Realistic or Modern Auburn Springs

[Winona]

Rx (Medicate)

Drake

There was a part of Drake that, when he'd woken up that morning, had strongly considered just... not... going to school.

On good days, he was up by four or five in the morning to go for a run. On good days, Drake might even do his homework, and he'd be showered, dressed, and ready to go with a half hour or so to spare before it was time to leave for school.

On bad days, Drake would toss and turn on his old, lumpy mattress and he'd contemplate if getting up was even worth it. On bad days, he'd decide that getting up wasn't worth and about half an hour before it was time to leave, Mason would pull of his blanket or snap at him to get his lazy ass out of bed and get dressed, and he'd do so, albeit sluggishly, and be ready right as the bus was pulling to a rolling stop outside.

Today had been a bad day.

He'd fallen into a fitful sleep sometime early the previous night in his clothes from Sunday, and he'd woken up in those exact same clothes. Drake's sluggish movements and lack of time meant that all he'd really had time to do was change his jeans out for a new pair, give himself a quick sniff test (he smelled eh), and then brush his teeth. And to be honest, brushing his teeth had been pushing it.

Every moment he took today felt as if he was dragging cement blocks tied to his feet. He felt weighed down, helpless, as if he could barely lift his arms to do anything. Fuck, Drake couldn't even really bring himself to care that he'd... shown up un-showered, his hair a matted, tangled mess, and his hoodie wrinkled from being, well, slept in. He normally couldn't be bothered to care about most of that but on today, his lack of care about himself was even more apparent.

After arriving at school, Drake didn't take long to depart from Mason -- his brother had important shit or something to do, undoubtedly, and Drake really couldn't be bothered to listen to whatever Mason had rambled on about.

Instead, he took off, lumbering away from the front of the school to head towards the back where there'd be less witnesses. Less people to see him, because his rushed morning had meant that Drake was rolling off of a faint hangover high from the night before, but nothing more. Drake hated hangover highs, because they were always weaker, and they were always waning, and the idea of facing anything sober scared him.

At least when he was numb, the voice screaming in his head that he was useless was quieted.

It was still there, but muffled. Smothered underneath a haze of drugs.

So he'd taken a joint out and now, he had it dangling loosely from his lips while he fished around for his lighter. Drake's head had lulled down, partially because when he was thinking, he tended to keep his head down, but also because keeping his head upright and fighting the force of gravity was incredibly hard work and Drake quite simply couldn't be bothered to do so. Not today.

His trudging, lumbering pace with head down meant that it was only a matter of time before he bumped into someone -- especially given how crowded... well, everything about Auburn Springs now was with the addition of the Ambridger students.

He lifted his head as he felt himself knock against someone, his expression generally uninterested and cloudy as he looked up. "Hey, dude, I'm..." he trailed off, and a lazy smile crossed his face, flashing briefly before it fell and disappeared -- as one would expect. "Hey, hey sorry," he said when he recognized Link. Well, couldn't say that running into Link was the worst thing, better than some Springer steroid junkie that would beat his ass.

Drake seemed to then remember the joint dangling from his mouth, and he grabbed it between two fingers, holding it up. "Wanna come with me?" He asked, wiggling the joint as he spoke.

| mentions: N/A | interactions: Link | tags: gh0stwriter |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Lost Boys

Xander

Perhaps it was the endless fountain of optimism that seemed to pour from Xander, but he was feeling pretty good about this whole public school thing these days. For one, he now actually had friends -- like real friends, that he could hang with and stuff. It was great. It was amazing. It was mind-blowing, mind-boggling, like include some explosion noises and fireworks right here to express just how absolutely amazing it was.

Plus, Darcy was home. Xander couldn't help but have felt a touch of guilt for the time that she was away seeing as how it was... kind of his fault... so now that she was free and back at home where she belonged? Well, Xander was hoping that things could return back to normal. That the whole... experience that she'd been through hadn't changed her too much, and the twins would go back to their previous iteration of being closer than two peas in a pod without skipping a beat.

But Darcy wanted to see her old friends or blah, blah, blah, but hey, he'd seen her over the weekend.

But today?

Today was reserved for Xan hanging out with his new bestie, Katee Nausbaum, aka the other half of Harry Nut.

Their friendship had started from a bit of an odd moment, when the two of them had gotten high with a couple others at the festival, and he'd been really afraid that Nut wouldn't want to talk to him following that debacle. Xander really had thought that the guy knew what was in the brownies, and he'd felt immense guilt when he found out that wasn't at all what Nut had expected the brownies to be.

So hey, the fact that their friendship could overcome that bumpy start obviously just proved how strong their friendship was.

Xander and Katee... Harry and Nut... friends to the end, that's how he saw it.

Also their alter-egos sounded like cool superhero names.

(Harry and Nut were clearly the best superhero names -- don't even question it.)

So, when Nut came walking up to Xander as he entered the school, there was a beaming smile printed across the boy's face.

"Hey," Xander returned the other boy's greeting. He readjusted the backpack on his, well, back, his grin turning a touch mischievous. Yeah, this time, he was pretty sure that Harry Nut was of one brain. "You ready to get outta here and have some real fun?"

Yep, because there was nothing quite as fun as skipping school and causing havoc in bright daylight.

| mentions: Darcy | interactions: Nut| tags: ditto |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

KATEE NAUSBAUM

the snitch

(tw: mentions of verbal and physical child abuse)

As Nut approached Xan, he felt happiness and excitement drum in his chest.

Xander! Xan Man! Xander the Mander! Commander Xander! Harry! The other half of Harry Nut!

Nut had said that his weekend sucked, sure. He’d been bullied by Natalie, sure. He’d been threatened by Garrett, sure. He’s cried in front of them, sure. He’d vomited in front of them, sure. He’d tried to pretend that nothing happened, quickly given up, and run back home, sure. He’d used a few of the last pumps from his inhaler then, sure. He’d come home to a drunken mom and an empty wallet sitting atop broken beer bottles on the kitchen table, sure. He’d had to ask said drunken mom about a new inhaler, which had earned him a disgusted look, a barrage of harsh words, and a slap to the face that left his neck sore all week from the whiplash, sure.

But there was something to be said about Nut’s undying “optimism” and his ability to find some “good” in everything, for better or for worse. In this case, it was definitely for the worse— now, Nut was nearly convince that his weekend hadn’t really sucked.

You know, Natalie’s bullying could have been far worse. Garrett only threatened Nut because he cared about Natalie, and it was nice to know that Natalie had someone who cared about her who was actually a tolerable person— er, nice for Natalie to know. He’d cried in front of them, but not as hard as he could’ve. And, yeah, that’d embarrassed him. Yeah, that was really bad. But it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been. He’d puked, which was also embarrassing, but at least he had less to puke up later. He’d all but used up his inhaler, but at least he’d done that instead of run out and had an attack. The wallet on the table was empty, but there was a wallet, and at least the slap to the face hadn’t left anything that was visible for more than a day.

With Xan in front of him, everything seemed brighter, ya know, and it made him realize that him being down about that sucky weekend was stupid to begin with because the weekend hadn’t been that sucky at all.

However, Xan’s words kind of confused him. Of course, Nut had to get a hug before he could ask any questions— it was Nut’s routine to get a hug and then speak. It made logical sense to do it that way.

He took a step back from Xan, and then he paused a second to remember what Xan had said.

You ready to get outta here and have some real fun?

“Get outta here?” Nut cocked his head. “Whaddoyamean?” He looked around, trying to think of where here could have meant. He looked back to Xan, raising an eyebrow. “You mean, out of math class?” he asked incredulously. His eyes widened as he convinced himself that that was what it was. “Do you have some kind of excuse? Do they give—“ He gasped with an idea. “Ooh, ooh! Does this school give get outta class passes?” That had to be it. “That sounds like something a fancy school like this would have!” He nodded. Yes, yes.

He paused a moment, cocking his head again. “Wait, how did you get one?” Nut asked. “One of those pass things?” Because those did exist. “Was it hard? Did you have to pay? Or did you just have to talk to the right ‘connections’?” He gasped again. “Ooh, like a spy. Secret agent guy. Secret Agent Harry.” He grinned, taking the chance to throw in his own flex. He crossed his arms with a chuckle. “Hey, I have pretty great connections, too. The lunch ladies love me. They give me extra corn.” He held up two intertwined fingers. “Sherry and me are tight as fuck. She calls me Nut and everything.” He gave a sure nod. “She draws her eyebrows on weird, but that’s okay.”

He realized what he said a moment after he said it, and he gasped softly. Frantically, he held his hands out from himself, and he shook his head wildly. “Wait, wait! Don’t tell her that I said that!” he said quickly. “They look like sausages is all!” He held his pinkies over his eyebrows to demonstrate. “Like this. See? I-I didn’t mean it insultingly!” He gave his surest shrug and a smile. “A lot of people at this school have weird eyebrows.” He paused a moment, cocking his head. “Is that a rich person thing?”

He paused again, and then he realized that they were very sidetracked from the original conversation, which tended to happen when he spoke. Where were they?

“Ohhh, how you’re getting us out of class,” Nut said, answering his question aloud, and then he raised an eyebrow at Xan once more. “Wait, but do you have two passes or something? There are two of us. You and me.” He blinked in genuine confusion. “What?”

mood
hey!

location
the front of the school

outfit
something

playing...
monster (under my bed)

by call me karizma​

mentions
natalie & garrett

interactions
xander

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

The perfect description for Prim's weekend would be uneventful. Besides the fact that she ruined her father and his wife's anniversary by just storming out of the house, and having to spend time with Mr. The Power of Friendship can solve anything as a result of her actions, was it karma because of her past decisions? She couldn't really tell, not that she despised talking to that Xander guy at the bonfire, it was better than just standing there alone and it helped her stop thinking about her father, so he had some points on his favor, but would she go out of her way to talk to him and befriend him and act as they were the closest friends, not really. Besides what could be the possibilities they even attend the same high school? If that was the case then of sure life was just making fun of her.

But even if she wanted to make the weekend longer she couldn't and now she was supposed to attend class, not like she was excited about it, who would be excited to attend their first day of high school after moving from another city, she literally had a target on her back that scream Look at me I'm the new kid. But still, she needed to attend because her skipping class wouldn't help her case, so after a long debate on thinking about how could she avoid making that day less annoying. She just decided on jet being done with it and the faster she was there the sooner it would end or at least that what she wanted to think.

To be honest Primrose didn't expect a lot from a public school, just a bunch of teenagers running around the hallways trying to make it on time to their classes and living for the school team as if their life depended on it, she wasn't really amused on the environment, but is not like she could come and change everything to her pleasure, she just needed to make the best with what she had been offered to leave Auburn Springs and if attending this place was her ticket out of here, she would accept, she would even join some of those extracurriculars clubs just to prove she was starting to socialize and not being full of herself even if that was a complete lie.

As she made her way on the jungle of students that were in the building she managed to arrive at the office, when she received her schedule and was told to wait for the person that would show her around the school, she wasn't really thrilled about it, but maybe that was better than actually being on her own trying to figure out where her class was, it didn't take long until she heard the voice of a girl talking to her "You must be Primrose, correct? Like the little girl from The Hunger Games?" as she held out her hand, Great now she was not only stuck with a girl that looked like she was most likely the teacher's pet but the one the point out the resemblance of her name to the fictional character, Primrose shook the hand and smile at the girl.

"Primrose Wright and is more as in Dorothea Primrose Campbell, you know, the Scottish poet and writer" she replied, to the girl that introduced herself as Natalie, well at least she wasn't linked to an actress that died by drowning "Thank you for showing me around the school, should we go now? I'm pretty sure you don't want to be late for class"

Location: office | Mood: let's be done with this
Outift: Here | Interactions: Nat ( Winona )

Primrose Wright

Code by Stardust Galaxy​

 

[hery]

the grass is always greener

Edwin Jarvis

Auburn Springs

Another day, another hot prospective babe even more entranced by Edwin's enchanting ways. It felt like a minor victory to have gotten Mer to loosen up so much. It wasn't as though the peppy girl was uptight or anything, but Ed was still impressed to have have such an intoxicatingly entertaining night with her. It was a surprise she didn't have anything else to do than to humor him, but he'd take the win without question. Any time catching the girl alone without the fear (or, rather, apprehension—Ed is never afraid) of her brother sneaking up and strangling him was rare.

Ed retained that positive glow as it rolled over to the next day, then the next. Still, that didn't stop Monday morning from proceeding like any other, with the youngest Jarvis boy being roused by an alarm not one, not two, but three times, only to unplug the damn thing and catch another coveted set of Z's.

That had turned out to be a grave mistake, as Sam awaited Ed just outside his room, being the poor sap tasked with waking his little brother this morning. It was a job no one in the family envied, and exactly why their parents hardly ever were the ones to do so. "Chill the fuck out, I'm getting up!" he shouted, still buried in a heaping mass of blankets. The groggy boy let out an exasperated groan as he listened for his older brother's footsteps shuffling outside the door. "GO!" he hollered, jerking his body upright and hurling a pillow at the door.

