#Chrissy x robin

[little-annie]

How do you think the spicy 6 (and some) spend their time waiting out the blizzard?

I’m working on a fic for Spicy 6ber fanworks, but have this in the meantime.

[melonalemonade]

might have fallen into a little buckingham brainrot 😵‍💫

[forsesam]

I ended up spending a lot more time on this than I thought I would but it's okay because they deserve it <3

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

In a world where Robin Buckley was born Robin "Birdie" Munson, daughter of Wayne Munson.

[fuctacles]

@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 1/3 for easier reading on tumblr, but will be posted as a one-shot on Ao3 later | thanks @stevesjockstrap for beta-reading and mental support 💚

T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider by me | Part 2 | Part 3 | Ao3

The shop was never busy. Aside from Valentine’s Day and Christmas, it was a lot of goofing around and packing online orders. And since it was pouring on a Tuesday afternoon, they expected no customers until closing, which was more than okay with them. They didn't choose it because it was popular. They chose it because their younger friends were too embarrassed to bother them here. 

“It’s getting pretty bad,” Steve points out, squinting through the window. “I don’t wanna drive in this weather.”

Robin looks up just in time to catch a flash of lightning splitting the dark clouds outside. 

“Maybe it will let up before we close.”

Thunder crackles above them, and Steve raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“We can wait it out in the pizzeria across the street,” she offers then.

“I like the way you think.”

There’s a loud bang as their doors slam open, letting inside some of the summer storm carnage. Despite the size of the shop, they can feel the cold rain on their faces, and for a second, the sound of the storm is deafening. It cuts off as suddenly as it started but is replaced by loud, displeased sounds of two figures drenched to the bone.

“Holy fucking shit!” a wet rat dripping on their floor curses loudly. He shakes his hands creating a small waterfall down the lapels of his leather jacket. The figure next to him drops down the hood of their jacket with a wet smack.

“Holy shitting fuck,” she agrees.

“They better be selling towels here.”

“Uh...” The unhooded figure, a short blonde, looks around curiously. “I’m afraid not.”

This prompts the guy to peel the wet hair away from his face and look properly around.

“Did we just walk into a fucking sex shop?”

“You did, yeah.”

The two turn to the desk when Steve speaks up. 

Next to him, Robin flinches, and he senses something weird from her, like a brain equivalent of an exclamation mark. But he doesn’t think much of it, assuming it might simply be a reaction to the pretty girl in front of them.

“We have a radiator in the back, I could take your clothes to dry,” he offers the newcomers.

“No, we—”

“Are you seriously going back out in this weather?” The girl looks at her friend with raised eyebrows. He scoffs.

“No,” he admits petulantly.

“I can make you guys some hot tea. It’s not like anything is happening here anyway,” Robin pipes up.

“That would be great, thanks.” The blonde lights up gratefully, and Robin squirms. 

Stave takes it upon himself to gather their wet things, afraid his friend might combust if she comes any closer to the girl. When he’s hanging the clothes, she is uncharacteristically quiet, so he turns to her and cocks his head.

“What’s up?”

She frowns at the mugs she's pulling out.

“Her.”

"Huh? She’s cute, isn’t she?" He grins.

“I think I could hear her,” Robin clarifies. 

Steve straightens up immediately and walks towards his friend. She’s looking back up, worrying her bottom lip under her teeth.

“Do you think they are dating?” He motions to the front of the shop where they can hear the other two talk. She looks at the clothes scattered around the backroom. A denim vest, two black jackets, and a hoodie. Judging by the size and style, they all seemed to belong to one person.

“They could be like us,” he points out, but she doesn’t seem convinced. He isn’t either.

“Or she could not know.”

That would complicate things, wouldn’t it?

After exchanging a few heated looks they trail back to the front and Steve hands the teas to their intruders.

"Thank you." The girl smiles sweetly, though her gaze slides towards Robin.

Steve gives his friend a pointed look but she's too dazed to even flip him off. 

"Thanks." The guy blows on his tea, keeping his gaze mostly on the window and the storm outside. "We'll take a look around and won't bother you guys," he says, giving his companion a pointed look before disappearing into one of the sections. 

Steve knows it’s bad to stereotype but the assortment of strap-ons is not what guys like this usually go for, and his brain gets whiplash with the sudden onslaught of images he's not proud of. The tall guy wearing black and chains getting pegged by his tiny blonde girlfriend? It kind of suits him. He tries not to think about it.

They give them space to roam around the shop and whisper to each other while they finish their duties for the day and start closing up. 

"Guys? We need to close in fifteen minutes!" Steve would feel bad for kicking them out into the storm, but the rain clouds have moved, turning the onslaught into a light drizzle.

It's only after they leave that Steve looks at the tattoo on the palm of his hand. Surprised at what he sees, he shakes it experimentally. The d20 lands back on the same number.

“Hey, look.” He holds it up for Robin to see. “I’ve never rolled a twenty before.”

Three days pass and Steve can't stand it anymore.

He slaps his hand on the counter, making Robin yelp.

“You’re thinking about her again!" 

“I’m sorry!”

Steve shakes his head.

“No. Don't care, no sorries," he says with finality. “We’re finding her.”

"We go to the same school!" she protests. "I think. I mean, I'll run into her eventually!"

But Steve won't take that chance, tired of all the sighing from her brain, and decides to find the girl they've met. He figures the easiest place to find high schoolers is at the mall so that's where he goes.

With all the groups of friends and couples passing by, he feels even more like a loser than usual, being there all alone. But he's on a mission, so he won't let that deter him. 

That is, until one of the faces he sees in the crowd gives him a pause. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize what's familiar about one of the three girls coming at him, but when the memory hits, he panics. Letting his flight response take over, he ducks into the nearest open door to avoid his ex. 

After making sure the group has passed him without notice, he lets himself breathe. He's taking in the shop he stepped into, a record store full of tapes, vinyls, and band merch,  when a voice startles his adrenaline levels back up.

"Well, well, well. How the tables have turned. Running from a gaggle of women, are we?"

Steve turns to find the metalhead who ran into his shop a few days ago, smirking at him.

"Just one." He shakes his head, instinctively looking back behind the glass door. "Really don't feel like running into my ex right now."

"Must be happening a lot, huh?" The man leans on the counter that separates them. "My friend told me you're quite the casanova."

Steve spots his opportunity and grabs it.

"The girl from the other day?" he asks.

"Yes?" The guy's eyes narrow. 

“So you guys are friends?” he adds to clarify before he uncrosses his figurative fingers.

“Yes? Why else would we hang out?”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up under the man's suspicious stare.

“Well, you could be dating.”

The guy snorts.

“Yeah, I don't see the local freak bagging the head cheerleader. The fact that she can even stand me is enough.” Then his eyes narrow again. “Why? You interested in Chris?”

Chris.

“No? Well, kinda, but not… exactly.”

Steve has never felt less smooth in his whole life. And judging by the guy's expression, it shows. Whatever he was trying to sell, he wasn’t buying. His brain scrambles to salvage the situation and comes up with a painfully honest solution.

"Look, I just graduated and my friend group has fallen apart." He yells at his brain-to-mouth wires but keeps going anyway. "And you guys seem chill, I thought the four of us could hang out, or something?"

If the 'you suck' board still existed, he'd fill it out with tallies himself. 

The man doesn't seem convinced and he opens his mouth to tear him to shreds probably, but then somebody yells from the back of the store:

"Eddie! A little help, please!"

And the guy, Eddie, gets reminded he's at work.

"Coming!" he yells back, and on his way there, throws Steve a quick string of, "Great seeing you again, we'll think about it, we know where to find you, bye!" before disappearing behind the back door.

After such a disastrous interaction, the last thing Steve wants to do is go back out into the mall full of people. But staying here to risk Eddie looking at him like that again was the more humiliating option. He turns around, planning to lick his wounds at home before reporting his findings back to Robin. For the hundredth time since finding her, he wishes they couldn't read each other minds. Because all he can think of is making a complete loser idiot of himself in front of a cool metalhead dude, and he knows she won't let him live it down. Maybe the Scoops board will make a comeback after this.

“Chrissyyyyyy!”

“Eddieeeeee!”

The rest of the cheer squad does perfectly synchronized eye rolls when their captain jumps down the human pyramid to greet her friend.

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “You’re early. We’re not done yet.”

“I got some news.” He taps his fingers on the small partition between them, ignoring the cheer practice in progress. “Bad ones and good ones.”

“Bad first,” she says with a decisive nod.

Eddie opens his mouth but then frowns and closes it.

“It won’t make sense if you don’t hear the good news first.”

“Oh my god! Just spill it!”

“So, they’re almost surely not dating.”

“The sex shop guys?”

He nods.

“Okay, and the bad one?”

“Steve seems to be into you.”

“No!” she gasps, scandalized. Eddie snickers.

“Yeah. Sorry sweetie." His smile turns more apologetic.

Chrissy makes a face. Then she keeps making faces until Eddie can’t help but snort and slap her playfully.

“Stop! What are you thinking about?”

“I mean he’s kinda cute, but gives me repressed gay vibes.”

Eddie chokes but she keeps going.

“And his friend? His friend is just hot.”

“Ehh, I guess.” Eddie shakes his palm, making his friend roll her eyes.

“You’ll never understand the beauty of a woman in suspenders.”

“More women in suspenders for you then.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Chris! You going back or what?” one of the cheerleaders behind them yells out, barely containing her annoyance.

“I’m coming!” Chrissy yells back. She turns to her best friend, her soulmate, with a dazzling smile. “You joining in?”

“You know they hate it when I do,” he points out.

“And you love it that they hate it.” She smirks like the evil little gremlin she secretly is.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Eddie grins, climbing over the partition to join the cheerleading squad. A couple of girls groan, knowing what’s coming next but none of them dare to protest. If their captain’s soulmate wants to perform a perfect cheer routine, putting their months of practice to shame, there’s nothing they can do except blame the fates.

Eddie drops his leather jacket on the bleachers and does a couple of stretches in perfect sync with his friend. They grin at each other while mirroring each other’s movements without a word.

“If only you could read my mind during math exams like that,” Chrissy teases.

“Okay, shut up.” He rolls his eyes with fake annoyance. Yeah, it would be convenient, but he got a cheerleading routine memorized in his muscles instead. He’d be complaining if Chrissy wasn’t so fun to be around.

Despite his involuntary knowledge of the routine, none of the other girls fully trust him, so he usually ends up working mostly with Chris, tossing her in the air and catching her when needed.

“You should join us for the game,” she asks as always, after jumping down from his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” he answers as always, patting her head. She huffs, swatting his hand away and fixing up her ponytail, now loose from practice.

