I keep thinking about hate sex between Wanda and wolf!R

Just an absolutely vicious battle for dominance with no real victor lol (in the morning they both look like they fought an army of feral cats, the whole room looks like a bomb went off, and the bed is just torn to shreds)

*𝑨𝒏𝒐𝒏'𝒔 𝑻𝒂𝒃, 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑺

WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN GN/Female/Male Werewolf! Reader | 1.2K(words)

Depictions of (aggressive) SMUT, minors DNI — hate sex — marking — enemies (with benefits) — angst — dominance and power struggle — profanity — minor monster fucking — undisclosed smut variants — overstim — I think that's it?

Enjoy, lovely reader! ────────────────┘

  Hate is a very strong word. But it’s the most accurate depiction of yours and Wanda’s relationship. No, you weren’t a couple. Not by a long shot. You hate each other too much to let anything else intervene with what you have. 

  For starters, Wanda hates how much you bite. It gets to a level that she’s beginning to run out of excuses and ways to hide the many, many marks. At first, it started small with a few here and there, but now it’s grown into a full possessive display. 

  She hates how smug you are the following morning when she stumbles into the common area, no less with an audience, she has to make her way about as normal as she can; all the while, you adorn the largest, triumphant smirk. 

   She moans louder, the friction of your mound rubbing against her clit elicits a dirty sound passed her lips. Her legs wrap around your waist tighter as she pulls you closer, her fingers rake through the length of your hair and pull on your roots, whispering in your ear each and every little thing she hates about you. All the while, you mark her skin with darkened bites that fester with your conquest. 

  Your body pins her against the wall with nowhere to go, your claws tear streaks into the once unscathed wall, flakes of creamy white paint and drywall are discarded in a trail that follows you as you each bear into the other. 

  It’s an entertaining fight. It always is. You push and she pushes back, and the rhythm of that never vanishes. She shoves her shoulder up to keep you from laying another victory bite on her, and you in kind don’t take a liking to that, your teeth bare into a snarl.

  “You asked for this,” you growl. 

  She ignores the flare of amber in your eyes as she uses her magic against you, pushing you away. 

  You hate how she expects you to be something you’re not. Never can be. She tries to force submission into you, to train you into her little pet, when that is not what you intend to be. You’ve had enough of someone being the dictator. You’re done with letting someone else be the one in control. 

  You hate how she uses her magic to strip you down, hold you down, and have her fun with you. The games she plays with the scarlet figment dancing at her fingertips, tendrils of tainted unfairness that go against any law of nature, that take away any inhibition to fight back. 

  When she tries to storm away from you, your hand moves forward and latches hold of her, entangling your fingers in her hair. She cries out, back and neck arching, and you sweep in close to mark the column along her neck. 

  You chuckle at her resolve to fight back. Your other hand loops around her, trapping her to your front and grinding your hips into the curve of her arse that fits oh so right against you. 

  “Not so fun when you’re trapped, is it?” you rasp to the shell of her ear, breath hot and laced with the wolf’s longing hunger. 

  “Not really,” she admits, “but it is when you are.”

  She catches you off your guard, turning herself, she forces you backwards some feet away. Before you can close distance, her hands articulate just how she wants you; on your knees.

  She hates the way you hold her down on any surface and make her scream and writhe in pleasure. Everything gets destroyed the moment you both become engrossed in winning this game. The couch is torn to bits, the coffee table is tilted off its even axis and supporting one unbroken leg. The walls never mend completely from their scars, and the trail of destruction follows you into the bedroom. 

  You’re ruthless at this point. Your skin is clawed up, the angry paths of her nails leave red streaks like tattoos, only the fur can hide them when you let the wolf go. Her body grows hot with each orgasm you pull from her. In your hatred for each other, there is a give and take. One that you don’t particularly acknowledge or thank. 

  It’s a muted exchange. 

  You hate the challenge in her voice. “Is that all you got, Dog? I thought wolves were feral animals in the bed—”

  The unhinged roll of your hips against hers catches the rest of her words before she has a chance to bury herself six feet under. 

  Not that such a remark should faze you. She begs for more and then cries she can’t give you another one. That it’s too much. You hate the way she lies through her bliss, her clenched teeth biting down those moans you want to hear her scream until the compound’s foundations quiver and shake. 

