#bet you can't guess who the robin's for.........................

[fruchtchen]

oak king of summer

ref • ref

[libraryofgage]

Been watching sooooo much say yes to the dress so.....

Steve and Robin are consultants and co-designers at Kleinsfeld. Robin especially loves designing and Steve really loves that moment brides find The Dress because they light up and he helped make that happen and it just makes him smile

Enter Eddie Munson, rockstar and definitely not in a relationship but at Kleinsfeld to find a dress he can wear for an upcoming music video that's a little corpse bride vibes re revenge and murder (dead bride raised by necromancer and given opportunity to get revenge on her killer ex)

Eddie shows up with the guys and Steve/Robin are their consultants (they can't be separated bad things happen like Robin knocking over a rack of dresses bc Steve isn't there to pull her back in time) and when Steve (knows who Eddie is, doesn't care that much, they get celebrities all the time) asks who the bride is neither blink at Eddie raising his hand with a shit eating grin

They just go right into the design/style/budget questions and Eddie is almost disappointed he didn't get to cause more of a scene lmao

Anyway Steve is the one helping in the dressing room and he's getting Eddie into this big dramatic ballgown when Eddie asks why he's a consultant

Steve inadvertently just rambles about helping brides and making them feel the center of attention and cared for and special during their appointments. He also talks about designing affordable but fashionable dresses with Robin since he has experience with high fashion and general design and she knows best about keeping costs down without making things ugly

Obviously Eddie Munson is immediately heart eyes listening to this guy describe all of this while expertly lacing a ballgown corset and getting clips in place so it fits right and before he knows it Steve is leading him to where Robin and the band are waiting

The guys are immediately all giving Looks (derogatory) but can't describe what's wrong until Robin looks at Eddie and asks if he's adverse to negative feedback

Eddie is like "???? No, I guess???"

And is just even more confused when Robin goes, "No. Really, think about it."

So when he says it's fine Robin pushes Steve forward and tells him to let loose. Eddie is surprised cuz Steve is so sweet? How could he possibly be mean? And then Steve just holds nothing back like "the color washes you out, that beading makes your chest look uneven, the ballgown is actually a horrible silhouette on you because you just look uncomfortable having so much dress hanging off you"

And he says it all with this little popped out hip and slightly pursed mouth and raised eyebrow and it's so so bitchy and Eddie is fucking in love okay, he's gone, he needs to make fun of other people with Steve immediately

But also he's a gremlin so he's like "can a guy even look good in a wedding dress tho, like, does it matter?"

And Robin immediately jumps in like "of course it does you plebian especially if you want the music video to be any good"

This leads to Eddie and the guys not believing them so Robin and Steve share A Look and they do love proving people wrong so they're both like "bet" and tell Eddie to wait there

Cue them grabbing a sample dress (click to see what I'm thinking literally this is such a pretty dress holy shit) from their collection, putting Steve in it, and then showing it off

Eddie is dead. Immediately. Steve's arms? His legs? His chest? His confident little smirk as he spins in front of them?? 4 braincells dead and 28 injured in Eddie’s head

Anyway he literally ends up on his knees begging Steve to be in the music video, Steve agrees cuz he thinks Eddie is hot and funny, and CC fans lose their shit over the bride and his dress in the music video, especially when he and Eddie kiss at the end after the revenge murdering

[inklessletter]

The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.

Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.

Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.

It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.

Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.

So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.

And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.

It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.

He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.

He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.

Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.

The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.

Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.

He can't.

His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.

Lord knows it would be the first time.

The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.

He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.

The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."

It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.

"Yeah. I bet you do."

He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.

"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."

He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."

The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.

The question goes unspoken.

The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.

And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.

So for once in my life

let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time

[lilpomelito]

“What's wrong with Pop music?”

Eddie stops mid rant and spins around. Steve is sitting upside down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, his silky hair touching the floor.

“I mean,” Steve continues, his voice a little strained by his position, “if so many people like it, there has to be something good about it, right?”

Eddie shares a look with Jonathan, hoping to find an ally, but the man looks zonked out of his mind. Argyle really brought the good shit with him.

“That's not the point, Stevie,” Eddie explains as he sits down on the floor next to the guy's head. “It's popular because it's the only shit the big corpos are pushing on the radio. It's what everyone listens to, so everyone thinks they have to like it to be liked. To be accepted. And it's not even good music! Where's the artistic merit in cheap studio synthesizers mixed with braindead lyrics like wake me up before you go go?"”

Steve frowns. “Not all popular music is like that. Also what's wrong with wanting to be liked?”

“Do you not like Freddie Mercury?” Robin gasps, lifting her head from Steve's stomach, and she sounds heavily offended.

Eddie blinks for second, confused as to where the conversation has suddenly turned. But Steve nods, apparently following her line of reasoning.

“Yeah, man. Queen is like, the most popular band in history. Do they not have artistic merit?”

“No, of course not, that's not what I–”

“And the government is not conspiring to push pop music, Eddie, we've seen they're too busy experimenting on children and opening portals to a parallel dimension,” Robin says.

“What about Bowie?” Steve says. “You loved Labyrinth. Didn't shut up about it for like a week. He's pop!”

“The point,” Eddie insists, flustered, avoiding to watch directly Steve's upside down smirk, “is forced conformity. Queen are all nerds! Bowie is a huge nerd. Where would they be now if they had played high school football?”

Jonathan nods slowly, but doesn't comment.

“What about astronauts?” Nancy asks, from where she's sitting at Johnathan's feet. “They're nerds, yes, but they also have to be in great physical shape. I bet most of them were athletes in school.”

“Yeah, totally!” Steve nods. “Remember Casey Johnson? He was captain of the basketball team when I was a freshman. He was valedictorian, and I think he went to Standford on a sports scholarship!”

“Yeah, I remember him,” Robin says, rolling her eyes. “One of my friends had a huuuuge crush on him.”

Steve's cheeks go red. He incorporates himself, despite Robin's protests, and sits on the couch like a normal person.

“Whatever. He was a nerd and an athlete. What's conformist about that?”

Eddie stares at him, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing, I guess. Or everything. He succeeded at academia, which was designed to shape kids into exploitable workers under capitalism—”

Jonathan groans behind him.

“—and made captain in a sport that's basically throwing balls into laundry baskets and calling it strategy. Praising people for that to the point where schools are giving scholarships is a little too much.”

“You try it, then, man,” Argyle calls from where he's laying on the rug, star shape style. “I bet you ten bucks you can't win at throwing laundry into baskets against Steve. Or my boy Lucas.”

Robin laughs maniacally. “Oh, I want to see that! Steve please destroy him, his ego needs a little humbling.”

The conversation moves on after that, since everybody looks like they're already over Eddie's rant. He doesn't mind, really. It's fun to ramp up the dramatic indignation against The Man, or whatever. It always causes a reaction, and even people who agree with him somewhat eventually hit a limit. Eddie likes to stick his finger and find that limit.

But not Steve. He's looking at Eddie like he's fascinating.

“You're a hypocrite.”

Eddie falters, biting down a smirk. “How come?”

Steve scoots a little closer. “You want to be a rockstar. You don't just want to live off making music. You want to be famous. You want people to like you.”

Eddie stares at him for a second, frozen in place.

“That's not—”

But Steve smiles, gentle. “That's alright. We all do. And you want to know a secret about being popular?”

Eddie can't resist. For all he protests about popularity and conformity and being so normal everybody likes you, he does wonder what it feels like to be on the other side. So he nods.

Steve smiles sadly. “It doesn't actually change anything. You think it means more people like you, but it just means more people are aware of you. What you do, what you say. Who are your friends, who you date. Where you go, when you go there. And at some point you feel like you can't escape it. And yeah, you do start to conform to the norm. Not because you think it's what's best but because you're so aware of people's opinions of you that you always choose the path of least resistance.”

Eddie... has never considered that. He moves a little closer to Steve as his voice goes quiet.

“You think it was fun to run into a random suburban mom in the grocery store and have her be furious at me because I was dating Susan Davis? Who apparently was her daughter's cousin, and she had a crush on me, and was planning on asking me to prom? How on earth was I supposed to know that? And she was double mad that I didn't even know who her daughter was. Like there's two hundred kids in Hawkins High. I can't know everyone!”

Eddie tries not to laugh, because Steve seems upset by this, but the situation is kind of ridiculous.

“And I think they got into their heads that because they knew of me I was supposed to also know them. But they didn't actually know me. I made prom King, people were mad. I was captain of the basketball team, people were mad. I then turned down being captain of the swim team and was just co-captain, people were still mad. I took a job, and people made fun of me. I lost that job because the mall caught on fire, people also made fun of me. I took another job, and people say I'm "wasting my potential", whatever that means. I don't know man. I think you can never win with people.”

Eddie grabs Steve's hand, touching softly his palm. It seems to work, and Steve relaxes a tiny bit under his touch.

What Steve said sounded exactly like what Eddie was talking about: the pressure to be what society wants, not what you want. He can tell it's a touchy subject for Steve, who has been under the crushing spotlight of being a relatively small town's golden boy.

So Eddie doesn't push any further.

“You got me there, though,” he says.

Steve smiles again. “Yeah?”

“Yeap,” Eddie nods. “I do want to be a famous rockstar. I do want to be known and liked and admired. I've never had that. But I guess you're right. We can't have it both ways.”

Robin, who up to that point had been discussing with Argyle the difference between an oboe and a clarinet, jumps in. “It's the horrifying ordeal of being known.”

Steve laughs. Eddie can't help it, his laugh is too contagious. He can't understand how people in this hellscape of a town ever looked at this boy and thought "he's not enough." With him? He gets it. Eddie's list of failures is a mile long. But Stevie? Sunshine incarnate, puppy-eyed, bitchy beautiful and smart Steve Harrington? There's nothing to complain about.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie and Steve were in the RV chatting while the others were in the field. Eddie, his hands over his face.

"Dude, we're going to make it out of this," Steve said slapping the table in front of Eddie.

"Yeah, the day we make it out of this is the day a jock tattoos my name on their ass," Eddie snorted, and Steve couldn't help but laugh with him.

A month later, Eddie was hiding out at Steve's again with Robin as they talked about Vickie.

"Question," Eddie said, interrupting her for a minute. "Why aren't you sitting down, big boy?"

"Yeah, I asked him that earlier," Robin said, narrowing her eyes at Steve. "But he wouldn't tell me."

"It's just a little sore, okay?" Steve blushed.

