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#i am a bitch what loves a rainbow

fernlessbastard · 1 month

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hot take moment cwilbur is literally just psychotic as all hell and i think people got way too comfortable villianizing the shit out of a man who was clearly portraying signs of severe mental illness. cwilbur was like im so fucking paranoid and scared and i think everyone is out to get me and hurt me and ive spiralled to the point i cant reach out to the people closest to me because im so afraid and lost in this spiral and im having constant panic attacks and hurting myself because i dong know what to do with myself and the only way out for me is to die. and everybody was like EVIL MAN WHO ENJOYS HURTING OTHERS AND IS ABUSIVE ON PURPOSE AND A VILLAIN AND SHOULD NEVER BE TRUSTED AGAIN. and then he came back and was like im still deeply troubled and afraid but im desperately trying to make up for the wrongs i did in the past and the people i hurt in my own way and communication is really hard for me but i hope people know that im truely sorry and i love them. im going to try my hardest to fix this in the only way i know how and then respectfully remove myself from the situation because i feel thats the kindest thing i can do to the people ive hurt. and people were like ABUSER ABUSER ABUSER EVIL MAN ABUSER. like girl

Yeah no based true real no questions asked

I'd hope I manage to portray Wilbur the way he deserves in my content, cause that man is heavily bpd coded and he just needs therapy and someone who genuinely loves him but also can handle his bullshit (which has exclusively and reliably been Quackity like, canonically)

But yeah no completely agreed. The man has issues and has definitely fucked up a lot but at the end of the day he really does need love and care and patience, but also boundaries (and therapy and meds, obviously)

#i deeeefinitely have no reason to have strong feelings about bpd bitches deserving love and care and stability ha ha nooo it's definitely-#-not like I've been dating one for well over 4 years now and even though we've been through so much shit together and I still can't-#-understand why people with bpd and conditions that have similar symptoms are so demonised. It just makes no sense to me.#my bf is the love of my life and i can't imagine /not/ supporting it through all the splitting and episodes and all of that cause they're-#-absolutely worth everything #i don't know not to be too gay on main but tbf it's too late now anyway i think--#is it unstable? sure. but it's also the most caring and loving person i've ever been close with and it always makes sure i'm ok #and it loves me so undeniably deeply no matter what purely for who i am #i've never had anyone care about me this much and this genuinely and this unconditionally - it'd always be what /they/ can get out of /me/#but my boyfriend just cares about me - the actual me - no matter if i'm acting how it imagined i'd act. what matters is if i'm /me/#listen bpd isn't sunshine and rainbows - we've been through some TERRIBLE shit (including s-cide attempts)#but when people claim it makes a relationship toxic/abusive it's so stupid cause ultimately with mutual love support and reassurance-#-and professional help you can have a genuinely happy and healthy life with someone with bpd #love isn't mean to be easy. it's meant to be safe and supportive and genuine but a relationship always takes effort and work on both sides #you should never sacrifice your well being of course!#but when love takes effort and extra care it doesn't inherently mean it's unhealthy or toxic or abusive. it just means you're people.#tldr if you love someone then don't care about some diagnosis - care about the actual perso.#ask #asks #ask fern #tntduo #dsmp #tnt duo #wilbur soot #quackity #quackbur #dream smp #tntblr #c!quackbur #c!tntduo

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wp-blaze · 3 days

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What are the key features of great songs?

I’m in the midst of learning ‘Clair de Lune’ at the moment, and I’ve already gone past the ‘I love this music’ part. I don’t know about you, but when […]

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inf3ct3dd · 5 months

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streamer!ellie pt.2

summary: i hated the other one of this that i made, so REMAKE TIEM!!!

warnings: miiinor sexual content, shit talking, gay people 😒

authors note: heheheh ples don’t flop this time..

- during her faceless days, she opened up a po box so ppl could send her things, and she made an amazon wishlist and she unboxed stuff on stream 😍😍

- one day she was unboxing a giant box of cat toys. string, those little feather stick things, even that weird automatic flapping fish thing (that she secretly loves and taped to her back one time)

- she was playing with this one toy that was a little fishing reel, and it had string and a little fish on the bottom. she went on and onnn about how shes a self proclaimed “fishing master” while garf chased it around, letting out little meows and growls of frustration.

- eventually, she lost her grip and let go of the pole. she bent down to pick it up, forgetting that her face would be in view. thus, the chat started blowing up.

ewwwbruh: FACE REVEAL

ewwife: EW WE CAN SEE UR FACE

ewwife: JUST THE SIDE BUT WE CAN SEE YOUU

ewssidechick: her nose looks so rideable…

- she got distracted petting garfield, and didn’t realize anything until she stood up. she was getting tagged over and over again on twitter, blurry pictures of her face (curtesy of the shitty webcam) circulating through her subreddit.

- “guys. im gonna erase this from ur memory…” and she literally held up this goofy ass hypnotizer pendelum and started fake hypnotizing everyone like “that never happenedddd” “you don’t know what i look likeeee” “that was fakeeee” “chat that was not reallll”

- and everyone literally js went along with it and pretended it never happened. like ppl were tweeting about it and everyone was like “huh??? what are u talking about bruh??”

- she did the same thing after falling off her rainbow unicorn scooter 😞

- one time she revealed that the “ew” in her username stood for her initials, and everyone was making the most horrendous guesses. elliam willace being the favorite one.

- “guys, my name is not edward wilson??? i am…not a man”

- shes gotten into so much drama…multiple notes app apologies have been issued via her instagram story.

- people would ask her opinions on other streamers, and she’d literally just be like “…i have no idea who that is.” and people would get so MADDDD but homegirl is literally just blatantly unaware

- or she would know , and would literally be like “they’re honestly super annoying and i would rather kill myself than watch them but whatever floats ur boat ig!”

- she played that “womp womp womp womppp” sound effect on her soundboard afterwards.

- SPEAKING OF. she abuses that soundboard sooo much. its so obnoxious and annoying like I SWEARRR!!! she’ll tell a horrible pun and play the crowd laughing and cheering sound effects while literally no one laughed.

“guys. whats the best way to watch a fly fishing tournament??”

“…live streaming.”

(crowd cheering sound effect)

“nooo thank you thank you, you’re all too kind, really!!”

- meanwhile chat was dead silent.

- every time she gets to choose her own name on a game its some dumb shit like "jizzmaster" or "chris fucker"

- “it appears you have entered innapropriate content.” “OHHH LOOK AT EPISODE LOOK AT THESE CORPORATE BIGWIGS TRYING TO CONTROL THE LITTLE MAN???”

- she just ended up naming him “chris phucker”

- like when she played episode on stream and made up really annoying voices for all the characters and made her character look like an elderly man, and made the love interest look like you 😍😍

- she messes up sm on games when she streams normally, but when you're there? she is LOCKED THE FUCK IN. sitting there so focused the entire time just to show off

- whenever she randomly goes silent she just starts SINGING. it's either nicki minaj or some fucking fnaf song

"IS THIS THE THANKS THAT I GET FOR PUTTING U BITCHES ON???"

- speaking of, her favorite fnaf song is def “stay calm” cuz she loves saying “hey kids. Nice to eat ya.”

- bought one of those "i paused my game to be here" tshirts…ironically. you refuse to let her wear it in public

- beefs w kids on fortnite sm... she has definitely gotten banned for saying she was gonna bomb a kids house or fuck their mom 😞

- every time she plays a game, she'll literally sit there and watch an 8 hour long video about the lore. she'll plop down on the couch and watch it like a movie

"did you know everyone actually thought that fnaf one took place in 1993, but it was actually 1992?"

- she definitely had you sit next to her when she played through fnaf because she was lowk scared the entire time whenever she heard you walking around the house while she was playing she'd hear footsteps in the hallway and be like. WHAT THE FUCKKK

-she'd have you right next to her, laying your head on her shoulder and messing with her free hand. if you fell asleep, she would be sitting there slapping her hand over her mouth whenever she gets jumpscared bc she doesn't want you to wake up 😞

- sometimes, while she streams , she plays one handed games and lets you sit and draw on her arm for fun. even got you a whole set of those skin markers so u could go ABSOLUTELY HAM. she got one drawing you did that said “r + e 4eva” tattooed in ur handwriting…such a sap

- she loves watching fan edits of herself...AND OF YOU. she'll be on her burner account with a whole collection on tiktok of edits of you.

ewwsbiggestfan: shes so bad i want her to hit me w her car...

- speaking of. imagine her using that account to make shitty capcut edits of you like

- shes ur biggest fan ongod

-WHILE WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF “fans”…what if i made a completely new origin story for streamer!ellie and reader. what if they were both streamers….

- OKAY SO BASICALLY.

- you had started streaming about a year before ellie did. butttt, you two did very different types of streaming.

- you weren’t very into like, SERIOUS video games. sure, you played some stuff, like animal crossing and roblox and the sims, but nothing more than that.

- that wasn’t what you were streaming though.

- ever since you were younger, you had been wayyyy into…literature.

-by literature i mean fanfiction. heaps of it.

- actors, anime characters, BOOK CHARACTERS, you were in DEEP

- sometimes, for fun, you used to read them out loud in stupid voices. when you were alone, or with your friends, it was very entertaining

- that’s when you got the idea to start streaming it. if it could entertain your friends, and you, whos to say it wouldn’t entertain other people.

- well, it definitely did. in your first year, you hit 10k followers. people loved you. theyd make edits of you, send in requests of fics for you to read, everything.

- a while later, ellie started gaining more and more popularity. out of all the incomes of fame, fanfiction was the most. abundant!

- one day, you got a request to read an ellie x reader fic. at the time, you barely had any idea who she was, but you decided to just go with it 🤞🏽

- “who the fuck is elliam willace???”

- the fanfic was definitely very…graphic!

- “your hips rolled onto her thigh, her slender, tattooed hand palming at your waist. ‘you’re doing so good babe, fuck.’-“ “GUYS. ISN’T SHE NOT ON MUTE RIGHT NOW???”

- you couldn’t help but giggle the rest of the fic, feeling a nagging heat in your core. you didn’t even know who the girl was, but if this fic was accurate, someone would have to sedate you.

-“im actually. gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure. GUYS. who is this woman…is she real… if she is. things are about to get WICKED.”

- not very thankful to you at the moment, she was very real. apparently, you and her were streaming at the same time, and your followers raided her stream telling her she was reading about you. her curiosity was obviously piqued, and why would she NOT join the stream?

- creeperewman: im definitely real!

- the text on your screen literally made your stomach fall into your ass. you stood up and legit just walked out of the room, camera still on. was she there the whole time???

- creeperewman: aww 😞 where’d she go she’s so badddd

- you eventually returned after a minute of calming yourself down, and low and behold, she gifted you 100 subs and followed you on instagram.

- she was definitely very real!! and that fanfic was…lore accurate. to say the least 😊

- after you two started dating, the two of you would often show up on eachothers streams. ellie, teaching you how to play cod, and you, reading with her.

- she secretly loves reading the fics people write about her and making fun of them, and every time you stream with her shes “subtly” hinting that you should read about her

sitting there pulling on her collar, looking away like “gee, wonder who you’re gonna pick today” with the worst fake laugh ever.

- “ellie can barely ride a scooter, idk why she’s in the mafia rn…” “you fall off ONE TIME and all of a sudden you cant ride a scooter. bullshit.”

- she makes fun of all the dumb pet names like “babygirl” and “darling” and randomly calls you them and bursts out laughing

- you still read those fics when you’re bored sometimes. and ellie MERCILESSLY makes fun of you for it

“yknow, if you missed me that bad, you should’ve just told me.”

#streamer!ellie #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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powderblueblood · 20 days

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HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER ELEVEN — ALL TOMORROW'S KEGGERS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: after you visit an old stomping ground to pad out your college resume and eddie agonizes about the what of what are you, you both return to the place where all this mess began--a classic harrington rager. content warnings: written in the immersive second person (you/yours), oc has a name, background and she/her pronouns but no physical descriptions. era typical misogyny, homophobia, general bad bitch scheming. mentions of drug dealing, sexual situations and strong language. minors fuck off. word count: 8.7k

Dear reader,

A while ago, I mentioned that thing that Joan Didion said about staying on nodding terms with the people we used to be.

Lucky for me and my once-fervent need to be inviolable from all angles, I have a couple of versions of Lacy I can choose from.

Depends on what I need from her.

The hot sprawl of the community hall drags your sense memory kicking and screaming back to age sixteen.

Scarlet nails tugged a rough line through your scalp, elevating your hair so high it might as well apply for zoning permission. An acrid blast of Aquanet settled right in your bottom lashes. Your mother loomed over your shoulder in the mirror, her cigarette ashing into some poor bitch’s retainer case.

“The way they run these things nowadays… it’s a disgrace,” she tutted, but not to you, “These girls are animals.”

That’s gotta be a fucking fire hazard, right?

“Well, if Lacy’s an animal,” a flame haired Ann Perkins guffawed, yanking a backcombed rat of your hair upwards—ow, “she’s a goddamn gazelle, Glory.”

“First kill?” You didn’t miss the smugness curling around her Elizabeth Arden lips, hunching your body glittered arms inward.

“No—god, no, I just mean with how graceful she is. My Carol, bless her heart, she’s got the coordination of her father after a slab of Old Milwaukee. You remember I told you about trying to teach her baton?”

“She sent it flying through the neighbour’s windshield,” you giggled fondly, recalling Carol telling you how much of a stupid cooze her mom was for trying to teach her in the first place. ‘Throwing some stick around—who does she think I am, Lassie?’

“Don’t smile,” your mom slapped your shoulder sharply, “It’ll smudge your gloss.”

You scrubbed it off in the bathroom moments later, reapplying a layer of scarlet lacquer you knew she’d call whorish. Too late.

Knocking back a swig of Diet Coke and two rainbow pills, you took the stage to claim runner up in the Hawkins division of the American Teen Princess pageant, meeting Gloriana’s seething scowl from the audience with your own Vaselined failure of a smile.

The lipstick had lost you the crown, of course. That was the winning theory. ‘If you’d have just done what I told you…’

The chemical sting of Aquanet still hurts your eyes, but you’re not the target this time.

See, a portfolio of writing is one thing, but the other thing that college applications generally look for is community participation. Volunteer work. Charity grubbing. And gracing Eddie Munson’s lunch table with your occasional presence apparently doesn’t count.

Just kidding. Kind of.

Point is, you needed something quick and dirty, yet passably prestigious, with people who would bend to your will. And there’s no one more malleable than insecure high school girls competing in a beauty pageant in small town Indiana.

“Now, Lacy, we are delighted to have you here helping out,” says Claudia Henderson, a one time multi-title holder (just short of Miss America apparently—‘But then they stopped giving homely girls a pass; poor Claudia never stood a chance,’ your mom had told you) and the kind of kindly woman that loves to clutch your arm while you walk.

Ordinarily, you’d be repulsed by such a gesture but you’re desperate.

Before you get a chance to gush falsely, tell her how grateful you are for the opportunity, Claudia cuts you off.

“But I do hope that this isn’t some covert effort by your mother to get back in our good books—because, golly, well, that bridge is burned!”

Of course. Your mom had attempted to sabotage Tammy Thompson’s performance portion by mixing a laxative into her milkshake, because a shit show like that would make your little poetry reading look positively Carnegie worthy. But she hadn’t covered her tracks well enough and got sniffed out by the pageant committee. So had Tammy, poor thing. Horrible day to wear white chiffon.

Incredible that it was that they were still hung up on, and not the… everything else you and your family had going on. You do a decent impression of cringing, looking at Claudia with mournful eyes.

“Claudia, I swear, this is all me,” you assure her, “The time I spent doing pageant prep was just so formative—I think I would’ve been a lot worse off facing, well, certain challenges without it. I’d really like the chance to give that back to the girls.”

