#olivierperrier

[flownintothesun]

 ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───    𝟏𝟑. 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬?

                              ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬. ( @imprvdente )

**Disclaimer : I'm not sure how 'weird' all of these will be, but they'll at least be headcanons and I shall do my best to make them silly if I can think of them !!

𝐈. 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐗

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── When Francis gets super duper flustered, he starts hiccuping. It's a very big tell and it's super cute. He'll try to stave it off or hold it back, and then it ends up shaking his whole body. It's pretty much the cutest thing ever and he has a glorious strawberry-red blush to match. So, if you make him hiccup, that means you're doing something to fluster him (good on you). Not that Fish would ever do that, nope, not ever. This headcanon was developed when my dear @olivierperrier was still active.

𝐈𝐈. 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐘

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── In the rare verse where Westley has actually gotten to grow up with his mam on the farm in Scotland — he has an ongoing feud with a rooster named 'The Colonel'. It started when he was a tot and was chased around nonstop. Doris (his mam, @batteredoptimist 's lovely) tried very very hard not to laugh. The rooster lived to a ripe old age and when he was gone, Westley cried, but still curses his name.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── One of Marin's earliest (and only, depending on verse) memories of her mam is of her red hair, and of her singing in Scottish Gaelic to her. Song is a big influence in Marin's life. In quite a few of her verses now, I headcanon her to (unknowingly) be half-siren, if the verse allows for magic. She loves to sing, and it calms everyone around her. Also, no matter the verse, she wears a thistle necklace that her mam gave to her when she was very young. (For more siren!Marin headcanons, click the link.)

𝐈𝐕. 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐕𝐄��𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Hm, at first glance, this Italian badass has no flaws or weaknesses. In fact, he looks like he belongs on the cover of a Harlequin romance book — shirtless and sweaty and sexy all pressed up against some girl. There's just one thing preventing that from happening. Mariano is scared shitless of horses. Why? We don't know. He just told me one day, I laughed, we rolled with it. 11/10 will swear in full Italian fear and will try to play it off. Also, all of those things like 'don't break your spaghetti in front of an Italian. Yeah. True.

𝐕. 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐗

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Probably my newest headcanon (not necessarily a weird one because of all the muses on tumblr, Luci's probably the most underdeveloped of my OCs) is that Luci has heterochromia, meaning that her eyes are different colors. One is a lovely shade of blue-grey (like her mother's), and it leaks into the other eye before turning a soft shade of brown (like her father's).

𝐕𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐋𝐑𝐀𝐒

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Enjolras is one I haven't gotten to write with a ton to develop yet, so I don't have a multitude of headcanons for him. What I do have is a little more tragic than it is 'weird' or 'funny'. For all of the ways he strives to help the underdog, and the poor — Enjolras himself was born into the upper class and a very wealthy family. In school, he learned of the struggles of the people in the streets and kind of tried to martyr himself down to their level to join the fight and use his voice. He cut off his parents and no longer sees them or acknowledges them. Nevertheless, both of his parents love him and want him to come home.

𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐗-𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍-𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐑

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Henry is also a bit of a sad case, I think. Please mind that I have not seen the movie and it's been about a year since my last reread of the book — but I think that when his father died, he very nearly tried to run away and become a stage actor (think Shakespeare type thing) and writer in his father's memory. I actually have a verse for this. However, when his mother shut down, and Bea started coping in unhealthy ways — instead of pursuing grief in the way his heart called him to do so — he internalized everything and was there for everyone else instead.