He wiped his face with a roll of the eyes, then shed his covers. He looked to the side, reaching a heavy arm over to check the time on his phone. There was absolutely no shock in Ed's realization that he only had a few minutes to get ready if he was going to be on time. Perfect attendance was never his strong suit, not that he cared. The only thing that really kept him attending at all was Syd and Sam's incessant pleas for him to make it out on time so as to not drag all of them down with his habitual truancy.

After throwing on whatever was clean and heading out the door, Ed rode to school with his brother and his brother-cousin-dickhead-whoever-the-fuck-cares. Nothing really mattered at the moment, because Ed's slumber was cut short and he didn't eat and really, anyone that knew Edwin Jarvis for longer than a millisecond knew that he loathed when he didn't get his way.

Whatever.

At long last, Edwin finally escaped Syd and Sam once they reached the school. Almost immediately, he closed as much distance as possible from the two boys, hastily making it out of the student parking lot and into the school building. Down the hall, a certain useless dumbshit Ed called his friend was loitering around alone like a lame-ass puppy. "Fucking Ian," he muttered disappointedly, although the small smirk that cracked upon his face displayed a mere hint of the true fondness he held for one of the only other social outcasts that tolerated him.

"You're such a loner," he teased as he approached Ian, playfully but roughly shoving him by his chest. Making no time for pleasantries, Ed asked, "Did you do the math work?"

That blank look was so, so telling and so, so the last thing Edwin wanted. Not that he didn't expect it from a pointless dumbass like Ian, but the kid did manage to surprise him once in a while. Most surprises were bad, unwarranted, and at Ed's expense, but there was no shame in trying. That was clear from the many times he'd fruitlessly asked girls out, not that he was putting on the full extent of his charm. If Ed was really trying, he'd have had Jade Jennings right under his arm by then.

"God, you're useless," he whined, absolutely unamused by what was probably some stupid, cheeky smile Ian was giving him. Ed didn't even bother to look, turning around and placing his hands on the sides of his head exhaustedly. It was too early to figure this shit out all on his own, once again for the thousandth day in a row.

He turned back around, then met Ian with wide, serious eyes. "Dude, I can't fail this stupid ass class right now. Miss Asscrackey's been calling home like crazy and I'm pretty fucking sure one of these days my mom is actually gonna answer." He waited a half-second before widening his eyes more, seizing Ian by the shoulder and shaking him violently. "Take this shit serious!"

The irritated sophomore let his friend go, heaving a few shallow, shaky breaths. This anger management thing was fucking hard and fucking stupid. "Listen," he commanded in a lower tone, "You're gonna come help me cheat this shit before school starts. Let's go."

With that, Ed yanked Ian by the wrist and turned toward the library, which had to be the most likely destination to contain whatever uninteresting, grade-saving knowledge he sought. That knowledge wasn't math concepts, of course. Simply put, the lavishly-funded computer lab had to be the most likely candidate for scrounging up an answer sheet, unless the two wanted to brave pillaging Ms. Mackey's class themselves. Worse, the option of tutoring was available, not that Ed even saw it as an option for a moment. The lady cared and all, which was nice, but calling home and failing tests is still a dick move no matter how you slice it.

Hm... would threatening to beat up one of those wimpy student tutors unless they did their homework work instead? There were a multitude of options and a shortage of time. Ed and Ian could not afford to waver then, especially if Ed's entire life and standing with mommy dearest was on the line. Ed's problems were always top priority in that way; everything was the end of the world if it didn't work out in his favor.

| mood: coooool | outfit: clothes | location: school | mentions: Syd, Sam, Jade, Mer| interactions: Ian | tags: ditto |

 

[ditto]

IAN HANSEN

the baddest boy

Two words: okay.

Wait, that was one.

It was two letters, though. Words, letters. Same thing, right? Close ‘nuff.

Anyway, the weekend had been okay, Ian guessed. Nothing like what he expected, but still okay.

‘Cuz hey! He got to hang with Jade! That was always cool.

But there was also the added factors of Rory and big grr testosterone goat sex guy, and that diluted things to being just so-so. Ian spent the whole night with shaky hands and sweaty palms, trying to glare into Goat Fucker Guy’s back enough to get him to go away and nearly jumping out of his skin every time he caught him. That was the pits, man.

Not to mention, he’d failed to open every bottle of beer that he tried to drink. The first time of the night had been the head slam, then he’d tried to gnaw off the cap, then he’d tried to open it with his elbow. All of them were impressive methods. Ya know, things bad boys did. Things cool boys did. But none of them fricking worked, and he was forced to give his sister all of his bottles to open.

He tried to smoke, too, and nearly coughed up his lungs, and he…uhhhh, didn’t feel like sampling the strong alcohol because it wasn’t going to be good enough for his tastes. Yeah, Ian was a…uh…wine…snob? But with vodka. And, uh…

(What was another kind of alcohol?)

But— but hey! Listen! That didn’t mean that Ian wasn’t cool— he’d just looked not bad. He was still the baddest…but he’d lowkey looked very fucking lame in front of Jade.

But— uh, but lame in a cool way. Even Ian’s lame was the fricking coolest.

Rory hovered over him all night, anyway. It wasn’t like he could’ve gotten drunk with her around. Even when Janice “shared” her wine, Rory would snatch the bottle before he could get more than sip or two.

And it also wasn’t like he could’ve gotten drunk with her not around. He’d never, uh…tried to.

Er…did you try to get drunk?

But— but bad boys didn’t necessarily need to have gotten drunk before. Bad boys said…uh…no…to…alcohol! Or something like that, yeah. Mmhm. And you didn’t know that because only the baddest knew that fact.

Rory hovering around wasn’t only keeping him from getting drunk. It was also keeping him from getting laid. And having fun. And…getting injured. And having anything better than an okay night.

D-Don’t get him wrong, though. He loved his sister. He knew she only wanted the best for him or whatever.

But the best wasn’t helicopter sis-ing.

(He couldn’t and didn’t tell her that, though. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings.)

As he entered the school, following behind his sister as usual, Ian set his eyes on the ground. He gripped his backpack straps, pulling his shoulders in smaller, and his left forefinger rubbed a blue Paw Patrol bandaid on his thumb. The skin on his neck pricked up, and he became aware of everything from his footsteps to his blinking to the fact that his fricking socks were mismatched and he’d missed that fact.

Small guy, big school. Bad boys could feel awkward in a situation like that, right? It was okay then?

Uh, not that he felt awkward. Don— don’t get him wrong, uh…

He ducked his head and sped up, his steps becoming smaller and almost waddle-like as he tried to pass his sister. When he caught up with her, he lifted his head for a moment. “Hey, Rory, I’m gonna head tothebathroomIthink,” he said, giving her a smile and speeding up his words as he started to move where she couldn’t hear him. “Ireallygottapissbye!”

He quickly turned to enter the bathroom—

But he instead walked straight into a wall, narrowly missing the entrance.

He stumbled back, blinking in bewilderment, and then he glanced around to make sure that no one saw. He caught some girl looking, so he gave her a smile and laughed awkwardly, turning back to the wall and giving it a solid pat. “Yeah, nice, uh…nice wall here! Sturdy as hell!” he said loudly. He turned back to the girl with two thumbs up, but she had already turned away.

He froze his posture for a moment, with his thumbs, one thumb covered in pink marker and the other with a Paw Patrol bandaid on it, sticking straight up, and then he dropped it and dashed into the bathroom.

Whew! He’d played it off like a champ.

He exited the bathroom, hands still slightly sudsy, and made his way toward his locker, walking at a slow, staggered pace down the hallway, looking around at the faces. He self-consciously moved around his jaw, smiling shy smiles at the people who happened to make eye contact with him.

(Uh…yeaaaah, bad boys could smile at people. Mmhm. And bad boys didn’t have to act like they were limping because they got their toe cut off in a barbed wire fence when they’d actually stepped in a trap of Legos with needles hot-glued to them that they’d set up to see how much it would hurt. (Spoiler alert: it hurt very, very bad.) People might say that they couldn’t, but they’d be wrong. Take it from the baddest boy.)

He reached out toward his locker just as a familiar voice spoke to him.

“You’re such a loner.”

Ian turned toward the voice just as Ed shoved him roughly in the chest. Ian moved one hand from a backpack strap to clutch the spot where he’d been shoved, but a small smile came onto his face, and he laughed his syllabic laugh. “Edwiener,” he said, saying a top tier insulty name that Ian totally had not spent the past three days trying to think of as retaliation for forcing Ed’s him to clean out the water jugs all last week.

“Did you do the math work?” Ed asked.

Ian blinked at his fellow water boy. “Uhh…” He gave an awkward smile and a sheepish laugh. “Yeaaaaaaaaaaah, yes," he said slowly. "I did two of them.”

By two of them, he did not mean two pages of the work. He meant two problems.

(And he’d gotten them both wrong, even with a calculator.)

"God, you're useless," Ed moaned. He turned around and put his hands on the sides of his head.

Ian stared at him, his eyebrows knitting together. “Are you…tired?” Ian asked, but then he realized that he sounded to concerned, and he laughed his syllabic hahaha. “Insomniac-y pussy, hahahaaa,” he drawled slowly, in a quiet voice— so as not to sound worried, you know?

Ed turned back around, and Ian took a step back when he saw the seriousness in Ed’s eyes. Was he about to get his ass beaten again?

“I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it!” Ian yelped quickly, holding his hands up.

“Dude,” Ed started, and Ian drew in a sharp breath, expecting a punch or a wedgie, “I can't fail this stupid ass class right now.”

Ian breathed out his breath, slouching his posture when he realized that he wasn’t going to get punched now.

“Miss Asscrackey's been calling home like crazy and I'm pretty fucking sure one of these days my mom is actually gonna answer,” Ed said.

"You're failing?" Ian cracked a grin, suddenly confident thanks to the lack of punching. “Sounds like a biiiiitch problem to me,” he said.

(Ian was also failing, but that fact wasn't important right now.)

Ed’s eyes widened further, and Ian took another step back and considered dashing. Before he could swear that he didn’t mean it, Ed seized him by his shoulders and shook him violently. Ian’s heart caught in his throat, and his big eyes widened.

"Take this shit serious!" Ed snapped.

“Okay!” Ian whispered, entire body rigid.

Ed let him go, and Ian maintained his stiff posture for a second. He apprehensively relaxed his shoulders, but the wide, deer-in-the-headlights look stayed on his face.

”Listen," Ed said in a lower tone, and Ian looked at him.

“What?” Ian asked cautiously.

"You're gonna come help me cheat this shit before school starts.”

“What?”


“Let's go."

“Wait, chea—“

Ed snatched Ian’s wrists and started to drag him toward…uh, somewhere.

Ian’s heart thudded in his chest. “Uh, uh, Ed,” he said in a low voice, grimacing at how tight his friend was holding his wrist. “Ed, Ed, Ed…psst, hey.” He strained to pull his wrist free. He swallowed hard. “We aren’t breaking into…Miss McBitch’s class, right? Heh, not that that scares me or anything, hahahaaa, but…we’re not doin’ that, right?”

Just as he finished his last question, they arrived at— oh.

“Heh, the library,” Ian said, smiling in relief as they entered the doors. “That’s where we were going. I knew that.”

He paused a moment, then looked at Ed incredulously. “Are we…seriously gonna dig through all these books for the answers? You think they have the answers for math in books? Books have words, not numbers,” he said confusedly, and he lowered his voice to a whisper again to add, “stupid idiotface, hahahaaa.”

(Yes, it was a necessary addition— he had to assert his, uhhh…dominance.)

mood
how does this work hahahahaaa

location
the library hahahahaaa

outfit
hahahaaa this probably violates dress code but i dont give a fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck hahahaaa

playing...
rebels

by call me karizma​

mentions
rory, lance, & jade

interactions
ed

tags
hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Aristocrat by New Politics

Natalie

No, Natalie didn't know who she was talking about -- she attended public school and although the public school had a decent education, it was still public school. No public school taught obscure poets and writers, and she had to bite back a sharp retort. It was, after all, her job to try and pretend to be a... polite... nice... guide to the new girl, no matter how hard she was rolling her eyes on the inside.

Maintain a polite air. That was the goal.

So even though she was quietly stringing along a list of curses at the other girl in her head, Natalie maintained a sweet smile. She was kind of good at that -- faking it till you make it type of thing. She could easily act one way, even if she felt a completely different way without a single thing hinting towards her actual opinion. It was like... one of the few skills the rather vapid girl actually possessed.

She let out a small laugh at Prim's comment. To anyone that knew her, it would be easy to note the slightest tinge of cold at the end of her laugh, but this was a girl that didn't know her, so Natalie could afford to slip up a little bit.

"I can't say that I have," she explained, "I don't really spend much of time reading, and that's not a writer we've covered in classes." Inwardly, her eyes were rolling, but she held physical eye contact with the other girl. Even if she thought this entire exchange was already off to a bit of a rough start. Like... the kind of start that, if the school didn't expect her to be here, she'd probably turn and walk off.

