#octobie week 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sareenawails · 2 months ago

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THIS WAS SO GOOD!!! You got me scared there for sec lol 😂

WEEK 2!!! WOOOOOOOOOOHHH

Movement

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

Word count: 3k

Summary: You see a familiar face during a protest.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, can be read as platonic, CW blood, TW violence, CW injury.

Octobie 🎸

Navigation

A/N: special thanks to @pleaktale and @thesevenofstaves!!

One second you were standing atop a cop car with your megaphone blasting while you yell at the armoured coppers below. People were rallying behind you with the same fervor you had, throat aching screams thrown at the opposition whilst banners and picket signs reign high. It was peaceful for the most part, there was no pushing or hitting on both ends, but then just one bright muzzle flash from the coppers, just one ego infested man with a gun was all it takes for chaos to reign.

Fire flies from above, curling its flames downward towards you and the crowd behind you.

With brave yells from your people that depicts all the hurt and anger for the corrupt and oppressive government— it became screams of terror as the kevlar-covered cowards marched forward. Pushing and shoving with their glimmering barrels pointed directly at them. The ear splitting sounds of gunfire and broken glass rings in your ears like a broken record. The air smells like ash and embers, and yet, your people don't back down from the violence brought about generations ago.

After a struggle, you stand arm and arm with them, you know every single face. On your right is your neighbour just across the street from your own place. And on your left is the bassist from a local band. All have stories to tell, and different lives lived, but you all stayed to fight for the same cause, to fight for what's right against the regime that never fought for you or the people who hold your arm in a tight yet shaking grip.

Smoke itches your eyes, soot covers your face as the coppers stand before you, armed to the teeth, wrapped in darkened armour against regular citizens bearing not a single weapon on them or kevlar covering their chest. Yet, they look at you behind their dark visors with fury and gritted teeth.

The car under your feet creaks as the fire cackles on the bridge, flames strategically scattered to keep you all away from your goal.

“Hold!” You yell, and everyone grips tightly to one another. One thousand strong, one thousand faces that are full of determination but with fear etched in their eyes.

Everyone has gathered to end tyranny with hope by their side as they assemble around the bridge that faces Osborn's building.

The armed men bring out their riot shields, banging it with their batons as if they would even need it when your side is the one left bleeding and burned.

You swallow thickly, inhaling the smoke filled air despite your mask as they march forward in their militaristic pace. Shields clang and boots thump simultaneously. You and everyone fighting for what's right holds on tight.

An impenetrable wall of defiance.

Glancing at the woman next to you, the same woman who watched you grow up before her very eyes— you falter when you see her tear stained cheeks.

“Hold on.” She says, palm sliding from your arm to your hand, squeezing you tightly.

You could only nod as you turned towards the marching. And in their eyes, you see fiery embers reflected, and you know they've broken the line drawn on the sand as a fire bomb comes whizzing upwards from somewhere in the tightly packed armour that quickly descends down on top of you.

You don't close your eyes nor let go, instead, you watch as the black ball twirls in the air— and for a moment, time stands still.

The weapon comes close to you until you can see the groves of the metal, and you see a reflection of yourself staring back with wide eyes.

Suddenly, as if fate itself willed you and your people to live another day— a web comes to existence, it's shaped like a hand grasping the bomb in its hold. And then as quickly as it came, it's gone in your sight as the stringy web tosses it back to where it came from.

An explosion blows you and the people around you backwards, throwing you off the car harshly. Eyes closed and arms raised in front of your face, your body doesn't hit the hard ground. An eruption blasts from up front, nearer this time, and you feel the heat of it above you. But you don't burn nor see the bright light behind your closed eyelids.

“I've got you.” A familiar voice says above you, strained and tired.

You open your eyes, and you see his gloved hand wrapped around your collar while he has flipped the car over to shield everyone from the bombs. All the while carrying the car with one hand, and at the same time saving everyone behind it.

