#lurker whines

[gabbyhell]

@ the dickhead who keeps revving his fucking dirt bike: Im going to hunt you for sport

[actualaster]

1 comment is one person who read the work (and hopefully liked it but I've gotten too mamy comments to the contrary to believe the lie that comments are always good lol)

100 hits can be generated by things like bots.

10 kudos is 10 people who stayed with my work long enough to hit a button at the end, and probably liked it to some degree

I will never value comments over kudos when my silent readers are still readers and still whole entire people who enjoy my work. Thank you, people who leave kudos even if you can't comment at the time (or at all, for whatever reason). I know you're there, and I love you for it.

(Also people too shy or nervous to leave kudos on some of my works because you're worried about your account being associated with them especially in the current fandom climate these days and I have fics locked to users only--I can't see you, but I appreciate your existence, too, thank you for also enjoying my works! Lurkers are loved here!)

[bruisedconscience-reblogs]

today i’m thinking about how rare comments are on art that i see in the wild. like, reblog, generic art tag,,, no interaction,,,, the social has recessed it is now media only

[dreamteamemojis]

bbholos on twitter dragging him and @ing him and demanding statements and apologies to them for supporting dream and begging he cut ties with him because they didn't watch the video or they think it wasn't good enough and I hope he gets on stream and tells them all to kill themselves 🫶

[rafesbowbunny]

𝜗𝜚 mean!rafe loves cockwarming but you're not such a huge fan

c!w; mdni !! mean!rafe, desperate reader, cockwarming obviously tehe, bit of degradation ig?, use of the nickname bunny, dumbification sorta, overstimulation?, creampie, writer doesnt know what they're doing lol. notes; first work !! um i apologise in advance bcs i've just been a tumblr lurker... until now lol. pls leave me feedback!

rafe had been fucking you rough for what felt like hours. you were basically seated on his lap, backup against his chest with his cock deep in your sore wet hole. he was always pretty merciless when you had sex but this? this was just cruel.

after rapidly pounding you with his strong arms holding you up slightly by your ass as you yelped and tried to claw at his flexed bicep, he had let you fall hard onto his lap again, but didn't move.

you could feel his piercing smirk adorning his lips even without facing him. the way you wriggled, trying to gain whatever friction you could again, as you sat there begging to cum made him sooo smug.

you tried to move again, dragging your legs up from being splayed out in front of you to gain some height and fuck yourself on his dick, but he stopped you. grabbing at your hips with a bruising grip, "ah ah, you need to be patient baby..."

you whined at his scolding, the feeling of being so full of cock wasn't enough, you needed to move. your lips were red and swollen from pouting and nipping at them all this time, you grabbed one of his hands that was still on your hip, hoping the desperate touch would convince him to let you have your way.

"sooo needy aren't we bunny? god, dick's got you acting all dumb, huh? just want to be fucked soo bad, don't we?" he teased, his words syrupy. he was torturing you on purpose, having fun with it. he could handle the lack of friction, the way you were desperately clenching around him, your cunt fluttering everytime his chest rose and fell because that was basically the only movement you were getting now.

"rafeee" you whined, eyes closed and eyebrows cinched together as if you were in pain, "please... pleaseplease. i need you to move." he loved the way you whined his name, the way you begged, there was almost nothing you could do to get what you want at this point.

you looked down, a creamy line of arousal gathered around the base of rafe's cock. your breathing going all ragged as rafe ignored you and the sight of his cock so deep in your pussy only made you more wet and desperate.

you tilted your head back, getting all dizzy from the pressure of waiting and the way you were breathing too heavily. "aww, 's my bunny getting flustered and dizzy? this cock got you so good all thoughts are gone baby?" rafe chuckled, his hot breath on your neck making you twitch.

"please rafey it's so deep i need you to fuck me so bad..." you said all breathy, his weakness. you figured you might as well pull out all the stops now. with your head leaning back on his shoulder, you could sort of see his face, his jaw ticking in contemplation as you could feel his dick perk up at your words before. you grinned and continued, "rafeee... it's all i want."

he rolled his head to the side before finally moving his hands, one slid from your hip to the heat fresh and pooling in your lower tummy, finding itself on your clit. you gasped at the touch while his other hand slid under your ass, gesturing you to rise up a little again.

as soon as you did, you could hear a little scoff at the back of your neck before he began thrusting into you again, hard and fast. your loud pornagraphic moans bounced off the walls as he groaned into your neck, both of you really winning in the end when you came simultaniously, rafe then fucking the creampie back into you slowly.

"mmh, such a needy dumb bunny" he'd mumbled, still playing with your clit as he watched your pussy swallow the white liquid.

[thetriumphantpanda]

Long time fan, long time lurker. I’m a huge fan of The Checklist and I’ve had this though I had to share (I hope that is okay). What if Joel’s girl is reading a smut book touching herself and trying not to wake him up, dripping and everything, and then imagine Checklist Joel wakes up!

Okay anon but you’re so right? WHAT IF INDEED. I’ve missed these two like CRAZY so here’s a Drabble no-one asked for. ENJOY. Thank you so much for lurking and for bringing out whatever this is….

Part of The Checklist universe

Word count | 943

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | reader uses a kindle and definitely finds her books on smutty booktok, female masterbating, getting caught in the act, soft dom!Joel, oral sex (F), unprotected PiV sex, they are still wildly in love, no outbreak au, no use of y/n

It’s late and you know you have work in the morning, but the heat is too much and you can’t seem to drop off, especially with Joel next to you. You love him, truly you do, but the man is like a furnace so you can’t bear to be anywhere near him when the temperatures rise.

You’ve pushed yourself up against the headboard, kindle glowing on your lap so you didn’t need to put the lamp on and disturb him. It’s not even a particularly good book, but the enemies to lovers have just been ambushed, and the leading man has shown his hand. As your eyes continue to read, thumb pressing for the next page, you bite your bottom lip as he pushes her against the brick wall of the alleyway and kisses her like his life depends on it.

You subtly squeeze your thighs together when he kisses her neck, and then when his hand squeezes her breast in the book, you bring your own hand up and mimic what’s happening on the page.

Trailing your hand down and underneath the thin sheets, dipping them under your sleep shorts when he does the same to her. You didn’t realise the sexual tension in the book had affected you all that much, until your fingers dip between your folds and into the pool of slick gathering there.

You let your eyes close, a soft sigh leaving your lips, and then Joel stirs next to you, enough to make you still your movements until you realise he’s just rolled onto his back and is continuing to snore softly.

You go back to your ministrations, dragging your slick up to circle your clit as the handsome man in your book shifts the heroine’s panties to the side and slides into her for the first time. You gasp as you dip your fingers into your own fluttering cunt, careless with your sounds now as your work yourself towards your high.

“What’s all this then?”

His gruff, sleepy voice sends a jolt down your spine and makes your hand stop, two fingers buried in your cunt still.

“Nothing.”

You can feel Joel scoot closer to you, his hand under the sheets until he finds your arm, his fingers trailing down your skin until his hand circles your wrist, pulling your arm away, your finger slipping out of you. He drags your hand all the way to his mouth, letting them rest on his tongue before he clasps his lips around them and sucks them clean.

“Liar,” He says, “You been touchin’ yourself, baby?”

“Maybe I have.”

He’s awake enough now to make out the glow of your kindle amongst the sheets, which he picks up, his eyes flashing across the filth in front of him. He presses the button to switch it off, discarding it somewhere, before his sweltering body is moving on top of yours, just briefly, until his broad shoulders are settled between your thighs and he’s holding you open.

“She’s drippin’ baby,” He coos, leaning forward to let the flat of his tongue lick a sweltering hot stripe up your cunt, “Need me t’make you come before you can sleep, huh?”

Your head drops back as he uses his thumbs to spread the lips of your pussy apart, tip of his tongue seeking out your swollen clit with ease as he teases you.

