#lost records: bloom & rage autumn

[karis17love]

They're so pretty!😭💜

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage

[thescarletmurder]

and if you find this video, it's because i'm dead.

[lgbtpopcult]

What cool WLW projects do we know are coming in 2024?

Drive-Away Dolls

Arguably the most important representation of the year comes from a movie directed by one of the Coen brothers. Ethan Coen directs this wacky comedy that is very much in style for him.

Synopsis:

This comedy caper follows Jamie, an uninhibited free spirit bemoaning yet another breakup with a girlfriend, and her demure friend Marian who desperately needs to loosen up. In search of a fresh start, the two embark on an impromptu road trip to Tallahassee, but things quickly go awry when they cross paths with a group of inept criminals along the way.

Lost Records: Bloom and Rage

A game had to be added to this list and here it is, the best one. From the creators who gave us Life is strange. Lost Records: Bloom and Rage tells the story of four friends who experience a transformative summer in 1995. After 27 years of no contact, Nora, Swann, Autumn, and Kat are reunited by fate and forced to confront the long-buried secret that made them agree to never speak again all those years ago. From the teaser alone it is obvious at least two of them dated.

Pluto

A Thai gl from GMMTV, known for its successful Thai dramas. The story is the telenovela cliche we've always wanted. Two girls in love. One gets in an accident and her twin takes her place to find out who was behind her accident, the other girl is blind. The twin has to fake being the real one so has to be in a relationship with the blind girl and of course falls in love with her. Match made in fanfic heaven.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

It was announced so long ago people are getting frustrated. However, with both a writer and a director now attached to the project, and the strikes over, we have every reason to believe we will finally get to see the hit novel, that centers the love story between two closeted Hollywood actresses, come to life. Whether you loved the novel or were indifferent and didn't see what the fuss was about, it is a very successful wlw romance and we want to see it on screen!

The Paying Guests

The director that brought us Carol adapting a book by the author of Fingersmith? Yes please!

Speaking to Indiewire, Haynes revealed he’s developing an adaptation of Sarah Waters’ 2014 novel The Paying Guests. “It’s a three-part limited series that would need to be a British production, but it’s a really great novel.” Set in post-WWI London, the drama is part lesbian love story and part murder mystery following a down-and-out widow and her daughter, the latter taking up a relationship with one of their lodgers. Waters also wrote Fingersmith, which was adapted into The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook.

NCIS Hawaii season 3

One of our favorite pairings of last year, Kate and Lucy are the main couple of their show and they carry it well. They look good together, have progress and evolution in their relationship and have fun working together.

The Secret of Us

Thai channel CH3 is expected to hit us strong with this Thai gl. CH3 is big in Thailand so this one is a big deal. The story is the typical exes meet again trope and it's magnificent. It centers Doctor Fahlada, nicknamed Doctor Angel. She is trying to hide the pain after being abandoned by the woman she loved. But then...by chance that woman comes back into her life.

Whisper Me a Love Song

Our resident anime entry has to be Whisper me a love song. Based on a manga it is the story of Himari Kino. On the first day of entering high school, Himari Kino "falls" for her senior, Yori Asanagi, whom she watched singing with a band at the welcome party for new students. When Himari confesses her admiration to Yori, Yori misinterprets Himari's feelings as romantic love. However, before Yori realizes, she comes to fall for Himari anyway, and promises to win her affections for real.

Bad Sisters season 2

Bad Sisters is one of the best reviewed and hilarious shows on this list. Coming back for a season 2 was inevitable. Bibi, the lesbian sister, will keep entertaining us in 2024.

Station 19 season 7

One of the most enduring shows and wlw couples on TV are coming back for a season 7! That is a lot of seasons but Maya and Carina do still have that spark.

About Galaxy The Series

Part of the gl renaissance that is expected to go full force next year, this series is already hugely popular among Asian romance fans.

Synopsis:

‘About Galaxy’ is based on author Zezeho’s yuri of the same name, with a Thai title of “มูลค่าดาวล้านดวง”. The story revolves around Hong Yok, a designer who has a big scar on her face which led her to hide away from the public due to her inferiority complex. But something changed in her life when she met Note, a woman she was measuring clothes, and realized she is the same person who gave her that huge scar! However, despite the incident, she doesn’t outright despise her, and instead… feels safe. What will happen to the two women?

My Ex-Friend's Wedding

Kay Cannon ("Blockers") will direct from a script co-written by Taylor Jenkins Reid? Staring a group of friends trying to stop their friend from getting married? And one of them is queer? We're all in!

Arcane (Season 2)

It seems like forever since we first watched Arcane but we're definitely looking forward to season 2. Needs no introduction.

Dream the Series

We already have enough Asian dramas in this list but we couldn't leave out one of the most anticipated gl, Dream. The story is that of a woman that sees a girl in her dreams every night only to meet her in real life. While in real life they are friends in her dreams they do much more. She thinks her friend doesn't know about that what she doesn't know is that she also remembers everything they do in their dreams.

Harley Quinn the Animated Series season 5

Another season of our favorite criminal duo Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy? Yes please and thank you. These two, and this particular iteration of them, might be the best representation American television has ever given us.

Chaser Game W

Chaser Game W is the first gl produced by TV Tokyo so it has a historic significance for the advancement of representation for queer women in Japan. First episode airs January 8. Based on manga series "Chaser Game" written by Hiroshi Matsuyama & illustrated by Yukitaro Matsuyama

The story:

synopsis: Itsuki has been working in the "Dynamic Dream" game company for five years and is now appointed as the lead for a big Japanese-Chinese collaboration project, which she is fully motivated to work on. However, it turns out the Chinese company team is led by her ex, Fuyu, whom she one-sidedly broke up with back in university! After breaking up with Fuyu, Itsuki never dated anyone else and chose to focus on her work, all while not coming out to her family and coworkers... But when her ex-girlfriend suddenly appeared in front of her, her feelings immediately started to sway. Meanwhile, Fuyu always resented Itsuki for breaking up with her without saying why. She takes charge of the project and pushes impossible tasks onto Itsuki. While Fuyu plots her revenge, Itsuki is rekindling her unrequited love. What will the outcome be for these two opposites?

Vigil season 2

The first couple of episodes of Vigil season 2 will technically be shown in December 2023 (in the UK only) but we'll basically be able to watch it beginning 2024 and we're looking forward to it!

Several upcoming TV shows and movies have cast actors that make it obvious they'll have lesbian and bi characters but until we know whether the representation will be enough to be worth watching we're holding off on making that other, more elaborate, list.

