NO RETURN ENGAGEMENTS.

indie rp blog for hannah baker of "thirteen reasons why". written by genevieve. est. april 2017. au/crossover friendly. multiverse. multiship. selective.

[mcmorialized-blog]

cassette11:

–––––  lightly tanned cheeks adopted a crimson tint as a smile budded across rosy lips, sky hues dipping down for a second split in two, a time during which he stuffed his hands into his pockets once again.  ❝  i guess we’ll be punching bags together then. i’m okay with that, definitely, if you are.  ❞ 

clay took her little brainstorm as a compliment, allowing it to fuel his ego just a small amount in order to build up his confidence just that tiny bit more. ❝  and, hey, maybe i’ll even consider that whole motivational speaking thing when college applications come around. not EVERYONE sucks, you know. just the select few that devote all of their energy to being assholes to people like us. if it helps, i think they’re just jealous of you.  ❞

to him, hannah as something more than just the average everyday teenaged girl. sure, she may have had a reputation but it was completely false. hannah baker was a GOOD person, a WONDERFUL person in fact, that much he knew for certain. they had more in common than he ever could have anticipated and, together, it felt like anything could happen. even beating those BULLIES back into their place.

     AND SOMEHOW, HERE he was, making her smile again — God, he always seemed to make that so much easier for her to do. Around him, it almost seemed as natural a response as breathing in and out; at a time in her life when it seemed that everyone around her wanted to do their utmost to make even that much seem like an IMPOSSIBILITY, it wasn’t a quality that she took for granted. It was nice, she had to admit — being able to trust someone again.

      ❝ THANKS, HELMET, YOU’RE too kind, ❞ she chuckled, though behind the amusement that flashes through her eyes, there was an unmistakably genuine gratitude there, as well. ❝ Jealousy, huh? Well, that’s a viewpoint it never would have occurred to me to consider. I don’t really know that I’ve got anything to be jealous of. ❞ Just a bundle of constantly-building rumors and endless judgment stemming from a supposedly-acclaimed title that she never even wanted: Best Ass in the Sophomore Class.  ❝ If THAT’S what it is, then they’re all very welcome to every bit of teen angst I’d rather be rid of. ❞

     PAUSING, SHE CONSIDERED him for a moment, studying closely at his features as though she’d never really gotten a good look before. After a moment, though, a smile meandered onto her face once more and she concluded, ❝ I’m glad you don’t suck. I think my life would be boring as shit without you. ❞

[somepiecesofmyheartandsoul-deac]

I want everything with you.

– Lukas W.

[mcmorialized-blog]

pointcshoes:

I’m fine. Taylor had said those words too many times to know when they were coated with a nice fake topping. Taking a bucket, she slid it by the floor toward Hannah.

    ❛ Here, sit.  ❜

A light nod came in response, understanding what the now short haired girl meant. You just had to read between the lines, put two and two together. The haircut, the not being able to “handle her shit” effectively. It was a cry for help; not as loud as many would want it to be, but loud enough for Taylor to pick up. Taking a seat on her own bucket, Taylor gave out a sigh.

    ❛ We all handle our shit differently. Some of us fight back, some drink until they pass out, some       just–can’t deal. We’re all different. Besides, people here are kind of vicious, to be honest. I’ve       heard some stories about me and I’ve been here, what? A month? But the best thing to do is just…       either ignore them or fight and if you can’t fight back alone then, choose a sidekick, like batman       and robin. ❜

In all honesty she didn’t know where she was going with their conversation or if she even had a point. All she wanted was to help. She had heard the rumors about Hannah, they all had, and it had stirred something within her. Taylor had been on the other side of the spectrum for so long; her privileged upbringing had put her on the top of the food chain without any effort and she had hurt so many people while trying to maintain her. You know what they say; you can’t make them love you, but you can make them fear you. 

Only now, being the new girl in a place where her surname meant nothing, did Taylor realize the things she had done, the damage she had done. Perhaps helping Hannah was a way of attempting redemption, or simply her trying to make a friend, a real friend.

