#ch; Laurel
Note
Hi starsong
Can you give me a metaphor to describe each of your blorbos?
A fun fact about me is I had to ask for clarification in regards to the term ‘blorbo’. If I’m understanding correctly, a blorbo is any character— be them from an established fandom or your own work— one daydreams about, fixates on, or otherwise turns their mind to for the purposes of escapism and entertainment.
While contemplating this new-to-me word, I encountered a post lamenting the dominance of male-aligned blorbos in fandom spaces. Apparently, it’s more common to see people openly obsess over such characters. I figured I’d do my part to further the female-aligned blorbo agenda by sharing with you the twelve “princesses” from my urban fantasy fairytale retelling.
Without further ado, here are the metaphors I thought up to describe the twelve “princesses” of the story.
Elowyn is that first crisp, dark breath of autumn breaking through the bright summer haze
Juniper is a crowded bar colored by cigarette smoke, strong liquor, and the glow of crooked neon signs
Holly is the warmth of fresh baked bread lovingly shaped by steady hands
Linden is the ruthless precision of a disciplined artist after decades spent honing their craft
Laurel is a steaming mug of curative tea sipped on a stormy night spent curled up in bed
Rowan is a bold, burning flame of determination in the quiet gloom of despair
Acacia is a sturdy, stolid mountain among flimsy, frantic reeds
Cassia is glossier than the pages of a fashion magazine— the wide, white-toothed grin and flutter of thick, black eyelashes she offers the crush of paparazzi just as artificial
Myrtle is every bit the coiled serpent— poised, beautiful, and unmistakably deadly
Olivia is owlish in her large, round reading glasses, her thin frame perched upon the window seat, an open book clutched in her hands
Willow is that first vivid swirl of paint on a stark, blank canvas
Hazel is a cheery shaft of golden sunshine shattering the dull morning’s fog
At first, I had the idea to compare each of the sisters to their sacred animal. In Faerie, each being has one, the identity of which depends on birth details and some religion-based world-building derails. After writing a few of the above metaphors, however, I changed my mind. The sisters’ sacred animals will remain a mystery for now. One or two did slip through, though…
Belatedly, I realize you tricked me into writing, Sleepy. Was that your scheme all along? Because it so worked.
#my characters#asks and answers#wip: pptt#ch: Elowyn#ch: Juniper#ch: Holly#ch; Laurel#ch: Linden#ch: Rowan#ch: Acacia#ch: Cassia#ch: Olivia#ch: Myrtle#ch: Willow#ch: Hazel
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very low q screenshots of my character + her 2 variants for the planescape game my friend is gonna run. mountain laurel is the central theme/aesthetic that inspired them :)
Laurel Spoonwood - Human - Feylost - Warlock - Pact of the Archfey
Ivy Latifolia - Tiefling - Outlander - Druid - Circle of Spores
Kalmia Grayana - Drow - Urchin - Ranger - Swarmkeeper
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doodled sappho bc i wanted to make sure i got my vision across vs what i have to work with ingame
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@atimeodyssey
Laurel Cinnamon
a princess diary
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Tagged: Two Truths and a Lie
Tagged by: @athenswrites (Thank you for tagging me!)
Tagging: Anyone who sees this because I need more writing friends!
Rules: make a poll listing three facts about an OC of your choice. One of the facts is a lie. Let your followers vote for the one they think is the lie.
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last line tag xxxiii
still around! steadily squirrelling away tags for when i’m a little less busy. this one is from @oh-no-another-idea, thanks for the tag! :)
here’s the ending from a recent little song challenge piece i wrote a few days ago featuring my favourite girl laurel
(extended for a shred of context // tw: brief unreality & mention of strangling):
“Laur?”
All at once, everything disappears—the pressure crushing her throat, the second reflection in the mirror. Laurel gasps in a breath, her hand flying to her neck. For a moment she expects to see bruises in the glass, but the skin of her throat is pale, untouched. It doesn’t even hurt.
