#hope y'all like it

[moonstainn]

Chuuya is not amused

#soukoku #skk #skk fanart #soukoku fanart #dazai osamu #dazaibsd #bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai fanart #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #chuuya fanart #bsd chuuya #chuuya #seven #seven jungkook #I spent too much time on this #hope y'all like it #the skk brainrot is strong #and it's not going anywhere I fear #redraw from a scene of Jungkook's mv seven 💞

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

#hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black reader #hobie smut #hobie x black reader #hobie x reader #tw weed #ummmm yeah that happened #hope y'all like it #wrote most of this today :3 #OKAY TIME 2 POST

[imjustapoorwayfaringgeek]

❤💖💛

i'll post this cora doodle to see if people will like the one piece content, then maybe i can post more who knows

#and i will continue drawing the ship art challenge #im working on it im just really slow #fan art #my art. #corazon #one piece #donquixote rosinante #rosinante corazon #one piece rosinante #op #idk how to tag im new to one piece fandom #hope y'all like it

[greatestrival]

RICCIARDO'S ROAD BACK, for GP RACING APRIL 2024 ISSUE

Words: Alex Kalinauckas, Pictures: Motorsport Images and Red Bull Content Pool

scanned by me (please credit if you repost thank you!)

#i am not writing all that lmao #my work #my scans #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #formula 1 #f1 #oh god i'm gonna nap now it took so long to edit these #hope y'all like it

[riricitaa]

as promised 🙈 a continuation to this

#can't believe i actually did it haha #hope y'all like it #tw: substance abuse #tw: drugs #stucky #alternate universe #stucky au #stucky alternate universe #stevebucky #stevebucky au #stevebucky alternate universe #stucky edits #stucky gifs #stevebucky edits #stevebucky gifs #my edits #my gifs #my aus #mine #*

[af-fanblog-jelli]

Got hit with a bolt of inspiration to animate Holly just straight up decking Artemis. Some details I still want to fix but I like it!

#artemis fowl #blender art #jelli's art #holly short #animation #gif #hope y'all like it

[chaosandwolves]

Then the hollow folk pour me another shard full of glass And I toast to their talents and I forgive them at last 'Cause I know, oh, I know, I know That you are in the earth of me You are in the earth of me

The Old Witch Sleep and The Good Man Grace by The Amazing Devil

#Buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #the amazing devil #buckley diaz family #Tad lyrics #the old witch sleep and the good man grace #Man I haven't done an edit in so long #Legit had to look up how to gradient blend images again #Lmao #This time they're not my own words but damn #I was listening to it again and was just like.... Man that's so them #Hope y'all like it #Also if you don't know Tad please check them out #I made an TAD introduction playlist #so hit me up if you want it #My edit

[tilions]

» You were my brother, Anakin

#anakin skywalker #darth vader #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #sw #revenge of the sith #rots #star wars rots #prequels #starwarsedit #swedit #userobihoe #tuserosie #my edit #this went through like so godamn many drafts #hope y'all like it #now I'm going to rewatch rots and cry #1k

[gh0ulkisser]

who's he?` hobie brown

warnings cats??, i didn't proofread so there's probably some mistakes lol, the n word is used once....twice... maybe three times, sexual tenison ig, shit talking ab white people LOL & that should be it... enjoy! also i don't know how british people talk soo he's american in this either hate it or love it. this is my first time writing after a while so feedback would be really appreciated.

based on the song "that's the way love goes" to some extent. was listening to it on repeat & got inspired.

and happy juneteenth to my fellow african americans!

★★★★★★★★★★★★

it's a beautiful monday afternoon. the blazing sun hitting my chocolate skin, the cool breeze kissing my cheeks making me feel relaxed. me and my friend grace decided to have picnic crowded park to celebrate juneteenth, something simple something cute.

"and my mom made these sandwiches for us." grace face lit up with a bright smile showing off the sandwiches that are wrapped in wax paper. "what kind of sandwiches are they?" i asked taking one from her hand.

"some vegetarian sandwich, my mom is on her healthy shit." she unwrapped the wax paper biting the sandwich immediately. "so what's going on with you? i haven't seen you in a while miss thing."

grace looks at me with engaging eyes. "nothing, i've been chilling that's all." i said lightly breaking eye contact. "nigga stop lying." grace yelled making people turn their heads to stare. "who's the boy?"

"there's no boy. i promi-" i got cut off by my phone ringing. me and grace both look at the contact name.

