itsclementime

[itsclementime]

this was the last damn box. the last sad, stuffed to the brim brown box sitting in a sunspot by the empty room she used to share with someone who’d had her fooled for the last year. someone who had shown his true colors multiple times but because of her permanent rose-colored contact lenses, she couldn’t see clearly. 

she took a look around the room, dust settling in the cracks of the floorboards and flurrying down from the curtains she hated. she was leaving them behind. 

a few of her favorite books were stacked haphazardly in the worn box, yellowed and smelling like rainwater. she’d been worried she wouldn’t get her things back but then michael had texted her and said he was moving out of the building because he, “couldn’t stand to be near her anymore.” while normally she would’ve internalized that and thought about it for at least three years, all she could think about was the personalized copy of pride and prejudice her grandfather had given her for her eighteenth birthday. 

to my darling clementine on her 18th birthday,  you’ll learn something new with each read. treasure your perspective. i do. love, grandad 

she rested the box on her hip and walked out of the sun soaked room, closing the door behind her. the living room was still partially full of benji’s stuff, michael’s (former) roommate who was still living in the mostly barren apartment. she set it down by the door in preparation for one last departure.

clem filled a glass up with water and took a drink before hoisting herself up on the kitchen counter one last time. “sorry i made michael move out, benj,” she said, kicking her feet back and forth. her heels made light contact with the worn cabinets. “not really my intention.” 

[itsclementime]

benjifosters‌:

@itsclementime​

one might think that in his drunken state, benjamin would at least be able to locate his own apartment. there’s merely a handful of units on his particular floor, yet he stumbles up the stairs just to greet his landing dumbfounded. quiet laughs bubble from his lips, directed at himself. oh, you idiot. you’ve gone and taken it way too far again. fumbling with his phone, he tries to call penelope, to no avail. it’s at this point he drops to the floor with a dramatic thump, deciding that if he can’t reach his bed, he’ll sleep right here in the corridor. what’s the worst that could happen? — he brings his knees from underneath him and lies down on his back, staring up at the offputting, dim, yellowy ceiling lights before directing his gaze to the nearest door. way too high of a number. fuck! wrong floor. he’s slowly making his way onto his feet again, everything seeming to move in slow motion until the door in question swings open— 

“clem?” rubbing tired eyes, benji sways in his stance before placing his hand against the nearest wall to steady himself. “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes..!” he beams, flashing her a cheshire grin, the smell of beer still fresh on his breath. “funny story, girlie — i can’t find my apartment. never let me drink again, my head hurts already— augh.” inebriated, he’s not fully convinced he’s even talking to her in the first place. maybe she’s just a figment of his alcohol-induced imagination. “can… i come in and sit down?”

all clementine wants is a nice, quiet nice to herself with an entire pizza and a can of wine from the corner store. a few of her favorite episodes of television sit in her netflix queue, speakers on and laying in wait for her big, relaxing night at home. the sounds of the city swirl down below her and waft up into her open window, carrying the smells of the bakery tucked underneath her unit. while normally this night would hold citywide adventures with her friends, getting into every pocket of mischief they could possibly find, clem feels the introverted side of her brain tugging on her arm tonight, pulling her down into the comfort of her couch. 

until there’s a thump just outside her door followed by a groan that sounds all too familiar this late at night. 

she opens the door to find benji swaying in front of her apartment, alcohol oozing from every pore on his body. clem leans against her door frame, arms crossed over her chest as she stares at him with her eyebrows raised high. “benji, benji, benji,” she clicks her tongue and shakes her head like a disappointed mother. of course she didn’t care if he comes inside--frankly, even when she wants a night alone she doesn’t really want a night alone. “it’s no wonder you can’t find your apartment. you’re four floors too high, benj.” 

slinging an arm around his shoulders and attempting to hold him up in his drunken stupor, she helps him inside and all but drops him onto her corduroy yellow couch. “smells like you’ve had an eventful night,” she says after filling him a glass of water and setting it on the table next to him. sitting down next to him and leaning back into the plush cushions, clem already knows this will be a long night. “i’d offer you a beer but...seems like you’ve got that covered already.” 

