Heather Chandler @lunchonmonday - Tumblr Blog

“You were nothing before you met me.”

“I’m worshipped at Westerburg. Everyone wants me as a friend or a fuck. And yet this greasy. little. nobody that I made the mistake of trying to tolerate wants to know why I’m such a ‘megabitch’.. in her words, not mine. She keeps saying I’m ‘better than this’. Ugh.”

“Do I look like Mother Theresa? No? That’s what I thought.”

“I demand control, and you can’t do that by being ‘nice’. No, you have to intimidate. And clearly, what I’m doing works! After all, everyone knows their place. The yearbook gets done properly, the prom is consistently awesome, and the Spirit Float always wins a goddamn blue ribbon.”

[ A B O U T H E A T H E R ]

[ M O D / R P I N F O ]

#heathers rp #heathers roleplay #roleplay blog #roleplay #heathers the musical #heather chandler #she is a mythic bitch #lunchtime polls #heather requires your presence #shut up heather

I'm writing you a citation for splashing a superior, but I don't have my pad, so I'm giving you an imaginary one. But your shame should be real.

Heather rolled her eyes, stepping back as if she were standing near something contaminated.

“A citation? Really? This isn’t summer camp. And what does ‘splashing a superior’ even mean? The only thing you’re getting splashed with is bong water.”

#heathers rp #heathers the musical #heather chandler #lunchtime polls #bunk’d?

what’s your damage why are you such a bitch

Heather sighed as if inconvenienced.

“Well, being nice sure doesn’t get you anywhere. People will try to claw their way to the top. You have to keep them down.”

#heathers rp #heathers the musical #heather chandler #lunchtime polls

I hate you but I’m pretty sure J.D. hates you more

Heather rolled her eyes at the mention of J.D., her nose scrunching up for a moment in disgust.

“Psycho trenchcoat kid? Oh, he’s made it clear he despises me.”

She checked her nails as if uninterested in the conversation and let out a ‘hmph’

“Do you think it makes you cool to hate me? Maybe that it makes you different enough for some attention? You’re still irrelevant. I’m worshipped at Westerburg. Nobody’s gonna care about your opinion.”

#heathers rp #heathers roleplay #heathers #heathers the musical #heather chandler #lunchtime polls

lunchonmonday

J.D. was sitting in one of the stairwells near the lockers. He was reading a book, which he so often did at school when looking for an easy distraction and escape from his own humdrum existence and rather unbearable classmates. His stairwell of choice appeared to be less occupied than usual for the day, leaving him to read undisturbed. He preferred to read in quiet spaces whenever possible, though it certainly didn't stop him from observing the people around him while doing so. He found his mind to be a rather noisy place, much more so than any of the students he was in forced proximity with on a regular basis. But, the outside noise was still not particularly appreciated on his part.

If he was being honest, he would admit he struggled to concentrate and keep his head on straight when there was too much noise around him. Seemed like the only thing he could ever truly focus on in the haze of his brain was always the book right there in front of him. His knee rocked back and forth slightly as he read, even in his most concentrated and focused state he couldn't stop moving for long. That small act of readjustment helping with his own clarity. Otherwise he sat there frozen like a statue, barely blinking or moving save for the occasional nose rub or knee movement. It was like the world around him had stopped existing entirely. If anyone tried to interrupt him in the act he likely wouldn't even react at all unless he was ready to..

- @asteroidthatsoverdue 💣🖤🥤

TRIGGER WARNING- Homophobia, F slur

asteroidthatsoverdue

(TW: Gender dysphoria!)

Hearing Heather’s voice addressing him directly was enough to snap J.D. out of whatever reading-induced trance he found himself in. Though he show it at first. Opting instead to ignore her, even if now he couldn’t concentrate on the book that just had his full undivided attention mere moments before she strutted towards him in that familiarly entitled fashion she always did.

Thinking back to that recent conversation he had with Veronica after climbing through her bedroom window, he knew far too well that the problem with people like Heather Chandler was that she was a virus that wouldn’t go away on her own. Heather expected a reaction out of him she could weaponize in whatever social war she decided to wage between them.

Maybe it was that exact conversation with his beloved along with a severe lack of self-preservation and a desire to finish that next chapter (it certainly wasn’t going to finish itself now was it?) that lead him to finally move, rotating his neck with a small click of his tongue before putting a bookmark in his book. Guess it’ll have to wait until he’s done with Heather.