"Who the hell have you been doing anal with?" Robin asked wide eyes. "We're all out to each other, so I think you would have told me if you and - "

"Oh my god!" Steve said quickly. "No, it's not that either!"

"Oh my god!" Eddie exclaimed with wide eyes. "You didn't!"

"Well, I am a jock, and we did make it out," Steve replied.

"Let me fucking see!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his knee.

"Robin, you might want to leave," Steve sighed.

"Fuck no! I've seen worse! What's on your ass, Steve?" Robin asked.

"Fine, Goddamnit," Steve muttered, and Eddie cackled gleefully, clapping his hands.

Steve pulled his pants down and pulled his boxers back to reveal Eddie Munson tattooed on his right butt cheek.

"Why?!" Robin asked with wide eyes.

"In the RV, Eddie said that the day we make it out of this is the day a jock tattooed his name on their butt," Steve shrugged. "We made it out."

"You know that's permanent, right?" Robin asked. "You have Eddie's name tattooed permanently on your ass?"

"I guess that means this ass belongs to me," Eddie said and yanked him backward into his lap, causing Steve to yelp.

"Eddie, I'm still healing!" Steve exclaimed as he pulled his pants up.

Eddie shifted until he was only sitting on one cheek but still in his lap.

"This is my que to leave," Robin said and then cursed as she started to leave. "Damn, I thought it would take you longer to pull your heads out of your asses!"

"Pretty sure, she just lost a bet with herself," Steve replied as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck.

"So," Eddie said, looking at him hopefully. "Does it mean that your ass belongs to me? I mean, not like belong as in - you know belong but you know, that you want what I want and what I want is you."

"I want you too," Steve said and kissed him.

Eddie giggled against his lips and broke the kiss to press kisses all over his face. Steve laughed. Eddie nuzzled his nose against Steve’s neck.

"You know what this means?" Eddie asked.

"What?"

"I have to get your name tattooed on my ass," Eddie grinned.

"Oh, I can't wait to see that," Steve said.

Steve leaned in and kissed him again, pressing him back against the sofa. Eddie slid his hands up Steve’s waist, one hand heading towards his chest as he kissed him eagerly. Suddenly, Steve pulled back and slapped his hand away.

"Why?"

"Going for the boob grab?" He asked and shook his head. "Naughty. You haven't even offered to buy me dinner. What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"You going to make me work for it, sweetheart?" Eddie asked.

"Hell yes," Steve scoffed. "I mean, I think that I'm definitely worth it. I did put your name on my ass so. . ."

"Fair point," he said, and then his voice softened considerably. "You are so fucking worth it. Hmm, maybe I should place my tattoo right here."

He grabbed Steve’s hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. Steve bit his lip, smiling bashfully. He gazed into Eddie's eyes, sighing in complete contentment. Steve let out a scoff.

"Yeah, no, and make me look like a dirty bird with my tattoo?" Steve asked. "No, you're getting it on your ass too."

"Whatever my baby wants, my baby gets," Eddie grinned.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FOUR

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.8+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

4:00 ──ㅇ──────────────── 24:00

BIRDIE created a groupchat. 

BIRDIE added DINGUS, NANCE, JOHNNY, & ARGYLE 😎

DINGUS: why the fuck is my name dingus

BIRDIE: so… are we going to talk about how in love they look in that photo?

NANCE: Eddie looks like he’s going to commit a federal crime, Robin.

DINGUS: how do i change my name

ARGYLE 😎: a sign of true love my friends

BIRDIE: @NANCE SEE? he gets it. 

JOHNNY: Is this chat really necessary? 

DINGUS: guys seriously. how the fuck do i change my name?

—

HOUR FOUR - 7:00 PM

Let the record show that you don’t normally care about Lord of the Rings. You’d seen the movies out of obligation to your friends, nothing more, nothing less. You usually held complete indifference towards the trilogy. As a matter of fact, you’d nearly given Robin an aneurysm the day you’d informed them all you preferred the Hobbit trilogy over the original movies. 

Eddie, it seems, holds a similar sentiment to Robin. 

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” he sighs dramatically, sinking into the couch and looking far more comfortable than he had previously. A bottle of cheap beer dangles carelessly in his hand. He’d decided to grab both of you one the moment this argument had begun, “You casually bring up Gandalf, and then you proceed to have the worst opinions on the greatest franchise of all time. A crime against humanity.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely through genuine laughter. 

You were laughing. You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch, in his apartment, laughing with him rather than at him. It was a fluke in the system, a blip in the Universe. You tell yourself it’s just the effects of the beer. 

“What’s next? You tell me you prefer Star Wars over Star Trek? Or, let me guess, you’ve never read the books?” 

He looks nice like this, at ease. This hour might be setting the track record for the longest the two of you had gone without insulting one another, and you begin to wonder why you’d never been able to hold such a civil conversation with him before tonight. The two of you might not be agreeing or seeing completely eye to eye, but there was enough agreement to keep the entire debate chugging along. 

He notices your silence as you take a sip of the beer you’ve nearly polished off, smirking around the rim of it, a bit of beer lingering at the corner of your mouth. “Oh my God. You’ve never read the books.” 

“I never said that!”

“You never said you did!”

Your mouth is open, fighting back at the curl of the corners, unable to defend yourself because he was right. “I- Who even reads anymore?” 

“Excuse me?” his voice pitches as he sits up straight suddenly, “Oh, no. There’s no way you just said that. There’s no way you don’t read.” 

You shrug, and his beer is quickly set to the side. 

“C’mon, everyone reads. You’ve got to have a guilty pleasure book.” 

“Nope,” you tuck your bottle between your thighs, and catch the way his eyes had followed the bottle before snapping back to yours, “I just prefer the movies, I guess.” 

“No one prefers the movies. You’re a goddamn liar,” he shakes his head and some of the frizzy curls fall against his collar bones rather than continuing to tickle his shoulders, “You have to read something. Romance novels, boring essays, the news. Hell, even magazines or that written porn shi-” he cuts off when you smile at the mention of magazines. “Why are you smiling like that? Stop it. It’s creepy. Do you read those porno books?”

“God, no,” you laugh. A lie - you’d certainly read excerpts from Fifty Shades of Grey he was referencing to understand what the hype was to no prevail, “Just ironic you bring up magazines. You probably consider yourself a real connoisseur, don’t you?” 

He flushes crimson. His cheeks that had tinged pink from the warmth of the beer are now flaming red. “I have no idea what you mean.”

He clearly did. 

“Right,” you drawl, “So which article in that Playboy caught your eye? The one about the psychological deep dive into what makes sex so great, or the interview with that one porn star? No, wait, I got it! It was totally the one that gave fifteen ways to drive a girl crazy-”

“It’s not a fucking Seventeen magazine,” he snaps, but the malice in his voice is dull, “There’s no lists on how to get the girl, it’s a porn ‘zine, Jesus H. Christ.” 

“I know that, do you?” you press, reveling in the brush crawling its way down the side of his neck. 

He runs a hand over his face, groaning, “I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer. Fuck off.” 

“Do you just ignore all the photos of the beautiful women?” you don’t hold back your teasing, subconsciously leaning his way as your voice lilts with sarcasm, “Ignoring all those bushes? Or maybe you just prefer the Brazilian cut?” 

“I liked it better when we were talking about your illiteracy,” he deadpans, staring straight ahead at his entertainment center. 

“I never said I couldn’t read, just that I choose not to most of the time,” you finally pull back a bit, scared to push it all too far. You pull your legs up beneath you on the couch and move the beer that has gone warm to the table on the opposite end as his, “Sue me for trying to make friendly conversation.” 

You await his expected response about how this was not friendly conversation. You start to do mental gymnastics of a way to bring up the specific model he had marked the pages of, of the eerie resemblance she bears to you and a way to push his buttons regarding it. This conversation was following your script, not his.

Or at least, it was. 

“Fine. I prefer the bush, I always find the lack of hair kind of weird,” he says, throwing you off your game effectively. He stares at you with now expecting eyes, “What about you?”

You’re grateful you’d stopped nursing the beer, or you surely would have choked, “What?” 

“What’s your preference?” he clarifies, not backing down, “On yourself, on partners. Whatever.” 

“I- I don’t- I never-” you stumble over your words, at a complete loss for an answer. It only makes him smirk as he’s now the one leaning in closer, close enough to catch the smell of his cologne concentrated on him. 

You hadn’t realized you’d adjusted the boyish smell of the apartment until this very moment. 

“See? Not so fun when you’re the one getting asked the personal questions.” 

He’s right – you shouldn’t dish out what you can’t handle him throwing back into your face. 

“Fine,” you mimic him, squaring your shoulders, “Bush.”

“On yourself or others?” 

“Myself,” there was no use in being shy now, “But also on, uh, partners. Kind of unfair to expect something from someone I wouldn’t give in return.” 

He nods in surprising consideration at the notion. His face twists as if he’s taking words you’d thrown out there so carelessly to heart, as if there’s some hidden message that even you hadn’t realized was laced in the notion. For a moment, you start to believe he’s committing the words to memory before he answers you. 

“That’s fair,” is all he says. 

A moment of intense thought for that?

“What? That’s all you’ve got to say?” you scoff, and busy yourself with the beer again out of nerves. It’s warm and bitter on your tongue, but it’s better than looking him in the eyes. Warm, honey eyes you’d never really cared to notice before.

“Yeah,” he lifts his shoulders into an offhand shrug, “I mean, what else is there to say? Like you said, you can’t expect something from someone you can’t return.” 

Another silence drags out, and this time, it’s stifling. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Eddie being quiet would bother you, but it does. The lack of words in the air is leaving too much room for thought from both of you. It’s giving you too much time to think on those warm, honey eyes and those damn dimples. Trivial things about Eddie that you don’t care to remember past tonight. 

“My friend collects vintage Playboys,” you blurt out, internally cursing yourself immediately. What a stupid conversation segway. 

Should have teased him about the dog-eared pages, you regretfully think as you dare to look his way. 

His face is surprisingly smooth, eyebrows quirking up into the frayed edges of his bangs, “Oh really?”

You nod, “Yeah. Hell of a lot more bushes in the seventies.” 

A lot less of that model you like, you silently add, once more not voicing that concern out loud.

The dimples return. Those fucking dimples. “Hm, guess I should check them out, then.” 

“She collects them for aesthetic purposes,” you continue to ramble, filling the air, unsure of why you’re even defending yourself. You’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to dissect the small piece of your life you’ve offered, “It’s… It’s really cool, actually.”  

