My 'Six The Musical' Content:

.... i see the future and it's bright 🫡🛐

Trans!Hobie who likes to show off his top surgery scars. He'll walk around his flat shirtless, chuckle as you kiss them and run your fingers along them in a sort of worship. You helped a lot with his confidence in them, the way you call them beautiful as you rest your head on his chest at night and love on them, the slightly dark, raised skin of the scars.

Trans!Hobie who hasn't had bottom surgery yet but that doesn't make him any less of a man. Who whines when you eat him out and call him your handsome boy. He likes it when you call him handsome while he's on top of you with his strap, fucking you so good you can't help but cry out his name. He'll take you anywhere he can have you if you start littering him with masculine compliments, feeding his euphoria, the bedroom, living room, kitchen, it didn't matter. He'd finger you, heat you out, or if you two were at home, grab his strap right then and there and fuck you as a form of appreciation.

Trans!Hobie who you like to spoon while you to finger so you can whisper in his ear how good he is to you and how well he's doing at spiderman. It's a good way to help him relax after a long night of patrolling. You'll sink your fingers deep into his cunt and tease at his clit with your thumb until he's creaming all over your hand and gripping the sheets in his large fists.

Trans!Hobie who sometimes isn't so confident, sometimes he looks at himself in the mirror and nitpicks. If someone saw this, would they judge him for not passing well enough, if they knew about this thing they could never possibly know about. Sometimes you have to calm him from a panic attack and assure him that things would be okay. Passing isn't the point, it's reaching euphoria and as long as he is happy with himself, that's all that matters.

"You'd still be my handsome boy."

a collection of my playlists highlighting black artists in multiple genres of music. a little late for BHM but better late than never <3 enjoy! suggestions and additions are always welcome.

black people created rock: a forever growing playlist of various sub - genres of rock made by black artists and musicians; from classic rock, pop punk, rock rap, metal, post hardcore, etc. from underground bands, popular artists experimenting with their sound, artists from other genres collaborating with rock stars, and more!

a southern gothic tale: country / folk / blues / bluegrass; there are some rap / pop songs that include country elements in them but for the most part it's what you think.

black alternative: black artists that make music outside of the expectation. alt [rnb/pop], hyperpop, indie [pop/rock], dream - pop, bedroom pop; you name it, it's probably in here.

black g!rl pvnk !: similar to my black people created rock playlist, except it's just black women. this playlist also includes rap that takes heavy inspiration from alternative subculture.

juicy fruit, certified bubble yum: [bubblegum] pop by black artists. oftentimes our music gets categorized as rnb / urban / hip hop even when it's clearly not! there's been a historical record of black music being put in the wrong categories by reviewers and the academy trying to box black music into a box. while some songs may have rnb elements, it's clear that they're classic, well-made, and respected pop songs!

The eyes, chico... They never lie.

Last one for comfort week 🥰 Hobie sees you!

'Hobies an ass guy!' this 'Hobies a tits guy!' that

You fools. You absolute fools.

Hobie is a tummy guy.

All tummies and I'm not joking at all in the slightest. ALL. ALL SIZES. Not just the model 'plus size' thing that magazines think is cute. THEM TOO BUT ALL OF THEM TUMMIES. He hasn't come across a tummy he doesn't like and he never will.

Belly button piercings? Lord have mercy. He can't help but stare.

He loves bellies.

That includes rolls or stretch marks or abs or ribs or C-section scars or anything really. Show him the tummy.

He likes people in crop tops or low rise jeans, running his long fingers across the skin. He likes resting his head on people's belly while they speak to him softly, hearing them breathe.

Hobie is a thigh guy.

Give him the Daisy Duke shorts. Thigh high socks for the love of god.

He'll wrap his arms around your leg and never let go. He can watch you do squats for hours (but then again who can do squats for hours 🤨)

You do indoor cycling? That pelaton shit? Hes gonna have to leave the room before he starts saying something slick because he CANNOT take it

Tones thighs in leggings. Really muscular thighs cracking a watermelon. Chubby thighs under fluffy mini skirts. Fat thighs in tight fit jeans or stockings.

'Ass or tits?' My sibling in Christ He's an ARM guy.

Fucking flex for him and he's gonna need a minute. Doesn't matter if you're as scrawny as him. Stretch your arms, he wants to see the ones that are going to deliver him a thousand hugs.

Hobie and hands. His are rough from the guitar playing but he takes his partner's and kisses the back of their hand, turning it over in his, tracing the lines or painting their nails or lacing his long fingers in theirs.

'Ass or tits' Do you know who we're talking about here

Hobie is the most body positive and inclusive person to walk these spider-earths

How dare you limit him He Cannot Be Contained he loves it all

Disabled or Abled. Trans or Cis. Inter or Endosex. Whether you dress modestly or masculinely or you're out here half naked on some Fashion Nova shit. HE LOVES IT.

Ass or Tits cannot contain the magnatude that is Hobie Brown

Oh and also He vaporizes fatphobes and ableists and chasers on sight with his 'i hate bodyshamers' superpower it comes free with the spider bite.

God I feel like people don't even realize that movies like Wendell & Wild are stop motion.

All the characters are hand-crafted figurines with dozens of detachable faces. The scenery is actual sets that the crew had to navigate. Even the special effects like lightning were almost all done with a variety of tricks, except for a very small handful that were dangerous or incredibly time-consuming, which were done irl to test out looks and then replicated with CGI.

The fact that it's stop motion was even made more obvious than in films like Coraline, since they deliberately left the face seams visible instead of editing them out.

Kat's design is amazing already but it's incredible realizing that so much love and passion and labor was put into her and all her models.

