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#be more chill fanfic

jarofmayonassey · 4 months

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The One And Only Spiderwoman

i have had the honor of creating an art piece to go along with @rhimorechill 's One And Only Spiderwoman fic for the be more chill fic bang 2023! Linked below is their fic, which will have regular updates until the story is completed!!

I animated this piece in 3d, along with illustrating all 4 comic covers, and voice acting! Under the cut is the screen reader description of the video, along with closeups of each cover!

A short, fifteen second video clip. A yellow text bubble in the style of Into The Spiderverse glitches onscreen, reading "Meanwhile, In another, another universe." Voiceover, as Christine Canigula, says "Alright, lets do this one more time. My name is Christine Canigula."

The song 'Only One Spiderman' from Into the Spiderverse fades into the background. A 3D animation of 4 comic books falling plays. The first comic depicts Sal, a Spiderman in a sleek white suit with glitching, cybernetic details and neon pink highlights. The next two fall on top of the first, reading "Jeremy Heere, the Spectacular Spiderman" and "Spiderman, Enter: Player One" respectively. The comics depict Jeremy as a spiderperson, in a distinctly vintage style, and Michael Mell as a spiderperson, relaxing in a large spiderweb, flashing a peace sign at the camera.

Voiceover continues: "And I am the one, and only Spiderwoman."

A final comic drops atop the rest. Titled "Spiderwoman", it depicts Christine as a spiderperson, in a pale green suit, a shiny white jacket, and sturdy grey boots. The background is a neon and pastel purple cityscape.

Voiceover concludes, as the music crescendos into silence. "I'm pretty sure you know the rest."

fun facts

-Michael was referenced off of a Miles Morales cover, Jeremy was referenced off of a vintage spiderman cover, and Sal (Squip) was referenced from a Spiderman 2099 cover -I modeled, rigged, UV'd and animated the comics all in one night -I tried to give each comic cover a completely distinct style from one another -Christine's head aura mirrors' squips' spider sense on his cover

#be more chill #squip #bmc #the squip #bmc musical #squip bmc #broadway squip #jeremy heere #Michael mell #christine canigula #be more chill fanfic #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #i fucking cooked ok #you better like this shit

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coldsoup-warmsalad · 3 months

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BMC ZINE SUBMISSION FORM IS OUT NOW!! :D

I got 30+ notes so I’m taking that as a yes!

The deadline to submit is March 15th, 2024!

You can submit anything BMC related as long as it fits the guidelines in the description of the form!

Share it with a musical loving friend or a creative artist!

I’m also tagging everyone who interacted with the original interest check post, sorry if it annoys anyone!

@46-reasonable-hamsters @jeremywhere @dragonairice @rad-rat-with-a-tophat @lunaryuwu @thesquipirl @dodgy-little-shit @thetheatergremlin @zipper-zipp @shadowspirez @artistic-gay-walrus @racoons-in-a-trenchcoay @magicalplaylist @theabyssgazesalsointoyou @warriorblood1 @m00nlight-mexican @richielipschitziloveyou @thesquirrelqueer @anatmosphericman8 @sweet-shut-eye @coconut123but @dustylogicalityrat @lsrgkwtvr @sea-jello @weighted-raincoat @thesnailkiwi

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nezumithewriter · 5 months

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I finished reading Override by nymm_at_night

God i love it when people use fonts that blend into the background

#be more chill #be more chill fanfic #nezumi rambling

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chaotickamakazi · 1 year

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Uggghhhhhh I wrote an expensive headphones fanfic if you’re in the mood for mid writing and inconsistent updates check it out!

#be more chill #be more chill fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #expensive headphones #michael mell #richard goranski #rich goranski

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can-a-tuna-fish · 2 months

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I can and will write a multi page essay about the way people write and portray Richard Goranski’s lisp in fan content and why I don’t like it. this is sort of just one aspect of it, guys please actually consider how a lisp works before writing/playing him with one I’m begging you.

Rich has a tongue between teeth lisp (as opposed to the type of lisp that happens when air escapes from the sides of your teeth), meaning he makes the “sss” and “zzz” sounds with his tongue “out” (touching the top row of his teeth instead of resting behind them).

The way the tongue between teeth sort of lisp works, you only make the “th” sound on certain words. sun, spoil, and toss all require you to use the “sss” sound to pronounce them, meaning they would come out with a th lisp. The same goes for “zzz” sounding words like zebra, puzzle, and lazy. Plus some words with C like icing, voice, and circle, since in this context the C actually makes the same sound as an S.