   ❛ What I’m trying to say is– if you want someone to kick their asses, I can do that. In a very       stylized, ballet sort of way, but I can do that. ❜

     PERHAPS THERE WAS something to be said for talking over such serious topics in a supply closet, of all places. Hannah had been skeptical at first, but now she had to admit, there was something oddly comforting about the peace and quiet that their change of setting offered. True, it was a bit dark and cramped in here, but she’d never been one to be intimidated by enclosed spaces; if anything, it just gave her a feeling of privacy, like she was back at home, sitting in her bedroom with the lights off. She remembered the days of gossip and girl talk all too fondly — it was nice to have that feeling back, if only for a moment, and even if it were under such awful circumstances.

     TAKING THE SEAT that Taylor had fashioned for her out of an overturned bucket, Hannah sighed and laced her fingers together, cradling her hands gingerly in her lap. As her companion spoke, she did her best to maintain eye contact, but at times, the subject matter overwhelmed her so greatly that all she could do was simply glance down at her knuckles, studying each line and crevice of her hand with great care.

     HER ADVICE WAS thoughtful enough, Hannah supposed, but she had to question the statement regarding finding a ‘ sidekick ’ to face the difficult times with. Perhaps at one time, long ago, before she’d started viewing the world through such a jaded lens, she would have been willing to believe in that idea. But she’d found so many sidekicks over the years who had hurt her, hadn’t she? It just seemed to be her lot in life, especially since beginning her time at Liberty High.

     NO HIGH SCHOOLER ever wants to admit that they don’t have any friends. Though what had happened to Hannah over the past few months seemed to be common knowledge in the hallways at her school, she still found herself reluctant to voice it all aloud; something about that made it all too real, gave those troubling thoughts too much power. Avoidant of the problem as ever, Hannah ducked her head the slightest bit, unsure of what to do next.

      ❝ I’LL BE SURE to keep that in mind, ❞ she said at last, the promise ringing hollow in her voice. ❝ Sorry if I seem a little . . . distracted or something, by the way. It’s just — it’s a little weird for me, all this. Talking it out. This is the first time I’ve talked about it with anyone else. I’m not even really sure what to say. ❞

     ALLOWING HERSELF TO expel a sigh, she lifted her head at last, tilting it at a thoughtful angle and giving herself just a few moments in silence to mull over Taylor’s words. When it seemed as if an eternity had passed in silence, she finally concluded, ❝ Hah. Thanks. No ass-kicking necessary, though, as far as I can tell. I honestly just want the drama to stop. It’s like everything is just going too fast for me. Too much all at once. I just want it to stop. ❞

[mcmorialized-blog]

&&. lyric-based starter call!

     [Hey, guys! So, I’ve been kind of m.i.a. for the past couple days because my show opened this weekend and I’ve been EXHAUSTED. But I have the evening off tonight and ALL DAY tomorrow to write, and I’m really feeling my Hannah muse! So hit that like button for a lyric-based starter! ( probably from something musical theatre because i’m a geek lmao ) ]

[fancied-another-meme]

↖Slow as fuck with replies but does it anyway . . . eventually . . .

[books-n-quotes]

There’s some people in this world who you can just love and love and love no matter what.

John Green, An Abundance of Katherines (via books-n-quotes)

[andasweetmustang-deactivated201]

“Was Shakespeare gay?”

a school meme // @mcmorialized

      tony burst out laughing; good thing they were at the cafeteria and not in the library– he’d get the two of them thrown out as soon as he opened his mouth. 

              “ i don’t know. first time i’m hearing about this. shouldn’t you know this stuff?? you’re the one that reads books and shit. i mean i read, too but like– you know. whatever. that’s a fact that’s worth checking out because imagine if he was, that would be cool as hell.” 

[memesgaloor]

How am I doing with my character?

Send in your constructive criticism, your tips, your unfiltered opinion! Words of love, words of critique, so long as it’s not blind hatred!

[leia-organa]

[mcmorialized-blog]

❛ hope softens the rough edge of every promise. ❜

A SOFTER WORLD | accepting.

     THERE WAS A time when Tony Padilla’s waxing philosophical would have brought a smile to Hannah’s face. She considered him a friend— perhaps they’d never been particularly close, but he was one of the only people at Liberty High who didn’t leer at her body, hungry for an opportunity to look and judge, one of the only people who provided her a listening ear and wasn’t afraid of what everyone else called her ‘ drama. ’ Maybe it was just that he’d taken pity on her, unable to believe that anyone’s life could possibly be as bad as she’d made it out to be; maybe he did truly care after all. She supposed she never really would know now.

