𝒱 ⠀ .

ₛₑₚₜ ₁ₛₜ, ₁₉₈₉ ִ ⠀ 𝐃𝖾𝖺𝗋 ⠀ 𝐷𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚢 ⠀ … 𝑚y teen angst bullshit has a body count.

[09011989]

“  ⠀Are we going to the Prom?  ⠀ Or to Hell?  ⠀…

𝐕eronica 𝑆awyer from Heathers ,    ⠀ written by katarina (she, they)    ⠀ 21+    ⠀ [    ⠀ insp.   ⠀ ISABELLA ESLER AS VERONICA IN HEATHERS OFF-BROADWAY (2025)   ⠀ &   ⠀ HEATHERS (1988) DIR. MICHAEL LEHMANN AND WRITTEN BY DANIEL WATERS.   ⠀ this blog will contain triggering content,   ⠀ all triggers will be tagged “trigger /”

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ¹ ⠀pinterest

[09011989]

like this for … something

[09011989]

Hiiiiiii

[09011989]

and the thing about heathers: the musical is that i completely acknowledge that it is not good. i just love watching it anyways.

[wildspringday]

lukita maxwell via instagram

[zachrp]

ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM HIGH SCHOOL-BASED DIALOGUE + ACTION PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT. SEND "REVERSE" TO SWITCH THE ROLES OF SENDER AND RECEIVER.

DIALOGUE

stop pretending you don't care.

they took my phone.

don't make this harder than it already is.

that teacher hates me.

i thought you were my friend.

you don't belong with them.

you're not as scary as you think you are.

you don't owe them anything.

don't ditch me now.

you don't have to lie to me.

you're acting weird today..

did you do the homework, or are we both screwed?

i think i messed up.

they called my parents.

i didn't think you'd defend me.

why do you hang out with them?

is that blood or paint?

they're gonna find out eventually.

everyone was staring.

don't sit there, that's their table.

don't follow me.

why are you still here?

why do teachers always pick on me?

i swear i didn't mean it like that!

don't laugh, i'm serious.

you don't have to walk me home.

are you crying?

did you really say that about me?

you're gonna get us both in trouble!

can you cover for me?

what class do you have next?

you look exhausted.

you don't get to say that!

i didn't sleep at all.

don't sit so close.

i hate this place.

i thought you hated me.

i can't fail this class.

why are you always angry?

they were talking about you in the hallway..

i didn't mean to hurt you.

do you ever go home?

don't look back, just keep walking.

meet me after school?

don't look now.

why are you staring at me like that?

you never talk about your family.

i heard you got suspended.

you're sitting in my seat.

they locked the bathrooms again.

you missed the bus again.

everyone already thinks the worst of me.

i think the teacher knows.

why are you shaking?

i can't do this anymore!

why do you care so much?

you didn't deserve that.

they think we're together.

you're gonna get caught if you keep doing this.

you look like shit.

that's not what happened!

you didn't hear it from me.

you smell like cigarette smoke.

i didn't think you'd actually show up..

you're late.

don't answer that.

don't tell the teacher, please.

why are you being nice to me?

you always do this when you're nervous.

i saved you a seat.

you gonna eat that?

you missed a lot yesterday.

you're gonna regret that.

you heard that rumor too, huh?

don't touch my stuff.

stop acting like this doesn't matter..

you gonna tell anyone about this?

you really believe that crap?

you're bleeding through your sleeve.

they're watching us.

you skipped again, didn't you?

you're not invisible, you just act like it.

sit down before you get us in trouble.

i'm not going to prom.

i wish today was over.

i can't go home yet.

i thought you'd understand.

i think i like you..

you always disappear when things get bad.

i didn't know who else to tell..

you skipped lunch again..

that test was impossible!

you always push people away first.

you didn't have to do that..

ACTIONS

( copy ) : for SENDER to copy answers off RECEIVER'S test.

( standup ) : for SENDER to stand up to a bully for RECEIVER.

( hide ) : for OUR MUSES to hide out in an empty classroom.

( fluster ) : for SENDER to fluster RECEIVER on purpose.

( borrow ) : for SENDER to borrow RECEIVER'S jacket.

( wait ) : for OUR MUSES to wait out detention together.

( exchange ) : for OUR MUSES to exchange looks behind the teacher's back.

( scold ) : for a teacher to scold OUR MUSES together.

( storm ) : for SENDER to storm off, leaving RECEIVER behind.

( walk ) : for OUR MUSES to walk home together in silence.

( check ) : for SENDER to quietly check if RECEIVER is okay.

( laugh ) : for OUR MUSES to get in trouble for laughing at the wrong time.

( sit ) : for SENDER to sit with RECEIVER at lunch unexpectedly.

( aside ) : for SENDER to pull RECEIVER aside to talk privately.

( cover ) : for SENDER to lie to a teacher to cover for RECEIVER.

( slam ) : for SENDER to slam their locker shut beside RECEIVER.

( skip ) : for OUR MUSES to skip class together.

( whisper ) : for SENDER to lean over to whisper during class.

( seat ) : for OUR MUSES to be forced to sit next to each other in class.

