#that was super uncool of her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-cat-and-the-birdie · 1 year ago

Text

Hobie Brown, Emotional Preparation, and the Art of Great Dialogue

Nearly all of Hobie's dialogue is written with his goal - protecting and preparing Miles for Miguel's abuse - in mind, even if it may not be obvious at first watch.

Here's an unhinged breakdown where I over-analyze literally every one of Hobie’s lines and explain how every sentence was written to contribute directly to Miles’ radicalization.

Hollywood. Pay your writers. (:

___________________________________________________

Hobie has around 10 minutes screentime total, but for the sake of introductions and this analysis, let's start at the end of the battle, and the beginning of the quantum hole.

Starting with his first line in the scene:

"I don't follow orders. Neither does he."

All morals considered, Hobie doesn't seem like the type to speak for someone who can speak for themselves - he's a punk after all. But here, he speaks for Miles. This line serves to tell Miles 'I don't respect them, why should you?', but funnily enough, it can also be a point to Jess, as if to say 'Miles isn't interested.' - even if he is.

"Bit much, innit?"

While, Hobie and Mile's next interaction is their exchange in the elevator, the scene leads to Mile's introduction to the Society. Miles gawks at the lobby, obviously impressed. Gwen affirms this awe, telling him 'this is just the lobby.' However, Hobie feels the need to chime in. His next dialogue 'Bit much, innit?' is a subtle nudge to Miles that the society is not a place to be in awe off. It's a spectacle, one that's a bit overdone. Knowing Miles now sees Hobie as cool, Hobie makes it known - he sees the Society as uncool.

"Gwendy, How much have you told him? About his place in all this? Maybe not enough."

'So what happened about that small elite strike-team?' - 'Most of these are part time.' This is by far one of Hobie's more interesting lines, and I wrote about it here. But in short, this is Hobie's soft but direct confrontation of Gwen. After Gwen lies to Miles in front of him, Hobie immediately asks how much Gwen has revealed to him. And when she tries to play it off, he openly says 'Maybe that's not enough.' He's not angry with Gwen, but he is disappointed, which in turn motivates him to have his discussion with Miles.

"Super humane, and not creepy."

One of my favorites, because it's hard to catch and to the point. After talking about Hobie and Gwen's mission history, they're taken to Margo and the control room. As Miles marvels at Margo and the Go-Home-Machine, and Gwen says she voted against it. However, Hobie says blatantly: 'Holy shit, Miles isn't this inhumane and weird???', validating that the Society is willing to do inhumane, hurtful stuff to those it deems 'misplaced'.

Next comes Hobie's confrontation with Miles.

Because Hobie knows this is his last movements with Miles before he meets Miguel, and this is where if final push of emotional support kicks in, before he goes quiet in front of Miguel.

And because this conversation is so well layered, I think it's best to go line by line. ______________________________

H: "Bet this doesn't even do anything." M: "Maybe it did before you ripped it out of a wall!"

Hobie has now confirmed that he'll be making an exit soon. And he begins his finally sweep of parts he needs for his watch, stocking up his pockets. He's not stealing to steal. He knows he's leaving and this is his last chance to get what he needs before he's out the door.

"Propaganda, bro! It's to distract you from the truth!"

HOLY SHIT I missed this one. Notice how in this shot, Gwen is not visible at all. Hobie notices they're out of hershot of her for the first time. And his first line is - 'Propaganda.' Their watches can take them anywhere. When Gwen needed to, she was taken to exactly where she needed in Mumbattan. But when they're heading towards HQ, Jessica makes them walk through the lobby. They could have been sent directly to Miguel's station, but instead she makes them do the whole tour, which serves as a flex of muscle. In order, Miles was shown the massive number of members in the Society, then their prisoners, then the go-home-machine. Only THEN can they see Miguel. All of which was intent to intimidate Miles on purpose. Hobie tells him directly: 'Everything you just saw was propaganda.'

M: And what's that?

"I ain't got a Scooby Doo, mate. Cause that's what they want."

One of the most iconic and notable of his quotes. Cockney aside, this line ties back in with his discussion with Gwen just a couple minutes before. They've done their tour and walk. Both Jess and Gwen have been given a chance to prime or explain to Miles anything, and both have chosen not to. So Hobie simply tells him, 'They want you in the dark. And they're sending you into a fight.'

The next line is:

H: Why do you want to be part of this lot? M: To get a watch. H: Make your own watch.

Miles sucks his teeth at Hobie.

Because of this - Hobie begins to change methods. Which I cannot stress is incredibly perceptive of him.

Miles is exasperated with him. So instead of dissuasion and making the society out to be uncool, he tries to turn Miles' attention towards his family.

"Bet you got a nice setup, huh? Nice parents?"

This line is a very well done one, with two things of notice. First, I find it interesting that the screenplay phrases this line as a question, not a sentence. Hobie is asking. He's taking a shot in the dark here. And this is backed up by his delivery; Hobie hesitates while saying this. The only line in which he does so. He may not know about Miles' mom and dad, because Gwen hadn't met them when she met Hobie. But still, Hobie asks, hoping the reminder of Miles' parents will dissuade him from continuing.

M: They're fine. H: [After this line, Hobie turns black and white momentarily. Potentially a nod to the fact that this conversation is the only 'black and white' one Miles has had so far.] M: But we got into a fight. They just want what's best for me, so...

[Hobie frowns. The scene and dialogue REALLY starts to pick-up from here.]

"That's a bloody shame. Because you're not ready for everyone else."

As the scene progresses Hobie goes from behind Miles, to beside him like an ally. Then, when Gwen finally comes back into frame, Hobie crosses in front of him. When Miles mentions his parents wanting what's best for him, Hobie warns that everyone else does not want what's best for him. At the same time, visually Gwen has her back to Miles, and Hobie puts himself between Miles and Gwen, trying to block his path. The scene is set up to show that in Hobie's eyes, Gwen is turning her back on Miles. She does not have his best interest in mind. Hobie is telling Miles 'They're using propaganda on you, they're keeping you in the dark, and they do not have your best interest at mind. You're not ready for this." And he physically tries to block Miles from continuing, one last time.

Miles goes through Hobie, and now within earshot of Gwen again, this is Hobie's final chance and push to get as much information into Miles as he can - without freaking Miles out. Above all else, he needs Miles to be prepared, confident, and willing to fight back.

His voice becomes more serious, and he starts speaking more straight-forward and a lot less cryptically.

"Listen to me, bruv. The whole point of being Spider-man is your independence. Being your own boss, you don't need all this!"

I think Hobie saying this reveals a lot about his character, especially understanding the context where he's from. While many Spider-men would agree that being Spider-man is about responsibility and power - to Hobie, it is about independence, and freedom. Hobie is a freedom fighter, and one of the only Spider-men besides Noir that knows how to fight systemic threats as well as physical ones. To him, being Spiderman is about being able to free yourself and others. It's about independence and freedom, and he's trying to nail that in Miles' head one last time.

M: Then why are you here?

"Looking out for my drummer, is all."

As the scene is coming to a close, the writers chose this time to reveal some of Hobie's motivations, starting with the independence comment, and now this. Despite knowing about Gwen's deception towards Miles, he is still looking out for her - and Miles. This is the writers' and Hobie's last push to solidify himself as an ally to Miles and the viewer.

M: I want to be in a band. I want to see my friends, and I need a watch to do that. G: Guys, come on.

"Alright, Squashed. Just don't enlist until you know about who you're fighting."

I genuinely had to sit and ask myself why the writers would choose to leave Hobie's collective effort - a LOT of effort - with this line. And honestly, I think it's a perfect segway. Hobie chooses his words very clearly; He doesn't say 'what', he says 'who'. The next scene leads into Miguel's intro, and up until this point, Miles doesn't know who he is. He only knows about the Society, but never who is at the top. We know about Miguel, but all Miles knows is his name. That's why Hobie says 'who you're fighting'. Because the Society isn't really a Society, and this isn't really between Miles and the Society at all. It's a dictatorship - and the person he's enlisting to fight is Miguel. The perfect introduction and warning to the person he's about to meet. He's telling Miles, 'Don't rush into it. Wait until you meet Miguel first'. And when Miles does meet Miguel, he finally sees that this isn't the place he thought it was, just like Hobie said. ALSO EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY - THIS is one of the lines that is changed between the two versions of spiderverse (there are two theatrical versions on release.) In the alternative he says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting.' And I think that the fact the writers chose to publish two different versions of this line goes to show how powerful they knew this line would be in Miles' characterization. There is so much Hobie has left to say to him, but only one line - and so we get two versions. How fun!

With the scene now over, we see a change in Hobie's demeanor, and I love the writers' choice to have the shot linger on Hobie.

We see him give Miles a look that isn't exactly full of confidence, but from this point forward, Hobie chooses to hang back, no longer having any motivation to instigate. He knows his work here is done, and now all he can really do is wait for Miguel to reveal his true colors, and hope that he got through enough to Miles that he will react, and fight back.

And closing out the scene - I noticed that when Peter B. arrives Hobie pointedly says

"Oh boy, Humbling Reality Spider-man has arrived."

All I'll say about this is Hobie has to be Jamaican cause that was so mfing rude shgjfkghjgjkdfjk

Hobie has about three lines between this point and then end of his screentime - Two of which were his lines to Mayday, and his comment during the canon events.

But there is one shot of him before it all happens. And after this shot the movie begins staging Hobie in specific a very different way than anyone else.

The moment begins with Miles' line 'My Dad is about to be captain.'

The camera pans to each character. Gwen, Peter, and Jess all avert their eyes. Miguel looks at Miles. And Hobie is the only one who looks at all of them. Instead of looking down, he looks to the others, in anticipation of whats going to happen. It's also important to note that this was probably news to Hobie. He probably didn't know Miles' dad was a cop - or at the very least going to be captain. So the understanding of just how much trouble Miles is in kinda multiplies in this moment.

