#YES YOU ARE HOBI

[stil-lindigo]

your favourite arach-narchists 🕷️

prints

[messylustt]

v.15.10.23 day eight: dry humping ( nsfw )

hobie brown brainrot

hobie is all sweaty as him and his band finish their performance. you had been in the crowd, smiling, clapping and nodding your head along to the music. girls beside you, all in clusters, were cheering while lowering their tops, some even with hand-made shirts that said ‘my boyfriends in a band’. quite a few of the girls had hobie’s face on it. you had learnt not to be jealous, knowing that they were just groupies, no matter how loud and provocative they could get. you focus on hobie, his ringed fingers tapping slightly at his guitar as he then scanned the crowd. stopping on you, he smiled, removing his guitar and jumping down from the stage. as he heads in your direction, you can hear a girl beside you say “i told you he’d notice me.” she brushes her hair behind her ear as she watches hobie near. you slightly shift your gaze to her, watching as she shimmied her tube top lower, waiting for hobie to arrive. that’s when you feel a hand grab your chin, turning your head back and towards your boyfriend, hobie. he doesn’t waste a second before kissing you, grinning against your mouth as he slips his hand into your hair, drawing you closer. hoots and hollar’s come from somewhere, while girls gasps and annoyed huffs come from right beside you. “hobie — ” you manage briefly against his mouth, but he just grabs your arm, not even noticing the other girls glances as he takes you back stage. he really doesn’t waste any time as he pulls you down onto his lap making a small squeak leave you. “hobie, what are you — ” he kisses you again, moving your legs to straddle him “move your hips” he mumbles against your mouth, his grip tight on them now. “i’m so fucking hard because of you, so move your hips.” at his tone you slowly begin to grind against him, his own hands guiding you as he nods, breathing heavier. “jus’ like that, luv” he kisses you again, as his own hips slightly lift up into you as you grind. his hands move under your shirt as he moves his lips to your neck, muttering about how you looked too pretty, and that next time you should wear a hood if you don’t want him to drag you back stage and make you ride him again. because the sight of you supporting his music always goes straight to his cock.

taglist below

@spiderst4rgirl @buttertubz @nayylas @cultrise @miguelsslut @eddieslooneymoonie @duckyduck25 @chysalxsm @lusttszn @lemonlotem @siidmm @Horror_sl*t @urmotherlvr @carlixa @jackdawwaquarium @vampsired @kaitoliu @diyag @shadowarchon @zabac69 @alucards-no-life-queen @certified-stargirl @andrealuvsmiguel @freehentai @vic0dyn @raexy @awniie @slut4drudy @ramiiroll @briefrebelfanalmond @kuujo @LittleAbyssGirl @oyaapeach @matchayuii @zaunsin @pinkghost222 @kodzuminx @iite-cool @urabotlmao @missbeverlyhills @winteringfalls @rostarblog @chocolatechiipsworld @mcinava @br0ken--ruby @burningpeace @myrcella-maximoff @shadowarchon @coffie-witch @die4niyahhh @oilfics @hawunts @i-do-be-vibinn @2099rk @notasadgirlipromise @Littlemissdilfloverr @3xclusive_.y0ni @killvaswrld @lynnxnnyl @hk11 @oharasmommymilkers00 @ttlynotme @mindscape123 @danikirbs @herefor-tojis-tits @m0tiveee @pixiesbored @ilikedragons09 @Connieslivrgyal

[pearlsinmyhair]

⭑ experience

thinking about how hobie is a firm believer of experiencing music.

which is not an unusual or particularly punk concept. he likes concerts because he can feel the base in his chest, on and off the stage. he likes meeting new artists because you start to understand the soul of songs alongside the sounds.

and when you tell him you love a song, he asks if you want to feel it.

and of course you interpret this as getting better speakers, or going to hear it live, or some typical way of feeling music. so when he offers up a night at his place to do so, you don’t expect anything crazy.

but hobie does his research, listening to the song over and over until ever note, every thrum, every vocal rhythm is committed to memory.

why? , you may be asking.

well, it’s much easier to fuck you into the mattress to the tune of it when he can anticipate the exact rhythm his thrusts need to be.

he’ll throw you into missionary, working you up until your dripping and needy. he’ll grab his phone and click a playlist, sliding into you as the first sounds of your song come through his bluetooth speakers.

and he commits. doesn’t matter how much you beg him for a change, he’s sticking to the song until it’s over.

