#kms asks

[7-deadly-cats]

soo i almost finished the chapter and I’m actually surprised that reader was so shocked that rafe is lowkey misogynistic bc he constantly talks about other girls who aren’t reader in such a weird way it’s eww (and it’s not a criticism of your writing, cause i think it’s actually a good portrayal of a man bc they are like that and I really like your writing, but it just hit me that reader didn’t really have a problem with it before until it was about her personally)

no offense taken at all omg i'm actually really glad you pointed that out!! first of all--and this is important--i never claimed this reader was flawless or perfect (no reader should be imo). she's def got her own blind spots and flaws, and this is actually one of them.

you’re totally right that (kms!)rafe is lowkey misogynistic (or shows traits that lean that way), e.g. the way he talks about past hookups, how he reacts to stuff, and just how he speaks about women in general, it’s there. and yeah, reader does ignore it a lot of the time or just brushes it off. not because it’s okay (which it's not) but because she has a huge crush on him and is now actually truly falling in love.

and i think when you’re in that early phase of having feelings for someone, you kinda subconsciously ignore all the red flags because you want to keep the version of them in your head “clean” and nice and ideal. she’s not blind to his behavior, e.g. she notices his mood swings, his anger issues, the way he talks about girls, but she doesn’t actually let it hit her until it affects her directly. and that’s a flaw of hers!!

i’m glad you caught that bc sometimes i do worry i made her too understanding or too aware or just too chill?? but nah. she’s not a mary sue. no reader or human is. and this thing you pointed out--how she only really reacts when the misogyny is about her--that’s actually just one part of a bigger issue with her, which is deflection. she doesn’t like facing the things that ruin her image of him.

and tbh a part of that is internalized misogyny too. like, she kinda "accepts" the way he talks about other girls—not bc she likes it, but bc it’s not directed at her. and on some level she probably feels like she's the "exception," like she's different and safe from it. which is... not great obviously, but it’s also a pretty common mindset, i believe (sadly i went through that too). she’s still learning that being the exception doesn’t mean the behavior isn’t harmful. (like we need to remember she's NO grown woman, she's very mature BUT she's still just a young woman stepping into adulthood and learning about stuff) and a lot of the time she chooses to ignore it bc acknowledging it would mean questioning the whole thing—him, her feelings, the relationship—and she’s not ready for that yet.

and like. no one’s even mentioned how chill she is about the coke use or the fact that he’s always down to fight someone lmfao?? like yeah she told him to apologize to topper during the open air movie night but she never really went "hey stop beating the shit outta people" either lol. again: she notices it but lets it slide because she’s still in that phase of "he’s so messed up but i'm in love".

so yeah, her finally realizing his behavior was bad when it’s about her is a small turning point. like that scene where she thinks:

And that’s when it hit you. Both the cocky asshole and this anxious boy were Rafe. It wasn’t a mask or a false front; neither of them masked the other. Both were real. Maybe you’d known deep down and just didn’t want to acknowledge this ugly side. But it was there. It was just part of him.

also--just to throw it in here--while we as readers see A LOT of rafe’s misogyny and internal issues bc we’ve been in his head so much through his povs, reader hasn’t. she obviously hears the gross stuff he says out loud occasionally (like sometimes calling girls bitches etc), but a lot of it is internal. she doesn't know how he actually thinks about stuff the way WE do. not trying to defend him AT ALL, just saying that her perspective is limited and filtered through what he chooses to show her and not what we as readers see.

anyway i feel like i’m rambling now lmao (sorry for this long-ass answer, just such an interesting point to talk about) but yeah. this was a really good observation and i actually really appreciate you pointing it out. and i’m hoping to include a scene soon where reader fully starts questioning if she wants this, aka the drugs, the violence, the deeper layers of him, bc right now she’s still in the “he’s an anxious boy so of course he acts like this plus im in love so idgaf ” phase.

did this clear things up or y'all starting to hate reader now help???

