#colored pages book tours
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novelswithariana · 1 year ago
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books I've read in 2023 📖 no. 04
Wren Martin Ruins It All by Amanda DeWitt
“Why does this say”—he turns it around to read it—“Mr. and Mr. Wren and Leo Martin?”
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The Prospects by KT Hoffman Book Tour Post
Check out my Book Tour Post with #ColoredPagesBookTours for #TheProspectsTour
Title: The Prospects Author: KT Hoffman Publisher: The Dial Press (Random House Publishing Group) Publication Date: April 9, 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance Synopsis: The pressure cooker of minor league baseball leads to major chemistry in this exhilarating, sexy, and triumphant rivals to lovers debut romance. Hope is familiar territory for Gene Ionescu. He has always loved…
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savi0rr · 2 months ago
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thought abt viktor and wifey scenarios
- "you're staring!" "I like seeing you happy love"
- matching fits!!
- jayce and mel spying on them obv
- reading tgt!!
- picnic date + stargazing!
- meet jayce and mel? yea!!
- viktor being a softie for his wife and wifey js being the darling she is 🫶
Cozy Wife .ᐟ
Viktor x Fem! Wife! Reader
In which, sitting by the fire with a book can be romantic. If you weren’t being stalked by a nosy duo.
a/n: no one talk to me on Sunday (the eras tour is ending)
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“Dear, which book should we read?” you asked, your fingers gliding over the myriad of titles that crowded the bookshelf. The scent of aged paper and wood filled the cozy room, mingling with the warmth radiating from the crackling fireplace in front of you. Viktor remained silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration as he settled onto a small, soft cushion near the hearth. The dance of the flames cast a gentle flickering light across his thoughtful features. 
“Nothing nerdy,” you added playfully, glancing sideways at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Viktor raised an eyebrow in mock indignation and rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You pick,” he replied, leaning his crutch against the side of the cushion before resting his arm on his knee with a soft sigh. 
You nodded, your gaze darting to the shelves again. The colorful spines of novels seemed to whisper secrets and stories, each one beckoning for attention. After a brief moment of contemplation, you selected a book with an elegant cover adorned with swirls of gold. “Romance?” you teased, walking over to him with a playful sway in your step, taking a seat beside him, the cushion sinking slightly under your weight. 
Viktor perked up, his curiosity piqued as he tilted his head in your direction. “Romance? Of course…” he muttered under his breath in a tone that was half-annoyed and half-interested. You couldn’t help but giggle, your excitement bubbling over as you curled up next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. 
Slowly, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, but you noticed his muscles tensed slightly upon the contact of your skin against his. “You’re so dramatic,” you remarked, casting him a sideways glance as you opened the book to the first page, the pages crisp and fresh. 
“I am not,” Viktor shot back quickly, his voice sharp but betraying a hint of humor as he let out a small huff of frustration. You laughed, shaking your head with mirth. “I’m only teasing!” you said, prompting another huff from him. “… Kind of.”
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
Just then, Jayce and Mel poked their heads over the windowsill, their curious eyes shining with interest as they observed the warm scene unfolding. “Oh my,” Mel drawled, raising an eyebrow and smirking at the sight of you and Viktor nestled together. “They look comfy,” she teased, glancing at Jayce, who seemed mesmerized as he focused intently on the two of you, utterly engrossed in the moment.
Leaning your head against Viktor’s shoulder, you let your eyes dance over the text on the page, becoming engrossed in the words. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Viktor was not actually reading; his eyes were fixated on you, mesmerized by the way the light from the fire softly illuminated your features, making your skin glow and your eyes sparkle like precious gems as they reflected the flames. He felt his heart begin to race, causing him to shift slightly on the cushion, a wave of nervous energy coursing through him.
“You okay?” you asked, perking up at his movement and momentarily breaking your focus on the book. Viktor felt his cheeks warm, his pulse quickening under your gaze. “I’m fine, love,” he muttered quietly, briefly diverting his eyes to the book before flicking them back to you. In that moment, your eyes locked, and your hands slowly slipped away from the book to rest in your lap. 
“Do I have something on my face?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side with a curious expression. Viktor, entranced by your earnestness, remained silent for a heartbeat before gently reaching up to caress your cheek with his thumb, eliciting a flutter of warmth from within you. The world around you seemed to vanish as you both leaned in slowly, drawn together by an invisible thread, feeling the warmth of each other's breath against your lips.
But just as the moment reached its delicate climax, a sudden crash echoed from outside, jolting you both apart. It was Jayce, having lost his balance, who landed unexpectedly on his back with a loud thud, sending an outside seal clattering to the ground beside him. Mel stumbled after him but managed to land gracefully on her feet, her expression a mix of astonishment and amusement. 
“What on Earth?” you muttered in disbelief, both startled and amused as you stood up, your heart racing from both the interrupted moment and the unexpected noise. Viktor’s hands fell away from you as you rushed to the window, peeking outside but finding everything oddly still. “That’s odd,” you grumbled, closing the blinds with a decisive click before walking back to join him on the cushion once more. 
He quickly placed his arm around your shoulder again, his fingers idly toying with the collar of your shirt, his warmth enveloping you once more. “Where were we?” he asked, trying to regain the atmosphere.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
“You idiot,” Mel called out to Jayce as they both ambled back toward the Academia, her voice laced with lighthearted reproach. Jayce, still on the ground, rubbed his back with a grimace of embarrassment. “I don’t know what happened,” he mumbled, cheeks aflame from the fall and the attention, attempting to mask his discomfort with a nervous chuckle.
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nashdoesstuff · 17 days ago
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NEW [attempted chunky] SKETCHBOOK TOUR BECAUSE I’M FIXATED AND I KNOW I’M GONNA HAVE ART BLOCK BY THE END OF THE WEEK BECAUSE OF ITTTTT
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so i bought a plain black journal [specifically the paperage 5.6x8] and. i colored a front, spine, backside, and a first page all in the evening i got it
here’s some pics <3
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i got lazy on the back and slapped stickers on it but anyways
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added some inspirational messaging that will probably get hidden by the time i’m done with this book
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FIRST PAGE YAYA!!!!!!!
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uno skip card because it’s impossible for me to draw on this page
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CREST SPREAD!!!!!!!!! I’M SO REGULAR ABOUT HIM!!!!!
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here are the two pages :3
also the record part spins. btw. which is so exciting to me
AND the playlist thing has two sides, both w songs that relate to him in some way or form <3
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OKAY THAT’S ALL FOR NOW BYEEEE runs into the distance /silly
[btw guys. reblogs help more than likes!!! i kind of want to get more recognized for my work/characters so i would really appreciate it if more people rb’d these kinds of posts /nf/np]
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elysiaheaven2 · 3 days ago
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𝐓𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 - 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐆.𝐍 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟)
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Words: 11k (Late special for 80 Followers!)
Inspo from @roninroaming 's art! Tire change I love their art!
Genre: G.N Reader (Fluff)
Summary: Just a "accidental" sleepover with your man!
( Reader is a g.n!)
TW!
Violence and Gore – The narrative involves scenes from horror movies such as Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Saw, which feature extreme violence and graphic depictions of harm, along with mentions of blood and gore.
Blood and Body Horror – The repeated references to blood, gore, and horror elements like body mutilation could be disturbing to some readers.
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It was after Christmas, after New Year’s. The festivities had passed, leaving behind the soft hum of fading holiday cheer.
You finally finished your fan tour. Yes, the book got famous—the main novel and even the side story. Your fans devoured it all, their enthusiasm feeding a whirlwind of success that left your head spinning. They loved every plot twist, every heart-wrenching moment, and every intricate detail you poured into those pages. So much so, they insisted on a meet-and-greet.
…It was annoying.
Two days of back-to-back fan events because your so-called “manager” couldn’t organize anything right. Two days of smiling until your cheeks hurt, answering the same questions in slightly different ways, and signing until your wrist threatened mutiny. Now, you understood Angel’s pain all too well. She had always hinted at the darker side of success, but this—this was a crash course.
It all started with Seabird Publishing House. They took a chance on your story, and suddenly, you were a name people knew. Directors now lined up at your doorstep, waving adaptation rights in your face. You were a rising star.
A dream come true.
Yet even as the dream unfolded, you realized something. Something better. Something irreplaceable.
Through it all, you found a family—unexpected, unconventional, but a family nonetheless—within a “serial killer server.”
Each one of them brought something unique to the table. Angel’s charm, so intoxicating and genuine, was a balm to anyone lucky enough to know her. V’s mysterious aura, with layers you’d only begun to peel back, kept you guessing and intrigued. Misaki’s chaos brought life to even the dullest moments, a spark that could ignite laughter from the most stoic among you.
Then there was Luca, with his unshakable sunniness that could brighten the darkest day. Felicie’s kindness wrapped around you like a warm blanket, offering quiet support when words failed. Vince, with his poetic admiration of sunsets, shared his thoughts in ways that painted beauty where others saw none. Ai Hua’s steady stream of thumbs-ups, simple yet somehow profound, reminded you that sometimes the smallest gestures carried the most weight.
And then there was Ronin.
Ronin with his edge, his intensity, his everything. He was chaos, danger, and something else entirely—something that had wormed its way into your chest and made a home there. You missed them all, but you missed him most.
Yes, you missed him.
The realization hit you harder than you wanted to admit. Three days had passed since you logged into the server. Three long, hectic days of meet-and-greets, interviews, and meetings. You hadn’t had a moment to breathe, let alone catch up with your found family. The ache of their absence crept into your thoughts, unbidden and relentless. But when you thought of him…
Well, it was a different ache entirely.
Ronin had opened up a little more this Christmas. Not much—he was still Ronin, after all. But enough for you to see past the sharp edges and into something softer, something vulnerable. He wasn’t the monster he pretended to be, and maybe… maybe he wasn’t as untouchable as you’d once believed.
New Year’s had been unforgettable. A shared kiss under the brilliance of fireworks, the colors dancing in the sky as your heart raced faster than you thought possible. His lips had been surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the man you thought you knew. The memory played on a loop in your mind, each replay accompanied by a flush of heat and a flutter in your chest.
Ugh.
It was embarrassing how much space he occupied in your thoughts. But that was Ronin. He had a way of getting under your skin, into your head, and staying there. And honestly? You didn’t hate it.
But you missed them. All of them. You missed the banter, the chaos, the comfort of knowing they were just a message away. Most of all, you missed him—his wit, his intensity, his presence.
You sighed as your car smoothly rolled into Purgatory, a small bag with your homemade apple crumble sitting on the passenger seat. As usual, it was for him. Ronin, with his sarcastic charm and maddening edginess, always looked forward to these visits—even if he’d never admit it outright.
The neighborhood was quiet, almost unnaturally perfect, the kind of perfection that made you feel like something ominous was lurking underneath. But at that moment, you didn’t care. You were in a love-struck haze, grinning like a fool as "Flawless" blasted through your speakers, your fingers tapping on the steering wheel.
It was cheesy. It was stupid. But you were so deep in your little love bubble that you almost forgot the chaos that usually surrounded your life. Thoughts of your server family danced in your head—Angel’s sweet encouragement, V’s dry humor, Misaki’s wild antics. You missed them so much! But if you were being honest, you missed him just a little bit more.
You were daydreaming about the next time you’d see Ronin when—BAM!
A loud POP jerked you out of your daydreams.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" you yelped as your car wobbled dangerously before grinding to a stop.
You pulled over, jumped out, and immediately spotted the culprit. One of your tires was flat—completely, irreparably flat.
“Ughhhhh!” you groaned, kicking the tire in frustration.
Big mistake.
“OW! OW, OW, OW!” you yelped, hopping on one foot as the pain shot up your leg. “Stupid car! Stupid tire! STUPID EVERYTHING!”
You slumped against the hood, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. You had planned to go home, log into the server, and finally catch up with everyone. But noooo, now you were stuck here, stranded in the middle of nowhere, your car practically mocking you with its uselessness.
"This is the worst," you muttered, glaring at the offending tire like it had personally betrayed you.
Groaning, you pulled out your phone, squinting at the screen as you searched for a nearby mechanic. Relief washed over you when you found one just a few miles away. Great. Just great. Now you had to limp your car there on a busted tire.
Sliding back into the driver’s seat, you let out a heavy sigh. "This day can’t get any worse," you muttered, though you immediately regretted saying it because fate loved a good challenge.
The car grumbled and groaned with every revolution of the wheels, the uneven thud-thud-thud of the flat tire making your teeth clench. "I swear," you grumbled under your breath, gripping the steering wheel, "if this thing breaks down before I get there, I’m setting it on fire. I don’t care if it’s the middle of suburbia."
You inched forward, exhaustion crept up on you. The fan tour, the meet-and-greet, the endless smiling and pretending—you were done. All you wanted was to get home, log into the server, and see the chaos unfold with your found family.
"Ugh, stop it," you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head. "Focus on the road, not… him."
But the weight of the day pressed down on you, and the monotonous sound of the broken tire didn’t help. You felt your eyes droop slightly. You were just so… tired.
You pulled up to the mechanic shed, the broken tire scraping and thumping like a cruel metronome against your patience. As the car sputtered to a halt, you slumped over the steering wheel, exhausted.
The lights in the shed were dim, and a "CLOSED" sign hung mockingly from the door. You let out a groan, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration. “Of course, it’s closed,” you muttered. “Why wouldn’t it be? Perfect end to a perfect day.”
Steeling yourself, you decided to at least knock and beg for help. You opened your eyes—and froze.
Standing in the faint glow of the streetlamp was someone unmistakable.
He wasn’t wearing his usual black beanie with the grayish horizontal stripes and devil horns over his messy burgundy hair. Instead, his hair caught the faintest glint of light, wild and untamed. His eyes—those black, endless voids—locked onto you, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Ronin stood there, leaning casually against the wall like he owned the place. A shiny black leather jacket hung off his frame, riddled with scissors, pins, and safety pins that glinted in the dim light. Beneath it, a black t-shirt emblazoned with a grinning skull peeked through. His ripped maroon pants gave him an almost devil-may-care charm, and the GTrans bracelet on his wrist gleamed faintly, a subtle rebellion wrapped in tech.
Your breath hitched.
“Oh... my god,” you muttered under your breath, the realization hitting you like a truck. Of course. Of course this would happen.
You had somehow forgotten, amidst the chaos of the last few days, that your sweet, edgy, murder-loving boyfriend wasn’t just a killer with a penchant for theatrics—he was also a damn mechanic.
“Oh, the gods are laughing at me today,” you whispered, shaking your head as you stepped out of the car, trying to compose yourself.
Ronin tilted his head, his smirk deepening as he sauntered closer. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice oozing with amusement. “Look who stumbled into my little slice of purgatory. And here I thought you’d forgotten all about me, sweetheart.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. All you could do was stare at him, equal parts flustered and exasperated.
You cleared your throat, snapping yourself out of the trance his presence always seemed to induce. “Ronin! Hi!” you greeted, though your tone came out half-exasperated, half-relieved.
His smirk widened as he raised an eyebrow, casually shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Missed me, darlin’?” he teased, his voice dripping with that familiar mix of flirtation and mischief.
You crossed your arms, doing your best to look unimpressed despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “Ehh… don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, though the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed your act. “Anyway, I’m not here for a reunion. My car—ugh—tire’s busted, and I just need it fixed so I can get home and finally log in to the server.”
Ronin’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he listened, his grin softening into something almost fond. “Tough day, huh? Fan meet didn’t go so well?”
You groaned, throwing your hands up. “It was a disaster! Two days of back-to-back chaos because my manager is useless. I hated every second of it. I’ve never been so drained in my life.”
He chuckled, low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like a hug. “That does sound like hell,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the garage. “C’mon in. I’ll take care of it.”
Relief washed over you as you followed him inside. The garage smelled faintly of grease and metal, a strangely comforting contrast to the suffocating sweetness of the fan meet venues. Ronin pulled out a chair, motioning for you to sit.
“You’re my savior,” you said with a dramatic sigh as you plopped down.
He smirked over his shoulder as he grabbed his tools. “Savior, devil, mechanic—it’s a wonder I don’t charge extra for all the roles I play. Since you’re my lover, though, maybe I’ll give you a discount.”
You grinned, leaning back in your seat. “Oh, maybe, huh? Some boyfriend you are.”
His laugh echoed through the garage, light and genuine. “We’ll see,” he said, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment, glinting with something unspoken. His smile lingered—soft, warm, and so unlike his usual devilish smirk. Maybe… maybe he’d missed you too.
As he started working on your car, you noticed the little container sitting nearby, the one you’d handed him earlier. Sure enough, he was eating the apple crumble you’d brought him.
“Hey,” you called out, “how’s the crumble?”
He glanced at you, a crumb sticking to the corner of his mouth, and grinned. “It’s good,” he said simply, his voice softening in a way that made your heart skip.
You shifted in your seat, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze. Ronin noticed immediately, pausing his work and quirking an eyebrow at you. “What?” he asked, though his tone was already laced with mischief.
You shook your head quickly, trying to play it cool. “Nothing,” you said, but the way your voice wavered betrayed you.
He smirked, leaning against the car with his arms crossed, his dark eyes practically twinkling. “Oh, come on, darlin’. You’re not usually this quiet. What’s got you all flustered?”
“I’m not flustered!” you shot back, sitting up straighter in an attempt to regain some of your dignity. “And don’t call me that!”
Ronin’s grin widened, his teasing becoming relentless. “Darlin’, darlin’, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gotta say, I like it when you call me that too.”
Your face burned, and you huffed, standing up abruptly to face him. “You know what? You must’ve missed me more than I missed you,” you retorted, crossing your arms in a weak attempt to shield yourself from the storm of emotions he always seemed to stir up.
Ronin tilted his head, his expression turning mock-thoughtful. “Hmm, maybe. Or maybe you’re just really bad at hiding how much you missed me.” His grin turned softer, almost fond, and you knew you were losing this battle.
“Shut up,” you muttered, stepping closer to him despite yourself.
Before you could overthink it, you grabbed him by the collar of his shiny leather jacket and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, desperate kiss. For a moment, the world seemed to stop—no broken car, no exhausting fan meet, just him.