Admittedly, your hours spent in front of the mirror training your face to look earnest for the interview portion hadn’t gone to waste on the stand during your father’s trial.

“That is just incredible to hear, sweetie. And between you and I, you’re really saving our keisters because the girl we had helping our hopefuls out with speech prep dropped out last minute!”

That’d be the current debate team captain, Kate something-or-other. She was easy enough to take out—posing as a concerned member of the local Christian youth group, you’d placed a call to her ultra-conservative parents about her hanging out with Billy Hargrove. Which was total bullshit, of course. Billy wouldn’t approach an ex-or-current band geek with a hazmat suit on. A shame, really. The band kids were the only niche that could rival Billy’s baseless horniness. His dream girl could be hanging out behind a trombone someplace, squeezing her knees together.

Anyway, did you feel great about selling Kate out like that? Honestly, you didn’t care about it too much one way or another. The maneuvre felt very classic Lacy, which was in part a little shameful and in part incredibly satisfying to know that, when it comes to manipulation, you’re still batting at a professional level.

Claudia wheels you and your elbow around the room, the oxygen thick with sweat and body spray and pageant application forms. A couple of the would-be queens catch your eye–homely girls, as your mother would call them, who were duped into their well-meaning parentals or sisters or guidance counselors into thinking that doing the pageant was a great way to make friends. A boost to their self esteem. A chance to really show the town what they’re made of!

Someone should tell them to run, but it’s not gonna be you.

“Oh, Lacy!” Claudia suddenly half-shrieks, halting you with a sharp tug, “Meet my special little guy! This is Dustin, he goes to Hawkins Middle. I like to bring him around to meet the girls so he learns how to treat a lady. It’s so important for boys, don’t you think?”

Yeah, start the little lotharios young. You tilt your chin in acknowledgment of the kid, who squints at you from under the rim of a ball cap. Claudia’s attention is diverted by some other poor bastard helping to organize this dog and pony show, but she keeps her hand firmly on your elbow. It’s starting to feel a little like you’re being led around the prison yard. You attempt a tight smile at her son, who’s still looking you up and down.

“Hey, I know you!” he barks– seems like lack of volume control runs in the family, “You’re Nancy’s friend. You slept over at the weekend. I’m Mike’s friend? I ate the green peppers off your pizza slice…? Not ringin’ any bells? Really?”

“Oh, right,” you lie, having no recollection of ever meeting this child, “Pleasure, sure.”

The way he’s surveying you is a little much. “So, what was up with that guy?” he asks you, tone dropping conspiratorially. You don’t know why, but you feel like middle schoolers shouldn’t be able to do that.

“Excuse me?”

“Me and the guys saw some scary dude climbing out of Nancy’s window. Is he–”

What’s up with kids and just having to say any old thing? What happened to being seen and not heard? What happened to being intimidated by your high school elders? If his mother wasn’t standing right next to you, you’d flip that little propeller cap off his head and tell him to go fetch.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The kid cocks his head to the side. “Positive? Because it sure looked like–”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. –Justin, wow, you’re such a card, ha ha ha,” you slip your arm out of Claudia’s as subtly as a woman breaking into a cold sweat can, “Claudia, I’ve got to dash unfortunately, but you’ve got my number! Let me know when I can come and meet with the girls, won’t you? I’m so excited.”

You’re so absolutely fucking not.

Footsteps burn a hot trail through that creaking hall, not quite avoiding a couple of stares as you flit past. Of course, since Ray’s great return brought a whole new batch of grist for the Hawkins’ rumor mill, you’d been subject to more whispers than usual. Any move you made was in some way looped back to either groveling for the town’s forgiveness, assuming your father’s criminal crown, or generally being a case for pity or ridicule. Sometimes both, if people were really creative. Stood to reason that the only person you want to see is someone who’s lived with notoriety like that for most of their life.

Ivana has parked across two spots in front of the community hall, her green Buick gleaming under an unseasonable glare of sunlight. It’s still far too cold to have the top down like she does but she does and she sits bundled in the front seat. A leopard print fur coat, a cigarette, a pair of sunglasses perched in her platinum beehive.

“Christ, girlie, I thought they’d tied you to the stake in there.”

“My escape was narrow, as always,” you smirk, sliding into the passenger seat and tugging your own coat around you a little tighter. “What’s up with the exposure?”

“Feeling the wind whip your face is good for you, especially when you spend most of the day craned over books like you do.”

“This coming from the owner of the biggest bookstore in town.”

“Only,” Ivana corrects you, as she so often does, “Only bookstore in town. You saw what happened when B. Dalton tried to muscle in on my territory.”

“You admitting to knowing something about that mall’s fiery end, Ivana?” Horseshit bombs and the Russian mafia come to mind, but Ivana just cackles loudly and tears out of the parking lot at breakneck speed.

The frigid sting of wind on your face does feel fantastic, you have to hand it to her. Resetting your base temperature from boiling, where it’s rocketed between school and home and Eddie and everything. Much as it’s thrilling, exploring this new aspect of your… dynamic with him, on top of everything else, it’s a lot.

You’re not quite ready to classify your feelings about Eddie without your chest feeling like it’s going to cave in. Every other conversation winds up with your hands all over each other, clumsy in the communication of your unrepressed passion. And it is great, don’t let yourself be misunderstood, you crave it when it’s not happening, and boy do you beat yourself up when you stop it from going all the way but…

The tape keeps getting tangled. Like you’re playing the right song at the wrong part of the movie. It keeps coming out warped and rushed, and you keep feeling like somebody is watching you two.

You two don’t belong shoved into clandestine corners, making out on the sly. You’d been hiding the things that you care about in places like that your whole life. Your books and records under your bed, your clothes in the back of your walk-in wardrobe. Your thoughts in your journal. Your real face from your fake friends.

Eddie’s like a great, flowering plant that has spread his curling vines into every facet of your life, taking root right at the center.

He may not know it, he may be playing the part of being very understanding but he demands light and care. And dirt.

It scares you.

But that tearing breeze settles your nerves, and those are rarely settled around Ivana herself. She has a preternatural way about her. She knows just when to step out of the shadows and twist fate so your path gets a refresh. First, your job at the Bookstore. Now, letting you into her inner sanctum.

Brambles clatter against the green paintwork of the car as you careen down a backroad off of Holland. Gravel sprays as Ivana hauls you up her drive and you catch a fresh smell– to your immediate right, you’re looking out on the still, chilled expanse of Lover’s Lake. You breathe in that post-winter thaw, curling your wistful hands over the passenger side door and she seems to notice.

“Hell of a view, right?”

The slam of Ivana hip-checking her car door closed is the loudest sound out here.

“Peaceful,” you remark, following her up the sagging wooden porch. Another look over your shoulder. You were used to seeing Lover’s Lake from another part of the embankment, usually crowded with cars and beer coolers, bodies in bathing suits baying for attention. You’d been one once, trying desperately to look comfortable in your sweltering skin only to sneak off and take shelter in Main Street Vinyl.

The frigid water seemed more inviting right now.

Another house, this total slouch of a place, stares right at you from across the lake.

“Nice neighbors?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Ivana says, shoving the ancient front door open.

Following her inside, you have to suppress a gasp.

Ivana’s house is no mansion, but the way she’s filled it makes it feel like one. Under vaulted ceilings, everything seems to be cast in a rich, aquatic shadow. Tendrils of greenery embrace each corner and even hang from the ceilings. Threadbare rugs of once-moneyed origin muffle you underfoot. Chairs of velvet sag and every single goddamned surface is covered in tchotchkes, magazines, scarves, photographs. Even the Steiner piano. You catch a glimpse of the pictures in gilded frames as you slowly follow Ivana toward the back of the house–Ivana with equally glamorous looking friends, dancing at what you’re sure is Studio 54. Ivana standing next to Andy Warhol, a disgruntled looking Norman Mailer lingering in the background of the shot. Ivana on her wedding day. And second wedding day. And third wedding day.

Your chest throbs furiously.

You hear Ivana creek up the stairs and you’re not quite sure what the proper procedure is here– do you follow her? Would she push you back down the stairs if you tried such a thing? She’s always seemed like the type. Fiercely private. Only sharing the tiniest tidbits of this rich meal of a life she lived before she came back to Hawkins.

“Come on, girlie. I ain’t got all day.”

You take your opportunity and scarper up the stairs behind her. Eyes flit over even more photographs as you ascend, a smile of disbelief crossing your lips at the sawn-off shotgun mounted on her wall. Like she’s Annie Oakley or somebody. She could be. It’s evident to you now that Ivana has been just about everyone there is to be. It ought to intimidate you, really, bearing witness to someone who’s so successfully lived life before you’ve even begun to, but it doesn’t. The closeness, clutteredness, coziness of this house lulls you into a funny kind of serenity.

“I just don’t get you, Ivana,” you say, not entirely wanting to catch her in earshot as you float into her bedroom. Dark and plush, like everything else. A light comes on in her overstuffed closet.

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Of course, she hears everything.

You approach the heaving wardrobe, hands running along silk, chiffon, velvet. Broderie, brocade, lace.

“How the hell do you go from having a full life like this,” you grip the sleeve of what could be one of Ivana’s three wedding dresses, “and end up back in East Jesus, Indiana? I mean you’ve–you’ve been everywhere. You’ve done everything. How can you stand it here?”

Ivana tilts her head at you from where she sits on the ottoman at the end of her bed. Canopy, naturally. She looks at you as if really taking you in for the first time. You shift a little, from one foot to the other. It doesn’t feel probing and accusatory, not like how your mother looks at you. More like she’s reading your palm.

“I wanted to come home,” she says, simply. “Had my fill. Got tired. Wanted to remember what fresh air felt like, and realized I preferred it to car horns.”

“But why not, like… upstate New York? Somewhere actually scenic and peaceful, why Hawkins, Indiana?”

“I wanted to come home, I said. Now,” she gestures to the masses of clothes, “You’ve got ten minutes. One outfit. Dig.”

—

“This is, like, beat for beat my worst fucking nightmare, I want you to know that.”

“You know what, shoot me down but I think you wanna go to this–I think you’re getting nervous because of how excited you are!”

Ronnie Ecker aims a finger gun right between Eddie’s eyes. “Name yourself, body snatcher. Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my best friend.”

She’s got him point blank on that one. He’s acting a little out of sorts–but, in his defense, he’s having, as Rick Lipton might call it, a total wig out. Eddie’s been invited to Steve Harrington’s kegger under absolutely no pretense (but he’s bringing a pocketful of drugs anyway, of course). Eddie’s going to see the (ex) most popular girl in school there, which’d be you.

And Dio willing, you two are gonna disappear into some side room where he’s gonna trace his leaking cock against every inch of your silky, perfumed skin while you hiss his name into the air like it’s the only word you deem worthy enough to speak.

It’s fine. It’s cool. It’s casual.

Eddie tries to shake that thought right out his head under the guise of turning to the mirror and fixing his hair. Fingertips raking into the waves, an attempt to make ‘em look less… or more… he’s got no idea. He’s got no earthly idea. So he huffs.

“What have I got to be excited about?!” Ronnie sighs dramatically, thunking herself into the nearby armchair in Eddie’s room that’s covered in clothes–outfits he’s tried on, like a different jeans-and-t-shirt combination will actually make a difference. “Don’t pretend like I’m not hauling ass to the first party of my high school career so I can be, like, a freak diversion while you two sneak off and–”

Amazing how Eddie’s managed to keep this secret from Ronnie for this long, but she’s got it pretty much sniffed out anyway.

“No clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You, Eddie Munson, you’re gonna stand there, preening yourself in the mirror like a fuckin’ peacock telling me the eye contact you two have been making with each other since you ‘made up’ has been completely Christian-minded? Smell test certified?” Ronnie spits. “I just got into New York University, you little bitch! I cannot be fooled! You boinked and it’s scrawled all over your face in her lipstick!”

“Dude, do not say boinked–”

“You’ve greeted her carnally!”

“--who are we, Sam and Diane?”

“If everybody knows your name, man!”

Look, here’s the thing.

You and Eddie have been making out heavy, stolen moments in crooks like the newspaper room after hours, under the bleachers, the decommissioned bathroom, the driver’s seat of Eddie’s van, grinding it out harder than a couple of drumline dorkos from band which has led to Eddie wrecking a couple pairs of boxers a lot sooner than he’d like to. (Which you hadn’t laughed at him about–you’d liked it. It was so fucking hot that you liked it that just the thought of you liking it makes his breath snag if he thinks about it too hard.)

But. Skin-to-skin contact has been… frustratingly minimal, since that night in your bedroom.

See, it’s like, you get there. Eddie’s lips are edging south of your collarbone, his fingers digging into the flush of your tits through your bra and something snaps in you. You go from rolling those rapturous hips into him (god, fuck, don’t–) to tensing right up, looking over your shoulder, expecting to see a door creaking open.

Fear freezing the edges of your features, even if your touch is still hot on him.

“We should–” “... yeah. Yeah. Of course, Lace.” Eddie’s trying really hard not to be an asshole. But it’s hard when… you’re hard. And you, you get him fucking full mouth salivating, forged in the flames of Mount Doom hard. Those tight little skirts you wear are so much more enticing now that he knows what the heavenly enclave feels like underneath them.

Bu-ut.

Your paranoia is working overtime.

Your paranoia is making his paranoia work overtime.

Because, what if after all your dancing around each other, you don’t actually want him and you’ve got no idea how to let him down gently?

Which, Eddie reassures himself, does not track for you. It’d be pretty damn easy to think that your edges have softened with the events of the past couple months, but he’s had a front row seat to how you’ve shed your old edges to reveal different, weirder, more jagged edges. Edges he’s had a pleasure acquainting himself with. You’d have no problem telling him to take a short walk off Sattler’s Quarry if you wanted to.

Eddie adores that about you, the poor sucker.

Anyway, Ronnie Ecker. Dead to rights. Like always.

“If I tell you…” comes the measured grit through his teeth. “... you have to swear, Ronnie, I’m so goddamn serious–”

She hitches forward in her seat, eyes blazing. “Dude. Scouts. Whatever.”

Eddie’s shoulders drop and it all comes out in one big exhale as his rings drag down his cheeks, “GoodbecauseI’vebeenwantingtotellyousobadohmyGOD. Like, oh my god.”

“So full pen or–”

“Be a gentleman, Ecker, Jesus! But yeah, home fuckin’ run.”

“Good?”

His eyes careen back in his skull and he pitches his palms out like a Pentecostal preacher. “Words… evade. Infernal choirs sang. I left a part of my soul in her–”

“Nope, too much!” Ronnie blanches, waving her hands in the air.

“Okay, okay, okay, but Ronnie– you can’t say shit to her. Promise me.”

“Why? We’re friends too, unless you conveniently forgot again.”

“No, I know that, I just–” Eddie swallows, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. His voice comes out small. “I don’t wanna scare her off. She’s fragile.

“She’s fragile? We’re talking about the same Lacy Doevski here, right?”

“Right, the one whose dad just got out of lockup. Fra-gee-lay,” Eddie emphasizes, notes of Old Man Parker, “It’s just… easier like this, right now.”

“Well… is easy what you want?” Trust Ronnie to come through with a gut punch out of left field.

Eddie’s mouth bobs open to fish out some bullshit answer, but not until his bedroom door flies open.

“Goddamn, kid, you gotta get the maid in here.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Al Munson props his hip against the doorframe, sucking all the air from the room. He looks better than the last time Eddie saw him, at least, not like he’s three days cokebent and clammy. More like he went someplace and got a shave.

“If you really didn’t want me comin’ round, you’d tell your uncle to start lockin’ the door. Now, you got something belonging to me– that Stooges shirt, where’s it at?”

