#meet-cute and meet-hate

[purple-goo-writes]

Acrobatics of the Heart

...I should be sleeping

but I am plagued with an idea for Dick/Danny (Green Elephants? Death Defying? Dead Circus? Whichever is the ship's name.)

Just a meet-cute where Danny is the cute new single dad in Bludhaven and Dick is his daughter Ellie's (Dani) Gymnastics Teacher.

Cause (19 to 20-year-old) Danny moved to Gotham for a new start/college and the fact that Dani (now Ellie) is now like five years old (her actual age) instead of being physically a few years younger than him. So basically new start, portal has been dismantled and Danny has a mini-portal for needing to pop into the ghost zone for king business. Right now he just wants to get his engineering degree, cause I stan Danny Is Smart.

Dick quit the police force (RIC NEVER HAPPENED CAUSE FUCK THAT TIMELINE) and becomes a gymnastics/acrobatics teacher at the local (newly rebuilt thanks to Bruce Wayne) Recreation Center and teaches ages 5 and up. A new year, a new group of Little AcroBats for Dick to teach!

He is rather fond of little Ellie Nightingale, she is a little gremlin that kinda reminds him of Jason when he was younger. She's a little spitfire, and he somehow misses meeting her parent during pick up and drop off.

Until Ellie finally drags Danny over to meet her favorite teacher, Mr. Grayson!

[nonomives]

I did something

[chiquilines]

Public garden study date!!

[agabus]

astarion is so fucking stupid he's like bleh i'm so mean i don't care about other people i'm obnoxious. and also i definitely hate kids because they're gross and get dirty and anyway we don't have TIME to save the little tiefling girl. oh fine whatever i'll help you. well yes of course i'm happy she's safe. that's different though she's a thief and extremely impulsive so we're kindred spirits i still don't like kids. well of course i like MOL. she's adorable. come on, she's like eleven years old running a little gang, that's cute as all hells. and mattis of course i like little mattis, sure his techniques could use some polish but he's got the makings of the greats, oh arabella? arabella's here? out here alone in the dark? no, it's okay, sweet girl, we'll find your parents. would you like to stay with us? oh fuck you, what are you smiling at?

[ruporas]

special operatives (silly interaction beneath read more)

[ID: Digital Art in color of Trigun Maximum, characters included are Wolfwood, Elendira, and Legato in a casual meeting situation. The piece consists of orangey yellow lighting and purple shadows. Wolfwood sits on the left side, facing Elendira who’s on the right. He’s seated on a plain wooden chair with one knee up and he’s holding the strap to his Punisher in his left hand while his right sits against his thigh, He has an irritated expression as he speaks to Elendira. Elendira is sitting in a fancier seat, her right arm rests against Wolfwood’s propped up knee, her left hand holds her suitcase. She’s sitting cross legged with an amused expression. Legato can be seen in the back at the center of the image in his mobile body case, one of his eyes shown to be glaring at Wolfwood. End ID]

[ID: Sketch, uncolored comic. Elendira says to Wolfwood, “I’m not telling you to dedicate yourself to him, but just accept the situation at hand. We could get along better if we were on the same page.” Wolfwood responds, “Don’t peg me me for an optimist. I’m not dumb. But, I’m also not going to just live in resignation. Plus, I don’t have any interest in getting along with ya.” Elendira coos, “Aw, you sure? I have a wonderful shoulder to cry on when the weak people you’re trying to protect eventually dies in the coming months. Though, I guess it’s fine. Someone like you might just die before then anyway...” She snickers in her hand while Wolfwood is speechless and just glares. Legato is faintly drawn in the back, glaring at Wolfwood, muttering “worthless” repetitively. End ID]

[kristalijah]

HE'S CHECKING OUT GARY!!!! I REPEAT, HE'S CHECKING OUT GARY!!!!

[beauspot]

The 8 Elements of All Great Rom-Coms

Two Loveable Leads

No matter the stakes, situation, or scenery, the audience has to root for [these] two characters

A Meet Cute

Essential to the basic plot of every romantic comedy is the moment the characters meet

A Unique, Troublesome Situation

Call it a complication, a troublesome situation, or set of intricate stakes, no matter the nomenclature there has to be something that pushes your characters together and pulls them apart

At Least One Great Sidekick

Every great rom-com requires an incredible sidekick

Relationship In Jeopardy

A key scene in every romantic comedy is the moment the core relationship is put to the test, pushed so far to the limits that everything is in jeopardy of falling apart

The Lightbulb Moment

The moment of realization is crucial to any film in the rom-com genre

A GRAND GESTURE OR EPIC LINE

If you write a rom-com and don’t include the grand gesture or incredible romantic line, did you even write a rom-com?