Not all words that have an S or C in them make the speaker lisp though, which is where I think people get confused about it and write/play him with a silly sounding or inaccurate lisp. Words like share, show, and sheet make a “shh” or a shush sound, which usually wouldn’t have a th lisp attached to it :))

Something I recommend if you’re ever playing him or just generally any character who lisps, be conscious not to speak with your tongue out the entire time. I see a lot of the people who play him just keeping their tongue between their teeth throughout entire sentences while trying to recreate a lisp, and it changes the pronunciation of ALL their words which a lisp wouldn’t do.

Also, when writing a lisp, it’s really repetitive to read anything that constantly emphasizes it. You don’t have to write “thally thellth thea thellth by the thea thore” it’s difficult to read and makes the content less accessible overall, it’s okay to write the words normally and THEN emphasize how they’re spoken, one or two mentions of a lisp is enough to get the point across without constant repetition. Plus then it’s not crowding up your writing and taking all that effort to figure out.

Honestly all I’m saying is to think about how speech impediments work before trying to write/mimic them, genuinely though at most it mildly annoys me so there’s no anger or anything behind this post. It’s something I like talking about + I like rich so he gets to be part of this too.

#I actually don’t expect anyone to read all that #I’m posting this for the clarity of my own mind #it’s one of those things that already bugs me in fanfic #then I watch the source material and realize it happens there too so it bugs me double #this isn’t discoraging anyone from giving him a lisp oh my god please do I love characters who lisp so much #just like think about it a little bit before you do :))#ugh I love this freak #there will probably be more on this eventually #richard goranski #rich goranski #be more chill #bmc #be more chill musical #bmc musical #txt post

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dreamycatart · 7 months

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“Just checking that you’re still breathing, starlight…” Inspired by being checked on with a flashlight while sleeping at the mental hospital- speaking of which, is there an mental hospital au fanfic? I need to cope/ feel a bit better about being in residential lmao

#literally posting this from a mental hospital lmao #it doesn’t get more mentally ill than that #it’s actually pretty chill..?#but also restrictive and exhausting #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf security breach #weirdcore #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf #sun and moon sb #sun and moon fanart #sun and moon security breach #fnaf fanfic #sun and moon fanfic

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its-monster-mash · 1 year

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Didn’t Your Momma Ever Tell You not to Talk to Strangers

Bo Sinclair X Reader - Part Three

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Rough Sex(Consensual), Allusion to past non-con(not with Reader)

Part One Part Two

You stir awake, confused with your body aching, in an unfamiliar bed. The last night’s events come back to you when your eyes settle on the man sprawled out on the bed next to you.

Bo.

He looks so peaceful, almost angelic where the light peeks through the heavy curtains and illuminates him. You can’t help but to lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

A sharp inhale, and a soft sigh, and he’s settled deeper into sleep’s embrace. For a moment, you think about settling back into the blankets yourself—it would be so easy to settle into the crook of Bo’s arm—but you’d skipped lunch yesterday, and then missed dinner in favor of satisfying more urgent hungers, so the treacherous bastard that is your stomach forces you to stay awake.

Still though, it’s hard to tear your eyes away from him, now that you have a moment to take in his form in relative stillness.

You know it’s rude to stare, but there’s no one awake to catch you now, so you let your eyes wander over him unreserved—more studying him than anything. Your breath catches in your lungs when you get a good look at his wrists—you’d thought you’d seen scars, but you’d been so preoccupied with the rest of him last night that you didn’t really let it sink in.

You can tell by the thickness and coloration that these are old scars, and you shudder to think of what exactly could have done that to him.

He lets out a small whimper in his sleep, and that reminds you that your little habit is still fucking creepy when the subject of your fascination is asleep—perhaps moreso.

He makes more small sounds of distress, and you wonder if maybe you should wake him—would that be more kind than letting him sleep?

Probably not—he exerted himself quite a bit last night, taking you through round after round of sticky, sweaty, bloody sex—honestly you’re surprised the two of you aren’t sticking to the sheets right now. Smoothing the mess of his hair out of his forehead, you lean in to press another soft kiss to the clammy skin there, and you’re relieved to see him calm, relaxing back into a deep sleep.

Food.

The cavity inside of you aches from the emptiness, and it’s loud and insistent enough to take precedence over the ache of your muscles, and the bruises he’s left all over your body like a lover’s lipstick.

