𝙵𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗

𝐇𝐢𝐦 <𝟑 . ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐏𝐭. 𝟓

ღ You ask and I DELIVER‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️

ღ Thank you guys for 60+ followers, it makes me happy you guys like my shit despite only doing this for 3-5 days 😭

ღ ANYWAYS, here’s a story for my boy @thearabloak06 🙏 Tysm for requesting, I hope you enjoy and I hope this story isn’t ass since it’s my first time in awhile writing a full on fic LMFAO

ღ Paring: Hobie Brown and GN! Reader

ღ Premise: Reader has their own section of the daily newspaper, and they use it to write for the anarchist by the name of ‘Spider-Punk’ while also providing pictures they’ve caught of him in action

ღ Whoopsie daisy I just made this into more of a detective/mystery novel instead of a romance 💀 200-400 likes and i’ll make a part 2 (or even its own series)

ღ Previous part can be found here !

“_____, my office, now!” You let out a heavy sigh as the door to your boss’ office slammed shut after he barked an order, and you could feel the eyes following you as you stood up from your desk and made your way over to the room, tossing your empty coffee cup into the trash before turning the knob and pushing the door open.

“Have a seat” He ordered, but your feet remained glued to the ground. “I’m good standing” You stiffly said, crossing your arms over your chest with narrowed eyes. “You asked for me, sir?” In response, your boss slammed a newspaper onto his desk, pushing it forward so you could get a good look at it— it was the paper for today, and you had a pretty reasonable guess as to why he was so peeved.

“We’ve been over this, _____. I don’t want that spider freak in my newspaper.” He seethed, picking up the newspaper and shoving it in your face, pointing specifically at the section you were assigned to. “You know what this gives us? A bad, bad reputation. We’re already on thin ice as it is, and if you keep this up, my company will get shut down all thanks to your stories!”

Your lips tightened into a thin line, feeling your blood boil at what he was saying. Quite frankly, he could take his worries and shove it up his ass for all you cared. The government was corrupt and violent to the people it’s supposed to protect and serve, and Spider Punk was the only symbol of hope the community had. You admired the infamous anarchist, and you wanted everybody to know about him— the possibly only voice of the people.

So that’s why you used the section of the Daily newspaper granted to you, to spread word of Spider Punk’s actions and his defiance against the government. You wanted the people to know about what was going on, to feel empowered knowing that one of their own was rising up against the injustices against them. And if it costed your job, or even your life, so be it. You weren’t just gonna sit around and act like nothing was happening.

Your boss’ words were only fueling your anger. This wasn’t the first time you two had this conversation, in fact, all of your conversations were about this topic. It took all of your willpower to not punch him in the jaw as you opened your mouth to say “But sir, the newspaper is meant to inform people. And with all the smashed law enforcement cars and protests going on, it would be wise to—“ “I dont’t want to hear it! Keep this up, and you can kiss your place here goodbye!” He yelled in your face, and that was your last straw.

“I don’t have to, ‘cause I quit. You can kiss all of your readers goodbye, ‘cause I know damn well the only reason they read your lousy ass newspaper is because of information I provide!” You snapped, turning on your heel and marching out the door, tuning out the string of curses that followed as you exited the building with smoke practically blowing out of your ears. Ok, maybe you handled that the wrong way. But it was too late to go back now… well, you still had to get your stuff from your desk. ‘Embarrassing’ You thought to yourself, keeping your head held high as you turned back around to enter the building for the last time.

You didn’t stay there long, since you didn’t even have much to begin with. The items that occupied your desk consisted of your notepad, your trusty laptop (it was old enough to be considered a fossil), an uneaten nutter butter, and your camera thats strap wrapped comfortably around your neck while your other belongings were placed inside your satchel. With all your items packed away, you were now walking the streets of London as the reality of the situation set in— you didn’t have a job anymore. No source of money, and no way to have a voice in the community.

‘You’re forgetting to breath’ You told yourself, registering the tightness that was beginning to form in your chest and taking a couple deep breaths to ease the panic. This was fine, you were fine. You could always start a blog of your own, and there were plenty of jobs that needed more employees. ‘But it’s not as easy as it sounds, i’ll need to fill out a application, i’ll need to be interviewed, and—‘ Your thoughts were cut short when you suddenly bumped into someone, and you muttered a quick apology before continuing on. “Oi, you’re that chick that writes fo’ the paper, aren’t you?”

You stop, turning to look back at the person you bumped into. He was quite the looker, if you were being completely honest. The male was tall, and dressed in outfit that screamed ‘punk’. He had well done wicks, and a confident aura surrounded him. “It’s rude to stare, y’know?” “Oh, i’m sorry. I spaced out for a second.” You apologized when he called you out, before adding “My name is _____”. The male nodded his head, his gloved hand tucked away in the pocket of his pants. “‘Obie, ‘Obie Brown” Holy shit, you knew he looked familiar. “Aren’t in a band?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “I play with ‘em occasionally, but I don’t believe in consistency.”

You slowly nodded your head, not bothering to question what he meant by that. “Riiight…” The sound of sirens caught your attention, and you looked over your shoulder to see the blue and red lights of law enforcement cars dancing off the walls of buildings. “I wouldn’t suggest goin that way, luv. There was a bad scrap with a couple fellas lookin for a bad time” Hobie warned you, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. Didn’t he come from that way?

