus.  This was everything he’d wanted for so long… he’d told himself, over and over, that it was wrong to wish, to hope, wrong to want her. The excuses varied from day to day, moment to moment. Either he wasn’t good enough for her because she deserved someone more handsome, or someone braver, or someone stronger… whatever way he felt inadequate that particular day. If it wasn’t that, then he told himself it would be ethically wrong, to hit on her while she was his patient… but it was all a way to keep a greater heartache at bay.

“Harvey, please… either reject me or…or don’t…” She whispered. Her silver eyes were shadowed with vulnerability.  He’d dreamed of her for so long… could he really hurt her now?

“Aura, I…” He cleared his throat. “…I’m not strong enough…”

“Oh, DAMN IT, Harvey…” She stomped her foot in frustration, but before she could say anything else, he pulled her to him, crushing the lovely bouquet between them. Purple petals scattered around them as he wrapped one arm around her, holding her against him, finally holding her like he’d wanted to for months, practically from the moment they met. They each still had one hand on the bouquet, now squished awkwardly between them, and Aura’s spare hand clutched at his shirt.

“I was going to say… I’m not strong enough… to pretend like this isn’t exactly what I wanted,” He said in a shaky voice. “I kept coming up with excuses as to why I couldn’t be with you… because I was so afraid…”

“Harvey…” She squeaked. “Ribs…”

“Oh…” another flurry of purple petals as he released her, his hands going to her side, anxiously probing her ribcage while she continued to awkwardly held the smashed bouquet at arm’s length.

“Harvey….Harvey.” Her free hand batted at his shoulder. “Trying to feel me up when you haven’t even kissed me yet?” A bit of her usual dry humor was back in her voice, though with a bit of a tremble to it. When he looked up, her silver gaze captured him again, and she smiled, brushing her fingers across his cheek, then trailing enticingly over his lips. “You have beautiful eyes, you know,” She told him softly. “Lovely hazel green…It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.”

Harvey wasn’t sure if he kissed her, or she him, but it seemed as if every nerve in his body came to life when her lips pressed to his, a deep thrill running up his spine and making him shiver all over. There was a soft rustle as she finally dropped the bouquet and wound her arms around his neck, pressing her chest into his. When they parted, they were both a little breathless, and he felt himself smiling so broadly it almost hurt.

“I guess… I’ll just have to take the bus to the city when I have the sniffles,” She said archly, resting her forehead against his. “Since you’re so hung up about having to be my doctor…”

“Aura….” There were so many things he wanted to say, that it was her eyes that had drawn him in at the beginning, that he’d dreamed of this moment for so long…

…That there were so many things he was still afraid of…

“Just… just don’t ever let yourself get hurt like that again… my heart can’t take it…” He finally answered, shaking his head and hugging her as tightly as he dared to. “Thinking I’d lost you… I’d never been so miserable…”

Aura let him hold her for another long moment, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’ll do my best… it’s not like I enjoyed having a brush with death,” she answered, voice muffled. Then she gave him another, lighter kiss, this time on his cheek. “Happy birthday, Harvey. I may not have been able to make the dinner I had planned, but I brought leftovers from yesterday and I just thought, well…. We could just be together for a little while?”

“I didn’t think this birthday could get any better…”  Harvey said as they stepped away from each other, hands tightly linked.  He looked down in regret at the pile of blue and purple petals scattered on the floor around them. “I’m so sorry about that though… it was so beautiful, it really was..”

“Maybe I’ll make you another next year…” She said as they both knelt to scoop up the fallen flora.  She fished out a crocus that had survived the tumble to the floor, still intact, turning it slowly in her fingers, then absently tucked it behind her ear. “Save these, though, the crystal fruit make for pretty decent wine. Waste not, want not.”

Harvey caught her hands again, turning them over to admire her long, strong fingers, tracing the callouses on her palms before tugging her to her feet. “Come on.. let’s just worry about the mess later. You’re probably starving.”

“But we can just…” She began, then shrugged. “OK, birthday boy… you’re the boss.”

In that moment, it seemed the light in her smile would keep him warm for the rest of the winter.

____

If you are interested in reading more, it can be found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158031/chapters/60962605

[art-now-india]

BOUQUET FOR YOU ONLY, Baljit Chadha

A Rose is a Rose is a Rose is a Rose (Gertrude Stein, from the poem Sweet Emily, Geography and Plays, 1913) A contemporary, timeless perspective of a subject dearly beloved to artists, poets, horticulturalists and beings throughout epochs, flora depictions range from botanical illustration (for example, the German Baroque naturalist and illustrator Maria Sybill Merian, d. 1717) to Old Master still-lives, from illuminated manuscripts and miniature paintings, to classic East Asian ink paintings, to Surrealism, Fauvism, to pop-art and graphic media. Flowers have always fascinated artists owing to their pureness, and provided a wonderful way for them to express themselves. Traditionally, flowers in life and in art imbue their appreciators with symbolic sense. The still-life in this day and age has lost much of its memento mori or vanitas meaning, and many contemporary artists shallowly forsake the intense discipline and attention to detail required by this genre for mere technical slights of hand and machine. Fortunately, there are still devotees of the love for the rose! In the floral work of Baljit Chadha, his pathway began with basic flowers, in pen and ink due to the inspiration of classic sumi-e (ink painting) during his sojourn in Japan. He understood this as the simple, basic embrace of nature –“to pluck a flower and paint it!” Pursuing this spirit further, he declares that “I do not believe in straight lines, rather a spontaneous use of colour.” He is more known in artistic circles to date in India for his abstract paintings. This series, thus introduces his 11,000 flower oeuvres. Earlier he added colour and then fexicol to bind the ink. Currently, he has incorporated the following materials into his process: watercolour, acrylic paint, as well as oil and wax pastels. This melange enables a broader depiction of the living element of his floral subjects, such that these blossoms spring to life off the standard sized Chinese imported paper upon which he steadfastly works. From the most mannered to the most abstract, passing through each field, medium, technique, genre and school of painting, the realms of flora bespeak individual expression. Such iconic images abound as the Iris and the Sunflowers by Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890), the Water Lilies of Claude Monet (1840-1926), the pop art flowers based on photographs with a simple motif by Andy Warhol (1928-1987), and fecund depictions by Georgia O’Keefe (1887-1986) who synthesized abstraction and representation in her myriad paintings of natural elements. One of the great painters of flowers, the Belgian painter Pierre-Joseph Redoute (1759- 1840), court painter for Marie Antoinette, eventually emphasized the aesthetic over botanical accuracy or depiction, having been inspired by the Dutch masters (Jan Breughel and Rachel Ruysch). Ruysch (1644-1750) was the most celebrated classical female flower painter. [For reference, the seminal tomes by Sam Segal of Flowers and Nature: Netherlandish Flower Painting of Four Centuries (1991) and Jan van Huysum, 1682-1749: The Temptation of Flora (2007)] In China, bird and flower painting constituted a special genre from the 9th century onwards, rising to great levels in the Song dynasty (960-1279 A.D.). It heralded a marvellous deployment of ink and brush. The individual finesse of the artist conveyed the spirit (qi) of plum blossoms, peonies, chrysanthemums, bamboo, pines and cypresses, each symbolic of aspects of existence. In 2004, the BBC Four hosted a four part series entitled Painting Flowers examined personal artistic themes associated with different species/genres of flora. The following year, the Flower Myth exhibition in Switzerland at the Fondation Beyeler examined the evolving approach to floral representation from the late 19th century to the present day. Ulf Küster, one of the two curators of the exhibition, maintains that "Any painter reveals his true self by painting flowers.” Chadha incorporates his personal embrace of abstraction within the depiction of the ‘divine flower’. Thereby extending the spatial component and fertilising the surrounding air with colour and stroke. His idiosyncratic method, reminiscent of spin/ action painting, is to squeeze the paint from plastic bottles. A pansy, gladiolas, lilies, asters, hyacinth, to cite but a few, each painting is unique. In spirit they are homage to Chadha’s passion to paint. Just as for the Old Master painters of still-lives and floral subjects, each flower imparts his personal connection and interpretation. The Mother of the Sri Aurobindo Society also penned a tome on the significance and meaning of flowers. Chadha earlier had photographed flowers all over the world, as part of his journeys and daily life. The kinetic nature of his paintings departs from the photographic lens. In consideration of the palette and use of materials, Chadha’s works bear a shimmering sensibility akin to that of stained glass, a sort of translucence reflecting his rhythm of life. One which he shares with the facets of nature he so consecrates on a daily basis, a true immersion in this realm of his natural imagination. For Chadha, this lexicon of intimate and universal beauty celebrates the diversity and complex, ever startling web of interconnectivity of life. At its core, a true marvelling of the adavaita, non-duality of humanity and the natural world which surrounds us, one which we must heed to protect and admire. Elizabeth Rogers February 2011

https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-BOUQUET-FOR-YOU-ONLY/392880/2600721/view

[alittleboo]

Aaaaaaah your comfort is Pol too? 🥺🥺 Im torn between Pol and Kak, i love them so much. I wanna slide in a little Polnareff request is thats cool! What about one where the reader tries to learn cute flirty things in French to impress Polnareff but messes up and says something unintentionally mean/dirty and gets all embarrassed because of it?