There’s an old Korn shirt folded up beside your pillow that most definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep—you figure Bo must have left it there for you. You don’t bother to go and find your bra, pulling the soft-worn shirt over your head like a trophy.

Damn.

It’s been a long time since you’ve worn someone else’s clothes, and you relish the way it feels against your skin.

No sense in bothering with bottoms—the shirt is long enough that you’ve worn dresses shorter than it—and you doubt Bo will complain if he’s got easy access when he does wake up.

Especially if he comes downstairs to find you fixing the two of you some breakfast.

He laid down a few ground rules before you fell asleep in his arms last night—you could help yourself to anything in the kitchen as long as you made enough to share, but under no circumstances were you to go in the basement or to go outside without him.

You’d made fun of him about his Mysterious Basement, and something strange flashed across his eyes before he explained that there was a lot of dangerous old equipment down there that he didn’t want messed with—and that the locals are not the friendliest with outsiders, so it’s just best that you don’t go tryin’ to explore the town without him.

He didn’t need to explain himself to you, though—you’re plenty happy to follow his rules since he’s kind enough to let you stay with him after shit hit a boiling point with Tasha and her annoying little boytoy.

It was her that wanted him to come along after all—but all he’d done was bother you.

She had the fucking nerve to be mad at you for it.

You look forward to stopping in to see Bo every time you make your bi-monthly road trip, but yesterday you’d hoped that reminding Tasha, and Corey, of your crush on Bo would get them both to lay off—but Corey pushed you over the edge.

Maybe Tasha was right—maybe you are putting yourself in unnecessary danger; Bo is still technically a stranger to you, after all—you don’t even know his last name.

But if you’d stayed, you couldn’t guarantee that you’d behave—at least this way you could stay in a house with someone you want to trust—rather than getting kicked out on the side of the road after you inevitably wiped that smirk off of Corey’s face.

You don’t think of yourself as particularly violent—but there’s only so far you can be pushed before something snaps in you, and you know it—it’s just safer for everyone if you stay here with Bo until Tasha can come back without him.

But none of that’s important right now.

Now the pressing issue is getting yourself acquainted with his kitchen—first thing’s first—you’d better get it cleaned up before you start digging around for ingredients. It feels a little tacky to get cooking and then only wash what you used when he’s got so much lying around.

Ooh, better start coffee too, you might need it by the time you’re done cleaning up.

It’s not that you’re judging—you’ve seen worse messes in the college dorms, to be honest—but he never did discuss any kind of rent for your stay, so the least you can do is take care of this much.

You’re washing up the last of the mugs when the sound of the kitchen door startles you, and an equally taken aback man stands in the doorway, staring at you with wide eyes that you’re sure match your own.

Bo didn’t tell you anyone else was supposed to show up, but the sheer confusion on the man’s face at the sight of you suggests he’s actually supposed to be here.

“Hey,” you force yourself to start talking, very much wishing you had bothered to find your shorts. “Uh…I’m a—guest—of Bo’s.” You’re suddenly very aware of all the bruises on your body, and you hope to god the man has the decency not to mention them.

You hold your still-soapy hand out for him to shake, and he accepts it a bit awkwardly.

“Blink twice if you’re here against your will.”

For a moment he looks serious, but at the look of utter confusion on your face, he breaks into a wide grin and an easy laugh that makes you feel a whole lot better.

“I’m just foolin’ wit’cha.” He drops his duffel bag to the ground, taking a seat at the table as he studies you. “So you’re Bo’s mysterious girlfriend—heard a lot about you—wasn’t sure you actually existed.”

“Not sure I’d use that word quite yet.” You offer an awkward laugh, turning back to the sink to hopefully hide the way the thought of being something more than just a convenient Fuck Buddy to Bo makes you blush.

“Bo would.” He grins, seeming to relish your discomfort. “Name’s Lester—I’m the baby brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” You smile at him, tugging the hem of your borrowed shirt. “I didn’t know Bo had brothers.” Of course, you don’t actually know very much about Bo to begin with.

“Yeah, there’s two of us—Vincent is Bo’s twin, but uh—I don’t know if you’ll see him any time soon.” Lester squints, squeezing his lips together like he’s suddenly not sure exactly how much he’s supposed to tell you—given Bo apparently hasn’t bothered to fill you in on much of anything.

“Why not? Is he away?” Your brow furrows; it’s really none of your business—but he seemed to offer the information readily enough.