“Holy shit, it's you!” The woman who was next to you says with hope. You turn to look at her laying on a soft laid out web to take the impact from her fall. “You okay?” Nodding briefly, you glance towards the others behind you, finding nothing but scratches and bruises on each of them as they help each other back on their feet.

You return your attention to his mask, it's ripped out from the side, suit singed and half burned, revealing his hazel eye to you. “I'm okay.” You repeat for him. Your hand bracelets around his wrist, thumb brushing along his pulse point, his heartbeat is fast, terrifyingly fast. “I'm okay, you can let me go.” You notice the scratches along his left leg, still fresh and oozing with crimson.

He sees your concerned look. “Fuckers had Rhino with them.” Smirking, he still has the energy to smile through the pain. “Now they don't. Sorry ‘m late.”

“And here I thought you were stuck in traffic.” You joke while he gently puts you down on the asphalt.

He exhales sharply with a gentle smile that you can see through his mask that tugs around the corners. “‘m ‘ere now, we can do this together.”

“Together.”

Spider-Man, you've known him for years. You run in the same crowd as him, and even befriended him after he saved you from a thug who stole a box of donations from your hands. After that, you two got close. Friends even. He volunteers at F.E.A.S.T whenever he can or when he has a quiet patrol, always wearing his spiked costume, guitar at the ready but not without a smile hidden underneath his mask. He's either helping out with the kids, or with dinner in the kitchen with you and the others that always ends up with laughter. You're thankful for him and what he has given to the community, but right now as he holds up the car on his back with increasing weakness from his injuries, he's the one who needs everyone's help.

“We need to help him! Hold!” You stand up, a bit wobbly on your feet but once you place your shoulder against the heated metal, a new fire sets a blaze inside everyone's hearts.

Everyone behind you and the leather clad vigilante pushes the car down strenuously. With all the help gathered, the car crashes down on the road with its windows shattered and its once blue paint burned to darkened ashes. Flames still lick from under it, embers curling at your boots as he pushes you back and right next to him.

“Do you have a plan?” You ask, fists clenched.

“Thought you had one?” He teases.

A ghost of a smile passes by your lips. But before you could reply to him, he leaps up into the air and over the burning car. Landing effortlessly, he stands to his full height with his cherry red guitar slung over his back. You can see the sticker you contributed on the guitar, it's a rainbow peace sign that sits next to a pair of boots. He once joked about it being too on the nose, which you then threw a chopped carrot at his mask. You still remember how the whites of his mask widend before he fought back with a piece of crumpled tissue thrown at your cheek.

Your heartbeat thumps loudly against your chest, a thudding sound akin to the beat of war drums. He seems to hear it as he looks over his shoulder and through the blazing fire just to gaze at you. Flames dance in the reflection of his brilliant eyes, orange hues twisting and curling around his form as you meet with his eyes. One masked and one that reveals himself to you. He looks other worldly in your vision as the flames seem to embrace him fully in all his spikes and leather. It doesn't singe him nor eat and burn away at him, it's as if he's used to the flames.

For one moment, you saw his very soul bared to you.

“Take cover,” is the only thing he said to you.

Turning back around, facing an entire army of armed men, he takes his guitar from his back. The same guitar he plays for the children at F.E.A.S.T, the same guitar he once taught you how to play a few chords of. And it'll be the same guitar that will put an end to years of tyranny.

He raises his arm, the silver pick in between his fingers shining in the firelight. In that moment, fire could bring hope too, not just to destroy, but to rebuild what has been destroyed.

Breath staggered in your throat, you covered your ears. Unable to look away from him. Running footsteps muffled under your palms, wind rushing towards you like a gust of hurricane. And with no time to take cover, you kneel down, cowering behind the car just as when a bright light appears in your vision. The loud guitar riff splits the ground, almost bursting your eardrums. Then the light from the blast blinds you into unconsciousness from the sheer power he alone emanated.

—

You crack open your eyes to blue skies, and the rough pavement scratching from under you. There's still smoke in the air, and shattered glass all over the ground. Your ears ring, eyes hazy as you blink away the white spots dancing in your iris. A warm hand wraps around your bicep, voice fading in and out as it calls for you.

