#robin survives au

[martianbugsbunny]

A Slice of Life (An Outlaw Queen Fic)

Hey guys! This is a new pairing for me, I've never written anything OQ before even though I think they're absolutely adorable together, but my pal @stardreamer28 has been having a rough couple of days and was hoping for somebody to write her a ficlet, and since she also loves OQ I decided to give it a shot! Idk what counts as a ficlet vs. a fic, but it's a short'n'sweet one-shot, that's the point. It's kind of an idea of what it would've been like if Regina and Robin got their happy ending and just got to be a family with their boys, because nuts to Hades ruining everything! Read on and enjoy!

Regina watched the boys playing together from a spot on a shaded park bench, one leg crossed elegantly over the other and a fond smile on her perfectly-reddened lips. Henry was teaching Roland some of the sword fighting moves he had learned from David with sticks. Regina imagined it wouldn’t be too long before Robin started teaching Roland some moves of his own—with a bow and arrow, although probably the ones with suction cups on the ends instead of sharp points.

Roland was the sweetest little boy; those big round eyes were absolutely irresistible. They were the reason Regina had gone out for ice cream so many times lately. Besides, he had his father’s puppy dog look when he wanted to spend time with Regina, and Regina could never say no to either of them with that face.

Speaking of Robin…he came up from behind the bench and kissed the top of Regina’s head, waving to the boys. He’d been giving a seminar on wilderness safety at the high school, so Regina had moved her city council meeting back to six so they would still have time for dinner.

“Come on, Henry!” Regina called, standing up. She took Robin’s hand as the four of them walked back into downtown Storybrooke. It gave her a pleasant little warm feeling, right in the part of her heart she had once believed to be permanently frozen, to feel his fingers intertwined with hers, and to catch the little smile on Robin’s handsome face as he snuck adoring glances at her. Even better was the way their sons walked ahead of them, Roland pointing at people who passed them and asking Henry if they were in the storybook. Most of them weren’t, but he was such a curious little boy, and he already knew that nobody knew more about people’s fairytale pasts than Henry.

Dinner was at Granny’s, as usual. Robin and Henry ordered hamburgers, which Regina hadn’t been surprised to learn was one of Robin’s favorite Storybrooke foods. Roland got an order of chicken nuggets (he wasn’t adventurous enough to try to burgers yet), and Regina got fried chicken with mashed potatoes. There was no way she would ever touch one of Granny’s lasagnas—she had standards.

After dinner, they walked back to the house together before Regina had to go to the town hall. Once they were a few streets away, Roland and Henry raced each other back…not that it was much of a contest, with how much longer than Roland’s legs Henry’s were.

“See you later,” Regina said, stopping at the front gate and kissing Robin’s cheek. “Make sure the boys get their homework done.”

“I’m on it,” Robin said, with one of those soft, dashing smiles that Regina could never get enough of. “Have fun at your meeting, love.”

“Very funny.” Council meetings were boring, when there weren’t issues of villainous threats and life and death to worry about. “I’ll be home around eight.”

Regina waited at the gate to watch Robin go into the house. She loved doing that; it was such a joy to her that Robin Hood lived there with her, and that they had blended their little families together there as well. And she looked forward to coming home every night even more than she had before, knowing she had two new people to come home to, and a fiancee to cuddle up with at night.

But first, there was a meeting, and she was already running late.

#ouat #once upon a time #regina mills #robin hood #outlaw queen #regina x robin #robin x regina #Henry mills #Roland hood #storybrooke #slice of life #fic #robin survives au #martianbugsbunny writes fic

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

A whole ass zombie apocalypse wasn’t something Jason thought he’d ever have to worry about.

Not that he has to worry about it now, either, considering he just got bit.

Everyone knows what you gotta do in these scenarios. Your loved ones will cry (“awe, Dickie, you do care”), they’ll try to find a different way (“shut up Bruce. Even you can’t concoct a cure in two hours”) and blame themselves (“fuck you, Timmers, I want you to know I died because you wanted that damn coffe!”…. Yeah, he could have handled that one better in hindsight) and then, ultimately, they’re gonna put a bullet in your brain. For the sake of the group.

And it’s fine, really. Better than turning into a mindless, flesh eating meat sack. He was ready. He got to say goodbye. It’s fine.

Or it would have been fine, if any of those damn cowards had pulled the friggin trigger.

Now Jason is clinically semi-dead (don’t ask him, he doesn’t know how this shit works either) and still annoyingly in charge of his mental faculties while also harboring a rather concerning craving for human flesh.

Fuck.

#non traditional zombie au lol #prompts #the batfam couldn’t bear to shoot Jason #and in this case it worked out alright #now Jason is trying to find his family again #and make sure they don’t brain themselves by tripping over a rock #because obviously they can’t be trusted with the simplest of survival things #like shooting the infected group member jfc he’s too old for this shit #or young #anyway Jason has to juggle being a zombie and discreetly protecting his family from afar #and maybe also give them some heart attacks by play acting like the actual zombies #because f u Dick this is exactly what would have happened if I didn’t get the premium zombie upgrade! #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batfam #robin #red hood #tim drake #batman #Damian al ghul Damian wayne #Cassandra Cain #duke thomas #Stephanie brown #Alfred pennyworth

[avalonlights]

No strings attached. 🎵 | For @harringrovelovefest Day 1

Steve "The Hair" Harrington, heartthrob King of Late Night, is in a ratings slump and an all time personal low after his highly publicized break-up with glamorous hard-hitting reporter Nancy Wheeler. Just when he thinks things can't get any worse, the only guest he can't stand, glam rock revivalist and obnoxious playboy Billy Hargrove, spikes his ratings after their "rivalry" goes viral. Will either of their careers survive another fiery interview?

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanart #harringrove fanart #harringrovelovefest2024 #avalonlights art #harringrove au #steve thinks billy is a talent-less flashy womanizing sleaze #billy has an enormous crush on steve from inside the closet #bonus points if billy punches steve over a minsunderstanding #involving his manager sister max and steve's all male writer's room #aka the party aka lucas dustin and mike #what really saves steve's career is max's fling with lucas #somehow leading to max and robin saving the writing room #eleven is a bewildered ingenue superstar singer #people speculate she and billy are dating but they're besties #who no one knows bonded over surviving monstrous treatment by their old management agency mindflayer entertainment #or y'know #whatever #lmao #<3

[unfinishedslurs]

prophetic nightmares of the dead (steddie)

Eddie’s been dreaming of dying. 

It started his first round of senior year, some kind of prophetic fuck-up from his brain. No one knows except Wayne. Wayne gets it, kinda, from his time in ‘Nam. Knows how vivid nightmares can get, knows all the tricks to waking up and remembering you’re alive. 

“It’s that damn music,” he mutters to make Eddie laugh through tears, after Eddie’s woken him up again with his shrieking and stumbling out of his room. “Or that game. Your imagination is vivid enough without you feeding it, boy.”

“You’re right,” Eddie responds unsteadily. “No more of that devil shit for me. I’m going on the straight and narrow. From now on it’ll be…fucking church hymns and songs about the Lord.”

Wayne hums in absent agreement, still rubbing Eddie’s back. The glass of cold water sits heavy in his hands. He takes a drink. 

It was practically routine. 

He got better at waking up silently, at not running to his uncle after the fourth, seventh, twentieth nightmare in a row. Avoided sleeping at all, showed up to school with bags under his eyes and cranky as all hell. His grades dropped lower than ever, Wayne got more and more concerned, and Eddie kept dying every night. 

The Queen of Hawkins High wasn’t the person he was expecting to understand his predicament. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?”

“Um, you know, just... on a daily basis.” He smiles, tries to make her laugh. Every day until I get out of this damned town. 

Slowly, he wheedles it out of her. 

“I keep having these dreams,” she admits. “Nightmares. Every night, for years. It’s always…it’s always the same.”

A chill goes down his spine. 

“I’m sorry, I sound crazy.”

“No, no, no,” he scrambles to reassure her. “Keep going, it’s okay. Safe space, right? It’s just me, you, and the trees here.”

She nods, unsteady. “There’s…a monster. And he…he’s after me. And when he catches me, I always…the dream always ends with me…” She raises a trembling hand to her eyes, not bothering to wipe away her tears. Almost like she’s checking if they’re still there. 

His blood runs cold. 

“Dying,” he whispers. Chrissy lets out a sob. “Every night, since ‘83, you’ve dreamed of dying.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because it’s me, too, Chrissy.” He jumps up, pacing in circles. “I…every single night, since that Byers kid went missing. It’s not the same as yours but this is…this is fucking crazy, what are the odds—oof!”

Chrissy has barreled into his chest, clinging to him with her arms around his neck. He can feel the collar of his t-shirt getting damp. 

“Uh,” he stammers as she sniffles into his shirt. His hands hover around her, not sure what to do until he settles them around her back. “There, there?” He tries to soothe. It’s not very soothing, with the way his voice shakes. “It’s okay.”

“Something’s wrong with me,” she gasps. “It’s following me. I keep seeing things when I’m awake, my mother and a clock and a monster—“

“Shit,” he says, a sinking feeling in his chest. He’s not exactly superstitious, but he has a feeling there’s more to this than dreams. “Hey, listen, Chrissy, you’re gonna be okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

She just shakes her head, burrows in closer like she can worm into his skin if she tries hard enough. He’s never been hugged like this in his life, and he has no idea what to do with the scared teenager in his arms. 

“Here, hold on,” he says, and carefully removes her arms from his neck. She wipes her eyes, looking away. 

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“No, no, it’s cool,” he says. “Promise. I just wanted to give you this.” 

Fumbling, he drapes his leather jacket over her shoulders. Her cheerleading jacket can’t be very warm, especially combined with the skirt she’s wearing. 

