#looking at old art be like (cringe but free)

[cosmodynes]

「夜の静けさに星々」 in that quiet darkness, stars japanese ver. cover!!!

わぁ、すごい！！we did it!!!! with help from Gshock99 and Kさん there is now a wonderful japanese script for this fanbook.

i made a few changes from the previously released version such as updated artwork in a few panels, and changing dialogue to better reflect JP script. the ENG pdf has been updated to reflect this.

you can pick it up (for free!!!) on BOOTH until 12/18 but please be 18+ ok? after that the ENG version will be on ko-fi.

[angelfoodscake]

ok👍

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake had a lot of free time.

In between the time little Timmy was deemed old enough to not need a nanny and his ninth birthday when he got his first film camera, Tim Drake had so much time after school to explore his big, empty house. And so he did, hours upon hours were spent exploring his house.

Mansion, Tim corrects himself. His house isn’t a house. It’s an abandoned mausoleum disguised as a mansion. He intimately knows every creak of the floorboards in the out of the way galleries, every heavy weight curtain shut closed so what little sun that makes it way through Gotham’s gloom is reflected in order to protect the artifacts stored within the walls. Tim probably knows the exact amount of fleur-de-lys on the fourth sitting room’s wall paper- by extrapolation from preexisting data and personal data collection. Basically, he laid on the floor and counted.

Tim had a lot of time. He also had a lot of artifacts to pore over, making stories as he goes and double checking the actual history of the object.

Tim thinks he’s an artifact, almost. To his parents, at least. A child, a thing, they collected at one point in their lives and put on display at the galas they deem worthy to return to Gotham for. Perhaps he’s worth even less, had his parents bothered to look at him more than the lesser art pieces in their storage-mansion. The story everyone knows about him is prerecorded by people who weren’t really there.

Regardless, Tim Drake knows every single corner of his prison mansion. He’s catalogued everything, after all, on a nice spreadsheet. 

And that’s why, as he entered the fifth- and least used- guest bedroom, Tim’s attention immediately cut to the wrong bit of detail. Eyes flickering between the indent on the bed, the mussed- but not terribly dirty- state of the sheets, Tim slowly backed towards the door. His eyes fixed on the spot on the bed, he called out a soft “hello?”

He immediately cringed. He’s not an amateur, and that little “hello” was a mistake that might get him killed.

Tim trembled as the panic set in, tears pooling at his eyes. He wished Batman and Robin were here, they’d know how to-

There’s something appearing on the bed. Tim Drake stares as a glowing figure with white, wispy hair and a black hazmat suit appeared sitting cross crossed on the guest bed. His gloved hands were held out in the universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.

“Don’t- don’t panic!” The thing said, looking rather panicked itself. “I’m, uh, Phantom.”

Tim Drake’s curiosity and mystery-solving mindset slammed down on the toddler’s mind, quickly banishing the fear and panick in favor of interrogating this new, exciting thing.

“I’m Tim. Are you…” Tim frowns, wishing he had Batman’s intimidating growl. “A ghost?”

“Got it in one, kiddo. I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything! I just wanted to rest.”

Tim blinked. He decided right then and there that he likes this person. This… Phantom. If his trust was based on the fact that the loneliness was worse than a dead person, no, it wasn’t.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead..?”

——

Danny stared at the child in front of him, watching the kid- Tim- pout at something. Danny is distracted from the staples holding his ghostly guts from falling out of his non-consensual vivisection when the kid asks him if he’s a ghost.

“Got it in one, kiddo!” Oo, he should tone down the energy. Danny’s too tired right now to maintain that level when speaking to Tim. Now, gotta reassure the kid he means no harm before he reports Danny’s presence to whatever authorities around.

His parents, at best. The cops, at worst.

“I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything!” He could tell he landed in some richie rich mansion by the opulent decorations in a seemingly impersonal room alone. “I just wanted to rest.”

Ancients, that had been more honest than he’d wanted. He really was out of it.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead?”

Danny snorted.

“Yeah, but you can almost never have enough sleep, you know?”

The toddler looks unsure but nods anyways.

“Listen, would you… not tell anyone that I’m here? I’ll be out of your hair soon, promise.

Tim looks like a smart kid. There’s no way he’d fall for-

“Okay.” He fell for it. Danny blinked, stupefied. “My parents won’t be home for a while.”

“What.”

Tim shrugged. “You can stay. The housekeeper is only around a couple of days.”

“You… are you supposed to tell me that?”

Tim sent him a derisive look, clearly bolder now that Danny made no moves to hurt him.

On his cherubic but skinny face, the effect is both adorable and absolutely devastating.

“You’re hurt.” Tim fidgeted with his hands. “I can… I can get you water…?”

His core purred.

“Please. Thanks… Tim?”

The kid beamed at him and left.

Crap. New fraid member it is.

——

Danny, naive: “Surely him trusting strangers is just a one time thing, he’s so well behaved”

Tim, staring Danny in the eyes as he jumps out of the window to go stalk his vigilantes: “I’m gonna go take a walk in Crime Alley”

——

Tim gets Danny water, but it’s tap water from Gotham and is infected with both an ungodly amount of toxins (that doesn’t affect either of them bc one’s dead and the other had been chugging it since they were a baby- Gothamites get bottled water or from Wayne Foundation’s Clean Water Stations) and also like trace amounts of ectoplasm.

Danny: woah this is so healthy water!

Tim, pleased because Danny ruffled his hair: yes, I’m perfect

The rest of Gotham, if they knew: making warding sigils against these two eldritch gods

——

Basically, Danny gets attached and stays mostly because of said attachment but also Danny could see Tim’s budding world dictator tendencies and went yeah gotta curb that

[hana-no-seiiki]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ?

╰┈➤ [ CH 02.1 ] LEAP OF FAITH

pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader

tw/cw: mild yandere themes, stalking, spoilers for the spiderverse movies (this part covers a majority of the first one) and spiderman games. VV LONG PART!! Lots of canon divergences!!! reader gets called a kid multiple times but they’re an adult.

status: severely unedited

a/n: although i included spanish and uncle aaron, please be reminded that [y/n] looks however you’d like! you may even alter how unc looks since i don’t describe his appearance anyways. i’ll also be adding stuff from the spiderman games to expand on some characters so everything is not one to one from the movies.

wanted to get this out sooner for you all so this part will be divided into two or more depending on how far i get into the movie

[previous] [masterlist] [next]

The dark, putrid alleyways of Gotham was a place that should never be treaded by a small, weak kid like you. You cringed at the sound and feel of your favorite shoes sinking into the water with every step, and then frowned at the thought that your mom wouldn’t be the one washing these later now that you lived in a dorm. Still, even if those criminals didn’t capture you for ransom, or maybe your favorite vigilantes didn’t accidentally kill you, you were sure your dad would — no absolutely will. Maybe having a new home to go to wasn’t so bad.

“I’m gonna get in so much trouble.”

You muttered with a massive grin on your features. Fear always treated you a little differently. If anything it made you walk a little faster. It had been a while since you and Aaron had little fun together, and you definitely wouldn’t let a future sermon get in the way of such a rare opportunity.

Your uncle, his hands tucked into his puffer jacket-hoodie hybrid nudged you with his shoulder. Your much smaller, younger frame almost toppled over.

“Hey man, tell him your art teacher made ya.”

“How’d you know about this place?”

“Did an Engineering job down here.” Whew, even hearing the word Engineering from your Uncle made you shudder. “What?” He asked, you couldn’t tell if he was concerned, weirded out, or just chillin’. He was always hard to read.

“Nothing.” You took a deep breath in, “Dad wants me to get into Engineering.”

You two stop at some metal fencing with a door, which was conveniently climbable. Your uncle quickly demonstrated how with a few swift moments. Damn, it was almost as if he was used to breaking and entering.

“And you?” He smirked.

“I-“ You took a deep breath, It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to getting into shenanigans and sneaking into places yourself. You jumped, barely able to reach the door’s height, awkwardly heaved your body upwards to the gap between the fence and the ceiling, before not so gracefully squeezing yourself and your backpack through. “augh — don’t know yet.”

“Whassup?” You looked at your uncle, a huge and crooked grin of triumph in your features.

“Hahaha— I knew we were related. I’ll tell you something though. Just make sure you can pay the bills and sort out your taxes.”

You groaned in response to his advise. You definitely weren’t ready to be a proper adult yet.

You two then proceeded to the best spot you’ve ever seen in Gotham yet.

“Whoa!” Your mouth was so wide open in awe that it almost hurt. You yelled, “Gothaamm!!” Jumping giddily at the echo.

“There’s a lot of history on these walls.” Your uncle let his hand graze across the old graffiti, tracing each line with a soft, yet proud look on his face.

Excited, you swiftly dropped your backpack, taking out a few cans of paint. “This is so fresh.” And so you did your thing. Letting your instincts guide you as you got back into the groove of spray painting. It had been a while, your hands were shaky at times, but nonetheless you were in your element. Free. Unafraid of mistakes or the far future.

You smiled, truly, for once since your enrolment. There was just a few last touches.

“A little help?”

“Wow.”

“Too crazy?”

“Nah, man. [N/N] I see exactly what you’re doing here.” Aaron patted you on the back before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You know, your dad and I used to do this back in the day.”

“Stop lyin’! A guy a like him? I bet he snitch on ya right after.”

“No, no, it’s true! But then he took on the cop thing and . . . I don’t know.” Your uncle had a tense look appear on his face. As if he tasted something bitter. And then, a distant, yet sweet nostalgic one replaced it as the words escaped his lips, “He’s a good guy . . . just . . . you know what I’m sayin?���

“Speaking of good. You don’t have to act all strong when you’re with me.” He gave you a light punch to your arm. “I knew you two were close. Heck, I made a couple of bets that you two would get married in the future. Didn’t know I’d lose to nature of all things.”

“Wait. Hang on— bets?!” Blood rushed to your face. You feel warm and cold at the same time. Were you two that obvious?

“I didn’t know him that well. But what I do know is that he put a huge smile on your face. Bigger than any of the ones I could ever draw on ya.” His rubs his thumb to the corner of your lips, “So feeling bad that he’s gone? That’s a given, kid.”

“Thanks, unc.” You leaned into his touch, “But it really isn’t Miguel. It’s—“

His phone rang. Damn.

“Sorry, [N/N]. I gotta roll.”

“No problema.”

A grave look flicked across your uncle’s features. Must have been the stress from work you supposed. Being called at this hour? You were dreading Engineering even more.

“[Y/N]! We gotta go.”

Turns out spending most of the night outside in the cold right before school was a bad idea. It was as if everything was irritating you. Your clothes felt tighter, your sweats… sweatier. Wait. This could only mean one thing.

“I think I hit puberty!” You exclaimed. Finally you could be as tall as those other kids in school.

Realizing you yelled that out loud and startled your roommate was a tad bit embarrassing though. “. . . Ehehe. . . sorry.”

‘I gotta get new clothes.’

‘Wait, why is the voice in my head so loud?’

“Watch where you’re—“ Of all the people you bump into . . . “[L/N].” Damian’s beautiful green eyes would have been great to stare at if he didn’t use them to glare at everyone. You almost shriek at the random tingle you feel behind your neck. Why were you getting goosebumps all of a sudden? I mean he is hot but not that hot.

“You know my—“

“Yeah. I know everyone’s.” He quickly overtook your attempt at a conversation. “6pm. Weekend. Don’t be late, 42.” And there he goes.

Wait, wasn’t that your raffle number?

“How does he know— He- He really has some issues.” You shook your head. Your mom often brought you around the community to help and whatnot, as such you weren’t that fazed when people just knew stuff about you without knowing who they are.

“Talk about it.” In anycase, you know who’s actually that hot?

“Gwen!”

“Hi. You called me by name for once.” Her eyes traveled all over your body, and it took everything in you not to grin like an idiot, scream and turn red all at the same time. “Are you alright or . . ? You’re sweating, like a lot.”

Shit. Damn your body for betraying you! “I am?”

“Hang on.” She brings forth a face towel, a little damp to the touch, but useful nonetheless.

“Sorry, it has my own sweat on it.”

“It’s great, I mean fine! Thank you.” Holy shit you just sweat melded with Gwen. Laughing awkwardly you give it back to her. Or at least attempt to.

“Uh, you can let go now.”

“I think . . . I think it’s stuck to my hand?”

“What?”

“I- It won’t come off!”

You suddenly feel a static, and judging from Gwen’s face, you know she felt it too.

“What was that?!”

“Okay, [Y/N] listen. Pay close attention. I need you to calm down.”

“Calm down?! How does calming down help?!”

“It’ll be much more helpful for you to be calm rather than panicked at the very least!” Gwen slowly inhaled and exhaled. Damn was she good at everything she does? How is she not panicking like you were? “Breathe in, and out.”

In anycase, a couple of breathing exercises later and a horrid excuse to not make your crush — and hence why your nerves were on end despite the calm atmosphere of a library — that obvious. You two part ways.

Well not without a final word from her.

“We have to talk later” She says. The lighthearted, calm tone turned serious.

You don’t know how you got to this moment. Somewhere, sometime when you were running away from the school guards because of your new found powers — you found yourself in a middle of a fight between Spiderman and The Lizard.

“Dr. Curtis, listen to me! You cannot open up a portal to another dimension. Gotham is not zoned for that. We’re barely surviving here in the first place!” Geez harsh dig, but man was he right. You don’t know how many days your mom spent crying wondering if your dad would come back after being sent to fight Joker of all people.

Still your dad never fails to intimidate you. Despite your powers being oddly similar to Spiderman, you think it’d be best if you left before your parents started calling—

“It’s not up to me!”

You gulped, perhaps the lizard looked a little more imposing than a sermon.

“Why won’t you quit?!”

“I guess I like Gotham not being sucked into a black hole?! Metropolis maybe, not Gotham!”

You gasp as the floor beneath you disappears, you find yourself free falling.

THWIP!

“You’re cute. And your shoes are untied.” As if you weren’t already out of breath, Spiderman just had to call you cute while you were basically heaving from all the physical activity and the anxiety of having a giant lizard on your ass. “I’m basically wearing a onesie so I don’t really have to worry about it.” The man makes it worse and approaches you, holding up your Air Jordan’s and tying it laces.

You feel a tingle down your spine that flows down your limbs. One that looped over and over like some sort of feedback. Same as Gwen’s but somehow stronger.

Spiderman snapped his head from your shoes to your face once more. The white eye-like part of his mask widened.

