Itzy-Bitsy-Spider

Here for a fanfic time, hopefully...

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

✦✶ HI! I'M BITSY!! ✶✦

Bitsy/she/her

❀I'm here to write about all the fandoms I wish were bigger (and some that are but I just love content).❀

Disclaimer: English is not my first languaje.

Fandoms:

One piece

Sonic movies

Locke & Key (Netflix series)

Merlin (BBC)

Slugterra

Idk, I'll figure it out soon enough

On going fanfics:

•Merlin's assistant.

• Something made a hole in my backyard (Shadow The Hedgehog x Platonic reader)

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[puppydogwhitaker]

PSA to fic readers, it is so hard to freak a fic writer out with your comments. we are just as crazy about the fic as you are.

tell me you love it. tell me it made you slam your laptop shut. tell me you brought it up at your college lecture about kink. key smash in all caps. quote the passage that made you think. i promise, we’ll love it.

we spend hours thinking about it, writing it, editing it. there is no such thing as over enthusiasm when you’re talking about our fics to us. we are sooooo weird about them, i assure you. you are just matching my freak. the freak bar is already set so high. feel no anxiety about enjoying something and letting the creator know.

[milowing]

the father (dolly parton), the son (sabrina carpenter), and the holy spirit (miss piggy)

[atwistoffate]

The Space Between Us - Part 1

Dean x Reader Summary: You and Dean get hit with a curse, one that really hates distance. And it keeps tightening the longer it lasts. Seems like you’re stuck side-by-side now… good luck with that. Word Count: 1.6K

Dean knows something’s wrong the second you both stumble out of that warehouse, gravel crunching under his tired feet, sharp beneath the quiet night sky. Silence stretches all around, but it’s heavy, almost suffocating, and there’s a weight on his chest, pressing down with every shallow breath.

He forces in a deeper one, telling himself he’s just tired. He’s not twenty-five anymore after all. Step by step, he keeps up behind you until his fingers brush the cold metal of the Impala.

“Man… that was rough,” he exhales, sliding into the car and letting his shoulder slump against the leather seat. Another breath in, and then a glance your way, and another, just to make sure you’re okay. He has to make sure, and he has to double-check.

He sees your eyes do the same, scanning him quickly, and his chest tightens. Then he realises he can finally take a little more air in, and he nods to himself, swallows down the night, or at least tries to.

“What the hell was that?” you groan, slumping in the seat next to him. “I’m beat.”

“Yeah… you’re telling me,” he murmurs, turning the key in the ignition.

The road to the motel crawls beneath the tires. It shouldn’t feel this long, but every mile drags. 

The seats are comfortable, and the night sky presses down in quiet reverence. Normally, you’d drift toward the windows, imagining the lives inside the houses you pass. Not tonight. Tonight, your bones ache and your head feels too heavy to wander. So you just close your eyes and breathe, letting the darkness carry what little energy remains.

When you finally get to the motel and step into the warm shower, something nibbles at the edges of your awareness, prickling under your skin, weightless but warm, sliding inside. You rest your head against the shower door and breathe in, breathe out, letting the water wash over your tired bones, soothing with its steady passage.

It was supposed to be a quick job, in and out, easy for the most part. That’s why you hadn’t even told Sam. The guy deserved one weekend at Eileen’s without the job breathing down his neck.

And you and Dean… well, you were bored out of your minds, and Lebanon, Kansas, doesn’t exactly offer much in the way of fun. That was all the rationale you’d needed.

And now here you are, dragging yourself out of the shower like an eighty-year-old woman with arthritis.

Dean is staring off into space when you return to the room. Sitting on his bed, he frowns at… something. Probably his own thoughts; it wouldn’t be the first time. Then he looks at you, eyebrows scrunched. “You feel… weird at all?”

Oh, here we go. The start of every nightmare.

“Uh, just tired, I guess. Why? Something wrong?” 

“Nah,” he waves it off. '‘S probably nothing. Must be gettin’ too old for this crap.”

“Yeah, reading my mind,” you comment as he heads for the bathroom. 

The nagging feeling is still there, just a breath away, crawling toward your insides again, but you’re too damn tired to care. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow, when your brain can handle more than one thought at a time.

So you lie down and close your eyes, letting the warm hum of water from the shower and Dean’s low, lazy humming lull you toward sleep. The sound is steady, grounding, and for a moment, it’s enough to make the creeping weight inside fade to the background.

The edges of the motel room blur soon enough, and you’re pulled into another world. You’re standing in a quiet field at dusk, the air soft, smelling faintly of wet grass and earth. An ache coils in your chest, tight and heavy.

You’re walking towards Dean, and every step takes effort, but with every inch you close the distance, the weight eases, melting under the warmth of his presence.

