freddve - Tumblr blog

[freddve]

freddie 📩 theodore

freddie: hey!

freddie: [...]

freddie: (this is me swallowing my pride nd messaging u first so don’t be a fuckwad)

freddie: (and dont get any ideas im just bored)

freddie: how are we? chilling-at-the-5th-circle-of-hell bad? or good enough to drink mother’s 15 yo attic wine w me?

freddie: [...]

freddie: come over?

freddie: [...]

freddie: hi

freddie: hiiiiiiiiiiiii

freddie: voulez-vous AH HAA take it now or leave it AAHHH HA now is all we get AHHHHHHH HAAAAA

freddie: nthing promised no regrets voulez-vouuus AH haa aint no big decision AHhh Ha u know what to do ahH HA

freddie: ur welcome!

freddie: text

freddie: me

[freddve]

new level unlocked: freddie 2.0

[freddve]

     freddie has — had a cat, toe nail was her name and she was her best friend. she was proud of it too; toe nail accompanied freddie to school trips, was her emergency contact and had her very own checkbook with yummy fish cartoons in the back of each page. it was a special yet strange bond like they shared one pea-sized brain, like freddie could speak in cat language or perhaps it was toe nail who spoke to freddie when they were left alone. “oh it’s just like toe!” she said after watching andy’s toys coming alive for the first time, spooking her older brother, followed by a “weirdo.” comment. but all good things must come to an end — a late night argument with mrs. golding, in reality it was no different than their usual stuff, but freddie thought she had enough, proceeding to pack her custom made l.v trunk with all the pointless shit she could get her hands on, just to leave her cornerstone behind, toe nail. eighteen days later she crawled back to the familiarity of her golden cage, partially expecting a welcoming parade from her one and only. nothing. toe nail ignored her for as long as she physically could and when freddie tried to grab her, which happened on several occassions until freddie could no longer handle the pain, toe nail would scream and shriek and meow and scratch like all seven of her lives depended on it, leaving freddie alone with the ugly truth: the bond she cherished so much was broken beyond repair. it’s been over two years since she last saw her cat, now happily living with mathilda, rubbing salt into her wound. the slight touch of arms, the toothy smiles, the nonchalant giggles; they take her back, and she doesn’t scream or shriek or meow or scratch like toe nail once did, but stares at her friend with an empty smile. vindictive and stupid, freddie called toe nail for jumping ship, but now she understands why, her heart, cracked open and bruised and mouldy, sits in front of her friend’s shoes; stupid and vindictive she feels. “no one can leave?” freddie snorts, shoulder moving only an inch to be free from the other’s contact. “gonna have to pass on that, sounds like a fucking nightmare. but you should do it,” arms folded across her chest, she begins to walk in the opposite direction, almost hoping her friend would take the hint and just leave before the soul of toe nail possesses her and she indeed starts biting and scratching and saying things she may regret later. “maybe for your next spot? could be fun.”

FOR @freddve​

“freddie!” she shouted, arms wide open as she ran up to her friend. the action was done as if it hadn’t been weeks since they last talked. weeks since antonia left without a word, cutting off all communication with someone who she’d considered her best friend. it hadn’t been personal. quite the opposite really. what she had hated the most was how content she’d become in her life. the way she could imagine herself in the beach town a year down the road. she wasn’t meant to be settled down but traveling and changing and leaving. one late night, with no thought, she packed and drove up north. this wasn’t acknowledged as she reached the other girl, but glossed over with a smile that showed every tooth. she knocked her shoulder into her’s. “i’ve been thinking. i think we should try to unionize this entire town. cause some chaos and get everything shut down for a week at minimum. no one can even leave the town. everyone has to stay inside while we riot in the streets.”

