#that's why they're pushing for it in the first place but that's just my opinion

[alexcabotgf]

not to be true crime posting on main but i think i'm falling down the wm3 rabbit hole again

[yumeka-sxf]

I've been waiting to see Yor's epiphany chapter in the anime and it did not disappoint! I felt like analyzing more than usual because I loved this episode so much~ 💖

I hope that any anime-only viewers who at this point still had the opinion that Yor's just ditzy/submissive, one-dimensional, or whatever negative traits associated with her, have changed their minds. Throughout the cruise arc we've seen so many sides of her character: how she's struggling to understand the exact reason why she's taking on these dangerous assignments when her original reason for doing it (supporting Yuri) no longer exists, how her internal desire to seek her own happiness - live a peaceful life like Olka - is at constant war with her diligence to complete her mission, her yearning to be with Loid and Anya and how sad she looks when she has to tell herself that they're just a cover-up family and she'll have to leave them without a word if anything drastic happens, and how much more confident she is when doing something she excels at - assassinating - yet still retaining her kind and polite demeanor (Unlike Twilight, who dons the mask of Loid Forger, Yor Forger is not a mask for Thorn Princess, at least not in terms of personality. So everything she says as Thorn Princess can be interpreted as her true feelings, including the now two times she's hesitated during fights because of the thought of having to leave the Forgers).

And, in the moment where she's facing death right in the eye, all the doubts she's had since getting this assignment culminate, not only causing the samurai assassin to get the upper hand, but causing her to take a deep, introspective look into her reason for fighting...if it's not for the same reason as the other assassins, what is it?

What's even more amazing is that these things about her character did not come out of nowhere just for the sake of a flashy climax. We saw in previous episodes that not only does she understands that being in the Forger family makes her happy, but most importantly, how she's lived her life only thinking of the happiness of others above her own. And what's most tragic is that, upon finally realizing that her original reason for being an assassin is gone (since Yuri no longer needs support) she's ready to die then and there...until she remembers Olka's words about wanting to live a peaceful life, which in turn makes her remember her core reason for becoming an assassin was to not only support Yuri, but to make the world he lives in all the more peaceful by eliminating the villains in it.

Despite how naive Yor is about many things (due to her upbringing), she's certainly not ignorant about the needless tragedies that exist in the world. And here is where she makes her decision to keep doing her assassinating, not because she enjoys killing people, but because the result of it will make the world a better place...because now, she has even more people whose happiness she desires to protect.

Even if she sacrifice her own happiness by leaving the Forgers, that's not as important to her as preventing tragedy from befalling her loved ones, or the world in general. And these thoughts are so similar to Twilight's reasons for becoming a spy! Coincidently, as Yor has these thoughts, she thinks of how Loid complimented this aspect of her personality way back when they first met...and the thought that the man who she trusts and respects so much would approve of her decision, gives her the final push to keep on going (I love that they reanimated this scene too and didn't just use the exact frames from episode 2).

So yeah, if anyone who wasn't sure of how much depth Yor's character has, I hope this episode shed a lot of light! This is the right way to make a character both cute/sweet but also a total badass who's strong on the outside as well as the inside.

(I will probably reword a lot of this for my upcoming Twiyor analysis posts but I couldn't wait until then, lol).

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

never expected to like you this much [i.engen x reader]

prompt: who would have thought ingrid and you would make it this far?

author notes: this is my peace offering for my like week long hiatus. my writing is a bit rusty so spare me 🙏🏾 hope y'all like it!

when you first got into a relationship with ingrid you thought it would be just a casual thing. nothing too serious, nothing too deep. you were only twenty one at the time while ingrid was twenty three. the people around you have always instilled in you that your twenties was for discovery, partying, and finding out what you liked in a relationship. not the time to be tied down to one person. you use to agree to that, but it was hard when you started to associate the norwegian with home.

when you started to miss her when she wasn't around and wait around for her texts when she went off for international games. can you really be blamed? ingrid was so charming in such a calm way. she was this comforting presence who was just enough of everything somehow.

now it has been two years, you being twenty three and ingrid being twenty five. she was way more than something casual now and truly you can't be blamed for it.

how could you two be anything casual when ingrid's hands rub on your back so gently as you complain about your shitty day. she finds your exaggeration and dramatic flair so interesting as you dig into how annoying your co worker was today.

something about having to share a project with complete idiots escape your lips as well, but ingrid can't really tell. she is trying to pay attention, she swears, but you're just so gorgeous. and your skin is so soft against her hands. it's hard to focus.

"and you know what else? one of those bastards ate my lunch today. that you packed for me right before you left for practice! isn't that so heartbreaking, babe? like ugh.." you groan out.

"totally, baby. i'll make sure to put something they're allergic to in the lunch tomorrow so you don't even have to worry about it," ingrid says with that adorable small smile on her lips. you turn your head a bit to get more of a view of her. "really?" you say in a tone that sounds way too serious

ingrid laughs at your genuine seriousness, "what? god no. i'll just pack you something dry so you don't have to put it in the fridge. all fixed babe."

you groan and turn your head away from her. your girlfriend was too nice for her own good in your opinion, but it's a good look on her so you let it slide this time around.

nothing is casual is about the way you reassure ingrid before a big game. you two's bodies pressed against each other you slowly sway back and forth. your head resting on her chest, her head resting on top of yours.

"you are a great footballer. that's why you're in this position, playing at one of the best clubs in women's football, in front of such a large crowd. you will do great babes" you say softly. ingrid hums in response. placing a kiss on the top of your head in thanks. the worry in the norwegian player's heart before a big game always bothered her. would she do well enough? how good would her playing be today? it was hard to push away such thoughts when she remembers what position she is in. however hearing about it from your mouth makes it seem way less stressful and better than it feels. your reassurance is definitely her lucky charm now.

and you definitely knew it wasn't casual when you started to imagine how it would be like to start a family with the norwegian.

ingrid is holding up your little sister, grace, making airplanes with the toddler who is giggling. "who's the cutest babygirl in the world? you are," ingrid says as she starts to kiss all over grace's face. the sigh was adorable and feeding your baby fever so bad. ingrid is still playing around with grace while you're already thinking about what clinics to visit after this.

yeah, this is nowhere near casual.

[cosmicpoutine]

leaving a lil rant here :]

I love Tim and his ships sm. Me personally, I only really ship TimKon. Those two are perfect for eachother and have so much clear queer coding that it’s crazy, and they have dialogue that’s just. gay shaped.

I also get TimBart, I don’t ship it romantically but I get why people do!! Tim and Bart are close as well, and the balance they get between ‘depressed tired wet cat’ and ‘living breathing embodiment of adhd’ is great.

I also get TimBartKon, they’re a trio. They are always a trio, so many people like to bring up how TimKon has so much coding and one of the big examples they use is when Tim tried to clone Kon. You know who else he tried to clone? Bart.

The only Tim ship I don’t get is TimBern, or any ship involving those two. When Bernard first appears, he’s Tim’s bully. He actively makes fun of tim and puts him down and then that character is forgotten about until Tim comes out as bi, then they just rework his character and go “haha guys this is his boyfriend not bully ygs are crazy” and just forget about all the bad stuff Bernard did? Reworking a character is great and all but, it just feels a bit weird and out of place for me. There’s always going to be that certain toxicity for TimBern, at least for me.

homie... bully??? im flabbergasted- im speechless- im jason todd (dead)

okay, im gonna start off by saying you have all the right to not ship them, and im not here to defend timbern as a ship. im here to defend BERNARD DOWD.

first thing bernard does is give tim advice about teachers, and he clearly says they're gonna be good friends.

if bernard was a bully, tim wouldn't hang around him so much. besides, i hate it when people place tim as a helpless little boy who would get bullied. he has put himself in situations where he looks weak on purpose to keep his identity safe, but he's not a victim at all. tim is a social butterfly because he's really good at masking and reading people.

not to mention, both bernard and darla push tim a lot because they're trying to get him to open up and be closer to them, but he keeps pushing them away. tim is a professional liar.

and when tim has to quit robin and start hanging out with normal people, he invites bernard over.

and bernard is acting relatively normal, and he wants to play video games and talk about how hot tim's stepmom is.

bernard is a normal teenager who has no idea one of his friends is the hero he's so obsessed with. he even shows concern for robin dying and makes up an entire conspiracy theory about batman havin a robin orphanage. you can tell he's afraid of robin being gone for real because at this point they haven't seen robin in months bc tim retired.

i dont know what about all of these interactions gave you the vibe that he's a bully because all i see is a normal teenager teasing his friends and being jealous tim gets more bitches.

im not saying that bernard was never mean or weird around tim, but he definitely wasn't actively bullying tim.

bernard is obnoxious and cocky, yes. but thats just because they wrote him as a real person. he's the school's chameleon, maybe even a little bit of a loser, too. he knows everyone but keeps a safe distance so that he doesn't get pushed into a box. im not sure if, at this point, he was already in a cult or being indoctrinated, but when we see his parents and the dowd home in tim drake: robin that just doesn't look right.

also homie talk about "forgetting all the bad things bernard did" (which in my opinion is none but okay lets follow that logic) everyone forget about all the bad things batman did to tim, he was not a kind and loving mentor, he was cruel to both tim and steph. we forget that batman was kind of an asshole to damien in the beginning. all those things are forgotten for the sake of the batfam.

in conclusion: we're just so used to the idea that superheroes can only ever form strong friendship bonds by having near death experiences together that we forget that the secret identifies exist and that the people who know them by their legal name also means a lot to them. after all, these people are the reason why they're heroes.

[hedgehog-moss]

The text updates I was sending a friend while at the protest in Paris yesterday are kind of tragically funny, it goes from "the cops are staying away and as a result everything's going well, they clearly received better orders today, I'm glad" to "wait, no, forget that"

1. "Everything's going well, there are a couple of small fires but no one cares, the crowd calmly avoids them, some people stop to warm their hands over them, it's very civilised. I don't think the people who set stuff on fire are the problem, when the cops stay away everything goes smoothly"

2. "There are groups of CRS with batons and shields in the side streets but they stay very discreet compared with the other protests and weirdly enough this one is calmer!"

3. My friend : "Maybe they received different orders today"

Me "Yeah it's a miracle, someone made a sensible decision"

4. "We just passed another side street full of cops and I heard someone said "last time they started charging us, we had no idea why" so yeah they clearly received different instructions today"

Less than 10min later: "never mind we're being tear gassed"

Then: "Never mind they just charged us several times we have no idea why"

"I arrived at the end point of the march, looked back and there was a fresh new cloud of tear gas over the (very calm, many elderly people) groups in the middle of the march. More police cars + a water cannon are arriving"

Can't overstate how calm the protest was, just people (100K to 300K according to estimates) walking from point A to point B while holding signs. There were a few trash fires but if they'd sent firefighters to extinguish them people would have let them through... I had friends who walked in the middle of the march to avoid any trouble or gas and they still got tear gassed without knowing why. Even supposing there were people ahead of me I couldn't see who were being more antagonistic towards the CRS, surely the hundreds of cops present could have somehow dealt with that without charging and bludgeoning peaceful protesters and tear gassing thousands of people? Right now it's not possible for French citizens to peacefully assemble without getting systematically gassed by police.

Here's a video of when they first charged the front of the march, the people they're hitting can't move back any faster (I was somewhere in the compact crowd behind wondering (cause I'm not tall I couldn't see anything 😭) why we were suddenly being pushed back when things had been calm and fun until then. People who had been there before were coaching others like 'don't try to run, you'll make the people behind panic, just walk fast'). I counted five or six tear gas grenades going off

From what I've heard from people who were at the protest, the ones who didn't get gassed are the ones who were at the back of the march and left early without completing the march (some left because they saw the cloud of gas ahead). I've also seen people at other protests in various cities yesterday describing a similar situation : peaceful crowd getting separated in two by a charge, gassed and soaked with water cannons, most people having no idea why. If I had to describe this in terms of police strategy it would be, gas as many people as possible to dissuade your average peaceful protester from completing the march and showing up next time, and be aggressive towards the front of the march to rile them up and get nice images of youth burning things or throwing stuff at cops to show on the evening news and turn public opinion against protesters.

(Note that the society of journalists working for France Télévision (public TV, like the French BBC) have published a statement decrying the poor framing of the protests on the national news, saying too much emphasis was placed on the small amount of people destroying stuff and almost nothing on police brutality and the record numbers of (peaceful) protesters in the streets.) (Read this if you're French and have been wondering why some people around you still don't think the situation is worrying...)

Anyway, I'm glad I went. It was good to see so many people just as angry as I am about what's happening to this country and guillotine-chan was in attendance, and many people had very fun signs and I liked this angry flag:

[markdelonge]

Dating Eminem...

not my gif

note: i KNOW yall are pissed @ me for taking so fuckin long, sorry anon. uhhh this'll be a 90s eminem thingy but if u want a more recent one lmk

...

request?: yes

contains: mentions of drugs and alcohol, maybe sex idk yet

masterlist

...

• listening to him rap/sing

he would go to you if he was iffy about a rhyme, he'd rap it for you and get your opinion.

• dates that aren't really dates

you guys practically live on the road so you never really had the time to actually have a real date, so the two of you count almost every time you spend time alone as a "date"

• calming him down

• literally being his safe place

he goes to you first when bad things happen, you're the first one on his mind when he wants comfort, your calm aura never fails to soothe him

• you're off limits

you're the crossing line for him (does that make sense?) like he doesn't give a fuck if someone says something about him in a track, but if they say something about you????? all hell breaks loose

• going on tour with him

he never wants to leave your side. he wanted you there with him the entire way

• probably ending up working for him

as an assistant or somethin like that, just more reasons to spend time with each other.

• late studio nights

he would insist on driving you home some nights if he was there with you past 12am, he didn't want you to feel like you were trapped there with him, but you assured him that you were fine wherever he was :)

• smoking weed / drinking together

he doesn't let you do all the hard drugs (at least not around him) he thinks you're too good for that. there was once Swifty offered you ecstasy and Slim almost lost his mind.

• wearing his clothes

no doubt that Slim's clothes are huge, they're hella big on him, so they're gigantic on you. he loves seeing you in his clothes, its one of his ways of claiming you his

• cheek kisses

cheek kisses from both of you 24/7 !! in public, before he goes on stage, as a pose for pictures. its really cute

• him teaching you how to fight

just in case he's not there to protect you was his excuse. he would try his very best not to hurt you. although both your fists were padded with gloves, the second it would make contact with you, he'd bombard you with apologies.

• listening to music together

• watching movies

you guys have that one movie that you always watch together. kinda like how some couples have a song, you two have a movie :)

• writing lil love notes on his arm

with a sharpie so it wouldn't come off :)) it isn't much, usually just a "hey, i love you" with a heart or something. just a lil reminder that you're there for him

• not too much pda.

hugs, cheek kisses, holding hands. he's not the type of person that would make out with you in front of a bunch of people.

• he only refers to you as his "girl"

while talking to his friends he'd be like "Yo, you know where my girl is?" or something like that. Its to the point where his friends call you "Slim's girl".

• omg he's so cuddly in private.

• or when he's high

laying completely on top of you with his head in your chest, his head in your lap, cuddled into your side. he's literally OBSESSED with you. theres no other way to put it.

• you've 100% been the main girl in one of his music videos.

• he does dumb things just to impress you

like he'd do some complete idiotic move to make him seem cool and after he did it he'd immediately go "where's my girl? did she see that shit?" and you in fact did see that shit and were very worried.

• he trusts you with his life

even he doesn't know why he has so much trust in you, he had tried to push himself away and hide his feelings multiple times but it never worked. every time he tried, he'd fall more.

• sex !

Marshall is 100% the dominant one when having sex. there'd be times where he'd let you get on top, but he'd still have a dominant hold on you.

• him completely spoiling you.

he's the type to pay attention to the things you look at in stores and go back later by himself, get it for you, and surprise you later on. you've told him thousands of times that you didn't want him to spend his hard earned money on you like that but he never listens.

• it's because he loves you a lot.

• he makes sure he says it too.

• like all the time

even if you're on opposite sides of the room he'd find a way to get your attention and mouth "I love you" which it takes a few times for you to get what he's saying but after a while you'd finally catch on and say it back but aloud so everyone in the room hears it.

• lets say when this mf falls, he falls HARD

• das it, thx for reading :)

[ashwhowrites]

Enemies to lovers

Robin x reader

So maybe if you could write an enemies to lovers with robin and there is a rivalry between them but then something happens and the dynamics completely switch but they're still kind of bitchy to eachother

I was thinking maybe 9,11,14,23,32 and 40 from the angst list and then 4,18,21,28 and 34 from the fluff list and then to top it of with 14,19,25 and 35 from the smut list

Requested by @seasonofth3witch

Reader is very open about her sexuality

Y/N never understood why Robin had an issue with her. When she first met Robin, she honestly thought she was one of the hottest girls she has ever seen in her life. She was sarcastic and sassy.

Y/N can't lie, seeing Robin screaming at her just aroused her even more. The way her face turned red. Her lips would puff out. Her eyebrows scrunched together and her nose followed. She was breathtaking.

So when Robin decided to hate her guts, she couldn't deny that it stung. It was like she hated her before giving her a chance.

But Y/N wasn't a push over. If Robin was out for blood, she'd put up a fight.

~~

When Robin first heard about Y/N it was from Steve. She was his latest obsession. Robin easily got annoyed when Steve could freely talk about women. If she were to do it, people would judge her. Shame her.

She hated it even more that Steve could be with any girl he met. He didn't have to worry about her sexuality, or hiding their love. She found herself easily jealous over Steve.

And when she met Y/N, jealously planted it's roots in her heart.

She was gorgeous. Easily the most beautiful girl she's ever seen in her life. And she was into Steve, go fucking figure.

She watched as Y/N threw her arms around Steve's neck and how he spun her around.

Robin felt her eyes roll, blushing slightly when Y/N noticed her action.

Y/N smiled anyway and place her hand out to Robin.

Robin hated how her smile made her even more gorgeous. A gorgeous girl for Steve.

Robin faked a smile and shook the girl's hand. Trying to ignore the sparks she felt and butterflies flying in her stomach.