“oh fuck, hobie. please-“ you whine, your hands grasping the pillow behind your head as your hips buck, trying to work him up into moving faster.

“easy there.” he coos, almost mockingly as he places a hand on your lower abdomen to press you firmly down into the bed. “i thought you liked this song.”

the sex is amazing, but it always is with hobie.

the bad part is the aftermath.

because now, when the song plays on the radio or your playlists or anywhere, you get a pavlovian response of heat between your legs and a throb in your core.

and it’s even worse when hobie’s there, because he’ll lean close and whisper

“i still remember the tune if you feel like another round.”

as his hand strokes up your thigh, cupping your crotch in his palm as you keen.

i’m back~ did you miss me?

[the-kr8tor]

Hello pookie!!

Came here to deliver 🙂‍↕️ red string AU with Hobat! I didn't gave much thought to it but maybe Reader is like BAFFLED that their soulmate is a century old vampire bloke. Like wdym this is my soulmate 🤨 but despite that Reader is proven as to why they're soulmates as Hobie shows their past lives together ☺️

I was in a haze while writing this 😌 I hope you like it bleaky!! ❤️

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except clothing), horror elements, vampire au, red string trope, CW blood, CW suggestive, fluff.

Navigation

The sudsy water drips from your hands as cicadas chirp in the night. Your record player hums from the other room, playing a soft jazz song that reminds you of home. The piles upon piles of boxes lay strewn all over the house, brown cardboard sitting in front of newly painted walls that are the same colour as the view you're currently looking at— green. Lush viridescent green that spreads across the marsh while wispy willow trees dance in the breeze.

Hands cold and soapy, you try to ignore the red string around your finger, it's rope slack like always. You gaze upon the window in front of the sink. The view is beyond beautiful with the full moon illuminating across the wetlands, and the glowing eyes of alligators blink slowly in the distance. If you told your past self that you'll be moving to the deepest place in the south, where eerie dilapidated buildings lie, and where ghost stories come alive, you'd have punched yourself and ran away from fright. But with the offer from your job, you couldn't just refuse the relocation with that big of a pay raise. And now you know why none of your co-workers took that offer when the house they provided for you is two hundred years old; and the smell of the swamp in the heat of the afternoon seeps through the ancient wooden walls of the Victorian style home.

Well, at least there's wifi in the place. Looking at cute cat pictures helps when the lights would flicker out of nowhere and whenever there's a low groan echoing throughout the house.

You sigh, limbs tired from all the heavy lifting you had to do. As your lower back aches, you shut the tap and lay the last plate over to the drying rack while you let the water swirl down into the drain. The pipes make a gurgling sound as it goes further down, and you could only hope that it's not clogged, or worse, about to burst.

Taking the dish towel over your shoulder, you can't seem to take your eyes off the scenery in front of you. There's something eerily romantic about the place with its winding hallways, arched doors, elegant carvings, and stained glass windows. Whenever you step outside, you feel like you're in another world, fireflies fly around, twisting and turning above the silvery marsh where opened maws of crocodiles lie in wait. It's as if the house and the view were straight up taken out of a gothic novel.

As you dry your hands, you blink at the slight movement in the corner of your eyes. There, a shadow lies hiding just behind a tall willow tree. Your head tilts curiously, and its head tilts back. Mimicking you.

You jump back, hip hitting the dinner table whilst a vase of roses from your company tumbles down and crashes into the floor.

