❝ The real enemy... is the blessings given by deluded gods.❞
✦ Welcome to my personal blog. This is merely a place for me to connect with others and stumble upon some gems from time to time. I also write sometimes. ✦
Ordained by the Tsaritsa, here comes thy retainer.
You can call me Aria or Ari. I am a ’04 liner, and I go by she/her pronouns. Also, a person who believes her yearning will get her out of every life’s mess. Constantly struggling with AuDHD and OCD, but still here somehow, breathing, alive, and filled with so much love for everything I hold dear. I am also an avid gamer. I play tons of games. At the moment, I am most invested in Love and Deepspace (Xavier main) and Genshin Impact (Raiden main, future Tsaritsa main). I also enjoy reading poetry, webcomics, and watching TV shows and anime.
Make sure to familiarize yourself with the rules of the palace.
About my writing
I have written creative works before. However, I have just gotten into writing self-indulgent fanfics. I was a bit hesitant about posting my works online, but after some nudging from my teacher, I have decided to do so. As for what pieces I write? Well, to be brief, it’s everything that keeps me immersed in daydreams for months and even years. The character I mostly write for is Xavier because I have grown to understand him the most (and in some ways, he also reminds me of myself, so writing him is also like a way to understand myself as well).
I don’t write dark fiction; however, do note: I am an avid advocate and supportive of those who do write such content and an active reader of the genre. If you don’t align with this, please block me. I won’t waste my time explaining to a stranger online why pro-ship isn’t necessarily morally bad.
If you think reading or writing dark fiction equates to your in-real-life morals, then that’s a “you” problem! Not mine, or anyone else’s.
Disclaimer
1) As stated above, this blog is pro-ship/dark content and will occasionally reblog posts pertaining to that.
2) Writing is my hobby as of now, not my job. I write for my own joy and share for connection. Comments are always welcome, but please keep them kind and supportive as I’m not looking for constructive criticism or feedback.
3) Please be kind to me and to everyone. I will not tolerate any form of harassment.
4) Please don’t plagiarize any of my stuff. I don’t condone my writing being uploaded elsewhere, translated, copied, or fed into AI.
5) I don’t care if minors interact with my blog. Just don’t announce it to everyone.
Tags
✦ — gallery: All kinds of stuff: fanart, gifs, videos
✦ — letters to you: All sorts of prose: poetry, quotes, typography
✦ — the quill never dries: Writing related posts I liked
✦ — the veranda: Random reblogs I made (half asleep)
✦ — the library: Fanfics I’ve read and enjoyed
✦ aria writes: My original writings
✦ aria coded: Random stuff that resonated with me
✦ aria answers: For all sorts of asks
✦ aria’s musings: My own posts
✦ aria thinks about “the character” : It can be about anyone, really
✦ — a star that found its home: All things Xavier-related
✦ — a soft exhale upon snow: All things Zayne-related
✦ — a dance amidst the whirlpool: All things Rafayel-related
✦ — one who sits atop the mere: All things Sylus-related
✦ — a hand raised to the sky: All things Caleb-related
✦ — a cry from the woods: All things Valko-related (sad)
Do you ever regret anything you have ever done? Do you stay awake late at night wondering how your life would be had you not done it?
What, am I supposed to regret things forever? No thanks, I'm different now. The old me is not the same me. We must move. The world won't oyster itself.
every once in a while I remember that there are people who came to AO3 from video game fandoms, where they were set up to think "rated E for everyone" - except on AO3 it's
i wonder how the tsaritsa feels (felt) about raiden, an archon who cast her child (whether or not she thought of him as such) aside by choice. i wonder how wanderer felt signing up to serve an archon who loved her son so much she decided to fight god when he was taken from her
"Some ailments cannot be cured by goodwill alone — we all know that, living on this land as we do. But his passion really can melt the snow that has settled in people's hearts."
— Odette
◆ Name: Alyosha
◆ Title: Swift-Striding Hound
◆ Winter Hunter
◆ Vision: Electro
◆ Constellation: Canis Borzoides
Ask anyone in Sretomorozsk about Alyosha, and you'll find most folk are more than happy to share a few stories about the lad:
"He's an exceptional hunter. Got a nose as keen as any of his hounds! And he can actually track down rabbits in this miserable weather."
"More than that! If you ever saw him raise that rifle of his, you'd swear he belonged to the Armory Palace."
