H O N E Y B E E

𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖑𝖔𝖕 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖐

[hazelrusso]

mountainclovers ; a private single muse blog for hazel russo.

⁰¹ about. 　⁰² pinterest. 　⁰³ playlist. 　⁰⁴ musings. ⁰⁵ visage.

WE LIE BACK, A BEAUTIFUL TIME LAPSE. FERRIS WHEELS, KISSES, AND LILACS, AND THINGS I SAID WERE DUMB! 'CAUSE I NEVER THOUGHT THAT I'D FIND THAT BEAUTIFUL LIFE THAT SHIMMERS THAT INNOCENT LIGHT BACK, LIKE WHEN WE WERE YOUNG !!

watermelon sugar high ; @aperturcs come back... be here ; @commonmonsters always be a part of me ; @rippcdwings you're first on my list ; @likecavities

[wintersvldierr]

Without even thinking about it, I used to be able to fly. Now I'm trying to look inside myself and find out how I did it.

[florideae]

if we’re dating and you see me lying down on my bed, you’re 100% allowed to just lay down on top of me

[unsung-tragedy]

[likecavities]

she knows that it's a bad idea to keep seeing paloma. she's been told. by hazel, by caleb, by archer, like – come on, she knows. but pal is also so pretty and so endearing, and she keeps saying she's sorry and that she misses her. sue her, if she likes the validation a little too much. "god," a laugh, "at least you had a better reaction than caleb." she can't help the relief. caleb had practically screamed NO in the center of boston, and then told her that if she needed rescuing he would be on his way immediately. but shiloh's not worried. she's trying to live in the moment, or whatever her therapist is telling her she should do. not that she's telling her therapist that she's been seeing paloma. it's NOT like she wants to get fucking institutionalized or something, and that's the kind of messy self destructive shit that shiloh's trying to pretend she can just talk her way out of !! she watches hazel light up at the mention of datings apps, and nods. "yeah." a grin, "but you're coming up with all of the photos from my camera roll and shit. i'm only good at the witty captions part."

[hazelrusso]

her nose scrunched in displeasure, but she let it sit there and lie instead of poking at it more. after a second, she shrugged. “i’m sure i had a better reaction than caleb,” she said, laughing softly. “he is a lot larger than life than i am – you realize that, right?” she smiled, fist pressed against her cheek as she looked at her friend, all fondness and curiosity and barely contained excitement. “i just know you have great photos on your camera roll, and if not, we’ll take some more. pull your phone out, let’s look.” a beat passed, and then, casual as ever, hazel added, “okay, so, like, speaking of dating… i went on another date with that guy i told you about. dakota.” she tried to say it like it was nothing, like her expression hadn’t gone a little warmer around the edges the second his name left her mouth.

[kermit4president-of-the-swamp]

Are you angry? Do you hate me?

[fcllenstar]

@mountainclovers / gabe & hazel.

[nopartyinvitations]

closed starter for anyone ! ( @grinninglikeadevil ) ──── ⋆☾･ﾟ

“Stop looking at me like that,” she hummed, brows knitted, and her gaze drew up slowly. Did she deserve it? Maybe. It’s all matter of opinion anyway. “I’m not going to feel bad for being honest.” Even when Maeve tended to go beyond what was the social norm. People deserved to hear the truth. “He didn’t have a chance. If he hadn’t wanted me to answer then why did he ask?” The brunette genuinely confused at the notion it might’ve been the wrong move. Harsh? Sure. Honest? Painfully.

[hazelrusso]

hazel grimaced at her friend. she admired maeve for her ability to be straightforward, and oftentimes wished she could exhibit the same qualities, but it was in her nature to feel awkward and quiet. SHY. a puzzle piece without the puzzle. her lips pressed together, an attempt to hide the smile on her face. "right -- i just don't think I could have done the same thing." she wrinkled her nose. "i think you need to teach me how to be more blunt. i could use that."

[touchtankx]

he gave a small roll of his eyes, rocking back from the fence before leaning over it again. he knew that she knew, of course she did. becoming his friend wasn't easy, there was always something going on, too much going on, he had a hard time saying no to anything. he said yes to half dead trees the greenhouse was selling for just the cost of the pots, he said yes to baby pigs he'd never planned on raising, a pregnant goat he hadn't had the space for, producing six types of melon when he'd only barely considered growing a single watermelon. if he was being honest, he was in desperate need of a farm hand, but a farm hand meant giving up control that he wasn't ready to let slip through his fingers. being his friend, at least in the sense that you were someone who regularly came to the farm, meant you got put to work. hazel was just lucky today that he still had some fun jobs left over. she was also lucky that he'd known it was going to be hot and gotten up before the sun to start harvesting everything he needed to today. picking tomatoes right about now would have been miserable. "he kicks." silas said again, hopping the fence and going over to pet the animal's face, half nicely petting him, half riling the animal up. "he don't teeth." he rolled his eyes again, reminding her about the teeth even though she was well aware, there was a reason she'd said when he gets bigger. he reached into his pocket, holding out a strawberry and watching the way the baby immediately turned his whole focus on him, "well look at that, and here I thought I was just boring."

