#fleur de leaving

[askwhatsforlunch]

Butternut and Pork Stuffed Cabbage Leaves

These Butternut and Pork Stuffed Cabbage Leaves may take a while to prepare, but the effort will be rewarded with a deliciously fragrant filling wrapped in bright green leaves, an Autumnal lunch (or dinner) worthy of a day off! Happy Thursday!

Ingredients (serves 4):

1 cup brown rice

1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt

1/4 large butternut squash (from the top half), rinsed

1/2 onion

1 teaspoon dried rosemary

1/2 teaspoon fleur de sel or sea salt flakes

12 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 teaspoon coarse sea salt

1/4 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

4 beautiful, large outer leaves of a Savoy cabbage

1/4 Savoy cabbage

200 grams/7 ounces Toulouse Sausages (or other good quality pork sausages)

1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

1 large egg

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 200°C/395°F.

In a rice cooker or small pot, combine brown rice and coarse sea salt. Cover with a cup of water, and cook, until tender and fluffy, about 20 minutes.

Cut butternut into large chunks, and arrange onto a roasting tin. Cut onion into quarters and add to the tin as well. Sprinkle with rosemary, fleur de sel and black pepper. Drizzle with olive oil. Roast, at 200°C/395°F, for about 35 minutes.

Bring a large pot, filled to three-quarters with water, to the boil. Once boiling, stir in coarse sea salt until dissolved. Then, add bicarbonate of soda. Plunge in the large cabbage leaves and blanch, 2 minutes.

Then, cool them under cold water and drain thoroughly. Set aside.

Place Savoy cabbage quarter into the pot, cover with a lid, and cook, about 12 minutes. Once cooked, remove from the pot and drain thoroughly. Allow to cool a bit. Set aside.

Remove Toulouse sausage meat from their casings, and into a large bowl. Crumble with your fingers.

Roughly chop Savoy cabbage, and add to the bowl, along with cooked brown rice. Give a good stir, to mix.

Peel the skin off the roasted butternut, and chop roughly, along with the onion. Add to the bowl, and season with black pepper. Break the egg in the middle, and mix well with clean hands. Set aside.

Thoroughly pat Savoy Cabbage leaves dry with paper towels. Stuff each with a cup of the butternut and sausage mixture. Wrap well, tucking the filling in, and tie with kitchen twine.

In a large skillet, melt butter over medium-high heat. Once the butter is just foaming, add stuffed cabbage leaves, turning them in to coat in butter. Cook, a couple of minutes, then pour in 1/2 cup of the cabbage water. Reduce heat to medium, cover with a lid, and cook 12 to 15 minutes, adding more of the cabbage water if necessary, as it will evaporate.

Remove stuffed cabbage leaves from the skillet and cut off the twine.

Serve Butternut and Pork Stuffed Cabbage Leaves hot, with a robust red wine, like a French Ventoux or an Australian Shiraz.

[vogelmeister]

the misspelling of thank really adds to this

[mellosdrawings]

When you need to declare your love to your wife but it is so strong you can't help but revert back to french.

You know the perk of being french ? I can write Rook rambling haha !

(Though I am incapable of writing poetry, so here is the poem I used and its approximate translation:

Je respire où tu palpites,

Tu sais ; à quoi bon, hélas !

Rester là si tu me quittes,

Et vivre si tu t'en vas ?

(I breathe where you throb, you know ;

What for, alas! stay here if you leave me, and live if you go away?)

A quoi bon vivre, étant l'ombre

De cet ange qui s'enfuit ?

A quoi bon, sous le ciel sombre,

N'être plus que de la nuit ?

(What good is living, being the shadow of this fleeing angel?

What for, under the dark sky, being from the night only?)

Je suis la fleur des murailles

Dont avril est le seul bien.

Il suffit que tu t'en ailles

Pour qu'il ne reste plus rien.

(I am the flower of your walls for which April is the only good.

You only need to leave for me to be left with nothing.)

Tu m'entoures d'Auréoles;

Te voir est mon seul souci.

Il suffit que tu t'envoles

Pour que je m'envole aussi.

(You surround me with Halos;

I care only about seeing you.

You need only to take flight for me to fly too.)

Si tu pars, mon front se penche ;

Mon âme au ciel, son berceau,

Fuira, dans ta main blanche

Tu tiens ce sauvage oiseau.

(Should you leave, my front/forehead shall lean ;

My soul in the sky, its cradle, will flee,

In your white hand you hold this wild bird.)

Que veux-tu que je devienne

Si je n'entends plus ton pas ?

Est-ce ta vie ou la mienne

Qui s'en va ? Je ne sais pas.

(What would I become, should I not hear your steps anymore?

Is it your life or mine that is fleeing ?

I cannot tell?)

Quand mon orage succombe,

J'en reprends dans ton coeur pur ;

Je suis comme la colombe

Qui vient boire au lac d'azur.

(When my thunder dies down, I take some from your pure heart ;

I am like the dove that just drank in the azur lake.)

L'amour fait comprendre à l'âme

L'univers, salubre et béni ;

Et cette petite flamme

Seule éclaire l'infini

(Love makes the soul understand the universe, healthful and blessed ;

And this lonely little flame shines upon the endless)

Sans toi, toute la nature

N'est plus qu'un cachot fermé,

Où je vais à l'aventure,

Pâle et n'étant plus aimé.

(Without you, all of nature is only a closed cell where I go on an adventure,

Pale and no longer beloved.)

Sans toi, tout s'effeuille et tombe ;

L'ombre emplit mon noir sourcil ;

Une fête est une tombe,

La patrie est un exil.

(Without you, everything falls apart ;

Shadows fill my dark eyebrow ;

A feast/party is a tomb,

The homeland is an exile.)

Je t'implore et réclame ;

Ne fuis pas loin de mes maux,

O fauvette de mon âme

Qui chantes dans mes rameaux !