“Wanna go grab pizza?” she asks casually and he immediately goes into suspish mode. Chrissy rarely proposes eating out together. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great that his girlie is starting to eat better again, but… He doesn’t let his suspicion show when he asks:

“Sure. Any place in mind?”

She hums, but it’s a short hum. Very 'i-already-had-a-place-in-mind' like.

“The one with the Ninja Turtles poster?”

“You mean the one across the adult toys store?” He raises his eyebrows.

She blushes a fierce red and he knows it’s not because of the sex shop thing. He grins, wide and teasing.

“You wanna see that girl again.”

“Maybe,” she huffs defensively. “Okay, yes, so what?”

“So nothing.” He shrugs innocently. “Grab your things and we’ll go.”

“Yes!” she pumps her hands in victory, a dorky move Eddie’s proud to have taught her, and runs off to grab her backpack. She snatches his jacket before he can, overly eager to get moving. “Let’s go!”

He can’t help but laugh while trotting after her towards his van. 

The inside of the store is brighter than they remembered, what with the sky being clear this time. It looks surprisingly normal until you take a better look at the contents of the boxes on display. A sex shop during daylight just lacks a certain ambiance.

The preppy-looking guy behind the counter doesn't match the vibe either.

At the sound of customers, the guy looks up.

"Hello! Oh, it's you guys." He visibly relaxes, realizing it's not his usual run-of-the-mill customers. 

"It's us indeed." Eddie smiles, confidently strutting up to the counter. "Has anyone ever told you you look out of place here?"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you not to judge someone's sex life by their looks?"

Eddie raises his hands placatingly.

"Fair enough, man. I'll back off." However, the comment made him insanely curious about what a guy like that would be into. Behind him, Chrissy gently kicks him in the ankle, prompting him to take a look around. "Alone today?"  he asks with a curious tilt of his head.

"Yeah, Robin is tutoring after school today. Why?" His eyes narrow. 

"No reason, no reason." 

Chrissy kicks him harder and he smiles through the pain.

“What is she tutoring in? I’m having trouble passing the last grade.”

It takes Steve a moment to answer, like he's measuring how much information he can give away.

“Foreign languages.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Eddie snaps his fingers.

“Perfect! Can I get her number or something?”

The kick is so hard this time it jostles him forward and he glares back at his friend. It also attracts Steve’s attention to Chrissy.

He smiles at her, a bit unsure and shy. It rubs Eddie the wrong way and he can feel his hackles rise. 

“Chris, right?”

“Chrissy,” she corrects, slightly scrunching her nose.

“Oh, sorry. It’s nice to see you again, Chrissy.” He smiles, more genuine this time.

“Uh, you too. Steve.”

Eddie clears his throat, hoping to come off as rude as possible.

Steve looks back at him and his expression shifts immediately. It’s almost a scoff.

“Listen, I don’t just give off my best friend’s number to random guys. But if you give me yours, I’ll pass it on.”

“Works for me,” Eddie says with the tightest approximation of a smile he can manage. “Do you have something I can write on?”

Steve looks around for the pen and notepad that are never in their designated spots and never together. He finds them under the keyboard.

“Here.”

But Eddie isn’t taking the items from him. Steve wiggles them like he would attract a pet or a child, but it doesn’t work. He’s about to make a snarky remark when the guy speaks up first.

“You have a D20 tattoo.”

“Huh?”

Steve is losing his mind.

But then he remembers that he does indeed have one and it’s partially visible when he’s holding out a pen like that.

“Ah, right.” He opens up his fingers and shakes his palm, causing the dice to roll. “It’s my soulmate mark.”

“Dude, that’s so dope.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with marvel and Steve’s throat tightens. “You rolled a twenty, does that mean anything?”

Steve shrugs.

“I don’t know. One of my friends is a Dungeons and Dragons nerd and he told me it’s a luck thing? He freaked out pretty badly when I kept rolling ones on vacation, but nothing happened.” He smiles, fondly remembering Dustin’s panic. 

Eddie hums.

“Man, having a functional D20 tattoo would be so fucking cool. I’m kinda jealous here.”

Steve snorts.

“Yeah, Dustin told me that too.”

Eddie finally takes the writing utensils from him, eyeing him contemplatively.

“I’m guessing you’re not a DnD nerd yourself? Considering you get your info from a friend?”

Steve chuckles.

"Yeah, no. Though I do get a lot of brain chatter from my soulmate."

"Brain chatter?" Eddie picks on curiously. 

"Uh, yeah. I dream up whole campaigns and know lore I've never really studied. The kids go bonkers over it."

"Kids?"

Eddie's feeling both stupid and entranced by the guy. 

"The DnD nerd? Dustin?" Steve says with annoyance that poorly covers up his fondness. "He comes with a full set of other nerds. A party, if you will. They just started high school and no, it's not weird that I know them. I used to babysit them and they just kind of..." He waved his hand. "Stuck on. Like parasites.

Eddie barks out a laugh. 

"They sound delightful."

"They have their moments," Steve admits. Then they both stare at the number Eddie has scribbled on the piece of paper handed to him. 

"So uh, see you around?"

"Yeah." Steve smiles. It's genuine and pleasant this time. But then, to Eddie's chagrin, he looks to the side. "You too Chrissy. Come over anytime. Maybe you need some tutoring too?"

"Uh, thanks, I'm good. Good luck finding a DnD nerd soulmate," she says, her tone weird. Eddie can't blame her. He wouldn't like being so blatantly hit on either. He could already feel her tugging on his jacket. 

"Thank you," Steve says, smile turning a bit wistful. His eyes turn back to Eddie, away from his poor, sapphic-leaning soulmate. Good. He waves the note with the numbers. "I'll let her know you're interested but no promises. And hey, if you're into DnD too maybe you'd be interested in DMing for a bunch of freshmen?" 

"I'll think about it," Eddie manages, slowly backing away, the force behind Chrissy's pull increasing. "Thanks, man. And, uh, good luck with the soulmate thing too!"

"Thanks."

The doors close in front of him and it feels like a curtain has just separated him from a whimsical spectacle.

"What the fuck was that?" Chrissy and Eddie ask each other in unison, albeit in vastly different tones. 

"Huh?" Eddie frowns at his friend. She had already turned around and was pulling him towards the pizzeria across the street.

"Don't huh me! You forgot I was there!"

"I didn't!" He kind of did. For a teeny tiny second.

"You were clearly flirting with him."

"What? No, I wasn't!" he bristles. He'd know if he was flirting with someone.

She looks back at him sternly when they reach a table of her choosing. She plops down heavier than a tiny cheerleader should be able to and takes on a mocking, high voice.

"Oh man, I'm so jealous of your soulmate. Yes, I will play with your kids. Here's my number."

"I said no such thing," he hisses, sitting down across from her. 

"Might as well." She shrugs. "You were interested in him."

"Well, he's an interesting person!" Eddie defends.

"Yeah, the preppy, vanilla high school heartthrob that is clearly not into the same stuff as you, other than his connection to his soulmate," she deadpans back. "Wouldn't have guessed."

"Shut up," he huffs, crossing his arms.

"Eddie, he asked you to hang out with his kids, himself," she points out.

"These are not his kids."

"You're so focused on the wrong details here. Do I have to wingman for you as well? Because I will. Just say the word."

Eddie closes his eyes and sighs. He knows his friend means well but it's just too much.

"Chrissy, stop. I don't need someone who has a soulmate with a matching, kick-ass D20 tattoo waiting for him somewhere. Probably a busty, nerdy girl, too—"

"Ew."

"Yeah, I know. He just seems interesting, and honestly? Expanding the party would be cool. So I might take him on the DMing thing I guess. But please, for the love of gods." He makes fierce eye contact with his friend. "No matchmaking. No wingmaning. Or wingwomaning. No setting Eddie up with a probably-heterosexual dude, who is probably into you."

A shudder goes down Chrissy's lithe body.

"Please don't remind me."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I'm really hoping I'm right about his friend." She drums her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "Maybe it's stupid but I feel like it would magically solve everything. He'd get over me, I'd get to bone his friend, and you'd get a new friend with a kick-ass nerd tattoo." She beams at him and he just can't help but laugh at his little ray of sunshine.

"I hope you're right too." 

[kitchen-spoon]

Chrissy dresses up as Rapunzle, Cinderlla, and sleeping beauty for princess parties for kids as her day job while being the lead singer for metal band corroded coffin.

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy sunday! Thanks for the tags @artsyunderstudy @nausikaaa @monbons and @bookishbroadwayandblind !!

The writing bug has bit me. I was worried all my writing inspiration would die back down to nothing after the Countdown, but that has not happened! I've been feeling so creative lately, and I've done more work on The Way We Are in the past few days than I have in months so that feels good. Hopefully, soon i can finish writing it and start posting again! (but no snippets from that today, i fear i've shown too much already)

Also, I've thought up a new idea for COBB this year! I learned my lesson from last time, and am writing something shorter and starting it earlier, but I'm really excited about my idea! Plus, I'm working on some fics for my other main fandom (Stranger Things), and have been having a lot of fun with it.

Snippets from one Stranger Things fic, and from a Secret Project under the cut.

Stranger Things:

“Come to the party with me,” Chrissy asks, not for the first time tonight. She puts her hands on her hips and makes a perfect pouty face. The expression combined with her gaze, Robin almost says yes—almost. “Come on, you know that parties aren’t my thing.”  “Pretty please?” Her pout intensifies. Robin should look away. “No.” Robin can’t look away. “Pretty please with a cherry on top?” “Nope,” Robin says, popping the p. “I’ll do your makeup for you,” she pleads. “I’ll even let you borrow my clothes. Please? Jason’s gonna be a whiny bitch all night, and I don't want to go alone.” “If you think Jason’s going to be rude, you don’t have to go.”

Secret Project:

“Yeah, this’ll make a great letter,” I say to no one. “Dear Baz, I’ve been watching shitty TV and making messes with my new limbs. Everything’s fucking hunky dory. Love, your magickless, disaster-of-a-boyfriend, Simon Snow.” He’d probably send me a break-up letter in response to that. I read through Baz’s letter again and wish that I could still do magic so I could smooth the wrinkles. Good as new or Pressed paper would do the trick. Although, even if I had my magic, I’d probably end up wiping the words off with the folds. I was useless with magic, and I’m even more useless without.

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[penny00dreadful]

Okay, okay, okay listen.

Remember when we were all obsessed with Steddie Legally Blonde a while back? Yes, I’m still thinking about it, leave me alone. And I adore everything I’ve read. It’s all so fantastic.

But I had a thought because what if we switched it up a little? I’m going mainly off of the musical here, so bear with. 

So what if instead of having Steddie as Elle and Emmett, we instead have them as Paulette and UPS Guy/Kyle??? Like??? It fits, right???

But then, but THEN who do we have as Elle/Emmett?

