Sickly Sweet Part II

I really love your blog! I love reading your headcannons. :3

What about Hobie Brown dating someone who’s into Kpop? :0

(So sorry! I haven't checked my messages in a minute, thank you for the request!)

Hobie Brown with an S/O who into Kpop!

-He will listen to you rant about your new favorite song with ease, nodding along with interest knowing full well he has felt that rush of finding a new favorite, even if he may or may not be into the genre himself, he'll listen entirely content and patiently.

-If you have a favorite of a certain band, he will tease you softly everytime they show up on the television or your social media. "Oi, luv. Look, it's your girlfriend/boyfriend~" he would tease, not bothered by the fact you might have an interest in a certain person of a group.

-If you tried to get him into some of your favorite groups music, he might give it a few listens, complimenting what he likes, but, ultimately his heart probably belongs to punk rock, but...if you see him nodding his head along to your favorite bands new song, he'll avidly deny it. "Pshh, nahhh, you're imaginin' things."

-He won't be bothered if he comes back to you rewatching some movies or other series that involves your favorite group, merely cozying himself up beside you, grabbing an handful of popcorn. "Is this the one where he cheats on her? He looks punchable.."

Heatwave Romance

Right now, in the corner of your mind, you can hear your parents nostalgic and irritable words of wisdom. 'dont take things for granted' or 'eat your vegetables' and all that nonsense. But, mostly the 'dont take things for granted' part is echoing in your skull as you lay strewn about on the couch of your apartment, absolutely miserable in the sweltering heat.

Of all the days, your air conditioning had went out during Camden's annual heatwave, just your luck right? What makes it better is that your apartment is under going some construction in the lower levels, so the water has been turned off for the rest of the evening, so, no cold shower for you either! How....wonderful.

You groan, debating on moving to get up to see if there's any cooler room to be in instead of laying about on the couch, sweat beading off your skin each time you move too much. You decide to stay there for a moment longer in some desperate hope it will just get colder rather than having to actually make the effort to get up and move. You don't even lift your head when your window leading to your fire escape opens with an small 'click!', already knowing it's your best friend, Hobie Brown.

"Whew, not any better here is it, luv?" Hobie's voice is heard, and you finally lift your head to glare at Hobie for his obvious answer. "No, it's not." You murmur, slightly annoyed that your misery has company but also a bit relieved that you have someone to complain about the heat to.

Hobie hums in acknowledgement, not bothered by the irritated response you gave him. He closes the window back down with an small shove of his hand before crossing the living room, tapping your legs in silent request to move, and you oblige lifting your legs up, although when he plops down beside you on the couch, you just place your feet right onto his lap and he rolls his eyes briefly but makes no effort to shove you off, opting to slide his mask off and shove it into his pocket.

"Why don't you jus take a cold shower?" He asks, looking at you with an glint of amusement in his eyes, and the glare you give him only makes him snicker, "They shut off the buildings water, they're doing repairs or something so I can't shower, even if I wanted to." You huff, Hobie nods, clicking his tongue. "That does indeed cause a problem.."

There's an pause after you grumble in agreement, Hobie has an slightly thoughtful expression on his face, before patting your legs and you lift them instinctively at his silent request, he stands and shrugs. "Why don't you jus' come to my place, n cool down a bit?" He offers, and you can't help but perk up at that, sitting up. "Seriously? That would be awesome." You smile, Hobie smiles back at you as he nods, "Yeah, course."

You're already on your feet to dress properly, and by properly something that isn't an pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You rush into your bedroom, changing into something more suitable before walking out to see Hobie, knelt down and inspecting your broken conditioning with an focused glare. He looks at you and gestures to the air conditioning with an baffled look on his face. "What did you do to the poor thing?" He laughs in slight disbelief, standing up.

You shrug, "It just went out on me, what do you mean what did I do to it?" You scoff, eyebrows furrowing as you look at him in equal bafflement. Hobie gives you an even further confused look but shakes his head with an smile, "Just forget I said anythin', you ready to go?" He asks, already walking over towards the window he had entered through, opening it, then pulling his mask from his pocket and over his face.

