Headcanon that J completely ignores the gender binary and gets bruce to buy him ALL the pretty dresses and skirts and makeup and jewellery, as well as fancy suits and nerdy shirts and colourful waistcoats and expensive hair gel
- The joker in an acid green cocktail dress with matching stilettos
- J at a Wayne charity gala in a violet mermaid dress and diamond-smothered bracelets, not giving a fuck about the opinions of the rest of the guests
- J in a nurses costume oh wait that already happened in canon
- the clown hanging around Wayne Manor in a mint green tennis skirt that clashes horribly with his orange blouse, helping the batkids with homework and giving Stephanie make up advice
Since Peeta had thrown caution out the window and kissed Katniss that day in her classroom, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else. He dreamt of it at night, thought about it during class time when he should have been focused on teaching. But only when he was alone did he allow his mind to be consumed by more than kissing. And it went wild.
What was the rule again for sex? It had been so long since he’d needed to know. Was it three dates or five, he wondered. Ten? God, he hoped not.
They’d taken things very slowly since then, and that was a big part of Peeta’s problem. He had a new vibrant, young, incredibly attractive girlfriend, but there hadn’t been time for more than a few stolen kisses on their breaks now that Peeta was coaching an outside soccer league with games on the weekends and Katniss was helping the music department get ready for the spring program after school. They rarely saw each other in private due to their crazy schedules and they were already several weeks into the relationship, but they only had a few dates under their belts.
For the first month there hadn’t been a lunch they hadn’t shared, or a night they hadn’t talked on the phone until the wee hours of morning. He hadn’t run on three hours of sleep since college, but being with Katniss made him feel like a teenager again.
Peeta had been thankful at first so that he could sort out his feelings about their age difference - fifteen years was a lot to get over. But now that he’d gotten used to it he found himself wanting more. The conversations they had during their respective conference periods were amazing and with every word he fell harder for Katniss. But if he had to go another hour without being able to touch someplace other than her arm or hold something besides her hand, he was going to physically explode. Which was why he was avoiding her today.
Summary: Based in the 1940′s at the height of the Second World War in London, England. One night, during an air raid, you meet a young man who introduces himself as Thomas Holland.
Warnings: Mentions of war, and bombs. Also Julius Caesar being stabbed. But fluff and a very lovely Tom.
A/N: I’ve always loved the idea of a 40′s era Tom. I was thinking of making this a series but it would be very long break between parts due to school. Let me know what you think!
You held onto your little brother’s hand as you and your family rushed down the stairs of the London Underground. Your heels clicked quickly as you followed your mother who was holding blankets and a picnic basket full of family memories, snack, and newspapers for the long night ahead; your father rushed beside her, holding your baby sister in his arms as he searched for an empty spot that your family could stay safe for the night. He nodded further down the underground, your mother looking back to look you in the eye. You nodded as you rushed among the people, pushes being pushed and a shove or two hitting your shoulder.
“We’ll settle here, make yourselves comfortable. This will be quite a long night.” Your father said softly, but with a stern undertone. You nodded and helped your mother spread out blankets before laying your brother down for him to get some sleep. The cold underground sent a shiver up your spine, and the shaking structure and flickering lights made you cringe. Sirens range as you sat yourself down, your back leaning against the cold wall.
This had become a normal occurrence over the past months. At least once or twice a week your family made their way from the flat you lived in to the London Underground to protect yourselves from the bombs that flew above. Your family a long with most of London, you should say. Families crowded together, young and old, conversing as a way to pass the time. And then, when the all clear was sounded, you would all pack your things and make your way back to your homes. And the unsureness of whether your home would still be intact or not was enough to make you go crazy, but add the loud bangs and flickering light, it was almost too much to bear. So you always settled down beside your family with a newspaper word puzzle and pencil to keep your mind focused on other things.
Families continued to rush in but you kept your mind focused on your puzzle, marking down words that seemed correct. Someone sat down closely to you, a man’s voice speaking softly before a some whimper rresponded sadly and an older woman’s voice made a comment back. You didn’t mind, seeing as space was limited and no one should be left out in these circumstances. So you continued on with your puzzle, every so often looking towards your parents who would look back at you and send a small, uneasy smile. You decided to ask your father’s advice on an answer for this word on the puzzle.