“Heather Chandler, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked with a polite smile, but the edge in his overly jovial voice and dead-eyed unblinking expression were hard to truly miss. “Seems on the nose to accuse me of getting in the way don’t you think? I mean, you’re the one drawing attention to me reading a book that’s likely above your grade level unless you find someone to write the book report and fake your handwriting.”

He tilts his head, his polite grin growing smug as if to say “I know why Veronica’s really in the group.”

“I don’t act mysterious. Can’t help if I have that aura about me, like how your aura indicates only the best about you…”

As much as he wants to flinch at Heather’s statement about his appearance, he doesn’t. He knows better than to give her the ammunition. Oh, yes how original of her. Like he hadn’t heard such language in the last ten high schools nor had it planted roots in his skull for all time’s sake. No matter how much her comment on the way he looked made him want to tear his own flesh off his bones and completely reconstruct his face and body in the ashes of what remained until nobody ever talked about how he looked “girly” again he didn’t react to it.

Instead, he began tapping the spine of his book in a rhythm he often liked to hum, looking down as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek in thought.

“You would know a lot about being so feminine, huh? Seems everyday you’re always polishing up that look of yours like when a pit crew works on a race car. You know, you ever think about the certain dangers of beauty? That hairspray you put on your curls is more flammable than a well-constructed pipe bomb and combined with the hair dryer? That’ll do it, can’t wait for the day scorched up Heather enters the school and tries to make it the new fashion trend. Of course there’s also that makeup that’ll likely melt your face off into a fleshy puddle on your skirt, suffocation by clothing too tight, snapping your neck like a twig after tripping in heels, and cutting off brain cells with that scrunchie, which you likely already are since you need Veronica to forge things for you as opposed to learning yourself. Need I say more? You know what I mean. Beauty is pain. Is it really worth it to look so feminine?”

He finally stood up, grinning wider as he bowed at her with his arms out.

lunchonmonday

TRIGGER WARNING- Mentions of death and suicide

Heather stared at J.D. as he spoke, her annoyed expression slowly morphing into one of confusion. Of all things she expected to hear from this loser, it wasn’t whatever he was spouting. Did he intend to threaten her with what he was saying? She wasn’t exactly sure, but it was irritating to hear him ramble on about rather morbid hypothetical.

Instead of fully paying attention to what he was saying, she tried to think up a response while he was still speaking. She wouldn’t be caught dead stunned to silence by Jason Dean of all people. She tossed her hair back and scoffed, her nose scrunching up in disgust as he grinned at her. God, he was unsettling. Smiling like some psychopath after talking about literal body horror.

“Seriously? Is that your idea of a threat? Talking about what could happen if my hair were to catch on fire? If the ingredients of my makeup were sulfuric acid? News flash- neither of those things are gonna happen. You act like foundation is combustible and curling irons get hotter than the god-damned sun. This may be difficult for your.. edgy little mind to accept, but I’m not dying any soon!”

She checked her nails, flipping her hand over and picking at her cuticles.

“And for your information, I can walk better in heels than you probably can in your dirty ass boots. Seriously, I’m sober, and you’re.. on cocaine or some bullshit like that. Didn’t they ever warn you against that in middle school? So, who’s really gonna die from an unfortunate fall?”

She suddenly shoved him back, already sick of his height over her. Maybe falling on his ass would wipe that smirk off of his face!

“Though.. I doubt your death will be an accident, you depressed fucking loser. You’ll probably down a bottle of pills or something, and.. nobody will give a shit.”

asteroidthatsoverdue

(TW: References to pills, suicidal ideation, and depersonalization!)

J.D. notices the way Heather’s annoyance slowly turns into confusion the longer he spoke to her. He couldn’t really say he understood what there was to be confused about exactly. He was merely discussing the myriad of trials and tribulations of the beauty standard holding them all prisoner and how it could be her own undoing eventually.

He often thought about that. All the ways the human body could turn up broken, mutilated, or wrong in the pursuit of looking more presentable to other, more judgmental eyes. He assumed everyone else thought the same too, they just lied to themselves about it. Thus why society struggles with eating disorders and invented hair dye, makeup, and plastic surgery among other things to look more like their most desired self. Though he wasn’t like most other people really when it came to expressing how he felt on the inside…

“Death comes for us all eventually, Heather. As soon as we’re born we start dying. I bet if you ever payed attention in biology class you would know that. Funny seeing as you say you’re not dying anytime soon yet you’re actually dying right now as we speak. Death isn’t something to be avoided, it’s an inevitability of our existence on this planet. Dying prematurely before you reach your older, decaying state wrinkling in the retirement home just speeds up the process.”