[thealexchen]

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage | Lo-fi Summer Trailer

Film your last summer in Velvet Cove playing as Swann, a quirky introvert who loves capturing reality through the lens of her trusty camcorder. Get to know Nora, the rebellious firecracker; Autumn, the thoughtful leader; and Kat, enigmatic and strong-willed – the summer of ‘95 is gonna be one to remember! Lost Records: Bloom & Rage will release late this year (2024) on PC, Xbox Series X|S, and PlayStation 5.

Steam page

[satoshi-mochida]

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage- ‘Lo-Fi Summer’ trailer.

From Gematsu

DON’T NOD has released a new trailer for Lost Records: Bloom & Rage dubbed “Lo-Fi Summer.”

Here is an overview of the game, via DON’T NOD:

About

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is a narrative adventure game set in the fictional town of Velvet Cove in the summer of 1995. Four high school friends—Swann, Nora, Autumn, and Kat—spend the summer together hanging out, playing music, and becoming best friends… until something changes the trajectory of all of their lives. After 27 years of silence between them, they reunite to confront the dark secrets that made them promise to never speak again.

Main Playable Character Reveal: Introducing Swann

In this new trailer, discover Velvet Cove through the lens of a camcorder belonging to the game’s main protagonist, Swann, who is gearing up for her last summer in the fictional Michigan town. In the trailer we get a glimpse into Swann’s personality: her introverted nature and her love of capturing slices of reality on her camcorder. We also see some in-game areas that players will explore and characters they will get to meet when the game releases late 2024.

A Story of Friendship and Secrets, Coming in Two Parts

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage will be released in two distinct parts, a month apart. A natural break in the story means that players will be able to start discussions, share theories, and eagerly anticipate the next part in the story.

Get to Know an Unforgettable Group of Friends

At the start of the summer, Swann gets to know a group of friends—Nora, Autumn, and Kat. She spends the summer forming close bonds with each of them: Nora, rebellious, eccentric and full of energy; Autumn, the thoughtful and charismatic group leader; and Kat: pragmatic, strong-willed and enigmatic. Four very different personalities and perspectives come together on that fateful summer of ’95 to uncover secrets that will bind—and break—the group.

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is due out for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, and PC via Steam in 2024.

Watch a new trailer below. View a new set of screenshots at the gallery.

Lo-fi Summer Trailer

[dakotalovesdontnod]

New Game Announcement

Last week at the 2023 Game Awards, DON'T NOD announced their newest game, introducing...Lost Records: Bloom & Rage!

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is currently scheduled for a late 2024 release on PC, PS5, and Xbox Series X|S. From the game's official page on DON'T NOD, here is its synopsis:

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is a brand-new story-driven journey through time from the creative minds behind Life is Strange. The magical summer of 1995 is one of self-discovery and forging unbreakable bonds for high school friends Swann, Nora, Autumn, and Kat. 27 years of no contact later, fate reunites them to confront the long-buried secret that made them promise to never speak again. 

Additionally, from DON'T NOD's Instagram account, it has been confirmed that this will be the first game to be produced by their Montreal studio. Sending the biggest congratulations and round of applause to the DON'T NOD Montreal team! 👏👏👏

Equally as exciting, it has also been teased that Lost Records: Bloom & Rage will be the first installment in this new series, simply titled Lost Records. No word yet though as to how many games are planned for this series or when the next installment will be released.

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Based on the teaser, it seems like music will have some influence on the storyline, which always makes me excited. I'm a sucker for a good soundtrack, which if the Life is Strange series is anything to base my predictions on, I bet this game will have an amazing soundtrack too. But also, I love watching or playing through games where music becomes another language for some of the characters. That being said, "Records" may also refer to the VHS tapes that have been repeatedly alluded to through their capturing, or recording, of events.

The Life is Strange games are what introduced me to DON'T NOD and made me want to explore more of the games they had developed. So, with this new game/series being lead by the same creatives, I'm super excited to see what they have in store!

[tomorrowedblog]

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage gets new trailer, no release date specified

A new trailer has been released for Lost Records: Bloom & Rage. No release date was specified.

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is a new narrative adventure game from the creators of the critically acclaimed series, Life is Strange.

Film your last summer in Velvet Cove playing as Swann, a quirky introvert who loves capturing reality through the lens of her trusty camcorder. Get to know Nora, the rebellious firecracker; Autumn, the thoughtful leader; and Kat, enigmatic and strong-willed – the summer of ‘95 is gonna be one to remember!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Here's what I would have liked to see. We got a long shot of Lena driving through town-- we see the exterior of the quaint shops and business, and then we roll up to the inn, and the innkeeper is all smilely right up until the moment she gets a good look at Lena's face, at which point the innkeeper freezes, with maybe a little fear in her eyes. When Lena checks on her, the innkeeper recovers with a flustered smile and says, "Oh, never mind dear, I thought you were someone else!"

She's friendly right up until Lena's about to get her room key, which is when Lena reveals she's come to investigate her mother, Elizabeth Walsh. The gates go down, walls go up, do not pass go for $200. Lena's left in the lurch. She decides to explore the town then, and the chill of the autumn air eventually sends her into a pub, where she meets Peggy. Having learned from the innkeeper, she doesn't immediately reveal her purpose in town. She simply explains there was a mix up at the inn and now she's out of luck.

"Well, we have a couple rooms above the bar," Peggy says, friendly now that Lena's chatted with her over a couple drinks. It's clear they could be fast friends. "You're welcome to one of them, while you're in town."

Lena takes her up on it, and so Lena stays, and they chat every morning. Lena knows better than to ask directly about her mother, so she asks where she might find old newspapers and birth records. Peggy directs her to the library and old town hall, but despite the hours and hours she spends, she can't find any information about her mother. It's like she's been purged from all the town's records.

In a fit of frustration, she takes to walking the town. This is where she notices the large raven that seems to follow her as she makes her way through the town's streets. She eventually stumbles upon an old cottage, and though there's no name on the mailbox, there's faded scars on the wooden gate where a name used to sit in woodblock letters. Walsh.

She picks her way over the gate that's rusted shut and through the vines covering the path to the front door. Inside she finds moss and mold and detritus. But then a door in the kitchen slowly swings open, as though beckoning her down the stairs within. In the basement, she finds books of healing herbs and tomes of words left illegible by years of damp and mildew. But there's one she can't resist hugging to her chest-- one with the symbol of Acrata on its cover. Inside she finds her mother's handwriting, detailing her life in the town. Meeting the coven, exploring her power... it's all there.

When she returns to the bar, she's elated, and maybe, after a couple of drinks, she lets slip that she's going to try to track down her mother's friends. She mentions the first name, and Peggy, now off shift and drinking too, darkly mutters "good luck with that."

"What do you mean?"

"My mother's dead."

