peachwrites - Tumblr blog

[peachwrites]

❛  you deserve better than who i am right now, but i'm gonna keep trying to become someone you do deserve.  ❜ ( from the pining/yearning memes ) Guildford @ Jane, maybaps?

"Guildford, I..." What was she supposed to say to something like that? Of all the times they'd bickered and bantered, all the times they hadn't seemed to see quite eye to eye, she hadn't expected to love him. This marriage hadn't been something she'd wanted, and yet now she couldn't imagine spending a single day without him by her side.

"You don't get to decide who or what I deserve." Reaching up to rest her hand on his face, she smiled. "Only I can decide that. And I choose you."

[peachwrites]

Cake Eater

By Allyson Dahlin.

“Are you afraid?” “What do you mean?” “Well, I was about to ask you not to.” “You know it’s true.” “The entire kingdom doesn’t need a live update of our progress.” “It was sweet of you.” “Do you like to dance?” “We really can’t talk about it.” “Won’t you come with me?” “Someone is always listening.” “What the hell?” “There is little you have to remember or say.” “Are you ready?” “Really? That’s highly unusual.” “That’s why you shouldn’t watch it.” “I just saw something weird there.” “You’ll take a lot of pictures?” “This silence isn’t the norm for you. What’s the matter?” “It should all get easier after tonight.” “You’re being rude.” “I don’t know what I like.” “Too tired to do your duties, it would seem.” “I don’t understand why you’re upset.” “Do you think that because you are hundreds of miles away you can lie to me?” “Do you like to ride?” “Did you sleep all right?” “I just want them to like me, but I’m not sure that they do.” “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.” “Thanks so much for taking the time to bring me out here.” “And I’m going home.” “Then how do they know?” “You’re really serious?” “What’s happening?” “I believe you’ll find I can make whatever changes I wish.” “You look like a kid threw up after getting let loose in a candy store.” “It’s not a trick question.” “What do you mean?” “I thought you looked nice.” “Tell me what happened.” “How did you do it?” “Well, those people are making me very upset.” “What kind of things?” “What did you have in mind?” “Do you miss them?” “Can’t catch a break, can we?” “Do you think we could be lonely together?” “You won’t mind if we borrow them?” “You’d know all about that, I suppose.” “I can be most delicate when I wish.” “Say you’ll accept, of course.” “Can’t even get it up, can you?” “Your education was likely not sufficient.” “What are you talking about?” “I wasn’t done with my lesson.” “Why should I trust you?” “Speak of this to no one.” “They don’t want you to know.” “Then think how much good it will do.” “Well, this advice does not seem to be working.” “Have you seen this film?” “You must be cold.” “Why were you outside in the storm?” “Please don’t cry. I like you.” “I don’t even care anymore. I want people to stop talking about us.” “Have you considered chilling out?” “I’d just as soon have tofu instead.” “I think you’ll be fine from here.” “You must be really warm under that mask.” “I don’t know how to dance. Maybe you could show me.” “It’s simply a tradition we have here.” “Thank you so much for attending my birthday party.” “You might be funnier, but I’m more charming.” “You can kiss me if you wish.” “It could be fun if you relax a bit.” “I see rotation in the cloud patterns. There could be a tornado.” “How did you find me?” “I needed to get my dog.” “Don’t you think it’s kind of creepy?” “Sorry, I need a minute.” “I’m not sure whether I want to kiss you or punch you.” “You’re really far from useless.” “You really think the answer to that is yes?” “You don’t want to go see them?” “My dreams aren’t any of your business!” “Who gave me them?” “Good thing I’m not dying out here.” “You’re an asshole.” “You think he’s playing me?” “How come you didn’t just tell me about it?” “You’re pulling my hair out.” “Do you want me to help you spread cute things?” “Never knew you were so sneaky.” “Doesn’t matter, since I’m not really going to go.” “Do we really have to sit through over an hour of this?” “One can’t wear the same piece too often or it falls out of fashion.” “Nothing of mine is shut off from you.” “Did I satisfy you?” “I’m sure something can be arranged.” “You’ve been watching me the whole time.” “I know you’re good at keeping secrets.” “Try not to stun them too much. You already look amazing.” “To hell with what they want!” “But I must have access to these books.” “I thought you weren’t going to run from them.” “I don’t think we have a choice.” “How could they do this?” “It’s a weird life we had.”

