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lasuperbefille replied to your post:there are firetrucks literally immediately outside...
what’s going on? :o Are you safe?
We're not aflame and I don't think anyone else is, but they just wheeled out a stretcher, but I couldn't see if there was a body- There were no sirens either I'm confused.
◭
Send me a ◭ and I'll tell you something my character does or would likely do around yours that is unique or specialized to their interactions.
✾ —— Ooh, I feel like Grantaire would find it easier to relax and just laugh around her genuinely than most people.
[shimmies url into your inbox] ouo
Opinion on;
Character in general: musICHETTAAAAAAAAAA. no but we got so little about her and yet i adore her so much. fandom for once did not disappoint on this one no sirree. How they play them: *cries* omg. like the best, really. I'm kind of in love with their portrayal so so much not going to lie here um.The Mun: haven't spoken to them ooc i don't think but gosh they actually seem super duper lovely i--
Do I:
RP with them: no/yes/kind of/at times??/ Want to RP with them: of course !!!!
What is my;
Overall Opinion: such a perfect musichetta and such a perfect mun and really if you're not following i do not understand why because wow!
noot noot~~
Send me a "noot noot" if you enjoy my writing style and writing with me!
✾ —— Eee. *sobs what???*
3
Inbox me a "<3" if you've ever fangirled over me.
✾ —— yOU///?// but i’m supposed to fangirl over you no?
{{dropping by to say your new theme looks spiffy c:}}
---- [[ Ah, why thank you !!! I'm actually rather fond of it already... ]]
I want the K
13.) stomach kiss
There are two kinds of watching-a-movie, one of which involves popcorn and snarky remarks, the other of which the two of them are currently engaged in—the sort that consists of a movie playing somewhere in the vicinity, with absolutely no one watching it. This is because the couch is low enough (this is an excuse) that Musichetta can arch her spine over its back just slightly, pulling her shirt up with her shoulders just enough that there would be a strip of her stomach bared even if Grantaire wasn’t on his knees in front of the couch, pushing it up.
That, by the way, is entirely the fault of the fact that she thinks it’s entirely appropriate to have her legs stretched out onto the table in front of her whilst they’re watching Casablanca. She knows full well how fantastic her legs are, he’s told her a hundred times.
She hooks a foot over his shoulder and pulls him closer, close enough that he can lean between her legs and press a kiss to the exposed skin (fallow, but it tastes more carmine) directly below her navel, which he does because he’s nothing if not opportunistic and probably halfway in love with the curve there. He’s almost entirely certain she does that (that pushing him around with her feet thing) because he knows he likes it, and he decides that’s quite enough of that.
Her laughter is close to a giggle when he drops his hands away from her breasts to grab her by the hips and hook her pants down as far as he can get it before she uses her thighs on his shoulders to push upwards and help him.
Then he makes goddamn sure she’s not giggling.
↝
What could he say to her really? There's not much, but there's also a million things -- there's no declaration of love to be told, not whispers of reaffirmation of it either. But there was always one thing he admired about her, and hoped she'd continue to do for the rest of her life:
"S --
T --
A --
Y.
.
"S --
T --
R --
O --
N --
G."