Lena blinks, and realizes she's speaking to a true counterpart, someone in the same boat as her, but with more answers. "Really?? My mother was--"

"Elizabeth Walsh, aye, I knew that the moment you walked in," Peggy replies. "You're the spitting image."

Lena's brow furrows in confusion. "But, if you knew, then why--"

"She killed my mother."

And her father, Lena soon learns, but it's her mother's passing that hurts Peggy more. Hatred burns under the surface, but surprisingly, none of it is directed at Lena.

"I'm not in the habit of blaming the child for the sins of the mother."

When Lena describes what she found in the cottage, Peggy brushes it off. "You don't really believe in that pish, do you?"

But one thing is for certain-- Peggy is glad they've met. She promises to share more of the town with Lena, and share what she remembers of her own mother.

The next day, Lena begins a quiet search for Florence. The raven appears again, and when she gets close to the hovel where Florence is hiding, it croaks at her then flies off. Lena follows it, and finds the cave. There she finds Florence, and learns the truth about her mother. Instead of Florence being her mouthpiece, Elizabeth manifests in front of Lena, and in that moment they're on the sunny hill again, and Elizabeth wraps her arms around her in a fierce hug.

"I am so proud of you, Lena. And I love you so much."

Before they can truly spend time together, however, a raven's call cuts through the air, and Elizabeth stiffens in alarm.

"Something is wrong. You must go--"

"No, I want to stay with you--"

"Go!"

Elizabeth thrusts her hand towards Lena, banishing her daughter from the vision and returning her to the cave, where she finds Florence in a stand off with Peggy-- whose aura is swirling with dark magical energy.

"Peggy? What are you doing?"

"What we should have done years ago," Peggy growls. Her eyes glow with power, yet her gaze is malicious and hungry for blood. "I knew you would lead me to the witch, Lena. Thank you."

"Whatever you think happened that day isn't true," Lena says, only for Peggy to send a warning shot of energy towards her.

"Don't spread her lies--"

"I saw it!" Lena snaps. "Your mother was as guilty as mine."

"Shut up!"

"She died of guilt, not grief!"

"Enough!"

Peggy unleashes a wave of energy, only for Lena to instintively throw up a shield of her own when she lifts her hands to protect herself. A warm hand settles on her shoulder, and when Lena looks over, a shade of her mother is there, nodding in solidarity. She will protect Lena, through Lena's own gift, as best she can.

"I know what it feels like to lose everything," Lena says, appealing to Peggy's better half. "Trust me when I say killing Florence won't bring back what you've lost, and it won't make you feel better."

"You don't know what it's like-- you don't!"

"I do. Trust me, Peggy, I know."

"I'm alone because of her! My whole life ended when my mother died, and it's her fault!!"

"You're not alone," Lena says. "Look around you. We are the only two people in the world who know what you've been through. I lost my mother too, and Florence... she lost them both."

Peggy's rage eases, clearly losing strength, but not quite subsiding completely. Lena pushes further.

"I know what it's like to lose everything you love most in the world. Sometimes, it feels impossible to recover. And vengeance... it feels sweet for a time, but it won't fill the hole inside you. Trust me on that."

"Then what will?" Peggy asks weakly. This time, when Lena reaches for Peggy's hand, their palms meet in a collision of sparks, but then seal together in a bloom of warmth.

"Love," Lena says simply.

Peggy blinks, and her eyes fill with tears. She sags into Lena, who embraces her fully.

"I miss her so much," Peggy whispers into her shoulder.

Lena nods. "I know." She looks at the fading apparition of her mother, her gaze drinking in the faint smile. "So do I."

[pasteljeon]

Nymphet Garden 04: Lupine

Lupine - Lupinus angustifolius is a single species of a vast genus. Boasting one of the greatest variety in petal colors, lupine flowers are a symbol of merriment, that which is most commonly associated with the overcoming of a great trauma. They are also the symbol of imagination, associating themselves with the boundless possibilities that come with having a positive outlook on life. You would be all these things and more, that is, if you accepted the extraordinary.

➟ Based off this request: I’d like to request a multi-part fic with the reader being a solo!idol and the bts boys perhaps being big fanboy of hers? I’d love to see your take on this. I’d love some down and dirty smut too please! from @/stxrlxghtsora

➟ Summary: He was just a fanboy, they got dragged into it, and so blooms your love story.

➟ Pairing: OT7/Reader, non-idol!BTS, idol!Reader

➟ Warnings: angst, dom!taehyung, unprotected sex (please use protection!), 

➟ Length: 2.3k

➟ In collab with @/sugarcookiesandsins - please give her some love! ♡♡

➟ Notes: and so we return! sorry for the super long hiatus but we’re finally back on our feet. final part will be posted next wednesday by 11:59 EST!

Prologue. 01. 02. Prev. Final. (Links are still broken - please refer to my masterlist!)

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“Why didn’t you tell me?” Taehyung stared down at his plate, stabbing at the cold noodles lifelessly as he waited for the words he expected to hear. Tears began pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tried to make sense of what he had seen this morning.

And then what his best friends had just admitted to him.

“Why didn’t any of your think of telling ME?!” With each word, his tone became more hysterical as he clenched his chopsticks. A loud snap echoed through the quiet of the room as the pressure of his anger frustration finally broke the flimsy material, embedding small slivers of wood in his palm.

It is said that the brain prioritizes the risker injury so Taehyung didn’t even register the pain or the red blood swelling around the shards. He was too focused on the internal damage that had been caused to him.

He couldn’t believe that his best friends, the boys that were damn near his brothers would keep something as big as you sleeping with them from him. After Jimin, Taehyung was the second to really get into your music and the boys knew how hard he had worked on his singing alongside Seokjin to help with their final product for the contest.

“We’re sorry Tae. We just … didn’t know how you would feel. Or, for that matter, how she would feel.” Jin’s voice was soft, feeling most of the blame as he was one of the men Taehyung had discovered that morning, curled around __ along with Hoseok. Shifting his t-shirt, Jin tried to hide the marks that you had placed on his pale skin feeling like each purple splotch was adding more fuel to the fire burning in Taehyung’s eyes.

“I … I need some space,” Taehyung said stiffly, the lump in his throat growing as he excused himself quickly.

Pulling on a jacket, Taehyung left without a glance back, barely remembering to grab his phone on the way out. He wandered the streets, keeping eyes focused on the ground, and he told himself that he did it because their home was close to the campus and the last thing he needed was unwanted attention. But, that would be lying.

He was scared of remembering. Something told him that his relationship with his friends would no longer be the same. Even if they managed to agree on some level to never bring it up, every song that played on the radio or every advertisement that featured you would only serve to bring back the memories.

He was scared of looking up and seeing the restaurant all of you had eaten at a week ago, and then realizing that those carefree days would never happen again.

