#max marsette

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

I just remembered it’s Regardless canon that Lanie owns lingerie, which is a big deal because she’s a big girl. There’s an entire scene where Crystal takes over Lanie’s body (it’s a loooong story...) and finds it in one of Lanie’s drawers, puts it on, and is like “ugh, no”, because she’s a narcissistic skinny blond bitch and this is a blow to her fragile ego, but then Max walks in and is like “DAMN, BABE, YOU LOOK GREAT!!!!!” ...and then promptly remembers Lanie’s very particular about people seeing her so vulnerable and asks permission before he goes any further. Crystal’s assholery aside, this one scene has more body positivity for fat girls than most books out there.

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

My Brain: Romeo & Juliet, but Juliet HATES Romeo and wants him to die, and Romeo doesn't know she exists.

Me: How is that Romeo & Juliet at all?

My brain: Family feuds. Also, they have a kid together. :):):)

Me: ????

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

💬 (do it Soph, I want to reeeeeeead Regardless) :)

This is probably my favourite exchange in the entire novel:

Max Marsette clears his throat, pushing himself off the shelf, holding his casually cool reputation in tact. Something about the illusion shatters, a soft transmutation into something else. He approaches the checkout desk. Lanie continues to ignore him. The neglect rankles him, enough to knock his nonchalant mask off kilter. He runs his fingers through his shoulder-length hair to steady himself with a breath and waits. The slightest self-important smirk unfurls across his face. There. The illusion’s back in place. Order restored. 

Lanie remains undeterred.

Seconds pass. Lanie turns a page of her book, taking her own sweet time to appreciate the feel of the pages between her fingers.

He clears his throat. She reaches across the desk, palm up, expectant. But he has no book to give her, nothing to scan, nothing to stamp. So he’s of no use to her.

“Lanie…” he draws out her name finally, obnoxiously teasing it out syllable by syllable, as if to return the barb for being slighted.

“No,” comes her own terse, monosyllabic reply. “Not today.” She flips another page,  still not looking up. Utterly bored.

“Tomorrow then?” he pushes where she clearly does not want to be pushed, his question laced with foolhardy hope.

“Not ever.” She finally lifts her gaze for the briefest of moments to glare back at him from over the rim of her glasses.

“I think you’ll want to change your mind…” He raises a brow, leaning sidelong into the desk.

Lanie lets out a humourless snort. “I highly doubt that.”

“Are you sure?” Max tries, unable or unwilling to take the hint. Lanie’s expression goes from uninterested to outright cold. “There’s a Halloween party this Saturday. You should come.”

This time, Lanie’s had enough. She slams her book down against the table top and leans in to give him the unadulterated attention he so desperately craves. His narcissistic grin is back. The scowl she greets it with should have been enough to slap the smug look off his face. Lanie’s all but five seconds away from doing just that. “I’d rather saw my own fingers off with a rusty spoon than spend a night in a club with you.” Lanie’s mouth twists in disgust. “Now get out before I call campus security and report you for harassment.”

“You wouldn’t.” Max smirks at her knowingly and leans ever closer.

Lanie grabs the phone at her elbow, holding it to her ear. Her fingers poise on the dial as she watches him intently for his next move.  “Try me.”

Send me a 💬 and I’ll share a passage from one of my WIPs I’m particularly proud of.

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

1, 19, and 27?

1.) First ever OC.

Max Marsette. He’s the patriarch of the Marsette family. I created him with the express purpose of seeing him Die, and witnessing the entire family fall apart in the aftermath... 😈

19.)  Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

I feel like this answer is a bit of a cop out, because this’ll always be my go-to response to this question, and I wish I had another OC who meant just as much to me, but I gotta say Lanie. Lanie Schrupnink started out as Max’s love interest, and when I was first writing her at 16, she fell into the easily swooning damsel in distress who just accepted the male lead despite the fact that he was a total douche nozzle to her. So in the second draft of Regardless, I knew the biggest thing I wanted to change was to give her some agency, independence, and strength.  And she became this no-nonsense woman who called Max out on his bullshit, cared deeply for the people in her life, and refused to accept anything less than she deserved from everyone around her. She’s the figure I want young girls to read about one day and realize that they don’t have to take boys’ shit when they try to chase you. You’re allowed to say no to a boy and demand respect.