His mouth tasted faintly of apple crumble, warm and sweet, and as the kiss deepened, you felt a jolt of something electric shoot through you. He kissed you like he always did—like destruction, chaos, and temptation wrapped in something maddeningly irresistible.
When you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. “Ah,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “you really missed me, didn’t you?”
You rolled your eyes, but the breathlessness in your laugh gave you away. “Maybe I did,” you admitted softly, your hands still clutching his jacket.
Ronin’s smile turned impossibly tender, and he leaned down again, brushing his lips against yours in a way that was softer this time “’I missed you too, darlin’.”
You sat there, legs crossed, watching Ronin work. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the lean muscles of his arms as he worked on your car. The way his hands moved with practiced ease, the faint smirk tugging at his lips as he focused, and the occasional glint of his dark eyes—it was maddeningly distracting.
You tried not to stare. Really, you did. But every time you looked away, your eyes were drawn back to him like a moth to a flame. It didn’t help that the grease smudged across his face and the glint of metal tools in his hands only added to the rugged charm he wore so effortlessly.
Finally, he glanced up, catching you mid-stare. “What’chu lookin’ at?” he asked, his voice carrying that teasing edge that always made your heart race.
You quickly averted your gaze, trying to play it cool. “The car,” you said, a little too quickly.
Ronin snorted, straightening up and wiping his hands on a rag. “The car’s in bad shape, darlin’,” he said, gesturing to the broken tire and other issues. “She’s not gonna be ready until tomorrow at the earliest.”
You groaned, pulling out your phone to figure out your next move, but when you pressed the power button, the screen remained black. Your battery was dead. Perfect. You wanted to scream, maybe even cry, but instead, you let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Life is so shawty,” you muttered under your breath, clutching your phone like it had personally betrayed you.
Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your theatrics. “Gonna call a cab?” he asked, though his smirk suggested he already knew the answer.
You shot him a look, holding up your dead phone. “I was gonna call a cab, but obviously, that’s not happening now.”
He studied you for a moment, the gears in his mind turning. Then, suddenly, he grinned. That devilish, mischievous grin you’d come to recognize as the prelude to one of his infamous plans.
“What?” you asked warily, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Got an idea,” he said simply, his voice low and full of implication.
Before you could ask what that meant, you stood up—and promptly tripped over a stray oil canister. You went down hard, landing in a puddle of grease with a loud thud. For a moment, you just sat there, stunned and mortified, as the slick substance seeped into your clothes.
Ronin burst out laughing, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, darlin’, you’re killin’ me,” he said between breaths, his laughter ringing through the shop.
“Why the hell am I so trippy today?” you groaned, wiping at the grease on your hands, though it only made things worse.
Ronin crouched down beside you, still chuckling as he patted your head affectionately. “C’mon, grease monkey,” he said, helping you to your feet. “I got a plan, remember?”
You raised an eyebrow, still suspicious but curious despite yourself. “What plan?”
He grinned, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Sleepover,” he said, his voice practically purring. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. “A sleepover? Like, here?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, but his smirk gave him away. “Unless you wanna spend the night walkin’ home in greasy clothes with no phone and no car.”
Realization dawned, and you broke into a wide grin. “You mean it?”
“Course I mean it,” he said, standing back up and gesturing around the shop. “Ain’t much, but it’s got a roof, a couch, and me. What more could you want?”
You didn’t need to think twice. “Yay!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. Without thinking, you jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck in an impulsive hug.
Ronin stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but then his arms came around you, holding you close. “Careful there, darlin’,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. “You’re still covered in grease.”
You pulled back, laughing despite yourself. “Guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”
Ronin led you up the narrow staircase to his house, which was tucked away just behind the garage. The walk was short, but the moment he opened the door, he turned to you with a playful smirk and said, “Welcome to the Hell”
You stepped inside and glanced around. The place was... messy, but not in a gross way. More like a chaotic bachelor pad with an oddly cozy charm. Clothes were draped over the back of the couch, empty coffee mugs lined the counter, and random tools and knickknacks were scattered around. Despite the clutter, it smelled faintly of leather and spice—distinctly Ronin.
“It’s definitely messy,” you teased, grinning at him, “but... it’s cozy! Kinda suits you, honestly.”
He gave you a look, somewhere between amusement and mock offense, before chuckling. “Thanks. And I mean it, darlin’—I don’t get many compliments about this place.”
Before you could respond, he tossed a bundle of clothes at you. “Here,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. “Freshen up. You’re covered in grease, and you’re not gonna wanna sit on anything until you get cleaned up.”
You caught the clothes with a raised eyebrow. “What about you? You’ve been working in grease all day too.”
His grin widened, clearly catching on to what you meant. “What, you worried about me now? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take my turn after you.”
You folded your arms, pretending to think it over. “Nah, you first. It’s your house, after all.”
“Uh-uh, darlin’,” he said, shaking his head. “This ain’t up for debate. You’re the guest, so you’re goin’ first.”
Realizing there was no point in arguing, you sighed dramatically. “No, I’m gonna prepare something in your kitchen. Coffee or tea sound good?”
He tilted his head, giving you a mock-serious look. “You can make whatever you want, but don’t make it too greasy. I’ve had enough grease for one day.”
You smirked, unable to resist. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Mechanic.”
That earned you a light pinch on the cheek, his fingers surprisingly gentle. “Go on, troublemaker,” he said, his tone softer now.
With that, he turned and disappeared into the small restroom, leaving you standing in his living room with the bundle of clothes. You glanced toward the kitchen, deciding it was time to live up to your promise.
You rummaged through his cabinets, you found a kettle, some tea bags, and an ancient-looking coffee maker. “This’ll do,” you mumbled to yourself, getting to work. The thought of surprising Ronin with a warm drink made you smile—you were determined to do something nice for him, even if his kitchen was a little chaotic.
While the kettle boiled, you couldn’t help but glance toward the bathroom door, a small smile tugging at your lips. Messy house or not, it felt oddly comforting to be here, in his space, where the smell of him lingered and every corner seemed to carry a piece of his personality.
You poured the hot water over the tea and set the mug down just as you heard the shower turn off. Ronin’s voice carried from behind the door. “You better not be burnin’ down my kitchen, darlin’!”
You rolled your eyes, calling back, “Your kitchen’s still standing—for now!”
Ronin emerged from the bathroom, towel slung over his neck as he dried his burgundy hair. He was wearing an oversized, slightly wrinkled t-shirt that hung loosely over his frame, paired with baggy shorts and mismatched socks. The casual look was... unfairly attractive on him, and you found yourself staring for a second too long.
Noticing your gaze, he smirked and let out a sharp whistle, snapping you back to reality. “Hey, darlin’. Enjoying the view?”
You huffed, pretending to ignore him. “Thanks for the reminder to get back to reality.”
He grinned, stepping closer. “Reality’s overrated.” He reached out and lightly poked your forehead with his finger, stopping you mid-motion. You blinked up at him, confused, and before you could say anything, he flicked your forehead gently.
“Ow!” You pouted, rubbing the spot. “What was that for?”
“For zoning out,” he teased. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re still daydreaming about me.”
You rolled your eyes dramatically and grabbed the bundle of clothes he handed you earlier. “Whatever. Tea’s ready. Now get out of my way so I can clean up.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping aside with a playful grin. “Yes, . I’ll go enjoy my tea.. if it hasn’t turned into sludge in my absence.”
You stuck your tongue out at him before disappearing into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You started to clean up, you could hear him humming faintly from the other room. His voice, warm and relaxed, paired with the cozy atmosphere of his home, made you feel unexpectedly at ease.
You emerged from the bathroom, feeling a bit fresher but still shivering slightly. The oversized white t-shirt Ronin had given you hung loosely over your frame, and the little shorts he’d tossed in for good measure were surprisingly comfortable. You padded barefoot into the living room, rubbing your arms for warmth as you spotted him lounging on the couch, coffee mug in hand.
“Ah-choo!” you sneezed loudly, shaking your head as you plopped down on the opposite end of the couch.
Ronin glanced over, eyebrows raised. “Cold?”
“Yeah, the water was a bit chilly,” you said with a small laugh, sniffling.
He tilted his head in disbelief. “Didn’t you turn on the water heater?”
You blinked, your cheeks flushing. “...Nope.”
A grin spread across his face, equal parts amused and exasperated. “Tehee?” he mocked, imitating your tone perfectly. “Darlin’, you really are somethin’ else.”
You stuck your tongue out at him, curling your legs up under you on the couch. “So, what’s the plan? Are we just gonna sleep, or... you know, do something fun?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, taking a long sip of his coffee before setting the mug down. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. If you’re tired, the couch is all yours.”
You nodded, smiling softly as you moved to settle in on the couch. “Okay, sounds good—”
Before you could finish, Ronin’s hand shot out, grabbing yours and tugging you back. You let out a startled yelp as you tumbled backward, landing against him with a soft thud.
“Ehhhh!” you gasped, gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself.
He chuckled, the sound low and teasing in your ear. “Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed mockingly, his arms resting lightly on either side of you. “You really thought I was gonna let you off that easy, huh?”
You stared up at him, your heart pounding. “Ronin...”
He smirked, shaking his head. “Relax. I’m not that cruel.” His tone softened, and he leaned back slightly, giving you space but keeping you close enough to feel his warmth. “But you shouldn’t take everything so seriously, darlin’. You’ll wear yourself out.”
You exhaled shakily, letting your guard down a little. “It’s fine,” you said quietly, your fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt.
He glanced down, his eyes briefly scanning your outfit. “You look good in white,” he remarked, a playful glint in his dark eyes.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up.
Ronin’s expression shifted, his grin turning sharper. “Though, if you were covered in blood, it’d look even better.”
Your head snapped up, your brows furrowing. “...What? Like blood lilies or something?”
He let out a low laugh, his gaze gleaming with mischief. “Just sayin’ you’d look like a masterpiece.”
You groaned, shoving lightly at his chest. “This is supposed to be a sleepover, not one of your weird murder monologues!”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, his laughter echoing through the room. “Alright, alright. No murder talk tonight. Pinky promise.”
You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”
You sat comfortably, the conversation turned toward how the evening would play out.
“Alright, darlin’,” Ronin said, standing and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to distract you momentarily. “How about we set up for a movie night? Got some good tapes in my room. Best collection of yours truly."
“Your room?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, my room. Don’t worry—‘other stuff’ means movies, nothing weird.”
You snickered, standing up and following him. “Sure, sure. Lead the way, oh mysterious one.”
He smirked over his shoulder and opened the door to his room. It was surprisingly cozy—cluttered, yes, but in a lived-in way. There was a stack of VHS tapes by a small TV,.
“Whoa, what’s that?” you asked, stepping closer as Ronin watched you with amusement.
“My pets,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “C’mere. Meet Pepperoni and Blackjack.”
Your eyes widened as he opened the terrarium, revealing a sleek, vibrant snake that coiled lazily around his hand as he lifted it. “This is Pepperoni,” he said, holding the snake up for you to see. Its black-and-gold scales shimmered under the light, and it flicked its tongue curiously.
You blinked, taking a hesitant step back. “I think I’ll pass on holding that one, thanks.”
He chuckled, clearly amused. “Suit yourself. Pepper’s a sweetheart, though.”
Your attention shifted to the cage, where a small, fluffy rat sat chewing on a piece of food. “And who’s this little guy?” you asked, your tone softening as you crouched down.
“That’s Blackjack,” Ronin replied. “The little troublemaker of the house.”
Without hesitation, you opened the cage and gently picked up the rat, who squeaked but quickly settled in your hands. “Aww, you’re so cute!” you cooed, cradling Blackjack carefully.
Ronin snorted, watching the scene unfold. “Figures. Most people are scared of Blackjack, but you’re out here actin’ like he’s the cutest thing alive.”
“He is the cutest thing alive,” you shot back, stroking Blackjack’s fur.
Pepperoni flicked its tongue at you from Ronin’s hand, and you stuck your tongue out in return. “Still not holding the snake, though.”
“Your loss,” Ronin teased, letting Pepperoni coil around his arm. “But hey, Blackjack likes you, so I guess you’re off the hook.”
You laughed, setting the rat back in his cage. “You’ve got quite the little zoo here.”
“Only the best for the Devil,” he said with a wink. “Now, you ready to set up for this movie night or what?”
“Absolutely,” you replied, grinning.
With Pepperoni draped casually around his shoulders, Ronin handed you a stack of pillows and blankets, and the two of you started arranging them on the floor of his room
Ronin’s smirk grew wider as you squealed, clearly entertained by your reactions. He gently guided your hands to hold Pepperoni, carefully draping the snake around your arms. “C’mon, darlin’, it’s just a little snake,” he said, his voice full of amusement as you hesitated. “She won’t bite unless you piss her off.”
You giggled nervously, your hands trembling just a bit as Pepperoni slithered across your arms. “It’s so...slimy!” you squeaked, but there was an undeniable excitement in your voice.
“See? Told you It’s cute,” Ronin said, his tone teasing as he watched you fidget. “Just don’t freak out on me now. It's pretty chill.”
You squealed again, but this time it was more out of delight than fear. “Pepper!” you cooed, your hands slowly becoming more comfortable with the soft, slithery sensation of the snake. “You’re so adorable!”
Ronin chuckled, clearly enjoying the sight of you bonding with Pepperoni. “Yeah, I knew you’d come around. Look at you, all soft with my child here.”
You looked up at him, your cheeks flushing slightly from the attention. “You know, I never thought I’d be holding a snake today,” you said, laughing nervously but genuinely enjoying the moment. “It’s cute, though, in a weird, slithery way.”
“Thought you’d say that.” Ronin’s grin turned playful as he watched you interact with the snake. “I think it likes you.”
You gave Pepperoni a gentle stroke down her smooth back, and the snake flicked its tongue out at you, seemingly in approval. “Well, I like them too. Maybe it can stay here, and Blackjack can be my buddy.”
“That’s the spirit, darlin’,” Ronin said, clearly amused by your change in attitude. “But no promises on which one’s more trouble.”
You laughed, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment settling over you. Despite the oddities of Ronin’s life—his pets, his chaotic nature—this felt oddly perfect. Pepperoni nestled herself more comfortably in your arms as if sensing the calm around her.
“You’re alright, Pepper,” you whispered softly, making Ronin smile with a knowing look. “And I guess you’re not too bad either,” you added, glancing up at him with a playful grin.
“You’re full of surprises, darlin’,” he said, reaching out to gently pat Pepperoni’s head. “But you’re definitely more comfortable with her than I thought you’d be. You just needed a little nudge in the right direction, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face couldn’t be hidden. “Maybe. I’ll admit it—I’m getting used to your weirdness.”
“That’s the first step, sweetheart.” Ronin gave you a soft look as you held Pepperoni carefully, and his teasing expression softened for a moment. “
Ronin was moving around, grabbing extra pillows and blankets, as he made a cozy little space on the floor in his room. His hands were quick and efficient, pulling everything together to create a comfy spot for your movie night. He glanced over at you, still holding both Pepperoni and Blackjack with the most tender, protective care, like a mother cradling her little ones. You were genuinely smitten with the animals, and the sight of you bonding with them made Ronin’s heart soften, despite the tough exterior he tried so hard to maintain.
"Look at you," Ronin said with a teasing smile, his eyes gleaming with affection as he laid out the final blanket on the floor. "You’re all overprotective of my pets now, huh?"
You giggled, holding Pepperoni and Blackjack close to your chest like they were the most precious things in the world. "They’re just so cute! I love them already," you said, grinning wide. "I can’t believe I was ever scared of them."
Ronin sat back on his heels, eyes softened by your gentle smile. "Well, I knew you'd come around," he said with a smirk. "Look at you, all cozy with my animals now. Can’t say I didn’t warn you."
You rolled your eyes playfully at him but couldn’t help but beam with affection. "They’re so sweet! Pepperoni’s like a little snake cuddle bug," you said, carefully shifting both of them to make room for yourself on the blankets. "And Blackjack... Blackjack’s a whole mood. I love how feisty he is."
"You’re a natural," Ronin teased, finally getting to work on setting up his own spot, lying back onto the freshly made blanket pile. "I guess this’ll be your permanent home now, huh? First the couch, now the floor. You’re gonna need a bigger space for all that love you’ve got for my pets."
You scooted over onto the blankets with Pepperoni and Blackjack in tow, settling down beside Ronin, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I wouldn’t mind it," you replied, laughing softly as you tucked yourself in. "This is comfy! I could totally see myself spending more time here."
Ronin’s smirk softened into something warmer. He sat up, glancing at you with a quiet kind of affection before handing you the remote. "Alright, sweetheart, pick the movie. I’ll let you choose—since you’re obviously in charge of the pets now," he said, his voice teasing but filled with a subtle warmth.
You chuckled, looking at him through your lashes as you took the remote from his hand. "Well, if I’m in charge of the pets, you’re in charge of snacks," you quipped. "And by snacks, I mean anything sweet that you might have in this den of yours."
"Alright, alright, I’ll get the snacks," Ronin said, standing up and stretching. "But don’t think you’re getting away with it so easy. You’re gonna have to share some of that love with me too, darlin’."
With that, he headed to the kitchen, leaving you snuggling with the animals. You couldn’t stop smiling—between the warm blankets, the two cute pets, and Ronin’s easygoing, yet slightly possessive presence, it felt like you were finally finding your place in his world.
Pepperoni coiled herself comfortably on your lap, while Blackjack settled beside you, making content little squeaks. It felt so peaceful, so right, even in the midst of Ronin’s chaotic world. You ran your fingers through Pepperoni’s scales, a soft smile still lingering on your lips.
Ronin quietly put the pets back in their respective spots, making sure they were comfortable before heading back to you. He grabbed a plate of food he had prepared earlier, setting it on the low table between you both. With a soft smile, he poured you a cup of pu-erh tea, the rich, earthy aroma filling the air as he handed it to you.
"Here," he said, with that familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Hope it’s to your liking."
You took the cup with a grateful smile, your fingers brushing his for just a moment. "Thank you," you murmured, the warmth of the tea comforting you.
Ronin's eyes softened for a second, before his mischievous grin returned. Without warning, he threw a soft plushie at you. You blinked, surprised as it hit your chest. It was a goose plushie, its beady eyes staring up at you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. "What the hell, Ronin?" you said, holding it up and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
He laughed and shrugged. "I think it’s funny. Plus, you’re in my den now, darlin'. You’ve gotta embrace the weird."
