おすすめツイート
❝ one by one he slew his fears, and then planted a flower garden over their graves. ❞ 【 bard. sandpiper. fae.】 ↳ mostly show based portrayal for the Witcher verse. ↳ au. fae in disguise. still a bard. ↳ fae of the flowers. ↳ mature content.
this, i say. this and this. the way his hair looked in summer sun. his face when he ran. his eyes, solemn as an owl at lessons. this and this and this. so many moments of happiness, crowding forward.
i love you. i love you. i love you. i'll write it in waves. in skies. in my heart. you'll never see, but you will know. i'll be all the poets, i'll kill them all and take each one's place in turn, and every time love's written in all the strands it will be to you.
' you want me ? ' ' that's what i'm saying. ' ' how— but— what did i do ? ' ' i don't know, i just think that we'd be a good us. ' ' we'd be a wonderful us. '
“I will want you with every single ounce of my being during every single second of every single day for the rest of our lives. No amount of scars will stop me from loving you, from worshiping you with every moment we have together. You are it for me.”
“Do you know that I never loved anything before I loved you? I didn’t know I had a heart at all, until you made it beat. Now that heart belongs to you, and you belong to me, me and nobody else.”
“When you’re not around, even for a little while, I feel like I have to go find you. I just feel this pull to be near you. I want to know what you’re thinking, and how you feel. I feel like I’ve been lost all my life until now—and somehow with you I’m found.”
“There’s no one who loves you more than I do. I will argue that point until I die, vehemently and with great pride. You’re the reason my heart beats, and even if I don’t deserve you, I’ll go to my grave doing everything I can to be the one you deserve.”
“I may not tell you I love you every minute of every day, but I try to show you. Because true love has to be felt not heard. And our love? It’s my favorite feeling.”
[ @OfFidemEtFatum ]
i want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. i want you to know that i have kept sacred everything that you had entrusted in me, and i always will.
i never seem to run out of tenderness for you and because i need to feel you near. excuse the bad writing and excuse the emotional overflow. what i mean to say, perhaps, is that, in a way, i am never empty of you; not for a moment, and instant, a single second.
“Someday, when we’re old and gray, I’m going to look at you lying in bed beside me, and I’m going to look into your eyes and know that it’s only ever been you. And that is going to be the great joy of my life.”
how he loves you, darling. how, like always, he invents monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night.
i want our summers to always be like this— a kitchen wrecked with love, a table overflowing with baked goods warming the already warm air. after all the pots are stacked, the goodies cooled, and all the counters wiped clean— let us never be rescued from this mess.
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