#REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS CAN SEE THIS ONE
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mo-ok · 1 year ago
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Suke Sentai
🔴 Makkaranger 🔴
bonus important addition:
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xxplastic-cubexx · 29 days ago
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Hi!! Your Cherik is so good and gorgeous 🤩🤩 If you don't mind wanna try to draw some Fall of X Cherik please?
thank you so much !!
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i have a couple of ideas relating to the fall of x period specifically since theres. A Lot i wanna play with, so i hope this lil thing may be a satisfactory start :]]
and the obligatory bonus:
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#xmen#xmen comics#fall of x#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#erik magnus lehnsherr#max eisenhardt#professor x#magneto#snap sketches#for clarity on of this tag ramble im calling magneto max OK ok#sorry it took me a while to answer- ive been busy this week !#but yah like i said theres a lot of Fall Of X moments i wanna poke at#one i really wanted to doodle around was max's time with the shadow king from Resurrection of Magneto#the third issue is prob my fave in general if im so tbh .... but i wont prattle bout that ill go back to my previous prattle#i dont think i have a comic in mind prob just a doodle with shadow charles....#i mean if im devious enough i can def turn it into a comic but for now i just know i wanna do something with that#honestly even this moment i might revisit when i have more time to draw something. a lil better#i dont hate this its a sound start- but i THINK i wanna draw a smooch. a lil kiss. idk we'll see#cause im cheeky like that. 'will this be the last time i see you' 'girl idk we can kiss about it though' etc etc#god not to get off topic but im so curious what will happen with these two ... but thats for a diff post i guess#honestly if you guys have any runs i should read lemme know !! i just finished way of x and bar that ive just been reading the 60s issues#i have a couple on my list i wanna check out but im always excited to look into recs if yall think theyre worth it !!#but ya. thats all from me for now#my time is so finite this week i hope i can draw these sillies again soon .. i have a lot of ideas i fear#maybe i can sneak in one more doodle tonight ... <- doubtful
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oifaaa · 8 months ago
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Wait shit just thought of something
(If you're about to comment any of the other bats just know you are wrong)
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sereniv · 6 months ago
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Can someone who is NOT a zionist tell me why Jewish people have so much conspiracy and hate? when did it start and why? how and why did it spread?
Preferably someone who is jewish or really knows what theyre talking about answer
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year ago
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You're mine now, old man.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#a-qing#xiao xingchen#A-qing's story kicks off so strong. You really get a sense that she feels strongly attached to xxc during the pre-empathy scenes#and that she has a strong sense of loyalty and perseverance with strong survival instinct#but then you see her before all the tragedy and you *immediately* learn she is a clever trickster!#She follows xxc not out of gratitude but out of a sense that this guy is her meal ticket.#xxc is kind and strong but most importantly *noble*#she can smell the self-sacrificing bright eyed hope on this stranger. She knows the mere fact she's a young blind girl means#he will protect her. The fact he gives her a little money doesn't hurt her justification but tbh she would have followed all the same#a-qing is *the* catgirl of all time actually. Follows you for the fact you provide food and shelter. Opportunistic. May grow to be loyal.#That's not even getting into the parallels here between these two characters and wwx (who is seeing these events play out)#the yi city trio are arguably the three split aspects of wwx: who he feels like (a-qing the opportunist) who he wants to be (xxc the noble)#and who he feels seen as (xy the vengeful).#one day I'll write a more robust analysis on that. prob in the tags though#(His a-qing parallels are also tied with the fact they both were street rat orphans who learned how to code-switch to be whoever#they need to be to feel safe. I have a lot more thoughts to share but augh another time...another time)
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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 6 months ago
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"What will you do once I pass away?" The question came out of the blue, but such strange questions were par for the course at this point. Gamigin was nuzzling to your neck when you spoke, but he wasn't phased.
"I'll revive you. Death won't be permenent in Paradise Lost for as long as I'm around to stop it." You were running a hand through his blue hair, playing with a strand of it.
"But what if you don't revive me? If you can't revive me? What will you do then?" The dragon stopped kissing up your neck and shifted so he would be at eye level with you on the bed. He looked confused and hurt which almost made you ashamed that you asked the question.