xx ᓚᘏᗢ

[the-phantom-peach]

Hello can I ask for more Sksw Zelink and pretty please the first Link/Chosen link with Hylia. It's ok if it's either one of those even just a sketch. Thank you, you are really one of my biggest inspiration and I adore your art 💞💞💞💕

Hope you have a nice day, thanks!!

fake lovers when real lovers walk into the room: 💥💥

[finifugue]

"Bring back cunty F1" "Bring back F1 drivers who don't care about PR and just say what they think" "Bring back F1 where the drivers are actually allowed to be rivals"

You fools. You insolent buffoons. You can't handle the Ferrari drivers taking shots at each other in separate interviews. You can't handle Max saying what everyone else is thinking. You can't even handle Lando Norris existing. And you think you would survive watching Multi-21 happen in real time? Or, God forbid, classic F1? I'm laughing.

[teammarkhelly]

"to watch you dance is like dying and finding out there actually is a heaven" jack mcmillan, 1x01, étoile

[frankensteinposm0]

« But you are everything to me. »

I might turn this into a comic but I have to think about it. Anyways the sillies 🫶🏻

[solardrop]

take a picture,

aaron hotchner x reader

summary: at least Hotch has a picture of you when he misses you. tags: smut. 18+ mdni, reader isn't actually here hotch is just having fun by himself. he's just jerking it idk what else to tag here sorry. not proofread word count: ~0.8k a/n: I keep saying I want to practice smut sooooo i attempted to practice. I hope you like it! you can also read it on ao3!

This was a normal reaction to missing you.

At least, that’s what Aaron tells himself, glaring down at the proof of his arousal. You’ve been gone for less than a week. But he was like this. He’d just gotten off the phone with you. Your voice was darker, raspier than last time. Your boss was really running you ragged on that work trip. It broke his heart.

He lets out a deep sigh, spitting into his palm with a grudge before slipping his hand into the elastic waist of his boxers. His cock was painfully hard from just a phone conversation. Just a few soft, “I love you’s” riling him up to an embarrassing point. He wraps a strong hand around himself, humming at the relief the simple touch gave him. There was no point sitting here, frustrated, missing you, when he could take care of himself now before bed.  

He starts off slowly, lazy strokes just along his shaft. He doesn’t squeeze at the head just yet — you wouldn’t do that, not yet. You’d make him wait, bring him as close as possible to the edge before pushing him over it. 

He could almost feel it, your perfect hands gripping his length as you pull him into a leaking mess. It was silly, really; How many times you beg to have him just like this. How everytime he erupts in your hands you thank him earnestly. Whispering praise and sweet words into his good ear, making sure he could hear every filthy, honeyed word that falls out of your mouth. 

He pulls himself out of the confines of his boxers, reaching for the drawer of the nightstand with his opposite hand. His pace increases, the wet sound of him working himself filling the room as he rummages blindly in the dresser. His face prickles as his fingers land on the leather. He shouldn’t keep doing this. It was embarrassing, and frankly disrespectful for him to do. 

But God did he miss you.

He flips open his wallet, slipping the small square photograph out of its pocket. His dick throbs as soon as his fingers touch the shiny surface. 

It wasn’t his first time doing this, tending to himself while looking at this picture of you. The thumbprint permanently embedded into the laminated coating was enough proof of that. But it didn’t make him feel any less guilty about it — if only his cock had the same shame. 

He knows the picture isn’t particularly sexy or intimate. It was just an extra headshot from work you slid his way. But you were always apart for so long. And he always wanted to see you. Until one day he realized he just … could. 

He told himself it was just one time. By the third time he said it was the last time. But by the tenth time he realized he couldn’t finish without seeing you. It was wrong, defiling an otherwise innocent photo of yours like this. He knows he really needs to stop.

 But right now? You were just so, so pretty. 