“Father, who was the Roman politician that was assassinated?” Your father looked up at you from his own newspaper and pondered for a moment, it was a simple answer that he knew was in his mind somewhere but too much was running through it to clear it for this question. He took off his glasses and peered at you, his blond eyebrows furrowing as he thought.
“I can’t seem to remember, it’s right on the tip of my tongue though, I’m sorry darling.” He said as he put his glasses back on. You smiled at his mannerisms, thankful that he hadn’t decided to enlist yet, but the day was soon to come and you knew it. “No worries,” you said as you looked back at the paper in front of you, the lights flickering off and on once more before you moved on to the next word.
A voice from your right said as another loud boom echoed through the underground, a light squeak left your mouth as you made eye contact with the stranger. His eyes filled with concern, but he quickly sent you a small smile, “Sorry to frighten you.”
“Oh no, it wasn’t you! It was the-”
“Julius Caesar was a great Roman politician and general who led Rome to it’s rise, he was also assassinated by his Senate and stabbed twenty-three times.” The young man said as he took your newspaper and pencil lightly, before etching in the name. You smiled at him gratefully, thankful for the dim lights as a blush cascaded over your cheeks. He smiled at you too, white teeth shining and crinkles scrunched beside his eyes.
“I’m Thomas Holland, but you can call me Tom.” He held his hand out for you to take, which you did, only from his lips to press firmly to your knuckles as his eyes peered up at you.
“My name’s (y/n) (l/n), but I’m just (y/n).” You said as he pulled away from your hand. He moved a little closer to you as he gave you back your newspaper and pencil.
He was very handsome. Dark hair was smooth back, and brown eyes looked at you lightly. His chiseled face was soft, with light freckles ghosting his cheeks but so light that you almost didn’t notice them. He was clad in light trousers and a button-up under his thick sweater with a tie peeking out from under it. Next to him was a small dog, a jacket draped over it loosely as it slept. The woman you were guessing was his mother leaned against the wall, her hand covering the small ones ears as herself slept soundly.
“The next one is cinema.” He said after looking up from glancing over your own family. You chuckled quietly as to not wake your younger siblings, moving one of your loose curls behind your ear. He let our his own laugh, watching you as you closed your eyes and your fingers moved your (y/h/c) locks.
He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he was mesmerized by you since the moment he saw your sitting there in your navy skirt and burnt orange blouse. Your (y/e/c) eyes had captured him since the moment they landed on his own, and your light hand felt dainty in his own.
“Thank you, Tom. I very much appreciate the help.” Your voice sounded as light as a feather to him, and the flickering light made your round cheeks illuminate as you blushed. He smirked at you and nodded his head slowly, almost as if he was bowing to you. You chuckled again, your mind far away from the bombs outside or the sirens screeching dully.
“I’m at your service, darling.” He said softly as he smiled at you calmly. As soon as the smile appeared on his lips, another bombs landed even closer than the last one. The Earth seemed to shake fiercely, the lights turning off quickly leaving you in total darkness. You let out another yelp like before, but this time your felt warm hands reach out and grab yours, thumbs circling your knuckles as a way to calm you. You blushed at the close proximity that you knew you were to Tom, feeling his body heat radiating on you.
The lights stayed off long after the bomb explosion, Tom’s hands staying on yours. The underground was dead silent as the though rushed through everyone’s head, “The world is going to end soon, it just has to be ending.”
“(y/n),” Tom whispered as he listened to your rapid puffs of air, “Calm down, love. It’s alright. We’re alright.” His whispers coaxed you from your thoughts, your eyes coming to meet his in the darkness. By then a couple of families had turned on lamps to keep their anxious children at bay; so when you looked at the boy in front of you, you were able to see his eyes clearly.
The hands in your lap were still pressed together, Tom’s still reaching out to hold yours, “I’m alright, I’m alright.” You said as you smirked at him, mostly trying to convince him that this was a normal occurrence. He smirked back at you, taking his hands back and running one through his hair.
“We‘re alright.” He sighed out as the dim lights flicked back on, a longing smile left on his lips before the two of your joined each other in a soft giggle.
Request: Hello beautiful!! You’re so Pretty, your Video gave me so much hope as, when i was 6 I got diabetes and it was diagnosed to late and I lost a big ability to walk and slowly got it back and your Video makes me to cry Also maybe you can do a Evil!Barry where you guys are in a fight (superhero kind) tell him youre pregnant and he stops everything and leaves you alone and one day he asks you to dinner and find out the babys his from somthing thst happen a while back Well goodbye Baby!!
a/n: first of all, thank you!!! SECOND IM SO PROUD!!
