#second ones from a few days ago when the sunrise was really lovely with the snow outside

[ciearcab]

misc irl studies for fun

[bonzirelle]

Out Of Sync

paring: idol!bangchan x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: cursing(like two), arguing(idk if that counts), kissing

summary: Chan’s been pushing himself to the edge for the sake of the group, while you’re growing more and more worried about his mental health. But all he sees is the music—the deadlines, the pressure, the need to keep going. Your concerns don’t match his priorities, and slowly, it starts to pull your relationship apart.

dolle’s note: i wrote one little channie’s room reference..please lmk if you saw it!!

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

It’s close to one in the morning and you were getting more tired with every second that passed by. Eyes dropping ever few minutes and everything was going quiet, well, everything except for the sound of Chan humming a melody to himself while tapping a pencil against his mini notebook. Usually this wouldn’t worry or bother you, his work never really has, but lately it’s getting to a point. He damn near stays up until sunrise and some days he doesn’t even come home from the studio. You’re lucky Jisung practically dragged him out of the room, or else you knew he would still be in there pushing himself to the brink of passing out.

You knew about Chan’s passion for music, it’s never been hidden. You would actually be more concerned if he didn’t mention music for a day. You’ve always supported him and his decisions when it comes to music writing and producing, you always have so it would be kind of weird to you if you didn’t. But more frequently you’ve been second guessing letting him stay up late like this. He stays in the studio for a whole day and misses meals. You know it’s not healthy for him and he knows it too. But he’s too blinded by his love for music that he’s neglecting his own personal health.

“Chan, it’s getting late. You should come to bed.” You sounded so tired, and that’s because you were extremely exhausted.

For the first few seconds he was completely silent continuing to be hunched over a spiral notebook while writing lyrics.

“Just give me a second.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

A sigh fell from his lips, he pauses his movements for a second to see if you would say anything else, but when you didn’t he just went right back to writing as if you went basically pleading for him to lay with you. Yeah, you were worried about him and his health, but you’ve also been starting to feel much more lonely and empty lately. You didn’t want to make this about yourself so you stayed quiet not to worry or stress him out even further. After a few more moments of silence from the both of you, you wrap a throw blanket around your shoulders and get out of the bed then made your way over to his desk.

“Chan, i’ve literally been waiting for you to get in bed since you’ve come home. You came here at ten…it’s almost one in the morning.”

You watched him start to bounce his leg while you we’re talking like he was trying to distract himself from something.

“I never asked you to wait for me. You shouldn’t even be up right now. You have work in the morning, don’t let me keep you from going to sleep.”

“That’s the point, Chan. I literally can’t sleep without you.”

He started to roll his eyes as you spoke. You knew he was burning himself out but that didn’t give him the right to be annoyed at you, you didn’t do anything but wait for him. That’s what you’ve always done. Gave him time no matter what. You know no one is perfect so you ah to give him the benefit of the doubt, you wouldn’t get too snappy or angry at him for being up like this.

“Can you just leave alone for one fucking moment? God, you’re so clingy for no reason. Just go to sleep.”

His words hurt way more than they were supposed to. You’ve always looked at Chan as someone who would never say anything hurtful or mean to you. That’s how he’s always been.

“Oh, i’m clingy? God forbid i wanted to wait for my boyfriend to actually get to sleep with him.”

After you got nothing but silence from him, you scoff and go back over to your bed.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered while tucking the sheets back and wrapping yourself in them. You tried not to get too worked up over this but you just really wanted to feel Chan’s arms around you after days of him coming home late. He was like the feeling of coming home to a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold. Still, he was being stubborn and continued to write away in his notebook instead hearing you out and acting spending some time with you and this time you just accepted it. It’s not like much would change anyway.

You fell asleep pretty quickly considering it was really late. While you began to drift off in complete silence, you felt the bed dip down beside you and a familiar scent of lemon and complete sweetness then knew it was Chan. Well, i mean who else would it have been?

“Babe..you up?” You nod your head a little, not having the strength to speak. He let out a very soft sigh through his nostrils while tucking some of your hair behind his ears. “Good night, baby…” He leans down to press a light kiss to your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything this time, just reaches over and pulls you close. You let him. His hand finds yours under the blanket, fingers lacing slowly. A shaky breath leaves his nose. Then, so soft you almost miss it—“’Night.” He presses a kiss to your temple and closes his eyes. And everything feels like it’ll be just fine.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

[keisgirl]

stuck in your orbit; kozume kenma

pairing; classmate!kenma x reader

wc; 1.5k ish

1 those eyes/ 2 all because i liked a boy/ 3 / 4 fool for you

sorry 😼 anon!! i didn’t really finish with your prompt but ILY FOR GIVING THAT PROMPT!!

you’d never thought you’d stop caring about where kenma kozume was during the school day. a few months ago, it was like your every move was calculated—strolling by his usual hangouts, lingering outside class to catch a glimpse of him, or even timing your lunch break just right. it was always intentional, always for him.

but now? now you were just walking with your friends, minding your own business, yet somehow he was everywhere.

the holidays had changed you. it wasn’t some dramatic, movie-worthy transformation—no dramatic "cutting your hair in the mirror" moment. no, it was quieter, slower. your cousin dragged you to the gym at sunrise, your best friend convinced you to try on new clothes that somehow made you feel like you were walking a little taller, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you stopped thinking about everyone else.

including kenma.

well, you tried.

maybe it was easier to forget him in the haze of late-night calls with your friends or early mornings baking with your mom. maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, you weren’t trying so hard to impress anyone. your love, your time, your energy—it was yours. just yours. and when school started again, you felt lighter, freer, even if the familiar halls threatened to pull you back into old habits.

you saw him again at lunch.

it wasn’t supposed to matter anymore. you’d told yourself over and over—he didn’t like you like that, you’d accepted it, moved on. but when you saw him under that tree, headphones around his neck, scrolling on his phone while his friends sprawled out beside him, your heart didn’t get the memo.

it was instinct to glance his way, but this time, he glanced back. his hazel eyes—warm, golden, and distracting as ever—locked onto yours, and for a second, you forgot how to walk.

“wait, is kenma staring at you?” one of your friends asked, nudging your side.

“no,” you lied, but the way your heart pounded said otherwise. you turned away quickly, acting as if you hadn’t noticed the way his gaze lingered even as you passed.

the next few days blurred into a strange, confusing routine. kenma was suddenly everywhere.

not because you were trying to see him—no, this was different. you’d be heading to your locker, and there he’d be, leaning against the wall with one of his friends. you’d walk into the library, and he’d already be there, headphones on, typing away on his laptop. even walking to class felt like some strange game of fate, where you’d glance up and find him watching you from across the hall.

“is it just me, or is kenma always around lately?” your friend teased, nudging you as you grabbed your books.

“it’s just a coincidence,” you replied quickly, brushing it off. “he probably doesn’t even notice me.”

but he did. you weren’t imagining the way his gaze lingered, the way he seemed to turn up wherever you were.

it happened after class one day.

you were gathering your things, chatting idly with your friend, when someone tapped your shoulder.

“you dropped this,” kenma said, holding out a pen you didn’t even realize you’d dropped.

“oh, thanks,” you replied, surprised. your fingers brushed his as you took it, and you swore he hesitated just a little longer than necessary before pulling away.

“i like your hair, by the way,” he said, so casually it took a moment for the words to sink in.

“what?”

“your hair,” he repeated, glancing at you briefly before looking away. “it suits you.”

“oh—uh, thanks.” your heart raced, caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.

the next day, he said something else. this time, it was about your uniform.

“that color looks nice on you,” he commented when you passed him in the hall.

you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “what?”

“your uniform,” he said, his tone as nonchalant as ever, though there was a faint warmth in his gaze. “i like it.”

you laughed nervously. “well, good, because i don’t have a choice.”

he smiled—an actual, genuine smile—and for a moment, it felt like the world had shifted.

despite the compliments, you couldn’t quite shake your confusion. why now? why, after months of silence, was kenma suddenly noticing you? you tried not to think about it too much, but the questions lingered in the back of your mind.

it all came to a head one afternoon when you ran into him on your way to the library.

“you’re here a lot lately,” he said, falling into step beside you.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, i keep seeing you everywhere,” he replied, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “funny, i was about to say the same thing about you.”

he shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe we’re just walking in the same circles now.”

“maybe,” you said, though the way his gaze lingered on you suggested there was more to it than that.

as the weeks went on, kenma’s quiet attention became a constant in your life.

he didn’t talk much—he was still kenma, after all—but when he did, his words carried weight. a soft compliment here, a fleeting glance there. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart race, enough to make you wonder if maybe, just maybe, things were changing between you.

and yet, the doubts lingered. after all, you’d heard it from his own friends—he didn’t like you like that. he’d said so himself.

but then there were moments, fleeting and fragile, that made you question everything.

like the way he’d hold the door open for you without a word, or the way he’d glance your way during class when he thought you weren’t looking. like the way he said your name, soft and careful, as if it meant something to him.

“hey,” he said one afternoon, stopping you in the hall. “you, uh, free this weekend?”

“why?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart raced.

“just thought... maybe we could hang out or something,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. “oh—yeah, sure. that sounds fun.”

he nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “cool. i’ll text you.”

and just like that, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble.

[heartmix]

Never Be - Jack Hughes

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K+ (with lyrics)

Warning: theres angst, pre-devils Jack

A/N: inspired by never be by 5sos. this is not how i wanted to end the fic but it just went in that direction

Masterlist \ Hockey Masterlist

We'll never be as young as we are now It's time to leave this old black and white town

"Let's leave."

"What?" Lifting your head to look at him beside you on the couch to ensure you heard him right. Both of you were in the Hughes family basement enjoying a film you knew he wasn't really paying attention to. Everyone else was asleep upstairs, ditching the both of you two movies ago.  

"Let's leave, go somewhere. No turning back." He repeated giving you a serious expression. Jack was full of surprises and you've learned to love that about him but the look in his eyes tonight was different. There was no pinpointing what emotion he was feeling but you knew he needed this, whatever this was. 

"What's gotten into that brain of yours Hughes?"

"This is the last time we get to be young and dumb. By next week, we'll be both adults off to do our own thing. Just one last time being a teenager with you."

"Well, what do you wanna do? Where do you wanna go?"

"Follow me." He said holding out his hand. Glady taking it you let him pull you off the couch and straight to his car. 

Jack wasn't exactly sure where he was driving to; he didn't have a destination in mind. He just wanted to leave the town with you and soak in the few moments you had left together before his world changed. By this time next week, he would already be practicing at the devil's rink and you would be moving into your new college dorm. As much as he didn't want to think about it, he wouldn't get the chance to talk to you every day. From the stories Quinn has told he would be lucky to catch you when you both are free or when in the same time zone when he's away for games. The Hughes brothers, as close as they are were lucky to catch a back-to-back conversation when the season started. 

I've seen myself here in your eyes I stay awake 'til the sunrise I wanna hold you hold you all night I wanna tell you that you're all mine

The farthest place Jack could think of going was the lookout where the both of you were frequent visitors. He remembered the first time he took you here. It was just a few years ago when he was learning how to drive and accidentally took the wrong turn. Between the nervousness from driving and you teasing him every second of being so nervous, he ended up on the lookout. A happy accident that became both of your spots.

"This might be your last view of our spot for a while." He looked over seeing you take in the sight yourself. 