He waves at her mockingly. “Can’t wait for the future grandkids to wave at their Gram as they wheel her off the cliff if you follow…”

“You know, accidents happen all the time. Cars crash, houses burn down and flood. Sometimes you have to wonder what will cause the great fall of Heather Chandler…”

As Heather pushed him, he felt a painful sensation in his ribs as he fell, worsening the impact if that was even possible somehow. She likely didn’t know that would cause a worse reaction in him than most and definitely wouldn’t care to know. He winced and groaned as he stood up, still holding his rib as if it was a fragile thing in need of protection from the almighty bitch standing before him. He knew he probably should go to the nurse’s office right about now but he knew he couldn’t go without judgement. Besides, he was fine. Sort of. The pain in his head worse than the pain effecting his insides. This was just how it was, always being pushed down by others one way or another. His old man, the school faculty, his classmates, Heather Chandler too. When will it ever end with humanity?

Now would his death be an accident was a question that he had considered many times throughout his already dreadfully long lifespan. He wasn’t on drugs anymore. Not the ones his shrink had prescribed to keep him complacent and quiet at least. When the adults don’t understand the youth they try to snuff them out and bend them to their whims. He barely felt anything at all as it was and now they were trying to make him feel even less than before? It’s not hard to see why those pills went down the drain as did his hope for a better world. He can still hear the gurgling sound the sink made when it happened, as well as he can remember anything when his mind enters that unclear and foggy state where he does things he can’t take back most often. He knows he made the right call, but sometimes he does think back to that night and wonder why he didn’t just take the whole bottle instead of chucking it out. Unburden his load and find peace for himself. When he goes out he wants it to be on his own terms, not the terms of a society that doesn’t care for him.

But alas, that wasn’t where he stood. Instead he stood in a hallway of Westerberg High, fighting off the pain and disassociation for he couldn’t show weakness. He wanted to cry, he smiled instead and let out a chuckle that was half groan. It was how he coped. Everything was funny if he felt numb inside enough to laugh it off. His own existence was a joke anyway and everyone knew it. On the best of days he felt like he was living in a dream where everything around him including himself was a clouded dream he could never truly wake up from or find clarity in. They all saw right through him, he might as well give them a show to entertain himself too. That is if he could still find stimulation in the world…

“Was it good for you? That wasn’t even a fall, not really, more so a push. Though I commend your strength and valiant effort. Trying to push some sense into me? Is that what we’re doing now? Nice. I appreciate it. But, the pain kinda sucks for me…”

lunchonmonday

Heather stared down at J.D. on the ground, waiting for him to stand up. She frowned condescendingly and tilted her head as she put her hands on her hips. Had she really managed to push him over? She wasn’t complaining of course, but the fact that she’d managed to knock down the same guy who’d beat Kurt and Ram in a fight was an amusing thought.

“Oh, boo-hoo.” Heather said condescendingly, pouting at J.D. “You’re really in that much pain because I pushed you?” She asked, her lips curving into a smirk. “I would’ve thought you’d be stronger!”

“Who would’ve thought that someone who acted oh so tough would’ve been so.. hm, fragile? Ha!” She questioned with a laugh, clearly entertained by hid suffering.

Heather frowned slightly when J.D. stood up. She stepped back ever so slightly, trying to make this freaks height over her less obvious. As he stood quietly, probably plotting her murder or something, she raised her eyebrows and checked her watch, looking back up as J.D. for a moment before looking at the time again.

“Trying to push some sense into you?” She asked, chuckling. “No, no. Honestly, I’d hope you didn’t have any. If you did, people would just have to listen to you ramble even more, and I don’t think anyone wants that.”

. . .

“It’s pathetic, honestly. Do you expect to survive Westerburg by going unnoticed? News flash; that’s not how things work here. Though, I suppose you don’t expect that, considering that bullshit you pulled in the cafeteria.” She paused, exhaling sharply.

“While I don’t care much about Veronica or what she does, I’d bet you at least pretend to. So, I’d suggest you stay away from her, before you ruin her reputation even more. I mean, everyone saw what happened. She’s lucky I didn’t crucify her. But I might, if she keeps hanging around creeps like you.”