#colored pages book tours

[novelswithariana]

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?”

[unsurewhatusernametoput]

I did more of the prodject who wants to give me a colored printer PLEASEEE

[unconventionalquirkybibliophile]

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…

[coffeeghoulie]

Hiiii!! I love all of your fics, especially the way you write Swiss 😌😌😌

If you want to, could I ask for some fluffy Swiss content, just literally anything where he gets some kind of comfort lols!

Hell yeah, fluffy Swiss content. This does have a little bit of my personal lore for him that he doesn't go by Swiss until most of the way through his first tour, but that gets resolved fairly quickly.

About 1.4k of Aether and Mountain putting together Swiss's first summoning day present.

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

The new multi-ghoul isn't as slick as he thinks he is, Aether notes. He sees the way his eyes trail when they pass by the jewelry stores on the off days spent exploring. How he locks on longingly at the delicate gold earrings and cuffs, shakes his head and moves on.

Aether pulls Mountain aside halfway through the tour, the Cardinal discussing something animatedly with the multi-ghoul.

"Do you see it, Mount?" Aether says, voice not quite a whisper. Mountain hums as he glances up from his book, shifting in his seat next to him. "Multi keeps looking like he wants them, but he never gets any."

"Right. He's not adorned, though I've seen he has the piercings for it," the earth ghoul says. He nudges one of his antlers against Aether's pronged horn. "I mean, Frit's pierced six ways to Sunday and he wears a couple rings in his braid. And if he came through a fire portal and survived, Multi might be the same way. Might be a fire ghoul thing."

"Wonder what happened to his jewelry, then," Aether says, not glancing up. From where he's talking to the Cardinal, he looks back at the two of them, gold eyes glinting. "He'd look good in it. Gold would be a good color on him."

Mountain agrees with a low hum. "I will keep it in mind. You want me to get the others involved?"

"Ooh, good idea. Keep it on the down low, though. I don't know how Multi'll react if we just. Spring this on him, you know?"

"Absolutely," Mountain agrees, turning a page with a rustle.

They spread the message to the others, Cirrus and Cumulus turning to each other with delighted grins, Rain and Dew nodding at each other, determined. It's slow going as to not arouse suspicion, but one by one, each ghoul slips aside to buy jewelry, various charms and rings, all in gold.

During that time, the multi-ghoul comes to the rest of the pack, a little skittish and completely out of character. "Figured it out," he breathes, scuffing his spat-covered shoe against the carpet of a green room in some venue. "I heard some of the humans calling me something and I want it to be mine. My name's Swiss."

Aether grins, grabs his shoulder kindly. "It's very nice to meet you, Swiss. Welcome to the pack again."

Swiss smiles, that blinding thing that has the full force of the sun behind it. The tour gets easier, now that he's coming into himself, exponentially more confident Up Top. But he still stares longingly when he thinks the rest of the ghouls aren't looking. Aether and Mountain share a knowing glance, knocking their shoulders together.

The tour ends a few days from the first anniversary of Swiss's summoning. Aether slips into each ghoul's room, cautiously collecting each offering. But even with his caution, the Cardinal pulls him aside.

"I hear you are collecting jewelry, eh?" Copia says, mismatched eyes scanning over Aether's face.

"Yes, Cardinal," Aether says, brow furrowing slightly. "For Swiss."

Copia nods and reaches into a pocket he didn't notice in his cassock. When he pulls his hand out, there's the glint of gold in the palm of his leather gloved-hand. "I would like to add to your collection. My own sort of welcome, si?"

Aether swallows, smiling. "Thank you, Cardinal."

"Ah, don't mention it," he grins, a little sheepishly. "Cannot have him think I am leaving him out, no?"

"Never," Aether says, reaching out to accept the earrings from him. As he gets a better look, his breath hitches at the sight of two delicately wrought gold grucifixes on French hooks, a tiny, sparkling ruby in the center of each inverted cross. "Cardinal. Thank you."

Aether makes sure he catches Swiss alone on his summoning day after dinner. Mountain's made a cake, and Dew had lit the candle in the center. The flame had glinted in his eyes, reflecting the glee there as he glanced throughout the pack, grinning.

Aether takes Swiss by the bicep as he heads out of the kitchen, Rain shooing him away from the dishes. He's gentle, knowing that Swiss is still a little bit jumpy and prone to snapping. But as it stands, Swiss just turns to face him with a question in his expression.

