#which is a preperatory school

[noandnooneelse]

i hadn't noticed how aubrey upjohn's name changes

On the threshold I paused. I remember in my early days at the private school where I won my Scripture Knowledge prize, Arnold Abney M.A., the headmaster, would sometimes announce that he wished to see Wooster in his study after morning prayers, [...]

[pansexual-puppy-pack]

day 2 of @theoraekenapperciation 's theo raeken appreciation week: on accident

Theo's not entirely sure how, but Brett, Lori, and Alec end up following him around.

He'd enrolled back in Beacon Hills High School as a senior, and after everything that happened, Brett and Lori decided to transfer in from Devenford Preperatory School, and Derek strongarmed Alec into enrolling, too.

This meant that he and Brett were in the same year, taking a lot of the same classes, and that Alec and Lori were in their sophomore year—which, in turn, meant that they all (for some fucking reason) started attaching themselves to Theo's hip.

Theo tried telling Liam about this over a free period they both had, but Liam just laughed and asked him why he was complaining about getting new friends. Theo had sighed, and no more than ten seconds later, Brett had decided to seat himself on Theo's other side.

"See?" Theo asked Liam, gesturing to Brett's—well, everything, really.

Liam shrugged. "Can't be that bad."

Theo leaned over the table. "I literally see them 24/7. We live in the same loft. We go to the same school. Alec even hides in my backseat sometimes so he can catch a ride with me."

("What're we talking about?" Brett asked, pulling out a textbook and his laptop. Theo turned to him and said, "Don't act like you didn't listen in on the way here." Brett gave him a shit-eating grin.)

Liam rolled his eyes. "I think they just like you, Theo."

Theo groaned, a little over-dramatically.

At the end of the school day, Theo "accidentally" forgets to let the three know that he's heading home. (He just got in his truck and left—he needed some time alone.)

...But it's not like that's ever stopped them before.

He barely gets to Corey's neighborhood before he spots it—Brett's signature black car, running a red light, with Lori and Alec sticking their heads and bodies out the windows.

Theo curses and makes a u-turn—louder than expected, tires squealing as he goes—and speeds off. He almost misses the shouts of Alec and Lori as Brett's car does the same and starts to chase him.

Fuck him, it's not like it's exactly _easy_ to hide a big, black pickup truck. He doesn't know this area of Beacon Hills as well as the rest of it and kinda banked on Brett not knowing it either—but he guessed that he was being tracked on the Pack-mandatory Find My Friends. (He should've turned it off. Fuck.)

"Get your ass back here!" Theo heard Brett yell, his engine roaring as he started catching up.

Shit.

Theo clicks his tongue and makes a sharp left, rolling quickly back on one of the main roads of Beacon Hills and basically racing Brett through the streets and—giving up halfway through the drive—back to the Hale loft...

...And instead somehow ends up at the Hale Auto Shop. (On accident, he swears. It's like his body just decided to get to a different place.)

He loses the three on the way there, too; how, he has absolutely no idea, but he's grateful for it. He lets himself into the auto shop, waving at Derek, and letting his feet lead him to the too-cozy couch in Derek's office. (Derek'll understand. He's not exactly a bursting social butterfly, either.)

Theo falls face-first onto it and drifts right off to sleep, quiet for the first time in a month.

...For like, ten minutes, maybe, because it isn't long before Theo feels the couch dip with new weight then two bodies pile on top of his.

He groans. "Is an hour of sleep too much to ask?"

Brett's laugh comes from Derek's desk. Opening his eyes, Theo sees him pulling out his notebook and laptop—looks like it's gonna be a long night. Especially since Lori and Alec's combined weight are threatening to take all of Theo's air, and he's about 70% sure that another minute like this would end up with at least one of them suffocating.

Lori hums and rests her chin on the top of his head. "You didn't tell us where you were going. We got worried,"

"I can take care of myself," Theo gruffs, reaching a hand up to bat away at her.

"Yeah—" Alec says, batting back in her defense. "—But it's more fun when you're with other people, right?"

Theo sighs and decides to roll over, effectively sending both Alec and Lori toppling to the floor.

The sound they make draws Derek's footsteps towards the room. "Could you guys not fuck up my office?"

"Derek!" Alec calls from the floor. "Help, Theo assaulted us!"

Derek opens the door, and his gaze is immediately drawn to Alec and Lori on the floor, then up to Theo lying peacefully on the couch. He rolls his eyes. "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Hi, Theo."