“Shit!” You look over your shoulder at the mess, glass shards glinting against the fluorescent lights. Your heart thuds loudly, legs wobbly and hands clammy. Clutching your chest, you turn back towards the window, finding the shadow has gone away to god knows where.

Shaking your head, it must've been the wine's doing. You crouch down, picking up the shattered glass with the dish towel. Rose petals lay scattered around the floor, dotting along the wooden floorboards like splashes of rubies. Or blood. You take it out of your thoughts, scaring yourself while in the middle of nowhere will only have you running back to the city without the bonus you were promised.

“Ow!” You hiss, lifting up your hand only to see a deep gash in the pad of your index. Drops of crimson ebbs out of the wound, and you immediately put your finger inside your mouth to quell the pain and the bleeding.

A loud screeching noise reverberates outside, something akin to a bat shrieking into the night. The music comes to a halt, vinyl squeaking and music going backwards. Goosebumps appear on your arms, breath taken right out of your lungs. You feel as if your body has suddenly run cold, a temporary death as your hands turn numb, and eyes widening. As quick as the feeling came, it's gone within a second. Your breathing evens out, warmth returning to your cheeks. And the music starts normally again.

The string around your pinky tugs, an unfamiliar feeling that has your adrenaline coursing through your veins. The rope is taut and leading you towards the window.

You stand up abruptly, eyes glued onto the window by the sink. Fireflies flicker outside, and the marsh is just as the same as before.

Your feet move on their own as the tugging gets wilder. “What the fuck?” You look at the red string, finding that the end of it stretches towards outside the window. Outside into the darkened wetlands. “Is my soulmate a crocodile?” You joke to yourself, chuckling nervously.

You always waited for the moment that the string around your finger would move. It's always still, frozen in time while you wait for an ounce of movement from it. It might sound cliché, but you've always wanted to know who was at the other end of the crimson string, even when you always told everyone that you did not care one bit. Or that you thought that it'll never happen to you. Until now.

The music playing in the living room fades away as you walk outside. The sickly cold stings your flesh, breeze kissing your cheeks and fluttering your lashes as you slowly walk closer to the dock.

Grass crunches underfoot as the smooth jazz continues to play inside the house, muffled and sounding macabre when you come face to face with the full moon.

Grass turns to wood, and you find yourself at the end of the creaking dock.

The small fishing boat is still floating beside it, rope twisted around the wooden pillar. Water laps at the bloated wood, splashing onto your shoes.

“Come to me.”

A voice says as it's carried by the wind.

Pinpricks of gooseflesh rise up on the back of your neck, mouth turning dry and pulse quickening.

And yet, you step into the marsh without a care.

Water splashes as the cold envelopes around you. Green algae parts before you while you tread waist deep water. Your sundress floats around you, alabaster white with red roses stitched around the hem. You wade through the marsh, mud sticking to the soles of your feet.

You're entranced by the quick tugging at your string, heart beating in tandem with the pulling.

“Come to me.”

Breath stuck in your throat, you watch as a bat swoops from above. Wide wings flapping against the light of the full moon, shadow looming over your form.

You swallow thickly at the string tied around its clawed feet.

Blinking, as if struck by lightning, you wake up.

“What the fuck!” You gasp at the huge bat, turning immediately away and trying to run in the water. “Shit, my fucking soul mate is a goddamn bat!”

The string pulls at you again, this time you ignore it.

Your chest is drenched, hair sticking to your cheeks as water splashes around you.

Then a cold hand wraps around your arm, pulling and twisting you around to face him.

You're met with brilliant red eyes, face chiseled like the finest marble, silver piercings shining brighter than the moonlight.

You freeze like a deer in the headlights, gasping at the sight in front of you. He's dressed in leather, chains and spikes adorning his jacket. His eyes stay on your face, as if he's memorizing your face, as if he has done it a hundred times before.

