Robin gets horrible period cramps during her employment at Scoops Ahoy, she's in pain, she's annoyed and she's stuck there with Steve Harrington of all people. She just sits in the break room, hoping her misery will soon be over, but of course Harrington can't stay at the counter for five minutes and decides to enrich her suffering with his presence.
She expects a stupid quip from him, something about her slacking off.
Instead, he looks at her with a jock equivalent of sympathy. "Cramps?" he asks and Robin's jaw drops to the floor. "I mean, none of my business, I know, but you look really miserable. Did you take a painkiller?"
Robin just shakes her head, clutching her stomach. "Left mine at home," she mutters. "And I really need to get some...supplies, but I can't even stand up. What a day."
Steve just nods and turns around and Robin thinks he'll leave her alone now, maybe mock her for too much information, but then she sees him through the window - he's temporarily closing the shop.
His majestically hairy head peeks through the window as he asks: "Tampons or pads?"
"...pads?"
Steve nods and disappears from her sight.
Robin is pretty sure she hallucinated the whole thing, but ten minutes later Steve is back, pads, painkillers and a...
"A burrito?" she asks and she has to laugh, she really does, because what the fuck is happening?
Steve just shrugs and grabs a handful of napkins. "No heating pads in a summer shopping mall, so I had to improvise. These things take ages to cool down so if you wrap it, it should stay hot for a while and help."
A few minutes later, Robin is back, having used her "supplies" and Steve urges her to sit down, handing her the carefully wrapped burrito. "I'll cover the counter, but if you need anything, let me know."
Robin wants to tell him many things, such as How did you know all of this?, Weren't you supposed to be an asshole?, How did you come up with the burrito idea? and much, much more. But she's really tired and the painkiller is taking its time, so she settles for the shortest one.
"Thanks, Steve."
(look, we all know Steve had many girlfriends and with his caring nature and observation skills, he'd be a cramps relieving pro)
A follow-up to my Hanahaki Platonic Stobin drabble
Platonic Stobin, Steddie, past Stancy || rating: T || wc: 2.7k || tags: dialogue heavy, VERY excessive use of italics, fluff and flirting and humor, no beta
~~~
His sides are ripped to shreds, insides only kept inside because of the torn, dirty scrap of sweater Nancy wrapped around him. Steve’s been downplaying it as much as possible, mostly to keep Munson calm, but Robin knows better.
What’s wrong with your back?
Steve sighs, trying to mute his thoughts into a scramble like they’ve practiced so well over the past nine months, but the scorching pain on his shoulder blades, feet, and arms makes it rather difficult.
Don’t you dare ignore me Steve Harrington.
She glares back at him from her spot next to Nancy. They’ve been walking for miles, every rock and crack in the ground digging into his feet with every step. Munson’s next him, going on about something like bats, or metal music. Steve’s not sure, he’s having a hell of a time focusing.
But the guy crowds into Steve’s space, dipping in and out of orbit like he can’t help being as close as possible. Eddie keeps looking at him. Steve’s never been great with eye contact, but can’t help it when Eddie starts saying things like “the kid worships you, dude” and “insists on the matter, in fact.”
Told you the kid loves you even though he has another older adult male friend.
Steve can practically hear her giggling, but she’s just balancing her out-loud conversation with their mind-reading conversation. She’s better at it than he is, talking to two people at once. Hell, sometimes Steve has a hard enough time keeping track of just one conversation.
Their new super powers had been a learning curve, to say the least. It’d taken them months to learn how to tune each other out when needed, which was more often than not. Working Family Video shed a new light on how absolutely down-bad horny Steve was for almost every mildly attractive woman who walked through the front door. Including Joyce Byers, to Robin’s horror.
Steve was cursed with Robin’s almost near-constant thoughts about her newest crush, Vickie. He’s never met her before, doesn’t remember her from school, but could describe what she looks like down to the small, rust colored freckle on the corner of her left eye, just below the lash line.
But even with the extensive learning curve, they discovered some severe consequences of their powers almost immediately.