"hobie🫶"

"bitch who the fuck is hobie? and why did you put that emoji?" grace stares at the phone with a shocked face. "why are you assuming its a boy first of all, second of all i use the emoji for everyone i cherish."

"you don't have that emoji for me." i rolled my eyes. "it's not that big of deal i promise. he's just a friend." i grabbed my phone putting it on dnd. "bitch you fucking annoying." grace murmured.

"can you at least tell me about him? likeeee what does he look like.... how do you meet him?" grace asks. i shook my head. "nigga why not?" you can talk to me about anything else but this is where you draw the line?" i nodded taking a bite of my sandwich.

"oh my god! did you fuck him?" grace questions. my mouth open in shocked. "no i didn't fuck him! i literally just met him. grace please!" i unlocked my phone going straight to my camera roll to pull up a picture of him. "this is him." i said passing my phone to grace.

it was a picture of hobie and me at a cat café. his beautiful smile showing his pearly whites, the silver piercings making his face even more sexier and his thick stunning wicks.

★★★★★★★★★★★★

the four-legged animal purred underneath my hand as i softly pet it. "i want to adopt a cat so badly." i said breaking the silence between me and hobie. he looks at me and then the cat. "why? cats are evil."

"if cats are evil why did you agree on coming to a cat café with me?" i lifted an eyebrow looking at him. he smirks. "i needed an excuse to hang out with you." i blushed breaking eye contact.

"i don't know if this is a weird thing to say." i looked up at him admiring his face. so damn attractive...the things this man can do to me. "but white people are so fucking weird." he said snapping me out of thoughts.

silence...

we just looked at each other.

i busted out laughing scaring the poor innocent cat. "what made you say some shit like that hobie?" i asked and he just shrugged. "there was this white girl in my class that had the same last name as me." i paused to pet the cat calming it down. "and i just thought about her ancestors enslaving my people."

"is that a fucked up thing to think about?" i asked him as i played with the cat's tail. "yes." he said nonchalantly. we sat in silence but the silence was soothing and very comfortable.

the purring of the cat and the chatter of the customers filled in the silence. i felt him stare at me. making my heart start to pound against my chest. i then felt this hand start to stroke my thigh.

i looked at his hand then i looked at him.

"you good?" he asked in a mocking way. "mhmm." he smirked knowing i was in fact not good. "you wanna go to my place?" he squeezed my thigh. his cold rings leaving a mark on my thigh.

★★★★★★★★★★★★

"he's cute." grace said grinning. "yea i know." i finished eating my sandwich wiping the crumbs off my mouth. "so he's not your boyfriend?" grace gave you back your phone. you shook your head.

"we are only friends."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black reader #hobie brown #fuckkk #hope y'all like it

[loopy-calico]

Song: BTSTU (demo) by Jai Paul

thought the lyrics fit him

'i know i've been gone a long time' because he's been changed so much by his trauma and hasn't felt truly like he can exist in a very, very long time (featuring some of the people who hurt him either repeatedly or just earlier on in sams)

'i want what is mine' he wants to feel safe again. in his own body, in his house, in his thoughts. he wants to get better.

#chain is a metaphor for trauma #he's very upset #he deserves to be #sams sun #tsams sun #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #angsty heheheh #made this all today it was fun #hope y'all like it

[plasticfangtastic]

My Masterlist

Hi my name is Plastic/Kay and I been meaning to make a masterlist of all my "The Boys" fanfictions. I Hate short stories and I write long chapters.

Might self-reblog after the cozy corner kinktober event--- after I add those fics.

My fave ships for the boys are Butchlander, Homeash and Homelander x A-Train (Homerun??) and nobody wants to give me that so i will be making my own for kinktober. Professional Homelander simp

Cuz tumblr only allows 10 links per post i be doing individual masterlists for my long projects and put the links here once this gets to max capacity i will do a new masterlist with this one as a link.. will update this frequently!

Currently working on:

Of The Same Poisonous Ilk (A Butchlander and Homelander self-cest fic) (on hiatus)

Building Blocks (A Butchalnder alt. au fic) (on hiatus)

Anybody Else Won't do (A Ashlander fic) (on Hiatus)

Thank you for reading my works!