She pulls it tight around herself, even though it probably sticks like weed and cigarettes and Eddie’s BO. He’s a little too preoccupied to be embarrassed about that right now, though. 

The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Chrissy startles like a scared rabbit, dread coloring her whole face, and Eddie makes a decision. 

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Looks like Hellfire’s getting postponed after all. 

They make a stop at Family Video, partially to rent a movie or two, but mainly because Henderson never shuts up about Steve fucking Harrington so now Eddie knows exactly where he works. Why the little rich boy is working a dead end job with Keith as his manager is a mystery, but it’s not one he’s interested in uncovering. Hopefully he’s on shift today. 

All of Eddie’s shit luck must have worked to make the stars align, because there he is at the counter, in all his ex-kingly glory. He doesn’t look up as the bell rings, apparently focused on whatever he has in hand. 

“Welcome to Family Video,” he calls, chewing on a pen. “Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Is that Blue Jeans?” Eddie asks, walking up to the counter as Chrissy goes to look through the shelves. Harrington jumps, slamming the magazine shut. 

“Hi, what can I get you—Munson?”

“Harrington,” he grins, reveling in the frown he gets in response. Harrington meets his eyes for one startled second before his gaze travels down to his Hellfire shirt, over his vest and bare forearms, and taking in the belt and ripped jeans. Eddie smiles wider. He oh so loves intimidating the jocks and moral majority of this town. 

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Harrington finally asks, eyes jumping back up to meet his gaze. 

“That’s actually why I’m here, I need you to pass on a message for me. We’re skipping, and—“

“We?”

“Hey Eddie,” Chrissy says, appearing behind him. She lays three movies on the counter. “I picked some out, I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” he says as Harrington’s eyebrows jut up. Chrissy is still wearing his jacket, and he realizes exactly what this looks like. Shit, is Harrington friends with Carver? They probably have some jock bro code that’s totally going to end in Eddie getting beat up, shit—

“Hey Chrissy,” Harrington says agreeably. “Finally dump Carver?”

She blinks, startled at the insinuation. Her cheeks flush. “Oh, no—“

“It’s not like that,” Eddie breaks in, laughing to cover up the panic he feels. Trying to walk the delicate line between not a queer and not stealing a jock’s girlfriend. “Chrissy here just needs some company.”

Harrington nods, clearly not believing them. 

“Seriously,” he presses. “I mean, can you really see a girl like her with a guy like me?”

Chrissy frowns, but Harrington looks him up and down again. 

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But it’s really none of my business, I don’t get paid to care who dates who.”

Eddie blinks. It almost sounds like Harrington was calling him hot or something.

Before he can figure out what Harrington actually meant, he starts scanning the tapes. He pauses on the last one, brow furrowing, before he looks between Eddie and Chrissy with understanding in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t know why the sudden change of heart. 

“Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

Shit. 

He has to clear his throat. “You have that here?” 

They don’t. They shouldn’t. It’s not exactly small town video store material. Eddie had to go to Indianapolis to find it again, he knows damn well it’s not at Family Video in fucking Hawkins. 

But the cover stares up at him anyway. 

“I found it on one of the shelves,” Chrissy says. “It looked like it doesn’t get checked out a whole lot. Is it any good?”

Eddie braces himself for the slurs. For the bored retail worker to disappear and the Bible thumping, red blooded American to come out. It’s not Chrissy’s fault, she didn’t know any better, but if Harrington knows this movie and now he knows that Eddie knows this movie, there’s some bruises in his near future. 

“It’s pretty good,” Harrington says easily. Eddie blinks his eyes open to see him smiling warmly at Chrissy, handing her the tapes. “For a, ah, certain type of people.

Well color him surprised. This is an interesting turn of events. 

“I own it,” Eddie blurts out without meaning to. Harrington’s eyes snap to him, widening at the confession. “It’s, uh, hard to find, I had to go out of town for it. That’s why I was surprised.” 

 “Oh, I guess we don’t need to rent it, then,” Chrissy says, completely unaware of the staring contest that’s happening between him and Harrington. 

Harrington looks away first. “Right,” he coughs, and goes to cancel it. Chrissy pulls cash out of her pocket. 

“Oh, Chrissy, you don’t need to—“

“Don’t be dumb,” she says. “I picked the movies, I’m paying for them.”

He shrugs, unable to fight the logic in that. He’s not exactly in the mood to spend money right now, anyways, since he’s definitely giving her a discount on the drugs after this.

“What was it you needed me to do?” Harrington asks as he prints the receipt. 

“What?”

“You said you had a message.”

“Right,” Eddie says. He completely forgot about that. “You’re going to the game tonight, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“Sinclair said you go to all his games.”

“He talks about me?”

“Dude, those kids never shut the fuck up about you,” Eddie says. “Makes me want to pull my hair out.”

“It’s mutual,” Harrington snorts, looking a bit touched. “Henderson already phoned me to ask to join the campaign, man, I’m not filling in—“

“He asked you?”

“Yeah? Wait, if this isn’t about that, then what is it?”

“Tell Henderson he got his wish,” Eddie says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m postponing the campaign.”

“Wait, really? Lucas is going to lose his mind, he was gonna be so bummed if he missed your nerd game—wait, why are you telling me?”

“‘Cause we’re ditching, Harrington, catch up.” Sinclair was excited for the end of his campaign? It makes him feel a little bit guilty, somewhere deep in his nonexistent soul. Oh, well. He’s postponing now. 

“I’m going to wait in the car,” Chrissy says, and takes the tapes and Eddie’s keys with her. 

“I see what this is,” Harrington says, leaning closer to Eddie and pillowing his chin on his hand. “You got them all riled up, and now you want them to shoot the messenger.”

“You caught me.” He grabs his chest, pretending to be shot. Then he leans forward with a grin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Maybe I won’t tell them, make them wait for the entire time for you to show up. Henderson’ll do it, you know. Then who’ll be in trouble?”

Eddie laughs without meaning to. He doesn’t believe for a second that Harrington will do it, which surprises him. But it seems like Harrington is full of surprises this afternoon. 

“So she really hasn’t broken up with him yet?”

“Huh?”

Harrington nods behind him, to where Chrissy is in the van. It seems like she’s playing music, nodding along with a small smile. 

“I told you, man, we’re not—“

“That’s not what I meant, it’s just…” he grimaces. “She’s way too good for him. And she’s never seemed…you know. Happy.”

“Really? I’d have thought you and Carver would get along, you know, jock bonding or something.”

“The only jock I’m friends with these days is Sinclair, and he’s as much of a nerd as the rest of ‘em. Anyways, even if I was still on the team, it’s like…I dunno. He sounds like a preacher.”

“The devil knows scripture, too?”

“Something like that.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. How’d you two end up hanging out anyway?”

“Oh, you know,” Eddie says lightly. “Shared visions, strange dreams, things like that.”

He waits for Harrington to laugh it off, to roll his eyes and go back to his girly magazine. It doesn’t happen. If anything, Harrington grows sharp, gets a cutting edge Eddie’s never seen on him before. Not even for the time he spent as king, looking for peasants to push around. 

“Visions? Did you see any weird dust, or animals? People acting weird? Or anything else like that?”

“What?” Eddie blinks, startled. “No? They’re just nightmares, dude.”

Actually, his dreams do involve weird looking animals. A bunch of ugly bats, with teeth that hurt. Whoever said you can’t feel pain in dreams was a fucking liar. 

They’re not just nightmares, Eddie knows. At least, not for Chrissy. Not if she’s outright hallucinating. There’s something wrong with both of them, and Eddie’s of half a mind to just drive them both down to Pennhurst and get it over with. But that’s their business, and he’ll be damned if he tells King Steve Chrissy’s secrets. Even if he doesn’t seem that bad, now, out of the fluorescent lights of their school. 

“Right, right, of course.” He laughs, dragging a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m just…on edge, I guess. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Right,” he says again. “Well, have a good day, I guess. Tell Chrissy her tapes are due back in five days. And, uh, thank you for choosing Family Video.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Eddie says, feeling equally unsteady after the weird turn their conversation has taken. He heads for the door, only pausing when Harrington calls out. 

“Oh, and, uh, Eddie?”

“What?” He pauses, one hand on the door. 

“If anything…weird happens, let me know, all right?”

He has no idea what that means. “Don’t worry, Harrington,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder. “I live weird.”

When he gets back in the van, Chrissy studies him closely. 

“What?”

“What did you and Steve have to talk about? I didn't know you were friends.”

“We’re not,” he snorts. “Me, friends with the King? Can you imagine? Nah, we share custody of some of the freshmen in Hellfire.”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I feel like…” she trails off, biting her lip raw. 

“Like what?” He encourages. 

“You called me a queen. Does that mean we can’t be friends?”

“Uh…” Eddie says, stumbling a bit. He does want to be friends with Chrissy. Even without the fact that they’re probably going to end up at the same cell in the nuthouse, she’s sweet and quiet in a way that makes him want to ask if anyone’s ever told her she can be loud. Her eyes are big and sad, but he can see a smile glancing along the edges of her mouth when he looks at her. She’s clever, he’ll give her that. He’s been caught hook, line, and sinker. “No, I’d— I’d like that. To be friends with you.”

Her smile feels brighter than the sun. 

“Then what’s so weird about being friends with Steve?” She asks, glancing towards the Family Video window. Harrington looks like he’s back to reading his magazine, but glances up like he can feel them watching him. Eddie looks away and starts the van. 

“Well, for one thing, you’re not one of the assholes who called me names and pushed me and my friends around.”

Harrington’s not either, really. Too busy standing around and being self obsessed to bother. His friends did all the pushing around for him. Wouldn’t do to get his hands dirtied with the freak. The familiar bitterness rises in his chest, and he tries to push it down. Looks at Chrissy out of the corner of his eye as he pulls out of his parking spot. 

