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#theyre baby i guess??
kash-phia · 1 month
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baby pokemon trainers 🐣
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paradimeart · 22 days
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Would kup have gotten roped into having to watch one of the little orbbies? Like little rodimus? Or did he just get to sit back and laugh at ratchet and his rambunctious little guy.
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ratchets on standby for training accidents (part of his agreement to be allowed to stay with omega) so he's met orbimus once or twice but has no idea what he's looking at. ratchet would rather explode than let anyone else alone with that thang
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even before the war it wasn't really very common knowledge what protoforms actually looked like since they were so heavily guarded. and they still are. so no kup wouldn't babysit
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modernsapphicism · 2 months
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based on this post
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funkyjeans · 1 year
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take your kid to work day
not pictured: sada probably sleeping in
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druidshollow · 2 months
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ugly baby rivers is gonna be in my brain forever
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its not his fault..... newborns are just ugly
(i did some rambling in the tags if u wanna look at it lol)
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dreemurr-skelememer · 3 months
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I'm gonna be anonymous when I say this because I have seen this done by many people... I strongly dislike the "Error and Nightmare gang are the good guys and trying to make the universe stable while The star sanses are the idiots who will not see reason" .. Like... I .. really? I'm not sure if the reason why I don't like it is because I have seen it so many times or what but it annoys me dearly. The members of the star sanses are reasonable and they are just often made as one sided ignorant people- I mean okay Lets go on the different pov, on the bad sanse side: You see them risk their lives every day getting themselves hurt over and over again all to defend different worlds for the sake of bringing what they believe to be peace and you label them as the fools who just want all the glory- really??? people who get hurt over and over again just do it for that stupid reasons??? I mean come on! Seeing as generally it is shown that the bad sanses want peace as well why not be trying to reach an agreement??? you fight over and over again and you couldn't even be bothered to try and reach their heads to finally listen to what you are saying like what "in a way" dream has done with nightmare countless times but they cant do the same? Just have them fight knowing that the other side are in the wrong and you choose to do nothing but break them?? Like is this your pride or something?? Why are they labelled as good guys yet they allow the other side to fight to their deaths with a good motive in mind but they only lack the full picture?? How am i suppose to "root for you" if this is what you do????? We get inside information of how peaceful they are and how they care for each other deeply, but if you care so much for each other why would you allow the other side to keep fighting your loved ones when they are missing the big picture, you know the big picture yet you say... NOTHING. NADA. ZILCH!! you cannot tell me that they don't listen to you when you barely speak up about the true issue or find a way to show them- you maybe say it once or twice in the whole story and then any other time you go straight to fighting or just avoid them.. COWARDS!! ALL OF THEM!! And in these stories the star sanses always state their reasons for their interference yet you cannot tell them why you are doing this?? All that comes out your mouth are insults and sneers, who would want to believe you when that is all the comes out of your MOUTHS... Excuse me... Just pissed sorry for the long rant.. Oh my gosh AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON DREAM AND NIGHTMARE, DUDE YOU GOT THE BALLS TO BLAME YOUR KID BROTHER FOR BEING A KID AND NOT RECOGNISING YOUR TRAUMA EVEN NOW AS YOU ARE MUCH MORE MATURE AND HAVE THE ABILITY TO REALIZE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU BOTH AS CHILDREN????? Is he the one holding onto the past or is it you??? Night is always depicted as the dadmare, boss, the caring lover, the brother yet he doesn't even have the decency to face the fact he abandoned his brother in stone for 500 years or so, when he comes out you automatically hate him for something he had no idea or control of and choose to ignore his pleads, when your brother wants to reach you, you break him over and over again not wanting him in your life ever again when as i said before he was your "KID BROTHER" and you want to tell me your the good one for just wanting to cut him off with no answers or anything? You gotta be pulling my leg bro... and it would be a different story if the dreamtale background is different but no! it isnt! nothing is said to make it seem dream was an abuser of sorts, they were both hurt and yet you blame dream for all of it you have a whole ass support system yet that is your mindset??? I cant.... I really cant Uh sorry again for this long ass rant though =w=
anon our souls are holding hands resonating as one
my two cents on this (that isn't something i said. a million times before already) is that it's usually because people refuse to see the star sanses in the same light they do the bad sanses the people who actively dislike the star sanses and what they do usually do so because they can't relate to them, from what i've noticed
the bad sanses are easier to root for because of the fact that they are made of struggle and the dirty, gritty parts of morality and life so to say it's easier to think of good things in the middle of so much bad, because it's in our nature as people to look for hope or root for the good, no matter how little it is having the ability to look for goodness and love in so much evil is a form of love in of itself everybody struggles and life sucks and sometimes the world is evil and sometimes we do bad things, but that's the thing, the fact that we as people find something good in the middle of it all (like finding familial love bloom in the bad sanses, as an example) is very inspiring. at least to me!!! that's how i see it!!!! that's how i like to think people see it as well because that's how i see and enjoy them together so i can totally see why people find more relatability and love for the bad sanses. i really do get it and i agree!! like a lot!!!!! i love them too
but that exact reason is also why it really sucks that people just don't see the star sanses in the same light?
