* IT WASN'T A SECRET !

ind. beck oliver from nickelodeon's victorious.

[divainity-a3]

i am officially back home what is POPPIN yall

[divainity-a3]

come bother me on discord actually while i vibe  king of keggers!#5511

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hi

[gigiandtheassassins]

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@vegahqs​  said:  “how am i supposed to get home in this weather?”

       a snowstorm. when snow stopped being wondrous and became a nuisance. icing the exit from their ski lodge that the gang had planned a trip to just before the holidays hit. a fun road trip up the hill full of scenic stops, with him as their faithful chauffeur. jade riding shotgun, of course. like anyone had a chance. carpool karaoke, driving games, and naps were all apart of the package. making memories with every minute spent together. without the confines of school all fun and games until the security announces that no one’s leaving until the storm calms itself. the roads wouldn’t be safe for anyone, nearly risking your life to back our of your parking stall. stuck on the hill, trapped in their lodge until the conditions were deemed safe. christmas eve was in just a few hours, the group planning to leave late at night to make it home by morning where they’d spend the rest of their break in the warmth of their homes.  if they could even get there.

    reality sets in. cue panic from the family people of the group. robbie wailing over the dropping temperatures even beneath several layers of clothes.  i’m sensitive!  he says despite ploys to calm him. andre upset over the freezing of his piano. kat, free-spirited as always, cheering for her love of the cold. much to the demise of the group.  so everyone except jade, descending into despair. of course her polar opposite begins to worry. ever the level-headed one of the group, of course he had to be the happy medium between temperaments.  they’d have to settle in regardless. may as well keep everyone sane.  ❝    alright, everyone chill out!  weather’s supposed to clear up in a few hours. then we can all go home. ❞    not like the weather report’s ever wrong.  right?

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@artsvega​ said:  is there something i should know?

          caught in the act. laying flat on the ground with a foam sword pointed to his throat at rex’s and therefore robbie’s hand. sikowitz in the corner cheering them on. jade watching from a front row classroom seat. all parties involved turned to tori in her sudden entrance. frozen like statues. only eyes moving to lock gazes with each other, hoping one of them would take a stab at it.  before he ultimately assumes the role of the voice of reason. even when there is none to voice.  ❝   ...  ❞    yikes.   ❝   you  ... don’t  wanna  know.  ❞ 

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@artsvega​ said:  “you have sprinkles in your hair.”

       three words.  kat. sky. store.  the newest installment in her long line of purchases— a machine to turn paper into faux snow. shredding it incredibly thin before shooting it into the sky, falling on innocent bystanders. another invention he didn’t know existed or why it had to exist to begin with.  sprinkles looking a lot like dandruff right about now, peppering his outfit like salt.  

       a deep sigh, accepting reality. grudgingly.     ❝   yep.  ❞  the ruffle of fingers through his glorious mane to shake flakes off its edges. just to confirm her point. before walking past her to get to improv before lunch’s end. waiting for her to catch up next to him in stride. no need to ask questions for something that was commonplace at this point.

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 @shevega​  said:  “how’d you always know when i’m down?”

        a look around, wondering if anyone else wants to take a stab at the question of the day. she’d flailed all over the lockers next to him, rolling over each metal door like she was attached to the wall. making a scene the way she knows best. before practically replacing his locker row with herself. making it impossible to ignore her if he tried. and oh, does he try.   ❝  maybe because you stomp up and down the halls wailing and screaming ‘i’m sad’ at anyone you walk past?  ❞    just a guess. 

[userspree-deactivated20250328]

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@shevega​ said:   “  you know, you’re actually not terrible.  ”

         oh,  the things he could say.  raised eyebrows at her sudden realization. stone-faced. looking around, searching for an ‘office’ camera to stare into before bothering to reply. ❝    it’s almost as if i was never terrible.  ❞  said like a matter of fact. an obvious  reality to him, but not to her apparently. the wave of fork as he digs into salad, feeding himself another spoonful while he pretends to be interested in her rationale. ❝    wanna tell me what changed your mind?  ❞

[beckact]

@choosesboth​ said:   “do you think I can fit these candy canes up my nose?” 

        no. the answer is no.  a man of little words but a man of reason none the less. but not one that couldn’t be swayed by entertainment. he pretends to think it over, carefully considering the possibility. examining the large, not mini-sized, candy cane that would most likely cause serious nasal damage being stuck where it doesn’t belong. ever the actor, feigning calculating the probability of his success in this endeavor. 

      a finger pointed to emphasize his point.  ❝    yes.   ❞   the guise of a supportive friend. not like that would’ve stopped troy anyway. ❝   i’ll watch so you have a witness when you brag about it.  ❞  and to have the nurse on standby.

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@atyped​ said:  “i’ll see you on the other side.”

       the murmur of the audience waiting on the other side of the curtain. visited in the wings by his uptight but effective director. the cast gathers to hear her final notes, her final threats to follow them before breaking just five minutes before show. instilled with the fear of god if there was even a toe out of the line she had so carefully crafted with her marked up script. this production was a tumultuous one, demanding of each and every role but especially his. the lead. overtime rehearsals, screaming matches over disagreements of character choices. heavy blocking, intense direction. but it’d be worth it to exhibit his skill. you never know if there’s a talent scout in the audience. 

       despite the hardship everyone wins when the production succeeds. an addition to portfolios, another notch in several belts. so he takes it in stride. wasn’t one to hold grudges anyway.   ❝   ‘break a leg’ works too, y’know.  ❞  a show of truce, bittersweet thank you. small smirk before he walks to his place. before quickly being yanked by the shoulder, harsh grip of hers spinning him around. all to fix his coat handkerchief. ever the perfectionist even to cut it close to show’s start. she’d push it back an hour if she had to, eager to impress. half-ass wasn’t a word of her vocabulary. an eye roll, letting it happen because he knew better. before giving her a look as if to ask:  satisfied?  she let’s go, but not before a  final   ‘don’t fuck it up’ glare before letting him take his place. ready for his cue that would come soon from her. on the other side.