YO! To the people who have spidersona's but can't draw- I GOT YOU!!

Naynayyy on X: "NOVEMBER 1ST!!! LETS GOOO #Picrew #IntoTheSpiderVerse https://t.co/TvJ21GU6g0" / X

All you have to do is wait until Nov 1st!

REBLOG! REBLOG! REBLOG!

Bro My Jewel thief Girlfriend Has a Fortnite Skin!!!

Look How Cute She is!!!

the real MVPs of arcane

Starstruck

Hobie Brown x fem! reader (high school au)

@rexlroze, @the-kr8tor What better place to stir up drama than high school? ✨️Enemies to lovers✨️

Part(s): Prologue, ???

Visions Academy. Elitist? Yes, but the school of your dreams. An hour trip from Harlem on the subway. But if your mom’s dingy blue bug held up for another year you wouldn’t have to worry about paying for a Metrocard.

It was incredible when you visited on a campus tour. The music program was world renowned. You plan to take every course available but you need to be in that music room. Smell the polish from the guitars and touch the marble of the grand piano. You shiver just thinking about standing in the auditorium. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything your family could ever have dreamed of for their daughter.

So it doesn’t bother you to work until the dead of night with customers that make you want to tear your hair out. Visions makes it all worth it and well, being able to pay for your own gas is nice too.

It’s Friday, the parlor is loud and bustling with families, high schoolers, and disgruntled adults who just want to pay. Life couldn’t be any better than this.

“Manolo where are my damn pizzas?” Yuri screams over the bar separating the kitchen and the cashiers. Stacking empty boxes into her hands before shoving them under the counter.

“What do you expect me to do!?” He yells back. Antonio, his younger brother slipping on what you assume is the ghost pepper Manolo never picked up. “I’ve got six other orders before damn what’s his name. Tell him to wait his fu-”

You tune them out as you smile politely to the little girl in front of you who’s asked for a to-go cup.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” you chuckle. Watching her run back to her parents. It was sweet, reminding you of your own dad and mom back home.

“(y/n)!’

You don’t react as Yuri spins you around, pushing you towards the kitchen where boxes and boxes of pizza are stacked up. “Go, I expect you back within two hours eh?”

You also don’t react when she glares down at Antonio. Who is usually your delivery boy but is currently nursing a burn on his hand. The poor guy really was as clumsy as a deer.

“Two hours (y/n)!” She repeats.

Then the door slams shut behind you. Your car keys in hand and a bag draped over your shoulder that burns into your side with how many pizzas are stuffed inside. Don’t even ask how that worked, Yuri has her ways.

You sigh as you hop down the steps. Gently setting the bag in the passenger's seat once you reach your car. It takes you a second to set up your phone with directions along with music. The speakers are surprisingly clear as you turn the volume up and drive off. The city becomes a blur and the clock ticks back at you with each and every stop.

The last apartment. A pink building that’s chipping and full of overgrown vines that reminds you of a photo you saw at a pop up show once. You walk up the steps, the last two boxes in your hand.

“O’hara…”You mumble, “O’hara, O’hara- ah ha, there.” The loud buzz of the intercom makes you recoil as it echoes across the street. A minute later a voice rang through, words muffled and unintelligible

You shift nervously on the balls of your feet. Leaning close to the speaker against your better judgment.

“Hi! For Mr. O’hara?”

More words? You’re sweating at this point. You’re almost hitting your two hour mark. A second later another buzz rings through and the door unlocks.

You sigh, muttering under your breath. “Oh thank god.”

You quickly swing the door open. Scaling the steps once you see yellow caution tape and a note stuck to the elevator.

By the time you reach the fourth floor you’re huffing. Holding onto the railing you catch your breath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,”You huff in exasperation. Eyes wide as you see every door number is faded or falling apart. “These people need a better landlord.”

You almost shriek as you see what time it is when you look down. You have less than fifteen minutes.

Running through the numbers as best you could. You settle on a door with punk themed stickers. You hope this is the apartment or the tenants will at least be nice enough to point you in the right direction.

Before you can even knock the door swings up.

“What do you mean-”

You stand there visibly in awe as you stare into the most beautiful set of eyes you’ve ever seen. Silver piercings and earrings decorating his face. Wicks pulled back into a ponytail.

“Oh hey! Can we help you?” A second face pops out from the side of the door. A kind smile on his face.

You clear your throat as you avert your gaze. “Yes, uhm, I’m looking for 4D?”

“O’hara?”

You melt inside as you hear his accent. British? But not exactly?

“O’hara,”you confirmed. Smile wobbly as you force your butterflies down. You really need to get out of here.

You don’t notice the two exchange a look.

“Oh, that’s us love.” He grins as he stares down at you.

“Great!” You beam. Mentally storing the name in the back of your mind. For what? You don’t know. It’s not like you had the courage to ask for his number.

It takes you less than a minute to hand the boxes over.

“How much do we owe you?”

This confuses you but your smile never wavers. “I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure you prepaid online.”

“Right right!” The second boy nods. Dragging his friend inside by the arm and snatching up the pizza with his free hand. “Thanks!”

The boy with wicks sends you a wink before closing the door behind them.

You wait until you’re out of sight to swoon. It lasts for about five seconds when you realize it’s been exactly two hours.

-

Yuri’s too busy when you come back to scold you. So the rest of your shift goes smoothly. Your mind drifting to the boy every once in a while. A small smile on your lips.

The phone rings and your bliss is broken. You hold your breath as insult after insult hits your ear through the receiver.

You feel like an idiot. The boy’s pretty face fading into obscurity. You blink back tears as you talk with the real Miguel O’hara.

What a shitty night.