[voxvulgi]

@olivierperrier​ (cont. from x)

🌸 Put a flower in my muse’s hair

the two men sat in the lovely quiet of the English garden, hands wrapped around warm cups of tea as the spring morning unfolded around them. olivier did not know what to say, and in those cases he found it best not to say anything at all lest he put his foot in his mouth (it was hard enough to talk as it is for the book-keeper). what was he doing here?(!) olivier never before has taken suggestions from a friend to meet with someone, and now he was here sitting next to a perfectly lovely man with nothing to say. at least the garden was beautiful, peaceful enough to give olivier distraction from nerves or other thoughts. this wasn’t a date.

the rain from last night’s downpour had left lovely dewdrops on each flower, making them sparkle. in his hands was the broken head of an iris that had begun to stain his fingers purple. plenty flowers had been shaken from their stalks and laid about them like marooned boats. olivier suddenly felt a warm and gentle touch by his head and instinctively held his breath only to feel damp petals press there. he raises a hand to feel a flower and can’t help the flush that creeps on his face. he glances over at the other man on the bench, smile like a slice of sunshine.

❝is this f..f……..f………f-for me?❞

Cass wasn’t particularly one for gardens, but he did enjoy going places he’d never been. Usually, he did that with his roommate Molly, who made everything less overwhelming for him. With her, Cass’ anxiety was at a minimum, and he could soak in the new experience instead of worry about the 99 problems he made up in his head. It was easy.

This was hard. Going on dates was seriously hard. He’s never me anyone who was interested in hanging out in real life. Usually, the people he met online lost interest the moment they met him. This time, it was basically a blind date. Molly’s cousin took dance classes with this really cute instructor who happened to be gay, and she told Molly, and Molly did what any friend would do: She set up her friend with the Cute Guy. And Olivier -- French name, oh God -- picked their meeting place. And it was this garden. And it was lovely. And what was all Cass could say about it. And he didn’t know what else to talk about. And-- And--

He placed the nearest flower he could grab in Olivier’s hair. There. That was cute, right? He hoped it was cute.

However cute it was, it couldn’t compare with Olivier’s smile when he turned to Cass. The way his lips stretched and his cheeks wrinkled made Cass’ heart very much stop. Oh, God, he was so cute and so out of Cass’ league.

“Y-Yeah,” Cass managed. “For you.�� Only now did he notice that the flower was blue, and only that made him realise just how blue Olivier’s eyes were. He didn’t look at them long enough before, too shy to do so. But now, he had to look at them, and he had to say something, so he said, “It.....brings out your eyes.”

[astrogone]

In this household of a damn blog, we stan Kirby and only Kirby

[endlessdrifter]

twas ordered to wish you a happy birthday and I MUST OBLIGE HAPPY BIRTHDAY also hello nice to meet you

“Ordered”? By whom? I’m willing to bet it was @voxvulgi

But either way, hi!! It’s very nice to meet you and I really appreciate the birthday wishes <3

[unnwin-a]

❝      was you really spying on me    ?      ❞  

                         @olivierperrier​​    /    s.    /    not accepting.

[wildlynaiive]

                              @𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙥 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙖 𝙘𝙪𝙥, a smile lingering on Scott’s lips as he settles in across from Olivier.             “ Well I have to say it’s nice to meet you somewhere other than where you work. ”         His eyes smile more than his lips, toes curling in his boots as they push under the chair he’s settled into.               “ Though I have to say, you picked a place where I literally see the bookstore through the window. ”         He chuckles.          “ Still -- I’ve been waiting a long time for you to want to do this. ”

[siapsymud-moved]

*looks around suspiciously* olivierperrier for the url thing

Send me your URL and I'll tell you

@olivierperrier

My Opinion on;

Character in general: SWEET AND SOFT CINNAMON ROLL WHO MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS. Omg I don’t know, I just love Olivier and the other day I stumbled upon a tiktok by one of the guys that you referenced for his accent and it made my heart warm.  How they play them: So well ;w; I love him \o/ this much The Mun: Eeeee I know we haven’t talked much but you honestly also give off the same cinnamon roll vibes that Ollie does.

Do I:

RP with them: Sort of asdkfjs I owe u all the drafts Want to RP with them: YES, always, let my tol dorks and gloomies love the little shy sunshine

What is my;

Overall Opinion: Lovely mun and even lovelier muse.

