#perfect snarky croissant

[spaceyjessa]

>//////< ohmygosh Eobe he is so gorgeous....I'm in love I can't stop staring at him >//////< sniper husband looks so amazing in your art style and now I'm not going to be able to function AT ALL today. My mind will only be on snarky croissant <3 (Also love love your speedpaint so much, it reminds me of my process actually xp I take so many notes and it looks so chaotic but it's so fun :>)

Dank farrik 🙈 I tried to make a face by template concepting video à la Eobe and it turned out fun chaos so I have to show it! 😂🙏✨

I picked Crosshair, because he‘s got the most uncommon clone face shape in my opinion and because he got to few friendly attention from my side in the last time (only fun attention, poor kitty Croissant actually not sorry) AND OF COURSE he jinxed it ����💀

While drawing I collected my thoughts, fails and drawing frustrations and I drew little funny extras so that it‘s possible to read decipher the notes despite the rush of the timelapse 😀 And I already thought yeah, this is getting a messy thing… 👀

… AND THEN my screen bugged and crashed my brush!! 😱😂 Aaahh sweet chaos! But great, I go for it, let’s look how far I get before my drawing device starts burning or something 🤷🏽‍♀️

Is making ‚Fun drawing process à la Eobe‘ a thing? 👀 I giggled and definitely had fun like a child playing and hope you have fun with my weird and quite ADHD coded timelapse too! 😂 And also I hope besides fun, it’s maybe a bit inspiring to try out (what was the original intention before I noticed that it’s getting chaotic 😅)

The result is super messy speedy hatched Crosshair! And I kind of like it! It’s hiv vibe 🤷🏽‍♀️ So have a look:

The finished colored Crosshair get‘s his own posting, grumpy sniper deserves it and a hug 🖤✨I think he wrote the ALT text

Vod, vor entye for giving me the push to do this and sharing @wings-and-beskargam 💙✨🫶 This is the way!

Nix, here it is, have a ☕️ to that dry 🥐✨ @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

Taglist: @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @justanotherdikutsimp @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @morerandombullshit

[piratefalls]

i don't have a snarky opening line this week. have fic instead.

masterlist.

(make me) misbehave by r_holland

Alex Claremont-Diaz has done it again. The Texas-born singer-songwriter released his fourth studio album second skin Thursday at midnight. Full of Claremont-Diaz’s signature lyricism, critics are praising the album for the cohesive image it paints. second skin is the result of a young writer at the top of his game, and every lyric depicts for the listener a picture of a sun-drenched secret romance. Fans are clamoring to be the first to uncover the mystery girl at the center of it all, although Claremont-Diaz remains tight-lipped on the subject… -- Or: Alex Claremont-Diaz is a singer-songwriter rising up in the music industry. Henry Fox is the shining star of an acting empire. This is a love story.

NFWMB by cricketnationrise

5 Times Alex Fights Customer Service for Henry + 1 Time He Doesn't Have To

falling in love (in the cruelest way) by coffeecatsme

“Alex?” The name makes Alex stop halfway to the register and look back. Henry is standing in the same spot, shifting from foot to foot, before he juts his chin out. He meets Alex’s eyes. “Where are you traveling to?” Or, Alex picks up a stranger on a road trip, only to realize too late he's the missing Prince of Wales.

We've Got To Stop Meeting like This by everwitch

Alex books an Airbnb studio with a shared bathroom. The other studio is occupied by a man with lush pink lips and impressive personal hygiene — really, he’s super diligent about lathering and rinsing. Alex would know, seeing as the lock to the bathroom is seriously unreliable. Or: the Airbnb romp you didn’t know you needed.

quad shot americano by saintlynomenclature

Like always, Henry’s made it perfectly—the espresso is rich, decidedly not burnt, and the cinnamon tastes like it’s been infused rather than sprinkled in. “How the fuck do you do this?” Alex demands, taking another sip as Henry laughs at him. “If I tell you, you won’t come back.” Henry smiles, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. Alex lets his eyes follow the line of Henry’s shoulders, falling down to the veins in his forearms after the ends of his bunched-up sleeves. The ring on Henry’s left pinky doesn’t reflect in the lowlight of the back corner—without the sun glinting off of it, Alex can finally see that the surface of it is engraved. “If you think coffee's the only thing keeping me around, sweetheart, then I need to try harder.” The blush coats Henry’s cheeks again. He dips his head bashfully, eyes skating away from Alex’s face. “Whatever will I do with you?” he murmurs under his breath.

- Or, Alex spends an exorbitant amount of money on coffee.

Not So Silent Night by inexplicablymine

Sure, Alex can admit in the deepest recesses of his mind, at two in the morning, when the Liszt is playing forlornly like some kind of bugle call for grief, that whoever the fuck lives next to him is on another level with the keys. Or Alex has no idea who his piano playing neighbor is, but Alex knows one thing for certain… This means war.

Airplane Mode by clottedcreamfudge

Getting into an argument with someone in the airport lounge had probably been a mistake, in hindsight; Alex knows this. But with so many fucking delays and the fact that the signal on his phone is currently making it about as useful as two paper cups joined by a piece of string, he’s kind of on-edge. It’s not entirely his fault that he snaps. Attractive people with perfect hair who take the last almond croissant before Alex can get to it probably just need to understand this. Alex is at the end of his tether, and he will not be swayed by, “Well, I was here first,” in a British accent so smooth it could butter bread.

something more, something right by rizcriz

Alex blinks at him, seemingly entirely unimpressed. “So, you’re just going to pretend we’re not in love with each other?” 

here the whole time by HypnosTheory

Alex frowns, massaging Henry’s scalp. “It feels like you’re getting headaches more often babe. Anything wrong?” “It’s nothing,” Henry says, melting under Alex’s fingers on his scalp. “My suppressants are just killing my head. Think I’ve been taking them too long, I probably need a break soon.” Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you could get off them for good.” -- Married and bonded, Henry and Alex decide it's about time to get off suppressants and start enjoying their bond fully.

Of Who I Am (Golden) by MayQueen517

There's magic and Henry is hiding something. Alex is determined to figure it out at all costs.

Dependence is a Childhood Illness by aubsoluteaudacity

As he stands by the counter and waits for the kettle to boil, Henry goes over his illness management tactics in his head. Drink lots of tea and water. Take more medication whenever he reasonably can. Never, ever, let anyone see how sick he is. He has been following this mantra since his late teens. Royalty isn’t allowed to miss an event because of a cold. It simply isn’t done to stay in bed when there are hands to press and ribbons to cut.

pictures of you (pictures of me) by yeolocity

alex keeps polaroids.

If You Love Something by allmylovesatonce

Alex calls Henry to tell him a funny incident from his day. When a miscommunication sends them both reeling, both of them are questioning if the other is wanting to end their relationship. Their friends take things upon themselves to get them to see eye to eye.

An Amateur's Guide to Piping That Cream and Beating That Meat by firenati0n

Alex invites Henry to his Extremely Specific and Ethnic Friendsgiving dinner, issuing a stern warning—no beige foods and no colonizer behavior. So basically, Henry's screwed. In an effort to find the perfect recipe, Henry stumbles upon a popular TikTok chef who thirst traps from the neck down and flusters Henry to his core. But his food is banging, along with the bod. A recipe for feral disaster. Or, Alex is an anonymous thirst-trapping chef on TikTok. Henry is an amateur cook who needs a recipe for Friendsgiving. Alex knows Henry's watching. Henry doesn't know it's Alex. Shenanigans ensue.

it's midnight in Texas by viciouslyqueer

When Henry mentions a charity polo match in Connecticut, Alex doesn’t think much of it. When Henry asks him on a date and puts him on a plane to Paris, Alex smiles and lets himself be romanced. When Henry says he wants to do it right, Alex is too in love to protest.

we should get married by smc_27

He’d spent most of the week sitting on the floor with his laptop open on the table, typing away about absolute nonsense in between sessions and phone calls with immigration and a lawyer trying to see if it’s possible there’s any way in the world he can stay in America while this gets sorted. The good news is this doesn’t bar him from trying again and just returning when it all gets sorted. Not that that will be easy, but still. It’s a possibility. He makes the absolutely foolish mistake, after pouring his second drink, of googling ‘marriage visa’ as if that will be the answer to any or all of his problems. Allows himself a brief, excruciating moment to imagine he has someone to marry and make that a reality. But then…he does, does he not? OR, a greencard marriage AU

i need that charles dickens by @whimsymanaged

Henry’s flatmate (and crush) Alex is suddenly obsessed with Charles Dickens. But when Henry asks to borrow Alex’s Dickens, he quickly learns that Alex hasn’t, in fact, been talking about a book.

