#top resorts

[natalievoncatte]

Lena was waking up, and not in her own bed. She was somewhere warm, swaddled in a heavy blanket. Her head was pounding and she didn’t want to open her eyes. A soft mewling sound tumbled from her lips, and she made as if to blink. Her eyes felt gummy and stuck shut.

“Shhhh,” a small, soft voice murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“Wuh?”

“Just rest,” Kara said.

It was easy to rest. He head fell against the wall of muscle that was Kara’s chest and pillowed on her breast and Lena let out a soft sigh, shifting a bit as she came around and grew more wakeful. She was sitting in Kara’s lap as Kara leaned back against a wall, and Kara had unclasped her cape and wrapped it around her in an impenetrable blanket.

As Lena opened her eyes, she saw that Kara was carding her fingers through Lena’s hair, so gently she barely felt it.

“Your hair is really pretty.”

“Thanks,” said Lena.

A kind of confusion swept through her. Weren’t they fighting? Lena was mad. She was furious. She was world-endingly, life-burn-downingly mad at the woman in whose lap she currently sat. Kara had lied to her about the fundamental nature of who she was and… and…

Lena didn’t feel mad.

“They gave you some pretty heavy drugs when they kidnapped you.”

“Kidnapped me?”

Kara let out a little snort. “You probably don’t remember. These were the lamest kidnappers, Lena. They nabbed you and immediately called me out. I found you and bagged them before you even came around from the drugs.”

“Thanks.”

“You probably won’t remember any of this later,” Kara sighed. “I just want to tell you I’m sorry again. I’m sorry I lied. It was wrong and you deserved better. I should have given you my trust the way you gave it to me.”

Lena blinked a few times but said nothing.

“I’ll never stop saving you. I will always protect you. Even if you never forgive me.”

Lena shifted slightly, pressing a little into Kara, who was now lightly teasing the tips of her fingers across Lena’s scalp, sending light tingles through her sleepy body. Kara yawned and shrugged.

“You okay? You warm enough?”

Lena nodded.

“Alex is coming with a team, she’ll make sure you’re all right. Go back to sleep, baby.”

Baby. That word sent a shockwave through her.

Lena’s eyes drifted shut. She was very tired and it made sense to sleep, to just let it all go. She was safe in Kara’s arms.

As she tumbled towards the dark, she felt the soft press of warm lips to her forehead.

“There’s still so much I want to tell you.”

Lena sighed and nuzzled into Kara’s shoulder. She was soft and warm and smelled heavenly, not just her lavender perfume but the soft smell of her. Lena never told Kara that she wanted to smell her armpits after spin class.

“You want to smell my armpits?!” Kara choked out.

Oh. That was supposed to be inside voice.

“Mmmhmm,” said Lena.

“Can I tell you something, since you probably won’t remember this later?”

“Sure.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Lena started, jolting a little more awake.

“No, shhh,” Kara said, pulling her into a tighter hug. “I know it doesn’t change anything. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just scared. I need you to know of something happens, if…” her breath caught. “If not fast enough.”

“Kara,” said Lena.

“Shh,” Kara murmured, touching a soft kiss to her forehead again that sent a jolt rippling through her.

“I don’t even know if you like girls. It’s just that was the real reason why I was so shitty and hid who I was. I was scared you’d leave if I told you and… and it happened anyway. I’m so sorry.”

Kara sighed.

“Sometimes I wish I could be human so there’d be no secret. I don’t know of Human Kara would have been brave enough to say anything to you but I’m a coward. It would be so easy if there was no lie.”

Lena opened her eyes and looked up. Hot tears glittered on Kara’s cheeks.

“And you know, if you lived with me, and not in that big fancy penthouse, nobody would kidnap you. I’d keep you safe and get you breakfast and make sure you eat before work and take care of you because you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Mmhm, and what do you get out of this arrangement?”

“Well,” said Kara, “I’d get to kiss the prettiest girl in the world.”

“Is that all?”

Kara’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Well. I could do more than kiss. I never have with another woman so I’m not sure how… but I want to…”

She brushed bright scarlet.

“I could teach you,” Lena whispered.

“Don’t do that,” said Kara. “Don’t dangle that in front of me, if there’s no chance.”

“Kara,” Lena murmured, her drugged brain grinding its gears a little, “you don’t fill someone’s office with flowers as a friendly gesture. One does not buy an entire billion dollar media empire to hang out with one person as a platonic exercise.”

“Oh,” said Kara.