Her smile has faded, and he could kick himself. “Jason is, though,” she says quietly. 

“How long have you guys been dating, anyway?” He asks, eager to change the subject. He pulls out of the lot, all too ready to leave the video store and the man who resides in it behind. 

“Three years.”

Eddie chokes, not expecting that answer in the least. “Three years?”

“We got together when we were fifteen,” she says, a grimace pulling at her mouth when he glances at her. Shit, maybe Harrington was right and there is trouble in paradise. 

“How do you stand him?”

“He loves me,” she says. It’s not an answer. 

“Yeah, but Chrissy, he’s like, a major dick.”

“He loves me,” she repeats. “He wants to go to college together. He wants to live in Hawkins, and have a pretty white wedding, and a job that pays and a wife that’s pretty and sweet and doesn’t have nightmares about dying every night. A wife that’s not crazy. And she’ll have his kids, all two and a half of them, and she’ll always smile and stay at home and never do anything with her life because she gave up all her dreams for him—“ 

He pulls onto the side of the road. “Jesus,” he breathes, twisting in his seat. “Chrissy. That’s not love.”

“He’s safe.” She looks at him imploringly, eyes wet. “I just have to make it until summer. He can have his pretty little girlfriend, his pretty little life. He can have whatever he wants. I just have to make it to summer.”

He swallows back bile. “What’s summer?”

She looks down. “I got an early admission. University of Chicago. I have scholarships. I’ll pack everything, and run away there, and I’ll never have to see him or my mom or anyone else in this fucking place ever again.”

“I used to hate Steve,” she whispers. “Even if he was nice to me, I used to…just wish he didn’t exist.”

“Shit, Chris, so did I. He was an asshole.”

She shakes her head. “No, because it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t because of that. I was just…jealous.”

“Of Harrington? I think everyone’s been jealous of him at some point.”

Her face screws up. “You don’t get it,” she says. “I didn’t want his house, or his money, or his car, I just wanted…”

“Him?”

“No!” She pulls her hair in front of face, looking at him desperately. “I wanted to be him, because he was…”

He really doesn’t know where this is going. “Because he was…?”

“Nancy,” she breathes with a sigh. “He had Nancy Wheeler, and she was pretty, and smart, and I…I wanted it to be me.”

Oh. Oh. Holy shit, Chrissy Cunningham is coming out to him on his ratty couch. He’s safe, she’d said about Jason, and he’d thought she was talking about all the other ways he was convenient, but… there’s safety in a shield. Easier to hide behind a boyfriend then have people asking questions you can’t answer. He’ll eat his shoes if Jason knows, but at least he’s good for something. 

She’s turning pale. “I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I don’t know why I thought—“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he says, grasping her hand as she tries to flee. “Chrissy, I—Chrissy, wait. Me too, okay?” 

She freezes. “You too?”

“Yeah, Chris, me too.”

“Like you had a crush on Nancy too?”

The look he gives her speaks volumes. 

“Oh.” She settles back down on the couch, her too-thin wrist trembling in his grip. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks, just to make sure. 

“Okay,” she says. 

“Good.” He sighs, lets go of her hand to run his fingers through his hair. “So, Wheeler, huh?”

A flush blooms across her face. 

Steve breaks the surface again, looking panicked, before being dragged back under. 

Immediately it’s chaos. 

“Steve?” Nancy calls, looking over the side of the boat frantically. “Steve?”

Robin jumps in. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie says, as something determined flashes over Nancy’s face. “Let’s think about this—“

She takes a deep breath and dives in after her. 

“Shit!” He looks at Chrissy, eyes wide with dread. “We’re not going in there, are we?”

Sounds echo from the shore. Shit, the police. 

They’ll probably die if they go down there. But if the cops find them, they’ll take Chrissy’s Walkman, and then she’ll definitely die. 

He sees the same resolve settle over her face. 

“This is crazy,” he mutters. “This is crazy! Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

 She takes his hand. “On three?”

He lets out a hysterical laugh, gripping her hand tightly. 

Chrissy counts to three. 

They jump. 

He spits blood. It dribbles down his chin, and Eddie follows it down, down, watches a few drops land on that glorious chest and thanks every god there is that he’s too scared for the frankly impressive boner that wants to form. 

Chrissy elbows him. 

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You’re drooling,” she whispers. 

“Can you blame me?” He hisses back. “Look at him! That was some fucking Ozzy shit right there!”

She gives him a look. 

He toes one of the dead bats by his foot. Ugly little fucker, with sharp teeth. It’s almost familiar. 

He doesn’t get too far with that train of thought. 

“Sense of humor still intact, that’s good.” She chuckles nervously. Then she shakes him. 

“Ow, Rob!”

“You have to stop doing shit like this! ‘Hur, dur, I’m Steve, I’m going to go into the highly dangerous portal and get eaten by bats because I’m stupid—“

“I don’t sound like that!” He bats her hands away from his torso. “Also, you seem to be forgetting the part where I was dragged against my will.”

“You can’t take any more concussions, Steve!”

“No concussion,” he says, and takes her hands in his. She pauses to breathe. They look like they’re in their own little world, and something bitter twinges in Eddie’s chest. “No rabies, no concussion, I’m okay.”

“You’re definitely not,” Nancy says as she moves in to wrap his injuries. He grunts in pain. 

“I’m fine,” he insists, and Eddie snorts. He gets a scathing look in return. 

“We are not fine,” Eddie says. “We’re in some sort of hell dimension, shit, I…” he turns in a circle, finally taking in the world they’re in. Everything is grey and barren. Red lightning cracks across the sky. 

It looks exactly like his dream. 

He lets out a nervous laugh. “What the fuck,” he says. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—“

“Eddie?” Chrissy grabs his hand, and he turns to her with wide eyes. 

“Chrissy, it’s just like my dream. This world, those weird fucking creatures, it’s exactly like…”

She turns pale. 

“Dream?” Nancy asks, sharp. “What dream?”

“It’s crazy,” Eddie says weakly. He’s starting to believe it less and less. 

“It’s both of us.” Chrissy straightens, raising her chin. “It’s always the same thing. For me, it’s a monster. He takes my eyes, snaps my limbs.” Mercifully, none of them point out the similarities with the recent killings, although all three of them straighten. “For Eddie, it’s…”

“Bats,” he says. “Ugly fucking bats, with sharp teeth. Everything is grey and desolate, and there’s this kid—“

The other three exchange what can only be described as a look. 

“I’m crazy,” Eddie pleads, trembling. Please, for the love of God, please tell me I’m crazy. Stick me in the loony bin, tie me up and leave me on the front steps of Pennhurst. Please. 

“You’re not crazy,” Nancy confirms. It feels like a death sentence. 

“So, what’s the story there?” Eddie asks, tripping over a rock. “How’d you figure out the whole ‘Prophetic Nightmares mean death’ thing, anyway?”

Steve furrows his brow. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I’m not.” Eddie lets out a laugh. “Trust me, I’m not at all. But I think some part of me had always known, you know? Like, it was too real to be just my imagination.”

Steve nods. “As far as we can tell, it’s only people who die from the Upside-Down,” he tells Eddie. “Has to be directly from it, no second-hand murder or anything.”

“Great.”

“Yeah.” He grimaces. “And it can change, you know? You might be having nightmares one night, and then you do something significant enough to change your…fate or whatever, and they’re gone. Or maybe something happens, and you start having them. It’s not always set in stone, you know?”

“Well, good,” Eddie breathes. There’s a chance they get out of this. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know all this? Like, do people just come up to you and tell you their nightmares? Do you go around asking everyone in Hawkins what they dream about?”

“As far as we can tell, it started with Barb.”

“Barb?”

“Yeah, uh, Barbara Holland?”

“The one who died from the chemical leak?”

There’s a heavy silence, where Steve looks at Nancy. There’s regret in his eyes. 

“She had a nightmare, the night Will disappeared. Told Nancy a monster took her, something with no face and lots of teeth. Nancy told her to lay off the horror movies.”

Something sinks in his stomach. 

“That night, they came over to my house, you know? We were messing around, being stupid, and Barb cut herself. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, we told her to go home and went inside. The next day, she was missing.”

“Shit,” Eddie breathes. “The chemical leak?”

“Bullshit,” Steve confirms. 

“Shit.”

Steve blinks, eyes jumping back up to his. “What?” He asks, sounding breathless. Poor guy. Those bites must hurt like hell. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie says, even though his mood sours a bit at the idea of Steve not listening to him. “I was just saying, you and Wheeler looked pretty cozy. I think you’ve got a chance.”

Steve stares at him. “…what?”

“Christ, Harrington, your ex-girlfriend! Nancy Wheeler, who leapt after you without a second thought and was giving you eyes the whole time she was patching you up. I’m telling you to win her back.” Sorry, Chrissy. She'd told him she was over that particular crush, though, so he figures it's fair game.

“Nancy? You want me to date Nancy again?” He asks, as if the idea is so far out of the realm of possibility that it’s baffling. 

“Do you not?”

“Not really.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, because if there’s anything he’s learning about himself these days it’s that he’s a bit of a masochist. “Isn’t she the perfect girl for you?”

She is. They fit so well, Eddie could see it from space. Nancy Wheeler, with her determination and fearlessness, guns in her room and fire in her heart. Steve Harrington, the hero, the protector, standing at her side where he belongs. It’s so storybook it practically writes itself. 