You nod, following him through the window and stand on the fire escape, wiping your forehead as the heat blasts you further with being outside. Hobie then kneels down, facing away from you. "Your chariot, m'lady." He teases, and you roll your eyes playfully. "You have too many miles on you to be considered a chariot, Hobie." You laugh at your own joke and Hobie scoffs playfully back as you settle yourself on his back piggy back style, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"How dare you say something so accurate.." he laughs, one of his hands coming to grip onto your calf as you tighten your grip around his shoulders in preparation for what comes next, as well as fighting off the small flare of butterflies you feel in the pit of your stomach. "Hold tight!" Hobie shouts before jumping off of the fire escape, slinging out his webs to begin the short trek to his place on the other side of town.

It's hard to stifle the squeal that comes from your throat as you feel the wind rush past your hair and battering slightly against your face. Hobie chuckles, squeezing your calf in reassurance although there's a hint of genuine concern in the action. "Doin' alright back there, luv?" He calls out loudly to be heard over the rushing wind, you manage to wheeze out an quick, "Never better!" Moving your head to burrow slightly into the back of his neck, hoping to god he doesn't feel the heat of your blush on your cheeks. Hobie snorts at your reply, "We'll be there before you know it, promise." His slightly teasing tone turns to one of tender promise, and your cheeks practically grow hotter from his words, nodding and focusing on trying to get the blush under wraps.

It doesn't take long to get to Hobies place across town, it's a simple house boat but Hobie says any other place would just be wrong to live in as he's been there so long. Hobie swings one final web out, landing right before the door of the house boat. Hobie kneels down and releases his light grip on your leg and you carefully hop down. Hobie stands, brushing himself off before pushing the door open.

"You really should start locking your door." You huff as you walk in behind him, already feeling the cool air and atmosphere of the houseboat refreshing your attitude and body. Hobie merely shrugs, "Yeah, probably." He murmurs in nonchalance at your advice, walking further inside the houseboat and right up to his hammock bed that he swears is the most comfortable for his back, before practically falling down onto it, stretching like a cat that just woke up from an really good nap. You walk over to the couch you always sit at when you come to his house, peeling at the clearly overloved fabric of the couch out of habit. You sigh, leaning your head back as you relax, just basking in the feeling of being cold after so many hours of being stuck hot and miserable in your apartment, closing your eyes in contentment.

"You look quite cozy over there." Hobie is heard saying from his hammock bed across the room and you nod, shuffling to allow your hands behind your head. "Yeah, I am-" you stop speaking as you hear the sounds of floorboards creaking, barely having time to look to see where Hobie could possibly be going before an weight is placed on your lap, and when you look down, you're met with the sight of Hobie smiling up at you, quite smugly.

"What are you doing?" You ask, just staring at him. Hobie shrugs, even nuzzling a bit further into your lap. "You looked rather comfortable, thought I'd join is all." He hums, closing his eyes. The position doesn't...look comfortable, for Hobie at least. His head is placed in your lap, his hands clasped together loosely over his abdomen while...his legs are sticking out over the armrest of the couch, being so tall and lanky he isn't as 'compact' as he calls you and other people shorter than him.

"You don't look comfortable." You state bluntly, Hobie peeks an eye open at you, "Do you want me to move?" He asks, you furrow your eyebrows at the question, shaking your head beginning to speak again. "But-" "Then, yes, I'm comfortable." Is all he says before closing his opened eye, looking incredibly peaceful despite the uncomfortable looking position he's in.

You shrug, deciding not to push. Knowing Hobie can be most comfortable in the most weirdest of positions. You can't help but yawn slightly seeing Hobie so relaxed. "We should nap." You suggest, already closing your eyes tiredly. Hobie murmurs an slight incoherent reply, "Way a head of you luv.." before turning his body to the side, one hand laying lazily against the couch while the other makes itself comfortable underneath the crook of one of your knees, already snoring.

You instantly feel all sleepiness drain from your body at the soft touch, opening your eyes to peer down at Hobie sleeping so soundly. You smile slightly, adjusting your position slightly to allow Hobie a bit more room on the couch.

'I am so in love with you...I'm screwed .' you think as he twitches slightly in his sleep, murmuring something about having to fix your air conditioning...then to leaving the toaster running at Pavitr's?

Across the Spiderverse Characters as dances

-Hobie would be the moonwalk, he's effortless and smooth with it too, sometimes he'll do it out of pure boredom.

