#doux.... my beloved

[thefoelestfoe]

the boy from ermmmmmmmmmmmm One! One! One! One! One! O

i really liked the demo go play it

[riaki]

nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[ophelian-darling]

OMG YOU WRITE FOR MONSTER NOW!? The first post i read from you was about what type of darling giorno likes and oh my lord was it amazing. The way you wrote it and the sophistication of that post matched giorno so well and the dialogue "Please stay my innocent amore forever" was just 💕❤️ (i will absolutely steal that lmao)

anyways can i ask for general headcannons for yandere johan liebert? Anything you want to write about him is perfectly fine!

Link of Giorno's post

TW: Obsession, emotional abuse, Murder threat.

enjoy ♡

The paradox of an existence is what paints Johan in a perfect light : the calm, comely curve of his lips masks all of the convulsing twistification under his pale skin. Similarly to an ocean, His comportment appears lovely to the eye, even a bit of depth under his eyes unfolds a picturesque image of a midnight chasm and a visible wisdom. However, the beauty and curiosity of exploring more discolors into a monstrosity and terror with each dive; showing an endless abyss of Nietzschean horrors. The lovely smile of his becomes a twist of depravity and never been a man so sane yet so insane all at once.

Shadows danced within his head, casting a distorted light with every move they made. It would sound unbelievable; but he really filled his imagination with paintings of you: sometimes shapeless, at other times blurry, But there was one detail that remained. 

Your lips; the wonder of them. Johan never had the capacity to think of someone in a particular manner -Other than connecting directly to his demise- yet he thought of your features more than he should. Every little detail was mesmerizing in his eyes; the blood drops in your lips, the contour of them and how they form to your emotions so lively. Unlike him, you were able to taste glimmering joys and dim sorrows, savor life as it is, not drowning in some of an anarchic pit of despair and conflict; and that made him crave some of the warmth you had.

Johan is completely calm around you, His posture plays perfectly and complies to his acting, acting that role of a good man around others and a good friend of yours (although these words of friendship or romance meant nothing to him, 'friend' wasn't correct, more like a sculptor and his muse) and coffining the monster away from others- you specifically. He doesn't want his Obsession and maladive affinity to surface and scare you away- at least not yet, not in a time when you could run away from him easily. 

Dreaming of being embraced and melted into you, or even having each other belong together and as one -like a Shadow and an Anima-  dwelled in him so many nights. Maybe he can regain his sentiment again? experience normality or maybe… take your own name? It didn't matter how, what was important that you were his salvation from the cruelty of everything. 

He has a way with words: not like a formal sparker or a reckless lover, but of a poet. Johan flows his speech as sweetly as honey and as softly as a rose petal, tugging at anyone's heartstrings with a warm feeling. When in flirtation, his words come out Cloudy; a thin string between Coquetry and Courtesy. However, When you receive that small billet-doux on your door, your heart is immediately pierced. 

You've never seen someone in a romantic light (minus some short-lived fixations) and you were almost sure that no one was willing to make a move on you -at least that's what you concluded from all of your acquaintances friendly behavior- and here you were, re-reading the small note over and over again, absorbing the beautifully written words and inhaling its fragrant Aroma of flowers. you held the paper like a bundle of nerves, very gingerly and benignly. There was a tickling skip of your heartbeat; a sudden flow of feelings rushing out as the echo of the words calmed, never been so fluttered before.

"Beloved, Of Thy Smile I adore,

  As Pure as a Seraph, As Beautiful as a long Dream

   Of what darling Bud you've flourished?  Of what Angel you've been carved? 

A Memory filled with hues of a divine Beauty, a heart with a wound so sore

 Draws Thee in the pale moon, Kisses Thee under the warm Gleam

Thorns Hurt yet don't pain,

Take them As the sweetest antidote 

All Oblations for Thou never in Vain

For All joy and love on you I dote."

-Your Wounded Cupid, Johan.

You Are blessed. Never in a blue moon you've thought about your Capacity to lure someone else, let alone Johan Liebert himself. You'd burn the last candles of thought and wonder, only to end up with no answer: Why me of all the loveliest, savviest or highest people that he chose me? The questions would die down soon to be replaced with another blissful feeling, feeling that was alive and meant to die…

'Emotions' are just a set of false faces. He can wear and crawl under any role of a normal human effortlessly. Johan loves your smile as much as he counts your tears; creating a path to your heart by offering you the mimicry of warm affection and a color of what Love appears as. You smile back- and that's a hope for a monster like him.

What is the meaning of a family? or a loved one? He asks you silently. He can't overlook that look of joy on your face whenever you spoke to a close person of yours, and it tugs something at his soul. Was Heaven the other people? He wants to ask as well; and wanting to hold your hand and go into the unknown, solaced that you'll be with him. The more he fixes his sight on your life, the more he comes to the realization that he can be your salvation as much as you're his. there is no need for others when you have him.

The peaceful world inside your mind crumbles apart, or better to say: reforms. Johan wouldn't say that everyone around you was evil out loud, he has just to expose the wickedness of others around you, how much they used you to their benefit, or twist their words and create the worst scenarios in your head… He didn't corrupt you for his enjoyment, he was just keeping the Lily of a human in Heaven. 

The Sweet fall of an Angel. He's now delighted, even more delighted. The sheer happiness you used to show faded into the clouds of despair; a crack through the rose-colored glasses broke its way through and through. Gorgeously Weak and beauteously Shattered, you're now left easy to be munched, chomped, gobbled and gulped; as to become one with him.

What affection meant to him: the absolute control and submission between two; dominion of the flesh and spirit in order to achieve the perfect union, and so he did. He's always been obsecure as Chaos, If never in a cruel way.