"My staff can bring anyone back from the dead."
"Ok, but I age and demons don't what about that? What if I get so old I want to die to end my mysery."
Gamigin looked even more confused by your words. He didn't quite understand why humans aged so fast. He pouted in thought and stared at the ceiling. After a while, with a stern voice he asks "How long do humans usually live for?"
You try to remember your anthropology classes and what the avarage age of death was for your country, but you just can't put your finger on it. "I don't know, 70 or something like that." "70! Only 70 years!?!" He pushed you to the bed and pinned you to it with a shocked expression. His mind was working overtime trying to calculate just how long that timespan felt like.
Finally, he turns to you and holds your hands softly kissing them both. He stares determined in your eyes. "You are going to have the most exciting life ever. I promise you. What do you wish to do before you die?"
You've never seen him so stern, but the question was one that you've many times asked yourself yet never seemed to have an answer to. Gamigin's glare was starting to intimidate you so you gently slap his face.
"Don't look at me like that! You're making me nervous! I don't know what I want to do before I die. I just kind of want to see where life takes me."
Gamigin smiles like he usually does and pins you to the bed with a hug. His staff, which he kept in one hand at all times, jiggled lively as you both collapsed on the cottage bed.
"Well then, I want to cuddle with you and rewatch the 'How to Train Your Dragon' trilogy. And then we can play blackjack and whoever wins has to wash the dishes after dinner!" Gamigin proclaimed before kissing your cheek and nuzzling into it.
"Who tought you blackjack?" It was strange hearing your usually innocent boyfriend putting forth the idea of blackjack of all things.
"My brother Buer. He also thought me the dishes strategy as well. Jokes on him, I won." His giggle was contagious and you two ended up just cuddling and watching movies for the better half of the night.
If your relationship with Gamigin thought you anything, it was that you didn't have to live through bombastic experiences to enjoy life. You were having the time of your life just being close to him.
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diamondsheep · 5 months ago
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The Mighty Wano Tiger 🐯⚔
This is my illustration for @opanimalszine, i really loved being part of this beautiful Zine 💚
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triglycercule · 3 months ago
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"killer. what is this supposed to be?"
"oh, i commissioned one of my fans to draw art of us! isn't it totally cute??"
"well, it's definitely... something."
"... no, it's cute. but how'd you pay for it? last i heard, your balance was..."
"..."
💜/💙/❤️
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seiwas · 11 months ago
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there is a very specific image in my head of early-mid 20’s iwaizumi hajime
#iwaizumi x reader#and he’s the guy taking on an internship in his senior year with minimum load for his classes#bc he’s planned it all out since starting college#you see him in parties because he has the time & he works so hard it’s only right he plays hard too#every time you lock eyes he gives you a small smile#there’s an air about him that isn’t cocky but isn’t too shy; a comfort that settles into his skin like he’s sure of who he is#—of what he wants & it definitely isn’t hauling up his drunk friends and a few acquaintances up his car#but some of them are your friends and you’re helping him so maybe it isn’t so bad#he drops you off with your roommate and you rarely see him after#until you spot him at some bar (again) and he’s wearing a tight fitting polo (it’s his uniform you later notice)#it’s a year or two after your graduation and when you lock eyes across the room there’s something so familiar yet wholly different#he’s confident now & maybe a little flirty too when he tells you he’s working as an assistant to shadow one of his mentors#you catch up for the rest of the night and your friends have long since gone ahead#he still knows what he wants and it’s to bring you home—not that way (not yet); you’re a little suspicious because#you know there’s /something/ but he drives you home like a gentleman. without really trying anything (and maybe part of you wishes he did)#it’s iwaizumi though and he knows what he wants—to ask you out properly (one he’s been thinking about since chance encounters in uni)#and he’s hoping that when he asks you can tell just how much he likes you#hajime#i want him so bad im crying#there is a whole workd of backstory to this but i got lazy typing it#shotorus.bubble
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luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months ago