The first day Robin came over, bloodied and crying, with him no better off, Steve was so shaky he’d dropped a mug, slicing his hand as he scooped up the pieces. She rushed over, said she heard his pain more than felt it, like loud static.
So, no sharing physical sensations, just mind-reading. Which is great for me, considering how slutty you are. She’d laughed when he lightly knocked her on the shoulder, but she’d thought it with such fondness that he couldn’t be mad if he tried.
The worst of their situation came to light when Robin’s parents called her home, said a weekend away after Star Court was more than enough. So she’d left him alone in that big, empty house, suffering from a severe concussion and dizzy spells.
Which only grew worse the longer they were apart.
Steve didn’t have anywhere to go, now jobless with the mall gone, and none of the kids came to visit. So he’d holed himself up in his room. The headaches grew worse, handfuls of pills doing nothing to help.
By the fifth day, he was vomiting again, shaking and crying, head throbbing, nose bleeding into the toilet bowl all over again when there was a knock on the door. The knock might as well have been inside his skull, but he couldn’t move, could barely see past the haze clouding his periphery like it had after his fight with Billy. He cried as the knocking grew louder, more persistent, until it finally stopped.
He slumped forward, pressed his head into the cool porcelain. Lifting his hand to flush, he noticed a small, vibrant white petal floating amidst the red and black water, all of which, presumably, came out of him.
–can’t find it. Must be… rock. The mat?
Robin?
There was a click, then the sound of his front door opening. Slow, heavy footsteps up the stairs.
Dingus where the hell are you? Not in the bedroom… Please, Steve, I need help.
That got his attention, but as he’d gone to move, the bathroom door opened to a bloodstained Robin, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess, pale and gaunt like a ghost. She dropped to the ground next to him, practically draped herself over his back. And just like before, the pain receded so violently he vomited one last time. A full, yet slightly crumpled, flower floated amidst the yuck inside the toilet.
It was a daisy.
“Daisies are my favorite,” Robin whispered. She held out her hand to him, dirty and covered in the same green stains as the ones on her shirt, and handed him a very small, miniature sunflower. “So I’m guessing–”
My favorite.
Eventually they’d figured out what works and what doesn’t. Talking on the phone everyday never helped, back to throwing up flowers after only a week. He’d started to pull the daisies out to dry, which Robin said was gross. She took them home with her anyways.
But he’d borrowed Robin a sweatshirt that she took home with her, and by the fourth day, she was in better shape than he was, only a slight headache instead of Steve’s encroaching migraine. So they started exchanging clothes and quickly learned it wasn’t necessarily their clothes or possessions, but their scents.
You smell kind of like sunflowers
“Robin, sunflowers don’t have a smell.”
She was face first in his pillow, day seventeen after a two-week family vacation to Key West, returning his comforter, and a myriad of t-shirts. They’d both gotten migraines, but no vomit-soaked flowers or bloody noses. So it was an improvement, overall.
I know they don’t. It’s more like, I don’t know, sunshine. Or fresh grass. A warm rain… like summer.
He’d jumped on her then, smothered her into his mattress until she was tickling him to get off her.
“What do I smell like?” she’d asked, casual but not quite casual enough. He smiled.
Like daisies. An open field full of wildflowers. A new song, or driving with the windows down.
She smiled back at him, wide and genuine, packed full of love. And he knew, in that moment, he was happy to spend the rest of his life with her.
“Harrington,” Eddie cuts through his reminiscing. The guy looks like he’s trying not to be annoyed, which makes sense considering he’s attempting to be nice and Steve’s completely zoned out.
Do you have another concussion? Is it rabies?
He sighs, quiet enough that hopefully Eddie doesn’t assume it’s aimed at him. No, Robs. Just a normal dingus-where-did-you-go zone out. Relax.
She shoots him another glare over her shoulder, but ultimately lets it go.
“Harrington, you still with us?” Eddie laughs it off like a joke, but his eyes are wide, and he’s pressing in close again.
