want me to break your fingers? no? don’t fucking touch me then

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@lollymocks
want me to break your fingers? no? don’t fucking touch me then
( tw slut-shaming )
the alabama sun is high in the sky and the heat rises off the black tar pavement in waves. birdie sits on the curb of the sidewalk, her knees tucked together, her feet askew on the ground. if her mama could see her now — the lord would hope to hear her prayer. her lips are cherry red and her tongue darts out of her mouth to take long swipes at the ice pop in her hand. the popsicle is half-melted, its juice running down her hand in sticky pink lines. she looks a mess — except, really, she doesn’t. she looks like she’s happy more than anything else.
“ i’m just sayin’, babydoll, it’s gonna be a fun time, but you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. ” the inflection of her voice rises at the end. her tone is condescending ; her tone is challenging. she doesn’t mean it to be. it’s just how she talks.
her friend kiersten stands in front of her rocking backwards on her heels, her hands tucked in the pocket of her jumper.. “ bird, i just --- it ain’t you. you know i’d follow you to the end of the world, but word has it cameron is gonna be there and i don’t think he’d take too kindly to seein’ me there. ”
there’s a glint in birdie’s eye. “ why not ? you’ve done nothing wrong. “
kiersten shakes her head. “ he’s still mad about me standing him up and i know --- “
“ he’s a dirty cheating jerk who deserved what he got. tell me i’m wrong. ” she’s stood up at this point, dropping the popsicle stick to the ground. her thighs have tiny pieces of gravel sticking to the backs of them. “ c’mon, tell me i’m wrong. “ she folds her arms across her chest
“ i can’t. “
“ then we’re gonna march in there arm in arm, dance the night away, and show him what he’s missing. you weren’t crowned miss blue bonnet over me for nothing, “ she shoots a wink at her friend before reaching a hand out. she laces their fingers together, her skin still sticky. “ i told you this summer is about you. ain’t no dumb boy gonna mess this up for us. “
finally, a small smile rises to kiersten’s face. “ just for you, bird. ”
hand in hand, they walk inside. they have a party to get ready for.
---
the party should be fun. the two-story mansion is lit up bright white and they can feel the ground shaking from the vibration of the music the moment they turn onto the drive. there’s a ferrari parked out front and a couple is making out on the hood of a porsche behind it. inside, bodies are everywhere. it’s obscene the amount of kids there. there’s art on the wall, priceless and precious, and statues of marble and porcelain lining the halls. the kids there themselves are modern art. they’re in perfectly-tailored clothing ; their make-up costs thousands. glitter on eyes and cheeks sparkles under the light. corners of lips are upturned. heels of louboutins and leather shoes hit the tile with a resonating sound. people are dancing, people are talking. somewhere in the back, people are snorting white powder with a one hundred dollar bill and a black card.
this is the sort of place birdie normally thrives, but the party does not end up being fun.
it’s a quarter past midnight and --- at this point --- birdie is fed up. she’s angry and drunk but mostly she’s angry. kiersten is tucked under her arm, crying, and she’s whispering soft words in her friend’s ear to try and ease her tears. she can’t believe how the night turned out. they were having fun ; they were dancing and singing along to the music, losing themselves to the music. it was fun and distracting --- just what the pair needed to enjoy themselves. of course, it was, just up until a boy bumped into the pair on purpose. he coughed “ slut “ at kiersten before bursting into laughter and walking away.
birdie saw red. she is still seeing red, but her first priority is calming her friend down. it takes a few minutes, and another shot tipped back through her tears, but finally kiersten’s shoulders stop shaking and her breathing evens.
“ did you know him ? ”
with a sniffle, kiersten replies in the affirmative. he’s a friend of cameron’s.
“ i’ll be right back. “
she grabs two martini glasses, one in each hand, off of the tray someone is holding. she brings one to her lips, tipping it back quickly. it’s a little mental reassurance. she looks down at the second, nods to herself, and grabs another before she walks to the other side of the room where a group of boys are standing. they see her approach and they start laughing. this only fuels the flame in her.
“ cameron ? ” her head tilts to the side, an easy smile playing on her lips.
one of the group nods. “ that’s me. what’s it to you ? ”
she takes a step closer, her voice is a coo. “ i just want to give you something. ”
he looks to his friends and laughs again. “ yeah ? what is it ? ”
she closes the gap between them, and leans in close. then, she tips the first martini glass over his head. “ that’s for kiersten. ”
he shouts as she pops the olive out of second glass and into her mouth. she chews it briefly before dumping the second on him. “ that’s because i felt like it. ”
he’s cursing and yelling obscenities at her. he screams about a drycleaning bill for a cashmere sweater. someone mentions that the carpet’s going to stain. it doesn’t matter, though. birdie turned on her heels, her chin raised high. she walks back over to kiersten whose eyes are wide.
“ i think it’s time we left. ”
GENERAL
name: beatrice rose galloway-klein nickname: birdie age: twenty birthday: february 13th, 1999 birthplace: paris, france hometown: montgomery, alabama spoken languages: english, french, italian sexual orientation: pansexual occupation: heiress
APPEARANCE
eye color: brown hair color: brown height: 5’8 scars: skinned knees
FAVOURITE
color: olive green and candy apple red entertainment: movie nights, partying, dancing pastime: reading, listening to music, going to rallies drink: water, manhattans book: romance novels
HAVE THEY
passed university: no, enrolled had sex: yes kissed a man: yes kissed a woman: yes gotten tattoos: no gotten piercings: yes, her ears had a broken heart: yes been in love: yes stayed up for more than 24 hours: more than once !
ARE THEY
a virgin: no a cuddler: yes a kisser: yes a smoker: no scared easily: yes jealous easily: yes trustworthy: yes, cross her heart and hope to die
FAMILY
sibling(s): none parents: benjamin klein and ellery klein née galloway children: no pets: a siamese cat named quentin
friendly reminder that it is totally okay to be against feminism
hmm…..no……no it isn’t……
i would much rather be the “obnoxious feminist girl” than be complicit in my own dehumanization, thanks
klefable:
“but feminism makes men uncomfortable sometimes"
good
if u wanna date me I hope u like excessive swearing and long talks about feminism
honestly i think the only reason being a hoe is considered a bad thing is that it implies that men are replaceable to you and it hurts their feelings so they put you down for it
Shots are raining down from the heavens
about me
I believe in body positivity, feminism, and always using your turn signal.
// F E M I N I S T //
There’s nothing like being around girls who are uplifting, all that feminine energy is really a safe haven for me. Seek refuge and power from your girls, provide refuge and power for your girls.