~~

It's been months since they met and Robin still feels jealousy. A burning monster that takes over her mouth and body.

It's like whenever she's near Y/N, the monster makes an appearance.

Robin later found out that she wasn't actually into Steve. They were old childhood friends, and she recently moved back home.

But that didn't matter. Robin couldn't turn the tables on her now, then she'd have to admit why she was so hostile at first. And she was not going to admit that.

~~

In the beginning Y/N tried to brush off Robin's attitude towards her. Maybe she wasn't good at meeting new people. Y/N vowed to always be nice and give her time to warm up.

~~

"Steve and I are going to see the new horror film, do you want to go? I could pick you up?" Y/N smiled sweetly at her but Robin didn't soften up.

"I rather do literally anything than sit in a movie theater with you."

Unless it was them alone, where she could sneak her hand up Y/N's skirt

~~

"I heard you loved chocolate and I got so much for Christmas, do you want to share?"

"I don't need your regifts."

But she'd love to melt chocolate over her skin and lick it off

~~

"Rob! This color blue would look amazing on you."

"I don't remember asking for your opinion."

Robin did secretly buy every clothing item in that color.

~~

Sooner than later Y/N began to bite back. Robin clearly didn't warm up to her after months of knowing her so she gave up.

"Hey Steve don't forget, party at my house tonight!"

Robin looked up, party? Why wasn't she told?

"what about me Steve?"

Y/N overheard the question. With a smirk she snapped back to Robin.

"Sorry. Friends only. Don't really care to have you around."

~~

"Well I vote to watch comedy" Robin stated out loud to the group, as they sat at Steve's for a movie night.

"No one wants to watch your shitty picks Rob."

Robin could feel her blood boil at the sound of Y/N's voice.

~~

After so many comments to one another, they couldn't breathe near each other without fighting.

"ROB ACCEPT THAT YOU ARE WRONG!"

"I AM NOT WRONG!"

"what are they fighting about now?" Steve sighed as he watched the two girls practically go at each other's throats.

"I have no idea." Nancy said. Confusion as to why these two girls always but heads.

~~

The more Robin got to know Y/N, the more she began to fall for her.

But she couldn't, it would only lead her to be heartbroken.

It was easier to hate her than to love her.

~~

The more they fought the more Y/N felt herself craving Robin.

She wanted to swallow Robin's hot words down her throat.

For once shut her up as she fucked her.

The only problem was, if she fucked her, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

~~

Their next big blowout ended very badly. A lot of damage was done that Robin wasn't sure she could come back from.

Robin remembered her blood boiling as Y/N had a girl pressed against the wall, her tongue down this girl's throat. Y/N's hands were running down the girls body, hiking a leg around her waist.

Robin could hear the girl moan over the loud music in the living room. She tried to move away but ended up seeing them from a different angle. From here Robin could see Y/N's fingers working themselves into the girl's cunt.

Robin felt herself grow wet as her eyes trained on Y/N's fingers skillfully working this girl to an orgasm. It wasn't her first time. She had to be gay in a sense. Robin watched as the girl fell apart, orgasm washing over her as Y/N swallowed her moans with a kiss. She left the girl panting and shaking in the corner of the living room. No care to the party going on around them. No care to watchful eyes.

Y/N removed her fingers from the girls cunt and sucked them clean. As she cleaned them off she looked to the side to see Robin staring at her.

A dark look took over Robin's eyes. It was a look of heat, lust and desire. She could see Robin clenching her thighs together. The movement caused her small blue dress to move up. Y/N could feel the drooling filling her mouth as she looked at the new skin available.

When she caught Robin's eyes again she smirked at the glare Robin was sending the random girl.

Jealous? She thinks so.

Y/N excused herself to the kitchen, needing another drink. She was already definitely drunk. Not usually the type to finger a girl in public at a party sober.

"You'd think you would have more respect for yourself than to be just a slut in public." She heard Robin hiss from behind her.

She quickly turned to see the girl close, practically chest to chest at this point.

"me a slut? I don't know Rob. From where I was it seemed like you were enjoying the show. What does that make you?" She smirked as Robin blushed underneath the low lights.

Even if she couldn't see her fully in the party lights, she knew Robin looked gorgeous tonight. Delicious enough to devour.

When Robin didn't answer, Y/N stood closer. Now basically nose to nose. If she leaned in an inch more their lips could touch.

"So quiet now baby. What is it? Are you a little bit jealous? Do you wish you could fuck me Rob? Or want me to fuck you?"

Robin wanted to smack the smirk off of Y/N's face. She hated how right she was. She hated that Y/N could read her like a book even when she tried to hide herself with a cover.

But Robin couldn't let herself sink into the game. Y/N was testing her and she needed to come back on top.

"You know Y/N, not everyone wants you. I certainly don't. I don't want you. I don't even fucking like you. I can't stand you. You're selfish, stubborn and such a goddamn bitch. How people even care about you is beyond me. I will never be jealous over anyone you fuck. Because I wouldn't touch you even if you got on your knees and begged me."

Y/N felt like she was sobering quickly. Embarrassed and hurt filling her bones. All this time she thought maybe Robin disliked her because she was attracted to her. Some type of sexual tension that she would feed fire into.

But no, Robin came with a bucket of water and threw it on the fire. She made it clear, and Y/N had to accept the girl she secretly was in love with, would never like her.

"Damn Rob. And all this time I thought it was just sexual tension between us. But I'm glad you told me how you really feel. I'll make sure to leave you the fuck alone." Y/N threw her full drink to Robin's feet. Pushing past her with a hard shove as she ran out.

~~

Robin knew she fucked up. She knew she hurt Y/N and she couldn't come back from that.

It's been two days since the party, and she hasn't seen her since.

It was like she disappeared in thin air.

She wanted to ask about her, but she couldn't let anyone know she secretly cared. She hated that she could see the exact moment Y/N's eyes changed into hurt.

She was supposed to hate her.

And hating someone never felt so hard.

~~

When the gang got together for their next movie night, it was Robin's pick.

She nervously looked over at Y/N the whole night. She didn't say a word to her. Not like they talked every second but something was usually said by now.

When she picked a movie she knew Y/N hated more than anything, she turned to her for a reaction, as did the rest of the gang.

But she sat there silently, picking at her nails.

The gang eyed her weirdly but no one said anything.

Robin quickly put in the movie and went back to her seat.

Radio silence has never hurt so bad before.

~~

Every time Y/N saw Robin or even heard her name, the embarrassment filled her again. She didn't want Robin to know how bad her words affected her but she had to distance herself.

It hurts too much to sit there and act like nothing has changed between them. Like Robin didn't tell her that she could never care for Y/N, even as a friend.

She was never insecure but now she second guessed herself about everything. What if her other friends thought she was a bitch too. Do they think that?

They were Robin's friends first, maybe they all thought the same thing but Robin was the only one that had the balls to admit it.

~~

In a silent agreement Robin and Y/N simply ignored each other.

The gang questioned what happened between the two but neither spoke about it.

Robin felt guilty but was too proud to admit that.

Y/N was embarrassed and didn't want her friends knowing how hard she fell for Robin. She didn't need the pity looks.

She knew Robin would never love her. She doesn't need to hear everyone say it.

~~

Robin came down with chicken pox. She was itchy everywhere and constantly annoyed.

Her parents were gone so she had to somehow take care of herself. Which was hard since she had to tape mittens to her hands so she would stop fucking scratching.

She called Steve and begged him to help. He said he's never gotten the chicken pox and he wasn't going to get them now. But he'd send over help.

And when help showed up at her door, she wished she never asked.

~~

Y/N nervously rocked on her feet. This was a bad idea. Robin would not want her here. But she was the only one in the gang that apparently has had chicken pox before so she was sent to help the girl out.

Help the girl who hates her guts.

She swears God is being cruel on purpose.

But the love she held for Robin took over and she wanted to nurse her back to health.

Once she got enough courage she knocked on the door with her free hand. The other hand is holding a bag of food, drinks, movies, and books. If Robin allowed her to stay, she needed something to entertain her.

When Robin opened the door a big frown took over her face.

~~

Great, Robin thought.

She's sick, covered in red dots, no make up and hair not even brushed. Old pjs of a T-shirt and small shorts with fuzzy socks.

Not how she wanted to look when she saw Y/N again.

God was being cruel on purpose.

Y/N thought the opposite. She thought Robin was somehow even cuter sick. Her no make-up face was still breathtaking, her freckles really stood out. Her crazy bed hair had Y/N thinking of what her sex hair would look like. But she quickly shook that thought behind.

She was her because Robin was sick.

"I brought chocolate." Y/N said with a small smile and shrugged shoulders. Fully expecting Robin to slam the door on her face. To her surprise, Robin opened the door wider and stepped aside.

Her smile got bigger as she walked through the door. Removing her shoes and following Robin's lead to her bedroom.

"sorry for the mess." Robin blushed as she cleared off her bed.

"no worries. My room is definitely worse." She laughed. Her heart warmed when Robin let out a small chuckle.

"alright which film first?"

~~

Around three movies later, Robin was close to falling asleep.

Y/N noticed Robin's eyes getting heavy. The clock read it was near 10 pm.

"You seem tired. I'll get out of your hair." Y/N said quietly as she began to move from the bed. Cleaning up the snacks and drinks around her.

She began to grab her keys when Robin's small voice stopped her.

"Could you stay a little bit longer?”

Y/N didn't know what to say.

She wanted her to stay? She turned to look at her, hoping to read her expression.

Robin's eyes were red and heavy. Just blinks away from falling asleep.

"Yeah Rob, of course." She smiled softly and Robin's lips turned into a smile.

Y/N went to sit at the edge of the bed, where she was sitting before, when Robin scooted over to her wall and patted the space next to her.

"You want me to lay next to you?" Y/N asked. She was confused. Robin wasn't anything like how she usually is when it comes to Y/N.

~~

Robin felt her body flush in heat. Maybe she shouldn't have asked her to stay. Maybe she shouldn't have asked her to lay down.

She feels like an idiot. Right as she was about to tell her nevermind, Y/N took off her jeans.

Robin blushed at the sight of her legs and thighs. Her shirt covered her panties, thankfully otherwise Robin might actually burst in flames.

Y/N crawled in next to Robin and turned her head to face the tv, away from Robin's eyes.

Robin couldn't watch the movie, her eyes kept landing back to Y/N body laying next to her. The tv highlights the sides of her face. She was so effortlessly gorgeous. Laying there with no makeup, full attention to the film.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it was soothing. It was relaxing. And it somehow felt right.

Robin couldn't help herself as she slowly itched her hand closer to Y/N's that rested on her own stomach.

Once she felt her hand made contact with Y/N's she quickly shut her eyes. Fake snores leaving her mouth.

"Rob? Hey Rob? Are you asleep?" She heard Y/N softly whisper. Her breath hitting Robin's lips.

She kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep.

Robin tried not to smile when she felt Y/N lace their fingers together and her body scoot closer.

"Sweet dreams Rob." Her heart warmed as she felt a kiss to her nose.

She kept fake sleeping until she truly fell asleep, her heart slowly beating in rhythm with the girl that laid next to her.

~~

Robin groaned as she felt the sun shining in her eyes. Throwing an arm over eyes to block out the disturbance.

She rolled over to hide her head into her pillow when she smelled a shampoo that wasn't hers. She opened her eyes fully to see her bed empty but the scent still lingered.

That's when she remembered, she asked Y/N to stay the night.

Robin felt herself frown as she looked at the empty bed. Her room is now a tad bit more clean than last night. Her tv was shut off. The silence in the room felt like it was suffocating her. She removed herself from her bed and changed into new clothes.

She made her way to the kitchen and froze when she saw Y/N standing there in front of the stove, nothing but the same shirt and panties from the night before.

Robin clenched her thighs when Y/N reached up to grab plates from the cabinet. Her shirt rose up and she could see how her panties shaped the globes of her ass so wonderfully. She wanted to come behind her and grip her ass as she rutted herself against her.

Robin decided she needed to speak up, not keep staring at her.

"I thought you left."

Y/N jumped at the sudden voice. And turned around.

She smiled at Robin, looking adorable in her huge blue sweatshirt and small shorts. Hair thrown up in a messy bun, pieces that couldn't fit laid against her neck. Her small red bumps are mostly gone.

"Nope! Just making pancakes." She smiled brightly.

"you know, you wear that color blue a lot. It's nice on you." She complimented as she turned back around.

Robin blushed, silently remembering why she bought this color blue in the first place.

~~

After that day Y/N thought things were going to be better between them. Robin seemed to have opened up around her, and wanted her to stay.

Y/N hoped at least a friendship was forming.

But she was wrong. She was reminded once again that Robin did not like her.

~~

The gang was at another party, trying to have every bit of teenage fun they could manage.

Robin has been avoiding Y/N at all costs. Refusing to look in her direction during group conversations, purposely standing the furthest away.

She did a whole 180 on her. She wanted her to stay and now she doesn't seem to care if they know each other or not.

But Y/N wasn't going to dwell on it. This behavior from Robin shouldn't shock her anymore.

Y/N spent the night dancing with the prettiest girl she could find. She wanted to feel things for someone else that she felt with Robin. She wanted to feel that heat and desire.

She let the girl grind herself all over her. She placed her hands on the girl's hips and moved with her. The girl had her head thrown back in a moan as Y/N slipped her leg in between her thighs. Now grinding her clothed clit against Y/N's thigh. Y/N could feel herself biting back a moan as the girl sucked on her neck, definitely leaving a hickey behind.

~~

"how does she find a girl every single time?" Steve whined as he watched Y/N and this random girl basically dry hump each other in the middle of the living room.

"She's hot Steve." Nancy said as she laughed at his displeasure.

Robin didn't seem to be enjoying it either. Racing breaths coming from her body. She doesn't know if her face was full of heat from the drink in her cup or from what her eyes had to watch.

Watch the girl she's been trying to ignore feelings for, once again give another girl an orgasm during a party. Robin remembered last time this happened she said things she shouldn't have. Before she made that mistake again she headed for the kitchen for some water, hoping to cool down whatever is making her body hot.

"Hey you are Rob right?" A breathless voice came from beside her.

It was the same girl from the other party that Y/N messed around with.

"it's Robin." She corrected, no friendliness in her tone.

"Oh sorry. Y/N always calls you Rob, speaking of her I was wondering if she has said anything about me? I gave her my number but she never called." The girl asked nervously, her fingers twiddling.

"Um no. But her and I don't really talk." Robin shrugged, softening the blow just a bit.

"oh really? She talks about you a lot like you guys were friends. But nevermind then. I guess I'll have to find her or something." The girl quickly went to run off. Jealousy and a sting of guilt filling Robin, Y/N talked about her all the time. In front and to other girls.

With a sigh Robin headed back to the living room, seeing Y/N now talking to the girl Robin ran into. Smiling and laughing. Robin rolled her eyes. She hated how easy it was for every other girl to talk to Y/N so freely. Not initiated or scared by her.

She watched as Y/N kissed the girls cheek and headed to the bathroom. The girl smiled after her, in a daze.

Robin tried to act as it didn't bother her when Y/N walked right past her. Not even a slight movement in her eyes.

"Hey did you see where Y/N went?" The girl from the dance floor asked as she walked up to Robin.

Another one really?

"no." She snapped. Why was she forced to be an Y/N expert all of a sudden.

"well I really need to go so if you could give her my number. That'd be great!" She handed Robin a piece of paper.

" I wouldn't bother, Y/N has this thing where she acts like she cares. She'll fuck you no doubt. Make it so good your head will spin. Then when you wake up she'll be gone. And I promise you she won't call you again. She doesn't settle down. Kind of a one night stand type of girl. Guess she got too used to people not wanting more than sex from her so she became best at it. " Robin declared as confident as she could like she would know.

But Robin truly didn't know. She had no idea what Y/N was like in bed. If she hooked up once and left. If she stayed to hold whoever it was. She wished she knew.

The girl wasn't sure what to say so she awkwardly laughed and slowly walked away.

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.” Y/N spoke up. Robin's head quickly turned to see her standing there. Arms crossed and eyes a tad bit watery.

Robin felt her expression fall, yet again she fucked up.

"Don’t look at me like you’re sorry. You’re not sorry.” Y/N scoffed.

Robin quickly stuttered out, "no that's not... that wasn't...I didn't...I am sorry."

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned around. Once again running out of a party because of Robin.

But this time Robin followed her.

Racing out to the front yard, "Y/N JUST WAIT!"

"NO ROBIN. I'M FUCKING DONE!"

"Don't call me that please. It's Rob remember? And I am sorry."

"Sorry for what Robin? Hating me before you even gave me a chance? Treating me like shit when we are hanging out with our friends? Slut shaming me? Telling me you could never care about me? Telling girls that I'm just a good fuck and that's all I have? So what part?" Y/N asked. .

Maybe hating Y/N wasn't the right way to go with things. Maybe she should've been honest. Maybe this is now the time.

"do you want me to fuck you, Robin? Is that what this is? Sexually frustrated from being near me all the time?" Robin gulped as Y/N got nose to nose to her.

A weak nod from Robin caused Y/N to smirk.

"Then let's go." Y/N demanded as she began to walk to her car

~~

Robin had no idea what Y/N had planned. She had no idea why she followed Y/N to her car with no hesitation.

And now Robin found herself in her own bedroom, and not alone.

~~

Y/N had Robin right here she wanted her.

"Strip." She demanded.

Robin's body heated as Y/N checked her out.

Robin slowly unzipped her dress, letting it fall to her feet. She bent forward to pull down her tights.

Now she stands in front of a fully dressed Y/N, in nothing but her matching underwear.

Robin felt her self grow self conscious as Y/N stared at her. Subconsciously covering herself with her hands.

Y/N quickly walked up to Robin and removed her hands.

"Stop. You are beautiful." She said.

After months of back and forth, Y/N finally got to kiss the girl of her dreams.

~~

Robin was panting hard.

She was on her back, completely naked and at Y/N's mercy.

A vibrator buzzing on her clit, that Y/N has refused to move for minutes.

