#the length of silent wheezing i had to do 😭😭

[luxhesperus]

am currently on chapter 15 of little mushroom and–

i think i bust out a lung 😭

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

it’s nice to have a friend (pt. 1)

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader

Type: Mini Fic - Fluff-ish??

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Cursing, maybe a little bit ooc Hobie since it’s been months, a few halfhearted attempts at his accent and then I just gave up whoops

A/N: wrote this while having the worst cramps of my life last month and only finished it now 👍 idk I just felt like cussing out the world at that point so that might explain the excessive swearing 😭

Tap tap tap.

You were just about dropping off to sleep when you heard those light knocks on the window. Probably just a clumsy bird.

Tap tap tap tap.

The knocks grew more insistent, more familiar - a pattern of sorts. You heaved a long, mildly annoyed sigh and got up to open the window.

It was not, in fact, an annoying pigeon. It was Spider-Punk in the flesh. Or as you knew him, your absolute dumbass of a best friend.

“It’s 3am in the fucking morning,” You waved your hand at the pitch-darkness outside, giving him the most formidable glare you could muster. “What do you want?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Hobie hopped inside, pulled off his mask, and gave you a completely unfazed grin. “Nice to see you too. Stop glaring at me! What, I can’t see my best friend whenever I want?”

“It is 3am in the fucking morning,” You repeated, pointing helpfully at the clock on your bedside table, though you had to press your lips together to squash a smile. Good grief, did his little cross between a smirk and a smile have to be so contagious?

“But I can’t sleep, and clearly you can’t sleep, and I missed you, so let’s go!”

“You saw me barely six hours ago,” You deadpanned, already pulling yourself to your feet and grabbing your coat from where it lay thrown across the the bedside table. “Drama queen.”

“Me? A drama queen? Nah, I’ll show you drama.” He flopped melodramatically onto the floor, grabbing your ankle and pretending to die. He looked ridiculous, like a lanky stick-bug-fish hybrid that crawled onto land and starting flapping about.

“Hobie, get up!” You gave a little huff, reaching a hand down to yank him upwards. “Okay, fine, let’s go wherever it is you want to go.”

“Yay! Can we go to the roof?”

“Sure, we can take the fire esca- HOBIE WHAT THE FUCK NOT AGAIN!” Before you could even take a step towards your bedroom door, he had grabbed you around the middle and leaped out the window. Your stomach dropped as he let you both plummet almost to the ground before shooting a web to the railing that ran the length of the roof and extended a little bit over. You both shot up like a rocket and he angled you in such a way that your landing would be much gentler than his.

“The next time you do that I’m going to throw up on you,” You warned him once you got the air back in your lungs (after a little bit of wheezing).

“That’s what you said last time. Besides, ‘s like a free amusement park ride! Honestly, I’m so generous, you don’t even have to pay,” He chuckled softly, brushing past you to sit at the edge of the roof.

“Sometimes I don’t even know why I put up with you,” You muttered, carefully navigating around the looser tiles on the roof to go and sit next to him.

The atmosphere was silent, not peaceful exactly but just still for the moment. Factories in the distance were still chugging out thick smog that floated up to join the suffocating clumps in slowly strangling the city. The alleyways were dark save for a few slivers of moonlight that managed to cut through the pitch-blackness of the backstreets.

Perfect time for a philosophical conversation, right?

“Do you ever wish that that spider hadn’t bitten you?”

Hobie looked at you in surprise, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked back over the city, leaning back on his palms. “Well… sometimes. What I mean is… sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to do this, y’know? But it’s better me than some pig. One of those bastards as Spider-Man would be a fuckin’ nightmare. For everyone who sees through Osborn’s bullshit.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer. Truth be told, you didn’t understand much of what he said - it was 3am, it had been a long day, and the words just didn’t register in your tired brain. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, leaning on Hobie. It wasn’t very comfortable, since not only did you have to avoid impaling yourself on the small spikes on his vest, but his shoulder was also pretty bony under the fabric.