[hazelrusso]

“well, come on, that’s not fair. you’re bribing him with food.” hazel raised a brow at silas, deeply unimpressed in the way only someone trying very hard not to smile could be. then she sighed, like this was devastating. “and i don’t wanna hear how i was feeding him. milk is a drink and a strawberry is food.” she stuck her tongue out at him, but there wasn’t any real annoyance behind it. she liked watching silas interact with the animals. liked the way he moved around them, the quiet competence of it, the ease he probably didn’t even realize he had. silas seemed to think he was hard to befriend, and yeah, maybe he kind of was. a little prickly. a little tough around the edges. but things like that didn’t matter much to hazel. she was quiet, but she was friendly, and when she decided she liked someone, that was it. she liked them. she didn’t need them to be easy first. besides, he grew up on a farm. didn’t that make sense? of course he was a little guarded. of course he had rough spots. hazel could work with rough spots. “we were bonding and you ruined our moment,” she teased, sighing. “i’m never recovering from this.” her hand drifted back toward the animal anyway, brows raised as she glanced at silas. “i hope you know you’ve made an enemy today.”

[iridescent-fingertips]

[hazelrusso]

@aperturcs ✦ dakota.

[hazelrusso]

@fcllenstar

[taketobeds]

an emergency room hallway curtained off from sight. + hazel

The heavy, metallic tang of motor oil and old road grit seemed to have seeped right into Willoughby’s skin, refusing to be scrubbed away by the harsh soap in the emergency room sink. He sat hunched on the edge of the exam table, the flimsy paper covering screaming with every shift of his weight, while the clinical white light of the curtained-off cubicle made the grease under his fingernails look even grimmer.

His forearm was wrapped in a temporary, blood-spotted gauze where a jagged piece of a snapped serpentine belt had whipped back and caught him, a reminder that the garage didn't take kindly to a man losing his focus for even a second. He felt entirely out of place, a creature of iron and exhaust fumes trapped in a world of bleached linens, and he couldn't help but feel a flicker of shame at the way his heavy work boots were tracking dried shop floor mud onto the pristine tiles.

Hazel sat just a few feet away, a quiet anchor in the midst of the hospital's muffled chaos, and Willoughby found himself tracing the line of her profile with a desperate sort of intensity he hoped she didn't notice. Watching her was like looking at a sunset after a twelve-hour shift — something peaceful and far too good for a man like him — but it terrified him how much he wanted to just reach out and hold onto that peace. He was used to fixing things with wrenches and brute force, not navigating the delicate, terrifying terrain of someone actually caring where he was hurting.

The sight of her gentle, worried expression made his throat go tight, sparking a sudden, frantic need to fill the air with noise before he did something like openly admit he'd only been distracted at the shop because he'd been consumed by the way she laughed the night before.

He let out a short, self-deprecating huff of breath, his eyes trying to look anywhere but at the soft concern in her gaze. "Reckon I look like shit, huh?" He murmured, his voice sounding low and gravelly, the thick cadence of his Alabama drawl smoothing out the sharp edges of the room. "Ain't exactly the romantic afternoon I had in mind, havin' you sit here listenin' to me grunt every time a nurse walks by with a needle." He scoffs, his head shaking. "I'm truly sorry for havin' you cooped up in here, Hazel. 'Specially since you could be off somewhere doin' somethin' a lot more gratifying."

[taketobeds]

a lake dock at dawn, water perfectly still. + hazel

The morning air was thick and cool, carrying the scent of damp pine and the deep, earthy breath of the lake as the first grey light began to leak over the horizon. Willoughby sat on the edge of the weathered timber dock, his heavy work boots dangling just inches above the glassy surface of water. The water remained so undisturbed that it looked more like polished stone than liquid.

The silence out here was absolute, broken only by the occasional, distant knock of a woodpecker or the rhythmic creak of the wood beneath them as the dock settled into the silt. In the half-light, the scars and grease stains on his hands were muted, softened by the silver mist that clung to the shoreline. For a moment, the frantic noise of the garage felt like it belonged to a different life entirely.