-Miles would be the worm, it's like the most basic dance he knows and when asked to dance, all other dances go out of his head. (Uncle Aaron one thousand percent taught him it to "get the ladies")

-Gwen would probably be the sprinkler, her motions are kinda awkward at first until she gets comfortable then her arm is just swinging with a huge smile on her face.

-Miguel would be the salsa, he just seems to know it down to a pat but he probably doesn't dance often so his motions might be a bit less fluid than what they used to be.

-Peter would insist that the dab was a dance, partly in effort to not get asked dance but upon insistence he would probably do the whip and nae nae, but add his own dance like "sling the web" into it.

-Mayday (I couldn't not add her) she's doing her own little mix of the dances with clumsy toddler limbs of course, but she would do the little toddler shuffle where she bounces up and down slightly, with a bright smile on her lips.

Hobie Brown Roommate headcanons

He's awake at the randomest of times, you'll walk out in the living room at two am and he's just sitting on the couch stitching up his vest, listening to his punk music quietly playing beside him.

Hes kinda an older brother in a way, checking up on you with a knock on your door, walking inside (with your permission of course) and touch the things that interest him, and he may or may not steal the occasional hoodie or sweatpants from you.

He would make extra portions of his food for you if you seem busy throughout the week, taking interest in what your preferences are and what you avoid.

Hes a relatively clean roommate, picking up around the house, doing chores but not without his music blasting, even trying to get you to dance with him. "C'mon, lovey! Feel the rhythm!" He would wiggle his eyebrows, trying to convince you.

If you have previous band experience, he would probably be a bit more comfortable with you, talking and rambling on the couch together about a new band he has been wanting to see and you guys would gush over your favorite bands together.

Sickly Sweet

Like Clockwork, every year in the spring I get sick. Be it the flu, extreme irritable allergies that won't go away or just a stubborn cough. It happens.

I groan, trying to shuffle some of the blankets that are cocooning and holding me hostage in my boyfriend's bed off of me, searching for a moment of rest from being so hot.

"What do you think you're doin'?" Comes from the doorway, and I practically deflate at the sound of that cocky voice I love so much.

"Babe, I need a minute without these blankets suffocating me." I quietly hiss, glaring at Hobie.

Hobie only walks closer, stopping right by my side to take the damp rag from my forehead and placing a fresh and cold one in its place.

I can't help but tense up at the sudden coldness of it but it becomes very welcomed after I get used to the feeling.

"Is this really necessary..?" I huff, but Hobie merely gives me an raised eyebrow look, and I roll my eyes.

"Open up, Lovey." He says, grabbing the thermometer from the crate-makeshift side table. I only glare at Hobie, eyes narrowed in refusal and pure stubbornness. "No."

"No?" Hobie repeats, an amused smile rising to his lips, shiny piercing at the corner of his lips catching in the dim light of the bedroom lamp.

"No, this is childish and I don't want to-" I'm interuptted by Hobie swiftly catching my jaw in one hand, placing the thermometer gently into my mouth and under my tongue, shutting my mouth around the thin piece of metal.

"Hush and let me take care of my darling, alright?" He murmurs, eyeing the thermometer and me with his own stubborn yet loving look.

All I can do is sigh and nod, letting Hobie keep me trapped underneath piles of blankets, fetching me cool rags to place on my forehead and hope I don't sweat to death.

Can we appreciate Hobie possibly not knowing all American lingo and mistakes Sloppy Joes as an Sex Reference?

Gwen: Hey, Miles! I'm feeling like I could go for a sloppy joe, how about you?

Hobie: *squints at Gwen*

Miles: I mean, yeah but they're so messy and I still have stains on my shirt from the last one-

Hobie: *chokes on saliva*

Miles and Gwen turn to Hobie:

Miles: Dude- do you want one or something?

Hobie: *Stares at them in baffled British* The fuck is an sloppy joe?????

Hobie Brown as a Lover Headcanons!

Hobie Brown as an lover would be an whirlwind, there's no denying it.

He could go from passionate and rough to slow and sensual the next moment. "Come on darlin' a little bit more, mmfh- good girl~" to "You like it rough, oh yes you do, such a good little slut f'me, aren't you?"