Before you could respond, he grabbed the blanket that was laid out on the floor and threw it toward you. You yelped, startled by his playful antics as the blanket landed on top of you.
"You’re really pushing it tonight, huh?" you grumbled, trying to maintain a tough exterior.
Ronin just smirked, before walking over and sitting beside you. He casually draped the blanket over both of you, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders, pulling you closer. His touch was gentle, but there was a subtle, teasing glint in his eyes.
He kissed your forehead softly, the gesture tender and loving. As he pulled back, he playfully flicked your forehead, and you let out a soft huff, trying to hold onto your tough facade.
"Hmph," you muttered, pretending to be annoyed, but deep down, you were softening under his affection.
Ronin chuckled and spoke something in Cantonese, his voice low and playful.
"你真可愛 (Nei zan ho oi)." He said with a teasing grin.
You blinked, trying to make sense of what he said. "What?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, confused.
He leaned closer, his face just inches from yours, his eyes glinting with amusement. Slowly, he turned your head to face him, your gazes locking. For a split second, you both stayed still, the tension thick in the air, almost on the verge of a kiss.
But Ronin suddenly broke the moment with a playful smirk. "Darlin’... the movie," he reminded you, his voice teasing yet soft, his breath warm against your lips.
The screen lit up with the opening credits of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, you blinked at the title in disbelief. Of all the movies he could’ve picked, you had really thought Ronin might go for something romantic—some cliché sappy flick to match his occasional sweet words.
But no. Of course, he went with blood, gore, and chaos. Typical.
You glanced at him, squinting. “Really?” you asked, pointing at the screen.
He just smirked and shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around the both of you and drawing you closer. “What? It’s a classic, darlin “Besides, you said it was fine, darlin’. No backing out now.”
You huffed, but your lips twitched into a small smile. “Fine,” you muttered, settling against him. “But if I get nightmares, it’s your fault.”
The movie started, and it didn’t take long for the blood and chaos to unfold. At the first particularly gruesome scene, you let out an involuntary scream, clutching onto Ronin like your life depended on it. His chest rumbled with laughter, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair.
“Aw, poor thing,” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. “Didn’t know you were so delicate.”
You glared at him, but the next jump scare had you clinging to him again. He laughed even harder, his arm tightening around you. “This is gold,” he muttered, clearly enjoying himself.
The movie went on, though, the gore stopped bothering you as much. In fact, you started focusing more on the characters, your writer brain kicking into full gear.
“That guy’s an idiot,” you muttered, gesturing to the screen as one of the characters made a particularly stupid decision. “Like, who thinks splitting up in the middle of nowhere is a good idea? It’s like they want to get murdered.”
Ronin glanced at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh? And what would you have them do, genius?”
“They should’ve stayed together,” you said, your tone firm. “And they should’ve been armed. Like, why do they never carry weapons? It’s basic survival.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Listen to you, plotting their whole survival strategy. What are you gonna do next, darlin’? Rewrite the script?”
You shot him a mock glare. “I’m just saying, it’s frustrating when characters act so unrealistically. If I were writing this, they’d at least have some common sense.”
“Ah, there it is,” he said, his smirk widening. “That writer brain of yours. Can’t even watch a horror movie without tearing it apart. You’re adorable, you know that?”
Your cheeks warmed, and you tried to play it off with a shrug. “I just think it could be better, that’s all.”
“Sure, sure,” he teased, leaning in closer. “Keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, you’re over here analyzing every character like you’re their therapist.”
You elbowed him lightly, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “And what’s wrong with that? It’s not my fault they’re poorly written.”
He laughed, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looked down at you. “You’re somethin’ else, darlin’. But don’t worry—if Leatherface shows up, I’ll protect you.”
“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your sarcasm.
By the time the movie ended, you were leaning comfortably against him, your earlier fear replaced by a strange sense of contentment. Ronin reached for the remote and turned off the screen, glancing down at you with a smirk.
“So,” he said, “what’s the verdict? Was it romantic enough for you?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “Oh, absolutely,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Nothing says romance like chainsaws and gore.”
He chuckled, his fingers gently brushing against your shoulder. “Glad you liked it, sweetheart.
Ronin sifted through the stack of DVDs with one hand, the other still casually draped around your shoulders. You leaned against him, watching as he inspected each case. After the chaos of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, you were bracing yourself for another round of gore. When he stopped on Saw, your stomach sank.
“Nope. Absolutely not,” you said, your voice firm. “I can’t handle another movie where people are chopped up like deli meat.”
He turned to you, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “What’s wrong, darlin’? Too much for you?”
“Yes, too much for me,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Pick something comforting for once. Don’t you have, like, a favorite movie that isn’t about blood and guts?”
Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your insistence. He looked back at the DVDs, muttering under his breath. “Comforting, huh?”
After a moment, he let out a soft sigh and picked up a case with a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. “Maybe this,” he said, holding it up.
You blinked at the title. Heathers.
“Oh,” you said, sitting up straighter. “That’s... unexpected.”
“What?” he asked with a smirk. “Not enough blood and murder for you?”
“No, it’s just—” You paused, tilting your head. “Actually, never mind. Put it on."
He slid the disc into the player, and as the opening credits rolled, you found yourself stealing glances at him. Something about the way he looked at the screen, a little softer and more thoughtful than usual, made you curious.
The movie unfolded, and you couldn’t help but get sucked into the dark humor and iconic lines. But when J.D. appeared on screen, you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out, “You know, J.D. kinda reminds me of you.”
Ronin froze mid-sip of his tea, slowly lowering the cup to glare at you. “Excuse me?”
You grinned, loving the reaction already. “I’m just saying! He’s all intense, mysterious, a little unhinged. Very ‘I-do-what-I-want’ vibes. Totally you.”
Ronin leaned back against the couch, giving you the most offended look you’d ever seen. “Darlin’,” he said, his voice dripping with mock disbelief. “Did you just compare me to that twink?”
You burst out laughing, unable to stop yourself. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad! J.D. is, like, the ultimate bad boy. You should be flattered.”
He stared at you, his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Flattered?” he repeated. “He’s a whiny, melodramatic man-child who thinks he’s edgy because he wears a trench coat. You really think that’s me?”
“Well,” you teased, leaning in closer. “You both do have a flair for theatrics. And the whole brooding, dangerous vibe? Spot on.”
Ronin groaned, running a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “What the fuck did I fall in love with? An idiot?”
You giggled, clearly enjoying how much it got under his skin. “Admit it. You see the resemblance.”
“The only thing I see is that you have terrible taste in comparisons,” he shot back. “J.D.’s just... ugh. No. Not even close.”
“But,” you continued, ignoring his protests, “Heathers is a good movie, right? You have to admit, it’s got some great lines. Like, ‘Our love is God.’ Very Ronin-core.”
He shook his head, looking both amused and exasperated. “If you keep this up, I’m gonna start regretting letting you stay here tonight.”
You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest. “You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me,” he said, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.
The movie went on, you both got caught up in the story, occasionally pausing to debate certain scenes. When the moment came where J.D. goes completely off the rails, you gave Ronin a pointed look.
“Okay, this part is very you,” you said, gesturing at the screen.
Ronin threw a pillow at you without hesitation. “You’re done. No more comparisons.”
You laughed, catching the pillow and hugging it to your chest. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. But seriously, do you not see why people like this movie so much? It’s dark, it’s funny, it’s... weirdly relatable?”
He considered that for a moment, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, I get it,” he admitted. “There’s something about the way it shows how messed up people can be, but still... human, y’know? Even the worst of ‘em.”
You smiled at his thoughtful response, feeling a little proud of him for looking past the surface. “Exactly. That’s why it’s so good. It’s not just about the chaos—it’s about what drives it.”
He nodded, leaning back against the couch again. “Still not J.D., though.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you said, holding up your hands in surrender. “You’re way cooler than J.D. Happy?”
“Much,” he said with a smirk.
The movie ended, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the credits rolling in the background. You turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “So,” you said softly. “What did you think?”
He shrugged, but there was a glint of appreciation in his eyes. “Not bad,” he admitted. “Still think you’re insane for comparing me to that guy, though.”
You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re just mad because I called him a twink.”
Ronin rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it up, and I’ll find a way to make you regret it.”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” you teased, leaning your head on his shoulder.
He didn’t respond, but his arm came up to wrap around you, pulling you a little closer. Despite the banter, the warmth between you was undeniable.
The credits rolled on Heathers, Ronin leaned back, his gaze lingering on the screen with an expression you didn’t see often—soft, almost nostalgic. His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile as he exhaled deeply.
“This is my comfort movie,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Dunno why, but it’s... nice.”
You blinked in surprise, watching the way his eyes softened in the flickering light of the screen. It was rare to see him this unguarded. “Really? Heathers? I mean, I get it, but... I didn’t think you’d have a ‘comfort’ anything.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t make it weird, darlin’. Sometimes I just like somethin’ that reminds me... I dunno, that people are complicated. Flawed. And that’s okay.”
You smiled at his honesty, turning your attention back to the screen. The quiet moment between you felt strangely intimate, as if Heathers had peeled back a layer of his usual bravado to reveal something deeper.
But then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him shifting slightly away from you. The change was subtle, but you felt the absence of his warmth immediately. You turned to him, concern knitting your brows.
“Ronin?” you asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, his tone light, though his eyes flickered with something else. “Just... remembered someone, is all.”
You tilted your head, studying him carefully. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight in a way that told you it wasn’t “nothing” at all. Still, you didn’t press. Instead, you reached out, gently taking his hand in yours.
“If you need space, I can—”
“No,” he interrupted, his grip tightening around your hand. His eyes met yours, sharp yet vulnerable. “I’m fine. Stay.”
You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Okay.”
The moment hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, until he cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. “Right. Enough of that,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual devil-may-care attitude. “Let’s do another movie.”
You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You mean another comfort movie?”
He smirked, heading toward his DVD stack. “Something like that.”
You watched as he sifted through the cases, his movements deliberate but slightly mischievous. He pulled out a DVD and held it up, the grin on his face widening.
Your stomach dropped. “No.”
“Yes,” he said, his tone dripping with mock enthusiasm as he displayed the case proudly.
“No,” you repeated, more emphatically this time, as you stared at the title.
Saw.
“Yup,” he said, popping the disc into the player. “Let’s get cozy, darlin’.”
“Ronin, I swear—”
But it was too late. The screen lit up with the ominous opening sequence, and you could already feel the dread pooling in your chest. You turned to him, your expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation.
“Comfort movie, my ass,” you muttered.
He plopped back down beside you, pulling the blanket around both of you with a satisfied smirk. “What can I say? There’s just somethin’ about a little creative problem-solving under pressure.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I hate you.”
“Sure you do,” he said, his voice low and amused.
The movie started, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Despite your protests, you could see the way his eyes lit up at the screen, his smirk fading into an expression of genuine interest. It was maddening how much he enjoyed this stuff—but then again, it was also so him.
Saw unfolded on the screen, you quickly regretted every decision that led to this moment. The infamous reverse bear trap scene came up, Amanda crying and panicking as the countdown ticked mercilessly down. The sound effects, the tension, the gore—it all sent chills down your spine.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!” you screamed, clutching the blanket tightly against your chest as if it could shield you from the horror. “NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!”
Ronin, on the other hand, was the picture of calm, his sharp eyes locked on the screen with a faint smirk. “Classic,” he murmured under his breath, clearly unbothered by the grotesque imagery.
You couldn’t take it anymore. Another loud sound from the screen had you flinging yourself at him, burying your face into his chest. “RONIN, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” you shrieked, muffled against his shirt.
He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and patted your back, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “Darlin’, it’s just a movie,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. “You’re actin’ like Jigsaw’s about to crawl outta the TV.”
“HE MIGHT!” you wailed, clinging to him like a lifeline. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, and you pressed your face deeper into his chest, refusing to look at the screen. “This is torture! Actual torture!”
“You’re so dramatic,” he teased, shaking his head. But despite his words, his hand rested on your back, rubbing small, reassuring circles.
Another scream from the movie made you jump so hard you nearly climbed into his lap. He burst out laughing, his chest vibrating under your cheek. “Oh, darlin’, you’re killin’ me,” he said between chuckles. “It’s just fake blood.”
“It looks real!” you snapped, finally peeking up at him. His amused expression only made your blood boil more. “Why are you so calm?! Do you have ice water in your veins?”
“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk widening. “Or maybe I’m just built different.”
You groaned, swatting at his chest. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re adorable,” he shot back, his voice softening just a fraction.
Your cheeks burned at the unexpected compliment, but before you could respond, another gory scene flashed on the screen. You let out an involuntary shriek, practically throwing yourself onto him this time. His laughter filled the room, loud and unapologetic.
“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, darlin’, I think I’m about to be your next victim,” he joked, though his arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close.
“Shut up!” you mumbled into his chest. “I hate this. I hate you. I hate—”
A particularly loud squelching sound interrupted you, and you let out another scream. At this point, you weren’t even sure if it was fear or frustration fueling your outbursts. All you knew was that you were glued to Ronin, and there was no way you were watching another second of this movie without him as your human shield.
The screen went black and the end credits of Saw rolled, you let out the loudest, most dramatic sigh of relief imaginable. "FINALLY! It's over!" you declared, throwing your hands up like you’d just survived a warzone.
It was then you realized you weren’t holding the plushie Ronin had thrown at you earlier. No, instead of the goose plushie or even his oddly named "Devil" plush, you were clutching onto him like your life depended on it. Your arms were tightly wound around his torso, and your head was nestled comfortably against his shoulder.
“Uh…” you blinked, processing the situation, then shot him a wide-eyed look.
Ronin tilted his head slightly, a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Comfortable there, darlin’?" he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.
You practically launched yourself off him, retreating to your side of the makeshift movie-watching setup so fast you might as well have left a dust trail. "WH-WH-WHAT?! NO! I—UH—PLUSHIE! I THOUGHT—"
He threw his head back and laughed, his low, rich chuckle echoing through the room. “Oh, this is priceless,” he said between breaths, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “You really ditched the plushie for me, huh?”
You sat there, clutching the goose plush to your chest now like it could erase the memory of your impromptu cuddle session. "I DIDN’T MEAN TO!" you blurted, your face burning with embarrassment. “It’s your fault for putting on such a terrifying movie!”
“Sure, sure,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. His teasing smile only grew as he leaned back against the pillows, watching your flustered reaction like it was the real entertainment. “You scream, you cry, and now you use me as a teddy bear. Guess I really am a jack-of-all-trades.”
“Shut up,” you muttered, glaring at him. But your glare had no bite, especially when your cheeks were still so red.
“Hey, I’m not complainin’,” he added with a shrug, his voice softer now. “Kinda cute, actually. You clingin’ to me like that.”
Your embarrassment doubled, and you buried your face in the plushie. "You’re the worst."
“And yet, here you are.” He chuckled again, clearly having way too much fun at your expense.
You peeked out from behind the plushie, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t think this means I like Saw now.”
“Didn’t expect you to,” he said with a grin. “But admit it, darlin’—watchin’ it with me made it… tolerable.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Maybe,” you admitted begrudgingly. “But next time, I’m picking the movie.”
Ronin smirked. “Deal. Just as long as it doesn’t put me to sleep.”
The movie droned on in the background, the slow, melodramatic music barely making a ripple in the heavy silence between you two. Ronin, lounging beside you, had shifted slightly, clearly bored, his hand resting on the blanket, his eyes flicking from the screen to you every few seconds.
You, on the other hand, were fighting to keep your eyes open, the events of the night catching up to you. It had been a long day of tension, teasing, and some undeniably embarrassing moments. You yawned quietly, doing your best to hide it behind your hand, but Ronin caught it anyway.
“You tired?” he asked, his voice a soft hum next to you.
You quickly shook your head, trying to feign alertness. "No, no, just—uh… stretching."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act, but didn't press. Instead, he grabbed the remote and clicked the pause button, halting the movie mid-scene.
“Thank you,” you breathed, dramatically throwing yourself back into the pillows, “This is a blessing.”
Ronin’s lips twitched into an amused grin. “You really don’t like this movie, do you?”
You shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “Not really. It’s so… dumb.”
He blinked in surprise. “Dumb? What’s so dumb about it?”
You scoffed, sitting up slightly as you explained, “The man’s literally tearing himself apart because he’s stuck in the past. He can't say ‘I love you’ to this person because of some memories with his first love. And the other person is making him choose between them or his past. It’s just… dumb.”
Ronin’s head tilted slightly, the usual cocky edge to his expression faltering for a moment. “You’re saying it’s dumb because of the past?”
You nodded, feeling strangely passionate about it. “Yeah. It’s like… why should someone have to pick between their past and their future? Memories are a part of who you are. If it’s comforting to him, if his first love gave him something—then that’s just a part of him. The second person, they’re asking him to forget all that, and that’s not fair. No one can erase their past, no matter how perfect the present is. The past shapes people, it’s not something you can just toss away.”
You paused, then added softly, “It’s not about forgetting someone or something… it’s just about making space for the new things, too. You can still carry those memories with you, even if you move on.”
Ronin stared at you for a long moment, his gaze searching, intense as always. Then, slowly, he let out a low sigh and shifted in his seat, bringing his knees up and crossing his arms. “And what would you do in a situation like that?”
Your heart skipped, his question suddenly feeling a little too real. You looked at him for a beat, chewing on your lip. “I’d comfort the guy,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I’d tell him, it’s okay. That it's okay to have those memories. Because they made him who he is. I’d be glad he trusted me enough to share them, to open up about his first love. It’s a huge thing to let someone into those spaces of your heart.”
You shrugged, offering a small smile. “And, I guess… I’d be happy knowing that I have a place in his heart, too. Even if it’s not all of it.”
Ronin’s eyes narrowed a fraction, his mouth turning into a small, thoughtful frown. You couldn’t quite tell if it was just your words or something else that had made his expression shift.
He stared at the screen for a long moment before looking back at you. His voice was quieter now, almost contemplative. “You’d really feel that way? You wouldn’t feel… second best?”