He was everything alluring and gruesome; a chiaroscuro painting of an Angel and a Devil, cruel to be kind, and kind to be cruel. Everytime you thought you catched a thread to pull in his persona, more tangles would unwrap. In other words, he wasn't one to be understood. 

Johan Contradicts his honeyed words in cruel actions: He can simply Call you the prettiest thing as he aims a bullet at you, taking delight at the sight of your cascading tears or the sound  of your incisioning sobs, at other times, He plants warm kisses on your hands and face, lacing his lips with venomous letters and twisting sayings, wanting to see the broken look on your face yet again, or maybe a pearl of a tear from your eye. He doesn't -would never- hate you, it's just that you were pretty when you cried. 

You've lost all of your weapons and winning Cards from the beginning. There wasn't luck or skill enough to defeat him, and you ought to be the most knowledgeable of the reality through his eyes: there was no one in the world except of you two, no heaven or hell except when you're together, and no force that shall banish you from him.

"Suffer with me"

"I know not of a meaning except of your love" 

"We belong together" 

"Ich bin du, und du bist ich"

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and a Time to Fight

Part Twenty - Four

Summary: A slice of life for Enjolras and his girl aboard the ship. The past visits.

Notes/Warnings: This is for 18 & up readers, thank you! Mentions of Belote (a game played at their time. Kind of made up how to play it in one scene!) drinking (be responsible!) consensual male/female pnv intimacy.

Thank you for reading! ❤️s & reblogs are always welcome. Feedback is also very…very welcome!

Waking, you caught as Enjolras splashed some water on his face. He looked the more relaxed then he had in a good long while. A little over a week on the ship and you both were getting used to particulars of being on board.

You let your eyes move over your beloved. There was no scarf tied around his throat. His jacket laid over the back of the chair. He was clad in his trousers and a few buttons were undone on his white shirt. The sight, brought a peace to you didn’t realize you needed. It also made your heart leap in your chest there was a handsomeness about him, you hoped would always grab you.

“Oh!” He turned and gave you a quick smile. “I had not meant to wake you.” He rubbed his face and came over. The bed dipped as he sat down.

You rubbed an eye. “I probably slept long enough.”

He took your hand in his, his thumb grazed your knuckles. “It had meant a lot to me when you showed me your hands.” He squeezed yours, his eyes were warm when they met yours.

“I had fretted over it.”

“I remember.”

Shifting, you sat up and placed a hand over his. Grateful it was still there. “The doctor did a good job taking of it.”

“He did.”

Your heart continued to flutter as he cupped your cheek.

“My brave wife. We’re half way to our new home. Everyday I rise, I am grateful that Lachesis entwined our threads.”

“I am as well.”

Your heart began to thud as he drew your face up. You inhaled.

“I have missed your…”

As his lips grazed yours the ability to form words vanished. Your breath shortened.

“I have as well.” His voice grew deeper. His lips curled into a smile as he pulled back and met your eyes.

“Then I will not deny either of us, mon amour.”

You sighed as he pulled you close. Despite laying and sleeping along side him all these days, this was different.

Gently, moving with you he eased you back into the bed. Reaching, you nestled your fingers into his soft curls. His breath was warm as he broke the kiss. You could practically feel as his eyes moved over you.

“My heart, my body yearns to feel you.”

He settled and rested beside you. His fingers gently fiddled with the laces of your chemise.

“Please, I miss the feel of you.”

“Oh, mon doux ange. That would please me.”

As his lips met yours once again; you felt his fingers brushed against your skin. A soft sound came from you as he slid your chemise to your hips. With trembling fingers you removed your undergarment soon followed.

The sight of him, unbuttoning his trousers caused you to tremble. He was so handsome and his strength made you feel so safe. Carefully, he moved so that he between your legs and that his weight was not fully on you.

“My beautiful wife.” He whispered against your lips while he finally freed himself.

“My love.” You replied. A gasp came from you as you felt him brush against the apex between your legs.

“You remind me of flower petals with a fresh dew.”

Your cheeks warmed with a flush.

“And just as lovely.”

As he entered you, a soft moan poured from the two of you. It mingled and became one like the rest of you.

“I had better seal your soft lips with mine. I do not want side glances or people to be aware of the pleasure you and I share.”

“Oh, my sweet love thank you.” Your voice squeezed as pleasure ripped through you.

Pleasure continued to build between the two of you. Breathes shortened, as moans threatened to spill from the two of you. Your kisses momentarily would break so you could find a breath before your lips found each other again. You clutched onto each other.

Your fingers nestled in his curls as you drew close to the peak you both moved towards.

*******

As he stood behind you lacing your dress; his eyes drifted from your smooth back to the scar that remained on his hand. His thoughts wandered to Claude, the older man who had patched him up; he had done good. Enjolras hoped he was safe. Claude was only a man of medicine. Chewing on his cheek, he cursed the royal army.

He gave your laces a good knot. It would keep all the layers of your dress together. A faint smile curled his lips, as he pressed a brief kiss to where there was a hint of your bare skin.

“Lovely. You are ready to face the sun on the deck or the passengers below or…” His eyes met yours in the very small reflective glass. “The rats as they scurry past your boots.”

As you turned to him a squeal of a mirth came from you. You tugged gently on his coat. “Julien! Don’t even mention those rats.” He caught your gloved hands before you could fidget further. He brought them up to give them each a kiss.

He smiled and just shook his head. “We saw only one.” He met your eyes. “There is a chance you might see more then one.”

“Julien! Don’t scare me.”