You let your fingers tangle in his curls, hips bucking up into his mouth as he works you effortlessly to the edge. You whine and beg him to keep going, but he stops just short of giving you what you want.

“Joel-“ You groan, head thrown back into the pillow, “No, please, I’m right there.”

“You were naughty,” He says, so matter of fact, “Told ya, you need this, you wake me, not get yourself off to your smutty books.”

“I’m sorry,” You whine, “You were out like a light, just-“ You buck your hips up into his face, “Please make me come Joel, please.”

He leans forward, plants a single kiss to your clit which makes you sigh, then he’s using the backs of his fingers to stroke your pussy, “Next time, you wake me, understood?”

“I promise,” You reply almost instantly, “Now please, please make me come.”

He must be satisfied because he dives forward, sucking your clit into his mouth, hot lips fused over it as he sucks and flicks with the tip of his tongue.

You’re close enough as it is, but then he slips two of those deliciously thick fingers into your fluttering cunt, angles them upwards just perfectly and you’re gone. Pulling at his hair and thrashing as he pumps his fingers just right. You tighten around his fingers and let out a shrill scream into the night as you come, gushing for him in a way you’ve become so accustomed to now you’ve both worked out how to do it.

Joel works you through it until you’re overstimulated and moving away from him. His mouth, wet with your slick, is pressed to the skin of your thighs until your breathing evens out, and then he’s rising, the soft light of the moon through the open curtains illuminating him between your thighs as he fists his hard cock.

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He groans, falling forward so the tip of his cock is nudged at your cunt.

“Always, baby,” You smile, shifting your hips up so he’s sliding into you, “Show me what you’re made of.”

[thegnomelord]

Bro I have been a solid lurker for a HOT moment. Let me just say stupendous writing literally devouring this surplus like a fine dinning for 3. Daily check your page because the writing is so immaculate!

I have come to share a particular idea. Soap has a Mohawk but what about male reader having a cool hairstyle to. (Totally not because I also have a Mohawk there cool asf) but soap who is used to having his hair pulled, then comes along reader and he's practically begging to have his hair pulled with the silly style and soaps obsessed. BONUS points if reader and soap or monsters like bloodborne lichen dude 🙏🙏🙏 peek monster design I need to see that in action you know. (I'm so full of cool old school horror movies with monsters and insane cool practical effects) all I'm thinking about it Soap who's being an arse pushing reader to his limits, grabbing his hair and pulling only to get a near guttural growl from reader and getting demolish by reader

Sorry if that made no sense im rambling and the bus is a pain in my side.

Could I be 🛠 anon!

NGL I always wanted a mohawk and TRIED to do a mohawk but my head is shaped like a very inbred egg and it just does not look good on me.

CW:MDNI, sorry it's short I don't have much time cause I'm swamped with other projects and my studies :Dd

But I also love the idea of conventional werewolf Soap with Bloodborn werewolf reader. Like you're beastly even in human form, a wild mohawk on your head stretching down all the way down your spine, wild coarse hair giving you a savage appearance. And Johnny is painfully hard for it. Just something wild in bones absolutely salivates for the blatant ferocity you show.

So, as you do, he makes himself a menace every chance he gets. Something in him, something beyond his inner wolf, earns for the ferocious bloody fight and brawl. So any chance he gets, he's by your side, growling, baring his teeth, always trying to push the boundaries of your space.

He finally fucks up when, his need getting too strong, he reaches out and curls his fingers in your mohawk near the nape of your neck. The growl he receives shakes the ground and has his heart dropping to his stomach. Your teeth are on him in a second, big clawed paws pinning him to the ground no matter how much he shifts and tries to fight back. You're bigger than him in wolf form, wild hair and semi-flayed flesh falling around his head like a shroud so all he can see is are the jagged jaws snarling near his face.

And it only takes a second before you feel his ass bump against your groin, a second later to smell the strong musk of arousal clinging to him like the last dregs of humanity cling to your bones. Soap whines like a kicked pup when he smells your acrid arousal in return, licking into your open jaws and struggling on purpose to grind his ass against your quickly hardening cock.

[phoneuserhana333]

what about neighbor!ellie? — headcanons

miscellaneous neighbor!ellie thoughts while i brainstorm. enjoy <3

• i imagine ellie and you are neighbors in a huge apartment complex, you live below her and she has a balcony where she smokes weed like every day

• ellie is the type of neighbor to romanticize interactions she has with you; unlike abby, who has a clear dislike towards her neighbor, ellie will put up with anything you do. you could blow up the apartment complex and she’d call dina and be like “lol guess what my cute neighbor just did? :’D”

• orders sooooo much fast food. she can’t help it! she gets munchies whenever she smokes. if you bring her a warm, homemade meal she will MELT !!! it feeds into her wifing you up fantasy where you cook and she goes to her 9-5 to provide for u. horribly cheesy. someone help her

• her apartment is full of posters. bands, animals she thinks are cool, her favorite dinosaurs. her sheets are a plain forest green, she leaves dirty plates everywhere.

• she enjoys a good weighted blanket, funny mugs, those ugly grandpa slippers (iykyk), dino nuggets. always stocked up on sweets. never stocked up on period products (she just forgets, would cry if you brought her a lil basket of period products and sweets)

• lurks. a serial lurker. wants to know if your house appliances need fixing (if they do, she’s swooping in with a toolbox she ‘borrowed’ from joel to save the day), wants to see what you like, basically she’s looking for an excuse to start a conversation with you

• fails to start a conversation every single time. she ends up leaving her phone number under your doormat, praying you’d find it. surprisingly, it took you a few days to find it and you texted her.

• neighbor!ellie is defo the type to be all bark and no bite, she’ll send you flirty messages HOURLY, and then when she hears your flustered squeal through the thin walls she’ll tease you even more.

• but when she sees you in the hallways, or god forbid, the elevator? she’s a stuttering, blushing mess of dodgy eyes and awkward laughs. the close proximity makes her nervous, the smell of your perfume and how warm you are might be too much for her. can’t stay sane when she sees you.

• hasn’t brought any girls over since you moved in. what can i say? she’s stupidly loyal.

• ellie wishes she could just move in with you already! whines to dina on the phone about how she’s in love and how you’re her soulmate. she’s done everything in her power to make you fall in love with her (she was just saying ‘hi’ in the lobby), so why wasn’t it working?!

• little does ellie know, you’re eavesdropping on her very loud nightly phone calls, smiling to yourself as you plan your first date and how you’re going to ask the useless lesbian out.

[or0ch1maru]

oo hello i'm a lurker first time caller lol, i love what i've seen of your writing, esp for orochimaru! i'm not sure if it's too late/ not really what you asked for, but would u be interested in writing menstruation smut (or fluff!) for orochimaru and also any akatsuki members? i'd die over oral w this too 😭

Heyyy bby🫶🏻I got you🤭

18+, menstruation, fem receiving oral, smut

I can just IMAGINE how messy they can get while eating you while. Like omg

Sorry this Is so short, I’m exhausted after this past week at work but I hope you love it nonetheless

-they always knew when you were ovulating, let alone being on your period. They could smell you from a mile away.