"Same goes for you, you had to move away for college."

"You had to move away for hockey." teasing back, Jack couldn't help the hint of a smirk pulling from his lips. 

A moment of silence passed through. The only sound was from nature surrounding you both. There was no telling what time it was, time seemed to not exist but at the same time moving faster than he would like. If he could take this moment with you in his arms watching the slowness of the town, he would hang it on every wall so it would make it feel like it never ended. 

"What's going on with you Jacky?"

"I'm just taking this in before leaving." He didn't want to meet her eyes, he was holding on by a thread, and with one more push, he was going to spill his guts. 

"I thought we came to terms with this changing?"

"We did. I came to terms with leaving for New Jersey, not leaving you." There it was. The thing he was trying to hold back and not tell you. He didn't want to guilt trip you and make you feel bad. This occurrence was part of growing up, they weren't the first people to experience this change. 

"Jack.." 

"You are the only constant I had in my life these few years, I don't remember a time we've been apart for a long period of time."

"We'll see each other at Christmas right? that's just a few months away." He knew what you were trying to do and although you giving him hope usually cheered him up, it didn't work this time. 

"Might as well be a whole lifetime."

"You're not making this any easier for me." looking at you he saw tears welling up in your eyes. That wasn't what he wanted to do and he wished he could take back what he just said. 

"I thought you accepted it already." 

"I accepted it until tonight. I've been trying so hard to accept it and it took me nights of crying to be okay and here you are not moving on and it's breaking down my walls." at this point the tears couldn't stop and just kept following. he's never seen you like this, breaking down about the two of you being apart. You were always the strong and level head one out of the two, so seeing this right now he wished more than anything he could be in control of time. Reversing it so he never poured his heart out or freezing it so the both of you could stay like this forever. 

"Why didn't you tell me you've been crying?" The crack in his voice snapped something in you.

"Because you're going to the freakin NHL. I was with you on draft day and saw all the excitement from everyone. How selfish would I be if I told you I was sad about you moving away from me."

"Now you know how feel when I read your acceptance letter to a school on the other coast."

A beat of silence passed before either of them said anything. This was the first time both of you confessed how you were really feeling. Jack knew you were feeling upset about the change just like him, but hearing you confess how it was affecting you tugged at his heart even more. 

"Can you promise me one thing?" Her ask almost came out as a whisper, like she wasn't sure if she wanted to say it.

"Anything you want."

"When you make it big, and you get new friends, a new life in Jersey, a girlfriend, and start a family, promise that you'll never forget me. I'll be good with one call a year or a text for my birthday. I don't think I could take being out of your life for good." The confession made him mad. What was she even talking about? Did she really think that she could be replaced so easily, after being connected by the hips since grade school? 

"Baby, what are you saying? I'm never ever going to forget you. You are my person and the only constant I want in my life. If you are down the road from me or on a different coast, you'll always be mine. Don't think for one second I'll want to find someone else. I want you and I'm happy with any way I'll get that."

"Jack you're not saying what I think you're saying." He was. He didn't want to confess it this way but hearing all the nonsense she was talking about, he needed to end those thoughts right now. 

"I am. I just haven't had the courage to tell you until now."

"I need to ask you for one more thing." The tone in her voice made him scared. Of course, she wouldn't feel the same way. 

With the last bit of dignity he had left he still wondered what she wanted to say, "What is it?"

"I need you to tell me this when we aren't about to move away from each other. It can't be at Christmas or off seasons also. I need you to tell me this when we have adulthood somewhat figured out. If you still feel the same way, tell me then." Although it wasn't what he wanted to hear, he was glad she felt the same way. Of course, she wanted to be logical while in the heat of emotion. 

"I've felt like this for years, if I have to wait a bit longer I will." A smile cracked through. He wasn't kidding. He's waited years since they first entered high school, what difference does it make if he has to wait for her to finish college? 

"We'll see."

"Can we pretend for the last few hours we have tonight? I wanted to remember this."

"You got until sunrise Jacky." With a content smile, he pulled you into his side, entangling your fingers together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. If he had to wait a few years so be it. 

We'll never be as young as we are now As young as we are now

[spiderfunkz]

✦ RING, RING, RING!

"i think i can really fall in love with him."

word count : 0,9k

warnings : fluff, fem!reader, gwen is mentioned to be readers best friend, harry is mentioned as well, cutesy first dates, peter being just so madly in love & so are you. not proofread!

a/n : inspired by that one scene from 'before sunrise' where celine and jesse pretend to call their friends and tell them about each other :)) also i know i'm late to valentines but it's still february sooooo

if you told yourself a few days ago that you'd be spending valentines day with peter parker, you would laugh at the thought of it.

but right now you couldn't laugh at anything but peter's stupidly unfunny jokes and his cheesy, dry, pickup lines.

you couldn't imagine what valentines would be like with peter parker, but you don't have to. you're experiencing it right now.

he had asked you in a way you've only seen in rom-coms from the 90s. he knocked on your door with a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers, a heart shaped box full of chocolate, and a nervous nerdy smile.

and you accepted it obviously. peter's nice. really nice. out of all the boys in your class, he's a gentleman compared to them.

he's got those big brown doe eyes that make you blush if you make eye contact. that weirdly fluffy hair, that makes you wonder what his hair care routine is like sometimes. the sweetest smile you could ever imagine. and a heart bigger than a size of a lake.

and my gosh, you love him.

he made a reservation at this restaurant. one that you've passed by many times but never seem to stop by. you've always thought it was too fancy for a normal hangout with friends or family, it was always crowded with couples too. it always had a jazz band playing, roses on each table, and you could smell the scent of love from outside.

it was everything you've ever dreamed of. you didn't want it to end but unfortunately, the day got darker and the sun began to set.

"i really enjoyed today, peter." you smile.

"yeah of course. i really enjoyed today too." he replied, there was still a splotch of spaghetti sauce near his mouth.

"unfortunate that the hours went by so quickly, i think i have to go home soon." you pout, peter was still smiling, that spaghetti splotch is not going anywhere.

"or maybe we could still talk, for a bit." he paused for a second before making a hand gesture resembling a phone.

"ring, ring, ring!" he mimicked. you furrow your brows.

"pick it up." he stays smiley.

"okay, beep." you laugh, following his gestures.

peter mouths a 'thank you' before continuing, "oh yeah uh, harry? harry are you there?" he asks.

you knew harry, he's peter's closest friend. they're like two peas in a pod and you could never separate them, not even when harry moved away for years.

you join in his little joke. "uh yeah dude, this is harry. dude." you try to mimic his voice.

"yeah, hey harry! do you remember that girl i was gonna ask out for valentines? the really pretty girl from bio class?" his face became pink.

"oh yeah! the really pretty girl. i know her."

"yeah so, she's with me right now and i am just so happy."

"really? how happy?"

"extremely. she's so fun to talk to. she's so incredibly wonderful and i cannot put it into words how beautiful she is. really harry, you were right. she's an angel."

you smile. "really what else? how did the date go?" your voice rasps, clearly you couldn't really perfect the accent harry has. but peter seemed to like it.

"amazing. the food was great, this restaurant is good, i uh- got the reservation in time so everything has been going perfectly.

she's such a ray of sunshine. i can't stop stealing a glance every time, harry. i dunno what's about it, she's just so- perfect."

peter continues. he's doing it on purpose. well, not really, he was going to call harry and say all of those things. but he thinks it's better to tell you face to face. besides, he loves seeing you smile.

you try your best to blurt out a reply without stuttering. "that's um, that's amazing, dude. i bet she feels the same way about you." you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"you really think so?" peter tilts his head.

"i'm sure."

"well, thanks harry. i'll see you later, bye bye." he hangs up, mimicking a beep on the table.

you laugh.

"okay now it's your turn."

"my turn? oh, okay." you gesture your hand.

"dring, dring, dring!" you say, "ugh she's probably studying right now." you explain.

peter picks up, in a voice that will haunt you for years. "hey, girl! what is up!" peter laughs.

it took every cell in your body to not burst out laughing in front of everyone in that restaurant. "hi, gwen. is uh- is your voice okay?" you ask.

"better than ever!" — "oh, okay." you hold your laughter. "um, you know peter? peter parker from biology. the one with fluffy hair and pretty eyes?"

peter smiles, he blushes from his nose.

"yeah so, i'm on a date with him right now. and it feels like a dream. he's prettier up close. he styled his hair, yeah, it's pretty. and he's got spaghetti sauce smeared near his lips." you smile.

peter immediately fixes the splotch, finally.

"he's kind of tall. and he's kinda nerdy too. just my type." you cover your smile, "i like to feel his eyes on me when i look away." you continued.

peter smiles, "what a nice guy."

"he really is. as the date goes on i start to like him even more. i feel like i can really open up to him."

"really?"

"mhm. he got me flowers and some chocolate too. he's funny too, he's got a voice i can listen to for hours. he's like a shot of espresso, you know?"

peter couldn't hide his blush anymore. "a shot of espresso?"

"he makes me feel energized in a way, and he also makes my heart beat really fast." you laugh, "i think i can really fall in love with him."

[shu-of-the-wind]

happy holidays, my lovely secret santa @flyfreeskylark! ‘tis i, your holiday flower fairy @shu-of-the-wind, with the trouble with holiday mead (soon to be now coposted to ao3). your prompts included everybody lives/nobody dies, mission fic, undercover fic, first kiss, first time, kissing for the mission, and smut is great but not necessary. unfortunately the smut fairy did not visit me this year but i hope the rest is up to snuff!

slight cw for honeytraps (not fulfilled/no sex) and pushy men in bars.

---

She hates Nevarro.

Some childish, long-lost part of her might say it’s because her first memories are from a snowy prison world, and being stuck on a planet loaded with lava flows is roasting her alive. Some other parts of her, bits that sound like Saw, like Magva, say it’s because it’s a logistical nightmare. Nevarro is all open space when it’s not flowing lava, an incomprehensible smear of ash and ancient, cracking magma rivers. There’s nowhere to hide on Nevarro, no cover to take, no place to go that isn’t baked grey with soot that lingers in every footstep.

Jyn wipes out another glass, and sets it on the counter. They picked this place for its heavy bounty hunter population—any Imp-controlled planet is bound to be lousy with them, but Nevarro City’s famed for it, all over the Outer Rim—but she hadn’t expected it to be this intense. If she lets herself get nostalgic, tips her head and squints, it almost reminds her of days with the Partisans. Insurgents and criminal syndicates aren’t all that different in their mechanics, if you don’t look too hard.

“You don’t get paid to stare,” says Drek, and whacks her on the back of the shoulder with the end of his filthy towel. Jyn almost seizes the towel and snaps it back in his face, but she’s not Jyn, not right now. She’s Giba, and she needs to keep her shit together. “Deal with the ‘troopers before any of this lot.”

“Yessir.” She’s scraped the Coruscant out of her voice with a razor, and approximated something like Cassian’s accent in its place, though she’s not entirely sure she’s getting the vowels right. In the corner, a Houk smashes his glass into the floor and howls with laughter, and the ‘troopers in front of her don’t even flinch. Something rich and smug swells in her chest. Knew it. They’re so used to this place they don’t even think to check scan-docs anymore. “Right away.”

