#people underestimate her because she's blonde and bubbly

[onceuponalegendbg]

I was watching someone's soundtrack reaction to the Wicked movie when Defying Gravity popped up and they said this:

"From Glinda's perspective she's like 'Why would you not just put on a face? Do you have to say everything you feel, and do everything you stand by?'"

And I was just like: There! There! You broke Glinda down to her bare bones! Everything about her is a performance meant to make the majority of people adore her! She's a bubbly blonde with a pretty face. No one expects her to be anything else. Despite this though, Glinda is honestly the more strategic and less impulsive of the two. Elphaba constantly has so much passion just bursting forth. She's reactionary. And the hard part about Defying Gravity is that for a moment Glinda gets swept up in that passion. She cares for Elphie so much and of course she would love to go with her, look out for her, because Elphie's right about a lot of things, and they would be an unbeatable team.

But once Glinda stops to think, once she's able to truly grasp the severity of what Elphie's suggesting, all she can see is two young women going up against someone who controls perception throughout the whole country. She sees that they don't have a plan. They don't have anywhere to go. She sees them both having to run and run and run. She can't be as impulsive as Elphie. She can't even be as passionate. Because Glinda has buried so much of herself behind a facade that to be truly exposed for what she really is feels like it would be a death sentence for her.

Glinda is a coward in all the ways that truly matter.

And that's before we even get into Act 2, where the woman is truly just a person shaped by every regret and repressed feeling she's ever had hiding behind a pearly white smile and a dulcet giggle. She's the new puppet on a string, the new plaything for the propaganda machine and she couldn't be happier, couldn't be lovelier.

And when she does see Elphie again, she feels everything. She's so happy to see her alive, she's so mad at her for leaving, she's so defensive because she's ashamed of the part she's played in it all, of being encouraging to the people of Oz.

She hates her role. She hates the people eating up lies about her Elphie. She hates herself for letting her need to be admired and adored, her fear of losing all of that, keep her from the one person she truly ever loved with all her heart.

[staysafedontdie]

I thought I was free of BG3, but I was not.

(sorry Im not using the real app so it's not letting me edit correctly)

So, I made another Redeemed!Durge playthrough.

While my first one was narratively and cognitively dissonant, story-wise (an unusual looking Githyanki Bard, doing serial murdering in Baldur's Gate? Brushing elbows with powerful people? And no one noticed???) I decided to chalk that up to Bhaal being incredibly cocky. He has the old man voice and is much more tired than my current PC.

My goal with this updated playthrough was two-fold:

Make the ultimate Durge - constantly underestimated, can go anywhere, no one bats an eyelash at their presence.

Get Astarion as the first and only companion and using a specific guide (https://reddit.com/r/BaldursGate3/s/visFK1mKzl - top comment), get the scenes that I initially missed. (Most of the companion scenes are tiered/have priority, I think it's a combination of specific character and approval. Most often Astarion's scenes get overwritten by Shadowheart, Lae'zel, or Gale.)

So, my new character is a Female Half-Elf Bard (Sword Bard OP), with more traditionally Elven features, tanned skin, freckles, and light brown hair with a bit of blonde from sun-bleaching. She looks like the personification of the sun. Someone who's never gone a day without.

But she's also pretty, and forgettable -which is the important part. Other than the shattered dagger throat tattoo, a scar over her lips and the dagger earrings, she's just the girl next door. And since she's slight in build, she's constantly underestimated. It made for quick work to lure people to their doom.

the WORST part is that I've been writing blurbs between playing.

I've written over /16,000/ words. On my phone. Mostly idling in game, headphones on, listening to the ambient music. Or laying in bed. It's not even edited, it's just terrible stream of consciousness stuff.

I call the story collection 'Brief Moments in Time' and one of them involves my Half-Elf, Lysithea, having a core memory unlocked when Astarion is spouting lines at her during the Tiefling Party. Turns out she not only LIKES pick up lines, but also COLLECTS them. They were very useful for luring people to their deaths - like a less sexy version of what Astarion used to do for Cazador.

Here's the little memory flashback I have for her. The ending lines are meant to invoke that moment with the dying Mind Flayer you find at the crash site in Act 1. (Compassion??)

-----

The settings are vague, but the bustling environment must be a local tavern. She’s sipping ale quietly from a table that has a strategic vantage point. The occasional scratching of a quill in a book accompanies her gaze, making sure to take notes on would be targets.

But just over by the bar, she hears a drunken man say a fun pick-up line a little too loudly. Like Astarion she used whatever means she had to lure people away to their doom, and she pays attention to the honeyed words to try and see if they’ll be of some use to her.

“Are you a Gelatinous Cube? Because I feel like this encounter is going to end up with me inside you.”

Past the rage and the darkness that consume her, there’s a small bubble of… joy.

Joy?

-----

And then she spends the next little bit spouting lines at Astarion, which he rather likes because she calls him beautiful. And it's nice to be on the receiving end of such attention every now and again.

She's also aware the entire time he's using her, but doesn't care. She's got no sense of who she is, beyond a few small things, so she's using him as well for companionship and to help curb the urge and build new memories. After all, they're a lot alike.

UGH I JUST CANT STOP WRITING LITTLE GARBAGE THINGS ALL THE TIME. I HAVE BEEN CONSUMED. NOTHING REMAINS BUT BG3. please help me 😭

BUT!!

...In the future I want to do a Wyll run where I romance Karlach because I heard he goes with her at the end to Avernus anyway and they're so sweet to each other 🥹

[gabriella-nastasja]

Clueless and Legally Blonde Redefined Bimbo-Core

by Gabriélla Siebritz 

Two movies that are now considered cult classics have redefined and reshaped society’s view on femininity (more specifically hyper-femininity), through the lens of two bubbly blondes who love pink. 

These two films put its female leads at the forefront of showcasing how women embracing femininity doesn’t make them any less valuable or less smart than the other less “blonde” women featured in each of their respective stories. 

Throughout both movies, the leads (Elle Woods in Legally Blonde, played by Reese Witherspoon, and Cher Horowitz in Clueless, played by Alicia Silverstone), are consistently doubted because of their shared blonde heads of hair and love for traditional femininity that they outwardly express. 

These two films address the stereotype of “dumb blondes”, and the presumption that women who are overtly feminine must be simplistic bimbos. Cher Horowitz and Elle Woods are two characters who proved that yes, the patriarchy was wrong: you can be both beautiful AND smart at the same time.

Ultra-feminine women depicted in the media are often depicted in a negative way; either they’re a gorgeous demon bombshell using their beauty to commit horrors unto unsuspecting men (think Jennifer’s Body), the mean girl (think Regina George from Mean Girls), the airhead (think of Marilyn Monroe’s characters) or, the opposite to the less-feminine and “more relatable” main character (think Brooke Davis versus Peyton Sawyer from One Tree Hill or Jessica Stanley versus Bella Swan from the Twilight movies). 

In short, femininity = negativity. They’re boy-obsessed, mean and “catty”, fashion forward and makeup dependent, and sometimes they’re even murderers. 

During the storyline of Legally Blonde, Elle is made the butt of many “dumb blonde” jokes because most assume, upon looking at her, that she is not serious enough about anything other than herself. 

From the jump, Elle has been underestimated, most notably by her boyfriend and parents who are meant to love and support her, thinking/assuming that she’s not cut out for law school, which is Elle’s goal throughout the film.

Elle is not dumb (she got into Harvard after all), but others rarely see past her “blonde hair and big boobs”, assuming that because she enjoys shopping and has a fresh manicure, she must be shallow and dim-witted. 

At first, Elle’s motives for taking the LSAT’s and getting into Harvard Law are mainly to win back her ex-boyfriend, Warner, played by Matthew Davis. He (fake) sympathetically breaks up with her one night, because according to him, he needs “a Jackie not a Marilyn”, for the future of his career. 

After being dumped by Warner for not being “serious” enough (she says, “So you’re breaking up with me because I’m too...blonde???”), the peppy sorority blonde follows him to Harvard Law School - where we get the iconic phrase: “What, like it’s hard?”- to win him back at first, but later it’s to prove him (and others) wrong.

Legally Blonde sources its comedy from juxtaposing Elle’s bright-pink bubbly attitude and wardrobe against the prestigious and intellectual atmosphere of Harvard Law School.

Elle ultimately proves her doubters wrong, not by conforming to their expectations, but by demonstrating her worth while remaining true to herself. She’s shown to be ambitious, driven and dedicated to her studies, all while maintaining the same beauty routines she’s always had. 

Aside from Elle, everyone is dressed in muted or neutral colours. For example, Elle’s “rival” at the school, Vivian Kingston, is seen wearing predominately blues, browns and blacks in her clothing while Elle always has a touch of pink and obvious “girly-ness” present in her clothing, whether that’s through the hot pink pleather jacket and skirt she has on upon arriving at Harvard, or simple butterfly clips that keep that her bouncy blonde curls in place. 

Elle’s appearance is central to her character because it’s what people use to pass judgement and make assumptions about her. The entire film’s premise is that yes, Elle is a proud blonde, but she’s not a dumb blonde. 

And the same thing can be said about Cher Horowitz, the main character from Clueless, another and similar coming-of-age comedy about a self-empowered blonde girl. 

Cher also initially seems like a vapid valley-girl, others often seeing her as some “ditz with a credit card” (it’s assumed by other characters that Cher is nothing but an airhead, i.e that she’s “clueless” about life and only cares about herself), but the film shows there is nothing wrong with what Cher likes.

Although Cher’s story is more subtle and complex than Legally Blonde, as Cher does have some flaws, and the film is not built around proving others wrong, the premise is the same as Elle’s story.

While Cher may not be tackling law cases, she (just like Elle) is continuously trying to better herself as a person and do good for others without giving up her personality and the things she enjoys. 

Cher has a subtle intelligence of being aware of how the world works without sacrificing her personality. As a rich and privileged white girl, Cher actively steps out of her bubble and works on herself but doesn’t change herself to achieve that.

Like Elle Woods, Cher has a detailed knowledge of fashion, unabashedly enjoys makeovers, and carries a pen with a poofy-pink end, even helping her father with his upcoming trial-casework. 

While Legally Blonde and Clueless successfully advocated for the stereotypical blonde girl, other movies not-so-subtly demonize hyper-femininity. Such examples are the High School Musical trilogy and Mean Girls.

Mean Girls’ main character, Cady Herron, is the embodiment of the “not-like-other-girls” trope; she’s not fashion forward like the “Plastics” of the film (the popular, hyper-feminine group of girls), she’s not concerned with her appearance in the way that they are and she simply “doesn’t get it”.

Throughout the duration of Mean Girls, Cady pretends to be one of the Plastics at first to help her friend Janice Ian enact her revenge upon them for bullying her in previous years, but as time goes on and Cady spends more time in the company of Regina George (again, another blonde) and her squad, she becomes just like them. 

She becomes obsessed with a boy, obsessed with her appearance, unconcerned about her academics, and becomes a horrible friend to Janice and Damian. 

It isn’t until she denounces the world of hyper-femininity and reverts back to who she previously was, that she is viewed as a good person. 

Regina George (the supposed villain of Mean Girls) and Sharpay Evans, the antagonist of the High School Musical movies are both young, blonde girls who have a bright wardrobe and outwardly show an interest in hair and makeup; both of these characters are shown as “evil”.

Sure, they haven’t been the nicest people but Sharpay is clearly ambitious and driven towards her dreams and goals of being on Broadway, and Regina (although scheming and malicious at times) was quite a smart person - in my opinion - in how she manipulated others. Let’s also not forget that Regina isn’t the only villain; Janice and Cady were just as bad. 

The abovementioned female characters throughout this essay all proudly showcase their girly-ness as not something to overcome, but rather something that can be embraced. Another great example is the Barbie Dolls franchise; Barbie has over 200 careers, all while maintaining her signature pink colour palette.

There is no need to demonize femininity in the media. Shockingly, women can be many things at once. 

[theconsofrom-coms]

Unbalanced Power Dynamics, They do affect relationships

In everyday life, there tend to be scandals about how a boss and an employee have been caught in a relationship or, in more extreme cases, even a teacher and student. But when we look into romantic comedies, we also see that this is a very common trope in how everyday people fall in love.

I mean, one of the most common tropes in many forms of romantic comedies, such as movies, books, etc, is fake marriages, in which two people, usually a rich person pays a down-on-their-luck person to pretend to be their partner. And who has the most amount of power in each relationship, the one with either money, authority, or both.

The movies we will be analyzing when discussing the problematic power dynamics in many romantic relationships in rom-coms, "Legally Blonde," "The Proposal," and "Pretty Woman."

Legally Blonde, yes, if you're a "dumb blonde," it is totally fine to harass you...NOT

Legally Blonde is the story of a young girl named Elle Woods, often giving off the impression of a dumb blonde due to her bubbly personality, whose heart was broken, when her long-time boyfriend, Warner, breaks up with her, claiming he needs "a Jackie, not a Marilyn." Pushed by her desire to get back with Warner, Elle takes and passes the LSATs and gets into the same law school as Warner, Harvard Law School. After turning heads, due to her...unusual personality, she starts to make headway in her career as she helps her professor, Professor Callahan, in the murder case of Brooke Wyndham's husband, with the help of newfound friend Emmett Forrest. Though her aspirations of being with Warner are swiftly taken away, as she learns of his recent engagement to a girl named Vivian, she is able to get through it and take her law school career seriously after helping her new friend Paulette with a doggy custody agreement with her ex-boyfriend. After an incident with Callahan, which I will divulge into deeper later on, she decides that no one will ever see her as anything other than a joke. But with encouragement from her new friends and an inspiring professor, she is able to get back into the court and prove Brooke Wyndham's innocence and find the true killer. After which she rejects Warner, graduates from Harvard with honors, and gets engaged to Emmett.

Now, here's the issue and why I bring up this movie as an example of power dynamics. The incident with Callahan was a sexual harassment issue. Callahan tried to take advantage of Elle, with promises of helping her excel in her career. Basically, telling her that the only way a girl likes her will continue to grow in the field is by "Sleeping her way up." She feels intimated, as he is her professor, a man who everyone respects. She, of course, rejects his advances and decides to leave. As she believes him, as he could be right, he is a symbol of authority in the field of law. She has only experienced rejection and underestimation from the moment she crossed Harvard's doors. Thankfully, she is able to overcome her insecurities and succeed in the face of adversity.

The Proposal, blackmail...how romantic...

The Proposal tells the story of a business woman, Margaret Tate, who, because of her cold demeanor, is disliked by her employees. Due to her being Canadian, she is required to maintain a work visa, something that she wasn't able to do. So, she blackmails her secretary Andrew into pretending to be her fiancée in order to stay in the US with a marriage visa. Explaining that if she is deported, all his work as her secretary and his desire to be an editor would all be erased. He agrees to her terms only if she publishes his book as soon as this marriage contract is over. They're constantly questioned by US Immigration Officer Gilbertson over the validity of their engagement, claiming that if it is found out that they're committing fraud, Margaret would be deported and Andrew would be imprisoned. In order to strengthen their validity as a couple, Margaret travels to Andrew's hometown, Sitka, Alaska, where, after many shenanigans, they start to genuinely fall in love. When the time comes for their wedding, Margaret can't go through it and decides to tell everyone the truth. She is to be deported back to Canada. But, soon after, Andrew realizes his true feelings for Margaret and goes after her at the airport and confesses his true feelings for her, and they decide to get married for real this time.

The issue with this film is that the way in which this relationship comes stems from blackmail from a form of authority. Margaret is Andrew's boss and she has full control over whether he is able to advance in a field that he has been working really hard in. He has been busting his rump, catering to her every whim, and the fact that all that hard work could be flushed down the toilet, if he does not agree to her terms and conditions is indeed an abuse of power. So, does he really have any other choice in the matter? No...no, he doesn't, and that is very much a good example of an unbalanced power dynamic in a relationship. Even though Andrew is able to make the arrangement work to his advantage, in real life, it isn't always that easy.

Pretty Woman, a Cinderella story, if Prince Charming was possessive and surrounded by narcissistic creeps

Vivian Ward is a "lady of the night" and Edward is a corporate raider, in order to get Vivian to accompany him to a week-long business trip filled with corporate events, he pays her $3000. She accepts, and is given many gifts and etiquette classes in order to prepare her for the upcoming events. After which, Edward opens up to her and they start to become closer. Something more than a simple client and "prostitute" relationship. After an event in which Vivian talks to David, the son of the man that Edward is trying to make a business deal with, Philip, Edward's attorney questions him about it, and Edward reveals the fact that she is "paid company" in a fit of jealousy. Philip later on, approaches Vivian soliciting her after she is done with Edward, which greatly upsets her. Vivian confronts Edward for revealing their relationship, and Edward admits that he was jealous of David, after which, they sleep together and Vivian breaks her "no kissing on the lips" rule, meaning that she is in love with Edward. After their encounter, Edward tries to make a deal with Vivian in which he'd set her up at a very nice condo, give her an allowance, and visit from time to time, this once again, upsets Vivian, as she still feels like she is being treated like a prostitute, rather than his girlfriend. Vivian later explains that she always had a fantasy of being rescued by a knight in shining armor riding on a white horse. Edward later on meets with James, the man he intended to make business with, and rather than purchase his business, he decides to help him save it. This revelation upsets Philip, as he then goes to Edward's apartment trying to confront him about it, but finds Vivian instead, and tries to r*** her. Thankfully, Edward arrives in time and beats up and fires Philip. Vivian rejects Edward's final advance and decides to return home. Taking her actions into consideration, Edward decides to follow Vivian to her apartment in a white limousine and fulfills her fantasy. And they kiss, asserting their feelings for one another.

