#heat..heather.. chandler…. giggles and giggles

[steph-anie723]

i see you are doing hear me outs..

(i appolgize in advance.)

Samuel seabury - Hamilton

Heather Chandler - Heathers the Musical

Charles Lee - Hamilton

Daisuke -mouthwashing

Pythagorean theorem

JD - heathers the musical

vincent charbonneau - dead plate

(also, your art style is amazing aisgjfdkfshbw)

bringing out the chart for this one I see,,,,.,

also TY FOR THE COMPLIMENT 💗💗 you’re so sweet ahggh

[broadwayloserstuff]

*fluff promots

26, 19, and 16.

26 and 16 for channeler

and 19 for duke.

Could you do the musical? I like the actresses there more., could you also do a preferably female reader, if your comfortable.

Hey! So I just did the Chandler one because my inbox is SWAMPED! I hope that’s okay. I feel bad about not doing both so I kept it female! reader this time. Feel free to re-request tho!

FLUFF PROMPT(S):

16. “Here, take my jacket.” 26. “Can I kiss you?”

WARNINGS: swearing? just fluff.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

(Y/N) walked up the steps into Westerburg High School. As she walked, the cool winter air blew against her exposed legs. She shivered, silently cursing the short skirts she was made to wear as part of her Heathers ‘uniform.’

As she followed the rest of her peers into the building, she made her way to the small group of girls standing near lockers. The tallest one was blonde, her hair held up by a bright red scrunchie. She wore a red blazer, black plaid skirt, red socks, and black heels. Her name was Heather Chandler and she was the mythic bitch of Westerburg High. Next to her, a brunette clad in green stood. Her name was Heather Duke and she was editor-in-chief of the yearbook and newspaper. The last girl, a short blonde in a cheer uniform, was Heather McNamara. She was the head cheerleader of Westerburg’s cheer team.

(Y/N) walked up to the Heathers, taking the space near Heather McNamara. “God, (Y/N),” Heather Chandler sneered, “Could you have been any later?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at Chandler’s usual attitude. “God, Heather,” she retorted, “I didn’t realize you were so eager to be in school.” Heather Duke let out a giggle and Chandler gave her a glare, causing Duke to drop her head and stop laughing. Just then, the bell rang. Duke and McNamara said their goodbyes, wandering down the hall to their respective classes.

Lucky for (Y/N), she had homeroom with Heather Chandler. (Y/N) shivered one more time as they passed the open doors and Chandler noticed. “Are you cold? Here, do you want my jacket?” (Y/N) shook her head, knowing the jacket would be bright red and it would be evident whose jacket it was.

After school, the Heathers and (Y/N) had made plans to hang out at Heather McNamara’s house. Heather Duke drove Heather McNamara home to get the door unlocked and everything set up. Heather Chandler and (Y/N) met at the 7/11 to pick up Heather’s favorite snack: corn nuts.

When (Y/N) arrived at the 7/11, she didn’t see Heather’s cherry red mustang in the parking lot so she waited in her car. A few minutes passed and (Y/N) heard a tapping on her window. She turned and saw Chandler standing, tapping impatiently on the glass with her red fingernail. (Y/N) got the message. She got out of her car, hearing Heather say, “I’ve been waiting.” (Y/N) locked her door and replied, “I’ve been here, Heather.” Heather didn’t seem to believe her but the two walked into the 7/11.

As Heather sifted through the bags of corn nuts to see what she wanted, (Y/N) wandered around the vacant store. As she walked up and down the aisles, she heard Heather’s voice call, “(Y/N)! I’m ready!” (Y/N) sighed and walked back to the aisle she’d left Heather in.

Heather was holding several bags of corn nuts to her chest and tapping her heel on the tile. “Let’s go,” she ordered. (Y/N) followed Heather to the counter, where Heather paid. As they walked out, (Y/N) tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She followed Heather to her car, opening the door so Heather could toss the corn nuts inside. When she did so, Heather looked at (Y/N), a strange look on her face. Strange in the sense that (Y/N) had never seen it before.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” (Y/N) questioned. Heather tossed the corn nuts in the car and shut the door. “Can I kiss you?” Heather blurted out. (Y/N) was shocked. She felt her cheeks heat up as she answered, “Uh, sure.” Heather grabbed (Y/N)’s face with her manicured hands, pressing her lips against (Y/N)’s. Heather’s lips tasted like the cherry lip gloss she put over her lipstick.

Just as soon as the kiss had happened, it was over. Heather quickly pulled back, running into her car. She tossed a cautious glance over her shoulder, ensuring no one had seen her, before climbing into the car. (Y/N) walked back to her car in a trance. She sat in the driver’s seat for a moment before turning on her car. She glanced in the mirror and noticed some of Heather’s lipstick on her lips. She wiped it off, not wanting anyone to see it.

Did that really just happen?

[catgrump]

Sondham in a Theatre AU where Sonia is playing Heather Chandler and Gundham is the show’s makeup artist

🌻🌻🌻

Gundham was doing his best to control his breathing as he sat upright on a plush bench in the hallway backstage. “— beg in front of your boy toy here,” was heard over the PA system. Sonia will be backstage any moment.

He double checked his makeup arsenal to make sure he was fully prepared. He has the special effects stage makeup palette, clean brushes, and some eye makeup to smear on her face.

He’s done this routine before. All this week, he applied this makeup, getting notes from the director to make it bigger and more dramatic, but not so much that it looks fake in the front rows. Tonight, however, is the first night in front of an audience. Tonight, more than just the show’s team will see his work to make Heather Chandler look dead.

