blondes do have more fun - e.m.
y2k eddie munson x girly reader
warnings: robin and reader get so drunk, reader is too clumsy for her own good
opposites attract masterlist
a/n: another edit and repost of this y2k series. this was the second blurb i ever wrote for them and it was heavily inspired by that one scene in 10 things i hate about you, iykyk. enjoy babes 💕
word count: 1.2k
It was an impulse decision.
So of course he would be surprised.
If you were being honest, you were a little scared to see Eddie’s reaction. Which was why you asked Nancy to tag along with you to the hair salon. Knowing she would give you her honest opinion either way.
It took over two hours to get your locks to the bleach blonde perfection you desired. Keeping your eyes off of the mirror during the entire process due to your nerves. So when the stylist finally spun your chair around, you were genuinely shocked as you fell in love upon meeting your reflection.
You had never done much with your hair over the years, besides the occasional haircut. But you were itching to try out something new. Finding yourself inspired by your latest obsession, Legally Blonde.
You had dragged Eddie to see it with you in theaters more times than you cared to admit— but he never once complained.
He had actually enjoyed it, even making a comment or two about how he thought Reese Witherspoon was pretty. Which got the wheels in your head turning, leading you into a salon chair with bleach covering your head.
“It looks amazing, hun,” Nancy gushed as you left the salon, arms linked together as you ventured deeper into the Starcourt Mall.
There was a new air of confidence about you as you walked, sipping on Orange Julius’ smoothies. You all but dragged her into Wet Seal to help you find the perfect outfit for later. Steve was hosting yet another rager, which had become a recurring weekend event amongst your friend group.
After many trips to the fitting room (and an impromptu fashion show), you eventually walked out of the mall with a mini black dress and matching pair of platform sandals.
You decided to keep this new look under wraps for the rest of the day, waiting until Steve’s party to reveal it to everyone.
As you walked into the male’s home you kept your head high, pushing through the crowd of tipsy college kids to find your friends. Eddie was going to meet you here after band practice had wrapped up. But you couldn’t help but feel your nerves stirring in your stomach.
What if he hated it?
Logically you knew it didn’t matter, it was your hair after all. But you still wanted him to like it nonetheless.
You spotted Robin and Steve in the living room, bounding over to them with a smile. They were clearly in the middle of a squabble of some sort, but Robin’s face lights up once she sees you.
It was quite obvious she was already wasted, her cheeks thoroughly flushed as she stumbled towards you. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, attempting to reign her back in but she easily shrugs him off.
“Oh my god, Nance told me it looked good. But it’s way better than I could’ve imagined!” She squealed, pulling you into a hug as you just laughed.
She leans closer to your ear, hanging onto your arm for support, “Dude… Eddie is gonna lose it. It’s giving Pam Anderson and Elle Woods— you look hot.”
You felt your cheeks warm from her words, as Steve is finally able to tug her off of you with an annoyed expression. You hadn’t even thought about that, taking a glance down at your attire. It was very reminiscent of an outfit you’d seen Ms. Anderson sporting on the cover of one of those trashy tabloid magazines recently.
Robin was right, per usual but it only makes you more anxious for your boyfriend to arrive.
You make your way over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink, nearly chugging it in an attempt to make your nerves disappear. But one drink quickly turns into four and having not eaten much before you arrived— you became very drunk, very fast.
So drunk that you didn’t even notice when Eddie finally did arrive, after a very concerned phone call from Steve.
The brunette was already having to babysit Robin, but now he was struggling to keep you both in check. Chasing the two of you around his house, your chorus of giggles barely being heard above the bubbly pop music. Eddie arrives soon after that phone call, searching frantically through the crowd of people to find you.
However it didn’t take him very long to do so.
A crowd had begun to form in Steve’s dining room, as you pulled Robin up onto his table with you. Both of you dancing drunkenly on the top of it, letting the heavy bass pump through you. The both of you ignore the whistles and shouts from the crowd, raising your hands above your head.