Drek scoffs, and hauls his eight-armed self away back to the other end of the bar. Jyn lifts her chin to a handful of new bounty hunters that have just come in—“Be right with you, lovelies”—and slips down between the other bartenders, all of them considerably less human-looking, to the ‘troopers. 

“Sirs,” she says, and curls her forefinger and thumb into her apron pocket. “What can I get for you?”

One of the ‘troopers—sergeant by his colors, helmet off completely against regs in a non-controlled zone, birth-born human and not a clone by the color of his eyes—gives her a toe-to-top look that lingers around her hips and shoulders. “Nevarro sunrise,” he says, after a minute, and Jyn slips on an old mask, a smile from six years and seventeen planets ago, tapping the order into the touchscreen on her side of the bar counter. “Alky, what do you want?”

“You got any ale?” says the second ‘trooper,  definitely not XO material, birth-born with hair way too long to meet Core regs. Jyn puts a hand on her hip, cocks her head, lets the smile settle in on her face.

“Nothing I would serve you. Though—” She considers, tapping her finger to her hip, and a few stools away, Cassian, who’s been nursing a drink of his own for the last five hours playing the jealous ex, pushes his glass back. “I think I could probably wrangle you a Riosan mead out of the back if you really want something different.”

The second ‘trooper, the one with long hair, leans a little across the counter. “Could you now?”

There’s a scoff from the side. Jyn ignores it, props her elbows on the counter to lean in a little herself. She isn’t Jyn, not right now. She’s Giba, and Giba is a flirt. “Depends on if you’re gonna be nice.”

He has teeth that have been surgically sharpened, like a predator’s. Sharptooth says, “I can be nice if you’d like.”

She bops a finger to the point of his chin, and says, “I’ll go get you those drinks, then.”

“Giba—”

“I’m busy,” she says to Cassian, and aims directly for the back room behind the bar, dragging bottles out of the wall, popping the little bottle of sedative out of her pocket to conceal in her hand. Her fingers are trembling. She draws in air, sends it out in a slow wave, and after a beat, the shaking isn’t visible, for all she can feel the reverberating adrenalin rattling around inside her ribs.

She hates honeytraps. She hates them with every fiber of her being, but the thing with stormtroopers is that there just aren’t many ‘troopers out there that will openly let themselves be seduced by non-female bartenders, and that means she has to put on masks that she hates and play roles that have her nails gouging into the meat of her palms. She has to flirt and play pretend and not do what she wants to do, which is find a baton and cave in their skulls with the end of it, to hell with the bar and the mission and the information they need. She has to do all of that, and she has to do it with Cassian watching, impassive, and she doesn’t know if the thing shredding itself in her chest is her heart or her guts or her nerve or all three.

Over the comm that’s tucked into her ear, Cassian makes a huffy little noise, and says, “Typical,” just loud enough for the ‘troopers to overhear. There’s a hum of sound, and then: “Giba’s predictable, is all.”

Focus. Come on. “Predictable, huh.” She tucks the bottle of mead under her arm. “Dial it up a little? One of them has to take the bait or the last week getting all this ash in our clothes will have been completely pointless.”

There’s a beat of silence, the echo of audio that she can hear fuzzily through the walls of the back room, before he clears his throat in an assent. “Nothing, just that she runs after anything in a uniform.”

A crackle of static, and then she catches a little bit from one of the ‘troopers, the sergeant this time. “—that make you?”

She can picture it perfectly, Cassian spreading his hands in a what can you do gesture understood all over the galaxy. “Sanitation worker.”

The guffaw of the ‘troopers makes her teeth itch. “Sanitation? You’ve got to be joking, this hellhole has a sanitation crew? I thought everyone threw their shit into the lava.”

“Most people can’t get close enough to the flows to try,” says Cassian, and she thinks he might be injecting a little of Luke Skywalker’s enthusiasm into it, because she’s never heard Cassian this excited to talk about magma. “Most civilians don’t have the proper shielding equipment to be able to—”

“No wonder she dumped you,” says Sharptooth.

“Careful she doesn’t bite anything off when she takes you home,” says Cassian. “Though looks like you like that sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

That’s her cue. Jyn slips out of the back room again, the Riosan mead in one hand, three glasses in the other, pausing just long enough for the ‘troopers to see her face flicker with annoyance. “Riff, I told you—”

It’s in moments like these where she knows how good of a weapon she snatched out of Draven’s arsenal a year ago, when he went AWOL with her aiming for Scarif. Cassian puts a hand to his chest, all wounded lover, eyes wide and wet, lips parted. Even with the limp and the slight hitch to his shoulders from his sore back, he’s every part of him Riff the jilted sanitation worker. She knows it’s an act, but still; the shredded, blistering pile in her insides gives a horrible little wrench of pain. “Giba, can we just—” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, sanitation,” says Sharptooth. The sergeant has completely tuned out, nursing the Nevarro sunrise someone must have brought him while she was hiding in the back. “You need me to get him out of here, sweetheart?”

“Oh, would you?” Jyn turns to Sharptooth. “Just—don’t break him, there’s—”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Cassian skitters out of reach of Sharptooth, knocking over his drink in the process. Sharptooth bolts out of his stool so he doesn’t get caught with the splatter, knocks into the sergeant, a blaster goes off—she thinks that might have been the Houk in the back—and Jyn seizes the sergeant’s Nevarro sunrise off the counter in just such a way that when she tips her hand, the sedative dribbles into his drink without anyone the wiser.

“I’m so sorry,” Jyn says, and seizes the nearest towel. “Get out of here, Riff—”

“I’m going, I’m going—” Cassian backs up. “Um—my tab—”

“Get out of here!”

“Gone,” says Cassian, and vanishes into the crowd of bounty hunters while Jyn sets the Nevarro sunrise back onto the counter in front of the sergeant.

While she wipes up the counter, the sergeant drains half of it in one drag.  

“I’m so sorry,” she says again, and lets some of the frustration show. “He just—he’s a nuisance, I wish I’d never gone out with him—”

“You deserve so much more than a sanitation worker, lovely,” says Sharptooth, and reaches out to stroke the backs of his gauntleted fingers down her cheek and throat. Jyn stays very still, and lets him, for all that it makes her heart kick up to dangerous speeds. ‘trooper fingers near her throat have never meant anything other than danger danger danger. She’s hardwired. She can’t not have her heart race. “You need somebody to show you a good time.”

“Oh?” She tosses the rag aside, and leans an elbow onto the counter. “Is that what you’re showing me?”

There’s an odd little sound over the comms. She thinks Cassian might have bit his tongue.

“Depends.” Sharptooth smiles again, his fangs too-white in the dim light of the bar. “What’s a good time look like for you?”

The sergeant makes a disgusted noise, and goes back to nursing his drink.

It takes a good ninety minutes for the sergeant to go unconscious. It’s not meant to be a fast-acting sedative; fast-acting ones draw attention that they don’t want, not on an imperial stronghold like this one. On top of that, every single person in here is a bounty hunter or worse; she doesn’t need anyone recognizing the symptoms of a knock-out vial. So she waits, circling back to top up the mead and Nevarro sunrises, until the sergeant’s head begins to dip lower and lower, his eyelids drooping. After an hour, he’s practically laying his entire body against the bartop; another thirty minutes after that, and he’s snoring, and Sharptooth huffs. “Shit, I didn’t realize those things were that strong.”

“Every drink is strong for the ‘troopers that keep us safe,” she says, smiling at him. “And sometimes humanoids have a stronger reaction to the alcohols we have in our Nevarro sunrises.”

“No shit,” says Sharptooth.

“If you like,” says Jyn, “I could just put him in the back to sleep it off. We got a room for guests we like, so they’re not out on the streets past curfew.”

He sucks his teeth, and considers. “Where’s that leave you?”

“Off shift,” she says, smiling and pretending she hasn’t gnawed her cheek bloody. “So…we could keep spending time together, if you wanted.”

Sharptooth’s pupils flare, and Jyn almost breaks his nose. She curls a hand tight around the glass she’s cleaning out, and hopes she doesn’t crack it. “Where’s this back room?”

“Just through there.” She points towards a filmy, beaded curtain that’s the only thing that separates Drek’s bar from the brothel just upstairs. “If you go and let them know that Drek says the sergeant needs a place to sleep things off, they’ll come collect him. And I can meet you outside?”

Sharptooth leans across the counter, just close enough that his breath puffs across her face. She’s proud to say her smile doesn’t wobble, but her face hurts from keeping it in place. “Sounds like a plan, gorgeous.”

Jyn keeps the smile in place until Sharptooth’s gone through the filmy curtain. Once it’s rattled back into place, she spits on the floor, and takes off her apron. “Hey, Drek?”

Drek, down the bar, doesn’t look at her. “What?”

“I quit,” she says, and slips out from behind the bar to grab her coat.

She waits in the alley they decided on a week ago, when she and Cassian first touched down on Nevarro with the goal of finding a way into the ‘trooper garrison being set up in Nevarro City. It’s mangy, a dumpster overflowing with garbage and smeared paint on the walls, but Jyn drapes her jacket—not for warmth, but to protect her arms from any potential burns from passing magma flows—over her shoulders and leans against the wall of the bar, just inside the lip of the alley.

“Breathe,” says Cassian, soft into her ear. If everything’s gone according to plan, he’s been stuck crouched down behind the dumpster for the last hour and a half, listening to her outrageous flirting and waiting for her to come out with one or both of the targets. Their best option is an XO, and they have that in the sergeant, but now it’s a matter of dealing with Sharptooth in a way that doesn’t set alarm bells ringing for the garrison. In the brothel, Chirrut—who somehow in the last week has made fantastic friends with everyone working upstairs—will be cloning every scan-doc and identifying code that the sergeant has, and putting them back exactly where he found them. In a few hours, the sergeant will wake up in bed with a sex worker they’ve hired just for this purpose, and never tell anyone about the time he got drunk at Drek’s and propositioned an alien. You don’t bed aliens and keep your job as a stormtrooper, even on the Outer Rim. “Almost through.”

Jyn clears her throat—they’ve long-since decided that means yes, when one of them can’t speak; a sneeze means no—and curls her hands in and out of fists. Her fingernails, stubby as they are, have left bruises on the flesh of her palms. “Shit.”

“Breathe,” says Cassian again, and it reverberates into her body the way drumbeats do, echoing and vibrating against her ribs. Breathe. They’ve done this, or something like this, a thousand times, and will do it a thousand times more. On and on until we win or the chances are spent. She takes a deep breath, and then another, and so when Sharptooth comes out of the bar, she’s smiling again with teeth she’s sucked clean of blood.

“Hey, stranger.”

It’s easy, in the end. She takes three steps back; Sharptooth follows her into the alley, just past the dumpster; and in an instant Cassian’s lunged. The stun gun has long prongs, modified for dents and gaps in ‘trooper armor, and Cassian’s got a sniper’s aim; Sharptooth doesn’t even seem to realize what hit him before he’s on the floor, eyes rolling back into his head. This time, the sedative they put down his throat is fast-acting. He’ll be snoring in the alley for the rest of the night.

They dump him behind the dumpster, trash with trash. Jyn allows herself exactly one retaliatory kick in Sharptooth’s ribs. “Bastard.”