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[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]
saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#GONNA START FORMATTING MY COMICS BETTER. W THE PROPER 'PREV' 'NEXT' LINKS#REALLY DIDNT EXPECT TO CONTINUE THIS SERIES BUT AAAUUUHH MY BRRAAAIN MY BRAIN IS SO IDEASSS. I HAVE 3 OTHER PAGES SKETCHED OUT#NO PROMISES ILL FINISH EM ANY TIME SOON OR EVER. MY WHIMS ARE THEIR OWN BEAST AND I ONLY DRAW ON MY WHIMS#THAT BEING SAID IF U COMMISSIONED ME ILL GEEETT TO YOUUU IM SORRYYYY. ART IS AN EMOTIONAL RELEASE FOR ME N BABY I HAVE EMOTIONS.#ESPECIALLY ABOUT GILLION TIDESTRIDER CHAMPION OF THE UNDERSEA HERO OF THE DEEP.for the desc here i put smth that i typed up in the tags of#another thing i made. i gotta make a proper Baby Gillion tag or smth. eventually.. eventually...I LOVE DRAWIN THIS LIL BABY GUY..#i also LOVE depicting the teachers as just being so fuckin mean. ofc theres variation in that. just like in all things.like the teacher her#idk if itll be mentioned but the octo lady is named Ms Octburn.an octopus pun based off the name of an actual councilor i had#when i was in elementary school i got bullied alot but teachers never did anything. i hated adults and didnt trust them.#but this councilor o mine was so genuinely sweet. i remember spending alot of time w her. she doesnt work there anymore.#but that one school adult that actually earns ur trust and is there for you when they can be.its SO important for a child i think#i hope she knows how much she helped me.youll see in the next page that ms octburn isnt perfect either.but she tries. they all try.somehow.#ALL these comics are gonna be inspired by somesorta experience o mine in the school system. school is so fucked up u ever thing abt that#AND GILLIOOOOONNN IN THE MOST FUCKED UP LITTLE SCHOOL OF ALL. MAINTAINED BY A CULT. CENTERED AROUND HIM. OUR CHOSEN ONE#I IMAGINE ALOT BANKS ON HIS SUCCESS. THIS IS THE WORLD. THE WHOLE WORLD. THE PROPHECY IS GOING TO COME TRUE N UR TELLIN ME#THAT ITS THIS LITTLE IDIOT THATS GONNA BE SAVING US? WHAT IF HE FAILS. IF HE CANT GET THIS RIGHT THEN HE WILL FAIL AND WE WILL DIE#WE NEED TO TRAIN HIM. WE NEED HIM TO LEARN. AND TO SUCCEED. OR ELSE WE'RE DEAD. WE'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD. I IMAGINE THAT MUST BE STRESSFUL#in other news i hope ppl actually giggle when they read these. they ARE intended to be comical. dark humor or whatever. like its also sad#this is intended to be a sad comic series. but a funny one too. does that make sense? god i hope so.saw some1 say they had flashbacks-#-reading this. like YES!! THE INTENDED EFFECT!! YOU GET ME!! i love seeing ppl get upset on this lil baby boys behalf. i LOVE seeing ppl-#-wail n weep n cry in the comments. i LOOOVE seeing ppl RELATE to baby gillion. and i love letting u all know that this wont be a happycomi#gillion gets his happiness arc in the actual show. this series is one of unfortunate events. teehehehe. do u guys remember that show#i keep listening to the lil songs from A Series of Unfortunate Events for inspiration. GOOD STUFF!!#anyway uuhh uhh thats all i got in my brain. for now. feed me ur comments give me ur input i NNEEEEEDD THHEEEMMMM
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cluescorner · 6 months ago
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I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc
#damian wayne#damian al ghul#damian al ghul wayne#batman#batfamily#for all of the issues that come with having Steph as your fave having too much wild shit happening at once is never one of them#btw I quite like The Boy Wonder Issue 1. wow shocker an artist and writer who I have liked everything they've ever done#has once again written something that I am enjoying with art that makes me want to be part of its world.#it's almost like Juni Ba is really freaking talented or something#like I have some problems with it but it seems like many of those are part of the point. Damian is learning that his siblings are more#three-dimensional than he realized and that is part of this 'coming of age' story merged with fairytale#so I can't be mad at the oversimplistic defining of Dick and Jason and Tim until the conclusion of the series. that might be the point.#I hope that the series will address Steph as a Robin but if not then frankly it's not an issue unique to this series.#I'll be annoyed and disappointed but ultimately roll with it like I am with Babsgirl being here. There's too much good stuff here to get#hung up on shit that seems to be almost an editorial mandate at this point. at least that's where I'm at.#I am also very sorry that Chip Zdarsky is massacring your boy. he has 'X (Tim for him) is the best Robin so everyone else must suck' diseas#where a writer really likes one specific Robin and in trying to uplift them demeans all of the other Robins. instead of like...just writing#for that one character only or alternatively not demeaning the other characters in order to make his blorbo look good#it's wild because I actually think his writing for Tim is pretty solid. but he's not writing a Tim series. he's writing a Batman series.