The only thing out of place is the jagged black line of liquid eyeliner running down the side of her face, like a crack in a doll’s porcelain cheek.
“Laur?” Piper says again from the doorway, frowning now. “You okay?”
Turning back to the mirror, Laurel looks herself in the eye and takes in one slow, deep breath. Straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin. Reaches for a tissue—her hand trembling only slightly—and wipes the black mark off her cheek in one clean swipe.
“Perfect,” she says to Piper. “Just let me do my other wing, and I’ll be ready to go.”
i’ll tag @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @talesofsorrowandofruin @rose-bookblood @zmwrites and whoever else wants to share some recent writing :)
#for actual context laurel was doing her eyeliner when Something Happened#hence the mark down her face#i haven't posted about laurel's lore at all but i might post this full piece bc i think it's really cool#my writing#tag games#last line tag#ch: laurel
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Various other NPCs from the Chronicle :^)
#vampire: the masquerade#vtm#vampire#tremere#ventrue#malkavian#my art#own art#artists on tumblr#man I love being able to draw my blorbos#ch: Rumiko#ch: Fleming#ch: Mia#ch: Laurel#chronicle: new orleans by night
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May 2020
#pillars of eternity#the watcher#norarts#northssketchbook#artists on tumblr#illustration#ch: dindelia laurelle#I love her so much^^
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What aesthetics would all (and I mean all if you could 🙏) of your characters be? Like clean girl, rockstar gf, etc? 🩵🩵
oh god let me think
laurel dark academia
briar pink pilates princess but like… without the pilates lol
livvy dark academia too tbh
emilia camila dunne core (this is an aesthetic i personally think we all should enforce). that or whimsigoth
holly reputation era (again. not really an aesthetic but go w it lol)
mia rockstar’s girlfriend ofc ofc — or whimsigoth (i love whimsigoth)
izzy 00s but in a devon lee carlson vlog/bratz kind of way
ruby final girl in a jen’s body femme fatale way
#asks#ch: isabelle oswald#ch: mia black#ch: emilia salvatore#ruby brenner#briar crouch#ch: laurel crouch#ch: livvy crouch
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12:54 AM EST December 25, 2023:
John Mayall & Bluesbreakers -
"Somebody's Acting Like A Child"
From the album Blues From Laurel Canyon
(November 1968)
Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm
File under: Featuring Mick Taylor
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Laurel, waking up feeling energised and rejuvenated after a good night's sleep: Good morning, Vas! Wow! We woke up at the same time!
Avas, chronic insomniac, who’s been awake all night: *nods in sleep deprivation*
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Prompt List, Part 2: Days 4 - 6
Welcome to Part 2! It's still January, but Tamlin Week is fast approaching. Are you feeling inspired yet? Here is Part 1 if you missed it!
Day 4: Calanmai/Happily Ever After
Calanmai
“They’re setting up bonfires—for Calanmai. It’s in two days.”
“For what?”
“Fire Night?”
I shook my head. “We don’t celebrate holidays in the human realm. Not after you—your people left. In some places, it’s forbidden. We don’t even remember the names of your gods. What does Cala—Fire Night celebrate?”
He rubbed his neck. “It’s just a spring ceremony. We light bonfires, and … the magic that we create helps regenerate the land for the year ahead.”
“How do you create the magic?”
“There’s a ritual. But it’s … very faerie.”
~ACOTAR Ch. 19
Calanmai was heavily inspired by the Welsh festival Calan Mai (the “First Day of May”, or May Day), the first day of Summer. If you’re interested in the history and customs of Calan Mai, here is a handy Wikipedia article summarizing it.
Calanmai in Prythian is rather different, though, as it signals the start of spring, not summer. Here are some major keywords to consider as you start planning your next project:
Fire Night
The Great Rite
The Start of Spring
The Hunter and The Maiden
Hills
Drums
Bonfire
Cave and/or Hollow
Great and Terrible Magic
Laurel Leaves
Blue Woad
Ceremony
Happily Ever After
Once upon a time, there was a magical land where it was always spring... We know what happened in the middle of the story, but what needs to happen to help us reach that fairy tale ending, that "happily ever after"?