You shrugged again, a faint chuckle escaping you. “Nope. Not at all. Because it’s not about being ‘first’ or ‘second.’ It’s about being there for the person. If they let you in, even just a little, that’s enough.”
Ronin’s eyes softened ever so slightly. You didn’t miss the shift in his demeanor, the way his posture relaxed. It felt like, for a brief moment, something between you two had clicked. You were both sitting on the floor, surrounded by pillows and blankets, a cozy little cocoon, yet it felt like the world had just gotten a little bit bigger—more open.
“Well,” he said, his voice warm but with a touch of amusement returning to his tone.
You raised an eyebrow, unsure if you should feel more curious or confused. “What do you mean?”
Ronin’s eyes flicked over to you, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, after a brief, tense silence, he shrugged. “Maybe,” he said quietly. “Maybe.”
You leaned back against the pillows, letting the quiet fill the space. The movie was still paused on the screen, the sappy romantic scene playing out in the background, but it hardly mattered anymore. The tension that had once been in the air had softened, replaced by something warmer, more genuine.
The silence between you and Ronin stretched, the weight of the unspoken words thick in the air. You could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing next to you, his presence so palpable it was like a shield. The movie played on in the background, its plot long forgotten, but neither of you seemed to care anymore.
The blanket cocooned you both, the warmth and closeness making it feel like a world of your own. You turned to look at him, the moment heavy with unspoken thoughts.
"What's wrong?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ronin didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, unexpected kiss. It was a surprise, one that made your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t hesitate. You kissed him back, the connection between you both deepening with each passing second. The kiss wasn’t rushed; it was gentle, a silent affirmation of everything that had been said and unsaid between you two.
The movie continued to run, but neither of you were paying attention. The only thing that mattered was the shared comfort of the blanket, the warmth of Ronin’s arms around you, and the way the kiss felt like something unspoken yet understood.
Ronin pulled back slightly, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softened. "Thank you," he murmured, barely loud enough for you to hear. It was a small, simple sentence, but the way it made your chest tighten told you just how much it meant.
Before you could respond, Ronin kissed you again, his lips brushing yours in a way that said more than words ever could. He didn’t give you the chance to ask why, didn’t give you the space to pull away or question anything. He just held you close, his presence quiet but powerful, and his kisses wrapped around you like a promise.
You leaned into him, your heart pounding in your chest, but for some reason, there was no need to talk. You just let yourself melt into him, and as his head settled on yours, your own resting on his neck, you felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.
Your eyelids fluttered, heavy with sleep, and before you knew it, your yawn escaped, followed by a soft mumble. Ronin didn’t say anything, just held you close as the warmth of his embrace lulled you into sleep.
You drifted off, you felt the movie still running, but it faded into the background as Ronin gently closed the TV. He kissed your forehead with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the most comforting way.
“Goodnight, darlin’,” he whispered softly, his voice a balm to your tired soul.
Before you could respond, you felt yourself being lifted. You blinked sleepily, your mind too foggy to fully comprehend what was happening. “Is it okay if I sleep with you?” you asked, your voice drowsy and uncertain.
Ronin’s smile was soft, almost fond, as he nodded. “Yes, of course,” he replied, his voice so gentle it made your heart swell.
You barely had the energy to process his words as he carried you to bed, your head resting against his chest, your limbs draped around him in a tangle of sleepy comfort. You mumbled something incoherent in your haze of exhaustion, your voice trailing off as you finally succumbed to the sleep that had been creeping up on you all night.
“Ronin,” you mumbled again, this time with more clarity, “I love you.”
Ronin paused for a brief moment, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. Then, in a low, quiet voice, he whispered back in Cantonese, “I love you.”
He kissed your forehead with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, and then, without another word, he pulled you closer, holding you securely as he cuddled you to sleep.
Ronin held you close, his arms tight around you as you nestled against his chest, the night filling with a comfortable silence. His fingers lightly traced patterns on your back, but then his voice broke the quiet, low and steady, a tone that held so many unspoken emotions. His Cantonese words flowed softly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
"你知道嗎?我從來沒有想過會有人出現在我這種腐朽的生活中。" (Nei zi dou maa? Ngoh chung loi meiyou seung gwo wui yahn chut joi ngo jeung chong fu gau dik sang wut jung.)
You looked up at him, trying to focus on what he was saying, his eyes soft but distant. He continued, the words coming out more slowly, as if they were something he had been holding back for a long time.
"你就像一個腐爛的聖人,從來沒有人能看見我,直到你出現了。你,存在於這裡,像是我生命中的一線光芒,讓我明白還有別的可能,還有希望。” (Nei jauh cheung yat go fu laan dik sing yan, chong loi mei yauh yahn nang hon gin ngo, jik dou nei chut yin la. Nei, chyun joi yu jeui lei, cheung si ngo sang ming jung dik yat sin gwong mong, yeung ngo ming baak waan yauh bit dik hoh ning, waan yauh hei mong.)
He sighed deeply, resting his chin atop your head. His voice was softer now, the weight of his words almost breaking through the stone walls he had built around himself.
"多謝你存在,謝謝你出現在我的生命裡,讓我明白一切都還不算太遲。" (Do jeh nei chyun joi, jeh jeh nei chut yin joi ngo dik sang ming leui, yeung ngo ming baak yat chai dou waan bat syun taai chi.)
You felt a slight tension in his body, as if he was waiting for something, but it wasn’t about you needing to say anything. He was giving you a part of himself he rarely shared, in the rawest form he knew how to.
"你知唔知…我愛你?" (Nei zi m zi... ngoh oi nei?)
His voice was hushed, a whisper against the stillness. Even though you didn’t fully understand the depth of everything he was saying, the emotion in his voice was clear. You felt it resonate deep inside you.
"謝謝你存在在這裡,謝謝你愛我…" (Je jeh nei chyun joi joi jeui lei, je jeh nei oi ngo...)
He pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you like he wanted to never let go. The words flowed from him without hesitation now, the raw honesty of it making your heart ache.
"你讓我覺得,這個世界不再那麼腐爛。我一度以為自己只是一個壞人,但遇見你之後,才知道也許我還有資格去愛。" (Nei yeung ngo gok dak, je go sai gaai bat joi naam mo fu laan. Ngoh yat dou yi wai ji gei chi sik yat go waai yan, daan yu gin nei ji hau, coi ji dou ya heui ngo waan yauh ji gaak heoi oi.)
He closed his eyes, as though the confession was not just for you, but for himself. A deep breath escaped his lips, and his voice was barely above a murmur when he added, "我愛你,謝謝你讓我感覺到一點溫暖..." (Ngoh oi nei, je jeh nei yeung ngo gam gok dou yat dim wan neung...)
"You know? I never thought someone would come into my rotten life like this."
"You’re like a rotten saint, no one ever saw me until you appeared. You, existing here, are like a ray of light in my life, making me realize that there are still other possibilities, still hope."
"Thank you for existing, thank you for appearing in my life, making me realize that not everything is too late."
"Do you know... I love you?"
"Thank you for existing here, thank you for loving me..."
"You make me feel like the world isn't so rotten anymore. I once thought I was just a bad person, but after meeting you, I realized that maybe I still have the right to love."
"I love you, thank you for making me feel a little warmth..."
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noxturnalmoth · 1 month ago
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Literary Service
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Summary: Life is a cruel mother but a great teacher. In Noxus, where life is but an afterthought, war raises its people with an iron fist. Whether they like it or not. So when one is courageous enough to escape, they learn to take all that life has to offer, even if it has to be by the skin of their teeth. What would happen if the scholarship that provided you with an escape made you encounter a man as great with his words as he is with hiding the festering wounds in his heart? And what if he was your teacher?
Warnings: Violence
Word Count: 2,344
Masterlist: here
Chapter 1 - Unintentional Consequences
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You'd almost forgotten what a nice breeze felt like. The colors of the world brightening again, trees and grass, the smell of fresh bloodless air fills your lungs and your mind with nothing more than a strong sense of hope. You made it, finally free from the hell that had taken you, broken you, rattled your spirit and made you almost entirely numb. Finally at the entrance gate to ZTC, after recovering from the pain they inflicted on you, the broken bones and attempted broken spirit. You had passed out from the pain and exhaustion after walking all the way to Zaun's border alone. Through gritted teeth, dried blood and tears, you forced yourself closer and closer to the sweet taste of victory. You had run on nothing but hope and the last remains of adrenaline from fighting off those bastards who wanted nothing more than to kill you for having a dream that wasn't war. Someone had found you, taken you in and nursed you to health, your injuries were severe, is what you were told. They'd broken a good bit of your spine and your leg will never be the same again either, which meant you'd need to use a crutch, or on bad days a wheelchair.
There was dread of course, knowing that you'd never be the same, that in the short span of a day you'd lost everything that made you useful to yourself and the people who took you. In Noxus, losing the ability to walk, to fight and protect yourself meant death. But as you're given a crutch and feel the intense pain slightly subside you remind yourself that this isn't Noxus. Not anymore. You had clawed your way to freedom, and of course it would take something from you as a reminder of how you got there. Even with this setback you would not let it ruin your joy or hope for the future you spent so long planning. Even now as you thank the person who saved your life and helped you recover what you could of your body, now changed forever with the aspect of disability, you feel your anger and grief slowly wash away. The blood on your hands stain forever, but you realize that you are doing this not only for yourself, but for the family and friends you'd lost all those years ago.
You double check for the letter in your pocket, exhaling relief when you feel it and taking your first genuine step onto campus. It takes some getting used you, using a crutch on one arm to steady yourself as you make the slow agonizing trek across the paved track. There's so many buildings here, so many people doing things or just sitting around talking to eachother and mingling, loitering without a fear for their lives, laughing and talking carefree and enjoying life in the moment. Your head was spinning, caught between a fear that your past will choose to follow you, and the joy that you finally took your life by the neck and choked it into submission, though now your hands will not need to be washed in blood. Instead, you imagine your fingerprints grazing pages of books, or tapping against the keys of a laptop the good samaritan who saved your life gave you as a final parting gift. You eventually find your way and show the right person your letter, and they regarded you warmly as you were given a free sweatshirt and your schedule. Just like that, you truly made it.
Staring at the schedule in your hand you realize that you have no idea where any of the places are. Since you walked here you missed the tour and another won't happen until the next day, and you aren't going to stand there looking dumb until the sun goes down. You decide that maybe it would be smart of you to ask someone who clearly knows their way around, so you take it upon yourself to carefully and as kindly as possible walk up to the nearest person who looks as if they've seen their fair share of the college night life. They were halfway through pointing out where the dorm rooms were when you felt a hand rest on your shoulder, and without thinking you grabbed onto the wrist of this person and flipped them onto their back, pupils dilated in an instant as your face felt hot and you were moving automatically. Your hands moved on their own, punching, pulling and clawing your way past skin, muscle and nearly to bone. Your mind rushed to that night where you were attacked, the laughing from your attackers and the blood in your mouth. The heavy stone breaking your spine and nearly your spirit. You pull out hair, and tears hot and heavy stream down your face before you have a chance to realize what you were doing. The screams weren't helping, and no one was brave enough to pull you away from this poor person and you continue you destroy the parts of their face you can reach, body on its own while mind tried to reign it in. People run, or cry, or nearly throw up at the blood that covers you and you try so hard to stop yourself, you don't want to be this anymore, you don't want your first impression to be this violent thing that you were forced into being. Beautiful green grass stained red by your hands and with your luck, this will be the first and last time you ever see grass again.
"At Ease." You hear between the screaming and gagging of hundreds surrounding you, and your body stops on command. Like a good little soldier, like the past you want to forget exists, that made you into the animal that ruined this poor victims face. You look at your hands and the person you hurt, the damage was hard to see through the blood, and you feel yourself crudely cracking a smile at the damage before you break down into tears. "On your feet." And you listen, still sobbing through bloodied hands, the metallic smell of violence filling your nostrils and forcing out a louder choked sob as you nearly crumble to your knees again. A gentle hand grabs your wrist and you feel your body tensing again, ready to do whatever it needed to keep you alive again, except you felt too weak to do more damage. You berate yourself in the back of your mind as you let whoever has hold of you walk you away from the crowd, voices of panic and disgust slowly fading while you are led somewhere else entirely and in your head you realize that this is it for you, and you're done for, and your college life started and ended in the span of two minutes. Thoughts going wild as you're sat down by this mystery person, a gentle hand wiping the blood from your hands as you silently weep. Cool cloth getting the flesh from your fingernails before another wipes at your face. Finally feeling the need to move again you take the cloth and clean your own face, dark red essence and tears invisible on the imbibed cloth, which you were so thankful for.
The sound of a lighter sparking takes your attention away from your own horrid thoughts, then the light crackles of a cigarette and exhalation of smoke. A careful hand offers you one, unlit and carefully held by the paper between two pale fingers. You take it, and once it was placed between trembling lips a generous light followed and you take a long drag of it, letting the smoke build up as you think about what you've just done, what you always did and what you were trained to do. The screams and terror filled expressions cloud your vision, the memories you have filled with red, everything red and bloody, the rain a rough scarlet as you claw and break and kill anything in your way. "Holding it in hardly does a thing, you know." The sharp voice tears you from your mind violently. You exhale the smoke you had no idea you were holding in and feel yourself calm down. The aftertaste tells you this isn't a regular cigarette, and you huff in mild amusement. "That was quite a show back there." The voice began, and you turn to face it finally. To say you were surprised is nothing less than an understatement, you have seen horrors but you have never seen skin lined in specific scars tracing from the corner of mouth to temple. Even crazier was the eye that looked at you, a pitch black unblinking thing, with a blood red pupil that seemed to know more of your sins than you would dare tell a soul, and a profile sporting a sharp and featuristic aquiline nose that grabbed attention just as much. "Never have I seen such raw violence. You must be from somewhere particularly destructive on one's mind."
He turns to look at you, the other half of his face a stark contrast, lightly stressed skin with a calm teal eye, yes it still seems to be staring into you and you feel heavily exposed. You start to shake your head, then you nod, finding lying difficult. You are Noxian now, or were, as that was all you could remember after years of trying to hold onto what life was like outside the fiery planes of hell itself. You put the still burning cigarette in your mouth and take a drag, he looks over you carefully before continuing. "I know it was an accident. Violence like that, the following screams of anguish, that is never on purpose." He gestures vaguely to you, the exhaustion is probably obvious on you, and you feel as if he'd called you out on something. You hang your head slightly, and he snuffs out the cigarette he'd lost interest in. "I'll talk to the Principal, and ask the hospital how poor Alex is doing once they finish looking him over." You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder as you take a final quiet drag of the cigarette, finally calm after that horrible few minutes of too many emotions pushing you past that point of no return.
"You need rest, take the remainder of the day off alright? We are right behind the dorm building." He hands you your crutch as you had dropped it during the incident, and you were greatful he decided to take you and your aid out of that situation. You look at him with an apology in your throat, but Noxians do not apologize and that keeps you from saying anything. He simply holds out his hand for you to take, and you do just that, something about him makes you drop guard and follow what he says, which not even your old commanders and generals could get from you. Walking you into the dorms and helping you find the elevators to your floor, and your room. You were glad you chose the single person dorms instead of the group, the size of the room larger than your old sleeping quarters, with a bed that looked to actually fit you. Sitting on the bed and taking everything in, he gives you a brief nod and reaches for the doorknob. "Try not to worry to hard, alright? I know that this is a less than ideal beginning, but everyone starts somewhere. Welcome to Zaun Tech." He leaves, the door closing gently behind him as the sound of his shoes slowly disapears leaving you in solitude with your thoughts. Though you find yourself exhausted once again, and the violent memories fight against Morpheus' embrace as you lay back on the bed and lazily toss clothes off and onto the floor. For once in your life, much to your bitter amusement, the memories lost their battle and you find yourself asleep. You dream of nothing that night, and you thank every God watching over Runeterra for it.
The problem when you fall asleep with no one to wake you is that time slips away. It was peaceful, of course, being able to rest by your lonesome with no one observing you or murmuring in their sleep. Though peace further ruins your already horrible record with this school as you find yourself rushing to whichever class you could make it to, as you slept clean through the first two. Moving as fast as the crutch and the painful limp can allow, you make it to the room as a few people still trickle in and you stop just outside the door to catch your breath. A few faces you remember from the day before, they look at you slightly worried but other than that regard you as someone not worth missing class for. Thankful for the carefree nature of most people already, you gather yourself and walk into the amphitheater. Literature was what was on the schedule, you check the door number three times before finding a seat not too far back from the front of the class, but far enough to where the light doesn't give you a migraine. Once seated you relax a bit, mulling over the idea of what reactions would the teacher of the two previous courses have over your absence. You look to the front towards the projector, mind drifting back to those hours you spent scribing war plans and self absorbed ramblings for narcissists. "Alright," That voice snapping you from your thoughts yet again. He's here, but why? You watch him walk into the room, arms behind his back and a slight dip to his gait. "If everyone is seated, class can begin." He makes eye contact with you, his red eye covered generously with an eyepatch and smiles. No way. You look at your schedule, then back to him. The world seemed to cave in all at once. Mr. Marlowe, your literature teacher, is the man you'd shared a smoke with yesterday.
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ahistoricdistraction · 3 months ago
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Finally finished my binding of my fic, Burn it All Down! So freaking happy with how it turned out. I bought this coverstock long before I'd ever even thought about writing this fic, no idea what I was going to use it for, but it was PERFECT for this. Right now the back cover is the same as the front but without any text. I might still add a quote to the back, but I haven't decided which one yet.
I had originally wanted the stripes to go all the way around, but I didn't have quite enough of the yellow vinyl. I do so love the white vinyl, it's a lovely iridescent color, but I discovered it is a PAIN to weed anything other than large simple shapes like that stripe so I'm not sure how or if I'll use it in the future. It was PERFECT for this, though.
The endpapers are a stock illustration I modified just slightly because I didn't like the jagged edges of the original flames, and I had to extend one side slightly so it would be the right size for the book.
Also, if you would like to bind this fic yourself, you are more than welcome! I've got a folder full of resources here if you want to use my files, but you are welcome to make your own too! Fun fact, if you use the version with 16 page signatures, you'll end up with a handful of blank pages at the end which, if you've read the fic, you might find something to do with once you've got it all printed out and bound up. ;)
Info on the fic:
Read it here.