He stands a few feet away, hands loose at his sides, eyes fixed on you. 

You step closer, the grass brushing your ankles, and finally, your hands meet. His fingers curl around yours, firm and warm, and the ache dissolves, replaced by something else: longing, and a hint of fear that this feeling could vanish at any moment.

“So cruel,” he murmurs, “making me wait for so long.”

You lean closer, drawn to him, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face. His fingers linger, warm against your skin, and he whispers, “You don’t even know, do you?”

“Know what?” 

“How I feel about you.”

Your chest tightens, and you snap awake, gasping slightly, trying to draw in deep, steady breaths to calm yourself. The motel room is dim and quiet. Across the small space, Dean lies in the bed next to yours, chest rising and falling in a slow, familiar rhythm.

You shake your head at yourself, as if chastising the dream for affecting you so deeply. Slowly, you turn your back to him, curling slightly under the covers. You try to push the dream from your mind and sink back toward sleep, but his words keep returning, echoing through your mind, impossible to ignore.

Your breathing steadies, if only a little, and eventually, the darkness of sleep draws you back in, this time into a dream without him.

—

The morning drifts by soft and easy as you and Dean head back to the bunker, music blasting, wind lifting your hair out the open window. Dean drives like he always does, one hand on the wheel, steady, familiar. 

A full night of sleep has worked wonders, and you already feel clearer, lighter.

When you glance over, he’s tapping the rhythm out on the wheel, mouthing the lyrics, and something in your chest unclenches. You’re both safe, and you’re going home.

“You know, been thinkin’,” he says eventually, lowering the radio a notch. “Could do a little reunion tonight. Invite some folks over - Eileen, Charlie. Would be nice.”

“I’d love that, but… can we do it tomorrow?”

“Why?” His head snaps toward you, not sharply, just enough to show he’s alert. Worried. “Something wrong?”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “I just… have plans tonight.”

Another glance from him, this one slower. A crease forms between his brows. “Plans?”

“Yeah. The guy from the case in Lebanon last week.” You try for casual, shrugging. “He asked me out. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

Dean’s mouth tightens, just barely. “Didn’t know you were lookin’ to date. Far as I remember, you said you—what was it—‘can’t see yourself in a relationship.’”

“I did say that,” you admit. “I don’t know. Something about it felt… Right enough to try, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he says, one syllable, quiet. “Right.”

He nods, like he’s agreeing with himself, not you. His jaw flexes once. Then he turns the radio back up, not loudly, just enough to fill the space that used to feel easy.

He doesn’t drum anymore, doesn’t hum, doesn’t even glance your way.

He just grips the wheel a little tighter and stares at the long road ahead.

—

Sam’s already back at the bunker when you and Dean come down the stairs. He’s texting, smiling at his phone – no mystery there. “Hey, guys,” he calls, hearing your steps. “Where were you?”

“Just a hunt,” Dean says. He doesn’t offer anything else, doesn’t even slow down. He barely drops the duffel on the table before walking straight out of the room. His footsteps echo as he moves away. Maybe they’re not even that loud, maybe you’re just too tuned into him.

The second he crosses the threshold, though, something slams into you.

Your stomach twists violently, nausea climbing your throat. Cold sweat beads on your skin. You grip the table with both hands to keep yourself upright as your vision blurs around the edges.

Sam says your name sharply and is at your side in a heartbeat. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I… dunno,” you manage, breath hitching. “Don’t feel so good.”

He steadies you with a hand around your shoulders. “Sit down, c’mon.” He guides you into a chair, and you’re barely seated before he runs out of the room, toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab you some wa—”

He doesn’t finish. 

“Dean!” Sam shouts suddenly, and he’s running again… not toward the kitchen at all. “Dean, what’s wrong?!”

Fear surges so hard through you that you force yourself up, legs trembling. You manage only a step or two before another wave of nausea knocks the breath out of you. The room tilts, and you cling to the table, trying again, needing to move, needing to see.

Then Sam drags Dean into view.

He’s pale, ashen, and barely standing on his own. His knees buckle once before Sam hauls him upright again.

“C’mon,” Sam says urgently, arm locked around his brother’s waist. “C’mon, Dean, it's gonna be okay.”

The moment Sam drags him fully into the room—

Everything stops. Your nausea. The shaking. The fog eating at the edges of your vision. Gone.

You straighten instantly, breath clearing, as if someone just flipped a switch.

Dean blinks hard, like he feels the sudden shift too, and stands a little straighter, letting go of Sam’s arm. His breathing evens out, colour returning to his face. 

“The hell?” he mutters, looking down at himself.

Sam looks between you and Dean, eyes wide, concern tightening his jaw. “Okay,” he says carefully. “What is going on with you two?”