Turning your head towards the voice, you see an old friend staring back at you. “M-May? What happened?” Your voice is hoarse like you've inhaled a pack of cigarettes worth of smoke.

“You blacked out—”

“Where is he?” You remember what transpired. Panic sets in your heavy chest, remembering how he stood alone in front of many. You should've helped him, done more despite your lack of special abilities unlike his own. Tears well up in your eyes as you see what's in front of you.

A dark ashen car, or what's left of it still sits in the middle of the bridge. Scorch marks in the shape of sun rays are left burned on the asphalt. But you don't see him anywhere, not even a sign that he was right there in front of you was left behind. You see that you're a few ways behind the car than before, maybe someone helped you, or you flew back from the blast. You don't care enough to know when he could be hurt, or worse.

You grab her arms desperately, chest heaving, hands trembling. “Is he okay?” Her mouth parts but the sound of determined shouts echo from the front of the bridge. You squint your eyes to see clearer with hope that you get to see him within the gathering crowd.

Your entire faction lays waste to Osborn's gilded tower. His men have left him, and some have either surrendered or fled by jumping over the bridge and into the freezing waters. Windows break, and fire breaks out on the other side. But your banners fly high above it all. His oppressive regime is gone, and the people have triumphed.

You've won, but where is he?

“May,” you stagger up to your feet despite her protests. You now notice that you and May aren't the only people left on the bridge. In the far end, there's a small crowd circling around something. Or someone. “Is h–he?” Someone moves to the left and you see his iconic boots on the floor, unmoving. “No!”

“You need to rest! You hit your head—!” She holds your arm, but your adrenaline pushes you to tug away from her careful grasp.

“He's hurt!” You wobble towards the crowd, with every step feels like you're walking on hot coals as pain flares up around your ankle. “He needs h–help.” Weakly, you push people to make way. May surrenders and lets you go, even helping you move past the crowd.

“He looks like he's the same age as my son.” Someone said tearfully.

“He's just a kid.” A woman utters regretfully.

“Why aren't you helping him?!” You yell at them, yanking your mask away to breathe properly.

Slowly, you see pieces of him. Someone seems to hold his hand, the spider on his chest is now all tattered, revealing angry marks on his skin. Gasping, you finally make it to his side, and you fall to your knees harshly.

“What are we going to do now?” One asks through a broken tone.

You give him a once over, his suit is marred by dark ashes. The bright hue of the spandex is no more. Eyes roaming up, you see his unmasked face. There's no trace of the mask left anywhere on his face. From his jaw up to his brows, it all seems familiar. You cry when you realize who he is.

“H–Hobie?” You've known him far longer than you thought.

The same old woman who was next to you lets go of his hand and places it atop your own. His skin is cold.

You shake your head with tears in your eyes. “I should've known, you idiot.” All the days that he disappeared from your side, it all pieces back together to this moment.

Sliding your hand down to his wrist, you tearfully kiss his knuckles. Guilt eats at you, you wish that he'd open his eyes once again and everything will be alright. “We did it,” you whisper against his skin. “We did it so please wake up so you can see.” You hold his hand against your chest, careful not to aggravate his injuries whilst trying to warm him up.

You feel his pulse thump quietly against your thumb. Hope ignites within you. “Hobie?” Scooching closer, you place your ear atop his chest. Closing your eyes, you hear his heartbeat. “He's alive!” You perk up, grinning in astonishment. Looking up at everyone, you instruct them. “Go get a doctor, a nurse or whoever—!”

“You're loud.” His gravelly voice cuts you off, hand closing around your own slowly.

Your neck snaps towards him lightning quick, gasping at his tired yet awake expression. “I–I should say that to you with your fucking guitar blast. I swear it was nuclear energy.”

“Nah, not even close.” He weakly grasps your hand as cheers erupt around you. “I would know, love.”

“You were on the brink of death and you're still cheeky.” Your wobbling lips peck each of his warming fingers.

His hazel eyes glimmer in the sun, a smile etched on his lips. “We did it?”

