Bonjour, je suis la République française, et je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy. Bienvenue sur mon blog.
Please, make yourself at home !
( Part of tumblrtalia. )
In which Ivan accidentally sends Arthur a text of himself wanking.
Billet reblogué depuis Hoist The Colours High avec 11 notes
Sniffling quietly, he buries the blocked nose into the man’s scruffy hair and inhales as much of his scent as possible. A touch different, a bit mustier, but still Arthur. As Romano shakes his head and wanders off, leaving them to it, Francis smiles shakily, having a bit of trouble that Arthur’s here, he’s here right now and in his arms. Whoa.
Lifting him up bridal-style and sitting down with him across his lap, Francis cups his partner’s cheek, lifting his face up to get a good look at it. He tries to speak but what to say first? ‘I missed you’ isn’t strong enough, neither is ‘I love you’.
“I am so glad you’re here.” Francis settles with that, thinking it’s enough, that it encompasses everything he could want to say, but mutters a soft “I love you I love you I love you” into his sensitive ear as well.
As his face is held, he reaches up to place his hand on top of the other’s, just taking in the so-very-welcome sight of his face. The Frenchman’s crying almost sets him off too, but he manages to keep it together, so that his eyes shine with tears, but none fall. He doesn’t say anything, afraid that if he speaks his voice will break and he’ll start to sob, instead just embraces Francis tightly again and closes his eyes. He really hopes Francis won’t notice how much weight he’s lost, how much lighter and skinnier and bonier he is. Maybe he’ll just be too happy to see him to realise right now.
He loosens his hold and leans back a little to look at Francis again, brushing the hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear. He looked…tired, but he was still Francis, his Francis, the man he’d admitted to loving before he left three months ago. He’s smiling, probably the first genuine smile in a long, long time. He moves the hand he’d used to push his hair aside to hold the back of the man’s head and tilt it at the perfect angle to lean forwards and kiss him. The first time in far too long, he thinks, curling his arm around Francis’ neck.
Francis joyously kissed back and embraced him tighter, now unable to stop himself from smiling. His hands felt out Arthur’s back and in turn felt how fragile he was, but that was almost to be expected. He’d have to ask him about that later; now was not the time to ask what the hell he’d done to ‘sort’ himself, if that was even the right word. All of the questions he’d thought up were being added to a mental list for later.
Source : froncobonerboy
Billet reblogué depuis Hoist The Colours High avec 11 notes
[Oh there he is. Getting up from the chair he is sitting in, he walks towards the door and opens it, a plate still in his hand and the fork in between his lips.]
‘Sup.
[Putting the fork away to properly speak, he gestures with a movement of his head to the couch, grinning.]
Go wake your sleeping beauty up with a kiss. But be careful, because he moves.
Quite a lot.
Torn between laughing and sobbing, he lets out an ungodly wail which ends up as a good compromise between the two. He also scoops Arthur up and hugs him tightly and oh god he’s crying again.
It wasn’t the noises that woke him, the sleep he was in so deep, but in fact being wrenched off of his rather comfortable makeshift bed into a tight squeeze of a hug. And even then, he’s slow to become conscious. He’s still groggy when he registers that someone is embracing him, and his hair is getting wet, and this person really smells quite nice. He lets out a sort of murmuring wake-up sound and blearily opens his eyes to blackness, as his face has been shoved into Francis’ chest - he reaches up to hold the other’s shoulder and lift himself enough to be able to see.
He blinks.
“…Fran…?”
He stares for a moment, then arranges his legs so he can comfortably stand and hug the man back just as tightly as he’s being held.
Sniffling quietly, he buries the blocked nose into the man’s scruffy hair and inhales as much of his scent as possible. A touch different, a bit mustier, but still Arthur. As Romano shakes his head and wanders off, leaving them to it, Francis smiles shakily, having a bit of trouble that Arthur’s here, he’s here right now and in his arms. Whoa.
Lifting him up bridal-style and sitting down with him across his lap, Francis cups his partner’s cheek, lifting his face up to get a good look at it. He tries to speak but what to say first? ‘I missed you’ isn’t strong enough, neither is ‘I love you’.
“I am so glad you’re here.” Francis settles with that, thinking it’s enough, that it encompasses everything he could want to say, but mutters a soft “I love you I love you I love you” into his sensitive ear as well.
