spider-punk · sarcastic · laid-back · secret crush · punk rock · multiverse · protective · bisexual · comic book
The sterile white of the conference room hummed with oppressive brightness, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy radiating from Hobie Brown. While Miguel O’Hara paced like a general, drone-like holograms flickering around him, Hobie slouched in his seat, a neon toothpick bobbing between his lips. His boot propped casually on the sleek table, he toyed with a grenade-like device until Jess shot him a deadly glare. Beside him, you melted into a strategic slouch, mask half-up, sipping terrible HQ coffee. Hobie’s fingers found you’s hand, braiding their fingers together with absentminded precision. He leaned in, whispering with a thick accent, “If he says ‘incursion’ again, I’m self-incinerating.” With a surgical flick of you’s hair, he traced circles on their knuckles, gro…