     MUCH AS SHE wants to will herself to believe in what he’s saying— and WHY has he said it, anyway? Does he know? Does he suspect what she’s been planning in her head all this time?— her mind is unwilling to process it, her heart too tired, too broken to care. She’s tired of being lifted up, constantly HOPING, constantly waiting for something to change, only to have her expectations dashed the very instant she starts feeling better.

     AS FAR AS Hannah Baker is concerned, her mind is made up about what needs to be done.

❝ YOU ALWAYS SOUND just like a Hallmark card, did you know that?❞ At last, a smile makes its way onto the corners of her mouth, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The laugh that punctuates her sentence is hollow, and she wonders if he can hear it. Probably so; he’s always been the observant type. For a moment, she wonders if she WANTS him to hear it. In spite of what she’s feeling, does she still secretly want someone to notice, someone to reach out and stop it?❝ It’s truly a gift.❞

     A SUDDEN NERVOUSNESS seizes her and she takes a deep, shaky breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to do. She’s known all along that this day would come; she’s mulled it over in her head countless times, planned out everything that she’d say to keep him from getting suspicious. But now that the time has finally come, she’s racked with anxiety. Is it a sign? Maybe she shouldn’t— but no, the hesitation fades as quickly as it came upon her, and she knows it’s what she wants.

❝ I HAVE A confession,❞ she says when she’s gathered the courage.❝ I didn’t just come here to hang out. I … need you to do something for me, Tony.❞ Her voice is unmistakably somber now, her eyes wide and serious as she presents him with a shoebox, taped up and decorated with great care. ❝ Hold onto these for me, please. They’re those tapes that I made with the mic and things you lent me. Listen to them later. You’ll know what to do.❞

[mcmorialized-blog]

@shorelost | cont. from x

     FOR THE FIRST time within the past hour or so, it occurs to Hannah that she may not be entirely sober. Throughout the course of her ( admittedly short, unimpressive thus far ) high school career here in Crestmont, she’d made a point to attend parties as often as the opportunity to do so arose. Perhaps it was just that she still held onto the hope that in these massive throngs of people, undulating to the low, heavy beat of the music or laughing, cups in hand, outside on the patio, she would be able to meet some new friends. Being the new girl was hard enough already; this was her chance at a fresh start.

     IT SEEMS SHE’S already found a companion in Justin Foley, the boy her closest friend, Kat, had once loved and had now left behind. They’ve been talking on and off all night ( to Hannah’s delight, though even in her increasingly-drunken state, she’s not about to reveal too much of her elation too fast. ) Something about him INTRIGUES her, and she’s determined to find out exactly what it is.

     THE LAUGH THAT escapes her is airy, but drags a bit, and she almost flushes with embarrassment at how poorly she seems to be holding her alcohol. ❝ Sorry, ❞ says Hannah, managing to look apologetic and amused at the same time. ❝ Didn’t mean to ramble on you. I was just thinking about it, y’know? I mean, it takes a really special kind of person to be able to, like . . . bring out the good in a bad situation. I never thought I’d be able to do that here, but — now I think I kinda can. ❞

[123016123016]

[mcmorialized-blog]

labrujc:

@mcmorialized [ x ]

It was funny, tragically so, to be the witness of the unfolding of a story; to being the one living vicariously through it. She had seen them become friends, seen them use the same table every day and order the same thing. Except for Alex; he was a risk taker, she liked him. Silently, Skye would always make sure their table was always empty and worked on two hot chocolates even before they showed. Three became two and then a slap turned two into one. 

Once again, she had seen it all from the sidelines, unable to say or do anything. Because, who was she to intervene ? How could she intervene ? Most of the time her mind was occupied by her own problems. Occupied wonder if her mother was alright, if she would come home to find her covered in new bruises. Seeing the three friends happy had given her a glimpse of how her life could have been and now that too crumbled down. 

The third day she saw Hannah sit by herself, Skye decided to approach her, trying to control her almost always nonchalant attitude. Standing by her chair, the blonde cleared her throat.

        ❛ No hot chocolate today ?  ❜

     ONCE UPON A time, Monet’s had been a haven to her; in this town, where rumors ruled over the truth and everything, no matter how personal, was fair game for ammunition on the battlefield that was Liberty High, this quaint, unassuming little coffee shop had been neutral territory. Here, Hannah was in Switzerland. Hiding out, waiting with her hot chocolate in peace while the war raged around her. Staying here, staying comfortable until the fighting ended and she could descend from the mountains once again. And having company to turn to whenever she needed refuge, two friends to face the world with her, certainly hadn’t hurt.