HAPPY ENDING

A happily ever after is a staple of all romantic comedies…

coming soon 🙃

Inspired by “The 9 Elements of All Great Rom-Coms” - ScreenCraft

[miss-americana-reputation]

love her madly

patrick verona x reader

warnings- smut 18+, fluff, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, spitting, name calling aka degrading, dacryphilia

inspired by love her madly- the doors

—————————————————————

“i got it.” i call out as patrick knocks on the door. “hi.” i smile and open it to see him smiling there. “hey.” he smiles back, softly kissing the side of my lips. “you’re early.” i point out, inviting him in. “wanna make a good impression.” he responds.

“okay, dad.” i call out, pulling him deeper into the house. i drag him into the living room to where my dad sits, watching tv. “yeah- oh.” he says, looking at us.

“this is patrick, my boyfriend.” i smile. “nice to meet you, sir.” he reaches to shake his hand. my dad shakes it and looks him up and down before letting go.

eventually i pull him away and into the kitchen where my mom is finishing up. “who’s this?” my mom smiles. “patrick, my boyfriend.” i introduce him. “nice to meet you patrick.” she smiles. “nice to meet you too, ma’am.” he smiles.

“dear.” she changes her attention to you. “hm?” i hum. “remember, we gonna have to cut dinner a bit short. the patterson’s invited me and your dad to a cocktail party.” she explains. “got it. i’ll clean up.” i softly smile. “perfect,” she says, wiping off her hands, “go make the table while i finish up.” she smiles.

i nod and pull out plates and silverware, handing the plates to patrick. we set down plates and cups. “wanna go get my dad?” i whisper to him as i follow behind him with silverware while he sets cups down. “i think he wants to kill me.” he whispers back. “i’ll go.” he sighs as he finishes and i smile as he leaves.

i help bring the dishes to the table as they come into the kitchen.

eventually we all get situated and we start eating. “food’s lovely, ma’am.” patrick smiles at my mom. “thank you.” she responds. “so any plans for after graduation?” my dad asks. “i’m planning on working at the music store at main street.” he smiles.

“oh isn’t that nice. been meaning to check that one out.” my mom smiles. we continue to eat for a moment, i softly take his hand under the table. i squeeze it one time for a check in, and he squeezes it back once to say he’s okay.

“so you do anything outside of school?” my dad asks. “yeah, i like to fix up cars, but your daughter seems to take up a lot of my time.” he answers, trying to get a laugh out of my dad. “oh. a future mechanic, huh.” he nods before eating.

dinner went by painfully awkward, eventually my mom and dad freshen up for the party and we finished eating then cleaning up.

“i think he hates me.” he sighs, carrying the last of the dishes to the sink. “he just needs to warm up to you.” i respond, washing off the plates. “do i smell like cigarettes? knew i should’ve not smoked today.” he asks.

“you’re fine, most dads don’t like their daughter dating people.” i smile. “hm. he thinks i’m a failure.” he sighs. “he doesn’t, i promise. he’s just tough.” i smile.

“okay, we’re heading out.” my mom walks into the kitchen. “okay.” i smile. “see you tomorrow. it was nice to meet you patrick.” my mom smiles. they leave as i finish up.

“okay.” i smile. he immediately presses his lips onto mine, lightly shoving me into the counter. “oh.” i hum against him. “sorry, i’ve been holding back all night.” he pants. i smile against him and pull him back.

he sneaks his hands down to my ass and he gropes them while he slips his tongue into my mouth, his easily winning dominance.

“pat.” i pant out. “hm?” he hums, moving down to my neck. “wanna go- fuck- upstairs.” i say. “okay.” he smiles. we move upstairs, stealing kisses and he slaps my ass a couple of times.

we reach my room and i pull him inside, quickly shutting and locking the door behind us. he pulls me on top of him on my bed. he connects our lips and it’s heated, clashing teeth and tongues fighting for dominance, which he quickly wins.

“please.” i moan, sneaking my hand down between us and palming him. his hand grabs mine and he flips us over. “did i say you could?” he spits. “sorry.” i apologize. “naughty girl.” he says.

he moves so he’s standing and i’m laying on the bed. “come on. kneel.” he demands. i follow his commands and kneel before him. “can i?” i ask, motioning to his fly.

“yeah.” he nods. i undo his belt and unzip his fly, then pull down his pants just a little bit. he helps me and pulls down his black boxers. his member pops out, slapping against his stomach. “shit.” he sighs, stroking himself.

“please.” i whine. “what do you want?” he asks. “fuck my mouth.” i swap his hand with mine and slowly stroke him. “yeah? want to have you throat fucked?” he smiles and i nod.

i take him in my mouth and he slowly thrusts into my mouth. “shit.” he takes my hair in his hands and uses it as leverage. i moan against him and he tightens his hand. “didn’t anyone teach you to not speak with a full mouth?” he taunts.

he continues to use me while i look up at him. “fucking slut.” he groans. i squeeze my thighs together for a bit of friction. “fucking pathetic.” he lowly laughs.

