#killing eve costumes

[goodluckb4be]

we, as a society don’t talk enough about killing eve

[mytypeofdistraction]

Bella Baxter and Villanelle (similar costumes)

[mazzystar24]

Okay so I just started killing eve and I’m up to season two nearly three and you know what I love?

How every scene villanelle has with nico (Niko? Idk the subtitles spell it different each time) she dresses with a sort of heightened masculine flair than her usual clothes and also within HIS colour palette

I love this little costume design detail because it’s very symbolic and it’s also a form of challenging him that’s embedded into her very wardrobe design

[mer-se]

Bunch of crazies I love it hahaha

[takekawa]

completely forgot trick or treating still existed augh fuck i live right behind a school it’s gotta still be a thing. WOOPS

[hollowpointxsmile]

killing eve s2e4 (desperate times) my beloved

[chiclunatic]

😋💖🐷

Happy Halloween

Killing Eve (2018-2022)

[familyvideostevie]

october twenty-sixth

day twenty-six: remus lupin you’ve been on three dates without a kiss. will today change that? | first kiss, early relationship, fluff | 1k

Three dates and Remus hasn’t kissed you.

Though your friends insist otherwise, you can’t help but wonder if there is something wrong with you.

He’s respectful, they tell you. He’s shy! You want to believe it. He’ll kiss you today.

God, you hope so.

Obviously, you could kiss him, but something in your gut tells you to let him make the move. It’s hard to resist though, as Remus is very kissable. He’s handsome in a way you don’t know how to describe. The scars on his face make him seem a bit severe but it’s cancelled out when you see the soft kindness of his eyes. He looks like someone who would give you directions in the middle of a rainstorm. He fills out his sweaters like they were tailor-made for him and his hands are huge.

And he’s tall, which you’re never opposed to.

And he likes to touch you. This is the main reason you haven’t given up hope on the kiss.

On your first date — a long afternoon of conversation at a coffee shop — he’d put his hand on your back on the way in and out, helped you take your coat off and held it out for you to put back on, and gave you a very lovely hug when you parted ways. On your second date he’d linked arms with you as you walked through a museum and held your hand when it got a little crowded.

He definetly likes you. Right?

Date three finds you at a bookshop. You’ve actually planned to go to a pub quiz down the road but you got the timing wrong and it doesn’t start for an hour, so you’re killing time.

There aren’t that many people milling around the stacks. Remus squeezes your hand and leaves you to browse on his own, which you appreciate. It can be kind of overwhelming to be under his gaze all the time, you’re learning. Maybe it’s just the force of your fancy, which is a bit outrageous after only three dates. You find yourself imagining him in your life — a couples Halloween costume, a fall weekend away, holiday parties and on New Year’s Eve.

Remus just makes it easy. He’s so…lovely.

So how can you get him to kiss you? It’s far too early for mistletoe. The bookstore is instead decorated with leaves and skulls and pumpkins. Maybe you’ll float the idea of a Halloween party, use some liquid courage to kiss him.

“Are you going to get anything?” Remus’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. He looks at you patiently.

“Oh,” you say. “Not sure, actually.”

He hums. “I think I’m going to grab this.” He holds up a book you’ve heard of but not read. “If it’s good I’ll pass it along to you. You sure I can’t get you anything?”

Of course he’s offering, of course he’s ready and willing to share with you. He’s infuriating. “No,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, though.”

He squeezes your hand. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

True to his word, which you are learning he tends to be, he’s back quickly, grabbing your hand once more and leading you back out into the cool evening. “Is there going to be food at this quiz?” he asks. “I’m peckish.”

“’Course there is,” you say. “I’m not taking you to a pub without food, Remus. I’m not that bad of a date.”

He laughs. It’s quickly becoming one of your favorite sounds. “I’d never think that. I hope you don’t expect us to win, though, because I’m hopeless at these.”

You scoff. “I don’t believe you.” Remus is very smart and very modest about it.

“No, I really am!” he says. “I know useless things only. You’ll have to come to one with me and James and Sirius —” you know them as his best friends based on how he talks about them “— because they get really into it. I know you’ll being them to victory where I always drag them down.”

“You don’t know that I’m good at pub quizzes, Remus.”

His eyes twinkle under the streetlights. “I’ve got a hunch.”

He wants you to meet his friends. The thought warms you.

The light on the crosswalk changes and you stand, hands clasped, waiting.

Fuck it. You’re going to do it. You’re going to kiss him. You take a breath and turn to him, lean in before you can second guess yourself —

Remus turns his head to say something and your foreheads smack together.

“Oh my god,” you say, rearing back. “Oh my god, I’m so —”

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand on his own forehead. “What just happened?”

He releases his grip on your fingers to gently grab the back of your head, tilting your face this way and that as if he’ll find a wound.

You flop your face onto his shoulder. “Please, leave me to die of embarrassment,” you mumble.

“Never,” he says. “Really, darling. Are you alright? Didn’t hit you too hard?” His tenderness is making your stomach do something funny. Darling, darling, darling.

“No, Remus,” you sigh. You pull back to look at him. He really does look concerned, bless him. “I’m fine. I was trying to kiss you.”

“Oh,” he says, looking slightly surprised. “Sorry, I suppose. That’s my fault.”

“Yes,” you grumble. “It is, considering you haven’t kissed me yet, which is why I was trying in the first place.”

Your embarrassment is making you brave.

His eyes light up again. “Do you want me to?” His tone is slightly teasing.

“Remus!” He laughs and cradles your face in his warm hands. This man always has warm hands even when it’s cold out.

“Alright, alright, let’s try this again, hm?”

He leans in slowly. Your eyes flutter shut. When he kisses you it’s a light press of his lips at first and then a firmer pressure as he slots your mouths together properly. You let him do the work and you sigh into it until he pulls away

Your foreheads press together gently this time. “Let’s try to avoid any more injuries, alright?”

You smack his chest. He laughs.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[thisismeracing]

Charlieverse | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader ― Word count: 2.1k ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol and Halloween costumes (clowns, werewolves, and others).  ― Summary: When Yn decided to go to a Halloween party with her best friend, Charles Leclerc, she did not consider that some of the fantasies would be so close to reality that they would terrify her. But one thing Yn had no idea about too, was Charles’ feelings for her. All Hallow’s Eve is not the most romantic scenario to confess your feelings, but it might be just the perfect one for them.

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There are many sayings about how sharing is caring, and how life feels bigger and better when you do so.

Charles knew this all too well.

He was used to sharing everything with you since he was a kid.

