yas !

multi-fandom! powerpuff girls, total drama, maybe some 6teen? who even knows?? aliasyasmine.carrd.co

[yazzberry]

new chapter of endgame (published here, ao3, and wattpad)!!

So….I'm back! I started college a while ago and it's been a lot, to say the least. I haven't had much time to write, but finishing this chapter brought me immense comfort in maintaining that connection with the things that sustained my happiness through childhood (me saying that as if I'm not still a kid lol).

That being said, I know it took me forever to get this out (and trust me, I've been dying to share this chapter with you all), but it's a really long one—so cozy up and grab a nice snack because you're gonna be here for a while.

Enjoy, mwah <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Total Drama or any of the characters, only the plot of this story. Okay? Okay.

Chapter 1, Strangers in the Night

— ꕥ —

Bridgette, for all her giddiness and excitement in reuniting with her long-distance bestie, was simply too ecstatic to drive herself.

"No seriously!" she exclaimed, "I'll crash my poor car!"

So who other than Geoff, bless his head-over-heels-in-love soul, would drop their Sunday morning plans to drive her over to Courtney's new residence.

Bridgette sighed as she admired his side profile from the passenger's seat. "You're the best boyfriend ever, you know that?"

He scoffed (and blushed), "I bet you tell all your boyfriends that."

"No, just the ones I actually like." She laced her fingers with his free hand.

"Don't I feel special. Anyways, it's nothing—in Wawanakwa, nothing is more than a 10-minute drive." Geoff shrugged as he brought her hand up to his lips and planted a sweet kiss.

Bridgette had to completely hold back her swooning, because yes, even though they had been dating for 6 months going on 7, and even though she'd been crushing on him majorly for about a year before that, the feeling of butterflies in her stomach never left her whenever she was around Geoff.

She really was a hopeless romantic.

"No, but I know you're exhausted after yesterday's party, it took a long time to clean up once everyone left. And! I know you're not an early bird. in. the. slightest."

"Bridge, don't you get it by now?" He chuckled as he shook his head.

Then Geoff, being the responsible driver that he is, waited until they reached the red light to turn and face Bridgette. It was blue on hazel, an electric spark joining the two.

"There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Bridgette leans in for a meaningful kiss when suddenly the car behind them honks to no end—sadly, the light turned green.

"My bad, yo!" Geoff yells out the window before continuing on their drive, but Bridgette never removed her hand from his, nor did the feeling of the butterflies wear off at any point the whole ride over.

— ❥ —

It was the distinct honk of Geoff's loud, vintage convertible that signaled to Courtney of her friend's arrival.

Courtney tried to remain cordial about the whole thing—I mean, really, it hasn't been that long since we've last seen each other.

But her heart played an entirely different tune, threatening to burst in excitement at the sight of Bridgette's wavy blonde mane jumping ecstatically out the car and onto her front porch. Watching it all from her room's window, Courtney rushed out and down the stairs to meet her friend out front.

Just at the opening of the front door, Bridgette launched herself onto Courtney in one of her signature bear hugs.

"COURTNEY OH MY GODDD!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE HERE IT'S JUST NOT REAL!!!" Bridgette squealed as she hugged tighter and tighter, as if trying to hold onto the moment lest it all be a cruel dream.

"I can hardly believe it myself," the brunette sighed with resignation in attempting to bottle up her excitement. "I mean one minute I'm biking down Manhattan Beach and the next I'm somewhere in the middle of Canada? Talking to you? Tell me that doesn't sound like some fever dream??"

"AAAAHH, but isn't it great??!!!!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

"Of course it is, I'm so happy you're here," Courtney sighed with gratitude, giving her a heart-wrenching smile.

Suddenly a look of remembrance flashed on Bridgette's face, "Oh my god, and look who else is here!!"

She grabbed Courtney's hand and guided her out to the front porch, where Geoff was already hopping out of his car and making his way towards them.

"MOCHA'S BACKKKK!!!" He chanted as he jogged over with his arms outstretched in a victory pose.

"You and your stupid nicknames," She chuckled as she let herself be scooped up by Geoff's overbearing embrace. "It's great to see you, Geoff!"

"Aw come on, I know you love my nicknames! No one out there better at giving them," Geoff boasted with fake pride as he fixed the backwards baseball cap on his head (a fun alternative to the cowboy hat, which God knows needed a break).

"This makes me so happy—our summer squad is back together!!" Bridgette cheered as she hugged her two favorite people close together.

"Back and better than ever, baby!" Geoff hooted as he gave Bridgette a quick peck on the cheek.

"Honestly, having you guys around makes this all so much better, I don't know what I'd do if I was completely new, I mean, you guys know how bad I can be at socializing."

Geoff winced at the thought, and Bridgette offered her friend a pitiful, sheepish smile. "Well, it may not be your strongest suit," the blonde lamented.

"Calculus? I can do. Writing a thoughtful, well-structured essay on Victorian literature? I can do. But making friends? Sue me, I guess, everyone has their Achilles' heel," Courtney pouted, clutching her hands to her face in frustration.

Why she never got the hang of being a people person like Josie or Bridgette or Geoff was simply beyond Courtney—really, she blamed her parents. I love that I have another thing to blame them for.

"That's not totally true! We're your friends!" Geoff defended.

"Well no offense to you guys, but I'd have to actually be socially inept, or the biggest bitch in the world, for you guys not to befriend me," Courtney chuckled as she crossed her arms.

Bridgette just rolled her eyes and enveloped the brunette in a side hug, "Hey, we like you for who you are, and if we can see how great you are, so will everyone else."

Bridgette always had a special talent for quieting her anxious thoughts, and reassuring Courtney to keep her from spiraling. It wasn't that Courtney was too strung out by her inability to make friends (she really didn't mind the moments spent alone nor the quiet lifestyle), but she'd be lying if she said she didn't care at all about how people perceive her. 

Truly, who doesn't care in the slightest about what others think? The day she met someone like that….

But, sometimes Courtney got a little too self-conscious; not exactly insecure, just entirely aware of the fact that people were constantly building perceptions of her that she couldn't control. And that scared her.

"Bridge is totally right," Geoff pulled her out of her thoughts with a hug on her other side, "You'll have no problems making friends, I already know Gwen, Duncan, and Heather are gonna be stoked to meet you!"

Courtney offered a smile to both of them—it made so much sense to her that they were a couple. She could never imagine them getting into a fight, or having any sort of love troubles.

"Thanks guys, sorry about the mush. I didn't mean to make this into a pity party, your friends sound cool! It'll be nice to meet them," She offered a hopeful smile—a rare sight, since she wasn't usually the hope-filled type.

At that, Geoff grinned with a devious expression, "Y'know Mocha, it's funny you mention that..."

— ❥ —

"No, no, no, and oh, did I forget to mention...no!"

"Oh Courtney, come on, you don't even have to stay the whole time! It'll be so much fun!" Bridgette pleaded to her friend before turning to Josie for support, "Come on, back me up on this!"

Josie laughed as she sauntered over from the kitchen into the living room with a bag of plantain chips and flopped onto the couch (still wrapped in plastic, they hadn't finished furnishing the house) beside her little sister.

"She's right, Courtney. This is the kind of teenage shit you need to experience," she offered as she popped a chip in her mouth.

"Don't be a traitor. I'm just not really in the mood to meet so many people and socialize," Courtney cringed at the thought before stealing a chip from Josie, in a sore attempt to sweeten her mood. "And I'm exhausted! Did I mention we got here at 3:00 AM??"

Josie snorted, knowing her sister's evasive ways of making dumb excuses.

"Court, you said yourself you wanted to meet our friends. And besides, you'll just have to do all that socializing anyway on the first day of school. At least, at Geoff's darty, you can do it at the lake! Way more fun, don't you think!!?" Bridgette clasped her hands before the brunette, standing before her and speaking in an exaggerated manner to convince her much-too-stubborn friend.

"Geoff is the guy that just left, right? Also, what the fuck is a darty?" Josie asked.

"A darty is a day party! Geoff, yes the guy that just left, always throws an end-of-summer bonfire party at his lake house—it's always so much fun and I really think Courtney's missing out if she doesn't come."

Courtney sighed, biting her lip as she looked back and forth from Bridgette's eager and expectant expression to Josie, nonchalantly eating her chips. But then Josie tossed the chips on the coffee table (also still wrapped in plastic) and sat up to meet Courtney eye-to-eye.

"You said you wanted a fresh start here, maybe this is it. Go out, explore a new side of yourself! And I won't have to worry about you because you'll be in good company," Josie said as she passed a knowing smile to Bridgette, who still had her hands tightly interlaced with her chin resting on them.

So, Courtney was done. Really she was done the second both Bridgette and her sister decided to team up on her—the former too earnest and the latter too persuasive for Courtney's personal comfort. Between the two of them, they could probably get the brunette to do anything short of murder.

She threw her head back in acceptance, "Fine! I'll go."

"YESSSS!!! Court, you won't regret it!!! Oh my god! I have to help you find an outfit!!" Bridgette exclaimed, as she excitedly rushed up the stairs into Courtney's room, eager to tear her closet apart.

Josie simply chuckled as she reached for her chips again, "Well I'm probably going to sleep early tonight since I start my shift super early tomorrow...just don't stay out too late? And don't do anything stupid."

Courtney sighed as she sank into the couch, already regretting her choice in anticipation of a stressful night, "Please, like you have to tell me that."

— ❥ —

Of course, if Courtney was actually agreeing to such insanity, she needed to go out on a run and clear her mind the best way she knew how.

Exercise diffused her anxieties, and made her feel good about herself. Others pregamed with alcohol, she pregamed with productivity (though she'd probably still need a drink or two before heading out).

It'd have to be a short run, since Bridgette was coming to pick her up at 4:00 PM, and Courtney would still need to shower and get ready. Nevertheless, a short run was still a run.

It was perfect that their new house had private entry to a hiking trail that led into the sprawling forests and mountainous terrains of Wawanakwa Falls—one of the many perks of living in a small town, where the neighborhoods were integrated with nature.

It was one of the many selling points Josie brought to Courtney when she announced that she was moving to Nowheresville, Canada. It honestly didn't take much convincing on Josie's part, since Courtney's alternative option to moving with her was to go back to their parent's house in Connecticut.

Josie could be moving to Antarctica and Courtney would still opt for that over her parents.

What are you doing, Courtney? This is the opposite of clearing your head, she thought to herself as she mentally rolled her eyes.

Determined to maintain her zen (or whatever was left of it), she let her senses wander to the scenes of nature moving around her: the subtle cracks of crestfallen leaves (one of the many signs that autumn was coming) crunching with every step; the harmonic chirps and chimes of birds above; the crispness of the forest air, a palpable chill filling her lungs with every inhale; the raging sun and clear blue sky; the rich bark of the trees, its linings displaying the carvings of time and of...a skull?

Did she see that right?

The double take she did almost caused her to trip on a fallen branch. Courtney quickly saved herself by grabbing onto a nearby trunk for support, only to find that this tree also had the carvings of the same anonymous artist, except this one had writing on it: "Punk's Not Dead", and another skull symbol.

Courtney crossed her arms in disapproval, letting out a loud exhale of frustration as she shook her head. "What kind of idiot is out here vandalizing trees?" She muttered to herself as she studied it a little more.

Then, in her peripheral vision, she noticed the slight iconography of yet another skull on another tree, this one far more detailed than the last ones—she could tell its author spent quite some time on it. It would've intrigued her more, if it wasn't so destructive to the tree itself.

She follows this path of carved trees, each one either having the same carving of the skull or some insipid writing on it, "D-Man", or, "Life Sucks And Then You Die", and other such emo sayings.

Courtney considered just turning around and going back on the trail—after all, what was she really hoping to gain from humoring this guy's vandalism with an audience? It wasn't going to lead anywhere, anyways.

So that's what she should've done...but then the slightest glint of something silver caught her eye from afar. And if Courtney had any weaknesses, it was her stubborn determination to see something through.

She found the hollow of a tree, probably stolen from a poor squirrel trying to nest there for the fall, and within it a stash of all sorts of things: Altoid tins with old joints inside, packs of cigarettes (some empty), and the silver thing in question—a lighter.

It was a custom lighter, not the cheap kind you find at a convenience store; it weighed heavy in Courtney's hand, with a sort of emotional importance, and a small inscription etched in simple lettering on the side of the lighter reading, "Take a walk on the Wild(er) side."

"Hmph," she scoffed, "so he's a stoner. That checks out."

Courtney absentmindedly put the lighter in her pocket and took a pack of cigarettes while she was there (a true guilty pleasure of hers, if ever one exists). Serves him right for leaving stuff here, and for carving into trees, she justified to herself.

Feeling that her business was done, the brunette trotted back towards the direction of her path, trying to occupy her mind with something else to distract from the fact that she soon had to walk back down and get ready for Geoff's bonfire. Oh, the horror.

She started singing to herself a bit, an old habit of hers that never really died and always came back whenever she was by herself. Recently obsessed with Fiona Apple, the lyrics to Paper Bag start fighting their way out of her mind through her voice—the perfect melody to match her serene pace.

Hunger hurts,and I want him, so bad,oh it kills,

Before getting back to the trail, she finds a slightly worn path going towards a lookout spot.

'Cause I know I'm a messhe don't wanna clean up.

Deciding that she can spare an extra 10 minutes she decides to follow it.

I've got to fall 'causethese hands are too shaky to hold,

And suddenly she's met with this amazing view of the whole town and the forests expanding far beyond it—a scene as commanding of the eye as a compass is obeying of a magnet.

Hunger hurtsbut starving works,when it costs...too much to love.

And maybe it was the scenery before her that just physically took Courtney's breath away, or the overwhelming breeze that had picked up at such a high altitude, but upon realizing that she was, in fact, not alone up there, and that she was among the presence of another, Courtney nearly felt her chest seize.