[peachwrites]

SOPHIE TATCHER in

MAXXXINE (2024)

[peachwrites]

If there was any word that could describe Jane best it was curious. Ever since she was a child she seemed desperate to learn everything there way to know about anything. Local flora, diseases, astronomy. Any topic she could find a book about would grab her interest. But as she grew older and the novelty of fantasies wore away, Jane became rather restless. She was already close to completing an encyclopedia of all the local herbs and how to use them for medicinal purposes, and now she was desperate for her next adventure.

Amidst her time helping women heal various ailments, she’d heard enough gossip to know what the people of the town were talking about. There was always drama, forbidden lovers, gambling debts, or whatever scandalous behaviors went on among humans. But lately, there had been a reoccurring theme.

Though all the tales shared similar pieces, no one in town could seem to agree on a solid conclusion. Half the townsfolk were easily startled, swearing up and down that a demon lurked among them. One that desired to eat their young and feast upon the souls of the innocent. Another large chunk of people believed there to be the presence of angel, some otherworldly being sent to protect the village from harm. Both sounded rather ridiculous to Jane, a woman dedicated to scientific answers.

Both seemed ridiculous to her, but there had to be a sliver of truth to it if it had so many people believing it. A monster lurking in the shadows was just as likely as a celestial being guarding their homes, which was to say not at all. But she would never know for sure unless she investigated it herself.

Following some of the tales she’d heard, Jane left her window unlocked one night, propped open by a small stack of books. If it were a demon of some kind, surely it could not resist such a reckless human mistake. And if it were the angel people claimed shielded them from harm, it might come along and close her window as an act of kindness. Either way, she was determined to stay awake and get to the bottom of things.

Or at least she had been, until the moon rose high in the sky and her eyelids grew heavy.

She isn't sure how long she had fallen asleep for. The shift from stillness is what wakes her. Not a sound, not a smell or something palpable. Just a feeling. A foreboding sense of peculiarity that seemed to shake her from a slumber. Groggy and confused, Jane peeked open one eye, curious to see how long she had before the morning light began to spill forth. Instead of seeing rays of light, however, she saw a face. A rather ethereal face, too.

An angel. It was her first thought, even though logic told her it was unlikely.

“Who are you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes locked into him. “What are you?”

open to fem muses. 1800s time period. asmodeus is a vampire lord that lives in the castle overlooking a small village, but no one knows who or what he is. it is rumored that a monster lives there and comes down to the village at night to eat. other rumors say that it is an angel that protects the village. regardless, your muse decides to test these rumors by leaving their window open for him.

the thirst that comes with his curse once again gets the better of him, forcing him to leave the seclusion of his home and step onto the quiet street of the sleeping village. moonlight spills across the cobblestone, yet it pales in comparison to the silvery hair that fall perfectly around his pallid face. a gentle breeze rolls through, sending a few orange leaves scattering, which tells him everything he needs to know. summer has come to an end. and as a result, the windows in the village will be kept closed at night. thus, denying him access inside.

the further down the cobblestone street he walks, the more dread he feels. not a single open window. he just needs one human, that's all. just so he could survive the winter, since human blood satiates him the longest. but when all hope seems lost, he spots one window with its shutters open and its curtains drawn. wasting no time, he climbs up, stands on the roof by the open window, and peers inside with his one good eye.

the room is completely dark, except for the bed which bathes in moonlight. upon the bed lies a woman, asleep, with her head tilted to the side at just the right angle that allows her neck to be exposed. just for him, he thinks selfishly as he approaches. but he pauses once he is at her bedside, unable to look away from her blissful face despite her exposed neck practically begging to be bitten. he's never seen a human as pretty as this one before. and before he could stop himself, he reaches up to brush a strand of her hair out of the way so that he may see her beauty in full.

