#regardless of what hot lesbian is beam blasting at her side

[tzimtzum]

the way usagi seems so much more mature in stars always hurts me like whenever she's with mamoru it's so creepy because she seems like suuuch a little girl with this adult man but then when she's with seiya its like oh she's....just silly c: like because she gets to be silly with someone her own age who sees & treats her as an equal you get to see she isnt actually some ridiculous baby she is just a silly girlie who is perhaps a little too used to self infantilising for SOME reason

[artificialqueens]

untitled part 1 (monet x cracker) -lem0nb0y

an: this fic was mostly written while I was half asleep and high but reviewed ans editted while i've been at work. im sorry i haven't been writing much but this is just a drabble cuz i wanted to write for monet. monet and trinity are managers at a phone store btw. this takes place is a part of a different verse of mine, but ofc monet, monique, bob and trinity simple just exist in this verse, they aren't important towards the whole ravjila timeline. im rambling but here is monet being a simple clumsy lesbian.

"Nonono! You have no clue how stressful work was today! We finally released that new phone ya know? Line was down the street, girl! I thought I'd never get out of there! Not to mention the only other manager there was Trinity and don't get me wrong Mo, I love Trin' and all, but she was pushin' alllll my wrong buttons."

With her shoulder pressed into her ear with a phone pancaked between, Monet opens up her purse, shoving her hand into the bag to find her earbuds for an easier talk with her roommate. She couldn't wait to complain about her day of work. The subway was practically empty from what she could see in front of her, which wasn't suprising. She stomps her way to the correct stop, her ankles pinching in pain over standing on her feet all day. Even with the crashing pain swelling her head she could still smile and tone in on her best friends dramatic telling of her own day. Monique's voice on full blast in her eardrum, she quickly takes her phone from between her shoulder and shoves the earbud plug into the phones socket.

Putting the buds in her ears she listens to the beaming storytelling, chuckling along at the antics that seemed to have taken place in Monique's personal life. "-And do you know who I bumped into today? The one and only, Miss Manila! She's doing really well, got TWO girls!"

"Two? Are you sure?" Monet eyebrows press together in confusion, shocked that their old friend had not one girlfriend, but in fact two! She pouts her lips slightly in jealousy, wishing she had at least one partner. All while stepping onto her train ride home, she turns down the volume of the call so nobody around her would hear. Monique continues her retelling of seeing Manila. "Yes! They were all snuggle buggin'. One of them is that one girl that gave you make-up tips few months ago at Sephora!"

"Wait that hot girl with the blonde braids? She's dating HER!?" Monet accidentally raising her voice a bit too loud, the few people on train looking at her with drunken, narrowed eyes. Quietly apologizing, she takes a seat two seats down from a young woman. Monet holds the mic closer to her lips, continuing to chat regardless of the company of strangers. "Nila really got lucky if she is dating that girl, she's gorgeous."

Monique agrees, changing the topic to the recent man in her life, rambling on about the endless details of the date they had recently. Those details went anywhere from how he seems to hold himself to his apparently massive dick print in his jeans. Monet listened carefully, putting in her input here and there but her mind wandered back to the fact her old highschool friend now had two more girlfriends than her. She hadn't been the best with relationships after all, but she knew she had the power and go out to get someone special.

Twirling one of her thin braids around her fingers, she ends up only replying to Monique's questions with a simple 'mhm'. She couldn't help but linger on the idea of wanting to get back out there, like Monique. Maybe go back on Tinder and swipe til she meets her future wife. Doing just that she begins the hunt for the perfect gal to fill her heart. Swiping left and right, she gets lost in it all and had paid no attention to Monique.

"Earth to Monet! Are you even listening!" Monique yells loudly into her own mic, causing Monet to snap her head up slightly and she sighs quietly. Regaining herself back into the small details about the conversation, she finally speaks. "I'm sorry girl but I think I'm just real worn out tonight. But to answer your question, suck his dick on the 3rd date. Okay, love you, night."