This entire relationship is on a basis of unbalanced power dynamics. Edward pays for Vivian's company and decides to change her, to make her "better" in the eyes of his society. He gets jealous whenever some other man even speaks to her, almost like he feels a sense of ownership over her and feels entitled to control her actions. And in a more blunt sense, Philip is a more extreme example of what Edward could've been as he sees Vivian, due to her career, as more like an object rather than a person. At first approaching her with a proposition, and then trying to take it by force. They're both men who feel like have power over Vivian, and that's what makes this relationship unbalanced. Thankfully though, Vivian allow these "gentlemen's" opinions affect the way that she perceives herself, she is a loud and proud woman who deserves as much respect as anyone else.

And so, that is all I have to say in respect to unbalanced power dynamics in romantic comedies.

I'll be back soon with our next topic, what will it be?

I wonder...

[briskoftrouty]

Forgiveness had to be earned. You could say Sam Evans was holding his heart close to the vest. He never asked anyone to be perfect, he never expected anyone to hold up to the standards in his head. But once you get burned it was himself he blamed for it. He witnessed his parents the perfect loving marriage, and yes we had our own short comings. We struggled to keep a roof over our heads, my father was jobless at one point. But my mother held his hand, and supported him. She also stepped up and took on the burden of the reality, they helped each other navigate the difficult time. And Sam wanted that kind of love that lifts you up. That you were able to count on. And Quinn he had been so in love with her; probably fell harder than he should’ve at the start. And maybe that’s why he got burned. Why Sam felt like a piece of him blamed himself for the ending. 

She cheated on him. She proved she wasn’t capable of commitment. And even now Sam found himself torn with himself. Why? Because he liked Quinn still loved her. And when it came to our friendship he saw how genuine she was; how much the blonde appreciated him. She tried to laugh off the discomfort we both felt. Sam wanted to forgive, he wanted to stop holding one mistake over her head, and over his own. But each time he ran into Finn, each time he caught sight of her with him talking, laughing in the hallway he had flashback to how stupid, how naive he’d been. To believe the pathetic excuses, and if it hadn’t been for Santana he probably would’ve brushed off the excuses and believed anything the female told him. Because he was a boy helplessly in love. 

But he cared, he couldn’t shake off the care he held for Quinn, her accident was terrifying not only for her; but for him. She was alone, she was reckless with the car, the phone. But he felt fear hearing the news. What if she didn’t pull through? What if she thought I hadn’t forgiven her? And Sam was trying desperately to forgive her; he was uncomfortable with the notion Quinn was trying to hint what she wanted, prom with him, but the only way he felt comfortable was with a group, his friends Mike and Tina being the prime example. And he appreciated her kind words; that she was willing to attend as a group, and his vote was the only one that mattered. 

Was she buttering him up? Was it an act to forgiveness? Honestly Sam could tell how truthful the blonde was. And his chest rise warmly as he nodded his head. “ I think you underestimate how liked you are. You’re an example of the Queen Bee the girl who has it all, but also it’s okay to fall down sometimes. To hit the bottom, and each time you come out on the other side.” An intense notion, as his eyes sparkled in the car, his warm infections grin said it all. He’d always believe in her. “ Perfect, I’ll let Mike know to make sure we have enough room for four people.” He spoke in this energized tone; knowing he needed to be upbeat, he wanted Quinn to forgive herself, to have fun this was her prom, the night she’d been counting down to. 

It was sweet, and he nodded along as his eyes darted to the park, the screen that was setting up for the movie, the main reason why I brought the bubbly blonde here; to forget, to enjoy ourselves. “ I appreciate that Quinn, I know it feels up in the air right now here, but we’re friends first okay.” Meaning he wasn’t going to be turning his back on her.

Continued

@teasedontplease

Broken hearts; the break ups haunt you. Sam always had a big heart; he felt it came from being a big brother. He tended to sugarcoat his feelings in order to put his siblings first. He cared about others more than he wanted to care about himself. When it came to Lima he felt he’d be the outcast, he never expected to be recruited from the glee club, or to make it onto the football team. He wanted to be involved. He wanted to be liked. But he got more than he felt he deserved. 

Quinn; she was the princess, the sweetheart of the cheerios. She was the it girl; and I liked her instantly. The second I laid eyes on her I felt that flutter in my chest. And I knew I wanted to win her over. She had reservations, she had her own secrets. Obviously he heard the rumors of her history; of the gossip mill. But Sam never cared he didn’t care about her mistakes from the year before. I cared about getting to know the her now. I had been stupid and naive to believe the blonde would fall in love with me. I had been stupid and got wrapped up in the us i wanted. Did I think too far beyond high school? Absolutely not. I had no idea what my future looked like; I played the days one at a time. I tried to replay the days that led up to the female cheating on me. Could I have do something differently? Was it my fault she felt the need to fall into the arms of an ex? Sam kept replaying the thoughts in his mind. And he was the good guy; the guy that cared a tad too much until she gave me the reason to turn my back on her. My biggest mistake was falling for Santana’s game; believing her when she told me she thought I should know. I was hurt, I felt my heart break into two. 

I lashed out; I felt out of character being with Santana; but it was easier than to face the hurt I felt. Each time I looked at her I felt the tighten of my chest, I felt the thought of wanting to cry spring to my eyes, but Quinn didn’t deserve me to react; she had hurt me on her own. But I also was sorry for hurting her instead of being the man my dad raised me to be which was to comfort the people who upset you. To comfort those that did you wrong. I had morals and for a few weeks I lost sight of it. But now I knew I was wrong; and that’s why I felt a piece of myself was forgiving Quinn. I cared enough to drag her out of her house after the accident. I cared enough to look her in the eye; to lash it out with each other. 

Tension and awkwardness; but I think the storm passed as we sat within the walls of my car. I felt the tension slowly wash away; I felt like we had to forgive ourselves before being able to be friends. Did I love Quinn? Yes; no doubt, but I was in no means prepared to jump right in. She had to earn the right to make her way into my heart again. Today wasn’t about us; it was about her; the want to take her mind off her injuries for a few hours. I had a plan in notion; the movie in the park; it would be dark in a few hours; and even if we sat in the car facing the screen I think she’d smile because it was her favorite movie. Well one of them. 

Hand rested on the wheel at the subject of prom. Did I detect a hint of hopefulness in her voice? Did I detect that she wanted me to ask her? Maybe a few months ago I would’ve but now? I didn’t trust myself or the blonde sitting in the seat next to me. I had tried to dodge the answer; not wanting to hurt Quinn and I didn’t lie. Tina and mike did want to go as a group; well more like I was tagging along as the third wheel. I had to laugh at myself how pathetic..? The blonde held his laugh until I turned his gaze over to the female. A soften gaze fixed onto his features. 

“ You know, I’m sure if you wanted you can tag along with the group, the more the better right?” A lightness to his voice shown, as he extended his hand out to place upon her own. A small touch to say he understood. “ I think each one of us is, for what it’s worth, you always have my vote for queen.” A softness in him; his eyes fixated on her; holding her gaze, a moment; one where he knew he was going to be in trouble.

[yanderenightmare]

I challenge you to write Bakugou with a op-quirked oc! like, last year in ua and this badass transfers. is he intimidated, is he angry, is he hyped? how hard does he fall for her?

BAKUGO KATSUKI

TW: this is d i f f e r e n t but no warnings I don't think

ARMAGEDDON

Third year sports festival, and they were letting the fucking transfer student compete?!

Don't get him wrong.

He wasn’t undermining or underestimating her abilities. Even with the two whole years more practice they had on her, she could still easily hold her own.

There was no denying the fact that she was a goddess on the field.

A warrior. 

A valkyrie.

It was much the reason why he watched her like a stalker, slightly intimidated with what he saw, but with good fucking reason. 

Though, there are plenty people that threaten his position as number one, and he wasn't exactly walking about dropping to his knees for Todoroki and Deku.

So, it was more the drop-dead fuck-all up-yours attitude accompanying her sheer skill that made him fall so stupidly and hopelessly in love with the little angle-winged hero-to-be. 

The first time she hovered into the classroom, coat of pearly white shining wings waving in the air behind her, defying all laws of gravity, all formulas of physics, she looked godsend. 

And by that he meant flashy, destined to a public favorite, a mascot, a real nice poster-hero. Not exactly a threat, not exactly worth his time.

Safe to say he wasn't impressed, but then again... he hadn't seen anything yet.

Midoriya, the fucking nerd, was just as excited as the rest of the class at the welcome of a new classmate.

However, they’d all come to realize real soon that the seemingly heavenly creature was as demonic as she looked angelic. 

At once as Deku’s bright gleaming freckle-face walked up to her to welcome her and wish her good luck in the Hero-course, droning on about how it couldn’t have been easy getting a scholarship with it already being more than halfway into their second year, she yawed, stretched her wings out behind her, let them blind him with their supersonic skylight, a brow cocked as she narrowed her gaze in something that could only be called disgust.

“Listen here, Snotball, don’t bullshit me. I’m ain’t come here for your public-pleasing fake smile. Go polish your skills instead of sucking my dick...”

Everyone went silent. Deku completely facepalmed, flaking where he stood, it was pitiful, almost made him feel sorry for him.

“Or at the very least, let me get comfortable first.” 

The ash-blonde couldn’t help but crack a smile and let a bubble burst inside him, a curt chuckle rising despite how he tried suppressing it. 

This girl had spunk, he appreciated not being the only one who could get a bit colorful with his language. 

Not only that, but the very same day she even beat Deku. And it pains Bakugo to admit it, but the nerd had gotten really good over the last couple years, with a shit ton of guidance of course, but it was no denying he didn’t have insane powers, and then to watch him be flung into a wall by none other than a newbie… it was inspired, transcendent, fucking phenomenal. 

“Thought I was all bark and no bite, huh? Didn’t you, Broccolihead? Better judge me correctly next time and not pussyfoot around with childsplay.” 

She wasn’t fucking around, she was here to kill… and Bakugo was fucking thrilled. Finally someone passionate, finally someone vurbal, and vulgar, finally someone who saw through to the rotton core of what Deku really was. Fuck, he swore he could fall in love with her…

And then he did… hard… like an angel from high-heaven all the way down to the very bottom pits of hell. Spending the entire summer pondering the fact, stopping in wonder at the fact, dissecting it, analyzing it, trying to digest whatever swarm of butterflies kept fluttering rabidly inside his gut because of it.

And then their third-year began, the Sports-festival not too long after, an event he was usually so unbelievably livid with glee for...

But now… he couldn’t help but dread it. 

Because weighing her skills and his own. He couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that she and him would probably have to face off at some point climbing to the top, and though he wanted to win as badly as every year, he was afraid that his wish to not hurt her outweighed his lust for victory.

And what more, what was even harder to admit… he wasn’t sure if he at all could beat her even if he tried.

.

And then his speculations came to fruition. They’d clawed their way to the top, killing off the competition one by one. 

“Listen up, candy-cane, better not let those daddy-issues get in my way of having a clear victory. Come at me with everything you got!” 

She’d just stepped off the field, having defeated Shoto. In the blaze of his flames and frostbite of his ice, she stood victoriously, crowd cheering, chanting, stupid victory-grin stretched on her face as she basked in the glory.

Next up was him and Deku, ending in broccoli-head’s defeat, but Bakugou couldn't really savor the victory much more than feel the treacherous inkling of regret fester inside him.

Because...

If he’d let Deku win, he wouldn't have to fight her now.

.

“Looks like it’s you against me next, poprocks!” She flashed a shit-eating open-mouthed smirk his way, eyes sparkling dangerously, wings spread out behind her. “Fitting, isn't it? Your hellfire and my angel wings! It’s bound to be a show, we’ll have them at the edge of their seats!”

With the height of her wings she was twice as tall as him. “Look, I don’t wanna hurt you, shortie.”

She scoffed and threw her head back in a laugh, still riding the wave of adrenaline she’d gotten from fighting Todoroki. “Gloating before our match even begins?” She quipped, eyebrows thrown up and eyes so very blindingly daringly bright. “How very Bakugo of you.”

“Listen-” He started, but she cut him off with a battle-glint lighting up her face.

“No, you listen. Your fire may have everyone shitting themselves, but my wings are not easily tamed, and will sweep you and your explosions right off the field.” She pointed at him with the tip of her wing, tickling his chin with the longest feather. “There’s a reason demons fear angels, you know?” She grinned. “So, pick a god and pray to it, Bakugo, ‘cause I’mma bring on Armegeddon before I lose to you-”

“I like you.”

It was kind of like ripping off a band-aid. The brace, the expectations of ripping out hair. Waiting to see if he’d bleed or not.

He’d never liked anyone. Whether it be friends or something more. He’d like when people liked him. Where like meant admire or envy. And he guessed to some extent he might have liked them in return. Where liked meant appreciated. He obviously didn't like being alone. No point in being the best if he has no one to tell him he’s the best, no way to prove he is the best, no one to prove it to, no geeky nerd screaming in his corner and no idol he needs to beat.

Everything felt reversed. Upside-down.

But not necessarily wrong.

Like he was the nerd, the extra, and she the main character.

“What’re you…” She stopped, voice light and fading out into nothing. 

Her brows furrowed, eyes hardening as she glared at him, wings ruffling behind her, frayed like static. 

“You’re trying to throw me off my game.” Voice devoid of all playfulness, just strictly accusing, serious, cold.

She scoffed, cracking her knuckles, still eyeing him, not letting him rest under her scrutiny.

“I didn’t peg you for one to wage psychological wars.” She judged.

Her accusation had him thrown back. “That’s not-” He protested, large scathed hands finding themselves reaching out towards her to defend himself. 

“Keep your sweaty hands to yourself, Baku-bitch.” It was like an attack. A threat like a snarling gnarling growling barking animal, eyes narrowed, slitted, dark tear ducts making her eyes look so sharp, bladed like daggers. “I’m looking forward to crushing you.” A gust of wind hit him like a storm’s breath as she turned, wings acting like a fan, sweeping the dust and leaving him there to himself.

.

Her expression hadn't changed come battle, it seemed somewhat more sunken now, to the point he couldn't quite remember what her face looked like normally, couldn't shake the eerie hostility her whole being flashed at him, as though she had no other goals but to murder him.

He can't recall ever having seen a girl like this. 

It was scary.

The sound of the announcer shouting “Begin!” only barely registered in her head. The crowd was cheering, but she didn't notice, she heard none of it and thought none of it with the blood rushing in her head and the vivid battle-drumming heartbeat pounding in her chest, strumming against her ribcage, telling her to charge. 

The only thing she could focus on was the boy in front and how he didn't opt for the first move like he usually did.

She breathed shallowly through her nose, puffing as her teeth would not budge from their clenched state. Eye twitching in her waiting for him to pounce, but he didn't show her the respect.

“Ladies first, is it?” She spoke through grit teeth, her lips set into a hard grim line.

I like you.

I like you?!

Bet he laughed a good long while after coming up with that one.

I’ll give him something to laugh at...

“Come on, all-time-champion...” She mocked, feeling herself grow cold all over, wings frayed, raised up like a cat arching its back in hostility, kept furiously tense behind her. “Give me a good fight.” Knuckles were white in their fixed fists at her sides, her whole self shook up with rage. Nostrils flaring, eyes ablaze and dead-set, brows lowered, narrowed at him, lips formed up into a snarl.

He swallowed thickly. He’d gone quiet, out of character. The hot summer’s day had somehow gone completely cold, a chill settling like broken ice in his stomach, goosebumps springing to the surface of his skin, like an armada wanting to protect him from what eerie malice he was standing in the presence of. 

“I want people’s eyeballs popping from their sockets as I dethrone the king.”

His breath quickened, but he hadn't the time to think as she, with a primal snarl, launched herself at him. A feather-dagger raised in her fist as she jabbed it right into the ground where his face would have been if he hadn't ducked away to the side, only barely avoiding the attack within an inches reach.

“Fight me!”

Struggling with pulling her daggered feather from the dirt of the arena as she’d managed to plunge it rather deep into the ground, she aimed to punch him in the face with her other free hand, succeeding a number of times before he caught her fist in his hand, though it didn't help him much as by the time she’d managed to loosen her make-shift knife from the ground, readying it to slice open his neck.

“Come on! Fight me!”

He caught her other wrists with the daggers tip half an inch away from his throat. She glared down at him, growling, face twisted in blinding white-hot rage, snarling, mightily fighting against him, trying to angle her feather or fist or anything to hurt the boy beneath her.

Kill him.

A voice in her mind urged.

He deserves it.

It reasoned.

“Try harder! Don't you dare hold back!”

Managing to point the dagger down to the hand holding up her wrists, she sliced open a large cut across the back. 