“You’re a Spider, too? Damn.” Spiderman mouthed the last word breathlessly, though it didn’t seem to be out of being tired. He seemed quite . . . relaxed almost. He was in his element.

You shook your head, “I don’t want to be . . .” And clearly, you weren’t being good enough for it if you couldn’t handle even half of what he’s doing.

“We don’t have a choice.” The unyielding nature of his statement took you aback. You weren’t sure if it was out of awe or fear for the future.

“Got a lot going through your head I’m sure. You’re gonna be fine, I can help you. Show you the ropes? I just needta destroy that big machine before the space time continuum collapses. Try not to move around too much.” He gives your shoes one last tug, and you see the mask shift a little around his mouth area. He’s smiling.

He then styles on you by backflipping unto a rail, doing the classic “hero stake out” pose before he saluted, “See ya.”

“Crap.” Spiderman mouthed as the entire contraption collapsed.

“What happened there?! Are you alright?!" You ran to his frankly, horrid state of self. On the floor, bruised and beaten. His mask torn on one of his eyes, revealing a brilliant blue.

“Talk later, escape now.” He coughed, spitting out some blood.

“Right. Where do I. . .?” Crap. Were you really going to learn about Spiderman's real identity just like that? You wondered were such a man lived. Prolly up town where all the socialites were. Dude's probably neighbors with the likes of Bruce Wayn-

“ . . . Gotham Visions Dormitory.”

“I can’t believe Spiderman just slept next door and he’s a senior in my school!”

“Sshhhh! And yeah, well. The world is a small place. Gotham’s even smaller.” He puts a finger on your lips. A sigh escaped his. Seconds pass before he continued, “I just can’t believe Papa’s kid would be my protégé.”

“You-You-Y-You heard that?!”

“I hear a lot of things.”

You nodded at him. You too have heard many things since your powers first manifested. You wonder how he can handle so much stimuli every single day while going to Visions and being a badass hero.

What were you supposed to do again? Right - ! You had a spider to save. You swiftly shuffled through his belongings. Strangely enough you don't see any pictures of him lying around. Not that you wanted to sneak a peek as to how those pretty blue eyes fit into the picture. Not at all.

After a minute or so, you find a first aid kid and begin mending the most damaging areas of his body. Thankfully you don't spot nor feel foreign objects stuck inside him and it seems as if he's already healed many of the minor wounds.

Superheroes man. So cool.

“You seem pretty experienced with handling this kind of stuff. Should I be concerned?”

“Had a friend that got beaten up quite a lot. Picked it up for him. May I?" You gestured to his mask.

“I . . . see. And go ahead. I need a breather and this thing ain't helping."

You patted his face and neck for any indication of where to pull, finding a slit underneath his chin. Gingerly, you tugged on the latex like fabric.

Your [e/c] meeting those baby blues once more, only more clearly now.

And the fan blogs about him were so right, he is blond!

That would make him the second blondie you've had the feedback loop with now that you thought about it. You were about to mention Gwen but -

“Harry!” Spiderman covered the rest of his body with blanket so quickly that you barely even processed the new person by the time he finished making his move.

What the heck- why'd he even let you- was he just making fun of you- using you-

“Pete. Woah. You look . . .” 'Harry' looked at your new Spider tutor with a mildly concerned glance. Not even moving to help you with the first aid.

“Yeah yeah. You know the drill."

“And you . . .” Harry's eyes drift to your spot. You look away, scared of making direct eye contact. Great, another hot guy.

“Papa’s kid. I know.” You mumbled. A rising sense of resentment for your father ebbed and flowed within your spider venom infested veins.

“No no. There is that yeah, but I mean. You’re the one Peter kept—“

“Harry!” 'Peter' groaned. Huh, you never expected Spiderman to have such a nerdy name.

“Fine. Though, he wasn’t lying. You really are cute.”

Peter groaned even louder this time, an achievement considering his face was buried in a pillow for this round.

“You called me cute earlier too, why are you hiding now?”

“That’s different!”

“Woah, Peter called you cute? To your face? Who are you and what have you done to my friend?”

“Shut up.”

You sense an upcoming wave of awkward silence. As such, the kind person that you were, you quickly finished helping Peter with the injuries he had exposed and stated, “That should be it. My room is just next door. To the left. I’ll be there if you need me.”

You silently return the first aid kid where it belonged and sneak your way to the door as if the two men weren't staring at you at this moment. "Goodbye um- sir Peter. Sir Harry."

And then you were gone.

“You don’t mind if we share right?”

“Harry. Could you not? I’m serious.”

“Woah. What’s with the attitude and volume?”

“I. . . like them. A lot. You know this already.” Peter suddenly had this longing look on his face. Equal parts in hopeless romantic and obsession.

“Clearly I didn’t truly comprehend the extent of your yearning ‘til now. Sheesh. Okay, they’re all yours.” Harry paused for dramatic effect, “For now.”

“Harry!”

“Hey, uh — Gwen. Got caught up in something. I’ll talk to you after I’m done with . . . everything. I should be free just before next week starts. See ya.”

Click!

You were never really good with excuses. Your mind raked through everything you knew just to give Gwen that message.

In anycase, overwhelmed as you were. Your feet took you to one place the anxiety and stress seemed to melt away (aside from Uncle Aaron’s crib).

“This week just keeps getting worse.” You sighed, slamming the window to your room shut after sneaking in.

Well, getting in and getting caught right after.

“Police! Put your hands up!” Your father exclaimed. But his voice doesn’t alert you at all. If anything you were bracing yourself for the sermon right after.

“Wait a sec. [Y/N]?” Your mother appeared from behind him with a frying pan in hand.

You took a deep breath. Facing them both.

How could you say that you were afraid? Scared? Unbelievably crushed underneath all this pressure about going to Gotham Visions and possibly becoming a hero of your own soon.

You'd have to fight giant lizards. Giant sandstorm creating men.

And all you had was you,

and your family.

“[Y/N]—? Why aren’t you at—“ You rushed to hug your dad. Encasing the old man with your arms so tight that it almost took the wind out of the poor officer. “Woah woah. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“. . . No. No it’s . . . “ Not. Everything is not okay. You were about to take on the responsibility of a lifetime. Something you couldn’t – shouldn’t — escape even if you all you wished was to run away from it all.

“[Y/N]? Qué te pasa? Is it the earthquake?” Your mother joined in the hug. Rubbing your back as her other hand held her husband (frying pan put aside).

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You asked.

“[Y/N], it’s a weeknight. You made a commitment to that school.”

“Jeff, they’re upset.”

“Of course you can stay.” Your father immediately changed tune. Heh, he really was weak to your mother.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really hate Spiderman?”

“Yeah. . ? I mean, for a vigilante he isn’t as bad as that friend of his, Red Hood—“

“Jeff, mi amor?”

“What? They asked me! Baby you know how I feel about those people c’mon.” Your father’s voice fades away, taking your mother’s stern look as a sign that he may not be wanted there all too much at the moment.

“Tú sabes que él te quiere mucho. That’s why he’s tough on you. You know that, right?”

“Mhm. I . . . I know.” You knew. But most of the time than not you couldn’t fully comprehend or understand your father. Despite clearly never appreciating or responding well to his tough love approach, he kept doubling down and forcing what he thought was good for you. “Mami. Do you ever think about moving out of Gotham?”

Your mother shook her head.

“Our family doesn’t run from things, [Y/N].”

“What’s this?” You gestured the red box Peter handed you. It was wrapped by some blue ribbon.

“My old suit. Figured we should get that part right before anything else.” He watches you with a smile as you opened it. “It’ll just be a placeholder before I give your measurements to my aunt.”

“Your aunt?”

“My partner in crime. Well — fighting crime. Aside from Jace. But we don't talk about him behind his back otherwise he'll just suddenly appear like the devil." He whispered the last part into your ear. Jace? Was that another vigilante? Sounds like a pompous name. Or maybe you’ve been watching Arcane way too much in anticipation for the next season.

“This is . . . a bit too big.”

“Who knows? It might fit, eventually. Spider puberty is a little finicky.”

“Tell me about it.” You’ve gone through a lot of your handkerchiefs from all the sweat you’ve been excreting.

“You mind?” He gestured his hands in a pulling down motion. You tilted your head in confusion but then slowly pieced together that he wanted to help you put it on.

“Go ahead.”

“That should be it.” He patted your back after securing your suit on.

It sagged a bit on your body, but worked nonetheless.

“That static, tingly thing in our heads. What’s that?”

“Spider-sense. It alerts you of incoming danger. It should do you well to listen to it.”

“Listen to static??”

“You’ll learn its language soon enough. In anycase, first on today’s agenda! Web-slinging. Very important. That’s how we get to any place at any time, whenever someone needs us. It’s what puts me — now us — Spiderpeople ahead of other vigilantes in the area.” He said with what you could assume was a big grin on his face by the way his mask moved.

“Alright. What do I do?”

“Just jump across and —“ Peter flicked his wrist forward, almost hitting you with the sticky goo that makes up his web.

You nod. This should be easy enough right?

Jump and flick. Jump and flick.

What you failed to calculate within your plans was that flicking your wrist needed to be timed precisely otherwise your web would not reach its proper destination.

“AAAAAAAH—!” You screamed as your webs landed on air, your body falling down.

With your eyes sewn shut, you fully expected a crash and the painful reality of falling at least 5 stories.

But somehow, you miraculously get caught. You opened your eyes and . . .

“Woah.” Your mouth went agape. If Peter was cute, whoever just saved your ass (literally) was pretty. Impeccable pale skin, dark and mysterious blue eyes that screamed sleepless but nonetheless striking, and oh his hair. Jet black. Perfectly framing his face.

And as if the heavens decided to reward you for trusting Peter's guidance and taking the fall (literally), it seemed that the ogling was not one-sided, “Are you an angel from heaven?” You both say in sync.

It had not been a moment since that came out from your mouth and you already regretted it. Augh. Cringe.

“Timmy! Old pal!” Peter landed behind him with a large smack to the shoulder, almost making this ‘Timmy’ drop you. “I see you’ve met my protégé.”

“Spider . . .” Peter struggled to put a title on you, “ . . . baby meet Timothy “Tim.” Drake, my underclassman. Timsies, meet my new partner.”

“He knows?” You whispered, as if Tim wasn't there still holding unto to you.

“Yep, he’s actually the Red Robin.” Peter whispered back, playing along with you.

“Peter!” Tim whisper-shouted, smacking Peter’s nape. Not before putting you down gently, of course. What a gentleman.

“R-r-red RobIN?! I’m such a huge fan! I - I bought all of your merch and—“ An alarm went off from inside your suit. You curse as you realized that getting your phone out to close it would take ages. Thankfully you knew what it meant however.“Crap. I gotta go.”

“Go where—?” Peter questioned.

“Well, I have this project with this kid from my class, Damian Wayne?”

“You were partnered with him? Good luck.” Tim had a look of both pity and a hint of delight.

“That happens to be Tim’s little brother.” ‘Barely’ the person in question muttered. “Why don’t I bring you there? Think I should have given you a proper example before throwing you off a building.”

“Why am I not surprised that you almost broke someone’s back with your antics? One day you’ll get ‘em killed.”

Peter doesn’t even answer him properly, “Oh no, your coffee.”

“Ah.” Tim stared at the brown stain in the snow. “I’ll just buy another one. Take care you two.”

And you somehow don’t throw up as Peter took you to the skies. He gives you pointers once on air. Something about wrist angles, pendulum theories and a whole bunch of physics. Unfortunately for him, half of the time was spent with you being thinking and being distracted by how pretty Tim was.

“You’re a godsend. Sometimes.” At least, even with the crap spider tutelage, being a baby spider meant free, fast rides across the New York.

“Just your friendly neighborhood spider.”

You heard lightning in the distance.

“Never gets old.” Peter put his hands on his hips. Neither surprised nor creeped out by the eerie ambiance. “Don’t worry about the creepy atmosphere, the Waynes are huge softies inside. I’ll pick you up at . . . ?”

“Oh, no no no! I’ll be fine. You’ve already helped a lot. (and almost killed me a couple of times) Thank you.” You vehemently denied his help. Fearing for what may happen despite the safe journey here.

“Always here to help. Or not. Good luck, Spiderbaby!”

“You’re on time.” The green-eyed classmate of yours looked raised his annoyingly perfect eyebrows. Considering your track record with classes, you couldn’t blame him.

“Of course.” Damian terrified you way too much for you to be late. He does not reply, so you open your mouth to keep the atmosphere from being too awkward, “Nice place you—“

“No small talk. Now that you’re done fulfilling the bare minimum. We can begin. Follow me.”

He led you through a bunch of hallways. Probably filled with antiques that would make your entire neighborhood go bankrupt. Your past experiences in rich people’s houses made you repeat one thing in your head as your treaded the extravagantly carpeted hall

‘Keep your arms to the side.’ His voice bounced around in your head. Echoes of the past that you've buried for so long. The moment you even raised a finger, you could be charged for theft. Especially if the owner was extra elitist and a douche. Like how his dad used to be.

“Woah, you draw too? These are so cool!” You ogled as you and Damian reached his room. It was as fancy as you expected it to be. Dreary and dark if not for the presence of animal toys and art supplies.

“I said no—“

You continued yapping, far too excited by the concept of Damian having something in common with you to stop. “A whole Windsor and Newton set, of course. I could only wish to have these.” You sighed dramatically. If only you could—

You feel static down your spine. Just by the width of a hair you managed to dodge Damian throwing a paintbrush at you. You look behind to see the wooden end of it stuck within a wall.

“What the heck, that could have hurt!”

“You have good reflexes.”

“Not even a sorry?” Damian raised one of his eyebrows (which are super thick now that you looked closely) and then gave you one scathing hot glare. “Fine, fine.”

It took about half an hour before you found yourself dosing off to dreamland.

“What are you doing? We don’t have all night to work—“

“I’m done. Been waiting for you for forever.”

“Give me that.” He snatched your paper off of your hands.

“Hey!”

“This is . . . acceptable.” He then waved your paper around before slamming it unto the table. “Only that it doesn’t hold any substance at all. It’s too vague. Our teacher told us to talk about our personal experiences. Not hypothetical ones.”

“I’m afraid if I write my personal experiences it’d be way too depressing.” You half joked. Trying yet failing to get a laugh out of your partner to ease the mood. A terrible one to pick for that reason but hey, playing dumb this entire year was your forte at this point.

Maybe cause you were actually a little stupid in some places.

“Then write it.”

“I just said—“

“So what if your life is depressing? It’s your own life. Your story. If she judges you for being honest then it’s her fault.”