It all started after you forgot your snack at home. He was only five years old then, but he had two brothers so he knew exactly what to do. Little Charles offered to share his bag of colored goldfish and grapes with you. The next day you shared your coloring pencils with him. It started with simple things, and it grew as you both grew older. All through the school years, Charles and you were inseparable, even with his crazy racing schedule. You would take notes for him, he would bring you stories, and you would study together until late hours. You shared your fears, deepest feelings, and even the shame of being underdressed when invited to a party such as now.

“I had no idea people would go this hard,” you state, watching as the Taxi driver came to a halt in front of the big doors. Gathered in front of the mansion were people dressed as all kinds of gore Halloween beings, some of the makeup seeming too real to your liking.

“We can go back home and change if you want,” there’s Charles' tranquil voice. He is always the one to keep his patience even if the world is ending, and you love that about him.

You shake your head, “We would never find something else in time, plus, we’re together, so… here’s to another good story,” you point to your matching costumes, and Charles smiles.

You’re both wearing Spiderman costumes. Though it felt like the best choice, the easiest one, you should have guessed it was too easy and, therefore, not ideal.

Charles gives you one last wink before putting on his mask. You do the same just as he opens the door for you, and hand in hand you walk through the crowd into the house. You cling to your best friend’s arm trying to stay as far away as possible from some of the costumes.

“You sure you’re ok over there?” Charles asks when you’re halfway to the kitchen, and you tighten your grip on his hand.

You nod, “Yeah, just.. That werewolf costume seems too realistic.” And there’s no need for you to explain to him. He knows you like he knows the back of his hand, his favorite track, his most played song. Charles knows that someone planted a seed of fear about some creatures when you were little, and some of the stories have stayed with you even after you grew. It is a bit curious how despite your fears, you still love Halloween, at least the kind of parties you go to where people will dress in a way that clearly shows that they are human beings and meant no harm.

Were you supposed to guess that a certain crazy clown costume was a mere costume after seeing people being killed by those?

You wouldn’t stay to answer that question.

When you finally reach the kitchen, both of you take off the mask to your friends, hugging and making your rounds. Charles grabs you two a drink and you choose to stay there instead of mingling and risking bumping into scary figures.

“Can you get me another of these?” You mouth to Charles pointing at your empty cup. From across the kitchen, he nods, and a few seconds later he’s in front of you with a full cup.

“They were out of ice, is it ok if we share this one?” he asks over the music and you nod. You’re sitting on the counter, and when Charles turns to your friends he stands right between your legs. One of your hands goes to his shoulders, and you keep talking about your costume as if your heart weren’t hammering inside your ribcage, almost coming out from your throat the second his hand finds your knee, holding it so your anxious bounce can cease.

You gulp trying to keep your attention on whatever your friend is talking about because all your mind can focus on is your best friend’s hand on you, his body radiating warmth into yours. And not that it is unusual for Charles to touch it, quite the opposite, he loves to hug and kiss those he cares about, but it’s just lately your heart seemed to wish for a different kind of sharing.

It wants to share the secret touches. It wants to claim hungry kisses, tears of happiness, loud silences, and whispered mysteries. It is as if your heart created a reality where you had all of this with Charles.

Your own Charlie-verse.

The party keeps going in full swing, and Charles never leaves your side for over thirty minutes. He comes and goes always checking if you’re ok and if you want to go with him, but you choose the safety of the counter and your crowd of friends. The conversation is good, and so is the booze, from the kitchen you can see a bit of the living room and the pool area through the glass doors.

And it’s only when part of the girls decide to go dancing that you hop off the counter, and grab Charles’ hands following him in the direction of another crowd of friends. You’re tipsy enough to lace your fingers with his and to tighten your grip when you pass people dressed as clowns, werewolves, and with fake open wounds.

You end up in the pool area in front of Charles, he holds your body protectively against his, while his other hand has a cup you’re still sharing. The conversation is between the group, but every once in a while something will catch his attention and he’ll whisper about it in your ear, to which you’ll slightly turn your head, chuckle, and then answer him.

Though you felt a bit out of place at first with how everyone’s costumes seemed so extra compared to yours, you and Charles have had a lot of fun. So much so that you have given up going back home and decided to share a cab to his apartment.

Half of the ride a tipsy Charles is lecturing you with his “I told you so” about how he suggested you slept at his place and you denied it before the party. You just rest your head on his shoulder and pretend you are listening to his non-stop rant.

As it happens, the driver seems a bit uninterested in Charles’ rant because he turns the music on, and the last song that starts playing when he makes the curve into Charles’ street is Michael Jackson. You shriek and start jumping on the car seat.

“Chérie, it’s late,” your best friend tries to reason, but you just giggle.

“You have soundproof walls.”

“But not windows,” he tries again, and you playfully roll your eyes before getting out of the car wishing the driver a good night.

“Annie, are you okay?” you start to sing as you reach the elevators, and Charles just fakes a sigh, holding you close by the waist.

“So, Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?” you sing loudly until you reach the penthouse.

“Love, that’s not Smooth Criminal’s dance, that’s Thriller…” Charles holds back his laughter when you start a made-up choreography in his living room. “Oh mon dieu, you’re so precious.”

You giggle, smacking a loud kiss on his warm cheeks. While you make your track to the bathroom Charles goes to the kitchen.

“I’m using the guest bathroom! Go shower on the main one, you stinky!” you scream from the corridors and you hear his scoff, almost able to picture his eye roll.

You go through your shower on autopilot, brushing your teeth, and reaching for one of Charles’ shirts that are on the guest bedroom bed. Your visits have been so frequent you have everything you need there, but tonight you didn’t want one of your pajamas, you want to indulge in the daydream that your mind is harnessing.

When you reach your favorite Monegasque bedroom you can hear the shower still running, so you settle in the middle of his bed, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in your head, there’s still music playing and your body seems to have kept a bit of the buzzing from the party. The distant noises coming from the open windows, along with the wind hitting the curtains lull you into a soft slumber, that only goes away when a door closes, you guess it's his closet, you smell his body wash and shampoo before he steps close to you.

There’s too much happening inside your head, so you choose to stay in silence while your best friend watches you attentively, eyes finding yours in a beat.

Charles, on the other hand, doesn’t have much in his head. He only has you. Your smell, your laugh, your voice, your body on his bed wearing his shirt.

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” his mouth works faster than his brain does, and just like that you’re staring at him in confusion.

It’s like his brain is shortcircuited.

Charles gets up from the bed.