Rating: E
Summary:
After a few years of living together in New York Alex and Henry's lives are going great, but Queen Mary is an ever looming shadow. When she summons Henry back to England for apology tour for a comment he makes on a podcast, Henry and Alex realize something needs to change. Before they can make that change, though, Henry's plane home from the apology tour crashes in the Canadian wilderness, killing all on board. Or so Alex is lead to believe. Trapped in his grief, he flees back home to Texas to try and start over. And over. And over. He finally settles in a small town at a small lawfirm, but it isn't until he joins the local volunteer fire department that his life starts to finally turn back around. Only Henry isn't dead. In an attempt to both smother his "corrupting influence" but still protect the line of succession until Philip has kids, Mary has had him squirreled away deep in the Australian outback. And, well, it's amazing how often the outback burns, isn't it? Sometimes, it burns so bad, they need help from international firefighters...
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thatchickwiththecamera · 6 months ago
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ROOMMATES | Jesse Cash One Shot
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Pairing: Jesse Cash x Reader
Warnings: Contains Smut, 18+ Only
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Your studio in the house wasn’t the same as the spare rooms Michael and Noah used or the garage space Jesse converted to write and produce music. Your desk and iMac were set up in one corner, with a small makeshift reading nook in the neighboring one by the window. The other half of the room had a couch flanked by two tall reading lamps on either side with miscellaneous shelves and crates of camera gear along with a few spools of various colored backdrop paper hung neatly on the wall. 
You worked as a digital media creator and while you worked in the music industry, your realm of expertise was more in tune with the world of photography, videography, and graphic design as opposed to the actual creation of music like your roommates. You had met the guys through working on a few projects with your friend Orie McGuiness and when he moved out he had vetted you as being the perfect person to take over his portion of the lease. 
Living in a house full of creatives was quite the experience. It wasn’t unusual for one of the guys, mainly Noah or Jesse, to randomly pop in unannounced while you were in the middle of a project. Your studio was sort of neutral ground. It was a place where they could take a break from their own work while still being in a creative environment. They’d come in and inquire about whatever project you were currently working on and you’d take the time to get a fresh eyed opinion on the progress you had made.
Noah would sit on the couch and tell you all about the newest anime he was watching, what artists he and Jolly had recently been hired to write for, or whatever new ideas he, Matt, and Davis had come up with for the next tour. 
With Jesse you’d end up talking about almost anything and everything. One day you’d have a long discussion about something as simple as pro baseball box scores and your mutual appreciation of the Red Sox. Other days you’d talk about things like why Anthony Green has been in so many rock bands, and why Circa Survive was your favorite over Saosin. 
If it was too hot to sit outside, Jesse liked to come in and commandeer your reading corner, claiming that your window had the best natural lighting in the house. Which had also led to a portion of your bookcase being overrun with books Jesse had finished and insisted that you should read next. 
There were many nights where you’d both end up in your studio reading. It was one of your favorite routines that had developed since you had moved in two years prior. Either one of you would be in the chair in the corner and the other would be on the couch, or sometimes, you’d both end up curled up on opposite ends of the couch under the two reading lamps with whatever books you had become engrossed in that week. 
Around six thirty, you heard the door to the studio open. Right on time. 
You looked over from where you sat on the couch to see Jesse walk in with the latest Stephen King novel he was reading wedged under his arm. You slipped your bookmark between the pages of your new Sarah J. Maas bestseller and moved the pile of pillows next to you. He kicked off his shoes and settled into the other end of the couch. You shared a smile before the both of you slipped into a comfortable silence. 
About an hour or so had passed before Jesse reached down and grabbed one of the discarded throw pillows and tossed it toward you. You set your book down and watched as he laid his head against the pillow now propped up against the side of your lap and kicked his feet out, resting them against the opposite end of the couch. Once he was comfortable, he reopened his book and continued reading. You smiled to yourself before resting your arm against the top of the pillow and returning to your own book. 
As you got lost in the pages of the fantasy book, your fingers began absentmindedly fiddling with the mess of curls that peaked over the top of the pillow. Jesse hadn’t cut his hair since the start of the year and the brown coils he usually hid under his favorite black ball cap had grown long and wild over the last six months. 
You found yourself drawn into the rhythm of reading, the soft hum of the air conditioning providing a soothing background noise. Jesse’s presence beside you was comforting, his warmth seeping into your side where he leaned against you.. 
Lost in the world of your book, you almost didn’t notice when Jesse shifted beside you, stretching out his legs a bit more. You looked up instinctively, meeting his eyes briefly before he glanced back down at his book, a small smile playing on his lips. 
"Hey, do you ever wonder if there’s more out there?" Jesse's voice broke the silence, his question unexpected but not entirely out of place given the late-night contemplative mood. 
You considered his question, choosing your words carefully. 
"More in what way?" 
He hesitated, as if searching for the right way to phrase his thoughts. 
"I mean... more than like what we're doing now. More than just work and routines. Like... possibilities we haven’t explored." 
The air between you felt charged, the weight of his words hanging in the small space of your studio. You could feel your heart race a little faster, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. But before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open abruptly, startling both of you. 
Noah stood there, grinning mischievously. 
"Hey, sorry to interrupt... but I need Jesse’s help with something. You guys are reading together again, huh? Cute." 
Jesse shot Noah a playful glare, but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks as he quickly straightened up, removing himself from the cozy position against you. 
"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec," he replied, gathering his book and pushing himself off the couch.
"We'll talk more later," he added with a meaningful look before following Noah out of the room. 
Left alone in the wake of their departure, you let out a sigh of mixed emotions. It seemed every time the atmosphere between you and Jesse began to hint at something more, it was swiftly interrupted or diverted. The unresolved tension lingered in the air like an unfinished melody, leaving you wondering what could have been said if only there had been a few more moments of silence. 
With a shake of your head, you returned to your book, though your mind kept wandering back to Jesse’s question and the unspoken connection between you. 
A few days passed and you hadn’t seen Jesse much. He was busy fine tuning the last few guitar riffs and lyric ideas he had in preparation for when he met with the rest of the ERRA boys to track their new album the next week. 
It was a little after two in the afternoon when you emerged from your studio and shuffled your way downstairs to the kitchen. You hadn’t planned on working as long as you had that morning, but you had found yourself locked in on your most recent project and had lost track of time. You hadn’t realized how late it was until your stomach started growling from lack of food. 
You popped a snack plate of leftovers in the microwave to reheat and decided to knock out some of the dishes that were left in the sink from earlier in the day when the guys had made their morning coffee. You were drying Noah’s white ‘Shuh Da Fuh Cup” mug when you heard the sound of the sliding glass door open. 
You looked up to see a shirtless Jesse walk in wearing a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers. His curly hair was damp and his upper body glistened with a layer of sweat from working in the backyard all morning under the blazing California sun. Living with three guys, you were very much used to seeing the guys lounge about and walk around the house in various states of undress. 
But your eyes couldn’t help but follow his form as he walked through the kitchen. Noticing the details of the familiar tattoos that adorned his stomach, chest and arms as he grabbed a clean glass from the drying rack next to you and filled it with water from the tap. 
He leaned back against the island where you were standing and raised the glass to his lips. Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. The colors of the flower on his right hand were highlighted as his long fingers wrapped around the glass. Your mind started to drift and you couldn’t help but wonder what that hand might feel like wrapped around your throat. 
“Enjoying the view?” He asks. 
The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You’d been caught and felt a blush start to creep across your face. 
Your eyes flicker to his and he smirks at you in amusement before downing the last of the water. The smell of sweat mixed with his body wash filled your nose as he reached around you to place the empty glass in the sink. You could feel the heat radiate off his sun kissed skin.
His face came dangerously close to yours, eyes never breaking contact. You roll your eyes and he sends you a playful wink before making his way out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, presumably up to his room to shower. 
You stood there for a moment trying to process what had just happened before you were startled by the sound of the microwave over the stove. With a sigh you retrieved your food and retreated back upstairs to continue working.
As you returned to your studio, the encounter with Jesse in the kitchen replayed in your mind like a scene from a movie. His casual remark about enjoying the view left you flustered, but you couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through you. Jesse had always had a playful, teasing side, but lately, it seemed his interactions with you held a subtle undercurrent that made your heart race.
Back at your desk, you tried to refocus on your work, but your thoughts kept drifting. You found yourself glancing at the doorway, half-expecting Jesse to reappear, yet knowing he was likely downstairs working in his studio by now. The memory of his closeness, the scent of his sweat mixed with the faint trace of his cologne lingered in your memory. 
The afternoon sun cast warm hues through the window, illuminating the room in a comforting glow. You tried to lose yourself in editing photos, tweaking colors and compositions, anything to distract you. But every now and then, your mind would wander back to his question from a few days earlier. The one about possibilities unexplored, about more than just the routine of work and friendship.
Hours passed in a blur. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. You glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly time for dinner. With a sigh, you saved your work, shut down your computer, and stretched out your stiff limbs. 
In the kitchen, you found Noah already cooking up something, dancing and singing to a song that blasted from the bluetooth speaker on the island. He greeted you with a grin and a teasing comment about being lost in your work again. You chuckled in response, helping him set the table as you exchanged small talk about the day.
Soon, Jesse sauntered in, dressed casually in a worn band tee and joggers. His hair was still a little damp from his earlier shower, curls slightly tamed, and he greeted you with a genuine smile. 
You couldn’t help but notice the ease with which he moved around the kitchen, effortlessly sliding into conversations with Noah about the new songs they were working on.
Dinner passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories. It was just you, Jesse, and Noah since Michael was off spending the weekend with his girlfriend. The familiar banter and camaraderie among the three of you was comforting. 
After dinner, you cleared the table together, rinsing dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher. Jesse volunteered to dry, and you handed him plates and glasses with a smile, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed against each other’s.
As you finished up in the kitchen, Noah excused himself to take a call from Matt about one of the band’s upcoming studio sessions. Jesse leaned against the counter, watching you quietly with that thoughtful look that always made your heart skip a beat.
"So," he finally said, breaking the silence, "did you get much done today?"
You nodded, a nervous energy tingling in your fingertips. "Yeah, I made good progress. How about you? Productive day in the backyard this morning?"
Jesse chuckled, setting down the dish towel and stepping closer to you. "Yeah, it was alright. Hot as hell out there, though."
You laughed softly, feeling the proximity between you like a magnetic pull. "I can imagine."
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet yours again. 
“Listen, about earlier... in the kitchen."
Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation and uncertainty swirling in your chest. 
"Yeah?"
He took a deep breath, his expression earnest yet guarded. 
"I just... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. I was just teasing."
You shook your head, smiling softly. 
"It’s okay, Jesse. I know."
There was a pause, his eyes searched yours, as if trying to decipher something hidden beneath the surface. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something more. 
But before either of you could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, signaling Noah’s return. The moment shattered and Jesse stepped back, running a hand through his curls.
Noah announced he was headed out for the evening. He had to go to their friend Davis’ house to work on finalizing the designs for the next few merch drops and some visual ideas for the band’s upcoming tour. 
With Noah's departure, the house suddenly felt quieter. You and Jesse exchanged a glance, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before you turned back to finish drying the last few dishes.
"I should probably go and finish up the track I’m working on," Jesse finally broke the silence, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on you.
"Yeah, I've got a few things to wrap up myself," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves dancing in your stomach.
As you moved toward the stairs, a sudden loud rumble of thunder startled you. You glanced out the window to see dark clouds rolling in, blotting out the remnants of daylight. The distant flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
"Looks like we're in for a storm," Jesse remarked, his voice low. 
"Yeah, seems like it," you agreed, feeling the tension in the air thicken with the impending storm.
You retreated to your studio upstairs while Jesse headed to the garage. The sound of rain started as a soft patter against the window, gradually building into a steady downpour. You tried to focus on your work, the glow of your computer screen casting a faint light across the dim room. 
Minutes turned into hours as the storm raged outside, the occasional flash of lightning and rumble of thunder punctuating the night. The power flickered once, twice, before finally plunging the house into darkness. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, the absence of the hum of appliances and electronics leaving you acutely aware of the sound of your own breathing.
You sat back in your chair, momentarily stunned by the abrupt darkness. You reached for your phone, activating its flashlight to navigate your way downstairs.
As you made your way downstairs the light from your phone cast eerie shadows against the record plaques and framed tour posters hung along the wall. The power outage seemed to have affected the entire neighborhood, plunging everything on the block into darkness.
Navigating carefully through the hallway, you headed towards the kitchen where you knew there were candles stored for situations like this. As you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Jesse, who seemed to be on the same mission.
"Shit! Sorry!" he exclaimed, steadying you with a gentle hand on your arm. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," you replied, heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. "Just looking for some candles."
"Yeah, same here," Jesse said, his voice low. "I think they're in one of these..."
Together, you searched through various drawers, finally locating a cabinet of miscellaneous colored and scented candles. He lit a few and placed them strategically around the kitchen, casting a soft, flickering light that danced across his features. 
You struggled to reach where the emergency lantern sat on the top shelf in the kitchen cabinet and had to resort to climbing up on the counter to grab it. You felt a hand ghost your lower back steading your movements as you lowered yourself to a sitting position on the counter top, legs dangling over the side. You handed the lantern off to Jesse. 
"Thanks," you murmured, he lit the lantern and set it beside you on the counter. 
“No problem,” he replied, voice husky in the quiet room. 
The warm glow illuminated his features, making his eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. He moved closer and stood between your legs, hands resting against the counter on either side of where you sat, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes scanned your face looking for a sign to stop as he leaned closer. The air between you crackled, the charged atmosphere inside mirroring that of the storm outside. 
Your noses brushed against each other, breath intermingling for a moment before the remaining distance between you vanished. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration of lips meeting in the dim candlelight. But as the moment stretched, the intensity between you grew, fueled by the proximity and the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
His lips were warm against yours, a contrast to the cool touch of his fingers on your skin. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, both of you had been waiting for the moment, this acknowledgment of the desire that had been building between you.
Time seemed to stand still in that moment, the storm outside forgotten as you melted into each other's embrace. One of his hands ran up your arm and rested against the side of your neck as the other slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Your hands found their way into his mess of curls. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the subtle aroma of wax and rain, the mixture of smells enveloping you both.
When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Jesse rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on the exposed skin of your thigh. The silence around you was profound, broken only by the soft crackle of the candles and the distant rumble of thunder.
His eyes darkened as a flash of lightning illuminated his face through the window. His lips connected with yours once more and he lifted you from the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the couch in the adjoining living room. 
You sat straddling his lap as his hands found their way under your shirt. You lifted your arms and the article was quickly cast aside. His own shirt soon followed. You ran your hands over the tattoos of the chieftess and eagle across his chest and the roaring tiger that covered his stomach. His arm snaked around your back and unhooked the clasp of your bra before throwing the article on the floor. 
He rolled you off his lap and positioned you so you were now laying down on the couch. He crawled between your legs and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your underwear. 
He stood up and discarded his joggers and briefs before settling back down between your legs. Your hands shot up and covered your face realizing how exposed you now were. 
He reached up and softly grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face.
“Don’t you ever try to hide from me, Darlin.” he said, planting kisses along the backs of each before placing them above your head, securing them in place with his left hand. “I want to see that pretty face as I watch you come undone.” 
He planted another tender kiss upon your lips and watched you react as he ghosted his fingers over your core. 
You let out a shaky breath as he gently slipped a finger inside and fell into a steady rhythm before adding another. You struggled against his grip as his thumb rubbed against your clit. His movements never stopped even as he started planting kisses across your throat and chest.
He took one of your breasts in his mouth. Your head snapped back against the pillow behind you at the added sensation when he bit the sensitive bud of your nipple before soothing the pain with the pad of his tongue. 
With each move his eyes looked up at you, watching as your face contorted with pleasure, letting out shaky breaths and moans from the stimulation. He left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach and he released your hands as he kissed your inner thigh. 
“Oh, Fuck!” You gasped, hands quickly finding their way into his curls as his tongue flicked over your clit before biting and sucking on the bundle of nerves. 
The pleasure in your voice made his dick twitch and flipped a switch in him. He devoured you like a starved man and it drove you over the edge. You felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm build and tighten like a knot in your stomach. You tried to move your hips to match his movement but he firmly held you in place, leaving you writhing under his grasp. 
“Jesse” you whined. 
His name sounded like a prayer on your lips as you grew closer to your climax, and he was there to worship you with his whole being. The knot snapped and your hands tightened their grip through his now tangled curls. But he didn’t stop, continuing his physical praises as the orgasm washed over you like a flood. 
You let out a whimper from the absence as he made his way back up your body and planted another searing kiss against your lips.You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss. 
“Fuck, this is better than I dreamed.” he said with a sigh before kissing you again.
He pulled back, letting out a gasp as he felt your hand reach down between the two of you and grab hold of his cock. You watched as he shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath as your thumb swiped away a bead of precum from the tip. His breathing became sporadic as you worked your way over the sensitive member. 
He had enough of your teasing. You gripped his arms, nail leaving indentations against the tattooed skin as he gently slid the head into your entrance,  pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust before sinking the rest of the way. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed his forehead against yours, eyes locked, as he thrusts faster, harder, deeper.
You moved your hips to match his thrusts as you both chased your highs together. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel that familiar pressure begin to build once more. 
“Look at me, darlin,” he commanded. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.” 
Your eyes snap back open, his words making your eyes almost roll back in added pleasure. His pupils were blown with ecstasy making his light brown eyes almost appear black in the candlelight. He picks up his pace with a grunt. You pull him close, wrapping your arms around his middle, snaking a hand up through his hair, giving a gentle tug as his hips snap into you. 
“Fuck, Jess.” you cry. “I’m so close…”
“Doing so good for me, darlin.” he praises through gritted teeth. 
You moan against his mouth as he slots his lips against yours in another deep kiss. 
White flashes line the edges of your vision as you cry out in pleasure. Jesse buries his face in your neck as he fucks you through your orgasm, his breath shaking as chases his own not long after. 
As your breathing finally returns to normal, he stands up and pads over to the kitchen, taking his added warmth with him. The cool air in the house washes over you despite the storm also knocking out the A/C. He returns a moment later with a clean damp washcloth for the both of you.