(I beg and demand ;

Do not flee any longer from my pain,

O warbler of my soul who sings in my twigs!)

De quoi puis-je avoir envie,

De quoi puis-je avoir effroi,

Que ferai-je de la vie

Si tu n'es plus près de moi ?

(What could I want?

What could I be afraid of?

What would I do of life without you by my side?)

Tu portes dans la lumière,

Tu portes dans les buissons,

Sur une aile ma prière,

Et sur l'autre mes chansons.

(You carry in the light,

You carry in the bushes,

On a wing my prayers,

On the other my songs.)

Que dirai-je aux champs que voile

L'inconsolable douleur ?

Que ferai-je de l'étoile ?

Que ferai-je de la fleur ?

(What will I tell to the fields that hide my inconsolable pain?

What would I do of the star?

What would I do of the flower?)

Que dirai-je au bois morose

Qu'illuminait ta douceur ?

Que répondrai-je à la rose

Disant : " Où donc est ma soeur ?"

(What will I tell to the morose forest that illuminated your softness?

What will I answer at the rose asking "Where is my sister?")

J'en mourrai ; fuis, si tu l'oses.

A quoi bon, jours révolus !

Regarder toutes ces choses

Qu'elle ne regarde plus ?

(I would die ;

Flee if you dare.

What is the point, days gone! of looking at all those she no longer looks at?)

Que ferai-je de la lyre,

De la vertu, du destin ?

Hélas ! et, sans ton sourire,

Que ferai-je du matin ?

(What would I do of the lyre, of virtue, of destiny?

Alas! And, without your smile,

What would I do of the morning?)

Que ferai-je, seul, farouche,

Sans toi, du jour et des cieux,

De mes baisers sans ta bouche,

Et de mes pleurs sans tes yeux !

(What would I do, alone, wild, without you, of days and heavens,

Of my kisses without your lips,

And of my tears without your eyes!)

Il suffit que tu t'envoles pour que je m'envoles aussi - Victor Hugo

(You need only take flight for me to fly too))

[hellotailor]

louis' final three costumes in S2 are so, so cleverly chosen. after the curated blandness of his interview wardrobe in dubai, this is our first glimpse of his personal taste in the present day. each outfit is full of meaning.

in the first half of S2, louis and armand’s coordinated interview outfits seemed like part of their performance as a happy couple. by the end, they have a more sinister subtext. louis has gone from having stylish, flashy fashion sense to wearing uniformly expressionless black and grey:

dubai-era louis exclusively wears the colors of depression and mourning, in a style stripped of personal expression, physically and spiritually separated from the outside world. i’ll write a separate post about armand’s costumes later, but you could interpret this as louis' taste being subsumed by armand’s nebulous 500-year-old absence of identity. at the very least, louis is blending into the chic minimalism of the apartment, presenting himself as part of the household unit.

with that in mind, his final three outfits signal a seismic change after leaving armand. his NOLA tour costume reflects the philosophy behind his 1940s wardrobe (ie. selected to blend into a human crowd) but he's also reconnecting with his home, wearing a New Orleans Saints hat with (in a potential piece of double symbolism!) a fleur-de-lis logo.

then we have the loustat reunion outfit, which is more enigmatic. he’s going for subdued colors (although not pure black and grey), with a silhouette echoing his mid-20th century wardrobe: high-waisted, wide-legged trousers and a bomber jacket - a cut he wears pretty often. IMO the reunion’s overall color palette is a major factor here, with lestat and louis' costumes and surroundings sharing a spectrum of dark brown, sepia and muted gold.

finally there's the last scene in dubai, arguably the most “pure” expression of louis' taste because he’s not wearing this outfit for an audience. coordinating with the apartment’s colorful makeover, he’s wearing a multicolored cardigan with yellow highlights, matching claudia’s dress, the yellow couches, and the gold background of his new painting. (i’ve identified this as a YMC cardigan retailing at £250; a mid-range english brand.)

this piece (paired with navy blue pants with a yellow stripe) is modern and distinctive; basically the opposite of his interview costumes, which displayed very little in the way of personality or cultural markers. you immediately understand that louis is expressing himself through fashion again, now in a more casual streetwear context than the tailored and accessorized suits of his youth.

[thebeautifulbook]

FLEUR DE LYS-SHAPED BOOK OF HOURS, in Latin, use of Rome (Paris, c. 1553). Illuminated manuscript on paper.

180 x 80mm. i + 117 leaves, each page with 24 lines written in a 'roman' hand in black ink within a liquid gold border in the shape of a half fleur de lys, spaces infilled with liquid gold fronds on blue or red grounds, line-fillers and one- and two-line initials of the same colours, eleven lobe-shaped miniatures. Nineteenth-century brown morocco gilt, semé with fleur de lys, doublures of red morocco gilt, edges gauffered and gilt (upper cover detached). [Christies Auction House, 2006 catalog]

source

[ltwilliammowett]

Diptych dial with compass for latitude 49° North. This square, ivory dial consists of two leaves that fold flat when not in use. Leaf Ia contains a combined nocturnal and universal equinoctial dial surrounded by a compass rose showing 32 points with a fleur-de-lys for North. On leaf Ib is a universal equinoctial dial inside of which is a silver lunar volvelle. The remainder of the leaf is decorated with a view of a harbour, possibly Dieppe, and ships and dolphins.

This piece was made by David Asselinne, 1650-1700

[missydior]

milk & honey ౨ৎ

♡: slow and peaceful saturdays with the love of your life.

notes: charles leclerc/reader, established relationship, fluff.

a/n: this is my first uploaded piece on my new blog so please interact, give me feedback, leave a like, much appreciated <3 i listened to ‘la petite fille de la mer’ whilst i was writing this.