Then, this happens

From this point forward, every time Hobie is portrayed, he is shown as separate from the other characters, always being divided from the group - with Miles as the divider. Even as the camera moves, Hobie visually remains - quite literally - as the only person in Miles' corner. And as the scene goes on, he moves farther and farther into that corner.

Until finally the scene comes to a climax, and Hobie gets two shots to himself - delivering his final lines.

"Here we go." - "Hobie, You're not helping." - "Good."

GUYS IM GONNA CRY OKAY IM GONNA CRY

This is Hobie seeing his work pay off. This is him knowing that he got through to Miles and that it was worth it. He's proud of him.

Hobie knew what he came to do, and he used literally every line he said to Miles to the FULLEST extent. He doesn't give a fuck if he's not helping the Society. He's helping Miles. And now he knows his work is done.

Being a punk is not about being a hero, it's about empowering those who feel powerless. HE UNDERSTOOD THE MOTHERFUCKING ASSIGNMENT.

IN SHORT - HOLLYWOOD PAY YOUR FUCKING WRITERS I SWEAR TO GOD.

if you read this far let me know :) thanks bye

#ill repost the ending as its own post as well yay #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #miles morales #gwen stacy #jessica drew #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv analysis #across the spiderverse #spidergwen #spiderwoman #peter parker #peter b parker

3K notes · View notes

achromatophoric · 11 days ago

Text

Enid: Hey Div, where’s Yoko? I haven’t seen her all day.

Divina: She had an accident and got stuck as a bat. Your girlfriend’s helping track her down.

Enid: Whuh? Why does she need to be tracked down?

Divina: Yoko’s like—super self-conscious about her bat form. She’s thinks it’s totally uncool and is worried it’ll ruin her ‘mysterious and sexy’ vampire allure.

Enid: Whaaaa?! But how can a bat form be uncool? Turning into a bat is like the epitome of coolness!

Divina: Well—

Wednesday: *from behind* I have the bat.

Enid and Divina startle in surprise before spinning around to face Wednesday and her sulking captive.

Enid: Hiya babe! Where’s YokOHMYGOSH!

Divina: *sheepish* And now you know.

Wednesday: *examines her captive* Fascinating. Tanaka turns into a male hammer-headed bat, known for honking loudly to attract females. How appropriate.

Enid/Divina: 🫢😅

Yoko: *sad honk*

#hammer-headed bat #vampires #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #divina wednesday #yoko tanaka #wenclair #incorrect wenclair #wednesday netflix #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect quotes #bianca barclay

289 notes · View notes

cptindanvers · 4 months ago

Note

request for band robin & her popular cheer gf please and just everyone being shook as hell the both of them are together 🥺

"No, Steve, I am telling you-" Robin sighs, hands waving around exasperatedly. "She is not into girls!"

"Well, I don't think we should rule it out completely!" Steve says, leaning against the Family Video counter. "I mean, how can you really be sure?"

"Steve," Robin scoffs. "I'm pretty sure a girl like her looks at not just guys, but guys like you."

"Pssh. If she liked guys like me, she would've said yes when I asked her out."

Robin stops her shelving of a few tapes. "You did what?"

"Yeah, I asked her out," Steve shrugs, arms crossed. "Like, two years ago or something."

"And you're just bringing this up now?"

"Well, I didn't think it was important," Steve says innocently. "But she was totally not into me. Like, at all."

"And you think that, just because she rejected you, she automatically likes girls?"

"What? No!" Steve sighs, dropping a stack of tapes on the counter. "No, that's not what I'm saying, I'm just saying... she rejected a lot of guys that asked her out! And trust me, many tried."

"Well, yeah, because she's way too good for any of you schmucks!" Robin rolls her eyes, rolling the now-empty cart behind the counter.

"Well, have you tried talking to her? I mean, outside of her asking you what day it is."

Robin snorts. "As if she'd have anything to say to me."

It's Steve's turn to roll his eyes. "C'mon. Talk to her. Once she realizes how awesome you are... well, you can see where it goes from there!"

Robin groans, dropping her head onto the counter. "This is hopeless."

Robin does manage to talk to you - eventually.

It helps that your seats are in the back corner of the class - and that you've forgotten your textbook.

"Hey," you whisper, a little embarrassed. "Do you mind if we share?" You motion to the large history book laid flat on Robin's desk. "I forgot mine..."

Robin's quiet, a little shell-shocked that you're speaking to her. I mean, actually speaking!

"Oh, um, yeah!" Robin nods, scooting herself, desk and all, over.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," you smile a sweet smile and scooch over.

You're radiating, shiny lips stretched into a small smile as your eyes glance up from the board to the textbook. You and Robin reach to turn the page at the same time, quickly pulling away and laughing as your hands touch.

Your attention falls back down as Mr. Jem directs you to an assignment, taking his seat at his desk while quiet chatter spreads throughout the classroom.

"So, pep rally on Friday, huh?" Robin manages to choke out, a short and awkward laugh following.

"Oh, yeah. Are you ready for it?" You ask politely, eyes swapping from your notebook to Robin.

"Oh, yeah!" Robin laughs, a pretty pink dusting her cheeks. "Yeah, um, I'm actually in band, so-"

"Yeah, I know!" You laugh lightly but it's nowhere near mocking. It's sweet. "You play the, um, the horn thing?"

"Trumpet," Robin corrects. "But I do know how to play a French horn. It's very easy to get them confused really, they're similar in color and... sound sometimes. But um, that's not important."

"I think it's cool! I mean, I'm sure it's not easy to learn."

"Oh, I don't know, I've been playing instruments since I was like, super young," Robin laughs again, wishing she could shut her stupid mouth. "Yeah."

"Cool," you smile again, turning back to your work - back to silence.

God, Robin was so uncool! Of course you didn't care about her instrumental history. Just because you were a cheerleader didn't mean you cared about the ins and outs of the band kids.

And yet - a piece of Robin's mind was stuck on the fact that you knew her. Sure, you did pep rallies together where Robin was so clearly decked out in her band uniform but previously, Robin had assumed that her existance had no weight in your life outside of this classroom - hell, Robin was convinced she didn't exist to you outside of the two conversations you've had.

So, perhaps the fact that you knew Robin was in band was groundbreaking - to her and to Steve.

"Okay, she's definitely gotta have a thing for you or something," Steve insists. "I promise you Robin, none of us think anything related to band is cool."

"She was totally clueless! She thought a trumpet was called a horn!" Robin sighs dreamily. "She said it was cool. Twice."

"Yeah, she's a liar," Steve nods. "Did you compliment her cheering?"

Robin's smile drops. "Shit."

"So - I just wanna get this straight - you finally talk to this girl, rant about instruments the entire time, and? That's it? No, I can't wait to see your routine this Friday! or Cheer is cool!"

If looks could kill, Steve would be six feet under. No, make it twelve.

Steve bites back a laugh, clapping a hand on Robin's shoulder. "You'll get her next time, champ. This is good! Good progress."

Robin rolls her eyes, shrugging Steve off and mumbling something about lost data on a whiteboard.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things

288 notes · View notes

weirwoodsugar · 2 years ago

Text

lil jon things i am obsessed with/think are hilarious in the order they occurred to me at 3 am

-spends the first book telling anyone who will listen that he’s Not Afraid To Die and then a wight shoves its whole hand down his throat and he’s like wow that was actually extremely scary and never says that shit again

-always got little Things he says to himself but they’re all awful. very bad affirmation game no wonder morale is low

-“did lord eddard father you on a fish wife”

-the doubts that plague me can’t catch me if i just keep making Decisions!!! let’s hear it for Decisions!!!!

-arguably contender for top woman respecter but batting absolute zero at successfully comforting crying women. unless you consider “making her mad at you instead of upset” a success

-i’m not a wolf! i’m not a wolf!! i’m not a wolf!!! while warging like almost constantly with zero control. babe i don’t think your affirmations are working you’re experiencing non consensual smells at an alarming rate

-i wish mormont was my dad wait no i wish benjen was my dad wait no i wish qhorin was my dad wait no i wish donal noye was my dad. will someone be my dad please i just keep making decisions

-constantly having Agonies over ethical decision making while the rest of the continent hasn’t even really invented the concept of ethics yet? on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to his constant Agonies

-related: love is the death of duty but having strong ethical convictions/clear moral vision is also kind of the death of duty oops! aemon didn’t warn you about that one!

-stannis wants to davosify this kid mega bad

-“jon felt like he was fifteen again” (said when he’s literally sixteen)

-has a terrible violence in his heart but it’s kind of the least of his problems tbh. like yeah my fire and blood levels are a little elevated but i’ve got paperwork i need to take care of

-RUNNING DOWN THE TABLE AT YOU WITH A KNIFE!!!!!

-last of the giants fixation. god he’s gonna be so mad when he comes back and wun wun is dead. this one isn’t hilarious it’s deeply moving and endearing

-an eagle almost rips his eye out and he’s like well i guess i have no choice but to have sex with ygritte at least one dozen times. it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it

-just a crazy amount of anime main character pre-loaded swag (bastard of winterfell skin changer with an albino direwolf and a cool sword which he can really SWANG and cool facial scars etc etc) and is actively working against it. rolled super high on charisma and is trying to balance it out by being as much of a boring fuddy duddy as he possibly can. the devil works hard (at making me cool) but i work harder (at being very uncool). it is an honorable thing to be swagless by choice…….

-pretty sure he actively enjoys saying no to people. just for love of the game (the game is being disagreeable). very capricorn coded. likely brushes his teeth in the shower.