But Steve’s shaking his head. “We weren’t…good together,” he says haltingly, as if he’s debating on whether to even tell Eddie this. “I wanted to ignore it all. I was scared of what I’d seen, scared of the government guys whose NDA’s I signed, just…scared. I wanted to pretend like it never happened, like  everything was normal. Nancy couldn’t do that. She lost Barb, and I…told her to forget. I told her to just put out the story the Feds were selling, because I was a coward. Barb’s parents sold their house to hire an investigator for a girl we knew was dead, and god, Nancy’s face…”

Eddie doesn’t know if he wants to hear this. He looks back up at the girls walking ahead. Nancy looks as fiercely determined as usual, but for the first time, he wonders what’s behind it. 

“I hurt her, and she hurt me,” Steve continues. “I…shit, I really thought she loved me, you know? I thought we would get married, have kids, the whole nine yards. Realizing it was all…well, bullshit, that was almost worse than any concussion I’ve had, but I don't blame her. I wasn’t what she needed.”

“And now? I mean, you’re clearly a different guy than you were back then,” Eddie says, because he’s kind of nosy at heart. Steve’s being all introspective and shit, just giving up all this information for free, and he wants to know more. It’s not at all because something in him turns smug when faced with the fact that the world’s most fated couple aren’t fated at all. Are actually kind of terrible together, if Steve’s to be believed. 

“It’d just be the same thing all over again. I’ll always love her, but we want different things. Different priorities and stuff. I wouldn’t be able to keep up, and she’s not going to slow down for me.”

It doesn’t mean he has a chance. Eddie’s got, like, negative chances with Steve Harrington. Still, the little peacock in him preens. 

“What does she need, then?” 

Steve’s face is almost wistful. “She needs someone like Jonathan. He’s got…drive, or whatever. He’s someone you know you can trust to do what needs to be done. The two of them made sure the stuff about the chemical leak was published, you know that? Nancy needed closure, and Jonathan made it happen. He’s cool like that. And he’s good to have in a fight, too. Throws a mean punch.” He smiles wryly at that, touching his temple like he’s lost in a memory. “He’s passionate, and caring, and he’s so stressed all the time, but he still manages to be, like, soothing. And he’s got those eyes, you know? They’re big and sad and like, wet all the time. He always looks like he’s about to cry, but it works for him. He’s just…he’s good at making people feel safe.”

Eddie barely processes the words, too busy staring at Steve in confusion, jealousy churning in his gut. Which is to be expected, given that he’s been pushing said jealousy down for this entire conversation, but he doesn’t know how they went from Steve’s relationship with Nancy to how pretty Jonathan Byers’s eyes are. 

He’s good at making people feel safe. God, he had it all wrong. In the wake of finding out they’d lived through three world-ending apocalypses, that might be the greatest confession of love he’s ever heard. And it’s from King Steve, about a boy that humbled him so bad he drop-kicked his crown straight across the country. 

Steve catches him staring and shuts his mouth with a click. Everything has a washed, gray tinge to it, but he swears his cheeks flush.

“I’m rambling,” he laughs, looking slightly panicked. “I was just trying to say that Nancy and I don’t fit together. Not like that. I don’t really know if we ever did.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I’m starting to see why.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

“Nothing,” he squeaks. Well, in for a penny, out for a pond, right? He’s already in hell, might as well try and sus Harrington out while he’s at it. “Just…Byers? Really?”

“I don’t—“

“Didn’t he kick your ass?”

“Not you too!” Steve groans. “I already got the third degree from Robin. I was asking for that beatdown. Shit, some of the stuff I said was so nasty it makes me want to take a shower when I think of it.”

His eyebrows fly up at how easily he’d given up denial. “Gotta say, I didn’t think he’d be King Steve’s type.”

“He—I—he’s not—“ he stammers. Never mind, then. Denial still firmly in place. 

At least until Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t know why I’m trying to deny it. I can see that hanky in your pocket.”

Eddie’s eyes widen innocently. “Oh, this?” He asks, tugging it a bit for emphasis. It stays firmly in place, because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pin it. He learned after the first three he lost to miscellaneous chaos. 

“Don’t play dumb, that’s my job,” Steve complains. “Shit, I can’t believe I said all that. That’s fucking embarrassing.”

“I mean, I just tried to get you to win back your ex-girlfriend when you’re in love with her boyfriend,” Eddie says mildly. “I feel like we’re both embarrassed here.”

Steve’s flush would be visible from outer space. “I’m not in love with him.” 

“Who are you trying to convince here?”

“I’m not!” He protests. “Like, yeah, I used to be, but I’ve moved on. Firmly moved on. I love him in the same way I love Nancy, you know? Like, she’s the first person I ever loved, and he made me realize that I like both. They’re always going to be part of me. But I’m not in love with him anymore.”

Eddie’s heart takes off without his permission. 

“Don’t tell Lucas,” she pleads. 

“I won’t,” Steve promises. 

Max hesitates.

“You don’t have to tell me if—“

“I’ve been having Nightmares.”

Eddie sucks in a breath. 

“What?” Steve sounds…shit, there’s not a way to describe how broken Steve’s voice is with just those four words. 

“Ever since Billy died,” Max says. “I can’t…it’s Vecna. I know it is. He gets me.”

“Max, why wouldn’t you tell us? We could have—“

“I thought it would be easier,” she tells him, voice cracking. “If I just pulled away, I thought maybe it would hurt less when I finally go. And I think—I think I wanted to—“

She cuts off with a sob, and Eddie’s heart fucking shatters. 

“Max,” Steve says helplessly. 

“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here, and I’m sorry for thinking I wanted to die but Steve I don’t, I don’t, I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to, Steve, I don’t know what to do—“

Steve pulls her into his chest. She curls her fingers into his shirt, and he meets Eddie’s eyes over her head. Eddie sees tears streaking down his face before he ducks his head back down. 

“I’m here, Max,” Steve promises. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? I’ll do everything I can to fix this. You just keep that Walkman on.”

She nods into his shoulder, still crying. It’s violent, her sobs shaking her entire body. She looks smaller every time Eddie sees her, like she’s retreating into herself, and now she looks tiny. Looks all her fifteen years, clinging to the only adult in the vicinity she trusts like he’s her lifeline. And Eddie sees the resolve settle on Steve’s face, knows without a doubt that he’s going to do something stupid. 

“Yes, we do,” Max says quietly. Even from here, Eddie can see her trembling. 

“No,” Steve says. “No, no, no, no, no.”

She’s got a whole plan though. Outlines it with steel in her voice, confident enough that everyone nods along. If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d believe in it too. 

Steve looks damn near apocalyptic. “Max,” he says through gritted teeth, “can I talk to you in the other room?”

Lucas stands up with her, but Steve stops him with a look. Still, he doesn’t sit back down until Max puts a hand on his arm. 

“It’s just Steve,” she tells him quietly. “We just need a minute.”

No one says anything as they close the door to Max’s room behind them. A deafening click of the latch in the silence. 

As soon as the door is closed, Dustin and Erica have their ears pressed to the wood. Chrissy isn’t far behind. 

“Guys,” Nancy hisses, even as she creeps closer, “really?”

“This should be a private conversation,” Robin whispers, wringing her hands as Lucas tiptoes across the room to join them. “Like, you know how Steve gets about you munchkins, obviously he wouldn’t take this well. Honestly, I’m not taking this well, and I’m not your guy's babysitter-slash-big brother-slash-dad. But it’s the best plan we’ve got, unless we want to just let Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One to give up and find his fourth victim somewhere else and we wouldn’t know who it was and then he really will open the gates and kill everyone we know—“

She’s shushed by four different people. 

Eddie gives in, crossing the room as silently as he can to join their little eavesdropping party. Robin follows him. 

“—said you weren’t ready,” Steve is snapping, voice barely muffled through the door. Thank God for shitty trailer soundproofing. “I told you all you had to do was keep the goddamn Walkman on, and that’s what you’re going to do! We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way, Steve!” There’s a light thump that Eddie thinks might be the stomping of a foot. “It’s our only shot at winning this. It has to be me.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“What are we gonna do? Wait for him to target someone else? Wait for them to die, because I was too selfish? Because I’m a fucking coward?”

“Yes!” Steve hisses, clear as day. Their little group of eavesdroppers look at each other with wide eyes. “Fuck, Max, if that’s what it fucking takes to keep you alive. He’ll find another target—“

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“I’m not letting you die on my watch, Mayfield. I’m not letting you die, period.”

Max sounds close to pulling her hair out. “You’re not letting me do jack shit. I know the risks. I’m willing to do what it takes.”

Eddie’s heart twists. Jesus, she’s a fucking kid. He’s with Steve, on this one. 

“Well I’m not,” Steve replies harshly. “And if those guys out there knew, they wouldn’t be so gung-ho about it either. You know damn well if you told them you were having Nightmares—“

Dustin loses his balance, and falls on the floor with a thud that seems to echo in the sudden silence that follows. Everyone freezes. 

When Steve opens the door, he’s glowering. Eddie can’t help but notice the tears in his eyes. 

“Seriously?” He demands. 

“You’re having Nightmares?” Lucas asks Max, heartbroken. 

Max’s face is thundering. “That was a private conversation.”

“If you wanted privacy, maybe you should have better soundproofing,” Dustin snarks. “We could have heard you from the living room.”

“Sorry for assuming we didn’t have to ask after closing the goddamn door,” Steve growls. 

Max pushes past them all, heading straight for the back door. 

“Max, wait—“

“Max!”

“Hold on—“

Steve starts after her, stopping them all in their tracks with a glare when they try to follow. He doesn’t say anything, just lets out a derisive huff before slamming the door shut behind him. 

They stand there, crowded in the tiny hallway, frozen. 

“I think we may have fudged that one up,” Robin says quietly. No one disagrees with her. 

By the time they come back inside, everyone else is scavenging for apology food. Max is wiping her eyes, and Steve’s hands shake like he needs a cigarette. 

