Dreaming about Armitage | Armitage en rêves

It’s been awhile since I’ve dreamed about him. The last time it occurred was a few days before I broke up with the Photographer, aka my ex.

I never really paid much attention to the dreams in which Mr A appeared, because first I barely dreamed about him and second those dreams were way too inconsistents to be shared here, with the exception of the kiss. And then there was the one I made ​​last September.

I’m sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of a room without furniture. It’s uncomfortable. I try to move my hands but they’re tied behind my back. Slowly but surely, panic creeps into me.

"You’re awake"

A male voice, deep and rich. I recognize him immediately. I look up and hardly make him out in a corner of the room. Richard is leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, half bent. He doesn’t look at me. He’s wearing a black T-shirt, a black leather jacket, denim and leather b oots. An outfit in which I often picture him in my fantaisies. But something i soff. It feels wrong. I have this visceral sensation, this alarm … My discomfort keeps growing.

I can’t remember exactly what he says then to me, but the main idea is : he knows I want to end our relationship, and he can’t accept it, he won’t accept it. There’s an underlying threat in his words.  I try to convince him he’s wrong, that he’s imagining things, while trying to undo my bonds, but in both cases my efforts are in vain. And I think I should have broke up with him sooner, if only I’d had the courage to make this decision, I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be afraid. I would be safe.

That’s when I notice we’re not alone in the room. There’s another man. Dressed in a dark suit, he looks like a mortician. With his huge hands and his sinister-looking, he reminds me of a henchman. What he is, without a doubt. I’m paralyzed.

Noticing my reaction, Richard smiles, amused. He explains in a few words, with a detached tone, that he’s hired this man to hurt me. I can’t believe him. Paralyzed by the fear that overwhelms me, I’m unable to speak, my lips refusing to move. He stands up and leaves the room, completely indifferent to my fate, leaving me alone with this henchman.

And I wake up.

As I’ ve explained in the previous dream that I shared with you, I have very strong physical reactions to my nocturnal wanderings, even once I’m awake. And this was also the case for this dream -or should I say nightmare . I have long felt this anguish, this dull terror, even while viewing pictures and videos of Mr A ! ^^ But this dream did me good. Two days later I broke up with the Photographer. Richard was only the messenger of my anxiety and not the cause, making me realize how much I was trapped in this relationship I didn’t wanted anymore.

Did I ever tell you that when I dream or fantazize about him he’s speaking in english (so am I) ? For non native english speakers, what about you ? Is he speaking in your native language or good old english ? :)

 

 

Cela fait un moment que je n’avais pas rêvé de lui. La dernière fois que c’était arrivé, c’était seulement quelques jours avant de rompre avec le Photographe, autrement dit mon ex. 

Je n’avais jamais vraiment prêté beaucoup d’attention aux rêves dans lesquels Mr A s’invitait, déjà parce que j’ai peu rêvé de lui et parce que c’était des rêves foutraques et décousus, à l’exception du baiser. Et puis il y a eu ce rêve, fait en septembre dernier.

Je suis assise sur chaise en bois, au milieu d’une pièce dépourvue de meubles. C’est inconfortable. J’essaye de bouger mes mains sont attachées dans mon dos. Lentement mais sûrement, la panique s’insinue en moi.

" Tu es réveillée"

Une voix masculine, grave et profonde. Je la reconnais immédiatement. Je lève les yeux et le discerne difficilement dans un coin de la pièce. Il est est adossé contre le mur, les mains dans les poches, à moitié voûté. Il ne me regarde pas. Il porte un t-shirt noir, une veste en cuir noire, un jean brut et des boots. L’un des ensemble dans lequel je l’imagine le plus souvent. Quelque chose cloche. J’ai cette sensation viscérale, cette sonnette d’alarme… Mon malaise s’amplifie.