Hehehe, it got really out of hand. Writing in French...........FREEDOM! So yeah I maybe wrote too much French and will just make everyone feel lost, so yeah...I will add the translations at the end.🌹

And for comfort I must say «OH QUE OUI MA BELLE!»

Yet for the mean/dirty it was really hard to find out what it could be because we have a lot of dirty words in French that can be used alone or not and even then they are frequently used (because we are BAD PEOPLE) so they're not that “dirty” anymore…? Like you can't use it in a very dirty way without knowing it except if you're just really naive. So I picked the worst typical French word from France and used it. Sorry French people, the Canadian here sympathizes with you.

Oh non! L’embarras!

⊹₊ ⋆ Jean-Pierre Polnareff x Reader ꜜ

Requests are opened! 1 in waiting list!

Word count : 209 words

Now would be a pretty good time to send me out your requests.

Remember to go check out the new guidelines first!

-ˏˋ⋆ Little reminder ⋆ˊˎ-

❏. (y/n) ; your name

❏. (l/n) ; your last name

❏. (e/c) ; your eye colour

❏. (h/c) ; your hair colour

❏. (h/l) ; your hair length

❏. (s/c); your skin colour

Love came along with pain, but the most bright and charming pain of all. Such a rough and hard feeling was what ended up bringing pure bliss.

“Je t’aime tant, ” (1) whispered the one that gained such a precious place within your heart. You smiled warmly at his sweet words, the few words you knew in his native language. You leaned closer and rested your head on his muscular shoulder. “You know, I started learning some French.”

“Oh? It’s not an easy one to learn you know?” You nodded. “Oui je sais, ” (2) you responded with the worst pronunciation. He tittered. You lift up your head, jumped away and took a clearly faked insulted expression. “Comment oses-tu!? Ma prononciation est parfaite!” (3)

“There is some space for improvement ma chérie.” (4) You winked teasingly. “Whatever you say!”

“Say, you began, gaining his attention, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“What does baiser comme des lapins means?” His blues eyes widened like never, his cheeks getting so red it seemed like he wasn't breathing. “J-Je te demandes pardon?” (5)

“W-What? What does it mean?”

“Basically rough sex.” It was now your turn to blush crazily. “OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY!”

⊹₊ ⋆ Other accounts reminder ꜜ

MHA @lilazcream ✦ Danganronpa @milky11037 ✦ One Piece @mizghostie

(1) I love you so much. (2) Yeah I know.

(3) How dare You? My pronunciation is perfect!

(4) My dear / my love (5) I beg you pardon?

[imagineforyourminds]

You had settled down well at Rydell. The teachers admired you for your academic excellence; whereas the students adored your kind personality, not to mention your captivating looks. However, it came as a surprise when you turned down the opportunity to attend the cheerleader try outs, which added the word unpredictable to one of the adjectives people would describe you with. The cheerleaders didn’t hold any grudges against you to popular belief, if anything it made you better friends with the school’s do-gooder Patty Simcox; now that you weren’t a threat to take attention off of her at future prep rally’s. You could understand why the student body had mixed opinions about the enthusiastic blonde; however, you were your own person and based your opinions of people on actual interactions with them, not rumours. Hence why Patty had become a dear friend to you. This didn’t sit well with your other friends though, the pink ladies. The iconic female empowered clique had heard about the new girl whom had everyone’s heads spinning and took it upon themselves to invite you to accompany them on their excursions. Many wondered why such a sweet being would associate herself with girls like them. Truth was that you enjoyed their company and humour. They only thing you didn’t particularly enjoy about them was when they tormented Patty, especially when they convinced the guys to join in as well. Kenickie was by far the worst out of the T Birds when it came to mean antics towards your friend. Ever since your first day witnessing him torment Eugene alongside the others, you tried to avoid him as best as you could. Due to his and Rizzo’s chaotic relationship though, avoiding him was extremely hard.

You were currently late to your biology class, but had a note from your previous teacher giving you the all clear. As you entered the room all eyes were on you, however not wanting to come across nervous or intimidated, you smiled and handed Mr. Jones the notes before taking your seat next to Patty.

“Hiya Honey, how was French? I feel like we should travel to Paris, meet two handsome French men called Pierre and Francoise who we could have beautiful multilingual children with.” Patty smiled her pearly white teeth towards you. You laughed at how enthusiastic she always was.

“It was good thanks, and that definitely sounds like a plan. Has it been eventful in here, or slow as usual?” You asked back whilst taking your notepads and pens out for note taking.

“Well the actual lecture is dreading slowly by as usual, however I have discovered that I have an admirer in this class which will hopefully help the time fly by.” She sighed whilst dreamingly gazing towards the right corner of the room. You looked up to see Kenickie waving at Patty and her waving back. Times like this is when you disliked how naïve the girl could be. What Patty didn’t notice was the rest of the T Birds snickering around the boy. You instantly knew this was bad. Kenickie pointed down to his bag, signalling for Patty to check inside hers. She let out a small giggle as she did, only to shriek with fear as a frog leaped out at her. The poor girl ran out of the classroom of fear, as everyone else laughed at her embarrassment. You hated it, pure rage for the guys and disappointment for all your classmates. You picked the frog up and placed it back inside its tank before following your friend. But before you did you walked straight up to the T Birds and slapped Kenickie across his right cheek. The painful noise caused the whole room to silence within the space of a millisecond.

“What the actual F-“ Kenickie stood up so now he was looming over you, pure rage and shock expressed in his eyes. Before he could finish the sentence you pushed him harshly back away from you.

“No! Patty should be the one saying that Kenickie! What the hell is wrong with you? Matter of fact What the hell is wrong with all of you? Laughing at a poor girls expense, when she’s done absolutely nothing wrong. It’s disgusting, you’re all Disgusting” You yelled at the class, tears brimming at your eyes for the pain of your friend, and the fact that you couldn’t stop it before it happened. Nobody could see the tears apart from Kenickie whom had the feeling of guilt build up inside him. He thought it would be a funny joke, not something you’d get so upset about. You left the room hoping everyone would start to rethink their actions. Your managed to get down the third corridor before you heard rushed steps behind you.

“Y/n Wait!” Kenickie had followed after you much to your disappointment. You ignored him and carried on.

“I said wait!” The tall boy exclaimed as he took hold of you arm trying to turn you towards him.

“What?” You asked as you pulled your arm away from his. He stood there and it was the first time you had seen him in such an awkward stance, not knowing what to do.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would be a funny joke. “He started; you just rolled your eyes at him.

“How can I make it up to you?” he asked taking a step closer to you.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, I’m not the one whose crying in the toilets because the guy she likes pulled a mean prank embarrassing her, because he thought it would be.” You said as you stared into his eyes. What made you feel worse is that right at this moment you couldn’t stop thinking at how attractive the guy before you is.

“I’ll apologize to her, for fucks sake I’ll apologize in front of the whole class. Just please let me make it up to you.” He said quietly as her got closer to you taking hour hands in his. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized how close he was, and the fact that the corridor was empty didn’t help your nerves either. But just in that instant the image of Patty running out of the classroom crying kept replaying through your head, and you found a way for him to repay both you and patty.

“You can repay me by inviting patty out for a date. A real date, no prank.” You said knowing her friend had always had a schoolgirl crush on the T Bird. Patty would appreciate it, even though secretly wished he would have just kissed you right in that moment.

[secretradiobrooklyn]

Shroud of Pigeon | 12.5.20

Secret Radio | 12.5.20 | Hear it here.

1. Yos Olarang - title unknown

This is a real score in my book. Generally known as Yol Aularon, this guy is Cambodia’s greatest rock musician, turning out garage rock that knows no equal in America or anywhere else, in my opinion. I tracked down this song on a tape attributed to “Yol Aularon” which includes his big hit, “Cyclo,” but also this song which I haven’t heard on any other collections. Honestly, though, I may yet run across it in a prominent collection, because I have no way of figuring out the title — every bit of the text I can find is in Cambodian. In any case, we LOVE this track! It’s almost like a catalog of Olarang’s laughs: there’s a merry snort, a giggle, and a malevolent cackle all built into the melody. I believe he’s the blazing lead guitarist as well. It’s just such a perfect gem of pure rock energy.