[voxvulgi]

@olivierperrier

[timidstrcngth-arch]

𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄     //     @olivierperrier​     //

she is always amazed how some forms of art can so easily encapsulate the human experience , how it is born from personal experience , though somehow is able to resonate with anyone ; no matter what path of life they may be on. valerie has done a lot of reading throughout her life , as books and the characters being created within the pages felt like her friends , and those who she would go to to better understand things and circumstances she has observed , though has yet to truly grasp. when she had been thrust into the real world , she was able to cope a bit better due to those she has found trust in with those novels she collected and near studied. 

she listens with rapt attention , her eyes alight as she absorbs all of the pure poetry he is recounting. when she would find she needed to speak to fill the air , she would find that reciting words said to her and then doing so back is what she would use to understand things better. when she would start a new novel , she would write in the margins , mark her favorite passages , and she would see if one day she would be able to apply these 

“ t--that is l--love--lovely. “ valerie smiles , as she has never heard that one. poetry was the most profound to her , as though it can be seen on a surface level , she reveled in nothing more than going down to the core of it , to see what she can discover. “ i have n---never h---heard of t--that one. “ she admits , so very glad she found someone she can talk about this with ; the literary world was her life. 

[lordofthegoldenflower]

‘ i refuse to listen to reason, i have to listen to so much already. ’

“Fine. I won’t try to reason with you, but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. It just means I’ll say ridiculous things instead.”

@olivierperrier

[mieczlw-a]

Hey, I’m so sorry if this is too obtrusive, but I have legit only been following you for a day and I’m so happy I did. I have always loved Stiles and you do such a great job writing him, and writing in general. It’s really nice to see you on my dash ✨❤️

oh  my  gosh  this  is  so  sweet , thank  you   !  

[flownintothesun]

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── a legacy post dated 27 October 2020 for @olivierperrier.

       𝐈. 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒. The way the chair learns to fold in on his weight and engulf him like an old friend after a time has passed. ‘Listen to this,’ he’d said, before beginning to read a new book, an old book, the book scarcely matters now. New choices, new beginnings, each a dangerous slope. His voice becomes braver with every word that he’s allowed to speak. 'I love you' starts in safe places like Shakespeare and Bronte and Keats. Months pass before he weeps in the chair, voice hoarse from Song of Achilles; and before the most impassioned moments of his read-through of the various scenes of Les Misérables come from Enjolras and Grantaire. From sacrifice. He dives into safety after that, stories of great adventures with no lovers to define them, but only until he finds Siken. Tears on the pages of books are his love for Olivier.

     𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. Soft curls rise at the back of his neck, his skin prickles and he shivers. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. It brings him to tears, to his knees. He sees Olivier laughing, the way their hands had brushed against the same book. Red, red, the color red on his cheeks like the sunset. A supernova resides in his chest and stomach then, growing bigger, brighter, until expelling in a breathless way, a silent way. When he’s gone, the sun burns out. And when he smiles, it is reborn. Each moment with Olivier is another piece of the song that he must write, must write, mustn’t forget. His hands ache, and the clock moves unreasonably. Pages smeared in ink. Every note is his love for Olivier.

     𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄. First he learns the alphabet. He does not write Olivier’s name in his school notebooks beside a heart, but he signs it all the time. O-L-I-V-I-E-R. He presses his own hands to the pitter-patter drumroll of his chest with the name when he learns ‘I love you’. He never dares dream that he’ll use it. Sound that is beloved to him rests in silence as he takes one class, then another, and joins a study group. He finds a way to be comfortable in it, and it comes easier in time. His middle and index finger folded, pinkie and pointer finger raised and thumb outstretched with a wave of his wrist when Olivier isn’t looking is his love as well.