What does a Happily Ever After look like for Tamlin?
How do you envision the end of Tamlin's story, or is it only the beginning?
Who does he share it with?
What does it mean for him and the Spring Court?
Day 5: Shapeshifter/Masquerade
Shapeshifter
“You didn’t have a mask as a beast...”
“The blight is cruel like that.”
Either live as a beast, or live with the mask.
~ACOTAR Ch. 7
While Tamlin's beast form was the theme of last year's Day 1, consider this quote from Rhysand later in the book:
“…Your Tamlin has brute strength and shape-shifting; my arsenal is a far deadlier assortment.”
I knew he wasn’t bluffing—not when I’d felt those talons in my mind. “So you can’t shape-shift? It’s not some High Lord specialty?”
“Oh, all the High Lords can. Each of us has a beast roaming beneath our skin, roaring to get out. While your Tamlin prefers fur, I find wings and talons to be more entertaining.”
~ACOTAR Ch. 38
What other forms could Tamlin take?
How could he use his shapeshifting in day-to-day life?
What does shapeshifting feel like?
What toll does it take?
Masquerade
Alis tapped on her mask, the metal pinging beneath her nails. “After that, she hosted a masquerade Under the Mountain for herself. All the courts were present. A party, she said—to make amends for what she’d done to Lucien, and a masquerade so he didn’t have to reveal the horrible scarring on his face. The entire Spring Court was to attend, even the servants, and to wear masks—to honor Tamlin’s shape-shifting powers, she said. He was willing to try to end the conflict without slaughter, and he agreed to go—to bring all of us.”
~ACOTAR Ch. 32
While this is a similar prompt to last year's Day 2 prompt: Masks, we hope that the following questions will help you explore this concept further:
How did Tamlin choose his mask?
What other shapes could Tamlin's mask take?
What exactly happened at the Masquerade?
What would the Masquerade look like if it had taken place somewhere else, like the Spring Court, for example?
Day 6: Dreams/Fairy Tale AU
Dreams
Even though the Night Court uses a lot of dream imagery (e.g. The Court of Dreamers), dreams are not an exclusive concept.
This was such a lovely dream. I’d never slept so wonderfully before. So warm, nestled beside him. Calm. Faintly, echoing into my world of slumber, he spoke again, his breath caressing my ear. “You’re exactly as I dreamed you’d be, too.”
~ACOTAR Ch. 23
What would Tamlin dream about?
Are they good dreams, or bad dreams?
Do his dreams ever come true?
Is there any meaning to his dreams? Like the Flower Language prompt, consider using an outside resource like a Dream Dictionary for specific interpretations of your ideas.
Perhaps Tamlin dreams of a happier ending to the story he ultimately got (unless you believe his story actually ended at Book 1, in which case, you're in good company!)
And speaking of happy endings...
Fairy Tale AU
According to this YouTube video featuring Sarah J. Maas herself, the story of A Court of Thorns and Roses was inspired by: Beauty and the Beast; East o’ the Sun, West o’ the Moon; and The Ballad of Tam Lin.
What would Tamlin's story be like if he were part of another fairy tale?
Consider this list of the most well-known stories for inspiration:
Cinderella
Sleeping Beauty
Snow White
Rapunzel
Little Red Riding Hood
Rumpelstiltskin
The Little Mermaid
The Frog Prince
Hansel and Gretel
Jack and the Beanstalk
For a more comprehensive selection of lesser known works, check out this link on Wikipedia from each of Andrew Lang’s Fairy Books.
We hope you feel inspired! Part 3, which covers ideas and suggestions for Day 7: Free Day, will be coming soon!
#tamlin#pro tamlin#tamlin week prompts#tamlin week#tamlinweek#tamlin week 2024#tamlinweek2024#acotar#a court of thorns and roses
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laurel evans — bad moon
darkness does not always equate to evil,
just as light does not always bring good.