2. Gedou - “Scent” (I think)

Speaking of pure rock energy — DAMN, SAM! This was our introduction to Gedou, a blasting burst of Japanese glam rock whose costumes match the sounds you hear here. These guys were only originally active from ’73-’76, and then got back together sporadically after that; I believe this is from that original lineup. It’s well worth it to check the live video that this comes from. It’s an electric thrill just to see them leaning back to back, singing into the same mic, doing kicks and losing their minds in shining kimonos and silk hiphuggers. It feels like a Japanese MC5 whose wardrobe directly influenced David Bowie. One note I read says that they were popular with Japanese biker gangs at the time — and there are certainly bikes aplenty in the video. I’m looking forward to finding out more about the impact they had in Japan, and whether they made an impression in the rest of the world. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHfBhJsqrD8

3. Clothilde - “Saperlipopette”

What a strange little slab of chamber pop! Clothilde was barely even a one-hit wonder in France — she released two 45s in 1967 and, as far as I know, that was it. But what a song! It’s like a vanful of pop records crashed into a classical instrument shop. I especially dig the xylophone or whatever that is back there — hardly necessary given the hyperactive harpsichord, but it takes the poppy flavor right over the top. So many bands have tried to get to this level of fizz, but I’ve never heard it succeed like this!

- King Kong - “Ten Long Years”

Slint is one of indie rock’s most unimpeachably cool bands, which makes the silliness of King Kong all the more endearing. Band leader Ethan Buckler was the original bassist in Slint, and all of the Slint lineup got into the act at one point or another. In 1995 Drag City released King Kong’s “Me Hungry,” a sort of funky concept album about a caveman, his yak, and an inhospitable world. Sean Nelson and I spent many not-sober nights enjoying that record — “I push em out, I push em out” — and got to see them play the Crocodile Cafe. I definitely remember appreciating how groovy King Kong was, like Neanderthal B-52s. Butler even looked a bit like a shaved caver. 

4. Star Feminine Band - “Femme Africaine”

Born Bad is our new favorite label, right up there with Analog Africa. They’re based in France, and release music both archival and new. Star Feminine Band is based in Benin, home to so much of our favorite music. It’s definitely worth watching the video for this song just to see how young and full of potential the girls in the band are. They were assembled in a School of Rock sort of situation, taught to play instruments and encouraged to write lyrics. The lyrics of this song are so directly uplifting it’s enough to put a lump in the throat. Meanwhile, the music is such a pleasure to listen to! The whole album is full of good stuff, but this song is pretty much their theme song. It translates to: 

“Oh woman, African woman

Oh woman, Beninese woman

Black woman, get up, don't sleep

You can become president of the republic

You can become prime minister of the country

Get up, something must be done

African woman, be independent

The country needs us, go to school

Africa needs you, you have to work

The world needs us, let's stand up we'll defend

African woman, be independent”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdDp6VAXXbk

5. Young Signorino - “Mmh Ha Ha Ha”

A few years ago a friend posted the video for this song on FB with a note that was like, “Ever see something you should hate but you can’t stop watching?” I watched it, watched it again… and watched it again. It eventually slipped out of my mind, but I was thrilled to remember it the other day in the context of WBFF. The song’s language, such as it is, is Italian, but it also just fits perfectly into the post-language mix that has been turning our cranks lately. I’m really glad to get a chance to present it here first as a piece of music, because the video really affects the experience. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9bf4PT-aEk

6. Yura Yura Teikoku - ゆらゆら帝国で考え中  “Yura Yura Keikoku de Kangaechuu” (I think?)

This is another sweet find in a broadcast full of em! Yura Yura Teikoku is a trio formed in 1989 and have a huge rep in Japan as a psychedelic band, but apparently by 2000 they were crafting super-awesome pop songs that rocked hard. The video of this song features a singer with adorably mussed hair and a striped shirt against an orange background, looking super hip and on top of the world. From what I’ve read they were gigantic in Japan but utterly unknown outside, which changed a bit when they played New York in 2007 and again a year later, to packed houses. But that didn’t seem to do the trick, and they finally broke up in 2010. They have several good songs from this period, but this one, from a three-song 45, is the one that has hooked us the hardest so far. We can’t seem to find out even what the song title is, but as far as I can tell the band’s name translates to The Wobbling Empire, and the song title is “Thinking in the Wobbling Empire.” It’s bizarre to us that this kind of hip tight rock didn’t find a way into the bigger world… but I guess singing in Japanese was the deciding factor. Really glad to have uncovered it though!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9CM44MohAs

7. Can - “Mother Sky”

I know a lot of bigger Can fans than me, but this track has so much of what we love in the drones, the freakouts, the lockdowns, the Engl-ish vocals, the long climb towards the climax… it feels sometimes like flying, sometimes like swimming, sometimes like burrowing deeper and deeper downwards.

8. Señor Coconut - “Showroom Dummies”

Can and Kraftwerk share enough DNA that they seem like a natural pairing. But… Señor Coconut’s version of this classic track of “Trans-Europe Express” is honestly my preferred version of the song. It sounds so sincere and strange, and I find myself thinking about the lives of mannequins even as I also hear the palm leaves switching in the breeze. The album “El Baile Aleman” — “German Dance” — was released in 1999, and apparently Kraftwerk was fine with it. Thank goodness. 

- Lithics - “A Highly Textured Ceiling”

Every time I hear this track I think of Six Finger Satellite’s “The Pigeon Is the Most Popular Bird,” a crucial album for me. I learned about all of these tones for the first time from that record. I’ma write more about this band in a sec, when they show back up. 

9. Schwervon! - “American Idle” 

Years ago Mike Appelstein hipped us to Schwervon!, a two-piece band who were about to make the opposite journey of our own eventual path, moving from NYC to Missouri — in their case Kansas City. They turned out to be lovely individuals and an instant favorite band, and we hosted them whenever they came through STL. Their album “Courage” plays like a lost ’90s classic, and “American Idle” is one of the best tracks on there. The production of the album, by Matt Mason, is straight-up enviable. As is so often the case, good people have good friends, and they led us to Jeffrey Lewis, who has been a pleasure to get to know better since we made our own way east last year. I don’t think Matt and Nan are writing songs together anymore, but we’re glad that they did. 

10. Boney M. - “Rasputin”

I saw this song peeking at me from my computer now and then, but didn’t check it out til recently. What a complete banger! The lyrics are absolutely fantastic — “Rah! Rah! Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine, it was a shame how he carried on!” — but so is the production… and the video, for that matter. Apparently this was a hit track in 1978. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding disco, though, so I had no idea. I love how the narrative weight shifts from the lead male voice to the chorus voices. It’s such a strange read of Rasputin’s life and death — the unkillable Casanova of Russia!

11. Rafaella Carrá - “Festa”

Did I mention that I used to hate disco? Well, this is my big comeup. We’ve been dabbling in disco on WBFF here and there, but this pairing is meant strictly for the dancefloor! This is the original Italian version, but Carrá became a massive hit in Spain and recorded most of her songs in Spanish as well. Obviously, the Spanish influence is strong in this song’s amazing flamenco claps and trumpet passages. 

12. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou Benin et Loko Pierre - “Djo Mi Do”

There’s nowhere to go from disco but back to our prime fascination: Tout Puissant! This album is a collaboration with saxophonist Loko Pierre, and every track hits hard. But this track’s chorus, “djo mi do, djo mi do!” is such a gotdamn hook! This band continues to surprise and reward the deeper we dig into their catalog, and I feel like we’re still just getting started. So funky and fresh every time.

The chorus makes me think of a song we first heard on KDHX about a decade ago — “Dominos,” by The Big Pink. I really liked the hook of the song but loathed the cold-blooded lyrics, so I found myself hating it. You know how it is. I’m really glad to find a song that can replace it in my head — and it’s a way better song!

13. Bruno Leys - “Hallucinations”

Credit to Born Bad records once again for this song. It’s a true rarity. Bruno Leys fell in with some fellow students in Paris in 1967 including a guy named Emmanuel Pairault, who was obsessed with an instrument called the ondes Martenot, which is a very very early electronic instrument that works a little like a theremin — though it’s played by wearing a ring on one finger and sliding it along a wire, depressing the wire to change the note — but has a crazy range of sounds. The instrumental hook in this song, as well as the backing notes, are on the onde Martenot. Leys co-wrote and recorded four songs with the band, they got signed up with a label, released a 7”, then he had to leave for compulsory military service… and by the time he got back two years later there was no band and no label. The 7” was practically unobtainable til this year, when Born Bad records finally released it anew. I hope Leys is still alive to appreciate that it finally made its way into the world!

