Finish the sentence and send it to me for my museâs reaction:Â âYou are a/an ___â

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@maverickwhittaker
Finish the sentence and send it to me for my museâs reaction:Â âYou are a/an ___â
maxbronte:
  Yikes.
   This looks bad. And, in fact, it is bad, and sheâs terrified, because sheâs never blacked out from anything but alcohol consumption before. But Max is dancing with MAVERICK WHITTAKER right now, and her innate preppy white party kid instincts say that her top priority right now is maintaining friendly relations with her own kind. Maverick is one of two or three kids at Plath who remind her of her old friends, and the last thing she wants is to drive him away with this new weird baggage. So, worrying about her situation will have to wait until after she smooths this out.
   Thereâre a couple things working in her favor right now. One: Mavâs tux smells a little like pot, and sheâs going to assume that the size of his pupils isnât just their reaction to the lighting. Two: she always tends to act a little ditzy around Mav. Thereâs a chance that she can play this off like a joke. All she has to do it say somethingâŠÂ whimsical.
    â But⊠doesnât it feel like a school dance in⊠like, a Charlie Brown holiday special? â
    Sheâs looking around at the winter wonderland imagery; cutesy snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, colorful blinking menorah on the snack table and candy cane-covered garland draped along the ballroom. Itâs actually not that impressive, but sheâs going to pretend itâs ENCHANTING.              â Formals at my old school were never thisâŠÂ wholesome. â
   To recap: two boys got into a fistfight tonight, someone spiked the punch bowl with enough hard liquor to get the student body plastered after three cups a head, and there was some kind of drug carnival in the bathroom just moments ago. But Max hasnât been quite coherent enough to notice any of this, so when she says this is âwholesome,â she doesnât realize sheâs making her old school sound like Degrassi High. Â
After answering Maxâs question, it seemed as if she came back to life. Her eyes regained a sparkle, a hint of glow back on her cheeks. It wasnât that before she wasnât beautiful --hell, she was Max Bronte. But something had been off. Maybe he was too high after all. Oops. To be honest, Maverick should have been really taking in this moment, getting to dance with her. Instead he was worrying about petty bullshit and the possible chance of hallucinating Max into a weird zombie.Â
Though, he was still confused, the tone as if she were actually plating dumb. That wasnât something Mav was used to, but he went with it anyhow. âUh yeah?â It came out more like a question. Cool. âWhat do mean by wholesome? Because this entire school is pretty whacko, you know? Even me.â Maverick laughed at his shitty joke, scrunching his nose as he took Max by the hand, twirling her around as the song came to itâs chorus.Â
He brought her back close, moving a couple strands of hair away from her face. âI bet youâve heard you look great tonight,â Mav complimented without much shame at all. âWhoâs the lucky guy you get to take winter formal photos with?â
violentvalentina:
âDance with me?â
âArenât you a staff member? Isnât that like, wildly inappropriate or something?â
maxbronte:
   Dolling herself up is usually therapeutic. Maybe when sheâs so used to being told how ugly her soul is, an effort to make herself feel pretty is a form of self care. But tonight, itâs more a form of denial. Max conceals the dark circles under her eyes in the mirror and thinks, that canât be me, because sleepless nights donât happen to people like me. Sheâs adjusting her dress and hairpiece in the mirror and she thinks, that canât be me, because Iâm not going to the dance. Sheâs staring at her whole self in the mirror and thinks, that canât be me, because Iâm all the way over here. All of these thoughts pile up until she believes them: thatâs not me & Iâm not here & this isnât happening.Â
          ( Autopilot engages. )
   Her mindless functions take her to a dance in a little old dress that she doesnât fill it out the way she did two Christmases ago, but the velvet still feels lovely, and when she moves it makes her body look iridescent like a flighty hummingbird. For an empty vessel, she navigates the ballroom like an expert. Maybe her muscles are so used to years of school dances, the rhythm comes automatically.Â
   Sheâs so entranced, she canât figure out which ballroom sheâs in with all of the decorations in the way. Did she take up Mitchâs invitation to the holiday dance at that public school tonight? Did she take up Jimmyâs offer to go to the Winter Formal with him tonight? What exactly is tonight? Sheâs nominated to be the queen? Is she⊠Is she still at the homecoming dance at Port Hooper High School?
