#he needs this too ♡

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[gojoest]

also in a childhood friends to lovers, but like back in the day when you were still children, satoru who is merely a few years older than you but treats you like a little kid as if the age gap between you is so huge and sometimes acts like an annoying older brother with all the teasing and getting on your nerves, prohibits you from dating anyone bc you’re too young and have better things to focus on like your studies, and also bc in the future he’s planning to be your first and only boyfriend ever but he can’t admit that to you, yet

[feroluce]

Clank clank clank clank cl-

[edenfire]

🌸💗 cmon bunny-chan! 💗🌸

I decided to do a practice sheet of barnaby bc he is my darling and I can't believe i haven't drawn him more🥺💗💞

pls pls pls watch Tiger & Bunny it's so good I'm begging you lol🥺🙏💗💞🌸🎀

now I need to practice kotetsu🥰💘💘

[pwurrz]

quincy, sighing heavily: “alright, what’s going on? you’re making yakumo upset.”

dante, being even more blunt than usual: “what, like that’s a hard thing to do? he cries all the time anyways, most likely it wasn’t even my actions that upset him.”

quincy:

dante, suddenly hearing boss music: “…r-regardless of my intentions, my commentary was unnecessary and i probably hurt his feelings. i should.. apologize.. to him.”

quincy: “hm. good choice.”

[pareidolla]

(Explore) Do you have any headcanons for Voice of the Cheated?

♡. ask game

anon dearie ilysm i'm sorry it's been 2 whole months </3 i immediately began typing this post out as soon as i received it, but then not only did i forget to finish it, but practically all of the headcanons i wrote had to be trashed because they related to cheated's role but he is no longer a pirate!!! buddy got his costume changed and i am not telling you what it is ♡♡

but yes yes i have a couple headcanons! in no particular order:

01. my cheated has a tail for Reasons™ and it is a great source of misfortune of him. he already has a lousy poker face, but even if he manages to keep it together, anyone can easily intuit how he's feeling from its swaying or thumping. not to mention how often people step on it (most accidentally, cold and opportunist not accidentally)

02. my voice's "true" form are mirror shards while their physical bodies are something akin to homuculi/puppets. if harmed beyond a certain threshold then the affected body part will shatter completely rather than simply bleed out. normally, if the shard is healthy, then reverting back to shard form will reverse the injury, but cheated's shard is so ridiculously pure that shattered parts will mend on their own! even when he fully shatters, which is relatively easy for him to do, it only takes a half-hour to recover, as opposed to the days or weeks that others may need.

this is also a great source of misfortune for him ♡ according to razor this makes him the perfect little pin-cushion. the glass shattering makes such a pretty, addictive noise and then woo he's right back to do it again. sure, it's fun to battle stubborn, but it takes him forever to shatter, and then the cooldown can take a month. scam! rip-off! her own little guy is the way better deal!

03. speaking of glass shards: cheated and flinching are brother and sister! all of the voices came from the same mirror, but cheated's shard cracked twice, first forming him and then flinching. while the demo voices remained dormant throughout the game, most of cheated's personality is unconsciously founded in complementing and protecting his sister. whereas flinching would hesitate to shoot a gun, cheated would snatch it from her grasp to fire immediately -- and then she watches in horror as the bullet ricochets off a pipe and hits him square in the knee. chichi twins ♡♡

04. cheated is a stiff in that he doesn't drink or smoke (his suffering will be done raw, thank you), but he absolutely adores gambling. he will swear up and down that he can stop at any time, and he doesn't even like it that much, yet he'll make a beeline for the nearest slot machine and have to be wrestled out of the chair. please, he can't just leave now, he's already sunk so much money into this, please just one more pull--

05. contrary to his appearance (and princess), cheated likes cute things! he's a bit shy about expressing his interest in coquette stuff like ribbons and makeup, but he's very open about caring for the innocent and helpless. the type to leave food out for strays and tries (keyword: tries) not to swear infront of kids. would love for him to team up with damsel for game night.

