#flor <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[lunarubra]

Hello! I invented the ultimate time machine! But it has some problems, it can go back in time as far as you want, or to the future.

BUT! if you try to go between 1880-1939 it won't allow you. Same if you want to travel to recent eras, 1995-2023.

Call your favourite character, oc/ship and travel with them across the time (except the aforementioned years.) Let me know where you landed!

You can create a moodboard or only tell me, where you are ❤️.

Just press the button.

@justrainandcoffee Flor, this was such a fun exercise, even though I might have gotten a bit carried away! I’m a huge history geek and have countless time periods I’d love to explore or send my characters to experience.

Hypatia!Jiyan AU

First on my list would be the Byzantine era, when the power center of the Western world was the Byzantine Roman Empire. I’m sure Jiyan would have thrived in this setting, especially in Alexandria, where academic and scholarly pursuits were widely accessible to women. I imagine her working at the Library of Alexandria, surrounded by the greatest minds and texts of the ancient world. For anyone interested in this period, I highly recommend the movie Agora (2009). It tells the story of Hypatia—a philosopher, mathematician, and atheist whose life was tragically cut short by religious extremists (Christians) when they destroyed the last vestiges of pagan knowledge. Her dedication to learning, even under constant threat, reminds me of Jiyan’s character in many ways.

I’d also love to set something in Renaissance Italy. Italy’s major cities became beacons of culture, and Venice was a vibrant hub for artists, scholars, and traveling theatre troupes. I can easily picture a young Jiyan, a Venetian professor deeply invested in the arts.

I have many more ideas but I should stop here for now... xD

[red-riding-wood]

Sending you something nice to eclipse that ask.

♥️.

Flor, I saw this the other day but forgot to respond to it. THANK YOU I LOVE HIM.

Fuck that ask lmao.

[duckydrawsart]

i can't describe what you are to me, to anyone does it make sense if i say, same color as the sun

[somos-deseos]

Relato corto “Cuando te perdí”

Éramos tan diferentes. Sus horizontes apuntaban hacia el sur, los míos se perdían hacia el norte. Su chicle favorito era el de sabor a sandía, el mío es el de canela. El odiaba la canela.

Siempre parecía tan feliz y emocionado y yo estaba recogiendo migajas de serotonina en las aceras del centro, pero no es irónico que tengamos mucho en común, aunque de diferentes maneras, compartíamos la misma ansiedad, sensibilidades y diagnósticos. Nosotros teníamos el corazón endurecido y también hemos endurecido a muchos otros.

Hablamos de estas cosas como si la mesa del bar fuera nuestro sofá. Después de tanto trauma, había catástrofe y ternura en tu forma de mirarme, te devolví una sonrisa tímida y apocalíptica.

Cómo te deseaba y cómo te sentía en mis pensamientos más íntimos e irrazonables. Y cómo sufrí con tu partida, incluso antes de que llegaras.

Qué sensación más desagradable ha sido recoger los fragmentos de mi corazon esparcidos por el suelo.

— Corazón Anónimo 🍒

[florrrfauna]

Feeling very normal and well-adjusted about Pikmin 3 and these guys

[lunarubra]

Flooooooor????? How could Tumblr hide this from me? Pure evil—I was waiting for this!

I know you were worried, but honestly, you nailed it! I’m already so immersed in this universe, and even though we’re just starting to get to know them, I’m hooked.

I love that she’s a musician and composer, growing as an artist. And ugh, her mother! I’m sure you’ll explore their relationship more, and I’m really curious about that dynamic and how it affects Hannah.

That first meeting was just… awwww. We only get a few moments of them together, but they're already so precious. And when he encouraged her? Supported her, even when they barely knew each other? I was swooning and screaming at the same time.

And then… the heartbreak. I was like, “What? How? How dare you?!”

