Doin' the Cockroach.

"THIS one's a crazer, daydreamin' disaster." Benedict Rowdy // 17 Third year at Network Academy

[aripasta]

[benedictrowdy]

aripasta:

RowdyRuff Boys Aesthetics

“We are wild We are like young volcanoes”

[bdeatific]

the ‘boys with undercut 'dos is my achilles heel

[angelica-wth]

Not all of us are bitching about the living arrangements, some of us are complaining about not seeing family.

[benedictrowdy]

Okay, sure, but it’s not like all the nerds’ fussy moms are going to let this last, so why not enjoy the extra weeks of vacay before we get kicked out?

[terrormarkov-blog]

“They’re not ‘letting’ us. They’re forcing us. And some people have families they’d like to see. Homes they miss.”

“Just because your life’s a bummer doesn’t mean everyone else’s is too, dude.”

[benedictrowdy]

“Ha! It does now! The Utoniums and every other happy family can officially suck my white trash broken home’s dick.” 

“That’s great, Twitch, really, but you don’t have any of those things so I don’t see what you’re seizing about over there. C’mon, don’t bullshit me. What’s really got you this pissy about staying?”

[going-ghost-girl]

“Yea, its actually not that terrible, not sure why people are complaining.” She said before turning around to see who was talking. “Oh, it’s you”

[benedictrowdy]

“Surprise!” 

“And look how lucky you are, ya fuckin’ lawn gnome. You get to spend the whole damn Summer with me.”

[terrormarkov-blog]

[May 6, 2015]

[terrormarkov-blog]

‘Twitch.’ Really? 

Regardless of how little is appealed to her, Tara didn’t want to argue with the nickname. Potential friend or not, Ben was an antagonist. He thrived on people’s reactions; if she let him know that it annoyed her, she would latch the name into place. Her best option was to let him use it for now, and gradually gain his respect until she would be leveled up to a cooler nickname: something really hardcore like ‘Vixen’ or ‘Switchblade.’ So for now, she only rolled her eyes, to show her dissatisfaction without giving his teasing too much gratification, and leaned in when he took out his lighter.

While this was her first time touching an unfiltered cigarette, it wouldn’t be her first time taking a drag. The last time she reinvented herself, back in New Jersey, she passed time with punks who would talking her into getting the hook of nicotine for a month before she bowed out. It was never able to calm her nerves, maybe because she went through too much guilt every time her lips touched the cigarette. They only ever made her feel unhealthy. Her lungs felt cleaner after being three years straight-edged, and she wondered if she had any tolerance left for the drug. Only one way to find out.

Nerves shook the second she saw the flame. A moment of doubt in her ability to do this without coughing, immediately followed by a feeling of overall insecurity when she felt his gaze on her. Benedict was slick and confident; the trick he did when he pulled his cig out of the pack was enough to make her feel more intimidated by him in that place more than ever before. She made shaky eye contact while huddling over the flame, and there was a feeling of bizarre intimacy in the scene. But the second she felt it, she reminded herself of her prior realization: there was no way she was going to get close to this kid, and she knew that. There was nothing to feel awkward about with this intimacy, because neither of them were ever going to feel any attachment to each other. He had no soul; she was damned. He was nothing; she was nothing. What was there to feel in his presence? There was no need for inferiority, nor comfort, nor nerves or calm. She didn’t need to think or care. She just needed to play along with his rituals to gain his respect.

No pressure. No anything.

While the butterflies in her stomach curled up and died, she inhaled the cigarette slowly. She wasn’t looking to match his drag. She just needed enough to get a fair-sized stream of smoky exhale. The second she started to feel that sordid tickle, Tara reminded herself one last time that there was nothing to panic about. A long, thin and almost surprisingly successful exhale into the road. She repressed the impulse to cough, and gathered spit to swallow in an attempt to kill it. Maybe there was some incoming lightheadedness from her first strong cigarette in such a long time, but if she really felt anything, she felt cool.

His question broke into her numb meditation. “Ah,” A couple minutes ago, she would have panicked about not having her wallet with her. Tara wasn’t involved in smoking culture anymore, so she wasn’t sure if it was basic etiquette to pay for a smoke that was offered without being summoned, or if he was just messing with her. Regardless of circumstance, she wasn’t giving him the flustered reaction he was looking for this time. “Yeah, I don’t really have any money on me right now. Not sure what you want me to tell you.”

