#junkowrites

[zombabejunkie]

Introduction Post

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊한᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ ♡ ♡

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷

Hello♡ I'm Junko, my selfships are,

꒰ঌ candygrave- junko x flins (genshin ♡ romantic)

꒰ঌ bulletwound- junko & boothill (hsr ♡ familial)

꒰ঌ butcher's knife- junko x sonju (tpn ♡ romantic)

꒰ঌ tragicomedy- junko x elliot (stardew ♡ romantic)

꒰ঌ sugargloom- junko x idia (twist ♡ romantic)

୨ৎ she/her ୨ৎ dinokin ୨ৎ tw for adult topics ୨ৎ artist/writer ୨ৎ

[zombabejunkie]

⏔⏔ Plum-tinted Lips I Desire to Kiss ⏔⏔

My lady has sugar plum-tinted lips and I love them so.

Every word that leaves her lips is a gift I cherish. Especially when it's my name that leaves her lips.

The words that leave her tongue never struggle to leave me utterly dazzled. Her soft tone and melodical giggles send my heels right over my head. I utterly adore her. My darling Junko.

The one thing that brings me anything but joy when it dances across those darling lips, is the request for a bouquet she uttered at Pierre's counter.

It was a winter's day, but even the leathered coat and scarf I wore could shield me from the coldness I felt within my heart.

My fingers trembled as she handed over the gold in exchange. And before I knew it, she had left. Left without knowing I had ever been there, and left me what felt irreparably shattered.

There was only a miniscule chance that the bouquet would make its way into my hands in the end. What was so likeable about me anyway? My flowery words likely felt like empty flattery to her and I was likely taken as pathetic rather than a romanceable item. We had only ever been friends, nothing more. No matter how I wished, that was likely how it'd stay.

I took a deep and shaky breath and made my way through the saloon's door with a creak- tapping the dirt off my shoes in a few taps of my feet.

Upon ordering my favorite, pomegranate wine that I saved for special occasions due to its pricy nature and crab cakes, I sat at my usual table.

It was splintered and Leah had carved her name on the bottom once in a drunken stupor, but I had many memories of it, call me a sentimental fool if you will, but that’s just the way I was. Tears built up in my eyes, glistening in the lamplight.

My hair billowed out in delicate curls akin to roses around the table where my head lay. I traced her name on the table as his shoulders slightly shook from my bout of crying.

After I'd eaten my fill of crab cakes and drunk a bottle's full, I had begun to take my leave (Gus wouldn't let me drink anything more). By the time I'd made it to the bridge on the path to the beach I'd finally realized there was another set of footsteps other than mine.

They were the clicks of heels. Her heels. My heart skipped a beat and I had a change in my judgement. Maybe, just maybe I thought.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop. She then said my name just the way I liked it- Soft and endearingly, though this time, it was what was said alongside it that I felt was the true gift.

"Oh Elliot, would you do me the honor of being my lover?"

She outstretched a bouquet of roses and darling red pomegranate blossoms wrapped in lacy pastel tissue paper and a pretty pink bow towards me. Yet again, he burst into tears. Though the ones that graced my pink-tinged cheeks this time were brought on by joy.

I grinned, dimples highly visible and took the lady I adore deeply into my arms. Twirling the hair that brushed her ear with my finger, joyfully proclaimed my agreements to her offer. I spoke of my adoration and absolute requitement I felt towards her.

I spinned her around in the sand, her dress billowing up around her as she twirled akin to a falling maple seed coated in bows and pearls and all things like that of a doll. Only now, she was my doll.

My lady has sugar plum-tinted lips and I love them so.

Every word that leaves her lips is a gift I cherish. Especially when the thing that leaves her lips is one asking for the title of my lover

--- End ---୨ৎ ------