He walks to the door, then turns around and comes back to your side. There’s a crease between his brows and you have known him long enough to identify it as worry.

“Sharls, what’s going on?”

“I’m not drunk ok? Before you say anything, I’m not drunk, I’m just tipsy like you,” he starts and you nod from your spot on the bed. “I am so sorry, but I have to tell you this, and I’ll completely understand if you don’t feel the same, but I have to take this out of my chest, Yn.”

Sensing how serious the situation is you sit up, legs crossed one over the other, hands tucked under them.

“I- uhm… See- It’s like this, I-”

“Charles,” you call.

“I’m in love with you,” he spills in a single sentence, but then he keeps going. “I love you so fucking much it’s starting to hurt the fact that I’ve been keeping it from you. And I don’t even know when it started, but I’m so used to sharing everything with you, I just.. I wanted us to share more. I wanted to share my bed with you, and my clothes, and-” he points with his fingers before you could say something, “And I know we already share those things, but I want to do it differently. I want to share romantically. I want to share my heart with you, Chérie, all of it. But I’ll understand if you’re confused or overwhelmed by my outburst, in fact… shit… I should have waited in case you wanted to go home right? Please, tell me that if you don’t feel the same you’ll at least get the farthest guest bedroom, I promise I won’t bother you, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen in the morning and I-”

“No,” you interrupt.

“Pardon?”

“I said no, I won’t sleep in the farthest guest bedroom.”

“Oh- then let me drive you, just…– fuck I can’t I drank… uhm I’ll–”

“No, Charles, stop,” you get on your knees on the mattress and reach for his arm, bringing his body close to yours.

“No, I’m not sleeping in the guest bedroom because we’re sharing a bed tonight. No, I’m not mad about your admission, I’m sharing my heart with you too. Romantically,” you confess.

His shoulders drop in relief, and you giggle, threading your fingers on his soft strands. Charles mutters something you can’t understand because you’re too focused on how his face seems different from this angle, after all the confessed words. He’s still your Charles, but he’s also a new Charles, and this knowledge brings a new feeling to your heart and stomach.

When his lips find yours, soft and warm, a contrast with his cold hands on your jaw and waist, he presses your bodies closer and hums in pleasure. You smile, unable to contain your happiness. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, and when the air has made itself scarce, you part the kiss, foreheads still touching.

“So, Charlie, are you okay? Are you okay, Charlie?”

Charles throws his head back and laughs.

He knows how insufferable you could get once a song gets stuck in your head.

“I was struck down. You’re such a smooth criminal, Chérie. Stealing hearts around so easily.”

It is your turn to laugh.

“That was cheesy, but I loved it,” you mumble before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I love you.”

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, lovelies! I hope you liked the piece, I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia on Tumblr) for proof and beta-reading this <3.  Let me know your thoughts on this piece *mwah*.  

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[everythingelseisextra]

You're Like Me

Part Twelve: Run, Little Girl

Description: A loose idea for saving you sparks conflict. Warnings: References to rape and torture, language, references to poor mental health Word Count: 2125 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @babayaga67 @look-at-the-soul @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28

When you were younger, trapped in a constant cycle of hotel rooms and hazy, feverish feeding frenzies, you acted as though love was a brutish thing, something to be brushed off and forgotten about. Like a bruise on your body left over from some client with more insidious inclinations, it only hurt if you thought about it. Love was performed, used in order to gain some gentleness, maybe, placed on your form like a costume. As soon as it was over, as soon as you could let it go, it became a brash, useless thing again, pointless. You loved a girl and you would never have been able to make something out of it. That was the beautiful thing about it; you were doomed from the start, and yet, you still dove in without holding your breath. You tried to nurture a still-born. You wanted to love yourself and you looked in a mirror and you weren’t sure who that was. It’s hard, you think, to take such a risk as to love. In your years on this earth, you’ve looked at love from afar and thought you could never have it. As a child, you looked at anything kind and saw darkness underneath it.

You are Eve and you’ve taken a bite from the apple, and now you’re aware, far too aware, of the evil in the world. These are things you have said and done, and most of them make you a victim or a villain. These are the people you have been, and most of them are sad. 

Now, though, you are starting to see the good too. Because a white horse prances through the arena and he stands beside you and watches with soft blue eyes and his head tilted towards you, just slightly. Because when you wake from a nightmare, or from fitful half-sleep, and you call him, he always picks up. Because on the few nights you have together now, you share a bed, and he does not touch you. Because he is the closest you’ve ever had to safety, and you’re not sure what you fear more; the circumstance of it being taken away, or the possibility of it staying and learning who you are without the trauma making you a survivor. 

There is a quiet battle happening in front of your eyes. They are trying to locate you. There are men, he says, who prowl Birmingham with hungry eyes and dirty clothes, and they don’t settle. They pace and provoke and pester until people fall prey to their pressure and answer their questions, all too vague to pinpoint, but too pointed to be for anyone else. Descriptions of your younger self float through the city, and you find yourself face to face with who you used to be. That person who held fast to life when everything around her asked her to want to die. 

How does one kill a hydra? Tommy struggles with this, pacing back and forth in the bedroom. You lie back on the bed, your legs dangling off the side, and stare up at the ceiling. If he tries to take down the current lead, a man named Liszt, then another will simply take his place, and they’ll know where the threat comes from. A web of men dangle around Liszt, prepared to fight for him and what he stands for, and targeting one of them would likely wipe out the Shelbys, powerful as they are. 

“Money?” You turn your head to look at him, your eyes drifting over him. He wears a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, and a black vest and pants, accessorized, of course, by a gold chain and finely made watch. “If we could somehow stop their revenue, that might do something.”

“Lead the girls out on strike and watch them get shot?” He shakes his head, continuing to pace. His head rolls back on his shoulders, stretching out his tired muscles, and he looks up at the ceiling, pausing. “You’re not gonna like this.”

“Oh God, okay.” You sit up, one arm supporting you on the bed while the other toys with the belt you wear. “What is it?”

“Only way I can think of is to infiltrate. Report back to my connections. Take them down from the inside.” 

You blink slowly at him, unbelieving. “And you’re suggesting you go into that world and— and what? Pretend to be one of them? Tommy, you know that line is thin.”

“Arthur’s not careful. John doesn’t take things seriously. Can’t ask Pol or Ada. Who else?” He looks over at you, eyes flicking to your hand on your belt, then back up to your face. 

