🍻 + "are you happy that your brother and I got married?" (cricket!)
"Are you fucking kidding meeeeeee?" Mac squeals, pouring her whole body mass into the way she wraps her arms around Cricket's neck and then proceeds to practically hang there.
Turns out she was not built to contend with a series of celebratory marriage shots.
"I'm, like, the most happiest girl in the world right now. Like, I'm so fucking psyched -- you have no fucking idea. I've always wanted a sister but, like, you're sooooooo much less scary than what a sister would be than if, like, Trevor was a girl? You know? Like imagine a sister that's like my mom?"
Mac bares her teeth in a "yeesh" at the mental imagery.
"Like, am I bummed about having to move? Yes, I would have vibbed with a bit more warning but that's fiiiiiiiiine. But the BIGGEST crime we have to contend with was that I wanted to be flower girl. But I can be persuaded to be forgiving."
🤝+ 12 or 32 fr cricket n freddie.... looks away.... whatever calls to u most...
…to wake yours up.
heavy lidded eyes flutter open, struggling to make out the time and the location. is she still dreaming? the fake fur carpet feels itchy under her palms, synthetic and uncomfortable, it doesn’t serve her the same as the king sized bed, so, no. oh. right. their inception night. for almost a full minute she doesn’t dare to breathe, laying stiffly next to him, freddie watches the shadows dancing across her ceiling through the half shut curtains. a puppet show presented by a street light and an old sycamore tree. ironically, she has no recollection of her dream; no jumping to each other’s consciousness, no shared alternative realities. yet there’s no sign of the familiar burden of failure hanging over her — focusing on the sound of his steady breathing, she’s a gazelle shot with a heavy tranquilliser, floating in her bubble of unusual bliss. by the looks of the room, it’s been, what, over two hours since they fell asleep? turning on her side, freddie feels her thoughts contaminated with the john green virus, the nonstop monologues about how delicate and warm and fragile he looks while asleep. probably not the best way to describe him, but it’s better than the wordy, pretentious looking for alaska-esque bullshit reign of terror inside her brain. still she gazes at his face, intently, almost feeling guilty for the reversed edward and bella situation, or the fact it’s a memory she never wishes to forget. hey, cricket, what’s up? ah, me? nothing much, i really like watching you sleep, that’s all. “hey,” an inaudible whisper and fingers stroke over his cheek, skin now ablaze with the chaste touch. “wake up,” humming, freddie pokes pointer finger to his cheek, still gentle, still strangely yearning for something more ardent, but this has to do. “aliens are here and they want you as their king, come on, wake up.”
"That's my fucking girl, right there. She's so cool and so funny and so understanding. She never lets you talk bad about yourself. And she's so creative and has the best vibes. Always down for a giggle. Here's hoping two things: That my brother has the nerves to get her back and that he doesn't let her go again. Amen." @cricketcampbell @mackmontgomery
for what my muse would say to the person trying to woo your muse.
“huh? cricket?? yeah, he’s my friend. uh, no? i mean.. i wouldn’t go there, like, a friendly advice, feminism and shit. i mean, come on — noah fence, but he can do so much better. he deserves the fucking best and i’m just... not buying this, like, spider senses telling me you’re not good enough. i’m team you, really, that’s... the only reason i’m being so honest. tough love, yay! plus he’s like, taken, so... no, i’m not sure, but like, i’m also pretty sure he likes my friend, so what do we do with unrequited crushes? we bury them deep and move on, i suggest you do the same.”
for the toast my muse would give at your muse’s wedding.
“hi—ehm, is this.. is this thing on? hello— yeah, hi! so... yeah, i’ll be the that i’m not like the other girls girl but i was never really the type to dream about her wedding day. i wasn’t even sure if i would ever get married, mother knows all about it, right, mommy? anyway... growing up, i was never really sure of anything, then i met cricket. i was sure, but what i was sure of, i couldn’t exactly tell. it’s like this little freddie, living inside my heart, was telling me he was special. so special that i wanted to be with him for the rest of my life. ew, it’s too much, i — uhm, so, yeah. thank you to everyone for coming to our wedding, it’s crazy. to plagiarize my favourite author stephenie meyer, i propose a toast to my dashing husband. no measure of time with you will be long enough, but let's start with forever.”
Scottie: OH COME ON
Scottie: It's one little swingers party.
Scottie: We won't even fuck anyone, I just wanna see what kind of people think they're hot enough to be swingers.
Scottie: Bring your weird husband if you want.