They truly cast the most beautiful girl in the acting department to play Heather Chandler. The role showcases her amazing acting prowess, as she has to be so cruel, when offstage, she is the human embodiment of kindness and elegance. “Corn nuts!” She exclaimed right before the music cue played. Heather Chandler has officially drank drain cleaner and died.

Gundham continues practicing his breathing, ignoring the other cast members hanging out in the hallway, while The Me Inside of Me begins. Sonia is going to come out once the song is over, and then it’s up to him to add a crucial detail to her appearance.

“Hi, Gundham,” Sonia whispered in case her mic was on.

“Hello, Sonia,” he did his best not to mumble as she sat down.

He also tried not to stare as she adjusted her costume. She wore a slinky red kimono robe over top matching red silk pajama shorts and a loose red silk top. It was hitting the curves of her body as she moved, and Gundham was fighting with all his might to not get distracted. Gundham cleared his throat as he dipped a brush into a pan of blue creme makeup. “How is the audience tonight?” He asked in a hushed tone, wishing to use his time to get to know Sonia better, if he could.

“Oh, they love it,” Sonia replied, her eyes lighting up, “Lots of laughs.”

“Excellent,” Gundham replied, “It is alright for me to touch your face, yes?”

“Of course,” Sonia smiled.

Gundham gently took his free hand, fingers softly feeling under Sonia’s chin, and started applying the blue creme to the corner of Sonia’s mouth.

Her lips are gorgeous, especially when they’re painted a glossy deep red. Gawking at them is going to get him nowhere, however. He dipped his brush back into the makeup, adding more blue to the inside of where he painted before.

Sonia giggled and her body trembled a bit in place, “It will always tickle,” she said.

“My apologies,” Gundham replied.

“It is not your fault,” Sonia said.

“I do wish to make the experience enjoyable for you,” he said as he shifted her face in his hand so he could better focus on Sonia’s eyes.

“Oh, this is plenty enjoyable,” she began, making her eyes look up to the ceiling, “I feel as though I am some sort of celebrity, getting this attention.”

Gundham smirked, his face turning red to match Sonia’s costume— and her lips, “You deserve the pampering.”

“Even though I am being made to look like a ‘hot mess’,” she giggled again.

“Still divine,” Gundham mindlessly said as he smudged makeup under Sonia’s eyes to make it look like makeup had been cried off.

“What was that?” Sonia perked up, trying not to move too much in Gundham’s gentle hold.

Gundham had a decision to make. He has limited time before Sonia needed to be back on stage, and his makeup application was almost complete. “I, um,” he turned his head away and cleared his throat again, “I said you still look divine.”

“Oh… my goodness, that is,” Sonia hoped the blush she applied would mask the heat creeping to her face, “That is lovely… thank you, Gundham.”

Gundham tenderly and slowly had his fingers trail a path under Sonia’s chin as he let go. “You always look divine.”

Sonia, heart tight in her chest, covered the microphone by her ear with one hand, then let her other hand rest on Gundham’s knee. She whispered as she got in close, “If we are being honest with each other, I have always thought you were rather handsome.”

She bounded up from her spot on the couch and darted off toward one of the stage doors, looking over her shoulder to wave goodbye before she had to be on stage again, leaving a speechless Gundham Tanaka behind her.

[theplanetm4rz]

a sickly satisfaction (ch.7)

pairing: jason dean/reader

summary: it’s cooler to walk away from an explosion without looking back, but goddamn, explosions look cool.

warnings: funerals, just general fucked up-ness

notes: ohoho here we go.

taglist: @stuckysdaughter @hybrid-huntress

JD’s POV

      I’ve always had an odd fascination with fire. There’s something about the blaze and the intense heat that drew me in. That, and the pure unpredictability of it. Something as small as a match can cause hundreds of acres of wilderness to burn to a crisp and leave nothing but ash in its wake, wiping out entire ecosystems like they were nothing more than kindling for a growing inferno. 

      Fire can be tamed, too. I see that clearly as I glance around the crowded church, candles illuminating every heartbroken and tearful face. I restrain a scoff as I spot kids from school hanging around in the corners forcing tears to come out of their eyes in a sad attempt to appear, well, sad. None of the teenagers here actually care about Heather Chandler, because all of the teenagers here are self-centered, attention seeking, heartless fucking assholes, and Heather was the biggest asshole of them all. She’s gone now, though, and soon the rest of them will be, too.

      Everyone, except for her. 

      Y/n isn’t like the rest of them. No, she’s ethereal. Otherworldly. Godly. She’s the only person on this godforsaken planet that knows what it’s really like to be an outsider. Not just an outcast, but someone that’s literally on the outside, watching those caged inside an unforgiving and unloving society. I don’t think I can live without her, and even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. Y/n is something precious, something that needs to be cherished and worshipped-- and I know exactly how to show her how special I think she is. 

      “Jason?” Y/n whispered. God, her voice sounded like the ringing of Heaven’s bells.

      “Mhm?” 

      “How many people do you think were paid to be here?” I snorted, quickly glancing around to make sure no one realized we were laughing at a funeral. 

      “I don’t think the question is how many were paid, but rather, how much they were paid.” I glanced at the casket at the front of the room. “You’d have to pay me a fuckton to get me to pretend to care about someone like Heather. A serial killer, maybe, but not Heather,” It was then that her laughter was poorly muffled by her hand, the sound of her giggles cutting through the sniffles and sobs. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and the awkward attempt to mask it as a cry was useless. 

      I didn’t feel bad about laughing at Heather’s funeral-- god knows she’d practically perform her own stand-up routine at mine. It is morbid? Yes, but morbidity has become part of the process; the steps to success, as some would call it. Of course, my goal is to dismantle the twisted fucking social hierarchy  that Westerburg created, but that’ll come later. At the moment I’m a bit too enamored with my counterpart to focus much on that. 

