#hob vids

[hobgoblinns]

here is my new video please support shoot from the hip

[twinksintrees]

the dice scene in heaven official’s blessing s2 is so horny and for what

[mod2amaryllis]

spacing out by the tank like usual, listening to music, was like "aw man you guys gotta experience this"

[onewingedangel3]

heard that my boy came back?

[gabessquishytum]

I’m SO sorry about this but I saw the most ridiculous porn vid premise 2 days ago and immediately had to make it about dreamling for some reason.

Human AU, tw manipulation

Dream’s life is pretty miserable. His family is stinking rich and he’s very sheltered, but his relationship with his siblings is terrible, he’s a disappointment to his mother and his father is not a fan either. That doesn’t stop his father from ordering around and dragging him to events, to which Dream goes because he’s just so eager for any approval.

The latest is a big shindig at the golf club, and of course everyone is going to have to play a bit just to not be rude, but Dream is. SO bad at it. His father has tried to teach him, but he doesn’t have much patience and especially not for Dream.

So, daddy-dearest sends him to golf classes so Dream won’t embarrass him.

Enter Hob, golf instructor. Dream explains the problem and Hob does feel a little bad for this teary-eyed, bitten-lipped kid (he can’t be older than 20) who looks like he’s never stepped outside his mcmansion before, but mostly is very distracted by how gorgeous he is, with that tight little ass in those tiny golf shorts.

Still, Hob has him swing the club a bit and yeah, sure enough Dream is a disaster. His posture is just so bad, his swing. Hob tries explaining the correct technique him, tries demonstrating, genuinely tries! But nothing seems to work, so he resorts to grabbing Dream’s hips, standing behind him, his front flush to his ass, and trying to show him how to pivot around his centre, his body has to move around a fixed point. And huh. That ass really is just as perfect as it looks. Hob can’t help starting to get hard.

Dream tries to swing again and does a little better like this, but he just can’t seem to keep his ass still when he swings, and he’s still missing his swings by a quite a bit. He’s crestfallen about it, he’s so desperate to not disappoint his father, and Hob just can’t see such a sweet thing cry with that perfect ass rubbing against his cock without getting… ideas.

“Well,” he says, “there is a way pros do it. To really perfect pivoting on your centre, you know? But… it’s really harsh stuff— you know what? Forget it-“

“No!” Dream shouts. He has to please his father. He needs to learn. “Please, Mr Gadling?”

Hob sighs really dramatically.

“Well, it’s a really tough technique, I wouldn’t blame you for tapping out, but it would help you get a sense of that pivot in no time…”

“Will you stop dithering and just tell me what it is? I need to get good, no matter how!”

“Well,” Hob says, “I could stand behind you, just like this, and put my cock inside you.” Dream’s mouth falls open in shock, but Hob continues: “I know, it’s not for the faint of heart, but I’d just stand still behind you and with my cock inside you you’d have something to pivot around easily, once you get the motion you’ll form the right muscle memory real quick and you’re done.”

Dream is red in the face and a bit speechless.

“That seems… extreme.”

Hob shrugs.

“That’s how the pros do it to really perfect their stance, but again, you don’t need to be perfect, you’ve already improved a bit. I’m sure you can improve a little more before the day’s done.”

That does it for Dream.

“No, I must see if this helps as dramatically as you say.”

He lowers his own shorts and pants immediately, putting his pretty pink hole on display, and Hob is fully hard instantly.

Thankfully, Hob keeps some massage oil in his bag for long days trekking on the green, and has been know to find a quiet spot to rub on out in his cart on slow days, so he knows it’s safe to use as lube. He lubes up quick, and puts just one finger in Dream for a moment (after all, this is supposed to be harsh training, not for anyone’s pleasure, he doesn’t want Dream to catch on. Besides, Dream will surely chicken out, might as well seize the chance).

Hob presses the tip of his cock to Dream’s hole, and Dream barely has the time to get the words “I have never” out before Hob sinks in to the hilt.

Dream keens and bends right in half.

“I’d never- I’d never-“ he half-sobs, half-moans.

Hob understands, because Dream is tight. He feels fantastic. Hob absolutely has to drag this out as long as possible.