He disappears upstairs for a moment before returning dressed in a pair of his briefs like how he usually sleeps with a folded up white t-shirt in his hand.
He motions for you to raise your arm and slips the oversized shirt over your head. It's his favorite shirt with a map of Alabama record stores on the front. 
“Damn, you look good in my shirt.” he states, pulling you up from the couch and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his middle as he holds you close.
A mischievous smile then slides across his face. He bends down and wraps his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder. 
“Goddammit, Jesse!” you exclaim, hitting his lower back with your fists. 
His hand smacked your bare ass peeking out from under the shirt as he carried you up the stairs and into his room. He threw you onto his unmade bed before climbing on after you, pullig you flush against him, and tossing the discarded comforter over your bodies.
He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair. You happily laid like this for a few moments, both of your energy spent from the activities downstairs. 
“Hey, Jess?” you ask. 
“Hmm?” he replies, voice muffled by his face pressed against your neck. 
“You ever wonder if there’s more out there?” You ask, referring back to your unfinished conversation from the other night.
You felt him smile. 
“I used to.” He replied. 
“What changed?” You asked, turning now to face him. 
“I met you.” He replied simply, before pulling him toward you and wrapping his arms around you. 
You rested your head against his chest and snuggled into him further. 
He continued, “Everything I need is right here.”
You lay like this wrapped up in each other’s embrace for the next hour or so before the lull of the moment is broken by the sound of the front door and Noah’s familiar voice breaking through the silence after he stumbles upon the pieces of clothing you had left behind. 
“I fucking knew it!” 
104 notes · View notes
hybridhideoutstory · 2 months ago
Text
CHAPTER 2
Payton could feel themself shifting in their bed, stirring and tossing around. “Woah” they thought in their groggy state. “That was one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had in my life.” They heard knocking on their bedroom door. 
“Oh my gosh.” Payton thought “it’s Sunday. I gotta get ready to see my grandparents. They got up and rushed to the door. “I can’t wait to see grandma and grandpa, wonder what sweets and treasures they have for me this week.” They opened the door and low and behold,
It was Omf, they Young Adult novel hybrid 
“Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the-“
They slammed the door in his face.
They rushed to their bed and grabbed the orange stained pillow from last night’s sobbing session, then promptly screamed bloody murder into it. Of course! This stupid dream was real it was all real! There’s no escape from Lizard boy and his crazy Hybrid shenanigans. They walked back to the door and opened it again to see that Omf was still standing in the doorway as cheery as the when the door was served to him.
He cleared his throat, “Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the tour?”
“I’m ready to kill myself right about now…” 
“NOOO!!! :[! No no no! Look I know this is hard for you but the hideout is gonna be great alright??? You’re gonna be okay a promise!” He peered into Payton’s room and saw a gift basket sitting on their nightstand. He walked in and held it up
“Look! You got some goodies! Isn’t that fun? ,:]”
“I did not say you could enter my room.”
He sat on the ledge of the bed and invited Payton the sit with him. “It’s just a smart idea to have someone who knows things help you go through this, there could be important stuff I here!” He started shuffling through the basket wondering what Payton was given. 
 Payton protested. “Hey that’s my new stuff!” 
“I’m just checking if something is in here. Aha! Yes I found it!” He held out a pamphlet that looked like an advert for a children’s story time at the local library. It was all cutesy with bright colors and “How to Care for Me! A Hybrids’s care book!” Written in rainbow comic sans. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me…”
Payton reluctantly flipped through the pages, which had random care facts that seemed to be answered by someone writing in a pink glitter pen. For example, the pamphlet would ask, “And to eat my hybrid needs…” and Pink Pen would reply with, “No food, No water, Nothing except for paint, if the hybrid loses too much paint the poor thing dies. Just make sure it eats Acrylic and drinks some watercolor so it can be healthy.” 
“Jesus Christ…”
“Hey >:[!”
Payton flipped through even more, each page felt more dehumanizing Than the next, Payton wasn’t vibing with the way Pink Pen referred to them as an “it”.
“For fun my hybrid can do…” “NO WATER!!!! Water will KILL it when the water distills in the paint. Absolutely NO water unless it’s mixed in with watercolor paint. No swimming!!!” 
Payton was on the verge of orange tears again, no swimming, no normal showers, they couldn’t even eat their favorite foods anymore! Omf was constantly over their shoulder trying to absorb the information from the pamphlet. 
“Hey!” He rummaged through Payton’s gifts again. “Whoever sent you all this gave you some paints! If your hungry that is.” 
“You know what?” Payton said trembling. “Fine! You know my life basically screwed now anyway!” Orange started to bead from their eyes. “Might as well drink this, whatever the hell harvest red color is! That’s just what freaks like me need to stay alive haha…!” They uncapped the paint and brought it up to their mouth and started eating. 
Surprisingly, the paint didn’t taste like anything chemical or the sorts. It tasted like crisp apples and cherries, it was delicious. 
“Holy… what the…”
“What’s wrong?” Omf asked
“Nothing it just- tastes good?” 
“Ooo lemme try! :]” Omf Without thinking took Payton precious food and took a swig. He quickly spit is out just as fast as he chugged it. 
“It just tastes like paint!” He cried as he coughed as spat the paint all over Payton’s bed. 
“Ew stop that! Not on my bed! Stop gaging all over my goddamn bed!” 
“I’m sorry :[“ He said. “I’ll just be outside. When your ready for the tour just come outside. He then left Payton alone in their room. 
Payton was left to contemplate more things in their room. Now they wish that had swam in their local pool more often, because they couldn’t do that anymore. Also, why did that paint taste like a delicious combination of fresh red fruit? Does all paint taste like that? Or does the flavor change with each color? They didn’t want to think about any of this at the moment, it was hurting their head. They figured it was best to distract themself from their misfortune.
Payton opened the door. “Okay Lizard boy” they said as if the first Thirty minutes of the day had exhausted them. “What are you going to show me first?” 
Omf perked up, wagging his tail. “O O I CAN SHOW YOU THE ARCADE :]>!!!” He grabbed Payton by the blue hand and sprinted with them to the elevator. “WOAH!” Payton shouted. “SLOW DOWN!” 
Omf practically slammed the poor kid into the elevator wall and clicked one of the big red buttons. The label next to this one saying “arcade”. The two descended, or ascended? Payton couldn’t tell. 
The door dinged at they were in a maze of mechanical marvels. Tons of games and machines of the sort lit up the room. Payton felt they they were in the Dave n Busters headquarters. “Pretty OMFTASTIC huh?” Said omftastic Omf. The two wandered along in the neon paradise for a bit. Payton noticed other kids playing around in the arcade. 
“Who are these kids?” Asked Payton. 
“They’re other hybrids of course silly! Not all hybrids look as hybrid as you y’know. Though most of these guys must be video game hybrids, there’s been a spike of those lately from what I’ve heard.” 
“Woah.” Payton paused. “There can be more than one hybrid of something?” 
“Yeah pretty much.” Omf said. “Human teens are more susceptible to certain demigod possessions. Also kinda depends on the demigod too y’know. Like for example, I don’t think the one that got you is very fond of hybrids. That explains why your the only one of your kind.”
“Wow. I feel so special.” Payton said sarcastically. 
“Hey don’t be like that…we still don’t know what your fully capable of.” 
Payton scoffed. “What could paint to anyway? Make whatever I paint come to life?”
“Hmmm” Omf scratched his beard, or what can barely be considered a beard. “That sounds possible, but not really effective in combat.” 
“Gee, thanks.” 
Suddenly a kid popped up from behind Payton and tried to whack the living color out of them with a cheap plastic sword that was so amazing that the green light started to die. 
“Hey!” Omf shouted. “What is wrong with you? >:[!”
“Level up!” Said the kid before he ran off he spoke like he was trapped in a PlayStation 1, but other than that he damn near looked exactly human. 
Payton got up grasping their head. “God… what, what was that.”
“You just got hit in the head by one of the kids.”
“Oh so he thinks he’s hot stuff?” Payton claimed in a daze. “Well what’s his stick gonna do against a gun? God I wish I had a gun.” 
“Okay… maybe we should move on to the next part of the tour…” Omf picked Payton up by the shoulders and took them to the elevator. 
The elevator dinged. “This is our next stop!” Omf said cheerily. “It’s my favorite:]!” Payton observed that they were in a training Dojo. There were dummies and weapons all over the place. Omf picked up a sword from one of the racks. He sighed dreamily as he looked around and sniffed the air with his lizard nose as if he was on a hiking trip to the great glorious outdoors. “Awesome ain’t it?”
“No” Payton responded flatly.
“>:0! Uh well your gonna be spending a lot of time here Pay Pay, after all, Luna said your gonna be on patrol! Which means you have to train with me! And I’m gonna be the best trainer you’ve ever seen got it?”
“ ‘Kay” 
“I- uh oh…” Omf sounded defeated but he didn’t push Payton any further. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere else now.” 
When Payton and Omf got off the elevator again, they were In a massive movie theatre. “This is the hideout movie theatre!” Omf exclaimed. “Since hybrids can’t really go out and see the latest stuff, we ask the demigod of cinema to supply us with all the all the latest films. Plus you can basically ask for any movie one night and they’ll play it for you in the theatre. It’s awesome, and all the snacks… are free…. >:].” 
Payton was amazed. Now THIS was something they could vibe with. Imagine all the sick film dates they could take Lynn on. Or all the dumb comedies they could watch with their friends. Just how many memories they could make with their friends. Oh right, they could never talk to them again. 
“Uh… this is neat I guess. I’ve been meaning to see that new My girlfriend is a goth Vampire movie… I was… gonna watch it with my girlfriend.” 
“Oh… :D.” Omf suddenly realized the pain in Payton’s voice. “I’m- so sorry.”
“It’s alright I guess, I suppose you miss your friends and family right?” 
“Well- erm, uh…” 
Suddenly a bell rung through the through the entire building. A voice on PA system rung out. “Good evening residents of the Hypnos Hideout, United States. As of this moment the cafeteria will be serving lunches. Have a good afternoon.” 
“Welp!” Omf said, losing his previous train of thought. “It’s lunch time! Uh- don’t worry I’m sure they’ve made accommodations to the menu for you Pay Pay! Come on let’s go! :D” 
When the go to the cafeteria floor, it looked like one of those food courts you’d find in a mall. The room was decked out with star shaped lights, moons and dreamy clouds. It looked more like nap time than lunch time. Teenagers and adults gathered in tables. Some of them looked like normal humans. Except maybe their eyes were an odd color. Some of them had horns, some had tails, some had big feathery wings, some looked like cyborgs. They all varied table by table. It was odd seeing all these people, Payton could feel some glares of the other kids. They passed by a group of what mainly consisted of girls, “O M G, who’s the freak with Mr protagonist over there?” The whole table had kids with small pink horns, some of them had pretty pink wings. 
“Don’t listen to them Pay Pay,” Omf said quietly. Those are the drama hybrids, they’ll try to get under your skin. Just try to ignore them. Let’s get you some food. It should be at the accommodations booth.” 
They walked up to the booth together. Omf stepped up “Hey um, we were wondering if you had any Paint, for Payton Varro?” The dude behind the counter sighed and reluctantly gave a palette of the six basic colors, and a cup of green watercolor paint. He looked as if the same breed of magic night creature as Luna. Omf got a strawberry treat from another stand. 
Payton took some scoops of paint from the pallet with a spoon. None of these were as flavorful as the harvest red they tried that morning and the watercolor paint just tasted like water, but it was doable. The pair wondered the room looking for a place to sit until Payton spotted a round table in a corner. 
“Bingo!” they said “let’s sit here to avoid those stupid drama girls, don’t worry this works at school all the time lizard boy, just sit in the corner to get away from whatever bull is going on.” 
“Uh… Payton.” Omf said wearily. “I don’t think you should be sitting there…” 
“Why not?” They retorted. “No one’s sitting here!” 
“Yeah well… she usually sits there. I don’t think that’s a good seat, let’s go somewhere else :[.” 
“And be bullied by some pink weirdoes? I’ll pass.”
Suddenly Omf stiffened up. “Payton… Payton she’s right behind you. Get out of there now.” 
“Oh what? Is some big ugly monster behind me? Yeah rig-.”
BAM
Someone had hit the table square in the center. The table was completely destroyed and Payton’s food had gotten everywhere. They stumbled and landed on the floor by Omf’s feet. 
“WHO YOU CALLEN MONSTER, COLOR GIRL?” Bellowed one of the largest hybrids in the hideout. She stood about six and a half feet tall, she was a large girl, but she was only 15. She had two horns on her head, but one was bent and contorted. She had a large maroon tail, but some of it was wrapped in bandages. She wore a purple leather jacket with spikes on her shoulders, the shirt under it was black with a skull on it. She wore chains around her wrist and neck. Like she was a rabid dog who had to be contained. Her hair was the color of a burning fire. The look In her eyes said, “I’m gonna kill somebody today.” 
“HEY >:[!” Omf protested. “Payton is NOT a girl,  and they didn’t know you said there Pattie! They’re new! Cut the poor pal some slack!” 
Pattie picked payton up by their head as if they were a rag doll. “Look, Dragon guy, I see a punk in my seat, they get kicked out.” She tossed Payton across the cafeteria with full force. All the hybrids saw them flying though the air. Payton hit the wall at full force, and fell to the ground. 
“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” Omf cried out. 
“Nothin, kid just looked really throwable.” 
Payton groaned on the floor, they had no idea on how none of their bones were broken. They looked over at where Pattie and Omf were standing. They used all the force in their body to stand up. 
“Ooo!” Said one of the drama hybrids from the corner of the room. “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” 
Suddenly all the hybrids were calling for a fight. Chanting the word over and over, which gave Pattie an unnecessary strike of confidence. 
“Well!” She turned to Omf Smugly. “I guess everyone here wants to see a fight, hm?” She cracked her knuckles. “I guess I gotta give them the beat down of a lifetime.”
The moment Payton heard that they knew they had to be screwed. I mean, this girl stood over a foot taller than them at it looked like she ate weights for breakfast. Plus, they had no clue on how to fight. Maybe they should’ve trained with Omf for a bit. All they knew was that they did not want to get hit by this girl. 
She charged toward Payton like an angry bull. Omf was petrified. All of the other hybrids stood on in curiosity and awe. As Payton watched her get closer, they saw the fist about to land on them. They flinched, closed their eyes, and prepared for the worst. 
BONK!
“WHAT?” Shouted Pattie.
BONK!
BANG!
“WHAT IS THIS?” 
Payton was just as confused as Pattie. They slowly opened their eyes. None of Pattie’s punches had actually landed, but why? Payton looked down at their hands. They had fused together, forming a teal color. They weren’t shaped like hands anymore, instead their hands had formed a giant shield. 
BANG!
BONK!
“HEY LOSER! STOP HIDING BEHIND THAT SHIELD AND FIGHT ME!” 
BANG!
“:0” said Omf. “PAYTON!!! :D! LOOK AT WHAT YOUR DOING!!! THAT’S INCREDIBLE!” He shouted, he really wanted Payton to know he had their back.
Suddenly an idea crossed their mind, they morphed the shield into two big teal boxing gloves on their hands. While Pattie was in shock from the sudden change, they wound up and hit her square in the gut. She crouched over in pain. 
“YES!” Payton shouted. They looked at Omf with a proud smile on their face. “Hah! I did it!” 
Omf didn’t look as convinced. 
WHACK!
Just like that, Payton was out cold
When Payton opened their eyes, they were in the infirmary again, this time Pattie was laying on the bed next to them. At their feet stood a doctor, poor Omf, and a VERY angry Luna. 
“So.” She said in a very disapproving tone. “I hope you two are proud of the commotion you caused today. Because we need to replace a wall.” 
Then flew the accusations of “she/they started it!” But Luna wasn’t hearing any of that. “The two of you,” she said sternly. A day of washing dishes together, and I’m only being generous because Payton is new. Omf, watch over them for me.” 
“Yes ma’am…” Omf said wearily. 
Luna walked out of the room. 
The doctor kid spoke up, he was another one of the purple folk who helped around the hideout, he looked more like a lamb with his hair looking like a lavender puffball on his head, “uhh, the good news is that none of you got any major injuries. You two will be fine in like an hour” 
“Thanks Puff.” Omf sounded defeated.
“Hey no problem and,” he placed his and on Omf’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. It was out of your control.” 
Omf sighed. “Okay :[…” 
Payton shifted in the bed. Today was a mess, and it was all their fault. They wanted more than anything to just go home and get out of this crazy nightmare, to be a normal human again. They were getting sick of the nonsense. 
“Hey,” 
Payton turned to see the voice came from Pattie. “What…?” 
“Your kinda alright kid, I’m sorry for tossin’ you like that.” 
“I’m sorry for hitting you like that…” 
“Eh, it happens. Sometime you just gotta hit somebody y’know.” 
“Eh…”
Omf interjected “Well I think we shouldn’t of fought each other >:[! That wasn’t very nice of either of you!”
“We’re sorry” the both of them said. 
“Well you should be! Now you two get some rest, you have dishes to get to tomorrow.”
<<PREV (you are here) NEXT>>
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months ago
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Book Report: Royal Audience
Welcome to another semi-recurring feature, where I read the royal books so you don’t have to.
A new royal book has recently been published. This one I found at my library in the “new books”/“this just in” section.
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It’s about the Special Relationship between the US and the UK, focusing mainly on The Queen’s relationship with the POTUS.
There’s a lot of history and international politics discussed, but I found it an easy, enjoyable read. I do wish the photographs had been in color instead of black and white so it’d be easier to see the details, which are often discussed in the text. One thing that quickly became clear while reading is that of the men whom are considered The Queen’s favorites, the only thing they all have in common is that they gave attention to and supported the whole family at-large, like hosting Charles or Anne, being friendly with Margaret, giving opportunities for Philip to visit solo, etc. The POTUSes that just gave attention to The Queen and Philip weren’t as successful as nurturing the Special Relationship.
So without further ado, anecdotes about The Queen’s Presidents:
Hoover: The Queen never formally met him “in office,” but she sat next to him at dinner once in the ‘50s.
