#p: we're still here

[clowningaroundmars]

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.

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.

“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.

[leveragedlibrarians]

Alright I have now actually been working in a bank for a while and I gotta say,,,,,, it kiiiiiinda takes the drama out of Leverage.

Like. Do you know how easy it would be to rob us? Currently the only alarm that requires a code has been permanently disabled for over a month due to construction on the upper floors. The key cards that let you access the vault are given to the tellers- aka the college kids who let just about anyone in if they ask. Hell, I've given spare keycards to employees I didn't even recognise because I'm bad with faces and didn't want to be rude, they were wearing the company color so I just said sure here you go. There's just physical keys lying around everywhere. We also technically have a vault inside the vault that only head tellers can access, but I have never seen it closed.

Like. Robbing us wouldn't take an episode, it wouldn't even take a whole scene. Parker would be downright offended if she came to rob us. She wouldn't even have to crawl through any air vents, pick any locks, anything- literally just wear blue and ask politely to be let into the vault.

We would disappoint Parker so bad

[msmc-796-official]

-I managed to finally contact the HRA division with me to stop firing at your people. For the love of Christ-the-Buddha get your asshole commander away from me she won't stop screaming slurs in languages I don't understand at me over the comms channel we're stuck in

Who in the-?! Oh, wait, shit, that's right, I forgot you were still awake in there. Christ-the-Buddha Almighty, that scared me.

Are you sure that's still Kennedi screaming? She (or, rather, her unconscious - and hopefully not lifeless - body) and her molten wreck of a Caliban have been with us at MSMC-148's drop site for like two hours now, waiting for pickup. Slipshod managed to pry your casket outta that slag heap you used to call a Genghis Mk. 1 and get you connected to a "life support" of sorts on one of their backup generators, but if you can still hear Kennedi's voice screaming bloody murder at you, then your systems might be fried worse than we thought. (No clue if that sort of thing is fixable or not...)

Hopefully the Albatross will be here soon. Our distress beacon is still up and running, and they should more than have our coordinates by now. We'll all be out of here soon. (I hope.)

-- Angel

[todayisafridaynight]

do you guys think daigo had to make an apology video after his company got called out or whatever

[xxplastic-cubexx]

your origin story is so relatable i love it. as someone was too young to watch the original trilogy when it came out and didn't watch many cartoons or comics/superhero stuff growing up, by the time I got interested the MCU really seemed like the only worthwhile option around at first. and tbh I do commend marvel for making the avengers so fun to get into via the movies (even if the mcu doth get too much after a bit) because the more you learn about comics the more you realise that they're not the most compelling team (affectionate) in the first place so really good job. but anyway yeah had drifted into dc for a good few years and then I was shown the deadpool 3 credits (not the movie) and despite having no knowledge of the x-men, the backstage bloopers, the music and the beach divorce just really awakened something in me

i congratulate you on reading That Whole Mess i typed up thank you VJLEAKVJ BUT REAL... i actually remember catching my bro watching the first avengers movie with some friends and Vaguely getting interested then: even if i dont LOVE love the avengers now, i do thank it for being a gateway into comics as a whole :]

[walkingstackofbooks]

Either the Dunning-Kruger effect is real, or I'm getting worse at writing... But it's probably the latter, right? 😅

[daz4i]

it's been awhile since i was in any production i forgor how much of it - esp when you're close to the end - is just. doing the same things over and over again. maybe changing outfits sometimes. Man

[nightatthemuseum]

ive been at work 4 hours and have only had 9 customers this is crazy

[feline-evil]

I can't think of anything that could kill a generative ai system faster than letting it pull from blogs on here, its going to be fed so many erroneous callouts and pointless discourse posts that its gonna generate a way to speedrun offing itself

[sysig]

Your Weekly TV Guide

On Monday you can expect:

2:30 PM: Handplates

And Tuesday:

2:30 PM: Handplates

Wednesday:

2:30 PM: Star Control II - Helix +4:20 PM Bonus!: Helix shitpost

Thursday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Friday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Saturday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Sunday:

2:30 PM: SCII OCs

Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)

[izzy-b-hands]

I keep forgetting I can't seem to get the current version of xkit to work on my new laptop and going to do stuff that it let me do fjldksafjdlsaj

[blackjackkent]

OK, picking up more Baldur's Gate 3 because Hector is having a Very Bad Day and I feel like we should try to get him out of it.