I was already feeling it for Hannah, and when Solomons tried to cheer her up, I wanted to cry. It’s heartbreaking, the way you describe her guilt and lingering love for him—missing him like he’s part of her. But then you saved me with those last messages.

Pooh?! Really? Did you have to use that? Now I’m fully tearing up.

I can’t wait for the next part, Flor! Congratulations on this new story and for trusting us to read it. I know how nerve-wracking posting RPF can be, but you did it!

“Good Morning” (Tom Hardy x fem!oc)

Part 1 of the series: “Only for tonight”

Summary: It's 2012 when Hannah received a call from an important executive to work with them. She's a great musician only until that moment she didn't have the chance to really show her natural talent. The BBC offered her the opportunity to finally do it and at the same time the opportunity to meet him. || Three years later, everything is very different. Two different realities linked by the same phrase: “good morning.”

Warnings: None. Although there's some angst towards the end. || This is pure fiction. All names are made up except his. Even in future chapters all filmography named here was invented. || The story is divided in past (2012) and present (2015)

Words: 2.7 k. || Remember that English isn't my first language. Please, consider leave a comment or reblog considering this is the first time i post this and still don't know what I'm doing 👉👈🥺.

Three years ago.

Hannah Murphy was born in London a morning in middle of May. His father was architect, her mother owner of a several beauty centres and her eldest brother was a neurosurgeon now working in Boston, United States.

Big things were expected from Hannah. Maybe being a doctor like Eric, her brother, or having a PhD in Economics like one if her cousins because first and foremost, the Murphys were successful people. Her grandfather, Mr. Andrew Murphy, was the one who designed the building for one of the most important corporations that existed nowadays in England. So, considering that everyone had their eyes on her, even as kid. But Hannah W. Murphy wasn't born with numbers and theories in her veins, she was born with music.

"You're wasting your life," her mother said when she was 10 and her father accepted to take her to a conservatory of music to learn to play piano. "Look at Eric, he's reading books that are for advanced students! And you're nothing compared to him, Hannah. Music! What kind of shit is that?"

But Hannah knew, even when she was 10, that music it was going to be her life. And she was right.

"Your daughter has a gift," one of her teachers said not longer after she started to study there.

But Greta Murphy, her mother, insisted on study something that could give her a name in the future and her brother thought the same as her. The only one who supported her was her father, Andrew Murphy jr, who was also the only one who went to her first solo in a theatre when she was 15.

Hannah was 16 when one of her plays, composed by herself, was part of a local play. Small, but it gave her some money and the hopes that her dreams could be possible.

Yet, when she finishes school, to stop hearing her mother for once, she decided to study engineering.  During those years, she didn't stop writing music but she just kept it to herself.

At the age of 23, she finished her career and threw the diploma in front of her Great. Hannah never worked as engineer.

Teaching kids and offering her music to different people who was interested in her talent, she was able to earn enough money to rent her own apartment and lm have her the freedom she was craving for.

Seven years later Hannah Murphy, 30 years old, was about to face the biggest change of her whole life.

She was walking Solomon, her black staffy and the most brainless dog in the whole world, when her phone on her pocket started to vibrate. It was an unknown number but she answered anyway.

"Hannah speaking."

"Ms. Murphy?" A female voice on the other side of the line made her stop walking.

"Yes?"

"Good morning, Miss Murphy I'm calling you in name of Mr. Henry Atwood, he wants to have an appointment with you, miss Murphy."

The first Henry Atwood that crossed her mind was the director and executive producer the BBC had and the brain of one of her favourite tv shows the last years. But the idea of someone calling her and saying that  that Henry Atwood wanted to see her was ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. Who's Henry Atwood? and how did you get my number?"

"Mr. Atwood, the tv producer," by her voice tone, Hannah believed that the girl considered her stupid. "I'm his secretary and I got your number because he asked for it to one of the directors you worked with."

"Scott?"

"Mr. Scott, yes"

If it wasn't because she was in middle of a park, Hannah could've screamed.