#and if you are going to write a Batman series and include other Batfamily members you need to actually write them well.#instead of assigning them like 2 personality traits while Tim gets to be a whole character#I accept that behavior in fanfic where I have lesser standards because it's fucking free. not a comic run that wants me to pay#tens of dollars in order to understand what the fuck is going on. he's been going for a while now it's gotta be a lot of money.#I can buy Steelworks with that money. I can see John Henry and Natasha Irons in a trade. Fuck you Chip.#it's why it takes such a special person to write a good ensemble story/a good Batfamily story. you have to be good at writing a LOT#of different characters. which I don't think most people are. I sure as hell am not. I can write maybe 3 at a time confidently well.#and you also have to give all of them at least SOME love or else people will be upset that you aren't focusing on their fave#and also the writing as a whole will suffer. Chip Zdarsky is a pretty good Tim writer. I'd maybe read a Tim solo written by him.#I would not read a story focusing on multiple characters that I like written by Chip Zdarsky. because every character who isn't Tim#is at least a bit weak/inconsistent/out of character INCLUDING FUCKING BATMAN. THE NO. 1 GUY MOST ARE HERE FOR
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scissorcraft · 5 months ago
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i really want to make isat friends…
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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 2 months ago
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the thing i love about bill cipher is that even after i've learned all of this stuff about him, seen him at the most vulnerable he'll ever get, seen him at his most innocent, i still can't give a flying fuck about trying to justify his actions. yes he's traumatized, yes he was twisted into what we know today, and while it gives a semblance of context to why he did what he did, it doesn't matter. he still ruined ford's life. he still drove and baited multiple humans to suicide. he still tormented every human he saw as his ticket out of the consequences of his own actions. he still took delight in his actions. he was willing to commit genocide for fuck's sake!!! (freezing all of the humans into statues). trying to explain away what he did does not get rid of what he did, but it certainly puts it in perspective. you won't be catching me being a bill apologist any time soon <3
#gravity falls#bill cipher#the book of bill#pleaseeee dont kill me guys#also if anyone tries to twist this and apply it to ford i WILL be setting myself on fire#because like. i've seen many people hate on him because of what he did objectively#but the difference between ford and bill is that ford did not LIKE it. let me break down things ford has done @ stan that ppl dont like:#1: he was the favorite child hands down (not ford's fault. he was a kid. he was shoved into the role by his father)#2: considering leaving stan behind for west coast tec (which we dont even know was his intention. what if he wanted to bring stan with him?#what if he was going to ultimately turn the offer down? what if he went and still kept touch anyway? speaking as a guy who grew up#gifted in a poor neighborhood; college is your TICKET outta there. you'd do anything to do so--BACK ON TRACK)#3: didnt defend stan when he was being kicked out (he thought stan sabotaged his and his fams ticket out of poverty. of COURSE he's pissed!#also he was 17. of COURSE in the moment he wasnt going to take his scrawy ass and stand up to his 6'6 abusive ass of a father. would YOU?#4: told stan to take the journal (ford was on the brink of death and insanity. all he had left was STAN to trust. it also wasnt him saying#to have stan stay away from him forever--it was just to take the JOURNAL somewhere. he NEVER said he COULDNT come back!#do you REALLy think that FORD could have explained all that properly when he has beeen TORTURED FOR WEEKS ON END? I DIDNT THINK SO!#anyways. the point is that everything the fandom uses to villanize ford is in fact a result of circumstances outside of his control#and while you can argue that bill is the same; compare the damage they have done. consider how their trauma impacted them as people.#think about how bill took his trauma out on everyone around him. about how even now he still feels no remorse in that prison.#think about how ford tried to FIX his mistakes. think about how he is human; how he acted in spite of his misery#think about what that fucking triangle did to that six-fingered old man.#....okay! that was a lot. lets hope no one sees this!!