Wilson: The Queen never met him but he did visit George V at Windsor Castle (the first POTUS invited to Windsor) and that visit set the tone for many of the POTUSes’ visits to The Queen.
FDR: Another POTUS that The Queen never met, but her parents did. George VI and the Queen Mother were the first reigning monarchs to visit the US in 1939 and it was a smashing success. While the Americans have always had an affinity for the BRF, it was this tour (in which FDR and Eleanor served the royals their first hot dogs) that cemented how much Americans supported, or would show up for, the royals if/when they came to visit:
As the Washington Post once wrote, “She’s not our queen but before we’re through with her, she’ll probably think she is” and as Obama once quipped to Charles: “it’s fair to say that the American people are quite fond of the royal family…they like them much better than they like their own politicians.”
Truman was POTUS when Elizabeth and Philip had their first official tour of the US in October 1951 as Duchess and Duke of Edinburgh. The trip, conducted as part of a visit to Canada, was delayed due to King George’s lung surgery and resulted in Elizabeth and Philip taking the BRF’s first international flight. Apparently everyone was so nervous about the flight that the Royal Navy deployed battleships every 700 nautical miles across the Atlantic just in case. By taking the flight, the royals were only a week behind schedule and they sailed home with 97 pieces of luggage.
Eisenhower: the Eisenhower were considered family friends by the royals. He remains the only POTUS to be invited to Balmoral and Elizabeth sent him her personal recipe for drop scones which - yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus - is published in the book, for all you home bakers. The Queen made her first state visit to the US under Eisenhower coinciding with the 350th anniversary of the Jamestown Colony (a trip Her Majesty would repeat 50 years later for the 400th anniversary and made me late to school but that’s another story for later). This state visit is what finally knocked Sputnik off the American front pages.
Kennedy: If you watched the Kennedy episodes of The Crown’s Season 2, you can skip this chapter. Kennedy once met a young Princess Elizabeth though, when his father was the US ambassador.
Johnson: The Queen never met Johnson in person. LBJ didn’t like traveling and preferred to focus on domestic affairs and Vietnam. But Princess Margaret did meet LBJ while on a visit to the US, which is also chronicled on The Crown, which the author takes great pains to mention is fiction because Margaret and LBJ never actually did kiss 🙄. LBJ and The Queen were friendly in letters though.
Nixon: hosted The Queen’s very first Thanksgiving dinner when he visited London in November 1958 (while Eisenhower’s VP) to open the American Memorial Chapel at St. Paul’s Cathedral. The Queen’s acceptance of the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner caused such a consternation because Nixon hadn’t lacked a tuxedo that all the men in the American delegation who had traveled with him and worked at the embassy were measured to find someone from whom Nixon could borrow a tuxedo. Nixon’s visit to Buckingham Palace in February 1969 was the first time that color film was used at the palace.
Ford: hosted The Queen and Philip during the US’s bicentennial celebrations. It is considered to be one of The Queen’s most successful visits/tours. The tour was in July 1976 and if you know East Coast summer weather, you have an idea already what the weather was like. First there were rough seas that made even Philip seasick (they flew from London to Bermuda, then sailed on Britannia from Bermuda to Philly). Then there was humid muggy heat in Philly that The Queen was fanning herself often. And then in DC, it was even swampier with daytime temps of 100F in the shade. The bicentennial visit later became the theme of The Queen’s 1976 Christmas message - reconciliation.
Carter: Carter was the POTUS most considered to be The Queen’s peer since they were closest in age, and that’s about the only thing they had in common. He horribly offended The Queen Mother by kissing her at the G7, hosted Princess Anne on her first solo trip to the US (wherein she shocked the press by being more like Philip in her temperament than The Queen), and personally lobbied Westminster Abbey to include his favorite poet - Dylan Thomas - in Poets Corner. His wife, Rosalyn, is the only FLOTUS The Queen didn’t meet.
Reagan: After Eisenhower, probably the POTUS The Queen was closest to, over their shared love of horses. Their relationship reminds me of the classic “introvert adopted by extroverts” trope (albeit in its own unique way). The Reagans’ first trip to the UK was chaotic in its planning with offenses left and right that made Margaret Thatcher reel. Charles and Nancy had a wonderful relationship and were close for the rest of her life.
Bush 41: Bush (another peer who of similar demographics to The Queen; they were just a few years apart in age, he served in WW2 with a career that reminded her of Philip’s, each had four surviving children, their eldest sons were relatively the same age) was favorite POTUS #3 after Eisenhower and Reagan. The relationship started off rocky, but it was Pickles - a puppy from the Bushes’ dog given to a friend whom The Queen had visited - that smoothed everything over and the two couples got along well. The Queen’s official visit under Bush 41 began with the infamous ‘talking hat’ speech and saw her take in her first baseball game. It was proposed that Philip should throw the first pitch out but The Queen nixed it, though she did join Bush for a little walkabout on the field before the game started. (Boo. I would’ve rather liked to see Philip throw the first pitch. I bet he’d have thrown a strike without any practice.)
Clinton: Clinton prioritized the relationship with Blair more than with The Queen, which ended up salvaging the Special Relationship after Blair’s predecessor (John Major) practically blew it up by getting involved in the 1992 POTUS election when he/his government campaigned for Bush. But Clinton came around to The Queen in the end. Clinton is notably the first president who was younger than The Queen and I suspect his presidency marked a change in how The Queen approached the special relationship.
And also, there’s a very good chance that this chapter illustrates Meghan’s obsession with Hillary Clinton - Diana and Hillary had a good enough friendship, even if only a working relationship, that Diana co-chaired a White House breakfast with Hillary. The book also points out that much of Diana’s post-BRF work in the US took place in the Clinton administration, so now I’m wondering if perhaps Meghan sees the Clintons as a partial extension of Diana’s network and that’s why she tries so hard with Hillary. (And also there’s the obvious that Hillary knew/met Diana so maybe Meghan has been trying to court Hillary to be part of the “Meghan is just like Diana” fan club.)
Bush 43: had the first official full state visit of The Queen’s reign, which was also only the second state visit by a US President (Wilson in 1918). There were significant security concerns due to the War on Terror and this is also when the Daily Mail’s reporter was a footman for 2 months; the reporter broke his own cover to report on the state visit. The Queen had her final state visit to the US in May 2007 as part of the celebrations for the 400th anniversary of Jamestown. (Her visit was the unofficial kickoff to the official celebrations, which began the week after.)
I didn’t know this, but The Queen personally donated a significant sum to the 9/11 memorial funds. Also The Queen enjoys Mexican food. A lady after my own heart!
Obama: Obama’s relationship with Britain began cool, owing to family tragedy closely connected with British colonialism in Kenya. He and the PM at the time, Brown, didn’t seem to get on, but The Queen stepped in and it’s thought her gentleness with the Obamas is what softened Obama’s consideration of the British. I do believe that Obama was the first head of state to see The Queen as more a grandmotherly figure and that helped boost The Queen’s global reputation (Bush 43 and Clinton saw her as motherly, and everyone through Bush 41 saw her as a contemporary/peer).
In the epilogue, the author writes that he believes Obama was favorite POTUS #4. I think the Obamas had a special friendship with The Queen, but sometimes I feel like it was more of mentorship, with The Queen showing them a generous kindness they weren’t expecting that led to both of them learning from her what it means to be diplomatic without losing sense of themselves.
Trump: His working visit in 2018 and the state visit in 2019 both were preceded by chaos and politics. A lot of people looked to The Queen’s symbolism in her outfits for how she felt about him. Trump held The Queen in high esteem, which she seemed to reciprocate diplomatically, but he had waffling views on Britain itself and that seemed to affect how the Special Relationship was managed (ie one day they were allies, the next day, Trump was assailing the mayor of London on Twitter).
Biden: No one quite knew what to do with him. He had proud Irish heritage so everyone thought he wouldn’t regard Britain well, but at the same time, Biden was outspoken against Brexit and Boris Johnson, which aligned with mainstream feelings of the day, so they weren’t sure how the wind was going to blow. But the Special Relationship prevailed, with Biden in a unique position that saw him speaking more about the generosity and the humanity of The Queen given what was happening to her - first the COVID protocols, then Oprah interview, then Philip’s passing, then her own illness.
(Biden is in the “Queen as motherly” club with Clinton and Bush 43.)
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novelswithariana · 1 year ago
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🌸 ARIANA'S BOOK REVIEW 🌸
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⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5
Genre: Young Adult, Romance, Contemporary, LGBT (Ace Representation)
📚 Synopsis: Now that Wren Martin is student council president (on a technicality, but hey, it counts) he’s going to fix Rapture High. His first order of business: abolish the school’s annual Valentine’s Day Dance, a drain on the school’s resources and general social nightmare—especially when you’re asexual.
His greatest opponent: Leo Reyes, vice president and all-around annoyingly perfect student, who has a solution to Wren’s budget problem. A sponsorship from Buddy, the anonymous “not a dating” app sweeping the nation. Now instead of a dance-less senior year, Wren is in charge of the biggest dance Rapture High has ever seen. He’s even secretly signed up for the app. For research, of course.
But when Wren develops capital F-Feelings for his anonymous match, things spiral out of control. Wren decided a long time ago that dating while asexual wasn’t worth the hassle. With the Dance rapidly approaching, he isn’t sure what will kill him first: the dance, his relationship drama, or the growing realization that Leo’s perfect life might not be so perfect after all.
In an unforgettably quippy and endearingly chaotic voice, narrator Wren Martin explores the complexities of falling in love while asexual.
📝 Review: I recently had the pleasure of diving into the captivating world of "Wren Martin Ruins It All" by Amanda Dewitt, and I must say, it did not disappoint. From the very first page, I was hooked by Dewitt's impeccable storytelling and relatable characters.
In this delightful novel, we follow the journey of Wren Martin, the witty and ambitious student council president of Rapture High. Wren's mission to abolish the infamously dreaded Valentine's Day Dance at his school sets the stage for a series of hilarious mishaps and unexpected romantic entanglements. But "Wren Martin Ruins It All" is so much more than a comedic high school romance.
Dewitt skillfully weaves in the complexities of love, relationships, and the journey of self-discovery. One of the standout aspects of this book is its refreshing portrayal of asexuality. Wren's exploration and acceptance of his identity as an asexual individual is thoughtfully depicted, shedding light on a topic that is often misunderstood or overlooked.
What truly sets "Wren Martin Ruins It All" apart is the authenticity of its characters. Dewitt has created a diverse cast that is brimming with personality and relatability. From the charming Leo, Wren's vice president, to the quirky and lovable members of the student council, each character feels like someone you could know in real life.
The writing style employed by Dewitt is energetic, humorous, and infused with heart. The pacing is spot on, keeping the reader engaged and eagerly turning the pages. Whether it's the witty banter between characters or the tender moments of self-reflection, the prose effortlessly captures the essence of each scene.
At its core, "Wren Martin Ruins It All" is a story about embracing who you truly are, navigating the highs and lows of teenage life, and learning that sometimes, it's okay to let go and allow yourself to be vulnerable. It's a powerful and heartwarming reminder that love takes many forms, and self-discovery is a journey worth embarking on.
Overall, I highly recommend "Wren Martin Ruins It All" to anyone in search of a captivating and relatable read. Amanda Dewitt has crafted a gem of a novel that seamlessly combines humor, romance, and important themes, leaving a lasting impression. Don't miss out on this delightful book that will make you laugh, swoon, and maybe even shed a tear or two.
🔍 Rec: People who have read ‘The Borrow A Boyfriend Club’ (Page Powars), ‘They Hate Each Other’ (Amanda Woody) and ‘Gwen & Art Are Not In Love’ (Lex Croucher) may like this book.
Thank you Amanda DeWitt, Peachtree Teen and Colored Pages Book Tours for this delightful read. All opinions expressed here are purely my own.
🦋 Recommend some books with Ace Representation in the comments.
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whimsicaldragonette · 2 years ago
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Blog Tour and Arc Review: The Buried and the Bound by Rochelle Hassan
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Welcome to my stop on the Buried and the Bound book tour with Colored Pages Blog Tours. (This blog tour is also posted on my Wordpress book blog Whimsical Dragonette.)
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Tour Schedule
Book Info:
TITLE: The Buried and the Bound AUTHOR: Rochelle HassanPUBLISHER: Roaring Press Books RELEASE DATE: January 24, 2023 GENRES: YA Fantasy PAGES: 384 REPRESENTATION: BIPOC, Queer
Click "read more" for buy links, synopsis, author info, my review, and favorite quotes.
Goodreads
Blackwells
Amazon
Book Depository
Barnes & Noble
Synopsis:
As the only hedgewitch in Blackthorn, Massachusetts—an uncommonly magical place—Aziza El-Amin has bargained with wood nymphs, rescued palm-sized fairies from house cats, banished flesh-eating shadows from the local park. But when a dark entity awakens in the forest outside of town, eroding the invisible boundary between the human world and fairyland, run-of-the-mill fae mischief turns into outright aggression, and the danger—to herself and others—becomes too great for her to handle alone.
Leo Merritt is no stranger to magical catastrophes. On his sixteenth birthday, a dormant curse kicked in and ripped away all his memories of his true love. A miserable year has passed since then. He's road-tripped up and down the East Coast looking for a way to get his memories back and hit one dead end after another. He doesn't even know his true love's name, but he feels the absence in his life, and it's haunting.
Desperate for answers, he makes a pact with Aziza: he’ll provide much-needed backup on her nightly patrols, and in exchange, she’ll help him break the curse.
When the creature in the woods sets its sights on them, their survival depends on the aid of a mysterious young necromancer they’re not certain they can trust. But they’ll have to work together to eradicate the new threat and take back their hometown… even if it forces them to uncover deeply buried secrets and make devastating sacrifices.
Author Bio:
Rochelle Hassan grew up reading about dragons, quests, and unlikely heroes; now she writes about them, too. She is the author of the middle-grade novel The Prince of Nowhere and young adult fantasy novel, The Buried and the Bound. She lives in New York
Goodreads
Website
Instagram
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My Rating: ★★★★★
My Review:
This was phenomenal! It was just the right amount of dark for me - full of creeping dread and a constant level of darkness that you don't usually find in fantasy books. Like a Sabriel level of darkness. There were plot twists upon plot twists, and always revealed at the exact right time to make an impact and change the direction of the plot. And while the groundwork was carefully laid, several of them took me by surprise.
I never felt like the plot was forced into the 'standard' YA formula. I was dreading a typical love triangle and am so relieved that this is not that at all. In fact I love this, the bonds between each of the characters, the secrets and the trust. I have become used to checking the percentage on my kindle as a way to gauge what will happen next - but that didn't work here. The story shifted and changed and breathlessly barreled towards the end without ever letting up or falling into the standard back and forth I am used to. I loved it and I couldn't tear myself away.
I LOVED the characters. Aziza is practical and competent and I loved seeing her grow as a hedgewitch. Leo was warm and caring and it hurt to see the effects of the curse on him. Tristan was desperate and in a lot of pain and I really felt for him. I loved how their lives slowly twined together as the story progressed, and how three seeming strangers became inseperable and bound together. I can't wait to see where the next installment takes them.
I love how the story explored the boundaries and margins of things. The way Leo fought constantly against the edges of his curse. The practicalities and difficulties of Tristan being homeless. The way Aziza spent her time protecting the boundary between Blackthorn and Elfhame. The way the hag pushed up against both of those and was neither. The boundaries between love and friendship and trust and curses and lies.
The darkness was all-encompassing and weighed on everything, but there was just enough light to counter it that it never felt too oppressive or too much.
The writing was gorgeous. It was absolutely perfect for the story, and there were phrases that really stood out to me and stuck with me because of how beautiful they were. Darkly beautiful, but beautiful all the same.
I am SO glad it's going to have a sequel(s) because I don't want to leave this world or these characters and there is so much more to be discovered.
I would recommend this to people who enjoyed Garth Nix's Old Kingdom books (Sabriel), Libba Bray's Great and Terrible Beauty trilogy, Holly Black's Cruel Prince trilogy and Darkest Part of the Forest, Margaret Rogerson's Vespertine, Lynn Flewelling's Nightrunner series, and maybe also Melissa Marr's Wicked Lovely series. Stories of magic and darkness and terrifying, creeping evil and traditional fae and characters who are determined and hold just enough light to counter the darkness of their worlds.
*Thanks to NetGalley, Macmillan Children's and Colored Pages Blog Tours for providing an early copy for review.
Favorite Quotes:
Even on four legs, it was taller than either of them and broader than the two of them combined: a wolf blacker than black, as dark as the space between the end of a dream and the moment of waking.
---
Her roots weren’t there; they were here in Blackthorn, not only because she’d been born here, not only because her parents had chosen it, but because it had chosen her. And Aziza chose it back. That was how you made a place your home: You put work into it. You carved out a role for yourself. You made yourself belong even if you weren’t sure you did.
---
If they could’ve cut him up into pieces and kept only the parts they found acceptable, they would’ve done it in a heartbeat. No, they hadn’t loved him. They hadn’t even liked him.
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Leo’s car was a bucket of rust held together with duct tape and hope. It whined, it groaned, it sputtered threateningly anytime Leo turned left — but as Leo put what must have been all his weight on the pedal and the car lurched into motion, it was a chariot of the fucking gods.
---
She sounded calm, and she felt it, too, the cool practicality that came of being in a situation that was so completely fucked that your mind tricked itself into not being afraid — like cold that was so cold it burned. Fear that ran so deep it became bravery.
---
Overhead, the forest canopy dropped off suddenly, and the night sky gaped down like an audience, silent and breathless.
---
He knew better than most people that Blackthorn was ugly and dangerous sometimes, and its magic was ugly and dangerous sometimes, but the ugly parts of Blackthorn had a right to exist too.
---
Dawn broke sluggishly, with a first sliver of sun like the horizon cracking open an orange eye.
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jymwahuwu · 2 years ago
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You've done yandere Tighnari and yandere Cyno.
But what about a yandere Alhaitham?
glad you asked!! 🥺 i do have an idea for this, but haven't been writing about it before - sharing my thoughts on yandere alhaitham and kaveh now (yes, i love writing about them both)
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tw: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, abuse of power
"Once order is disrupted, the consequences spread like wildfire. I’d like to avoid such a scenario, so I can keep my life intact and uninterrupted."