He’s warm, and without thinking, Steve finds himself leaning towards him, too– like magnets.
What magnets?
Never mind, Robs, shut up.
“Yeah Munson, I’m still here.” Steve chuckles, and Eddie relaxes a tad. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. I’ve dealt with worse.”
“Worse than an under-water tentacle monster dragging you through hell on your bare-back and almost choking you to death?”
When Eddie puts it like that, Steve really does have to think about it. “What about throwing fireworks at a giant, mind-controlling flesh monster and getting tortured under Star Court by Russian spies who shot me and Robin up with mystery drugs?”
DINGUS! If we haven’t told the Party about our super powers you can’t tell a goddamn stranger like Munson!
Eddie’s eyes are wide and dark again. He chuckles a little too loud, almost deranged. “Yeah, you know what, Harrington, that might be worse.”
They continue to walk in silence. Well, Steve’s silent. He lets Eddie ramble, talking about Dustin, something called a Munson doctrine. He calls Steve a ‘good dude’ at which Steve hopes the sky is dark enough to hide his embarrassed flush.
Eddie says something about the girls jumping in to save him, but he leans in again when he says it, and all Steve can think about is how close he is, the light brush of Eddie’s knuckles against the back of his hand–
What…?
– and the comfort that settles over Steve when he catches Eddie smiling at him. They stop in unison, Eddie leans in close to whisper like it’s a secret.
“But Wheeler, right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in.”
Eddie’s barely shorter than him, just enough that he looks up at Steve through his dark lashes, big, brown, puppy-dog eyes hooked onto his own. He knows guys can be handsome, but he thinks Eddie might be more pretty than handsome.
I’m sorry? What the fuck is happening back there!
“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Eddie says, low and slow. His voice full of honey that soaks into Steve’s brain, the actual words lost in the overwhelming sweetness of everything that is Eddie. “But if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”
Steve can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re so pink and fluffy and biteable, so he leans in, like instinct tells him. Eddie looks surprised, but brushes his finger tips against Steve’s own. He whispers, “Steve…?” like it’s more revelation than question. Eddie’s so close that Steve just–
“Are you fucking kidding me, Steven?” Robin shouts, incredulous and much too loud. Eddie flinches away from him, hides behind his hair like a turtle shrinking back into its shell. Steve’s shoulders droop in disappointment.
Disappointment? Wait. Did I almost just kiss–
“Eddie Munson?” Robin finishes his not-out-loud sentence.
“Buckley?” Eddie asks, nervous as the girl marches towards them, her eyes locked on Steve.
“Yes, Dingus!” Robin completely ignores Eddie’s response in favor of barreling up to Steve, finger so close to his face he goes cross-eyed. “Yes, you were, and oh my god I can’t believe you!”
Robs, I’m kind of freaking out right now. Can you please relax?
“You’re freaking out?” she shouts. Nancy shushes her, but it goes unnoticed. “I’m freaking out! After all this time, after Tammy fucking Thompson, this is happening right now? With– with– ” Robin wildly gestures to Munson. “Goddamn, Steve, you reek of sunflowers right now, oh my god! Just like when Joyce came into the store.”
It’s as dark as it always is, but a flash of red lighting illuminates the red painted across Eddie’s cheeks as he bites on his lip, looking nervous yet almost bashful as he pulls another larger strand of hair across his face.
“Sunflowers? What’s happening right now,” he whispers to Nancy, who shrugs. She answers with a casual, “I’m not sure, they do this a lot.”
“That’s not fair!” Steve quietly shouts back at her. “What’s wrong with–” he glances at Eddie, who flushes again. He’s so pale I bet he’s red down to his…
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Robin throws her hands over her ears and pinches her eyes closed.
Steve forces a smile to cover his gay panic. Shit, am I gay?
“No!” Robin slaps both her hands on either side of his head, mushing his cheeks together. “You’re not g–” she mushes her mouth shut, catching her slip-up just before it tumbled out of her. “And that’s not what that kind of panic means, so don’t call it that.”