“That’s even better,” he says cheerily, “it wouldn’t work as well if you were used to it.”

“R-really?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not sure this will help me…”

He’s shaking so bad, weak-kneed and breathing hard, and clenching so so beautifully around Hob’s cock.

Hob thinks he’s starting to figure Dream out a bit, so he says: “It absolutely will, but I did say it wasn’t easy. If it’s too difficult we can always stop-“

“No, no, please, I have to— but, how-“

“You have to straighten up, straighten your legs, hold the club firmly.”

Hob stays where he is, doesn’t lift a finger to help. Just keeps his hands grasping Dream’s hips, keeping himself buried to the hilt. He’s enjoying this immensely. Dream is so tight and squirming so good that he could make Hob come without Hob needing to move a muscle.

Dream tries, he really does, but he can’t. He just can’t stop shaking. Mr Gadling’s cock feels huge inside him, it’s so overwhelming, and he just can’t stand straight. He’s so scared to disappoint his father, though, he almost starts crying he’s so upset.

Hob sighs.

“Fine. I’ll help you. but only the once, yes?”

He pulls back, then thrusts back in hard.

Dream whips upright, gasping, back nearly flush to Hob’s chest.

“There, all better, isn’t it? Now, grip the club like I showed you, and try a swing.”

Dream’s arms and legs are still trembling, but he does try… and the ball goes almost right where he aimed. Hob’s cock inside him really does help him swing correctly! Dream is overjoyed, and Hob is so kind to keep passing him balls so Dream can bend over and place them down. And if he struggles to stand upright, Hob is always ready to thrust into him again to straighten him up.

Thing is, after Dream starts getting the hang of the motion and is less and less distraught and has to think less about the technique, he starts to really focus on Mr Gadling’s cock, and how nice it feels, especially when he thrusts in! It’s too bad he only does that when Dream can’t straighten on his own… so Dream starts to pretend to struggle. And Mr Gadling is so kind to oblige him every time! Dream is even able to stay bent in half after a thrust sometimes now he’s getting used to the feeling, and he needs two, three, four thrusts to be readjusted. And it feels. So. Good. Dream is completely overcome by it, until he can’t take it anymore. He has to pretend he’s just so tired and can’t keep his back straight, so Mr Gadling will have to keep thrusting.

Dream only means to do it for a little while, just to experience how it feels, but it’s. fucking amazing. The rhythmic slide of Hob’s cock and the slap of Hob’s balls on Dream’s hole, and before he knows it Dream is mewling and whimpering, and soon after the club is abandoned so he can touch himself… that’s when Hob’s hand closes around his.

“You know what I think, Dream? I think you’re enjoying this. I think you’re taking advantage of me to get your arse fucked instead of using my cock to learn. Now, that’s very naughty. You’re such a little slut, aren’t you? Maybe, if you cum, we can go back to learning.”

Then Hob actually starts fucking Dream. Continuous thrusts, never stopping to see if Dream will straighten his back this time. Dream hadn’t even realized that Hob had barely been fucking him before! He fucks Dream so fast and hard, cock pressing against Dream’s prostate on each stroke, and Dream very soon cums so hard he sees stars, all over himself.

Hob slows down a lot, waits for Dream to be able to speak.

“W-will we return to the lesson now, Mr Gadling?”

“Not yet.” Hob slams his cock hard back into Dream. It almost hurts. “If you think you’re so good already that you can slack off, you can try training without my cock.”

Before Dream can beg forgiveness, Hob starts fucking into Dream in earnest again, until Dream’s ass is stinging with the fast slapping of skin against it. Dream almost thinks he might cum again until Hob cums inside him. It feels like so much to Dream, and when Hob pulls out it starts dripping out so easily before Hob stops it with a finger. Hob cleans his cock off on the inside of Dream’s pants, then pulls them and the shorts up high and tight. Dream instinctively clenches up as he feels Hob’s cum start to soil his pants.

“There, clench those cheeks, love. See if that helps you keep that lovely arse still while you swing.”

Dream’s face burns with humiliation. He’s half-hard already and wants to come again so badly, Hob’s cum feels so good inside him! But he has to obey his instructor, or he won’t get better! It’s incredibly hard to keep his ass clenched while spreading his legs to swing, but his stance and aim are so improved!