“I thought you were straight,” said Lena. “It boggles my mind that you thought I was. Me? Really? Have you seen me?”

“Yes,” Kara was looking at her intently now. “I have seen you since the first day. When I saw you for the first time I felt something I’ve never felt before or since.”

“This fight we’re having,” said Lena. “It doesn’t really feel important right now.”

“I know, but you’re on drugs.”

“Will you kiss me?”

“No.”

Kara’s lips were trembling. She dipped slightly as if she’d changed her mind, then pulled back and pursed her lips, pressing her eyes tightly closed.

“You might not feel this way later. It would be wrong.”

Alex chose that exact moment to kick the door in, sending a shower of splinters across the room. Kara pivoted in anticipation, shielding Lena but twisting around so they were even closer, Kara’s stunning blue eyes filling Lena’s vision.

“If you still feel this way later, call me.”

From then it became a blur. Kara placed Lena gently on a stretcher and reclaimed her cap, then trudged a safe distance away and flew off.

Alex was curt and short with her as usual, fussing over unnecessary risks and complaining sharply that Lena got into too much trouble, before sharply cutting off the conversation when it got too friendly and storming off.

Lena ended up back in her penthouse by six, all in all a fairly convenient kidnapping and rescue. She trundled inside and sat down on the couch, staring straight ahead for a while before she went to pour a glass of scotch, then thought better of it.

The night was chilly. National City never really got cold, but on a January night it could be brisk. Lena leaned on her railing and stared out at the bright lights of the city, the flow of traffic beneath and the distant sounds of life and joy.

Suddenly she felt very cold.

“Kara,” she sighed.

In an instant she was there, appearing in a faint gust. Her cape billowed out majestically behind her, hair aloft on the wind currents like clouds of spun gold. Kara didn’t look like an angel; angels looked like Kara.

“Come inside.”

Lena turned and walked back into the warmer confines, hearing the gentle thud of Kara’s boots on the balcony and her soft footsteps walking over.

“Haven’t been here in a while.”

“I used to dream of you moving in with me,” Lena admitted.

Kara stood silently behind her, shifting on her feet.

“I used to think about pampering you every time you mentioned that your rent was high or joked about a reporter’s salary. I wanted to take care of you, treat you, give you fine things.”

“You don’t have to give me anything.”

Lena turned around and crossed the distance between them. With Lena barefoot and Kara in heels, she towered over her. Lena stepped aggressively into her space and Kara didn’t flinch as Lena curled her fingers in the collar of her suit and pulled her down.

She didn’t hesitate. She gently bracketed Lena’s hips in her hands and pulled her in, bending over her to bring their lips together, Kara’s every move soft and gentle, the utmost care in every tiny gesture.

Kara was a good kisser. Lena let it deepen, feeling the heat flush in her chest and elsewhere, as Kara swept her cape around the both of them in a grand, silly, absurdly romantic gesture that made Lena’s knees go all wobbly and her belly flare with warmth.

“I could give you another chance,” Lena whispered into Kara’s lips.

“I’d like that.”

“Want to fly me home?”

“You are home,” said Kara, sounding a little confused.

Lena looked around the apartment, then rested her head on Kara’s chest. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” said Lena.

“Take me back to your loft. We can kiss and do the other things and then you can go get me breakfast.”

Kara slid her arm under Lena’s legs and back and picked her up, tucking Lena gently against her chest, stepped up onto the balcony railing and then off, into space. Lena’s breath caught and she tensed as she always did. She really didn’t like heights.

“I won’t drop you.”

Flying back through Kara’s window was a little awkward with the two of them, but they managed. Inside, Kara deposited her on the couch and the fussing began.

First, she made Lena put on a hoodie at the first sign of a shiver. It was old and threadbare and smelled like Kara, and when she wasn’t looking Lena buried her face in the sleeve and breathed it in.

Kara placed an order at a local restaurant and rather than wait for delivery, zipped out and got it herself.

“Do the people at the potsticker place not freak out when Supergirl pops in?”

“Actually, they give me a discount.”

She put the food in front of Lena and disappeared briefly, emerging in a tank top and running shorts, and Lena almost dropped the potsticker she was about to bite into.

Kara sat down beside her, and Lena stared at her. She wasn’t wearing her glasses and her hair was in a loose ponytail, leaving her in a kind of halfway state between Kara and Supergirl. Despite the display of her blocky shoulders and the ribbed fabric tight on her bunching abs, she looked so warm and soft.

Kara speared the potsticker and popped it into her own mouth.

“Hey!” Lena chirped.

“You were just staring at it.”

