#kms. anyway

[lovelesslittleloser]

GUYS HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE POSITIVE WITHOUT BEING ANNOYING AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I KNOW I SHOULD COMMENT ON STUFF I LIKE TO SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGE THE CREATORS BUT WORDS ARE HARD AND I HAVE SO MANY OF THEM BUT SO LITTLE TO ACTUALLY SAY AND ALSO MOST OF THEM ARE WEIRD LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY ‘I LOVE YOU AND WOULD GENUINELY DIE TO ACHIEVE ANOTHER CREATION FOR ME TO POTENTIALLY CONSUME IN THE AFTERLIFE IF I SOMEHOW MANAGE TO GET INTO HEAVEN, BECAUSE YOUR CREATION HAS CERTAINLY EARNED ITS WAY INTO THE PEARLY GATES, ALSO DO YOU WANT MY SOUL BECAUSE I DON’T NEED IT ANYMORE AND I THINK YOU DESERVE IT FOR PRODUCING SOMETHING OF THIS LEVEL OF ABSOLUTE PERFECTION’ LIKE YEAH I COULD SAY THAT BUT IM TRYING TO COME OFF AS SANE ENOUGH THAT THEY AREN’T GROSSED OUT OR SOMETHING????????

[drgnflyteabox]

Fem!reader x 141

Honestly might be able to to something with the gross stuff I saw at the hardware store I used to work at (except make it hot and 141)

Imagine you're a cashier, the only one with early morning availability so you're there at 5:45am for the 6am start. It's always the worst kinds of contractors there: rude, tired, dirty, leering gazes and sexist comments

You're pretty sick of it, but you get paid a bit more than minimum wage and you're done by 11am so, you take it with a cheery smile and fast service

The 141 contracting company starts spending at your store. So much, in fact, that your manager personally takes you aside to mention just how much they do - nearly a million a year - and how no matter what, your job is to be nice and please them

Well, you can do that. You've dealt with crazy, awful old contractors screaming in your face about lumber prices at 6:30am more than once, heard them talking about your tit's or your ass right in front of you - you can handle it

Until the masked one comes in first and hes huge, dark hoodie and cargo pants hanging low on his hips. He hands you 3k in bills only there are bloodstains on them and he watches you closely the whole time you count them out

It's... not a first, but the look he gives you makes you shiver. Pale eyelashes, tall, intimidating

The second is nicer. Too nice, in fact. He charms you before you're even fully awake, and your shift goes by quickly thinking about that winning smile and the way he'd touched your fingers while he handed you a stack of bills... not to mention those soft brown eyes

The third is... intense, for 8am. He rolls on the balls of his feet, stares at you harder than the masked one. He offers to buy you a hot chocolate at the coffee shop next door and grins like you made a joke when you decline

Their boss is fucking dreamy. Even you have to admit it, trying not to look up at his mustached, frankly porno-esque face. He's huge, as tall as the others but thick, with a little pudge around his belly. He trudges in with thick workboots and a stained t shirt, pays for 24k worth of material with a lazy smile on his face like it's nothing

You might ask head cash to move you to the garden center after all...

[syncast-err0r]

salvation.

[peanutseagle]

tea time with the bestie

[princemick]

[OSCAR] chinese grand prix 2025 // media day

[kinita375]

they really said “🙂😐🙂”

[stolenkissesdiaz]

he’s BEEN wanting that damn cookie since 2018

[akirachuuu]

He just discovered that women don't have balls

[four-pointed-leaf]

happy pride month

[emosyzoth]

when u put ur mind 2 it you can do anything including finish the lineart and coloer for a gift thats 6 days late all in a day, And you cn draw a wolf thats kind of decent

[seph-ic]

recession indicator

[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.

[myballsitchaurghouchie]

Quick fanart of one of the scenes from The Rehabilitation Of Death by @bamsara that made me tear up (it's all the siblings. The siblings together make me cry)

[honeylionbaby]

[hood-ex]

Honestly a bit ridiculous that the Titans split up when eating at a restaurant because they didn't want to draw as much attention to themselves. Like I don't think it's going to make that much of a difference when you've got someone with golden skin and fiery red hair at one table while a green dude and a cyborg sit at a table diagonal to her.

If anything, it seems more suspicious that the Titans aren't eating together. I feel like it would just start rumors that the Titans don't get along with each other, or they're only friendly with certain members.

TNTT (Vol. 2) #36