"Oh, pull the other one! Why on earth would someone from the Armory Palace live all the way out here? Just think of the distance..."
"I'm not making it up! I literally watched him pull someone right out of a monster's clutches. BOOM! Before I could even cover my ears, the beast staggered and crashed to the ground..."
By all accounts, everyone agrees he's a fine lad: earnest, brave, and kindhearted...
But wait. You haven't forgotten how merciless Snezhnaya's snowfields can be, have you?
One walk into the frost is all it takes to understand how precious warmth truly is. The wind is cruel, a file grinding down everything it touches. The boundless snow pours out its unyielding malice upon the world, and worse still, it demands the heat and very lives of the living as payment for crossing it.
If there were any other way, no one would choose to stay in this freezing hell.
But Alyosha steps into the freezing wild time and time again, staking his life to bring home food, and to bring home hope.
He raises his rifle, pointing it at the prey in front of him.
Though his true enemy will always be the bitter frost itself.
"She dances and dances... The gazes and hearts of all follow her every graceful motion, only to fall as the curtain draws closed ♪~
"But Odette, oh Odette, Odette of Snezhnograd, Odette of the Korolevskiy Troupe, Odette who belongs not to herself ♪~
"Does your heart yearn to be the center of attention, or to dance alone on the snowy plains? ♪~"
— A song drifting from Vodyanitsa's room
◆ Name: Odette
◆ Title: Swirling Snow
◆ Prima Ballerina of the Korolevskiy Troupe
◆ Stellar Linchpin: Cryo
◆ Constellation: Cygnus Olor
In Snezhnaya, the land of frost and ice, it often takes quite a bit of persuasion to get someone to go to the opera house or theater. On bitterly cold days, most would rather stay by the hearth than traipse across the snow just to catch a performance.
Many, however, make an exception for Odette's ballet performances.
Whenever her name appears on a show publicity poster, the lines start forming at the ticket window. Those standing patiently in line are not there because of her sweet smile, for she almost never smiles at the audience. Nor are they drawn by any warmth in her manner — once the curtain falls, she does not remain onstage for even a second longer. Instead, they have come for the dance performance itself. The instant Odette rises to the tips of her toes, even Snezhnaya's howling winds seem to fall still. Every step she takes is so precise, it takes the breath away from everyone in the theater. To her fans, that cold demeanor of hers only makes her more alluring.
This young lady who has captivated so many onstage is also a member of the Fatui.
Her days are divided between the troupe and the Fatui. Her dance practices begin in the early morning, while her training with the Fatui usually stretches late into the night. Her own practices and urgent missions fill whatever time that remains. In the practice room, she stretches to her limits before rising into dance. At the training grounds, she swiftly moves on to her next task after bringing down her opponents. Day after day, she continues like the dancer of a music box, turning without end, as though she never tires, as though she never needs rest.
A friend once asked her, "Don't you ever get tired, going back and forth like that between ballet performances and the Fatui?"
Odette cocked her head in response, seemingly in thought. Then she gave her answer, one that could not be any plainer: "But I'm already used to it."
whenever you share a serving of fries with xavier, he never eats the smaller, crunchier ones. he passes them to you instead, and you take them, munching on them happily. you enjoy feeling the crunch when you bite down on them, and they're always more flavorful. you always wonder why he doesn't like them, but you never get around to asking. one night, when you order takeout for dinner, he gets himself some fries with his meal, and he offers to share with you, but you decline - you're not really feeling like fries that evening. you notice that he's not sectioning out his fries like he usually does - he just eats them all indiscriminately, including the small, crunchy ones.
"hey, i thought you didn't like the crunchy ones."
xavier blinks at you. "huh? i do. i like them a lot."
you frown. "then why do you pawn them off to me every time we share fries?"
he grins at you. "because i know you love them. and as much as i like them too, i like seeing you enjoy them more."
The winter nights have begun. After a chaotic time handling the magnetic disruptions, you find yourself whisked away by Xavier for a little late-night date. Your destination is the snow-capped mountains whose shadows stretch over Linkon City. The sole purpose: to gaze at the constellation of Gemini. Now, you are stuck in a tent that doesn’t deserve its high rating, once again entertaining thoughts that you really hope won’t sour your little hangout.