Though your vision has cleared and your legs are steady again, the moment holds you fast. It lies heavy in your stomach, thick with a fear you can’t name. Because when your eyes find Dean, breathing but shaken, you know this isn’t over. Whatever has marked you has marked him too, and it’s only just begun.

---

Part 2

---

Dean Tags: @hobby27 @foxyjwls007 @hotgirlsshareaccounts @katiejade @missyoudean

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

I haven't even seen supernatural but this fic popped up on my suggestion and HOLY SHIT, GO READ IT, LIKE, RIGHT NOW.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

I feel like my Shadow x platonic! reader fic keeps on getting longer than I originally intended 😔😭

[sabine-art-corner]

El hecho de que Venezuela celebre el haber sido "liberados" por EE.UU dice montones de la situación en la que estaba el país, la gente no es tonta, la mayoría debe saber lo que implica que Trump ahora tenga acceso a Venezuela, aún así celebran porque la situación anterior acabó, no se los puede juzgar por estar felices al respecto. De acá en adelante solo queda esperar que la gente de Venezuela pueda luchar por su democracia y su territorio, Trump nunca ha hecho algo qué no fuera para su propio beneficio, desde Argentina apoyamos a nuestros hermanos.

Este sería un gran momento para que la ONU interviniera.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

I´m thinking about making a visual novel (yk, a videogame like ddlc and others of sorts) Now all I need is an idea on what to make it about.

[questionable-method]

sometimes pre-ts zoro is just so very Nineteen that it makes me emotional. he's reckless. he's vulnerable. he's never worried about wrecking his body because he's young and strong and he can bounce back. (or maybe it's that he's kind of suicidal.) he's lonely. he laughs at stupid things. he acts older than his friends who are barely younger than him. he completely overestimates his skill level. his guiding philosophy is "fuck it we ball." his sleep schedule is just whatever happens. he has not been held in a long time. he can barely contain the love he feels. he is so so awkward about showing it. he's sure of what he wants. he thinks he's much closer to it than he is. he really really needs a damn hug.

[questionable-method]

A lot of ppl are reblogging this saying they miss the pre timeskip characterization and he doesn't feel like him anymore he's not silly anymore etc. and what they're noticing is true but I'm not sure it's a writing flaw like everyone seems to think. I think actually Zoro's post timeskip behavior is a very realistic trauma response.

For one bright, shining moment in Zoro's life he wasn't alone. He was surrounded by family and love and laughter. And then he couldn't protect them. Even after wrecking his body in every possible way it wasn't enough. He lost them. Luffy, the man to whom he swore he'd never lose again, nearly died and Zoro wasn't there to help, because he did lose. Helplessly, brutally.

Then he spent the next two years doing nothing but fight and train and wonder if his friends were okay, aware even when he returned that he's still not the strongest fighter out there. That he still might fail and lose them all again if he's not careful. He had basically no social development at all during that time with only Mihawk and Perona to keep him company, both of whom are awkward loners themselves, really. All he had to occupy his mind with was grief, shame, and determination to be stronger.

So yeah he acts tough and stoic and he doesn't laugh as much anymore or goof off in the middle of fights because now he knows the cost. He knows what could be taken from him at any time. He is not going to let his guard down. If keeping his family safe and together means he doesn't get to feel as carefree anymore, he'll choose that in an instant. He will always choose the option where he takes on a burden and carries it as well as he can so that no one else has to.

In short, he's terrified. This is how Zoro acts when he's afraid and refusing to show it. And I don't think his characterization will stay this way forever. I think sooner or later he's going to break.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"2x1 on hedgehogs (pt.11)"

or "Something made a hole in my backyard (pt.11)"

Shadow the hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: Is anybody still interested on this? (Feel free to ask me to take you down or put you on the tag list) Anyways, I might as well try to finish one project in my life, right?

Remember to comment if you like the chapter! Enjoy!

Part 10 Masterlist

"Well, hello there..." said the man as he stared at you with the bigest grin you had ever seen in someone´s face.

"Who are you?" maybe that was not the question that fitted the situation best, perhaps a: 'Were you the one to kidnap me?' was more situation appropiate, but as your tongue got all twisted inside your mouth and your stomach sank on itself you couldn´t really focus on that.

"My name is really not all that important," -he shook his hand in the air as if brushing invisible dirt under a rug- "but you, young lady, oh, you are quite the discovey..." he extended his hand towards you and if it wasn´t impossible you would have sworn that his smile got just the tiniest bit wider.

Alternating your sight between his hand and his face you could not make up your mind about what to do next, so instead you just repeated the question.

"Who are you?"

You didn´t know what you expected, maybe for his smile to crumble even slightly at the fact that you were relentless and aprehensive to his friendly gesture. Instead of that all you received was the same smile, and two hands under your armpits pushing you off the ground.

