❈ || @lapeirla

"Hey. Don't touch that."

"Are you going to cry?" (hi :3)

The rice simmers within the cast iron, the stove click'd on for a sense of wholesome food fit to sate snarling bellies, and Roland's dewy eyes blink rapidly: the onion fresh and delicate upon the cutting board.

"Gods save me, I am bereft from thine kindness," weeps Roland, snuffling and squinting; his hands steady, miraculously, chopping the onions into fine portions. He coughs out a funny cackle, bow'd over the counter.

@lapeirla // original

“I had to see you,” he calls all cheery, suggesting that he either doesn’t register the situation’s gravity, or that he thinks smiling up at her oh-so charmingly can fix it all. Fool-hardiness, a common flaw among the Lovestuck.

“Is it really so awful that I meet them?” Phillip chimes, aiming a pebble at the stone gargoyle behind her. It strikes! Squarely, and perfectly, right between the eyes. “I’m a wonder with the old folks. I promise you that, along with all of my heart.”

The human before her was foolhardy indeed and in ways he’s yet to fully comprehend. She spends a full breath looking towards her door before crouching down to look between the gaps of her balcony’s railing. 

Her getaway bag is forgotten for the time being, as her priority shifts to saving her daytime companion. “Terribly awful. I fear you’d get along so well you might be forced to stick around for eternity.”

She could not wish such a life for someone so full of life as him. He shone brightest in the sun after all, it had been what attracted her attention to him at the start. “You’ve seen me now. You should go home.”

🔥

i think having 20 AUs and random verses that are a completely different genre than your character’s main verse is so hot and fun and if anyone tells you otherwise they’re objectively wrong 

🔥

(  unpopular opinions  /  accepting !!  )

i am so tired of the argument that aging up a character automatically means you are sexualising them. i already went on a tangent about this months ago, so i won’t elaborate too much, but man. characters, like real people, age and i think it’s silly that y’all expect characters to stay exactly the same without any growth or development. 

@lapeirla​ + sc!

The ocean is a calming sound for the Musketeer as he walks along the beach. Normally he does not patrol a town that isn’t Paris but needs must. There has been talk of strange sights and hysteria that has called the Musketeers to the town in search of answers. The King doesn’t like any talk of the supernatural or the mythical and so they need to find the true cause of the talk. Or, make sure that they can at least control what the people are saying.

@lapeirla continued from here

Adora has never wanted to jump from a carriage more in her life. She almost did too- had it not been for the guards meant to watch over her. Tears burn her eyes at the young woman’s taunt, her lip trembling pitifully- even for a little girl. 

“Well someone has to do something,” Why isn’t her father stopping this? Didn’t he know that poor man would- that he’d be- “No wait! Stop!” Before she’s even aware of it, she’s halfway out the window, a strong pair of arms being the only things keeping her from running up there. A whimper, then the sobbing starts, for what else can she do? The child has never encountered such cruelties before today. Her grandparents shielded her from anything that may upset one so frail, Her parents had only ever shown her love and light. Adora hits, she kicks and screams, all while tears of grief for the man stream down rosy cheeks. Here, a child always in danger of dying, experiencing loss for the first time. 

@lapeirla replied to your post “@asundrop​ replied to your post “give me attention...

Prettyfolk deserve to pay for their crimes :( that's why I'm sending all this hate mail from my prison cell :(

prison you say? huh. they finally managed put you where you belong.

"How long have you been having nightmares like this?"

"Since the Dawn of human consciousness, my precious," murmurs Roland, one arm thrown over his face in this gallant, dramatic poise atop her pink-shelled, pink-laced fainting couch. Bird song trills outside her opened balcony, and art Roland's feet cleaned properly, sans their covered speckles of grass blades and fond dirt.

A thousand sleepless nights hang at the bottom of Roland's closed eyes, and he groans long and low his scrutiny of that pearlescent Beauty of Sleep. "Think naught too long of the consequences, my dear; they will pass."

Nightmares & Sleeping memes .

@lapeirla​​ . ❝ How is it you see such a partner in them and such a villain in me? ❞ (for the OG Maxima :>) . black sails s01 & s02 . accepting

   “Partner?” it would have been a word worthy of a snort if the whole sentiment of the sentence wasn’t quite so surprising. Maxima glances from her papers to the woman that sat by the chair on the other side of the desk, watching the door fully close after the men had exited her office. 