A hot line of panic flares up the back of Eddie’s neck. Stooges shirt, darkened on the shoulders from droplets from your wet hair. Stretched over–

“I’unno what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Yes, you do, Eddie,” his dad says, crossing the bedroom’s threshold. Al’s got springs under the balls of his feet, moving with that irritatingly happy-go-lucky effeteness. “It’s my lucky shirt! I need that thing–”

“Hasn’t done you a whole lotta good so far, Allen,” Ronnie mumbles from where she’s bunched up on the armchair.

“Ronnie,” Al’s eyes narrow; they’ve never liked each other because Ronnie’s too goddamn smart for her own good and therefore uncharmable, “How’zabout that for a breath of stale air. Get up a sec, would’ja?”

“C’mon, we’ve gotta go anyway.” Eddie jerks his head toward the door and Ronnie scuttles out ahead of him. He pauses for a breath, watching his dad rifle through the rejected shirts slung over the armchair. “There’s nothing in here worth stealing, by the way. Just in case things have gone so far south already that you’re diggin’ in people’s pockets for spare change.”

Those cut-and-paste Munson eyes survey Eddie and he feels his fist flex. Al’s been a loose cannon lately.

“Big night?”

“Party.” He should know what that means.

“Well, Ed,” Al closes a few steps between them, and Eddie resists the urge to back up. Or wind up. His voice drops so that Ronnie doesn’t catch it. “When you’re ready to graduate from sellin’ ten spots at parties, you let me know. We got something prestigious brewing. Could be the makin’ of you.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh, mirthful from his back molars. “Graduation’s a little ways off for me, Dad.”

He catches up with a tutting Ronnie, slamming the front door behind him and heading for the van.

“Seriously, dude, you got a case for a restraining order the way that motherfucker’s conducting himself lately.”

“I got a crowbar and a map of the Indiana Dunes that’d do just about the same thing, I just need a free weekend.”

“Hey!” a voice calls from behind them, and Eddie and Ronnie swivel toward it.

No stemming the smile that peels across his face, heart thud-thudding back into motion. A soothing cool comes over him at the sight of you, settling him right back into his body. You, dressed to the nines. You, coiffed up like you’re hellbent on making an impression. My little cold front.

“Shotgun!” you chirp, skipping toward the van in your spindly little shoes. Both Eddie and Ronnie are rendered speechless for a beat or two.

Shit, you look good.

“There’s only one fucking passenger seat!” Ronnie protests.

“Fine, Ronnie, I’ll sit in your lap– is that what you want?”

Eddie lets you two nonsensically bicker as he guns the van to life, sweeping out of the park in a thunderous roar. He’s trying to stay tuned into the conversation you’re having, he really is, but the way you’ve got your shoulders thrown back and cleavage thrust out, Ronnie squished beside you, is focus-stealing.

“Wait, you’re volunteering at the beauty pageant?” Eddie finally clues in, “Sorry, Lace, there’s no way that throwing glitter on bimbos in bathing suits counts as community service. Otherwise, I’d be ve-ry committed to my community.”

“Right?! Like, how did I get stuck with helping out Granny’s retirement home friends? I could be checking chicks for visible bra straps but I’m trapped with a bunch of senile losers that smell like clove suckers.”

“It’s not just an ogle-fest, you knuckle-draggers,” you roll your eyes, “There’s an entire interview portion, too. You know, where the judges have to pretend to care about what these girls have to say– and it’s my job to make sure they don’t sound entirely braindead.”

“You love an insurmountable challenge, huh, Lace?”

“Never tell me what I can and can’t mount, Munson,” you purr–he’s almost sure he hears you purr. The way you look at him over the center console, eyes all a-felined, does the job for him.

Ronnie keeps her mouth shut, and he silently thanks her for it.

Festivities are fully in swing as you all pull onto Harrington’s street–plus the festivity-specific problem of there being almost no parking anywhere. Cars of your classmates clog the tree-lined streets, along with the vehicles of the wealthier Loch Nora contingent.

Eddie slaps his hands against the wheel. “How the fuck does he get away with this shit?”

“Senior year pass,” you remark, “Plus, Steve’s always-AWOL parentals. Somehow, his shitty home life gives way to an endless well of sympathy on Richie Rich Row here, so he kind of gets carte blanche.”

“The world’s luckiest latchkey k–woah!”

Reeboked feet have to slam down hard on the brakes, as Eddie almost takes out Robin Buckley, hunching her shoulders and marching toward the Harrington’s porch. The screech of the tires almost sends her leaping out of her skin.

“Watch it, asshole! Pedestrians still exist, you know!”

“Sorry, Buckley!” Eddie calls out down the window wound low, “For what it’s worth, you’re blending into the tarmac just great!”

Robin scoffs and continues stalking. Your head snaps to Ronnie.

“Ron,” you simper, “Why don’t you go make sure Robin’s not suffering from post traumatic? I would be, if I almost got mowed down by this decommissioned tank.”

Her brow screws up like she’s about to answer, but genius little you, this works on a couple of levels. For one, your insistence that something will happen between Buckley and Ronnie if you keep pressing their heads together like Barbies, and for two… Half a second alone.

Half a second is all Eddie needs.

“There’s no way I’m gonna remember where I parked if one of you isn’t here,” he tacks on, as if he needs the support, “And she–” by whom he means you, “--has priors in this house. Off ya go, Ecker.”

Banished to the pavement, Ronnie snarls something about hurrying back, which you promise her that you will. Eddie doesn’t promise anything. If he had his way, he’d rare right out of Loch Nora and keep driving, you to his beautiful right and watch as moonlight started to pool in the window over your skin. Just keep turning the wheel, so he could keep looking at you.

You point out a spot a street over and Eddie kills the engine.

“Hi,” he rasps, angling his torso toward you. He doesn’t stem his smile.

“Hello,” you say in return. Your neck rolls against the headrest. You’re looking at him in a slow drip through your bottom lashes.

Eddie has to remind himself to breathe, and his first intake is kinda ragged. It makes you laugh, this little gaspy sound that sounds like a prelude to something else. Your stare breaks, gliding to the dashboard.

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

“Let’s shall.”

Eddie snaps back to life, dashing out of the driver’s side to help you down from the passenger’s. Your fingers give his hand a little extra squeeze and he takes this very, very liminal opportunity to hold you at arms length, pirouetting you under his hand.

“Sorry. I’m sorry! I had to!” he faux-apologizes. “Gotta test the durability of these shoes, in case you need to make a run for it later.”

Your laugh comes out uncorked and full-bodied and it makes Eddie feel like his head is levitating two feet above his neck.

“Relieving yourself of your hero duties already, huh?”

Silk spills over your curves, skirt billowing around your thighs as you move. That makes him feel very much in his body. You look ravishing, your hair crashing into a wave as you come to a smiling stop in front of him.

Eddie presses his mouth to your fingers, clasped around his hand, and hears the bubble of your breath hiccup.

“Not by a long shot.”

A warm berry encases your lips that he wants to see smudged. He wants to wear it on his collarbone like a second chain.

He wonders if he knows you look like you’re trying to get ravished.

Of course you do. There’s not a single thing you’ve ever put on your body that wasn’t on purpose.

Which, if Eddie considers it, now includes him.

You both barely remember to unweave your fingers as you approach Harrington’s house.

—

A meticulously curated outfit makes all the difference, especially if you’re reentering society. And you are, in a manner of speaking.

Returning to the scene of the crime, the inciting incident that saw you in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van the better part of a bottle of vodka deep and a bruise blooming. Bridges actively aflame between you and those you once considered your closest friends.

They’d given you the matches though. Flicked them at you, expected you to do nothing.

It occurs to you now, as a lingering touch stays between your and Eddie’s pinkie fingers and you cross the porch, that you hadn’t so much as looked in the rearview mirror to assess the damage. You looked through his windscreen as he drove you home.

“Divide and conquer?”

“I’ll find you.”

Eddie used to exist to you as an eyesore on the peripheries of parties like this. Here, where you always felt you were sitting alone on the observation deck, watching everyone else have fun and learning how to mimic it for your own gain. Patching yourself together. You felt him leering over your shoulder sometimes, separate from it too.

Now, he’s the boy spinning you around on the pavement, looking at you like you’re a whole person.

So this should be interesting.

The two of you shove past a couple of clumping bodies on the doorstep, eyes already starting to dagger in your direction. Into the foyer, towards the kitchen, those looks become more and more and more focused. Feels like you’re wearing piano wire for a choker.

‘What the fuck…’ ‘Remember the last time she was here?’ ‘Woah, smackdown rematch. Somebody get Carol.’

Eddie gets a little closer than he needs to, feigning a stumble into you, just to brush against your hardened shoulders and whisper, ‘Head up, queenie. It’s not like they’ve got a guillotine,’ before he disappears to make rent.

The smile you’re about to sneak to him dies on your lips as your name rings out from somewhere in the milieu, someplace near the kitchen.

“Lacy!”

All that cruising for a parking space and you hadn’t locked eyes on a Ford Cortina, had you?

The tardiest student enrolled at Amherst or wherever half-jogs toward you with a smile that makes your stomach lurch. Cold sweat starts to prick against your hairline. Excuse me?

“Oh! Hi!” you hit a higher octave than you were intending, for sure, you can tell by the look on his face. Eyebrows all shot up. “What the… fuck are you doing here?”

College guy shakes his head a little, confused. “You mentioned you were gonna be here.”

“...and you took that as an explicit invitation?” You’re still technically dating him, dumbass. Smile. “Just kidding! It is. Good. To see you.”

A cursory squeeze of his bicep. Christ, you’re bad at this when you’re not prepared. Extra bad at this when your first thought, when you’re doing bad, is where’s Eddie. When did that symbiosis develop exactly?

“Listen, can we go somewhere?” Oh, Jesus. “Talk? I tried to call your place a little earlier and–” Oh, Jesus! This guy looks at you with earnest eyes that you couldn’t tell the color of if you had a gun to your head. Bodies jostling around you, you make the choice to drop in and act a little left of sober.

“That sounds ah-mazing, but I do have to pee, so,” you shoot him a glimmering smile which ain’t takin’. “Grab me a drink and I’ll find you? Grab me a drink and I’ll find you.”

Bolt! You’re stepping over knees as you weave your way up Harrington’s impossible staircase to the second floor bathroom, downing a shot from a tray on your way. Five minutes inside Mrs Harrington’s immaculately designed proto-modern lavatory should give you enough chutzpah to take on the rest of this night, right? Maybe a fully clothed lie down in the jacuzzi tub.

The ten-girl deep line outside the locked door says different.

From the seventh spot, Carol Perkins cranes her perfectly coiffed strawberry head out and locks eyes with you.

No guillotine, huh?

—

Eddie’s gotta wonder, what the hell the Harrington household looks like when it isn’t throbbing with mainstream radio rock and gyrating teenagers. The house is a showroom of suburban perfection, but whenever Steve throws a party, it goes full bacchanal.

Tonight Eddie intends to take full and rapid advantage of the skewed consciousness of his classmates and copious amounts of jello shooters.

Like, yeah, Harrington might have graciously invited him and not directly asked him to peddle his wares by the pool like a fucked up candy stand, but you gotta seize opportunity wherever you find it. People see him here, they know what to do. They know his purpose.

It’s not as if Eddie’s here to mingle, okay?

Do what they expect of you until you don’t have to anymore.

The short term objective? Empty his stash, stuff his pockets and steal away with you into one of the billion bedrooms this mini-mansion holds. But, much to Eddie’s chagrin, that means fighting through the din of Cyndi Lauper and body odor first.

Conjured by his very words, Andy Sweeney swings right into Eddie’s path and yoinks the beer that Eddie was reaching for. The kid doesn’t even look beyond the brim of his baseball cap to notice he’s standing there. He’s too busy jawing with some other basketball tool.

“Lissen, man, say what you want,” Sweeney burbles, “but Princess Trailer Trash is still totally bangin’.”

Eddie’s ears immediately tune right into their garbled conversation.

“Pssh, dude, I don’t care what anyone says, she was frigid then and she’s frigid now. No way some overgrown virgin like Munson is splittin’ those knees open.”

“Still… bet she misses the finer things in life, y’know?”

“Tchyuh, like you, y’mean?”

“Nah, rich bitches like that get a wettie over the dumbest shit. Hey, how many glasses of Cristal does it take for Lacy Doevski to spread her legs?”

“I’unno, man, how many?”

“Well, if the first one has her face down in the pillow, how’s she gonna be able to tell?”

Bile scorches the back of Eddie’s throat. He doesn’t even mean for it, he actually means for a lot worse, but his hand goes right out and grabs the scruff of Sweeney’s shirt. The despicable little dirtbag. He yelps, a sound pleasing to Eddie but not quite pained enough for what this motherfucker deserves.

“What the fuck, freak?!”

Breath forces itself hard through Eddie’s nostrils. That they think they even have the right to talk about you like that makes him want to leave an Andy Sweeney-shaped hole in the Harringtons’ marble countertop, with some blood and teeth and viscera to match.

“Interesting observation, Andy. It’s incredible to witness how the minds of the shrivel-dicked work,” Eddie seethes, “I personally like to enact my violence face up. Seen Billy Hargrove lately?”

Sometimes, Eddie forgets that he’s actually scary looking. The hair shrouding his face, the big hulking rings, the unsuspecting strength he’s gained from hauling around kegs and amps and the weight of the world… Sometimes, it takes a stiffened flash and a sudden flash of fear in someone like Andy Sweeney’s irises for him to remember.

Sweeney stammers something between a no, please! and get off me!, fighting his own piss-pantsery in order to keep up appearances for his bros.

Eddie grabs the Miller High Life from his hand and shoves him back toward his friends.

“Champagne of beers. You understand.”

Sweeney spits, like physically spits at him. “Fucking loser!”

“Says the guy threatening to roofie a chick!” Eddie barks. “God, I know that your line of work doesn’t exactly require neurons but I’m begging you to rub your remaining ones together and see if it sparks some self awareness, Sweeney– go on, try!”

—

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here.”

“Praying I don’t get a UTI, like everybody else in line.”

“You know what I mean, bitch.”

A category five sigh rolls your shoulders forward, hunching them further down the wallpaper you lean against. Carol has stepped fully out of the line, looking viperous but keeping her distance. Like you might have the good sense to strike back this time.

“Oh my god, Caroline, it’s a kegger. I don’t think you need to RSVP.”

“There’s a strict no freaks policy,” Carol The Bouncer says.

A one noted bark-laugh comes from the fifth position in the line. “Yeah, I think we’re getting a little lenient with that one these days.”

From the mouth of Robin Buckley, who stands there like she did at the last party, against her will but as living proof that even the worst people you knew might not be as bad as you thought.

I know Steve. He’s not exactly made for this crowd either.

“Stay out of this, Lesbo Baggins!”

“Hey!” You force your stiletto off the wall and lose your place in line, since Carol’s begging for it. Fuck that. No more shrapnel. “Leave her alone. This is between us, isn’t it? You and me?”

“And the rest of this town,” Carol’s upper lip curls.

“Refresh my memory,” you say, and the choking vice of Carol’s overly familiar body spray is threatening your jugular. You used to come home from her place reeking of the stuff; the kind of smell that transfers, and carried with it characteristics that you were once proud to have rub off on you. The misery, the misanthropy for everyone but your pocketful of someones. And you and Carol didn’t even like them, most of the time. United in smarting bitterness, the way that girls who want more but can’t seem to get it always are. “What’s the problem, Care?”

“The problem,” Carol snarls, “is you, Lacy. Think just because your daddy’s out of prison that everyone forgot what he did? What you did? I’m watching you, trailer trash.”

You’re close enough that you can see the clumps in her mascara. Why hadn’t she separated them with a needle like you taught her to? The Audrey Hepburn method. It had always freaked her out, you sitting there with a pin that close to her retina, but she’d never looked better.

Doomed to fail, without you by her side.

Spine straightening, you draw yourself over her. In your heels, borrowed from Ivana and gilded with her hardiness, you make Carol look small.

“Yeah?” your voice drops to gravel. “You like what you see?”