Cassian’s smile is the hooked edge of a crescent moon. “Quick, before someone sees—”

They snag the scan-docs—along with his credit chit, the plate armor, his blaster—a mugging; make them think it’s a mugging and no one will wonder about everything that’s missing—and Jyn’s just stowed what looks like a fairly pricy bit of flashy jewelry that’s also not standard Core World regs when there’s a scuffing at the head of the alley. It doesn’t matter who it is. They can’t be seen standing over an unconscious ‘trooper, even one like Sharptooth.

It's not a thought, or a question. It’s training and instinct, more than anything else. Jyn seizes Cassian by the wrist, and tugs him close to her, stepping back in the same moment so she’s pressed against the dumpster, so there’s a clang of body on body on metal, and whoever is at the head of the alley will see limbs and clothes and two figures hauled in close together in the dark. It’s only after she’s done it that she realizes her mistake; that in pulling him forward and in so fast she might have jostled his back; that now it’s Cassian drawn close into her, breath puffing against her face, the warmth of him too much on this stupid magma ball of a planet, smelling of skin and sharp smoke and capsaicin.

“Stay still,” he says, almost inaudible.

Jyn can’t speak. She looks up at him, at the line of his jaw, and swallows. Cassian must notice, because his eyes shift from the head of the alley down to her face. There’s no lighting in the alley, but one of the signs for the bar casts a dim red glow that reflects in his eyes. She can’t make out his expression. His face is spy-quiet.

“Hello?”

It’s Drek. Cassian doesn’t look away from her. He shifts, ever so slightly, and there’s a question on his mouth.

Jyn goes up on her toes, and kisses him.

It’s not an actual kiss. She tells herself this even as it happens, even as warmth blooms in her throat, down her limbs, too much in the wake of the magma flow beside Nevarro City, a thrum of something she can’t identify. It’s a mask. Another mask, like they’ve both been wearing all night. Cassian draws in air through his nose, and then tangles a hand in the hair at the back of her head, pulling her closer into him, and the second kiss isn’t a kiss either. There’s a star going supernova in her chest. Jyn pushes herself higher on her toes, hooks an arm around his neck, kisses him open-mouthed and messy, because it’s an alley, but it’s also not a kiss, but it’s Cassian, and there’s something tight in her throat that might be close to tears when he cups his other hand so gentle against the nape of her neck, petting against the thrum of her pulse with his blistered thumb.

“Horny idiots,” Drek mutters, and there’s a bang as he tosses something into the dumpster. Cassian doesn’t jerk away. If anything, he pulls her closer into him, a third kiss, and then a fourth, and Jyn can’t hear Drek walking away. Her heart is racing in her ears.

It’s only after a door has closed that Cassian pulls back, only enough to wet his lips, searching her face.

“He’s gone.”

Jyn grips the fabric of his shirt for a long moment. Then, carefully, she unclenches, one finger after the other, letting him go.

“Good,” she says, and looks away. “Let’s get the hell off this mudball.”

She seizes the bag, and bolts down the alley, her mouth tattooed with something she can’t take back.

[youmarin]

♡♡♡ childhood friends | seijoh 4 ♡♡ [8]

a/n: I'm sorry! I disappeared last weekend without notice. Between painting the house and reading "Sunrise of the Reaping" I totally lost track of other things. And then I had a bunch of other things to do last minute too (prime example of my awful time management) so I couldn't even post it later. It took me a while to figure the final version of this one therefore I wrote and changed the last few bits right now. I wanted to thank everyone that showed love to part 7 and hope you enjoy this one too!

wc: 634

chapter 8: play fight

prev. , mini series ml , next

One thing the boys were serious about was play fighting, of course, making sure not to use their entire strength so as to not hurt you (yes there was one time Iwaizumi threw you onto the bed with a little too much force and you bounced off to the floor but you came out unscathed).

Right now, you were at it with Mattsun at his place. You were supposed to be on your way to school, but here you were missing more punches than the ones actually landing on his broad chest. He grabbed your wrists immobilizing you for a second, and next thing you knew you’d been thrown over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You screamed while he laughed at you, but with all your squirming, you slipped from his grasp and fell onto the floor behind the sofa with a loud thud.

“Shoot! Are you okay?” He crouched over you. For a moment you felt bad about carrying on with your next actions seeing how worried he looked.

You grimaced, bringing a hand to your head. 

Playing the part.

Before he knew it, you were tackling him. If you hadn’t caught him off guard, it would’ve been impossible for you to carry it over, but he lost his balance and you landed on top of him. As he tried to keep you from falling over him completely or from butting heads, his hands shot upward. Your laughter died off.

Mattsun opened one eye after hearing you gasp, meeting your stunned gaze. His eyes traveled down and finally he realized his hands were cupping your…

You hurried to get off from on top of him and cleared your throat, face burning, but tried to laugh it off to avoid making it awkward between the two of you. Why were things to get awkward anyway? It’s not the first time something like this happens, you told yourself, remembering not too long ago when Oikawa had accidentally hit one of your boobs (your girls were becoming inconvenient for this type of game). But it’s not like they hadn’t suffered too. One time you’d accidentally kicked Iwaizumi right in his crotch. He really did his best in not screaming at you or getting mad (he was good to his word of never shouting at you again til this day). Or that time you were losing to Makki and recurred to biting him to distract him (he’d been so stunned at the action that you ended up crushed under his weight for a moment so truthfully it affected both). 

Then you went from worrying about awkwardness to something deeper and more relevant than just being embarrassed for a moment: 

 with time, and age, and change, would things drive you apart from your friends? Would there be differences that put bridges between you?-

You shook your head. 

You really were overthinking it. Naturally things wouldn’t stay the same but that was no cause to endanger your friendship. There’s no way life could tear you apart, or that something as Mattsun accidentally putting his hands on your chest could be so catalytic. 

You really laughed now, it making Mattsun sheepishly smile at you while his hand rubbed the back of his neck, also reassuring him that you were okay. 

Makki saw you two arrive at school (Mattsun giving you a piggyback ride, per your request). Your gaze lingered on Mattsun and you sent him a smile again after kissing both your friends' cheeks goodbye before parting ways to head to your classroom. 

When he was alone with Makki, the strawberry blonde spoke up, “Did something happen?” 

“Like what?” Mattsun answered, not suspicious at all, a red hue on his cheeks and the tip of his ears if you squinted.

“Dunno. She seems weirdly happy this early.” He shrugged.

notes:

 Makki eventually learned about what happened with you and Mattsun that morning. There’s practically no secrets between the two.

You and the boys are on your third year of midddle school so it's almost time for Aoba Johsai!

See you next time! ,

Youmarin

tags: @sickpatientt

[hell-much]

Sneak Peek - For Once In My Life

Below the cut a little something from Margaery's POV. (Sneak Peek for Sansa's POV can be found here.)

A hearty kick brings about the desired roaring. Margaery glares down at the radiator as the metallic clang echoes, daring it to not give out on her again.

The small plug-in radiator sitting by her bedroom window is her most cherished and her most despised piece of furniture in this place. It’s a complete piece of rubbish. No matter at what temperature she sets it, no matter if kicks it, pleads with it, no matter if turns it on just before going to bed, it always turns off during the night, leaving her to wake up in a walk-in fridge of a bedroom.

She’ll have to invest in a newer one if she wants any chance to survive the winter. The other day, a shiny red one in the window at the hardware store tempted her, the advertisement promising rapid heating, but she couldn't bring herself to buy it—for the mere notion of having to surrender to spending the winter here.

She knows that’s stupid. Whether or not she’s freezing here, won’t be what helps Sansa to reach a decision. Never mind that in the temperatures Margaery’s used to, this right here is winter, or at the very least the coldest August she has ever experienced.

With a warming sip of her coffee, Margaery looks out the window. One of these days she'll need to catch the sunrise somewhere out of town. It’s already completely different than only a few weeks ago. The cool, damp air is almost palpable in the first rays that break through the clouds. It’s a gorgeous sight, but it also robs her off any motivation to leave the house, like, ever.

The thick woollen blanket wrapped around her she heads to the kitchen and pours herself another coffee. Hearing the weather report on the radio, lets her think there’s no getting around that trip to the hardware store.

She exhales heavily. There’s no use to fret about it. She’s always thrived on new experiences and new challenges, and this right here, surviving a northern winter might be her greatest yet. If she makes it through fall that is.

A light fizzling feeling spreads in her chest when the key turns in the lock. Spinning around, she smiles, spotting Sansa pushing through the door, a potted plant in one arm and a rolled-up rug in the other.

Setting her cup down, Margaery takes the spider plant off her hands. “I would have preferred flowers, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Sansa takes off her shoes and into the set of slippers matching Margaery’s. “You’ll get flowers when I’m convinced you can keep them alive.”

“I resent that. I’m good with flowers.”

“In the South maybe,” Sansa says brushing a fleeting kiss to her lips. “Keeping them alive on four hours of daylight is a whole other thing.”

Margaery’s fingers trace the delicate veins of the leaves, and she wonders how she’s supposed to stay alive with four hours of daylight. She trails after Sansa and watches her unroll the thick, red rug on the bathroom tiles. Sansa stands there for a moment, hands braced into her hips, before crouching down and unfurling the plush fringe. A content breath comes of her lips as she takes it in a second time.

“What do you think?” Sansa asks over her shoulder.

“Convenient colour for being on the rag.”

Sansa rolls her eyes and takes the plant from her, setting it on wash counter. “I don’t know why I bother.”

Coming to a stand behind her, Margaery loops her into a tight hug. “I’m teasing you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

A tentative smile looks back at her through the mirror. “You really like it?”

Margaery presses a kiss to her neck. “I love it.”

Truthfully, Margaery can’t claim to care much for these home making endeavours.

Renting an apartment was somewhat of a necessity; the only sensible choice to make. Staying in the motel in Mole’s Town, while convenient in proximity and cozy enough, had started to become a peril. Too central in a town too small not to attract attention. Here, in the outskirts of Queenscrown, nobody bats an eye when Sansa pops in and out of the big, anonymous apartment block.

The decoration efforts are less of a necessity. In Margaery’s perception anyway. For her standards the plain furnishing the apartment came with was perfectly acceptable.

Sansa wholeheartedly disagreed.

From the first time she brought her here she’s made it her mission to make it as comfortable as possible. The sheer volume of things Sansa has dragged here in the last couple of weeks makes Margaery wonder how her husband has not yet noticed the countless items missing from their home. Bedding, curtains, cutlery and dishes, plants, lamps, glasses, vases… It’s reached the point, where Margaery honestly isn’t sure how she will go about moving out of here without a moving service.

She’s understands that it’s Sansa’s love language; her way to make sure she is as comfortable as possible staying here. It might not always be what Margaery considers necessary, but she will admit that being surrounded by things Sansa lovingly put in place–pulling open the curtains she sewed for her, first thing in the morning, cuddling into the warm flannel bedlinen and a mountain of throw pillows at night, finding a fridge stacked to the brim with Tupperware containers—is a nice notion, makes her feel constantly surrounded by Sansa.

She looks forward to the moment she steps from the shower onto that fluffy rug for the first time.

“How are you, darling?” Margaery asks.

“I’m fine.”

Her voice sounds just a tad too bright and something about the way Sansa fiddling with the leaves, chafes within Margaery. “No, you're not.”

Sansa’s hands still, her eyes wide with soft astonishment. “What makes you say that?”

“Well for one, you haven’t kissed me yet.”

“I did.”

“Not properly.”