[freddve]

Lucille Clifton, from The Book of Light; “Climbing”

[freddve]

         her plan was simple — go to karaoke, unleash the real freddie and after destorying everything in sight, call it a day. now looking back, she sees how childish she’s been being: he is different, special, and breaking his heart, even with that she needs to be cautious, the same way holding a sparrow with a sprained wing, treating his wounds tenderly, hoping it would fly home on its time. being pushed from the nest, free falling to her death; now that is something freddie’s familiar with, but like a cursed monstrous creature, she’s clung to life — perhaps one too many times, always waiting patiently for the next callused palm to squeeze her heart to its last drops as one does with fresh lemons. it’s not been long since she’s last felt it, fingers around her chest, and it doesn’t take much to put two and two together: he is next. any other day she would have been on the stage, singing her heart out to some awful song and doing it worse than its glee cover too, but instead with glossy optics freddie’s body bounces between walls of meat, giggling sluggishly at every stranger she collides with as if she’s a d-list actress from a cheesy rom-com. life’s easier this way; exaggerating her intoxication level to get off scot-free and ignoring her problems until they’re pebbles in her ocean of memories. half of her vodka tonic on the floor and on her lime green frilled dress, she sees him coming long before he steps out, ‘it’s selective perception, peach,’ her sister would say, eagerly flaunting her vast psychology knowledge. she would be right too, it is selective perception, he is all she can think of, and she wants to ask him — did you feel me? i watched you all night, but no, cricket, i didn’t have the guts to come near you, i still don’t — she cracks a smile, his existence washes away her walls like the rising tides do with sandcastles and a nervous flutter finds its way to her stomach, “nice execution,” she mumbles with a mouthful of liquor as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand, purposefully keeping it there like the physical block is enough to keep the syllables from rolling out. she won’t do it — no, she won’t push him from the nest, cold and cruel and barbarous, no, he will fly once he realises she’s not worth the trouble — but she fails miserably, the urge to stay in his orbit swallows freddie whole, a fruit fly stuck in a drop of honey. “um, i don’t think so,” she shrugs, hoping the tremble in her voice doesn’t out her, “i should — i should, um, probably get home. lots of shit to do... my kitchen. it’s infested with ants. i should.. handle that. and i’m too drunk,” no, she’s not, “and i could, like, throw up on you right now. you wouldn’t like that.” she rambles on, “i often do it, yeah, i make a mess and... you shouldn’t deal with that, it’s too much work, you know, like, not worth it.” still her body refuses to move, heart in the driver’s seat, punching it then abruptly slowing down then punching it again, a never ending cycle until one of them grows tired. “um, not.. not cold but thank you, you’re..,” kind? nice? gentle? “light.” perfect too, and she means it in the best way possible, not a boring perfect, she wants to add, not like you’re a lifeless robot. “that was weird, i meant it like.. like you’re sweet. thanks for asking.” it’s time to punch it again, her gaze floats around his face and there’s the desire to close her eyes because it’s too overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, still stuck, she watches her free hand move in his direction like she’s some sort of a soul trapped in a paralysed body, “you should get inside before it’s too late, your friends must be wondering where you are.” hand hovers above his, index brushing the exposed skin for a millisecond before she shrugs, “these lovely bricks and i will be alright, don’t worry.”