“Panic?” Eddie asks, stepping towards them. His eyes are trained on Steve, flashing down to his lips, then back up to catch his gaze. Steve sees something like hope buried beneath Eddie’s tough guy demeanor. “But I thought–” he glances at Nancy before quickly looking away.
Robin rolls her eyes at him, and Eddie backs off a bit. Except his look doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Me?” Nancy asks. “What about me?”
Robin, don’t–
But it’s too late, because at that question, everyone turns to look at Steve.
Over the past few months, Steve’s started growing out his hair. It’s not really in style, but he’s seen a few guys with long hair, and they looked really good. Right now, he wishes it was long enough so he could hide behind it like Eddie. But, then again, he’d also tried growing a mustache, since Freddy Mercury had amazing style– Steve’s always like Queen.
Except my mustache never looked as good as his, so I bet long hair wouldn’t either. Maybe the short hair helps highlight it, like his cheekbones.
Jesus Christ, you’re so obvious. I can crack Russian spy code phrases enough to break into an underground military base but apparently I can’t spot a bisexual within five feet of me.
Steve sighs, dragging his hands down his face at Robin’s inside-mind rambling. Nancy, however, takes it to mean something much different. “Oh, Steve, no.” Her voice is pitying and too nice and it reminds him painfully of the last few months of their relationship. Like she’s talking to a child. “Steve, I’m so sorry, but– I still love Jonathan.”
“I know, Nance, that’s not–”
“Are you kidding me, Wheeler?” Eddie screeches. Steve really doesn’t understand how they’re so lucky that they haven’t been hunted down and eaten by now.
Eddie’s thrown his hands up in the air, all theatrics as he gawks at her. She backs off, surprised, but quickly recovers and squints her eyes at him, crossing her arms as he continues to ramble.
“After everything that’s happened? Steve ripping off his sweater, jumping out of the boat and beating a bat to death, then biting its head off, all while soaking wet. I mean, the way he spit that blood out.” Nancy cringes, and yeah, Steve feels the same way, knows he'll be tasting that black sludge in his nightmares.
Now that’s gay panic.
I thought that’s not what that means, Rob
Ugh, I regret teaching you things.
Eddie’s still on a roll. “He was so… I mean,” Eddie throws his arms out towards Steve, showing him off like he’s a prized cow, “look at him, Wheeler! And you’re picking Byers?”
To Steve’s surprise, the glowering ferocity in Nancy’s face morphs into a coy smile, eyebrows raised in question to an answer she’s already figured out. Because that’s how Nancy Wheeler, journalist extraordinaire, gets her story. She reads people.
Before Eddie well and truly freaks out at the turn in Nancy’s demeanor, she winks at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Joyce Byers?” She giggles and rolls her eyes.
Then, in a mortifying turn of events, Nancy pulls a strand of her brown, curly hair in front of her face, forces her eyes open, doe-eyed and almost brown under the dark sky, looking up at him through her lashes, then darts her gaze to Eddie.
Ha! You have a type! Wait, how did Nancy clock you faster than–
“Okay!” It bursts from Steve’s chest, loud enough it shocks the rest of them. They stand quiet, listening to the mundane noises around them, and breathe a sigh of relief at the resounding silence. “This has been fun, really, but why don’t we all just keep going so we can get the hell out of here and go find my– I mean our– no, the little shits.”
This is why they call you mom.
“I’m not a goddamn mom, Robin, how many damn times do I have to tell you guys that?”
“If you’re mommy, does that mean I’m daddy?” The words slip through Eddie’s mouth and, unfortunately, bury themselves into Steve’s brain. Now Steve’s not sure who’s blush is hotter, his or Eddie’s. He’d guess maybe Eddie’s, judging by the way the man grabs Nancy’s arm and hauls her away at a half sprint.
She laughs at him, lighthearted, and slings her arm through his as they walk side by side. Steve watches as she leans her head towards Eddie’s whispering something into his ear that finally has the man’s shoulder’s relaxing. He bumps his shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture.