“wanna tell me who’s your real daddy?” he slows down. he pulls out and i catch my breath. “y-you. you’re my real daddy.” i look up at him, with pure submission in my eyes.

“good little slut.” he says, snapping his cock back into my mouth. “jesus.” he groans as i play with his balls. he continues to thrust into my mouth so i gag around him.

he uses my mouth like i mean nothing to him. i squeeze my hips together even more, trying to cause some friction. “look at you.” he smirks at my thighs. that just fuels him as he continues to fuck me.

i moan against him and he lets out a loud groan. i meet his eyes as i feel drool slip out from the corners of my mouth. he continues to fuck me and some tears fall down my face.

“aw. pretty baby is crying? you look so pathetic. choking on daddy’s dick.” he taunts. “shit.” he sucks in a sharp breath. “getting close baby.” he warns.

his hips become sloppy as he gets closer and closer. “oh fuck.” he sighs. “you’re treating me so well.” he praises. i let him fuck me as he eventually pulls out.

he finishes himself by stroking his cock and his seed goes all over my face. “shit, fuck.” he sighs as he finishes. he calms down and softly taps his cock against my head.

“here.” he says and quick runs to my bathroom. he comes back with a towel and helps me clean up. “you look so pretty.” he smiles as i finish cleaning up. “thanks.” i smile.

i go and wash my face and get ready for bed. i finish and join him in bed. “hi.” i croak out a bit as i lay down against him. “hey.” he smiles back. “you’re gonna be able to talk?” he asks and pulls me against him. “maybe.” i smile.

he softly laughs and kisses the top of my head. “you know i can’t stay?” he whispers after a moment. “mhm.” i nod. “where you disappearing off to?” i ask. “probably the same bar as normal.” he answers. “okay.” i nod.

“i love you.” he whispers. “i love you.” i whisper back. “i’ll stay until you sleep, how’s that sound?” he asks. “that works.” i nod as i’m already half asleep. “i’ll take you out for lunch tomorrow.” he promises. “okay.” i softly smile. “mhm.” he nods.

———

[manitapaleta]

the Li-Wilson family is the cutest, change my mind

(you cant)

[storge]

Heroes (2024) 1.08

[clowningaroundmars]

heeyyy yaaalllll

so i was thinking to myself, i love punkflower. i really do.

what if there was a hobie in miles' universe and he didnt have to do the whole long distance relationship across dimensions thing, though? just keep his lil secret crush on spiderpunk a secret and keep it pushing, only to literally bump into his own hobie brown in 1610 one day?

wouldnt that be cool, guys?

wouldnt it? :)

wouldnt :) it :) be :) so :) cool? :) and so cute too?

:)

update: >part 2 here<

Miles was late.

It was his first day back, the very beginning of his junior year at Visions Academy and he was late. God damn.

His parents were really gonna kill him this time, no doubt about it. There weren't even any good Spiderman excuses he could use to weasel his way out of getting into trouble this time! He'd just have to cross his fingers and pray that his chemistry teacher for this year wasn't a total hardass like last year's English teacher.

Maybe he could make up some dumb excuse this time, try to wriggle his way into the professor's good graces with some blatant lie. Anyways, whose dumb idea was it to put him in a class so damn far from the entrance doors so early in the mor--

BRRRRRRING!

Miles tore around a corner just as the final bell rang throughout the mostly-empty hallways, inciting panic in his chest and making him nearly launch himself down another hallway just to get to his class.

In his haste, he nearly knocked over a very tall and very... familiar looking person that happened to be in Miles' trajectory. Luckily, bodies didn't end up colliding but the shock of having a person fly so quickly into their line of sight shocked the both of them into skidding to a sudden stop.

The tall person ended up dropping a textbook and what seemed like an enormous packet of papers, because sheets scattered absolutely everywhere, almost like snow.

Ugh. Of course.

They both stared down at the mess in the middle of the hallway floor for a beat.

Then, Miles exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.

"Aw man, I-I'm sorry! I just uh... here, lemme just--"

They both bent down to quickly scoop up the papers as Miles stuttered and spoke a hundred miles a minute, trying to apologize for the heart-stopping scare he caused. Just as Miles shuffled the papers together in his hands, he finally looked up at the unlucky student he almost football-tackled first thing in the morning... and nearly dropped the papers onto the floor again.

Kneeled right in front of him with papers and a textbook tucked under a skinny arm, long fingers nervously plucking up what was left of the rest of the packet, was none other than... Hobie Brown.

Oh. God.

This Hobie didn't seem to be Miles' Hobie, though.

(Miles' temperature rose a bit as he quickly thought: wait, my Hobie? That's not right, either.)