You nod, “we did, because of you.”

“I only helped a bit.”

“A bit?!” Someone answers for you. You recognize him as the guy who owns the local convenience store. “You have no idea, son. You're the spark that we needed.”

Hobie chuckles, but winces when a wave of pain washes over him. “I think I broke a rib, or several.”

“Someone already ran to get you help, Hobie.” You say as you loom over him, hand gently cupping his cheek.

His eyes widen for a second before softening. “I take it my mask is gone?”

“More like disintegrated.” You joke light-heartedly. “Your secret’s safe with us, don't worry.”

He reaches for the back of your hand, fingers still shaking but once he holds your hand properly, the trembling stops. His eyes look at you tenderly above the haze of pain. All the aches and gashes he attained are nothing compared to the satisfaction of triumph.

“I trust you.” He whispers to you, thumb brushing along your own pulse point. Sighing, he glances towards the crowd looking on. “I don't trust that bloke though.”

The same man who answered him before guffaws loudly. Everyone follows suit with their own amused laughter.

“I'll keep your secret, Spider-Man.” May says next to you. “My nephew needs someone like you around. I'd like to keep it that way.”

Hobie nods appreciatively at her.

“Same here,” the convenience store man says, fist placed above his heart. “I'll take it to my grave, son.”

Voices echo around the bridge as every person in that crowd promises the same thing.

Hobie grins despite his cut lip, locking eyes with you as ambulance sirens can be heard a few blocks away. He grips tighter around your hand, warmth fully coming back to his body.

“Thank you,” you sniff, your hands never letting him go as tears ebb away from his shining eyes. Taking your mask from your neck, you offer it to him before the ambulance gets to the bridge.

Hobie reaches for it, bunching it up in his grip, eyes never leaving your own. With a nod from him, you help him put it on before everyone helps him get in the ambulance. All the while never leaving him as he silently asks you to stay with him all the way. And you wordlessly promise to him that you'll never leave as long as he wants you to stay by his side.

Custom banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

#octobie #octobie'24 #octobie week 2 #october #octobie anarchy #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk x reader #spider punk #atsv fanfiction #fanfiction

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michelleart8 · 1 month ago

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Octobie Month !! 🎸

Week 2 : Anarchy !

I know a bit about history of Anarchism and I used the Ukrainian anarchy flag because it is great and is a reference to the important figure of Anarchism Nestor Makno.

⚠️TW FOR GORE⚠️

(It’s Norman Osborn head cut in half and a bit messy on Hobie’s guitar)

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

#spider man: across the spider verse #atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #atsv fanart #atsv hobie #spider punk #artists on tumblr

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punx-artz · 2 months ago

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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)

#octobie #octobie comfort #across the spiderverse #digital art #punx artz #hobie brown #digital aritst #oc x canon #my art #beginner artist

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yumeaoka-chan · 2 months ago

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Cater To You

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

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: no physical description of reader, implied! jokes, ogling (unashamedly too), cooking, tired Hobie (Title from Cater 2 U by Destiny's Child), massage, Cursing, reader is AFAB

Summary: Hobie's had a rough week. Knowing this, you decide to take care of him for the night.

A/N: Credit to @mushroom-graphics-allotment for the lovely banners! First week of Octobie, @the-kr8tor !!! Let's go!!!

Humming along to the music playing from your little speaker, you sway your hips as you shuffle around the kitchen. You lift a spoon to your lips, tasting the broth of the stew on the stove before adding a bit more salt and garlic powder. Now, satisfied with how it tastes, you glance over at the clock on the wall. It was nearing the time for your boyfriend to come home, having asked him to come back early tonight.

“You plannin’ something, lovie?” He'd asked earlier that day as he shrugged on his vest, his slight wince not going unnoticed by you. You raised a questioning eyebrow at him for it, but he just made a dismissive sound, as per usual.

“I'm making dinner tonight. And I just wanna spend time with you. Is that so bad, Hobes?” You'd said to him with a loving smile, hiding your true intentions for the night. Hobie had given you a look of suspicion before rolling his eyes playfully, agreeing to be back no later than six.

