#the language of love
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Sebastian is expressing his love for Ciel through flowers
When looking back at all of Yana's previous artworks, where she depicts Sebastian and Ciel often in pictures with flowers, many have debated the significance of flower symbolism in Yana's pieces. While Yana has said that she enjoys playing with flower symbolism in Black Butler art, she never quite stated the reason behind that. It was not until a while ago when I found this information about the significance of flower language in the Victorian era that I understood how much Yana pays close attention to historical context:
"In the Victorian era, when expressing emotions was often considered inappropriate, the giving of flowers was a common way to convey feelings without speaking them aloud." (source).
this gives further meaning to all the flower symbolism Yana uses in her pieces. It's not merely an artistic choice, and it's not merely her liking flowers. It is part of the narrative. Back in the Victorian era, flower language was the most common way people expressed emotions because being open about emotions was improper, especially in high social classes.
which means that her flower drawings with Sebastian and Ciel have way more textual meaning with the flower language. It even gives it an explanation through the lens of the story, rather than her artistic choice. If given an explanation through the narrative, Sebastian may be gifting all those flowers to Ciel as a way to express something in particular. And if we remember correctly, he's gifted him yellow mimosas (they symbolize secret love), and of course, Yana's most recent artwork where Sebastian is giving Ciel a bright red rose in a cup of tea (Which symbolizes romantic love, lust, desire, passion). Perhaps Yana's flower symbolism is tied even more to the story per se because it's saying that the flowers are Sebastian's way of expressing his repressed feelings towards Ciel. This ties more into the theory that Sebastian's character development slowly ties into the fact that he cannot explain why all of a sudden he's falling in love with this mortal human.
Here's the mimosa art, for a deeper look into it. Ciel is wearing the mimosas over his head, in something that might appear to be a hat. Who is the only person who dresses Ciel? Sebastian, of course. Sebastian made sure to delicately place those yellow mimosas over Ciel's head. He wanted to make sure Ciel received the flowers, if not the message.
And a closer look into the new GFantasy cover. The position of the red rose takes significance because it's in a teacup, which means that Sebastian directly handed Ciel the rose, since he is the one that always makes Ciel his afternoon tea. He gave Ciel that rose because he wanted Ciel to notice.
Thus, the historical context takes on more significance when considering what could've been considered an "impropriety" and therefore not morally correct to declare out loud. Sebastian appears before Ciel with yellow mimosas and red roses, while trying to subtly convey the message that he is, indeed, in love with him.
#sebaciel#black butler#ciel phantomhive#sebastian michaelis#kuroshitsuji#meta#meta post#sebaciel meta#Flower language#Symbolism#midnightasteris#Sebastian x Ciel#Ciel x Sebastian#red roses#Yellow mimosas#All part of the language of flowers#the language of love
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Matters of the Heart (Hommage a Marc Chagall) ...
Short note: After a long hiatus I put my old easel back up and started painting again.
Yes. It takes time . But - big YESSS - it's worth it.
#art#handmade#painted poetry#hommage#marc chagall#the language of love#matters of the heart#show some heart#love#love love love#all you need is love#love peace and understanding#understanding#what matters
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Happiness is holding someone in your arms and knowing you hold the whole world. - Orhan Pamuk
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Song by Pepino Gagliardi
#Italian songs#passionate#romance#the language of love#music#poetry#thoughts#feelings#poets on tumblr#music is life
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It ain’t easy….. but so worth it.
🌳🥰🌳
#foodforthesoul#foodforthought#ilovethis♥️🌳♥️#sage advice#the language of love#the language of self love🌳❤️🌳#inspiration#self love first🌳❤️🌳
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Thank you for this wonderful prompt @paperclippedmime - here's my best shot for now, chapter one of two.
The Language of Love
a Defender Strange x Sorceress Reader romance
rating: general audience; fluff and pining
word count: 1.7k
Oh, sii ancora il mio cuore! Words that sprung to mind as Stephen watched you approach him from across the courtyard. Of all the languages at his command, he most often fell back upon Italian when he allowed himself to give into the softness that filled his chest in your presence. Oh, be still my heart! Il mio cuore. You had laid claim to it months ago--without even trying--and he had done his damnedest since that time to keep his love and unfulfillable longing, secret. Especially from you.
Initially, Stephen had questioned himself ‘why Italian?’, rather than one of the other dozens of languages in his repertoire. Yes, it was a romance language in the classical sense—as were French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Romanian—but he soon realized there was more to his choice than that.
Though you didn’t look at all like her, you somehow evoked the image of his first serious crush, the woman who had subtly set his standard for feminine beauty when he was still a boy. Sophia Loren as Dulcinea in the film Man of La Mancha.
