#why did i even write this

[xwinterwidowx]

i actually cried writing this so uh good luck-inspired by the repost from yesterday!!

tw: mentions of dying

Shadow and Sonic were standing in front of a balcony, looking out at the city in comfortable silence, when Shadow noticed something. A little gray quill in the middle of Sonic's.

"Hey," he said, reaching for it. "What's this?" he held it out and Sonic turned his head.

"Oh? I guess I'm getting older," Sonic snorts. Shadow's ears drooped slightly when he was hit with that reminder.

Sonic wasn't going to live forever. He was going to die someday. And Shadow would be all alone. Again. Sonic noticed how his ears drooped and his face softened. He put his paws on either side of Shadow's face.

"Hey... don't be like that, Shads. S'just a gray quill. I'm not that old yet," he tries to joke but Shadow's ears droop even more. "Hey, look at me." Shadow coaxes his face up.

"I don't want you to leave me," Shadow mumbles. He doesn't care about being needy or pathetic. He can't be alone again.

"I'm not gonna leave you, Shads. Not soon. It'll take you way longer to get rid of me."

"But someday you're..."

"Someday. It's not today, or tomorrow, or next week. We still have years together. And I'll stay by your side for all of them. I'm not leaving you, Shads." Shadow hugs him tightly and lets a small tear fall down his face. Sonic feels it instantly and looks up. "Oh, Shadow..." Sonic hugs him tighter, letting him feel that he was still there.

"You're going to be gone someday. And I'll have to live without you."

"Good things end, Shads."

"I don't want them to."

"Just close your eyes and pretend that we're young again. It feels the same when you close your eyes."

"What if I close my eyes and you're gone?" Shadow asks, hyperventilating.

"I won't be. Trust me. You can do that for me, can't you?" Shadow nods and closes his eyes.

"Are you still there?" he mumbles.

"Yep. I'm right here. I'll always be right here. You just have to look," Sonic mumbles softly, smoothing Shadow's quills back.

[m3hgumi]

— jjk characters and their college majors

a/n: this is highly unedited! literally just a bunch of brain dump (i will MAYBE write a more fleshed out version of their college lives in the future). for now, this is just for shits and giggles

itadori yuji

mmm i’m thinking kinesiology on the pre physical therapy track

or he’s a student athlete majoring in sports management or business

fushiguro megumi

a struggling pre-vet biochem major. that’s it that’s the fucking tweet.

nobara kugisaki

FASHION SCHOOL BAYBEE !!!

that or marketing

ok but fashion designer nobara … i live for it

zenin maki

this could take so many different directions tbh

engineering bc we love women in stem 💯 but also pre law

OK WHY NOT BOTH

civil/mech engineering on the pre law track. boom.

yuta okkotsu

elementary education! he just has the vibes 😭

inumaki toge

hmmm digital arts or cs bc zero human interaction (this is a lie) and he also canonically hates showering! (anyone remember that one juju sanpo ep)

gojo satoru

ASTROPHYSICS or math education

geto suguru

our little philosophy + literature double major on the pre law track (save him)

nanami kento

finance snake ?!?!? tbh probably accounting tho (the least frat boy snake vibes type of major ever)

panda (really now?)

zoology. (i wonder why 🤭)

© m3hgumi 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or repost my works anywhere

[missamateur]

Wrote this and decided I want to post this here :D

hopefully you guys like it!

Lyrics:

Happy birthday to you

To you, who will never love me back

To you, to you, who won’t feel the same I do

I just wanna say before you turn and fade to black

Happy birthday I love you…

[goatsandpals]

Hey what if the reverse au of the owl house was exactly the same, except for the fact that Hooty’s a duck. Like all the characters are normal and look the same, but Hooty’s a duck?

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[akaittou]

I'm drunk so prepare for a completely unneeded breakdown as to why I think only one answer is even possible:

age gap.... what age gap, they're both maiar

power difference.... what power difference, they're both maiar

incestuous.... by that logic anything between any two elves or any two humans or any two dwarves would be incestuous as well, what??? it's a classification, not a family. even if you wanted to claim all ainur are related you'd then have to consider every single couple among the valar incestuous as well

insensitive to dwarves... how? they're not involved. they're the ones who woke Durin's Bane up in the first place, just because you have beef with someone doesn't mean them finding romance is insensitive towards you

rarepair

try to label monsterfucking problematic i dare you

saruman woobification is a real problem, he's a grown ass maia who made his own decisions and messed up his own chances

not even gracing this with a comment

afaik any woman even remotely involved with either participant is either alive and well, not interested, living her best life in valinor or a combination of all three

fetishisation.... honestly yeah when it's worded like this. balrog is a type of being, not a specific being. they have a name. use it.

we're really just going ahead and assigning maiar genders based on mortal values and then assuming orientations leaning on those apply. maiar can present themselves as anything they like, though their physical forms are difficult to adjust outside the far west - gandalf looks like an old man because that shape was chosen to be the most likely to serve their task, same as the other wizards, not because it's the one they 100% present as - and Durin's Bane didn't even get to choose theirs - balrogs having been shaped by the will and wishes of morgoth. So how do you know the ship is gay at all?