“Damian?” Your mouth agape in awe, you said, “You’re so cool, y’know that?”

Besides being the son of Bruce Wayne, he was also the little brother of your favorite hero. You’ve also heard of the rumors. How perfect Damian was at everything. Some people were just favored by the Gods you supposed.

“I know. Besides it’s what was written in the instructions.” Damian huffed. Again, seemingly unaffected by your words. Understandably so, he probably got praised on the daily with how utterly immaculate he was.

Kind of makes you want to push his buttons.

“To be honest, you seemed so scary I almost bailed. Glad my fear of angering you outweighed my fear of you in general.”

“Hm.” Nope. Nothing at all. At least, nothing that you’ll ever see. As the moment you looked away out of boredom, an ever so faint smirk etches itself unto Damian’s countenance.

The rest of the evening passed in silence. Nothing comfortable, you were in an eerie mansion with one of the scariest people you knew after all, but nothing too awkward or chilling either.

“Bye Damian! It was nice working with you!” You waved, making your exit. A sense of relaxation and slight euphoria in your veins as you finally got whatever that was done.

“They seemed nice.”

Damian does not reply to Alfred’s words verbally. Only nodding as a polite response before he left.

Alfred stared at your form as it grew smaller. “. . . albeit a tad familiar.”

“Hey, Mig.” Your body instinctively relaxed as you saw the picture frame above his gravestone, right next to a large bouquet of fresh flowers; a thin layer of snow atop of it.

You wiped it off from both items, before proceeding to kneel down as you always did during your visits, “I missed ya.” You began.

“I’ve been a bit behind on my Spanish lessons, and I haven’t had much use for it since, you know.” Your hand moved around, animated. “Everything has just been so hectic. I feel like every single time I thought things were at its worst the world just piles on more duties for me to take.” And then it fell back to your side.

You bury your face into your knees.

“Is this what you felt like?” You recalled the hours he spent perfecting table manners and speech. The way his life was turned upside down by a single revelation of his parenthood. “Your dad got a lot nicer when you were gone. Your death was definitely a wake-up call to his prejudices. He even offered to pay for my fees at Visions.”

Of course, you refused. Citing the fact that now that Miguel was gone there was no use to niceties. It was too late, your opinion of him and those rich folks who walked all over you would never change no matter how much they poured.

. . . Actually, you change your mind. With the way the current Spiderman was teaching you, you might need some help paying a couple hospital bills along with damages of property.

“You are supposed to be where I am. I bet you’d do a lot better as a Spiderman too.”

In fact, you believed that he would have been perfect. Miguel was the kindest, most self sacrificing person you knew. He would have taken this responsibility with stride and his head held high.

If only you had a better teacher. Someone who was more practical and had more experience.

“Hey Kid.”

After what felt like a chase and a half, you managed to bring the man you knocked out back home. It took a while but you knew your father had some rope, a punching bag, and a place where you wouldn’t get caught (your room, securely locked with a table).

But most importantly, what your dad had was a lot of movies with cops/detectives in them. Interrogation techniques were always something he’d discuss and use on you whenever you’d do something against the house’s ‘laws.’ Which was… more often than not.

“Why do you look like Peter?”

“Because I am Peter.”

You looked at him with a face of utter disbelief. Gesturing to his form you questioned, “Then why are you older? Why is your hair different? Why is your nose broken? And why is your body a-a different . . . shape?”

“Did you just call me fat?”

“N-no- just different!”

“Hey listen kid. Fat shaming isn’t a part of cute privilege alright?”

Ignoring the part where this random ass stranger called you cute, for the sake of this conversation’s brevity and your curiosity you surmised the following, “Are you . . . Are you from another dimension, like from a parallel universe where things are like this universe but different and you’re Spiderman in that universe but somehow traveled to this universe, but-but you don’t know how?”

“Wow cute and smart. That was really just a guess?”

“Learned about it in physics. Visions really drills those in within the first month.”

“Quantum Theory.” You two mouthed in sync.

“This is amazing! I can have two teachers! You seem a bit more experienced too. Maybe I can minimize the bones I break this way!”

“Yeah right.” He swiftly dismissed your idea. Groaning at the thought of dealing with what was basically a child in comparison to his experience.

“Please?”

“Well here’s lesson one kid; don’t watch the mouth. Watch the hands.” And the whole thing that tied him to the punching bag unraveled. Damn it, that took you at least an hour to do! Not only that but the man then kicked the thing at you, making you slam backwards unto a door. Yikes.

“Other Peter, seriously—!” And now you have his web all over your mouth. Great.

“Trust me, kid. This’ll all make you a better Spiderman.” Peter—or whoever this rude man was—jumped out of your window and slung a web, ready to leave. But before he could take off, his body suddenly glitched, the distortion rippling across his form, and he crashed downward, slamming through a set of stairs with a loud thud.

“Hey, are you - are you . . . okay?” You asked, wiping off the remnants of his web from your lips. “What’s going on with your body?”

“I don’t think my atoms are all jazzed about being in the wrong dimension.” He turned his body around, facing you and glitching once more. “Look, I’m not looking for a side gig as a Spiderman coach. ‘Sides you already have one! With a not broken nose! And I got a little going lot on in my dimension.”

“I heard a wise guy once saying that with great power comes great—“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence! Don’t do it! I’m sick of it!” He pointed at you with an accusatory finger, his voice trembling with frustration. And then he glitches again. Huh you might have felt bad if he didn’t just kick and webbed you. “Want my advice? Go back to being a regular kid. We already have a bunch of vigilantes in Gotham I’m sure they can work things out.” He spoke as he hung from a platform with one hand.

“I’m part of this now. I can’t just run away! That supercollider could potentially destroy my universe, everything and everyone I know!”

“What did you say?” Suddenly, Peter turned his head to look at you.

“I can’t just run away?”

He started walking towards you, feet sticking to the brick walls like a natural, “Blah blah responsibility! Who cares about that? Where’s this collider?”

“Under Fisk Tower.”

“Goodbye.” He walks back down the walls. Tearing the eye contact he held with you just seconds ago like it was nothing.

“Where are you going?”

“When it runs, I’ll jump in and get back to my life.”

“You can’t let them run it! You don’t even know if you’ll get sent to the correct dimension much less be alive through it all!” You attempt to follow him, not so gracefully sliding down the walls, “We’re supposed to destroy it so it doesn’t run at all and cause — I don’t know — a rupture in the—“

“‘Space time continuum’ That is what they always say. But there’s always a little bit of time before everybody dies and that’s when I do my best work.”

“You’re really gonna go home and leave me, a kid mind you, to figure this out all by myself?”

“No, I’m leaving you with other, frankly speaking, much more responsible vigilantes to fix whatever aftereffects of that thing is.”

“You good with that Spiderman?”

“Yeah.”

You sighed, falling to your knees.

Older Peter looks back at you from the rooftop with the most unamused look he's ever had this whole night. “What are you doing?”

“Using my ‘cute privilege’ to make you feel guilty. Is it working?”

“I hate kids. How could it— No. Look at me. Does it look like it’s working? No, no it’s —Ohohoho. AAAHH! NO! NO! DO NOT LET THEM WIN!”

You muster all your will not to smile or laugh at his mighty attitude falling at the face of your cuteness.

“Alright kid, you win. We don’t have a second to lose. Bring me to your Spiderman mentor you mentioned.”

“Mmm. I love this burger. So delicious. Mmm. One of the best burgers I’ve ever had. In my universe this place closed six years ago. Mmm. I don’t know why. I really don’t. Mmm!” Peter Burnout spoke as he gorged himself in food. Some of the ketchup spraying to yours and OG Peter's face.

A waiter passes by and drops a bill on your table.

“You have money, right? I’m not very liquid right now.”

“I can’t believe you replaced me!” Peter cried as he looked at his older, more . . . rotund counterpart.

“Peter. Sir. Respectfully speaking super healing doesn’t really help with pain from broken bones. If anything I’m just grateful I didn’t give my parents a whole buttload of debt from my injuries.”

“And I was — pfft — really sorry about that!”

“You’re still laughing about it!” You yelled, watching Peter do his best to hide his amusement at your predicament. This man who so calmly took care of a giant wizard and a world ending collider, did not have the chops for acting or lying at all. “Back to the topic at hand people. Any Spiderman tips Other-Peter?”

“Yeah I got plenty.” He said as he licked his fingers clean. Gross.

“Disinfect the mask. You’re gonna wanna use baby powder in the suit, heavy on the joints. You don’t want any chafing, right?”

“That . . . is actually pretty useful.” You nod, bringing out your phone to quickly type down his words. Although you didn’t have a proper suit yet, you always wonder how heroes felt underneath all that tight latex like material. Of course, you’ve attempted cosplays and whatnot but those have always been with cheap, sweat inducing products.

“Speaking of, your suit should be ready in a bit. Do you have a color of preference?” Your Peter brings up.

“Think I’ll go with [Color(s)] and Red. Just to match up with you a little.” You replied, attempting your best version of your Uncle’s cool nonchalant smile as you were gushing in excitement inside. You then looked back to Peter B. “Anything else?”

“Nope, that was everything.”

“And I thought OG Peter was bad.”

“Hey!” Peter clutched his chest as he feigned hurt. You only deadpan at him, a broken heart won’t soothe your broken bones.

“Look up more about Fisk Tower and whoever you fought at the collider.” Peter B. instructed as he grabbed your french fries.

“Kingpin.” You muttered, typing down ‘Fisk Tower’ as per his instruction.

“Him? Must have been tough that one.”

“Alchemax?”

“Great. We have a lead. Now check where it is.”

“Hudson Valley.”

“Other-Peter can teach me to swing on the way there!” You make a ‘thwip’ ‘thwip’ ‘thwip’ motion with your hands, a huge excited smile gracing your features.

And… it’s quickly replaced with a disappointed frown once you three stepped into a bus, “I’m not swinging to the Hudson Valley! Not after a hearty burger breakfast. Keep your arms and legs fresh. You’re gonna thank me later.”

“Still think I’m a bad teacher.” Peter nudges you with his elbow, a stupidly cute grin on his face.

“Yep.” Peter loses his confident smirk real quick, “Not the worst but still bad. To be fair to Peter B. he hasn’t gotten me injured yet.”

“That’s a no on the cape.”

“But it’s my latest Robin merch I wanna have it for my first mission—“

“No.” The two Spidermen stated in sync, though one much more sternly than the other.

OG Peter pinches the bridge of his nose, “Do you know how many times I’ve had to help the Robins with their cape related problems? I’ve told every single one of them that it won’t work, but they just have to follow Batman’s footsteps.”

“So the theory about the Robins being different people really is true huh…” You thought to yourself, knowing that your two mentors could probably hear you even if you mumbled.

Other Peter also pinches the bridge of his (less perfect) nose, “Yeah take that off. It’s disrespectful. Both to the mantle of Spiderman and every Incredibles movie there is.”

You pout but heed their advice. You took off the yellow and black cape, a sniff in grief follows.

“Okay spiderfolks here’s the plan: Step 1, we infiltrate the lab. 2 Find the head scientist’s computer.” Peter B. Parker started laying down the plan. A surprisingly detailed one considering. . . Well the man’s incompetent to say the least. “Step 4: I download the important stuff. Then 5, I grab a bagel from the cafeteria and run.”

“What are we supposed to do?” You asked, already knowing what he’ll answer with but still clinging unto hope.

“Step 6: Lookout. That’s a very important job. Watch and learn kid I’ll quiz you later!”

“I’m totally the better teacher right?” OG Peter asks you. His puppy eyes on display.

“Anything is better than janky, old, broke hobo spider.”

“Fair enou—“ Peter began his reply but was interrupted by you absolutely decimating a boulder with your fist. “That’s new. And good to know. That’ll come in handy in fights annndddd when I know you’re angry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Touché. We goin’ in?”

“Oh we’re definitely going in.”

“Whoa!”

“You alright?”

“Not so much with you on top of me!” You whisper shouted. Seriously, even with your new super strength this man was built like a fridge.

“Let’s go. Other Peter!” You whisper shouted again, crawling through the vents with much more noise than needed. Slamming face first unto the Burnout’s ass.“Ah! Other Peter!”

“What are you doing here?!”

“Kingpin’s here. Just move your butt over.” You moved between his legs and then his arms before shimmying yourself beside him.

“Augh, you’re stepping on my foot. Get back outside!”

“No! I - We can’t just sit and let you get caught — or - or die without doing anything about it. I’m not doing that again!” You felt guilty enough with how fucked up Peter OG was after the fight last time, you’re sure as hell ain’t letting that happen again under your watch.

Peter Burnout just stares at you. Silent and unmoving.

“What?”

“Most people I meet in the workplace try to kill me, so . . . you’re a nice change of pace.”

“You have such a low bar. You need to surround yourself with better people. A proper support system is really important for hero mental health.”

“I’m guessing there’s no more room for me there.” Peter pipes up from behind the two of you.

“No.”

“No.”

“Mr. Fisk. Look at this data. I know you can’t really understand it but these are really good numbers.”

“ . . . Anddd I got the password!”

“Wait wh-“ You looked at him, incredulous. Other Peter can be cool sometimes.

“Um, Mr. Fisk, if we fire again this week, there could be a black hole under Gotham. You see this and this? This is multiple dimensions beginning to crash into each other.”

Peter puppets his hand as she speaks.“This is pretty standard Spider stakes. You get used to it.”

You turned your head to OG Peter for confirmation. That couldn’t be right, right? He was just a kid like you! I mean you never felt any threats to your safety at all during your whole time at Gotham, but then again you lived with a cop dad and an incredibly rich b—

OG Peter nods. He nods! You have a mini anxiety attack inside. You make a mental note to give him more respect in the future. “You get used to hearing threats to your safety and the world? I think you both just need therapy.” Okay but not too much that you don’t get to cash in a quip. What? You were a Spider. It was literally in your blood.

“Watch this.” Peter B. tapped your shoulder several times to get your attention back, “He’s gonna say, “You’ve got 24 hours’”

“You’ve got 24 hours.” He winks at you.

“What this means is that there’s going to be a rupture in the space time continuum!” Dr. Olivia continued.

“Ooh. That’s bad. Actually, everything she said was bad I was lying before.”

“Good to see you admit and communicate your feelings and concerns in a healthy matter, Mr. Other Parker.” You nod in approval. The two of you then move out, one more gracefully than the other.

“Wooh, it was getting a lil tiring just staring at other me’s ass.”