“It sounds cool,” he agrees gently. 

The other shoe is left dangling in the air, if it even continues to exist. 

You think about his earlier question, of whether you really wanted to keep up a miserable act for the entire twenty four hours. If the last hour hadn’t already solidified your answer, you knew now for a matter of fact that he had a point, even if he did proceed to insult you after the question. You didn’t want to spend this time miserable. The passing of time came easier when it was like this, all rounded-edged banter and friendly words exchanged. When Eddie Munson wasn’t being an asshole and making personal digs at you, he was actually a nice person to have around. 

You’d never tell him that, of course.

“It’s why I collect all that,” he motions his hand towards the shelving of figurines and trinkets, “I just think it’s cool, you know? I… Uh, I sort of lied earlier. Most of that shit isn’t that expensive. But it’s not about how much it’s worth money-wise, it’s just worth a lot to… to me.” 

A glimpse of crimson, a flash of vulnerability that proves that Eddie has a heart just as you do. It beats erratically, and it can bleed just the same. 

“That makes sense,” you offer in response. You may not get it, but you wouldn’t push his buttons on the topic. They may be nothing but clutter from your perspective, but the same could be said about the vintage Playboys your friend collects. The same could be said about plenty of things that are sentimental to you. “Doesn’t it get creepy, though? Like, you bring home a girl-”

“Or a guy,” he interjects, making you smile. 

“You bring home a girl, or a guy, and you’ve just got Gandalf staring you down while you make a move. Or… Or, Darth Vader?” you squint to pinpoint another figurine, “Is that Darth Vader? Didn’t you say Star Trek is better than Star Wars?” 

“Never said that,” he points at you with a tilt of his head, “I just don’t prefer Star Wars over Star Trek.”

“Have you seen Star Wars? It’s way more entertaining.” 

“Have you seen Star Trek?” he counters, but it’s clearly rhetorical as he continues on, “I like both. Having a preference for one doesn’t mean I’m completely against the other. Besides, the light saber effects are fucking incredible.” 

“So you prefer the prequels?” you ask eagerly. 

“I guess. I mean, the original trilogy is still badass and a classic,” he stands abruptly, and you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, but he just walks over to the Darth Vader figurine to pick it up and bring it back over with him as he flings down onto the couch, now several spaces closer to you rather than opposing ends, “It’s kind of hard to beat the ‘Luke, I am your father’ reveal,” his voice dips down to a deep tone, a fairly spot on impersonation, “But it was also nice seeing his origin story.” 

“Plus Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen are gorgeous,” you add, almost daring to lean over and bump shoulders with him. But you don’t. You keep what little space remains between the two of you. 

“Of course,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “The eye candy is what gets you.” 

“And the cool effects!”

“Right. Next you’re going to say you definitely watched for the plot, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“And the plot’s name just happens to be Ewan.” 

You bite down the grin that starts to ache your cheeks, because you’re not supposed to smile around Eddie this much. “Now you’re getting it.” 

The hand holding the Darth Vader figurine suddenly thrusts out in your direction, and you find yourself jumping a bit. When you don’t take it, he waves it around a bit, raising an eyebrow, “It doesn’t bite, you know.” 

“You said to not touch your shit.”

It’s a pathetic lie, you both know it. But he doesn’t know how scared you are to brush fingertips with him, how the way his arm being so close has electricity buzzing from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head. One small shift, one outreached hand, and your skin would brush his. 

It would surely be nuclear. An explosion with no survivors, least of all you. 

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve disregarded that rule the entire time, why start being a goody two shoes now?” he teases. 

Which is fine, except Eddie teases a certain way – with his entire body. His knee knocks into yours, he leans into your space, a boyish grin spreads over his lips. You’ve seen him dance around this kind of lighthearted conversation with everyone else in your friend group except you. It’s uncharted territory, and your heart nearly breaks out of your chest from its rapid racing.

You’re just lucky that there’s two layers of jeans between your knees. The nuclear explosion will have to wait for another day.

Instead of an answer, you reach out and grab the figurine nimbly by the small leg. Your fingertips narrowly evade Eddie’s and you’re eternally grateful and his arm retracts. You poke and prod, gently wiggling the red, flexible stick that serves as his lightsaber and pinch at the edges of his cape. 

In your silence, Eddie speaks, “It’s not a crazy collectible or anything, like I said. It probably would have been more valuable to keep it in its packaging, but one time Wheeler brought his little sister over while they were in town, and she wanted to see him out of the box, so I took him out. You know Wheeler, right?” 

You shake your head, inspecting the figurine even closer now. It still looks brand new; you’d never be able to tell that a child, presumably, had played with the ‘toy’. 

“Oh,” Eddie looks taken back, faltering slightly, “Sorry, I- I just sort of assumed that…. You, uh…. You had met Steve’s children.” 

“Oh!” your head shoots up from where your nose had been nearly pressed into the figure, taking in the detailing of the chest piece, “You mean Mike? I’ve heard about him, yeah. Just in passing, though.”

There’s more for Eddie to say, it’s clear in the way his mouth falls open with the corners quirked, but then you’re interrupted by a phone ringing. 

Your phone. 

Steve’s contact photo occupies the screen for the second time tonight, a ridiculous photo of him scowling at the camera in a yellow jumper while holding a can of pringles in front of him, one of his hands bringing a single chip to his pouting lips. 

“Let me answer it,” Eddie insists, holding out his hand as you stare down at the phone, still chiming annoyingly. 

“Were they supposed to call this often?” you ask, knowing well enough that Eddie didn’t have the answer. 

His hand waves in impatience, and you don’t put up a fight as you let him take the phone and swipe the answering bar, focusing instead on the Darth Vader discarded into your lap as he puts the call on speaker. 

“Hello?” Eddie answers in a chirpy tone. 

“How many times do we have to te- hold on. Munson?” Steve starts off aggressive, but his tone melts into confusion, “Why the hell are you answering her phone?” 

“Because I’ve murdered her,” he flatly replies, but his face doesn’t match his tone at all. 

He fucking winks at you. Your grip on Darth Vader tightens until you’re afraid you're about to snap it. 

“Not funny.”

“Not a joke.”

“Where is she, Eddie?” Steve sighs like an irritated parent, in no mood for games, “Please tell me you didn’t manage to make her lock herself in a room again.” 

“I told you. She’s gone. Sacrificed to the Dark Lord or whatever. Just got to go dump her body in the lake-”

You shouldn’t joke along with him, but you still whisper the correction of, “The canals.” 

“Sorry, I mean the canals.”

Another deep sigh. You can picture the way Steve was currently pinching the bridge of his nose at the two of you. 

“I heard her, you idiot. Now that we know you’re both clearly alive and well…. Where the hell is our photo proof?” 

You both share a look, and you quickly mouth, already?  

Eddie shrugs and mouths back, I guess. 

“We lost track of time,” you finally say out loud, still locked in eye contact with Eddie. His brown eyes are surprisingly captivating, several autumn shades all woven together. Burnt orange leaves, red apples, brown sweaters. You never thought you’d be able to see a season in someone’s irises, yet here you were, picturing it clear as day. “Let us hang up and we’ll send the photo.” 

Steve starts to speak, but Eddie’s thumb is quick to end the call. The moment your lock screen stares back at both of you, you look at the time. 

7:41. Shit. 

“Oops,” Eddie whispers as he hands the phone back over, “They really gave us quite the grace period that time.” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, quickly opening your damn camera app. “So, how do we want to do this one?” 

Eddie thinks for a moment before he launches himself back to his side of the couch, and motions for you to toss him your phone. 

And once again, you put your faith in him, not even hesitating this time. 

It happens naturally; you both mirror each other, drawing up your knees, your sock-clad toes bumping firmly against one another. Your back is supported by the worn arm behind you, similar to how Eddie’s is, as you face him. 

He quickly angles the camera towards you, sticking a hand out into the frame while raising his middle finger. You don’t know what to do, so one hand holds up the Darth Vader as the other mimics flipping him off. 

A soft click from your phone. The photo’s taken, and you’re not even sure if you were smiling. 

“Trade,” he leans forward, one hand holding out your phone, the other reaching out for Darth Vader. 

You oblige, and go through the same process for his photo. His white socks contrast your black ones, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards no matter how hard of a line he presses them into. You can’t look at him directly, and settle for watching him through the screen as you hit the small grey button to snap the photo. 

Just as quickly as he had shoved away from you, he’s back at your side, watching you send off the photos to the group chat with a thumbs up emoji. You take a deep breath, scanning over the pair of photos until it’s confirmed that they’re delivered, and lock your phone. Your brows are furrowed in your reflection staring back at you through the black screen. 

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours?” Eddie’s voice echoes in your mind. 

No, you don’t. No matter how wrong this levity with Eddie feels, no matter how uncomfortable it is each time you remember that he’s meant to be the enemy and not someone to share laughter and smiles with, you don’t want to waste these remaining twenty hours being miserable. 

“What’s up?” Eddie’s actual voice echoes in real time as you continue to stare at your reflection.

“Just thinking,” you grunt. The thought of admitting your decision to Eddie is much more intimidating than simply acknowledging it to yourself. 

“Dangerous.” 

Instead of quipping something rude back, you decide to be vulnerable with Eddie. You decide to crack yourself open just a small bit, just as he had done microscopically when he spoke of his collection of items. It’s a dangerous gamble, and you don’t give yourself the chance to overthink it. 

“You were right, earlier,” you force the words out, fighting the way they try to cling onto your tongue and remain safely in your throat. 

“About… what?” He looks distrusting, and for good reason. He said plenty of things earlier - you could be preparing to remind him of any number of rude things he’d spewed. 

“About keeping up the miserable act,” you explain, turning your head to him and abandoning the phone, “You were right. I don’t want to be miserable this entire time. It… It goes by faster when we’re not about to strangle each other, believe it or not.” 

You swear you see his shoulders sag in relief. “Well, yeah, I could have told you that. I did tell you that, actually.” 

“Shut up,” you force a scowl, “My point is… I don’t know, maybe, we could try to- try to just- we could be-”

“Civil?” he finishes the sentence you stumble over. 

You nod, “Yeah. We could be civil.”

The word feels foreign on your tongue. Civility was not something you’d ever considered with Eddie, but the last hour had proven it to be possible. 

“Okay,” he nods along with you. He turns his entire body to face you, knees once again bumping as he sticks out a hand for you to shake, “Deal. We will try to be civil the rest of the time.” 