Instead of large freeform locs that tapered off like wicks, he was sporting long uniform locs that were piled up high in a loose ponytail on his head, most likely due to the school policy that stated boys needed to have hair above the nape of their neck. Miles kinda wondered about that policy, if he ever decided to grow out his hair; would pulling his hair up be enough? Or would they police his hair length and force him to cut it all off?

Well, turns out the answer was literally right in front of him. Another shock to the system right after the first one.

That was Miles' excuse, really. It was just so dang early in the morning and he really really wasn't thinking when he opened his mouth and basically shouted "Hobie?!"

It honest to god sounded like it echoed in the hallway.

He slapped a hand over his mouth, immediately chastising himself for the stupid mistake he made, mentally kicking himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!! He wasn't supposed to know this guy obviously, they hadn't even met in their dimension yet!

Hobie, for his part, didn't seem perturbed by this at all though. He took the papers from Miles' hands and straightened himself back up to his full height, offering a hand so that Miles could stand up too.

He shrugged shyly and hid behind a couple locs that happened to fall back into his face, holding the books and papers closer to his chest.

"Uhmmn yeah, sorry. I-I'm runnin' late to my first class so I can't really give any autographs right now. Maybe later... if we see each other, ok?"

Miles blinked owlishly. Did he just say... autographs?

And wait a minute... was this Hobie... American?

Miles' poor little sleep-deprived mind was being blown again and again. He really didn't know if he was ever going to recover from this.

Hobie started to back up and walk away so Miles held his hands up to stop him. "Wait wait wait, autographs? I'm not uh-- sorry, this is weird," he laughed, rubbing his neck. "Nah, man. That's cool. I don't really want any autographs. Are you uh-- are you famous, actually?"

It was this Hobie's turn to blink owlishly now, hesitating a bit. A non-pierced eyebrow was raised as he said, "I... I kinda am...?"

He turned and pointed out the giant window of the hallway that they happened to be standing by, and Miles craned his neck to peer outside.

It smacked him right in the face once his eyes landed on it: a giant billboard fixed atop a neighboring building that depicted Hobie Brown in a luxurious-looking perfume ad. He sported the same locs as he did in real life, wearing shiny-looking makeup and giving the viewer the fiercest, smokiest look Miles has ever seen from a model in a hot minute. He was clutching deep purple satin, wrapped in it, basking in it. A single perfume bottle with a deep purple bow on the neck was photoshopped next to him, matching the overall vibe of the ad.

Miles was rooted to the spot, absolutely gobsmacked. How in the world did he miss that?!

Distantly, a small echo of a conversation he had in what seemed like a lifetime ago floated up from a memory. "I was briefly a runway model" pulsed in his neural pathways for a quick second.

Slowly, the gears started turning in his head. Slowly, he turned back to his dimension's Hobie Brown, who was giving him a strange sort of look.

Miles awkwardly tried to gather himself up, waving his hands around as he struggled for a non-weird explanation to his very weird behavior.

"I-I mean-- ahahaha! Yeah I mean, obviously you're famous! I was just y'know-- playin' with you. Pulling your leg and all that, I guess... heh."

The strange dubious look on Hobie's face didn't budge. "...Right."

Miles coughed conspicuously, trying to change the subject. "But uh yeah, haven't seen you around this school much then! Are you... you in a different grade than me or...?"

The corner of Hobie's mouth twitched suddenly, and for a split second Miles wondered if he said something wrong.

But then Hobie chuckled a bit. "No, I don't think so? This is my first day here. Like... ever. So I'm not really surprised you haven't seen me before. I just transferred over."

Miles practically sighed in relief and nodded, hands in his pockets. "Right! Right, very cool. Welcome to Visions then, I guess. Uh... I'm Miles! Miles Morales. Nice to meet ya!"

He goofily stuck a hand out, which Hobie actually accepted. They shook hands for a second, and then Miles was suddenly taken aback by how cold his hand was against his own skin. It was a definite contrast to the warm and lanky body he remembered practically draped across his own, back in Mumbattan.

He forced those particular memories away for now.

This Hobie was smiling down at him, sad eyes set inside a seemingly genuine expression of fondness. "Cool. I'm Hobie. But, uh, it seems like you already knew that, so."

"Aha, yeah yeah! It just-- honestly it's just the shock of, uh, running into a major celeb in the middle of my school that really got to me, I think. Sorry. I probably look like a total weirdo right now!"

Hobie shook his head, and Miles took the opportunity to really study this guy now that the shock was over and the vibe was more chill. This Hobie was just as long and lanky as the punk anarchist Miles was already well acquainted with, but he held himself completely differently. Where Spider-Hobie was all confident strut and careless swagger, this Hobie seemed to be all reserved grace and... sadness? He definitely reminded Miles of a willow tree drooping down into a lake, beautiful but tragic at the same time.

