in the fucking chaos that had become his life, he had forgotten the warrior’s game was this week until their band director had reminded them at the last practice. honestly, the first day cam had had the energy to leave his apartment, and time had the audacity to move forward. on a similar note, it took cam nearly two hours to find every piece of his stupid band outfit, almost making him late to the game, getting to his spot two fucking minutes before they were set to go out, every other trumpet giving him a well-deserved stink-eye. the animosity led him to sit at the edge of their section in the bleachers, right up to where the general student population sat. right at the top, cam watched one of the knights take a nasty hit, the audience groaning. “same,” cam said in a deadpan tone, before realizing he said that pretty loudly. a little too loudly.
cerelia had been stationed at the giovanni’s set-up since the night began. the scent of italian food clung to her even now, but she guessed that was good for business. the people next to her had decided they were starving the moment she took the spot nearest to cam. “i hope he’s okay.” it’s the first thing she’s said since she got there, quiet and nervous and unsure, all of the things she usually never was while in attendance of a football game. “i hope you’re okay.” she’d called and texted, even tried to visit him a few times. she couldn’t imagine what he was going through. she didn’t want to. “i think it’s actually pretty fucking dope that you stole from the bourgeoisie, if that counts for anything. as a former rich bitch, i can guarantee you that it won’t be missed.” her eyes remained on the game for two simple reasons: she wasn’t sure she wanted to see cam’s reaction to her conversation starter, and she was completely wrapped up in the action on-field. you could take the girl out of cheer, but you couldn’t take the cheer out of the girl. “and you shouldn’t blame yourself for anything.-- WOO! GO KNIGHTS!” her sentence derailed the instant one of their running backs went flying across the field with the ball in his hands. she was on her feet as soon as she saw it, hands cupped around her mouth as she shouted. and then, y’know, she remembered what she was doing, cleared her throat, and sat down; trying to look as disinterested as possible. “i mean... yes. let’s talk.”
her mind hadn’t turned off since it happened — the most recent exposing. no matter how many times she was greeted by the sight of an email detailing a new post on daisey rutherford’s blog, she wasn’t sure she’d EVER adjust to the way it made her stomach dropped and her blood ran cold. each and every time her eyes locked on the name of another person that she loved — first honey, then alice, zar, cam, vi… JULES — was more terrifying than the last, witnessing what felt like a death sentence. but now the knowledge that it had been HER FAULT, that one of the most important people in the world to her was dragged through the mud so ruthlessly because of something SHE had done, was too much for her to process.
so she didn’t. she opted to IGNORE it entirely — the secrets she had learned, the fact that one of the people around her was the one doing this to them, the daisey rutherford case in its entirety, all of it. it was far past the curfew that had been imposed on them when she tugged her hood over her head and slipped through her front door as quietly as she could with her gaze focused at the ground. it wasn’t until she’d already collided with someone else that she even realized she wasn’t alone in the hallway.
“i’m going out, if you want to come.” she wasn’t sure what made her say it, what made her extend the offer, but now it was out in the open and she couldn’t take it back. “what are they going to do? ARREST me? yeah fucking right. the ashmont pd are nothing but a collection of useless, shit-for-brains fuckwits — which, coming from ME, is saying a lot because my best friend in the world LITERALLY thought mormons were extinct. they probably already forgot that they gave us a fucking curfew in the first place.”
it was most likely way too late for cerelia to be up and roaming the apartment building the way she was after leaving the confines of her living space. it was driving her fucking crazy, sitting there and drinking alone and losing her sanity all because of this paralyzing fear that doing literally anything else is going to lead to her brutal murder. her attention had been with her phone, absorbed in trying to find a good song to listen to during her... what was this supposed to be? a walk? whatever. point being she almost had a fucking heart attack when she ran into kiki, jumping a foot back and raising her arms into the cliche starting position for karate (spoiler: she didn’t actually know karate). “oh, cool, it’s you.” she dropped her poorly-made ruse, pulling on a smile instead.