-speaking of smell, orochimaru loves your scent. Face buried in your cunt as their tongue fucks in and out of you. Blood and your arousal mixing together in an intoxicating way, causing them to grind into the mattress as they eat you out

-their nose bumping into your clit as orochimaru pushes their tongue deeper. Your hands intertwining in their hair, holding them steady as you buck your hips against their face. Your needy little cunt not getting of enough of your partners tongue

-“nmph, ‘m gonna cum” you whine out through pants, your legs tightening around your partners heads as your orgasm washes over you. Your hips twitching as you ride out your climax grinding against Orochimaru’s mouth

-they don’t let up on their pace, their tongue hitting all your sensitive spots, orochimaru pressing his nose harder against your puffy nub, helping you ride out your orgasm

-once you’ve settled down, despite your brain being all fuzzy from the intense release, you look down at your partner who’s looking up at you. Your blood and arousal smeared all over their lips and cheeks. That smug smile that you love so much plastered against their features

-“look at you, falling apart just because of my tongue. Can’t wait to see you come undone on my cock”

-just like Orochimaru, he knows when you’re on your cycle. Keeping track of it himself. Pounces on you the second he picks up on the difference in smell

-Adores the way your cute cunt looks when your blood is smeared all over your folds and inner thighs

-your silver haired lover has you held down against his mouth. Looking up at you through low eyelids as he flicks his tongue through your folds. His large calloused hands gripping your thighs firmly, holding you in place as you sit on his face

-hidan watches as you throw your head back, your small hands groping and massaging at your tits, pinching your sensitive and perky buds as his name falls from your lips in breathy moans

-his erection aches in his pants as he witnesses drool pooling from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down your chin as you’re being fucked silly, Hidan pushing his tongue into you

-“h-hidan baby, ‘m close” you whine out, your thighs burning where he has a hold on you. Hidan continues with his relentless pace, feeling your legs tense around him. Your partner pleasuring you through your high. Helping you onto your back on your shared bed

-“gonna need you to make a bigger mess f’ me doll, needa be painted in your blood”

•

[olderthannetfic]

I know the response to this will be "WRITE FOR YOURSELF!!!1!" but when I look at things I worked really hard to write that have zero comments and the things I threw out there on a whim that actually appear to have made people happy, I feel so much less motivated to write the former. I know I'm supposed to be "doing it for myself" but I don't know what that means. It feels like those 90's movies saying "be yourself" or my therapist saying "be authentic". It's a nice enough sounding thing, but what does it mean? Does it mean writing in obscurity is more pure or more artsy? Is it supposed to be more moral and demonstrate integrity?

There's an agreement in fandom that writing for others is bad. It's impure. It's selfish. But no one has really ever explained why. Nor am I getting much out of writing a story that means a lot to me and getting dead silence in response. I like entertaining others and making them smile.

I can practically feel the, "uh, back in my day fic was hosted on a server and we didn't see hit counts let alone get comments and we were happy with it because we weren't whiny and in need of validation like Gen Z!!!1!" people gearing up to yell in the replies that they're good writers who don't care about comments. That's great for them, and I mean that sincerely. But equally sincerely, how are you supposed to maintain passion for something no one else is interested in? I've been told it's better to get validation via hit counts or bookmarks but numbers don't really do anything for me. Someone saying, "I loved this! Can't wait to see what happens next." can make not just my day but my week.

I know what people say. Fandom isn't a popularity context. It's not social media. You're not supposed to like talking to people about fandom things. But... I do. And the utter silence that is modern fandom - of the 100 last published fics in my fandom, only 10 have comments, and only 4 have regular commenters - is just really not fun to me.

--

Yes, lots of people do think it ~demonstrates integrity~. People who never finish anything.

People who actually succeed at making art will say superficially similar things, but what they mean is "If you write things you aren't actually interested in, you will either burn out or the art won't actually be satisfying to the audience or both".

--

The thing about back in the day is that we only got comments. You're dead wrong about that part. Yes, people whined that there wasn't enough feedback, and they will continue to whine about this until the end of time, but your description misses the most important part about the rose-colored glasses and what people are trying to explain about the past in most of those posts:

We couldn't see the lurkers (hit counts) but we did see some actual interactions. This allowed us to imagine that the comment rate was way higher than it actually was and to see fandom as a close-knit community (which was maybe somewhat more accurate than now but never as true as people believed).

--

You have fundamentally misunderstood what the (saner) posts about this are saying.

You shouldn't care about overall numbers. You should care about meaningful social interactions. Obviously, people like connecting with others via art.

Fandom is not a popularity contest. That's why you should enjoy talking to actual peers about things. Genuine connection is not about being a celebrity with fans: it's about making friends.

--

Some fandoms do have interactions. Maybe if you start interacting with others' works, that will help. Maybe you need a different fandom. "Modern fandom" isn't this total wasteland with no interaction, nor do most people find a total lack of it fun.

[gabbyhell]

Oh no. Autism, please no. Not a new hyperfixation on a video game. At least it won’t be extremely Problematique this time?

The Autism: “Oh no, actually it’s not too bad. Not bad at all. Actually has a really good message, better than most media that you like.”

Oh thank god.

“You will, unfortunately, be a stereotypical tumblrite and ship two middle-aged men. Also have fun with the fan discourse.”

fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou

[hurlingdown]

I’m usually a lurker, but the other anons talking about their fav side charas have inspired me. i also dont know how to do transitions so i'm just gonna jump into it.

I want to ruin Izou. I want to fuck him in his pretty clothes and make up, and reduce him to a crying, cockdrunk mess.

It probably starts off slow, you havent let him take his clothes off, only pushing them to the side to gain access and start eating him out. He'll complain that he doesnt want to get his clothes dirty but his hands are in your hair, holding you there as he grinds his clit against your tongue. His moans are quiet, and that just wont do, you want to hear his pretty voice get wrecked as he cries out your name. He’s still keeping up his usual demeanor, acting composed like he isn't dripping around your tongue like a leaky faucet. Of course, you know how to fix that. And right before he can cum, your hands are on his hips, stopping him from moving.

Before he can start being a brat, you tell him to get on his hands and knees - Still not letting him take off his clothes. You get undressed just enough to free your cock and push the fabric of his clothes up. You push your dick against his slick folds, covering it with his juices. You probably don't even need any lube, you can just slide in from just how wet he is. You slowly work him up again, pulling pretty moans out of him with each thrust. When you think he's being too quiet you give his hair a nice tug, drawing a loud moan out of him. The absolutely desperate whine he lets out when you bring jim to the edge again only to stop,, god it almost makes you take pity on him. But no, you want him to be truely wrecked when he finally cums. So you flip him onto his back and start again. This time you undo his yukata and push it open to fondle his tits- of course you dont let him take it off completely.

Maybe at some point you just focuse on his chest, fondling, marking, sucking; neglecting his needy pussy. Hes humping the air, trying to press your cock back into his empty hole; whining and being a bit of a brat. You hold his hips down and tell him to stop being a brat. When youre done abusing his tits, you kiss your way down to his leaking cunt; telling him if he can be a good boy and keep his hands to himself while you eat him out, you'll let him cum.

Of course, he fails. Right when hes on the cusp of orgasm, his hands fly down to your hair, gripping it tightly and desperately trying to hump your face as he begs for you to keep going. Tears falling when you pull away and leave him on the edge again. And so it starts again. You tell him he can cum if he can be a good boy, only to stop when he fails and start all over.

By the end, his clothes are a mess, covered in all the slick thats been leaking all night from his pretty pussy; make up smeared from his tears after you've edged him for the umpteenth time. He's long since given up his usual composure, having become a loud whiney mess begging for you to let him cum.

Satisfied, you start moving again. Pretty thighs twitch around your hips as you begin to move faster, working him up and drawing the most beautiful whimpers and moans from him- those noises only barely louder than the slick wet sounds coming from his pussy.

When he finally comes, he squirts- hard- adding the wet mess on his clothes. His walls are clenching around you as you fuck him through his high, finally coming deep inside him with his thighs locked around your hips.

Anyways…. umm didnt expect to write that much. Srry if it aint that good, im a little rusty when it comes to writing. Ah well.

Love your blog! Thanks for listeing to my ramble

ohhhhhh fuck yes. holy fucking shit. forgive me i've kept this in my inbox for days because i wanted to make sure i digested everything before answering the ask, and damnnnn.

this was so hot. i've always thought that kiku and izou should be more popular characters to send in thirsts on, so i've been waiting for this one. the way you write is obscenely good, you could start your own writing blog (if you haven't yet) and i'd read all your works. <3

[moodymisty]

Hardcore lurker and long time purveyor just dropping by to extend my well wishes! I just got home yesterday from having my gallbladder removed so I truly, deeply sympathize. Just wanted to thank you for what you do and hope that you can recover quickly!