- The Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

14. Troubadour Dali - “Spirit of ’67”

Oh, Troubadour… Sleepy Kitty shared a label with Troubadour Dali for several years, and we were big fans of their whirling swirling psychedelia. They had a couple of chicks (I think they’d approve of the word) projecting old-school colored oil-and-water light effects on the band, and when they were on, they looked and felt like the greatest band in the land. Troubadour went through an impressive number of players over the years, and there was generally some sort of drama or mayhem going on — not too surprising for a band who loved Brian Jonestown Massacre. The main songwriter was a lanky, handsome fella named Ben, though there were also great songs by Kevin and, every once in a great while, a powerful contribution by a quiet, snappy dresser named Benjamin. Benjamin apparently put this recording together entirely on his own. When he showed it to the band they flipped out — it’s obviously a winner — and they quickly got together a live version of it. Man, it tore the house down every time. At some point, though, in the midst of some of that drama, Benjamin started to kind of slip sideways out of the band. As they were finishing up their second full length, he declined to let the band record this song, or to make the demo available, despite their pleas. Eventually they went forward without it, and I don’t know what happened to Benjamin but I do know that Paige happened to rediscover her copy of “Spirit of ‘67″ recently, tucked into a stack of burned CDs. We’re very glad to get to drop this very special song into this secret radio mix.

- The Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

Rare Italian instrumental noodles from the mid ’70s.

15. The Velvet Underground - “After Hours”

*Not ruined. Affected, but not ruined. She said so. 

16. Jean Cussac in “Le Livre de la Jungle” - “Etre un homme comme vous”

One musical adventure we’ve really enjoyed is checking out familiar musicals in unfamiliar tongues. And though you may not think of Disney’s “Jungle Book” as a musical, you’d be mistaken. This version of “I Want to Be Like You” is a particular delight. It plays straight with the original, but the presence of the French language inflects the rhythms with a Parisian flavor that I’d never noticed before.

17. Duch Kim Hak - “Neary Sok Khley”

Another hit from the Cambodian treasure chest. Paige noted as we listened the first time, “This one has good chords,” and we took to referring to it as Cambodian ska. I think it’s meant to be a simple twist song, but there’s a royal quality to the chords that really puts it above a straightforward dance novelty. And his vocal delivery is ace!

18. The Fall - “Terry Waite Sez”

Not much needed on this one! This is one in a host of classics from 1986’s “Bend Sinister.” The Brix E. period of The Fall is just the BEST. 

19. Twiggy - “When I Think of You”

Paige: “I was made aware of this record by The Deccas [a band she briefly sang with in Chicago]. They knew every single girl group song that had ever been recorded. This was the same band where the guy who was obsessed with Scott Walker and looked like him and his house was very /60s and he had a word processor. I didn’t even know what a word processor was. That’s unrelated to this song though. She’s one of the great singing models — and maybe next week we’ll play another one. There are three known.”

- Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

20. Hallelujah Chicken Run Band - “Alikulila” 

SO happy to have this album on vinyl at last! It was just released in this format, and Analog Africa is always so good at including notes about the album’s genesis. These guys are from Zambia, and they pioneered the translation of mbira parts into guitar parts, while writing these amazing songs that I’ve never heard anything like. Except for one. One of their songs sounds a bit like a Bound Stems song. Which is weird, because obviously we’d never heard them when we wrote “Cloak of Blue Sky.” It just proves to me that they were both way ahead of their time and working in an idiom that could and should be hit music today. It sounds so alive and creative and insightful, like good indie rock should. 

21. Lithics - “Snake Tattoo / Twisting Vine”

Lithics is one of my favorite contemporary bands. They played Foam in St. Louis like five years ago, right after I’d discovered their existence via the excellent album “Borrowed Floors.” Foam was a tiny little club that fit maybe 50 people and was sure to go apeshit for this show. I was SO psyched to be there… but the night of, we couldn’t get out because we were staying out in the Illinois woods and it was snowing enough to make the return trip too treacherous. As much as that’s one of the main shows of my life I wish I’d seen, I’m glad that Brad got to see them and tell me about it later. I hope I can catch them in NYC.

22. Sunny Blacks Band - “Mission spéciale”

OK, I admit that I’m obsessed with Melome Clement — or Meloclem, as he is known by some in Benin. He’s the composer of hundreds of T.P. Orchestre songs, and I’ve written about him a ton. I know he plays some horns and I believe he plays the slashing guitar that you hear in this track. I don’t think that’s him singing but I’m not sure; his voice is very malleable. Sunny Blacks Band is the group he was playing with when the T.P. Orchestre guys found him. It’s hard music to track down, but I love how much it rocks — or “jerks,” as they said at the time. We’ve also played the track “Holonon Die” on here and it jerks too, with an extended, wild electric guitar solo over pulsing trap and hand drums. What a freakin powerhouse Meloclem is.

23. Betti-Betti - “La Vie de Bettie Bettie Chanteuse Camerounaise”

This recording is a beautiful mystery. It appears in a film called “Badiaga,” which I encountered while looking for music by Betti-Betti, a superstar within her nation of Cameroon. This comes from one of the final scenes in the movie. There are different summations of the film (we don’t understand the language of the film itself), but apparently the story is “inspired by” the story of Betti-Betti, who was discovered as a child wandering in a marketplace, brought up extremely poor and eventually sang (a cappella?) on the radio, whereupon she became an instant success. She played constant shows and played with many of the region’s heaviest hitters, including T.P. Orchestre (they recorded an album together, which is how we found out about her). As for this recording — I don’t know if this is sung by Betti-Betti or by the actress playing her. And I don’t know the male character singing alongside her, though I’m guessing he’s a real-life music figure himself. It’s a beautiful duet, rich with feeling, and the performance footage throughout the movie is electrifying. 

P.S. This film is also how I found out about Eko Roosevelt, whose “Me To a Dey My Own” is an epic upbeat number we’ve played on WBFF!

24. Guided By Voices - “The Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory”

A perfect song, meant for the opposite of social distancing: to be sung full-bore in a crowd with one’s arms slung around sweating strangers, straight into the face of the band (I’ll be the one hooting the recorder part). This is how legends are made. 

 - Janko Nilovic & Soul Surfers - “Maze of Sounds”

I love the bass part on this album as much as the album artwork, which we will surely have included somewhere around here. This guy’s story is pretty interesting: he was born in Istanbul to a Montenegrin father and Greek mother, and his career started by working with French singer Davy Jones (but not THAT Davy Jones) in 1967. He got into recording for sound libraries, working in soul and funk and psych music, gained a serious composing rep and eventually, maybe inevitably, his music started getting sampled by the likes of Dr. Dre and Jay Z. Not bad, not bad!

25. Gnonnas Pedro et Ses Dadjes - “La Musica en Verité”

Maybe someday we’ll release the version of this song that we recorded in the early days of the pandemic. This is the final track (if not the final song) on the immortal “Legends of Benin” album on Analog Africa. My favorite aspect is how the guitar plays the same mesmerizing piece throughout, but the percussion evolves over the course of the song until it has gradually changed completely. It’s a subtle dynamic but it’s a master clinic in how to run a drone song the right way. Also, that organ part is just beautiful.

[stardew-imagines-me]

Do you have any headcannons on sebastian with ginger hair? Or any of the townspeople who dye their hair for that matter?

Yes!! TONS!!! A LOT!!! SO MANY!!!! I LOVE HAIR HEADCANONS, I AM ONLY A FOOL, DEAR ANON!!!!!!