By the end of the lesson, he’s hitting every hole, and he’s so happy! His father is vaguely satisfied, and decides to keep sending Dream to Hob for lessons, Dream enjoys golf a lot more now that he’s good at it, and whenever he’s anxious or frustrated or sad about things happening at home, after a while Dream doesn’t even have to pretend he needs a refresher on the right stance anymore, Hob is always willing to just fuck him so Dream can feel better!

(I have never in my life played golf, please don’t @ me)

PA

PA ANON you have scored a hole in one with this one. Oh my goodness, what a delicious treat. I am so obsessed with golf instructor Hob, I think I may actually be blushing.

Can you imagine how delightfully mean Hob is to Dream? Dream is a sheltered little posh boy and he's so easy to manipulate. One of Hob’s favourite games is making Dream go hunting for golf balls all around a 18 hole course - all with Hob’s cum inside his own cute little hole. Hob punishes him if he lets any of the cum escape while he's fetching the balls - his favourite method of punishment involves putting one entire fist inside Dream while he tries to practice his swing. When Dream trembles and falters, Hob uses his free hand to help adjust his grip... all while wearing Dream on his other hand like a glove.

He makes sure that Dream always addresses him as "Mr Gadling". He can't have the little rich-boy getting too snooty and thinking that he's too good to be fucked. Not when he was clearly made to be Hob’s pretty fuck toy. But if he is good, maybe Hob will take Dream up to the clubhouse sometime... and show off his pretty, hardworking student to all his appreciative friends <3

[littlekatleaf]

Fly down into the endless mysteries

So, what happens when one goes on vacation and instead of checking out Greece ends up checking out the ceiling of the hotel because one is stuck down with The 'vid for the first time ever? One finally finishes the Sandman fic they've been working on for *ahem* ever. Dreamling, with a visit from Desire. @prismaluv - Better late than never? Maybe?

Suddenly the flower Has fire-colored eyes And one of the shadows vanishes. Clearly, now, the flower is a bird. It lifts its head, It lifts the hinges Of its snowy wings, Tossing a moment of light In every direction ~ Mary Oliver, “What is it?”

It’s near enough to last orders when the bell above the pub door rings that Hob almost calls out that they’re finished serving before he looks up and it’s only luck (of some sort, he can’t say good or bad) that stops him. Someone pauses just inside the door, a burning vision of scarlet and gold. Raindrops glitter in their hair and dapple the velvet of their jacket a deeper red and Hob swallows, struck silent. 

An almost-memory teases the edge of his thoughts like a word on the tip of his tongue. Familiarity, though he can’t place why. The sensation is hazy, indistinct, maybe dream rather than memory? A fever dream? For an instant his skin flushes hot. Restlessness burns along his muscles. Longing floods him - for the savor of his father’s venison stew, the curve of Eleanor’s breast under her nightdress, the sparkling notes of Robyn’s laugh, the warm weight of his mother’s arms around him when he was very, very young. Over it all like a watercolor wash a wordless aching to be needed. It clenches his stomach, tightens his chest, snagging the softest parts of him with barbed hooks. Has anyone, ever, honestly needed him, in his particularity? Not for position or role - husband, son, soldier - but his deepest, truest self? If you have to ask… the song on the jukebox echoes his thoughts.

They slide into an open spot at the bar, which seems to have freed up just for them, and give a smile that somehow feels sharp as a knife blade. It cuts; he’s not sure where, but pain slices through him. He resists the urge to retreat, reverts to script. “What’ll you be having?” 

They look at him and their eyes spark amber, feline. “What would you suggest, Robert Gadlen?” Their tone is rich, smooth caramel. He has the unsettling sense they know this isn’t his name. 

“I’d wager you’re one who appreciates the finer things.” His fingers itch to toss back a shot. Or to reach out and touch their cheek, see if their skin is as rosepetal soft as he imagines. Ghost fingers squeeze his heart; yearning shivers through him like the echo of a struck bell. He turns away, ostensibly to pluck a bottle from the line behind him. The Glenmorangie Signet isn’t a whiskey he offers to just anyone, but the liquid is the color of their eyes and tastes as spicy sweet as he imagines their lips would. He pours out a couple drams, striving to ground himself, to focus on the clicking of billiard balls, the murmur of conversation, the movement of breath in his lungs. 

