𝙜𝙤��𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝘣𝘰𝘺tell me what it's like 𝘵𝘰 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙧.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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he flashes césar a wide grin as he's recognized, but his attention returns soon to the scene before them. he's a little high and a lot distracted, but the escalating argument catches his interest in that curious way only drama can. tate tilts his head, squinting slightly at the two strangers, not sure whether he's trying lip read or distinguish snippets of their conversation against the song playing in the background. "probably something petty, right?" tate muses. "you might be right about the love triangle— people are always so dramatic about that stuff. but hey, who knows? could just be a bad day for both of 'em." it’s easy to say when you see the best in people, and he nudges césar with a shoulder. "you think someone's gonna throw a punch?"
。:゜᪤。 event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @luckmagnets :
He should place a bet, or grab his camera. The interaction between those two strangers was escalating quickly enough: conversation to discussion to maybe-a-fight?, and César had no idea about how to act. It wasn’t his business anyway, too high to even think about himself and how the fuck am I going home again?, he should not bother about others. He should, however, try to find his camera. “ Do you think it’s something personal like,” He started saying to the wind, aware of the company beside him but not enough to remember who it was. “ You cheated on me with my wife, or something very boring like baseball? ” Finishing the water inside his cup, César looked to his left, blinking slowly – and very confusingly – at Tate. “ Oh, hey. It’s you. ”
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heart's beating fast enough to make his ribs ticklish, and the sight of her face nearly stuns him into a brief silence—her eyes shine even brighter than the glitter catching in the corners. it's dazzling but unsurprising that indigo glows, incandescent as ever in a space that dulls in comparison. the smile that quirks up his lips is almost instinctive, and who is he to leave her hanging? "why, miss miller, i do declare it'd be my honor." tate's always had a knack for meeting people where they are, sunlight melting through glass to flood whatever space its welcome in, and so her southern drawl is matched with one of his own. ( albeit, a terrible one. ) the joint gets tucked behind his ear with practiced flair, fingers free now to extend toward her in gallant offering— palm up, steady as anything despite the current tap dance in his chest. "careful now."
she's a burst of sparkles, coruscating around the room as if she's her own light source, kaleidoscopic in her movements. everything she touches seems to shimmer, vibrating with energy - or maybe it's just the trail of glitter she leaves in her wake. indigo finds herself in compromising positions more often than not, tonight being no exception as she perches languidly atop a pile of records, limbs gracefully crossed despite their expanse & her less than stable seating arrangements. & her heart does a hop, skip & jump! at the feeling of his fingers brushing against her shoulder, knows who is beside her purely on scent alone. "why mr albrecht, you certainly are a man after my own heart!" she speaks in a feigned southern drawl ( one which she'll most definitely regret later when she's lying in bed replaying the events of the evening .) "lead the way!"
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𝙒𝙃𝙊 : closed for @hctbxed . 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 : event 001 — in celebration.
it's a unique sort of lightheadedness, isn't it? when your heart does that quiet little trip over itself, not tossing you enough to knock you over, but just dizzying enough to make you notice the floor. tate's been fine all night, thank you very much, but now that the party's hit a little lull—pizza congealing on paper plates, soda gone flat, you sexy thing threatening another comeback—his eyes can't help but wander back to her. they've been doing that a lot recently, haven't they? it's embarrassing just how much courage it takes ( he's never really needed to will it to be, has he? ) for him to sidle over to her, finger lifting up to tap on the blonde's shoulder, gentle and hesitant. "hey. you busy?" obviously not, idiot, tate chides internally as he lifts a joint between two fingers and offers the most casual smile he can manage. "rooftop? we can share."
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𝙒𝙃𝙊 : closed for @applecrumb . 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 : event 001 — in celebration.
the party is alive ( and a little sticky; for someone's spilled orange soda on the grimy carpet ), the pizza is almost out, and the smiths are crooning about charming men again. tate's in a good mood as he weaves through the warm haze of laughter to find the person he's been looking for all evening, and when he spots her, his gentle pace breaks out into an unnecessary jog to cross the rest of the cramped little space. "tilly!" oh, joy, new and fresh, voice instilled with enough warmth to make a stranger think he hasn't seen his best friend in years when it's really only been a few hours since hearing her voice last. he doesn't bother with hellos— why greet someone you never intend to say goodbye to?—and simply reaches for her hand, already halfway tugging her toward the emptier center of the room. "we're dancing!"
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𝙒𝙃𝙊 : closed for @soulstctic . 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 : event 001 — in celebration.
he's standing next to the turntable, flicking through a stack of vinyls. his fingers hover in hesitation for a moment—helping pick music to play is a slippery slope that can quickly end in the entirety of staff levying their opinions. brown eyes flicker up, scanning the room before they land on naomi. eyes crinkle at the corners, lips turning up in a grin as he waves her over. "alright, nomes, you're the expert here." he raises an eyebrow. "what's next? we've already cranked up talking heads a few times, and i don't think anyone's ready for another round of duran duran just yet. any ideas that'll get this place moving again?" tate nudges her playfully, gesturing towards the collection he has spread out on the table.
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𝙒𝙃𝙊 : closed for @orphvc . 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 : event 001 — in celebration.
tires squeal a little as tate slides into the parking spot. it's a perfect, almost too perfect squeeze, the blue drop top glistening between two beat-up cars. he can practically feel the other car slowing down behind him— they were in a race to the lot whether the other driver knew it or not —bright grin on his face as he slings his door open with all the confidence of someone who knows they've just won a small, petty battle. "better luck next time," he calls out, though the teasing is affectionate as he recognizes clementine's ride, smile still stupidly plastered across his face. tate leans against his car, arms crossed as he waits for her to drop her car off elsewhere.
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To the Wonder 我的阿勒泰 (2024) — Episode. 3
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STEVE HARRINGTON & ROBIN BUCKLEY STRANGER THINGS, 4.02
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THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY (2022—) 1x02: Summer Dress
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sugar buddy: your totally platonic rich friend who gives u expensive gifts
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sorry for being so alluring and entrancing it’s not my fault
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