i wanna reemphasize my point in relatability: it's difficult for most people to relate to the star sanses because inherently they are the heroes, the protagonists, the main characters, because nobody are any of those things i feel like people often put them on a pedestal because of their central tropes and characteristics. they have it all already, they don't need more praise, right?
i think the biggest problem people have with the star sanses, like your whole ramble very clearly shows, is that they don't humanize them i feel like a lot of people assume that just because they are good and choose to be good and are praised for being good, they are unreachable people don't think they struggle. that it sucks being that.
it's often why i like writing the star sanses with so much struggle and so much mental illness lol, because being good is fucking HARD and they're as imperfect as everybody else. dream is anxious, ink is brash, blue is a workaholic, stuff like that
there's a lot to say but it's just....the bad sanses and the star sanses are two sides of the same coin. the bad sanses is finding good in the middle of, basically, evil and misdeed the star sanses is finding struggle in the middle of trying to do good
people often portray both of them black and white morals and it's why it gets frustrating and flat and badly written.
idk, just like how i find inspiration in the bad sanses of finding hope and love in the middle of darkness, i really admire the implications of the star sanses when you actually decide to humanize them. because if you make the star sanses struggle throughout their praise, glory, and righteousness, it's...really admirable that they still choose to do good.
like you said, the star sanses risk their lives often and fight, offering treaties and agreements, just to make things right that's so??? admirable????? like for the amount of times the bad sanses fucking fight them, i genuinely would've just given up completely, but they just....don't??? and that's so admirable and sweet? it makes them so deserving of their titles as guardians.
idk!!! this is a massive ramble too, i don't even know where i was going with it but like, yeah, i think i wanted to talk mostly about why people preferred the bad sanses over the star sanses and how it makes me sad i get you anon. with my whole body and my whole soul. i understand what you mean and i see you
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markkzstuff · 1 month
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the phighting babies
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smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.
#jrwi show#jrwi fanart#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying#nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess#ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so#i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little.#AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair.#AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair#both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother.#GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home#but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns.#he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again#not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO#i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED#all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis#but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum#and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it#youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.#YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!!#you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound.#elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now.#this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes#BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply
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skunkes · 3 months
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#prefacing this with I Know Spanish. i cant not know spanish‚ my parents don't speak english#but im the only one of my siblings that didnt get to go to school over there 🇲🇽 (just pre school)#adn the thing is like. my siblings wld talk to me in eng of course#(if they talked to me at all! what do u say to a baby when you're 9 12 and 15 yrs older.)#and my parents wld similarly jst not talk to me? i did not have conversations with them from birth to now lol.#thjere is something about how like. my sisters kids are also learning the languages at the same time#but when they mess up in spanish theyre corrected‚ by my sister (their mom)‚ my other sister‚ my parents#why not Me. why wasnt that extended to Me as a child...#the same reason I have the least amount of baby pictures while my siblings all have one full book each i bet#the same reason why my and my eldest sister are 15 yrs apart LOL#igts so crazy to me. i hate mentioning this bc people assume#im one of those ppl who isnt fluent bc their parents speak english and spanish and never taught them#my parents dont speak english❗❗❗❗#my nephew thats older than me who is my fave family member and also only speaks spanish#is coming up on sunday idk that i can fully carry convo with him!#pure spanglish bc i didnt grow up having convos in it writing it reading it#thats why im so desperate to read books in spanish now. im so deeply ashamed#igts so crazy. i hate it.#saw a comment on smthng the other day thats like ''idk how u can have parents that only speak spanish and not know it lol''#well can you take a guess. can u take a guess as to how that would happen via interactions. lack thereof.#idk why but its even more embarrassing this way. genuinely how cld u not know...?#its like i was born to feel isolated from my family in every single way...youngest by so many years#the language thing. the Hates Eating thing. the trans thing. most severe failure to launch#im so embarrassed to be alive....!#and i dont belong anywhere. and i am Alone wherever I am.#abandoned by direct and distant relatives. ancestors.