Hob slides the drink across the bar; they reach for it; fingers brush. Feverflush blooms through him again. 

A smirk hovers at the edge of their lips. “Why don’t you join me?” They raise the glass and take a long, slow draught. Hob watches their throat move as they swallow and finds himself wanting to press his lips to the hollow. 

Instead he pours himself a healthy measure of a significantly less expensive whiskey and tosses it back before he can taste it. Even so, he coughs once on the burn. 

“Better?” 

The word implies question, but Hob hears the demand in it and his body responds, muscles going loose. A pleasant blur settles over his senses. He nods and refills the glass. He’s going to need all the help he can get. 

“You don’t want to sit?” Hob could have sworn someone had been beside them just a second ago, but the chair they indicate is empty. 

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. Warning prickles the hair at his nape.  Heedless, he slides into the seat. Sounds muffle and recede, a bubble of privacy encases them. The air is heavy with the sweet scent of summer peaches.

They tilt their head, take in the room at a glance. “You have built an inviting space, Robert. A place for the lonely to find companionship; a home for those who lack one.”

Their unexpected understanding startles a laugh from him. “It’s my aim,” he says, shrugging. 

“You strike me as someone who has seen and experienced much in your years. Doubtless you understand the importance of family.” Layers of meaning in the words and Hob is off kilter, certain he’s missing nuance. After six centuries of practice he usually has a better grasp of a person. 

“I recognized the need in my first year teaching uni. So many students couldn’t go home for hols…” Kids who couldn’t be themselves; kids who had been rejected for who they were, for who they loved. “I couldn’t be what they lost, but I could create a haven, of a sort.”

“Blood kin plunge their dagger in the most secret corner of our hearts.” Their eyes go distant, shadowed with sadness, but only for a moment and they smile again, bright as sun reflecting from glass shards. “Chosen family can be suture and balm,” they add.

Their fingers brush Hob’s, then trail over his inner wrist. A shiver runs through him and he could swear they also shudder, cheekbones and nose suddenly stained with a light flush. Even as Hob notices, they raise a finger and rub their nose once, twice, then sniff delicately.

“It’s what I hope to provide,” Hob says. Don’t stare, he admonishes himself, but can’t seem to look away. 

“Excuse me.” Their voice pitches up, breath catching. They turn, pulling a linen handkerchief from an inner pocket of their jacket, fold it over their nose and mouth and wait. Hob waits too. 

They breathe in, slow, deep, their shoulders hunch and “Ht’chff! T’chh! Hih-t’shhew!” 

“Bless you.” He hopes the words sound more normal than he feels. He’s fairly certain his face has gone redder than theirs. 

They flash a look of gratitude over their still raised handkerchief and hold up a finger, their eyes losing focus again and drifting closed. Hob forces himself to look away; take another drink.  

Then they hitch a sharp breath and his attention snaps back. Their brows crumple and they stifle two sneezes. A third and fourth follow near on top, escaping their hold with small sounds, and the fifth breaches their defenses completely. “Ht’chesshiew!” They shake their head slightly on the exhale. “Pardon me.” Despite the contrite words, their expression is sly, eyes alight with teasing. 

Hob waves away the apology. “No need; are you quite alright?” They don’t know… do they? How could they? He’s told no one in lifetimes. He’s had too much to drink on an empty stomach. Firelight and shadow are playing tricks on his eyes. He’s imagining things.

“I’m afraid I seem to have come down with a chill.” As if to prove their point, their voice rasps over their words and they muffle a cough in their shoulder. In the aftermath, they suddenly look delicate, vulnerable, in need of protection and Hob wishes, somewhat desperately, for a chill of his own to douse the fire that licks along his skin. 

Then, almost as a prayer answered, a hand comes down on his shoulder, cool and steadying. “I believe this establishment is closed.” Dream’s words are frost-rimed, crackling.

“Good evening to you as well, my brother.” The knifeblade smile is back; their eyes flame. “I could be offended you have not yet introduced me to your … companion.”  They tsk tongue against teeth. “After all of these years. Could you be ashamed of something?”