Amazed at How We Talk (Once, Successfully) by @sparklepocalypse

And, well. Fuck that guy. Alex isn’t about to rub elbows with people who can’t even stand to be in the same room as him. Alex isn’t sulking when he sidles up to the bar and steals a man’s whisky. He also isn’t sulking when he obtains a second glass, this one neat. Or when he snags a large plate of canapés from one of the waitstaff and nonchalantly strolls out of the room. (Movieverse; a riff on the trope that asks, What if Cakegate didn't happen?)

like a bridge over troubled water, i will ease your mind by anincompletelist

And then— relief. So palpable that it sends more tears springing to his eyes, a sob at his lips that Henry quiets with a kiss. Everything from the past week was so much, had been building up pretty much from the moment Henry first left, and leaving him teetering on the edge of fine and definitively, very much not fine, one more useless appearance or shitty headline away from breaking into a million pieces. And shatter he had. But somehow, by some miracle, he’d been able to wait until Henry was here, was back with him in their home, to do it. His safety net, his safe place, his everything; the only one capable of holding all of his broken shards and figuring out how to piece them all back together again in the aftermath. The only one who has asked for the privilege of being there to do it.

Truth by cmere

Alex always does this, hauls every base fucking instinct that Henry has out into the open between them, plain for both to see. And every time it happens, Henry expects him to laugh it off or give him a hard time, but instead he just encourages it with soft, pliant lips and greedy fingers until Henry gives in to himself and his desires. Alex has never made him feel bad, or odd, or disgusting, always treats him with the utmost patience and care. Henry loves him so fucking much. It's just past midnight on Alex's birthday and he's going to get what he wants. Which is, of course, to give Henry what he wants.

as always, if you want me to tag you in future lists just let me know!

@starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp

[sarcastich]

read it on ao3!

Little Things

Peter woke up to the soft sound of the ocean coming from his alarm, at exactly 8 am, like any other morning. He got up and shuffled over to his ridiculously large closet in his even more ridiculously large bedroom suite -courtesy of Tony Stark to all the Avengers- with a yawn.

He picked his outfit for the day, an oversized pastel yellow sweatshirt with a cartoon bee on it, and baby blue scuffed jeans.

Peter walked over to his door and opened it, poking his head out to see if anyone else was around, but he was only greeted to an empty hallway. Leaving the door open, he headed back inside his room to finish getting ready.

He liked doing that; Having his door wide open. He knew that everyone there had gone through a hard time and well.. If anyone ever needed to talk, they’d all know his door is open to them. Literally.

He stepped out of his room ten minutes later, now with a pair of matching bee long-socks and headphones in.

Walking down the hallway, mouthing the words to his song and nodding along to the beat, he bumps into Tony, “Whoa there, kid”, he holds Peter by his shoulders, raising his eyebrows.

Peter pulls out an earbud, wincing. “Sorry Mr. Stark!”- An ad decides to blare out right that second, sounding a lot louder than his music.

Tony chuckles and crosses his arms across his chest. “C’mon, I told you to stop calling me that, Pete.”

“Right, right sorry, Tony”, He smiles and points his thumb down the hallway. “Breakfast?”

Tony shrugs and shakes his head, “Oh, I’ll just have Dum-E bring me some coffee or something.”

Peter pouts and crosses his arms like him, “You never have breakfast with the rest of us, c’mon grouchy pants, be a bit more passionate, spend some time with us-“, Peter kept going on about reasons why he should join the everyone for more meals, and Tony joined in, talking over him, “-what do you mean, be more passionate, you all live in my building, this is so insulting-“, rolling his eyes and following Peter -Not that he had much of a choice, since somewhere along his rant Peter had started tugging on Tony’s sleeve and pulling him down the hallway.

They walked into the kitchen, where Clint was leaning over the counter, checking his phone, a croissant and a mug of something hot in front of him. “Hey Clint!”, Peter chirped. The only acknowledgement he got from Barton was a single wave, and a mumble, his eyes never leaving his phone.

Steve was sitting next to Bucky on a wide couch in the open room on the other side of the kitchen counter –which was more than often used as a dining room-, a discarded newspaper beside them as Bucky pointed to something on an IPad Steve was holding, showing him how he could surf news websites instead of “-reading newspapers like a boring old man.” “Hey-!”

Bruce Banner and the Widow were nowhere to be seen.

Peter let go of Tony’s arm, his headphones forgotten around his neck, and started pulling out containers of pre-cut fruit as Tony poured out two mugs of coffee. He handed Peter one and they both sat at the other end of the counter, giving Clint some space.

Peter scrunched his nose up at his coffee and got back up, returning with a mug that was more milk and ice than coffee. Tony gave him a poker-faced look. “Oh I’m sorry, but some of us don’t like things that taste like drywall.” “Excuse me-” “You’ve been excused, now eat.”, he nudged a small bowl of berries towards Tony.

Tony looked at Peter, hand on his chest, “The audacity-”, he popped a blueberry into his mouth and his face morphed into something of happiness. “I’ve haven’t had these in so long-”, “Yeah I bet”, Peter snorted and took a sip of his coffee, (If you could call it that) and put one of his headphones back in.

An entire bowl of berries and four Spotify ads later, Tony left for the workshop, with a snarky remark and a genuine word of thanks from Peter.

Three hours later, in the middle of his workout session, a notification on Peter’s phone let him know the details about his new Spotify premium account. With a small smile and a roll of his eyes, he stepped off the treadmill that had slowed to walking speed, and patted his forehead with a soft towel.

Pulling a grey hoodie on, he fast-walked to the kitchen and pulled out a bowl of small, cut carrots from the fridge and made his way to Tony’s workshop, knowing he’d probably still be there. He and Dr. Banner were two of the very few people who had access to this room. “Knock knock”, he announced his presence in a singsong voice, thought he knew that F.R.I.D.A.Y had probably let Mr. Stark know that he’d be coming. “Hey kid”. Peter walked across the many parts and mechanical tidbits strewn across the floor and made his way to the table Tony was sitting behind.

“I come bearing gifts-”, he said as he set the carrots down on Tony’s table, -“And thanks. Seriously, I know we can’t stop you from spending money on us, but Spotify premium?” “What, the ads were annoying-” “You didn’t hear me talking, but you heard the ads-”, “Oh it’s just some silly little app anyway”, Tony replied, crunching down on a carrot piece. Peter sighed, walked around the table, and gave Tony a one-armed hug around the shoulders since he was still sitting down. “Thanks, Tony.” “Yeah yeah, get off me, kid.”, he grumbled and pat Peter’s arm, a smile growing on his face.

The rest of the day, every time Tony would finish his fruit, a new plate of snacks would show up less than fifteen minutes later, with no sign of the boy himself.

~

Six months later, just as Peter was dosing off in Tony’s their bed, in Tony’s their bedroom, he finally got to find out what his “super-secret project, no you cannot help me, and no one can know what it is”, project was.

Tony dramatically entered the room, startling Peter out of his half-asleep state, waving something around, “Oh my God, Peter, it’s finally over, Pete, old ladies do this as a hobby, a hobby, I tell you”,- rolling his eyes and dropping onto the bed. “Christ Tones, what’re you on about?”

Tony holds out what he was holding. Peter’s expression of confusion and slight annoyance instantly turns into one of adoration. “Tony-”, “No, okay I know it isn’t perfect, but you were really upset when I spoilt your bee sweater,” –He said with a smirk- “And I wanted to make you something anyway- hey hang on, why’re you crying, baby, oh n-”, Peter cut him off with a big kiss, and snatches the newly knit sweater from tony. It was a soft peach color, and had two little knit bees in front. It fit him perfectly, a little bigger than his own size, but that was Peter saw as his perfect size anyway.

He wore the sweater for four days straight before Tony made him take it off to shower.

[worldwidemochiguy]

➵ For your first date, Jungkook wants to take you somewhere perfect. Unfortunately for you, he’s decided that for it to be ‘perfect’, it has to be a surprise…

➵ Word Count: 1.7K

➵ a/n: this fic is completely and wholly inspired by that scene in howls moving castle with the meadow… you know the one. also the song loving is easy by rex orange county which i only realised is perfect for this fic when i was trying to think of a title for it. like, the lyrics… the vibe… perfect. if you’re one of those people who listens to songs whilst reading, i recommend that song.

➵ Masterlist

“Are we there yet?” You whine, fiddling impatiently with the blindfold tied around your head. You hear Jungkook chuckle beside you, and jump slightly when he places his hand on top of yours.

“Yes, baby. There’s only about a minute left of the drive, and then a little walk, and we’ll be there.”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t let me see where we’re going.” You grumble quietly, and even though you can’t see Jungkook’s smirk, you can sense its infuriating presence. “Are you taking me somewhere to murder me?”

“Patience, baby.” Jungkook simpers, and you huff, pointedly turning your head away from your boyfriend and looking out the window, despite your inability to see anything past the fabric resting on the bridge of your nose.

Centuries later — or, more realistically, a few minutes — the car brakes to a stop and you hear a door open as Jungkook gets out. You wait for him to walk around the side and open your door for you, which he does, but instead of helping you out, he picks you up instead.