This night had been planned in your mind for a while. You'd only decided to act on it when Hobie had come through the window earlier in the week, bruised and battered from a recent fight. He had just smiled and held you close as you pestered and pestered, begging him to let you fret over him, to care for him. But of course, Hobie hadn't let you, reassuring you over and over how he'd be fine in a matter of hours, never one to be down for long. And he was right. The next day, he'd been up and about again, his duties as Spider-Man ever calling.

For the last few days, Hobie has come back beaten and exhausted, weariness making a name for itself on his shoulders every night as he slumped into the bed. And for as much as he allowed himself to dote and worry about you, he absolutely refrained you from doing the same for him. Words like “Nothin’ to worry ‘bout, baby” and “Just being with you like this is all I need” are the chorus that greets you every time you try to soothe his pain. You like to chalk it up to the savior complex that you're most certain he has, even if he'd make a whole show of his disagreement if you ever told him as much.

“He's not getting away from me this time”, you mumble to yourself with a determined huff, turning the faucet of the bathtub off. It was his turn to be taken care of, especially with the week he had. You were going to make sure of it. The sound of the front door opening has you perking up and quickly finishing with adding the essential oils to the warm bath water, mixing in the epsom salt as well before getting out of the bathroom. Grin on your face and eagerness shining in your eyes, you walk towards the living room to greet your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace once you near him. Hobie raises an eyebrow at the look on your face before smiling, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead, his lip piercing cool against your skin.

“Missed you too, lovie”, he chuckles softly, his voice soft as he wraps you in his arms. Just being in the warmth of his embrace is enough for you to wish you could stay like this for eternity. Fingers brushing lightly on his lower back and moving towards his waist, your eyes shoot open at his little hiss of pain. Quickly moving back, you clear your throat and gesture towards the kitchen, sticking to the plan for the night.

“Dinner is ready and I've already drawn you a bath. Which one do you want first?”

“You drew me a bath..? ‘M starting to think there's more to just you wantin’ to spend time with me, love.” Hobie says with a knowing smirk, eyebrow raised as he pulls you close once more, fingers idly hooking onto your belt loops. Smiling at how touchy he's being right now, you lean up to press a small kiss to his chin before gently patting his chest.

“Correct. You've had it bad this week, don't even deny it. I'm taking care of you tonight and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Now, bath or dinner first? If you choose bath, there's a surprise right after it.” The last words being said in a singsong tune, you back away from him and look up at him expectantly. Hobie let's out a sigh at the determined gleam in your eyes, knowing full well how stubborn you can be when you set your mind on something. Besides, he really was much too tired to even try to dissuade you. Shrugging off his vest and draping it over his shoulder, he nods his head in the direction of the bathroom.

“Suppose I'll go and take that bath, then. What's the surprise when I get out?”

“You'll just have to see. I've already got a change of clothes for you on the sink”, you say with a pleased hum, watching as he makes his way towards the bathroom. “Oh! Make sure you leave your shirt off when you come into the bedroom!” Is what you call after him, making Hobie let out a playful scoff.

“Yes ma’am”, he snickers with a small salute, disappearing into the bathroom. While he bathes, you rush to the bedroom and settle on the bed, gathering your lotions and massage oils. You play some soft music on your speaker and dim the lights, humming along to the music as you wait for him to finish. Hobie shuffles into the room a few moments later, towel wrapped around his neck and gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Your eyes linger for a few moments, appreciating the view greatly, only to glare up at your chuckling boyfriend.

“Like what you see, hm? If you wanted to see me naked, you could've just asked”, Hobie hums out lowly, a knowing smile on his lips as he saunters over to you. Even in the dim light, you can see how tired he is, shoulders slumped and eyelids low with barely contained exhaustion. The bath, however, seems to have given him a little more pep though, Hobie's complexion looking a little bit brighter than before. It makes you smile, knowing he was at least a little relaxed now.