"Pretty voice. Why'd you stop singing? Paper Bag is one of my favorites."

Courtney turns to face him. Wow, his eyes.

The crystal blue quality of his eyes were the first thing to strike her about him, and Courtney found herself staring into them for much longer than she'd like to admit.

The next feature of his aspect she noticed were his piercings—his ears, a stud on his nostril, one of his eyebrows, and a flash of silver peeking out from his tongue. He also wore other forms of jewelry, some rings and chains that stood out against his black hoodie. He had very strong features: a defined jawline, deep set eyes (upon further inspection, she noticed the cerulean iris contrast greatly with the tinge of redness across his eyes, he'd obviously been smoking), prominent brows—his side profile was so defined it almost cut the scenery behind it.

But, perhaps the most distinguishable thing about him was hair; it was full around his head, straight locks with a slight wave and messy ruffle to it. From the root through most of its length, it was jet black, very striking against his pale complexion; but the tips were a bright neon green that Courtney couldn't tell whether she found off-putting or attractive.

Attractive?! Please, Courtney, get a grip.

"So you must be the tree vandal?" Courtney forced herself to say, realizing that she'd been staring at him for too long (and he noticed, too, owing to his smug disposition).

"What, this?" He threw a lazy thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the tree behind him that he was apparently working on before Courtney interrupted him. "Aww, don't worry about it. The trees don't mind." 

"In fact," and he took a couple of steps towards her, nonchalantly putting his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, "I had a real heart-to-heart with this exact tree here and, it doesn't mind."

Courtney scoffed at his condescension, "You're mocking me?"

"What? I'm totally sincere. Can't you tell by my eyes?" And he closed the distance between their faces by an uncomfortable amount, gazing directly into Courtney, "They say eyes are the window to the soul."

And while she found it hard to break eye contact with him, Courtney took an unsteady step back, trying to regain her composure, "Don't be an asshole, you're harming their ecosystems."

She crossed her arms defensively, "And with tasteless graffiti, too."

"I take it you don't like my art?"

"That's a generous label. I'd hardly put your 'art' on the same order as Monet."

"The whole point of art is that it's subjective, no?"

"Frankly, there's being subjective, and then there's just having taste."

At that he clutched a hand over his chest, feigning injury, "You're breaking my heart, babe. What made you so cold?"

She just rolls her eyes, "Don't expect me to humor your theatrics with a response...and don't call me babe."

A moment of silence passes between them. For a good minute, it was just him eyeing and studying Courtney the way she had been doing to him—and it made her immensely uncomfortable. She was willing to blurt out anything to make the moment pass: "You know Fiona Apple?"

It takes him a second to snap out of his daze and form a response, "Don't sound so surprised, does it look like I don't have taste?"

She pauses for a moment, thinking before responding, "You do that a lot—answer my questions with more questions. Why is that?"

"Just an old habit of mine I guess. Those die hard, you know," he nonchalantly sighed, tilting his head to the side as he not-so-subtly studied Courtney. But it wasn't like she wasn't doing the exact same thing to him, taking in his appearance, words, and presence as a whole.

"Well, as for the taste thing, I'm afraid that's already been established," she grimaced.

"In that I have none?" he cocked a quizzical brow in smugness.

"Precisely."

He simply scoffed at her guarded disposition and looked around, searching for a response, before focusing those teal irises back on her, "You don't like me," and he paused for a second, considering what to add, "you don't know me, but you don't like me."

And now it was her turn to feign a cheery expression. "What? No, I think we get along just fine!"

"So, why are you still here then?"

The brunette rolled her eyes at his crudeness. "Whatever, I didn't mean to barge into your smoking spot anyways. I just came for the view, but I'll be leaving now—"

"No, you stay. I'm outta here. My buzz is killed."

"How chivalrous." She scoffs as she watches him walk away. He throws a lazy hand up in the air as a goodbye, not even bothering to look back.

"To a princess like you? I've got to be," he calls out before disappearing back into the woods.

Courtney breathes a sigh of relief, feels her shoulders slouch and her arms fall from their crossed position once she confirms that he's out of sight.

"Don't call me that," she mutters more to herself than anyone else before turning back towards the view, her original reason for coming there.

Having committed the naturalistic scene to memory, she turns on her heels to leave, when a splash of color briefly catches her eye. It was the tree that he was working on—one of his usual carvings, but this time, it was a rendition of the landscape she had just spent 5 minutes staring at. As much as it pained her to say, it was a good rendition, too.

He was actually using some paint for this one, and didn't even bother to clean up his station before leaving; small bottles of paint and brushes were littered on the ground. 

Courtney considered picking the mess up and throwing it away, but she figured he'd be back for them himself.

The brunette studies the carving a little more, and while she wouldn't admit it to anyone but herself, she recognized the faintest quality of talent in the etching before her. And, with a simple hum of thought, she turns to follow the path back towards her new home.

— ♔ —

The car is almost completely silent, save for the quiet sound of Heather's finger rhythmically tapping on the driver's wheel.

The ravenette checked her phone again for the time—4:11 PM. Duncan was supposed to come out at 4, what the hell is he doing??

"Can't count on men for shit," she sighed to herself as she clicked on the FaceTime app, ready to call him.

She's interrupted, though, by a sudden rap on the passenger seat window. Slightly startled, Heather looks up to see none other than Gwen, more affectionately known to her as 'weird goth girl', standing outside her car.

"When the hell did you get here?!" She exclaimed, rolling down her window. Gwen crouched down to meet her eye level, leaning on the window sill. "I literally live a couple of houses down," she said, pointing down the row of houses to where she lived.

"So you're as pale as a ghost and creep up like one, too." She shrugged, unlocking the car doors to let her in. But just as she's about to get into the backseat, Heather remarks, "Why are you getting in the back? Do I look like an Uber driver to you??"

Gwen, visibly restraining herself from saying something snarky and mustering all the patience in the world, moved to the passenger seat door and grudgingly got in. The goth seemed to mutter something to herself, but whether or not Heather cared, she didn't question it.

"Remind me to never ask you for a ride again. I'd rather walk," she huffed, blowing some of her bangs out of her eyes.

"You honestly should—God knows you need the tan."

"I'm not that pale."

"Keep telling yourself that, maybe it'll come true!"

Gwen palms her forehead in frustration, "What the fuck is taking Duncan so long?!"

Heather starts honking her car horn nonstop, hoping to get the aforementioned boy's attention and shorten the amount of time she had to spend alone with Gwen.

It wasn't that Heather totally disliked the girl or held some sort of hatred for her—it was just admittedly too easy to pick on her at times.

A part of her also resented the fact that everyone had taken to Gwen so quickly: Geoff, despite them being polar opposites, always made a point to include her in everything; Bridgette (okay maybe this one wasn't as surprising) in the way that she'd always hang out, study, joke around with her; and Duncan. Well, he was the most shocking one of all, because he wasn't exactly the type to make a conscious effort in befriending people.

Maybe it was because of their shared emo-ness ('edgy humor', they liked to call it), or their numerous overlaps in interests, whether it be music, movies, shows, etc., but the two quickly became as thick as thieves.

Obviously, Heather had to be blind to not notice the fact that Goth-y had a major crush on the guy. It wasn't that she didn't understand the appeal (obviously Duncan was hot, but too emo for her, and frankly? An absolute dick, he was a walking red flag in most respects), but the fact that Gwen thought she had a chance? Hilarious.

Sure, he seemed to maybe, slightly, care about Gwen as a friend, but in terms of romance (which Heather wasn't sure he was even capable of anymore), she was completely far from his type—at least, based on past precedent.

"Alright, alright!! You can stop honking now, he's finally coming out!" Gwen shouted over the loud horn, her hands covering her ears.

"Hmph," Heather pouted as she glared down Duncan, who was taking his sweet time walking towards the car.

"Aww, how sweet of you girls to wait up," he said smoothly as he made his way into the backseat, the strong smell of his cologne filling up her car.

"This is the last time I do you the favor of picking you up," Heather scoffed, turning around to squint her eyes at him.

Gwen chuckled, "What took you so long anyways? It's not like you had to do your makeup or anything."

"It takes time to look this good, I'll have you know," Duncan nonchalantly sighed as made himself comfortable—his head tilted back on the headrest, man-spreading to his content.

"So who are you trying to look good for anyway?" Heather smirked at him as she put her sunglasses on and started the engine to her precious car. The smooth purr of its engine was like music to her well-adorned ears—she greatly appreciated a car well taken care of.

"Dude, everyone at school is so ran-through. I can't hook up with anyone without immediately getting into some BS drama with someone else. I need is someone new," the punk loudly complained.

"The only thing I miss about my old school was that you could kinda do whatever you wanted and not have it spread to the rest of the school within minutes," Gwen sympathized, putting her head against the window sill to feel the cool afternoon breeze against her temples, "Here, it's like living under a microscope."

"So what I'm hearing is that you're going back to Dakota tonight?" Heather inquired.

Duncan rolled his eyes in annoyance just at the thought of her, "Fuck no. I've already hooked up with her three times, she's gonna start getting attached and shit."

"Three times?! Yikes, Duncan. I've never broken the cardinal rule of getting with a hookup more than two times—unless it's an established friends-with-benefits kind of situation."

"I know, Heather, I'm not stupid. I'm avoiding her like the fucking plague tonight. I've been talking to one of her friends, though, Taylor?"

"Taylor McAuley??" Heather could hardly keep her composure, "I thought Dakota was her best friend?!"

"Beats me. She's thick as fuck, though." Duncan now seemed to be scrolling through her Instagram on his phone, "but is it really stupid of me to get with her?"

"Uhhhh," Heather thought on it for a second, "normally I'd say yes but they're seniors so they'll be leaving soon anyways. Besides, if Dakota ever finds out, she'd get way more pissed at Taylor than you. Girl code, or whatever."

"Wow, you guys are both assholes." That was all Gwen could contribute to the conversation, deciding to focus her attention on the passing scenery around them on their way to the lake.

One thing Heather and Duncan had uncannily in common was their approach (or rather, aversion) to relationships: purely for the cheap thrills, no strings attached, no messy feelings. It was just easier that way.

And frankly, it was nice for Heather to have someone to talk to so casually about sex and hook-ups. Bridgette was Ms. Relationship, she wouldn't even kiss a guy if they didn't have any verbal commitment; Geoff wasn't too much of a slut before Bridgette, but Heather knows he'd gotten with at least two of her old friends before practically marrying Bridge (come to think of it, it was probably Geoff who ruined those friendships for her, not that she really cared); Gwen mentioned a boyfriend at her old school, but it didn't sound like she was too interested in hooking up with people anyways (or if she was, she never made an effort to).

So that left Heather and Duncan to swap war stories, ask each other for advice, and set each other up with friends and mutuals so that neither of them was left high and dry.

And while Duncan was definitely an established man-whore at school, Heather was way smarter at keeping her sexual life on the down-low; that sort of reputation was always worse for girls than guys. 

People slut-shamed her enough without knowing her body count; they'd all go to town if they knew the actual number.

It's easy to hate a pretty girl, Heather sighed to herself as she admired her reflection in the side view mirror.

"Don't worry, Pasty, it's all just dumb fun," he said as he yawned, stretching his arms back above his head, before resting his hands there. "The second you decide you wanna hook up with someone, just make sure they're not like me."

"Got it."

That dry response was enough for Heather to know exactly what was going through Gwen's head, and a part of her sympathized with that sense of unrequitedness.

"So Heather, what are your plots for the night? Justin again?" Duncan asked with a sly grin, completely oblivious to the moody goth in their presence.

"Hell no. He may be hot, but he's got no personality. Which normally I wouldn't mind, but kissing him is like kissing a wall."

"Harsh!" Duncan cackled his ass off.

"No, I'm a junior now. It's time I start to aim higher—I'm thinking Jose."

"Burromuerto?"

"The one and only. Hooking up with him will be easy, but if I can get him to like me enough to take me to Homecoming, then I've got Junior and Senior Prom Queen in the bag," she stated intently, tightening her grip on the wheel with determination.

"Yeah, except...you have to get him to like you," Duncan teased, even earning a chortle from Gwen, who was still facing away from them and towards the window.

"Oh, please," she turned to smirk at him, "for me, it'll be a piece of cake."

— ༄ —

Geoff had outdone himself this time.

Almost 70% of the school had already pulled up and were vastly enjoying themselves at the lake shore; drinks were going strong, people were playing cup pong, 'beach' volleyball, chicken fights in the water. Some people had even started to hook up already, and it was only 5:07 PM.

Despite the darty's avid success, the only people he cared to share it with weren't even there. But, as if in response to his thoughts, the blond's phone starts ringing to show an incoming call from Heather.

"Where the hell are you guys?" Geoff exclaims, holding the phone close to his ear since it was hard to hear anything over the music-blasting speakers.

"Take a pill, Geoff, we're here already. I just need you to open your garage door so I can park inside. Like hell I'm leaving my car out for some drunkies to try to break into and hook up in."

And he could just barely hear Gwen's retort in the background, "You're so fucking dramatic."

"Don't worry, brah, I'm coming over right now." And he hung up the phone before hearing anything else.

He rushed over to the garage and did as he was asked; currently, only his car was sitting in there, leaving space for Heather's car and Courtney's. But both of their spaces were empty at the moment.

Geoff checked his phone again to make sure he wasn't missing any notifications from Bridgette, before sighing at finding none and pressing the button to open the garage door.

Heather smoothly drove in and parked her car, they were all out and joining him on the lake within a matter of minutes.

"Now this is a party!" Duncan exclaims as he walks up to Geoff to dab him up.

"Fuck that, this is a darty!!" The blond exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm not saying that corny ass shit," Duncan chuckles as he looks around, taking in the whole scene before him.

"Geoff! Please tell me you have some weed leftover from last night—I never got to hit it before I left," Gwen pleaded, giving him her puppy eyes.

