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#and theyre all in this fic
bamsara · 9 months
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"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years
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valtsv · 9 months
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are we still doing this because i have a late submission
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choccy-milky · 2 months
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💖🎊the end, & thank you for reading!!🎊💖
im so thankful for all the support i got on this story, and i wouldn't have finished it if not for all of you, and for the love i got for seb and clora. so thank you again for giving me the motivation to write this 600k+ monster, and to see it through to the very end. LOVE YALL💖🫶 (ao3/wattpad)
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ghostbsuter · 1 year
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There was a teen in the cave.
A teen no one knows and looks like he could be a wayne, stands in the cave.
"Actually, I'm a wayne." He says with a shrug.
Bruce, Batman, carefully thinks of the implication.
"Not yet," The teen, Danny, doesn't say anything. Simple smiles. "You're not a wayne, yet. You will be. But not yet."
Then Bruce sighs, dropping the batman mask in order to take in the teen.
"Does future me know of the time travel?"
Dannys smile grows into a grin, deciding to take pity on the man. "You, grandbat, have..." He makes a vague gesture. "Theories, which none of your children ever confirmed."
The bat's mind short-circuits at the choice of words
Dick is sputtering incomprehensibly, there are Baffled expression all around.
Because.
Because that child isn't Bruce's, but one of theirs.
"Who is it?" Jason demands, hand clenching his gun uselessly.
Danny continues to smile, a hint of mischief now peeking out.
The cave is filled with theories, some yell, some sob, yet all eyes leave danny.
All but one pair.
She had known the moment his body language switched just enough for her to read.
She had known the moment he disappeared before the clan.
Had known when his hand found hers, shoulders bumping.
Her heart clenches, throat dry and memories of her childhood flooding to mind.
So she asks, voice soft and hesitant.
"Am I a good mother?"
And danny looks up at cass, adoration and pride laid out plain for her to see and accept.
"You're the best."
And so they both watch the clan together, silent and comfortable.
(Cass doesn't question when she finds him, how and why. All she knows is that she's more attentive when out on patrol, looking and waiting.)
(This is how Cassandra Cain-Wayne returns one night from patrol, a child, barely out of toddler stage and clinging to her form.)
(This is how the Batclan officially meets one Daniel James Cain-Wayne, freshly washed and clothed, a cookie in hand and hiding shyly behind Cass.)
(When they meet, all they say is "Welcome home, danny," and "Good to see you again.", Danny doesn't necessarily get it, but that's okay. Maybe his new mom will explain it one day when he's bigger.)
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nibbelraz · 9 months
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I completely forgot about the second "Daddy Airplane" incident
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justaz · 1 month
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just imagining the knights who have grown used to treating merlin like arthur’s consort, letting him get away with all these things, and introducing new knights to the unspoken rules - merlin may not be the consort in title but you better treat him like he is - and carrying that into arthur’s reign as king only for one (1) feast to go horribly, horribly wrong and the knights of the round table are trying to put out these all these fires and calm all these lords and ladies feelings and trying to talk arthur down from waging war and trying to get merlin to talk to the king dammit i don’t care that you’re upset, arthur is drafting up a literal declaration of war please slap talk some sense into him all the while drafting up new rules that HEY actually let’s treat merlin like the queen instead
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dukeofthomas · 3 months
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Here's my controversial opinion; if you're trying to write Bruce as a non-abusive, good parent, you should also write him respecting his kids' privacy, boundaries, and not stalking&surveying them.
#my dc posting#dc#batfamily#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#looking thru ur kids phone tracking them giving them no privacy etc etc is deeply damaging#but yall aint ready for the ''stalking is their love language' is super toxic' conversation </3#also can we retire the JL being completely chill about it. 'batman just knows things' not being bothered their secret identities were found#out etc can we. stop coddling the batfam#i just need someone anytime to please just call them out like 'hey dont fucking surveil me' like that is actually extremely unethical#and its frankly not hard to write a batman who doesnt invade his kids privacy n boundaries etc#controversially when reading fic where theyre supposed to be healthy n getting along i want to actually feel like its deserved n good for t#hem#instead of sitting there going 'woo thats toxic' 'oh that even worse' 'why are we passing over all that'. like i dont wanna be thinkin they#should go no-contact when its supposed to be fuffy n good :(#like if you can write away the hitting n other abuse why is this the one thing that just must always stay#like genuinely it aint hard to write a parent not stalking their children. actually maybe i should remind you all that stalking is not good#or funny#like i feel like w all the joking some of us are actually forgetting its not good. ever. like absolutely never dont stalk ppl#eh idk. this is why i cant stay in any one fandom too long bc i start developing Opinions which inevitably make me hostile to like#90% of the fandom's content 😔
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sp0o0kylights · 11 months
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Part One
The drive's short one. 
Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.
What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?
(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  
"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  
"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.
"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"
"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 
"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 
Of course they were.
"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 
"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 
"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.
Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 
"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.
"What?" 
"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 
"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.
"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  
"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 
If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 
"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 
"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 
He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 
Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 
"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"
"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 
Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 
"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 
Steve pauses. 
Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  
"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.
Hook, line, sinker.
Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 
"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 
Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.
The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 
That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.
xXx
Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 
She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--
But she also can't tell him she loves him.
So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.
 Play’s more basketball.
It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.
That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…
He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.
 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 
He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.
That he should let her. 
Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 
She wants to be let go.
So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.
(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.
Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.
It's--something.
But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.
It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )
xXx
"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 
"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 
One, giant, never ending bruise. 
"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 
If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 
"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 
The same one he's already getting looks for. 
"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."
The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 
"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 
Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.
The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 
(He had not gone to a hospital. 
None of them had.)  
"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.
Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.
 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 
Just older, and with slightly better hair. 
"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 
He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 
"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 
The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 
"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.
(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 
It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 
"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"
"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 
See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 
They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 
(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 
"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 
"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 
Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 
Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:
 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 
Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 
Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.
The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 
"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 
"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 
"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 
It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 
The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 
xXx
College rejection letters come in, one after the another.
Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.
Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.
Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 
It's not that bad. 
Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  
He figures he has time to win her over. 
All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.
Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 
It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 
‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 
Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.
Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 
(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 
When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 
Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 
That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.
That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.
Better.
Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 
Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 
His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 
Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 
Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 
Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.
The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.
Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 
"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 
She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 
“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 
"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.
She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 
"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.
She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 
"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 
Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 
This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 
Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 
"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 
The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.
"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 
Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 
He’ll be okay.
He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.
A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 
He likes it.
"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 
"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 
Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 
Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 
If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 
(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 
"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 
"I'm busy." He says flatly. 
"Ste~eeeve!" 
"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 
Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 
If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 
"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 
"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 
‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 
"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 
“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 
“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 
“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"
“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 
“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.
“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 
He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.
The one he swears he still has.
Supposedly. 
("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 
"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.
Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 
In a way no one ever had. 
Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"
"Ow, God Dustin--" 
"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 
"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 
Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 
He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 
It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)
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ikarakie · 1 year
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tw / roofies
after corroded coffin goes big, sometime in the mid 90s, they go on tour. mostly in smaller venues and little dive bars, but eddie fucking loves it. drags robin and steve along with him as his 'managers' (see: freeloaders) mainly because he wanted his boyfriend with him and knew he couldn't keep birdie away from him for that prolonged period of time. it would be cruel.
mid-way through the tour, they perform in a bar. eddie likes to mill around after, chat to fans, get a drink, sign things, peacock a little. this time is no different. until robin comes up to him, noticeably alone. he asks where steve is at the same time she does. not fucking good.
they both scour the bar, and eddie's about two seconds away from ripping his hair out when robin grabs his arm and points to a booth in the corner. it's filled with girls, all in battle vests and dark eye makeup, and nestled between two of them on one side is steve. he's slumped over, head rested on the table, pillowed by one of the girl's hoodies. there's an empty glass beside another half empty one, both seemingly water. he rushes over.
they're a bit surprised to see him. when he asks after steve, they regard him with fucking suspicion. he has to show them the polaroid he carries around with him to make them soften. they explain they'd spotted him looking a bit dazed, and called him over. he'd told them he thought someone, somewhere, had slipped something in his drink and he couldn't find his friend, and so they'd squished him between them to keep him safe. eddie feels his heart burst, especially seeing the little corroded coffin pins on all their jackets and bags.