  The headboard of the bed raps fast and hard, the wall behind it bleeding with crumbling drywall and the sheets are shorn into threads of fabric, bodies melded together, slapping in combined unison. 

  “Right there, Wolf,” she mewls, hands flying to grasp the bars of the headboard the moment she has you on your back. She hates how you try to lay claim to her time in control and you fucking hate how she moves like a goddess. Her hair sticks to her forehead and down the bend of her back, her skin riddled coldly with sweat that is only curable with the heat of your body and being close to you. 

  “Come on, baby, cum for me,” you groan, right on the precipice of your high. Her knuckles turn white from her hold on the headboard but its stripped away from her at the moment you flip her over, pinning her on her stomach and pulling her hips to you and her legs open. 

  “Y-you’re selfish!” she shrieks into the mauled pillow, panting with each motion. You pay little to the way she squirms beneath you, to get away from you. “So are you.”

  With a bellowing cry of your name, she cums. She’s been exhausted but even you don’t let your own exertions end things just there. The list is endless. 

  In the morning, the room still lingers with the scent of sex. She moans softly, lulled by the relaxation of sleep, unknowing of the thoughts that race through your mind. The only time your mind is safe from her is when she’s asleep. 

  Her skin is sinfully warm as it rubs against you, muscles contracting at the intimate contact. 

  Far too intimate. And you hate it. 

  Nothing more can come of this arrangement. It would ruin everything. You shuffle back, leaving her naked back as a lovely sight as you dress, your clothes tinged by the smell of last night’s affair. But it’s either to suffer with that or have everyone see the still present traces of Wanda’s handiwork marked into your skin. 

  Maybe you spare a final glance at Wanda before you promptly leave.

  By no time long after, Wanda stirs and finds the ruined bed vacant of you. Only the memory of last night to be her company as she assesses the damage, mind able to still envision what transpired. 

  She can still feel what you’ve done to her. Slipping into a pair of shorts and an oversized top, she slumps against the couch’s arm with a dreaded sigh.    There are a plethora of reasons from day one you and Wanda can both count on. But one recent addition is that you both hate that you’re falling in love with each other.

can u post stills from the valentines ace attorney gif please?

sure thing!! ���💗

Where do you find these manuscripts? Is it like a website or do you find it randomly??

hey, thanks for the curiosity! lenghty answer below the cut :)

1)

medieval manuscripts are typically owned by libraries and showcased on the library's websites. so one thing i do is i randomly browse those digitized manuscript collections (like the collections of the bavarian state library or the bodleian libraries, to name just two), which everybody can do for free without any special access. some digital collections provide more useful tools than others (like search functions, filters, annotations on each manuscript). if they don't, the process of wading through numerous non-illustrated manuscripts before i find an illustrated one at all can be quite tedious.

2)

there are databases which help to navigate the vast sea of manuscripts. the one i couldn't live without personally use the most is called KdIH (Katalog der deutschsprachigen illustrierten Handschriften des Mittelalters). it's a project which aims to list all illustrated medieval manuscripts written in german dialects. the KdIH provides descriptions of the contents of each manuscript (with a focus on the illustrations), and if there's a digital reproduction of a manuscript available anywhere, the KdIH usually links to it. the KdIH is an invaluable tool for me because of its focus on illustrated manuscripts, because of the informations it provides for each manuscript, and because of its useful search function (once you've gotten over the initial confusion of how to navigate the website). the downside is that it includes only german manuscripts, which is one of the main reasons for the over-representation of german manuscripts on my blog (sorry about that).

3)

another important database for german manuscripts in general (i.e. not just illustrated ones) is the handschriftencensus, which catalogues information regarding the entirety of german language manuscripts of the middle ages, and also links to the digital reproductions of each manuscript.