Buckingham.

No, but just think of it! 

Or I guess you don’t really need to because I’ve thought of it enough for all of us and it goes like this:

(OMG you guys I blacked out and when I woke up this thing was 3.1k long written over a few hours. I haven't edited this at all so please be gentle about typos/tense changes etc. The fever just took me.)

Chrissy is your quintessential girly girl. She is Elle Woods. She’s blonde, pretty, cheerleader, very feminine and happy where she is in life, President of her Sorority with her besties by her side and her guy who is… well he’s as good as any guy could be, right?

Jason is handsome, rich, well connected, he treats her with affection and he humours her when she has some pretty wild, out there ideas. 

But then it happens and they break up because apparently having a girly girl for a wife just wouldn’t look good if he’s gonna live his life the way he wants to. Lawyer, his own practice, running for office. 

Apparently her blonde hair and boobs would hold him back which, what the fuck??? 

What does that have to do with anything?

They love each other, right? That surface stuff isn’t supposed to matter. At all! They’re supposed to be together no matter what because they… they love each other?

Well fuck that noise, no one tells Chrissy Cunningham she’s too fucking blonde to do anything which is a hypocritical ass thing to say because has Jason looked in the fucking mirror recently?

Different fucking rules, apaprently. 

Well, no more.

She’s gonna fuck up law school right along side him and she’s gonna wear fucking pink while doing it too!

And like, everything is going fine. 

Chrissy’s not stupid, she knows how she’s perceived by people before they get to know her. 

Vapid, bimbo, perky, blonde.

Like that’s an insult.

It’s just harder now that she’s away from her girls, gays and theys back home. And everyone here seems to think that the best way to live their lives is to look boring as shit while doing it along with tearing each other down.

She fucking hates it, but she’s determined to see it through. 

It helps that she seems to have found the one person on the whole of the fucking east coast who actually listens to what’s coming out of her mouth rather than just paying attention to the hair on her head or staring at her tits.

Robin is so strange.

She’s different in such a refreshing way, it’s like being able to breathe clean air for the first time in years.

And she’s fucking sharp. And sweet. And so, so comforting. 

Chrissy would have never managed to survive the depression of those first few weeks without her.

And like, she’s not ignorant to the fact that Robin sometimes does look at her boobs but at the same time it just feels different coming from a woman than it does a man. It doesn’t feel so objectifying.

Instead of putting Chrissy on edge it makes her feel a little smug. A little proud of herself, it makes her feel attractive and desired in a way she hasn’t felt in a very long time. 

Is that sexist? To prefer the attentions of a woman over a man when both do it just fine for her?

Chrissy’s not exactly sure, but she knows she enjoys it when it’s coming from Robin.

So maybe it’s a Robin thing. 

Chrissy honestly thinks things are looking up for her. 

Until Jason introduces Nicole. 

His fucking fiancee???

It’s been, like, four months since they broke up.

Nicole hates her guts, she can tell. She thinks she’s some two braincelled idiot who got into Harvard on daddy’s dime and needs to be babied through the simplest of tasks while not understanding how condescending everyone’s been the whole time.

Chrissy fucking understands. She’s been through it all before, but back then she had people by her side. It’s all so fucking childish. The world already hates women enough, Chrissy desperately doesn’t want to be at another womans throat, over a man no less, but Nicole doesn’t seem to feel the same way.

She’s ambitious and cut-throat and dedicated and a little bit terrifying. 

Apart from Robin, she’s on her fucking own out here.

And she needs something. 

Something of home to bring some light back into her life.

So she gets in her car and just drives around the streets hoping something will catch her eye. 

And it does. 

Some tiny little hole in the wall salon with a pride flag out the front that she’s immediately drawn to because god damn it she misses her friends. The girls, the gays, the theys.

As soon as she pulls over she feels both simultaneously like she’s come home and she definitely won’t fit in here, but she’s so emotionally raw at this stage it all kinda ends up converging on her and now she’s standing in front of a mostly empty salon and there’s a guy looking at her and she’s just fucking crying.

Through her blurry vision she can see the guy approaching and she really fucking hopes this isn’t gonna turn into a thing because she just does not have any spoons left to deal with some creep right now. 

But he seems to sense how he’s coming off because he becomes a little more effeminate from one step to the next.

“You okay, honey?” He asks, big brown eyes wide with concern and a hand covered in rings hovering over her shoulder, not touching. He has a cigarette in the other hand, held away to keep the smoke from reaching her, his arms covered in ink but Chrissy wants nothing more than a cigarette right now.

Or, that’s kind of a lie, but she’d love one in all honesty. She hasn’t smoked in so long. 

The guy spots her eyeing it, sticking the cigarette back between his plush lips and needing to use both hands to pull his carton from his pants considering they’re so tight.

“Bad day?” He hands her one and Chrissy ends up breaking down all over again.

She tells him that it hasn’t just been a bad day, but a bad half a year, really. She tells him all about Harvard and Jason and her professors and Robin and by the end of her ranting they’re sitting back in the breakroom of the salon. They guy’s name is Eddie, she learns and despite his mean and scary exterior Chrissy thinks he might be the gentles person she’s met in this whole god forsaken city.

He holds her hands between his and listens to her. Actually hears her talk and pays attention and is concerned and attentive and she loves him for it. 

He helps her find her confidence again, at least for the rest of the day. They commiserate about how they both stick out like sore thumbs in their communities and how people need to just kinda get over it.

He encourages her not to let the normies win, do go hang out with Robin, to go kick ass and she’s just wondering how on earth she can ever repay the favour when they hear

“Knock, knock.” 

Coming from the front of the salon.

Eddie’s whole face drains of colour before immediately turning red and he bolts up from his chair, stumbling out of the staffroom and moving back behind the receptionists desk.

Chrissy gets to watch in real time as all of Eddie’s incredible confidence and easy lightheartedness disappears into a vat of nerves mostly hidden by cheeky flirtation as he twirls a lock of hair around his finger and bats his eyelashes at the Hot UPS Guy who looks equally as charmed. 

When the guy, Steve, has to get back to his route, Eddie practically melts against the desk as soon as he’s out of sight. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs help.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at her but smiles anyway. “I had that handled just fine.”

Over the next few months, she and Eddie get closer, Eddie and Steve stay exactly where they were that first day and she and Robin are quickly approaching best friends level.

But Chrissy is starting to come to terms with the fact that maybe she wants a little more than to be best girly-girl friends with Robin and maybe she wants to stick her tongue down her throat about it. 

The two of them are practically attached at the hip, spending all day at classes together, alternating between their respective rooms to study late into the night, ending up in the same bed together and waking up together in the morning. 

Chrissy is almost, completely, entirely sure that this is all very not platonic but it’s so difficult to tell.

She’d be constantly sleeping over with her friends back home, hugging, kisses on cheeks, cuddling in bed or when watching movies, just girly things.

But this feels different. Is it different?? Or is this just how Robin is with all her female friends, the same way it’s always been how Chrissy was with her friends back home. How can she tell if it’s going from platonic to romantic??

And all of that needs to go on the backburner anyway because they’re being put on a real life, for realsies you guys case. And if they fuck up this case they could be at fault for someone spending the rest of their fucking life in prison for something they didn’t do??

Unacceptable.

And after Chrissy finds out their client used to be on the same cheer team as her? It was all over. No way was she gonna let her go to prison just because everyone thinks a pretty young woman couldn’t possibly love someone a little older than her. 

Not on Chrissy’s watch. 

But first she has to deal with Robin’s wardrobe because they professor is insistent that all the women wear skirts and tights and Robin is not having it.

Neither is Chrissy to be fair, so she takes Robin out to the most lavish place she can, decks them both out in the fiercest looking pantsuits they can get their hands on, refusing to back down.

It comes as a surprise to both of them when Nicole stands with them in solidarity as well and now their professor is both outnumbered and losing his arguments with only Jason on his side about this and they fucking win.

It’s only a small win but it still feels fantastic. 

Riding her high of winning that small fight, she bursts into the salon and informs Eddie that he is going to either kiss or ask out Steve the next time he sees him and when Eddie reacts like she just said she was going to shave all of his hair off she refuses to hear it. 

Because the thing is Eddie is pretty, really pretty and she knows that Steve knows it, but she doesn’t think that Eddie himself is really aware of it. And despite his prettiness, he’s all awkward elbows and knees. 

So she gives him some tips and shows him how to highlight certain things about himself, the long legs, the tattooed arms, the hip bones. Even his cute little bum. She teaches him how to subtly pull at his clothes in conversation so some skin is exposed or his tiny little waist is highlighted. She teaches him how to use his eyes to go in for the kill.

He doesn’t seem to think it’ll work but she is almost certain it will. 

And it’s confirmed for her when she gets a call later that night from Eddie who sounds fucking over the moon and completely bewildered by the fact that Steve likes him back??? Has done for months?? And they had some incredible dirty nasty sex in the salon after it closed for the night and how they’re going to the movies tomorrow??

Eddie swears he’s gonna send her the biggest fuck off fruit basket he can find. 

Everything is looking up for her, especially after she has such a major win in court, figuring out one of the prosecutors witnesses had perjured himself on the stand (without outing him to the whole damn court, thankfully).

Or at least everything was looking up for her until she found herself alone in a room with her professor and she felt the energy in the room shift before it happened. 

His hands were on her before she could do anything about it and she cracked him across the face for it before she could even think about what this could do to her legal career going forward. 

Because that was the reality of it, wasn’t it? 

Either allow herself to get assaulted or destroy her career before it even started. 

She didn’t know when her priority had shifted from getting Jason back to actually pursuing this as a future career. But she had found to her own surprise she loved it. She adored it actually. 

And now…

Now it would all be gone. 

Jason had seen, of course he had and he was less than kind about it because apparently it made more sense that she had fucked her way into Harvard than had actually been smart enough to get there on her own. 

She couldn’t stomach anything Nicole could possibly have to say to her but if the way she was glaring at Jason with barely concealed rage after that comment was anything to go by, Chrissy didn’t need to worry too much about that.

She just wanted to go. To get out. She needed to get out. And she would have gotten away scott free if Robin hadn’t been hanging around waiting for her.

Robin’s face broke into a bright smile but that quickly slipped away when she saw the state Chrissy was in. She was all sweet concern and care and affection but Chrissy couldn’t fucking deal with it at that moment, she couldn’t face her.

She couldn’t face Robin who would find out what a fool of herself she’d made believing in Chrissy, when Chrissy had thrown all of their hard work away.

Because no one would ever fucking see her as a person. She was just a piece of ass.

So she ran.

She didn’t even realise where she was running to until she was standing outside the salon doors again. 

It was late, they were closed, of course they were, why was she here?

She was standing outside the door crying again like she had been the first time and it was all just so fucking stupid-

“Chrissycakes?”