Can We Be Lonely Together?:

R18+ Homelander x GN! Stalker/Supe Reader (or Homelander X Joe Goldberg... is up to you) this work is over 270 pages long and 120K plus words (status: completed)

Of The Same Poisonous Ilk:

R18+ Butchlander/ HL self-cest with a bit of Homewell (Status: WIP/ hiatus)

American Royalty:

M- Rating (australian rating no idea what the rating system is in the US/other countries so this is just like a bit over PG+13) Homelander X F!Reader/Dadlander fic. (Status: Completed)

Carnivorous lamb:

R18+ a OC and Homelander NTR sort of fic, so don't rec if you can't handle dark topic. (Status: Completed)

My one-shots

All fics are R18- first set its a collection of the cozy corner kinktober event, this will now include general one shots too.

#homelander #the boys amazon #homelander fanfiction #butchlander #homelader x ashley #homewell #homelander × you #homelander x reader #dadlander #personal #my masterlist #my fic tag #i made this on mobile and am sure there is a better way to do this on desktop but i dont own a computer so this is my only way to do it #hope y'all like it #hometek #homelander x tek knight #homelander x oc

[queerbenched]

Já tá escrito.

for @f1blrcreatorsfest week 4: lyrics + history

#f1blrcreatorsfest23 #lewis hamilton #f1 #graphics. #graphic design #formula 1 #f1edit #My last oneeeeee #Hope y'all like it #It was Amazing to participate!!!

[nothingenoughao3]

Why we wanna transition to Mad Scientist (or, revulsion and queerness in horror)

(Hi, @ash-eats-film! This is the thing I mentioned!)

Horror has a few baseline emotions it tries to inflict on the audience. This has been written about for decades, most famously by Stephen King, but the baseline elements most writers agree on are as follows.

Dread: Anxiety over what is about to happen

Terror: The fear of what is occurring right this second

Revulsion: Being forced to interact directly with what's happening right now

Black comedy: Being tricked into laughing at either the terror or the revulsion

Horror: The trauma response to what just happened

A great example of this can be seen in The Evil Dead II (YT link that doesn't include the full context, but does have the, uh, money shot). There's the dread of realizing there's something in the root cellar; the terror of when the Deadite pops up in the trapdoor; the combined revulsion and black comedy of Ash jumping on the Deadite's skull/the door, popping out its eyeball which shoots into Bobby Joe's mouth, and then the horror of what just went down rolling over Ash and his current companions.

Often, revulsion and black comedy go hand in hand. That's because they're tension relievers. The revolting thing becomes ridiculous, and you laugh at how ridiculous it is. This lets you settle down in the midst of the gore and death, just slightly, just enough to get through it... so the horror can fully set in for you, too, once it's over.

You also, often, question your own stability if you laugh in the middle of a gross-out horror scene: "Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me for laughing at X?" This is even worse if the villain starts laughing--now you're questioning whether you're IDing with the monster. Are you okay? Is something wrong with you?

Revulsion is often framed as the slutty member of the good, proper, morally-upright brigade of horror. We have a name for folks who seek out gross-out horror--they're gore-hounds, a term that is virtually always pejorative when applied to other people. We call certain types of horror "torture porn" or "gore porn", as though it is inherently sleazy and sexual to rely on this specific emotional reaction. (Note that we don't have "black comedy-porn", or "dread hounds", even though a dread hound sounds really fucking cool.)

Not to go off on a huge tangent, but I think the issue with media that overly relies on revulsion is that it's unbalanced, not that it's bad. A movie that's nothing but dread never has any emotional payoff. A movie that's nothing but terror never lets the audience relax back into their seats and, paradoxically, will become boring (imagine two hours of jumpscares).

So forth and so on: all aspects of horror rely on each other to survive. That includes scenes that make you go "Awww, sick" while nervously cackling.

Here's the thing: in previous generations, revulsion was similarly understood to be an essential part of horror, but what led to a revolted reaction was very different.

Lovecraft (boo this man! BOOOOO) understood the power of revulsion, which was the source of a lot of his strangest and most vivid descriptions. It was also the source of some of his most bigoted ideas working into his stories. The undercurrent of "non-WASPs are evil because they are repulsive" is as pervasive in his work as "the universe is incomprehensibly vast". You kind of can't get around that.

But there's another thing Lovecraft did to generate revulsion. He wrote a number of stories where an unhealthy focus on corpses, graveyards, graverobbing, and the like is, indirectly or directly, associated with sexual perversion. 

