#bubblegun

. . . artfight attacks batch #4 !!! ^u^

my first time making a full amv as an artfight attack!!!!

:: @rainbowleenie

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[links will be added as they're posted!!]

never heard of this ship before

Robin doesn't know what to do with her hands, so she just uses both of them to grip her cup. She's only here because Kate and Milton insisted on it, desperate to even just appear mildly relevant before the Gap-covered masses that attend their school. She'd rather be they be anywhere else, but even a party at King Steve's house is better than sitting at home, alone in her room.

She knows Barb is here with her new best friend, Nancy Wheeler the Mega Priss—but for all that Harrington's house is only so big they haven't crossed paths until now.

Not that Barb notices.

She's sitting next to Wheeler, making sad cow eyes at her. It's sort of driving Robin crazy, actually. Like she's being so obvious, even someone as boneheaded as Hagan could read the desire on her face. It makes Robin worried for her, for all that Barb's eye glanced right over her without any hint of recognition earlier in the night.

The party is boring, and so is the game of spin the bottle that Kate and Milton were too chicken shit to sit in on—Robin wasn't scared, for the record, just deeply disinterested in getting too close to the pride of Hawkins High. This popular jock kissing that popular queen bee kissing that popular jock—

And then Carol Perkins' spin lands right on Prissy Wheeler.

It's so unfair. Robin thinks it would have been worth the risk of some gross boy's face near her own if only just for the one chance to have someone like Carol's lips touch hers. Wheeler doesn't look particularly happy about it, with a furrowed brow and pursed lips—but she doesn't look intimidated, either. Not that, not grossed out, not entirely disinterested.

She looks almost comfortable when she leans in towards Carol. Even in spite of who it is doing the kissing, Robin can't deny that it's sort of a wet dream come true. Two waifs with icy eyes and great hair touching lips delicately, like something straight out of her favorite lesbian regency daydreams. A gentle press followed by greater pressure, lips slipping together.

Robin downs her drink to soothe her suddenly very dry throat, glad for once that her non-existent alcohol tolerance leads to red cheeks.