MASTERLIST

A random idea that I'm not ever sure I'm going to pick up and finish. AU is that everyone lives in a movie genre and the universe if governed by the rules of that genre. Bruce, fed up with being a failed lover interest, starts to adopt kids from other genres.

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"I don't get it," Dick says, standing at the top small set of stairs and looking down them. There's like six of them, hardly enough to actually call it a staircase. Dick could probably jump the full way down without hurting himself. It's definitely not a flight, just six steps to get from the raised dias of the bank's entry to the street. But Bruce is still hesitating at the top, staring at them like they are a snake curled up in the grass. 

The man who had assigned himself Dick's father (He doesn't need a father. He doesn't have parents. His parents are dead. Killed. For eight years, their case has gone untouched as cold as their corpses. He needs to solve it. He needs to find the killer. He has to. He has to. He has to...) drags his eyes from the stairs to Dick.

"You live in a *rom com*," Dick practically spat the words. He had been growing to hate this saturated colour, plastic world. There were too many people. None of the streets were ever empty. Movements from the corners of his eyes that his brain screamed could be someone pulling a gun, someone reached for a knife, someone passing a drug off to another, was usually just a woman dressed in LuLulemon pulling her yappy dog along. It was maddening the way that his brain wasn't built for this. He saw people doing things and his mind screamed that it was clues! It was evidence! You need to investigate it! You need. You need. You need.

But he doesn't. Because he doesn't exist here. The Graysons don't exist here. No one has been killed in this city for over 100 years apparently. The worse crime in the paper had been when Miss Betty accidentally stole cupcakes because her and Joe's orders got mixed up. They were getting married now apparently.

Dick shook his head trying to dislodge the part of him that was screaming that he was missing a clue. He tried to focus on the present. Him. Bruce. Stairs.

"This is a romantic comedy," he repeated. "It's all about love, so what's the fucking worse thing that could happen on the stairs."

"*It seems I've fallen for you*," said Bruce suddenly, his voice so devoid of emotion it startles Dick. Dick's eyes snap up to meet the other man's eyes, but Bruce is still looking at the stairs.

"That's the part of the script," he continues, his voice blank. It's disconcerting. Dick has only heard him peppy or bubbly or other words that paint him as a happy-go-lucky dog. He's never heard... this. "I fall down the stairs and I... I break something. I lay there until she's suppose to rush in. She's supposed to be a nurse or a doctor or maybe just someone with first aid training. She's supposed to treat me until the ambulance comes and I'm supposed to say *'it seems I've fallen for you'*"

Bruce finally looks at Dick and he can't even describe what's in the man's eyes. It's... he would almost call it haunted. The same glint that he has when he stares in the mirror.

"I've broken my leg from falling down stairs 48 times. I've broken one of my ankles 53 times. My left arm 18 and my right 26. Three times it's been my collarbone. One time after two flights, it was my back. I was paralyzed from the neck down. I couldn’t move a damn finger, so I just laid there in pain until the clock hit midnight and everything reset. And that’s just the staircase falls. There’s also the open manholes, the broken railings, getting hit by a car, a couple of times where a bridge gave out from under me. Any of them will do as long as I end up hurt and on the ground."

Dick stared. Coldness washed through his veins, fixing him to the spot. For the first time since he got here, fear settled into the pit of his stomach. The only thing he could think to say was: "I thought that nothing went wrong here?"

Bruce gave a harsh laugh that seemed more fitting for Dick's genre. "Everything works out if you actually have someone who wants to love you. If your love interest isn't interested or she just doesn't bother to turn up... well, the universe keeps trying to correct itself even if that means you have to lay in a crumpled, bloody heap at the bottom of stairs for a few hours."

He... he didn't know what to say. Say that he was sorry? That Bruce didn't have anyone coming to love him?

He looked back at the stairs and saw them how Bruce saw them. He tried to figure out what to say, but Bruce just turned on his heel.

"Let's go find the wheelchair ramp."

my first wave of oc’s

tommy’s and tubbo’s pets twt

Hey I’m planning on making fake twt cain jokes about tommy’s and tubbo’s pets having twitter and joking with each other. I was thinking of putting dream smp and smp earth pets from what I got from the wiki since i don't have enough time to re watch past vods. 

the pets/pet like would be

tommy:

garden golem

minion(helps in the server that you get to help with your things, i think they can be classified as pets? idk I’ll just add it in as a headcannon of mine)

harold

bruno

horsechamp

fundy’s skeleton horse

juorse

henry

harvey

phukkit

batthew

mushrrom henry

clarencio

pussboi

shroud (same headcannon as michael)

friend

wiggles

and for tubbo it would be  squishyfuck spins spunz spoons dogarmy spots percy squeeks beeinnit michael (yes i know this is his son but i think it would be funny if he was able to interact with the pets, so he would feel less lonely in the house)

if there are any pets that I have forgotten send me the name so I can add them to the gang. 

getting silly with it

other maps i couldnt decide on, none, etc etc

You all enable me too much, here take this

Ok ok, picture this:

Modern au

Cale is watching Alberu's stream while getting ready to go to work. He's been a viewer of Alberu for a while now and his kids have even made him send fanart to the streamer a few times.

For some reason, Alberu jokes about giving someone in chat mod to which Cale offhandedly types in chat: "Sounds tedious, never ask me that again."

Alberu immediately gives it to Cale "for the bit"

Immediately, Cale is like "nononononono- TAKE IT BACK"

Meanwhile Alberu is in stitches, laughing so hard he's almost crying.

Eventually, Cale has to go to work and leaves with a final message in chat:

"This better be fixed when I get back from work, your Highness."

Cale watches Alberu smirk, "Or what, user Weak_Human?"

"Or else I will completely overhaul your setup until it's unrecognizable."

Cale doesn't touch his phone while working and kind of forgets about the stream and his threat until he finally clocks off and opens the app to find he still has mod.... Then he notices he also has an email from the streamer himself.

It's access to Alberu's OBs and stream settings... wtf.

Well, ignoring the ridiculousness of the sotuation, Cale is nothing if not a man of his word.

When Alberu opens up his computer to start streaming, he immediately notices how... smooth everything is. His computer used to take a minute to load everything and yet now everything is almost instant. His starting soon screen is up and while people trickle in, he notices that all his settings have been streamlined, all his ban requests sorted and commented on, even some of his graphics and emotes have been resized and bound to new commands.

The he notices he has a new unread email. In it is an attached spreadsheet which lists every change made and the original settings in excruciating detail. The email itself is a simple 4 words:

"Now take it back."

Alberu can only laugh as he answers:

"Absolutely not. Also, call me hyung, dongsaeng."

William aftons true enemy

one thing i adore about fandom is the “[bad parent]’s A+ parenting” tag on ao3. it’s so universal and so sarcastic and it makes me giggle every time i see it

Michael Jose Gonzales a horror main character oc. who is cursed to  jump through different worlds and survive until that game end is considered to fall in the “final girl” trop by the people who suffer from the same condition considering he rarely dies. 

prototype sketches