“Kara!”

“Fine, here.”

Kara gently took another dumpling in her chopsticks and offered it. Lena looked at her askance, then leaned forward and took it in her mouth, eyes never leaving Kara.

Slowly, they shifted together until they were side by side on the sofa, Lena sort of falling onto Kara as she sank into the cushions. They were less eating and more feeding each other, which turned into Lena feeding Kara as they watched whatever came on the TV.

Kara slowly worked an arm around Lena’s waist and Lena turned, throwing her legs across Kara’s thighs.

“I’m tired,” said Lena.

“You’ve had a long day.”

“Want to go to bed?” Lena said. She tried to put her best husk into her voice but it cracked a little and betrayed her.

Kara said nothing. She smiled and lifted Lena up with ease and carried her to the bed.

Lena shimmied out of her leggings, letting them fall around her ankles, all while covered by the oversized hoodie, and her heart was pounding as Kara lifted the covers with an exaggerated gesture and beckoned her into the bed. Lena climbed aboard.

Kara crawled in after her and embraced her like she was trying to pull Lena inside her body.

“You must be tired,” Kara murmured. “It’s okay if you just want to sleep.”

“I am,” Lena whispered back.

Kara started to pull back, but Lena held on. “Can you hold me for a while.”

“Nothing is gonna get you.”

Lena closed her eyes and curled up against her, sighing.

Two weeks later, she put the penthouse on the market.

[stormyoceans]

GODDDDDDDDDDD DON'T YOU FUCKING LOVE WHEN MISUNDERSTANDINGS AREN'T DRAGGED FOR EPISODES ON END FOR NO REASONS BUT CHARACTERS ARE ACTUALLY ALLOWED TO COMMUNICATE AND BE VULNERABLE AND UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER AND FACE THEIR EMOTIONS SO VIEWERS CAN GET AN INSIGHT ON THEIR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS IM GENUINELY ON MY KNEES

[seokminfilm]

for one last time | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, fluff, boyfriend!seokmin, tiny mention of jealous!seokmin, mentions of sports (wii sports), reader is lost, kissing, small mention of physical touch, bits of shamless flirting (on seokmin's end), pet names (reader w baby, seokmin w honey, babe), lyr projects her love for wii games on reader, seokmin throws something at reader (a baseball cap as a teasing gesture), they're cute & in love your honor

now playing: for one last time, cheyander

"You swing your arm back and forth like this, babe. That's how you hit the ball." Seokmin's behind you, breath hitting your ear as he puts one hand on your waist and the other on your right arm, performing the swinging motion. Your cheeks are warm from the touch, and Seokmin notices this, a smile on his face as he pulls away.

Your boyfriend was a sports fanatic—he loved lots of sports, and were good at a lot of them too. The first game he had bought for the Wii you two shared was Wii Sports, and he had the joy (at least, that's what he said) of teaching you how to play the game.

You loved Wii games, but disliked sports—you didn't see the hype around them, and you never understood the rules anyways. Seokmin was just so excited to show you how to swing for tennis and serve for volleyball using the Wii remotes, though.

How could you say no to a sweet smile like the one your boyfriend had?

"Seokmin, baby, I really don't think I'm made for this." You look at him, and he adjusts his baseball cap, shaking his head as the watch on his wrist shuffles with his movements.

"We're just gonna give it sometime, okay? Let's try baseball again, okay?" Seokmin looks over to you, voice soft as he exits the tennis portion of the game.

"You'll crush me! You're so good at baseball, Minnie, it's not even a competition with you." You mumble, and Seokmin laughs, kissing your cheek as he shakes his head. "I'll go easy on you, I promise. I want you to get the hang of it first."

As he continues to find the baseball setting, you watch your boyfriend from behind, studying his broad frame and muscled shoulders and arms he's gotten by pitching baseballs and serving volleyballs, no doubt.

As Seokmin worked to recallibrate your controller, you studied his nearly perfect batting form, watching the slope of his nose, bite of his bottom lip, and twinkle of his eye as he focused on the instruction on screen.

"Alright, I think I've got it. Come on, honey, let's try again." Seokmin hands you your remote, and you sigh, shuffling to get in place as you spread out from him.

"Why can't we just play Mariokart and call it a day?" You question, and Seokmin looks over to you, eyes puppy-like as he juts out his lower lip.

"Let's just try one more time, okay? Just one more time." Seokmin begs like a little child, and you can't say no, especially when he's looking at you with wide, sparkly eyes.