“I’m the bait,” Steve announces. No preamble, no room for debate, just laying it down and expecting everyone to go along with it. 

Obviously, he was hoping for too much given the kids they hang out with. 

“Will that even work?” Erica scrunches her nose. 

“Yes.”

“Wanna elaborate on that?” Robin asks quietly, moving into his space. He gives her a look, but lets her close the distance between them until she’s taking his arm and dragging him to the couch. He sits obediently, and Max immediately moves to the side Robin’s not on, leaving a bit of distance between them like she wants to be close but is scared to touch. 

“Nope.”

“How do we even know if it’ll work?” Dustin asks. “You can’t just decide Vecna will go for you instead, that’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works.”

“He’s right, Steve,” Nancy says apologetically. She backtracks at Steve’s deadly look. “Obviously, we won’t use Max anymore if she’s having Nightmares, but we have no way of knowing if Henry will come for you.”

“I could do it,” Chrissy offers quietly. Bile floods Eddie’s mouth, and he swallows it back with his protests. “He might still come for me, since I was cursed.”

“You’re not cursed anymore,” Steve reminds her. “You don’t even need the Walkman. Plus, he wants someone El knows. We don’t know that he’d come for you.”

“We don’t know that he’d come for you, either,” Lucas says. 

“He will.”

“He will,” Max affirms quietly. When Eddie looks at her, she’s staring at her own hands. 

“How do you know?” Erica asks. 

“Because I had my first vision while we were outside,” Steve says. 

That shuts them up. 

They’re distracted by Robin standing up abruptly enough to knock over her chair, yelling something incomprehensible at Steve about his “stupid box,” and where he can shove it, whatever that means, and storming off. Steve stays sitting exactly where he is, head down, looking defeated. 

Eddie and Dustin exchange startled glances. 

Chrissy creeps up to Steve cautiously. “Are you going to go after her?”

He shakes his head. When he raises it, Eddie notices his eyes are rimmed red. “You should,” he mumbles. “You’d probably help more than I would, right now.”

She nods and slips away. Eddie sends Dustin in the Sinclair’s direction, and plops down in Robin’s empty seat. 

“She not doing too hot with all this?”

Steve grimaces. “I told her where my will is.”

“Ah,” Eddie says, genuinely at a loss for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You not leave her anything?” It’s a shit joke, one that he kicks himself for making, but he laughs. It’s hoarse and cold and all too fake, but it’s a laugh. 

“Like, almost everything I have. To be divided as she sees fit.”

“Making her do all that? No wonder she’s pissed.”

Steve’s snort is real this time.

#prophetic nightmares of the dead au #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #steddie #how does chrissy survive vecna? i was going to figure that out #i think my original plan for this was some robin/chrissy as well or maybe nancy/chrissy/robin #btw that jancy speech that steve gave? biased as FUCK #when they got together steve convinced himself it was inevitable bc they're obviously made for each other #in reality they have reached granola bar levels of falling apart #eddie who has outsider pov to the whole thing and can see nancy twitch every time someone mentions her bf is like hmm. doesn't sound right #but i don't know enough about either of them to dispute it #steve gets vecna-ed

[rockingrobin69]

Hey! How are you? If you don’t mind, I would like a trick!!

Hello there! Here is your post-Halloween trick, rated M.

Wet Wet Wet

Who thought this was a good idea? Draco vaguely remembered Potter grumbling about the cold. He looked so infuriatingly good in Draco’s borrowed hat and scarf, and the rest of the day was slightly fuzzy—Pansy was probably the one who offered the estate, and someone was weak enough to say yes.

Oh, no, that was probably him. Why did he have to mention the heated pool? Why, why, could he never keep his mouth shut. Now he had a practically-naked Potter a few laps away, laughing (did he always—with that laughter, the one that made Draco’s knees turn liquid), with his wet bloody eyelashes and his chest and his arms and his. His. Draco closed his eyes and could still see it.

“Darling,” Blaise said at his side. “Chin up. You don’t have to look so miserable.”

“Noted, thank you.”

A huff more exasperated than Draco deserved. “Just go in the water, silly. It’s really so nice.”

“Will you just—” Potter gave a particularly loud guffaw, and there was no way Blaise missed Draco’s flinch. The way his hands kept twitching at his sides. The next sigh was a good bit gentler.

“Draco,” he paused, shook his head. “Hey, Potter!”

Everything froze still. From between his teeth, “Blaise.”

“Yeah?” twisting towards him in an impossibly elegant motion, coming to rest his perfect chin on the pool’s edge.

Draco couldn’t breathe. “Blaise.”

“Did you know Draco can’t swim?”

“No chance,” Potter grinned, lifting his perfect eyes to where Draco was dying. “Is that true?”

Words failed him. “I,” he said, stupidly. Begging: “Blaise.”

“Too true. I heard he was so scared to go in the water as a child—(“Blaise!”)—that he tried to drown his instructor in the practice tub.”

Potter, amazingly, magnificently, laughed. “That’s definitely a lie.”

“Aw, you have such faith in him, do you?”

He pulled a little further out of the water, so his (wet, glistening, perfect) torso was leaning on the edge, and his face was close to Draco’s knee. “All I’m saying is, if Draco wanted out of swim lessons, he’d devise a much more nefarious plan than the practice tub.”

Yes, yes, nefarious and, ah, a bead of water running down Potter’s neck stole his entire presence of mind. Tongue darting out to lick—get a hold of yourself, Malfoy. Draco’s breathing was loud enough to startle him. He couldn’t remember what they were talking about.

“All yours,” Blaise was saying in the periphery, and Potter’s eyes were so bright. “Coming, Weasley? I promised to show you the wine cellar.”

“Perfect, mate,” Weasley hopped out, sopping wet and shaking himself wet-dogged-ly on the floor. Draco would normally mind, but Potter was looking at him. “Don’t let the little snake drown you, eh, Harry?”

Potter rolled his eyes, and his hand was—oh. He was offering it to, to Draco. Draco… wasn’t entirely sure he was conscious anymore.

The sound of their leaving was wet and inconsequential. Potter laughed, waving his hand in front of Draco’s face. “Well?” and Draco, ah, would probably go anywhere he’d, ah, direct, and found himself on his feet and preparing to jump before he remembered he was still fully clothed.

Torpedo-ing out of the jumper, the shirt, the jeans, till he was hopefully only in swim shorts, jumping so fast with his heart thundering in his chest: and Potter cheered, swimming around him in circles, shark-y and gorgeous and perfect, perfect.

“Well,” he was saying, “I suppose if you really can’t swim, then I’ll have to teach you from the beginning.” Drifting behind him to hold Draco’s shoulders, one arm snaking around his belly.

He’d been swimming since he was four, had even gone on a few competitions.

“Yes,” Draco choked out. “From the beginning.”

Potter fitted their hips together, his—oh god, oh god, semi-hard cock in the cleft of Draco’s arse. “Okay,” he said, so serious all of a sudden, skimming gently fingers on Draco’s jumping muscles. “All right. So, slowly, yeah? What do you, er, want to…”

Anything you want, Draco thought. “Anything you want,” was what he actually said. Potter made a low sound, crushed them even closer together. “Yes,” Draco said, and leaned his head back on Potter shoulder.

“Slowly,” Potter said, an order this time, and Draco shivered, nodded. Potter rewarded him with a tiny kiss to the place between his neck and his shoulder. His hand kept sneaking lower to the very-noticeable tenting in Draco’s shorts. “Slowly,” again, soft in his ear when Draco squirmed, gave this half-yelp, half-curse.

Leading them back until Potter was leaning against the wall. “Fuck,” he whispered, warm and ticklish just behind Draco’s ear, and when Draco jumped he laughed.

“Better than your old swimming instructor, hmm?”

Did other people still exist? “Yes,” Draco breathed, melting into his hand. His reward this time was a stroke, and every hair on his body rose.

This was a terrible idea—a brilliant one. Potter held him and Draco was seeing actual stars. The estate had more than just a heated pool—in fact, his old room should still be prepped. Maybe he could take Potter there and… ah. His toes curled with blistering, agonising pleasure.

“Potter,” Draco moaned, and stopped thinking altogether.

#Robin's trick or treat #drarry fic #muggle AU #rated M #nefarious and smitten draco #hot and wet harry #spoiler: no one drowns but one boy sure feels like he has #877 words #rockingrobin69 #i'm surviving anon how are you??

[puppetmaster13u]

more art for @phoenixcatch7 's Possessed Doll Au I just wanted to sketch him with his stomach hatch open. Who knows what he's doin

#I didn't mean to make it look like he's about to bitch slap someone lmao #possessed doll au #Honestly was probably putting something in his stomach and got spooked lol #batman #bruce wayne #cryptid batman #batman au #dc #dcu #sketch #ibispaintx #I like to think Bruce has a crack on his doll face that mimics the scar he has on his eyebrow in his human body #Do you think a kid/robin has gotten put inside the stomach space for safety lol #Or just to fuck with people because they *saw* Robin go under the cloak but now they're just gone???? Where'd they go???? #Bruce: Why did you put velcro on the doll head- why did it *let* you do that #Robins: It's to help you keep your hood up :D #Why can I see one of the kids playing Master of Puppets (Metallica) whenever Bruce walks in and just bursting into giggles #How many tags will survive before tumblr munches them

[snowangeldotmp3]

so in Rebel Robin, though it’s focused on Robin and acknowledges the weird things that happen in Hawkins (will and barb’s disappearances, respectively), the author, A.R. Capetta, does a really good job of building Hawkins. and by building Hawkins, i mean they make it very clear that it could’ve been Robin.

in chapter fifteen of the book, November 6th, 1983, Robin is at her friend Milton’s house. They’re hanging out, watching MTV, eating dinner, etc. Robin has to go home at some point, and her only mode of transportation is a bike. Here is the scene where she bikes home.