She was enveloped in Eddie’s arms before she could even blink, being ushered inside and steered back to the staffroom, same as that first time. 

There were beer bottles and take out containers over the table and Steve sitting at the table and oh, she’d interrupted something hadn’t she? 

What a fucking way to officially meet one of her best friends new boyfriend right?

But they were so sweet. 

They sat and listened while she spilled the whole thing, offering at different points to hunt down her professor for her or slash his tires or lose all of his mail or whatever and she was forced to giggle through the tears.

But she shook her head in the end. She was tired. She was sick of having to defend herself constantly. 

She needed… she needed to go back to where she belonged. 

And she was about to. 

She was about to leave the salon, swear to keep in contact with Eddie because god damn it she loved him now and she was ready to run.

But then there was a hammering at the door and Chrissy poked her head out to see Nicole standing there looking like she was on a fucking crusade. 

And… was that…?

Robin was standing behind her, looking like she was just trying not to get in Nicole’s way.

Eddie grumbled to himself about changing the damn salons opening hours if this was to continue but he unlocked the door anyway.

Nicole burst in all fire and determination, shoving her finger directly in Chrissy’s face.

“I hated you. But god fucking damn it if you didn’t prove to me that this is the career you belong in. And I refuse to stand by and see an admirable woman of your smarts and calibre get run over by some small dicked professor with a receding hairline. You’re so much more than that. So c’mon. We’re breaking through that fucking glass ceiling if it kills us.”

Holy shit.

Robin pulled her into a tight hug, warm and comforting and a little too long to be platonic, running a hand through her hair. 

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with Chris, but… you deserve to be in that courtroom.” She muttered into her ear and Chrissy could do nothing but nod into Robin’s neck.

She heard Eddie sigh behind her. “Okay if we’re doing this then… I need to make a few calls.”

A few days later Chrissy made her triumphant return to the courtroom. Everyone was there to support her. Eddie, Steve, her besties from back home that Eddie had called, telling them it was a friend emergency and so of course they all came right away along with Robin and Nicole bracketing her on each side. 

And while she could tell the court wasn’t taking her rants on hair care very seriously, when she finally came out with the verbal crackdown, proving the witness was actually the murderer, the gasps from the gallery were enough to feed her for years to come. 

When all was said and done at the celebration later that night, she found herself being approached by Jason.

He told her it was a mistake to let her go, to discard her the way he had and she agreed that yes it was. But his mistakes weren’t her problem anymore. And from the look of it they weren’t Nicole’s problem either. 

Jason surprisingly took it well enough, mentioning that he never really felt the same passion for law that she so clearly possessed. 

She wished him luck with finding what he wanted to do.

But now.

Now she needed to find Robin. 

Chrissy couldn’t take it anymore.

So weaving through the people around her, she grabbed at Robin’s hand, dragging her away from Steve who she had become inseparable with and pushing her into the hallway.

Robin didn’t even have a chance to ask what was happening before Chrissy was on her, pressing her into a wall, holding her close with her hands on either side of her face, kissing her with so much longing and elation and joy and happiness that when she pulled away Robin looked completely dazed. 

Robin blinked slowly a few times before her face broke into a wide grin. 

“Me too.”

[devondespresso]

This Comfort

T | 4.5k words | Stobissy (Platonic stobin x Chrissy) | canon divergent season 4 rewrite, pre-relationship, hurt/comfort, happy ending, weird-as-shit stobin | cws: referenced eating disorder, implied depression, implied suicidal ideation, referenced drugs

happy holidays @stellarspecter !!! hows it feel to be THE reason i like this rarepair so much that i had to hold myself back from trying to do a whole chrissy lives s4 rewrite? I tried to be subtle but i also just HAD to reread your stuff while brainstorming this, hope you like it!!! 💕💕💕

<< dividers by @/saradika-graphics >>

Chrissy kind of wants to cry. 

Her body always seems to want to do that at the first hint of peace she can find. In a bathroom stall, at the rotting picnic table behind the school, and now in the basement at Nancy Wheeler’s house, surrounded by still, sleeping bodies. She can’t help but find their presence soothing, even if their warmth doesn’t reach the cold vinyl of her sleeping bag, even if the gentle rhythm of their breathing can’t be heard over the sound of Olivia Newton-John’s voice clogging her ears.

Would the song even work if she got sick of hearing it so much? Can any song keep her safe if she keeps associating music with life-or-death?

Chrissy’s supposed to be sleeping, or supposed to be trying, at least. But she can’t hear the huffs, can’t feel any warmth, can’t even smell over the stench of highschool boy’s body spray— so Chrissy doesn’t try to sleep, even if she has a comparatively easy song to fall asleep to. She just watches, still as if she were out like they are, watching those tiny movements in the bodies around her.

Chests rise and fall slowly, languid unlike any other moment from the day. Some people twitch or stir—just barely—as their bodies dream, hopefully of something far removed from everything that’s happening now. It’s only half the room in her line of sight, but something about watching even just a part of the life around her makes it easier to feel the rest of it there.

It’s nice. Really nice, compared to the past twenty-four hours. And for some twisted reason, that makes tears prick at Chrissy’s eyes.

Her song starts again, a rhythmic melody that had made her sway in her seat the first dozen times she listened to it today. A melody that somehow—even after literal hours of hearing it over and over and over and over and over—still takes her to a time unblemished enough to keep her from letting Vecna end it all.

The beginning instruments all cut off so Olivia can start singing, new instruments coming in to replace them, but they’re not the same. Chrissy swallows, but a tear still falls, tickling her skin down towards her ear before it stops, falling and soaking into the flattened pillow that smells like the same musty body spray as the rest of this cruddy basement.

“Chrissy,” a voice whispers from behind her, said like it isn’t the first time they’ve called, barely audible over her music. Chrissy pushes up slightly, just enough to look behind her, to find Steve sitting up and keeping watch on the couch, leaning towards Chrissy as much as he can with Robin sleeping on his lap. His eyes stay focused on her through the dark, looking maybe for rolled back eyes or waiting for her to start muttering in tongues, but Chrissy only looks back and waits.

“You okay?” he whispers through the dark, again just barely loud enough. Chrissy nods to him, and turns down her music a notch or two.

Steve keeps looking like she never responded. Maybe—hopefully—because it's too dark to see and not because he expects a different answer with enough waiting. Chrissy swallows a lump in her throat, and answers again.

“I'm okay.”

Steve hears her—he has to—but he keeps looking at her that same way. Attentive, and a little on edge.

Chrissy slides one side of her headphones off her ear so she can hear her own whispers.

“I’m fine, I promise.” She says, loud enough that he has to hear her—or believe her—yet still low enough to mask the way her throat tightens around the words.

Steve hums, a soft thing that blends with the sounds of the room, but Chrissy can make it out.

“Come up here.” He whispers, nodding over to the small sliver of couch left next to him, just big enough to fit her. Or, big enough if she were like Robin and could just half-lay on pretty people without feeling electricity seize her body from head to toe. Chrissy opens her mouth to politely decline and save both of them the awkwardness, but Steve picks that moment to look away—look down to Robin—and lift her ever so slightly, ever so gently, to scoot them over and make the space next to him more comfortable.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Chrissy whispers but finds herself getting up anyway, padding over quietly as Steve settles, Robin slumping back down onto his lap without stirring.

“It’s no big deal,” He mutters, a soft smile pulling at his lips, still looking down at Robin, “She sleeps like the dead like this.”

Chrissy hums, and Steve looks up.

“Or– like a baby, I guess is a better word for it right now.”

“It’s fine.” Chrissy insists, taking a seat next to him, settling into the corner with a respectable distance between them– a distance that the rest of her doesn’t seem to pick up on, unfortunately, but respectable at the very least.

Steve hums and watches her, trying to do it subtly out of the corner of his eye, but even just a day around the real Steve is enough for her to know what worry looks like on him.

Fortunately for her, he doesn’t push. And when Chrissy busies herself with getting comfortable in her new couch corner, Steve looks away, absently combing through Robin’s hair as he plays casual.

“Rough sleeping with music always in your ears?” Steve asks, a lightness of humor there that she wishes was the only thing tied to that question.

“Not too bad, actually.” she says, pairing it with a little smile and hoping it’ll convince them both that she’s alright. “Especially out of all the other songs from Grease. The walkman itself is probably more annoying.”

“Yeah, my ears do not envy you there.” Steve huffs, smiling a little, making Chrissy’s smile come a little easier before they both run out of things to say and the levity falls off both their faces. Chrissy’s dropping faster with no eyes on her to keep up the charade for, while Steve’s falls slowly, slips into neutral as he gets caught up in thought once again.

Chrissy gets to keep a few moments to herself before she catches Steve glancing at her again through the corner of her eye. She pretends not to notice, holds her neutrality for a few nauseating seconds before she sighs, closing her eyes and drawing her knees to her chest in a way that turns the subtle glance into full-force attention.

“Do you think…” She starts, but finds the words stopping before they can get out of her head. Does he think she’ll die? Obviously he’s not going to tell her if he does.

“Eh, sometimes.” Steve answers, shrugging lightly in a way that's playful but not flippant enough to derail the conversation.

Chrissy huffs from the tinge of amusement, then tries again.

“Have you wondered what would happen if we got tired of our songs?” 

“Not yet, to be honest. But I figure we’d try to find new ones.” He says, quick enough that it feels like a simple answer to him. But even still he considers it, even if it’s just to show her he’s taking her worries seriously. “I mean, if the whole point is picking a song that reminds you about what’s good in life, I’d figure there’s got to be at least a decent handful of them that’d work.”

Chrissy hums, resting her head onto her knees as she considers. It feels like a simple enough thing, just find songs that remind you of good things, but as she combs through the library in her head, she’s not sure she has as many of those as the others do. Or at the very least, not ones that haven't been sullied by other memories or the things she’s learned since then. Birthday parties with a Chrissy that didn’t think twice about what was in those cakes, sleepovers with girls that had a lot more to say in the halls than they did in their bedrooms. She should count herself lucky that out of all the songs she had loved, she still had one of her favorites.

Though she supposes she should also count herself lucky for even being alive right now. If circumstances were different, she might’ve genuinely felt it.

“To be honest, I’m more worried about how Max doesn’t seem bothered by listening to the same thing nonstop.” Steve chimes in again, that sweet little note of humor back, and though it still makes her smile—truly smile, at both the humor and the intent behind it—it can’t fully lift her out of the headspace she keeps crawling into.

Still Chrissy hums along with him, the sweetness she puts into her voice just as erosive as the added sugars she keeps an eye out for.

“The magic of a really good artist, I guess.”