"you are going to hold that vibrator on your clit until you cum. Do you understand?" Y/N demanded as she lowered her face towards Robin's cunt.

Robin nodded fast and grabbed the vibrator. Pressing it harshly against her clit. Moaning at the feeling of vibrations shooting through her body.

"OH FUCK!" Robin screamed as Y/N plunged one finger into her cunt.

"look at you. One finger in and you are screaming for me" Y/N mocked as she began to pump two fingers inside of her. Fingering as deep as she could.

"So warm and tight Rob." Robin felt her pussy clench hearing Y/N call her Rob as she fingered her.

Robin's moans grew louder and closer together. Hips bucking up to match the pace of Y/N's fingers. Her clit pulsing from the vibrator.

"I'm gonna cum." She whispered. Moans leaving her mouth in a higher pitch.

Y/N smirked as she watched Robin fall apart.

"I only came because of the vibrator." Robin said as she turned it off and moved it to the side. Y/N smirk got bigger as she thrust a third finger into Robin's cunt.

'oh fuck" Robin gasped.

" are you saying I can't make you cum by myself with no toys involved? You are going to regret that, I'm going to fucking ruin you."

Robin should have kept her mouth shut.

Because now she was three orgasms in and Y/N hadn't removed herself from between Robin's thighs.

She was sucking and licking Robin's thighs. Fingers are still slowly pushing into her. It was messy and wet. Y/N's tongue was thrashing against Robin's clit harshly. With each orgasm Robin grew more sensitive. It became way easier to keep her cumming and screaming.

"I can't...I can't give another." Robin whimpered as she tried to pull her hips away from Y/N's assault.

"Aw Rob. That was like two orgasms without the vibrator even near you."

Robin wanted to kiss the smirk off of her face.

Before she could say a word, Y/N climbed up Robin's chest.

"Put your mouth to good use for once and eat me like a good girl."

Robin moaned as Y/N straddled her face. Her delicious thighs smother her into Y/N's cunt. Robin inhaled Y/N scent. Feeling her abused cunt dripping.

Y/N was soaked from watching Robin orgasm after orgasm. No shame as she rode Robin's face desperately. She was working for an orgasm and that was it.

Robin hasn't tasted a woman as well as her before. Y/N tasted delicious, and sweet. Robin could die happily being suffocated by her thighs.

Robin slowly flicked her own nipples as Y/N rode her face, fast and harsh. Y/N's hands were digging into Robin's hair. Yanking her head even further into Y/N's cunt.

She was screaming above Robin. The sound slightly muted from how tight Y/N was keeping her thighs locked around Robin's head.

Y/N was cumming in seconds. Practically fucking herself on Robin's tongue.

Robin licked up the mess Y/N created. Humming at the sweet taste. Robin wished she could taste her forever.

Y/N slowly crawled down Robin's body, her bare cunt moving out of Robin's view. Robin whined at the view she got of it before it was taken away.

Y/N's pretty pink and soaked pussy would forever be imprinted in Robin's mind.

~~

Robin once again woke up to the sun shining in her eyes. She quickly rolled over to see her bed empty once again.

Robin got out of bed fast and threw on a shirt to cover her naked skin.

Tip toeing down to her kitchen with a smile on her face.

But when she reached the kitchen so saw no one. It was empty and hasn't been touched in hours.

Robin's smile slowly fell.

A little piece of paper was taped to the fridge so Robin quickly read the note:

"I guess you found out what happens after I make a girls head spin, turns out I do leave. Wouldn't be expecting a call anytime soon :) "

~~

That's it for part 1!

I hope whoever read this long ass fic enjoyed it!!

I love writing for Robin :)

There will be a part 2 and hopefully won't take me too long to put out

[oldtvandcomics]

The Lucifer/Alastor rivalry is so fun, because, well, Hell's Greatest Dad sing-off, but also, while they have strikingly similar designs, Alastor is much, MUCH better at being satanic than Lucifer is.

First of all, they really look VERY similar. In a show where every character has such a unique design, I remember feeling disappointed the first time I saw a picture of what Lucifer would look like, because it was so similar to Alastor. Same general shape, same coat, they even both have a staff of some kind. Only of course, if you were to remove all the apple, snake and radio elements from their costumes and show this picture to someone who doesn't know Hazbin Hotel and ask which of the two is the Devil, they would definitely pick Alastor. He is taller, wears dark red instead of white, and his ears look like horns.

It goes even further. Among all demons, Alastor is by far the most demonic. When he transforms he really becomes absolutely monstrous. Lucifer meanwhile is angelic.

Within the story, Lucifer doesn't do much, especially not any Devil activities. He's just trying to dissociate from his depression by making rubber ducks. Meanwhile, Alastor is the one who is working hard on gaining power, he is the one manipulating people, killing those who get in his way and chaining souls to himself by making deals. He is the one who uses his political connections to get Charlie an army at the end, and despite not being able to kill Adam, he does a very good job holding his own against him.

Hell's Greatest Dad was not about being Charlie's father figure, it was about Alastor trying to take Lucifer's place. Quite literally. "Can you butt out of my song!" "Your song?! I started this!" "I'm singing it, I'll finish it!" Yeah, so this is at the same time about 1) the literal song they're singing, 2) Charlie's life, and 3) Alastor taking Lucifer's place by pushing him to the side.

I still don't know why Alastor decided that picking a fight with Lucifer upon sight was a good idea, but, like, we can all agree that he is aiming for his place, mostly by getting Charlie to depend on him. Which is also what his line in Ready For This was: "She's filled with potential that I could guide / Stick with her you'll be on the winning side!"

Many people theorize that Alastor is the final bad guy in the show. I don't think so, he is WAY too likeable. He is, however, firmly on his own side, and will go against Charlie if he thinks that he'd benefit from it. And then switch back the last moment, obviously. He panicked now about being too kind, next season, he's going to try and be more ruthless, try to stop caring about the people he clearly started to consider his friends. But he has to end up on the side of the heroes for the audience to be happy. Villains need to be destroyed, we do NOT want Alastor to be destroyed.

No, in my opinion, he is going to take Lucifer's place as the Devil.

[leahrintarou]

☠︎︎ DAY TWELVE: MARKING FT. IWAIZUMI

☠︎︎ WARNINGS: y/n is a tease, jealous iwaizumi, hickey giving lol, they're roommates

☠︎︎ WORD COUNT: 950+

"y/n" he called from his seating on the living room's sofa. she hummed in response, acknowledging his call for her attention. "can i talk to you for a second?"

she was confused but curious at the same time. her long term roommate wasn't the kind of person to request her attention in such a confrontational tone. "yeah sure, let me put my bags away first"

he hesitantly nodded, aware to the fact that she'd just returned back to their home and needed to put away her newly purchased belongings. he listened to the sounds of her steps slowly fading off in the direction of her bedroom.

three minutes..

six minutes..

eight minutes..

iwaizumi was getting impatint as time passed by, causing him to get up from his seat on the sofa. he walked down the hallway and into y/ n's room, seeing the door slightly cracked open. he knocked a couple times, slightly pushing the door open when he heard y/n's hum of approval.

expecting to see her just putting away her purchases, she was instead trying them on. he'd have no problem with that if it weren't for the fact that the purchased items were lingerie sets.

"I'll stop by tomorrow" she said, catching iwaizumi's attention. she had her phone held to her ear, holding a conversation with what seemed to be a close friend of hers. y/n turned around, glancing up at iwaizumi to see what it was that he wanted. she noticed his flustered expression, before informing the person that she would talk to them another time, eventually ending the shared call.

"what do you think? i was just about to call you since i wanted your opinion on it" she smiled tossing her phone onto her bed. "who was that?" he questioned, noticing how y/n fumbled with the laced fabric of her top. "kuroo. why?" he reached for y/n's wrist, pulling her figure closer to himself before speaking.

"i told you i wanted to talk to you about something" he reminded her of his words, noticing the apologetic look that unknowingly formed on y/n's once calmed expression. "oh my gosh. i fucking forgot, i'm sorry. what was it that you needed?"

he sighed, eyes leaving her own gaze before actually taking in their current state. their lips were practically in reach of the others, the only thing covering y/n being the sheer fabric of laced detailed lingerie. "you don't feel guilty of wearing something like that while on the phone with a friend?"

she smiled shaking her head before moving away from his figure to take a seat on the edge of her bed. "at least i wasn't naked" she mumbled before laying on her back. iwaizumi couldn't help but admire her figure. she looked so vulnerable at the moment. he sensed y/n's own gaze before lazily looking up to catch it.

"are you jealous?" she questions, staring up at the ceiling to voice her words properly, trying not to get caught up in his peering gaze. "there's nothing to be jealous about. i've done the same thing with you too. except, i wasn't wearing this" y/n said, indirectly poking a tease at him.

"then what were you wearing?" he questioned through a stillness toned voice.

she made eye contact with him, smirking before seeing his eyes widening as she focused back onto the detail of the ceiling. iwaizumi walked up closer to y/n before placing a cold palm onto her abdomen. feeling her tense at the unwelcoming touch of low temperature.

he propped himself up by placing a knee in-between y/n's slightly parted thighs, hovering directly over her body, making it harder to avoid his gaze. "why don't you try wearing something else..?"

"like what?"

"they're purple and can cover practically everything on you"

he leaned down, closer to y/n, pressing a kiss onto her lips before slowly trailing down her jaw and to her neck. a breathy sigh escaped from her mouth when she felt felt the warmth of his tongue lap at a sensitive spot that only he knew of.

iwaizumi knew that it was an area that only he knew would drive y/n crazy, making him only use it to his advantage even more. "wanna give kuroo a call back? i'm sure you two weren't done talking"

she shook her head letting out a small whine of a drawn out "no". iwaizumi was satisfied at the prominent bruise that now resided on her neck before admiring the rest of her exposed body, slowly mimicking the same process in what seemed to be like a specified shape.

he smiled taking a glance up at y/n to admire her panting expression, evidence from his abusing pleasure to her chest. he hummed against her skin, feeling her hand thread through his hair when small nibbles were felt against her breast.

iwaizumi moved down lower, slightly letting out a groan when y/n tugged on his hair. she noticed his movements were more controlled and somehow pinpointed in a special patten on her abdomen. he placed a couple small pecks to her abdomen and neck, not missing the chance to pinch at her skin between his teeth.

a whine fell from her lips before he finally leaned back a bit admiring y/n. "what's that smile for?" she questioned though a pant, eye's growing in suspicion before she glanced down at her chest and abdomen.

I.H

he'd specifically marked hickeys in the shape of his initials. iwaizumi reached for y/n's phone before taking a picture of his so called 'masterpiece! "can i?" he questioned, an innocent smile on his lips when y/n rolled her eyes, already knowing what he was asking permission for. she nodded before hearing a familiar sound.

>> sent to tetsuro

[familyvideostevie]

ok but meeting remus lupin during the end of nov and admitting how melancholy this time of year makes u feel and that's it ur invited to all the marauders events over the holidays and spend new years together

my first attempt at remus! this really ran away from me, but i hope you like it! i am still finding my footing with him but this was great fun. | fem!reader, strangers to friends to lovers, nye kiss, 3.3k

You meet Remus at a local book club, of all places.

A flyer on the bookshop notice board tells you the group meets every other week -- a bit frequently, in your opinion, but you've got the time to read so you figure you'll give it ago. Moving to a new place means you haven't got many, or any, really, friends, and you could do with getting out of the house more. The days are getting shorter and you find yourself a bit more lonely with each passing day.

The group, when you go for the first time, consists of eight elderly women (though, they are sure to inform you, sometimes numbers swell to as many as 15), you, and Remus. They ask for your name and your age, which they all titter at.

"I, uh," you say, crossing your legs and shifting in your folding chair. "I'm really happy to be here," you say. "Thank you for letting me join." That seems to soften them, and they all are a bit more smiley as they introduce themselves.

It is clear right away that they adore Remus. It's not surprising -- he's handsome in a tired way, a ragged way. His face is a mash-up of sharp edges and tight scars that slash across his nose, but his eyes are soft and warm. You want to inspect every inch of him, so naturally you look away. 

It takes three meetings for you to say much. After four, you see Remus at the grocery store twice in one week. You wonder if he lives around here. By the fifth meeting, you're fairly sure you've got your footing. You chime in more often than not, and they're going to let you pick a book next month. It's the last meeting before you all break for the holidays and you are quite sad to not have these to look forward to for the next few weeks. But you push it down and instead focus on your impassioned defense of the unlikable narrator in this week's novel.

"It's the edge that makes the story so compelling," you say. "We get to judge her because we recognize her, but we don't know why until too late. It's because she's normal, and we're meant to see ourselves in her." You've gone on for too long, and after you finish, you don't know where to look. Remus is smiling at you, as he always does.

"Brilliant," says Florence, the bookstore owner and facilitator "What a way to end! I can't wait to see what you come up with in the new year, dear." She hands out the plates of cookies that she made for everyone and the ladies begin to go their separate ways. You're juggling your book, bag, and the plate while you try to shove an arm through your coat. A hand appears in your vision to grab the items in your grip.

"You alright?" It's Remus. He smells like chocolate and something earthier. You've spoken a few times, but not much apart from a hello here and there. He complimented your sweater last meeting and the words burned in your brain for days. You nod, quickly sliding into your coat before taking your things back. His fingers are warm where they brush yours.

"Thanks," you say. The bookshop is almost empty.

"I agree with you, by the way," he says. You've noticed that when Remus talks to you, even if he's responding to something you've said in the group, he looks at you the whole time. His attention does not waver. It's both warming and unnerving.  "What you were saying about the narrator. I hadn't been able to put it into words like that, but I think you were spot on."

You start for the door and he follows. "I just think it's easy to fall into the trap of putting every character on one side of morality or the other," you say.

"Exactly!" He nods emphatically. "With a writer of this caliber the text encourages you to read about her with nuance and to consider that she's not just one thing." He holds the door for you and you both spill out into the chilly night air. The town has wrapped every lamppost and tree in lights that cast everything in a warm glow.

"Listen," Remus says. He looks especially lovely out here. You hug your plate of cookies close to your chest before you reach out to push away the lock of hair that's fallen across his forehead. "I know this is probably not going to come out well, so feel free to tell me to shove it."

You blink at him. What?

"I've seen you at the supermarket around the corner a few times," he continues. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's being shy. "And I figure you live around here?" You nod. You've no reason to believe he's anything but a nice guy, but you know nothing about him. Even if you have also noticed him at the same store.

"Well," he keeps going. His smile is tight, the creases at the corner of his eyes deep in a way that screams nerves. "I was wondering, if you don't have plans that is, if you wanted to come to the pub with me? I'm meeting a few of my mates and I--." He runs a hand through his hair, fixing the piece you can't stop looking at. "Well, we don't get to talk much during club and I'd uh, like to get to know you?"

"Are you asking me to be friends?" you blurt out. Probably not the best thing to lead with, but he's really so handsome and he seems nice and you haven't got much to look forward to in your empty apartment and this is just a little bit overwhelming. His shoulders creep back down away from his ears and he grins.

"Yeah," he says. "I am."

"Okay," you say. "Lead the way." Remus doesn't strike you as someone who wears his emotions plainly, but his grin softens into something lighter and you think that you want to figure out how to read him.

You fall into step beside him. "It's not far," he says. "I do want to apologize in advance for my friends, though," he says.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, they're great. Don't get me wrong. I love them to pieces." He sighs. "But they're also a bloody pain."

You laugh loudly and suddenly. It feels nice. "Well, that's a ringing endorsement. It's alright though, I could use some friends."

Remus looks over at you and tugs on your elbow just once to tell you to turn with him. "You just moved here, yeah?"

"Well, a few months ago now, but I haven't had much luck with people." Between working and trying to keep your head above water, you haven't figure out how to add socializing into that yet. "And I don't really like...all this." You wave your hands in the air, gesturing at the lights and ribbons adorning the street.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," you say. "It all makes me feel a bit sad." You start to feel embarrassed. "Oh Remus, I'm sorry. We've barely spoken and I'm being all melancholy." He knocks his shoulder with yours and you look over at him to see he's still got a small smile on his face.

"Darling," he says. "I am as melancholy as they come. You're speaking my language."

---

The pub is crowded and noisy and you like it immediately. Remus takes your hand and leads you through the throng to a back corner where two guys are taking up an entire round booth with what seems to be an arm wrestling match.

"Surrender, Potter," one of them says. He's got a knot of dark hair tied into a bun and tiny hoops in each ear and one nostril.

"Fuck off," growls the other. You can tell right away that he's tall, maybe as tall as Remus. He's got messy hair and round spectacles. He is not winning the match.

"Idiots," Remus mutters. He lets go of your hand and places his palm on your lower back. "Hey, knock it off!" This distracts the boy with glasses, allowing the other one to slam his arm down on the table.

"Shove it," he cries. Remus rubs the bridge of his nose. You don't think they've noticed you yet.

"Where are the girls?" he asks. More friends? you think.

"They're coming," says the boy who lost. Potter, you think. His eyebrows climb up his forehead once he notices you standing next to Remus.

"Marlene called and said they had to stop at home first," adds the other one. His eyes find you and his gaze is sharp. "And who is this?" he says, eyeing you.

"Uh," you say. Remus's hand presses a little harder into your back. "Remus and I do book club together?" You put the plate of cookies down on the table like a peace offering.

"Merlin's beard," glasses boy whistles. "She's real."

The one with piecing looks delighted. "James, you owe me a fiver." He holds out his hand.

"Fuck off, Sirius," says...James. "Wait are those cookies?"

"As you can see," Remus sighs, "these gits are James and Sirius. Are you two about finished?" You look at him and his cheeks are a little pink but he's doing his best to look bored. James and Sirius break into roars of laughter as they scoot to make room for you both. Remus ushers you into the booth. "I'm going to get drinks," he says. "What would you like?"

"Whatever you're having," you tell him. You tug off your coat and don't know what to do with your hands.

"I want a stout, Remus," James says.

Remus doesn't even look at him. "I wasn't asking you, dear." He winks at you and turns on his heel, heading for the bar. You feel a bit strange to be left with two guys you just met, but this is how you make friends, right?