“Eh… Maybe later," you say with an amused chuckle, standing up and placing your hands on his shoulders. “On the bed, big man. Your surprise today is a massage from yours truly.” With a cheeky grin, you use your hands on his shoulders to turn him around before pushing him on the bed face first. Hobie lets out a small oof as he lands on the mattress, turning his head around to give you a playful glare.

“Rude. What kinda masseuse are you, huh? Treatin’ your patient like this…” The man shakes his head in mock disappointment all while getting himself more comfortable on the bed, tucking his arms underneath the pillow beneath his head. “Have half a mind to report you to corporate…”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, good sir. Forgive me for my earlier behavior, it'll never happen again”, you say with sarcastic enthusiasm as you lather a good amount of lavender body oil between your hands, warming it up. You carefully move to straddle his legs, knees on either side of his hips. “Let me know if it hurts, okay?” Is what you whisper in his ear as you gently place your hands on the back of his neck, fingers softly kneading at the tougher bundles of nerves there.

Hobie lets out a soft hum as you begin your work, body slowly relaxing with each stroke of your hands. His eyes flutter shut as you knead at his shoulders, your eyes watching his every reaction as you carefully press your fingers lower towards his back. As you knead at his upper back, you can feel the tense knot of nerves beneath his skin, making you frown a bit. Placing both hands onto his upper back, you take a deep breath and push down firmly. A loud popping crack is heard from the simple action, Hobie letting out a low groan as his body slumps down further into the mattress.

“Fuckin’ hell…”, he breathes out as you chuckle softly, hands sliding further down his back and fingers pressing into the little divots. Your boyfriend is practically putty in your hands as your palms work to loosen the kinks in his lower back, soft sighs and little purrs of satisfaction leaving his lips. Fingers avoiding the small bruises on his waist, you gently run your knuckles just above the waistband of his sweatpants before quickly applying pressure. Another loud pop sounds out, Hobie burying his face into the pillows as sounds of utter relief leave him.

“The hell you learn this from…? ‘S too good, lovie…”, he mumbles softly, voice practically purring. It makes you smile, pleased with yourself for having made your boyfriend this relaxed. You lean down to pepper his shoulder with sweet kisses before moving your hands up right to the middle of his back. Using your thumbs, you apply a bit more pressure, Hobie melting into the sheets. The massage goes on for a few more minutes and you watch as his breathing slowly evens out, body losing all tension and his small movements ceasing.

“Too tired to even eat, huh? What am I gonna do with you…?” You sigh as you lean back a bit to properly look at him. A huff leaves you as you listen to Hobie's soft snores, sleep having welcomed him with open arms. Using the towel next to his pillow, you wiped off any excess oil and placed another kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Hobie”, you whisper softly with a smile, sliding off the bed and standing up. You drape the blankets over him and leave the room to put the food away. You were glad that you had gotten the chance to properly care for him for once. And if the kisses and praise Hobie rained on you the next morning were anything to go by, so was he.

#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #fanfic #octobie #octobie comfort #octobie week 1

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frostbitten-writer · 2 months ago

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OCTOBIE: 1 WEEK; Comfort

Synopsis: Halloween can be spooky, and yet what if it’s comfortable and loving? And I’m sure it’s better when a certain someone is celebrating your favorite holiday with you…

Pairing: Hobie Brown (spider-punk) x fem!reader

Warnings: none? Maybe a bit spooky at the start. FLUFF

Authors note: I finally finished this one, phew! Was quite the challenge cuz I didn’t have ANY motivation!! But I think I did this one good. A bit short but one shots are not exactly my strong suit.

Thank you @the-kr8tor for this event and motivation!!!

Word count: 881

The sound of soft drizzle filled your cozy and yet spooky apartment. The streets were golden and orange, the leaves swaying around in the sky through the thick layer of fog. You made extra effort to make your home warm and super decorated, as it was your favorite holiday, Halloween.

You were preparing some snacks and food, a movie and much other stuff since you knew that Hobie would come over to spend the promised time together. Sooner or later…

As you were just throwing a fluffy blanket on your bed, you heard a loud thunder and flashlight strike outside.