It is a gentle afternoon in the principality of Monaco: the skies a palette of pale lilac against the quilt of grey clouds in gentle rainfall that lingers with a hint of petrichor, a slow and familiar hustle amongst the streets of smooth stone and Belle Époque architecture where a stray cat wanders her path before disappearing once more into the alcoves of an alley.

After a slow dawn of waking amongst a mess of clean, linen sheets, feathered pillows, and tangled limbs where the heavy, velvet curtains danced serenely in some lovers' waltz, hiding the bedroom in some quiet bask, the both of you enjoyed breakfast over almond croissants, blueberries stolen from one another's plates and your usual café au lait – half a sugar, more milk than deemed necessary, just as Charles knows you love it – before you had walked around the neighbourhood by eleven o'clock to at least feel somewhat productive.

Even when the both of you only wanted to lounge endlessly after returning from Montréal the day before.

Despite finishing 4th and not quite following through in his hopes in securing an awarding podium and a taste of sweet champagne, faced with the recent difficulties of upgrades, he had come to accept and delight in his small succession nonetheless with you by his side, forever proud regardless.

Phones on mute, the rest of society blissfully forgotten and only each other to indulge in, it is pure bliss; perfect heaven.

"Hm, you smell nice," By two o'clock – after a light luncheon on the balcony overlooking the beauty of the Côte d'Azur – you are dozing idly about the plush invitation of the sofa, his voice a hushed murmur near the side of your neck where lips ghost over in something close to a kiss when he speaks.

Charles is half-draped over your own figure, though his weight is comfortably balanced by an elbow against a sewn cushion, some kind of Jardin De Fleurs -inspired embroidery made and gifted by your grandmother, with ankles locked about each other and your soft-skinned palm tracing his shoulder through the white linen of his shirt.

For a moment, a quietude settles between you once more and you welcome the entwined curl of his lithe fingers around your own when his hand drifts higher from the inside of your wrist absently like some unspoken 'I love you' before his mouth meets yours.

It is slow and sweet, the kind of kisses you savour in committing to memory each and every time, and he can taste remnants of sweetened milk & honey tea on your breath that is so apparently mundane but equally unique to you alone.

When your head tilts back against the cushions – hair falling about like an angel's halo – and Charles shifts his own body further, closer, above you, his hands come to cradle either side of your lovely face, his thumbs grazing the delicate line of your cheekbones, his nose brushing lightly against the bridge of your own.

He kisses your brow, then the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, and finally your mouth again, all in that order, before breaking away for air.

"What was that for?" Voice hardly a demure whisper, you gaze at him through the veil of your lashes in some lovesick delight where your mouth threatens to curve against a hushed giggle, your own touch idly feeling along the carved line of his jaw like intricate marble where a dusting of five o'clock shadow lingers from a few days' worth. You secretly adore it, how it feels.

Charles smiles – all beautiful, revealed dimples and a glimmer in his eyes that remind of leaves in late August – and brushes a stray hair behind the shell of your ear. He takes a moment, his gaze lingering about the lines of your visage as if falling in love again, everyday. "For no particular reason, ma chérie, just because I want to."

Then he is leaning down to meet you again just as you welcome the embrace without question, only allowing yourself to melt further into the serenity of some lovesick truth as your arms drape about his shoulders faintly.

"Je pense..." Charles' mouth drifts down from yours slowly in a trail of kisses about your chin in his verbalised albeit quiet musings before lips slant together again and he encourages you to open for him, tasting, feeling, his tongue teasing over yours in a caress, "That I don't need a reason to kiss you."

In some silent, earnest contentment, you agree, because you could never refuse or object to the intimacy of his kisses and touches.

Mouth curving upwards against his, you let your fingertips feel the trimmed, soft hairs at his nape against tousled brunet tresses whilst breathing him in: Ombré Nomade cologne, hints of something akin to cedarwood against raspberry, incense and warm amber, against his natural pheromones. Home.

Feeling the lean muscles against his back through the soft fabric, toying only subtly with the subtle drag of teeth against his plush lower-lip whilst your eyes remain blissfully closed, you meet the faintest resonance of a sound from the back of his throat like a purr when he sucks upon your tongue with the same touch of loving.

"Vous êtes si belle," He sighs the compliments against you in sweet nothings and unabashed confessions, his own touch ghosting over the curves of your waist through the ivory, lace camisole hugging your physique, thumbs fleeting over the jut of your hip-bone before drifting higher once more.

It is when idle strokes are felt over your rib cage that you unconsciously emit a breathless, flushed sound of laughter against him before you can help yourself, instinctively shrinking against the touch whilst earning a look from him as he draws away fractionally with arched brows.

"Ticklish, are we, ma chérie?"

Your mouth parts for a retort or quick dismissal out of bashfulness – even when you know that he already knows too, given the Monégasque has the privilege to know each intimate, secretive and wholehearted truth about you – though the words die on your tongue the moment his fingertips continue their ministrations over your sides.

You cannot stop the serenade of laughter from leaving you, not when you are entirely vulnerable beneath, and a warmth settles in your chest when the corners of his eyes crinkle in a genuine smile as he continues tickling you.

"Arrêt–" A breathless gasp of imploration, palms that reach to try and draw him away with a shove at his chest though your rosé cheeks hurt from the depth of your raw, honest smiles, "Charles." ꒰ stop ꒱

Chuckling lowly, the man offers you the respite of mercy as he comes to a halt and kisses the corner of your mouth intimately, instead allowing his hands to feel the curve of your lower-back and the notches of your vertebrae until eyes meet in the peace of the afternoon, otherwise silent save for the lull of Lana del Rey from the kitchenette radio.

"Je t'aime." ꒰ i love you ꒱

He kisses you again and it is rich in his responding, ardent devotion to you, letting the faint remnants of your lipstick smear his own mouth like the prints you leave on hand-written love letters of cursive Française just for him in your diaries, the cashmere throw forgotten about your feet on the other end of the chaise lounge whilst rain continues.