"So what's this about me not being real?" you ask. Sirius raps a tattooed knuckle on the table before reaching for a sugar cookie.

"Well," he drawls. "Lupin told us about his book club when he started going earlier this year but we don't hear much else about it. And then a little while ago, he comes to drinks and he says there's a new girl."

James says your name in a poor imitation of Remus's accent. You twist your fingers in your lap. "And he says a few things about this new girl," Sirius continues, until James elbows him.

"Keep your limbs to yourself, Potter," he grumbles.

James leans in, elbows on the table. "Remus hasn't made a new friend since like, grammar school. So naturally we thought he was having us on when he said you two were friendly."

"Oh," you say. He's been telling his friends that you're friendly? It makes your chest tight in a nice way, like you're being hugged. "Well, thank you for letting me crash your pub night," you say.

"Are you kidding?" Sirius deadpans. "We've been begging him to invite you for weeks." Remus returns before you can reply with two pale-looking pints. He sets them down and slides in next to you, close enough that it's clear you know him the most, even if that's barely true, but far enough that you're not touching except for your knees knocking under the table. He stretches an arm across the top of the booth behind you. You hope you're not staring.

"So how were the books this time?" James asks. His eyes say mischief but he seems to be willing to let you off the hook for now. You and Remus recount the drama from today's meeting. The boys ask you basic questions like what you do for work and how you like the city and what club you support, but none of it feels stale or disingenuous. In fact, it really feels like they want to get to know you.

"Well, surely you've been to the skating rink in the park." Sirius is interrogating you on what neighborhoods you've visited. You shake your head and he gasps like you've slapped him. "What about the market?"

"I don't really do the holidays very well," you say, a bit softly. He raps his knuckles on the table again and Remus presses his thigh into yours on purpose. "I just haven't got my footing yet. I haven't been here that long and I don't have a guide."

"Well that won't do," James says.

"You do now," Remus says. You turn to him and find that he's closer than you realized. His eyes bore into yours and he looks rather serious. "Have a guide, I mean. You'll just do everything with us." You blink. Is it really this easy? Making friends? A handsome boy wants to facilitate your holiday season and you don't really know what to say.

"Brilliant idea, Lupin," Sirius says happily. "I always say you're the smartest of us."

Remus kicks him. "Okay," you say. "That sounds nice."

"I'm sure Remus has your phone number," James says cheekily. "He'll sort it." Remus does not, in fact, have your phone number, but you remedy that by passing him your mobile. He taps away at it with one hand, the other still hovering just over your shoulders.

"Where the bloody fuck are the girls?" Sirius grumbles. It seems he can change moods from one moment to the next faster than anyone you've met before. "Marlene has my nice suede jacket from last week."

"And we need Lily here so James stops looking so put out," Remus says, not looking up from your phone. "Lily is his girlfriend," he adds for your benefit. "Are we not good enough for you, Jamie?"

James ignores him.

"More friends?" you say quietly. Remus nods.

"You'll like them. And they'll adore you." You've been friends with him for all of one night, but his tone is sincere. The pub lighting makes his scars softer and you fight against leaning into him as he talks.

"How do you know?"

His mouth curls up at one end in a smile that makes you shiver a little. "I just do."

__

It wouldn't do to develop a crush on your first real friend in town, so you try your best not to over the next few weeks. You fail miserably. How could you not like Remus? He carts you around the city with his friends -- your friends too, he insists -- going ice skating and drinking mulled cider and market shopping and every time you are struck by how lovely he is. He holds your hand a lot and sends you photos he manages to take of you without you noticing. You meet the rest of the group -- Lily and Marlene and Dorcus -- and you love them, too. You see lights all over the city and laugh a lot and smile so much your cheeks ache. His friends tease you and you end up in multiple group chats and things start to feel good. Even when you go back to your apartment alone, you feel warm. You are just excited for whatever you're going to do next.

And then it's New Year's Eve.

The pub you've become a regular at is having a party and Lily was timely enough to book your regular table for the whole crew. You're running a little late because you could not decide what to wear, but you make it, shoving yourself through the crowd to the back booth.

Someone -- you're not sure who -- spots you and screams your name. You recognize a lot of the people here, but it's not until James enters your field of vision that you relax.

"There she is!" he cries, looking over his shoulder. "Remus, she's here!" Remus emerges from the crowd and scoops you up, pressing his lips to your cheek in a quick hello as he grabs your coat and pulls you in for a hug. He's warm and smells like beer and something spicy.

"You look lovely," he says. He's had at least one drink judging by the color of his cheeks and his general handsy-ness.

"So do you," you say. He wrinkles his nose at you.

"Go sit in my seat and I'll get you a drink. The usual?" You nod. He gently pushes you towards the table and disappears into the crowd. You slide into a space Remus has clearly vacated next to Sirius. He's got some sparkles on his lower lids and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth as he shuffles a deck of cards. Everyone at the table is flushed and ready.

"Hey, you," he says. "You in?" You've no idea what they're playing.

"Next round, Sirius." He shrugs and you watch something that looks like Hearts happen in front of you.

Remus returns before the round wraps up and you stand to give him his seat. He looks at it and then at you and then back at the bench before he slides in, setting your pints on the table before wrapping his long, slender fingers around your wrist and tugging just enough so that you stumble towards him and end up in his lap. Everyone at the table is fighting smiles and Sirius wraps up the round and turns to you both. He puts the cigarette behind his ear and manages to look extremely bored with your antics.

"Now are you playing?" You nod, breathless. Remus's arm wraps around your back, hand settling on your hip so that you won't fall off of him.

A hand moves your hair off of your shoulder and you feel lips on your earlobe. "What are we playing?" You turn and all of a sudden Remus's face is incredibly close to yours. He does not move away.

"No idea," you say, forgetting that you do know what you're playing. Your brain is a little fuzzy right now. Which is probably why you lose horribly, Remus laughing underneath you as you desperately try to shove aside thoughts of kissing him so you can focus for just one second.

And then it's almost midnight. The energy in the pub changes to something a bit more exuberant and someone passes out champagne in classes of all kinds. You end up holding a whiskey tumblr of fizz and the booth around you empties as everyone gets to their feet, ready to chant in the new year. Remus maneuvers you gently so that you're no longer totally in his lap, just next to him with your legs across it. His arm is a warm band around your shoulders to keep you close. The pub increases in volume as people start to sing.

"Have you got anyone to kiss at midnight?" he yells into your ear, lips brushing your skin again.

You pull back to look at him. He's flushed, but his eyes are clear. "I think so," you say. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he sets down his own glass and grabs your jaw. His thumb rubs over your lower lip.

"Lucky bloke," he says. The countdown chanting starts around you. You cup his jaw for the first time and run a gentle finger along one of the scars on his jaw. He shudders.

You can't wait a second more so you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He gasps just a little bit before responding, tongue tracing the seam of your mouth. His fingertips dig into your party dress and you kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and everyone is cheering and you think some of it might be for you two.

You have a feeling that this year isn't going to be so bad.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[dr3amofagame]

fuck it i'm making this c!awesamdreamity sitcom AU (dr3 edition) a real thing for the funnies alone. why the hell not

premise: they get thrown into a sitcom. that's it. they're in a sitcom world that plays by sitcom rules, which means that everything that occurs Has to conceivably work within the genre. that means no throwing dream in a cell underground and treating him as a prisoner, sam, that's not funny enough. they can't leave or escape, and if they try to do something that Doesn't work within the genre they'll either just be completely unable to do it or they'll be foiled in some genre-specific way (ex: sam tries to build a cell on the property anyway and ends up in a three-episode arc about his fight with HOA)

the main point of this set up is that anything is technically possible as long as it works within the bit. also, yes, there's a laugh track, and whether or not the characters can hear it has everything to do with what's the funniest option (c!sam fucking hates the thing, for the record.)

highlights of this include:

the sitcom Demands A Relationship. because neither c!quackity nor c!sam is willing to do the whole married couple spiel with c!dream, that means that c!awesamq are the ones that are officially "together." this goes so fucking badly and is like, the primary reason why i'm making this a thing in the first place

c!dream isn't Allowed to be a prisoner, but he does have to stay within the house. between the genre and c!awesamq's opinions, he's not really going to end up as just "the roommate" or family or you know, an official third part of the throuple, so the maid it is

a level of violence is allowed but like, the actual pain/consequences has everything to do with whether it works For The Bit or For The Drama. like, c!q might hit c!dream with the car and nothing will happen bc it'll be played off as a punchline, for example, but also a dramatically timed fall might lead to someone walking around with a broken arm for an 'episode' or two. there's no magical accelerated healing here, just the Power Of The Bit

similarly, a lot will be allowed to slide as long as you're genre savvy about it. c!quackity won't be able to get away with outright torturing c!dream for hours, of course, but pushing him around is fine as long as it's funny enough. especially if it comes with a side of romantic drama

speaking of the romantic drama, hoo boy are c!awesamq a fucking TRAIN WRECK. like my god are they so toxic. c!sam is literally the quintessential asshole condescending boyfriend on that server and c!q has a quick fuse, a hell of a temper, and generally reacts to being talked down to with several knives and cursing. they take to a domestic romantic relationship as a fish does to . uh. lava maybe. like it's BAD

think screaming slammed doors things being thrown there's a glass sailing towards c!sam's head screaming over the banisters holes in the drywall fine! FINE! [laugh track] bad. it'd be gloriously, ridiculously toxic. the crowd goes wild

c!quackity has to contend with the fact that his husband is absolutely down horrendous FOR THEIR STUPID GODDAMN MAID .

the maid also wants his husband more than quackity :/ sidelined in his own relationship once again (i wonder why, Q)

how well they adjust has everything to do with how well they acclimate to the genre. c!quackity does the best job--he knows how to play a crowd and do so well. c!sam by FAR acclimates the worst. he's inherently completely offended by the idea of everything about his job and the prison being turned into Entertainment, into something Funny, into A Show To Consume and basically reacts to the sitcom thing by trying to ignore it. this, of course, means that he ends up generally being the butt of the joke

c!dream is. well. at least he's got less stress about dying i guess. and is generally a lot less injured bc starvation and torture lead to lower comedy ratings smh. is still kinda in hell but you know yesterday he got to watch c!quackity hit c!sam over the head with a frying pan and literal cartoon birds appeared so

honestly he's kinda quietly having an existential crisis and lowkey earning sympathy points from the proverbial audience by being the one that comes off the least as Just The Complete And Utter Worst

(meanwhile: c!sam is yelling at c!quackity for how he's apparently cut up all of his dress shirts while c!quackity screams back about something something and he can stick the scissors up his ass)

[laugh track]

[ceilidho]

Sorry to dump this here, but no one in my immediate and/or accessible circle reads as much as I do and this conversation came up at the right time.

I don't read a lot of romance and I started reading some popular ones last year to ease my way into it. I feel like such a snob to say this, but the plot and writing are never fully fleshed out nor are the characters. None of the romantic actions I see people swoon over are ever explained well enough for me to understand the hype. A scene in which there should be an emotional inner monologue is shorted to a paragraph and if the character is toxic (I understand a lot of people enjoy toxic/dark men, but romance books never write them well enough) and destroys the other character's life/says a relationship-ending lie/any other cliche, there is never enough explanation, justification, groveling, or any thought process behind the reconciliation.

It's always just one half-written and half-baked trope after the other.

Again, apologies for dumping it here, but I think there are such damning consequences for women (the main demographic of romance readers) who read things like this and don't give constructive criticism or thought when facing these problems.

no but you're 100% right. i mean, this is one annoying bitch's opinion (mine LMAO) but trad publishing is in the absolute pits right now. that's not to say that there aren't still some good books coming out because of course, every now and then you're going to get a gem. but i think the environment has become outwardly hostile to good writing.

i mean, i know this has been discussed a ton, but the "fast fashionization" of books has become a huge problem. every time there's a new microtrend or whatever, every author rushes to push out a book to meet the demand (see: the hockey romance trend). this, obviously, means that the editing time is severely compressed and you get books published by like harper collins and penguin with typos, grammar issues, and more.

i got some flack for this when i posted about it on twitter ahah but i honestly do not understand why the sequel to "fourth wing" came out so soon (not even getting into the messy qualities of the first book). sequels used to take a year or more to come out to allow for the book to go through several rounds of editing and fine tuning! what happened??!!

i think authors now feel compelled to get their books out as soon as possible out of fear that booktok/readers will simply move on after the initial hype and they'll lose their reader base. there's like an anxiety about being left behind in the current publishing world.

this is kind of in line with what i was talking about the other day with Bo actually - writing romance and smut is actually way harder than people think. you can't just use the same 5 recycled porn dialogue lines and call it a day. you have to care a little about the story you're trying to tell, not just churning it out to make a buck or to make people pay attention to you. i'm not saying belabour every single action and decision made by your main character or go crazy on description (i still think the sweet spot for a published book is between 250-300 pages, and maybe more if you're writing a genre specific book that involves a lot of worldbuilding), but as a writer you need to want to be writing that book in the first place.

no one who's legitimately excited about what they're writing is going to resort to cliches and overused tropes - they might lean on tropes they like, but there's inevitably going to be something original and exciting there.

also my lil controversial opinion about the state of trad publishing lately is that i think it's 100% influenced by this weird pervasive strain of purity culture that's on booktok where people feel like any enjoyment they get from reading a particular thing has a direct reflection on them as a person and their values. rather than it just being a book.

(by the way i actually completely agree with you that even dark romances are as bad as everything else we've been talking about - that's another conversation lol. i also kind of agree with the idea of more romance books coming with content warnings on the front page - this hasn't really caught on yet except with some dark romance authors but i think it's a really good idea)

i don't think there's anything wrong about people getting excited about books on tiktok and instagram and youtube btw. i think it's a fun way to share recommendations, commentary, and interests. what i think is the big problem is that the publishing industry has almost become beholden to trends and online perception because they've seen how much profit they can generate by catering to it, and i think that's why books now just feel bland and soulless. they're tapping into a FOMO on both the authors' and writers' side, of either being left behind and not being able to make a living, or missing out on what everyone else is reading and talking about.

[silverware-drawer]

This is probably a super unpopular opinion, but I genuinely don't know why people are putting so much weight on the destruction of the "eggs"—players or fandom.

I actually thought they were holograms at first, just some kind of digital avatar for the purpose of the game, but I guess it makes more sense if they're statues. But honestly, I feel like even calling them "eggs" is purely a manipulation tactic.

If you think about it, they are literally just big rocks with the equivalent of a paper sign that says "this looks like your kids" taped to it. Any connection they have to the actual eggs is, for all intents and purposes, completely based on assumptions. Up to this point, nothing the eye has said has solidly connected them to the kids beyond their appearance.

Big rocks are not the same as children. Not even if they look kind of similar. There is no reason for the parents to believe that they are—or are connected to—their real kids, except for paranoia. If breaking a statue leads to an egg's death, I wouldn't blame the person who broke the statue. I would blame the person who decided that in the first place, the person who created the entire situation.

It's like the thought experiment that goes, "if you were in front of a button that, when pressed, would end global warming but also kill a random person somewhere in the world, would you push it?" There is no situation where I'd think it was reasonable to blame the person in front of the button for any death or destruction that came as a consequence. I'd blame the person who fucking built the button in the first place, and had the power to end global warming but decided to make it into a twisted game.

From my perspective, the only legitimate moral conflict here is whether the characters choose to try and break the game that's presented to them, to go along with it because they fear what will happen if they don't, or simply refuse to play at all. Just like the elections.

Anyway tl;dr—with the information we have, I think the "eggs" don't have any meaning except messing with the characters' heads, and if any of the actual kids die as a result of the situation I think the puppet master is to blame. Not the puppets.

[itsclydebitches]

CLYDE. I was thinking about the RWBY vs Ace Ops fight again because it's one my least favourite moments in the entire show and I realised that Qrow/Clover/Robyn weren't part of the conversation prior, nor were they ever acknowledged. Nothing of the effect that "Hey, maybe we should wait for Qrow/Robyn/Clover's opinion on this plan before moving onwards, considering their experience and leadership skills?" before being shut down that time is of the essence and they can't wait for them. It just feels illogical to have the Ace Ops leader, Mantle's primary representative and the leader of the Happy Huntresses and one of James' closest allies be completely absence from one the most impactful turning points of the Volume. It feels they were either purposely left out arbitrarily for the sake of two poorly conceived fights or the writers just forgot...which wouldn't be the first time. This show is very...frustrating to say the least.

YEAH. The other day I was thinking about RWBY and ludonarrative dissonance in video games. Specifically, the number of action/adventure games I've played that have a, "OMG COMPLETE THIS MISSION IMMEDIATELY TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE SOMEONE IS GONNA DIE!!" narrative paired with a "Look at all these fun side quests populating the map, you should totally spend a month of in-game time leisurely exploring them" gameplay. RWBY feels similar to me (minus the interactive elements, obviously). The narrative continually pushes the urgency of the situation, but what the characters do don't align with that. Waiting in the mansion is the classic, go-to example of this, but it's also seen in questions like, "If the group is so concerned with the safety of the Relic why don't they.... put it in the vault?" and "If Qrow needs to speak to Ironwood so badly, why doesn't he just... go to Ironwood in handcuffs rather than starting a fight that, unforeseen airship crash or not, is gonna SUPER delay him getting there." Importantly, these moments go beyond the characters simply making impulsive, fallible, human decisions. It always feels like the writers haven't thought through the situation, or are so focused on one (badly chosen) outcome that they'll ignore all logic to get there.

So, same idea with this fight. I completely understand Ironwood's position because there is a clear line of logic here. Salem is about to attack, the group has consistently lied/undermined him, ergo he is removing a potential threat by locking them up until this battle/escape is complete. No one has to agree with him, but I think the reasoning makes sense both in general and for his specific character. (Which is also one of the reasons why I think some fans are willing to hear consider his side: his writing, however messy in other places, is leagues beyond the group's, particularly in the first half of the Atlas arc.) The girls though? They're all over the place. They don't want secrets but they're going to keep them from Ironwood. But they're also going to spill them all to Robyn, someone they don't know and shouldn't trust. They want to save everyone but have no idea how and can't/won't troubleshoot an answer. They're determined to unite the people but are simultaneously determined to solve their problems with a fight. They start said fight and then Ruby immediately tries to talk her way out of it again. And, as you say, they ignore that unity/experience/help available to them by not looping the others in because, supposedly, there's just no time... but then we have long scenes where they just sit around the mansion, tearfully bemoaning the fact that they don't know what to do and getting angry that no one has magically shown up to help.