How many, you may ask? Off the top of my head, there's "The Loved Dead", "In the Vault", "The Disinterment", "Pickman's Model", The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, "The Hound" and "Herbert West: Re-Animator". All of these tales share certain themes, which don't repeat beat-for-beat in each tale but do overlap:

Male character becomes obsessed with dead bodies--whether that's stealing them, having sex with them, desecrating them, or resurrecting them.

He is comfortable around death and the dead to a degree that is unusual, sometimes explicitly stating that he prefers the smells/sights of death to those of life.

Terms like "fiendish", "hellish", "abnormal" and "perverse" are used to describe him; his gaze towards dead bodies or to experiments may be framed as "leering" or "speculative".

He is frequently a twink; often described as being frail, if not noticeably beautiful; he may recall being mocked for being "bookish" or "weak" as a child.

He is superficially charming in a way that gets him by in polite society, but not long-term nor in-depth.

He often ensnares an otherwise "normal" man to share his obsessions, effectively recruiting him as an assistant... until the "normal" guy realizes he's about to go on the chopping block (or, in at least one story, already was on the chopping block).

Their crimes involve a lot of sneaking around late at night, locked doors, whispering so they don't get caught (or they'll be killed), secretiveness, glee at getting away with it, and frequently, sharing the same living space.

The Unrepentant Evil Dude is often killed at the end of his tale in a way that implies vigilante/mob justice is at hand. 

The other may be allowed to live if he's very sorry and frames the whole story as being the fault of the other guy, or he may die too while affirming his horrible demise as just, even if it terrifies him.

(One could make an argument that Wilbur Whateley fits into some of these tropes. It's me I'm one)

If this all sounds very gay, Lovecraft probably would have agreed. He had as dim a view of homosexuality as he did on most other things that were Outside The Norm. In other words, we were supposed to see Richard Upton Pickman with his ghouls and think, "Ah, yes, this is a metaphor for queerness", only we were supposed to be revolted by that revelation.

This same attempt at revulsion can be easily read into Victor Frankenstein, and probably more Mad Scientists than I can name offhand (but feel free to in reblogs). Frankenstein's "crimes against nature" were connected to dead bodies as well, and likewise involved a lot of sneaking around, locked doors, and worry about what would happen were he caught with this naked man-thing he's keeping in his dorm. His crime, as with his parody character Herbert West, is creating life outside the bounds of heterosexual cisgender sex. This was meant to revolt readers' sensibilities as much as the whole cutting-up-corpses-and-stitching-them-back-together thing would.

This is why, if we're being honest, "Re-Animator" and "Bride of Re-Animator" are not necessarily gay… they're homophobic. This might be controversial, but stick with me.

I feel like Gordon and Yuzna were tapping into that old-fashioned Revulsion Handbook, including from the source material, which thematically linked Herbert West with queerness. (I'm using "queer" a lot here, but I would personally include trans-friendly readings under that rubric; I'm using "queer" in the analytical sense and not solely in the identity sense.) This means that, ironically, a lot of what we could point to as queer subtext is actually homophobic text.

This is reinforced by the novelization of the first film, written by a homophobe who got Trumpist brainworms later in life. He wanted to make West repulsive to the reader, and therefore, he tried to make West more gay. And IT WORKED. 

To be clear, I'm not accusing anybody, other than the novelist, of being a homophobe. There's a difference between possessing internalized bigoted beliefs which express themselves in writing, versus utilizing tropes originating in bigotry because That's What's Done Around Here. (I can understand why others might not perceive a meaningful difference.) Like the Cuzco lizards, this queerness-as-villainy is definitely a stupid thing ported in from the source material.

I do think that this is why everybody but Our Queen Barbara Crampton seems embarrassed or nonplussed by all the transfags pestering them about fellatio tapes. It's because they don't get why this thing appeals so much to us. It shouldn't. If anything, they should be canceled for having yet another queer-coded villain, along with a number of other plot choices of questionable taste (I'm looking at you, The Head Scene, and I don't like what I see).

Only, uh, it didn't work out that way long-term, did it?

I thank Cronenberg and venereal horror for this, in part. Brutally queer despite not being explicitly gay, venereal horror is what happens when the characters should be revolted, but aren't. 

This kind of thing is horrifying for crossing the line twice: first by being disgusting, then by having characters respond as though it is exciting, or sexually stimulating, or if nothing else, normal. They are perverse. They leer at the dead and the subjects of their experiments. And the disgusting monsters at the center of these narratives are celebrated. Their twisted sexualities are explored with the same brave frankness other filmmakers give to milquetoast cishet missionary nonsense. Their political views are given life and air, and usually, they're right. Their deaths, if they come at all, are framed as tragedies brought on by society's sick rejection of the flesh their brave experimentation.