Trapped, as he needed to keep holding her back, he had to endure the knife cutting into the network of veins in his hand, until he finally managed to push her off him.

She rolled off into a stance, wings kept aloft as she circled him.

“What are you doing?!”

He wasn't that quick in the making of getting to his feet, or at least not as quick as her, and because of it she was quickly on him again, aiming to jab the knife directly into his abdomen, though once again he managed to deflect, but only barely, the knife slicing up the side of his midriff.

“Quit playing!”

None of it was usual. Neither of them practiced their normal fighting routines. Bakugo wasn't using his quirk, he wasn't even fighting back, in fact, he was barely even deflecting. And the angel-winged one, who usually fought from a distance was now instead fighting like a rabid animal in a ring-match.

“Wow! They say don't bring a knife to a gunfight, but our angel-winged Seraph is showing us that a Bazooka-Bakugo is no good when he’s out of ammo!” Present Mic called from the commenters crows nest.

He must've not seen it, how the ashen-haired boy started backing away.

“Stop!” She screamed, but he didn't listened, large mud-caked black military boot raised from the sand of the arena in one second, landing on the pavement outside the ring in the next.

The crowd gasped.

“Dynamight has stepped out of the ring!” Mic’s voice boomed out in surprise. “Has he surrendered?!” 

She stood still as a statue, not dropping her stance, wings still kept on edge.

“I would too if anyone gave me that look!” The blonde commenter continued. “Either way, Dynamight’s out!” 

She whispered something beneath her breath, face grim.

“Seraph has won!”

“No!” She roared, chest heaving. “The fight isn't over! You’re not giving up!” Her face had somewhat altered, close to what he’d imagine betrayal would look like.

“The rules are clear Seraph, stepping outside the border is equal to withdrawing.” Midnight said calmly, whip at her side.

“That’s bullcrap! I haven’t won yet!” She raged, whipping around to look at the black-haired domenatrix-hero, before turning around once again to stare daggers at the boy who’d just ruined everything. “You!” She seethed, following after him, out of the rink, one quick decided angry step after the other. “You sack of shit, you fucking gremlin filth-”

“If you do not calm down, you’ll leave me no choice.” Midnight warned from behind her, but she couldn't care less.

“Bakugo! You piece of trash! You worm! You bastard! You shitstain asswipe motherfucking scumbag son of a bitch waste of human space!”

A fog of some sorts oozed out onto the field, laid thickly like fairy dust, surrounding the winged-hero who began wobbling in her attacking approach, only barely having caught up with the red-eyed boy, grabbing onto his collar with hands that no longer had the strength, quickly leaning on him instead of yanking him back into the ring like she’d intended.

“You fucking coward extra...” Her voice groggy, not able to uphold the spite it once held. “I fucking hate y-” He caught her before she collapsed completely, her eyes closing softly, the wrathful expression melting away in her heavy slumber.

And it was strange.

How it seemed he’d fallen in love with a person so blindingly similar to himself.

.

Standing on the second-place podium, he peeked a glance at her standing taller then him. Accepting the medals, though refusing to say thanks to the hero treading them over their heads.

She was too busy trying to contain herself.

He was too busy thinking of ways to apologize. 

Thinking of ways to fix things, to give back what he’d just robbed her off. Nostalgia tripping him up, remembering how angry it had made him when Todoroki did the exact same thing to him in their first year.

Only Shoto had an excuse.

He doesn't.

.

“How dare you back down, you Katsu-fuck?!” She growled, stomping up to him at once she’d spotted him lurking in wait for her in the hallway, her fists grabbing his collar despite the difference in height, pulling him forward before slamming him back against the wall.

“I told you.” He defended, still not fighting back. “I didn’t wanna hurt you, you idiot.”

“Hurt me!?” The tears sprung to the surface much to quick for her to control, hot and stinging, welling up, boiling over, and streaming down her face like wild waterfalls. “Have you any idea how insulting that is?” 

Brows crinkled in tremors, bottom lip quivering, caught between her teeth as she sucked in an exasperated breath. 

“How embarrassing and humiliating and hurtful it is to know that you-” Her fingers detached from him to have her wrists rub and wipe her eyes. “Don’t value me as an equal!” 

She whimpered, dragging her forearm over her eyes, struggling to breathe. 

“You selfish prick!” Her eyes shimmered, glossy and guiltily admittedly very pretty. “You egotisctical narcissitic shit-eating asshole!” 

She beat his chest, looking on the verge of a breakdown, sniffling, looking so very heartbroken. 

“What?! You’re not gonna say anything?! You just gonna stand there?!” 

Her chest heaved, breath in shambles before she scoffed. 

“Fucking douchebag.” Voice nothing but a defeated little whisper now.

“I’m sorry.” He said, hands priorly held loosely at his sides, now raised a little, tensely kept in the air as he contemplated what he should do. The girl standing so close, clutching to his shirt, wringing it in her fists, wanting more than some measly pointless apology.

“Fuck off...” She bit out, sucking it up. Hands leaving him in favor of ripping loose the medal around her neck. “This means nothing because of you...” Pushing it to his chest were he knew not to refuse it. “None of it means anything.” 

And at that she walked away, leaving him once again mute in the hallway. Her wings dragged behind her, sweeping the floors like a mop, like deadweight.

.

Everyone had gone home for summer-break.

Leaving the rooms empty and the dorm quiet.

Everyone expect Bakugo.

And her.

He didn't usually get butterflies in his stomach. He thought he was sick at first, until understanding the strange bubbly frizzy busy feeling was probably due to the fact that they were both sleeping in the same building, all alone, together.

It had been a couple of weeks since the Sports Festival.

She’d been quiet.

He’d been quiet.

There was one night, at one post midnight he’d blasted music so loudly the floors in his dorm shook, practicing drums, screaming to lyrics, creating as much noise as possible in hopes of her stomping over to his room to yell at him to be quiet. Give him an opportunity.

She hadn't come though.

Kirishima had given him pointers on what to do. The red-head telling him to apologize however many times it takes. But Bakugo knew that an apology is weightless without anything to uphold it.

He thought he might have the summer-break alone to think about it. To train and study and think, rack his brain, wring it for every drop it was worth, perhaps even watch a stupid soppy romantic film, get some inspiration.

But he already knew that there was only one thing that had a chance of making it better. The exact same thing he’d wanted from Todoroki back during the result of the first sports festival. And it wasn't a stupid apology, nor was it validation. In the end it’s not even about the fight, it’s about respect.

He’d disrespected her. He’d done the worst imaginable thing.

And now, he was standing outside her door. Sports-bag in hand, loaded with protein water and energy bars, a couple of other things he needed to go train.

He’d been standing there for a while now. So long his knee had started to jerk, impatiently waiting for him to knock on the door. His face was scrunched in frustration, visibly angry at himself.

Rolling his eyes finally, he took a gamble, fist rising to bang on the door.

She opened up rather quickly for someone knowing that there could only be one other person on the other side. 

“Hey...” He said awkwardly, voice strange coming from him, his tongue heavy and way too big in his mouth.

“You still here?” Only one word could describe her tone, and that was uninterested. 

“Parents are on holiday.” He answered quickly, like he was being interrogated.

Jaded eyes seemed to look past him, sighing. “Did you need something?” Her voice was so nonchalant, so very dead it irked him. Her expression too, dull, like she was just waiting to slam the door in his face. 

He cleared his throat, trying to regain whatever confidence he had before he’d ever met her, yet seemingly having forgot what the feeling at all is supposed to feel like. “I’m gonna go train… You wanna- uhm…” He swallowed thickly, suppressing whatever embarrassing voice-crack he felt the oncoming humiliation of. “You wanna come?”

She seemed to straighten herself at that, eyes showing a smidge of interest. “Rematch?” 

“There’s more to training than just fighting, y’know.” He tried, but regretted it at once he saw her falter.

“Not that I cant do on my own-” She began closing the door.

“Fine!” He nearly shouted. “We can fight.”

“Really?” She peeked up at him, not fully won over yet, still suspicious. “And you won’t hold back?”

“Y-yes.” He decided not to think of it. There was no one around to see him fail, and he’d hurt her more by trying not to hurt her. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Sighing and looking off to the side. “It was a shitty thing of me to do.” He grumbled. “Half’n’half pulled the same shit on me in first.” It was strange to compare himself to the aloof jewel-headed boy, but here he was. “Drove me mad.” He remembers training in the garage, punching the concrete wall instead of the worn-out bunching-bag, so hard he broke three fingers before stopping.

“I have more conditions.” She spoke, bringing him out of his trip down memory-lane. “We play outside.”

Play is a strange word for it. 

“Fair.” He agreed, feeling himself loosen up along-side her, the deadly hostile aura fading.

“And no boundary rules.” She added, raising a brow at him, obviously hinting to his stunt during the sports festival. “We fight until one of us break.”

“Good. I always hated that rule, makes it too easy for my opponent to give up.” He gave a small smile to which she answered with an equally small flashing smirk of her own.

“You’re one to talk!” She accused. “I’ll never give up, I can promise you that. Can you say the same?” She taunted.

He scoffed. “As if I would ever surrender again after you bawled like a little crybaby. Wouldn't want you to ruin anymore of my shirts with tear-stains.” 

She gaped at him. “Until one of us can’t move then.”

“Fine!” He grinned.

“Great!” Her smile spread wide, the life fully reentered her eyes like a match had been struck, ignited inside, flames flickering and casting those terribly playful dark shadows looming about like demons inside her. “Let me just get dressed, you dipshit!” 

“Right.” His face grew hot, palms sweaty, his head had been so crowded he hadn't even noticed she was wearing nothing but pajamas.

Cute small pajamas.

His heart was pounding now, the smell of her room different from his as it wafted out into the hallway where he stood.

“Oh, and... I guess... I’m sorry too.” He snapped back to reality upon her uncalled for apology. “I lost control.” She explained.

“We’re even then.” He decided.

“That depends...” She disagreed, eyes round as she looked up at him. “I shouldn't have lost my shit either way, but if you weren't lying to get a rise out of me... I flipped out for no reason at all.” 

“I wasn't lying.” He admitted. “I-” Fumbling, back flexing and grating in discomfort, needing him to grab onto the strap to his bag to pull it onto his shoulder again. “I...” His brows furrowed. “I shouldn't have to repeat myself!” He growled. “I’m not a liar.”

“So... you- do... like me?” She’d cocooned herself in her wings, brushing her feathers anxiously. “In that case... I owe you.” With a pout she sighed and huffed. “I don't like being in debt to anyone.” Grumbling. “You better make your wish-”

He made another gamble. 

He hadn't ever kissed a girl. There had been lovesick girls who thought of him as a charity case, who’d sneaked a couple of unwanted kisses to his cheek, however they’d all stopped after realizing he wasn't interested. 

He’d thought a lot about it the past months. What made this girl different from everyone else. What made him go out of his comfort zone and give away this very first kiss to her. What made him stop in the middle of his day to think about her. Dream about her. Play out all sorts of junk scenarios in his head about her and him and how they’d get to this very moment. 

He’d waisted a lot of time thinking about it, he realized, when he could have just gone and made it reality.

He pulled away, feeling as though some fog had been lifted. “There.” His voice was hoarse, gruff. “Debt paid.” She looked stunned, but pleasantly so, her small hands, softly laid atop his own who grabbed her cheeks and mushed her face like a marshmallow. 

That’s probably not how you’re supposed to kiss someone, treating their face like a dodgeball, but at least she was blushing equally much as him.

He cleared his throat, let go of her and tore his eyes away from the adorable flustered look she was giving him, if only to hide the fact that he was just as panicked as her, perhaps even more so.

“Now get dressed already.”

[13uswntimagines]

Pink Goes Good With Green (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Request: R is famous but not part of the USWNT (what kind of famous is up to you) and one day she goes to watch a practice before kissing Alex. The rest of the team comment about how Alex got the pretty one?

Authors Note: So this has a bunch of references from Wicked (the musical). Also special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ for her amazing help with this one. I hope you Enjoy! Let me know what ya think!

Eight shows a week was a killer. It made long-distance particularly difficult because you were either always on stage or in a makeup chair getting greenified. But you freaking loved your job, just as much as Alex loved hers. Being Elphaba was a dream come true. Like, you-had-literally-been-dreaming-about-this-since-middle-school, dream come true. 

But even with that, finally getting a day off so you would watch your amazing girlfriend practice was a godsend. You knew you had permission to get into USWNT practice whenever, and with the team having a game so close, so you decided to hop on a quick train to Jersey to surprise Alex during practice. Getting into the stadium was nerve-wracking, you never felt comfortable in large crowds unless you were on stage, but getting an up-close view of the love of your life in her element had made the haste worth it. You pulled out your phone and a roll of Halloween Oreos to munch on. Sweet OZ, your girlfriend looked hot in that blue kit, and her signature pink pre-wrap. 

The nice part of being Elphaba was that no one recognized you without the makeup. I mean, there were occasional fans who knew you from other shows like Phantom or Mean Girls, but recognizing you without your various wigs and period getups was incredibly rare. So now, with your relative obscurity, you could watch Alex on the field, and snap a few photos. You got one with a Snapchat filter, where she was covered in bubbles. You were sure your castmate Kara would have be proud of its Galindaeyness. A few strokes of a blue paintbrush to give her a puffy skirt and you added the caption “Found the Glinda to my Elphaba.”

“Hey Alex, looks like you’ve got some paparazzi in the stadium.” Kelley nudged Alex at the water break, tilting her head in your direction. She was the only one who knew about your relationship, the two of you wanting to keep it quiet for now. 

“What?” Alex looked up in your direction and saw you. You quickly saved the Snapchat picture you took and sent it to her. When you looked up she had run over to your side of the seats and was leaning over the rail to grin at you. 

“Fancy meeting you here stranger, fly here on a broom?” She asked, pulling you into a hug. 

“Well, we can’t all come and go by bubble. I took New Jersey Transit. I could have flown but you know how it is,” you shrugged, feeling facetious, “Parking’s always a nightmare.”

“Hmm, tough show last night?” Alex asked laughing as she leaned up to kiss your lips. You quirked your eyebrow at her. Last night had been a fantastic show. Oliver had been your Fyero and you got to meet his boyfriend after and have some drinks. “What?” You asked, tilting your head to the side adorably. 

“You got a little green right,” Alex leaned further forward to brush the underside of your cheekbone, right below your ear, with the back of her fingers, “there.” You froze at her touch, unable to find the words to speak. It was taking your brain a hot second to think after the softness of her touch. That might have been the sexiest thing that had happened to you in months. Distance sucked.

“I promise I showered. Twice,” you blurted out, once the loading symbol in your brain had stopped turning. You wanted to make a good impression on her teammates, and you had left a smudge of green on your face. People underestimated how hard that shit was to get off. 

“Hey Morgan, you gonna introduce us to the girl before you eat her face or do we have to wait till you’re done?” Ashlyn yelled, interrupting your moment, causing a deep blush to settle on your cheeks. Ali elbowed her wife and rolled her eyes. “Ignore her Alex, you can introduce us to your pretty girl after you’re finished,” 

“Ohhh now this is cute. Look at her Snapchat!” You looked over to see someone holding up Alex’s phone showing off what was unmistakably the photo you had sent her a minute ago. The rest of the team gathered around to look at the small screen. 

“Who is that and how does she know your phone password? It’s like, 15 numbers long,” You said staring out at the swarm. You thought you heard Ashley wolf-whistled as she got close enough to see the screen.

“That’s Emily. She’s basically the Fyero of the team. Just dancing through life,” Alex said, rolling her eyes and waving her arms similarly to the choreography of the song. You sobered at the reference. 

“But… Fyero gets the girl in the end…” You mumbled, glancing warily at the blond woman showing off your girlfriend’s phone. You 

“Yeah, maybe that’s a bad analogy. I will be very disappointed if you dump me for her. And plus, For Good is the real love song in that story,” Alex shrugged, pulling you back in for a hug. You cliched her tightly as she started to hum the harmony to your favorite line. You would always wonder how a smol theatre baby had scored an amazing woman like her. 

“Careful. For good sounds an awful lot like the beginning of a proposal.” You laughed into her ear. 

“When I propose, it won’t be with a Wicked reference,” Alex said sincerely.

You smiled back, glad you weren’t fated to be separated like the character you played on stage. You would always love Alex, and she would always love you… green paint and all.

