Thank The Lord That TV Girl Aren't With Paramount Music Or Who Ever The Fuck Took Down Half The Music

Person: How many times have you watched Moon knight?

Me:

he makes me think many thoughts 👁️👄👁️

thanks to @happyk44’s text post for plaguing me with visions until i drew this

Beautiful hashtags

Thinkin’ about the soft, smug little expression Steven must’ve had under his mask when he adjusted his suit during the fight with Harrow.

Would’ve been a shame if we uh. Saw that.

“Oh look!” Karen said brightly, trying to pretend she didn’t feel a certain blind hand drifting south. “It’s a show about The Daredevil!” Matt didn’t miss a beat. “How boring,” he muttered, lips brushing the shell of her ear, while his fingers curved under the elastic of the shorts. “I’m much more entertained by your shorts, mmmh.” Karen snorted, squirming against his chest, though she didn’t exactly stop him. “Ah, you just want them back, considering they’re yours?” Frank, who’d been steadily leaning into her personal space like a heat-seeking missile, lost it. “Dude,” he barked, laughing, “you know they’re pink, right?!” Matt paused. Fingers still nestled where they really shouldn’t be during prime time television. “...I was not aware.” Karen burst into laughter, practically writhing between them now as Frank took the opportunity to press a kiss to her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck—one big arm snaking over her thighs, nudging them apart carefully. Matt’s hand didn’t stop, either. “Y’know what?” Frank growled low, mouth hot against Karen’s skin. “Fuck that guy.” “Which one?” Karen gasped, half-mad with laughter, half-mad with—well. Other things. “The Daredevil,” Frank grunted. Matt smirked against her shoulder. “Harsh.” “He’s a prick,” Frank added. “Acts like he’s blind but gets all the girls.” “I am blind.” “Oh my God shut up you two,” Karen snapped, voice cracking with heat and giggles as she was practically manhandled into a new position—her legs over Frank’s lap now, her chest still against Matt, both men touching her like they were in a race but forgot it wasn’t a competition. The TV was still droning on in the background. Something about justice and tight leather suits. Karen groaned and threw the remote across the room. “Justice can wait.”

🔥🔥🔥

Totally self-indulgent fanart that I needed to get OUT. Hope you like this one :D

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You can’t win as a woman in fiction. Be too positive, you become a Mary Sue, have flaws and those flaws are why almost nobody likes you. Be moderate, you have wet-cabbage personality, be exuberant, you are an unrealistic example. Have strong morals, and you’re badly developed, be morally corrupt and you’re hated with such vigour fans will send hate mail to the actress who plays the character. Be kind and soft and in love, you’re a representation of sexism, be cruel, harsh and cold and you’re just a bitch. Be a complex, realistic, ambiguous character, and either your flaws or your positive traits will be ignored or blown out of proportion and into oblivion. There is no winning for female characters.

I’ve already talked about the Marc Drooling Scene but. I just. I go insane over the way Marc loses his bodily functions here. He’s so drugged up he has to put in so much effort just to get up from the chair — only to hit the ground, hard. Drooling. Writhing on the floor. Stumbling all over himself. Pupils dilated and his eyes rolling back each time he has to get up. Legs like jelly. Forcing his body to move and it’s so hard, fuck, his whole body is weighed down from the sedation. Marc’s whimpers. The soft grunts. His feet getting all crossed as he tries to put distance between himself and Dr. Harrow. The “ungh..!” each time he falls. Single-minded in his goal to break out even though he can barely think through the drugged daze. How he attempts to put command into the first “no, you stay away from me” as he crawls away from Harrow. Then — the panic rising and actual desperation in his voice as he cries out “stay away from me!!” when Harrow continues trying to placate Marc, his tone intentionally gentle. Think about how terrifying this is for Marc to experience. To lose control of his body like this. To be at Harrow’s mercy. To be bodily and mentally falling apart like this with drugs in his system. So angry, so upset. A caged animal.