—

Brainless Hawkinsite pieces of shit can’t so much as muster a response before they lurch for Eddie. Who the fuck knows what cursed or blessed him with rhythm, but he dodges around the bustling kitchen island with relative ease, before he nearly knocks Steve Harrington himself straight through his own plate glass patio door.

“No runnin’ indoors!” Steve slurs in his face, so close that a fleck of saliva goes straight up Eddie’s nostril. Gross. He’s found a home in the welcome bosom of the jello shot, that’s for fucking sure.

“They started it!”

“I don’t give a fuck! Finish it!”

Gruffly, he casts an eye around the kitchen for those rogue ballsacks– they’d scarpered, probably spooked by the bellow of King Steve. Whatever.

“My attackers seem to have dematerialized, you’ll be delighted to know!”

“Why do you do that? Why do you talk like such a fucking weirdo, man?” Steve asks exasperatedly, clutching onto Eddie’s shoulder a little too roughly for his liking. Not that he’s keen on Harrington pawing him at all. “Like what d–... ughh, forget it! List-en! Where’s your weirdo girlfriend?”

“Ronnie’s not–”

“Who the fuck is–” Steve’s whole pretty boy face screws up and he lets out a genuine groan of anguish. “No, asshole, where is Lacy at?”

“How should I know?!”

“Because your nose is permanently wedged up her ass!” Steve yells, but something draws him back. “Or it should be!”

Incredibly puzzling wording. Eddie shakes his head, wide eyes bewildered at exactly what the fuck Steve wants from him. With a scoff, the man of the house walks into the body-to-body wedge of his hallway and runs, from what Eddie can see, right into…

Your little college boyfriend.

Now… what the sweet and levelling fuck…

Eddie Munson’s activating Shadow Arts, he guesses, because he dips as close to the two of them as he can get without being accused of tailing Harrington this time.

“...hey man, what the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“Haha. Good to see you too, Stevie. Quite the turnout–you the big man on campus now or what?”

“I don’t know, it’s a party. I’m personally having kind of an evolution moment of my own. So. Fuckin’. Whatever.”

“... right.”

“How’s… fuckin’... whatever needledick school it is you go to?”

“Tch, man. I made it about a heartbeat and a hangover through the first semester before I dropped out. Came home around Christmas, much to the disgrace of my parents… But I’m havin’ an alright time, if you catch my drift.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know. High school girls. You can tell them anything, am I right?”

Shit.

Know what, though? Eddie, as he sees it, would be well within his rights to yuk it up at this pernicious turn of events. He’s had a bet running (with himself) that this eyesore in beige you call a college beau, with his ugly fuckin’ car and his stupid collared shirts and his Waiting for Godot or whoever, wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. And not just ‘cause of jealousy, no! Not entirely. Well, okay. But, riddle him this– instead of snorting it up good, thrilled to be able to rub your nose in it, that rotten coil of anger started shifting in his belly again. Why do you think that is?

It’s simple. Eddie knows it’s simple. Because Mister Faux Ivy League has wasted so much of your time.

Time that should have been yours and Eddie’s.

He’s gotta tell y–

“Hey, man. How’s it going.”

“Agh!” Eddie yelps, as running right the fuck into people is apparently the flavor de nuit. Ronnie stands, stockstill and deadpan, behind him. Flanked by Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove.

Eddie makes an exasperated noise of confusion, not even dignifying this apparition with a question.

“They wanna play beer pong,” Ronnie monotones. With a glance down, Eddie can see that her front overalls pocket is filled with empty beer bottles. Apprehension swipes at him. See, his good friend Ronnie? She’s a competitive drunk. She, drunk off Jeff’s dad’s scotch, once trash talked Keith from Palace Arcade to such an eviscerating degree that she got a lifetime ban and he left to work at Family Video. Over a game of fuckin’ Tron.

“We wanna play beer pong,” Hagan echoes.

Hargrove sucks on a cigarette, having finally regained the ability to open his eye. Tragic. “Pong.”

“Why?!” Eddie asks, but more like begs.

“Because they insinuated that I would lose.”

“And we’d like to give the future valedictorian a chance to prove us right,” Hargrove drawls, looking as if he’s trying not to admit to himself that he has to look up to address Ronnie. She’s got a head and a half on him, at least. So many complexes in such a roidy, mulleted package.

Eddie sees that his cheque is signed.

“... Fine. Your funeral.”

—

“All I see is some ex-relevant ex-cheerleader in somebody else’s moth eaten clothes.”

“This is Italian silk, you JC Penney clone-ette.”

“Oh, Italian like a meatball sub or Italian like the mob your dad is part of?”

That sets your teeth on edge. God, Ray Doevski wishes– at least there’d be some valor to it then, capos and all. The reality feels far less shrouded in intrigue. Grimier, somehow.

“Carol, you had the jump on me last time,” you grit, “but I’m stone cold tonight. Either see yourself down the stairs or I will.”

“Are you threatening me, freak fucker?”

“You’d love that, bottom feeder.”

“Lacy! Stop right there, y–”

Earrings clinking as you snap your head around, you watch as a thoroughly ossified Steve Harrington almost brains himself on the top step. Neither you nor Carol nor anyone else reach out to help him, caught red handed in the prelude to a catfight.

“Finally, Jesus!” Carol whinges, “Steve, she’s totally trespassing!”

Panic spikes across your shoulders, quills on a porcupine–are you actually about to get escorted off the premises? That’d be embarrassing, being double-shunned at an open-door Harrington kegger. Eddie hadn’t even managed that dire of a social faux pas and here you are, about to do it for the second time.

“Ow! Shut up, Carol!” Steve decides to steady himself by closing the span of his big hand around your elbow; you both stagger under his wheedling. He’s got a bottle of vodka, cracked, wedged in his other palm. “You and I need to have a little chat.”

And before you can make any attempt to yank yourself away, make a run for it in these stilettos you certainly cannot confidently lift knees it, Steve is pulling you in the direction of his bedroom. A choir of middle school-aged angels that all look like you are singing somewhere as Carol and every other girl in that bathroom line save for Robin enviously glare after you, but you can’t hear it due to being plunged into one of the deeper circles of hell.

“Steven, listen–” You’re not even entirely sure where the full-Christian-name-address comes from, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind when you yank your arm free. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. Not really. I was just…”

Click. Steve locks his bedroom door and turns, staring you down. Well, the best that a drunk teenager with drifting irises could stare one down. You wonder how many Lacys he sees right now. You should ask him to count them, finger on his nose.

“You and I need to have a little chat.”

“You said that already,” but you can’t tell drunk people nothin’.

A remorseful edge around his attempt at a come-hither stare is making you feel a little icky, dawdling on the burning balls of your feet. He looks really bad, actually. The picture of someone trying to sift horniness out of grief or whatever. Steve thrusts one hand through his already scuzzed-up hair, the other jerking the bottle of liquor towards you.

“Have a drink, Lacy, Jesus. Relax, for once.”

You accept the bottle from him. Mostly because it looks as if he’s going to crack you over the head with it if you don’t. The vodka sears going down, same as last time, but there’s not the same urgency to meet everyone else on a level of functioning normal, party girl cool. If anything, the urgency lies in taking the edge off being here.

Particularly in Steve Harrington’s bedroom.

Once upon a time, you’d have mown down half this town in your sporty little Porsche to be sitting right where you’re sitting. But now, under the weight of your own self and Steve’s breakup with Nancy, you’d rather be anywhere else. Anywhere.

“Sit down,” he tells you.

Your eyebrows draw in on instinct, very who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?

Steve scoffs, like he forgot to put on his concerned pantomime. He makes a pretty good go of it, slurring. “Please, Lacy.”

Your knees acquiesce, sinking yourself down onto his checkered bedsheets. The combination of that and the checkered wallpaper is creating an incredible cresting wave of claustrophobia.

“Listen, if this is about Nancy, if this is some harebrained attempt to marionette me into getting her back, I–”

“This is about you ‘n’ me, actually.”

Nope. Opposite day. Fucking Twilight Zone.

“No, it’s not,” you outright refuse. The mattress sags as Steve takes a seat beside you.

“Well, why can’t it be?” Steve’s eyes trail a sticky line up your bare arm as he lies back and props himself up, low on his elbows. However, it’s not eliciting the same amount of alarm that it would if someone like, say, Billy Hargrove were doing it. He’s pathetic, and not in a way you find enticing. “You ‘n’ me, it makes sense. Doesn’t it? Don’t you want it to?”

“No!” You balk with a little more fervor than a then-wounded looking Steve deserves.

“Why not?!” No one says no to the king, of course, especially when he’s this soused.

“Because…” You shake your head, legs crossing on Steve’s bed. A different draft of you, the idea of a girl you had long since scrapped screams at you from somewhere in the very back of your head. You’re ruining it, Lacy–everything we’ve worked for! “You don’t want me. You just feel sorry for yourself. And I’m…”

But luckily, he doesn’t catch the trail-off.

“I’m about to make you feel sorry for yourself,” Steve railroads you.

“How’s that?” Another slug of vodka…

“Well,” he struggles to keep himself propped up, “my girlfriend Eddie and your boyfriend Nancy? Recreationally copulating. How d’ya like that.”

… comes right out your nose.

author's notes: so i once again scrapped the idea of a mega chapter because i wanted to give you guys something in case i have to disappear because i start my new job tomorrow! sweating and pissing and crying. but being able to afford to move out soon will be good. anyway, i love writing a good party scene so expect this to leak right into chapter 12 too. onto the fun stuff: - naming carol's mother ann perkins is a not-so-subtle nod to parks and recreation but the characterization couldn't be further off lol - attention all american teen princesses, i found drop dead gorgeous in full on youtube - the debate team captain in question, kate something-or-other, is in fact the very same kate that appears in rebel robin as robin's now-ex best friend - doctor, she's self-referencing again, this time about the time ivana threw an olive at norman mailer - i had to look up the origin of the term 'boinked', and it turns out it comes from cheers! congrats sam and diane - boners forged fire to table straight from mount doom - fra-gee-lay. it must be italian - that's two for one LOTR references if you count lesbo baggins - i am once again pretending to understand things about dnd - i can't mention *jeff bridges voice* TRON! without watching clips of jeff bridges doing things. it's so cliche to cast him as my reefer rick but bitch the heart wants that's all for now, folks! thanks again for reading and pls do reblog and comment and send me asks and things to keep the spirit of this silly little story alive. we're amping up. love u hellcats x

#published by powder #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x f!oc #eddie munson fic #e. munson by powder #l. doevski by powder #hellfire & ice #in progress

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scmg11 · 2 days

Text

KATE BISHOP x READER

Maybe your heart isn’t made of plastic

Summary: Y/N always considered high school an hellhole where you need to fight everyday to survive, especially when Kate Bishop ruled over everything and everyone adored her. Everyone except her. She hated her. So she just tried to lay low and mind her own business, but when a new student arrive at their school, madness follows.

After a revenge plan, everything falling apart and just overall chaos, Y/N hooked up with none other than Kate Bishop. And it just kept happening. The two started hooking up wherever they had the chance and old feelings start to resurface. But would things work out or they would fall apart eventually?

[I got inspired after watching the new Mean Girls movie and after writing a too long oneshot about an original story with Kate, so I decided to create a book.]

A/N: HELLO HELLO HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!

I am here with a brand new book for you! Someone may already know that I got inspired by the new Mean Girls movie and wrote a 27k long oneshot before deciding to create a book and split it into multiple chapters.

This first chapter just go through the movie to introduce chapters and a bit of the background story, but the real story will start in the next chapter, so- STAY TUNED!

I pretty much have the whole book already written so you guys don't have to wait too much for updates (even if I will be busy with updating my Hailee imagines book too).

As always, let me know what you guys think, it's really important your opinion to me ❤️

Oh I almost forgot, this book is pretty much all smut. So read at your own risk 😉.

Sending you guys love ❤️

Chapter 1

Y/N trudged to her locker on a too sunny Monday morning, almost dragging her feet across the school’s hallways with a big scowl on her face, "morning little flower- damn you are glowing today, sweety. Stop that or you’re gonna lit the whole school on fire."

"Very, very, very funny." Y/N turned around to face her best friend with an unimpressed face and found him wearing a teasing grin as he laid his shoulder on the locker beside hers and crossed his arms, "wow, today you’re screaming gay more than ever." Y/N stated after giving her best friend a once over, taking his rainbow t-shirt in and rolling her eyes, then focusing her attention back in her locker to grab her book for her first class.

"Uh-uh, who the hell peed in your Cheerios this morning?"

"Kate Bishop." Y/N growled under her breath after grabbing her book and accentuated her anger by slamming her locker close harshly. "Speaking of the Devil." Y/N rolled her eyes when she saw Kate Bishop strolling down the hallway alongside her friends with her signature smirk on her lips, catching everyone’s attention as their eyes followed them, including Y/N’s ones.

"Oh hey, Y/N. I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t see you there." Kate spoke with a clearly, fake apologizing tone and didn’t bother to listen to Y/N’s comeback before resuming her walk to presumably her first class, giggling alongside her friends.

"What a fucking bitch." Y/N shook her head while eyeing the back of Kate’s head, not realizing her best friend was giving her a pitying gaze.

"What did she do, now?"

"She almost ran me over with her car." Y/N turned around to face her best friend with anger boiling under her skin, her hands clenching around her book as she hugged it hard to her chest.

"What a fucking bitch." Y/N laughed when her best friend repeated her words and shook her head, relaxing right away and bumping her shoulder with the side of his bicep. She was too short to aim for his shoulder.

"Thank you Buck. You always know what to say to cheer me up."

"Oh honey, you know I do."

"Good morning, I would like to introduce you to our new student. She is moving from Slovenia-."

"Sokovia." The red haired girl corrected the principal with a shy smile, her awkward smile settling back on the class staring at her bored.

"Sokovia. Right, hm- welcome Wendy!"

"Oh, it’s Wanda."

"My apologies, Wanda." The redhead nodded once at the apologetic man before meeting everyone’s eyes with an anxious grimace on her lips, but luckily her new teacher pulled her out of her mercy when no one said a thing for a few moments.

"Okay, Wanda take your seat, let’s start the lesson." The blonde pointed to the only empty seat in the room and the girl immediately sauntered to it to sit down.

"Hey." The redhead smiled politely to two of her classmates staring at her with wide smiles, a little bit uncomfortable with their unrelenting gazes giving her a once over.

"Hello, fresh meat." Bucky was the first to speak up, sending Wanda a friendly wave before the other girl, with green ends on her hair did the same.

"Hey Wendy. Welcome to the jungle that is our school."

"Hey- HEY! Are you even listening to me?" Bucky punched Y/N’s shoulder when he noticed the girl was trying to balance a chicken nugget on her nose instead of focusing on him rambling about whatever he was telling her, making the nugget fall onto the ground and finally catching Y/N’s attention.

"Yeah, yeah sure. You were talking about something extremely important." Y/N nodded seriously and completely ignored the nugget falling on the ground and sliding a few feet away from their table, moving her attention on a frowning Bucky instead and pretended to not notice a guy stepping on it.

"I was trying to ask you- have you seen the new girl? She ran away."

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, stabbing some pasta on her fork and chewing on it, all the while Bucky’s eyes never moved from her, staring at her intently. She bit down on her bottom lip at her stomach churning with pity for the new girl and sighed out with an excessive roll of her eyes when her eyes caught Bucky’s pleading ones, already sitting up from the bench, "alright, let’s go rescue her."

Y/N totally ignored Bucky celebrating with a soft squeal and walked out of the room, knowing he was following her. She flipped some dude off that slammed into her on his way to the cafeteria before making her way towards the bathrooms, where she knew the girl was hiding. They smiled politely at a girl walking out and fled in the bathrooms, Y/N crouching down to look under the stalls to locate the redhead and finding her in the middle one, silently pointing at Bucky with her head, who nodded and knocked gently on the door, "hey- everything okay?" She asked with a slightly worried tone and leaned on the first stall’s frame, waiting for the girl to answer. She took a glance at Bucky and found him checking himself out in the mirror and rolled her eyes good-naturedly with a fond, exasperated smile on her lips.