Cronenberg's the dude who unironically thinks that Shivers (trigger warning for literally everything) has a happy ending. My man David's got subscriptions where others have issues.

Venereal horror has given us a new metaframework for looking at the repulsive, the monstrous, and the problematic and responding to it… differently.

Now here's another thing: Lovecraft likewise provided a structure for embracing the grotesque and the queer.

Pickman, the Decadent artist, paints photorealistic, enormous portraits of ghouls. Literal flesh-eaters. He is fascinated by them, comfortable with them. "Model" heavily implies that Pickman is a ghoul changeling--switched at birth with a human child. This leans into Lovecraft's ideas about heritability being a major source of horror, of course, and seems run of the mill until you get to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.

In there, Pickman appears again, but this time as a ghoul. He has cast off his human social shackles and joined the beings he loves, beings who understand him and support him. Kadath is notable in that the ghouls are actually... like... reliable, loyal, and morally good? Carter's opinion pretty much is, "They do eat human corpses and they smell awful, but they're all very nice and want to help me on my quest, so maybe they're not so bad (if not as good as the cat army)".

This feels like Lovecraft acknowledging that his entire approach of linking queerness, death, and revulsion is fundamentally flawed. Once you become familiar with the repulsive, it becomes not-really-that-repulsive-at-all. You can find beauty in it, and amusement, and love. Pickman embracing his ghoulish nature isn't all that different from Seth Brundle's overall lack of revulsion at his body's transformation. And it's not that different from what a lot of transmasculine folks go through, either.

It's not that transmascs, trans men, and/or transfags don't see what West does as crimes against nature. It's that we're all very fucking tired of being accused of crimes against nature. We're tired of not being able to look at socmed without finding accusations that we're disgusting perverts who sneak around behind closed doors to corrupt innocent, promising people to be our lackeys and partners in crime.

Hell, I refer to my wife as "my partner in crime" not because it's a cute way of acknowledging how well and how much we work together both in life and creativity. It's also because we could have been arrested for our relationship when we got together.

We were illegal.

There was a lot of sneaking around and whispering and trying not to get caught and "what if they call the cops on us if we're clocked". Can I tell my friends about this? Will they reject me or rat me out? Where am I safe? Nowhere. Best to lock the door and then check it again to be sure. Best to be very quiet.

Best to act like a graverobber trying to get their grisly wares back home before good, decent, Christian folk see them.

So when I hear "Blasphemy? Before what God?!", I read it as (whether he's ace or aro, gay or achillean, trans man or transmasc or genderfucked) a queer slogan of defiance, instead of a defense of graverobbing, corpse desecration, and non-consensual resurrection.

We're told we and our bodies are repulsive, so being told that Herbert is also repulsive makes him more relatable. Instead of wondering what the hell's wrong with him for shooting up reagent, we all theorize that it's actually T or has similar effects--because we're all told that T is a toxin that will horribly change and disfigure our bodies. He dresses in a three-piece suit for school, and instead of reading him as a stiff and overly-formal little freak, we assume he's layering up because he hasn't found a hoodie he likes yet. 

He cackles at his horrific creations, and instead of saying "What a fucking freak (anguished)", we say "What a fucking freak (affectionate)" and laugh along with him. Who among us hasn't taken apart our Barbies and tried to combine their parts with the Kens? What is a doll, or a human, but a collection of parts to be rearranged? Haven't we also been told we're freaks for rearranging our own parts?

We've already been told by society at large that we are Herbert West. We're just embracing it, in the proud tradition of venereal horror fans who are not revolted when they ought to be, and I think that's delightful.

#fandom meta #reanimator #re animator 1985 #bride of reanimator 1991 #bride of re animator #herbert west #headcanon #transmasculine #body horror #venereal horror #cronenbergian #writing trope #i live for analysis #lovecraft #this has been rattling around in my head for ages and probably isn't going to cover everything or be correct but here we all are anyway #hope y'all like it

[butmakeitgayblog]

The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To (Is When I'm Alone With You)

Chapter 11

//////////

Lexa clutched a hand to Clarke's shirt, bunching it in her fist to the point her knuckles ached as she viciously shook her head. "I didn't mean that."

"I know." 

"I don't regret a moment with you, you know that. I'm just scared."

