#adsperitas

[adsperitas]

it says in the sidebar now that i’ve went and made a new blog ( now with new and improved organization ) !!!

queue has run out!

ily all feel free to ask for the new url or like this post for it

[mockwrites]

❣

❣ -- a teasing / sensual kiss.

There was something about her nature that was endlessly greedy and grasping, a tenuous balance of having too much and always wanting more and more and more. 

She could occupy all of Matthias’ attention and still want more; it was something equally frustrating for both of them, a martyr who had no more to give and a girl who knew nothing but taking. When Gale came into their lives, it was a welcome break for the both of them as she turned the intensity of her focus unto another person -- and she got another colorful character to write into her life.

But catching her attention was another challenge to scale -- Aurelia ran her tongue over her bottom lip, deep in thought, tea steaming and untouched in front of her, Matthias similarly neglected as she pondered how best to get Gale to pay attention. 

PDA always made the normal person look away -- but Gale hardly struck her as conventional, and so she reached over, laying her hand over Matthias’ to grab his attention, knowing that it would willingly be given, much like any other part of him.

She smiled in response to his questioning glance, a quirk of his eyebrows, a twitch in his set jaw, moving her hand up to catch his face and kissing the curiosity off his lips, lingering a moment too much to be considered decent in public, inhaling the neat cologne he had on, licking her lips once again after pulling away to taste the coffee he had.

He tilted his head as if to question her motives; no doubt also to reprimand her for trying to make a scene in a public space, but her attention was already directed elsewhere.

[elliesmuses]

“do me a favour, kiss my ass.”

Her smile is unrestrained and positively gleeful, even as she touches her tongue to the roof of her mouth in a light tutting sound. “Language, Matty, can’t Jesus hear you fuckin’ everywhere?” 

She’s pushing his buttons on purpose, delighting in the rise she’s already gotten from him. This is the Mattias she so yearns to see: unrestrained and raw, even if it’s in anger directed at her. 

Anger doesn’t bother Gale, especially not his. His anger is electric. It makes her feel present, vividly alive in her own skin. It makes her feel seen, for how many others can boast that they’ve gotten to him so thoroughly? 

Amusement dances in her eyes. She’s toeing the line here, and she knows it. “Throw in a please and maybe I will.” 

[mockmade]

“Sleep at my place tonight.” ( rosalie x addison )

Rosalie hummed, swinging her legs off the bed, back facing Addison. “Yeah, sure,” she said sarcastically, raising her eyebrows and giving a cheeky reproving glance back at her. “Because that works out well, and is never awkward the morning after. It was fun, Gauthier,” she offered up flippantly, hooking her bra before searching for her dress, as if she hadn’t just been saying her first name to the stars, back pressed to the bed, in a sea of silk sheets. “We should leave it at that,” she bit out, like she didn’t already know she’d find some other excuse the next day to wind up precisely in her bed again.

The sheets shifted behind her and she stopped in her methodical redressing, hesitating and looking over where her dress lay abandoned at the foot of the bed. Thinking her will stronger than it was, clearly, she chanced a look back to where Addison sat, hair mussed and blue eyes just idly watching, clocking, her every movement. Neutral and calculating, never betraying an ounce of what she was thinking. The wood floor was cold under her feet and she sighed.

Rosalie turned away like she’d been burned, breathing a little more labored as she kept a thin handle over her self control; Addison wasn’t known for maintaining any sort of relationship, perse, but there had been rumors – but then again, rumors were impossible to avoid for a woman in her position.

The bottom line remained: Addison wouldn’t be able to leave her if she left first.

She grabbed her dress, biting down on the inside of her cheek, conflicted. “Fuck it,” she breathed, dropping it again. “I hope, for both of our sakes, we don’t regret this come morning,” she said, making her way back around and laying down, back still to Addison, heart pounding a mile a minute.

[ofinscriptions]

hello! are you participating in july camp nano by any chance?

Hi! Yes I am!!! (: 

Here’s my profile, but if you can’t click the link my username is “adsperitas”

Can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with for camp!!! ((((: 

[adsperitas]

Name Change

hey friends! i’m gonna be changing the name i’m using here and offline ( because i wanted them to be the same lol ) and i’ve decided on Charlie so, please, try your best!!

ofc either Charlie or Josh is okay, but i definitely prefer Charlie!!

Thank you friends!! <3

[elliesmuses]

“is it bad i really want to kiss you right now?” (':

Imperfectly-lined lips curled into a smirk; an instinctive reaction meant to conceal the way her heart was racing and her palms were so sweaty she’d have to wipe them off just to unlock her phone. 