Travis Scott was a director working on a play and he asked her to help his team with the music. Finally after several failed meetings she ended up working alone and the final result in Travis's words was "the best fucking thing he ever heard."

That was four months ago but she didn't know that he knew Atwood and even less than he was going to receive a call from him. Or his secretary to be more specific.

"Ms. Murphy?"

"I'm sorry I'm trying to understand what's happening… I- the answer is yes! If he wants, yes of course I can. I just need to know when."

"Great. I'll make an appointment, then."

.

Two days later a very nervous Hannah was waiting for Atwood in the waiting room. It was perfectly tidy, with magazines on the glass table, some flyers prompting the movies and TV shows to come and some from previous months. The tiles shone reflecting the lamps on the ceiling.

Hannah felt stupidly nervous. Most people there arranged things thanks to secretaries or managers but she didn't have any of those. She had a dog without brain cells and she was sure Solomon didn't know how to talk. Although she did know that the staffy was the best to calm her and right now she needed his comfort.

Hannah would remember that day for the rest of her life. It was 20th of June, 11:30 am and it was a  guy talking about the European football league on the radio sounding in the background when he saw him for the first time. He was wearing a white shirt and jeans. He'd have been any other man but he wasn't.

"Good morning," Tom said to her who was sitting in the chair next to the office's door, so still that she wasn't sure that was even blinking.

"Good morning," she managed to say.

Don't be awkward.

Tom smiled before walking towards the elevator "call me, okay?" he said to the other man.

"I will."

Both him and Hannah look at Tom go. "Quite a character," he said. "You are Hannah, right? I'm Henry Atwood."

Hannah was still seeing the corridor where he disappeared from their sight and Atwood couldn't help but chuckle.

"Tom Hardy," she said "It was him?"

"Yeah, it was him. We hired him for future our project. And I have an offer for you, too, But please first, come in."

Hannah called Betty, her best friend, as soon as she left the building like if everything was a dream. All was so surreal that she needed something to drink and to eat to process what just happened. Both women went to a pub, ordered beer and fish and chips.

"The main theme?" Betty asked. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh, my god! Your mother is going to freak out and probably pass out. Imagine her telling her friends about this."

"She's going to say that the BBC isn't Hollywood and no one outside England is going to see it. And probably she's going to say that the music is horrible."

"She doesn't know a shit about music."

"But she does know how to destroy people. Believe me, I know."

"Then fuck her. Don't tell her a word, better that way."

"I won't."

"But you already signed the papers?"

"No. I mean I said yes, but I need to make it official. I'm going to read it tonight and then sign them. Fuck me, I can't believe it."

Betty smiled at her Hannah couldn't help but imitate her. That was a good day.

Good morning.

Hannah was very tempted to say to her about her seeing Tom inside the building, but suddenly she felt really silly.  What she was going to say? Do you know I saw Tom Hardy today and he said good morning to me? Besides, it was something so random and something that Hannah believed that wasn't going to happen again that she felt unnecessary to say it.

Next week, Hannah returned to the BBC building with the papers signed and her hopes higher than ever before. Hannah was happy and it was good. Not long ago she ended a relationship that left her with debts, without her motorbike but with Solomon. The only good thing the bastard did was abandoning the dog in her house. Solomon was just an eight-month puppy, playful and sweet, but according to his ex, he was just a waste of money. As if he himself wasn't a waste of money and oxygen.

So these unexpected good news was exactly what she needed. And her first salary was more than welcome.

"There's a meeting this Friday. The whole team," Henry Atwood said. "Including you."

"Including me? But I have nothing to do with the cast."

"That's the point. It's not just the cast. There are always new ideas to add or to erase from the plot, suggestions, new plans. Etc… maybe you can create something even more great if you know what it's this about. Can you come?"

"Yes, I'm free, so… yes!"

"Good then!" Henry offered her a big smile and his hand to shake it "Welcome aboard, Hannah."