Robin turns to look at Steve, really look, with sad, concerned eyes and a twist to her mouth.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It just caught me off guard I guess.
Steve places a light kiss on her dirty forehead. She smiles, grabs his hand in hers, and squeezes once.
M (Mentions of sexual activity and Eddie's 🍆) | WC 836 | Stobin & Steddie
It was Steve's 29th birthday and although Eddie had plans -rockstar duties- that didn't stop Robin from swooping in and saving the day.
Work couldn't be escaped, which sure, that was shitty, but Steve owned the place and still had to see through certain duties on a daily basis. Plus it gave him and Robin the opportunity to hash out their plans for the evening. On their way out of the shop they ordered pizza to Steve's apartment and set out to the closest gas station to procure a hoard of candy and a couple bottles of wine.
It was their constant gabbing back and forth that distracted Steve from Eddie's car in the parkade.
Both he and Robin, oblivious to the fact of what was waiting in the apartment for Steve, they carried on.
By the time the elevator reached the 34th floor, a bag of Skittles had been demolished and Steve was laughing so hard he was hiccuping. With tears in his eyes and gasping for breath Steve was bent over wheezing when Robin opened the door to his and Eddie's apartment, leaving him momentarily blind to the sight before him.
But that didn't mean he missed the blood curdling scream released by Robin in the same instant Eddie's voice yelled out a happy, “Surprise!”
Popping upright with the joy that his boyfriend was home for his birthday, Steve was met with a very nude Eddie. There in his porcelain skin and tattooed glory, Eddie was laid out on their black leather couch, surrounded by rose petals, candles and chocolates.
Steve's heart fluttered with excitement.
And Robin's shuddered with horror. “Eddie! What the fuck!? Put your junk away!”
While Eddie calmly cupped himself on the couch not moving another inch from his position, Steve struggled to pull his eyes away as Robin's ire was turned towards him.
“I thought you said he wasn't going to be home, Dingus. How am I ever going get the image of Eddie's saggy nuts -
“-hey my nuts aren't saggy!”
- out of my head. It'll be forever burned into my retinas. I'll have to bleach my eyeballs or carve them out with a fucking spoon.”
Eddie's now grumbling to himself on the couch looking down at his crotch, most likely trying to hype himself up from Robin's early insult. Steve's sure he hears the whispered words of, ‘You're not saggy, you're perfectly normal and I love you.’ And with Eddie Steve can never be sure, but it's not a far off guess.
God how he loves that dork.
Steve can't believe Eddie flew in from his tour for his birthday.
Still shielding himself from Robin's delicate eyes, Eddie catches Steve's lingering stare and puckers his lips into a kiss, blowing it in Steve's direction while he continues to stand in the doorway with Robin.
Eventually he decides to tune back into her rant.
“- penis, Steve. I'm a lesbian, I shouldn't have to see anyone's dick. And we both know I've seen yours enough as is. Lord knows I can't forget last Halloween and the horror that it truly was. But Eddie's?! I didn't need to know it was pierced, let alone tattooed! Sure you probably would have told me eventually, but come on man, I didn't need to see it.”
It's the mention of such a tattoo that has Steve whipping his head back in Eddie's direction.
Eddie didn't have a tattoo there when he left.
Oh.
Oh.
As Steve catches on and Eddie sends him a wink, mouthing a sly ‘Surprise,’ he has to restrain him from shoving Robin out the door.
“Get out.”
Robin's rambling stops and she looks at Steve deeply offended, “Excuse me.”
He'll make it up to her later, but currently his rockstar boyfriend is laid out naked on their expensive couch with a new tattoo that Steve really feels the deep seeded need to taste, lick from the man's body, or suck from his skin.
Truly any of the above works.
Robin rolls her eyes and groans, “But Steve-uh, the pizza.”
“I'll order a pizza to your damn apartment, Robby. But I swear to god if you don't leave in the next five seconds you're going to see a whole lot more than just a single dick.”