“Maybe. Though I know I’d still get tired of it no matter who’s voice I’m blasting.” Steve replies, tone light as if he didn’t notice how fake her tone was, and just that thought grants Chrissy an ounce of real levity.

“Even Freddie Mercury.” Chrissy asks with teasing scrutiny.

“I plead the fifth.” Steve smiles mischievously, and when Chrissy raises a suspicious eyebrow at him, he lets out a small but genuine laugh that Chrissy wants to mirror desperately.

Steve hushes himself quickly enough, but Robin still stirs in his lap, groaning and tucking her face down into the denim of Steve’s jeans as if they were somehow comfortable enough to put her back to sleep. But then again, Chrissy figures they don’t have to be, as Steve’s hand finds it’s way back to her hair again, carding his fingers gently and intentionally as Robin stills and soon returns to slow, sedated breathing.

Steve sighs, not tense or aggravated, just restful, like the mood of before was so calm that any change in it counted as disturbance. And then within seconds, he’s back, glancing once over to Chrissy again before looking back at Robin as he continues.

“Rob’s probably the type to be fine listening to most of her music over and over.” He hums, “Not that she needs it. The second she even thought that music might be it she shoved all the tapes she could find into her bag—including our manager’s, actually—”

“Your manager’s?”

“Yeah, Keith’s in for a bit of a surprise soon.” Steve laughs again, “Point is, though,” Steve looks back at her with a new, almost concerning level of sincerity once again veiled as small-talk. “Robin has a pretty good stash of other music in her bag and I’ve got a handful in the glovebox, too, so if you want to pick a couple backups to keep on you…” He shrugs instead of finishing with any extra nod to the favor he’s offering, and Chrissy’s conscience appreciates the discretion.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” she mutters, figuring at the very least that it wouldn’t hurt to look, maybe pick a couple that’d sound nice, even if she doubts anything from after 79’ would spark any good memories, the thought itself is sweet enough to make her sincerely grateful. “Thank you.”

“‘Course. It’s all up to you, just know it's an option.”

Chrissy hums and nods, not really wanting to continue the conversation but also lacking anything else to start talking about next.

Really, she only gets a few seconds to think about it before Steve’s glancing her way again, eyes lingering to study her and somehow sneaking inside towards the softest parts of her, all right under her nose.

“You’re doing good, y’know?” Steve says, quiet as anything else they’ve said tonight, but Chrissy finds it deafening. “This shit sucks… so much. But your still here, still sticking together, still keeping up with the kids—which, believe me, is a feat in of itself.” He huffs to himself, before glancing back to Chrissy with raw compassion. “I know all of it’s… smothering, almost. Too big and too stressful, but you’re doing great, alright? And we’re gonna make it work out.”

He’s lying, obviously, Chrissy hasn’t done jack-shit and Steve just wants to make her feel better– so Chrissy nods—on reflex, almost—because she knows to take a compliment—to take comfort—when it's being given to her. She knows so she nods and tries to just take Steve’s words with a polite smile and a polite nod but–

Her eyes water and tears fall too fast, too many goddamned tears coming and spillingout and she tries—God, she tries— to keep them back and to smile and show him it worked, shes good now, thank you—but she’s failing, failing miserably, so she falls back on breathing– breathing normally and praying he can’t see her crying through the dark–

“Chrissy, I mean it.” Steve says, with the softness of sincerity that—regardless of whether she believes him or not—breaks through the last of her defenses, letting a small, pitiful sound choke its way out of her throat.

“Chris–”

Chrissy stands—giving up on looking okay in favor of being quiet—and wipes her face, looking around for the bathroom door that Nancy said would be down here.

“Chrissy, hey–” Steve whispers, a hand finding her arm gently—not grabbing, just touching—and while it tempts her so heavily, instinct leads her away.

“It’s fine– don’t wake Robin–” Chrissy chokes on her own words and aborts, going towards the bathroom, ignoring Steve trying to whisper-call after her, ignoring how he whispers to himself before the couch squeaks, ignoring his footsteps coming up until they’re right behind her– and Chrissy stops and flings around and–

Turning catches Steve off guard—enough to stop him a foot or so away—and makes him retract an outstretched arm.

“Chrissy, it’s okay.” Steve insists, struggling for words to say next and doing nothing to keep it from taking over his face. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“Stop.” Chrissy says– tries to say, even though it comes out wet and weak and crackly– “You’re fine, I promise–”

It doesn’t sound final but it’s all Chrissy can get out—is all that she really needs to. Tears keep coming like she’s a broken faucet and Steve’s still standing there—already knows she’s crying and isn’t going to ignore it—so she just covers her face with her hands, cold fingers cooling unruly flames of embarrassment, and tries catching her breath.

“Wha’s…?” 

Chrissy doesn’t try to recognise the voice, just jolts up at the new sound and finds Robin up and walking towards them, going slow and rubbing her face like a rough morning.

“Rob, now’s not–”

“Are you crying?” Robin says as she drops her hand and gets a barely decent look at Chrissy, voice sounding suddenly wide awake, face skipping confusion and going straight to concern as she turns to check Steve next, “Are you– no, no you're– ok, good, so–” She turns back to Chrissy within another blink. “Are you okay? Or– no, stupid question.”

“No,” Chrissy says, but then Robin’s eyes flash with guilt, “No, no, I– not stupid question, I’m okay, I promise, I–”

“That’s debatable.” Steve interrupts, as kindly as he probably can.

“I am.” Chrissy says before heaving a massive breath and pushing her hands across her face again, all to get herself in any way capable of explaining, “It’s not your fault– or yours, or anyones! I’m not mad or sad or upset or anything– I’m just crying!” Chrissy pauses for another breath, then finishes—with more control than before— “Just crying. And crying in front of people is embarrassing, so…”

Steve and Robin both stay silent, gears turning trying to figure out what to say or do next, and while Chrissy does feel a little bad, a small part of her says they were asking for it.

“I cry a lot.” Robin says, in what seems like a reflex at first, but she keeps going even after she seems to realize what she’s saying, “I cry all the time, like, constantly– or not actually really that frequently but when I do it’s like an absolute behemoth amount of crying, and I love crying– or well, maybe not– no actually I do, if I need to cry then I love to cry, just get it all out, y’know? And this whole thing—the end-of-the-world monster crisis thing—is like a really good reason to need to cry, the most understandable reason to cry—even Steve's cried about it!” 

“Yes!” Steve confirms immediately, like he either somehow forgot or the detail didn't occur to him.

“And last time– okay I didn't really cry during it much last time because it felt like there was so much going on like all the time but the second we got Steve a hospital room and I could sit down next to him, I started bawling, like really ugly snotty sobbing, and I cried for, like, three hours straight and one of the nurses kept bringing me water so I wouldn't dehydrate and die because I actually could not stop crying and I didn’t even feel that sad, y’know? I had been way more upset in the middle of the whole thing but I didn’t cry once—”

“Just peed your pants a little.” Steve mutters, catching Chrissy off-guard and making Robin fling immediately over to wack his arm.

“You–” Robin says, pointing at him and scrambling for words, “And you shit your pants twenty minutes in!”

“I what?” Steve whisper-laughs, bordering on a dangerous volume again.

“Yeah, you shit yourself and you smelled so bad–” Robin starts breaking into giggles and struggling to keep her volume down, so Steve somehow decides that covering her mouth with his hand would help. It does, kinda, in that it muffles her laughs until she gets them under control and starts swatting him away.

They collect themselves together, clearly trying to keep attuned to Chrissy without directing the full force of attention on her, but as they both try to manage each other’s clumsiness Chrissy feels the pressure of conversation ease and is just left with Robin’s words and the care that both of them were trying to show. Chrissy wipes her face even though new tears still fall, and steels herself with another breath that finally comes easier than the last.

“Robin.” Chrissy says.

Robin stops, and before Chrissy can chicken out she dives forward and takes Robin into a hug.

Robin’s clearly caught off guard but recovers quickly and wraps her arms around Chrissy tight, leaning in with a cheek pressed into her hair, holding her immediately. Chrissy sobs a little for no good reason but Robin doesn’t let go, doesn’t ask again, just keeps holding on.

Instead of waiting ages for her tears to stop, Chrissy just lets go when her crying quiets down and she no longer feels the need to hide from the people holding her. Chrissy loosens her grip and Robin lets go right after, leaning back to check on her, breaking into a sweet, lopsided grin.

Another hand falls carefully onto her back, and when Chrissy turns around and finds Steve still there quietly trying to check in too, Chrissy lunges forward a second time. Steve holds her tight like Robin did– possibly even tighter as his shoulders curl around her frame, like she’s being tucked inside his chest, safe away from harm.

Chrissy kind of hates pulling away, but by the way both Steve and Robin stay close after letting go, Chrissy gets the feeling that it won’t be hard to get more of that affection from them.

“You ready to go back to the couch?” Robin asks.

Chrissy nods.

“Awesome,” Robin says, taking her hand and leading the way back eagerly, “Cause, like, I don’t know about you but I would love to be sleeping right now– and I don’t regret waking up, obviously, totally a good reason to wake up, I just also love getting a full night’s sleep–”

“Aw, poor Robin, not being asleep right now.” Steve teases, getting quieter as they get to the couch but still being loud enough to annoy Robin.

“Aw, poor Stevie, was already awake when things started happening and only had to wake up once in the middle of the night.” Robin whines back, taking a spot in the corner of the couch and pulling Chrissy down to sit with her.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, Robbie.” Steve smiles, not making a move to sit down with them. “Where’d you put your bag?”

“Why?”

“Wanna look at the tapes you have.”

“Steve, you don’t have to.” Chrissy 

“‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, I just want to listen to– uh… Bowie. Obviously.”

Chrissy huffs, torn between the guilt of a favor and a rush of amusement, but couldn’t help but play along.

“And not your manager’s stellar music taste?”

“Steve!” Robin hissed, “You told her?”

“Yeah, what’s she gonna do? Keith’s gonna know.”

“We don’t know for sure!”

“Yeah we do, his walkman’s basically glued to him.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Not with you cause he likes you, but on a Tuesday close with me and I’d be lucky if he heard me dying.”

“Oh, I think he hears you just fine.” Robin laughs.

Steve sighs with a quick eye-roll before gesturing back to the room.

“Bag. Where?”

“Behind the trunk under the staircase.” 

Steve looks at her incredulously but goes to find it, repeating her interesting choice of hiding place under his breath as he goes.

“Did something happen to your other tape?” Robin asks, turning and hitting her with the full force of her concern—and while Chrissy appreciates it, a lot, she needs to look away to relieve some of the pressure and calm some of the heat that hits her cheeks.

