iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

tell me that i'm wrong. www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

100

to be seen. www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

100

— heel to descend to the basement, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip over herself. …what the hell was that?

000

— i do. no problem.” she’s following nancy out, because there’s only one way downstairs, and she feels even weirder tracing her steps down. they have to part there, and robin lifts two fingers to her forehead in a mock salute. “see you down there, wheeler.” and she’s spinning so quick on her —

100

robin frowns, puzzlement briefly flickering across her features because — frankly, it’s usually /her/ getting all flustered over nothing. and she does feel her ears burn with the brush of fingertips against hers, but her reaction is drawn more from confusion than /embarrassment/. “uhh, yep, —

100

— routine differently than women. a blink, and then an eye roll, tipping her head back against the headrest of the chair to squint at eddie from her peripheral. “yeah. and you are…/not/?” brow arch.

000

robin scrunches her face up, one of her hands raising as if to say ‘dude, /what/?’ “steve doesn’t have /curls/, he has farrah fawcett infused locks that don’t even move until he washes it out.” she’s yanking on his chain, just a bit. she /has/ always been curious if guys view their perm —

100

— whatever she gets, and a quick grin pulls at her lips as nancy relents. “sounds good to me. and i /promise/, you can go right back to your writing stuff when it’s over. i…could even help, if you want? not that you need it, but—“

000

robin shifts her weight from foot to foot, watching the micro expressions flicker across nancy’s face. she knows her work is important to her, but … she also knows she has a habit of burrowing into it until it’s /finished/, hours or days later. she doesn’t want to force her. but she /will/ take —

100

hey, she’s no peeper. whatever angst he’s writing is his business alone. as for /this/ . . . of course he’s going to be difficult. her eyes roll, a quiet scoff to match as she bumps her shoe into his shin. “your curl routine.” which is a joke in itself. “what is it?”

000

― i figured you might be up for a little break?" she lifts the offered items again, movie case title faced forward now: back to the future.

000

she answers the smile with a bright, crooked one of her own, and gratefully ducks into the room with a quick glance around. nancy looked busy, as always. "oh, only for the day," robin blinks, turning back 'round to face the other girl with a sheepish arch of shoulders. "i mean, if you'll allow. ―

100

"i did," brows raise as she tips the bottle back for a sip, and she...feels a /little/ bad, honestly, but she hadn't heard a direct 'do not enter,' so . . . "aren't you supposed to have like, super hearing and stuff now? also, you didn't answer my question." she's testing his attention span.

000

plopping down next to @mxsterofstrings.bsky.social with a root beer, kicking her boots up onto the table. "so, what's your curl routine?"

000

robin buckley. @rocknrbin.bsky.social · 07/12/2025

knock, knock, on @walkemwheeler.bsky.social's doorway with the back of her hand -- she's hefting a movie case and microwave popcorn bag in offering.

000

imagine being gay in this day and age. crazy.

000

robin buckley. @rocknrbin.bsky.social · 07/12/2025

she got away. www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

100

robin buckley. @rocknrbin.bsky.social · 07/12/2025

laughing until our ribs get tough. www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

100

Reposted by robin buckley.

eddie munson. @mxsterofstrings.bsky.social · 07/12/2025

REACH FROM THE OTHER SIDE • a solo • www.tumblr.com/withswiftien...

011

oh please, don't drop me home. www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

100

"oh, shit," and she squints, like she hadn't noticed the injury before. too focused on the punchline of her joke. leaning forward, she extends a finger to prod at his busted nose. heathen. "wait, you're serious? good ole prince charming got knocked out by the damsel? not so distressed, i see."

000

― munson." /god,/ she thinks. how lucky she is to have these people in her life.