“Just his?” You asked, almost offended that your cake wasn’t mentioned.“Sorry didn’t mean to flirt on the job—“

“No, no, no! Flirting is very much welcomed. I’m single.” OG Peter admitted. His body practically trembling at the awkwardness of his confession.

“Not to be the savior of this awkward atmosphere you kids are creating but a little help here? What are you doing bud?”

“I- I’m stuck! I can’t move!” Not this again.

“Okay, relax your fingers. We don’t have time. Just let go. Be in the moment.”

“I am in the moment! It’s a terrible moment!”

“[Y/N]. Breathe in and out.” OG Peter tried to pull you off but is unable to due to his super strength potentially decimating the octagon shaped lights.

“They’re right there, they’re gonna see you! [Y/N], you gotta unstick. What do you do to relax?”

“You listen to music right? Why don’t you think of a tune that helps you chill out?”

“Relax. Okay, okay, okay.” You close your eyes. Thinking of what you always did when you wanted to relax.

The Robins.

Ah yes, the perfect specimen that is the OG Robin. His musculature that rivaled the Greek sculptures of old. And better yet, his ass? Good lord. You were so glad when he moved on to be Nightwing and shed off that horrid cape. Maybe Spiderman was right, capes were no good.

“Ah . . . Nightwing.” You think back to the pictures you drew of your OC and the vigilante and a finger unsticks. You reminisce of the times you’ve seen them in real life, out at night when your family thought you were asleep and another finger pops off.

You fall once you remember the moment you took a photo with him. “Nightwing. . .”

“Teenagers. Just the worst.” Peter Broken Nose sighed at your hormonal moment.

“Wait, where did [Y/N] go?” Peter Perfect Nose asked, whipping his head around as if you might materialize out of thin air.

“I’m right here.”

“Where? We can’t see you.”

“Pete, I’m literally right in front of you.” You looked down at your hands, stunned to see that you were in fact, invisible, “Can Spider-Man turn invisible in your universe?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ow!” You groaned as you reeled from Peter B’s slap. “What was that for?”

“This is incredible! Some kind of fight or flight thing.”

“What’s that?”

Pop! And you disappeared. Out of sight. But never out of mind.

"This might pinch a little." She then shoved him unto a chair that automatically strapped him on. You were about to gawk at the kind of furniture she kept around. Thankfully OG Peter had his uses and kept you on track.

"Organize your desktop, lady." You sweated at the amount of icons she had on there. Insane behavior this was.

"This'll take too long. Grab everything before she spots us." And he takes to the ceiling.

"Wow, just complete cellular decay. Never seen anything like this!" Dr. Olivia observed cheek cells she swabbed out of Peter Burnout. You slowed down in concern. Glitching must be completely painful. You had to get him back to his dimension as soon as possible.

And so you followed your tutor’s command.

"What are you two doing?" Peter shook his head as he spots a floating PC and monitor, you, slowly moving to the exit.

"Just taking the whole thing!"

"And obviously you've been glitching."

"Oh god, [Y/N] hurry up!" OG Peter whisper shouts.

"You stay on this dimension for too long your body will start to disintegrate. Do you know how painful that would be, Peter Parker?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"You can't imagine. And I for one, can't wait to watch."

You look to Peter above you, a silent pause as if to say, "This lady is actually insane." Like seriously, how can she teach students like you with a mouth like that?

"What did you say your name was?"

She stood up. A relaxed posture to her form. Her hands reached up to remove her octagonal glasses. "Dr. Olivia Octavius."

Holy shi—

[AUTHOR’S NOTE]:

Character: *breathes*

Author: You’re part of the harem now.

(removed those that couldn’t be tagged) TAGLIST IS FULL!!! SO SORRY FOR THE REST!!! I’LL TAG YOU ON A REBLOG!!!

taglist: @yell0wdreams @humanoid606 @holybatflapexpert @girlcrafter408 @imbiafandbored @miwsolovely @manduse @kiyomisan @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl @crystalsbirds @ghestie93 @animelover745-blog @phoenixgurl030 @speckle-meow-meow @mysteriouslyfantasticthief @beta-is-sleeping @day-dreams-posts @paranoiac-666 @ghestie93 @7074lly @yourcutelittlegayfriend @altusha @proffesorbunny @snowwy-night @moonchild-cupcake @the1an0n1y @fuck-the-reaper @siphite @mel-star636 @trickysnack19 @thatone-gayweeb @swagbucksjester @starwritesyanderes @gaozorous-rex-blog @rainnyydaysworld @0-undead-0 @taru-nami @iiiitsfoxie @one-green-frog @victoria1676 @sugarrush-blush @arlynared @ceramic-raven @carnalcrows @victoria1676 @sugarrush-blush @suckitsideways @urminebutidontwantyou @badussyussysstuff

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Screenward Bound

Pairing: Twilight x Reader

Warning(s): Eventual smut and mild yandere behavior

Notes: Written for my 200 Follower Event!

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

You weren't quite sure what compelled you to visit the garage sale on the corner of 4th and Shirestone.

The lot was small and the yellow house inhabiting it was large, leaving very little space for the several tables of stuff in the miniscule front yard, meaning they spilled out onto the bordering sidewalk like an invasion of dusty books and even dustier boxes, which was probably what drew you to the sale in the first place.

"Do you have any Uncle Kracker?" You half-heartedly asked the old lady running the operation, idly thumbing through the CDs.

"Uncle who?" She raised a brow.

"Nevermind," you sighed, giving her a short once over before returning to your unenthusiastic perusal. You lived a few blocks away, tucked in the corner of a nearby cul-de-sac, but living alone was boring and your wallet had been crying to be drained after recovering from your car being in the shop for a few weeks. Besides, it wasn't like you couldn't drop a few dollars to pick up a half-decent CD for the radio, especially since people had a habit of dumping their unwanted shit on the side of the road.

With a huff, you flicked through the last row of CDs, all artists that you were either too old or too young to like. Sure, the Pat Benatar one was calling your name, but you already had a few of her songs on other CDs.

Just as you were about to go home and watch a couple hundred reruns of Family Feud while eating enough ice cream to make your doctor cringe, your eye caught another table, this one filled with an assortment of video games. You weren't the biggest gamer, but you had enough of a collection to put any normal ten-year-old to shame.

"You've got games?" You asked, moving past the one-armed mannequin to assess the selection.

"Do I ever," the old woman shook her head, sending a few snow-swept whisps of hair flying from the confines of her satin headband. "They belonged to my son, but the little rat couldn't keep it that way when he moved out."

You managed a sympathetic chuckle, pulling your coat a bit tighter around yourself. There was a chill in the air, despite it being sunny outside. Your fingers felt a bit numb as you flicked through the cases. Final Fantasy, Digimon, Mario Kart...

You paused as your gaze passed over a very familiar title.

"Woah, Twilight Princess?" You lifted the case, marveling at the find. It was a bit dusty, and the cover art looked like it had seen better, less faded days, but it was nonetheless a great discovery. You had always wanted to play it until school got in the way, but now...

"Oh, yeah," the old woman leaned in a bit too close for comfort, tapping a knobby finger on the plastic. You could smell her flowery perfume and the lingering scent of coffee grounds as she spoke. "This was one of my son's favorites... too bad he could never get it to cooperate."

"How so?" You asked, taking a step to the right to create a bit of distance.

She shrugged. "It worked great at first, but the controls were always a bit glitchy for his tastes. He said it was like something else was trying to take control," her tone turned conspiratorial, faded blue eyes glinting in the sunlight. "but I think he was just making excuses to get a new controller for Christmas."

This time, you laughed loudly. "Yeah, they'll do that," you glanced at the game and back at her. "How much? I've got a ten in my wallet, but I can get more if needed."

The old woman waved a hand, dismissing your words with a smile. "That won't be necessary, I should be paying you for taking this junk off my hands. Take it for free."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she sent you a stern glare and you didn't have the courage to square up with someone who didn't have any personal space awareness and looked like she could break your back over her knee. 'Thank you," you ducked your head respectfully, slipping the game into your bag and beginning the trek home. The sun was beginning to set, and you didn't want to get caught in the dark. You waved, calling over your shoulder: "Have a nice day. Stay warm!"

The woman waved back. "You too, dear! Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

You chuckled, boots crunching on the pavement as you set an easy pace, one hand slipping into your bag to feel over the faded plastic surface of your new game.

If there was any truth to the old lady's words about the game being glitchy, it didn't show.

After booting your ancient Wii-U up, you plugged the game in without hesitation, grinning when it started up with nary a twitch. The title screen looked exactly as it should have, a very familiar song emanating from your dusty speakers. It was perfect, and you almost felt bad taking it for free.

Until you tried to select 'new game' and the screen stalled, fizzling back to the menu as if you hadn't done anything at all. "What the hell?" you muttered, attempting the action once more, only to be booted back to the title screen for the second time. "Oh my god, are you serious?"

You weren't really mad, because your expectations hadn't been that high, but you hadn't expected problems before you even began playing. The 'start' button glimmered promisingly, and you reluctantly selected it.

The screen flashed, and the game started. You gaped, nearly dropping the controller in surprise. "Oh, hell yeah," you grinned, mood lifting slightly at the progress. You had already seen several gameplays, so starting later didn't bother you as much as it should have. "Now we're talking."

Link was distinctly aware of the moment his world inexplicably shifted, falling into the soft hands of another. It was as if they were meant to hold his life in their palms, smooth fingertips caressing the edges of his pixelated consciousness, shrouded by colors and numbers and a thin sheen of fantastical insanity.

There was a voice, lighter than the one of his previous guide: the gamer without sense. Link was forgiving, it was practically in his nature, but he could only take so many instances of the kind of crass, harsh language that man had employed, especially when he addressed the dreaded "chat"--whatever evil that was.

"Let's get classic," the voice spoke, tone heavy with excitement, and the world reformed before his very eyes, swirling with the familiar colors and textures that he remembered, though they seemed... brighter, somehow. It was a new start, Link realized. A new play at the game. A new life to destroy. To shape.

Ordon Spring was exactly as he remembered; a clear, rippling pool, fed by the gentle waterfall in the back of the spring, flanked by thick, verdant brush and preceded by a wonderful, sandy bank. Home, he thought.

"I hope the old lady wasn't right," said the voice, sounding a bit mournful as it caressed the tip of his pointed ear. "I'd hate to have to get rid of you... I've been looking for you for ages."

Link felt his body stiffen, the belts crisscrossing his chest feeling more suffocating that normal. You must have heard about his 'resistance' towards the previous owner, who quite deserved it after attempting to make him toss the village dogs off of various high places and herd the children into frankly dangerous areas. Hylia, he hoped you weren't like that. He didn't think he could handle that again.

"Alright, let's go save a princess," your cheer hung heavy in his mind, and Link allowed himself a small, pixelated smile.

He could work with this.

Dear lord I'm so glad this is finally out! It fought me tooth and nail, but I hope it's still up to standard <33

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

[teslasucks37]

CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), Jerkin it (imaginings of sex), afab!reader (they/them pronouns and referral to them being Non-Binary), alcohol usage, Streamer!Reader, OnlyFans!Reader, Dom!Charlie I suppose, Lengthy descriptions of edits based on real edits I’ve watched 100 times, Cringy use of a song in a fanfic with the lyrics actually typed out but to be cringe is to be free, Named!Reader (Functions more like a Charlie x OC but oh well), Desperate!Charlie, Horny!Charlie, DownBad!Charlie, Despite his horny I made him pretty chill cause he’s definitely chiller irl than his normal online persona

A/N: Part 1/2! This is the fic that began my obsession with the Slimer so to see it partially completed fills me with joy. Also the formatting for the texting lines may be fucked up on desktop cause I made this in Wattpad and I’m posting it on mobile. This is around like 7k words… I think the next one will be shorter hopefully…

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader

Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah) 1/2

Charlie loved his life. Making art and hanging out with his friends was all he could ever ask for. Going out on weekends, planning events, participating in projects, everything was perfect. The single life was treating him well. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't interested in romance anymore, it just hadn't come up much, nor was he actively searching for anything. He wasn’t one to go searching for something like that.

So when Moonzy and Ranboo had sent him a link to an ongoing stream of someone he'd never seen before, he was intrigued to say the least.

—————————————————————————

The Squad ☝️🤓

Ran

@Char dude someone's about to thirst over u on stream 😏

Char

Huh?

Who?

Ran

https://www.twitch.tv/dannyphantom

They're doing a try not to blush challenge and their chat keeps threatening to send in edits of u

Moonz

Omg Danny!

I know them!

We met at a creator thing one time

They're so kind and really funny

—————————————————————————

Charlie stared at the link, his curiosity taking over and causing him to press it. He wasn't disappointed. A freckled feminine face framed with a pastel strawberry-blonde wolf cut and light brown eyes filled the screen. They wore chunky purple skull earrings, a dark red lip, and eyeliner that enhanced their natural eyes so well that he almost felt himself staring.

"Now, sexualizing real people is bad, chat. However, he has not said anything about explicitly disliking it, so I think as long as we're not too horned up on main, it's fine." They prefaced, spreading their arms wide as if to gloat. "So give me your best shot. I still have all three lives."

Charlie glanced at the viewers, noticing they had quite a few, not that it mattered to him much, he was just curious.

They were screen sharing their phone to the stream, opening TikToks that their mods were sending them.

The first one popped up, an old music stream on Ranboo's channel. "The magic of music is that- oh, you're so wet." Charlie's face in the video contorted into a cringe after speaking, before the edit swapped between different parts of the stream.

Danny was wide eyed with a dropped jaw as it finished. They glanced at the camera, before muttering. "Surely not." Replaying it, the shocked look on their face turned to a light grin, before bursting out into a laugh. "You can see the instant regret on his face after saying it too." The swapping of scenes replayed and Danny paused it after the last one. "Is this who you guys were talking about? I'm sorry Slimecicle I was unaware of your game."

Charlie grinned at the apology, watching as they opened another one, covering his mouth with his hand in slight embarrassment as they opened the one where he'd gone skiing with friends.

"I got two feelings, slow and fast. And there's one I like more than the other." The edit swapped to slowed images of him smiling in the gondola, where he'd been told that he looked like a model. The memory made him grin.

Danny leaned into the mic. "Which one tho?" They chuckle as the chat goes crazy, before they clear their throat and lick their dark lips, motioning to their mouth. "I can feel myself salivating as I watch these."

Charlie grinned harder at that, finding it funny that he was affecting them that much.