      The funeral was over before I even realized. I guess that’s a good thing, right? Funerals are too boring for their own good. I hope my funeral isn’t a fucking snoozefest like Heather’s was-- that is, if I even have a funeral. Maybe they’ll just toss my corpse into the ocean. I think that’d be preferable to a bunch of losers pretending to have liked me.

      “God, I’m sorry Jason, but I gotta go. I promised Tommy I’d meet up with him after the funeral and help him get ready for a date,” Hm. That Tommy might become an issue at some point. Or maybe not. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, won’t we? 

      “No worries, dollface,” I grin. “I’ve got some plans of my own, actually,” I don’t. 

      She left without another word, the sound of her footsteps suddenly overpowered by the sound of shouts from across the courtyard. Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney had a freshman caught in their greasy hands, not-so-discreetly keeping the kid in a headlock. The adults that were leaving the church venue paid no mind to the scene, averting their eyes with a disappointing sigh. 

      Kurt and Ram were just as bad as Heather, but at least Heather had taste. She offered something to the world-- a villain to project onto. The only thing Kurt and Ram contribute to is the salaries of the therapists all of their past girlfriends will inevitably have to see. They were a waste, a drain on society, and still they were praised. If only something were to happen to them… if only.

      With one last glance at the now empty funeral home, an idea popped into my head. 

      We played God once, and it paid off. Who’s to say we can’t do it again?

[hibiscus02]

Little chansaw one-shot! Bit of fluff, bit of angst, you know the deal. I was really exited to write this prompt!

"The Scrunchie Incident"

The class had started about fifteen minutes ago, and yet most students were already dazing off, their glazed eyes focused only on their own little worlds while Ms. Fleming's neutral, boring voice lured them to sleep. That is, until Heather Chandler, the Demon Queen herself, shows up at the door panting, hands desperately trying to fix her unusually messy hair while she tried to maintain her dignity and composure. Hot on her trail was Veronica Sawyer, in a similar state, her hands absently straightening her skirt while her eyes darted nervously from side to side.

The students, now mostly awake, perked their heads up, glancing curiously at the pair. Ms. Fleming stopped, flicking her eyes towards them with a slight smug on her face. "Well, look who decided to show up! Want to share with the class why you both are "fashionably late" ?" Heather immediately straightened her posture, a falsely sweet smile splattered across her face, while her icy blue eyes turned to her classmates, as if daring them to comment about the occurrence. Veronica, seeming to have snapped back into her senses, darted foward, swiftly taking a note out of her pocket and handing it to her teacher. "Actually, we were out...on a hallpass. F-for the yearbook...committee." Her fingers nervously brushed her hair as she offered Fleming a little smile.

The class relaxed, losing interest, fully aware that the note was fake, and Heather probably had been just taking her sweet time fixing her makeup, and poor Veronica was unfortunate enough to having to wait for the queen bee. Nothing out of the ordinary. Ms. Fleming scanned the note, seeming almost disappointed when she flicked her hand dismissively. "Well hurry up and get to your seats will ya?" Both girls huffed with relief and walked up to their respective seats, Chandler in the front of the class, Heathers Duke and McNamara on either side of her, while Veronica sat by the fourth roll, close to the window. Heather Chandler took her seat, the back of her head now facing the rest of classmates, while Veronica walked right through them, moving towards the back of the class.

That's when people started to notice.

The boy sitting right behind Heather gasped rather loudly, confusion written all over his face. At the same time, some nerd who was checking Veronica out also found himself staring at the brunettes hair, and immediately turned to his friend to quietly point it out. Veronica took her seat, both her and Heather oblivious to the whispered chattering directed at them.

McNamara and Duke immediately realized what was out of the ordinary, and changed startled looks before desperately trying to get Heather's attention as quietly as they could. McNamara tugged Chandler's arm. "Uh, Heather...Heather!" But the red themed girl's gaze was staring off into the distance, almost like she was daydreaming. Heather Duke tried to make gestures with her hands to catch Chandler's attention, while the giggles grew louder.

Meanwhile, a few rolls back, Veronica had a similar look on her face, but she soon noticed people staring at her, before whispering between themselves. She cautiously touched her own face, them looked at her clothes, looking for something that might be out of place, but still clueless about the glances being directed at her. Puzzled, she turned to Martha, who was sitting right beside her. "Martha, hey, why's everyone staring at me? Is there something on my face?" Her friend's eyes flicked rather nervously form side to side, her cheeks red with embarrassment. She pointed vaguely at her own hair.

"H..hm, y-your...your sc-scrunch-chie..." Martha spoke quietly, embarrassed. Veronica glared at her, confused. Her scrunchie? She didn't have a scrunch- oh, wait, she did have a scrunchie. Chandler had gifted her one just a few weeks before. But what could possibly be wrong with- oh fuck-!

Her eyes had met the back of Heather's head, and Veronica immediately understood. Shit shit shit sh- she grabbed the fabric that was tying her hair up, swiftly untying her messy chocolate locks.

In her hand, stood a bright red scrunchie.

At the same time, Heather seemed to be listening to Mac, who was saying something Veronica couldn't hear and frantically pointing at Chandler's head.

The Demon Queen went pale. The room was completely silent, save for Ms. Fleming obliviously writing something on the board. All eyes were eargely flicking between Heather and Veronica.

Chandler slowly turned around, locking eyes with the brunette. Her face was now as red as the scrunchie on Veronica's hand, from embarrassment or anger, no one could tell.

Kurt, who apparently had been listening to Ram's explanation of the situation, looked at them, seeming very confused. "I don't get it...they're just using eachothers hair thingy..." His eyes suddenly got wider, as he suddenly (and finally) got it "OH FUCK!" He clapped one hand on his mouth.