“Come on, where’s the fun, doll?” Barry smirks, crossing his arms over his tight fitting maroon t-shirt, leaning against a post of a street light. The toe of his shiny black Supra’s hits the ground, legs making a abstract triangle. “The least you can do is fight back!” he says, exasperated, bending over.
Fire sparks from your fingers on and off and you groan, throwing your head back. Okay, first of all, you didn’t even want to get in your suit in the first place! Second, Barry Allen just wants to push your buttons. No. Not today. “Look, I’m not in the mood to play right now, got me?” you snap, slowly walking towards the speedster.
Huh. Your voice is…different. Barry didn’t catch any hint of the usual flirting. The two of you always flirt! “What’s got your panties in a twist?” the brunette scoffs, pushing himself up straight. He shoves his hands in the back pockets of his ripped blue skinny jeans.
Oh. Oh, that is it! “I’m pregnant, you fucking asshole!” you scream, catching Barry by surprise. His bright lime green eyes an inch and unexpectedly, he flashes off, leaving you standing alone. Does he…no, he can’t possibly know. It was only a one, okay tw- three… a three time thing…
Leave it to The Flash to lead you to a fucking safe house…again. Rubbing your growing stomach through your flowy orange blouse, you cautiously step into the small building. “Barry?” you whisper, craning your neck to gaze around his ‘house’. Swallowing, you continue to waddle in, hoping to find a couch…or a chair.
“It’s mine, isn’t it? Comes his dark voice from the corner of the room. His back is towards you and you can make out his muscles through his silky black dress shirt. “Wasn’t hard to figure out.” he sighs, hands tinkering with something in front of him.
You huff a breath out, biting your lip. “Yes, she’s yours, Barry.” you confirm, shifting on your feet. “Why am I here? Obviously we can’t fuck, so what do you want? My back is killing me.” A hiss escapes you and you grab your lower back. “Barry, please, I want to sit…”
The brunette spins around, smirking. “Well, sit.” he rolls his mossy green eyes, retying the red apron above his waistband. It flares out against his skinny black jeans, stopping mid thigh. “I even made dinner. Yes, made. Didn’t steal…well, this time. “ he mocks, smirking while he pulls out a chair.
Hesitantly, you sit down, sending him a little half smile. “What’s your angle here?” you tease, placing the napkin on your lap.
Laughing, Barry takes a seat across from you, shaking his head. “No angle. Just Barry and Y/N. No good, no evil.” he purrs, unwrapping the meal, “I just…want to be there. For both of you.” His green eyes sparkle at you, lips in a faint grin. Maybe Barry will be a good dad.
X FILES AU: Enjolras, steadfast believer, and Grantaire, the inveterate skeptic assigned to monitor him, team up to investigate the mysterious disappearance of Cosette’s long-lost mother. Together they uncover a vast conspiracy designed to conceal from the general public the existence of a floating sky city that the government is trying to quietly track down and invade…
Could I get 2 with 2D? Because lord that poor boy and his mom jeans
Also for the other Anon who also wanted 2 with 2D xx
2. “Why on earth are you wearing that?”
You were sitting in one of the chairs of the clothing store, waiting for Stu to come out of the dressing rooms. Your phone had died along the way, so you were practically staring at the ceiling. 2D was “the ultimate woman” while going shopping. It could seriously take hours sometimes to just be in one store and you thought it was kinda funny. The curtains flew open and you looked at him while lying kind up side down. 2D started laughing by the position you were sitting/lying in, but you started to laugh harder by the sight of him. He wore big mom jeans in this bright blue color and he wore a neon orange blouse.
“Why on earth are you wearing that?” you asked, as you sat up straight. 2D his smile faded a bit and you felt bad right away.
‘Aren’t those from the women apartment?’ you asked as you pointed at his pants. 2D stood awkwardly in his dressing room and you stood up to stand in front of him.
‘I thought it would look nice,’ he whispered, so that only you could hear it. ‘I want to wear it when we are going on tour again. So that everyone can see that it is totally fine to wear women’s clothes.’
You sighed and pressed a kiss against his lips.