“No, no, it’s working fine, I just, uh… was worried I was going to get sick of listening to it all the time.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Robin nods and the intensity of her worry lessens considerably, replaced instead by an almost frantic kind of ramble, “Good as in, like, y’know, that it’s not broken and you’re just being extra cautious, I mean–”

“Yeah, it’s good.” Chrissy smiles, cherishing the way Robin smiles with relief as she realizes she’s being understood.

Robin’s eyes flick slightly to something behind Chrissy so she turns around, catching Steve as he gives a note to a recently awoken Nancy Wheeler and starts finding his way back to the couch around the minefield of sleeping teenagers on the floor. He stops right in front of the couch—in front of Chrissy—and kneels down to open the bag between them for her to see.

“Let Nance know about the new plan.” He mutters, probably softer than he has to, “If by some chance something does happen, she’ll know to try your old tape first.”

Chrissy looks up at his eyes for a moment before turning them down into the bag, impressively full of cassettes, some loose, some in their cases, but almost all of them well-loved. Chrissy reaches in and starts looking through the ones on top, some obviously Steve’s, some obviously Robin’s, some probably Keith’s, and a good many that have to be for both of them. She searches through them blankly for a few minutes before Steve and Robin try helping with suggestions.

“I think some of The Go-Go’s are in there.”

“Steve had ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’.”

“There’s definitely some Cyndi Lauper.”

“What was your old song again?” Robin asks.

“‘Hopelessly Devoted To You’. From Grease.”

Robin hums and stares into the bag. After a second, she starts picking handfuls of them out, picking each one intentionally but still grabbing more than enough for Chrissy to choose from until one catches her eye.

“Wait, wait, wait–”

Robin freezes, looking back to Chrissy with her arms still shoved in her bag, unmoving. Chrissy reaches over and picks up a tape that had already made it to Robin’s lap: a standard-looking cassette without its case and a couple of attempts at hearts drawn on it. It wasn’t the only cassette to have cute drawings—far from it—but it was the first one she saw with wonky hearts scribbled out then copied right next to it, like someone tried, failed, and then was told to bring their failure back instead of hiding it away.

She checks the other side. “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper.

“Steve gave that to me ages ago.” Robin hums, and Chrissy smiles, looking over at the other cassettes with little drawings on them.

“Was it the first one?”

“Second, technically, didn’t draw on Total Eclipse of the Heart until later.”

Chrissy nods, then looks up to Robin again.

“Would you mind…?”

“Oh, yeah, totally. I mean go for it. Worst case scenario: I’m still in touch with my dealer.” Robin jokes, making Steve snort as he stands and drops the bag over by the end of the couch.

Robin gets comfortable as Chrissy goes ahead and switches the tapes in her walkman, going to set her old one on a table nearby. When she turns back around, Robin is laying down on the couch, making grabby hands up towards Steve until he finishes his headcount and turns back around.

“What?” He laughs.

“Get over here, it’s my turn to be big.”

“Hm, if I have to.” Steve laughs and goes to settle with her before pausing and looking back over to Chrissy.

“You want on the couch, too?”

Chrissy goes over towards them and Steve smiles, taking that as her answer.

“We can leave you a spot if you want, or…”

Chrissy flushes but pointedly doesn’t take the offer for the separate spot on the couch, and luckily, Steve and Robin both figure out the answer without her having to say it.

Robin lays on her back half-propped up while Steve basically lays on top of her, spooning but with the little spoon on the verge of crushing the big spoon, but they seem more than content with it, Robin hugging Steve almost like a teddy bear. Steve gives Chrissy the go-ahead, so with her walkman in hand, she carefully takes the spot between him and the back of the couch. She brings the headphones up to her ears just as an arm comes around her back, the new melody fitting the new warmth she’s feeling deep down perfectly.

Chrissy lets one of her hands find Robin’s above her across the polo shirt pillow connecting them. Both the bodies laying with her relax, shifting slightly to get comfortable in their strange arrangement on the cramped couch, but the one thing that stays perfectly consistent is the slow rise and fall beneath her, the feather-light puffs tickling her hair, and the warmth of life enveloping her.

Chrissy knows it’s not perfect. The next few days will be far, far from kind to them. She knows that even when she wakes from this nightmare, she’ll just be stuck right back where she was before, working her ass off at cheer practice during the day and then begging their drug dealer for ketamine at night. The thought will probably never leave her mind.

But right now, Chrissy enjoys the new music playing in her ears, the familiar song with a man and a woman’s voices that feel uniquely alive right now, warm and safe and real.

If you’re lost,

You can look

And you will find me,

Time after time.

If you fall, 

I will catch you.

I’ll be waiting,

Time after time.

Chrissy falls asleep. No dreams, no Vecna, just sleep.

[peipnpu]

My dear mutual on Twitter had this idea so I made a doodle :) <3

[pizzaqueen]

Thinking about a Steddie and Buckingham fic, where they're older and have kids* and everything has been normal for a really long time and then they take the kids somewhere on vacation and weird shit happens. Not Upside Down weird, but still not-of-this-world weird. And that's when their kids finally find out that their parents were once badass monster fighters

(And that’s all I’ve got so far)

[little-annie]

Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild for the prompt and @eyesofshinigami for the brain worm 🪱 our conversation created.

Did you know in fan fic writing the term Rubber Ducking refers to bouncing ideas off of each other/ brainstorming with friends? Well I didn't. I thought it was a sex thing.

From that, this idea was born.

Rubber Ducking | M | 873 WC | Steddie | Buckingham

It was a cold February night when the first sighting occurred. The air in the apartment had felt different. Charged with an electricity Robin couldn't explain.

Something was happening. And at first she had thought it was an anomaly, then maybe a coincidence. 

But then it kept happening. 

Those black empty eyes met hers and mere hours later the sound of the city was lost to the wails of the night.

It sounded like torture.

Like the stripping of flesh and bones.

But even more horrifically, Robin learned it was anything but.

Sure, there was flesh and bone, but how Steve apparently getting absolutely railed by Eddie in the next room over had any connection to the rubber ducky that ended up on the living room coffee table every so often, Robin hadn't the slightest clue.

She just knew that unfortunately there had to be one.

A few weeks later, sitting at the breakfast bar and trying to ignore the low hanging neckline of Chrissy's already frankly obscene tank top, Robin notices the presence of yet another rubber ducky.

This one donning a Sailor's hat and suit. Similar to the one she remembers her and Steve wearing in their days at Scoops Ahoy. 

Not twenty minutes later she's met with Eddie asking if she knows where Steve hid his old uniform. Regrettably she tells him, and that night goes to bed taking precautionary measures with foam plugs in her ears.

The following week there's a light blue ducky on the coffee table instead, then a grey ducky the week after. Then after a few more weeks there's what appears to be a leather daddy ducky. 

Sometimes in between there's a plain normal rubber ducky.

“You figure it out yet?” Chrissy asks one evening, plopping down onto the couch next to Robin and setting her feet in her lap.

God what she wouldn't do for this girl and her polka dot pink fuzzy socks.

Looking over at the boys who are now apparently disgustingly in love, and currently trading lazy kisses and giggles back and forth in the loveseat, Robin sighs, “Unfortunately.”

She nearly had the code cracked before a drunken Steve had told her what it all meant.

Original Ducky = Someone is horny.

Sailor Ducky (Sir Butterscotch) = Someone wears the Scoops uniform. 

Light Blue (Richard) = Someone wants to give / receive head.

Grey (Bari) = Someone wants to be tied up/do the tying up.

Leather Daddy = "You really don't want to know Robin.”

So essentially flagging, she figures, but with various types of rubber duckys, which is horrific in its own way.

Now when one of them is feeling it, they pick a rubber ducky of their choosing and leave it out on the coffee table as a subtle way of asking for the represented attention.

“Sex Duck,” Robin sighs, leaning her head against the back of the couch, turning to look at Chrissy, “They have a fucking sex duck.”

“Like that show with the sex mug?”

“Like the show with the sex mug.” She answers flatly 

Sure seeing the ducks at home was bad enough, but when they started appearing in the wild it was so much worse.

First in Steve's car on the dash, then Eddie's van, then one day at work when Eddie came sauntering in and pulled a light blue ducky from his pocket, tossing it in Steve's direction before walking off towards the employees only bathroom.

They think they're subtle, but really they're not.

It's just another Tuesday evening when a new ducky makes its way onto the coffee table in the living room. Traditional like the first, but donning a pink bow and black painted on lashes. Feminine. Cute.

Like a game, Robin's began trying to decipher the meaning behind every duck before Steve inevitably tells her. It helps her cope with the trauma. 

This one though, makes her wonder. 

Sitting on the couch staring probably a little too intensely at the newest addition to the boys collection, Robin hardly notices when Steve plops down beside her.

She startles when she notices him, his voice catching her off guard. “Whatcha doing?”

“Trying to figure out what kink of yours this little lady represents.”

Steve hums and Eddie joins them shortly after, settling in the rocking chair across from them, giving the ducky the same odd look Robin had been moments ago.

“Whatcha doing, Buck?”

She gestures to the duck, “Figuring out her deal.”

Feminization maybe?

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks

“What?” Robin looks up from those cute long lashed eyes, “No. Your duck.”

Next to her Steve huffs a laugh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch. “Not our ducky, Rob.”

What?

“Course it is.”

“Not our ducky, Babe.” Eddie repeats Steve's words.

It has to be. “Well it's not mine.” Robin grumbles.

“No, no Rob it's not.” Steve nudges Robin's knee with his, “Maybe it's meant for you though.”

No.

No?

Looking far too excited, Eddie smirks, “Chris is in her room isn't she?”

Well… it… it wouldn't hurt to check would it? Maybe the boys are just teasing her, playing a game. But on the off chance they're not…

“You gonna go get your girl, Rob?”

Jesus Christ, she's going to, isn't she?

[hellcheeriest]

i bet he's never had a backstreet guy

Twitch Streamer!Eddie x Single dad!Steve

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: Introductory Chapter where we meet Steve and his son Dustin, and Eddie and his group of friends.

Content Warnings: Slight age gap (Steve is 31, Eddie is 26), bullying.

A/N: I wrote this almost two years ago and the full first chapter ended up being almost ten thousand words... and then i never finished writing the second chapter. Here's a heavily re written first chapter! I'm splitting this up much more, and this chapter is shorter than the rest will be as its mostly an intro chapter to introduce characters and their dynamics :)

w/c: 2,017

January, 2023

STEVE HARRINGTON

“Fuck, dude!” A voice blared from Dustin’s phone. The kitchen was warmly lit as Steve flipped a pancake. It was a Monday morning, and the sun’s light peaked through the crack between the curtains. The smell of bacon cooling on the counter wafted through the air, and Steve turned to give his son a disapproving glare.

“Hey, what’s with the language?” Steve asked, turning over hashbrowns in a separate, smaller pan.