I can EASILY picture a better-if-not-perfect scenario where the girls' decisions in that fight actually follow their proclaimed intentions AND the not-actually-very-critical timeline they have (because remember, even after all this Salem just sits there for an extended time.) What if Ruby ordered the team to let themselves get arrested and then we got a cool break out of jail scene? (I mean... Ruby blasts through Ironwood's steel doors that are meant to keep people in + they sneak into Atlas HQ. Clearly this would not have been difficult for them.) What if they ran into Qrow and Robyn while in their cells? Or what if they escaped, realized they needed their uncle, and started a help Mantle/find Qrow dual mission? What if instead of broadcasting a horrifying and near incomprehensible message to the whole world, they spoke to all their allies in Atlas about the plan they'd come up with, calling them together? Maybe coded so Cinder wouldn't understand. Maybe bluntly honest like a gauntlet throw-down: we know you're here, but we're ready for you this time.

Instead Ruby forgets she exists...

There are just SO many things you can do with that fight/the aftermath that don't completely undermine the themes, the tension, the proclaimed desires, and the narrative expectations. If there has to be a battle of ally vs. ally when Salem is on her way and half our villains are roaming the streets (god I can't emphasize that enough), why is everyone with the wrong person? Why isn't Robyn fighting the Ace Ops, her political enemy long before the girls showed up? Why isn't Qrow fighting Ironwood, the guy he (stupidly) blames for Clover's death? Why isn't Clover with his team? Why isn't Ruby facing Salem? Why the hell would you have Qrow team up with Tyrian?

As a side note, I've seen a resurgence of discussion about Ruby's breakdown in Volume 9 and everything above re-emphasizes for me just how much she HAS demanded this power and responsibility. "Hey, maybe we should wait for Qrow/Robyn/Clover's opinion on this plan before moving onwards, considering their experience and leadership skills?" is one of MANY considerations when weighing the question of whether Ruby has truly been burdened with the unwanted expectations of others... because they've never been unwanted and she has never down a thing to lessen that burden. She doesn't wait. She doesn't ask. She doesn't lean on others' experience and leadership. And this goes all the way back to Ruby responding, "Yes, I want to attend Beacon and take on all the responsibilities of that despite not being old enough," but there is also a LOT in the Atlas arc - right before her Volume 9 breakdown, literal hours in-world - where Ruby stood her ground and said, "No, we're doing this my way and my team, whether they've disagreed with this decision, or suggested this course of action in the first place, will ultimately follow me because I am the leader." She told Qrow to stand down and let her continue fighting Cordovin. She made the decision to lie to Ironwood and talked the others out of coming clean. She made the call to attack the Ace Ops instead of submitting to arrest. Using the Relic and dropping Atlas was a group suggestion, but Ruby sanctioned it. Based on literally 8 Volumes of content, if anyone HAD said no to her Ruby would not have listened to them. That is an overt, consistent characterization of hers.

And then Volume 9 expects me to feel bad because she's going, "Everyone expects me to take the lead"??? Like sure, in a very general, "That's indeed stressful no matter who's at the helm" sense, but Ruby has spent years at this point loudly yelling, "I'M THE PERSON YOU SHOULD LOOK TO AND I'LL FIX IT. IF YOU DON'T LIKE MY PLAN I'LL FIGHT YOU :)" Not roping Qrow and the others in is a part of all that. Not overtly on screen - we don't have a scene where Ruby goes, "We don't need to talk to them" - but the story doesn't think their input is important. We get the closeup on her smiling face when she thinks of using the Relic and then the others just inform Winter of what is happening when she happens to call. Major decisions in RWBY have often been collaborative when it comes to suggestions, but the final call is always Ruby. Whether we're talking about "This is my fight too!" when Qrow warns her to stay back, or using the Lamp's question when Ozpin is begging her not to, or shrugging off Yang's concern that she lied to Ironwood, or telling the whole damn world about Salem when numerous people with more experience than her have said, "That's a terrible idea" for generations, Ruby forcibly takes the lead and will not back down no matter who is asking that of her, or how they're asking. In fact, I'd say that is the most OVERT and CONSISTENT way in which she displays agency in this show (which, ugh).

[moonchildstyles]

the witching hour

despite harry being the witch in this situation, maybe his crush on gemma's new friend was going to be the most bewitching thing he ever encountered

wordcount: 10k+

—————

"Are you just going to watch me set up or actually help?" 

Harry couldn't help the bark of laughter that left his lips at his sister's jab. He stayed just where he was even when he felt the glare of her eyes on him as he continued the game of changing the contents of her flower vases every time Gemma flicked it back to water before the blooms died. He currently wanted to see how long it would take her to noticed he'd snapped spiked seltzer into the water's place. 

"I don't know why you're worrying so hard, Gem," Harry sighed, sinking into the back of his stool where he sat at the breakfast nook, "Just cast a spell and make everything set itself up. It would take 3 minutes compared to the three hours you've been stressing over this." 

He didn't have to see his sister's face to know she was rolling her eyes hard enough their mother would have chided her, saying they were going to get stuck that way if she kept it up. "Sorry, I try not to rely on my magic, like you. Is it so bad I want everything to be perfect? This is the first time we're not living with the coven—or even near them. I want these people to like us, Harry." 

"And they're going to," Harry cemented, just as he had been since his sister started worrying over the opinions of the mortals that were now their neighbors, "We're giving them free drinks and food, there's no way they aren't going to like us—like you." 

"That's not a guarantee, Harry," Gemma argued, twisting in her spot so he could see just how exasperated he was making her. Her expression fell flat when she noticed the bubbling soda water soaking her roses. She shot him a glare that was only deflected by Harry's grin. "Could you at least try to be on your best behavior tonight? It's going to be hard to stay in the HOA if they realize you're a dick and a witch." 

"I always am," he said with a cocky grin stretching his lips. Not a complete lie, but definitely not the truth.

Gemma shook her head before she brushed past him, a large crystal bowl full of ice in her hands. "You don't have to come tonight, you know. You could go do something with Mitch or whoever; leave the house to me and I'll just tell everyone how nice my brother is without you contradicting everything I tell them." 

"I invited Mitch to come tonight, so I think he'd be a bit busy." Harry's voice was breezy as he kept an eye on his sister. He needed to find the right moment to fill the vases with almond milk when she wasn't looking. "If I didn't know any better, I would feel like you don't want me there, Gems." 

"You're not even dressed up, Harry! Do you even want to be at the party?" 

"Yes, I am dressed up," Harry argued, a pinch knitting his brows together as he sat up straight in his seat. 

"No, you're not," Gemma countered as she climbed on top of a chair with a strip of led lights in her hand she was planning on tacking along the line of the ceiling, "You look like normal." 

With an exaggerated wave of his fingers, deep purple nail polish glittering in the light, he gave her another self-satisfied grin. "Exactly," he said, "'M dressed like a witch." 

That seemed to finally get his sister to crack a smile, a matching dimple in her cheek making an appearance. As much as he loved to tease his sister, especially now that they were living together for the first time away from their family, he didn't want her to feel like he wasn't supportive of her or messing with her just for the sake of pushing her buttons, and not because he was trying to ease her nerves. Sure, the former was a part of it, but he was here to support her and make her days easier, especially knowing how much she was missing their coven. 

"You're annoying," his sister laughed, using a flick of her fingers to keep the strip light held up to the wall while she fixed them to the crease between the ceiling and the walls, "Are you going to change before the party, or is that really your costume?" 

"You'll jus' have to wait and see." And, so would Harry. He had no idea if Mitch was actually going to follow through on the corn costume they had been joking around about a few weeks prior, because if he was, then Harry had agreed to dress like a pad of butter. "Who's all coming tonight?" 

"Well, I sent out that mass invitation on the HOA's Facebook page, so hopefully a lot of neighbors we haven't met yet. But, I also invited a couple of the girls from work and people from that record store you like. One of the girls from my yoga class said she'd try to ma—" 

"Was it (Y/N)? The one from your yoga class." Harry didn't even pretend to care about how eager he sounded cutting her off. He needed to know if (Y/N) was going to be there. 

On more than one occasion in the last couple of months since moving to the neighborhood, Harry had picked up Gemma from her yoga classes after he finished with his spinning sessions, and without fail there was always this girl that walked out with his sister. After that first time he saw her, Harry couldn't help but begin to look forward to picking up Gemma if only for a moment's glance at her friend. 

Maybe it was the sweat that clung to her skin after the workout, but Harry swore she was covered in stars, glimmering in the light, even when it was after one of the late classes with only the moon above. Without fail, there was always a sweet smile on her face when he spied her, quiet while she listened to his sister talk about whatever, or growing brighter when she told her own stories. One time, he was able to hear her laugh after he had cracked the windows, and maybe his breath had been stolen at the sound, but he would never tell Gemma that. He wanted to get to know her as more than the pretty face that always escorted Gemma to his car after classes and gave him a polite wave before heading towards her own way home. 

"Harry," Gemma sighed, settling her hands on her hips as she gave him a pointed glare. 

"What? 'M jus' asking!"

His sister rolled her eyes, the fake lashes she'd glued to her eyes fluttering at the familiar movement. "She's my friend, Harry, you're not allowed to date her! We already share a house, I'm not letting you have my friends, too." 

"Would it really be that bad, Gems? I'm a gentleman, wh—" 

"If you fuck her and she stops talking to me like what happened with Meredith, I'm seriously going to be so pissed at you. She's much more fun than Mere, so she's completely off limits if you don't want me to tell mum." 

Harry groaned at the mentioning of his sister tattling on him to their mom. "How was I supposed to know she was a virgin beforehand? If she had told me, I wouldn't have put my—" 

"I don't need to hear that story again!" Gemma shouted over him, cutting him off. Stepping off the chair she'd used as her ladder, she gave him one more look as the room filled with a cool purple glow from the lights she'd just pinned up. "Just be nice to her, Harry. At least let me see if she wants something serious or whatever, so if she does, you can leave her alone and not hurt anyone's feelings." 

"Deal," Harry rushed out. He could work with that. "So I can talk to her tonight?" 

A sigh puffed her lungs, though she didn't offer any answer. 

"Jus' one dance, at least, Gems. I won't bother her after that, unless she wants to talk to me. I promise." 

That look only his protective older sister could give him crossed her features. He knew even through all her protests and claims to be protecting her friendships, that this was also in part of caring for her baby brother that sometimes felt too deeply, too quickly, for people who weren't in the same boat as him. 

"Just one dance, then. If she even comes tonight."

Sinking back into his chair as Gemma continued to flutter around the house, cheesy decorations in hand, a satisfied grin slipped into place on Harry's face. Knowing that (Y/N) was coming now, he really hoped Mitch didn't pull through with the corn costume.

—————

The purple glow Gemma had set up to emanate through the house was the perfect touch, Harry realized as he lent back against the breakfast nook, the view of the main space of the house perfect for him as he people-watched. Her invitation had apparently garnered interest in the entire neighborhood as Harry was able to pick out the faces of most of their neighbors and those who lived in the apartments bordering their subdivision. It felt like a teen movie, the comparison making Harry laugh, with the way alcohol was distributed out in novelty plastic cups with ghouls and ghosts printed on the sides, the contents of the glasses sloshing with the way people were dancing to the music that'd progressively become louder the more crowded the space got. 

Costumes of every type littered the room. A group of zombies were huddled by the backdoor, a pair of angels throwing shapes on the makeshift dance floor in the living room, and the Powerpuff girls along with a few of their most iconic villains had made an appearance as well. Amongst the groups and couples, single costumes of television characters, celebrities, and era specific getups were dotted throughout, coming together to make the perfect picture of Halloween. Parties like these were only fun when people weren't too full of themselves to dress up. As much as he played around with Gemma earlier, even Harry made a point to conjure up a costume (after he got the confirmation that Mitch had completely blown off the deal with the corn costume, of course). 

While it wasn't that creative given his identity, he couldn't help himself as he cast his spells and made a black pointed hat to sit on his head, his getup all black with fringed veils and bats stitched into the lace overlay on his flared pants. A well dressed witch, he had told Gemma when she rolled her eyes as he descended the stairs with a flourish just before guests started to arrive. As much as his sister wanted to disagree, call him out for not actually dressing up for the party, he knew she was going to see if she could make an outfit just like that soon enough. 

Speaking of his sister, he found her in the sea of guests, picking her out from the cat ears she had perched on the top of her head. She had been dragged into the fray of the dancefloor by her friends, leaving Harry to play the host with the most while she finally let loose. He didn't mind going around, greeting their neighbors and introducing himself while he nursed his own drink, knowing Gemma needed a break from all her worrying about making a good impression on these people. (Plus, he was given a slew of compliments on his outfit everywhere he went, so he was getting something out of this as well). By the time the party was in full swing, the constant in-pouring of guests slowing to a near halt, he was glassy eyed with his third drink in hand (he hadn't realized how much tequila he was pouring in until he realized he was just doing magic out in the open as he flicked his fingers to clean up the spills that littered the counter) while he watched his new home being filled with the laughter and mischief that he had been missing since moving away from the coven. 

But, there was one thing missing. 

"Are you waiting for someone?" Mitch mumbled behind the rim of his cup, lent up against the counter with Harry. 

"Hm?" Harry hummed, his reaction delayed as he looked to his friend.

"You've been watching the door for the last, like, five minutes. Are you waiting for someone?" he asked again, substantially less drunk than his counterpart. 

Harry didn't even realize he had his gaze trained on the front door until it was pointed out, making a point to whip his head back to face his friend, witch hat askew on the top of his head. "Oh, sorry," he murmured, not at all sorry, "Gem's friend was supposed to come, but she's not here yet." 

"The yoga one?" Mitch's dark brows were raised over his eyes. Harry didn't have even an ounce of embarrassment in him over the fact he'd told Mitch so much about her, that he knew immediately which of Gemma's friends he was looking forward to seeing.

Nodding into his cup as he sipped down another mouthful, Harry hummed. "Yeah, that one. I finally got Gemma to lay off some and let me talk to her if she came tonight." 

"Even after what happened with Meredith?" Harry could have rolled his eyes at the mention of the name. As far as he could remember, everything with Mere wasn't even that bad. 

"Yes," Harry sighed, taking another gulp of his drink when the doorknob on the front door didn't even twitch, "But, 's not like anything will happen if she doesn't show up." 

"I'm sure she will," Mitch reasoned, "It's still early in the night anyway, and she could have been stopping off at other part—" 

Harry didn't mean to cut Mitch off, but he couldn't help the way he choked on his drink the second the unlocked front door opened to reveal (Y/N) tentatively peeking into the party. He sputtered on the alcohol that burned in the back of his throat, aware of Mitch's hand slapping between his shoulder blades as he tried to suck in a breath though he couldn't find it in himself to tear his watery eyes from where she stood. 

"Is that her?" Mitch mumbled once Harry caught his breath, following his line of sight to the girl quietly shutting the door behind her as if the noise would disturb the loud music and rowdy set on people on the stairs. 

The breathy yeah he gets out is complimented by the soft smile stretching his lips. She was even dressed as a witch, he realized—a Stevie Nicks-era witch with gauzy fabrics and twinkling beads, but a witch nonetheless. He even spotted the purse hanging over her shoulder, stylized to be a witch's spell book with the name and the silhouette of a crescent moon stitched in gold over the black leather. Nice to know she, at the very least, would be fascinated by his culture.

"That's kind of funny," Mitch pointed out, nodding his chin in her direction as if Harry could have forgotten where she was, "She's dressed like you—a witch." 

Mitch was privy to the secret he and Gemma harbored, having met Harry in college. Being Mitch's roommate made it hard for Harry to keep himself in check, so after Mitch walked in on him concocting potions for the third time, he had to come clean. 

"'S cute," he mumbled out, dropping his drink off on the counter behind him when he determined he was going to talk her. "I'll be ri—" 

Just as he took a single step in her direction, he heard the sound of his sister's voice bubbling over the loud music filling the house. "(Y/N)! You made it!" 

He could tell she was plastered by the way she didn't even look a little embarrassed at the way she stumbled over her feet and a splash from her cup spilled her suede boots as she toddled to her friend. (Y/N) was much more reserved in her answer, nodding her head and speaking quietly while giving Gemma a hug. Harry watched as his sister tugged her to the kitchen, surely getting her a drink while he stood back, reaching behind him to take another swig of his drink. 

"What were you saying?" Mitch prodded, entirely too proud at seeing Harry's advances squandered for the time being. 

"Shut the fuck up." 

—————

Maybe Harry needed to be a little bit more careful, knowing he was leaning a little bit closer into tipsy territory than the comfortable buzz he'd been at earlier, but he couldn't help himself. 

(Y/N) was practically the center of the dancefloor as far as he was concerned. Her smiling face with her styled hair being tossed around to frame her features was the beacon in the middle of the muddled purple and orange hued living room, the music being an afterthought when her laughter was the main song that had Harry's heart thumping. He couldn't help himself as he traced his finger in the air, manipulating the beams of warm orange light to sit right on her as if it were a spotlight for the headlining performer. He just wanted a better view of her. 

Though he hadn't had a single chance to talk to her all night, that didn't mean he didn't keep an eye on her during that time. Not once, even with all the dancing and pushing happening on the packed danced floor, had her drink spilled, not with the way Harry ensured that every unbalanced raise of her cup was corrected with a trace of his finger in the air. She didn't go thirsty either, an enchantment keeping her cup full so she wouldn't have to stop having fun. He kept her spirits high even when Mitch teased Harry for being so invested in her time away from him; he didn't mind, not when each one of his tricks paid off, her smile glowing bright like the full moon outside. 

