#divoutful

Mr and Mrs Duke had overtaken Heather on their entry to the church, but plaid pine green finds its eyes on Veronica and JD, talking outside of the regal building Heather's still warm body sits in. “ I always knew that Heather's death would make this world a better place, I just had no idea it would spark love between the worst Westerberg's got to offer. ” @09011989 @divoutful

⠀⠀Knees buckle into a cradle, cerulean eyes slant as the sand restlessly hovers at his level. The sand could always track someone until it is covered by more – a problem never had with concrete or grass. He feels like it's telling on him, like he's a little boy in Caladan again, and it's hard not to feel such a way with everyone's eyes on him almost constantly. Muad'dib, take us to paradise. ❛❛ Do you ever get tired of this view? The sand never changes. I rarely see it move, and when it does, it's being thrown by the wind, or a worm has shifted it in its journey to the surface. ❜❜ A smile forms to the side, ever so slight, and melancholy in its tone. Maybe he longs for home, but he doesn't really know anymore. @divoutful– –

the sound of her window lock being tampered with snaps her back to reality, the pages of her diary slamming shut. she sits up in her bed, clamoring to get to her feet. eyes widen for a moment, the surprise she feels written across her face. but she shoves it down, trying to maintain her composure. even now, she still wants him to think she’s cool. “ take the hint. ” she spits, tone laden with indignation. “ and get out of my room. ”

she leans forward in her seat as she continues to speak, gesturing with one hand to the rest of the student body. “ and westerburg is a lost cause, ” a half-joke, spoken as gospel: something veronica has known for years and that j.d. will eventually come to accept. she lets out a short laugh, the physical reaction to stating something so obvious that it felt ridiculous to point it out.

veronica fishes through the pocket of her blazers, hand finding a loose cigarette, the other settling on her lighter. she brings the cigarette up to her lips, hand shaking as she cups it, lighting the cigarette with her other. she lets the flame flicker near her palm for a moment too long before letting it out. she takes a drag, praying that her hands stop shaking, that j.d. can’t see the discomfort that permeates through her body. she can’t bring herself to look at him, but in her peripheral she can see the gun, still dangling in his hand. she hears it before she has time to register what she’s said: “ i think we should break up. ”

A hand reaches for Buffy's soft hair, mannerisms only calm; a twirl of her finger followed by a sway of the head, it's hard not being thankful, after all, Buffy's found her way about being cool with Jennifer's... condition. But still, the girl will find some way to evade owing anyone a thank you. ❛❛ I totes appreciate you not telling that British guy about it, Buff, but I just, like, don't see the point in changing shit up. You can't exactly fucking exorcise a vag that's been cursed like, double the normal amount. ❜❜. @divoutful– –

A meme lost in Sophie's storage units