“Vin’s shy—he’s one a’ them reclusive artist types.” He drums his fingers on the table. “He’s real talented though; got a lot a’ work down in our Momma’s ol’ Wax Museum.”

Your eyes light up, and suddenly you find yourself forgetting to be self-conscious. “No kidding; I saw the outside of the Museum when Bo drove me up here, but I haven’t been in.”

His eyes narrow on you, his expression becoming ever-so-slightly hesitant—you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t spent so much time studying body language over the years. “Just how much of the town have you seen?”

“Not a thing,” you admit. “I’ve only ever stopped by to see Bo—and last night he said he doesn’t want me going down into town without him.”

“Oh.” Lester nods slowly, like things are falling into place for him. “Okay, that makes sense.”

You’re about to open your mouth to ask more questions, when Lester perks up. “Hey, you’re the one always bringin’ Bo snacks and stuff—did I interrupt you gettin’ ready to cook breakfast?”

There it is.

“I was just getting the dishes out of the way before I start looking at ingredients.” You dry your hands off on your shirt. “Bo said I could help myself to the kitchen as long as I made enough to share.”

“Oh, so now he’s all about sharing,” Lester huffs, and you can’t help grinning at the way his arms cross like a petulant child. “Greedy bastard won’t let anyone else try the goodies you bring him.” He does his best to look all big and mean and grumpy, and you snort when you realize he’s doing an impression of Bo. “She made it for me—get your own girl.”

“Oh he didn’t,” you laugh. “That’s so rude.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” He throws his hands up into the air. “So—you want me to help you find anything? That oughta earn me a seat at the table, right?”

“Sure, Lester.” You smile at him, crossing your arms playfully as you picture Bo hoarding your gifts and calling you his girl. “I’ll bake some muffins if we’ve got the stuff for them—that’s a sharing food.”

“Wow, you are sweet.” He pulls over a chair to climb on, getting a better vantage point to peruse the cabinets. “The hell are you doin’ wit’ Bo?”

“Well, he’s been sweet to me.”

“Sure as hell have,” Bo grumbles, wandering into the kitchen in nothing but boxers and socks.

Your chest tightens at the sight of him, thinking about what Lester had said. “I made coffee—Lester was just helping me find the ingredients I need to make a batch of muffins.”

His expression softens, and he sidles up real close to you, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Coffee, fresh baked muffins, and a pretty girl gettin’ it for me—man could get used to that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. “There’s a can ‘a pumpkin in the third cabinet over.”

That’ll occupy Lester for a second; long enough for Bo to lift your shirt up for a quick peek—relishing the marks he’d left on your body—evidence that may as well spell out ‘Bo Sinclair Was Here’. He chuckles when you cover yourself back up at breakneck speed—pleased that he’s the only one you’re eager to go showin’ off for.

He takes a step closer, pinning you between the kitchen counter and his large frame—he relishes the way your hands splay across his chest when he presses a less than innocent kiss under your ear. “Sorry I forgot to tell you we ain’t alone on Laundry Day,” he whispers, his hot breath washing over your ear before he teases you terribly with a lascivious nip. “Otherwise I’d take you right fuckin’ now.”

“Still in the room,” Lester groans in mock irritation, tossing the can of pumpkin at Bo.

He’s fast as lightning when he turns to catch it, and annoyance flashes across his face. “Hey dumbass, you could’a hit her.”

“Oh no way,” Lester laughs. “You wouldn’ta let your girlfriend get hit.” He mocks Bo with an exaggerated show of over the top kissy noises, and Bo whips the can back at him.

“I’m gonna hit you if you keep runnin’ yer damn mouth!” Bo makes the sourest damn expression you’ve ever seen—not unlike a kid in full-tantrum mode—before he picks up Lester’s duffel bag and tosses it to him—a little more gently. “Go do your fuckin’ laundry—shit’s stinkin’ up the place.”

“Oh because roadkill is so much worse than motor oil.” Lester rolls his eyes, but ducks when Bo grabs a mug out of the dish strainer. “It was nice to meet you!” He shoots you one last smile before running off into some other part of the house.

“You guys are such brothers—”

You’re cut off by Bo’s lips on yours, and you gasp when he picks you up and sets your ass down right on the kitchen counter. “Sorry,” he grunts, not sounding remotely sorry. “Couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Bo!” You shriek, weaving your fingers into his hair when he pushes his way between your thighs, his hot tongue dragging through your folds and across your clit.