[elocs]

                                            ──    HSHQTASK041  :  inspiration.    ❜

otherwise known as  :    well-dressed, dramatic and everything done to a tee.

elle  woods  from  legally  blonde  .

elle was one of the main inspirations i had when creating eloá, and it’s because of many reasons.    elle is a very upbeat individual, who cares very much for people in her life and is always open to meeting new people.    this, in essence, is the way elo is.    she’s almost constantly got a smile on her face, will go to the ends of the earth for the people she loves, and loves socialising and making new friends  !    like elle, eloá also tends to get underestimated a lot, despite being smart in general.    people tend to take her bubbly and energetic nature as a sign of her being the opposite of intellectual, but eloá, like elle, loves proving people wrong and won’t ever left their opinions effect her or stop her from getting what she wants.    elle is also kinda the reason why i wanted elo to study law in college, although their reasons are completely different    (  elo would rather be seen dead than be seen going to harvard for a man  !  )

cher  horowitz  from  clueless  .

cher horowitz is probably one of my favourite characters ever, and i see a lot of things in cher that are paralleled in eloá  !    like cher, eloá is moral and helpful to anyone who needs it, and is incredibly thoughtful.    eloá also shares cher’s love of shopping  !    eloá would be more than happy to spend all day and everyday in a mall and, the same as cher, would probably spend far too much than should be allowed, but who cares  !    fashion is everything to her  !    although eloá isn’t quite as superficial as cher, she can be quite self-centered at times and doesn’t really have an awareness of her own spoiled privilege.    but, making others happy and find joy in doing good deeds  !

caroline  forbes  from  the  vampire  diaries  .

caroline is the loml so ofc she would shine through eloá  !    the biggest stand out for me with caroline and elo is that they both need perfectionism to survive and the only way they feel they can be achieved is by having things in their own hands.    they both love planning events  !    they both have to put dresses on hold then get extremely pissed when cough elena somebody steals the dress they were going to wear  !    but they are both also incredibly dependable and encouraging.    they both would do anything for their friends, and have a tendency to be a little or a lot overdramatic, and can also be very insecure.    they can both also be incredibly judgemental, and find it difficult to hide that judgement 

[c-r-ash-crash]

New Life Ch 3

Bdubs’ communicator exploded with vibrations as messages flooded into the chat. Most of them were some variation of demanding to know exactly what the Boogeyman was. Bdubs was curious too, but he noticed that the server had sent him a private message. Quietly, he checked it and his eyes scanned over what it said.

“You are the boogeyman. You must by any means kill a green or yellow life by direct action to be cured of the curse. If you fail, next session, you will become a red name. All loyalties and friendships are removed while you are the boogeyman.”

Bdubs ran his tongue over his lips nervously. Oh. As subtely as he could, he glanced down at his wrist. Four hearts were still there, marked in dark green ink. He tilted his comm slightly to check the color of his eyes. They were still dark brown as always. He blew out a breath. The bloodlust hadn’t started yet. He had a few hours at most to get away from everyone else on the server. To warn them.

Then, he read over the message again. “If you fail, next session, you will become a red name.” Slowly, the meaning sunk in. Unless he killed someone within the next nine days, he would kill everyone. Then, he glanced up at Etho. He was so, so screwed.

Scott trailed behind Pearl as she clambered over the hill, looking for a good place to set up their base. He rubbed at the skin on his wrist, but stopped once he realized what he was doing. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the sight of Jimmy’s smiling face, hands rubbing over his palm. Jimmy had always rubbed at his wrist like that whenever he was stressed. He had promised Scott that he himself would die before he let anyone take a single life from Scott. Guess he had been right.

Scott missed him. He missed the sunshine that would come with the blonde as soon as he entered the room. He missed the bright smile and bubbly laughter. He missed being able to smile, missed those fleeting moments where he thought everything might be okay. As long as he had Jimmy by his side, nothing could go wrong. His crown sat heavy against his brows.

Suddenly, a voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Scott?” Pearl called out from the top of the hill. “You alright?” Scott’s eyes snapped open, and he met Pearl’s concerned expression. “Oh, yes, I’m fine,” he replied, plastering a small smile onto his own face. Pearl didn’t buy it. “Scott, if you need a moment, we can stop for a bit.” “No, no,” Scott assured her. “Really, Pearl. I’m fine.”

Then, his eyes caught on a small smudge of bright red against the green grass. He cupped the flower gently in his hand. Then he plucked it and tucked the poppy behind his ear. “Let’s go,” he said, marching on.

Bdubs’ pick dug into the iron ore, pulling the metal free. He picked up the item drops and tucked them into his bag. “Oh, so I figured out what that boogeyman thing was about,” Etho said from the other end of the cave, startling Bdubs into dropping his pick. “Oh, sorry,” Etho said. “Anyways, that boogeyman thing. Basically, we have to kill someone else or else we get down to our red life.” “Wow,” Bdubs said, voice even. “Glad neither of us got that then.” “Well, you can’t be sure of that,” Etho said. “For all you know, the server could have chosen me.” Bdubs chuckled lightly. “C’mon, don’t joke about that. Sounds like you basically have to act like a red life or else you actually become one. If you ask me, that sounds like some pretty serious pain.”

“Yeah, no doubt,” Etho said, pocketing more coal drops. “But if I were the boogeyman, I could kill you right now if I wanted to.” Bdubs’ heart skipped a beat. He was the boogeyman. Etho didn’t have to kill anyone. Besides, he was still on his green life, or rather his dark green life. The bloodlust wouldn’t have started yet.

Suddenly, a pickaxe embedded itself into the stone next to Bdubs’ head. He whirled around to see Etho’s hand on the hilt. “What the heck, Etho?” he exploded. “You almost hit me!” “But I didn’t,” Etho said with a shrug. “Wasn’t planning too anyways. Just wanted to scare you.” “W-well you did a great job of that,” Bdubs spluttered.

Suddenly, he realized how close at hand his sword was, how close Etho’s unarmored chest was. He shoved the thought down. He wasn’t on his red life yet. He couldn’t kill anyone yet. He wouldn’t kill anyone. His stomach began to turn in knots, and he turned his attention back to mining, trying to quiet the pounding headache that had sprung up. He wouldn’t kill anyone. He wouldn’t. Then his hands began shaking.

“I think I’m gonna go get some food,” he mumbled, stumbling back up the mineshaft he and Etho had made. Once he reached the little shelter they had made for themselves, he slid down against the wall, grateful for the feeling of cool stone against his feverish skin. Shakily, he pulled out his comm and re-read the boogeyman message for the thousandth time. A single word jumped out at him. “Cured.” Unless he killed someone, he would die.

Grian slipped through the dark trees, watching for a zombie and listening for the telltale hiss of a creeper or a bow being drawn. The forest was quiet, and any hint of monsters was far off. He still didn’t remove the cloth covering his small lantern. Then, from in front of him came the sound of loud cheerful singing.

He picked up his pace as he recognized the sound of the voice. “Scar!” he called. The singing stopped. “Grian?” Scar asked nervously, as the light of a small lantern flooded the forest. Grian uncovered his own lantern just a smidge, and caught a flash of light blue. He froze. “Is that diamond armor?” he asked, stunned. “You like it?” Scar asked, spreading his arms wide once Grian came into sight. “How did you of all people end up the first in diamond armor?” Grian asked incredulously. “Just lucky I guess,” Scar said with a shrug. Then Grian noticed the six pack etched into the diamond.

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “That’s not diamond armor is it?” “What?” Scar said exaggeratedly. “Of course it is!” “Armor doesn’t have six packs engraved into it.” Scar’s brow furrowed in disappointment. “Is it really that obvious?” he pouted. “Only ‘cause of the obviously fake muscles,” Grian teased. “What is that made out of anyways?” Scar shrugged. “Cloth. Had some tailor make it for me before we moved to Season eight.” “So you mean if I hit you, it won’t give you any protection?” “Of course it will,” Scar said. “No need to test it out.” Grian punched him in the chest.

Scar stumbled back, winded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Grian muttered to himself. “How do you hit so hard, dude?” Scar wheezed. “You have like no muscle on those arms.” “Says the man with a fake six pack engraved into his armor,” Grian shot back. “But seriously, don’t underestimate me.” “I don’t,” Scar said, recovering somewhat. “I only survived the game because I had you on my side.”

Grian’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What is it?” Scar asked, mood plummeting instantly. “Scar,” Grian began, tone dead serious. “Everything that happened last time, it’s all null and void. Our old alliance...it’s dead.” “So you mean I can’t put you on a llama and take you to the desert?” Scar joked. Grian didn’t smile. “You really mean that?” Scar asked, crestfallen. Grian nodded tightly. “New round, new rules.” Then he perked up. “Which speaking of, have you tried the give life command?”

“The what command?” Scar said, slightly startled by the sudden change in topics. “Yeah,” Grian said excitedly. “Apparently we can give each other lives, this round. Which, when you think about it, explains why we all got a random amount of lives. And it explains why some of us even got four lives.” “That actually makes a lot of sense,” Scar mused. “But who would I even try the command on?” he asked. “Well, you’ve got me,” Grian suggested. “I’ll give it right back, I promise. I just want to see how it works.”

Scar hesitated for a moment, searching Grian’s face. But then he said: “Alright, how do I do this give life command.” “Say this,” Grian said, typing something into his communicator. Scar’s own comm buzzed. “Why can’t I just repeat after you?” Scar asked. “Because then I’d give you a life,” Grian explained. “And if I did that, I’d be on my red life. And I really, really don’t want that.” “That makes sense,” Scar said with a nod. Then, he began reading off the comm.

“ᓭꖎᔑᓭ⍑ ⊣╎⍊ᒷ ꖎ╎⎓ᒷ”

Golden light enveloped Grian and Scar, and their feet lifted off the ground. The light drifted from Scar, wrapping itself around Grian, settling in his bones, and etching another heart into his wrist. The ink turned a vibrant lime green, and suddenly both Grian and Scar dropped to the ground.

Grian stumbled for a moment, then he regained his bearings. “That was something,” Scar muttered, still trying to regain his balance. Then, Grian glanced down at his communicator. He reached to turn it off, but glanced down at the list of player names. His hands stopped as he realized Scar’s name was dark green. “Scar, it’s still saying you have four lives here.” “No, I have five left,” Scar said, proffering his wrist for Grian to see. There were indeed five dark green hearts there. Grian’s brow furrowed. “Wait, but that would mean...you started with six lives?” he asked, jaw dropping. Scar nodded. “Like I said, I’m just lucky.” Grian shook his head, clearing the whirlwind of questions that had sprung up.

“Yeah, I’m not giving this back,” he said. “What-no!” Scar exclaimed, reaching for Grian, but he was already sprinting away through the forest, laughter echoing off the trees.

Jimmy bounced along, skipping over the grass, tossing his spyglass between his hands. He reached the peak of the hill, and stretched. He hadn’t exactly gotten a good night’s sleep last night, worrying about what it meant that he was back in the game, and trying to figure out what this new boogeyman thing was. Besides, a small hole in the side of a mountain never made for a great shelter.

Suddenly, he heard voices drifting up the hill. He stopped, tucking his spyglass into his pocket, just in case. Two faces appeared over the top of the hill. He recognized Pearl’s dark colored hoodie and Scott’s bright blue hair. “Hey!” he called out, waving. Pearl returned it. Scott was a bit more hesitant, but his eyes lit up when he recognized Jimmy. “Hey!” he called back. A bolt of joy shot through Jimmy, but he ignored it. He and Scott couldn’t ally this round. He didn’t want to risk another incarnation of Dogwarts deciding the two of them were a threat.

“How are you?” Pearl asked, smile bright and enthusiastic. Scott was smiling too, the one he reserved just for Jimmy. Jimmy squashed down the butterflies in his stomach. He couldn’t think of Scott like that. Not anymore.

“Pretty good,” Jimmy replied, nonchalantly. “Were you guys able to find shelter last night?” Pearl nodded. “I actually found something else this morning,” Scott said, reaching behind his ear. It was just now that Jimmy noticed the crown tucked over Scott’s hair. He wondered where it had come from. He certainly hadn’t had it on Empires.

“Figured you’d like it,” Scott continued, proffering something to Jimmy. It was a bright red poppy. A pang of longing shot through Jimmy’s heart. He ignored it. Scott’s expression fell slightly when he saw that Jimmy wasn’t taking the flower. “It’s a poppy!” he said. “Just like last time, when you-” “I know,” Jimmy said gently, cutting him off. He pushed Scott’s hand down, and Scott’s smile fell. “I know, Scott. But I can’t do this. Not again.” “But-but...” Scott protested.

“New round, new rules,” Jimmy said sadly. “Besides I can’t...I can’t risk losing you again. And I don’t want you to have to lose me. We’re both on our yellow lives. I can’t go through that again. And it’s not fair to ask you to.” He hesitated for a moment, but then he gathered himself and marched past Scott and Pearl.

Scott watched him go, staring dumbly at Jimmy’s retreating form, hand curled tightly around the poppy. Then, his heart shattered.

[aishabellasbigblogofeverything]

I Just Had This Great Idea For Legally Blonde!

I would like to see a prequel showing Elle Woods’ life as a young girl. I’d like to see what she was interested in in life and how her schoolmates treated her. I imagine that Elle Woods has a desire to do fashion designing/merchandising as a career, which is a completely valid career, of course, but because it’s hyperfeminine, everyone underestimates her and chides her for her dream career. Indeed, what we saw in Legally Blonde isn’t new. Elle Woods is used to this. She’s been mocked and derided for being a hyperfeminine girl since an early age. She’s been called every name in the book: “dumb blonde” “vapid bimbo” “valley girl” “chihuahua brain” “Disney Princess” “Malibu Barbie” “playboy bunny” and much much more. But she’s learned to take them all as compliments and embraces them. She shows everyone that she can be both strong AND girly, and doesn’t let the misogynistic haters get her down. 

For a while, at least. Because the truth is, even someone as strong-willed and optimistic as Elle has her limits, and over time, she starts giving in to this pressure from her peers. She starts deriding her femininity, her girliness, her expression of womanhood. She starts trying to be less feminine, more tomboyish, more like one of the boys. Maybe if she wears less pink, maybe if she flips her hair less, maybe if she speaks in a lower-pitched voice, she’ll be taken more seriously. All she has to do is hide her true pink and sparkly self, comply, conform, maintain the masquerade and she’ll be fine. 

Until she meets Jacqueline. Jacqueline is amazing. When nobody around Elle will sit with her at lunch, Jacqueline will. Elle is in sixth grade. She doesn’t know how long she’s been keeping this up, but it must have been from before fourth grade. And she’s falling apart, she’s letting her girlier personality show. The boys don’t think she’s cool anymore. She sits alone. Did her “friends” exclude her or did she finally get tired of kissing up to people and sit alone of her own volition despite never truly connecting the dots? She doesn’t remember, just that she’s picking apathetically at the chicken nuggets with her fork, not even touching the fries or splitting open the ketchup, despite this being her favorite school lunch option. Until a young Black girl from the other class walks over to her, sitting alone, and asks if she can sit with her as she looks lonely. Elle meekly obliges. They introduce themselves, shake hands. They get talking. It turns out Jacqueline likes a lot of the things that Elle does, and vice versa. She says she has an interest in fashion, too! And it turns out that Elle has an interest in hair styling, too! They start clicking, they start laughing, and Elle feels the mask around her slowly cracking and breaking. The boys won’t talk to her now, but she doesn’t care anymore. She has Jacqueline and that’s all she needs. She compliments Jacqueline on her purple dress, Jacqueline compliments Elle on the lanyard on her jeans. Elle looks down at her boring and dreary clothes, wishing she hadn’t sold her soul to popularity, wishing she had that pop of color back in her life like she did before she decided that how others saw her was better than how she saw herself. And before long, The Real Elle Woods is back! 

It’s also not before long before Elle and Jacqueline become as thick as glue, Elle is always right behind her new best friend, and vice versa for her. Jacqueline is bright, brainy, bubbly, and a good speller. Her favorite color is purple. She doesn’t want to go to college--she wants to be a beautician. She is totally in control of and embraces her femininity. She cries at scary movies and thunder and lightning and makes lanyards with Elle. She and Elle do each others’ hair and makeup, and then wash it off before their mothers figure out what they’ve done, giggling and laughing to themselves. They talk endlessly over the phone in hushed whispers even when the lights are already out, and have inside jokes that only they know about. On opposite day Jacqueline is called Elle and Elle is called Jacqueline. They binge The Princess and the Frog every day. When a white boy calls Jacqueline the n-word and she punches his lights out and beats him up until he’s black and blue, she is sent to the principal’s office for detention, and Elle joins her willingly. They’ve been together through thick and thin. 

It’s not long before Elle develops romantic feelings for her female friend. But Jacqueline has lots of boys crushing on her, and Elle thinks she has no chance of wooing her affections. As it turns out, however, Jacqueline has no interest in boys whatsoever. Their first kiss is in the playground after school, when they should be getting home but they need to stay together for just a little bit longer. Eventually though, they drift apart, and by high school have begun maintaining a long distance relationship. But they’re having trouble working it out. And amicably decide to take a break and see other people. They go their seperate ways, temporarily. But come a few years later, into adulthood, they meet each other again. And suddenly they’re the same middle school girls giggling together about fashion and hair care in the cafeteria at lunch. Though Elle is married to Emmett and Jacqueline has her own wife as well, they still are happy to be back in each others’ lives, and back in each others’ social circles. They decide to have a reunion. 

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Yo, so I get annoyed at people treating ty Lee like a cutesy, innocent, harmless kid....but like she invented chi blocking (as far as we know I guess) and took down every major bender in the show at some point (except toph i think, but it's been a while since I watched atla so like maybe she did?) Anyways, I was wondering about your thoughts on her being massively underestimated purely because she is the only fire nation kid that smiles at people and doesn't make them shit themselves whilst doing so... and your fics seem to reflect her being a badass

Honestly it kind of bothers me too. But what bothers me more is when people make her out to be the dumb blonde trope. Like she's bubbly, mostly innocent, and can be naive sometimes. But I don't think that she's a ditz. She has her own special kind of intelligence. She has to in order to memorize where each and every chi point is. She also has an emotional/empath intelligence and I feel like that gets swept under the rug sometimes.

