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“Not only did I love her, but I could tell the universe loved her, too. More than others. She was different. After all, I would be a fool not to notice the way the sunshine played with her hair.”

— Christopher Poindexter (via lovelustquotes)

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𝕃𝕖 ℙ𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕥 𝕁𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕝  𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏

𝓖𝓾𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓾𝓶𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓽 & 𝓔𝓵𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓮 𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮

𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚓𝚘𝚢.

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@elodiecelestine

Roman Holiday (1953) dir. William Wyler

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Chungking Express (1994) dir. Wong Kar-wai

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moodboard by sir benjamin wyatt

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@bharisinclair

my two moods

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geridurand‌:

As Guillaume spoke his few words, Geri soaked up each individual one. He bit his lip and hoped for a revelation from his friend, but of course he was only a man. “I didn’t mean to,” he chuckled in embarrassment. “Its just… old friend. Emotions. Bubbles erupting from my stomach, and the beer isn’t helping if not making my cheeks hot,” he sighed. “Why can’t we have one normal fucking conversation? Without someone or something dying or breaking? Why must life…” Geri shook his head, and his mind kept wandering back to the subject, and the smile he donned felt foreign and forced and uncomfortable. It hadn’t a moment ago. 

“Why do people hide it then? I feel so alone. Because it isn’t commonplace to express one’s feelings. I bottled it up and look at me I’m blubbering in public,” he exhaled. “Suppose you’re right, facing them head-on, talking openly, is good for the soul. “Why don’t I start from the beginning?” But that, too, was an exaggeration. He didn’t know where it was coming from but the floodgates were wide open. “You should close those ears, Guillaume. My lips should be sealed if this is what happens when I get comfortable.” But he really wasn’t comfortable, was he? After all, if he felt good he wouldn’t be practically crying in the pub. His throat felt dry so he took another sip, trying not to down the rest of the lager in his hand.

“Fuck!” In his mind’s eye, his father’s elderly face arose. “I thought when he died, of old age or what have you, I’d feel relieved, and I do to a degree as terrible as it sounds, but the pressure still holds true. That’s all. I’m afraid of everyone’s expectations but I’m too old to be worried with such trivial nonsense. Why can’t my life be my own? Why must the company be in my father’s shadow? People who saw me grow up comparing me to him, why does it never end, old friend?”

Guillaume let out a long exhale with a slow shaking of his head. “You are asking quite the philosophical questions tonight. And I am afraid I may not have answers for all of them.” His brows furrowed concerned at the other. Though he was often the broody type, this anguish did not suit Geri well at all.

Tilting his head, he moved over and reached to place his palm at the back of the emotional man’s neck. He had seen far too many men unwind in his time, but with time came practice. It was difficult, but he had rather seen men crumble than not emote at all. If a man could cry, not all was lost. “To weep is to be human, and I am not one to judge. We have all lived through hard times.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as Geri spoke of his father. His ghost reflecting himself. Guillaume had known for years of the man’s malcontent at continuing the family business quite unlike himself. Though he had once had dreams, they were a young boy’s, not of a teenager, an adult like Gerald. It did not do well for dreams to become nightmares. “I think, dear friend, it is not too late to rethink one’s place in life. If you are so haunted and broken, perhaps you need a change. How many people work with you at the moment? Could you hand over a few more responsibilities? Train up someone new? I don’t want to suggest selling the business, but...well...” He ended with a shrug, he did not want to overstep.

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i made a in-depthish greek godly parent quiz so reblog and tag with ur results

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rowanparis‌:

He couldn’t help but beam. The night kept getting better and better, and Rowan was somehow in love with the man before him, even though he knew not to put all his eggs in one basket, or trust the man wholeheartedly. 

“Well, what’s your name then? ‘Sir’ no more, thank God,” he asked the other in relief and made his way to the closet down the hall. Surely he could borrow someone’s outerwear for a few hours, if not the whole night? “I believe it that you won’t let me say no, but I wouldn’t dream of turning down a night of fun with an albeit strange man.” He winked and found something that would fit, then turned to the other. “What is the occasion out there, anyway?” 

Taking the man’s hand firmly, he shook it enthusiastically. “My name is Guillaume Rousset. Of Chausseurs Rousset if you are familiar!” He gave the other a firm pat on his arm as he grinned. "Stranger things have happened, surely.” He left the man with an amused titter as he rested his shoulder against the doorframe to await his return.

“Onwards, mon ami!” Draping his arm over the other’s shoulder he gestured back to the main hall. “Oh, it’s the gentleman of the house’s birthday celebration for their daughter. You will have seen her walking around, the pretty blonde. And god, how rude of me - what am I to call you?”

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how do you do?

jeremy january • jeremy brett as freddy eynsford-hill in my fair lady (1964)

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Guillaume, during the war: Bhari, I need a little support over here!

Bhari: You have acceptable hair and nice abs, but it's what's inside that really counts.

Guillaume: ...thanks, Bhari!

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Embarrass Me

I will write a drabble about my character saying or doing something embarrassing to himself or to your character.

Paris, 1903

“So...how do I look?” The young man pressed his lips together, hands on his lapel as he stood up a little stiffly for the first time in his new suit.

A sweet beam came from the woman stood before him as she approached to straighten out his tie at the knot, patting his shoulders down.

“You look very handsome, my dear. But loosen up, Guy - she’ll say no, never mind her father if you are going to stand there like a mannequin when you ask.”

Expelling a breath of air from his lips, he nodded. “It’s not Emmi I’m nervous about, her father - he’s quite a terrifying man. He kneads dough every morning, Vivi, what if it’s practice for wringing my neck for asking such a preposterous question?”

“Come on now, who wouldn’t love you for a son-in-law?”

Before Guillaume could say otherwise, the clerk approached them both. “Sir, if you and your mother are both happy with the suit, we can complete your purchase at the cash desk.”

To which Guillaume turned with a stifled laugh to a slightly bewildered Vivienne who shook her head.

“Mother?? Why I-”

“Oh yes my mother and I will be right over.” He gave her a cheeky look as the not-that-much-older woman rolled her eyes and gave him a light, berating slap at his forearm.

“I still cannot believe he said ‘yes’!” Guillaume was practically bursting at the seams with excitement, hands on each side of poor Vivienne shaking her enough to probably blur her vision.

“There was absolutely no doubt in my mind. Now, I know you have one more ‘yes’ to get but I am already planning the seating plan and floral arrangements.” She gave the towering man another quick hug as they approached the cafe he arranged to meet Emilliene at.

With a bouquet of lilies in hand he turned to her again and pursed his lips. “How do I look?”

“You look perfect, little baby Guillaume so tall, handsome and cute now.” She put on a teasing voice and cooed at him as she reached up to squish his cheeks together at the chagrin of the nervous young man before her.

“Vivi, please.”

“You look handsome, now go so I can not watch from afar approach after an appropriate amount of time to congratulate you both.”

“Alright...alright...” He steadied himself, nodding towards her. “I’m going.”

“Good. And big smile, son.” She said brightly, waggling her fingers at him as he walked.

With a bemused smile, Guillaume was still a little nervous, but approached the cafe with a little more confidence knowing he had a little bit of moral support behind him just as he spotted the blonde hair of the girl he had so hoped would reply his question with a ‘yes’.

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That guy with tears in his eyes and ghosts in his heart. He loved her, and you could see it.

Jamie Tworkowski, If You Feel Too Much (via weltenwellen)