Okay Miles, get it together, he thought, stop thinking this guy is beautiful. I mean, he is beautiful yeah... but c'mon man, focus!

Hobie's non-pierced lips were moving now, finishing a sentence that Miles most definitely did not catch.

Then, Hobie looked at him expectantly.

Oh shit. He just asked a question didn't he? Fuck.

"Uh, sorry... one more time?" Miles grinned as wide as he could, apologetic. Nice going, Morales, the humorless voice in his head chimed in. Definitely not convincing this guy you're an alien from outer space or anything!

Hobie huffed a laugh and cleared his throat. "Sorry, my fault. Sometimes I mumble and... yeah. Mom says I need to work on that," he sighed, then continued, "I was just wondering if you knew where room 301 was?"

Miles nearly jumped with the force of the realization that just hit him.

"301? Mr. Moriarty's class?"

"Y-yeah, that's the one," Hobie smiled, twirling a loc on one finger and tugging it a bit. Then he tucked it back behind his ear. "I'm actually so lost it's not even funny, I'm godawful at directions and like, navigating. I've been looking for it for like 20 minutes now--"

"That's where my first class is too! AP chem!"

Hobie seemed to brighten up a bit at that, straightening his posture up from his own self-conscious hunch. "Oh cool! We should probably get going then, if we don't wanna be more late than we already are."

Without thinking, Miles places a hand on Hobie's shoulder and steers them both towards a classroom right at the end of the hallway they were in.

"Of course, right this way! Pretty lucky you ran into me, huh? I can help you find your other classes later on if you want, too."

For the first time since nearly crashing into him, Miles looked up at Hobie and saw genuine happiness in his eyes as they grinned at each other and walked down the hall together.

"...Yeah," Hobie said, nodding slowly. "Yeah that'd be pretty cool. Thanks!"

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Their chemistry teacher ended up not being a total hardass after all! Especially when Miles rolled up with none other than Famous Model Hobie in tow, immediately causing a ripple of whispers amongst the students sat at their desks.

Mr. Moriarty was a short and stumpy old man with a kind face and a severely receding hairline. He took one look at Hobie after squinting at his attendance sheet, accepted Miles' quick explanation that they were late because Hobie's minty fresh enrollment got him all lost in these maze-like hallways, and excused their tardiness with a wave of a hand.

"It's the first day and you were very kind to help a new student out, Mr. Morales. You're both excused for today, but try not to make a habit of it, alright?"

Miles bobbed his head as he picked his way past rows of desks. "Absolutely, sir. No problem at all. Thanks a bunch!"

Hobie stuck close to him, and smiled a bit as the only two desks left empty in the whole room happened to be right next to each other, right up in the back of the class. Nice.

They took their seats and exchanged a couple of glances as they pulled out their notebooks, barely listening to their professor's quick introduction and class syllabus. Well, Miles was barely listening, anyways. He was too caught up in the euphoria of running into a dimensional variant of one of his friends, in Visions Academy no less! His mind started to wander a bit. Did a 1610 Gwen exist too? a 1610 Pavitr? Were they also here at Visions? And what was with these random stares he and Hobie were getting from their fellow classmates right now?

Every now and then a student's head would swivel back to glance in their direction, awestruck looks evident on their faces.

How famous was Hobie anyway?

Of course, there was that giant billboard conveniently placed within view of the school's back hallways near a busy intersection, but Miles really started to think. He sneakily pulled out his phone and swiped down to the lowest brightness he could in case the classroom's fluorescent lighting wasn't enough to hide the phone screen's own light.

He kept his face straight forward, eyes flicking to and from his typing that he was trying to conceal behind the student sitting in front of him. He typed Hobie Brown model, Hobie Brown perfume ad, Hobie Brown supermodel, getting absolutely nothing every single time. Well, nothing that looked like the Hobie Brown sitting next to him, who happened to be dutifully scribbling down some notes in his notebook. Miles looked down at his own empty sheet of paper and quickly copied his new friend, whipping out a pencil and hurrying to catch up with the lecture on the whiteboard before the professor moved on.

Groan. What gives? Was Hobie this super accomplished, totally famous supermodel or not? Maybe he wasn't on social media, oddly enough. Maybe he just started an illustrious career and happened to be famous only in Brooklyn right now? No, that didn't make sense. If he was some small-time influencer or whatever, people would not be asking for autographs so often that Hobie would just automatically assume anyone who recognized him wanted one. And the looks on these other kids' faces convinced Miles that... maybe something was missing. Maybe he's just not searching up the right terms?

Agh, if only Spiderman business didn't keep him totally detached from reality sometimes. He really felt like he and the rest of the world were on totally different planets. If he had any friends besides Ganke, he probably would've heard about Hobie by now.