Eddie had finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, watching in amusement as you got a little too into the gyration of your hips. Not a care in the world as you tossed your head back. Seemingly forgetting about the large chandelier that hung behind you. That amusement turns to slight horror as the back of your head smacks right against the light fixture.
A combination of the impact and the alcohol has you feeling lightheaded, your knees start to wobble. Robin gasps in shock, attempting to grab on to your wrist but fails miserably as you lose your balance. Letting you fall back into the crowd and right into a pair of strong arms.
Your vision is blurred and your head starts to spin as the person quickly carries you out of the room, cradling you against their chest. In your inebriated and dizzy state you don’t realize it’s the metalhead you’ve been waiting to see all night.
You squirm in his arms, attempting to get him to put you down, “Excuse me— I have a boyfriend.” You huff, pushing against their denim clad shoulder, “Put me down!”
The pout adorning your lips causes him to chuckle, immediately recognizing the sound. You blink your lashes rapidly as your boyfriend’s face finally comes into focus. That pout is quickly replaced with a toothy grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.
Eddie kisses you back gently, kicking the door shut behind him. He sits you both down on the bed, now in the comfort of Steve’s guest room. You snuggle up into his chest immediately, playing with his dark curls.
“Glad you’ve finally come back down to earth, love,” he hums, "Is your head feeling okay?”
You sigh happily, nodding as Eddie begins to feel the back of your head. Carefully inspecting it to make sure you haven’t done any significant damage. You wince as he finds a tender spot, the male pressing a light kiss to it.
“So you dye your hair and go completely off the rails,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I got here when I did.”
His concerned tone makes you giggle nonetheless, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss against his jaw. The room had finally stopped spinning, and you felt ready to get back to the party.
“You know what they say, Eds, blondes have more fun.”
Eddie just rolls his eyes at you fondly, ruffling your freshly dyed locks.
“Uh huh, sure they do, sweetheart.”
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Time to ramble. I’m thinking about the way Arya and Sansa fans seem to get into this debate about who was more lonely and neglected in Winterfell. Which is kind of funny because then the arguments get totally reversed when debating other aspects of the characters. But anyway. The general arguments seem to be:
1. Arya was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because of her connection to Jon and the fact that she doesn’t look like her true born siblings. The more direct evidence comes from the way Sansa and Jeyne teased her, the harshness of Septa Mordane, and Catelyn’s exasperation. It can be inferred that Arya feels a sense of insecurity wrt to her family ties as she wonders if her own mother would want her back after everything that happened. It can be assumed that she was a bit of an outcast based on her disinterest in the things expected of her as a girl, and we see the way many characters look down upon non-conforming women and girls in-universe. Sansa, on the other hand, receives praise from her mother and the septa and has two named close friends in Winterfell. She happily conforms to what is expected of her as a highborn girl and we can assume she would fit in in Winterfell.
2. Sansa was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because she is the only one to lose her direwolf, which is the family symbol. The more direct evidence comes from contrast with Arya, whom Sansa observes can “make friends with anybody,” seemingly in contrast to herself. Ned agreed to kill Lady despite knowing she was innocent and indulged Arya’s interest in swordplay whilst being unenthusiastic about indulging Sansa’s interest in tourneys. Arya is demonstrated to be beloved by Ned’s men in a way we do not observe with Sansa. We can assume that Sansa didn’t feel like she belonged because of her interest in sothron culture, something none of her siblings share. Arya, on the other hand, is extroverted, makes friends easily, is northern in appearance, and has no interest in sothron culture, so we can assume she fit in in Winterfell.