As the time ticked passed midnight, Halloween night technically over as the first of November had started twenty-three minutes prior, Harry didn't see their party ending any time soon. The main room was still packed, drinks still flowed in the kitchen, and every time he went around with a tray of shots for the guests to enjoy there wasn't a single glass left over. Though no new attendees had arrived after (Y/N), he hadn't seen many leave either. The energy filling the house had his aura turned up high, feeding off of the high enthusiasm exuding from each of his new friends. He didn't want it to end. 

While he was soaking in the fun of the space, a playlist going on in his head that had him touching his finger to the air as he added track after track to the running queue that played from the bass-heavy speakers, Harry hadn't realized he'd lost track of (Y/N) until he couldn't see her in the crowd. Gemma and her friends—including a pretty brown haired girl dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz that had Mitch currently wrapped round her with softened eyes—were still out on the floor, bubbly, bright, and loud as ever even with their missing piece. But, Harry had trained the orange spotlight to follow whatever which way she swayed. He just had to find the pumpkin glow and the witch standing underneath it. 

"I like your pants!" 

Harry jumped in his spot at the sound of the chirped voice bubbling off behind him. His vodka-dredged reflexes had him turning on his heel, the movement a lot slower than he intended. The orange light hit his hooded gaze first, a squint of his eyelids making him focus on the figure before him until details surfaced. 

With her hair a pile on the top of her head, stray strands plastered to her temples and neck with the sheen of sweat that covered her skin, stood his wannabe witch. (Y/N)'s gaze was cloudy as she took him in, though she seemed to be much more attentive than him. The gauzy sleeves of her costume were drooping down her shoulders, giving him more glimmering skin to drag his lazy eyes across if he hadn't been so wide-eyed surprised that she'd found him before he even had a chance to properly look for her. 

"Thank you," he choked out, remembering her chirped compliment in greeting. 

"Yeah, of course!" she beamed back, all but bouncing in her spot though he was sure she wasn't even aware she was doing so, "You're Gemma's friend, right? I've seen you pick her up from yoga before." 

So he hadn't been imagining the way her eyes would linger, even after giving a polite wave goodbye. "'M her brother, yeah," he clarified, leaning forward so he wouldn't have to shout to get his words across. 

"You're Harry!" (Y/N) bubbled, features lighting up with recognition, "She's talked about you before!" 

"And I'm sure it was all terrible," Harry joked, though knowing Gemma it wouldn't be that far off if she spilled all of his bad habits with her pretty friend, "You're (Y/N), right?" 

"No, no, no," (Y/N) shook her head, hands out as if to ward him off, "She always talks about how funny you are, never anything bad! I didn't realize that was you picking her up those nights, I would have said hi earlier." 

"'S alright," he waved off, thinking it was cute how excited she got when she drank. He was much closer to the mellow end of the spectrum when it came to alcohol. A perfect balance between the two of them, he thought. 

"And, yes, I am (Y/N), by the way," she laughed at herself as she caught up to his earlier question, leaning into the counter beside him. He hoped Gemma wasn't paying attention enough to catch the way he turned to face her, giving her the full of his attention with his cup being pushed to the wayside. 

"Gems talks about you all the time," Harry mused, talking quietly enough she had to crane her neck and shuffle closer to hear. 

"She does?!" was (Y/N)'s awed response, her eyes sweetly rounding out as she gazed up at him. "She's, like, my best friend. That yoga class always sucked before she started coming—it's all so cliquey, and I never got invited to the after class drinks the instructor would put on." 

A pout puffed out Harry's lips as he reached across, settling his hand carefully on her plush hip. "That's not nice. But, Gems talks about you like you're her best friend, too. 'M happy she has you; I was worried when we moved out here. She can be a little nervous trying to make friends, but she says y'were the first one to put your mat down by her and not make her feel bad when she couldn't hold some of those bendy poses." 

"Some of them are really hard," (Y/N) nodded, sipping from her cup though there was little left behind the guise of ghosts and goblins printed on the plastic as his enchantment on her drink wore off. "But, what about you?" she chirped, wobbling some as she bounced in his hold, "Do you have any best friends here yet?" 

Dimples deep in his cheeks, Harry could feel the muscles beginning to grow sore the longer he talked to her. "M'old university roommate lives out here, so I've been getting to hang out with him a lot more now that he's close. Actually," Harry paused, peering out at the sea of dancers taking over his living room, "he's over there"—pointing to where Dorothy and a costume-less Mitch were dancing—"with your friend." 

"With Sarah?!" (Y/N) blurted, eyes growing wide, "Your friend is the one that's too cool to dress up?" 

Harry laughed at her chiding. "Well, it was either that or a corn outfit—I personally think he picked wisely. If he'd picked otherwise, I promised I'd match him as some butter, so I think it worked out better for everyone this way." 

He only caught a glimpse of her features lighting up, mouth dropping into a smiling gape before their attention was stolen away. Somehow, over the volume of the music, his sister managed to yell (Y/N)'s name loud enough to be heard. With a gasp and her hair fluttering behind her as she whipped her head in the direction of Gemma's voice. 

Following (Y/N)'s line of sight, Harry caught his sister's eye as she beckoned (Y/N) with a flick of her hand to come back. The gloss of her eyes made it clear she was leaning on the side of drunk though the second she made eye contact with Harry, that pout turned hard. The glare of her gaze was quick, the same kind of look the would have fire sprouting from her fingertips if they hadn't been in the middle of a party. She was mad, mad that he was taking advantage of the permission he had been given earlier to speak to her pretty friend. With (Y/N)'s attention placed elsewhere, Harry only shrugged with a lopsided smile on his lips. 

Giving a small nod to Gemma, having disregarded the squinted look she gave to her brother, (Y/N) started curling out of Harry's hold. Just as he dropped his hand from her hip, the warmth of her skin lingering on his palm, she grabbed for his hand. Lacing her fingers between his, she gave a gentle tug as she edged towards the dancefloor. 

"Come dance with me," she requested in a smiley voice. 

"Don't know if m'sister would like that much, but I don't think I really care," he told her, his dimple sinking deeper into his cheek as he solidified his hold on her hand. 

"What do you mean?" she asked as he came up beside her, a pinch knotting her brows together.

He traced his gaze over her features before tugging her along through the mass of their neighbors dancing in his living room, eyes lingering over the height of her dewy cheekbones. "She's worried 'm gonna like you a little too much, love, that's all." 

Once close enough, Harry used his grip on her hand to tug her in front of him, chest to chest with Gemma standing behind (Y/N). It didn't take his sister long to reach for (Y/N)'s shoulder, black painted nails wrapping around the slope as she tugged on her dress. 

"Is my brother bothering you?" Gemma shouted over the music, absently taking a sip of her drink. 

"Harry?" (Y/N) bubbled, her hand in his squeezing as she tossed a glance at him, "No, no! I asked him to come dance with us. Is that okay?" 

At the mention of his tagalong being (Y/N)'s idea, he could see the way Gemma begrudgingly reined herself in. "Okay," she relented, "Let me know if he starts being annoying, though. He does that sometimes." 

(Y/N) laughed off her offer, muttering something to Gemma that Harry couldn't hear before she was placing her attention on him once more. On instinct, she moved along with the song, trailing her grip on his hand to land further up his arm while the other still had her drink. 

Feeling her warmth pressed against him, her smiling lips and bright, glossy gaze directed up at him, Harry felt his heartstrings tug. She really was so pretty, and here he had her tucked against his chest with his touch warming her. There was something to be said about the sparks flittering through his system, the ripples reminiscent of the magic that was a part of his being. It was easy to give in to the moonbeam that had accidentally just stepped on his toes. 

"What?!" she bubbled off, standing on her tiptoes when she noticed he was too distracted to dance with her. 

Shaking his head, he brought his hand up and brushed a stray piece of hair that brushed the top of her cheekbone. "Nothing, darling." 

He swore he saw her eyes sparkle. 

—————

Harry didn't mind using magic to make his life easier in mundane ways, but this wasn't something he could use a flick of his wrist to fix. At least not without exposing both him and his sister to their entire neighborhood. 

"Come with me, darling. Let's go to the bathroom and see what we can do, yeah?" His grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened as she wobbled on her feet trying to follow behind him. 

He could hear the murmured okay coming from behind him, her mournful voice indicative of the pout he was sure was on her lips. Even without looking behind him, he was sure her gaze was still stuck on the spill dripping down the front of her dress, brightly colored liquor and juice staining the creamy white of her costume. Someone had bumped her just right when she had her drink huddled between their chests, knocking her cup askew and sending the contents down her chest.

While Harry could simply snap his fingers and lift the stain from the fabric without even a single dot of the shockingly blue juice remaining, he knew that wasn't a wise choice, even in his tequila touched brain. Instead, he was forced to clench his fist to keep from instinctively raising his fingers with a spark of magic on the tips, and escort (Y/N) to the bathroom. While it seemed the patrons of the party had began to spread out, some finding refuge in the backyard as well as waves realizing there were snacks set out in the kitchen for them to munch on, the space was still packed beyond comfort. Harry knocked people out of the way as gently as he could, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's with a soft smile on his face. 

Making it to the restroom, he knocked with his ear pressed to the wood. When no response came with (Y/N) shuffling uncomfortably behind him, he forged forward, jumping back as soon as he saw a blonde on their knees with their companion's thighs spread and head thrown back. Gemma definitely did not need to know that happened in their bathroom. 

"Shit, sorry!" he blabbered out before swinging the door shut as quickly as he could, his grip on (Y/N)'s hand still tight. 

Turning around, he saw his wannabe witch looking with wide eyes and her mouth dropped in a small gap. Their eyes met for a moment, flicking back to the unassuming door that was the only shield between them and someone else's intimate moment before matching once more. 

It was (Y/N) that cracked first, a choked laugh snapping from her lungs before she was melting into her giggles with her eyes fluttering closed. Harry couldn't help but to follow suit, the embarrassing moment combining with the amount of alcohol in his system to draw out a matching set of laughter.

"Did they even see you?" (Y/N) got out, doubling over with her forehead pressing into Harry's chest. He could feel her warmth through the sheer fabric covering his torso, only the piping of the spiderweb motif stitched through the mesh separating them. 

"I don't think so," Harry breathed out, his nose brushing the strands of her hair as he curled into her, "And I think the one on the floor was dressed like a Minion. I feel like that should be illegal."

His extra details only served to steal (Y/N)'s breath further as she succumbed to her laughter and all but fell into Harry's arms. It was ridiculous, the whole situation, but Harry only laughed as much as he did because he couldn't help but feel infected by her energy. Her reaction was his favorite part. 

As she slowly caught her breath, Harry ducked down with his lips hovering by her ear. "We still need to get y'cleaned up, love," he reminded his moonbeam, "The only other bathroom is upstairs. Can I take y'up there with me?" 

She didn't hesitate before she was nodding her head, unfurling herself from around him though neither of their goofy smiles dissipated. Along with her grip on his hand, (Y/N) reached to grab for the hem of his top in her fist, keeping close as he escorted her to the stairs leading up. 

Despite being only a floor above and hallway away from the noise, the second floor felt significantly more peaceful that the party raging on below. Luckily, no one seemed to have dared to go above and peek around the bedrooms for anywhere to conduct their own private times, leaving his bedroom free and clear for him to take (Y/N) to the adjoining bathroom. 

It wasn't until he was pushing open the unassuming white door that he remembered how not normal he had the space. While he and Gemma were considered to be apart of a very modern generation of those who were gifted with the Craft, that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the aesthetic and traditions of the past. That was why his room could be considered something of a lair if Gemma got to teasing him. 

Heavy drapes covered his available walls, blocking out the asylum white painting the plaster with ornate weavings of star maps and whirling designs baring crests and traditional scenes unique to his home coven. Shelves were nailed to the walls with bookcases propped up on either side of his potion table, the planks of purple painted wood holding volumes and tomes of spell books, diaries of witches before him, and his own detailings of magical happenings he planned on passing to his own coven when he formed one. In between the clusters of books were vials and flasks, tubes and containers all holding various ingredients to his most used potions. While they weren't readily available at a Whole Foods or farmer's markets, his shelves were still stocked to the brim of newt's tongue, friar's goo, and pixie clippings. Some bottles were glowing in the low light, others boiling without any heat beneath, and the rest standing atop the wood with clear views as to what was held inside. His bed had been an afterthought in the design process, leaving the mattress to float from the floor with the help of an incantation after Harry didn't feel like picking out a proper frame and boxspring to go along with the bedding. He hadn't planned on inviting anyone to his bedroom, so he didn't bother to will away any of the less than mortal items dotted throughout. 

Making a point to slow himself down with a calculated trip over his own feet, Harry flicked his fingers with a mumbled incantation under his breath. The vials were now replaced with the illusion of wildflowers and different decorations filling the glasses, his spellbooks guised as classics, and bed now held up with he help of a cherry-wood frame. The glamour rippled into place just in time as (Y/N) stumbled in beside him.

"Are you okay?" she giggled out, her attention solely on him after his fake stumble. 

"'M alright, yeah," he agreed with a breathy laugh, "Jus' drank a little more than I thought, I guess." 

(Y/N) accepted his explanation readily with a giggling nod of her head. Pulling her along with him, Harry showed her to the bathroom, opening the door with a flourish. Working together, they came up with a drunken plan to try to wipe the stain out using some soap and washcloths he had stored under his sink. All it took was a few swipes over the soaked stains to realize they weren't going to get too far with this method. 

"Do you have bleach or something we could put on it?" (Y/N) murmured with a furrowed brow, her hands holding the top of her costume taut as she worked on the bust, and Harry the skirt. 

"Not while it's on you," he told her absently, making a conscious effort to keep from using his magic to buff away the electric blue on her dress. Harry didn't realize she'd stopped her efforts until he looked up from where he was wiping away with a still pristine—though soapy—flannel, (Y/N) no longer matching his buffing. "What?" he asked when he matched her gaze. 

"Do you have anything I can wear while we bleach it?" 

Harry blinked as he processed her question. She wanted to wear his clothes?

"Are y'sure, love? 'S gonna take a while to get the stain out even with bleach, and we'd still have to rinse and dry it. 'S already really late." 

Her answer came with the help of a shrug. "It's already, like, one a.m. anyway. What's a few more hours?" 

A smile grew on his features at her nonchalance. She was cute.

"Alright," he said, standing to the full of his height, "I'll grab y'something and y'can get changed while I take your stuff to the laundry. That alright?" 

The perky nod she gave him was enough to have him backing out of the bathroom with his dimples poking into the apples of his cheeks. Harry gazed through rose-tinted glasses as he rifled through his dresser, looking for his softest sweats and most comfortable top to let her wear while he feigned the act of running her costume through the wash (now that he suggested the timeframe, he kind of had to stick to it despite the fact he was going to have the stain out in two seconds flat with a quick spell). Landing on a pair of emerald green sweatpants and a slouchy black top, he returned to the bathroom to find (Y/N) untwisting her hair from the ornate clip she had stashed in the strands. 

"Thank you!" Her voice was a chirp as she smiled up at him, the clothes being bundled to her chest after taking them from his offered hand. "I'll be out in a second, H." 

The dazed nod of his head came just before she shut the door to give herself some privacy in his bathroom. Harry didn't even think before he was sinking into the edge of his bed, gaze stitched to the jamb of the door to watch for any changes in the sliver of light peeking through, any sign of her coming back to him. 

Before tonight, Harry had thought she was pretty, sure. He wanted to get to know her, of course, but he couldn't say his attraction went further than the pretty face that was presented to him every time he picked up his sister, especially with only a few stories here and there shared by Gemma that explained some of the sweet character that made up (Y/N). But after this, getting to know her while she danced with him, flirting and playing while giving up tidbits of herself and the life she had outside of that yoga class, Harry could feel the cocoon of butterflies infiltrating his stomach. 

This was one of Gemma's friends Harry could understand where she was coming from with her attempts to fend him off and away from her. She was entirely too good for him, he was realizing. Even with her drunken mouth, not once had a soured word left her lips. Her unfiltered thoughts were just as kind and bubbly and Gems had talked her up to be. 

But, while he could understand he may not be the kind of perfection that should be gifted to a woman like (Y/N), that didn't mean he wasn't going to try anyway. Part of lacking perfection meant he made up for it with a smidge of selfishness. 

The second (Y/N) was twisting the knob and pushing the door open, Harry rose to his feet, ready to dote on her and fix every problem she might present to him. Dressed in his dark clothing, seeing the fabric adorning her body was a stark contrast to the creams and pastels he'd grown accustomed to seeing her in, especially compared to the ethereal white dress she'd had draped over her the whole night. 

Emerald green sweats dragged over the stained hardwood under her feet as she stepped out of the bathroom, the wad of white and blue fabric balled up against her chest while her hair had been clipped back, the twist refined and cleaner than how she'd had it tied back before. Her makeup wasn't quite as perfect as he was sure it had been at the start of the night, the shine of her skin peeking through the layer of powders and pigments she had distributed with her lashes losing the high curl he'd met her with. But, Harry liked those peeks at the less-than-perfect (Y/N) beneath; he liked every version of her. 

"Thank you, again, Harry," (Y/N) sighed, the glassy lacquer over her eyes shining in the low light of his bedroom, "You're sure it's alright if I stick around until my clothes are clean?" 

"Of course," he answered on instinct, canting his head to the side, "We'll jus' have to stay up here and hide, I think. I hear some people around here are real sticklers about having a costume." 

Catching the joke at her expense with the way she had reacted at Mitch not having dressed up, (Y/N) let out a peal of laugher, boosting his ego at the high reaction to his mid-level joke. When she leveled out, though her eyes were still creased and squinted at the width of her smile, she placed a gentle hand on his arm that effected his balance more than he would have liked to admit. "It's alright if I crash in your room then? I promise as soon as my stuff is done, I'll be right out, though!"

"More than alright with that, darling. Y'don't need to worry about rushing out, either," he cemented, the words sounding a lot dreamier than he meant, "I was getting tired down there, anyway. And we can actually talk up here; 's quiet." 

(Y/N)'s features softened at the mention of her taking her time with him, getting a moment to stay and speak with him without a time limit. 

