#mon rêve

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ A Lamb Between Wolves |Mon Rêve|

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Summary: It all began with a mistake that followed you like a shadow on a sunny day. You crossed paths with the enigmatic Archdeacon of Notre-Dame, Father Jeon Jungkook, who promised to protect you from demons he couldn't fight. 15th Century, Paris. A lie. A stolen heartbeat and a confession that was never heard. He wanted you. You needed him. A secret turned into poison just as fate was cruel and it made him love you. Bounded by his vows and his position, Jungkook could only keep you as close as a dream at his reach. A cruel dream forged in a sanctuary of shadows and thorns.

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), allusions to sex, lust, secrets, angst, fluff, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 1.8k words

A/N: Part 1 of "Mon Rêve" is here as promised darlings! Let me know what you think in the comments! Likes and reblogs are really appreciated.

He remembered the first time he saw her. He remembered the first time he heard her voice. He remembered the way his heart had skipped a beat at the sight of her beauty. He remembered it all. Remembered it with pain and melancholy that burned his soul and clawed at his heart. 

And now, as he looked at her, at you, he couldn’t help but yearn for that forbidden touch. That sinful desire that had consumed his thoughts for so long. A burning passion that he barely kept at bay. A poison that nurtured his heart but killed his soul. 

The first time he saw you was at the marketplace. Your hair, those (h/c) locks flew in the air as you danced. The flowy skirts of your dress lifted from the ground as your bare feet twirled and floated over the cobblestones. It was magical. Like a beacon of hope amidst a storm. He remembered he had wanted you at that moment. You looked so free, so innocent, so beautiful that his mind replayed over and over that day at the marketplace during his dreams. Being both a blessing and a nightmare. 

But Jungkook had a role in society he couldn’t break. He had made vows. He had made a promise. He represented the sanctity of the Church. He was not just a man, he was a beacon of hope for the parishioners of the cathedral. 

The next time he saw you had been during a stormy day. The people had scurried away to seek shelter from the rain and you had run to the cathedral, seeing it as a sanctuary through the grey day that threatened to swallow Paris. 

He saw you from the upper floor, not sure how to approach you as you took a deep breath, shivering due to your wet clothes. He saw your delicate features be illuminated by the soft flames of the many candles that stood proudly among Notre-Dame. You stood there, looking at the imposing cathedral with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Your hair dripped with the remnants of the water and if he concentrated enough, he could hear the drop hitting the ground. Or maybe that was only his heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

Jungkook descended the stairs, staying hidden in the shadows as he watched with intense eyes and a deep desire that would destroy him if he dared the flames of his passion get tangled with your innocent form. 

“What brings you to the cathedral, my dear?”

You jumped at the sound of the deep voice that belonged to the intimidating Archdeacon of Notre-Dame. You turned around, locking eyes with his tall form cladded in black. The candles sharpened his features and you gulped as you looked up at him. 

“I was seeking refuge from the rain, Father Jeon. Forgive me if I have intruded where I am not welcome.”

You saw his stern features soften slightly yet the intensity in his dark eyes remained. He took a step forward and you forced yourself to stay rooted in your place. His tall, imposing figure made you gulp but you couldn’t break eye contact. Almost as if he had trapped you in a dance you didn’t know you liked to perform as well. 

“Everyone is welcome in the house of God. Now tell me, what’s your name?”

He needed to know. A burning need that travelled down his spine and made his hands itch with the desire of touching your soft-looking skin. 

“(y/n).”

Your voice sounded so soft. So pure. It made him want to listen to it forever. He wanted to hear you sing, wanted to hear you tell him about your day. He wanted to hear you scream  his name if he were to ever make you his and his alone. 

“(y/n)... Come with me, my dear. You’ll catch your death in those clothes.”

Those clothes that were as sinful as the skin of temptation. Your blue skirts were in a darker shade now, but your off-shoulder white blouse did little to keep your dignity to yourself for the fabric was nearly transparent due to the rain. The only thing that kept his eyes from wandering down your chest was your long hair that cascaded down and covered your breasts to some point. 