Almost as if they'd coordinated it, Heather and Veronica stood up swiftly, still staring at eachother in utter shock before walking out of the door as fast as they could without running.

Ms. Fleming eyed them, tilting her head in confusion. "Where do you two think you're going? Hey!"

"Yearbook commitee!" Both girls shouted in unison, while their classmates cackled behind them.

__//__//__

"Holy fucking shit Veronica, how could you get the wrong fucking scrunchie?!!" Heather was yelling as they stormed into the empty restroom. Running her hands through her auburn locks, she was clearly distressed. Veronica didn't look any better, chewing on her nail absently while she crucified them both internally. She turned to Chandler. "Well it's not my fault you gave me a bloody scrunchie in the first place!! And how could you not see there was bright red lump on my fucking head?! You're the one who drove us here!"

"I was busy trying to look presentable! And having to wash my hair with your cheap ass shampoo was freaking me out!" Heather spat, pacing around the small space like a caged lion. "What the fuck are we going to do?" Her eyes, now gray in the poor lighting, swirled like a storm. She looked like she was on the verge of a breakdown.

Veronica took a deep breath, calming herself down before she gently grabbed Chandler by her shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing around. She offered the taller girl a soft, kind smile, before placing her hands on Heather's face. "Heather, look at me. It's going to be okay. People are going to stop talking about it the moment you stare at them with your gorgeous, threatening eyes, and tell them that you're going to spread all kinds of shit about them. They'll forget about it in a week, I promise."

Heather chuckled slightly at Veronica's phrasing, before tears of distress and fear started to burst out. She suppressed a sob, burying her head on Veronica's shoulder while the brunette gently ran her fingers through Chandler's long, soft hair, mumbling comforting nonsense until both of them calmed down.

Heather took a deep, deep breath, a tired sigh escaping her lips before she opened her eyes, glaring at Veronica with such fondness that the brunette's heart skipped a beat. "What would I do without you?" Chandler teased playfully, her head still resting on the shorter girl's shoulder, their arms interlocked in a rather sloppy hug. Veronica chuckled lightly, nuzzling the top of Heather's head affectionately. "You'd be so screwed without me, little cherry."

Heather giggled, moving her head so their noses were almost touching. "That's why, mon coeur-" She gave Veronica a little peck on the lips. "-you're not getting rid of me so soon." While the brunette's face heated up, Heather took a step back, her face now completely serious. "But we're never staying at your house again unless it's a weekend." She said deadpan, immediately earning a laugh from Veronica. Soon they were both laughing, their previous worries forgotten.

[heathersgameoftag]

May you please analyze the scene in Bittersweet? <3 starting off with “They’ll probably be up there for a while.” She shifted her whole body so that she was facing Veronica and gave a lopsided smirk. “Might as well try and catch you out myself.” Thank you so much <33

“They’ll probably be up there for a while.” She shifted her whole body so that she was facing Veronica and gave a lopsided smirk. “Might as well try and catch you out myself.”

Veronica scoffed. “Good luck with that, though I’m not sure what you could ask a virgin.”

Heather gave a malicious grin. “Trust me, ‘Ronica, I’ll think of something.”

Veronica held her gaze confidently.

“Now’s your chance. It’s your turn, Heather.”

“Oh, right,” Heather’s mind snapped back into action, trying to think of something that didn’t involve sex.

Well, not quite.

“Continuing on from your last question… never have I ever masturbated with a shower nozzle.”

Veronica gaped at her.

“That’s a shit question and you know it,” she grunted, taking a sip of her vodka. “I’d be shocked if I ever met a girl who hadn’t.”

“You haven’t given me much to work with, Sawyer,” Heather retorted. “‘Kay, throw me a question.”

Veronica let out a huff of laughter, which made Heather internally question what was so funny. She didn’t have much time to to think about it though, since she was hit with the next question.

“Never have I ever woken up in a bed with four people.”

Heather spluttered. “Bitch, how the fuck would that even work?”

Veronica shrugged, grinning. “I’m sure you’d find a way.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Look, I’ll add it to the list.” She was surprised to hear Veronica giggle, what, after a whole night of them both snapping at each other.

“Tell me how it goes,” Veronica said, lifting her bottle closer to her lips. “Your turn.”

“Hmm,” Heather narrowed her eyes, tapping her chin with the bottle top. She racked her mind, trying to think of something to catch the girl out on. She gazed at her, her expression clearly sober. Determination to get the girl drunk made her mind race more.

“Never have I ever…” Goddammit, what have I asked already? She glanced at her vodka bottle, seeing that a quarter of it had disappeared. Shit, I’m just really fuckin’ drunk.

“Wow, Heather Chandler’s out of ideas?” Veronica gasped. Heather was drunk, but she could tell that the brunette was far from serious.

“I’m drunk, bitch,” she shot back. “Lemme think.” Her gaze raked her, trying to get some sort of idea to come into mind. Her eyes fell across her face, neck, chest…and it seems through word association, she thought of something.

“Never have I ever watched lesbian porn,” she slurred. Veronica burst out laughing.

“You hinting at something there, Heather?”

Heather stared at her blankly, unsure what she was referring to. Then it hit her.

“No, ‘Ronica, I’m not!”

“You sure?” She winked at her. Heather felt herself heat up. Dammit, the alcohol was hitting her hard tonight.

“No, the only thing I’m hinting at,” she said, attempting to sit up, only to almost fall onto her stomach. She would’ve, had she not caught herself with her free hand. “Is that you may be a dyke.”

Veronica gave her an odd look. “I don’t know where you got that idea from, but sorry to disappoint you.”

“It’s not disappointing,” Heather snapped. “Why would it be?”