Related previous scholarship on the topic.

[all-my-ocs-are-evil]

[insert poetic title here]

fun fact: this did not start out as isat fanart

(rambling in tags)

[whateveriwant]

I have this one very specific headcanon that Simon is naturally left-handed.

From the moment his little infant consciousness kicked in and he realized he could grab things and bring them to his tiny slobbery mouth, Simon was instinctively reaching with his left hand. But as he got older, for some reason or another, he lost his left-handedness. Well, “lost” is the nicer way of putting it; the truth was he rejected it.

Maybe it was because he was being bullied at school or, hell, maybe he was being harassed by his own father because of it. Whatever the reason, when he was still a boy, Simon forced himself to use his right hand until it became second nature to him.

So now fast forward 30-odd years to where Simon is now a grown adult. He’s got a good job, a nice house, a loving partner…

And, wouldn’t you know it, he’s got a kid who’s left-handed.

Well, let me tell you, the moment Simon realized his kid seemed to favor their left hand over their right, he literally started to weep. But he didn’t cry out of sadness or frustration. Though, it wasn’t out of sheer happiness either.

To be honest, Simon wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling at that moment. Pride? Envy? Catharsis after experiencing a lifetime of people being cruel over the most trivial of reasons?

Either way, you can bet your ass Simon immediately bought his kiddo any and every left-handed-specific gadget that was out there. Left-handed scissors, left-handed notebooks, left-handed can openers.

Why does a toddler need a can opener? Who cares! The point is that Simon knows just how hard it is to be a leftie in a rightie’s world. So if he can do something to make his kid’s life a little easier – to make the world a more forgiving place than the one he grew up in – he will do that with zero hesitation.

[gensokyo-in-unreality]

Here's where to read the (bad) fic

It's becoming more like a visual novel after Reimu's Stage 5... oh well, too lazy to rewrite the first few chapters.

[notavoyeur]

No one asked for this, but Imma tell y'all what I think anyway...

8472 - Not sure how this would work, but I'd be down to try

Horta - Call me a coward, but I don't want my dick melted off. I salute you, brave Horta fuckers

Trill - I was a no on this, but then I thought; could I do it in the lighting pools? Now I almost want to change my answer

Salt Vampire - Easily the sexiest option on this list. Also the one most likely to kill you. Hard pass for me, but I understand the appeal

Caretaker - It was only now that I learn that "sporocyst" isn't just a technobabble word the writers made up. Turns out our Banjo Man is a mushroom. Smash

The Borg - Sexy, but I'd have to be assimilated to do it. I don't even like needles, so you can imagine how I feel about assimilation tubules

Changling - This was my choice. I'm wilth Lwaxana (although hard pass on Odo himself. I'd rather my date not turn into a cop after)

Crystaline Entity - If you can tell me HOW, I'll consider it

Xindi - I'm not sure how sexy a scuba suit would be, but I'll give it a shot. They DO have those arms...

10C - This sex would be crazy, although I admit, I'd like to get a better look at them than Disco offered before I say one way or the other

Medusan - Get me a blindfold and baby let's go

[soranker]

my girlfriend

[breadstick4breakfast]

i want to be a d&d druid thats just always in wildshape as a cat and is, in turn, unable to speak common but also a cat so there are other ways to talk to me because cat and i would be a little gay lover boy with all the other cats and all the party members would see me come to the camp with another gay cat boyfriend and they would try to translate "why u such a gay little cat boy" but it would just come across as "why gay" and i would just roll over with my gay cat boyfriend and we would steal from all the other party members because they had a bit of meat-based consumables on their plate and gay cat druid

[reineydraws]

✨️ BROTHERS! ✨️

(shouto will live out his idle childhood daydreams, even if he has to reverse their roles himself haha)

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i literally do not care about big emergencies on abc's 911. i want to see my characters talk to each other and have stories that are parallels to small, everyday (everyday for first responders) emergencies