Funny coincidence! Honestly the worst part of it all was my insurance xD on Thursday I was only able to drive myself to the closest hospital (I could barely see straight from the pain and my father sent me the address there) which turned out to be out of network xD they ended up fasting me for 4 days trying to just discharge me so I could outpatient my surgery which, given my pancreas was VERY ANGRY and kept giving me a 100 fever, wasn't happening. I got transfered eventually when insurance blocked the surgery, spent another day waiting, and finally got it. Left next day.

Worst pain was just the one spot right where the gallbladder was after, it ached but I just whined and they gave me pain meds and it was gone in a few minutes xD the gallbladder attacks were FAR worse than having it removed.

Thank you so much for the well wishes! I've been dealing with my gallbladder for over a year now, so I'm excited to feel better and get back to work in a few weeks.

[gaykarstaagforever]

Heathers (1989)

"If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?"

"...Probably."

[TRIGGER WARNING: The movie is about murder, suicide, depression, anxiety and bullying, and it's a Rated-R movie from 1989, so SA is going to keep coming up. I'm going to be referencing all of that in this review. Also I'm a gay man and will be teasing people who have made this movie their personality, so tap out now if you and your cool vinyl collection can't deal with that.]

The movie starts as a fun black comedic take-down of saccharine 80s John Hughes teen romance movies. New-kid-in-school badboy edgelord JD, and repentant former wannabe cool girl Veronica, hook up and decide to live out the ultimate bullied nerd fantasy by getting revenge on Heather, Veronica's frenemy and leader of the Heathers, the most popular clique in school.

But when things go darker than Veronica planned, the comedic satire becomes a Shakespearean melodrama, as Veronica is suddenly confronted by the surreal consequences of what she's done, including realizing that the simplest solution to a problem may in fact make everything a hell of a lot worse.

I'm not going to spoil it for the 5 of you who haven't seen this yet. Everyone else (including me now) has seen it, as it is probably one of the most universally-popular Internet-culture movies there is. You've seen at least one meme from it.

Probably this one.

While a flop in 1989, it quickly became a cult movie on home media, even by the late 90s being one of those movies your older brother and his friends introduced you to to let you know they didn't think you were a lame stupid baby anymore. And it seems now with streaming it is still kind of in that spot, the older brothers with tapes being replaced by Gen X / Millennials posting about how cool it is in front of teenaged lurkers.

So how did I miss it? I WAS the older brother growing up, and I was 7 when it came out. And when I did go back and get into all the 80s movies I missed out on by being a toddler when they were new, I stumbled into the Hughes stuff, notably Pretty in Pink, which is fundamentally the movie Heathers is mocking. As cynical and jaded as I am, I'm also a fruitcake, so I love me some sappy sunny crap (if it's to a greater artistic point, which the Hughes movies are). What I knew of Heathers had me thinking it was merely a demonstration of pretentious anti "popular media" whining from the sort of people who wear outdated hats and are insufferable about punk music.

...And it totally is. But also, it's more than that. It's actually really good and smart and occasionally insightful, when it restrains itself from all the emo "I can be your devil or your angle" posturing. Which, to be fair, it also makes fun of. Before that was even a thing.

Christian Slater and Wynonna Rider have fantastic chemistry, and there's never enough of the two of them just enjoying each other's company. Even when they're arguing, it feels like a real couple going through something they'll almost certainly get over in a few hours (until they very much can't, and then they'll literally try to kill each other). Passion, is the word for it. Sardonic and low-key most of the time, but still passion. And that's always delightful.

It's well-shot and well-directed, with good uses of lighting and dynamic camera angles. There is a lot of scenes that are just two people talking, and it's never boring. Impressive for filmmakers who were, at the time, fresh-faced and working with a small budget. The style ends up being like if John Waters (no relation to Dan Waters, who wrote it) had directed Corman's Rock and Roll High School: goofy and surreal and sarcastic, but also willing to get dark and push boundaries to make a point.

All the characters - even joke side ones - are thoughtfully drawn, given emotional depth and realistic motivations, even when they're doing something stagey and broad in this highly stylized, Tim Burton-esque dark fairytale world. Wynonna Rider fought for the role against all advice, and it is perfectly in-line with the characters she played and the movies she played them in of this era, Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands. Maybe even Bram Stoker's Dracula, if we're talking surreal melodramatic action-horror with disco lighting.

It is a movie with lots of big ideas (probably too many), but it manages to get those across effectively. What starts as a simple teenager revenge fantasy morphs into an armchair analysis of what America does to its children - instead of nurturing them and preparing them for the adult world, it points at them and gawks, and cashes in on their fear and self-loathing and predictable self-destruction. Everyone in the cruel high school world of Heathers is both a perpetrator and a victim, desperately fighting for survival by both submitting to abuse, and then immediately turning around and heaping it on someone "beneath" them. Death here isn't genuinely mourned or reflected upon; everyone simply starts plotting how they're going to exploit this new gap in the line. And whether the victims kill themselves or are murdered only matters as far as someone can spin that into self-promotion. Even the priest at the funeral (the late great Glenn Shadix, Beetlejuice again!) uses the supposed suicide of a child as an opportunity to make a ham-fisted youth-oriented alter call.

By the end of the movie, Veronica has triumphantly decided to rise up - not merely against the popular kids and exploitative / apathetic adults - but against the entire system of unending cruelty she didn't even know she was still playing a part in when she was actively attacking it. This finally sets her at odds with JD, who is too consumed by hatred to realize that the violence he thinks is a solution is fundamentally part of the problem.

And yet, as they come to blows, Veronica is also replaying the very same game that led her to become one of the Heathers in the first place, and then turn on them: use people to secure power, they use and hurt you, so you attack them. She knows the whole system is bad and broken and wants out, and seems to acknowledge the only way out is through earnest friendships and "growing out" of being shallow and petty. But by the end of the movie, despite her rebuke of JD...has she managed it? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe the system is inescapable, and all you can hope to do is find a way to force it to work for you. And choose then to make it less cruel. Maybe.

It's not a good or happy ending, it's just an ending. But a thought-provoking one, and the movie does it well.

...Mostly. The dialogue is trying very hard to be distinctively witty, but mostly comes across like a worse version of Clueless-ese, with more gratuitous vulgarities and no kitschy charm. A writer being very proud of how smart they are, without noticing that real people don't talk like this because it's awkward and obnoxious. Everyone's dialogue is basically interchangeable, including between the kids and adults (JD and his lunatic father have a fun distinctive thing they do, but that's about it). Now, lines being awkward and obnoxious doesn't mean they aren't eminently meme-able. In fact, that usually means they are. And they certainly are here. Nearly every scene has a memorable bon mot that can be endlessly parroted by people doing that so you won't notice their off-putting personality. ...I wouldn't call that a win for anyone, but it is certainly a thing.

Remember: just because someone said it in a movie, doesn't mean it's inherently funny or profound or relevant to the conversation you've currently having. And you're not suddenly smart because you found a movie quote that you think expresses your exceptional hot take. In fact, that might be a sign that your are NOT in fact smart or insightful. Just putting that out there.

Also the "mineral water is for fags" thing is only funny because it's stupid. It was stupid then. That's the point of that being in the movie, to show how stupid these podunk morons in Ohio are. Stop repeating that 'joke.' It isn't funny out of context.

Gen X. Looking at you on this one. It's just you trying to give yourselves permission to still call people "fags." Doesn't work that way.

Christian Slater claims he was "channeling Jack Nicholson for this film." Yeah, okay, dude. And for the rest of your life, all the time. He's still a good actor and very charming here, but if that "Christian Slater" thing he does annoys you, it's at 11 here.