Fresh off the stage after a terrible rendition of Poker Face, Cricket bobbed around the karaoke bar like a lost bottle carried by the tide, hoping to wash up on a shore somewhere that had Freddie waiting on it – to no avail, it seemed, because he couldn’t find her anywhere, only many unfamiliar faces, the occasional slap on his shoulder from a stranger commending the performance. He stopped at the bar to order a drink, though he all but forgot what he’d ordered once he bumped into someone he recognised, nodding with a smile through a couple of exchanges until he all but blurted it: “Hey, uh, sorry, like – s-sorry, just – you, uh, you s-seen s-someone with, like – like, brown, uh – b-brown hair and, like, amber kinda, like, ambery eyes – Freddie, she’s – she’s got eyes, they’re – I was, uh, with her – y’know, earlier? Like, a – a bit ago?” Before he knew it, a nod and hastily thrust thumb sent him following the clues outside, spotting her like a flare in the middle of a hedge maze, bright and unmistakable. He approached with his jacket swaddling something, extended as if to house a large belly. “Due date,” he announced, gears of his brain oiled enough by liquor to run a tad smoother, only a slight flush in his cheeks when he popped the jacket open to whoosh out his glass. “Pretty, like – y’know, uh, s-seamless delivery. No, uh – no complications, and shit. Really, like, lucky.” Cricket took a drink, blinking in noticeable shock at the taste of cranberry and – what was that, vodka? “Oh, jeez’, th-that’s, like – wow, it’s – uh… succulent, for – for sure.” Breathing out a laugh, a sheepish smile clung on by the coattails, eyes dropping from her face to slide along the floor as he itched at his temple. It felt a bit like she might’ve been avoiding him, but he didn’t know whether it was rude or not to bring that up. Besides, maybe she wasn’t. Maybe it was just him being stupid. “You’re, like – what’s, uh, g-going on… out here? Nice, like…” trailed off, reaching with a free hand to poke at one of the bricks in the wall behind her, investigating the texture. “Nice, uh, bricks… out here, so. I – I can, like, see the, like – y’know, the attraction, and shit, but. You gonna, uh – y-you gonna, like, come back in? Kinda, like – like, cold, right? Are you – shit,” he muttered, suddenly reaching to clumsily tug at his collar, attempting to begin shucking off the jacket despite the fact that it was August and, in reality, nobody sane (or sober) was wearing theirs, “are – are you, like, cold?” @freddve​

[freddve]

        “stinky milo, sweetie, you’re doing AMAZING,”​ says freddie as she performs an underwhelming copy of kris jenner’s iconic line, crossing her arms across her chest with a sour expression clinging to her lips. “i suppose you’re not used to, like, big and luxurious and elegant spaces,” eyes wander around, “because you’re homeless and low on the food chain. right?” it used to be her parents’ bedroom, not that mr. golding would ever stoop so low and set foot in irving — god knows freddie’s done her best, erasing every trace of mrs. golding from her new bedroom; ten years ago this very same place looked like a cover story of architectural digest and now… it represents freddie’s state of mind, alright. she jumps up from her burnt orange bean bag, inching towards her old nemesis, “anyway, i’m thinking.. lime green for that side,” the tequila bottle she’s clinging to like her life depends on it shakes and spills with her sudden moves, “especially over that monstrosity. fuck that. some random chick painted it and i need it gone,” her tone misses the hatred she hopes to channel and it’s painfully obvious that freddie’s aware of it too, swigging from her bottle like she’s some sort of a manic pixie dream girl written by an army of old dudes locked in netflix headquarters. “you want some?” she takes a second sip before tilting the bottle towards his face, “never have i ever imagined i would be drinking with you, especially out here of all places, but.. life is weird, so drink with me, yeah?” freddie absentmindedly fiddles with a curl, staring at half painted walls, waiting for the secrets of universe to unravel right there, right then. “and yellow. someone.. said i’m a yellow girl. don’t know what he was thinking about, really.” her face darkens as if someone’s blown out the only candle in the room, sorrow creeping through the cracked mask only for a split second before it’s glued back on and all is well with the frederica peach golding cinematic universe. “what do you say? i’m sure your taste sucks and i’ll eventually need to come up with a sexy, innovative idea, but whatever – i’m open to suggestions.” / @solitvdcs​

[freddve]

I wanna hire an evil advisor so bad. I want to pay some gay-coded little man to creep around my house saying ominous things and smirking to himself and punctuating every sentence with an evil little laugh while I pretend to be totally oblivious. And of course I ignore his evil advice, but I always have an excuse as to why, and he unconvincingly pretends to be okay with it, but later that night I hear him having an absolute meltdown in his room until he comes up with a new evil plan and bursts into a musical number that ends with maniacal laughter which continues for about 10 minutes