[rosedproblems]

Tumblr please for the love of god, find étoile. I just know you’ll all be swooning over Tobias and loving Cheyanne just like I have. Please, I’m not a content creator and I need content. Help a girl out

[captainpriceslilwife]

little thing with John Price that goes from angst to smut to angst again and then fluff and back to smut....pretty much checked all the boxes here i think. okay yay <3 also ill be honest...idk if i like how this turned out, but.....here it is *serves up half-eaten charcuterie board made from lunchables*

Basically Price is using your daddy kink as a trojan horse to rewrite your neural pathways <3 but like...with love Shoutout @coco-killed-the-angels for implanting these worms (insecure girl x price) into my brain <333 CW: deep insecurities (bc i'm the one writing it, so...it's a given), daddy kink, crying, praise kink (?) - does it count if he's just praising you in a sexual setting and its not necessarily a kink idk, if you're allergic to true, deep love and you just want smut this is not the work for you, not DDLG but like...the cousin of it. Or sibling. DDLG adjacent.

Your day had started off rough.

Well, the whole week, really. With deadlines and headaches looming over your head, it's no wonder that you ended up in such a state this morning.

You were just barely fighting the childish urge to just whack the brush over your head, so you tried to move on to putting your makeup. Which only ended in you crying in frustration when it started to cake up, and then you began crying even harder when your tears started making the rest of it slide off of your face.

"So fucking stupid." You had whispered under your breath as your shaky hands wiped at your face in a sorry attempt to fix everything - only to make it worse.

That's how John found you in the bathroom, furiously scrubbing at your face with a towel to wipe everything off as you sobbed quietly to yourself.

"Woah, woah, woah...sweetheart." His hands are quick to wrap around yours to halt your movements, and you try to bow your head to avoid his gaze, but he tilts his head right alongside you. "What's all this, huh? What's wrong, sweet girl?"

And he tries his hardest to comfort you, he really does, but you're just so lost in your anguish that you blow up in his face the moment he suggests you be gentle with yourself.

"No! I have to wear makeup today because my face is breaking out and I look ugly, b-but I keep ruining it because I'm crying! God, I can't do anything without ruining it!"

Maybe you were just hormonal or about to get your period, but it didn't matter. Your insecurities sound the same no matter what chemical is bouncing around in your brain to cause it.

Which is how you ended up here - on your hands and knees on the bed, facing the mirror on the dresser with John's cock nestled deep inside of you.

He had already been working you up for hours, teasing and licking and fingering you until you could barely hold yourself up - which explains why he's got one hand curled at the base of your skull to hold your head up by your hair to force you to watch as he fucks you.

But he's not even fucking you. He's just...sitting inside of you. Not moving. Making you whine and whimper as he stares at you through the smudged reflection of the mirror. You plead with him quietly, fresh tears blooming to wash away the dried tracks from your earlier malaise, but he just shakes his head and pulls your hair back a bit more.

"I already told you what to do, sweetheart. Go on." But you just blink at him dumbly with those teary eyes, too far gone to remember how you got here, let alone what he just said five seconds ago. But that's alright - if war taught him anything, it was how to be patient. Especially with a soft thing like you.

"Daddy's not moving until you say something you like about yourself."

Oh, right. That.

You had kind of been hoping he would just fuck your brains out so you could ignore your little meltdown earlier and forget it ever happened - but clearly John had different plans.

"I don't want to."

Brat.

Even when you were trembling beneath him and begging him to fuck you, you still had the nerve to talk back to him. But John knows you well enough to know that you aren't acting out just for the fun of it. So, he isn't going to punish you now. You're upset, and insecure, and you just want him to take it all away so you don't have to think about it.

Which is exactly what he's doing - even if you can't see it from where you are mentally. He's just playing the long game.

"One thing, baby." He murmurs in your ear, locking eyes with you in the mirror as he curls himself over your back to press his hairy chest into you, making you mewl softly. "Just say one little thing you like about yourself, and Daddy will fuck you, just like you want. I promise."

And you poor thing - you're just so desperate. You're cunt is leaking around his cock and no matter how much you try to rock your hips back to get some kind of friction, he's holding you too tight to make any real progress.

So you give up. Or give in. Either way, you decide to just let go and think of something - if only just to get him to pound you into the mattress the way you wanted.

But when you looked at yourself in the mirror - all puffy eyes, splotchy cheeks, and tangled hair - all you could see is what you didn't like.