The reporter in you told you that there was something amiss, but you didn’t act on the feeling. Not yet. “Yikes, thanks for the warning. I’ll take a different route to my flat.” You informed him, and he nodded his head before turning his back towards you. “I’ll be seein you ‘round, _____. Maybe come to one of my concerts, yeah?” He suggested as he started to walk away. But you weren’t listening.

You were too busy staring at the prominent red, spike having mask that stuck out of Hobie’s back pocket

“Yeah… i’ll take you up on that offer. Cheers!” You called out to Hobie, waiting a couple seconds before lifting your camera up and putting its viewfinder up to your eye, zooming in on the mask before snapping a picture of it. “Christ…” You muttered to yourself, staring at the screen of your camera in disbelief.

You just found yourself with knowledge that could cost you your life

Mysterious girl with beautiful golden eyes and star motifs, and guy who is stoic (but is actually a gentle sweetheart with trauma, and is associated with the military in some way) and has a teal colour palette.

(sighs)

walking down the aisle with someone who isn't me — miguel o'hara x reader

summary: you felt your whole world crumble when you were there with him, by the altar—just not you as the one he'll be marrying. you feel like crying, screaming, running away—you just can't stand the sight of miguel being with anybody but you. but could you blame him? you waited too late to tell him the truth, what you really felt. word count: 868

𝐇𝐢𝐦 <𝟑 . ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐏𝐭. 𝟖

ღ I’m not gonna lie, I had such a hard time thinking of how I would portray the reader since there are multiple reasons as to why someone would struggle with expressing themselves, but I ultimately decided on making the reader reclusive, quiet, and VERY awkward. Shout out to my introverted and socially awkward followers, we’re in the same sinking boat 🔥

ღ This kind of strayed from the original request so that’s MY BAD (me when ADHD)

ღ Also, here’s the update on the votes for the next series— It’s currently tied between Miles (both 1610 and 42) and Pavitr Prabhakar, BUT, Spider Noir is currently in the lead. The voting ends when I post part 10 of ‘Him’, and that’s when I’ll choose the winner. So if you haven’t already, go ahead and vote here

ღ Good lord i’m running out of banners, maybe this is my sign to do another profile theme change

ღ Pervious part can be found here !

• It’s a mystery to everyone as to how you and Hobie started dating, given that you both are polar opposites. And to be honest, you have no idea how you managed to bag him either LMFAO.

• You probably met him at the local record store while you were browsing through some of your favorite albums when Hobie suddenly came up to you, asking if you knew where a certain artist was. You didn’t respond to his question for a good couple of minutes, since you were still trying to comprehend the fact that a fine ass, 6’3, punk lover was actually talking to you and you weren’t dreaming.

• When you did respond, your answer came out in a jumble of loud incoherent words (y/n ahh 😭). Of course he didn’t understand what you were saying, so you repeated yourself MUCH quieter, and that didn’t help at all.

• In the end, you just pointed to where the albums Hobie wanted were located before hastily turning around while cursing yourself for fumbling so badly.

• I like to think that Hobie often hangs out with loud and extroverted people, so seeing someone that was the complete opposite of that was refreshing for him (no matter how awkward the situation was). And honestly, Hobie found it cute that he made you react like that from just him talking to you.

• So when you were at the counter paying for your albums, best believe that Hobie came up and payed for your shit as a way to engage in conversation. You did NOT know how to react to that, especially when Hobie only winked and slid you the receipt. He turned it over, which revealed a collection of numbers in messy hand writing.

• “Go head and add my number f’me, love” Your jaw dropped, causing Hobie to chuckle before he pushed himself off the counter waving goodbye to you before exiting the store.

• It took you awhile to actually message him, since you had no clue what to say. But talking to him on phone was much easier in your book, since you didn’t have to rely on your voice much and the thoughts that usually ran through your head in public were slowed.

• You started out with a simple hey and a thank you, and the conversation started from there. Since it was over text, you became a lot more at ease and relaxed while talking with Hobie. However, some (if not all) of the texts he sent made you giggle and kick your feet like a school girl 💀.

• At one point Hobie began flirting and soon, you became daring enough to flirt back.

• ‘Daring now, aren’t we? I bet you wouldn’t say all of this face to face ;)’ ‘Watch me’

• You eat those words when you two set up a place to meet up, and Hobie starts teasing you about the texts you sent NONSTOP. His teasing only makes you act worse and public, and somehow increases your stuttering x10.

• And even when he isn’t teasing you, every single thing Hobie says still makes you trip. For example, when you’re talking, and then he asks you in his deep and gritty voice ‘Speak up f’me, love. I can barley ‘ere a word that comes outta yer pretty mouth’

• 🧍

• Despite your differences and how easily it was for Hobie to make your brain rot, you two grew quite close over a short period of time.

• He’d always push you to do more things and meet more people, and even if it doesn’t work out, Hobie would always praise you for trying and getting out of your comfort zone.

• Hobie would he very supportive and patient with you, since he knows how difficult it is for you to properly get your words out. But even then, he still LOVES teasing you and seeing how bright your face gets.

• Overall, Hobie would be your #1 hypeman and biggest supporter while also managing to be the reason of your demise