[freddve]

ncbodyshome​

Sometimes Cricket felt like a beat up bicycle next to Freddie’s souped up race car engine in mint condition. He didn’t want to be presumptuous – shrank in on himself like an unwatered violet whenever he made a judgement, even subconsciously – but he couldn’t imagine she’d ever been forced to comb through the grass with a stick searching for wrappers to suck the residual sugars off, probably always had clean clothes at her disposal if she wanted them. It used to make him tuck his elbows like he was perpetually sat in an aisle seat, avoiding bumps from passing strangers, simultaneously small and much too large in his smallness, like his past carried a scent she ought to plug her nose to keep from smelling – used to think it was fucking crazy, the fact she spoke to him at all, two planets on entirely different orbits – but it was difficult to feel that way when they were both sat together, both laying a hand on a chest that wasn’t theirs, feeling it’s thumps tremble up through their fingertips the same. Cricket nodded too many times, softly still, cheeks flaming at any form of contact – if it were any other situation, he might’ve turned his whole body away just to gather himself, might’ve reached up and covered his face with his hands, but he could feel her heartbeat. Or maybe everything was jittering too much and he was only imagining it, rhythmic and constant, how he’d always imagined it might feel to lie beneath a grand piano as the notes made the ground hum, enveloped whole by the song, not a person but instead, just another note on a page. Unable to think about anything but that. “N-no, it’s - it’s, like, not – n-not, uh – not weird,” he reassured, nervous chuckle parting his lips before he pressed them back together. “Your heart’s, like – g-got, like, a nice – nice, uh, n-nice, like, heart.” Eyebrows instantly knitting, Cricket wasn’t sure what the fuck kind of compliment that was. Nice heart? Made him sound like fucking Hannibal Lecter. Hopefully she didn’t think he wanted to make her skin into a lampshade or anything. As if his thoughts translated through every gesture, after that, his hand froze up, scared to make so much as a trace – he wasn’t sure how he’d stomach pressing at the ridge of a collar bone, anyway, sure to speed his pulse up enough that he had to break away and throw up in the bushes nearby. “Oh, that’s – th-that’s, like – d-don’t h-have to, like, th-thank,  uh, thank me, it’s – easy to, with you – y’know, m-make it, uh – make it k-kinda easy,” Cricket blustered, breaking with an uneasy smile, one he wasn’t particularly sure of – not that he tended to be sure of anything. He hit a record of five thank-you’s in a row as he accepted the water, gulping it down consecutively then letting out a little gasp once he realised how much he’d drank. “Oh, it’s –s-sorry, fuck, that’s, like – j-just, uh, like – s-suckled it ‘till, like, ‘till k-kingdom c-c-come – fuck,” he cringed, swiping self consciously at his mouth then blinking a few times, adjusting to the lighting. There was a phantom twitch of strobe lights in his peripheral. Or maybe that was just a fire flickering a little further off. He felt like whatever the opposite of a moth is, in that moment. Vying for a quiet place, away from the light. He studied the brown in her eyes, then looked down as the plastic crinkled in his fist, unsettled by a fidgeting thumb. Are you having fun? Almost enough to summon another lump in his throat. He swallowed around it, cleared it gently, twice, and shook his head. “Y-yeah, uh – yeah, it’s – it’s been, like – okay.” Realising halfway, he started nodding instead. “K-kinda just, like – j-just wish it was, like, us and – and, like, quiet, b-but that’s – fuck, I, uh – m-meant, uh, m-meant to… th-think that, not – n-not, uh, say it. Sys– system malf– h-hey, k-kinda sounded like I was, like – like, s-saying sis, or – Drag Race. Haven’t, uh – h-haven’t actually, like – watched, uh, w-watched… that, but–…” Pulling a face at himself, he let out another small laugh then, sucking in a breath, gathered enough nerve to lift his chin. “Sorry. I’m, like – f-fuckin’, like, t-talking shit, it’s… Night’s been okay. It’s better, uh – it’s… b-better, like… y’know,” he gave up, too flustered by it, once again averting his gaze to his lap – his eyes rested with the hands on his knees, fingers twitchy with the urge to reach out and touch, though he never quite worked up the nerve. Frozen, instead. Cricket swallowed. “You – you w-wanna, like – like, f-find a, uh, tent?” Eyes immediately wide, his face flew to catch hers. “NOT! Shit, n-not, like – like, n-not in a, like, a, uh, a weird way, or – n-not, like, weirdly, l-like – w-weird, or, y’know, wh-whatever, j-j-just – sorry,” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut like a hedgehog balled in the face of danger, unable to witness his own car crash. “Sorry. F-fuckin’, like – f-freaking out, just – sorry.” Another nervous laugh. Eyes still closed. He opened them just a slither after a few carefully paced breaths, enough that he could reach with thumb and finger and barely, delicately, hold the tip of her pinky between them, such a small gesture to anyone else but enough to stack a dozen bricks on top of Cricket’s chest. “Just – j-just mean, uh – Iike, like, talking – t-talking to… you, and… and some – some t-tents are - are empt–empty, I – I think, and… That’s, uh – that’s all – all I w-wanna… do. J-just, like – just talk and – j-just, like.. just wan – wanna hear… you, if –,” he paused, reaching up to tug in thoughtless habit at his earlobe, “if th-that’s, like… cool.”