#writeblr#hpedit#harry potter oc#harry potter#writeblr community#moodboard#ch: laurel#mine: all#mine: edits#inspo: bad moon#wip: bad moon
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Love Notes (Ch. 4)
Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader
AO3 link
The next few weeks were risky for you and any attempts to deliver a mix CD to Larissa. You had hoped to drop one in her mail slot near the faculty lounge; many of the faculty have a dedicated space for students to drop off papers, forms, and so on. Thankfully, not only students used it to submit assignments. It wasn’t monitored, so it would be a likely place for a secret admirer to utilize.
During the first attempt, you had the gift tucked in your hand on your way to the mailboxes. No one else was around. Most faculty were not holding any exams since the semester had concluded early due to the culmination of Ms. Thornhill’s, or….Laurel Gates’, plans. Students and a majority of the faculty and staff would depart soon for their own homes admits winter break. This felt like the only time you were able to deliver the CD without major suspicion.
As you were about to slide the letter and CD into the slot for Principal Weems, Larissa appeared from down the hall. Gods, you contemplate at the coincidence and close call. You had hoped to deliver the next installment of your never-ending playlist for her before she could begin moving around the academy grounds. She was advised to continue resting, and her sprightly recovery was not anticipated by the hospital. Granted, the normie hospital in Burlington didn’t (and couldn’t) take into account how fast Larissa’s shapeshifter antibodies regenerated. You felt thankful for that fact, because otherwise the poison would have taken its toll on her body, even with the antidote.
Sauntering towards you after meeting your gaze, Larissa inquired, “Want to get some air with me?”
She had bugged you nearly every day for the past week to go outside with her. Or, rather, let her go outside at all. You were keeping a surprisingly firm stance her recovery. You typically wouldn’t be that bothered in your day to day, but, in this case, you knew the woman would work herself to the bone if you did not set parameters for her. Wow, I sound like a nagging partner, you thought humorously.
You quickly manuever your hand behind you to ensure Larissa did not witness the nearly placed gift that would undoubtedly out you. “Uh, yeah. I’d like that.”
Taken aback, Larissa gaped. She didn’t expect for you to agree so readily. In fact, she had prepared a small speech about the benefits of fresh air to recovery and maintaining routine, assured that she would have to convince you.
You link arms with the taller woman, struggling slightly to recompense the height difference between you two as you walked. Having a hand on Larissa would provide support and protection for your first walk through the campus. However, you’d be lying if you said grasping her warm forearm didn’t feel like the most natural and comforting action.
Delivering the mix CD would have to wait.
—
Outside, you see Larissa light up after taking a deep breath in of the crisp air. She excitedly pulls you along a walking path, eventually pointing out different birds. “You know about birds?” you ask incredulously, staring at her in wonder. This woman was constantly surprising you with her complexity and dynamism. You felt like you could never tire of her and all that she beholds.
“Of course. They’re astonishing. I take note of beauty when I see it.” Her eyes seek out and linger over your own. You attempt to suppress a smile and growing blush. Your head swam with possibility. Did she mean you?
The rest of your walk together veered away from school grounds and into the woods, most likely near the crypts and ritual sites. Most of the Vermont trees were barren. No leaves, no snow—only varying shades of brown straggling upward towards the sky. You were thankful to have a walking path with large evergreen trees that added a bit of color to the excursion. You noted spruce, fir, and pine trees throughout your chosen path, and you wondered if Larissa would be interested in the differences.
At that moment, the trees in question betrayed you. Your boot caught on a rather hefty root hidden by the fallen leaves and brush, causing you to topple dramatically. Strong, gloved hands reach out to secure you, but the unexpected force of the fall overtook you both.
You land with a thud on top of Larissa. Her attempt to steady you with her hands turned into her arms enveloping you, taking most of the brunt of the sudden trip to the ground.
“Oh my gods, are you okay?!” you breathe out frantically.