“Civil,” you repeat yourself again, more sure this time, still staring at his offered hand.

An olive branch. The opportunity to work together to survive the next twenty hours. The opportunity for his bare skin against yours. 

You think again of nuclear explosions and pulsing electricity, of open chests and matching scarlets, of smashing glasses against walls and ruined parties, of wounds healing over in scar tissues as they glow a gentle pink.

Civil. You wonder if that’s one of the words they’ll include on your gravestone as you reach out your hand and let Eddie’s palm meet yours. 

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[l-in-the-light]

One Piece Chapter 1126 commentary

Fresh spoilers under cut!

Yes, Luffy, you're right. Anyone would be curious after 100 years. I just can't with Luffy sometimes. I still wonder if this serves as foreshadowing that Luffy will become immortal smh.

Such cheerful idiots. They remind me so much of Zoro and Sanji, and they also served as parallel to them all the way back in Little Garden too.

Just look at them. They love each other so much, my god. I guess in One Piece, fighting each other constantly means you just love them so much you can't refuse any opportunity to interact, geez.

Also it's so sweet that Dory and Broggy still keep it a secret that their weapons broke down because they helped Strawhats leave the island. They will take that secret to their graves, won't they.

This is so wholesome. Kuma's consciousness might be barely there, he can't even speak, but Bonney knows it's still her dad and wants to just spend time with him together <3

I admit this hit me right in the feels. Bartolomeo knows that if he asked for help, Luffy would run miles to him, but he just won't because he doesn't want to be a burden.

I don't think I ever saw Shanks doing that expression before... I wonder if Bartolomeo's words just hit too close to home.

Also hi Shanks, finally I get to see you more often than once every 200 chapters, about the effing time. Don't spoil me too much or I might expect seeing you more often from now on, and I'm not ready for the disappointment if that's not the case!

"Softer than I expected", oh, Bartolomeo, you have NO IDEA. He's so right though.

Oh. My. God. When was the last time I saw you smile like that, Shanks?? Must be a thousand years ago! All the way back when Ace visited you and thanked you for saving Luffy's life. And before that? Must be in East Blue with Luffy. It was way too long. Please smile more often, you doofus! Bartolomeo, honestly thank you for exisiting. You made this man smile like this again <3 also you're a chad Barto, please, you're great.

Also Shanks, you have no idea how many people are doting on Luffy! Lots of very nice people. I wish you could have met Law as well...

And boom, another young pirate crew got eradicated. Seeing Shanks reactions in this chapter though makes me more convinced that Kid will be fine and alive too. Narrator in One Piece is so unreliable lol.

Speaking of narrator in One Piece... who is it actually? Who is commenting the events for us? Is it you, Morgans?? Admit it, you stupid bird!!

I don't believe you even for a second Kuzan. Not after that trick you pulled off with Saul. You clearly did everything you could to SAVE Garp's life there. He was in such a bad shape too, after all. Garp's rep is insane btw. And he looks a lot like Ace locked away forever ago in Impel Down...

Big bro and Big Sis? Caribou, do you mean Devon and Augur by that? LOL. Or does Caribou actually have a big sis??

Hello, new adventure of Strawhats in a Lego land! God, how much I envy them! I also want to explore a lego land!

Okay, so what happened here. Did they shrink and now they're dolls in a lego house? Because this is not Elbaf. It's not like I thought it will be Elbaf anyway, I read a good theory that Elbaf won't happen yet, we're entering floating storyline arc. It might be wrong, because it predicted Strawhats somehow landing in G-14 base (which is supposed to be somewhat near to Egghead, that's where the kids from Punk Hazard are kept, as well as many Sword members are part of it).

But let's explore the possible explanations that were given to us in this chapter alone:

Robin's idea is a funny one. But Robin's ideas and visions are always wrong, that's like the repeated gag in One Piece lol. So I'm not placing a bet on that (also what sort of fish has a lego mansion inside it's stomach).

"There's a chance it'll make you hallucinate". Interesting. And it's called Green Fairy huh. We see Sanji, Zoro, Nami and Usopp getting seriously drunk with it. Coincidentally, those are the Strawhats that are currently missing in action (+Luffy and possibly Chopper as well?). Actually, the whole Sunny is missing. What could make a whole ship just disappear? I mean, it was even tied up to the Giants ship, wasn't it?

Yep, seems it was. Probably using Sunny's anchor. Which means, if a fish actually swallowed them up, it would be dangling on that anchor. But anyway I didn't buy Robin's comment anyway, no one should lol.

So someone had to undo that anchor for the ship to leave... and here's my most logical conclusion to that: it was Luffy. Luffy doesn't like to drink. For some reason he abducted them somewhere? I mean it's not exactly something impossible for Luffy to do. The crew also somehow pins it down on Luffy, just look at this:

Or, it was someone else capable of stealing a whole ship. There's one problem with this idea though. We were just watching reactions from folks all around the world about Vegapunk's broadcast. We basically know where everyone is and what they're doing (which excludes possibility that it was for example a prank from Shanks), besides literally a few exceptions, like most of Luffy's grand fleet. I can't help but notice Law is still missing in action too.

Right before the environment is revealed to us, Nami comments this must be all alcohol's fault. And that's indeed my guess on what's happening: Nami is experiencing a hallucination from drinking too much of Green Fairy. Which means she isn't a reliable narrator right now and what we're seeing isn't 100% accurate. I still envy her though. I also want to be in a Legoland <3

There's also the chapter's title: 落とし前 (otoshimae) which means: payback, return of favour, taking responsibility, but the most known association is with the yakuza's custom of cutting off a finger as apology for making a blunder. We saw one of such examples happen in this chapter: Bartolomeo had to suck it up because he messed with Shanks and Shanks couldn't let it slide.

I admit I thought it's gonna be a red herring plotline, but Oda actually delivered on that promise! I'm glad I was wrong, ha! This was delicious. Bartolomeo drinking a fake poison to show his loyalty to Strawhats was absolutely fantastic. And Shanks testing him in such a way is so disgusting but also awesome. He cares so much to make sure people around Luffy are actually good people... Shanks and Bartolomeo's encounter is basically two biggest fanboys of Luffy meeting up and it's gotta make this my most favourite chapter for a while now <3

Next, we could probably see "taking responsibility" also in what happened at the very end of the chapter. Strawhats got literally drunk, yeah, so they're literally taking responsibility now for it. But it could also suggest someone kidnapped them to either 1. give them payback 2. repay a favour (despite the ominous line at the end of the chapter, I think it might be the latter actually. But we will see). Wouldn't be the first time Oda uses subtle hints like that to let us know what's actually going on.

There's probably a few more tie-ins to the title in this chapter. Dory and Broggy still gonna continue their duel (it's also taking responsibility, right? Once said words can't be taken back), Bonney and Kuma (she took him with her so she's now taking care of him instead of feasting with others), Blackbeard and Kuzan (Kuzan kinda took responsibility over what happened and made up for the losses when he took Garp hostage). I'm not sure how accurate it is though, because I though otoshimae is related to "making up for some wrongdoing or a mistake", not just taking responsibility for your own actions (or collectively for the whole group). But it might be both, I guess?

But then we can't ignore a tiny callback to that line Zoro says in Water 7 here: "we need to take responsibility for accepting Robin into the crew and that's why now we have to decide: is she a crewmate or an enemy?" The word he uses back then is also "otoshimae".

I'm so into this story's development right now, I literally can't wait for the next chapter! I liked the lore in Egghead, but futuristic islands are just not my type of thing in general. Whatever is happening now, I'm so into it already haha.

[riality-check]

Things you said through someone else -- steddie! For the ask thingy 😄💛

(This is so old but I finally have the energy and the idea for it, so here we go!)

Steve cheers every time it starts raining. He's not a fan of getting rained on, and lightning makes him uneasy after a few too many trips to the Upside Down, but rain means people stay inside, and when people stay inside, they're not at Family Video.

It is dead, and it is glorious.

Robin amuses herself by stacking as many tapes as she can on the front counter. She's up to twenty seven and has climbed onto the counter to keep the tower going. Steve occasionally blows on it , just to see the tower shake and laugh as Robin frantically tries to stabilize it.

He bets she'll make it to thirty six before it falls. There's no way she'll make it all the way to the ceiling.

While Robin stacks the tapes, Steve relays the story Dustin told him, in typical dramatic Dustin fashion, about Eddie cancelling Hellfire last night in favor of going to see a local band they really like at a bar a few towns over. He's almost at the point where he has to do an impression of Dustin doing an impression of Eddie, which is as ridiculous as it sounds, when the bell on the front door rings.

Rather than groan aloud, Steve and Robin send each other matching help me looks.

Robin hops down from the counter but makes no move to dismantle her teetering tower of tapes. Steve looks around them to see Eddie and the guys from his band walking in and brushing the rain off their jackets.

"Hey guys," he says because he knows them, he's been to a few band practices. "What's up?"

Eddie beams at the sound of Steve's voice and waves very dramatically, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he writes something down in red crayon on what has to be an absolutely drenched notepad. He passes it to Gareth, who rolls his eyes.

"Eddie lost his voice last night at the show, but that didn't stop him from dragging us here," he says. His own voice is scratchy, and Eddie elbows him for his dead tone.

Robin rolls her eyes, amused.

"Okay, but why come here?" Steve says. "If you're not feeling well-"

Jeff pokes Eddie. "Come on. You're the one who dragged us here because you can't talk."

"Well, all of us didn't need to be here," Archie adds.

"All of us have to witness this," Jeff says, and Archie nods, satisfied.

Eddie waves his hands frantically in an unmistakable stop talking gesture before he keeps writing on his notepad.

Steve tries valiantly not to laugh. One look at Robin's matching expression of these guys are ridiculous ruins it instantly.

Eddie makes eye contact with him, and Steve watches as he turns bright red as he keeps writing.

That totally doesn't do anything to Steve. Nope. Not at all. Because he totally didn't realize that he might not have completely heterosexual feelings for Eddie as of... last week.

Okay, they've been around for longer, a lot longer, but Steve wasn't able to catch on to that until very recently.

Other people's emotions? Easy, very clear. His own? No thank you.

Eddie tears off the top sheet of the notepad and hands it to Gareth.

"Jesus, Eddie, I can't read this," he says, and he passes it to Archie.

He takes it, squints, and says, "I refuse to read this."

