Weiter prompt: fluffy platonic Stobin pls & thank you
Literally a month later and I still have so many more of these (mainly from you lmao thanks babe)… we’ll see how many I can churn out!
Also I should probably be sleeping right now. I’m not. Also I should work on “If I Should Stay” sooner rather than later because I’m running kinda low on prewritten parts but ADHD has decided the deadline is not close enough yet.
Anyways… I hope you enjoy! ❤️
“Tammy Thompson,” Robin had whispered, high on Russian drugs and shaking. Terrified and brave.
Steve doesn’t understand how she just said the words. He’s choking on them now, on any words at all.
He’d dragged her into his bathroom as soon as she’d gotten to his house. It seemed fitting, and Robin hadn’t seemed to mind. But now his ass is going numb, and his leg is cramping, and his heart is going crazy, and he can’t look at Robin.
“Okay,” she finally murmurs. “C’mon, come sit next to me. Clearly you can’t look at me for whatever you have to say.” She manhandles him over against the wall and sits next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder. She grabs his hand and squeezes it, and he squeezes back.
He finally finds words. “Y’know Bowie?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
It takes her a second, but she’s smart—a genius, really—so it isn’t long before she’s pulling him into a hug. “Thanks for telling me,” she whispers, then sits back and looks at him with a huge grin. “So?”
He frowns. “What?”
“Who is it?”
Steve groans, puts his head in his hands. “You’re gonna tease me.”
“Only a little,” Robin agrees, laughing.
He leans forward, rests his forehead against her shoulder. Loses tension in his own shoulders when she cards a hand through his hair. His next word is quiet. “Eddie.”
Her hand stutters, but doesn’t stop. “As in Munson? As in the kids’ Dungeon Master? As in the Freak of Hawkins High?”
“At least he can sing,” Steve grumbles, smiling when Robin squawks indignantly.
“Low blow, dingus,” she says, but her hand is still in Steve’s hair, so he knows it’s okay. “Tell me about him. Why?”
“I dunno, Robs. He’s just… so unashamed to be himself, y’know? I didn’t learn how to start doing that until I met Dustin. He’s so passionate about the things he likes and he’s really good with the kids.” He sighs. “And I know we’re probably completely incompatible and he’d never want me anyways, so it’s all a moot point.”
“I dunno,” Robin says thoughtfully. He leans back to look at her. “I mean, there’s that whole opposites attract thing for a reason, right? Like yin and yang. And I could see him being your yang. Passionate and excitable where you’re more even-keeled. He’s definitely the dad of the group, and I think I’ve actually heard Dustin call you mom before.”
Steve snickers. “He did. He was so embarrassed.”
“Beet-red, I know. He’s off in fantasy land half the time, and you need someone to transport you like that. And he needs someone practical to tell him when it’s time to land.” She shrugs a shoulder. “It’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, at least.”
He leans his head against the wall and regards her. “I love you,” he says softly, and strangely enough this is when the tears come. He looks away, tries to wipe them quickly, but more come the second they’re gone and he knows it isn’t going to work, not when they’re already trailing down his cheeks.
She leans into him, gathering him close, putting his head back on her shoulder and wrapping both arms around him, squeezing. “I love you,” she whispers back. Doesn’t tell him to stop, that there’s no reason to cry, and he appreciates it.
“Thank you,” he finally murmurs, sniffling and leaning away, reaching for toilet paper so he can blow his nose.
“C’mon,” she says after he’s done, smiling wide and grabbing his hands, pulling him up. “Movie time. I have it on good authority that The Princess Bride is an excellent movie to watch after heartfelt confessions.”
Steve snorts. “Whose authority?”
“Mine.” She grins at him.
“Then I’m sure you’re right,” he agrees, chuckling. “Snacks? Chips? Popcorn? Ice cream?”
“All of the above,” she agrees with a nod. “I’ll get the movie started, you do the snacks?”
He snags her hand before she can walk away. He’s not ready to be alone, but he’s not sure he can say it. He pulls gently, not hard enough to sway her, but enough she knows his intention. She looks in his eyes, studies him, and nods. “Together,” she murmurs, tangling their fingers. Steve thinks he could cry again.
He walks into the kitchen instead, Robin by his side. They grab their snacks then make their way into the living room, where Robin proceeds to recite the entire movie. Steve attempts to throw popcorn in her mouth every time it opens wide enough.
The next day they have work. Robin doesn’t say anything, but gives him a look when she takes her break. He doesn’t understand it until the door opens less than a minute later and Edie walks in.
Steve realizes she must have seen him coming.
He’s never loved her more.
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Odile is a fiery red chocobo Gabriel had found in the outskirts of Coerthas, battered and weary, but fierce as a flame. He had gathered she must have lost her way and ventured there from the Shroud, vastly underestimating he true length of the journey she had taken and the turmoil she survived. He had never worked with feral beasts before, but could not help but provide her with the care the Holy Stables deemed her beyond.
Far from the prized noble Ishgardian breeds with their luxuriously dense plumage and calm temperament, she was wild, capricious and ready to sink a talon into anyone’s eye if they so much as coughed in her direction.
For several seasons, he treated her exactly as he would a broken individual in his care. He would not step closer, but let her control the distance and close it herself. Neither would he step away until she decided to. He would not reach over to her until she raised a beak to his shoulder. He would sing to her in hushed tones, and eventually even brought out his panpipes. She gave her verdict. He no longer owns panpipes.
Over time, she warmed to his company and eventually came to be a loyal companion, though she’s yet to let him ride her, and he was perfectly content simply to let her walk alongside him on their daily strolls.
Far less familiar with avian health than spoken, he has spent quite a few moons with her at Treespeak Stables for professional care and rehabilitation, and even then she would not let any but the gentlest hands tend to her, in addition to his. It was there that his suspicions were confirmed by chocokeep Vionne that Odile did indeed exhibit behavior not unlike that of war-scarred men and ought not be expected to be a riding chocobo for the remainder of her life, if he valued her well-being as well as his own.
Since then, Gabriel’s work with her was never aimed to tame her in any functional sense, but to attune to her and simply provide the containment for her to grow more sociable and at ease around perceived threats like heavy weaponry, crowds or loud noises. Odile was possibly the one to ignite his desire to provide therapeutic treatment and counseling to all survivors of violence beyond the walls of Ishgard and the Dragonsong War.
One day, Gabriel was watching as little Yuuko played with Odile, now perfectly safe company if supervised. He watched as the bouncy lalafell tugged on her down feathers, attempting to climb up. He leaned forward instinctively and observed, noting that Odile was observing him just as intently. He returned her bid with a gentle nod and watched as she slowly bent her legs and lowered herself for her little friend to climb atop her back, letting out a quiet chirp– almost a playful one. The sight brought more joy and warmth to his heart than the eloquent bard could find words for.
Of course, she just as easily strutted off and let Yuuko fall to the ground and scrape her knees.
Ah... her first battle scars.
Alas, his fiery red ladies demand his constant care and attention. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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