"Je t'aime aussi, pour toujours." ꒰ i love you too, forever ꒱

a/n: don't forget to interact and leave a like or comment to spread the love <3

© missydior

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to the Coronet

A coronet is what you think of when you think of a crown. But Coronets aren't just worn by royalty but are also used by the nobility to denote rank during their ceremonies. The use of coronets have stopped becoming a regular occurance these days but provide an interesting WorldBuilding tool. Of course, if you're building your own world, you can use whatever symbols, colours and details you like, so don't forget to get creative.

So what's the difference between each one?

The Heir to the Throne

They will have a particular coronet, separate from their siblings. They will wear a half crown wrought of gold sporting single arch from front to back over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine.

Child of a sovereign (Princes and Princesses)

In England, they wear a gold coronet mounted with fleur-de-lis and crosses with no arches over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine.

Child of an heir apparent

A gold coronet mounted with strawberry leaves, crosses and fleur-de-lis over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine.

Child of a son of a sovereign

Their golden coronet consists of crosses and strawberry leaves over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine.

Child of a daughter of a sovereign

A gold coronet of fleur-de-lis and strawberry leaves.

Duke/Duchess

A silver-gilt coronet with eight strawberry leaves over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine. It's chased to look as though there's gems but there's no actual stones in the coronet.

Marquess/Marchioness

A coronet set with four strawberry leaves and four "pearls" (Not pearls but actually silver balls) over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine. These balls are set on points between each leaf. It's chased to look as though there's gems but there's no actual stones in the coronet.

Earl/Countess

A coronet set with eight strawberry leaves and eight "pearls" over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine. These pearls are set on raised points higher than the leaves. It's chased to look as though there's gems but there's no actual stones in the coronet.

Viscount/Viscountess

A coronet set with sixteen joining "pearls" over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine. It's chased to look as though there's gems but there's no actual stones in the coronet.

Baron/Baroness

A plain silver-gilt circlet, with six "pearls" over a velvet cap trimmed with ermine. It isn't chased.

[amirasainz]

Can you write about her and the grid couple and her family dynamics like in details with each couple and family member?

Hi love! Sorry it took me so long. I hope this is what you were searching for! @zahwoka My request are always open. Feedback is welcome. -XoXo

Baby!Sainz Relationships

Carlos Sainz Sr. and Reyes Vázquez de Castro -I think there's not much to say here -the two of them were more than joyed to have another baby -she definitely has her Papá wrapped around her finger -so that means that her Mamá has to be the bad cop -they are quite protective of her -i mean, no parent wants to let their youngest daughter fly to Colombia alone and stay there for nearly one year (for Narcos) -they were always very supportive of her career -all in all they are the best parents she could ask for

Ana and Blanca Sainz -YAY -another sister -when i tell you, those two acted like she was a doll -Amira always goes to them when she has boy problems -they are definitely the type of sisters to color each others nails,do their Make-Up together,… -when they were kids, they always forced Carlos to play Barbie with them -ALWAYS -they always criticize each other -but if someone else dares to: you're never seen again -when they are older, they will live pretty close -they also never know who has whose clothes -they also encourage Amira to embrace her beauty and attention she receives -which only gives Carlos more gray hair (Senior and Junior) -they are Amiras safe space -all in all they are like the Spanish Power-Puff-Girls

Carlos Sainz -Carlitos -poor little Carlitos -during his younger years he is so busy chasing away the boys -now it's the same thing, just that the boys became men -is a really protective brother -he was NOT happy when Amira went to Colombia -will buy her anything -"do you like the new Dior dress, hermanita? Let me get it for" -visits her quite often unexpected -he aged at least 20 years when his sister decided to wear crop tops -hates to leave her alone -it feels like he is dying -was very happy when she decided to attend his races -but he forgot about the drivers (and their girlfriends) -look it's not his fault that non of them are good enough for his darling sister -Carlos is her protector and always will be -a big spider in the room? Bring me a tissue hermanita -a scary thunderstorm? He will hug her the whole time -he will always be there for her

Baby!Sainz isn't in a relationship with any of them, even though it may seem like that (But we all now she isn't the brightest out there)

Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet -for some reason they give me older couple x younger babygirl vibes -I mean there are not THAT old, but they kind of act like it -Max and Kelly are more mature than others (I mean, they do have Penelope) -so they would kind of treat her like an innocent babygirl -and they love it -"Don't worry Schatje, me and Kelly will do everything. You just sit here and look pretty" -Max is protective of her, but me thinks Kelly is a bit more -she doesn't like when guys are near her -she would sometimes pick clothes for her to wear -protective waist holding -they surely took her and P to a lot of ski trips -and Penelope? she adores Amira -I think if they would ever manage to get together with her, she would get babied a lot (but not in a weird way)

Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux -Cottage Core Vibes -they are the definition of privat but not secret -i think they tease the internet the whole time with quite strange pictures -for example: Charles post a picture of Leo with clearly two women there -or Alex posting a mirror picture with Baby!Sainz in the background, in their bedroom -they are unsurprisingly very affectionately -words of assurance are a daily thing -always calling her jolie fille, petite fleur or dove -Alex and her would be all matchy-matchy when it comes to nails, shoes, clothes… -if Alex is wearing a white dress and Baby!Sainz a black one, be sure to expect Charles to wear a black jeans with a white shirt -they would spend the summer-break with her on the yacht -would treat her like a princess -Charles would write a song for her, of course -the prince of Monaco and his two princesses