• Abigail and Sebastian often dye their hair together or with Abigail’s mom - Caroline being the master of boxed hair dyes and powdered bleach

- Usually while Sebastian sits with a shower cap on his head, hair bleaching, Sam will be laying on Abigail’s bed munching away on a chocolate bar while Abigail finishes putting pink highlights in his hair

• Because of the band their all in, Sam loves putting stripes of pink, black and blue in his hair. He always waves Abigail’s insistence that he’s a scene kid with a mouth full of chips and a small grunt

• Robin insists that Sebastian let his hair stay it’s natural orange but because Demetrius hates the black so much, he continues to bleach and dye out of spite

- Maru always smirks when he comes back home from Abigail’s, hair freshly touched up and fingers tinted the black dye he used

• Emily is a natural blonde, but prefers her hair an electric blue out of pure self expression. Haley is always the one that touches up her hair when Emily asks, and over the years, Haley herself became very skilled at root touch up

- sometimes if Haley feels up to it and there’s extra dye left, she’ll use that to make a stripe of blue in her hair and braid it to the side

• Maru tints her hair when she has time. Usually a dark brown, she’ll ask if Abigail has any extra hair dye and have her mix it into a dark magenta

- it’s not too noticeable, but you can definitely see the tint in the sunlight. And usually Maru uses dyeing her hair as an excuse to visit with Abigail more

- while she genuinely enjoys time with Abigail, she finds that she can connect more with her brother in the way she wants

• Caroline often sits with Jodi and Robin after she puts on her green hair dye, gossiping and talking about their kids - it’s an an unusual occurrence for Pierre’s shop to smell like coffee and freshly baked sweets

- one time Evelyn felt a little adventurous herself and asked if Caroline could dye her hair pink. Not permanent, just temporary

- that night and weeks after, little old Evelyn walked around town with bright pink hair and a proud wrinkled smile

[loversandantiheroes]

I was listening to my rainy day playlist and when this came out, I kinda pictured your Harvey playing this on piano for the farmer Flax. Not singing, cause it has the L word in the lyrics and he can't say it yet. But even if he can't say it, I think its lyrics suits him and his feelings quite well:) (tumblr won't let me put a link in here, but it's "The way you look tonight", Tony Bennett version)

This is very sweet and also calls for a minific.

——————————————-

“You’re sure this is alright?”

Emily flaps a hand at him.  “Of course it’s alright.  Besides, as far as I know the only other person in town who has a piano is Elliot, and sweet as he may be when you can actually get his attention, I really doubt he’d warm to this idea of someone sat in his living room tickling his ivories.”

She offers a smile as she swipes a rag over the top of the old upright in the corner of the bar, kicking up a little dust.

“Besides,” she adds, fanning the air in front of her, “Gus clearly isn’t using it.”

Harvey chews his lip, lifting the lid.  “Any idea when it was last tuned?”

“Hm.  Not that long.  Four months?  Five, maybe?  Though I expect that’s just about the last time anybody’s laid hands on this poor girl.”

Tentatively, Harvey finds middle C, hoping for a clear note and not an off-tune warble.  Or worse, a thunk.  But the note rings out, pitch-perfect as far as his ears can tell, and he smiles a little.

“I’m surprised you have time for this,” Emily says, leaning against the piano as he eases himself onto the bench.  There’s a knowing grin on her face.  “I thought your lunch hour was booked from here to eternity.”

Harvey only raises an eyebrow and tries to pretend his face doesn’t immediately flush hot.  “I…it’s a busy week.  I’ve got some free time.”

He doesn’t mean it to come out quite as dejected as it does.  But there it is.  He can’t even bear to look at whatever expression that has brought to Emily’s face.

“You miss her already,” she says, a bit too gleeful for his liking.

He mumbles something, very possibly in agreement, and begins digging in his satchel for his sheet music.  “Sort of why I’m here.  Not just the free time, I mean, of course that’s why…I….  I used to play,” he says, stumbling lamely into the point as he so often does.  He takes a deep breath, holds it until his head starts to swim a little, then lets it out in a rush.  “I want to see if I still can.  Or can pick it back up.”

“For her?”

“For me,” he says, a small, considering crease in his brow.  “But for her, too.”

Another thing he can’t quite find the angle to unpack.  How much she makes him want to chase after the things he once loved.  To throw himself at them, half-reckless, to try and reclaim them.  For the chance to prove to himself that he could do it.  Even the things that terrify him.  Especially the things that terrify him.

“Well, would you want a hand with that?” Emily offers, startling him out of his thoughts.  She is, he realizes a bit belatedly, pointing at the music book in his hands.  “I’ve got plenty of experience from high school.  Can’t sing for the life of me, so most days in music class I just turned sheet music for the teacher.”

“Oh, I…y-you don’t have to,” he says, awkwardly clutching the book.  “I don’t want to get you in any more trouble with Gus than I already am.”

Emily only laughs.  “Please, I couldn’t get in trouble with Gus if I tried.  He’s so much of a softie he can’t even bring himself to make people settle their bar tabs half the time.  Besides that, he’s got his hands full right now.  Willy’s got his crab magic going again and dropped off a huge basket full of the little snippers.  We’d both prefer it if I wasn’t there for it.”

Rather reluctantly, Harvey gives up his death grip on the music book.

At the sight of the cover, Emily’s face lights up like a Winter Star tree.

“The Way You Look Tonight.  Bless your heart,” she says, and for once the phrase doesn’t ring of a thinly veiled insult.  “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”

Harvey blanches, fumbling the book away from her and setting it against the stand.

“Oh.”  The levity’s gone now.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that word was so…” she pauses, and he can feel her eyes tracking him and Yoba he wishes she would stop looking at him.  

“Sharp,” she finishes.

“It’s fine,” he says, too curtly.

“Your aura’s gone all bubblegum.”

“I- what?”  He blinks up at her, in the moment suddenly too confused to remember to be upset.

“Your aura,” Emily says, wiggling her fingers a few inches over his head.  “Pure pink.  I struck a nerve.  I didn’t mean to.”

“My aura.  Right.”  And suddenly he remember it is Emily he’s talking to, or, closer to the point, being a bit of an asshole to, and his puffed up anxiety bubble deflates just a bit.  “Sorry.  I, uh, I suppose I’m usually chartreuse,” he says with an attempt at a smile.

“Kind of brown, actually,” she says musingly.  “Brown and yellow, like old gold.  But you’ve got this mix of red and pink and orange going on these days,” she adds this with a knowing smile, as if it’s some secret that only the two of them are in on, and he can only smile back, completely baffled.

“Well that’s…good?  I hope?”

“It would strongly suggest you are that thing I said that I won’t repeat again.”

“Thank you,” he says.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Apology accepted.”  She leans in, opening the booklet and patting him on the shoulder.  “It also means the sex must be amazing, so congratulations.”

Harvey swears, covering his face and nearly sliding off the piano bench in embarrassment.

“You’re almost as bad as she is,” he mutters through his hands as she laughs.

“And you’re not even going to ask?”

He uncovers his face, which he knows has to be blisteringly red.  “Ask what?”

“What color her aura is?”

Emily raises her eyebrows, the offer dangling.

“Alright, alright.  I’ll bite, why not?  What color is her aura?”

She smiles, big and broad.  “The girl is a bonfire.  Red-orange.  Bright as anything.”

“I see,” he says.  He doesn’t.  “And red, that’s…?”

Emily’s smile softens.  “That thing I said that I won’t repeat again.”

“Oh.”

Harvey falls quiet.  He doesn’t quite believe in auras.  Not in a fashion that has any real weight.  And it isn’t as though he doesn’t know how she feels.  That he hasn’t seen the look in her eyes when she’s nearly said the words he has to dance around, or said something in surrogate.  But that someone else could look at her and see it, see that in her face, and know it was for him.

Auras or no auras, that’s something.

Harvey rubs the tip of one ear, smiling unconsciously.  “We should get started.”

There’s a moment of mortal terror as he lays his hands on the keys.  How long has it even been since he’s done this?  Ten years?  Longer, surely.  The lessons stopped when he was seventeen, but he vaguely remembers noodling around on borrowed keyboards in college once or twice after a few too many drinks.

He takes a breath.  Fumbles his position.  Plays the first chord.

The world, he is relieved to find, does not implode.

It’s clumsy.  He has to start over twice after his hands shake so hard he can’t quite keep his fingers on the keys properly.  But it’s nerves more than rust, he finds, and by the time his phone starts blaring the end of his lunch hour, he’s made it fully to the end of the song twice.

“Thank you,” he tells Emily as he packs up.  “For the help and for your patience.  I can’t imagine that was too kind on your ears.”

“Harvey, I’ve heard Gus singing along to Carmen, I have been tempered in fire,” she says with a laugh.  “And you’ve got some pretty solid skill, you’ll knock the rust out in no time.”

He smiles, dipping his head.  “Thank you.”

“Coming back tomorrow?”

Harvey nods, sucking in a breath.  “I think I can probably squeeze in a rush through before…um…” he gestures vaguely in the direction Pierre’s lies.

“Aerobics?”

He makes a choked sound in agreement.

“Does she know you’re-”

“No!” he says, mortified.  “I mean, Yoba, I hope she doesn’t.  I don’t have much pride, but I’d rather not sacrifice the last shred of it by telling her the only reason I can… keep up with her is because I spend Tuesdays Sweatin’ To The Oldies.”

“You really think it’d make a difference to her?” Emily asks, eyebrows raised.