[peachwrites]

"Yeah, just a bit." She smirked, leaning back to assess the damage. Whoever had taken their fists to Dwight's face had some pent up anger, and Min was glad she hadn't been on the receiving end of the blow. But she did feel bad for him. Especially when he looked liked a wounded puppy. Compared to the others, Dwight was tolerable. He reminded her of the dogs she used to feed as a child, scraggly and pathetic. "Want me to kick their butt for you?"

“ somebody hit you ? ” from feng min ~

@peachwrites | FENG MIN

Dwight sported a black and blue eye, the frames of his glasses bent and broken where they sat upon the bridge of his nose. Aches and pains surged beneath his skin, and his features seemed red and puffy as if he had been crying sometime earlier. He wasn't terribly good with pain. One might think he'd grow used to it by now, but the only reason he was able to push through it in the trials was due to adrenaline and a hellbent will to survive. The aftermath sure hurt like hell, though. He found a soft, yet somewhat sarcastic tone in the back of his throat as he locked eyes with the inquisitive survivor.

"That obvious, huh?"

[peachwrites]

Min nods, grateful to have a trustworthy companion this time. Most of the time she seemed to get herself lumped together with idiots at best and selfish weirdos at worst. Then again, she couldn't be too disappointed. Feng Min herself wasn't entirely a team player, but girls had to stick together, right?

"Gotcha." Tossing a glance over her shoulder, she narrowed her eyes, trying to make out anything in the darkness. "I got a bad feeling about being here anyway. We should let these fools deal with it."

peachwrites asked: "i don't like these people . but i like you ." from feng min !

The redhead smiled softly, before looking around. -- Feng was the only was she liked as well, but maybe she should give them all a chance? "... Come, let's go that way." The other two survivors didn't look promising. "We can try to get these generators up and running, while they work on the ones we started near." Maybe splitting up would be best. Trials were a lot different than the real world.. You were taught to stick together, but that could be a downfall here.

[peachwrites]

Her plans for the night hadn't even included a bar, let alone bringing a stranger home from it. But she'd been lonely and bored and, without her normal gaggle of friends to aid in her bad decisions, Susie was left to make them on her own.

"I guess that's just a risk you'd have to be willing to take." Wearing a coquettish smirk, Susie shrugged. "If you're too chicken, I understand." Lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued with a teasing grin. "I know I'm utterly terrifying."

open to: m / f / nb. feat. STEPHEN 'STEVIE' HARDESTY, final boy !

". . .and how do i know i'm safe taking you up on your offer?" a small chuckle left stevie's lips as he leaned against the doorway. just walking the other home from the bar had been stepping outside of his comfort zone, yet here he was, considering coming inside of a near-stranger's house. "i've seen enough horror flicks, how do i know you're not leading me to my doom?"

[peachwrites]

"You know," She mimicked him in a childish tone. "I'm thinking not exorcising you was a really bad idea." She tossed the jab over her shoulder, hands fidgeting to clasp her earring. Sable knew it was a rather rude thing to say, but Oscar wasn't making her life any easier. If he hadn't died, she thought selfishly, she wouldn't be forced to go on stupid blind dates. But she kept the sentiment to herself, hurrying around the room as she searched for her other shoe. Or was it her other earring? "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Too bad. I'm not canceling. Not again."

open to all ! hear me out... just a little spn plot for two idiots (hs sweetheart vibes maybe) who were totally in love until oscar passed away and now he's just lowkey existing to keep them company, not even sure himself if he's a ghost/figment of their imagination

“ you know, i'm thinking this whole blind date thing is a really bad idea. ” he announces suddenly, brown eyes following the other round the room as they get ready — and all oscar can do is stand there, hands shoved in jacket pockets as he lingers on the edge of some reality he knows only they can see. “ i mean, what if the guy's a total weirdo? ” or what is he isn't, and oscar has to watch the two of them hit it off. “ just cancel, tell everyone you're not ready to date yet. ”

[peachwrites]

If there was anything Nellie hated more than parties, it was the boring men that attended them. She wasn't a complicated woman. She didn't need men to have formal education to interact with her, but they had to at least keep her attention. A concept that this man couldn't seem to grasp. She'd tried nearly everything to make him leave, everything short of 'fuck off'. And the more he yapped, the more tempting the idea sounded. Before she could manage to shove the man away, a friendly face strolled along.