Pierre Gasly and Francisca Gomes -Ok it might only be me that thinks like that but hear me out -I feel like Pierre and Kika a very possessive of her -no doubt they already manipulated her to spend more time with them -of course she wouldn't find out -if they are sitting somewhere, Pierre will have a hand on her thigh and Kika would play with her hair -and Amira would only be like: Oh physical touch is their love language -would tease her with their touches -when Kika buys her a necklace and puts it on her in front of a mirror while babygirl holds her hair up, she will definitely kiss her from the shoulder to her neck -or when Pierre helps her take of her heels, be sure to expect his hand to lightly touch her thigh -we all know how much PDA those two like -they will not hesitate to do the same with her -in the club, when they are dancing, she will be in the middle -the hands will roam each other and….. -well babygirl surly isn't the smartest one out there -they will be possessive till the end of the world

Daniel Ricciardo and Heidi Berger -the fun couple -they call her Roo, because she is their very own Kangaroo -if Baby!Sainz ever seeks an adventure, she knows where she has to go -they would take her on late night drives -she wants McDonalds at 3am? No problem, let us grab our shoes -during the Australia GP she is certainly staying with them -they teach her how to surf and take her to the Australian Zoo -Of course, Babygirl has to sleep in their rooms -what if a big bad spider is in her bed? -or a snake that wants to bite her? -only Heidi and Daniel can protect her -when they have a bond fire, Heidi will brush her hair and Daniel will take a hundred of pictures -and if she falls asleep on Heidis lap while Daniel plays the guitar, that's no-ones business but their own

George Russell and Carmen Mundt -Old money vibes -they are without a doubt the couple that always celebrates each others accomplishments -George likes to show the two of them of -I mean, who wouldn't like to have those two by their side -they will take her anywhere -a family feast? Ohh honey, you have to meet my grandma -a Tommy Hilfiger shoot? Honey the always need more models -a vacation in Spain? Honey, you know George will get a sunburn without us -what really makes her heart race is when she is talking and they give her 100% of their attention -she is actually always happy when George is shirtless -for example: the Watermelon picture (fr that was freaking hot) -their will always leave space in the middle for her -I think, they are quite protective

Oscar Piastri and Lily Zneimer -they give me the quite kind of love -shared glances -fleeting touches -i feel like they were quite shy with each other the first time they met -over time, they opened up more to each-other -now they will have a monthly movie night -her head on Lily's lap -her feet on Oscar's lap -they have insider jokes with each other -if Baby!Sainz ever needs quite time, they are the perfect couple for that -I imagine long walks on the beach during the sunset -sharing the same blanket and watching the sky

Alex Albon and Lily Muni He -like Pierre and Kika I think the are quite possessiv as well -They would certainly be the funny couple as well -but I think that they sometimes get quite jealous as well -they will post her often on Instagram -include her in all the fun activity's -however, if they think she spends to much time with someone unimportant, they always have a reason to get her away -"Oh my god, love! I have to show you this new bag i got you. It's blue and small and-oh hi George- and has a bit glitter on it and…." -as I said -possessive -they would be the couple to cuddle her when she's sick -play with her fingers during a conversation -make her look at them with a hand under her chin

Extra: Rebecca Donaldson -she is like a third sister to Amira -always goes shopping with her -which doesn't make Carlos happy -they are the types to read the Vogue together and watch the Met Gala with each-other -Mira and Becca are a dream team -me thinks they have the quite kind of friendship -the giving advice to each-other and are complete honest -Carlos is happy that they get along amazingly, but what do you mean his sister is here to visit Rebecca and not him??????

Lewis Hamilton -let's be honest -we all have an older man crush -and hers is 100% Sir Hamilton -I mean, look at those hands -look at his tattoos -is the type to buy dresses for her -when she wants to go out, "here baby, use my credit card" -he can make her blush and giggle like a school girl -he would definitely be the soft but dominate partner -with him, she truly is babygirl -would buy the world for her -(Am I listening to Older by Isabel LaRosa? Yes!)

Lando Norris -oh boy -on one hand Lando would feel very guilty -it is his best friends littles sister after all -but the heart wants what it wants -and his wants Amira Sainz -at first Lando would be kind of like a dork -trying to make her laugh all the time -taking her to go karting together -meeting his friends -but over time Lando would become more bolder -the hugs would linger -he would stare more -and the nicknames would include a my -"What did you do today, MY pretty girl?" -"MY darling, aren't you a sight fore sore eyes" -if she ever starts doubting herself, he will be the first one to stop her -would have one of her necklaces around his neck all the time -he would use stupid excuses to spend time with her -"my girl, can you help me with my curls again?" -he might have been Lando Norizz a long time ago -but now he's full of Rizz (?)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

10 Words Related to Medieval Art & Architecture

for your poem/story

1. Atrium: An open courtyard at the entrance of a church, usually surrounded by covered aisles. The atrium of the Early Christian church was originally a place for the catechumens to wait during the celebration of the Eucharist.

2. Blind Arch: An arch which encloses an opening in a wall which may appear to be a window but which is actually only a shallow indentation in the wall.

3. Campanile: Italian name for a bell tower, usually one that is detached from the main building.

4. Depressed Arch: A flattened arch, slightly pointed on top. It appears in Late Gothic of the 15th and 16th centuries.

5. Ecclesia & Synagoga: Personifications of the Church (Ecclesia) and Judism (Synagoga). Both appear as female figures. Ecclesia was crowned and holding a chalice and Synagoga was blindfolded and held the Tablets of the Law (the Ten Commandments given to Moses). These two personifications were often paired in painting and sculpture, but they could also appear separately.

6. Fleur-de-lis: Stylized lily which served as symbol for the French monarchy.

7. Greek Cross: A cross with four arms of equal length.

8. Historiated (or Figured) Capital: A capital which is decorated with figures of animals, birds, or humans, used either alone or combined with foliage. The figures need not have any meaning, although they may be symbolic or part of a narrative sequence. Historiated capitals were most commonly used in the Romanesque from the late 11th to mid-12th centuries.

9. Keystone: The voussoir (i.e., a wedge-shaped or tapered stone used to construct an arch) at the top of an arch; in vaulting it occurs at the intersection of the ribs of a rib vault. It is important structurally since it marks the apex of the vault.