"Of course," Natalie continued without skipping a beat. She beckoned with a hand for the other girl to follow her, and then held a hand out for her schedule so that Natalie could ensure that the tour was actually helpful. "Tell me about yourself while we look around." Not that she actually cared -- she would yawn if, again, she wasn't maintaining a fake air of politeness. Instead, Natalie had to fake being actually intrigued.

"Do you participate in sports of any kind? I'm on the cheer team and we could always use more cheerleaders," she started and it was true -- the cheerleading team was embarrassingly empty, and the only active, enthralled members of the team seemed to be the sophomores.

How embarrassing, really, for the only school spirit to be held in the youngest members of the school. And it wasn't as if the sophomores really knew what they were doing quite yet with the whole cheerleading thing -- and Natalie could speak from experience, given the fact that she herself was a sophomore cheerleader.

| mentions: Nut, Jade | interactions: Primrose| tags: Stardust Galaxy |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Lost Boys

Xander

Man, Nut was so funny. Like seriously, probably one of the funniest guys that Xander had ever had the pleasure of being able to meet and being able to call his friend. In response to his buddy's questions about them getting get out passes or whatever it was, Xander let out a guffaw of laughter. This dude was so funny -- acting as if he'd never heard of skipping classes or considered it in his life.

Imagine that -- never thinking about skipping. Pfft. Xander couldn't imagine, because he'd considered skipping nearly every day of school for the last few years, and he had skipped a considerable amount that last year at the old private school. At this point, he was more or less convinced that skipping and wanting to skip was just basically a... like a feeling that everyone shared. A mutual thing, like the one thing that all students could agree on, ya know? That school would be better if it was just skipped, and it wasn't as if skipping was actually that hard to do.

Just had to deal with them calling your parents, but Xander's parents didn't really throw a fit over it these days. Plus, well, skipping was nothing compared to what he usually got in trouble for, or... well, what Darcy had.

Skipping pretty much just earned a nice little finger waggle in his direction.

"Nut, my man," he said with a laugh as he turned on his heel and started back towards the front doors that he had just entered through. "You're funny. Anyone ever tell ya that? Passes." He let out another snort of laughter, shaking his head at the simple ridiculousness of the entire idea. It was just... it was such an outrageous idea. "Nah, Nut my guy, we're skipping class! It'll be fun. Just for an hour or so. We'll be back for third period."

That was art class. Xander had never missed an art class and he didn't intend to start now.

"Passes..." he laughed again, shaking his head. "You think giving them one of those Monopoly 'get outta jail free' cards would work?" Xander asked, obviously joking. "I wonder if that'd work if they give us detention or something. I don't think they will, though."

Well, Xander knew he wouldn't. It was his first time skipping at this school, but he didn't actually know how safe Nut was. After all, he was from Ambridge. Didn't all the students down there skip out on classes to smoke joints and stuff? God, their detention hall was probably just the last hour of the school day because of how many baddies had to attend every day. Man... that was Xander's kind of school.

Since, ya know, he was such a badass.

Too bad it had to burn down.

"I bet Auburn Springs detention gives you ice cream or something. What was it like back in Ambridge?" He asked, but continued to chatter away without waiting for an answer to his question at first. "Back at my old school, it was so boring. We'd all just sit and stare at a wall, but not a lotta people got detention. They were real strict and usually just went straight to suspension or expulsion."

Unless it was to bully Xander, in which case everyone looked away.

Assholes.

| mentions: Darcy | interactions: Nut| tags: ditto |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

Kill The Director

Ophelia

Ophelia would like to believe she's the second smartest in her family, okay, well, maybe third… fourth? Okay, numbers aside.

She was pretty smart when it mattered.

So…

How the actual fuck could she do something so stupid?

It’s been a little under 48 hours and Ophelia’s brain was spinning of every possibility of what’s going to happen next now that she ruined everything.

But in reality, nothing was ruined.

Well, ruined anymore than it could be.

To clear up some confusion, there were a few messages that transpired between her and one Kassidy Hale.

To which, it went fairly well.

Awkward, almost normal, funny, and then boom— weird.

She made it weird.

She makes everything weird.

God, why did she have to be so fucking weird?

Ophelia stared at the ceiling fan, watching it spin with every annoying creak that followed straight after. One might think it needed oil, but no. It was a really long story about how that fan became… semi-broken.

Her alarm clock went off and she glanced over, taking a deep, heavy, and unnecessary sigh before it took all her might to throw one arm over the snooze button.

No, she wasn’t tired. She’d gotten a few hours of sleep, Ophelia simply has her own internal alarm clock.

That’s just one of her great, amazing, and completely unnecessary gifts that’s not going to help her at all in her adult life.

A set of two footsteps ran past her room, and tiny screaming followed.

“Help! He’s gonna kill me!” Her youngest brother squeaked as a deeper voice could be heard behind him.

“Give me back my damn shoe, what the f—“

His sentence was cut by yet, more screaming, but this time it was followed by pounding onto a nearby door.

“You’ve been in there for twenty minutes!”

You’d think there’d be enough bathrooms in a house of nine people. Turns out there wasn’t. Everyone always needed to be in that same one at the same time.

Finally, a voice called from downstairs, a higher pitched— and the only feminine voice besides her barely echoed through the house.

“Breakfast!”

Ophelia didn’t want to eat.

Ophelia didn’t even want to go to school.

She just wanted to take back that damn heart.

—

She kept true to her word, and barely touched the burnt french toast in front of her eyes as her family scrambled to get ready, began scarfing down their food as if it was their last meal and talked amongst themselves at the table.

Ophelia loved her family, who doesn’t have at least an ounce of ‘love’ for the people you’ve been around your whole life?

Unless you’re some kind of sociopathic, selfish asshole— in a way, Ophelia wishes she was one.

She loved her family, yeah.

But she didn’t like them.

“So, who can pick up the boys after soccer practice?”

“Not me,” Her eldest brother said in the matter of a millisecond, already throwing out an answer before the responsibility was placed onto him.

“I got a thing with some of the guys on the team.”

Excuse number one, from brother number one.

What’s behind door number two?

“Can’t. It’s Elizabeth’s birthday.”

Right. The girlfriend nobody knew anything about and was shut down as soon as the smallest question was brought up.

Jackson was weird.

Private.

Depressing— Maybe she shouldn’t say that, considering he quite literally, was depressed. Although the invisible girlfriend had somehow brightened her brother’s mood. So, despite not knowing anything about her, Ophelia’s parents were happy that… he was sorta happy.

Nobody asked Owen to do much of anything.

They let him have his space, made sure he was fed, comfortable, well taken care of— and he was well on his way to be locked up in the bedroom— by choice, of course.

He didn’t like people very much unless it was over a screen.

Believe it or not, if she had to choose a favorite brother— it’d be him.

Or Luke.

Who was… entirely too focused on his meal to even answer their mother.

“Lucas?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have plans after school?”

“I’ve got a competition, today.”

Righttttt.

But it wasn’t just any competition.
Lucas was an athlete of course.

Not like Ethan was though.

Oh no, he was a mathlete.

Yup. That’s right.

Her brother was a gold star, quarterback for numbers.

Or… whatever the fuck all that was.

Her father was busy attending to his now-failing business, her mother with her own newfound passion for her job. Her brothers? Busy. All eyes shifted to her, a 5’6” newly-short haired brunette, french toast in hand-- halfway into her mouth as they awaited her answer.

She opened her mouth and realized she had entirely too much food in her mouth to speak.

Ophelia merely blinked instead of talking, barely even getting the chance to swallow her food before the responsibility was on her.

“Great. It’s settled.”

She wasn’t surprised.

It’s how this usually goes, anyway.

“Uh, I have band practice though.”

Y’know, the band her and Chris formed over the summer.

The summer that collapsed her entire social life.

At least something good came out of it.

Ophelia’s words were drowned out as her father sparked a conversation with Jackson, fresh into college and everyone was oh-so-incredibly excited for him.

She would’ve been excited, too.

…

If he moved into the dorms.

A glance around the table and once she realized absolutely nobody was paying attention to her, the girl simply nodded.

“Alright. Cool guys. Thanks.”

Ophelia grabbed another piece of french toast-- yes, with her hands.

There wasn’t any syrup on it.

It wasn’t that messy.

Shut up.

Anyway, she grabbed her toast and was up and out the door before anyone could stop her with yet another favor.

--

The yellow, electric scooter had a life of its own.

At least, that’s the way it felt.

This thing had practically been her best friend these past few months. Well, besides Chris. She’d never admit to Chris being her best friend, not that she was-- anyway.

You can’t have more than one best friend, man. That’s just how shit goes.

A motorcycle, or a guitar player couldn’t replace someone, y’know?

She shook her head, throwing the ridiculous helmet on and snapping the buckle underneath her neck, going as fast as one woman could on a Vespa.

Oph didn’t have her own car like Ethan.

To be fair, Jackson didn’t even have one.

Lucas didn’t either.

Ethan took priority because of college, Jackson had friends and Lucas… well.

Lucas walked a lot.

Can’t skip leg day, right?

Maybe she didn’t look completely badass on this thing. But it got her where she needed to go.

--

Yeahyeahyeah, a place she needed to go.

But not a place she wanted to be.

Although this time of day wasn’t the absolute worst. Ophelia had a love for all things literature. She wasn’t a writer or anything special. Just a few little… poem… things she’d write from time to time.

Look, she wasn’t amazing okay?

It was just a nice pass time.

Good way to get her emotions out, y’know?

Besides music.

And believe it or not.

As ‘chill’ as Ophelia is, she has… a lot of them.

Emotions, she means, anyway.

And, she had a lot about this particular situation.

Upon walking into the classroom, there were three--

Nope.

Two seats.

And Ophelia had to make a choice.

Sitting down next to one Angeline Jumper, or… James Mccarthy.

And that guy.

Ouch. That guy.

Number one, he smelled like onions at least 90% percent of the time. Who knows if it was because of what he ate that morning, or if it’s what in his deodorant. Does he even use deodorant? And if he does…

Is it shrek themed?

Anyway, everyone hated that guy.

Her choice was easy enough to make here.

Angie wasn’t the worst.

She was just a little intimidating to talk to.

But she was funny.

At least, when she talks down on everyone else it’s funny.

That probably isn’t a good personality trait.

But... if it’s funny it’s funny.

Ophelia never said her sense of humor wasn’t broken.

The girl plopped down onto the seat next to the blonde, taking in the resting bitch face with a grin.

“Do you always look so…” Oph cocked her head to one side, narrowing her eyes at Ange and shaking her head. Deciding not to engage-- Okay, well now she had to. What?

She ain’t a chicken.

“Cocky?”

While she awaited her answer, everyone was eager to get started. Because who knew that teenaged-something individuals had better things to do with their time instead of listening to other people’s words thrown onto a paper?

Ophelia wasn’t the type to share her own ‘work’ with the world. Music was different. That shit was easy. There was just something that felt personal about the poems that she wrote. It felt… like a secret.

At least, most of them did.

“Ophelia. You’re up first.”

Wait.

What?

She didn’t even know she had to prepare something.

“Hold on, I thought we were just… reading--”

“No, we literally talked about this last week. Everyone brings something to share.”

“I didn’t… bring--”

“What about the thing you were writing the other day?” James said and Ophelia froze instantly, glancing towards her bag and towards the rest of the kids.

Well,

Okay.

You see.

That was… written at lunch.

The table she had been conveniently sitting at, across from that table was another table.

And at that table.

Well, someone had been there.

And suddenly words just started coming to her and everything just…

James wasn’t supposed to be behind her, watching her every move, being the weird freak of nature that he was.

“I don’t know, it isn’t really ready. You know? I wouldn’t want to like…” Expectant gazes were on her, and Oph glanced around, standing up from the chair, wiping her hands onto her jeans as if they were already sweaty to begin with.

“I-- uh, you know, yeah. I’ll do it. Not a big deal..” She mumbled, covering a mouth while a ‘cough’ escaped her and she was clearing her throat as she unzipped the bag, pulling out a small journal, flipping to a page and hesitating as the words repeated themselves over and over into her head.

This wasn’t supposed to be…

Look, it was a private thing.

It was just…

Because she felt like writing it. It wasn’t supposed to--

“Today, junior.”

“Jesus, okay.”

She gripped the journal and adjusted herself farther away from the chair, avoiding eye-contact with any of her classmates and instead focusing on the paper in front of her.

“I-- uh,” She cleared her throat for the last time and Ophelia realized she couldn’t stall any longer or else they’d think she’d be having a stroke at this point.

“Summer Rain… she sticks to skin as she does my heart.” She sounded… ultimately, stupid, but she knew that the moment Ophelia allows whatever what was happening to set in... it wouldn't be pretty.

She didn’t have stage fright.

Never.

She just didn’t imagine she’d be reading this outloud for anyone to hear.