(kills me that he wouldn't want to wear "girl stuff" since he thinks the other voices pull it off better. everytime i draw cheated i think he would make for such a beautiful woman. i need opportunist to invite him to a drag bar and change his life.)

since it's tangentially connected, i'm ending this off with my favorite headcanon: cheated adores sharks and sleeps with a big shark plush he won at a carnival, whom he has named cap'n crunch ♡

[writeshite]

“Careful now.” Mr. Milchick cautioned, his left palm just beneath yours as he’d stopped you from nearly dropping the small, neatly wrapped box. He guided your left hand back to a level height, around ninety degrees at angle from elbow to hand. “We wouldn’t want to break that.” His right hand was set atop yours on the top side of the gift box.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Milchick,” you sighed in relief. “My apologies, my outie overexerted himself this past weekend.”

“Yeah, that’s called sex,” Dylan snarked, pointing to the hard to cover hickeys trailing to the back of your ear. You weren’t exactly eager to promote or detail your outie’s sex-life.

“It’s his outie’s wedding anniversary,” Mark rectified Dylan’s crass statement.

“I’m aware,” Mr. Milchick responded, “Five years, seven months, and twelve weeks.” His left hand softly traced your wedding ring. If you didn't know any better, you'd say his smile took a softer tone; the usual dead joy in his eyes looked almost enamored. “My congratulations to your outie. I imagine the annual exhaustion indicative of a successful and joyous marriage."

Dylan's yearly crude joke on the matter was cut short as Irving placed a hand on his mouth. "I believe so too," you beamed, "alongside the presents, of course." You nodded to the gift in your hands. "Thank you for hand-delivering this year's gift, and last year's, and the year before that. You really don't have to; I'm sure there are better things to do." You glanced down at the gift; his hands had yet to leave yours.

"Nonsense," he assured you, "It's no trouble at all." Mr. Milchick squeezed your hands and, with one final smile, left the space. Irving made a disgusted sound as Dylan licked his palm and darted into the supply closet for a tissue.

Dylan pursed his lips, glancing over at the door; once certain Mr. Milchick wasn't returning soon, he teased, “Get a room next time, will you?”

You rolled your eyes. "It's hardly sexual to talk to a coworker."

"It is when you and Milchick do it," Dylan pulled a face in good jest. "Tell him, Mark!" He attempted to corral Mark to his side, "The eyefucking is abysmally disgusting." He dramatically exclaimed.

"I mean," Mark pursed his lips momentarily, "I don't really see anything of the sort," his words caused disbelief to rise on Dylan's face. "Besides, isn't Milchick married?"

Both Dylan and you turn to each other, then Mark, before shrugging, uncertain as to the answer. "How can you be sure?" Dylan asked.

His question was met with no answer as Irving returned and sternly expressed Mr. Milchick's preference for privacy: "What extracurricular activities Mr. Milchick has have no bearing here; he hardly enjoys sharing facts about himself outside of work, we should respect that." Dylan pouted and directed a not-so-quiet 'party pooper' at Irving; the latter turned to you and smiled earnestly, "Besides, aren't you more excited to find what anniversary present our friend has this year?"

Dylan half-shrugged, and he and Mark turned their attention to the gift box as you tore away the purple wrapping. This year's gift was an appropriately and mildly decorated set of custom sticky notes. "Your outie's husband is quite thoughtful," Irving commented, glancing at the stickers. “He's a lucky man."

[jayparked]

oh!! and another thing i wanted to mention but forgot to add in my last ask ^^;; (you don’t have to post this, ofc it’s your choice! i’m just afraid it’s gonna cause an uproar)

i was going through your blog and your reply to one of the asks regarding riki smut was just 🤌🏻. “it’s not about your age, it’s about his”. THANK YOU. if 18 and you’re comfortable seeing/presenting yourself in that way, good for you. but don’t do it to someone else… (i’m ~5 months older than him and even then the thought of someone sexualizing me in that way right now gives me shivers. like, it doesn’t matter whether you’re older or younger, please don’t think about me that way!!!!)