Hazel was perched beside him, a presence so still and unassuming that she seemed to melt right into the landscape, her sketchpad resting against her knees like a shield. Willoughby kept his shoulders squared, staring out at the bar bank where the mist was thickest. His entire focus was pulled toward her like a compass needle finding north. He wanted to say something.

Something that might actually match the quiet beauty of the moment, but the words felt too large and clumsy in his mouth. Like it threatened to shatter the peace she'd found. It was a terrifying thing, realizing that he would rather spend a thousand mornings sitting in aching silence than risk saying the wrong thing and watching that soft, contemplative look vanish from her face. Admitting he felt this way, even to himself, felt like stepping out onto thin ice.

He finally shifted, the movement slow and deliberate. He let out a long, quiet breath that misted the air before he turned his head just enough to catch the light in her eyes.

"Sure is somethin', ain't it?" He said softly, his voice a low, melodic rumble that barely rose above the sound of the water lapping against the pilings. "I don't think I've ever seen the world look this settled. Usually, by the time I'm awake, things are movin' too fast to get a good look at 'em. But out here? Well, It's enough to make a man forget 'bout all the other shit goin' on in his life." Willoughby stills for a moment, letting a quiet moment settle between the two of them. "I'm glad you talked me into comin' along, Hazel, even if I am mostly just takin' up space while you're just tryin' to catch the light."

[taketobeds]

wraps their arms around the other from behind and rests their head on the others shoulder. + hazel

The park was a chaotic sea of silhouettes and flickering glow-sticks, the air thick with the smell of scorched gunpowder and the humid, grassy heat of a mid-July evening. All around them, the excited chatter of the crowd and the distant cries of children were swallowed up by the rhythmic, chest-thumping boom of the fireworks as they blossomed overhead in violent strokes of crimson and cold.

Willoughby stood a head taller than most of the folks packed onto the lawn. Feeling the familiar, restless energy of being in such a tight space, all that tension seemed to dissipate the moment he focused on Hazel. She stood just in front of him, her small frame illuminated by the strobe-light flashes from above, and the sight of her looking so upwardly transfixed made his own heart do a nervous, stumbling dance against his ribs.

Stepping forward, letting his instincts override the voice in his head that kept telling him to stay guarded. To keep that safe, iron-clad distance he was so used to maintaining. He moved in close, the head radiating between them, and slowly looped his thick, calloused arms around her waist. Drawing her back against his chest until there was no longer a whisper of air between them. He felt a sudden, sharp intake of breath at the sheer vulnerability of the gesture. His pulse was racing faster than the fuses lighting up the sky.

Tentatively, he lowered his head, resting his chin on the soft curve of her shoulder. His face half-hidden by her hair, closing his eyes for just a brief second. He let himself exist in the feeling of holding something so fragile and precious, his rough exterior finally yielding to the quiet, terrifying warmth she stirred deep in his soul.

He tightened his hold just a fraction. A silent anchor amidst the booming pyrotechnics and the shifting crowd. His voice was barely a murmur against the shell of her ear once he gathered the courage to speak. "Just thought you might need a bit of a windbreak with all these folks pushin' and shovin'," he said, the low steady vibration of his Southern drawl barely audible over the next thunderous explosion of blue light.

"Started thinkin' I might lose sight of you in all this mess, and that's the last thing I'd want to happen." He's sure that she can hear the smile on his face. "You don't mind me leanin' on you for a second, do you?"

[commonmonsters]

Ayen felt herself soften at Hazel’s admission. That was good, albeit a change in character. But she wanted Hazel to be happy. Her girlfriend deserved that more than anything and anyone, and who would Ayen be for not wanting that too? The kiss settled her in a way only Hazel could manage to do, and in that moment, every problem, thought, or unwanted emotion she was shouldering dissipated.

But as soon as Hazel mentioned Rusty not liking it, the model’s brows furrowed in confusion. Even odder, she and Rusty were velcroed to the hip. The samoyed was practically tied to her girlfriend’s heels, yipping along in excitement as they moved like a unit throughout their home. Now that she thought about it more, Ayen couldn’t remember the last time Hazel pouted at her.

The mention of the coffee mug filled the room with a teetering, unnerving silence. The previous grievances could have been explained. Maybe. But the black coffee made Ayen pump the brakes. Sure, palettes changed. But this was Hazel, the woman who grimaced every time Ayen made her coffee without a single thing to sweeten or dilute it. This was the same woman who proceeded to try it anyway and gagged until Ayen conceded and sweetened up to share with her girlfriend. The model hummed, her mind already running a mile a minute with possibilities that she didn’t have a lick of proof for.