The next edit was just a recording of him dancing at a club he'd posted on his instagram story. "Aw this one's cute. That's such a vibe. And what a fit."

Charlie bit the inside of his cheek, hearing their approval of his outfit.

"Actually I think going out with him to a club would fix me. Or maybe just going to a club in general." They joked, before moving on.

They opened another, this one from his animal Olympics stream. "Chat, do you have any tips? Do you have any tips at all? I've got a tip..."

"Proof?" Danny leans into the camera, before laughing off the joke. "He must know. There's no way he can't." They rambled about the innuendo.

Charlie snorts, his lips thinning in an attempt to keep his smile contained.

The chat begins going crazy again, spamming to watch what happened after. Danny reads closer, before shouting. "HE SMIRKS AFTER THAT?" They open the next edit frantically, practically the same as the other one, except it shows a small smirk after him speaking. Looking up at the camera dramatically, eyes wide and jaw open once again, they whisper. "So you're a slut."

Charlie snickers, covering his mouth again almost as a way to hide a blush that he feels creeping up his neck.

They open another, this one being filmed during the QSMP awards. Charlie leaned down and licked at the cake on the table with just his mouth in slow motion, before swapping to portions of him speaking and of his mouth covered in cake. His lips and tongue grazed over the treat sensually, possibly imitating what he would look like when eating something else.

Danny's hand jumped up to cover their mouth, saying nothing as the edit ran once, before they had to pause it, slamming their phone down on the desk. Their hands covered their face, before a squeal emitted from behind them. They removed their hands, their face flushed and pink. "Okay chat, you got me... Fuck..." They mumble, picking up their phone again.

Charlie's brows furrowed in thought, almost not believing that his visage could affect someone as gorgeous as them, and considering that Moonzy knew them, it was likely that streaming was the most family friendly portion of their life on the internet.

"DUDE MOVE PLEASE!" Danny replayed the edit, shouting desperately at Quackity, who was in the way of Charlie's mouth for a portion of the clip. "His jaw movements? Fuck." They exclaimed, before pausing the edit on the image of his face covered in cake, his eyes sleepy and satisfied, absolutely fucked out. "That's what I look like after I'm done eating pussy. I wonder what..." They pause, turning to their camera. "Actually, I can't say that." They grin guiltily as chat goes crazy, absolutely catching them lacking.

Charlie pushed his hair back with a hand, suddenly feeling aware of how he looked, even though he was very much alone.

Danny opened the next one where he had been playing a horror game, listening to the story where a character states that their dog could be "one noisy little girl sometimes."

Charlie felt a heat creep up his face as he was very aware what it was about to say.

"R- Really?" Edit Charlie chuckled, stuttering slightly. "I love noisy, noisy girls..."

Danny screamed, before taking a deep breath. "God. One night with him would actually fix me I think."

Charlie nearly choked on his spit at their words, caught completely off guard. It certainly wasn't that he found them unattractive or anything, he was just surprised at their boldness. But he supposed he probably shouldn't be, considering what they were doing for entertainment on their stream.

The next edit was one he hadn't expected, his Duolingo advertisement where he'd drank multiple mysterious liquids. The edit switched between clips, before one specific one caught Danny's eye.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT?" They paused the edit where it was, turning to face the camera. "Chat, something is pulsing. FUCK!" Their face was actively turning red as they processed what they'd just said and analyzed the image.

Charlie licked his lip at the confession, having a mere fleeting thought of what that pulsing would feel like. He shook his head, waving the thought away guiltily as he took in the reason for their words.

He had been pouring the purple drink into his mouth, lines of the liquid streaming down his throat and catching on the collar of his white tshirt. "You can literally see the veins in his neck." Their hand covered their mouth in embarrassment, turning to the chat to berate them. "Yes, I know that's another one. Fuck..."

Others in chat encouraged each other to send more Slimecicle edits, as they had seemed to be working.

With a worried sigh, they opened up another. This one showed Charlie with shorter hair in an episode of Just Roll With It, in eyeliner and a foam bat, or as everyone had called him during that video, Villian. He held the bat out, throwing it over his shoulder and the clips jumped between him grinning evilly with dark eyes.

They grinned, singing along to the song. "P is for pussy, p, u ,s, s, y." The edit finished and they turned to their camera without a second thought. "He can see my p u s- NOPE CAN'T SAY THAT." They tightened their lips, attempting to hide their laughter.

Charlie was fully blushing now, his teeth nipping at his lip absentmindedly.

They opened another, this one an amalgamation of images from him in a suit, to him in swim trunks sitting on a rock, to him in a tank top. It then switched to clips on him from a stream he couldn't remember, one of which was him pushing his thumb against his lip in absent thought.

They stayed silent, rewatching it, then swallowing thickly. Turning to the camera, they spoke plainly. "Sheet gripping, toe curling, back arching-" Danny bursted out into laughter, shaking their head and fanning themself to keep their face a neutral shade, albeit, a struggle. "I can't even get through that bit. I am so sorry." They grinned, moving to open another one.

The edit was a black screen, with captions across the screen of one of Charlie's immersive horror videos. "Okay, good girl. Ah, I know. I know, baby."

Charlie's own words played back at him made him pinch the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.

They replayed it with a slack jaw. "Oh it's massive..." Danny mumbled with wide eyes, the chat going crazy and spamming emojis. "He definitely talks you through it..." They say, almost absentmindedly.

Charlie's pants suddenly tightened, something waking up at the mention of itself. He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable again with the uninvited guest, but Danny's words rang in his head. Massive... Talking through it...

He couldn't believe he was hard just because of their phrasing. But maybe it wasn't just that.

They suddenly turned to the camera, their blush showing through as they processed their words. "I said that out loud." Slamming their hands into their face to cover it, they let out a squeal. "Dammit." They sigh, moving their hands and addressing the camera. "Well, I guess that's the end of the stream. I think I need to be put down."

Charlie closed out of the stream, chuckling to himself, before checking Twitter.

—————————————————————————

Danny @dannyphantom

Today we learned on stream that I am actually incapable of being chill

Most relevant replies ^

Danny @dannyphantom

Wtf do u meant he was watching 😟

—————————————————————————

Charlie grinned, liking their tweet reply. Little did he know, that one action would take his life to whole new heights.

—————————————————————————

The Squad ☝️🤓

Char

How old is Danny?

Moonz

They're 23 I think

Ran

Wait why? 😏

Char

No reason

Moonz

Should we invite them to our thing this weekend 😁

Ran

Omg yes absolutely

What do you think Charlie? 😏

Char

Sure

Moonz

Kk I'll message them <3

—————————————————————————

Knowing that Charlie was coming was eating them alive.

They were nervous to say the least.

The man that they had been caught thirsting over live on stream would be right next to them any minute.

The embarrassment they felt seeing that Charlie had, in fact, been watching during that small section near the end made them flush at the thought. Absolutely mortifying.

Ranboo was sat next to them in front of the vanity in Moonzy's room applying their makeup. They must have felt Danny's nervousness from beside them. "Are you excited to meet Charlie?"

Danny applied their highlighter onto their nose, scrunching it at the question in response. "Yeah, I guess." They downplayed their feelings. "I just don't want it to be awkward or uncomfortable for him."

Ranboo chuckled, shaking their head. "Don't worry, Charlie's really chill. I guarantee he wouldn't come if he was uncomfortable."

They nod silently, closing their highlighter pallet and uncapping their lipstick. That made them feel a little better. Danny tried not to flinch as the doorbell rang, finishing the application and recapping their lipstick.

"Charlie's here!" Moonzy cheered from the kitchen, fixing up the pregame drinks for them, racing to the front door.

Danny stood up with Ranboo to greet him, making sure their makeup was completely ready and everything was in place before seeing him.

Charlie smiled and greeted Moonzy, dropping his bag around the corner as he closed the door behind him.

"It's the sludge man!" Ranboo called out to him from another room, walking toward him with someone lingering in the doorway behind them.

Charlie's body froze, seeing the face of the person he'd binge watched over the span of a few days standing in the doorway in front of him.

His eyes raked down their body, gulping dryly.

Danny wore a light purple cocktail dress, sparkling and covered in mesh that hung just slightly longer at the hem than the base fabric beneath it. The dress was tight and the straps were thin, pressing lightly into the soft skin of their shoulders. It had a slight gathering of fabric in the chest area, making their tits look perky and supple.

The jewelry that decorated their neck and wrists and fingers was silver and beautiful. Their nails were painted black, just like his. That fact made his face feel hot for just a moment.

Their shoes were these light purple velvety platform heels, adorned with silvery chains and charms. He chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering how they could even walk in those. The heel was at least four inches, but it was also wide and blocky, probably making it easier for them.

He glanced back up at their face, spotting their glossy dark berry colored lips pulled slightly into their mouth with their teeth. Their face was powdered and blushed and preened. Glitter and stars and purple dusted their eyes, a dark purple wing elongating them beautifully.

He didn't think they could get anymore pretty.

Oh how wrong he was.

It took Ranboo slapping his shoulder in greeting to shake him from his staring. They were saying something that he didn't hear as they ushered him into the kitchen while Moonzy dipped into the room behind Danny and grabbed a makeup bag before grabbing their hand and pulling them into the kitchen as well.

The four shot glasses lined up on the counter, next to four empty chaser cups, made them grin.

Moonzy handed their makeup bag to Danny before moving to the drinks. "Can you do Charlie's makeup while Ran and I get your drinks ready?"

They nodded and sat at the table, turning to Charlie with an anxious smile.

He returned it with an awkward smile of his own and sat next to them, turning to face them.

Despite their best efforts to hide it, Danny was staring at Charlie just as hard as he had been earlier.

His blue-rimmed glasses were snug on his face, bringing out the blue in his eyes.

His hair was fluffed up, almost long enough to be a mullet, styled up at the ends in slight curls.

Jewelry embellished his fingers and neck, matching the simple stud earrings they hadn't noticed until that moment.

The shirt he wore was a dark green tank top, tight and sculpting to his form, covered by a black mesh tshirt that showed off his large biceps and vascular forearms.

He wore black jeans, cuffed and held up with a studded belt that cinched his waist.

His shoes were those same cute black converse that'd they'd seen him wear in so many videos. At least the amount of videos they were able to watch in a few days.

Danny carefully grabbed his glasses, setting them on the counter next to them. "So, how does it feel being the only binary one here?" They joked in an attempt to break the tension, opening up the bag and sifting through what was in it.

Charlie chuckled to himself. "Just don't spill any water on me, I might short circuit. You know, with being binary and all."

They thinned their lips at the pun to hold back a smile, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a laugh.

"Not my best work." He shrugged with a pained smile. "I'll think of something better later."

Danny let their smile shine through, nodding in agreement.

"What do you guys want to drink?" Moonzy asked, pulling out different bottles of alcohol out of a cabinet while Ranboo grabbed a few bottles of juice.

"Vodka if you have it?" Danny grinned at the two of them.

"Pink Whitney okay?"

"Ugh..." Charlie cringed at the mention of the drink.

Danny gasped sarcastically. "You don't like Pink Whitney?"

He shook his head with a smile. "It tastes like a mix of rubbing alcohol and red 40."

They just shrugged, watching Moonzy pour a shot and slide it over to them before gulping it down with a grin. "More chemicals for me, then."

"Here, Char." Moonzy poured a shot of Bacardi for him and slid it over, then turned to Ranboo to fix them all another drink.

"Char?" Danny leaned in, giggling lightly at the nickname. It was cute, just like him.

He held back an embarrassed smile as he swallowed the shot, clearing his throat after.

They rummaged through "What do you want for makeup?"

He simply pursed his lips and shrugged. "Whatever you want."

Danny raised their brows, glancing at the two other people in the room who had similarly done up faces. "You sure?"

Charlie simply nodded, closing his eyes and submitting his face to you.

Danny grinned, hesitantly grabbing his chin with their fingers.

Charlie's heart leaped into his throat at their touch, knowing he couldn't open his eyes or he would blush at their closeness.

Danny applied eyeliner carefully, swiping across his lids with precision and care. "Do you want a wing?" They asked gently, swiping across his other eyelid.

He just shrugged.

They grinned, putting a small wing on each side.

Moonzy and Ranboo shared a look, before cheers-ing their pre-made glasses and drinking their shots with smug grins.

They all downed more shots, tipsy by the time the Uber showed up to the apartment. The ride was cramped and hazy, but before long the four of them were at their destination.

The club was packed, lights strobing across the ceiling in time with the music.

Danny immediately ran in, already pretty drunk, jumping and dancing and singing along to the music, a classic pop song from the early 2000s.

Charlie shoved through the crowd of people to reach them, the other two following behind him.

"This is so fun!" Danny shouted over the music to Charlie, a wild grin on their face.

Charlie chuckled and leaned closer, his mouth coming closer to their ear so he could shout back audibly. "What?"

They just shook their head with a laugh. "Never mind!"

Moonzy crashed into them, grabbing Danny's hands as the two of them jumped to the music.

Ranboo followed close behind, placing an arm around Charlie.

"They're so fucked." He chuckled, before watching Ranboo pull out a flask from their jacket.

"Doesn't mean we can't get more fucked!" They shouted from behind their mask, handing the flask to Charlie.

He smiled, taking a gulp, before cringing lightly and handing it back. "Is that just vodka?"

Ranboo nodded, lifting up their mask just enough to get to their bottom lip and took a sip as well.

Charlie's eyes drifted to the other two, dancing and whipping their hair around carelessly. He unconsciously thinned his lips in a small smile.

"So, how was meeting your internet crush?" Ranboo asked, causing Charlie's head to snap to them.

"What?" He asked incredulously, a flush coming over his face. "They're not... I don't..." Charlie couldn't seem to find the words in his buzz.

Did he?

"Uh huh, sure..." Ranboo grinned, taking another gulp of their flask. "They were worried that you might be uncomfortable. Cause of the stream."

Charlie turned to Ranboo, who was fully letting the alcohol guide their conversation. "Well... I'm not."

"You should probably act like it then." They joked with a smile, taking another swig and recapping it.

"They're just... It's hard to talk to them. They're so..." Charlie found himself at a loss for words again, glancing at Danny who was swaying their hips to the music. A thought flashed through his mind about what it would be like to be behind them as they ground their ass against his hips. "You know?"

Ranboo scoffed, grabbing Charlie's hand and dragging them over to the other two dancing.

"Charlie!" Danny cheered in a tipsy stupor at his presence, lifting their arms in excitement before wrapping both around his arm.

He grinned, trying not to let his face get red at the press of their half exposed tits around his bicep.