Every bump, every scar, every part that's too much, and every part that's not enough. Suddenly every mean voice in your head has a stage - telling you about all the times you failed and how you aren't worthy of anything good in this world. Ugly, stupid, worthless, annoying-

There's nothing you can think of, even to just throw out meaninglessly to get him to hop off your case. Nothing.

And all you can do is choke out a pathetic sob - lower lip trembling violently as you squeeze your eyes shut to block out the mean voices circling around in your head. "Daddy, I can't...I c-can't think of anything."

He had expected a bit of resistance from you, but the way your face crumpled so sadly at the prospect of complimenting yourself made his heart ache in his chest. Clearly your insecurities were running deeper than surface-level, and he'd have his fair share of work cut out for him if he wanted to make you feel better.

"Shh, hey, hey, hey. It's okay." He coos softly, removing his hand from your hair to curl it around you to rest it against your sternum. He sits back against the bed and takes you right along with him, planting you on his lap with your back pressed against his chest - with his cock still inside of you. You're grateful for it, since you know you'd just spiral even more if he took it out and left you feeling empty and cold while you were already on the verge of a complete breakdown. "Daddy can help. I'll help you out, sweetheart."

"We can think of things together, my love. It's okay." He murmurs quietly as he wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth slightly as he gently hushes your tears. His thumb comes up to wipe away the fresh tears that slip down your cheeks, and he can feel his heart cracking in two at every little heartbroken whimper and sob that manages to escape your lips.

"What about your pretty eyes, hm? The ones that help you read all of those books, even when it's a little dark? The same eyes Daddy loves to wake up to every morning?"

You blink owlishly through your tears, your hiccups coming to a halt for just a second as you begin to process his words. He's not talking about the color of your eyes or what shape they are, but what they can do. You've been so caught up on how every part of you looked...not what they were actually meant for.

Your eyes aren't supposed to be the prettiest color or the 'perfect' shape. They're job is to help you see. And you can read, and admire the sunset, and cry, and watch TV - and none of it has to do with how your eyes look. They're the same eyes that lock onto John's from across the room and tell him 'it's too much. can we go home?' without ever having to say a word. And he always knows how you're feeling, just from taking one look at your eyes.

"And what about your hair? Don't you like braiding it and putting it up in all those pretty hairstyles? Don't you like how Daddy can play with it when you get all sleepy?" You turn your head around to look at him through your tears, and you take in a shaky breath as you nod your head silently in agreement. "Yeah...I know I like it, sweet girl."

You let out a restrained whimper as his words settle over you, your heart cracking in a way that it never has before - like its rearranging itself to fit the beautiful image of his perception of you. You can feel his hand gently squeeze your arm to silently urge you to continue on your own, and it takes you a minute to think of something before you let out a trembling whisper.

"M-My nose..." You sound uncertain, blinking up at him for validation only to be met with a loving smile and an encouraging nod. "I like my nose."

Your nose was never meant to look like everyone else's. It's just there to help you breathe. To bring oxygen to your blood to keep you alive and healthy. And it helps you smell everything - the bread at the farmers market, John's cologne bottle whenever you missed him too much in his missions, even the gross candles at the store that you force John to smell too just so you can both suffer together. It even crinkles up whenever John presses a kiss to it when you aren't expecting it, which always makes him laugh and makes him press just one more to it to get you to giggle and swat him away.

"Yes...good girl." He praises softly as he presses a line of kisses along your shoulder, reverent in both his touch and stare as he tilts your chin back towards the mirror. "Keep looking at yourself, darling."

"And Daddy loves your beautiful smile...you know, that's the first thing I miss when I go away. I keep a little picture of you in my vest just so I can see it even when I'm on my missions. I love seeing my gorgeous girl look so happy." His words coax another watery sob from you, which he quickly soothes by running his hands gently up and down your arms. Eventually he trails them down and circles his hands around yours, using his thumbs to massage gentle circles into your palms as you cast your gaze down to watch. "And your hands...didn't you bake me those cookies last week with these hands?"

"Yes, Daddy." You nod once again, and he brings both of your hands up to wipe at the tears that are dripping off of your cheeks and down to your torso.

Your body let you express your love for him in all the ways you wanted - hugging, kissing, cuddling, crying, laughing, talking, listening, touching - you could go on forever now that you're really thinking about it.