“It pours as tears fall from her eyes, the silence sets in for all but a few moments before thunder strikes when she smiles.”

Especially in front of someone’s cousin.

“It smells of freedom and everlasting bliss when she’s near, when she goes there’s always something she leaves behind.”

Sure, everything she’d written wasn’t accurate. But some poems never genuinely made sense unless you were looking at them with a magnifying glass.

Or, unless you were smart enough to put the pieces together.

And thankfully, not many people here had brains.

Ophelia took a pause, freezing up for a moment.

This would be ultimately harder to read if she wasn’t out already. Although it wasn’t like coming out had been a big thing to deal with anyway. Her family was… cool with it. It bothered her dad for a little while, but one day he came home with a bisexual flag and they called it a day.

Ophelia wasn’t bisexual.

He knew that.

He thought that… it was the lesbian flag.

But hey, it’s the thought that counts.

She’d came out a few months back, not everyone was surprised. If anything the only person that was probably surprised was her older brother Ethan, but that’s just because he thought that Ophelia had a crush on Robert Downey Jr for years.

Nah, she just thought Iron man was cool.

“Growth.”

She wondered how news got to her.

How weird it must’ve been for somebody to tell you, that… a kiss was a mistake, and Ophelia was just… confused.

And then suddenly, surprise!

Not so confused?

The funny thing is, she probably didn’t even put much thought into it.

And here Oph was.

Overthinking it.

“And it spreads. Flowers, grass, saplings, emotions.”

Because it was easy to overthink when it came to somebody you cared about.

“All fragile. All so easy to overlook.”

Somebody you missed.

And for some odd, odd, reason. No matter how hard she tried.

“And yet, all so hard to forget.”

Ophelia couldn’t forget the past. Maybe that’s why things are the way that they are now. Because she couldn’t get over how… wrecked she made everything, how weird it felt. How Kass pushed her away.

Personal reasons were a big thing too.

A lot of changes were happening in her life.

She couldn’t blame her.

But Ophelia took a lot of things personally.

And she stopped trying.

The applause from-- only… one person had startled her out of her thoughts, and Ophelia scrambled to put the journal back into it’s place. Avoiding eye-contact with one person in particular, she took her seat.

Thankfully, James was rambling on about something so loud, nobody could possibly hear Oph when she mumbled.

“I hate my life.”

| mentions: Kass | interactions: Ange| tags: ditto jasmyn |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

Has Prim had ever read something from the Scottish writer? The answer was really short and It was a no, but sometimes it was good to have a father whose job was to be a professor of English Literature at the University of Auburn Springs, it helped in some cases like this one, and it was pretty obvious that no one would be an avid fan of someone who was born in 1700, but the joy of showing off and see the faces of the ones that just thought about her name as a flower or a fictional boosted her ego, even though her name was still related to both of them.

"I think she is more of a writer that you cover on the university, rather than the ones you would usually study in high school" Primrose replied to the girl, at least she could be honest about that. Unless that the subjects that they see as a homeschooled student were different than a regular one she was pretty sure that the writer wasn't part of the requirements for a high school writer, after all, she still had the memories of seeing the works on her father studio when she was a child.

At the sign of her small tour was to begin Prim handed her schedule to the girl as she noticed her motion, maybe she was just business and wanted to do things efficiently, not that Prim really mind, it was better for her and she actually preferred getting straight to the point rather than just messing around. As they walk through the school, the other girl asked about herself, a small talk never hurt anybody and there wasn't any indication that they would get closer after that, so sharing about herself was not the end of the world. "I just moved back from New York, It's been a while since the last time I was here, I guess not much has changed since after all this time, I guess based on the schedule you can see I'm a junior. What about you?" She asked, look at her, she was actually trying to have a rapport, but who she was kidding she was just being polite.

It didn't take long for her guide to ask her if she practiced any sport, well at least the conversation was going somewhere that interested her, she listened as to how Natalie told her how she was a cheerleader and how the cheerleading team needed more members, a peak of curiosity settled inside Prim, not that she was ready to throw ballet away for cheerleading, but she just thought it was something that would keep her occupied and out of her house so that way she wouldn't see her stepmother, although she was still recovering from her multiple stress fractures, she was almost clear from them and in reality it was more of a conduct problem why she was sent here rather than just a physical problem, maybe she should have thought better before she started raging after not getting the main role or that time when almost lost it all, with her ballet partner because he was still messing everything.

"I practice ballet, I'm part of the school of American Ballet, but I'm just taking a break, so you could say I have never tried cheerleading before, I have seen some things here and there about it, I guess I could give it a try if I don't find any club that catches my eye" She replied honestly, maybe trying something new was not that bad after all, and she wasn't even sure how long she was going to stay in Auburn Springs, hopefully, she would be gone by the end of the year, might as well being busy with something, but she was sure that even though she could do a cartwheel the moment she was told to do something risky she was gone, she wasn't going to risk to get injured again just for a high school experience.

Location: school | Mood: great a conversation
Outift: Here | Interactions: Nat ( Winona )

Primrose Wright

Code by Stardust Galaxy​

 

[ditto]

angeline jumper

the bitch

Angeline had a personal method of going about social situations in which she was surrounded by people such as those who surrounded her right now: engage as little as fucking possible.

It saved her so much time and effort, honestly. All she had to do was hold herself straight-backed and maintain the look on her face that she always did anyway. People kept away from her, for the most part, and those who didn’t were easy enough to turn away with a maximum of a few sharp comments.

Angie’s gaze flicked to the door as a girl entered only a few moments before the clock hit time to start. Her lip curled upward in disgust, and she let out a long sigh, rolling her eyes.

It was Ophelia Warren. To be honest, Angie didn’t have anything against the girl, but she was walking in late and now she had no choice but to sit beside her. The girl talked a lot, too. Ugh. So much for interacting with as few people as possible.

Ophelia plopped down in the seat beside her, and Angie kept her eyes forward and her hands folded. She knew that it certainly wouldn’t work to turn someone as annoying as Ophelia away from speaking to her, but it was worth the shot in case it did.

“Do you always look so…cocky?” asked the girl after a moment.

Angie let out a soft laugh through her nose, and she sat for a moment, looking straight ahead and pretending that she didn’t hear anything. She slowly unfolded her hands and poised one hand beneath her chin. She turned her head to Ophelia, Angie’s signature smirk on her face. “Do you always look so…greasy?” she asked, mimicking Ophelia’s tone. She gave a laugh. “Hmm…I’ve got some dry shampoo if you’d like to use it…” She gave a wink and a pretty smile. “I’d love to help out a fellow club member.” Her voice curled up at the end of her sentence, as if she was accenting it with the same heart emoji that she always used in text. “Especially one as unfortunate as yourself,” she added, and she turned her head back forward.

A few seconds later, the door was shut, and Angie straightened her back again, looking down at her poem and mouthing nonsensical syllables to seem as though she was reviewing it so that they wouldn’t call upon her first.

That worked; they called Ophelia up first. Of course, she fought back a little bit, and Angie snickered at the whole interaction. It was really kind of pathetic.

She heard movement, and her eyes flicked up to the middle of the circle, where Ophelia now stood.

Angie had to snicker again, a smirk coming onto her face. She looked so awkward. It was just adorable.

As Ophelia stalled with her stammering and throat-clearing, Angie tauntingly rolled her hands in circles, as if to usher her to speak.

“Summer Rain…,” Ophelia started. “She sticks to skin as she does my heart.”

Angie rolled her eyes. Another pretentious poem? God.

“It pours as tears fall from her eyes, the silence sets in for all but a few moments before thunder strikes when she smiles. It smells of freedom and everlasting bliss when she’s near, when she goes there’s always something she leaves behind.”

Ophelia was speaking nearly hesitantly, and the more that Angie listened, the more that she got the inkling that it was something— ugh— “from the heart”. Self-expression, outpouring, all of that. Her interest was piqued, but not because of the words themselves— it was more the feeling behind them.

Angie narrowed her eyes, pressing her hand beneath her chin as she tried to figure out what or who it could be about. Her smirk still lay on her face.

“Growth. And it spreads. Flowers, grass, saplings, emotions. All fragile. All so easy to overlook. And yet, all so hard to forget.”

As Oph finished, Angie’s smirk widened, and she lowered her hand from her chin to clap slowly. She was the only one clapping— how sad was that? She couldn’t help but snicker at that fact.

Ophelia came down to sit, and Angie watched her lips move with some kind of mutter.

With a look of mock sympathy, Angie reached out to place one manicured hand on Ophelia’s shoulder. “Aw, don’t let it get you down,” she said, and her smirk came back onto her lips. “Your thirty Quotev followers are clapping somewhere, I’m sure.”

The rest of the meeting went without a hitch. Angie stood, read her poem about an egret, and sat back down. It was fairly uneventful.

When the meeting disbanded, Angie stood up from her seat and began to make her way towards the door…but she noticed, before she left, that Ophelia was messing around in her backpack, and Angie could do a bit of pressing, honestly.

What was the harm in…hmm…kindly conversing with others at the start of a day?

“Opheliaaa,” Angie drawled, coming to a stop beside her. “I loved your poem. Seriously, your wordsmithing is for the ages.” Her voice dripped sweetness to the point that it was obviously said ironically. “Tell me, though. I have to know—“ She walked closer to her, and she reached out and grabbed her forearm. “Who was your muse?”

mood
hmm? < 3

location
the room where lit club is meeting < 3

outfit
yes, i'm a rich bitch. yes, i wear sweatshirts sometimes. yes, we exist. < 3

playing...
(you're the) devil in disguise

by elvis presley​

mentions
jess & theo < 3

interactions
ophelia < 3

tags
Soap < 3

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

I suck at songs so no song

Kelia

Auburn Springs. Kelia had to admit, it still felt a little weird to show up at such a fancy school after years of attending Ambridge which was anything but. Still, after the weekend...she was more than happy to return to the comfortable and familiar routine that school provided her with. No parties to attend, no mom to insist she go to them, just lessons, books and hours studying in the library. She needed to make up for the studying she missed out on attending the bonfire anyway. Regardless of what her mom thought or said, nothing was guaranteed and she wasn't about to let up and take it easy just because she had been doing well so far. Taking it easy led to carelessness, it led to mistakes, and it could well cause her to trip before the finish line. She would consider relaxing once she had achieved her goal and not a moment before.

Kelia had spent the first few days at Auburn familiarising herself with the school grounds so she wouldn't have to deal with unnecessary detours, and so she walked down the halls with the confidence and familiarity of a long time student, making a beeline for the corridor where her locker was located. Today she had calculus and AP biology, and then she had some readings she needed to do for history so she had to grab that as well. She rounded the corner to where her locker was stopped when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey,"

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Rory waving her over. Ahh hell, she could grab her books later.

"Morning." Kelia greeted as she approached her friend, instinctively scanning her for any signs of injury or the like. She had enough memories of nights spent lecturing Rory while nursing a hangover or patching up an injury that it had become something of a habit to make sure the other girl still had all limbs and was completely intact whenever she saw her.

"You went to the bonfire, right?" Rory asked off-handedly as she grabbed a book out of her locker before slamming it shut and turned towards Kelia. "What managed to get you out of the house? Someone bribe you with extra credit, or...?"

Ugh the bonfire. She would rather not think about that. Kissing Raven had been…great, but also a mistake. You did not kiss your ex. That just brought about trouble, but at least they'd had the sense to stop there and in her defense, she'd done it because she didn't want to see Raven cry, she didn't want to upset her anymore, the kiss didn't mean anything more than that. She still shouldn't have done it though. Stupid, bloody alcohol. This is why she didn't drink. Nothing good ever came out of drinking. Just a bunch of bad decisions.

She rolled her eyes at Rory's comment. "The day they hand out extra credit for attending parties, I will riot." And she was dead serious too. If anyone actually came up with an idea that stupid they ought to be fired, no questions asked.

"But no. My mom forced me to go. She might have thrown out my books if I didn't." The thought made her shudder. Why anyone would do such a thing was beyond her, but her mother was completely capable of doing it if she thought it necessary. Kelia ignored the teasing tone in Rory's voice. She had no idea if Rory had seen her and Raven kiss, there were probably a number of people who had. Either way, she would rather not talk about it. The past was in the past and she'd rather it stay there so she could focus on the present and work towards a better future instead.

"Enough about me. You didn't get up to any rubbish at the bonfire did you?" Rory looked perfectly fine and well but with her you could never really tell. For all her impulsiveness and brash behaviour, she had the devil's luck and always seem to get out of whatever nonsense she started, in far better shape than one would expect.

| mood: don't remind me | outfit: school day | location: school | mentions: Raven | interactions: Rory | tags: Winona |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

Kill The Director

Ophelia

Alright, first off.

Ophelia wasn’t greasy, okay?

besides, there wasn’t any time to shower this morning. But that’s okay because she could just shower later tonight— because night showers were completely underrated in her opinion, and... the bathroom was hard to get into mornings.