The four of them danced and drank and laughed the night away.

It was about 1 am when they all stumbled into a fairly packed bar, a karaoke bar specifically.

A long couch wrapped around the front of the stage and they practically fell into it.

"Ooh karaoke!" Danny shouted, climbing onto the stage and picking out a song.

Charlie chuckled between Ranboo and Moonzy as they all watched Danny dance to the introduction of the music. The harsh guitar riffs and drum beat echoed through the bar. He'd remembered this song while Ranboo and him had done a pole dancing lesson, enough to recognize it until the lyrics came on screen and they began to sing, surprisingly well for how inebriated they all were.

"We've been here to long, tryna get along, pretending that you're oh so shy~" They leaned into the wireless microphone, taking it off the stand and walking slowly toward the crowd, feeling the music. "I'm a natural man, doing all I can, my temperature is running high~" They swiped a hand down their hips, swiveling to the beat.

Moonzy cheered, the alcohol clearly showing in their volume.

"Cry at night, no one in sight, and we got so much to share~" Danny's hand slid up their waist with the lyrics, and Charlie could have sworn they locked eyes with him for just a moment. "Talkings fine, if you got the time, but I ain't got the time to spare, yeah~"

Apparently the rest of the bar was enjoying the song as much as him, due to their loud cheering at the chorus.

"Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch me there? Where?"

The bar shouted out "yeah"s in sync with the music.

"Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch me there? Where? There? Yeah~" Danny began to clap, encouraging the rest of the bar to clap along with them.

"Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah~" Of course they did, but not because of their love for the song like Danny, most likely because there was a beautiful person singing for them about sex. Not that Charlie didn't also think they were beautiful, so he sung along too. "Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah~"

They must have seen him singing along, because as the song continued, Danny stalked toward the front of the stage where the other three in the group were sitting. Danny bent over the three of them, unaware of the massive amounts of cleavage they were revealing to everyone. "Every girl and boy, needs a little joy, all you do is sit and stare." They seemed to be looking right at him, Danny's pretty brown blown-out pupils practically raking down his body. And suddenly Danny got down on their knees in front of them, running a hand up their body. "Begging on my knees, baby won't you please, run your fingers through my hair~" They did just that for him, threading their own fingers through their hair before shaking it out.

Anyone could have easily mixed what they were doing as just enjoying the song, but Charlie's brain thought for just a second they were calling out to him, begging him to touch them, but a tightness in his pants brought him out of that thought. He looked up to them, but they turned to Moonzy, completely unbothered. Was he just imagining it?

"My my my, whiskey and rye, don't it make you feel so fine?" They sang, holding a hand out to Moonzy. They obviously took it, being hauled up onto the stage. "Right or wrong, don't it turn you on, can't you see we're waiting time? Yeah~"

They sang the chorus, the rest of the bar shouting out their "yeah"s.

"Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch me there? Where?" Danny spun around, back facing Moonzy as they felt them grab their hips. Danny grinned, bending over slightly against them as the bar erupted into cheers. "Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch me there? Where? There? Yeah~"

Charlie glanced over at Ranboo, who was recording the whole thing with a hand over their mask to hide the noises of their drunken laughter, before returning his attention to Danny as they swung their hips back into Moonzy. He almost felt a hint of something in his chest, frustration, jealously? He ignored it and sang and clapped with the rest of the bar. "Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah~"

"Do ya? Do ya?" Danny let the tone of that lyric inflict up, singing almost like a moan, making Charlie shift in his seat.

"Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah~"

Their hands slid down their thighs, past the hem of their dress, and back up again. "Do ya? Do ya?" A grin fell upon their lips, almost as if they knew exactly what they were doing, before slipping into the bridge of the song. The chorus of the rest of the bar's singing and clapping continued. "Do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch me there? Do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch me there? Yeah~ My my my, do you wanna touch me there?" They stood up with Moonzy, dancing around together for the rest of the bridge, head banging and laughing and smiling.

Charlie felt the fondness that had been growing into something bigger, that he simply couldn't fight anymore. Seeing how carefree they were, maybe due to the alcohol, but also just in general, made him want to be more like them. They inspired him to want to live, have fun, take risks.

"Touch me there, you know where, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah~" Finally, they joined with the rest of the bar in singing and clapping for the final lyric. "Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah~" The song ended in a slide out of the guitar. Danny practically dropped the mic, lifting their arms up and shouting in exhilaration. "Woo!"

The bar erupted in applause, older men hooting and hollering and whistling.

Moonzy placed their arm around Danny and walked back down to the couch together, practically collapsing onto it. They giggle, the alcohol finally beginning to slow its effects. Danny was pressed between Moonzy and Charlie.

"You good?" Charlie whispered to Danny.

They nodded wordlessly, eyes closed and content.

He turned to Ranboo, who was snickering as they replayed the footage of the performance on their phone. "Could you take Moonzy and get all of us some water?"

They nodded, reaching behind all of them and tapping Moonzy on the shoulder, before standing up with them and walking toward the bar.

Danny pouted, leaning their head on Charlie's shoulder. "Where are they going? I miss them..."

He turned to them on his shoulder, a corner of his lip twitching up at the pout that they were giving him. "They're getting some water, they'll be back."

Suddenly a man came out from behind the couch, rounding the corner to stand in front of Danny, utterly too close for Charlie's liking.

They lifted their head, addressing the man standing in front of them. "Hiiii~"

The man grinned, a sickly sweet smile. "Hi, sweetheart. Just wanted to come over and see if I could buy you a drink."

"We're good." Charlie spoke for them in their inebriated state, as politely as he could manage. He could tell he was attempting to get them more drunk than they were, which was already a lot.

The man glanced at him for a moment, as if to size him up, before turning back to his original target. "What, is he your boyfriend or something?"

"Pfft..." Danny giggled, glancing at Charlie bashfully, who was not smiling. "Nooo?"

Charlie rolls his eyes. "Look, man, just fuck off." He snaps, harsher than even he meant to say.

The man lifts his hands in defense, backing off. "All yours, bro."

Charlie scrunched his nose in disgust at the way the man spoke about Danny, like they were something to be passed around. He glared at him as he walked away until he was out of sight, turning back to the one sitting next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" They ask, as if they hadn't even seen what happened.

"Okay, we should probably go." He mumbled, glancing around for Ranboo and Moonzy, who were on the way back from the bar with four water cups.

When they had all gotten back to Moonzy and Ranboo's apartment via an Uber, the two owners had promptly fallen asleep in their respective rooms. Charlie practically heaved Danny into the apartment, leading them to the couch.

Danny frowns absentmindedly, falling into a sitting position against the cushions as Charlie takes a seat on the floor in front of them.

Glancing up, he notices their frown. "What's wrong?" He mumbles, attempting to stay quiet and let the other people in the apartment sleep.

Danny frowns deeper, reaching down futilely to unbuckle their heels. "Nothing..."

"It's obviously something if it's bothering you." Charlie takes over, gingerly cupping the back of their heel and unbuckling the first shoe.

They straightened up again, before leaning back further into the cushion. "I had too much to drink. And now you have to take care of me."

Charlie just pursed his lips, taking the first shoe off and moving to unbuckle the other. "I don't mind. As long as you had fun." He smiles to himself, before looking back up at Danny. Their eyes were trained on him as he slipped off their other heel.

Danny's eyes were heavy with sleep, drunkness, and maybe something else. "Did you have fun?" They asked softly, as if his answer was life or death. Like it really did matter to them what his response would be, like it was the only thing that mattered in the entire world.

Maybe it was just his own brain still buzzing from the alcohol, but he almost felt bashful at their question, like it was the first time all night he'd really felt observed by them, like how he'd shamelessly watched them all night. Like he was in the warm glow of a spotlight with butterflies in his stomach. He simply nodded, his hands folded in his lap.

Danny smiled, looking gorgeous above him, despite their disheveled hair and faded lipstick. Their hand lifted to cup his cheek, and Charlie felt himself almost melt into their touch, before their fingers pushed a stray piece of his hair behind his ear and then pulled away.

Charlie's neck nearly craned to chase their touch, but he refrained. His face felt suddenly softer, the feeling of their nails lightly trailing his skin for just a moment making his whole body radiate warmth.

"Good." Danny mumbled, kicking their feet up slowly onto the couch as Charlie took off his own shoes and attempted to regain his composure. They passed him the throw pillow near their feet and one of the blankets thrown over the back of the couch, before flattening the other throw pillow beneath their head. They pulled the other blanket to their chin as they watched Charlie set up his own makeshift bed. "I would feel bad... If it was awkward for you."

"Why would it be awkward?" He asked without thinking, before remembering.

"Because of the stream I did."

Charlie paused his movements in thought, before shaking his head and continuing. "I didn't mind, really. I thought it was..." He paused again, his breath bated and shy. "I thought you were cute..."

His heart pumped fast at the confession.

He couldn't believe he'd just said that.

But there was no response.

His mind went wild with the worst thoughts.

Did they think he was creepy? Did he go too far? He shouldn't have said anything.

Charlie turned to apologize and correct himself, but when he turned he saw Danny passed out on the couch.

Their mouth was open, a bit of drool beginning to form at the corner. Steady breaths inhaled, before light snores exhaled. They looked adorable.

Charlie bit back a smile at the sight.

Maybe they didn't hear.

Maybe his dignity was preserved.

He simply tucked himself in and followed into sleep.

But of course, cause god hates him, he couldn't stay asleep for long.

He was having a bit of a... Problem.

He stumbled to the bathroom, staring down in contempt at the bulge in his pants.

With a sigh, he leaned against the counter and took out his phone, simply waiting for it to go away.

He swiped on instagram, until an account popped up.

Danny.

Followed by Moonzy and Ranboo.

He smiled lightly, clicking the follow button.

Scrolling through their posts helped him feel better, maybe not less hard, but better. They'd posted slice of life photos when they were out with friends, cosplays, streaming announcements in their highlights, and oh god...

They had Only Fans teasers.

That did not help his boner at all.

They weren't too explicit, just pictures of Danny in slightly revealing clothes.

One had them in a grey sweater like material that was practically a turtleneck dress with a large cut out in the middle exposing their upper abdomen and the very bottoms of the curves of their tits. He swiped on the photo, the next showing how the back was also cut out, leaving only the material that dipped teasingly low. The curvy globes of their ass were barely covered by the fabric.

Charlie's breath deepened as his hips involuntarily shifted to try and be more comfortable, but he could only be so comfortable in jeans. He decided to unbutton them with his free hand, sighing at the restrictions around his crotch being loosened.

He swiped to a different post, just out of curiosity, and maybe a little bit of hunger, courtesy of the head he wasn't thinking with at the moment.

They were now clad in a cow print turtleneck dress, another soft material that he involuntarily imagined the texture of beneath his hands. Thigh highs with the same cow print covered the skin just inches beneath the hem on the dress. The photo was complete with little cow ears and horns on a headband, their tongue sticking out in an aggressive manner, their nosed scrunched cutely. He swiped with reckless abandon, fully accepting that he was looking just to look. The back was similar to the other picture, with that same tantalizing drop of fabric to their rear. Their thighs were pressed together, the meat of them just barely obscuring what was between.

He wanted to see what was between so bad.

"Fuck..." Charlie sighed quietly, reaching a hand into his boxer briefs and pulling out what had been bothering him for practically the whole night.

His cock was hard, really hard, leaking pre-cum out the pink and swollen tip. The lack of stimulation was clear from how it twitched, practically fucking begging to be touched.

Charlie couldn't stop himself, it was like a reflex. He grabbed the head of his cock, swiping the precum down and around the head, followed by a small jolt of relief. Not at the kind of intensity he needed, but it was something.

He swiped to another picture. They donned a beautiful red dress, the fabric looking almost velvety. Rhinestones sprinkled the front and back, Danny's arms were crossed with their palms on their waist, pressing their tits together slightly, practically spilling out of the straps around the sides and the skinny triangles covering the peaks of both. Gold chains draped between the mounds and around their waist, adorning the skin peeking through the hip windows built into the dress.

They looked so fucking gorgeous.

Charlie's head fell back lightly as he stroked himself once, then again.

He just couldn't help himself.

How could he when they were right there?

He'd barely managed to restrain himself from jacking off to clips of Danny's stream over the past few days, watching them make themself flush and spout out all kinds of naughty things at just the sight of him.

Thoughts of their stream rushed through his clouded mind. How they'd jokingly asked for proof of his tip, how they said they were pulsing for him, stating that he was massive, especially when they guessed that he would talk them through it.

God, he wanted to talk them through it, whisper in their ear while he touched them. If they'd let him Charlie would drop to his knees and get them off in an instant.

His cock twitched at the thought. Stroking faster, he opened another photo, this one of Danny in a black dress, the fabric beginning at their neck, around their torso, then splitting at their hips and flowing down their front and back in two separate sheets. They wore two black leather garter belts, one on each thigh, studded and connected to smaller ones right below them. His eyes locked onto the strings of some kind of black thong seated just below where the dress split off. He swiped, his heartbeat accelerating as they sat with spread legs out for the camera, the front sheet of fabric barely covering the apex of their thighs. And even more, the strings of the panties were gone. Danny was completely bare beneath the dress.

The thought drove him wild.

What he would give to lift the fabric up and slide his cock in, making them cum over and over and over again on it.

Making them scream his name while they shook uncontrollably and kissed him and praised him.

Charlie felt a familiar tightness in his groin, but images wouldn't stop cycling through his head from tonight.

Danny in that perfect little dress, the way they looked at him when he helped take their shoes off, the way their hips swayed to the music in the club, the way they looked at him when they sang that fucking song. They were begging for him to touch them, touch their perfect body in front of all of those people, everyone who wanted them, but couldn't have them.

Cause Danny wanted him.

His eyes fluttered shut as his cock spurted ropes of hot cum all over his hand, coating it proficiently.

Charlie panted, thanking gravity that none of it got on the floor or his clothes.

There would be no way to explain that mess.

He stood, washing his hand off with a grimace, the thick stickiness not receding until two rounds of scrubbing with soap.

Then the post-nut clarity began to hit.

Jesus Christ why did he do that?

He couldn't fucking believe himself. That was such an invasion of privacy. He was just like those weird gooner incels online. Well, maybe not just like them. They could never appreciate Danny like he did.

It's not like he went on their Only Fans or something.

Charlie paused.

They were probably naked on their Only Fans. His face felt hot, causing him to turn off his phone immediately.

Absolutely not, that would be an actual invasion of privacy.

