#POMPOMSTM ; a private portrayal of stacy wright, affiliated with @gonighthawks. ( sideblog to hatchetsdown ). penned by emily ( 33, est ).
001. biography. 002. snapshots. 003. headcanons.

titsay
One Nice Bug Per Day

blake kathryn
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Acquired Stardust

Kaledo Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Keni
occasionally subtle
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.

Origami Around
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Türkiye
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seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

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@pompomstm
#POMPOMSTM ; a private portrayal of stacy wright, affiliated with @gonighthawks. ( sideblog to hatchetsdown ). penned by emily ( 33, est ).
001. biography. 002. snapshots. 003. headcanons.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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open starter location: miss retro's diner, galentine's day brunch
Stacy's bouncing on her heels as she enters the diner, smile wide and earnest. She's already a regular of the old fashioned restaurant -- on top of being obsessed with the owner, her best friend in the entire world works here. And, with a wave, she greets Brenda, slinking to her usual spot at the end of the counter with ease.
She's quick to shrug out of her coat, letting it hang over the back of her chair, and Stacy leans forward comfortably. Truth be told? She loves Valentine's Day. Despite the fact that she's never really had a relationship that lasts long enough to celebrate, the atmosphere -- and the feeling of being surrounded by love -- is all encompassing. In fact, she's nearly beaming with it as she flags down a waiter, orders her usual chocolate malt milkshake with a flourish.
girl enamoured with the praise, cheeks flushing ever - so - slightly, but barely noticeable with how RED they already were. though it couldn't all be put down to a natural aptitude: just ask her brother and mother about the HOURS of practice, they were surely fed up of the thudding coming from her room at all hours. anything for the team. smile remains across lips as arms circle her knees, not used to such compliments. not used to any of this. “ thank you. ” so quiet, shy almost. “ nonono! you guys didn't make me feel like that at all, HONEST. ” face scrunching up momentarily, she hoped they didn't think she hated them. if anything it was the opposite. “ i'm having so much fun here. even if i look like a TOMATO after every practice. ” a hasty laugh, looking over at the girl next to her, at how PERFECT she still looked after everything. ( she needed to find out how that was possible. and fast. ) “ she really is! like, that whole routine is gonna look amazing, they won't know what's hit them. ” especially when it was all POLISHED and perfect. “ are we gonna learn any more of your routines next practice? ”
Relief rushes through her when Bonnie assures Stacy that she's fine. She sometimes worries about pushing the new recruits too hard -- her love and passion for dance is evident, but not everyone feels the same way she does. And that's fine! Moderation is key, after all, and Stacy tries to remember that with every routine she teaches. (It's easy to forget, though, when she's in the moment.) So, her shoulders sag, and Stacy's grin grows at Bonnie's words. "Okay, thank God," she laughs, chuckling to herself. "I never wanna push anyone too hard, or like -- I dunno, make people feel bad. I've been dancing since I was a kid, so it comes naturally to me," she explains. "But everyone can learn! And you're doing a really good job, Bonnie. Honest."
Her sneakers squeak as she stands up, collects her things into her duffel bag. A quick snap of her water bottle lets her take a sip, replenishing herself with relief. "Do you need a ride home, by the way?" She asks, capping the bottle and tossing it into her open bag. "I was gonna stop for something to eat on my way home, anyways, so we could make it a fun adventure."
Richie wasn't unfamiliar with getting lost within the shelves. The tunnel vision of searching for a specific book, or author, and the fact everyone kept so quiet meant you were bound to bump into something, or someone. The amount of times the teen had walked into the corner of a shelf was too high to count.
So, the sudden figure before him and the crashing of books wasn't entirely unexpected. A shock, sure, and a loud enough situation for the librarian to give them a harsh glare. Richie takes a few seconds to process, barely paying attention to the flash of blonde curls and familiar uniform, before his brain caught up.
The teen immediately begins helping her scoop up the scattered textbooks, carefully straightening pages that got flattened in the tumble. "Oh, don't worry about it," he reassures between gathering the fallen items. "It honestly happens more than you'd think. Besides, books aren't the easiest thing to carry. Are you alright?"
When the other person starts to help her, Stacy offers them a kind, reassuring smile. Her hands focus on grabbing the heavier books, first, before she takes the offered papers from him. With a nod, she gives him a silent thank you. At her full height, Stacy finally takes in who her helper is, and her eyes narrow as she tries to ascertain who he is. He looks vaguely familiar, in the way that most students at Hatchetfield High do, but Stacy can't place him. Odd.
Still, her head shakes. "I'm fine! I'm okay, thank you," she starts, laughing in agreement. "Books are hard. And they're heavy. Why are they so heavy? Like, you'd think that, by now, someone would come up with a way to make learning all this crap, like, ten times easier. I don't have time to read all of this!" Her hands shake slightly, and Stacy rounds the corner, lets the books fall to the tabletop with a loud thud. "Ugh, the whole thing is just stupid."
Chris nods, eyes flicking to the wood floor then back to her. It makes sense, footing and all that. Movement. But as she mentions she likes basketball way more he grins a bit wider, chuckling then nodding his head, "I agree, but I'm bias. Secret is safe with me." He pauses as she does, watching as she shifts then asks about them winning. His eyebrows draw together momentarily in thought before he's relaxing, nodding again and smiling a bit wider, "Yeah, I do. I think we have a really good team this year," he assures.
Their football team was pretty good too. Max? As much as Chris disagreed with how he went about things... the guy had an arm on him. He was a good quarterback and it often shone in major ways during games. However, the basketball team was more than just one guy throwing a ball. They were a real team and there was barely an a jerk in sight. Sure, some guys were popular and let it go to their egos... but generally? Everyone got along equally on the team.
Giggling, she nods. It's nice when conversations can be easy like this. Stacy, generally, gets along with everyone -- despite the peer pressure she receives from Max Jagerman to be mean to those he deems are lesser than, Stacy is a generally positive person. Without the prying eyes of the big man on campus, it's easy to fall into casual and comfortable conversation.
Sneaker clad toes knock together, and Stacy claps against her wrist to show her enthusiasm. "Hell yeah!" She cheers. "We deserve a break, I think, after football season. Like, yeah, Max is good, but I can't see Clivesdale take another victory from us." The name has her lips curled into a snarl, and Stacy shakes her head. "Fuck Clivesdale."

