#bitchcrqft

[malletz-a]

aRe yOu iNsAnE LiKe mE? bEeN In pAiN LiKe mE? bOuGhT A HuNdReD DoLlAr bOtTlE Of cHaMpAgNe lIkE Me? JuSt tO PoUr tHaT MoThErFuCkEr dOwN ThE DrAiN LiKe mE? wOuLd yOu uSe yOuR WaTeR BiLl tO DrY ThE StAiN LiKe mE?

madeson mountgumery and harlot quinoa as typed by winnie and lainey

[viiuvas-a]

@bitchcrqft​: “ i hate talking about my feelings. i repress my trauma like a big girl. “

The blonde’s words don’t do much to discourage Zoe. Her current state of worry being the reason her voice remains soft, and her face full of concern for the other witch. Not answering at first, she keeps intently studying the starlet. Looking for something she isn’t quite sure of yet.

“But it might help,” she insists, ready to drop the subject at the slightest sign of discomfort coming from the woman. Releasing a small sigh, Zoe tries again. “Listen, you don't have to talk about it, okay? Just-” A pause. “There's a lot of people who care about you, Madison. We're here for you.”

[donecoasting]

                      @bitchcrqft​     ---   liked!                   ( song: what i like about you / the romantics )

      ❛  WANNA COME OVER TONIGHT?  ❜   a hum of droned boredom follows a careful sigh from her end of the line.  leaning down into her vanity’s mirror, a frown finds her lips noting slightly smeared eye liner.   ❛  . . .  and don’t tell me you have something better to do.  we both know you don’t have lines to rehearse or whatever.  ❜

[malletz-a]

’ You smell like a lawn mower. ’  :  @bitchcrqft​

❝  i did sleep over at pammy’s last night,  ❞  grin spans from ear to ear,  positively delighted in lieu of embarrassment.  bragging mood?  maybe.  harley just happens to be one lucky gal.  ❝  suppose it’sa side-effect of having a botanist girlfriend?  wouldn’t call it lawn mower,  though——  maybe  ‘essence of ivy’  instead.  sounds classier!  ❞

[malletz-a]

“So, what were you whispering about?”  :  @bitchcrqft​

❝  oh,  y’know,  girl’s night out plans.  ❞  light fingers smooth over pigtails,  bright lips pursed,  platinum strands falling to frame face with surprising ease.  the wonders of raiding a starlet’s bathroom for pricey hair products!  ❝  bit‘a theft,  some light arson,  possibly even kidnapping.  just th’ basics!  when i told ya t’ never visit gotham,  i wasn’t kiddin’.  ❞

[malletz-a]

‘ yes, she is a bitch. b i c t … h. ’  :  @bitchcrqft​

laughter is abrupt,  nevertheless delighted.  harley raises her glass,  downing the shot in record time.  ❝  fair enough.  ...ya kiss yer mama with that mouth?  sheesh!  ❞

[isntnaive]

“ i don’t know what that means.”    (  @bitchcrqft​  )

              “    for   someone    who    was   quite    literally    trapped   in    Hell    for   a    while,    one   would    assume    you’d   be    a    bit   more    familiar    with   the    concept    of   Limbo.    ”

               Voice    is   sardonic,    yet    there    is   no    real    malice   behind    her    comment   –    perhaps    a    bit    of   bitterness    does    imprint   itself    upon    her   tone,    but    by   now,    Moira    supposes   anyone    who    bothers   to    listen    to   what    she    has   to    say    will   grow    used    to   it.    indeed,    she   doesn’t    mean    to   snarl    or    chastise,   but    to    explain   instead    the    situation   she    finds    herself   in    –    of    course,    the   witch    doesn’t   get    it,    despite   her    supposed    knowledge   in    magic,    Moira   is    aware    that   no    creature,    human   or    witch,    can   possibly    glimpse    of   what’s    to    come   after    death.    It’s    one   of    humanity’s    biggest   existential    doubts,    one   Moira    admits    she’d   always    taken    for   granted,    and    for   that,    she    scolds   herself    every    single   day    of    her   neverending    existence.    

              She    offers   a    sideways    glance   to    the    young   woman    perched   on    the    study’s   sofa    like    Cleopatra   on    her    throne   –    yet    the   ghost    perceives    certain   softness    in    her,   humanity    she   cannot    conceal    behind   petty    remarks.    And   Moira    will    turn   on    her    heels,   duster    in    hand   as    her    tone   mellows    when    she   speaks    again,    adopts   an    almost    motherly   demeanor    –    an    old   teacher    instructing    a    child.

              “    it   means    we’re    trapped    inside   this    house    forever,   Ms.    Montgomery.    all   of    us    are   –    for    one   reason    or    another.   ”    her    own   reason    has    rotten   to    bones    underneath    that   forsaken    gazebo,    “    and    for   some    reason,    we   can’t    move    forward   …    if    there   is    anything    else   to    move    forward   to.    ”    she   needs    to    believe   there    is    –    that    her   mother    is    waiting   for    her    there.    Eyes   shift    to    avert   Madison’s    gaze    for    a    moment,    voice   a    quieter    murmur,   “    it    means   you    might’ve    lived   your    own    personal   Hell,    but    we   live    ours    too.   ”

[malletz-a]

chompa chompa baby

i’m ur lil soup boye