‘It looks great on you 2D, I am sorry,’ you said. ‘I just was expecting some more skin to show.’ A cheeky grin grew on your face when you unbuttoned two buttons on his blouse and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. His face turned bright red and he mumbled something you couldn’t understand.
‘Damnit Y/N,’ he whispered as he looked around nervously. ‘Not here.’ You laughed and took and sat down back in your chair.
‘You can pull of anything Stu,’ you said. ‘You could stand her in a dress with holes in it, with a neon yellow wig on and bad make-up. And you will still look more beautiful then me.’
2D walked over to you and placed a kiss on your lips. He let his hand go in to your hair and pulled you further in for the kiss and once he let go, you were almost out of breath.
‘2D you cheeky boy’ you grinned but he looked dead serious at you.
‘I could never be more beautiful then you,’ he said. ‘Never forget, okay.’
You turned red and nodded softly. He smiled at you and placed a quick kiss on your temple, before he went back in to his dressing room and left you blushing in your chair.
I’ve been on a bit of a Patti Lupone kick this year, as my reviews of War Paint probably showed, so I decided to take a look at a few of the costumes from her Tony-winning turn as Mama Rose in the 2008 revival of the musical Gypsy: A Musical Fable. I’m focusing on just the Mama Rose costumes this afternoon because I think that they deserve special attention, but in the future, I think I will go back and take a look at the other costumes.
Gypsy’srevival was costumed by the late Martin Pakledinaz, best known for his Tony Award-winning costumes in Thoroughly Modern Millie and the 2000-era revival of Kiss Me, Kate. Mr. Pakledinaz did a fantastic job capturing the original feel of the musical while still managing to infuse the dramatic, overbearing Rose character with rich, beautiful colors.
For those unfamiliar with the musical, Gypsy is the story of Rose Thompson Hovick, the mother to burlesque pioneer Gypsy Rose Lee (from whom the musical takes its title) and the very definition of a stage mother. You think the moms on Dance Moms or other reality shows are a little crazy? They’ve got nothing on Mama Rose. Take a read through Gypsy: A Memoir if you ever have the time or inclination. A dear friend of mine from college did her capstone on the influence of Gypsy Rose Lee on burlesque as an art form, and the story of her is absolutely fascinating, especially the domineering nature of her mother.
The role of Rose was originated on Broadway by a woman whose name is synonymous with theatre stardom, Ethel Merman, and has been since played on stage in New York by Dame Angela Lansbury (who won the 1975 Tony for her performance), Tyne Daly (who won the 1990 Tony for her performance), Bernadette Peters, Patti Lupone (whose revival is the subject of the review, and who won the 2008 Tony for her performance), and will be once again revived by Imelda Staunton in 2018 following a wildly successful West End revival. In other words, this is a role that commands an actress with power and the ability to belt out a melody that will be heard in the rafters. And any role that demanding deserves costumes that match. Let’s take a look:
The musical as a whole is set in the 1920s and 1930s, and follows a family of vaudevillians as they try and make it big, led by the domineering and overbearing Mama Rose. As a result, the costumes that Mr. Pakledinaz designed tend to be dramatic and showy, a little risqué, and intended to wow the audience without overpowering the character or actress (though, frankly, I’m not sure one can overpower Patti Lupone).
This first number is in a color palate I haven’t looked at much before, which is the golds and browns families. Typically, a designer will not mix two different patterns in fabric, but on occasion there can be a very good reason for doing so. Here, Mama Rose is wearing a brown-and-white checked jacket over a gold, orange, and white blouse and a slightly softer orange skirt. The overall effect that’s given off is one of the character being a bit off, like there’s something that isn’t quite right or expected about who and what they are. But that’s not a flaw in the costume design; it’s a feature in my book given that the musical follows Rose’s journey into losing everything–family included–in her quest for fame-by-proxy.
The color choices add to that overall effect, I think. Later in the musical, the palate Mr. Pakledinaz uses gets a bit darker and more muted, but here, it’s almost manic, clashing just a little bit without being unpleasing to the eye. The clash in the dual geometric patterns draws the eye, especially in comparison to the much plainer designs given to the supporting characters in this scene and in others. Clearly, this is where the attention should be, words or music be darned, and it’s a great effect. And, as I said, it’s not unpleasing to the eye. It’s just unusual.