With an echo of pain already leaving her face to be replaced by something else, she lets out a deep, hearty laugh. You two lay together howling until your stomach aches from the effort. Settling from the joyous outburst, you realize you’re still atop of the tall woman, your bodyweight pressing against her. Larissa makes no move to loosen her grip on you or unsnake her arms from around your back. With your faces this close together in the cold air, your breaths are seen passing between you two, intermingling.
Your hair dangles and frames Larissa’s face below you. A flood of emotions rise in your chest as you stare at her plump lips slightly parted. You involuntarily release your tongue to wet your own lips. Larissa notices, because her eyes stay on the action, begging your tongue to make a reappearance.
Before you can give yourself over to the building ache to meld your body into hers, to crawl inside and make a home in the woman, you remember she’s freshly out of the hospital and could be in pain. Worry overwhelms you and you cup her face with your hand and suggest, “Let’s get you up.”
When you and Larissa finally move onward after the tree root encounter, you search for almost anything to establish a new conversation subject away from the budding desire for continued closeness you yearned for. Turning to winter break and students, you two bring up Wednesday and Enid. You had seen Enid packing her bags, looking unusually excited to leave for winter break. You had assumed after last year’s lackluster winter break and this year’s rocky Parent’s Weekend that the young werewolf wouldn’t be looking forward to being away from Nevermore.
“I believe Ms. Sinclair will be visiting with Ms. Addams over break,” Larissa confides.
“Ah. …Do you think they’ll come back and have finally disclosed their feelings for each other?”
“I—what?” Larissa attempts, before finally relenting to gossiping. “I’m not sure. Wednesday is as hard to crack as ever after everything.”
“Come on! Give her some credit. I see the way she looks at Enid. Wednesday can tolerate her far longer than anyone else. That’s practically a declaration of love.”
You and Larissa chat candidly as you loop around back to the school grounds. It was freeing being able to broach almost any topic with someone—her time at Nevermore, your family growing up, her hopes and plans for the future. Finally, the sunset begins to part further down the horizon, threatening darkness.
“Let’s go, Larissa. We’ve been out here for hours. Let’s not get lost in the dark.” You take Larissa’s hand to tug and direct her to an entrance close to her living quarters. You both head inside, content with the day’s exploration of each other and the grounds.
—
A day after your stroll through the grounds and forest with Larissa, students began departing for winter break. Great…, you mused. Utilizing the faculty mailboxes and concealing your identity would be even harder. You must wait again.
You weren’t really convinced Larissa would be under the impression that a student was creating these thoughtful gifts for her. She was too duty-driven to allow that specific morally grey area to open up. Rather, even other faculty and people outside of Nevermore would be less likely to be wandering the halls and gaining access to drop off the surprise.
With no way to deliver them, you began piling up heart wrenching compositions and playlists for the silver-haired blonde. At this rate, you wouldn’t be able to keep them hidden in your living quarters. Currently, you were keeping the CDs behind a hollowed out brick in your room. The brick wasn’t removable, but luckily you were able to phase your hand through into the open space where the mixes laid, safely awaiting their true home.
With the mixes halting, you could deduce Larissa was on edge. More restless. She constantly had the CDs already delivered playing, whether she had company or not. If you passed by her quarters throughout the day, you could hear the echo of the songs you had chosen for her. Beyond this, you also noticed her pacing more often and not relaxing her shoulders as much. She was usually never one to give manifestation to anxious energy. In an attempt to settle the taller woman’s mind, you wanted to keep her busy over the break.
Most of the faculty would be departing along with students. You wanted to stay behind with Larissa. You also…didn’t have anywhere to go. Your mother passed when you were young. Your father blamed you for her passing. No siblings. Any friends were either spending time with families of their own or were other faculty that had taken their leave until the spring semester began.
Your curiosity piqued, Why was Larissa staying? Was the school where she wanted to be or the only place she had? Regardless of the answers, you were set on making sure you two made the most out of winter break.
You and Larissa had taken to creating ice lanterns, even though Imbolc was more than a month away. They were just too gorgeous to pass up. In between breakfast and dinner together one evening, you surprised her with homemade sourdough starter. She had admitted in passing weeks ago that she never had the time to bake; you were determined to change that, so much so that you gave up your own starter that you had going for years.