“okay, so like, i know i’m the last person to judge anyone on their shit,” she sounded as uncertain about her credibility as anyone else would’ve been, “but are we totally sure this is a good idea?” if there was one things she’d learned during her recent downfall, it was telling someone no was the best way to make them go through with their bad decisions. she was going to avoid doing that. “cause, i mean, i’m always up for a good par-tay, and all. i’m just not sure right now is when you should do it?” coming from one of the organizers of the fucking bonfire, no less. “i'm totes not scared of the man or any shit like that. the pigs here have proven their usefulness. more like, we literally can't depend on anyone but each other to stay alive and unharmed, so maybe we shouldn't push our luck. i mean, we could always beat feet down to my apartment. i have an unholy amount of booze.”
the notification on her lockscreen sent a chill down cerelia’s spine. four unread texts from angelita. it took her an hour and a half to fucking open them, with another thirty spent building the courage to read them. she’d drafted an ungodly amount of texts to the other woman in the week since her secret had been exposed, all written and deleted before they’d left the notes app on her phone. she figured it would only do more harm than good, to reach out and check on her now, months after their friendship had burnt in the wake of cerelia’s scandal.
finally, the girl relented she spent the next ten minutes trying to find the words to respond. would an apology even cut it, at this point? was there even a point in trying to reply? what would that accomplish? it quickly became clear to her that whatever she had to say in return to this sudden outpouring of harbored emotions, she couldn’t type. within the hour, her shaking hand was knocking on the door of villa 004. it was a place she’d once been intimately familiar with, the place she’d spent celebrating halloween only a few days prior (while completely avoiding the hosts, that was). it was difficult to keep herself there, standing idly in wait, and not fucking book it down the street before someone came to greet her.
and then the barrier between her and a thousand memories was opening, not under the pretense of a night meant to distract and delve a bunch of twenty-somethings into amateur alcoholism. it was opening because she was here with a purpose, even if she didn’t... really understand what that purpose was. angel stood in front of her now, making cerelia even more unsure than she had been before. “hey. i’m sorry-- i know this isn’t what you wanted when you texted me. you, like, didn’t even want me to text back, so why would you want me to come over?” she was talking too fast, her words blending together in a breathless rush, eager to have everything said.
“but, um, shit. sorry.” okay, well, that wasn’t as grand a gesture as she’d intended for it to be. “i mean, i’m sorry for... everything, angel. i am. i’ve wanted to reach out so badly, ever since the bitch online, and i just...” her hands came up to hide her mortified expression. “i didn’t know how. but now you texted me and i saw the opportunity so i’m taking it.” a heavy sigh forced her to pause between her sentences, finally. “so could i come in, maybe? if that’s... okay?” @divineangcl
“i’m guessing this is a bad time to ask you to ride my pony too then, huh?” holden commented impishly, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt. their costumes were corresponding, standing before the girl in full head-to-toe woody. “though, i figure that’s more my line than anyone else’s, i kinda deserve a free pass. on that one and, there’s a snake in my boot, but…” his eyes lingered down to the docs on his feet. “i couldn’t fucking find the right kinda shoe for this look, so now i just… look, like military cowboy,” he mumbled, lips twisting to the side in thought as he distractedly swished the alcohol trapped within his red cup. “but anyway. you look pretty fuckin’ adorable.”
“well, technically, bullseye does belong to woody; i think that means i should be asking you if i’m allowed to ride.” her grin was instantaneous as cerelia replied, using the horse to tap his shoulder. “so what do you say, cowboy? may i?” a faux-judgmental look passed across her features as the brunette appraised his apparel with a quiet click of her tongue. “it’s not like you’re less hot, or anything-- this is just so disappointing. how’s anyone supposed to take you seriously now?” a bold statement, considering she hadn’t actually sprung for cowgirl boots, herself. if anything, maybe they looked like the fashion forward, hipster editions of their cartoon counterparts. “there’s a snake in my martens just doesn’t have the same...” her nose scrunched while she searched for the words, “... je ne sais quoi.” the compliment paid to her was enough to bring her smile to a face-aching width. “oh, i knew that, but it’s still so nice to hear.” she was only half-joking, of course. “if it’s any consolation, i’d still square dance with you. even with the tragic shoes.”