I actually don’t think a lot of the points in the two arguments is mutually exclusive. We also have to remember POV bias. Arya doesn’t reflect on Any friends her age she had at Winterfell (I am not including Mycah because I am under the impression they became friends on the way to King’s Landing), but Arya is not one to reflect and reminisce. Sansa notices that Arya can make friends with anyone, but she doesn’t experience Arya’s inner world. What does Sansa mean by making friends? Does she see Arya having fun and being at ease talking to anyone and feel envy, since she herself feels like is performing, always minding her manners, when she’s socializing with most people? Could it be that Arya is friendly but struggles to find long term close friends like Jeyne and Beth, attributing this disparity to Sansa’s “ladylike” interests? Could it be that being teased by Sansa and her friends and scolded by Catelyn and Mordane has made Arya assume that other girls wouldn’t be interested in close friendship with her, causing her to be friendly but keep a certain distance? (**please note I am not trying to make a case for nlog Arya. I think keeping a distance because you assume you’ll be rejected is different and does not require that she looks down upon other girls, because there is no evidence for that here**)
I don’t have a good conclusion I just think it’s interesting that this is something that gets debated because the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. We can’t know because we get very few flashbacks and the story picks up when their normal lives in Winterfell end. I can’t speak to George’s intentions but if we pretend they’re real people I’d speculate that both would have felt misplaced within Winterfell at times, envying certain traits about the other
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Desperate Desires
I'm having too much fun with this so here is part 2 of Depth of Devotion from the readers POV.
Minors DO NOT INTERACT.
Mentions of female anatomy.
Art is from @k_yodaka_02 on Twitter
You were brooding on the couch. Your already horrible day was made only the better when your grocery bag ripped sending all your purchased wares scattering across the floor. You wanted to tear your hair out and break down right at that moment, you were overwhelmed and certainly overstimulated. You begin to pick up the fresh produce from the floor cursing each one when your behemoth of a neighbor, arms full of peppers and your restock of lotion approaches you. You look up at him and there is Adonis himself. The first thing you always notice is his eyes. Beautiful crystalline blue, the color of glaciers. Deep set and piercing, bordered with long blonde lashes. Aquamarine set in gold. Who gave him those eyes? He was absurdly handsome with his chiseled jawline, full lips, long romanesque nose that is slightly crooked to the left like it was broken at some point, short choppy auburn hair. Did he cut it himself? You wonder until suddenly you become aware that you were probably staring silently for a little too long and he's speaking to you. German, It's not pronounced but subtle. “Here,” he says holding out his arms towards you, “happens to me all the time.” He offers a sympathetic crooked smile. You huff and grab your things from his arms shoving them in what was left of the broken bag. Cheeks flushed from embarrassment and frustration. “Thanks' ' you reply curtly as you turn away to go to your apartment. Quickly sliding your key in and opening the door. You shove it shut with your shoulder making it slam more aggressively than you intended. What. A. Fucking. Day.
Later after having showered and changed into your comfort clothes you begin to burn with guilt. It wasn't König's fault your day was shit and you certainly didn't mean to take it out on him the way you did. The feeling was made to feel more intense by the fact you had a burning crush on him. Groaning, you rub your face with your hands when you hear him. You know it's him because only he has those heavy footsteps. Your head snaps in the direction of your front door as you listen, his footsteps are hurried. Like he doesn't want to run into you? Of course. You were an asshole to him for no reason! Then you hear the crisp shut of his door. Sighing you know you have to apologize especially were never one to shy away from your wrongdoings. Making your way to your door you open it as quietly as you can so not to draw anymore attention to yourself less the universe throws something else your way. You made your way to his door, each of your footsteps timid as your face began to burn hotter and hotter. Each encounter you've ever had with König always left you feeling frazzled in a way you weren't accustomed to. Taking a deep breath you raise your hand to knock on his door when you hear it, a moan? Curious and slightly concerned you lean your ear to the door to hear better and that's when you unmistakably hear König's voice albeit a bit more gruff “Show me how you play with it, show me” followed by a series of pants like he was in the throws of ecstasy. “That's a good girl, that's a good fucking girl” followed by a shaky moan. You pull yourself away from the door, mouth agape and breath shaky. You slowly back away before turning around and silently sprinting back to the safety of your apartment. Closing the door as quietly as possible. The walls were thin here but you never realized they were that thin. Your heart is pounding not just from the short sprint. Standing there you feel the desire burning in the pit of your belly. The desperate need for release forms quickly as your pussy begins to leak, your arousal soaking through your panties as you reflect on everything you just heard. Stripping out of your lounge shorts and panties you lay yourself down on the couch, spreading your legs.