Harvey frowns, thinking of her face.  The way she laughs when he’s done something ridiculous that she somehow finds endearing.  His shoulders drop an inch.

“Maybe not.”

From his back pocket, his phone blares off another warning.

“Right, sorry, I have to go.  Thank you, again, for, for you help and I uh-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harvey,” Emily finishes helpfully.

“Yes.  Right.  That,” he stammers, fumbling his book back into the bag.  “See you tomorrow.”

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Wednesday, 18th September/Thursday, 19th September 2019 – Restaurant a l’Echevin, Colmar

As part of the deal at the Hostellerie Le Maréchal we had two night’s dinners included (not three, no matter what the young man on reception when we checked in insisted) and although you never know what you might get when it comes to hotel restaurants, in what is clearly paradise for gourmets, Alsace and the restaurant A l’Échevin did not let us down. The first night we drank a glass of local crémant in the bar first, alongside a snack of some rather wonderful pastry straws that were as light as you could wish, which suggested that at least their pastry chef was up to speed.

We then moved into the restaurant and were pleased to be shown to our table (Table 2 apparently) in the long, narrow dining room that overlooked the waters of La Lauch and the barques moored outside. We were slightly less pleased with the acoustics that meant we could hear every word issuing from the irritating couple on the table behind ours (Table 1) but that’s not the hotel’s fault! We were on a set menu with matching wines as part of the deal that the hotel had offered so the decision making process had been largely taken away from us. Now to see if the rest of the brigade could cook as well as the pastry chef. An amuse-bouche of a foie gras paté and an apricot sorbet suggested the answer to that question might well prove to be “yes”.

The menu itself started with what was listed as “Presskopf” of smoked haddock and smoked trout, basically the chef’s take on a regional speciality, brawn, but with fish and not the more usual meat. It was light, delicate, the jelly perfectly set and the herbs just providing a lift of flavour to counteract the oily fish. There were tiny chunks of vegetable alongside the chunks of trout and haddock and it not only looked lovely, it was lovely.

Fillet of pike-perch cooked in Riesling, with mangetout turned out to be a perfectly executed piece of fish, the skin crisp and golden, sitting on top of a bed of mangetout, with a puddle of creamy Riesling inflected sauce. Throw in the odd micro-herb and enjoy! It was also a perfect excuse to rip off a piece of the brilliant bread roll and dunk it in the leftover sauce afterwards. The kitchen was having none of that back!

With both the fish dishes we drank a 2018 Alsace Pinot Blanc from Pierre Henri Ginglinger. The wine comes from a blend of Pinot Auxerrois from different parcels, harvested by hand and fermented over several months before being aged on fine lees. It’s a bright yellow in color, with white-fleshed fruit aromas, and peach notes. We liked it enough to make a note of it and to consider whether we needed to visit the Ginglinger domaine. While we pondered that question, the meat course arrived, a serving of leg of deer with cranberries, cross-border pasta specialty spaetzlés (as the French appear to spell it) and fromage blanc. The meat was cooked to perfection, as were the vegetables and to add a fillip to what might have seemed quite a restrained plate, there was also a “pastilla” full of slow cooked meat to enjoy alongside the pink cooked flesh that we’d been expecting. It was all beautifully executed and we knew we’d made a good choice to eat in the hotel.

A serving of perfectly kept Munster cheese from a local farm came next and was just the thing to help us finish off the red wine, a 2017 Alsace Pinot Noir “Les Princes Abbés” from Domaines Schlumberger, one of the big wine names in these parts. The wine itself is made of a blend of Pinot Noir (80% from the limestone Bollenberg plot and 20% from the marl-limestone Saering plot). Vinification occurs during a maceration period of two weeks and it is then matured in traditional tuns for 10 months. What you get is a wine that is cherry red with purple reflections, and an aroma of red fruit scents (blackcurrant, cherry) and a hint of rose. Redcurrant, blackberry, vineyard peach as it opens out and slight woodiness also come through. It was served at what we might consider a low temperature for red but to get the most out of these wines 16°C is what you’re looking for. It was smooth against the punchiness of the cheese and the combination was really rather wonderful. The spoonful of cumin seeds served alongside the cheese were an interesting – and welcome – touch too.

We finished off with a gourmandise du pâtissier which took the form of a gloriously gooey plum and raspberry confection, on a biscuit base that couldn’t be faulted, the ice cream all creamy and rich and the sorbet sharp and cleansing on the palate. It was looking good for our second night, and we went to bed happy after finishing our dessert wine (and cheering when the annoying pair behind us had cleared the room and gone to their own beds). It made the wine taste even better, which, as it was a 2017 Gewürztraminer Tradition – Gold Medal wine from Bott Frères was quite a smart trick. The wine is brilliant and crystal-clear in shades of light green and has a youthful, fresh and flowery (rose and acacia) aroma, added to an exotic taste of pineapple and oriental spices characteristic of Gewürztraminer. Perfect with dessert and on its own, as we went on to prove!

On the second night we wandered out for an aperitif, ending up drinking a glass of wine by the waterside at La Krutenau, for the simple reason that it was the first bar we came across that had waterside views and an empty table. It was another lovely evening so we were quite content to be outside a while longer.

On our return we decided it was getting a little too cold to stay out for a second aperitif so we took to the room just off the hotel’s courtyard for a second glass of wine and some more of their fabulous pastry straws, before swinging indoors to see what was on offer on the tasting menu. As ever they started us of with a delicate little amuse-bouche before things got serious. We’d deliberately avoided anything after the charcuterie plate at Joseph Cattin’s for the remainder of the day because we reckoned we’d be best arriving hungry. We didn’t even do the flammkuechen as aperitif nibbles thing because that seemed unwise. This time they started us with a cheesy mousse and a tiny tomato gazpacho, which was refreshing and sharp.

And then it was into the serious wine and food. The starter was a terrine of duck foie gras with figs and a fruit chutney. It was smooth and rich and fabulous and it probably didn’t need the toasted brioche with it (though I have to say we both caved and ate part of it). Given we also had more of their fantastic bread as well it was overkill, but gloriously so. With it we moved from the crémant to a far more suitable wine, a 2017 Pinot Gris from Maison Martin Jund, who are now entirely biodynamic in their practices. This wine is described as “expressive and tender, from the very beginning, a fruity wine if there is one”. The resulting wine is a golden yellow with metallic reflections, and the aroma is of ripe yellow fruits (pear, peach). It’s perfectly sweet and an ideal match for foie gras.

The second course was a crayfish casserole, tiny and packed with pieces of sweet-fleshed, juicy, tender crayfish tails, dotted with chives and swimming in a creamy sauce. I loved it (and the little Staub cocottes it was served in, which are from a brand that started in Alsace, and that cost an absolute fortune). I pondered the possibility of getting out of there with one hidden in my handbag! the sheer weight of it put me off the idea, if Lynne had not also vetoed it. We already had a fabric heart that was in our room as a present from the hotel when we arrived. That would be far easier to carry… I settled for mopping up the sauce with the bread roll and we sat and waited to see what else we would be fed.

The second fish dish was a piece of nicely filleted halibut, in a saffron sauce. Saffron is tricky stuff – overdo it and you have a sauce that is bitter and deeply unpleasant. Get it right and you have something golden and warm. They got it right and the fish was also perfect, white and flaking and moist, sitting on a small pile of fresh carrots and a pool of pale golden sauce. Both this and the crayfish came with a 2016 Grand Cru Froehn Riesling from Jean Becker. This wine is made from grapes grown on limestone and sandstone at 270 to 300m on soil consisting of dark gray schistose marls, with fine white limestone beds as well as carbonate and ferruginous nodules. The wine resulting wine is floral and fruity, combining richness, finesse and breadth regardless of varietal and there is a fine and strong acidity that becomes salinity and minerality with aging. Am excellent choice once again. Someone really knows their wine and food matches, and they want you to have the best Alsace can offer

The interlude was a palate cleansing lime and apple sorbet which really woke the tastebuds up and prepared us for a meaty main course and a change of wine.

This came in the shape of a pink-cooked beef fillet, with a fine selection of small organic vegetables including a smooth as silk potato puree, some pickled radish and onions (tiny, sweet, giving a lift to the meat), courgettes, carrots, fine beans and broccoli. The meat could probably have been cut with a spoon, it was so tender and perfectly cooked. There is a sure hand at work in the kitchen, in the shape of the head chef, Thierry Chefdeville, who has been here for two decades, producing a very harmonious menu where each dish could stand along but equally fits together. I would happily eat there again, and that was before we made it all the way through the menu.