Ce qu’il me dit ensuite est assez confus mais j’en retiens l’idée principale : il sait que je veux mettre un terme à notre relation, et il ne peut pas l’accepter. Je tente de le convaincre qu’il se trompe, qu’il se fait des idées, tout en essayant de défaire mes liens, mais dans les deux cas mes efforts sont vains. Je me dis que j’aurais dû le quitter plus tôt, que si j’avais eu le courage de prendre cette décision, je ne serais pas là, je n’aurais pas peur. Je serais en sécurité.

C’est alors que je remarque que nous ne somme pas seuls dans la pièce. Un autre homme est présent. Vêtu d’un costume sombre, on dirait un croque-mort  Avec ces mains immenses et sa mine patibulaire, il me fait penser à une homme de main d’une mafia quelconque. Ce qu’il est, sans aucun doute. Je suis tétanisée.

Voyant ma réaction, Richard sourit, amusé. Il m’explique en quelques mots, d’un ton détaché, qu’il a engagé cet homme pour me faire du mal. Je n’arrive pas à le croire. Paralysée par la peur qui m’envahie, je suis incapable, de parler, mes lèvres refusant de bouger. Il se redresse et quitte la pièce, complètement indifférent à mon sort, me laissant seule avec cet homme.

Et  je me réveille.

Comme je l’avais expliqué dans le précédent rêve que j’avais partagé avec vous, je garde des sensations très physiques de mes divagations nocturnes, même une fois réveillée. Et cela a été le cas également pour celui-ci. J’ai longtemps ressenti cette angoisse, cette terreur sourde, et ce même en regardant des photos et des vidéos de Mr A, alors que qu’il n’y est pour rien ! ^^ Mais ce rêve m’a fait du bien. Deux jours plus tard je me séparais du photographe. Richard n’était que le messager de mon angoisse et non la cause, me faisant réaliser à quel point j’étais piégée dans cette relation  que je ne désirais plus. 

Est-ce que je vous ai déjà précisé que lorsque je rêve ou fantasme à propos de Richard, c’est en anglais ? Du coup je suis curieuse, qu’en est-il de vous, les non anglophones ? Est-ce qu’il parle dans votre langue natale ou bien en bon vieil anglais ? :D 

Fault and Blog Anniversary

En français sous "Lire la suite" :)

 

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"Happy Anniversary!"

Wait …. what?? It’s already been a year ? Looks like it has.

But has it really been a year when one has spent almost half that time literally disconnected from the RArmy? I like to think quality over quantity, and I hope that you, dear readers who have followed me during this year, have  enjoyed my dashed contributions.

You may have notice a small change on the blog too …. yes, the header! Bye bye Lucas and hello Richard !

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Which  brings me to the topic I’d like to discuss in this post. Or more precisely the picture I so wanted to write about.

This photoshoot published in "Fault" magazine  is already old news for everyone. But for me, trying to catch up with everything and everyone, I have a fantastic amount of information to dissect. And in this case, enjoy. I think I first saw this picture on Me+Richard Armitage. And I’m looking at it while writing these words, which doesn’t really help me to keep my train of thoughts :-).

I absolutely love this photoshoot. This is probably my favorite of all post Hobbit ones. And yet I do not like the pictures – except one. Why? Simply because of the pictures post-processing. This is an aesthetic choice, yes, but it doesn’t correspond at all to what I, as a person, appreciate. Too much editing and too many effects have been applied on these pictures, which mostly ruined them and prevents me from enjoying them. A pity.

A perfect exemple of my issues with Fault's photoshoot

A perfect example of my issues with Fault’s photoshoot

This one for example. There are all the elements needed to make it one of my favorites : profile porn, nose, jaw line, neck, the delicacy of his ear, his hand, his pensive air accentuated by a slight shrug of brow wrinkling his forehead and, of course, sexy stubbles. I could love this image, I should love it. But I don’t. Why ? Because of massive edits distorting it. What a shame.

Ultimately, what I love about this photoshoot aren’t the pictures but rather the short video showing the making of it. I love the photographer’s bias. I like that it’s a fashion shooting, thoughtful and prepared, even if it’s rather casual. I love the relevant choices made ​​ by the stylist, these outfits reflecting a casual but chic style in which I imagine Richard perfectly. It’s fashion, it’s sharp and simple, with quality materials and good cuts.