4)

then there are simply considerable snowball effects. if you do even just superficial research on any medieval topic at all (say, if you open the wikipedia article on alchemy), you will inevitably stumble upon mentions of specific illustrated manuscripts. the next step is to simply search for a digital copy of the manuscript in question (this part can sometimes be easier said than done, especially when you're coming from wikipedia). one thing to keep in mind is that a manuscript illustration seldom comes alone - so every hint to any illustration at all is a greatly valuable one (if you do what i do lol). there's always gonna be something interesting in any given illustrated manuscript. (sidenote: one very effective 'cheat code' would be to simply go through all manuscripts that other online hobbyist archivers of manuscript illustrations have gone through before - like @discardingimages on tumblr - but some kind of 'professional pride' detains me from doing so. that's just a kind of stubbornness though. like, i want to find my material more or less on my own, not just the images but also the manuscripts, and i apply arbitrary rules to my search as to what exactly that means.)

5)

whatever tool or strategy i use to find specific illustrated manuscripts-- in the end, one unavoidable step is to actually manually skim through the (digitized) manuscript. i usually have at least a quick look at every single illustrated page, and i download or screenshot everything that is interesting to me. this process can take up to an hour per manuscript.

---

in conclusion, i'd say that finding cool illuminated manuscripts is much simpler than i would have thought before i started this blog. there are so many of them out there and they're basically just 'hidden in plain side', it's really astounding. finding the manuscripts doesn't require special skills, just some basic experience with/knowledge of the tools available. the reason i'm able to post interesting images almost daily is just that i spend a lot of time doing all of this, going through manuscripts, curating this blog, etc. i find a lot of comfort in it, i learn a lot along the way, and i immensely enjoy people's engagement with my posts. so that's that :)

Would you ever make a non-graphic comic on Donnie laying the eggs?

I mean, I'm not opposed to exploring such concepts, generally speaking, (as I've repeatedly showcased lol), I just don't really know what a comic like that would really entail. I don't have a good story in my mind atm about this, so I don't have any plans r/n. 🤷🏻‍♂️ If y'all have specific questions about his experience and such, then maybe I'd get an idea for something, but right now I have no plans for it.

I got a weird, nasty anon about the last part I posted of the Steddie Upside-down AU. (huzzah to my first ever message in my inbox on this blog lmao). And like, firstly, I don't owe you anything. I am writing this for fun, and I don't have to post it at all.

Secondly, why are you assuming that was the end of the story when I never even implied that. I have eight more parts written, and seven more parts outlined after that, so how about don't yell at me.

Thirdly, I don't actually owe you a happy ending!!! Like, you could have messaged me, asking politely if this story would have a happy ending, and I would have told you. But that's not the approach you've taken.

okay just hear me out modern au where tommy ends up picking up ellie from pre school almost everyday since joel is busy but he keeps meeting teacher maria

okay bestie as a preschool teacher you GOT me with this one. like you got me SO GOOD. this might actually get published to ao3, you got me soooo fuckin’ good right now. i have so many unnecessary details for such a simple plot so here’s a cut

tbh i feel like even as busy as joel is, he’d prioritize picking up and dropping of sarah as much as he can, so maybe he and tommy would alternate???? so on days when tommy drops off, joel picks up and when joel drops off, tommy picks up. sarah goes to a public preschool with a lot of kids, so she gets easily overwhelmed and sometimes needs extra cuddles or kind words in the mornings to make it out of the car.

one monday, a couple months into school, sarah is particularly VERY anxious because there’s a new teacher to replace ms. doherty, who quit unexpectedly on friday “because she said we gave her alooooottt of headaches, daddy.” now, sarah knows nothing about the new teacher except that shes a girl from a place called new york—and sarah doesn’t even know what new yawk IS like, thats So Far Away??? (“it’s not really that far, baby,” joel says to her. “and it’s new york. with an o sound.”) still, sarah is VERY concerned:

is new yawk like another planet???? (no, babygirl.) but what if she’s an alien???? (the school only hires human teachers, baby. they promised.) but what if she’s a SECRET alien??? (she won’t be, i promise.) okay but what if she’s mean???? (if she is, you tell me or tommy and we’ll talk to her about it, okay? she shouldn’t be mean to you.) what if she doesn’t play good music at quiet time???? (you can ask her nicely and i bet she will, baby. just say please and thank you, okay?)

