#ft. blair.

[nisafm]

status: closed for @shapiros​​ location: blair’s house 

         with each step the pair takes, nisa starts to resent blair’s friends a little bit more. how the fuck did getting blair home safe become my burden? nisa thinks to herself; like it wasn’t a burden she willingly took on when she approached blair at wild rover. as they approach blair’s house, there’s a part of nisa that wants to dump blair on her front porch with nothing but a breezy ‘don’t drown in your own vomit.’ but nisa’s been on the receiving end of that treatment a few too many times; waking up on her bathroom floor with a lonely ache in her chest even when she can’t remember anything else from the night before. and as much as she hates herself for it, she doesn’t want blair to feel that way tomorrow morning. so instead, nisa ends up feeling remarkably out of place in the dark entryway of blair’s house. “alright, where’s your room?”

[nisafm]

location: high volume break room status: closed for @shapiros​

        it’s really fucking inconvenient how much of a mess arson makes. nisa thought this post fire cleanup would last half an hour, forty-five minutes, tops. but the clock keeps ticking on, and the store is still not clean. she quickly grows too bored to continue, and slips into the break room the second she thinks no one’s looking. clearly, she wasn’t the only one less than enthusiastic about the task, as blair’s already sat smoking in the break room. nisa doesn’t say anything at first, taking a seat at the table, but when she realizes she’s already read all the magazines there while she’s avoiding her actual job, she breaks the silence. “so which one of us do you think’s going to get like, killed because of all this shit first?” her tone is a bit blase, but she hardly knew jerry, and had yet to be at the store when anything bad happened, so she felt very little urgency. “and i know you’re gonna say me. don’t say me. because i don’t mean to brag about my survival instincts,” she tosses her hair over her shoulder, “but if someone set the building i was in on fire, i’d run. so i’m lasting longer than talia.”

[sugartclking-archived]

continued from here ( @cherrygrxves )

CJ let out a dry laugh, the kind that didn't touch his eyes. He stepped forward, just enough to make her tilt her chin up to keep eye contact. "Damn, Blair," he said, his voice low and slow, the kind of calm that made his words cut sharper. "You spent four years with your little girl gang making my life hell. Called me every name in the book, shoved my lunch off the table, wrote shit on my locker. And now you're standing here mad that the 'fucking loser' glowed up into something you'd let ruin your makeup in the backseat." He took one step closer, eyes dropping to Blair's lips for a second before meeting her gaze again. "Nah, we didn't make the playoffs. But I still make more money in a week than you probably have in your savings account. And if I'm still a loser, what does it say about you that you're the one practically drooling?" CJ smiled, all teeth and no warmth. "Let me guess… You like the way I look now, but you miss the version of me you could control. Sorry to say it, princess. But that kid's long gone."