#very confusing to say the least

[technically-human]

Dying here at the idea of Stone fetching the doctor.

Rob: Stone?! What are you- *gags as Stone grabs his collar and begins to drag him away*

Stone: You. Me. Home. NOW!

*Robotnik is too speechless but a blush appears as he realizes his agent missed him*

Living the fantasy I guess

ko-fi

[sonknuxadow]

its so frustrating how a lot of scu fans cant handle other sonic fans not having the exact same taste in sonic media that they do. like i feel like you can say something negative about literally any other sonic media on here and people generally wouldnt care that much but the second you say anything less than positive about the movies people start getting all weird about it and trying to argue with you ive had it happen to me and seen it happen to others as well .... like the sonic franchise is very big and has many different media types and writing styles not everyone is going to uncritically love everything. get over it ? im not trying to be mean but idk what else to tell you

[arrowheadedbitch]

Konner runs into Tim's room and starts yelling at him for committing atrocities and "how could you do this! What happened to your code! There were civilians there! I thought I knew you!" Yknow, the works. And Tim's like

What are you talking about

And Conner gets all angrier and he's yelling at tim and stuff

And then tim just kinda sighs and pulls a little whiteboard out of his desk that has "Days since an evil version of myself has fucked shit up" or something like that and he erases the number under and puts 0 and is just like "Okay, let's go" super unenthusiastically . He sounds so tired and done with it.

[hell0mega]

I'm realizing that all of my otps are the ones that everyone agrees, and have agreed for decades, including the people who write/star in the damn thing, that they are so in gay love with each other, but because of general homophobia it just will never canonically happen. Sherlock and Watson. Kirk and Spock. Steve and Bucky. Frodo and Sam. all the ships where the writing and the narrative and the acting all create flashing neon signs that say LOVE STORY (GAY) pointed at their heads, the ones where even nonfandom normies can pick up on it, bring it up in interviews, make parodies of it. those are the ones i go insane over, because could you imagine. think about what we could've had if not for bigotry. if not for companies worried about not making as much money because of that bigotry. it makes me weep.

[flickeringquip]

Convince the Fighter abstinence is bad for his health. There may be consequences(?) <<

A text continuation of this post, feat. @thedolmainblog's Blythe (shamelessly self-indulgent smut below the cut)

Your lips meet Blythe's a bit more forcefully than you intended, but you don't let that slow you down. You take advantage of his gasp to swipe your tongue against his own, hoping to entice him into responding.

Your knuckles turn white as your grip tightens on his shirt; you don't have a back-up plan to speak of, and frankly you're not sure you'd ever be able to look him in the eyes again if he shoves you away—

(1) And then he does move, but it's certainly not away.

In what feels like barely a few blinks, you find your positions almost completely reversed. You hear wood crack as it's kicked out of the way and internally thank your trusty crate for its service—

A firm thigh pushes between your own as warm hands slide over your ass with a squeeze, and then you get a taste of your own medicine as it's your gasp that's taken advantage of, this time.

(1) You don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't quite this.

This being how you're pinned firmly to the concrete wall behind you, weight supported by the leg slotted between your own and the hands on your ass as every shift and squirm finds you inadvertently grinding down against Blythe's thigh — and making the most dreadfully embarrassing little noises that are only mostly muffled by the Fighter's own lips against your own.

Already you can feel the desire pulsing in your middle, can feel the heat building between your thighs with each of your little shifts and squirms, each squeeze of Blythe's hands as he kisses you like a man possessed.

(1) It's only when you break the kiss, feeling like you can't quite get enough air, that his attention shifts.

Those same lips trail down to your throat as his hands slide up to take a firmer hold of your hips — and this time there's nothing to muffle the moan that startles out of you when he sucks a bruising mark over your pulse and grinds you down harder against his thighs.