( stop ) : for SENDER to break up a fight RECEIVER is involved in.

( flinch ) : for RECEIVER to flinch when SENDER raises their voice.

( ignore ) : for SENDER to purposely ignore RECEIVER all day.

( break ) : for OUR MUSES to break a school rule together.

( glare ) : for SENDER to glare at RECEIVER across the classroom.

( wait ) : for SENDER to wait outside RECEIVER'S classroom.

( ditch ) : for OUR MUSES to ditch lunch to hide somewhere quiet.

( sneak ) : for OUR MUSES to sneak out of school early.

( shove ) : for SENDER to aggressively shove RECEIVER against a locker.

( steal ) : for SENDER to steal something from RECEIVER'S bag.

( argue ) : for OUR MUSES to get into a heated argument in the hallway.

( tease ) : for SENDER to tease RECEIVER in front of others.

( note ) : for SENDER to give RECEIVER a written note that says ______.

( share ) : for OUR MUSES to share earbuds during class.

( ride ) : for OUR MUSES to miss the bus on purpose.

( trip ) : for SENDER to intentionally trip RECEIVER in the hallway.

( block ) : for SENDER to block RECEIVER'S path in the hallway.

( crowd ) : for SENDER to corner RECEIVER near the lockers.

[09011989]

got heathers rush tickets today so i will be on later

[09011989]

did you rat me out?  ⠀ @amalgi for dallas winston

dear diary,     ⠀i can’t seem to get a read on this guy. i don’t think he trusts me. i don’t particularly blame him. i’m not sure i trust myself either.

they meet eyes for the first time across the small, rundown gas station. veronica looks for a long time. longer than is socially acceptable. she attempts to distract herself by bringing the slushee she’s drinking to her lips, breaking the monotony. the red dye from the artificial cherry flavoring coats the inside of her mouth as she keeps staring. eventually, her straw reaches the bottom of the cup, and brings her back to reality. she goes to refill her drink before checking out, too distracted to speak to the cashier.

as she’s leaving she glances over at him one more time, though he’s no longer looking at her. he’s entirely focused on something else. she lingers near the door, trying to figure out what he’s doing, but before she’s able, he catches her eye again and she not-very-casually makes her way out the door — into the muggy nighttime air.

outside, it smells of wet asphalt and secondhand smoke and veronica sits on the edge of the sidewalk, a cigarette between her fingers and her cherry slushee sat on the concrete beside her. her head turns when she hears the door chime as he’s being thrown out by the gas station attendant. again, she lets curiosity win, looking for a moment too long, trying to decipher what had happened. 

“ no. i barely spoke to the guy. he gave me my change and i came out here. ” the truth, her plea of innocence declared as she puts out her cigarette on the asphalt, ash building up beneath it. “ besides, i wasn’t paying attention to you. ” and there’s the lie! even now, she can’t look away from him. she stands up, wiping the gravel off of her skirt. “ well. hope you have a good night. ”

[09011989]

this whole society’s going down the tubes.  ⠀ @divoutful for j.d.

dear diary,     ⠀i’m beginning to think that j.d.’s resentment toward the world is starting to become my own. or maybe i’ve always been this angry. i find myself telling him the thoughts i normally save for these pages, and he feels the same — sees the world in the same way. sure, he’s a little intense, but he’s real. he doesn’t bullshit. that’s why i’m drawn to him, i think.

sanctuary is found beneath the harsh fluorescent lighting in the westerburg high cafeteria. a convocation for the only two people who haven’t let society’s rot infect them, eat away at them from the inside. the virus has made its way into her, but she can feel herself actively fighting it off, avoiding the contagion. instead, she sits in front of what she believes to be the cure. she inhales the scent of synthetic cleaning chemicals, tilting her head to the side. “ well. i’m pretty sure the best of society isn’t hanging around in sherwood, ohio. ” she quips, a playful smile making its way onto her face. her tone is laced with a resigned bitterness. you and i are the exception, though, veronica thinks, letting her eyes meet his.

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.

[09011989]

pls stop trying to break up w me thanks

only if you stop murdering my classmates

[09011989]

also i need to write out my verses, which i’ll hopefully do by tomorrow, but i will obviously indicate when interactions with j.d. specifically are before or after kurt and ram’s death.

[divoutful]

A Westerburg revolution wrapped in cold metal, and JD teases it gaily, running his thumb against the hammer with quiet reverence. Here they stand; the makers of their universe, coming forth to amend the bitter sins of high school — and Veronica has the fucking audacity to open her mouth, and call it quits. Quits!

He thinks of dear old mother, waving through a window as the brick explodes around her, burying her alongside his childhood innocence. Disappointment after smoking disappointment. Woes of the world, isn’t it? A constant static that separates all of us from any true connection.