He finally shifts his attention to the head of his cock, grunting at the sensitive shock that runs through him as he spreads the gathering precum down his shaft. His eyes trace your features as he pumps himself. Your face was so bright, a beaming smile and confident eyes shining back at him. You looked so cleaned up, professional; your hair slicked back and tamed precisely. He smiles. Pressure building inside of him. Only he knows the hell that went into the simple snapshot. You curse up a storm at every curl and tuft that just wouldn't cooperate the day of. 

He really just loves everything about you. 

LIke how your eyes always pierce into his as he’s pressing into you, just like right now. 

Or how your brows are relaxed, face content; just like when you come down from your orgasms. 

Especially your lips, how they stretch around him perfectly just like- Shit. 

He pants as he grips himself at the base, screwing his eyes shut. Grunting out your name with a string of curses as he wills himself to last a bit longer. But he fucks up. Glancing at you far too soon. He makes eye contact with you, and he’s finished. His hips buck, fucking into his hand as his balls tighten almost painfully. His thighs tense as he cums, the thick spurts landing everywhere, warm drops decorating his hands and stomach. He continues to squeeze, moaning your name out into the empty walls around him. 

The tension in his belly finally fades, relief and warmth washing over him. He still strokes his softening flesh, despite his body starting to shake with sensitivity — It’s what you would do if you were here anyways. He brings the picture of you up to his face, ready to look at it once more before tucking it away again when he chokes. His skin blazes as he realizes a bit of his spend landed its way onto the small cardstock of your face. His groin whirls with excitement, again. He catches himself laughing before he could stop himself. 

At least he already has his materials out this time.

[amelia-yap]

carrd

DM or email me for inquiry! Links in carrd.

[housecow]

its ex-jock this, ruined athlete that… what about us fatties that have never exercised purposefully a day in our lives. even if i wanted to lose weight i have no clue how to exert myself meaningfully

anytime i do something that gets me out of breath (walking from my car into the grocery store) my only thoughts are “i hate this, when can i sit down and eat again?” or, “i cant wait until i need a mobility scooter”

i wasn’t meant to move. i should be fed until it’s hard to do anything but get bigger—and it SHOWS.

[bulbabutt]

midnight trauma dump off, who can make the other one more uncomfortable faster

its not leo.

(got a sideblog for this shit now)

[7-deadly-cats]

when i saw this i IMMEDIATELY thought about yn and rafe!!! 🤭🤭🤭

ilysm have a great day 💕💕💕‼️‼️‼️

OMGMGMFM THAT U EVEN THOUGHT OF SOMETHING I “MADE” AHHHHH (making me blush n all that shit) 😭😭🩷🩷

AND HOLY SHIT YES OGMGMGM this is def where i see them (maybe not right now entirely bc rafe is still struggling to understand her brain and behavior but currently setting the ground for this 😈‼️‼️)

thx for sending me this, made me smile instantly and love you too 😭🫶

[ellierium]

꩜.𖥔 ˖ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ (ɢɪᴠɪɴ' ᴜᴘ). [ᴇ.ᴡ. & ᴀ.ᴀ.]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ.

A ROUTINE patrol goes wrong for our friendly neighborhood spider-woman! who can she rely on in this time of need? our favorite human-host and alien-symbiote duo, of course!

pairing: modern!venom!abby anderson x modern!spider-woman!ellie williams tags: frenemies (?) to lovers, comedy, ellie williams is a bad spiderman, abby anderson is a worse venom, physical hurt/comfort, symbiote healing, blood, slight gore. mdni. a/n: um. is this too niche? i used to write for spider-verse... and i am just a girl i fear. I'll probably post this on ao3 as well. have fun! ⸺ℰ word count: 1.4k

Ellie’s desperate, she knows that. 

Really, she does.

She's not entirely sure what comes over her. Not sure what possesses her to swing her way to Abby Anderson’s apartment in goddamn Hell’s Kitchen, not sure what has her colliding with the wall unceremoniously because of course she stumbles. Maybe it’s the piece of scrap metal stuck in her side. Honestly, she's not even sure if Abby is home.