          ( Autopilot disengages. )
   She couldnât tell you who sheâs dancing with or how she got here, but right now sheâs looking up at whoeverâs guiding her across the dance floor and she asks, in such a shameful whisper,Â
          â âWhat school is this? â
Maverick had stayed away from the punch this time around, too many staff eyeballs watching his every move. He was on probation, he had to stay out of view of their judgement filled orbs. But that didnât stop him from smoking a joint in the bathroom with Fletcher and Lennon, and it certainly didnât stop him from taking a couple complimentary lines of white powdery goodness from Olivia, since she was willing to share with him. For the first time since his trial, Mav was back wearing a suit, the itchy and completely not on trend ankle bracelet making an appearance every time he sat down. Slacks fucked you up --they were long enough when you stood, a bit too short when you sat down.Â
But then he got a little hungry from the high, taking himself from a table to the snacks, a brownie finding itâs way into his mouth. Tap tap, a familiar, pretty face of Max Bronte got his attention by tapping him on the shoulder. Turning, Mav got a whole view of Max and she looked stunning. The only question he had was why she looked so vacant? But when she asked to dance, he didnât say no, leading her to the dance floor and spinning her around once before bringing her back to his body.Â
â--Um.â At her question, Maverick was confused. He looked around the two of them, narrowing his eyes a little. âThis is Plath?â
andie-hardesty:
âItâs a dance, right? So lets get dancing. What do ya say?â
âChallenge accepted,â Maverick practically whistled as he adjusted his tie. âIâm the sprinkler champion. Have a trophy and everything. You better watch out.â
you chug a fifth of alcohol by yourself & everyone around you is too busy cheering to wonder how empty you had to be in order to do it
This fucked me up (via perfectstormrising)
hollisripley:
âGod, I am having the worst case of chub rub right now. Literally my thighs are on fire. And all in the name of beauty, which Iâm not sure is even worth it anymore. I shouldâve showed up in a jumpsuit like that girl over there, sheâs got brains.â
Maverick overheard the brunette, all but choking on his drink as her words filled his ears. âExcuse me,â he interrupted, setting his drink on the table beside him and shoving his hands in his pockets out of habit. Mav never knew what to do with them, sometimes proving to be a nuisance. âYou look beautiful and even the words chub rub coming out of your mouth doesnât diminish that.â
ivyxsinclair:
âAh, definitely not excited for that life after high school. Struggling college student living off of ramen. Sounds appealing but not so appealing.âÂ
âIt doesnât sound appealing at all,â Maverick countered with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. âIt sounds like hell but we have to get through it. Itâs just the nature of the beast these days. Hate our lives for four years due to struggling and crippling broke-ness, only to receive our degrees and not be able to find work because they only hire people with experience. So we end up managing a retail store while trying to get into grad school and/or work in our field until someone takes a chance on us.â
lilianacarter:
âTrust me, I heard you incorrectly, so what you actually said is indeed very different.â Her eyes flicked down to his ankle very briefly before meeting his eyes once more. âHow can I help you then Maverick?â
Alright, so he may have told a student that he was âon fucking house arrestâ but that was truly it. Refraining from rolling his eyes disrespectfully, Maverick sighed and took a couple steps to the teacherâs desk. âI need help on the assignment. I missed a couple of classes last week because of my counseling session and then a meeting with my parole officer and I thought maybe youâd be able to go over the material with me again? Or maybe just a refresher? Because I get the last half of it, what I was here for. The first half? Iâm drawing blanks and Iâd like to get a good grade.â
saving-rivera:
The young brunetteâs eyes widened slightly at that, not having expected any murderers to be there as well. Then again she knew little about the school in the first place, seeing as sheâd done little research before running away to itâand it was the only place to accept her. She sighed, knowing he was going to continue talking about how cold it was. âAlright, iâll go inside.â She said getting up, looking over at him.