The hand wrapped around your arm runs down over to your wrist, then to your palm. Lithe fingers hold your hand gingerly, like he's afraid of breaking a bird's wing.

You look down at his hand and your own, the string is finally at its shortest, crimson rope glowing and shimmering to the beat of your hearts.

He pulls you gently, hand still wrapped around your own as he places them on his chest. You don't feel a heartbeat, nothing but silence, not even a breath escaping from his lips.

“What are you?”

He smiles, a soft one that isn't cold at all unlike his touch.

“Your other half.” He answers, voice deep, tone reverberating through you. “My name's Hobie, Hobie Brown.”

“I don't think—” you shiver at the lapping cold water around you both. He doesn't seem bothered by it at all. “Are you real?”

Hobie, you've come to know by name and by his icy touch, brings your index, the same one with the cut over to his lips. You watch with bated breath and searing cheeks as he puts it in his mouth, crimson eyes gazing at you fondly. You feel the cold against your finger, sharp teeth grazing at your warm flesh.

He pops it out of his lips, wound completely gone.

“Did that feel real?” Hobie asks, placing your hand atop his cheek. “Does this feel real?”

“Y–Yes.”

“It's nice to finally meet you,” he utters your name with the same gentleness a lover would. And you don't even remember if you've given him your name. “I've longed to see you.” His words are laced with devotion.

Your breath trembles in your throat, stepping closer to him as you brush your thumb against his cheek. Hobie closes his eyes as he leans towards your touch.

“And I, you.”

Everything falls back in place, where it always has been.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Found a really nice photo of Hobie but the only way my Autistic brain could present this information and image was by creating this first so here you go

[whaliiwatching]

sparks fly

cleared the smoke for you

[jmdbjk]

No hurricanes.

We have 4 days left in August but it looks like there will be no hurricanes for us. We are typically waiting for one to arrive about this time every August. Definitely a welcome calm because there was already too much shit packed into this past month as it was so thank you to Mother Nature for not adding that extra layer of a shit show.

That being said, there is always next week for a hurricane. We wait. In the meantime, Episode 5 of Are You Sure? drops after I go to sleep tomorrow night.

Namjoon has been active on his IG account, he just tweaked his bio, changing the title "right place, wrong person" to all lowercase. We are holding the ship on a steady course, Captain. Seas are rough but we see the signals.

In case you didn't know, Miss Karma came back from her vacation. As of today, Min Hee Jin has been terminated as CEO of Ador.

She is being given the choice of remaining as director/producer for NewJeans but all of her stock options and whatever went poof. Good luck bitch, fighting your sexual harassment lawsuits without your CEO salary or perks. On your way out, please fumigate your office and leave the keys with the security team.

In other news, Billboard executives meeting this week to discuss major changes to Billboard Hot 100 and minor changes to Billboard 200. Can't wait to hear what this new round of fresh hell will be.

Also, Billboard having an event in Seoul to fiNd ThE nExT BTS!

Ya know... after all this time... how has no one ever realized its not the NEXT BTS anyone needs to be searching for? Yes, to the part about finding an authentic artist who can craft their own (really good) songs with lyrics that resonate. But the real key they need to find is...

... the next FANDOM that is like Army. Globally diverse from different walks of life including young, old and in-between. Loyal, loving, smart, organized, even if at times we seem to struggle to come together.

If an artist can cultivate a relationship with their fandom which consists of mutual respect and trust between them only THEN can the artist do anything, be anything, even untouchable. Hasn't anyone been listening at all? BTS has been saying for years they couldn't do anything... wouldn't be where they are... would have no reason to exist WITHOUT ARMY.

Seriously shaking my damn head. No one listens. No one.

Some other random things that are constantly doing a hit n'run inside my head...

I hope Jimin’s time with Dior menswear is finished because good lawd that shit is fugly. No. Just no:

It looks like an outfit they would be forced to wear as a penalty for losing a Run BTS game. Isn't that the same way Koreans tie up what they call a "lamb head" towel around their head to go in the public baths?