Hannah preferred to be one of the firsts to arrive there instead of being there late. It was her first meeting and officially it was also her first day at work. It'd be considered rude to be there late. Not to mention that the idea of people looking at her was something she wasn't used to. Not without her piano as shell, at least.

The meeting office was big and chairs and tables were in a circle so everyone could look at the rest.

Hannah couldn't help but felt nervous. The idea of working for them suddenly hit her in her face with fury.  On her first day at work, she had to leave the office and find an empty place to calm herself. She felt sick and she was hyperventilating. Her mother's voice in her head didn't help at all "You're going to fail, because you're a failure."

"Look at your brother, head of the surgeon committee of Boston."

"Your music is quite mediocre."

"Shut up! Shut up!" she said to herself resting her forehead on the cold window that was in that corridor. The last thing she needed that special day was her mother and her awful vibes with her. "Please, go away."

Hannah closed her eyes and tried to think about good things. Her dog, her best friend, her piano… she imagined herself sitting in front of it and tried to breathe normally again.

"Are you okay?" A male voice brought her again to reality.

Hannah gasped and back off surprised by the unexpected company.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry," he said.

It took Hannah few seconds to recognise that Tom was in front of her, but when she did it, she rushed to reply. "Yes, yes. I- uhm, I was nervous and I felt anxious. I needed to clean my mind. It happens, from time to time."

"Are you sure?"

Hannah nodded as Tom walked to the water dispenser and offered seconds later a glass of water.

"Thanks," she said smiling briefly.

People tend to see celebrities as deities, not humans. Because of course they're people but also, they're beyond of what could be considered approachable. Not everyone could be near one. And suddenly Hannah was few inches away from a famous actor that seemed to be concerned about her. Like, indeed, any good person in the world could be worried about another. Famous or not.

"I started today," Hannah said "I think my brain felt I couldn't do it."

"It's normal, a new job make everyone feel nervous. You'll be fine. You'll see. What's your name?"

"Hannah Murphy."

"The composer," Tom said. His voice denoted surprised and he smiled at her "Henry talked a lot about you. You're a little celebrity here."

"Oh, please, no! I'm just- I'm not. I Just play the piano."

"It seems to me that more than that. Were you in the meeting?"

"I tried to be there before feeling sick."

"Come on, Hannah. They'll love you, don't worry about it."

Tom smiled at her again and something in his reassuring made her feel better. Together they entered in the meeting room.

___

Now. Three years later.

The apartment was still dark, the windows were closed despite the morning was a reality. She could hear the cars, people… even birds. Everything was the proof that outside those walls nothing changed.

Hannah didn't sleep in the whole night in that bed  that now semeed to be awfully big for her. The empty spot.

She didn't want to cry again, but new tears appeared in her eyes.

Where was her morning kiss on her shoulder? The beard tickling her skin? The "let's stay five more minutes"? His morning coffee, too strong for her taste, but whose smell was synonymous with the beginning of a new day?

It's not like Hannah didn't break up with another person before… but never before everything hurt that way.

Tap tap tap.

Solomon was wagging his tail against the wooden floor because he saw her moving in bed. Against all odds, she smiled briefly. She pat the mattress and the dog didn't waste time to jump and snuggle with her in a single motion. His big head was now on her chest and she caressed it with her hand.

"You're hungry, aren't you?"

The animal looked at her. He didn't know anything about broken hearts, empty beds and tears. But he could feel her sadness. He'd wait for his breakfast until she felt better. Solomon settled closer to her.

It was 10am when she finally decided to go out of bed. The sun was shining, the city was indeed awake long time ago. Looking through the window she'd say that everything was the same. Only it wasn't.

Her phone was full of messages from her family and friends. Especially Betty. But Hananh didn't have the energy to deal with them, especially not her mother that for sure was ready to say that she was nothing but a disgrace, not even smart enough to keep a relationship with the best man she ever found. And for the first time in her life, Hannah hated the feeling that her mother was right.