His echoing groan rumbles through you like a physical touch, tension winding hot and fast in your middle as Blythe guides your hips into a rolling rhythm against his leg — and fuck if the easy way he moves you doesn't make you burn all the hotter.

You lose a bit of time, then, losing yourself in the all-consuming onslaught of his affections. It's dizzying, overwhelming, and leaves you utterly unable to focus on anything other than him—

(1) Which leaves you caught entirely off-guard when you suddenly find yourself only scant seconds away from cumming.

"Blythe—" Your fingers fist tighter into his shirt, the only part of your positions that has remained the same, a shivery note to your voice you're unfamiliar with as your thighs squeeze around his own, not even aware of the faint quiver working its way down your spine, "W-wait a sec, I, I'm—"

Blythe, who most certainly did notice your little tremble, the way your breath begins to catch in your throat, the heat he can feel through both of your trousers—

"Cum," The order is as demanding as it is desperate, all but growled into your ear as he presses even closer, tilting your hips until the next roll of them has you loosing a stuttered cry, every inch of you going taut as a bowstring in his grasp, "Aster, cum."

(1) And really, what can you do but listen?

Pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave, and you're only dimly aware of the lips slanting over yours to muffle noises you hadn't even realized you could make. Your body moves of its own volition, hips rocking jerkily against Blythe's thigh as you ride out your orgasm with mindless intent until you're finally spent.

You collapse against the Fighter's chest like a puppet with her strings cut, trembling all over as you try and catch your breath in the wake of such unexpected intensity. Just above you, Blythe makes a noise that nearly sounds pained, and it's jarring enough to have you lifting your cheek from his collar to peer up at him in somewhat bleary concern—

And then you're being moved again, faintly trembling hands no less strong as they hoist your legs up around his waist. You can't help but fidget, and Blythe responds by taking another half-step closer, leaving you pinned flush between him and the wall — and entirely unable to miss the firm bulge that grinds into your still-sensitive sex, hot enough to make you whine even through the layers of cloth between the two of you.

(1) "Again."

Time blurs again. You try to cling to your composure, but it's a battle you lose laughably quick when every rock of Blythe's hips sends frissons of heat shocking through you. The high-pitched little noises - nearly mewls - have you flushing bright enough to rival your hair, but it's blessedly easy to ignore, because—

Blythe seems fixated on wringing another orgasm from you just like this, grinding into you with laser-focused intensity, adapting real time to what pulls the best noises from you. Normally you'd feel a little bad at your lack of participation, but honestly it's all you can do to hang on for the ride, what with how determined the Fighter is on driving pesky little things like thoughts out of your head.

(1) Your next orgasm leaves you twice as breathless and shaky as the last, and you only just catch the muttering coming from above you.

"Not here, not here," Blythe all but chants the words, and the fingers flexing against your hips are your only warning before you find yourself plucked away from the wall, arms slipping instinctively around his neck as Blythe walks with a single-minded focus to. . . Somewhere? You get your answer when you find yourself set gently down upon a leather seat. It's Blythe's motorcycle; you've seen him on it a handful of times, but you've never been on one before. He hands you a helmet, waiting a little impatiently for you to put it on, and you're in enough of a daze from your unexpected - and successive - climaxes that you do so without even really thinking about it. He tightens it for you before getting on himself, reaching back to pull your arms around his waist, guiding you grab your opposite wrists before looking over his shoulder with a look caught somewhere between stern and feverish. "Hang on tight." (1) Why did no one tell you motorcycles vibrated so much?

End of Pt. 1(?)

[daily-hanamura]

[bananafishdepression]

Apparently Yoshida Akimi fell into depression or something so she speed-ran some of last volumes of Banana Fish manga and it shows, everybody had the same face and an ugly one on top of that, and honestly I'd be depressed if I had to write a story like that for 10 years and make the most likable characters suffer the most 💀

[clegfly]

‘Nother IHX IVPJMKEL wip… dialogue sprites!!!!!!! This lil’ fella is called BAKQ :))) theyre not really sure who they are or why they exist, but they know that IHX IVPJMKEL has the answers they seek somewhere!!!