Your pussy is still sore and swollen from the absolute punishment it took from him last night, so you’re already overstimulated when he slips a finger inside, growling like an animal as he sucks on your clit.

You can’t help squeezing your thighs together around his head, and apparently that was the wrong move, because his mouth leaves your clit in order to bite down hard on the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

He grins when he hears you yelp.

He leans back, taking a good eyeful of you sat up on the counter, your face flushed with need—for him—with only one of his old shirts for modesty. He sees something in your eyes that he’s never been able to simply take from the victims he’s had before.

You want him, and there ain’t a lick of shame in your eyes about it.

He rubs the already bruising spot where he’d bitten you with a careful tenderness, and you hum. “God, you’re just so damn good for me.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You’ve spent exactly one night here—he knows it’s not the time to be laying it on so thick. You ain’t like the other girls—you still like him by choice—he doesn’t want to fuck that up by letting you know just how much of an effect you have on him. How much he’s fixated on you from the very beginning.

He doesn’t want to give you that kind of power over him—he can’t afford to give you a knife to twist.

But God help him, there you go twisting it anyway.

He’d been so caught up in his own head that he hadn’t noticed your soft hands creeping up to cup his cheeks—fuck—you always look so fuckin’ sweet when you hold him tender and look into his eyes.

He’s terrified you’re gonna look right into his soul, and that you won’t like what you see.

“Wanna be your good girl,” you whisper, your lips ghosting his before you take his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Oh Sugar,” he groans, moving his hand between you to rub your clit—taking back at least a little control. “You got no idea what you’re doin’ to me.”

You whimper so sweet against his lips, and he drinks it all in. He kisses the corner of your mouth, the curve of your jaw, your throat—lower and lower until he’s once again settled between your legs.

You deserve this. So good for him. The longer he can keep you dumb for his touch the longer he can keep you here and drag out the illusion that he’s the man you want, the man who makes your heart flutter with something other than fear.

Two fingers—you’re already wet enough that he ain’t bothering with just one—curl against the sweet spot inside of you, and your hands are back in his hair as you squirm in his grasp.

“Want you to look at me,” he growls against your clit, before his tongue darts back out to trace his full name.

God.

There’s a desperate hunger in your eyes when they meet his, and he knows that the tears of pleasure pricking at your lashes are all for him.

“Fuck, Bo,” you whine, wriggling your hips against his face. “Gonna cum.”

“Come on, Baby,” he grunts. “Le’me have it.”

He’s utterly transfixed by the way you try to keep your eyes open when you lose control of your body—like you want to see the man between your legs as he laps up your sweet juices.

It’s a big fuckin’ ego boost, and it goes straight to his head.

Suddenly, he’s standing, looming over you and wrapping a hand around your throat while the other keeps on pettin’ your sweet pussy.

“Bo, please,” you whine, your thighs trembling from the overstimulation. “It’s too much.”

“Bo, please,” he teases you, though he gives you a break long enough to pull his cock free from his boxers, sliding it through your slick before smacking you a couple good times against the clit. “You want this cock, honey?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while your eyes fixate on where the head of his cock just barely dips into you.

“Words, Sugar,” he insists, the hand on your throat moving to cup your jaw to force you to look him in the eyes. Mistake. His heart flutters at the look of utter need you give him. “You want more than just the tip, you're gonna have to remember your manners.”

“Please, Bo,” you beg, your lip quivering pathetically as you try to will your pretty little head to form thoughts. “Need to feel you inside me.”

Need.

He can’t help himself from sinking into you—‘Need’ feels like a good word when he’s buried deep in the warmth of your sex. He kisses you hard, and he knows damn well his grip on your jaw is gonna bruise—but as long as you keep clinging to him for dear life and moaning so pretty in his mouth he can’t be bothered to care. His tongue traces the curve of your lips, before plunging past your teeth to dance against your own.

“You like tastin’ yourself on me, Sweetheart?”

You nod, stealing another kiss like you can’t help yourself before deigning to speak. “Fuck, Bo, yes.”

One of your hands snakes around to squeeze his throat, and the growl that escapes him is nothing short of feral.

For a split second, he’s enraged that you’d fuckin’ dare, but the manic lust on your face as you choke him is so damn hot he nearly busts right there.