When I look at this video, I see the man that I admire. I see his strength, concentration, professionalism, and of course beauty. I don’t see Richard, but Richard Armitage, public persona, and for once it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t matter if he’s playing a role or if he’s not necessarily comfortable with posing, if it’s not "him." Because watching the actor being a fashion animal isn’t only easy on the eye ;-).

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I can’t forget how I felt the first time I saw this picture. Like a punch in the stomach, cutting my breath. The strength and power that emanate from him is incredible. It gives me a sense of stability, he reassures me even if he gaves me the impression to judge me. I see him as the man who, seeing me stumble would not help me to get up because it’s for me to learn on my own, but that would always be there to support me, a pillar in his way. Tough love, I’d say, one that can make you grow up. If my situation was different, would I have reacted in the same way ? I don’ know. But what I see, what I feel is the sensation of being pushed forward. Richard is a countless number of things for his fans : he stimulates our creativity, he’s a distraction and an escape, he helps some of us to get up in the morning, he makes us want to go further and to surpass ourselves. And more than anything, he makes us dream.

Thank you Richard Armitage for making me dream (for a year and more ^^)

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"I believe I’ve seen hell, and it’s white, it’s snow white."

 A new computer came into my life. And it’s far from being the only change I’ve been experiencing. During the last 5 months, I broke up with the man who shared my life for 3 years and I moved into an apartment much smaller, in which I’m trying to learn to live alone after having lived with someone for so long. I lost not only my companion but mostly a very good friend.

I also reconnected with the first man to whom I had the innocence of saying "I love you", almost 10 years from now. I do not believe in the concept of soul mate. I do not believe that there is on this small stone that is our planet a single person for me. I do not think a relationship can last a lifetime. I’m not romantic. I’m way too pragmatic and practical to let me go to this kind of thinking. And yet here I am, caught in the strangest relationship I’ve ever experienced with this man I’ve met when I was barely 15.  

With all these "distractions", it suddenly seems more consistent than I miss the excitement of the last few months and that Richard went into the background.  
But here I am, sitting at my desk in front of my screen at this late hour, writing. I needed to write. To talk about it, about Mister A. His voice, how I feel when I see him, when I hear him. I’m always struck by his ability to leave me speechless. To turn my head upside down, to hit me in my stomach, in my heart, whenever I hear the sound of his voice. It’s not about his pretty face and his yummy peaches. At least not "only" for that. But why this sudden urge? This craving? By transferring my documents on my new computer, I rediscovered audio files (audiobooks, Cbeebies stories and excerpts from interviews) from my "Armitage" file. And what a slap. Again and again. This physical reaction so visceral, goosebumps on my arms, node belly, excitement, as if it was the first time. Only one other person makes me feel that way, and I realize now how much these two people are alike. Without even thinking, I grabbed the DVD of North and South and launched the first episode. I wanted more, I needed the comfort that could bring me Richard Armitage as my personal fantasy.  

The integrity of this blog has been compromised, just like my tumblr’s since a person close to me has had access to these platforms. It’s also one of the reasons for my silence. I’ve always spoken freely here and expressed my ideas without filters. I find it difficult, however, to act as if nothing had happened. But I don’t want to be ashamed of what I am, of what I like, of what I think. I’m not ashamed to be part of this army, in my way. So I’ll try.  

I still need some softwares to recover before I show you some beautiful creations of my own and my late reactions on photoshoots who made me swoon :) I have a voice and I’m gonna use it.  

Good night Armitage Army.

Un nouvel ordinateur est entré dans ma vie. Et il est loin d’être le seul changement que ma vie ait connu. Au cours de ces 5 derniers mois, j’ai rompu avec l’homme qui partageait ma vie depuis 3 ans et j’ai déménagé dans un appartement beaucoup plus petit dans lequel j’essaye d’apprendre à vivre seule après avoir vécu en couple si longtemps. J’ai perdu mon conjoint mais j’ai surtout perdu un très bon ami.  