I find that when I mention Gypsy to a person who isn’t a theatre fan, they don’t necessarily know what I’m talking about. But bring up the manic, show-stopping number “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” the light of recognition tends to cross their faces. In part, that’s because this is one of those showtunes that managed to get into the public mind because it’s a great phrase, and because of Bette Midler’s performance as Mama Rose in a mid-1990s television version of the musical. For those who might not know it, let me give you a taste of this number and why the costume gets some special attention in this post, with this clip of Patti Lupone performing it at the 2008 Tony Awards ceremony; the dialogue is important, but if you want to skip right to the music, it starts at the 1:12 mark:
This number closes the first Act of the musical, as Rose’s younger daughter June has eloped and left her stage-obsessed mother behind. The family (including older daughter Louise, the titular Gypsy, and Mama’s fiancé Herbie) believe that this will finally compel Mama Rose to give up her obsession with making it big and let them settle down. Instead, in the blink of an eye, Mama Rose transfers her dreams from one daughter to another in a show-stopping number that is as manic as it is memorable.
For this number, Mr. Pakledinaz has costumed Patti Lupone in a number of layers that can be seen both in the clip above and in this still from the stage production itself; it’s far more somber than the piece which started out this review, and that reflects that despite the new plan to make Louise into Gypsy Rose Lee, the character of Mama Rose is still in a darker place herself and is now clinging to one last hope of stardom. In full, the costume looks like this:
The coat she wears at the train station in this scene is a rich, deep maroon purple that almost drinks up the shadows while providing a contrast to the Mr Lupone’s skin as it’s illuminated by the stage lights. The fabric is heavy and woolen in a rare exception to the general rule that you avoid heavy fabrics in live theatre (even when the setting requires it), and I think you can read a little metaphor into it: the character is literally being weighed down by keeping out the cold, the way she is figuratively weighed down by her dreams of stardom even if it’s only by proxy.
Beneath that is a gorgeous blue dress with a cream scarf/collar that, unfortunately, has not been photographed much in the right lighting. I was, however, able to find one still that offered a little more perspective on it, however:
As you can somewhat see, the dress underneath the maroon coat is blue, with a wild and Bohemian paisley and swirled pattern that is alive with color, busy, and designed to catch the eye. As with Mama herself, a simple exterior embodied by the coat gives way to a much more complex interior, as embodied by this dress. The blue manages to not fade into the background thanks to the coat acting as a barrier, and I like the addition of the scarf/collar itself as a way to lighten up the whole ensemble, as well as to draw the eye down to the skirt; in the theatre, I do believe it would be much easier to see the pattern, at least from center orchestra.
The scarf/collar combination itself is a gridded white chiffon, as seen in this closeup which also lets us look at the dress’ hem in a tiny bit more detail:
More of a cream than a pure white, it’s there to provide covering on the bust as well as to lighten the ensemble, as I stated. It does that job well, and the use of a rougher fabric design as compared to the smoothness of the dress itself is a wise one. It adds just a little bit more contrast when viewed up close, and I like that. We can also see the Bohemian influence in the hem of the dress, with the somewhat funky and rule-less design in blues and oranges.
The final costume that Ms Lupone is outfitted in during the 2008 revival is also her simplest of the production, but that in no way makes it less impressive. As the show winds down, the 11 o’clock number, “Rose’s Turn,” represents Mama Rose coming to grips with the idea that not only will she never make it big, but that she’s lost everyone she might have cared about: June (the daughter who eloped), Louise (Gypsy Rose), and Herbie (Rose’s fiancé). She tries hard in this number to justify everything she’s done, and finally admits that it was all about her in the end. It’s a sad, powerful, memorable number and it has a costume to match:
The giant ROSE in lights is in fact part of the production; part of the sequence for this number is Rose fantasizing about seeing her own name up in lights and hearing the crowds applauding and cheering her name. But as she fantasized, she’s outfitted pretty plainly. The deep, burnt red that she wears here is far different from the manic pattern of the blue dress from the end of Act I. Instead, it is simple, cleanly cut, and even makes the character seem a bit small on the darkness of the stage. That’s obviously intentional: the designer wants the focus to be on this character, and this character alone, with no design elements to distract. The color has to do the work, not the costume.
The A-line cut of the dress, interrupted only by a band of satiny or silky fabric at the waste, is classical and believable as simply a dress that a woman in Mama Rose’s station would own and wear. The plainness is once again a feature rather than a bug: there is nothing to distract from the character, from the words, from the music. There is simply the deep red color against the blackness of the character’s fantasy, and the audience is left–in my opinion–a little bit haunted by the overall effect.