I haven’t talked about Jin at all this month. Shame on me.

He's been very very busy endearing himself not only to Army but to middle-aged men, women, kids, moms, future spouses, actors, idols, foodies, gamers, fishermen, grandmas, grandpas, the world.

Hobi will be coming home in 49(?) days!

Jimin and Jungkook are sending off their fellow soldiers with autographs as they are discharged. I guess it is somewhat comforting to read these simple messages they write to their departing comrades. It's all we have for now. I hope they are doing ok way out there in the boonies. 9 months and 15 days left.

[izzywantscheesecake]

me when i'm peacefully reading an x reader and then they say some shit like "your face turned visibly red" "he tucked a piece of hair behind your ears"

[punkeropercyjackson]

My little sister said Timebomb and Corawybie are more Ghostpunk-coded than Ghostflower-coded if you really wanna compare them to a Spiderverse yt girl x blk boy ship.She cooked and i fear she eat more than every Ekko infantalizer ever has('precious artsy black boy'and then it's a grown ass black man with a body count)

[ujustwaitsunshine]

BESTIES!! WIP ❤️

edit : finished drawing!

[solluner]

Incomplete Dia × Hobie !!! (I'm too lazy to finish the painting ...) they're two dummies </3

my summer vacations are so close 'n i think i'll make more content with them >< (even tho just two or three mutuals actually see my art here

Sketch art bellow:

[clowningaroundmars]

punkflower hcs bc i need to see more of them being cute teen boys together.... like, playful and creative and stuff

looong long wall of text under the cut (no nsfw)

♡ miles and hobie definitely exchange art often, even collabing on some punk zines and graffiti pieces occasionally. hobie also makes mixtapes on cassettes and slaps a million stickers on them just for his bf. miles appreciates the kind gesture but reminds hobie that he doesnt have a cassette player. "yet," hobie tells him with a wink :)

♡ miles draws a million little doodles for hobie on scrap paper, post it notes, hobie's gear, hobie himself. ofc hobie loves them all, esp when he gets to go home with his arms and chest covered in stars, cartoons, graffiti, and hearts

♡ miles is a lot more shy about dancing in public than hobie is, but whenever they manage to have any downtime at all hobie will wrap his arms around miles and sway them around. if music is playing anywhere, hobie will bop to it and get miles to join in

♡ hobie's love language? touch. any kind, anytime, anywhere, for any reason. words of affirmation come next

♡ miles' love language? quality time, and he's big on kissing. hobie isnt much of a kisser but loves his sunflower just the same, and does not complain at all when miles places little kisses on his hands, ears or his back

♡ sometimes hobie will be a lil mean to miles just as a flirty thing. just usual teenage boy stuff like kicking miles' sneakers, manspreading to get into his space if they're sitting anywhere together, using his height to bully miles into a corner away from everyone so they can flirt some more, crashing into miles on purpose just to be annoying

♡ anytime they get to go on multiverse missions together they somehow manage to get into the craziest shenanigans. breaking into a zoo to stop a villain from mutating the animals, saving a group of schoolkids on a field trip from a killer robot (?), one time hobie even drove a runaway car to stop it from crashing right into jamaica bay and miles was scarred for life

hobie tries to control the car as he haphazardly swerves it around pedestrians and barely manages to miss a group of elderly people.

miles clings onto his seat for dear life. "HOBIE!! you're gonna kill us man, where'd you get your license from!?" he yells.

hobie scoffs. "license?! i said i could drive, mate, i aint mention nuthin' 'bout no license!"