J’ai également renoué contact avec le premier homme à qui j’ai eu l’innocence de dire "je t’aime", ce il y a près de 10 ans maintenant. Je ne crois pas au concept d’âme soeur. Je ne crois pas qu’il y ait sur ce petit caillou qui nous sert de planète une seule et unique personne faite pour moi. Je ne crois pas qu’une relation amoureuse puisse durer une vie entière. Je ne suis pas fleur bleue. Je ne suis pas romantique. Je suis trop pragmatique pour me laisser aller à ce genre d’idée. Et pourtant me voilà embarquée dans la relation la plus étrange que j’ai connu avec cet homme que je fréquente en pointillé depuis 10 ans.  

Avec toutes ces "distractions", il semble soudain plus cohérent que je rate l’excitation de ces derniers mois, que Richard passe en arrière-plan.  

Mais me voici, assise à mon bureau, devant mon écran à cette heure tardive, à écrire.J’avais besoin d’écrire. De parler de lui, de Mister A. De sa voix, de ce que je ressens quand je le vois, quand je l’entend. Je suis toujours frappée par sa capacité à me laisser bouche bée. A me retourner la tête, le coeur, le ventre, dès que j’entend le son de sa voix. Ce n’est pas son physique. Du moins pas "que" son physique. Pourquoi cette envie soudaine ? Ce besoin impérieux ? En transferrant mes documents sur ce nouvel ordinateur, j’ai redécouvert les fichiers audios ( audiobooks, Cbeebies stories et extraits d’interviews) de mon dossier "Armitage". Et quelle claque. Encore et toujours. Cette réaction physique si viscérale, la chair de poule, le noeud au ventre, l’excitation, comme au début. Une seule autre personne me fait ressentir cela, et je me rend compte à présent à quel point ces deux personnes se ressemblent. Sans même réfléchir, j’ai saisi le coffret DVD de Nord et Sud et lancé le premier épisode. J’en voulais plus, j’avais besoin du réconfort que pouvait m’apporter Richard Armitage en tant que fantaisie personnelle.  

L’intégrité de ce blog a été compromise, tout comme celle de mon tumblr, une personne de mon entourage ayant eu accès à ces plateformes. C’est aussi une des raisons de mon silence. J’ai toujours parlé librement ici, exprimé mes idées sans filtres. Il m’est cependant difficile de faire comme si de rien n’était. Pourtant je ne veux pas avoir honte de ce que je suis, de ce que j’aime, de ce que je pense. Je n’ai pas honte de faire partie de cette armée, à ma façon. Alors je vais essayer.  

J’ai encore besoin de récupérer certains logiciels et de retrouver mes marques avant de vous présenter quelques jolies créations de mon cru ainsi que mes réactions tardives sur des séances photos qui m’ont faite baver par exemple :) J’ai une voix et je compte bien m’en servir.  

Bonne nuit Armitage Army.

Knock knock…

I’ve been lurking in the shadows for the past few days, wondering what I would say :-)

Many things have changed in my life, maybe I’ll write about it in a way or another. But one thing did not : how I feel about Mr Armitage. Well I’m not a die hard fan, but was I ever one ? ^^

However, here I am. Is it possible to miss someone you’ve never met ? I’ve missed him, I’ve missed blogging, I’ve missed the RArmy. That’s what I’ve realized when I saw The Hobbit (amongst other things ^^)

3 months to catch up…. damn !

How I see The Hobbit poster | Comment je vois l’affiche du Hobbit

If like me you spend way too much time procrastinating on the internet, you may have seen one of the "what people think I do" meme. Here’s one example.

Si comme moi vous passez beaucoup de temps à procrastiner sur internet, vous avez sans doute déjà un de ces memes.

