#Octobie

[sareenawails]

Would anyone be interested in a masc insert version of this drawing?🌝

I've had art block for like 4 months straight and I need motivation to get back into it

Robin Hood! Hobie and fem insert drawing from Octobie event I never posted

Also is it me or is tumblr fucking up my quality

fem insert looks like voldemort lol

Insert yourselfs or ocs to un-voldemort her 🤭

[the-kr8tor]

High on the Feeling

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Summary: Hobie goes to the dentist and you leave with a very giggly and sweet Hobie high on anesthesia.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw food mentions, talks of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff.

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Octobie 🎸

You've practically flipped through every single magazine in the dentist’s waiting room while you wait for Hobie. He's been complaining about the annoying ache in his molar that has hindered him from doing his responsibilities for the past few weeks. And after some convincing on your end (and a lot of smooches and coddling), he finally accepted that he needed a tooth extraction.

Now, you'd think that with his abilities that a regular ol' anesthesia wouldn't even work on him. But judging from the lack of swearing and screaming behind the tooth shaped door, you and Hobie's hypothesis were dead wrong.

You pick at your nails while you wait, and listen to the cheery pop song that's starting to make you more annoyed than the hospital-like smell of the place. The walls are painted stark white with a bunch of Ikea bought shelves perched on it where a bunch of teeth related decor sits and a handful of picture frames filled with stock photos of smiling people. You feel unnerved by the choice in decoration. Couldn't they just put infographics on how to properly brush your teeth like a normal dentist?

As the thought passes by your mind, the tooth shaped door opens and out comes Hobie stumbling over his own feet. Boots stomp loudly on the tiled floors, and you immediately run towards him to catch his flailing body.

Thankfully, you catch him in time, his head falls on your shoulder as his arms fall limp on his sides. His muffled groans reverberate, making you turn towards the rushing dentist assistant with her hands frantically pushing a wheelchair that you surmise was supposed to be Hobie's ride out.

“Is everything okay?” You ask both the nurse and Hobie, who's basically laying his entire weight on you. You feel his drool leaking onto your shirt. Or his shirt for that matter.

“I'm sorry, he just launched himself out of the wheelchair!” She sighs tiredly. “He keeps saying that London needs him. And that he's Spider-Man.”

Your eyes widen for a second before fixing your expression. “...Oh,” you say, laughing nervously. You put your arms under his armpits to hold him better. But it doesn't make it any easier to carry all 6 feet and three inches of Hobie. “How did it go? Is he alright? Except for being a drama queen.” You joke so that the woman forgets what Hobie told her.

Fortunately, she chuckles. “Yeah, the procedure went well. Although, he was a lightweight with the anesthesia. Like he was out out.”

“Really?” You furrow your brows questioningly while you hobble towards the wheelchair to sit him down or your hold on him will fail since he's tethering to the side now. “I thought you might've needed more of it than less.”

“Us too, he's just a bit loopy but he'll be okay after a few hours.” She helps you put Hobie on the chair, he falls unceremoniously on it with a clatter of metal. “I suggest you drive him home.” She winces when Hobie mumbles something incoherent with a giggle right after. He looks like a happy camper.

“Yeah, for sure.” You think he looks adorable with him looking like he's high up in cloud nine. He seems fine except for his droopy eyes and mouth, and all the drool pooling in the corner of his lips. At least he's not in pain anymore. Taking a handkerchief from your jean pocket, you gently dab at the corner of his lips, to which he hums appreciatively. “Thank you, I'll take it from here.”

She smiles as she hands you the push handles of the wheelchair over to you. “Of course—oh, I almost forgot. We kind of promised him ice cream.”

“Coconut!” Hobie suddenly yells, perking up from his seat with wide eyes. The other people waiting in the room jumps from their seats. If something bad happens to him because of the anesthesia, you're going to sue this place to the ground. You place your hand on his shoulder, which he immediately calms down and looks up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Coconut ice cream to be exact.” The nurse gives you an apologetic look.

“Good thing I know where to get some.” You smile down at Hobie, only to find him boyishly smiling up at you.

“You're pretty.” He whispers breathlessly like you've taken the air from his lungs. His hand holds the back of yours, patting it softly. He looks as handsome as ever even with a cotton ball shoved in his mouth.

“Thank you, Hobs, you're pretty too.” You feel like melting on the spot as he smiles at you. “Let's go home first and then I'll get you a whole pint.” Hopefully he'll be sober by then, although you're loving his lovestruck gaze on you.

“Home?” He asks while you push him towards the exit.

“Yeah, we live together, Hobie.” You giggle, nudging the top of his head with your chin. The bells hanging above the door jingles when an attendant opens it for you. The cooling autumn air greets you and Hobie.

“Woah.” He sighs like he couldn't believe your words. “We married?”

You pause right next to the van, heart squeezing in your chest. “Oh, Hobie.” His question is the most adorable thing you've ever heard.

“Oh no,” he utters like he hurt you. Stumbling out of the chair, he turns towards you to rub your arms just like he always does whenever you need comfort.

“Sit down, Hobie, you might fall—” His hands cradling your cheeks stop you from continuing. You see his eyes well up with tears, pretty hazel eyes glimmering under the afternoon sun. “Oh, baby, don't cry.”

“We're not married?” His lips wobbles, “that's bonkers.”

“Do you want us to be—?”

“Yes.” He says before you could finish your sentence. You hold him by his waist, helping him with his balance.

You chuckle with a soft smile, hand reaching up to rub your thumb along his chin as you peck the tip of his nose. “Tell you what, we'll talk about it in the car.”

“Really?” Hobie's eyes light up. You've only seen him like this whenever he gets home early on patrol only to see you waiting for him happily.

“Yes really. We’ll feed our guests coconut ice cream.”

He drops his head back, chuckling deeply. You raise his head back up in fear of him choking on the cotton ball. Once his head is upright on his neck once again, he grins at you. “You know ‘m Spider-Man, right, love?”

Your guffaw echoes around the parking lot, “off you go in the van, Spider-Man.” Guiding him towards the van, you turn the corner to open the passenger door for him.

Hobie takes a big whiff, and you look on with an endeared smile. “I smell pine.”

“Yeah, it's the scent thing we bought at the gas station.” You point at the swinging 2d pine tree in the rearview mirror, other hand placed on the small of his back, making sure that he doesn't fall.

“I don't fancy pine.” He pouts uncharacteristically, making you clamp down your lips to quiet your giddy laughter.

“It was the only thing available. We'll get a new one, okay?” Kissing his shoulder, ready to guide him on the seat, he leans in for a proper one but you move away before he could. He pouts again, brows fully knitted together. “Sorry, but we're in public, Hobs, and you have a bloody cotton in your mouth.” You really want to kiss him, you really do, but he probably can't tell his right from his left right now.

Hobie scrunches his nose, hand reaching up his mouth but you stop him halfway before he could yank it out. “Why?” Swatting your hand away, he playfully fights with you.

You continue to fight with his long arms, you two must've looked like a couple of kids baby fighting in the middle of the parking lot with your hands slapping his own away. “Because, you can't— Hobie! You can't take it off!”

“But I want to snog you.” If it wasn't for his haze filled eyes, you'd think that he's playing with you.

“I promise you can snog me as much as you want later when you're well aware of your surroundings—!” His hands manage to grab hold each of your wrists, braceleting his fingers around them. You fight a giggle, acting like you mean business but the amusement in your eyes says otherwise. “Get in the car please.”

“You promise later?” Hobie clicks his forehead against your own. Eyes fully closed, sighing quietly.

Rubbing his back, you let him calm down from his high for a moment. “Yes, I promise—” you hear soft snores. “Are you asleep?!”

After wrangling Hobie into the passenger seat, making sure that his seatbelt is properly settled, you finally pull out of the parking lot. Once you manage to get back on the road, you glance towards Hobie, who's looking out the window with his face squished on the glass.

“You okay over there?” Patting his leg, you get his attention, and you swear he looked like he just realized you were in the car with him when his entire expression lit up like a billboard in New York. “I wish I had a camera right now.”

“What for?” He places his head on the head rest, cheek smooshed on the leather, eyes sparkling as he looks at you softly.

“To take a picture of you.”

“I want to take a picture of you.” He says softly, “a million pictures of you.”

“Can one of those pictures be with you too?” You grin, trying to focus on the road ahead instead of looking at the adorable sight next to you.

