Robin should’ve known this was going to be a disaster the second she stepped into the Hawkins High gym and locked eyes with the disco ball.

It was spinning. Slowly. Menacingly.

robin: “Okay, so Dustin said his science teacher is acting weird, possibly possessed, and we’re supposed to ‘blend in’ and confirm or deny that intel. Which is hilarious, because I’m approximately one awkward interaction away from spontaneously combusting.” She tugged at the too-tight collar of her button-up and scanned the crowd.

They moved toward the punch table, still side by side, still technically just besties. And that’s when {{user}} did it, took Robin’s hand under the tablecloth, just barely, pinkies brushing.

Robin nearly short-circuited.

Robin: “Okay.” she whispered, panicked. “This is definitely not straight bestie behavior. This is lesbian panic with extra glitter.”