-REMEMBER WE KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP 😈

#valyrianscrolls #jon snow #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

3K notes · View notes

gemini-sensei · 5 months ago

Note

Popular!Reader who is new to the school and is lowkey obsessed with either nerdy Eli or Miyagi Demetri and Yasmine DESPISES it but she can't leave Reader because... idk maybe she's related to one of them or something 😭

Eli or Dem is convinced its a joke of some kind and says something awful (against Miguels begging to consider that Reader might just like nerds) and omg sorry I love angst ♡

I love angst too, no worries.

Reader being Yasmine's cousin who moves to town and starts obsessing/crushing on a nerd would irk Yasmine to no end. Every time she catches Reader staring at the boys, she would say something along the lines of "omg I can't believe you, they're so uncool" and "get a grip, there are so much better guys around here." But Reader won't listen. She's sure she's found the best guy in the Valley no matter what her cousin says.

When she approaches shy!Eli and starts chatting him up, he has no idea what to do. He barely says a word and lets her do all the talking. He just stands there and listens because how is this happening right now? Is this really happening? He's not dreaming, is he?

She'll even sit with him in classes they have together, working with him every chance she gets. It's super cute. But when it comes to lunch, she sits with Yasmine and her friends. They're constantly talking and laughing, mostly because Yasmine finds it fun to laugh at people but Reader isn't so sure about the things she's saying about them. Yasmine just tuts and tells her, "You'll learn the rules of this school eventually."

Eli convinces himself that Reader isn't actually into him. He can't stand the idea that she's faking nice to him, it's somehow worse than the outright bullying he's faced all his life. While talking to his friends about it, Miguel tries to tell him that he's overthinking it because Reader seems so genuine and nice, but Demetri is there to counter every point he has, his biggest argument being "She's friends with Yasmine, the pretty, popular Queen of Mean." It doesn't help Eli with thinking Reader is actually nice and really into him.

So, thinking she's trying to make some kind of joke out of him, he thinks he should say something to her. He'd rather be shoved into a locker and called names as opposed to someone pretending to like him just to get a few laughs out of her friends.

The next time he sees her, she's a little flirty with a big smile on her face. He can't deny she's beautiful, but unlike Demetri, that isn't enough for Eli. He can't take this anymore.

She smiles at him so pretty and starts talking. "Hey, Eli! So, I was thinking about how the science fair is coming up. Since Mr. Palmer said we could get extra credit if we enter, I was hoping you could help me with my project. Just you and me-"

"L-look, just leave me alone!" he cuts her off.

The outburst is surprising to both of them. He can't believe he actually stood up to her while she's shocked by what he said. Was she being annoying? Was she bothering him? Had she completely misunderstood where they stood with each other?

She asked softly, "What?"

"I said, leave me alone," he told her, not the least bit more confident, just tired of her games. "I-I don't want to hang out with you, and I don't want to do your project f-for you. Figure it out for yourself and don't talk to me again. So you can stop a-acting nice because I know y-you're really just a bitch."

She stares at him, completely devastated. She blinks back a few tears but Eli doesn't see them because he has his head down, sure that he has a berating coming his way. But instead, Reader just says, "Okay, fine" and walks away.

She ends up crying in the bathroom not understanding what she did wrong, unaware that she didn't do anything wrong. Her makeup runs down her cheeks as she tries to calm down, missing class because she can't. Eventually, Yasmine and Moon start texting her about where she is and if she's okay, why is she missing class (because that's not like her) and what's going on? She can't even hold her phone without shaking and needing to just belt out a cry because why would Eli say something like that? Was she that overbearing and annoying to him?

By the time Yasmine and Moon find her, she's quietly sniffling into her hands because she's so confused and hurt. She asks them to take her home and they skip the rest of the school day. They ask her what happened and she tells them how she was trying to subtly get some alone time with Eli, all for him to tell her to essentially fuck off and not bother him anymore. All Yasmine and Moon hear is that he hurt her feelings and called her a bitch, and they're upset about it.

Yasmine begins saying she knew little creepy nerds like Eli are nothing but jerks and idiots. She goes on and on about it until Moon puts a hand on her arm and says something about how that isn't really helping, fresh tears streaking Reader's face as they buy ice cream and cookies to help her feel better. They end up back home where they do everything they can to make Reader forget about what Eli said with movies, but whenever it gets quiet, his words replay in her head. She's constantly trying to figure out what she did wrong, where she misstepped or misunderstood things. She starts rereading her interactions with Eli as her being overbearing with her flirting and annoying talking to him when he obviously didn't want her to because he never said anything in return.

Of course he was annoyed with me. I was too much all of the time, she thinks to herself, crying softly.

Moon hugs her and lets her cry into her shirt, trying to soothe her by rubbing her back and letting her let it out. She looks at Yasmine sadly, unsure of what else to do because this has never happened to them before. What should they do?

Yasmine is pissed. This is her cousin. Sure, she was annoyed with the way she flirted with the nerdy boy and talked about how cute he was all the time, but now that boy had crossed a line. He'd hurt by far the sweetest of her friends.

Naturally, he had to pay.

199 notes · View notes

rubycruzin4abruzin · 6 months ago

Text

I hate you, too

Summary: Ruby is your acting rival as well as your sworn enemy. When you’re cast in the same movie, you struggle with the fight choreography, an area which your co-star excels at. What will you do when you have no choice but to swallow your pride and ask her for extra help?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, some adult humor, kissing, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, walked in on while changing, non-sexual knife play, clumsy!reader, publicity tweets, there was only One Trailer

Word Count: 6.6k (told you it’s a slow burn)

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction, RPF Guidelines still stand. Morally, I refuse to write smut for Ruby Cruz. That being said, I miss writing smut!! Dying to write some Kit Tanthalos smut after this, if anyone has a request feel free to send it in. That being said, Ruby is always super fun to write for, and I hope y’all enjoy! :)

———

If you never saw Ruby Cruz again, it would be too soon.

You first encountered her shortly after moving to Los Angeles to pursue acting. During a meeting with your agent to discuss a contract, she entered unannounced, as if the office belonged to her.

“Hey Estelle, I’m here to pick up the ‘Mare of Easttown’ audition sides,” she stated, barely glancing in your direction.

Estelle handed her a stack of papers before introducing you. “This is Ruby Cruz, one of my regular clients. You two will likely be seeing a lot of each other.”

Ruby finally turned toward you, assessing you with her bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. She gave you a curt smile, and offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Estelle’s the best; you’re gonna love her.”

You shook her hand as Estelle chuckled at the flattery, shaking her head and modestly dismissing it.

“Ruby has an audition next week for that ‘Mare of Easttown’ show… which reminds me! I think you could also be a good fit for that. We can discuss more later, but for now, let me at least get you the audition sides.”

Estelle began to gather nearby papers into a stack, stapling the corner before handing them to you. Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought of acting in a show as notable as ‘Mare of Easttown.’

Ruby hummed, clucking her tongue as you flipped through the stack of papers. Glancing up at her from your seat, you could have sworn you saw her eyes squint, almost as if she now saw you as nothing more than competition.

“In that case, hope you break a leg.”

With a wave goodbye to Estelle, she left the office. You couldn’t place it at the time, but something about her tone felt… off.

The audition came and went, and it was just your luck that Ruby ended up landing the role. Of course, it became her breakout role, one that juiced up her resume and propelled her career.

Initially, it didn’t bother you that much; after all it was just one audition. However, given that you were both conventionally attractive actresses in the same age range, Estelle frequently recommended you for the same roles. You began to see her face at every single audition, and frankly, you were sick of it.

That’s not to say you lost every role to Ruby Cruz; sure she was your competition, but you both had your share of the limelight. She was Hazel Callahan in “Bottoms,” and you were Harper McCallington in “Out & Uncool.” While she was busy filming for “Willow” as Princess Kit Tanthalos, you starred as Empress Kian Thorne in a limited series entitled “Cottonwood.”

You were a tad jealous that Ruby landed a continuing series while yours was limited, so when you found out about “Willow” being abruptly canceled after one season, you couldn’t help but revel in the schadenfreude.

Despite your individual successes, you harbored a deep dislike for Ruby. Yes, she was pretty, with pale blue eyes and dark hair that offset her ivory skin, but watching her stride into every audition wearing that all-too-familiar smug smile only fueled your resentment and made your blood boil.

Several months after moving to LA, one particular audition day commenced with a morning from hell. You woke up groggy with your hair in a rats nest, and spent the majority of the morning battling with the bathroom mirror in an attempt to render yourself presentable. Once you could actually run a comb through it, a quick glance at a clock revealed you were running late. Hastily, you grabbed your resume, poured some of your roommates' leftover coffee into a travel mug, and dashed out the door in a race against time.

Curses flew out of your mouth while you sat in the infamous LA traffic, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel while your eyes darted towards the clock.

Arriving at the audition site, you parked haphazardly and rushed to the entrance, coffee sloshing against your mug with every step. Pushing open the doors, you immediately caught sight of the very person you knew you would see but secretly wished you wouldn’t.

There was Ruby, sitting in the waiting room, too focused on studying her audition material to even notice you had walked in. She wore a white blouse with floral patterns, jeans, and white converse—an undoubtedly effortless outfit that looked so good on her, it genuinely annoyed you.

Shaking your head, you tried to push aside any thoughts of Ruby and focus on the audition. As you stepped towards the sign-in table, your notorious clumsiness struck as you mis-stepped and tripped over your own foot. Fortunately, you managed to catch yourself before face-planting, but you lost control of your mug, ending up spilling coffee all over your sworn enemy.

Ruby stood up in shock, the lukewarm liquid staining her white blouse and smudging the ink on her papers. She lifted her head, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell!” She exclaimed.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in shock. “Shit, Ruby, I’m so…”

“You did that on purpose!”

The brewing apology halted at her accusation. Indignation swelled within you, and the urge to defend yourself took over.

“Excuse me? It was an accident! Jesus!”