“If you want to.” His eyes flutter close, but he's clearly fighting sleep.

“Well, I want to.” You stop the car when the light turns red, a perfect opportunity to hold his hand. “You can nap if you want. I'll wake you up when we're home.”

“I want to pick flowers for you.” You swear your heart jumps out of your chest. “But only your favourites.”

“And I'll get you coconut ice cream as much as you want.”

His eyes closes to the hum of the engine. “I'll share it with you.”

“I know you will, Hobs.” Kissing the back of his hand, you let him go just as when the light turns green.

Hobie has always been sweet on you, but this time, he's beyond just being sweet. Your teeth feel like it's rotting from how incredibly saccharine he is. And you love every second of it, but you wish that the meds wear off so you could be with the same Hobie who hogs the blanket at night and who wakes you up with his cold feet against your thigh.

—

You cuddle close to Hobie whilst you feed him spoonfuls of coconut ice cream on the sofa. The anesthesia has completely worn off, sobering up to his old self. You've given him his pain meds and you've lit up a scented candle for him to relax more. Crumpet sleeps next to him, face snuggled up against his side, unbothered by everything that's happening around her. Your head finds penchant atop his chest as his palm rests above your stomach after he casually flung your shirt over his hand to feel your warmth.

“How's the pain?” You ask, while he draws patterns over your soft skin.

“Throbbin’, a three right now. Nothin' I can't handle though.” He says while you scoop out another spoonful for him. “I think they took more than one tooth.” He says while he opens his mouth for you to feed him another dollop.

“Do you want me to check?” You tease, pointing at his bottom lip with the spoon, looking up at him with a smirk.

“Maybe later,” he squeezes your nose before letting go with a chuckle. “What else did I say other than tellin' people my secret?”

“They didn't believe you anyway, thanks to the meds.” A drop of ice cream falls from the bowl down to your hand, licking it off, you let the sweet treat melt in your mouth after giving it a taste. He looks at you like you're the dessert. Smiling, you perch both of your legs on his lap, to which he just grins wider at. “You really want to know?”

“Was I that embarrassin’?” Hobie nudges the crown of your head with his nose to tell you that it's his turn to be fed. Arm pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Blackmail worthy,” you joke, you move to take another mouthful of ice cream but he beats you to it by taking your wrist to lead the spoon towards his mouth instead. “Rude.” You giggle and he pinches your side.

“C’mon, tell me.” He wipes away a bit of cream from the corner of your lips with his thumb, which he quickly licks away, flustering you in your seat. He smirks victoriously, eyebrows raising smugly. He knows what he's done.

“Fine,” you laugh, pushing at his chest lightly. “you asked if we were married. And you cried when I said no.”

“That's… the right reaction.” He tilts his head in the same way like he's hiding a surprise for you. The last time he did this was when he got you your favourite pasta from a restaurant across the city.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you mean?” Your heart thuds loudly in your chest.

“Even my high self knows about it.” He side glances at you, while you're left pondering what he meant, he takes the bowl of ice cream from your hands. “My turn to feed you, lovie.”

“Hobie,” your eyes shimmers under the cinnamon smelling candle light, you hug his middle with a shaking arm. “What do you mean?”

He makes a face, shrugging while a bright smile spreads across his face. “Nothin', love.”

You laugh giddily, waking up Crumpet from her nap. “Okay then—wait, you're fucking with me aren't you?” Narrowing your eyes, you shut your mouth as he tries to feed you a scoop.

“Open up,” Hobie holds the spoon up for you, winking as you gaze at him softly. You still don't open your mouth, so with a glint in his eyes, he leans close to you, smashing his lips to yours, tasting the coconut on your lips while you laugh against his lips as the kiss turns from a playful one to a gentle, loving kiss.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @/mushroom-graphics-allotment

[michelleart8]

Octobie Month 🎸

Final Week : Halloween!!!

Did this quick I forgot to finish it. Drew this while watching Silence of the Lambs with Friends for Halloween night

Credit to @the-kr8tor for Octobie and @mushroom-graphics-allotment for the banner !

I hope you enjoyed this Octobie too guys !!!

See you next time !! <3

[juineri]

VAMPIRE HOBIE‼️‼️🦇🦇🦇

Spoopy week is upon us 👻👻👻🎃🎃

[yumeaoka-chan]

For Science!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Spider-Punk x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: Cursing, blood drinking, blood, lovesick hobie, lovesick reader, cuddling, implied kink(just one mention of it really, it's not even fully there tbh), no physical description of reader, reader is AFAB, (In the Pursuit of Blood reverse au kinda, if you really think about it)

Summary: Your boyfriend has always been curious about your vampiric powers. But there's one question he's been refraining himself from asking.

A/N: Credits for the lovely banners go to @the-shroom-garden !!! Second piece for week 4 of Octobie @the-kr8tor , let's go!!! I'll probably have my third final piece done later this week, idk. I've been on a roll, so there might be a fourth if i can write fast enough💪

“You fuckin’ with me, lovie?”

“No, Hobes. I really can turn into a bat. As well as a swarm of them, but that's besides the point.” You can't help the smile that flits across your face as he gestures to you with open arms and grabby hands. A clear indication that he's waiting for you to do just that, turn into a bat. Hobie knows the sparkle in his eyes is giving away just how excited he is to see you turn and he won't lie about how much he's dying to hold you when you do.

Shaking your head, you let out a playful sigh and place a hand on your forehead, as if you're winded. Turning around, you fall back into your boyfriend's awaiting arms, only for a small cloud of black shimmering mist to appear with a poof when he moves to wrap his arms around you. Hobie's eyes widen in shock as the mist subsides, an excited, lopsided grin on his lips as he peers down at you in his hands. A fuzzy bat about the size of his forearm with fur the same color of your hair. He has to reign in the urge to squish your little cheeks when you peer up at him with big red eyes, so cute and utterly adorable. Not at all good for his heart, he supposes. And when your little bat tongue comes out as you yawn, he goes “Fuck it” and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and index finger.

“Look at you… Too cute, darlin’. I'm gonna have a heart attack, swear”, Hobie coos softly as his other hand comes up to pet at your large ears, dopey smile lighting up his features.

You let out an irritated squeak of protest from the smothering of your cheeks and shake your head free from his fingers. With a small chirp, you open your tiny mouth towards his thumb, tiny fangs making his smile falter as he thinks you're going to bite him for a second. Only for your tiny tongue to gently lick the pad of his thumb, tiny bat body wrapping around his wrist. That was the day Hobie thinks his ‘wanting you to bite and drink from him’ obsession started. He was curious, as one naturally is when their girlfriend is a damn vampire. Days and weeks passed after that and he never uttered a word to you about the subject, not exactly knowing how you'd take being asked to feed from him.

You'd always made sure you were fed before being around him so, he never tried to ask. Although the nagging question and want to know how it felt ate at him day and night. Was it a need? No. Was it want? Perhaps. Was it somehow tied to his…longing of you? Hobie wasn't fully prepared to unpack that yet. Besides, what if the reason you never tried to feed from him was because you cared about him deeply and wished no hurt to come to him? That feeding was a necessity for your survival and you didn't want him to feel like you kept him around for just that? He groans as he thinks about those being the possible reasons, scrubbing a hand over his face with exasperation. It was late in the night with you having gone to feed, leaving Hobie alone in the houseboat with his ever pressing thoughts.

He flopped back on his bed and glared up at the ceiling, trying to will away the questions that flitted around his head a mile a minute. He was genuinely intrigued though. Hobie truly wanted nothing more than to find out just how it felt to be bitten by a vampire, about whether it would hurt or pinch just a bit.

“It's not even like that. She loves me. Plus this is just for…research…”, he mumbles to himself as he flings an arm over his eyes. Would you get mad at him and be offended if he asked you, however? You've always indulged in his curiosity when it came to your abilities but, something like this just had to be… personal. Teeth worrying at his bottom lip and tongue fiddling with his lip piercing, Hobie lays there for a few more moments before sighing and sitting up. He wouldn't ask you. At least, not yet. Too caught up in the long list of cons rather than the short list of pros. Just as he reaches for his guitar, a sudden bang against his window rocks the boat. He holds out both arms to steady himself as the houseboat slowly stops rocking, eyes darting towards the window and ears perked for anything that might spell danger.