“Sorry, dad. Just a streamer I’m watching.” Dustin replied as he took a sip of his orange juice. “He and his friends are like, super funny.” Steve stalked over, a full plate of breakfast in his hands. He placed it on the counter in front of Dustin, leaning over Dustin’s shoulder to view the gameplay shown on the screen. They were playing a game he vaguely recognized as something Dustin had shown him while saving up his allowance money.

A different voice sounded from the phone. A lighter one, belonging to someone who the first person referred to as ‘Chrissy.’

“Who are they?” Steve asked as he returned to the stove. Dustin took a bite of his pancakes.

“The guy is Eddie. He’s the one playing the game.” Dustin began, pausing only when his dad scolded him for talking with his mouth full. “The girl is Chrissy.”

Steve smiled as his son ranted. Dustin was typically very passionate about his interests, and Steve loved seeing his son so happy. It was too often that Dustin came home from school deflated and downright miserable. He was nerdy, and the type of kid that was bullied even back when Steve was in school. Apparently times haven't changed.

“You really like these guys, huh?” Steve asked, thoughtful, as he turned off the burners and brought the now empty pans to the sink.

“Yeah!” Dustin began, practically bouncing in his seat. “Their friend group is all super cool, and Eddie-” He took a moment when the man- Eddie, cracked a joke that made Chrissy laugh. “Eddie used to be bullied, too. And he’s super cool, so…” Steve sent his son a small, sad smile. He walked over to Dustin, and pulled him into a hug. “He just makes me feel better.”

“Well,” Steve ran a hand through Dustin’s curly hair. “I’m glad he makes you feel better. As long as you don’t get a swearing problem, got it?” He asked, smirking.

Dustin broke into a smile, nodding.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dustin gulped down the rest of his orange juice. “I'm finished eating, can we get going? I don't want to be late for school!”

_____________________

EDDIE MUNSON

Eddie @/hellfyre

streaming among us with friends :)

@/bluefille

@/rockinrobin

@/jefftheekiller

@gareththatsme

@/grrant

twitch.tv/hellfyre

_____________________

Chris @/bluefille

Can’t wait! :)

Rob @/rockinrobin

im here against my will.

_____________________

Eddie’s room was dark, the light of his monitors casting a shadow behind him. He sighed and slid down in his chair. He was deafend in the discord call with most of his friends and he loaded up the game, his cursor hovering over the ‘Go Live’ button. He ran a hand through his slightly unkempt hair, thankful for the fact he hasn’t shown his face yet. He wasn't even sure he owned a camera minus the one built into his monitors. Taking a deep breath, Eddie presses the button and lets his ‘Stream starting soon’ screen play out.

Quickly the viewer count rose from a few hundred to a couple thousand, and after five minutes Eddie unmuted his microphone.

“Hey chat!” He grinned at the spamming of emotes in the chat. “Today, as you know, we’re doing among us with corroded coffin and friends. Robin and Chrissy, my personal favourites, but don’t tell the guys that.” He laughed. “Jeff and Gareth just got back from vacation so hopefully they suck, and Austin has yet to join us.”

Eddie pulled up a picture of his guitar and shrank it down to cover where the room code would go.

“Among us in 2023?” He read from the chat. “You know it.”

Eddie undeafened in discord, the loud voices of his friends instantly shot through his headphones.

“Gareth, you prick!” Robin shouted down her microphone. “Take that back you heathen.”

“God, Robin. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Eddie asked.

“Gareth’s flaunting his relationship with Jeff! Practically rubbing it in my face! He’s basically making fun of how I don’t have a girlfriend.” Robin whined and Gareth laughed.

“Can we please just start the game? I don’t want to deal with this debate anymore!” Jeff pleaded.

“You’re just asking that because you get all flustered whenever Gareth gushes about you.” Chrissy added, her voice soft as ever.

“Yeah, Jeff, we get it. You’re in a happy relationship and you hold hands and blah blah blah.” Eddie joked, putting on a New Yorker accent.

“Hey, leave my mans alone.” Gareth said and Jeff groaned, causing everyone else to laugh. “I’m making the room.”

“Sorry guys, my mom just called. I gotta go.” Robin said, her raspy voice wavering as she tried not to laugh, giving her away.

“Fuck you Robin.” Gareth retorted and Robin cackled. “I’m posting the code in the discord, assholes.

“I’m too sober for this.” Austin said, finally deciding to speak up after joining to the pandemonium.

_____________________

It had been an hour and a half straight of playing among us, and Eddie was starting to get a headache. His throat was sore from the accent he chose to do in the last round they played.

“Well, guys. I still have to eat dinner so I should get going.” Eddie confessed, rubbing his eyes.

“Okay, Eddie! Enjoy your dinner.” Chrissy yawned. It was eight PM for the both of them, and Chrissy’s childhood habit of going to bed on time carried over to adulthood and it was her wind down time by now

“Night man.” Gareth said, and wishes of a good rest from Jeff, Robin and Austin followed. Eddie returned the gesture and hung up. He bid farewell to his viewers before shutting down his stream and turning off his computer. He stretched, before standing up and leaving his small bedroom and heading to the small kitchenette of his apartment. He grabbed one of the TV dinners that sat in his freezer and threw it in the microwave for a few minutes.

He walked to his bathroom and grabbed an elastic off of the counter, wrapping it around his hair before leaning over the sink and splashing water over his warm face. After rubbing a towel down his face, he leaned on the counter and stared into the mirror, taking in his appearance.

He wouldn't say he was insecure of his looks, but it was a daunting thing to think about when his side of the internet were constantly talking about how devastatingly hot he must be.

What if they didn't like how he looked?

That was a thought that rarely crossed his mind. He prided himself on the fact that he didn't care what others thought, and really, after years of bullying he'd grown a tough shell. So no, he wouldn't care about what others thought. He only thought like this when he was drunk or tired, and he wasn't drunk. The dark purple of his under eyes confirmed it was the latter.

They stood out against the pale skin of his face, similar to how the black of his self-cropped Metallica shirt he'd gotten at a concert and dark tattoos that ran all down his torso clashed with his almost fragile looking flesh.

Thank you iron deficiency. And college.

He'd just skimmed by and managed to graduate on his third attempt at senior year, so he wasn't sure why he decided to torture himself further by becoming an English major, especially since his streaming career seemed to be kicking off and who knew if he would even end up needing it?

After the beep of the microwave went off, he went back to the microwave and grabbed the plastic dish and went to the reclining arm chair in his small, plain living room. It was always a shock stepping into the modern bright white walls of his apartment after living his whole life in the cluttered comfortability of his uncle's trailer. They didn’t have much then, but he was happy. 

Eddie put on an anniversary re-run of some old, popular sit com. The laugh track filled his otherwise quiet apartment and Eddie started chewing on the tough, TV dinner steak.

He’s still happy now, he supposes. A bit bored, maybe. He didn’t see his uncle much anymore, and he lived alone. The only friend he lived close to was Chrissy, and even she lived an hour out of the city Eddie was in. He loved streaming, loved providing content for the people who’d watch it, and he knew it was selfish to wish for more when so many would kill to have what he has.

But sometimes he can’t help it.

_____________________

STEVE HARRINGTON

Steve was worried. He was parked outside of Dustin’s high school. Band ended fifteen minutes ago and there was still no sign of his curly headed son. It wasn’t often Dustin stayed behind this long, not unless he was getting pestered by some moron. After another moment Steve huffed and got out of his car, walking into the school.

It was somewhat nostalgic to walk the halls of the highschool, the same one Steve went to way back when. The walls were a different colour now, and banners hung from wall to wall to announce different events. Steve wasn't here to reminisce, though.

He was a few feet away from Dustin’s locker when he saw two larger teenagers cornering his son into the metal of the lockers, spitting harmful words to Dustin’s already terrified face. The guys seemed to be older, maybe even in their senior year, and Dustin was small, only in the ninth grade.

“Hey!” Steve called out, his pace increasing in speed as the guys turned to look at him. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

“Dude, is that who I think it is?” One of the guys asked. Oh great. Steve thought. Jocks.

Steve wasn’t proud of who he was in highschool. He was a loud, ignorant asshole just like the two here that were harassing his son. The thought made his heart hurt. 

“Steve Harrington? What are you doing here?” The other asked, laughing as he held Dustin by the collar of his shirt.

“Well, I’m here to pick up my son, but it seems he’s been held back.” Steve said through gritted teeth, hoping that his visceral hatred spilled through into his tone, and the two older boys' faces paled before they scrambled to get away from the two. Steve scoffed, and was quick to kneel down in front of his son whose face was red and wet with tears. His shirt was soaked, and his nose was bloodied, and Steve’s chest felt heavy with anger. 

Calming himself down, Steve held Dustin’s shoulders.

“Hey, bud.” He started softly. “Let’s getcha home, hey?” A small sob broke through Dustin’s lips as he nodded and Steve brought his son in for a hug.

Soon they were outside and walking to the car, Dustin under Steve’s arm.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Steve asked after getting in the car and Dustin shook his head, facing out the window. Steve sighed quietly and looked at his hands where they gripped the steering wheel. “I saw a notification on your phone this afternoon,” This seemed to catch Dustin’s attention. “I think that streamer you like posted something. Maybe you’ll have something to watch when you get home?”

Finally, Dustin smiled. It was small, but Steve was grateful. Dustin nodded.

“I still want to hear about what happened today, kay?” He asked gently, and Dustin nodded again, but slower this time. Steve put a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

After a moment he started the car and drove out of the school parking lot.

[hilarychuff]

Robin says Chrissy’s the one with the magic, but Chrissy’s pretty sure it’s the other way around. Something about wearing Robin’s blazer yesterday had made her feel brave, safe, like she could talk about exactly the sort of things she’d practiced avoiding with Miss Kelly last week. Today, Robin’s jacket is black denim instead of a blazer, scattered pins and patches decorating the material, but when she loans it to Chrissy, it feels just the same. They’re in the theater again, the same row, same seats even maybe, though this time Chrissy had arrived first. As soon as her free period ended, she’d left Jason outside of the gym and made a beeline straight here, not even bothering to stop at her locker. The lunch her mother packed didn’t have much in it anyway. She’d figured she was better off with the two granola bars in her backpack. She’s nibbling on one of them now, stalling while she gathers her courage. Robin’s been a little quieter today, not asking as many questions as she has during their last few lunches, but it’s given Chrissy time to carefully choose her words. “Robin?” she starts. “Can I ask you a question?” Robin looks up from slurping some sort of cold sesame noodle out of a tupperware, swallowing her bite and setting her lunch down in the row behind them. “Sure,” she says. “What’s up?” Chrissy sucks in a breath, bracing herself for whatever the response will be. “Are you and Steve really just friends?”

all the best people see you (all the best people know), chapter 8, a season 4 buckingham au

[xstevex-world]

(Part 1 of the pop star Chrissy AU)

“So what you’re saying is that you are 100% positive that I’ve spent my day with, not only an actual, real life international pop sensation; but the same Chrissy Cunningham that you have been fangirling over since senior year of high school?”