The wine served with the beef was a 2017 Alsace Pinot Noir from Pierre Henri Ginglinger. This is made from a blend of Pinot Noir from different plots, harvested by hand, then de-stemmed and allowed to macerate for 15 days.  It is then moved to old wooden casks for malolactic fermentation. What you get as a result has a beautiful purple hue, and a nose that is very fruity with notes of cassis and cherries. It’s light, fresh and pleasant with a little tannin and is best served chilled down to between 12 and 14ºC. It also went very well with the assortment of three cheeses which included a relatively young Comté which always makes me happy. But then, Comté always makes me happy, a fact that can probably be confirmed by the bloke at Borough Market who sells it to me and to le Manoir Aux Quat’Saisons!

Pré-dessert was chocolate in a number of forms, including ice cream, and would have been a dessert in its own right (and certainly more than sufficient), especially with meringue as well, and I could have happily stopped there.

I was glad I didn’t stop there though. The pineapple and lemon cappuccino mojito-style might not have been desperately photogenic but it was desperately good, with a hit of alcohol and sharp pineapple, underneath a light, foaming lemon cream.

We ended the night full of food and nursing the dreaded food baby (twins I think), more than satisfied with our two dinners in a fine restaurant. We did get stuck with a second table full of irritating fellow diners again though, who were first minded to be annoyed by the service, which they felt was too slow (OK, it’s not quick but you’re there for an evening out so I’d prefer not to be rushed), and who then talked utter nonsense all night, strong in so many incorrect opinions (the Italians didn’t have any colonies or any colonial “adventures” – tell that to the Libyans, Ethiopians, Eritreans, and Somalians – and the Germans don’t make cheese being just two of them). So if you do go try and get Table 1 so there won’t be anyone behind you!

Travel/Food 2019 – Alsace and Baden, Days 6 and 7, Restaurant a l’Echevin, Colmar Wednesday, 18th September/Thursday, 19th September 2019 - Restaurant a l’Echevin, Colmar As part of the deal at the…

[helshades]

Tip of the Nose : You Be For Men, My Scent

Does perfume really have a gender? Not remotely likely, says the purist, and don’t come telling me that virility smells like those pine-shaped car deodorant thingies. Everybody knows that real men smell of lavender.

This article is actually a rewrite of my response to this post, which my dying aging computer ate right before I thought about saving three hours worth of work. I’m not entirely sure what burning frustration and bitter regret are supposed to smell like, but if someone wishes to bottle it, they may as well name it Parfum de Hel.

On a side note, one of the participants to the earlier conversation had me blocked for some previous reason—probably unrelated to perfume discourse—so I could not reblog the initial post; nor am I willing, out of politeness, to simply caption the discussion. Therefore, here is the original post, and following is the segment I will more precisely address:

@thatiswhy:

Also, maybe I hate the mainstream cotton candy uwu line for women but don’t want to smell like a fucking frat house trying to deo away the smell of vomit on the carpet. You know what I want to smell like? White musk, and leather, and cedar, and sandalwood, and old parchment, and vetiver, and various teas, and juniper, and citrus, and cypress, and cashmere wood, and maybe in the summer like orange blossom and jasmine or fresia. These notes, while mostly present in women’s perfumes, usually are combined with overbearing fruity or flowery tones that make it smell like an aging late 17th century courtesan’s drawers, or “oriental” scents that make the whole thing reek like a 1920’s opium den. (Seriously, I have walked into a perfume shop, asked to be shown something fresh, woodsy and clean, and had Gabrielle shoved under my nose, which smells like rosewater-flavoured Turkish delight.)

Let women smell of non-jellybean scents, you cowards.

That being said, I have found all but two scents for men (to date) that don’t smell absolutely abrasive. (I’m suspecting the cheap synthetic ambergris.) 99.9% of the stuff directed at men smell as if I had one of those scrubbing metal wire thingies shoved up my throat. So no, I don’t want to shop at the men’s section, I want to be given the opportunity to find a scent that doesn’t say 80’s cartoon for girls and/or I read palms for a living.

There are many things to address in this fertile, if angry, intervention, and like often I’m starting by the end and by making a remark that has little to do with the subject at hand: I don’t think, my darling Tatty, that the ‘abrasive’ harbinger of olfactory doom you perceive in most ‘masculine’ fragrances would be synthetic ambergris, cheap or other. All ambergris today is synthetic, to begin with—well, not all, but natural ambergris is so terrifyingly expensive that we’ve got to forgive perfumers for furnishing us with only an approximation. Ambergris is extremely rare a substance; think around €10,000 per kilogram, in the lower estimation. Back in 2016, a nearly two-kilo block found by a man who was walking his dog on a Lancashire beach sold for £50,000… People have become millionaires over ambergris, although most of the time one only finds small quantities of it at once.

   Now this ambergris is a very curious substance, and so important as an article of commerce, that in 1791 a certain Nantucket-born Captain Coffin was examined at the bar of the English House of Commons on that subject. For at that time, and indeed until a comparatively late day, the precise origin of ambergris remained, like amber itself, a problem to the learned. Though the word ambergris is but the French compound for gray amber, yet the two substances are quite distinct. For amber, though at times found on the sea-coast, is also dug up in some far inland soils, whereas ambergris is never found except upon the sea. Besides, amber is a hard, transparent, brittle, odourless substance, used for mouth-pieces to pipes, for beads and ornaments; but ambergris is soft, waxy, and so highly fragrant and spicy, that it is largely used in perfumery, in pastiles, precious candles, hair-powders, and pomatum. The Turks use it in cooking, and also carry it to Mecca, for the same purpose that frankincense is carried to St. Peter’s in Rome. Some wine-merchants drop a few grains into claret, to flavour it.

  Who would think, then, that such fine ladies and gentlemen should regale themselves with an essence found in the inglorious bowels of a sick whale! Yet so it is.

— Herman Melville, Moby Dick (1922), chapter XCII, ‘Ambergris’.

In perfumery, ambergris is distilled into an alcohol-based solution known as ‘pure amber’ which, when exposed to air and sunlight, can be separated into several derivatives, notably terpenes and steroids. In fact, ambergris is mainly constituted from ambrein (25–45%) and epicoprosterol (30–40%). Ambrein is progressively degraded by sea water, sunlight and air into several compounds which are chiefly responsible for its smell, notably ambroxide and ambrinol. Modern perfumery uses ambroxide as a substitute for natural ambergris, which is easily synthesised from… a type of sage plant! To be exact, from sclareol, a fragrant chemical compound found in clary sage (Salvia sclarea). Sclareol kills cancer (yes.), and also it smells really good, with a sweet, balsamic scent very reminiscent indeed of the most important notes of natural ambergris.

Ambergris is essentially mucus naturally produced by certain sperm whales (it is believed that less than 5% of the species produces ambergris, possibly the largest of them, which prey on bigger animals) to protect their intestinal tract from lesions caused by the passing of sharp objects, chiefly undigested squid beaks: eventually, the whale excretes this soft, blackish, pungent concretion which is going to drift for a long while before landing on the shore, where it’ll spend maybe years drying out and hardening under the sun and the air. The colour lightens to a golden grey, and the smell gradually sweetens to a salty musk with whiffs of honey, tobacco and leather—depending on the block, the notes will vary in proportions and in potency.

Almost needless to say, then, that the number of perfumes using authentic ambergris isn’t especially high. Conversely, synthetic ambroxide is a beloved template of the modern perfumer’s palette, one of the reasons being that it helps stabilise scents very well. So popular, in fact, that specialists speak of 40% of the perfumes created in the last thirty years using it! Ambroxide was first synthesised in 1950, by Max Stoll for Geneva-based Firmenich SA. That means that Aimé Guerlain had to use natural ambergris when he created the masterpiece Jicky in 1889 (the oldest perfume in the world to be sold without interruption since its creation), even though Jicky was amongst the very first perfumes to use synthetic ingredients! Most notably, Jicky pioneered a great use of several synthetic molecules, chief of which vanillin, the synthetic vanilla which had been discovered in 1874 by German chemist Ferdinand Tiemann. (The first perfume using synthetic ingredient was Houbigant’s Fougère Royale in 1882, using coumarin, one of the key molecules of tonka beans.)