You can feel your pussy lips parting exposing your cunt and slick to the air which makes you shiver slightly. Not just from the slight chill but the friction that causes your clit to throb. Closing your eyes you stroke your thigh softly before sliding up the side of your belly and down your public bone, slightly glazing your engorged, sensitive clit, to your wet hole. Your breath hitches as you push a finger into your warm, wet cunt. You wonder what his fingers would feel like. They were so large and his fingers thick. You imagine one of them would fill you to bursting. Slowly drawing your finger out causes you to jolt and moan lewdly. Hearing the squelching as your pussy tries to suck you back in. Taking the slick you gathered you begin to slowly rub your clit. “Show me how you play with it, show me” in that desperate lust filled tone rings through your head and you imagine König is there watching you rub yourself, chasing that blissful high. “That's a good girl, that's a good fucking girl” König's praise making you rub harder, faster. Feeling your hips buck in response, legs opening wider. You try and imagine König between your knees, his hands traveling down your outer thighs to grip your hips tightly. You work your bud in circles, the coil begins to tighten, breath shaky, muscles tensing. “Ko…. Oh God Ko. Please…” you whimper. Then there it is, the cork pops. You jolt and shake as your orgasm washes over you, bathing you in its warmth. “König!” You croak out, eyes flying open. You pant, feeling your hole spasming suddenly the fact he's not stuffed inside you makes you realize it wasn't enough. The desire is unsatisfied. You need König to fuck you senseless. You need to hear him praise you and your pussy. You need König. God, you need him. It started as a crush but now you've heard a snippet of what could be and now you need it all for yourself. All the shame you could have felt for accidentally eavesdropping on something private was gone, you don't care how lewd it makes you seem. You have needs, wants, desires. To be filed with his cum, to be utterly and totally his
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Has wormadam been reviewed yet?
(Mothim has already been done here.)
Burmy is a pretty fun concept. The line is based off bagworm caterpillars, which, as the name implies, build little cases around themselves using whatever materials they can find as a form of camouflage. Burmy's different cases don't affect anything at this stage, just changing depending on battle environment, but they come more into play with Wormadam later on.
Visually, I like the look of the different cases, but I find the body structure to be a bit weird, with a long structure coming off the top of the head and a vaguely beak-like mouth. It's one of those things where the body shapes start to become a bit too abstract for my taste.
autism creature
As for the cases, I find myself liking the sandy cloak form the best. The plant cloak is fine but lacks a clear structure, and the trash cloak looks nice but doesn't really read as trash (plus the fact that it's insulation raises questions, like how you're able to get this form in PLA).
Wormadam is female-only, which is accurate to actual bagworms; the females remain wingless after pupating and stay in their cases, while the males become winged moths.
I do like Wormadam's design a lot more than Burmy's. The head structure looks less odd, the long pointed beak works a lot better especially with how it pokes out over the top of the casing, and they don't have the weird "legs" that the plant and trash Burmys had. Between the three, the trash is nicest visually but still kind of struggles conceptually, while the plant is strongest overall.
Wormadam also expands on the line conceptually; the cloak is now a permanent part of their bodies, and influences what typing they become—grass for plant cloak, ground for sandy cloak, and steel for trash cloak. I feel like the steel typing's a little out of place for fiberglass installation, but then again I'm not sure what type would make sense other than normal or something.
This mechanic is my only real problem with Wormadam—the idea is that the cloak becomes part of their bodies, but it still looks like it's just inside of a cloak. I wish that this could've been reflected in the designs more, like making the cloak cover the entire body so only the eyes poke out or something. Not a huge deal, just something that might've helped it out conceptually.
