ASK STELLA NORRIS!
ASK/RP BLOG RUN/OWNED BY @dizstermania go send love to my bestfriend @sycophant-sonny / @salviothreetwo.....
"Can you not shove that fuckin' camera in my face?"
⚙️⏖ Stella is 17. She will accept asks from anyone (OC blogs, canonical character blogs, and MAIN blogs!), mildly suggestive things are okay to send in. SHIPS ARE ALSO OKAY! ⚙️⏖ She's an ISTJ-T, female, and A GREASER! (as shown below. READ ALT) ⚙️⏖ Stella is naturally grumpy a lot of the time, do not take her responses to heart!
NORRIS'S BACKGROUND!
PRE-BULLWORTH:
Stella Norris was seventeen years old when her parents finally ran out of ways to love her. Maybe that love had simply worn itself thin, taut after every argument, one bad year turning into two, her father getting quieter, her mother getting meaner, doors closing harder than they needed to. Home stopped feeling like home long before she left it. At her old school, she was either late or didn’t attend altogether; she let schoolwork get shoved into drawers and collect dust. At home, she wandered through evenings outside with nowhere to be and nobody waiting for her. Friendships slid off of her like rainwater, she stopped cleaning her room, stopped believing tomorrow would feel different from today. By the time they sent her away to Bullworth Academy, it was a last resort nobody wanted to say aloud. Stella still remembered sitting at the kitchen table while her mother talked about discipline and fresh starts. Across from her, her father rubbed a hand over his face and stared down into a coffee cup that had already gone cold. They told her it was for the best, Stella sat there turning a loose thread around her finger and let them talk. She had stopped arguing months ago.
POST-BULLWORTH:
Surviving Bullworth meant picking a side, and Norris ended up with the Greasers. Upon joining the group, it made the school arguably bearable. But bearable wasn’t saying much: the school still sucked, classes sucked, most people sucked, but it wasn’t as bad as before. The group was the closest thing she’d gotten to friends in this place, which was weird to think about considering a couple months prior she barely knew any of them. Nonetheless, It was nice having people to keep her company rather than having to deal with everything alone; It gave her something else to focus on. She developed the fact that the school was stupid about these things called ‘cliques’. People picked sides over the dumbest things imaginable and stuck with it like it actually mattered. Whereas in her case: Greasers thought Preppies were spoiled assholes with too much money and too much time, Preppies looked at Greasers like they were dirt stuck to the bottom of a shoe. Stella thought both sides could be annoying, but it still didn’t stop things from turning ugly whenever they crossed paths. Preps. Stella had always hated them, as every other Greaser. The issue was the fact that she developed an embarrassing, inexplicable fondness for one of them: Derby Harrington. She couldn't pinpoint when or why it started, but if she were to guess, it'd be the one time she ever actually looked at him during one of the many common conflicts between the enemy cliques. It was as though a switch had been flicked in the back of her mind, and it was really annoying. Stella told herself she despised it all, but envy settled somewhere deep inside her ribs and refused to loosen up. Eventually, that envy won. She found herself standing outside the Aquaberry Outlet with a shopping bag hanging from her wrist and only two dollars left in her pocket. She stared down at the vest she'd just bought and wondered what the hell she was doing. Then Stacy came to life. Stacy was everything Stella believed she wasn't. She was polished and poised, her hair was well kept, and was just a completely different person from who Stella was. Stacy came from money (or at least looked like she did); the respect she'd been denied became readily available the moment she looked the part. That realization stung more than Stella would ever admit. Stella and maintaining the balancing act between being a Greaser and a Prep at the same time, all with the added weight of playing it off to both cliques, became exhausting. She told herself it had started because of Derby - that getting close to him had been the entire point. But somewhere along the way, the line between wanting Derby's acknowledgement and wanting what Derby represented began to blur. Stella couldn't decide which version of herself felt more like the lie.
MORE STELLA STUFF! + playlists