[itsclementime]

dailydeutch‌:

zoeydeutch: The human waits for the espresso to kick in.

[itsclementime]

“Tips to prevent mood swings: avoid caffeine, alcohol and sugary foods” that’s me diet tho mate

[itsclementime]

clementine st clair: real estate princess

( ZOEY DEUTCH / FEMALE / TWENTY-FIVE / SHE/HER ) i always seem to run into CLEMENTINE ST. CLAIR at jukebox records. i’ve heard that if the REGULAR CUSTOMER had to choose one go-to record, it’d be VIENNA by BILLY JOEL and that they can be CAPTIVATING but also kind of SELF-DESTRUCTIVE. for some reason, they always make me think of FLOWERS PRESSED BETWEEN OLD BOOK PAGES, RED WINE IN SOLO CUPS, AND FRENCH VANILLA CAPPUCCINOS. — ( kate, 25, pst, she/her )

hi! i’m kate! i’m 25 years old and hold chaotic scorpio energy. i write far too much and develop plots/relationships so deep even samara couldn’t crawl out of the well they’re held in. i live in los angeles, ca but hail from oklahoma so i go a little southern sometimes. i also have ms rory as a character~! without further ado, here is my sweet clementine!

clementine was born on august 4th, 1994 to james and melanie st. clair. she was a miracle child for her mother at age 37 and the only child to be born to her two parents. she’s always wanted a sister, but her parents never entertained that idea.

she grew up in a million different places. her father owns multiple apartment buildings all over the city and they’ve hopped from place to place, as he likes to be present amongst his tenants. it is less of a kind gesture and more of a Big Brother gesture—he craves control, which he exerts in every way possible over his only daughter.

clementine used to liken herself to a caged bird—always admired, but never allowed to fly. even now at 25, she feels like she is often trapped in her father’s iron grasp.

she was given everything she wanted, called “the little princess” and doted on by anyone who came into the house. it gave her a bit of a big head when she was younger, but made her restless as she got older. she’s used to getting what she wants, but doesn’t like to be doted on.

clem has tried to run away from home at least 10 times and been brought back each time. the longest she lasted was a week at a friend’s house when she was 16. her father sent her to an all girls’ boarding school for the last two years of high school and that was her last attempt.

when she’s stressed out, she puts on her headphones and goes to sit in the cafe for hours on end and re-reads pride and prejudice.

though the apartments above jukebox are the most popular amongst her dad’s properties, it’s his least favorite. which makes it clementine’s favorite property and the one she chose to live in when he gave her a choice of properties. it was the smallest amongst the apartments, but ensured her father would come around less and that’s what she wanted.

clementine has never had a real job. she’s worked at a few random places here and there for a few weeks at a time, but it interfered with her social calendar and she couldn’t put up with that for too long.

she wants desperately to be friends with the jukebox staff but often convinces herself that they won’t see her the way they see their coworkers and regulars because of her uptight father. this is especially true with the tenants of the apartment building who have experienced his temper flares.

clementine loves to paint. she wanted to go to school for studio art but her father wanted her to go for business management, so she compromised and went for business management. she spends a lot of her free time sitting at the park and practicing different mediums.

her favorite comfort foods are chinese takeout (orange chicken and chow mein or beef and broccoli) and homemade spaghetti. she’s tried a million ways to make it herself but she’s never been able to perfect it—she’s a terrible cook.

she has never been in a relationship longer than 3 months. she gets bored very easily, especially with boys. she loves to play.

(TW: alcohol) clementine often likes to drink herself silly. she’s not honest with herself nor the people around her and she’s found that drinking opens her up to her feelings and emotions more. when she feels she really needs to open up to someone, she’ll show up to their place with alcohol.

clem loves thrift shopping. her entire wardrobe is made up of recycled pieces, mostly from the 1970s, as that’s her favorite silhouette and color palette to work with.

ok basically clem is a headstrong princess who wants to be treated like a regular girl but often has a hard time acting like one. she’s argumentative and has a short fuse with people she knows, but friendly to those she doesn’t. deep down, she’s a lonely little rich girl who desperately wants friendships that go beyond the surface level.