"We have something for you, Swiss," he says, voice low and even as he leads the multi ghoul to the common room. "The entire pack's been working on this for months, but don't feel that you have to accept it, okay?"

Swiss makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat as he lets himself be led by the bigger ghoul. Aether sits them both on one of the loveseats, opening the drawer on the end table and pulling out a package wrapped in tissue paper. He hands it to Swiss.

"For me?"

"Yes," Aether says. "We all pitched in for a summoning day gift."

Swiss takes a deep breath, trying to subtly rub his eye before he starts to unwrap it. The gold glints in his lap, and he covers his mouth with a big hand as he takes it in. "You- you got me-?" He can't finish his sentence.

Aether carefully sets his hand between Swiss's shoulderblades. "We noticed your piercings, and how you didn't wear any jewelry in them. The fire ghoul who used to be in our pack, Ifrit, wore a lot in the Prince's name. And since we know you came through a fire portal, we thought you might like some adornment."

"I- I'm not-" Swiss looks up, and Aether feels a horrified pit sink into his stomach at the distraught look on his face. His gold eyes are wet and red-rimmed. "I haven't- I haven't worn adornment for Him in- since my-" He cuts himself off, and Aether knows better than to push.

"You don't have to for our sake, though," Aether assures.

"No!" Swiss says, a little louder than he must mean, because he shrinks back a little bit. "I mean. I want to. Makes me a part of the pack officially. And if I'm serving Him, I may as well look it."

Aether smiles kindly, hand rubbing a small circle over his spine. "May I?" Aether asks, reaching for the pile of jewelry in his lap. Swiss nods and passes it over before sliding off of the loveseat. He sits himself between Aether's spread thighs.

He winds a cuff decorated like sprawling leaves and vines around one of his locs, threads a golden cloud charm through the end of another. A pair of studs shaped like suns go through a set of piercings in his cartilage, and the teardrop shaped ones go through the holes next to them. Aether shows him each piece, letting him decide if and where he wants it. Slowly, Aether adorns him with every piece of jewelry the pack had squirreled away, hoops and studs and dangling charms in elemental symbols and sigils, all glinting gold against his warm gray skin and dark hair.

All that's left are the grucifixes, and Aether gently shows them to Swiss, the inset rubies glinting in the warm lamplight. There's a long silence, and Aether worries that he might have offended him in some way.

"Yes," Swiss breathes. He tenses a moment before craning his neck to look up at Aether over his shoulder. "Actually, will you let me put them in?"

"Of course." He carefully puts the earrings into Swiss's palm. Aether pretends he can't hear as Swiss starts to whisper to himself as he threads each earring into the lowest piercing on each lobe. Tone quiet, reverent. His own soft prayer to the Prince Below.

It takes a moment, but Swiss eventually takes a deep breath and looks up. "Show me what it looks like?" he asks hopefully.

Aether stands and pulls Swiss to his feet. The two of them head to one of their bathrooms, and Swiss grins in the mirror over the sink. Aether's only known him for a year, and this is the first time he's seen him wearing jewelry, but he knows.

Aether smiles back at him. Swiss looks more like himself than he ever has.

[ahistoricdistraction]

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...

[thatchickwiththecamera]

ROOMMATES | Jesse Cash One Shot

Pairing: Jesse Cash x Reader

Warnings: Contains Smut, 18+ Only

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!” 

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

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.

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.)

[jymwahuwu]

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)

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?

[noisyquokka]

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

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.

"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."

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[homochampagne]

quinn’s in love and death stream summary: all of the lore

he described the way bert’s voice sounds towards the ending of i caught fire as “cute and sweet”

he said he has synesthesia and gave us a color for a lot of the songs. the only ones i remember are: i caught fire is red and yesterdays feelings is green

at the beginning of yesterdays feelings, quinn’s voice can be heard saying “creaks and cracks”. it turns out he was talking about a really old guitar he was playing that wasn’t very good for recording because it made noises as you played

regarding the meaning of yesterdays feelings, quinn said he couldn’t describe it.