“No.” You press your lips together, staring him down. “I won’t let you”

Knowing what he’d say as soon as he opens his mouth, you shake your head. “Because I don’t want to see you put into positions where you’re forced to rape and torture and use young girls like who I used to be. I don’t care the reason why you’d be doing that, you’d still be doing it.. Intention doesn’t matter when it’s going to affect someone for the rest of their lives.”

“I wouldn’t be doing all that.” He gives you that infuriating, searching look, like he’s unsure how he should proceed and wants you to tell him how.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t start out doing that, but you’d get deeper and deeper. Boiling a frog.”

“I’m not a frog.”

“No shit, Sherlock. It’s a metaphor.”

“No, I’ll know when I get too deep.” 

You resist rolling your eyes, both wanting to express your frustration and also maintain the mutual respect you serve each other. “You’ll know when you get in too deep like I knew I wasn’t actually being sent to a boarding school?”

The sentiment hovers between you, tense in the air, and you become deeply conscious of the rise and fall of your chest, of the way your fingers fall still on the belt. He will get in too deep, you think, and by that time, it’ll be too late to back out. It’ll be too late to change anything. He’ll be stuck, like you were, in a loop of being forced to do something you would never choose, would never wish on anyone. 

“It’s the only way.” 

“That’s a cowardly argument and you know it.”

“You’re afraid to take the risk that’ll ultimately save your life.” His voice raises slightly. “I’m not the fucking coward.”

You bristle, standing up and stalking towards him. “Why are you so desperate to risk your life for me? What does that say about you, huh? Do you care about me or hate yourself?”

It was a low blow. You said it without thinking, without realizing the effect it might have. His eyes widen slightly, and his jaw tightens, and he takes a step back, then another, then turns and starts to walk out of the bedroom. 

“Tommy, wait.” You follow him, socks sliding on the wooden floor. “Wait, I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes. You fucking did.” He’s bitter, not giving you the time to explain yourself. 

Your heart pounds in your temples.”Thomas, you know I don’t think—”

“You do. You do, and you’re right. You’re fucking right.” He turns and points a finger in your chest, rheeling on you. “I’m fucking— I’m not right in the head, and you know it, and you’re like everybody else in this damn family and look at me like I’m the worst thing a human being can be. I’m getting fucking tired of it. For once could someone treat me like I’m not a liability?”

“First of all,” you snap back, a hollow sensation filling your chest and something cold spiking your heart. “I happen to quite like you, so whatever you’ve got in that head of yours about me looking at you like the worst thing ever is all you. You’re not right in the head, and neither am I, and I don’t blame you for that, so we can move right on from what I just said to you. That was bullshit and I’m sorry. Lastly, and this is probably the most important,” You take a step towards him, leaving about a foot between you. “Who the hell told you that having feelings and vulnerabilities made you a liability?” 

He straightens, the furrow in his brow loosening, the anger in his face turning to something tensely thoughtful, the expression someone would take when doing difficult math or strategizing. He considers you, taking a few deep breaths, then looks away. “Probably me.” 

You nod slightly, reaching out a hand to take his. “I’m sorry I said that. I got heated at that moment. I didn’t mean it.” 

“You still said it.”

“Yeah. And that’s on me. It wasn’t right to say that to you.” You squeeze his hand, peering up at him, trying to read his expression. “Are you ready to move on?”

He nods slowly, eyes staring off over your shoulder, mind clearly elsewhere. You gently tug at his arm, leading him back to the bedroom. 

Once the door is closed behind you, you let go of his hand and cross your arms. “What?”

His lips purse in an almost-pout and he shakes his head. 

“Out with it.” 

His lips twitch up and he stares at you, as if waiting for you to speak.

“Thomas Michael Shelby, is this funny to you?”  You step towards him, resisting smiling back and failing miserably. 

His smile widens, and you catch a glimpse, for the first time since you met him, of the boy he used to be, all charm and sleepy eyes. Your heart flutters and you feel your cheeks heat slightly.

“Oh, so it is funny.” 

“I’ve been with a lot of women, and—”

“Oh boy, I’m so excited to hear what comes after that absolutely stunning start to a sentence.” 

“Do you want me to talk or not?” 

You incline your head, trying to hide a grin. 

“I”ve been with a lot of women, and they all wanted Thomas Shelby. Except Grace.” His tone sobers. “Not Grace.”

You stay quiet, tilting your head, letting him have the space to speak. Grace’s name serves as a kind of silent message between the two of you; that he wants, or needs to be able to speak his mind without interruption, no matter how long the pauses take, no matter how shy or uncertain he seems. You don’t speak until it’s over. 

“I’m a broken man. I’m no fucking joy to be around, and there’s no great reward for knowing me like they always expect. I’m heartless, cold, and called the Devil. But you—” He looks away from you, swallowing hard before he speaks. “You don’t give a shit who I am. Just yelled at you in the hallway and you didn’t fucking flinch. You’re brave. Or— or not smart enough to know better.”

You shake your head, chuckling slightly. “You know I’m neither, Tom. If you’re asking why I stick around, I’ll tell you.”

He looks back at you, giving you a slight nod. 

You step forward, placing a hand on his chest, just above his heart. “You say you're heartless but you’re not. You say you’re cold but you’re not. You’re like me. You’ve adapted to live in a world that isn’t fair to you. You’re ashamed to admit that your heart beats like mine does. And I— I love you for that.”

Slowly, his hand lifts to cover yours on his chest, his eyes slide shut, and he speaks his next words in one long breath. “There are better men—”

“And they’re not you.” You smile, slipping your hand up his chest to hold his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. Eyes still closed, he leans into you, and his whole body seems to shift, to relax, to move to you. “I choose you, Tom. Like you chose me.”

He nods, his soft eyes opening to look down at you, pupils a little larger than before. 

You shift your weight forward and kiss him, and he melts into you, lips soft and pliant, allowing you to take some control. Your other hand rests on his waist, gently pulling him towards you. You fit together, entwined, his hands resting on your hips, delicately holding you. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, and you sway in silence, an almost-dance. 

“Stay the night.” It’s not a question.

You chuckle. “I have to do the horses in the morning.”

“Fuck the horses.”

“Maybe don’t.”

His hands, hesitantly, pull you to stand flush against him. His voice is breathy. “Please. Stay the night.”

You exhale slowly. “Alright. Alright, we can— we can try.”

[anonymousewrites]

A Good Day for Death Halloween Special 2023

Wednesday Addams x Reader

            “Halloween is so important for Outcasts!” chirped Enid, flipping through her pinterest of costume ideas. “Come on, we have a huge party every year. You have to come and dress up!”

