mcnamara

Jesus, I'm on the freaking bus again, because all my rides to school are dead. indie Heather McNamara from the Heathers musical

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accidentally logs onto this blog

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——✍;;{ ✉ }

             Veronica was so used to Heather’s touchy-feel-y hellos               that she didn’t even have to turn around to know the girl               perched haphazardly on her shoulder was none other               than the tiny head cheerleader. Heather McNamara was                practically dwarfed, with her 5’4” curly blonde head coming               up only to Veronica’s shoulders. She crossed her arms and                side-eyed the girl, hiding a secret grin in the corner of her                mouth.

                       ❝ Heyyy, Heather. How was cheer practice? ❞

♚ ;; ℋℳ ——

        ❝  We perfected a new lift. It's, like, the grand finale              of our new routine. Just you wait until next week's              pep rally when you get to see it ! ❞ 

           With her gently chipper tone, it was easy for her to conveniently            leave out the fact that perfected only meant found the balls to            salvage a final shred of trust in her team-mates not to let her            f a l l                                        ( again ).    

        ❝  Thanks for waiting after school for me, Veronica.              I really appreciate it. ❞ 

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for a christmas gift, you're all getting me revamping

it's a true christmas miracle

you're welcome

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GUESS WHO FIGURED OUT HER LOGIN

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finally gets around to fOLLOWING MORE PEOPLE

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veronica :

——✍;;{ ✉ }

                             ;; astatistic

               Veronica wrung her hands, fingers tying and untying                 themselves in and out of nervous knots. Heather was                 thanking her again. Thanking her for what-it didn’t even                 really matter. It was just the idea of being appreciated                 when she deserved no sort of appreciation that gnawed                 at Veronica. It ate at her slowly, until she felt she had no                 other choice but to tell the bright, bubbly, happy friend                 next to her the truth. The entire truth, even if it would                 take that sunshine out of her life for good.

                        “——Stop. Heather—don’t talk about me like that.                                   You don’t—you have no idea—”

                                   Veronica swallowed her words and blinked.                                    Once. Hard. Then exhaled.

                  “I killed Kurt. I shot him. It was me, not Ram.”

♚ ;; ℋℳ ——

            She had been doing better. With Veronica standing as her             protector & crutch, she had built herself back up from her             scared & rickety state of mind, regaining the pep in her             step and lilt in her voice. Heather was grateful. Every ounce             of her being was owed to Veronica, and she had grown             into the habit of expressing her ongoing gratitude, over as             little as company or a smile.

            But the admission causes her cheerful disposition to waver,             blue-eyed gaze shifting quickly to fixate upon her guilty             companion. No --- she couldn't have heard that right. The             very last thing Veronica Sawyer could be capable of was             murder. Brows knitted together, the small girl shrank in             anxiously upon herself, jaw clenched.

            "Veronica --- everyone knows it was a suicide. There was             the note and . . . "

            A handwritten note. Gaze falling to Veronica's hands, her             heart sinks, dubiousness draining away at an alarming              rate. Master of forgery --- Heather had witnessed first-             hand just how dead-on Veronica's take on the deceased              football players' writing could be.

            "What do you mean?"

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If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your face, I'd have matching halves.

♔ ; indie roleplay blog for Heather McNamara of the Heathers musical ♔ ; selective and semi-active, open to crossovers and ocs ♔ ; triggering content, all still carefully tagged ♔ ; skype available to mutuals at any time

That's very important.

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     Can you come over after school ? I have        a date, & I need outfit advice.

     ( she says "date" as if she's actually hopeful        that, for once, it won't be lame pranks and        sex. poor thing. )

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mia is my hero LOOK AT MY FANCY THEME

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       ( cue distressed and startled noises. )

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i've been peer-pressured into revamping 

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accidentally logs onto this blog

[pseudonymizeda]

❝ Newsies stop the World. ❞ 

indie Katherine Plumber ( Pulitzer ) of the musical Newsies

❝ Huh. ❞ 

six years of roleplay experience selective, open to crossovers

❝ A little hyperbole never hurt no one. ❞ 

comfortable with lit, icon convo, etc skype available to mutuals

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like for a starter !

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♚ ;; ℋℳ ——

          ❝ Can I pass ? I still have, like,               a massive hangover from                last night —— ❞

[astatistic]

If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your face, I'd have matching halves.

♔ ; indie roleplay blog for Heather McNamara of the Heathers musical ♔ ; selective and semi-active, open to crossovers and ocs ♔ ; triggering content, all still carefully tagged ♔ ; skype available to mutuals at any time

That's very important.

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a note that this blog is on hiatus, due to lack of muse !

consider me instead committed to betty finn.