The blond simply laughed at her desperation, "Don't worry, brah, my plug's coming later to restock me."

Satisfied with his answer, she simply looks around to see if she can find any other familiar faces.

"Wow, Geoff, this is big—even by your standards," Heather commented, crossing her arms conservatively.

"I know, right?!" He responded incredulously, "I mean, I should just host all my parties out here—we can be as loud as we fucking want! WOOOO!" He shouted victoriously, as if to demonstrate his point.

"Wait, how is Bridge not here yet?? I thought she was helping you throw this," Heather kept scoping out the place, trying to spot her bubbly friend.

Geoff's mood was watered down at the reminder of his girlfriend's absence. It may sound cheesy as fuck, but stuff really was way better whenever Bridgette was around. And the fact that she hadn't texted him in so long was just a little off-putting for him.

"Uhh, I'm sure she's on the way. She said she was getting ready with Mocha, and the two of them together is a recipe for lateness," he faked nonchalance, a hand fixing the cowboy hat atop his head.

"Mocha? You mean Courtney, the girl Bridgette mentioned yesterday?" Gwen asked, arching a brow in curiosity, to which he responded with a simple nod.

"And Bridgette wanted me to tell you that she's off limits, Duncan," he said in a serious tone, well, as serious as he could muster.

"Damn, okay. Not like that was even on my mind or anything," his hands were up in innocence, but the devilish smirk on his face said it all, "Why? Is she hot?"

Geoff knew Duncan better than most, and he could tell Bridgette's warning almost registered like a challenge in his friend's mind. It probably would've been better that Geoff had said nothing, never even planted that seed of thought in his brain.

He just rolled his eyes at Duncan, "Just don't be a dick to her, and you're good. Actually, that goes for you, too, Heather."

"What, me??? I'm not a dick!!"

A moment of silence befell them.

"Okay, you assholes! Maybe I can be mean—but I'm just honest. Everyone's so damn sensitive," the ravenette crossed her arms defensively.

"Geoff, you do realize that other than you and Bridgette, everyone else in our friend group is really unapproachable. I'm not even that rude, and people still call me intimidating," Gwen pointed out.

"That's just because you're weird and unlikable," Heather shrugged. But at the following moments of awkward silence as everyone stared her down, she simply sighed, "Sorry, it's too easy sometimes. I can't help myself."

"I don't mean to worry you guys too much about it," Geoff tried moving forward with the conversation, "To be honest, Mocha's pretty unapproachable herself. But, just...be nice guys."

"Yikes, does that mean she's a weirdo?" Heather winced, "We all know Bridgette's not above taking in strays," and, of course, she gave Gwen a wicked side eye.

Geoff really didn't understand Heather, or girls like Heather, at all sometimes. Of course, he's gotten to know Heather enough since the start of high school to know she's not a complete mean girl, but there were times where she could've fooled him. Namely, right now.

And he could never really tell when she and Gwen were on good terms; sometimes they were indifferent and other times at each other's throats—it was hard to keep up. Girls, man. Thank God Bridgette's not so hot-n-cold.

"Well, Bridgette's a good person, and a good friend to people and animals alike—lucky for you, she's not disgusted by snakes," Gwen shot back, leaving Heather with a gaping expression.

And before she could even respond with one of her usual witty retorts, Bridgette, in her usual diffusive manner, saunters over to the group, completely oblivious to whatever verbal catfight had occurred moments before.

"Babe!" Geoff breathes out a huge sigh of relief, opening up his arms, ready to scoop her into a hug.

She's more than willing to jump into them, and Geoff held onto their embrace for longer than Bridgette probably expected.

"Awwww, did someone miss me??"

"So all this hype about Latte, or whatever, and she's not even here?" Duncan asked, crossing his arms expectantly.

"What are you talking about, she's walking over right now," Bridgette laughed as she turned back around and pointed a finger to single Courtney out—though she didn't have to.

The crowds of people were naturally parting a path for Courtney as she walked directly towards them, looking as beautiful and picturesque as ever.

Geoff and Bridgette chuckled to themselves, as if sharing a secret only they were in on. 

They were used to these kinds of reactions from people whenever they introduced Courtney to them; just the 10-second delay that goes on as their brains try to process that such beauty can exist in one person.

All their friends were just staring at her, mouths gaping in surprise.

Duncan, the only one with a verbal reaction: "No fucking way."

— ❥ —

Okay, so one could be the most secure and confident person in the world, and still be shitting bricks if they were in Courtney's shoes at the moment.

Almost everyone was pausing their conversations and craning their necks to see her as she walked down the shore to where Bridgette, Geoff, and the rest of their friends were standing.

I guess they don't get too many new kids here, she thought to herself.

The bonfire was everything Bridgette described it as, and more.

"COURTNEY!!! Court!! Get over here!" Bridgette shouted at her, eagerly beckoning the brunette to pick up the pace as she made her way over.

A loose smile spreads across her face as she gives her blonde friend a knowing look.

For a moment, it was just everyone else in the group eyeing Courtney, who was trying hard not to squirm under their scrutiny.

"I'm Courtney. It's nice to meet you," and she offers a friendly wave.

The brunette first meets eyes with one of the girls—very pale skin with contrasting features, dark, almost black, eyes and jet black hair with some chunks dyed a faded, space blue. It was messily styled, her bangs sitting sparsely above her ultra-thin brows and the rest of it hanging it just above her shoulders at a grown-out-bob length. Courtney could tell from the dark berry lip gloss, silver septum piercing, and black hoodie used as a cover up over her black boyshorts, that she was very edgy—gothic.

Meanwhile, the other girl was intensely scoping Courtney out, as Courtney was her.

She's got a sharp glare, I swear it could cut right through me, she thought to herself as she took in the rest of the ravenette's appearance.

In credit to her descriptor, she had pin straight, raven black hair that just barely reached her elbow. She had very dark hazel, almost washed-out gray, eyes that oozed judgment, hidden behind a full set of well-kept lash extensions. Whereas the other girl's figure was pretty slim, this one's was toned, with very lean muscle. If Courtney had to take a guess, she'd either say this girl either did track, cheer, or dance.

"Gwen," was all the first girl said in response, before adding, "I was new last year, so, I know what you're going through."

"It's a little overwhelming, isn't it?"

Gwen merely scoffed at her, "It's basically hell for the first, hm, 3 months or so? But it gets better, I guess."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Bridgette piped in, wrapping an arm around Courtney in her usual cheery manner.

"You're sweet, Bridge, but I'm sure it'll take me some time to warm up to people. Or, at least, for people to warm up to me."

And then a third, previously silent voice joined the conversation: "Well, not if you play your cards right."

The ravenette was facing Courtney directly and outstretched a hand to rest on her shoulder, "I'm Heather. Something tells me we're going to be good friends."

Courtney slightly squints her eyes at the girl, not quite knowing what to make of her; it was clear from her gaze that Heather was a very calculated person, with intention behind every word said and action done. But honestly? So was Courtney.

Game, as they say, recognizes game. And this kind of stuff? Mind games, social politics, strategy—that, she was good at.

"Heather? Good? Oh, that's rich," Gwen chuckled to herself, earning a sheepish look from Geoff and a reproaching one from Bridgette.

Courtney also let out a slight chuckle, "For both our sakes, Heather," and she paused, giving the girl a look up and down, as she had been looking at her before, "I hope you're right."

And just for a second, Courtney could see Heather's guard falter, only slightly.

"I'm so lucky to have all my favorite girls with me!" Bridgette cheered as she clutched Gwen and Courtney's hand to her, completely oblivious to whatever was happening between the latter and Heather.

So that only left one person not yet introduced….

And, obviously, she'd noticed him walking up. How couldn't she? You don't forget someone like that, at least, not within a day of meeting them.

When she first caught sight of his green hair, Courtney stopped dead in her tracks; luckily, Bridgette didn't seem to notice and just kept on walking over to her friends. But Courtney needed a moment to compose herself and decide what she was going to do.

Well, what could she do? A) Pretend she'd never met him and be as cordial as possible, or, B) be her usual snarky self and pick up their bickering match where it left off in the woods.

Honestly, she was willing to not say anything or make a fuss about it, considering that he turned out to be one of Bridgette's good friends. After all, she really didn't mean to get off on a bad start with him—especially if they'd potentially be running in the same social circles.

"Oh! And Mocha, meet my bro, Duncan!" Geoff exclaimed, patting said friend on the back as he introduced them.

Duncan had been staring at Courtney the whole time she was there, with an expression that was very hard, even for her, to read.

"No need for the introductions, Princess and I go way back," he confidently remarked, earning puzzled expressions from the rest of the group.

"You guys know each other?" Gwen asked, drawing a finger between the two of them.

"We really don't, I don't know why he said that," Courtney rolled her eyes as she looked to the side in a sheepish manner, "And now you know my name. So don't call me Princess."

"That hurts my feelings, Princess, I thought we had a real heart-to-heart today—y'know, back at our spot," and he even had the audacity to throw in a cheeky wink at the end of his sentence.

'Our spot'?! What the hell is this guy's game? Why is he being such an ass?

"I don't understand," Bridgette said, hesitantly looking from Duncan to Courtney in complete perplexity.

"There's nothing to understand. We don't have a 'spot', we don't 'go way back', we don't know each other—plain and simple," Courtney seethed as she gave Duncan the dirtiest glare she could muster.

And Duncan, whether he picked up on Courtney's discontentment or not, was completely unfazed, returning her hostility with a lax disposition and signature smirk.

An awkward silence fell upon the group, no one quite knowing how to pivot from such a point of contention, and no one daring to. With one, notable exception.

"While you guys decide whether or not you know each other, I'm going to go have fun. This is a party, for heaven's sake." Heather scoffed as she turned on her heels, strutting away to make better use of her precious time.

Geoff let out a visible sigh at the given opportunity to diffuse the tension, "Right on! Let's party forever!!" He hooted, wrapping an arm around Duncan and Courtney alike.

The brunette merely let out a passive sigh and muttered a weak, "Yay." 

Bridgette linked her arm with Courtney's, leaning in to whisper, "Everything okay?"

She sighed, turning to her hazel-eyed friend. As off-putting as Duncan was, Courtney wasn't going to let him ruin the night. She's disliked people before, big deal. What's one more name to the list?

"Everything's perfectly fine." And with a curt nod, Courtney decided it was her turn to be the more impulsive one. "Now, let's get a drink! I need a Coke."

She grabbed Bridgette by the hand and pulled her into a playful jog towards the drinks table, barely hearing Geoff's shouts of encouragement, "YEAH, MOCHA!!"

It was about time she took a page out of Geoff's notebook. And besides, it'd be easier to forget about annoying, green-haired punks with a drink in hand.

— ❈ —

"Courtney…is so hot."

Gwen scoffed at Duncan's remark. It's not like she could disagree with him, the girl was gorgeous. Since she walked off with Bridgette, Duncan had not stopped staring at her the entire time.

Even as their conversations drifted to other topics, or as they talked to other people, Gwen couldn't help but notice that his eye would always find its way back to a certain brunette. 

She was used to Duncan always ditching her at parties to get with other girls, especially later into the night. It never bothered Gwen too much, except now it caused them to lose their previously undefeated cup pong streak.

Clearly, this was different than those other times—Duncan was keeping his distance from Courtney, which was definitely not par for the course. He was probably the most forward person Gwen knew…and maybe she could stand to learn a thing or two from him.

Anyways, why Gwen's treacherous mind forced her to focus on these things was beyond her—it's not like she was obsessively following his line of vision 24/7. But she couldn't help what she noticed; in fact, she wished she hadn't noticed these kinds of things. It'd make her life way easier, and her mind quieter.

She brushed all those thoughts away and gave Duncan a sly grin, "You really think so? I couldn't tell." He just rolled his eyes, still not taking them off Courtney.

Gwen cleared her throat, "Well, what about Taylor?"

"Who?" He scoffed.

"Taylor? You were literally just telling me and Heather about how you wanted to—"

"Who?" And this time he turned to face Gwen, giving her a deadpan expression.

Oh.

"Wow, you're forward," the goth crossed her arms in slight disapproval.

"And she's hot."

"Who, Courtney?" Heather asked as she walked up to the two of them and then gave them a bitter smile and eye roll, "That seems to be the general consensus."

"Jealous, are you?" Duncan challenged, giving her a knowing smirk.

"As if. Anyways, can you guys get over yourselves and help me out?" she scoffed, tossing her inky black hair to the side.

"Gee, since you asked so nicely," Gwen lamely rolled her eyes at her.

Completely ignoring her, Heather turned towards Duncan, "I need to start talking to Jose, like, now if I want him to be interested in me by homecoming."

Duncan and Gwen shared a similar look of dispassion, the latter crossing her arms in unwillingness.

Duncan sighed, "And how the fuck do you want me to do that?"

Heather patted an index finger on her lip, feigning thought, "Oh, I don't know—like this!"

And before Gwen could even blink, Heather pushed Duncan into the sand, making him bump into Jose—who was conveniently chatting with his friend only a couple feet away.

Gwen rolled her eyes. Here I thought she walked up to us because she wanted to talk to us.

Heather was already putting on her best performance of worry and concern, "Oh my god!! Are you okay?!" And she put a strategic hand on Jose's shoulder, "You'll have to excuse my friend, he's such a klutz."

"What the hell, Heather?!" Duncan complained as he got up from the floor, brushing the sand off his swim trunks.

"Aww, do you have a concussion? Go find Geoff." Heather couldn't get rid of him fast enough, pushing him again but this time right into Gwen, and twirling back around to focus her attention on charming Jose.

Not that it'd take a lot on her behalf; as much as Gwen hated to admit, Heather had a certain suavity when it came to flirting that made the goth just a little envious. It's not that Gwen had any direct interest in being some sort of femme fatale, but she's never known what it's like to be able to have that sort of effect on others. She was far too unsociable and off-putting for it.