"I do know, baby, I do," Clarke soothed and brushed away a few wet hairs that had caught on Lexa's lips. "But you don't have to be scared."

Lexa sighed at the absurdity of that and held fire red eyes that looked at her with such warm content. "I didn't mean to turn you into this."

//////////

Read on AO3

#demon!lexa #clexa #read on ao3 #clexa fic #lexa x clarke #hitting post bruh I feel imma throw up 🥴 #hope y'all like it #🤞

[enwonderland]

Athena needs someone to help her with the investigation. She would do it herself, but Bobby and her are already compromised. She needs someone she can trust, but she's running out of options. She can't ask Hen and Karen; Hen would hold her own if things went awry but she can't put Karen at risk. Same situation with Chim and Maddie. So, the only ones that could help her right now, her only choice, are Buck and Eddie.

They agree to go undercover, the idea is almost exciting. They need to be together at all times, though, they can't be distracted or separated, otherwise it could go wrong for both of them. What if a random girl wanted to get one of them alone and ruined the whole thing? That just couldn't happen. So, they decide it just makes sense to pretend to be a couple.

They're following someone, trying to get some information to report to Athena, when they hear someone getting closer to where they are. They think they have enough information now but they can't escape, there's no way to make a clean exit. They have no explanation to why they are in a private area, they shouldn't be there in the first place. So Eddie does the first thing that comes to mind: he backs Buck to the nearest wall, holds his face softly and kisses him.

It should be awkward, kissing your best friend. Male best friend. That's what goes through Buck's mind in those first few seconds. "This should feel wrong". But it doesn't. It... It just makes sense. It's Eddie, he's kissing him, and for a millisecond he wonders why they have not kissed before, when it's so obvious now how good they are at it, how good it feels.

The kiss is so unexpectedly good, so sweet and soft, almost like a whisper on their lips. They can feel the other's stubble on their cheeks and lips, it's new, they shouldn't like it, but it becomes addictive immediately. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie's neck and shoulders and pushes him closer to his own body. After getting a taste of his lips, he needs to touch all of him, needs to hold him close and don't let go. He swears Eddie just moaned into his mouth, he felt the vibration all over. And why is it so hot now all of a sudden, his clothes are suffocating him.

After a minute, or a hundred, someone clears their throat behind them. They stop kissing, but don't move from where they are. Buck's arms are still around Eddie's shoulders, Eddie's hands are still holding Buck's face. He drops them to his neck and caresses him so tenderly. He turns around to face the person interrupting them, a security guard.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Sorry, we just got caught in the moment. We, um... We couldn't help it. We'll leave now."

Eddie grabs Buck's hand, fingers intertwined, and goes straight to the exit. He doesn't stop until they reach Eddie's car. They get in and just stay there for a moment. They don't say a word, they don't even know what to say right now. Until the silence becomes unbearable for Buck.

Buck turns around to face him, face still red. Eddie doesn't dare look at him, he doesn't know if he's strong enough to look at Buck right now.

"Eddie... That was..."

"I know, Buck."

"Can we...?" Eddie completes the question in his mind 'can we talk about it?'. He's terrified. Buck is going to question him, he's going to ask him about his feelings and he's going to run away from him. But like the kiss, Buck is also unexpected. "Can we do it again?"

Eddie turns around so fast he's sure he'll get whiplash, but he couldn't care less. He looks at Buck then. He sees Buck, sees the honesty in his eyes and he has no doubt he absolutely means it.

So he doesn't answer, he just grabs Buck's face, brings him forward and kisses him again. They smile into their kiss, can't help it. It's not as smooth but it's even better than their first one. Because they're not pretending anymore, this is 100% them. And they have never felt so connected to another person; it's so good it's maddening. And in many ways, it is inevitable.

Later they'll talk about it at home, they'll define what they are, what they want to be. But for know, they're in each other's arms and that's all they could possibly need.

#buddie #eddie diaz #buck #911 #evan buckley #9-1-1 #911 on fox #evan buck buckely #911 6x13 #mini fic #buddie fic #hope y'all like it #first kiss #buddie first kiss #I'm not an English native speaker so if there's something that could be improved please let me know

[thatcakelovingwitch]

Early stages of my animatic ^^

#still need to work out some kinks #but im happy how it looks so far #ive never got to this point with my animations before #hope y'all like it #woe.begone #woe begone #w.bg #wbg animatic #terrible things #animation meme #wip #yo this cake can walk #Youtube