Monet hangs the call up and looks around herself, to see how busy the train actually was. The woman next to her and two men down the other side were all her company. As she turned her head to scope the scene, the blonde next to her flips a page of her book. She's reading an older and faded book with a rubbed off title. Looking her up an down quickly, Monet notices her pretty pink shoes. The princess pink shoes with the nails on her fingers to match, had her quite smitten. She was pretty from the small look that Monet got. A silvery blonde with a beautiful profile and sense of style wearing a poodle skirt and a tucked in white shirt. Only seeing part of the shirt, Monet could make out a peace sign.

Having returned her eyes to the phone, the Tinder swiping starts. She carelessly examines the profiles to see if they are deamed worthy of a super like. Many of the girls were basic, just visiting for vacation while others were looking for threesomes. Not quite what she had in mind but still analyzing there profiles regardless. Swiping away from another girl reluctantly, Monets eyes widen slightly as she sees a newly familiar girl.

The girl that sits not less than 6 feet from her was on her phone screen. She looks around to make sure nobody can see, nervously turning her phone screen ever so slightly away from Brianna. That's her name, Brianna. Brianna has a cat, is a hair stylist, and looking for a good coffee date. She had good fashion, always wearing pink and likes to cook. Monet stares down at her phone, wondering of what to do. Being so nervously curious to see if they could match, she hadn't even realized it was her stop. Quickly jumping up before she was left, she drops her phone on the ground. It lands face down, skitting down the floor of the train. "Shit!" Monet exclaims as she grabs it off the ground without even checking for damage. Brianna had looked up from her book just as Monet was rushed off the train, seemingly embarrassed of herself.

Embarrassed she was, after all she had just cracked her brand new phone in front of the first woman that's even peaked her interest the smallest bit all year long. It was love at first sight, but Monet doesn't believe it. Who would believe that one glance a basic blonde girl that likes to cook would be the kick start in the heart that she needed? Monets eyes wander to the long crack down the phone screen all while texting her other best friend if she can come over in hopes to get her head on straight.

She has only two best friends, one of course being the loud and happy Monique always knowing the details behind anyone. The second would be Bob. She's famous for owning the dumbest nickname known to man and being chaotically witty, knowing exactly what to say at all the seemingly wrong times. While being paired with Monique, Monet had the dream team on her hands. Bob especially was a force to be reckoned with when paired with Monet. While they bicker constantly about tiniest details of any memory they share, Monet had a tendency to lose the battle. Nonetheless she knew that Bob was who she needed to talk to about this encounter, regardless of how Bob may question her rationality of putting all her eggs into a basket named Brianna.

Sending text after text, asking if she was awake or busy, Monet got to response. The awkward thing about that was she had already arrived outside of Bobs apartment, in hopes she'd reply while she was on the way. They only lived but a few blocks apart from each other so even if Bob didn't answer the door, Monet could just walk home somewhat still hazey-headed. Monet turned off her phone and pushed it into her bag, looking at the door in front of her. "I hope this bitch is awake." She says quietly before knocking firmly and repeatedly.

There's a pause. Monet can hear the approaching footsteps staggering towards the door, presumably since Bob had just woke up. Stepping back from the door, she watches and Bob flings the door open quickly. In the doorway is Bob, a spatula in hand."Monet! Why the fuck do you knock like the damn police, I mean my god!" Bob smiles with the tip of her tounge bitten between her teeth.

Monet smiles back, going in for a hug. She hadn't actually seen Bob in weeks. Thinking about it, Monet worries that this is the worst idea to discuss her petty love life when she hadn't caught up with her bestie in awhile. The idea rattles around in her brain but still manages to reply unfazed. "I had to make sure you'd wake up! But why the fuck did you think a spatula would protect you from the cops!" A half truth, she really didn't realize she had knocked loud enough to simulate the police. Still questioning why she had chosen a cooking tool for self defense with bickering and laughter, Bob steps to the side of the door to have room for Monet to come in.