He chuckled and pulled you against him. “Oh, how I love making my wife all flustered.“ He chuckled again. “Just stomp them ange; and if you need me, I shall be in the parlor suite. I will be playing Belote with the men.”

“I certainly will.” You smiled.

*****

The sky was so clear you felt as if you could see till the end of the ocean. You were getting used to not needing your scarves around shoulders while on this boat. As you had walked the streets back home, you could not even imagine being without one.

On the deck you found a place, you enjoyed tucking yourself into. Sitting there; the sails fluttered and flapped while the ropes stretched to where they were needed.

You imagined your father sitting and keeping his journal or looking out with the salty air hitting his face. That salty air would cling to his beard so much that when he’d return, you could still smell it.

As you sat there, you could practically feel how his large arm had wrapped around you and told you of his latest adventure. His eyes filled with delight, his laughter filling sitting room.

A single tear fell down your cheek; so with a gloved hand you brushed it away. You’d were grateful for the memory but it hurt so much. Standing, you decided at that moment to go and see your husband.

*******

He eyed his cards, he took a long sip from his tankard. The ale warmed him. He was having several good hands. If only Grantaire could see the cards he was being dealt now.

******

The wind made the wooden slat behind him rattle against the window sill he sat near. Through the small openings he could just make out the rain streaking down the glass panes. He shifted in his seat.

“Enjolras, if you hold your cards any closer to you; one would think they turned into your angel.”

His lips curled as he slid his comrade a look. Who in turn only raised their eyes and tore of a bite from his loaf of bread; crumbs clinging his unkept mustache.

“I’ll hold.”

“Yes, see I told you his cards have come to remind him of his sweet girl. We better inform her of his wicked ways.”

“Come on. Be respectful for once Grantaire.”

Enjolras barked, slamming his hand on the table making the tankards and plates tremble and rattle.

“Let us enjoy a game without your nonsense.”

Everyone drew silent. They glanced his way then away. He chuckled then, a smile spread from ear to ear. He then revealed his winning hand.

******

“Julien, good gentleman how shall you be playing?” His old chum inquired bringing him away from the memory that visited and wished to linger in his mind’s eye.

He murmured something and grabbed a few cards, the memory faded like fog on a day that grows warm.

He glanced at the men around him. None of them paid him any attention as their eyes remained on their respective cards. He took another long sip from his tankard. He would need more soon.

His mind flickered to seeing Grantaire hopefully slumped in a corner sodden with drink as the soldiers slammed into the doors. He had taken your hand and ran to the other side the led to the narrow alley. Before going through that last door, he had glanced back. The main had remained still in that lone corner. In his heart, he clung to the hope they saw his comrade, his too loud and brash friend as a drunk and nothing more. He brought his tankard to his lips and took a long sip. He welcomed the warmth it continued to envelop him in. The warmth pushed away the chill of the past and the worry of the present gave.

@aftertheglitterfades @corrodedcoffn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @moondev1l @samunson83 @julieteagk @little-wormwood @wafflepixie @shadyhamiltonfanatic @gretavankleep37 @peacefroggg23

[honeybun-w]

☆*: .｡.a poem for the beloved boy .｡.:*☆

*french*:Tu es une étoile… si brillante et inaccessible… le sentiment que tu n'es pas à moi me fait autant mal qu'une épine de rose coincée dans ma peau

hyugo ton amour est aussi doux que le sucre Ton contact est doux et chaud comme un muffin fraîchement sorti du four. J'aspire à ces deux choses autant qu'un enfant aspire à l'amour de sa mère. Ne gaspille pas ta chaleur avec des gens qui n'en valent pas la peine..lay all your love on me

english:You are a star... so bright and unattainable... the feeling that you are not mine hurts as much as a rose thorn stuck in my skin

hyugo your love is as sweet as sugar Your touch is soft and warm like a freshly baked muffin. I long for these two things as much as a child longs for his mother's love. Don't waste your warmth on people who aren't worth it..

lay all your love on me

for you..att..lully

[sunnyyyyyyyynnus]

"Will You Marry Me?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pairing: Douxie x Fem!Reader

Warning: none i can i think of

Summary: Doux proposes in the middle of a battle cus it's "romantic" and also cus there's a chance one of you could die

A/n: ( this is based of off Elizabeth and Will's wedding in Pirates of the Caribbean) I know that during the battle, both Douxie and Merlin were off fighting Morgana but for the sake of this oneshot, just pretend that they fought the Gumm-Gumm army for a bit, about 20 minutes or so, alright?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are four Gumm-Gumm trolls surrounding me and I'm having trouble fighting them off. I've taken down two but another one has already taken their place. Suddenly Douxie appears next to me and helps me take all of them down. As soon as the last toll has been turned to stone, I turn to go and help the others but Douxie grabs my arm and pulls me towards him. He stares at me for a second, gasping for breath before he asks, raising his voice so that I can hear him, "Y/n, will you marry me?"

I stand still for moment, my mouth hanging open. My body is numb and I feel as though my brain has stopped functioning. Hisirdoux Casperan, the guy I've been in love with for over nine-hundred years, just asked me to marry him. In the middle of a battle. How romantic.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see a troll running in my direction, sword raised. Douxie lets go of my arm as I spin around to shoot the oncoming troll with my magic, screaming over my shoulder, shock still evident in my voice "I DON'T THINK NOW'S THE BEST TIME!"

"NOW MAY BE THE ONLY TIME!" Douxie responds, turning another troll to stone with his sky blue magic. We both take down another troll before Douxie grabs my arm again, this time pulling me so close to him that our noses almost touch "I love you" he says, staring into my eyes and I feel a blush creep up the bridge of my nose as I gaze back into his beautiful eyes.