"Bas--?" She could hardly finish his name before his lips were on hers. It was certainly one way to tell a creep to bugger off, but she hadn't expected it to be the one chosen in this instance. But she was even more surprised that she didn't hate it. She played along, looping her arms around his neck until Nell heard the stranger toddle off, muttering swears, no doubt, under his breath.

He finally pulled away and Nell wondered maybe she'd drank more alcohol than she'd remembered. She felt dizzy and warm all over, surely a side effect of her indulgence tonight and not the kiss with her friend. Nellie shook her head, trying to rid herself of the perverse thoughts that threatened to take hold. And when her senses finally managed to trickle back in, she couldn't help but laugh at the insanity of the situation.

"Fuckin' hell, Bash." She muttered in response, giving him a playful shove and fighting to ignore her own heart raging beneath her bodice. Nell swiped at the corner of her lips with her finger, entirely sure no lipstick remained, but undeniably grateful for the rescue. "You should know by no that if you're expecting a 'thank you', you rescued the wrong gal."

MUSE : sebastian 'bash' swan, professional tinkerer and avoider of responsibility OPEN TO : f / enby CONTEXT :  you’re my best friend / wingman and this horrible, obnoxious human being has been hitting on me for an hour and wont take the hint so you come up and make out with me and wow i wasn’t expecting to see stars au

no doubt the look on his best friend’s face screamed ‘help’ to anyone who was willing to look in her direction but with everyone too enamored in their own conversations, nobody would come to her rescue. he’d waited probably far too long with drink in hand at the bar before finally heaving a sigh to rescue her himself, appearing at her side in no time at all and effectively shoving the creep aside to kiss them square on the mouth. it wasn’t long before they walked away but bash's lips were still pressed to theirs, unable to break away due to how... easy it felt. ❝ mmm, ❞ he murmured as he finally pulled away. ❝ you owe me - big time. ❞

[peachwrites]

EMILY BADER as LADY JANE GREY — 1.02 "Wild Thing"

[peachwrites]

there  in  her  glittering  prime 

the  lights  refract  sequin  stars  off  her  silhouette  every  night 

i  can  show  you  lies 

independent & private cassie howard from hbo max's euphoria 

loved by mj 

promo credit! 

[peachwrites]

i've got the bridgerton brainrot lately: @nomdepen :-)

[peachwrites]

“I thought you looked nice.”

- from my ghost muse , piper ! to whomever you please !

“Thanks, I thought so, too, but I guess getting good reactions from dead people is harder than I thought. If I knew this whole being dead thing would be so tough, I would’ve studied for it.”

[peachwrites]

Dorothy hadn’t thought about high school since the day she graduated. It had been an accomplishment to survive those years, even as a popular girl, and she had been desperate to move on to bigger and better things. She never did seem to find those bigger and better things, but Dottie never lost hope. She wasn’t necessarily proud of the life she’d lived thus far but regrets were useless, she'd found, and she was determined to keep her head held high. If not for herself, then for her son.

The smell of the gymnasium yanked her back in time, back to the simpler days. If she closed her eyes, she’d be able to hear the squeak of sneakers across the waxed floor and could almost, almost smell the lingering cocktail of weed and body odor from the locker rooms. Even the bleachers looked the same. Not a single upgrade to be seen, she thinks. It’s almost a comfort, though. Knowing that some things remain the same, no matter how much others may change. Like a time capsule of memories, good and bad. Before she could think better of it, her feet are carrying her over to risers, to the steps where her and her friends would cheer for the cutest boys at every pep rally—where she’d eventually begin to sneak away to find other interests out of sight.