Ignoring the echoing laughter from other patrons, he turned up his collar and continued past, blending into the shadows of buildings that lined the street.

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His breath escaped in whisps as he stared up into the murky skies, not a hint of sun peeking through the thick layer of cloud cover. His fingers were cold from where they were stuffed hastily in his pocket, and he dimly registered that his whole body was trembling from the autumn chill.

An insistent buzzing told him they were looking for him, and when he pulled out his phone reluctantly, he refused to think more on it as he pressed your name.

“Taehyung.” His name was a relieved whisper, and he hated the way his chest warmed in spite of it all.

“___.” His voice was rough, and he knew you picked up on the wavering tone instantly.

A pause.

“Come over. Please,” you said softly. He let out a shaky sigh, not trusting himself to remain composed. “Okay, noona.”

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Stepping into your house, he didn’t know what to expect, but all thoughts stopped when he buried himself into your familiar scent of jasmine. You were wrapped around him, head buried into his chest not allowing him to see the tears maring the smooth planes of your cheek.

But his t-shirt was thin, and he would feel the damp feeling against his skin as you cried, both out of relief and frustration. The boys had called you, frantic with worry about their friend and explaining the situation. It didn’t help that the last you had seen of the boy had been the pain in his eyes as he looked back for the last time while helping Jin and Hoseok out of your house.

The three of you hadn’t tried to lie that morning; there was no use in doing so. Taehyung was a smart boy, and the pungent stench of sex stained the air.

Since then, you tried to go back to normal, attending practice and recordings, but you never forgot that look of broken glass reflecting in his dark eyes. You never thought that you would see a more heart wrenching look on a person, ever.

But the way he looked down at you in that moment, defeated, as if he knew of the broken glass but didn’t care to bother with it. You saw Taehyung in front of you, standing on broken glass as it cut through the soft flesh of his feet. He knew he couldn’t fix it, and didn’t care to at the point.

“Why … why everyone but me?” He wished he didn’t sound so weak, even to his own ears, and he drew away quickly, only to have your hands gripping his arms.

“It’s not like that,” you said quietly. Your eyes, glistening with tears, were bright and earnest. You clutched at the material of shirt, shaking your head. “None of it was planned, it all just sort of … happened. And trust me … if things had gone that way with you too, I would’ve loved nothing more than to be with you like that.”

“I need to know, ___. What are we to you?” Taehyung asked quietly. He had always been straight-forward, and you could tell the question had been eating him alive with the way his eyes burned into yours.

You remembered Jin asking you the same question the night before, and you may have forgotten about it, suddenly it came back for you like a steam train. Last night, you had remained silent. That wouldn’t work this time.

“Do you want this? Want … us?” His voice was barely a whisper, his expression so full of hope you exhaled sharply.

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you shut your eyes, releasing your hold, and this time it was him who grasped your wrists and pulled you close. Hesitatingly, you murmured, “Would it be so bad? To want you all ... to want to love you all?”

Taehyung’s grip slackened, but before you could second guess yourself, he slammed you against the wall and his lips covered yours. It was a messy clash of teeth and tongue as he poured all the emotions into the kiss. Mouth on mouth, your natural affinity on the offensive against the heat of his anger. Still, a mad Taehyung was a forced to be reckoned with and in the dark of your hallway, you gave into the way his body felt against yours.

With each hurried breath, you felt his chest against your front, the thin fabric of your t-shirt doing nothing to stop the scorching heat of his long fingers.

He wasted no time in dragging you in the direction of the couch and pushing you on it as he  single-handedly wrestled with his cotton t-shirt. It fell apart in shreds once both hands grabbed at it with infuriating determination.  

The clothing was soon forgotten as Taehyung immediately latched onto your legs. The male growled out a quick command to “stay still, babydoll” before he dragged your pliant body until your legs were hanging off the soft leather furniture and thighs were splayed for his perusal.

Calloused fingers, traced designs on on your legs, raising goosebumps all over your body. You glanced down, over the swell of your breasts to watch Taehyung. His previous rage seemed to be held in check as he focused on his hands, not believing for a second that he was in this moment. In dark irises, you saw soft pastels. He was capable of the most tender feelings among the boys, evident from the reverential way he caressed your bare skin, yet in the moment he had lost himself.

Turning back to your wide eyes, still rimmed with red from the remnants of your tears, the fire that had subdued, raged forth again. His impatience meant that there wouldn’t be much in terms of foreplay. He had fantasized about you, squirming and moaning in ecstasy as he brought you to heaven and back. Were you the silent type he wondered, vocal until the last minute until the pleasure of your release took your voice away. He had imagined you on the opposite side of the spectrum as well. The sultry voice of your music transformed into soft kitten moans, begging for more.

His lithe fingers pulled down the zipper of your shorts, exposing you to the cold air of your home. The sudden chill combined with the pressure of his finger made you arch off the couch, a loud moan reverberating on the walls.

“You’re mine. You’re ours ___.” A strained confirmation of the his wildest fantasies coming to life.

“All I wanted was you,” he whispered, breath ghosting across your ear as your spine arched against him. His grip on your hips loosened as Taehyung drew you close. His fingers tipped your chin to meet his gaze, pupils blown out but ringed with something sweet.

“Tae …,” his name escaped in a whisper, and he let out the faintest of sighs before burying his face in your neck. “___.” His lips traced your skin, and suddenly you were no longer fucking. His thrusts were languid, filling you to the brim before pulling out slowly. Your palm flattened against his chest, marvelling at the wide expanse of his shoulders. He braced his arms around you and pressed his lips against yours, tasting you with gentle licks.

He didn’t say much after, gaze piercing and eyes never leaving yours, closing only as he came, groaning lowly as you clenched around him.

He murmured something softly as he recovered, and you swore your heart never felt more full.

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Soft buzzing pierced the warm blanket where you were curled around Taehyung. Both of your naked forms still burning with the aftermath of your love for each other. Blearily opening your eyes, you glanced at the floof of soft hair brushing against your neck. Taehyung was definitely one of the more emotional of the group, but he tended to make the mistake of putting others before himself. They had been building up for a long time and this was the catalyst. Running one hand through the dyed strands, you stretched the other to grab your phone from the nightstand.

From between your eyelashes, you read the name flashing across your screens, sending a small blessing to the boys who, even at an ungodly hour in the morning, were still awake and worried about their friend. Connecting the call, you held it up to your ear. Immediately a cacophony of voices assaulted your ears. You responded to each and every enquiry, assuring Jin that, “Yes. He’s with me.” and making sure that Namjoon knew that the two of you had talked it out.

“What is this? What are we?” You rubbed the bridge of your nose tiredly. Jimin sounded exhausted himself, likely having had trouble sleeping. Jungkook had told you earlier how worried they’d all become with the way the dancer had holed himself up at the studio for the past week.