Theo waves again. "Hey,"

Derek checks out the room, seems to decide that it's in an okay state, and walks back out. "Dinner at seven! Be there!"

A chorus of yeah's echoes through his office as the door softly shuts behind him.

Theo promptly falls back asleep.

[giganfan03]

White Boy Street Survivor

Nawwww, you know what it do. Yeah bruh don’ be pressin’ me on my shit breh yarredy know what the fuck I got on. Shieeet, just copped this new piece last week from the jewelry display at Khol’s awwww yeah. I grinded all month sellin’ fake addies to kids who’s parents made ‘em play piano and violin ‘n shit. Yup, I grabbed my stack and went down there. Said, “Bitch gimme yo finest chain, I’m tryna be blessed up right neow.” So I got this bitch right here, sum’n light. I can’t be wearing it too much tho which sucks because I’m tryna let the hoes know what’s up but it makes my skin a lil green and irritated after like 45 minutes, so that’s kinda bummin’ me out. But we up tho. Lowkey been needing something to cheer me up like lowkey ya boy been goin through it, type shit. Like my therapist says that like, I got GAD and allat so ion really know what that shit means but like apparently it comes from the stress of adapting to that private boarding school my parents made me go to. Yeah, breh so lowkey it’s been hard on a motherfucker forreal. Naw and I can’t even be myself around my friends no-more, type shit. They been bitchin’ on me, tal’m ‘bout, “Dude you can’t say the N-word, you’re white and went to the Hotchkiss preperatory school in Salisbury, Connecticut.” talkin’ all this shit about, “You’re whiter than Woody Allen, stop tryna say that shit, it ain’t cool and frankly, it’s incredibly racist and insensitive.” Yeah whatever bruh. On the low, if I can be honest with y’all, I think I’m like destined for greatness but nobody really ever believed in me. Like, I really ain’t come from nothin. Like before this shit I’m doin right now I had to like, grind bro. I was forced to work to survive, like my dad made me take this job at his work and I only got paid like 40 dollars an hour so I had to quit, type shit. Told my old man, “Pops, I ain’t tryna do this shit. Why do I wanna learn how to manage your software company, I’m a creative, I needa do my own shit.” He ain’t see the vision. Yeah, like, nobody in my life supported me or nothin’ but at least I got this new shit from the Kohl’s so hey, it’s aight forreal.

[carmichealroyals]

PRINCESS GISELLE OF SOBURG COMES OF AGE! 

To mark the birthday of their only daughter, the Duke and Duchess of Soburg today released a brand new portrait of Princess Giselle, who has officially come of age. While she will still be in secondary school at the Winden Preperatory School for Girls alongside her cousin, Princess Natalie of Daven, she will officially be permitted to travel with her parents as representatives of the Crown to foreign engagements. 

For the portrait, HRH wore a long sleeved, off the shoulder teal dress along with her first tiara, the Lotus Flower Tiara, which was a gift to her from her mother for her birthday. A piece cobbled together from various pieces in the family’s collection that are retired, it is the perfect first tiara for the youngest Winden Territories Princess. Her only other piece of jewelry was a golden, heart-shaped locket, which is rumoured to have been a gift from HRH Crown Prince Louis of Melide.

@markinghamroyals 

[krasnoyarsk-nobility]

ENGAGEMENT PORTRAIT OF GRAND DUCHESS MARGOT AND MR. HOWARD MOORE RELEASED

A portrait taken in the East Hall of Peterheiman Palace was released today, showing Grand Duchess Margot with her fiancé, Mr. Howard Moore. HIH has been given a ring inset with a ruby, which she matched with a red dress.

Mr. Howard Moore and Grand Duchess Margot have been friends since childhood, when they met while attending the Shallot Preperatory School. Since then, they have remained especially close. Their romantic relationship began shortly after the death of Grand Duchess Alicetine, and continued throughout the following two years, including the time Mr. Moore spent in the IAF. Reports are that he proposed in the palace gardens, after securing the blessing of Grand Duke George.

Grand Duchess Margot is the eldest child of Empress Margaret and Grand Duke George, and the first of them to get engaged. Mr. Howard Moore is the son of a businessman and his wife, Mr. Alfred Moore Sr. and Mrs. Erna Moore, originally of Forgotten Hallow.

[chaaliapinz]

The Band’s visit High school au: a concept

The band is a marching band from Alexandria Preperatory academy, which is about to cut its marching band program. Tewfiq is their instructor coach dude. 