You followed him as he walked through the nave, the soft padding of your bare feet against the cool floor beneath you matched the rhythmic pattern of your heart. You took a chance to look around, taking in the high ceilings and tinted windows that made colours reflect on the stone floor. The flickering candles cast long shadows that told many secrets among the darkness of the holy place.   

As you trailed behind Father Jeon, the silence between you was almost palpable, broken only by the faint echo of your footsteps. The heavy, rain-soaked air clung to your skin, making you shiver slightly. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe and apprehension as you continued to follow the Archdeacon deeper into the cathedral, each step amplifying the tension that simmered between you.

He led you to a small room off the side of the main hall, a private chamber where the clergy would rest and prepare for services. The room was modestly furnished, with a wooden table, a few chairs, and a wardrobe. The air was warmer here, and you felt a slight relief from the chill of your wet clothes. Jungkook gestured to a chair, his movements calm and collected.

“Sit, (y/n).”

His voice was gentle yet commanding, leaving no room for refusal. You did as he instructed, your heart pounding in your chest. He moved to the wardrobe and pulled out a thick, dark robe, the fabric was soft to the eye and looked up at him as he spoke once more, his deep voice resonated over the room even when he spoke with a softness that contrasted deeply to the way he had spoken to you when he found you at the entrance of the cathedral. 

“This should keep you warm. I will step outside to give you some privacy while you change.”

You nodded, grateful for his consideration. As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but watch him, the way his robes flowed around him, the way his presence seemed to fill the room and you couldn’t help but notice just how strikingly handsome he was. There was something about him that drew you in, something more than just his position or his authority. It was something far deeper and dangerous to explore. 

Once the door closed behind him, you quickly shed your soaked garments and slipped into the robe. It was far too large for you, but it was dry and warm, and it smelled faintly of incense and something distinctly masculine.A soft knock on the door startled you, and Father Jeon’s voice came from the other side.

“Are you decent?”

“Yes, Father.”

Your response lacked its usual strength. As if something choked your words to stay hidden within the chambers of your heart. 

He re-entered the room, his eyes immediately finding yours. There was a softness in his gaze now, a gentleness that belied the stern exterior he presented to the world. He approached you, his steps slow and deliberate, and took a seat across from you.

“You’re safe here, (y/n). Tell me, what truly brings you to Notre-Dame on a night like this?”

Your heart quickened, you couldn’t answer him that. You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t open your heart to him in that way for you feared he’d cast you away. 

“Because of the rain, Father. My home was far away when the pouring started.”

He eyed you for a moment. As if studying you. In a way, he was. It was late at night, you should have been home by now if what you were saying was true. Not that he didn’t want to believe you. He’d fall on his knees in front of you if you asked him to but he couldn’t yet shake the feeling of something lurking in the shadows. Of something darker and deep threatening to take a hold of him the moment he were to show a bit of vulnerability. Jungkook sighed before he stood up, his silence was killing you and you thought for a second that he was going to tell you to leave. 

“I’ll give you a room for the night. Follow me.”

Wordlessly you obeyed. You followed Jungkook through the dimly lit corridors, your footsteps echoing in the stillness. The vastness of the cathedral seemed to close in around you, each flickering candle casting long, wavering shadows on the stone walls. The silence was almost tangible, broken only by the soft rustle of Father Jeon’s robes and the distant patter of rain against the stained-glass windows. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe, apprehension, and an unsettling undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.        

He led you to a secluded part of the cathedral, stopping before a heavy wooden door. Pushing it open, he revealed a small, cosy room with a simple bed, a wooden desk, and a small fireplace. The room was modest but exuded a sense of warmth and safety, a stark contrast to the cold, damp night outside.

“You can stay here for the night.”

He said, turning to face you. His eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of something dark and intense passing through them before he looked away.

“Thank you. You have given me kindness that I have not found anywhere else.”

His expression softened and he resisted the urge to step forward and embrace your smaller form as you looked at him with wide and sincere eyes that melted his frozen heart. 

“You deserve kindness, (y/n). You can be sure that you are safe within these walls. The cathedral is a place for sanctuary. Let your heart be at ease, my dear.”