His senses don't go haywire, which helps ease the anxiousness beneath his skin. Standing up, Hobie opens the window to peer out of it, only for the fuzzy blur that is you to come hitting him in the face, making him yelp in shock. Your fuzzy body drapes over his head before you slowly slide down into his palms that had quickly come up to catch you. Little chirps leave you, sounding weak and tired. Hobie shakes his head before peering down at you with growing concern as he walks back over to the bed and sits down with you in his arms. With a poof of shimmering black mist, you're back in your human form, albeit bruised and bleeding from multiple cuts. Your body sags weakly against his as you look up at your boyfriend with a shaky smile.

“Evening, Hobie.”

“Oh my days, what the absolute fuck happened to you?” Is what he furiously whispers as his hands tenderly cup your cheeks. You nuzzle into the warmth of his touch as he gently wipes the blood dripping from your forehead, eyes shining with concern and heart aching at your battered form. You can smell the scent of his blood beneath his skin, how it rushes through his veins. With a sigh, you bat tired lashes up at him and softly shrug.

“Not all vampires are as lovely as me. That is to say, I got into a fight with some old shithead and won. ‘M hungry though, didn't get to feed…” You mumble as you bury your face against his chest. Hobie scoffs and shakes his head. Of course you'd find a way to make some joke out of the situation. He's rubbed off on you a bit more than he'd liked to. Pursing his lips and watching as you inhaled the scent of him deeply, that nagging question springs into his mind again. After all, you were battered, tired, and hungry. It couldn't hurt to ask now…

“Hey, um, love? Considering that you need blood to heal and everything… W-What if you were to feed on me…?”

“Oh, finally. I was wondering when you were going to ask this question.” That makes his eyebrows raise in shock, mouth dropping open and eyes blinking repeatedly. You give him a knowing smirk and press a sweet kiss to his chin then his lips.

“Trust me, it's a very common question, baby. You wouldn't be the first to ask it. I am curious what your reason behind it is, though.” Hobie lets out a nervous chuckle, a dopey grin on his face as he avoids your gaze. He shrugs and scratches the back of his head, embarrassment coloring his voice and making it crack a bit.

“U-Uh, well… You know, it's for, um, science! Yeah… Science, lovie.” Not entirely a lie, he was much too flustered to come up with any other excuse. A giggle leaves your lips and Hobie's eyes soften as he gazes at you with fondness. Always so weak whenever you laugh for him, the sound like an arrow straight to his heart. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, hands cupping your face once more and thumb caressing your cheek lovingly. When he pulls back, his heart just about aches at the adoration in your pretty eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. His thumb tenderly grazes along your bottom lip, gently poking at your fang that sticks out.

“Go ahead then, darlin’. Take what you need, mm?” Slowly nodding your head, you lean up to press your lips against his neck, softly gripping the hair at the back of his nape to gently tilt his head to the side. Your other hand rests on his shoulder. One of his hands is splayed across your back while the other rests on the back of your head.

“I'll be gentle, promise”, you mumble quietly against his skin as your fangs gently graze his flesh. He shivers slightly at the sensation and nods his head, heart pounding in his ears as you pepper his neck in kisses. It's then that he feels your fangs sinking into his flesh, like a shard of ice in his veins. The pain is sharp and quick to come, but goes away just as quickly. He can feel the sensation of his blood being sipped out of his body, a sensation that isn't too unpleasant. Warmth pools beneath his skin and he holds you closer against his body as you drink from him. His mind clears and his body feels lighter, like all of his troubles have been swept away by your touch. Giddiness makes a goofy smile appear on his lips as he presses his neck closer to your lips. You hold onto Hobie gently, tilting his head just a bit more as you lap at the delectable nectar that is his blood. There's something different about it, not like a normal human’s life force. You think that it's probably because your boyfriend is no normal human, after all. There's something energizing about it, something that pumps you up and you feel every wound stitching itself close the longer you drink.

Hobie's little hum and hands growing slightly lax in his grip on you makes you back away, tongue lapping over the bite mark to stop the bleeding. Pressing one final kiss to his neck as thanks, you gaze up at his face with slight concern. Hobie's eyes are half-lidded and glazed with contentment, hands wrapping around you and gently pulling you towards his neck again.

“Finish drinkin’, lovie”, he slurs just a bit, voice deep and soft like he'd been drinking. “Want you to get all better.” His words make you smile and you gently lay him down on the bed. You shush his protests with a soft kiss to his lips before tapping his cheek so that he looks up at you.

“I got just what I needed. Thank you, Hobie.” You coo softly as you drape the blankets over his form. Hobie gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes swimming with such a lovestruck shine to them that you can't help but pepper his face in more kisses. He hums softly as you adorn him with your love, grin widening with every kiss.

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart”, he mumbles as you turn off the lights and press another kiss on his forehead. Sleep is quickly trying to claim him and he's not one to fight it. “Anythin’ for you.”

[v0lcan0z1s]

OCTOBIE WEEK ONE RAHH

He's actually so silly I'm going to explode

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Octobie '24: DiscoPunk - Anarchy & Admiration

LMFAO!! What if we kissed in front of the 🔥🔥🥵🚓👮🏻‍♂️FLAME ENGULFED NYPD POLICE CRUISER👮🏻‍♂️🚓🥵🔥🔥😱😱😱😱😱👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏿👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏿💞💞❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (a.k.a when you finally find somebody who can match your anarchy freak)

Thanks to @the-kr8tor as always!!

So happy I made it in time this week! Drawing this was SOO fun. Happy I could finally use that burning cop car BG I made six months ago lol

Remember, when you have a Spidersona, you can do whatever you want forever.

[hyperfix-wip]

Octobie Wildcard: Double Interrogation

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Detective! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Detective! Reader

Summary: Hobie reluctantly accepts going into a police interview but bites off more than he could chew once he realizes his ex will be interviewing him.

Word count: 4.8k

Author's Note: I MADE IT IN TIME FOR WEEK 3!!! I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading an earlier draft of it! Event by @the-kr8tor and banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment . This prompt is based on a DND campaign from Dimension 20’s Unsleeping City: https://youtu.be/Ukt_uoeh_YY?si=laDicS-fMXIMazGB

Tags: Ex!Hobie, Older!Hobie, Ex!Reader, Older!Reader, Detective!Reader, American!Reader, Explicit Language, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

As far as Hobie can remember, this is probably the first time he’s been inside a police station without being charged for something.

He sits back against the backrest of the metal chair in the interrogation room, tipping the chair back and balancing it on its back legs while his long, gangly legs rest on the dark wooden table. It was a surprise for Hobie when his friend Gwen begged him to go into a police interview in her stead for a freak criminal attack at a wedding in Manhattan, resulting in a few civilian casualties and the capture of some obscure criminal duo he can’t seem to remember at the moment. She knows damn well about how he feels about those blue pigs– especially with his history with the corrupt law system back home– but any inkling of refusal died on his tongue the moment she mentioned that the interview was going to be with her dad of all people. Seeing Gwen’s desperation to keep her identity a secret as she trembles in front of him, Hobie could only sigh and reluctantly agree.

Damn, he’s getting soft. 

A quiet groan rumbles in his chest as he rolls his head back to look up at the ceiling. The room itself is dim, with only a couple of barred windows filtering sunlight inside and a small light hanging in the middle of the ceiling. The dingy fan quickly spins around, making the silver plastic pull chain swaying back and forth with soft clinks echoing in the room. His spider senses tingle in a low hum against his skin as another bored groan rumbles up from his throat. His eyes glance over to the one-way glass, his brows furrowing from his spider senses not picking up any bodies on the other side of the window, before brushing it off and glancing back up at the ceiling.

Thought there were supposed to be a group of them watching over these kinds of interviews, Hobie thinks to himself as his hand reaches up to the hem of his mask and pulls it up halfway. He absently tugs on his lip ring with his front teeth while he scratches his chin, his scruff brushing against his calloused fingers. He’s tempted to push himself off the uncomfortable chair and get the hell out of this room, but the hairs of his arms barely stand up before the heavy metal door finally opens. A uniformed young woman with a police badge walks into the room with a tray of small chocolate biscuits and a paper cup with the tea bag string hanging off the lip.

“Sorry about this,” the young officer shyly sets the plate and cup down on the table in front of him. “I know you were supposed to meet with Captain Stacy and the rest of the Criminal Investigations Unit, but there was an emergency hostage situation at Upper Manhattan, and… well, I’m sure you and the rest of the Spider Gang are already aware of it and are already taking care of it with them.”