Everyone else in the band is a kid, except maybe Simon or Camal might be the marching band choreographer person (I have two cousins who do marching band but I don’t do it myself so idk details)

they’re trying to go to a national competition in Petah Tikvah, but they end up in Beit Hatikva (its probably in America bc Marching band and also idk any other countries’s high school workings anyways but suspend disbelief I guess).

Avrum is an English teacher, Itzik is a janitor, and Iris works at the one tiny preschool in town. idk what Sammy does tbh. Maybe he works at the tiny hardware store or smth

Anna, Papi, Julia, and Zegler are kids at tiny underfunded Beit Hatikva high school where there isn’t even a football team.

A fledgling drama club run by Anna is attempting to rehearse and subsequently perform a bare-bones Twelfth Night in the cafeteria by night (again suspension of disbelief) with help from Avrum as their like staff advisor person.

Telephone guy is still telephone guy and also a student bc it’s pre cellphones so there is only one payphone on campus and he guards it all day waiting for his gf who probably goes to school at Fancy Petah Tikvah high school

Dina came from Israel to America to study dance, but after her whole husband mishap ended up working as a cafeteria lady/office desk lady. 

Tewfiq probs came from Egypt to study music so thus all the cultural elements between them remain and stuff

the whole Papi and Julia scene happens in the context of a rehearsal (Anna pressured them into joining drama club bc lack of students)

Papi as Sir Andrew keeps on screwing up his lines toward Julia as Maria who has stage fright and was very miscast. 

At some point Haled jumps into a random scene of play within a play that has nothing to do with the plot of tbv

[crooked-tarot-rp]

Need a Not-So-Lawful Christmas

"Sir, I--I have to apologize. I realize this makes the entire school look bad but please, understand that we had someone here all night. There's no way anyone could have missed someone coming in and doing all of this!" 'This' was vandalism of the highest order. This being a preperatory school, they had prided themselves on their austere decor. That is to say, next to none. The fact was that lavish decorations did nothing to help the students here--rather it was a distraction. They were here to turn young adults into full adults; that meant no grand or colorful decorations. Besides, it's not as if the school was not comfortable. There were full leather sofas in the library, a beautiful study hall with long wooden tables of the highest quality; marble fixtures in the bathrooms, the whole of it. There was no reason for anyone to vandalize this property because it was probably more than most could afford. And the only people that could have gotten in to do such a thing had to be a student within the school itself. Or faculty. And heaven help either of them if the Head Master found out who did it. "You need not be so horribly anxious. Unless you were the one to do this--" he cut his eyes to the assistant, who nervously shook their head 'No'. "Then we've nothing to worry about on your position. What we need to worry about is who did this." "I would suppose it was that Oscar Barton boy. He's always in something he shouldn't be--" the assistant pointed out. "He's far too lazy for something like this--and he doesn't have enough friends to orchestrate something of this magnitude." "I suppose." The pair of them looked around the great hall at the vast array of gaudy, horribly tacky red, greet and white decorations. Bright lights blinked and twinkled, tinsle was strung every which way and not in any sort of tasteful manner--as if simply there to cause more chaos than its presence already created. Along the floors were long, horribly bright red faux-velvet carpets with a white fur trim and the tables were strewn with tiny trees which were, in turn, covered in tiny decorations. "There is little we can do about it now." "S-Should I have the cleaning squad come through and--" "No!" The assistant jumped at the sharpness of the reprisal. The headmaster looked horribly tense in that moment, before he smoothed out his features and sighed. "No. Leave it. I suppose that it could have been far worse. Frankly, we can always leave it for later as a punishment for one of the deliquants." "Y-Yes sir." ============= The headmaster went back to his own office, scowling at every single decoration on the way. Every hall-every gods damned hall, sleeping quarters, library and bathroom were festooned with these horrible decorations. Perhaps if they had been tasteful it wouldn't have made him nearly so angry. Or perhaps if he wasn't forced to leave them up until January 1st. "Damn him, damn him damn him..." The headmaster slammed the door to his office shut behind him, glowering hatefully as his desk where a note had been tacked with a massive sprig of holly. 'Take them down and I'll know. Take them down, and everyone else will know too. XOXO Crooked Tarot'. Attached to the note was a picture of the headmaster's expense report, a long string of highlighted articles pointing out various points of embezzlement directly from the school into 'projects'--the projects didn't exist but instead went directly into the headmaster's various accounts. "DAMN HIM!" ========= "Cause you've grown a little colder! Grown a little sadder! Grown a little older!" Tarot did NOT have a pleasant singing voice. He rarely uneashed it on the world outside of his own bathroom while taking a shower but this time, he simply couldn't help it. As he looked down from his perch on the building where he kept one of his various apartments that were spread across the city, the thief grinned at the school below and his handiwork. The entire building, from top to bottom was coated in Christmas Cheer. It had taken the better part of a night, a little help from amlost all the students and one really big chunk of money for everything but he'd managed to pull it off. The kids deserved something nice--the Academy looked like hell the rest of the year; a University for kids that were at their oldest sixteen. "Kids needed a little Christmas now!" Tarot sang to himself, his voice quiet but still more than capable of peeling paint. Ah well, bad singing or not, good deed done. Only a thousand more to go before Christmas Eve.        