still, even with her questions answered, sarah is very nervous on monday. both joel and tommy go with her in an effort to start her day off extra good, especially because joel can’t pick her up. they reassure her that new york has plenty of nice people and her new teacher will probably be one of them. she also gets TWO WHOLE extra minutes of cuddle time with BOTH of them before she and daddy have to leave the car—it’s half for her and half for them, because they’re honestly pretty anxious for her to like her new teacher too

joel is the one to hold sarah’s hand and walk her inside, because the school prefers only one guardian to drop off at a time. tommy’s nervous, but joel actually seems pretty pleased when he gets back to the car with no sarah in tow. surprisingly, he’s back faster than any time they’ve ever dropped sarah off before. with a proud smile, he tells tommy is that miss maria seems really nice. more importantly, she’s Black, which joel says Sarah got really excited about. tommy pries for more details, and he’s glad he does: apparently miss maria has locs, a few even blue and purple, and the first thing sarah’d said to her was an emphatic “😲😍🤩 i like your hair!!!!!!!!,” to which she had responded “thank you! i like your hair! what’s your name, sweets?” and that’d been that

later, when tommy does pickup that day, he doesn’t know what to expect. most times at the end of the day, sarah is super reserved and a bit cranky, eager to get home to finally have time to herself. tommy’s goal is usually to try and get her to at least wave goodbye to her teachers like joel asks—but, more often than not, she opts for reaching for uppies and hiding her face in his chest until they leave.

today??? no. it takes sarah a full two minutes to even notice tommy’s there because her and this drop-dead-fucking-gorgeous woman in a soft-looking lavender pants and blouse set are finishing up a painting at the easel wall. they’re working on what looks like a brown and purple butterfly, probably the most carefully shaped sarah’s ever made.

tommy’s heart stops when this goddess miss maria finally looks over at him and smiles with perfect pearly-whites, waving him over behind sarah’s back. when she says “sarah honey, i think someone’s here for you!” in her sing-songy toddler-tone, tommy swears an angel gets his wings. sarah turns around, shrieks with joy upon seeing him, and runs down to him with her arms out, yelling all the while: “THOMMYYYYYYY!!!!!”—because sarah’s still working on her hard ts—“thommy!!!! thommy thommy thommy come look!!! i made a butterfly for u!!!!! look!!!!! it matches ms. maria!!!!!! it’s gorgeous!!!!” (she’s been obsessed with calling things gorgeous ever since she heard tommy say it about a harley motorbike last week. joel especially thinks it’s cute, especially because of how she over-emphasizes the j-sound: gor-Jus.)

tommy’s never seen her so excited to show her art off at pickup-time before; usually, she waits until they’re home and she’s feeling less shy to start showing off, but she’s babbling and pointing to it as he picks her up and sets her on his hip: “it’s brown and purple like miss maria!!! isnt it so gorgeous, unca thommy??? do you like it???? aren’t they SO gorgeous????”

and now miss maria is looking at him. and he’s looking at her. tommy knows he’s blushing, and he hesitates—which sarah does NOT appreciate, so she says: “unca tommy!!!!!!! don’t be WUDE! thell miss maria she’s gorgeous!!! she is!!!”

luckily, miss maria saves him by explaining, in a slightly firmer teaching voice: “sarah sweets, that’s okay! we’re only just meeting, and that’s not really something you say to a stranger, okay?”

“but why noooooooot?? you are gorgeous! like my butterfly! isn’t she so gorgeous, thommy?”

“well, yeah, of course,” tommy agrees easily, because she obviously is—and shit. now miss maria is looking at him like he’s a fucking bonehead, because he obviously fucking is. “but—uh, i mean—she’s right, hon’. you gotta listen to your teacher, and that’s not somethin’ you say to a stranger, okay?”

but then, after thinking to her tiny self for a few seconds: “well if she stays my teacher then she’s not a stranger, is she???” sarah asks tommy, then turns her conniving little head towards maria, too. “and you said you’d stay! so can he say you’re gorgeous tomorrow?” then, without waiting for an answer, she’s back towards tommy to finish: “i think you should call her gorgeous tomorrow.”

“i think we should go home, s’what i think,” tommy says, finally deciding to save himself from four-year-old torment. he sets sarah down and pats her on the end with a gentle but firm request to go get her stuff from her cubby, which she goes to do without her complaints of being too tired to walk. maria watches them closely with a close-lipped but relaxed grin. when sarah’s out of earshot, he apologizes. “sorry ‘bout that, ma’am.”

“don’t be,” miss maria teases, crossing her arms. “you did call me gorgeous, after all. i’ve had worse introductions.”