So, she knocks. 

This really isn’t her best idea. She has a lot of those, but this is definitely one of the worst ones. She thinks she knows what she wants – she wants Abby to force her to go to the hospital and see a doctor. 

But she knows what she really wants is for Abby to fix her up herself. She wants Abby to joke around with her, try to make her laugh to distract her from the blood she's losing. That’s all a maybe, though– it’s if she lets herself really yearn. 

She stands there in her shredded suit and a stretched-out t-shirt she snatched from a street vendor, waiting for Abby to answer the door. She thinks she looks weird. She knows she looks insane.

She doesn’t have to wait too long– never really does if Abby can help it– but she's not expecting what greets her. She thought Abby would answer the door with that usual Abby Anderson charm – or lack thereof – that lazy smirk on her face because she’s so smug and thinks she’s right all the time. The stormy blue eyes and a sarcastic greeting on her tongue that Ellie wants to kiss her for. She thought she’d be – content, to say the least.

Instead, Abby is standing unnervingly still. Her eyes are dark and her eyebrows are furrowed, her lips are turned down in a frown, and Ellie realizes she has a peep-hole way too late. She's still relieved to see her, just a little bit, anyway. Her lips just barely turn up. “Abby,” she breathes, “I didn’t– Know where to go–”

She's lying. She knew where to go. But she also knew she wouldn’t be able to go out again if Maria and Tommy ever found out that she got beat this bad. Maria would make her life infinitely more difficult than it already is and Tommy would make sure she could never wear the suit again, and she would die, probably, if she spent that much time away from it all.

And fuck, actually, if she wasn’t a little afraid that she could be dying – Abby isn’t a surgeon, can’t possibly take this thing out of her side, but she doesn’t want to go to a hospital, can’t possibly go home on her own. She can’t do anything but feel all this pain, but Abby’s hands are soft where they hold her arms. Abby’s hands are soft and clean and have no blood on them – not yet, anyway, not until Ellie walks into her home. Then the whole place is coated in the stuff – drippy and dark and disgusting– and Ellie just keeps painting the walls with it. 

She blinks as she's guided to Abby’s dining table– God, if I don’t die, I gotta remember to hit up IKEA– 

“Ellie, what the fuck?” She hears Abby’s frantic voice, low and not at all happy– it makes Ellie nauseous, or maybe it's the blood loss, she's not entirely sure, but blood dribbles out of her mouth anyway.

She groans, letting out half-sobs as Abby gently lays her down. Tears well in her eyes– not because of the pain, no– the care. Abby handles her like she's made of glass, and she's not so sure that she isn’t. She honestly doesn’t know what she's made out of– maybe bits and pieces of everyone she's ever known– maybe nothing in particular.

“What the hell happened?” She's asking, and God, Ellie doesn’t fuckin’ know. Doesn’t know a damn thing except that she webbed up that asshole mugger to the side of the closest NYPD precinct, that the scrap metal in her side knocked the wind out of her, that she had to fumble with her webs and blink the spots out of her eyes to make sure she was swinging in the right direction. She barely thought of where to go, just knew that her dear frenemy Abigail Anderson lived on the corner of 10th Ave and W 49th.

The spots are back, her breath is getting shallow, and she’s a little scared. Her hands clench Abby’s wrists.

“Abs–” 

“I’m here,” Abby says, soft and sure above her. Ellie watches her, but Abby’s focused on the wound in her side, on the way the skin keeps trying to heal but then it's ripped open again, a never ending loop of heal, break, heal, break.

“V, help her.” 

Help her, not help me, because she doesn’t need it. Abby’s Symbiote to the rescue, and Ellie’s shivering as he coats her skin. Abby’s there, too, underneath it all – embedded into Venom the way he’s embedded into her. They can’t be apart, and the thought of Abby sticking to her skin makes her warm. She shudders.

