❀ 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧[cismale]..[23 years old]..[demi/heterosexual]..[honey oat latte]..[location: his house]..[mentions: tag]..[tags: seon]..────────────────────────────────────────Avery quite appreciated Seon's sunshine attitude. He had a quirky side to him, with a goofy, boyish smile, and energy that was certainly uplifting, though not overwhelming; Avery didn't feel like he had just been whacked with a load of unhandled chaos. He'd experienced a wide range in different personalities and character traits over his past few years as a student desperate to share rent fees with, and he was genuinely curious to discover more about Seon. Avery hadn't ever been a bubbly social butterfly, and although it took him a bit to really settle into a new situation, he already felt less nervous about this whole situation. Maybe it was because of the mellow, carefree vibe Seon gave off, or maybe it was something else. That fact that he certainly wasn't a pureblood Thistlewood-citizen, maybe? Or maybe Avery was just overstepping boundaries when he thought that; an accent didn't mean anything. He was still hemming and hawing over whether to say something about that or not.
That small smile had returned back onto Avery's thin lips as Seon's theatrical actions.
"I mean, that's a blood brilliant idea," he chimed in, really rolling the words off his tongue, as if he was genuinely considering it.
"It would certainly make the place seem a bit more open." For whatever reason, and maybe it was a terribly cruel thing to accept into his mind, but Avery really could picture Seon as a rather sloppy artist. Something about his boyish charm gave off a perfect visual of whipped paint; the furniture would have a new coating before the walls themselves would. Avery himself was deliberate with that sort of thing, although he preferred a canvas over an entire wall. Not that he could do anything about the glum walls, anyway.
As soon as Seon had wiggled his way in, Avery slid close to the doorframe, just far enough in that he could place the box he had been carrying onto a part of the floor that was considered to be in the bedroom and not the hallway. This was Seon's room now, he wasn't going to barge in. Not that he'd do that anyway; Avery had honestly avoided the room since the last move-out. It wasn't officially his, so apart from some here-and-there cleaning, it was left unattended, waiting impatiently for its next roommate to love it and dazzle it up.
"As long as the feelin's mutual," he returned, quirking a brow.
"I've lost, what, three roommates already? Says something about me, eh?" There was a gentle bitterness to his tone, enough for it to appear more sarcastic than anything else. Of course, Avery had indeed gone down the "what have I been doing wrong?" path multiple times, but at the end of the day, he hadn't ever let it
really get to him. Things happened, life went on.
His chocolate-brown eyes flitted towards the window, which was covered by a thin cloudy-grey drape, then back to a beaming Seon.
"There're lotsa small shops downtown. Coffee shops, 'specially. Tons of 'em." His head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side, and he crossed his arms comfortably across his chest.
"So I hope you're a coffee addict," he added a moment later, letting a tiny sly smile of his own whisk across his features for a brief second.
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♡ 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐚[cisfemale]..[21 years old]..[heterosexual]..[strawberry lemonade]..[location: starbucks]..[mentions: tags]..[tags: ivy, aspen]..────────────────────────────────────────Maybe it was just the rush of events that seemed to finally hit Morgan, or perhaps she had been more anxious about this entire situation than originally believed, but the second she approached the girl in the cheery yellow shirt, she felt exhausted. The adrenaline inside of her hit a low, as if was the sun, scooped up and overrun by smoky grey clouds. Morgan had always been very thankful about one thing in terms of her physical appearance, and that was the fact that while she was rather pale, she didn't often show dark circles under her eyes. It just hit her mentally; she stiffened a yawn, then felt bad. It wasn't because she was bored, but the excitement from arriving in a new state to the anxiety about losing her place and struggling to find a new room wiped her out. Her eyes, which had skitted towards the window, attempting to check up on Tigger ─ this was difficult because the windows were a bit tinted and he wasn't something like a big dog ─ before snapping back into it. Letting out a small giggle, mostly because she was embarrassed by her random zone-in-zone-out moment, she shot Ivy a sweet, apologetic smile.
"I'm, like, such a terrible person right now, but do you mind if I just run and grab a coffee or something?" she asked, taking a tiny step back.
"It's just that I was on a plane a few hours ago and I haven't really gotten much sleep, and now it's really starting to hit me. I was going to offer to get you something but..." Her voice trailed off and she nodded quickly to the cup that was already nestled into the palms of the young woman's hand.
"Two seconds, I promise!" At that, Morgan sent her yet another smile, then turned and headed up to the barista, who was currently awaiting their next order.