“No.” Dream offers nothing more, arms crossed over his chest, face still as a carving. Even so, Hob can feel the tension in him.

“Why don’t you join us?” The invitation spills from Hob before he considers the wisdom. He really needs to stop doing that with Endless siblings in pubs. He tries to recover with another drink and he can feel Dream’s coming refusal in the set of his jaw.

Before he speaks, though, his sibling cocks a brow and their teeth glint, putting him in mind of a shark. “Yes, why don’t you?” The challenge couldn’t be clearer if they’d dropped a gauntlet on the bar.

Dream slides a chair between them and sits, stiffly. “Why are you here?”

“Come now, can’t a sibling want to meet their dear brother’s paramour? To have a drink and a friendly chat?”

“Delirium? Maybe. Death? Regularly. Even Despair, occasionally. But not you, Desire.”

Hob holds his expression carefully neutral. Desire - well, that explained things then, if their realm followed the pattern of Dream and Death.

They lean back and away, take a sip of their whiskey, and as they cast their gaze down, dampness shines along their lashes. Sadness flickers in the corner of their quirked lips. “Perhaps not me,” they admit with a sniff. “Perhaps I just needed shelter from the storm.”  Lightning flashes through the windows behind them. Thunder cracks and rolls. They shiver and Hob only stops himself from offering his coat at the last moment. They won’t actually need it, will they? 

“You bring the storm with you,” Dream says, giving no quarter.

They cough a mirthless laugh, and it’s followed instantly by a heavy sneeze, belatedly caught in their handkerchief. “I do,” they agree, blowing their nose. “You are not the only one in the family who appreciates melodrama. And I know an appreciative audience when I see them.” They dip their head to Hob, toss back the last of their whiskey and stand. “Relax, brother mine. I merely wished to see who you find more compelling than one I created. And he is, indeed, delicious. When you exhaust his patience with your eternal melancholy, I do hope you’ll send him my way. In the meantime, maybe loosen the stranglehold you have on your reins.” They lean forward, abrupt as a striking snake and press a kiss to Dream’s cheek and they are gone, only the jangle of the bell as the door closes to mark their movement.

In their absence, the pub seems darker, somehow. Colder. The rain on the windows hisses and branches tap the panes. Hob  blinks. “I… didn’t know you have other siblings,” he says, rather bemusedly. It’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Dream, seemingly equally nonplussed by their unexpected departure, doesn’t reply. 

Hob takes up the empty glasses, Desire’s stained with candyapple lipstick. He resists the urge to run his finger through the gloss as he slides it into the dishwasher. He wants to ask about Desire, ask what they meant ‘the one I created.’ But before he can figure out how to phrase it, there’s an odd squelching sound. 

He looks up to find Dream hunched forward, shoulders practically to his ears as he pinches another sneeze firmly to near silence. “Bless you?” 

“Th-thank you… ht’Gnxxt!” Neither this one or the several that follow seem to offer any relief. Even in the brief pause between contained explosions, he stays hunched into himself, as though he could hide in the middle of the room. 

Hob’s torn between wanting to offer assistance somehow, and just wanting… He compromises, presses a tissue into the hand hovering lightly curled under Dream’s nose, which has gone an endearing pink, and lets his other hand linger on Dream’s back in comfort. Not to feel the muscles tense and relax as another set seizes him. “Httnxxt! N’xxt!  Hih-N’xxtch!”

“Bless…”

“Hih…ht’Issh! Issh! Hih-Isssh!” He gasps a breath, two, and dissolves again. “It’chh!  Ishh!  Issshuhh!” At first he’s careful to keep each fit relatively contained, but as the sneezes keep coming he is gradually overcome, eyes tearing, nose running, and the last couple burst free. “Huhusssh!�� Ussshuh!” 

For a long moment, in the silence following the outburst, Hob can only stare at Dream as he blinks fuzzily in the aftermath, undone. “Are you…” He’s not sure how to end the sentence. Finished? Okay? 

“It seems my dear sibling has left me a parting gift,” Dream says, consonants blurred with congestion. 

“Gift?” Hob echoes and his voice cracks like a bloke hitting puberty, before realizing Dream is being sarcastic, of course he is. Why would anyone think that was a gift.