Steve has never seen Eddie look more embarrassed. It shouldn't be as cute as it is.

Jeff snatches the note out of Archie's hand, and reads, out loud, "I was out last night and all I could think of was how much better of a time I would have had if you were there. Date, Saturday, 7:00, I'll pick you up, yes/no?"

Everyone freezes. Gareth and Archie stare at Eddie incredulously, Jeff holds the note far away from him, like it'll give him cooties, Eddie has his head in both of his hands, Robin looks one stiff breeze away from a laughing fit, and Steve-

Wait. Eddie feels the same way?

And then Robin's tape tower clatters to the floor, breaking the silence.

"Eddie, that's some middle school shi-"

"Damn, okay, guess we weren't enough fun for you, I'm joking, I promise-"

"Oh my god you couldn't even wait-"

"Yeah," Steve says.

Everyone stops and looks at him. Eddie takes his head out of his hands, big eyes hopeful.

"It's a date," Steve says. "But I'm driving, maniac."

Eddie's smile is blinding, and then, all at once, his friends pile on him.

"Let's go!" Jeff yells.

"I can't believe that shit work- ouch, Archie."

Robin laughs with them and gives Steve a hug of her own.

"You're never letting him live this down, are you?" she whispers.

"Absolutely not," Steve says.

"Alright, get out of here!" Robin says when she pulls back. "Get some vocal rest and find someplace dry that isn't here. You'll attract customers if you stay, and God knows we don't want that."

The guys laugh, high-fiving Steve and Robin on the way out.

Eddie is the last to leave. Steve can tell he wants to talk, can see how he opens his mouth before he remembers that no sound will come out.

"See you Saturday," he says for him.

Eddie nods and leaves when Archie yells at him to unlock the van.

Steve watches them pull out of the lot as Robin starts reassembling her tape stack.

When a car pulls into the lot and out comes a mother and her two kids who will definitely take every tape off the shelf and definitely ask too many questions and actually will make them work, Steve and Robin look at each other and say, in unison:

"Goddammit."

There are some people even the rain won't stop.

Though, Steve supposes as the bell on the front door rings, maybe that's a good thing.

Prompts here.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

When in Vegas

Prompt Day 11: Royalty AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Drinking, Gambling | Tags: AU, Meet-Cute, Platonic Stobin, What Happens in Vegas

"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry," Steve says, grabbing the shoulders of the guy he nearly knocked over on the Vegas casino floor. "I'm clumsy. It's apparently contagious. I caught it from my best friend," Steve explains, giggling. 

He's tipsy. 

"I see," the guy says, voice tense. 

"Sorry, again," Steve repeats, and smiles in his direction. 

"It's fine," the guy says, and Steve lets go of him. And then takes a good, long look. He's cute, but he's wearing a Knicks hat, and that's a definite dealbreaker.

He watches as the guy blushes under his gaze. Oh. Well, he's adorable. For a mortal enemy. 

"Sorry, I can't be seen talking to you. Not after last night," Steve says, swaying on his feet, and the guy looks very confused.

"Last night?" he asks. 

Steve points at his hat, "Your team knocked my team out of the semifinals, and I can't cross enemy lines."

The guy chuckles a little, and takes off his hat and examines it, like he's not sure what hat he was wearing on his own head. That's odd. 

People are so weird.

Steve slumps down on the seat at the nearest slot machine and holds his hand back, offering his new frenemy a handful of nickels. 

He takes them, and sits down next to him. 

"Well, I'm Steve."

"Eddie," the guy says. 

"What brings you to Vegas, Eddie?" Steve asks, pulling the handle on his machine again. 

"A holiday," Eddie says, and Steve tries to think what holiday he means and is drawing a blank. 

"My friends are getting married," Steve offers, and Eddie visibly tenses beside him. 

"Well, that's nice. For them," Eddie says, voice clipped, tight. 

And his voice is different than it was. Like his accent is fake. Is his accent fake? Robin would love that. A puzzle for her to solve. Where is Robin? She went to the bathroom a long time ago. 

And she turns up, right after he has a cute boy, no, a cute Knicks fan, to talk to. Figures. 

Robin's eyes are huge.

"You're…" she trails off, and Eddie shushes her.

"Who? He's who?" Steve asks, looking between them, wildly. 

"Prince Eddie," she hisses, looking at Steve like he's the weird one here. He's the only sane one, he's pretty sure.

He's drunk. But this isn't Prince Eddie. 

"Prince Eddie, as in, Prince Eddie," Steve says, not believing this bullshit. 

"Please," Eddie says again, pulling his hat down lower. 

Which, Steve guesses, would make sense. If Eddie just grabbed a hat as a disguise, he probably didn't care or know what team he was repping. So, maybe, he could be forgiven. Maybe.

"What are you doing lurking around a casino?" Robin asks, "Shouldn't you be across the pond?" 

"Yes, well," Prince Eddie says haughtily, and he suddenly has a posh little accent. Steve knew it was fake earlier.

"Well, what?" Steve asks. He's curious now. 

"My family has been trying to arrange a marriage, and I just decided to flee the country."

Steve looks at him, and he's never been able to school his face very well, and Prince Eddie must be able to read him like a book. 

"I didn't say it was a good plan," Eddie admits, a little petulantly. 

"Won't they know where you've gone? Or do you have secret money? I bet you have secret money," Robin rambles. She's tipsy, too. 

"Well, yes. They must know I'm in the United States at this point. But I haven't checked into a hotel or anything they can trace me to yet." 

"So, you're just gonna live in this casino?" Steve asks, "Is that the plan?"

"That's not the plan," Prince Eddie snaps. 

Steve smiles, this is the most entertainment he's had all weekend. And they're in Vegas. It's been non-stop entertainment. 

"You can stay with us, if you want to!" Robin suggests, overly chipper about that terrible idea. 

"Yeah, this prince-" 

And Prince Eddie shushes him, loudly. 

Steve corrects himself, mid-sentence, "-this normal man, wants to crash in our hotel room. Sure." 

"Well, he could!" Robin says, like it's an actual option. 

"We could be serial killers," Steve says. 

"You're not serial killers, don't be daft," Prince Eddie declares. 

Steve smiles, because, yeah, they're not. 

"We're not serial killers," Steve admits, "but we are poor commoners. So, still bad for you, I'd imagine." 

Prince Eddie smiles, soft and amused. 

Robin starts, "Prince Eddie-" 

He interupts, "Please, just call me Eddie. I beg of you." 

"Eddie," Robin says, "do you want to crash in our hotel room?"

"Yes, please, I think I'd like that very much." 

Steve cannot believe his ears. But, okay, sure they can host a prince for the night. 

Robin pulls up a chair in between them, and orders them all another round of drinks. 

And another. 

And another. 

Once Prince Eddie loosens up, he's actually funny. Steve reaches over and turns his hat around backwards on his head. 

"That's better. So I can look at you without gagging." 

Eddie laughs, adjusting the hat, but leaving it backwards. 

"So, you gotta get married," Robin says, like she understands his royal plight. She's touching both of their shoulders. 

"Apparently, I'm of that age," Eddie slurs, feeding the machine another coin. 

"And there's nobody you want to marry?" Robin asks. 

Eddie shakes his head, "I'm definitely not interested in anyone they deem suitable." 

Steve drains his glass, and just in time, because the waitress brings another round. They are small, and a little weak. But free. Steve likes free. 

"What's that mean?" she questions, and Robin is playing stupid. She knows exactly why. 

If Steve clocked him, Robin definitely did. 

Eddie must agree with Steve's assessment, "You're aware I can't marry a woman." 

"Well, we're in Vegas. You should marry Steve!" Robin shouts with delight. 

Steve laughs, loudly. Yeah, sure, he'll marry Prince Eddie in front of Elvis. Sounds like a solid plan. 

Then he sees Eddie looking at him, like he's considering this, and Steve's eyes go wide.

Notes: What year does this take place in? I have no idea. There's nickel slots instead of players card machines, but they can get married. So, it's just a total AU. Go with it, lol.

And I had a totally different idea for the Royalty AU, but it needed more words than 1000. Hopefully it'll go up for Steddiemas, instead. So, I had to come up with a second idea. Royalty isn't exactly in my wheelhouse, so I never expected to write two back-to-back, lol.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congrats on 300 folower 🎉🎉🎉 can I request caramel lily it's totally ok if you can't lol btw love the way you write

Thanks so much for the req! This is SO much plot with a bit of porn, I'm not sure what got into me here! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sanji x Afab!Reader

WC: 2100 LOL

Prompt: “I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” 

— — 

It was Robin’s birthday, so you and the rest of the Straw Hats were enjoying an evening of drinking and celebrating. Empty bottles littered the dining room table and your captain was asleep and snoring on the deck, distended belly evident of his overindulgence. A few of your crew mates had returned to their quarters, the hour having grown late. You sat at the wooden table with Nami, Zoro, Franky and Robin playing cards while Sanji finished up dishes at the sink. You were all a bit tipsy, some more than others *cough* Zoro *cough* but it was clear the party was winding down. 

“I’m not tired yet. What if we made this game more interesting?” Robin made a suggestion and set her hand of cards down on the table. 

“*yawn* like a drinking game? I’m in.” Zoro takes another swig from his bottle of sake. 

“How about we put real money on the table? I know I’d kick your asses if there was actually something at stake.” Nami suggests. 

“I was actually thinking we could play strip poker.” Robin smirks as she makes the lewd proposal. 

*WOOOSH* 

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Sanji was somehow squeezed in between Nami and Robin on the dining room bench when he was all the way across the room at the sink not a second ago. 

“What an incredible idea, Robin! And it is your birthday after all, so we should all do whatever Robin suggests!” Sanji hurriedly spits out with hearts in his eyes, seemingly out of breath from rushing over. 

“Absolutely not. If you think for a second that I’m going to-“ Nami protests. 

“Sure, I’m in.” Zoro interrupts her. 

“Yeah I’m down I guess.” You chime in, wanting to keep the party going. You had known these people for years now, they were your best friends. Everyone has a body, who cares if they see you naked? What’s the worst that could happen. 

“Aww come on, bros! That’s like super unfair! I’ll obviously lose first! This game is rigged!” Franky exclaims while gesturing to his lack of clothing. 

“Rigged against who? Perverts?” Zoro cocks his head and smirks. 

“Whatever, I’m out. I have maintenance to do on the engine anyway.” Franky excuses himself and heads down into the belly of the ship to finish his tasks. 