✦ Pairing: Xavier x reader
✦ Tags/genre: 2.8k words, sfw, fluff, comfort, established relationship, reader is the main character, existential crisis, takes place after “to our yesterday” storylines, stargazing, references to greek mythology and astrology (zodiac signs), xavier’s suppressor mentioned, reader feels scared for xavier, xavier is a big nerd and reader adores him for that, both of you are so in love with each other!
If you’d prefer to read on AO3, here is the link.
✦ Writing is my hobby, not my job. I write for my own joy and share for connection. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, but please keep them kind and supportive as I’m not looking for constructive criticism or feedback. Thank you for understanding! ✦
Up in the snowy mountains, the usual bustle of Linkon City isn’t that prominent; the faraway sounds of the cityscape are but a wisp of life in the quiet night. This was perhaps one of the reasons why Xavier brought you here tonight, the other being the date that had long been pending for both of you.
After all the chaos with Soren and the backtrackers, both of you knew a much-needed break was in order. As soon as the incident concluded, Jenna miraculously granted you a pardon from your duties for two weeks. Knowing Xavier, he was not going to let this unexpected yet wondrous vacation go to waste (even if all you wanted was to remain as snug as a bug in your bed).
It’s a small tent you are settled in, one you still lament despite the amazing view it offers of the star-lit sky. Perfect for stargazing, as Xavier exclaimed before placing the order a few days ago. But do its high ratings even matter when the tent does absolutely nothing to shield against the low temperatures? You wonder if it was all Xavier’s scheme: to get you all frost-ridden and have you snuggling next to him for relief. Sigh...
You turn to your left to look at Xavier. He sits beside you calmly, his hands patient as he holds a blanket in his lap, waiting.
“Would you like it, my star?”
You do feel slightly cold, you realize, as a chill slowly settles in your limbs. The embrace of young December is far more inhuman than it was last year. Little snowflakes stick to the outside of the tent. They melt quickly, their presence but a fleeting beauty among the other winter scenes.
You don’t know what to make of it: the cold, the snow, the year that is soon approaching its end. What did it imply for you and him — an end that was a beginning in and of itself? You have tried to look past the question, tried to make peace with the perpetuity of life. But no matter how much you ponder or look for justifications, there always lies a slight uncertainty in you.
Consciously, you repress the dread day by day, letting it drown among simple and comfortable moments. In the end, you only muster up the courage to ask Xavier to let you in on the secrets of the cosmos and all that jazz. Because despite yourself, he had become the only steady presence that remains in your otherwise rocky life — him and his endeavors that you have come to adore.
Perhaps that’s why you have also come to dread him as well, more so the day when Xavier too will eventually leave you. Perpetuity of life, you think.
A curse disguised as a blessing.
Several minutes pass with you twiddling your fingers, your mind stuck in a haze. Xavier doesn’t rush you, nor do the stars above as they softly look over the two of you. Only when he deems you lost in your daydreams for far too long does he tap on your thigh. Once, twice, until you are back in his orbit. And you return to him, slowly, eyes immediately meeting his.
Sheepishly, you admit, “Yeah, I guess...”
Your voice comes out like a cold-tinged bellow. It quivers slightly, your breath fogging up in the sub-zero air despite the warmth Xavier has been lending you for the past ten minutes. You ignore that it hinted at your discomfort, but you know your partner has already caught on. His hands grip the blanket ever so slightly; the tension in his muscles might have been mistaken for something else, but not by you — not by him.
Trying to appear indifferent, you pull on the thick, fluffy blanket, not noticing the way Xavier’s eyes turn into little crescents.
“My star…” he breathes out.
Amusement flickers in his features, while his snort barely does anything to stop you. His hands begin to wrestle with yours, both of you knowing the winner was already determined the moment this little game started. Always caught up in your little tricks...
Regardless, he lets you have your way with him anyway. That’s what it would look like to an outsider. Deep down, you know (he knows) he’s only framing it as such because in the end, Xavier will always get what he wants, even if he pouts while feigning disappointment.
It’s all the more evident right now, judging by the way his lips twitch (you know it is definitely not because of the 12 a.m. cold). He’s got you all wrapped up in the blanket and shielded from the merciless cold of your own accord — all according to his devious plan.