"......Fine. One more time." You finally give in, spreading your legs out as you get ready to bat. "I love you." Seokmin looks over to you, nose scrunched up as his eyes disappear into pretty crecsents.

Shaking your head, you brace for Seokmin's pitch, giving it your best shot as you swing your arm like he told you. Your ball flies into the sky, an announcement of a home run adorning the screen as you scream and jump for joy. Seokmin runs to you, obviously happy for you as he picks you up in his arms and spins you around.

Once he places you down, with your hands still on his shoulders and his still on your waist, he takes the Wii remote from you, eyes now half lidded as he smirks at you.

Unable to look at him seriously, you laugh, eyes lighting up as you take in Seokmin's now devious expression. It's obvious that he wants something from you, but you can't blame him, as you also want what he's thinking about.

"I think I deserve a home run kiss." You whisper, bringing your hand to the brim of his baseball cap as you take it off, revealing his messy, dark brown hair.

"I was just about to give it to you." Seokmin says, voice soft yet deep as he searches your eyes.

Your run your hands through his hair, letting the bangs fall in front of his eyes perfectly as he starts to lean in, eyes closing as his lips touch yours. His lips feel perfect against yours, and your hands go from Seokmin's shoulders to sliding down his strong back, and making their way back into his curly hair.

The baseball cap in your hands is long gone, on the floor as your hands go back to Seokmin's broad shoulders yet again. He smiles under you, over the moon at your kisses as he pulls away, breathless.

"I knew you could do it. You just needed a little bit of practice." Seokmin smiles softly, and you sway with him, hands in his as you stare into his eyes.

"I think it's because your Mii character is so cute." You tease lightly, and Seokmin glares at you, picking up his baseball cap and throwing it at you as you squeal, laughing.

"I'm just kidding, Seokmin. No Mii could ever take me from you." You sigh, and Seokmin beams, handing you your controller as he asks: "For one last time?"

feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated! i love reading your throughts :>

[littlespoonevan]

.

[jellyfish-grave]

Don't talk to me i am coping

[gideonisms]

Bestie you're a Mercymorn appreciater, the top/bottom debate has long since been solved

HELPPPP in which direction though??

[napstabl00k]

starlo didn't want to know that about your relationship, martlet

[martysimone]

Area | Mussel • bustier top in purple lamé + crystal embellished straps | Resort 2023

[dollya-robinprotector]

I keep thinking of ur fem kylar ,shes just too cute…

Thank you~ I was actually surprised by the amount of love she gets! Like, I was like ok maybe male Kylar sucks, but a yandere mega-kawai-core pitiful girl could be a GREAT kind of way to stretch my hands then and there and voila...

I have to admit, drawing her is oddly satisfying for me too... suddenly just by changing gender Kylar wasn't all so "sucks" anymore

[clownsnake]

Is there anyone out there shipping zevlor/halsin bc I feel like that could be very good

[meekosthemeparkphotos]

My most popular photos on Tumblr in 2024. Thank you to everyone who followed, liked or reblogged this year, and hopefully there will be many more fun photos from the parks in 2025.

[gravitywonagain]

Sake and Cider at Sunrise

(a Fresh Powder in the Pine Trees story)

.

“Tomorrow morning, what are you doing?”

Lan Zhan is sitting at his desk in the middle of reading through something that looks exceedingly boring. Probably budget reports or something equally dull. Wei Ying isn't interrupting him so much as saving him.

Wei Ying half-sits on the edge of the desk as he grabs the paperwork from Lan Zhan’s hands and skims it. It is a budget report. 

“I --” Lan Zhan reaches to take the report back, but Wei Ying is faster, pulling it away as he interrupts whatever Lan Zhan was about to say.

“Nope. The answer is ‘meeting Wei Ying at Dafan for fresh pow.’”

He grins as Lan Zhan lets out a small sigh, his shoulders slumping under the burden that is being Wei Ying’s friend. 

In the most deadpan manner possible, Lan Zhan looks at Wei Ying and repeats, “Meeting Wei Ying at Dafan for fresh pow.”

Wei Ying bursts out laughing, almost falling off the desk, “You should say ‘pow’ way more often. I’ll die. It’s amazing,” he says, getting control over himself again. “Okay. But really. You wanna go?”

“I… sure. What time?”

“You’re gonna love this: Meet me there at five-thirty.”

The confusion on Lan Zhan’s face is understandable.

“In the morning?”

“In the morning.”

The skepticism is... also understandable, if a little dramatic. 