“Tired?” He turned his head to look down at you, eyes soft and sweet and filled with something you couldn’t quite put a name to right now, perhaps because of the state of your consciousness.

You rolled your eyes, having still not fully pushed away the remaining traces of grumpiness that lingered from your rude awakening. “Thanks to the dumbass who woke me up at some unholy hour.”

“Come on, you know you wouldn’t have slept anyway. At least this way you have some company.”

You opened your mouth to say something back but slowly shut it upon realising that he was right. Absolutely insufferable.

You just snorted and closed your eyes, savouring the moment as best as you can. You loved quiet moments like these, where you could ask anything and get an honest answer instead of having to mince your words — maybe you liked them more than you should, but it was fairly harmless, right?

Marriage could end in divorce, couples could break up, and young love really wasn’t a constant. You couldn’t expect something so intoxicating to retain its magic against the test of time.

So it was better to take that fierce rush of whatever it was that you were feeling and label it as platonic love. Because strong platonic love, when it was returned, was benign and beautiful and all-encompassing, all at once.

“Oi, don’t fall asleep here. Still with me?”

You felt a light touch of ridiculously cold fingers against your forehead and jolted fully awake.

“Asshole,” You complained, batting away his ice blocks for hands. “Have you been sitting and stewing in a fridge for a few hours?”

Hobie snickered at your annoyed frown and chose that moment to break into a grin, reaching into his pockets. “Oh, that reminds me, I made us matching bracelets!”

He held out two bracelets, ridiculously tiny in comparison to his fingers. They were both composed of random beads, staples, half-broken bottle caps and bits of coloured string threaded onto a loop of fishing twine. The loud, mismatched colours practically vibrated off of them in shockwaves like some sort of sonic boom of Hobie-ness.

In short, they were absolutely perfect. There was nothing that he could’ve given you that would remind you more of him. All sleepiness was momentarily forgotten as you took one of them, holding it up to examine it in whatever moonlight managed to cut through the clouds.

You gave him a smile, slipping it onto your wrist carefully. “It’s beautiful, Hobes. Thank you.”

“Ah, we’re back with the nicknames! There it is! Good to know I didn’t actually make a mistake waking you up.” His tone was lighthearted and teasing, but his smile had turned into one of affection as he watched your reaction to his gift.

There it was again. You’d seen it a few times recently, and it had been silently eating at you no matter how much you tried to dismiss it as simple friendship.

Nothing more than a tiny little flash of that puzzling something in his eyes, but something that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and not just in a way that someone would feel about their best friend. Something that gave you the courage to finally break free from the voice in your head whispering about everything that could go wrong — although that might have been because of your horrendous lack of sleep and the tiredness that was tinging each of your thoughts with just a little bit of delirium.

Screw keeping it platonic.

“Hobie,” You began, and something in your tone must have sounded different because he trained his eyes on you, his head cocking to the side slightly. You faltered slightly, trying to think of something to say. But before you could find a way to put your exhausted, confused mess of thoughts into words properly, he winced and his face scrunched up in the way it always did whenever his spider-sense went off.

“I’m sorry, I gotta…” Hobie gestured vaguely down at the alleyways, an apology practically written on his face. You nodded, ignoring the hollow pit of disappointment forming in your stomach.

“Yeah, you should go. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” He agreed, already fishing through his vest pockets and digging out his mask. He paused to give you a cheeky grin before slipping the fabric over his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick a more pleasant time to drop in.”

“That’s what you said last time!” You called after him as he leaped off the building, disappearing down into the roads winding around, into and throughout the city. You stayed where you were, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared at the ever-shifting skyline. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course something came up right as you had finally mustered up the courage to say something… and yet, it felt as though he was almost expecting it. Like he wanted you to say it.

You scoffed at the absurdity of your train of thought, looping around and around hopefully like a broken clockwork toy. All wishful thinking, perhaps? Then again, maybe not. You pushed yourself to your feet, pushing open the fire escape and beginning to make your way back to your apartment. You almost missed the terrifying rush of adrenaline that accompanied one of Hobie’s daredevil manoeuvres in and out of windows on the fifth floors of buildings. Almost.