The movie had been one of his mother’s favorites (as she adored Peter O’Toole) and she had taken him along to a 20th anniversary showing at The Rubicon, the local 99-cent theatre that often featured oldies which catered to a mature audience. Beverly Strange had thought young Stephen might enjoy the tale of an idealistic knight tilting for justice in a world grown cynical. She couldn’t have anticipated he would view the leading lady with stars in his eyes. Stephen ended up crushing on Loren and crushing hard until his heart moved on to another big screen icon--Jessica Lange—a year or so later.
The bright, midday sun lent additional luster to your thick, dark hair, worn in a long, loosely woven braid over your shoulder. He had never seen you wear it unbound, though in his fantasies when you came to him at last to confess your love and desire for him, you gladly loosed it to lavish upon the bare skin of his arms and chest and…
Stephen closed his eyes a moment and took a long slow breath, re-squaring his shoulders. Cool it man; these are the exact thoughts you can’t give play to outside your quarters! You are the Sorcerer Supreme, and such musings compromise your ability to properly perform your responsibilities. Yet when he opened his eyes, they immediately sought yours. Exotic, almond-shaped, deep jade eyes, made pale and crystalline by the sunlight. Your precious lips pursed in a mischievous smile when you realized he saw you drawing near. He dipped his head in greeting, admonishing himself not to gape at the grace of your movements and your unapologetically voluptuous curves; the simple robes you’d selected when you had achieved the rank of Master couldn’t hide the supple fullness of your figure.
Intellectually, Stephen understood he saw you with the eyes of a man hopelessly in love, but found no fault in his idealized view of you. Of course you had become the most beautiful woman in the world to him; wasn’t that as it should be when a man’s heart had fallen irretrievably for that one special person? Few in his life today knew he was at heart a genuine Romantic, and it felt like half a lifetime at least, since he’d allowed that part of his nature to breathe and return to life. It felt so damn good to feel this deeply in love again—especially in the wake of his failures with Christine Palmer—but it couldn’t have come at a more inopportune stage of his life. As Sorcerer Supreme, his commitment to the protection of humanity and the universe at large was absolute, and he could see no path forward that would allow him the glorious distraction of building a future with the woman who felt to him like a soulmate.
In the initial flush of his infatuation, Stephen had toyed with the idea of assigning you to serve at one of the Sanctums, so to remove the temptation to confess that his feelings for you had grown well beyond the friendship you shared. But each time he resolved to send you away, he couldn’t carry it through, for he couldn’t bring himself to give up the exquisite torture of having you near—though you remained perfectly unaware of how keenly he wished for you to see and know what you meant to him. Let alone return his feelings in kind. And so now as ever, he composed his face and braced himself to greet you as his friend, and nothing more.
You smirked as you looked him over, head to toes, and nodded your approval. “Welcome back, Stephen. That was a quick trip and I see you’re no worse for the wear. For a change.”
“Guess I got lucky this time…” he conceded with a wee grin, daring a fresh endearment, this time in Romanian, “…porumbelul meu dulce.” My sweet dove.
Planting your hands on your hips, you rolled your eyes, daring him, “Hmmmm. That’s a new one. Care to share what it means?”
If only you knew, he thought opting for the little white lie, “By sweet fortune blessed.”
You narrowed your eyes a moment as if testing the truth of his statement, mulled his translation over a few moments more and then answered, “I’d agree with that, Stephen. Every day you return safe and whole from your battles are blessed ones.” Your gaze fell askance, and Stephen felt breathless; his instinct at such times—when your voice grew softer than ordinary speech and you suddenly couldn’t hold his gaze--insisted that you bore at least an echo of the affection he felt for you, though the hopeful moment passed too quickly. Eyes still averted from meeting his, you added modestly, “And I…I mean we…the ranks of those committed to the same mission are…are blessed to have our brilliant leader back among us…” The slight blush that filled your cheeks was pure and softly becoming, and of course his heart seized upon it, as another hint that you cared for him beyond the strictures of shared service and friendship.
“It’s good to be home,” Stephen nodded, his fingers tingling with the urge to cup your jaw and draw your face close and finally put an end to the façade he’d built between you two. One of these days I won’t be able to keep this secret any longer. That day is coming soon, my darling. Just give me one little sign…a single nudge…that you want me to claim you as mine.
But that day was not today, it seemed, so instead he exclaimed heartily, “And I’m famished—feels like it’s been a week since I’ve had anything decent to eat! Have I missed lunch service?”
Your shyness passed—on his behalf, as he knew it would—and you grinned up at him. “I think you’re in time to catch the tail end, Stephen.” You slipped your arm through his to pull him along to the dining hall. “And if not, I’ll scare you up a meal fit for your victorious return.”
“I was counting on it, mon chouchou,” he replied, patting your hand as the two of you strolled back across the courtyard. Stephen sometimes wondered if you had a clue that this endearment meant more than ‘dear friend’—but if that was the case, you gave him no indication. “And I expect you to fill me in on how life in Kamar-Taj has been going in my absence, so I hope you don’t have any pressing plans this afternoon.”