"Yeah." The stall door opened a few moments later and Wanda, with her tray in her hands, appeared, looking a bit uncomfortable and confused but smiled awkwardly at the two best friends nonetheless.

"Rough first day?"

"I don’t know, should it be? I am not used to this."

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked as she grabbed Wanda’s empty tray and threw it in the trash can, waving Bucky off when he looked at her outraged at her gesture, before crossing her arms and lying her butt on the sink behind her, staring at Wanda curiously.

"I was homeschooled."

"Oh that’s so cool!" Bucky exclaimed with an envy, dreamy glint in his eyes as he stared at Wanda, but when Y/N slapped his arm gently he came back to his senses, "so this means you need two guides to help you deal with this shit hole."

"I guess?" Wanda asked more than stated and Y/N already started to like her. She seemed so naive.

"Let’s go. Your first lesson starts now." Y/N signaled for Wanda to follow her as she was already halfway out of the bathroom, Bucky pushing the redhead to move and then followed the two girls out of the bathroom, strolling back into the cafeteria. "Alright- hm, high school is essentially a jungle where if you don’t know how to survive you will be eat alive for sure. That’s why finding a place to belong to is vital. You can choose from the bitchy theater guys, the horny musicians, the dumb jocks, the stoners and the nerdy science guys. Do you feel like you already belong to one of these groups?" Y/N looked at Wanda expectantly after pointing to all the groups sat in the cafeteria, grimacing when her eyes fell on a nerd picking his nose nonchalantly.

"Not really." Wanda shook her head, her face scrunching up in distress as she assessed all the people in the room before looking at Y/N expectantly, "hey, I can hung out with you guys."

Y/N and Bucky shared a quick glance with wide smiles on their lips and nodded eagerly, "it’s fine by us." Bucky shrugged with a wide, excited smile, patting Wanda’s shoulder gently.

"But we need to warn you, we are too cool for this school. Are you sure you can handle all this popularity?" Y/N joked and was glad Wanda caught on it too as she giggled and nodded. Suddenly the chatter in the cafeteria stopped as its doors opened and three girls entered the room.

"Who are they?"

"Oh no, no, no." Y/N shook her head and turned around, pushing Wanda to do the same.

"Do not look them in their eyes!" Bucky whisper-yelled as he covered his eyes dramatically, but Wanda felt like she was frozen in her spot as she watched the trio stroll to the only empty table in the room.

"They are what we like to call them, the plastics. ‘Cause they’re shiny, fake and hard." Y/N explained, finishing with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. "The one on the left is Cassie Lang, she knows everything about everyone. The one on the right is Natasha Romanoff, her parents are famous scientists. She is so good in martial arts I think she might be a spy or something. And the one in the middle is Kate Bishop. Lacrosse team captain and a state archery champion. She is the Queen Bee. She controls the whole school. Everyone is afraid of her." When Y/N noticed Wanda kept staring at the trio now sitting down, Y/N slapped her gently on her shoulder and whispered, "Wanda, do not look or-."

"Hey, you." A voice echoed around the room as chatter slowly started again, Wanda furrowing her eyebrows and pointing at herself confusedly, "yeah, you. Come here."

"No, Wanda!" Y/N tried to grab Wanda’s arm and stop her from walking towards the black haired girl, but she slipped out of her reach and Y/N cursed under her breath as she watched the redhead walk towards the plastics. "Shit."

"What did they tell you?" Y/N asked as soon as Wanda joined them at the cafeteria entrance, the three of them walking down the stairs to go to their shared class after lunch time finished.

"They seem nice. They asked me to sit down with them this week."

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked confused, furrowing her eyebrows and looking at Wanda curiously, stopping in her tracks before she could walk down the stairs.

"Yeah. I don’t know why you two hate them. Kate seems so cool."

"What? No, no, no. Wanda- Kate Bishop is not cool. Kate Bishop is a scum-sucking life ruiner. She is heartless and a master bitch." Y/N nodded firmly when Bucky did the same to her.

"Yeah, Wan. In middle school, Kate told everyone Y/N is-."

"BUCK! Please, let’s move on. I have a plan. You are going to hung out with the plastics and then you’re gonna tell us all the stupid things they say."

"What? You mean spy on them?"

"No. It’s not spying. It’ll be fun!"

"Are you sure? I don’t-." Y/N sighed out imperceptibly and smiled widely at Wanda, leaning her arms on the handrail and then placing her head on them, batting her puppy dog eyes at the redhead.

"You won’t spy on them, we are only going to have fun too." Y/N pushed on and broadened her smile even more, hoping Wanda would give in, which she did a few moments later.

"Okay. I will."

"Yes!" Y/N and Bucky let out in unison to celebrate, before both lifted their hands up to high-five a laughing Wanda. They resumed their walk down the stairs but after a few steps Wanda stopped her friends with worry in her eyes.

"Do you guys have anything with pink I can borrow from you?"

Y/N scoffed outrageously at Wanda and looked at her like she just asked her the most offensive thing in her world, "no."

"Yeah! What shade?" Y/N couldn’t help herself and emit a small snort at Bucky’s enthusiasm, opening their Biology class door and walking in.

"And I’m telling you- Miss Harkness has a big stick up her ass." Bucky scoffed and grunted, closing his locker forcefully, eliciting a soft chuckle for his best friend.

"She does not. I find her funny."

"Just because you have a bigger stick up your ass." Y/N laughed heartily at Bucky’s comeback, leaning her back and head on the lockers before getting ready to deliver a witty counter back, that, sadly, never left her mouth.

"Why don’t you try to take it out? We won’t have to worry about things catching fire all the time." Kate walked by the two best friends with Cassie and Natasha on her trail, laughing at her own joke and subsequently making Cassie and Natasha join her with loud cackles too.

"Oh yeah. Hold on- do you want me to take yours out first?" Y/N smiled politely at Kate, leveling her with a challenging look and lifting her right eyebrow up a moment later, but the plastic just scoffed and walked away. "Bitch." Y/N murmured as she closed her eyes to calm herself down, but her peace was short lived when Wanda came sauntering towards them with a big smile on her face. "Oh no, too much happiness for this hellish environment."

"Sorry, I just- I met a guy in my Calculus class."

"Wow, calculus. You’re smart." Y/N nodded at Y/N in surprise, lifting herself off the lockers to walk out of school.

"Why are you taking that class? Are you trying to punish yourself for something bad you did?" Bucky asked alarmed, eyeing Wanda like she just grew two heads.

"No, I’m pretty good at math."

"Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for you." Wanda shook her head with a small smile at Bucky and shrugged, "anyway, let’s talk about the juicy stuff- who is he?"

"Travis Jarvis."

"What?! No, that’s a big no." Y/N shook her head alarmed, stopping Wanda before she could keep walking and looking into her eyes in warning. "You need to stay away from him."

"Why?"

"He is Kate’s ex boyfriend." Bucky clarified and Y/N nodded in affirmation, Wanda’s frown only deepening.

"Okay? They broke up, right? I can-."

"No. You can’t do anything. He was her property and you can’t touch what was hers."

"But-."

"No, honey. She will eat you alive. You are the prey and she is the predator."

"The apex predator." Y/N clarified, eyeing Kate talking with Cassie and Natasha in the parking lot.

"You guys are just exaggerating."

"Oh no, we’re not." Bucky shook her head with widened eyes, fear glinting into his irises.

"Someone touched Kate’s lacrosse stick in the locker room last year. That poor girl got transferred. To Europe." Y/N watched Wanda swallow visibly and tried to reassure her, feeling pity at her frightened expression, "if you really want to do this, we will support you, but Kate won’t have to find out." They resumed their walk out of the school but before they reached the big doors, they parted ways to not rise suspicions from the plastics.

"And they have this book, this ‘Burn Book’, where they write mean things about all the girls in our school."

"Wait- ooh- ooh- what does it say about me?"

"You- you’re not in it." Wanda lied and looked down at her hands.

"What? Those bitches." Y/N exclaimed outraged, Bucky chuckling from the couch in Y/N’s garage.

"She gave me a pair of shoes for me to wear."

"Oh, show me!" Bucky got up from the couch in a second and pushed Y/N out of the way as he run towards Wanda, making her fall on the couch with a fond, exasperated chuckle.

"Hey guys, what are you gonna wear to the Halloween party this Friday?" Wanda asked curiously, catching her two friend’s attention from their textbooks. Like every other Wednesday afternoon, they were studying at Y/N’s house, the only day Wanda would hung out with them since Kate had her archery practice, but that question plagued her mind and prevented her to focus on her homework.

"Nothing. We’re not going." Y/N stated simply, focusing her attention back on her textbook.

"Why?" Y/N sighed quietly under her breath at the question and gave up doing her homework for now.

"Because we’re not invited. The plastics never invite us to parties."

"But screw them, we have so many funny activities Friday night." Bucky smiled and nodded at Y/N, who smirked back at her friend knowingly.

"Don’t look at us that way. We’re not sneaking in their parties. A nerd from the science group sneaked into one of their party once. We don’t actually know what the plastics did to him, but he didn’t show up at school for a month and he refused to tell what happened that night." Y/N shrugged and flipped a page over on her book.

"I claim that he got tied to a chair in Kate’s garage and they frightened him for life." Bucky butted in and lifted his hand up, but then placed it on his chest and looked at Wanda in sympathy, thinking back to that guy.

"But it’s fine. Go to that stupid party. You will tell us what happened on Monday."

Y/N and Bucky were in the middle of their scary movies marathon, watching a scary movie they hadn’t had the chance to see yet and chewing on popcorn from time to time. "He is gonna catch her, you see." Y/N stated with a knowing voice as she grabbed a few kettle corns to eat.

"Shhh." Y/N and Bucky had their eyes glued on the screen, waiting for the jump scare to happen but they relaxed as soon the woman in the movie did too, as nothing happened. About 3 seconds passed before the two best friends jumped up in fright when the monster caught the woman in the movie a moment later, before jumping up from the couch again in fear a second later while screaming at the top of their lungs when someone opened abruptly Y/N’s garage door, making Y/N threw the popcorn at them.

"Holy fucking shit! Wanda!"

"Sorry." The redhead closed the garage door and trudged into the room with tears running down her face, sniffling under her breath and looking at her friends in sorrow.

"What happened?" Bucky immediately sat up and guided Wanda, with her makeup now ruined by her tears, on the couch.

"She kissed him. In front of me. She told me she was gonna talk to him for me but then she kissed him." Wanda explained after she calmed down from the hiccups, a few tears escaping her eyes again as she explained to Y/N and Bucky, making the two best friends look at her pitifully.

"That’s who Kate Bishop really is. A fucking egocentric cunt." Y/N stated after Wanda finished speaking, looking in the distance with an anger glint burning behind her eyes.

"Now I see why you hate her so much." Wanda lifted her head up and looked at Y/N in her eyes.

"Because that’s what she always does. When we were in middle school, she told everyone Y/N is-."

"BUCK! Not now."

"No, I know the story. You were in love with Kate and you burned her backpack when she didn’t feel the way." Wanda explained as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand, smiling gratefully at Y/N when she offered her a Kleenex. "Thank you."

"That’s what she said? Really?" Y/N asked outraged with fire burning behind her eyes, scoffing and lifting her legs up on the couch to hug them closely when Wanda nodded tentatively.

"That’s not what happened. Let me explain it to you." Bucky sat up and grabbed a box under a drawer and placed it on the coffee table. "With dolls."

"Ugh, Buck, can you not?"

"She deserves to know the truth!" Bucky countered back to Y/N sternly, eyeing Y/N hard and lifted the top of the box only when Y/N sighed out dejected and hugged her knees closer, resigned to listening to Bucky explain the story, "Y/N and Kate used to be best friends in middle school."

"What?"

"I know, right? Shocking! Anyway, they were inseparable. One day, they gave each other these friendship pets and Y/N put this pin on hers to come out to Kate." Bucky pointed to the rainbow pin on the fluffy pet, "Kate was happy Y/N came out to her and put the same pin on hers for support, because- she used to be human." Bucky stated, making Y/N smile at his joke, "a few days later, Kate confessed to Y/N she liked a boy in their class named Kyle. Y/N, of course, supported her- they were best friends. They went to a party and when it was time for the spin the bottle game, Kate was afraid Kyle liked Y/N more, so when he spun the bottle and it landed on Y/N, Kate kissed Y/N in front of everyone abruptly and then brushed it off saying things like ‘I knew she would let me kiss her, because she is a dyke and completely obsessed with me’." Y/N rolled her eyes when Bucky tried to imitate Kate and making the two dolls he had in his hands kiss, but didn’t interrupt him, eyeing Wanda quickly and finding her completely focused on Bucky, "they had a really bad fight and stopped talking. But Kate, the bitch that she is, brought that pet everywhere she went. Y/N heard her making everyone say hi to the pet and call it Sissy Liz, that was a code name for ‘obsessed lesbian’. She was basically making fun of Y/N and everyone knew except Y/N. So during chemistry class she lit that pet on fire to get rid of it. Kate’s backpack caught slightly on fire and Y/N got expelled."

"So when you got home you couldn’t explain why." Wanda finished with a pensive tone, already looking at Y/N in sympathy as all the pieces of the story fell onto place.

"Yeah. And Kate got away with it." Bucky finished with his story and placed everything back in the box, scoffing under his breath.

"I’m so sorry you went through all of that."

"It’s in the past now, Wan. But now you see Kate for who she really is. Now you know she is not your friend. We are your friends. And we’re gonna make her pay."

"That bitch deserves a lesson." Bucky butted in and high-fived Y/N, while Wanda looked at the two confused.

"Yeah, do you want your happy ending with Vis?" Wanda nodded, her eyes already filling up with tears as the image of Kate kissing him in front of her appeared in her mind, "then we’re gonna have a fucking revenge party." Y/N smirked widely at her friends before sprinting to her laptop to start working, while Wanda and Bucky decided to watch a movie. About an hour later she hung a white sheet on the wall, turned on her projector and cleared her throat to grab her friend’s attention. Bucky stopped the movie and both Bucky and Wanda looked over at Y/N’s presentation while Y/N stood beside it with a focused frown on, "so, here’s the plan. We need to take Kate from off her throne. Targeting all the things around her she cares the most. First thing first. Her perfect body." Y/N pointed to the first point on her PowerPoint projection, making both Wanda and Bucky look at her weirdly for how much effort she put on that presentation.

"Wow, talk about dedication." Bucky joked but Y/N waved him off and continued.

"Then putting her best friends against her. And last but not less important, making Vis dump her. Questions?" Y/N looked at her small audience and lifted her right eyebrow up in question, pointing at Bucky, who lifted his hand up.

"You remind me of my first grade teacher. She looked like Satan." Bucky snickered at his own joke and at Y/N staring at him unamused. A few seconds later Y/N grabbed the first thing she had within her reach and threw it at him. "Ohw! Throwing your tubes of paint at me is not nice."

"You should be glad it wasn’t an hammer." Y/N deadpanned with an hard stare directed at Bucky and lifted an eyebrow up defiantly. A few seconds of silence wrapped around them into the garage before the three of them let out loud cackles.

"I have a question." Wanda lifted her hand up after she calmed down and waited for Y/N’s full attention, who nodded after wiping away a few tears that escaped her eyes, "do we have to do these things in succession or-."

"Not really. But I think destroying her perfect image would be the logical thing to do first." Y/N shrugged, turning her head around and staring at the words projected on the sheet as a pensive frown rolled over her features.

"It would definitely make her go mad. Turning her friends against her would definitely come subsequently." Bucky added with a small nod as he leaned back on the couch and stretched his arms over the top of it.