[gingermintpepper]

I did, in fact, doodle some FOM! Hyacinths!!

He's much better at ranching than growing crops and he's definitely the sort to get each of his lambs a bonnet after they're born. (He planted a cherry tree in front his house at least. He'll figure out actually tilling and working the land next season,,,, probably)

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

all i'm saying is that i think sanremo should happen every month

[indelicateink]

oh god i am so--uncertain

i want to be delighted for the promo, the ostensible commitment. because. i mean--for one min setting aside the very real other issues going on--it's the goddamn TVL. and i know SR, the cast, the crew--THEY will give 5000%

but historically. historically this is the shit-the-bed network in terms of promo. s2's two-pixel laptop press interviews. the dire lack of s2 promotion on the scale it deserved. and our excuse was Small Network. so...aha. is the third time the charm, or do i manage my expectations. is this over-promising. bc i am nervous how polished they can make this

hold me

[tennessoui]

Anakin: I have a bad feeling in my stomach when I talk to this incredibly handsome man with pretty eyes and nice hair and a nice voice

Anakin: obviously he is a supervillain

superhero anakin is actually incredibly based for this i hate what having a crush does to me. all my crushes have been supervillains in disguise with the potential to be absolutely life-ruining

[cerealmonster15]

do u ever look at someone in ur notifs and sit there for a while trying to remember like. u dont follow them but u kinda coulda sworn maybe u were mutuals but ur not SURE, like maybe you are just used to seeing them in ur notifs a lot or u follow someone else who follows them so u see their posts sometimes. but then theres also the chance u maybe were following but u accidentally unfollowed them [something that seems 2 happen fairly often here on tumblr dot com for some reason lol] and ur like hmmm what if i accidentally unfollowed them and i just dont Remember. but also what if i wasnt ever following them. what if i looked at their blog and decided i didnt want to follow them and then forgot that i did that.

[momowoah]

The hardest part of reading the wot books is trying to keep track of who knows what, especially considering I know a lot of things I wasn't supposed to know this early on and there's a lot of information that only a few characters know and the rest don't. I keep having to try to remember whether or not a particular character has been made aware of a certain information or whether they only suspect it or whether they have no idea at all and it's getting to the point I'm considering making a list of who knows what lmao.

[frenchfrywrites]

Day 17

Double Penetration

MINORS DNI

Warnings: amab soft dom bottom masc reader, Sub top Cater, double penetration, reader referred to as "sir", Cater's signature spell (he fucks with his clone), lil orgasm denial, lil pain play

"Ah," you sigh softly as you settle down in Cater's lap, his cock nestled deep inside your hole, filling you nicely. You could have him like this, and be satisfied, but both of you want more tonight. Glancing over your shoulder, you meet the heavy gaze of Clone Cater.

"Are you ready to join us, love?" you ask.

"Yes please, sir," the Clone Cater stumbles out of the chair from where he'd been watching you from, joining the two of you on the bed.

Original Cater has his eyes shut tight, trying to keep his breathing controlled and slow. His arms are wrapped around your waist, clinging to you tightly. You nearly let him fuck you (it could be fun to make his clone wait and watch), just because he looks so cute trying so hard not to. Fondly, you remind yourself he'll be rewarded for his patience.

The Clone Cater makes himself comfortable behind you, taking the lube from where you dropped it on the bed, and slicking up his fingers.

"Good boy, there we go," you hum as he presses them into your hole, rubbing against Original Cater's cock. Cater gasps at the sensation, and tightens his hold around you. The feeling of his fingers stretching you open around Original Cater's cock makes your own dick throb and leak as you imagine what it'll feel like to be so full.

Clone Cater makes quick work of stretching you open, and you know it's because he's eager to slide himself inside of you.

