Flower meanings I wanted to get out there. It seemed pretty cool to me but was a lot of work as I couldn’t copy and past my research from websites. Use it for a florist AU or somethin’ I dunno have fun
Statice - Remembrance, sympathy, success Stock - Lasting beauty, happy life, bonds of affection, promptness Sunflower - Pure thoughts, adoration, dedication, dedicated love, haughtiness Sweet Pea - Delicate pleasure, bliss, departure after having a good time Tulip - Declaration of love, fame, perfect love
Rose - Love
Red Rose - Love, longing, desire, respect, admiration, devotion
Deep Red Rose - Regret, sorrow
White Rose - Purity, chastity, innocence, new beginnings, sympathy, humility, spirituality
Pink Rose - Gentleness, admiration, joy, gratitude, appreciation, elegance, grace
Orange Rose - Passion, energy, desire, pride, fervor, fascination
Lavender Rose - Enchantment, love at first sight, majesty, splendor, fascination, adoration
Blue Rose - Elusive, unattainable, mysterious, desire, I can’t have you but I can’t stop thinking about you
Green Rose - Harmony, opulence, fertility, best wishes for a prosperous new life or wishes for recovery of good health
Black Rose - Death, farewell, elusive
Mixed Roses - Mixed feelings, I don’t know my feelings yet but I care about you enough to send roses
Moss Rosebud - Confession of love
Thorn-less Rose - Love at first sight, early attachment
Leaf Rose - You may hope
Hibiscus Rose - Delicate beauty
Burgundy Rose - Unconscious beauty
Christmas Rose - Relieve my anxiety
Dog Rose - Pleasure and pain
Damask Rose - Freshness, Persian ambassador of Love
Garden Rose - I am from Mars
Tea Rose - I will remember always
Rose of Sharon - Consumed by love
Carmine Rose - Deceitful desire
Cardinal Red Rose - Sublime desire
Amaranth Red Rose - Long standing desire
Wild Rose - Simplicity
Musk Rose - Capricious beauty Rosa Mundi - Variety Single Red Rose - “I love you” A Single White Rose - “My feelings are pure” A Single Yellow Rose - “You bring joy to my life” “Let’s be friends” A Single Pink Rose - “I like you” A Single Orange Rose - “I am proud of you” A Single Peach Rose - “Thank you” “I sympathise with you” A Single Lavender Rose - “I am enchanted by you” A Single Blue Rose - “You seem like an unattainable dream” A Crown Of Roses - Reward of virtue A Bouquet Of Roses - Gratitude A Rose In A Tuft Of Grass - There is everything to be gained by good company One Red Rose - “I love you” “You are the one for me” Two Red Roses - “Let us be together” Three Red Roses - “You and me and our love for company” Five Red Roses - “I am halfway in love with you” Twelve Red Roses - “Be mine” Twenty Five Red Roses - “Congratulations” Fifty Red Roses - “My love for you is limitless”
A little present for my angst king, @bunny-yams!!! Please remember to comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
Sometimes, Alexander wondered if the universe was jealous of Thomas.
The way his dark eyes sparkled with new ideas, brighter than the North Star. The twinkling in his laughter to rival the glimmers of the cosmos. How each smile, each smirk, each devilish grin was so perfectly curved into constellations with those lips Alexander could kiss for centuries and still wish for more. How his hair would reflect each beam of light on a warm August morning, the curls refracting the glow into a halo, casting gold onto the nearly-black brown. In those particular moments, Thomas was the sun.
Each morning Alexander rose before the sunrise where Thomas awoke, palettes of pinks streaked the sky of Thomas’s small smile, that gorgeous smile that always seemed like it was meant for Alexander and only Alexander. They climbed out from the heavy cloak of sleep to greet the day day, and while Alex was typically groggy and tired, Thomas always seemed so perfectly set into the patterns of the morning, helping each sunbeam dance through the windows as he pulled open the blinds.
As the sunlit windows of morning shattered into shards of afternoon, Thomas stayed resolute in his path of day, working through and persevering despite clouds of anxiety and doubt in the sky of his mind. He would laugh out boldly, burning one if they stayed too long, or sit quietly and focus, content to be overshadowed and rained upon with new words from the promise of a better day soon to come.
Evenings were typically soft, gentle kisses on cheek, a hand and the wind tangling Alexander’s hair affectionately, Thomas laughing in that way where he forgets to contain himself and for once just allows the melody to play through. Each note of his laughter a new symphony, a revised chorus, a reprise of a nearly-forgotten song. Alexander wished more than anything to hear such wonder again, if only just once.
Nightfall was subtle, over before it began. The stars in his eyes connected complicated constellations, the names of which were so wondrous it is a mystery how they were lost to the gentle grip of time. Thomas painted dark blues and hints of violet across the sky with each kiss he pressed to Alexander’s face, silent promises of what the new dawn would bring as it burned the pieces it has strewn about during the night and emerged as a phoenix, rising from the ashes;
The universe must have been upset that such brilliance could shine from something other than their own sun and stars. So it had sent a supernova.
Bright lights, flashing in every direction. The sounds of metal crumbling to dust with each crackle of the crash. Fiberglass half-melted and nearly melted into the dark skin of the center of Alexander’s solar system. His halo was no longer gold, then, a sheet white airbag in its place, puffing out around him in effort to avoid the damage he would take from the impact.
And in a matter of time that seemed to pass far too slowly, Thomas had given up his title of the sun, in exchange for rule over the midnight sky.