        eyes shut, the warmth radiating from cricket’s palm stretches its branches out like liquid gold filling the cracks of her broken parts. it pushes on her insides and reaches every deserted corner like she’s a walking neon glow stick, bent at the right angle for the first time ever. embarrassing, she thinks, how a small touch from cricket sends an army of butterflies to infest her stomach, that her heart now feels light and serene enough to float away. memories flood back, her brain has drawers filled with similar scenarios — bodies pressed close to hers, grabbing and pulling, always asking for more. their touches burned her; a fragile finch lost in the sahara, not built to endure the scorching sun. with him, it’s different — comfortable and safe in his cupped hands, freddie’s relearning what it’s like to be cared for, painting over the scars with his bright yellows and oranges and greens. “this reminds me of that poem,” her hand moves just an inch, resting on its new spot above his heart, “two-headed calf and his sky with many stars.” freddie aims for an explanation behind her logic, but the more she thinks about it, the weirder it gets — can’t run around telling him she feels like they are tenderly fused together, creating one breathing, living freak of nature with twice as many hearts than usual, finding each other in the way zeus intended all along. no, not really going well with the chilling with my panicked friend situation they have going on. her laugh crackles like popping oil with his compliment, “coming from the guy with the nicest heart... it means a lot. thank you.” but she doesn’t think much of it, one thing freddie knows, her heart is like a bruised, an almost mouldy segment of a perfect clementine, the part you toss out before eating or serving because all it could ever do is to ruin the experience. glad is how she should be, happy that there’s a thick layer of skin and clothes that hide it from him. he wouldn’t like her. nobody would, her mother said so. she couldn’t throw frederica out like she did with ugly clementine segments, but made sure she knew — frederica doesn’t deserve love. ironically enough, freddie’s content with the way things work in her world, folding delicate moments like these into little origami boats, setting them free in the dried-up riverbeds of her heart. a beaming smile spreads across her face with a familiar flutter in her stomach; she has been thinking about him since the last time they were together and the thought of being alone is enough for her cheeks to turn bright crimson. soon, her blushed face is overshadowed by the giggles, “i haven’t either… maybe we should, you know, watch an episode or like, a season. together. i would be down.” a season? yeah, definitely not matching with the i’m so cool facade she hopes to pull. the corners of her lips inch up and a field of poppies bloom across her face as she nods, “hm.. ye-yeah, same.” it’s a lightning bolt of thrill zinging past her spine, find a tent — “sure,” freddie blurts, definitely too loud and too fast, without hesitation, like her life depended on their alone time. there’s no way to play it off, and she struggles to hear the rest of his explanation over her racing heart except for his laugh, as nervous as he sounds, she still wants to bottle it, listen to it on repeat like a broken record. stomach flipping with the gentle touch of his finger, freddie’s heart buoys through her chest, unable to contain her smile, dripping with delight. “you’re right, we– we should,” maybe her neighbours aren’t so terrible after all, with their dark green tent shining like a lighthouse, empty and ready for them to claim it. not sure if he’s ready to brave the crowd, she hesitantly holds the tips of his fingers while rising to her feet. the old freddie would be going through it, replaying all the possible scenarios and planning her escape route in case of an emergency, overthinking about the tightness in her chest and bailing at the last minute, leaving cricket all alone in her neighbours tent. this new and slightly improved freddie’s not so different — she finds herself worrying about what he means by weird, and the fact she’s probably reading too much into things, getting her hopes up or whatever. still, ignoring all that future pain comes easier as she folds her fingers into his with an awkward smile and a gaze in his direction, hoping for his approval. is this okay? “that one,” freddie points with her free hand, “is empty. and looks relatively bigger than the rest, must be comfortable.” another nervous laugh fills the empty space between them, “i don’t want to, like, remind you of it, but i have to ask — are you feeling better?” with furrowed brows she elbows a stranger, shoving and pushing until the small gathering area is parted like the red sea for their short journey. “i wanted to call you after our...” the word date sits on the tip of her tongue as if she’s about to ruin this almost-perfect moment before it even blossoms, “but wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.” freddie lightly squeezes his hand, digging herself a deeper grave like she’s trying to make it harder on herself, the pain — it’s going to be unbearable when this ends in flames. “either way, i’m happy to be here with you.” turning her head, hazel eyes try to meet his for a split second before faltering, losing the remaining confidence she’s stored. “thank you.”