“Dunno, Heather,” Veronica smirked. “Unless… never have I ever been attracted to a girl?”

Heather gave an irritated huff. “No.”

“You gonna add that to the list too?” Veronica smirked. Heather scorned at her.

“No, I’m not,” she glared at her, wanting to slap her cocky grin off of her face. Her drunken brain was buzzing for some sort of smart retort that wouldn’t involve violence. “Why you asking, Sawyer? Interested?”

Veronica stared at her, wide-eyed. “The fuck? No!”

“Damn, that stings.”

ah yes, the beginning of gay feelings. well, not really - gay feelings actually started in Change of Plan, but Chandler didn’t realise that.

But here, Chandler is getting more and more drunk and thoughts are beginning to develop that had only existed subconsciously. It starts out as just a bit of drunken fun - asking Veronica personal, TMI questions. Obviously she’s limited since Veronica is still a virgin, but hey, she can make it work. She kind of has to dive deep into the world of “slightly more gay” in order to think of questions that aren’t shit, though.

Her hidden attraction actually comes into play while doing this.  “Her eyes fell across her face, neck, chest…and it seems through word association, she thought of something.” She thinks of something to do with lesbian porn because she definitely felt like a lesbian looking at Veronica. She just had no idea of it. Even when it’s obvious: “Heather felt herself heat up. Dammit, the alcohol was hitting her hard tonight.”

The thing about this line in particular is that Chandler generally blames other people/things for fuck-ups and such, and this is no exception. Here she blames the alcohol for blushing when Veronica winks at her, because there’s no way in hell she’s going to admit to any “flaws,” even internally, so attraction to Veronica definitely cannot be her fault by any means.

Oh, and there’s accidental flirting at the end. Chandler’s just…. really gay, and so is Veronica.

[xx-multi-fandom-fics]

The New Kid Part One

Fandom: The Outsiders and Heathers (Crossover)

Pairing: Sodapop x Reader

Summary: Sodapop is a new student to Westerberg High the same year as JD is. The reader is in the same group as the Heathers and Veronica. While Veronica falls for JD, the Heathers are busy flirting with Sodapop. However, Sodapop takes a liking to you instead.

Word Count: 2,741

Warnings: Language

A.N: This was written for @meganlpie‘s Musical AU Writing Challenge.

Another year of torture you thought as you walked through the smelly, loud, and crowded halls of Westerberg High School in Sherwood, Ohio. At least it’s my last year. After three years of high school, there’s pretty much nothing that I haven’t seen. You were wrong. You looked around the busy hallway and saw two of your friends, Heather McNamara and Heather Duke rushing towards you. Even though they had seen you yesterday, they looked as if it were the first time seeing you since junior year ended.

“I heard there’s two new boys this year. And they’re in our grade!” Heather McNamara cheered.

“How very,” you said grinning at both of the Heathers.

“I hope at least one of them is cute. I’m tired of all these nerds. Besides, I’ve already dated all of the cute guys that go to Westerberg High,” Heather Duke sighed and rolled her eyes. You and Heather McNamara shared a glance and began laughing.

As you continued walking to the cafeteria, you ran into Heather Chandler and Veronica who were once again arguing. Veronica was the one who had gotten you into this group, so you were hoping that she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her spot or yours.

You had begged her all summer about getting you included in the group. It took about a month, but finally she called you and said you were in. You didn’t want to ask what she had to do to get you in. All that mattered was you were finally in.

Once you met the Heathers, you seemed to get along pretty well and grew close quickly. All except Heather Chandler. You faked your kindness to her. In your opinion, she was too bossy, and you weren’t going to suck up to someone a year below you. You were kind enough to stay in the group, but you would still argue with her if you didn’t agree with her.

You could tell the fight was escalating by the way they began waving their arms more violently and raised their voices, trying to be louder than the other. You quickly leapt into action before anything more could happen. You stepped in between them right as Heather began to lurch towards Veronica.

“Hey. Why don’t we go to lunch and maybe discuss it calmly while eating?” you offered.

“Okay. Fine,” Veronica said, not taking her eyes off of Heather.

“I’m done with her and this entire dumb discussion anyways. Let’s just leave it with me being right,” Heather Chandler declared. Veronica stayed silent, not wanting the fight to get physical. Heather Chandler strutted off and you, Veronica, Heather, and Heather followed her.

As you entered the cafeteria, the disgusting smell of everyone’s lunch mingled together and met your nose. You scrunched up your nose to show your disgust.

“One thing I’m not going to miss when I go to college is the smell of this cafeteria,” Veronica complained while subtly trying to hold her breath.

Once you all sat down, Heather McNamara told Heather and Veronica about the two new guys. Everyone at the table was glancing about trying to find the newbies in the sea of kids.

“Found one,” Veronica murmured staring at a guy with black hair, somewhat tan skin, and candy apple green eyes. He was wearing a black trenchcoat, even though it was at least 80 degrees out. Beneath that, he was wearing a green plaid shirt that was buttoned up and matched the color of his eyes.

“God Veronica, drool much?” Heather McNamara teased. You laughed knowing that Veronica clearly liked this guy by the way she gawked at him with a lovesick smile.

“I am not drooling!” Veronica growled turning her attention back to you guys. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, just in case. Everyone sitting at your table saw and began laughing.

“Well, don’t worry. You can have him,” Duke said still looking around with a frown hoping that the other new guy was more her type. Heather and Heather nodded in agreement.

“Go for it!” you urged.

Veronica laughed at your excitement for her, got up, and began walking over towards the table where the mysterious new kid sat at.

“His name is Jason Dean! He’s in my algebra class! You got this!” you yelled at Veronica. She turned around blushing and glared at you for you had yelled it loud enough for everyone in the cafeteria to hear.