“Jungkook!” You squeal, clutching his jacket and burying your face in what you assume is his neck. His warm skin vibrates with laughter as you curl into him. “You can’t just pick me up with no warning!”

“Everyone likes surprises!” Jungkook replies cheerily, and you whack him on the chest.

“I don’t. Now just put me down so I can take off my blindfold and we can go to wherever you want us to go.”

“Not so fast, baby.” Jungkook says, but he does obligingly put you down. You hear a few footsteps — is that the sound of twigs snapping? — and you guess Jungkook is grabbing something from the car. He comes back towards you, and you prepare for him to take off your blindfold, then-

An inhuman screech passes your lips as Jungkook scoops you onto his shoulder.

“Jungkook!” You yell, arms flailing wildly and smacking into what you guess is his butt. He deserves it, you decide viciously.

“Hold tight, baby!” Jungkook crows, and you wish you weren’t blindfolded so you could aim specifically for his smirk when you punch him. “It’s just a little walk. I promise it’ll be worth it when the blindfold comes off.”

You proceed to complain for the next five minutes as Jungkook carries you along what sounds like a woodland path, judging by the twigs snapping underfoot and the birdsong echoing through the air, and smells like sandalwood and citrus, though that might just be Jungkook’s cologne.

Eventually, Jungkook stops walking. The brittle path of sticks and mud has made way for a soft cushion of grass and the quiet babble of running water. He gently sets you on the ground with strict instructions to not touch your blindfold, and then starts setting up whatever he has planned for the two of you.

It’s harder to hear footsteps on grass, and you end up singing songs in your head to amuse yourself while you wait for Jungkook to take your blindfold off. You’re onto the second verse of Dancing Queen when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Easy does it.” Jungkook murmurs as he guides you to your feet. “It might be a bit bright at first, so make sure to blink a lot.” He tells you as he loosens the tie on the back of your blindfold, and you’re about to deliver a snarky reply about how that was obvious, but then the blindfold falls and your vision fills with white.

Jungkook holds you while your eyes adjust, his arms looped around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. Through a squint, all you can see is a blur of green and blue and pink. But, after blinking a few times, your eyes sharpen.

“Jungkook!” You squeal as you turn in his arms to hug him, all past impatience forgotten. He accepts you happily, swinging you around as you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

It’s a meadow. But of course, Jeon Jungkook doesn’t do anything by halves, and clearly when he takes his girlfriend on a date, he has to take her to the most beautiful meadow in existence.

The clearing stretches as far as the eye can see, rays of sunlight bursting through fluffy clouds beneath an endlessly blue sky, dappled patches of light shining on the rippling streams sewn through the meadow. The ground is blanketed by a thousand different species of wildflowers; poppies and buttercups and rosehips all swaying gently in a floral-scented breeze.

Jungkook has laid down a picnic blanket, red-checkered as all the cliches dictate, with a basket beside it containing all of your favourite pastries, and sweets, and freshly-cut fruit. It’s perfect.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks, and behind the cocky assurance that drips from his every word, there’s an easily detectable undercurrent of self-consciousness.

“Jungkook…” You say, and then you run out of words. What can you say? How can you express how amazing it is? How much you love it? How much you love him?

And then you realise exactly how easy it is to say what you mean.

“I love you.” You tell him honestly. You step away from him as his arms drop, and wander over to the picnic blanket.

The fabric has warmed comfortingly underneath the sun, rubbing against your legs as you pick a slice of strawberry from the basket. You sigh around a mouthful of the sweet fruit as it bursts on your tongue.

“Strawberry?” You offer Jungkook, who hasn’t moved at all. “No? Okay then.” You shrug, popping the rest of it in your mouth.

“Do you want to sit down?”

Jungkook stiffly walks over and sits beside you. You stifle a laugh as his eyes, wide and sparkly as ever, remain fixed on some unseen spot.

“Are you okay?” You ask, biting your lip, and his dinner-plate eyes lurch to you.

“Am I- I’m good. I’m great. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.” You smile, before nonchalantly asking, “So do you love me?”

Jungkook chokes.

If you didn’t already know he loved you, you would be quite upset by his reaction. As it is, you’re content to sit back and watch him panic.

“Do I- I- you know, I had a plan.” Jungkook breaks off suddenly, leaping to his feet and launching into a pacing circuit, “I had a plan, and a- a- I had a plan!” He repeats, distress evident in his tone. You nod understandingly.

Jungkook continues to pace in a tight circle, no thoughts spared to the ruthlessly crushed flowers beneath his feet as he mutters to himself furiously.

“I was going to wait until you were ready, it was going to be romantic, I was going to make a- a speech! My speech- fuck, wait, I haven’t even finished the first draft yet, fuck-“

“Jungkook,” You say, and his head swings to you almost demonically. “You’re crushing the flowers.”

He looks down at the small but meticulous trail of destruction he has left, and winces apologetically. With some reluctance, he comes and sits beside you, shuddering in what you hope is relief as you rub a hand up and down his back.

“Jungkook?” You ask expectantly, and his muscles jump underneath your fingertips.

“…yes?”

“Do you love me?”

“…uh huh.” He mumbles morosely, and you can’t stifle your laugh this time.

His head darts up, looking almost betrayed, and you let the laughter soften into a fond expression. You can finally understand why Jungkook enjoys flustering you so much. He is so cute right now, you just want to kiss him all over.

“Jungkook, you don’t need to give me some grand confession to tell me you love me. I know. You show me you love me everyday, in your actions, in the way you treat me, and that’s what really matters.”

“B-but… I had a plan.” Jungkook whispers dejectedly. You coo, crawling into his lap and cradling his pouty face in your hands. You push your thumbs into his cheeks, tugging them up into a smile and making him laugh despite himself.

“Jungkook, you do realise… this is like… the most romantic place on the planet, right? This is the perfect place for a love confession.”

Jungkook casts his wide eyes around the meadow, regarding the rolling hills of flowers and streams, ribbons of water weaving into a placid lake at the foot of the valley which reflects the gentle curves of the clouds hung in the sunny sky.

“I don’t see your point.” He says sullenly, and you laugh.

“Of course, nothing is ever perfect enough to meet your standards, my golden boy.”

“You’re perfect enough.” He replies immediately, and you raise a coaxing eyebrow.

“Because you love me?”

Finally, he smiles.

“Because I love you.”

“There you go!” You laugh, kissing him on the nose and then squealing as he tightens his arms around your waist and pulls you in for another kiss, and then another, and then another, his anxiety melting away under the summer sun. “It’s easy to say, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He sighs against your hair, planting a gentle kiss like a flower, soft against your sun-warmed skin, “But I just feel like… it shouldn’t just be easy with you, right? I mean, you’re… you’re the love of my life. You’re special.”

“Finding the love of your life makes everything easy.” You tell him with a smile, receiving one in return, before you cram a strawberry in his mouth. “Now eat! You didn’t spend all this time planning a picnic in a meadow just for it to go to waste!”

“Oh, you’re in for it now.” He says with a devious smile, before grabbing a croissant and attempting to stuff it past your laughing lips. And the two of you launch into an overcompetitive food fight, smiling and shining in the sun, and falling deeper in love with every breathless moment as the sun reflects off the lake, and everything is as easy and natural as daybreak.

(the surface of the lake will soon be disturbed when you shove jungkook in, shoes and all, but it’s alright, because he grabs you by the ankle and pulls you in with him, and the two of you go home after sunset with wet hair and kiss-swollen lips)

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 41 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Halloween

This Chapter: Things look up for Violet but turn iffy for Adore.

***

Pearl swayed a little in her heels as Adore’s lips trailed down her neck. They were half-dressed at this point, making their way to Adore’s bedroom. Adore’s jacket and shirt had been discarded, leaving her in just a thin undershirt, suspenders dangling around her waist. Pearl’s skirt was around her ankles, sweater somewhere on the floor.

She stepped out of the skirt, a sharp inhale leaving her as Adore shoved her roughly up against a wall. Her hands threaded into Adore’s hair, which was up in a tight bun, and immediately began pulling it apart. She loved the whole butch look that Adore was rocking tonight, but she loved it even more when she got to unravel it. Pearl’s hand traveled along the wall, reaching for the door handle, finally pushing it open and pulling Adore into the bedroom.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Adore breathed, pushing Pearl onto the bed.

Pearl smirked, enjoying the desperate edge in her voice as her hands groped for her bra clasp, the unrefined way she clawed at her panties to yank them down. She spread her thighs, head falling backward, hand tangled into Adore’s hair to guide her along.

“I love your pussy,” Adore continued, lapping her up vigorously, fingers digging into her thighs. “You’re perfect, so perfect…”

Adore kept lavishing praise on her, and Pearl could feel her muscles tense. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut, to close it out and focus on the way her body was responding, but it quickly became impossible. She took a deep breath and rolled Adore over onto her back, thighs straddling her face.

“Stop talking.”

Adore panted up at her, surprise all over her face as her eyes went dark. “Are you gonna punish me?”

