135 posts
Latest Posts by velvetysage - Page 2
the moment drew starts talking — actually talking, beyond the bullshit, beyond the deflections — something tightens in penny’s chest, pulling taut like a wire about to snap. it’s almost cruel, how easily drew’s honesty, her rare vulnerability, still manages to slip beneath penny’s skin, still has the power to rattle her when she’s spent so much time trying to build walls against it. but she’s always known this about herself — about them. that drew could make her want to scream one second and crumble the next. she exhales, slow and shaky, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes before letting them fall to her sides. she’s so tired. tired of worrying. tired of trying to make sense of the mess drew leaves in her wake. "drew…" her voice isn’t sharp anymore, not biting — just hollow. worn. "you disappeared. just — just vanished. and you know what’s fucked? i spent two weeks trying to rationalize it. trying to come up with some kind of reason that would make it make sense. blaming myself.. because that’s what i do.. i blame myself. for every mishap, i think i am the root of every problem.. and it’s fucking exhausting." her arms cross over her chest, but it’s not anger fueling the motion — it’s an instinctive, futile attempt to hold herself together. "and then you just walk in here, cracking jokes, acting like it’s nothing, and i — " her voice cuts off, trembling under the weight of it all. "i don’t know what you expect from me. do you want me to pretend it’s fine? because i can’t do that." drew clutches the pillow to her chest, and it’s almost too much to look at. the way she holds onto it like a lifeline, like if she lets go, she might just disappear again. penny hates that a part of her still aches at the sight. hates that no matter how furious she is, there’s still something inside her that wants to reach for her. "and look," her voice drops, quieter now, not quite as sharp. "i know it’s not my place to worry anymore. but fuck… and i know it’s not all about me."
then drew says it. make it up to me. and something inside penny breaks. she meets drew’s gaze, raw and unguarded, her own vision blurring at the edges. "make it up to me?" her breath hitches, and she blinks, like that might somehow clear the storm behind her eyes. her body feels too heavy, like she’s sinking under the weight of everything she’s been holding in. "it’s not about making anything up." her voice is quieter now, the anger simmering into something heavier, something deeper. "nothing you say — nothing you do — is ever going to erase what you did. there is nothing in this world that can make me forget how little you made me feel. how unwanted and fucking pathetic you made me feel." the words hurt to say. hurt to admit. but they hang in the air between them, undeniable. penny crosses the room, sinking onto the opposite couch, the space between them stretching wider than ever. she licks her bottom lip, trying to steady her thoughts, trying to find the words when everything inside her is screaming. "but look…" her voice wavers. she closes her eyes for a moment before searching for drew’s again. " wewouldn’t be here if i didn’t think i it was something we, or i could work past." she lets the truth settle between them, lets it linger in the silence. "there’s a reason i keep coming back to you. a reason i let you in when you come back to me. even when every part of me is screaming that it’s a mistake. even when i’ve spent hours trying to convince myself that you don’t deserve a second chance." she swallows hard, curling her legs up on the couch, her elbow bracing against the back of it as she wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "but i do believe people deserve more than one chance. even when i don’t want to. even when everything inside me tells me i shouldn’t."her breath stutters, and suddenly, saying the words out loud feels like taking a blade to her own ribs. "god," she exhales, a laugh breaking through — but it’s bitter, humorless. "it goes against every fucking principle i have to even imagine keeping someone in my life who cheated on me. saying it out loud? it sounds insane." she stares at the ceiling for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths before she finally looks at drew again. her eyes are glassy, voice on the edge of breaking. "but i don’t — i can’t — imagine my life without you." the confession feels like a betrayal of herself. a white flag she never intended to raise. "but i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to trust you again." her voice drops to a whisper.
it's not as though she'd expected a happy reunion. a running jump into her arms, milk maid gowns free flowing in the wind as they rejoiced. drew had expected the anger. but the delusional part of her brain, which was the part that was at the forefront these days, was silently hoping they could just skim past the anger. as a pillow collides with the back of her head, it's clear that they'll need to make a pit stop at i'm sorry station. "ow! i was holding a candle." a searing finger nestles between her lips and she sucks out the brief pain like venom. this does capture drew's attention, now completely facing penny who appears to be one lightning strike away from full-blown super villain fury. the power of their connection transcends what they are both willing to understand. it's frightening to some effect, how drew can instantly feel penny's agony crawling beneath her skin. infectious is how drew would describe it, but penny would likely describe it as empathy. she supposed that's where the two differed most. it was dangerous to drew -- and all consuming for penny, it made finding common ground far more precarious when one of them was trying to flee while the other was trying to cling.