“This can be whatever you want it to be,” Taehyung stroked your cheek lightly, having been woken by the ringing of your cell. The blanket slipped down his naked torso as he wrapped an arm around your waist, thumbing the curve of your hip.

Losing yourself in his eyes, you almost forgot that you were still on call, the boys having gone pin-drop silent at the insinuation of Taehyung’s words and at the subsequent realization that they weren’t opposed to the idea.

“I -” you paused, staring at the hand that was resting on his pectoral. Sensing your distress, Taehyung placed his over yours, squeezing reassuringly.

“It’s okay to want this, ___,” he said. You took a breath.

“Be ours,” Yoongi said softly. The boys echoed his sentiment, and Taehyung’s eyes glowed a muted caramel.

You hesitated.

“Okay,” you said finally. A smile began to form, heart racing and feeling mildly dizzy, the firm grip he had on you the only thing anchoring you to reality.

He exhaled, dropping back onto the mattress as he laughed breathlessly.

“I think you owe us an apology, don’t you, baby girl?” Namjoon murmured huskily.

“I … y-yes,” you stammered as Taehyung leaned in, a sharp grin playing on his lips. “In that case, why don’t you come over? I know our kitten would much rather apologize in person.”

[royalcordelia]

Can’t You Hear the Wild Music? (7/7)

Summary: When the Great War sweeps away all of Canada’s able young men, Anne and Gilbert must endure leaving one another and gain the strength to fulfill their duties. A story told through narrative and letters.

Rated T • 5k words • Read the entire work on Ao3 • Start at Part 7

Anne may as well have been in no man’s land as the next months passed, with bullets whizzing past her ears and explosions bursting at either side of her feet. She heard it the loudest in the silence of her own room, with the chill Avonlea breeze sneaking in through her lacy window panes accompanied by the smell of autumn’s arrival. What an odd feeling it was, she pondered early one morning, to stand in the middle of a raging war in the isolation of her own bedroom.

She still hadn’t heard from Gilbert. It was a fact that seemed to play in her mind like a record player stuck on repeat, and each time she thought of it, a sharp ache stabbed at her chest. Was this how it was to be? A life spent teetering on the edge of suspense, the threat of tipping over into devastation realer than ever? She still wrote to Gilbert, but only when the loneliness of his absence grew too heavy to bear without some sort of release. She wrote to soldiers who knew him. He saved my life, Ma’am, wrote one soldier. It was months ago, but as soon as I could, I sat down to write this letter to you. I barely knew how to address it, only that Blythe would speak endlessly of his Anne-with-an-E in Avonlea, PEI.  You’ll tell him how obliged to him I am, won’t you miss? Such correspondence came at least once a week, from dozens of men, nurses, and doctors, but never from Gilbert.

All she could do was sit at her window at let the kind autumnal whispers of home lull her to sleep at night until the morning would come with its merciful distractions.

*

Avonlea smelled like sweet grass that Sunday afternoon when Anne opened the door to Bash and Mary. The fragrance flooded into Green Gables the way incense descends upon a church. Little Seb trailed in behind his parents, plucky fingers pinching the skirts of his mother’s dress. Just the sight of them was a balm on Anne’s soul, and she knelt down to take the young lad into an embrace. In that moment, their little makeshift family was complete.

“I hope you do not mind that we have come for our weekly visit a day earlier than usual,” Bash said carefully as Anne peppered kisses onto Little Sebbie.

“You know our home is always open to your family,” Marilla said, appearing in the hallway.

“Absolutely! We’re delighted to have you!” said Anne, scooping Seb into her arms and swinging him around. The lad’s brown curls tumbled into his eyes as laughter emitted from the tips of his toes. Was there ever a sweeter nephew? And those plump cheeks! Certainly Mary was keeping him well fed. “Sebbie, why don’t you and I go jump in the hay bales? Jerry left us some just yesterday!”

Marilla began to protest, but Mary interrupted in an odd voice before she could get more than a word out.

“Actually, I think that’s exactly what that poor boy needs. Hasn’t gotten out of the house with all that rain we’ve been having. We’ll be right here when you get back. Take your time.”

Sebbie intertwined his tiny fingers with Anne’s and tugged their arms back and forth like a tree swing. Heartstrings thoroughly tugged - he must’ve learned his puppy dog eyes from Gilbert - Anne looked toward Bash for approval. He hesitated for a moment, the expression on his face as solid as poured cement. Then, he bent his head and pressed a kiss to Sebbie’s head, then Anne’s, lingering on the golden hues in her hair.

“Make sure you’re eating enough, Queen Anne,” he said, pulling an apple from the basket in his hand and handing it to her. “Go enjoy yourselves.”  

“You’re sweet, Bash,” she replied, tucking the apple into her apron pocket. “Come on, Sebbie.”

The Lacroixs followed Marilla into the kitchen, but Anne could still feel Bash’s eyes on her as she shuffled Sebbie toward the door. Sebastian Jr. was an explosion of intelligence and chatter for a young lad of his age. Raised under the careful thumb of Mary and Sebastian, he was a well-behaved schoolboy, if not a bit eager. Influences from Anne and Gilbert had impressed the boy with a strong vocabulary, one that left his peers in his dust. Anne wondered if perhaps she’d finally met her match in a conversation partner.

“Guess what, Anne!? I found a butterfly on the steps last night. Momma let me put it in a jar and leave it next to my bed for the night, but I had to let it go early the next morning. Good thing, too, cause it almost died. And Tillie Boulter pushed me into the brook on Wednesday, but I only hurt my ankle a little. Too bad Gilbert isn’t here to look at it for me. Say Anne, did you know Gilbert was killed in France yesterday? That’s what the telegram said this morning.”

The oxygen disappeared from the room in an instant. The entire house went silent, each pair of nervous eyes landing on Anne.

Every one of her nerves was numb. There was a ringing in her ears that roared louder than Marilla’s gentle call of her name. Anne released Little Seb’s hand and took a few steps away, as if she might find a patch of oxygen in her shock. It was if every faculty in her brain had stopped working, making her brain a blank slate, her legs shaky. She was defenseless against the only sensation that seemed to blooming in her chest like one of the German bombs - agony, sharp and throbbing. It blurred her vision and stung behind her eyes where she tried to make sense of what Little Seb had said.

“Oh, Anne…” Marilla murmured, coming to the girl’s side. Anne shuffled back a few steps, cognizant enough to look up at Mary and Bash. They were waiting at the edge of the kitchen, looking at her the way people look at injured deer they stumble across but don’t know how to help. In the corner of her awareness, she noted the tears that had begun spilling down Mary’s flowery cheeks and the grief in Bash’s stern expression.