[chaied]

STATISTICS

NAME: mara sabine peterson NICKNAMES: mar, mina AGE: thirty-four D.O.B.: 17 december, 1982 GENDER / SEX: cis female ORIENTATION: demisexual / panromantic

PHYSICAL

HEIGHT: 5'7" WEIGHT: 142 lbs. SKIN COLOR: pale - she spends hours pouring over newspaper & internet articles, over letters & notes; she spends little time in the sun, & prefers overcast days. there are freckles on her cheeks & on her shoulders, remnants of her childhood days when work was not consuming & the summertime seemed the epitome of happiness. EYE COLOR: dark, deep brown - like chocolate, they’re easy to get lost in; if you stare at them long enough, you begin to notice flecks of green along the edges, & how the brown is more varied than you assumed at first glance; they are the eyes of someone who watches, listens, & analyzes, but from time to time there is a spark of mischief. HAIR COLOR: soft brown - dark in the winter and streaked with auburn in the summer, it falls thick & straight, to her shoulder blades. NOTABLE FEATURES: sharp & high cheekbones, an middling sort of figure which is defined by its graceful curves and slim shoulders. FC: rachel weisz

ACOUSTICS

ACCENT: when she was younger, she had an easily distinguishable philadelphia accent, but the prep school smoothed it out - as an adult, inflections from her childhood have crept back in, especially in moments of high & forceful emotion. LANGUAGE(S): english, german, arabic, french, russian, mandarin

POLITIC

ETHNICITY: german, scottish, dutch - her great-grandmother emigrated from scotland, her great-grandfather from germany, to new york city in the late nineteenth century NATIONALITY: american BIRTH PLACE: philadelphia, pennsylvania RESIDENCY: a two-bedroom apartment, brooklyn, new york city, new york; a small one bedroom apartment, bethesda, maryland RELIGION: raised lutheran. currently, a deist of sorts. SCHOOLING: public school in philadelphia, kindergarten thru grade six; grier school, tyrone, pennsylvania, private preperatory school, all girls, grades seven thru twelve UNIVERSITY: bachelor’s degree in comparative literature & literary theory from the university of pennsylvania,  master’s degree in quantitative methods in the social sciences from columbia university OCCUPATION: correspondence analyst & communications consultant for a covert branch of the cia entitled spectre - those are just titles, however. her real job is something akin to a ghostwriter. she provides an operation with the necessary documents, if not readily available. COVER: a ‘writer’ - mostly going blogs and ghostwriting work for a travel agency & various high profile clients.

PSYCHOLOGICAL

HABITS: biting her nails when nervous, running her hands through her hair when stressed or overwhelmed or thinking deeply, ‘zoning out’ when she’s in the midst of her research & envisioning words she’ll write; she smiles when she’s uncomfortable, though it’s a different expression than her grin when she is genuinely happy. MYERS-BRIGGS: intp - the logician ALIGNMENT: true neutral / neutral good ENNEAGRAM: 5w4 TEMPERAMENT: choleric

RELATIONS

IMMEDIATE FAMILY: dietrich peterson | father | alive | sixty-seven years old | resides in philadelphia, pennsylvania.     marilyn peterson née upp | mother | alive | sixty-two years old | resides in philadelphia, pennsylvania. EXTENDED FAMILY:   francis upp | maternal uncle | deceased at age thirty-nine in the year 1997.   sabine neilson née peterson | paternal aunt | alive | sixty-five years old | resides in queens, new york city, new york.   stefan peterson | paternal uncle | alive | sixty-years old | resides in buffalo, new york. OTHER:   evelyn cohen | friend & colleague | thirty years old | agent of spectre.