[benedictrowdy]

Ben couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or impressed. He lost the entertainment of a wannabe trying and failing for his attention, but the fall was cushioned by an ego boost. Tara could act as tough as she wanted now, and maybe she could even pull it off. But a smooth drag from an unfiltered cigarette didn’t change the fact that she was stuttering, groveling for his amusement and approval just a few moments ago. She obviously approached him in an effort to be his friend. Proving that there might be a hard bone in her body just made him feel cooler. He was used to people (girls especially) flirting with Brick when they wanted to ‘roll with the bad boys.’

Now he knew how Brick felt when they were kids. This was how it felt to be the captain rather than a follower. He mused on the idea of turning Tara into his bitch, someone he could mold the same way Harrison and Moses were molding the boys. He thought about being the idol, the kid with enough respect to have an apprentice, and how people would eventually follow Tara’s suit. He thought about how hard it would be to considered “one of the Rowdy brothers” when he was leading his own gang. Or, if he changed his mind and wanted to become an independent force, he could just dump her after he built up his reputation.

And he liked the idea of a hot blonde sidekick. Tara could... almost be that, if you squinted and looked far enough into the future. Sure, it wouldn’t kill her to shop for a push-up bra, but she had the pretty face, a slender body, eyes blue enough to make a poet cum for weeks, the balls to approach him and basically tell him to fuck off when he asked for money, the ability to be cool when she stopped trying to be funny, and probably the endurance of a skater, based on how often he saw her on that longboard. She clearly had more experience than she let on, judging by the way she handled her smoke. There was an attitude she was hiding from her dweeby friends, and it looked like she was finally letting it slip out. She had definite potential, he just couldn’t calculate how much.

He had to test her. Make sure she was worth a damn before he wasted his time.

“Ts’alright. Not really a hard debt to repay.” Benny took a drag before continuing. “Classes let out for the day in about twenty, yeah? Throw your shit in your dorm and meet me in the east parking lot around then.”

He added, “Wear long sleeves.”

[benedictrowdy]

“So, they’re letting us stay here the whole Summer? We’re gettin’ food and housing in a beach town right next to Seattle, and people are bitching about this?”

“Just making sure I heard this all right.”

[rainbow-kuki]

Excuse you I’m pletely likeable.

[benedictrowdy]

Gonna needta be more convincin’ than that.

Prove it. Right here. Do something funny and interesting.

[linintheclouds]

♥ ✌ ❁ ❁ ✌ ♥   

[rainbow-kuki]

“I definitely think I should have my own show at some point in life.”

[benedictrowdy]

“Doncha have to be likable for that?”

[starrypines-blog]

Dancing was exhausting, a fact Mabel forgot for the most of the night.  It was exhausting and too much fun for her to let up, and she barely left the dance floor.  There were, honestly, only two reasons she did: to take off her shoes at the very beginning of the night, and to fix her makeup after kissing a boy in the corner of the floor, partially hidden by one of the DJ’s speakers.  He was a messy kisser but a welcome distraction from the hurt in the balls of her feet.  

The third time, Mabel’s stomach was aching from laughing and getting low(er than her limit) during a throwback song DJs loved to play.  The voice of reason in her head—sounding strangely like Dipper—told her to take a break, and Mabel’s was spent at the snack table, too close to the darkest haired Rowdy boy for comfort.  But only depending on your definition of that.  Mabel was blushing as she slid closer to him, laughing at the spot of guacamole on his face.

“You gotta a lil’ something right there,” she pointed to it before outstretching her hand, taking the spot of it on her finger and putting it into her mouth.  “You don’t mind, do you?”

[benedictrowdy]

Network wasn’t a huge school. By the end of your first year, you knew everyone in your grade. By the end of your second year, you knew everyone in the grades above and below you. By the end of year three, you could name most of the student body. But even if the academy was three times its size, Ben was pretty sure he would still be familiar with the talking squirrel known as Mabel Pines. She was the human embodiment of a Lisa Frank sticker book, an overflow of color and happiness beyond logic and sense. Her whimsical girliness freaked him out. He wasn’t even sure how to go about harassing her, so he usually targeted her company instead. Her dweebish brother and chubby older friend were way more convenient targets.

So when she, by herself, decided to close in on him, things got complicated for Benny. 

Straight-faced, he faked trying to bite her finger when her hand decided to invade his personal space. Did she think she was Bess? Did she think she was threatening or cool enough to touch him? Did she think casually interacting with him was a thing the student body could do. He was dumbfounded. Truly. “Guess not?”

He decided to give it a shot and mess with her already. He grabbed a small handful of guacamole. “Or, you know, you can just have your own.” With his thumb and pointer finger in his open palm, he flicked chunk of the dip at her. The goal was to mess up some of the pretty makeup, but he would settle for just aggravating her.