“Come on, Nami. We can still put real money on it. Well… most of us could, anyway…” Robin smirks as she looks at Zoro hunched over his drink at the other end of the table. “Hey! I have… some.. cash.. somewhere…” Zoro looks in his pockets and inside his sash trying to find some semblance of money. 

Nami sighed. She pulls a small stack of berries out of her pocket and puts it on the table in front of Zoro. 

“I’ll add this to your tab. I’m going to bed, goodnight guys.” She turns back to Zoro. “Don’t lose it all at once, idiot.” 

After Nami exits, the four of you that remained settled your first bets and started the first round of cards. 

Much to Sanji’s dismay, he lost the first three hands and has already removed his tie, sport coat and belt while the two beautiful women before him were still fully clothed. Zoro lost the next few, casually shedding his shirt and boots. Eventually, after many more hands of cards and many more bottles of booze, the four of you are all minimally clothed. Robin was winning, still in her bra and skirt. You were sat in your bra and panties, happy that you chose a nicer looking pair to wear today. The boys were both left in their pants. 

“Alright, guesshh I’m out…” a very drunk Zoro sighs out as he puts his losing hand down on the table. Wordlessly he stands up and pulls his pants down to his ankles. 

“OH MY GOD MY EYES-“ Sanji throws his head down on the table to shield himself from the now fully nude swordsman. “ROBIN? Y/N? AM I BLIND?” Sanji continues to scream towards the floor.

“WHY don’t you wear underwear! That’s gross! I do our laundry!” You exclaim with wide eyes. 

“Hmm.” Robin hums. “Carpet does match the drapes.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Screw you guyshhh… I.. I’m going to… to lie downshh…” Zoro stumbles fully naked out of the dining room. 

“I’m going to make sure he makes it back to his room…” Robin stands up and dresses herself. Hands sprout from the floor and gather Zoro’s shed clothing and neatly folds it into a pile. Robin grabs the pile and heads towards the door. “… and make sure he doesn’t permanently traumatize Chopper in the process.” 

The door slammed closed and you and Sanji were left alone at opposite sides of the table. 

Sanji cleared his throat. 

“Shall we play on, angel?” 

You roll your eyes. You were up tons of berries, there was no reason for you to keep playing, but something urged you to keep going. 

“Bring it on, Mr. Cook.” You give him a wink and you could swear your saw a drop of blood spill from his nose. 

Perhaps distracted by your tipsy flirting, Sanji loses the next hand and stands up from the table to remove his slacks. He returns to his seat quickly but not quick enough for the large bulge in his briefs to go unnoticed. You smirk. You spot his hands trembling as Sanji pushes his money into the center of the table for the next hand. 

“Wow, Sanji, that’s the last of your berries! What if you lose? How are you going to afford cigarettes this week? It’s worth that much to you?” You laugh and take a sip of your drink. 

“It’s not the money, angel.” Sanji looks across the table at you with sparkling eyes. “I’d pay any cost. I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” You couldn’t help but smile at his desperation. 

“Well…” You say teasingly. “Let’s play then.” 

Your confidence betrays you. You lose the hand. 

“Shit!” You throw your losing hand on the table. You rub your eyes with your hand, realizing that you have very little left to remove. The air in the room is different from before. Earlier it had been four crew mates laughing and goofing around, now the air was heavy with tension. It was just you and Sanji, sitting across from each other in your underwear. He was handsome and you found yourself admiring his lithe, slim body. You couldn’t help yourself from becoming aroused. 

“Well, fair is fair.” You push the money back towards Sanji and move your hand behind your back to unhook your bra. Your other arm held the cups of your bra in place over your chest as you undid the clasp. You look across the table at Sanji and his mouth was hanging open in anticipation. You aren’t sure why, but you decide to tease him a bit. You use your arm holding your breasts to push them up and together before you let them fall out of your bra, bouncing dramatically. 

“Merde, y/n…” Sanji couldn’t pry his gaze from your bare tits. 

“We still have one more round to play, don’t we?” You pick up a new hand of cards and hold it with both hands. Doing this, you push your naked breasts together with your elbows, teasing the poor cook further. 

“I… Y-yes…” Sanji grabs another hand while shaking himself out of his stupor. 

You had four of a kind, there was no way you could lose. You were going to make off with all the money and Sanji’s dignity. 

“Royal Flush.” 

“What?!” You balk at the cards Sanji had laid on the table. It was his turn to lean back in his seat and smirk. You were speechless. You stared blankly at the table for a few moments before you slide out from your seat on the bench. Sanji watched you intently. 

You turn around so that your back is towards him. You hook both of your thumbs into the sides of your light pink panties. You bent forward at the hip, poking your ass closer to Sanji’s face. You slowly, dramatically peel your panties down your bottom, revealing your supple skin inch by inch. Sanji groans as your glistening cunt is revealed to him. You straighten your back and step out of your panties. You turn around. 

“Well, Sanji. Looks like you won. I guess you could take the money…” You slink towards him and swiftly hop onto his lap, straddling his trapped erection. You place both your hands on the side of his face to make him look up at you. You gently grind your bare pussy onto his throbbing crotch. 

“Or you could have me…” You purr at him, lips almost touching. 

Sanji takes no time to weigh his options before slamming his mouth onto yours. His hands fly into your hair, trying to force your lips impossibly closer to his. His tongue forces its needy way into your mouth. You kiss wildly for several minutes before you snake your hand down Sanji’s slender torso and lift your pelvis up so you can free his aching cock from its confines in his silk briefs. You give his member a few slow strokes before Sanji whimpers into your mouth desperately. 

“Mmm… Y/n.. please…” Sanji mutters. 

You pull away and kiss down his neck. 

“Please what, Mr. Cook? I can’t quite understand…” You seductively whisper out. You lick and suck his collarbone as you continue to pump his cock. 

“Need you…” Sanji is panting like he ran a marathon, he can’t handle your teasing anymore.

“Need me what, Sanji? Come on… tell me what you need…” You bring your hand that isn’t wrapped around his member up to his chest to tweak and squeeze at his nipple. Sanji lets out a high pitched moan. 

“Need to be inside you, please angel, let me feel you…” Sanji grips your hips suddenly and firmly. He could barely form a coherent sentence. You giggled. 

“Hm…. Fair is fair…” You smiled as you lifted your pelvis and aligned Sanji’s cock up with your hole before slowly sinking down him. The stretch overwhelmed you at first as you moved your hands up to grip at his shoulders tightly. 

“Shit, angel… so tight and wet…” Sanji buries his face in your breasts as you adjust your body to his length. 

“Fuck…” You moan softly as you begin to bounce softly on Sanji’s cock. He was thicker than expected, and the anticipation had your body alight with sensation. 

“Does it feel nice, my love? Is my cock good for you? Please tell me…” Sanji breaths out as you use him for your pleasure, trying to contain his own release. 

“Mmmh…” You let out a moan as you switch from bouncing to grinding yourself onto the blonde’s slim hips. “You feel so good inside me, baby… you’re doing so good for me…” You rub your clit into the base of his shaft as Sanji hits that sweet spot inside of you. You bring your gaze to look into his eyes. Those gorgeous ice-blue eyes stared up at you with what could only be described as adoration and amazement. You saw tears well in his glazed eyes, he was clearly so lost inside the pleasure that was your warm cunt. 

“So good…” You continued to praise him. “Gonna cum…” You throw your head back and grip Sanji’s shoulders tighter. 

“Please cum on me, angel, want to feel your pussy when you cum, please…” You hear Sanji’s muttering but you were too focused on reaching your peak. 

You shriek out a loud moan as your orgasm rolls through your body. You fall forward into Sanji’s neck and stop your movements as the spasms slow down. Sanji picks up the slack and pumps his hips upwards into yours, finally able to let go. 

“Fuck, love, I’m cumming!” Sanji slams your hips down onto his and works his load deep into your cunt with a loud groan. 

After you both catch your breath from the intense love-making session you had just experienced in the dining room, you slide yourself off of Sanji’s cock and sit onto the seat next to him. You put your head on his shoulder, feeling exhausted. 

Sanji reached for his pack of cigarettes, desperately needing one after his climax. He finds the pack empty. He looks at all the money that is now rightfully yours on the table. 

“So…. I might need to borrow a little cash this week…” 

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Mean Girls (Discord Drabble) "i'm on a bit of a writing hiatus" i say as i write something that is definitely not a drabble and want to write more of...

"What in the hell are you two doing?"

Steve and Robin turn in unison to find Erica standing on the other side of the front counter, one hand hovering over the bell, the other holding My Little Pony... Something.

And Robin is smart enough not to attempt to guess which outing in Equestria the younger Sinclair sibling is going to gallivant into this weekend.

"People watching," Robin shrugs.

"But..." Erica begins, giving Family Video a sweeping glance, "The store is full."

Robin tents her fingers, "The store might seem busy, my young friend. But we have entered, Limbo."

She wiggles her fingers in Erica's direction, but the kid swats her away.

"Meaning?" Erica asks.

"The store is filled with people who just got off work on a Friday Night," Robin explains, propping herself up on the counter with her elbows, "Lonely souls. Boys and girls getting ready to impress on Movie Date Night. Sleepovers. R&R time... Sensual adult – "

"Please do not finish that sentence," Erica interrupts, recoiling.

"Boom!" Steve beams, clicking his fingers before jotting a point on their inventory list-turned-scoresheet, "Penny from the Pharmacy just picked up a copy of Friday the 13th."

"Wait!" Robin yelps, rushing to her best friend and crowding him against the computer, "How could you have possibly guessed that?"

"Because she's dating that dickhead from the dry cleaners," Steve states as if it's totally obvious, "And he only rents horror shit. Plus, Friday is..."

He raises a brow expectantly, leaning into her side.

Robin sighs.

"Friday is Date Night."

"And yet, you lose," Steve teases and honestly, Robin wants to donk him on the noggin with their stupid clipboard.

Smug bastard.

"Can I be served!"

Robin snatches back the scoresheet, certain that Steve must be cheating. He cannot possibly have a perfect score!

She turns back to their demanding customer and finds Erica craning her neck to get a look at the clipboard.

"If you won't let me join in, that is," she adds with a challenging pout.

"Sure," Steve says, breathing down Robin's neck now, a grin evident in his voice, "Can't be any worse than Rob, here."

Robin swiftly elbows him in the stomach on her way to pick up the scanning gun.

She waves it around for a moment, carefully searching for the perfect candidate and soon settles for Scott Clarke.