the amount of times i’ve had to block blogs that post niki smut (and usually it’s while i’m scrolling to find enha fluff too SMH) and i’m still not safe… (or like those moan videos of him?? i thought it was a prank at first…)

from now on, this is going to be my response. thank you for your wisdom, all mighty snail lolol

i love being outspoken on this topic because it helps weed out the weirdos from my blog so here are my thoughts expanding on yours and my previous ones!

someone who is 18 can write/read smut. that's not an issue because they are legal and they can make that decision for themselves to consume that content. they are actively deciding to consent every time they proceed with those warnings

riki is someone we don't know. he's a real person out in this world. he's not here to consent to this stuff (and i know the other members aren't either but for this sake lets just talk about riki) that's why for me i dont want to read/write nsfw content about teenagers. let them have their childhood

is it wrong for someone who's 18/19 to write/read nsfw content about riki? no. but that's not the point. i've stated that i'm not comfortable with it and the majority of my followers have agreed with me/supported me with that stance and i'm really thankful for that! it's always made me uncomfortable when people wait for an idol to turn legal to start writing smut about them. even when i was 18 in the fanfic community i found it weird and had preferences to read smut about idols who were already in their 20s.

at the end of the day it really is about him and not us. "well, they're legal so..." is such a gross mindset for someone to have. literally just imagine yourself in his position, it wouldn't be a good feeling. at least wait like damn 😭

i've had moments of inner conflict where sometimes i'll feel really guilty for writing smut about celebrities but then i remember that i just use them as face claims really. all my stories are just characters and i take basic parts of their personality to enhance my characters. i have no clue how they are in real life and i would never project my written characters onto their real person. and i think that's what separates me from quite a few people 😬

[artificise]

so the viend account said artiviend is canon now and

well first off hell yeah

second off I wanna ask why specifically viend? why does artificer like viend if you're willing to share.

(oo good question

(first of all- before i even got into the game abt 6 months ago my synapses connected and were like "yea these two would be cute" for some reason and found 0 content wheeze bit of a crackship but i found it sweet

(lore-wise, i like to think cynthia has a deeply scientific way of thinking; seeing that viend had been inside the void for so long and managed to survive piqued her interest, she related in a way and found him interesting :]

(flawed muses go crazy due to already feeling disconnected from the present due to past experiences alongside habitual difficulties separating work from emotion alongside her autism (i have asd dw :3), it took a bit before she was like "hey, this is like. a human person." and eased up on the scientific jargon and thinking and subsequently grew closer to viend as an individual! :3

(their relationship is mostly fueled from similar experiences and feeling different to others, as well as being sources of comfort for eachother :3 chronic pain gang. also she's not scared of him hehe

(also viend being the one to find her in the bazaar is. a very cute idea

[thebrainrotsreal]

Listen there's a half chance the hands and stuff do not work this way, but simply?? pretend they do ig ??? Had to get some Vlad out of my system, so behold my fav ghostie on the planet! Wine drinker, petty plotter, my love, haha!

[gojoest]

pregnancy freak satoru + lots of spooning sex bc that’s one of the safest and most comfortable positions for when the pregnancy progresses and your belly gets bigger and rounder (he’s done his research) + obviously his hand is glued to your baby bump ALL the time

[feroluce]

“-and that's why I ain't allowed in Pier Point no more!” Boothill throws his head back and cackles, somehow completely comfortable on the bare floor of the archives. He's the very picture of ease, his arms behind his head, his legs bent and crossed.

Dan Heng barely looks up from his notebook, not much surprises him anymore after the first few tales of lawless exploits. “So they really have that many laws and restrictions there.” 

“And prob’ly a few more now that I've been through there! Heck, ya think they named any after me? I'm hopin’ so.” There's so much smug cockiness seeping through his voice Dan Heng could bottle it.

Silence settles in, stretches out. Dan Heng doodles pensive circles in the corner of his page.