Instead of climbing the bleachers, Dottie cut past the stairs and ducked her head to climb under her old hideaway. She wasn't truly expecting anyone to be sitting here when she ducked under. But the whole gesture felt familiar, like a muscle memory. She'd duck down, hold the hair out of her face and smile when she saw Hunter waiting. But she hadn't done that in years, and she doubted someone like Hunter would be caught dead at something like this. Or at least that what she told herself to soften the blow of not seeing him. Getting her hopes up high never ended well, and she knew her was probably living a life somewhere else, with a wife and possibly children.

She wonders if it’s a ghost, the handsome figure sitting in the shadows with a bottle in hand. Either of her own heart or of the building, she wasn't sure. Students always claimed the gym was haunted, after all. But the smell of the wine filled her nose and brought her a sort of comfort. Maybe it was someone she’d gone to school with and they could catch up, share some wacky stories of life since then. Maybe it was an old friend, an old coworker. Or maybe, just maybe, it was exactly who she’d been hoping she’d encounter here. “Am I interrupting something?”

open to; f muse; hunter campbell. 39. pilot. plot; high school sweethearts running into each other at the reunion

Why had he even agreed to come to this in the first place? There was nothing about high school that he missed. He wasn't interested in seeing his old classmates, as he was still friends with the only ones he even liked, and he was certainly not interested in spending the night making small talk. He shouldn't have allowed himself to be talked into this, but he had found an escape quickly. After getting an entire bottle of wine from the bartender, Hunter excused himself from his group and found the secluded area beneath the bleachers he'd frequented when he was a teenager. Most of his time spent here was in the company of another, and he couldn't deny how much he wished she were there now. But that was a long time ago and they'd both moved on. Instead, he just made himself as comfortable as he could, it was a much smaller space now, and began to drink from the bottle, hoping to stay out of sight until leaving didn't seem rude.

[peachwrites]

In another universe, I got to say goodbye

[peachwrites]

“I don’t mind you worrying. As long as you don’t go putting up missing person posters if I leave for a week.” She teased, but she had to admit that it was nice knowing someone would be there to mourn her in the end. Someone other than her sisters and her creator.

“Martha’s Vineyard. It’s a little island off of Massachusetts. Real boujee.” It’s the first place that comes to mind, not too far off from the woods of New Hampshire where a villainous hideout was located. Blossom would much rather have been lounging on the sand with a bottle of wine to split with her sisters. She’d have much preferred that fantasy over the dreaded hike through the woods and the fight that followed. If she never had to smell rotting wood and leaves ever again, she’d be perfectly content. Blossom was no doubt a city girl.

She backs away from the foyer, trailing off into the kitchen, a wordless invitation to make himself at home. Blossom wasn’t entirely used to having visitors. Not her own, at least. Bubbles had boys fawning over her everywhere they went and Professor seemed to have new scientist friends over every month. It was about time that Blossom had some company.

“Want something to drink?” Her voice carries far in the empty modernist apartment. It feels hollow without all four of them together, a reminder of why she could never live alone. “Of course, of course. How silly of me.” Blossom pulls a half-full bottle of lemonade from the fridge, barren of magnets, and sets it down on the counter. Fridge magnets, check. She’ll remember it for next time. “What did you do while I was gone? Besides waiting eagerly for me to come back with bated breath.”

Trent's taking this one to the grave. So down bad that he was sick to his stomach, pacing his room, thinking something might'a actually happened to her when really she somewhere lazing on the beach with a mojito in hand, one of them ones with the tiny umbrellas sticking out of it. He's usually pretty good at figuring out if he's got a shot, but not with the way he's moving, a kid's first crush, with the type of brazen, misplaced confidence that's got him showing up at her door unprompted.

Then she smiles and he doesn't feel so bad for being so down bad, 'cos he thinks that's standard protocol for anyone who gets to witness it. Likes the way her whole face lights up, the apples of her cheeks pinched rosy from the blusher she's wearing. She looks cute. He wants to take her out on a date. He needs to focus. "Maybe just a lil'." He admits. It's the understatement of the century. "'Less you don't want me to worry over you, then I wasn't worried at all. Barely even though about you while you were gone." He bookends it with a casual shrug, though he's grinning big.