But if he did pay for the service...

No.

He shouldn't even be thinking about them like that. It was downright disrespectful.

Maybe he was still a little drunk.

Maybe he just needed to go back to sleep to take his mind off it all.

And so he stumbled back out of the bathroom.

But nothing made the burning in his cheeks go away.

[tam--lin]

Books For People Who Liked Leverage and White Collar

I've always been a big non-fiction reader, and I'm particularly fond of frauds, scams, and white collar crime. Ever since I finished White Collar last year, I've been meaning to pull together a collection of related books. As you'll quickly learn if you dive into this list, the truth is often wilder than fiction. (A lot more FBI agents yelling FUCK YOU!! at each other across board room tables, for one thing.)

IMPORTANT! Please don't pirate! It hurts authors. Most of these books are available through your local library, including as e-books. You can help local bookstores by purchasing through bookshop dot org, or as audiobooks through libro dot fm.

Category #1: Stand Outs and All-Time Favorites

Bad Blood reads like a thriller, and I genuinely mean that. It's gripping, it's incredible reporting, it's just a jaw-dropping story. Theranos was one of the biggest corporate frauds in history, and Carreyrou masterfully details its rise and fall. Not to spoil what could be considered the book's big twist, but there's no one better to write it, either.

Empire of Pain is also masterful reporting by a well-regarded journalist, but it leans more family drama than thriller. This details the personal machinations that helped create the opioid crisis in America. [Leverage: Redemption 1x1, which IIRC was actually written before the Met removed the Sackler name from their exhibits. Also goes well paired with The Fall Of The House Of Usher.]

Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks is a collection of Radden Keefe's writing for The New Yorker. It explores wine crime (Leverage 5x13 and White Collar 1x12 directly draw from this), a passionate defense attorney, whistle blowers, hit men, and international organized crime. While I recommend the book, much of this content is available for free at newyorker dot com / contributors / patrick-radden-keefe (you can use paywallreader dot com to legally get around the paywall).

Number Go Up moves quickly and is full of fascinating characters and unexpected celebrity cameos. You've got your cringe rappers, your coke-on-a-yacht billionaires, your Harry Potter rationalist poly cult. Seriously, I wish I could read this again for the first time.

Category #2: Odd, "Cozy", Strange

The Feather Thief covers a unique crime by a 20-year-old obsessed with fly fishing.

The Art Thief tells the story of Stéphane Bréitwieser, the most prolific art thief of all time. He stole during the day, from museums full of people, again and again - over 200 times, in fact. He kept his treasures in his bedroom. A fascinating portrait of a strange criminal.

Category #3: Grab Bag

Including stuff that's more adjacent to the topic but still of interest, books I got part way through, and books that are still on my TBR.

Chickenshit Club I'm part way through and enjoying, Never Split the Difference is GREAT and includes lots of true hostage negotiating stories, Fancy Bear Goes Phishing I couldn't get into but that could be because I don't need two pages of text explaining what a string is. (I'm planning on giving it another go.)

Anansi's Gold and The Corporation are both on my TBR; Con Queen of Hollywood is a riveting con story for the first half but gets a little bogged down in biography in the second half.

The Confidence Game is on my TBR and is a classic of the genre, Molly's Game is one of my partner's favorite books, and The Gospel Of Wellness does a great job at exposing how scammy the entire wellness industry is.

Genuinely there are SO many more books I could have included, and I might do another post at some point. Some books were left off intentionally, because I didn't care for them or because another book did it better. Some books were left off simply because my white collar/fraud/cons TBR is extensive and I can't include everything! And some were left off simply because I don't know about them. I'm always looking for quality non-fiction - please do share any related recommendations in the notes.

[tinydumpsterdiver]

So I've been thinking about Axle's early past a bit.. uhhh

Yeah here are a few doodles and a sketch. Along with a small bit of Axle's early childhood life. I got carried away

Just some simple doodles of Axle's childhood. He technically grew up in a lab although he wasn't born in captivity. Most of his early childhood was doing puzzles or tests, lots of observation as well.

His development is similar to that of a human in terms of brain growth and physical form. He grows at about the same rate as a human just on a far smaller scale.

For the most part in his younger years he mostly did cognitive testing and development. They mostly used simple tests, and some general animal psychology experiments. Such as seeing what he did for fun, for food, and some logical reasoning.

The odd time the scientists still would do a surgery or two on a young Axle, but it wasn't the norm at that time.

However as time went on they began to do more invasive tests.

Axle had always liked the scientists growing up, as he was younger he'd seen them as a sort of family, having favorites and having preferred caretakers. But at the age of about 12 years old even the nicer caretakers had begun to grow sour.

People were being more careful around him, using gloves more often, constricting his movements more often, and other things of the sort which Axle noticed.

The experiments eventually began to get more invasive, such as when he was 13 he had his first brain vivisection specifically. It was a procedure to place wires into his brain to do more invasive tests on his nervous system.

He tried asking more questions, which quickly he learned would get him nowhere. Soon even the nice humans he'd barely see anymore or they would just leave all together. It was at the age of 13 he'd decided he didn't like the humans or how they kept him captured. He didn't know what else there could be, but he knew from the little bits and pieces he was able to listen to that there had to be more than the lab.

At the age of 14 Axle was being treated more like the mice he'd been raised with than a person that the scientists would talk to passively. Axle only grew more resentful as the months went on and the rotation of scientists got more harsh.

At 16 he was being treated as though he was completely feral. He refused to cooperate with the humans but they would refuse to let him feel like he had any form of control over the situation whatsoever.

Ok so this was just a doodle that got out of hand and colored. It's not great but it's the best I got rn. I'm pretty stressed out lol

Anyways. Axle had a pretty traumatic upbringing, but it did teach him to never trust humans which was probably the best thing he could have learned for when he did eventually escape one day.

He did have his mother with him at one point in captivity, but one day she disappeared and he never really figured out what happened to her. Current Day Axle likes to think she managed to escape one day and was free somewhere.

Axle after that day grew up around mice, usually a circulation of mice that were young enough not to be a danger to Axle. But this really took a toll on him when eventually all his mice friends would get taken away and he'd have to get attached to new friends all over again.

Sometimes the scientists would have him do experiments alongside grown mice, sometimes he would remember them but usually not. Under normal circumstances the mice were never aggressive with Axle, but were usually more curious about him.

Ok my unorganized ranting is over. I'm not sure. I think it's fun to share my silly cringe lore.

Thanks for reading it! Or thanks for just looking at the art ^^

Sending positive vibes y'all

Till next time

[cfangi-art]

UPDATE 3- This year and next year’s art resolution

1)Transformers sketches

40% off the top of my head, 60% looking at a reference for 5 seconds before winging it… I tried I really did 🙇 (as always words further down)

^^Okay who do we have here?: Shockwave, Knockout, Jazz, Blaster, Two, count ‘em, TWO different Soundwaves, Arcee, Cliffjumper, Bumblebee, Windblade, STARSCREAM, Crosshairs, a small Thundercracker and lastly Nitro Zeus (??kinda??)

2) The explanation:

-that no one asked for…

I mentioned in a previous post that I was working on a ‘project’, this is it. One of my art resolutions this year was to start learning/improving how I drew mecha/robots for one of my ocs. Well I started all late 🧍so now it’s next year’s resolution too

I’m only sticking to Transformers for now since to my caveman brain it just seems like the easier option. it’s probably not. I guess if I get good at drawing something like Optimus Prime then I can definitely perfect my oc… right?

Transformers, Gundums, Voltron, and Pacific Rim have been some (amongst thousands) of my hyper fixations since forever though I only ever drew Transformers, Sonic, and Power Ranger fan art as a kid, not surprisingly they SUCKED 😭 regardless I decided to take out some of my old attempts -that weren’t destroyed- and redraw them in my current style

Which I may or may not post, they’re kinda cringe

Do I understand Cybertronian anatomy? No. Do I feel confident enough to draw them? No. Am I open to request? Sure why not. If you’ve actually read this (for one, thank you) feel free to send me your favorite TF character and I’ll see what I can do. No promises tho

Byee~ ✌️(>ω^)〜✨

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH1

It is time for @invisobang ! I wrote a fic and the wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[Next]

Chapter One - The Accident

The metal panel came free with a few plinks of screws onto the floor making Danny cringe. He knew he’d be the one scrounging around on the floor looking for them later. His Dad grinned not at all phased by the extra work he was creating. Danny leaned over to look and was fairly certain on catching sight of the tangled mess of cables that this was his Dad’s work.

“Alright Danno, I need you to get your small hands in there. Diagnostics say some of the wires didn’t get plugged in right,” he explained with a little chuckle at his own mistake, “I’d fix it but now the paneling’s on I don’t fit.”

“Got it, know which ones?” Danny asked, eyeing the mess.

“Nope, some of the red ones? Some of the greens too. Just give them all a little extra push!” His Dad said before bounding off out of the portal frame to work on some other part of it.

Danny sighed and rolled his eyes, typical Dad. He used a finger to pull aside a bunch of wires to see the circuit board behind but the wires pulled others and obscured it. He huffed a little, the visor of his white hazmat suit fogging up a little before it faded. He was going to have to fix the cable management if he was going to make any progress.

As Danny picked his way through the tangled chaos of unlabeled cables he couldn’t help but be reminded of a spider web. Every few moves of his hand he had to untangle himself Just to get another wire out of the tangle and neatly with the others of its colour. He had to hope that the colours had some kind of system. Even if they didn’t at least they’d be able to see the board.

“Jack? Did you change this setting?” he heard from out in the lab.

“Um nope, well maybe,” he could almost hear his Dad’s awkward shrug.

There was the clacking of keys, “that’s a bit odd.”

“Huummm, maybe if we change that bit. That should get it, right?”

A spark darted from the connected wire as he disconnected it from the board and he swiftly pulled back his hands. Even with the hazmat he wasn't going to risk it. It might not be the vibrant colours of his parents’ ones but that didn’t mean it was more professionally made. His Dad made each of them by hand. Said they needed a bit more oomph to deal with ectoplasm. He wasn’t sure how effective it would really be.

“Mom? The powers on!” He called out to them.

It wasn't meant to be. His dad had said it was off. Either he forgot, not impossible. Or something was wrong with the power system. If that was the case they'd have to shut it all down. It would be months more work before they'd be ready. Danny couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at that thought. He didn’t believe it would really work but he wanted it to. Wanted it for his parents. Wanted it for the hours he'd poured in as a way to learn engineering.

“What? No it’s not,” his Mom replied confused, “none of the systems are reporting that.”

“I unplugged it, I definitely unplugged it. Where’s that cable?” His Dad insisted.

“What the… Danny! Move now!” His Mom yelled.

Danny startled and backed away from the panel. There was a high pitched whine building behind him. He scrambled forward, his heavy bulky hazmat boots catching on themselves and every cable. There was a loud hiss and the safety shield started to descend. The power wasn’t just on, the portal was activating.

“Shit, no, not yet,” his Mom cursed, her hands practically slamming across the keys, “Jack pull the emergency breaker!”

“On it!”

He stumbled trying to crouch enough to pass under the descending shield. His head bounced in the helmet as he hit the floor. He winced and his head spun. It took a moment too long for him to get his bearings and start moving. He crawled as fast as he could, racing against the descending shield. He pulled back his hand just as the shield descended, the tips of his glove caught between reinforced glass and the metal tiled floor. He pulled it free with some effort, the fingers tearing.

“Breaker’s not stopping it Mads!”

Danny pulled himself up leaning against the glass. He flinched back as his Dad slammed the Fenton Anti Creep Stick into the reinforced glass with an echoing bang. His Mom was at the console frantically trying to get control of the machine.

He could feel a tingle as the charge in the air increased, his hair standing on end. An ominous warning that the Hazmat was no longer sealed. Electric sparks darted from metal surface to metal surface. The growing green glow that was building behind him reflected in the safety glass that trapped him there. The air grew a strange hot cold. There was a crackle like lightning and then he was engulfed in burning cold green.

[Next]

[looney-mooney-studio]

Linda Flynn Fletcher/Linda Cipher throughout the years! Full image ID under the cut cuz there’s a lot of text to transcribe lol

New Astrophysicist: Eager to start her new career! Wants to prove herself after Lindana’s legacy. Craves fame on her own terms. Willing to do WHATEVER it takes! Silver jewelry. Silver star shaped earrings. Purple headband. Colorful striped shirt. Purple choker necklace. White Labcoat. Bell bottom blue jeans. Shoulder length red hair.

Dating Bill: more confident in self and career. Starts dressing more professionally, without sacrificing personal sense of style. Starts wearing gold jewelry. Yellow button up shirt. Gold triangular earrings. Yellow headband. Black choker necklace. Blue jeans. White lab coat.

Possessed by Bill: PARTY GIRL! Colleagues just think this is what she’s like when she’s drunk. Acts kinda slutty? MESSY HAIR (Bill’s not used to vessels with so much hair, so he keeps messing with it.) lineart different - more Gravity Falls style than Dwampyverse style. Doesn’t know how to wear a shirt. Lost a shoe - Linda will have to find it later. Mostly same as last design, but without the labcoat.

Pregnant: hair grows faster during pregnancy. Shows off her belly! Patches clothes - Bill starts breaking things, but she blames their body’s hormones. Design is same for both pregnancies because she just reuses her old pregnancy clothes. Same “dating bill” design, but with longer hair, a crop top, and a green patch on her blue jeans. Gold wedding ring.

Full Bill Cultist: Dresses more and more like Ford. Invests in hippy stuff. More obvious about being with Bill. Colleagues think she’s starting to go a little bit nuts, but can’t argue with her results. Red turtleneck. Tan jacket. Shoulder pads. Black slacks. Brown sneakers. Gold triangle earrings. Gold headband. Gold beaded necklace with a big triangular bill cipher charm. Gold wedding ring.

Post Breakup: doesn’t take care of self. Ironically looks more like if Bill were possessing her. Still wears yellow, but it’s washed-out. Her relationship with Bill is broken, but still fresh. Tired, trying not to sleep a whole lot. Caffeine addict. Messy hair. Green headband. Green flannel jacket. Yellow t-shirt. Tan cargo pants. Green sneakers. TIRED.

Dating Lawrence: letting herself be a little bit cringe. Having fun! Reminding herself of things she enjoys outside of what she did with Bill, like music and fiber arts. No yellow OR red. She’s being DIFFERENT for a little while. Pony tail. Black scrunchy. Teal sweater dress. White belt.black leggings. Purple leg warmers. Black sneakers. Clunky upside down teal teardrop earrings.