He shouldn't ask. It's a private matter. It's none of his business. He of all people should know-

Something pokes his shoe, and when he looks up, Boothill has stretched one arm up to tap metallic fingertips against his foot. “Ain't like ya to hesitate.” With his head tipped back on the tiles and gazing at him upside down, Boothill's hair is out of his face and spooling out all over the floor, offering a rare view of his right side. His right eye is sealed over with a pitch-black patch, stark against his skin. Dan Heng wonders what he looks like behind it. “C'mon, then, out with it. Spill the beans, brother, just say it.”

“What does ‘Boothill’ mean?”

The man blinks at him, the crosshair in his cybernetic left eye flickering. Dan Heng shifts, smooths out his long coat. “I tried to look it up once. It's not in any database as a name...other than your wanted posters.” There's a thread beginning to fray near the hem, he should sew it up. “I couldn't find it anywhere.” 

He nearly takes it back, but- “Heh, ya that curious about me, darlin’?”

Dan Heng quickly levels his face into the most impassive, nonplussed expression he can muster, but Boothill has already turned away, head pillowed on his arms and face once again turned to the ceiling.

“But nah, ya wouldn't. Hah, like they'd allow any record of the language, fudgeheads.” One arm sweeps around blindly until it finds the edge of Boothill's hat, sets it back where it belongs on his head. Dan Heng shuffles around, scoots a little closer, but the brim is pulled too low to see his eyes anymore.

“It's ‘cause it's not a name. It's a noun.” All that's visible of his face is a sharp grin, pulled too tight at the edges.

“It's my people's word for a grave.”

Dan Heng's pencil stops.

“It's the kinda grave fer someone who died with their boots on. If ya catch my drift there.” Boothill's foot starts to bounce. “There was a war, and it got reeeeeal intense, yup. Folks started droppin’ like flies, ‘n’ there was bodies faster'n what we could bury ‘em.” A cooling fan kicks on somewhere. Dan Heng is pretty sure it's not any of the Express equipment.

“We lost some real good people there, real good. Mighty shame.” His hidden Vidyadhara ears detect a quiet metallic click, a whir, pressurized gas. Boothill's next words waft steam from his angry circuits into the air. “When I left, I decided to leave my name there, too. Didn't feel right otherwise. The life I lead now is a whole ‘nother existence.” And then Boothill turns his head, raises his hat, and Dan Heng suddenly feels pinned dead center, caught in that crosshair.

“Ya know what I mean, don'tcha?”

Dan Heng swallows.

Does Boothill know? Who he is and who came before him? There had been that moment in the Penacony Grand Theater, after he activated the Jade Abacus… Dan Heng had tried to shoo him out, keep him from seeing anything, but Boothill has the astounding ability to turn up exactly wherever people are trying to keep him away from.

If he did see, does he actually understand it? Does he know what a High Elder is? Does he know about the sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, the transmutation arcanum, everything Dan Feng had done and Dan Heng was punished for?

He doesn't want to explain it all. Not now. Possibly not ever, truth be told.

And it's not the same as Boothill leaving behind his old identity when whatever event happened that caused him to leave home. Not really. But…

But so far, Boothill has slid so easily into Dan Heng’s routine. His presence never feels like an intrusion. He's already figured out what he can push and when to back down. And even Dan Heng finds himself able to roll with whatever punches Boothill throws with baffling ease. They share too much in their methods and ideologies, and sometimes Dan Heng knows what Boothill will do seemingly before even Boothill himself knows.

“...Tell me about Talia and the Nailscrap Town.” Boothill must know he's avoiding the topic. He must. But the man just throws his head back and cackles, melting easily back into what they had been doing before, as he speaks fondly of a planet that Dan Heng has never visited.

Not today. But.

Dan Heng inches just a little closer, just enough to nudge his foot against a metal leg. Boothill doesn't pull away.

Maybe someday.