He bit his lip in concentration, trying to multitask between forming theories and keeping up with the lesson in the front of the classroom.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of eyes staring straight at him that didn't belong to the other classmates he barely even knew. He glanced over at Hobie, who quickly looked away.

Was that... an embarrassed look on his face just now? Miles scratched at his jaw a bit, more confused than before.

That was weird. Whatever. Anyways...

Before long, class was over and the bell rang. Miles and Hobie both meandered slowly up to the door and hung around the outside, leaning against the wall as they compared schedules before they had to make their way to their next class.

"Dang," Miles lamented, clutching his own schedule and moving to slot it into the cover of his binder. "Looks like we don't share any more classes besides 1st period..."

Hobie stopped his hand and squinted at the sheet again, glancing back at his own. "Uhmm... nah, actually. I think we might have 6th period together? Right after lunch."

"Do we share a lunch period too, actually?" Miles asked excitedly.

Hobie made a small noise of triumph, a smile playing over his lips. "Yeah! 1st, lunch and then 6th. Okay. Better than nothing, right?"

Miles chuckled, shoving his schedule into the plastic and tucking it under his arm. "Definitely. We can eat together at the cafeteria if you want! I'll walk you to your next class though, since it's basically right around the corner."

Hobie shrugged his own backpack back onto his shoulder and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. His eyes were cast downwards as he grinned at the floor and said, "yeah, if you don't mind... that'd be pretty cool."

This guy sure does like the word cool, Miles thought, and away to Hobie's next class they both went. They both ignored the various whispers and stares in their direction. Miles was already used to it by now.

They walked together amiably, in near lockstep for a little while before Hobie finally spoke up again.

"... So... if you don't mind me asking... why are you so nice to me if you didn't know I was famous, then?"

It was an innocent enough question, but it kinda caught Miles off guard nonetheless.

He laughed nervously. "Uhh ahaha, whaddya mean? I did know you were famous! I just... y'know my brain doesn't work the best real early in the morning. I'm, uh. Sometimes I can be pretty weird, if you haven't noticed by now."

Hobie nodded slowly, digesting this information for a bit. "Yeah, you did recognize me in the first place, I guess. It's just weird, you're like... the first person I met that doesn't look at me like I'm made out of solid gold, though. That's all..."

They exchanged glances again, and Miles' brain was working into overdrive, thinking of an appropriate response.

Before he could open his mouth, they finally reached their destination and Hobie bumped Miles' shoulder with his arm, smiling.

"So, thanks. For, uh... this. All this."

Miles raised a brow at him. "Oh yeah, this is nothing. I just walked you over to your next class, no biggie. My class is right over here anyways, so--"

Hobie laughed and shook his head, the expression lighting up his facial features unlike anything Miles has seen on that face yet.

"No, Miles. Not just this. I mean, like..." Hobie dipped his head, a bashful sort of move. "I mean, like, being nice to me. Like forreal. I really appreciate this."

They looked at each other for a moment, something real warm growing in Miles' chest all of a sudden, something... familiar.

He was just about to casually brush the gratitude off a second time with a dorky quip, before some girl's screechy voice interrupted their private little moment out of nowhere. It honestly startled them both, and the nice warm atmosphere dissipated immediately.

"Oh. My. GOD!! Is that Hobie Jones? Like actually?!"

She giggled and bounded up to them, blatantly ignoring Miles to insert herself between them and crowd into Hobie's space. She coquettishly asked for a selfie with him, promising to tag him on social media. The sudden commotion unfortunately attracted some other students who then took their cue to also bother Hobie for autographs, selfies, throwing compliments left and right.

Miles backed up out of the crowd, eyes still on Hobie as he watched the poor guy metaphorically slip on a mask, the very same that Miles saw when they first met not 2 hours ago. It was a sad, detached sort of look, and Hobie was forced to hunch in on himself to meet his fellow students' heights as they snapped selfie after selfie. His lips formed a smile all the while. His eyes did not.

A pang of sympathy hit Miles as he slowly turned away and made his way down to his own classroom without so much as a goodbye. He shrugged to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, he knew how that felt, just trying to mind your own business and live your life, do what you have to do-- and being stopped by nearly every living being within a 50 ft radius wanting their photo ops and their babies kissed.

Miles smiled to himself as he shouldered his way past other students and sauntered into his class, right on time. The bell rang as he reached his desk, and he pulled out another notebook out of his bag before the realization finally hit him with the force of a truck.

Wait... Hobie JONES?!

Miles quickly glanced around at his surroundings and mentally kicked himself yet again for choosing a seat so close to the teacher's desk, almost right up at the front. Damnit!

But the teacher wasn't in the classroom just yet, most likely making a quick run down to the printer down the hall to make copies of the class syllabus or something.

Okay, Morales. Gotta be quick.

He hastily pulled out his phone yet again, one eye on the door. He quickly typed in Hobie Jones model in his browser's search box, letting out a breath as search results loaded up and gave him exactly what he was looking for this entire time.