100

― short and quiet but pulling her lips wide, bright eyes finding eddie's leveled gaze. she laughs again, like a giggle she can't quite stifle in the church pews. "oh. so, you were judging /my/ taste, when you were out there with the most predictable crush by a /mile/? that's crazy work, ―

100

― speechless a moment longer, hackles slowly coming back down, something quiet and warm unweaving that mess of /badness/ tangled behind her sternum. robin sits back in her chair, cheeks puffing out with an exhale as she drums her fingers just once on either armrest, and then -- a chuckle, ―

100

― metalhead, dungeons and dragons loving, back-from-the-goddamn-dead-as-a-vampire eddie munson that's carefully extending a hand, an olive branch across the divide of their small-minded town with the same casualty of /throwing a die at her/. well...don't say robin never had a feeling. she's ―

100

― hawkins high propped across from her, and she's spilling her bandaged heart out in a way she never has before, anxiety all twisted up in a knot in her chest, and steve says /oh/ and she feels like she might crack apart like porcelain. but it's eddie munson across from her this time. it's ―

100

― together in the /romantic/ sense. seriously, can no one be friends these days? cigarette smoke is another distraction, a less-than favored smell that stains through her sinuses and -- and... and it hits. "...oh." suddenly, she's back sitting in a crowded bathroom stall with the once-king of ―

100

there's a beat where robin truly has /no/ idea what eddie is on about -- which, really, isn't all that uncommon. irony is a taste she knows well. she's too caught up in the whiplash of conversation, in the familiar distaste that scrunches up her face whenever someone assumes her and steve are ―

100

"keepin' you on your toes, harrington. you've got to stay alert these days." tongue-in-cheek, a poorly stifled chuckle cracks from her lips. kicking her boots up onto the bar of his chair. "doing anything more interesting than worrying about your farrah fawcett supply?" okay, she's bored.

000

flicks the back of @kingofpcin.bsky.social’s head as she settles into the seat next to him.

000

robin buckley. @rocknrbin.bsky.social · 02/12/2025

haven't had a dream in a long time. www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

100

— sometimes, it’s not like she doesn’t have a good damn reason for it.” she’s practically bleeding out. her mouth opens and closes a couple times before she settles, gaze fixated on the dice in eddie’s hand instead of his face. “…i mean, seriously, you haven’t been away /that/ long.”

000

robin buckley. @rocknrbin.bsky.social · 02/12/2025

— face scrunches with a severe frown, throwing a hand up over one of her folded arms. “stuck up? /come on/, eddie, i would’ve thought you’d know better by now. after everything. nancy’s probably the smartest, /strongest/ one here out of all of us, and if she comes off as uptight or even rude —

100

robin buckley. @rocknrbin.bsky.social · 02/12/2025

she can practically hear the snare set in the lull of conversation, and the longer eddie drags, the more tense she becomes. has he lost interest in his favored game of poking the bear already? or is he scoping her out for the optimized hunt? CRUNCH. razor wire snaps around robin’s ankle. her —

100

and heaven knows i'm miserable now. www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

100

— throat. “don’t be ridiculous. comparing /my/ tastes to /steve’s/ is an insult in itself.” sorry, nance.

000

— but there’s something startling in being /seen/, and she leans back with her arms crossed, guarded. eddie…doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that cares. /hell/, if he doesn’t have a /vibe/, then robin needs to get her eyes checked. but the denial is instinctual, the taste of hot iron in her —

100

“believe me, i have /no/ interest in … /biting necks/—“ disgust spasms into something else, a spike of not quite /fear/, but something unnerved in her gut, breath catching in her ribs. and it has nothing to do with eddie’s vampirism. it should be the least of her concerns, given everything. —

100

|| bluesky please free me from hell </3

010

— pretty calm for a while. kind of, disturbingly calm, right? i think el- er, jane, really scared him shitless this time. almost scared /me/, too. but…there’s a feeling, isn’t there? like an itch you can’t scratch.” like nothing is ever really over. just like no one ever really seems to be —

100

— and sure, it’s not robin’s /ideal/ way of spending her night, but…what the hell else would she be doing? it’s just. the /quiet/ is killing her. finally, she clears her throat and glances at nancy under her lashes, tangling her fingers in the fraying threads of her jeans. “so…it’s all been —

100

— she looks at it for too long. no, it’s nancy shotgun-wielding wheeler settled stone-faced across from her, ready to take on whatever evil dares to tear itself into their side of the world. like she has been for weeks. and day after day, nothing. not since their last . . . trip. —

100

— loud, whistling in and out of her nose. the tap of fingers on a denim-covered knee is a metronome no one can follow. and between all that, still, /silence/. the kind that has her blood rushing in her ears like a distant, running vehicle. it’s not even the portal that unnerves her. only if —

100