[vanillashusband]

Been playing with redesigning Pandan and. 🥺😳 he's finally getting the glow up he deserves hfhdggd

🧡TAGLIST: @selfshippinglover @earth-shaker @sunflawyer @honeycombscereal

@sunstar-of-the-north @sparklings-husband @mister-ancunin

[literarywhoard]

i love tachihara and gin together but not in a romantic setting (don't throw tomatoes at me but i feel this way with atsushi + ryuunosuke as well, i have my reasons...)

i need them to be best friends, but at first glance you think they hate each other. no they annoy each other for the bit. they take turns bullying each other. they're the reason why hirotsu has gray hair. i need gin to smack tachihara on the head because he's on her last nerve. i need tachihara to mock what gin says in funny voices. but i also need gin to see tachihara as a second brother and confide in him when ryuunosuke isn't around. and i need tachihara to come to gin asking about advice with girls.

i just wanna see cute boy/girl port mafia friendships man waaAAAAHHH

[enden-k]

after over 4 years one of my two lost husband is finally home (with the power of free ticket) ffs he never wanted to 💀💀💀💀

[clowningaroundmars]

morales twins vigilantes: getting found out pt 1

hey yall im in my fic writing era. but i am BAD at writing LMFAO i'm really not sure i'll ever write a proper fic with a plot or anything

either way, i hope yall like this lil drabble my brain came up with on a whim of the morales twins!

it's how i imagine the way their secret would be revealed after doing the whole vigilante thing together for a lil bit. it's kind of based on the hcs i had of the twins which is here, kind of a continuation of the last bullet point there actually

miles1610 is miles and miles42 is milo bc i read a couple fics with that name given to him and now it is stuck in my heart u_u

>2nd part here<

well. uh. hope u enjoy! :)

It was a fight that went slightly awry that really did them in.

No blood, no fireworks, no loud banging or explosions or anything. No one was even so badly hurt that they almost died, either.

It was simply just… a broken mask and their father unexpectedly being on patrol that fateful night that finally brought their secret out to light.

The Morales twins had been doing their vigilante thing together for only a few months now. Miles had been Spider-man for well over a year, of course, but it was after a particularly bad fight with a rhinoceros guy (what a freak…) that went semi-viral on social media that his brother Milo finally put his foot down and pulled those Prowler gloves from under his bed. He worked hard to modify the technology to better suit him, and had all of the armor and rope he needed in order to keep up with his brother all set in as little as 2 weeks.

Miles hemmed and hawed about bringing his not-super-powered brother around for the nasty fights he usually tackled alone. But he would be lying if he said that Milo’s concern didn’t put a small smile on his face in the end. Plus, it really helped out a lot when Miles needed to be somewhere quickly but still had a criminal left to take on and web up. Milo being just one text away from springing into action took a real big load off of his shoulders in ways he couldn’t even imagine.

That was about 3 months ago.

It was relatively smooth sailing until one Jefferson Davis took a night patrol under his belt without even warning the boys.

Well, Miles thought to himself in retrospect, we weren’t really around the house to catch if he did tell anyone, so.

Miles ran along a side of a building to catch up with the villain of the week. He was desperately trying to keep this super-powered baddie off of his not-so-super-powered brother, and not quite succeeding. Miles told Milo time and again not to tease any bad guys during a fight. Keep the attention off of you, bro. You do not have superpowers. I do! Is that not what Miles said? God, it’s like in one ear and out the other with this guy. Ugh.

Currently, Milo is parrying and deflecting attacks from this shocker-looking guy, a real piece of work. He still had his hi-vis vest on-- and Miles swore he even saw a name tag on it somewhere which was just hilarious, really-- but aside from his normal-looking work outfit, everything else about this dude was definitely not normal. Like the bright electricity fizzing all over his skull that just barely concealed this man’s real face, and the giant lightning bolts shooting out from his hands as he tried to fry Milo. It was a good thing Milo had enough sense to install energy-absorbing tech into those giant claws of his, or else Miles would be in real big trouble at the ER.

Miles ripped a chunk of some abandoned demolition project that never got done and swung it with all of his might in the direction of their fight, using his webs for maximum distance. It didn’t hit electro-dude but it almost hit his brother. Oops.

“Ayo, watch it!” Prowler growled, his mask distorting his voice the same way it distorted Uncle Aaron’s back when he held the mantle. He gracefully flipped out of the way and shot a grappling hook somewhere off into some scaffolding, pulling himself away from the action to let his bro fly in and give the temporarily-distracted electric-man some work.