Robin hears Steve groan on the other end of the line. She can't blame him though, she’s made him explain her exact situation to her 3 times over.

“Yes Robin, that’s definitely her,” he sighs.

Robin falls back down on her bed, she can’t believe this. If she had been honest with herself, that entire day felt like a fever dream, a fantasy she had conjued up from weeks of sheer boredom. It was hard to ignore, the feeling that her day shared with her was a one time thing, especially after Chrissy apologetically declined to meet up with her the next day, saying she had to do work stuff.

Thinking about it, in retrospect, the signs were there. She had absolutely talked about how she worked in music and had been travelling a lot with it recently - yeah, Robin thought she was probably in a small band or was a session musician by the way she talked so casually about it.

But this? Shit, this whole situation she's found herself in? it’s like something out of those stupid romance novels her mom and Steve like talk about.

She always had it in her head that pop stars were meant to be over the top and flashy, but Chris just seamed so…sweet. She was listened to robin ramble on and on about everything and nothing, laughed loudly at her terrible jokes before giving her perspective or talking all about her own experiences

And when she smiled? She radiated happiness and joy as if she was the personification of the sun. There would be an etching of that smile in her brain for the rest of Robin's life.

“Robin!”’ His voices takes her out of her trace, grounding her in reality. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” is all she mandages to say.

“So you have two options,” Steve explains, and gods, she wishes he was here so she could at least see his eyes roll at her obvious awkwardness.

“The first is you just ignore that this whole meeting ever happened,” which, yeah is she absolutely not doing. Even if she never got to meet Chrissy again, at least she would still have the memory of meetng that deity of a human being.

“Or?” She asks, hoping that even 3637 miles away, Steve would be able to bring her down from her wild panic.

“Or; you listen to me and go see her.”

Steve has always been rather blunt, it’s what Robin likes so much about him. He tells her exactly what he means, no in between meaning to his statements.

“She’s playing a concert tomorrow night in the city, it’s probably why she said she couldn’t hang out tomorrow, she has sound checks and rehearsals and stuff," he explained, as if he knew her entire schedule (what was she kidding, he probably did.) "I'm going to get you a ticket, so you go to see her tomorrow night, enjoy the show, take a photo and dm her telling her how good her performance was, ok?”

He makes it sound so simple.

“But what if I go and do all this and it turns out that-“

“She’s straight? Robs, she’s very open about being bisexual-“

“No, dingus!” She yells into the receiver, running her hand through her hair. “What if I read the entire thing wrong and she was just being nice? I’m famously not good at reading the room and, for all I know, she could have thought this was just all a friendly thing that we have going? Like, listen to me Steve, I’m me, and if she’s the same pop sensation that you’ve talked drones about for as long as I’ve known you then what could she gain with a romantic endeavour with me? She could have anyone and not the person who she met yesterday who’s…”

“Who’s what, robs?”

She can’t answer that, knows if she says what she wants to that Steve will deny it, but she knows who she is - she’s annoying, too much all the time and knows that logically she wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice in friend, let alone girlfriend.

Sometimes she thinks it’s a miracle that Steve has been her friend for as long as he has.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he interrupts her inner monologue, voice softer than she’s used to with him. “But you have to stop thinking that you’re not good enough. The only person who’s allowed to talk shit about my best friend is me…and probably Erica, but I think she thinks you’re too cool to actually insult you much.”

Robins audibly snorts, falling back onto her bed.

As hard as it was being away from her family and the rest of their little friend groupd, the thing she misses the most is Steve. She was so used to having her platonic soulmate with her at all times, ready to latch onto for whatever the reason may be.

And right now? She could really use a hug, pecifically one from Steve "The Hair" Harrington.

“Robs, just trust me, she wouldn’t have spend they day following you around Paris is she wasn’t completely gone for you - she would have been at Disneyland with Corroded Coffin getting pictures with Darth Vader and shouting about how it's a capitalist utopia while eating the churros…" he pauses momentarily, and robin knows exactly what he's going to ask next. "...actually, speaking of, did she-?"

“Talk about Eddie Munson? Well, considering that I didn’t know that it was the same Eddie that you’ve had a raging boner over for the past year despite the fact-"

“Robin!”

“It’s true!” She yells, face now beaming from her laughter. “I’ll make you a deal, Stevie, if you plan works then I’ll put in a good word with Chrissy for you, she’s bound to know what gonna bring you into Munson’s raider-"

“Robin, stop!”

"-because I have some stories, Steve, and you’re lucky I was listening because if I didn’t like Chrissy so much I know wouldn’t remember, which would suck for you because i now know a few rather scandalous stories about the guy-"

“ROBIN!” Steve shouts through the receiver, making robin jump. “Focus!”

She shuts up, smiling to herself.

“I wish you were here, dingus,” she admits, rolling onto her stomach. “At least you’d be able to help me out, maybe, if this works, make sure I don’t pass out in front of her.”

“Of course it’s going to work” he states with every syllable oozing that signature Harrington’s smugness. “But only if you wear those plaid pants you have, the ones that hug your thighs in all the right places-“

“Gross, dingus!”

But sure enough, she listens, but if Steve’s right about one thing it’s how to leave a lasting impression, especially in the “you look good” department.

So, the following evening, she dons blue, plaid pants with a plain black tank, slicks back her hair using whatever hair products Steve left during his last visit and makes up her face: brushing electric blue pigments onto her eyelids before smudging kohl against her waterline.

It takes her serval pep talks in the mirror to finally convince herself to actually leave the apartment, but she did it, managed to walk to the venue and wait, nursing her beer whilst leaning against the against the back wall.

Robin kind of regrets not tagging along to all the Chrissy Cunningham concerts that Steve invited her too in the past, maybe then she would know what to expect.

(Or, maybe then, she wouldn’t be in this exact situation, but who was she kidding, of course she would be, nothing straight forward ever happens to her).

The entire thing is overwhelming, the venue has been crowded since before she arrived, (since it was well after the opening act ended) which really isn’t her scene. She’s already nervous and her hands won't stop shaking and she's about to call it quits, text Steve that she'll pay him back for the tickets in actual money rather than their original plan and walk out the doors of the theater where she can crawl back into bed and scream into her pillow-

The lights dim, and everyone around starts screaming as the first notes of the synth play, Chrissy's voice carrying through the room.

Robin can't help but stare, she's so beautiful, stunningly gorgeous with the voice of an angel, she doesn't even notice the rest of the band join her one by one or the two dancers who have a hand on Chrissy's shoulder. She doesn't even realise the opening number has finished, can't pay attention to anything other than the cascading curls of chrissys hair, the way her body moves in one with the music, the same smile that struck her heart in the first place- the smile that shines brighter than any spotlight ever could.

She doesn't register much, barely hears anything other than Chrissy sing about new moons, staying when she shouldn't or sending her love to Wayne; songs she know she's probably heard before, probably from (just being in close proximity to steve Harrington), but none of that matters, shes memorised by her.

And when the final act is coming to a close, she almost misses it, but she can feel eyes on her even this far to the back of the crowd.

Robin only meets Eddie Munson’s eyes for a second, impossibly wide eyes staring her down in disbelief before seeing his cue to exit the stage. She almost drops her half-drank pint, a string of curses running through her head - but the whole interaction has her frozen. 

Her brain tells her to "RUN! GET OUT!" before it escalates any further, the churn of pure anxiety in her stomach reminding her that this was a stupid plan, she shouldn't have come. She cant do this, won't do this-

She leaves before lights go black.

⭐💘🎫🎤🎫💘⭐

So thank you all so much for the support on the first post, I was not expecting it to get traction buy you all loved it??? My heart is swelling omfg. Thank you for being patient with me with this part (I'm dyslexic and work full time, on top of just being very slow at producing, well, anything lol).

I'm hoping to have either 5 or 6 parts altogether if you guys keep enjoying it ((sorry not sorry to make you steddie fans sit through the Buckingham part first, Robin needs to get her girl!!!))

Shout out to my gf (who's not an st fan) for beta reading this with comments like "is Robin a useless lesbian?" Or "do they really say dingus in the show?" Or "wow, she really needs some loops!"

As a bonus treat, the concert playlist can be found here! Included are songs that represent or resemble the tracks on the set list of the gig that Robin goes too see (including the CCxCC material that would be played as the encore in the final three songs)

Taglist (if you wish to be added, I just ask you be polite about it x): @maya-custodios-dionach @papermachedragons @mildgendercrisis @vampiregirl1797 @lizard-dyk3 @hellomynameismoo @beckkthewreck @eboyawstenn @justmiiriam @gregre369 @korixae @victor-thee-corvid @yes-im-your-mom @bisexualdisastersworld @questionablequeeries

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie Slice of life

A little sneaky Peaky of a new 5k Steddie slice of life fic I'll be posting on AO3 soon :)

Eddie was back a minute later, Tuna back in his arms as he crawled into bed. She settled in the divot between their legs, her head resting on Eddie’s thigh. He petted at her back looking up at Steve. “Can I bring tuna to the game?” He asked with a megawatt smile, there was mischief and determination behind his eyes that let Steve know he would be losing this battle. 

“People will think we’re crazy,” Steve tried anyway despite knowing better. 

“People already think I’m a woman until I turn around. What's a little more misdirection with a cat and a baby stroller?” Eddie grinned, waggling his brows at Steve, that big smile still on his face. 

“You want to bring her in a baby stroller?” Steve asked in disbelief, he honestly shouldn’t be surprised though. Eddie was as chaotic as they come. 

“It's the most safe and convenient way.” Eddie nodded seriously. “Plus little Miss deserves the princess treatment.” 

Steve rolled his eyes at that but relented. “You spoil her too much but, fine. You have to find a baby stroller that isn’t hundreds of dollars and cat proof it though.” He pointed at Eddie sternly. 

“You know, I’m the king of the thrift baby, I’ll make it happen.” Eddie assured with a cocky grin. Despite his eye rolls, Steve couldn’t deny it, considering he was laying on a mattress sitting in a brass bed frame Eddie found for them at the thrift store with two matching oak side tables to go with it. 

“You have until next weekend, if it isn’t done she stays home.” Steve warned. 

Eddie just smiled even wider, leaning in to give Steve a wet kiss. “Of course baby.” He began peppering kisses all over Steve’s face. “I love youuuu.” He sang. 

“I love you too.” Steve finally cracked and dropped his grumpy facade. If it made Eddie happy he didn’t care. “Now go to bed.” He chuckled and pushed Eddie away when the kisses began to tickle