“You don’t think I know you don’t like me?” She spat back. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

By now, everyone else in the waiting room was watching the two of you, while the stage manager at the sign-in table desperately tried to de-escalate the situation.

You felt your face flush at the unwanted attention as you attempted to lower your voice. “Ruby, I may not be your biggest fan, but I would never do something like that on purpose.”

“Oh please, I know your type. You would do anything to land a role, even if it’s underhanded!”

“For fucks sake, Ruby!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated at this conversation. “I land roles just fine on my own. Not everything is about you!”

“You’re seriously standing here telling me that ‘not everything is about me’ when you’re the one who ruined my blouse right before an audition?!”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

You and Ruby turned your heads toward the unidentified voice to see what appeared to be the director of the project standing in the doorway. He peered down at the two of you with an icy glare, while the stage manager stood next to him with her arms crossed.

A gulp involuntarily forced its way down your throat. You looked over at Ruby, who stood frozen with all the color seemingly drained from her face. Both of you waited with baited breath for the director's next move as his nostrils flared.

“Both of you. Out. Now.”

“There’s good news, and bad news.”

You and Ruby stared at Estelle from across her desk, shame and embarrassment radiating from the both of you. Last week's altercation at the audition made headlines on LA Twitter news, prompting her to call an emergency meeting to discuss next steps.

“You already know the bad news,” Estelle sighed. “Word got out about your little ‘stunt.’ As of right now, neither of you have great reputations in the Hollywood eye.”

Estelle turned to look directly at you, making you shrink in your seat. “Not many people want to work with an actor who would sabotage another actor’s audition to get a leg-up.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but immediately closed it upon seeing the look on Estelle’s face. She looked away from you, focusing her attention on Ruby next.

“And no one wants to work with a hothead who causes scenes and goes on public cursing sprees.”

Ruby squirmed under Estelle’s scrutiny, looking down at her lap to avoid eye contact.

Estelle leaned back in her chair, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “Fortunately, there is some good news.”

Your ears perked up at this, curious as to what kind of good would come out of this kind of publicity. Glancing over at Ruby, you noticed she raised her gaze while still keeping her head lowered. Estelle continued.

“Another director caught wind of the situation and contacted me immediately. Apparently, he’s been toying with this idea for a movie about two rival mafia bosses who go undercover as high school cheerleaders. He is adamant that the two of you play the leading roles.”

Shock painted your features as you attempted to process what Estelle just told you. You looked over at Ruby, who seemed just as bewildered as you.

“So, this director wants to work with two people who can’t stand each other?” She inquired.

Estelle shrugged. “I’ve been told he’s very… method. Authenticity is everything to him, no matter what the consequences. Still, people say to trust his process because he’s extremely brilliant.”

She pulled out a couple business cards and handed them to the both of you, his name in thick black font jumping out from the white background.

Calvin Cunningham. Film Director.

Calvin Cunningham turned out to be quite the character.

He was brutally honest, always saying exactly what he thought of something. He engaged with the cast and crew as if they were his best friends, but if something wasn’t up to his standards, he never hesitated to voice his dissatisfaction.

His methods were eccentric and unusual, with an unwavering commitment to authenticity. They were unorthodox, but if they proved to be effective, he couldn’t care less about the cost.

On the first day of shooting, after being given your trailer assignment, you were about to go inside when you saw something that made you stop dead in your tracks. There, hanging on the back of the trailer door, was a big gold star with two names engraved into it.

Yours… and Ruby’s.

Outraged, you turned and marched towards Calvin, only to find him already in conversation with a head of loathsome brunette locks.

“This has to be some mistake,” cried Ruby. “I can’t share a trailer with her!”

“Ditto.” You piped up, moving to stand next to your rival.

Calvin shook his head. “No mistake. You guys can’t stand each other, and I want to maintain that energy throughout filming. I figured some forced proximity could help to fuel that fire.”

“Please, Calvin. I will literally share with anyone else,” you pleaded, words falling on deaf ears as Calvin simply turned and walked away from the two of you.

Ruby turned to glare at you with shrunken pupils, and you reciprocated with a side-eye right back. As you both began your way over to your shared trailer, you couldn’t help but acknowledge: this might be the first time you and Ruby actually agreed on something.

Filming was going well, all things considered. You and Ruby spent your days on set, hashing out all your hatred towards each other in front of the camera, and then pretty much ignored each other otherwise.

Changing could be slightly awkward, given the shared trailer, but you and Ruby had an unspoken agreement to keep to yourselves. Nevertheless, the trailer was a tight space, allowing you to see everything within your peripheral vision. Despite your disdain for Ruby, you couldn’t help but admire the delicate curve of her tapered waist and how it contrasted against her toned stomach. Even you could appreciate how her hair became disheveled every time she lifted a clothing item over her head, prompting her to shake it out until her short tresses tumbled over her shoulder.

You chalked it up to vanity, but sometimes you swore you caught her checking you out from the corner of her eye, too.

One day, while checking your schedule for the upcoming week, you noticed a choreography rehearsal planned for the big knife fight scene towards the end of the movie. Dread immediately consumed you, settling in your stomach like a boulder reaching the bottom of a hill.

It wasn’t because you were worried about getting into a knife fight with Ruby; you knew the weapons were harmless props and posed no threat to your safety. You dreaded any kind of choreography rehearsal, as you were notoriously an uncoordinated klutz. It was like you bore a curse of delayed reaction times and two left feet—a burden that weighed on your shoulders like an anchor.

On the day of the rehearsal, you walked into the stunt room to see Ruby already there, stretching in yoga pants and a crop top that hung just below her ribcage. Calvin stood in the corner conversing with the choreographer, Lucas: an effeminate man with a muscular build that offset his short stature.

Minutes after you started stretching, Lucas blew his whistle, calling you and Ruby over to the center of the room.

“Hey guys! Hope you’re as excited as I am to do some fight choreography.” He chirped, flashing a toothy grin.

While Lucas spoke, your attention shifted to Ruby. She stood confidently, her hands resting on her hips as she listened for instructions. You rolled your eyes. Of course she was confident, she had plenty of combat training during “Willow,” and even more during “Bottoms.”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was one area where Ruby outshone you.

“In this scene,” Lucas explained, handing each of you a prop knife labeled with your characters names. “Quinn and Gia both realize they’re from rival mafia families, and draw their weapons at the regional cheer competition.”

You turned the knife over in your hand, running your thumb over the “Quinn” sticker on the handle. “Is this… a real knife?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but it’s been dulled for your safety. Don’t worry.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing your lack of coordination posed less of a threat now.

Lucas continued. “For the first part, Quinn, advance towards Gia with the knife raised, like you want to slit her throat. Gia, sidestep and dodge her attack.”

You positioned your knife and lunged at Ruby, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding after she successfully avoided the blade.

Lucas nodded in approval. “Great! Now Gia, advance towards Quinn with your weapon, and she’ll block and engage.”

Ruby lunged at you, but when you tried to block her attack, the knife slipped from your grip and fell from your hand. Your face flushed as you stared at the blade, now lying on the plush mat.

“What was that?” Calvin interrupted, still watching from the corner of the room.

Lucas shot him a sheepish grin. “It’s ok, Calvin. It’s just the first rehearsal.”

Calvin grumbled incoherently as you bent down to pick up your knife. You noticed Ruby’s lips curl into a subtle smirk at your mishap, provoking an eye-roll from you.

“Let’s try that again,” Lucas stated. “This time, Gia, why don’t you try advancing a little slower?”

Ruby nodded, and moved towards you seemingly in slow-motion. This time, you managed the block successfully and engaged your weapons without issue.

Lucas beamed in approval. “Great! Let’s move on.”

He went on with instructions, leading you through the engagement of your weapons. Despite the slow pace, you repeatedly made a fool of yourself throughout the entire rehearsal. Sweaty palms hindered your grip on the knife, and you even managed to confuse your left from your right. Calvin stood fuming in the corner, while Ruby’s initially smug demeanor gradually turned into one of annoyance.

“Alright,” Lucas started, wiping his brow and forcing a tight smile. “For this last part, Gia, focus on disarming your opponent, and then tackle her. Quinn, this should be pretty easy. All you have to do is keep yourself open and fall.”

You gulped and assumed the ‘ready’ position, locking eyes with Ruby. She advanced, carefully redirecting your blade before grabbing your shoulders to push you onto your back. Unfortunately, as you were going down, a misstep caused you to lose your footing. Your arms flailed out of instinct, and in the search for stability, you inadvertently dragged the blade across Ruby’s cheek, leaving a bright red cut in its wake.

Startled, she hissed and dropped you onto the mat, hands moving to cradle her injured cheek. “Ouch! What the hell?!”

Calvin and Lucas rushed to Ruby’s side while you stared at your freshly-bloodied knife and tried to process what had just happened. “I thought you said they were dulled!”

“Well yeah, but they’re still real knives!” Lucas exclaimed, moving Ruby’s hand to see the cut.

A stream of apologies flew from your mouth immediately, but Ruby only responded with an icy glare and Calvin mumbled something about the makeup artist before storming out of the room. A lump rose to your throat as you blinked back tears, humiliated and filled with guilt. Once again, your clumsiness managed to ruin things for the people around you.

As you got up to leave the room, you looked back and met Ruby’s gaze. This time, instead of annoyance or anger, her face held only a look of pity as she watched you walk away.

At the end of the day, after you and Ruby were no longer needed on set, you found yourself standing outside your shared trailer, hands wringing in anticipation for what you were about to do.

Despite your best efforts, you knew your struggle to grasp the fight choreography was impeding production. Ruby, on the other hand, excelled at stage combat. You needed the extra practice, and Lucas had already gone home. After several hours of contemplation, you resolved to set aside your pride and seek help from your sworn enemy.