Anything the two of you could realistically achieve over the break, you had written down on the back of an old music sheet. “Break Bucket List” you titled it. The list included incorporating audiobooks into your breakfast routine, painting in Nevermore’s art room, learning how to mold things from clay and silicone, gazing at the stars from the observatory and uncovering lore about them. It was surprising how many stars and formations were named after misogynist Greek and Roman myths. You and Larissa would take turns looking into the background of specific constellations to surprise the other with during these self-proclaimed astronomy sessions.
When knee-deep snow appeared overnight, you two couldn’t help but declare a snowball fight. These spontaneous moments radiated so much joy from the usually stressed and tense woman. You treated them as precious moments that could be ripped away at any time. They almost weren’t able to happen, and you wouldn’t take Larissa’s presence for granted.
Mid-fight you ran past her and once again tripped, cascading into the woman. Nervous about knocking over Larissa twice recently, you were about to apologize and reason that you were a music professor and not athletics coach for a reason. Before you could, though, the woman under you broke the tension by reaching her arms out, fisting snow, and smashing them over both of your ears with a mischievous cackle. Reeling from the surprise attack, you fell over to the side of her. You felt like personified ice cream sandwich. She quickly rose, anticipating the incoming payback.
“You’re going to pay for that! Let’s see how you like it,” you let out with a grunt.
Having already scrambled to her feet, Larissa taunted you with faux bashful, blinking eyelids, “Think you can reach it?” You proceeded to run around the taller woman, hopping up like an excited puppy to attempt to shove snow into her own playful face.
When you two were out of breath and needed a bit of a rest from the energetic activity, you settled her down on a bench between the back of Nevermore and the forest. You instructed her to close her eyes.
Once confirming she wouldn’t peek and her scandalized response that she would never, you went to work. All she could hear was snow moving about and strange, sharp chiseling.
When you felt satisfied, you told her to open for the grand reveal. Her gaze fell on an intricate ice sculpture. Giving her time to inspect it, you slowly began to pull wind through the piece in differing directions, making distinct notes and music erupt from the inanimate object.
Larissa looked at you utterly enamored. While your heartbeat picked up its pace at her admiration, you couldn’t pinpoint its exact meaning. The magical quality of the music coming from the snow’s transformation was enough to garner a look like that from anyone. You wondered if you should hope that her feelings are in any way similar to yours. Surely that wasn’t such an outrageous notion.
Technically, you had spent more nights falling asleep in her bed than your own recently. It seemed like you two never wanted the extra time to end. It was enjoyable experiencing Larissa’s more carefree side; it looked quite good on her. This desire to spend time, though, meant you two often moved into the bedroom to finish listening to podcasts, to read, to drink and chat. Try as you might, you felt so safe next to the woman. When sleep inevitably came, you could never fight it.
You understood how after your tired, often active, days you both fell asleep. You were less sure why every time you did sleep over, her hands snaked around your torso. You felt rigid the first few times, terrified she would awaken and angrily throw you out or brand you as predatory. As the nights with her arms reaching out to you continued, though, you began to lean into her embrace. Embarrassingly, you’ve even taken to nuzzling against her neck, breathing in her scent.
Sometimes guilt gnawed at you over these lingering touches. Other times it felt like such a relief to briefly experience comforts that you weren’t sure would ever come to fruition deliberately.
—
Even with your distractions, Larissa had taken to the bulletin board in the front hall of Nevermore to post a note seeking the identity of her secret admirer. Well, she didn’t phrase it like that exactly. Of course the head of the school didn’t post that she was being flirted with and pursued for anyone that found themselves on campus to read.
You considered a way to convey messages to her without immediately pointing to yourself. I mean, you can’t just pin a response to the board while only a few of the faculty and staff were here. You’re not sure why rom coms seem so straight forward, as if anyone in their right mind considers taking out an entire full page advertisement in a newspaper to correspond with the object of their desire. Then again, Larissa did gravitate towards 80’s power ballads. You briefly imagine standing outside her office with a boombox.