     𝐈𝐕. 𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐘, 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍. There are no promises made as fingers lock together, bumping against headboards. The only words the bookkeeper offers him are his name formed into poetry with breathy sighs and moans coordinating a symphony that he will do his best to remember. Their bodies align like magnets, but move as though they are trapped in each other’s orbit. Humming friction, whispering prayers, bruised lips, the taste of his lover left within his thoughts for days with the dull ache of anything Olivier can offer. He delivers his body to without question, taking and giving and bruising until Olivier’s lips are imprinted on his skin, Olivier’s name sweet on his tongue. He lets Olivier ruin him entirely for anyone else’s love, anyone else’s hand, anyone else’s mouth and body. He whispers words and promises as they come after, until he’s sure that Olivier must know that ‘tu es ma joie de vivre’ means ‘I love you.’ His temple, wrecked and aching, crumbles at Olivier’s feet.

     𝐕. 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍. Wrecking balls sweep the foundation around him, leaving him crumbled, in tatters until he is standing bare, with nothing to give but himself. Will it be enough? Shaking hands branded with other people’s words pick up the first brick. Piece by piece, he builds a home of his own mind and body. He is cold, and he is tired, and Olivier is gone, and still he persists. Every day, he walks with stronger steps. He becomes.  And as soon as he gets the chance, he will reach out his hand, and pull Olivier into the sun. Everything he has ever done has always been out of love.

[voxvulgi]

@olivierperrier​ (cont. from x)

OLIVIER HAD BEEN WAVERING on the point of consciousness for ten minutes or so now. his ceaseless pacing across the garish airport carpet had been tracked by strangers as they passed to their gates and flights only to discover nearly the whole airport was delayed - and understood the short book-keepers pacing.

    except not really, because olivier didn’t give a damn that his flight     was delayed: i mean he did, yes, the airport itself and flying made     him nervous as was, but the real player here was WHY the flights     had been delayed. a massive thunderstorm was rolling in, and it     was predicted to last for hours if not the whole night. arriving freakishly     early (as he always did anywhere: had to be prepared, you know),     olivier had his nervous mood go from twitchy to down-right buzzing     with ill-ease. hence the pacing; he had to keep his mind off of the way    the walls were closing in, ribcage cracking and making it hard to breathe,    hot and cold and hot again and-               no, no, no he’s not doing that. not here.

olvier was running on 37 hours awake. his steps had started to stumble after hour two of straight pacing and approaching hour three it must have become noticeable enough for the other man to step in, quite literally, and break the path of anxiety a trembling olivier had been walking (over and over and over and over and over and–)

      gray eyes had to blink a couple times to take in the bleary shape.       he opened his mouth to try and reply despite only static in his head       in the place where replies would be. so he shook his head and had to       steady himself against the a chair after the action caused his head       to spin. a shaky hand tried something else, reaching up on the off       chance - any chance at all - to sign to the man telling him to pause.    

     «can’t speak»  and then, for the sake of avoiding questions: «deaf»

The worst thing about this delay was not the delay itself. Rather, it was the fact that James had planned on going back to work the day after his flight home. That would be easily fixable by just calling work and letting them know his flight was delayed so he wouldn’t be able to make it tomorrow, but the fact that he’d be losing a vacation day just waiting in an airport was kind of a bummer. Still, he utilised his time by taking out his laptop, getting a coffee, and sitting near a charging outlet to work on some pre-filmed videos. He figured he could edit at least three 15-minute videos until tomorrow, which would set him two weeks ahead of his self-assigned upload schedule. Plus, it wasn’t like he’d fall asleep in an airport and leave his luggae out for grabs, anyway. The coffee should keep him up along with the noise and slightly uncomfortable seat. This should be fine.

One week in France wasn’t the easiest vacation to take budget-wise, but he made it work and enjoyed himself while still having a little money leftover from his maximum spending allowance. He made maybe two vlogs, not bothering to document the whole thing since this vacation was for him, not his viewers or anyone else. Maybe France was a stereotypically romantic place, too, but James figured he didn’t have to wait to fall in love in order to take a proper vacation. He didn’t need someone else to go with him on a romantic getaway; he’d take himself on one, thank you very much, and his fully grown teenage siblings could take care of themselves while he was at it.