[benedictrowdy]

Wake-Up Call || Bess & Benedict

The night terror didn’t leave Benedict very terrified. There was nothing he could dream up that was worse than his real life. People already mistook him for his brothers and called him by the wrong name. He was already dumber than Brick and less talented than Bradley. He was already broke. He was already hated by the student body and neglected by his parents. If he wasn’t going to be a bitch about it in real life, a dream wasn’t going to ruin his week.

He could remember the part with the doctor diagnosing his arms irreparably paralyzed as the most intense. He remembered waking up with his fists clenched, but it didn’t make him upset, per se. It just made him want to punch the real Tara the second he was able to feel his hands again, as punishment for the smug face Dream Tara made in the hospital room. So, maybe it was for the best that he wasn’t going to see her today.

In a twist that nobody could have predicted, Ben was looking forward to doing schoolwork, even while classes were already over. He had plans with Bess to BS their whole extra credit science project in one day, but he was going to drag it out for as long as possible. Bess was the only person in the school who was sure to care as little about that stupid dream as Benny. She was going to be the same old angry chihuahua that would bark and bite when he messed with her, rather than the rest of the student body, who was too mopey and miserable to react to his bullying.

Only a few minutes late, surprisingly, he burst into the mostly empty library where his rival was already waiting at a table with their textbook in front of her.

“So ‘ere’s what I was thinkin’, Brutonium,” Ben sat on the table, looking down at the properly seated Bess and kicking his feet childishly as they hung off the side. “We ditch the books, drive inna the city, catch that new Insidious flick, ya cry into my shoulder when it gets too scary, then treat me to lunch to bride me into keepin‘ quiet about it.” He slid the textbook to the opposite side of the table. “’Cus, let’s be real: daddy’s girl isn’t gonna get a D.”

[benedictrowdy]

Headcanon: Science Class

Much to Bess’ delight, Professor Utonium has assigns Benedict as her lab partner every time they share one of his classes. They butt heads over the smallest things when the professor isn’t looking, and Benedict tries to get her to do all of the work since she actually knows what she’s doing.

But when the professor is looking, Ben plays up a Misunderstood Punk With A Heart of Gold persona, because he knows it drives Bess insane. Utonium, wanting to be the cool teacher for Ben to trust and open up to, lets him get away with more mischief and terrible grades than any other teacher at the academy. Rather than listening when Bess tries to tell him that Benedict is a piece of trash both inside and out, he insists that the two whippersnappers “have more in common” than she thinks, and wants her to be patient with Ben, to help her old man get through to that poor, troubled youth.

As soon as Professor U. looks away, Benny goes back to teasingly flirting with Bess and continues putting no effort into their work with a smirk on his face. But when they’re in earshot of Utonium, he fakes interest in the material, asking Bess questions that the Professor knows she can explain. She’ll pretend to draw diagrams to help elaborate, but she’s actually writing out “Ways to Dispose of a Human Body” while shooting Ben dirty looks.

Bess has refused to give him a free ‘A’ for screwing around and doing nothing every day, so their grade has suffered this year. Disappointed in both of them, Utonium has decided to give them a heavy extra credit assignment to occupy them while they’re stuck at Network. But if Bess thinks Ben is a useless partner while they’re in the same room as the professor, she’s in for a world of frustration when they need to meet up to work together outside of class.

[everaftcrs]

“No, it is the having of the fun.”

[benedictrowdy]

“Ah, thanks for clarifying, Fez.”

[secrethalfa-blog]

“Wonder if this year the dance will actually end on time or when the gym teacher threatens to pull the fire alarm. Again.”

[benedictrowdy]

“Why’re ya trying to get out of here so soon, Fenton? Is the ballroom haunted?”

[bess-also-begins-with-b-blog]

“Keep walking. Not dancing with you.”

[benedictrowdy]

“Relax. I know ya only dance with your sisters.” 

“Did come over here to warn ya 'bout that, though. You should prolly tone it down. Don’t want all this Flowers in the Attic business gettin’ out, yeah?”

[benedictrowdy]

In truth, this kind of setting made Benedict pretty cramped. He couldn’t dance like Bradley and Brick thrived more than he did in hookup-type atmospheres. When Tara wriggled away and Moses and Harrison found their sexual pursuits for the night, he made a casual dash to the snack table to occupy himself. If he was busy instead of just standing around, nobody could notice how uncomfortable he was.

Benedict, being Benedict, naturally wound up messing up at least half of the cupcakes. He smeared icing with his hand and then managed to contaminate most of the chip bowls with said uprooted icing. He was eating straight dip with his fingers when he noticed someone watching him. There was guacamole on the side of his mouth when he asked, “Problem?”