[freddve]

andromeda | weyes blood

andromeda’s a big, wide open galaxy nothing in it for me except a heart that’s lazy

[freddve]

freddie 💌 antonia

antonia: whatever comes to us in the moment....

antonia: we should start an improv club!!!!! think of how good wed be at that nd the way wed rise to fame quickly!!!

antonia: you might as well add yourself in that.....i wouldn't want to have sex with them if you weren't there !!! thats what friendship is all about

antonia: the only answer is lightning mcqueen....kachow!!!! i think i would marry owen wilson

freddie: hm im not feeling the fame rn u become the it girl nd i'll be the puppetmaster. toddlers & tiaras vibes

freddie: so sexy and sickening at the same time i love it

freddie: toooo fucking busy getting railed by sully, bestie but u do u with ur 3some!

freddie: i want owen wilson to run over me w his cute lil bike. such a meet cute!!!

freddie: hmm sleeping on my mans doc? fine more for me!

[freddve]

        “stinky milo, sweetie, you’re doing AMAZING,”​ says freddie as she performs an underwhelming copy of kris jenner’s iconic line, crossing her arms across her chest with a sour expression clinging to her lips. “i suppose you're not used to, like, big and luxurious and elegant spaces,” eyes wander around, “because you’re homeless and low on the food chain. right?” it used to be her parents’ bedroom, not that mr. golding would ever stoop so low and set foot in irving — god knows freddie’s done her best, erasing every trace of mrs. golding from her new bedroom; ten years ago this very same place looked like a cover story of architectural digest and now... it represents freddie’s state of mind, alright. she jumps up from her burnt orange bean bag, inching towards her old nemesis, “anyway, i’m thinking.. lime green for that side,” the tequila bottle she’s clinging to like her life depends on it shakes and spills with her sudden moves, “especially over that monstrosity. fuck that. some random chick painted it and i need it gone,” her tone misses the hatred she hopes to channel and it’s painfully obvious that freddie’s aware of it too, swigging from her bottle like she’s some sort of a manic pixie dream girl written by an army of old dudes locked in netflix headquarters. “you want some?” she takes a second sip before tilting the bottle towards his face, “never have i ever imagined i would be drinking with you, especially out here of all places, but.. life is weird, so drink with me, yeah?” freddie absentmindedly fiddles with a curl, staring at half painted walls, waiting for the secrets of universe to unravel right there, right then. “and yellow. someone.. said i’m a yellow girl. don’t know what he was thinking about, really.” her face darkens as if someone’s blown out the only candle in the room, sorrow creeping through the cracked mask only for a split second before it’s glued back on and all is well with the frederica peach golding cinematic universe. “what do you say? i’m sure your taste sucks and i’ll eventually need to come up with a sexy, innovative idea, but whatever – i’m open to suggestions.” / @solitvdcs​

[freddve]

FREDERICA PEACH GOLDING and LOVE.