Well played, Xavier. Well played. Huff! You jab at his chest, which only beckons him closer. “You should have put on the jacket too,” he whispers lowly, making sure to drape the blanket fully over your back. “The sweater alone isn’t cutting it…”
You sit smugly, letting him do all the work while indulging in a win that wasn’t hard-fought at all. If anything, it’s more pathetic... but you beg to differ. He pats down your sides all the while reminiscing about your past mistakes. “You get cold easily, remember?”
The last time it happened, it was simply because of the mid-autumn rain. An inopportune walk that rendered you soaking wet and sick for days to come. Everything else seemed unimportant to him the moment you stepped foot inside the apartment: dripping wet, a sneeze announcing your welcome back. Soon, he was carrying you to the shower, already ridding you of your drenched clothes. After showering, he kept you tied to your bed (metaphorically) with a towel on your forehead and his hand on your belly.
Your demands to be free would only be met with more pressure in his belly rubs. And when his pressure refused to let up, you had no choice but to retreat behind the darkness of your eyelids, your questions faltering just like the cold that was shooed away with each of his rubs.
How do you even begin to tell him that it wasn’t your fault your evening walk got interrupted by a sudden downpour?
Xavier didn’t listen that time, and you don’t expect him to now either.
“I am fineee.” You pinch his hand where it rests on the blanket before intertwining your fingers. A smile soon graces your lips — one more timid than usual — and you squeeze his hand. “Don’t rack your brain too much, okay?”
You came to stargaze, after all, not to chew away at every single worry.
But Xavier doesn’t care.
“No, you are not. See...” He presses back. His other hand rises to your face before his thumb caresses your earlobe. His warmth slowly awakens the dormant nerves, only then letting you realize just how numb your skin had become.
“Red…” he mutters, cataloging your reddened skin somewhere in his brain. The gentle touch pulls away from your ear and lands on your cheek next, as if making another point. Numb again. This time, you can’t even feel him nor his warmth properly.
Why is it stinging too?
You wince when a frown quickly banishes the joy that was beginning to bloom on his face. His hand retreats the moment he feels you flinch. He murmurs, just as you turn away from him, “All cold... You are going to get frostbite at this rate.”
“Welp! You gave me the blanket, so there’s that...” You side-eye him, making sure to keep the blanket secure around your body. It’s beginning to work, you’d like to think. The warmth its fur traps is but for a mere moment before you once again feel the cold creep in through the stitching. But it’s enough… You try again. “Relax…”
Xavier pauses. However, he doesn’t shift back to his seat. “That won’t be enough,” he retaliates, somehow aware of your thoughts.
“Huh?” And he’s pulling you into his chest, his arms tight around you. A fresh scent makes itself known; although faint, you know it’s emitting from him: flowery detergent pervaded with a musk of his own.
“There…” You feel him nuzzle the top of your head, his hands coming under your sweater to rest on your waist. Warm is his caress, holding the same feeling sprouting in your heart. He pecks the tip of your ear, already brimming with mirth. “You won’t be cold for long now.”
Why is he like this?
You melt against him, your own arms quickly finding purchase around his back. His breath fans the top of your head. “Much better than the blanket, no?” He chuckles as hearty as him.
“As if...” Your eyes begin to drop, but he doesn’t let sleep cradle you yet. When the last of your redness disappears, Xavier maneuvers the both of you to lay on the sleeping bag. He tucks one lone strand behind your ear, before nodding up toward the blackened sky, eyes reflecting your sleepy face. He smiles.
“Don’t fall asleep yet… the stars will get upset.” A nudge from his nose against your cheek, inviting you to follow his line of sight.
Overhead, the sky appears like a painting through the transparent plastic of the tent; its black canvas almost like a home for the constellations Xavier has spoken much about. The edges of this little window to the starry cosmos are, however, blurred by the condensation; you can barely make out where the constellations begin or end.
A pity. You scoff, grasping Xavier’s hand, already on the verge of sleep. “I can’t even see it properly…” The constellation of the zodiac, Gemini, the reason why you are here tonight. Your untrained eye can’t differentiate between the plethora of twinkling lights anyway. How will you find it in the first place?
Before you can fully surrender to sleep, you feel Xavier poke your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, immediately zeroing in on his smile. You push back at his finger. “Sleepy…”
“I know. I know…” Another chuckle as he guides your head onto his chest. His forefinger lifts, and he assures, “Here, I will help. Just follow my finger.”
You try to focus on where the tip of his finger points. It drifts eastward slowly before drawing an imaginary V shape.