“Now where’s the other potential hottie,” Chandler queried, moving on from anything that didn’t have to do with her.

“Oh my god,” Duke mused. “There he is.” She pointed towards a guy that looked too hot to live in a little town like Sherwood, Ohio.

“He should be a movie star! He’s so fucking perfect,” McNamara said softly, and her jaw slightly dropped.

You looked over in his direction upon hearing this. Heather is right. He is perfect. His beautiful golden hair looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. It laid just the right way to frame his face alluringly. You suspected his jawline was so sharp that it could cut a diamond. His gorgeous green eyes sparkled as he smiled showing his straight pearly white teeth. Once you came back to reality, you realized what he smiling at. You. He was looking directly at you and smiling his perfect smile at you. You looked down as your cheeks turned a dark rose color. You smiled and bit your lip flirtatiously, not knowing if he could see it while your head was down.

“Oh my god! He’s looking over here!” Duke squealed. “I think he was looking at me! I’m going to go talk to him!”

“Shut up, Heather! Get crucial, he’s looking at me. Therefore, he’s mine,” Chandler glared coldly at Duke. “So don’t embarrass yourself by trying to make a move on him.”

He began to walk over to your table. You gave up all hope of ever dating him. If Heather Chandler wanted something, she always got it. No matter what she had to do to get it. If you wanted to stay in this group, you’d just have to spend another year-- no-- your final year of highschool, pining after someone who you knew you could never have. You looked over at Veronica. She was sitting besides Jason Dean, and they were both laughing as if they had heard the funniest joke. At least one of us can be happy.

“Hey,” Heather Chandler said flirtatiously as the new guy reached your table. “What’s your name?”

“Sodapop,” he smiled at you. “What’s your name, Beautiful?” As he said this, he leaned towards you placing his right hand on the table for support.

Heather Chandler’s face turned furious, but she quickly hid it realizing that she would just have to win him over.

“I’m Y/N. This is Heather, Heather, and Heather,” you explained motioning to each of them.

“The Heathers. I’ve heard about you guys,” Sodapop said starting to sound slightly uneasy. He straightened up and took his hand off of the table. “Well, it was nice to meet all of you.”

He handed you a tiny piece of notebook paper. “It’s my number. Call me.” He winked at you and slightly backed away, making like he was about to leave. However, he stood still where he was and waited to hear your response.

“Okay!” you giggled. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realized how uncool you were being.

“That bitch!” Heather Chandler murmured quietly.

“Great,” Sodapop said. It didn’t seem like he heard what Heather had said. “I have to jam, but hopefully I’ll see you later.” He winked at you and left your table to go sit with some moderately popular kids.

Heather Chandler glared at you, then at Sodapop’s back, then back to you. You could see the fire in her eyes and saw how her teeth were gritted. You knew you were in for it.

“How juiced are you?! The only reason you’re in this group is because your lame ass friend begged for you to be able to join!” As she said “lame ass friend” she motioned towards Veronica. “You either let me have him or you’re out!”

Getting into this group had been the best thing that had happened in your entire high school experience. But was it worth it?

“I won’t make a move on him, but it’s not my fault if he doesn’t like you,” you said slyly.

“That’s it! You’re done for! I don’t care if Veronica stops forging us hall passes! It’s not worth it! Get out of here, Loser!” she screamed standing up from her seat and getting in your face.

You quickly got out of your chair and began to head out of the cafeteria, tears threatening your eyes. The people who sat near you turned and stared as you walked out. You scanned over them, refusing to make eye contact, to make sure that Sodapop was not one of the people who was looking at you. You couldn’t let him see you crying. Not on the first day you had met. As you saw more and more people looking, you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. As your cheeks reddened, you wiped the tears, cleared your throat and quickened your pace as you pushed open the cafeteria doors with all of your might.

As you turned the corner, the bell rang. You rushed to the girls bathroom, because you didn’t want anyone to see you cry. You threw open the bathroom door and checked under each of the stall doors to make sure no one else was in there. Since you didn’t see anyone, you went over to the corner near the sink and sunk down while grabbing your hair and heavily sobbing. Great start to the year! Now no one was going to want to hang out with you, Heather was going to end up getting Sodapop, and Veronica wouldn’t want to leave the popular group for you. She had left others behind, and now those unpopular kids whose feelings you had never thought about were you. Karma is a bitch… You hugged your knees to your body as the cold from the tile penetrated through your jacket. The tears continued to flow from your eyes. You were all alone. In high school, being alone feels like one of the worst things possible. You continued to sob, not caring if you were missing class. This year was suppose to be the best year of high school. Now it’s going to be the worst year of my life. You had already begun planning your speech to your parents as to why they should let you enroll in online classes. Of course you wouldn’t say the real reason was because you had fucked up your one chance at being popular and were now the least popular person all in one day. Not even that, maybe 30 minutes.

After you planned out your reasoning, you turned your attention to the tile wall. You would rather focus on anything but the situation you were in. The tile itself was a light cream color. The tiles were glossy and cold to the touch. You had gotten hot because of how worked up you were. You took off your jacket and pushed your body against the chilling tile seeking relief. Your fingers traced the lines of the gravely grout in between the tiles. The pattern you created by tracing one tile and then another memorized you.

After a while, you had stopped crying. There was still a ball of nausea in your stomach, but you figured that wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. You put on your jacket. The soft fabric inside the jacket made you feel more comfortable and calm. You stood up and walked over to the sink closest to your corner. You grabbed onto the cold porcelain and stared into the mirror. Your mascara had left your eyelashes and was now on your cheeks where the tears had fallen. Your eyes were red and puffy. As you looked closer, you even saw little purple dots on your forehead. God. I look awful!