"Mr Clarke..." she declares, slowly raising the scanner with an Ellen Ripley level of accuracy.

"Easy," Erica shrugs, "Mr Clarke is a boring nerd. I bet he watches documentaries in his spare time, on a Friday night, like a boring nerd."

They watch as Mr Clarke does, indeed, meander to the store's (very small) Documentary Feature section.

"Wait!" Steve panics, yanking back the clipboard, "I didn't have that."

"Oof..." Robin hums, pointing the scanner at her best friend and making a kapow noise.

[promisinininining]

logos operator file #3 translation for those who want to know what went down in the chair sliding tournament

Frankly, the elite team of Rhodes Island's Operators are an unapologetically weird bunch. I'm not saying that there aren't other weirdos on Rhodes Island besides them, or that their abilities are lacking in any way. As I explained, Doctor, the Elite Operators are not necessarily unparalleled powerhouses, but they are the vanguard of Rhodes Island: a group of people who have sworn to dedicate everything to their ideals, and who have managed to fulfil that oath despite the most challenging situations.

Crossing the line between life and death to embrace a more equal vision. 

As for the "weirdo" comment... Doctor, you've worked with most of them, so of course you understand. Let me add a few details: Blaze has her own critical notifications in the medical department, because she goes into shock two to three times every time she participates in high-intensity combat; Stormeye is prone to getting carried away when fighting a strong opponent and requires someone like Sharp, who lives by "never do more than one has to", to tear him away from the line of fire; Misery's dazzling dagger-juggling skills actually have nothing to do with his Originium Arts, but inspired by a bet he made with Outcast; Mechanist's motor oil foam latte art coffee does exist, and Mantra has a penchant for quietly keeping tabs on the ship's gossip...

As for Logos? Ha, I think there are plenty of people in Rhodes Island who remember that one chair sliding race. Unfortunately, Doctor, you weren't there, but as you guessed, the tournament was instigated and organised by him. They first conducted group and round-robin matches in the workshop, then moved the finals to the training ground. The night before the finals, Logos and Mechanist made some unauthorised modifications to the operator training venue. When the contestants came to the track the next day, they found that they were actually going to face a brutal obstacle course with sharp turns and steep slopes. 

Blaze was the first to be eliminated. She relied on heat to accelerate at the start, which burned the plastic on the wheels; Mechanist, who had confidently proclaimed victory before the match, was swept off the track by a trap he had placed himself on the very first U-turn; Misery was lost in thought while going at a constant pace, and ultimately failed to get out of the way in time, causing Outcast, who was leading by one lap, to rear end him... As the seeded racers were eliminated one by one, Ace came in to take on Logos and Scout in the final showdown. Just as they were rushing towards the finish line neck-to-neck, Amiya walked in, Kal'tsit following behind her. Ace immediately exited the track, but Logos and Scout apparently didn't notice the hush that fell over the crowd that had, just moments before, been cheering loudly. All in all, Logos was crowned the winner, Scout in second, and there was no third place. Under Kal'tsit's supervision, and for the first time as Rhodes Island's leader, Amiya delivered a "stern" talk to the person responsible—Logos.

You see, the Elite Operators are just a bunch of weirdos. 

Joining the ranks of these weirdos is actually much easier than most people think. Becoming an Elite Operator doesn't require going through any assessment process. You only need to be officially recognised by Amiya, and a meeting of Elite Operators. If all goes well, you will receive a gift—a strange little key which is the only thing that can open the door in the workshop. It is only after you pass through that door when you truly become an Elite Operator of Rhodes Island. 

In case you didn't know, Doctor, each key is created by Logos himself, and it can't be stolen. As such, the keys are also seen as a token by Elite Operators. Should the bearer never come back, Logos will be the first to know, and trigger them to self-destruct, leaving no residue. 

Logos, and each of the weirdos I mentioned, knew very well the price of their "ideals".

——■■■

[gildedmuse]

With credit towards @jhaernyl who shared some fantastic doctor/surgeon humor with me that ended up leading to.....

The ZoLaw AU No One Asked For...

Where Law is a surgeon on some small Northern Island.

Recently Transfered Nurse Sabo: Excuse me, sir, there is a man here? Roronoa Zoro. He's apparently suffered a small injury.

Law: *sighs* Let me guess, that loudmouthed robot made him come in.

Nurse Sabo: No, he-

Law: Robo-ya's wife then. At least one of them is sensible.

Sabo: He came alone, sir, said he was training and suddenly felt something was off balance. I couldn't -

Law: *Going completely still*

Law: *Turning and grabbing the poor new trainee by the shoulders* QUICK! Answer me this: did he finish his training?

Sabo: Err, no, he said he was worried and he came right in so-

Law: BEPO GRAB THE CRASH CART! WE HAVE A CODE GREEN!!!

Law rooming down the whole hospital.

Law: WE CANT LET HIM GET AWAY HE IS SERIOUSLY INJURED *Pointing dramatically as Shachi and Penguin nod to one another, both grab jing gurneys and blocking off the ER exit*

Zoro: *Raising an eyebrow, though also still suspiciously holding onto his arm* Honestly, Torao it was no big deal, I feel fine now.

Law: *sighs* Zoro-ya... *looking down at the floor.*

*....And there is just a trail of blood on the floor leading to Zoro who is holding into his arm which he has (roughly) bandaged on.*

Zoro: What?

Law: .... Zoro-ya, give me your arm. Now.

Zoro: Torao, I told you, its fine, I just needed some ba-

Law: Give. Me. Your. Arm.

Zoro: Tch *hands over his stupid traitor arm*

Trainee Nurse Rebecca: *passes out cold*

Law: Zoro-ya, what has Law said about cutting off your own limbs!?

Zoro: But you always fix it and it was easier than-

Law: That's not the point Zoro-ya! You can't just cut off limbs whenever it's easy!

Sabo: So are they always like this?

Older HCA Ikkaku, who is used to these idiots: *holds out popcorn bucket to share*

No words. Her show is on.

Sabo: But none of the TVs are-Ooooh HCA Ikkaku: I said shhh!

Ikkaku: Roronoa just mentioned Doctor Trafalgar just being sour over Zoro's ankle stitches. That ALWAYS leads to drama.

2nd HCA aka Perona: *appearing from nowhere to grab a handful of popcorn* Doctor Trafalgar hates those scars. Everyone in the hospital - depth, probably the whole town - knows as much. Law doesn't exactly make it a secret.

Like catching someone up on a your favorite long running television show.

Only its live and one of the people is holding a detached bloody arm.

Ikkaku: *ignoring the wide eyes stare from young nurse* Ooh, Looks like Roronoa is going to let him attach it.

Perona: *giggling* Doctor Trafalgar is gonna give him such a hard time! Horohoro, I'll bet he wouldn't even call for the anesthesiologist!

Law: AND DON'T BOTHER GETTING CESEAR! WE'RE DOING THIS NOW!

Ikkaku: Yo, new guy, stop just standing around and get your pal there off the floor.

Perona: And hurry up, we doesn't want to miss when Roronoa finally smiles. Doctor Trafalgar goes bright red! It's SOOO cute! 💕

She's right, too, as anyone whose worked there long enough will attest. It's the best part of the whole show.

The trainee and new transfer are not sure about all this, but the employees who have worked there awhile seem to be.... enjoying it?

Law: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, IDIOT!? WHAT IF I WASN'T HERE TODAY!? AND DON'T JUST ACT LIKE IT WAS A MINOR PAIN!!!

Zoro: Hey! Last time, when Robin made me come (damn noisy witch) and I showed the lady what was wrong, she passed out and you got all-

Law: Because you can't just show our poor check in team a gaping chest wound, Zoro-ya!

Law: *eyebrow twitching* Still! You're supposed to mention when you've CUT OFF YOUR OWN ARM!

It doesn't seem fair for Torao is getting so upset with him, especially since this time Zoro came in without even being made to. Oh, and he knew it wouldn't be a problem! Torao is the best surgeon in the world, Zoro knew he'd be able to fix him.

Sure enough.....

Zoro: Oye, Torao! Look at that! It's good as new! *Bright, sharp smile* See, ai knew there was a reason we kept you around!

Law: *immediately frozen*

HCA Ikkaku: *nudges nurse* Wait for it...

Law: *frozen*

HCA Perona: *holding onto the trainee Nurse too tightly, eyes wide* Here it comes....

Law: *whole face turns bright pink, pulling his surgery mask up as if hiding* Whatever you idiot! Now, stop getting yourself hurt! I'm not sewing on any other limbs for another month at least, I swear!

Zoro: You are the best, Torao *smile getting even brighter*

Perona: 💕 Ahh, aren't they so cute? 💕

Rebecca: Are they?

Sabo: Or are they just scary?

Zoro: *still with that sharp smile as he twists his arm, practicing all his sword moves. Absolutely glowing with pride* Not even a scar, doc. You really are the best.

Law: Of course I didn't leave a scar! I'm not some useless sack of flesh like that Hogsback asshole. I would never leave you with an unwanted mark.

Zoro: *still studying his arm, smile becoming softer, warmer* You know... I wouldn't mind a little mark. So long as it was from you.

And Law's mask gets pulled up so high he's practically got his eyes covered.

(It's both.)

(They're both adorable and scary.)

[inklessletter]

Autumn of 86. Robin is working at the most boring record store of all Hawkins to save up for escaping that hellhole where she lives in, where the weirdest shit happens all the time (kids coming back to life, classmates killed by chemical leaks, another gas leak that makes the mall blow up, a murderer from Pennhurst breaking free and going in a teenager killing spree, rumours of satanic cults...). Thank god she is working there with his best friend Eddie "love at first sight is an illusion" Munson, who makes her days less painful, and who, right now, is flirting with this all beaten up guy she has never seen before.

She wants to interrupt them, but the way they are talking it is so unlike Eddie. Staring, mildly blushing, soft voices and the strangest interaction going on there when he is purchasing the first cassette he grabs and he is not even paying attention to what he is buying because this new guy can't take his eyes off of Eddie. It even takes him a while to reply to Eddie when he asks him if he wants anything else.

Robin could swear that guy wanted to say something different from his actual answer. "No. No, yeah, that's–that's all. Thanks."

And Eddie half smiles, looks down. "Yeah. Great, here is your change, man. Enjoy your Christmas Carol tape."

"What? Oh, yeah. I will. I guess," and the guy smiles, and it looks painful because his lip is split. He bites his bottom lip and looks away. "See you around."