“As I’m free for the next couple of hours, I’m sure I can catch you up,” you assured him, and it seemed to him that you had subtly nestled against his side (unless that was just wishful thinking), “And I expect to hear all the details of your latest exploits. Which Defenders joined you this time?”
Stephen cleared his throat, preparing to tell his tale. If he painted himself the hero of his adventures with the Defenders, you never seemed to mind, and rarely questioned if he had exaggerated the role he played in victory over the enemies he faced as their leader. You were wise enough to allow him to wear the hero mantle, but also bold enough to remind him, when necessary, that though you accepted his tall tales for the sake of your friendship, he needed to remember to temper his retelling when it came to recounting it with any other Master. “Well, it was almost a solo mission,” he began, silently reveling in your undivided attention, ready to prolong the tale however he might, just to remain in your company. “But lucky for me, I managed to convince Banner, Sam Wilson, and Valkyrie to join me. Without them…well…I probably would’ve needed to portal straight to the Infirmary.”
You gasped softly at that, and Stephen could have sworn you shivered. As much as he prized your concern for his safety, he vowed right then not to give you cause for worry. At least in this telling, as you sat him down in the empty kitchen and busied your hands by making him a heaping plate of leftovers and cool cup of fresh squeezed lemonade, he softened his tale enough to ease your mind that he had faced any real danger.
He had never known an interlude of true domestic bliss in his adult life and given his current responsibilities, he never expected to--but for that brief while in the compound kitchen, Stephen got a glimpse of what it could be like to be a simple man bound to the woman of his dreams. Wherein the only service they would be committed to was to love and comfort and cherish one another. Oh amore mio--he was thinking--se solo potesse essere cosi!
Oh my love, if only it could be so!
(to be continued)
tagging some fellow Defender fans: @paperclippedmime @fanartka @harlekin6 @strangelockd @doctorstrangeaskblog @cerene-ciderr @wolfstarhufflepuff @veryladyqueen @wint3r-h3art @ironstrange1991 @sanctumsanctorumshenanigans
buy me a coffee?☕
Feedback/Reblogs are incredibly meaningful. Please support content creators by doing us the honor. Thank you!
#my writing#The Language of Love#Defender Strange#Defender Strange x Sorceress Reader#Defender Strange x Female Reader#Defender Strange x Y/N#fluff#pining#mutual pining#two pining idiots who can't see how much the other loves them#doctor strange fanfiction#doctor strange fan fiction#stephen strange fan fiction#stephen strange fanfiction#doctor strange x female reader#doctor strange x y/n#stephen strange x female reader#stephen strange x y/n#My Beloved Defender#Strangebatch#My Eternal Muse#Ugh. I know. I know. This is probably corny beyond words. But if that's the case it's because I've lost my touch.🥺🥺🥺
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The Language of Love:
Part Three
Physical Affection-
There used to be a time in Will’s life where Horace touching him meant nothing but pain. A punch, kick, slap. The boys fought all throughout their childhoods. Will would taunt Horace with words, Horace would retaliate with his fists. And then they grew up. They realized that family was in short supply. Realized how much they needed to rely on each other. So their bond grew, their comfort with each other grew. And Will discovered something he never knew about his brother.
Horace was extremely tactical.
He was always giving hugs or high-fives. He was quicker to grab someone’s arm for their attention than to call out their name. It was something Will hadn’t expected. But he didn’t mind. Horace’s physical affection was comforting, it made Will feel grounded and protected.
It had been 6 months since they had seen each other, longer than they had gone in quite some time. The lack of contact had been a consequence of a mission Will had been sent on that got out of hand. But he was finally returning home, albeit slightly bloodied and bruised. When he was making his way down the halls of Castle Araluen after his meeting with King Duncan he heard heavy footsteps rushing towards him. He just had a moment to turn around before he was wrapped up into Horace’s arms and lifted off the ground.
“Will!” Horace shouted excitedly.
“Horace, not so tight.” Will gasped out.
Horace released his grip and moved his arm so it hung around Will’s shoulders. “Sorry bud.”
Will laughed, then winced, “It’s all good, my ribs are just a little fractured.”
The smile dropped from Horace’s face and his hand hovered just above Will’s ribs. “What are you doing walking around? You should be in bed resting!”
“Horace, relax, I’m fine. They’re wrapped and healing. You know as well as I do that I can’t just sit around for the weeks it’ll take them to fully heal.”
“Still, you’ve had a long journey. You should probably lie down.”
“I was planning on it. I was just looking for you.”