And that’s where the lights went off…

I mean, you did know that Halloween was about scares and horror, but honestly, you weren’t a big fan of horror… or at least not when it was something in real life and troubling you…

You quickly snatched a box of matches and the candleholder you got from Hobie with the words: “I saw it, and it reminded me of you”. It was comforting but the idea of using it for actual purposes was a bit scary.

You put the candlestick on your nightstand, the small light source giving you the opportunity to finish the final touches to the cozy atmosphere-

Swoosh…

The candles were blown out.

Wait. How could the lights go off when the candles were burning just fine? And the windows are closed, the wind shouldn’t be the culprit…

It probably can’t be Hobie either, he shouldn’t be here till at least an hour, since his band practice would clash together with his patrol…

Never mind, just a coincidence. I mean, it is Halloween right? Weird things do happen…

You blindly stumbled over to your nightstand, squinting your eyes and patting your hand against the wooden surface, trying your best not to knock something over and find the matches.

“Bloody light has to shut down right now…”

You groaned and grumbled, not being able to find the matches, where could they be?!

As you were about to give up you heard a straining sound, coming from the ceiling and lowering down to your eye level. You felt your feet suddenly grow cold, and yet the place where the straining sound came from remained oddly warm…

As if someone was there and breathing right into your ear…

You felt a lump form in your throat, still not being able to see in the pitch black room. The warm feeling should’ve brought comfort, but in this cruel situation, it brought only fear of the unknown…

Who is it? Is it even someone? The Prowler? Is Hobie in danger? Wait-

“Boo.”

With a quiet squeak you flinch away from the sound, clasping both of your hands over your mouth. You then heard familiar laughter coming from next to yourself, and then warm hands wrapping around your waist. The candles started to burn again and you saw the person that you know so well…

“Hobart Larry Brown! Are you mental?!”

You exclaim, but to your reaction you only heard giggles from behind your shoulder.

“No, I don’t think so..” he gently pecked your shoulder, resting his chin on it, “but you were so cute just right now, would be a shame if I didn’t try to scare you even a bit~” he hummed with a smirk, clearly enjoying this situation.

“But why are you so early? You shouldn’t be here-“ you glanced at the clock on the wall, “-till like, 2 hours..”

“The band canceled the practice, but I wouldn’t go there anyway.” He gently kissed your cheek and smiled affectionately “not when I have my sweetheart right here.. waiting for me..”

You melted into his arms, your racing heart finally relaxed and you felt the comfort of your lover’s warmth.

“D’you wanna change? I think your suit is a bit too tight for late night relaxations..” you suggested, looking at Hobie and feeling himself bury into your neck as his fluffy wicks tickled your cheek. “Hmph.. but I don’t want to move..” He muttered into your crook between gentle pecks. “But you’ll get sick, your suit is all damp from the rain.” You countered, getting a bit frustrated at his stubbornness. “Fine. I’ll be right back” He muttered quietly, letting his arms fall to his sides as he stomped to your wardrobe to get his clothes.

After some minutes he came back from the bathroom, some comfortable clothes on his lean body. He quickly buried himself next to you in your bed, spooning you from behind as you started your movie.

The movie continued to play and you slowly started to nod off. Hobie quietly closed your laptop and shoved it to the edge of the bed, where it wouldn’t bother you.

He held you a bit tighter and nuzzled his face into your hair, taking a deep breath of your shampoo.

“G’night, love..” he murmured, feeling his own eyelids grow heavier.

“..good night, I love you..” you groggily responded, “I luv you too..”

Bonus!!:

“This was the best Halloween ever…”

“You’re so cheesy, seriously, how did I end up dating ya?”

“Shut it! Or I will kick you out!”

“So demanding.. a cruel woman you are..”