10. Latin Cross: A cross with three short arms and one long arm.

If these writing notes helped with your poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

[notleclerc]

Too Hot

🤍Charles x Fem!Reader

🤍summary: in which the game „Too Hot“ challenges ones desires

🤍warning: getting a little steamy here but nothing to big

🤍a/n: I got inspired by @yuwuta with the JJK version and was like „ok slay lemme try it as well“ // English is not my first language so please have mercy on me🥺

In the heart of Monaco, where the streets echo with the roar of engines and the glitz of the Grand Prix, a different kind of heat simmers beneath the surface. It's not the scorching sun or the adrenaline of racing that sets hearts racing, but a playful game of Too Hot. And amidst the glamorous backdrop, you find yourself entangled in a steamy encounter with none other than Charles Leclerc.

Ever since Lando started to learn how to be a Dj, he‘s been throwing parties left and right, having only VVIP‘s in the club. Models, Actors, Athlete‘s - you name it. Obviously, that means the whole Grid is always welcome to join the fiesta. Charles, being the supportive friend he is, gets ready to dress up and waits for his girlfriend.

Y/n makes sure to wear a beautful red dress. God, that dress could make the devil go weak in his knees. Charles couldn‘t help but admire her.

„Tu es très belle, mon amour“ (you look beautiful my love)

he says, his voice tender with a soft look on his face.

You smile as you feel your cheeks getting warmer, giving yourself a natural blush. You give him a peck on his chin, as you are smaller even in heels.

„Merci Cha“ (thank you)

The two of you leave his appartement and go straight to his oh-so-famous Ferrari, the one that puts everyone in awe of its beauty (or the beauty driving it). The ride was smooth and no words were exchanged as the two of them enjoyed the calm and warmth.

It didn‘t take them long to reach the club, the music already indicating that Charles and Y/n were fashionably late. Charles hands his keys to a valet since he can‘t, for the love of god, park the car right. You tease him about it way too often.

„Et ils disent que les femmes ne peuvent pas se garer“ (and they say women can‘t park)

you say teasingly.

Charles chuckles and places his hand on your waist, guiding you towards the entrance. He made sure to get down to your ear and whispered softly

„Surveille ta bouche ou je le ferai pour toi, bébé“ (watch your mouth or i‘ll do it for you babe)

As you both enter, one with a smirk and the other with flushed cheeks, Lando greets the two of you with a wave from the DJ booth and makes sure to let you both know where the others are.

The party can begin.

As the night unfolds and the party reaches its peak, you catch sight of Charles across the room, his charismatic smile drawing you in like a magnet. You were dancing with the girlfriends of the drivers and having the time of your life. Your pulse quickens as Charles suddendly approaches, his confident stride sending a thrill down your spine.

"Hey there," he greets you with a charming grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Fancy a game of Too Hot?"

You're taken aback by the invitation, but the thrill of the challenge beckons you. "Sure, why not?" you reply, unable to resist the allure of his playful proposal. The two of you love challenges no matter what the situation is.

The rules are simple: two people kiss while keeping their hands to themselves, and the first to touch their partner loses. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the game, the tension between you palpable.

As your lips meet in a teasingly tender kiss, the world around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the electrifying connection between you and Charles. His touch is intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that blazes with each passing moment.

"Tu es un sacré compétiteur“ (You're quite the competitor)

Charles murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

„Mais je n'y vais pas de main morte avec toi, ma petite fleur“ (But I won't go easy on you, my little flower)

he adds playfully.

You respond with a playful challenge of your own, reveling in the thrill of the chase as you dance on the edge of temptation. Each kiss becomes a daring game of brinkmanship, testing the limits of self-control.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in the heated exchange, the boundaries between reality and desire blurring into a tantalizing haze. The world outside ceases to exist as you and Charles become locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to concede defeat.

But as the game reaches its climax, a surge of longing courses through you, threatening to overwhelm your resolve. With a breathless gasp, you instinctively reach out, your hand brushing against Charles's cheek in a moment of unguarded passion.

"Je gagne“ (I win)

he whispers triumphantly, a smug grin playing on his lips as he leans in to claim victory with a searing kiss.

„Je te laisse gagner parce que c'est la seule fois où tu le fais“ (I let you win because that‘s the only time you do)

You teased him again and couldn‘t help but laugh, seeing his baffled face. He puts his hand on your cheeks and squeezes them together. He looks down at me and shakes his head softly with a certain intensity to his eyes.

„Tu veux vraiment jouer à la cochonne avec moi ? Tu sais ce que les sales gosses obtiennent de mon amour.“ (you really want to play dirty with me? You know what brats get my love)

He caresses your cheek with his thumb as he tilted his head.

Ne m'oblige pas à te faire ça, ma belle. (Don‘t make me do it to you sweetcheeks)

He goes back to squeeze your cheeks together and pulls you closer to him with a warning look in his ocean eyes. As the night draws to a close and the party fades into memory, you carry with you the lingering warmth of Charles's touch, a tantalizing reminder of a fiery encounter that ignited sparks in the heart of Monaco.

As for what happens after the party? Only the two of them and maybe the neighbour will know ;).

Now that escalted quickly👀 HAVE MERCY ON ME!! I don‘t know how to write intimate moments aka the humpy dumpty so please take this as a chance to let your mind run freely 🥹

Reblog, comments and likes are aprreciated

[matenr0u]

Riku: Island Breeze

I was going to put this in my combat analysis, but it absolutely deserves its own post.

In 358/2 days, Riku wields Oblivion/Bygone Memories for the final encounter he has with Roxas. Having called out to him and realized that Roxas really is Sora’s nobody, Riku goes all out to bring him to Castle Oblivion where his best friend is sound asleep, having his memories pieced back together. 

During this iconic battle, Riku is specifically vulnerable to Aero: the power of wind. 