Mama Rose is one of the most challenging roles on Broadway, not only because of the need for belting vocals and a powerful voice, but because of the personality of the character. There is a reason, I think, that only the Broadway Greats have been cast in the role throughout the musical’s history; Merman, Lansbury, Lupone, all are the definition of a leading lady, and have been costumed to fit the part. For the 2008 revival, I think the choice of colors and styles was absolutely spot on, and the Tony nomination for Mr. Pakledinaz was well-deserved.
Gypsy is a fantastic musical that drips with classic Broadway style and flair, not to mention costuming. I highly recommend it as an entrée into the world of musical theatre, and especially recommend the 2008 recording of the production. Treat your ears to the show-stopping, powerful, bittersweet melodies and enjoy it for what it is: beautiful theatre.
That wraps up this review of the 2008 revival of Gypsy. As I said, I may come back to look at some more of Mr. Pakledinaz’s designs for this production later on this year; there certainly is a lot to work with. On a personal note, this was the last production that I was able to enjoy before I took my hiatus from the theatre fandom, and it’s one that has always left fond memories in my mind. It’s worth looking into!
Later on this week, I’ll be posting some more full reviews and have a couple mini-reviews queued up. So stay tuned, dear readers!
Edit: A kindly Anon noticed that I had inadvertently reversed the birth order for Louise and June; June is, by a year, the younger of the two daughters, and this post has been updated accordingly!
Alya had been so careful with her money, she swore she had. Write an article here for her paper, put some it away for emergencies, even cut down on groceries by grabbing some enough leftovers from her mother’s workplace to last a week or so. She had been managing it so closely and so efficiently that her friends joked she could start a class on financing. The idea had been ridiculous at the time and yet…
It wasn’t that she was scrapped for cash but it wasn’t like her job paid her that much for her talents either. What Alya needed was a boost to her wallet. She had made a list and checked it twice but none of them seemed viable at 23. That’s how she ended up sitting in a large booth with her friends from lycée. To her left sat her best friend, the girl she most likely considered her soulmate, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. To her right sat Alix Kubdel, followed by Juleka and Rose Couffaine-Lavilliant, Myléne Bruel-Harpele, and Lila Rossi.
“Why not just move in with Nino?” Marinette asked innocently enough. Alya caught the hesitation in her voice though.
“We can’t all live with our high school sweethearts,” She teased as she threw mock glare at Marinette’s direction. She then turned it on Myléne (who looked away sheepishly) as well as Juleka and Rose (who both merely smiled a little smugly).“Besides, as much as I adore the guy, things would just be too weird.”
- Beverly loves doing the Losers makeup - She pinches Bens cheeks ALL the time - She’s a sucker for hand holding - She is TOTALLY in LOVE with wine red lipstick - She gives Ben a kiss on his cheek leaving a print everytime she applies more lipstick - She re-applies lipstick a lot - She ROCKS reds and orange blouses and dresses !!!! you go boo!!!!! - She leans on Ben and snuggles up to him a lot - She lays on his lap and he’ll play with her hair - She LOVES it - She tickles Eddie with Richie - Whenever she hangs out with Bill Ben gets SOOO JELLY!!!!!!!! - She finds it super cute - She loves to hang out with Mike probably the most besides Ben - She loves the sheep at Mikes barn - Totally didn’t name one of Mike’s sheep - defiantly not all of them - She has super soft hands not as soft as Eddie’s but soft - Her nails are always painted purple/orange/red/pink or yellow - She loves Georgie a lot - Georgie calls her his girlfriend - She loves it - Georgie doesn’t know what it means and he told her that he just likes to have a special name for her - She made a piano tune for the poem Ben wrote for her - Her and Ben aren’t officially together - They totally are - She showed Ben the tune she wrote for it - Ben hugged her for about 5 minutes and they had their first kiss then - She loves the poem he wrote her like !!! !!!!!! !!!! !!!! !! !!!! !! !!!!!!!!! !! !!! !!!!! - Her and Richie are best friends - Smoke buddies as well - She helps Richie with his crush on Eddie - She beats Gretta up - Eddie and Richie cheer her on - Stan always asks why she is Richies best friend - She always responds with “because he his” - She scoffs after it too - She gives Georgie piggy back rides all the time Add more onto it if you want