!ROUGH WATERS!

     “If I have to do anymore brown-nosing, I’d rather just skip the fucking theatrics and get down on all fours. I swear to god, that woman has an ego bigger than the list of guys she’s blown.” 

     Words against Chandler didn’t come naturally, but they had poured out in front of her childhood best friend as if they had been exchanging secrets at a slumber party back in grade school. Ridiculous. 

 @blow-up-the-school

     HEATHER KNEW CHEMISTRY BELONGED IN THE CHEM LAB BACK AT SCHOOL, BUT HEATHER ALSO KNEW ANY QUESTIONS BELONGED IN HER HEAD. 

     Hand leaving his briefly as she walked over to his desk, red nails running across the smooth surface, once covered with various wires and devices now decorated in negative space and unspoken inquiries that she wasn’t certain she would ever have the power to voice. She was standing at the TOP, so far up she could hardly see the place she USED to be... And she had been put there by HIM. He had manipulated the system, short circuited the hierarchy and completely rewritten the laws of Westerburg High. 

     She wondered sometimes why. 

     She wondered sometimes if there was something going on behind the scenes she couldn’t quite see.

      But she mostly wondered whether or not he really loved her. 

     Walking over to his bed, she perched herself at the edge, making herself comfortable. Had Veronica sat exactly like this on his bed? Had she been just as confused as she was? The very thought made her feel like she was absolutely GREEN with ENVY--

But she had grown out of that color. 

@shining-stxrs

ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A GIRL WHO BELIEVED IN HAPPY ENDINGS–

     THEN SHE HAD TAKEN A FUCKING SWAN DIVE INTO THE CONCRETE.

     A SNICKER left the brunette as quickly as any KINDNESS left the room, brown eyes narrowed as they made of show of glancing up and down the woman before her. Disgusting. Martha Dumptruck was absolutely disgusting in too many ways to count. Maybe it was her appearance, or maybe it was the simple fact that the childhood wonder had never left those big eyes of hers despite the harsh reality she faced everyday. It would have been better if she had just DIED. 

     “I think someone needs to teach you some manners, JD.”

@blow-up-the-school

     “How about YOU...” Tugging him down gently by his coat, she met his eyes, her own red painted lips tilted up in a playful grin. “Find a nicer way to ask a lady to undress?” She teased, lips pressing against his briefly before letting him go to begin unbuttoning her blouse obediently. 

      If anyone else had asked this of her, they would have been less than the dirt underneath Miss Flemming’s shoe by lunch time. She had watched Chandler mercilessly weird her power long enough to know how to use it, and she had been knocked down enough times to know how to sweep someone off their feet. Had anyone other than JD told her to undress, she would have made THEM the MYSTERY MEAT served in the cafeteria--

      But JD wasn’t anyone. He was special. 

     Heather Duke was certain she had been born to tear through the painting Heather Chandler had created to instead sketch out a NEW vision, one where she was on the very top-- All because of Jason Dean. 

      So of fucking course when he asked her to jump, she’d ask how high--

     “Majorly very.” Duke had made the art of agreeing with Chandler a language in of itself at this point.

     And speaking of VERY, she was OH-SO-VERY relieved Heather seemed to be in an agreeable mood today-- As agreeable as the mystic bitch herself could manage, of course. Duke wasn’t asking for a miracle, she was just asking not to get SHIT ON for today. 

Heather was getting pretty fucking SICK of the whole ‘either giving each other head or giving each other a headache’ dynamic that had settled between her and JD.

     But HELL, THAT DYNAMIC BETWEEN THEM WAS BETTER THAN THE DISTANCE THAT COULD HAVE BEEN.

     The idea that ANY Chandler could be fucking pleasant to be around was even MORE FAR-FETCHED.