a lot of the songs on this album were from ideas quinn came up with. he said he did background vocals on about 75% of the songs

light with a sharpened edge was a title bert came up with, quinn said he really liked that title

in 2004, while the used was working on in love and death and mcr was working on revenge, the two bands lived in the same apartment building in la and would hang out a lot. gerard would come over to quinn’s place and quinn told a story about gerard playing 3 songs from revenge for quinn in his bedroom. quinn said he remembered thinking revenge sounded very cohesive and in love and death was a lot different; it was kind of all over the place and he worried it was too pop and that they were getting too far away from the used’s original sound. he played some songs for gerard as well

quinn talked really positively about mcr, he described them as having a “vampire motorcycle gang” aesthetic back in the day. around 2003 i believe the used took mcr on tour in europe with them; quinn said he’d often film them/take pics of them from the side stage, at one point he was thinking about maybe making a music video for them of liveshow clips but that never happened. he remembers being sure that mcr would become a really huge band (they were still in bullets era at this time)

in 2004 during the writing and recording of in love and death quinn was doing mushrooms and smoking weed and he was reading a lot of philosophy books. i forget the authors name, but chapter 8 of a book he was reading that was about transferring the perspectives/teachings of eastern philosophy into a western lens was called “how to be a genuine fake”. at this time, tensions between him and bert were high, they were butting heads a lot and quinn was sick of his behaviour. he noted how bert would act around people/treat people completely differently; he’d be great to some people and horrible to others. in quinn’s room at the apartment, he handed bert the philosophy book opened to the “how to be a genuine fake” chapter and told him to read it. bert read one page and then threw it on the bed and was like “whatever”. a few days later, bert had written lyrics to a song and said it was titled “i’m a fake”

someone asked about blue and yellow and he said “yes that song’s about me”; he gave us the exact meaning of the “your hands were shaking” line. feldy and bert have both told a story about how during the recording of the first album, bert disappeared for ~2 weeks. bert said he met some girl and was gonna quit the band and whatever. (<- when he’s talking about blue and yellow in that interview, it’s one of those half-truths where like, it did happen, yes, but it’s like the irrelevant part of the larger story, which he obvs doesn’t want to talk about now. gina is a convenient fake inspiration. this section of this interview is so eyeroll inducing because he literally admits to lying about the song in the kirsten dunst part. bert has talked about quinn being the subject of blue and yellow so many times; i have very thorough citations & proof for all of the blue and yellow stuff in my fic masterguide). REGARDLESS, when bert finally showed up at feldy’s again, quinn said that he was so mad and upset that his hands were shaking. (when i say disappeared i mean DISAPPEARED like they couldn’t contact him at all). quinn said that feldy just hugged bert and was like “you can’t do that”. quinn said that at times, feldy was kind of like their dad.

as we all know, all that i’ve got is about bert’s dog david bowie that passed away by getting hit by a car, which in some roundabout way was due to the wrong plane ticket being booked for him meaning he couldn’t take bowie, so he left him with someone who was going to drive him out to wherever the band was heading. quinn said that the line “so deep that it didn’t even bleed” is a reference to the phonecall bert received from his dad who broke the news to him that bowie died, saying “it was quick, there wasn’t even any blood”

the line “i couldn’t come/you couldn’t come” in cut up angels means cum, like orgasm

sound effects and overdramatics is about sex, relationships, and drugs/addiction

feldy told quinn to listen to the beatles entire discography around this time, which he did. he said that there were definitely beatles and nirvana influences on this album. he specifically mentioned territorial pissings, and he mentioned playing a beatles riff backwards on one of the songs but i can’t remember which one :( sorry

quinn likes thursday, and he listened to full collapse a lot

when asked, he said he likes fall out boy

he still talks to mikey sometimes

someone asked if his kids know the used songs and he basically said no, and then he started talking about how his son says “skibidi” and “rizz” and “ohio” and “brainrot” and he like knew all of the lingo???? NDSJSKAKKS and then he was like “back in my day the cringe stuff we would quote was pauly shore” (i’m paraphrasing) and then he did a pauly shore impression

off-tour he would just live out of his backpack, and he rented a spare bedroom at his friends house (im assuming this was like late 2002-early 2004 because in summer 2004 they had the la apartment). he built a bed out of bricks with planks of wood on top. (……this info combined with him just sleeping on the floor of his bedroom at his parents place because there was no bed makes me think he was just used to sleeping on hard surfaces????)