Gale couldn’t remember what they’d been arguing about, nor did she care. The what never mattered, not really. What mattered was the light in Mattias’s eyes, that glimmer of fire he spent so much time trying to stamp out. 

This was…not that. 

It left her on uneven footing, robbed suddenly of the upper hand as she found herself without experience or a witty comeback to pull from. Her eyes flickered down to his lips. She wondered, if he did kiss her, if that faint stubble giving him a five o’clock shadow would scratch. 

“Probably,” she told him, her eyes flashing back up to meet his with more confidence than she felt. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t, though.” It was a bluff. A challenge issued with an arched eyebrow that she didn’t expect him to rise to. 

Though there was a small part of her that hoped – and feared – he would. 

[mockmade]

"i can’t wait to raise a dog with you." ( rosalie x addison )

“So what’s stopping you?” Rosalie asked coyly, biting down on her lower lip, grabbing onto Addison’s hands tightly and reeling her in, forcing her into closer quarters – easily done since she’d forgone the heels for comfort at their apartment. She led Addison’s hands to rest on the swell of her hips, setting them down firmly there and winding her own arms around her neck, swaying to a unheard melody. She trailed invisible patterns over the arch and curve of back of Addison’s neck, memorizing the feeling with the pads of her fingers.

“We could go to the pound now,” she murmured, pressing impossibly closer with every passing second, closing her eyes and still swaying in Addison’s arms, pressing her forehead against hers, stealing kisses like candies with every word. “Adopt ourselves a cute little dog that’ll end up loving me more, but looking like you,” she whispered, smiling into the press of their lips, pulling away after each word to ensure that they didn’t get sidetracked.

“Or,” she said, pulling her face further and opening her eyes, grinning impishly. “We could go in half an hour. Any ideas how to spend the next half hour?”

[mockwrites]

Foxglove — “You are not really in love.”

Aurelia rubbed the delicate veins of the purple petals between her thumb and index gently, feeling the thin lines run over her fingertips, a wisp of a deceptively serene smile upon her lips before she crushed it under her fingers, feeling it tear and weep.

“If this isn’t love, then I don’t know what is,” she insisted, crossing away to toss the flower away. “So be a dear, Matt. When you toss the garbage, take care to wrap that flower up -- it’s poisonous; it causes heart problems. I don’t want some poor animal to root in our garbage and come across such a cruel thing,” she said frostily, crossing back over and patting his arm, grabbing her phone and slipping on her heels.

“And anyway, if I wanted a lecture, I would’ve asked Gale for a programming lesson. I’m going out. My favorite flower is still a rose. Keep that in mind for next time,” she said, waving her fingers and grinning like nothing had happened, blowing a cheeky kiss back. 

She shut the door behind her, her pace never slowing until she hit the lobby of the apartment complex, hesitating finally and letting everything that had just occurred wash over her. She closed her eyes, breathing speeding up, eyes pricking with tears she refused to shed. Taking a moment to regain composure and put the look of Matt’s eyes from her mind, she sighed and smiled forcibly.

Her fingers flew over the keys of her phone in a familiar pattern -- not Gale’s number, but Hope’s.

There was a possibility Matt was right all along.

Not that she would be willing to admit it to him or herself, more importantly.

[mockmade]

"Are you nervous?" ( rosalie x addison )

“Am I– Addison Gauthier, I swear to every fucking god that could possibly exist if you leave me at this altar, I will very literally kill you,” Rosalie hissed across the aisle, eyes narrowing and hands tightening around the bouquet, just barely remembering to hand it off to the maid of honor.

“I’m not nervous,” Rosalie said, suddenly, inexplicably, infinitely more nervous. “I’m not. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this,” she whispered, suddenly aware of all of the people watching them.

She looked down and smoothed her hands over the front of her dress, staring hard at the delicate white satin roses that flowed down it, steeling herself before bringing her head back up to face Addison; Addison, who stood straight and tall in her smart suit, handsome and beautiful and a million other words she couldn’t bring to mind right now as she stood in front of her, blush pretty, features glowing with ill concealed joy.

“Are you?”

[virgoheartt]

i was tagged by @dovelyhelps​ ( kisses your cheek, lizzy mcbinch ) and i’m going to tag my other bbs @candiceaccolas​ @judgywxtch​ @merrittrps​ @adsperitas​

BASICS:

name: frenchie

pronouns: she/her or they/them

sexuality: bisexual

zodiac sign: scorpio

taken/single: in love with mahself

THREE FACTS:

all my animals are named after some sort of genre, character or author

i have a heart shaped birthmark^^

i am currently wearing my birthday suit. ayyyyye.