♡ hobie's universe is set in the 1970's and living in a dystopian police-state means it's too risky to bring back a phone with him, so he's often left out of spiderkid groupchats. miles still tries to keep him up to date on the latest memes and inside jokes though. they also have their own inside jokes too

♡ hobie wouldn't bring a smartphone with him anyways since he's so mistrusting of tech in general. video games, laptops, and "smart" tech mystify him, and smart watches? forget about it. when miles gets one for christmas one time, hobie clowned on his bf so hard the watch was never seen again

♡ that being said, they love exchanging music often so the only piece of technology hobie ever brings back to his dimension is an ancient half-busted ipod (it was probably rio's at one point) filled with music miles managed to download for him that week. spiderman-ing and living as a homeless teen means hobie doesn't get much time to explore genres outside of the UK punk scene and listening to brand new genres is often a trip! hobie finds out he loves drum n bass, grindcore, industrial techno, UK drill, deep house and 90's hip hop

♡ hobie gets miles to make him cool posters for whatever venue he plans on (or doesnt plan lbr) playing at every now and then

♡ rio LOVES hobie. hobie is the perfect gentleman (gentlespider?) around her and often tries to help her around the house when he can. miles... does not enjoy how much his mom favors his partner. jeff is also not so crazy about this smart-mouthed punk

♡ miles and hobie absolutely swap clothing as often as possible, with hobie "borrowing" miles' clothes more often. miles' parents keep commenting on how much of a rockero he looks with all the punk stuff and hobie never returns clothes without having altered them in some way (pins n bits everywhere, a mysterious rip or two here n there, pinned-up sleeves, etc)

♡ miles is absolutely horrible at cooking and feels left out when he sees hobie helping his mom in the kitchen. he desperately tries to learn, but it's a wonder how he hasnt sliced his fingers off yet trying to peel and cut platanos so they can make tostones

♡ for a person who's built like a lamppost, hobie is shockingly graceful with his movements. he always slips around a room like a cat and miles is so jealous of that. long gangly limbs should be a deterrent from moving like That and yet here he is, practically pirouetting around miles for fun

♡ which is a total TRIP when they go out swinging around a city. once the mask is on, every movement hobie makes is chaotic, frantic and unpredictable. spiderpunk and hobie are very different people sometimes

♡ rio often points out hobie's thinness as a typical hispanic mom does ("jóven, pero tu 'ta tan flaco, hobie honey come eat! i have leftovers here!") and miles also agrees that hobie could eat a lil more too. he is always sneaking bits of food into hobie's pockets or bags, saving fries and last slices for his partner. sometimes hobie brings home armfuls of tupperware filled with caribbean food back to his boat

♡ in return, hobie is like a magpie and brings back shiny gifts for them, some handmade stuff too. miles' drawers and nightstand are filled with jewelry, bottles, knickknacks, and other handmade accessories. his walls are filled with collages and zines hobie makes for him and rio bought frames for some of the pieces he makes her

♡ the first person to say "i love you" was miles, but by accident. after realizing it, he was nervous as hell worrying that hobie would clown him to death since he didnt seem like a big romantic. instead, hobie went nuts about it in his own hobie way, writing lyrics about miles' face when he said it, doodling them together more often, teasing miles about it often but lightheartedly. he flaunts miles' love whenever he can

♡ miles has a lethal puppydog face and he KNOWS it! one 🥺 look and hobie immediately folds and gives miles whatever he wants. but not before hemming and hawing about it first, playing up his hesitation just to make miles laugh

♡ speaking of laughter, hobie does Thee Most just to see his bf laugh or smile. he will always goof off in the bg, crack jokes every 2 secs and pretend to get hurt sometimes. hobie is naturally sarcastic and goofs off in general anyways but around miles he dials it up to 200

♡ hobie tries to get miles in on the whole anarchism thing but 1. the texts and manifestos from his dimension are different than miles' and 2. miles is a teen boy. he doesn't know anything about the theory of alienation or effective mutual aid and won't really care at the moment. "mm, you'll learn all 'bout it soon enough, though... eventually," hobie muses

♡ miles is not as big on pet names as hobie is. hobie has like 24984 nicknames for miles but miles mostly sticks to just calling his partner by his name. one day during history class tho a lightbulb moment happens, and when they meet up again miles is excited

"hobie!! guess what, i really got it this time. i have a nickname that i know you're gonna love!"