"That's real sweet. Where'd y'all go?" Trent asks, expression softening. Blossom, and her sisters, seem real close with their dad. It's nice to see. He doesn't know for sure if her mama's in the picture, but his sure ain't and Trent gets these fantastical ideas that his pops and hers could be friends. Which is a bit much probably, when he don't even know her like that. But he wants to. Trent's still got his shoes on, idling politely in the foyer, still trying to suss out whether him being here is actually alright or if he's gotta chill.

That gets a laugh out of him, his cheeks are still warm from the compounded embarrassment but he doesn't really care. "Who said I miss you? Maybe I jus' quadruple text everyone I'm talkin' to." A pause. "But I like fridge magnets. For next time."

[peachwrites]

Blossom knows she ought to be grateful that someone other than her own family was concerned about her wellbeing. It seemed like the majority of strangers she encountered wanted her and her sisters dead and buried at best. Trent wasn’t one of the creeps she tossed into the slammer, though. He wasn’t an evil mastermind that was plotting world domination-- or at least, she didn’t think he was. If he turned out to be evil at the end of everything, Blossom would look pretty dumb, but she’d cross that bridge when she got there.

“No, it’s probably good you didn’t text, honestly.” She smiles sheepishly, more ashamed of not having her phone with her than anything else. Normally, Blossom kept her phone on her person at all times, most of the time it was fully charged. But when she was on call, the girls often left their belongings behind, lest they get destroyed or stolen in the midst of saving the city. Besides, if he had texted her, the chances of Blossom getting my distracted would’ve increased considerably, and that wouldn’t have ended well when she was usually the levelheaded one. This time wasn't quite like that, though. Blossom had managed to leave her cell phone behind in a taxi somewhere and had already finished mourning the loss of her cute phone case.

“Aw, you were worried about me?” Each of the girls had their own strengths. Bubbles was outgoing and friendly, nearly to a fault. Buttercup was blunt and often wielded her attitude like a weapon. Blossom wasn’t too hot or too cold, but she wasn’t just quite right either. She liked attention, but not too much of it. She didn’t mind having an attitude, but only when the moment called for it. When it came to cute boys, she was just as hopeless as any other girl.

“It was just an impromptu family vacation thing. My dad thought we could use a weekend getaway. I guess we just... lost track of the days.” She shrugs, hoping to come across as nonchalant rather than mindless. 'Vacation' was often the excuse she used for their trips, despite the fact that she’d never taken a real vacation. Vacations were for normal people, and their father made sure they never forgot how special they were. The Professor was always working on something new, so it was easy to play it all off as a surprise work trip when they were younger. Nowadays, they had to adapt. When their father eventually died, she’d have to come up with some other excuse, but it wasn’t something she was worried about anytime soon. “If I knew you’d miss me so much, I woulda brought you back some kind of souvenir.”

It takes several moments for Trent to put the situation into context and when he does, the heat immediately prickles up the back of his neck. He's painfully aware of what this looks like, how clingy he probably looks right now showing up at her door after his triple-texts went unanswered. He doesn't exactly know how to recover from this gracefully, but he's sure as shit gonna try. There's nothing he can do to make it look as though he hasn't been sleeping around three hours a day, wondering where she went, debating with himself if he was doing too much or if he should file a missing persons report.

And if he thinks about it rationally (which doesn't come naturally), his sisters woulda done that if they were really concerned. Blossom isn't a person who can disappear without anyone noticing, not to him at least. "Right, 'course. I shoulda texted first." He offers apologetically, the space between his brows creasing to a wince. He looks lame as fuck.

Still, Blossom extends more grace to him than he probably deserves. "I was jus' worried somethin' had happened to you." He admits, slinking inside and idling nearby. "Swear I ain't like..." His gaze flicks to the ceiling, as if the right words are up there. After a pause, he manages something decent. "You don't gotta tell me though, I know I like, ain't entitled? To that." Is that the right word? It sounds funny coming out of his mouth, unused. He's overthinking in different ways now, if she wanted to ghost or if she was just busy. Trent's kinda down bad for her. "Me? I'm chill. Chiller now that I know you're good." A dumb smile prods at his mouth.