Now: wears yellow again, but on her OWN terms now. Isn’t afraid anymore. Trying out new things! Opted out of rings with Lawrence. They have antique lockets instead. Whole family has them, including a custom-made locket for Perry. Takes a lot of classes. Content to be a stay-at-home mom with a lot of hobbies. Her career isn’t important to her anymore, she doesn’t even have one. She’s FREE. White short sleeved button up shirt. Yellow sweater vest. Green khakis. Yellow orthopedic shoes. Peach colored headband. Teal pearl earrings.

[khloxxy]

hello! i hope you're doing well ^_^ i just wanna ask about your favorite headcanon of rus, cana and ame (if you're up for it, no pressure, i wanna see what kumajirou looks like in your style)

i like your art! don't mind me if you see me liking your posts hehe

Hello (^_^) thank you... Your art is very beautiful I'm honoured... Sorry if this is kinda late(?) my brain works best when it's the middle of the night. I wrote this in my notes at like 3am...

My headcanons are really messy and subject to change so keep that in mind 🙏 Gonna put them under a read more cause they're pretty long and I rambled on and on.. Got carried away sorry!! Also it's kind of cringe at some points but that's okay. To be cringe is to be free.

---

Rus: My beloved... He's cute, yes, but also very creepy. (I love a creepy rus) I see him as this character that's always looming over everyone, always watching... He likes how docile and obedient Cana is, and with Ame... well... He likes the challenge.

He likes the arts... And I believe he's an incredible poet and dancer. I like to think that Rus spends his free time writing hauntingly beautiful poetry in a journal of his since there are a lot of beautifully written Russian literature... That journal could also probably work as his diary too because why not. He also does ballet and figure skating, and Ame probably calls him gay for it, this irks Rus but that's okay. He'll rip the tongue out of that American's loud mouth one day. He just has to be patient. (that last part is cringe but my rusame brain told me to write it)

For music I think he'd like classical (tchaikovsky) and metal. I also think he'd visit old abandoned buildings just to see the ruins. Maybe even appreciate the architecture? He finds beauty in the decay.

His relationship with Ame is a game of chess (Rus loves chess, so he loves whatever he has going on with Ame), each move calculated, each interaction charged with unspoken tension (they never reveal their love for eachother... the only time that would happen is probably in life-or-death situations but with their immortality that's practically impossible – actually you know what?? Scratch that. No confessions... Unless drunk or under the influence of something maybe.) With Cana, it's more like a delicate dance, appreciating his gentleness but always aware of the fragile nature of their bond – he's aware that cana and him are only really bound together through Ame.

---

Cana: Neglected boy (eng and fra both coddled Ame more) ... Envious of Ame but still loves him – he's frustrated. He knows so much about Ame but Ame knows nothing about him. Ame doesn't care enough to bother learning about him. It's unfair. I believe he actually has Kumajirou for comfort... But even his pet bear doesn't remember him (to be fair, he doesn't remember Kumajirou's name either.)

For music taste, I think he'd like shoegaze actually... it's calm yet messy-ish and it matches well with his vibe. (Totally not just projecting my music taste onto him)

He dislikes being in the shadow of his brother but he does appreciate his brother sticking up for him. Doing all the talking for him. He doesn't like new people usually. They never understand. (Never understand his freak.. yes Cana has a hidden freak to me.)

He genuinely gets along with rus. They're more similar than they initially thought after all. I mean they're both shy (to a point), both live in cold climates, both have weird relationships with ame... And both are connected through Ame... Rus and Cana both recognize that they are intrinsically tied together only through Ame.

---

Ame: Insufferable (put him in the eternal torture chamber!) Even so, Rus and Cana are still drawn to him like moths to a flame. Type of guy to test the limits of his immortal body... I wish Hima did more with their immortality because that is such an interesting subject. Probably has more DUIs than you can count. Has crashed a plane on purpose. No way you can be the United States of America and not end up crazy.

For the Cold War... Ame was genuinely disappointed when the USSR fell, he was like "well... what now...??" Because for several decades he had a villain to match his hero... But now that Rus fell off... what now? He misses the thrill and rush of it (he's a thrill-seeker... Type 3 fun typa guy). Also, he knew nothing would actually happen anyhow because of M.A.D (Mutually Assured Destruction) no one would actually drop bombs.. right? (they had a few close calls). Maybe the cold war was just one big edging session... (Lmfao sorry had to say it)

Okay adding to the above thing but the paragraph got too long for me. Another reason why Ame thrived in the cold war is that Rus had his singular attention on him. Just him. He loved that. He loved having all of someone's attention. He can't help it. He's just a girl! 🎀 (Kinda yandere-ish vibes but I fw yandere ideas so... Actually all 3 of them could be yandere in the right mindset.)

To me, Ame is the kind of person who thrives on adrenaline, always seeking the next big rush – he's also a huge sucker for attention. That's why he does the crazy things he does. For attention. After all, what is he without attention?

With Cana, well this is a me thing but I like to think that Ame is actually quite clingy with his brother.. He's one of the only people Ame allows to touch him.. Ame's not a very touchy person. Ame does crave genuine connections and Cana is one of the few that can offer that. They're each other's one and only brother after all. That has to mean something.

His relationship with Cana? Complicated... They seem good from the outside but Ame barely knows anything about his brother. Cana could say a million things about Ame but Ame could only respond with maybe a few hundred or so things about Cana – heck, maybe even that would be stretching it. Although, Ame does care for his brother in his own way, truly.

Last little thing I'd like to add: Ame has a collection of vintage stuff. I don't know why. Vintage things just scream American to me. Like old comic books..

[giglio-nero-e-bianco]

TELL ME YOUR SECRET TO HAVING GOOD ART AND AU . ALL I CAN THINK ITS DELICIOUS GIVE ME 14 OF THEM RN.

The secret: I've been drawing since I was like 6 lol, that's a good 18 years

I've been a fan of the show since I was little, I remember being 8 when they announced Poof and I was losing my mind over it and I never missed an episode after that... Until season 8 when I just lost track of it

The first drawing I made of the show was in an old notebook that's long been thrown out but the drawing looked something like this

And now here I am, making drawings of them again... BUT GAYER

And for AUs? I just have 1 thing to say: Don't be afraid of being cringe with them, you may be cringe, but you'll be free

[tmntstorycomp]

A deep sigh.

That’s the only sound that escaped his lips after what felt like years sitting at this desk. His hands shook. He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut tight until the cracks of light through his eyelids blurred into a messy blur. New moisture stung his dry eyes, demanding that he take a rest from everything. 

But resting had never really been his strong suit. The family that he ran with, sitting still wasn’t really all it cracked up to be. Sometimes, he swore his father was still bouncing off the walls. And to be honest, he wasn’t all that far behind him. 

But now, he just felt… Tired.

Massy slowly opened his eyes, glancing over at the water bottle on his desk. It wasn’t quite empty. He would argue there was enough in the bottom to keep him hydrated for a few more hours, but it couldn’t hurt to stretch his legs. Slowly, feeling the creak in his young bones, he pushed himself up out of his chair. The wheels squeaked some, Massy cringed as the sound seemed to echo through his room. 

Massy looked back down at the chair, rubbing his lip before he snagged the bottle. Decorating the bottle were various stickers– His father had gotten into making them more, said he felt like he could make a small profit off his art. His uncle Donnie said it was unnecessary, they had all the money they could need with their tech company that was developed. 

Massy’s father was always a free spirit.

Which brought him back to identity. This past year has been a battle of identity, searching for anything that could be latched onto. He thought he had found it, truly. He was the child of Michelangelo and Taina, two mutants who loved each other once upon a time. Two mutants who loved him, each in their own ways. And such things were accepted by Massy. Massy was part of the Hamato Clan, the youngest member- No, the second youngest. He had a cousin now.

Casey Jones. Not to be confused with Cassandra Jones, or with C.J. Jones. There were too many Casey’s in his life, it was confusing enough. However, Casey Jones Junior (the baby) was born just a few months ago. He didn’t live in the lair, it shouldn’t affect him as much as it did. But Massy wasn’t the baby anymore. 

But, he was still a child. Technically. His birthday had passed, he was fifteen years old. How much of a baby can he be? 

So, he knew who he was. Knew who he was in respect to his family, at least. Even without his mother, he knew who he was. 

Massy was a writer. He loved stories, he loved writing, and he loved reading. These were things that he loved without a shadow of a doubt. These were pieces of his identity that were so etched into the walls of his heart that they changed his energy forever. 

If that were the case, if he were truly a writer…

Why was it so hard now?

Massy scoffed as he turned on his heel and made his way out of his bedroom, the open document on his laptop only having a measly paragraph on display. His hand pushed through the small amount of hair that he had-

Yeah, that was another change over the past year. Hair. His father told him that if he had his genes, there was a good chance that he would grow hair just like him. Massy knew it was coming, but he just didn’t expect it to take a.. Toll. 

But appearance had just as much to do with your identity as your heart did, did it not?

Massy walked into the kitchen, pausing as he saw the timer on the stove quietly ticking away. He leaned down to peek into the oven and saw what appeared to be a lasagna baking inside. He blinked slowly, what time was it?

Massy turned and looked at the clock on the wall, the one that read 6:43 p.m…

When did it get so late?

Or.. Early?

Massy didn’t know how long he had been awake for, but he walked over to the coffee maker that was far too high tech for this kitchen. He slowly set his water bottle down on the counter and pulled a mug down from the cabinet. Massy set it in the machine before pressing a few buttons, looking over the machine with a small sigh. The machine hissed at him before pouring the coffee into the mug. Perfect mix of coffee and creamer, a teenage dream.

“You know, you’re still too young for a caffeine addiction,”

Massy turned slowly to catch his father walking into the kitchen. Mikey walked over, his hand coming up to the back of Massy’s head to angle his head downwards. He planted a kiss on the crown of Massy’s head, smiling as Massy groaned in response.

“I’m just tired, I don’t want to fall asleep before dinner… That is dinner, right?” Massy asked as he gestured his hand towards the oven. Mikey nodded his head, taking a step back so he could pull the oven door open. 

“Yeah, I got a bit of a late start. You, however,” Mikey poked the end of Massy’s snout with his finger, “Should take a nap instead of consuming more caffeine. Caffeine can only sustain you for so long, sleep will help you re-energize your brain,”

Massy shrugged his shoulders as he went to grab the mug of coffee, only for Mikey’s hand to lightly swat his. 

“But dad, I’m trying to write-”

“How long have you been trying?” Mikey cut him off, and the question caused him to take pause. His jaw clenched for a moment and he looked down at his hands as they rested at his side, they were still shaking. 

“Exactly. Massy, I know being creative is hard right now-”

“It’s not.”

“... But when you drain yourself like this, you can’t think straight. I promise, a nap will help you feel better. Now, go. I’ll wake you up when dinner is ready,” Mikey offered a small smile. Massy frowned to himself, running his fingers through his hair. Weird.

“I.. Okay…”  Massy responded softly, he snagged his water bottle and walked over to the sink to fill it back up with water. As he did so, Mikey walked about behind him gathering fruit from the fruit bowl, likely to make a smoothie. 

Massy watched for a moment, tightening the top of his water bottle. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to let an ‘I love you’ slip by. 

But he didn’t.

Massy clenched his jaw and turned back to his room, his thumb rubbing over the worn edge of a sticker. Fine, he would take a nap.

Then he would get back to work.

[bonesfucker3000]

my tos star trek oc :3

Ta-Da!! My star trek oc like I promised :3

yes I know this is cringe but I am free (and I hate drawing digitally so it's traditional art)

I hope you guys can read it- (more lore below, since I only put the basics)

I feel so silly posting this- (and embarrassed I'm not even going to lie)

More Lore (theres alot and im just simplifying it) :

She is actually a quarter klingon on her mothers side so not fully Terran, she knows the Klingon language fluently, follows Kahless teachings (to an extent, since due to her being also Polish she also follows Catholicism) and knows quite alot about her Klingon heritage such as the culture, rituals, literature ETC ETC Sadly, it's not visible at all that she's a Klingon since when she was very young she had surgery to remove forehead ridges and all that (which looked similar to the ones Torres has in Voyager) to make her look human (also im aware that this doesn't probably follow the star trek canon, but it's my au and I just want to have fun with Kilngons)

(Lil random facts about Merica) He not only knows Klingon fluently, but also English, Polish and Russian (and some vulcan too because her brother married a vulcan and knows some vulcan because of him), has a similar type of patriotism like Chekov where she will claim something was invented in Poland, but which has actual basis in reality (They and Chekov got into multiple shouting matches about if Vodka was invented in Poland or Russia) they practically speak to Chekov in Russian only, got court martialed when they were in their mid 20s (if that didn't happen,they would had been a commander at the start of the 5 year mission on the Enterprise) plays on the saxophone (though rarely plays to a group of people since she's shy about performing) her favourite music genres are Soul and Jazz, specifically mid and late 20th century Soul and Jazz, and also loves karaoke even though he isnt the best at singing, hes a smoker due to the fact it calms her down temporarily since she gets stressed out and pissed off easily (is the type of mf to tell someone to put the vape down and immediately offer a cigarette to them) she is fully aware its not good for her but they don't care, quite outgoing and bubbly especially when it comes meeting new people though can be quite loud, absolutely loves history and politics, is very knowledgeable on intergalactic relations within the federation and on old earth politics too, could go on days yapping about old earth history such as communism overall, the ussr, the cold War, British politics in the 80s to 90s, the eugenic wars, the winged hussars etc etc she's a massive nerd when it comes to politics and history (her and kirk love infodumping and yapping about history for hours) the type of mf to drink a black coffee and smoke a pack of cigarettes for breakfast, she loves to mediate since it calms her down and tries to mediate 30 minutes minimum per day, has emotional problems which means she mostly feels the extreme sides of emotions (eg: if she's angry, half of the time she'll feel rage instead) or is numb to them, she is used to controlling her emotions but if she gets overwhelmed or overstimulated she will flip out, her and bones stared off as friends in the beginning of the five year mission on the Enterprise but during the middle of it (probably like mid season 3 or late season 2) they get together, it's a slow burn relationship (they could had ended up together sooner but she hates expressing her feelings, especially any romantic ones so she just bottles them up, very healthy I know), they got married after the events of TMP and grow old together (me when I lie) uhhhhhhhhhh

There's way more Lore but I do not want to bore you guys

If you have anymore questions about my oc just let me know :3

(I feel so embarrassed making and posting this)