he confirmed that hard to say is about kate, bert’s girlfriend who passed away during the recording of in love and death. it was a song that was added in right at the end of recording and they weren’t sure if they would keep it in. quinn said that he and his family were close to kate, because back at the beginning of the band when bert joined and quinn said he could move in with him, kate lived with them for a period of time too. quinn said that bert and kate were recovering addicts and that he left home for a while at this point because they were staying in his bedroom and sometimes it was “hard to be around them”. we know for sure that quinn sometimes did stay there with bert, because of the whole story where they were sleeping on his bedroom floor together when feldy called from norway in the summer of 2001 and blah blah blah (which he told on branden’s podcast)

towards the end of the recording of in love and death, quinn said that he and bert were not speaking to each other. finding album cover artwork became his responsibility, quinn found alex pardee and basically organized/chose all of the album artwork working with alex (who was the artist)

because we would never figure it out, he told us a secret about ocean of the sky. put on the film 2001: a space odyssey, skip to 20 minutes and 1 second from the ending and play the song tethys and it’s supposed to line up exactly to what happens on-screen. he was inspired by those rumors that you could do the same thing with the original wizard of oz and pink floyd’s dark side of the moon. the guys had been talking about 2001: a space odyssey in regards to ocean of the sky, the “ocean of the sky” meaning outer space. he said he created the song tethys in one sitting, from 9pm - 6am and his computer crashed twice. he digitally mixed it and then sent it off at 9am that morning and that was the last song on that ep.

quinn said that he’s happy bert’s sober now, but it’s “too little, too late” (his exact words)

he confirmed that bert’s struggle with addiction and his behaviour for the majority of the time quinn was in the band was what lead to quinn’s departure. it was draining, exhausting, and the 23 hours a day that they were not on stage was a “nightmare”. he says very confidently that he’s happier now. (side note: if you haven’t listened to this interview with bert about addiction/sobriety i think you should, because he gives details regarding the severity of what was happening. tw: discussion of self-harm)

when asked if there’s any chance he’ll ever play a show with the used again, he said “no”

re: the band and quinn’s frustrations about bert, quinn said he found himself “sitting on his hands” (exact words) a lot of the time and just going along with whatever was happening because he had no other means of enacting change that would actually work (paraphrased). he used a really good metaphor of letting bert “drive”, but quinn would always have “one hand on the wheel”… i feel like that’s self-explanatory

during part of this section of the stream, he got emotional and teary-eyed and said that some of it is hard to talk about

regarding some of the meaning behind quinn’s song i digress, quinn said that it’s about the difficult experience of trying to help a friend who struggles with severe depression and persistent suicidal thoughts, and how he felt that all of his efforts were futile. this seemed to be a recent experience of his. he also spoke about a similarity between this situation and being in the band, which he described as very negative and emotionally taxing when you continually try to help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves. for his emotional wellbeing he needed to step away (in both situations). he also clarified that the lyric is “i’m hanging by your thread” which i got wrong in my transcription. he compared the “i’m hanging by your thread” line to the heart noose.

quinn showed us the physical prototype for his book which is completely finished. he is hopeful that pre-orders will be available in mid-october through kickstarter, he is planning to make a signed book and cassette tape ep bundle which he wants us to receive before christmas (this is all tentative).

he is apparently filming a music video for his second single today (yesterday he spent building the set for it). physical versions of his ep will only be available in cassette tape form because that’s what he grew up with, he likes that they’re small and easy to display

the book has A LOT of exclusive photos in it. he showed us some pages of the book. he said that he started writing it/working on it back when he left the band as a therapeutic, cathartic hobby. aside from the written chapters, there are a lot of pages he created in photoshop that have photo collages that he would draw little pictures on and organize. he said he would work on this to process his emotions, he would cry and let himself feel angry or upset, but it ended up being a very healing project

someone mentioned that they gave him a scrapbook in 2012 (he remembered it) and he said that he still has all of the stuff that the fans gave him/the band. he would box all of it up after their tours and ship it to his house. some of this fan stuff is featured in the book

he really enjoyed the stream and he will likely do another one sometime in the near future (no date is set yet). he’d like to do a listening party for the first album and talk about the songs/behind the scenes lore like he did for this one. he’d also be open to doing a stream just about guitars. people were requesting for him to put out official guitar tabs for the used songs and he said he’ll definitely work on it now that he knows there is interest

he had literally stacks of old photos and showed us some of them which i’ll make a separate post for. at one point he was like “ohhh i can’t show you those” and skipped through a bunch which is just the most infuriatingly intriguing thing like…… i can only imagine.

this was all just written from memory bc for some insane reason recording desktop audio on obs if you have a mac is literally impossible which is crazy in 2024 but regardless i think the livestreams are more special if they aren’t recorded because you have to be there to witness it. i got the vibe that he doesn’t want them to be saved (he said “i can’t” but that’s not true), so instead of asking him in chat next time and you really really want to save it, just record it for your own personal viewing and keep it on the down low. (i’m not telling anyone what to do but i feel like re-uploading to youtube would be against his wishes (he never said this, it’s just my inference)).

if anyone who watched feels like i missed a crucial piece of lore, feel free to add XD

[novelswithariana]

🌸 ARIANA'S BOOK REVIEW 🌸

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/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.