            “All Hallow’s Eve is important to my family,” said Wednesday. She glanced at the variety of pink and fantastical outfits on Enid’s board. “However, we prefer to spend our time performing seances to commune with our deceased family members rather than at kids’ parties.”

            “Addamses can actually die?” asked (Y/N). Honestly, that was the most surprising part of that discussion.

            “When they decide they want to explore the afterlife,” said Wednesday matter-of-factly.

            “Oh, cool!” said (Y/N) brightly. “I’m not really sure how easy it is for me, either. You know, child of Thanatos and all that.”

            “We could find out,” said Wednesday.

            “Let’s please not try to kill (Y/N),” said Enid, not liking how easily (Y/N) was nodding. They were way too willing to go along with Wednesday’s ideas.

            “Another time, then.” Wednesday glanced at (Y/N). “Though I suppose I’d have to just take you to the brink of death.” She didn’t really want (Y/N) dead (not that she’d admit it to anyone. That would be soft).

            “I trust you!” chirped (Y/N).

            Wednesday couldn’t respond to that as she felt her heart skip a beat (a pleasant sensation since it might signal her death). (Y/N) was surprisingly skilled at finding that Wednesday was (unfortunately) soft for them.

            “Hey, hey, focus, you two!” said Enid. “We need costumes!”

            “I already have mine,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            Enid sighed, and her shoulders slouched. “You go as the exact same thing every year!”

            “I updated the outfit this time,” said (Y/N), smiling. They looked at Wednesday and grinned. “I always go as a grim reaper.”

            “Appropriate choice,” remarked Wednesday.

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Fine, fine, you’re a reaper as usual,” said Enid. She crossed her arms. “Wednesday, tell me you of all people have a cool costume.”

            “I’m a homicidal maniac. They look just like everyone else,” said Wednesday.

            “Oh, nice,” said (Y/N).

            “You guys are both terrible at this,” muttered Enid. She threw up her hands. “Okay, fine. But I need help since I actually put in effort. I have a few ideas, but I have no idea what to do.”

            “You should go as my victim,” said Wednesday.

            “Uh, no thanks,” said Enid. “I was thinking of going as Draculaura or Princess Peach.”

            “Definitely Princess Peach. We have enough Fangs here already,” said (Y/N). Wednesday nodded in agreement.

            “But she’s so cute…” Enid pouted, but (Y/N) and Wednesday had a point. “At least Princess Peach is totally in my color scheme.” She grinned. “Now, let’s get ready for the party!”

            “I’m not going,” said Wednesday.

            “You say that now, but Enid loves this party. You’re not getting out of it,” teased (Y/N). They smiled. “But don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

            Wednesday supposed that would make it better couldn’t make it worse.

l

            “I still don’t understand parties,” remarked Wednesday as she stared around herself at the students partying and dancing (and drinking).

            Enid almost patted her on the back but stopped since Wednesday didn’t like physical touch. “I know you don’t like parties, but (Y/N) will be here soon.” She grinned at Wednesday, dressed in a blond wig and a knee-length pink dress decorated with Nintendo emblems.

            “Why would that change anything?” said Wednesday, refusing to look at Enid’s smile.

            “No reason,” chirped Enid. “Here they come, have fun!” Enid knew very well that Wednesday liked (Y/N), so she was more than happy to leave them alone.

            “Hey, Wednesday!” said (Y/N). They blinked as Enid left. “Where’s Enid going?”

            “She likes to dance,” said Wednesday simply.

            She glanced at (Y/N) and their costume. They had black trousers and a crop top on with a long grey cloak overtop. In their hand, they held a fake scythe (though Wednesday knew they were skilled with a real one, so the impression wasn’t lost). Their makeup was dark around their eyes to create a gaunter expression. (Y/N) was definitely a grim reaper.

            “You actually attempted to look scary,” said Wednesday. “Good.” Too many of the costumes here were cute. Wednesday thought perhaps she should dress up as a killer and then scare them.

            (Y/N) smiled, knowing that was a compliment from Wednesday. “You should see me during Dia de los Muertos. I look amazing.”

            Wednesday was silent for a moment before speaking. “You always fit with death.”

            (Y/N) faltered, surprised at getting two Wednesday-like compliments back-to-back, before laughing nervously and turning a little pink. “Thanks, Wednesday.” They glanced at her. “But seriously, you should come celebrate with me. I wouldn’t make you wear color, and it could be really fun.”

            “I don’t really do ‘fun,’ ” said Wednesday.

            “Not even fun that involves graveyards, death, and ghosts returning to visit us?” said (Y/N), knowing what Wednesday liked.

            Wednesday considered. “I suppose that is my family’s typical Halloween.”

            “Then you’ll like my family’s Dia de los Muertos.” (Y/N) grinned. “Sometimes my dad likes to show up, too.”

            Now, Wednesday was against parties, but with (Y/N) and the god of death present? She could put up with irritating people. “I suppose I could come.”

            (Y/N) brightened, and Wednesday pretended she didn’t like how happy they looked. “Awesome! I’m glad you said yes.”

            Wednesday didn’t respond, but she silently knew that she was more willing to do what (Y/N) asked of her than anyone else.

Taglist:

@strawberriesareprettycool

@im-making-an-effort

@champagnewitnocham

@simpcreator

@ksunoosworld

@dot-and-co

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@itsyapeepkiri

@daza1s-w1fe

@tired-writing-reader

@mary-jinx

@ognenniyvolk

@under-kitty

@colezb

@simp4natasha

@emily-roberts

@left-and-right-up-and-down

@star583

@rainbow-love4ever

@nemtodd-barnes1923

@likefirenrain

@ziro-the-null-god

@youralphawolf72

@mjoiner1136

@alexkolax

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Time to kill everyone with Cuteness again!

Eve with a little child who dresses like the Einherjars or the gods.

That or Adam with a Gaint daughter who is super shy and somewhat childish.

-Eve couldn’t help but giggle softly, seeing you twirl around in your Halloween costume, as you had wanted to go as your favorite Einherjar warrior!

-When you had told your mama this she couldn’t help but smile, knowing that you were going to be so cute!

-Now here you were, all dressed up, ready to go out but first you wanted to go and see (Favorite) to show him your costume first!

-Lu Bu- Could only blink down at you, seeing a child friendly version of him as you beamed up at him. He was confused as to why you were dressed as him, kneeling down, “Why do you look like me?” your grin widened, excited that he liked it, “I wanted to be you for Halloween because you’re my favorite!” he couldn’t help but chuckle but he took you to Thor to show you off.

