Hobie Brown

English Muffin

Hobie Brown.

Hobie Brown is a menace, truly. Ever since joining the Spider HQ, he has been a lingering shadow, always poking and prodding, not to mention cracking some sarcastic yet admittedly funny comments about Miguel and the other spiders.

But unlike Hobie, I'm a much more secret menace, sometimes stealing the last coffee creamer from the cafeteria without notifying the others that work there to restock, or even taking someone's unmarked leftovers in the communal fridge of the break room. Which leads us to now.

I'm currently eating on an, what I assumed, unmarked and unclaimed english muffin in the break room of the headquarters, sitting down on one of the somewhat battered chairs in the annoyingly bright light that occasionally flickers out every so once and a while.

And right now, I've never wanted it to fizzle out so bad.

My eyes flicker up, meeting Hobies intense gaze and I freeze, mid bite. 'oh shit' I quickly think as Hobie also seems to freeze for a moment an unreadable expression on his face as he walks closer, his hands placed in his pockets of his vest.

"Is that my muffin?" He asks bluntly, although there's an amused tinge to his voice.

I shut and open my mouth, quickly putting down the English muffin back in its wrapper I had found it in, and sure enough, there is a small almost unreadable signature on the wrapper that I hadn't seen at first glance and I physically grimace.

"...maybe?" My voice squeaks out, as I gather up the courage to look back up at Hobie, I swear I hear him snicker for a moment and I can only blink in surprise as he pulls out the chair across from me, and sits down in it.

"Y'know, it's not polite to eat others food." He says, and I immediately open my mouth to apologize but he speaks before I can. "I'm just takin' the piss, love. You're fine." He says, his hand moving out of his vest pocket to make a waving motion in the air, always using his hands to speak this one.

My eyebrows shoot up at Hobies words, and as I look at him he truly doesn't seem bothered by the fact he just caught me eating his English muffin, mid bite and all. It's hard to believe that this is how he's reacting when not even last week, he reprimanded and instant mashed potato-ed another spiders front lawn before it rained as revenge for eating his cheeseburger.

"You're sure?" I ask, squinting my eyes in suspicion, gazing down at the English muffin as if it personally kicked my grandmother. "You didn't poison it or something, did you?" I question, half joking.

Hobie snorts at that, but shakes his head to my immense relief. "No, but I probably should start lockin' my food up at this rate." He shrugs and I laugh, nodding along to that. "That would probably be for everyone's best interest." I reply, my hands reaching out to take another bite of the English muffin, it truly is delicious.

It's only when I begin to think, as I take the bite that, why is he being so nice to me? Hobie and I typically don't interact unless we have been tasked together for a mission. He has always been kind to me in passing, giving an encouraging pat on the back, and telling jokes to lighten the mood when we are assigned on missions but I'm certain he does that with the other spiders as well.

After I swallow my bite, the question seemingly passes my lips before I can rationally think about it. "Why are you letting me do this?" I ask, leaning my arm on the table with my head resting on my palm. One of Hobies pierced eyebrows quirks up, and he replies amused. "We're friends, aren't we." It's not said as a question more of a statement

I blink. "So you're not planning some oddly elaborate and time consuming prank for me to clean up?" I ask.

Hobie stares at my face, "Are you going to eat my muffin, or keep askin' oddly elaborate questions?" He replies, that amused tone still there but this time with a hint of sass with his eyebrow still quirked up.

My eyes narrow, as I pick up the English muffin once more, taking another bite as my reply. Hobie rolls his eyes, with a small smile on his lips, shiny piercing at the side of his lip catching in the glint of the lighting of the breakroom. 'Look away from the pretty British man, look away from the pretty British man- oooh but he's so pretty' I think, shaking my head as a rapid blush rises to my cheeks.

I avert my eyes as, the last thing I want to do is possibly make Hobie too uncomfortable with my staring, but for a very brief moment, I think I see Hobies pupils turn into hearts.

'nah, this muffin probably is poisoned after all...'

oh geez umm no anon option SCREAMS

BUT

i read ab the hispanic s/o hcs and i absolutely ADORED it :D

sadly im not hispanic

but thats why im here

what ab hobie with an asian s/o ?

(u dont needa do this ask if you dont want to, i was just wondering :D)

(Thank you so much! I try to fulfil requests when I'm able to but please keep sending ideas guys, they're amazing!)

Hobie Brown with an Asian S/O!

-When you're cooking in the kitchen, he can't help but want to be apart of the process, volunteering for cutting veggies or asking questions for what each sauce does for each dish, and of course he's going to be your taste tester! "Oh. My. Days. This is delicious, can you make more???"