Why is this relevant, you might wonder. Riku is associated with a fair handful of things: bat wings, darkness, fleur-de-lis, but not wind.

On the contrary, Riku has a little known fondness for the wind. You could even say, it makes him feel nostalgic.

Fair enough, Roxas can hurt Riku with the wind because he misses the island breeze. Neat gameplay detail, no big deal. But if I can compel you to peer just a little closer… Because this is Riku— the guy who spent his days gazing enviously at the sea and the sky and brooding over his dark angsty feelings. This time, it actually is that deep. 

In other words Riku is weak to Roxas’ Aero attack because it reminds him of Sora.

Sounds like a reach, right? Allow me to demonstrate.

This passage alone is insane, but there’s more.

While Riku is elsewhere in Castle Oblivion reminiscing, Sora battles Repliku for the first time. This is before they have both been consumed with false memories.

Everything about this exchange is so Riku. It’s all of the real Riku’s messy, complicated feelings dialled up to 100 and Repliku doesn’t even understand why he’s having these thoughts. Sora is clueless of course.

So he runs away, and as he leaves, Sora picks up this…

After defeating Repliku, Sora finds the Aero card. The island breeze. Riku’s memories of chasing each other, rolling in the sand together, of jealously watching from afar as Sora and Kairi grew closer.

The way poor Repliku’s dramatic ass just drops it and runs away lmao

Some time later, following the second battle against Repliku, Sora obtains his lost Oblivion/Bygone Memories keyblade after talking to Namine. Wonder why Namine had that keyblade. Probably just a coincidence…

I’ll close this post with a few more of Riku’s thoughts.

Other Diamonds:

Chain of Memories:

“The wind brushed through Riku’s hair.

I wonder if I really will meet someone from my memories in this castle… I want to meet— Sora. More than Kairi, more than anything, I want to see Sora. I want to see him— and apologize.”

Translation credit: goldpanner, keijitranslates

[shalotttower]

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader Summary: You died and became a ghost. Now you can’t leave Chrollo, but at least there’s satisfaction in taunting him. Notes: yandere!Chrollo, ghost!Reader, past nonconsensual relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

"Do you ever wonder what it's like," you ask, watching Chrollo flip the pages of his book, "to be dead?"

He doesn't reply.

Of course he doesn't, it's simply not possible. Most conversations you have now are one-sided, monologues with occasional questions sprinkled in between which always stay unanswered. Because he can't hear you. Or see you. Or touch you, unless he accidentally walks through you, and it's probably the only time when Chrollo feels something.

Maybe that's why you keep doing it, walking right through him. Just to make his skin crawl like he once made yours.

But Chrollo only closes the window and gets a warm cardigan. Cold drafts are coming in more often these days, since fall is nearing its end.

It annoys you how meticulous he is.

You float above the tub while he brushes his teeth, staring at the faint cracks in the ceiling that weren't present three weeks ago.

"It's chilly here," your fingers sink deep into your thigh, like through butter, and yet it sends no signals down the nervous system to let your brain know. Strange, this body you have now ─ translucent like a jellyfish.

Chrollo rinses his mouth, you push the towel off the hook.

"I could use a cardigan too."

He doesn't get scared. Doesn't get uncomfortable, doesn't...anything, really. All Chrollo does is fix the towel and turn the bathroom lights off.

Fallen things get picked, switched objects ─ put back to their respective places, and doors locked shut. He goes about his day, sometimes drawing two mugs instead of one from the cupboard.

You could leave.

You sit on the balcony railing where Chrollo drinks his tea, and swing your legs in the air. Below your feet, cars move on the pavement like toys lined up in neat rows. People cross busy intersections, and the wind doesn't rustle your hair anymore.

Could. Could leave.

If only you knew how to do that. If only Chrollo wasn't attached to you, like a string tied to your wrist ─ invisible, but still so thick that it tugs you back whenever you try going further than a few blocks away.

You don't know why it's like this, but suspect it might have something to do with unfinished business.

Stuck here, you watch him read and brush his teeth, drink fancy tea and shake the snow globe he stole two weeks ago; the dancing fairy inside looks a tad much like you and you're debating whether pushing it off the shelf would be childish or not.

Sometimes it's frustrating being around him.

But sometimes, sometimes a door creaks and Chrollo stops in the middle of the opulently decorated space. The wallpaper has little fleur de lis printed on it, and heavy red curtains frame large windows.

This is when you go so, so still and stare.

"Dear?" he asks quietly.

There's nothing behind the door.

Just an empty hallway bathed in dim lighting.

You never reply. Because this is why you keep hanging nearby, even when there're many empty rooms in the penthouse, barely there, barely lingering ─ for the greatest and most profound pleasure of making him believe, just once, that perhaps, there's something else besides himself in this furnished apartment.

[letterful]

Jean Madar, chairman and CEO of InterParfums Inc, recently told Bloomberg that fragrance is part of a person’s “core identity”. And while cosmetic companies can face criticism for conflating external products with existential outcomes [...] perfume conveniently sidesteps the problems of the flesh. It’s not trying to change how you look, but how you feel, and, for the span of a spritz at least, it does. In the age of wellness-as-beauty and neurocosmetics, the science of scent is marketing gold.

[...] I wonder if what we’re after here is not a sense of self but a (related) sense of life.

I say “we” because – despite my documented skepticism of beauty brands – I, too, am powerless against a good perfume ad.

Last month, casually depressed and subconsciously seeking comfort and some sort of release, I spent $240 on a scent called Tears by Régime de Fleurs. “What a luxury to weep,” the website read. It described the perfume as “emotion in liquid form, the romance and the sadness”. It promised “nostalgia” too, with notes of lilac to remind me of my grandmother’s front yard and frankincense to call up childhood Sundays spent in incense-blessed church pews. I suppose I wanted Tears to take me back to a time when someone who loved me baked me cookies every week, when I believed in God and goodness, and life stretched ahead of me in an endless expanse of hope and potential.