The pacing and tone get pretty muddled after the initial black revenge comedy stuff stops, as the movie uneasily transitions to its second major focus. It stops being funny entirely for awhile, until near the end when it suddenly remembers that was supposed to be a part of this, then sitcomy stuff elbows its way in. And JD's plans post-breakup with Veronica are left vague until they suddenly aren't, and I feel like I missed something. I didn't, and there's a point to them doing it this way, but it is handled kind of confusingly.

The movie is a scaled-down version of whatever epic Greek tragicomedy the writer originally dreamed up, and the studio demanded the pitch-black orginal ending be changed. And you can kind of feel that throughout. As an R-rated movie it is a lot tamer than it feels like it should be, and I for one wish the kills were gorier and more over-the-top. That more fits the tone. Maybe that was never the original intention, but you don't do Titus Andronicus without getting gross with it, you know?

Any SA stuff is handled tactfully, and there isn't much of it, and it serves a narrative purpose. But that still feels like something that is only in here because it's 1989 and R-rated movies have to go there. And I don't feel like they really give those incidents the kind of emotional impact they should have on the victims. But again, this is a surreal world of unending cruelty, so maybe people shrug that off here. It's more my personal preference, if you're going to be gross to women in a movie (probably stop that, unless that's what the movie is about. Rape and molestation are not screenplay spices.)

The good far outweighs the bad, though. And Heathers is good, and is deservedly a timeless cult-classic for growing boys and girls, given what it deals with and how well it deals with it. It's entertaining and it makes you think, which is what good movies do. And it's endlessly meme-able, and that's okay, even if the people who meme it the most are silently warning you that they're pretentious and annoying about music. And that's only sort-of the movie's fault.

Also all the women in this movie have 9 lbs of dry fly-away hair that is just...painful. I realize this "unkempt Barbie hair" style was the best we could do at the time, but... I feel like I can hear it crunching every time they move.

Oh, and shoulder pads for days, shoulder pads FOREVER. I will never understand why the hell the 80s thought women weren't boxy enough. It was a thing.

[greensaplinggrace]

people on this site will see content creators begging, pleading, screaming for interaction speaking about how disheartened they feel and asking for even a lick of attention and be like "wow it's so presumptuous and cruel to act that way about your loyal customers - the lurkers and viewers on this site!" while not reblogging or interacting with anything and then not two days later they'll have the gall to come online whining about how all of their fandoms are fucking dead. like two guesses as to why that is.

[fablesrose]

Ch 20 - The Reunion Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: The team goes back in time, to high school with all the insecurities of a nerd turned overly rich and successful bully.

Words: 5.7k

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It was only a couple of days later when after Hardison met the client with Nate, he burst through my door complaining about Eliot being a lurker and Nate playing mind games with him which he very much did not appreciate. At least that’s what I could decipher from his frustrated ramblings. I’ll admit, I was only half listening to him as I was just reaching the most exciting part of the book I was reading.

“How do you deal with him?” Hardison finally asked. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, I mean, he’s your uncle, he raised you. You’ve gotta have dealt with his mind games and little psychological tricks all the time, so…” 

I sighed, realizing that he actually wanted an answer and not just a rant session. Meaning, I wasn’t going to be able to finish the chapter. I closed the book and turned to stare at Hardison. I contemplated whether I wanted to actually answer his question in a fulfilling and helpful way for my friend or find out what happened in the current story arc. 

I think the answer is obvious. Now how to go about completing the goal. 

“Well, Hardison, you are a very smart young man,” I began. 

It was obvious that he was not expecting the compliment and blinked, “Well, I– I’m not sure how that–”

“It is very relevant,” I cut him off, bringing the attention to me again. “The thing with dealing with manipulation tactics is that you first have to understand them.” I stood up from my couch, making a better connection with him by having more direct eye contact. “You see, Nate does use mind games, but it isn’t an always, every time thing so in order to identify when he is trying to manipulate you, well, let's say there is a learning curve.”

“And I am at the very bottom of the curve,” Hardison whined a bit. “I have never been at the bottom of a curve!”

I thought I had him hooked, so said a quick, ‘follow me’ and tried to walk towards my door, and to my satisfaction, he started to follow without a second thought. “That’s okay, I’m sure you will catch on. The thing about manipulation is that it is most often about subverting attention, whether that be to the manipulator, yourself, or somewhere else with a hyper focus that it is hard to redirect back to where you want if you aren’t looking out for it.”

He followed and listened intently, making a few interested comments. 

I walked him across the hall and entered Nate’s apartment, “It takes practice and a lot of self awareness both to spot it and to try to do it to someone. There’s also tricks that can help, in a way it is similar to grifting and hacking, just combining the two.”  I finally led him to where his computer was, “But, I won’t keep you any longer. I think it is better if you did some research on some psychology and the job for the client, right?” I nodded as I asked him that and he instinctively nodded back at me, agreeing as he sat down and placed his hands on his computer. 

“Okay, thanks y/n.”

I hummed in agreement and casually, but quickly, walked back across the hall to get back to my book. Hopefully Hardison didn’t think too much about what just happened when he was doing his research. 

Not too much later Nate came in to bring me along for the recon of an Iranian intelligence secret police hideout. 

“You’re lucky I just finished a really good part of this book and need to decompress a bit,” I said as I slipped a bookmark in and stood from my couch for the second time. 

“Mmm hmm, I think you’re the lucky one because you wouldn’t be able to pull the same thing on me that you did on Hardison,” he said, very self satisfied. 

I stopped in my tracks, “how do you know about that?”

“I was upstairs and heard you.”

“You’re not gonna tell him, are you?”

“Only if you hurry up, we’ve gotta go. Come on, birdy,” he insisted, ushering me along and out the door. 

“Okay! Okay, I’m going!”

Eliot and Hardison went into the restaurant as health inspectors. Sophie was already there as a customer with a bug in her food to give the boys an in to do an inspection. When Eliot wouldn’t help her get the roach away from her after her outburst, she told him that he would pay for it. I’m sure that will be interesting. 

Parker was breaking in one of the back rooms where we were sure all of their sensitive information was. Nate and I stayed in the truck monitoring. Once Parker plugged into their computer, Hardison cloned it so we could all see the screen and Hardison could search the files. Meanwhile, Eliot was doing the food inspection as a bit of a distraction, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he was enjoying himself, just a little bit. 

“There’s nothing on Manticore, starting a syntax search” Hardison said as he remotely connected to the computer. 

“What about the Manticore?” I asked, vaguely gesturing to the graphic on the bottom corner of the screen depicting the creature. 

“The image on the bottom left there,” Nate said, since Hardison couldn’t see where I was gesturing. “Manticore is a mythological creature, Persian for ‘man-eater.’”

“Yeah, I was just about to click on that,” Hardison said unconfidently. 

“Oh yeah, right, sure,” I replied, making sure he knew of my skepticism. 

Hardison clicked on the graphic and a bunch of files opened on the screen. 

“Okay, let’s uh, copy Cyrus’s program,” Nate said. 

“I’d love to, but it’s not here,” Hardison said. “Doesn’t even look like they’ve heard of Cyrus.”

I looked at Nate, “That’s odd. Then who stole the program?”

“I’ve got payment records here,” Parker said. “The last one dated three weeks ago.”

After some searching, Hardison said, “The last Manticore update was also three weeks ago.”

“And who was that payment to?” Nate asked. 

Hardison answered with a low whistle. 

“Larry Duberman,” Hardison began once we got back for the brief on our new mark. “Founder and Ceo of Dubertech. Back in the 90s he wrote the book on digital database security. Literally wrote the book.”