I've been kind of struggling with how to play this creche storyline because I can't really figure out what Hector thinks is the right thing to do (mostly because I don't think he knows himself). Left to his own devices he has been a) listening to the advice of the dream guardian and b) trusting Lae'zel, but trying to do both at the same time has backed him into a corner, and he still doesn't really understand the potential consequences of either choice, so he's flying blind and just trying to get them all out alive.

So...we will go into the artifact and see what happens, I guess. O.O

Not really, game, but we don't seem to have any other choice at present.

Had a quick talk with all three companions before going in.

Lae'zel's commentary was exactly as zealous as we would expect: "The Undying Queen has spoken. Insert the artifact into the creche's planecaster. We will kill the threat inside, and I will have Vlaakith's eternal regard. She will cleanse me. *She will ascend me.*"

Gale just said, "We have our orders, from the queen of the githyanki herself, no less. Now might be the time to consider obeying them."

Karlach's commentary, however, is definitely the most in line with Hector's own thought process: "Not in the habit of arguing with gods, but I'm not sure what to do. Whatever might be 'corrupted' about the Prism, it's helped us thus far. Not sure I trust the gith queen not to crush us once we've done what she asks."

I think, honestly, Hector is very comforted to hear that he's not the only person baffled by this situation. Gives him a little more strength to keep going forward.

Narrator: Heat pulses out of the Astral Prism as it begins to flower.

Narrator: Your mind burns hot with excitement.

With a jolt, they are pulled forward, into the artifact, into the strange power it holds within.

And where they land...is familiar.

This is of course the same landscape Hector saw in his dreams when he has spoken to the guardian in the past. Amusingly, of all the things that have happened to him in the last twelve hours, this is probably the least surprising part.

Narrator: The concentration of psionic force is small but unmistakable - this must be a pocket of the Astral Plane.

A surreal experience, to say the least. At least Lae'zel seems excited about it:

"Boundless, timeless - like every dream that ever was, stitched together. It is home."

[datastate]

(sending this as an ask because it got WAYY too long to be a reply whoops) i really like your opinions on the routes!! especially on the ais waugh…. i am planning on playing kanna's routes whenever i eventually replay this summer + i am excited to see what they entail…. but yeah overall i really like your thoughts and man do i need to replay yttd T_T it has been so long. (+ this is where the reply turned into a small ramble about qtaro because the autism) plus your comment about how the main games have gone + the qtaro thing. sorry i am ill about him. glad to see someone who understands his intent there because although i am not active in fandom ANYMORE i used to see so many people absolutely hating him for that (<- like obviously not the best way of going about things but he had intentions. okay?) (also i would like to make the comment of although in 8th grade i had intense hyperfixation on alice, ever since my first playthrough in 6th grade (HOW HAS IT BEEN THAT LONG?!) qtaro has + always will be my favorite sorry society….). i still remember when 3-1b came out + so many people were like "oh maybe qtaro is not deplorable" meanwhile i was over here #1 qtaro fan sobbing. sorry this is so long

(in response to this ask! also, for my own sake, i've broken up replying this into little sections :] <3 but i don't mind at all!!!)

REPLAYING YTTD

oho...!! i do think even a general replay (without seeing other routes) is really worthwhile to get a better feel for the characters & see how you can recontextualize things they're doing/have said at the time... i love combing through to see what nao and kai were up to in particular just before the main games <3

while i do think there was more that nankidai could've stood to do to differentiate the two routes particularly to make kanna & shin's separate routes feel like an actual choice, i do think that what small things are changed are still worthwhile & cool to see! i hope you enjoy your replay!!! :D

Q-TARO

YEAH exactly... i'm really sad that it's taken until his literal death to truly appreciate him as a character when more morally ambiguous characters like... well. shin, keiji, and even kai (though i'd honestly argue that most people don't see kai for who he is, you know; rather they place emphasis on his attractive appearance...) -- what they've done & how they behave are excused because they're, frankly, thin enough to care abt.