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girl sits, more like SLUMPS on the bleachers, not even trying to hide the heaving breaths leaving her chest. hands move upwards to dark locks, tightening ponytail ( trying to smooth over her ragged appearance. ) water bottle brought to lips, knee jumping up and down absentmindedly. calm down, bon. head turning towards companion, shuffling slightly to allow her room, lips curling upwards to a shy smile. “ 's okay. just not used to it yet. ” everything a reminder of how NEW she was, how amateur she felt. how much of an imposter she was. foot brought upwards, untying and retying shoelaces as she gets lost in thought, mind racing trying to remember everything that had just been drilled into them. and people say cheerleading's not a sport. “ i'll get better. promise . . . i really liked the routine, by the way. the bit with the kicks and everything was my favourite. ” even if she didn't QUITE have it down. yet.
She feels bad. It's not Bonnie's fault -- in fact, of all the new people that've recently joined the squad, Stacy would say that she was the fastest learner. Her passion for the sport was easily recognizable. As someone who focuses her time on dancing, Stacy can always tell when someone really wants something. And Bonnie wants to be apart of this team.
So, with a gentle touch, she puts an arm on Bonnie's shoulder. It's meant to be reassuring, at the very least, and Stacy hopes her smile is genuine when she meets the other girl's eyes. "You did great, Bonnie. I really mean it!" Her eyes are bright, and Stacy gives her arm a squeeze. "I don't want you to, like, get down on yourself for anything. I think we all just needed to hit the hard refresh button after being away for so long. And I'm sorry if we made you think you sucked, or anything like that. You don't." Nodding, she takes her hand back. "Thanks, though, by the way. Brenda is a really kick ass choreographer."
who: stacy and bonnie ( @cheerledtm ) where: the gym, hatchetfield high
Practices don’t usually run late — Brenda runs a very tight ship, and Stacy is always there to support her in whatever she needs. However, the new routine they came up with seemed to be a little too complicated for some of the girls to pick up. So, an extra hour in the gym later, and Stacy was dead tired. Her legs feel like jelly as she sits on the end of the bleachers, slowly packing her bag back up.
When Bonnie sits next to her, just a few feet away, Stacy takes the chance to slide down. She offers a smile when she settles again, knees slowly bending to ease her aching muscles. “Sorry if things seemed like a lot today,” she offers, voice soft. “We don’t usually go this hard right after a break, but I think Brenda and I were just so excited about this new routine, and…” Her shoulders sag with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
who: stacy and richie ( @filmmakertm ) where: the library, hatchetfield high
It’s not often that Stacy finds herself in the library. For starters, she’s not much of a book worm — she much prefers things with pictures, or things with screens. A side effect of the time, no doubt. Still, her history teacher was very clear on the standards he set — another failed test, and Stacy would have to attend summer school. And summer school was not in the cards for her, considering this would be her last chance to attend cheer camp.
So, she’s a little lost as she wanders between rows of books. The ones in her arms are already heavy, and Stacy’s head is craned up to read along the top row when she knocks into someone, sending her collection tumbling to the ground. She groans a little louder than one should in the library, and Stacy begins to bend down, starts to collect her things. “Sorry,” she grumbles, though not out of spite — out of frustration. “Stupid books.”
closed: @pompomstm where: high school gymnasium
It's after school and basketball practice is in full swing with the cheer team also present. Drills are being ran, plays to outsmart the opposing teams, and then cheer routines worthy of clapping over. It's truly a bustling place within Hatchetfield High's gymnasium. Chris being captain of the basketball team is present, of course, and so is Stacy (second in command under Brenda)-- who is someone he calls a good friend. In fact they're taking a break together on the bleachers only pulled partially out. He'd brought some tangerines to share with whoever and was currently working to peel one open as Stacy spoke beside him. His eyes lift from his task to smile show that his smile is genuine and he's listening, dark hues flicking over her eager and excited expression. She's been telling him about the new routines they had yet to even touch on yet... how she and Brenda was geniuses when it came to them. He hadn't a doubt in his mind.
She finishes or maybe pauses for a breath, but Chris takes the moment to speak, "Hey, I'm sure it's going to blow our minds. You and Brenda are queens when it comes to making routines. The ones at the football games have been phenomenal. I'm sure they'll be just as great for the basketball games."
Indoor practice was so much better than being on the field. The weather was too cold right now, for starters, but being able to watch the game she's cheering for adds a little excitement. She's no expert, of course, but the more Stacy pays attention, the better she feels about her performance. It brings a layer of passion to what she does -- something that isn't always present when she's not sure what's going on.
Around a mouthful of tangerine, she smiles, nodding eagerly towards Chris. "They have to be a little different, just 'cause of the floor," she gestures to the wood, "but, the vibes are totally the same. Plus, I like cheering for basketball way more than I do for football." Leaning in, her voice lowers. "Just don't tell Brenda that." Giggling, she sits back up, spine straight. "It's just easier, I think. And nicer. And the people are nicer, too. Like you." Head tilts, and Stacy's feet shift beneath her. "Do you guys think you've got a good chance at winning?"
when the popular cheerleader had come into the shop, ruth had debated switching with her dad and moving to the back to pack tea blends. the shop provided a little barrier for onslaught. after all, why would max jagerman ever be interested in a tea and book shop? but it didn't stop the anxiety from squeezing tight within ruth's chest, especially when the girl seemed to address her.
she gave a nervous swallow at the seemingly genuine question, rubbing her palms anxiously against her sweater. " u - um . . . hmm . . . " she mumbled thoughtfully as she glanced in the direction of the tea tin displays. " there's war and peach? it's sweet and fruity, so she might like that? " she suggested, licking her lips before rubbing them together. " or if she's a matcha person, she might like matcha do about nothing . . . "
Stacy tries to follow with Ruth's explanations. There's a lot she's missing, she fears, because the puns are completely lost on her. Eyes wide, she looks towards the tin displays, head bouncing between the various options. The second one brings a smile to her face -- if she knows anything, she knows matcha -- but she's not sure if that's what Miss Ivy wants. The first one, though... maybe.
"You said the peach one is fruity?" She asks for clarification. Her hands are already moving to swing her purse onto the cash wrap, fingers tugging at the zipper to open the top. She fishes around inside, clearly in search of her wallet, as her eyes look back up. "And what if someone likes coffee? Or, like, things that taste like coffee, but maybe they aren't coffee?" Leaning in, her smile is a little wide, a little joyful. "I like coffee."