You got into bed again and switched off the light, pausing to look out of the still-open window. Oh, well...

You moved to close it, pulling down the pane of glass and latching it at the bottom.

Maybe next time.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 (not sure if i’m missing anybody else, it’s been a while 😭)

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

WHOLESOMENESS, YOU SAY? *air drops you a container of ideas* (i’ll do a few to not overwhelm you 😭)

-> jing yuan teaching his partner how to feed the birds in his garden, and instead of him ending up being the birdhouse, it’s them

-> jy (again) but he’s coming home from a long day and immediately collapses onto the couch with them and snowmoon/mimi (i cannot remember if he had two lions or not, i forgor 💔)

-> ✨blade✨ finally giving into his partner’s pleas about letting them take care of his hands by massaging them to make them less stiff while also trying to soothe the fresh scars on his hands/wrists with vitamin E oils to help them heal and fade (spoiler: he ends up getting addicted to it bc it helps take the arthritic-ness out of his hands and will silently bother them by staring at their hands)

— guess who :p (m.n)

*gets crushed by container of ideas* Th-thank you! *WHEEZE* These are won-wonderful!

We must be on the same wave length because I thought about massaging Blade's hands and then I saw this XD

I'll write for these in a bit, thank you Messy Nest :D

[spidey-bie]

Dude, I know tuis was completely coincidential and with how many spidersonas are out there ziggy completely had no fuckin idea of this. Cannot even be a possibility this is anything but a coincidence.

Moxie in my brain went HYSTERICAL as soon as we saw the new design for the new doc ock and spider-punk comic. THE PINK AND BLONDE HAIR. I WONDER WHERE MY VERSION OF COMIC HOBIE COULD'VE GOTTEN THAT. HMMM... *staring at moxie hardcore*

Just.

-------

The evening was slowly winding down, the only thing left to do was fill out the tax returns for the yearly qauter. It was a bitch, taxes. Yet, it was his turn. Good for fucking Hobie.

It was silent, until it wasn't.

The sound of huge weight meeting the wooden floors left a loud ass pounding noise. It was instinctive for him to swirl around, wrists up to shoot. It was just Mox, always them. The long, knee length blonde curls were freely out today. Small stripes of coral pink venom staining some of the edges. Thry never wore a shirt anymore if they don't have to, the chest scars on full display. It was a very welcomed recent change. Though, they were staring, eyebrows furrowed without a clear emotion.

"Hey, Mox?" Hobie tried, hopefully to kick them out of the thought. It didn't work. A moment, two, three.

They started wheezing. Full body shaking laughter. Confusion was setting in, what the fuck is going on?

"Moxie, what's up?"

They just laughed harder. The force of the action tsking their strength, they collapsed on the bed below them.

"You- You fuckin-" Moxie began, but they couldn't continue.

"What have I done?" At-least this was more entertaining then taxes.

"You wanna fuck me so bad you made it a whole ass character trait!" They finally got out, smugness in their voice.

"Where the fuck did you get that?" Blush beginning to reach his cheeks.

"THE HAIR, You bagel! Where else would you get blonde and pink combinations from then the fucker you had posters of growing up, drew relentlessly in middle school-"

"-We don't talk about middle school." Hobie scolded, running a hand through the now blonde and pink curls.

"-AND LIVED WITH FOR 3 MONTHS BEFORE STARING AT THEIR ART EVERY NIGHT WHILE YOU FALL ASLEEP."

"I do not-" He began, voice waning, a dark black blush eclipsing his face. " I do not stare at your painting while I try to sleep." He did. He's lying. Is this what being down bad feels like?

"No, please, go on about that thought. What happens late at night?" Moxie teased, fangs showcasing their egotistical smirk.

"This is harrassment. This is a no fluster zone. Fuck off-"

Moxie whined at that, before getting whacked with a pillow.

The stare 😭.

Also hey......HEY

I think I need more Moxie x Hobie in my life because what the hell 🥺