Bingo.

Hobie's face popped up in the image search previews, all sorts of cool and striking photoshoots lit up in all kinds of different ways. And the very first link at the top of the page? Hobie's own Flickstagram.

With a shaky hand, Miles tapped the link and impatiently waited for it to load, for his phone to get with the program and just open the damn app already. He kept glancing every so often at the door yet again, praying that the printer or copier-- or whatever-the-hell that was keeping the professor away from the class-- would keep them away for just a second longer.

He finally cast his gaze back down onto his own Flickstagram app and his heart nearly dropped out of his chest.

At the top, right next to Hobie's own smoldering profile picture was his username: hobiemjones

hobiemjones... hobie m jones. Hobie M. Jones.

M.J.

Miles exhaled again and tucked his phone away in shock just as the classroom door opened yet again and all the students quieted down. This class's teacher made their way over to their desk, piles of papers in hand. They started to pass them out to the students in the front row, introducing themself and then going over the usual attendance policies.

Miles accepted the syllabus sheets with trembling hands, turning to pass them over his shoulder once he got his own, his mind running a hundred miles a minute.

Peter talked nonstop about his wife, whenever he managed to stop talking about his baby, that is. It was always MJ this, MJ that. Flashes of a middle-aged man staring forlornly at a picture of his then-ex wife-- grieving the one who got away-- raced across his mind's eye. His universe's own MJ standing at a podium, strong but deeply hurt as she addressed all of Brooklyn after Spiderman's funeral.

"She wanted kids and I... just wasn't ready," echoed over and over in Miles' mind. Of course, they're together now. But the way Peter talked about his divorce... oh god.

Wait... was Miles ready for kids? Were he and Hobie going to have a messy on-and-off again relationship that ended up with them having to care for a spider-baby just like Mayday?! Maybe even multiple spider-babies?!?!?

Miles loosened his tie a bit, sweating profusely.

The fact that neither Hobie nor Miles were equipped with the parts to make a baby together flew right over his head. No... instead, his mind skipped straight to marriage, messy emotional fights and inevitable breakups. How was he gonna juggle school, work, Spiderman stuff and a relationship all at once?!

Without realizing, Miles started hyperventilating.

No no no no no, cool it Miles. COOL IT. Don't be weird. Miles mentally slapped himself and tried to even out his breathing as he leaned back in his seat and wiped some sweat off his brow.

He just proved to Miguel O' Hara and the entire multiverse this past spring that he can do his own thing, canon events be damned. Miles Morales was no victim to fate. Maybe all of the other spider-people had their own MJs. But maybe in this universe, MJ and Spiderman were... just friends. Good friends! ...Yeah, yeah, just friends...

The idea floated around in Miles' head throughout the entire rest of the class, but it didn't really make the tightness in his chest loosen up any at all.

Once the bell rang again and everyone started packing their things up, Miles dawdled a bit by the door, fumbling with his phone as his classmates filed out of the room. If he was late enough, maybe he'd completely miss Hobie in the hallways and not have to see him at all. Miles double-checked, triple-checked his schedule again and again, mapping out an eventual escape route through the halls in case Hobie's path did intercept Miles'.

God, Miles thought ruefully, checking the hour on his phone for the 15th time in a row and smiling awkwardly at his teacher's questioning glance. You're being so fucking weird about this right now!

The rational part of his brain kicked in and presented a quick slideshow of other calmer, more reasonable explanations as to why he really shouldn't be avoiding his new friend like the plague all of a sudden.

1. Hobie probably doesn't and won't like me, it stated. There is literally no proof that Hobie Jones is even into guys. Or me, Miles Morales.

2. Even if Hobie Jones is into guys-- or me, Miles Morales-- that does not mean the endgame is automatically marriage. No sir, no proof of that at all!

3. Canon events were officially disproven. Kinda. Mostly. Sort of?

C'mon, bro. Just man up and get out there. You're gonna be late for the next class soon anyways.

Right. He inhaled deeply and steeled himself.

"Okay well, uh. Have a nice day Mx. Gonzalez! See ya... tomorrow." Miles cringed inwardly at how lame that sounded, but his teacher didn't seem to notice as they bid him a nice day as well.

With his heart in his stomach, Miles slowly made his way into the hallway and started walking at a brisk pace, keeping his eyeline straight in front of him, trying to reach his next class on the floor below quickly but manageably. It was when he reached the stairs that his heart sank even lower.

Hobie was standing right next to the stairwell, glaring at the school map placed on the wall off to the left, fingertips on his chin as he mumbled to himself. He was glancing up and down between the map and his schedule in his hand, clearly befuddled.

Damn, he really is bad at navigating, Miles mused, once he recovered.