[whimsicaldragonette]

Blog Tour and Arc Review: The Buried and the Bound by Rochelle Hassan

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.)

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

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.

---

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.

[amorganva]

Just a bunch of random interesting Lies of P stuff I've seen so far because I still love this game:

So the workshop was established 1868....which means that we're in the year 1889 or around that timeframe based on the grand exhibition signs.

Apparently Sophia has a diary? and this is the only page: Master Cherry gives the Piece of wood to his friend Geppetto At that very moment a loud knock sounded on the door It was Geppetto, an old friend of Master Cherry. The boys of the neighborhood called him Polendina because of the wig he always wore, which was just the color of yellow corn. He was known to dislike children, and even more so when they called him Polendina.

on some of the plaques at the grand exhibition

The Krat k for reference and the devs having fun sneaking pics onto bottles lol

The music sheet on the piano is the sheet music for the Oblivion soundtrack of the game. I also wonder why P chooses to play that particular piece that he plays as his humanity increases, why is it stuck in your head P?....on to another Carmeo doodle! I mean seriously the first few notes of the Estella Opera theme sound like humanity level 1 P trying the piano....like there's this specific tune in his mind. Like the two used to play together or Carlo the bougie being good at playing would teach Romeo, the kid from the streets. And the whole level P would hear that tune ....operafied and extra because it's Romeo, cmon, but also as a reminder like -Hey...remember, buddy?

Just for reference purposes, when exported directly, Romeo is a giant at almost 9 ft - while P is about 6'4" when not constantly in battle stance. But Sophia and every other NPC in Krat is also about 6 feet when directly exported so the characters aren't made to scale - youngest of the BRBH is as tall as Sophia without ears. I read somewhere that Carlo is supposed to be around 5'3" on average and 5'6" at the tallest (people being shorter back then etc....our short king) so in my headcanon for my doodles reference I scaled Romeo to be about 5'10", just a bit taller than Carlo. Idk why I make him taller but there's something about his nickname Lampwick which just meant that he's skinny and polished looking in the original context but it got in my head that he's just tall and skinny and I'm rolling with it. Funny that his puppet form is so rusted and kinda clunky and raggedy looking for someone so well put together presumably before he died. The most unruly of Pinocchio's friends but also the nicest guy in this universe--- don't get me started on Romeo again gigachad of a friend///

Also something you can't really see ingame cuz resolution but irl all records are by Trilogy Records and Feel in particular is "Song of Vamp, Rosa Milan" ....no clue what it means.

the placeholder used for Romeo's play in the trailers....but also Hotel Krat before it became a Hotel in a bustling city?

Question: Blue hair Sophia or Brown hair? Short hair P or long hair P? (I like short hair because it's an iconic look and the devs clearly spent a lot of time fine tuning it when you look at the trailers lol, long hair to me just feels so....basic) Also P's hair is aktschually brown.....it just looks really dark ingame and in all the artwork they just chose to make it black-looking. So Carlo and P technically have the same hair, he just doesn't have P's freckles which....a choice was made by Geppetto and I respect it.

You can read this oddly specific daffodil newspaper texture and this letter.....like why is this so high res??

It's a shame you can't see some of this stuff unless you actually take a close look at the game files but I like to snoop. I just wanna see more of Krat...like a tour video or something or a book before it all kinda went to hell. Thanks Geppetto ....and/or Simon.

[alotofpockets]

A perfect day | Florence Pugh

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: Enjoying a romantic holiday with your girlfriend. [Full request]

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 600

You look up from the book you were reading, to be met with the loving eyes of your girlfriend staring back at you. Her smile warms your heart, “Hi baby.” She reaches her hand over and places it lovingly on your leg, “How’s your book?” You put your bookmark between the pages and place it down beside you. “I love it so far, but not as much as I love you, my love.” You sit up in your lounge chair to kiss her lips. “Would you like to go for that swim now?” Florence eagerly nods. She takes off her dress revealing her two piece bathing suit, you would never get tired of looking at her. “Hm, you’re so pretty, baby.” You strip down to your swim attire as well, and walk to the water hand in hand. 