You did have an idea, though. You could move forward with a scavenger hunt, possibly leaving hidden messages/codes in your letters and mixes. You knew the brilliant and perceptive woman would be able to solve them, especially with her constant repetition of the music in her office. If you set all that up, you’re sure you could muster the courage to be waiting for her at the end when she figured it out.
—
Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @justcallmelittleone. If you'd like tagged in the future, just let me know. Also, I swear I have undiagnosed ADHD or ASD, so if you wanted tagged and aren't, I could ~not~ remember or read between the lines. Please let me know again! <3
#love notes#chapter 4#larissa weems#larissa weems x reader#principal weems#larissa x reader#principal larissa weems#wednesday#ao3#fanfiction#gwendoline christie#music teacher#nevermore academy#boss/employee relationship#principal/teacher#mix cd#slow burn#mutual pining
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The Grand Duchesses and sweets
Scientists working with the dental remains of three of the Grand Duchesses concluded that their dental structure and fillings suggested they were “fond of sweets”.
A favourite of the Grand Duchesses in the palace was Jim Hercules, an African American servant. The Grand Duchesses’ aunt, Olga Alexandrovna, recalls how Jim would spend his “annual holiday in the States and brought back jars of guava jelly as presents for the children.” Jim also brought them other American candy, and toys for their playroom.
The head baker at the palace, Ermolaev, specialised in making pastries and confectionery, and even the yacht Standart was equipped with a confectionery kitchen. However, the children still enjoyed the novelty of foreign imported sweets. In June 1912, it was reported that “when the Grand Duchess Anastasia, daughter of the Emperor Nicholas of Russia, celebrates the eleventh anniversary of her birth on June 18, she will have an abundant supply of American candy. Curtis Guild Jr, American Ambassador to Russia, left New York Tuesday on the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse with a trunkful of candy for her.”
In 1916, the Governor of Tver sent the Grand Duchesses pryaniki, a sweet gingerbread cookie biscuit that the region specialised in manufacturing. Sweets were also discussed by fans of the Grand Duchesses: Dolores Sybilla Adam, a teenager from California, once wrote a fan mail letter to Olga Nikolaevna, writing “I should dearly love to make you a great big box of candy and send it to you, from your friend, away in sunny California.”
A love for sweets ran in the family. Conservators recently found a half-chewed piece of sugar paste candy hidden within the dress of the children’s aunt, Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna!
Sources:
Correspondence of the Russian Grand Duchesses: Letters of the Daughters of the Last Tsar, George Hawkins, ([n.p], Independently Published, 2020) [no page numbers], letter beginning Dolores Sybilla Adam to Olga and Tatiana, Nov 25 1913, Amazon Kindle eBook
LUNCH ON THE BALCONY: Recipes from the table of Russia’s last imperial family, Helen Azar, ([n. p.], Independently Published, 2022), Ch. ‘The Confectionary’, [n. p. n] Amazon Kindle eBook
The Many Deaths of Tsar Nicholas II, Wendy Slater, (Oxfordshire: Routledge, 2007), Ch. ‘True Crime’, p. 40, Google Books eBook
Anon. ‘RomanovsOneLastDance’, ‘June 1912’, Tumblr, 25 March 2016
Nicholas and Alexandra, Robert K. Massie, (New York: Laurel, 1985), Ch. ‘The Tsar’s Village’, p. 123, archive.org eBook
Helen Azar, ‘LUNCH ON THE BALCONY: Recipes from the table of Russia’s last imperial family’,
(2022), Ch. ‘The Confectionary’
Photos:
Public domain, GARF, Heritage Auctions, HA.com, Russia Beyond
#olga nikolaevna#tatiana nikolaevna#maria nikolaevna#anastasia nikolaevna#otma#romanovs#sources#romanov#russian history#sweets#confectionary#cookies#my own
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all my friends are heathens
skin-engraving
Гравіювання на шкіряних виробах