Eliot stepped between Sophie and I with an intricate looking tea set and started pouring the both of us tea as Hardison explained how much revenue Duberman pulled in. I tried to make eye contact with either Eliot or Sophie to question what was going on, but Eliot was focused on pouring the tea, and Sophie wasn’t paying any attention to him at all.

“Why would Larry Duberman be selling software to Iran? He doesn’t need the money,” Sophie said and quietly thanked Eliot for the tea with a soft touch to his shoulder.

I repeated the sentiment to him, without the touch, and took a sip, noticing it was my favorite tea. I smiled a bit to myself, not quite listening to what Hardison was saying. I did catch that Duberman had a lot of competition in the tech industry which required him to expand his market share to make money. 

“So, he sells the technology to embargoed countries and the income is tax free?” Nate asked. 

“That’s a nice way to keep the bottom line from being squeezed,” Sophie commented. 

“Now Duberman has a long term contract around Manticore for Iran, this man has become the IT department for the axis of evil,” Hardison said definitely. 

“Alright, so Eliot was right,” Nate said. “The Veserate didn’t go after Cyrus, Duberman did.”

“It’s not about politics man,” Eliot said while squeezing a lemon into Sophie’s tea. “It’s bad business for him.”

“Okay, so Duberman’s our target,” Nate said, “what are we up against?”

Hardison explained how if we could shut off a certain one of Duberman’s servers then we could shut off Manticore. 

“So, get to hackin’ man,” Eliot said. 

“Dude, what is it about ‘wrote the book on database security’ that you don’t comprehend?” Hardison mocked. “I can’t just access Manticore remotely, we got to get to that server, in person.”

“Have any of you ever trimmed a Bonsai?” Nate asked. 

I looked at him quizzically before following his eyes to see where he was looking at an article saying that Duberman recently installed a Japanese garden. 

“I mean, I took a class in college,” I said, once I thought I had an idea of where he was going with the question. 

“Really?” Eliot said in an excited and almost conspiratorial whisper, “cuz I actually–”

“Maybe some other time, Eliot,” Nate cut him off, clicking on the screen to enlarge the article he was reading. 

“Okay,” he said, a little dejected, also seeming to realize why Nate asked, more hypothetically. 

I was about to give an encouraging remark to Eliot when my attention got pulled to the other side of the table. 

“Why is Eliot pouring your tea?” Parker asked. “Hmm? You brainwash him again?”

Again? When was the first time?

Sophie hummed in a negative tone. “Neuro-linguistic programming,” she corrected. “It’s amazing what you can do with the power of suggestion. ‘Sugar, squeezed,’” She said, only slightly directed at Eliot and patted his shoulder again. “And a few strategic pats on the arm.”

Eliot seemed to register what Sophie said and paused where he was about to pour her some more tea, “Damn it!”

“You owe me for that roach business!”

“Damn it!” Eliot repeated, “Sophie, not again.” He then took the cup of tea he was pouring for Sophie and marched off. 

Hardison was laughing at the front of the room, and it only took me a moment to give a laugh as well. It seems to be the job for mind games. 

I took a sip of my tea, which Eliot left in front of me, and leaned toward Sophie, “Thanks for including me in the tea, this is my favorite.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell him to do either of those things, but I’m glad you enjoyed it, dear,” she replied casually. 

That made me pause, because it didn’t seem like something Eliot would do on his own, but I took Sophie’s word for it and just assumed that maybe her programming accidentally implied something about me getting tea too. The tea being my favorite must have been a coincidence. 

Regardless, I was going to enjoy the drink in front of me. 

I had volunteered to go into Dubertech as a custodian/gardener to help in the break in, but Eliot ended up doing it. I assume because he also got some nostalgia from the bonsai as well as this part of the mini con involved literally running into Duberman and accidentally roughing him up a little. 

Eliot would shove a bonsai into his hands, spilling it everywhere. Hardison and Parker would immediately come in to clean it up, swiping his keycard and his fingerprint off the bonsai pot. Hardison and Parker then proceeded to break into Duberman’s office to gain access to the Manticore server. 

Sophie, Nate, and I were at his apartment watching through the camera Hardison had with him. When they walked into the supposed server room, they paused. 

“Whoa,” Parker said. 

“It seems like we stepped out of Japan and straight into high school,” Hardison said.

“In 1985,” Parker clarified. 

As Hardison panned the camera around the room, we could see that they were right. There was so much high school memorabilia and 80s tech on the shelves and in trophy cases. The lighting even seemed to be retro. 

“Did you find the server running Manticore?” Nate asked, trying to get them back on track. 

“Oh, I found it,” Hardison said. “Small problem: Nate, he’s running Manticore from his high school computer.”

The computer in question came into view and I was amazed that a program as advanced and complicated to spy on Iranians could even be run on the machine.  Parker picked up and waved a floppy disk with a Manticore sticker on it. 

“Question: can we just smash the computer? Would that work?” I asked. 

“No,” Hardison replied, but didn’t explain as he plugged in to the computer and began to try and hack it. 

“Fair enough, just thought I’d double check.”

“Vintage 1980s technology, man,” Hardison said, mostly to himself, “no wonder I couldn’t hack it from the outside. It’s speaking a dead language.”

“This is bringing a whole new meaning to ‘tech people don’t trust modern tech,’” I commented. 

We watched as Hardison ran passwords through the computer, trying to gain access. After a few moments, an announcement came through talking about a possible breach. 

“Hey, they’re onto us!” Parker said. “What’s the deal?”

“He’s got a multi-tiered password system,” Hardison explained. “Now, I’ve already broken into the first few: uh, Zavransky, MandyDD, a bunch of other random ones.” Hardison’s computer then made an unusual sound. 

“Is that a good beep or a bad beep?” Parker asked. 

“Ohh, that’s a bad beep. We just hit a wall.”

“You didn’t get the password?” Nate asked. 

“Not the master one,” Hardison said, “the last one I got is: L33R15L06.”

Sophie and Nate looked at each other and said ‘high school’ at the same time in a dejected voice. 

“That password is what tipped you off?” I asked sarcastically, mostly to cover up how I wasn’t sure how that password connected to the theme, but with all of the high school themed stuff in the room, it made sense. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Parker said anxiously. 

“Hold on, let me just copy this disk,” Hardison replied. “How did anyone get anything done in the 80s?”

They were able to make their escape once the download finished and made their way back to the pub. We all met down there to discuss what to do from there. 

“Nobody else thinks it’s weird that you can just buy anybody’s yearbook online?” Eliot said when Hardison pulled out Duberman’s yearbook to consult.

“You know, it’s real cute man how you still believe in privacy,” Hardison replied.  

“I’m just amazed he could get his hands on it so quickly,” I commented.

“Here we go,” Nate said as he flipped through it. “Zavransy: math teacher. Now I bet if we turn to the cheerleaders… Yes. Oh, Mandy.”

Eliot gave a low whistle. I glanced at the picture and, well, the double Ds in the password did make some sense. 

“What does the ‘DD’ mean?” Parker asked.

The boys gave some innuendoes towards Mandy’s chest which I rolled my eyes at. I just told Parker that she didn’t need to worry about it. 

“It was the last password that tipped us off,” Nate continued, “L33R15L06, now that has to be a locker combination, right?”

I nodded my head, agreeing, trying to disguise that I was just coming to the realization of what that was now. I guess I never remembered any of my locker combinations that way. Or remembered any at all.  

“So clearly, he’s obsessed with high school,” Nate concluded. “Memorabilia, his high school computer.”

“Yeah, he’s a classic computer nerd,” Sophie said. She glanced at Hardison and apologized. “The girls totally ignored him, the guys picked on him, now that he’s a success, he can’t leave the past behind him.”

“Yeah, he has to remember who he was because it made him who he is,” Nate said.

“I feel bad for the nerd,” Parker said with an almost sympathetic deadpan.

“Don’t feel bad for this guy,” Eliot replied. “Getting bullied in high school is no excuse for propping up dictators. Take Hardison, he got bullied his whole high school career, he’s not a criminal.”