Dream wipes the moisture from his eyes, blows his nose, and studies Hob so closely he feels uncomfortably like an insect under glass. Slowly any lingering hint of embarrassment is replaced with a different flush. His eyes go black and starry and his voice, when he speaks is deep in the way that makes Hob’s knees weak. “Only you know the answer to that, Hob.”

Hob rubs the back of his neck and grins, a little rueful. “Well, if you’re ill, you’d better come to bed.”

[nicelytousled]

editing together a vid of my favourite hob and dream moments from the audiobooks and i'm losing it at how the volume increases after hob tells dream he thinks dream is lonely the guy is SO dramatic

[tafadhali]

I posted recs of 25 of my favorite fanworks produced this year over on my DW and thought I should cross-post them here! List is arranged alphabetically by fandom and is a mix of fic and vids from 2023 (that weren't created for Festivids or Yuletide, because I always rec a lot from those challenges).

The Shipping Forecast series by leupagus (Broadchurch, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller, 23k)

Ellie Miller and Alec Hardy, drifting together.

📺 I Wanna Be Evil by lilly_the_kid (Child’s Play | Chucky, Tiffany Valentine, fanvid)

You're sweet, my dear. Prim and proper.

beneath your weary heart by waveridden (Dimension 20, Ricky Matsui/Esther Sinclair, 10k)

It’s a comfort, having a name that is right. It is a comfort knowing that she is Sorrow and sorrow is her and they are one and the same. This is who she was meant to be. It is always who she was meant to be. And yet. (Or: Esther becomes the fury of Sorrow.)

📺 Mastermind by BeatriceEagle (Dimension 20, Brennan Lee Mulligan, fanvid)

"We support you as a DM and as our friend, but also you're our enemy." —Siobhan Thompson

Not According to Their Fanfiction series by AgentStannerShipper (Dimension 20, Evan Kelmp/K Tanaka, 63k)

Five tropes that did not live up to the fanfiction, and one that did. Spring semester at Gowpenny, a lot of feelings, and a lot of growth. Also featuring Evan's shadow (my beloved), true jock Jammer, Sam being the figurative wine aunt friend, Evan being a Good Boy, and K being exactly as horny as canon made them.

your heart, love by ASongofSixpence (Dimension 20, KP Hob/Delloso de la Rue, 8k)

Rue learns about something special that happens to goblins on All Hallows' Eve, and has big feelings about the use of the word 'monster.'

📺 After All by periru3 (Everything Everywhere All at Once, Jobu Tupaki, fanvid)

It felt like a winter machine that you go through and then / you catch your breath and winter starts again / and everyone else is spring bound

Chemistry by Twilightcitysky (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, 122k)

Aziraphale and Crowley have been living among humans for 6000 years, but there have always been parts of the human experience they've chosen to avoid (like allergies, head colds, and having to use the loo). They've also never let hormones get in the way of making rational decisions, because they didn't have any hormones to speak of. That's all about to change.

come raise your flag upon me by trinityofone (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, 5k)

Aziraphale persuades Crowley to accompany him to Heaven, to be Forgiven. Things get...weirder before they get better.

Covenant of Salt by thingswithwings (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, 18k)

Aziraphale's hand slides down past Crowley's hip to fist his cock in time with his thrusts, and he bites again, and again, down to Crowley's naked shoulder, up to his earlobe, not meaning to be sexy, just biting like he's eating, tasting the salt on Crowley's skin, like he might consume Crowley entirely if given enough time. "Talk to me," he gasps, between thrusts, between bites, his voice shaking. "No," Crowley grits out, just before he comes.

📺 Hate Me by killabeez (Interview with the Vampire, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, fanvid)

“I love you with my whole soul, and I will always love you,” he confided to me. “You are my life. I have hated you for that and love you now so much that you’ve been my instructor in loving." —Blood Communion: A Tale of Prince Lestat

Bones and Blood: A Jurassic Park Survivor’s Story by avocadomoon (Jurassic Park, Billy Brennan/Alan Grant, 10k)

Billy was still staring at him. His face looked narrow and shadowed in the spotty kitchen lighting. Alan always thought about geometry when he looked at Billy: angles and rays and points and transversals. He was beautiful in the way that math was beautiful: like an equation that was beyond Alan's abilities, too complex for him to handle. But there, nonetheless. Holding all the secrets of the universe, if only Alan could figure out how to solve him.