The way she just immediately folded, immediately ceded all power to Pearl, was even more intoxicating than if she’d been submissive all along.

“I should,” Pearl said hoarsely. She ran a finger along Adore’s bottom lip. “I should show you who’s boss.”

“Do it.” Adore trembled beneath her, gripping her thighs for dear life.

Pearl took hold of the headboard and lowered herself until her pussy was pressed up against Adore’s face, riding her slowly, dictating the pressure and pace, all the while watching the blissed-out expression in Adore’s eyes. By the time Pearl came with a satisfied groan, Adore’s panties, her usual boy-cut cotton briefs, were soaked through.

It was hard not to laugh. This was the same girl who, just hours earlier, had been manhandling her on the dance floor as if she were the king of the world. And now, all it took was a few swipes of Pearl’s thumb to reduce her to a whimpering, shaking mess.

“You like that?”

“B-baby, please,” Adore begged, pupils fully dilated, hands clutching at Pearl’s hair and shoulders. “I need to come, I need-”

“Shh, shhhh…” Pearl silenced her with a kiss, finally plunging her fingers inside to give her what she so desperately wanted, stroking her g-spot until she cried out, then continuing to play with her until she was wrung out, too weak to even lift her head.

Afterwards, Pearl sucked her fingers into her mouth with a satisfied grin, letting Adore curl against her as usual, wrapping her warm body into a sweaty embrace.  

***

Sutan woke to the ever familiar scent of lavender, and the sensation of Violet’s hair up his nose.

He huffed, moving his face away, only to smile when Violet groaned, her hand coming up to grab his arm and pull him back down, forcing him to mold himself back against her back, the bed creaking underneath them.

Last night, they hadn’t returned to Sutan’s place as he had originally expected, instead, they had ended up in Violet’s apartment because Violet had insisted that she would die if she didn’t get pizza from a specific pizzeria near her building, and who was Sutan to argue with that?

“Morning gorgeous.” Sutan smiled, pressing a kiss against Violet’s shoulder, but the action only earned him another deep groan, Violet for once very clearly hungover. “Where is your bed frame?”

“Only rich people have bed frames.”

“Sure.” Sutan snorted, burrowing his face in Violet’s hair, pulling her against him.

It was strange to be in Violet’s bedroom, Sutan realizing last night with a flash of embarrassment that this was the first time he had been inside Violet’s apartment. He had picked her up from her building countless times, but they had always stayed at his, Sutan not even entertaining the idea that he should come up.

“Is there any leftover pizza?” Violet looked over her shoulder, a little bit of the mascara she hadn’t managed to get off smudged under her eye.

“You only had two slices.” Sutan had bought a pepperoni pizza for himself, Violet for some godforsaken reason going straight for pineapple and only pineapple. “I put it in your fridge.”

Sutan had never expected Violet to be someone who enjoyed cooking, but he had been shocked when he had opened her refrigerator last night, a bottle of carrot juice, a carton of almond milk and a half eaten takeaway salad all he had spotted in there.

“I’ll go get it.” Violet slipped out of bed, and Sutan couldn’t help but smile as she was wearing the tiniest pair of panties, her Hepburn jewels still around her neck since Sutan hadn’t been able to figure out the lock with a drunk and sleepy Violet in his arms.

Sutan sat up, running his hand through his hair as he looked around the bedroom, a tower of brown moving boxes in the corner. Violet’s clothes were all put away, two clothing racks holding dresses Sutan immediately recognized, but beyond the wardrobe, the room was strangely bare and devoid of personal touches.

“Huh.” Sutan bit his lip, getting out of bed. He grabbed his undershirt from the floor, cursing to himself when he realized that he didn’t have his reading glasses, using his phone without them a surefire way to feel like shit after a night out.

“Do you want coffee?” Sutan turned his head to see Violet standing in the door, now wrapped in a robe, a plate and a slice of pizza with missing bites in her hand. “I’m afraid I only have instant.”

“Instant is fine.” It wasn’t really, not when he was used to his top of the line espresso machine, but he wasn’t going to create a fuss. “Do you have anything that isn’t pineapple pizza?”

“I can make oatmeal?” Violet smiled, and he guessed that somewhat explained the strange lack of food in her fridge.

“How about I take us out for breakfast?”

***

“Raaaaaaaj,” Raven whispered, her lips right next to her fiancée's ear. “Wake up.”

They had come home from the party last night, Raja helping her out of her costume, the two of them falling into bed, drunk sex always a fucking treat, the feeling of Raja’s fake mustache against her inner thighs so strange they had both been hiccuping from laughter.

“Mmmh?”

“I’m hungry.” Raven smirked as she felt Raja’s hand travel up her back, the other woman finally awake.

“Make breakfast then.”

“I wanna go out.” Raven nuzzled her nose against Raja’s neck.

“You can starve for all that I care.”

Raven laughed. Grumpy Raja was one of her favorites, the whine in her voice one that never came out anywhere else, being allowed to see her like this, a treasure Raven guarded with her life.

“Please-” Raven nuzzled her face even closer against Raja’s neck, pressing kisses to the warm skin. “I want buttered croissants.”

“Mmh-” Raja hummed, her fingers finding the ends of her hair. Raven knew she wasn’t actually tempted by the promise of bread, Raja beyond annoying with how easy it was for her to not give in to culinary temptations.

“If you put some pants on, I can call for a car-”

“No can do buttercup.” Raja started petting her hair. “The moment I leave this bed, I have to work.”

“Seriously?” Raven sat up on her elbows, Raja actually opening her eyes now, a bit of glue still on her top lip. “Don’t look at my tits.”

“Sorry,” Raja smirked, her eyes still focused on Raven’s chest.

“You have to work? Again?” Raven wanted to throw a fit. It wasn’t a new thing that Raja worked on the weekends, it wasn't a new thing that she was constantly fighting for her attention, but this, this was a new low, both of them naked and hung over. “It’s Sunday?”

“The preparations for the Spring collection are right around the corner. You know people depend on me and Fame has unfortunately handed me a mug.”

Raven huffed, throwing herself back down on the bed, turning her back to Raja as she pulled the duvet under her chin.

“Princess-” Raven felt Raja curl around her back. “Don’t be upset.”

“And what about me? I depend on you too,” Raven grumbled, the words caught by the duvet, but Raja somehow still heard them.

“I know.” Raja peeled the duvet down, pressing a kiss against Raven’s shoulder blade. “How about we order in, eat in bed-”

“Hm?” Raven turned her head.

“And when I’m done with my very important job,” Raja smiled, her hand sneaking under the covers and settling on Raven’s hip. “I spend the very important money I make on buying very important things for our trip to Aspen?”

“Mmh,” Raven chewed her lip to keep the smile off of her face. “I guess that’s acceptable.”

***

“Ah, that hits the spot.”

Violet smiled to herself as she watched Sutan take the first sip of the double espresso he had ordered. They were sitting at a small cafe, Sutan actually cleaning up surprisingly nicely for the fact that he had only had his costume from last night at her place.

“Glad to see your craving could be satisfied.”

“Oh?” Sutan grinned, tapping his foot against hers underneath the table. “Do you really think you have room to be snarky, Miss Pineapple?”

Violet bit her lip, her cheeks heating up. She couldn’t exactly remember the entirety of last night after bumping into Courtney, Raven talking her into yet another round of shots, but she did remember Sutan’s hand on her back, did remember unlocking her door and whining when she couldn’t get her necklace off.

“Concentrate on your breakfast.”

Sutan laughed, trapping her foot between his own before he dug into his cinnamon French toast. Violet herself had opted for a sunnyside egg and a smoothie, the pizza slice she had devoured before Sutan was ready to leave sitting heavy in her stomach.

Sutan was chatting about last night, telling her a story about Detox, the two men surprisingly close for how different they were. Violet wasn’t truly listening, but it didn’t seem to matter, Sutan more than happy to just up the space.

“Lovely eyes-” Violet was pulled out of her thoughts, the man watching her with his brown eyes. “You’re tapping along with the music.”

Sutan was pointing with his fork, and Violet looked down at her fingers, her almond-shaped nails tapping on table.

“Huh…” Violet hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t even listened to the music, but now that she was aware, she could hear the notes of Waltz of the Flowers, the cafe for some reason playing Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. The music was such an ingrained part of who she was, the ballet one she had danced every December since she was 6 years old. “I’m sorry.”

“Bringing back memories?” Sutan smirked, a kind look in his eyes, but Violet felt her entire body run cold.

“Yes.” It did bring back memories, the sensation of leg warmers and sitting on hard dance floors, of chewy protein bars and being soaked in sweat, of the unbelievable satisfaction when a move was finally executed just right and she could collapse in exhaustion. “But how-”

“Did I know?” Sutan put his fork down, clearly beyond pleased with himself.

“Yes.”

Violet hadn’t told anyone in her new life that her first career had been as a dancer at the New York City Ballet, that she had been a soloist on the track for principal before her life had changed forever at 17.