You pushed the man away, stumbling onto your feet but still managing to not fall right back into your ass.

He remained impassive, just standing there and smiling, joining his two hand with a clap louder than it should have been given the black leather gloves.

He turned around and started walking away from you towards what looked like... a kitchen island?

"So, would you like something to drink? I know how to brew some good coffee"

You looked at your surroundings, no windows in sight, no other visible doors than the one you initially walked in through, nothing but the kitchen island.

With wariness you decided to approach the man in purple as he took off his coat, and before you could even wonder where he would hang the thing a door opened on the floor and multiple stools emerged from it.

You were not gonna lie, it was pretty fucking cool.

You stepped slightly closer, not enough to even reach the stools, just enough to feel safe.

With his back still turned to you the man took off his red glasses and placed them on top of the counter as he walked to the other side of it. On ly then did he turned around.

He laid his hands on the counter to support himself and looked straight into your eyes.

He was still smiling, but the lack of the glasses made him look a tad bit less menacing.

He seemed familiar, like you had seen him before.

"As I said before, my name is really not relevant, but you can call me Agent Stone".

"Now, how do you like your coffee?"

Camping was fun, Sonic loved it. He got to spend time with his family, eat trash food (which included a sandwich of marshmallows, chocolate, ice cream and whipped cream), and overall have a great time.

But adding a race to the camping trip? Oh boy, he was the happiest hedgehog on earth.

Which was probably the reason why fighting with a robot that looked a little bit like him (haters would say they looked a lot alike) didn't faze him all that much.

It also could have something to do with the pink hedgehog that showed up to give him a hand ( again, haters would say she did all the work).

"Amy"

"That's your name?" He asked her, back at the camp.

"Sonic, don't be rude" his mom called out to him as she handed the girl hedgehog a cup of hot chocolate.

"I'm just saying, it's a little..." Sonic scratched his head and made a weird face "basic?"

That earned him a dirty look from the girl, as she sipped on her cup.

"Sonic!" Maddie whisper-screamed in an accusing tone, which finally got the blue hedgehog to make silence with a raise of shoulders.

"Anyways, What are you doing here ? How did you even get here?" Asked Tom who was trying to understand everything that was happening. Truth to be told his mind had been a little preocuppied with guilt regarding his niece.

"The cards told me to come here" Amy answered smiling sweetly.

"The cards?" questioned Maddie "What cards?"

In response the pink hedgehog took, from a little pouch that hung from her belt, a deck of tarot cards and proudly showed them. Tails instantly approached the cards to inspect them, holding one close to his face.

"Wooow, now she also reads cards, watch out she might attack you with crystals next" Sonic said sarcastically as he shaked his hands in mock fear.

"Crystals are very hard, it is no joke to attack with them" said Knuckles solemnly, missing completely the way his blue brother rolled his eyes at him.

"All I know is that there was people on earth that needed me, and so I came as fast as I could" Amy smiled smugly as she added "And thank everything that I got here on time, imagine if one of those robots had harmed you"

"As if ! I am the fastest being alive on this planet, they wouldn´t have been able to even graze me"

The verbal fight between the hedgehogs was lost on Tom as he felt a knot tightening in his stomach and throat. With a decision made he stood up.

"We´re going back to Green Hills"

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423@kyouzki@moon-trash1507@shadowforlive@multifandom-501ratchetprime211

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

I literally just finished watching K-pop Demon Hunters on Netflix and it´s, SO GOOD??!!! Like, I wasn´t expecting that at all, but all the songs were amazing, the story was great (I cried) I was the hole movie like: Is this going to have a good ending? and then I got torn apart emotionally and got chills all at the same time.

AND THE CHEMISTRYYYY??!!! Inmaculate.

Did I already say that the songs were incredible? I loved it, 10/10, best modern movie I have seen in a while.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

Part 11 of "Something made a hole in my backyard"??

Sooner than you´d think....

(Living alone is kicking my ass, ngl)

[doodle-list]

My Strawhat Deck!! (Ofc VIvi is included shes a strawhat TO ME) Been working on these for a while and I'm very happy with how they turned out

I will be turning them into an actual deck of cards btw!!! Very excited to sell them at conventions (More info on my insta @\doodle.list 👀) and eventually online! so keep an out for that hehe

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

This is freaking gorgeous

[scorpiovelaryon]

THUNDERBOLTS* | 2025

[heartsofbeskar]

doesnt my job understand i have a blooming fanfiction writing career to work on

[wolfythewitch]

Need you guys to know I am soooo anti generative AI. In case that wasn't clear. It's bad for the environment, unethical, theft, and will never be as freaky as me. It is inferior in every way

[shamblespirate]

[princeofalderan]

This tweet reminds me of these two for some reason.