-Adam- While you couldn’t dress up exactly like him, Eve did help you make a fig leaf dress, and when you ran to him, “Papa!!” he all but melted, seeing that you were dressed up as him, complete with an apple and a bright grin on your face. It took a while to go trick or treating, as he kept wanting to take photos.

-Kojiro- Completely melted, seeing you dressed up like him, giving you a huge hug, “You look so strong Y/N! You’ve got to be the strongest swords user in the world!” you beamed, holding the hilts of your swords (foam swords), posing for him, “I wanted to dress up as you because you’re my favorite!!” he melted, almost to the point of tears, hugging you close.

-Jack- Hid his face behind his hands as he was blushing so hard, seeing you running up to him, “Lookie Jack, I’m you!” He couldn’t help but smile but at the same time he was worried, “Are you sure you want to be me?” you nodded, a grin on your face, “Why wouldn’t I? You’re always nice to me and you always dress fancy!” he chuckled softly, seeing the childlike innocence in you- you were too precious.

-Raiden- Beamed brightly, seeing you in a child friendly version of a sumo suit, with lines painted on your body, looking just like him when he was fighting Shiva and you beamed, “I’m the strongest!!” he boomed with laughter, picking you up, tossing you into the air, listening to your delighted squeals. Shiva held his heart after he received the photo of you and Raiden posing together.

-Buddha- The moment he saw you he couldn’t help but grin, “Ooh looks like I’ve got some competition for treats tonight!” you beamed, giving him a twirl, “Do you like it? I wanted to be you because you’re my favorite!” Buddha felt his heart squeeze as he collapsed to his knees, holding his chest, you were going to kill him with cuteness.

-Qin Shi Huang- Instantly dropped to his knees, bowing to you, “My emperor!” you giggled, running over as he opened his arms, hugging you close before you twirled, showing off your costume, “Do you like it? I wanted to be my favorite person for Halloween!” QSH was quick to get a swelled head, gushing to everyone that he was your favorite.

-Nikola- Immediately collapsed to his knees then to his side, tears welling on how adorable you looked! He couldn’t believe you dressed up as him as Thomas and Isaac were praising you for the costume, making you beam brightly as you spoke, “Nikola’s my favorite person so I wanted to be him!” Nikola was sure he was going to die from cuteness.

-Leonidas- Immediately was roaring with laughter, seeing you dressed up like him, even with a toy shield, a bright grin on your face, “Now who are you supposed to be?” you put your free hand on your hip, “I’m Leonidas- King of Sparta! And Y/N’s favorite person!” his soldiers couldn’t help but smile, thinking you were adorable while Leonidas grinned down at you- you were so cute!

[lou-struck]

Just Take One

Mammon x reader

Flufftober Day 1- Candy Bowl

WC: 1.6k

~ You take Mammon out Trick or Treating for the first time and his Greed catches up with him in the sweetest way possible.

Your time as an exchange student in the Devildom has made the unusual, a usual occurrence in your life. You have grown accustomed to Witches, Wizards, Vampires, Angels, Demons, and other creatures passing you in the streets of the Devildom.

But now, you are back in the human world on Hallows Eve. 

The Devildom celebrates Halloween, of course, but Trick or Treating isn’t really a thing; instead of going door to door accepting treats from Demons and Incubi, everyone dons their favorite costumes and parties till dawn.

But when Mammon heard that in the human world, you go door to door getting free candy from Humans, The Avatar of Greed got a special kind of glint in his sapphire eyes, the kind that he gets when he comes up with a Get rich quick scheme. and begged you to take him out Trick Or Treating. 

Although his intentions were not exactly noble, you found yourself unable to say no to the Great Mammon’s pleading gaze.

So now you find yourself wearing a witch costume belonging to one of Asmodeus’s past lovers as Mammon shifts into his Demon form. The green light from the portal shines on both your faces, glowing brighter and brighter as it swallows the two of you whole.

~

The portal pops the two of you to a human world suburb. Each and every house on the street is covered in decorative cobwebs, lights, and ghoulish decorations. 

The air is crisp and smells like apples and cinnamon as you walk down the street. “Are ya sure it’s alright for me to be out like this?” Mammon asks, catching a look at his horned reflection staring back at him. 

“Don’t worry, Mammon, Halloween is the night of the year that demons can blend in with the rest of the Human world. People will just think that you are wearing a really good costume.” You explain passing a group of teenage girls who cannot keep their eyes off of the handsome Demon. 

The sun has hardly set, but trick-or-treaters are out and about too focused on the prospect of free candy to notice the subtle magic happening right in front of them.

A little group of superheroes passes the two of you with their pumpkin buckets half full of candy.

“Do we need those to get our candy?” Mammon asks, his little wings twitching in anticipation; maybe it’s not just the grimm he’s excited for.

 “We will need something, but those buckets don’t hold a lot of candy.” you say, “and I hope you’ll give some to Beel when you get back; he’d be heartbroken if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, but then I’ll really need something bigger,” he says dejectedly, furrowing his brows in thought. 

“No worries, I got us covered,” you say happily, reaching out into your bag and pulling out two large pillowcases.

“That’s smart,” the Demon says. Most likely imagining how much candy he could fit inside the sheet. “I’ll make a killing on these human world treats when we get back to the Devildom, just like that Kitkat you had in your…” Mammon tries to cut himself off, but the damage has been done.”

“My Kitkat?” you say sharply, knowing the king-sized bar you thought you brought back from the Human world the last time you visited. But when the time came to unpack, it wasn’t in your bag.” You sold my KitKat?”

His eyes go wide as he frantically tries to come up with an excuse. But he can’t. Not when it’s you.” S-sorry Mc. I meant to tell ya, but I forgot.”

You roll your eyes and give him a hard yet playful flick to the forehead. “It’s fine, but you owe me,” 

I’ll give ya all the KitKats in my bag.” He offers as if he hasn’t just confessed to stealing your treat moments before. 

“That, and I get to pick from whatever king-size bars you get tonight.” you counter; he opens his mouth to counter but can’t seem to disagree with you.

“Fine, ya win. But don’t tell anyone the Great Mammon has gone soft.” he huffs, twisting the empty off-white pillowcase in his tanned hands. 

We’ll come on then; we have a lot of houses to hit if we want to fill our bags. You grin, reaching your free hand over to grab his other hand that is not holding a pillowcase, and drag the now-blushing Demon towards the first of many houses.