He hadnât meant to scare her, but those were just the logistics of living on a campus that accepted troubled teens are their students. There were people like him, accidental murderers. But there were real ones, ones who were literally trying to hold back the urge to do it again. Of course, there werenât people who killed people on campus, mainly drug addicts and depression cases, but really, it wasnât safe to just lay in the soggy grass late at night. âI mean, choice is yours,â Maverick finally shrugged, turning again and heading to the dormâs double doors.Â
faefml:
â Okay but if the holidays werenât coming up, Iâm sure Iâd be having a mental breakdown at some point this month, you know what I mean?  Granted, in general, Christmas time sucks too. Far too busyâ and the amount of children I hear talking about Santa, and the amount of times I have to just suppress the urge to ruin their dreams is ridiculous⊠But the no school part⊠that part is pretty cool. â
Maverick tried to follow the connection between each of her topics. It was insane how different people thought. So her nodded along, processing her questions and syllables, becoming mesmerized with her speech. It prompted him to talk as well, a half smile tugging at his mouth. âI get the Christmas thing. Like, my familyâs sure as shit not going to visit and Iâm not technically allowed to leave campus to thatâs shitty,â he complained with a shrug. âBut yeah the no school part? Iâm down with it. Iâve had a lot of time to find a hobby. Nothinâs come up yet but Iâm sure Iâll find it eventually. Next semesterâs grades will suffer if I find a hobby over break that Iâm jazzed about though, you know? Like shit, youâre more focused about a subject when itâs for fun.â
summer--evans:
âHowâs it going? Yeah, no, nothing to see here. Everythingâs a-okay. No need to stand around. You can move it right along.â
âAre you talking to me, dude?â Mav asked, a brow crooked in confusion. âIâm allowed to wait here right?â
barelycade:
âI just took a potato test that revealed that Iâm supposed to get married at twenty-eight which means I have five years to find someone to marry me which is⊠Weird. I donât see how the forms in which I eat my potatoes would affect when I get married.â
âYouâre twenty three?â Mav asked, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to do simple calculations in his head. âYou look so young, no offense, but seriously. --Those tests are just silly, donât take it literally. Thereâs not an actual timeline based on potato preference.â
ivyxsinclair:
âBeing bitter is an adult thing, along with drinking shit ton of coffee and with our generation, Iâm pretty certain itâs somewhat okay to live with your parents. But in your caseâŠyeah, if you canât leave the house.â
âThe house is just a shit metaphor for Plath campus, but yeah I get it. Right though? About living with your parents. My sister just moved home from college and it perfectly fine living in her old bedroom waiting to land a job. She aspires to have a nice apartment in Seattle but those things are pretty expensive for a lowly millennials.â
lilianacarter:
âUh, please do repeat that again, what I think I heardâŠwell, letâs just say I am hoping I didnât.â
âI can repeat it for you but itâs not going to be any different,â Maverick replied, leaning down to lift up the hem of his jeans. It revealed the thing that kept him on the path to goodness, his ankle bracelet that beeped wildly when he crossed the ridiculously strict barrier outlined by his parole officer. âIâm on house arrest.â
ivyxsinclair:
âOn a scale from, âI can sometimes make important phone calls without cryingâ to âI have a stable job with a steady income, a spouse who loves me, a dog, and two kids who are screwed up minimally at worstâ, how much of an adult are you?â
âUm, well, Iâd have to consider myself a âI know how to change my own tire, but my mom still cooks for me and folds my underwearâ adult, but thatâs because Iâm technically not allowed to leave âthe houseâ and I have to follow each and every rule given to me. I might be bitter. Thatâs a pretty adult thing to be, Iâve figured out.â
lonelyfreya:
Freya walked quietly, rubbing the sand from father time out of the corners of her eye. Another night of strange dreams left her feeling as if she never woke up, still moving within a dream world. The boy seemed to appear out of nowhere, leaving Freya to stop faster than expected. âIâm sorry,â she said quickly almost having run into him. âIâm not exactly fully awake, slower response times.â Her words were quiet and it took her a moment to replay his words in her head to make sense of them. âUh, yeah sure. What can I help you with?âÂ
Another gust of wind pushed the dollar out of any sort of reach in the process for the brunette to get out her words and boy, was Maverick disappointed. âAwe man,â he mumbled, looking to see if there was any hope that he wouldnât have to go back to his dorm for the cash he kept there. He didnât like carrying too much around, but this time he had fully forgotten his wallet. All he had were the crumpled up bills in his pants. âNever mind, but thank you. Long night or something? You look beat.â