"you know -- parker did tell me the pigeons were mindless drones. i thought that was kind of mean, you know? so i sent one. but judging by the fact you didn't get it. i guess i owe him five bucks." she fucked up. she knew the feeling as equally as she knew penny's turmoil considering their tendency to go hand in hand. and wasn't that devastating? knowing that your faults perfectly coincided with your partner's dismay? "i do want to pretend that everything is fine.." the blonde admits, likely the first thing she's been honest about in days. she sighs as she crosses the floor to penny but allows her enough space to feel comfortable. "but that's not fair to you. i know. i just -- i don't know what the fuck happened if i'm honest. and well, fuck. that's not fair to you either. i was sitting at work like.. is this gonna be the rest of my life? being good while everyone else is great? i mean - look, and i'm not trying to project this on you - but you're fucking great." drew scoops up the throw pillow off the ground and sink back into the bar stool, hugging it closely to herself. a waft of penny's perfume fills her nose and she takes a deep breath. it's grounding for a moment. that is until she says, "this time i've spent piecing us back together isn't bullshit, penny. i've been trying to make it up to you. and i'd do it all over again.. a thousand times." french nails are picking softly at the soft fuzz balls on the pillow as she nervously looks for something to do with her anxious fingers. "but will i ever be able to truly make it all up to you? i mean, really. and i want you to be honest with me."
hi, i love dynamics that r like “we make each other worse” on the surface but when u look deeper it is actually just “we understand each other on a level that no one else does and nudge each other out of our typical comfort zone” which just circles around to “we make each other better”. it’s abt the accidental growth just by being in each other’s lives. idk
for a long moment, penny doesn’t move. she just stares. at the sheer audacity of drew standing there , draped in borrowed clothes that don’t fit , wearing that same infuriating grin — like she hasn’t been missing for two weeks. like she hasn’t left penny to spiral , to wonder, to reach for a silence that never broke. her heart is still hammering against her ribs , the remnants of panic still thick in her bloodstream , fourteen days of unanswered questions pressing down on her like a weight she can’t shake. and then drew starts talking — rambling , deflecting , making jokes about flounder and burner phones , like this is just another one of her reckless disappearances. like penny hasn’t been tearing herself apart over where she was , if she was even alive, and suddenly something inside her snaps. a sharp , humorless laugh punches out of her , brittle at the edges. "are you — are you fucking kidding me ?" her voice is quiet , but there’s something dangerous beneath it , something raw and frayed. two weeks. two weeks of radio silence, of checking her phone every five minutes , of knocking on doors and getting nothing but shrugs , and now she just waltzes in — grinning , joking , like it’s all some game ? penny moves before she even thinks , grabbing the nearest throw pillow and launching it at her. not hard. not enough to hurt. but something — because if she doesn’t , she might actually scream. "you — " she stops , jaw locking , fists curled at her sides. "you absolute fucking — " another sharp inhale , her breath unsteady , her entire body tight with the effort of keeping herself from completely unraveling. "do you have any idea — any fucking idea — what the past two weeks have been like ? you couldn’t have just — texted ? called ? hell , sent a fucking carrier pigeon ?" she’s breathing too fast. she knows it. feels the way her hands are shaking , the way her chest is rising and falling too sharply. she knows she’s letting the panic and frustration bleed through , but she can’t shove it down. not when drew is just sitting there , completely unbothered , sniffing her vanilla candle like she didn’t just disappear without a trace. penny presses the heels of her hands against her eyes , turning on her heel and striding into the kitchen before she does something she won’t recover from. because she knows drew. knows this is her coping mechanism — acting like nothing is wrong , like she hasn’t just put everyone who gives a shit about her through hell. and maybe , once upon a time, penny would’ve let herself be distracted by the theatrics. would’ve let the relief of drew simply being here outweigh the hurt. but she’s seen this routine one too many times to fall for it now. she grips the counter , sucking in slow , steadying breaths. if she says something now , she will regret it. because part of her , beneath all the frustration , wants to burst into tears — because drew is alive , because she’s standing in front of her , because penny doesn’t have to wonder if she’s lost her forever. after a few seconds , she forces herself to move. forces herself to walk back into the room , stopping in the doorway , leaning against the frame like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. her voice is quieter now , but there’s no mistaking the weight behind it. "are you going to tell me what happened," she says , gaze steady , expression unreadable , "or do you just want to pretend everything is fine ? because i may be a good actress, drew, but i don’t think i can do that."