You nodded, overwhelmed by his kindness and the emotions coursing through you. As he stepped back and left the room, you noticed the lingering tension in his gaze, a suppressed desire that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. As you settled into the bed, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, you felt a comfort you hadn’t known in a long time

Father Jeon’s words echoed in your mind as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a sense of safety and belonging. Yet, within the walls of Notre-Dame and under the watchful care of the enigmatic Father Jeon, you also sensed an undercurrent of tension—a suppressed desire that left you both intrigued and unsettled.

As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t shake the image of his intense gaze, the power he radiated nor the feeling that beneath his calm exterior lay a storm of emotions waiting to be unleashed.

July/23/2024

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[sigurism]

The Corinthian | Boyd Holbrook The Sandman -1.01 -Sleep of the Just

[cruelviolence]

Amour d’automne 🧸🍂💌

L’automne est ma saison préférée car c’est la période où je ressors mes bottines préférées

Octobre s’approche et j’ai toujours voulu écrire une histoire d’amour

Je voudrais voler le cœur de quelqu’un

Je n’ai jamais dit que l’amour n’existait pas

L’amour c’est beau chez les autres

Octobre s’approche et j’attends toujours qu’il arrive

Mon cœur veut le conquérir et qu’il soit avec moi

Je n’imagine même pas toutes les filles qui ont pu être avec lui

Je veux réparer son cœur et qu’il voit ma douceur

Je suis celle qui l’attendait le moins et je peux être meilleure qu’elles

Octobre c’est son mois d’anniversaire et si on était déjà ensemble je voudrais qu’il me regarde dans les yeux et que je suis son plus beau cadeau

Si seulement nos âmes pouvaient se rencontrer ?

L’automne c’est la saison où on trouve l’amour et réchauffer le cœur de l’autre

Je voudrais réchauffer son cœur et sentir sa peau sur ma peau

Me réchauffer avec un plaid et poser ma tête sur sa poitrine

Je voudrais qu’il soit mon mémoire d’automne

Ce roman d’amour qui attend toujours le début d’une vie amoureuse comme dans mes films préférés

Je voudrais être son ange gardien et le protéger pour qu’il puisse être heureux avec moi

Même si l’amour me fait peur je peux sentir sa présence lorsque je ferme les yeux

Alors que je m’attendais pas du tout que ça soit lui

Un amour d’automne qui n’a jamais été aussi fort

Je n’ai jamais pleuré pour quelqu’un d’autre que lui

Je veux qu’il soit mon premier et mon dernier amour

L’automne arrive et à chaque fois je penserais toujours à lui jusqu’à le jour viendra où nos cœurs se rencontreront

[runecneht]

regret

Nothing has been the same, nothing will ever be the same. Agony's distorted verbal attacks from the near but very present past, the calmness of the wind as it frisk the forest with its delict hands spreading an abundant amount of pollen as spring grows near and near. I ask the question of what will bring me back to clarity and normality but its not as simple as moving on or letting go you have to forget every last drop of blood that was ever shed the countless mistakes and hardships you've cost people. In this scope of matter and forms there is no longer a soul that knows me, now I'm just wondering to leave soon and be put to rest by decay of natural process. That's truly alone now I'm just a shell of who I once was my potential has fallen there is no other word that suites me more then regret. I regret staying a live for those I loved and I regret living, nothing will ever feel normal again not love not any relationships. My heart is nonexistent.

[vhscorp]

Je ne fais pas ce que je veux mais mon âme est libre, personne ne la gouverne, personne ne la contraint, personne ne la domine, elle m’appartient, tout comme mes rêves, et ça, jamais personne ne me l’enlèvera…

V. H. SCORP

[unionizedwizard]

literally the only thing that unites ALL french people, regardless of class, values, background, milieu, job, etc, is that they're physically unable to write a grammatically correct interrogative sentence. i am the lone delusional knight fighting windmills out there (l'inversion du sujet dont personne ne semble avoir entendu parler, apparemment)

[sloubs]

besoin de voir une drag queen cracheuse de feu qui performe en arthur pendragon et qui fout le feu à son épée

[chaotictomtom]

ALLOOOOOOOOO???!????;?!?!?;?_?;?(€+_ J'AI PAS EU LA NOTIFICATION DU MAIL JE VOIS ÇA QUE MAINTENANT ?????