EXPERIENCE:

how long (months/years?): almost seven years !!

platforms used: tumblr and skype, mah frends

best experience: my best experience was probably in a roleplay years ago with my best friend hannah. we had a ship that everyone loved ( and the admins even liked, legit HEARTED, the smut we wrote lmao ) and that we were really invested in and one girl even wrote me poetry !

MUSE PREFERENCES:

female or male (or otherwise): NONBINARY, NONBINARY, NO N B IN ARY. i love writing nonbinary characters. usually with female fcs bc they are so underloved in the community i feel and i also like to normalize them bc i feel a lot of writers who don’t identify with being nonbinary make their journey to realizing such an incredible piece of their backstory when 7/10 times that’s not the case.

multi or single: usually single. but i’ll occasionally write multi if i’m really feelin a character.

WRITING PREFERENCES:

fluff, angst or smut: OKAY LISTEN. Y’ALL CAN CALL OUT MY HOE ASS BC SMUT IS MY JAM. but other than that, fucking angst is my soul food ?? i literally will not stay invested in a plot if it’s not angsty. i just lose interest over time. woops.

plots or memes: both !

long/short replies: long ! literally if i get one liners i get v uninterested and move tf on lmao. #roleplayprobs

best time to write: right now ? probably whenever izzy is up tbh bc i write back and forth with her and she’s a gem lmao but in general, like late at night. my creative juices flow when i’m sleepy for some reason ????

are you like your muse(s): i put myself into my muses in little, nondramatic ways. some of them struggle or have struggled with the same things i have but i don’t write myself into them. we have similar traits but the majority of them are unique to themselves.

[mockwrites]

amuse me; break me; drink me [ Rosalie x Addison ]

i. amuse me – my muse trying to cheer yours up

“Addison,” Rosalie called, curling up her toes as she stood on the cold hardwood floor of their flat, wrapping her silk robe tighter around herself in a futile attempt to keep warm; she was still unaccustomed to the harsh Vancouver winters, missing the 50 degree Californian winters of her hometown desperately now.

Addison had her back turned towards her, facing the clock in their kitchen that read an accusatory 1:08 am, no visible response to her name being spoken. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and padding over to where she was seated at the granite island, Rosalie ran her hands up her back and over Addison’s tensed shoulders, pressing a kiss to the base of her neck. Addison all but shrugged her off and she sighed in response, dropping her hands and twining herself around her figure before taking a seat next to her.

Addison had her head in her hands, an opened bottle of cabernet sauvignon and a dangerously full cup of wine just in reach, morbid carmine in the morning darkness, a far cry from the sweeter rosé she personally favored.

“Did you just get home?” She asked gently, leaning forward in concern, a low simmer of frustration starting low in her stomach when she only received a slight nod from her girlfriend.

She sighed, reaching for Addison’s hand and pulling it away from where it shielded her face from view, intertwining their fingers and bringing them to her lips. “Did they back out of the merger?”

A long pull from the wine glass was her only answer; it was the only one she needed to confirm her suspicions.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Look at me,” she implored, squeezing Addison’s hand.

Addison took another lengthy sip of her wine. She set the glass down carefully, as if to purposefully draw out the moment, her luxurious red lipstick staining the rim, before finally straightening in her seat and turning to face her.

A fledgling of a smile fluttered to life upon her lips for the first time tonight and Rosalie hopped off her seat, inching closer to Addison, surveying her expression (which gave away nothing, as per usual) for any indication she didn’t want her near. She saw no such tells, and pressing her luck, she gave her a brief peck, pulling away but still remaining in her space, all but straddling her. “Hi,” she whispered, pressing a series of butterfly kisses, dropping Addison’s hand to run her hands through her hair, reaching up and loosening the tight bun she wore it in, gently working her fingers through her dark hair.

“You work too hard,” she accused gently, quiet and tender in these early hours in a way she wasn’t during the day, pressing in to kiss a junction between her shoulder and neck, resting her head against Addison’s, just letting her breathing fill the silence. She let the moment sit and swell before she pulled away, tugging at Addison insistently.

“Come to bed,” she offered, pouting when she didn’t stand immediately. “Come on,” she continued relentlessly. “I have a surprise for you in the bedroom,” she said, a hint of mischief upon her lips.