“You, and I quote, ‘hate waking up before dawn with the fire of the noonday sun which is way better than the dawn sun anyway.’”

Wei Ying laughs again, “I can’t believe you remember all that!”

Lan Zhan’s expression shifts to one part it’s true so what the fuck are you on about with this five-thirty nonsense, one part am I being pranked?, and one part I listen to the things you say and Wei Ying isn’t quite sure what to do with any of that. 

“But, yeah, that’s true. Unless it’s for powder. I will do many things for good powder.”

Now Lan Zhan looks like he’s filing that bit of information away for later, which is not concerning in the least. He turns his body to face Wei Ying and gives him his full attention. It’s a lot.

“Okay. What should I bring?”

Right. Backcountry. 

“Any gear you would want for hiking and powder skiing. You can borrow Wen Ning’s skins and bindings, I already asked. They won’t be perfect, but they’ll do for now, and I’ve got beacons and shit that I can lend you. You’ve done avalanche safety, right?”

“Every year since I was twelve.”

“Wow, say that with a little more disdain, Lan Zhan.”

“It was a requirement in school and now a requirement for my certifications.”

Wei Ying chuckles at the weird contempt Lan Zhan has for his many certs and their annual requirements. “Okay. Well, maybe this will make it feel more worth it.”

“If you say so.” Lan Zhan does not sound convinced.

“I do! The snow report looks epic!”

“Epic?”

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth that makes Wei Ying’s heart beat faster.

Wei Ying nods, “Epic, Lan Zhan.”

“I hope you don’t mean that in the alpinist sense.”

In the alpinist sense, “epic” would mean that they hike, get lost, someone’s binding breaks, a freak storm hits, they have to dig in for the night, they leave at least one piece of gear on the mountain to be found in the spring, and, eventually, they make it back to the cars, hungry, tired, and probably after running into their own search party on the way down. This is absurd. Lan Zhan is such a fucking nerd. Wei Ying has no idea what he sees in him. 

He rolls his eyes but can’t quite keep himself from smiling, “When have I ever meant anything in the alpinist sense?”

Finding out Lan Zhan was a budding alpinist had been almost as bad as the minor panic Wei Ying had over the golfing scare with Jin Zixuan. Who wants to freeze their ass off, crossing crevasses on stupidly unstable ladders and getting hypoxic, just to stand on top of a mountain? Lan Zhan, apparently. 

“I will get you on big mountains one day.”

“Only if I can ride down.”

“Hm.”

Lan Zhan narrows his eyes, calculating but smug. Like he’s just won, or figured out how to win but needs to adjust his strategy. 

Wei Ying kind of hates it. But it’s kind of captivating, too, and hot. Very hot. 

Especially when Lan Zhan leans in slightly and Wei Ying mirrors him, caught in the gravity of Lan Zhan’s sharp gaze. Lan Zhan’s eyes flick to Wei Ying’s lips and Wei Ying is about to say something about them being in the fucking Ski School office when, suddenly, Lan Zhan snatches the budget reports out of Wei Ying’s hands and leans back in his chair. 

Smug, indeed. 

-

It’s still dark when Wei Ying pulls into the Dafan parking lot in his and the Wens’ well-loved, mostly-red ‘98 Subaru Outback. Did he make fun of Wen Qing for being a stereotype when she bought it? Yes. Does he love driving it around the mountains because it is, objectively, a good mountain car? Also, yes. Of course, next to Lan Zhan’s clean, white 2018 Jeep Cherokee, it looks like an absolute beater. 

Wei Ying looks at the clock on the dash as he cuts the engine. 05:27. Fuck yeah. He zips up his jacket, grabs the two thermoses from the passenger seat, and gets out of the car to meet Lan Zhan where he’s lifting the Jeep’s hatchback. 

It’s cold and quiet. Dark. The sun hasn’t even really started lighting the sky yet. Wei Ying breathes in the mountain air, pine trees and snow and granite, and lets it freeze his lungs for a moment. His shoes crunch on the snow and gravel as he walks toward Lan Zhan. 

“Good morning, Sunshine!”

“Good morning, Wei Ying. You’re… awake.”

Wei Ying smiles at Lan Zhan’s surprise, “Yeah, well, I drove here, so I sure hope so.”

“Mn.”

Their breath condenses in the air and swirls in the light from Lan Zhan’s open door. 

Wei Ying hands the cleaner, less dented, stolen from Wen Qing thermos to Lan Zhan, then turns to open his own hatchback to begin sorting through his own gear.