With her looking up at him like that, it took effort for him to excuse himself with her stained costume in hand, keeping up the facade of depositing it in the laundry room and working to get the stain out with all the bleach and detergent he had. He left his room with slow steps, more than one glance tossed over his shoulder as he saw her venture towards his glamoured bookshelf. A look of wonder crossed her face when he was sure she wasn't aware he was watching. 

It was that vision that tided him over as he trekked to the laundry room, following the motions until he reached the space. Forgoing the bleach and whatever else she figured he would use to help resurrect the fabric, Harry only brushed the pads of his fingers over the electric blue stain, a warmth following after as the incantation muttered under his breath took effect. Before his eyes, the blue sucked itself in, reducing the long draw that started on the bodice of her dress and down to the mid of her skirt until it was nothing more than a tiny dot on the waist that flickered away in a blink. In pristine condition, Harry plucked at the dress by the shoulders and held it up. 

Perfect. 

In order to maintain the facade, he carefully hung up the garment in the laundry room, figuring he at least had another hour to spend with a quick break between so he could pretend to throw the dress into the dryer. The time it took him to make his way to the laundry room had been cut in half on his way back, eager to return to the wannabe witch in his quarters. 

Pushing open the slightly cracked door, he found (Y/N) on his bed with one of his vials in hand and a book splayed open on the mattress. She looked up at him with bright eyes when she realized he had returned. 

While his illusions were strong, able to trick the eye of even the most skeptical of witches, that didn't mean they could hold up against someone digging their fingers through the veil. The spell could only do so much when whoever was gazing upon it went looking for answers. 

"Harry!" she bubbled off, practically bouncing in her spot with the mattress creaking underneath. 

"W-What are y'looking at, love?" he asked her, voice cautious as he took measured steps towards her. While she didn't seem particularly disturbed by what she found, he didn't want to spook her if she happened to be teetering on the edge. 

"One of those books on your shelf," she smiled, pointing at a passage on the worn page in front of her, "You really go all out, don't you?" 

Crawling onto the bed beside her, Harry peered over her shoulder at the book. A spell for how to grow a witch's garden, complete with a guide for the best seeds for beginners and an illustration with different critters growing out of a soiled plot. This was a good one; he used this one a lot in college when he was too broke to go out and get his potion ingredients. It had been hard to hide from Mitch before he knew, though.

"What do you mean?" Harry pressed, feeling sober as he sussed out where she was coming from. 

"For Halloween," she stated, a 'duh' tone to her words, "With all your decorations, I mean. Where did you even find something like this?" 

Harry deflated on the spot when he realized she thought this was all apart of his costume, his commitment to the holiday stretching as far as filling his bedroom. "Oh yeah," he sighed, a gently nod of his head having his curls swaying around his face, "'S my favorite time of year, what can I say." 

"I can tell," (Y/N) laughed, turning the page of the book with a vial of lavender's blood in her hand, "It's like a witch's lair in here. All you're missing is one of those big pots." 

"A cauldron?" Only the head of the coven had one of those. 

"Yes, that! Where they make all their potions and cook kids for dinner, and everything." The way (Y/N) muttered those details, her words could have been taken as fact. If he got far enough, he knew he would have a lot of fun dispelling all of the myths floating around her pretty head. 

"I'll have to think of that for next year. Definitely not really selling the whole witch thing without it, am I?" Propping himself up beside her with a hand sinking into the mattress behind him, Harry settled into his spot. With (Y/N)'s shoulder exposed thanks to the slouchy nature of the shirt he gave her, he felt himself begin to float off in his thoughts.

He wondered what she would taste like if he stole a kiss on the cuff of her exposed shoulder. 

"I don't know," she mused, the sound of her voice pulling him out of his head, "I think you sold it really well. Even without that pot thing, you've got that thing about you."

"I do?" he pressed, feeling all too satisfied at the peek into her thoughts about him.

"Yeah, it's like... I don't know what to call it," she started, her voice falling to a lower volume as her brows pinched together, "Is it an aura? Or is it a—" 

Her explanation was cut off as soon as she turned her head to face him, her mouth dropping into a gap when she realized just how close he'd come to her. The tangle of her lashes could be seen up close now that he wasn't hindered by the colored lights from downstairs or the obstacle of distance. If he could, Harry would have sat here all night counting her lashes and recounting them three times over just to be sure. Anything to keep him close. 

But, right now, his main focus was the pout of her gaped lips. 

"What were y'saying, love?" he prodded, absently bringing his free hand up to cradle the soft of her cheek. He could have sworn he felt the skin heat under his palm. 

"Um," she hummed, her gaze flicking between his own before skating down the bridge of his nose and the hills of his Cupid's bow, "I don't know, actually." 

"My aura?" he offered though he didn't even really listen to what he was saying. 

Recognition flickered in her irises for just a moment before it was melted away in favor of letting something much warmer and honey-dipped to take it's place. Again, there was that circuit she ran from his eyes, to his nose, and down to the pout of his lips. Oh, a quick detour to the small mole that was stationed just off to the side of his mouth. 

"Yeah, that," she muttered, shifting in her spot to give him the full of her attention with the book forgotten for the time being, "I like your's. It makes me feel... warm. It's nice." 

"Yeah?" he smiled, tilting his head to the side just so, "'M nice? I like your aura too, honey. 'S very sweet; giving me butterflies if 'm being honest." 

"I am?" she asked, her features lighting up as she stilled with her gaze matching his. 

"Mhm," Harry hummed, a grin stretching across his features, "You've got me bad, darling, I can't lie. Been wanting to get to know y'since I picked up Gem that first time. You're so pretty, I couldn't get y'off my mind." 

When the tip of his nose nudged against hers, Harry felt a bit smug when he heard the hitch in her breath. His hold on her cheek solidified into a grounding touch, ensuring he was right here with her and he had her just where he wanted. In the same moment he opened his mouth to ask the same question he'd had on his mind since he saw her outside of the yoga studio, he was cut off by the sound of his wannabe witch's voice. 

"Can I kiss you?" 

It was a no-brainer, the way he reacted. Not only was she the sweetest thing in the world asking him for a kiss, but she'd read his mind completely. Maybe she did have some power in her, if she'd read him so clearly. 

Tipping his head, Harry pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. The lingering essence of alcohol was the first taste he picked up from her skin before he was washed away with the flavor of the remnants of her lip gloss she'd started the night with. Notes of hot cocoa with whipped cream had him smiling into the kiss, the slight grit of glitter touching at his own lips.

"Hot chocolate?" he murmured against her lips, unterrupting himself with another taste of her soft lips. 

"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, the noise almost a throwaway as she brought her hands to cradle his face, the vial of lavender's blood rolling somewhere across his bed. At least he had a cork in it. 

"Your lip gloss. 'S hot chocolate, isn't it?" 

(Y/N)'s mouth erupted into a smile that matched his own, only falling when she had to pucker to give him something real to taste. "Oh yeah," she sighed with amusement tinting the words, "I forgot about that, sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, love," he said, going in for another smattering of kisses, the soft sounds of the contact filling his room. "I like it." 

She all but melted at his admission, Harry being the only thing that kept her steady as she fell into him. Mindful of the fact the both of them had been drinking tonight, (Y/N) seemingly a tiny bit more effected still, he maneuvered himself to lay back onto his bed with a bounce of the mattress. He pulled (Y/N) to lay atop him, her torso pressed against his while their legs tangled together side-by-side over his duvet. 

Slotting his lips between her own, Harry got to taste her mouth and a swipe of her tongue. As much as he wanted to explore more, taste more, learn more, he left her to tease him with those disappearing licks from the tip of her tongue and wet kisses delivered to his lips. It was more than enough to feel her heartbeat hammering against his chest from how tightly they were pressed together. 

"Harry?" she asked after who knows how long of their only communication coming in the form of lingering kisses.

"Hm?"

"How much longer do you think for my clothes?" 

Harry hummed with a growing smile. He feigned deep thought as he pulled away just enough to graze the corner of her mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the apple of her cheek. "We have time." 

—————

"Did you sleep with her?" 

Harry rolled his eyes as soon as he heard his sister's voice in the kitchen. He had been hoping he woke up early enough to avoid her. 

"No, Gemma." 

"So why is her costume in the laundry room and she's in your bed?" 

He was too hungover for this. 

"She spilled something on her dress, and then we jus' talked in my room until she fell asleep. I swear on mum's spellbook that we didn't have sex." He looked her in the eye as he made his promise, raising a brow to see if she would bother to argue with him. 

For the first time since moving away from the coven, Harry saw his sister give in. With a flutter of her eyes that he swore were identical to their mother's, she took her metaphorical step back. 

"Sorry," she offered, shaking her head as she picked up another discarded ghoul cup, "I think I'm in a bad mood this morning." 

"'S alright," Harry told her, meaning the sentiment, "I get it, you know. After really meeting her, I get why you've been a little protective." 

Gemma brightened up at the roundabout way he had admitted she was right. "Yeah? Doesn't she kind of remind you of C—" 

"Colleen," he finished for her, referencing one of the sweetest women of their coven. The resident healer and brightest of their little family. Despite being closer to one hundred than Harry could imagine living, she never lost that starry sparkle or softened heart. 

"A younger, not as nosy version, but she's definitely a little like Colleen." 

Harry agreed with a hum as he jerked his chin to commanded the butter he'd pulled from the fridge to spread across his toast, extra slices for (Y/N) included. "I promise 'm not trying to mess anything up, Gems, really. We talked a lot last night, and she ended up falling asleep, that's all. But, if she'll let me, I do want to take her out." Harry paused, shuffling his feet with his gaze falling to the kitchen island. "Is that alright?" 

"You don't have to ask me for permission to date anyone," Gemma stated, shaking her head with a twist to her lips, "I'm sorry I've been hard on you about all of that stuff. I think I'm just missing mum a lot, so I'm trying to be like her as if that'll be the same, so I'm sorry about that. Whatever you do, as long as you're happy, I'm fine with it." 

It was unspoken the way Harry offered her a hug with his opened arms, Gemma wrapping her own around his middle when she was close enough. As much as they loved to argue, Harry would do anything for his sister; there was no one else he'd rather try out this suburb experiment with. 

A silence that felt alot like the kind that used to fill their home with the coven settled over the party-torn kitchen. Running a hand over her spine, Harry tightened his hug just before loosening and pulling away enough to catch her reaction to his next works. 

"I think (Y/N) knows, though. About the witch thing." 

"What?!" 

—————

Harry squeezed (Y/N)'s hand in his own as he followed the directions she'd given him to take her home. In his passenger seat, she was still clad in her borrowed clothes, slouching shoulder prevailing with her skin shining the morning light.

"I had the weirdest dream last night," (Y/N) started, sounding much too chipper for a night of drinking and the fact the time was still before noon. 

"Yeah? What was it?" Harry pressed, hoping he sounded as interested as he actually was despite the lack of energy under his skin. 

"Well, you were—I don't even know how to describe it," she muttered, stumbling over her ideas though Harry was very much stuck on the idea of him starring in one of her dreams. Even if it was weird. "I guess you were a kind of witch or something," (Y/N) picked up, her choice of words getting Harry's eyes widening before schooling his features. 

"Really? What was I doing?" 

"You had one of those spell books you had on your shelf, but it was real," (Y/N) bubbled off, sounding sweetly enthused at her imagination, "You were showing me all these potions, and there was this black cat following you, and then things got kind of weird but you were still a witch." 

"What got weird?" Harry pressed, his brows pinching as he took another instructed turn from his GPS.

"Well," she pitched, messy hair falling around her face, "Your black cat turned into some kind of squid or something and started inking all over the place and I kept trying to get the stains out and no one would help me. I had to wake myself up before I got too upset." 

The laughter that puffed from Harry's chest was incredulous as he listened to her recount the tale with conviction behind it. "'M sorry I didn't help you, love," he offered, bringing their joined hands to his lips with a kiss pressed to the back of hers, "I promise I'll help y'if m'cat ever turns into a squid, alright?" 

While his smile lingered on his face, Harry could tell the tone shifted when he pulled up in front of (Y/N)'s apartment building. Silence settled over the car. 

"Har—"

"So, I—" 

(Y/N) cut herself off with a jump while Harry immediately snapped his mouth closed to let her go first. It only took a nod of encouragement on his end and a squeeze of her hand to have (Y/N) taking the opportunity to speak. 

"I was just going to say that, I know we kissed and everything already, last night," she started, a beep breath filling her lungs in the middle when her gaze dropped to her hand in his, "But, I was wondering if you might want to go out, still? I get it if this was just a little party-thing, but—um—" 

"Are you asking me on a date?" Harry couldn't help the smug curl of his lips, a dimple thumbing into his cheek. 

With a shake of her head, gaze still down, (Y/N) rolled her eyes though the motion lacked grit with a tender smile on her lips. "I guess so. You don't have to sound so sure of yourself, though." 

"Me? Smug and cocky? I don't see it," he teased, leaning across the center console until he only had to speak in a gentle tone for her to hear, "If 'm not too sure of myself for you, I would love to take y'out, honey. It would be a bit of a bummer if we have to tell people our first date was jus' us making out in m'bedroom after walking in on someone getting head in the bathroom." 

The bubbling laugh he pulled from her was one he wished he could commemorate somehow, make it into something he could wear with pride wherever he went. That was something he would be smug about, no questions asked. 

"I don't know, I don't think that sounds that bad," she played along, chancing a look through the fan of her lashes, "But—um—I don't have to work on Friday, so maybe we could go to dinner or something?" 

"Got anywhere special in mind?" he asked, a lilt to his tone. 

Her messy hair fluttered with a nod of her head. "Kind of. There's this place downtown that's pretty good, but it's two doors down from this shop that has all of these 'witchy' things, so we could go there, too, if you haven't been yet." 

"I don't think I have," Harry smiled, the curl lopsided, "Y'gonna take me and show me how it all works?" 

The way she lit up at his gentle words had dangerous implications. If she wasn't careful, Harry was going to keep her forever. 

"Maybe, they even have a cauldron to go in your room next year." 

"We can only hope." 

He couldn't help but to kiss her then. The scent of hot cocoa and sparkle of glitter stained his mouth all the way home. 

—————

I know this is late for a halloween fic but I really hope you guys still like it! thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in !

[i-trash-about-things]

a.n.: I can't believe this took me 6 freaking months to write. It definitely doesn't live up for the hype, but for some reason the words just wouldn't flow. In the mean time, I graduated! Actually went to prom! It kinda sucked, I really don't see the hype behind it!

Anyway, enjoy– and thank you for the patience to those that were interested in this story. If you're still interested by the end of this part– well, you'll know for yourself if there will be more lol ;)

Multiple perspectives (3rd and 1st person); Henderson!Reader; GN!Reader; use of Y/N; Billy Hargrove Survived (but he isn't a racist piece of shit); Everyone might be OOC, sorry lol; swearing; light violence; mostly fluff; English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn’t make sense :p; no beta, we die like Vecna should’ve

4.5k words.

Third Time's The Charm.

Dustin’s day has been good, in his less than humble opinion.

School sucked the same as always, but hey! Everything other than that was actually pretty awesome!

His older sibling popping by on a whim wasn’t a rare occasion, far from it. When they first moved to college, he cried the whole day thinking he would only see them on Christmas, and now it’s like they never moved in the first place!

Well, maybe it’s because of the Upside Down thing and how they almost died about a million times in the last 4 years, but Dustin liked to believe it’s because they just love him very very much.

But, one thing actually did change.

Eddie.

“Dustin, my man, my favorite nerd, what a sight to the sore eye you are right now!”

Speak of the devil.

Him and Eddie have known each other for a while. I mean, how could he not when the metal-head has been his sibling's best friend for almost all his life?

And with the time to get used to each other, plus Dustin’s natural attentiveness and attention to detail, he can read this guy like the cheap rip-off comic of spider-man he is.

Eddie wants something.

“Is that a new upgrade to your walkie? Dude, that looks sick, what does it do?”

“Nothing, it’s just a normal radio actually.”

“Oh.”

A snort leaves his nose. Dustin shakes his head, setting the walkie talkie on the library table before looking up to his friend.

“You really aren’t subtle, my friend.”

“First things first: how dare you. Secondly-” Eddie pushes the nearest chair back, giving him enough space to sit on the old table. The notebook under him crinkles, but he just pushes it aside, clearly in too much of a rush to care about a random person’s notes. “I need your help.”

“If it’s about the whipped cream on Lucas’ backpack and his basketball shoes, it’s too late. The operation is already in motion.”

“Operation- wait, did you put whipped cream on Sinclair’s shoes?”

“What? No I didn’t. You didn’t hear that from me.”

“Mhm.” Eddie just sends Dustin a look, raising an eyebrow with just a very done expression on his eyes, before shaking his head. “You know what, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

He leans closer, likes he’s about to tell the biggest secret of his life. The notes beneath his butt crumble further.

“It’s about your sibling.”

“Y/N? What they have to do with anything?”

“I’m gonna ask 'em to prom.”

If Dustin were drinking something, he would’ve done a spit take right now.

“WHAT?!”

“SHHHH!” The other school library attendees shush him, all glaring in their direction. Dustin flushes a little, curling into himself, but Eddie doesn’t even flinch.

“I want to take your older sibling to prom, Henderson. Like, real bad.”

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“That’s my sibling!”

“And my best friend! So??”

“So–” Dustin sputters. How does he even respond to that?!

Don’t get him wrong, of all the people he could’ve picked to compete for your hand, Eddie would always be his champion. His two favorite people??? Sign him up!

Doesn’t mean his into it, tho!

“Why?!”

“What do you mean ‘why’?! You’ve ever met ‘em?! They're the coolest most beautiful, and funniest person I’ve ever known! Why wouldn��t I want to take them to prom?”

“No, not that- why the change? I thought you wanted to go with Chrissy??”

That gets a reaction out of him.

Eddie flinches, looking away. He passes a hand through his hair, half hiding himself beneath the brown curls.

“Chrissy… She’s…”

Dustin does not like the hesitation. The kid crosses his arms over his chest, squinting up at Eddie with distrust.

“Look, I’m all for you going after my big sibling–”

“Really? That wasn’t what it looked like two seconds ago.”