“Start with the twin stars: Castor and Pollux. One mortal and the other immortal.”
With Xavier’s lead, you find them in no time. The twin stars, bright as ever, their stories penned on the celestial itself. “The patrons of sailors, the Anakes, the Castores…” His words drift off as his finger flickers between the two of them. He tells you the other names of the star twins before continuing to find the other stars in the constellation.
“Now onto Orion’s Belt.” Xavier whispers against your head. Soon, you are mapping the three stars of the belt: Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. With each name, the full picture of the constellation becomes clearer. You feel his arm curl around your back, holding you close against him. “There it is — the two stick figures. Do you see them?”
You nod. “They are holding hands.”
“Indeed they are.” Xavier laughs languidly. “The left one looks like it’s leading the right. Doesn’t it?” He concludes and goes quiet.
The twin stars remain winking in the sky, their joined stick figures refusing to part from your mind. Your understanding of their myth is limited. All you know is the ending sequence — a grief-stricken brother pleading with the king of gods to share his immortality with his deceased brother.
Pollux chose to share his immortality with Castor. The brothers are together once more. But what will happen when the one you love chooses to stay — and it is you that cannot promise the forever they haggled for? Unable to quiet the turmoil, you pat his chest insistently until he hums back. “Xavier, what about us? What about… you?”
The questions drift in the air. The slow rise of his chest stops momentarily. You know he’s thinking of the correct response. His eyes remain on the sky, the glimmering stars shining in its blue. Unblinking, he whispers, “What about us? Or me?”
“Would you even be…” You pause, struggling to find the right words beyond your anxiety. Your hands shake as you clutch his sweater. “Here… tomorrow, a week from now, months?” The words spill from your lips.
“Is this about the suppressor?” His question comes quick, already tackling the root.
“Pollux had something he could bargain — his immortality.” You ignore him, anxiety clamping onto your body wholly. “I can’t just bargain something I don’t even have in the first place, now can I?”
And then, the first waves of grief release over you. The dread inside you had always been grief, you realize suddenly. It was grief for what you are not. You wish you could be stronger, wiser, maybe then you would have a chance to defend him, shield him from anything that dares to come his way.
Because all this time, Xavier is the one who has done the most, traveled through time and space, gone beyond reality, all in the search of you. Is that not unfair to him? How will you repay him a mere fraction of his dedication, his reverence for everything he holds dear, when you are stuck and bound to a fate that isn’t merciful in the slightest? Doesn’t Xavier deserve better than this?
Than you?
Xavier sits up alongside you as soon as he notices you crying. “My star—”
“What if something happens? How could I possibly save you then? How will I?”
“Hey…” His hands reach up to your cheeks, swiping away at the tears pooling out of your eyes. “Will you listen to me, please?”
“I am s-sorry, I ruined this—” A hiccup swallows your apology.
“No, no. Never.” Xavier pleads.
You are back in his arms, a déjà vu striking you. This time you don’t find the strength to reciprocate the hug. And it hurts, because you can’t even give him this tiny bit of affection, when he and you needed it the most. “I am sorry, Xavier.” The most you say. Your lips quiver as you attempt to push down your sobs.
“What if I told you,” something warm touches your forehead. You look up just as his lips descend on your wet cheek, a small peck. His eyes are just as warm, slightly crinkled at the edges. “That there is nothing you have to do.”
“Xavier? What do you mean?”
He shakes his head and pulls you into him once again. “Everything I have done is because I had to.” He pauses. You can almost taste his own grief. His hand smooths down your back as he picks up his words. “Whether I… or my heart wants it or not.”
“We talked about this. You don’t have to ignore what your heart wants—” You don’t get to complete your sentence as Xavier cuts you off.
“And that’s why I will not anymore. Right now, it’s asking you to just stay here with me, no matter what happens, no matter what time reveals. That’s all I want — for you to be free, to do what you want. That’s enough for me. Forever.”
“But I just can’t sit idly and watch you die…” You look at your lap instead. His gaze is too intense; you fear you would utter something you won’t be able to take back. “I can’t.”
“Who said I’m dying?” Xavier pouts, his hand cupping your jaw to make you look at him. “I am not that fragile, you know? I feel offended… you have to pay for this now.”
Another peck, this time on your lips. The kiss is short-lived, and you don’t get to hold onto it for long. His forehead rests against yours, his words trembling as Xavier insists, “Fight with me, if you must, but don’t leave me. Don’t run away from me.”