She sat on her couch with a cappuccino mug in her hands and some toasts on a plate. On a chair on the opposite side of the living room still was one of his T-shirts, one that she stole from his wardrobe and ended its days as her pyjamas. She didn't use it for a while and she didn't want to touch it now, afraid that it'd smell like him.

The memories of the previous night overwhelmed her. It was her fault, she knew. For being too weak. Her mother was right, she wasn't like the rest of them, never was.

The sound of a new message caught her attention. She didn't need to see who it was. That was his ringtone, she personalized it long time ago.

Hannah took her phone and read the message.

[Can we talk? Ily]

Hannah pictured Tom in his house with his own dog next to him. His phone next to his nose because probably his glasses were somewhere where he couldn't find them.

She ruined it.

She received a new message from him.

[Pooh, let's talk]

Hannah broke into new tears when she read her nickname. No one before him ever called her Pooh. And everything started the moment he knew her second name was Winifred. Winnie. Hannah hated the name and she always used just the W, as reference for it. But with Tom, Hannah learnt to love her second name, even before dating. Or maybe it was because it was him.

Hannah called Tom.

He answered before the second ring, for a moment no one talked until he did "Good morning, Pooh."

[bitchfendi]

flor

[jooillusion]

Flor I need me some good soup (Junhan smut) 😮‍💨😮‍💨

i’ll *attempt* to feed you some good soup c:

first things first this fucking look

like come on i just wanna ruin him fr he’s just too cute to me </3 pls hear me out on this love

it was three am you found hyeongjun after the party you both were at that was shut down by the police, the boy obviously separated from his friends as he wandered the streets. you’d seen him in your lecture, even offering him small talk but nothing ever went too an extent to call you friends. he was just an associate. you two had no choice but to walk down the downtown area back to the dorms together, feeling as if you were walking in circles due to how long you and hyeongjun have been walking together.

however with hyeongjun it felt like a mere few minutes. he opens up to you like a book and spills everything to you while you just take it all in. he would’ve rather spent his saturday in his quiet dorm room reading a book or watching a romance movie, but his friends wanted him to go out and meet more people.

“i was actually dared by my friends to get “laid” tonight,” he tells you. your taken aback by his straightforwardness, but quickly recovers when he says, “whatever that means.”

“do you want me to show you?” he nods his head hesitantly, not knowing where the next half hour would lead, you grabbing his wrist and leading him to a place you know nobody would find you two.

“you can handle it, right junnie?” you whisper in hyeongjun’s ear. he breathes hot and heavy into the air, his head thrown back into the brick wall of the dark alleyway.

he’s heavy in your hands and he’s been on edge for the past five minutes, wanting nothing more than the relief of releasing, to which your mocking laugh rings through his ears. his hushed pleas carry easily in the nook for the narrow alleyway, an open window a few inches away would definitely hear and be aware of what’s going on.

he’d lock his current state in his mind and take it to his grave. if anybody found out about him whimpering under a hand that isn’t his in an alleyway, he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his friends.

you, on the other hand, wouldn’t rather be doing anything else right now. hyeongjun was perfect to you. the way his fingers curl up on the brick wall behind him. the way his hair fell out of his face. the way his skin illuminated in the moonlight mixed with the dim streetlight only meters away. the way he tries to keep quiet with every movement of your palm squeezing and stroking him. your wrist burns as a cramp slithers its way up your arm but you don’t care, you need to see hyeongjun unravel under you.

“can…can you kiss me? please?” his red lips manage to utter out, swollen from being bitten. you lean up to slot your lips between his, his hand immediately removing itself from the wall to bunch up your hair, pulling your head closer. your hand stops for a second, feeling him full on thrust into your fist, in which you tighten for his pleasure. he cries out in your mouth, his frustrating high fading away.

you pull away, hyeongjun’s glasses now crooked against his face. you giggle quietly, to which his hips stop.