Lanie’s also very special to me because she’s modelled after my mom. She’s the mother Marnie’s always needed in her life, and it felt important to me that I pull all Lanie’s best traits as a mother from my own mom. She stands up for her principles, and for the people in her life, and gives them pep talks, and convinces you to pursue your  dreams. She’s not afraid to call someone out for their bullshit, which makes her pretty scary often enough, but also she’s soft and maternal and will take care of you when you need it most.

27.) Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song?

Violet Lewandowski was 100% inspired by Fall Out Boy’s “American Beauty/American Psycho”. I remember watching that music video and wanting with such clarity, a savage female character who fought with the elegance of a ballerina. I wanted to play with the notion of this girl with so much outward beauty, who staunchly rejected being valued for her appearances, and just burned with so much anger against the gendered expectations thrust upon her because of it.

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

There's nothing Max can say to absolve himself, nor make sense of it. Words won't bring them clarity. But in the emptiness of the moment, a ringing whoosh of the unexpected threatens to fill the void. The particles in the air seem to shift with it, anticipation heightened to a dull thrum. Max's name is barely out of Elisabeth's warning mouth before their intruder slams vertically into the coffee table, shattering mugs beneath her feet. The wood of the table holds her up, as if she's grown up out of the grain itself, and she's frenetic with tremorous energy. An electrical charge crackles through the room, static sizzling against the hairs along mother and son's arms. The teaspoons hang, metallic, in midair as the still-warm brew seeps into the table, leaving chocolate coated biscuits crumbled and soggy. Elisabeth watches, wary, as her new guest heaves with the efforts of her intrusion, joined by a tiny accomplice, cupped in her hands. Both are covered in blood and viscera.

Time, Regardless | Sophie M.L. Pink

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

Stop yelling at her."     Marnie blinks, shocked for the interlude. She's seen Max many times before, in many different states. But never like this. Never tentative and gentle, with a gleam in his eye she can't quite place. One he's never reserved for Lanie, though it shares the same intensity.        Elisabeth shoots a glare in his direction. "You don't know a thing about this!" Nor should he, Marnie knows full well.        "I know she's mine." Those four words still the room more effectively than Marnie's powers ever could. "Both of them are mine. Aren't they?"       It's the most astute thing Max Marsette has ever said, and he's figured it out within a matter of hours: a new record. Marnie suddenly feels small, very small, shrinking, shrinking, shrinking, like Alice  with her little glass bottle. Drink me, fit to size. She's a little girl again, waiting for the penitence her mother will never grant her for every unseen whip-stroke across her back. Each scar crisscrossing over her skin seems to pound to life, a reminder of what having a parent– a poor, uncaring,  unrelenting parent– has given her.       "How?" Somehow, she finds her voice, and it's smaller than the rest of her. Her father. She's speaking to her father. Her father is acknowledging her as his own. The momentousness of the occasion is far too big for her to fathom: the delectable morsel to bring her back to normal size, and bigger. "How do you know?"        "You look like a Marsette.

Time, Regardless | Sophie M.L. Pink

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

Max: Does she have a name?

Elisabeth: That's up to you.

Max: Marnie. Lanie's gonna kill me, but it's at the top of our list.

Marnie: !!!!!

[heavens-tiny-daggers]

Max takes a step back, a spectrum of emotions hitting him at once, utter shock and confusion flitting across his face before the affront settles in to stay. "I've never met that woman in my life!"        It's something a cheater would say. Lanie knows this. The uncertainty claws at her throat. She also knows how insidious Crystal's scheming can be, how far her persuasion can go.       "Are you sure?" She presses anyway, probing him for the very answers she's been desperate to unleash for the past seven months. "Are you absolutely sure? Blond hair, high heels, nails... looks like the widow who just came from her husband's funeral with absolutely no remorse? Her?"

Time, Regardless | Sophie M.L. Pink