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clowningaroundmars · 2 months ago
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Hobie1610 pt. 3
part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol
not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf
in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!
>pt. 1 here<
>pt. 2 here<
♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧
By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.
Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.
Just his luck, of course.
But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!
So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.
… Kind of.
That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…
That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.
No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.
It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.
Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.
So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…
Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.
He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.
Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.
Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.
Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.
It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.
It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.
Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.
Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.
He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.
The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.
He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)
Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.
Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!
In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.
Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.
Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.
What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.
The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.
From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.
No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.
No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.
Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!
He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.
He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.
Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.
Shit!!!
Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!
... Okay, plan B!
Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.
Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.
The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.
One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.
Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.
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The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.
Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.
They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.
The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.
He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.
“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.
“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.
Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.
Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.
The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.
Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.
“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”
Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.
“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.
He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”
“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.
They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.
Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.
The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.
They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.
After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.
“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.
Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.
“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!
Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?
Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.
“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”
Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.
He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”
Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”
“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”
“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”
Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”
Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”
Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.
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“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”
Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”
Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”
“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.
Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.
Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”
Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”
Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”
“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”
Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”
Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”
Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”
Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”
Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.
Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”
Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”
“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”
“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.
They both laughed.
“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”
“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.
“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”
It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”
Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.
“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.
Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.
He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.
And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.
A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.
He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”
He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.
“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”
Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.
It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.
“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.
“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.
“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”
The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.
“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”
“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.
Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.
“Uh. What--”
Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”
Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.
Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!
Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”
Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”
The world screeched to a halt.
Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”
Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”
Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”
Damn. Damn it all.
Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”
Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”
Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.
“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”
Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”
Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.
“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”
“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”
Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”
Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”
The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”
Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”
Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.
But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.
The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.
He was standing so close to him! Oh god!
The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.
Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.
“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.
All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.
Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.
Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.
Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.
Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.
Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.
After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.
“Damn. There you are,”
Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.
Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”
The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.
“Hobie!”
Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”
“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.
“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”
“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”
Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.
Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.
With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.
“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.
“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.
“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.
“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”
“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”
Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.
Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.
“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.
Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.
“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…
Miles: gonna*
MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]
Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE
MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)
Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects
MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..
Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn
Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates
Miles: It be ya own people
From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.
From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.
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maxthesillyy · 3 months ago
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thinking about. i dont know how to phrase this really but. chloe and frank.
like. when Chloe killed Frank i (, personally,) feel like her guilt from it was less because she killed Frank, and More because she Killed Someone (and their dog).
but!!! thats not to say she didnt feel guilty for killing Frank. because she definitely did. because on some level. despite everything. despite all of his shitty behavior. a part of her still cared for him. that tiny 15-17ish year old part in her still cared for him.
because that 15-17ish year old with intense abandonment issues in her only had. a small handful of people in her life that actually cared for her, and when THOSE few people aren’t even doing the best job at it— it’s no shit that Chloe’s standards for Good Friends are going to be Immensely dropped.
and so. it’s kind of like what happened with Rachel, but WAY less intense. when she found someone who didn’t hate her, and was willing to hang around her—after so so long of people hating her and not wanting to be around her— it makes sense that part of her would kinda latch onto them a little bit.
and so, even after all of the shit she’s learned he did— even when Frank starts to hate her— even when he threatens Max and her’s lives— part of her keeps remembering him as one of the few guys who stuck around when no one else did.
it’s just that. no matter how bad the person— if you’ve known someone for years, and they were one of the only nice people to you in a town where theres like. four people that are nice to you— it’s gonna hurt if you kill them. even if it was self defense. even if it was entirely their own fault— even if you two aren’t on even remotely good terms anymore.