“...There’s a rustle in the undergrowth at the side of the road. I try to ignore it. I do whatever I can to keep the strange skittering sound from sending nervous flicks of fear across my skin. I ride faster, my wheels now blazing a straight arrow down the road. I hum a little bit of the first song I can find in my head, “Hungry Like the Wolf,” but the rustle seems to get louder in response. I shout the lyrics at the top of my lungs.” (pg 120.) “Headlights pierce the night behind me, and the rustling goes quiet as a car passes. Right when I let myself believe it’s gone, it comes back. Louder. Closer. There’s another sound beneath it, soft and pulsing. Something like blood rushing through a heart or breath dragged up a windpipe. I pull onto my street and by the time I drop my bike in the driveway, I'm running scared and I don't care who knows it. I sprint to the door--thank God it's unlocked--slam it shut, twist the lock behind me, and push my back against the solid wood." (pg. 121.) "...I pick it up, hoping for a voice. Any voice. I hear a second of hard breathing and I think that whatever just happened to me is happening to someone else in Hawkins." (pg. 121-122.)

After this, the power goes out, starting with the Byers' house (as we've seen in the show), and then Robin's goes out fairly quickly after her experience (which leads me to believe that she doesn't live that far from Will. Especially since it seems like the Demogorgon was trailing after her, too.) You could replace Robin in some of these scenes with Will, and it would read almost exactly the same as Will's disappearance. It got me thinking, though, and there are two ways that this train of thought has taken me, and now you all have to hear about it.

The first train of thought is this: What if Robin had been taken instead of Will? What would that look like? Who would search for her? she's not friends with Steve or Nancy or Jonathan at this point. (in fact, she actively resents two of these people.) Besides Milton and maybe Kate, I doubt her friends would've searched for her. Dash is a mix of Tommy H and season 1 Steve, and his control over Kate is reminiscent of Steve and Nancy. (which is the point, i know.) but in this case, Barb still would've disappeared, meaning that Nancy still had to search for Barb and fight some Demogorgons. I doubt her parents would've done too much, as she states that they "don't believe in worrying." Not only that, but her parents have admitted to her that she was an accident, "My parents had me by accident (nobody gets pregnant in a VW van on purpose)..." (pg. 40.) and she's described by her parents as "not a hard child to raise" and through several scenes in the book Robin indicates that she's practically raised herself, her parents are nothing short of neglectful, only parenting when they absolutely have to. But this question haunts me because it's one that changes the trajectory of the whole show. because if this is the case, does Nancy still find Jonathan? do they really go fight the Demogorgon together? do they go searching for Barb and then find Eleven? what then of Robin? Do they go in search of Barb, only to find a dead Barb and a barely alive Robin? and what about Hopper and Joyce? Furthermore, what would happen in a season 2 situation with the Mind Flayer? Who would be there to notice if she was acting differently--possessed by the Mind Flayer? certainly not her parents.

what this train of thought proves to me is that, at least, in the first two seasons, could not progress without a character like Joyce because her worry and love for her son drive her to the actions that put this plot in motion. If Joyce had acted anything like Robin's parents, the story would have fallen apart.

The second train of thought (and a much more fun train one) is this: What if the Demogorgon got both Will and Robin? They both disappear into the Upside Down, trying to survive. I figure that Robin would do what she can to protect both of them, considering that when she first meets Will, the first thing she wants to do is to comfort him and tell him that life gets better, but the second thing she wishes she could do is to run away from Hawkins. So now Hawkins has three missing kids; Will, Robin, and Barb. I imagine that much of the season would be the same. I would also imagine that Will and Robin traversing the Upside Down would've been a great dynamic to see. Perhaps it's Robin who's trying to contact Joyce through the phone or figures out that the lights can send messages through the Upside Down--prompting Will to send his messages to Joyce. When Eleven has to find them in the sensory deprivation, she finds them and tells Joyce and Hopper that there's someone there with Will, hiding the both of them from the Demogorgon. When Joyce and Hopper finally find Will, they find Robin there too, barely alive but Hopper grabs her as well and they make it out. I would assume that Joyce would thank Robin profusely for keeping an eye on Will and that Robin would practically be adopted by Joyce.

I'd also like to think season 2 would've been wayyy different. The Mind Flayer takes one of them or the other (or both) and opens a whole new world of possibilities.

Sorry, this post got out of hand; I was skimming Rebel Robin and didn't notice this until I skimmed it. Anyways, feel free to add to this post, I came across this in the book and knew i had to talk about it lol!

#stranger things #robin buckley #rebel robin #will byers #eleven #joyce byers #jim hopper #jonathan byers #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #not gonna tag this as ronance but like. could you imagine the romance aus to come from something like this? #wait actually i might write that #long post #liv rambles #plus i keep seeing that post that's like 'we were robbed of eddie and robin in season 1' and like #this VERY much could've happened to robin as much as it did to will. i think will was the target because he was smaller #anyways #edited bc the quotes looked super weird lmaoo #tagging this too as #rebel robin: surviving the upside down #the post that started it all lmao

[the-lark-ascending69]

> be a robin buckley fan

> be lesbian

> project on robin

> look up "internalized homophobia robin buckley" on tumblr because it's cathartic

> 3/4 of the posts are about st3ddie or just about steve

#saw one in which steve was like ''no robin you don't understand! i have never been loved! i don't know how that feels like!'' #i have several grips about that interpretation #going from the fact that's not true (dustin is clearly a big steve fan + robin herself cares about him deeply) #to the fact he probably wouldn't be introspective enough to voice his emotions this concisely not to mention he'd probably wouldn't take #a moment to realize he's never felt loved if that were the case. i mean. he could think that. when he's like 35 and more in touch with his #inner world. 19yo steve can't even get the hint that hitting on a girl who's already clearly taken (nancy) is wrong so like i don't expect #him to be that smart #but i can live with people having takes i don't agree with. my opinion doesn't have to be everyone else's opinion if you see steve that way #it fine #what bothered me was the fact he was saying this to a lesbian living in the 80s lmao #who tells him that 1) her whole life has been an error 2) she doesn't think he'd want to be close to her if he truly knew her and 3) #3) is paralyzed by fear of social suicide if she dares believe for even a second that the girl she likes may like her too #like i dont need people to do deep dives into robin lore and quote from memory lines from Surviving Hawkins abt robin feeling like she's #rotten inside. not supposed to have friends. feeling like something is wrong with her and that pushes people away etc etc #the fact that she's a lesbian should tell you enough abt who has the biggest chances of being loved 😭 #also bothered me that it showed up when looking up posts abt internalized homophobia because?? where's the internalized homophobia therw #unless it's gay steve feeling bad abt it in an AU (as if canon robin didn't go through it) #like look im not bothered to find steve-centric content in the robin tag cos people are gonna tag her in posts mentioning her. #she's his friend. #but there are barely any posts at all about robin's internalized homophobia. like i saw 2 or 3. compared to all the steve or steddie ones #where's the love for my babygirl 😭😭 #anti steddie #not really but y'know i don't wanna bother anyone #edit: the bit about there being like 3 posts on robin w internalized homophobia isn't exactly true. there are a few. but they still feel #drowned in st3ddie posts #like something isn't right here

[liifr]

shit took me over an hour but look at my boys bc i refuse to accept robin is dead. like wdym finneys all alone?? nah he has his very alive boyfriend

#rinney #finney x robin #finbin #finney blake #robin arellano #rinney fanart #the black phone #the black phone fanart #the black phone au #digital art #digital artist #guys they both survived

[flowercrowngods]

and today in sometimes i write shit that fucks me up for weeks: time travel au steve & trees

Steve gets up. Goes into his room — not his room at all, it’s not his home, it’s not his — knowing Hopper won’t follow him, locks the door knowing El will unlock it if she needs him, and crawls under the blanket. He doesn’t cry, just curls up and lies there in numb misery of feeling too much, thinking too much, knowing too much, and not having the right words to express anything.

The air under the blanket gets too warm to really be comfortable, but he doesn’t want to move. He’s turned into a tree again, as El would put it. Another pang of guilt and misery runs through him, because he doesn’t want to be fucked up like that, fucked up enough for a child to call him a tree because he loses his reality a lot; but then the thought of being a tree almost feels so relieving it makes him want to cry.

Because trees don’t think about their friends dying. Killed. Murdered. By forces greater than this world’s imagination. Trees don’t watch the blood seeping from them over and over again until they lose their minds and go into shock that this world doesn’t support, instead tugging him back and forth until all there is is nothingness, because there is no time to think or feel or process, and once there is time, there is too much to even start. And no one to talk to about it. No one to listen.

If he could turn into a tree and never have a single thought again, he would without hesitation.

But he can’t, so he thinks, and the thinks until he falls asleep and the thoughts turn into memories morphed with fears until it’s Steve who kills them. Steve who fails. And Steve who does it over and over again. In the Upside Down, in Eddie’s trailer, at school, in Mike’s basement.

It’s Steve. Like it was Billy.

[…]

Walking on legs that haven’t quite accommodated to being upright yet, stiff and heavy in the dark of night, Steve makes his way through the forest, tumbling and stumbling, but never enough to make him stop. He’s heaving breaths now, willing the cold air into his lungs to stop everything from feeling so wrong, to break through the haze and the fog and the cotton, to pierce his insides with little pinpricks of ice as December is fast approaching. It only serves to make him more dizzy, his head spinning, glowing spots of black and white appearing in his field of vision until he leans against a tree, catching his breath and holding it.

Holding onto it with whimpers and wheezes and pathetic little groans that make him want to scream. He punches the tree, his hand numb with pain upon impact, his knuckles stiff and scraped up; bloody, even in the pitch black darkness.