I very much feel like she falls under the people mistake kindness for weakness umbrella. She's cute and optimistic but she has these moments where she stands up for what she believes in which is a powerfulness in itself.

I think that TyLee is the type to be docile at times but fight when it counts/actually matters. And when she does she is very much a force to be reckoned with. Katara is one of the strongest waterbenders and she has expressed being afraid of TyLee's abilities. So it's a shame to see them downplayed.

[sourwolphs]

Like an Animal - Bucky x Reader (4/8)

Read on Ao3 (for better interface + formatting)

Summary: Reader is an enhanced Omega kidnapped by Hydra and trapped in a cell with Alpha Bucky Barnes. Tags: A/B/O, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Warnings: Rated M 

Wanda used our winding trip from the medical bay all the way to the residential quarters to point out all the amenities in the massive Avenger compound. There was a gym packed with state-of-the-art equipment, a training room with a boxing ring and floor-to-ceiling padding, a lap pool, steel-and-glass conference rooms and office spaces, and even vibranium-reinforced practice rooms for enhanced members of the team. In the upper levels, we passed through the sprawling main kitchen, a lounge packed with plush red couches and a bar stocked with top-shelf alcohol, and a dark and cozy movie room with a massive projector screen.

I was still feeling weak and tired post-heat, and seeing the Avengers compound felt surreal, like I was walking through a dream. All those years I’d spent running… from what? From this? From resources? From a pack? From a chance to make a difference?

Maybe I was crazy to already feel like I belonged here, that I could use the abilities I never asked for to do good in the world, but walking through the compound with Wanda felt… right. I felt like I was coming home.

The only piece missing was him, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore the insistent tug in my chest seeking out Alpha.

Wanda showed me up to my floor, one level above the other residential floor with the common kitchen and lounge area. The pack’s living quarters were built like an apartment complex with hallways full of doors— some with name tags and goofy indicators of the inhabitants (like a cardboard cutout of Captain America with a Sharpie heart drawn on his face outside of a door marked “Wilson” and a fuzzy Halloween doormat covered in orange spiders outside of “Romanoff”).

“Well, here you are,” Wanda said. We stopped in front of a door at the end of the second hallway. Inside was a newly renovated one-bedroom apartment, complete with a kitchenette, living area, bathroom and closet. It was cozy and fully-stocked— sheets, towels, pillows, even pantry staples— and had clearly been decorated by someone with an eye for interior design. I wondered if Tony’s Omega had been in charge of it.

I surprised myself when I felt a tear slip down my cheek, emotions bubbling up inside my chest. I’d spent so many years living in dumps, sleeping on couches and in bathtubs, even on wooden pallets in the back of a restaurant where I had worked for six months, when I could have just listened to that agent and found my way here.

Wanda must have caught the sadness, anger, gratitude and guilt swirling in my scent because she wordlessly leaned in for a hug, her arms warm and firm around me. “You will always be welcome here,” she murmured. I took a deep, soothing inhale of her cinnamon sugar scent and immediately felt my heightened emotions calm— a courtesy of her comforting designation.

After Wanda left me to relax and settle in, I showered and changed into a plain set of loungewear I found in the dresser, climbing into the freshly made bed for a nap and some time to think.

I’d spent the bulk of my adult life running from difficult choices and responsibilities, preferring to scrape by under the radar, hiding both my abilities and my designation. Even just a few days ago, I probably would have given Wanda the slip and found my way to another state to start over. But something had changed in me. I wanted to try.

Maybe it was the fact that the threats the red-haired agent had warned me of had finally become a reality in that Hydra cell.

Or maybe it had something to do with him.

The pack left me alone for a few hours, which I spent getting in a quick power nap before snooping through the apartment, finding good hiding spots and plotting emergency escape routes— because old habits die hard.

I had my head in the closet, groping at a panel in the wall that could either be an air duct or a hidden electrical control panel, when someone knocked softly. As I approached the door, I couldn’t help but take in a deep breath— hoping for that smoky cedar scent on the other side— only to be met with a smooth and neutral Beta blend that was surprisingly familiar.

On the other side of the door stood the red-haired agent.

Last time I’d seen her, there had still been hints of blonde growing out at the ends of her hair. Now, it was cut in a short bob at her jawline, the deep red at her roots running solid through the strands. She smelled like rosewater and ozone— a garden before the rain.

“It’s you,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying. She smirked at me, pouting her lips, and I couldn’t help but feel remorseful. I hadn’t been the nicest when she’d found me last. My escape had involved quite a lot of…. frozen body parts.

“Hi, Y/L/N,” she said. “You’re looking a little less frosty than the last time I saw you.”

I laughed nervously, hoping she wasn’t here to give me a dressing down. I’d only frozen her limbs a little bit back at Fifth Street. Besides, I wasn’t in any state for a brawl, especially with my connection to my abilities still weak post-heat— not to mention the lingering effects of the Terrigen Crystal restraints. “Do you want to… come in?” I asked, opening the door wider.

The Beta nodded and slipped through the door, gaze sweeping around the room before she plopped onto a sectional in the living room. She was graceful and lithe, clad in all-black athleisure, hair pulled back behind her head in a delicate french braid.

“I should probably introduce myse—“

“Did you braid my hair for me?” I interrupted.

She smiled and laughed a little, looking surprised. “You noticed?” She asked, patting the braid at the back of her own head. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake up when I did it, actually. Wanda and I didn’t want you to come to and think you were back in that cell. We figured cleaning you up a bit in the medbay would help.”

I swallowed down the unexpected lump forming in my throat. No one had cared for me like that since my Mom had passed. “Thank you,” I choked out— but it came out more like a whisper. I took a seat on the edge of the couch across from her.

“It was nothing,” she said with a smile. “Anyway— Let me re-introduce myself. I’m Agent Natasha Romanoff, but you can call me Nat. Everyone does. I think we got off on the wrong foot last time we met,” she said with a smirk.

“I’m sorry… I—“ I dropped my head into my hands in embarrassment, groaning.

“Don’t apologize! I cornered you. I shouldn’t have. Besides, I deserved it for underestimating your… tenacity,” she winked. “I’m here to see how you’re holding up. And to fill you in on what you missed while you were out, and what we know so far.”

I nodded, urging her to continue.

“We found you and Bucky at a defunct Hydra base in Paraguay,” she began. My breath hitched at the mention of his name. “We also found a bunch of illegal rut and heat-inducing drugs, and obstetrics equipment, all of which we confiscated for analysis. When we found you, you were deep into a sympathy heat and Bucky was barely hanging on through his rut, but we managed to get you both to safety without incident.”

I was speechless. I knew Hydra was evil. They were the bogeymen of children’s nightmares when I was growing up, the big bad evil lurking just beneath the surface. But what were they planning…. And why me?

“You’re probably wondering why it was you,” Nat said, reading my mind. “We don’t know either. But like I said the last time we met… There are a lot of evil people out there who would love to get their hands on your abilities.”

“When you first came to me, that warning didn’t seem real,” I admitted. “It does now.”

Nat nodded. “And the offer I made to you back then still stands. You’re a damn strong woman to have made it through what you did, and the world needs more people like you protecting it. Bucky told us how you stood up to that Hydra douchebag.”

“Aw, shucks,” I said, trying to play it cool through the heat rising in my cheeks and the swoop of excitement in my stomach. They really wanted me here. “I can’t imagine why you’d want to keep me around, but if I’m being honest, I don’t really feel particularly safe leaving. At least not now.”

“Understandable,” she added. “Take your time getting settled in. We don’t run on any formal schedule around here— most of the pack either lives here or spends weekdays here. You’re welcome to use any of the facilities— except I don’t recommend poking around in Stark’s lab.”

We both laughed, and Nat stood, making her way back out of my new living space. “Oh— One more thing before I leave you alone,” she said, spinning gracefully on her heels. “Wanda asked me to tell you that if you want someone to train with, she’s happy to help.”

——-

I’d never had a pack. Not since my parents, anyway— but the three of us could hardly be considered one, with how isolated we were. So it genuinely surprised me how quickly and effortlessly I fit in at the compound.

It took a few days to find my footing. I spent long hours mapping out the maze of buildings, hallways and facilities from one edge of the campus to the other. But slowly, I started to carve out a routine with the people who lived here.

It was Sam who became my friend first. We met one morning in the common area kitchen, as I awkwardly buttered a slice of toast, planning to take it back to my room to eat alone. He’d just gotten back from a run, sweat sticking his shirt to his chest, making his normally neutral Beta scent strong and tropical. It reminded me of the beach— salty ocean breezes, lemon and lime. He was leaning against the counter, swigging down orange juice straight from the carton, and giving me an amused look. Before I could retreat to my room, he coaxed me to the countertop to keep him company while he ate.

We hit it off almost immediately, discovering everything we had in common. We both loved 60s music, enjoyed running in the mornings, and considered breakfast our favorite meal of the day. From that morning on, we made it a routine to cook elaborate egg, bacon and pancake breakfasts, the scent of which reliably drew pack members out of their rooms with bleary eyes and morning breath.

Soon, our morning breakfasts turned into pre-breakfast runs. I quickly learned that my abilities increased my stamina more than I had previously known, as I outpaced Sam most days. After 10 miles left him sweat-soaked and gasping for breath, I felt like I had the energy for another 20.

A week after our heart-to-heart in my apartment, I stumbled upon Natasha’s secret training room, located a few doors down from the gym and boxing ring and devised to look like a storage closet from the outside. It was a small, low-lit room with mirrors on the walls and a ballet bar running down the width. She was practicing pointe, hair tied back in a severe bun. I’d never learned to dance, but I liked to share space with her while she trained, marveling at the power and grace in her form. I started bringing a yoga mat there in the early afternoon when I knew I could find her there. I’d always enjoyed yoga— needed it, even. The grounding and meditation aspects of the practice helped me locate the source of the strange energy within me and wrangle it under control. With my body distracted by challenging physical forms, my mind was free to connect with that icy burn in my chest, memorizing how it channeled its way through my body.

I was overjoyed at my blossoming friendships with the two Betas, but at the end of the day, I found myself craving time with another Omega. Luckily, I had Wanda in my corner right from the jump. It’s common for pack Omegas to stick together, serving as sources of comfort and support to one another without any strings attached, and Wanda was generous with both. We’d spend the early evenings in comfortable silence, reading or watching 80s sitcoms. Some days, we’d even venture into the the reinforced training rooms so I could test out the strength of my abilities under supervision. Wanda never parted ways with me without a soothing hug, and I began to wonder if she needed them just as much as I did. Natasha had told me she was bonded, but I could never smell her mate on her, nor had I met him yet.

I ran into Steve last, on a Saturday afternoon. According to Nat, he’d been out on missions for my first week, which is why I hadn’t met him yet. I was outside, wandering the paths of the Avengers campus and soaking up the early spring sunshine.

Feeling uncharacteristically safe, I turned my head up towards the blue sky as I walked— which meant that I literally ran straight into Captain America. He was still suited up in navy tactical gear, dirt smudged across his cheek and in his golden hair, vibranium shield strapped to his back.

“Woah there,” he said, reaching out to steady me with just the tips of his fingers as I ricocheted off his chest.

I was immediately hit with his warm and inviting scent, like hot summer sunshine and old books. It felt strangely familiar and… comforting. He was huge, as most Alphas are, but his kind, open face and gentle scent felt to me more like that of a Beta or an Omega.

“S-Sorry,” I sputtered, taking a step back. His hands dropped to his sides. “Wasn’t looking where I was going— clearly”

“Steve Rogers,” he said with a smile, holding out his hand to shake.

I laughed, despite my initial nervousness. “Yeah, I know. Nice to meet you Captain America, I’m Y/N.”

Was that a… blush? Steve looked bashful. “Actually, we’ve already met, but I don’t think you remember. Last week. I…carried you out of that Hydra base.”

My eyes widened. That must be why I’d unconsciously associated his scent with safety.

Now it was my turn to blush— he’d carried me out while I was in heat. Sobbing, begging for my Alpha, slick running down my legs…

“Nat didn’t tell me that part,” I said quickly. “But thank you. Really. I owe you.”

He shook his head with a smile. “Happy to help.”    

From that day on, Steve started accompanying Sam and I on our runs in the morning, much to Sam’s chagrin. Not even I could keep up with Steve’s superhuman stamina, but teaming up on Sam to outrace him made us laugh until our sides were in stitches.

After I’d accidentally let it slip that the only major movie franchises I’d watched were Star Wars and Toy Story, Sam took it upon himself to “educate” me on the best action movies of the 90s and 2000s every evening. In just a few weeks, we tore through Mortal Kombat, Point Break, Die Hard, the Matrix trilogy, and the Mission Impossible series. Steve would often join us, cramming his huge body onto the compact couches in the movie room. Even Natasha found time at the end of the day to curl up with us, critiquing the outlandish hand-to-hand combat moves on the projector screen and throwing popcorn every time the choreography offended her expert sensibilities.

Though I felt closest and most comfortable with Sam, Wanda, Nat and Steve, I slowly got to know the other pack members as well. Stark, who spent most of his time tinkering in his lab, sent updates to me through FRIDAY on any new information their analysis had uncovered from the confiscated Hydra equipment. Dr. Banner, a shy Omega who smelled peculiarly like sage and burnt caramel, was helping Stark analyze the equipment, and would often share updates as well. Pepper, Stark’s Omega, was a human ray of sunshine. She checked on me more than a few times, always asking how the facilities were treating me and urging me to ask for anything I needed.

Altogether, my first three weeks with the pack were a dream come true. But as much as I loved every minute of my new life here, there was something— rather, someone— missing.

My first day waking up at the compound, I’d half expected Bucky to come find me. After all, we’d been through something terrible together. Part of me stupidly believed he’d swoop in to comfort me, apologize for not being by my bedside when I woke up and reassure me that everything was going to be fine. But that was just a silly fantasy concocted by my Omega hindbrain. He never showed. And nobody seemed to be talking about him, either— at least not to me.

After Wanda had reacted so strangely to my questions about his whereabouts when I woke up, I held back from asking any follow-up questions of Sam, Nat or Steve. I’d never had an Alpha in my life. My parents had been Betas. I didn’t know if it was normal for an Omega to feel this connected, this obsessive. And frankly, I didn’t want to be weird.

After a few weeks, I started to grow used to my Omega brain thinking about him by default— his delicious scent, his icy blue eyes, the feel of his fingers gently carding through my hair, the pressure of his teeth on my neck. More often than not, I found myself unconsciously scenting different rooms in the compound, seeking out that cedar smell before I entered. But I never caught it.

I struggled to sleep at night. After feeling it once, unlike anything I’d experienced before, my body viscerally craved the comfort of his Alpha purr. The craving was so strong that sometimes I couldn’t rest for hours— tossing and turning, piling pillows and blankets on the bed to imitate the safety of a nest. Running with Sam and Steve in the morning helped tire me out. So did practicing yoga with Nat, and exhausting my abilities in the training room with Wanda. But there was always something missing. And try as I might, I couldn’t shake it.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think that I was experiencing bond withdrawal. But without a mating bite, that explanation was impossible.

————

If Bucky hadn’t been tortured by Hydra for 70 years, he would say that this was the worst pain he’d ever experienced. It didn’t compare to having his brain scrambled by electricity, but it was damn close.

After the quinjet had landed at base after the rescue, and Sam had scooped up Y/N to ferry her to the medbay, Bucky pulled Steve aside on the landing strip, tearing his eyes away from Sam’s back retreating into the compound.

“I think it would be best if I… went away for a while,” Bucky said, unable to make eye contact with his best friend. He studied Steve’s boots, dirt-smudged and scuffed from combat.

“Buck, I don’t like where your head’s at,” Steve said gently, placing a grounding hand on his shoulder. “You just got dosed up on synthetic rut and locked up with an Omega in heat for some messed up…forced breeding crap. It’s not like you did anything wrong. This isn’t on you.”

Bucky bit his tongue, hard. That’s where Steve was wrong. He had done something wrong— and even if he hadn’t succumbed to what Hydra wanted from him, he still needed to keep himself away from Y/N. This close, he could still smell traces of the Omega’s heat lingering on Steve. Even without rut, it was turning his inner Alpha feral with want.

“Just a few weeks, is all. Make sure she’s okay?” Bucky said, knowing he didn’t have to ask. The pack would take care of her. “She’s strong— she told those Hydra agents to fuck off— but she shouldn’t have to be. Not after this.”

Steve gave him his signature earnest look, chewing his lower lip with concern, before sighing out his agreement.

Bucky had spent the past few weeks in a cramped studio apartment the pack kept for emergencies in Brooklyn. He’d hardly left the space, sleeping fitful hours in the night, interrupted by nightmares. He’d paced the floor in front of the only window so many times in his agitation that he thought he was starting to see grooves in the wood.