With a deep breath, you entered the trailer. Ruby was already inside, dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra, clearly in the middle of changing. You felt your cheeks flush as she spun around, revealing a neon green band-aid on her right cheek.

“Ever heard of knocking?” She spat, covering herself defensively.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “It’s my trailer too!”

She scoffed, turning around to finish putting her shirt on. You sighed, knowing the odds were already not in your favor.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” you began, prompting her to look back at you, puzzled. “Not about the trailer, but about the knife, and the coffee, and just… everything. I know you think I’m out to get you, but I’m not, I’m just really accident-prone, and for that I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded, silently accepting your apology. You continued, avoiding eye contact for what you were about to ask.

“Listen… I need your help.”

Your words took her by surprise. “With what?”

“Fight choreography,” you pressed. “I know we don’t really get along, and I wouldn’t ask if I had literally any other option, but you’re incredible at stage combat. Please, I could really use the practice.

“No argument there,” she snarled. “But why should I help you?”

“Because we’re co-stars, if I look good, you look good. Besides, do you really want to risk another one of those?” You gestured to the band-aid on her cheek.

Ruby touched the bandaged wound, wincing from the pain.

Defeated, she groaned. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only on two conditions.”

She stepped closer until she was inches from your face, close enough that her warm breath grazed your skin. You felt the sharp jab of her finger in your chest as she locked eyes with you.

“First, during training, you do everything I say, exactly as I say it. And second…” she moved back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “…you owe me a favor.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something,” she replied. “As of right now, we have a fight to train for.”

You followed her to the stunt room, now fully unoccupied as most of the crew had gone home. Ruby switched on the lights and made her way to the props table while you took your spot on one of the mats.

“Hmm,” she scrunched up her nose as she picked up the knives you had used to train earlier. “I really don’t trust you with a weapon right now. No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied, pleasantly surprised at the lack of offense.

Ruby moved around the room in search of a safer substitute. She ended up at a supply cabinet, and sifted through it until she proudly held up a miniature pool noodle.

“Noodles!” She announced, grabbing one and handing you another.

“Perfect,” you exhaled, relieved.

Ruby assumed the ‘ready’ position across from you while you mirrored her stance, gripping the pool noodle as if it were your knife.

“Alright,” she started. “Why don’t we skip the exposition, since there’s no issues there. Let’s jump to the weapon engagement.”

You stepped forward, engaging with Ruby’s noodle. She nodded in approval before continuing the choreography.

“Left, right, no… right. Wait… do you not know your left from your right?”

Embarrassed, you dropped your gaze to the mat. “I do… I just… have to stop and think about it sometimes…”

Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I am totally going to give you shit about that later, but for now, let’s just work on muscle memory.”

She moved behind you, reaching around to take hold of your wrists before leaning into whisper. “Is this ok?”

A shudder traveled down your spine as her breath tickled your ear, a subtle expression you prayed she didn’t notice. “Y-yeah… you’re good.”

The way her fingertips brushed so gently against your skin felt like a million tiny shocks of electricity, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she guided your dominant hand through the movements. “Over, under, around and right.”

She repeated the sequence once more before letting go of you, stepping back to observe. “Show it to me.”

You demonstrated flawlessly, earning a beam of approval.

“Good. Let’s move on.”

From there, Ruby continued to guide you through the combat sequence in its entirety, stopping repeatedly to work out the kinks and offer helpful tips. She taught you where to hold your body weight so you didn’t stumble, and even showed you how to look like you fell on purpose, if necessary. As much as you hated the girl, you had to admit, she was a pretty good teacher.

Eventually, after hours of training, you reached the last step of the routine. Both of you were drenched in sweat and panting hard, but determined to make it to the end.

“Now…” Ruby rested her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “Last but not least: the fall. So to start, I push down on your shoulders…”

She placed her hands near your collarbone and gently pushed, causing your arms to flail and smack her with the pool noodle. Immediately letting go of you, she took a step back with her hands up. You froze, expecting her to yell at you, but to your surprise she threw her head back in laughter.

“And that…” she pointed to the band-aid on her cheek “…is how this happened.”

You forced a nervous giggle in response as you stared at her hysterical disposition. Her laugh was crisp, almost melodic, like windchimes in a summer breeze. You weren’t quite sure what she found so funny; perhaps she was so tired from the long rehearsal, she collapsed into a state of hysteria.

Ruby calmed down after a minute or two, wiping away a tear as her breathing subsided. “So, I’m guessing you don’t like having your shoulders touched?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I guess it just feels constricting to have someone pushing me while I’m trying to fall safely.”

She clicked her tongue, seemingly deep in thought. “Hmm… why don’t we modify it a little bit? I could push you by your hips, let you fall, and then pin you down.”

“Can we do that?” You asked, concerned about getting into trouble again.

“Yeah, it’s not a huge change. I’m sure Lucas won’t mind. Besides, actor safety is always number one priority… and that includes my own.” She gestured to her cheek again with a lopsided smirk, prompting you to grimace apologetically.

You centered your body weight as she approached you, grasping your sides before letting her fingers wrap around your hip bones. She met your eyes, searching for approval.

“Better?” She asked.

Your voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper. “Yeah. Much better.”

“The most important thing,” she explained, “is to keep your body open.”

She moved her hands from your hips up to your arms, positioning them until they were spread out on each side, as if you were preparing for a big hug.

“When I disarm you, move your arms to the side like this. That way, you’ll have more control over a fall, and I’ll have less chance of getting cut.”

You nodded in understanding as she took a step back, preparing for the attack.

“Slow motion, ok? No rush.”

She carefully walked towards you and grabbed your hips, pushing with gentle pressure. Keeping your body open, you fell safely to the mat, back flat on the floor and arms spread out to your sides.

Ruby stood over you wearing a look of pride and satisfaction before offering out her hand to help you up from the mat.

“Wow,” she exclaimed with a breathless chuckle. “I’m a really great teacher.”

You rolled your eyes at her familiar cocky attitude. “Mhm… so, is that it?”

“Not yet. One more time, from the top. Let’s put it all together.”

“Full speed?” You asked, getting into position.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, breathing heavily as she moved to stand across from you. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

On her count, you lunged at her with your noodle before she sidestepped and dodged the attack. She reciprocated with an advance of her own, prompting you to block it and successfully engage your props.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she called out. “Over, under, around and right.”

The two of you continued sparring, each movement now pristine and polished. Droplets of sweat scattered from your skin as your props flew at lightning speed, every advance met with a clean block or countered with the appropriate attack. It was like your bodies were in perfect sync, months of built up tension finally surfacing to glide seamlessly through combat.

As you reached the end of the routine, Ruby expelled your weapon, disarming you and prompting your arms to extend. She seized your hips, fingertips pressing into your plush sides, and pushed until you could fall safely. Back now flat against the mat, she crawled on top of you, straddling your hips while planting her hands on either side of your head.

Time seemingly froze as Ruby hovered above you, keeping you trapped underneath her. Her face was close, so close that you were panting into each other's mouths. You stared up at her, noticing her bright blue eyes had turned significantly darker, and you swore, just for a split second, you saw them glance down at your lips.

“You…” she panted, breathless. “Y-you…”

Your heart pounded in your chest, flustered from the mix of adrenalines. “W-what about me?”

“You… you smell… so bad.”

With that, she immediately picked herself off of you, leaving you lying in a heap on the mat.

Annoyed and confused, you sat up to glare at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she turned away from you and cracked her back. “We’ve been in here for awhile, and you really need a shower.”

“Look who’s talking,” you spat back. “Your hair is literally sticking to your forehead!”

She reached up, awkwardly brushing her hair out of her face while mumbling something incoherent. It was like the air around you had suddenly turned thick with tension, neither of you daring to speak up for fear of saying what you were both thinking.

You decided to break the silence. “What time is it?”

Ruby glanced at her watch. “Almost 1am.”

“Shit,” you responded, not realizing it had gotten so late. “Guess we should…”

“Yeah,” she cut you off.

Without another word, the two of you gathered your things to leave for the evening. On the way out, neither of you offered a “bye” or “see you tomorrow,” but both of you turned to glance back when the other wasn’t looking.

For the remainder of the week, you and Ruby avoided each other like the plague, but not necessarily in the way you had previously. Before, there was always a palpable negative energy looming between the two of you, something Calvin could exploit for the cameras. Now, your scenes read awkwardly, both of you too preoccupied the events of the other night to properly engage in animosity.

This shift in dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by the cast and crew, especially Calvin, who never hesitated to hide his frustration. He desperately sought chemistry, and realized that forcing you to share a trailer wasn’t cutting it anymore. At this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to reignite that spark.

One day, Calvin informed you that lunch would be served in the stunt room. It seemed odd, food being served in the industry equivalent to a trampoline park, but Calvin typically had some rationale behind his unconventional ideas, so you didn’t question it.

When lunch break rolled around, you walked into the stunt room to find it completely dark and empty, aside from Ruby, who stood in the center of the room looking confused. Upon seeing you, she froze.

“Uh… hey.” She muttered, pointing her gaze to the floor.

“Hey yourself,” you replied awkwardly. “Uhm, did Calvin tell you lunch was being served here?”

“Yeah, actually,” she furrowed her brow, glancing around the room. “But I haven’t seen any caterers or anything.”

“Weird, I wonder why he would-“

Suddenly, you were cut off by a door slam, followed by the sharp click of a lock. You and Ruby stared at each other, panic-stricken on your faces before rushing to try the door handle.

“What the… hey! Let us out!” Ruby shouted, pounding on the door after the handle wouldn’t budge.

As you watched Ruby struggle against the door, realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “Calvin!”

“What are you talking about?” Ruby growled.

“Think about it,” you explained. “He’s been frustrated with us all week, our scenes have sucked, he lied to both of us…”

Giving up on the door, Ruby leaned against it and turned to glare at you. “You think he locked us in here on purpose?”

