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Summary
Shane was hurt and Ilya couldn’t be there with him. No one knew that he cared, that his boyfriend was in the hospital, not even Shane’s parents.
OR: Yuna Hollander just wanted to grab some of Shane’s things from his apartment during his hospital stay. She didn't suspect she'd stumble across a home invasion, and that the perpetrator would be Ilya Rozanov.
(Shane’s okay!)
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Other than Don and Ryan, Blue refused to tell anyone about his diabetes.
And he should've known that would fuck him over.
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After a chaotic rescue, Blue struggles to hide his worsening blood sugar from his team, determined not to appear weak, especially in front of the one person he secretly cares about.
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“You are going, Roy!” Ruth had demanded through the phone, “This bullshit with you and dad has gone on long enough. I want to see you both sit down and share a meal. Together.”
“I don’t see the fucking point! He doesn’t want me there and I don’t want to go!”
“Yeah, because the last time you were there, you stabbed the roast chicken right up the arse with your fork and told Dad you wished it was him.”
“I still do.”
This Christmas, Roy isn't getting out of dinner with his insufferable parents. Thankfully, Jamie comes up with a brilliant idea during their morning training.
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Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt are nearly the same age and met when they were young. They are a dynamic, but untameable and inseparable pair on the pitch (and off) bounced from team to team until they end up blackballed as adults at the senior level. Coaches don’t know what do with them and they hide a secret relationship from the public. Can they find a home with AFC Richmond coached by Ted Lasso?
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Displaced by ClarkKents_Biceps
Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Smallville
17 Dec 2025
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- The story where a bit of time-travelling mishaps happen and make life very complicated for Superbat -
Chaos.
Pure chaos.
Downtown Gotham City had gone to hell. The place was an absolute mess — in fact, calling it a mess was an understatement. Gotham shimmered like it had gone mad: cars levitated inches too high; graffiti shifted when no one looked; even the shadows seemed to dance. Chaos grinned in every windowpane. And behind it lurked an interdimensional imp — a creature with obscene power, far too much for anyone’s good — spreading madness as a result of trying to fanboy over his favourite hero. Every spark of chaos was one of his well-meant ideas let loose.
“Nightwing!” Tim barked at his comms eyes locked on Gotham — alive, wild, awake. It was wrong, The city wasn’t supposed to move like this.
