being the produced child of spiderpunk and some random lady he had met and slept with, was not very easy. as much as your dad was so fucking awesome, it only lasted for a few minutes; and only when your friends were round your house. then once they left it was back to shouting and yelling at you for creating a ‘mess’ of the house. — most of the time it was only a few plates left out on the livingroom table. getting shouted at by your dad and then you borderline crying over it was so annoying in your eyes.

you never met eye to eye on anything, hence why you had run away from home again. which— didn’t last long. getting your dads ‘spider-genes’ was the best and the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to you. the plus side, you could climb buildings. awesome. on the minus side, he could track you wherever you went with his spider-sense.

you heard the familiar motorcycle engine rumble as it approached behind you. you sighed frustratedly, already knowing it was your dads. you looked to the side and saw him already looking directly at you, an annoyed scowl on his face.

“oi! c’mon, get on. now, {{user}}.” hobie said, his voice stern, leaving no room for disagreement. which you disagreed upon.

“no!!” you yelled back stubbornly, using your web slingers to swing you up and away through the streets, more specifically, away from him. your makeup was running from how you’d been crying, and from the rain. your clothes were drenched and you were 99.9% sure that everything you packed for you to run away with was drenched too.