She scrunches her nose in disgust, “Boo you whore.”
“You know it.” Steve states proudly, “Now out, please. I swear once Eddie's gone we can do a pizza and wine night.”
Robin groans once again, but she does eventually leave with a pinch to Steve's ass and a snarky, “Don't get him pregnant!” sent in Eddie's general direction.
With the click of the door behind him, Steve sheds his clothes clumsily and hops from one foot to the other as he steps out of his jeans, then underwear, on his way to the couch.
With little to no grace he falls into Eddie's arms with a giggle, feeling the press of lips to his forehead and the whispered words of, “Happy Birthday, Baby,” to his skin.
steve calls everyone to check up on them at 8:00 every night. like clockwork, the phones will ring and one by one, each kiddo confirms their safety. it puts his mind at ease, at least just a little bit.
robin only calls steve. never at a specific time, but always way too late in the night to be something she planned. 2:34, 1:17, 3:55, 4:11.
“steve? steve, please tell me you’re there.”
“i’m here, robbie.”
she’s huffing and puffing like she ran a marathon in her sleep.
“they don’t- they’re not- your face?”
“nobody’s here but me. no russians. no injuries.” he tries to keep his voice even, steady, let her know he means it.
“promise you’ll call if they come? i’ll- i’ll get you out this time, i swear, i- i’ll do more. promise?”
and steve shuts his eyes, holding back a sad sigh as he pictures her in that bunker, where her brain currently is, screaming out for him, begging them to leave him alone, to stop hurting him.
“i promise. but there’s nothing to worry about. i’m okay, you’re okay. there’s no russians.”
“i should have saved you-“
“you did save me, robbie.”
“i could have- i should have done more.”
“you did enough.”
and her breathing stutters before it finally slows down, her lungs settling on an even pace. he can lay back now.
Steve, Eddie, and Robin move into a house in Boston in the 90s. Their neighbors are a nice, older couple who Steve’s pretty sure used to be Olympic runners. Every morning they go for a jog around the city and it’s only a matter of weeks before Steve is joining them. As Thanksgiving approaches, the couple tells Steve about the annual turkey trot the city hosts.
Still new to town, Steve convinces Eddie and Robin that the turkey trot is a fun tradition that they have to attend. Taking the name literally, they agree because they want to see wild turkeys running through the streets of Boston
(“Let them run for their freedom!” Eddie chants.
"It's what they deserve," Robin agrees. )
Flash forward to an hour into the festivities, Eddie and Robin are sweating and panting, practically falling over each other. They’re glaring at Steve while trying to keep up with him, muttering that he’s a traitor and how they thought they would see turkeys not be the turkeys.
At one point Robin shouts at Steve to “Save himself” while Eddie collapses to the floor in a dramatic fit shouting “Leave me here to die.”
When Steve finishes the race, he has to double back to rescue the fallen "turkeys." As punishment for his scheme, they make him cook and clean the entire feast of dessert and carbs (no turkey in sight) they demand after participating in physical activity.
The following year, Steve is the only one running while Eddie and Robin cheer him on from the sidelines in awful, homemade turkey outfits.
the world fucked up and steve and robin where paying for the consequences. it was either that or they did something truly unforgivable in their past lives and the only way to atone for their sins is to save the world apparently.
steve and robin would like to reiterate that they are not heroes okay. they're not jonathan and nancy.
hell they would argue that they're not even suppose to be here. " you never leave pack behind. "
steve and robin are weak for pups though, their pups especially; twin brown eyes looking back at them, for the first time filled with hope. dead brown eyes looking back them; lucas, dustin. erica-
no don't think about that.
don't think.
no
no
no
dead
dead
GONE.
'fuck it,' the duo thought. the apocalypse already happened. steve and robin are tired of being the responsible ones; there is no one here to take care of.
"it's so much blood..."
"jane!"
"will!"
"it's okay, you tried."