#octobie #octobie comfort #atsv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie brown

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marukyubi · 1 month ago

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Octobie Week 2: Anarchy Just a little drabble for this week '3 Pairing- Hobie x OC this week 'D (Couldn't squeeze out more. Was planning a drawing for this week but a sudden burst of desire to write has consumed me full and quick.) Brief Background - So, my oc, and her universe is in a type of dystopian world where only the people who are born rich keep getting more and more rich and powerful while the people below will never stand a chance truly, being kept in such chaos so they will never remember, get stronger, to trouble any of the "ELITES BORNS". The elites are tight-knit too, but also have tight rules that they made even their own kinds follow strictly, and very rarely that one survive from the pack if they defined the rules. My oc, Angelina, is born an Elite descendent whose family is kinda a feared outcast. Their family defies rules and even advocates the people who are not elites to defy them as well. Also support and try to make the people's lives and the society better even if it's a little bit (The irony of them being able to resist the elites this strongly is because their family has a long line of private military and the control of weapon trading businesses, which made them an essential among them. But in Angel's father's hand, to simply put how the family business stopped, "You know what. I tried the peaceful path first but you guys killed my *adopted* brother. FUCK YOU AND YOUR MOTHERS. I'm burning you all if given a chance.)

If you see Wayne family refs I took, no you don't-

Also, Angel is a Spidersona who now uses the mantle of prowler more often. She still has her organic webs, and she still uses them to have swinging dates with Hobie- but she doesn't like being associated with spiders (especially Peters) after being killed and resurrected. (Her universe Peter is not really that great. He's one of many main factors that caused her death.) She mainly uses magic weapons like her pa :D

Warning - Vulger words, mentions of violence, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of blood, brief old men yaoi, Hobie might be a bit ooc 'cause I wrote in a rush of creativity(sorry '3), it's (almost) an indulgence oc content

EAT THE RICH It's an old saying that originated from the French Revolution and is used by many people who have taken the mentality of anarchism to this day. EAT. the "RICH". When Hobie said it in front of his lover, and her dad who is a great inventor with such generational wealth but even joined him in the chant, and their family who... support him fully despite their power hold and background? (It's a weird family, he knows it when he gets in head first, but they were kind enough...?) He didn't expect her to take it as literally... "You're telling me..." asks Hobie to Angelina slowly, to take in fully of what he's about to say. "That you killed a bunch of big politicians... and fed the meats to... who!?" "My babies!" Angelina answers with a beaming smile, looking all too prideful to drench her limbs in the blood of said people. "Crowley did not mean literal babies," her brother, Felix, chimes in while working on a project near the conversation, and so does her pa(other dad :D). "We don't accept cannibalism in this household," says her pa as he tries out a new magic spell he had just found from an old grimoire. "At least not with those degraded meats." "Then what babies?" Hobie can't help but ask. "My... babies!" She replies with an emphasized voice as if he will just suddenly get the enlightenment of what she truly means. But she did catch her own mistake quick and pointed at the big aquarium behind him that has a wide variety of colorful fishes. "And hey, I'm not a meanie." She proclaims herself with a huff and a proud grin that is a bit terrifying, considering the situation. "I ground the meat to the softest pulp form I can get and mixed it with their normal diet so they won't get sick from the "treat". I also fed to the strayed animals too, no worries." It rendered Hobie a bit speechless, to hear her say all of this like it's nothing special and/or horrifying process. He's almost used to his partner's uncanny and abnormal thought processes but to see her commit one? She can always surprise him in ways he has never thought possible... "... And the reasoning?" asks Hobie quietly with a sigh. He just can't... help it, like how he fell for this bumbling idiot. And one thing he knows for sure about his love is... she would never do things out of irrational or unjustifiable excuses, no matter how the execution is. She sort of means well, almost always. It's just the acts that weird out the people who weren't around this strange family enough. And she does give him the answer immediately, with a brightening, childish smile. "Those pigs tried to legalize underage marriage in their state for the child trafficking shit they're covering for." "...Blimey, tell me you gave all in to torture those bastards." "Hell yeah! Started with making my men slice their dicks and balls off into thin strands with a bloody dull knife while keeping 'em fully awake."

#octobie #octobie'24 #octobie anarchy #hobie brown x oc #Hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk x oc

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