Anyway, overall, some great concepts here with decent designs. I'd honestly like to see more forms in the future; now that the games are more open-world, it would be neat to get a snow cloak form after battling in a wintery environment or something.
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Toxic Tumblr Communities
Tumblr is a very interesting place. I feel like women have always dominated this website. While it's a great place for women to express themselves, it's obviously created a lot of really toxic communities that in all honestly could probably only be created by women. You know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about. You've got communities that normalize harmful behavior (self-harm, anorexia, drug taking) and communities that normalize harmful relationship dynamics (the teacher crush and true crime communities, the ddlg community, the kink community in general, etc.), all kinds of different shit. I won't deny that these are all really harmful in their own ways. BUT I can't stand the way many people talk about them.
It's not uncommon for people to make YouTube videos talking about these communities, and totally eviscerating the posters without showing a single shred of empathy, despite most of the posters being depressed, isolated, and traumatized teen girls.
When it comes to the communities that revolve around toxic behavior, I kind of hate how the posters are treated as if it is their fault and their fault alone for other people picking up on the behaviors. If someone looks at thinspo or a SH picture and is like "YES I want that!" did the post directly create those feelings? Or maybe JUST MAYBE the person viewing the post was already mentally ill and now they just become encouraged to be a part of a community with people they relate to? Also I kinda hate how people accuse these posters of "romanticizing" the things that they do, I really don't think it's true most of the time. I think what happens is that women are conditioned into always wanting to appear beautiful, and so they want even their pain to be beautiful. Which is why they then write "sadgirl" poetry about cutting or whatever. I also think it's a coping mechanism. If you're going through something difficult, the least you can do is be poetic about it. I also think that a lot of the times it's a cry for help. It's common to make fun of the emo girl who cuts for attention but even if it's for attention she's still hurting herself.
There are also communities that "romanticize" bad relationship dynamics. When it comes to the teacher crush community, I honestly don't think it deserves the hatred it gets. 99% of the posters have no plans to actually get with their teachers. In YouTube videos about this community, they often respond to the rare posts where underage girls gush about how their high school teacher reciprocates their love. The YouTubers blame the girl for posting about the situation and "romanticizing" it, rather than blaming the fucking adult male for taking advantage of a high schooler. It's abhorrent and I can't stand it.
The true crime community is less defensible, but even then, most of the girls do not support violence, it's more so a fantasy of being able to fix a evil man. And I honestly think it's reflective of the way society tells women and girls that they are responsible for men's feelings and actions, even the very worst of them. And pretty much all the posters are either depressed and isolated teen girls or 30-something year old women who have a history of dating violent and abusive men. When people criticize this community, there's something about the way they do it that's almost victim-blamey, idk. I won't act like what they're doing isn't harmful to the victims, but people act as if drawing the Columbine dudes being yaoi boyfriends or whatever is just as bad as the fucking shooting itself.
And the ddlg community on here mainly seems to be fronted by "littles" who roleplay as underage children having sex with their parents. Again, this is a baddd thing to be encouraging, even if it's through role-play. But I HATE how people act like pretending to be the little is the same as pretending to be the adult. All these girls are fantasizing about roleplaying sexual abuse and idk about you but they really do seem like victims to me. This is not a pass for them to promote harmful behavior but again I just hate the double standards. These people are turned on by being victimized and people somehow don't feel any sympathy for them. They act as if it's the EXACT SAME as being turned on by victimizing others.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I HATE how the standards for women are so much higher than they are for men. Women will post about the pain they are causing themselves, and society gets angry with them for daring to be upfront about it and/or trying to make it seem "beautiful". Women will post about how they want to be victimized, and society gets angry at them for promoting toxic relationships, while not offering them a shred of empathy and asking WHY they want that.
Idk I have a lot of thoughts on this. I'm not saying these girls are completely blameless and I really don't want it to be interpreted that way, but it's crazy to me the way people act like they are heinous and evil (and not like, victims of patriarchal conditioning) for romanticizing situations where they would be victimized.
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