"Nice friend we have, huh?" She rolled her eyes at said girl, who was laughing way too hard at whatever Jose was saying, and the consequential layer of blush covering his face was a sign of her charm at work.

"That's Heather for you," Duncan rolled his eyes, "but she's usually good about returning the favor."

"And speaking of…" He brought his palms together pleadingly. Gwen feared that she already knew where this was going…

"I need a favor from you."

Gwen only looked up at him with a cocked brow and crossed arms. Whatever was going to come out of his mouth next would probably come at the price of her contentment.

"I need you to go challenge Courtney to a chicken fight."

"What?! Why??" She shouted at him.

"Because she'll obviously say no to me! And I just want a chance to talk to her," he shrugged, beating around the bush for why he'd put in so much effort to get close to a girl when he could probably get with anyone else.

Gwen scoffed, "She's not made of stone, if you want to go talk to her, then do it yourself!!"

"It's not that easy…she just…look, if I could do that you know I wouldn't be asking you for a favor!" 

"Hello? I'm a terrible wingman! That's why you have Heather," Gwen shrieked, frankly disturbed at the thought of scoring Duncan a hookup.

"She's clearly busy right now! Come on, Pasty…"

And he did that motion of the eyes thing to Gwen again, his eyes so clear a blue that she swore she could even see her own reflection. As a cherry on top, he slouched a casual arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to whisper in her ear: "Do me a solid?"

Gwen's first instinct was to turn her face away from him, simply to hide the fact that her nose and ears were smeared an embarrassing shade of pink. So what if his proximity to her made her nervous?? 

She'd never let him know it.

The goth bit her lip as she stood in thought. She already knew what her answer was—how could she say no? She had no good reason to. 

At least, no reason that didn't involve an embarrassing confession.

Finally, Gwen let out an obnoxious sigh, "Alright! Okay! Jesus….but you owe me!"

"I knew you'd come through, you're the best!" Duncan explained as he grabbed her hand and jogged her to where Courtney was talking to Trent and Justin, Gwen leaving behind a trail of groans.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into????

When they walked up to the trio, Courtney's eyes seemed to flash with both recognition and relief at the sight of them.

"Gwen!" she exclaimed, rushing to hug the girl.

As much as it took Gwen aback, she felt herself fall easily into the role of Courtney's friend, even hugging her back. But that was probably more a response of shock than genuine affection.

Right before the brunette pulled away, she quickly whispered in Gwen's ear, "Please save me, the tall one won't stop talking and I've no idea how to get him to stop."

Laughter bubbled threateningly in Gwen's throat—she assumed Courtney was talking about Justin. Hot as he was, all sense of dreaminess and fantasy went away the second he opened his mouth…and never closed it.

Gwen never knew how his friends could stand him, like Trent, for example. Other than the fact that he played guitar and was relatively quiet, Gwen knew nothing about him. But the fact that he could stand to tolerate Justin on a daily basis told her that he had the patience of a saint.

"Courtney," Gwen began, almost forgetting the reason they'd walked up to her until Duncan had not-so-subtly elbowed her in the side. "Uhmm, I was wondering….well, we were wondering-"

Another elbow, this time to the rib.

"Nope! Just me! I was wondering if you, uhm….uh..."

Gwen kept losing her train of thought as she looked from Courtney, to Justin, to Duncan, to Trent, all dealing her puzzled expressions.

"Chicken fight?" She finally just blurted out. 

"Duncan and I against you and…" her gaze shifted to Trent, who could not look more uninterested, and then to Justin, whose eagerness could be smelled from miles away.

"Me!" Justin exclaimed before she could even finish her thought, and Gwen swore she saw Courtney's eye twitch. 

Trent, on the other hand, simply laughed out loud as he casually walked away from the train wreck.

Courtney hesitated, "Oh, I don't know…"

Justin put an arm around her, "Come on, Court, let's do it!"

Duncan cackled, seemingly at his pet name for her as well as her obvious discomfort with it, "Yeah, Court. Don't be a stick in the mud!"

"Who even says that anymore?" Gwen rolled her eyes at him. Why had she agreed to this in the first place…did she really like him that much?

The two girls shared an empathetic look with one another at whatever sad situation they'd both seemingly been roped into.

Until, a realization dawned on Courtney. 

"You know what? You guys are right, let's play." The brunette extended a hand and smug disposition towards her, "Gwen?"

It took a moment for said girl to catch on, but not as long as it took Duncan and Justin, who apprehensively followed the two girls as they walked, hand-in-hand, towards the shore.

— ꕥ —

"Okay, this isn't exactly what I had in mind!" Duncan shouted, as he struggled to balance Justin's lanky build on his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Courtney had no problem holding up Gwen's small frame, and even reveled in making competitive jabs at Duncan to throw him off even more while their teammates battled it out above the water.

It was all too funny for Bridgette to witness from afar, as she took a couple of hilarious action shots with her digital camera.

"This is definitely making it to the junior year scrapbook," she giggled to herself as she scrolled through all the prize-winning shots. She put her eye to the camera to take another nice picture of the sunset's yellow, orange, and pink before the frame was suddenly filled with tan, blonde, and blue.

"Geoff!" 

"Babe!" He picked Bridgette up and swirled her around. "Didn't I just make your shot 10 times hotter??"

She simply laughed as he ran a flirty hand through his blond, tousled waves, "How are you enjoying your party? Epic turnout, right?!"

"I guess," he lightly rolled his eyes, "but the only person I really cared about showing up was you."

Geoff touched his nose to Bridgette's nose, arms wrapped around her frame while her hands were occupied by the camera she held under her chin.

Bridgette considered sealing the deal herself and going in for a kiss, but instead she nuzzled her head into his neck and leaned into his embrace, which was more than welcomed.

She thought to herself for a moment about responding to him, only to come up with nothing. What more could she say?

Bridgette felt luckier than words could even express to have someone like Geoff in her life—someone who genuinely cared about her and was constantly thinking about her.

There were times when Bridgette felt she didn't know what to do with all this love, experiencing it in surplus. This was the kind of emotional encounter she'd only ever read about in her romance books, or seen in those movies her mom would take her to as a little girl. Where the prince swept the princess off her feet and everything was good with the world and they lived happily ever after. Period. The end.

But this was her reality. Geoff wasn't just Bridgette's dream guy—he was as real as the air she breathed, and lately, had seemed to be as intoxicating as it to.

As much as she wore her heart on her sleeve, Bridgette wasn't the overly vulnerable or codependent type. Lately, however, Geoff had her considering otherwise…

She quickly pulled away from him, "Hey, I'm gonna go check on Courtney, make sure Duncan isn't bothering her too much."

"Woah, woah, you leaving me so soon?" He whined, grabbing onto the blonde's hand as she tried to scamper away, "I feel like I've barely seen you at all today!"

"That's not true! I've seen you plenty!" She gave him a lopsided smile.

"Come onnn, let's go down to the hot tub! I specifically closed it off so we could use it!" he called to her, blue eyes beaming with hope.

"But, Courtney–"

"Look at her, Bridge. Doesn't seem like Duncan's bothering her at all—actually! She seems to be having the time of her life! Having fun! At my party! So you should do the same."

Bridgette didn't know where her hesitation was coming from as she bit her lip in thought. She blushed as she thought about the last time they were in the hot tub together; clearly, she'd enjoyed it then. So, why not now?

There was an obvious answer to follow. So she ignored the slight pit in her throat and took Geoff's hand leading her back towards the lake house.

— ✪ —

So the chicken fight may have been a failure in most respects—Duncan had Gwen to thank for conspiring against him with Courtney—but, it wasn't a complete dud.

After all, there was something to be said for the fact that he was now alone with Courtney as they both waited for Gwen and Justin to bring some towels from inside the house. 

On the one hand, this was Courtney, the girl who simply couldn't stand him and dealt him judgemental looks every possible second; but on the other hand, this was Courtney, a hot chick with an insane build wearing a tiny bikini, who had legs for days.

The only bad part about all this was that Duncan couldn't speak a word without instantly annoying her, and there was no way any of his usual pickup lines would charm her.

See, a better man might've taken the hint by now and given up—but Duncan was, well, Duncan.

"So, good game?" he offered a cheeky smile. Maybe he couldn't outright flirt with her, but he could try his hand at small-talk.

"Maybe not for you."

Rejection.

"That was a pretty devastating loss," she scoffed, crossing her arms away from him.

"Are you kidding me? That was the upset of the century!"

"Funny, I never took you for a sore loser," she lightly tapped a finger on her chin in fake thought.

"How about next time you try holding up Justin while he flails around like fish out of water—it's not easy!" He pointed out, defensively.

Courtney simply smiled at his dismay, amused at how riled up he was. "True, I mean his muscles must make up, what, 90? 95 percent of his body mass?" And that only seemed to annoy him more.

"Probably to compensate for the fact that he's got no activity going on up here," Duncan scoffed, tapping a finger to his forehead. And then Courtney laughed, and something within Duncan felt…proud? For being its source. Now that was funny.

"And hey, it's not like your partner was any better!" He added on.

"At least she was good enough to win! She may not be the strongest…like, at all, but she still got him in the water," and Courtney couldn't even finish her sentence properly without them both bursting into laughter, reminded of a less than flattering memory of Justin screaming like a prepubescent boy as he went down into the water.

It took a minute before the laughter fully subsided, and even then the two couldn't keep a straight face—even the slightest chuckle threatened a whole slew of laughter.

"You know, I'm pretty sure there's an obvious answer to this whole situation," Duncan said between laughs. 

"What?"

And he tried to keep a straighter face as he said this: "I mean, come on. Isn't it obvious? We've gotta be a team next round."

"Next round?" Courtney chuckled.

"Admit it, we'd be unstoppable."

A bit of silence fell upon the two, Courtney not quite knowing what to say. But Duncan could see the cogs turning in her mind. In fact, she didn't even need to say anything for Duncan to know what her response was—the subtle smile on her face said enough.

She opens her mouth to respond, but is interrupted by a disheveled DJ jogging up to them.

"Yo!" He shouted as approached, "What's up, Courtney?"

Said girl smiled and waved at him before he turned his attention to Duncan, "D-Man, have you been checking the group chat?"

He cocked an eyebrow before reaching into his pocket for his phone, "Uhh no. Why?"

He saw that he had 20+ unread notifications from Messages.

"There's no more alcohol, we need more for later," DJ explained.

"So? Go get some." He shrugged.

"None of us have our fakes, and none of us are good to drive," he answered, hands laced atop his durag in distress.

"Bro, didn't you only have one can of beer?"

He rubbed his eyes as he spoke, "I also popped an eddy with Harold."

At that, Duncan couldn't hold back his laughter, "Pffft, Harold? Dude—"

"He's a solid guy!" DJ puts his hands up in defense, "and anyways, I'm not getting behind a wheel right now. Mama would kill me if she ever found out!"

Courtney only gave a sympathetic look, while Duncan sighed in annoyance, "DJJJ."

"Please man! Geoff would do it but he's not answering either, and I haven't seen Bridgette in a while so, you know…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Duncan said, shaking his head dismissively, "I didn't drive here, though."

DJ's expression instantly morphed from dejection to elation, "Okay, so all you need is a driver! Perfect!"

"Don't get so excited, almost everyone Ubered."

And suddenly, Courtney interrupted their conversation with an apologetic tone, "Right, well, this sounds like my cue to leave. I hope you guys find a driver–"

Just as suddenly, a thought occurred to Duncan, and he couldn't fight the smirk growing on his face. "Wait a second, didn't you drive here?"

Courtney was taken aback by his perception, "Stalk much?"

"Bridgette hasn't been driving lately, you guys came together, you haven't had any alcohol, ergo, you drove," he stated very matter-of-factly.

"Wow, so you do have a brain!" She said in fake-surprise.

He tilted his head at her, "Oh come on, Princess. Do us a solid?"

"I don't think I should—"

DJ cut into her sentence and pleaded with his hands laced together, "Please, Courtney! I promise I'll return the favor somehow!"

The brunette thought about it a little more, seemingly stuck between a rock and a hard place. But, in the end, one side prevailed.

She threw her hands in the air in acceptance, "Fine! Jesus Christ…but only because DJ asked me to!"

Duncan smirked at her, "Whatever makes you feel better—let's go!"

And just as he grabbed Courtney's hand and walked her towards the garage, Gwen and Justin were barely approaching a now solitary DJ.

"Wait, where are they going?" Gwen asked, holding an armful of towels.

"Getting some more drinks. We ran out." DJ shrugged.

Gwen said nothing, but observed them as they walked off together. She couldn't tell whether they were arguing or laughing together—or perhaps it was a bit of both.

Justin, who'd previously been concerned with getting the perfect ruffle through his dampened hair, came to the realization that Courtney had left.

"Wait, they left!? Damn it!" He exclaimed, slapping his arm against his leg. 

"I so wanted to ask Courtney for her number!"

— ♔ —

Heather had reached her final straw. She didn't know how much longer she could talk to a guy that had absolutely nothing going on in his brain, other than an obsession with himself.

The whole party had been nothing but her smiling and nodding as Jose talked about his accomplishments, his soccer stories, his camera roll, his unlaunched music career. It's not like she was ever expecting to talk philosophy with the guy, but this…this was worse than she'd expected.

So now, Heather found herself hiding out behind a tree, far removed from the festivities happening on the shoreline. Even just a few moments of silence, where she wasn't forced to hear him speak sentence after endless sentence, proved to be healing.

Lame as it sounded, Heather enjoyed having this moment to herself. She could hear her own thoughts, and forget all the social politics that she was so prone to obsessing over.

But somehow, becoming aware of the fact that she was alone, while everyone else wasn't, icked her out. 

