#illestfated

[darkrccm]

nathan prescott had become more or less a ghost to her. whatever relationship that was between them slowly cracked and eventually crumbled in his hands when rachel found out he was the one who had planted the drugs in her locker. having to face james amber after that meeting with principal wells was nothing short of devastating. they fought the entire way home after rachel had claimed a few things from her dorm room, preparing for a long week of misery at home. despite the arguing and accusations that flew between father and daughter, what hurt rachel most was the disappointment that james actively expressed throughout the week. drugs? i didn’t raise you like this, rachel. i don’t understand where this is coming from. you know college applications are right around the corner, what’s going on with you?”  

rachel retreated to her bedroom for the week, stewing between anger for nathan prescott who was seemingly out to ruin her life and the shame that burned hot in her face that her father was seeing her as something other than just his perfect little girl. 

when her suspension was raised rumors had flown around the school. that first day back sucked. rachel held her head up high, letting words roll off her back, continuing on with her day trying to keep up with her school work. when she returned to her room for the day she finally felt like she could breathe. tossing her backpack on the floor and falling into bed, she scrolled through social media a bit, deciding to relax a bit before starting on her homework. 

it’s then that she gets the text.

it’s long, and mostly incoherent. brows furrow as rachel tries to wrap her head around it.

it’s from nathan prescott and from what rachel can make of it, he needs to see her. the message is enough to set her uneasy, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she debates her next move.

to nate 😈: seriously? you get me suspended and suddenly you NEED to see me? fuck off.

rachel sits up from her place in bed, braid falling over one shoulder as she bites her bottom lip, glancing up at her bedroom door. she wanted answers from him; how could he do that? it was so unlike nathan to want to get her in trouble...

to nate 😈: i’m in my room if you NEED to see me but i’m still fucking pissed. 

@illestfated​ ♥ didn’t ask for a starter but got one 

[fcarsdark]

CONTINUED // @illestfated​

She still can’t believe she’s even gotten an invitation in the first place, or that she’s somehow become friendly with Victoria Chase. Even despite her fear, she’s smiling, yet there’s an air of trepidation. 

Ashley releases a squeak as Victoria pokes at her sides, giggling as she grabs her wrists before she even has the chance to retaliate.   ❝I mean....no, not exactly,❞ she says hesitantly. If she tells Victoria she still sleeps with a nightlight because she’s still afraid of the dark at 18 years old, that might as well be social suicide, but she doesn’t have to do that. Ashley’s about at good at lying as Pinnochio, so she decides to downplay it instead.  ❝Just not a huge fan of dark, spooky places, that’s all. I’ll go if you promise not to run ahead and leave me alone.❞ 

She probably still sounds pathetic, but that’s much better than admitting she still uses a nightlight at her age. ❝Let me grab my dab pen from my room. Could we also pick up some gluten-free marshmallows on the way?❞

[mvncesa]

Sam had never been one to drink all that often. Most people in the small town could have taken one look at her and told you the same exact thing. Like most high schoolers that attended the occasional party, she had drank before. There were times that she would drink outside of parties, too. She just didn’t do it a lot. Mrs. Myers was not pleased that her daughter drank in any sort of capacity but she could at least rest assured that Sam knew her limits. (As if she drank more than one or two cups of whatever alcohol that parties had to begin with). Plus the fact that Nathan always seemed to be aware of when she had enough to drink, too. 

The sounds of party-goers and the bass of the music on the first floor was, thankfully, muffled for the time being. Not enough to help the sudden migraine pressing against the base of her school, though. Sam was not sure if she had sought out the quietest room that she could find- In all honest, she did not remember how she had even gotten there. Her thoughts were too jumbled and unfocused to piece together. Was that something that people who went to parties experienced a lot? Being curled up in the corner of the upstairs bathroom, feeling like absolute shit and not being able to think straight?