was it odd to say that abandoning her sense of self entirely gave her a new lease on life? plato didn't know shit about throwing his phone into the river. not to mention socrates had never experienced the thrill of pulling off a smooth drug deal on the busy city street. as far as drew was concerned, karl marx could suck the silicone dick that was slickened and stowed in her night stand. everywhere she went, flippant burner phone in hand, the blonde swore she could hear fly like an eagle beating in time with her steps. not a single care in the universe stopping her -- letting her spirit carry her from port to port. was this a mental breakdown of the most epic proportions? perhaps. for now - her metaphorical and quite literal high was impenetrable. and she had the steve miller band and parker to thank for that. when she'd told her roommates she'd abandoned her business with minimal explanation, drew had yet to answer the most critical questions. not even to herself. why? are you doing okay? the queries needed to be avoided. there was no space for concern in her hands-off approach to living. so it was natural to bolt. from her roommates, from penny. the fourth floor apartment hadn't seen her in days. she mostly opted for crashing on parker's couch. it made her hoodlum schedule a continuous affair. it made it easier to abandon any sort of guilt or critical thought about her decisions. but drew had caught wind of penny's concerns since her show stopping disappearance after opening night. the flowers adorned by the blonde at the stage door were the last tulips that drew had touched. and now, as the creative desire bubbled to the surface once more, so did her urge to see penny. she never dropped her key. a silent protest, a grandiose act of love, whatever you wanted to call it -- it was an excuse for drew to silently break in to surprise her. of course. the anxiety riddled star is edging tears, lump in her throat touching drew from where she stands by the front door. and she hears every word. but the eagle doesn't falter. "surprise, shaaaawty." the blonde calls out theatrically as she enters the space. her nomadic wardrobe is likely a testament to her mental state. parker's flannel that wouldn't button over her breasts even with one of those maternal stretch bands, a white bandeau top that has seen better days, a pair of inez's leggings that showcase some tasteful ankle on her too long legs, but still the same electric drew smile. "didn't i tell you? phone in the river? hope you didn't send me a nude because if you did, flounder definitely saw it." she plops down at the counter and sniffs at the lit candle, likely placed there to calm penny's nerves. her nose wrinkles at the soft vanilla scent. "is flounder a girl? like i know sebastian is a jamaican dude. like the cinnamon apple jax guy. but -- flounder? i never really knew. because if he's a bro-fish, he might like totally be into that."
riley fought back a laugh , rolling her eyes as she straightened from her little kick of desperation to the machine. her cheeks burned with embarrassment , but his easygoing attitude made it all feel a little less mortifying. " oh , yeah , the 'kick it till it works' strategy has been my go-to forever , " she said with a grin , her gaze flicking from his tumbler back to him. " i usually try to be a little more graceful, but apparently, today’s not that day. " she exhaled , watching the machine stubbornly refuse to cooperate. " maybe i’ve unlocked a new skill. maybe i should just start kicking everything that frustrates me , " she added with a sideways glance. " kick my way to a better day — could be my new philosophy. " when he suggested going for real food, riley tilted her head slightly , a smirk still on her lips. " is this your move with everyone who runs into you ? ask them out for lunch ? " she raised an eyebrow , the vibe between them feeling much more natural now. " but hey, since i knocked your water over and this thing is useless, i’d feel terrible letting you go without getting something in your system. you wanna lead the way ? "
felix was equal parts entertained and impressed as the blonde aimed a swift kick at the vending machine, the force of it making the whole thing shudder but refusing to free a single snack. "damn, okay. wasn’t expecting the brute force method, but maybe violence is the answer," he teased, gaze shifting from the machine to her, like he was trying to decide which one was more stubborn. "so, is this your usual strategy for life? just... kick things until they work? because truth be told, i’m both a little concerned and kinda into it." he looked back at the machine, as if willing it to spit something out just to save them both from further embarrassment. no luck. his tumbler was still rolling somewhere behind them, but he had momentarily abandoned the idea of retrieving it. a hand raked through his hair as he shot her a lazy grin. "alright, maybe we should accept defeat and go get some real food like normal, functioning adults."