You sloppily wiped off the streaks. However, you couldn’t get all of the mascara off, so you left it alone, hoping that you wouldn’t run into anyone as you waited for this horrible school day to end. You also fixed your hair to where it covered more of your face. Despite your efforts, you knew if someone were to see you, they’d know that you were crying.

You finally left the bathroom after realizing that someone was going to come in there at some point. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. Not any of the Heathers. Not Martha. Not even Veronica. You were just roaming around the hallways with your head down, trying to calm down, counting the tiles, when you ran into someone.

“Oh shit. Sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t look up to see who it was, because you didn’t want them to see you in this state. A warm hand gently grabbed your arm as you tried to pass.

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing in the hallway?”

You looked up to see the familiar handsome face.

“Hey Sodapop,” you murmured. “I was just heading back to class.”

He noticed your partially wiped mascara streaks, your puffy red eyes, and he even saw the little purple dots on your forehead.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as his eyes scanned over your face. His face etched with concern.

“Nothing. Just typical teenage girl issues,” you laughed trying to trick him into thinking you were okay, so you could be left to be alone, like you were destined to be.

“It’s not nothing.”

“You don’t even know me!” you spat. “How would you know if what I cried over is nothing or not?! Maybe I’m just extremely emotional!”

“Well, first of all, no one gets defensive over nothing. Second of all, no one cries so hard that they look like that over nothing,” Sodapop joked.

“Not funny,” you muttered lowering your head.

“Okay. Fine. Sorry. You’re right. I don’t know you.” He gently placed his fingers under your chin and raised your head making you look him in his dumb beautiful eyes. Once your eyes met, he smiled softly. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re beautiful no matter what. Let’s get out of here and get to know each other. You can tell me what’s wrong, and you can find out why I moved to a new school district senior year.”

“There’s no way we can just ditch. There’s an admin who has an office right by the entrance doors.”

“I know, but she’s fast asleep. I guess she didn’t get enough sleep last night. She must’ve gotten use to sleeping in over the summer. I went to go ask for directions to the guidance counselor’s office, and she didn’t even stir when I asked,” he said holding up the hall pass.

“It’s the first day!”

“Exactly, it’s the first day. Besides, you already ditched one class. Also, it’s not like we’re doing anything important.”

As you two reached the doors to leave this hell hole, Sodapop grabbed your hand. Your fingers intertwined perfectly. You quietly rushed through the doors.

“That one’s mine.” Sodapop pointed towards a ‘58 red Plymouth Fury once you had gotten outside.

“No way!” you mused. “That is not yours!”

“Yes, it is!” Sodapop laughed at your expression. “My dad and I fixed it up before he died.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’ll tell you about it once you explain why you were crying.”

“Fine. But first take me away from here,” you pleaded.

You both got in the car. The inside looked as amazing as the outside did. The white and red leather seats matched perfectly with the red exterior. There wasn’t a speck of dirt in the car. Somehow, it even smelled like a new car.

“So, where do you want to go?” Sodapop asked after you had stopped freaking out about his car.

“Anywhere but here.”

“I know the perfect spot,” Sodapop grinned. He revved his engine, and then sped out of the parking lot. You rolled down the window. As the cool wind blew on your face, you felt your worries start to leave. Maybe everything will be okay. Maybe Sodapop is all you need.

Thank you so much for reading! Please like/reblog. Requests are open.

[bicaddyheron]

Waking up in Heather Chandler’s bed wasn’t necessarily a foreign experience, not if you were a Heather, at least. With the parties and drunken shenanigans, the four of them often fell asleep watching a dumb movie in a pile on Heather’s bed.

That still didn’t prepare Veronica to open her eyes that particular morning, with sunlight streaming through the curtains and the soft sheets brushing against her bare skin. She hadn’t been drunk last night, so it wasn’t a surprise, per se, to wake up naked in Heather Chandler’s bed.

It just wasn’t something she had expected to happen. But it did. And now it was a Thursday morning and they had to go to school and Veronica only had her clothes from yesterday, which were strewn all over the floor of Heather’s room.

Next to Veronica, Heather was starting to stir.

“Morning, Heather,”

“Good morning, ‘Ronica.” she yawned and stretched, the red sheets falling from her collarbones down to her stomach, and Veronica couldn’t help but stare. She was allowed to, now, right? Her name on Heather’s lips last night... she could stare. Heather broke her out of her reverie. “What time is it?”

“Oh, only about 6:30. We’ve got some time.” Veronica’s eyes widened. “Time to get ready! Not like... not that I’d mind, but just, it’s not what I meant.”

Heather giggled, a sweet sound this early in the morning. She rolled over and pressed a chaste kiss to Veronica’s cheek before getting out of bed and slipping on her robe. Veronica can’t help but watch her long, tanned legs as she walked over to the closet and started flipping through clothes.

“Hey, Veronica?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t bring clothes for today, did you? I know this wasn’t exactly planned.”

She could feel her cheeks heat up a bit, but nodded her confirmation.

“Okay,” Heather said, continuing to look through her closet intently. She hummed her appreciation as she grabbed a black miniskirt and a red off-the-shoulder floaty top and tossed them at Veronica.

“These are... for me?”

“Unless you want to wear the same clothes as you did yesterday, which I would never allow.”

“The top is red. You’re always red.”

“Well, today we’re both red.”

“Everyone’s going to start spreading rumors. You know that, right?”

“Let them, I don’t care. Besides... you look good wearing my colors.”

Veronica couldn’t see herself but she knew her blush was depending and wondered if it matched the shirt.

Person A: “Everyone’s going to start spreading rumours. You know that right?”

Person B: “Let them, I don’t care. Besides… you look good wearing my colours.”