At all hours of the day, he ached for her scent, still vivid in his Alpha hindbrain— sharp and crisp as snow but just as sugary sweet as peppermint. Embarrassingly, he’d taken to snacking on a crumbling jar of mints he’d found in the back of the pantry, letting the artificial scent soothe his racing thoughts as they melted on his tongue. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it helped— especially since his whole body felt like it was prickling with need nonstop, chest cracking open, aching for her touch. His Alpha wrestled with his conscious brain to remember every small detail of her, from the gentle curve of her waist to her soft lips, the feeling of her hair between his fingertips, her unbelievable scent.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was going through fucking bond withdrawal. With an Omega he’d spent maybe seven hours with.

If Bucky’d had it his way, he would have stayed holed up in the apartment until this… thing had run its course. But after three weeks, Steve had finally had enough of his self-isolating nonsense, and had showed up at the door of the apartment to drag Bucky back with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Bucky could tell his best friend didn’t know exactly why he was so opposed to returning home, though he figured Steve had an inkling of what was going on just from the lingering scent of suffering and guilt that had soaked into the peeling wallpaper of the studio.

“Everything’s fine, Buck. She’s settling in great— you’ll see. Wanda, Sam and Nat love her,” he said reassuringly, the unspoken I do, too hung in the air between them. Even with three weeks of distance between them, Bucky still couldn’t forgive himself for not being the Alpha to rescue her from that cell, for being so caught up in his own urges that he couldn’t be the hero that Steve was.

Bucky spent the majority of the car ride back to the compound stewing in self-hatred and anxiety, wondering if his return would be what tipped Y/N over the edge, sending her back into hiding. Then it would be undeniably his fault that she left. His fault that she was taken from everyone in the pack. Mercifully, Steve said nothing about his inner turmoil stinking up the car, only rolling down the window a crack to let in the cool spring air.

Even after all that time spent stewing in his thoughts, Bucky still wasn’t prepared to see her the minute he got back to the compound.

When he stepped out of the elevator on his floor, duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, he was immediately hit with three scents at once— a hot spike of concern from Steve, a dose of Nat’s joyful rosewater smell, and her. Peppermint. This time sweet, happy and warm like a cup of mint tea.

The two women were laughing together, lounging on the plush red couches of the living space, but their laughter cut off sharply as the ding of the elevator sounded. Bucky froze like a deer in headlights as they both turned to look his way.

Time seemed to slow down as their eyes connected. His eyes frantically scanned her face and body for evidence of injury, documenting the healthy glow in her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, her soft hair pulled back in one of Nat’s french braids. She looked… happy. Healthy. Beautiful.

Unconsciously, he felt his hackles raise when he noticed Nat’s hand circled around Y/N’s ankle where it was stretched out towards her lap.

“Hey Buck, long time no see,” Nat said with an uncharacteristic gentleness, shaking him out of his stupor. Both women were giving him a concerned look, now, the smiles drifting off of their faces.

Rather than say or do anything he regretted, Bucky elected not to say or do anything at all. Coward, his Alpha snarled at him as he strode down the hallway to his bedroom. Go back there and claim your Omega.

“Buck!” Steve called after him, concern coloring his tone. “Bucky!”

But Bucky ignored him, holding his breath to avoid her scent until his apartment door was shut tight behind his back.

[the-bee-graveyard]

The Fine Line: Chapter Three

Other Chapters

Summary: The Gladers (+Brenda, and Group B members) try to make up for the grave mistake made during their plans by throwing a party. Vince can be bribed with cookies. Brenda does not like party games. Jorge ships Newtmas.  Thomas makes a not shocking realization. Everyone wants to slap Newt and Thomas.

Sorry if there are any grammatical/spelling errors I proofread but that’s quite ineffective.

I dedicate this chapter to @madmathis18, sorry about your paper Madalynne

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added): @izzymultifan

Chapter Three: The Fine Line Between Friends and Lovers

Part One: Minho’s POV

Say they screwed up would be an understatement. They didn’t screw anything up. Screwing something up implies that it can be salvaged.

And Minho had no clue how the hell they could possibly salvage this.

“How the hell can four people be so stupid?” Sonya ranted, they sat in their circle going over their failure. The four people she spoke of were Minho, Gally, Newt, and Thomas. Newt and Thomas for not realizing they were madly in love with each other, and Minho and Gally for making everything worse.

But Minho had a new plan, a new plan to replace their old plan, which now laid in metaphorically shreds scattered across the beach on the safe haven.

“Shut up Sonya, I have a plan,” Minho said. Sonya, Frypan, Harriet, and Brenda all groaned, which Minho found ridiculous since he always had flawless plans. He glared at them before he spoke again. “Phase one: Minho goes and tell’s Newt he’s absolutely not attracted to him. Phase two: we convince Vince to let us throw a party tomorrow night. Phase three-”

“Phase three of what?” A voice interrupted. Minho spun his head around to see Jorge standing there. 

“Nothing,” Minho replied.

“We’re trying to get Newt and Thomas together,” Frypan said at the same time.

“May I join?” Jorge asked.

“Of course,” Minho said. Jorge sat down in between Brenda and Teresa, who weren’t sitting as far apart as they were at the last meeting but still pretty far apart. “Phase three: we start up a wild game of truth or dare-”

“Absolutely not,” Gally interjected, Frypan had opened his mouth to protest to.  They used to play truth or dare in the glade, and the games always got so out of hand Alby had to shut them down. Once Gally had been dared to bathe in his own drinks, and another time Frypan had been dared to eat two sticks of butter.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Teresa said. Minho almost said something mean, but he bit his tongue. He really wanted to try to get along with Teresa for Thomas’s sake, even if he still sort of hated her guts. “We won’t give anyone else anything too extreme, just stuff to sell the game to Newt and Thomas before we attack them with dares.”

“I like the way you think Teresa,” Harriet said. “So how do we get Vince on board?”

“I have an idea for this,” Jorge spoke up. “How quickly can you whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies Frypan?”

-Time Gap, an hour-

“Heyyyyy Vince,” Minho said cheerily, Sonya and Frypan at his sides. They were all there for a reason: Frypan because he made the cookies, Sonya because she insisted on coming and Minho was too afraid of her and her girlfriend to say no, and because they all agreed that Minho had the least shame out of all of them and could easily bribe a resistance leader with cookies.

“Oh god,” Vince muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How can I help you three?” 

“We just wanted to let you know Frypan just finished making a batch of chocolate chip cookies,” Minho said, holding the plate of cookies so Vince could smell them. Their leader reached for a cookie but Sonya slapped his hand before he took one.

“They come with conditions,” Sonya snapped. 

“There it is,” Vince sighed. “What?”

“We want a party tonight. On the beach. We’ll plan everything, all you have to do is sit back, relax, and eat your cookies,” Minho said. The look on Vince’s face said no, but Minho didn’t take no for an answer, escipecally not when his friend’s whole relationship rely on this party. They didn’t call Minho cupid for nothing (he could hear Sonya’s voice in his head saying no one called him that, but Sonya’s voice could shove off). He held the plate closer to Vince’s face, and he saw the mans face soften.

“Fine,” Vince grumbled, snatching a cookie from the plate. “If anyone dies it’s on you.” Sonya and Minho high fived.

Part Two: Teresa’s POV

They sat in another circle, but this time Jorge was missing and Newt and Thomas filled his place (sitting quite close to each other if Teresa did say so herself, which she did). Teresa took a sip of Minho’s special drink.

“So may I ask why we’re gathered here?” Newt asked Minho.

“We’re going to have a nice fun game of truth or dare,” Minho announced. To say Newt looked horrified would be an understatement.

“There’s no buggin’ way I’m playing, nope,” Newt said, his arms crossed and his expression firm.

“Please Newt, it’ll be fun,” Thomas pleaded, giving the blonde boy puppy dog eyes. Newt sighed, clearly giving in.

“Fine,” Newt grumbled.

“Great,” Gally said. “I’ll go first. Minho, truth or dare?” Teresa already knew how this first part would play out, they’d planned it out.

“Truth,” Minho said.

“Is it true that you’ve got a thing for Newt?” Gally asked.

“Nope, I’ve only got eyes for you babe,” Minho said, before leaning in and kissed Gally, resulting in a gagging noise from Brenda (Minho flipped her off).

“If you’re so eager to move on, Brenda, truth or dare?” Minho asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Teresa didn’t expect to get heated this early in the game, but then again, she should never underestimate Minho and his competitive agenda. 

“Dare,” Brenda said, leaning back.

“I dare you to kiss Teresa,” Minho announced. Teresa swore the words echoed off of something. Everyone quickly turned to Brenda, waiting to see her reaction. 

Brenda said nothing, grabbing Teresa and kissing her quickly before pulling away, the sudden movement shocking Teresa. Her lips immediately felt cold once Brenda pulled away.

“Thomas, truth or dare?” Brenda said as if nothing had ever happened. Teresa couldn’t tell if she wanted Brenda to act like nothing happened, or she wanted her to be mad, or what. 

Teresa used to think she knew everything.

But if she knew everything then why didn’t she know why she wanted to kiss a girl who hated her so much again?

Part Three: Thomas’s POV

Thirty minutes later Thomas and Newt had swapped shirts, Aris was soaked from running in the ocean, Sonya and Harriet were “glued” to each other, and Minho had to end every sentence with “bubbles”. 

“Thomas, truth or dare,” Harriet said. 

“Truth,” Thomas said. His last dare was to go over to the bonfire and compliment Vince’s shoes, so he decided he’d take a break from dare’s for a little bit. 

“Who’s the most attractive person in this circle?” It wasn’t a hard decision, even though it should be. They were all very attractive individuals, but Newt outshined them all with his fluffy blonde hair and deep brown eyes Thomas could and would drown in.There there was his smile and his hands and the way he never let anything get him down.

And most importantly, the way he said Tommy. He could never say the words with anything but affection, even if he was pissed, and Thomas loved it.

Then it hit him. Like a brick.

Thomas loved Newt. Like, loved loved Newt.

Shoot.

“Earth to Thomas, you gonna answer or not?” 

“Oh yeah, Newt,” Thomas said. Newt grinned and patted Thomas on the back. “Minho, truth or dare?”

“Dare. Bubbles,” Minho said.

“I dare you to come up with a compliment for everyone in this circle.” Minho mumbled something under his breath and then began unenthusiastically.

“Frypan, you can cook like a saint. Brenda, you have the second best hair, besides me of course. Bubbles. Harriet, you’re absolutely terrifying. Bubbles.  Sonya, you’re a great plotting buddy. Bubbles. Aris, I don’t think you’re a creepy vent-kid anymore. Bubbles. Teresa, you have nice eyes. Bubbles. Thomas, you’re not the ugliest shank I’ve ever met. Bubbles. Newt, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. Bubbles. Gally, you’re the second hottest person here, besides me of course. Bubbles. Newt, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Newt said. He’d only did one dare, which resulted Thomas wearing a shirt too tight and Newt wearing a loose shirt that looked good on him, everything looked good on him.

“Have you ever been in love with anyone in this circle? Bubbles.” Thomas followed Newt’s gaze as it landed on every single one of them, before his eyes met Thomas’s and lingered longer than they did on everyone else.

“Yes,” Newt said, looking away from Thomas, blushing. Thomas may be going out on a limb, but maybe, just maybe, there was a one in a million chance that Newt returned a small amount of his feelings?

“Really, who is it? Bubbles.”

“No, no, no,” Newt teased. “One question per turn.” Thomas’s heart sank, he wanted to know too. But he couldn't say that, then they’d all knew Thomas wanted to know and then they'd figure out he was utterly and hopelessly in love with Newt and always had been.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

TUA MEAN GIRLS AU

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the film) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, bribery, immoral deals, bullying, homophobia, outing, transphobia, violence, abortion, teen pregnancy, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Regina) Five is the king of this school, and he has no plans to give up that position. He needs it to protect his people, as few and far between as they are, and himself, if he’s honest - he’s a trans and ace-aro kid in platonic love with the health class mannequin who he calls Dolores. Ruling with fear is basically all he can do. While he’s mean, you’ll soon realize that everything he says is more of a blunt observation that will improve your life if you just heed his advice. He doesn’t respect almost anybody - not the jocks, theatre geeks, nerds, cheerleaders, band kids - no one. However, if he does respect you, you have his trust and protection. And as a thirteen-year-old genius who only takes advice from always-slightly-drunk art teacher Agnes, his protection is pretty damn valuable: the last person who tried to hurt one of his people will never walk again. Leonard Peabody - he assaulted Vanya, and he paid. Five beat him to the point of hospitalization without getting a single speck of blood or bruise on himself, and Leonard’s the one who walked away in handcuffs. Do not fuck with any of Five’s people, or you have to fuck with Five. And you do not want to fuck with Five.

(Gretchen) Vanya is quiet and subdued, to the point where people question how she’s a part of the school’s most popular trio. If you talk to her for long enough though, it becomes clear: she knows any and everybody’s secrets. She writes for the school paper, and is known to write the stories her subjects don’t want anyone else to find out about. Like Diego, who she outed as bisexual last year to throw people off the trail of her own secret relationship with Sissy, earning her an ex-girlfriend and an ex-friend. She’s been trying to win Diego’s forgiveness ever since, but he won’t talk to her, returning every single one of her letters and gifts. (He’s blocked her number and all of her socials, which she only created to talk to him anyway.) She doesn’t know why Five keeps her around - Klaus loves to gossip, but Five never seems to want any of her secrets. She’s pleasantly surprised to find out that he apparently actually enjoys her company. (What?)

(Karen) Klaus is a fucking mess. He plays the dumb blonde (well, brunette) despite being a genius in his own right, even if he’s not at Five’s level. (To be fair, he’s pretty sure no one is.) He’s a drag queen on the weekends, a hangover from his time in the mafia gang, which he joined with his boyfriend Dave for six months after running away from home. Dave died in a gunfight, and Klaus has been fucked up (well, more than usual) ever since. Anorexia, PTSD, anxiety, depression, self-harm, suicidal ideation, the works. But as lonely as he is, addicted to a fuckton of hard drugs and liquors to cope, he’s still an alluring, aloof, and bubbly popular girl, wearing pink skirts and glittery heels and leather corset crop tops to school every day. No matter how much his father Reginald beats him for it, he keeps being himself, because he’s brave and because even if Reginald hates him, someone far more important loves him… Diego. Diego, who Klaus has kissed under a million stars and in the lollipop shop down the road and on top of a cafeteria table. Diego, who Klaus has chased through the rain and into the street without rest or hesitation. Diego, whose words and promises and scribbles are immortalized on Klaus’ skin for all to see. Diego, who Klaus will love no matter how much bigotry they encounter or dickwads they’re beat up by or miles they put between them. Diego, Klaus’ ex-boyfriend.

(Cady) Allison is the new girl, and she has plans for the advantage being underestimated has brought her. She challenges Five on her first day there, earning his respect, and joins his group at the urgings of Klaus and Vanya, who like her company. A fashion queen, she acts as though she’s unfazed by any and everything, but nobody knows her true heartbreak - she still writes letters to a girl back home. Allison was expelled from her Christian private school for falling in love with a girl named Natalie, who she kissed in janitors’ closets and who she beat up racist and homophobic blondes for. She has no tolerance for bullies, and yet becomes one under Five’s guidance - until she upends his reign as queen bee and signs her death warrant. (Though she later finds out he was more angry at her for stealing Klaus and Vanya’s affection than his popularity.) Now her only hope for happiness in her final days is Ray, the Shakespeare-quoting nerd in her English class… or Luther, the quiet dork in the Star Trek t-shirts in her math class. Fuck, she misses Natalie.

(Aaron) Luther is the posterboard for toxic masculinity. He’s on the football team but hates it, preferring his math tutoring and fantasy books to tackling drills. His bisexuality is his deepest secret - he once slept with Diego when they were drunk at a party after a football game, and he can’t get it out of his head. He keeps thinking about what might happen if somebody found out - would he be shunned like Diego? Trapped like Vanya? Plastic like Klaus? He doesn’t know. All he can do is continue to be kind and hope Allison loves him enough to love every part of him, beyond his good lucks and British accent and fucking Ray. So Luther stands up to Five, and pays the price. He compliments Klaus on his skirts, and pays the price. (Diego seems to simultaneously love and hate him for it, it’s confusing.) He holds the door open for Ben, and pays the price. He’s big enough to be scary, kind enough to be overlooked - but after that incident with Vanya, everyone looks at him like he’s a monster to be locked up. And soon enough, “star student” Luther, “teacher’s pet” Luther, “completely under the principal’s thumb and completely friendless and completely terrified of the world around him” Luther might just break under all that pressure.