The sound of the door to the bathroom almost made her jump. ‘Almost’ because there was a small jerk in response, but it was slow and the action came a second too long after the sound. She managed to glance upward to see who was standing in the doorway and, if she had enough energy to think, than she would have probably thanked whatever god that it was Nathan standing there. 

“I don’t feel good-” The words were soft, almost slurred together. It felt like it was impossible to keep her eyes open, head slightly lolling to the side. The only thing that seemed to keep Sam propped up was the wall that she was leaning against. Dark eyes blinked slowly up at Nathan, a small frown settling across the brunette’s features. “I want to go home.” Her voice sounded small. Almost frightened. There was an almost choked up sound to it as if she was on the verge of tears. Crying when she was too stressed or felt like shit did seem like a Samantha thing to do, did it not? / @illestfated​

[bittersung]

perhaps it was kind of stupid to plan for a halloween party where the only inhabitants were going to be her usual crew of friends but mae seemed so damn excited at the thought that bea didn’t have the heart to point it out. so instead the brunette sat next to mae borowski, old (and new?) best friend at the diner contemplating ideas over a half decent pizza. 

“uh, i don’t think a haunted house is a good idea. it’s literally just gonna be us and like, gregg and angus. maybe germ. whose going to work the haunted house? just us two?” bea points out, chin in her hand as she silently watched the other crossing out haunted house in a notebook. “we got to think a little smaller. in a few weeks we can drive out to the halloween store an hour away but having a plan before we get there would probably be the best idea.”

bea moves and folds a greasy piece of pizza and puts the end in her mouth. she chews on the slice thoughtfully before putting it back down onto the round silver pan. “we can maaaaayyyybe keep the haunted house theme but we can’t like, go crazy. don’t forget we’re on a budget. we could probably afford a few of those stupid like shiny fake paintings you put on the wall that make the face change when you walk by it.” 

@illestfated ♥ didn’t ask for a starter but got one

[darkrccm]

“don’t mind them,” rachel speaks nonchalantly, pen scratching the beginnings of a sketch into her notebook paper. the room is otherwise silent as the only two inhabitants of detention that day listened to the traffic of other students relieved that the school day has ended. out of the corner of her eye she could see victoria and her croonies lingering by the door, making some snide comments about rachel and the new student. 

“victoria will spread any rumor faster than a wildfire,” she frowns down at the initial drawing, a deer and not a very good one at that. “so the second word got around that you had been to jail, well, your reputation at blackwell kind of tanked.”

hazel eyes flicker over to the other who sat a few desks ahead of her. she gives him a small smile. “i wouldn’t worry about it though, rumors burn bright and fast and not everyone will think it’s true.”

she stretches her arms out in front of her like a feline, hands grabbing the edge of her desk and leaning forward. her appearance in detention was out of the ordinary but, like jonas, rumors seemed to follow wherever she went. when principal wells confronted her about a concerned classmate and her connections with one frank bowers, she had snapped. cursed at him. this time it cost her a day in detention. the only blessing this day seemed to bring was that it was ms. grant’s turn in detention rotation. trusting rachel amber, ms. grant didn’t feel bad stepping away to grab coffee from the teachers lounge and to take a bathroom break. 

“my name’s rachel. you’re jonas, right? how’s your first week been?”

@illestfated​ ♥ didn’t ask for a starter but got one anyway

[darkrccm]

@illestfated​ asked ... ❛        what    are    we?      ❜ from jonas bc... duh 

rachel’s knee-jerk reaction is to make a joke. she wants to say that he was her plug to the inside, the right hand man to some infamous reign they held of drugs over blackwell academy and laugh about the absurdity of it. but when rachel looks up and meets his gaze her face flushes. he’s being genuine and she can’t find it in her to deny him an answer. rachel breaks her eyes away from him to stare at the ocean, watching the waves crash down violently against the sand.

they had been on a handful of dates now, more than she could say she’s had with anyone else -- especially not in such a short amount of time. jonas was different and she knew that it sounded stupid to say out loud, like some cliche trope that meant nothing more than momentary infatuation but as their time together continued rachel had no interest in anyone else. it was impossible to explain but it was that kind of feeling that rachel only saw in movies, dramatized in plays and at her family dinner table.