Miles would snap back with a retort if he weren’t so busy pummeling this villain with all that he’s got. Both boys’ curfews were about an hour ago and they just knew their mom would be fuming once she got back and found out. But this needed taking care of, and neither Morales boys were willing to leave some freak of nature to take over Brooklyn and shut down all the power lines over a bedtime. Hell no.

But this needed to end now, or else good ol’ Spidey won’t be seeing the light of day for another 2 months. And by the looks of it, neither will the Prowler. Before Miles could even think to land the finishing blow on old lightning-head here though, tragedy struck.

An all-too familiar voice hollers out those dreaded words both boys hate hearing, especially in the middle of a fight.

“PDNY! Freeze! Put your hands up where we can see ‘em!”

Everyone did freeze, Milo looking particularly shocked as his head swivels around to the sight of waving flashlights and 3 burly but familiar silhouettes making their way past the far gates and advancing quickly into the fray.

Jefferson Davis’ gun appears to almost materialize out of the shadows, his face lit up in the harsh lights of his flashlight beam, sporting an intimidating, professional look. Cop mode, is what Miles and Milo called it jokingly one day as they lounged in their room, passing a bag of chips between them and having a laugh at their dad’s expense. That was before Milo took on the mantle of the Prowler. That was before this.

Miles panics slightly as he feels the man jump up underneath him, thrusting an arm into the police’s direction, ready to fire off a bolt--

Right after Milo lunges in front of the officers, ready to take the blast.

It happens in a fraction of a second. Miles didn’t even think he had enough time to open his mouth, let alone warn Jeff of the incoming danger. He figures that’s what Milo must’ve thought, too, otherwise there really was no other explanation for this stupid decision he just made.

Sparks flew, and then the thud of a body hitting the floor seemed to echo throughout the demolition site.

Shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshit, was Miles’ inner monologue as he finally landed the blow to the side of the baddie’s head, knocking him out successfully. He quickly webbed the man up to the floor, restraining him fully. The way I shoulda done in the first place, damnit, Miles lamented, freezing in place after the deed was done. His brain was working into overdrive to try and think of ways he could extract his now-nearly unconscious brother from this place without raising their dad’s suspicions.

Ever since Prowler joined in on Spider-man’s “adventures”, the media became even more fascinated with capturing every single moment it could of Spidey now that he had a sidekick in tow.

Headlines splashed on magazines, articles and news feeds read: “Batman and Robin! Spider-man and… the Prowler?” and “Webbed Menace Recruits Purple Sidekick, Even More of a Menace”. They haunted Miles’ every step. Milo, for his part, was mostly amused. But every now and then he would complain about being known as his brother’s sidekick, as if that was the most egregious part of having his every move recorded and uploaded for millions to see online.

Their mother became even more suspicious of her twin sons after she watched a video of the two vigilantes stopping a runaway bus in downtown Brooklyn. They looked eerily similar in size to her own teenage boys, and even seemed to banter the same way after all of the civilians were saved and back on solid ground. The way Spider-man clapped Prowler on the shoulder… hmmm.

To say that she shared her suspicions with her husband would be an understatement. Milo and Miles somehow always managed to catch a familiar cop car slowly rolling around corners and down streets, keeping pace just behind them, watching them. Miles would always roll his eyes, knowing it was their father. Milo would be annoyed but managed to shrug and keep minding his own business, since it was very obviously their father. When confronted, Jeff would try-- and fail-- to casually brush it off as simply doing Concerned Dad things.

“Listen, you two.” Jeff started one evening after dinner. He managed to get both boys down in their room one weekend, just for “a quick talk”. His excuse was that Brooklyn was getting too dangerous lately, especially at night, and that he was “gonna keep an eye on them” as a precaution.

But neither boy missed that slight nervous shift in his stance as he delivered the news, and once their dad bade them a good night and left, they gave each other a silent look that conveyed the exact same thought they were both thinking.

They’re onto us.

Well, their parents’ fears and suspicions were definitely going to be confirmed whether the twins liked it or not.