"But how can we do that?" Y/N furrowed her eyebrows pensively and stroked her chin gently, wracking her brain for a good idea to start with their plan. The three teenagers spent about 5 minutes thinking in silence, all staring into space and humming from time to time as they discarded a few ideas. Suddenly Y/N sat up from the coffee table and lifted her hand up in victory. "I got it. Okay- this Thursday we have that stupid celebration for her win as the Spring Fling Queen last year. We can start with that."

"Where is the celebration?" Wanda asked, still getting used to all these school activities.

"On the football field." Bucky explained to Wanda when Y/N didn’t answer right away as she stared at the ground, thinking over a plan of action.

"Oh I got it! Oh this will be amazing- we are gonna fucking hit her with hydrants and drench her in front of the whole school. She will be furious." Y/N explained out loud happily, proud for coming up with that idea.

"Oh I would definitely cry in front of everyone." Bucky nodded with fear in his eyes, looking into space as he probably imagined the scene, and Y/N rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her friend.

"How the fuck is that possible? We splashed water into her fucking face and she transformed into a model? I had my feed full of Kate stroking her boobs with that stupid sexy face. And she even created a new trend. Are you fucking kidding me? Ugh." Y/N punched Bucky’s locker in frustration before leaning her forehead on it, making her best friend gasp at her.

"Hey! Don’t hate on my locker."

"I’m sorry. But our plan had a really shit start. We only made her more popular." Y/N lifted her head up to stare at her best friend in apology before leaning her forehead back on the cold surface with another frustrated groan and closing her eyes to calm her nerves but a rustling sound of paper beside her ear made her lift her head back up and meet Wanda’s eyes instead, eyeing the bar she was eating. "What’s that?"

"Oh, that’s actually my lunch. I need to study before my test, that will be after lunch. I don’t have time to eat so I’m using this bar that my mom used to give to people in need in Sokovia. It helps you ingest all kind of nutrients and vitamins. She gave it to people starving to help them gain weight fast." Y/N was certain that if she was in a cartoon a lightbulb would’ve appeared on top of her head and lighted up as a devilish idea popped into her head.

"Wan, I think you gave us inspiration for step 2 of our plan." Wanda stared at Y/N’s face erupting in a big, mischievous grin and stared at her in confusion, waiting for her to clarify. "You’re gonna make Kate believe these things are used to loose weight in Sokovia instead. In no time she will have to say goodbye to her perfect body."

"Damn girl, I love when you’re such a dick." Bucky chuckled and bumped his shoulder with Y/N’s one, who just shrugged with a fake humble smile before chuckling evilly under her breath.

"Holy shit! Kate just bumped into me on her way to class. I was so shocked I didn’t even register her calling me an idiot. Shit- those bars are starting to work." Y/N sat down in her chair in class and sighed when it luckily didn’t start yet, meeting Wanda’s and Bucky’s eyes with her own widened in bewilderment.

"Yeah, I noticed it too this morning in the parking lot." Bucky nodded with a proud smile, winking at Y/N mischievously.

"Yeah. Yesterday she was so pissed-off she yelled at Natasha and Cassie all the time. Cassie is afraid she hadn’t ‘crapped’ in two weeks." Wanda grimaced in worry and recalled how brutal Kate was being with her best friends the days prior.

"Perfect. That’s just perfect. She is starting to crumble!"

"Buck stop trying to set me up with that girl in your class. I’m not interested." Y/N repeated for the umpteenth time to her best friend as she closed her locker, groaning in frustration when he tried to protest, again.

"I would be surprised if she is interested in you." Kate scoffed as appeared from behind Y/N and snickered at her own joke, making her three friends that followed her around do the same. Y/N fleetingly met Wanda’s eyes over Cassie’s shoulder before moving her eyes onto Kate, staring at her proudly of her insult. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"Well, I guess you definitely need to pull a surprised face. I like to people. You’re not the only one good with her mouth in our school." Y/N countered back cheekily, lifting her eyebrow up in challenge as an evil smirk appeared on her lips. She could swear she saw Kate blush, but her angry brain was definitely pulling jokes on her.

"Pft, bullshit."

"Wanna test it out?" Kate imperceptibly faltered in her stance as she swallowed quickly, but Y/N didn’t notice it.

"Y’know what I think? I think you only like to show off with your mouth. I think you only use it for selling bullshit." And with that Kate walked away, purposefully slamming into Y/N and making her hit her back on the lockers behind her, as her friends followed behind her. Wanda sent an apologetic smile at Y/N as she passed by her before stopping abruptly to prevent to fall into Natasha. The plastics suddenly stopped and Wanda lifted her head up to look what was happening and her heart fell down at her feet when she watched Kate and Travis kiss in front of her. "Hm, hey babe. You should push your hair back like this." Wanda watched as Kate slipped her fingers in Travis’ hair and pulled them back, a gesture that Wanda was sure was overly sexual to spite her, "Wanda, tell him her looks better with his hair pushed back."

Wanda swallowed the jealousy she felt bubbling up in her throat and, after taking a calming breath, spoke up with a blank stare, "you look better with your hair pushed back."

With that Kate walked with Travis, Natasha and Cassie out of the school, while Wanda stayed back to catch up with Y/N and Bucky. "What a fucking cunt." Y/N exclaimed, pulling Wanda’s eyes away from the door Kate and Travis just walked out and nod at her in agreement.

"She’s such an asshole."

"We need to hit harder. Cassie is the next one. We need to put her best friends against her."

"I can’t. She is too fragile." Wanda countered back with a sad expression on her face and Y/N sighed out disappointed.

"Dude, she just forced you to compliment Travis when she knows you like him. We need to hit hard. You will end up with Travis as soon as she is off her throne."

"I’ll end up with Travis as soon as she is off her throne." Wanda repeated with a dreamy expression and Y/N grinned widely at her as she started to give in.

"Yes bitch."

"Okay, let’s do it."

"Guys, it worked. Cassie told me a lot of Kate’s secrets. Did you know last year she convinced a girl from the opposite team to not wear her underwear during a game and while they were playing she pushed her pants down and made her flash her intimate parts to thousands of people just to score?"

"That would be something Kate would do, yeah." Bucky nodded after imagining it in his mind, sipping on his tea gently.

"As much as despicable that was, we don’t need it. Anything else we can use against her?"

"She is cheating on Travis. With Ryan Perrick. Every Tuesday and Thursday in the janitor’s closet." Wanda spoke right away, not even thinking about anything else Cassie told her in the school’s bathrooms.

"What? Holy shit, that’s perfect! This way our plan will be over. You’ll see." Y/N grinned mischievously at Wanda as she clicked her cup with Bucky’s one.

"Oh and she also told me Kate is trying a new Japanese or something technique to have perfect skin. I thought it would’ve been useful."

"Yeah, it will definitely will. Buck go get that lard jar in my kitchen. We’re gonna give Kate some new, expensive Italian facial cream." Y/N spoke with a too sweet tone as her eyes lighted up enthusiastically, her best friend running into the kitchen as a snicker left his lips.

"The Queen Bee just got dethroned." Y/N stated with a delighted sigh after taking a seat in her History class, looking at Bucky with the same facial expression.

"Yeah."

"That’s what I call a perfect plan. Kate lost all her power." Y/N high-fived Bucky enthusiastically before eyeing Wanda weirdly as she applied lip gloss on her lips. She shrugged it off and smiled once again at the girl, "hey, are you free this weekend? My art exhibition is this Friday."

"This Friday? Oh no, I can’t. I have this thing with my family. We already have tickets. I’m so sorry." Wanda looked remorseful at Y/N for just a moment before she turned back around and continued touching up her makeup happily, looking herself through the small mirror in her hand.

"Yeah, you really look sorry." Y/N eyed Wanda and scoffed, shaking it off and looking at Bucky, who shrugged at her.

"Do you want to watch a movie tonight? We are watching another scary movie. I love watching Y/N pee herself from the fright." Y/N turned around in her seat and punched Bucky on his shoulder, who chuckled happily at his mocking, but Wanda kept staring at herself in her mirror, not looking at their friends once.

"Oh, I can’t tonight. I have plans with Cassie and Nat."

"But the plan is over." Y/N furrowed her eyebrows confused, but Wanda just shrugged as she sat up, Y/N and Bucky looking at her confused.

"I know, but I want to have fun with one last strike. I’ll see you tomorrow. Kisses."

Y/N and Bucky stared at Wanda appalled and watched her walk away, Bucky waving unconvinced at her before shrugging at each other as their professor showed up a moment later.

"Oh God."

"You dirty, little liar." Y/N exclaimed as she walked towards Wanda with fury burning behind her eyes.

"I’m sorry! I can explain."

"Explain what? That you forgot to invite us to your party?"

"You know I couldn’t invite you. I had to pretend to be a plastic."

"Hey, hon, this is not pretending anymore. You became a plastic too. Cold, shiny, hard plastic." Y/N scoffed with a roll of her eyes and went to walk away to join Bucky, waiting on his bike, but stopped and turned around to send a withering glare to Wanda, clearly not over with the conversation yet. "Did you have fun with your new awesome friends? Had some fantastic shots and just had a great overall time with each other’s awesomeness?" Y/N mocked Wanda with an overly sweet tone, watching as a frown appeared on her face, but she couldn’t care less if she hurt her. She was done with her shit.

"Y’know what? You made me do this shit for your own 8th grade personal revenge, do not blame me."

"Ah shit, at least me and Kate know we are mean. You only like to play the victim for your own good."

"You know what?! It’s not my fault you’re like in love with me or something." Bucky gasped loudly as he put his hand on his chest while Y/N froze on her spot with an annoyed expression on her face.

"Oh no, she did not."

"What?! You see, this is the problem with you plastics. You think everyone is in love with you when news flash baby, everyone HATES you. Including Vis, that after dumping Kate, he still doesn’t want you. You are a mean girl, just like Kate. Here." Y/N threw a rolled up paper to Wanda and walked away with a loud scoff, "you can have this. It won a prize."

"And I want my pink shirt back!"

The next day Y/N and Bucky strolled into what they couldn’t call a school anymore. People were fighting with papers scattered all over the floor and on the walls. They eyed in disbelief what was unfolding in front of them and dodged a few girls pulling at their hair as they finally arrived at Y/N’s locker, where a paper with a picture with her and Bucky was attached on it. Y/N picked it up with her eyebrows furrowed curiously before anger boiled under her skin at the words written under the picture, "Y/N, the pyro-lez?!"

"Bucky is too gay to function." Bucky read out loud and Y/N gasped outraged.

"Hey! I only can say that." Y/N slammed her hand with the paper on her thigh and assessed the caos that was still taking place in the hallway. Girls in the whole school were fighting. Two of them were slamming another one on the lockers on their right, other two were trying to punch another one in the face, one was trying to bite another girl on her ear. It was a mess. Bucky screeched loudly when a girl got thrown right beside him and he cowered behind Y/N, who rolled her eyes somewhat amused at his behavior. "There she is. The new Queen Bee." Y/N spoke purposefully out loud when Wanda walked beside her and both stared at Wanda hard, narrowing their eyes at her when she tried to wave at them, but the principal’s voice booming over the hallways interrupted her. Y/N noticed a smug Kate Bishop standing beside him with her arms crossed and she instantly knew this was all her fault.

"Every girl in the gym. NOW!"

"Okay, who’s next? Oh Y/N, go on." Y/N smiled at her teacher and walked up the makeshift stage, looking one more time at the paper with the apology she wrote on it and prepared to speak up.

"Oh this will be awesome. Maybe she will lit something on fire." Kate spoke up from the crowd, making everyone laugh at her joke, while Y/N bit the inside of her cheek and balled her paper up, throwing it on the ground.

"Okay, I have some apologies to make I guess. I have a new friend, she is a new student. And I convinced her it would’ve been fun messing up with Kate Bishop’s life. I had her pretend to be friends with her and then she would come to my house after so we could laugh about all the dumb things Kate said. Oh and we gave her some bars that would make her gain weight and then we turned her best friends against her. What else- oh yeah- and then Wanda- oh you know my friend Wanda, right?" Y/N pointed to the redhead on her left, making everyone stare at her a few moments before focusing her attention back on herself, "she told him Kate was cheating on him and then she convinced him to break up with her." The anger appearing on Kate’s face was the peak of Y/N’s week, but she kept going with a proud smirk on her lips, "oh and we switched lard for her face cream." Y/N chuckled softly under her breath, "but then it all went to shit because apparently Wanda is just like Kate Bishop. So the apologies are for me." Y/N flipped the bird to Kate and instead of falling into the crowd like everyone did before her, she hopped down the makeshift stage and walked out of the gym and out of the school, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion when she turned around and noticed everyone else was following her. Well not exactly her, but apparently Kate and Wanda fighting a few feet from her, also walking out of the school. She then exited the school and crossed the road to go to Bucky’s bike and wait for him there. She leaned her butt on his friend’s bike and watched Kate standing in the middle of the street fighting badly with Wanda but after a few moments everyone gasped loudly when they saw some stupid student run Kate over with his car.

Luckily Kate only suffered from a back and neck injury, but she was overly fine. Despite that, Y/N had to fight against her guilty feelings. If she didn’t let her hatred for what Kate did to her take over her, Kate wouldn’t have been run over by a car. She knew it was stupid thinking that, but she couldn’t help it. After a long chat with Bucky, he convinced her it wasn’t her fault. None of that was her fault. And luckily Kate was okay. They also stopped talking to Wanda, who went back to being ignored and eat in the bathroom, but the two best friends didn’t gave a shit about her. She was a bitch to them and she deserved it all. After a strangely calm month, the Spring Fling finally rolled over. Y/N had to endure a lot of convincing from Bucky, but after trying for the umpteenth time, she finally gave in and went with him as his plus one. She chose a purple suit that, as Bucky stated ‘hugged her in all the right places’, while Bucky chose a classic black one. "Damn Buck, you almost look straight tonight."

"Bitch, you know I will never be. Here put the flower you so nicely gifted me in my pocket."

"You are supposed to do it to me, not the way around, dude." Y/N reasoned with a chuckle but grabbed the white rose from Bucky’s hands nonetheless and did what he asked her to, before smiling widely when he pulled another white rose from behind his back and placed it in her suit pocket too.

"Let‘s go break some hearts." Y/N laughed heartily at Bucky’s joke and let him pull her out of his house and into his car, jamming to loud songs as they drove towards their school.

"Holy shit."

The party was already in full swing when they entered the gym, now all decorated for the Spring Fling, and Y/N and Bucky stopped at the entrance to take over the room, their eyes watching people dancing on the floor, drinking at the tables or smoking under the bleachers. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Are you kidding me? There’s no way I’m going through this hell without being drunk." Y/N deadpanned with a serious, almost scared face, causing a small laugh to escape Bucky’s lips before he shook his head and pushed her towards the table where punch was on.

Wanda, after making up with Bucky, let him lead her to Y/N, finding her dancing with a few guys and girls from the A.V. Club. She watched her a few moments before taking a big, grounding breath and then tapped on Y/N’s shoulder, watching her turn around and noticing she still had the piece of crown she threw at her after winning in her hand, and with an hopeful tone she asked, "so- friends?" She batted her big doe eyes at Y/N and patiently waited for Y/N’s answer.

"I don’t know, are you still a bitch?"

"No." Wanda smiled softly at the girl and immediately shook her head, her gesture making a small grin grow on Y/N’s stoic face too, instantly calming her nerves down.

"Then we’re cool. C’mere." Y/N chuckled and circled her arms around Wanda, hugging her close for a few moments.

"I don’t know how is that possible, but Kate apologized too, in some twisted and confused way in the bathroom." Wanda told Y/N with a still perplexed expression, her mind still reeling from that moment.

"Oh really? I would’ve loved to witness it. Where is Vis?"