✩ ‧ ₊⋆ .* : . CLOSED FOR : @gamecfchance
two weeks. fourteen days. three hundred and thirty-six hours. that’s how long it’s been since penny last saw her. since she’s heard anything real , anything beyond the few scattered texts that did nothing to quiet the constant knot in her stomach. she’s tried to keep it together — tried to throw herself into work, into anything that might keep her from spiraling. but it’s when she forgets to do her warm-ups before the second act , too distracted checking her phone , that it really hits. when she almost misses four cues in a single performance , her mind anywhere but the stage , that’s when she knows — she can’t keep pretending she’s fine. she has to call again. she’s given drew space. figured there was a reason for the silence , something she shouldn’t push. but that reasoning only gets her so far when it feels like she’s been abandoned — like she’s been led to believe in something , only to be left standing alone. when she’d knocked on drew’s door a few nights ago , her roommates had no real answers for her. now , sitting curled up on her couch, her phone cold and useless in her hands , she gives in. again. she dials. voicemail. again. "hey. i know i said i’d stop calling. and at this point , i get it — you don’t want to talk to me. you want nothing to do with me anymore , fine. but can you just — just give me a sign of life ? please ? i feel like you at least owe me that. just let me know that you’re okay. or if you’re not. just … please , drew. please." by the time she ends the call, her hands are shaking. she stares at her phone for a long moment, then sets it down, swallowing against the lump in her throat.
" i bet you're not going to believe me if i say that one of my cast mates is a massive hockey fan , right ? look — ice hockey isn't a big deal in the uk. i'm intrigued okay ? you can't blame me. plus , you always seem to notice i'm there so it's not like you're complaining now , is it ? "
˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ↪ closed for @velvetysage ˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ .
"i've seen you at practically every game, can't tell if you're a big fan of the game or a stalker at this point."
" yeah , what are you saying ? cause last time i checked , i just turned 29 . . right ? . . . but look , at this point i'm starting to think you might be the only one would who would put up with my nonsense. guess i better start working on my proposal skills . . . you know , just in case. "
˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ↪ closed for @velvetysage ˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ .
"remember that dumb pact we made when we were little stating that we'd marry each other if we're single by like thirty?"
" trust me, the last thing i want to be doing is wasting my energy on you. hate ? actually , how about extremely aggravating and borderline intolerable ? you seem pretty good at ruining your own day, so i guess that’s a talent. no need for me to step in. "
˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ↪ closed for @velvetysage ˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ .
"for someone who claims that they hate me so much, you surely do enjoy staring at me.. did you need something? or did you just pop up to ruin my day?"
There is a sort of constant battle between the two of them to the degree that they are fighting, but they are taking care of one another. When the sugar goes on the cheek of Patrick, Art takes it off with his hand in a very nice gesture of kindness -- and very intimate, I would say. But at the same time, they are really tense. And I think it’s about being jealous of one another, but at the same time wanting one another.
Challengers (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino
enemies to lovers except muse a has been pining over muse b from the moment they met, muse b is the only one insisting they’re actually enemies.