He was laid out thin, too thin, on the hospital bed, his dark eyes closed and unable to light the stars he had always been so in control of. Curls of his hair tangled into heavy cloud weighing down over his face, and Alexander carefully reached over to brush them out of his eyes. He set the flowers down carefully on the bedside table that was always there.
Alex had chosen daisies this week. At first, he had wanted to throw every daisy ever grown into the bright fire of the supernova that had taken away his sunlight. But with time, he had grown to find a strange srt of comfort with the flowers. Each petal fluttered past his mind, unlocking memories he had tucked away neatly, in effort to slow the tidal wave of grief that had crashed over his mind, water spilling out the edges of his eyes.
Thomas had always made Alexander a flower crown when they went to the park together. Alex would protest that he was much too old to wear one, and Thomas would point out that someone so annoying must be a snobby, entitled prince that he had just so happened to fall in love with. And since Alex was a prince, he needed a crown. After a few kisses, Alexander usually relented and allowed Thomas to place the crown on his head.
But they couldn’t do that now. Not anymore. Thomas’s hands laid still by his sides, the bleached bedsheets stiff beneath him, and the teal robe covering his body so obviously not fitting for the ruler of the kingdom of dreams.
Gently, Alexander pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on Thomas’s head, smiling when he saw how it framed Thomas’s face. The little plastic daisies had been carefully braided together, into a beautiful, although fake, flower crown. Alex smiled and sighed quietly, reaching over and picking up his coat to pull back on. After all, it was a cold January afternoon, and after the first two years, everyone else had given up hope for Thomas.
Sparing a glance at the man in the bed, Alexander’s weak smile began to fade. Two years had passed by, two years of burning sunlight instead of the soft caresses of sunbeams that Thomas bended to his will.
Maybe he should give up. Alexander quickly shook the thought out of his head, closing his eyes tightly. No- Thomas just needed time for his mind to heal. But the idea stayed, lingering like a strong taste of candy that makes you wish you could brush your teeth to block it out. Thomas was gone. He wasn’t gone, as most people meant when they said such a thing. Thomas Jefferson was simply… Not there anymore. He had carved a small place into Alexander’s heart and left it there, somehow able to rest when Alex felt the pain of such an empty space each and every day he spent without Thomas.
Alexander bit his lip and tried to pull his gaze away from the sight of Thomas’s body, but found himself unable to. Because Thomas wasn’t going to wake up, no matter how long Alex waited. And somewhere, deep down, Alexander knew that. The thought had been there the whole time, creeping up on him as a mist until it began to rain heavily from his eyes.
And through his blurry vision, for a moment, just a fleeting second…
Alexander could have sworn that Thomas’s starlit eyes had blinked open.
I feel like people forget that pediatric illnesses generally last into adulthood like…childhood cancer survivors often have medical complications for the rest of their (adult) lives. My juvenile arthritis will be around when I’m 75. Crohn’s disease, cystic fibrosis, congenital heart defects - all of these things, when acquired in childhood, have lifelong complications. Childhood diseases aren’t just cute, happy kids smiling from hospital beds. Theyre pain and suffering and learning to live differently forever.
When a formerly-paralyzed patient decided to surprise her favorite nurse with the news of her rediscovered ability to walk, the nurse’s ecstatic reaction served as a reminder of how much hospital workers truly care for their patients.
Take a moment today to thank a nurse or caregiver in your life. [via]
Howdy friends! It’s wee bairn Marlo, coming to you live from a family holiday to Montreal. So many of you asked for a second part to my prompt surrounding doctor Claire and patient Jamie, which I have since dubbed A Medical Emergency (which you can readhere). And, considering how angsty the last few TSS fics have been (blame Kaitlyn and Mikayla), I figured it was time to deliver some fluff for your amusement!
As always, a major thank you to my Kilt Kult buddies and fellow TSS mods for keeping me on track and reassuring me that my writing isn’t trash. Also, I owe all of you a major shout out as well, as I would never have written this fic without your overwhelming positive response. So, thank you thank you thank you from the very bottom of my heart!
It was two weeks before Claire could stomach facing Jamie again. The surgery had been a success, and Claire had meticulously mended the shattered bones of Jamie’s hand. She hadn’t counted on the infection that set in, keeping him bedridden and feverish for nearly a week. Claire couldn’t help but feel responsible.
“It happens all the time LJ. I wouldn’t worry about it.” said Joe Abernathy, Claire’s fellow doctor and hospital confidante. She knew that there was nothing she could have done, that infections happen and it was out of her control, but the thought of seeing Jamie in more pain, with even the smallest chance of it being by her hand, was too much to bear. She didn’t know what is was about this Scot: his bull-headedness, the way his nose crinkled when he smiled at her as she was wheeling him into surgery, or how peaceful and innocent he looked under anesthesia, the softness of his face making him look like a child. Whatever it was, Claire found herself experiencing feelings she had never felt before, and it left her simultaneously terrified and exhilarated.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Claire had just finished a run of the mill appendectomy. Granted with a brief reprieve, she quickly cleaned herself off before heading to the on-call room, eager to take a quick rest before her pager summoned her again. Unfortunately, she found herself having to cross through the recovery wing, where Jamie lay behind the closed door of room 263. Claire had continued to follow his case, coercing nurses into providing valuable intel on his condition and moral.
“Yes, he is eating.”
“No. He doesn’t have a fever.”
“If you’re so interested Doctor, why don’t you go ask him yourself?”
Still, Claire refused to step foot in that room. The nagging guilt in her stomach surrounding his prolonged hospitalization, coupled with the more puzzling stirrings deep in the pit of her stomach, wouldn’t allow her to walk down the white tile hall leading up to his room. Unfortunately, she currently had no other option.