You shot her a knowing look. She groaned frustratedly, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the door.

“That is exactly something he would do,” she exclaimed.

“Someone’s going to sue that man one day,” you huffed.

Ruby snickered in agreement. “Why don’t we?”

“Pretty sure that would require us to actually talk to each other.”

Silence fell between the two of you, as what was supposed to be a lighthearted joke turned into you accidentally addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s not like we ever talked much before…” Ruby muttered, breaking the silence.

“That’s not true,” you argued. “We used to bicker constantly. Now we’re just… weird.”

“This whole week has been weird.” Ruby agreed.

“Why?” You pushed, squinting at her. “You helped me out with a fight scene, and now we’re like two twelve-year-olds at a middle school dance. How does that make sense?”

“I don’t know! I just…” Ruby sighed exasperatedly, and put her head in her hands.

Your gaze softened as you realized the brunette was struggling with her words. Usually, she radiated confidence, an attribute of hers that made you burn with jealousy. Now, she exuberated hesitance like you’d never seen, with her body backed up against the door and her face covered with her hands.

You took a step towards her, and spoke softly. “Ruby, you and I both know we’re not getting out of here until we start talking.”

Realizing you had a point, Ruby groaned and dropped her hands. She refused to look you in the eye, instead opting to stare at your feet while she searched for the right words.

“When we were… fighting,” she began, chewing on each word as if it were molasses. “There was a moment where… I had you pinned…”

She swallowed involuntarily at the blatant description. Your face flushed, but you nodded in an attempt to coax more out of her.

“I was looking down at you… and… I guess… I just realized… maybe I don’t… hate you… as much as I thought I did.”

The moisture drained from your mouth as her confession caught you completely off guard. Half of you had the urge to make fun of her, and the other half just wanted to grab her shoulders and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Instead, you decided to probe on. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think I ever did,” she confessed in a half-whisper. “I never really got to know you before, I think I just… saw you as competition. I mean, you were at every audition, how could I not? I think my mind just filled in the blanks? I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know?” You asked, moving closer and causing her breath to hitch as she was caught between you and the door.

“I think… no, I know… you don’t… hate me either?”

She apprehensively searched your features for an answer, as what was supposed to be a statement came out as more of a question. You nodded, prompting her to exhale in relief before continuing.

“I know that I don’t have to see you as competition. I know that it may have taken me a while to realize it, but the time we’ve spent together on set has been the best month of my life. I know that I hate feeling vulnerable, so if you ever tell anyone about this I’ll deny it… and then I probably actually will hate you.”

You chuckled at her joke, and she began to relax as a warm smile spread across her face. By now, you had moved close enough that your faces were mere inches from each other, and you could just barely hear her breathing over the pounding of your heartbeat.

“So… what now?” You asked, secretly hoping for one specific answer.

She glanced down at your lips, eyeing them hungrily as she hesitated. “I, uh… I think I know… what I want that favor to be.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at her sudden bold demeanor. But as you gazed at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension, you knew there was nothing in the world that could stop you from fulfilling that favor.

Grabbing her jaw, you brought her face closer and crashed your lips together. A small gasp escaped her lips at first, but she soon grasped at your sides and started to kiss back. Her lips were soft, but her kisses were rough and passionate, something you weren’t surprised at given her usual fiery personality.

Her middle finger wrapped around one of the belt loops on your jeans, giving her leverage to pull you closer to her. A quiet whimper erupted from the back of your throat, the feeling of her body pressed against yours being enough to make your knees buckle. You grabbed onto the back of her neck for support, simultaneously pulling her towards you even more and spurring moans of approval from your newfound lover.

Eventually, you pulled apart, both of you gasping to catch your breath, but neither of you letting go of the other. As you stood there, wrapped in Ruby’s embrace, you couldn’t help but survey her features. Her eyes had darkened from overwhelming desire, and her lips were pink and puffy, coated with your saliva. Her originally shiny brunette locks were now disheveled, stray hairs sticking out from the static electricity of being thrust against the door.

She was a mess, but in that moment, you swore you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A breathy chuckle left her parted lips, breaking the silence. “I, uh… I was actually just gonna ask if you knew how to pick a lock.”

Your jaw dropped in shock as you stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

She shook her head no, erupting into laughter at her own joke. You glared at her, unamused, but soon found yourself stifling a giggle. Enemies or otherwise, Ruby was always going to be a sarcastic hothead, and nothing could change that.

“Wow…” she sighed breathlessly.

“I know…” you agreed. “Guess we should thank Calvin, huh?”

Ruby began to chuckle before her eyes suddenly widened in horror. “Shit, Calvin!”

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused at her change in demeanor. “What about Calvin?”

“He casted us together because we hated each other,” she whisper-screamed, eyes darting between you and the locked door. “Everything he’s done has been to fuel the fire: forcing us to share a trailer, locking us in here! He wants us to hate each other, he doesn’t care what it takes! If he finds out about this…”

Panic washed over you as your mind swarmed with possible things Calvin would do to taint your relationship if he found out about your feelings for each other.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. “What do we do?”

Ruby pursed her lips, deep in thought as she racked her brain for ideas. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she turned to you with a wicked grin.

“We’re actors,” she replied. “We act.”

Gripping your shoulders, she walked you backwards before letting go and returning to her original position. Confusion painted your features; you didn’t know what Ruby was up to, but you were curious to find out.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” she exclaimed loudly. “In fact, you’re the last person I’d ever want to be stuck filming with!”

Her sudden shift in attitude left you puzzled and a little hurt, but you quickly understood her intentions after she shot you a sly wink.

“Oh yeah?” You retorted, playing along. “Right back atcha! In fact, if I never saw you again, it’d be too soon!”

Ruby stifled a laugh before quickly getting back into character. “I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Fine!”

At this last remark, the sharp click of the lock sounded again, and the door swung open. Calvin stood in the doorway, a huge ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

“Welcome back, you two.”

He left the door open, and motioned for you to follow him out. You started to exit the room, but as soon as Calvin’s back was turned, Ruby grabbed your wrist and spun you around to capture your lips in hers once again.

A sharp inhale echoed against the back of your throat as she took you by surprise, but you pulled her close and kissed her back in a heartbeat. This kiss was different from the last, with the newfound excitement mixing with the terrifying prospect of being caught. The rush of adrenalines had never tasted so sweet.

Ruby pulled back with haste, immediately looking over her shoulder to make sure Calvin didn’t see. When the coast was clear, she turned back to you with half-lidded eyes.

“I hate you,” she muttered, a goofy grin spreading across her face.

You giggled, covering your mouth to suppress the sound before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I hate you, too.”

231 notes · View notes

xiaq · 2 years ago

Text

Thanks for all the prompts! I combined a few: Outsider POV, getting together with the help of friends, Steve Harrington is an Idiot (affectionate), Rocky Horror, and “did we almost just kiss?”

“Robin,” Steve says, before he’s even fully in the Family Video door. “I’m having a crisis.”

She shoves another VHS tape into the rewinder. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” He whines, collapsing face-first onto the counter.

“I mean no. I don’t have time for a crisis right now. We just finished a crisis and I require at least fifteen business days between crises. I do not have the bandwidth.”

“It’s not like a crisis, crisis,” he mutters. “It’s…a personal crisis.”

She flicks the side of his head. “What is the nature of this personal crisis?”

He rolls his face so his cheek is pressed to the laminate. He meets her eyes. “How did you know you liked girls?”

“Oh,” Robin says. The tape rewinder clicks but she doesn’t move. “Oh. Yeah, we can handle this crisis now. It’s long overdue.”

“Long over—” Steve straightens, weight on his elbows. “What?”

“Honestly I thought we were going to have this conversation during the whole Rocky Horror Picture Show thing but––”

“Robin”

“Sorry. Right. I knew I liked girls because I liked girls. I knew I liked girls because I wanted to kiss girls.”

“Yeah. But how did you know it was more than the normal amount?”

“…the normal amount,” she repeats.

“Well sure,” he scrubs a hand through his hair. “Everyone wants to kiss everyone a little bit, right? Like. How did you know it was more than the normal heterosexual amount?”

Robin cannot believe she’s going to have to say this out loud. She glances around the empty store just to make sure no one has somehow teleported in during the last two minutes.

“Steve. Steven. There is no normal heterosexual amount of wanting to kiss people of the same gender.”

He crosses his arms. “Well, that can’t be right.”

“Hold on. Wait. What boys have you wanted to kiss?” She can guess, but confirmation would be nice.

“Are you sure that––”

“Yes, I’m sure. But back to the boys you’ve wanted to kiss. Have you…acted on that, ever?

“Yeah but just the––oh. Well. You’re probably going to say there isn’t a normal heterosexual amount of kissing the same gender either.”

“How are you this stupid.”

“I mean, everyone messes around with their friends at some point, right?”

“I desperately wish that was true,” Robin answers. “Because if it was, I would not be standing here at 19 years old finding out that Steve Harrington has kissed a boy before I kissed a girl. Jesus. Wait. How many boys have you kissed?”

“Three?”

“Three? Unbelievable.”

Except now he’s wearing his big-eyed, floppy-haired sad expression and she knows, she knows she’s not handling this the way she should.

Robin sighs. “Ok, I’m sorry. Thank you for trusting me with this. I love you and I’m here for you and it sounds like you’re bisexual. Which is actually pretty cool because that means I know two whole queer people other than myself in Hawkins. Well. Probably three. But that hasn’t been officially confirmed.”

“Bi-sexual.” He rolls the word around in his mouth like he’s tasting it. “Bisexual. Huh. Okay.”

“It means you like both. Or, any, I guess. Which no, is not normal for everyone.”

“Okay. Bisexual. Neat. Who else do you know?”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Right. That would be super uncool of you to tell me without their permission. But, um. Are they people I know?”