“i’m sorry i’ve just never-”

“you’re fine junnie.” your free hand comes up to fix his glasses. his lips curl up into a small smile.

his cock throbs in your hand, craving for even more stimulation. you crouch down, knees hitting the dry concrete of the ground, hyeongjun’s dazed eyes watching your mouth just mere centimeters away from his cock. the tip of your tongue catches the slit and leaves kitten licks that blank hyeongjun’s mind almost instantly, his nimble fingers throwing themselves in the air, hesitant before testing out a small tug on your hair.

your chuckle leaves him unsure whether or not he’s doing something right, but he doesn’t second guess himself any longer when your mouth closes around his cock. he can’t bring himself to look down or he knows he’d cum on the spot, the sounds of you slurping vibrate through his ears tempting. it punches out a deep groan from hyeongjun, his grip in your hair tightening. the corners of your mouth stretch the more you take in, spit escaping easily from your lips and dripping onto the dark concrete of the ground, hyeongjun’s cook twitching once again in your mouth. you pull away, stroking the base of his cock with ease thanks to the spit used as lube.

“look at me.” you say just above whisper. he shakes his head, leaning it back, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. “i won’t let you cum if you don’t, hyeongjun.”

his toes curl under his sneakers when your nose suddenly touches his pelvis. he’s close and he can’t even spit out a warning, his hips shallowly thrusting into your mouth and his hand attempting to hold your head still. he cries out, unconcerned of anyone in the windows above who know what’s going on at this point. he’s brought back to reality when your hands hold his thighs to keep yourself balanced and it catches his attention, hyeongjun looking down at you on instinct.

all it took was seeing his cock in your mouth and your now ruined makeup for hyeongjun to cum down your throat, easily swallowing the spurts of his cum. his hand lets go of your hair and you’re the first to pull away, hyeongjun slumping against the brick wall once you let go fully.

“think you can give me more, junnie?” your voice comes out hoarse and it makes hyeongjun’s ears burn red. he’s out of breath, and he’s trying to regain his senses so he can fully register your question, but he just answers with a nod.

your hand that guides his bigger hand underneath your skirt is what finally brings him back to reality.

hi

i rlly dk if i like the way i wrote this but i hope you enjoy it love 🫶

[lunarubra]

Rose x Alfie Moodboard

"What problem?" asked her.

"Criminality."

"But Alfie didn't do anything, everyone knows he runs a bakery and nothing else. There's nothing to prove that..."

"No Alfie, you," interrupted her brother, "your prison records."

"Is this a joke?" exclaimed the woman, raising her voice, "are you making fun of me?"

Alfie giggled. "I married a criminal."

This little blurb is my favourite part from 'Rose Coldwell x Alfie Solomons', here you can find the amazing Masterlist from @justrainandcoffee. Do yourself a favour and go check it out, even if you are not an Alfie fan (I wasn't), you will became one.

I am not sure if I did them justice, Flor. I wanted to create a moodboard only with Rosie, to celebrate her, but Alfie was being a freaking child about it. Every time I was done, he was complaining about not being included. Apparently, in my crazy brain, there is no Rosie without Alfie, so... I am sorry, Rose, he pushed me around until I relented and included him too. I just want to add how important your stories and this amazing character are to me. It was one of the first blogs I was introduced to when I fell into the rabbit hole of Tumblr's PB. I know it's nothing special, but she deserves all the celebrations in the world <3 Thank you, Flor, for sharing her with us and letting us join in on Rosie and Alfie's shenanigans <3

[dailydccomics]

this misogynistic propaganda ewwww I am sorry Yara, yes this is America Amazons Attack #4

[momorikoz]

I promise... I will be back for you. 