[disease]

COCOROSIE // BY YOUR SIDE [LA MAISON DE MON RÊVE, 2004]

I'll always be by your side Even when you're down and out

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ Heart Of Secrets |2| Mon Rêve

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Summary: It all began with a mistake that followed you like a shadow on a sunny day. You crossed paths with the enigmatic Archdeacon of Notre-Dame, Father Jeon Jungkook, who promised to protect you from demons he couldn't fight. 15th Century, Paris. A lie. A stolen heartbeat and a confession that was never heard. He wanted you. You needed him. A secret turned into poison just as fate was cruel and it made him love you. Bounded by his vows and his position, Jungkook could only keep you as close as a dream at his reach. A cruel dream forged in a sanctuary of shadows and thorns.

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), angst, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.2k words

A/N: Hi, darlings! I'm trying to get back to writing after my extensive break. I'm still not on my 100% but I'm getting better! I really hope you will like this second part of the story. Let me know what you think in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, my darlings :)

Father Jeon Jungkook was a devoted Catholic. He had maintained chastity as he served the Church with his entire being. But lately, his heart had burned with the flames of hellfire when it came to the cute Romani girl that had intrigued him so much. He now knew your name. (y/n). A name that suited you to perfection. A name that repeated over and over in his dreams and was now engraved in his heart. 

He woke up with anxiousness lacing his actions as he quickly got dressed before his long strides were carrying him through the stone corridors of the cathedral to the room he had given you last night. 

The flickering candlelight sharpened his features and made his shadow look longer than it originally was. His hands trembled at his sides as his palms itched to touch your soft-looking skin. His heart raced at the mere thought of seeing you. The sun was starting to illuminate Paris with their first rays of warm light and Jungkook thought how the sun would look reflected in your enchanting (h/c) locks.

But his hopes crumbled down like a castle of sand when he opened the door to your room only to find it empty. Everything was folded neatly, almost as if no-one had ever stepped into the bedroom as of lately. His heart sank as he stared into the empty room, the neatly arranged furnishings mocking his anticipation.

The silence was heavy, a stark contrast to the bustling energy that had filled his thoughts since he had first laid eyes on you. He had imagined this moment so vividly—envisioned seeing you waking up, greeted by the first light of dawn, perhaps sharing a smile or a quiet conversation.

His eyes swept over the room, searching for any sign of your presence. The bed was immaculate, the linens folded precisely. The clothes he had seen you wear the night before were nowhere to be seen. 

Jungkook’s eyes caught sight of something hiding under the bed, highlighted by the colourful rays of sun that filtered through the stained glass window. He bent down, picking out a bracelet made of silver and different gemstones. He had seen you wear it last night when he found you in the nave and you were drenched to the bone. 

His hand tightened around it, feeling the metal dig into his skin as he held onto the only object you left behind. The only thing that proved your presence within the cathedral. That what had happened last night was not a dream born of his desires. 

Jungkook's breath hitched as he clutched the bracelet, the cold metal grounding him in the harsh reality of your absence. His mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Had you left on your own accord, slipping away into the labyrinthine streets of Paris before the sun fully rose? Or had something—or someone—forced you to leave in such haste?

His heart hammered in his chest, the echo of its beats resonating through the silent cathedral. Jungkook could still see the image of you, drenched and shivering, your wide eyes filled with both fear and defiance as you stood before him. He had wanted to protect you, to shelter you within these sacred walls, away from whatever danger had driven you here. But now, that resolve was splintering as dread crept into his soul.

There was nothing that he wanted more in that moment than to go out into the city and search for you but the title of his position and his duties stopped him. He had a role to play, he had a title to uphold and as much as his want to have you near was overwhelming, Jungkook was a man of God. He couldn’t let himself be swayed by simple carnalities. 

If you had wanted to stay, you would have. And if you were to come back, he could only pray for it to be soon. As he burned to catch a glimpse of your beauty. If only for just a second would suffice. 

Days passed and just as a flame, the archdeacon’s hope began to dwindle to see you again. He had been mesmerised by your beauty and wanted to protect you from the moment you stood in that cathedral seeking refuge. He sighed to himself as the thought crossed his mind, it was six o’clock. His evening Mass had just concluded and he watched from the altar as the parishioners left with soft murmurs that resonated over the tall ceilings of the cathedral. 