Her eyes then widen as she nervously smiles at him, “but we do appreciate you coming here to cooperate with one of our other cases! I just hope this isn’t a waste of your time being here instead of with your team.”

A small scoff slips through Hobie’s lips as he grabs the warm paper cup, his nose subtly crinkling from the familiar smell of Lipton tea wafting into his nostrils before he politely takes a sip. “S’alright, love,” Hobie reassures her with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure all of the other Spiders are handling it without me.”

Although being over there would probably be a lot more interesting, Hobie thought to himself before grabbing a chocolate biscuit and taking a bite of it. The bittersweet chocolate and hazelnut flavor floods his mouth before he reluctantly washes it down with the hot flavored water (he refuses to call that tea). “Should I come back at a later time if the captain–” Hobie internally grimaces from the polite term– “is unavailable?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry!” the young woman smiles at him sheepishly. “One of the detectives from the CIU will still be able to interview you. She just needs to gather all of the files Captain Stacy left her before he and the rest of the unit left.”

The young woman then starts to head towards the door, “I’ll check up on her, so hang tight.”

As the young woman leaves the room, the polite smile ghosting Hobie’s face instantly disappears before a bored frown takes over. He lifts his arm to check on his Web-Watch, already scanning through the updates from the other Spiders and their missions, including the hostage situation mentioned earlier. His eyes soften as he sees a small photo of Mayday and Peni hanging over a ledge with some Jamaican patties in their hands while Gwen, Miles and Pavitr swing into what seems like the Alchemax building.

A small snort slips through his nose as a small smile curls up on his lips. Even after working with them for almost ten years, he still can’t help but remember all of them as the bright-eyed young Spiders. Even Mayday, who he met with Peter when she was only a year old, has grown up into the fiery little spitfire that he knew she would become, helping out behind the scenes with the rest of the younger Spiders while the veterans handle the more dangerous missions.

Fuck, Hobie’s getting old.

Hobie shakes his head and tugs his mask back down as he continues to scroll through all of the updates, his eyes quickly spotting an exasperated Captain Stacy and a bewildered Captain Morales-Davis of the Emergency Service Unit, before a private message from Gwen pops up. His brows furrow as he taps onto the message on the screen while more messages pop up.

Gwen: Just saw my dad at Alchemax

Gwen: Almost all of CIU actually

Gwen: Well…except one

Gwen: Sorry, Hobs 😭

Wait, what?

Before Hobie can respond to the messages, his skin crawls underneath his spandex and his heart almost drops to his stomach from the familiar tingle in the back of his head, that tingle sending an overwhelming, bittersweet wave of emotions he was not prepared for. He instantly jumps up from his seat and knocks the metal chair over, the chair clattering against the linoleum flooring, but the heavy metal door opens before he could pry the bars off one of the windows.

His eyes quickly dart at the young officer standing underneath the doorway with some papers in her arms, and right behind her is you.

You, one of the youngest detectives of the Criminal Investigations Unit in the New York Police Department. The rookie detective who helped the newly-formed Spider-Gang at the time figure out and crack down the notorious Sinister Six at the height of their power. The detective in the running to be promoted to Sergeant despite your age. One of the few people who personally knows all of the Spider-Gang’s identities.

And his ex-girlfriend.

Hobie quietly mutters an “ah fuck” under his breath before he reluctantly picks the metal chair back up and flops back down on the seat, resigned to the awkward conversation awaiting him. At the same time, you stare at him with a stoic face while slowly walking into the interrogation room, setting an old-school recorder down on the table across from him while the young officer sets the files down in front of you. You quietly thank her as you take your seat across from Hobie, and she nods back at you before glancing over at Hobie again. With a slight blush on her cheeks, she turns away and scurries out of the room, closing the metal door behind her.

An awkward silence instantly looms inside the interrogation room as you adjust the recorder and straighten out the stack of paperwork, your eyes staying downcast and on the items in front of you while you ignore Hobie’s tensely apprehensive figure. His skin crawls and tingles at the sight of you in spite of his dread of seeing you again after the tumultuous breakup before your transfer to the CIU. After that you mainly kept in contact with the rest of the Spider-Gang throughout your career, seeking their cooperation when there were metahuman cases that you deemed too dangerous for the NYPD alone, and made no contact with him for five years until today.

And he's going to have a very long talk with Gwen after he’s done with this damn interview. 

With everything set up to your liking, you let out a reluctant sigh of your own before finally looking up at him.

“You can take the mask off,” you finally break the silence as you massage the bridge of your nose. “Nobody else is here to watch over this, and I already disabled all the cameras in the room. Per request by Ghost Spider, of course.”

Hobie furrows his brows at your cool, formal demeanor, as if you don’t go out for lunch with Gwen during your rare days off– not that he needed to know that– but he shrugs it off. True to your word, his spider senses only sense you in the room and no one else on the other side of the one-way glass, and with a grudging sigh, his hand reaches up to the hem of his spike-mohawked mask before slowly peeling it off his face. His newly twisted dreads flutter down to his shoulders, and his silver piercings glint against the lights as his piercing dark eyes land on yours again. His eyes briefly soften at the obvious dark circles under your eyes and the slight gauntness of your cheeks before hardening to a bored stare again.

You stare at him back with your own impassive look in your eyes before speaking again. “Thank you. Now, per protocol, I will ask for your permission to record this interview–”

“Is that really necessary?” Hobie interrupts you, his annoyance slowly peeking through as he clenches his jaw and furrows his brows again.

Your eyes sharpen with an unamused narrow as you sit back against your seat and cross your arms against your chest. With a click of his tongue and a scoff, he looks away from you and waves his hand, signaling you to continue.

“...as I was saying,” you resume with a hint of irritation in your voice, “do I have your consent to record this interview?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Hobie mutters under his breath, and you ignore the slight twitch in your eye before continuing.

“Alright then,” you manage to keep most of your irritation out of your voice as you press the play button on the recorder with a click. “This is Detective Y/N L/N of the New York Police Department 21st Precinct Criminal Investigations Unit. I am currently interviewing a member of the vigilante group Spider-Gang, Spider-Punk–”

“Spider-Man.”

“No, I’m not calling you that–”

“Spider-Man.”

“There’s like five Spider-Men in the group. I am not confusing Captain Stacy with which Spider-Man I’m talking to when he reviews this tape–”

“Spider. Man.”

You let out an exasperated groan and massage your temples as a small headache ebbs out from his stubbornness. Breathing in a deep breath before slowly exhaling until your lungs briefly deplete, you stare at Hobie with a deadpan before relenting with a roll of your eyes.

“Correction, the member is Spider-Man–” you narrow your eyes at him with an annoyed look as he gives back a mocking smirk before reverting back to his guarded nonchalance, “ –also known as Mr. Brown as provided by Ghost Spider–”

Hobie instantly sits up on the metal chair with a loud scrape, staring at you with disbelief as you instantly stop the recording with a scowl of your own.

“Have you lost the bloody plot?! The hell are you doing giving my last name–”

“Hey– Gwen was the one who gave the damn list of aliases for you guys. I don’t know why the hell you were just written as Mr. Brown, but that’s what she picked for you!”

“Goddamnit–” Hobie clenches his fists in the air with a frustrated inhale, briefly lamenting why none of the Spiders know how to lie properly, before heaving out another sigh. “Y’know what, whatever. Fine. I don’t– just– just keep going.”

As Hobie drops back down on his seat with a disgruntled huff, you roll your eyes with a slow angry exhale before you press play on the recorder again. “As stated before, Spider-Man, also known as Mr. Brown, is in interview room 138 with me today for the metahuman criminal attack at a wedding in Central Park. As requested by Ghost Spider, the interviewee will be referred to by an alias to protect their civilian identities if there is an unforeseeable future where any tapes involving the vigilante group fall into the wrong hands.”

You clear your throat before looking up at him with a professional, impassive deadpan. “Now, Mr. Brown, thank you for coming into this interview–”

“You seriously gon’ call me Mr. Brown,” Hobie scoffs under his breath as he crosses his arms against his chest, and your eye twitches again as you glare at him across the table.

“Are we really doing this now?”

“Oh my god– no, I just– this thing is just–”

“I’m at work, okay–”

“Yeah, I get that, but Mr. Brown is just fucking stu–”

“So the thing here with me, ‘bie, is that I’m at work right now. Okay?”