He lets go of me yet again to shoot down a troll that just came out of nowhere before grabbing my shoulders and turning me around so that my back is to the trees "I've made my choice, what's yours?"

I stare at him, lost in thought: I love him, I really do, but...there are so many things that could happen, things that could hurt both of us, things that could go terribly wrong. But you love him, and he loves you, isn't that enough?  a small voice whispers in my mind, and with that, I've made my choice.

"MERLIN!"

Ignoring the very confused expression on Douxie's face, I spin on my heel to face Merlin who's fighting five trolls at once "MARRY US!" I scream in his direction.

Blasting all five trolls away from him, Merlin turns to me and yells "I'M A LITTLE BUSY AT THE MOMENT!"

He then turns to blast a spell at a troll that came from behind him as Douxie and I fight off more Gumm-Gumms "MERLIN! NOW!" Douxie screeches at the wizard.

"FINE THEN!" he turns two more trolls to stone before clambering onto a large boulder and stands there, shooting at a few more trolls. Douxie shoots at one more troll before grabbing my waist and pressing my  back against his chest. He smiles down at me as my face turns pink.

"DEARLY BELOVED! WE ARE GATHERED HERE TODAY..." A troll lunges at the older wizard who dodges just in time "...TO SEND YOU CREATURES OF HELL BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM!" yells Merlin as he shoots a spell at the Gumm-Gumm.

Doux and I share an eyeroll as he lets go of me so that we can attack the trolls that are surrounding us "Y/f/n, do you take me to be your husband?" "I do!" I reply. Douxie beams at me "Great!" 

Several more trolls swing their swords at us like a bunch of untrained five year old children, but we dodge them easily and shoot our spells "Hisirdoux Casperan! Do you take me..." I dodge a sword and kick a shin "...To be your wife..." Douxie takes my hand and spins me around so that I can get a clearer shot at an oncoming troll "...In sickness and in health..." Douxie spins me back to him and hits a troll with the pointier part of his staff "...With health being the less likely?"

Hitting a couple more trolls so that there aren't anymore around us, Douxie answers "I do!"

"AS MASTER WIZARD I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU..." All three of us shoot the same spell at more trolls running towards us "YOU MAY KISS!" I pick up a fallen sword and stab a troll with it. Douxie traps another troll while Merin shoots three different spells, one after the other "YOU MAY KISS!" Douxie and I are standing back to back, fending off the Gumm-Gumms while Merlin turns to help Arthur "JUST KISS!" He yells over his shoulder before rushing off to help the others, a smile forming on his face. Douxie creates a small shield around us and turns to me, but before he can do anything, I grab his arm and pull him to me this time, placing my lips on his. He kisses me back deeply. Somewhere near us, I hear Steve shouting "HEY LANCE LOOK LOOK! AWWWWWWW" and I hear some clapping but at the same time, I barely register it. All the sounds around us are fading away and it's just me and Douxie, now and hopefully forever.

Douxie pulls back, but not too far, and presses his forehead against mine. "I love you" he smiles and I reply with a smile in return and a kiss on his cheek. "Y'know, as much as I'd love to stay here with you" I say "we've got a battle to win" I gesture to everything that's going on beyond his shield. Nodding in agreement, he lifts the spell, but not before kissing me one more time.

We run off into the battle, and I'll admit, despite the happiness, I'm scared. But I know that we'll get through this. Together.

[coffee-without-anesthetics]

as a follow up to this post, which is just me complaining because the language hamsters in my brain were unsatisfied, here be the official lyrics of "la vaguelette" (the wavelet) translated from french to english if i were the most direct possible

(OL - original line, OET - official english translation, MT - my translation)

OL: Ah, si je pouvais vivre dans l'eau, le monde serait-il plus beau ? Nous pardonneras-tu, ô chère mère ? OET: O, if I become one with the springs Can the world's wonder be restored? And will you forgive us our sins, dear mother? MT: Oh, if I could live in the water, would the world be more beautiful? Would you forgive us, oh dear mother?

OL: L'eau dans son courant fait danser nos vies. Et la cité, elle nourrit. Ainsi que toi, mon doux amour. OET: The water's flow puts the dance in our step It nurtures our city And thee, my beloved MT: The water, through (with) its current, makes our lives dance. And the city, it nourishes. As well as you, my dear love.

OL: Non, le grand amour ne suffit pas. Seul un adieu fleurira. C'est notre histoire de vie, douce et amère. OET: If only true love were enough But alas, I must bid thee adieu Our love but a bittersweet fairytale MT: No, true love isn't enough. Only a farewell will flourish. It's the story of our lives, both sweet and bitter.

OL: Moi, je suis et serai toujours là, à voir le monde et sa beauté. Et ça ne changera jamais, jamais… OET: Yet I am here, and here I shall remain To behold the world in all its beauty Until the end of time MT: Me, I am and always will be here, to see the world and its beauty. And that will never, never change…

[omoricandyrestart]

Prologue: Collateral Damage

“I have to tell you something”

That’s how it all started. That’s what lead Sunny Suzuki to be where he is now. Lonely and friendless.

6 years ago, that boy had basically everything. He had an elder sister that loved him, two parents, and a group of irreplaceable friends. That’s when is life used to have meaning.

But then, he made a big mistake, and now… his sister is gone. His father left him, his mother lost his guard and, after learning the truth, all of his friends left him. How could he judge them, though? He was a monster.

Monsters didn’t deserve to have friends. They deserved to be alone and miserable, drowning in their own regrets.

And that was the state he found himself at. Alone and miserable, on a bus whose destination was unknown to him.

Why was he in said bus? The authorities, after finding out his unhealthy state, and the lack of proper homeschooling, decided that his mother was unfit to be his guardian.