It was your third day in Italy, you had two busy days exploring the city, seeing so many incredible things, that today you decided to have a relaxing day by the beach. You were truly enjoying this time away from your busy lives, to fully focus on each other and the beautiful surroundings. Florence came to Italy a few times growing up but you had never been. She wanted to show you some of her favorite places. You went on a boat tour, and explored the city on foot. The city was so colorful, and you don’t think you will ever get enough of the beautiful blue ocean. 

After some time in the water, you head back to your lounge chairs. “I made dinner reservations for tonight, I did some research and this restaurant is supposed to have an amazing view from their terrace.” Florence loved her food, which is why most of the time you let her choose where to eat, she always passed it by you first, but today she wanted to keep the details a surprise. “I can’t wait to see it with you.” Florence sits down next to you and leans into your side. You wrap your arms around her and kiss her head. “I’m so happy here with you.” Florence whispers. “Me too, baby.” 

She was right, the view from the restaurant was amazing. You were led to a table near the railings of the terrace, you could see the mountains, the water, and overlooked the whole city. It was perfect. You ordered your food, which was so good, and talked the whole evening. The sun started to set and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of it setting over the water. “This is so beautiful, Flo.” - “Yes, it is.” Florence says with her eyes on you. You turn her way and realize what she just did and laugh, “You flirt. I love you.” Florence sends you a wink before saying, “I love you too.”

After dinner you enjoy a walk along the beach, watching as the sun continues to set. Long after the sun sets, you walk back to your hotel room, the roads lit by the moon. Back at the room you both change into your pajamas and lay down in the bed. You lay your head down on her chest and listen to her heartbeat, while she lazily draws shapes on your back with her fingertips. “Thank you for an incredible day.” You say looking up at her. “Every day with you is an incredible day.” Florence was in a flirty mood today and you were loving every bit of it. You sit up and straddle her waist, leaning in to kiss her passionately. The night was looking to be as perfect as the rest of the day.

💗If you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a coffee💗 

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Little Bits of Crumbs

Reimagining An Offer from a Gentleman #5

Synopsis: Benedict Bridgerton doesn't know the definition of subtlety. Or how Eloise Bridgerton found out. Or how Violet Bridgerton always knew.

AO3 post from here!

It was a peaceful day at No.5. Eloise would have to admit that her life had become more quieter, with her two sisters respectively in their husbands’ houses, and her best friend gone on a tour of the continent with her brother. With Gregory off to Eaton and Hyacinth off to wherever she was, there was a calmness and solace in the No.5 she had never experienced ever since she was born.

She quietly watched her Mother and the maid swiftly mend away, her mother working on the tulip embroidery, the maid mending a pair of wool socks. Eloise had admired the nimbleness the new ladies maid she had on needlework. A skill she would never acquire, she thought bitterly to herself as she flipped the page of her book, a copy of Pride and Prejudice. “It’s a romance novel”, the other debutant had told her, but she rather enjoyed the witty sarcastic banter between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, rather than the romantic aspects of the story. Elizabeth was a character she would look up to, the wisest, the quickest, the most perspective…

“Good Afternoon, family.”

Eloise heard a small yelp from the corner of the room, followed by a small thump, a set of needle sticks, and a pair of dark blue socks dropped on the hems of the maid’s violet-colored skirts.

“Excuse me,” Eloise heard her say ever so faintly. “Slipped my hands.”

Eloise looked up from her book, almost rolling her eyes seeing her favorite brother skipping through the door of the drawing room with a bouquet in hand. Again in his best attire, the dark blue jacket, a navy golden botanical vest, and a shiny silver pin on his cravat, he might as well be dressed for a ball, rather than a casual stop to his mother’s home.

Although it was still Wednesday, it was the fourth time of the week she had seen him at No.5. He always seemed to be sketching in hallways and the corridors, saying the following quotes repeatedly; “No.5 has changed into the new source of my inspiration.” and “Well, this staircase is exceptionally well lit from the sunlight of this window, don’t you think so Eloise?”

It had been exactly three years since she had last seen Benedict even hold a sketchbook in his hands, and his fervent recurrence had been her constant puzzlement over the last few days.