Hobie clicks his tongue and looks away from you again, ignoring the small flutter from hearing your slip of the tongue with that stupid pet name. Meanwhile your eyes harden and sharpen at him as you stare daggers at him, one of your hands balling up into a fist as you take another breath to calm down before you continue on with the interview.

“So, Mr. Brown,” you emphasize with as much irritation in your voice as you can without breaking your professional demeanor while glancing at the papers, “Based on my understanding with one of the written interviews with Spider-Byte at the crime scene, you were one of the first respondents who arrived at the scene to stop the attack of…”

You glance at the paper again and raise an eyebrow, your eyebrows furrowing in slight disbelief of the next words coming out of your mouth.

“...Styx and Stone.”

“May break my bones,” Hobie mutters under his breath as he glances at you with a bored look again before straightening up on his seat. “Yeah, I was one of the first respondents to arrive at the scene, along with another vigilante who was there before me.”

In a petty impulse, a strained smirk curls up on his face. “Black Cat, who I have personally worked very intimately with along with the rest of the Spider-Gang–”

CLICK!

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you–”

“Fuck you–”

“No, fuck you–”

“Go fuck yourself–”

“A’ight, I don’ actually want to do this–” Hobie growls out as he holds his hands up in a frustrated surrender, but you were still fuming across from him.

“I always knew there was something going on between you two–”

“No, there was nothing–” Hobie sputters out as he slams his hands against the table and pushes himself up from the table and glares at you– “there is NOTHING between me and Felicia–”

“Felicia?!” You bark back as you follow suit, slamming your own hands against the wooden table and pushing yourself up. “Oh, so you two are on first name bases now, since you two are so intimately acquainted–”

“Oh my fucking god–”

“You’re such a piece of shit, you fucking dog–”

“No, don’t even start this shit!” Hobie’s voice grows louder and rumbles against the walls.

“Oh, please–” you scoff as an overwhelming surge of adrenaline grows and lumps up in the back of your throat– “so you’re telling me you were faithful, protector of New York City–”

“I AM FAITHFUL!” Hobie screams out in anger and anguish, his hands balling up into fists as he slams one of them against the table, “I WAS FAITHFUL! I WOULD HAVE CONTINUED TO BE FAITHFUL–”

Both of you scoff and look away from each other as you both slowly lower yourselves onto your seats again, the brief fire of the familiar, bitter back-to-back from the end of your relationship now extinguishing into a slow, quiet simmer. After a long moment of awkward silence, Hobie lets out a defeated sigh.

“...’s not actually like that,” he quietly admits as he slowly slumps down on the metal chair, the hard edges digging into his flesh. “I just…”

Your eyes flick back to him, his figure almost shrinking under your scrutiny before Hobie finally looks at you with an unreadable expression. 

“I…I’m just miffed, alright?” he adds on with a slight sulk. “She was there to try to nab some expensive necklace the bride had ‘cuz the groom was from some rich family, so it was just a coincidence for her to be there during the attack…”

Hobie squirms under your hawk-like gaze, oblivious to your eyes softening slightly the longer you look at him. “I don’t– I don’t why I said it like that, it was honestly just business as usual…”

You stay quiet as he trails off, the raw hurt and resentment still lingering in your chest, before you look back down at the papers with a tired sigh of your own. “Business. Right.”

You absently worry your bottom lip with your front teeth, which Hobie’s eyes briefly linger onto before flicking away, before you glance back up to him and press the play button on the recorder again. “So, what? Was that attack from Styx and Stone just a coincidence or something, or are they connected to like a bigger organization like the Sinister Six–”

“No, no,” Hobie instantly shakes his head as he runs his fingers along his dreads, “it’s a fucking coincidence. The gang and I made sure to look into them ‘n everythin’. Think one of them had some personal connection with the bride’s side or sumthin’.”

You let out a low acknowledging hum as you flip through some of the papers. “Hm, yeah, I think one of my colleagues got that written down, but I don’t think they got the full details.”

Your fingers continue to leaf through the paperwork, your eyes downcast to avoid looking at him now. “Did you or any other member find out what the connection was, or if you heard any other conspiracy of another attack from the duo or a key witness at the scene?”

Hobie’s face drops to a pensive frown as his hand reaches up to scratch the scruff of his chin. “According to Stone, I think, his partner used to work for the bride’s father’s research company, and the father laid him off and cut the funding of his lab work or sumthin’. Tryin’ t’ r’member what that company’s called. Sumthin’ Chemical–”

“No, the name is fucking pretentious,” you mutter under your breath as you grab one of the papers and bring it closer to yourself. “Symbi-Ottic Chemical.”

“Yeah, that,” Hobie nods along with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Apparently they had some scandal involving some animal-testing that they had to sweep under the rug. Pinned the blame on the scientist one of the duo, and he wanted some revenge ‘n shit. Petty shit.”

You give another hum of tepid acknowledgement as you grab the rest of the papers on the table and shuffle them, your face reverting back to that impassive deadpan before you stop the recording again. Hobie raises his pierced eyebrow in confusion before you prop your elbows on the table and lean forward.

“This is strictly off the record,” you sigh with reluctance, your fingers fidgeting slightly against each other, “I just came across this information, so not even Captain Stacy and the rest of my team know about this, but…”

Hobie slowly leans forward against the table, waiting for you to continue. You hesitate from his gradual closeness before you glance away and brush it off.

“Symbi-Ottic Chemical is a branching company of Alchemax.”

Hobie’s eyes widen as you continue. “And knowing that Alchemax was a merger between Oscorp and another chemical company, I am merely speculating that the attack at Central Park and Alchemax might be more connected to each other than we both initially thought…”

You shrug while setting the stack of papers down on the table. “I don’t know. I’m just… I doubt this can actually be related to the Sinister Six since Osborn is gone, and I don’t have any conclusive evidence or anything like that, but…I’m trusting you guys could look into that hunch for me, okay?...”

Still reeling from that small revelation, Hobie quietly nods as he grabs his mask from the table. Your eyes glance over at the spiked mask before you shake your head and look away with a huff of disbelief.

“My life’s a fucking comic book.”

“Okay, seriously–”

Hobie stares at you in disbelief while you glare back at him, “No, because this whole–” you gesture to his spider suit in frustration– “costume getup, supervillain attacks and conspiracies, and the whole secret identity - slash - double-life bullshit is getting ridiculous!”

Hobie groans as he rubs his face against his hands before looking back at you with a tired stare. “Y/N, you’re still in law enforcement. You’re still taking care of normal crime shit, not just the metahuman cases–”

“Oh, oh– so I should just get used to stopping some purse snatcher that may or may not have some fucking superpower that could–”

You quickly cut yourself off and hold your hands up in the air, the headache from before gradually throbbing as you take another breather. “I…probably… go through, like, six cups of coffee a night just to go through all the paperwork for these metahuman cases–”

“That is so bad for you, Cherry,” Hobie interjects with a flash of concern in his eyes, not noticing his slip of the tongue, “you could at least call me or something if you’re struggling with that–”

“Oh, what, so you can do your fucking–” you wiggle your fingers in agitation– “spidey hands?!”

Hobie groans into his hands again, his fingers pressing against his eyeballs in frustration as tension builds up in his shoulders. His hands slowly drag down to look at you with a haggard stare. “Look, I- I don’t want to argue with you about this…”

“I joined the forces so I can help people, Hobie,” you cross your arms against your chest as your eyes grow glassy, ignoring the burning sensation rising up in your chest. “I didn’t sign up to deal with the politics between humans and metahumans and the cleanup of the aftermath–”

Hobie swallows down the bile burning the back of his throat as you look away with a sniffle, refusing to look vulnerable in front of him before you look back with a tired look.

“...when Peter and Miles were trying to stop The Sandman from rampaging last week, one of my colleagues and I got hit by a sand attack,” you grumble with a slight flush on your cheeks. “Do you realize how unpleasant it is to get sand out from between your ass cheeks and other crevices in your body after a fucking week?”

Hobie lets out a small huff of laughter in spite of himself before clearing his throat to stifle the rest of the laughter. “I-I can only imagine…”

He continues to look at you, his eyes traveling along your face and body as you sit in front of him. Your dark circles are more prominent to him now, your shoulders tense and in a proper need of a massage, your cuticles picked to hell– god, you picked up your skin picking habit again– and the dimmed light in your eyes. His heart painfully lurches at the sight as his face drops to a pensive frown.