Extended Disconnection by lick (Murderbot Diaries, Ayda Mensah, 91k)

Dr. Mensah's perspective from Chapter 8 of All Systems Red through Exit Strategy.

📺 They Don’t Care About Us by avg (Murderbot Diaries, “Human One” Refugee, animatic)

The story of a refugee.

Friday Keeps Coming Next by rattyjol (Nine Worlds, Artorin Damara & Cliopher Mdang, 38k)

Cliopher and his Radiancy break time. Again.

Embers by alfgifu (Nine Worlds, Cliopher Mdang, 126k)

A novel-length prequel to Hands of the Emperor about Kip's early years in service

A Most Restful Vacation by Quasar (Nine Worlds, Jemis Greenwing, minor pairings, 106k)

Jemis is invited to attend the investiture of the Viceroy of Zunidh, which promises to be a delightful trip with Almost No Adventures along the way.

An Officer and a Gentleman by cedarboots (Persuasion, Anne Elliot/Frederick Wentworth, 47k)

“Eight years changes a person, but not beyond all recognition. Fred Wentworth and Anne Elliot, years after a final break, find that they are more alike, in some respects, than they thought before.” (Butch4Butch AU)

first base by octothorpetopus (Sports Night, Casey McCall/Dan Rydell, 118k)

Dan Rydell was born in 1969 in Hartford, Connecticut. He came to life in Minneapolis in 1988. When he met Casey.

Sugar in Your Hand by WerewolvesAreReal (Star Trek, James T. Kirk/Spock, 13k)

Kirk meets a Vulcan, marries a Vulcan, and apparently outrages the entire Vulcan government in one day. He's an overachiever like that.

📺 Hate to Say I Told You So by findmeinthealps (Taskmaster, Alex Horne, fanvid)

Alex Horne being Alex Horne.

home is where by oliviacirce (Ted Lasso, Trent Crimm/Ted Lasso, 6k)

“Ted learns that sometimes when you ask people what they want, you (just might) get what you need.”

in the cards by jedusaur (Ted Lasso, Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt, 4k)

Whenever he says he's not feeling anything, that's when Dr. Sharon pulls out the fucking cards. Roy can't fucking stand the fucking cards. They're plain white with plain black text, each displaying the name of a different emotion, and he's supposed to go through them and decide whether he's feeling each thing or not. It's fucking stupid, it makes him feel like a fucking toddler, and worst of all, it fucking works.

Second Nature by MoreThanSlightly (Ted Lasso, Keeley Jones/Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt, 27k)

The first time they switch, Jamie’s fucking Keeley. It’s amazing, best sex of his life, and he wonders what it feels like for her—good, by the sound of it—and then a second later, he’s looking at his own face. He’s lying on his back staring up at himself. “What the fuck,” he says in Keeley’s voice.

📺 Cockroach Motherfuckers by eruthros & thingswithwings (Multifandom, fanvid)

A celebration of all the queer characters you can't bury. Or, if you do bury them, they don't stay down for long.

[themirokai]

Have you seen this raven post yet?

https://at.tumblr.com/janimoon/702973663855656960/o3sg0ds428l6

I saw it and immediately tried to find who wrote the Matthew fics based on raven vids ��

Hello! Dropping a link here so that it’s clickable for others!

A few people have sent me this lovely video and I so appreciate it. Rest assured it is in the hopper with a few other wonderful prompts. At the moment I’m working on the Meeting of Matthew and Hob fic that got foreshadowed here and teased here. It’s a longer one (for me and this series) and irl is busy but I’m hoping to finish in the next couple weeks.

I thought about putting a list of upcoming prompts in the Master Post but I love seeing what people send me! 🥰 Everyone who sent me the same prompt will get tagged when I post.

I’ve been completely blown away by the reaction to the raven fics. Writing them makes me really happy and so it’s like an extra decadent buttercream icing on the cake that reading them makes other people happy.