“seeing as we’ve been on quite a few dates,” rachel starts off slowly, hazel eyes returning and locked on his. “aaaaand i like how i feel when you have your hands on my waist, or your arm draped over my shoulder...”

she takes his hand in hers, resting it on the center console with a smile creeping onto the edge of her lips. “and i like how you make me laugh, how we can sing neil diamond and not care how bad we sound. not to mention how you simply keep allowing me to pop all these cherries of yours...” rachel hums, gently squeezing his hand. “i guess i was kind of hoping you’d be my boyfriend at this point, but i understand if you don’t want to mix business with pleasure.”

her joke makes her crack a small grin as she waits for him to answer. her face is a slight shade of red by now and despite it being almost three am, she knows he can tell in the light of the moon. it was late november, thanksgiving vacation was around the corner and while rachel wished they could sit on the hood of his car to watch the waves roll and crash and she could teach him more about the constellations, sitting inside with the heat on and music gently playing in the background satisfied her. seemingly, it didn’t matter what they ended up doing. rachel was content so long as she was with him. 

[fcarsdark]

 CONTINUED // @illestfated​ 

Despite her desire to I-told-you-so Victoria, Ashley knows now really isn’t the time - even though she’s in an inebriated state as well, she needs to get her friend out of there, fast. She’s had enough panic attacks in her lifetime to know one when she sees one. ❝Okay. It’s okay,❞ she reassures, gently placing an arm around Victoria to guide her outside, grateful for the people allowing them to find a path out. 

The cold air hits her, providing a nice contrast to the musky party air. In all honesty, Ashley probably needed some fresh air herself. ❝Are you okay?❞ she inquires gently,  leaning against a wall. No, dummy, of course she’s not okay, she looks like she just got dumped on an episode of The Bachelor. ❝I can take you home, if you need to go,❞ she drawls. Yes-no questions, Ashley remembers. ❝Do you need to go somewhere else?❞ 

[judesowndaughter]

| continued from here |      Condensation clings to fluorescent lights, steam flooding the bathroom ‘til it’s overcast and blurry, worse than driving during a flash fog. The headlights of a truck about to collide against her thin frame would be more welcome than the sight of Victoria Chase. No one blames girls for losing control of a car, but bodies are a different matter. Kate loses her grip even now, stone-cold sobriety no safeguard against asking Victoria.      Skin scalded red and not a stitch of makeup on, yet Victoria commands the room. Silence and steam mingle in the air, Kate unable to tear her gaze away from sharp, uncompromising green eyes. Victoria glides past Kate so smoothly that Kate mistakes herself for a ghost. The hard heel of Victoria’s palm digging into Kate’s shoulder is quick to correct her---she’s less than a specter: she’s nothing.

     When Victoria deigns to speak to her, the words sting worse than the phantom  twinge in her neck. Any semblance of strength evaporates from her body, Kate scrambling to salvage the wreckage of her resolve.  ❝  It’s not a disguise. Someone put something in my drink. I don’t even li-ike--- ❞  She squeaks, last syllable repeating like a needle on dirty vinyl. A chance at absolution rests on the precipice of one word. A truth set free before Helen buries her in the closet with the rest of the family’s skeletons.  ❝  ---like parties. ❞      Hanging as herself makes no difference; the noose will choke her all the same.      The jumble of bathroom supplies press against Kate’s chest, a comforting pressure that keeps the tears from falling on her flushed face. Hunched shoulders roll back, settle into that perfect churchgirl posture her mother beat into her.  ❝  If it had been you out there, I would have helped you. ❞  Her voice is hushed, soft. Her red-rimmed, watery eyes cradle sincerity and betrayal in equal measure.

     ❝  I still would. ❞