“I’m a modeling agent, lovely eyes.” Sutan took his coffee cup. “I can spot a dancer from a mile away, and everything about your posture tells me that you have done ballet at some point.”

“Ah.” Violet nodded, a rush of relief coursing through her. Sutan didn’t know, hadn’t truly guessed who she used to be. “You got me.”

“What can I say,” Sutan grinned, putting his cup to his lips. “I’m the best.”

She’d tell him one day, tell him her entire story, but that day wasn’t going to be today.

***

When Violet had first started in design, she had wondered why they had several couches scattered around the room. It had started to make sense as she had seen just how social her new coworkers were, the furniture often taken up by people talking, working or even napping.

Violet had never used the couches before today, her desk and her desk chair all she needed, but while Trixie was upstairs for the  department head meeting discussing the Spring line, she had figured that it was time to test out if Trixie was actually serious about wanting them to relax.

Which was why she was on the couch, attempting to pass the time while she waited anxiously for Trixie to return.

It felt incredibly weird not to be in the boardroom, to not be standing against the wall taking notes as Fame and Raja presented the new concepts for the collections, Violet’s spine itching with annoyance over the fact that she wasn’t there.

She had considered texting Courtney, but she wasn’t sure Courtney could actually tell her anything interesting, the blonde incredibly talented at hearing but not listening, so instead, Violet had brought her backlog of magazines with her to work.

Violet had started collecting fashion magazines at 17. At first, she had only read American Vogue, but as she had started to get more and more into fashion, her monthly collection had started to grow.

Now, she bought American Vogue, British Vogue, French Vogue, Italian Vogue, Marie Claire, Harper's Bazaar and French and American Elle, her preferred newsstand knowing her by sight.

Violet knew that she could look online for fashion inspiration, knew that it was what everyone around her did, but she had always preferred either print or watching the real people of New York walk by.

Violet wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but as she flipped through the pages, she knew she’d find it sooner or later, at least one of the spots in the Spring collection belonging to her, even if she had to fight for it. Violet almost rolled her eyes as she revealed yet another page of british street style, the fabrics and cuts absolutely horrendous.

Every time the door opened, she would sit up straighter, thinking it was Trixie back with news. After 3 or 4 excruciating false alarms, he finally returned, smiling at the designers, knowing they were all on pins and needles at this point.

“Attention Team! This is not a drill!” Trixie joked. “Everyone meet me in the conference room in 5 minutes for an update on the Spring collection!”

Violet stood up immediately, hurrying directly to the conference room with her notebook, excited to hear the news. Trixie was busy sticking a handful of reference photos onto the whiteboard: A ceramic cup, an egret, a skyline of what looked to be a coastal village somewhere in Turkey, a wheat field at sunrise, a collection of fabric samples stapled together into little booklets the designers could take with them to their desks.

Apparently, this year, Fame wanted a light and breezy Spring collection. Functional and elegant with a touch of whimsy. The color palette was true Galactica: dove grey, cream, straw, ivory flecked with gold, very sparing accents of delicate pink and dusty lilac.

Violet’s mind raced with ideas of ways to manipulate silk so that it rustled and and fluttered beautifully on the runway. Of clean, beautiful lines: crisp linens and soft, feathery edges. Her fingers itched with excitement to get started as she carefully wrote down their deadlines: Thursday to turn in sketches for the in-store prêt-à-porter collection, and the following Thursday for the opening and closing runway pieces.

She knew, of course, that Alexis, Jovan, Gia, April and Maxwell had guaranteed spots in the collection, that group of designers the defining factors in the current Galactica style. She was also well aware that as a new designer, she would be doing foundation pieces.

She would be expected to pay her dues and make sure her collection pieces supported whatever final direction the senior staff chose, but Violet had never been a settler, and she was going to give being in the collection her best shot.

***

Adore sighed happily, swaying to the pounding bass of the house music, surrounded by a sea of sweaty club goers. She and her band had just played an electrifying late-night gig and she was still high on the adrenaline.

She loved being out, loved showing people why her and her band were the next big thing, but the best part of the night was that Pearl was there, had been right there in the front of the crowd cheering her on.

“Hey…” Aja came up to her, a look of concern creasing their brow, Aja’s outfit for the night a light blue latex number.

“What’s up, baby?” Adore asked, pressing a kiss to Aja’s cheek, wrapping her arms around their waist. They’d known each other since Adore first moved to New York to live with Bianca, almost 10 years ago, had been classmates at the performing arts high school along with the rest of her bandmates.

“Uh, it’s just… Dahlia is being a bit of a thot and Pearl looks… Into it…” Aja bit their lip.

Adore turned to look where Aja was gesturing, saw her friend and bass player sitting perched on a stool, back arched, plaid shirt almost entirely unbuttoned and slipping off one shoulder. Pearl stood close to her… Maybe a little closer than needed, a beer in her hand as she chatted her up. There was a bored, almost challenging look on Dahlia’s face as Pearl spoke, and the whole thing set Adore’s teeth on edge.

“Well…” Adore swallowed, fighting her impulse to march over and pull them apart, fixing a nonchalant expression on her face as she turned back to Aja, “They’re both big flirts. So what?”

“So, I don’t know if I’d be cool with it. I’m shocked you are.”

“There’s no reason for me to be a jealous bitch. I knew that Pearl was like that when we got together, so how could expect her to change? And anyway, she’s coming home with me, not Dahlia,” Adore said.

“You sure about that?” Aja asked.

Adore’s eyes narrowed, shooting a nasty look at her long-time friend, who laughed.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t realize that you were so chill.”

“I’m the chillest,” Adore said, taking a sip of her cocktail. But whether she was trying to convince herself or Aja, she wasn’t totally sure.

*

“So can I buy you a drink?”

“You can fuck off,” came the sneering reply.

“Oof,” Pearl smiled, resting her head on her hand, her elbow placed on the bar. “Kitty got claws. What got you in such a mood?”

“The company.”

There was something strangely familiar about Dahlia, but Pearl was 99% sure she hadn’t had sex with her before. She’d given up trying to place her, instead just enjoying her ice queen vibe. “I don’t think you mind my company all.”

“Don’t I?” Dahlia raised an eyebrow, her plump lips pursed, her beautiful face the picture of disinterest, but Pearl had caught her eyes flickering to her arm, had seen her notice exactly how strong Pearl was in the places where it was needed.

“I know women.”

Dahlia was hot as sin, everything about her soft and delicate, her dark hair styled in careful silky curls, the freckles on her shoulder the most delicious tease, the garterbelt that poked out from under her denim shorts promising Pearl that she’d find mouth-watering lingerie underneath Dahlia’s clothes if she ever got that far.

“I’m sure you do.”

“I could show you?”

“No.”

Pearl had to bite her lip to swallow a moan. There was something about her hyper femininity, something about how she was just a little bit mean, Dahlia radiating a promise of pink pillows, cherry chapstick and fruit scented shampoo that Pearl hadn’t even realized she was missing so fiercely it made her nipples tighten.

“Also,” Dahlia looked over her shoulder. “Your girlfriend is right over there.”

Shit.

***

Violet walked out of the elevator, a cup of steaming hot coffee and a banana in her hand. It was a little after 8--security had finally realized that her company card opened every door and locked her out, but she could still make her way to the design floor without a hitch.

Violet had come directly from the gym, her hair in a ponytail and still damp from her shower, the shoes on her feet running shoes instead of the heels she normally wore. She’d had this routine for awhile now--getting to the office early to do her makeup and hair in the big, clean Galactica bathrooms where, unlike the gym, she didn’t have to fight for mirror space, smile at strangers, or pretend to be interested in small talk. She’d have time to finish her routine and settle in to work just as the other designers began trickling in.

Today though, as she opened the big double doors to the design department, she was surprised at the sight that met her. It wasn’t one lone designer who’d arrived earlier than normal, or two people finishing a project, but rather, at least five of her colleagues sitting at their desks, busily working away already.

Violet had no idea why they were there, seeing so many of her coworkers this early honestly shocking. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like they had noticed her, so she made a beeline for the bathroom, vowing to herself that she’d get fully ready before coming into the office from now on, the risk of her coworkers seeing her as anything less than perfectly put together not one she was willing to take yet.

***

Maxwell stood by the printer, waiting for the sketches he had done on his iPad to come out. For years now, he’d been almost solely responsible for all of the business separates in the Galactica line, and it suited him just fine.

Over the years, he’d perfected the kind of crisply tailored and yet graceful and feminine lines that Miss Fame preferred, which had earned him her favor again and again and again.

When he’d seen the inspiration for the Spring collection, he was immediately flooded with ideas, and after almost 2 days of working, he was quite pleased with the sheer volume and range of choices he was going to present at the meeting, already imagining the pleased nod he’d get from the head of the company.

Violet appeared in the little printing alcove, doing a jump of surprise when she saw someone else in there. “Max, hi-”

“Sorry to scare you,” Maxwell smiled. “My job’s almost done,”

“Thanks,” Violet said, taking a step in, their elbow almost bumping against each other as she snug a peak at the printer. “Wow,” Violet turned her head, looking at Maxwell. “Are these your sketches? There’s so many already.”