Jungkook lingered at the altar, his eyes trailing over the last of the parishioners as they filtered out of the cathedral. The sound of their footsteps on the cold stone echoed in the vast, empty space, amplifying the loneliness that had settled deep within him over the past few days.

He had thrown himself into his duties, hoping to drown out the thoughts of you that haunted him both day and night, but it was no use. The memory of your face, your voice, even the way your clothes had clung to your damp skin, had become an indelible part of his mind.

He sighed heavily, his hand instinctively reaching for the bracelet he had tucked into the pocket of his robes. The feel of the cold metal against his fingers was a small comfort, a tangible reminder that you had been real, that your brief presence in his life wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He had often found himself staring at the door of the room where you had stayed, half expecting to find you there, waiting for him, as if you had never left. But each time he was met with emptiness, the cold reality of your absence hitting him anew.

As the last of the parishioners exited the cathedral, the grand doors creaking shut behind them, Jungkook was left alone in the silence. The soft light of the candles illuminated the altar, casting long shadows that danced across the stone floor. He had always found peace in these moments of solitude after Mass, but now, the quiet only served to amplify the hollow ache in his chest.

He was about to turn and retreat to his quarters when the sound of light footsteps caught his attention. They were hesitant, almost as if the person didn’t want to be heard. His heart leapt into his throat, a mixture of hope and dread flooding his senses. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over the dimly lit interior of the cathedral, searching for the source of the sound.

And then he saw you. 

You stood at the entrance of the nave, your figure partially obscured by the shadows. But there was no mistaking the outline of your smaller form, the way your (h/c) hair framed your face, catching the flickering light. For a moment, Jungkook thought he was dreaming. His heart raced as he took in the sight of you, his mind struggling to comprehend that you were truly there.

“(y/n).”

He breathed your name in relief, his voice barely a whisper but it seemed to carry across the vast space between you. 

You hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, your footsteps echoing softly as you approached. Jungkook couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, his gaze drinking in every detail—the way your dress swayed with each step, the slight tremor in your hands, the uncertainty in your eyes as you looked at him. You stopped a few feet away, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Are you alright?”

Jungkook finally asked, his voice laced with concern. His hands twitched at his sides, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you, to reassure himself that you were truly here.

“Yes, Father Jeon. Please don’t worry about me.”

What an impossible request. He thought to himself. Your tone was polite, but distant, and it cut through Jungkook like a knife. He had imagined this moment so many times, but the reality of it was far from what he had hoped. There was a barrier between you, one that hadn’t existed the night you had sought refuge in the cathedral. He could see it in your eyes, in the way you held yourself as if ready to flee at any moment.

You reached into the small pouch at your side and pulled out a delicate object wrapped in a piece of cloth. 

“I wanted to thank you for helping me that night.”

Your voice softened slightly as you held the gift out to him. Jungkook stared at the offering, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. He accepted the gift with trembling hands, carefully unwrapping the cloth to reveal a small, intricately crafted amulet. The design was unmistakably Romani, the tiny charms and symbols woven together with expert craftsmanship. It was beautiful, and the gesture touched him deeply.

“You will always have a place here if you ever need it, (y/n). You can find sanctuary within these sacred walls. It is a right as a child of God.”

You took in his words. The way his eyes softened while a shadow of a darker part of himself suddenly passed in front of his eyes. 

“I do not belong to this place, Father.”

He frowned, noticing the sadness that laced your words. The detachment to which you saw yourself and the only safe place you could run to. 

“You belong here as much as I do. Remember, my dear, the cathedral can protect you.” 

I can protect you.

But he didn’t say that last sentence out loud. He looked down at the amulet now in his hands, his fingers brushing over the intricate designs. 

“It’s beautiful.”

His murmured words reached your ears and you felt your heart skip a beat at his subtle praise. He looked back down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the warmth he had seen that night, but you were already stepping back, your gaze averted.

“I should go.”

Your voice trembled as you spoke, the words rushed as your hands fisted the fabric of your colourful dress. You turned to leave, but Jungkook couldn’t let you go. Not again.

“Wait.”