“ What? ” Asked as if he genuinely does not understand; but a dark air accompanies, as if forbidding further explanation. A wound dressed as a question. Now does a bitter smirk form, and he presses the gun barrel against his chest as if it’s his own heart. “ Veronica, we’re doing something here. Something real, that matters. For God’s sake, I mean— ” And he begins to pace, swinging the gun with emphasis. “ —The Romans built empires! And we sit here and elect, y’know, prom queens. ”

[09011989]

her line of eyesight follows the gun as it makes its way to his heart, staying there. her blood rushes to her ears, her heartbeat rising along with the barrel. “ that’s not our job, j.d. ” her voice is hoarse — volume raising above the reverb of his shotgun — the impact still ringing through her ears. “ nobody’s gonna care about prom queen in ten years, anyways. ” she takes another drag from her cigarette, attempting to clear her mind: to help her think coherently. it’s hard to continue thinking rationally, when his voice whispers over right shoulder every night: influencing her conscience, annotating over her pre-written soliloquy.

“ and shooting the armchair in your house isn’t going to do anything. ” she takes a step toward him, “ i just think — there’s got to be a way to do something real without increasing the number of funeral processions. ” and some part of her needs for him to validate her statement: to claim that, ‘yes! things can change when we finally practice pacifism instead of indulging in my homicidal tendencies.’ but she's balancing herself on a thin wire of feigned naivety. on pretending to believe that she could convince herself that her hands were entirely clean: that she wasn’t responsible for any of the vigils held at westerburg high.

“ yeah, i don’t think we see eye-to-eye. ” she continues, trying to justify her desire to cut this off: to remove the infection before it continues to spread.  “ on any of this. ” she’s attempting to sever his vision from her own, but it’s more difficult than veronica anticipated — like trying to stab yourself in the eye while the rest of you is entirely conscious. her gaze meets his again, and there’s an intensity she feels drawn to. but she tries to swallows down that desire, to let it settle alongside the anger she feels: toward him, toward everything.

[09011989]

you’re pissing up the wrong fucking tree.  ⠀ @amalgi for heather chandler

dear diary,     ⠀i think that heather chandler is capable of murder. in particular, i think that she’s capable of my murder. regardless of how virtuous and good your intentions are, she’ll turn it back onto you, making you seem like some conniving bitch. let me say this much: there’s one conniving bitch at this school, and it isn’t me. she appears behind you in the mirror when you whisper “heather chandler” three times, carrying a red croquet mallet, ready to bash your head in.

veronica has to bite the inside of her cheek so hard that the taste of copper begins to seep into her mouth to avoid exploding at her best friend. her eyes roll so far into the back of her head that she swears she can see the ridges of her brain. she’s fed up, and heather chandler demeaning her only pushes her further into the state of self-hatred she’s been ruminating in since becoming a heather. 

“ jesus, heather. ” she’s not atoning anyways. apologies from veronica have become common practice in their relationship. some half-baked apology mumbled over morning mimosas in heather chandler’s backyard. false repentance can only be practiced so many times before it becomes resentment. “ i already said i was sorry. i’m not going to kiss your ass, too. ”

[09011989]

if you don’t help me, how can i help you? we’re supposed to be friends.  ⠀@satanless for heather duke

dear diary,     ⠀i try to be a good friend. i really do. but as of recent, heather duke has ostensibly ruined any shred of goodwill that i had toward her. she only ever seems to talk to me when she needs something from me, and for some reason that totally beguiles me, i always end up giving in. not today, though. i have to stand my ground.

veronica’s distaste for heather duke contorts her entire face, her frown revealing the inner-workings of her internal monologue. playing the friend card. really? she must really want veronica’s help. she can hear the overbearing saccharine in heather duke’s tone, and a wave of nausea crashes over her. she crosses her arms, letting her expression persist. “ i don’t really think we’re friends anymore. ”

she begins searching for a point of exit — something she can pretend to be distracted by, that will definitively end the conversation before heather duke can protest. as her eyes wander, she continues her speech: “ besides, i have no interest in putting up with your pseudo-heather chandler bullshit. so if you need help with something, i recommend looking elsewhere. ”

[09011989]

i was just playing along.  ⠀@divoutful for j.d.

dear diary,     ⠀ my dark horse high-school sweetheart likes to shoot firearms in the house. i’m totally freaked. i don’t know why i keep hanging out with him. his anger at the world seems to be fusing with my own: the jolts of electricity that’ll be used to create a frankenstein’s monster of teenage angst.

bile begins to creep up into her throat, some pungent mix of cigarette smoke and a bag of twizzlers, guzzled down with black coffee and intermittent sips of J.D.’s coca-cola. she watches the smoke billow from the arm of the chair he shot at, the bullet lodged a couple of inches into its structure. “ your definition of playing is severely fucked, j.d. ”

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. ”

[09011989]

i actually think that veronica is very socially inept, so her desire for the social shield that the heathers provide makes it so people automatically are more willing to converse with her or just sort of agree with anything she says. which is appealing for about a week, and then she starts to resent it.

[09011989]

also my veronica very much is an amalgamation of the musical and the movie. i saw isabella esler this week as veronica and it was life changing. her veronica is so desperate to be liked and accepted, she thinks that’s what will get her through high school unscathed. she quite literally goes so far as to get on her knees in front of heather chandler and beg for forgiveness. yes, she is still sardonic and witty, but she portrays the innate desire of wanting to be cool, both in front of the heathers and in front of j.d. (in which she presents as almost two completely different people), so well.