I love a touchy mf.. like hug me, kiss me whenever you want, just love on me
riley's heart skipped a beat as she collided with the guy, the impact knocking the breath out of her as his water tumbler soared through the air, followed by what could only be described as a moment of complete and utter chaos. her coffee cup wobbled dangerously in her hand, and for a second, she thought it was going to spill all over her. but nope, she somehow managed to keep it upright, which was a small victory in itself. she glanced at the tumbler — now rolling across the floor — and immediately felt a wave of mortification. “oh, god, i’m so sorry,” she blurted, instinctively reaching out to steady herself, though she couldn’t quite tell if she was apologizing for the collision or the aftermath of water flying everywhere. when she looked up, the guy was grinning at her, a teasing smile on his lips that somehow disarmed her frustration. he wasn’t angry — no, he was... amused. great. that made her feel so much better. she ran a hand through her hair, trying to regain some shred of composure, though it didn’t help at all. “i swear, i’m usually way more coordinated than this,” she said. her eyes flicked to the machine, which had now become the object of her absolute disdain. "i’m definitely not here to fix it, sorry to bring you even more tragedy,” she added, nodding toward the malfunctioning snack dispenser like it was the source of all her current embarrassment. she took a deep breath and then gave him a half-smile. "i usually just do this..” which was then followed by her kicking the machine enough to give it a bit of a shake, hoping that it would work in her favor.
♡ → closed starter delivery for @velvetysage
he was in the middle of a very serious negotiation with the lobby vending machine when someone collided into him at full speed, sending his water tumbler flying ( and his dignity ) right along with it. "jesus—" felix started, but then he turned to face them - wide eyes, out-of-breath, clutching a coffee cup like it was a lifeline - and, well, he wasn't exactly mad anymore. "you always body-check strangers or am i just special?" he teased, stepping back just enough to get a better look. they were flustered, clearly in a rush, but there was a certain electric aura, like they could talk their way in or out of anything if given five uninterrupted minutes. "please tell me you're here to fix this thing," he nodded at the vending machine, "because i'm one lost snack away from a full breakdown."
PUBLIC COMMISSION — by clicking on the source link you will find a page with 501 gifs, all made from scratch by myself, of joe keery in interviews. joe is white and is currently 32 years old. i don’t care what you do with these, just don’t be gross and don’t claim them as your own. if using these, give this post a reblog. thank you !
okay . . . catch me actually working on my proper muses page tonight and hopefully posting and replying to some open starters ! ! !
yes im always a little sick to my stomach with anger and rage. why do u ask?
OLIVIA HOLT reveals which slasher villains she would 'fix' or 'dump' (x)
céleste’s smirk lingered, amusement flickering behind her gaze. he was quick. smooth. predictable in some ways, but in others? not at all. his confidence wasn’t new to her — the men she had been around in her life had lived and breathed it. but the way he wore it, like a second skin rather than something performative, that was what made him stand out compared to all the rest. "i will be impressed if you last the entire session without needing a break." a beat. her gaze swept over him, like she was already calculating his limits before they’d even started. “not to worry .. it is after all also my job to make sure you don’t push yourself too much. or at least not to a point where you never want to book another session. as he squared his shoulders, slipping back into his usual self-assured posture, she took a step back from the window. "coach?" she arched a brow, amusement playing at the corners of her lips. "i may not do pep talks and participation trophies. but let it be known, i’m not one to take it easy." she let the words settle between them, her gaze unwavering, "i train hard." her voice was calm, steady, but there was something else beneath it — a quiet challenge, an unspoken dare. she reached for her phone to check the time. " but we’ll start easy. now, show me the way to the gym.." a deliberate pause, just long enough for him to register that she wasn’t actually planning to start easy at all. "unless, of course, you’d prefer to keep standing there, looking pretty, and wasting time." she tilted her head slightly. "your call, jameson."
insufferable. the word dripped from her lips like something honeyed, meant to stain, but he let it seep, wearing it like a second skin. it wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, but coming from her? well. he almost wanted to hear it again. cerulean hues moved to where she’d set the bottle down, noting the control she seemed to possess with every small action she took. alec wondered how much of it was habit and how much was defense. either way, he wasn’t in a hurry to figure it out. "exhausting myself trying to impress people has never been my style," he replied lazily. "but placing my energy elsewhere? guess we’ll see how much of that energy i have left by the time you’re done with me." his smirk deepened, but there was an undercurrent beneath it. one part amusement, one part something else entirely. whatever game they were playing, she was keeping up, maybe even a step ahead, and that was rare. but for now, he reminded himself that she was here to work. he straightened his posture, stretching out his arms before rolling his shoulders back, his expression slipping back into something cocky, self-assured. "alright, coach," alec began, "are you going to keep staring at me, or are we starting this session?"