The gentle smile spreading on Sansa’s face, brings a warmth that spreads through Margaery like sunshine, one only Sansa’s presence brings these days. Twisting around, Sansa tilts Margaery’s chin up, her breathy, “How incredibly rude of me,” disappearing in a through and through proper kiss.

In the last six weeks Sansa’s kisses have not lost an ounce of eagerness; neither have hands, always pleasantly warm, brushing over her cheeks, sinking into her hair. The heavy wool blanket, that Margaery carries around all day, wrapped around her as a make-shift poncho never stays put for long when Sansa is close by.

With a first longing sated, Margaery brushes a hand over the heavy braid sitting on Sansa’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Want me to take your mind of it?”

Sansa smiles softly as fingers work the belt of her dress. “I don’t have a lot of time.”

“And when has that ever stopped us?”

She has yet to see the day when Sansa has time to spare. Time is all too sparse. Things are ramping up for the harvest on the farm and Sansa’s workload is mindboggling. Sometimes she’ll just drop down for a nap as soon as she arrives. Margaery will lie next to her then, watch her try to keep her eyes open, and caress her into the sleep she needs.

The reality of her staying here differed from her expectations in many ways; mid-morning naps weren't something on her agenda. She’s filled a couple rolls of films with photographs of a sleeping Sansa. It’s all so sickeningly domestic.

They’ve both become masters at making most of every second together, to squeeze whole days of lovemaking, of talking, getting lost in each other’s eyes and soaking up each other’s presence into less than an hour.

Taking a hold of her hands, she pulls Sansa a few step backwards, before she halts once more, searching her eyes. “Unless you’d rather talk.”

“I have two hectares of potatoes awaiting my attention,” Sansa says, pushing her to keep walking. “Just talking won't help me retain my will to live through that.”

So that’s what the mood is all about.

Margaery threads her fingers thread through Sansa’s and nods to the bedroom. “Come on then.”

There’s something that’s almost clinical to the way they both slip out of their clothes. Like stripping for a doctor’s examination, each item of clothing carefully folded and stacked neatly; a quiet ritual only accompanied by rustling of fabric on skin.

That sentiment never lasts very long though. There’s always that one second that has nothing to do with efficiency: When Sansa stands there naked, and her fingers loosen the hair tie holding her braid together. How she holds her eyes through that simple act, delicately pulls apart strands of her hair, letting tresses cascade around her bare shoulders, is breathtakingly sensual.

She does it for no other reason than knowing Margaery prefers her hair open, only ever wears it open for her. In that moment she truly arrives here, becomes hers for however short of a time they have together.

Finding their way into each other’s arms becomes as inevitable as breathing after that. With the length of Sansa’s warm bare body pressing against her own, with kisses finding hers greedily, every last bit of Margaery’s restlessness settles. The sparse doubts she has about staying here, the wondering if there truly will be a future for them, slips to the very back of her mind.

Sansa could tell her in this very second that it will be nothing but these stolen moments for the rest of their lives and she’d be content with it.

Their kisses following are devoid of the usual playful nibbles and gentle exploration; instead, they come quick and intense. Hands, aching with a longing accumulated throughout a too long day spent apart, roam with determination, each touch a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, this time will be enough to sustain them until tomorrow.

[paraphwrites]

2024 WRITING REVIEW

so apparently @genevievefangirl tagged me in this like a week ago and i wrote it, put it in drafts, then promptly forgot about it. sorry for the delay bestie sob

number of stories posted to ao3: 8

word count posted for last year: 180,918 (starting April)

fandoms i wrote for: dead boy detectives, glee

pairings: payneland, klaine

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: the manuscript of real people which is unsurprising given its five times longer than even my second longest work. it's not a fair fight. the oneshots were never gonna stand a chance

work i’m most proud of (and why): lemonade & sunrises, baby! i don't have a banger reason as to why - something about it just really speaks to my soul on a deep and personal level. i just really like it

work i’m least proud of (and why): probably dandelion days seeing as i have yet to finish it despite saying like 30 times that i would. something about it just doesn't really speak to me? it was my second fic i ever started writing, so i was still figuring out what makes me buzz, and it just turned out not to be that

share or describe a favorite review you received: (image: comment by newleavesinspiring on "lemonade & sunrises": "Not for nothing but I think this piece had fundamentally changed my brain")

I don't know something about that really stuck w me

a time when writing was really, really hard: september-november was a bit hard for me, because i was going through some really difficult personal issues then, so writing also in turn became a bit more difficult. doing anything at all was difficult tho lol so what can you do

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: chris from manuscript. i didn't really mean for him to show up but people in the comments LATCHED onto him to the point that like i feel like i should find a way to bring him back

a favorite excerpt of your writing:

"Charles is infinitely more than lovely" is a line which has always stuck out to me. it's from this excerpt, chapter 13 of manuscript

how did you grow as a writer last year: i've gotten a lot more consistent about writing regularly. i figured out How To Write Fanfiction as well, which was cool

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.) i gotta say, @professional-lurker-42 has been the most incredible cheerleader throughout my manuscript writing journey, and has grown into be just one of the most amazing friends.

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: god when doesn't it lol. but honestly it's not cathartic or really anything at all, it's just genuine. even if the experiences can be different, the emotions are very real.

i will say, though, that specifically as edwin grappled with his sexuality throughout manuscript, reading the comments people wrote was incredibly cathartic. like middle school me was fundamentally healed by hearing strangers on the internet say that this is not the thing that will ruin his life and it will be okay

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: you can always do better. you could always fix something and make it better and revise more and just like you're never going to get it to perfect. so, and i say this with so much love, get over yourself and finish it. you're not GOING to make it perfect so stop trying to make it perfect and instead make it yours and make it real

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year? i'll be finishing manuscript in 2025, probably vibing through a lot of we'll carry on as well. i also have a few other ideas in the works, which, shortly before i finish manuscript will commence, to "take over" in a way. hyped for those as well!

tagging: @dead-but-still-sarcastic if you havent done it yet?? otherwise anyone who sees this please do it!! im kind of late to it lol

[slumberingrose-fandom]

Pixie Clans in Celestial Empire

Sun Clan ☀️

One of the tribes have related to Star Clan, and have accompany their business with Moon Clan after the wars, especially united by the marriage.

Their month of fasting begins with the arrival of Leo and lasts for thirty days.

The family own purest blood of Sun Ancestors, especially those have Golden Blood, shall becoming the heir.

➽──────────────❥

Locations

Midsummer Wood - the place they having a celebration of the sun.

Golden Pavilion - a secret and legendary place only someone who discovered it. Accordingly to the book, its water has a healing magic as well as the flowers owns special magic to grant wishes.

➽──────────────❥

Members

Amaterasu

The leader of Sun Clan. She was considered for her greatest light powers, and entitled to the Goddess of the Sun.

Married to Tsukuyumi years ago, later their relationship were estranged.

In the past, her name was not Amaterasu. Her birth name is Megumi. She originally lived in Star Clan, still, because of the family discriminated her, and brought up burdens to her.

Kintaro

Born in the mountain, lived together with his mother. However, his mother passed away lastly.

He travels away from his home country and met Amaterasu, who soon to be his adoptive mother.

Entitled to the Bear General, because of his forceful strength and battle skills.

Married Kaguya, for to unite the Sun and Moon clan.

≿━━━━ ༺❀༻ ━━━━≾

Sol

Pixie of the Sunlight.

His power can make plants and trees thrive in the sun.

He is respected as the "Savior of Light" by other tribesmen. Also known as "Headband" and "Sun Boy" by his rival Luna.

Love the card game "War of Spirits", as the biggest fan.

Love seasoned rice balls and Japanese food.

Dreamed of becoming the champion of the card game.

He and Luna were card fighters, but she had no interest in challenging him at first. However, after meeting a few times, he develops feeling for her, as does Luna.

Be passionate about adventure and meet more card warriors from around the world.

His charm can make many girls fall in love with him. But he doesn't want a woman who only likes to see a man's face but not his personalities.

If he spends the night with other tribes, he has his own tent to hide his secrets.

He is 2 years younger than Luna.

He really like the color red because he thinks it's one of the coolest colors.

Cheerful by nature, face against any incidents no matter what.

Have two older brothers, Apollo (Midday Sun) and Helios (Sunrise).

➽──────────────❥

Aurora

Pixie of the Dawn / Sunrise.

Mother of Apollo, Helios and Sol.

Married to the Dragon Pixie named Tatsuya. Unfortunately, her husband has passed away from the chronic illness, and she became a widow.

Since then, she returned to her parents' home with her sons, and returned to her job two years later.

Adopted by Amaterasu, alongside the others.

Work hard as always and be ready for the moment when the sun rises.

Cares deeply about her children and supports the path they choose.

Befriend Selena when taking a life skills course. At first, she went to interact with Selena, but she was completely rejected. Despite this, she continued to interact with her and slowly a friendship developed.

Graduated from Day Academy, the her second son currently study there.

Known as the "Sunshine Dancer" for her talented dancing skills and beautiful poses.

[neewtmas]

24 days of Appreciation

DAY 2

Welcome to the second day of appreciation this month, where we shine a spotlight each day on those we appreciate in this fandom!

If you want to submit someone or something (for more info read here), you can do so here or just message me! If you wanna stay anonymous, either tell me or submit on anon.

Appreciation from me:

Today, I wanna appreciate @waitingforthesunrise, who might just be the absolut sweetest person in this entire fandom (case in point: the ask you sent me asking to submit me🥹). Your positivity is unmatched, and your presence is light and warmth, the sunrise personified basically. You were so very nice to me when I joined this fandom and made me feel welcome even though I really struggle to build friendships, online just as much as irl. I always read your poetry, even though poetry is not really my thing, but I admire you so much for being able to write it so beautifully. The poem you wrote for me some months ago? That still hangs on my picture wall. Also, remember the one time you made fanart for my locklyle fic??? Literal best thing ever. And now I always think of you when I see a pretty sunrise/sunset. ILY🧡🧡

Appreciation from others (submissions):

from @novelizt: Hi, I'm Liz! Since this season is all about sharing, I'd like to share my appreciation for a few people that made this fandom feel like family to me. I'm not really sure if there's a limit to how many people I can mention, but the list is long so I'll stick to my ride or dies First of all, @tangledinlove who made me fall in love with Anthony Lockwood. Your kindness basically cemented my place in this crazy family. You're the loveliest, and I always round back to reading your fics when I need a pick-me-up. Your words are forever tattooed into my brain. On top of that, you are one of my favorite persons I've met on this app, and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. Next, @kiyasoup and @avdioblisss who I basically share braincells with. Any notif from y'all means my day will be good. I don't know what else to say other than I love you and I hope all your dream come true 💙 Also, @mitskiswift99 who always makes me blush and sob and shriek. If I had the power to teleport and hug you, I would! My Swiftie soulmate, I love you dearly 💙 Last, but definitely not least, the feeders of my delusions, @lewkwoodnco @bella-rose29 @ukulelevillainwrites and @atlabeth !! I used to read your fics and think "damn, they're so cool" and now we're moots jsnhs Some days, I still feel like I'm dreaming. Your fics are my fuel for life. Please keep doing what you're doing. 70 years from now, I'll still be reblogging your works 💙 Yeesh, I really don't know how to keep things short. I just have a lot of love for this fandom, and I hope everyone enjoys their holidays. Lots of love <3

Show your appreciation and submit someone or something here :)

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Cottonwood Fluff

Summary: Azula and Sokka go for a walk in the Earth Kingdom countryside.