My jealousy doesn’t look good in anyone’s faces and truthfully, just because one could not see one’s punishment it hardly meant that it was not dolled out when necessary. There is a grin on Maxima’s lips as her brows quirk and she continues writing “They respect me, dearest.” and even that could be questioned. They respected her as long as she kept her end of the bargain and that too was a fine line to walk. Especially when surrounded by those that would, at every single turn, attempt to make a fool out of her.

The quill is placed back on the ink pot, Maxima rises from her seat, taking the cigarette with her. The smoke draws a thin grey line in the sickly cherry-scent that surrounded the air in the room that they were in “And since I pay for their meals and livelihood, they have no other choice but to.” 

Not that was a deterrent for men such as these. Many had tried to take the money and more and those had found themselves a shallow grave. A more useful existence enriching the soil that grew her roses than walking around consuming the same air that she did. She took no pleasure in such things, but she did not regret them either.

   “You do not like the fact that I push back against your opinions and demands.” green eyes fall on Adella, cigarette brought to her lips as her fingers open the richly carved wooden cabinet with deep set drawers. Gold leaf. A single and unique piece, not unlike the rest in that room “And I could hide them, keep myself silent. But I do not see a reason not to.” 

From within long nails peruse through many different parchments, organized and divided into sections. The sound of parchment brushing against the wood is the only thing that is heard beyond the sound of her heels against worn and old wood. 

   “You should take that as a compliment.” long white skirts whisper as the woman with long waves of light brown hair returns to her large chair. The papers dumped unceremoniously on the desk “The fact that I take the time and energy to voice my disapproval is a rare thing these days.” 

It is a sign that there is space for discussion and dialogue. Something that Maxima often didn’t feel the need to have. Truth be told, even with Adella there was no reason beyond her own enjoyment. From the sheer strength of the other’s stubbornness, Maxima doubted she’d ever be able to change her mind on any topics. This didn’t mean, however, that she would simply allow the other to walk all over her (regardless of true intentions). 

Maxima smiles openly, her hand returning to the quill “I do not see you as a villain.“

@lapeirla​ // original

There’s a pause as long as the miles that stretch from here to Corona Kingdom, but only because Adella is working reaaaally, desperately hard for the perfect answer. When his heavy brow raises, her own furrows, and that ghostly complexion of hers does her no service when it hides not one bit of the blush that’s just burning her cheeks. Bastion is the most beautiful thing ever made in the human world by far, in a way she has no words for. In a way that even fatigue makes him all the more handsome. Somehow. Stupidly. Whatever.

“Your eyes are failing you, but not because you’re tired.” She tuts, stretching tall and leaning over him, inspecting his no-doubt terrible condition through little tugs at his brows, eyelids, and tiny pinches of his cheek. “Exactly because you never say I’m pretty enough. And also because you turn eight hundred years old tomorrow.”

“And may I just say, good sir, you don’t look a day over three hundred.”

Phillip had idly been massaging Rapunzel’s shoulders all this time. He leans down to her ear and pares his voice down to the merest whisper. “If what he’s saying is true, by the way, I might have to answer for my crimes there with a short walk to the chopping block. I did lie when I told Magdalena that I enjoyed her fig tarts, but the woman looked so delighted that I…”

Such gentle touches gave the weary hard-traveled man little comfort. It should, after all, since he loved her so and he said as much. Yet it was more stimulation than he could take in one sitting so as the flush of his cheeks lessened he took her hands and placed them at his knees. He makes a mental note at the tint of life pooling at the apples of Adella’s cheeks but doesn’t tease her beyond the slight raise of one brow and the small tilt of his head.

“If I say it more than once a day your head’ll get too big an’you won’t be as pretty. Omission of truth for the sake of the greater good is a necessary evil. Wouldn’t want your head to pop off and fly away.”

In all of this Rapunzel is having a difficult time focusing on either conversation but she focuses just long enough to promise Phillip she’ll talk to her father about his indiscretions against Magdalena’s trust. “It’s not worth starting a war over fig tarts.”