"Ew, I'm like weird goth girl," she muttered to herself, shaking her head as she braced herself for making a reappearance at the party.

As she was walking back towards the shore, she inadvertently stepped into the middle of what seemed to be a group hangout—Noah, Cody, Izzy, and Owen were sitting in a semi-circle, some of them lounging on tree stumps while the rest sat on the floor. The pungent stench of weed also didn't escape Heather.

"Sorry, am I interrupting your orgy?" She scoffed down at them. 

"Aww, don't be bitter, Heather! You're more than welcome to join!" Izzy exclaimed, inching closer to her.

"Drop dead!" She scoffed, as she strutted away, hearing the roars of their laughter behind her.

Heather rolled her eyes—she really didn't understand people that chose to exclude themselves from social scenes. She simply didn't believe anyone that said they didn't care what others thought of them.

They were teenagers for crying out loud—they were supposed to care! She wasn't any crazier for obsessing about social status than they were for entirely dismissing it. People could judge her for it all they wanted, but at the end of the day, she'd graduate from high school leaving a legacy behind.

Queen Bee, Cheer Captain, and soon, only girl to bag the hottest guy in school. And! Only junior to get asked to Senior Prom.

Getting there proved to be harder than she expected—Heather internally cringed at the thought of having to talk to Jose again—but she had to do what she had to do. And she was going to succeed.

"Heather!" She's pulled out her thoughts by a voice calling to her, but her face drops any sign of interest once she sees that it's just Gwen.

"What?"

"Where the fuck is everyone?" Gwen exclaimed.

"What do you mean?"

"Geoff and Bridgette have been gone for well over an hour–"

Heather scoffed, "Does that really surprise you?"

"And Duncan and Courtney haven't come back yet."

At that, Heather's interest was piqued: "Where'd they go?"

Gwen looked sheepishly to the side, clutching her elbows, "To get more drinks, but the liquor store is like 5 minutes away and they've been gone for half an hour."

Heather thought to herself for a moment—she knew Duncan was interested in her, but Courtney didn't really strike her as the type to hook up with someone so fast. Then again, she didn't really know Courtney, like, at all.

"Okay…why does any of this concern me?"

"Excuse me for expecting you to be a real friend," Gwen rolled her eyes.

Heather crossed her arms, she didn't really know what to say or do. She didn't know how to be a friend to Gwen, even if she'd wanted to. It's not like they had tons in common.

The two seemed to be predetermined enemies based solely on their archetypes: Heather was the popular girl, Gwen was the weird goth girl. The fact that they both happened to be in the same friend group was an anomaly of sorts.

Just as Heather was about to speak in a lame attempt to start a conversation, she was saved by a lovey-dovey Geoff and Bridgette making their way over.

"Yooooo!!" Geoff hollered at them, and Heather noticed a look of relief wash upon Gwen's face.

"Finally! You guys were gone so long!" Gwen exclaimed as Bridgette dove in to hug her.

"Sorry!! We just, um, got caught up," the bubbly blonde sheepishly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, you can stop there," Heather said, crossing her arms.

"Where's Duncan?" Geoff asked, looking around.

Bridgette joined him in scanning the whole party, "And where's Courtney?"

Gwen and Heather shared a look, before Gwen finally sighed.

"Well…"

— ❥ —

Courtney sighed as she looked out the window of her car. "I don't know what the point of me coming was if I wasn't going to drive."

He took a moment at the red light to look over at her, shooting her a skeptical look, "You'd really let me drive your car by myself?"

"I mean, why couldn't you just ask anyone else for their car. Heather, maybe, or Geoff. You guys are all friends, no?"

He turned back to face the road, "Eh, don't read too much into it. This was the path of least resistance."

Courtney hummed as she refocused her thoughts on the scenery outside. Of course, this little beverage run had taken longer than she'd anticipated—nothing with Duncan was ever quick and easy, because once he recognized the cashier at the convenience store, he decided that now was the time to stop and share life stories—and now, the sun had long set and those same stars Courtney admired her first night in Wawanakwa made a reappearance.

If she was being honest with herself, Courtney didn't really mind this brief respite from the whole party scene too much, it let her social battery recharge. Even though she technically wasn't alone, Duncan wasn't too demanding of any effort when she talked to him.

Then, a thought occurred to her. She turned to face him, only to find that his eyes were intently set on the road, also deep in thought.

"Hey." 

He snapped out of it. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me."

"I'm thoroughly confused," he scoffed.

"Try amnesic," she rolled her eyes.

"If you have an issue with me, Princess, you've gotta learn to use your words."

"Well, you clearly don't remember me telling you not to call me Princess," she repositioned herself to face her body towards him, "I'm talking about earlier, when you told everyone that we knew each other."

"We did know each other," he said very matter-of-factly.

"No! We didn't! One conversation in the woods does not friends make," she huffed, at which he only laughed.

"Do you normally scramble your word order when you're mad? It's cute."

"You can be so insufferable—you'll do anything but listen to what I'm saying, won't you?"

"Don't you find it more fun that way?"

Duncan turned to look at her, and for a moment, nothing was said between them as they just held onto their eye contact.

He was the one to break it: "Though, I'm honestly not even sure you understand the concept."

Courtney scoffed, "Of what?"

"Fun."

"What?! Me…fun? Of course I do!"

He said nothing, but pressed his lips together in doubt.

"What?! I can take a joke! And I can make a joke, too!" Courtney sat up now, clearly disturbed by what he was insinuating about her.

"Calm down, Dr. Suess," he shrugged his shoulders, "I just mean. it's pretty obvious that things upset you easily."

She crossed her arms and turned away from him, "Well, it's pretty obvious that you don't know me."

Duncan sighed, sitting in silence for a second, before returning to the conversation, "Fair enough—tell me one fun thing about yourself."

"Try three: I like to read, I speak four languages, and…I dance ballet."

"Boring, boring, and….boring. No wonder you're so uptight."

Courtney turned back to Duncan and scoffed at him, "See, you fail to notice that the concept of fun is completely subjective. I mean, what can you tell me that you do for fun—vandalize trees? Poke holes in your face? Yeah, neither of those things sound fun to me."

"Quite the opposite, actually, those things are the product of boredom."

"I see, so you get bored, and you take it out on the trees?"

"It's not like there's anything else to do in this shit-hole," he shrugged, "Hell, I'm almost sorry that you got stuck in the most boring place in the world."

She shifted in her seat, not knowing how to receive his sympathies. Courtney thought of what to say to break the silence, but Duncan beat her to it.

"Tell me something, you're from California, right?"

"Right."

"So, you've been to the beach, then?"

"Of course I have."

Courtney can see him pause for second, internally debating whether or not he'll give this next question clearance through his mouth. In the end, he does.

"What," and he cleared his throat, "what's that like?"

Her response was immediate: "I don't think you need me to tell you that. Are you pulling my leg again? Another joke?"

"I've never been to a beach before."

"There's no way."

"What can I say? It's a terrible thing, to be landlocked."

She didn't know what to say, and for once, Duncan's expression seemed dead serious to her. This was unknown territory for her.

"Um, I don't know, it's nice. I wouldn't normally go during the day, it's much too crowded, and hot, and overstimulating…"

She paused to look at him again, only to find Duncan with a pensive disposition. He was waiting to hear what she had to say next, and when he realized her sentence came to a stop, he turned to look at her.

"I'd usually go by myself, at night."

"Yeah, and you call me emo."

A smile made its way to her face—this was the banter she was used to, and all feelings of discomfort simply dissipated. "Shut up! It's actually really nice at night, a good spot to think about things…or, to not think about things."

That seemed to be really intriguing to him, "To forget them?"

"Maybe."

Courtney considers stopping there, leaving her answer at that. But, maybe it was the inviting breeze of the night that drawled in through her cracked-open window, or the intrinsic beauty of the natural landscape surrounding them, or maybe it was him, Duncan….whatever it was, it made Courtney keep going.

"Whenever I'd go to the beach, I've always felt that, for a moment, all that there is, ever has been, or ever will be, is the blue right in front of me." 

"Hearing the waves crash against the sand and feeling the breeze moving through me, I guess it's nice to humor that maybe I'm just like…like a small grain of sand, tugged off-shore by a wave, or a wind."

She turns to face Duncan again, to see if he'd somehow gotten bored of her blabbing—but, much to her surprise, he still seemed utterly interested in every word coming out of her mouth. 

"The water, it makes you feel small, and all your problems small, by extension. Almost like none of it even matters in the end, because the waves will always just keep flowing and the world just keeps spinning." She chuckles sheepishly to herself, "I know that all sounds stupid and way too abstract, but it's comforting sometimes. To me, at least."

Duncan says nothing for a minute, for once, at a loss for words. Or maybe, it seemed to Courtney, thinking about how to parse through his thoughts and translate them into sentences.

"What? You're not gonna argue with me on this? Don't bother going soft on me now," she scoffed.

A smile crept onto his face, "You should be glad I'm ignoring the potential to make a dirty joke right now."

"And you've ruined the moment."

He laughs to himself, and so does she.

"No, no, I just…I always used to think that feeling small," and he laughed again (he really had the humor of a middle school boy), "I used to think that was like, a bad thing."

His expression sobered just slightly before he continued, "Small is…it's weak and powerless and shit. I mean, Wawanakwa, for example, is the size of a fucking thumbtack, and living here is like being stuck under a damn microscope."

Courtney sighed, "I guess it just depends on how you look at it. 'Nothing is always absolutely so'—so says Sturgeon, so says I."

"Uhhh. What."

She waved a dismissive hand, "It's nothing, just wise words from a dead man. He also said 90% of everything is crap."

"Sounds like my kind of guy."

Courtney laughs and considers whether or not she should let this particular slip out of her mind, but she goes through with it anyway, "You know, Duncan, you're not too bad when you're not being completely insufferable."

"Funny, I was going to say the same about you, Princess."

Duncan laughed as she rolled her eyes at that stupid nickname being used, yet again.

"I just meant that I didn't think you'd be a good conversationalist."

"To set the record straight, I'm not."

"Too cool for school, yeah?"

"Okay, see, I'm not really good at this…existential shit, and no one expects me to be anyways, so it all works out."

"I don't think anyone really is good at the 'existential shit'." 

Duncan looks at her in fake surprise, "Wow, did I just get you to curse??"

By now, Courtney's learned to ignore some of his antics, simply rolling her eyes before carrying on, "If there were right answers to these kinds of questions, we wouldn't be talking about them now."

"How thoughtful."

And another wave of comfortable silence falls upon them, but this time, Courtney is the one to break it: "Hey, thanks."

"You shouldn't be thanking me yet, I still have a whole school year to piss you off."

"And I'm sure you will….I just, I never realize the things I take for granted until I'm without them. I lose sight of things, and you just reminded me of them. Of the beach, for example."

"Hey, I'm just making conversation."

"How polite of you—cordial, some might even say."

"It's as I said before: to a princess like you, I've got to be."

She rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time that night, "I really hate that nickname."

"I know," Duncan says, without missing a beat.

And then they do that thing that Courtney partly likes and partly dislikes, where they're just looking at each other, analyzing each other, thinking about each other.

"I have a question for you," Duncan finally says.

She sets her sights on the road ahead and smugly crosses her arms, "Wow, you're just full of them tonight, aren't you?"

"It's the teacher-student thing…really turns me on."

"Don't be gross!" She lightly jabs at his arm, "You were saying?"

"I was saying…I thought they closed beaches at night. How'd you go, then?"

She paused to think about it for a moment, recalling the last time she went, "Um, I don't know, I guess I'd just sneak in."

"Sneak in? Doesn't that require", and cue the dramatic fake gasp, "breaking the rules??"

"Okay, stop. I know what you're doing," but Courtney couldn't fight the laughter bubbling in her throat.

"Woww, can't get so high and mighty on me now. What was it you were telling me about those trees?"

"Hey! There's a major difference between what I did and what you do!"

"Pot, meet kettle."

"God, you're so annoying!"

"I guess this means the princess has a dark side."

"Doesn't everyone?" She crossed her arms, "We're all a little fucked up."

Duncan thought about what she'd said for a moment, "You ever think it works the other way around?"

And there he was again, mischievous glint in his eye, turning the conversation inside out and back again, Courtney never quite sure which direction they were going next.

"What do you mean?"

"If everyone has some bad in them, then, do you think everyone has some good, too?"

"I don't really know. I guess, I like to think so. Do you?"

Duncan pauses again, eyes steady on the road. "Nah. We're all fucked up."

Courtney doesn't really know what to make of that, nor how to respond. Possibly because a part of her, the part that loathes a world in which people like her parents exist, knows that to an extent, Duncan was 100% right. And sometimes, it was so much easier to assume that dark side in people. 

But another part of her sat in quiet discomfort. She knew there was more to the human condition than could be categorized so simply into good and bad—there just had to be. 

After all, was she not looking at a perfect example of that, sitting right in front of her?

— ꕥ —

Bridgette checked her phone for the time, as she noticed the party starting to die down. 10:14 PM. For a darty, not bad at all.

She'd long noticed some friend groups dispersing and couples leaving to ride the rest of the evening out in the comfort of their homes. No one had gotten outrageously drunk, and clean-up wasn't going to be too bad. Overall, it was a good night!

She started scrolling through all the pictures she'd taken today: Lindsay and Katie tanning while Beth and Sadie drew designs on them out of sunscreen; Eva and DJ going head-to-head in an arm-wrestling competition; Izzy playing mermaids…well, by herself…while Owen was somehow drowning in the lake, only being 4 feet in; Courtney and Gwen cheering over their win while Justin and Duncan pouted like sore losers.

It brought Bridgette immense comfort to see all her friends, the people she cared about most, together and enjoying their fun. They wouldn't be teens forever, so she always took a secret moment to herself to relish in their youth and how relatively simple things were. 

"Alright, I'm out," Heather sighed as she walked up to Bridgette.