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who: stacy and ruth ( @headgeartm ) where: noveltea, downtown hatchetfield
Stacy doesn’t often go to NovelTea – not because she doesn’t like it, but it’s not usually her go-to stop. She’s not much of a reader, so to speak. Or a tea drinker. She prefers her drinks a little pinker, a little sweeter. Still, her boss asked her to make a stop – and Stacy was nothing if not a great employee. Miss Ivy was incredibly kind, the least Stacy could do was get her a cup of tea.
So she enters, shivering slightly from the cold air. Her eyes are quick to look up, scan the menu for the item her boss asked her for. However, when she gets to the counter, she forgets. Head shaking, she looks down at the cashier – someone she recognizes from school. (Stacy is mean to her, despite her better judgment. Max tells her that Ruth is a nerd, and that’s enough reason to make her life a living hell.) Swallowing, she offers Ruth a smile despite it all. “Hi,” she says, voice cheery. “Um – question, my boss sent me on a mission, but I’m totally blanking on what she likes to drink. If you were the owner of a flower shop, what kind of tea would you drink?”
full name ⸻ stacy marie wright occupation ⸻ student at hatchetfield high school sexuality ⸻ lesbian pronouns ⸻ she/hers height ⸻ 5'7" notable features ⸻ usually in her cheerleading uniform, attached at the hip to her bestie brenda.
positive traits ⸻ perky, generous, outgoing negative traits ⸻ absent minded, loose lipped, judgmental aesthetics ⸻ chipped nail polish, a collection of stuffed animals hidden in your closet, flowers that smell like spring biggest fear(s) ⸻ never amounting to any sort of success, her intellect holding her back
biography:
stacy was born and raised in hatchetfield, and is a proud nighthawk! (caw caw)
her parents are very kind and very loving -- they're the average middle class hatchetfield family.
her focus is on three things: her cheerleading, her dancing, and her bestie brenda. everything else tends to fall to the wayside. her dream is to study dance professionally next year in new york, but she's afraid of leaving her friends behind and traveling on her own.
she is very, very afraid of max jagerman. she'll bully those he deems nerds in order to not upset him, but when max isn't around stacy kind of... forgets who's a nerd and who isn't. oopsie. this causes her to have complicated relationships with those that are called nerdy prudes -- she's not intentionally two faced, she's just a little spacey.
stacy is a lesbian. she found this out about herself pretty early on her life, and doesn't really hide her sexuality. she just doesn't talk about it, as it's not relevant.