According to the legend of Jicky, it was composed by Aimé Guerlain (one of founder Pierre Guerlain’s two sons, and the second generation’s in-house perfumer, whilst Gabriel was the manager; then came Gabriel’s own sons, master perfumer Jacques and manager Pierre. The last family perfumer was Jacques’ grandson Jean-Paul, who retired heirless in 1994, after which the company was sold to soulless, tentacular multinational LVMH, much to the dismay of Guerlain aficionados all over the world) ... in memory of a broken heart he suffered in his youth as he came back to France after studying in England without his lady love, the lovely ‘Jicky’. Though mostly advertised to a female clientèle, Jicky shocked many a respectable woman of the time by its daring use of sensual animal musks (ambergris, musk, castoreum, and the devilishly sexual civet) at the heart of its balms, spices and aromatic flowers, most especially lavender, luxurious iris, sultry sandalwood and hot leather... Until the 1910s, when women’s press began recommending it, Jicky was quite the sensation amongst... English dandies... and Marcel Proust, of course. (In 1925, for the International Exhibition of Decorative Arts, Jacques Guerlain presented a twist on Jicky, in which he had removed lavender and woods but added bergamot and, especially, a massive dose of ethylvanillin [three times more potent than vanillin!]: Shalimar was born.)

Men and women used to wear the very same perfumes. Until the 19th century, really, the market wasn’t segmented and there was no such thing as a masculine scent. When the European courts started bathing again and heady perfumes fell out of fashion to the benefit of lighter, tarter, fresher fragrances modelled after the famous Eau de Cologne (1708), women wore them too. The French Jean-Marie Farina who became with his own Eau de Cologne (1809) the official perfumer of the imperial court furnished Empress Joséphine as well. It was for Empress Eugénie, wife of Napoleon III, that Pierre Guerlain created his 1853 Eau de Cologne impériale in the famous ‘bee bottle’ (with his 69 bees symbolising the Empire), which earned Guerlain the envied title of ‘Patented Perfumer of Her Majesty’.

The real difference in perfume usage that occurred during the 19th century was actually a matter of social marking via the use of perfumes of varied qualities, complexities and prestige: if perfume remained an element of luxury, now the aristocracy wasn’t alone in this privilege; moreover, clothes weren’t so elaborate and expensive anymore, and social differences were expressed in subtler ways than before the Revolution. In Paris, House Guerlain furnished a more aristocratic clientèle, whereas the upper-middle class went to Roger & Gallet (successors to Jean-Marie Farina), Lubin or L.T. Piver; meanwhile, middle-middle and lower-middle classes patroned Bourjois and Gellé Frères. The lower-middle class also went to ‘perfume bazaars’ that proposed the same products on sale, plus low-quality products.

The first respectable (only) concurrent to French perfumery was actually England, thanks to the well-earned reputation of its barbers, who created their own fragrances, at once discreet, elegant yet tenacious. Those were scents designed to be applied on the skin as tonics in the first place, after an expert shave, and as such they were based on aromatics, chiefly lavender, made from the essence of the delicate English variety: in the beginning 20th century, Frenchmen often wore Yardley’s 1873 English Lavender, precisely, and it was something of an ubiquitous odour in cosmetic products more specifically destined to men, such as soaps and creams.

It is no wonder, then, that when Ernest Daltroff created the first ever perfume only for men, judiciously titled Pour un homme, in 1934, for House Caron which he co-founded with his brother Raoul in 1904, the fragrance was based on lavender, tenderly joined in matrimony with sweet vanilla and lying on a respectable, tranquil base of an ambre accord (vanilla, benzoin, labdanum, the ‘oriental’ assembly created by genius François Coty in 1908 Ambre antique, the family namer of ambrés perfumes) sandalwood and musk. Legend has it that Ernest, who loved lavender, added the vanilla to please Ms. Félicie Wanpouille, Caron’s artistic counsellor, whom Ernest might have loved even more than lavender. She had joined Caron in 1906 and their collaboration produced some of the most beautiful perfumes of the time, and most original: in 1919, they created the first ever leather-scented perfume, Tabac Blond, in 1927, Ernest made En avion as a gift to Félicie’s friend the star aviatrix Hélène Boucher... They also invented the ‘loose powder’ technique in make-up.

Félicie never left, but Ernest did, along with Raoul, when the Nazis invaded France: the Daltroff brothers were the sons of Jewish Russian immigrants, after all. Since Caron exported a lot of products and had opened a shop on New York’s 5th Avenue, Ernest emigrated to the United States in 1939. He never came back, and died in Canada in 1941. But Félicie Wanpouille stayed, in spite of the Occupation, keeping Caron afloat; 1941 was also the year she got the genius idea, since she couldn’t pay the heavy taxes the Nazis imposed on Jewish-made goods, to rename Pour un homme into Pour une femme, a name which it kept until the war ended. To this day, Caron remains one of the very houses to be devoted entirely to perfume—and free of any multinational’s influence, for that matter. (They’ve not, alas! remained free from the clutch of Reformulation, but that is a story for another day.)

There are two very good reasons why Tabac Blond bears this name. The first was purely commercial: in 1919, women were beginning to smoke, but they smoked almost exclusively blond tobacco from Virginia, which was considered too feminine for men. The second was that blond tobacco exhales honeyed mossy notes which the perfume evoked tantalisingly alongside the darker leather, the cooler iris and the warmer amber, meaning that it was the perfect perfume to cover the smell of tobacco smoke. Two years later, Molinard released the wonderful Habanita, in a small bottle shaped like a cigarette lighter, as an oil to dab the tip of your cigarette so as to make women’s clouds suaver (it was released as a proper perfume in 1924, and long advertised as ‘the most tenacious perfume in the world!’, not without reason).

It wouldn’t be illogical to consider that if there are masculine scent in the first place, it’s probably because femininity went through some drastic changes from the late 19th century onwards, especially as a consequence of the two World Wars. The daring, tobacco-covering orientals which the flappers favoured were a direct reaction to the dreamy flower ideal of the previous decades, notably the artificial immobility of the Victorian woman and her continental equivalents, which the Roaring Twenties more or less exorcised with a call to adventure and independence. Women wore more perfume and more daring perfumes; it was only expected that men would start wearing perfume, real perfume again.

Something really odd happened in the 1980s, but maybe that, too, was to be expected: a kind of paradigm shift occurred in perfumery, as the laundry detergent companies which had become extremely rich and powerful thanks to the combined power of advertisement and mass consumption bought most of the perfume houses, perfume started imitating cosmetics more than the reverse. Once upon a time, the cosmetics industry would copy, or try to, the scents most popular in perfumery, like L’Oréal’s Elnett hairspray famously reprised Chanel’s  Nᵒ 5’ aldehyde overdose. Now, trendy perfume smells like shampoo or body spray.

It seems, nonetheless, like the ancestor of all terrible men’s perfumes that smell like body spray—the men’s version, the kind that makes you want to claw your own nose off—was the otherwise respectable Drakkar Noir by Guy Laroche (1982). So beloved by the public that every hygiene or cosmetic product targeted towards suddenly attempted to smell like it. Drakkar, however, was a good perfume, even if by today’s standards it would be perfectly unwearable for one’s entourage (in a vicinity of approximately 30 metres). ‘Powerhouse’ doesn’t begin to describe the type of scent that was popular in the late 80s and early 90s. And then they started using Calone™. Like, a lot of it. Have you ever smelled calone? Wait, you have. You’ve hated it. Calone in itself was a great chemical revolution: finally, the possibility for perfumers to imitate the very odour of water! Bring in the marine-like scents! Bring in the marine-like scents... I kinda want to throttle Calvin Klein for Escape (1991). Whatever you do, do not, I repeat, do not approach anything subtitled ‘Sport’. It’s worse. It’s way worse. (These days, calone is used to give a ‘watermelon’ aspect to everything, but chiefly summer flankers of denatured classic feminine perfumes. A hint: it smells like shampoo. Everything does.)

You can blame advertisement for convincing men to wear perfume on top of extremely pungent deodorant, too, but me personally, I strongly resent women who think classics are ‘too feminine’ and want to shop at the men’s section of their local perfume supermarket because it’s supposed to be ‘gender-defying’. It really isn’t. That’s not what equality is about, getting to smelling just as bad as the dudes, it isn’t. Even more importantly, perfume is not gendered; marketing is. Skin chemistry varies noticeably from person to person and our hormones do play some role in what we smell like, and therefore in what one perfume will smell like on different people, but apart from that, any sex-based olfactory discrimination is but a marketing ploy to exploit a segmented market so that the members of one household purchase and consume as many differentiated items as possible. Mainstream perfumery these days is mostly hopeless: the Thinking (wo)Man would be well inspired to turn to ‘niche’ perfumery, which isn’t always that confidential but presents the great advantage of being generally more creative and personal. Websites exist where people exchange ideas and samples and there is a whole alternative market for scents that allow people not to ruin themselves buying a full bottle of certain great fragrances. Overall, it is a nice way to get to wear something that feels like a personal choice.