“i swear to god,” her voice was an octave or two above what it usually was, a red solo cup dangling precariously from her loose grip, “if one more guy asks if i want to ride his pony, i’m using this thing as a bat.” though it was unclear whether or not she could actually follow through, given how protective she’d been of her substitute-bullseye toy so far. “i literally can’t believe ginuwine ruined my costume.” she clutched the snout of the toy with a quiet whine of agitation, head tilting back as she scuffed a boot against the floor. “like, let me be a good little yeehaw.” only then did she realize she hadn’t left room for any real response, head tilting as she tossed a glance to the person nearest to her, with an exasperated expression before taking another drink from her cup. “i mean, y’know? at least be more creative about it, or some shit.”
in a universe where you can give people a star ratings anonymously on social media like you can do to businesses, what rating would your muse give mine?
noah, in general, didn’t mind waiting tables. he didn’t really need the money with his step-dad’s black card in his back pocket and the sticky fingers he couldn’t seem to get rid of––but he liked flirting with the single girls and charming old ladies out of their fifties.
the company wasn’t that bad either.
he grinned as he leaned over the podium, snagging a mint and popping it into his mouth. he rolled his tongue over it obnoxiously and arched his brow, “you doing anything after your shift tonight? ‘cause i think it’s about time we end this fiery passion burning between us.”
cerelia was never fully prepared for the days she had to spend working next to noah. she could never get it out of her head that he was constantly messing with her, and although some days it was easy to pick up on the oddness of all their conversations, many times the topic flew directly over her head.
today, it was pretty indecipherable whether or not she was picking up on his vibe.
the brunette didn’t even bother looking back at him at the sound of his proposal, hands busy loading abandoned plates into a plastic bin, clearing tables before the dinner rush. “noah, i’m like... definitely not a doctor, or anything, but if you have any kind of burning sensation, i’m totally not the person you should tell about it. there are so many pre-med students just wandering around campus, if you don’t feel comfortable telling your pcp. the clap is nothin’ new for them, i’m sure.”
according to the pottermore quiz, cerelia would be a gryffindor. and that genuinely shocked me to my core. and, in a lot of ways, i’m willing to bet it shocked her, too. in fact, pretty sure it shocked everyone.
cerelia rodgers was born as the second child of a family of pure-bloods. raised with the belief her lineage somehow made her better than most of the other children who would be attending hogwarts, she went into her first year begrudgingly. her parents took it as a sign that she didn’t want to attend a school with people whose abilities weren’t on-par with hers, but really, it was the exact opposite. she went in with an undeniable dread; what if, even with her family’s status, some muggle-born student was better than her? or worse– what if they all were?
her train ride was nothing but madness. she found herself stuck in a compartment with bickering siblings, arguing about everything they could find to talk about. every time there was a blessed moment of silence, that’s all it was. a moment. she was practically crawling up the walls by the time she shoved her way out of there and hunted down the first door with enough room for her. it just so happened to be empty, save for one boy: honey kennedy. she didn’t even think to ask, honestly. she just walked in and sat across from him, all angry huffs and exasperated eye rolls. the conversation was stilted, awkward, for about thirty minutes. it only took one student passing their closed door mumbling some quiet, unsure curse word (likely her first time saying anything of the sort, from the sounds of it) to break the silence. little did she know the self-isolated boy a foot away from her would soon become her best friend. little did she know that shared laughter was the start to a lifelong kinship.
cerelia couldn’t begin to describe the moment she first stepped into hogwarts, her newfound companion close by her side. a mixture of awe and fear had settled into her young mind, jaw hanging slack as she took it all in. her family had always spoken highly of it (aside from the ever-growing mudblood attendance rate), but they’d never truly done it justice. it was beautiful and haunted and oh, so magical. it felt more like home than anything she’d experienced before she got onto the train that had taken her there.
the sorting ceremony was supposed to be a mere formality. every witch and wizard she’d met in her family tree had been a slytherin. it practically ran in their genes; as magic was a natural trait in their bloodline, so too were the traits that made up the slytherin house’s best. and, in spite of her many personality differences with her family, no one had ever expected a different sorting from her. especially not cerelia herself. while she would later hear from several students that they would’ve expected her to be in ravenclaw, the initial shock she received from everyone (including many of the instructors) was sign enough that the sorting hat had somehow made a mistake when, after a full sixty-three seconds of deliberation, it spoke out the word gryffindor.
breaking the news to her parents through a letter that same week that she had, in fact, been yeeted into a different house than her brother was not fun, and neither were any of their three responses.