"Already?!"

"Is 5 hours not enough for you? I mean, then again, it is me, so I understand that I'll be very missed," she feigned concern.

"I was kind of thinking that you'd want to sleepover at my house tonight? We could make it a girls' night!" Bridgette dealt her the best puppy eyes she could possibly muster. And of course, contrary to popular belief, Heather wasn't made of stone, and the slightest hint of hesitation washed over her expression.

But instead of giving in, she sighed, "I couldn't even if I wanted to, Daniel starts school tomorrow and my parents are making me take him." 

Heather could only shrug, as Gwen and Courtney walked up to them.

"Wow, school actually starts on a Monday for him? Not a random Wednesday?" Gwen said incredulously, crossing her arms.

"Yep, it's crazy."

"Well please tell me that you guys can sleep over!" Bridgette pleaded, turning to her last two hopes of salvaging the night.

Gwen lets out an indifferent sigh, "Oh, what the hell. I'm game."

Now the blonde turned her attention to Courtney, who she knew would be the harder one to convince.

Under the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes on her, the brunette defensively clutched at her elbows: "I'd have to ask Josie."

"Josie?" Heather cocked a quizzical brow.

"Courtney's super cool older sister, who could not care less if you sleep over!" Bridgette clapped her hands together in hopes of swaying said girl, "Please, please, please, can you come!"

Heather squinted her eyes, "Hey, you didn't put this much effort in trying to get me to come."

"Pfft, that's because…" And Gwen trailed off before she could finish her snarky sentence, mainly due to Bridgette's deadpan look.

"Because! You have a valid excuse to miss out," Bridgette explained, putting a sympathetic hand on Heather's shoulder before she turned back to the brunette, "Come on, Court! We can even stop by your house if you wanna grab something."

There was another pause, as she mulled over her options. But Bridgette already knew she'd give in. Try as she may to make the rational choice, Courtney could never truly deny a fun opportunity when it presented itself. Especially if Bridgette had anything to say about it.

"Okay, okay, fine! I'm in!" She sighed, putting her hands up in defeat.

"YAY! Tonight is going to be so fun!" Bridgette squealed, swinging an arm around Gwen's shoulder, who only smiled in response.

Heather blew a strand of hair out of her face, "Nice to know how much I'm missing out."

Bridgette gave her a big hug goodbye, "Hey! It's an open invitation, if you ever decide to leave Daniel to fend for himself—not that I'm recommending that at all!"

"I'll consider it. Bye, Bridge." She said, hugging her back.

Then she turned to Gwen, and both girls just awkwardly waved, not quite knowing what to say other than the usual "Bye, Gwen" and "Bye, Heather".

"It was nice to meet you, Heather." Courtney nodded at her as she started making her way out.

"Yeah, same. We should talk more." Heather nodded at her as she reached for her car keys in her mini purse.

"Hey, wait a minute, aren't you driving Duncan home?!" Bridgette shouted at her as she started walking off.

Heather took a slight pause to her stride, before turning around and yelling in the general direction of the party, "DUNCAN! IF YOU'RE NOT IN MY CAR IN THE NEXT 5 MINUTES, I'M LEAVING YOU BEHIND!!"

Then, without another thought, she walked out the garage and went on her merry way out. Bridgette laughed and shook her head, Oh, Heather.

Duncan, summoned by her yelling, walked up to the three of them, pulling the hood of his sweater over his head. "Guess that means I'm heading out, too," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Bye, Duncan!!" And Bridgette went in for another one of her signature bear hugs—Bridgette was probably the only person Duncan let hug him like that.

"I'll see you guys soon, we gotta hang out before school," he said, giving Gwen a fist bump, a signature trademark of their farewells.

"Hey, don't think I forgot. You owe me," Gwen smirked, and he shook his head laughing. Bridgette and Courtney exchanged a glance of uncertainty, both having no clue as to what was happening between them.

Bridgette noticed an awkward moment of hesitation as Duncan stood before Courtney, neither of them quite knowing what to do, when just as Duncan raised his arms to pull her in for a hug, she extended her hand for a…handshake?

Gwen chortled at the sight, "Oh, there's no way." 

"I thought you were going in for a handshake!" Courtney defended, clearly frazzled by the miscommunication.

"Maybe if this was a job interview or some shit," Duncan chuckled, the corner of his eyes crinkling from his smiley expression, while Courtney was obviously pursing her lips to bite back a smile as she looked up at him.

They stood like that for a surprising amount of time, and Bridgette squinted her eyes at them, but when she turned to see if Gwen had picked up on anything, the girl could not seem less interested as she scrolled through something on her phone.

Hmm.

"Heather's gonna leave without you, you know?" Courtney broke the silence.

"Right, then," he put out an open hand for her to shake, and she couldn't keep herself from laughing at his earnestness, "Bye, Princess."

She sighed, shaking his hand, "Bye, Duncan."

He turned to salute at Bridgette and Gwen, "Malibu, Pasty."

As he walked off, it didn't escape Bridgette that Courtney's gaze stuck to his figure until it went out of sight.

But before Bridgette could comment on it, Gwen spoke out, stretching her arms in the air, "Alright, so should we head out, too?"

"Yes!" Bridgette exclaimed, "but first, I wanna help Geoff clean up a bit. You guys can wait in the car!"

"Are you sure? We can help clean, too," Courtney assured her.

"We can?" Gwen asked, yawning.

"No, don't sweat it! I'll be fast, and I mainly wanna say goodbye to him."

"Say less," Gwen was already turning to walk to Courtney's car, lifting a single hand to wave behind her, "Tell Geoff I said bye."

Courtney shortly followed, calling out to her, "Let us know if there's more to clean than you thought!"

"Thanks!" She shouted back, practically jumping as she did so, in hopes of projecting her voice louder, "Also, I call shotgun! AND AUX!!!"

Gwen nudged Courtney with her elbow, "Get ready to listen to endless Taylor Swift."

"Let me guess, Lover album?"

"With some Reputation and Fearless sprinkled in."

"And 1989!"

"I guess you could say we know her…All Too Well."

"Taylor's-Version-ten-minute-version-from-the-vault?"

Gwen chuckled as she linked her arms with Courtney, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

— ❈ —

They were now in their third—yes, third—hour of Just Dance, and the only reason they'd taken a pause was because Bridgette needed a bathroom break. Gwen swore that girl had the stamina of a strung-out bunny.

Gwen took a long chug of her water bottle before belly-flopping onto Bridgette's bed, where Courtney was already laying on her back, absentmindedly playing with something in her hand.

Upon closer inspection, Gwen realized that it was a lighter. She furrowed her brows at the brunette, "Wait a minute—you smoke?!"

She was then seemingly pulled out of her thoughts, and offered Gwen a polite smile, "Trying not to, actually. It's a stupid habit to have—those die hard, I guess."

And then Courtney sort of smiled to herself, though at what, Gwen had no clue. Instead of trying to figure it out, she merely shrugged: "Everyone's allowed one of those, though I never pegged you for the type."

"Trust me, I’m not. It just finds its way back to me whenever I’m stressed or anxious…which happens more often than I can confidently admit."

"Hey, no judgment from me. I smoke too, mainly weed." This brought back the memory of Gwen’s last time smoking weed with Duncan, and how they both went insane at the local grocery, overwhelmed by a fit of munchies.

She almost laughs out loud again at the thought of Duncan sitting in the grocery cart, demanding that Gwen speed him through each and every aisle like some 4-year-old on a sugar high.

But she’s pulled out of memory lane by Courtney’s hesitant voice: "Hey, do you think something that's bad for you can also do you a little good?"

Gwen’s gaze started to focus a little more on the lighter that Courtney kept turning and playing with in her hand. It was like she was constantly analyzing the object, looking for something new in each of its surfaces. "Um, I don’t know, I guess so? I mean, if you're talking about smoking, it definitely does you more harm in the long run than—"

Courtney flips onto her side now, to level her face with Gwen’s. "No, I just mean in general. Like, by and large, the things and people you're cautioned against and supposed to stay away from, don't you think there's still something to be learned from them? Some value in experiencing them?"

"It sounds to me like you've already answered your own question."

"Answers, it seems, are the only things I'm without these days."

"For your sake, I hope you find them here, in Wawanakwa. A soul can only be so tortured until they become insufferable to themselves—trust me, I know."

Courtney laughs, "That sounds like the plotline of a really pretentious, indie, coming-of-age film…but I hope so, too. Anyways, don't bother with my ramblings, it's just dumb stuff that keeps me up when I can't sleep. Call them champagne problems."

Gwen smirked at the subtle reference, "Hey, you're talking to the queen of insomnia, these eyebags aren't just for the aesthetic." Yet another biological marker that penned Gwen into the goth girl label. She never really stood a chance otherwise, did she?

"It's nice talking to you, I see why Bridgette likes you so much," Courtney takes a moment to look away from the lighter and now puts her full attention on Gwen. She finds it a little intimidating at first, but Gwen also found comfort in how easy it was to talk to her.

She sighed, "Yeah, I wanted to hate you when we first met, but that's gonna be very hard to do now that I’ve actually talked to you."

Courtney's eyes widened, "What?! Why did you want to hate me??"

"No, don’t take it personal. It's my general policy on people: everyone's an asshole until proven otherwise. Sounds cynical, but trust me, it saves you loads of time that would be otherwise spent on fake small talk. Maybe I'd be able to stand it more if I had some talent for it, but…." and she let her sentence trail off with a shrug.

"Wow…I guess that's..productive? How's that worked out for you so far?"

"Well, I have friends I actually like—which you'd be surprised to see how rare that is here in Wawanakwa. That small-town hospitality only goes so far."

"Okay Bridgette and Geoff, I obviously understand. Heather…?"

"Is more of a frenemy," Gwen pressed her lips together, finding difficulty in labeling her relationship with Heather. 

"Yikes."

"Eh, I'm used to it. It's pretty interesting to see her every day, not knowing whether she's going to be a decent human being or literal bitch to me; honestly, it adds a nice variety to my daily, otherwise mundane, routine."

Courtney chuckles at her cynicism, "Amen to that. I guess my read on her wasn't too far off." She takes a pause, almost unsure as to whether she wants to continue, "And then, Duncan?"

Gwen prays that her cheeks haven't blushed, "He's, um, he's cool." She briefly turns her head to check the doorway to see if Bridgette's back yet, but mainly to hide her flushed expression.

"Oh, I'm sure he thinks that of himself," the brunette scoffed.

"He can seem like kind of an egotistical dick at first, but he's not actually that bad."

"See, now that's a line straight out of some high school rom-com," she pointed out.

"No I promise it's true! You just gotta get to know him better," Gwen played with one of the low-hanging strands of hair in her face.

"I suppose," Courtney hummed in thought.

Gwen pauses for a moment, deciding whether or not to ask, "Do you?"

"Do I…?"

"Want to get to know him better, I mean."

"Um…" She flips onto her back again, holding the lighter in the air so that the overhead lighting shines favorably on an etching Gwen knew all too well.

What the fuck. Thoughts raced in Gwen's mind as she tried to piece together what was happening…somehow, Courtney had Duncan's lighter, arguably one of his most prized possessions. Not that he'd ever explained to Gwen why he was so attached to it—sure, it was a nice lighter, of solid material, with a beautiful custom etching: "Take a walk on the Wild(er) side."

Either Duncan gave it to her, or she stole it from him, neither of which made any sense to Gwen. They'd quite literally just met. What. The. Fuck.

Courtney, absolutely oblivious to the discourse in Gwen's mind, sighed as she thought of how to respond, "I'm not sure yet. I haven't quite made my mind up about him."

And then, she saw it. Gwen saw it—a moment so brief and fleeting that it might've totally passed over anyone else's head. But Gwen, being Gwen, saw in Courtney what she'd been seeing in herself the past year, since the very first day her mom moved her to Wawanakwa Falls and forced her to take her little brother to the park, where she met Duncan for the first time.

That subtle tinge of pink that filled Courtney's face at the sound of Gwen's question, and the way she coyly trailed her finger across the lighter's engraved writing, wrapping it safely in her palms—that was enough for Gwen to see what she'd been denying in herself all along.

Vulnerability, feelings, interest…with, for, and in, Duncan.

And Gwen had never in her life felt more stupid, when suddenly, Bridgette barged in from the hallway and assumed the posing and persona of a famous, guitar-playing rockstar.

"WHO'S. READY. TO. ROCK?!?!"

—୨୧—

Whew. Finally got through chapter one, and I'm so happy to get it done.

Are there any other Fiona Apple fans?? I hope you guys appreciate the Paper Bag reference because that's been my most listened to song on Spotify for the last 2 years.

As always, comment out your thoughts and opinions on all the characters so far because I'd love to hear them! My current favorite character to write is Gwen—she's very jaded, but really relatable at times, at least to me. She's just a girl lol.

My writing schedule is all over the place at the moment, like most everything else in my life. But! I do have a general storyline for how I want this story to go, that's partially why it took so long for me to write this. I wanted to nail all the introductory scenes so they align with the general story arc. All that to say, hopefully writing chapter 2 won't take me too long, (it definitely will) but I hope the chapter lengths somehow compensates for how slow I am at writing. I just really want to emphasize that, no matter HOW LONG it takes me, I WILL BE CONTINUING THIS FANFICTION! Okay? Okay.

Anyways, go listen to Paper Bag in the meantime if you haven't already, or even if you have, this is your excuse to listen again!

See you next time <3

a. yasmine

[yazzberry]

guys hear me out duncney as madz and central cee bc the aesthetics completely match up, she’s put together and stylish and universally acknowledged to be out of his league, he’s an asshole and makes shitty music (which i still enjoy) and does her dirty so many times having several cheating allegations with other girls yet, in this essay i will

[yazzberry]

any excuse to make moodboards...