Alhaitham took part in a revolution to replace the grand sage, resulting in Sumeru's regime returning to the God of Wisdom, and he became interim head of state (reluctantly). And all this just for his peace daily life💀 So, imagine what happens when Alhaitham finds out that you are an unstable factor in his life.
Alhaitham found that he had to spend an extra twenty minutes a day observing you, and another half hour thinking about you. (He already has all the information on you…you are very easy to understand, but also the most difficult to understand.) He doesn't like this kind of unexpected thing. Perhaps the bards in Mondstadt would have had an understanding of this ethereal experience, but everyone in Akademiya knew that Sumeru's literary studies and poetry were not popular.
He decided to solve it in a simple way. He is the acting grand sage now, in other words, the person who is actually in charge of the country's decisions, so there is no difficulty in implementing them. Here's a paperwork explaining your disappearance, you're just traveling somewhere else. Not to mention, you don't have any defenses about what you're drinking. Um, the location of the property, which he was always happy with, was indeed a problem - it was too close to Akademiya, General Mahamatra might notice you, so the soundproofing was updated.
Alhaitham is an educated, decent, civilized man, so he even asks for your opinion - and you reply with some confusion, oh, tour, if you get the chance, you can take it. You choose one of several new traps invented by Kshahrewar, say it's a nice color, you don't know it will be used to lock you later though.
At the beginning, Alhaitham just wanted to keep you at home, like bringing home those roadside pigeons, so that he could observe you at any time. He will provide you with three meals, and even generously have afternoon tea, new clothes, and books. He doesn't have any erotic thoughts. However, Kaveh changed that.
Kaveh sees you trying in vain to unlock the house. It was a strange sight. (Alhaitham allows you to do this because everyone has the right to use their intelligence.) He's shocked and confused by what happened - like, is this what he thought? His roommate locked someone up? Kaveh tries to explain to Alhaitham that it's wrong to lock someone up like this, but ends up not discussing it and living with the two of you.
Gradually, you can't help but seek comfort from Kaveh, the architect who often cares about you. He brings you some desserts and is willing to hear your complaints about Alhaitham. On the weekend, Kaveh wanted to go drink with some architect friends, but stayed home after hearing your tearful plea (“Please… please don’t go, don’t leave me at home….”)
What broke this kind of life was that one day, Kaveh held your cheeks and gave you a breathless, long forced kiss. His tongue twirled in your mouth, his long fingers rubbed against your private parts. Your struggles and panics are not fully understood. Alhaitham was flipping the pages of a book on the couch, watching you being forced to kiss and fingering…and then he pressed on to you. The sound of wet slapping and sobbing echoed loudly in the living room.
Maybe, he should try this?
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mkllpz · 24 days ago
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DECEMBER 2024
I've written quite long year-in-reviews for the past two years (2022, 2023), but this year's y-i-r will be much shorter since I've mostly focused on one project.
The Hermes
That one project is The Hermes, my adventure book with the amazing Tim Fischer. I posted some early concept art for it at the very end of last year's y-i-r, and I recently posted some more concept art of some supporting characters. We're at the halfway point now, and the preliminary relased date for the French edition (published by Kinaye) is set for fall of 2025 (the English-language publisher still to be determined). Really looking forward to everyone finally getting to read this next year!
● The Hermes
▼ A panel from The Hermes by Tim Fischer ▼
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▼ An unlettered page from The Hermes by Tim Fischer ▼
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▼ A color test for The Hermes by Tim Fischer ▼
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Book of Fuligin
Book of Fuligin, the Book of the New Sun anthology which includes my horror story "A Column of Ashes" (a collaboration with H. Berlin), was crowdfunded early last year, and it was finally printed and sent to backers this year. A few copies are available in the Strangers shop.
● "A Column of Ashes"
▼ The cover to Book of Fuligin by Artyom Trakhanov ▼
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▼ A page from "A Column of Ashes" by H. Berlin ▼
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The Cult of Dreams
Oscar Westberg/@gudgurkan ran a crowdfunding campaign for his illustrated "fantasy journal" The Cult of Dreams which I had the privilege of editing. The campaign raised 800% of its initial goal and is available to buy here. Highly recommended!
▼ The cover of The Cult of Dreams by Oscar Westberg ▼
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▼ The first page of The Cult of Dreams by Oscar Westberg ▼
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Peow2
Peow "came back from heaven to do overtime" as Peow2 earlier this year, releasing four new books and reprinting a handful of titles, three of which I was involved with as assistant editor: Soft: Director's Cut, Dreaming in Color, and Ex.Mag V: Bloodsucker. I've (assistant) edited 13 books for Peow so far, and I hope to get to add more to that list in the future.
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Conventions
I went to 12 conventions/markets this year, including my first convention outside of Sweden, Oslo Comics Expo (Norway), which was held in a tent in front of a library. I sold out everything I brought with me to Oslo – Norwegians really love comics. Next year I'll try to go to Copenhagen Comics (Denmark) and Helsinki Comics Festival (Finland) as well, completing my tour of the four big Nordic conventions.
I'd hoped to announce my next book and collaborator at the end of this year, but I can't do that quite yet. Hopefully very soon!
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noisyquokka · 1 year ago
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Bro you write Felix so well! I have an idea for a request if you're willing ^^
He buys the reader flowers a lot and keeps one from each bouquet so he knows when the rest are dying and he can buy them more! It doesn't have to be boyfriend!felix, I'll leave that up to you! Just something super cute and wholesome, love that!!
A Lesson in Gift-Giving
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PAIRING - Felix x GN!Reader
SYNOPSIS - Sometimes gift-giving doesn't go as smooth as you plan. Felix realizes the error of his ways after months away on tour.
WORDCOUNT - 2.5k
WARNINGS - Fluff, humor, newly-established relationship, which means there's a little miscommunication, but we get through it like champs ✊🏻
A/N - I love this idea so much! Got a little inspo just from your request, which I added in, hope you don't mind 😅 Wrote it as bf!Felix just cause it's a vibe.
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"This is... definitely not getting out of hand."
You mutter these words to yourself as you stare down the latest delivery of fresh cut flowers sitting on your kitchen counter. Pink and white mini-carnations stare back at you in all their ruffled-petal glory, their sweet scent wafting through your personal space. The handwritten note between your fingers is cheesy and adorable; so very Felix. You scratch the side of your head in bemusement.
Most would say such a reaction to a bouquet of flowers was rude, considering it came from your boyfriend. But as you sit here amongst the variety of florals in your home, you think you've had enough to sustain you for the rest of the year.
It all began with one trip to a local Flea Market. You had stepped inside one of the mini shops on the way out only to catch the dashing white orchids in their pot on the shelf. Felix had offered to buy them for you as a little gift, and with hearts in your eyes, you had accepted. You stare at it now - a glorious centerpiece of four months that is absolutely thriving in its own right.
Then came the fresh cut peonies.
You were over the moon when Felix had surprised you with the first bouquet two weeks later, but you never could've imagined the deluge of flowers that would follow like clockwork. And you accepted all of them with the utmost gratitude. You'd also developed an odd relationship with the delivery guy over time; saying nothing verbally, but everything with the great art of facial miming, if that was even a thing.
The only thing about such a gift is that your place was beginning to look less like a home and more like a florist's shop. Your kitchen island not only held your thriving orchid display, but those same lush peonies, now dried in hues of dusty pinks. As your collection of flowers grew, so did your creativity. The flourishing arrangement of blooms that you had gotten for your four month anniversary had been carefully pressed between paper-towel-lined book pages for roughly two weeks before you were able to proudly display them in the frame above your bed.
It's safe to say you've turned just about every blank space in your home into a floral oasis over the last few months.
What was supposed to be a simple, romantic gesture was quickly derailing. Only problem was you had to be the one to stop it. After being with Felix for six months, you'd think such a simple conversation would be... well, simple. And yet, you stand here in a state of blooming panic.
A knock at the door brings you back to your current predicament. Your fingers twitch around the cardstock, crumpling the edge as your feet move in short strides toward the entrance. You're half expecting the delivery guy again, but as you swing the door open, you're even more surprised to find your boyfriend standing there with a smile that rivals the sun and-
"More flowers...!"
They're Dahlias this time - an arrangement of small but vibrant Orange Button blooms that compliment their larger, blushing Café au Lait companions. The contrast between them in both size and color is stunning; warm candle flames licking at the edges of whimsical ivory bones.
"Special delivery!" Felix's bubbly voice sets your heart in motion, and although you're seeing flower petals behind your eyelids, you can't help but smile at the cellophane-wrapped bouquet in his hand. A tote bag hangs off his other arm, filled to the brim with you can only guess what.
"Felix!?" You shake your head but lunge at him with open arms, a mix of confusion and excitement crossing your face. "Tour doesn't end for another three days. What are you doing here?"
"Last stop was canceled so I pulled some strings and caught a red-eye." He murmurs, burying his nose into your scalp. You feel him sink into your touch, a deep release of breath that says he's happy to be back home. God, did he miss you.
You pull away, ushering him inside and taking the flowers with the utmost care.
"Dahlias aren't even in season yet, where'd you get these?!"
You miss the furrow of his brow as he slugs his shoes off at the mat, following you through the immediate hallway.
"I may have pulled some more strings..." Felix trails off, footsteps faltering once he's in the open space of the kitchen and living room. He hears your laugh, lips quirking into a lopsided grin as he takes in the familiar centerpiece on the island. When you turn around, you catch those brown eyes shift from the orchids to the peonies that sit beside them. He points at the mummified bouquet with a tilt of his head.
"Are those~" He blinks, setting the tote bag down on the cool marble. "Are those the peonies I bought you for our one month?"
You hum an affirmative, lips thinning as you disappear down the hallway in search of a vase. Every single floral in your house is like a bright red flag in the apartment; waving rampantly in your peripheral as you pass through the living room. Good god, Felix hasn't even noticed those yet. The thought has you losing focus, fingers mindlessly shuffling through the vast collection of vases in the hall closet.
The crumpled petals in their muted pinks and creams stare back at the man as he leans against the kitchen island, chin resting in the palm of his hand with narrowed eyes. Felix would've expected these to be long gone by now. The peonies that had once been so vibrant and alive are nothing more than dried stems and petals in a ceramic vase. To him, they look less-than-lively in their current state. The sound of socked feet padding back into the living room shifts his attention. He doesn't even notice the other displays behind you, too focused on your presence alone.
"I'm no florist, Love, but these look like they're past their prime." There's a hint of a smile on his lips when he finishes his quip, and you can't help but chuckle. Twitchy fingers reach for the junk drawer handle, pulling it open with a lazy arm.
"I know they're not as beautiful as when you first gave them to me," You say, grabbing the set of pruners and scissors that rest among snack clips, rubber bands and the like, "but trust me when I say that they're still pretty."
"They look dead." He deadpans, padding around the island in few strides. He watches you work intently, leaning against the countertop as you cut the wrapping away and cut back the stems. The tap runs in the sink, cooler for the delicate blooms in your hands.
"They're not-" You start, filling the chosen vase a quarter of the way and mixing the food packet in. Your cheeks feel warm from the comment and you dip your head as you work. "Well, I guess they are technically dead..."
You hear the chuff of a laugh from your boyfriend and glance over your shoulder, quickly looking forward again when you find citrine eyes already on you. The grin on Felix's face is soft and yet you feel your face heat up even more. If he's teasing me about the peonies, what's he gonna say about the others?
"I dried them, so to me, they're just... frozen in time." You say, pruning the few leaves from the lower stems.
"You dried them?" He sounds surprised. You nod, placing the flowers into their yellow porcelain vase, fiddling with the placement of each blossom more than you should.
It's now, when you're preoccupied, that Felix's eyes rove over the island to the living room and his eyes widen. The Gladiolus bouquet from almost two weeks ago sits on the coffee table as a centerpiece, still alive by some miracle. Even more surprising, the Hydrangeas from a week and a half ago sit in a glass jar on the console table behind your sofa. The water in the makeshift vase is just about gone, settled in the base of the jar touching just the tips of the clipped stems.
"Baby, how are these still alive?" He asks, walking around the island towards the displays in the living area. Your attention shifts, following his movements as he stands there baffled by the still pristine blooms on the coffee table. Felix turns his head to you, your fingers laced in front of you as you move away from the Dahlias in their yellow porcelain vase.
"Felix, I have to tell you something."
Dark brows knit at your tone, voice mumbling and awkward as you tap your index nail onto your opposite ones.
"What, Love?"
"It's just- ah-" You let out a tense exhale, your heart beat picking up in your chest. "It's a little embarrassing to say, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but the flowers have gotten a bit out of hand... and..."
You pause in your ramblings, glancing up to your boyfriend who is still fascinated by the week old flowers. He picks up the jar of Hydrangeas with a careful hand, eyeing the petals that have begun their wilting and drying process. Observing. Analyzing. For a moment you believe he's so focused on them that your words have gone unheard, but he shifts his gaze to yours with arched brows and narrowed browns.
"How'd you manage to keep these fresh so long? The florist's site said they'd last a little under a week if you were lucky."
You tilt your head toward the ceiling, pressing your lips together as you scratch at the nape of your neck.
"I may or may not have some background in floristry..." You trail, voice going higher as you speak. Your fingers clench over your thumb as your eyes flicker about the living space, avoiding eye contact. "It's part of why I'm telling you. I love the flowers, Felix, I really do. But, it's just becoming a bit much."
"Love," Felix sets the flowers down with a sigh, and you keep your eyes on the far wall out of shame. He's mad, disappointed... he's something! And it's not a good someth-
You startle at the feeling of warm hands cupping your cheeks and your wide eyes dart forward to meet his. He takes in your expression, noticing the nervous shifting and fidgeting. Felix offers you his full attention - a warm smile and warm eyes, those familiar crescents.
"Why are you so nerved up? There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know I support you in everything." He leans forward and in an instant you feel him press a kiss to your forehead. Your chest lightens at the gesture.
"So you're not mad?"
"Never! Though I wish you would've told me that you were knowledgeable in fresh cut flowers. I only sent you new ones after the flower I took from each bouquet wilted on me."
His confession makes you laugh, your eyes closing as you shake your head.
"I was wondering why one was missing from every delivery. I thought someone was shortchanging you!"
"No, I wanted you to have something to brighten up the place when I'm gone. I guess I didn't consider the idea of you knowing anything on flowers..." He trails, chuckling to himself. His hands leave your face, taking their familiar place wrapped around your waist as he pulls you into him. Felix's chin rests atop your head, and you bring your own arms around his torso, nails scratching lightly against his shoulder blades. You press your face into his chest.
"So, where'd you learn all your magical floristry skills from?" He asks, glancing around the place for any other old bouquets he'd gifted you.
"My grandfather." You murmur, tilting your head up to catch his eye. Your arms tighten around him. "He was always out in the garden, spent most of his lifetime caring for his flowers out there, I'm pretty sure. Everything he'd taught me was through his own trial and error."
"Well, sure seems like you've perfected some of his teachings." Felix muses, grinning down at you. A scoff leaves you and you wave away his high praises.
"It's nothing, really. I just enjoy the process." You feel your cheeks heating up again, so you press your face back into the fabric of his hoodie.
"It's nothing?" Felix's arms tighten around your waist, lifting you easily and sitting himself down on the couch so you're draped over his lap. You settle your face in the crook of his neck, feeling him huff out a content sigh as he relaxes into the cushions. "You are so humble... but you have to admit, you're a natural at this. Maybe we should open up a flower shop together, hm? I'll take the orders, you just do your thing with this beautiful mind of yours." He nuzzles his chin into the side of your head with a chuckle, fingers cascading over the skin of your hip.
"You gonna take orders on tour, too?" You tease, fighting back a grin.
"You betcha! Your talent can be shipped worldwide." He glances down to gauge your reaction, the corners of his lips curled up in a smug amusement. Though there's that genuine affection seeping through as well. The kind that makes your heart flutter. You roll your eyes, but your hostility is lost with the curl to your lips. You press a soft kiss to Felix's neck, his expression shifting as he rests his head against the back of the couch.
"You really think I could open a flower shop?"
"You could be anything you wanna be, Love." He says, shifting so that you're facing each other. He draws you closer, hands moving to the curve of your shoulders. You can feel his heart beating against your own, missing that skin-to-skin contact that he's been craving for the past few months on tour. The living room settles into contentedness for a moment; just fingers brushing skin and shallow breaths as you both keep your eyes on one another.
"I love you," Felix whispers, lips brushing against yours once, twice, until they fully connect in a sweet kiss.
"And I love you," You mumble, smiling against him. "but I'll happily take your brownies every week for the next year."
"No more flowers, then?" You scrunch your nose at his question, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from laughing at the ridiculousness of your situation.
"You are the biggest rom-com protagonist I've ever laid my eyes on."
Felix's eyes light up with a playful spark as he tilts his head to the side, a deep chuckle rumbling his chest.
"What can I say, I try." He's oh, so humble about it; eyebrows arching in a cocky manner, a lopsided grin on his lips. He presses another kiss to your lips, slow and lingering as his hands slip to your lower back. You can't help but smile against his mouth, bringing a hand up to tangle in the dark tresses of hair. He hums before pulling back, suddenly remembering something.
"Speaking of being the best boyfriend alive-"
"Your words, but sure-"
"-I brought some takeout and a few other gifts from overseas... but you said you wanted brownies soooo..." He looks off elsewhere, and you roll your eyes.
"Babe!"
Felix laughs, the sound a gentle melody to your ears. Your eyes meet again and he shoots you a loving smile, nodding toward the bag sitting on the counter.
"They're yours, Love." He murmurs, fingers tapping the side of your leg to usher you off the couch.
"C'mon. The quicker we eat, the quicker I get to cuddle you to sleep."
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Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!
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tpwkmadeline · 28 days ago
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okay christmas haul so far! i still have another christmas thing on saturday! :)
from my mom (long story):
- christian dior sunglasses
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from my dad:
- pre ttpd eras tour poster on canvas
- reputation style photoshoot poster on canvas
- 3d ish style taylor swift poster with a frame
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from my aunt:
- taylor swift activity book with crosswords, word search, color pages, and 5 pages of stickers
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from my cousin:
- fearless glitter hand heart stand to put my friendship bracelets on
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