Now, he was going to leave with his godmother… a woman that he barely knew. And worse, she lived on a town that, although was close, he never heard of.

Any other teen’s head would be filled with questions and expectations for this new life. How would this new school be like? Will my new house be big? Will I meet knew and cool people there?

But Sunny didn’t have any strength to do that. All he had enough energy to do was using the bus’s fogged up window to write ‘sorry’ on it. 

He inclined on said window and felt fast asleep, hoping that the travel would pass more quickly.

______________________________________________________________

When he opened his eyes, though, he noticed he made a big mistake. He was on a black void, filled with destroyed objects, and remains of his coping fantasy.

Sunny knew exactly what that meant, and flinched in worry.

“No! It can’t be! NO!” the boy screamed, desperate to run away. However, it didn’t matter how much he tried, because he was trapped by spider webs.

When he looked forward, he saw that something was there.

“No! Please! Not Anymore!” he begged and shouted.

“I love you” something said, slowly approaching.

“NO!” Sunny repeated.

“I love you” something repeated, starting to move faster.

“NONONONONONONONO!” the boy exclaimed in fear.

“ILOVEYOUILOVEYOUILOVEYOU” something yelled, dashing forward.

“NO!” Sunny exclaimed, waking up in horror. When he looked around, he noticed that he was still in the bus, and sighed in relief, knowing that he managed to run away from blackspace, for now, at least.

“Attention, passengers, we have arrived in Little Doux. Be prepared to grab your bags” the passengers were warned.

Finally, he had arrived. Considering how little he was bringing with himself, he packed it all on one backpack that was already with him.

Considering that the bus was basically empty, since not many people wanted to go from Faraway to Little Doux in the middle of the night, it didn’t take much for him to leave it.

When he left, there was still more to do. He needed to search for his godmother… and he didn’t even know how she looked like.

“Sunny, HELLO!” an energetic voice exclaimed.

When the boy turned around, he flinched, because it seemed like he was on another nightmare, because a woman with a bright pink hair and an unnatural smile was running into his direction.

He wanted to run away, but this woman was way faster than him, and she managed to give him the tightest hug he ever received.

“Oh, my beloved godson, look how much you have grown! You were just a baby back when I had seen you!” the godmother said, glad to see him.

After a while, she noticed that the boy would probably die if he didn’t breath soon, so, she let him go.

“I know I am probably a bit late. I just finished dying my hair pink. It looks lovely, doesn’t it?” the godmother asked, still as bubbly as before.

All he could think, though, was on the girl with pink hair that now hated him with all her heart.

“If you say so” the boy with black hair stated on an emotionless tone. It seemed like his godmother wasn’t affected by that, though.

“Anyway, now that I am here, I am going to help you with all your bags!” she exclaimed, ready to help him.

“It’s all with me already” Sunny spoke. An awkward silence sprouted between them.

“Well… in that case, let’s get going! I am crazy to show you the house!” the godmother exclaimed, dragging the boy out of the terminal.

______________________________________________________________

It seemed like his godmother was like a hurricane. Intense and with immense strength.

The way to his new house was really uncomfortable. His godmother bombed him with questions about things he liked, his friends, possible girlfriends, the scar on his cheek (the knife ended up on his chick, not eye. The boy already went through a lot, give him a break, please)… but, all he did was giving quick answers or nodding.

“Oh, look over there, my beloved godson, we have arrived!” the woman exclaimed, pointing to the house that was right in front of the car.

Sunny was left gaping at the size of the house. It was WAY bigger than any house he had seen in Faraway. It seemed like his aunt was pretty rich.

“I know it’s nothing special, but, I hope you feel welcome” the woman said, downplaying her own home.

They left the car, and the woman guided him to the inside. Sunny was even more surprised after seeing that, from the inside, the house seemed even bigger!

Then, she brought him to his room, which was on the second floor, leaving Sunny glad that he managed to overcome his fear from heights not so long ago.

“I tried my best to make you feel welcome. If you have any complains, don’t hesitate in talking to me about it!” Farah said, opening the door to Sunny’s room and turning on the light.

The room was, just like the rest of the house, amazing! The bed was enormous, the wardrobe was spacious, the desk had the newest computer on it, and there was a brand new cellphone on his bedside table.

He immediately ran into the device’s direction.

“I heard that you don’t have a cellphone, so, I bought you one! You know, in case you need to talk to me in an emergency, or text your friends!” the pink haired-woman explained, beaming with joy.

Sunny grabbed the cellphone and hugged it immediately, overjoyed at the new gadget under his possession. 

Then, he noticed that a brand new shirt, paints and beret was laying on his bed.

“What is this?” the boy asked softly, passing his hand through the shirt.

“Oh, it’s for tomorrow! You need to arrive on your first day of school with style!” Farah stated.

Sunny immediately frowned in worry, something that his godmother noticed.

“I know that new starts leave everyone nervous, but, you have nothing to fear! Sweet Amoris is a lovely school filled with lovely people!” the godmother declared with a smile.

“Besides, you won’t be alone, because my niece will be having her first day at school with you! And I already asked her to be nice to you!” the pink woman revealed, filled with excitement.

Sunny, though, only got more anxious by this news.

“She is such a lovely girl, you know. I am sure you both will hit it off very quickly… you both might even fall in love!” Farah suggested, basically imagining a romantic future for this two people who didn’t even know each other yet.

“I am sorry, godmother, but, I am not looking for a romance…” Sunny answered coldly, while trying to hide his blush.

It seemed like his godmother was unfazed by the statement.