YARA FLOR - WONDER WOMAN

[mel-loly]

-Happy Birthday, Ana!💜✨

@loscompas-blog-uwu

[lunarubra]

Okay, I'm always shocked by your moodboards, Laur. I still have so much to learn, my master Jedi. Please teach me the ways of the Force!

Like... I don't have the words. Compared to yours, mine look like something put together by a kid from the local kindergarten.

Anywho... Yeah, that's German, and it's the right translation. You are much better at it than my kiddos who have studied German for multiple years. I feel like my time would be spent much better trying to teach you than them xD

(and I am sure it's a misspell and I don't mean any harm, but I go by they/them pronouns <3)

Cyanide Love

You will get my cyanide love

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, ich habe nichts gesehen Ich habe nichts gehört, ich werde nicht reden

I know I'm running, but I'll get away, I'm like a ghost, I know you'll never find me I'll get you closer to my hide away, I'm like a ghost, and I'll arise behind you

Deep in the dark, that's when I make you pay, The fear of knowing, oh, it gets inside you These streets are mine, and this is where I reign, You look around, there's only hostile faces

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, ich habe nichts gesehen Ich habe nichts gehört, ich werde nicht reden

You'll take it, you'll break it, in seconds it will be done You'll bite it, can't fight it Your dead end, nowhere to run You turn around, you know you can't run away Sunflowers will be growing over your grave You'll take it, you'll face it The barrel of my smoking gun You will get my cyanide love

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, cyanide love Eins, zwei, drei, vier, cyanide love

Death and I look each other in the eye, We dance a while, and then we kiss goodbye I'll get you closer to my hide away, lead you astray I'm like a ghost, and I'll arise behind you

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, ich habe nichts gesehen Ich habe nichts gehört, ich werde nicht reden

You'll take it, you'll break it, in seconds it will be done You'll bite it, can't fight it Your dead end, nowhere to run You turn around, you know you can't run away Sunflowers will be growing over your grave You'll take it, you'll face it The barrel of my smoking gun You will get my cyanide love

Cyanide love Cyanide love Cyanide love You will get my cyanide love

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, ich habe nichts gesehen Ich habe nichts gehört, ich werde nicht reden

Cyanide love Cyanide love

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, ich habe nichts gesehen Ich habe nichts gehört, ich werde nicht reden

-Cyanide Love by Within Temptation

I feel like this song fits Lucy really well, so here's a little moodboard based around it!

Thank you for viewing! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

Masterlists: Main • Series

[masonscig]

okay i kind of need to go insane about this rebecca line from book one because it's got me riled up LMAO

so, my f-mancer, flor, has the lowest stats with rebecca, at a whopping 5% so any biting dialogue option at their mom's expense is immediately smashed

to tell your mother pretty plainly "i'm good. i don't need you. you were never there for me, " and for her to say "that's not true. i've always loved you," is so? indicative of her character imo?

she doesn't listen to the detective even when they're being straight up direct with her – for me, this interaction negates any of the good rebecca's been trying to do, whether or not she thinks she's coming across as genuine in making amends. how are you going to tell your own child that they're wrong? that what they experienced (a childhood full of loneliness, loss, and forced independence) isn't the full story (your mother loved you from afar but never made the conscious effort to show it)?

it doesn't matter if rebecca was out fighting hand-to-hand combat against supernaturals that were trying to take over the world, she was *not* there for the detective. she chose to be an absent mother! that's a fact! no matter the "good" she was doing for mankind

this whole exchange bothers me so much – maybe the writing doesn't exactly line up (that happens with choice based games sometimes, so i get it) but either way it's poor timing, and adds yet another layer to the complexity of rebecca's relationship with the detective

[sideflorfauna]

C-Side fans how are we feeling 💥💥💥

[kfvarela]

Parte 5: La audición de Peach. 🎬

Part 5: Peach's audition.🎬

Por otro lado, en el antiguo almacén; Adriano y Flor: 💋😘

On the other hand, in the old warehouse; Adriano and Flor: 💋😘

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