(Janis) Diego is the school’s resident outcast and rebel punk - he wears skirts and fishnets and whatever the fuck he wants because if Klaus taught him anything when they were dating it was that gender is a construct and he looks hot in leather. They broke up when Diego was outed and Klaus chose to stay quiet when people started shunning Diego for it, but despite it all, Diego still loves him. He misses when they used to paint their nails together, because he has to paint his own now. They used to stare up at the stars together and fall asleep in the grass, curled up in each other, on the nights that Klaus would run away in terror from his dad and Diego would breathe with him and let him press his hand against his heart until Klaus’ panic died down. His heart still flutters when he sees Klaus smile around a lollipop… but he won’t take him back. He won’t. He just can’t forgive him. So instead, he talks to his mom about everything. He plays soccer with his sister Eudora. He paints shit while smoking weed with his best friend Lila. He thinks of Luther being scared of him and laughs. You know, he was almost in Allison’s position freshman year - Five loved him, and so did Klaus and Vanya, but then Vanya outed him to the whole school for no reason like a day before he and Klaus were going to come out together. And now they’re all estranged, and Diego has the strangest feeling that he’s lost his family, even though his mom is the only real family he’s ever known. But maybe he’s wrong. Because Klaus keeps sending him “anonymous” letters, leaving them on the porch and spilling secrets Diego never even would’ve imagined him having. But forgiveness is still a question - that is, until one day Diego gets a letter in a different handwriting: Five’s, telling him to man the fuck up and love Klaus before he kills himself trying to tear the stars down for Diego’s own personal pleasure, and suddenly, Diego is crying on his porch in the rain, missing a slender, sassy skeleton in his arms and a pink, bruised but unbroken heart in his chest.

(Damien) Ben is everyone’s favorite, and the kindest person in the world. He used to be Klaus’ best friend, but that ended when Ben got into an accident (there was a bus involved, that’s all you need to know) that landed him in a wheelchair and Klaus couldn’t deal with the mental pain it caused him. They still stare at each other longingly from across the cafeteria, but never say a word to each other, not even in class. But beyond Klaus, Ben has never had any friends, though he has a million aquaintances: he’s the only student in the school that everyone loves and respects. Five holds the door for him, though Ben can tell without having to ask that Five would rather nobody know that. He hangs out with Diego because he knows Diego’s lonely, even if he never wants to admit it. He advises Allison not to let anyone control her, telling her he knows Natalie from summer camp and that the deaf girl still loves her and reads every single one of her letters. He gives Vanya his lunch when she skips to cry in the gym after Diego yells at her, even though a part of him might think she deserves it sometimes. He plays sports with Luther after school and offers him an ear and some jokes about his problems, and a few touchdowns when he’s feeling good. He acts as Ray’s student consultant, because he knows how hard Ray works to treat him like an equal. He tutors Eudora in basically everything, but cuts study sessions short to play video games when he can tell she’s too stressed to think. He’s ace and pan and proud about it; he runs the school’s GSA; he defends Diego and uses the right pronouns for Lila when they’re alone without Lila ever having to him he’s trans. He bugs Reginald’s office in one of their many meetings and records enough conversations to get him fired when he tries to expel Five. And finally, karma rewards him - Klaus shows up at his house with a box of brownies he baked himself, all covered in smiley faces, and shoves them into Ben’s hands, shaking his head when Ben assumes they’re for Diego. I miss you, Klaus tells him, and Ben tugs him down into a kiss, pulling away with a stammered apology. I’m sorry, he blushes, and Klaus beams, leaping into his lap and hugging him closer than ever, the two of them queerplatonic partners from then on, forever linked by their fingers in the hallway. Happy. Finally.

Lila is the shy artsy kid who carries around one of those leather brown satchels that looks threatening but is really just code for “I think I’m too cool for a backpack so I stuff all my incorrect homework and favorite comic books into this sack of knockoff pig skin instead”. He’s covered in paint most of the time, and wears Alice in Wonderland combat boots and Sharpie-doodle-covered jeans and big black hoodies and soft grey beanies; he’s trans and hacked off his own hair until an undercut with choppy slash bangs and there’s pink streaks in them, of course, to match the bubblegum he’s always chewing. His nails are bitten and black, and his skin is decorated with tattoos that are almost exclusively Bo Burnham quotes, with the exception of Diego’s name right over his heart. (Diego has Lila’s name over his too - and Klaus’ and Eudora’s, though he’d never tell them that.) He gives his skirts to Klaus and gets along well enough with Five, them both being trans and all, and everyone else knows him as that kid who’ll spread rumors and steal things for bribes. It’s not like he can get in more trouble than he’s already in - he lives with his bigoted and abusive bitch of a mom. But Diego is his best friend - the one he shoots and stabs things with, the one whose ex-boyfriend he talks to because Diego will never admit to himself that he misses Klaus like he would his own lungs if they were torn from his chest, the one whose sister he’s in love with. Wait. Fuck. Oops.

Eudora is Diego’s sister, and the captain of the soccer team. She wears her red jersey with the white numbers to school every day, and is covered in tattoos of magical creatures, because she believes in all of them. She wishes she was a werewolf, and has dressed up as one every year for Halloween since she was ten. (And she’s let anyone dressed a werewolf give her a hickey just in case that turned her. It’s good to have all your bases covered.) She has a broken down pick-up truck named Travis-Trevor-Thomas-literally-any-other-T-name that she loves beyond belief, and drives Diego to and from school in it, though he grumbles about it every day. She eats lunch with him even though he insists he’s fine eating alone and wants her to go away, because she knows he’s lying, and she hangs around the GSA with him sometimes too. She’s lab partners with her brother’s “secret” ex-boyfriend, and is concerned by how quiet he is - she’s seen enough documetaries to know that quiet never means anything good. But unfortunately, she has her own academic drama to deal with - Hazel and Cha-Cha hate her for helping Klaus, and she hates them right back, leading to failing grades in both English and history no matter how brilliant her work is. Mostly, though, Eudora tries to get to know Lila - the pretty, angry, sarcastic emo boy she shares half her classes with, and flirts with every day despite how he ignores her. (ONLY because Lila still smiles and laughs every time she flirts with him, and Eudora knows from Diego that Lila thinks Eudora only flirts with him because it’s some sort of game of “if you get the guy who’s hard to get you win the hundred dollar bet” deal. Otherwise she would’ve backed off immediately because not doing so would be harassment.) Eventually, though, Eudora runs off-field in the middle of a soccer game and over to the stands to ask Lila to prom. Finally, she gets a yes - and, most importantly, a real smile, curled against her own mouth like a Cupid’s bow of promise.

Sissy is Vanya’s ex-girlfriend, and Fuckwad Carl’s current girlfriend. She hooked up with him after breaking up with Vanya, too drunk to even speak, and now her belly’s ballooning and her parents are gonna kick her out unless she marries him like a good Christian woman. And she really didn’t expect herself to tell them to fuck off for this one, but apparently lesbianism makes you do crazy things - so here she is, standing on Ray’s porch in the pouring rain and hoping for the best. She’s depressed and shows that by reading the Bronte sisters; Klaus opens the door for her and brings her notes with doodles all over them which makes her cry; she misses Vanya but hates her for what she did to Diego. And yet Vanya’s there when she goes to the abortion clinic, smiling and joking and holding her hand like always. One day she’ll have a baby and she and Vanya will raise it right, but fuck - that baby sure as hell won’t be Carl’s. (Because fuck that guy.)

Ray is a humanitarian, so, naturally, he’s also the student council president. Five has never mistreated him, because everyone loves and respects Ray, even his critics. He nurtures Allison’s intelligence and encourages Vanya’s musical habits. He tutors Klaus in basically every subject but never talks down to him because he knows the kid’s a genius, just a bit spacey from all the drugs (and the ADHD, let’s be honest). He helps bring Luther out of his shell and takes Lila out shopping for boy clothes, all of which he pays for himself. He’s not scared or offended by Diego’s sarcasm or intensity, instead greeting him every day in class with a new dad joke. He treats Ben to intelligent conversation like an equal and doesn’t let Five be so harsh he’ll regret it later, though he still lets him say what he means and be himself. Everybody knows he’ll be the real President one day - even if for now he wears pajamas to school every day because, in his words, “Clothes are just too much fuckin’ work, man.” (There’s a possibility he may have still been high from hanging out with Klaus that day.)

The Handler is the evil physics teacher. (I don’t know why I said evil clearly all science teachers are evil.) (Yes this is coming from a place of aggression but hey at least I recognize that.) (Plus he deserves it. So fuck you.) (*sticks tongue out*) (Don’t you see how mature I am?) (I’m sorry I’m sorry back to your regularly scheduled programming -) She’s Lila’s mom, and continually and constantly misgenders him (and Five!) in class, not even because she hates trans people, just because she hates him (and Five!). Five always challenges her dictatorial rule, refusing to participate in solidarity with Klaus when she forces Klaus to sit out for wearing skirts. She keeps trying to flunk Ray too, the little bitch, but he just keeps doing so well that she can’t even come up with a falsely plausible reason to fail him! She’s been bribing Hazel and Cha-Cha to flunk certain students for years, unaware that Lila has been stealing from the Handler’s own purse to double those prices for those students to ace their classes. Everybody hates her, and for good reason. I hope she gets fired. (Shut up and let me project onto fictional characters, assholes.)

Reginald is the evil principal and Klaus’ abusive dad. He sends Klaus to school every day in a boys’ “uniform”, which Klaus has to change out of in the bathroom every day with borrowed clothes from Allison. (Anything he owns lives at her house; they have an agreement.) Once Klaus forgot to wash off his nail polish before Reginald came home and he broke all of Klaus’ fingers one by one. (Agnes wants to beat him into dust with a rolling pin.) Klaus stays at Diego’s house a lot, though Klaus refuses to come after they break up even though Diego makes it clear that his door will always be open. Five, therefore, is super protective of Klaus - every time he comes over, he’s super respectful when Klaus is in the room and then verbally rips Reginald to shreds as soon as he’s gone. He once stayed over for an impromptu sleepover when he noticed that Klaus was terrified-ly coming up with more and more ridiculous excuses for Five to stay and not leave him alone with Reginald, and as soon as Klaus was asleep, tiptoed around the house to set up bugs and cameras he got from Ben. He gives all of the evidence to Eudora to deliver to the police, who arrest Reginald and leave him to rot in a cement cell for the rest of his sorry fucking life while Klaus goes on to live Happily Ever After because fuck you and your stupid as shit traditionalism and inhumane experiments you lying scheming fuckwad of a psychopathic monster toad.

Hazel is the exhausted English teacher. His secret? He hates every book he teaches. Also he’s been taking bribes from the Handler and Lila because teachers don’t get paid enough in our society. Also his wife Agnes of twenty years divorced him a year ago for the whole bribery situation and he’s been sleeping in his car and using the school’s facilities to appear fine. Yeah, Hazel’s a mess. ANYWAY - Five is the only one who seems to know what’s going on, and Hazel would like to keep it that way. He knows Klaus is a genius with words but doesn’t know how to tell him that, and he knows Diego’s favorite book is Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen and has agreed to take that secret to his grave. (What, it’s a good book!) His class is the only place Diego and Klaus dare to interact, and he’s noticed - they often pair up for assignments and take to the floor or beanbags in the corner, often cuddling up and giggling over whatever book or assignment they’ve been sent off to read or do. Hazel also has another hopeless couple he teaches, Lila and Eudora - eventually Hazel starts leaving Lila’s sappy poems about Eudora on Eudora’s desk when she comes in for her own class (separate from Lila’s) because there is no other way those two idiots are getting together, let’s be honest. There’s just too much communication. Mostly Hazel misses his own wife, Agnes - but he’s been out of luck since he cashed it in with the science department, hot cocoa whore that he is.

Cha-Cha is the history teacher, and she has all the sass and dry sarcasm required for that job. She will beat a bitch up for telling her she can’t teach critical race theory, and plays Drunk History and Overly Sarcastic Productions in her class basically every day. She doesn’t believe in tests because if she did she’d have to grade them, and she likes animated kids’ movies and TV shows, especially Paw Patrol and Sofia the First. (Yes, obviously she’s single. She’s also ace-aro, so who the fuck cares.) She takes the Handler and Lila’s bribes because she runs an underground wrestling ring and would like to continue feeding her pitbulls gourmet food. The only kid she’s truly on edge with is Five, who often challenges her in debates - she can’t decide if she’s impressed or enraged about it. Whatever. School’s out, bitches.

Agnes is the art teacher who knows everything about everybody. All of her art is of donuts. (Of course.) She’s a damn good cook, especially of pizza - and donuts. (Naturally.) She always has munchkins available for her students - and donuts! (She always saves the chocolate glazed and jelly ones for Five and Klaus.) She likes to rap explicit beats in her car and play her music so loud it shakes the ground and you can hear it from miles away. (Obnoxious.) So she doesn’t restrict her kids’ projects because that’s not what art is about. (And because it would make her a hypocrite, obviously.) Sure, she divorced Hazel, but hey - she’s living her best life, and eventually he’ll come to his senses and come crawling back to her at three a.m. to badly lipsync a Justin Bieber song about missing her, and she’ll leap out the window into his giant hairy arms and kiss him on his ginormous teddy bear face. Because Agnes, at heart, is a hippy. (And that’s love, bitch.)

Grace is Diego and Eudora’s (and everybody’s!) mom. She goes out for drinks with Agnes on the weekends and to clubs with Pogo every Friday (the librarian/unofficial therapist who acts as her mouthpiece when Diego does something stupid and won’t listen to her advice, the moron). She’s kind to everyone, but takes no one’s bullshit: you hurt her kids, you die. Important Notice: Everybody Is Her Kid. So be kind to everyone, dickwads. Well - except Reginald. And the Handler. Both of whom she bitchslaps for mistreating her precious babies. She then takes in Klaus because Diego loves him, and Ben because Klaus loves him, and Lila because both Diego ad Eudora love him. The only reason she didn’t take in Sissy was because Ray already had her taken care of. She’s a literal angel sent from heaven and we should all be worshipping her like the goddess she is I’m sorry I don’t know when this became Grace Appreciation Day™ but hey I’m here for it and I have no regrets.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Ngl, the Nadia anons and fic have me in a Nadia mood. Can we get a fic where MC and Vivienne aren't dating, but Nadia thought they were and finds out they aren't, so she tries winning over MC, and MC is both wary and slightly charmed, despite the entire Poppy being exasperated, and finally agrees to a date? It could be a follow on from the other fic or it's own thing. (If you receive this ask twice please ignore the 2nd one, tumblr gave a bad request message for the first so idk if you got it)

Pairing with: “Can we have a Nadia stalking mc instead of Vivienne? Getting intrigued by the mc and then wanting her to join her instead“

...

Written by @an-awkward-ghost

“I’m a bit confused.”

The voice is firm, perhaps even a bit harsh, and it has Nadia instantly on edge. Were it not for the small, almost imperceptible hint of playfulness, the blond thief would have already brandished her knife. Instead, she just freezes there, wide eyed, letting the voice wash over her and awaken a torrent of feelings she had buried deep within her. Emotions only brought problems, only made her pick all the wrong options. She couldn’t trust something as fickle as that. She knew that. Well. At least she thought she knew that.

Yet here she is, eagerly spinning around after a moment’s hesitation, seeking the owner of that sweet, sweet, harsh voice.

It had only been a month, but Karina seemed to have changed drastically. Gone was the insecure little girl she had been, wrapped in Vivienne’s shadow. Now she stood strong and unflinching just a few meters away, shoulders thrown back in attempt to look taller, brown eyes calculating Nadia’s every movement like a predator. One wrong move, and it was over.

Nadia didn’t want to underestimate a woman like Karina ever again.

“You said you weren’t after Vivienne anymore… but here you are anyway.” Her eyes flickered up and down, her expression softening with a small, unconcerned smile. It didn’t look cocky, nor did it look happy. It was teasing, meant to irritate Nadia to her very core, but she found she couldn’t quite look at it without feeling butterflies rise. It was unfair. Nadia pursed her lips and looked away, and Karina continued. “What am I supposed to think?”

She felt like she had been put under a microscope, left there to be picked apart by the artist.

“It… was a coincidence?” She finally said, voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil of emotions she was experiencing.

Karina hummed. “Yeah, I don’t really believe in coincidences and that only leaves me with plenty of creepy alternatives. You might want to explain yourself.”

“I didn’t know you would come here next.” Nadia forced herself to meet her gaze, half-wishing she could just burn the butterflies in her stomach so she could actually concentrate, half-berating herself for not realizing where her true affections laid sooner. “I had planned to stay away from you – that’s why I decided to come here in the first place.”

“Sure. Awfully close to our next target, too. How convenient.”

Frustration could not begin to convey what Nadia was feeling right now. Hot-headed indignation, barely held at bay by the cold, murky feeling of rejection. Her hands closed into fists, then opened, then closed again in quick motions, as if she were trying to grasp her conflicting feelings and bury them even deeper.

“I didn’t even know you had a target here.” She spat at last, scowling. “Look, I won’t get in between your relationship with Vivienne anymore. I won’t even stay here, if it bothers you so much. I could probably pick the next flight to–”

“My relationship?”

“Yes, your– why are you looking at me like that?” It takes a few seconds. Nadia has never had so many conflicting feelings in her entire life. There’s the bubbly, blissful hope that lifts her spirits and spreads over her whole body like a blanket of pure joy, warm and fuzzy, but there’s also the sinking, bitter sensation of a misunderstanding. Of not reading the room correctly, despite that being Nadia’s forte. “You aren’t dating Vivienne.”