Although she had to admit, Angie’s comment was sorta funny. Now, Oph isn’t sure if she meant it in a teasing-ish kinda way, or if Angie’s laugh was the snobby thing that popular chicks at this school studied harder than algebra, but at least they were getting somewhere.

Oph got her to laugh. That’s all mattered. Must’ve been her beaming personality.

By the time the class was done, her horrid scary recital of the poem that she despised right about now, finally; Ophelia was home free.

Home-free when her bag decided to actually zip up instead of getting stuck on the loose fabric of the backpack.

She’s had it for years.

Won’t get rid of it. Memories or some shit, who knows.

“Opheliaaa,”

An eye roll crawled out from the depths of hell and found it’s way onto Oph’s face. With a hard tug, finally the bag zipped up and Oph stood from the floor and swung it over her shoulders. Now meeting Ange face-to-overly smug face.

“I loved your poem. Seriously, your wordsmithing is for the ages.”

Seeing as she’s the only one who applauded and had the audacity to throw a crack at her, Ophelia couldn’t help but take her words as a backhanded compliment.

More like a bitch slap of a compliment, but it is what it is.

“Yeah? I think my thirty-one quotev followers said otherwise.” No, she had no idea what the fuck a quotev was but there was no way Ophelia was gonna let that slide. Had to have some fun with it, y’know?

...

speaking of.

“Tell me, though. I have to know—“ Suddenly, Ange was walking closer to her and before she knew it, her hand was on Ophelia’s arm.

Normally, she’d flip out.

But this was just Ange.

Annoyingly witty, pretty, a major bitch— but again, it was just Ange.

“Who was your muse?”

Boy, did this girl actually think she was about to—

Was this a thing she normally did? talk to people like that and they’ll tell her their deepest, darkest secrets and desires?

Ophelia fought a grin and she glanced around the classroom to make sure nobody was near, her voice fell into a hushed whisper and her gaze darted around ever-so-suspiciously before she spoke.

“Okay, I’ll tell you... but you can’t tell anyone.”

Ophelia began walking out of the classroom; already assuming that Ange, being the gossip hound that she was apparently would follow.

Oph placed a hand onto her own chest, taking a deep breath as the two walked down the hallway.

“It’s not gonna be easy to say this, so... buckle up.” The brunette came to a stop at her locker, messing with the lock for a few moments before it clicked open and she started piling books into it. She waited a little while, y’know to really get Ange’s wheels rollin.’

“... You caught me, Ange.”

She said, grabbing a mini candy bar from the secret stash inside her locker and leaned against the wall of many with a thud, unwrapping the candy and shaking her head as if she disagreed with something.

“My muse— well, Ange. My muse is you. I’m desperately in love with you.” Ophelia put the entire candy bar into her mouth, chewing on it as she glanced towards Angie to gauge her reaction.

“I can’t help it. I love how you put a heart at the end of every sentence of a text message like that one spongebob episode where they blow raspberries every five seconds,”

Ophelia was indeed, joking—of course. But her tone had been so serious, for a second, she believed herself.

“Or how you used to cut your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; I think about that every night before bed,”

And finally, for the icing on the cake.
“and my gosh, the way you scare the freshman with one glance, oof, mami— might as well step on me right there and then.”

The girl swung her backpack off of one shoulder in a quick movement, grabbing her water bottle and taking a sip, successfully washing away the chocolate from her teeth so she wouldn’t look like a deranged, greasy, chocolate crazed psycho.

“... so, was it the answer you were craving, deviline? Or was my ‘wordsmithing’ better on paper?”

| mentions: N/A | interactions: Ange| tags: ditto |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

angeline jumper

the bitch

Angeline released Ophelia’s arm as the girl started to make her way out of the classroom. Hm, the girl obviously expected her to follow. How cutely presumptuous of her.

Whatever. She’d indulge her for now.

They came to a stop at the lockers. “It’s not going to be easy to say this, so…buckle up,” Ophelia said, and Angeline raised her eyebrows, feigning interest.

“Do tell, do tell,” she said, her words curling up to form that sweet, heart-like punctuation at the end of her sentence. She moved two lockers down from Ophelia, stooping to reach into her own locker.

“…You caught me, Ange,” said Ophelia.

Angeline glanced up at her as she pulled her small bookbag from the locker. “Did I?” she asked, shifting her expression to mimic surprise. “Oh? I didn’t even realize. With what, might I ask?”

“My muse— well, Ange,” Ophelia started, eating from a chocolate bar that she had taken from her locker. “My muse is you. I’m desperately in love with you.”

Angeline gave a dramatic gasp, bringing a manicured hand to cover her mouth. She stifled a couple of giggles before she played into Ophelia’s attempt at satiating her request for an answer. “Oh my God, there is nooo fucking way!” She moved her hand from her mouth to hold her cheek. “I knew it! Oh my God, it all makes sense now!”

“I can’t help it. I love how you put a heart at the end of every sentence of a text message like that one Spongebob episode where they blow raspberries every five seconds,” said Ophelia, tone serious.

Angeline laughed, and then gasped. “Oh, wow…that’s so sweet— no one has ever told me that before!” Her voice dripped that sugary sarcasm that it always did.

“Or,” Ophelia continued, “how you used to cut your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; I think about that every night before bed.”

“I thought you’d forgotten that!” Angie gasped. “Wow…”

“And my gosh, the way you scare the freshmen with one glance, oof, mami— might as well step on me right there and then,” Ophelia said.

“I only do it to please you, Ophelia,” she said, smiling. “I do it aaaall for you.”

Ew. Gross. Disgustiiiing.

The smaller girl swung her backpack over her shoulder. “…so was it the answer you were craving, Deviline? Or was my ‘wordsmithing’ better on paper?”

“Eh, you could do better,” Angeline said, dropping the sweet tone of her voice to say those words in a monotone, and then she laughed, smiling again. “You are sooo clever, Ophelia. Seriously, you should be a comedian.” She opened her purse, and she reached down and grabbed a tube of lipstick and a compact mirror. “I would be a great muse…,” she began, and she trailed off to lacquer her lips with the red lipstick. She rolled her lips around, then took a pinky on top of and beneath them to clean up the lines before clicking her mirror shut. She rolled down the tube, pulling her face down into a deep frown. “Although your joking about it really hurts my feelings.” She dropped her lipstick into her bag, clutching a hand to her chest dramatically and shaking her head. “To think, I was truly hoping it was about me, but you’re such a terrible liar that you couldn’t even convince me of that.” She sighed deeply, and she giggled softly, through she still kept her face pulled into a deep frown. “Huh…I thought my ego was going to be stroked or something. That’s really the only reason I came to talk to you.” She smirked at her. “It’s the only thing that really Warrented a meeting with you, Warren.”

She had to make the pun, of course— she was Angeline.

She shook her head. “But hm…” She sighed deeply. “Damn, it’s almost like…hm…” She walked closer to Ophelia with a hand on her chin, and she tapped as if she was thinking as she leaned against the locker beside her. “The poem was written about some kind of deep feelings that you don’t want anyone to know about…,” she said wistfully, looking up at the ceiling. She cocked her head, pursing her lips fro a moment. “Or maybe something happened? You were in love with some girl…” Her face broke out into a smile, and she looked down at Ophelia. “…and the love was unrequited?” She stared into her eyes for a moment, holding eye contact, and then she giggled. “Or is that too stereotypical?” she asked, and then she held up her finger as if she’d gotten a realization. “Ooh, wait— was it a rejected confession?” She laughed. “Oh, you do seem like the pitiful type to have one of those.”

She smiled down at Ophelia, eyes pressing. “Do tell, do tell,” she said. “I’m all ears.”

mood
hmm? < 3

location
the lockers < 3

outfit
yes, i'm a rich bitch. yes, i wear sweatshirts sometimes. yes, we exist. < 3

playing...
(you're the) devil in disguise

by elvis presley​

mentions
n/a < 3

interactions
ophelia < 3

tags
Soap < 3

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

KATEE NAUSBAUM

the snitch

Nut followed behind Xan, a deeply confused look on his face as he listened to his friend talk. “I’m funny?” he repeated, blinking, but a smile spread across his face. He was being serious, but he’d never really gotten called funny before— or really any admirable trait.

But then, Xan said, “Nah, Nut my guy, we’re skipping class!”

And Nut froze in his spot for a second.

Xander kept talking, and he kept walking, and Nut stared at his back for a solid half of a minute.

What? Skip?

Like…not go to class?

Like…like miss the assignments?

Like…get counted absent?

Nut has an unsoiled record. He always got the little “Perfect Attendance” certificates. He kept them under his mattress, and there was a lump where they were. It was kinda uncomfortable, but he knew that his mom and dad would throw them away if he kept them anywhere else. Plus, it was like a little built-in pillow.

No, Nut had never skipped— and he had never even considered it. Nut was not a delinquent— and he didn’t think Xan was either.

He broke out into a run to catch up when he realized that he had been standing still for too long and Xan was almost out of sight. When he caught up, he put a hand on Xan’s shoulder.

“Xan…Xan Man…Xanny Manny…Handy Manny…heh, Handy Manny,” Nut said, trying to collect his thoughts as he slowly said a wide variety of nicknames. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked. “You— we’re not— skipping? Whaaat? We are not skipping!”

Nut sped his pace up a bit more, and he turned around so that he was walking backwards in front of Xan. “Ambridge detention was a scary place. I, uh, never got put in it, but I heard that it was scary. They wouldn’t let you talk or anything— and they made you sit still and shut up and— oh no no no. It’s the same thing here, I bet— that’s the place where the, uh…where the bad kids go. I’m not a bad kid, X—“

Nut’s desperate, panicky words were cut short by him tripping over a crack in the sidewalk and stumbling backwards, finally falling onto his butt.

“Ghaashit!” he hissed as he scraped his wrists trying to break his fall, and then he sat there for a solid second.

He looked up at Xan. “We can’t skip,” he repeated. “We…can’t.”

mood
nonono

location
the front of the school

outfit
something

playing...
monster (under my bed)

by call me karizma​

mentions
n/a

interactions
xander

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Aristocrat by New Politics

Natalie

New York.

Well, that explained the snobbish attitude.

Ballet school.

That explained the "better than thou" attitude.

There was every chance that Natalie wasn't giving the other girl really much of a chance to make an impression. Natalie had formed an opinion on her before she had even fully opened her mouth, and now everything that Prim said was being filed away as various... explanations to support the cruel image that Natalie had concocted. Well, not even cruel image the way that she saw it -- it was more of an...

An accurate image.

"Lovely," she commented absent mindedly as they walked along. "Well, I don't really know what other clubs you could bother concerning yourself with. To be honest, most of the clubs and sports have become so flooded with Ambridge students that it's just..." she shook her head in disappointment. "The quality of the teaching has really gone downhill since they arrived. Honestly, I don't know why they'd allow savages that burned their school down to be here."

Her steps started to slow as they approached the classroom that was first on their tour, and her upper lip curled back in a faint look of disgust. Of course, it was just her luck that one of those freaking Bridgers would be blocking her way.

And not just any Bridger, but her sister.

Step sister.

Not even step sister.

The daughter of the whore that was sleeping with Natlie's dad for his money.

"Speaking of Ambridgers," she said, her voice losing it's melodic calmness from before as they approached. "Jade." She started, her voice stone cold and jilted as she spoke. "Kind of blocking our way. Don't you have another school to help burn down or...?"

| mentions: N/A | interactions: Primrose, Jade| tags: Stardust Galaxy jasmyn |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Angel with a Shotgun

Rory

Her friendship with Kelia was something that... really, really defied the odds. She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips as Kelia talked about the extra credit. Rory loved her best friend -- she really did -- but she could be really uptight. Hence why their friendship kind of defied the odds and shit. Because while Kelia was focused on school and preferred staying home, Rory wasn't sure the last time she'd actually passed a test and she was basically never home.

Well... more now that they had a decent foster home, but still. The point stood.

Kelia mentioned her mom making her go, and it all clicked together in Rory's head. Ah yes. Of course. She should've fucking expected that -- it would be her mother that had forced her to go, and not Kelia of her own free will. Fuck, she had to respect Kelia's mom, though. Rory couldn't even manage to get her out of the goddamn house. That woman had skill... or, well, the right incentive. There was probably nothing in this world that Kelia loved more than her bucks. Fuck, the girl would probably throw herself in front of a bus to protect her collection.

"Enough about me. You didn't get up to any rubbish at the bonfire did you?"

Rory let out a groan followed by a roll of her eyes. "No, luckily -- and before you say anything, I know that sounds wrong coming from my mouth," she shot Kelia an annoyed look, although the annoyance was clearly not directed at her friend. Rather, it was directed at the memory of Saturday night and how it had been ruined beyond belief. "Ian's been hanging around Jade fucking Jennings. Like I don't have an issue with Jade necessarily, but she's not good. She's going to get him arrested or he's going to come home with one fucking arm or some shit. Dude, you know how dumb he is."