Bloody. His hands are always bloody. It stains them, has seeped into his skin, like a reverse tattoo that only he can see. This, though… This is real. It’s his blood.

And so he punches again. And again, until his breath has evened out, and the pain has moved from his arm and his side over to his hand. Over to something real.

He flexes his fingers and watches them, can barely make out their shape, and focuses on the pull of his skin, the scrapes making it feel too tight — but in a real way. In a way that… he’s not going crazy. It’s real. It’s all real. And it’s burning, sizzling along with all of that anger, the grief, the confusion, the complete and utter fucking lostness. The loneliness.

Steve punches the tree one more time, then turns around to put more distance between him and familiar walls and stale air and worried glances so heavy they slowly scrape away the scar tissue growing over all those rawest of feelings.

He walks and walks without direction or destination, simply placing one foot in front of the other as his racing heart calms down and he is overcome with an absolute, all-consuming kind of exhaustion that makes him sway the very second he stops. His eyes are getting heavy, like his body is slowly coming to the realisation that his beside clock said 3:38 a.m. and that he hasn’t slept through the night for some days now, or maybe weeks, always awoken by nightmares — on days that he even dared to fall asleep.

No one should have to feel this kind of exhaustion, Steve thinks. Even after the Russians, after torture and fighting and more torture, followed by running and more running and almost dying in a car crash and then in a fire… Even after all that, he wasn’t as exhausted as he feels right now.

Probably because back then, he had Robin. Robin who would hold his hand, Robin who would share a glance with him and resuscitate everything that died inside of him with just one brave little smile.

God, she was so brave.

Steve leans against a tree, closing his eyes for just one second as he pictures Robin — alive and smiling and determined. Robin, in the passenger seat of his car at ass o’clock in the morning, grumpy and tired, leaning in to give him a hug hello and a hug goodbye. Robin, who would roll her eyes at his antics, his insecurities and his worries — Robin, who would explain hours later, her hand in his, that he had no reason to doubt or worry. That he was fine. That he was perfect. That everything else would slot into place soon and be perfect for him, too. Payback, she’d called it.

Payback, he thinks now as he heaves another breath, willing it through his constricted throat, and just barely keeping himself from screaming. Payback, because he failed. Payback, because he watched her die and nothing, nothing good will ever come out of that.

As much as he will try to save her, she will always have died. As much as he can try to keep her safe this time around, he will always have failed her.

That’s nothing he can take back. Ever. Nothing he can fix. Nothing he can make un-happen.

It’s the cruellest constant.

One that won’t leave him alone. One that won’t let him sleep at night, one that won’t leave his head even for a minute, flooding his consciousness with memories of blood and failure, weighing down his conscience until he can’t fucking breathe, and—

A sob escapes his throat even as he stumbles forward, continuing on his nonexistent path that feels a lot like running, fleeing from this new life, as though he could magically make his way back to the old one. Because they have died. They’re dead. He watched them. This new world won’t fix that. Won’t fix him. And he doesn’t deserve fixing anyway.

So he runs.

#steve harrington #stranger things #time travel steve #Robin who would share a glance with him and resuscitate everything that died inside of him with just one brave little smile #<- that sentence fucks and even i recognise that okay #and also the imagery of grief and trauma turning you into a tree. stagnant. not moving. but still alive. stood there right where you were #always always standing there. and wishing you weren’t fucked up enough to be likened to a tree #and as a reader pointed out: the duality of steve turning into a tree. and then letting out his anger and grief on a tree #but consequently on himself. in symbolic and literal ways #god isn’t this so fucked up?? isn’t this so messed up? #time travel au #DONT MIND ME i just wanna talk about him and all the symbolism i weave around him all day and all night #nobody could ever accuse me of downplaying platonic stobin in this story bc he is so. he’s so. Lost. without her. she’s all he thinks about #he talks to her still even if she won’t answer. he will not survive school with robin not knowing him. with robin hating him nonetheless

[tinukis]

the day i assign each strawhat a pokemon team (ft honorable mentions bc theres just So many different pokemon that fit them for many reasons. and like i'd see why others would assign them diff pokemon. but this is just in My Eyes) it'd be over for everyone

plus whenever i get a new interest, i immediately think about what pokemon my favs would have 😭

im noT finished with my list yet but the most common headcanon i've seen is luffy and aipom and monferno !! (both are monkey pokemon :3 and monferno is fire/fighting type...) so ofc he'd have them. BUT !! THERE ARE ALSO BUG POKEMON DO NOT FORGET !! HE'D ABSOLUTELY FREAK (POSITIVELY) SEEING THEM ESPECIALLY HERACROSS

also this is Just Me but i think it'd be really cute for nami to have swablu and wingull... like i cant really put it into words bc i dont have the words (though swablu should be self explanatory) (btw you will see a lot of me assign the strawhats pokemon purely based on vibes... but can u blame me theres over 1000 pokemon) AND SHE'D SOOOO HAVE A MEOWTH CMON !! cat burglar nami... meowth that likes to collect shiny coins and if it likes its trainer enough/in a good mood it'd show them its hosrd of treasure...

brook would absolutely have kricketune and you cant change my mind... (yohohoing and delelelewooping in the distance) also during that void of 50 years, he meets dhelmise (ghost/grass type)

obviously, zoro would have sword related pokemon like honedge(and its evolutions) and gallade and ceruledge and— YKNOW!! but (not so) fun fact about honedge. it is steel/ghost type and according to its pokedex, the pokemon is born when a spirit inhabits a sword... kuina and wado ichimonji... see where im going with this?

ANYWAY more thoughts eventually (it has been collecting dust in my notes app for months) but i love pokemon and combining them with my interests...

by the way sanji would have talonflame and i will elaborate later (i hope)

#tin talks #one piece #pokemon #pokemon au #i have an art piece to finish #i got the hardest part done (coloring) #now for the more challenging parts (RENDERING) #i'll... survive... i think #i miss pokemon so much #ive yet to complete both sv dlc but... 😭 #one piece....... #plus im super biased towards the alola games #i miss alola #sanji would also have tsareena #usopp and nuzleaf bc nose #also usopp and carnivine bc of #green star devil ... #and would also have octillery- #also i think it'dbe cooler for robin to have runerigus than cofagrigus #maybe bc she is Purple but anyway #... more thoughts later

[lazerswordweilder]

One day, mid way through a meeting, the zeta tube announces the arrival of Batman. Everyone turns to give him a piece of theirs minds for showing up hours late, except he’s barely standing, half his mask ripped off reveals a blue eye that isn’t focused on anything, matted black hair full of blood, he has stubble on his chin and he’s missing a tooth. His hand cluches his stomach as a knife pokes through his fingers he still tries to contain the blood, every breath he takes looks painful and there’s an indent in his ribs that wasn’t supposed to be there, there’s rips all over his suit revealing battered armour underneath, his cloak has long since been torn off and one of his entire boots is missing (along with a sizeable chunk of flesh), and J’onn cringes over at the pain and hunder and thirst and pain coming from his mind, iced over by vauge shock.

(Sorry about any typos, might write a fic on this I dunno)

#this was originally going to be an au #where no one knows about the rest of the batfam #he throws them comm links with a bat signal on them #and manages to say to go to gotham and bludhaven #and then is brought to emergency care #and even oracles clocktower has been attack #there was going to be roughley a chapter dedicated to each hero finding a bat in horrible health. #nightwing has never been so greatful to see superman #red robin was trapped underground and was holding up ruble to save civillains #he colapses onto green lantern from caffine withdrawl and pain and exaustion and over exertion and- #red hoods only barely hanging on due to pit rage and that is definitely his blood #and ect #and the justice league is horrified #because they get a cold reminder #that the bat(s) is very much human #and while they push themselves to be the strongest they can be #to the point of fighting gods #they are still very much human #and seeing all these traumatised kids pushing themselves so far #too far #to save people #and they all give last words before they pass out #and every single one is about their dad #is their dad safe #will he survive #can they see him #oh please let them see him #he’s their dad he can do anything he can protect them and save the day #and even Red Hood says something along those lines and how he never wanted their relationship to end up like this #lazerswordweilder writes

[raccoon-crown]

Make the Dr. Proud

"Come on my apprentice, make the doctor proud and deliver the punchline!"

If you wanna know, this comes after the idea of following a story similar to the one in Batman Beyond: the return of the joker.... but more like Sonic the hedgehog: The Return of Dr. Eggman.

In this one, Eggman kidnaps our favorite fox to turn him into a younger version of himself, and when Sonic goes to rescue him with Amy and Knuckles he ends up like the Batman on the movie: Looking into a [brutally forced] furry copy of Eggman instead of his little bro.

And when Eggman ask Tails the little Dr. to shot... well you know the rest

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #rdjdraws #tails the fox #miles tails prower #STH: The return of Dr Eggman #Based on the Batman Beyond movie #Of course that the first thing after my last post was planning this one! #Maybe I'll make more scenes from the movie for the AU... #Depends if my hand survives to do it #That broken scene with robin resistance to shot batman before killing the joker #Yeah this is the same one but with Tails #BAAM

[lavenoon]

What if all of them were senior agents?

Sun n Moon get transferred to Robin's location and these three star agents really just butt heads. None of them are good at socializing, they're all hard asses (not on purpose), and now they're rivals and ONCE AGAIN butting heads jkasfdhldf

-G

I'm going to make things even harder for them, and say the transfer happened because the higher ups ran out of agents to pair them with when push comes to shove, and decided to take the gamble of putting them and Robin together directly. Also not neighbors in this one then! They'd be all kind of distant anyway, and that's not really compelling.

No, in this one they get close because they all butt heads as you say <3 Robin hears about the transfer, and is informed they'll work with the newbies (not rookies, mind you - but bad enough still), and is thus aware of both Dusk and Dawn.