“tommy miller,” he offers, moving to shake her hand. he notices her nails are done-up, a sparkly blend of pretty shades of purple that look tie-dyed on somehow. her hands aren’t soft, not really, but they’re smooth enough to make him shiver as he pulls away. “sarah’s uncle.”

“oh, i know,” she reassures, then nods her head pointedly towards sarah. the little one is coming back towards them with her lunchbox in one hand and her water bottle in the other, walking extra careful so she doesn’t trip over herself like she did last week, tommy guesses. clearly fond, maria continues. “she spent all day telling me about you and her daddy. you’re doing great with her.”

“unca thommy! i’m ready to go!” sarah sing-songs, interrupting whatever miss maria might’ve said next. internally, tommy thanks his niece—the you’re doing great was already enough to make him cry, and he’d rather not do so in front of either her or her amazing new teacher. plopping her lunch and bottle at tommy’s feet, sarah gives not one, but two eager waves to miss maria, hands flapping madly up towards the woman’s face. “bye miss mariaaaaa!!!! i’ll see you tomorrow!!!!”

“bye sarah sweets!” maria says back, waving just as enthusiastically. to tommy, she raises an amused, teasing eyebrow. just loud enough for him to hear as he turns away, he hears her say “bye, gorgeous,” and laugh, giving yet another angel a pair of wings.

it takes everything in him to not fall straight to the floor, toppling his own precious niece, right then. he doesn’t think he even breathes until both he and Sarah are secured in the car, him in the front and her in her carseat. she’s already babble singing mary j. blige’s “just fine,” which they usually play and sing on their way home from school to help her regulate. when he plays the song this time, sarah smiles bright at him through the rearview and says “i already feel just fine, unca tommy!!! but can we still play it, just for fun?”

“of course, baby,” he says, and start singing along with her. he’s feeling just fine, too.

🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

tagging some homies (btw just let me know if u wanna be tagged in this kinda stuff or not guys! im never sure lol): @becomethesun @clickergossip @boilingcowboy @bumblepony

7am sketches, but it's Poppy!

Because I love her!!

i NEED to practice with her more because she suits my fluffy style so MUCH. Poppy is so sweet and a MOM to me.

I love her I love her!

If u had to describe the boys as an ice cream, what flavor would they be and what toppings?

Ohohoho!!!! THAT'S SUCH A GOOD QUESTION! HMM what flavors, what flavors...

Aight!! THE COUNCIL HAS CHOSEN (and chosen to try my hand at drawing ice cream!)

5h (and a phone replacement) later I present to you!!!!

YN: Strawberry with sprinkles and a maraschino cherry! A little basic, but a classic and generally well-liked!

Moon: Macha ice cream with crumbled coffee toffee and piroulines! Smooth, a lil bitter, but surprisingly sweet, also the irony of the coffee djshsjs this Moon keeps you on your toes.

Sun: This was actually the first choice I made! Raisin Rum ice cream with candied orange! Surprisingly mature and definitely niche -- to those who don't like it, it's way too much, but those who like the flavor can't get enough!!

so I'm seeing a lot of vitriol rn but mostly I'm also seeing a lot of followers and friends being unable to cope with the death threats and the anon hate so I'd just like to remind you that it's okay to turn off anons. Do it! It's quiet and peaceful on the other side and sure you lose those happy anons too but it's worth it, trust me. Another thing is if reading about other people getting hate or seeing people answer/reply to hateful shit stirrers is affecting you, unfollow! It's okay if it's a long time mutual, they'll understand. If you're friends, you'll still be friends. Or if the idea of unfollowing makes you sad, just put them in the filtered content list. It's inbuilt into tumblr (under the general settings tab) and you just take their url and copy paste it in there, and all their posts would be filtered until you're feeling open to seeing their stuff again. there is no shame in doing this honestly, it doesn't make you a shitty friend or a mutual or a blog, and I'd recommend this to big and small blogs who are finding it hard to not feel anxious anytime they visit their dash

Please, please give us more Steve x reader x Mike. Doctor's orders is the first fanfiction I've read word by word in a long time.