He is devoted to your pleasure, ensuring that no matter where or what is happening that you feel the best you can be. "You feeling good, sweetheart?...good, good."

This man lives for quickies, the thrill, the adrenaline rush from possibly being caught is just too good a temptation for him to resist. He would pull you into the back stage room of his band's hangout, and settles you on top of one of the folding tables they have lying about, and absolutely pounds you. If you complain about possibly breaking the table mid passionate moment, he would huff an laugh, "I'll buy the bloody thing if it breaks, who gives a shit?" He would shut you up with kisses the next moment, maybe even thrusting into you a bit faster to make your mouth a bit occupied with moaning his name.

He eats pussy like no ones business, he has had previous partners and he has learned plenty. He would first learn your preferences, what you prefer and what you love. He would let your hand reach down and grip onto his wicks, and he absolutely loves it when you get lost in the pleasure he's giving you and pulls on his wicks. "Ooh! Tug a bit harder, love.." he would encourage huskily against your wet folds, flicking his tongue just a bit faster to make your legs tremble under his enamored gaze, his hands firmly keeping your hips in place, often rubbing reassuring small circles into the flesh.

Hobie has an high sex drive, often times it will result in morning sex more often than not, he would roll over and tug you gently into his arms, pressing his hard length in his boxers against your thigh or against your backside, grinding slightly. His hands would trail up and down your sides as he whispers sweet nothing's into your ear. "Please, baby? I'll make you feel so good, promise..." He would whisper, and within the next moment he's in between your legs, rolling his length into you almost lazily. "Such a greedy cunt, hm?" He would tease softly, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he fucks you slow.

Love bites, he absolutely loves them. Loves to receive them and give them, if you bruise easily he would be tickled pink at the sight of your neck obliterated with bites and hickeys, if you would get a bit angry at him he would come up behind you in the mirror as you think about how to cover them up, Hobie would lean his head down on your shoulder, his eyes focused on the marks in the mirror on your neck, practically oozing pride and affection. "Hmm...s'not that bad, you wanna make me match?" He would cackle and dodge from your swatting hands.

His favorite positions would probably be with you on his lap or mating press, against any surface really. he just loves being able to see your face scrunched up in pleasure, especially if it were a situation where you had to stay quiet. His hand gripping onto your hip as he fucks into you, with one arm above your head to brace himself and fuck into you just a bit harder as you bite onto your lip to stay quiet. He would smirk, leaning close into your ear as he tugs your leg up higher onto his hip, angling himself to hit all the right spots he knows drive you crazy. "C'mon, lovey, you don't want them to hear, do you?" He would coo mockingly into your ear.

Hobie Headcanons as a Dad

It doesn't matter if he has a daughter or a son, he would one hundred percent teach them to defend themselves, not without a bit of sass of course. "Are you sure you're mine? That punch reminded me way too much of slime bouncin' off the wall."

Shoplifting. Oh, his kid wants a toy? If it's from a corporate store, he's snatching it with ease but if it's something large that his kid wants, he would just make it, or steal small parts one at a time.

Shoulder rides/piggy back rides all the time, play wrestling is always going on.

If his partner has a different accent than him, he would absolutely teach the kid to make fun of their other parents speaking. "Why is our child saying I speak like Donnie Thornberry when I'm angry..?" "Not a clue, babe." He's secretly cackling.

He wouldn't do the reach behind the seat thing in the car and say, "Dad tax". He would reach back in between stops, taking the snack/bag up front so the kids would have to steal the snacks back. "If you can steal it, s'yours."

Hobie as a Dad, would mean you'd find little sketches of his kids in little spiderman outfits with punk flare of course in the pockets of his jeans or vest, and if you just find little cut out patterns for such suits and a homemade sewing machine...no you didn't.

Not today

(Warning: The following short story involves smut! Do not read if you feel uncomfortable with that topic!)

I begin to stir from my sleep at the sound of my alarm clock buzzing on the nightstand, moving to turn it off with a sluggish hand. But, I don't have the chance to since I feel Hobies arm slug over mine and his fist connects with it first.

I'm instantly awake at the feeling of small parts of the alarm clock pelting my face. "Babe!" I hiss, and Hobie merely hums and snuggles into my shoulder as if he didn't just smash the fifth alarm clock in a row.