“Look, Y/N, what the hell do you want me to say?” Hobie whispers to you, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m sorry? I’m sorry that we met? I’m sorry that I fell in love with you? That you fell in love with me? That we got together and I trusted you with my secret and everybody elses’?”

His breath hitches as he continues, the back of his eyes burning while his eyes start to get glassy too. “I’m sorry that when you graduated from the police academy and joined the forces, you got caught up in one of Green Goblin’s attacks and almost died in your first year? I’m sorry that I was stubborn and kept trying to push you to quit when you didn’t want to? I’m sorry that I broke up with you when you kept refusing? That I basically dragged you into this whole thing where you have to be a fucking mediator between the gang and those blue pigs now. That you’ve been talking to Gwen and Miles while avoiding me this whole time for five years even though I gave you a bloody fucking Web-Watch to contact me–”

He quickly looks away to the ceiling, refusing to let the tears in his eyes roll down his cheeks, before he lets out a shaky exhale and looks at you again. His chest aches again at the sight of you shaken up, your own eyes welling up as your face pinches up to fight off your own tears.

“What do you want me to say?” his voice comes out in a defeated, broken whisper. “And please, please, don’t call me Spider-Punk, Spider-Man, and especially Mr. Brown…”

A stray tear rolls off your cheek at his quiet plea, hesitation and longing briefly flickering in your eyes, and you turn your head away to wipe the tear streak off with a sniffle before clicking the play button on the recorder again.

“...Mr. Brown, thank you for your time.”

A sharp sting stabs at Hobie’s chest at your answer, but he reluctantly nods before languidly standing up from his seat and slides his mask back on. “Yeah, sure. I’ll…I’ll give you a ring or have someone else in the gang to, if we find out anything more about your case.”

You nod with a solemn frown as you slowly stand up and shuffle the papers before stopping the recorder one last time. With a heavy heart Hobie starts to walk towards the door, his heavy combat boots echoing against the walls as his body itches to finally leave the stifling interrogation room.

His hand wraps around the cold metal door handle, but before he can pull it open, his ears pick up soft footsteps behind him.

“Hobie…”

You slowly approach behind him, your eyes lingering on the planes of his back, even with the layers of his spandex suit and leather vest covering his towering figure. Memories briefly flicker in your mind, one of a younger, much happier Hobie wrapping his arms around you, peppering kisses against your face until you burst out laughing with him. Ones of him holding onto you as he swings through New York with his web-shooters, both of you flying against the sunset and over the cityscape with adrenaline running through your veins. Ones of the quiet nights in your little crappy one-bedroom apartment where you both fall asleep in each others’ arms after he comes home from patrol, safe and sound and with you–

You swallow down the lump in your throat before you quietly speak again.

“...please be safe.”

For me, you end your last words in your thoughts, not finding the courage to say it out loud after seeing him for the first time in five years.

Hobie stands frozen in front of you, his back still facing you, making you stare at that spider emblem on his vest, his symbol for his role as Spider-Man.

Before you can take it back, he suddenly turns around and pulls his mask halfway up before pulling you closer to him, pressing his lips against your forehead goodbye. He just as quickly pulls away from you and lets go of you before yanking his mask down and slipping out of the interrogation room, leaving you standing there alone stunned and flustered. 

Meanwhile, Hobie rushes out of the police station with a flick of the wrist and a web shooting out of his shooter before he swings off and escapes to the city, his mind racing and his heart thrumming against his ribcage. Depending how the rest of the day goes, he’s either going to be dealing with more silence or an angry/flustered call from a soon-to-be sergeant.

[nikkeora]

octobie week 2: anarchy (ft. blobie)

non shading/slightly alt versions below cut

changed hobie's costume a lil and i kinda like this better ngl

event: @the-kr8tor

banner(s): @mushroom-graphics-allotment

refs/inspo:

full disclosure i did trace far left but it saved me a tonna time, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[punx-artz]

OCTOBIE WEEK ONE IS COMPLETE DON’T MIND THE FACT IM 2 DAYS LATE GUYS 🙏🙏🙏

@the-kr8tor worked up the courage to tag you in this for octobie 👍

Version w/ out the text thingy below

Anyways here ya go!!! I’m scurrying off to the next prompt of the week now 🔥🔥🔥

(Banner by @mushroom-graphics-allotment)

[sareenawails]

ROBIN HOOD HOBIE

YIPPEE OCTOBIE WEEK 3!!

I wanted to make something that looked more realistic and colorful

I'm really proud of myself for this one!

Here's his full outfit

I think I did an ok job at making it feel medieval but I didn't want to lose Hobie's punkness

References

octobie event by @the-kr8tor

banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Robin Hood au

-I voted for medieval theme just cuz I wanted the excuse to draw this lol

-Anyways here’s very bad and lazy plot summary of this hobie au

-English is not my first language so if this is bad please bear with me I'm not a writer for a reason.

-Like the original folklore tale, this is set in medieval England

-Hobie is an outlaw, who with a group of other outlaws called the Merry Band ( originally called merry men but I don't like that soo), steals from the wealthy and gives back to the poor

-He goes by the name Robin Hood to hide his identity( so he’s less easy to track idk)

-Anyways, in this universe Y/N (or an OC whatever you prefer) is part of the royal family or a wealthy noble family.

-They are very sheltered due to the death of loved one (probably their mom or sister)- left their father very emotionally scarred, so he’s very overprotective of them

-for whatever reason, y/n and hobie run in into each other and hobie steals an expensive piece of jewelry from them(necklace, bracelet, brooch, whatever doesn’t really matter)

-This piece of jewelry however holds a lot of emotional value to them because it was given to them by their aforementioned deceased loved one.

-They manage to run into hobie again ( probably because they were trying to track him down and he catches on to what they were doing and decided to confront them) and tries to get their heirloom back

-He tells Y/N that he’ll give them their heirloom back if and only if they become a sort of spy for him. Someone who spends time around nobles and wealthy merchants and can give him insider information ( Who has the most money, whos an easy target, where and when would he be able to find them, etc useful info)

-Y/N is obviously very put off by this offer, after all their whole life they’ve been raised to be a respectable figure in their kingdom. Working with one of the kingdom’s most wanted criminals would be a dangerous, bizzare thing to do; It could get them in serious trouble with the law, bring shame to their family’s name, get them disowned all together.

-The risk is big but their desire to get their heirloom back is even bigger, so reluctantly they agree.

-From them their odd relationship begins. It’s a very enemies to friends to lovers kind of thing (I'm basic I know)

- Y/N sees hobie as a dirty criminal who wants to take advantage of them and would throw them under the bus if the need arises

-Hobie sees them as nothing more than another pompous noble who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves.

-It’s a very “strictly business” relationship due to their refusal to get along with each other.

-The longer they spend working together the more they get to know more about the other's side of the story.

-Hobie learns about how sheltered Y/N is, how they have a double life as commoner and royal, and how much they yearn for a more independent life. He learns that y/n is not as selfish and heartless as he thought they were, they’re just naive about a lot of things.

-Y/N learns about what hobie’s life was like growing up as one of the many unfortunate people in the kingdom. Having to scrounge and steal in order to survive, having to go on days on an empty stomach in order to save what little he had. They learn why he chose to do the things he does and that he and his crew are purposefully painted in bad light as criminals for doing what the rich aren’t willing to do.

-As they get closer they start looking out for each other more

-Y/N helps him cover up his tracks, using their high status to get him out of sticky situations. Sometimes they even help him patch up his wounds.

-In turn, hobie gives them a taste of that freedom they’ve always wanted. Going out and showing them parts of the kingdom they never seen before

Anyways that's all I really have I thought of this at like 2 am so it's not really that good.

If any actual writers feel inspired by this and want to write a better, more well thought out version then be my guest ( plz tag me i'd love to read it!)

HAPPY OCTOBIE EVERYONE!!

[the-kr8tor]

OCTOBIE '24

Welcome to the very first Octobie where we celebrate our favourite punk spider— Hobie Brown!!

Any kind of fandom work is allowed, whether it's a gif, a banner, fanfic, or fanart, or even an edit, it's absolutely okay as long as the spotlight is on our main guy— Hobie!!

Check out the Masterlist here!!