She let out a frustrated sigh with a shake of her head. "I hung with them and Lance to keep an eye on Ian. He can't even open his own beer bottle, Kelia. And they want to let him play with fire and shit. I know they think I'm fucking boring now, but I just..." Rory shook her head helplessly once again. "I just don't want him getting hurt or some shit, you know? Like I'd be down for all that shit, but I don't want Ian doing it."

Yeah, Rory was like that. The kind of person who would go out and do something extremely stupid, insisting that she would be fine, and then balk if someone that she cared about attempted to do the same thing -- and by people she cared about, she pretty much solely meant Ian. He was... well, when you'd lost your whole family and never had a stable place to grow up, it was easy to get overly attached to the one constant in your life.

Jade could be as pissed off as she wanted to be at Rory. As long as Ian still showed up at home every night with all of his limbs intact? She was fucking pleased.

"I just don't know what to do," she admitted. "I can't keep an eye on him all the time and he's just... he won't fucking leave her alone."

| mentions: Jade, Lance, Ian | interactions: Kelia | tags: Xed |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

fluent in buzzkill

Theodore Virtanen

Ambridge

"It's easier to act yourself into a new way of thinking than it is to think yourself into a new way of acting."
- Millard Fuller

Maybe it was Theo's English, maybe it was his lack of focus, or perhaps his abysmal sleep schedule, but it took him six tries to read that quote before it fully made sense. He'd been acting completely out of character the past few weeks. Between garnering the animosity of all of Ambridge, the sliver of curiosity he'd shown for Donna, and the whole Silas debacle, it felt like he'd aged seven years. Never in Theo's life had he expected to have tried coke the same week he ditched school commitments to do the deed on school grounds. Worse, even his strictest morals could do nothing to reverse the taste for risk and spontaneity he'd accrued.

It might not have seemed like much to the average Bridger, but Theodore felt as though he'd been transformed into a fledgling of a bad boy. He unquestionably disliked the notion, but that wasn't to say it wasn't without its pros. The blonde boy was practically the same person, but things felt... different. Like doors had been opened. Granted they were doors he'd never have dreamed of opening like potentially skipping a homework assignment, but it was a big enough deal that the thought crossed his mind alone. Even in preparing breakfast for his little cousins, there was a nagging sense that none of his responsibilities really mattered in the end. He was just a kid, not Cinderella, and not a future Senate representative.

He could do, like, whatever.

Not that he did, of course. He'd shown up to figure skate with Angeline on time, performed at their usual level, and parted ways with his partner. Enduring the girl's criticisms came naturally to Theo, who not only listened intently, but internalized everything for the sake of improvement. He'd offered his own constructive criticism, but it was all advice the flawless ice queen Angeline had likely observed on her own. They were a cutthroat, strictly business pair, and that was just how he liked it.

For their mutual benefit, Theo shoved all budding thoughts of teenage rebellion into the back of his head. A diminished level of focus would do nothing but guarantee a crushing defeat at the next competition. If it was one thing that Theodore and Angeline didn't do, it was lose. Nothing could jeopardize their success, and that included Theo's prolonged rumination over guys and drugs. Ice skating is undoubtedly an art form consisting of both physical exertion and emotional performance, yet Theo always made a point to flaunt his technical prowess. If he lost even a fraction of that... all of his training would have been for naught. Wasting time was another thing the figure skater absolutely loathed.

Running on a clock far above schedule, Theo arrived to school far earlier than necessary. It had been an easy morning, with the kids at home being slightly less difficult than usual. His aunt and uncle came through with a benevolent dismissal, leaving cleaning and breakfast to someone other than the sixteen-year-old nephew they housed and sometimes fed.

Theo made efficient use of this time, speedreading next month's novel for English on the bus. He sympathized with the protagonist in a way, regretfully lamenting the routine of mundane study and diligence he'd fallen into. The only excitement in his life came in gigantic, unwelcome surprises, but at least it was something. Perhaps an angsty, existential trip to New York would have relieved him of his mini-crisis lest the aftereffects of teenage stupidity rot his brain for eternity.

The bus came to a screeching halt, which was a dubious detail to Theo given how sleek and well-maintained he assumed the entirety of Auburn Springs to be. The bus did run through Ambridge, though, and somehow that was enough of an explanation for him. Anything that touched that run-down town degraded in quality. It was no wonder why the Springers felt so threatened by the arrival of the Ambridge kids scurrying along the halls like muddy-footed rats.

At least, that was the way Theo figured they saw it. He could understand to an extent the way they felt. He'd gone to private school back in Finland; he wasn't sure whether it was all of America or just this microcosm of a divided nation in Vermont, but Europe felt... brighter. Like the air was fresher, cleaner, more natural. Then again, Finland has been known for its decent air quality for quite some time.

Beyond that, though, the transition into Ambridge had the same impact as slipping on dirty lenses, a moody, dusty blanket coating his vision all the way to the horizon. It was filthy, pitiful, and encapsulated in a permanent dusk of gloom and doom. Auburn Springs may have been richer and greener, but Theo could see past it only because he'd known in advance the crooked, foggy lenses that came with the opposing towns. Auburn Springs was brighter, but a sickly kind of bright. Like a post-apocalyptic neon accented with a harsh set of LED lights, the foliage so vibrant it appeared artificial. There was nothing natural about either town, and upon that realization Theodore knew just why all of his peers were perpetually miserable.

There's nothing glamorous about being on the stern of a sinking ship when the people in the bilge are suffering the same exact fate.

Theo, sporting an expression so neutral it appeared forced, stepped off the bus and ambled into the school. Perhaps it was the cold, but he felt so numb that he hadn't realized how slow and heavy his trudging footsteps were. It made no sense to saunter with such an aimless impassiveness when Theo most definitely had a location he was heading toward: the cafeteria. He was on his way with his three-ton zombie steps, cruising on autopilot so thoughtlessly that it took a half-minute to recognize his feet had already dragged him there.

The contemplative (yet somehow empty-minded?) boy grabbed his breakfast, surprising even himself when he'd already found himself out of line, tray in hand. Life seemed to be skipping frames, but in the most predictable way possible. He could have blinked and regained consciousness in a week and still have been able to continue on like nothing. He was partially aware of the fact that it was supposed to feel wrong, but Theo somehow failed to find an explainable problem, as though he was pulling his despondency out of thin air for the hell of it.

Finally, he made it to the very back of the cafeteria to the table he claimed daily, with the goal of resuming and finishing his angsty, verbose novel. Peculiarly, it was already occupied. This never happened. Not enough people showed this early and had the mind to take a seat so far from the desirable middle of the cafeteria. The chilly ventilation was in the back, but that seemed to make sense for the intruder seated mere feet away from an awkwardly staring Theo.

The boy who he eventually recognized as DC—Donna?—was seated in his spot, taking a drag off of a vape pen. That seemed to do the trick for Theodore's autopilot stupor, waking him enough out of his robotic routine to elicit a slight widening of the eyes. It was easy to miss, but it was more emotion than the blonde junior had shown in the past day and a half, give or take. "You are in my spot," he stated plainly, accent thick and choppy as ever.

He stood still for a few moments longer, merely eyeing the boy with whom he had a knack for running into as of recent. "Why here?" he queried, seating himself without invitation. Donna's dead gaze did nothing to shake his resolve, and Theo began to wonder how normal people could be so intimidated by such a deceptively carefree glance. That wasn't to say he was fundamentally "free", but at the very least he didn't seem to retain much care for anything more than a foot away from him. Much like himself, Donna didn't appear to be in any sort of mood other than a lack thereof.

"Smoking at school puts you at great risk, you know," he added, scrutinizing the details of the odd, electronic contraption before the boy across from him tucked it away, "You could sabotage your health as well." He cocked his head to the side, ever so slightly. "Why you do it?"

| mood: braaaains | outfit: clothes | location: school | mentions: Angeline| interactions: DC | tags: ditto |

 

[ditto]

DONNA CAIN CAMUS

the disappointment

Nicotine.

From kindergarten through fifth grade, Donna Cain Camus was a member of Raptors Resist!. The name was very cheesy and frankly embarrassing; whoever came up with it should’ve been ashamed of themselves. Regardless of the name, they were Auburn Springs’ morally elite force, advocating for “no drugs!” and “no alcohol!” and “no tobacco!” and “no nicotine!”.

By “morally elite force”, it was meant that they were the rich, stuck up children who no one wanted to be friends with, so they opted to spend their lunch times pretending to be friends with a forty-something who was praying for the final bell and act as though they were so much better than the others because they got plastic badges with cheesy slogans printed on them.

DC Camus had been the leader of the club. The leader didn’t want to refer to the role as “president” so that others wouldn’t get their feelings hurt— though they were all anemic, pathetic children, so there wasn’t much fighting that could occur that was anything beyond petty slap fights— so they instead opted to call him “team captain”. Donna wore that title with pride: Team Captain Camus of Raptors Resist!, stopping substance abuse with camaraderie and a warm smile— or…an awkwardly tight smile, because he smiled like he was being forced to.

His father had expressed his disappointment and said that the club was merely a distraction; Donna realized that his father was right now.

Raptors Resist! would attend conferences to learn about the effects of those mystical substances called drugs, which caused harm to you, your family, and your friends. They spoke of them like you would monsters beneath your bed, and they gave pamphlets with big letters warning death, destruction, cancer, and a wide variety of other terrible things that they acted like would come upon you if you so much as touched anything of the sort.

All those years, he had played moral high ground, spouted the rhetoric of those speakers and those books and vomited it back up without even knowing what he was saying…

And now, he was here, filling his lungs with vape smoke and his bloodstream with nicotine for a small dash of serotonin, riding the high of powder that he’d need to ingest again soon if he didn’t want to crash.

It was all so disgustingly ironic.

Yet his father and his brother and his mother and his peers wondered why the hell he was so cynical.

“You are in my spot.“

Donna’s eyes darted up at the sudden noise, and he lifted his head slowly from his bag.

Before him stood a somewhat familiar, blonde boy. He looked slightly surprised, as though something about Donna had surprised him.

“Your…spot…?” Donna asked slowly in his nasal monotone. He looked away from the boy, leaning his back against the plastic back of the chair, and he let out a soft sigh. “Is it…?” he asked disinterestedly.

Donna felt the boy’s eyes on him, and he lifted his eyes to him to study him, the cold, sour, unamused resting expression on his face.

“Why here?” the other boy asked finally, sitting down at another seat at the table, and Donna stared at him for a moment, studying him before speaking.

“You offered to be my therapist, didn’t you,” Donna stated. He had meant it as a question, but it truly wasn’t. “Theodore…or something along those lines,” he added, as if to check that the name was correct, though he’d had two introductions from the boy already and had such odd interactions with him that he couldn’t really forget his name or face. “I don’t recall the last name.”

His posture was somehow rigid as he brought his knees further in. “I’m here…,” he started, finally answering Theo’s question, and then he paused, his eyes studying Theo with a gaze with a look in it that was somewhere between a disinterested stare and a glare. “Because,” he said finally. He looked back at his backpack, eyes studying the form of the letters of the Algebra II textbook’s title but not reading the letters. “I never come to breakfast,” he continued. “Or school. This looked like a quiet and solitary enough place to…”

Vape and judge people silently.

“…sit,” he concluded.

Donna looked down at his vape pen, studying the green light. He rubbed his thumb over the light, covering it then uncovering it then covering it again. It was mildly bemusing.

“Probably the same reason anyone would sit back here. Not because of convenience.” He looked up, and he set his cold, hollow eyes on Theo again. “But because no one would bother you.”

He paused a long moment, certain that would be the end of the conversation.

"Smoking at school puts you at great risk, you know," Theo said, and Donna sighed softly, eyes still focused on Theo as he turned it off and dropped it into his backpack. "You could sabotage your health as well." He cocked his head slightly. "Why you do it?”

“Risk…,” Donna began repeating, but he trailed off as the words processed in his head. A smile broke across his face abruptly, and he let out a singular chuckle before it faded.

He looked at Theo again, and he cocked his head.

What in the hell…?

“You ask a lot of questions,” Donna said bluntly. “It’s annoying.”

Donna paused a moment, hand finding the zipper of his backpack to rub it idly. He said nothing for a few beats, and then he let out a soft sigh. “What are you asking?” he asked. “Why do I vape? Are you asking for me to allow you to be my therapist again?”

It seemed that Donna had learned something new: let a guy find out that you’re gay, and they expect you to divulge all of your inner machinations. He would note that for future reference.

“Health isn’t my concern,” he continued. “Nothing is really my concern.”

Still, Theo was somehow— oddly— a boy who he found himself not opposed to speaking to, whether it be because he was so off-kilter that it startled Donna in some capacity and he had to talk or because Theo…it was probably the former, actually, because Donna hadn’t thought of another option.

“It gives me a relief,” he answered finally.

He would leave it at that.

Donna looked up to meet Theo’s eyes with a hollow gaze, and a smile flashed across his face for a moment. “You talk like someone who’s never smoked before,” Donna said, “yet you were…dating...?” Was that the right word? “….with…,” he concluded, “that one guy, in some capacity. You’re not innocent; don’t feign it.” The last hint of amusement dropped from his face. “That doesn’t seem to suit you all that well.”

