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violett-harmonnn replied to your post: What am I even doing with my life?! I’ve...
// vine is the best thing ever
bitchcraftzadison replied
i feel you
This is literally no way to live my life. I'm still watching them and I'm pretty sure I've seen every vine in existence now.
⊕
Send me ⊕ for a
pro and con list about our characters sleeping together
Pro's
Pretty sure he’d dominate her into oblivion
Langdon would enjoy himself and try to make her enjoy it as well
ghost fucking is A++++++++++++++++++
Con's
He has a hard time getting it up
Still has a bit of hatred for Violet(s)
She seems too nice to really put his dick into
Happy birthday CJ!I hope it's wonderful. I know I've already said this like 3 times, but yeah! You're great and I'm happy I get to talk to you, even though I spent a long time being too intimidated to talk to you, haha. Don't let anybody bring you down, today, or ever. And when I tell you, you are amazing please remember it! You're a amazing writer and person and you deserve the best.
Thank you so much sweet heart, this means so much <3 Absolutely lovely and I can not thank you enough, you’re so UGH SO SWEET. Don’t ever be too intimidated to talk to me, okay, ever.
Welcome home, Violet. {AU}
A lot could happen in three years. After Ben and VIvian spilt up, Violet left with her mom to live with her aunt in some place Tate couldn't remember. He thought of her almost every day, until a new buyer came along.
This one was different. It wasn't some family trying to start over in LA who saw a cheap house and went for it. This time, they sold it to a state institute. The news sent all of the inhabitants running scared for their afterlife, though the plan was never to tear the place down.
Instead, they took the old house and remodeled it into a co-ed dormitory for the college they had built down the road. Tate had fun for the first year, scaring the shit out of the young adults, but the appeal of it quickly wore off. There was nothing fun about being stuck in a house full of college students anymore, or so he thought.
About a year and a half in, he met Mallorie. She was 18, short and tiny, big curly, messy blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and half way down her back. She was pale, almost scary pale, and she wore a lot of eye make up. The way it smeared all over the pillows bugged Tate, but he never complained. She had wide eyes, the kind that made her look crazy most of the time, and her smile made Tate's heart race as if he were looking at Violet all over again. Mallorie was quite, always hiding in the basement --which was now a well lit study with couches that were welded to the floor. They were standing in the game room, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking her close to his side, and she snaked her arm around his waist. He was smitten, and before he knew it, he could barely remember what Violet looked like. That was until she walked in the door as a freshman at LAU. She was one of the new additions to the house, and Tate nearly fainted.
The second he saw her face, all of the memories came flooding back. One by one. Scrabble, the beach, her virginity, those kids, the fighting when she left with her mom, his months of constant emptiness... It knocked the breath right out of him. All of the color drained from his cheeks and he felt as if he might just fall to the floor. It was enough for him to need to sit down for a moment, and for Mallorie's already-wide eyes to become even wider, asking him if he was okay and running to get him some water. No, he was not okay, not at all. You could have sworn he had seen a ghost...
It was easy to lie to Mally about what classes he had, and making up excuses about homework and finals when she invited him to the sorority parties was becoming second nature to him. He snuck into her room, reading her class schedule and telling her all of his were on the opposite side of the school to risk her wondering why they never bumped into each other. But Violet knew the truth. Her being here meant that life as he knew it could end at any time.
After a few hours of uncomfortably watching as they introduced Violet to everyone, and some forced small talk with a girl he wasn't supposed to know, he lied and told everyone one of his lame school excuses and hid from everyone the remainder of the night. Well, from everyone except Violet.
It was about 10:30 when he showed up in her room. Her room mate was off to the co ed showers, probably onto her third meaningless hook up of the month, and Tate figured it was better if they spoke alone anyway. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel at this point, mad because she had shown up out of no where and never bothered to write Tate as they'd promised, or happy that she was home in the first place.
"What are you doing here, Violet?"
Get fluffy
5. A piggyback ride
“Fiiiiine—But if you break my back, bitch, I’ll break your neck” For the next century.
Your icon though
It’s pretty rad
A More Than Suitable Match - [Violett-harmonnn]
Tate looked at his mom. “Are you fucking serious? That was for real?” He remembered his mother telling him when he was very young about the pretty little girl that would one day be his bride. “Hardly anyone arranges marriages anymore.”
“Well, we do, and you’re bound by law to do as your father and I say.” Constance lit a cigarette.
“That motherfucker is not my father. He’s the man you’re fucking, and congrats, this one gave you a ring,” Tate spat.
She threw her lighter down. “Your father, Hugo Langdon, signed the contract. It’s done. And she’ll be here in twenty minutes, so you better be kind.”
Tate huffed. He wasn’t about to lose his inheritance over a girl. His soon to be wife. Motherfuck. He sat, ever-dutiful, in the lounge and awaited the arrival of his fiancé.
The first party of summer after their senior year in high school was supposed to be liberating. Parties weren't their thing, but best friends Tate and Violet decided to have one night of drunk and disorderly before she went away to school and he was stuck here. It was all an inebriated whirl of laughter and music and smiling people who had never smiled at them before. One guy was smiling at Violet and pouring her another drink. When Tate looked up from his own drink, they were gone.
He gave her twenty minutes to come back. They had promised to stick together. Tate became worried, and tried to find her. He entered a guest room and what he saw shocked every ounce of contraband out of his system. Poor, bruised flower was crushed against a mattress. There were bodies on top of her and all around. Then there was a whirl of screaming, and fists, and Violet crying. What felt like days later, He got her to her car and navigated the roads to her parents’ house. Opening the back gate and carrying her into the guest house didn’t even wake the family dog. Finally, she was home. He wanted to call an ambulance, she wanted to sleep. So Tate gave her aspirin, washed her wounds and stored her clothes in a plastic bag. She was asleep before he could slip an oversized T-shirt over her head. He decided that, whether she agreed or not, she was going to the hospital in the morning.