“They’re people you know.”

“Are they over the age of 16?”

“One of them is.”

The hopeful look on Steve’s face is actually a little gross.

“Are they–”

“Eddie!” Robin says, “hey, what are you doing here so early?”

Steve’s reaction to Eddie pushing open the door provides all the confirmation she needs about which boy Steve currently wants to kiss. Not that there was a lot of uncertainty there anyway. He’d practically kept vigil at Eddie’s bedside while he was in the hospital and in the last month since Eddie was released, they’ve become weirdly inseparable. Half the time when Robin calls in the middle of the night to talk though her nightmares, it’s Eddie answering the Harrington phone. And when no one answers the Harrington phone, a call to the Munson phone will usually do the trick. She’s tempted to think they’re already together except Eddie’s pining has only gotten worse over the last week. If they were banging he’s be less insufferable. Well. He might still be insufferable but in like, a happy, well-fucked way. She doesn’t want to think about that.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “hi.”

“...hi,” Eddie says, understandably confused by Steve’s strangled greeting. He rocks back and forth on his heels, hands shoved in the pockets of a pair of black jeans that are, for once, not ripped. “So. Big news.” He spreads his arms. “You are now looking at a gainfully, legally, employed, upstanding citizen of Hawkins.”

Robin isn’t really surprised. The owner of the auto shop across the street that Eddie applied to is friends with Wayne and a regular at Hideout. If there’s anyone who’s willing to look past Eddie’s poor reputation, it’s him. And Eddie had gotten some sort of automotive certificate the year before in shop class. One of the few things he’d passed with flying colors.

“Oh my god,” Steve says. He stumbles over to hug him and then twirls him around like they’re in one of the stupid romcom videos on the back wall. “Eddie,” Steve says again, this time so overwhelmingly full of tenderness that Robin feels like she’s intruding despite the fact that she’s, you know, standing behind the counter of her own place of work.

“Congratuations,” Steve continues. He’s set Eddie down again but they’re still so close, arms tangled together, that he’s practically speaking the words into Eddie’s mouth. “When do you start?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. Eddie seems to have misplaced his self-awareness because he’s swaying forward, through the scant space left between them, and oh my God, Robin is going to have to do something or they’re definitely going to have their first kiss in the Family Video with her watching.

Robin slams the clamshell case on the Aristocats return she’d just rewound. They jump apart, looking dazed. Steve runs a hand through his hair. Eddie plays with his rings. Even though they’re no longer touching, they’re still looking at each other with the kind of naked affection that could get them in trouble if they’re not careful. Well. More trouble.

“Eddie, that’s awesome,” Robin says brightly. “When do you start?”

“Oh. Monday, actually.”

“That’s great. You and Steve should celebrate tonight.”

“We…should.” Eddie agrees.

“I have plans. Important plans. That I can’t miss. But Steve was just telling me that he wanted to watch Rocky Horror again, right Steve?”

“I–yes?”

“And you like Rocky Horror, right Eddie?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “I do.”

“Great.”

She gives Steve a significant look.

“I’ll come to your place with the movie once I’m off?” Steve suggests to Eddie.

Eddie nods slowly. “Yes. Cool. Cool cool cool. I’ll get pizza. And see you then.” He salutes for some ungodly reason but Steve salutes him back like that’s a normal thing to do and they grin at each other as Eddie walks backward toward the door.

Idiots.

God, she loves them so much.

Steve waits until the van has pulled out of the parking lot to resume his face-down position on the counter.

She goes back to rewinding tapes.

She waits.

“Did we almost just kiss?” he asks finally. “In the Family Video.”

“Sure looked like it,” Robin says. “Which is not advisable. I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

“Yeah, obviously, but that means…if I try to kiss him tonight he’d probably go for it, right?”

“Only one way to find out,” Robin sighs.

Except she already knows that tomorrow morning Steve Harrington will have kissed four boys and she still has yet to kiss a single girl.

Unbelievable.

Steve sits up with sudden purpose. “I am. I’m going to kiss him tonight.”

“Great. Super happy for you. Can you help me rewind some tapes until then?”

Already working on PT. 2 which is Wayne’s POV when he accidentally intrudes on their celebration that night. So. Stay tuned for that.

Pt. 2 is Here.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #myfic #prompts

1K notes · View notes

wellofdean · 8 months ago

Text

OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #the queerness is baked in from the word go #like...OBVIOUSLY #and transparently

167 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year ago

Note

Thinking about Eddie going out to get dinner while reader is over!! Reader sees a big bug and doesn’t want to deal with it/tries to trap it so Eddie can deal with it, but Roan legit just picks it up and let’s it go easy while reader is like “roan my hero T_T!!!” Reader def brings over presents for Roan the next visit because of that LOL.

thank u for ur request lovely! eddie and roan —your boyfriend's trailer attracts creepy crawlies, but luckily his young daughter knows how to catch them. 1.3k

The thing about Eddie's trailer is that, while he's more than made it a home, it is full of bugs. Maybe because the trailer park is a huge field of grass, maybe because of the forest surrounding, you're guaranteed to find a bug or two every time you visit.

Sometimes you get lucky with small moths to be herded back out of the kitchen door. Occasionally, spindly spiders on lines of sink drop down into the room and are swiftly captured by Eddie in an open palm. You have never, ever faced this particular brand of misfortune before.

"What is that?" you squeal, pulling Roan hard against your chest.

She's small, and before your violent flinch, she'd been quite comfortable sitting atop your thigh, her back to your chest. "Woah!" she says, her voice very high.

"Holy crap," you say, again and again as you shuffle down the couch and off of the side of it.

As soon as you can stand without fearing for your life, you pull Roan to your chest, her short legs dangling from either side of your thigh. Letting your new boyfriend's daughter die via a mysterious bug bite would be extremely uncool. You quite like her, and her dad's fine (you feel this yawning pit at the very bottom of your stomach whenever you think about how much you want this to work, how much you already love them).

"Princess, what is that?" you ask, though as soon as you've finished asking, you realise it's nothing nefarious after all.

She tips herself back in your arms, assessing the bug upside down. "Uh. That's a mildi-pede."

The bug is long and brown, segments of its body curved and multi-legged. It moves with tiny footsteps but makes good progress, crawling across the wooden slates toward the rug.

Eddie is the bug catcher. You're the celebrator —he grabs a cup and a piece of paper to sequester whichever insect has decided it must harass you that night, and you get to thank him for being brave with kisses that are somehow shy and congratulatory at once. You're allowed to kiss him, now, whenever you like, but each one makes your lips tingle.

"You get a lot of those?" you ask.

"You've never seened one?" Roan asks.

You live in Indiana, so of course you've seen a millipede. But, you know, normal millipedes, not mutant ones the length of your forearm.

"I feel like I haven't," you confess, your pulse thudding against your chest.

"Where did it go?" Roan asks, wriggling to be put down on her own two feet. She sounds far more curious than afraid.

You put her down on the rug and peer over Roan's play picnic table cautiously. You're ninety nine percent sure that millipedes can't hurt people, but you're scared shitless anyhow.

"Your dad will be back with Chinese food, soon," you say, stepping backwards as Roan creeps forward. It's adorable. You'd coo if your nerves weren't frazzled. "Maybe we could go wait at the kitchen table."

You'd rather wait for him to come home than deal with it yourself. The thought of somehow touching it makes your skin crawl.

"She's a super duper long one," Roan calls, dropping to her knees.

"Roan?" you call back hesitantly. "Uh, don't do whatever it is you're doing. Come on, I'll make you a fun fruity drink again like last week while we wait for your daddy?"

You bite the tip of your tongue so hard you're sure you've sheared the tip clean off when Roan turns back to you, the wretched (innocent) creature racing its legs uselessly as she holds it up in the light.

You wrap your arms around your own chest. "Holy crap, babe! Put it down!"

"Daddy says the bugs aren't scary, they just wanted to have somewhere warm to sleep!"

"Your daddy is very smart," you concede, strained, easing away as Roan comes closer. The creepy crawly is a contrast to her silky lilac pyjamas and ruffled socks, its armoured carapace shining as it metronomes with each step she takes. "But I'm not as brave as you both."

"If you open the door, I can put her outside," Roan says, as though you're the child and she's the adult, her tone softened by that seemingly endless patience Eddie possesses.

You keep your doubt (your disbelief? your awe?) to yourself and cross the short distance to the front door to open it as she commanded. Roan rushes out onto the small porch and down the steps, crouching in the grass to place the millipede down with the utmost care. It's dark out, and she's unafraid, the path lit only by orange light slipping from inside the trailer and the weak headlights of an oncoming car.

You descend the steps and join her.

"Here you go, missy mildi-pede, back to the grass," she murmurs. The millipede's back legs cling to her hand. Roan runs out of sweetness and shakes her free.

You breathe in the cool night air for a moment, watching with Roan as the millipede crawls out of sight between tall blades of bluegrass.

"You're very brave," you say. You feel a little sheepish to have been rescued by her.

"Daddy says that all the time," she agrees proudly.

You offer her your hand and stand tall together as the headlights become apparent. Your car (with Eddie driving, to avoid a game of driveway leap frog) pulls into the space behind his own. He waves when he sees you both behind the windshield, getting out of the car with the takeout bag looped around his wrist.

"Hi girls," he says, closing the door with his hip. "What're you doing, sending out a search party? I wasn't gone that long."

"I had to– I had to bring a mildi-pede outside because Y/N was scared," Roan says, her sentence punctuated with a roaring giggle as Eddie swoops her up into his arms, takeout bag and all.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, smothering her answer with kisses.

You bracelet your wrist in the other hand sheepishly.