-He's intrigued in your traditional clothes if you have any, maybe even getting inspiration for a few of his tinkerings with the patterns from your clothes in mind, adding the patterns to his devices with his own punk flare. He would often make little jewelry pieces for you as well, noticing what you prefer, be it earrings, bracelets, necklaces or rings, he's taking note of what you like to wear and what you don't for future gifts!

-When you get to cleaning the apartment, he's cleaning right beside you as you both talk and laugh about how your days went, and when you're both finally finished, Hobie suggests that you guys make dinner together, trying eagerly to learn your delicious family recipes. "I'm not saying that I eat this everyday if I could but.... actually yes that's what I'm saying."

Hobie Brown with an asthmatic S/O

This man is stressed, he knows you can take care of yourself but seeing you have an asthma attack first hand has made him a bit of a mother hen at times, even though he tries not to be.

Bundles you extra warm and tight in the winter, and makes sure you have your inhaler always accessible when it's summer or spring.

He knows you have pockets but, just as a small gift he makes a small pouch for your inhaler, adding some stickers to remember him by on it.

When he spars with you, he would check in if he hears you get a bit wheezy. "You feelin' alright, love?" "Yes, babe, just like ten minutes ago." "Jus checking on my trouble n strife is all."

If you have any specific allergies or anything makes your asthma act up, he's removing the source instantly if he can help it. An plant? Gone. An furry animal in shedding season? He's luring the it away with a treat and pets, hurriedly washing his hands before returning to you.

If you forget about your inhaler at times, you're getting major attitude. "You got your inhaler, lovey?" "Yes, babe." "...you're sure." An pause..."yes..." "Then why am I looking at it on the bedside table." Another long silence. "I dunno."

Sickly Sweet Part II

I shuffle about in the kitchen, buttering two pieces of toast onto a plate before walking over towards the stove, stirring the pot of soup with the spoon sticking out of it. The atmosphere is almost peaceful if it weren't for the sound of a ball bouncing off of a wall coming from the bedroom down the hall.

Tap...tap...tap.

Then silence.

"Baaaaaabe?" Hobies stuffy voice rings out from the open bedroom door, and I can't help the small tinge of frustration in my tone.

"Yes, Hobie?" I call back over my shoulder, opening up a cupboard above the stove to grab a tray as well as a bowl for the soup.

Another beat of silence passes.

"That ain't right...you callin' me by my government name jus cause you're upset with me." He whines.

At that, I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Well, sweetheart if you weren't kissing all up on me when I was sick we wouldn't be in this position." I throw over my shoulder, before facing the soup once more, filling it up to the brim with homemade chicken soupy goodness, placing it on the tray next to the two slices of toast on the small plate.

Another beat of silence before a sneeze rings out from the bedroom, an small irritated groan following afterwards. I begin to walk towards the bedroom, tray in hand and once I enter the doorway I'm greeted with the sight of Hobie, burrowed underneath at least four blankets with a cold compress on his head looking absolutely miserable.

"I ain't pleading the fifth..." He murmurs, looking at me with tired puppy dog eyes, the lack of eyeliner apparent due to him feeling too sick to put any on himself but his natural eye bags are as present as ever. I give an amused huff as I walk closer, setting the tray of hearty food on the makeshift-crate before sitting beside him.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, removing the cold compress on his forehead and replacing it with the back of my hand, checking his temperature. 'still hot' I think to myself.

"Miserable, I think this may be it for me." Hobie grunts, but leans into my hand regardless of how gross he feels right now.

"I'd like to write my last will and testament." He groans. "You'll get everything of course, lovey, but Pav gets my record player, he's been eyeing it for months I swear it-" I interrupt Hobie's tangent with a gentle shove to the forehead, making him lay down on the pillows.

"You're not dying, my god. Are you always this insufferable?" I question although I already know the answer, and letting out a small laugh, I had the same thing not even a week ago and I wasn't nearly as bad as Hobie.

Hobie merely sniffles, and nods. "You love that about me." He comments, familiar cocky smile shining on his lips.

I merely sigh and nod, "Yes, I do love that about you." Unable to stop the small smile of fondness in my face, my hands move and gather the tray of food from the side table, and place it on his lap.

"C'mon, eat and get your strength up." I gently urge, and Hobie sits back up, eyeing the food before taking one of the toasts from the plate and dipping it into the bowl of soup before tearing a bite out of it. He hums in quiet delight at the taste before swallowing.

"Thank you, Sweet pea. Mean it." He says, tired eyes squinting up as he smiles at me, before snuggling himself further into the pillows behind him.

"I don't suppose your bedside manner includes kisses and cuddles?" He suggests with a cheesy smile and eyebrow wiggle, taking another bite of the soup damp toast.