“Oh, my dear Sunny, love is not something you ‘look for’… it’s something that blooms when you are least expecting” Farah spoke, winking at her nephew.

The boy remained silent, though, since he knew that nothing would convince the woman otherwise.

“Well… now, if you don’t mind, I need to finish the dinner tonight. Not wanting to brag, but, I am an amazing cook! Hope you like pasta!” Farah said, leaving the room while giggling.

When she left, Sunny immediately set on the desk’s chair, and grabbed a sheet of paper that was on his backpack. Then, he opened the cell’s box and turned it on.

“Come on… come on… I need you” the boy said to the phone, desperate to use it.

It was not as easy, though, because there were some steps that he had to go through before being able of actually using the gadget.

As soon as he finished this phases, his cellphone was finally ready to be used.

The first thing he do was on the number dialer, and started to type one of the numbers on the sheet.

When he was about to call it, though, he froze.

‘For your own good, it’s best if you forget that we exist!’

It didn’t matter how much he wanted to talk with his old friends. How much he wanted to beg for forgiveness, ask for support with this change, or just simply hear their voices.

It didn’t matter because THEY didn’t want to talk to him. He was alone, and no amount of denial or despair could change that.

With no other options, he put his newly gained phone on the desk, and started to cry.

All he could do from now on was to focus on his future… a future that he couldn’t enjoy, because he felt like it would never be as great as his past…

...or would it be?

[neesieiumz]

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[cypripedium-acaule]

A lovely project I have finished working on that I would like to share.

I have spent some time gently harvesting some flowers for use in flower crowns. It is my first time doing so, but I have managed to craft very gorgeous crowns for my beloved family.

Each crown has been wired together using Ambrosia psilostachya, a ragweed that symbolizes my undying love for each member of my family.

My mother received a crown of Lobularia maritima and Gomphrena globosa. It symbolizes the unwavering, immortal love for her children and her world.

My daughter Sierra has been bestowed with a crown of Potentilla reptans and Crocus sativus, symbolizing the youthful joy of my beloved daughter.

My beloved son, my Little Yarrow, has been given a crown of Rosa rubiginosa and Primula vulgaris, which symbolizes my eternal love for his passionate energy.

Finally, my wife, Coulette. Mon amour le plus doux, la lumière de ma vie. Your crown has been adorned with Nemophila menziesii and Magnolia sieboldii. Siebold's magnolia represents the heart-wrenching perseverance you demonstrated over a century and a quarter ago to remain with me. The baby blue eyes represent that you are my one and only.

...happy 125th, my beloved.

(cc: @sleepy-hisui, @shiny-achillea)

[respect-the-stache]

Wilford, mon doux ange rose:

Please come to my office if/when you're available. I have a handful of waivers for the parade float that I need your signature on(nothing much you need to remember, I'm writing everything down for review). After this last round of papers, we'll be set for June, but I can't move anything forward without our Master of Ceremonies.

Also, I want to kiss your face all over.

I await your response. 🖤🖤🖤

-D

A handful? Sounds like a hand cramp waiting to happen, but I suppose your kisses and pretty face would be worth it. 💖💕💖

I'll be there in a jiffy, my beloved Rabe!

~ᗯIᒪ

[libidomechanica]

And þenned, and þou schrank Ormisdaind togethere

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happe the with þe quickle, and grave     lorde way; and as non, unlearned came. Will, yet; or lykez     þou showers, Child, may me smoother raises þat þe graffiti     sprang, bayþed in wod schal

vus balȝez, our souls wish by glemed     to lymme if I not look’d her not semly breat unpaid     resolved by their own: her contineness with gome fonge; and     bearinging, and mony

aþel, and Favouring structures of     þat no given, þe wyth Love burnt as here in below! The     Sprite dar I, safety of alle þe sweet, and Praise we’se no     kauelacies watz god, it

fore madmen’s blown’d by love through the     accordid into Air, the defende, and þewest in þe     by death a resign, or leaves, and þat semlych bounder of     Lucan pleased; most. This and

came. Faulting thrice dishes the should     maked wells me wynte of grene that could cloats they shave Sconceiver’d     on þe jolly, assign past loved. He spek out on ryȝt     and on her Hair ⸻ he

samendez vnderers plungen be same     on þe ladies with speak, and directed me that hands he     naked, she’s doȝten dejects Manted his like Nation, and     weight: lover, but the pure

made best lives, or as his her alone:     Alikewise, as first lights on had hym he land Ardors,     tho’ no paying and bilyue. Said the wine: to the Cymon’d     ben and April cloth what

methings? Invade her to assandra     wante, nor die rather’s prey, for he fire in it be     Wand, weeping welcome, fixed to be cacheue vche þe good side all     the rose is is departs

the Tears the penaunce share þer blyþely     þe kyng treet, at myȝt koynter the a lemed by þe     leue, he grown like hers dryȝe, and I envelop all rule at     have my face, and Lysimachus’

injust stile sill. Love’s eyes     and þou would hors much by found, his met what sweþled with     enrichene is frame; despassed towche bot þeringethere slepte;     for diner builts begins

the Sun dedez al in slight he     ȝeder, on hung fained; Despair. There I yow ȝet stifly,     and tende, and stress flickened. The Pinions, and Matadoresence     vp hit is to

loverlast þus helessing ayred,     fallet-doux. Her ship by that I range at his syde, made     hyȝt þer write, ȝe desist vnspurely the Flavia’s Cheek: none!     ’ Which first can nec to haungeon

worker hath me fort ryched     Sylph, the to kauelacier wonder watz Gawayn, and vegetably     remember’d, debate, of thin the first a borde his     vnlace of þe metez þering

has, stant my myȝt. As labout     þe stark unphasel the dede þere. Image verduroys, plied     so clere stood then did through a softer myn owen hals þay     Ful oft leisure þat face

thy praysed so þis are doublood     a wort your to Lock!—But open’d, aboutez ful ryped     withouse youth to church this taught to writes quake a ful mony     backwards, I schal below.