Your body was a vessel for love - a home that could fit all the adoration and affection that John could possibly give you and you could give him - and instead you were using it to house all of the shame everyone else had burdened you with over the years. But John had all the patience in the world, and if he had to pick that shame out piece-by-piece in order to burrow his love inside of you, then that's what he'd do. Happily.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty...such a pretty little girl you are." He punctuates every one of his words with a kiss to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your hair...all until he reaches your ear when he finally whispers, "I'm so lucky to have you, baby."

And you poor thing - now your blubbering in his lap as your brain tries to comprehend the sheer amount of love he's pouring into you, and he just continues to hold you patiently as you work through it. It's only when you finally calm down a bit that he speaks up.

"I think you're so beautiful, my love. Inside and out. But if you look in the mirror and you don't like what you're seeing, for whatever silly reason, I want you to remember that your worth comes from a lot more than how you look. Do you understand, baby?" He waits until you nod your head before he plants a kiss right to the crown of your hair. You can feel his hand settle on your thigh, thumbing the sensitive inner skin as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.

"Do you want to keep going?" And then you see it - settled underneath his love and admiration for you is a spark of concern. He doesn't want to push you too hard, especially in a delicate setting like this. His cock is still hard and nestled deep inside of you, but you know if you said the word right now he'd end this all in a heartbeat to make sure you were comfortable and taken care of.

But you don't want him to stop. It feels different this time around - like it's not just sex. It's something more ritualistic than that. So you nod your head once more, making sure to keep your eyes on him in the mirror so he can see how earnest you are.

And slowly, carefully, he readjusts you back into the position you were in before - on your hands and knees facing the mirror. And you can see him watching you closely for any sign of discomfort or regret, but all he's met with is trust in those teary eyes of yours.

"Keep telling me what you like, sweetheart."

And so you do. Clumsy compliments stumbling out of your mouth as he finally starts to rock his hips, granting you the relief you've been craving from him for what feels like forever now. And the more you praise yourself, the more intense his thrusts get - but he never turns rough. Not even for a second. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he whispers his own devotions into your ears, pushing himself as deep as he can as if he's trying to plant the words directly inside of you.

You're so overwhelmed by the love and the pleasure he's giving you that you barely even realize how fast your orgasm is sneaking up on you, but he notices. He can feel you clenching around him as your thighs begin to shake, and he doesn't waste a second in gently guiding your gaze to look at yourself in the mirror once more.

"Are you a pretty girl, baby?" He grunts softly, barely staving off his own release long enough to drive his message home. You begin to nod your head frantically, too caught up in your impending climax to form any coherent sentences as you begin to flutter around him - but he's not having any of it.

"Yeah? Go on, then. Daddy wants to hear you say it."

"I-I'm a..." Your stuttered words are cut off by a deep moan, and your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you clamp down around him. "I'm a p-pretty girl!"

And then you're sent into the most mind-shattering orgasm you've ever had in your life. You can feel yourself gush around him and you hear his restrained curses as you collapse into the bed, but even your own voice sounds muffled as you call out his name with a quivering cry. He fucks you right through it, leaving you trembling and crying from the intensity as he finally spills inside of you with a few tears of his own.

He just barely catches himself before he collapses on top of you, and it takes him a minute to catch his breath before he readjusts to, very carefully, pull himself out of your squelching cunt. He coos gently as you whine at the loss of contact, and he scoops you up like you're a porcelain doll that'll shatter if he's not careful.

You're still so fuzzy from the intensity of it all, but he places you in his lap to let you bury your face in his neck, and his arms quickly wrap around you the second that your trembling form curls up to him like a kitten in a storm.

"There she is." He whispers softly as he kisses your forehead, one hand trailing up and down your back as the other one circles tightly around your shoulders to ground you with his presence. "There you go, sweet girl. Take a deep breath, my love."

He can feel the little puffs of air hitting his neck as he continues to hold you, and it brings him back down to earth as well as he works you through your comedown. Soft whispers of praise graze your ear as he moves to clean you up, keeping his movements soft and careful when he sees your eyes begin to flutter shut.

And you look up at him with so much love and trust when he finally pulls you down to lay back against the pillows, he can't stop himself from taking a moment to brush at the soft skin of your cheek before he presses his lips against yours. It's not hungry or lustful - just pure love being poured into you as he pulls the covers up to cover your bare form.

He pulls back just enough to murmur quietly against your lips, eyes looking down at you with so much reverance it makes your head spin.

"I love you so much, baby."

And you can't help the little wobble in your lips or the glassiness in your eyes as you rest your head against the pillow, pulling him closer with your shaky hands as you plant a little kiss on his lips.

"I love you, too, Daddy."