Note: Really short story for Sokkla Saturday (Combined this prompt and the last).

Spring in the Earth Kingdom is a far cry from spring in the Fire Nation. It isn’t so sizzling hot but it is still teeming with nature. She likes the daisies and dandelions the best. How they spot the rolling countryside with vast pops of white and yellow. Little bursts of sunlight. She also enjoys the cottonwoods and the fluff that they put in the air, even though it makes her nose tingle and her eyes water. Sokka says that she might be allergic to pollen. 

Most of the time she doesn’t mind. Watery eyes and tingling is a small price to pay to feel the earth; the grass between her toes, petals between her fingers, and–when she is in the right mood–dirt and mud on the soles of her feet.

It is good for her, she thinks, to smell dew on the grass and honeysuckle in the early morning. She certainly hasn’t felt as stressed and distraught since Sokka started taking her here. To be frank, she isn’t entirely certain of where here is, or if the little town even has a name. 

It is, afterall, just a cluster of houses. Maybe ten or eleven of them and then that path that leads to Gaoling.

Sunrises and mornings are quiet here.

She likes to take her tea with honey and chamomile and listen to the grasshoppers chirp and the bees buzz. She likes to listen to the wind shake the tall grasses, barely, and branches. The Earth Kingdom is full of grains and oats. Sometimes, when she is lucky, Sokka gets some peanut butter and some honey and bakes those grains and oats into a little snack for the both of them to eat on the porch or by that pond with the rickety little bridge. 

She swears that one day it is going to collapse on the both of them and they’ll have to walk all the way home drenched. 

The creek likes to gurgle, it isn’t all that deep but it is long and it meanders alongside the path to Gaoling. The one that she and Sokka walk often. Hand in hand without much urgency to get anywhere in particular. 

Sometimes Azula misses the hustle and haste. But these lazy afternoons have treated her so well. So she will take them until she truly starts to itch for Caldera City’s rush and clamor. That busy life that keeps her mind sharp and her soul entertained. 

Today Sokka carries her on his back while he babbles about nothing in particular. The cottonwoods are shedding so much fluff that it could be a snowy winter. Except the grass is vibrant green and the hummingbirds sing and the woodpeckers tap, tap, tap. 

She is starting to doze off. This isn’t particularly uncommon. If she gets relaxed enough she can nod off in seconds.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Sokka comments. 

“Hmm?” She mumbles. “Yeah.” It is a warm day. Blue skies. Rolling clouds. Rays of sunlight that cut through them and kiss her exposed shoulders. Most days are nice days, she thinks. Which is refreshing considering how many perfectly lovely days had been gray in her mind some not too distant time ago.

“How’s this spot?” 

Azula looks around. He has found them a clearing ringed by dandelions that have yet to lose their wispy white crowns. There are a few fallen logs and several clusters of mushrooms. It smells like moss and pine. 

She hops down from his back. “It’s nice, Sokka.” She wouldn’t mind just sitting here in silence for a little while. Perhaps hours even. That’s what they usually do. She wouldn’t have it any other way. 

They have gotten to a point where they don’t need to talk. They only need to be in each other’s company in the earth’s embrace, counting clouds and robin’s nests until the sun begins to set. 

And all feels right in Azula’s world.

[raccoonfallsharder]

oh my god! so i kept on telling myself that i’ll read window across the galaxy whenever i find time (haven’t really done that yet T_T it feels like i have all the time in the world and yet not enough) and i come to do my daily check of raccoonfallsharder to find out IT’S FINISHING SOON?! you work at the SPEED OF LIGHT (which is a compliment ❤️‍🩹 i am a snail and i wish i wasn’t.) but hopefully i can start binge reading WATG soon, the excerpts i’ve seen look amazing (which isn’t shocking coming from you. everything you write is a masterpiece!)

all of this to be said, i hope you’re doing okay. i know you write the Rocket Reminders for others but i hope you apply them to yourself as well. you deserve amazing things And More!

okay first of all you do a DAILY CHECK of my blog?? ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ i mean that has to be an exaggeration but it’s still the sweetest fucken thing ive ever heard?? this seriously has made my whole shitty week better (hello tuesday morning, ive peaked). this whole ask is just so sweet and caring and kind. i might be tearing up in my office. thank you. i am carrying your words with me everywhere i go today, like armor ♡

secondly window will be here waiting for you whenever you’re ready babydoll. it’s not going anywhere (also you don’t gotta binge it! it’s perfectly fine to take bitesized chomps)

thirdly snails are incredibly important. they’re recyclers and pollinators and they are very cute when drinking water. there is nothing wrong with taking time, and fanfic writing should be enjoyable — not something to punish or pressure yourself about. 6 out of 10 experts agree that in all likelihood, trying to rush something like this is just a result of capitalism convincing you of the lie that “productivity” (whatever that is) is the most important thing. the other 4/10 say that you would have more time to create if it weren’t for capitalism in the first place, so it’s still not your fault. anyway the point is please keep being a lovely perfect snail going at your own lovely perfect pace and don’t be too hard on yourself

finally here’s an extra window excerpt (the very beginning) just for you ♡♡♡ may your day be full of soft and happy moments, you gorgeous winter sunrise, and may you feel loved & cared for every second

☆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Eclector is dark and, despite the raucous laughter and fighting of the crew, every footfall on the gridded catwalks seems to echo. It smells like rust and oil and old metal, and sometimes sweat, and there’s generally very little that is pleasant about it.

But Kraglin Obfonteri had sent word that the Yondu clan had recently overtaken a Xandaran luxury liner. Among its treasures, there had been a pretty vast art collection, and Jolie is a reliable assessor and - for some of the more common mediums, as well as a few blindingly unique ones - a restorer. It’s not the first time she’s contracted her services out to a Ravager crew. Hell, it’s not even the first time she’s worked with the Yondu Clan. She crosses paths with them at least once every fifteen cycles or so.

So here she is, following some hulking brute named Taserface and dodging when pirates on the catwalk above decide to spit over the side.

What a way to spend my morning, she thinks. There better be something worthwhile in this pile of junk.

They finally leave the belly of the ship and Taserface leads her through a network of cargo holds and corridors, trying to make very awkward conversation and occasionally leering at her. Jolie is a consummate professional, though, and she’s dealt with a lot of creeps. She keeps a polite smile on her lips and a dead look in her eyes. She’d been hoping today’s escort would be the aforementioned Kraglin, or maybe fellow-Terran Peter Quill. Pete’s been family since Jolie met him - almost seven years ago - even if they don’t usually see each other more than once every few cycles at most. He’s a handful of years older than her, but his relative optimism still makes her feel like he’s a sweet, annoying little brother. Frankly, it pulls some heartstrings, because Jolie has baggage where younger siblings are concerned.

Kraglin, on the other hand, is a remarkably endearing moron, and Jolie kind of adores him, the same way she adores particularly stupid cats.

Unfortunately, Jolie gathers that Pete has apparently disappeared in his M-Ship without a word - much to the irritation of the rest of the Yondu clan - and Obfonteri is offsite on orders from the captain, engaging in some kind of criminal activity or another. So here she is, stuck with a guy who could’ve picked any name in the galaxy and settled on Taserface.

Each chamber the pirate guides her through is packed with stolen goods, and she keeps her eyes open in case there’s some incredible artistic masterpiece that has somehow escaped the haul he’s currently taking her to examine. No luck so far, and Taserface is pulling ahead of her, trying to impress her by droning on about some recent brawl he’s been in. She zones out of the conversation, only smiling placidly and nodding vacantly when he glances back at her.

They pass another corridor, this one even more abandoned, and enter yet another chamber. More goods are stacked all around, a disorganized horde of stolen treasures: casks of silverwine from Vanaheim, crates of shimmering pearls from Morag, pleasure-bots from Contraxia. At the far end, she sees what looks like the corner of a cage.

Her eyes narrow, and her head tilts.

That’s unusual.

Normally, bounties are housed in the caged cells lining the main corridors just off the belly of the ship - not hidden, and not mixed in with the loot. As they draw closer, Jolie can just make out a shadow shifting inside - something the size of a kid.

Her blood runs cold.

She’d heard Yondu and his crew had already been exiled from the loose coalition of Ravager clans due to trafficking children, but she’d thought they’d stopped doing that years ago, when Pete had come on board. Is that why this cage is hidden way out here?

They draw closer, and she catches a glimpse of fur moving behind the rusted bars. Out here in space, that doesn’t mean anything in particular: it could still be a child. Her stomach becomes a stone in her gut, and she knows she's not leaving this stupid fucking ship without knowing what's going on, and making sure everything is okay. She’s got enough units on her that she can probably afford one or two kids, maybe a few if she needs to - a bribe more than a purchase, she thinks, and a mean fucking talking-to for Yondu Udonta. But if he's making some kind of a habit out of this, she’s going to need a lot more resources than she currently has available to her.

And maybe he’s not. She's trying very hard not to jump to conclusions, because to be honest - despite his reputation - Yondu really doesn’t seem like the type to continue engaging in this shit. And she kind of likes him, like the grumpy old uncle she's never had.

Taserface keeps heading straight across the chamber to the other door, boasting and blathering, but Jolie’s drawn to the cage. Smoothly - never breaking stride - she veers to the left, and her tour guide doesn't even notice.

The metal box is about three feet tall, sitting on top of a knee-high crate scrawled with the words “sovereign porn” in Kree - lovely, Jolie thinks drily - and there’s definitely a lifeform inside. She leans in just a bit, and catches a flash of bright eyes and teeth and - she thinks that’s a ringed tail, and a mask.

That can’t be right.

Her eyes scan him again, and yeah: the caged creature looks almost like a raccoon from back home, but he’s standing upright on his hindlegs and…yep, he is most certainly wearing pants.

The lifeform rears back: teeth bared in a vicious, silent snarl, ears flat against his skull. In this position, she can see some kind of metal has been embedded in his chest. The fur around it - and in a few other places - has long since stopped growing due to scarring, and the flesh around the metal itself looks painfully inflamed. Her heart slams into her sternum and her stomach drops.

“Oh, love,” she breathes out, unthinking. “What did they do to you?”

The raccoon tilts his head to one side, eyes bright with biting intelligence, and she could swear he’s practically sneering. He opens his mouth and for all the world, she almost thinks he’s going to answer her.

Taserface interrupts any miraculous revelations with his too-loud, too-boastful voice, suddenly behind her, leaning too close. “T’was the High Evolutionary Hisself what cut the critter up and stitched it back together. Replaced some of its bones with new ones and made it walk like it’s tryin’ to be a man.”

She straightens and stares up at him, and the asshole chuckles, like it’s funny.

Jolie makes a noise in her throat before she can stop it. “Nope. Don’t like that.”

She turns back, still eyeballing the creature on the other side of the rusty bars. It’s shadowy in there, but she’d guess he’s maybe three-feet tall with change. And if he is a raccoon - and he sure does look like one - he’s probably already plotting his escape.

She gnaws on her lower lip. “And where are you all taking him now?”

Taserface looks at her like she’s an idiot. Maybe she is.

“Back t’ HalfWorld an’ the High Evolutionary, a’course.”

Her head snaps around to face him so quickly that something in her neck audibly cracks, sending a hot flare of pain up the back of her skull. She ignores it. “So they can torture him some more?”