He called out. His voice was more urgent than he intended. He reached out, his hand gently catching your wrist. You stopped, but you didn’t turn to face him. The young archdeacon swallowed as sparks awoke where his skin touched yours. His chest tightened, so did his grip around your wrist as his mind raced to find the right words. 

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? You can tell me. I can help you.”

His thumb brushed over your skin in soothing circles, pleading silently for you to speak, to tell him what was wrong. To accept his extended hand. For a moment, you remained silent, your body tense under his touch. He could feel the conflict within you, the struggle between wanting to confide in him and the fear that held you back. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper, laced with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

“I can’t.”

Your voice was filled with so much sadness and fear that it tugged on his heartstrings. He wanted to yank you toward him and protect you from the world. 

“I can’t tell you, Father.”

You turned around, your eyes met his in a turbulent dance of emotions as you spoke once more in a hoarse whisper as tears gathered in your eyes. 

“I am a dead woman walking. If I speak… I don’t want you to get hurt as well.”

And just like that, you slipped from his grasp, the loss of your touch leaving his hand cold. You didn’t look back as you walked away, your footsteps echoing in the cathedral as you retreated into the shadows. Jungkook stood there, frozen, watching helplessly as you disappeared from his sight once more.

The door to the cathedral closed softly behind you, the sound reverberating in the empty space, sealing the distance between you. Jungkook remained where he was, the amulet clutched tightly in his hand, his heart heavy with the weight of your departure.

He had failed again—failed to protect you, failed to keep you close. The knowledge of your suffering, of whatever burden you carried, gnawed at him, and he cursed the barrier of his position that kept him from reaching out to you fully. He was a man of God, but he was also just a man—a man who had been captivated by you, whose heart now beat to the rhythm of a name that had become his obsession.

As he stood alone in the cathedral, the candles flickering in the dim light, Jungkook knew that he couldn’t let this be the end. He couldn’t let you slip away, not without knowing what troubled you, not without knowing how he could help. He would find a way to reach you, to tear down the walls between you. Even if it meant forsaking everything he had sworn to uphold.

With a final, determined breath, Jungkook turned and made his way back to the altar, the amulet still held tightly in his hand. He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain—he would find you again. And when he did, he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if it meant walking through the very flames of hell that had ignited within his heart.

August/22/2024

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[sigurism]

The Corinthian | Boyd Holbrook The Sandman -1.09 -Collectors

[cruelviolence]

Lettre à toi 💌

Je ne sais pas pourquoi tu es dans mes pensées mais je sais pas pourquoi tu es toujours dans mon cœur. Je parcours mes rêves et dans certains rêves je te vois. Peu importe où que tu sois, j’espère que tu es heureux en ce moment, que tu trouves ton bonheur. Certes je ne t’ai jamais croisé mais tu apparaît comme un flash.

J’espère qu’un jour je te rencontrerai, que nos âmes se rencontrent pour déclencher la flamme de nos corps. Je veux pouvoir t’embrasser lentement, te caresser et te regarder comme si je te voyais pour la première fois. Tu n’es seulement qu’un rêve mais apparemment les rêves peuvent se réaliser il faut juste patienter et attendre mon tour. Je n’ai jamais été l’amoureuse de quelqu’un jusqu’à que tu rentres dans mes pensées. Je préfère de ne pas m’attacher à toi pour ne pas me faire de faux scénarios. Si tu n’es pas un cœur à prendre en ce moment je le comprendrais car je ne suis pas celle qui tu attendais. Mais j’espère croiser ton chemin un jour et savoir si mon cœur avait raison. Je ne sais pas encore si c’est réciproque mais pour l’instant ce sont ces mots là.

Ce n’est juste des mots et pas des actions. Si seulement je pouvais voler ton cœur pour que tu m’appartienne comme une dernière pièce de puzzle. Il me manque une dernière pièce et c’est toi. Je ne sais pas pourquoi c’est toi, mais tu es l’élu de mon cœur. J’attendrais le jour où je croiserai ton chemin. Mais en ce moment ton cœur déjà pris donc il est temps que je t’efface dans mes pensées et que je continuerai ma route. Comme si tu n’existais pas, que tu es un inconnu pour moi. Elle doit être tellement chanceuse de t’avoir j’aimerais être à sa place, de me réveiller à tes côtés, de t’entendre ta voix tous les jours comme un remède magique. Je veux être elle mais il n’y aura plus personne qui sera moi. Je vais rester être moi et t’attendre peu importe les heures, les mois et les années j’attendrai le moment venu.