ESPECIALLY for such a sentimental person like Chloe. taking that in consideration it makes me wonder. maybe she didn’t feel bad for killing Frank. maybe she felt bad for killing the person Frank used to be to her. but maybe she realized that That Frank already died long ago.
but yeah. im mentally ill. take everything i said with a grain of salt considering it is 12:07 AM.
#my thoughts are a mixture of coherentness but also just enough of radio static that i cant write much of it out Correctly#but anyways dont you think it’s a little fucked that.#and maybe im reading it wrong but#like.#she really wanted to be friends with him in bts#she was really put that position#god idk#feel free to discuss about the whole. “chloe felt bad for killing Somebody not just frank” thing. that’s not something im 100% set in stone#with LOL. im open to other interpretations of it#that isnt to say the rest of this isnt open to discussion— but that part In Particular is#this post is mostly about how “frank was chloes friend” more than anything#it’s about how. out of the entire town. the shitty drug dealer is one of the guys who gives an actual shit about her#and about how. something happened in between BTS and LIS to make them hate eachother#like YES the 5000 dollar debt but that just CANT be it can it? was it rachel’s disappearance that destroyed them?#or did frank start declining after the whole dameon thing??? WHAT CHANGED THEM…..#anyways im sure im not the first to think of this and im ready to hear other peoples opinions on it#SCREAMING AND CRYING BC CHLOE IS LITERALLY SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER BUT PEOPLE ARE TOO MISOGYNISTIC TO SEE IT RAHGDHSGSHGA#if i had a nickel for every time i said “even” “despite” or “because” in this post i’d be rich#life is strange is a game about tragedy. and. misogyny.#ALSO TAKE IN CONSIDERATION. if u read this far.#that chloe likely met frank Before she was Really Truly convinced that there was zero hope for her to find somebody who cared for her#so it took a lot less effort for someone like frank to leave an imprint on chloe atp of her life.#and also partly why it was So Much More intense with rachel#hoping to god this is coherent#lis#life is strange#chloe price#frank bowers#rachel amber#…. i really doubt it will happen
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compacflt · 1 year ago
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in regard to the icemav convo about american made cars: I think it would be funny if after mav gets his regular license, ice buys him a truck that they can use for transporting stuff to the hangar and when he gifts it to mav all the man can do is laugh bc stamped across the ass is MAVERICK. It’s a 2023 ford maverick (in area 51 bc I’m partial to that color)
and mav likes it, but he doesn’t love driving it bc it’s so big (and he just likes being a passenger princess too much), so ice drives it mostly which inspires a whole lot of jokes about ice liking having maverick’s name stamped on his ass. bradley gags from the other room every time.
if it matters to u, i agree with this hc 150% on rhetoric grounds. thank god for your mind.
however i would like to raise the issue that recent american pickup trucks have become non-useful, overexpensive, and suburban-coded in a way i think ice and mav would reject. the ford maverick was built with the intention of dropping kindergarteners off at school, not of actually doing hard labor. see below infographic for what I mean.
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It’s a fucking travesty. Trucks are so ugly and useless now. the maverick is not immune to this. (maverick below)
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what good is having a fucking truck if it can’t even hold two REGULAR ASS BIKES in the bed. & when the bed is empty the chassis is unbalanced in a way that leads to more accidents etc. (tbf that was true in the 70s/80s too but im feeling more hateful towards modern trucks rn). In short—the modern American pickup truck is no longer useful, it’s a way to virtue signal to other Americans that you *think * you know what hard labor is, even when you’re driving around in a glorified odyssey with a teeny tiny bed that can barely hold a couple bags of mulch for the back garden
ice & mav don’t even have any little kids anymore, i think they’d consider a backseat useless & a waste of space
SO i would like to offer you a Compromise, which is that ice & mav buy either (or both) a 1974 ford maverick AND/OR a 1990 ford maverick
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for the Funny Name & coolness factor (& the “making Bradley vom cause of how cute his parents are” factor), and then soup up, like, a 1984 Chevy C10 for actual towing/hauling purposes.
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