#alaskababey

🤝 Brush your thumb over my muse’s knuckles // @aastrea

Seeing her cry put a weird pit in Logan’s stomach. Emotions weren’t something she necessarily handled well. The only person she knew how to deal with when it came to this was Niko. But she’d known Niko her entire life. It took literal years for Logan to figure out how to stop his little temper tantrums. One year it was giving him ice cream, another it was letting him wear her school uniform, another year it was bringing him along when she got her license. By the time he stopped freaking out, she had already figured him out. But Astrea— She’d only just met the girl a little while ago. And while she was wonderful, Logan didn’t really know how to care for a friend like this. But there was one thought that kept her going: If she was the one crying, Astrea would be there for her. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind.

The least she could do was try. After all… This little group was her first real friends. It would be a pity to let them down so early on. “Listen, I don’t know shit about love.” She says bluntly, feeling a bit relieved when Astrea seems to almost laugh through her tears. “But I know he loves you. I do. I see it on his stupid doofy face every day. He talks about you like non stop? Before I met you? I thought it was annoying.” Although, she gets it now. She really does. The girl before her is beautiful, kind, considerate, she didn’t deserve all the stress that seemed to fall on her shoulders. While Logan wasn’t great at comforting people or having friends for that matter, she also wasn’t very good with being touchy feely. But god, Astrea needed all three right now. So she’d have to make it work.

Her hands awkwardly reached out for the brunette’s, a split second of unsurely on her face as she held her hands. Finally, she brushed her thumbs over the girl’s knuckles, watching as the tears slowed ever so slightly. “Astrea if you really love him then maybe he’s worth fighting for. He makes you happier than your parents ever did, right? Maybe— I don’t know. Maybe that’s all you need.”

🌸 Tuck a flower into my muse’s hair // @wrendaily

The ballerina’s were so graceful. This was supposed to be just another quick job. A family friend owned the studio and wanted some new pictures for their promotional posters and website. A few days with her camera and some dancers— But Logan had never truly watched Ballet. It wasn’t one of the past times her parents enjoyed when she was a kid so the opportunity never really arose. Once she was a teenager and her father’s friend bought the studio she considered going. Up until now, she never got the chance. Now she was getting paid for it.

In the few days she’s been here, one of the Ballerina’s seems to be miles above the rest. The girl is petite with long brown hair and the brightest smile she’s seen in a while. No matter what they’re doing, no matter how hard it gets… She always looks happy. Today is her last chance to get photos before the official performances begin. And while she won’t miss the trek from her apartment to the studio, she will miss that ballerina. The one who smiles every day, who brings her coffee without saying a word. Wren. On the last day, she learns the girl’s name is Wren. “It suits you.” She says as the other ballerina’s head out. 

When the other spins on her heels and looks at her in confusion, Logan realizes this is the first time they’ve actually spoken. “Your name. Wren. It suits you.” She clarifies, placing her camera down. Their costumes are beautiful too. While she’s been looking through the lens, this is the first time seeing it up close. The design, the focus that goes into such intricate details is pretty incredible. Although, something is missing… All the girls had flowers in their buns earlier. Her eyes shift to the floor where Wren had turned around, a single pink lily laying there. Wandering over, she grabs it in between her fingers and without another word tucks it back into Wren’s hair. “There. The star of the show should look perfect.” She says simply, picking her stuff back up. “And now you do. Good luck. I’m sure the audience will love watching you. I did.”

✋ Press a lingering kiss to my muse’s palm // @alaskababey

“Hey, it’s out.” Alek said softly, placing the tweezers on the table once more. Truthfully, he wasn’t a professional when it came to first aid but he figured that taking care of a splinter was easy enough. When Alaska squeaked from the porch, he was quick to run over. That stupid porch had been a part of this house long before he moved in. Someone was bound to get stuck with a spare shred of wood sometime or another. He was only sad that it had to be Alaska. Even if it was something silly and small like a splinter.

“You can look now, Love.” He added fondly, a hand coming up to gently turn her head back towards him. It was probably for the best that she didn’t look. Squirming around when he was trying to grab it with the tweezers wasn’t exactly helpful. But she did so well. He couldn’t help but be proud, like a little kid at recess watching his friend jump off the swings for the first time. “I found these neon bandaids in the bathroom, you want pink or yellow?” He asked warmly. No matter how small the issue was, Alek always dealt with it with kindness and love in his words. It didn’t matter if she liked funky bandaids or hated getting a splinter. Those were things he could handle, and he would— happily. As soon as the bandaid was placed on her finger, his own hand lingered over hers. Without a second thought, he pressed a kiss to her palm. Looking up at the girl with warm brown eyes. “It’ll be okay. Promise.”