He can see Lan Zhan out of the corner of his eyes as he does. Standing as if frozen, with the thermos held out in front of him, confusion radiating off him like body heat.

“A Wei Family treat for the top!” says Wei Ying.

It doesn't seem to clear up Lan Zhan's questions.

“Okay, well, yours is just tea, you fucking lightweight." Never. He will never let it go. "But mine is sake and cider!”

Lan Zhan's eyebrow pops up, but it's an expression of curiosity rather than confusion. Wei Ying doesn't let himself think for too long about how well he can read Lan Zhan's silences these days. Or how fucking sculpted Lan Zhan's cheekbones and jaw are.

“My dad used to make up thermoses for my mom when she was backyard touring. He made them when we were all together, too, and let me have sips at the top.”

“Of sake?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t much, just a taste. But now it’s a tradition.”

Lan Zhan nods and sets the thermos down on the bumper of the jeep as he gathers his gear. He, as it turns out, already had touring bindings and skins, or his brother did, so they’re actually more prepared than Wei Ying had planned for, which is perfect.

“You’re gonna have your own gear by the end of the season,” says Wei Ying with a grin.

“Am I?”

“You are. And it’s going to be all the really nice, expensive stuff and I’m gonna be so jealous.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

—

The hike starts out smooth, though Lan Zhan struggles a bit with the grade of the climb. Wei Ying cheats a little by putting his own climbing bars up, "Stiletto mode," he calls it, and Lan Zhan grumbles even though he's not the one breaking trail.

“Have you ever actually worn stilettos?” Lan Zhan asks.

“Oh, Honey, just wait until you see me in drag. You will lose your gotdamn mind.” 

Lan Zhan is mostly silent as they hike. Wei Ying lets the quiet linger.

It's early. They're surrounded by soft, fluffy powder. The air is still and freezing.

By the time they're halfway up the hill, they can turn off and stow their headlamps, the cold light of dawn shading everything blue. When they reach the top, the sun is peeking over the ridgeline, painting the sky and snow with pinks and purple, gilding the moutnains across the valley, sparkiling on the calm lake water in the distance.

Wei Ying drops his pack, fishing out his thermos and watching Lan Zhan do the same. He takes off his gloves to unscrew the cap, to press the release and pour himself a little cup of nostalgia.

The hike wasn't particualrly long or arduous. He feels his legs engaged, not tired. They still protest when he sits, though the chill of the snow through his snowpants eases some of their complaints. The sake eases them further.

Lan Zhan's eyes fall closed as he sips his tea, still standing, skis and poles stabbed upright into the snow next to him.

"This is nice," he says, and Wei Ying thinks he's not talking about the tea.

He's so beautiful in the morning light. It might be worth waking up early just to see him like this: serene in the cold, lit gold by the sun.

Steam rises from his thermos cap, turning his nose pink.

"Yeah," says Wei Ying, "yeah, it is."

After a calm moment, they begin to strip the skins off, the ripping sound loud in the near silent valley. Wei Ying shows Lan Zhan how to fold them in on themselves so that they won't stick to anything and everything in his pack.

When Wei Ying grabs his toolkit and gets to work switching his bindings around, Lan Zhan asks if he can try Wei Ying's drink.

Well, no. He asks if he can try the "Wei Family treat," but Wei Ying can't think about that too hard right now. He just grins and asks, "You gonna pass out on me at the top of this mountain, Lan Zhan?"

"Just a small sip," Lan Zhan says, taking the proffered thermos.

The face he makes rivals the cute scrunching of his nose when he tried beer for the first time.

“This is not sake or apple cider," he says, disdain and distrust in his voice.

Wei Ying laughs, “It is!”

“No, this is brewed rice alcohol and instant cider mix.” 

“You’ve seen my car. You think I can afford good alcohol?”

“I think this is closer to a cleaning solution than food grade,” he says, sniffing the thermos, wincing dramatically, and then handing it back to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying takes the thermos laughing, “Not all of us own a mountain, Lan Zhan!”

He loves bitchy Lan Zhan. He does not understand how Lan Zhan has managed to convince everybody that he’s all serious and stoic all the time. 

“Real sake need not be expensive,” Lan Zhan says, sounding exactly as rich as he is. 

“Like you’ve ever even tasted ‘real’ sake,” Wei Ying shoots back with a smile. 

“I’m not sure I’ve tasted any sake.”

Wei Ying snorts into a new bout of laughter and drops to his knees in the snow next to his splitboard. He giggles his way through configuring it back into a snowboard shape while Lan Zhan adjusts his ski bindings. 