"it doesn't hurt anymore."
everyone that would put a stop to it was gone. their pack is gone. they're allowed to be a little reckless; jane and will are fading fast...
steve and robin offer the only thing they could at the moment; one final wish and promise to their pups. they pull the twins into their arms and stroke jane and wills matted, blood-caked hair. one last final act of comfort, before they too leave this world.
the world doesn't end with a loud bang, but with a whimper. grief premating the aftermath.
going back to before felt too easy. there is no loud flash of light that blinds them. the world isn't multicolored. it's a quiet thing. steve and robin's bodies feel heavy. the world slows down until it feels like they're swimming in molasses. their vision darkness... they finally get to go home.
-
steve wakes up feeling like he got the breath knocked out of him. he feels hot and sticky. then the pain shoots up his abdomen and suddenly he doesn't care that his bed feels like a small pool; wet and flushed like he just finished swimming practice. everything hurts. the pain was too much. steve is so disoriented he doesn't notice the blood in between his legs or the sharp ache of his gums.
pain.
pain.
PAIN.
everything hurts. steve feels like he's being cooked alive. steve does the only thing he can do and curl up into a ball and cry. the brown haired boy wrapped his arms around himself, hoping the cold comfort was enough to keep him from falling into insanity.
-
robin wakes up to the world being loud. she can hear every little rain droplet hit the roof of her home. she can hear the twitch of the pipes. she can smell the scent of damp grass. the muggy staleness makes her sweat slicked skin feel even more unbearable. she sucks in a breath and that's when she tastes the blood. her lips were cut up by the canines of her teeth.
robin feels irritated.
she feels so fucking angry.
the world is just so fucking loud.
robin been overstimulated before but never to this extent. it feels like her entire nervous system has been replaced with live wires. she grabs all the pillows and blankets and tries to smother herself. hoping that the darkness is enough too dull the too bright world. if not they're gonna be having a whole lot of problems.
-
shockingly it wasn't the acquired superpowers that made the world tilt on it's axis or even the time traveling, no it was the change in designation that did it.
Taking place from September 1st to 30th, artists and writers will have the opportunity to share their Stobin creations and works.
There will be no minimum or maximum word count, we just ask that after 1000k you add a 'read more,' to your post. Please rate your works accordingly and use warnings at the top of your post if you believe your content could be triggering to some users. When posting make sure to write the prompt of the day at the top of your post and tag @sept-stobin-extravaganza so your post can be added to the queue. Expect to see a '🍦' commented in the replies of your post, that's when you'll know it's been added to the queue. After receiving a '🍦' in your replies please add your works to the Ao3 Collection. Same goes for artists.
But most importantly, get creative and have fun!
Please no AI.
If you have any questions or concerns please feel free to send a message @sept-stobin-extravaganza or @little-annie
Soulmate au where romantic, platonic, and familial soulmate bonds exist (except parent-child bonds because being soulmates means sharing emotional burdens, and parents shouldn’t ask that of their children).
Bonds happen when a significant vulnerable moment(s) is shared between the two. Sometimes it’s a mutual confession; sometimes it’s a promise made. Sometimes it’s shared trauma. As long as both parties are vulnerable with one another.
Steve is so sure Robin is his soulmate despite their rocky start. Sharing a space comes naturally, moving fluidly around each other, banter ricocheting between them. At first he thought it would be a romantic soulmate bond until he knew better that one fateful night.
And that same night, Steve and Robin were waiting for their soulmate mark. They went through hell together, thought they were gonna die together.
But their injuries were tended to and they were cleared to go home. The sun broke dawn and their skin remained bare except for their fresh wounds.
It wasn’t until spring when a certain boy catches Steve’s eye that he begins to truly contemplate his sexuality.
Steve comes out to Robin in the Family Video bathroom floor (to honor their tradition, of course). And they both simultaneously took a deep breath as relief settled over them in a way it never had before. Like a final piece slotting into place. Like the first breath taken after holding your breath underwater for as long as you could…
There on their inner wrists, on Steve’s left and Robin’s right, is a small blue and white sailor’s hat the size of a penny.