“Well, you know Fame and Raja. They like to have options. ” Maxwell grinned, knowing that if anyone did know, it’d be Violet. “My technique with prêt-à-porter is to give them as many choices as possible, with lots of variation. Kind of ‘throw all the spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks’ approach, you know?”

Violet nodded, a very serious expression on her face as she listened.

“I started with a bunch of different suit options, and then I’ll use these to whip up all the other coordinating separates.”

“I just can’t believe that you’ve done so many in only 2 days,” Violet said, looking quite uncertain.

“You’re pretty fast yourself, so I wouldn’t worry.” Maxwell picked his sketches up. “Are you working on any for this week, or straight for the couture spots?”

“Yes.” Violet moved up, pressing on the printer to make it spit out her own sketches before she apparently realized that just yes wasn’t actually an answer to his question. “Prêt-à-porter isn’t my strength-“ Violet bit her lip, “But I’m not a one trick pony, and I want to play ball.”

“My advice? Be ambitious. This isn’t the time to hold back,” Maxwell said, smiling kindly. In spite of his initial reservations, he’d found himself quite charmed by the newest designer. And if he could help her get a leg up, he definitely wanted to do that, adding, “Let me know if you want me to review anything before Thursday!”

“Thanks,” Violet smiled. “I appreciate that.”

***

Courtney rushed down the street in the chilly air, in a desperate hurry to get to Broadway Dance Center in time for her class to start.

She hadn’t really given her personal dreams much thought since beginning at Galactica. But recently, when Adore was telling her all about a series of gig she’d gotten--ones Courtney couldn’t attend because they were all super late at night, mid-week, and all the way in Brooklyn--a rush of envy over Adore’s ability to focus on her music completely had overtaken her, immediately followed by guilt over such an ugly emotion.

Just because Adore had someone supporting her didn’t give Courtney any excuse to be jealous of her friend’s good fortune. Maybe things would be harder for her--that didn’t mean that she shouldn’t try. Instead of worrying about what she didn’t have, she decided to instead look to Adore’s achievements as inspiration.

She’d found an 8 pm class, figuring that it was late enough not to interfere with her work responsibilities. After all, taking an hour for herself one evening a week seemed like the kind of thing she should be able to do without a problem, right?

However, today had been even crazier than usual, with the holiday collection now being finalized, the Spring collection underway, and Fame working on a deal to expand Galactica’s flagship stores in Europe. Fame herself hadn’t even left until just before 7.

Courtney had finally managed to get away, currently sprinting the 15 blocks to BDC--she’d even had the foresight to bring sneakers. If she was fast enough, there was a chance she’d make it in time for her class.

With less than 2 blocks to go, Courtney realized that her work phone was buzzing in her hand. She paused at the corner, trying to manifest some positive energy before she answered. This will be something small. Something I already took care of. This call will end with Miss Fame pleased and happy...

“Hello?”

“Why are the Berlin contracts not in my bag?” Fame demanded.

“You...wanted to take those home?” Courtney asked, though she already knew the answer. Why would Fame be calling her otherwise? She cringed at her own carelessness, stupidly assuming that she’d review them the next day at her meeting with Patrick.

Fame seemed to be just as annoyed with Courtney as she was with herself, sighing and saying, “Deliver them now. This stress is not good for my skin,” and then hanging up even before Courtney’s “Yes, Miss.”

Courtney stood on the corner for a few moments, catching her breath, before turning around and trudging back towards the Galactica offices, shoulders slumped in defeat.

So much for dance class.

[extranaestheticinjection]

BNHA Aesthetic Tag Game

Deku: fidgety, new notebooks, sweaty palms, the smell of mint chocolate, always in a rush, untied shoelaces, colourful band aids, high grades, messy handwriting, a bunch of freckles, gets flustered easily, superhero comics collection

Todoroki: calm and collected, short sleeves all year, shaved ice, morning training, puffs of breath in the cold air, pre cooked soba, quiet with a sharp tongue, a wallflower, sitting quietly doing nothing, cat hoarder, what even are the rules

Iida: orange flavoured energy drink, running shoes, a pair of spare glasses, jogging at sunset, healthy diet, top grades, caring, a hot beef stew, the mom friend, books organised by author, guilts trip you into doing the safest thing

Uraraka: carrying a snack in each pocket, peach flavoured poki, oversized shirts and space leggings, trying to save up money, chapstick, a good listener, little but fierce, pink blush, terrible sense of humor, a broken fan, living with the bare necessities

Tsuyu: “plants are friends”, owns a dozen of succulents, Keroppi merchandise, recycled paper, only buys cruelty free products, ladybug pattern, the smell of the air after a pouring rain, yellow overshoes, jumping in puddles, absentminded

Bakugo: gunpowder smell, raw meat, ruined leather jacket, yells a lot, PunkRock tm, hardcore drumming, sleeping in, skin care, a sore loser, actually good at math, heavy eyeliner, kind of a delinquent, Sex Pistols and ACDC, straight A student, swears out loud, pierced ears

Kirishima: binge watches GoT, morning beauty routine, dyed hair, Dungeons&Dragons, a beautiful laugh, red eyeshadow palette, collection of dragon plushies, a tough softie, “bro!”, failing grades, easily distracted, jawbreaker candies

Kaminari: fizzy drink, upbeat music, waking up at 2pm, a collection of chokers, all leather outfit, finger guns, probably bi, the smell of french toast, burns the kitchen down, a funny disaster, self deprecating jokes, three power banks in the backpack, saying LOL out loud

Sero: meme master, a Target fanatic, owns all Spiderman’s comics, orange’s slices in a Tupperware, buying washi tapes on Aliexpress, the voice of reason in the group, flavoured toothpaste, midsummer morning air

Mina: harajuku vibes, city nights and neon lights, long nails, Alien movies, an empty ballroom, pocket mirror, eyeliner always on flick, fifty shades of pink nail polish, contagious laugh, “in case of emergency breakDANCE”, fight like a girl, rebel at heart

Jirou: biker gloves, headphones on, the sound of an electric bass, humming quietly, shy, full of tattoos, sleepless nights, writer’s block, would join a band, heavy rock, owns a record player, scratches cats on the streets, faint smile

Momo: rich flower perfume, the botanic garden, refined manners, a perfect handwriting, the smell of old parchment, king sized bed, composed laugh, lace underwear, very modest, crystal necklace, illustrated encyclopaedias, macarons

Ojiro: the smell of sweat and dirt, martial arts, inside jokes, Normal Type Pokémon, watching the clouds from a closed window, summer child, milk in tetra brik, friend with everyone, down to earth, the early bird gets the worm

Hagakure: kawaii aesthetic, an album full of cute stickers, galaxy make up, strawberry shortcake, positive vibes only, afraid of spiders, watches mahou shojo, hearts shaped sunglasses, drinks Unicorn milk, distracted doodles all over the notes, head in the clouds

Sato: freshly backed goods, will wrestle bad guys, watches Bake Off, very sensitive, sugar cubes, the grandma friend, feeds everyone, could eat a whole cake, Ultimate Muscles marathon, dog person, either sleeps too much or not at all

Koda: cries watching puppies’ videos, animal lover, always carrying treats, the smell of freshly cut grass, phone gallery full of animal pics, feed the birds off their hands, comfy clothes, shy smile and quiet voice

Shoji: empathic, the smell of wood, a pacifist, meditation, four servings of takoyaki, reading in silence, doesn’t look back, over protective, a clean room, does the laundry, good kid, follows the rules

Tokoyami: shopping at Hot Topic, incense and yankee candles, pentagram necklace, dark make up, has read all Edgar Allan Poe twice, DC fan, the smell of ink, black nail polish, pets all the ravens, Baudelaire poems at midnight, cryptids magazine

Aoyama: Disney movies, owns a tiara, “shiny!”, cheese and crackers, the annoying friend, Instagram filters, nosy, has good intentions, 100% gay, figure ice skating, the smell of clean sheets, super photogenic, unicorns, “but first, let me take a selfie”, will listen to all your problems and give good advices

Monoma: fresh croissant, bottled emotions, french comics collection, fake it til you make it, Paris, short sleeved shirt, a flower crown, ctrl+c, the spring breeze, theatre kid, has watched all seasons of Glee, can sing, LOTR posters, annoying laugh, shitposts, IG stories everything

Shinsou: insomnia, Billie Eilish and Lana Del Rey, reads decadent poets, the smell of lavender, an old bike, smog mask, purple eye bags, messy hair, filled with determination, doesn’t talk much, Play Station over XBOX, retro gaming, snarky remarks, antisocial

Mei: overwork, too much caffeine, broken glasses, forgets to eat, an artist, sugary drinks, always positive, oversized denim jacket, the cold of November, cyberpunk aesthetic, in love with the big city, dirt under short nails, motor oil and a wrench, laughing loudly

[meetmeinthematinee]

Torn -- Chapter 2

A/N: Fluffy but also -- SMUTTY! NSFW by the end of it. 