We all looked at him incredulously. Sophie and Parker verbally disagreed.

“Not a bad criminal,” Eliot amended. 

“What makes you think I got bullied in high school?” Hardison asked. 

“A: you’ve got a green hornet doll.”

“First: it’s a limited edition action figure. Second: it is Green Lantern. Educate yourself.”

“Guys, listen, listen,” Nate interrupted, “we’ve got a locker combination, we have a teacher’s name, and we have a crush. So Duberman has made his old high school, his roman room.”

After a moment, Parker confidently said, “Of course.”

“Of course?” Nate asked her, “what’s a roman room?”

She crumbled and admitted she didn’t know. 

“It’s a memory technique,” he explained. “Each of his passwords corresponds with an object in a space he is intimately familiar with. In his case: the hallway of his old high school where he kept his locker. Now if I were to make this bar my roman room, everything I need to remember is in this room. For instance:” Nate stood and clasped me on the shoulder, “my, uh, email password would be Birdy here.” He then approached the bar and picked up a bottle of liquor, “and my bank password would be Balmore,” he said with a shrug. He then poured himself a drink from the very same bottle. 

“Hey,” Parker leaned across the table to Hardison, “Nate just gave us his passwords, huh?”

“No,” Hardison said, “but I already got all his passwords. Want to see his Netflix queue?” He continued with Parker’s nod, “He’s got, like, every season of ‘Rockford Files,’ every season of ‘Sex in the City,’ that show ‘Psych.’”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” I said. 

“Hey,” Nate came back and leaned over Hardison’s shoulder, “Listen, if we can’t get into the main server without Duberman’s master password, you can’t hack into that, right?”

“No, the password's up in the guy’s head. Can’t hack a guy’s head.”

“So the only option is to break inside his roman room.”

“You wanna break into his high school?” Parker asked. “Pft, I could do that blindfolded. Yeah, let’s do it blindfolded.”

“No, no, no, what we’re gonna do, is we’re gonna break into that high school, twenty five years ago.”

“Hmm, what do ya know,” Hardison said, looking at his phone, “Class of ‘85 has a reunion coming up. In eight months.”

We shared a passing look between each other with a smile. I think we could make that work. 

Sophie made some calls as different reunion committee members and was able to get the reunion moved up to this month. She then called Duberman to personally invite him to the party, naming some classmates that should incentivise him to come. And lo and behold, he said he ‘wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ 

Hardison went in and edited a picture of Sophie and put it in the yearbook under the name of Grace Pelts. Nate was going to pose as a student named Drake McIntyre and play the rival, or villain in Duberman’s story. When he came out in his chosen outfit, he for sure looked like the peaked in high school jerk that he was going for. 

Parker posed as one of the caterers and placed cameras around the school so Hardison could keep an eye on everything and help Nate and Sophie out when needed. 

“Oof, so many awkward people in so many ugly outfits,” Parker said as she took a look at the bulletin board with the ‘nostalgic’ photos. 

“You’re lucky you never went to high school,” Hardison said. “Nothin’ but heartbreak and homework.”

I sighed with a nod of my head, though he couldn’t see me, it was true. 

“Didn’t you go to your Prom?” she asked. 

“Uh… I was kinda busy,” he replied in a way that told me he was doing something that he wasn’t supposed to. Probably highly impressive and highly illegal.

“So you guys get to go to the reunion, and I’m stuck on goon patrol?” Eliot griped beside me as he pulled on his gloves.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” I asked, unamused. 

“No, you’re at least a nice Pâté,” he replied with a slight apologetic look. 

I squinted at him, not understanding what he was implying, “I’m gonna try and take that as a compliment, but you’re on thin ice right now.”

“Eliot, listen, once we get the password, you and y/n have to enter it on Duberman’s computer and destroy Manticore,” Nate explained. “Hardison is a little occupied.”

“Besides, I’m sure you already had your high school fun,” Hardison goaded. “Big man on campus. What? Quarterback?”

I watched as a slight smirk of reminiscence appeared on his face and he pulled his hood up, “I had many interests.”

He then waited until a lone employee walked out of the Dubertech building and knocked him out with one punch. I quickly rummaged through his pockets until I found his key card. Eliot then dragged him off to the side in the bushes where we were standing and I tossed his briefcase into the bushes after him. The two of us then entered the building and made our way to the so-called server. 

Meanwhile, Sophie was making first contact with Duberman, stroking his ego a bit to get him loosened up. She also helped make the introduction to Duberman of Nate being Drake McIntire. 

Apparently Drake was pretty popular in high school as it sounded like he was swarmed by people greeting him. Nate made sure to point out Duberman from across the room and address him as “doucherman!”

That seemed to sell it for Duberman.

“How’d you know that was his nickname?” Sophie whispered when she was able to take a step away from Duberman. 

“With a name like Duberman, it’s not exactly rocket science,” Nate replied as he greeted more people, asking Hardison to help him keep his cover. 

“Doucherman’s pretty good,” I commented. “If you wanted to just mispronounce his name you could go with Doberman but that might be too cool for him. I probably would have gone for gooberman or nooberman.” 

There was a moment of silence.

“Say, y/n, who were you in high school?” Hardison asked over comms. 

I scoffed, “Please, I didn’t conform to high school stereotypes.”

“Emo,” a couple voices said, including Eliot who was walking alongside me. 

I looked at him and sputtered a bit, trying to deny it. 

“Don’t even try it, y/n,” Hardison teased, “I can always look up your yearbook pictures.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said in the most threatening voice I could muster. 

“Mmhmm,” Hardison replied in a tone that told me he wasn’t convinced but then continued to help Nate by feeding him facts about his supposed classmates. 

Sophie was able to pull Duberman into the hallway and started reminiscing, trying to get any passwords she could out of him. 

“This hall is burned in my mind,” Doberman said as they walked. 

“Say, wasn’t that Mrs. Zavransy’s room?” Sophie asked. 

“Had her for homeroom. Yeah, Pat Brander once gave me a wedgie in front of the whole class,” He replied. 

“Pat Brander,” Sophie emphasized as if she was remembering too. 

“Check out Brander,” Eliot told me as I sat at the computer. 

I typed in the last name which didn’t work and then first, and then first and last, but none worked, “Name isn’t working.”

“Try Brander303, that was the room number,” Hardison said. 

I typed it in, “Uh, looks like we got payroll.”

“Alright guys, patience,” Nate told us. “If we get him riled up, he’ll lead us to the password we want.”

Nate entered the hallway in a drunken manner and started teasing Duberman in a way that was very reminiscent of teenagers. 

“We’re not eighteen anymore!” Duberman whined, trying to get him to stop. 

“I’m just reliving the good old times, ya know,” Nate replied. 

“Good times? You think they were good times for me? Like when you told Amy Tuttleton, the prettiest girl in school, that I had both male and female genitalia?”

Nate laughed, “I forgot about that! Yeah, that was classic.”

I typed in every variation I could think of for a password with Amy Tuttleton, with no hits. 

“Hermaphrodite?” Eliot asked over my shoulder. 

“I’m not trying that,” I said. 

After a few more passing comments between Nate, Sophie, and Duberman, Duberman finally said, “You just don’t get it, do you? I won.”

“Oh come on now, you’re not still steamed about things that happened twenty-five years ago. Come on! Listen, it wasn’t all bad, does your brain only remember the painful bits?”

“Just the important stuff,” he tried to defend. “Like what happened in the library.”

“Oh yeah, go on,” Sophie encouraged. 

“No, you remember, yeah, I was sitting there–”

He was cut off by a newcomer entering the hallway and their little group. It sounded like a flirty woman, who Nate, trying to stay in character, drew her attention to himself. Nate said her name was Nikki and she implied she was a cheerleader. Hardison got to work trying to give Nate information about her, but there were multiple cheerleaders who could have had the nickname Nikki. She then dragged Nate away from Duberman and Sophie to make out. 