Of course, it didn’t do that. It smelled fine. I felt something, for a second. But I was still me, and I was still mostly numb.

I thought of that perfume the other day while reading the preface to Henry James’s 1902 novel The Wings of the Dove. James summarized it as the story “of a young person conscious of a great capacity for life” – someone “passionately desiring” to “achieve, however briefly and brokenly, the sense of having lived”.

Something clicked: how to explain Tears if not a brief and broken sense of having cried?

[sims2packrat]

Fleur-Sims

Fleur-Sims is still on tumblr here, but there are some removed(?) downloads which are only available via wayback, and Fleur's sfs links are no longer working, leaving only the mediafire links. They have been active back in 2022 but you never know, so I decided to archive their sims. I made a sfs folder here. Previews included but I'll put them below as well.

The missing downloads are at the end of this post (there might be more missing sims from Fleur, this was only what I found from their tumblr and wayback).

Amber Heard (🥴): sfs | mediafire

Audrey Tautou: sfs | mediafire

Barbara Palvin: sfs | mediafire

Cara Delevingne: sfs | mediafire

Carice van Houten: sfs | mediafire

Chloe Moretz: sfs | mediafire

Emily Browning: sfs | mediafire

Gigi Hadid: sfs | mediafire

Helena Bonham Carter: sfs | mediafire

Jared Padalecki: sfs | mediafire

Kim Kardashian: sfs | mediafire

Kit Harington: sfs | mediafire

Krysten Ritter: sfs | mediafire

Laura Prepon (no preview): sfs | mediafire

Louis de Pointe du Lac: sfs

Bonnie Wright: sfs

Emilia Clarke: sfs

Lana Del Rey: sfs

MISSING DOWNLOADS

Anne Vyalitsyna, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Kaya Scodelario, Maisie Williams, Norman Reedus, Rose Leslie, Sophie Turner, Vanessa Paradis and Evanna Lynch.

Please re-upload if you have any of them!

[writers-potion]

Plant Symbolisms 🌱🌿🪴

Flora have a special corner in literature.

Starting from the Greco-Roman period when certain plants were representative of gods (like olive trees for Athena), plants have meant more than just a source of food or pleasure.

Lotus - Symbol of creation, rebirth, and the sun. The blue lotus represents spiritual enlightenment, while the white lotus symbolizes purity.

Papyrus - Represents prosperity, growth, and regeneration, often associated with the Nile River and the goddess Isis.

Mandrake - Associated with love, fertility, and aphrodisiac properties.

Poppy - Symbol of sleep, healing, and regeneration, often associated with the god of sleep, Hypnos.

Rose - Represents love, beauty, and the goddess Aphrodite.

Jasmine - Symbol of sensuality, love, and spiritual growth.

Palm - Represents victory, triumph, and eternal life, often associated with the god Osiris.

Acacia - Symbolizes resurrection and the afterlife, linked to the god Osiris and the Tree of Life.

Cornflower - Represents fertility, abundance, and regeneration.

Anemone - Symbol of protection, healing, and renewal.

Anemone, garden: Forsaken.

Almond, flowering: Hope.

Balm: Sympathy.

Bamboo: The emblem of Buddha. The seven-knotted bamboo denotes the seven degrees of initiation and invocation in Buddhism.

Bay leaf: I change but in death.

Bell flower, white: Gratitude.

Bluebell: Constancy.

Broken flower: A life terminated, mortality.

Buttercup: Cheerfulness.

Calla lily: Symbolises marriage.

Campanula: Gratitude.

Carnation, red: Beauty always new

Chrysanthemum: I love.

Clover, white: Think of me.

Clover, four-leaved: Be mine.

Cinquefoil: maternal affection, beloved daughter.

Convolvulus, major: Extinguished hopes or eternal sleep.

Coreopsis, Arkansa: Love at first sight.

Crocus: Youthful gladness.

Cuckoo Pint: Ardour.

Cypress tree: Designates hope.

Daffodil: Death of youth, desire, art, grace, beauty, deep regard.

Daisy: Innocence of child, Jesus the Infant, youth, the Son righteousness, gentleness, purity of thought.

Daisy, garden: I share your sentiment.

Dead leaves: Sadness, melancholy.

Dogwood: Christianity, divine sacrifice, triumph of eternal life, resurrection.

Fern: Sincerity, sorrow.

Figs, Pineapples: Prosperity, eternal life.

Fleur-de-lis: Flame, passion, ardour, mother.

Flower: frailty of life.

Forget-me-not: Remembrance / true love.

Furze or Gorse: Enduring affection.

Grapes: represent Christ.

Grapes and leaves: Christian faith.

Harebell: Grief.

Hawthorn: Hope, merriness, springtime.

Heartsease or Pansy: I am always thinking of you.

Holly: Foresight.

Honeysuckle: Bonds of love, generosity and devoted affection.

Honesty: Sincerity.

Ivy: Memory, immortality, friendship, fidelity, faithfulness, undying affection, eternal life, marriage.

Jonquil: “I hope for a return of affection.”

Lalla: Beauty, marriage.

Laurel leaves: Special achievement, distinction, success, triumph.

Marigold: Grief or despair.

Morning glory: Resurrection, mourning, youth, farewell, brevity of life, departure, mortality.

Mystic rose: Mother.

*some of these flower symbols have Greek or Roman origins but were also used in ancient Egyptian culture.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

🖱️References

https://www.proflowers.com/blog/plant-symbolism-guide

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/396668679699365428/

https://lilysflorist.com/blog/the-symbolism-of-flowers-in-literature-and-poetry-a-look-at-the-hidden-meanings-of-blooms-in-classic-texts/#:~:text=Rose%20%2D%20Represents%20love%2C%20beauty%2C,and%20the%20Tree%20of%20Life.