[harleydesantis]

Welcome to my style blog!!!

Follow me on a journey where I travel around Second Life, trying different styles, and sharing them with you.

Let's start with the basics:

Body:

--- PUMEC - BOM - May Skin

Izzie's - Beauty Mole Dark L

Maitreya Mesh Body - Lara VS.3

Catwa Head - Catya

Cosmetics:

Izzie's -Bikini Tan Lines

Izzie's - Body Blemishes and Veins

Leven Ink Tattoo - BOM - Flowers Bright Pink

Accessories:

*RE*- Suicide Couples Bracelet

L'Etre - Gem Pierced Ears

That is the base...what I start with. Then I add in all of the fun stuff. =)

We will leave this post as basic as we can. With this picture:

Photo Look :

Body:

--- PUMEC - BOM - May Skin

Izzie's - Beauty Mole Dark L

Maitreya Mesh Body - Lara VS.3

Catwa Head - Catya

Cosmetics:

Izzie's -Bikini Tan Lines

Izzie's - Body Blemishes and Veins

Leven Ink Tattoo - BOM - Flowers Bright Pink

Veechi - Flat Mattes - Red

Veechi - Libra Shadow - Black

Accessories:

*RE*- Suicide Couples Bracelet

L'Etre - Gem Pierced Ears

Beloved Jewelry - Kitty Choker

*RE* - Quinn Rings Set

Hair:

Doux - Sins

Until next time...

[luthienne]

…there are other worlds—remote, lonely, silent, far—of strange delicious life. Let us go.

Kahlil Gibran, in a letter to Mary Haskell, from Beloved Prophet: The Love Letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell, and her private journal

[daydream-believin]

EVERYDAY IS VALENTINE’S WITH YOU BABY

SUMMARY: let’s go dancin’ with doux for valentine’s day

A/N: lipstick and skirts and being cute are gender neutral. fight me. also o///o

TAGLIST: @moppetwithamanbun @alovesongshewrote @blixeon @prismarts @transformers-insanity @fantasyiswaybetterthanreality @ukuleles-and-roses @rookiedookselfship @faraum

You smeared your lipstick on. Tonight’s a good night to make cute little kiss marks on your beloved’s face. You checked your teeth in the mirror. No stray lipstick on your pearly whites, good to go. You did a little pivot in the mirror, you felt pretty cute. And feeling pretty cute was essential for getting a little extra confidence. Tonight was gonna be a good night.

You heard footsteps come down the hallway. Doux must have just closed up shop. He leaned in the doorway of the restroom like a cat stretching. You watched him in the mirror, pretending not to notice his presence, or him checking you out.

“I need to finish up a few things right quick and then we’ll go, love.”

“Can’t wait,” you grinned.

And with that, douxie bid you adieu, off to go do those bookstore business things. Or wizard business things. You were never really sure with him.

After he left, you fought back a squeal. Damn you really couldn’t stop smiling. You couldn’t help it, you were just so happy! It’s the first time you’ve ever really had a Valentine’s date and it’s with Doux and life was just very sweet to you right now. You could smell the sugar in the air. So sweet.

You shook your head in an effort to snap yourself out of it, before leaving the restroom in favor of the living area. Douxie was putting something in an envelope, standing at the table. His pink tongue licked along the envelope to seal it and you wondered if he’d taste like glue.

You came up beside him, pulling his face over to yours. Douxie dropped the envelope, choosing to instead occupy his hands by placing them on your hips. He did taste like glue.

Pulling apart from you, Douxie rasped, “Have I told you I loved you today?”

You pretended to ponder the notion, “Hmmm, maybe,” you gave him another peck, “but it’s always better safe than sorry. Why don’t you tell me again?”

Douxie smiled, “I Love You~”

“I Love You, Babe~ Woah—!”

Doux dipped you into another kiss, quite literally sweeping you off your feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, for support and for fitting closer into his embrace. He ended it way to soon for your liking. You pouted as he helped you back onto your feet.

Douxie checked a watch he didn’t wear, “This is very fun my darling, but we need to go.” he tapped the imaginary watch, “We don’t need to accidentally spend another date night snogging in our living room.”

“Alright, let me grab my sweater. I understand we’ve become recluses.”

“People are asking where we’ve been, Y/n!” Douxie teased.

He didn’t notice but he was already wearing your color too. So he made no effort in wiping it off. You were matching.

•••

The dance club was packed, but that’s to be expected on a holiday like this. The place was like a buzzing beehive. You know, cause bees dance to communicate. Everyone was movin’ everyone was grovin’ baby.

Y’all saw some of Douxie’s friends and greeted them. Two punks like most of Douxie’s friends you’ve met, but one very pink lolita girl. They told you that they were here celebrating “galentine’s day.” Marvelous. You loved their vibes. The pink girl you’ve decided must be part fairy told you that your eyes were pretty, like glistening gemstones. The dreamy way she said it made you inclined to believe her.

Saying goodbye to the gals, y’all made your way over to the dance floor. Douxie took your hand. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before placing his other hand on you hip. You couldn’t make out the words the band was singing, only able to hear the music. Whatever it was, it was lovely.

You swayed together in a way that only be described as a really messy foxtrot. Neither of you could be called the best dancer, sometimes you even accidentally stepped on each other’s toes, but you loved to dance together. That’s what made it romantic, the sloppiness.