They knew. Of course they knew. It was why they visited early, Anne realized.

“I…” Anne stammered, unable to find the words that she needed. “Is...it true?”

Marilla took it upon herself. She had raised the girl, after all. It was only right to speak this truth to her now.

“It is. Gilbert died in combat earlier yesterday. Oh Anne, I am so, so sorry, dear heart. Little Sebastian probably doesn’t know any better and...well, we didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

Anne’s arms wrapped at her elbows. It was getting harder to breathe, her inhales coming in shallow gasps.

“But his commanding general wrote that it was quick and painless,” Bash interjected. “He didn’t suffer at all. When they found him, he was peaceful.”

The words were meant to soothe her, but all they did was paint a horrible picture in every space of her mind. It was all she could see, her dear love laying in the mud of France, life stripped from him with no comfort or chance for last words. He would be buried there, she imagined, amongst the French flowers far from their Canadian shoreline.

She would never see him again. He was gone.

It was then that her legs collapsed from underneath her. Her hand caught the edge of the bannister seconds before her knees could crash against the unforgiving floor. The taste of salt fell on her trembling lips, and before the grief could cloud over her completely, she reached out a hand toward Marilla. The gray woman fell by her side in an instant, just in time to catch the girl who had finally lost all her strength.

Anne knelt beside her mother figure, face buried in her skirts, and wept with the bitterest of broken hearts. Her soul was wracked, her bones weary, her strength drained away like an open wound on the fields of France.

*

Anne slept through her pain in the days that came, her tired body welcoming respite from its heartache. Bash and Diana visited daily, sometimes Ruby, even Cole paid a call on a dreary afternoon - but Anne would see nobody but the Cuthberts and the doctor, who was charged with making sure the girl wasn’t withering away.

“I’m only a physical doctor,” the man had said. Anne squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to picture Gilbert as the successful country doctor he always wanted to be. “But I know some about matters of the heart. Let yourself grieve, Miss Shirley. You only hurt yourself by holding it in.”

She said nothing in reply, but crept out of bed when she thought no one was watching, and found herself at the seaspray cliffs of Prince Edward Island. She gazed out, cheeks misty with salty brine and tears, and wondered what the sunsets looked like in Europe. It was the type of magenta sight that the romantics wrote sonnets about, the sort of natural beauty that usually sent an artistic thrill through Anne. It was the same sunset that she could recall sitting under with Gilbert time and time again, aching to lean across the tall grass and kiss his gentle smile.

A whimper escaped her lips, untraceable in the sound of the ocean’s waves. There was so much to say, so much left unsaid, and she wanted to be heard. For once, she wanted the Almighty to listen to her prayers and frustrations and pain.

And so, on the cliffs of Prince Edward Island, Anne Shirley released a broken scream of grief and anger. She hoped that it raged against the oceans, parted the seas and shot like lightning through the gray autumn skies. She roared and sobbed and howled and wept, until there was nothing left in her. At least some of the pain in her heart was replaced by a rawness in her throat, and still she felt lighter.

Then she walked back home, climbed up the stairs to her gable room, and thought for the first time in a week that she might be able to stomach some broth.

*

Weeks later, Anne was on her feet again. The smile had gone from her eyes - possibly gone for good - but she found it possible to walk down Lover’s Lane without shaking and eat her meals without expelling them. Strangely enough, she found comfort in the company of the Lacroixs, whose existence to her was nothing but a reminder of what she had lost. They had lost the same thing, though, and it brought them together. They came together for meals with more frequency than ever before, always at Green Gables.

“I just don’t think I can go to that house yet, Marilla,” Anne explained quietly. She did not have to explain twice.

But a day or two later, something in her changed. She found herself desperate for things that held pieces of him and the life that he lived. She’d read his letters over and over and over, read the books that he loaned her, walked the roads they walked together, but none of it seemed enough.

“I think I’d like to go bring Bash and Mary this pie,” Anne decided one day, hints of her usual determination showing signs of revitalization. “They’ve brought over so much food in the last weeks that I think I’m overdue in returning the favor.”

“Are you sure, Anne?” Matthew said cautiously from the kitchen table, folding his newspaper.

“Mostly,” she replied, though her tone did not match her sentiment. “I can’t keep going on avoiding the things that hurt too much.”

“But you don’t have to confront things you’re ill equipped to handle,” Marilla cut in. “I’ll have Jerry bring the pie over and you can-”

“No, I’m quite well enough to bring it over myself. I appreciate your concern, both of you,” Anne said resolutely.

And that was that, for Matthew and Marilla had learned some time ago that when it came to challenging a determined Anne, one must choose their battles wisely. This battle they waved their white flags to, and watched with worried frowns as Anne headed down a forest road she could traverse blind.

The Blythe house looked the same as ever it did, with its silver colored bricks and humble porch. Memories of time spent here threatened to burst in uninvited thoughts, but Anne bit the inside of her cheek and pushed them aside. She knocked, picturing Bash opening the door with his usual greeting of, “Well, if it isn’t Queen Anne!” But Bash didn’t appear, nor did Mary or even little Seb.

“I suppose I could just leave the pie on the counter. Maybe I’ll add a nice little note,” Anne pondered. Her own pretend of the old regularity of her personality had nearly fooled her. But the bluff fell to pieces the second she opened the door.

God, the house still smelled like him - or maybe he smelled like the house - but it was enough to stagger her. She gripped the edge of the doorframe, took a breath, then made her way through the familiar rooms.

“Sebastian? Mary?” she called out, but no one answered. With the same urgency that comes with rushing an injection to get it over with, Anne scurried into the empty kitchen, dropped the pie on the counter like it burned. She stumbled out of the back door and gasped for the clean air that greeted her. “Oh, maybe Marilla and Matthew were right,” she scolded herself as she swiped a few stray tears from her freckled cheeks.

Her gaze fell on the Blythe garden, the very one that Gilbert had planted himself in memory of his parents. Strange, she thought, that even though she could easily picture him kneeling in the soil, she couldn’t feel his presence with her in the shadows under the trees. She couldn’t feel him around at all, but how could he have just abandoned her? It wasn’t possible.

Anne knelt beside the flowers, fighting back another one of her crying spells. She’d wept so much in the past days that surely she had to be running out of tears by now.

She heard the door behind her open, followed by two quiet steps.

“I’m fine, Bash,” she stammered, running her palms against her cheeks. “I’ll - I’ll come inside in just a second. I just need a moment to...Oh, I don’t mean to cry, but it seems I can never stop... I’m fine, just...it’s...”

“Anne.”