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. "Not happening." I say to which Hobie nods, shrugging his shoulders. "Was worth a shot." He smiles anyway.

Hobie Brown Turn Ons Headcanons!

Pulling him towards you, he's tall and he knows it, so when he gets pulled down to your height for a moment his mind genuinely goes blank, but if you pull him in by his choker? Have fun pulling him off of you.

Wearing an article of his clothing, he can't help but admire your figure, the curves and dips of how you make his shirt or jacket look. He also can't help but scoot closer, his hands drifting beneath the fabric as he stands behind you, his hands trailing higher and higher..."You look delectable, babe, mind if I have a taste?" He would ask, but he's already spinning you around and on his knees, spreading your legs.

Begging. Hobie loves to hear you beg, it doesn't matter if it already started in bed or if you're asking him sweetly to get you the cookies from utop an high shelf in the pantry, he's teasing you. "Say it again, and I might.." he would say with an small cheeky grin.

Play wrestling with his partner, yeah, sure, he does it with his friends but with his partner it's a whole different level of intimacy. Say you and him are play wrestling over the remote, and finally Hobie has got you pinned beneath him with your hands above your head with the remote gripped tightly in your hand, panting slightly. He would huff a bit, leaning in to kiss you keeping your hands above your head. "Fuck the remote-" let's just say it would escalate very quickly to you being beneath him panting for an entirely different reason.

Hobie Brown with an mute S/O!

-Hobie I feel would already know sign language, sometimes just finger spelling to keep his skills up to par. So when he meets his future mute S/O, he sighs much more around then, just to get them comfortable and not so subtly let them know he signs. He thinks he's so smooth until he accidentally one day trips his future s/o, he panics and forgets all signs and feels horrible but his future partners shoulders would just bounce up and down with an smile, their version of laughing. Yeah. He's smitten from that moment on.

-Once him and his S/O start dating, he's incredibly attentive from the start. He knows that his partner can take care of themselves but that won't stop him from telling the person who made your burger that you asked for no pickles, hand on his hip expectantly. (Not rudely ofc but, he would let his displeasure be known)

-Whenever he's not around his partner, he would just be so used to finger spelling and signing it's second nature, say he's on patrol and he's just finger spelling the lyrics to one of his favorite songs, thinking of his partner.

Yandere Hobie Headcanons

-Hobie never was one for labels but upon meeting you, an new addition to spider society, he was instantly smitten. He couldn't help but gravitate towards you, seeking you out whenever he returned from missions, striking up conversation whenever possible, even if just for a moment. He denies the fluttering butterflies in his stomach each time he gets a glance at you or hears your name.

-Whenever Miguel would speak to you for mission details, he couldn't help but clench and unclench his hands in his vest, barely swallowing the lump in his throat, an uncomfortable pit rising in his stomach, one he hadn't felt in a long time. 'jealously', he recalls the name of the feeling, it's ridiculous isnt it? He's jealous over you, beautiful and intelligent you talking to such an unworthy asshole like Miguel, that just wouldn't do, would it?

-His jealousy grows tenfold when you start to make other friends in the spider society, he follows you around, glaring at anyone who even gives blinks in your direction, Hobie may or may not lead you places in effort to keep you away from others, his hand on your shoulder. "Aren't you starved after that mission, luv? I know the best burger joint ever-" it's all for the best if you stick with him, after all.

-Hobie has an irritated look on his face when you get an hug from Gwen, or an fist bump with Pavtir, but on the inside, he's absolutely enraged. He then decided to up the interceptions for other spiders to interact with you at all, and you just assume it's Hobie being friendly Hobie right? No harm done, he's just...checking on you 24/7.

-Hobie practically spirals out when you get hurt on a mission, be it an sprain or a bruise, he's absolutely worried out of his mind, self loathing thoughts screaming at him for letting this happen to you. He applies ointment, checks bandages, and offers pain medication at every turn, if he was protective before, oh boy is this man never leaving your side. When Hobie is assured you're safe and asleep in your respective dimension, he types in the coordinates to whatever dimension you had been send on for the mission, tracking down the person who had injured you with terrifying precision, and ensures that they die in a way that doesn't ring any alarm bells for Miguel and the other spiders, should they find out.

-Hobie would creep carefully inside your bedroom, having gained your trust and became quick friends, he would let his fingers trail over your clothing in your closet, relishing in how your room smells like you, if you were asleep in the room, he would just kneel beside your bed, his eyes taking in every feature of your face with the softest of looks, his fingers would twitch, wanting to risk a brief hand running through your hair but he would remind himself 'not yet, not yet'.

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.

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.

Hobie Doodle <3