#burnxdbridges

[btwnthepines]

closed starter for ... 𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙸𝙿𝙴𝚁 + 𝙰𝚉𝚁𝙰

𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐; @burnxdbridges

the rustle of foliage near the southern wall caused juniper to suspend her fountain pen mid stroke. seated upon the stone ledge of her second floor awnin, a vantage point she had claimed hours earlier purely to observe the lunar light spilling across her hydrangeas, she felt a sudden, unmistakable flutter in her chest. her spine straightened. the habitual veneer of her composure softened just enough for an expectant, triumphant gleam to ignite in her gaze. she leaned over the iron wrought balustrade, fully prepared to bestow a grand, mocking welcome upon the rogue chef who so routinely trespassed into her sanctuary. there was, after all, precisely one rebellious wildflower granted imperial dispensation to infiltrate these grounds.

yet, as the shadows parted beneath the trellis, the figure that emerged into the silver glow possessed entirely the wrong silhouette. no familiar, defensive posture. no cigarette filter balance between fingers. merely an unfamiliar intruder stepping uninvited across the moss. the subtle spark behind juniper’s eyelids vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, glittering disappointment that she masked behind an immediate posture of sovereign disdain. she rested her wrists against the cold iron, peering down from her perch like an offended deity inspecting a stray beetle.

"i shall forego inquring if you have lost your way," juniper drawled, her voice cutting through the midnight air with the cool, theatrical perfection of a guillotine blade, "for it is offensively obvious that your inner compass is utterly beyond repair. state your business before i decide your presence is an eyesore that requires immediate eradication."

[btwnthepines]

closed starter for ... 𝙽𝙾𝙰𝙷 + 𝙰𝚉𝚁𝙰

𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐; @burnxdbridges

the narrow alleyway behind loulou’s smelled of damp cedar, old grease, and the cold, wet air rolling off the mountains. noah was crouched on an overturned milk crate beside the rusted dumpster, his broad frame doubled over. his hands were pressed tight against the sides of his face, knuckles pale, fingers digging into his scalp as if he could physically squeeze the roaring static out of his head. his chest hitched, air refusing to reach his lungs, trapped in a tight, suffocating knot right beneath his sternum. he didn't hear the footsteps approaching down the gravel path from the main street.

noah’s light eyes snapped open, wild and defensive beneath his messy curls as he picked up on the presence. he looked like a cornered animal, his forehead slick with sweat, waiting for the inevitable questions, the intrusion, or the pity. "i'm fine," noah rasped, his voice a broken, jagged thing that barely carried over the drizzle tapping against the metal dumpster. he pressed his thumb hard into his temple, trying to anchor his vision against the tilt of the alley. "you don't...you don't gotta sit out here in the wet."

when she didn't move to leave, he let out a shaky, shuddering breath. his eyes falling to the plastic bottle sitting on the pavement between them. "i mean it," he muttered, his gravelly drawl softer now, stripped of its usual armor. "...it's freezing out here." slowly, the roar in his ears began to dull. he kept his hand pressed to his forehead, but the tightness in his lungs eased just enough for a proper breath to slip through.

[btwnthepines]

closed starter for ... 𝙸𝙽É𝚂 + 𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙽𝙽

𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐; @burnxdbridges

the front door opened and inés stepped across the threshold before quinn even had the chance to answer her knock. "i brought emergency rations," inés called out, sweeping into the entryway with an exaggerated flick of her wrist. blush colored trousers swishing against her heels as she held up a bottle of chilled rosé like an offering, a second bottle tucked firmly under her arm. she had wasted a full ten minutes idling in her car, perfecting her spine, leveling her silk camisole, desperately scrubbing away any remaining burns from that wretched supper with her family.

"one is for my evening, and the other is for my liver," inés drawled with easy charm, though a venomous undertone pierced right through her polished composure. she surrendered the cold glass, allowing her posture to finally slacken a fraction now that she was safe within friendly territory, miles from her family's tribunal. "i also brought some leftover pastelón, though my sister held the wooden spoon tonight, so approach with extreme care." her sister could brag endlessly about her sprawling suburban acreage and her prize husband, but it was tía inés's version of the casserole that the kids actually preferred at sunday dinners, and inés nursed a petty, glorious satisfaction over that tiny victory.

[liloubaudelaire]

What kind of common romance tropes do you enjoy and what kind do you dislike?

⸻ ❛ I do not typically consume standard romantic literature. I do not think I can answer that.❜

[liloubaudelaire]

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

⸻ ❛ Oohh, that's too easy. Around my boyfriend, Nils or Lukas. Apart from him, I'd say Val. ❜

mentions: @btwnthepines

[moonhxven]

closed starter for @burnxdbridges Hanne & Quinn

"And they just stormed out?" Hanne asked in disbelief, listening with wide eyes as Quinn described the scene she'd witnessed as she left work. She wasn't talking about her own patient's, so no violations were happening. God, if only Hanne could hear some of the juicy details of Quinn's therapy sessions. But, alas, there were laws against that. "People need to have more discretion." The fights she and Patrick had always happened behind closed doors where no one could hear them. There was nothing more awkward than an openly fighting couple, in Hanne's opinion. "Sounds like your day was a lot more entertaining than mine..." She sighed, reaching over to grab the bottle of wine they were drinking and refilling Quinn's glass. "I spent the day reviewing the Cove's financials..."

[btwnthepines]

closed starter from: 𝙽𝙾𝙰𝙷

@burnxdbridges

the engine of noah’s beat up truck cut out with a wet, heavy cough, leaving only the sound of the pinehaven rain drumming against the rusted roof. he sat there for a long minute in the dark driveway, his callused hands lingering on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the warm, yellow light spilling from the windows of quinn’s house. on the passenger seat sat a heavy, insulated catering bag, packed with the only kind of care package he knew how to assemble. he took a slow breath, forcing the baseline knot of anxiety down into his stomach, before he grabbed the handles and stepped out into the damp pacific northwest air.

noah didn't knock. he pushed through the front door, the heavy thump of his boots instantly announcing him to a house that always felt a little too bright and a little too cluttered compared to his own walls. his counters were bleached, his knives were magnetized to the wall in descending order of size, and the silence was total. quinn’s place was an entirely different beast. almost immediately, the frantic scuffle of small feet echoed from the hallway, followed by his niece yelling a greeting before she bolted back toward the living room.

noah didn't try to follow or offer a loud shout back; his social battery was already running on fumes just from making the drive. instead, he carried the bag straight into the kitchen, his large frame crowding the space as he set it down on the countertop. he could hear quinn somewhere down the hall, her voice carrying the sharp brooklyn cadence they shared. by the time she walked into the kitchen, noah was already unzipping the bag, his movements methodical and efficient.

he didn't look up, reaching into the bag and pulling out three heavy glass containers, still radiating a deep, comforting heat in lieu of a greeting. "braised short ribs," he nodded towards the containers. "polenta. the greens have vinegar in them so the kid might spit them out, but they're good for him."