Rules:

🕸️ Hobie x oc, x spidersona, x reader, or x self ship is encouraged for any fandom work!

🕸️ Have an AU in mind? We love to see it!

🕸️ For fics there's no word count limit, go wild! Blurbs, headcanons etc. are also very welcome!

🕸️ Please use the tag #octobie and #octobie + the theme so everyone can see your work! You can also tag me so that I can reblog it and put it in the event masterlist ❤️

🕸️ Strictly no AI use.

🕸️ If your work has NSFW or suggestive content, please label it accordingly.

🕸️ Strictly not allowed: Toxic relationships, Incest, and toxic racist stereotypes.

🕸️ @the-shroom-garden will post a set of banners for the event, so if you plan to use it for your octobie post please credit her! It's here! Feel free to use!

🕸️ Be kind and encouraging to the participants. Remember to interact with their posts! Reblogs are highly appreciated!

🕸️ And finally, have fun creating! The themes are there as guides, be creative with them! (Themes run from Mondays to Sundays.) Remember we're here to celebrate Hobie! ❤️

(If there's any questions don't be shy to shoot me an ask! This is my very first character event so I'll do my very best at keeping up with all the works and queries. )

Some theme explanations under the cut if you need some help:

🎸 Comfort— Anything that is all fluffy and makes you go aww 🥺

🎸 Anarchy— Anything that has to do with bringing down the system that Hobie himself would be proud of!

🎸 Wild Card— Literally anything goes here! If your voted theme didn't make the cut, this is your chance to showcase them!

🎸 Halloween— Everything that is spooky, creepy and brings shivers down your spine!

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[michelleart8]

Octobie Month🎸

Week 1 : Comfort

After a long day of protest and fight, he finally rests by taking a bath and accidentally sleeps in lol

I wanted to imitate his actual artstyle being colorful papers and posters. Hope you like it :33

Credit to @mushroom-graphics-allotment for the banner and @the-kr8tor for the idea of Octobie

[juineri]

turning all my studies into hobies ❓ more likely than u think !! Perfect for wildcard week hehe

Look is from simone rocha f22 and i was in looove with the back cut detail

[yumeaoka-chan]

My Love (Adorn You)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Spider-Punk x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Cursing, sleepy times, clingy hobie, touchy hobie, no physical description of reader, can be read as any gender for reader (just cuddly feel good times), title based off of Adorn by Miguel (wrote this listening to it, ngl)

Summary: It's been a while since you've gotten a whole weekend off and Hobie's particularly clingy this morning. Also, screw your job.

A/N: Credit to @mushroom-graphics-allotment for the lovely banners! My shorter second piece for the 1st week of Octobie!!! I'm having a blast coming up with more one-shots @the-kr8tor 💕

Light from the rising sun gently peeks through the curtains and spills into the bedroom, hitting your face and stirring you awake. You slowly blink away the sleep from your eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you stir ever slightly in your boyfriend's arms. Hobie's soft snores slowly cease, eyebrows furrowing and eyes cracking open ever so slightly. He looks at you before glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside him, grumbling and pulling you closer to him once he sees the time.

“Too early… Sleep more, lovie,” he mumbles softly, breath tickling the shell of your ear. You let out a sleepy hum as you bring up a hand to softly scratch at the coarse hair just above the nape of his neck. Hobie lets out a pleased, sleepy sounding purr before burying his face into your neck, one of his hands splayed over your back while the other gently grips your hip. He pulls you closer against his frame as he drifts back off to sleep, the warmth you radiate welcoming on this chilly morning.

You almost let the peacefulness of it all lull you back to sleep, until the sudden thought of your job makes you sit up abruptly. Hobie groans when you do, hands trying to pull you back down to his embrace.

“No, Hobes. Gotta get to work,” You say with a tired sigh. Hobie sits up and wraps his arms around your waist, face tucked into your shoulder. His lips press sleepy kisses along your skin as he tugs you closer.

“It's Saturday, baby. You're off, remember?” Your boyfriend's quiet mumbles make you lean against him, silently thanking whatever entity is out there that you're off. You weren't sure you'd even be able to make it in today anyways, with how exhausted you feel. You allow Hobie to pull you back down onto the bed, burying your face into his chest as you two bask in the warmth of one another. Sleep welcomes you both with open arms, the two of you not stirring awake again until it's almost noon.

When you do wake up again, you try to get up from the bed, eager to start on the plethora of chores that you know are waiting for you. Your boyfriend seems to have other plans, however. With a disapproving sound, he pulls you back down to lay beside him, face nuzzling against your own. A huff of mild annoyance leaves you as he peppers kisses along your jaw, a knowing smile on his lips all the while.

“You ain't goin’ nowhere, sweetheart. It's been days since I've had you all to myself.” His words make you slightly less irritated with him, eyes softening as you turn your head to look at him properly. It's true that you've been too busy lately. Your job didn't understand the fact that you're a human being with needs, clearly, always making you do doubles and working you over time. Without the over time pay. One of your hands moves up to gently fiddle with his multiple ear piercings, fingers brushing over the silver jewelry. You smile as he leans into your touch

“I know. ‘M sorry for being so busy, Hobie. Work has just been… ugh.”

“Love, I mean this in the most disrespectful way possible. Fuck your job. You should just quit.” You look at the man with a raised eyebrow, as if his suggestion was out of the question. Of course you'd thought about quitting before, but you had concerns about just leaving the job you'd had for over two years.

“Quit? Not saying I don't want to, but where else will I find that pays as much?” Hobie hums softly in your ear before pushing up on one elbow in order to look down at you.

“You need a change of pace. Quit and start up that business you've always wanted to.” He leans down to smooch the little pout off of your face, chuckling when you chase after his lips. “I've got your back, always. I'll help support you however you need.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest at his words, his offer to support you making you more in love with him than you ever thought possible. Smiling softly, you lift up a hand to gently trace the curves of his jaw, fingers lightly brushing over his cheeks. Hobie looks down at you all the while, seemingly lovestruck as he leans further into your touch. A dopey grin on his face, he leans down to brush his lips against yours with all the tenderness of a feather, his piercing cool against your skin.

“Quit f’me, lovie,” he breathes out, voice a low whisper. A soft snort leaves you and you playfully press your hand on his face, practically mushing him.

“ You're a bad influence, Hobie Brown. You just want me to quit so you can have me like this everyday.”

He grins and licks a fat stripe up your palm, making you squeal and recoil your hand in disgust. A laugh leaves him as you swiftly wipe your hand free of saliva on his arm. “I'm not denying it, am I?” He says with a cheeky gleam in his eyes.

It makes you roll your eyes, a reluctant smile ghosting your lips as he presses more kisses into the crook of your neck. After a few moments of comfortable silence between you, you try to get up once more, pushing your body off of the bed. Hobie has other ideas, it seems, tightening his arms around your waist and relaxing his entire weight on top of you. You groan and push at his shoulders, pouting at the chorus of little snickers that leave him.

“Planning to keep me hostage all day, Hobart…? We've got chores.”

“Sweetheart, fuck those chores. You're my teddy for the day, mm? I'll even order us some food, just so you won't get outta bed. Now just be good f’me and let me love you.”

You let out a long, exasperated sigh at his words, snuggling closer to him despite yourself. It's safe to say that not a lick of chores had gotten done that day.

[pinksugarscrub]

Guts

Hobie Brown x fem! spider! reader

Event by @the-kr8tor and banners by @the-shroom-garden

Thank you @hyperfix-wip! (beta reader) you know how excited I was to finally finish

Can you tell I like Olivia Rodrigo yet? Thanks to my little brother for forcing having me to listen to her music 💜

word count: 1,770

parts: 1, 2

cw: cursing, suggestive comment from Peter, and simping

~

Tap, tap, tap

Tap, tap, tap

“Oi mate-” Hobie’s foot tapping falters as he turns around.

“You look bloody fit,” Ned groans. Draped over the edge of Hobie’s bed bored out of his mind. “Will you get out of here? You’ve only got ten minutes.”

Hobie’s shoulders sink as he glances at himself in the mirror again. His fingers running over the leather of his jacket. A plush lining to keep him warm after your persistent warnings about New York Autumn.

“Oh mate…” Ned’s expression falters as he turns to lay on his stomach. “You’re really worried about this.”

Hobie swallows as he tears his gaze away from his reflection. “No shit.”