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@cashierd​ said: i’m not leaving you here.

      a subtle roll of eyes, so mild that you might miss it.  but the sentiment still remains in his tone.  ❝  dude.  relax.  i’m pretty sure i won’t burn the place down while you take a lunch. ❞   hands are quick to organize the counter, clearing it of trash like he was trained. dusting off the cash box lovingly to emphasize his ease. contrary to popular belief, his chill demeanor was an asset at times. keeps him cool under pressure, during afternoon rushes. charisma helps too to make up for faking it when he doesn’t quite know what to do. still, it seems like his new colleague isn’t convinced. what could possibly go wrong? ❝  it’s cashiering. how hard can it be.  ❞   talk about asking for it. 

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@shevega​  said:   “This isn’t Pinterest-y enough!” 

    not that he didn’t know how particular she was about appearances. just that he somehow kept being surprised by what levels of superficiality her antics reached. every time. now inventing new terms that don’t exist, it seems.  ❝   isn’t what enough?  ❞  a glance over the baked good, a classic napolean cake with classic white frosting. heartfelt icing that string letters together over its surface. furrowed brows, not understanding her outrage. uninterested  as usual.  ❝   trina, it’s a birthday cake.  you’re gonna eat it anyway, who cares what it looks like before you dig in. ❞  

[beckact]

trina.

BECKACT.

               trina has a talent for being extremely annoying, that was something she’d been told countless times. she never specifically intends on being annoying, just wants to get his attention. and saying his name one time doesn’t work, so clearly she has to just repeat his name, louder every time, until he eventually stops.  ❝  what are you freaking about?  ❞   she leans over his shoulder to look at the script, practically leaning on top of him rather than over him.  ❝  you’ve been reading this thing all day.  ❞  

          a pained sigh, not even attempting to hide his exhaustion. both with practicing and with her.  book’s spine of prongs hit the table, closing itself by the weight. ❝    i’m not freaking about anything. i’ve got an audition this weekend.  a big one. ❞  playing it cool  to upkeep the brand, writing it off as smaller than even he thinks it is. hands that raise to discourage her nosiness. ❝    i just. wanna make sure i have it down, that’s all.  ❞   an understatement delivered like a true actor.  he mentally prepares himself for further interrogation. a chance at fame was like catnip to this one and he knew it. but still, he answered honestly. he was liable for further prying. 

[beckact]

babe.

“Friends?!” she fired back, dropping the bag from her shoulder to the ground with a heavy thud. Her voice hit a new volume. “And you didn’t think to tell me this before? I’m just supposed to find out about all your other girl - friends when I see them lurking around you?” A green eyed monster. She was jealous, she was protective – it had nothing to do with not trusting him, but she didn’t trust anyone else. 

        further escalation. still he is calm, volume staying right where it’s always been.  hands raise, as if they could lower the stakes in their push downward. the school had become so tolerant of their one-sided shouting matches, barely even batting an eye.  ❝   how many times do i have to say it.   ❞  voice somewhat soft, always the peacemaker. he had to be to survive her.  ❝   can’t  you  just  trust  me?   i don’t get mad when you hang out with other guys.   ❞  not said with malice, more as a simple assertion of fact.

[beckact]

boychaang·:

IT WAS ALWAYS EXHILARATING,  performing his heart out like this, the encouragement from those watching and judging him being such a reassurance that yes, this is what he was meant to be doing. there’s a bright grin on his face as he bounds off the stage and down the stairs, snagging his water bottle on the way down from the wings before slightly jogging over to where other auditionees were seated, some waiting to audition and some who had already faced the metaphorical firing squad. taking a seat, he’s not exactly expecting anyone to comment on his audition, mainly because it was rare to see any of these guys, being a transfer and all.

          ❝ that ?  thanks, man. i’ve been practicing that routine for about a month. could               honestly do it with my eyes closed if the situation arose. me ?  going for the lead ?                oh god no, at least not purposely. i’m more just….aiming to be cast in this, you               know ?  just put my best forward and let the directors put me where they see fit. ❞

          every kid that walks these halls is after the same thing: fame. a knowing nod, picking up on the reason for the other’s  “ stranger status.”  humility. not found very often—  at least not at this school. kids here had a tendency for shark-like attitudes. cutthroat, always trying to get ahead, hungry for their big break that was due any day now. whether they bought their way in or earned it, there’s no hoping here, at least not after a while. there’s only doing. winning. roles, performances, projects, they were all avenues for success to upperclassmen. nothing more, nothing less. 

          after a while the wonder fades. it needs to if you’re gonna make it in los angeles, a city teeming with talent. he’ll recline further in his comfortable position, humming thoughtfully on his silent discovery.  ❝  you must be a transfer. ❞   subtle smirk, eyes still on the stage, watching the next contestant. no need for confirmation. he might be laid-back but that’s not to say he isn’t confident in his instincts.   ❝  when’d you get in? this semester? ❞