[trashlord-watson]

ptn je savais pas qu'il y aurait des aurores boréales la nuit dernière, visible même depuis le finistère, j'ai tout loupé, j'ai envie de chialer vous avez même pas idée

[montypng]

never been sadder that i decided to catch up on french publishing house current events. wdym the french editions of veil by kotteri r probably gonna be out of print forever bc the publishing house who owns the rights is like 99% likely to be bankrupt rn

[iletaitunefoismonjournalintime]

Rêve de colère

Cette nuit, j'ai fait un rêve que je n'arrive pas à sortir de ma tête. Mon compagnon me faisait une de ces réflexions qui ont le don de m'agacer et là, je me transformais en furie. J'étais en train de faire du ménage et je le plaquais contre le mur avec le balais sous la gorge en appuyant bien fort. Après avoir hurlé plusieurs fois "tu m'emmerdes !" je déversais sur lui une colère et un ras le bol contenu depuis bien trop longtemps. Et vous le savez, lorsqu'une personne calme et qui évite le conflit pète les plombs, ce n'est pas beau à voir ! Je lui crachais au visage ma rancœur, suite à toutes ces années sans la moindre tendresse, sans sensualité, sans sexe, sans mot doux, sans attention même infime à la femme que je suis. Toutes ces années seule dans la maison quand il s'enferme dans sa chambre car oui, nous faisons chambre à part, depuis toujours. Je lui reprochais les weekend à la maison, les réflexions au sujet des animaux, le peu d'implication dans l'éducation de notre fils. Tout est sorti bien emballé dans un papier de haine. C'était vraiment violent.

Je dois me marier en septembre. Pas par amour, vous l'aurez compris, mais pour régulariser notre situation après 20 ans ensemble. A nos âges, il faut penser à l'avenir de celui qui restera, quand l'un de nous deux ne sera plus. Et nous pacsé, comme nous l'avions envisagé, ne permet pas d'assurer un complément financier à celui qui restera après la mort de l'un de nous. Les reproches que je lui ai fait dans mon rêves sont bien réels. Mais c'est avant tout un homme très calme, qui se fou que le ménage soit fait ou pas et qui me fous une paix royale . Un homme qui ne remarque pas les détails de ma personne mais qui achète du pain trop cuit alors qu'il préfère le pain blanc, juste parce que moi je l'aime ainsi. Qui m'achète des fleurs et des plantes, en soldes à 1euros chez Lidl certes, mais qui pense à le faire. Qui ne s'occupe pas de l'éducation de notre fils mais l'emmène souvent à des manifestation sportives et a une belle complicité avec lui. Qui râle après nos animaux mais achète des croquettes friandises aux chats et appelle le chien "mon pépère". C'est un homme très casanier, qui n'aime pas partir en weekend et n'accepte les vacances que dans ma famille dans le sud où nous ne faisons presque aucune sortie. Mais c'est un homme qui m'a prouvé que je peux compter sur lui dès qu'il y a une difficulté à affronter. La seule chose que je peux réellement lui reprocher, c'est d'avoir arrêter de voir en moi une femme. De ne pas se rendre compte que je suis souvent seule alors qu'il est dans l'appartement. Mais lui et moi nous n'avons quasiment aucune distraction en commun, nous n'aimons absolument pas la même chose. Petit a petit, le peu que nous partagions c'est évanouie. Je ne suis pas malheureuse, loin de là. Je suis simplement seule, délaissée. Je ne montre rien, je ne dis rien mais par moment cela m'étouffe. Surtout quand j'imagine que ça ne changera jamais et que je vais devoir vivre ainsi jusqu'à la fin de mes jours.

[neiyuu]

Pour la première fois je comprends vraiment le terme de "s'épanouir" dans un contexte de travail.

J'adore mon stage. Je veux bosser là bas. Je veux y aller tous les jours. Svp gardez moi plus longtemps, rajoutez moi des heures.