Let's say this is canon adjacent and they meet Dusk first. Maybe an official introduction in Agent River's office (oh, she is so happy about this development /s), like she's the bathroom door between two grouchy, territorial cats. They size each other up, but act polite enough while their supervisor is watching. Once they're out though?

All but outright hissing and scratching. Passive aggressive little comments about “keeping up” and “don’t slow me down”, little jabs about each other’s codenames (the moon man and little bird make it early in this timeline). Both are somewhat impressed surprised when the other does keep up. 

They find a begrudging balance where they respect each other but don’t quite get along, both still stuck in that “no one really gets me” emo mindset they acquired over the years. When Robin first witnesses Dusk telling a hostile “Nighty night” before knocking them out, they snort - and he hears. But with how immediately he withdraws from their dynamic, snapping at them even when the fight is over, they start feeling bad. 

Robin decides to swallow their pride - because they’re the one who hurt his. After the mission, they hold out a little gadget to him, like an olive branch. 

“... What do you think I need lip balm for?” 

“Open it, idiot.” 

He does, warily, and out comes a little equipped pin cushion plus an extra compartment for more elaborate lock picking tools. He blinks. 

“I have a document scanner here, too.” 

By all means, it looks like a normal pen. 

“And a few spy coins, too.” 

Some resemble actual money, others are goofy festival tickets made of hard plastic, or coins to slot into shopping carts.

Dusk looks at them, processing the fact that they carry tons of unnecessary gadgets, and all of them are the type you’d see in cheesy spy movies. 

“It’s good to have fun with this. Not enough agents do. Maybe the ‘go to sleep’ thing is a little too on the nose for my taste, but I hardly have any room to talk.” 

He hands the pin cushion back wordlessly, but after another moment his grin widens as he squints. Innocently leans down to their eye level, immediately setting off the snark alarm bells in Robin’s head. 

“So, how many spy movies did you have to watch to get inspiration for these?” 

Turns out, banter comes easy.

“Sorry I’m not as simple as you and didn’t look in the mirror for the most brilliant idea to strike me.” 

“You thought it’s funny.” 

“It's ridiculous.” 

“Made you laugh.” 

“I’ll push you off the roof.” 

“Have to catch me first. Last to reach HQ is a rotten egg - not a good look for you.” 

After that first official race, they get along better and better - still snarky, still full of banter, but they enjoy pushing each other because they trust the other to have their back. Other agents aren’t quite sure if they hate or love each other, but that just goes to show that their dynamic is special to them, and that the others just really didn’t get them <3

Dawn and Robin don't fare much better in the beginning. Robin, while a star agent, rarely does the undercover missions, and it grates that Dawn is better at it. They adapt quickly, but it's enough for him to notice.

"Out of your element, it seems."

"I usually have better things to do than babysit, yes."

Well, and Dawn doesn't like that either. These two mastered the death glares hidden behind polite smiles, and any time they're forced to hold onto each other for whatever reason, their hands may tighten just a liiittle more than would be technically necessary!

It's only when one time Robin is there to witness one of his more dramatic acts during an "interrogation" (i.e. they have someone isolated and cornered, though the target isn't quite aware of the danger yet), him just smoothly trapping a target in a conversation and carefully baiting them to reveal all the information they need, only to end with a "Why, thank you for your cooperation. It's most appreciated." and just enough time for the poor sod to realize what they've done, and then a knockout-

Robin watches, first positively surprised, then impressed, and then just...

They start wheezing. Dawn turns to them, disgruntled, and is about to snap at them the same way he snapped at anyone else who insulted/ made fun of his methods, but then they just talk through their laughter.

"They just - pfft. They just fell for that, hook line and sinker!" More laughter. "'Thank you for your cooperation' indeed, don't think it'll be continued, but that's nothing HQ can't fix."

Dawn is… also positively surprised. He deflates a little, looking at them as if he hadn’t seen them before, and a bit of apprehension leaves him. 

The first time they have a runner and Robin catches them quickly, while obviously being just as efficient and with that touch of flair he likes? That’s when he locks on, and decides a rivalry isn’t actually too bad. Especially given that he’s no stranger to the trope of rivals, and does enjoy the way he can make Robin fumble and stutter when he gets them by surprise. 

So he leans into the flirting. And Robin, after a short fluster/ adjustment period, flirts back. 

They’re horrible from then on. The kind of romantic tension that’s tangible, you could cut through it even. They say anything to each other and anyone listening in just groans and either thinks or outright yells “Just kiss already!” 

They don’t, because they’re still idiots <3

The boys talk about Robin to each other, and there’s a surprising lack of teasing - but they do get a somewhat parallel improvement thanks to the stories they share with each other, and then they unofficially already form a team of three without being specifically assigned as such. 

They get along well enough in their own weird little ways. When a few months in Dusk admits they’re looking for a place to stay, they’re still very aware of the secret identity rule, and Robin doesn’t outright offer - in fact, they joke “Just don’t move in at my place, that’d be awkward.” Dusk easily plays along with a “Ew, wouldn’t think of it” that earns him a laugh and a punch to the arm. 

But they’re also comfortable enough with each other that when Dawn shows up at Y/N’s doorstep, looking like a deer in the headlights, they don’t freak out - Y/N laughs, full out wheezing. Dawn - Sun, as he introduced himself in his email, just grumbles about places with high ceilings being a rarity, especially at such affordable prices - and then slyly adds “but of course your place would be a steal, little thief.” 

Y/N tries very hard to stop laughing, managing with a strange little grimace. So they invite him in - and when HQ never says anything about that change in address, they don’t see any reason to poke the bear. Maybe there won’t be a little birdhouse in the backyard - but they’re all comfortable, and happy, and have all the time in the world to go from there <3

#answer let luce #G asks #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #no one ask about all of them being rookies they'd be instant besties and no one would survive their combined menace energy #I somehow expected worse for these guys #but them being on equal footing made things a lot easier actually #there's no power imbalance for them #and the fact that Robin knows both from the start also helps #it's a neat little timeline!!

[person-official]

Alternative universes are such a cool concept to me.

Like, imagine there's a universe where Colombus never sailed across the world, or even one where he was just not a shitty person. I wonder how different my life would be sometimes. Or maybe something a lot less impacting.

Maybe one where Ranboo Live or Wilbur Soot never got popular. I probably would have gotten over my DSMP faze a lot quicker than the almost three years it took me. They definitely helped shape my humor, no way I would be the same person.

Or a universe where I was actually born a boy. I think about that one a lot as well. I don't doubt my life would be easier, I don't doubt I would also be a LOT happier.

Maybe in a universe where the Library of Alexandria wasn't burned down, how much more literature would we have? How many more things would we know?

Do you think there's a Universe where there's a place that holds all the universe's secrets? I've thought of that a lot too. I've always pictured it as a ginormous library with bookshelves touching the ceiling to the floor, golden engravings etched along the side, and one of those moving ladders from Beauty and the Beast. There would be an area in the middle of the bookshelves with tables and tables seated next to each other in an infinite amount of rows. Of course, there would be two floors, maybe even a third! I think one of the floors would have a couple of restaurants. I'm picturing a Panera and a Tim Hortons, placed along the sides. The books would contain anything you could ever want to know, from the Meaning of Life to a Do it Yourself Book: Origamii Edition, to your favorite fan fiction in physical form!

#alternate universe #christopher columbus #trans man #trans rights #Cisgender AU #ranboo #wilbur soot #I would normally tag the DSMP but I'm a Dranti now so I won't. #library of alexandria #Knowledge #Thinking #shifting #? kinda #ok but another thing BLACK PHONE I'm sorry but I would love a place where everyone survived or maybe an entirely different concept where its #still the 80s and the same characters and shit but an entirely different concept where the Grabber doesn't exist and it's just a sitcom #comedy thing but they're aloud to be gay course let's be honest there was something with Robin and Finney. #and Brance too cause even tho they had no screen time together I still ship it so add them too. #also the show has like 12 seasons with super good acting and it's a well-written slow burn with Rinney end game and fuck it I want a Billy #episode all we got from him was that he has a dog and he's a paper boy. and I change my mind I want double the seasons but I don't want it #to END with Rinney I want it to start in season 12 out of 24 and after that it's just fluff and drama. but also I want more Donna #it's just fluff and drama. but also I want more of Donna not necessarily as a homewrecker character but I wanna introduce her as one #at the start of the series later her character gets more complex than just ‘Finney’ I want depth not just boys. I also don't want it to just #revolve around Finney even tho he's the main character I want the point of view to change now and again. I want to know what its like in #the day of the like if Vance #of Vance Griffin Billy Bruce AND ESPECIALLY ROBIN Holy shit I wanna see so much pining with him and I want to audience to be border on #mad at Finney for not realizing that Rkbin likes him back. Think Byler but funnier. also I want laugh tracks #but not like The Big Bang Theary

[texeoghea]

ipad stuff. you may be seeing a whole lot more of this in the near future bc my pc will be disconnected for a few months starting on the 24th and then ALL my art will be on my horrid little ipad. i still dont feel totally comfortable using procreate it feels weird

anyway i decided i dont actually like drakes design because its too black mask and not enough prince so im trying to find a better balance but i dont think im there yet. im torn between keeping the clear agility of a bare torso and the utility and symbolism of giving him a cuirass. should he be more knight or power ranger.......... i cant decide................

#my art #doodles #p5 drake #the point of his drake suit is to represent herewards awakening #i honestly think ALL the thieves should get suits to match their final personas but what ever. akechi special treatment as always #so i want his suit to resemble both the other ones to go along with robin and loki becoming herewars #d #but thats EASIER SAID THAN DONE ... #survival au