Chapter one can be found here.

This chapter inspired by a request from @hereticpriest Hope you like it! 

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I’d like to see you again. Free Sunday?

-Yes! 

-To both. 

-What time / where?

2PM at the park. Meet at the big gate. Bring Gremlin. 

-I can bring wine! And Gremlin. 

Perfect. Is there anything you don’t / can’t eat?

-I don’t like raw tomatoes.

WHAT? Date cancelled.

Just kidding. See you Sunday at 2. 

-You jerk. 

-See you Sunday. Can’t wait!

John put down his phone and let out the breath he was holding with a low whistle. Her kindness and that kiss was all he could think about lately. He needed her even though he still wasn’t sure he was ready for whatever this was going to be. He sank back into the couch and Dog hopped up to join him, nuzzling his big grey face against his hand. “Good Dog.” He said quietly as he turned his attention back to his book.

------

Kristen smiled widely as she tucked her phone into her back pocket. It didn’t escape Steph’s notice. “Lemme guess -- he asked you out FINALLY?!?” She shot Steph a steely look but the blush that had crept up her face gave it away. “Yes, he did.” She bit her lip as she considered how many details to give away. “We’re going to the park Sunday.” She grinned. “I was going to say something snarky but you know what, that’s lowkey romantic.” Steph added. Kristen just shook her head a little and turned back to the order she was putting together. She was excited but also really nervous. It had been a while since she’d been out with anyone she actually liked this much. 

----------

John’s heart lurched a little at the sight of Kristen walking towards him with Gremlin in tow. God, she looked stunning he thought to himself as he admired her long hair swept up into a high ponytail and her floral patterned sundress. Her smile caused his heart to lurch in his chest. He grinned back at her and Dog walked over to cautiously sniff at Gremlin. The two seemed to decide that they were ok with each other which was a relief. “You look beautiful.” John said before leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself John.” She said with a laugh. They headed deeper into the park and found a spot in the shade that was -- much to John’s delight -- away from people. He knew he was going to have to explain some difficult things about his life and he didn’t want an audience. 

Kristen spread out the large blanket she had brought along and they all settled down onto it. John winced as he lowered himself to the ground cautiously. Kristen eyed him as she filled two glasses with wine and handed one to John. “Is turkey, brie and apple on a croissant ok with you?” He asked as he handed her a wrapped package. She laughed warmly. “That’s one of my favourites actually!” She said as she took it and started to unwrap it. John took off his sunglasses and the concerned look that crossed her face when her eyes landed on the fresh cuts around his right eye didn’t escape his notice. 

He took a long sip of his drink waiting for the question he was dreading. “Are you okay John? You’re hurt. What happened to you?” She asked and the concern was heavy in her voice. His heart sank. “I.” He swallowed heavily and took another gulp of wine. “It happened at work. Kristen, I have feelings for you and because of that I need to be completely honest with you. About what I do.” He could see the alarm rising in her eyes so he reached out and gently took her hand in his. 

Everything had come spilling out. About his job, his retirement, her death, everything. She sat quietly and squeezed his hand when she could see he was feeling overwhelmed. When he finished she covered his hand with hers. She had an unreadable look on her face. “I understand completely if you never want to see me again.” He said quietly but the resignation in his voice that told her he meant it. She felt dizzy. She closed her eyes for a moment and pulled in a long, slow breath. Opening her eyes again she exhaled slowly. “John, I need a moment -- I will be back” She squeezed his hand and stood up shakily. “Ok.” He agreed. “Gremlin, stay.” She commanded as she turned and walked away. He pulled gremlin onto his lap and pet him gently not wanting the tiny spark of hope he felt to be extinguished.

She wasn’t sure where she was going she just needed some time to herself to process everything she’d heard. He kills people. For a living. She had sensed that there was something different about John but she wasn’t prepared for this. She was completely taken aback at how little this information dampened her feelings for him. Spotting a washroom she headed towards it and stepped into the small stone building where she stood in front of the clouded, old mirror staring hard at herself. It dawned on her that he was giving her a way out of all of this -- before either one of them was in too deep to make hard choices. He didn’t plead or beg or make excuses. He laid everything out for her allowing her to make her own choice, to decide if she had a place for a man like him in her life. That was rare. She’d never run across a man who gave enough of a shit about her life to consider if he belonged there in the first place. Kristen gripped the counter tightly and made up her mind.

Gremlin was still on his lap when she walked back to him. She sat down and patted Dogs big sleepy face before leaning against John. He refilled their glasses. She lifted hers in a toast and clinked it against his. “To us.” She stated. His mouth dropped open a little. “After all of that, there’s an us?” He questioned with wide eyes. “If you’re ready for that, yes.” She looked up at him expectantly. They both took a drink before he covered her mouth with his. She wound her fingers into his hair and explored his mouth with her tongue. He gently put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her away and searched her face for a moment before asking “You’re certain?” She held his face in her hand running her thumb across his cheek as she spoke. “You’ve been honest with me from the beginning. This is the kind of life that most people would hide -- or at least try to and then months or years later it would blow up spectacularly. Am I a little scared? Yes. Of you? Not really. I know if I have questions I can ask and you’ll answer truthfully. That’s what I care about.” She said softly.  

 Gremlin hopped off Johns lap and curled up beside Dog. John watched as she smiled softly at the two dogs and he pulled her in closer against him. He laid his head against hers and closed his eyes feeling content for the first time in what felt like years. She smelled like shampoo and something darker, spicier. He swallowed heavily as she slid her hand up his thigh and then slipped her hand up under his shirt resting on his lower back. “Do you want to come to my place?” Her voice was low and even. His eyes snapped open and the sight of her perched next to him with her lower lip caught between her teeth while the soft warmth of her hand was pressed against his skin was enough to erase any hesitation. “Yeah.” He nodded and stood up startling the dogs from their cozy nap. “Easy, boys.” He said with a laugh as they gathered up their stuff. 

Kristen let out a low whistle when they got to John’s Mustang. “Now I see why you were so pissed. She’s a beauty. I’m glad you got her up and running again.” John just smiled and lifted a brow. She lightly ran her hand along the roof line. “Now let’s see if you can make her purr.”  He laughed aloud at that. “Are you talking about you or the car?” She shrugged and tilted her head to the side with a smirk and trailed her hand down his chest. He captured her hand and held it against him. He leaned in close, brushed an errant strand of her hair behind her ear and growled “I can do both.” 

They pulled up in front of her house. It was a semi-detached victorian with a second floor turret and gingerbread wood trim. Making their way up onto the porch she invited him in as Gremlin bounced around impatiently at her feet. Dog was standing calmly beside John wagging his tail.

The narrow hardwood floors showed their age but were well cared for. He instantly felt at ease here. Gremlin and dog scampered off leaving the two of them alone in the entryway. Leaning down he pulled her in close to him. She buried her face in his chest for a moment before smiling up at him. “Would you like the grand tour? It’s a work in progress so some rooms aren’t in the best of shape. With the shop sometimes I don’t have the energy to tackle things when I get home.” “Wait. You’re restoring this place on your own?” “Mostly, yeah. I call in trades for things I can’t do myself -- but everything else I do. I like the challenge and it feels like I’m taking care of something. It sounds silly but I like to think it makes the house happy.” She blushed and looked away from him. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” She laughed and pulled him by the hand. “It’s not silly you know. That’s how I feel when I work on books. Productive. Like I’m part of something outside of myself.” He said quietly. Her eyes sparkled as she beamed at him. That smile will be my undoing he thought to himself. She lightly pushed against his chest. “Exactly! Would you like something to drink? I have more wine if you’d like.” “Yeah, why not.” She poured them each a glass and continued the house tour. He was awestruck at how much work she’d put into the place. Even in the spaces that were in progress her sense of style was so strong he could see what they would look like when done. 

“And this -- is my bedroom.” It was the turret room. The walls were a deep shade of teal that contrasted against the soft white trim. It was flooded by natural light. A reading nook was set up in the rounded part of the turret and the room was anchored by a king sized bed covered with soft grey linens and a pile of pillows. She laced her fingers into his and stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him. He unwound his fingers from hers and wrapped his arm around her waist planting his hand firmly against her lower back. He leaned down and buried his face in her neck, kissing gently upwards until he reached her ear. “You’re incredible.” He murmured. His breath was warm and she savoured the feeling of his beard against her soft skin. She laughed and flushed again. He pulled back from her and took her face in his hand. “No, Kristen I mean it. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” “I can same the same for you John.” She replied before leaning up to kiss him again. 

