basketcase

natasha rowland. 23. they'll tell you i lost my mind.

[beautifulbasketcase]

Nat was fairly popular, and typically not for any good reason. So it wasn’t a wonder that some asshole had obtained her phone number and used it to their creepy, dirt bag advantage. The Murder House was holding a typical Saturday night party. Loud music, lots of booze, banging in every other room, so it could have been anyone sending her very specific, disturbing texts. If she wasn’t so amused by the situation, she would have blocked the number by now. 

[takeanempanada]

[beautifulbasketcase]

‘The Pi Iota Epsilon president’… sounds just about right, don’t it?

ask my muse a question and i can only respond with a gif ;;

[cockyhorrorshow--archive]

( @beautifulbasketcase )

It’d been two weeks since the place had been turned into a safe house, two weeks since the killer was even mentioned in the media — and as it seemed the last of the cops circled the property, a blasé Spencer finally deemed it safe to refurbish his van with his ˗ˏˋ glorious weed ˎˊ˗.

In the front yard, only his lower half perched out of the vehicle as he set the last of his plants in their place within. There was work ahead. For the four, nearing five weeks, they hadn’t gotten the luxury they had when stationed in his trash can on wheels. No grow lights, air filter, heater — though that’s not to say Spencer didn’t try to fetch said objects for his lil’ green cutie pies.

First he attempted his usual take on getting from Point A to Point B, a casual stroll — but the moment he stepped foot outside the cops were on him like flies on shit and he was led back inside. That’s when he attempted g h o s t i n g… but that didn’t end well, never does. His misdirection nearly getting him found out; it wasn’t the safest idea but DAMMIT he’d been desperate.

Making sure his babies were tended to had been a top priority during the whole, what many referred to as, ‘ ordeal ’ — and the reason he may have appeared relatively absent for the majority of it.

A glimpse at Nat walking down the sidewalk through the front windshield had him leaning out then. There she was. He hadn’t seen her since ‘ the whole ordeal ’; half of him didn’t expect to for at least another week, or when all the excitement had completely died out and the house was just haunted again. The way she’d acted during was nothing short of peculiar… in his perspective. Her body signals sang a song of fear. He assumed she’d just been nervous about the mysterious killer — which, truthfully, wasn’t Nat’s way – the FEARLESS girl – but that’s all he really had to go on.

The lanky brunette stood upright — his head poking over the roof of the van, “ Hey! ” He called, a teasing tone, “ You know the killer’s gone now, right? You can relax. ”

[beautifulbasketcase]

In all honesty, Nat was tired of coming up with excuses for coming over to the Murder House. She’d had a love/hate relationship with the place due to her on again off again horrific experiences, and then that pull. The house had always been like a bright shining light to the girl, and she was the metaphorical moth or butterfly or whatever. And even through being haunted, nearly killed, attacked, raped, and threatened ---- here she was again. Most would call her crazy if they had known what she’d been through, for coming back time after time, but she didn’t care. To her, this was taking control, and she wouldn’t let her mess of a past put her in a place of fear anymore. Or

As the bombshell approached the property line, she heard that oh so familiar call coming from Spencer in the direction of his van, and naturally she brought her hand up to lower her sunglasses a smidge. Perking a brow at his comment, she gave the area a quick scan (as if that would help at all), and stepped into the yard. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she called back, sending a sarcastic smirk his way as she continued through the lawn to meet him at his van. Finally, a reason to be here.

“They could be out here creeping right now,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest. “So you’d better let me in, or I might end up like that poor dog on the news,” she pouted teasingly, looking up at the ghost.

[iojijdfsdiofjs]

[drugswithadashofjetlag]

Needing some necessary relaxing time, Jared found himself laying out behind his house. The past few months had been nothing but hectic with sex conventions as well as working in his shop–he was lucky enough to be away from the place for a day if he was being honest with himself. And just like that, his luck had run out. Phone ringing, Jared couldn’t help the roll of his eyes as he fished it out of the grass next to his chair. “Yeah, what’s wrong now?” 

[beautifulbasketcase]

Ringing, ringing, ringing... Nat tapped her nails on the counter as she awaited Jared to answer his phone, and when he finally did ---- she didn’t get the greeting she thought she would. “Well, that’s rude, don’t you think?” Alright, so he was her go to guy when it came to the trouble she got in, but not this time.

[iuc]

[beautifulbasketcase]

Natasha Rowland → moodboard.

[beautifulbasketcase]

       Oh, how it was like the old times. Flashes of when she reigned presidency over the Pi Iota Epsilon girls zipped through her mind, a mischievous tug of her lips bringing a smirk to her features. Natasha stepped down the hall, on her way to the kitchen. There was a confidence in her step that nearly no one could take down. Nearly. Of course, she had her fair share of enemies in the house ------ but with it being so crowded, what were the odds of running into one of them? SLIM, she told herself. If anything, she’d have the pleasure of adding to the list.

[beautifulbasketcase]

( @bxkedstxner )

        Nudging the door to the Murder House open with her knee, Natasha flipped her shades up, nesting them into her mess of a hairstyle (which she sure as hell could pull off). In her other hand, her fingers securely clung to a bag of goodies from Chipotle. As promised. “Daniel!” Nat called out as she kicked the door closed and twisted to glance around the foyer. God, how she’d kill to be able to step into that house without paranoia spinning about in her mind.

[beautifulbasketcase]

“Apparently I was the first girl to call him a fuckboy to his face, I swear he almost started crying.”

[beautifulbasketcase]

Text: Danny to Natasha

Danny: Worst. ;P

Danny: Okay okay...

Danny: -sends mind reading capabilities to you-

Danny: chipotleDannywantschipotle

Natasha: Oh my god

Natasha: Mmkay what do you want?(:

[r-e-d-c-o-a-t]

[beautifulbasketcase]

Text: Danny to Natasha

Danny: Wait what? No...Jesus you are the WORST guesser

ever.

Danny: I'll give you a clue.

Danny: It involves food.

Danny: Fake-ish Mexican food.

Natasha: Shut up I'm the best haha

Natasha: ????

[beautifulbasketcase]

Text: Danny to Natasha

Danny: You know what would be AMAZING right now?

Danny: I'm not going to tell you, you have to guess.

Danny: I'm giving you three guesses..

Danny: No wAit! TWO GUESSEZ! You gotta read my mind through text!

Natasha: If I was waking up beside you? ;P

Natasha: If it wasn't so goddamn early lmao. Either of those right?

[allureable]

[beautifulbasketcase]

( @danny-baby01 )

It had to be nearing 2 A.M. -- no wait, a little past 2 A.M. when Nat found herself stumbling back from the bar. They’d kicked everyone out about half an hour ago, and in the commotion of Halloween night, the blonde managed to break away from everyone she knew. By accident, of course. But she was much too drunk to care. Feeling for her purse, Natasha glanced down only to realize that too had escaped her. “Mother... fucker...” she mumbled to herself, yanking the little nurse headband off of her head and tossing it to the side as she continued along toward her sorority house. She was about a block away, about 98% sure she was going in the correct direction, and without a phone to contact anyone to come find her. Not to mention, she was borderline freezing in her costume. Yet all of that still didn’t ruin anything about that day for her, and despite the fact that she looked as if she’d just been dragged through hell, she was in a particularly good mood.