“Flowers for you, Mother.”

“Why, thank you, Benedict.”

Placing a small peck on her cheeks, Benedict handed over the Bouquet to his mother; a bundle filled with wildflowers and Lilly of the Valleys. Her lips curling slightly, Violet passed the bouquet to the maid, asking her to set them up in the vase.

“Could you set them up by the window over here, Sophie?”

“Of course, Lady Bridgerton.” Eloise quietly observed her brother’s gaze nervously follow the bouquet, biting his lower lip as the maid left the room, almost as if he was worried that the flowers would explode into pieces.

Why would he be so nervous over a bouquet?

“Why are you here, Benedict?”

Eloise asked sharply, and Benedict snapped from his gaze.

“Splendid to see you too, dear sister.”

With his usual crooked smile returning to his face, Benedict flopped himself on the sofa next to her, taking a scone from a plate.

“Excellent view from here, isn’t it? And the weather! Splendid!”

“Benedict, it is pouring rain. Are you quite well?”

“Well, I have come to enjoy rain as well, sister.”

“Benedict, I truly cannot figure out why you have changed so.” Eloise closed her book, focusing on her brother, but she couldn’t help but notice that his brother’s gaze flickered too many times on the door.

“Last time you visited us, it was three weeks ago, and you hardly stayed an hour. And now you’ve come here three days in a row!”

“Is it a crime to pay a visit to my dear family?”

Eloise rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Suddenly we are so dear to you? You’ve never shaved when you visit us.”

“I’ve learned the importance of hygiene, El.”

“When have you ever cared about hygiene?”

“Like I said, I’ve gained a new perspective in the countryside.” Benedict took a bite of the scone, flipping the crumbs off from his vest. “Perhaps you should visit the countryside as well, sister. Wonderful effects it brings, both physically and spiritually.”

With a slight tilt of her head, Eloise stared at her brother, noticing that she couldn’t exactly deny his words at all. For the past few years, Benedict was never without bags under his eyes, always with a faint smell of liquor and cigarettes, but now he looked quite healthy, almost like he was …glowing? Eloise squinted her eyes, wanting to see past her brother’s soul, but it was a useless endeavor; she could only blink at the gleam of his silver pin.

“Perhaps I should go to the countryside as well,” she muttered under her breath, but her mother heard her at the last second.

“We still have another month until the end of the season my dearest.”

“But I have already met all the men in London!” Eloise cries out.

“Perhaps she’ll have a better chance at finding a husband in the countryside Mother.” Benedict quipped from his seat, “I have heard that there are several eligible bachelors in the countryside as well…” But Benedict’s words trailed off in silence. As Eloise turned her head around, the maid was back in the room, the bouquet placed beautifully in the glass vase.

“Sophie!” Her mother’s voice was unusually high pitched.“ Could you put the vase over the window next to the table? The sunlight is best at that corner…”

“But Mother, there is no sunlight.”

“Well, yes, yes that is true,” Her mother replied, her hands fluttering around her face, “but I heard the weather would improve tomorrow. Sophie, would you ask Mrs. Wilson to prepare for tea?”

“Yes, Lady Bridgerton.”

The maid hurried out of the room again, and Eloise could swear she heard her mother give a soft sigh. Eloise twitched her fingers slightly, knowing that Sophie was doing her job rather perfectly, then what was her concern?

“Perhaps I should leave for a moment,” Benedict quietly rose from the seat, but her mother grasped his shoulders from the back of his seat rather firmly.

“No, you shall stay.”

“Mother,”

Eloise had to laugh, seeing her brother break out in a childish pout.

“I haven’t heard if you would be attending the Featherington Ball tonight, dearest. I’m sure I can introduce you to some debutants who are excellent at their art…”

“There is no need, Mother. I’m afraid I have other pressing matters to attend tonight.”

“And yet you are idling your time here,” Eloise quipped back, nudging Benedict’s ribs playfully. “Couldn’t you think of a better excuse?”

“Oh, are you going to give me a lecture on honesty, Eloise?” Eloise didn’t like the way his brother raised his eyebrows. “How about the time you said something about flower arrangement classes…”

“Children.” Their mother’s stern voice was enough to straighten up both of their backs and shut them up. Her mother sighed again, with her hands on her head, “How am I ever going to get you two married off…”

“I am sorry to be the cause of your headaches, Mother.” Benedict quietly said. “But I’m afraid that the tea is ready.”