Eddie doesn't look up. You assume you've gotten away with not knowing what to say until he pops Roan on his hip, reaching for you. More shameful than your inability to deal with a bug by yourself is how urgently you step into his side. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, the takeout bag hot against your back, his lips curled into a fond smile as he murmurs, "D'you finally see the spider in the bathroom?"

You tilt your face into his cheek kisses. "No?" you ask.

"I'm calling him Gregory," Roan says.

"He's not that big," Eddie promises, leaning back to stroke your face.

"She saved me from the world's grossest millipede."

"Were you kind?" Eddie asks her.

Roan puts a little hand over her heart. "Duh, daddy."

"She's wicked with them, isn't she? She grabs them like they're nothing," he says to you, his hand rubbing down your arm before he passes you the take out bag. Roan must weigh heavy after a long day; he needs both arms to keep her up. They grin at each other with twin mouths. "She's fearless. Thanks for saving Y/N, babe."

"I like Y/N," Roan says earnestly.

You like Roan too —your saviour. You bring her a big Dotty Dolly set the next time you're lucky enough to be invited over, an entomologist Dolly with khaki cargo shorts and a butterfly net. Roan loves it, and Eddie's evidently appreciative, sitting you half on top of his lap as you watch her tear it open with his arms crossed lovingly over your tummy.

733 notes · View notes

arakkne · 5 months ago

Text

Forget who it was, but earlier today I saw someone (a radfem, or at least someone commenting on a radfem's post) making fun of a hypothetical TIF and saying something to the effect of "lol imagine a girl with a hormonal beard and her vagina sweating in her boxers having the audacity to put down other women" (because the context of the post was about TIFs who get gender euphoria from being misogynistic), and I just think that characterization is super uncool and misogynistic in and of itself.

Like, (and I say this lovingly, because I know you can do better), you have a billion other ways to criticize TIFs without resorting to physical appearance. As a gnc woman who wears boxers (which are more comfortable and breathable than any "women's" underwear I've ever worn btw), that characterization made me feel weird, as if I'm doing something gross. I'm sure women with facial hair (who may have PCOS, hirsutism, or are detrans and were or are on testosterone) would not appreciate those words either.

So, yeah. Feel free to disagree, but I don't think I'm out of line by calling this out. Disparaging someone's appearance or clothes (especially if they're afab) is almost always misogynistic, or at the very least just unnecessarily mean. We can do better than that.

#radical feminism #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do touch

100 notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 1 year ago

Note

Omg are you a SAINT??? I’m the one who requested the Theo x ftm Parkinson Reader and it was incredible!!! I love Yanderes ngl because I have….issues…..anyways please bring me a part 2 （╹◡╹）

uh. super dark themes in here? i’m really sorry?

requests open

CLAIRVOYANCE AND TASSEOGRAPHY (Chapter Two of Pansy’s Brother) — yandere! psycho! theodore nott x ftm! sweetheart! parkinson! reader

WARNINGS: abduction/kidnapping, stalking, possessive/obsessive behavior, intense unwarranted jealousy

hey! if you like someone, please don’t stalk and kidnap them! that’s decidedly uncool!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“You going back to your dorm?”

“Nah,” you shake your head. “I need to finish my homework for Trelawney. Going to the library.”

Enzo snickers. “Good luck. ~Clear your mind~,” his voice took on a sing-song quality as he imitated your professor, laughing when you smacked his arm and told him to be nice.

“I like Divination,” you whine. “Trelawney’s nice!”

“Yeah, sure…” he teases, knocking his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes and wave goodbye to him, heading to the library while he turns to go back down to the dungeons.

The hallways are mostly empty, although a few straggling kids make their way through the castle, but a multitude of others must’ve had the same idea as you, because the library is completely full.

You weave your way between a pack of first year Hufflepuffs and a group of zonked-out Gryffindors, dropping your bag down onto the only free table to claim your spot.

Madam Pince, always one beat ahead of everyone else, emerges from the maze of bookshelves, holding a simple wood box out for you.

“Y/N, dear. I believe you’re in need of this?” She said wisely with a small smile on her otherwise stern face.

Madam Pince had always quite liked you. You were quiet (unlike your sister and her friends), you always thanked her whenever she helped you (even if it was just bringing you another cup of tea and an interesting book on the Muggle constitutional monarchy), and you once marched down to the library just to give her an entire plate of cookies because I made too many, really Madam, and besides, you deserve a bit of thanks for all the hard work you do.

(She’d later asked the house elves. They informed her that you’d only baked one batch of cookies. She’s had a soft spot for you ever since.)

You thanked her gratefully, taking the wood box and opening it. Inside was one of the library’s loaner crystal balls. A bit scuffed up, but it did the job.

Sitting down at your table, you got to work writing your Divination essay. You weren’t particularly adept at clairvoyance, but as long as you tried (or at least pretended to), Trelawney would leave you alone.

The library grew quiet as groups began intermittently leaving, rubbing tired eyes and yawning as they stumbled their way down the hall. Madam Pince came by with two mugs of tea and and an order to take a break, dear, have a cuppa with me.

You laid down your quill, taking your offered mug with grateful thanks and a tired smile. She pulled a chair up next to you, sipping her own mug.

“I’ve closed the library up for tonight, but you’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. I know, I know. As an educator, I’m not supposed to have favorites but…” she gave you a conspiratorial wink. “Anyway, the only people left in here are Miss Granger, you, and I. Lovely girl, that Granger. But remember, you need to sleep at some point, dear.”

You laughed and nodded, draining the rest of your tea and swirling the leaves around. “I know. I just need to finish this essay.”

Madam Pince gave you a pointed look, glancing down at the three sentences you had written on your otherwise blank twelve inches of parchment and then back up at you.

“Divination is a difficult subject,” she advised. “Take notes, and write your essay later. Although you seem to be doing quite well with tasseography.” She nodded towards your empty mug which you were still swirling around, just as something to do with your hands.

You laugh, finally stopping the cup and peering in. “Oh no, I’m terrible at reading tea leaves. This looks like a… an axe, I think? And… ooh, this looks like a shark. Or maybe a goldfish.”

She snickered, patting your shoulder and standing up, smiling at you before returning to her seemingly endless task of reshelving books.

You spun the cup around once more, finding only a wonky heart and a vaguely knife-shaped bit. The rim of your tea mug held only a weird looking dog.

You brushed off the silly reading and resumed your homework, tapping the crystal ball with your fingernail in frustration.

There wasn’t anything in there.

You sighed in annoyance, setting down your quill with a clack and rubbing the heel of your hands over your eyes. It was starting to get late, and you weren’t getting anywhere. Might as well call it a bust and go back to your dorm.

You huffed out a short breath as you screwed on the lid of your inkwell, stuffing your quill and parchment in your bag with little care.

Turning back to put the crystal ball back in its box, you froze when you saw something.

You narrowed your eyes, leaning closer to get a better look.

Nope.

Nothing.

You sighed again, shaking your head. You could’ve sworn you’d seen something move. But alas, it was still just the same stupid upside-down reflection of the bookshelves in front of you.

You picked up the ball, nestling the stand back inside the satin interior of the box. As you moved the set the sphere down as well, you saw it again.

Movement.

Now you knew you weren’t crazy.

It was a little hard to tell, as whatever was on the other side of the ball would reflect back inverted, but you swore it looked like a person.

You squinted, shifting a bit. The indistinct figure vanished.

You looked up from the ball tentatively, a bit afraid of what might be ahead of you.

Nothing.

“Hermione?” You called softly. Your voice carried in the empty library.

“Upstairs!” Hermione’s distinct voice called back. You glanced up at the small second floor loft, catching a glimpse of bushy hair.

A hand suddenly came down on your shoulder with a vice-like grip.

You startled, a yelp halfway on your lips when another hand covered your mouth. The mystery person leaned down behind you to whisper in your ear.

“Easy. You’re okay.”

You were frozen with fear, the ball slipping out of your hands and falling onto the (thankfully) carpeted floor, where it rolled to a stop some feet away.

“Not a word.” The stranger’s voice hissed, their grip tightening over your mouth, their short nails digging into your skin.

They yanked you out of your chair from behind, leaving all of your things scattered across your desk. The stranger moved their hand from your shoulder to your opposite elbow, their arm across your torso and keeping you from moving as they dragged you down the row. They made a beeline for the library doors, your weak attempts to fight them off not hindering them in the slightest.

As the stranger fumbled to open the door with both of their hands occupied, a familiar voice called out.

“Are you finally leaving, Y/N, dear?” Madam Pince’s called from just around the corner, half-hidden behind a bookshelf.

The stranger’s grip on you tightened even further, to an almost painful degree.

“Answer her.” They hissed again, digging their nails into your cheeks again before slowly moving their hand down to uncover your mouth.

You trembled with fear. “U-uh, yeah. Got some wonderfully mediocre notes down, and I’m exhausted.”

Her laugh drifted through the library. “Alright then, Y/N. Oh! And if Professor Trelawney actually does assign any tasseography homework, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah, of course. We can share a cuppa chamomile together.”

“Sounds lovely, dear. Sleep well.”

The rather sweet moment was ruined as the stranger’s hand returned over your mouth and you were bodily dragged out of the library.

~~~

Irma Pince was many things, but she was not stupid.

Once hated by the students of Hogwarts, now one of the most beloved staff members, she was an integral part of the school. Since allowing for more freedom in the library—which now drew more regulars and first years who were no longer afraid of her—plus with the addition of befriending some of the more polite students, she no longer was the sour, unpleasant woman she’d once been.

She was knowledgeable in virtually every subject—she knew who needed to return what books by when, who the Muggle prime minister in 1857 was, what dittany is, and how fireworks worked, they’re really quite simple, Mr. and Mr. Weasley. Point being, she knew just about everything about anything.

She also knew for a fact that Y/N Parkinson hated chamomile tea.

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #yandere theodore nott #theo nott #trans reader

197 notes · View notes