"Yeah. See you around."

And they—they just stare.

It takes him a few seconds before he purses his lips, nods, and leaves the establishment. And what has Robin standing there, and not bashing at Eddie the second that guy closes the door after him is the fact that she could swear that this guy was... was about to cry.

And Robin is a lot of things, but above all she is curious.

And smart.

And she is stubborn enough to find her answers.

She indeed teases Eddie about him gaping at the guy like a mad man. And she expects pushback, she really does. Eddie always gives her some resistance of her teasing but when Eddie says "I don't know, Robs, I feel like I have seen him before," she believes him.

So Robin does what she does best and finds the guy.

She follows him for a while, and thinks she is doing a great job at the grocery store, following him from the end of the aisle, but she loses him for a second and runs to find him again. She runs into him him as soon as she turns the aisle, face to face.

"Sorry, hi," he says.

"Hi," Robin parrots.

And they stare at each other.

Robin is good reading people. She always has been. And she doesn't really know what she is seeing in this guy's eyes but whatever it is is warm. And familiar.

"Are you okay?" he asks. And she is a bit lost in her own thoughts to reply right away. It takes her ten seconds to realize that he was asking because they actually crashed against each other. They were so close. He was holding her by the elbows.

She immediately steps back.

"Yeah, sorry. I am so clumsy sometimes, my coordination is not what you may say, sharp," she explains rapidly and awkwardly.

And the guy smiles, and it is the kind of smile that reaches the eyes. And she smiles too.

"I bet you stand out for some other qualities," he chuckles. "You seem smart."

"I am. I think," she adds. She can't realize why she is so disoriented.

"My name is Steve. Steve Harrington."

"Robin Buckley."

And he does this thing with his face, almost like a flinch, a recognition. It is brief but it is there and Robin has seen it, and there is something so weird with him.

Steve drops his gaze, and the weirdness of this situation hits Robin. Why would someone introduce himself just by randomly crashing into someone in the grocery store? What was that familiarity feeling? Why couldn't she just let him go? She followed him there, for fuck's sake.

"Do I know you?" she asks.

Steve just looks at her again, and stares. There is this gleam in his pupils, eyes almost wet, and Robin could swear that it looked so much like hope. For what, she doesn't know.

"I don't think so," and his words sound like a lie.

"Oh. I am–I am sorry, um, this is weird. It's just that I—I have this—"

"Gnawing feeling?" Steve finished.

And yes, that was exactly what she wanted to say.

There is something that Robin feels like it's trapped in the air. Something strange and beautiful, and caged somewhere, fighting with all its forces to break free, but she can't identify it.

"It's okay," he says. "It'll go away. It always does."

Steve smiles at her and it is sad. Robin is starting to get mad, and weirdly emotional and she doesn't know where it comes from and it's infuriating not to know. Her voice kind of wobbles when she speaks again.

"You speak like a total dingus."

Steve laughs. Suddenly and bright and honest, and she laughs too.

"I do. Yeah, I do."

Something is off, but it feels so right. Robin just can't place it. And it must shows in her face because Steve says, "it's okay."

And it is how he says it, like he knows what she is going through, but how could he possibly know.

"See you around, Buckley," he says, so affectionate that aches to hear.

He leaves her there, standing in the middle of the aisle, organizing her own thoughts.

Facts: she knows him. Her body, her heart, her soul reacted at his presence, that much is true. Eddie knows him too. But they just can't remember him.

So many questions, so may things to discover.

Robin smiles.

Robin is a lot of things, but above all, she is curious.

And smart.

And stubborn enough to find her answers.

[stevesbipanic]

Boy For All Seasons

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Ao3

Eddie's holiday planning hadn't been pushed back when finals came up so it was no surprise he wasn't graduating again this year. He thought maybe he should give it a rest, Steve wouldn't be walking the halls with him come fall anyway and he's sure Steve's parents found him a nice college to go away to.

He had decided to drown his sorrows in a new record from the new mall when all his wildest dreams were answered. Steve Harrington was still in Hawkins and he was dressed as a sailor! This was too good.

"Hello, Sailor."

"Munson! What're you doing here?" Steve's mood seemed to improve seeing the older boy, Eddie guessed anything was better than this.

"Was hot, wanted ice cream, what're you doing here I would've assumed your dad would be shipped you off to college already."

"I didn't get in anywhere." Steve looked sad at this which wouldn't do.

"Well I'm for one glad you're still around, Stevie."

A very faint blush graced Steve's cheeks, Eddie took this as a win. As he left he could've sworn someone said "That's another check on the you suck side."

Armed with the knowledge that Steve was sticking around, Eddie's plans were back in action.

He wanted to do something big for Fourth of July cause he knew he'd get away with it. Maybe fireworks in the carpark and an Uncle Sam costume.

Eddie was so excited when the day rolled around, he'd been visiting the mall when he could but wasn't always brave enough to say hello to Steve.

Eddie had loaded his totally legal fireworks into his van and was practically vibrating with glee as he drove to Starcourt. However, all the joy inside him quickly left him as he arrived. Starcourt was ablaze with police and ambulances crowding the parking lot.

Eddie could barely process his legs moving as he jumped out of the van, heart in his throat. He doesn't think he took a breath until his eyes landed on Steve hunched over at the back of one of the ambulances.

Steve was covered in blood, his uniform seeped in it and his face busted up.

"Steve, holy fuck are you ok?"

"Eddie? You can't be here...Russians.... Billy....Dustin?" Steve mumbled his eyes not totally focusing on Eddie.

Steve seemed like he could barely hold himself up, Eddie grabbed the cloth that was slipping from Steve's grip and held him up by his shoulder.

"What happened, sweetheart."

"Hurts..."

"I know, Stevie, I'm sorry, I'm sure a paramedic will be back any second."

"You look funny," Steve giggled.

Eddie cracked a smile through the worry, "Yeah well had a whole little suprise for you."

"Bet I would've loved it."

Before Eddie could reply again a girl, covered in a lot less blood came up to them.

"I've got him, Munson."

"Buckley?"

Robin ignored him in favour of taking care of Steve, who's eyes were starting to slip close.

"You gotta stay awake, dingus, that paramedic said you've got a concussion, they're gonna take you to hospital, ok?"

Steve hummed a reply as he lent against her.

"You should get out of here before the cops try to talk to you, Eddie."

Eddie spared one last glance at Steve before nodding, Steve was safe for now and that's what mattered.

As he lay in bed later that night his plans for flustering Steve was overuled for his worry for them, what had Steve gotten himself into, what was he talking about Russians for, fire definitely doesn't cause bruises like that.

That night he dreamt about Steve laying hurt in Starcourt, when he woke up all he wanted was to go and check on him, he promised himself he'd keep a closer eye on him from now on.

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[sergeantsporks]

Witch Switch: All of Part 1

Part 2

Transcript Under the Cut

[Caleb is driving while Phillip sits grumpily next to him]

Caleb: So... are we going to talk about it, or...

Phillip: Oh, my god, Caleb, they made such a big deal about it when they called, it was NOT that bad! Some of the guys just bet me I couldn't climb to the top of the Noceda statue, and--

C: The guys? Your friends? Did they get in trouble, too?

P: No, of course not. I'm not a snitch, Caleb, but the point is, Principal Hal COMPLETELY overreacted. I was FINE. No one knows that museum and Statue like I do.

C: Hey. I'm proud you've made friends in high school I never had that. So I'm glad you've found a group to call your own. With that being said... promise me you'll be careful?

C: I know you want to impress your friends, but you don't have to do everything they dare or bet you to do. If you know it's dangerous, or wrong, then you need to stand up and say "no, I don't feel comfortable with that." If they're really your friends, then they'll understand. And if not... then you're better off without them, and I want you to get out of there. Stay safe.

P: Yeah, okay.

C: Good. Now that's discussed... I've got a late shift tonight. Evelyn will be coming over--

P: GROAN

C: --with dinner, so don't worry about food. Be good. Don't climb any more statues while I'm gone

P: No promises

C: Pip.

P: I won't.

[Cut to a Silent door]

[Repeated knocking]

[Silent door]

[More Knocking]

Unknown [muffled]: Phillip, I know you're in there! Let me in!

[Silent door]

U: Oh, for...

[Click as the door is unlocked]

[Panel is on Phillip, who is lying on the floor with headphones on]

Evelyn: Phillip, I know you can hear me

[Panel is Evelyn with her arms crossed, Phillip's face (smug) in a bubble next to it]

Phillip: Oh, hi, Evelyn. Sorry, can't hear you

E: Okay, cool. Guess that means you don't want dinner

P: [sitting up quickly] I didn't say that

[Evelyn's face is in a small panel next to him, smiling smugly/evilly]

[Phillip and Evelyn are sitting at table, Phillip with a fast food soda cup in his hands]

E: What are you listening to, anyway?

P: Podcast

E: 'bout what?

P: Kids who got away with killing their siblings' partners

E: Har-dee-har. What is it actually?

P: Gravesfield witch hunts

E: Ah

Evelyn: Heard about what happened today

Phillip: I'm sure you did

E: Pretty awesome that you got to the top.. [realization that she's supposed to be a responsible adult] Uh-- but-- you know-- don't do it again? And all that.

P: [Skeptical] Are you trying to be "the cool one?"

E: [half sarcastic] Oh, no, I could never be cooler than Caleb

P: Damn straight. Anyway, no one has to worry about it happening again. It was just a one time bet from my friends.

E: [with venom] Oh. Your "friends."

P: Yes, "friends." A novel concept to you, I'm sure

E: Oh, very mature.

[Cut: Phillip is now at the door, which is open]

Phillip: [gesturing towards the open door] Okay, thanks for dinner. Bye.

Evelyn: [arms crossed] No can do, Phil. I promised Caleb I'd keep an eye on you while he's--

P: [interrupting, frustrated, throwing his arms in the air] He's just at work! I don't need a babysitter!

E: [surprised and guilty] Yeah... work...

[Cut to a view of a street featuring the Robin's Roast Cafe]

E: [disembodied voice] I'm sure he's just... worried about you

[Panel features Caleb, wearing Robin's Roast apron/hat with a manager bage, twisting his hands nervously]

Caleb: Hey, uh. Thanks for meeting me here

[Panel features Principal Hal sitting grumpily at a table. Next to him, smiling and waving friendly, is Manny Noceda]

C: [disembodied voice over Hal and Manny] You... wanted to talk about Phillip?