Most people in the waiting area ended up falling asleep with their luggage in overprotective arms or under the watch of an acquaintance. There was, however, a man who’s been pacing ever since the delay was announced. At that point, the thunder storm hadn’t rolled in yet. But it has now, letting the intimidation of the sky roll in about twenty minutes ago. James was focused on the task at hand, but he couldn’t help but notice --  in his peripheral vision -- the increased jitter the man in question experienced. He was not only internalising a serious amount of panic but also stumbling as he paced. Soon enough, James was rubbing his screen-fatigued eyes and decided to take a break-- and let the stranger know he should take one, too.

He packed up his laptop and dragged his rolling suitcase (the man was a few steps away, but James wasn’t taking any chances) to approach the pacing path. “You’re nodding off,” he told the man, who didn’t seem to hear him. So, James interrupted the path, as the man seemed to not realise James was getting near him. As he came to a halt before he could bump into James, James said, “Hey, come on. You need sleep.” The man actually needed to steady himself, only adding truth to James’ statement. Then, instead of saying anything back, he signed.

James didn’t get the first part -- he wasn’t expecting this manner of communication and wasn’t ready to process it -- but he got that last word. Deaf. Oh, cool! James smiled despite himself, a little smug that his rusty knowledge of ASL would be coming in handy. (That is if it were ASL and the French sign language didn’t simply share the word deaf with ASL.) He’d only had...what, two regular patients who were mute or hard of hearing? And neither of them have been coming lately, so James was almost grateful to be able to converse this way. Especially to a person who seemed to be losing his head. In return, James signed, «You look very tired. Let me help you. Come sit down.»

[astrogone]

❝ @ mutuals, send me a 🍓 and I’ll compliment you! ❞     /     pt. 5

🍓 @apochestriia: Cynthia, oh my gosh, I am!? Honestly, the moment I went into your blog after you followed me, I was so shook thinking how could anyone so awesome like you even find my blog!? Though, yes, when I checked it out, I swear, everything about your blog just! Blew me away! The writings, aesthetics, the headcanons— again, just, everything about your blog are beyond incredible and inspiring. Vanya is my second favourite character of the show ( first being Klaus, heheh ), and it makes me extremely happy to see someone is so so passionate of her! Your passion in her is utterly beautiful and seeing the dedication you would put in analyzing and researching to grasp her character further and make her more realistic and developed than the show could ever do it? Don’t even know how you’re not part of the U.mbrella A.cademy team because, seriously, everything you do with her would bring a bit of tears in my eyes when there is so much love and appreciation from you, and Vanya deserves it all of them. I am beyond excited to make more memories with you and your lovely Vanya, and see more content from you. Even your funny ooc posts would make my day as I love your sense of humour, I hope you know that your work will always be loved and appreciated. <3

🍓 @dcdpool​: Antonia, I’m actually? Really happy that you sent me a strawberry for me to compliment you! I was going to send you a compliment on anon when you reblogged that “go on anon and tell me what you think of me” post thingy, but by the time I finished my ask just as I reached the word limit, I was honestly sad that you closed the anon option, which is highly understandable. Though I am beyond grateful to be given a chance now to give you some love because, truly, you are one of the sweetest and talented people I’ve ever met, and I want you to know that very much! I love how you love your mutuals, I love how you love Wade, I love how much time and effort you put in your work and thoughts. Even if they are something small, the passion you have still makes them shine, and I love that as well. You nail Wade’s character in every points there is, and reading your writings would always take my breath away. I can really hear Wade’s voice in his dialogue and being able to sense every emotions he would have in your work? It’s incredible and I just don’t know how you could pull it off so amazingly well. You are an absolute delight in my life and I am forever beyond grateful to had find your blog. <3