OH IM ON IT 100% 🫡

enough with ai. make an invention that can let me learn every language in the world so that I can understand every song, book, and poem in its original context 😭 🎶

THIS

Why not hunt down some fun fanfics to read while you rest your wrists?

unfortunately i have hunted too enthusiastically and drained the area's natural resources

myyfather has been watching grian.😭

hayley has 70.8% while ljg has 29.2% as of 5:23pm

that cant be right 😭 come on guys what happened to transsexualism wins? we need to get this to 50/50

in photoshop fixing clipping on sims pics like i love you duplicate layer, i love you liquify tool, i love you clone tool, i love you magnetic lasso tool, i love you spot healing brush we should all lez out together

Hey! I was just wondering what your thoughts on Janeway x Seven were? (Love your content btw, it makes me happy)

Janeway/Seven Aesthetics, Themes: God & Her Angel. Creator and Creation -> Monster Movie, It's Alive!, Works of Art. Overbearing expectation. Overwhelming conditional love. "I'd die for you, I'd do anything for you" and meaning it. Requited but Unconsummated love (to 'consummate' here has no sexual connotation but a sense of being 'complete'). Unexpressed but constant pressure. Biting the hand that feeds you. Being keenly observed. A Certain Type of Control being mistaken for care. "I know what's best for you". The lofty and the ungraspable. Teacher/Student. Ant vs Machine. Sad old timey people in photographs standing too far away to see their faces. Telling someone to 'run' while holding the scruff of their neck. Womanhood and Personhood as idealized concepts. Womanhood and Personhood as performance. Hypocrisy. Benevolent[?] Gods are still Gods in the end. Idealization of the other until they can only disappoint or awe you <- Inability to truly see eye-to-eye. Mother/Father Issues. Power Imbalance. Victorian era. The 20's. Perfection and the yearning for it. It's difficult to love someone who means and is so much to you. Who is no longer another person but a complex web of identities that sometimes clash or contradict one another.

I like Janeway/Seven but only in a very specific way! I feel like most of the ways I see it are too boring for me personally to be invested. In my mind it's a relationship that would never actually come to pass (Janeway would ultimately not allow it even if she encouraged it - mixed signals) but which would take up a large portion of both of their minds and lives. Janeway is Everything to Seven. She's her worst enemy and the love of her life and she killed her and she gave her new life and she's the reason for all her suffering, all her joy. Infuriating and exhilarating. Deeply confusing. Janeway meanwhile sees Seven as a poor little thing, as dangerous, as a work of art, as herself, as something that can be MORE than what she is now, as an attractive woman, a child, her friend, her subordinate, a concept, an ingenue, a genius etc. Are you trying to make me A woman or Your woman? Am I a human before that? Am I a person first or your subordinate first? If you're nothing like the Borg why does this feel so familiar? [Receiving orders and carrying them out, bending to your will eventually even if we bicker beforehand.] "You're free to do what you want, Seven." [Within reason.] "You don't have to obey anyone, Seven." [Except me.] "This is your life, Seven. Your identity to do what you want with." [Except when I don't agree.] Seven: I don't want this. Janeway: You don't know what you want. Seven: I don't like this. Janeway: You will, eventually. Seven: What if I want to do something else? Janeway: You won't. It's what you are, don't resist it. / Resistance is futile. Janeway says that Seven can do as she pleases but as the captain of a starship she cannot actually allow that. And as a person who has a history of strong moral opinions on what is right and wrong (and a further history of asserting these opinions as factual, rules, and to be adhered to by others) she probably wouldn't have been the best person to explore one's humanity with even if they had been equals in regards to rank. I don't mean to make Janeway a villain in saying this, I earnestly think it's a very interesting facet of her personality. Flaws build character and Janeway has a tendency to impose very high standards for herself and those around her. Whatever Seven did and does would be taken by Janeway as a reflection of herself in my mind. Seven the person exists because Janeway gave her life, after all. This is inescapable v_v No matter how far Seven strays from Janeway's original vision of/for her - she will always be in the shadow of it. It's a debt that can never be repaid and not because Janeway desires to hold it above her head (she explicitly would NOT) - it's just the nature of the thing. The situation might not be ideal but damn sure someone or something's gonna be idealized. So conclusion I very much like Seven/Janeway but only in a specific way which makes most content for it not really my thing..hEHEHE. The worst predicament.