“not a red rose or a satin heart. i give you an onion. it is a moon wrapped in brown paper. it promises light like the careful undressing of love. here. it will blind you with tears like a lover. it will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief. i am trying to be truthful. not a cute card or a kissogram. i give you an onion. its fierce kiss will stay on your lips, possessive and faithful as we are, for as long as we are. take it. its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring, if you like. lethal. its scent will cling to your fingers, cling to your knife.”

[freddve]

FREDERICA PEACH GOLDING and FAMILY.

“if you love me, you don’t love me in a way i understand.”

[freddve]

Zendaya photographed by Mark Leibowitz for HBO’s ‘Euphoria’.

[freddve]

freddie 💌 antonia

antonia: some nice tag teaming action ;)

antonia: hahahahaha yea that is such a brilliant idea.....peace suddenly means war.....white flag signals fighting..........it'll all be very juicy for us as we r revered as we should have been a long time ago

antonia: oh we're going to do a movie night it's just about a bugs life but animated.....they didnt have to make the bugs look that good

antonia: um no way its mike wazoski i mean he had that snake haired girlfriend after all......how i yearn to be in a threesome with them...

antonia: like the area 51 raid but better

freddie: we dont hv to practice. its even better if we play it by ear. deffo sexier.

freddie: 👁👄👁

freddie: umm ok toni u do u. im so like the queen nd saviour samantha jones. i dnt judge.

freddie: oh............ let me jst....get on my notes app.....suddenly inspired fr a 3some smut.... y/n x mike x snake girlie

freddie: checked nd her name is celia. mitolia supremacy!

freddie: we will be like sisters😍 sully & mike have that sibling vibe goin on fr them...yay

freddie: the area 51 raid flopped so hard. we're soooo much better omg

freddie: choose one from cars?

[freddve]

feltlight​

          as    gentle    as    the    breeze    was,    every    second    he    absorbed    a    hit    from    it    impounded    aches    in    his    body    that    he    could    only    assume    had    been    subconsciously    caused    by    freddie.    there’s    safety    &    then    there’s    fear    all    in    the    same    breath    as    sint’s    gaze    shifts    towards    her     ––     cataclysmic    impact    of    her    words    imprinting    little    golden    tattoos    across    the    length    of    his    body.    she    scares    him    (    or    maybe    he’s    scared    of    himself    &    how    lost    in    the    moment    he    could    get    around    her    ).    question    rises    &    sint    doesn’t    have    an    answer    that    he    could    formulate    properly.    how    could    anyone    not    be    obsessed    with    her    ?    shoulders    rise    then    fall    slowly,    head    tilting    yet    again    so    he    could    focus    on    the    clouds    more.        “      you’re    so    fucked    up    for    that.      "        comment    is    murmured    with    a    smile    holding    its    hand,    accompanying    such    disbelief    in    a    way    that    doesn’t    showcase    offense.    her    touch    makes    eyes    roll,    own    hands    lifting    to    swat    hers    away    only    gently    as    sint    tries    to    hold    back    the    laugh    that’s    been    building    in    the    back    of    his    throat    for    several    moments    now.        "      lions    are    adorable,    too.    why    can’t    i    be    both    ?      "        freddie’s    personal    preference    is    something    life - affirming,    something    positive    &    light.    although    predictable,    it    still    shocked    sint    to    hear    her    talk    about    herself    in    such    a    low    key    way.    brows    lift,    curiosity    an    inevitable    pull    on    features    that    were    never    under    his    control    whenever    he    was    within    her    presence.        "      what    if    someone    stepped    on    you    ?    that’s    no    fun.    or    maybe    someone    would    pull    a    beauty    &    the    beast,    put    you    in    a    glass    case    &    you’d    live    forever    until    your    petals    dipped    on    their    own.      ”