But as luck would have it, tragedy struck right then. Miles being pretty much the only other kid in the hallway attracted Hobie's attention, and even though Miles' feet kept him moving, he almost tripped on air once Hobie perked up upon seeing him.

"Miles!" Hobie grinned and waved him over, clearly happy to see him.

Oh noooo. Miles was not as happy to see him.

Without thinking, he launched himself down the flight of stairs, hopping over the railing and landing loudly on the 1st floor. Once steady, he basically sprinted over to his 3rd period class, completely missing the way Hobie's sunny grin slowly disappeared and his hand lowered back down to his side.

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Lunchtime came and went. Miles ate his packed lunch at his usual perch on top of the school building, where he always hid while trying to avoid the rest of the student body. He managed to pick a good spot away from prying eyes, and it never failed him.

Hobie ate alone, at a table tucked into the corner of the cafeteria despite being invited to several other tables. He sat and chewed sadly, locs back in front of his eyes, posture hunched over and defeated.

6th period came and went. Miles purposefully kept his gaze averted as Hobie walked in 5 minutes late. They sat at opposite ends of the room, never acknowledging each other's existence.

The school day ended and Miles made his way back to the dorms, sighing with relief once he glanced out the window and saw giant rainclouds rolling in over the horizon. Man, was he glad he got to bunk up on campus with his best friend! He greeted Ganke, kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto his bunkbed, laying back with a sigh. Maybe tomorrow he'd confront Hobie about his erratic behavior and apologize. Maybe.

But that was a problem for future Miles...

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Outside, the rain started falling fast and hard.

Outside, Hobie M. Jones waited miserably by the curb with an umbrella in hand, getting drenched by the water nonetheless. He checked his phone for the 15th time and sniffled angrily, pocketing it and gripping onto his umbrella handle.

Late. Again.

His mother was late to pick him up, as usual.

He swiped at a tear rolling down his cheek and finally loosened his ponytail, letting his locs fall all around his face.

Once she arrived, his mother was going to inevitably ask him how his day was, look only slightly concerned about his angry tears and ask if he made any new friends anyways, despite knowing the answer.

No, mom, Hobie would say as he kept his eyes glued to the car window.

No. I didn't make any friends.

[mausinly]

Grrr cowboy!velikan thoughts, au belongs to @ghouljams, also big thanks to @reyesbignaturals for enabling me hehehe

I don't think he's exactly retired yet, more like laying low with a lot of other guys from Shadow Company. Maybe they did something just a little (not little) risky (they almost blew up all of Washington) and need to stay off the radar for a while. Since Lerch is canonically from Texas, I think it may have been his idea. He's got some of the shadows working as temporary hands while others are holed up on various plots of land in plain sight.

While Graves is busy riding bulls and being a usual showboat, I think Velikan is more dedicated to the laying low part of laying low. He's living on a small ranch, nothing more than maybe 5 acres. He's got a few horses and livestock, mainly chickens and goats because he wants things he can wrangle easily.

It takes some adjustment for him, the slow and somewhat repetitive life in a small town like this. He's so used to constantly being on the move, constantly being on guard. He didn't become the warden by half-assing his job.

But it's so quiet. He always drags himself down to the bars and rodeo arenas with the rest of the shadows, just for the white noise (and to bet on how quickly his CEO gets bucked). They must look like some kind of old western gang, all wearing black hats and bandanas over their mouths. At least there's still that familiarity. He hates to admit it, but he cares about these kids more than he wants to.

It's nice for a while, a little too nice. Laying low seems to drag out longer and longer, and he finds himself calling his little farm "home" more often than not. He starts to understand the suspicious amount of retired military here, this weirdass town has a way of luring you in and wiggling its way into your heart.

Apparently, a lot of the other shadows seem to agree because, one by one, they all begin to settle down with oddly charming and beautiful women. They start making jokes that there must be something in the water when Graves starts chasing around a pretty bronc rider.

He didn't take it all too seriously until he walked by a little stand in the market, selling jars of honey with you sitting comfortably behind the display. There's a frayed little straw hat sitting comfortably on your head and he can't help but wonder how it would look replaced by his own.

Hell, maybe there is something in the water...

[sparklingchim]

[dontpetaporcupine]

The Abigail sequel is a meet-cute horror where Abigail tries to set Joey and her father up together with the help of an unknowing Caleb/Justin

[fairytwles]

“they would never get together” this “they would hate eachother” that!what happened to shipping two people who have never even been in the same room! why do ships have to make sense now! who cares! we used to be a proper country!

[backpackingspace]

Young odysseus convincing everyone Ithaca is nothing but a poor island with rocks and goats to avoid any raids/conquerors/so he doesn't get murdered for talking to Helen bc "it's not like he's a real choice"

Young odysseus falling in love with Penelope at the same event: wait. Wait shit I fucked up hold on just hear me out