“Oh god. Not like that,” she said, pinking. “It’s flowers. The surprise is flowers.”

ii. break me 

Her mother didn’t approve of her current living situation, that much she made clear – come home, Rosey, you’re not a city girl; you can’t bear the winters there – every week. And she hated how true it rang, when the sun was hidden away behind foreboding clouds during lond winter days, when she missed color when everything was so white around her, when she missed having the familiarity of friends and family around her. She felt like a flower transplanted into a strange and foreign place; she only really knew Addison here – and she loved her, she did, but Addison worked long and strange hours and she was alone more often than not.

Rosalie hung up the phone when she heard Addison’s key turn in the lock, cutting her mother off mid sentence, checking the time - half past nine. It was a whole two hours after Addison had originally promised to get home; dinner sat abandoned and cold on the dining table. Her mother called again, her cellphone ringing loudly to herald Addison’s entrance into their apartment, and she turned to face her, declining the call, white knuckling over her phone.

“You’re late,” she said evenly, quietly – it threw Addison off momentarily; she must’ve been expecting a larger reaction.

“I’m sorry, Rosey,” Addison replied, genuine remorse in her tone as she slipped her heels off. “I didn’t think the meeting would run that late.”

She exhaled shakily. “You could’ve called ahead.”

Addison surveyed her warily, brow furrowing momentarily before smoothing back out. “I should’ve,” she acquiesced carefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Addison!” She yelled, frustrated, but unsure what sort of comfort she wanted to hear from her. “You shouldn’t have been fucking late! Thursday nights, we said. Thursday nights will be our night, you said – weekly standing date nights – no work!” She burst out petulantly. “This is the fifth time.”

“Rosey,” Addison said coolly, placatingly. “I’m aware of what I promised, and I am truly sorry that work got in the way of our night, but I have a company to run. I can’t just leave when I want.”

Rosalie scoffed, turning her back to the door and stalking over to the dinner table. “Rosey,” she mocked. “Some people have actual jobs to do – that’s what you’re trying to say, yeah?”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I? Am I really, Addy?”

“Yes, Rosalie, you are.”

“You know what?” She spat back acerbically, hating that Addison always retained all sense and control over every situation. “I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m blowing it out of proportion at all, because you know what? I moved here for you. I uprooted my whole life for this relationship – my mother calls every week to remind me of what a mistake I’ve made, leaving everything I have back in California to move to this miserable fucking city for a woman who won’t leave a meeting early for me!”

“Rose-”

“No! I don’t want to hear it! I hate this city, and I hate the snow, and I hate the stupid fucking ice it turns into,” she spat, throwing her phone on the couch viciously as she stormed away into their room, wiping angry tears from her eyes, tearing her clothes from the hangers and throwing it errantly on a duffel bag in the corner of their closet. “My mother was right, and I hate that you’re proving her right– god, I–” she choked, finally running of steam and succumbing to tears, curling up at the foot of their bed, willing herself to sink down into herself. Sobs ripped their way up from her throat harshly; she heard Addison pad into the room but ignored her, flinching from the gentle touch on her shoulder.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she gasped in between sobs, tears running down her face, soaking into the arms of her sweater. “I have to go,” she said frantically, not noticing the way Addison pulled her hand back like she had been burned. “I can’t do this anymore,” Rosalie muttered, more to herself than anything, getting up and wildly shoving things into the bag.

“Where will you go?” Addison asked tersely after what felt like years of silent packing, neck straining with effort of iron clad control.

“Home,” she said, and for the first time in a year, it didn’t mean their apartment, it meant away from Addison, and she ignored the visceral hurt in Addison’s eyes. “California. Away from here. God, anywhere but here.”

She snatched her phone, fled the room, fled the apartment, ran to the street and hailed a taxi to the airport; she didn’t look back until she was up in the air, looking down on Vancouver as it shrank with each passing second.

iii. drink me

“What are you doing here?” Rosalie drawled lazily, peering over her shoulder, letting anger color her tone despite how her heart beat painfully in response to the smell of her perfume. “Aren’t you in… the wrong fucking country?” She sighed, rolling her eyes and knocking back the rest of her drink. “How did you even know I would be here?”

“As unpredictable as you think you are, you always come back to the same destructive habits, Rosalie,” Addison sighed, beckoning the bartender over and asking for shots of the bar’s top shelf whiskey.

“The same ones?” She asked, too drunk and too sad to muster up any whole-hearted vitriol.

“Are you dating Aries again?”

Rosalie gestured for a refill blackly.

“So, the same destructive habits,” Addison returned sharply, a smug hint in her tone; she hated that she still found it absurdly attractive.