“I won’t. I won’t ever.”
Xavier is a fool for even thinking you would.
It is the next morning when you wake up. Smothered in a blanket and his arms around you, you don’t feel so cold anymore. Looking up, you no longer see the dawn sky through the transparent plastic, but something white.
…? What is it?
“It must have snowed last night…” Xavier yawns beside you, also beginning to wake up. His arms tighten their hold on you as he nuzzles against your neck. “I am surprised the tent didn’t collapse from the weight…” You feel his lips curl on your skin.
This cheeky bastard.
“Hey!”
“You can’t deny my financial choices are improving.”
You can’t help but sigh. Alrighttt. It’s fair, you suppose. The tent does deserve its high rating after all.
“Let’s stay for a few more minutes.” You ask him as your eyes fall shut.
“Of course, my star…”
Your vacation hasn’t ended yet anyway.
✦ From the Author: Hi! Hello! First writing here! I don’t know what else to say, but I hope this little thing brought some solace, especially during upsetting times like these. Regardless of what happens to the game and whether Valko will return or not, let’s all hope for a better tomorrow anyway. Please take care, and reach out for help if you must. Aria out. 🩷
I say this as both an author and someone who has been in fandom for a long time (15+ years): I do not trust the AO3 'Claude AI detector' skin. In fact, I will never trust any future "proof of AI" tools. Why? Because it's impossible to 100% know if someone used AI in any capacity.
I am anti-genAI, especially in creative fandom spaces, but I'm even bigger against witch hunts and harassment. Because that's all what this "exposed authors" document list (and future lists) is going to do. It doesn't matter if there's a big disclaimer about NOT attacking the people listed. The internet will do what the internet does nowadays and backstab anyone they deem unworthy, especially toward ones that they've been given the greenlight to attack.
The obsession and paranoia about wanting to make sure that every single fandom creation is not made with AI is, quite frankly, getting out of fucking hand. No, I don't want to read AI works. But I don't have enough time in the day or much less the ability to care about checking. If I suspect something is amiss, I'll just do the fandom of old: Don't Like, Don't Read. Don't Like? Don't Engage. Hit the back button.
No one owes anything to anyone. No photo proof. No video proof. No screenshots or anything else.
Lastly: Instead of calling out authors who might be using AI to help them create, why not encourage the use of non-AI resources? Writers Helping Writers. An old fashioned thesaurus. Word Hippo. And so much more that is out there, which some people may not even be aware about.
you: Oh no I can't write this, my writing is too generic and derivative, it's all just a copy of a copy of a copy with nothing original or unique to it. I suck and I have no original touch.
also you: Oh no I can't write this, my writing is too self-indulgent and tailored to only please my own specific preferences and interests. It's too weird and perverse and nobody else writes weird shit like this. I suck and I must be more normal.
JULY POETRY PROMPTS ··· a collection of poetry prompts steeped in July’s golden delirium, where love ripens too quickly, the afternoons drip like honey, and every heart learns to bloom beneath the ache of heat.
1. love found me where the garden met gin
2. our romance: rare print, sun-damaged, and worth everything
3. orange peel & epilogues
4. you came with champagne and a warning
5. in another life, I stayed for the second glass
6. laced in linen, I learned to feel again
7. aperol and afterthoughts
8. you were the fiction I wanted to believe in
9. a novel’s worth of glances in one long dinner
10. limoncello and longing
11. midnights scented like citrus & you
12. we lived like a Fitzgerald draft
13. I was too loud for their lawns and too lovely to leave
14. madness looks good in white linen and pearls
15. they wrote me off before they read me
16. holiday house never stood a chance
17. happiness was found in the condensation of your glass
18. somewhere between verse and vermouth
19. I am not your almost—I am your always
20. you love me like I’m the story you've always known
21. I stopped writing about you the day I truly felt happy and loved
22. you are not a villain in my story — you are a footnote
23. I am too in love with my now to mourn my then
24. I’m in my iced rosé and soft linen era
25. I’m sun-warmed, barefoot, and finally whole
26. a list poem: all the ways I chose warmth instead
27. love notes hidden between the pages of a hardbound first edition
28. honey, saltwater, and champagne
29. I dream in grainy polaroids and your july laugh
30. july ended, but the epilogue smells like you