I just thought I'd share with you my personal visions for this story and the characters I'm going to be writing (honestly, I'll take any excuse to make a mood board), including their birthdays, interests, visual muses, aesthetics, etc. 

If you agree with any of my visions, please let me know in the comments. I'd love to hear all your opinions and head-canons!

—୨୧—

Note: I gave all the characters the same last names as their voice actors (except for Alejandro, since they give us his last name in the show haha).

— ❥ —

Name: Courtney Lucille Barlow Birthday: October 17 (16 years old) (Libra) Interests/Hobbies: speech & debate, volleyball, reading, watching Gilmore Girls and The Vampire Diaries (guilty pleasures), student council, singing (but refuses to join the school choir), playing the piano, watching college vlogs and other youtube videos about college (her dream school is Yale) Visual Muse: (Cindy Kimberly)

— ꕥ —

Name: Bridgette Isobel Fairlie Birthday: June 25 (16 years old) (Cancer) Interests/Hobbies: surfing, swimming, marine biology, cooking vegetarian dishes, baking, crocheting (even though she's really bad at it), roller skating, riding on her bike, watching romcoms (she always cries at the happy endings), making candles, leading environmental club Visual Muse: (Sasha Pieterse)

— ❈ —

Name: Gwendolyn (Gwen) Ingrid Fahlenbock Birthday: February 8 (16 years old) (Aquarius) Interests/Hobbies: drawing in her sketchbook, painting, listening to Deftones, making playlists, binging reality TV shows (secretly loves the petty drama), painting her nails twice a week, helps make sets for school plays and stage manages, loves rainy days, smoking weed, messing with her cello, feeding stray cats Visual Muse: (Krysten Ritter)

— ♔ —

Name: Heather Saeko Wilson Birthday: January 11 (16 years old) (Capricorn) Interests/Hobbies: cheerleading, dancing ballet, keeping a following on social media, photography (she'd never admit it but she likes taking more than just selfies), watching sad romance movies and Gossip Girl, shopping, fashion, likes history (it's all just gossip), being around people (doesn't do too well alone, but would never admit it) Visual Muse: (Sandy Diana Bang)

— ✪ —

Name: Duncan Wilder Nelson Birthday: March 30 (16 years old) (Aries) Interests/Hobbies: skating, soccer, tagging graffiti everywhere (especially abandoned buildings), smoking weed, teaching his dog (Petey) tricks, loves late-night drives, listening to grunge rock, watching old movies, playing the drums, secretly likes going to vintage bookstores and record stores, loves a good Oreo McFlurry, secretly really good at math Visual Muse: (Zario Bolanos)

— ༄ —

Name: Geoff Bartol Petronijevic Birthday: December 3 (16 years old) (Sagittarius) Interests/Hobbies: surfing, swimming, wakeboarding, water polo, lacrosse (and is actually really good at it), partying, comedy movies, listening to house music and international music (especially eastern European), cooking for friends, is determined to throw a Project X-level party someday, actually really likes pottery and clay-making Visual Muse: (Brad Pitt)

— ✼ —

Name: Trent Theodore McCord Birthday: April 26 (16 years old) (Taurus) Interests/Hobbies: playing the guitar, listening to all genres of music, watching and reviewing great films (loves Letterbox'd), reading, writing songs and poems, surfing the internet, taking care of his little sisters when his mom isn't home, driving to scenic spots for song inspiration and some peace of mind, working a shift at the local daycare center Visual Muse: (Logan Lerman)

—    ҉    —

Name: Alejandro Matías Burromuerto Birthday: August 13 (16 years old) (Leo) Interests/Hobbies: soccer, beach volleyball, singing, student council, theater and drama, posting on social media, flirting with random girls (but never seeing it through), partying, watching black & white films, always seeks to outshine his brother (often doesn't succeed), tutoring others (is really strong in all subjects) Visual Muse: (Xavier Serrano)

friendly reminder that this is all for my story now posted on wattpad and fanfiction.net, ENDGAME.

[yazzberry]

posting the prologue of my high school au total drama fanfic

it is also posted on wattpad: ENDGAME [total drama] by aliasyasmine

link in bio <3

no beta reader so lmk if u find any errors :0

chapter 0: the funny way i feel tonight

— ❈ —

"Yo! Gwen!"

The faint tap of a popcorn ball landing (and sticking to) her head brings Gwen's attention back towards the party. She had been in the midst of zoning out, as her friends knew she was privy to doing, before loosening her lips into a waxed smile at the sight of them—her friends.

Friends. Wow, never thought I'd use that word so fondly, she thought to herself as her ears readjusted to the discordant mixture of blasting party music and blasted partygoers—Gwen could tell from the lingering fumes of weed spilling in from the patio, where everyone would go for a smoke. She considered that she hadn't taken a hit all night, and should likely go out for one later. Thank God she wasn't driving home.

"I didn't realize we were back in middle school, what's with the food projectiles?" She scoffed, picking the popcorn out of her hair and launching it back at its thrower.

"Oh come on, pasty. Don't act like you're above it." He didn't miss a beat as he spoke, smartly dodging her lame attempt at a rebuttal. Duncan—it's crazy to see what his smirk could do to Gwen, even now. But she's not into him, of course she's not. Gwen and Duncan, they've always been the best of friends. Huh, there's that word again: friends.

His playful expression was perfectly painted by the dancing firelight, courtesy of Geoff's fireplace. All the emanating hues of red and orange and yellow accentuated every corner of the den, acting as the only source of light probably across the entire house, save for a few LED strips and lamp fixtures.

Nevertheless, on a night as auspicious as the last Saturday before the first day of school—the final, dying call of summer—all darkness of the night was welcome. And, like with any high school party, it served the ultimate purpose to guise all the soon-regretted (yet presently indulgent) decisions made by dumb teens looking for cheap thrills.

For Gwen, it let her sneak longing glances at Duncan without him noticing. She knew her affinity for darkness would serve her good one day, aside from labeling her as the 'weird goth girl'.

She playfully punched his shoulder, eliciting an eye roll from Heather, whose uncanny insight and understanding of the teenage brain once made her a formidable opponent, but now, an all-knowing friend.

"Ew, is this really any better than third-wheeling with Bridge and Geoff?" Heather said, looking down on them from her comfortable position on an armchair, a lazy arm propping her head up on the side of the couch and legs tucked parallel into the seat. "And where are they anyways? I'm bored." She added, feigning a deep interest with her nail beds as she stretched her hand closer to the fire, trying to examine them.

Duncan and Gwen sat on the floor with their backs against another couch. Duncan cackled as he laid his head back, slightly resting it on the cushion behind him, "Oh I'm sure they're getting nice and cozy in some random room."

Her voice dripped with attitude, lined with disgust, "Like I needed you to tell me that."

He scoffed back. "Well, it's not like you outright asked me or anything—oh wait, you did."

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Didn't sound it."

Now Gwen was the one to roll her eyes, before deciding to be a good samaritan and end the spat before it killed the vibe: "Guys, I'm gonna go get a refill. Anyone want another drink?"

But before she could even get up, another voice chirped in. "Wow I guess this is great timing!" Bridgette exclaimed as she and Geoff set down their load of red party cups on the coffee table, in number totaling five. One for each friend of the group: Geoff, Bridgette, Heather, Duncan, and now, as the most recent addition, Gwen.

"The party turnout is great tonight, I'm so glad everyone from school could make it!" Bridgette sighed as she threw herself on a loveseat, consequently dragging Geoff down with her from their intertwined hands.

Geoff doted on her, moving a careless strand of hair that found its way right in the middle of her face, "I always thought my parties were great, but they're even better when you help me plan them. I'm starstruck by you, babe."

Gwen, Duncan, and Heather, for all their differences, looked amongst each other and shared the same expression, lost somewhere between disgust and humor.

"No way am I sitting through your little love-fest this sober," Heather remarked as she reached for a drink, Duncan doing the same as he shook his head in understanding.

"No!" Bridgette exclaimed, jolting herself out of Geoff's touch and paying indivisible attention to her friends. "You see, I kind of had an idea.."

"Alright! Malibu's got a new drinking game for us to play!" Duncan hooted, raising his cup to her.

Gwen smiled as she followed in suit, grabbing a drink and clutching it a teasing distance from her mouth, certainly close enough to get a foul whiff of whatever concoction Geoff had cooked up for them moments earlier. Gwen couldn't help but grimace at the strong stench of liquor—how anyone could stomach a sip of that was beyond her.

Bridgette coyly rubbed her neck, tousling her honey blonde waves as they moved with her nerved expression. "Not exactly, Duncan, I just thought maybe we'd go around and say some stuff we wanna do this year, y'know, like goals." Then, finding the confidence to properly pitch her idea, perhaps herself excited about the prospects of a new school year, "Junior year is a really important one—it's our second-to-last year before college! Big big deal, guys!"

She frantically waved her arms in the air, as if the earnestness of her expression wouldn't be enough to convince them of it.

"God you sound like my mom," Gwen laughed as she set her cup back down (at a safe distance from her nostrils, of course).

"I think that's a great idea Bridge!" Geoff declared, raising his cup to his girlfriend's ingenuity.

Duncan leaned into Gwen's ear to whisper, "Can't remember if he's in Division 1 lacrosse or D1 glazing." She only slightly bursted with laughter as she tried to feign her whole attention on her too-wholesome friend.

"Laugh all you want guys, but I for one want to have a memorable year with you all," the blonde huffed as she protectively hugged her cup to her chest, as if it were a manifestation of her most sincere ideas.

"Well you've got a point there, Bridge," Heather started, leaning into the conversation and raising her cup to toast with a devious smile, "Junior year will be perfect, because I'll be taking my rightful spot as cheerleading captain and Queen Bee, especially now that last year's seniors have graduated."

At this Gwen couldn't help but scoff, Oh, this is too good.

"Yeah, fuck this year's seniors, right? It's not like they'll wanna go for those much coveted positions either," Gwen spotted her an incredulous look, at which Heather only smirked.

"Well, unlike you, Gwen, I'm not scared off by a little competition, or confrontation." She confidently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Especially when I know that I'll always come out on top."

Gwen didn't dare humor her antics with a response and instead just rolled her eyes at Heather's massive ego. And it wasn't like Gwen didn't pick up on Heather's subtle dig at her—"scared off by confrontation" what the hell was that supposed to mean, Heather?!—she just had to swallow back all angered sentiments and stuff it into the brimming jar of "Heather Complaints" she had, filed away in her mind.

But no. They were friends. Friends! Even with all the qualms, contentions, complaints. They had to (at least for everyone else's sake) pretend they could stand each other and weren't actually at each other's throats half the time.

I mean sure, they had their moments of camaraderie—some sort of pseudo-friendship existing between them—but never mind the fact that were it not for Bridgette's unwavering kindness, Geoff's welcoming and contagious joy, Duncan's uncanny ability to attract all things fun, exciting, and maybe a little dangerous, they would not be friends at all.

Duncan, completely ignoring whatever subtle feud was occurring between the two and taking Heather's toast as an excuse to go in for a greedy sip of his drink, offered his signature smirk and dismissive shrug, "The seniors this year suck; if it means sticking it Scott and his loser girlfriend, I'm game."

At this, Bridgette melted into a sigh of frustration.

"Now that's something I can get on board with. I mean, seriously, I'm so glad we don't have any douchebags like him in our grade," Bridgette added, also taking a drink from her cup (and with no visible reaction, Gwen noted—maybe Gwen was just a lightweight after all).

The gears started turning in Gwen's head. She'd already been apart of the friend group for a whole year now, but even so was still catching up with all the complex lore of her friends' dramas with other people. "Scott..wait a minute is he the person who you guys said st—"

"Yep." Duncan responded before she could even finish her remark.

Hmph, guess he's still not over it. Understandable, though unexpected from someone as stoic as Duncan makes himself out to be.

"Well Bridgette's right," Geoff beamed at his girlfriend, "Everyone in our grade's hella chill." He sat back contently, and, as if on cue, all of the attention in the room was snatched by someone singing, loudly, into a microphone all the way in the living room

"AND I JUST CAN'T LOOK, IT'S KILLIN' ME...AND TAKIN' CONTROL..."

At the sight of Cody belting his little heart out, drinking in all the glory of the generous crowd pooling and cheering at his feet, Geoff's kitchen island being his stage, Gwen immediately whipped out her phone to take a picture.

"JEALOUSY, TURNIN' SAINTS INTO THE SEA!"

"With some notable exceptions," Bridgette said, finishing her boyfriend's thought.

"That's so fucking embarrassing," Heather sneered, her bored expression apparently not quelled by the sudden mosh pit forming in the living room. Duncan followed in suit, taking his eyes away from the train-wreck of a performance, "Remind me to bully him for it later."

"Come on, you guys don't have to be mean. How about you share your goal for this year, Duncan?" Bridgette chastised, trying to find a lighter conversation within his general broodiness.

"Yea pass, I don't have goals," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Oooh you're such a bad boy, Duncan. You don't have any hopes or aspirations—let me guess, juvie crushed them," Gwen taunted with a playful smirk, setting the bait for a much too-humorous reaction.

"If the role's already written, might as well play into it," he nonchalantly shrugged, a similar smirk finding its way onto his face, "And besides, the chicks love a bad boy."

Now he was looking straight at her, and, put simply, Gwen could not deal. "Alright, cool down, Casanova." She tried to play it down, even turning away so that he couldn't see a layer of blush spreading across her cheeks, noticeable against her (way too, according to Heather) pale skin.

"You think you're slick but I see your game, D-man," Geoff professes with a knowing expression. "And let me just say, you're out of luck, because the best girl in school is already taken-"

Geoff tried to give his girlfriend a sweet peck before she abruptly stood up in sudden excitement, even knocking his beloved cowboy hat off his head.

"OH MY GOD!" She shrieked, clutching her phone.