All at once, the world of broken pieces and shattered dreams fell back into place, returning to their wholeness. Had she heard correctly? Eyes wide open, Anne turned with painstaking slowness toward the voice she never thought she’d hear again. The sight was ambrosia to her marred heart.

“Gilbert?” And then, in a reverent prayer - “ Gilbert.”

There he was - much like he’d left her. Chestnut curls, khaki regimentals, and hazel eyes that never tired of looking upon her in their adoration. Some things were different, of course. He had lost his leg, after all, and the experience of it had aged him, beginning with the empty air under his knees. Dark hairs lined his chin, only partially groomed, and his shoulders were straighter around the edges.

She barely recognized him, but there was no denying it - Gilbert Blythe was alive. He was alive and home and gaping at her like a man who had just stared into the face the universe.

Anne rose to her feet, the skirts of her pale turquoise dress brushing against the flowers. The shock on his face melted into sunshine warmth, and he began to hobble toward her with unsteady movements. Anne was quick to shorten the distance between them, opening her arms to catch Gilbert when he fell into her. The crutch he had tucked under his arm fell down at his side, forgotten, as he wrapped his arms around her frame. Brilliant huffs of warm breath sent chills down Anne’s neck where he had buried his face in joyous laughter.

“Oh Anne, how I’ve missed you!” he whimpered. “How I’ve missed you so.”

Anne felt as though she might burst into flames with happiness and love. She stroked his soft hair, kissed his temple, and swayed in her happiness.

“I thought you were dead, Gilbert!” she cried. “They told me you were dead!”

This only caused him to hold on tighter, and Anne wasn’t sure if it was his embrace or her own joy that was keeping the air from her lungs. But then he pulled back, and took her face in his hands, his eyes lingering for a few heartbeats.

“I know. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you. But it was all a misunderstanding, sweetheart. An enemy soldier stole my uniform and my identification. He was the one they found dead.” He pressed his lips to her brow. “I’m home for you, Anne. I won’t leave you again, I swear it.”

Anne could contain herself no longer. She pushed herself onto her toes and kissed Gilbert with the love and passion and pain she’d had within her in his absence. The taste of him was sweet, like fragrant forest breezes and wild clover. There was traces of the sunset too, with all its warmth and beauty. He kissed her back with as much reverence as a poet scribing phrases of happiness eternal. Their lips kissed and danced as though they hadn’t had years of separation and Anne felt the grief of the last weeks washing away.

“Thank God,” Anne whimpered as she pulled away, memorizing the shimmers in his eyes. “Oh, I feel like I’ve had three lifetimes worth of joy all at once. Why didn’t you send word? The last letter I received from you, I thought...”

“What last letter?” Gilbert queried, brushing a stray hair away from her face.

“Doctor Simard sent it just in time for Christmas Eve last year. You’d written it in the hospital. It must’ve been right after…” She looked down at his injured leg. “The way you wrote, well, I could only assume you were dying.”

“None of that for now, Anne,” Gilbert scolded. “I’ll tell you the full story later. For now, let this weary soldier hold his lady love as I’ve longed to since I boarded the train in Charlottetown.”

And she did for a few moments, tucking her head into the nook under his chin so that she might breathe the scent of him.

“Have you gotten taller?” she whispered.

“A bit. I learned when my pants had to be adjusted” he admitted. “And you, Anne. Why you’re every bit as beautiful as when I left, and more. When did you start wearing your hair like this?”

“When I turned twenty. Marilla insisted.”

“Well, the sight of you nearly swept the breath from me for good.”

“And the sight of you has healed every aching corner of me. I truly thought the loss of you would end me. I know you’re here now, and do you know Gilbert? I would marry you right this instant if I could.” Gilbert opened his mouth to say more, but a realization snuck up on Anne faster than he could speak.  “Why not, then?”

Gilbert’s lips trembled as he watched Anne take her comforting hands in his and kneel down at his feet.

“Gilbert Blythe, if being separated from you has taught me anything, it’s that there is no one I want to share life with more than you. If you’ll have me, I’ll stay by your side until the very end, loving you and supporting you with everything that I have. I won’t waste the opportunity. Marry me right now, Gilbert, and I'll willingly accept the sorrow of life with its joy. Marry me in this humble grove amongst the falling leaves and the Avonlea sunset, with your garden as our chapel and no one but the Almighty here to officiate.”

“It’s hardly conventional,” Gilbert said breathlessly, letting Anne’s strong grasp bear the struggle of his standing. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” she replied in her Anne-like resolution.

That was all Gilbert needed to hear. He lowered himself down to the ground, ignoring the pain in his leg, and met Anne at their earthly altar. With hands still held tightly in hers, Gilbert pressed his forehead against hers and took a deep breath.

“I, Gilbert Blythe, take-”

“No no no, let me go first!” Anne interrupted sweetly, rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles. Gilbert nodded with a chuckle, and watched as Anne breathed in her courage, sunlight warming the tones of her cheeks and lips. The sight of her was more lovely than his heart was prepared to take, but he focused his attention on Anne and let each of his nerves feel their joy.

“I, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, take you, Gilbert John Blythe, matched to my intellect, proponent of my happiness, friend of my heart, to be my life mate. I swear to you, the Almighty Providence as our witness, that I love you now and will always love you. Let us dance together as equal partners through the years, through sickness and health, for richer, for poorer, until the infinite eternity.”

Gilbert let out a breathless chuckle, and when Anne lowered her gaze to look upon his face, she found that he was hiding streaked cheeks. Tears glistened on the tips of his lashes the way rain balances on leaves and petals. She brought her thumb up to caress the soft skin and brush away the moisture.

“I don’t know if I can remember all that,” he admitted quietly, nuzzling his head against hers. “Help me out?”

Anne laughed through her own tears, and nodded. Gilbert took a steadying breath, acutely aware of the rustling of leaves and the harmonizing birdsong above them. He’d dreamt for years about what it would be like to marry Anne - who he’d like to have there, what time of day, what she’d be dressed in. But this was perfect. Anne in her morning sky dress with chiffon sleeves and a narrow waist. The spirit of Prince Edward Island as their sole guest. Her beautiful words as their vows.

“I, Gilbert Blythe, take you, Anne Shirley Cuthbert…”

“Matched to my intellect,” she prodded.

“Matched to my intellect, proponent of my happiness, friends of my heart, to be my lifemate. I will love you today and tomorrow as much as I did the first day we met. I promise to take care of you and to stay by your side as your husband, for richer, for poorer…” Gilbert swallowed another lump in his throat and Anne tightened her clasp. “Until the infinite eternity.”