“Did you fly to the states just to make fun of me?” Rosalie shot back bluntly.

“I flew here to convince you to come back,” Addison said smartly, a hint of vulnerability hiding in the corners of her eyes.

“I’ll drink to that,” she sighed, knocking her glass into the fresh shot lined next to Addison. “Now, convince me fast enough that my pride can blame the alcohol for crawling back to you.”

[mockwrites]

paint me [ rosalie x addison ]

“Sit still,” Rosalie chastised, brows pinching and lips pursing, even as she tried to hold back a laugh.

She was sure that she was far from a threatening picture, what with streaks of paint in her hair from when she fussed with it out of pure habit – another streak on her cheek where Addison had run a spring pink over it just to tease her.

She held the paint brush tightly, pouting and brandishing it at Addison as she tried her best to suppress a laugh. She groaned, hand flying to her hair again, before remembering the paint still on it. “I don’t even know what came over me… I don’t know how to paint,” she grumbled, pointing the brush at Addison accusingly now. “You did some weird business psychology voodoo, right? The same neurolinguistic programming shit they use on people who are suggestible, didn’t you?”

Addison chuckled, the sound somehow managing to be as dark and rich as it was joyful and bright. “Rosey, have you any ounce of self-awareness? I think you may be the least suggestible person I have ever met.

Rosalie scowled, flicking paint at her face childishly, immediately remorseful and going to wipe the dots away with her thumb. “Whatever,” she scoffed, dropping a quick kiss onto Addison’s bare shoulder, one of the rare spots where the paint hadn’t made its way to. “I’m suggestible to you and your womanly wiles. It is what it is. Now sit still. Laughing counts as moving; do you want a masterpiece or not, babe?”

[mockmade]

"I don’t need you to forgive me. I haven’t done anything wrong." (r x a)

“Well, good then, Adds; I’m really fucking glad you don’t need my forgiveness because I won’t be giving any of it,” Rosalie answered hotly, opening their apartment door behind her and slipping off her flats with extra verve, letting Addison hover by the doorway warily. 

“You really don’t think that you’ve done anything wrong?” She asked abruptly, hands thrown up in exasperation, spinning to face her, head tilting up to meet Addison’s eyes; she hadn’t taken her heels off yet.

And there she stood: impartial to it all, not a damn thing bleeding through her tight control, hair up, jaw set, a flinty edge to her blue eyes, silent. Immovable and unwavering. 

She scoffed, half disbelieving and half disappointed, and hurt by it all. She ran a hand through her hair messily, agitating the dyed blonde of it, cheeks pinking, tears welling up in her eyes; a never-ending blur of constant motion. It was sickening, really, how much she couldn’t gauge what Addison was ever thinking, how she wore her own heart on the frayed and bloody ends of her sleeve, how much of her was constantly crawling out of her eyes and mouth; how much she very much just orbited around Addison’s calm steadfast nature – how any small disturbance would send her spinning wildly out of orbit, but always just glanced past Addison.

How above it all she always seemed.

Rosalie all but sprinted away from her, unable to hold her gaze any longer, fleeing to the kitchen, clinking glasses in their neat apartment, shoving things Addison meticulously ordered out of order.

“You’ve too much to drink,” was the only response she got from the doorway – god, had she even moved yet?

“Fuck you,” she spat, angrily wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, sloppily pouring another drink just to spite her, daring Addison to stride into her space and take it from her, but never giving her the chance to, skipping over sipping and going straight for gold by drinking it all, grimacing at the taste. “I broke up with him: I’m with you now; I’m dating you, I love you,” she rushed out. “I know you’ve had to fight for everything you have now, but he wasn’t challenging you. You didn’t have to tear him a new one, Addy.

“You’re better than him,” she conceded in a tired breath, glass settling on the marble counter with an ominous clink. “I know that, you know that, he knows that, underneath all that stupid bluster of his. You went too far.”

She could see the placating – and yes, condescending – words Addison was about to say before she’d even said anything, could see it in the raise-and-open of her hands, palms up in offering, like a trail of breadcrumbs for a bird, and the settling feeling in her own chest – damn it all – it was working like she really was a flighty creature.

But she didn’t want to hear it- not tonight. She turned the counter, stalking back towards the door and scooping her flats up, brushing past Addison. “You need to think about this. I’m staying out for the night. Don’t look for me,” she said flatly, the acerbic words burning her tongue like bile, bitter and thin and disgusting.

“Think on it,” she insisted as she walked out the door, back facing Addison and their home, using every ounce of her willpower not to turn back around.