RIIIIING!

Donna’s eyes flinched as the bell overhead rang, and his eyes flickered over to the movement of the students at the surrounding tables standing and making their ways to the trash cans and the doors.

Watching them, Donna felt drained of any motivation to go to class. “Heh…damn…,” he muttered, “and just when I got to school early…got around…” He sighed softly. “Hm.”

He looked over at Theo, standing and sliding on his backpack. “Are you going to go?” Donna asked.

The way he asked made it seem as though he was offering another option— and, in a way, he was.

Donna was not a fan of other people…but Theo was interesting.

He slid on the other strap of his backpack. “If you’ve got more questions, you can ask…though I don’t like to talk much, and you probably won’t get answers,” he said in his stoic monotone. His eyes moved to Theo’s to hold his gaze for a moment. “Or you could drop that innocent act…” He reached into his pocket, and he pulled his pocket down just enough to flash a lighter and the top of a ziplock bag. “…and there’d be more that we could do.”

His eyes were cold and read go away, to an extent. His words showed no interest or no want for him to come along.

Yet he turned around and walked past him to the doors at the back of the cafeteria in such a manner that it seemed as though he was expecting him to follow.

mood
high & ...?

location
the cafeteria

outfit
sweatshirt & sweatpants

playing...
fuck up

by gabriel black​

mentions
n/a

interactions
theo

tags
hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

I suck at songs so no song

Kelia

"No, luckily --" Kelia cocked an eyebrow at Rory and tilted her head to the side.

"and before you say anything," Rory interjected, "I know that sounds wrong coming from my mouth," she shot her a look of annoyance that Kelia was familiar with. If the older Hansen wasn't getting into trouble, it was usually because the younger Hansen was trying to.

"Ian's been hanging around Jade fucking Jennings. Like I don't have an issue with Jade necessarily, but she's not good. She's going to get him arrested or he's going to come home with one fucking arm or some shit. Dude, you know how dumb he is."

Bingo. So it was Ian after all. She completely agreed with Rory there. If anything, getting arrested or losing an arm seemed to be things Ian would actually have written down on his bucket list. Yes, she was well aware of just how dumb the boy could be. Having known Rory as long as she had, she was well acquainted with her best friend's younger brother and his...antics. It was unfortunate that the boy paraded about school behaving in inexplicably stupid ways and acting oh so proud of them like that behavior of his was making him cool or something. Having influences like Jade Jennings of all people around certainly wasn't going to help keep him out of the trouble he seemed so determined to get into.

Rory let out a frustrated sigh with a shake of her head. "I hung with them and Lance to keep an eye on Ian. He can't even open his own beer bottle, Kelia. And they want to let him play with fire and shit. I know they think I'm fucking boring now, but I just..." Rory shook her head helplessly once again. "I just don't want him getting hurt or some shit, you know? Like I'd be down for all that shit, but I don't want Ian doing it."

Kelia pressed her lips together and folded her arms as she listened to her friend continue. If Rory being boring meant she was not getting into trouble, she'd take it, and the fact that Ian couldn't open his own beer bottle, well that was both sad and good news. Good news obviously because it meant that he wouldn't be able to get any alcohol in his system on his own, and he definitely didn't need alcohol in his system. And of course there would be no problem if Rory was the one getting into trouble. If Kelia had a coin for every time Rory had gotten into some sort of mess, she would have made a nice, tidy sum by now. Things didn't work that way of course and she definitely didn't agree with Rory on that last point. Though if she had to choose and one of the Hansen siblings had to get into trouble, she'd rather it be Rory than Ian. Not only did her friend have the devil's luck, but she also had more brains and survival skills than her brother, which was not saying much if you asked her because looking for trouble as a source of fun or whatever was just pure idiocy in her book. Of course she didn't have to choose between just the two since there was the third perfectly viable option of keeping them both out of trouble, as painful and difficult as that had proven to be at times over the years.

It was a funny sort of thing though. She tried to keep Rory from behaving stupidly as her friend did the same for her brother. Of course in Kelia's case, she also had to keep one eye on Dani and Ryan. Thankfully the two basically came in a set and so when you found one, the other was usually not far behind or ahead.

"I just don't know what to do, I can't keep an eye on him all the time and he's just... he won't fucking leave her alone."

Rory definitely wasn't going to like what she had to say next, but that had never stopped her from saying what she thought before. "That, is exactly how I feel about you and your relationship with trouble." She told Rory flatly as she crossed the hallway to her locker.

"And you are right, unless you plan to put him on a leash you can't keep track of his every movement which frankly I was tempted to do to you once or twice." And no Kelia wasn't joking. She was perfectly serious and she would have done it, if of course it were actually a viable plan, which it sadly wasn't. She opened her locker and started pulling out the books she needed as she continued.

"I would tell you to let him get into trouble once and feel the consequences but that hasn't worked with you so I doubt it would work with him either. Actually..." Kelia slowed, hands pausing as a thought formed in her mind. "this isn't a bad arrangement." A seemingly illogical line of thinking at first but yes, this wasn't a bad idea at all. She moved to retrieve the last of her books as she continued.

"He keeps looking for trouble with Jade, you keep an eye on him so he doesn't get into any, consequently you can't go looking for trouble either and so both stay out of trouble. Brilliant." She shut the locker door as she turned to look at Rory. "I think he should continue being friends with Jade."

Yes she was dead serious about that too.

Normally she wouldn't advocate such a friendship because the last thing someone young and recklessly stupid like Ian needed was to be around someone like Jade who would just enable him and his trouble seeking ways, but in this case there did seem to be some genuine benefit to the friendship and she knew Rory was more than capable of keeping her younger brother in line when she wanted to.

Of course there were some downsides to the idea like the fact that Rory wouldn't have time for other things she should concern herself with like studying, but it wasn't like Rory was going to use any free time she had on such productive activities anyway. Besides, it was senior year for both of them so more trouble was really the last thing Rory should be getting into, and putting aside the fact that she didn't have as much time to look after her friends and keep them out of trouble with college exams to prep for and scholarships to win, Kelia genuinely didn't want to see them getting hurt.

That was actually what bothered her more than the hassle that was looking after them when they landed in a mess. You didn't stick around someone like Rory as long as Kelia had when you despised trouble as much as she did, if you didn't care. Regardless of what others might think or how it appeared, she did care for her friends only had their best interests at heart, not just her own.

| mood: don't remind me | outfit: school day | location: school | mentions: Ian, Jade | interactions: Rory | tags: Winona |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

For sure the bonfire was the topic of conversation of that morning, the rumors spreading of who make out with who and who fight with who was spreading like a wildfire, and the not so subtle murmurs could be heard all over the hallway it was almost as if Adrian attended it even if he didn't set a foot near the place, it wasn't like he totally regretted not attending a bonfire part of him thought that he just missed an opportunity the last chances he could have with his friends before college and it wasn't like they did one every weekend.

But at the same time, he knew that mixing up Springers and Bridgers with alcohol on their system was just a recipe for disaster and the last thing he wanted to do was to get in the middle of two drunk people fighting while he was the only one that tried to stop the fight. Because he was more into solving problems by talking rather than fighting, something none of his peers from Ambridge and his new classmates from Auburn Springs considered it, but who was he to stop them? After all, he received money from the Springers so it wasn't like he could hate them, they were just helping to his fund towards university.

So, instead of filling his body with alcohol, he decided to fill it with the grease of a slice of pizza or multiple slices of pizza, he managed to convince Emmet to hang out with him although he wasn't sure if he only agreed because they were eating or because in fact, he wanted to spend quality time with him, well hanging out with Emmet it was something for sure, Adrian was either making sure on trying to stop him to do something stupid or he was trying to persuade the boy to hang out with him, so he wouldn't get in trouble.

But what was supposed to be just a normal weekend ended up with Adrian receiving a sermon on why smoking was bad and why he shouldn't do it by his parents and it was all thanks to Emmett if he hadn't forgotten his cigarettes in the car of Adrian, who happened to be the family car, then he shouldn't be in this kind of trouble, and it wasn't like Adrian smoke, did he try it? Yes, once when he felt he wanted to be edgy and he used to told his mom that it wasn't a phase it was his real self, but after trying it and feeling like he was going to pass out because he couldn't breathe he realized that being edgy wasn't meant for him.

As he made his way through the hallway it didn't take him long to spot the cause of all this problem "Just the person that I was looking for, you know the next time, be more careful where you leave your cigarettes not like I'm the biggest supporter of your little habit. But at least don't leave them in the same car that my mom uses to go grocery shopping, she was ready to disown me because of it, you don't have any idea how long it took to convince her they weren't mine, so you own me one for dealing for all of this" he said as he gave back the cigarettes.

Location: hallway | Mood: relaxed
Outift: Here | Interactions: Emmett ( Winona )

Adrian Carter Brown

Code by Stardust Galaxy​

 

[jasmyn]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  worried >> fucking annoyed
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  some flannel shit

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  school parking lot
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  chelsea ( ditto )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

danielle monroe

ambridge ~ 17 ~ junior

There were a good amount of people in Dani's life who she considered to be close friends. These were people she would jump to defend in a fight, who she would be there for no questions ask, people who she actually cared about. Making a lot of friends had always been like a sort of defense mechanism for Dani. Have a lot of people in your corner so you'll never have to be alone...right? But right about now? She felt pretty damn alone and she hated that feeling more than anything.

While yes, Dani had a lot of friends, not all of them were people she trusted with her life. People who she truly felt lost without. Those spots were reserved for few and at the top of that list of people, there was Sly. (Right next to Ryan Murphy, naturally.) Sly and Dani had been friends for a long time but in middle school they really became close. He was one of her best friends and when her dad died, when she pushed everyone else away...he was there. He didn't let her push him away and well, things escalated. Quickly.

Looking back there were a lot of things Dani could've done differently, people who she could've let in or not hurt and she wished she could change those things but despite that, she didn't regret Sly. In the year since their friendship had become more, she had fallen in love with him.

Sure, she had never said out loud that she was "in love" because it wasn't their style but he knew how she felt about him and vice versa. It didn't need to be said or understood by anyone else because no one else's opinion of it mattered. Sly was the only person besides Ryan that Dani would do anything for. Absolutely anything. Hence why she had gone along with his plan the night of that party. Something she was now second-guessing and she never did that when it came to him.

It wasn't that she regretted standing by him because she would do that again a million times over. But everything in Dani had screamed for her to make Sly drop him off at a hospital or to just simply leave or do anything else rather than what they did. She had seen the panic in his eyes and she just couldn't think straight to make a rational choice.

While CK had seemed like he was gonna keep his mouth shut and his kid sister didn't strike her as the revenge type, the frat boy wannabe still had money and status. If he really wanted to, she was almost certain that he could get away with retaliation. Not that she thought he had the guts to but it was still a possibility and that was enough to worry her especially given the fact that he was suddenly MIA.

Yeah, Sly was practically missing. It'd been nine days since Dani had last seen or heard from him. Every day she'd been calling every single jail and hospital within a twenty-mile radius of Ambridge to no avail. To make matters worse, she'd gone by Big Johnny's place again to see if he had heard from Sly only for him to have no answers. He didn't even seem the slightest bit interested in finding out if the kid who had practically been a son to him was okay and she didn't understand why.

As a matter of fact, the only person who was concerned seemed to be her. Daily life, school, it all just went on as normal while for her it felt like she was just losing her footing slowly but surely. Like the possibility of him being okay was slipping away no matter how much she tried to tell herself that he was because if he was then where the hell was he and why hadn't he at least called?

Despite all of this, life didn't stop and she was forced to spend another day at this stupid school, wasting her time. But what else could she do? Right? So, here she fucking was parking her motorcycle and getting ready to walk inside to pretend everything was fine. But before she could even remove her helmet though, a voice caught her attention and she turned her head rather quickly to find the source.

“Hey. You’re in my parking spot.”

Just her fucking luck. Chelsea Freud himself.

Dani reached up, pulling the helmet from her head and securing it onto her bike before running a hand through her hair to fix in. Her eyes rolled at his declaration. Was he actually serious? "I don't see your name on it? Maybe if you get here a little earlier next time," she shrugged. "Unless this is your way of telling me you want it back now, in which case...no," she spat out, her eyes remaining locked on him.

"I'd assume that with your privilege you don't hear that word often but then again I'd be willing to bet girls say it to you all the time so you must be familiar. Right?"

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[ditto]

CHELSEA KADER FREUD

the fucking king

As soon as the bitch on the bike took off her helmet, Chelsea felt the blood in his veins run cold.

He knew her.

When she spoke, he stared at her, eyes glaring and cold.

He fucking knew her.

It was that bitch— that bitch.

The one with the bat.

The one who stood by— stood fucking idly by while his sister’s life was threatened.