“Alright,” says Wei Ying when he calms himself enough to speak, “Are you going to keep making fun of me? Or are we going to get some sunrise fresh tracks?”

“Just waiting for you to finish minor surgery on your gear.”

Wei Ying has to stop strapping in because he can’t breathe. It’s the deadpan snark that just fucking kills him. That bone-dry delivery. That playful glint in his honey-brown eyes. That deep, smooth baritone. Getting off track.

“Okay, punchy,” he says with his arms resting on his knees and his lungs labored with his amusement, “Is this what alcohol does to you before you pass out? Do we need to wait for you to sober up from your single, tiny sip?”

Lan Zhan makes a face that is somehow haughty and embarrassed and unimpressed all while saying fuck you with his eyes. 

Wei Ying loves it. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” Wei Ying says to no one in particular as he stands and clips the chest strap of his back pack together. He checks himself, looks around their spot. Nothing looks out of place. 

He shakes the adrenaline into his arms, feeling the moment shift. Lan Zhan, too, seems to feel the change in mood as he adjusts his goggles on his face. They share a look, a nod. It feels as natural as the smell of pine trees on the breeze. 

“Okay,” Wei Ying says with a smile, “let’s go.”

Wei Ying hops his board once, takes a deep breath of cold mountain air, drops his nose into the bowl, and floats.

Riding in untracked powder down a steep, open slope is one of his favorite things in life. He carves into the mountain and feels it carry him. His toe-edge cuts through the powder and he leans into the slope, dragging his hand through the snow just to catch it on his glove. It’s light, airy, cold. The wind rushes in his ears and he hears his own heartbeat.

His shoulders roll with the turns and his hips follow, easy as anything, used to this from years and years of muscle memory. He cruises down the slope, big easy turns, powder spraying in his wake. The sun is still lancing its rays across the mountain and it sparkles with the colors of dawn. He flows with it. His knees bend into the stretch, toes curling in his boots, weight shifting without him ever having to think about it. 

He sees Lan Zhan fly past him and the cold stings his lungs. Lan Zhan is beautiful in motion. This is not the first time he’s thought this. But, here, in Wei Ying’s world of quiet mountains and fresh powder, Lan Zhan is beautiful. His turns are clean and graceful, a slow rhythm building when he plants a pole. 

For a moment, Wei Ying sees his baba. 

When he meets Lan Zhan at the bottom of the hill, Wei Ying is smiling so hard he can’t control it. He, very carefully, does not spray Lan Zhan with snow when he stops, choosing to stop down mountain on his toes. There will be more laps. This one he wants to be as smooth and perfect as their first tracks. He wants so badly for Lan Zhan to be happy, to be enjoying this with him.

“What do you think?” he asks, trying not to let his anticipation color his voice. 

Lan Zhan turns toward him, then looks back up at the mountain, then back to Wei Ying. It’s not easy to see behind the goggles, but there’s a fire lit inside him. 

He smiles at Wei Ying. It’s small, a twitch of his lips, but real and young and happy. The same almost childish exuberance colors his voice when he says, “Again.”

The second lap is excellent, not only because Wei Ying gets to stare at Lan Zhan’s ass for the entire hike up, but also because the ride down is just as floaty, just as soft and perfect and breathtaking as the first. He does manage to spray Lan Zhan with powder this time and Lan Zhan’s unimpressed face kills Wei Ying for a second time before 8am. 

The sun shines bright in the sky on the third hike up and already the heat is rising. They begin to strip layers even before they start the climb -- jackets stowed in backpacks as they each drink some water and reset their gear. 

Wei Ying’s shirt comes off about halfway up the mountain. 

At the top, Wei Ying finds that Lan Zhan’s insulation layer has been tied around his waist and that there’s a silver necklace chain barely visible under the collar of his henley. 

When he asks about it, Lan Zhan takes his gloves off and pulls it free. It’s a family necklace, he explains, a diamond and aquamarine accented platinum snowflake on a platinum chain. His brother has a matching one, so do his father and uncle. 

He trails off and Wei Ying thinks there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t want to press. Not now. Not the time. 

They glide down the slope, crossing nobody’s tracks but their own. It’s quiet and peaceful and it’s just them. Only them. A perfect kind of solitude. 

It’s not until the fifth hike up that Lan Zhan finally gives in to the heat. 

Their muscles and bodies are warm from exertion, midday is truly upon them. In the rising temperatures Lan Zhan stops climbing, plants his poles and starts removing his pack. 