"spill," hobie says as he throws an arm over miles' shoulders.

"so you always call me sunflower all the time, right? and your name is ho... bee. get it? so i was thinkin' i'm gonna call you 'honey bee' now. y'know, you're not the only one who's got corny ass nicknames! it's good, right?"

hobie has to fight not to grin like a jackass

♡ hobie's sleep schedule is atrocious so whenever miles can manage it, he tries to wrestle his partner into any bed and tucks him in. hobie is touched that his sunflower cares so much about him ♡

♡ miles almost never gets permission to sleep over other friends' houses but on the rare occasions he does, he leaps into portals and goes to visit hobie in his dimension. his fave part of New London is hobie's boat, bc they set up a big hammock for them to lay in, feeling the sway of the boat and letting it lull them to sleep. not to mention that the boat itself is totally badass, and hobie more often than not encourages miles to cover it in graffiti

♡ hobie lowkey (but highkey) loves when miles gets a little bossy, forceful or stern. he loves ribbing miles about it (the "ill do it, but not cuz you told me to" line in mumbattan was a total joke from hobie btw LOL) and saying corny shit in response to a demand, but he loves seeing miles being confident and calling the shots every once in a while. it makes him proud

♡ if they can, miles and hobie try to gather up as much food as they can and take it over to the F.E.A.S.T. that's in hobie's dimension. miles meets hobie's "family" there and gets to know the community, which feels so much more tight-knit and welcoming than Visions. once miles gets over the major jarring differences between his world and hobie's, he finds he LOVES New London

♡ miles and hobie teach each other slang from their countries and time periods, you can't change my mind. miles walks around saying shit like "bloody 'ell" and "septic" all the time. the one time hobie said "deadass" completely unironically, all of the spiderkids DIED laughing

♡ miles learns that EVERY spider is a total dweeb in some way shape or form. even hobie! hobie's awkwardness comes out when theyre in big groups of people. hobie is oddly comfy with performing in front of crowds but when he's invited to parties and tries mingling, it's so... sooo awkward. miles secretly rejoices when he finds out hobie's weakness

♡ i'm an adhd hobie truther and i hc that miles buys hobie the weirdest fidget toys he can get his hands on. along with his switchblade, jewelry, and whatever he stole that day, hobie carries various different fidget toys in his vest to keep boredom at bay

♡ hobie definitely writes songs for miles but takes a very very very long time to actually admit it. miles finally finds out when one of hobie's songwriting notebooks falls open when hanging out in his boat, and hobie comes clean about it. with miles' encouragement tho, hobie makes the decision to add some of those songs into the usual setlist his band performs

♡ if miles ever has time, he tries to attend whatever gig hobie and his band has going on. he loves to see hobie perform on stage, his energy and stage presence is always electrifying

[glmtwnbrtz]

‘obie Brown

[multifairyus]

Punkflower hairday fics are gonna do it for me…every…single…time. Every time. There are other culturally black things I enjoy seeing too like attending cookouts or whatever…but it’s just….the acts of service…thinking of what style suits the other best…the gentle care they take with in each others head (cuz they’re BOTH tenderheaded!!!) the non sexual intimacy of it all is just too much Black love is so beautiful

[melancholykiwi]

I headcanon that Hobie just turns into an absolute sweetheart when he’s with Mayday. Like yeah he shows affection to other people but when he’s with Mayday it’s a whole other level. He starts babytalking and nuzzling her and shit. He gives her raspberries and tickles. If anything happened to her he would kill the entire elite spider society and then himself.

[midnightfrappe]

Some advice from Hobie himself for all those people who want merchandise of spiderpunk but don't wanna let him down

He is the man of my dreams