Anne was still for a moment, then reached down beside them and plucked some lily-of-the-valley. Gilbert watched, mesmerized, as she broke off a few short segments and twisted them with a delicate touch into rings. Then, she took Gilbert’s hand and slid the larger of the rings onto his left ring finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” she said, not feeling the least bit dramatic or silly. She handed him the other and held out her hand. The braided ring was fragile in his touch, but he brought her knuckles to his lips and slid the ring into place.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” he repeated back, heart heavy with delight.

Anne didn’t wait a second longer. She took her husband’s face in her loving hands and kissed him with tender adoration. Gilbert was swift to kiss his bride with the fire of passion that had kept him alive in his fever. He hoped that she could taste each of his dreams on the tip of his tongue - their house of dreams, their children, pieces of their future that suddenly had hope of falling back into place.

*

True to the promises in his letters, Gilbert took Anne into his room and loved her the way a man loves his wife. He reacquainted herself with her soul, introduced himself to her body, and delighted in worshiping every inch of porcelain flesh that careened to his touch. It was clumsy and self conscious in the beginning, but their fears gave way to the sight of one another bare in the orange of the island sunset. They laughed, wept, and cried out in the bliss they found together. As Gilbert loved her, Anne held onto his shoulders and wondered if the years of separation had come to mean something after all.

*

They were loath to break their touch, fingers entwined at the tips as they trailed back down the stairs, satisfied and love struck. They were at the foot of the creaky staircase when the front door swung open and Sebastian stepped in.

The older man froze upon seeing Anne and Gilbert before him, dropping his crate of groceries.

“Hey Bash,” Gilbert spoke up tenderly, unable to mask the lump in this throat. The brothers moved at the same time, clasping each other in a strong hold for several seconds, until Bash opened one arm and gestured for Anne to step in. There they swayed in joy and laughter, a family finally complete again.

*

“So tell it to me straight, boy,” Bash began slowly from across Gilbert at the dining room table. “How exactly is it that you managed to fight off the great Piper?”

Gilbert glanced at Anne, taking her hand to steady his nerves at the memory of what he’d gone through.

“It wasn’t easy, I’ll give you that. I’d been treating a soldier who had a leg injury. The wound had become infected and he was moving a lot slower due to fever. Our medical tent fell under enemy fire, I went out to assist him. A bullet struck a gas tank, and well,” Gilbert gestured at his amputated leg, “you can see what happened.”

“I still don’t understand how your identification papers got stolen,” Anne said. “How was it possible they didn’t know it was you that died.”

Gilbert looked down at the woodgrain of the table and sighed.

“My picture of you was included in the papers. Soldiers don’t carry around pictures of women they don’t love, I suppose. My own amputation became infected and I barely made it to an Ally medical tent in time. That’s when I wrote that odd letter you received, Anne. But they moved me around too much and after my papers were stolen, no one knew who I was.”

“It’s a miracle you’re home,” Bash exhaled. “One that will make me a church-going man. I don’t think I’ll forget my nightly prayers now.”

“No,” Gilbert laughed. “I don’t think I will either.”

*

At the end of the night, when all the stories had been told and all the tears had been shed, Gilbert walked Anne back to Green Gables. Through the window frame, Anne caught Marilla’s eye, who must have seen the pair strolling up the lane. Marilla brought a hand up to her mouth, then moved it down to her heart.

“Well, I don’t think Avonlea is going to forget this anytime soon. I know I won’t,” Anne said quietly. She stood a head taller than Gilbert on her front steps, the perfect height to brush back his dark hair. “That’s alright. We were due for some good news.”

“We were,” Gilbert agreed reverently, leaning into her touch. “You’ll come over tomorrow?”

“Mhm. I want to be there when the doctor gets there to check your wound.”

“Good. As soon as I’ve settled in a little bit, I’d like to go into town and pick out a real troth ring and gold bands.” Anne traced her nails over the contours of his hands.

“I was thinking that maybe we should have another ceremony - you know, for our friends and family,” she suggested.

A breeze swept past them, the island’s way of agreeing.

“I think that sounds nice,” Gilbert replied with a smile. “I’ve always wanted to see you in a white gown and a lace veil.”

“Heavens, anything to avoid having to confront Mrs. Lynde with the truth that we eloped .”

“That can stay our secret.” The love drunk expression had returned to his eyes, and Anne felt herself mimicking the warmth right back at him. “Get some rest, darling. You’ve had a difficult few weeks.”

“Yes doctor,” Anne murmured, sending a shiver down Gilbert’s spine. “You too. Sleep plenty tonight. I’ll be by as soon as I can tomorrow. I don’t even want to let you out of my sight.”

Gilbert tilted his head up, letting his eyes fall closed when the night breeze carried the sweet smell of her hair to him. Anne met him halfway, pressing her lips against his for what seemed like the billionth time. She didn’t care, though. She’d never tire of adding kisses to the neverending of tender touches they shared.

“I love you terribly, Gilbert,” she whispered when they parted. “Thank you for keeping your promise to come home to me.”

Gilbert snuck another kiss onto her and forced himself back a step.

“I love you too, Queen Anne. Thank you for never giving up on me, for bringing me home.”

She watched him leave, with his crutch and his chin held high, until he had disappeared into the shadows of the night. Marilla was waiting for her when she moved onto dreamy feet back into her own home, but Anne only shook her head.

“He’s alive, Marilla. That’s all there is to it.”

The complete story could wait until the morning. For now, that small phrase was all that was needed to give Anne and Green Gables its usual life back, colorful and jubilant. She stood alone in her room, body and heart tired from the oscillation of events that day. In the candlelight she whispered her thanks to the universe, to the kindness of fate who had delivered her love back home to her.

“It is like Marilla always quotes,” Anne murmured as she tucked herself into bed. “‘Weeping may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning.’”

[karis17love]

Nothing, just Lost Records: Bloom & Rage aesthetic 💕

[satoshi-mochida]

DON’T NOD announces Lost Records: Bloom & Rage for PS5, Xbox Series, and PC

Gematsu Source

DON’T NOD has announced Lost Records: Bloom & Rage for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, and PC (Steam). It will launch in 2024.

Here is an overview of the game, via DON’T NOD:

Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is a brand-new story-driven journey through time from the creative minds behind Life is Strange. The magical summer of 1995 is one of self-discovery and forging unbreakable bonds for high school friends Swann, Nora, Autumn, and Kat. 27 years of no contact later, fate reunites them to confront the long-buried secret that made them promise to never speak again.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View t he first screenshots at the gallery.

Announce Trailer

[tomorrowedblog]

First look at Lost Records: Bloom & Rage

A new trailer has been released for Lost Records: Bloom & Rage. No release date was specified.

The magical summer of 1995 is one of self-discovery and forging unbreakable bonds for high school friends Swann, Nora, Autumn, and Kat. 27 years of no contact later, fate reunites them to confront the long-buried secret that made them promise to never speak again.