[xanthera]

omg can you make my day and do 6 for chansaw pls

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. The prompt gave me a million ideas so this ended up being way longer than I meant for it to be lol. Modern AU

6. “I need a place to stay.”

–

Veronica hadn’t expected for her doorbell to ring at eight PM on a Thursday, yet there it was, somehow audible over the TV and the pounding rain outside. She thought about putting on real clothes to answer it, but if someone was going to come calling at this hour on a weeknight, they could deal with seeing her in her pajamas. Besides, she didn’t want to leave whoever it was outside in the deluge for longer than they needed to be.

“Coming, coming.” She checked the peephole and nearly fell backwards in shock at who she saw. However, she quickly composed herself and opened the door to a sopping wet Heather Chandler.

“I need a place to stay.”

Veronica didn’t ask questions, just nodded and pointed Heather in the direction of the downstairs bathroom with a subdued, “There are clean towels under the sink.” Heather kicked off her shoes and wordlessly walked into the bathroom with a way-too-full duffel bag–Heather has luggage that isn’t Gucci? Veronica mused–slung over her shoulder. The door slammed behind her, followed by the sound of the shower turning on.

It took Veronica a good ten seconds to realize that the front door was still open, the carpet slowly soaking up the rain. She hurriedly shut it and peered out of the bay window, catching sight of Heather’s Porsche under the orange glow of the streetlight. So she still had her car, but couldn’t stay at home, and had clearly packed in a hurry. Veronica had a sinking feeling in her gut, but she tried to ignore it. The reason for her friend’s sudden appearance didn’t matter, only the immediate situation.

That situation being an apparently homeless Heather Chandler in her shower.

Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Heather stepped out in a too large ‘Big Fun’ tee and gray sweatpants. She clearly hadn’t bothered to blow dry her hair, and there was still a hint of smudged mascara under her eyes. Or were those just dark circles? It wouldn’t have surprised Veronica, considering how haggard she looked right now. She shuffled into the living room with none of her usual grace, her posture slouched and her eyes cast downward. With a groan, she plopped down onto the couch, and Veronica sat awkwardly next to her.

She ventured, “So do you want to tell me why you’re here, or…?”

Heather began toying with the fringe on one of the throw pillows and sighed, “I’m pretty sure my parents just kicked me out.”

Veronica didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “What the fuck?! Why?!”

Any apathy on Heather’s part disappeared in an instant, but what Veronica heard next wasn’t her normal bitching; she was breathless, panicked, clearly hurting behind the anger. “Because they’re religious nut-jobs and going to my grandma’s crazy fire and brimstone church just makes it worse because she’s a delusional old cow who thinks that everyone who doesn’t follow a list of arbitrary rules from fucking thousands of years ago is going to burn in hell and I got sick of them repeating her bullshit every time two guys hold hands on TV and long story short I accidentally outed myself and they told me dykes weren’t allowed in their household and to get out.” It all came out in one breath, leaving her panting and shaking, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. She swallowed hard and choked out, “So I did.”

Veronica immediately pulled Heather into a tight hug, and she felt the other girl practically melt into the embrace, her shoulders quaking with quiet sobs. She was way out of her depth here, with a crying Heather Chandler trembling in her arms. This was not a situation she was prepared to deal with. She could see herself holding Duke during a breakdown, or even Mac, but Chandler was unflappable. The mythic queen of Westerberg, solid steel, never showed any emotion that could be seen as weak.

Yet here she was, sobbing into Veronica’s chest because she had been kicked out by her parents after accidentally coming out as gay.

Speaking of which, that was another topic she’d have to broach at some point, but right now Heather just needed to be held, so she pulled the other girl closer and started rocking slowly. There wasn’t even a question in her mind that this could have been the first time in years that Heather had let herself be this vulnerable, if her relationship with her family was any indication. Veronica had never seen mask crack before, but it had completely crumbled away before her eyes, revealing what Heather Chandler truly was behind the makeup and hot clothes and bitchy attitude: a teenager trying to survive high school by any means necessary.

And really, that was all that any of them were. Just a bunch of scared kids doing their best, and getting raked over the coals if they didn’t live up to some unspoken standard of “cool,” or even just “normal.”

“The world is fucked up,” she murmured, absently running her fingers through Heather’s hair.

Heather sniffled and let out a humorless chuckle. “Yep. I guess we fit in pretty well, then.” She snuggled closer to Veronica, nuzzling into her collarbone, and the brunette felt her face heating up at the closeness. If this were happening under less dire circumstances, she might enjoy cuddling with Heather. But, alas, even though she now knew that their sexualities were compatible, that would have to wait.

“Did you eat dinner before, uh, before you left?” Heather shook her head. “Do you want me to throw something together?”

She shook her head again. “We’d have to move to do that. I’m comfy right here.”

Veronica couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “Do you want to just nap, then?”

Heather pulled away just enough to look at her with watery gray eyes. Her makeup had been washed away, her hair was limp and untamed, and she was wearing the least sexy sleepwear that Veronica had ever seen her in, but she was beautiful in that moment. No accessories, no mask; just Heather.

“I’d like that,” Heather smiled, and slowly laid down with her head in Veronica’s lap. Veronica reached for the remote and switched the TV to the most calming thing she could find - a documentary about migratory birds - and resumed toying with Heather’s hair. When she felt her breathing slowing down, she pulled the blanket off of the armrest and draped it over Heather’s shoulders.

This wasn’t how she had expected her evening to go, and there would definitely be a lot to deal with when Heather woke up, but for now, she could pretend that maybe the world was a little nicer. It wasn’t hard to imagine, with the comforting weight of Heather sleeping on her lap.

Those were the thoughts that floated in Veronica’s head as she drifted off to the sounds of birdsong and Heather’s soft breathing.