he gently shakes steve awake, presses a kiss to his temple and hands him off to robin, who carefully escorts him to the back exit where their van is parked. thanks the girls, profusely. they try to wave him off but he refuses to leave until he has all their names, has signed at least one thing for each of them and taken a photo with them on their camera.
years and years and years down the line, he still mentions them in interviews. by name. gushes about how they're the original corroded coffin fans, how dearly he loves them, and how if anyone is allowed to gatekeep in his fandom, it's them. every time he sees them at barrier for a concert he fucking lights up and calls them out. they're hailed by fans as minor celebrities, even. only they, steve (who calls them each every holiday and has actually become fucking friends with them) and robin know why they're so close.
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spookyprime · 1 year
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Here's the pics I made for the batfam reverse big bang. It's vampires. there's no fic to link lol
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itsphantasmagoria · 5 months
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I want Draco's bedroom
(follies)
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valtsv · 11 months
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my main advice for writing an enemies to lovers relationship is to resist the urge to make the characters' loathing and attraction mutually exclusive opposing forces. it's okay if they're getting weirdly into it and having Thoughts whilst also sincerely wanting to kill each other with hammers.
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slavhew · 2 months
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Dirk in the middle of a therapy session
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in all seriousness tho if you want dirk therapy hours. keep ur eyes on my ao3 account ive got some real stupid self indulgent 13k-odd words cooking and ill try to post it sometime this month
Edit: it is DONE and just shy of 14k. Go go go
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cuteiemonster · 1 month
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Honestly I don't have much of an explanation outside of I like the irony of a Blind Watcher. And. Well. Grian is right there for things to go awry like that. So,
This was created for the 2024 Reverse Big Bang hosted by @mcytblraufest !! Us artists had to create artwork for the writers to claim this time around! >:)
and speaking of writers.. my art garnered the attention of not one, but two writers, who both created fanfics based off of my art!! It's been such a cool experience seeing how differently they've both taken things and they're both VERY WELL DONE!!!!!!!!
" Glass " by @honeylashofficial
Parts make up a whole, but Mumbo hasn't been a part of anything for a very long time. He was okay with that though. The world was more than welcome to continue outside his window, as long as he had his oven and his cable tv all to himself. But every once in a while, the outside world comes inside, and he has to chase it back out with a broomstick. This time, his technique backfires in a way he never could have imagined. Or... Mumbo could count the number of his friends without even raising a hand. Who knew that a 30,000 year-old creature stealing his bed comforter could change that?
" Lost To The End " by Sary_Sary
Six months ago, Mumbo’s closest friend vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but unanswered questions. 6 months later, a strange creature appears in his bedroom, with no inkling of how or why. With no clue how this creature got there or what it wants, Mumbo is thrown into a whirlwind of confusion as he tries to figure out what is going on. Now, Mumbo has to continue trying to figure out where Grian went, all while learning what this creature even is, and how to help him without harming him in the process. To make matters worse, the only person who can help him unravel this mystery is the one person Mumbo swore he would never work with: Scar.
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howlonomy · 7 months
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Monster Clover, like this is so awesomecool.
They're such a little beast and it is amazing and please i need more, like written text even i just need the juicy lore and emotional moments that are circling in ur brain.
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HAT: RETRIEVED!!
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mirusx · 8 months
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there's nothing I love more about lcf than the fact that almost all of the main characters are survivors and how it seriously engraves into you, again and again, the importance of being alive FIRST. It's so refreshing to see an mc who prioritizes safety more than anything else, who won't push past the limits.. like serious limits of everyone just for the sake of winning(now if cale can also do this and walk his talk, it would be perfect.. but that wouldn't make him the cale that we all know and love). it provides you with this mentality that retreating doesn't mean immediate failure, and that there will always be another chance to try again. that one closed door doesn't imply a dead end but a chance to open an alternative path. it's such a simple message and yet we humans tend to forget it when we're facing adversities, a lot of times we're convinced we're forced to make self-destructive decisions... cale would prob have plans A to Z but there would never be a single one among them that has the possibility of him losing anyone even himself. so yes!! being alive is the best!!
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