The table was already set, the cups filled with steaming tea with fresh biscuits on the side. As Eloise took a sip from her cup, she noticed that it was already arranged to her preference, no sugar with milk.

“The cook just had them out of the oven,” The maid said with a soft smile, “Chocolate and Marmalade biscuits, my lady.”

“Thank you, Sophie. Could you take the mending up to my room, and also the vase…”

“Would you join us, Ms. Beckett?” Benedict interrupted her mother’s words, and she could see the maid’s eyes widen in… shock? But Benedict was already pouring tea into a cup, putting one lump of sugar with just a splash of milk. Placing two biscuits on the tea tray, Benedict almost shoved the cup in the maid’s hands, but the maid took a step back. Her face was almost white as a sheet, Eloise noticed.

“Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.” Bobbing her head into a curtsy, the end of her voice quivered ever so slightly. “But I must take these upstairs…”

“Never mind the mending.” Her mother said softly. “ You can take your tea now, Sophie. How on earth would you ruin a perfectly nice cup of tea?”

As the maid timidly seated herself in the chair with a cup in her hand, Benedict continued to ramble on about the next art gallery he was planning to submit his paintings as her mother smiled gently over her cup of tea.

It was nice, Eloise thought, seeing his brother converse quite enthusiastically about his own pursuits. He had been quite moody lately, often slouching on his chair, and was more of a listener, rather than an active participant in the conversation. Really what has happened to him? Eloise couldn’t help but wonder…

“You have a crumb right there, Ms. Beckett.”

What jerked Eloise from her daze was his tone. It was his usual teasing tone, but much more softer than she had ever heard. She hadn’t noticed that her brother had left the sofa, but was leaning against the wall beside the chair in the corner of the room.

“Do I?”

Eloise noticed the maid’s cheeks turn crimson red, her gaze cast down to her shoes.

“Right there on the corner.”

“Right here?”

Sophie’s fingers softly reached her mouth, but her brother’s fingers were quicker, softly taking the crumb from the right corner of her lips.

“Right there,”

It was a small, quick gesture, Eloise knew, but she couldn’t help noticing that his fingers lingered a second longer on Sophie’s lips, his thumbs softly tracing the outline for just a second. Almost as if his fingers wanted to stay there an hour longer.

Eloise quickly averted her gaze, feeling the hotness rise to her cheeks as well. Why would she be embarrassed by that? Her brother was only doing it out of kindness, she had seen Anthony wipe Eddie’s mouth with his handkerchief after a meal. She had seen more intimate things, Anthony hardly couldn’t keep his hands off Kate, and so did Colin. The spouses were always wrapped around their husbands’ arms, and Eloise always winced as they would kiss passionately whatever the place was. Eloise never could understand why couples were so obsessed with kisses. What would be so good about placing lips together?

But Eloise had never felt more flustered than this moment, her brother’s fingers on Sophie’s lips, it was almost as if she had invaded a very private moment of the two.

Just taking some crumbs. Nothing scandalous about that is it? It was nothing intimate, it would mean nothing at all.

Eloise quickly looked around the room, somehow desperately wishing that she was the only one who had seen them. But when she gave a glance to her mother, she noticed that her mother was looking at the pair as well, but not with a look of concern or suspicion she had expected. Her gaze stayed on the two, but Eloise somehow knew that her gaze was cast oceans away, her blue eyes sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean. Was it happiness, or was it sadness? Eloise couldn’t clearly tell.

“Benedict.” Jumping up from the seat, her brother’s name slipped out from her lips. “Could you chaperone me to the Audrey House? I might have forgotten something there.”

Benedict looked back at her in puzzlement and mumbled something about wanting to sketch in the garden of No.5 but Eloise ignored his words.

“What have you forgotten? Couldn’t you ask someone to fetch it for you?”

“No,” Eloise said firmly. “I need them instantly, and I need you to come with me.” Almost forcefully grabbing her brother’s arms, Eloise dragged Benedict out of the drawing room.

It had been years since they last had a chat on the swings. Eloise knew, that they had to talk.

[monsterrae1]

Taylor Swift Eras Tour inspired coloring book!

Now up in my Ko Fi shop for 10 usd you can buy a digital download of this Taylor Swift inspired coloring book with 13 pages to color and have fun with!

The Eras Tour coloring book.

As always no pressure to anyone to buy or donate to my Ko Fi at all but I appreciate reblogs <33