#havocstarters

[heathersargentvevo]

open text

[hs]: Are you going to the carnival tonight?

[hs]: Want to come over and raid my mother's liquor cabinet before?

[heathersargentvevo]

"Hello.” Her smile is wicked -- genuine, but w i c k e d .

“Thank you so much for coming,” Heather says with a slight sneer. “This really shouldn’t take too long. Just a few questions for Bellbrook’s new Culture Magazine, run by yours truly. Ready to get started?”

[leetlucaschandler-blog]

“Working at the store all day is really cutting into my social life. Ha, jokes -- I don’t have a social life.”

[arthurhyeon-blog]

He leaned against the back of his chair, feeling the rickety creak of wood and the uncomfortable feeling of the plastic pushing against his back. Normally, he wouldn’t be in an empty classroom at this hour of the day, but he hadn’t felt like enduring the pain of learning about old dead dudes who had it easy. Besides, he could always get by with a forged sick note.

 Watching the quiet of the empty classroom, Arthur bent over to pull out a book from inside the desk and half-heartedly began skimming through it. He opened to a page with a horrible squiggly shape that he couldn’t name. (He had never been fond of math and had outright refused to take Calculus). Senior year, he thought, just a few more months in this place and he was out. Made him feel all sentimental, and old. He chuckled to himself as he flipped the book shut and rose from his chair, walking toward the door─only to come face to face with someone on the other end of it. “Oops,” he said, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth, “I suppose one of us should apologize for this uncomfortable closeness, but it’s not going to be me.”

[heathersargentvevo]

               She files her nails in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the sink, so short that her feet swing down below her. She whistles a low, melodic tune. This is what she does in her free time, sit around and wait for someone to come by so she can r u i n their day. Impatient to wreak HAVOC.

              The door swings open. Heather Sargent looks up with a smirk in her eyes, but her face stays steady, and she continues to hum. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

[rileyhcyes-blog]

RILEY 📩 OPEN

Riley: I'm gonna need slushie money. Real slushie money. Like, the type of slushie money that leaves you in a beautiful blue slushie coma for a good hour as I stare into nothing.