Instead, he pulls out of you, ripping himself from your grasp. You let out a ragged moan from the loss of contact, but he doesn’t give you enough time to be disappointed before grabbing you by the back of the neck and slamming you face down against the table, giving your ass a good hard smack with his free hand.

God damn you’re a filthy slut—wriggling your ass back against him like you’re desperate for it.

Lucky for you, you’re not the only one who’s nasty.

He rams his cock back into your heat, his grip on your neck still forcing your face down into the table as he chases his release like a beast in rut.

He growls in your ear, more animal than man, before taking the lobe between his teeth. “You’re mine, you fuckin’ hear me?”

“Bo!” You shriek, the coil at the core of your pleasure threatening to snap.

“Say you know you’re fuckin’ mine,” he growls. “‘I’m yours, Bo.’” His other hand slips around you to palm your clit roughly, too roughly. “Say. It.”

“I’m YOURS,” you all but sob as you come undone around his cock, body all alight from the too-intense pleasure.

He’s not far behind—his thrusts become erratic, and he doesn’t even care about dragging it out any longer as he explodes inside of you, panting like a dog against your shoulder as your bodies melt into shuddering spasms.

“Damn fuckin’ right.”

He allows himself to slump back into one of the kitchen chairs, dragging you with him with his cock still inside you.

You take his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. His heart lurches in his chest.

“Fuck, Bo.” You lean your head back against his shoulder, smiling at him with that blissed out and dumb look on your face. “That’s one way to work up an appetite.”

His hand snakes up to squeeze your titty through his old shirt as he laughs, burying his face in your shoulder.

He can hardly fucking believe you’re real.

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jarofmayonassey · 5 months

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THE MYSTERY OF OPHIO HIGH (ART BY THE INCREDIBLE @significantlylesschill )

As a darkness looms over Ophiuchus Secondary school, Jeremy and Michael discover that something is shifting, writhing, living in the backs of everyone's minds. When their school play goes off without a hitch, the boys are drawn into a horrifying mystery-- and the monster seems to know them.

GEE MAYO WHY DO YOU GET TWO PROMO POSTS? BECAUSE I HAD TWO INCREDIBLE ARTISTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO COOL SO GOOD SO GREAT

#be more chill #squip #bmc #the squip #bmc musical #broadway squip #squip bmc #jeremy heere #michael mell #bmc fanfic #bmcbb2023 #this was so fun ive never written so quickly in my life

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coldsoup-warmsalad · 14 days

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BE MORE CHILL ZINE OUT NOW!!

With amazing art/writing from:

@maybe-i-should-try-harder

@thesnailkiwi

@witchymoonart

@h0n3yk1tt3n

@zipper-zipp

@lunaryuwu

@theabyssgazesalsointoyou

@fentonworkz

This zine is FREE FOR ALL!!! Enjoy it, I’m proud to have curating it for you all!!

#be more chill #bmc #bmc musical #bmc zine #be more chill zine #bmc fanart #bmc fanfic #be more chill fanart #be more chill fanfic #Jeremy heere #Michael mell #Boyf riends

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crystalline-sanders · 6 months

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"Lee felt bad. He would apologize later. He would make it up to him. But he couldn't do that unless this was a convincing performance."

uhhh based on a fic I'm working on with a lot of terrible awful electrical shock based horror in it!! yipee!!

#art #bmc squip #be more chill #bmc #the squip #be more chill fanart #fanart #be more chill squip #this lighting took longer than i care to admit #also yes i write fanfic I've written over 5k words for this man #friendly distinction that this is lee

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bigfemboyenergy · 29 days

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The Worst Crossover To Ever ‘Cross Over’ Pt.2

See, Danny isn’t terribly surprised with his predicament. And by that, he means that he is wholly unsurprised that he has to fake who he is. A fourteen year old kid working, in this day and age? Unlikely, he thinks. So he decides to pretend to be fifteen, what an easy fix. But that doesn’t help with Sonic’s side of the problem. Sure, Sonic gets confused for a kid, but..how old is he?

As soon as the thought surfaces, Danny opens his mouth to speak, turning to look at Sonic as they walk around, searching for a somewhat acceptable abandoned building or something similar to hide out in for now. “Uh, how old are you, exactly?” Danny asks, with little hesitation. Sonic shrugs; “Old enough to legally drink in some countries- why, worried about something?” Danny feels his face turn a bit white. Wow, his appearance does not match his age. With a nervous smile, Danny responds with, “Yeah, dunno if you could get a job looking like that. I’m fourteen, and even I look older than you.” Sonic coughs awkwardly. “I’m gonna have to work on that, aren’t I? What an unlucky day it is,” he says, with a yawn. Shelving that problem in order to focus on the most important one, the two continue to wander the streets, looking for something to temporarily call “home”.