"It didn’t workout. He is with a girl from his science class now." Wanda told Y/N with a resigned shrug and Y/N caressed her shoulder gently in apology.

"Oh I’m so sorry." Bucky butted in, caressing Wanda’s shoulder too, who smiled at her friends gratefully.

"It doesn’t matter."

"We can always make up a plan to make him pay." Y/N joked, giggling at Wanda when she widened her eyes and shook her head furiously.

"No, no, no, no. I’m done with revenge."

"That’s fair." Y/N nodded still giggling and circled her arm around Wanda’s shoulders, Bucky hugging her torso from the other side.

"Besides, I already forgot about him. I just want to have fun with my friends tonight."

"That‘s it, bitch. Let’s go have another drink." Y/N smiled widely and pushed them to the table where all the drinks were, but Bucky stopped her and pulled her and Wanda to the dance floor instead.

"It can wait. Let’s go dance now, bitches!"

"No! I need to drink. Wanda is your dancing buddy from now on." Y/N chuckled as successfully sneaked away from Bucky’s hands and waved through the sea of people to finally walk towards the table where the spiked punch was, grabbed a red cup to fill and took a sip of the strong drink as she leaned her ass on a random table to catch some breath, not noticing she stopped at the table where Kate was sat in. "Hey." Y/N smiled awkwardly at the black haired girl staring at her just a few feet from her and waved at her with her free hand.

"Oh, hey Y/N!" Kate was definitely high from medications if her hooded eyes were anything to go by, and Y/N still smiled awkwardly at the plastic, watching as she blinked a few times into space before struggling to grab her fancy cup and trying to drink from it, only to huff out in frustration when her collar prevented her to.

Y/N sighed out loud and debated with herself for a few moments if she should help Kate or not. A few moments later she made up her mind. She wasn’t a monster. "Fuck it." Y/N whispered under her breath and sat up, walking over Kate and placing her red cup on the table before grabbing Kate’s glass from her hands and sliding gently between Kate’s slightly open legs to let her drink easily and prevent it to spill on Kate’s dress, "here, let me help you."

Kate stared at Y/N gratefully and drank softly from the cup, never moving her eyes away from Y/N. Y/N suppressed an entertained smile by biting on her bottom lip at Kate rolling her eyes slightly back in delight as she drank, "thank you."

Y/N nodded with a soft smile and stared into Kate’s blue eyes for just a moment then started to move away from her, but she just had the time to move to the side from Kate’s slightly open legs before two hands grabbed her waist and pushed her down, making her sit on Kate’s lap. "O-kay."

Y/N smiled awkwardly down at Kate, who stared back at her with a dopey smile while her arms circled around Y/N’s waist, making her gasp softly under her breath at the sudden gesture. "Hm, you smell nice."

Y/N tapped with the palm of her hand the top of Kate’s glass before moving it on top of Kate’s head and tapped her hair gently when Kate leaned her head as much as her collar allowed her to into Y/N’s neck and breathe her perfume in, an awkward smile stretching over Y/N’s lips, "thanks, I guess?"

"You look nice too. I love purple." Kate leaned her head slightly more into Y/N’s neck and hummed softly as she hugged her tightly.

"Kate, what is this?" Y/N couldn’t help but ask after staying awkwardly into Kate’s arms for a few seconds, staring at her seriously and almost regretted using an harsh tone when she noticed the vulnerability swirling into Kate’s blue eyes when she pulled away to stare into her own Y/E/C irises.

"It’s me missing my best friend. I’m sorry I treated you like shit. I really liked spending time with you."

"Kate, you’re high." Y/N shook her head to prevent her brain to fall for the girl’s games again, putting a metaphorical space between them. She wasn’t going to let Kate fuck her up again.

"Maybe. My pills make me like everyone. Can you believe I said I liked Lili’s dress? And she is wearing orange! Who the fuck likes orange?"

Y/N shook her head and breathed out a small laugh. Kate didn’t change so much. And she somehow loved it. "Are you okay?"

"My back hurts a bit, but with you here with me, I feel better."

"Okay, you are definitely so fucking high." Y/N stated with an amused laugh and looked at Kate when she pulled away to observe people dance distractedly. She found herself getting lost in taking Kate in, from her perfectly styled hair, to her light make up, then moving her eyes down her green dress and appreciating it hugging her body as it was starting to become lean and muscular again. Luckily, before she started ogling at her exposed chest, Kate’s voice pulled her out of her inappropriate daze.

"I wanna dance." Y/N sighed out happily when she moved her eyes away from Kate’s chest a moment before she met her eyes and smiled innocently at her, nodding slightly at her.

"Are you sure you can with-?" Y/N waved her hand around her head and neck to point to Kate’s collar situation, but the black haired girl just nodded slightly at her with the same dopey smile.

"Yeah, dummy. It’s here for a reason." Kate laughed loudly at her own joke that Y/N clearly missed but laughed unconvinced alongside her before widening her eyes comically when Kate patted her butt a few times, "get up, we’re dancing." Y/N sat up slowly as her mind still reeled for Kate’s gesture, so much lost in her head she just let Kate grab her hand and pull her towards the dance floor where Bucky and Wanda were still dancing. What the fuck?

"Look who finally decided to join us again! And she brought fresh meat!" Bucky exclaimed, screeching loudly when Kate went towards him and took his hand to dance. Y/N watched Bucky carefully spun her around before the two started dancing back to back in a someway funny way. It was weird watching Kate so care-free but Y/N liked it nonetheless.

"Y/N! C’mere!" Y/N widened her eyes comically when Kate pulled on her hand and turned her around quickly, making her slam her back on Kate’s front as her arms circled her waist.

"Kate- are you-?"

"Shut up and dance." Y/N swallowed the rest of her question as nodded, before swallowing once again at Kate moving her hips to the rhythm and occasionally hitting Y/N’s butt. Was she really grinding on her?

"Oh fuck it." Y/N exclaimed under her breath at her mind reeling and let herself go on the dance floor for once, thanking the alcohol in her system for that. After a few beats of dancing seductively with Kate, she grabbed Wanda’s hand when she stood in front of her and danced care-freely to the EDM music blasting loudly through the speakers in their gym.

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444rockstargf · 10 months

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"be a good baby, do what i want." | dan cooper

off to the races. - lana del rey

summary: trying out a toy on dan.

dom!reader x sub!dan

contents: masturbation, use of vibrator

not proofread.

you had him wrapped around your finger. he was your little bitch, and he knew it too. all you had to do was ask him to put on the slutty little maid dress that you'd gotten for him, and he did it in a heartbeat.

you took a sliky black ribbon and tied a bow in his hair, making him look perfect for what you had planned for tonight.

dan had been very good at hiding his curiousity, but by this point he couldn't take it anymore. "so, uh, why'd you have me get into this, anyway..?" he asked nervously. you found it adorable how he was already slightly intimidated.

"don't worry about it, danny. just trust me. you know i'd never do anything to hurt you." you smiled sweetly, patting his cheek. you couldve sworn you heard him purr. "now, get on the bed." you tone had gone from sweet and smooth like honey to a firm and dominating one.

dan didnt even hesitate to follow your instruction. he got onto the bed, looking at you as he waited for your next move. you grinned a little as you walked to the drawer, pulling out a cardboard box from it.

you walked over to dan and handed the box to him. he shook it gently, trying to make out what was inside. "open it." you said softly. dan quickly took off the top of the box. the suspense was killing him.

you watched him intently, waiting for him reaction when he saw the box's contents. as he saw what was inside, his cheeks immediately flushed an embarrassed shade of red. "o-oh..." was all he could manage to get out.

the box held a variation of sex toys. dildos of different sizes, shapes, and colours. vibrators with many different settings and intensities. and buttplugs of every colour of the rainbow. it was clear that you'd been saving all of these up for a special occasion.

"so, what do you think..?" you ask, a nervous smile creeping up on your face. dan cleared his throat. "i-i... i t-think that..." he was a mess, and you hadnt even gotten to the main event yet. you laugh softly before kissing him on the forehead.

"just... trust me with this. you'll enjoy it. i promise." you held out your pinky to him. he hooked his with yours, giving you a little smile. your excitement grew as you got his approval. you wanted to get started right away.

"alright. lets start simple." you pull out a battery-powered pink vibrator, handing it to dan. "it's all clean, dont worry." you assured him, but he still looked completely clueless.

"w-what exactly am i supposed to do here..?" his voice dripped with uncertainty, so you decided to give him a little push in the right direction. "just sit back and relax. then you can take over once your comfortable, ok?" he nodded, feeling a little better.

you moved his hand to his crotch, feeling his bulge pressing against the fabric of the maid dress. you giggled a little to yourself before pulling it out, revealing his swollen, red cock.

dan's breath hitched as he felt your hand on his length, already getting needier. you wasted no time turning the vibrator on to the first setting and pressing it against his tip.

he gasped at the feeling before letting out a few slurred words. "o-oh..! oh g-god..." he moaned out, his hips already bucking into the toy. you smiled as you turned it up to the second setting, the vibrations getting stronger.

his mouth gaped open as precum already started spilling from his tip. he was gripping the bed sheets as if his life depended on it, biting his lip to hold back his noises.

you noticed this right away. "i wanna hear your noises, danny..." you move the vibrator up and down his length, earning a few whimpers from him as his cock began to twitch.

you turned the vibrations to the third setting, causing dan's legs to start shaking as his moans and whimpers got louder. he was gasping for air like a fish out of water, and you loved it.

you moved it up to the fourth setting, his eyes shutting as he feels his climax rushing through him. he starts moving his cock against the vibrator, desperate to get more friction between it and his aching dick.

just as you sensed him getting closer, you moved it up to the highest setting, making dan completely fall apart. but before he could cum, you turned the vibrator off, grinning.

"n-no..! p-please... i-i need to cum! i need it!" he begged, tears rolling down his red cheeks. you smiled at him before handing him the vibrator. "i think you've got the hang of it now. so, give me a show." you say, leaning back on the bed with him on full display for you.

he desperately took the toy and turned it on to the maximum setting, immeidately pressing it onto his throbbing cock. his lips parted as he quickly became a moaning mess, uncontrollably bucking his hips into the toy.

he used his unoccupied hand to start jerking himself off while the vibrator was pressed to his tip. he cried out, jerking himself off at lightning speed. his hot cum started shooting out of him, staining the fabric of the dress.

but he didnt stop yet, he kept on going with it until he had milked himself completely dry. he came all over the dress and the bed. you watched the entire thing with a massive grin on your face.

as he came down from his climax, he spoke to you, breathlessly. "im gonna be borrowing this a lot now if thats alright with you." he smiled and you laughed before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

author's note: im glad i got this finished, writers block is a motherfucker. but anyway, i hope you all liked this one!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #dan cooper #danny cooper #intruders #intruders 2015 #lana del rey

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rebel-at-heart713 · 7 months

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Some of my favorite quotes from “Percy Jackson and the Chalice of the Gods.

1. “Look, I didn't want to be a high school senior. I was hoping my dad could write me a note:

Dear Whoever,

Please excuse Percy Jackson from school forever and just give him the diploma.

Thanks, Poseidon”

Already starting off strong I see.

2. “ My second thought was: Why do the gods keep losing their magic items? It was like a job requitement for them:

1) become a god, 2) get a cool magic thing, 3) lose it,

4) ask a demigod to find it. Maybe they just enjoyed doing it, the way cats like knocking things off tables.”

Percy still has his snark I see.

3. “I am a guy of limited talents. If I can't kill it with water, a sword, or sarcasm, I am basically defenseles. I come preloaded with sarcasm. The pen-sword is always in my pocket. Now I had access to water, so I was as prepared as I could ever be.”

See even he knows his sarcasm is a weapon.

4. “A shiver ran across my shoulders. The last thing the world needed was boomers aging backward, like, We enjoyed monopolizing the planet so much the first time, we're going to do it again!”

Too true!!

5. “ "Do I get to say this is a terrible idea, too?" Grover asked.

"Just do your best," Annabeth said. "You're the fastest runner. You're also the only one who speaks Chicken."

"Technically Chicken isn't a distinct language," he said, "though many animal dialects sound just like Chicken…”

"Dude, just yell at them," I suggested "Do you any fowl insults?"

"This is a family amusement center!"

"Where they are trying to kill us for complaining

"Good point," Grover said. "I will insult the chickens” “

This chaotic conversation. Another for the unhinged moments like the Dam scene.

6. “I also didn't want to die, but at least if I got killed down here, Annabeth would feel really bad about pushing me. Then I could tease her about it forever.

Except I'd be dead. Never mind.”

Love that.

7. “—and also how the kite had gotten zapped by lightning (in the middle of a sunny day) as soon as it was airborne. Even back then, before I knew I was a demigod, Zeus had been watching me. Because that's what you do when you're the king of the gods. You spend your valuable time being as petty as possible, frying forbidden kids' kites out of the sky for fun.”

Of course Zeus is a petty bitch.

8. “I remembered learning about some Norse wolf named Garm, but I wasn't the Mighty Thor, so I didn't want to cross that particular Rainbow Bridge. I had enough to worry about on the Greek side.”

The nice little nod to the Magnus Chase series before he knows it’s a thing.

I added these to my notes as I read this when it came out. I wanted to give some time before posting it. I’ll still mark spoilers even though I don’t think these give much away.

#percy jackson #spoilers #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #hoo #heroes of olympus #rick riordan #chalice of the gods #pjo chalice of the gods #pjo spoilers #percy jackson quotes #funny quotes #pjo quotes #chalice of the gods spoilers #annabeth chase #grover underwood

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melodrangea · 5 months

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Hello! I see that requests are open and I am in need of more SE content, so I figured I would just slide on in! I realise you said obscure characters, so I don't expect this to be answered because my home boy is one of the main characters, feel free to ignore this! But I've been so obsessed with the idea of Kid with a reader who kinda just let's people walk all over them. They're too shy to speak up! And out of fear of upsetting Kid they dress as symmetrically as they can! They even started folding their toilet paper and picking up various other habits to please him:') Since they tag along with him everywhere he and the sisters go, they figured it was the least they could do:')))) So maybe one day something happens to say... maybe their outfit or smth? Perhaps it tears on a mission in a way that is asymmetrical. They start crying cuz they are afraid Kid will yell at them or worse- stop talking to them entirely! How does Kid react?

Stay hydrated and eat well!!!!! OR I'LL TAKE YOUR SOUL>:DDDD (Politely ofc U_U) 💛💛💛💛💛💛

Firstly I would like to say I'M FINALLY BACK BITCHES

Between holidays and my computer breaking and needing a new one I was unable to post for the longest time because shipping is a bitch but I'm totally back now and will be posting at least once or twice a week!

Now! Getting back into it...

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-Kid would be the type to absolutely not realize that you are doing all that you do to please him

-he would love the matching outfits and all the symmetric habits you pick up but he figures that's just what happens in relationships and that you enjoys his habits

-after hanging out with them for a period of time, Liz does pick up on what you're doing and worries that you are doing it for different reasons than Kid thinks

-but she doesn't say anything because it doesn't seem to be really affecting you

-that is until you go on a mission together

-you and your weapon partner go on a joint mission with Kid to spend more time together and because Kid wanted to be able to protect you

-anyways the fight gets under swing and slowly but surely you're taking damage

-you don't notice but you outfit it coming undone; the laces rip on your right shoe, one of the buttons on your shirt gets torn off and you build up battle grime etc..

-once the fight is over you go to swipe the hair out of your face when you realize a part of you bangs has been trimmed on the left side

-you panic and inspect the rest of your outfit, realizing the rest of the imperfections in your outfit

-without even meaning to your eyes start to fill with tears, terrified that Kid is going to be upset with you, you heart begins to race and you feel your heartbeat in your ears

-you weapon partner is off assessing damage with Liz and Patty so Kid is the first to notice you upset

-he rushes over to you, at first thinking that you got hurt

"y/n are you alright? are you injured?" his eyes scan over you, hands rubbing soothingly across your jaw.

your lip quivers and tears stream down your cheeks, "I'm sorry" you whisper.