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axellis · 9 days
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idk what caption to put here . i think dark cacao needs to consider having another parental figure in dark chocos life and peppermint fudge is a very good contender
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clowningaroundmars · 7 days
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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?
:)
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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!"
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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.
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platonic-prompts · 2 years
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I am here once again fresh off listening to that vegan teacher reaction videos to share some dairy farm information and wisdom that was not asked for but you get anyway
Calf hutches are used to provide the calves with safe, clean living spaces and offer airflow in the summer and protection from the wind and cold in the winter, and using calf hutches often leads to better health for the calves and easier tracking of any issues they might have as well as making sure they all get the same amount of milk (also, the milk substitute for calves smells amazing)
Essentially, they're cribs for babies. Calves have really bad immune systems, and if you can't easily see which one has diarrhea, then that calf could very well die and spread the issue to the others. Farmers dont want their animals to die. (Farm animals are not cheap. Even if they were born on your farm, if they die you're losing out on the money you could get from them. 5 month old steers can go for over 1000 dollars)
And just as an example as how people twist calf hutches
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saulgoodperson · 2 years
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wanna share whati made yesterday
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forgotten-rain · 4 months
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more people need to talk about how
1. Gale thinks the world is better off without him in it.
He thinks the mistake he made was so monumental that it's not even worth him being alive anymore. He thinks that if he does as Mystra asks and blows himself up to kill the elder brain, then at least his folly would amount to something. He's lived for a year in darkness and isolation and convinced himself that the only way to move forward is by somehow regaining his goddess's favour, and if he can't do that then he's not worth the air he breathes. He wants so desperately to matter, to mean something, that he's willing to throw his whole life away to garner even a fraction of the love Mystra used to bestow upon him. He's a brilliant man, an incredible wizard, kind-hearted, and trying so damn hard to do the right thing, but somehow he fails to see all those qualities and puts his worth solely on a single mistake he made that he made out of love. Out of ambition and out of desire, but ultimately out of love. And now, after spending months in self-imposed isolation, the only future he sees for this world is one where he's not in it. And,
2. That he doesn't think he's worthy of Tav. He doesn't believe that anyone can love him as he is, no matter how often Tav tries to convince him otherwise. If a literal god deemed him unworthy, then who is he to claim he isn't? He finds the ability to love again with Tav, starts the slow and excruciating journey of healing together with them, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he still believes he's not good enough. He wants to be more. He wants to be everything that Tav wants him to be. He wants to be everything Tav needs him to be. He wants to prove to them that he can be a good fighter, a good lover, a good friend. That's why he asks again and again if they wouldn't love him better if he were a god. If he was perfect - truly perfect. If he could command armies and fell kingdoms, if he could give them everything they could ever dream of. Wouldn't Tav want that? Why would they want his battered, broken, mortal self when they could have a perfected version of him? What beauty is there in failure, in making mistakes, in being flawed? Even when Tav insists that they love him for who he is, not for the power he would wield, he struggles to accept it. He trusts that they're telling the truth, but he's been a wizard of renown for so long that he doesn't quite know how to be a regular man any more. His whole notion of worth has been tied so tightly with power and control for so long that he's forgotten what it is like to be loved simply for being who he is. Not the Wizard of Waterdeep. Not Mystra's Chosen. But a man, wandering in the dark like everyone else, afraid, but so full of hope.
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lindalofbroome · 1 year
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source: @incorrectdeltoraquotes ‘s post
we need uncle steven and uncle doom content
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pangur-and-grim · 2 years
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THE COLOURS!!! they’re mostly orange dalmatian, but you can also see an orange koi, a black koi, and an orange
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