He took her glass from her and set them down on the nightstand before backing her up against the bed. Taking her face in his hand again he captured her mouth with his in a heated kiss. Her hands gripped his back tightly and she could feel him becoming hard against her. She moaned against his mouth when his hand slid from her face to lightly cup her breast. They broke apart for air and she leaned her forehead against his chest. She fit so perfectly against him. “I want you.” He slid his thumb over her nipple through the soft fabric of her sundress. “I want you too.” She said with a mischievous grin as she reached out and started to unbutton his shirt with unsteady hands. He covered her hands with his and squeezed them. “It’s not too fast?” “I’m just nervous, it’s uh. Been a while.” She bit her lip as he nodded at her. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders.  

She gasped a little when she caught sight of the yellow and green bruises on his ribs. She ran her fingers lightly over his many raised scars. He grimaced slightly at the sound of her gasp. “Even if I hadn’t been honest with you, how would I explain the way I look.” She tilted her head to the side and thought for a moment. “Bouncer. Or stuntman?” He laughed. “Shit. That’s pretty good.” She unbuckled his belt and he slid his jeans down, stepping out of them. He gathered up the fabric of her dress under his fingers and lifted it up and over her head. He gently eased her back onto the bed and she slid over onto her side. He settled himself next to her pulling her leg up over his hip, giving him better access to her. They were both breathing hard as they explored each other with their hands. Trading kisses and moans in equal measure. He rolled her onto her back and trailed his large hand down her stomach leaning down and kissing her deeply while he slid his fingers under the lace of her underwear. He swore softly when his fingers dipped into the wetness he found pooled there. She bit her lip and arched her hips up against him in encouragement. John got off the bed and grabbed her by the ankles tugging her down to where he was now kneeling on the floor. He licked his lips as he tugged her underwear off of her and hooked her leg over his shoulder. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his tongue against her eagerly lapping at her while he moaned appreciatively against her pussy. She tangled her fingers tightly into his hair and couldn’t stop herself from grinding against his face. He snaked an arm across her and held her down murmuring “Easy, girl.” Before he went back to work sucking at her clit. She was moaning loudly now and he couldn’t help but smirk as he continued to eat her with an enthusiasm she’d never experienced from any other man. She gasped deeply and yanked his hair as he slid a thick finger inside her. “Oh FUCK!” She yelped as he curled it hitting against her g-spot. He could feel that she was close. She was clawing at him and whimpering unabashedly. He watched her face as he added a second finger. Her eyes shot open and were wild, a scarlet flush creeping all the way down her chest. 

He couldn’t wait any longer. He got up from the floor with a groan and slid off his boxer briefs. She sat up looking dazed and pulled her hair out of its ponytail so it cascaded down around her. She licked her lips, ruby red and swollen from their earlier kisses and she leaned in and delicately took him into her mouth. His groan echoed in the room and his head dropped back as she licked and sucked at him before eventually taking as much of his length as she could. She grasped onto his hips and moaned sending vibrations through his cock. She pulled him out of her mouth before taking a deep breath and slowly burying her face all the way to his pubic bone. She looked up at him and he felt like he was going to drop to the floor. She slid him out of her mouth and smiled. She leaned away and rummaged through her nightstand drawer before pulling out a condom. He carefully tore open the golden wrapper and rolled it onto himself. 

She scooted back into the middle of the bed and he crawled over top of her positioning himself between her legs while she reached between them and helped guide him in. They moaned in unison as they got accustomed to the feeling of each other. He rocked slowly into her at first not wanting to hurt her. She sensed he was worried but she was so wet and ready that he didn’t need to be. She tightly wrapped her legs around him and dug her nails into his back while rocking harder against him. He leaned his face down against hers as he thrust harder into her kissing her sloppily. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It had been a long time since he’d been with anyone and he felt so good -- so right -- inside her. He watched with wide eyes as she sucked her fingers into her mouth and brought them down to rub circles on her clit. The sight of her touching herself as he fucked her was too much for him. His thrusts became erratic as he tried to hold on but as she moaned and clenched tighter around him he came with one last deep stroke into her. She arched up against him as she rode out her own orgasm and there was a sudden burst of warmth that rushed over him as she let out a strangled moan. He collapsed gently on top of her making sure to not crush her and they stayed that way until their breathing returned to normal. He rubbed soft circles across her skin with his fingers as she combed her fingers through his hair. She broke the comfortable silence they had fallen into. “Holy shit that was satisfying.” He turned and gazed up at her with a smile. “You taste so good.” “Are you hungry, John?” His mouth dropped open a little and he lifted a brow. He wasn’t quite sure where she was going with this. “I’ll make us dinner.” She said with a laugh. “Wait, what did you think I meant?” “I’d like dinner. I’ll make sure to save room for dessert too.” He said with a wink before he cut off her laughter with a kiss. 

[withclawsinyourback]

lucy

General Information

Full name Lucy Eleanora Griffith Nickname: Lucy Age: -- Nationality: American Religion: Athiest City of birth: Mystic, Connecticut The current place for living: Seattle, Washington Job title: Psychiatrist Employing company: -- Income: $280,000 Is he or she married? Divorced Mother tongue: English Birthday: September 13, 1981 Does he or she own a home? Yes What does the character like? - athletics, purple, the beach, forests, rain, dresses, reading, coffee, sweats, graphic T’s, cardigans, Nike, fruit, trees/flowers (lilies), pressed flowers/plants, sleeping, indie music, jewelry, dogs, learning, the dark/nighttime, Fall weather, pastries (croissants), chocolates

What does the character dislike? - guilt, crowds, honesty, parties, holidays, snow, eating, yellow, dry weather

Background

How would you describe the childhood of the character? - high expectations, more so from herself than others; rigid and finicky, responsible, competitive; loved and protected by her twin older brothers; socially awkward, anxious, well mannered How would you describe the teenage years of the character? - same as above, but less socially awkward; perfectionist, highly motivated, success-oriented, dedicated to running and athletics, skittish, naive; she was generally sucked into academics and athletics; became anxious by love shown to her by her family because of her attitude towards perfection; wanted more independence How would you describe the adulthood of the character? - chronically depressed, pushed loved ones away, consumed by her illness, workaholic, snarky, defensive, disappointing and disappointed

Role and Involvement of Character

What’s the role of the character in the story? Hurting herself and others; self-involved How is the character introduced? - tbd What’s the first time she is mentioned in the story? - The very beginning

Relationships

Sisters or brothers: Jeremy & Scott Wife or husband: Roderick Children: Sylvie & Althea Grandparents: -- Grandchildren: -- Other important persons:  Relationships with other characters of the story: Roderick: ex-husband; still in love, pushed away, dismissive, combative, defensive, accusations, anxious, guilty Sylvie: her oldest daughter; guilty, lashing out, parented by her daughter, concerning, dismissive, negligent, anxious, defensive Althea: youngest daughter, babied, influential in bad habits, kept in the dark, complacent Jeremy: older brother, twin to Scott; babies Lucy, gives her too many chances, pushed away, hovery,  [Character 5]

Physical Characteristics:

Addictions: A/N, exercise Bad Habits: A/N, spacing out, overexercising, chewing her lips Color of Eyes: light brown The color of Hair: dark brown The color of Skin: light Dialect: -- Does the character drink regularly? No Does the character have any disabilities? A/N Does the character prefer any proverbs? No Does the character smoke? No Good Habits: cleaning, general chores Height: 5′8″ Hobbies: running Is he/she wearing Glasses? Is the character healthy or does he have any diseases? A/N + complications Type of Face: pointy Weight: -- What’s the style of the character? (modern, outmoded): a bit modern in the science sense

Mental Characteristics

Education: MD Intelligent or not? Intelligent Fears: gaining weight,  Life Goals (next 5 years): none Life Goals (next 25 years): none Self-perception: ugly, mean, bitter, sad, worthless, a burden Assumed external perception: mean, selfish, self-absorbed, condescending, bitter, a burden Self-Confidence: POOR Rational Or Emotional: both How could you upset this character? telling her you care

Emotional Characteristics

What are emotional strengths of the character? - can separated emotions from work, level-headed in stressful situations not related to herself, good at divulging information from others What are emotional weaknesses of the character? - numb, closed off, cognitive dissonance, defensive, lashes out, pushes others away Is the character an introvert or an extrovert? introvert How does the character cope with fury and rage? - takes it out on herself and others; verbally or with a cold shoulder; shut up in her room, isolated, screaming, crying, hurting herself, restricting … with unhappiness? - hurting herself, isolation, crying, focus on weight, increased lack of appetite, sleeping … with rivalry? - waits for the other to fail or make mistakes, quietly competitive, works even harder or acts unbothered … with new situations? - quiet, skittish, contemplative, observational or withdrawn … with trouble? - withdrawn, spiraling, or level headed when it isn’t directly related to her What’s his or her meaning of life? - none What would the character like to change in his/her life? - her ED or her relationships What things motivate the character? - her daughters What situations scares the character? - gaining weight, harm to her family What makes this character happy? - her daughters, being outside Is the character often biased? - yes Does the character prefer to give or to take? - take Is the character rather nice or rude? - can be rather cold, but generally nice