Milo groaned on the ground, the Prowler gauntlets having taken the majority of the blast sent his way, but the mask was halfway blown off, revealing a good portion of the boy’s face underneath. He rocked in place for a moment, blinking stars and dancing lights out of his eyes for just that one moment.

“Prowler!!” Miles shouted. In his panic, he forgot to lower his voice and conceal his identity, but his feet just wouldn’t move! What the hell, Morales… get it together! His brother was just badly injured and here he was, frozen in place like a deer.

Jeff, for his part, was barking orders to his coworkers and directing them to make a sweep of the place in case any other suspects tried to make a run for it.

They both left. He finally jolted his bright beam of light onto Spider-man, simply standing there a little ways away and staring back with those unnervingly gigantic bug-eyes of his. If Jeff wasn’t in work-mode right now, he’d explode on this guy and ask about what the hell was going on here, but Officer Davis was nothing if not a consummate professional.

Plus, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

There was what seemed like a teenage boy on the ground, wearing those goddamned gauntlets that Jeff could’ve sworn he shipped off to the junkyard after Aaron’s funeral. Damnit, if this punk was running around wearing his brother’s mantle and tagging along with Spider-man just to double-cross him in the end, there was gonna be hell to pay.

Jeff didn’t know why, but he felt slightly protective of the bug-themed hero, damnit. Sue him. And those claws brought nothing but terrible memories of screaming women, dead brothers and heightened stress. He did not need this right now, fuck.

Once the boy on the ground stirred, Jeff quickly pointed his gun and flashlight beam directly onto him. “Those orders were for you, too, punk. Do not try me tonight. Freeze. Put your hands out where I can see ‘em!”

Milo froze on the ground, and then tried to twist his face away from his looming father who was only a foot or two away with the world’s brightest flashlight in his face, fuuuuck. He just knew he was gonna be feeling this headache for the next 3 days…

Tentatively, he also raised his claws in front of his face as slowly as he could, trying to cover his face even more. He propped himself up on his elbows and tried to regulate his breathing.

Having a cop for a dad was not always peachy, but it helped a lot to know exactly how an officer would react if any sudden movements were made while having a gun out, and Milo was not trying to get a bullet to the chest on top of the mother of all electric shocks as well. No thank you.

It was in this moment that Miles’ brain started working again, and he unstuck himself from the pavement to reach out to his dad.

“Offi-- ahem, ahem. Officer Davis,” he remembered to lower his tone and conceal his voice a bit as well, and continued, “what a surprise to see you here. On this, uh. This very beautiful night!”

Groan. Oh my god. Even Milo rolled his eyes a bit, trying to shuffle back.

“I said FREEZE!” Jeff roared, attention still trained on Milo.

Without glancing up, he added, “And you Spider-man. Oh, buddy you are gonna get it after I’m done with this little asshole, runnin’ around with my brother’s-- man, y’know what-- nevermind! Just stay back, okay? I got this handled.”

“But wait! Th-that’s uh. He’s not an asshole, officer, he’s my-- my sidekick! He’s the good guy!! He helped me take this guy down! And he even saved you just now!” Miles waved his hands around frantically, agitating Jeff.

Stop doing that, stupid! Milo thought to himself in a daze, still recovering from the electric blast.

“Stay back, Spider-man. I’m warning you.” Jeff growled.

Miles picked up the hint and halted his movements, giant white eyes flicking back up and down from his dad to his brother and back. He had to think of something, or else Milo would be dragged back to a holding cell and both of their identities would be out. He just couldn’t let that happen.

Biting his lip, Miles gathered some resolve and stepped forward again. “Officer Davis—”

“Not another word outta you!” Jeff swung the flashlight right back onto Miles threateningly, and then trained it back onto Milo again. “I am serious right now, Spidey. One more word outta you and I’m slappin’ the cuffs on you too, I swear to god! I got more than enough room in the back of the squad car for two freaks!”

Miles recoiled. “Freaks. Geez, is that what you think of us?”

But Jeff didn’t answer, because he was all of a sudden deathly silent.