her patronus is an unusual one; a bat. it’s representative of her desire for honesty, her affinity for close friendships, and misunderstandings that can lead to having a (undeserved) bad reputation. her wand? redwood wood with a unicorn hair core, 10" and a half, and supple flexibility. her wand is as attached to her as she is to it– very much so. the wood it’s made of shows her character as being resilient and capable of recovering from her mistakes
also?? she causes so much trouble and has never ONCE done it on purpose. like her accidents are just fatal mishaps and everyone probably thinks she’s doing destructive shit on purpose.. like, everyone (hello, bat patronus) but when she is acting up, you can bet it’s by kiki kibler’s side. together they’re an absolutely chaotic force, rivaled only by fred and george weasley themselves
just wants to make moaning myrtle feel better. goes and talks to her every day at the same time, and believes they’re friends. she also gets so much gossip from that bitch that she knows basically everything about the girls who use that restroom lmao
girl DEFINITELY plays quidditch. i don’t even know why. one of the lessons she was most excited for was flying a broomstick, and she’s really into it now that it’s Happened. she’s a beater. she enjoys the power trip she gets from knocking other players off their brooms jschksdsd
thrives in potions, care of magical creatures, and history of magic. she struggles a lot with transfiguration, but she’s getting better. her breakthrough moment comes in a moment of excitement, when she accidentally turned her bed into a snake. sorry to her roommate, alice kibler. that was an awful way to wake up.
worst subject by far is herbology. she loves to make potions, but if she has to know how they come about? good luck. you’re screwed
electives (eventually) include: divination, muggle studies* and apparition / extra-curriculars are: magical theory, ghoul studies, and art
*muggle studies brought a lot of light into her life. as someone who was raised to hate everything muggles were (which, granted, she had no idea what that meant), it was more than enlightening to find out that the hatred her family held for muggles and muggle-born witches and wizards was all for… nothing, really. it made her feel terrible, when she found out that muggles are literally just… people. like her. aaaannnnnd this revelation eventually leads to her falling in love with a muggle-born wizard jsdhbcdk oops! cue being cast out from her family for the rest of her life! her bad! she literally never hears from anyone again. yikes !
really, cerelia is an underdog in the weirdest of ways. she’s not brave, she’s not charismatic, she doesn’t even consider herself intelligent. so imagine her surprise when she was assigned to what’s basically praised as the best sorting hogwarts has to offer. she can never quite figure out why, until she’s older.
it isn’t until she’s a teenager that cerelia realizes she’s capable, strong, and courageous. it takes her a while to find her voice, but once she has it, she knows she’ll never lose it again. she steps up to be the hero no one expected her to be, even after she’s lost everything she’s ever known. her heroism is displayed time and time again.
yeah, it takes her a while, and there’s a lot of trouble along the way, but eventually cerelia realizes there was no mistake made the night the sorting hat named her a gryffindor. she’s worthy of that title, through and through.
halloween. it’s my night to shine. i don’t even care if that’s what this question means.
43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?
um, so, fun cerelia fact: i don’t get crushes. like, i never just meet someone and feel butterflies, or anything. i could probs count all my crushes ever on two hands. but the thing is, when i do like someone, it’s after we’re fucking friends. like, deep in the friend zone. i’m a bro by the time i like a guy, i’m a sister by the time i like a girl, and i’ve definitely been embarrassing as hell by the time i realize i want to kiss them. i will have totally crushed any attraction someone could’ve felt for me by the time i see them in a romantic light because i see them as a trusted pal. maybe i cried in front of them. maybe i helped set them up with someone else. maybe i’ve geeked out about calligraphy or– god forbid– d&d. or gotten completely shitfaced in front of them. tldr; abso-fucking-lutely. every single time.
what's something you wish people at st. ettienes knew about you? what's something you wish they didn't?
i don’t want anyone to know anything about me, are you kidding? learned my lesson there. though i do wish they didn’t know what i look like. y’know. yeah, you know what that means.
alcohol– am i allowed to answer with that? no, no, i’m kidding. my best friend, cameron. he’s always there, always goofy, always the best. if i didn’t have that goober to make me laugh during some of the times he has, i literally don’t even know where i’d be right now. i mean, worse off, for sure. @camcronturner
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