~

The two of you have been at it for an hour now and, despite your age, have amassed quite a large amount of candy. A few homes actually gave the two of you bigger handfuls since your costumes were so ‘authentic.’ Elderly ladies, especially, thought Mammon was the sweetest young man they had ever seen and poured a big portion of their bowl into his pillowcase with a giggle and a wink.

In the back of your mind, you wonder how quickly those little smiles would disappear if they were to discover it was a real demon on their doorsteps, not a costumed one.

He hasn’t noticed it yet, but the pillowcase you gave him was enchanted by Solomon to never fill completely. As you watch a teenager boredly dump some candy into the pillowcase, you bite the inside of your cheek. The pillowcase would’ve been great to have when you were younger, for sure.

Forty or so houses down the line, the two of you come across a sparsely decorated porch with a large bowl of candy left out on the welcome mat. 

Two things capture your attention. The first being a simply penned sign taped to the front of the dark plastic. 

‘Please Take One

The second is the mechanical candy arm that looms ominous over the bowl of sweets, threatening to clamp down on whatever crosses its path. You remember these from Halloween’s past; they are motion-activated and grab hands that move past them as a harmless little Halloween trick.

It’s obviously there to protect the bowl. But Mammon’s greed has him incapable of focusing on anything but the bowl of candy in front of him.

“Mc, we can empty this whole thing, and no one would know.” He grins, taking a step on the wooden porch. The boards creak slightly under his boots as he strides over to the bowl.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mammon,” you warn, reaching into the back pocket of your costume to take out your DDD. If this thing is going to go down the way you think it will, you are sure Lucifer and the others would love to see it caught on video.

He turns and looks back at you confidently, “Ya worry too much, Mc.” he beams, puffing out his chest. “Silly Humans knew what was we’re gonna do the minute they chose to leave the candy out here.”

“Alright, Mammon, if that’s really what you wanna do, then I won’t stop you.” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders in mock surrender, making sure to hide the camera lens sneakily behind the pillowcase to capture all the action. 

Mammon reaches for the edge of the candy bowl, his fingers carelessly knocking over the little sign. 

All of a sudden, a ghoulish, shrinking sound erupts from the bowl, and the mechanical arm swats down into the bowl. Mammon yelps in fright, dropping the bowl and his pillowcase of candy onto the porch. Candy goes flying everywhere, landing on the wood with a thud. A look of fear in his eyes as he turns tail and runs toward you, his wings flapping frantically as he reaches for you. “Mc, we gotta go; that thing is possessed or somethin.”

He grabs you firmly by the arm and tries to pull you to safety, but your feet stay firmly planted on the ground. You end the recording and laugh, “Mammon, look, it’s okay; it was only a prank.” you say, pointing back at the bowl that continues its mechanical movements. The little hand flailing around robotically. 

“What kind of prank was that?” he breathes out exasperatedly as you guide him back to the front porch. “The thing almost killed me.”

“Nope, you’re fine,” you respond, grinning at his over-the-top exaggeration. Knowing he has been subjected to harsher punishments back in the Devildom than just a mechanical slap on the wrist. 

Mammon’s cheeks are pink as he sheepishly walks back up to the porch to get his pillowcase, picking up the fallen candy bars from the bowl along the way. “Ya could’ve warned me.” He huffs, setting the candy bowl upright and replacing the collected candy inside it. The mechanical hand goes off again, causing Mammon to flinch slightly. But when the little hand barely taps him, he lets out a laugh. 

“See, that wasn’t terrible now, was it?” you tease, ruffling the snow-white hair between his curly horns. “Should we get going to the next house, or are you too scared?”

“That was nothin,” he laughs, taking two pieces of candy from the bowl and tossing one over to you. “The Chiuauuah hits harder than that thing. Let’s go, Mc. We got a big night ahead of us.” He steps off the porch and looks eagerly at the rows and rows of houses beyond. Each one promises candy and future riches for the both of you.

“Sounds good to me,” you say, taking his hand and letting him lead you towards the next house. In the back of your mind, you wonder what other funny little videos you can take of Mammon to show everyone once you get back. 

Tagging: @eussstasss @enchantedforest-network

[fandomnerd9602]

Wolf Spider pt. 2 (set during Scream VI)

Sam Carpenter x Spider Man!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Halloween time had come at last. And yet all was not calm for the Carpenter sisters and you, their friendly neighborhood Wolf Spider. The city was filled with masks and people in costumes. You knew all too well that anyone could wear a Ghostface mask, slash, and blend back into the crowd.

Trouble arrived the night before All Hallow's Eve. A murder of a film school student and his roommate. You snuck into the crime scene, Detective Bailey greeting you politely.

"Normally I wouldn't work with vigilantes" He intones.

"Well we're not under normal circumstances." you answer back. "knife?"

"Matches the slashes we found on that film studies teacher" Bailey answers back. His face goes ghostly pale.

"Ghostface"

"We don't know that yet!"

"Need more proof?" you head to the nearby ledge and swing out into the open air. You knew what it meant for your beloved girlfriend Sam and her sister Tara.

Your ear bud rings with the sound of your cell phone. A glance down to your phone reveals the caller id of Sam herself. Speak of the succubus herself.

"Hey honey" you answer the call. "How was your day?"

"My therapist was a total dick" she huffs.

You keep up the conversation while webswinging through the New York skyline, "Sweetheart, if i know a thing or two about blood, it's that you define you."

"But what about that incident with Richie?"

"I know several heroes who kill bad guys, it's only if you went after some innocent person that I'd get worried"

"Are you swinging?"

"M-Maybe"

"What have I told you about texting while swinging?"

"Well I'm not texting-" WHOOSH! A semi zooms right past you as you course correct your swing. "and that's why I love you so much, Sammie"

"Can you check on Tara for me?"

"Send me the party coordinates" you sigh as you swing toward NYU.

You found Tara drunk and being flirted with an obvious predator.

"Hey the lady and I were heading upstairs" the drunk college student continued pulling on Tara's arm. "Nice costume by the way"

"Sorry pal, you're heading downstairs" you sock the drunk predator straight in the jaw, knocking him clean out.

"I can handle myself, Y/N!" Tara intones before storming out of the party. "You're as bad as Sam sometimes!"

You quickly give chase. And so does Chad and Ethan. You charge after Tara and scoop her up before swinging off into the night.

"Where'd they go, dude?" Ethan asks your confused friend Chad.

"Put me down!" Tara drunkenly orders you.

"Well if you insist" you drop her from the height of your swing. Tara screams on the way down before you swing and scoop her up again.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Drinking's bad for your health and your grades, Carpenter" you offer a smirking smile under your mask. You come and set her down on top of the apartment's roof.