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While everyone was swooning over Thorin, I couldn’t shake an image from my mind :-)

How people see The Hobbit poster

Comment les gens voient l’affiche du Hobbit

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How the Armitage Army see The Hobbit poster

Comment l’Armitage Army voit l’affiche du Hobbit

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How I see The Hobbit poster Comment je vois l’affiche du Hobbit

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How dessine-moi-un-mouton ( a fellow tumblerer ) see The Hobbit poster

Comment dessine-moi-un-mouton ( une compatriote de tumblr ) voit l’affiche du Hobbit

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And you, how do you see it ? :-)

Et vous, comment la voyez-vous ? :-)

Oh dear bearded beauty…

I know these pictures are old news but I can’t get over them. Not yet.

I’ve said here how much I love his outfit, but this time it’s not about fashion.

I don’t want to be brainy, to analyze and dissect why I love these pictures so much. It’s not important. What is, however, and what fascinates me is how much he appeals to me. Every time I look at them, it stirs my insides, provoking such a strong gut reaction.

I didn’t used to desire him, at least not until recently, but when I see a picture like the one above, I must admit I want him really bad :) I just want to be shallow and enjoy his gorgeousness.

What about you ? Do you have a picture that always do the trick for you ? Launching butterflies in you stomach every time you lay eyes on him ?

You are entitled to live Gizzi, like everyone else | Tu as le droit de vivre Gizzi, comme tout le monde

En français sous "Lire la suite"

To celebrate this week’s Guyday, I’ve made a gifset for Tumblr on one of the few scenes that moved me in Robin Hood series 3. Tumblr’s layout being specific,  here’s the one gif showing the moment that interests me.

Guy of Gisborne, afraid to die in Robin Hood E11S03.

Let’s be honest, Robin Hood series 3 has little interest besides Guy’s makeover (new outfit + sexy mane = mmmmm ….). I’ve already discussed here the only episode that I enjoyed in this season, episode 9 and the too short presence of Meg. For those whose memory is a little rusty, this scene takes place after the attempted release of Archer by Robin and Guy. A failed attempt "thanks to" Archer,  needless to say! Our three friends find themselves incurring a death penalty by hanging, their hands tied and sitting on horses. Obviously Guy is first on the list.

This scene makes me want to scream and cry. Let me explain. With the diversion organized by Archer’s mistress, Friar Tuck and Kate (…) rush to free Robin and Archer. Be it. But why not do the same for Guy ? Why is this a problem to free him at the same time ? What this means to me is that Guy is not considered as a member of the gang, he’s dispensable and worthless, a man one can lose without much consequence. It’s so unfair and gratuitous, for the purpose of having an archer duel between Robin and Archer (!). Especially with the mess surrounding them (the crowd movement, the panic and smoke), Guy is still on a horse, his hands tied and with a fucking rope around his neck. Let’s be grateful to the horse for being so calm or our Dark Knight would have met one of the most stupid death !

The expression on his face is heartbreaking. No trace of his usual haughtiness. I feel like I’m in front of a child, head and shoulders down in an attitude of submission, so far from Guy’s arrogance and pride. His shoulders are shaking, his mouth slightly opened shudders, his jaw hanging. He is miserable and pitiful, at everyone’s mercy, a position of weakness he’s not used to. What strikes me even more is the fact that, despite the desire to destroy himself he has shown since the beginning of the season, he’s scared. He is terrified to die. He doesn’t want to die, despite his despair, despite his guilt, despite everything, he does NOT want to die. That’s what moved me beyond words.

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Hobbit Trailer #2!!!! And Gifs, ’cause that’s how I roll.

Hobbit Trailer #2!!!! And Gifs, ’cause that’s how I roll..

This is what made my day yesterday evening ! What beautiful gifs !

I’m getting really excited over this, and not only because of Richard. But I have to admit I had to rewatch the trailer several times because I couldn’t focus on anything but his voice. I know you felt it too, this electrifying feeling everytime you heard his voice, deep and lowered.

Can I have a pocket Armitage ? Isn’t he cute ? :D