Source : froncobonerboy
Billet reblogué depuis RossoPomodoro avec 11 notes
The next thing Francis knows, he’s standing outside the Italian’s house, shaking like a chihuahua. A quivering hand reaches up to knock on the door, but doesn’t quite make the connection. The door waits patiently while he sniffs and releases a stream of tears down his cheeks.
[Romano is just waiting, sitting on his couch. Oh wait, he is not. No, he is sitting on a chair, because the couch is currently unavailable. You see, there’s a British man sleeping in there.
He waits, and of course, he eat, glancing at his guest to make sure he doesn’t roll on the floor. Again.]
Eventually he decides to slump against the door, the noise his head making loud enough to count as a knock. Moving away before the door opens and he falls into the house, he tries to gather his strength together, teeth gnawing on lip.
[Oh there he is. Getting up from the chair he is sitting in, he walks towards the door and opens it, a plate still in his hand and the fork in between his lips.]
‘Sup.
[Putting the fork away to properly speak, he gestures with a movement of his head to the couch, grinning.]
Go wake your sleeping beauty up with a kiss. But be careful, because he moves.
Quite a lot.
Torn between laughing and sobbing, he lets out an ungodly wail which ends up as a good compromise between the two. He also scoops Arthur up and hugs him tightly and oh god he’s crying again.
Source : froncobonerboy
Photo reblogué depuis Boggle! avec 8199 notes
Please try not to beat yourself up today! You don’t have to be so hard on yourself!
Source : bogglelovesyou
Billet reblogué depuis RossoPomodoro avec 11 notes
The next thing Francis knows, he’s standing outside the Italian’s house, shaking like a chihuahua. A quivering hand reaches up to knock on the door, but doesn’t quite make the connection. The door waits patiently while he sniffs and releases a stream of tears down his cheeks.
[Romano is just waiting, sitting on his couch. Oh wait, he is not. No, he is sitting on a chair, because the couch is currently unavailable. You see, there’s a British man sleeping in there.
He waits, and of course, he eat, glancing at his guest to make sure he doesn’t roll on the floor. Again.]
Eventually he decides to slump against the door, the noise his head making loud enough to count as a knock. Moving away before the door opens and he falls into the house, he tries to gather his strength together, teeth gnawing on lip.
Source : froncobonerboy
pomodororossosangue a demandé: Well h-- [okay conversation over, whatever, it's not like you asked me a million questions and then decided to cut the conversation RUDE] -- oooookay I guess I'll be waiting.
Billet avec 11 notes
Chapter 7: The Reunion
The next thing Francis knows, he’s standing outside the Italian’s house, shaking like a chihuahua. A quivering hand reaches up to knock on the door, but doesn’t quite make the connection. The door waits patiently while he sniffs and releases a stream of tears down his cheeks.
Question avec 2 notes
pomodororossosangue a demandé: WHAT THE FUCK [He quickly moves the phone away from his ear when the other starts screaming.] Yeah well, surprise surprise, Arthur is sleeping on my couch. I wanted to call you sooner but I had to take care of him, he slept a lot and he was a real mess. Want to come over and have a tearful reunion? [Laughs again.]
Is already crying down the phone.
“Y-yes please, I mean is he okay? Does he even want to see me? Is he intact? When did he get there? Has he eaten? How much scrawnier is he? Is he still as angry as before?”
Sniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiff.
“I will be right over!”
Click.
Question avec 1 note
pomodororossosangue a demandé: If Fifi was your dog and he died years ago, why do you even think he is the one that is currently snoring on my couch? You are not making sense. Try and THINK about it, come ON.
“Because I can’t think of anyone who fits that description aside from—”
…
Full blast screaming down the phone.
kirthurarkland replied to your post: kirthurarkland liked your post …
(( oui o3o ))
(( niiiiice ;_; ))
Question avec 2 notes
pomodororossosangue a demandé: What, is that some sort of pet name you guys use to call each other when you are together? So he is Fifi and you are what, Pepe? That's really gay, Francis. I didn't want to know that.
“Quoi.
Romano, what are you talking about? Fifi was my dog, and it’s very rude to use him against me!”
Billet avec 1 note
kirthurarkland liked your post
pomodororossosangue liked your post
(( are you guys just sitting in the same room on different computers/laptops ))
Question avec 2 notes
pomodororossosangue a demandé: I'm pretty sure it's something you want back. Unless of course you prefer I keep him on the couch forever. But I will have to clean the couch up at some point, because you know, he kind of drools in his sleep. Also he snores, I don't envy you. [He lets out a small laugh, waiting for Francis' reaction.]
…
“But Fifi died years ago.”
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