Taserface shrugs and glowers and spits dismissively. “It'll be two hunnert-thousand units.”

Jolie sucks in a breath through her teeth. That’s more than…well, that’s more than a few children.

She looks at the rusted bars, and back to her brute of a tour guide, and sighs heavily. Slowly, she turns back to the cage, swaying toward the bars so she can peer in at eye-level. She’s immediately face-to-face with the creature. His ears are still pressed flat against his head, fur bristling, and he’s gazing back, clearly suspicious and probably - justifiably - feeling more than a little bit mean. She’s suddenly certain that if she got close enough, he’d take out her eyes.

There’s no helping herself, is there? Goddamn, she’s an idiot. One corner of her mouth twists up in exhausted resignation and she sighs.

“Welp,” she says solemnly to the raccoon with a polite nod, “fuck me, my dude.”

Swiftly, she stands back up, turning to Taserface and flattening her palms together in front of her with a soft clap. Her fingers lace together and she presses her knuckles to her lips in half a prayer. She’s not going to think about the consequences too much. Not till later, anyway. She’s going to move through these next moments in a flurry, a manufactured whirlwind: partly so she doesn’t second-guess herself, and partly to keep Taserface from applying too much critical thinking to anything she’s about to say.

She imagines that second part should be easy.

“It looks like it’s Udonta’s lucky day, because I happen to have two-hundred-and-thirty thousand units on hand, and I’ve always wanted a raccoon.”

[theghostpinesmusic]

Trinity Alps Uber Alles (2/5)

I use the notes app on my phone to record random thoughts and ideas that I have while hiking. It feels more permanent than writing things down in a physical notebook and doesn't add extra weight to my pack. Plus, because I always have my phone on airplane mode during hikes, I'm never in danger of getting distracted by, say, Instagram reels by picking it up while I'm in the wilderness.

One time, a year ago, while on a trip in the Sky Lakes wilderness, apropos of nothing, I typed out "The Trinity Alps: forged by a mad god in the heart of Northern California for a single purpose: to destroy the world of men."

I think that's a pretty good summary of what the Alps are like. And a pretty good summary of why I love them.

And there is perhaps no greater example of the design of this mad god than the Sawtooth Ridge.

There is a "trail" that scales the ridge from the south (though calling it a "trail" is really stretching things), and I climbed it once, back in 2022. It ascends 2,700 feet in two miles, which for those of you keeping score at home, comes out to an average 30%-ish grade. For two miles.

Apparently, once upon a time, someone died of exposure while trying to climb the so-called Sawtooth Traverse in mid-summer years ago, and while I can absolutely understand how this could happen (I climbed it on a nearly 100-degree day in early July), I think the trail's reputation as a death trap best to be avoided is...maybe a little overstated?

In short, it's totally doable as long as you stay hydrated and are in good enough shape to do the 2,700 foot climb up. And it's awesome.

All that said, I had already done the climb up once and didn't want to do it again, necessarily, when I could get the same views by climbing down. This had actually been a big part of my reasoning for entering the wilderness from Big Flat and climbing up into Caribou Basin first: the top of the Sawtooth Ridge and related Traverse are a few hundred above Upper Caribou Lake, which meant I had set myself up to start my second day of this trip with a 2,700 foot drop.

But first I had to reach the top of the Traverse, which even from the north side of the ridge is no joke.

I woke up just after sunrise, and despite the cold forced myself to get up and make an early start. To get all of my limbs thawed out and woken up, I started my day with another trip up to the Upper Caribou Lake dam.

After packing everything up (and having a stern conversation with a few salt-crazed deer), I headed south. The trail meanders around the east-ish side of Upper Caribou Lake for awhile here, and at times becomes really difficult to follow. Fortunately, the stakes for getting lost are pretty low: at one point, I did get a bit off-trail, but I topped out on some tipped-over granite slabs twenty feet or so above the center of the basin and from my perch was able to see the trail that I was supposed to be on easily enough. I was able to backtrack with nothing lost but five minutes or so of walking.

This area is beautiful, as the granite tumble in and around a series of high-altitude lakelets is as striking as it is anywhere else in the Alps, as far as I'm concerned. The area was a bit dried out, understandably, in September, but it is nuts in July. I'd recommend it if you can go.

You can actually see a small notch at about ten o'clock in the photo of the basin I took, and that is really close to where you have to climb to reach the top of the Sawtooth Traverse. You "only" have to climb about 700 feet here, and you might think that after doing nearly 4,000 feet the day before this would be an easy task. It was not. The trail up to the notch is steep and is really difficult to follow in places. Getting off-trail means lots of scrambling over loose boulders and slippery mud. I've climbed this section of trail twice now, and have gotten lost in the exact same place in the exact same way both times.

By the time I'd regained the trail, I was sweaty in spite of the early morning chill in the air, and felt like I would hardly be able to gain the notch, let alone carry out the aggressive itinerary I had in mind for the rest of the day. But I kept stumping away, the Caribou Basin kept growing smaller and smaller below me, and, eventually I topped out on Sawtooth Ridge.

The scale of this glacier-carved valley as well as the Sawtooth Ridge that marches off into the distance on its left and the "white," granitic core of the Alps to its right is one of the most breathtaking sights I've ever seen in my life. During my climb of the Ridge in 2022, I'd had versions of this view all the way up, over the course of two-plus hours, and the perspective from the very top still took my breath away. It's awesome in the literal sense of the word. Photos can't really do it justice, but I took them (and am posting them) anyway.

I'd been worried that a 2,700 foot ascent might be a bother for my forty-three-year-old knees, but I did most of it without a break, albeit slowly. I think my knees were just so happy to not be going up anymore that they weren't going to gainsay me.

To be clear, this trail is narrow, and there are many, many switchbacks. There's some exposure at times in the sense that it looks like you could simply fall off the ridge and float out into space forever. But there are really only two or three very small stretches of trail where you could theoretically fall and suffer worse than a few scratches. Go slow, use trekking poles, and keep your head on straight and you'll be fine. And you'll have experienced one of the most insane examples of trail engineering I've ever come across in my life.

When I got to the bottom of the Traverse, the sign indicating its beginning was shattered in a way that suggested a bear (I guess a bear that hates signs?) to me. Exhausted and thankful for an excuse, I dropped my pack, took a long break, drank a liter of water, and, somewhere in there, fixed the sign using a length of paracord from my pack that I cut and cauterized.

Next, it was time for the first of a few lollipop handles in my mostly-a-loop route. I intended to end my day at Morris Meadows, east and then south of the bottom of the Traverse (and, hilariously, absolutely clearly visible from the top of the Traverse, many miles to the south). However, I felt like I had to stop by Sapphire and Emerald Lakes first.

You get a few glimpses of these two lakes during the Traverse, if you keep your eyes peeled. But if you head west from the bottom of the Traverse, a mile-plus or so later, you emerge on the shores of Emerald Lake, just below a cracked human-made dam that used to hold the lake's water back. From there, it's a spidery, slow scramble uphill to Sapphire Lake, but when I'd hiked there for the first time in 2022, the Sapphire Lake basin had been another one of the most beautiful sights I'd seen in my life. I couldn't imagine being this close and not visiting again, even if the diversion would add distance, time, and require me to return from Sapphire Lake to the base of the Traverse along exactly the same route.

The hike up to Emerald Lake isn't that bad, but it is a bit of a climb, and there are parts of it that are steep and exposed, and if you've just spent a few hours descending the Traverse, it can feel like a bit much. Fortunately, the ever-expanding views of the granite cliffs ahead and all around you are encouragement enough to keep you going. Eventually, after passing through a stand of trees and old snags with some pleasant-looking, shady campsites interspersed amongst them, you emerge almost too suddenly onto the shore of Emerald Lake.

Last time, I'd spent an hour or so mucking about on the lakeshore, but this time I was on a tighter timeline and there was already a tent pitched on the shore that might or might not have had people in it. I left my pack in the aforementioned shady-tree-snag area, took a huge slug of water, and started off up the scramble trail, along the north shore of Emerald Lake, upwards toward Sapphire Lake.

This bit is definitely slow going, as you wind around a bunch through scrub, then through a small pocket forest (visible on the right in my photo of Emerald Lake), then up a tumble of granite slabs. But the trail is never that difficult to follow (except at the very beginning, where it's seemingly impossible to find until you do), and the scramble up the granite slabs is, for me, in that perfect spot of just challenging enough without every feeling dangerous. I definitely hit the ol' flow state on the way up, and before long I was nearing Sapphire Lake's basin.

The last time I'd climbed up here, earlier in the summer, the approach had been veiled by tens of small snowmelt-fed waterfalls, and the effect had been astonishing. This time, the cliffsides were dry, but I was still blown away by my first sight of the lake, nestled high in a glacial cirque east of Caesar Peak. Caesar Peak can, apparently, be scrambled from here, but I'm definitely inclined to leave that to an imagined, alternate-timeline version of my thirty-year-old self.

I was initially disappointed to find a couple already sitting on the shore of Sapphire, as I'd sort of expected to have it to myself because of the dearth of hikers on the trails I'd taken so far. My annoyance quickly melted away, though, as the couple and their enterprising dog gave me a warm welcome. Us three humans chatted for a few minutes while I played with their dog, and then I scrambled over some slabs to the right to another small beach that protruded out into the lake (the beach I'd stopped at two years ago, as it turned out). We were blocked from each others' sight by a tall rock stack at that point, and were both able to enjoy relative solitude in peace.

This is one of my favorite places. I laid out for a bit on the sun-warmed granite. Remembering the crazy-but-energizing experience of taking a dip in Lake Of The Woods a few weeks before, I considered actually swimming in Sapphire Lake, but then I took off my shoes and dipped my toes in, and then went numb almost immediately. Even with the sun-baked descent back to Emerald ahead of me, I didn't want to be that cold. I settled for dipping my legs in to the knees for as long as I could stand it, which turned out to be a few minutes.

While I waited for the feeling to leach out of my legs, I contemplated the even gnarlier scramble trail from Sapphire Lake to Mirror Lake, higher up the cirque. I've seen pictures from Mirror Lake, and it looks completely insane. The scramble up to it, which I couldn't really identify back in 2022, was really clear and looked pretty safe, though arduous. I briefly thought about chancing it, but guessed (rightly) that I wouldn't then have time to get back down to Morris Meadows before sunset. Maybe someday, when I return to Sapphire Lake for a long-intended overnight on its shore, I'll give it a shot.

When I turned back around and regained the trail to descend back to Emerald, the couple and their dog were already gone.

During the descent, it's impossible to miss some absolutely bonkers views of Emerald Lake with the Sawtooth Ridge retreating into the background behind it.

When I got back down to Emerald, the couple and their dog were already back in their tent. I navigated around them to the north so as to not disturb them again, filled up my water bottles just below the old dam east of the Lake, and started back the way I came.

It was a bit mind-numbing to retread over so much ground, but my boredom was leavened by the fact that I was basically hiking downhill all the way from Sapphire Lake to Morris Meadows, a 2,000 foot descent over the course of five miles.

About four miles in, my environs changed from the granite-and-brush environs that enclose the Stuart Fork at its higher elevations and opened into something more...meadowy (for lack of a better way to put it). This last mile of trail is relatively gentle and rolling, and the beyond the meadows in every direction looming peaks hint at the more challenging terrain that you are, blessedly, not currently hiking through but that you can safely enjoy aesthetically from a distance. I was tired, though, after my long day of ascending and descending and ascending and then descending again, and it was a bit hard to focus on the beauty with rest so close at hand.