🍓 @olivierperrier​: Ki, you will never know how much joy I would get in doing anything with you! From writing with you to interacting to even just sharing something, you have always been a great light to my world. I will always enjoy what we have together and always be looking forward to more between us. You and Olivier easily made a home in me and my muses’, and, just? Gosh, I fucking adore you and Olivier so much!?!? I’m always eager to see any more content with Olivier because everything that you do with him? Always, always, is there passion in them, and I can never get enough of them from you. Olivier is such a darling, I just want to hug him! ( Though not as much as Ofioúchos, of course! ) Your writings are so so incredible and inspiring. I had said this before, but, once more do I have to say, but you just know how to place every bits of details in your work, and it is amazing how you are able to tug my emotions and feel so much over our muses. Your work is poetic. Also, the fact that you would be determined to learn a bit about my muses to get their characterization right? I wouldn’t even mind if you did get it wrong in your opinion because you would just want to put the best effort in your work, and just? Gosh, you are so damn talented and wonderful. I am forever beyond thankful that we had even met and you know I’m always more than happy to do anything more with us together. <3  

🍓 @seekesotsibteadmist: Kyrian, you again... I absolutely adore how chill our friendship is? You definitely give me the vibes of being chill, and it’s very refreshing since it’s just so nice for me to be able to come up to anyone like you you without feeling anxious or anything. I always enjoy reading your messages to me as I always look forward to waiting and reading your responses, that applying to in character content too. Seeing you on my dash never fails to bring light in my day and night. You’re very kind, sweet, and friendly— you just know how to get my heart and soul. It still amazes me how long you have your muses. They are incredibly developed in every edges and corners and I will always get delighted seeing anything from you with them. It’s wonderful how much I can feel their emotions through your writings and I can easily have this urge to... wanting to hug them because they’re so endearing. You have this talent of bringing life into the characters, and if you plan to write a book, better let me know because I would even pay to just hear your magnificent thoughts. Never forget that you are truly out of this world. <3

[binaryfrission]

“I’m a doctor, if you can believe it,” Achilles laughs, his eyes crinkling into those familiar crow’s feet at the corners. He’s already older now than he was when they died the first time. “Quite the change from the battlefield.”

Achilles—Drew—whichever, he holds Patroclus close and unabashedly breathes him in. “You always did love books, didn’t you? I’d love to see your shop,” he says warmly into Patroclus’ ear.

binaryfrission·:

“Drew,” he laughs, tangling their fingers together and ramping down on the swell of emotion when he meets Olivier’s eyes. “Andrew, I guess. Andrew Greene. I—are you visiting? Where do you live, what do you do? How have you been?”

Drew holds him back at arm’s length, his free hand on his shoulder as he takes him in like a man starving. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, almost to himself.

Andrew. Drew. His name still starts with an “A”, though he has to say he prefers Achilles. Olivier now holds two lives in his head; he doesn’t think he could stand to be called anything but Patroclus from the man before him, yet that life is only there in flashes and pieces. The longer Achilles touches him, the longer their souls mingle in proximity it begins to filter back. His eyes, the same eyes, take in his figure as they used to those lazy mornings and it still brings a blush to his face after hundreds of years.

❝y-you still d-do me too many favors.❞ Achilles had always been the beautiful one. Still was as far as olivier Patroclus was concerned. ❝i-i-i run a bookstore…. what of you? who are you, m-my sun and stars?❞ he tucks himself back against Achilles, unwilling to be parted again and tactfully avoiding his life. It may be easier these days, but his origin family was just as brutal as they had been and he wished to speak of happier things right now.

[unnwin-a]

🤠 tell me bout those ocs I need to follow

@shawky​ is legit   !!!!   100% can see this character on the big screen ,  and Gates is such a sweetheart .   you can talk to her for the first time or the hundreth time and it’s just as warm and welcoming .   BUT back 2 Mr Seth Shawky  ;   i’ve actually been following Gates a long time from different blogs and it’s such a pleasure to see how the character has developed .   there’s something very real and grounded about Seth ,  which makes him very believable .   and that is definitely encapsulated in the blog aesthetic ,  the edits ,  the writing ,  so it feels like you’re on this great adventure with him .   10 / 10 would follow again 

@olivierperrier    /    p.    /    not accepting.