Both of the other officers just finished their sweep of the area, and were making their way back to Jeff when he all of a sudden kneeled down, still training that gun on Prowler’s face. But his movements were slow and hesitant, as if he were performing them in a daze.

Miles’ spider senses should’ve been tingling by now, at the very least a little. Still, he stayed glued to his spot as he watched Officer Davis-- as if in slow motion-- shifting his flashlight and gun into one hand, lowering both slightly and away from Prowler’s shattered mask.

As his other hand reached out, Milo flinched, but he didn’t need to. Jeff simply carded his calloused fingers over his hair, his braid on the one side of his head, in reverence. Milo couldn’t breathe. He was too scared to speak.

And then everyone’s blood ran cold at the same time.

Jeff saw the beads of Milo’s favorite basketball team colors, ones that he was excited to get again at the barber shop last weekend, simply hanging there tied to the ends of the Prowler’s braid, sitting limply in his hand. Milo’s blood ran cold once he realized exactly what it was that his own father was looking at. He didn’t need to reveal his face whatsoever when his now-exposed hair told the whole story anyways.

Miles’ spider senses finally kicked up once Jeff looked up slowly, an absolutely ruined expression rippling across his worn-out features as he really gave Spider-man a good, hard look, eyes playing over what little he could see of the vigilante in the darkness of night.

For a split second, no one said anything.

Even electro-head seemed to be silent as he came to and tried to sneakily rip the webs off of him. No dice. He finally turned his attention to the trio not too far away and opened his mouth.

“Hey, what the hell is this, some family reunion or something? Let me outta here, man! Goddamn, what a fuckin’ punch, man… shit…”

Everyone startled at the same time, turning their attention to the villain. Damn, almost forgot about him.

The other officers finally arrived to surround the other angles behind Spider-man, one of them even kneeling down beside electric-- whatever, the villain of the week-- and started cutting him out of the sticky ropes to put him in cuffs.

“Don’t even think about it,” one of them grunted once they got to his hands and saw a tingle of electricity surging through fingertips. “We got dampeners in my squad car if you try anything cute, got it?”

Jeff slowly holstered his gun, keeping the flashlight trained on the Prowler, unable to tear his eyes from this boy lying on the ground at his feet.

“Davis…? You good?” This was the officer who wasn’t busy wrangling sticky webs off of the baddie. He had his flashlight and gun trained on said baddie of course, but his head was swiveled to look at his captain.

Jeff swallowed hard and nodded slowly, a weirdly mechanical kind of movement.

“…Okay. Hey, Spidey. Thanks for this, I guess,” said the officer, keeping his concerned gaze trained on Jeff, shrugging a shoulder. “Too bad about your friend though. Hope he’ll be fine.”

It took Miles a second to recognize that iconic mustache, and then it dawned on him that it was his dad’s faithful friend and his own sidekick, Officer Gutierrez. How ironic, Miles thought ruefully.

He turned back to his dad, who was now helping Prowler up from the ground and steadying him against his side.

“What’re we doing with these two?” Gutierrez asks, because someone has to.

Jeff startles, as if he was just asleep and happened to wake up. “Uhh, about...?”

Gutierrez gave him a look. “The mask guy under your arm. And, uh. This guy,” he points his chin towards VOTW (villain of the week) as he’s being hauled up forcibly by the other officer, now in giant sturdy cuffs binding his arms together.

“The… that guy. Electric man. Just… just put those dampeners on his hands and take him down to HQ. They’ll probably just ship him off to the Raft. Let me know when you guys get there, of course. I’ll uhm. I think I’m gonna be taking my break right now.”

“You taking the mask-man all by yourself, then, captain?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will. It’s… something personal to me, to be seeing these claws on this boy. I’m sorry. I think I might explain later but right now, we gotta get that guy behind some kinda bars. Please, Gutierrez.”

Gutierrez gives him an unreadable expression, and Jeff shoots an apologetic look back.

Finally, his partner gives a small nod and turns back to the task at hand. Miles breathes out a sigh of relief.

But it was a breath too soon.

“Spider-man. Prowler. The both of you. My car. Now.”