“Nate, I hope you know, this is so gross,” I said, trying to block it out. “Hardison, can you mute him for me for a second so I can listen to Sophie?”

He did as I asked and tuned me to Sophie and Duberman’s conversation.

I kept trying passwords that Sophie was giving me, and while a few of them opened different capabilities, none were the master password we were looking for. Eliot paced around the room looking at memorabilia and giving me updates on the others. 

“Ha, Nikki locked Nate in a closet after he turned her down.”

I laughed as I tried another password, “serves him right, he probably broke that poor girl’s heart. And he broke my eardrums.”

“Yeah, Parker said the same thing along with high school being dramatic. She’s gonna go break him out.”

I scoffed, “she can say that again. High school was so over dramatic.”

“Says the emo.”

I glared at him and he changed the subject, looking back at the glass case in front of him, “They give out trophies for chess?”

“Chess is at least a strategy game. It’s better than a spelling bee trophy,” I countered.

He didn’t have the chance to reply as grinding noises and sparks started to shoot through the door. 

“It’s the Veserate, they’re comin’ in!” Eliot told me and the rest of the crew. 

Hardison unmuted Nate for me as he asked what the Iranians were doing here. 

“How are we supposed to know?” I told him. 

As I typed in another password, Nikki crashed Duberman’s and Sophie’s conversation again. She said she just wanted Drake out of the way so she could have Duberman all to herself, she spilled her drink on Sophie in the process, insisting she clean up. Well, there goes our audience with him and our opportunity to get the password. At least for now. 

“What happened? He get away?” Nate asked Sophie when they met up. 

“She took him!” Sophie lamented, “That, that… That bloody little slut!”

I’ll admit, that was not what I expected to come out of her mouth.

“Calm down,” Nate mediated. 

“Just because I’m not some cheerleader or something!” 

Oh, there was some bad blood here. Some history for Sophie. 

“Alright, let’s forget about it for now. Eliot and y/n have company and we’re no closer to getting the password, so I think we need to escalate.”

“You think he’s ready?” Sophie asked. 

“Uh, guys,” Hardison interjected, “I’ve accounted for all the Nikkis in the class of ‘85, your Nikki’s not even in the yearbook.”

“Wait, so she’s a fraud, like us?” Parker asked. 

“What, is she just some random hussy who’s out for his cash?” Sophie proposed. 

“Not exactly,” Hardison answered. “She’s a hired gun.”

I shifted my focus from the melting door to Eliot, “Well, this just got more complicated.”

“An assassin?” Sophie asked. “Nikki’s an assassin?”

“Yeah, I guess we weren’t the only ones with the bright idea to pose as alumni,” Hardison said. “This chick’s connected to wetwork jobs all up and down the east coast. Russian mob, Italian mob, there’s a New Zealand mob?”

“This is our fault,” Nate said. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Parker denied. 

“We lured him to an unsecured environment,” Sophie said. “We exposed him.”

“Now we have to save him,” Nate said. “We can’t destroy Manticore with him dead. Split up and find him. Eliot what’s happening on your end?”

“T minus five seconds,” he replied. “This reunion sucks!”

“I agree!” I said, surveying the room, trying to find something I could defend myself with. I finally settled on using a chair if I had to. 

We watched as a hole was finally punched through the door and a head appeared to assess the room. When he saw Eliot, he said, puzzled, “The health inspector?”

Eliot shrugged, “I’m gonna have to dock ya again.”

Two of them quickly entered the room, the first raising a gun to Eliot. He knocked it away and was able to knock one down at a time to fight off the other. The first was able to drive Eliot into one of the trophy cases, breaking the glass everywhere. I stepped up and stomped on the back of his knee, making him collapse. I then stepped back out of the way to play support, protect the computer, and input the password if necessary. 

“Duberman must have pissed off the Iranians,” Hardison said, “They hire an assassin to take him out while they raid his office? Eliot, you’ve got to keep them away from that computer.”

“He’s working on it!” I yelled at him at the same time Eliot said, “What do you think I’m doing?”

Eliot grabbed the chess trophy and was able to knock out the second Iranian, and for a moment, they were both down, and it was quiet. 

“Check mate,” Eliot said, but the first Iranian would just not stay down and stood up again, ready for another round. “Or not.”

Over comms, it sounded like Sophie was able to find Duberman and Nikki and fight her off.

“I always hated cheerleaders,” Sophie said. “It was always mean girls like you who ruined high school for the rest of us!” It sounded like they kept fighting for a bit before Sophie was able to get away.

Eliot kept playing whack-a-mole with the Iranians, as soon as one went down, the other popped back up. I tried to help where I could, taking any cheap shots that were available while Eliot kept them occupied. Luckily, anytime they turned to engage me, Eliot was freed up to take them down, or at least divert their attention to himself. 

I heard Duberman’s voice come through the comms again along with Nate, so he must have found him again. I was too preoccupied with the Iranians in front of me to pay attention to what was going on with them, but nothing seemed to be going horribly wrong yet. At least, not more than it already was. 

What I did hear was Nate saying, “And, it’s done.”

That was a signal that Duberman changed the password. Eliot was still engaged with the Iranians, so I took a risk to turn my back on them and type in the new password, testing if Sophie’s neuro-linguistic programming worked to put ‘Badger85’ in his head. 

“I’m in, Hardison,” I said, hearing Eliot finally knock both of them out enough to stay down. 

“Great, now deauthorize and delete all directories, like we talked about,” he replied. 

I typed in the commands and watched as the program fizzled out. “It’s done.”

“Manticore’s dead,” Eliot added with a note of finality.

Hardison was able to send some files to the FBI with an anonymous tip that should land Duberman in detention for a long while. 

“Well, I think it’s time we graduate,” Sophie said once the figurative dust settled for a moment. 

Nate agreed, but they were stopped by a loud announcement that even Eliot and I could hear through the comms. 

“Your votes are in for the king and queen of the reunion, and the lucky winner is: Grace Pelts and Drake McIntyre!”

I laughed. I could just imagine the shock on their faces. 

“Uh, very funny Hardison. Y/n?” Nate said. 

“Oh, you think I did this?” Hardison asked. “Nah, I don’t rig elections. I mean, I could, but…”

“How could I have pulled that off? I’ve been across town this whole time,” I pointed out. 

“Parker, was this you?” Sophie asked. 

“I didn’t even know they had kings and queens in high school,” she replied. 

“Yeah, um. I guess it was a good con,” Nate said. “Hardison, why don’t you set off the fire alarm right about now?”

“You two enjoy this, you earned it,” Hardison replied.

Music started and Hardison asked Parker for a dance. 

“Everybody having a good time at the dance, anybody wondering if we’re okay? If we made it out alive?” Eliot grumpily asked the team. 

“Do you want to dance? We can still hear the music,” I said, a blush coating my face at the question even though I asked it kind of sarcastically. 

Eliot paused, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Well, uh–”

“My vote is we get some good food,” I amended before he could say no. 

“Oh, yeah. That, uh, that sounds great right now,” Eliot answered. “Much better than a dumb high school dance.”

I let out a huff of a laugh and pulled out my earbud, “uh huh.”

The employee that we stole the key card from stood up from the bushes and Eliot quickly knocked him out again with a punch. 

“Was that necessary?” I asked him. 

“Probably not, but it made me feel better,” he answered while he dug his own earbud out.

I nodded and jokingly linked my arm with his as we walked silently towards his truck for a few paces. 

“What should we eat?” he asked me. 

“I don’t know.” I thought about it for a moment and remembered what he said earlier in the night, “What’s Pâté? Is that good? Should I try that?”

“Maybe not tonight, let’s take a drive and see what we can find.”

“Sounds good to me.”

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

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