i've gone on about this before, so i won't linger much more than i need to, but i find it so strange that most people don't seem to recognize that - if not in the moment, i can understand that everyone's emotions are in a swirl. even the player's, but in chapter two when he says he felt a connection w kai - q-taro is autistic. and this definitely makes how he approached things in the first main game all the more understandable, personally... being so blunt about it when he'd settled on it being the clear solution, he even outright says that he doesn't want to see any of them just resign themselves right away to being voted out! & then we learn in ch3 as well that he's also experienced suicidal ideation which just lends so much more value to what he says...!! he doesn't want anyone to die, but certainly not with the belief that it's the only option they had. he wants them to at least have the chance to fight, just in case. and he's willing to hold himself to the same standard!

of course, first impressions mean a lot, but i feel like people saw this and completely missed the entirety of chapter 2 where he quickly warms up to gin afterward & even apologizes to sara for all she's had to deal with, despite it not being his fault, and expressing that he wishes there was something he could do even irt miley... he cares so much abt the kids within the group, even if it takes a lot of courage to support strangers when he knows he has other kids waiting at home for him... he still tries his damnedest, you know? i feel like there's something about that you have to respect. even when he's attempting to leave, you visibly see how conflicted he is about it & it's why sara can pick up on it so early, because he doesn't want to do this, it just feels like the only option... which. well. there's something to say about how gin's the one who's freely handing out tokens and yet q-taro goes to someone like sara first. someone who's been steadily pushed into the figurehead of the group, who is clearly strategic... versus someone who resembles the people q-taro's trying to get back to. hmmm. i sure wonder what the implications are here. (& i have a post for you. that you might enjoy... i've been meaning to write it for a while but i forget. but the idea is there.)

but. yeah... they didn't give him much room to grow in their mind after this point, which is so disappointing & definitely created a very toxic space. beyond that, it played into general southern stereotypes of him being the only homophobic/transphobic one, which i honestly often find treatment of to be in poor taste (it can be used well in stories, but you shouldn't just. throw bigotry on characters simply because you hate them...) -- but also just. blatantly untrue?

even just. everything about his treatment of people in general being so understanding once you explain something to him, or his desire to be a good person worthy of looking up to (which is why it doubly wrecks him when he sees himself become disabled/suicidal in the hospital, because he's become such a rotten person and he feels it and it's a terrible, terrible cycle) for the orphanage kids & to prove something to the parents who abandoned him that he's still worthy of being loved too... he believes in equivalent exchange in social dynamics, only ever giving out what you can take, just... in what world would he be so insensitive?

and this isn't even bringing up the fact that he has slightly longer than shoulder-length hair + nonetheless treats kai/mishima with a lot of respect and care even with them both generally being considered (physically, as well as in their demeanor) strange. combined with the fact that he relates to kai on the basis of being "lonely" rather than "loved" for what's unchangeable about them... there's so much there to read into. not just with autism or ptsd, but. gestures. transgenderism, being mixed, so on. things that sara had people to help support her with prior to the death game, or that she lacked altogether (if she's fully japanese)

but i digress! i'm glad that ch3-1 skirted some hatred toward him, but i definitely agree -- he's such a well-rounded characters even prior to that & it deserved to be acknowledged...!!

[elizabethrobertajones]

Ship asks: 3.: Who cooks? Who cleans up? Who's banned from the kitchen? (for the Frogicule)

FROGICULE. Omg. Congrats on coining that :'D

Frog can cook, will cook, and enjoys doing it for people socially enough to lay on a feast. Which means she's always banished from clean up for having done too much already.

I tried imagining Zero doing the dishes and it was extremely funny and she WOULD get better at it and approach it with scary enthusiasm but perhaps also break even more plates once she reaches that state.

[imaginaryanon]

drowning my sorrows (watched the finale of a silly little comedy show)(how is this thing a comedy btw. genuinely. fucking hello??)

[daz4i]

I've had aventurine for only a few hours and didn't even finish building him yet but he's already my highest crit damage character. help?