            she   is   grateful   to   him,   radiating   with   such   warmth   and   light   that   he   melts   the   knots   in   her   heart.   life   feels   easier   with   sint,   all   those   years   of   stumbling   and   falling   and   crawling   on   her   knees   are   just   nightmares   not   worth   recalling   —   freddie’s      found   her   lighthouse;   away   from   the   storm   she   sails,   moving   past   the   fog   and   the   crashing   waves   to   his   safe   arms.   her   grin   splits   wide   and   she   wiggles   her   eyebrows,   a   shrug   moves   past   her   shoulder,   “yeah,   right…   i’m   like   a   human   lie   detector,   i   sense   shit.   i   know   how   you   feel   about   me,”   she   instantly   regrets   her   choice   of   words   —   keep   it   light   and   fun,   she   says   to   herself,   but   the   heaviness   has   already   settled   across   her   chest,   crushing   her   from   within.   it   stuns   her   like   she’s   been   hollering   voldemort's   name   in   hogwarts’   hallways,   like   she   broke   their   secret   pact   on   accident.   she   doesn’t   allow   herself   to   think   about   him   aside   from   their   usual   hang-outs,   locking   that   part   of   her   brain   and   heart   and   swallowing   the   key   until   the   next   time   she   sees   him.   it’s   more   manageable   that   way,   freddie   thinks,   spoiler   alert   —   it’s   not,   but   she   would   rather   play   dumb   than   listen   to   her   heart.      a   puckish   laugh   barks   out   of   freddie   after   a   moment   of   silence,   nodding.   “ALRIGHT,   you   win,   damn.   be   honest   –   are   you   crushing   on   nala?   simba?   what’s   up   with   this   lion   obsession?”   still   wearing   her   grin,   she   leans   on   her   friend,   tucking   her   legs   under   to   the   side,   elbow   gently   resting   on   his   chest.   now   she   has   a   better   view   (   of   him   ),   not   that   she’s   gazing,   no   –   hazels   are   glued   to   his   hoodie   as   her   free   hand   fiddles   with   the   string.   “i   suppose   you’re   right…   i   don’t   want   some   loser   to   yank   me   for   their   girlfriend   either,   ew,”   freddie   continues   haltingly,   a   peal   of   soft   laughter   fills   the   space   between   them,   “hm,   the   beast   is   a   half-lion,   isn’t   he?   he   reminds   me   of   one   anyway,   so   maybe   in   another   life,   you   can   keep   me.”   she   scrunches   her   nose,   “but   don’t   be   a   bore   like   the   beast   and   don’t   lock   me   in   a   fucking   room,   alright?   showcase   me—   fuck   mona   lisa,   i’m   the   real   masterpiece.   of   course,   i   wouldn’t   be   there   to   remind   you   of   your   awful   personality,”   an   impish   giggle   floods   out   of   her   and   she   taps   an   index   finger   on   the   tip   of   his   nose.   “i   would   be   like…   a   reminder..   of   how   beautiful   life   is.   you   know   me,   i’m   a   ray   of   fucking   sunshine   and   all.   deal?”   

[freddve]

freddie 💌 antonia

antonia: mayb ill start a career as a sugar mommy....u will always be my number one no need to worry

antonia: oh wow.....shocked....awed......amazed....humbled by ur beautiful mind..........

antonia: yeah we could say like hi means bye that would really throw them off.....say shrek means sexy....that kind of thing....

antonia: speaking of sexy cartoons which bugs from the bugs life is hottest

antonia: already worrking on manifesting it!!!! every shooting star i see that's my wish

freddie: you cn use my bank account to start ur career as a sugar mommy😋

freddie: ill take everything nice nd positive nd replace them w terrible shit so when others try to maintain peace its gnna sound like they're cussing

freddie: oh toni ur so shrek!

freddie: whats......that

freddie: sorry💔i only watch oscar films. tell me more abt the shrekest one from cars. or monsters inc. we all know its sully. it has to be sully.

freddie: its meant to be!!!! ill create a facebook group as our starting point. gotta recruit minions fr the cause