@lapeirla​   liked .

❝ i do   SO   love the sea.   and am grateful that gentle waves do not give me sickness upon boats. ❞   horses were a fun way of travel,   truly.   but there was no comparison to walking out on the deck at night and gazing up at the stars above while sea salt gently sprays from waves crashing into hull.    ❝ if it  pains  you to speak of it,   i shall change the subject. ❞   how insensitive of her  to bring up a place that adella could never truly return to unless perhaps on a boat.   it was not nearly the same.       

@lapeirla​​ sent: “Glowing runes. What can go wrong?” ; Adventurer/Explorers Sentence Starters

  Without blinking, Ivakir could write a whole list of what the glowing runes meant. Most of the time, this meant thinking about whether you left a will and who will feed your cat when you are gone, and then realize that it is too late to do anything about it and face your death. Very rarely, this meant that you were the chosen one and you must eat a dragon soul to defeat the evil forces.

  Ivakir put her hand on the runes. There was a small chance that she would be the chosen one, and a big one that she would be burn. But this didn't happen either - Ivakir stood still and healthy with her hand pressed to the wall. Then she ran her finger along the runes, looked at it, and stuck it in her mouth.

“Hmm, and I thought it was some kind of glowing bacteria,” she said with some disappointment.

smacks that lil cheek w a kiss in Sephora Lipstories shade #28 (popsicle lips babey)

She kisses him, brash and bold and teasing, and Cường allows it because he’s Cường, their darling, dreamy boy—or as she might think him, at the very least. Does she? He turns his head. Adella’s perfume hangs light in the space they keep, pleasant and charmingly subtle both, and he stares, gaze lingering on lips—vibrant, painted like she’s sucked on cherries. “Adella,” he starts. Adella. “It’s good on you. Pretty. Take it back. I’m not Adella.” And there: he cants his head again as though she can lean in, purse her lips and kiss it back. Darling man. Haven’t you heard? No refunds!

@lapeirla​​

꧁ ❈.*⊱Dry leaves crushed under the sole of a white boot were hardly a reason to pause but he does just so. He tilts his head down to the hem of his many robes and then upwards towards the clouds. Xiao Bai had wanted to play a game of hide and seek but had become too eager to best him. She’d gone farther than expected but that in itself was to be expected. How many times has she lost now? Three-hundred games? Four-hundred? Of course she would bends the winds to her favor. Kissing his teeth he continues on his stroll.

His heart pulls him towards the east and so his direction changes sharply and continues to crush the changing seasons underneath him. He was being followed too, of that he could be certain, but whatever local deity’s attention he had caught had such weak magic you could hardly call it magic at all.

“I’m looking for a girl; a phoenix flower mark on her brow.” Just the slightest tilt of the head was all the indication he gave that he was speaking directly to it. “If you are to follow you might as well make yourself useful.” baby.

How long has Adella been in that potion shop for for? Hours? Months? A year? The point is, Ravi's been waiting outside it waaay longer than he had any more patience for. JUST when he's about to leave Adella steps out the door. She tosses a bottle into his arms for him to catch, chiming right as the shop's bell tinkles. "Here. Drink this. It's a love potion to make you finally get over the fact that you can't admit you like me" :) (nope. it's literally just a bottle of syrup)

Ravi was 1000000000% convinced she was making him wait just to annoy him. Just like any other thing she did; everything was clearly in spite of him and he knew that she took it as a form of entertainment — because why else would she do anything that she did other than her own benefit? With sound of the shop door’s bells and every time someone other than Adella left the shop, he was ready to take off since they wasted enough time there. The fact that he was even still waiting for her to leave the dang shop was enough evidence that he was clearly the nicer one out of the two of them.

When she finally left, he nearly jumped but at least his quick reflexes didn’t fail him as he managed to catch the bottle flung at his face. Without a skip of a beat, he rose it up to his face to check the label to see if it matched whatever she was spouting out now.

“It says it was made in Canada,” he said flatly. “I wasn’t aware that was the land of the romantics.” He tucked it away into his bag anyway. “I was going to throw it back at you, but clearly you already have way too much love for yourself to think that you’d even think that of me.” At least he could top some pancakes with this stuff later.