Eventually, of course, I reached Morris Meadows, and it was...empty? I'd been surprised the previous night to be the only one in the Caribou Basin, but to have all of Morris Meadows to myself, even mid-week in September, seemed insane. Still, I wasn't going to question it.

I spent some time exploring the area, trying once again to find The Best Camping Spot, but in the end I decided that the spot I'd used during my second night in the Meadows in 2022 is The Best Camping Spot. So, I set up there, spread out my gear much more luxuriously than I would have dared to do had the place been as busy as it usually is, and spent a bit of time reading as the day went from warm and breezy to cold and (relatively) still.

If I took a few steps out of my trees-sheltered campsite, I could see the wall of Sawtooth Ridge in the distance, and, if I squinted, I imagined that I could see the Traverse trail dropping down at a mind-bogglingly sharp angle from the top down into the valley below. I had to take a zoomed-in picture to confirm that, yes, that was a trail, and one that I had climbed earlier that same day.

The visual itself made me tired.

After luxuriating in a few hours of downtime, I cooked dinner and got ready for bed. The next morning, the third of my trip, was supposed to be rainy and cold, at least according to a forecast I'd read before heading west from Coffee Creek. Some clouds blew in over the top of Sawtooth Ridge just before dark, but later in the night when I woke up and stuck my head outside the tent, there was nothing in the sky but stars. I went back to sleep wondering what the morning (and another planned, steep series of ascents) would bring.

[sleepy-vix]

hi! i’m the person who asked for music recs the other day and i’m gonna tell you what i thought abt it them :)

for mitski, i listened to “once more to see you” and “francis forever”. so im already into mitski BUT ive never really heard once more to see you, which is why i was like ooo i rlly gotta listen to this. AND IM HAPPY I DID. i loved the “come inside and be with me, alone with me // alone with me, alone” and “then i wouldn’t have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart // if i could see you, once more to see you” parts because just ASGDJIKG. this song made me sad but in a comforting way if that makes sense 😭. i also listened to francis forever, and as a mitski fan this song is always up there on my ranking. it’s like the song that got me into mitski, how could i not like it ??? it’s also just always too relatable, everytime i hear it.

moving on! NEXT UP IS THE SMITHSSS! i also love the smiths, i listened to “heaven knows im miserable now”, “i know its over”, and “there is a light that never goes out”. heaven knows im miserable now is such a real song, it was like the second (i think??) song that i listened to from the smiths, i feel like when someone looks at me they can tell id like this song 😭. then there’s i know its over. this song feels like slowly drowning, but not in a bad way. like you’re in one of those movies where the main character is sinking under the water and the light blue light from the top slowly fading away, and they just let it happen. it’s a gentle song, yet a sad song imo. and lastly for the smiths, there is a light that never goes out. this song used to be on all of my relationship playlists, it reminds me of happier times. it was the first song from the smiths i ever heard, and i think it’s the same for a lot of ppl. overall i loved the smiths

then laufeyy. i’ve listened to a few of her songs before but i don’t think i’ve heard “above the chinese restaurant” and “promise” before (two of the songs i listened to. i also listened to “falling behind” :) above the chinese restaurant was such a good song i was surprised ive never heard it. even though its something in my usual music genre, i really enjoyed it. it was such a sweet yet soft and sad song (i keep thinking every song is sad for some reason😭) it gives me “sometimes you don’t know you love something until it’s gone/ you don’t know you need something until it’s lost” type vibes. falling behind had such a nice tune, i could see myself listening to this on loop lol. (its a little too relatable tho, not in a bad way ofc) next up was promise, OMG i heard the first part and i was like in love with this song already. it’s omg i omg, i’m just 😭 almost cried listening to this song genuinely. it described almost exactly how i feel rn in such a perfect way i’m in love with this song.

and now into some stuff i haven’t heard before:

asleep among endives (ichiko aoba). so i don’t know what she’s singing about, but i already know without translation that its real. the vibe of this song is so relaxing, it reminds me of waking up at 4-5am when i was little for roadtrips and being so tired but i stay up because i want to see the sunrise. and then when the sunrise comes, that’s this song. this song feels like the first light of the day. it feels refreshing.

yumeutsutsu (lamp). this was another relaxing song, it felt like when it rains and the sun is out so you’re sure you’ll see a rainbow. it feels like looking for loved ones in the stars, it felt bittersweet and melancholic.. even though i don’t know what she’s singing about (i’d look up the translation but like that’s a lot of work 😞)

NOW TV GIRL!! i love tv girl and i had a huge tv girl phase just a little while ago, i still like them but i also listen to other music now lol. when i was in my phase all i listened to was tv girl 😭. but for tv girl i listened to “cynical one”. i really liked this song it felt like a reflection pond.

THATS IT FOR MY REVIEW!! sorry for leaving this whole essay in your inbox i did NOT mean to write this much omg 😭

NO THATS TOTALLY OKAY. I WISH I KNEW WHO U WERE CUS YOUR TASTE IS SO IMMACULATE AGHSBSJS

now that ik more abt ur music taste i can recommend a few more!

for the smiths- frank sinatra. theyre not the same but alot of ppl who enjoy the smiths enjoy frank sinatra too in my experience. i recommend "somethin' stupid" and "the world we knew"

for tv girl - i reccomend femme fatale by velvet underground

also for tv girl - i recommend music by the strokes. my favourites are "call it fate, call it karma", "the adults are talking", and "welcome to japan"

for laufey, i recommend any song by matt maltese. my favs by him are "you deserve an oscar" and "curl up and die"

i also recommend eloise if u rlly like laufey. "trick of the moon" is her most popular song, i believe.

that's all for now !

also, i dont mind the anon thing but could u pick an emoji to sign off with so ik its u? :)

have a nice day !

[alessiathepirate]

Resident Evil 4

CIGARETTES IN THE MORNING: Luis Serra x fem!reader

Summary: Just some soft morning moments with Luis Serra - including some cigarettes -, because we all need some soft Luis Serra moments in our lives.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I made while I wrote this short story.

As I wrote before, my Spanish isn't the best so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes in the Spanish words I used. With that I'd like to say a special thank you to @angi-writes-filth for the kind words and the reassurance that my Spanish isn't as bad as I thought it was :)

Also I'd like to say thank you for all the positive feedback and responses I've got. I really appreciate it :)

Luis Serra makes me go weak these days, so have some soft moments with him as proof to that.

Warnings: smoking

•••

The room was painted in a shade of orange mixed with some gold and red as the sunrise found its way inside the apartment. Waking up to that sight was truly breathtaking and after all the hard, physically demanding work she had to do, it gave her a peace of mind. Eyes only slightly open, looking at her own hands where all the colours the sunrise brought were mixed together, she finally felt at ease.

Her eyes slowly, but surely examined her environment, this time being sure that it's a safe place. It's not some shack in Spain, it's not some big hallway in a castle - it's her home. It's her home where she isn't lonely anymore.

She turned around in the bed, kicking the duvet back to its place when it got tangled with her legs. She was about to reach for a bare chest or the soft, dark brown locks of hair, when she realized that her lover's side of the bed was empty. She let out a long breath in annoyance - no cuddling this time.

Sitting up and pulling the duvet off of her body, she looked around the room, this time being more observant, checking the side what she didn't examine a few seconds ago. There he was, at an open window with his back to her, elbows resting on the windowsill. He was smoking, she was sure of it, because she could see some small clouds of smoke running up in the air, even if his body was hiding the cigarette in his hand.

She laid back down, hugging a pillow to her chest, while she kept her gaze on him. She had to admit that Luis Serra was attractive even in the mornings - more than attractive, beautiful; damn the people who say that word can't be used for men.

She wouldn't use that word for anyone who wasn't special, but Luis truly deserved that compliment. His physique, his dark brown hair - what she liked to play with at night - and those eyes most of the time shining from something flirty yet clever, made him irresistible. And she didn't even think about the way he talks or acts yet.

She got out of bed as quietly as she could and walked towards him slowly, not wanting to disturb him and also wanting to surprise him with a hug. When she was right behind him, she gently put one arm around his torso, while she touched the scar on his back with the other.

Luis seemed surprised, making her chest swell with pride. He didn't neccessary jump, but his shoulders became tense and his hands started to shake slightly, almost dropping the lighter he was even now playing with. She loved the trick he could do with it - it was a Luis-thing, and the fact that he could make that seem attractive was also a Luis-thing.

"You got a smoke?" she asked teasingly, making him giggle. God, she loved to hear him laugh.

"Good morning, cariño." was the first thing he said as he put the lighter down and tenderly took the hand she was keeping on his abdome to press a gentle kiss on it.

"Good morning to you too."

She drew an invisible circle around his scar with her thumb, then drew through the whole, rough line where once the deep wound was. She pressed a kiss to his right shoulder as an I love you. When she felt his grip on her hand tighten, she knew the message got through.

"You didn't stay to cuddle." she said, doing her best to sound angry, but in reality both of them knew she wasn't upset about it.

"I'm sorry, querida. I didn't think you'd wake up so early." he kissed her palm this time as a sorry. "But I'm sure we can still make some time for it."

Next thing she knew she was standing in front of him, with her back to him, while one of his arm was around her torso. He also did his best to keep the cigarette far away from her face and hair, not wanting to burn her.

"Yeah, this is much better."

Luis threw the cigarette into an ashtray, now being able to fully concentrate on his lover. He put his head on her shoulder, while his free hand was playing with her hair.

"Your bedhead is really cute, cariño."

She felt her cheeks become slightly pinker at the compliment. "Thank you."

"You know, for someone who went to Spain to find the missing señorita, you can get pretty shy sometimes, querida."

There was no way she could hide her face from him, so she did her best to ignore the feeling that her cheeks are red. "Yeah, I bet you're really happy that this shy señorita was there to find your flirting attractive."

"Of course I am."

"Of course you are. You should be." she said teasingly.

They were standing there for a while as the first few people started to appear on the streets, most likely going to work to start the day early. For the first time since forever she wasn't jealous of them for having a normal life. No, this time she was happy that she can stay in with someone she loves, with someone who loves her.

After a while they changed the position as Luis started to smoke again.

"Do you want to go back to bed, querida?"

"We can if you want to. But only after a coffee." she answered as she looked him in the eye, liking the way his eyes lit up when he looked at her.

"Of course, I can make you one."

"And you called Leon Prince Charming, when you offer to help a señorita?" she teased, while she took his cigarette to take a puff from it.

"I only offer to help one certain señorita and you know it." her grip on the cigarette almost failed her at the compliment. Luckily Luis took it from her in time.

She didn't answer, not knowing what to say to that. Teasing or joking with Luis was always a loosing game. There was no way she could say anything to him to make him flustered or shy - even if only for a second. Or even if she succeeded in it, he'd always have a clever, either cute or flirty comeback what always made her blush.

His second cigarette landed in the ashtray as well after he kissed her. He tasted like the thing he was smoking, not like it bothered her. It was also a Luis-thing, something what couldn't just disappear without leaving an empty space behind.

"Let's go and make that coffee."

This time she kissed him - as a thank you.

The days with Luis Serra definitely started off happily.