Karina’s smile seems a little less detached, bordering on genuine. “It’s true I had some interest in her at the beginning, but I quickly realized a relationship wasn’t the best choice. Hey, maybe we should start a club or something! God knows there’s enough people interested in Vivienne to get plenty of members.”

“Then… but she didn’t– you were jealous!”

“Yeah, I can’t deny that.” A sheepish shrug. “But in my defense, who wouldn’t be?”

Nadia takes a deep breath. “You were jealous.” She repeats, more to herself than to Karina. She’s trying to make this whole situation make sense. “Of Vivienne…? Because I was giving attention to her.”

A light blush that might be Nadia’s imagination appears on Karina’s face. “I think we might be getting off topic here. You, uh, you said you were going to leave?”

“I was, but there’s no way I’m doing that after this revelation.” After a month of aimlessly swimming through the situation, Nadia finally thinks she might have found her footing. She smirks. “You are interested in me.”

Karina looks her up and down again, wary. “Was. You know, before I found out you are an obsessive asshole.”

“Believe me, I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ll respect your boundaries.” She takes a few steps closer. Karina seems rooted in place, body angling towards the end of the alleyway they are in, but making no move to leave. “But I can’t let this chance slip me by.”

“Chance? So because you couldn’t get Vivienne, now you are after me?”

“Ah…” Nadia hesitates, all confidence wavering. The other woman narrows her eyes. “No. No, I…” The words were right there. Somehow, they wouldn’t come out.

“You…?

“It’s just. I didn’t– I…” She lets out a small grunt of frustration. “I wasn’t interested in her. I thought I was. Turns out she wasn’t the one that interested me at all.”

“But then… why did you…” A beat, and Karina’s eyes widen. “You were projecting your feelings onto her.”

“Yes. And now that it’s come out into the open that you are also interested-”

“Was. I was interested. Past tense. Nadia, I’m saying no. Can you respect that, please?”

Nadia pursed her lips, feeling her good mood dissipate. This was what had ruined her chances in the past, her near violent approach. She backed the subject of her interest to a corner where they would have no other choice but to pick her, because the alternative was even worse.

That’s not something she wanted for Karina. Whatever this affection was, it felt far more fragile and precious than any of her other obsessions.  Far more real. Worth treasuring. Nadia wasn’t sure she could even call this feeling ‘an obsession’.

She couldn’t force something like this. She didn’t want to.

“I understand.” She said. “And you have every right to say no, but I want you to give me a chance to prove that I’ve changed.” That had been mostly thanks to the sheer number of sleepless nights she had had, just thinking about everything. Her ideology and how it clashed with the Poppy’s, mainly. That was why she had scrapped the video her crew was working on, why she had put on hold the heists they had planned.

She knew she still had a long way to go, but she was willing and raging to go. A change was long overdue.

“Just one chance. I won’t let it go to waste.”

…

“It was creepy enough when it was Vivienne, but I didn’t expect to endure this type of thing again.” Zoe holds up a gift for everyone to see with a small grimace. Jett takes one look at it and whistles in appreciation.

“Those are some quality paints, alright. You’re going to have a field day with those, Kar.”

“Who said I was going to use them?”

“So I can throw them out or-”

“What? No! Zoe, don’t!”

Vivienne smirks from where she is curled up on the couch, amusement crinkling in her eyes. “Now this is a development, thought I can’t say it was unexpected.” The mirth dies down soon enough. To anyone else she’d look composed, detached, but the members of the Poppy know her well enough to detect the hint of worry clouding her expression. “How do you feel about this, Karina? Would you like us to handle it?”

“I can think of a few ways that might be effective.” Leon adds, from the other side of the room, a frown firmly in place.

“She just can’t give up, can she?” Remy huffs. “First Vivienne, now Karina… When do you think you’ll have your turn, Zoe?”

Zoe gives him a dry look. “Never. Not if I can help it. But seriously Kar, what do we do? If I have to see another gift from that woman, I swear-”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

The living room is always alive with noise when the Poppy gathers in it, sharing laughs, the atmosphere light and welcoming. All of that skids to an abrupt stop as soon as Karina has finished talking. Silence reigns so perfectly it becomes deafening, all eyes on her, searching, prodding, as if they were trying to find out when Karina had been replaced by some kind of impostor.

The artist laughs. “Seriously. Just give me at least a week with her. I want to see something.”

“Something?” Nikolai repeats, one of his eyebrows so far up into his hairline Karina is almost expecting it to fall off. “Not that I don’t trust your judgement, but you must remember who we are talking about. One week is plenty of time for her to kill you.”

“One week.” Karina says again, resolute. “That is all I ask.”

The rest of the Poppy sputters in a chaos of half-shouted reasons why this won’t work, and half-muttered inquiries regarding Karina’s sanity. She takes it all in stride, mostly because they aren’t telling her anything new, something she hadn’t considered before making the decision. Curiosity kills the cat, some say, and Karina is definitely curious to see how much Nadia has allegedly changed.

…

“I’m definitely surprised this time.”

Nadia gives her a curious look, her smirk firmly in place. The confidence she exudes is something that had interested Karina from the moment she had first seen the blonde woman, an unhinged storm worth admiring from a distance.

She had certainly mellowed out. There was still a dangerous undertone to her every action, but it was more controlled. Karina wasn’t naive, she knew Nadia could still kill people if she wanted to, probably with no remorse whatsoever, but she had the impression she would at least consider other alternatives before rushing in for the kill. Nadia hadn’t been lying – she had changed.

Or she was a really good actress, but Karina was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“I didn’t think you’d have such a drastic change in just one month.”

Blue eyes shimmer with delight. Nadia practically preens.

“I’m full of surprises. You’d better get used to that.”

“Good! That just means I won’t get bored anytime soon.”

“I’ll ensure you don’t.”

The chill of the night makes for an excellent excuse to get closer, not that Nadia really needs it. She moves closer to her in one smooth movement, but Karina catches the look the blonde woman sends her way, making sure she’s not overstepping any boundaries. It’s a sweet gesture, something she wouldn’t have expected from Nadia in the past.

They’re on top of the Eiffel Tower. Leon is somewhere near, out of sight, and Karina can just imagine him staring at them from wherever he is with a concerned frown, ready to intervene at any sign of trouble. But nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Karina stands there, transfixed by the anecdotes Nadia is telling her, eyes tracking her every movement with a shocked wonder she hadn’t felt before. There had been a spark with Vivienne, all those months ago, when the Poppy had recruited her, but nothing like the emotion she feels now. There’s a raging fire somewhere in her soul she had ignored until now, emboldened by Nadia’s smile, by her touch, by her mere presence.

And when the date comes to an end, and she stands inches away, blue eyes searching hers for permission?

Karina can only nod, eyes fluttering shut as Nadia slips one finger under her chin, directing her face up, expression softening as she leans in.

She feels like she is on cloud nine.

[gaemkyuu]

I’m Right Here (Owen Joyner x Fictional Character

Warnings: anxiety attack and self-deprecation A/N: Sorry this one took so long! The fictional character has been shamed for her anxiety from her parents. The experience of an anxiety attack is based on the ones I have. It’s different for everyone. Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

I’m Right Here

“Hey Jade! Wait up!” Jade was walking out of her trailer and on her way to her car, until she heard Owen call out for her. She paused and turned around to face the tall blonde, who stopped in front of her slightly out of breath. He bent slightly over his knees, catching his breath and still in costume.

“Aren’t you supposed to be filming a scene right now?” she cocked her eyebrow at him and rested a hand on her hip. They were on set filming for Julie and the Phantoms season 2, and Jade was brought in as a minor character as a part of Carrie’s posse. She didn’t have any major dialogues save the one or two quips her character had, so she was mostly there for the dance portions. That often meant she was able to leave set earlier or she had less days on set than others.

“Yeah, they’re setting up, but I wanted to catch you before heading out” Owen started to shift his weight from leg to leg and began to avoid eye contact. Jade felt butterflies in her stomach but immediately tried to suppress them, knowing that what she hoped was happening was probably not. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, only for them to be deflated. “You got any plans Tomorrow night?”

“Just snuggling with my dog and drinking wine while singing karaoke” she mentally facepalmed herself at her honesty. She just sealed the deal on being forever single. Owen fidgeted and the air between them became awkward, no thanks to Jade’s awkward confession.

“Listen, I was wondering, and you can totally say no, if you wanted to maybe go to dinner with me? That’s if dinner is something you do, not like eat, because I’m sure you eat dinner, but if you don’t I’m not judging you. I mean like dinner dinner, y’know?” the boy looked frazzled and a little desperate to stop his verbal diarrhea from making him look even stupider than he did in that current moment. 

“Like a date?” Jade hoped she wasn’t being too forward, but then again, a girl had to know. Owen gave her a sheepish smile and a nod yes, instantly filling her with excitement. “YES! Uhm... I mean sound great. I’d totally love- i mean like to go on a date with you” she blushed furiously, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate or too excited.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7?” she nodded and he smiled turning around and jogging back to set. Jade felt like she could fly or bench press a bus. She always tried to deny having feelings for him, but whenever she was asked she would stumble over her words and everyone instantly knew. Savannah and Tori often teased her about her feelings and pushed her to ask him out, but she was too nervous. Correction, she was too afraid to be rejected.

Jade never thought of herself as anything more than a plain and ordinary girl who happened to be able to dance well. She wasn’t overly pretty but she wasn’t hideous either, and there were very little standout qualities. Most people described her as quiet, mousy with a pretty smile, but nothing ever more than that. She believed she got it from her family as they too were described similarly. Her mother was a dentist and her father worked at a law firm. She was an only child and they have always lived a comfortable life, so naturally Jade never had any interesting stories to tell. She was just your average plain Jane.

The drive back to her apartment was full of joy and she blasted the music in her car as she drove, singing along to every tune. She was extremely excited to go on this date and her enthusiasm carried on as she bounced to her apartment door and inside. Placing her keys on the counter by the door, she went to her closet to pick out the best outfit. Looking at the array of clothing, she picked out a few and sent them to her co-stars/best friends for their opinions. Unfortunately, they both had different ideas as to what she should wear that night.

Sav: go for something cute and conservative! Southern boys like all American girls!

Tori: go for something a little sexy Cali girl. Like I’m a good girl but I’m also capable of being bad too

Sav: for the first date? Idk...

Tori: Sav, do you really think Owen is only about them all American girls? He was the one talking about how peaches were a brilliant emojis for butts

Sav: point taken.

Sav: go for something that best represents you!

Jade: a paper bag?

Tori: really?

Tori: you are more than just a paper bag J

Sav: we gotta go, Kenny’s calling places. I’m sure what you’ll pick will be fine! Send us a pic!

Jade frowned that her friends couldn’t chat longer to help her, but she knew she had to do this on her own. After filing through clothing, she finally found something she liked but noticed that she had spent an hour picking an outfit. Owen would be by in two hours, meaning that she had to speed up her process if she didn’t want to feel rushed!

 She slipped stepping into the tub to take a shower, smashing her elbow on the towel bar. She quickly tried to rub the pain as she cursed under her breath. She had no time to be clumsy! She started her shower up and gracefully hopped in this time, hoping to avoid any further injury. After doing her daily hygiene routine, she applied the hair mask and wrapped it up in a shower cap, applying her face mask right after. She noticed that her legs felt the slightest bit fuzzy and cursed herself for not shaving in the shower. Quickly glazing at her phone for the time, she slathered on shaving cream and attempted to shave her leg using her bathroom counter, which was a mistake. She slipped, nicking her leg on the way down, bumping her head against the wall too.

“It’s fine, you’re fine, not a big deal Jade” she comforted herself. “Stick a Band-Aid on it and just wear jeans!”

She began to wash out the hair and facemask, making a mental note to patch herself up after. As she patted her face dry, she opened the medicine cabinet to grab a Band-Aid, when the lights shut off. Fumbling around for her phone, she quickly turned on the flashlight to find a Band-Aid and her bathrobe. Slipping on the robe, she made her way to the apartment breaker. Nothing had tripped on the breaker panel, but the power in her suite was completely shut off.

“That’s fine! You’ll just have to go with your natural curls instead of spicing things up with a straightener!” she could already feel the nauseous and claustrophobic feeling in her chest creep up on her, but she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Now was not a good time for her to have an anxiety attack. She had an hour and fifteen minutes before Owen came. Plenty of time... right?

Making her way over to her closet, she began to look for another outfit that would look good with the jeans that she had picked out. She tried on top after top, but nothing seemed to fit right. Giving a huff in frustration, she sat on the bed to take a deep breath. She had to get going if she was going to have enough time to do her makeup, but it seemed like life had other plans. All of a sudden, the fire alarm in the complex went off, indicating that everyone was being asked to evacuate. She jumped at the noise and quickly threw on a sweater, grabbing her passport, wallet, documents and phone before exiting the building with the other residents. 

It turned out to be a fire drill that was scheduled to happen last week, but Jade had completely forgotten about it. They all had to stand outside while the fire marshal cleared the building and checking the safety of it. By the time Jade had made her way back into the building and up to her suite, she had 30 minutes before Owen came over. She hated the outfit she was wearing, her hair was a mess due to the wind outside and she had no makeup on!

The feeling in her chest increased gradually as she rushed around the house, doing her best to multitask. The power came back on when she entered the suite, so she tried straightening her hair as the curls were a mess, but she underestimated her multitasking skills. She burnt herself multiple times as she tried to do her makeup and hair at the same time. It didn’t help that the bottom half of her hair was straight and the bottom half wasn’t, and her eyeliner was uneven. Looking at herself in the mirror stressed her out even more, so she washed her face and decided to restart. The alarm on her phone notified her that Owen would be at the door in 5 minutes, and that’s when everything bubbled over. Looking at her messy face, half done hair, wet shirt and jeans, she sniffled until the tears welled over. She sank to the bathroom floor feeling like an idiot. No normal person would be this upset over their appearance, so why was she? Would Owen think she was weird because of this? Would he even want to go out with her? Her breathing increased and she started to feel her ensuite close in on her, signaling a full blown anxiety attack.

Jade wasn’t comfortable talking about her anxiety. Her parents often made her feel like she was overreacting or seeking attention whenever they happened, but they never understood that if Jade had the choice, these things wouldn’t get to her. This feeling that you need to escape, but you don’t have the energy so you’re just a buzzing ball sitting in a deep dark hole. She would often cry during her attacks, ashamed that she lost control and ashamed that she got to this place. Her friends would tell her to seek professional help for it, but she waved them off knowing that if she did see someone, it would make things worse between her and her parents. She loved them a lot and often sought for their approval, and doing this would work against the hard work she put in to make them proud.

“Jade?...unlocked...hope that’s okay?... helloo?....dead?.... Jade?”

“Jade? Hey... Hey you’re okay...”

“Jade? It’s Owen.”

“Squeeze my hand if you hear me”

“Okay good. I want you to breathe with me”

“You’re doing great”

“That’s it”

“Breathe in for five, out for five”

“In five”

“Out five”

The murkiness of the voice became clearer and clearer as she regained control of her breathing. She began to feel a warmth enveloping her and holding her firmly. She wasn’t in the bathroom anymore but rather on the sofa in her living room with the balcony door open, letting in a cool breeze. 

“Jade?” She focused her attention on the blonde boy who sat beside her, his arm currently wrapped around her and the other holding her hand. “Hey” his smile was warm and understanding, but Jade couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes. Seeing this, Owen knew immediately what was happening. Before the apology left her lips, Owen had already began to speak.

 “You have nothing to apologize for... Is this the first time?” She bowed her head sadly, wiping away the tears and shaking her head no. In this moment, she felt like a little kid getting into trouble, bracing herself for the disappointment she caused.

“Listen, I know how you feel. Your anxiety? Your panic? I feel it every day. You don’t have to be ashamed in front of me. Hell, you shouldn’t have to feel ashamed in front of anyone. Everyone goes through this right? Well obviously, in their own ways and not like you and me, but I think you get the point” his rant elicited a small chuckle from the girl. “Want to talk about it?”

Jade nodded her head, feeling comfortable around him. She recounted her struggles since getting home to the razor to the power to the fire drill up until their current moment. Owen was silent and attentive the entire time, hanging on to every word that came from her mouth.

“I mean, I’m flattered that you put in all this work to go on a date with me, but seriously, and I’m not saying this to like get on your good side or anything, but you don’t need all the makeup and stuff. You’re pretty pretty on your own” she smiled at his comment, grateful for the compliment as it made her feel better.

“Thanks, I’m sorry I ruined our date” he scoffed and shook his head, moving to the kitchen counter picking up the flowers he had brought for her.

“I was going to give these to you at the door, but seeing as the plans have changed, you should probably take them and put them in some water?” she blushed at the gesture and took them gratefully from him. As she puttered around the kitchen for some sort of vase, he tapped away on his phone. “Do you like pizza?”

“Owen, I LOVE pizza” he grinned back at her and tapped a couple more times on his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Bringing date night to us.” he replied simply, locking his screen and plopping down on the couch, clicking through the apps on the TV. “Alright, so you’re gonna show me your favorite musical and I will show you mine”

Jade thought that in order to make a good impression on a first date, you had to look perfect. Owen that night helped her see that when two people like each other, Pizza and Musicals are all you need on a first date.