i just need a flower to complete the look

I Just Want to Love You in My Own Language

status: completed

chapters: 1/1

rating: teen and up audiences

summary: "In the center of it all, on her desk, is a gorgeous glass vase full of over two dozen lavender roses. “Pretty,” she murmurs as she comes around to look at them. In the middle of the light purple flowers is a small card, thank you written in elegant script over the surface.

There’s no name, but there doesn’t need to be.“

A love story, told with flowers.

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I SAW THIS JUST NOW!!!!!!!!!!

It’s real!!!!

It happened!!!!!

We need the link to this!!!!!

THEY KISSED!!!!!!

Look at those two!!!

And the guys face! 😆😂😆😂😆😂😁😂

My life is complete!!!

@thebronyphilospher @theboywhoflydragons @ktrk5 @kingoffantasy516 @darktooth111 @baymaxmochi @flowers-and-crossbows @fanboyofallthingsfandom @justlookatthosesausages @javs2727 @jschnabl @agentexeider @thephantombeyond

@finalpetal liked for a lyric starter
the rose by bette midler

Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed..

Hélène knew how it was to feel as if your soul was being torn to shreds by someone who was supposed to love instead of inflicting harm. And she understood all too well how terribly tempting it was to just give up on love completely and she wouldn’t deny that it hadn’t crossed her mind once. But she knew what someone without love looked like and she had vowed to never turn into the sort of person her husband had been. It would mean that he had won.

Giving the young woman a smile as she turned around to face her properly. They were all so very fortunate to have someone like her come around and that she stayed despite Adam’s…dramatic tendencies back then.

“I say love, it is a flower. It needs to be nurtured and handled with care. And to love is sometimes to let go. It seems my son was able to remember that in the end.”

anonymous asked:

"Zephon? Are you in here?" Rosanna knocked on the door, holding her first aid kit. After an uneasy brief silence, she opened the door.

It was hard to say if he hadn’t heard her, or if he just flat-out couldn’t respond to her. Doubled over on the young Sarafan’s own belongings he lay, face pale and screwed up in pain, completely out of breath.

“Rosy,” he groaned. “Coal. I need…”

From a distance, this looked rather silly. He looked less like he was sick, and more like he was just a wilting human flower, but that would all soon change if something was not done before then.

Charcoal.”