Dustin squints further, frowning, and Eddie groans.

“Just keep going.”

“As I was saying, I don’t mind you taking my big sibling to prom… If you actually mean it.”

It’s his turn to frown, a mirror of Dustin’s expression, but in confusion and a little bit of offense.

“What? Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“You were just drooling over Chrissy, like, two days ago! I get you getting rejected, but don’t use them as a rebound, dude!”

“What?!”

“SHHHHH!” Strike two, the people around them shush them both again. Dustin doesn’t flinch this time, both him and Eddie a bit too enthralled in the topic at hand.

“How could you say that?! You know how much I care about Y/N!”

“I know that, but I also know how much they cares about you.”

“What does that has to do with anything?”

“Uh- Literally everything? What, you think you can just go and ask them all willy nilly to go to prom with you like it’s no big deal, and they won’t feel like it’s a big deal? Thye care, dude! What you say matters to them!”

Something in that makes Eddie pause, breath hitching on the tip of his tongue. He knew that, of course… Didn’t he?

His mind flashes back to the three years ago, just in the middle of prom season.

“Y/N Henderson, you did not–”

“Oh but I did! I did, despite it all!”

Eddie feels the bright afternoon sun on his back, the ever warming spring air making his hair and their hair flutter in the wind.

Today has been a weird day. His friends all seemed either jittery or smug, like they know something he doesn’t, a joke he didn’t get the punchline yet.

But the weirdest thing? His best friend wasn’t waiting for him by his parking spot.

At the end of class, he found a pretty envelope on his locker, attached to it a blue little flower– one of the few he recognizes. Forget-me-not’s.

“6 years sure go by fast. We’ve been through a lot in that time, didn’t we? And we will go through a lot more shit, knowing us like I do.

I was hoping you’d indulge me on a little game, just for old times sake.

Check the supply closet closest to you.”

From then on, he went on a surprisingly elaborate scavenger hunt. Passing through closets, to bathrooms, even checking in with his friends when the little clues told him to. Surely enough, each one handed him a new letter, and each one had a soft and excited smile on their lips.

After a good half hour of running around the school like a headless chicken, Eddie had accumulated enough clues to fill both his pockets and enough flowers for a small bouquet. The last letter sits on his hand as he dashes around the halls, a big smile on his lips.

“Ok, I promise this is the last one– for real this time, I swear.

This had been a rough year on you, but I was hoping to send it off with a bang. One last middle finger to the world before I have to leave you behind to fend for yourself in the lion’s den.

So, Edward Munson, meet me by the woods, in our usual spot.”

“Henderson, you absolute maniac!” Eddie all but jumps over the picnic table, practically throwing himself on his best friends arms. They don't even blink, only opening up and holding him. Firm, steady and warm. Their laughter feels like electricity and care all at once over his skin, and he breaks into goosebumps.

“Did you like it? Had any fun?”

“Hell yeah I did! How long have you been planning this, dude?!”

“Ah, who cares about that?” They flick their wrist, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. Eddie’s way too used to their dismissive and nonchalant nature at this point, so he just laughs and hugs them close again.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He can’t see, but their smile softens. The hold on him tightens, and they buries their face into the mess of his hair.

“You’re you. That’s more than enough.”

After a beat, they finally pull away from the other. Eddie doesn’t even questions at their dazed gaze, used to it at this point, even if he never truly knew the reason behind it. He squeezes their shoulders, still a little incredulous at the situation. Taking his little moment of silence as an opportunity, Y/N steps back and takes one last flower from their pocket. It’s a little bit beaten up after being squashed in the hug, but it makes Eddie’s heart feel tight anyway.

“Look, I know this hasn’t been an easy year for you. You’ve been through a lot of shit, dealing with shitheads like Carver and Hagan, and that you didn’t graduate, but… But I wanted to make the end a good memory, you know? Eat junk food, dress fancy for once in our lives, pretend that we’re the protagonists for once, you know?”

They take a deep breath, eyes locked on the little flower on their hand. It’s impossible to lift their head and finally gaze into the eyes of their best friend. The love of their life.

Bah, call 'em dramatic. They're already way too deep into this cheesy bullshit to care.

“So. Eddie. Eds. Angel. Would… You, maybe… Like to… Gotopromwithme??”

Well that was smooth.

Still, it doesn’t seem like he cares about their awkward stumbling.

Instead, he just pulls them into one more hug, laughing like a maniac.

“Yes! Of course I’d like to, you dumbass! You’re my best friend!”

And those words make their heart races and breaks, all at once.

They let the little blue flower fall to the ground, unbothered by the numbness on their fingertips.

“I know. You’re my best friend too, Eds.”

Eddie shakes his head, locks brushing against his nose at the intensity. This is a crisis for another time.

“I know, believe me. But I’m telling the truth! I don’t care about Chrissy, I legitimately want them to be my date!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, feeling the genuine longing in Eddie’s tone. It’s a surprising match to his siblings, every time they talks about Eddie. That lingering bitter-sweetness in the end of the sentence, the longing in each and every word. He’s heard them rant and ramble, on and on, about the metal-head more time than Dustin feels like counting, he knows that tone. It’s a perfect match.

So, he sighs, leaning his head back against the library’s chair to the point his cap almost falls off.

“Fine, I’ll help.”

“Yes!”

“SHHHHH!”

…

Today was… Weird.

Maybe it was the way the sun was beating down my face, too hot for a spring day, maybe it was the fact that the 7-11 I passed by didn’t have my favorite slushy flavor, but something just seemed… A little off today. Like someone just tilted the world a little bit to the left.

I take a long drag from the cigarette between my lips, watching the shining sun from my spot by my car. Sitting beside me is none other than Billy Hargrove, the same glare up at the sky as mine.

It’s always funny hanging out with Billy by the school’s grounds. We used to beat each other up in this same parking lot, about two years ago! And now look at us, sharing a can of coke beneath the spring sky like two dads waiting for their kids after football practice.

“I can hear your brain about to cook up some weird shit to say, Henderson. Please keep it to yourself.”

I don’t even blink at his harsh tone, putting a sugary sweet expression and leaning to lay my head on his shoulder.

“Awn, I know you love my commentary.”

He’s quick to brush me off, with not nearly as much strength as he used to a few years ago.

“I’d rather hear the screams of children.”

All I can do is snort, laughing slightly before taking a sip of the can between us.

Billy is one of the only people acting somewhat normal today, same snarky responses that once made me lunge for his throat and same pissed off frown.

He’s also one of the few people I trust the most, funnily enough. What can I say, he’s seen the worst in me and somehow still sticks around- probably because I’ve seen the worst in him too, but still. Maybe that trust is what made me press the halfway burnt cigarette into the ground and turn to look back at him.

“Hey, dude?”

“Hm.”

“Is it just me or is everyone kinda off today?”

And to my surprise, he doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he raised his own cigarette to his lips, taking a long and deep drag.

“Nope, just you.”

“Pfft, weird, something tells me your lying?”

“Something? What, like voices in your head? Damn, I knew you were crazy, Henderson, but this is new ground.”

“Billy.”

“… Hmph.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, sunglasses tilting down just enough to see the look he sends me. I shake my head and he relaxes. There’s a small pause after that. He flicks the cigarette ash off, before glancing to me again.

“Look, it’s nothing you have to worry about, ok?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his words, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Last time you said that, you were possessed by a god damned spider monster thing.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m not. So chill out.”

Isn’t he sweet?

I chew on the inside of my cheek, breathing in slowly before letting out a long long sigh.

“Fine.” A pause. But then I turn to look at him again, with the most serious expression I can. “But if you are possessed again-”

“Fuck off.”

“Pfft-”

The loud ringing of the school bell quickly brings our attention back to the front doors of Hawkins High. Like clockwork, they open and the sea of teenagers roll out, flooding the parking lot. My eyes drift between faces, looking for any sign of my favorite club, but the first thing I catch is a familiar cap and a mess of red hair.

Dustin immediately runs up to me, his cap hitting me on his attempt at a dive hug. Max is not so far from him, but instead of the affection attack she just flips Billy the bird… which he quickly reciprocates, smirking.

The two types of siblings.

“Hey, Junior.” The sarcastic and rougher edge to my voice quickly melts off, turning to the normally sweeter and more relaxed tone reserved only for my little brother. Dustin immediately turns to me, smiling like he always does- but, of course, there’s something off.

“Hello there, older sibling figure.”

… ok.

I just let out a chuckle, a little weirded out. See? It can’t be just me, everyone’s acting all skittish for some reason. Did I miss the memo?

Max pushes Dustin’s cap over his eyes before he has the chance open his mouth again, her eyes literally screaming for him to shut up. Then, she turns to me.

“If he hurts you, tell me. I’ll kick his ass.”

“… What???”

The hell’s going on?

Dustin clears his throat, pushing his hat back and sending Max a half hearted glare.

“As I was about to say- Eddie told me to give you this.”

From the depths of his many pockets, he pulls a… letter? A note, better said, scribbled in a chicken scratch of a writing I know way too well.

Before I can open it, he quickly pulls me so I look at him again.

“I’m gonna catch a ride with Max today I’ll see you later ok bye-”

And he practically drags Max to Billy’s car… which she weirdly let’s him do. I look back at the blonde next to me… and he doesn’t even blink at the interaction, stepping on the rests of his cigarette before turning away from me without a word.

What…. the hell.

As the familiar camaro drives off the parking lot, leaving me to my lonesome by my truck, I glance down at the note in my hands. Crumpled notebook paper, with the little bits used to wrap around the spiral still attached, and that familiar handwriting.

After a huff of amusement, I open up the letter.

“Greetings, dear adventurer! It is I, Eddie the Pardoned (we really need to workshop that title).

This is your formal request to join in on an adventure through the ever changing land of Hawkins High school. Walk across the mighty and dangerous hallways where jocks once slammed our faces into lockers, or traverse into the terrifying lands we call the gym showers!

Follow the riddles and clues, and if you’re lucky, the gates of a whole new adventure shall open to those with brave and worthy hearts.

Good luck.”

“Dramatic dork.” I mumble beneath my breath, but the smile on my lips can only be described as disgustingly smitten.

I look over the note again, flipping it between my fingers. Surely enough, more writing in the back.

“Those who trail my path are the best liars, but also the most emotional of artists. The many nights you’ve spent between my walls, you were never quite yourself. Oh, wow, he really wasn’t kidding on making riddles, huh?”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle, raising my eyes from the paper in my hands and looking around the parking lot. There’s a lot of people walking around right now, most speeding to get home after a long long Friday, but my eyes don’t catch a single hint of anyone using the familiar Hellfire shirt. Which is definitely weird, they’re normally the first ones to leave the school. Still, no sign of Jeff, or Bryan, or Gareth, much less Ed.

I look back down to the riddle.

“The many nights you’ve spent between my walls” So it’s a place, then? One I’ve been before, if Eddie isn’t being a little shit and using “you” because he thinks it sounds better.

“Those who trail my path are the greatest liars, but most emotional of artists.” Greatest liars? And most emotional of artists. Well, if it’s a place, related to art, then the art room? But then why the lying?

“You weren’t quite yourself.” Wasn’t… quite myself. Hm.

A place, probably one at school since I doubt he would’ve gone so extra as to go around the entire city, related to art and lying. “Wasn’t quite yourself.”

…

Wait, the drama club?

Art of lying- could he mean acting? A room related to acting in which I’ve been to before.

The drama club, at D&D nights!

My feet are moving before my brain is, crumpled up note being carefully stuffed into my pants pockets.

…

Not far…

“The bird has taken flight, over.”

“Dustin, will you stop with the codenames?! Just- Just get into position! Over!”

…

How many damn riddles can this man write??? I must’ve collected more than twelve by now!

There’s a small collection of notes in my left hand, my pockets too filled up to stuff any more of them without damaging. My shoes squeak against the floors of the mostly empty school, echoing in my ears as I run from room to room, classroom to classroom.

I swear, If this is some sort of elaborate prank, I’m going to kick Eddie’s ass until Halloween comes.

I let out a groan leaning down to reach another, stuck beneath my– well, not mine, it hasn’t been mine since I graduated– seat at the iconic Hellfire Club lunch table. When I turn to the back, I’m surprised to see there isn’t a riddle this time, no little set of verses to greet me. So, after a small hum of interest, I fold it open.

“If you’ve reached this point of your quest, fair knight, I’m proud to tell you your prize awaits you! (Because I’m not like SOME people who do FAKE OUTS THREE TIMES IN A ROLL)

All that’s left is for you to come and get it. Your king awaits in our usual spot.”

-E.M.

“Pfft– my king?” I can barely pay attention to the soft laugh that leaves my lips, chest too warm and filled with cotton to notice. Dork.

Still, I just set the note with the rest, walking to the nearest exit with a smile on my lips.

I’m still have no idea what Eddie is planning with all of this. Despite the dozen plus notes, he hasn’t gave me a single of hint for the reason of this scavenger… Hunt.

…wait.

I mean, it’s not– it’s not possible, right?

He was talking about inviting Chrissy less than a week ago!

Nah, nah, yeah, it’s not… He wouldn’t. Not me, anyway.

…

Well I just made myself sad.

A groan leaves my lips as I shake my head, hair flowing around with the motion before bouncing and stopping, strands sticking to my eyelashes. Enough with the self pity. I’m better than this. Whatever it is that Eddie has planned to me is going to be awesome.

The hallways echoes with my steps, the sound of my combat boots squeaking in the shiny tile flooring being the only sound as I leave the school. It’s late afternoon at this point, the sun starting to set as everything is painted golden. The walk through the woods is longer than I remember, the late spring wind ruffling through my clothes. After a while, I’m reaching the clearing…

And there’s no one here…?

“Eddie?” I spin in place, looking in between the trees for any sign of the silhouette I know better than my own. It’s quiet here, with the exception of the singing birds and early crickets. I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my brows twitch in worry. “Did I take too long…?”

When I pull them back, one of them holds the last hint. It’s impossible to be anywhere else– he literally said our usual spot, and this is it, isn’t it? Unless my first suspicion was right, and he really meant to spread these around the town– wait, no, then why would he set them up around school? What am I m–

“BOO– OW!”

“EDDIE?!”

My knuckles sting, heart beating louder than a drum as I stare at my fallen best friend, cradling his own face. Immediately I reach for him, falling to my knees by his side.

“Jesus Christ, Munson, you scared the shit out of me! I’m so sorry– Oh, god dammit, sweetheart, c’mere, c'mere… Let me see…” I gently tug his hands from his face, touches practically feather light and with as much care as I can channel. He laughs all the while, completely unbothered by the forming bruise on his cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson– You pack quite the punch! Holy crap, I think you dislocated my jaw–”

“Stop saying shit like that, you’ll manifest it.” I chuckle under my breath (but do check his jaw, making sure everything is in place and I didn’t punch one of his teeth in.). “Why the hell you sneaked up on me like that? What thought process made you think that was a good idea??”

“I don’t know!” He laughs, falling limp on the grass while looking up at me. His smile is almost dopey, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he said he just got baked. He doesn’t smell like weed, tho. Just smoke and cologne, the one that makes me wish I could bury my nose into his neck and just live there. “I thought it’d be a good idea? All I needed to do was distract you for a little while!”

“Distract me?” I snort, brows tilting in a playful frown. “From what?”

“Shit–” And at the sound of my brother’s cursing, I lift my eyes from my best friend’s face.

What do I find if not the rest of the Hellfire club, haphazardly stacked on each other’s shoulders putting up a huge banner on the branches of the nearest threes. Jeff has Mike on his shoulders, while Bryan has Justin– and Lucas and Gareth watch a few steps away, clearly trying to not bring attention to themselves as I turn to them.

“Michael, if you ruin my jacket with your dirty ass shoes–”

“I’m trying not to! Stop moving!”

“Guys! Guys, I’m gonna fall! BRYAN–”

“You’re not gonna fall, Dustbin– stop being a pussy and just tie the goddamn thing.”

“What the hell…?” I mumble, even more confused than when I found the kids sneaking Eleven into Mike’s basement.

Eddie doesn’t answer me with anything but a cackle, getting up to his feet and jogging up to the rest of the club. His grin is so wide his dimples are lost between smile lines, brown eyes shining in the late afternoon sun that warms my skin and cheeks. He skids to a stop under the banner, not even waiting to check if it’s tied up properly before tugging the bottom and unrolling it.

‘COME DITCH PROM WITH THIS FREAK?’

And the arrows badly painted on the bottom point directly at him, that turns around to beam my way with his smile brighter than the sun.

…

I don’t know if the guys have fallen silent or if I just gone deaf, but I don’t have the mental power to look. It’s like the whole world turned… quiet.

My heart can’t seem to choose between skipping beats or skidding to stop. I can feel my skin tingling, my knuckles going from stinging to burning. As does the back of my neck and the bottom of my gut.

I read the words, over and over again, shocked…

“Is this…” My tongue feels like it’s knotted, tied and shipped to the other side of the country. No words could ever describe– whatever the hell I’m feeling right now. “Are you… Is– Are you for real??”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, the warm orange lighting almost making it look like his cheeks are dyed a soft red. His smile is confident, almost cocky and playful as he looks down at me. “As real as a I can be.”

My mouth feels drier than a desert, and I swallow harshly. I can’t turn my eyes from him, like I’m transfixed… which, in someways, I am.

He has hypnotized me, a puppet on his strings.

I feel starstruck.

Eddie takes my silent as a go ahead, because after standing under the banner for a second, he slowly walks to me again. For some reason, I don’t even think to get back on my feet until he’s almost right in front of me, his head obscuring the sun as if he’s the only star I need.

“Henderson,” He says, the smirk on his lips almost sheepish. “I’ve got to apologize. I’ve been… kind of a shit best friend for the last couple years. You’ve been my paladin, my white knight, the voice of reason when I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t even thank you properly.”

He extends his hand, the black stone in his ring finger catching the sunlight from his smile.

“So let me make it up to you… Will you let me take you with me to not-prom?”

My throat closes up, my eyes sting, but my smile is as bright as the moon.

“Yeah, I will.”

And I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

taglist! @eddiesgirlforever @plk-18 thx for the support and the patience!! :D