“Didn’t puncture anything major,” Abby says, and her eyes glaze over white. Venom blinks down at her once, then again, before Abby’s blue-grey eyes come back to comfort her.

Venom doesn’t say much, makes no sound except for the occasional hum. The goo is sticky, cold and then warm, and she feels their heartbeat against her sternum. It’s soothing, but the pain is getting to her. She can feel Venom seep under her skin, can feel him-her-them rummaging and moving around her organs to isolate the area. The worst part is when Abby pulls the fucking metal out of her side. She cries out, breath wobbly from the blinding pain that tears through skin and muscle. Might as well go straight to the bone, too.

She can barely breathe, can’t really think, but Abby looks like she's crying. Ellie just can’t have that.

“Knew you never– fuck–” She coughs, spits blood right into her own shoulder, doesn't want to stain anything else red, “–never liked me.” 

It makes Abby laugh, just barely, but it sounds more like she's trying not to choke on her breaths. Her hand rests on Ellie’s chest, where her heart beats, a little too quickly, but it’s fine. At least it’s beating. They sit and breathe and cry— Abby’s hands are still soft on her chest, Ellie’s head is still pounding. When she looks down, both of their hands are covered in blood. It makes her warm for some reason. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Abby asks after a few minutes, maybe an hour, maybe more. Ellie sighs, coughs again. The wound is tender, but there's no blood in her mouth. It’s the little things.

“Just wanted to finish,” she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut, “Didn't think about getting hurt.” 

“Stupid of you,” Abby says quietly, “Almost Venom-stupid.”

“Almost,” she agrees, grins despite herself, would laugh if she could. It hurts too much, though, just like Abby’s eyes on her right now. 

“HEY!” Venom barks, tendrils building until his head forms right by Abby’s right arm. He interrupts the moment, and for some reason, she’s a little thankful for it. “I SAVED YOUR LIFE. DID NOT EAT YOU. I COULD. I SHOULD. WE WANT TO.”

Abby shushes him, shoving at his head half-heartedly. Venom responds by digging his teeth into her arm, which does nothing. He chews angrily.

“You’re not eating her. You just had chocolate.”

“CHOCOLATE IS GOOD. I WANT MORE! HER SPLEEN IS RIGHT THERE, I COULD–”

Abby shoves him again as Ellie watches on. Nothing more to do now that she’s healed up, but the wound in her side is held together by her own skin and pieces of Venom. Pieces of Abby and Venom, because it's always two, and never just the one. Not anymore.

Ellie doesn’t say much when Abby preps the pull-out couch, but she does thank Venom when he slithers up out of nowhere to give her a pillow. It’s the softest thing she’s ever held (probably) and she takes note of the way Abby hides a blush that reaches the tips of her ears.

She doesn’t comment, and instead says goodnight when Abby turns the light off in the living room.

[multifrisky]

Since Prowl has massive booba going on, catjazz tries to do biscuits on them. Isn't easy but he gets it - somehow x3 He loves standing on them as well, big warm hood to nap on? And it's literally boobs from you boo? Perfect. Know when the tail of your cat is in your face when they stand on your shoulders, Prowl has to deal with that since CatJazz is so clingy:D

he can never get ANY work done with this stupid cat

its not all bad tho ☺️

[peace-hunter]

How does megs feel knowing that his ex enemy can talk to his idol

devastated, he's never been closer to defecting from his own fucking faction than when he realized he could've used his former bestie as a ouija board to talk to his bias

[amourtoken]

https://www.tumblr.com/amourtoken/777468233297133568/why-are-u-manspreading-if-u-dont-want-me-to-rub

Quinn Hughes

he is DEFINITELY PART OF THE PROBLEM YEAH

[nunutiny]

Desire ◇ Yunho

[viviandarkbloombartylusversion]

Everytime I remember that Silco never met Isha and never saw Jinx and Sevika getting along I run to ao3 to sooth the pain