Kid's brow scrunches, "for what?"

you release a shaky breath, "I don't look perfect anymore. One of my buttons is gone, my shoes are dirty, I think that guy with the sword chopped my hair. Please don't be mad at me."

Kid frowns, "oh darling, what makes you think any of that matters to me? I admit I like symmetry but you could be wearing rainbow tie-dye and glow in the dark sketchers for all that I care. "

your eyes widen, "really?"

"really"

-after that mission you slowly start to develop your own style, occasionally swinging for matching outfits of course

-Liz helps Kid point out other habits that you copy unintentionally and helps you to gently shut them down

-Kid is your biggest supporter in helping you choose your own style, he can and will take you shopping whenever you feel like (live laugh love Kid's daddy's money agenda)

-and if you want to keep some of the habits you've picked up Kid is also happy because it means that you like him for who he is <3

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tis all for now my lovelies

please don't be shy about asking because you think the character is "too mainstream", I'm pretty sure my entire inbox is Kid anyways so his character and I are getting fairly acquainted

as usual I am at your writing service my dears

-Melodrangea <3

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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year

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Nicki Minaj’s The Pinkprint Era (+No Frauds)

#PrettyHeiressDiaries: Eras Edition 🎀

this is my first #PrettyHeiressDiaries post. as i’ve previously stated, this series is going to be me diving into my fav muses and celebs and dissecting what i can take from these lovely ladies. this blog will focus on Nicki Minaj’s branding from 2014-2017 roughly. + a few Queen era looks.

The Pinkprint Era Style Elements:

the pinkprint was alter ego free, and a return to hiphop and r&b for nicki. meaning she was highly stripped of the campy pop rap star we had come to know. it was chic DOWN. think collector barbie vs the harajuku barbie. don’t mistake me though, onika was still very in touch with her cutesy girly side. there was a balance of sexy and chic with a few drops of cute. and this is why the pinkprint era is my absolute favorite, with her looks being a standard i follow for a lot of my looks.

nicki’s cute mirrors 🎀

nicki’s iconic black barbie insta selfies, wearing real hair or natural extensions(often textured ponytails and blowouts), minimal makeup and natural beats 🎀

lots of black and neutrals, statement purses (often times chanel) 🎀

nicki makes a return to the harajuku barbie aesthetic during the pinkprint tour 🎀 +

prissy pink looks i loved from this era 🎀

No Frauds Era Style Elements:

after the pinkprint era was dying down and nicki had become the victim of “the nicki hate train,” her style was still reminiscent of pinkprint. but i would say her branding shifted from the demure somewhat sweetheart to more of an unapologetically bad bitch. this is marked as the “no frauds era” (the time between pinkprint and queen)

glamorous gowns, grandiose blingy bodysuits and adornments, continuing from the pinkprint aesthetic, she’s still wearing natural glams and hairstyles 🎀 +

latex catsuits, lacey looks, pink as seen in the paper magazine cover and the motorsport video 🎀

literally queen couture (tiaras, headpieces, and maximalist furs), the subtle return of the barbie chain, 40 inch “you b*tches can’t even spell prague” naomi/cher hair 🎀

My Fav Queen Era Looks:

ex. tusa videoshoot, harpers bazaar vietnam cover, 2018 vma look, chun li cover art look, 2018 harpers bazaar look 🎀

So What Can We Learn?

Nicki’s style has never been anything short of ultra femme and makes it clear she’s not afraid to take up space and your attention.

As her branding and look shifts through these eras, it’s as if she’s becoming more aggressive with the her fashion to speak to the public.

During The Pinkprint Era, she said “Look, I can put the pink wigs and rainbow paint away and still capture attention while making quality work. Respect me.”

The No Frauds Era saw her evolve into a more flashy Nicki while taking hints of her past looks to say “I AM the greatest, you will NEVER top me, and I can remind you who I am.” Note the Barbie chain while also dressing like modern day royalty.

Nicki Minaj is a highly polarizing figure in pop culture but that should not stop us from acknowledging the cultural resets she’s delivered us in the fashion and beauty industry. When she said “I got all these girls wantin’ to be Barbie Dollz,” it wasn’t just a line, ITS TRUE. So many influential girls on instagram look like either Nicki, Kim K, or Madison Beer, just to name a few. The girls have taken a heavy note from the colored hair, bussdown middle part inches, bulky chains, all while trying to maintain an untouchable level of HYPERFEMININITY. An actual BLACK BARBIE.

-PrettyHeiressDiaries 🎀

credits: nathyyy and blessing mukosha via youtube, @thevirgodoll and @babyphat05’s breakdowns on femmes in the culture on the respective personal blogs.

#prettyheiressdiaries #nicki #my posts #some looks are places in a different time period purely for aesthetic reasons

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wildlife4life · 4 months

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Inspiration Saturday

Tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings Thank you!

Do I have other wips besides NFL Buck? Yes. But lately I have been on an writing roll with this fic and I love all the anticipation there is for it. So, here is a mood board (collage?) and short snippet for inspiration Saturday. It is a continuation of Buck's perspective of draft night from yesterday. (Go here for all things NFL Buck)

"Ali is the sneakiest bitch." Buck mumbles in his boyfriend's shoulder and it shakes with his amusement, "She's also becoming my favorite person in the world." Eddie unburied his face from Buck's hair and dragged the tip of his nose down to press into the younger man's temple, "I agree with the sneakiness. I'm still trying to figure out how the hell she was able to get me in the theater to see you be drafted on such short notice. Also, either Ali is the nicest, most compelling agent or just downright frightening because that woman got the hotel staff to break their privacy policy and give me a key to your room over the fucking phone." Buck lets out a barking laugh and squeezed Eddie even tighter, "I've learned to never question her methods and just enjoy the end results." He pulled his face from the paramedic's shoulder and put a scant few inches between them so he could look into those soft tawny eyes he'd had hoped to see this day. God they were so much better than his imagination, wide and sparkling with pride and elation. "I am enjoying this result so fucking much." Eddie's warm calloused hand gently clamped the back of Buck's neck and closed the short distance put between them. Plush, warm lips pressed eagerly into Buck's and pushed away the last of his disheartened emotions from the draft. Almost everything he'd been wanting that evening, came to fruition, just not in the way he expected. But it was okay. Buck was kissing a man who he never even hoped of finding, yet here was Eddie, wanting him, loving him just as much as Buck does. The unexpected, helped him achieve his NFL dreams and so much more. So it was okay that Christopher wasn't present. Buck would see his best friend in a few short days and throw a just as grand celebration with him. (As for Maddie, soon the rookie quarterback will have the means and connections to help her.) It was okay that a part of himself had to be kept hidden, it wouldn't be forever. Eddie supported and understood staying a secret because he truly loved Buck and wanted him to achieve his dreams. It was okay and the ache in Buck's chest loosened. He still wants so much, but Buck understands he can't have it all at once. For the time being, he can embrace what he already has and that especially applied to his surprise guest. Eddie's kiss deepened and the fingers on his free hand traced the top button on the Texan's draft pick's dress shirt. Buck's own hands released their tight grip on Eddie's forearms and slid down to his hips. Buck breaks the kiss, just a for a quick second to whisper, "I want you." "You have me." Eddie replies breathlessly before giving Buck a devilish smirk, "But you can have me however you want." And Buck is definitely okay with that.

I know we all want things to be more than okay for Buck and Eddie. And maybe it will be. Or maybe, just maybe I really put these the boys through the ringer a few times... Wouldn't be a 911 fic if I didn't. Lol. But I do hope you all enjoyed!!!!!

Tagging (no pressure): @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @lover-of-mine @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @rainbow-nerdss @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @eddiescowboy @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @transboybuckley

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brekkie-e · 7 months

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I have mixed feelings on the discussion about how "nice" Astarion gets if you go the Spawn route with him. Now, I am not reading fic so I've not personally seen the extent of how far people are running with the “redeemed” narrative. I might be completely unaware of some truly unhinged “Astarion helps old ladies cross the road with a smile on his face and kindness in his heart” takes. And I will be the first to point out his approval in Act 3 doesn’t always point towards a huge change of heart.

The flip side of that conversation that I’m not seeing discussed that much is the way Astarion talks about himself as well as the way the companions talk about him after choosing the spawn ending. In the scenes directly afterwards, and even in the epilogue a bit- you can see a very changed man. Not necessarily a humane society volunteer, but at the very least someone who’s taking responsibility for their life and viewing the world in a way they hadn’t before. Spawn Astarion’s growth cut scenes were almost jarring for me to watch after years of being comfortable with the bitch boy from Early Access.

Astarion is not the only one talking that way though! Karlach, Wyll, Minthara, Jaheira! They all respond to him as though he is a changed man. I scoured to find the actual lines since I’m away from my computer, but no luck. That being said, I do know that pretty much each companion reacts to his decision not to follow through with Ascension and his time afterwards by essentially saying, “You can’t fool me, we know you’re a good person.” In various degrees of intensity.

I know in his dialogue with Minthara he dead ass says, “Yep, love fixed me. I’m better now.” And he says it with zero shame, he’s happy about it.

At points the way the companions and he talk about it makes me frustrated with certain reactions and approvals that remain in Act 3. The further you get from finishing his plot line, the less of a changed man he really seems. His approvals in general still line up with Ascended Astarion’s. Some of his reactions to things seem out of touch with the man seen in the grave yard. For example, his reaction to being cheated on with Mizzora. Not only does his acceptance of that just seem like a different character than the one we see in his scenes after the palace, a man who clearly views your relationship as a serious commitment that he is proud of. But it also seems bizarre that he would be okay with you betraying Wyll at this point in the story. The man we see telling the spawn to go to the underdark, who thanks Tav for standing by him, and gushes about being excited to live again and embrace the good with the bad seems entirely juxtaposed to the asshole he continues to be.

Which is not to say that I want him to be all sunshine and rainbows. It just seems inconsistent. I think a part of that comes from the need to keep his reactions neutral enough that they might work for both endings. The problem with that being that Ascended and Spawn Astarion are such vastly different people in their main story scenes that it’s kind of impossible to line them back up again afterward. For me, it was hard to find it believable. Either his post Cazzador scenes were out of character, or his continued reaction scenes were out of character- it just depends on which you prefer.

Circling back to my original point, I guess what I’m trying to say is that his graveyard scenes and the companion commentary do make me think that he is still heading in a redemption arc direction. That it isn’t inherently out of character for him to be written as a character with a complicated relationship with morality, but more often than not ending up on the good side of the spectrum these days. The way I interpret it, it’s not so much because suddenly he’s altruistic and nice. It’s that he’s actively choosing change, which feels like a continuation of his recovery. He’s surrounded by people who hold him accountable. He’s trying to be better than he was. He’s trying to do right by the people who have helped him. He’s still going to bitch about it, and act like it’s stupid. But he’s going to independently prompt that the group save the kid from the hag because “that’s just what we do, I’m done fighting that reality.” In his post-Cazzador life, his only real loyalty is to his team. If that team is full of annoying do-gooders? Their his annoying do-gooders. He’ll complain about it, but he’d not trade his found family for anything. It kind of gives Loki in Thor: Ragnorak showing up with the ship. Or Megamind saving the city. I’m here. I’m going to be the hero because I guess I have to. I’m going to be positively insufferable about it though.

I certainly don’t think he’d be nice all the time. I think he’d still be a loose canon that lashes out. He’s in the middle of healing, not at the end of it. But I think if his redemption journey ends where it did in the game, the emphasis on how changed he was in his scenes and the companion commentary was a bit over done.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #astarion ancunin #brekkie thoughts #idk it’s late this is kind of rambles #apologies #i dont want him to rescue puppies or anything i just think him being the bitchiest hero is fun #like ugh i cant believe i am gonna rescue that old lady #random passer by: you don’t have to #astarion: oh no #im gonna

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 4 months

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I'm not sure if you've already said this but I'm asking anyway. Since you're the local Flashfam expert and also a PJO lover (you have no idea how happy I am that we like the same things), what godly parents would the Flashfam have? Like, all of the fam. Counting characters like Linda and Iris

And it'd also be cool if you assigned a cabin for the Titans and/or the Young Justice too-

I mean it has to be Hermes. It literally has to be Hermes for the speedsters. Like, maybe we throw in a Roman twist and say Mercury every once in a while, but that's just gotta be the answer.

Jay literally wears Hermes' helmet. Max named himself after Mercury. Barry wears Hermes' winged shoes and has wings on his head. Same with Wally. Jay is also literally given Hermes'/Mercury's powers on Earth-2.

And it makes sense, it really does. God of travellers? Check. The winged aesthetic? Check. God of messengers? Check! God of tricksters, liars and thieves? Look, the speedsters are all of the above just in a VERY chaotic good way. They don't rob people but also when Wally found out that the museum had the bones of a fallen soldier from another country without said countries permission or consent? HE STOLE THEM BACK. Bart has absolutely no qualms taking things, Max has been a thief in the past, Jay and Barry work by pirate rules aka 'if I defeat you, I get your stuff', ect. They don't do armed robbery and they don't like stealing from random citizens, but bad guys are free game.

Iris I have to go on the nose and say Iris because Iris is the goddess of messengers and rainbows, and Iris is literally a reporter? So her whole thing is spreading information? While looking stunning.

Linda is an Athena kid 125%. Linda writes books, she was a kickass investigative reporter, she went to med school, she knows more about speedster biology and how it works than literally anyone else in her home dimension, she regularly fights aliens with no powers and just whatever weapons she finds laying around. Linda is intelligent, she's cunning and witty and she will cut a bitch.

Joan is a Hestia kid. Just... family, love, warmth. Need I say more?

As for the Titans... well, Donna is already taken care of. Garth... is technically also taken care of I think?? Atlanteans exist in Greek mythology so Garth is just the same I think. Roy... fuck it, Ares. I said what I said come at me bro. For Dick I would want to go with a minor god or goddess, I like the idea of him being a child of Psyche (Goddess of the human soul) because he is very human and he understands people on a level that might be considered supernatural. Lilith would be the oracle. Karen would be a child of Hephaestus and Mal would 100% just be a guy who can see through the mist and has a shield.

Gar is the last son of Pan because that's cool AF. Raven would be the daughter of Tartarus I think. Vic would be a son of Apollo. I know it's really easy to go for Hephaestus for Vic but honestly, the key part of Vic's story to me isn't that he's a cyborg, it's that he's human. He's a survivor, who, against all odds, received bat shit crazy medical treatment from his father and survived a fatal accident. I like the idea that Apollo saw a guy doing crazy stuff to advance medical science and was like 'Hey there 😉😉😉😉'. Also pre accident Vic was a football player which has a lot to do with aim, so idk, I just like it. Starfire would be a demigod child of the sun deity on her home planet.

For Young Justice, Cassie and Bart are already covered. Kon would be a legacy of Nemesis (Lex) and a legacy of a deity from Krypton. Cissie would be a daughter of Ares and a legacy of Apollo. Greta would be a child of Morpheus. Tim would be the son of Lachesis. Slobo is Slobo. Anita.... Tbh I want to say she's a legacy of Aphrodite? Love is a huge part of her backstory and I dislike giving the non powered characters godly parentage that explains away their abilities. They worked hard for those skills!

#pjo #yj #titans #flashfam #flash family #dc

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girlfictions · 1 year

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rainbow kitten surprise lyrics are batshit insane like what do you mean “it's second nature to love you, it's first to die” and “was i born a stone? heavy to hold and cold in the hands that you left me to warm in the sun” and “if you really don't mind, take me as i am, take me as i am, when you get a chance, take your time, i understand, believe me when i say i carry all my sins”..... Bitch! 🤯

#i’ve been obsessed w them since i was 14 like we go way back #rks

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