Horace grinned, “Well now that you’ve found me, let’s go find Cassie and some coffee and you can rest in the library while you catch us up on the mission.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
#rangers apprentice#ranger's apprentice#will treaty#horace altman#ranger’s apprentice fanfiction#rangers apprentice fanfiction#fanfiction friday#the language of love
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2024.03.25 | Sometimes we don't hear the words we want to hear and feel disappointed. Most of the time we don't notice the small actions that already shows what we want to hear. Everyone has a different love language. If you don't hear love in someone's words; look at their actions instead.
#love language#actions speak louder than words#mindfulness#relationships#be observant#the language of love#notice the small things#the small things matter#moments of love
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It’s dangerous to go alone... take this:
#oscar isaac#the language of love#wired interview#oscar#pedro pascal#wired auto complete interview#language of love#love
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Wallace Polsom, To Her Coy Mistress (2022), paper collage, 25.7 x 29.8 cm.
#wallace polsom#to her coy mistress#paper collage#collage#collage art#art#artists on tumblr#analog collage#contemporary art#handmade collage#handcut collage#21st century#wallacepolsom2022#surreal#surrealism#art history#eroticism#the language of love
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Happy New Year! I hope you all have a good one! ☆
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This is why I love French
#coq et couilles#french#really is#the language of love#i mean look at this#you are beauty incarnate#tattoo ideas#love#quotes
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“I hope that you get to
grow old with the person
who speaks your language -
not just the one on your lips,
but the one in your heart.”
- The Love Language, by Mia
#midnightwildspoems#poetry#writers and poets#poemsociety#original poem#love poem#women writers#writersociety#the language of love#love language
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“I love you” in a thousand languages.
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.
#Σ´αγαπω#soulinkpoetry#poetry#she writes#tumblr poets#thoughts#feelings#do you speak my language?#the language of love#i love yous
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so profound!
🌳🧐🌳
#foodforthesoul#foodforthought#ilovethis♥️🌳♥️#inspiration#the language of self love🌳❤️🌳#sage advice#the language of love
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Ever since I read The Language of Love, I think of Defender when I come across anything Italian. I heard a piece of an opera and as soon as I heard the guy sing, I thought of Defender. All through the song I kept imagining scenarios where he sings (Maybe it’s because I was a choir girl, but the idea makes my cheeks all rosy). Now whenever I go to reread it, I think of Opera. From Defender, to Italian, to Opera, back to him… the circle is complete 💞
Ohmygosh ~ this makes me soooooo happy❣️
And if we wish for it hard enough, do you think I could find a way to fic it? Or perhaps some Artist out there might take up the idea. Can't you just hear his rich baritone singing something from The Marriage of Figaro or The Magic Flute? Deliziosa!
For now, though, we'll have to be satisfied with
*sighs longingly*
...while we imagine his commanding stage presence. And perhaps his voice going low as he murmurs sweet Italian nothings in our ear.
#ay mi!#we are on the same wavelength friend#thank you honey#cerene-ciderr#Defender Strange#a virtuoso in whatever he chooses to do#My Beloved Defender#The Language of Love
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The language of love
Part one: Words of Affirmation
Alyss Mainwaring loved her fiancé. She was incredibly proud of the man her best friend had become. She had seen him walk through circumstances that would break most men with a smile and a joke. His courage and kindest would always amaze her.
So when she saw him sitting out on the veranda, head in his hands, cloak wrapped around him like a shield, she was instantly ready to fight whoever had hurt him.
“Will, what’s wrong?” She sat on the step next to him, bumping his should with hers.
“It’s nothing. I’m being stupid.” He mumbled through his hands.
“I doubt that. You’re lots of things, but stupid has never been one of those. Tell me what happened.”
Will looked up at her, and she could see that his eyes were slightly red. He had been crying. Alyss’ heart clenched.
“Ranger Cole kicked me off the Litchfield case.”
“What! Will you’ve been working that case for weeks! Why would he-“
“Because I am too young, inexperienced, and impulsive.” He quoted bitterly.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I mean, yes, you are younger than he is, but you are far from inexperienced, and you think every action through. Just because your mind is quicker than his doesn’t mean you haven’t run through the possible outcomes.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s his fief, he gets to call the shots. Crowley already signed off on his request.”
Alyss had to bite her tongue to stop from say what she truly wanted. How Crowley should have had Will’s back. How he shouldn’t allow other rangers to hold Will’s youth against him. Instead she said, “Will, you are the best ranger in the corps.”
He starts to deny it, but she continued, “No, you are. I love Halt, but there is a goodness within you that he lacks. Will, you will do great things. You already have. I know you have moments of self doubt. But I have known you all of your life and I have never once doubted you. I’ve never doubted your courage, your kindness, or your capability. So whenever you start to doubt yourself, you can come to me and I will lend you some of my confidence, because I have it for you in spades.”
#rangers apprentice#ranger's apprentice#ranger’s apprentice fanfiction#rangers apprentice fanfiction#the language of love
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