"Why can't you or Sam just allow me to make my own decisions?" Tara huffs.

"When you can start making the right ones." you huff back. "I don't mean to scare you but I can't let you wander the streets alone anymore."

"Why not?"

"Three murders recently." you remove your mask, "I think it might be-"

"Ghostface." Tara immediately sobers up before hugging you tight. "Thank you"

"You're like a sis to me, kid, I won't let anyone hurt you"

"What are we gonna tell Sam?"

"I don't know" you sigh, "could you tell her? I'm still on the hook for the whole texting and swinging incident"

Ghostface was loose in the Big Apple. You already knew who the targets were. Luckily, they had a Wolf Spider to back them up.

To Be Continued...

[mildlyanxiousverge]

The Slytherin trio(Barty, Evan, Reg) after running away from their rich families and living together at an apartment Reg got under his name not used to not having moneys so they made a plan and use their expertises to hustle in Hogwarts:

Reg being a god at potions and herbology, money maker, with a businessman's mind, with good manipulation tactics to make his products the 'it' factor😌 selling anti-sleeping potions (ravenclaws are his no.1 costumer with this), anti-nighmare(Slytherins, this is also why no one at the greenhouse messes with them), prank goos and other pranksy stuff(surprisedly this is a hit at the Huplepuffs), and anti-talking(the Gryffindors adored him for this one, I wonder why?👀) and other good stuff and convinces you to buy and agree to shit like he's Ursula and Dr. Facilier at the same time.

Barty selling his notes (he's got 12 owls, this bitch is smart), making his assignment duplicates and altering them with and altering spell he somehow knows, tutoring shit, making his mind open with answers at the exam and letting people enter, matchmaking king, he's Hogwarts cupid, he also does extra background checks for your crushes to see if they have red flags😌

Evan master at conviction and charm, he is rented for breakups because he can somehow make bad things sound like a dream, master at reasoning people need him when they want to win a fight, the messenger god, here to bring message from people are too cowardly to tell someone, sometimes people go to him to help the confess and barty is bitter because 'that's supposed to be his costumers Ev'.

They also have other deals, and can deal with your shit, so if you have a problem go to the trio for help, need to humiliate ur ex cuz he cheated? they've got you!!! Need your parents to never know the shit you do at school??? they'll cover!!!Need to kill someone but torture them brutally first???well...*looks to cannon* sorry not today

They also sell tea about people, they know shit, they know her ex's boyfriend's secret mistress, AND BLACKMAIL!!! Don't forget that they'll sell it at a high price!!! but if you need it, you know where to go!!! They can also get you out of trouble, no one knows how they'll do it but whatever they do works!!! They can prank someone you hate at a reasonable price (and they don't get caught unlike some people 🙄)

Regulus also got their business legalized(idk how he did it he's just that awesome) and have documents and does all thing legally (loopholes baby) with processes of contracts before agreeing with a client so something can't go wrong (and the teacher can't do about it) HAHSHSHAH

Pandora and Dorcas fully support them They're the managers and handles a lot of shit we don't talk about😌😏

Imagine Sirius' reaction when he finds out not only his brother run away but he also runs a sketchy yet legal(?) business with his friends and they're thriving JAjsjajajaHAJAHAHAH Remus at the background impressed about the whole thing and James drooling at Regulus' business suit atire AHAHSHAHAGHAAH Peter is a honorary member for being an investor with secrets, blackmails, and gossip that he adds

[zahri-melitor]

The Many Post-Crisis Christmases of Tim Drake

Yes, everyone gets a few Holiday issues over the years, but Tim’s got his own special levels of trauma associated with the holiday.

A round up of every time Tim appears in comics about Christmas, sorted by year:

1990: Identity Crisis - Batman #455-457 aka Janet Drake’s funeral. Janet is buried on Christmas Eve. Jack’s still in a coma. Tim is living with Bruce at this point. Tim spends a lot of this storyline having nightmares and worrying by Jason’s memorial case. At the very end, Bruce and Alfred give Tim his personal Robin costume and Tim goes out officially as Robin for the first time.

1996: Holiday Bash I – “Just Another Night” it’s just a small mention here, but given future events it’s worth noting. Tim leaves a Christmas card for Alfred, and Jack takes Tim to the Caribbean for the holidays. Very in line with Tim’s behaviour during this period, where he’s noted for giving Babs thank you notes.

1998: Holiday Bash III – “Alone for the Holidays” aka the single point in canon that supports Neglected Sad Boi Tim Drake. Tim is, as the title implies, alone for the holidays and moping about it. Jack and Dana are trapped in Chicago because the airport is closed due to snow (Why Jack and Dana are in Chicago is left to the reader). Babs and Dick call Tim over to the Clock Tower for a Loners Christmas Party. It will never not be funny to me that Alfred and Harold are at this Loners Party, but Bruce isn’t. Only a TRUE committed loner misses the family loners Christmas party.

1999: Endgame, No Man’s Land (LotDK #126, Batman #574, ‘Tec #741). If you are unfamiliar with this classic story, Joker kidnaps 36 babies on Christmas Eve in No Man’s Land and threatens to blow them all up. Tim gets called away from Christmas dinner with Jack (as a note, Tim’s outside NML at the dinner, then immediately dives inside for this. Never bother trying to make sense of how often Tim got in and out of Gotham during NML) and is helping track down the babies. It’s…traumatic for everyone involved.

2001: Young Justice #40. The Night Before Doomsday. This is the story where Santa dies and Young Justice find themselves having to deliver all the presents on his behalf.

2006: Slayride, ‘Tec #826. Tim is running away from a group of drug dealers and is offered a ride by a passing car. The car is driven by Joker. Tim gets tied up with Christmas lights and eventually distracts him via an argument with Joker about the Marx Brothers.

2008: “It’s a Wonderful Night” and “The Night Before Christmas”, DCU Holiday Special #1 2008. Two reminders that Tim has a hard time at Christmas in one!

“It’s a Wonderful Night” is a tear jerker where Dick goes looking for Tim to deliver a Christmas present. He finds him at a cinema watching a showing of It’s a Wonderful Life. Captain Boomerang Jnr is also there. Tim and Owen bond over their dead dads both liking the movie (which…given their dads killed each other, is a thing) and Dick gives Tim his old Robin costume. You WILL cry.

“The Night Before Christmas” is a Titans story, particularly notable as far as Tim goes in that Tim and Cassie talk about how the holidays remind Tim of the people he’s lost (and look, for perfectly good reasons, given the above).