"Can I fuck you now, please sir?" Clone Cater begs sweetly, rutting himself impatiently against your ass.

"Yeah," you moan, your nerves tingling with anticipation, "I'm ready." Clone Cater wastes absolutely no time with sliding his fingers out, and lining himself up with your filled hole.

You run your fingers through Original Cater's hair, distracting yourself from the uncomfortable stretch that is about to come. He preens under the attention, his green eyes fluttering open to look at you adoringly.

Clone Cater slowly, but surely, presses himself inside of you, rubbing alongside himself, and causing Original Cater to whine.

You tug on Cater's hair when the stretch teeters on painful. He nuzzles into your touch, however rough it may be, and though it's faint, you think you can feel his cock twitch inside you.

"Feeling okay?" you ask Original Cater, who is panting into your skin. He takes a deep breath, and tightens his grip around you, trying to steady himself.

"Yeah," he whines, "I- uh-" he gasps when his clone presses deeper into you, rubbing against his cock, "I should be asking you that."

Overwhelmed with affection, you lean down to capture his lips. Clone Cater must figure this is the perfect time to thrust the last few centimeters of his length into you, because that's exactly what he does. You and Original Cater both moan at the action, mouths still pressed against one another in what barely passes as a kiss.

"Fuck," you sigh, pulling away to lean back against Clone Cater's chest. Part of you wants to wrap a hand around your weeping cock, but you know that you're already so worked up, that doing so would cause everything to end far too quickly.

"You feel so good," Clone Cater moans, holding onto your hips tightly.

They're trying to behave for you, mostly keeping their hips still, letting you adjust. It takes a good minute, as the stretch is almost unbearably uncomfortable at first. Slowly, you relax, the pain and discomfort eases away, and arousal sinks deep into your loins. Shakily, you raise your hips, then sink back down onto their lengths. Both moan at the feeling.

"Move," you finally command, and they don't need to be told twice. Original Cater is the first to move, and he jerks his hips quickly into you. He can't help it, being on the edge for so long. He's never been good at cockwarming.

You toss your head back as Clone Cater begins to move his hips, joining his original. As soon as Cater pulls back, his clone pushes forward, never leaving you empty. You feel so full, their cocks rubbing against every nerve inside of you. It's better than you could have ever imagined.

"Ahh, gonna cum, hah, wanna cum, oh can I?" Cater asks you, fucking you like an animal in heat, and giving you the puppy eyes to match.

You reach out, taking his hair into your hands, and tugging him close to you.

"Already?" Clone Cater teases, cutting off your attempt to grant permission. Cater whines, hiding his blushing face in your chest. He's pressed so close to you now; your cock rubs against his stomach.

"I think you should- ah- wait until sir has cum," Clone Cater suggests, angling his hips to press even further within you. You gasp, clinging to Cater as his clone fucks you hard and deep. Luck is on Cater's side if he has to wait for you, for you can feel your own orgasm quickly approaching.

"Can't," is all Cater whines pitifully. Looking at his clone with watery eyes.

"Wait," Clone Cater insists, "ah, cum when I do," he cups Cater's face with a hand, then leans in to kiss him. That's what pulls you over the edge. Your vision whites, and you clench like a vice around their dicks, letting your weight fall back against Clone Cater. You barely register it in the moment, but Cater ignores his orders and follows seconds after you, cumming inside as he gasps your name against his clone's lips.

Clone Cater, for all his talk about waiting, cums soon after Cater. He's whiny and clingy as he fucks you through his orgasm.

Overstimulation hits you hard and fast. Suddenly the stretch is too much, and you let out a pained whine. As Cater helps you off his lap and onto the bed, all you can think about is how exhausted, sore, sticky, and euphoric you feel to be loved by him.

[itspileofgoodthings]

okay but just thinking about how dark it is that Anthony’s kind of ultimate fantasy isn’t marrying Kate —it’s being married to her sister while lusting after Kate, his honor about to SNAP