Douxie leant down to place a chaste kiss on your lips before spinning you. You skirt flared out as you spun. frankly, that was the best part of wearing a skirt, the fluttering. You giggled as Douxie pulled you back into him. His smile was radiant, and damn, you could almost see the hearts in his eyes.

You had never felt so treasured before. A blush heated your face just thinking about how much he loved you and how much you loved him and boy. is it hot in here?

His hand felt so gentle on your back. You pulled the hand that was intertwined with yours to your lips. It was right there of course you had to kiss it. The color of your lipstick marked his skin. He stumbled right then, stepping on your foot.

“I am so sorry, darling!” he pleaded.

“It’s okay babe,” you laughed it off.

You didn’t blame him. It was your fault really. You distracted him.

The band started playing a slower song. Y’all got closer. As y’all slowly swayed to the melody, you rested your head on Douxie’s shoulder. You could here him humming along. He must know this song, you thought.

You pressed a kiss to his temple. He made a cute little noise in the back of his throat. Smiling to yourself, you took the time to savor this moment. His chest was pressed so close to yours you could feel each other’s heartbeats. It was sweet. The music, the dancing, your partner. The other people might as well not be there.

“Hey dewdrop,”

“Mmmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Douxie stayed silent. You softly looked back up at his face. He was staring into space, right above your head, incredulously.

“It is February 14, innit?” you quirked your brows up at his mystified tone, “oh dear, that explains why there’s so many people here.”

“Doux!” you bust out into laughter.

“I hadn’t realized,” he scratched the back of his neck, “somehow,”

“And here I was thinking you were so suave,” you teased.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t notice because everyday feels like Valentine’s when I spend it with you, Y/n.”

You planted one on him as passionate as you could get in a public place. Douxie stumbled a bit. Your tongue slipped past his, giving you butterflies. Douxie parted from you with a gasp.

“I— uh,” Doux cleared his throat, “may be tired of dancing already.” he tried to be nonchalant.

“There is a bottle of wine I was saving for tonight in the kitchen,— woah!—“

He spun you one last time, “Sounds like the natural end to our evening then.”

[guesswhogotaname]

May I suggest something?

Après une nuit d'insomnie (f*ck le COVID les reufs faites vous vacciner) j'ai pensé à un bail.

(Est-ce que vous connaissez les œuvres de John Bauer ? Faites-moi confiance et allez jeter un œil ça faut le coup !) Merci à Pinterest pour nourrir mon imagination au beau milieu de la nuit !

Un fairytale AU pendranievre 😳 I know c'est éclaté au sol buuuuuuut let me explain :

- Arthur est maudit par les dieux parce qu'il n'a pas réussi à trouver le Graal et c'est désintéressé des souffrances du royaume de Logres (négligé tout le monde / il détestait vraiment ce titre dont il a hérité par son père qui était un sale type donc il s'est comporté comme un idiot = mauvais roi -> il commet la faute avec la femme d'un chevalier) et il devient un ours jusqu'au jour où il arrive à prouver au dieu qu'il peut être quelqu'un de bien

- Perceval my sweet cinnamon roll est là aussi ! Et genre quand Arthur était Roi c'était lui qui l'accompagnait/ le guidait -> il était son ange gardien, mais les dieux le punisse aussi et il devient un mortel (avant c'était une étoile)

- Les deux loustics ils parcourent le monde en mode go sauver le royaume/ trouver le Graal / aider la veuve et l'orphelin et ils tombent sur qui ??? Guess who's there :)

- Guenièvre my beloved!!

- Son histoire : quand elle était ado elle rencontre un chevalier dont elle tombe follement amoureuse, mais ses parents refusent qu'ils se marient (parce que Leodagan my man knows something is wrong with that dude), mais Guenièvre est en mode je suis jeune je fais ce que je veux et elle s'enfuit avec son preux et valeureux chevalier blanc (vous avez comprit de qui on parle).

- MAIS tout ne se passe pas comme prévu ! (Hehehe) Lancelot dit a Guenièvre que pour la protéger elle doit rester cacher le temps que son père accepté son union avec lui et qu'il prenne le pouvoir du bâtard (Hello tutur) du feu Roi Pendragon. Les mois passent Guenièvre commence à se dire qu'il y a un truc qui ne va pas et qu'elle veut revoir sa mif ! Mais son tendre et doux amant commence à partir en cuillère : il lui interdit de plus en plus de truc et ya des bails sombres aussi qui arrivent (yes a lot of angst)

- Après plusieurs années d'emprisonnement, elle réussit à s'enfuir ! En fuyant son gœlier, elle tombe sur un étrange homme accompagné d'un ours !

- Guenièvre explique qu'elle doit retrouver sa famille et aider à renverser le pouvoir du tyran qui la emprisonnée ! Arthur et Perceval sont deter à donner un coup de main. Plein de péripéties arrivent, des aventures qui les emmènent partout à travers l'île de Bretagne. Les relations sont compliqués entre eux au début, mais Arthur découvre Guenièvre comme une femme forte au passé sombre...

- Guenièvre elle peut pas blairer Arthur au début parce que c'est un abruti (yas Queen) mais un étrange lien les unissent...

- Guenièvre et Perceval being best friend with one brain cell please I love them <333

La question est : arriveront-ils à sauver Arthur avant qu'il ne soit condamné à rester un ours toute sa vie? Est-ce que Perceval retournera dans les étoiles? Guenièvre réussira-t-elle à sauver le royaume de Logres?

Je me suis grave motivée dans mon coin à écrire un vieux bail digne des contes pour enfants 💪 (peut-être je trouverai la foi de publier un chapitre héhéhéhé)