Thanks again and thanks to everyone who’s been reading! ❤️❤️

[hobgoblinns]

i have published my tomfoolery

[kon-konk]

That perfect beef Wellington reminds me of the amazing sausage vid where he made a perfect one than immediately turned it into a sausage

I was already hungry (probs part of why I haven't gone to sleep yet) but damn that video made me want a beef Wellington. I don't eat mushrooms but I still want one.

And now I want sausage because I love that guy's channel

My biggest question about that tiktok is why is there like... A pro-grade stainless steel kitchen island in a frat house (or dorms? Big ass shared apartment?)????? It's not like it's a pro kitchen they borrowed as a set. The other countertops and the hob all look fairly standard for a domestic setting.

[out-there-tmblr]

I posted 3,111 times in 2022

20 posts created (1%)

3,091 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@inappropriatewenning

@azcrowleyfell

@murderbirds

@softest-punk

@green-violin-bow

I tagged 2,735 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#the untamed - 1,109 posts

#gotham - 330 posts

#wangxian - 315 posts

#good omens - 270 posts

#nygmobblepot - 240 posts

#hee! - 203 posts

#ineffable husbands - 202 posts

#goncharov - 188 posts

#unreality - 174 posts

#the sandman - 157 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i tend to file off a lot of the pettiness or keep it as a little internal sharpness towards friends but not something he would ever act on

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Characters: Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Niè Huáisāng Additional Tags: WangXian, Fandomtrees Mulitfandom Gifting Fest, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - After College/University, college pining, LWJ would wear the hell out of a corporate black suit, wwx is great with kids Summary:

Wei Ying doesn't look away until Jiang Cheng groans beside him, "Don't start this again."

"Don't start what again? I'm not starting anything. I'm not doing anything. I'm just standing right here, keeping my loser brother company," Wei Ying says, grinning widely. Somehow, Lan Zhan looks even better than Wei Ying remembers.

8 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

#4

Vid rec - runs in the family (the Untamed)

I just came across this on YouTube and wow does rhis vid pack a punch. So much family trauma and love, and all twisted together. The editing is fantastic but it takes a few watches to realise how well those shots go with the lyrics.

I love the Lan brothers and their desperate devotion (to anyone who'll have me... fill me up), and the match of Zidian to "we're wonderful folks" for the Jiangs. I love the running section, JGY running for office, and LWJ running for a cause, NHS running from responsibility, and JC running into debt with his new golden core. Its great editing but it takes a few watches to appreciate it.

15 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

#3

The Untamed || Build a B*tch || Jin Guangyao

I came across this vid on YouTube and it’s delightful. I will always love vids that show JGY at his sweetest and most vicious.

15 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

#2

All this Goncharov renaissance on Tumblr has me nostalgic enough to watch Reservoir Dogs. Harvey Keitel might be missing the Russian accent and the eyepatch, but Mr White has always reminded me of Andrey. An Andrey who made it out of Naples with Goncharov, who got out of Italy with hope instead of heartbreak. An older Andrey who's mellowed with time, who's relaxed his guard without constantly juggling his loyalty to Goncharov with his assigned job.

22 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know, Tumblr reactions made episode 6 sound pretty gay, and I disregarded that as background noise because I never got that vibe from Hob in the comics. Then I watched episode 6.

Wow. I was so wrong.

Dream smiled! That felt like watching the gayest romance ever.

For a series with actual queer rep, that episode was gayer than everything else so far.

34 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[superdogbiter]

On the phone with Dream

Dream:”Where are you right now?!?!?!”

Hob:”I’m at SOUP!

Dream:”What do you mean,you’re at soup??”

Hob:”It means i’m at SOUP”

Dream:”WHAT STORE ARE YOU IN?!

Hob:”I’M AT THE SOUP STORE BUYING CLOTHES”

Dream:”WHY ARE YOU BUYING CLOTHES AT THE SOUP STORE?!!?”

Hob:”FUCK YOU”

[thranduilland]

Dreamling- I'll be Waiting- Isak Danielson

[gemsofthegalaxy]

Babe new Cj the X quote dropped and it's very Hob.

"A coward dies a thousand deaths, a solider dies only once"

[hobee]

the type to cutely make wishes