“I wish I could, honey. I have a couple of virtual meetings in a little bit, and then I have to go into the studio later to meet one of the photographers for a new shoot. But…” Her voice trailed off, and she nudged her phone over onto the nightstand. Ayen’s full attention was back on Hazel, pressing her lips to her forehead. “We can stay like this for a little while.” Her hands wrapped around Hazel’s forearms, squeezing gently. The uncertainty still plagued Ayen’s mind as her gaze fixed on her girlfriend’s. There was something wrong; her spirit was telling her clear as day. She just couldn’t figure out what.

[hazelrusso]

she sighed, fully acquiescing to the fact that the world apparently hated the two of them spending time together. very rude. deeply unfair. possibly personal. but when ayen said they could stay pressed together for a little bit, hazel smiled warmly, brightening again like that was all she’d needed to hear. she rolled to ayen’s side, pressing her head against her chest and wrapping one leg around her like she had every intention of keeping her there. ayen might have been thinking about all the strange little ways hazel had been acting, the coffee, rusty, the too-bright happiness clinging to her like perfume, but hazel wasn’t thinking about any of that. all hazel could think about was how much she wanted to stay right there. her fingers traced little shapes across ayen’s chest, lazy and affectionate, while she listened to the sound of her breathing. “what’s the vibe of the new shoot?” she asked, voice soft and curious. she tilted her head just enough to look up at her, smiling like nothing in the world felt wrong at all. “tell me everything.”

[taketobeds]

📷 + hazel mwehehe

⭒⭑⭒⭑⭒ — send me 📷 and i'll share photos of your muse my muse. has saved on their phone !

he just luvs her face !!!!!

[aperturcs]

dakota's brain stopped working somewhere between the tank top coming off and when she said it would be beautiful just because he did it. "oh." he said, cursing himself for letting it slip out. his face went warmer, which was impressive, considering he was pretty sure he had already been blushing hard enough to count as a medical event. he tried not to stare. and failed, probably. tried again. this time dragging his eyes back up to her face because he wanted to be respectful, because the trust in her voice landed somewhere much deeper than the initial shock.

"you can't just say stuff like that," he mumbled, but there was nothing other than warmth in his voice. his mouth kept trying to smile even when he looked down, embarrassed by how easily she made him feel seen. "that's a lot of pressure. like, what if i paint a weird little frog?" a beat passes. "actually, no. i could make a weird little frog beautiful. never mind." his hand hovered for a second, careful, fingers still stained with color. he looked at her again before touching her, because suddenly the whole thing felt different. still fun, still ridiculous, still them, but softer around the edges.

"your back. more space." really, it wasn't because this way she couldn't watch him overthink every single brushstroke. "i like what you said about trust," he admits after a moment passes, his voice soft. "i don't think i've ever really thought about it like that. but yeah," his gaze flicks to her, shy but steady. "it does feel intimate."

[hazelrusso]

when he let out that little oh, hazel smiled. her hand immediately went to his cheek, brushing a soft line across his cheekbone, and her nose wrinkled in contentment. the way his eyes darted from her chest to her eyes, then back down, then back up again made her laugh, warm and delighted. “you know, i can actually say whatever i want,” she teased, like that was a very important rule he needed to remember. warmth spread across her chest as she looked at him. hazel liked how sweet he was. she liked how careful he tried to be, how he got quiet in a way that made her want to reach for him over and over again. “you absolutely could make a little frog look beautiful. actually, i think you need to sneak one in now. just a little guy.” her smile widened at the thought, like she’d already decided the imaginary frog was essential to the piece. god, the way he hesitated before his hands brushed against her skin made something soft and fond swell in her chest. hazel reached for him again, grabbing his hand gently and bringing it to her mouth. she pressed a soft kiss there, lingering for half a second before looking back up at him. “you’re allowed to touch, for the record,” she whispered, quiet and sincere beneath all the playfulness. when he said he wanted to paint her back, hazel nodded excitedly. “okay!” she immediately laid down next to him on her stomach, legs crossed behind her, cheek resting against her forearms. there was no hesitation in it, no embarrassment, just trust and bright affection and that giddy warmth that seemed to follow him everywhere. she turned her head enough to look at him, smile softening at the edges. “c’mere, koda,” she murmured, voice sweet and certain. “make something beautiful.”

[hazelrusso]