It isn’t too long before they find a suitable place. Dark, dreary, just like everywhere else; but it’s far more exaggerated, and even dirtier than the rest of the city. Some old graffiti here and there, a broken window or two. Not too shabby on the inside, still has running water and an AC. It makes Danny wonder just how old this building is and just how long it’s been since it was last lived in.

Sonic inspects every nook and cranny of the building, as if checking for safety violations. It appears to be an old office building, with kitchen necessities in what might’ve been a break room, and running water in the bathrooms. He investigates alone, namely for “Danny’s safety”, he says, but it makes one think. The amount of spiders he’s killed seems to point to a different conclusion..but that’s of no matter.

After looking at every floor, Sonic finally decides which one they’ll be staying on. Something that’s just a cut above the rest, and also safe enough- the third floor, out of four. He waves Danny over to the cleanest spot in the spacious, main room, calling out, “Let’s sleep over here for now, since we kinda can’t clean anything yet. It looks a lot nicer here, away from the nasty corners.” Danny nods, agreeing in silence. It looks like they have a lot of work to do, as they both flop on the floor and try to sleep.

Danny, however, struggles to sleep. In an entirely new city, an empty building, with someone who he’s just been freshly acquainted with, trying to sleep on the cold, hard floor? That’s no easy feat, and he acknowledges this. So he comes to the most logical conclusion: why not check out the city from above, via Phantom form? In silence, he nods in agreement with his own thought, intrigued by his new possibilities. He’ll fly out and survey the town, enjoy the sunrise, if he’s awake for that long- try to make this place feel a little bit like home. Familiarize himself with it, perhaps. It sounds like a good plan, no? So he acts.

He whispers to himself, after assuring that Sonic is asleep, “Going ghost!” He transforms in silence. A little reminder of who he is, the whispers of who he was only hours ago, come to him via his reference of his beginnings. It gives him a feeling of determination, a want to explore. A desire to protect this new friend he’s found, and the strangers of a place he’s newly discovered. Slowly slipping through the floor, intangibly, he floats out of the building, making himself invisible so as not to spook anyone else who may be out at night.

In the night sky, he soars through the clouds as he takes in the layout of the city. It’s large, dark, and..full of crime, which makes a lot of sense in such a poverty-stricken area, but.. it has an air of abnormality. Suddenly, he hears some horrible sounds. Shrill, shrieking laughter booms out from a warehouse a few blocks away, his ears wishing for the silence of seconds before to return. Although he doesn’t truly want to approach, his obsession to protect those in need draws him to the source of the sound. The closer he gets, the more off everything seems. And..are those furries on the top of that building? What have I gotten myself into, he thinks, with an accompanying facepalm. Oh, boy.

Back in the cold, dreary office building, Sonic wakes up, restless. He feels terrible..he turns towards Danny, wanting to check on him, before quickly finding out that he’s not even present. What a fantastic day this has been. Sonic feels his heart pumping, ready for a run. He has to find Danny, to make sure he’s okay. Unless..he left of his own accord? Shit, what if he actually is weirded out by me..he said something about the unusualness of a guy like me showing up, didn’t he?! Sonic struggles to decide what to do. He knows Danny could be in need, he knows he’s young. And, from what he’s gathered, he’s a bit odd too, but if he needs help, of course Sonic should jump on in for him! They’re “partners in crime” now, aren’t they?

Despite his conscience screaming at him to go, he still struggles to make the choice. What if Danny really didn’t mean anything he said? But..he listens to that loud, desperate part of him. He doesn’t want to lose the only person he’s found here. If he can save or help this kid, someone who accepts him in this strange new place, that’s just what he’ll do.

So, against his “better judgement”, he rushes off, speeding around the town to find Danny. If anything, he should be where it’s quietest or where it’s loudest, since both are eeriest. As Sonic zooms off, going incredibly fast so as not to be seen clearly, he is particularly careful to check suspicious, disturbing areas.

Not long after he began his run, he finds Danny. But it’s quite the weird situation to be in.. cause Danny’s colors are inverted now? Amd there’s this weird bat guy a few buildings away, with some friends, too.. and a fucking..clown?! What is this shit, bad writing??!

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