Now Hobie knows tonight is nothing more than a casual dinner. It really isn’t anything special. Just pie and more pie and oh wait, more pie. But it’s also the first time he’ll meet your family and the encounter feels more like an indoctrination than an introduction.

He wants to make a good impression and when did he become the kind of person to care about impressions? It’s just that these people care about you and you care about them ten fold. If he fucks it up with them will he even have a chance with you? 

Hobie can see you smile in the back of his mind. He doesn’t feel good enough for you but he also doesn’t want anyone else to have you either. Doesn’t that sound egregious.

He wants to hear you sing. He really does and he’s somewhat terrified the moment he does he’s going to fall deeper in love with you. 

He really wants to be there for every wonderful moment the way you’ve been there for him. There isn’t a show you’ve missed or a song you haven’t listened to that he’s recommended. Hobie wants to be by your side and the feeling is as suffocating as it is satisfying. He didn’t even know you played until he caught you fiddling with his guitar. 

Is it weird he wants to hold you in his lap while you strum a few chords? Sing to him like his own personal songbird.

Damn he was whipped.

“Listen, Hobs.” Ned’s hand clasps his shoulder. He softens his voice too to a tone only reserved for moments much like this one. “You’ve got to trust her.”

Trust her? With what? His unyielding affection and admiration.

“If it’s meant to be it’ll work out.” Ned bites his tongue. Unsure if he’s said the right or the wrong thing. 

Hobie sighs and finally turns to Ned. A half hearted smile on his lips as he pats his hand. “I know but…”

“Doesn’t make waiting any less shitty?” Ned replies. A weak laugh escaped him. 

“Yeah,” Hobie chuckles. Wrapping his arms around Ned and becoming dead weight. 

“Want me to go with you?” Ned shifts Hobie in his arms to keep the two of them from collapsing. 

“Nah, I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“You’re not asking, I'm telling.”

Their flat goes quiet and Ned knows Hobie is seriously debating the idea so without much thought he drags him along on his way to his room next door. 

“Is it a shithole? Because I don’t want to lose my good chucks.” 

“It’s a good part of town,” Hobie mumbles. Face hot as his nerves finally seem to settle. “Thanks Neddy.”

“Shut up and get off,” Ned huffs. Snatching his favorite jumper and searching for a pair of jeans. 

“Really mate-” Hobie slowly grins as Ned shoves him off. It deters him none as he makes obnoxious kissing noises. “You’re the best.”

“Bloody back off!” Ned chokes on a laugh. “These lips aren’t for you, you little shit.”

“Promise I’ll make it up to your date.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near Riri.”

Ned cringes as soon as the words leave his lips. Well, fuck.

“Riri!?” 

-

The venue is loud. Not burst your eardrums loud which Ned agrees with, but definitely loud. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place mate?” Ned scans the room before shrugging. “Looks like a regular old pub to me.”

“It’s a different kind of show.”

“Really? Different how?”

Hobie doesn’t know. You were so nervous when you asked him to your show he couldn’t bring himself to pull it out of you.

“Guess we’ll have to find out-”

A quiet buzz forms from the back of his neck down his spine. Subtly he turns his head. 

“I’m too old for this.”

“Oh please, we’re in our late twenties.”

“Early thirties,” someone else corrects.

They look familiar but he can’t quite place them until one person from the group catches his eye. It’s your MJ.

“Oh, hey! I’d recognize you anywhere.” She grins as she leaves behind who he now knows to be Peter Parker and Harry Osborn. “You must be Hobie.”

 Hobie’s hands suddenly feel sweaty. “Yeah, pleasure to meet you miss.”

Ned looks over at him flabbergasted but doesn’t say a word. Only makes a twirling motion with his finger and silently mouths ‘whipped’.

Hobie glares, prepared to give him the greatest beat down of the century until Peter and Harry finally seem to catch up. Then he’s all smiles and polite laughter.

“Babe you totally ditched us b— woah, hello sailor.”

MJ sighs while pinching the bridge of her nose. Way to make a good impression, she thinks.

Peter leans in close to her ear. “I see the appeal.”

“We…we can still hear you,” Ned interjects. Perplexed as he turns to Hobie. “They do know that right?”

“Hey, Hobie right?” Harry smiles. Pushing past Peter with a much softer tone to his voice. “Our girl has told us so much about you. You must be…?”

“Ned, Leeds.” Now Ned feels like quaking in his boots and he’s not even the one needing moral support.

“Ned, ah, I’m glad you could make it.” He nods toward the stage. “Should be starting any minute. Mind if we join you?”

Hobie yelps before nodding and letting out a hurried, “yes of course.”

“Great.”

Hobie thinks Harry’s turned away for his benefit. He takes the opportunity and rubs his side. 

“Did you really have to hit me that hard?” He hisses.

“Nah, I just enjoy torturing you.”

“You little-”

“So, are you two excited?” MJ chirps back in. “You’re the first friend I think she’s ever invited to one of her shows.”

That gives Hobie pause. “How come?”

“Oh well she’s always kept to herself. Society's been good for her. I trust you’re looking out?” 

Hobie nods, “I’m taking care of her, I promise.”

MJ smiles and nods in return. “Good.”

“Looks like it’s just us.” Peter wraps his arm around MJ’s shoulder. Eyes on his phone. “Junior just texted her other friends will meet us at F.E.A.S.T. after the show.”

“So it’s just Hobs she invited?” Ned asks. Not even hiding his cheshire grin.

Peter immediately matches his energy. A cheeky grin on his lips. “Just him.”

The butterflies in Hobie’s stomach grow worse. So much worse. Then the lights shut off and cheers erupt.

To be completely frank, Hobie doesn’t pay a lick of attention to the bands on stage. He’s just waiting for a glimpse of you. 

Time doesn’t feel fast enough but when he hears your voice, he wishes he could stop it.

“Is everyone enjoying the show!” 

The cheers grow even louder and your laugh, god his heart tightens in his chest.

“Wonderful! Well, I have the honor of closing tonight so I’m pleased to introduce The Mary Janes!”

Goosebumps break out on his skin the moment the guitar riff echoes into the area. It’s the exhilarating feeling he gets from playing with Ned and the others. Listening to music with you in your car, talking nonsense all at once.

Driving on the right-side road

He says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes

And he’s got hands that-

Wait, was this song about him?

Feet on the dashboard, he's like a poem I wish I wrote

I wish I wrote

Please be about him.

And he laughs at all my jokes

And he says I'm so American

Oh, God, it's just not fair of him

To make me feel this much

His heart skips a beat when you lock eyes with him. There’s a slight falter in your voice but you push through. Smiling at him as sweat builds up on your skin.

I'd go anywhere he goes

And he says I'm so American

Oh, God, I'm gonna marry him

If he keeps this shit up

I might just be in love

God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude

Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you

The way you dress, and the books you read

I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me

When he's with me

Yeah, he’s kissing you tonight

I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon

But if the conversation ever were to come up

I don't wanna assume this stuff

But ain't it love?

I think I'm in love

Shit he wants to kiss you now.

The final chords ring out and the screams have been loudest out of the whole night. 

As soon as you’re out of sight he looks to Ned and Ned laughs. With a shove he points his best friend into the direction he’s sure the backstage is in.

“Go get em’ tiger!” MJ yells.

“Please keep the tongue to a minimum!” Peter cries.

The pounding of his heart and the smack of his boots on the floor are all he can hear. Skidding to a stop he slips through a door with a taped over sign.

He spouts apologies and jumps over drum kits until he barrels into you or, you barrel into him. You’ve really got to watch where you’re going.

“Hobie-!” You feel dizzy after the clumsy collision of limbs. “What are you doing back here?”

“Was that for me?” He asks out of breath.

You blink as you finally register his presence. A shy smile makes its way onto your face. 

“If it was?”

“If it was?” He laughs. “You’re such a cheeky little thing.”

“Hey! I’m-”

The words die on your tongue as he crashes his lips onto yours. His hands moving from your shoulders to your face. Gently caressing the skin there.

“Yeah.” You answer when you part. Dizzy for a whole different reason. “It was for you.”

Hobie laughs again.

“Well what are you waiting for?” You sigh. “Kiss me again.”

So he does.

I had so much fun participating and hope we can continue to have this mass collaboration moving forward. You all did wonderfully and if I haven't gotten to your work I hope to do so soon. Well done everyone! 🫶