"Hi! A grande strawberry açaí, please; light ice, if possible." She paid, then stepped back, fishing for her phone. Her camera was somewhere in her car, lightly packed with the rest of her things, so the phone's camera would have to work. Angling it, she snapped a few pictures, praying one would be good enough for either her blog or her Instagram. Without checking, she tucked the device back in her small purse, then shuffled closer to the side. There were a few orders ahead, she noticed, so Morgan quickly selected one of the pictures she took, uploading it to Instagram;
Finally made it into Thistlewood. In love already<3She posted it with a hum of approval, then stepped back, back nearly touching the wall. Her eyes roamed as she waited, landing on a pretty girl with reddish-brown hair. Something she was wearing caught Morgan's attention immediately.
"Oh my gosh!" she stepped closer, bending slightly forward to admire the rose-gold necklace, equipped with a delicate pearl, that was clipped around the stranger's neck.
"Sorry... I don't mean to be weird," she continued a second later, backing up slightly with yet another giggle.
"Your necklace is just really pretty."───────
◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐮𝐤𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐯[cismale]..[22 years old]..[bisexual]..[caffè mocha]..[location: sidewalk]..[mentions: tag]..[tags: nyxalia]..────────────────────────────────────────Even though it was May, and you could certainly feel the warmth of the late spring air, Daniel found himself still puffing out a breath of air, half-expecting to see a cloud of his breath float out in front of him in return. Of course, nothing happened. If it wasn't so dreary out, he might even say it was nice. The air was a bit thick, muggy, and it would be difficult to breathe in if one were to spend all day outside, but Danny had stuff to attend to later. It was a nice start; the walk was a nice beginning to his day.
"We have been living in a town filled with coffee shops," he continued, keeping both his face and his tone as solid and plain as possible.
"It's a classic move, buying a croissant with a warm beverage." He wasn't here to judge, though; Daniel, in all honesty, did sometimes find himself following the opposite of the "don't judge a book by its' cover" line, especially on his bad days, but that didn't always last. Even with that, he certainly hadn't often found himself judging what people were into food-wise. Why did that matter? So even if Nyx really wasn't into trying new foods, or simply didn't ever find the flaky, buttery treat appealing, he didn't care. Everyone had different opinions on different things.
He took another sip of his iced coffee, appreciating the cool fluids against his slightly dry throat. Perhaps the mugginess had taken a toll on him after all, or maybe it was just the talking. Daniel didn't often feel nervous talking to people, though, no matter who they were, and he didn't feel any anxiety now, so he took a wild guess and told himself that the lack of fluids he had after his morning jog was turning back around to nip at him now. He swirled the ice cubes around in his plastic cup once again, appreciating the jingle-like sound they made when they clunked against one another.
"You don't need to lend me anything," he chuckled. The offer was unusual to hear, but warming all the same. Daniel was pretty sure the only offer like that he'd gotten was from Olivia, who had offered him her ballcap back when she was around four or five. Sweet, innocent little Olivia.
His dark eyes flitted down to her once again, then skimmed over her car, before putting his arms out, as if he was about to get a body scan by a security guard.
"Nothing to hide here," he told her.
"Just my keys and wallet. I don't live very far away, so even if we did a lap, I could probably just drop it off there." His eyes settled against her own gaze once more, serious.
"Because I'm getting that umbrella," he insisted.
"It'll be a lot better than that hat, promise you that much." He waited until she had gotten ─ or gotten rid of ─ what she needed from her car, then turned and slowly began to follow her once she started up again.
For a moment, Daniel remained silent, listening to the rumbling of motors as multiple different cars drove past.
"Didn't know that," he told her earnestly. Danny hadn't ever been much of a sweets person, not towards the "typical" stuff like candies or chocolate bars, so he truthfully didn't realize that cinnamon was actually half-decent, if she was being serious. She didn't let a laugh slip, so he suspected she meant it well. He found himself speeding up once again, just slightly; she was only maybe six inches shorter than he was, so it wasn't like his strides were unbearable in comparison to her own, but he was still mindful of the speed he went at.
"Cool," he grinned.
"I had to do a lot of the cooking when I lived with my parents, although I wasn't the greatest at baking. So you should definitely show me some stuff sometime." Was that being too forward? It wasn't like he was inviting her to move in with him or anything.
"If you're into that stuff, you should bake for the festival that's coming up. I see a lot of people who bake a ton of stuff and sell them off."He stopped at the stoplights, the same set of lights where Nyxalia had first sent him a text message, and pressed a button, waiting for the lights to turn so he and Nyx could safely cross the street. While he waited, he let his eyes rest on her once again.
"Nobody's judging," he assured her with a shrug.
"I can't pronounce it properly either; born to everything Russian and Ukraine, but missed out on the terrible accent they all have. Probably for the best." For a fleeting second, a thought along the lines of,
The only people who'd judge would be my parents, but you won't ever have to worry about that slipped up, but he crinkled his nose and disregarded it, allowing Nyxalia to step forward once the lights changed colours.
"What's your favourite thing to bake?"