The sudden cessation of hiking noise and the sliding plastic sound of a backpack buckle behind him causes Wei Ying to stop and turn. When he does, he sees Lan Zhan, gloves stowed on his grips, shirt coming off over his head, winter-pale skin shining in the high noon sun. (Best sun. Best sun for so many reasons now.)

Wei Ying’s brain breaks a little. 

It’s one thing to know that someone is an athlete. It is another to see the sculpted muscle and lean lines that that entails. It’s a third to see all of that for the first time surrounded by mountains and powder and pine trees and perfectly lit by winter sunlight and the surrounding snow. Wei Ying wishes he had his camera. 

“The Heavens have blessed us this day.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan sounds both pleased and annoyed as he tucks his shirt into his backpack. The gemstone snowflake hangs between his collarbones, askew from his movement. 

“Seriously, Lan Zhan. Holy fuck. How is that fair?”

The man has a six-pack and sex lines and still manages to look genuinely confused by Wei Ying’s reaction. The audacity. 

“I bet you have a gym in your house, don’t you.”

“I do,” Lan Zhan says easily, putting his gloves back on and drawing attention to his forearms. As if Wei Ying weren’t already absurdly attracted to him. 

“Oh, fuck off.”

Lan Zhan’s shoulders and chest and arms flex as he pulls his poles out of the snow and gestures with one up the hill. It doesn’t even look deliberate which drives Wei Ying crazy. His snow pants sit low on his hips and Wei Ying wants, almost desperately, for a reason to make Lan Zhan go first so he can check out his back muscles as he hikes. Nothing comes to mind. He settles for maybe, possibly, getting a repeat wardrobe change on their next lap. 

Fuck, he wants to see those muscles work. 

“Yeah,” Wei Ying lets his eyes drag over Lan Zhan one more time before turning back up the trail, “I’m gonna go bury my head in the snow to cool off now. Thanks. Where’s an avalanche when you need one?” He stabs his poles into the snow and grabs his t-shirt from his waistband. 

“What are you doing?”

“Putting my fucking shirt back on. I have enough self-esteem issues, thank --”

“Don’t.”

There’s something in Lan Zhan’s voice that forces Wei Ying to turn and look at him. Something vulnerable and raw.

“Don’t?”

“Please,” he says softly, “I like looking at you.”

Wei Ying feels speared open by that. He feels… The blush that creeps up his chest is bared already. 

“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How are you so fucking sincere?”

Pink graces Lan Zhan’s ears as he holds Wei Ying’s eyes. He says nothing. He doesn’t look away. 

Wei Ying gives.

“Okay. Okay, the shirt’s staying off.”

When they reach the peak and start stripping the skins off their skis, Wei Ying does, in fact, stick his face in the snow. It only helps a little. 

They finish after a sixth lap. 

Lan Zhan does take off his shirt again as he leads the hike up. 

Wei Ying, somehow, doesn’t die about it. 

-

The next day, after lessons are closed, Lan Zhan meets him by the instructor lockers and hands him the thermos he’d taken home. When Wei Ying grabs it, it’s heavier than he expects and it sloshes like it’s full. He quirks an eyebrow at Lan Zhan, but Lan Zhan just nods at it, clearly waiting for Wei Ying to take a sip. So he does. 

It’s hot and sweet and… alcoholic? It’s smooth and thick, but not syrupy, and smells spiced. 

“This is delicious, Lan Zhan!”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan looks smug as hell and says, “That is sake and cider.”

Wei Ying’s laughter can probably be heard all the way in HR, he shakes so hard with it. 

He loves it when Lan Zhan is a bitch. 

[martianbugsbunny]

Tiana Appreciation Post

[nerdieforpedro]

Security Logs

Part of the Secret Springs Creative Challenge hosted by Mayor El aka @secretelephanttattoo

Should be fluffy I think, any warnings will be in the specific log as always. They’ll be in first person as Chlóe is dictating her notes, (I restarted Star Trek Discovery - I was influenced). Could go smutty or smut adjacent? Depends on the day. We’ll see. Unsure of how many drabbles, at least five, managing security is a tough job. Will have all the bad jokes and puns per usual Nerdie behavior. Seeking out a giggle is in my core (we start with the puns already).

Pairing: Frankie Morales x plus size AFAB OFC (Chlóe Thomas)

Security Log - One Failed Search (Posted 07/01/2024)

Security Log Two - A Walk with your Pilot (Posted 07/07/2024)

Security Log Three - What do you use that for? (Pending)

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[locomotive-complicity]

happy wrapped day, in honor of it, here's mine