     NOW, THOUGH, IT only felt like a prison. Suddenly, its walls seemed too tight and confining, the air too heavy and stifling. Even the more modestly-sized crowds in the morning, before it really became busy, gave her the mildest anxiety. She began to sit more rigidly in her chair than before, her jaw set tight and aching, shoulders squared and stiff. Perhaps any sensible person would just stop coming, if it made them that upset — but Hannah couldn’t bring herself to do it. There were MEMORIES here, and even if it hurt to relive them, she couldn’t abandon the ghosts of a time in her life when she’d been happiest.

     A VOICE PULLED Hannah from her reverie; grateful for the chance to be distracted from her wallowing in self-pity even for just a moment, she glanced up from where she’d been gazing intently at her steepled fingers and forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

      ❝ NOT TODAY, I’M afraid, ❞ she sighed, making a concerted effort to maintain her nonchalant, airy tone of voice. ❝ It’s, uh — it’s not really hot chocolate weather right now, anyway. ❞ There followed a long, almost uncomfortable pause, and Hannah shifted in her seat, softening just the slightest bit. It wasn’t this girl’s fault everything had gone downhill so fast, after all; no use in being cold. ❝ So, do you get a lot of people who order the same thing every day, too, or is that just me? Must be nice to have regulars. That way you always know what to fix. Never an unpleasant surprise. ❞ Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help the bitterness sneaking into her voice; the wounds were still too fresh, too deep, to be totally ignored.

[trappedangel-deactivated2017061]

excerpt from my poem, “The Truth Without the Ribbon”

[daenerya]

“I’m not going. Not now. Not ever.”

[mcmorialized-blog]

wiredprick:

@mcmorialized liked for a thing.

       he steps out of the locker room, having noticed she had barged into the boy’s locker room rather abruptly, with a baseball bat slung over his shoulder, he passes it over to one of his students, telling them to put it away for now, “you hannah?” he inquires, practically towering above the girl. “normally girls don’t barge right into the boy’s locker room like that, that takes some massive lady balls to do, but clearly something is fucking up, you doing alright? people in there givin’ you shit?”

     THE HOT STING of tears prickles at the backs of her eyes, her vision blurring as they well up and threaten to spill over. Following her previous outburst, the silence in the hall just outside the boy’s locker room is heavy and unnerving; Hannah stands with her back to the door, shoulders tense and shaking with her effort to keep her emotions in check. She’s not sure whether it’s sadness or ANGER that’s pounding through her, but she clenches her fists to keep her hands from trembling, doing her best to calm down. Steady, steady, steady.

     A VOICE FROM over her shoulder grabs her attention. Jumping, whirling around, she comes face-to-face with one of Liberty High’s many coaches who moonlight as teachers. ❝ That’s me, ❞ she says, doing her best to radiate confidence in spite of the fact that she’s suddenly embarrassed for lashing out the way she did. ❝ Yeah, sorry, I’m — I’m fine. Just the usual teen angst bullshit, I guess. ❞ She pauses, just long enough to swallow hard and chase away the thickness in her voice brought on by the tears. ❝ What else were they saying about me, before I walked in there? Alex Standall and the rest of that crowd, I mean? Not that I care. I just — I have a right to know. ❞

[mcmorialized-blog]

❛ we’re too far from help. ❜

A SOFTER WORLD | accepting.

     PARDON HER IF she’s sick of this teenage bullshit. A scoff leaves her parted lips, incredulous and disbelieving; Jessica talks about the LIST drama as if it’s more than that, as if it’s life or death, and it’s become too much for Hannah to handle. She can’t help but feel as if the two of them are walking a thin tightrope, suspended high above everything else around them, and they’re starting to wobble, and there’s no safety net waiting to catch them at the bottom— just hungry mobs of high school students, teeth bared like sharks in the water, ready for the weakest one to FALL into their midst.

     WITH A QUICK shake of her head, Hannah responds at last,❝ But we’re NOT. We’re not, Jess, and you know that. I know that you don’t trust me right now— and probably won’t for a really fucking long time— but everything can be sorted out, as long as both of us are willing to. I mean— God, don’t you know that his stupid list hurt me, too? I never ASKED for any of this to happen. You have to know that.❞