"That was the fifth alarm clock." I deadpan.

"Yea? Thought it was the seventh..." Hobie murmurs into my shoulder, his eyes remaining closed as he attempts to go back to sleep. "I'll getcha 'nother one later."

I shuffle away from him, and lay on my side to glare at him much to Hobies distain as he scoots closer, trying to steal my body warmth underneath the covers.

"I can feel your glare, baby. Jus' go back to sleep wit me." The end of his voice turns into a slight whine as he opens his beautiful brown eyes to give me a small pout.

I continue to glare at him, before briefly rolling my eyes at him. "You're not winning this." I huff, "You can't keep breaking my alarm clocks." My glare moves towards Hobies hand that's creeping up my thigh.

"Course, love. I could make it up to you?" Hobie's sleep thick voice suggests, his eyes flickering down to rest where his hand is stroking the skin of my upper thigh, drifting very close to the leg opening of my loose pajama shorts.

My glare falters just for a moment at the touch of his hand but my stubborn streaks proves hardy as I keep up the glare, shaking my head. "You can't possibly make up for breaking that many alarm clocks." I quietly scoff, Hobie's eyebrows quirk up at that.

"You're sure?" Hobie says softly, scooting closer to me and with familiar ease, positions my leg over his sweatpants clothed hip, laying right beside me now and my eyes flutter briefly, but I shake my head. "Nope." Even going extra by popping the P on the word.

Hobie merely snickers, and nods in false agreement. "Such a brat." Hobie breathes before one hand moves up to my chin, tilting my head up and leaning his head down to my throat, pressing soft kisses and nibbles to the sensitive flesh.

"This isn't fair." I groan softly, but make no protest to move my chin from his gentle grip nor shuffle away from him and Hobie hums in agreement against my throat. "Life ain't fair, love." As he continues his kisses his other hand moves into the hem of my pajamas pants, slipping effectively past thin barriers, his fingers delving in between already slick folds yet not entering.

"Mmfh-" I bite my lip to not give in entirely to Hobie, not letting him hear how his kisses or touches affect me. Hobie chuckles at my attempt to quiet myself, leaning back to look at me, hair still wild from sleep and cheeks flushed as his finger expertly teases around my sensitive nub, yet never directly touching it.

"You're still sure I can't make it up to you?" He asks, tilting his head as a small cocky smile finds itself on his lips, and my eyes are practically glued onto his smile, wanting absolutely nothing more than to kiss them bruised and breathless.

"I can't, I have to go to a lecture-"

Hobie scoffs at my words,before nudging my leg open further with his own and flipping the position to hover above me with one arm above my head, fingers still teasing sensitive flesh. "Not today, you're not." He says, before leaning down and kissing me deeply, his tongue already swiping my bottom lip for access and at this moment, I've never agreed with Hobie more.

Not today.

General Hobie Headcanons!

-He definitely carries a penny in his pockets just so he can use, "Penny for your thoughts?"

-Has the randomest shit in his pockets. Crumbled pieces of paper? Check. An half eaten bag of chips he was saving for later? Yep. Turning those tiny crumbled pieces of paper into balls to toss at Miguel when he isn't looking? You betcha.

-Snacks non stop yet gains nothing. He would be wandering around HQ bored as hell and eating his chips in one sitting, then eat a burger, then drink an soda in like ten minutes and still be hungry. He would stare into your soul while refilling his soda in a water cup down at the spider cafeteria.

-Hobie just has the warmest hands. He's a heater, so he gets warm very easily so him wearing crop tops and tanks should be expected frequently, I see this man just chilling in his boxers briefs at his place, absolutely miserable in the heat and only giving one word hums or grunts in response to anything he's asked.

-He has stabbed himself with his pins on more than one occasion. He switches out his pins depending on the day, but he has some sentimental ones that he refuses to take off. "Ova' my dead body, more like."

-definitely has a weird sense of humor and talks to himself on the daily, although most of it might be late night delirium because he is for sure a night owl. "Is darkness just the lack of light or is light the lack of darkness?" A pause..then a whispered continuation. "Am I just darkness with the lack of light???" Proceeds to stare at his hands as if they personally wronged him.