While he was tied to a damn chair, while he was bleeding and damn near fucking dying.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t see your name on it? Maybe if you get here a little earlier next time.” She spoke breezily— casually— and she gave a shrug.

Fucking cocky bitch.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you want it back now, in which case…no.”

The bitch locked her eyes on him.

He felt bile rise in his throat.

“I’d assume that with your privilege, you don’t hear that word often, but then again, I’d be willing to bet girls say it to you all the time, so you must be familiar,” she said, as if she knew jack shit about him, as if she had any right to speak to him after everything that she had fucking been a part of, after all that shit that she had done. “Right?”

Chelsea’d had a couple of weeks to ruminate on the shit that happened.

His nose was nearly healed, and his rib didn’t smart as much. His bruises were gone, and most of the scabs had entirely closed over.

Saturday, he’d confessed to Dex, as if he were his clergyman, said that he was defeated, said that he was a king in check, said that there was nothing that he could do.

Today was Monday, and he was still here; it couldn’t’ve been checkmate.

It was one thing to talk about it, one thing to think of them as some formidable force that could destroy him.

But here, he just felt…nothing much.

She was small. She was no match for him. Her disgusting rat of a boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.

He felt no fear, nothing of the sort.

Nothing but anger— and nausea.

It was odd, after all of the fuss, that he felt fucking nothing except for rage burning in his chest.

His face remained calm, cold, and collected.

“Ha. Clever,” Chelsea said in his low voice, face utterly unamused. His lip slowly curled up in disgust as he gave her a once-over. “You obviously don’t know shit about respect, though that doesn’t surprise me, given…” He hung onto the words, but he trailed off, letting out a soft scoff.

He walked closer to her, pulling his bag further up on his shoulder. When he spoke, his tone was as cold and unamused as ever. “You’re new at this school, and now that I’m seeing you again, I figured that I’d tell you…” His eyes latched onto hers, and he glared at her icily. “…learn some respect.” There, his voice had the edge of a threat, his words accented with a little “or else”.

He did have shit to hold over her head, and his anger revealed that to him and made it slip out before he could really catch himself.

“You’ve made it…three weeks? Two weeks?” he continued. “I don’t remember how long it’s been since you all burned down your school and decided to scurry here like plague-infested rats, and to be frank, I couldn’t care less. I’ll congratulate it on making it this far, but here’s a piece of advice, Monroe…”

He stared down at her for a moment, and then he looked away disinterestedly. “Where you’re from, you might be used to being able to kick the little shits down, walk around like you own the place…” He looked into her face again. “But not fucking here.” He pulled his bag tighter casually. “Bridgers might fight, but Springers? We do it cleaner, better, and without dirtying our hands. Don’t test your luck—“ He stopped himself with a soft puff of air, and he glared down at her. “— further than you have already.”

He started to make his way away from her. “And don’t test my patience,” he said cooly. “I’m a Freud, if you haven’t heard. What you’ve seen of me is nothing.”

He took another few steps, his back turned to her as he continued to speak. “I don’t have time to waste arguing with a brick wall or with someone as intelligent as one, nor do I have time to be conversing with a Bridger over a parking spot at my school,” he stated. “Now, I’ll say that I’ve said my piece and bid you adieu. I hope that we never meet again. If we do, for your sake, I hope you at least have enough sense to address me with respect. The ‘dirty rebel’ act doesn’t fly at this school.”

After a few more steps, he stopped, and he turned around to glance into her face. “Oh,” he said, as if he only now remembered something, “and get a damn parking tag next time, like all of us. I’m have surprising control over my anger; however, there are plenty here who do not, and I wouldn’t want to venture into their…territories.” He turned back around, and he gave a soft chuckle, though his face remained stoic. “A kind word of advice from your resident pretentious asshole.”

His last words were seething.

With that, he began to walk away, and he made his way into the school, pushing through the front doors, keeping his head and eyes high as he walked to his locker.

As he walked, the rage built in his chest.

Goddamn it, goddamn it, goddamn it.

Who did that bitch think that she fucking was? Who the fuck did she think that she was?

He slammed his fist into the locker beside his, which already had a sizable dent thanks to the last few times that he’d done the same thing. He opened his locker with jerky motions and began to rifle through, though what he was looking for was lost in the alleviation of rage that slamming things around in his excruciatingly-organized locker granted him.

mood
...

location
the school

outfit
something preppy

playing...
gives you hell

by the all-american rejects​

mentions
dex

interactions
dani

tags
jasmyn

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

mood: ready to blaze
outfit: shirt and pants
location: school
mentions: dani, murph, lola
interactions: drake
tags: jasmyn @geminiy

Lincoln Bello

❯ 1 the fence™

Two days.

It had been two days since the bonfire. Two days since he hung out with Dani and Murph. It had been a while. Murph was in jail. Dumped him. Life went on right? He had missed Dani. If he was honest, he’d missed both of them. Before it got all complicated. Before he and Murph thought it would be a good idea to cross lines.

The evening was shitty. Spent with some Springer bitch that had no business with them. Murph’s latest conquest. As if he didn’t even exist. Avoided eye contact. Small talk with barely answers. A few nods. That was their evening. Well, other than the sex.

Yes. He and Murph hooked up. It wasn’t planned and kind of a blur. How they ended up at their spot on the quarry was beyond him. But there they were. Surprisingly, Murph made the first move. What was he supposed to do? Say no? It’d been way too long since he’d had sex with anyone other than himself. And as much as he hated Murph for what he did. For ditching him. For abandoning him. He also didn’t hate Murph at all. It was good. Amazing. They always were amazing. But of course...in true Murph fashion…’it was the last time.’ So Murph got off. Link got his heart broken...again...if he cared. Which he told himself vehemently that he didn’t. Over and over and over again.

He took a deep breath as he opened his locker. The bright and shiny new football jersey wadded up gave him a nauseous feeling. Oh yeah. He’s on the football team now. No one was more shocked than he was. Maybe Dani...but he couldn’t tell cause she wouldn’t stop laughing. Bitch. That was the LAST time he accepted a bet from her. She was ruthless. His best friend, but utterly wicked in every way. He just needed to try out. Just supposed to be an embarrassing event she could torment him with.

But he was good. Really good. Despite his lack of interest in sports and his extreme lack of any kind of team spirit. He was on the team. His father insisted on it. More like thought it would look better for his reputation and since he was campaigning...image was extra important. And since he and Lola had nowhere else to go. He had to follow suit. For now.

He shut his locker and squeezed into the crowd and collided with another student. “It’s cool.” He dismissed it before he realized it was Drake. Guess it could have been one of those Springer douchebags. Maybe it would have been better. Link could have started shit. That’d get him kicked off the team for sure.

“Wanna come with me?”

Link’s eyed the joint. Well...it was better than running into Dani or Murph. “Fuck yeah.” He nodded and followed after Drake. Alcohol was usually his drug of choice but weed did the trick and it was easier to function high than wasted. “I can’t get too fucked up. Got practice after school.” He rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he had heard but it was only a matter of time.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Conflicted, intrigued, something.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  Ravenish.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Music Room
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Kelia, Valerie. Xed jasmyn
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Raven Rivera

ambridge

The conversation was flowing, they were smiling, laughing— oddly enough, Raven believed they’d never get to this point again. But then again, she’s had far more worse arguments that ended up in a different place altogether. Raven was never a tough person to get along with, ever.

Even when she was hurt in a situation. She was just… wasn't that type of girl to hold a grudge. Ultimately, she was strong as she was stubborn.

Especially with the people she loved.

“Thoughts on the interviewer? Hate her still?” Raven’s words were meant as a tease, but as always, there was a truth that laid behind them.

All was said with a smile.

A smile that faded instantly when a hand was gently placed against her cheek.

“I don’t hate you.”

Her next sentence came in a whisper, and Raven was at a loss for words.

“I could never hate you,”

“I want you to know that.”

It was sweet that Kelia wanted Raven to know that.

But Raven wanted no part of it.

It complicated things. Everything— even. Yes, she came here to ‘extend’ an olive branch, try to make nice, the last thing she wanted is to be reassured that Kelia still felt the same way—

Not the same way, she doesn’t mean the same way. She means the same as before they broke up.

At first, Raven simply thought it was reassurance that they were okay despite everything, brushing off what she'd said. But actions spoke louder than words and before she knew it, Kelia’s lips were on hers and Raven found it all too easy to just pretend as if nothing changed all those months ago and melt into the kiss.

And so she did.

For a moment.

And it was just… It was a bad idea.

Raven broke the kiss, pulling away and cleaning the corners of her lips while avoiding eye-contact. It was more than just an ex situation.

“I…”

Like someone else, ‘with?’ Someone else? What could she say that remotely made sense?

What even was her relationship with Valerie?

“I have to go, I’m sorry.”

—

It was a mistake.

That’s what Kelia had said.

So, it’s what Raven decided to believe. No matter how easy or simple it felt like it'd be to go back into their relationship.

It was different now.

Clearly, Kelia believed that— but it wasn’t all about what she wanted.

It’s about what Raven did.

And right now, the only thing she wanted was to focus on the things that made her feel… well, good. That meant no stressing about the Dani situation, no exes, no grandmothers, bills— nothing but genuine pleasure.

She wasn’t hard to spot.

Valerie Flores stuck out like a sore thumb. Besides her minion, she was practically the face of the school. Everyone knew her, the girls wanted to be her, and the boys— well, Raven would rather not focus on that subject.

Raven allowed her gaze to roam over Valerie, who was clearly oblivious to the journalist being near as she wathrough her locker, and she took those few seconds to fully take her in, the way her hair fell onto her shoulders, tracing the crook of her neck with her gaze before it fell onto Valerie’s lips. Raven announced her presence by catching her gaze in the mirror that was conveniently placed in her locker.

Because of course, Valerie Flores would have a mirror in her locker. It was desperately in character of her to do so.

“You see, I’m not incredibly sure how we work.”

The brunette’s fingers subtly reached for Valerie’s wrist, tracing up towards her arm slowly. “Is this allowed?” She asked, deciding to test the boundaries between her and the princess. Raven was merely having her fun, and… it wasn’t like there many people around anyway— not that it mattered to Raven.

She watched carefully for her reaction in the tiny mirror before she continued. Raven’s voice fell to a whisper and her gaze suddenly became low-lidded.

“Is PDA a no-go too?”

The brunette sighed, withdrawing herself from the other girl and creating space.

Raven hardly gave her time to respond, already aware of her answer.

The girl was classy-- it wasn’t surprising. Believe it or not; PDA wasn’t Raven’s thing either, small forms of affection was okay, but full-blown make out sessions in front of the public eye wasn't something that sounded like fun, but Raven caters to her audience of course, so... if Valerie was interested in giving them a show, she would.

“Wow, so you mean we can’t make out against the lockers? Tsk, tsk, tsk. And here I was excited.” She teased, a smile playing on her lips and Raven allowed her eyes to do the talking for her.

Drifting her gaze towards the incredibly empty music room and back towards Valerie with a raise of an eyebrow.

—

As soon as the door shut, Valerie was pressed against it and Raven’s lips were already on hers, breaking it for a moment and in between kisses that led a trail down her neck, she spoke.

“So, care to tell me how to make it up to you?”

Yes, thanks to Raven’s luck, Valerie had caught the whole… mistake of a kiss between her and Kelia which led to Valerie avoiding Raven the whole night at the bonfire.

Probably would’ve been best if she decided to stay in that night-- point being here, Raven had told her she'd make it up to her.

Whether or not that meant they had clothes on while she did, was a different story.

The intercom went off, a voice Raven didn’t recognize as they went on to announce the sign ups for homecoming’s king and queen. She looked up towards the ceiling and listened to the announcement, the wheels in her head already turning.

“Is it another rule not to run together?” Raven wasn’t entirely serious, of course Valerie couldn’t be on board with something so early into their… situationship. Whatever it was between the two, it’d make sense for a girl like her to be all cautious about it.

But it didn’t hurt to ask, right?

“I’m just saying… we’d win by a landslide.”

Truth be told, Raven had never ran for homecoming queen. It just seemed… superficial. Especially back at Ambridge high, it wasn’t anything great-- and the girls that ran? Were not worth voting for. Let’s leave it at that.

But, well, she was a senior this year.

Maybe she wanted a story to tell in the future. At least just to say she actually did it. As… gross as it sounded, Raven did believe that you only lived life once. High school has many opportunities, 'memories' and all around, a good story to tell. Sadly enough, pretending to act like she genuinely cared about a plastic crown was one of them.

She just needed to convince her.

“We have personality...” Raven gently brushed Valerie’s hair behind her shoulder, allowing her fingers to linger on her neck, “Looks...” Her fingers made her way to her jawline, tracing with a nail, before tilting her head to keep eye contact.

Raven’s gaze fell to her lips and her voice fell into a hushed whisper.

“Mm. There’s the whole star-crossed lovers thing, too.”

The brunette leaned in, barely brushing their lips together before leaning away, deciding to tease her for a little while longer.

“Whattaya say, princess? Be my queen?”

♡coded by uxie♡