Geoff joined Bridgette on her feet, sneaking a peek over her shoulder at her screen. A matching smile soon colored his own appearance with elation, "No way! Mocha's coming to town??!!"

"Ugh, your nickname-giving skills suck, Geoff. Who the fuck is Mocha?" Heather scoffed, feigning pretension to hide the the great curiosity baked into her question.

Bridgette still hadn't stopped her gleeful jumps as her fingers flew across her keyboard, "You guys know Courtney, my friend from California?? Her older sister got into the residency program at our local hospital, y'know, the one for neurosurgery?! And anyways—they're moving to Wawanakwa!!"

The bubbly blonde hugged Geoff in excitement and the two were in the air, squealing with joy.

Duncan burst out laughing, "Geoff, dude, have some dignity."

But Geoff, whether he heard his friend's disapproval or not, didn't care and kept jumping up with Bridgette.

"Pretty underwhelming if you ask me, especially considering you've never mentioned her to us," Heather dryly stated.

"Yea Bridge, is she the other woman?" Gwen joked, falling victim to her friend's contagious joy.

"Come on guys, you're all gonna love Mocha! She's really cool!" Geoff added, trying to get his underwhelmed friends excited.

"Personally, I couldn't care less. Call me when Latte and Cappuccino are in town," Duncan lamely remarked as he took another sip of his drink.

And then, he did what Gwen never expected him to do—he looked straight at her.

Not at her, per se, more like into her. It was really stupid, actually, how one single motion—it's not even a motion! just a turn of the eye—could have Gwen second-guessing her entire existence under his unwavering glare.

The truth is, Gwen's not as lovestruck as she sounds. She's just a teenage girl with a crush, and while Gwen had never previously been able to identify with the cheesy generic teenage experiences, she felt a small internal victory within the fact that, for once, she finally fit a socially acceptable stereotype.

"So pasty—you gonna share your goal with us now?" He taunted her, his trademarked smirk covering his face.

"Yea Gwen! Come on, share with us!" Bridgette doted as she sat herself down on the floor right next to Gwen, with Geoff sitting down right beside Bridgette, scooping her with his arms.

Gwen sighed, slightly wringing her fingers in her lap. Cheesy as it sounded, she had a lot of goals for this year. And while she was never one to set high expectations for just about anything—with the knowledge that they'd inevitably be let down by some cosmic force in the universe, denying her a happy and conventional life—this time around, the question found her with more hopes and dreams than she'd like to admit.

"What is weird goth girl pining for? Hmmm, let's see, can I take a guess—" And before Heather could even finish her sentence, Gwen threw a pillow at her, having anticipated a lame remark from her direction.

"Come on Gwen! Speak your truth, brah!" Geoff encouraged, raising a cheerful cup at her hesitancy to, well, 'speak her truth'.

As she looked around at all her friends, Gwen couldn't help but revel in the disbelief that a) she'd actually made friends as the weird new girl in town and b) got close enough to people that they actually care about what she has to say. Seriously, her former self would've never bought this.

Oddly enough, her life was perfect in the way it was imperfect—she had friends, and a love interest on the horizon. It was the scene where every cheesy high school movie would cut to the credits. What more could she even say?

"Umm," she started, "I guess this year I want to...do more stuff."

At this, Bridgette raised a questioning brow. "Care to be just a little bit more specific?" she prodded.

"I mean that I want to take more risks, go after what I want, and not let things pass me by because I'm too...self-conscious, or, in my head." Gwen took a deep breath, not realizing that she had been staring into her lap this whole time and couldn't hold eye contact with anyone in the group when she was being vulnerable. But, in the spirit of her professed goal, she hazarded a look up, "Y'know what I mean?"

And all of them, even Heather, offered a knowing glance. "Yes...dorkula." She admitted, hiding her smile behind her cup.

Geoff applauded the side of his cup, "Well that's a toast-worthy goal if I've ever heard one—to Gwen!"

"To Gwen!"

They all took a hearty drink from their cups, even the honored girl herself despite her great aversion to alcoholic beverages.

The burning sensation of the mystery juice sliding down her throat produced a sour expression on her face, much to the humor of the rest of her friends (friends!).

Yep, she definitely was a lightweight.

— ❥ —

"Psst, Court! We're here!"

Another gentle tap and nudge on her shoulder was enough to wake the brunette up from her sleep. It takes her a second or two to come to—her eyes slowly blinking, panning around the car to find a disheveled mess of snacks and candy wrappers thrown askew the floor, a wool blanket wrapped around her body, and her sister sitting beside her, trying (and failing, but waking up from a nap is disorienting anyway) to softly wake her up.

"Josie...how long was I out for?" Courtney asked, sorely rubbing her neck in a sorry attempt to recover from whatever horrid position she had slept in.

Her sister scoffed, blowing an unruly strand of blonde that had fallen from her messy bun—emphasis on messy—out of her face, "Oh, you know, not too long; maybe just the whole car ride over from the airport, so basically like 2 and a half hours."

"Talk about middle of nowhere," Courtney groaned as she took a wistful look out the window.

"Well, I prefer to think of it as small-town charm!" Josie beamed as she hopped out of the car door and embraced the fresh air of a forgiving, 3:00 AM Wawanakwa night.

"Yes, and how charming it is to be so stranded from civilization. Tell me, you do know that Santa isn't real, right?" But even as she teased, Courtney couldn't fight the shadow of a grin appearing on her face.

Josie's energy was contagious, and while sometimes her optimisms were misled on some fantastical, idealistic (and ultimately unrealistic) notions of what the world had to offer, Courtney had to admit that it felt nice to just take things as they came—nice and easy.

In theory, at least.

She joined Josie in getting off the car and stretching her limbs a bit, before getting back to business and taking their luggage out and paying the driver.

"Come on Josie, let's get inside—it's freezing out here!" The brunette called to her sister as struggled in trying to maneuver all six of their suitcases up the walkway and onto the porch.

"Oh Court, hold on! It's such a pretty night, and look at the stars!! We never got these in LA," The latter comment was more of an afterthought as her thoughts fixated only on the sight above, her eyes wide, her jaw dropped.

Courtney rolled her eyes before deciding to indulge in her sister's wishes and bother a glance a upward.

Oh, how she hated to admit when Josie was right. But she really was.

It seemed as though every single star in the galaxy put on its best dress to welcome the Barlow sisters that night, in a true display of beauty that Courtney, with her cache of travelled places and around-the-world luxe vacations, couldn't say she'd ever seen before.

So this is Wawanakwa Falls, a light chuckle and the shadow of a smile punctuated her thoughts.

"Alright," Courtney muttered, "let's get inside."

And even as she started to walk towards the entry of their new home, her gaze was still fixed above.

—୨୧—

Hope you enjoyed this short prologue! Some food for your thoughts:

What do we think of Gwen? Her liking Duncan, shocker, right?

And what about her and Heather being friends-ish so early on in the story? They obviously seem like they have stuff to work out, but most fanfics make them friends way later on, if at all. I don't know, we'll see how this goes.

And also a Scott mention in the prologue—what is his deal? And what's his beef with Duncan?

Drop all your thoughts, opinions, predictions (?) in the comments, PLEASE, I love interacting with you!! The lengths of full episodes will be longer (this prologue was about 3k words and my writing average is 6-8k (!) words), so don't worry if this was much too short for your taste. See you next time!

a. yasmine

[racketballz]

Out of context SCBME :p sorta

[racketballz]

Saw a meme 🫡

[yazzberry]

it's been a minute. possibly more.

wowwww i cant believe im back here but i really wanna follow thru on my fandom commitments. i actually just finished 6teen and it sent me into a depression bc it's just SO PERFECT and im so sad it has no fandom buttttttttt

i have NOT forgotten abt my beloved powerpuff gorls <3333 im this close to finishing a super hot blossutch comic. it's kinda long too so prepare to get FED blossutch stans.

i've also started working on a total drama fanfic that I started way back in 2022 and just never did anything with. reading MTH always has me inspired to write, and since im convinced that no ppg fanfic will ever be greater than SBJ's, im not even attempting a ppg work and am moving on to total drama.

as u can see....lots to come, idek if anyone's here and reading this but whatever. get excited!

[yazzberry]

bubbles slowly becoming my fav 🥺💙

bc is next :0

[yazzberry]

bubbles from the powerpuff girls

[yazzberry]

blossom from the powerpuff girls

[yazzberry]

buttercup from the powerpuff girls

[blossom-uto]

Bubbles

Blossom

Buttercup

[yazzberry]

(3/3)

blossom utonium 🌸

i love pink but i feel like i might’ve gone overboard-

[yazzberry]

(2/3)

bubbles utonium 🫐

my personal fav tbh :))

[yazzberry]

made ppg moodboards <3

(1/3)

buttercup utonium 🐍

[renaissaine]

random ppg and rrb body headcanons that’s been on my mind for ages. there is absolutely no logic behind this, just what feels natural to me.

Height:

Boomer (190 cm) > Brick (186 cm) > Butch (183 cm)

Blossom (174 cm) > Buttercup (169 cm) > Bubbles (163 cm)

Physique:

Blues - the leanest of the group (Boomer is officially the pale nicotine addict about to perish large eyebags scrawny giant for me)

Greens - the muscular, medium sized ones (cliche but it works for me)

Reds - THICK, i’m sorry but they are just packing in all the right places

Hair:

Brick - extremely straight and soft, upper back length. usually keeps it in a low ponytail. likes to braid it too. thick eyebrows. light blonde bodyhair except for navel and armpits. can but refuses to grow facial hair because it annoys him.

Butch - curly and volumnous, MULLET or buzzcut. finest shade of black. nicely shaped long eyebrows. hairy chest & legs (very proud of his bodyhair!). can and sometimes will grow a moustache.

Boomer - wavy fluffy hair, lower neck length. middle part beach waves cut. will wear hairclips and bandanas. thinner straight eyebrows. very light almost invisible bodyhair. can’t grow facial hair (god’s his witness he has tried).

Blossom - straight silky hair down her waist. still wears her bowtie. thin arched eyebrows. light body hair that she refuses to shave.

Buttercup - thick straight hair, below ears length with bangs. she will only use comb like once every few days and likes to keep it shaggy. bushy S-shaped eyebrows. has body hair which she shaves in accordance to her current mood.

Bubbles - soft thin waves down to the middle of her back. experiments with all kinds of hairstyles. thin round eyebrows. dislikes body hair on herself and will shave all of it.

Extras:

Brick - heavy freckles EVERYWHERE. long diamond shaped head. sharp upturned deep set eyes, long thin nose and wide lips. average teeth. doesn’t like tattoos or piercings. big palm with short thick fingers. also, beautiful healthy nails beds.

Butch - has the nicest skin out of the boys with no skincare routine. square headshape. hooded, wide set bright eyes. wider nose. lips always dry and on the thicker side. has a gap between his front teeth but they are pearly white. lots of bruises and scars. few tattoos and plenty of piercings (mainly on his face).

Boomer - softer features than the other two. heart shaped head. has a few cute moles on his face. downturned eyes on the rounder side. heavy eyelashes and heavy eyebags. straight button nose. cupid bow thin lips. blinding white teeth. actually hides a few scars under his clothes. ear piercings, no tattoos. long thin piano fingers.

Blossom - freckles everywhere (though not as numerous as Brick’s). extraordinarly smooth skin. oval shaped head. upturned ‘cat’ eyes with light but long eyelashes. greek long nose. beestung thick puckering lips. no piercings or tattoos. wears everyday casual make up (mascara, some tinted lipbalm, blush). elegant long fingers with french nails.

Buttercup - angular strong (still feminine) features. inverted triangle headshape. upturned sharp eyes with extremely thick eyelashes. short snub nose. wide uni-lips. no piercings but a few tattoos. prefers no make up but will put on minimal if she feels like it. rough skin hands with short trimmed nails.

Bubbles - looks soft and squishy. heart shaped head. round portruding eyes with especially long eyelashes. upturned short nose. full heart shaped lips. BRACES! nipple piercings but no tattoos. likes to wear heavy make up (bright eyeshadows, lot of blush, stickers etc.). butter soft small hands with multicoloured nails.

[buttercupistough]

i kinda remember Buttercup being the fastest PowerPuff Girl was canon…

but everyone is saying Bubbles is the fastest?

am i missing something? wasn’t Buttercup being the fastest canon in the show???

someone explain lol

some of the pages say Bubbles is the fastest and the others say Buttercup is the fastest?? IM SO CONFUSED… maybe it wasnt explained in canon?

i also found this but idk how valid this is??? HELP

[teacupballerina]

Buttercup is the fastest between the three, seen in "Speed Demon"

...but Blossom is the strongest, seen in the movie, Los Dos Mojos, etc, she overpowers Buttercup. We do not see which level of the Danger Grid she can take in Bubblevicious, but it can be assumed higher than Buttercup since she is stronger than Buttercup at least. She is also typically the first to recover when the girls are flattened, and she was the only one who could beat Princess in Stuck Up, Up, and Away.

Buttercup is the TOUGHEST fighter, not the strongest. She is tough to compensate for being the weakest Powerpuff, physically (Bubbles is stronger as she can take a higher Danger Grid level).

People are remembering "Members Only" when they say Bubbles is the fastest because she races E-man. But Buttercup is chosen for the strength contest, and she's the weakest. Blossom's task was given because she was the only one left and the only one capable of the complex calculation she needed to do in her task.

[weatherman667]

It might simply be a matter of motivation.

Buttercup is motivated by competition, but combat is just another form of competition, so when she’s in combat she doesn’t try any harder than she does when she’s in athletic competitions.

Blossom cares more about saving people, so, she’s willing to risk hurting herself in combat, but outside of combat she is less directly motivated.

Bubbles is not directly motivated by combat or competition, so, when she gives it all, it’s in panicked state, going all in with hysterical strength.

[bee-cried]

This got deep o: