#Sonic needs and intervention

[smileyjart]

The council will see you now.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Between Sonic and Tails, who do you think would end up confessing their feelings first?

Good question. Definitely depends upon the iteration and context, but for the most part (at least in my head) getting either of them to confess (and in some cases even ruminate on their feelings and admit to themselves the nature of them) is hard

Like, for example, I personally think that game!Sonic (and post sgw Archie Sonic and IDW Sonic) kind of take Tails' presence for granted in a way. To them, it will always be the two of them (Sonic and Tails). The ideal future is that they keep on hanging out and still fight side by side sometimes and that even if Sonic goes it alone he can always come back from his adventures to chill with Tails or crash at his place. In other words, in Sonic's fantasies of the future, things like getting married or raising families or anything like that are just kind of tacked on as something that will just kind of be true at best and ignored at worst. If he even considers a future where things are a bit different because Tails is together™ with someone, to him it's only natural that Tails would be in his life the same way and nothing would really change. And so to that end, even if Sonic DOES realize his own feelings, he probably wouldn't see any good reason to confess. It would make things more complicated, especially if Tails doesn't share those feelings, and he doesn't have to worry anyways because Tails will always prioritize the two of them and be at his side, right?

And then it's even worse for versions of Sonic more akin to, say, pre sgw Archie Sonic. This is because in addition to the already existing unwillingness to change things and the assumption that he doesn't ever have to worry about no longer being the center of Tails' world (or a major figure in it at least), there is some palpable internalized homophobia within that hedgehog with an added complexity. For Archie Sonic in particular, I think even if he realized that he wanted to even be with Tails forever in a strictly non brothers fashion, he would feel mixed feelings about that (perhaps that coming out about it would ruin things or make things weird, or that getting together with Tails at any point would deprive him of "normalcy", or that he'd pressured Tails into it, or even just weird or a bit creepy).

As for Tails, I actually think that most iterations of him have figured their feelings out by this point. In all honesty, there's only so long you can go on fixating on someone and admiring them, and structuring your life around them before you realize your "I want to be with them" isn't just about simply admiring them. It's just that Tails' main obstacle to me is the avoidance of ruining anything.

On one hand, there's Sonic's avoidance to being tied down. We've seen time and time again Sonic rejecting people who pursue him openly or looking uncomfortable with them. Archie Sonic in particular made it clear that this version of Sonic couldn't stand the idea of not being able to freely be himself or adventure. He couldn't stand the idea of having to tie himself down and taking on extra responsibilities and expectations simply because he's with someone. I can see Tails being afraid that by confessing, he could scare Sonic away. If he happened to confess and Sonic thought Tails meant to stifle him or Sonic felt uncomfortable by that open expression, wouldn't that risk their relationship? Even if Sonic wouldn't go so far as to drop him as a best friend (which he never would do that for the record), there's still real fear in making things weird or different between himself and Sonic.

And that feeds right into the other hand. On the other hand, Sonic probably doesn't see him that way, right? Though Sonic is special to him and Sonic also cares for him back, at best Sonic has never thought about it and never will, or he just wouldn't feel the same (in Tails' eyes). With Archie Tails in particular, even if Tails gets over his own interlized homophobia about it and recognizes his feelings for what they are, he probably feels that there's no way to be anything different than a brother to Sonic, and thus confessing would be a terrible move. If Tails confesses and Sonic doesn't feel the same, it also runs the risk of making things weird between them or (in Tails' eyes) ruining it.

All this to say that my general opinion is that as long as things stay exactly the way they are forever, even if they start spending even more time together, I find it hard to believe either of the two will opt into confessing on purpose

But, with that being said, a confession is not an impossibility. I don't think either of the two are immune to being put in a position where they finally confess (and no, with the state of things for them, simply saying "I love you" will not count as a confession). And if we barred situations where like. They're literally about to die or one can do anything they like without the other (or themselves) remembering the outcome, I actually can give you an answer

And honestly, if one of them had to confess eventually, I believe it would probably end up being Sonic.

Why? Well, out of the two, Tails actually sits back and thinks about his emotions more often than not. I think even before he figured out the exact nature of his feelings he knew he felt very strongly for Sonic. But, no matter which media you're touching upon, I feel as if Tails fits into that archetype of "person who has been in love with their best friend since literally forever, but knows their best friend will never feel the same". The longer Tails ruminates on these feelings, the stronger he feels them, the more he watches Sonic (especially as someone who cares about plenty of people other than him), the more time he spends with Sonic, the less incentivized he feels to actually confess. Especially if Sonic would never feel the same, the best Tails can hope for is that things stay the same between them and Sonic never replaces his role.

Or in short, Tails is so in his head about it at this point, it's very hard to convince him that confessing is ever a good idea or necessary.

But while Tails is more obviously attached to Sonic, Sonic is much less obviously attached to Tails and other people as a whole. With him being "free as the wind" and the kind of figure he is, he kind of benefits from having the persona of a guy who doesn't need his friends but (nevertheless) can be assisted by them. He probably seems cool for being so strong and independent while equally caring that people live. But this doesn't mean Sonic doesn't have attachments (far from it). Rather, for Sonic, his attachments to others seem to naturally grow. And the more time he spends with them, the more he grows used to their presence. And especially with someone like Tails, who has been around as his companion the longest, he doesn't sit around long enough to consider that Tails would ever leave his side. Once he grows used to that person, he doesn't have to recognize his attachment or even think about the nature of his own feelings because it is and always has been whatever it is. So, in other words, even if he becomes more and more reliant on the fact that Tails will always be around or that Tails will always assist him, he doesn't have to admit more than "This is what our best friendship is. This is what it's like"

All of this is to say that while my idea of present Tails would be trying to do anything in his power to stay with Sonic (as long as Sonic is willing of course), even if that means never confessing the exact nature of his feelings for the hedgehog, Sonic isn't already thinking about these things. This means that while Tails has very few pathways to confession, Sonic has plenty!...if you scare him well enough.

For example, Idw Sonic has been more clearly spending more time with Tails (even baseline just. Crashing at his place more often) after the metal virus arc. Couple this with post neo metal incident 2 electric boogaloo idw Sonic who just wants to have a break and live peacefully for a minute, this is a Sonic who has become scared enough to want to indulge in spending more time with Tails. I also think that post Sonic Prime Sonic is also a version of him who would start to spend more time with Tails than before after having already lost him and having to deal with the Tails shaped hole in his life once.

So, if you got a Sonic to the point where he'd fully accepted his feelings and he felt like confessing them would be necessary to secure the future he wants, then he'd confess. Honestly, the easiest way I'd see this going about would be a story where Tails is framed as leaving him to go do something or be somewhere else, away for Sonic, possibly indefinitely, or if Sonic actually has to spend enough time without Tails after initially telling himself his own feelings wouldn't matter so long as Tails is happy wherever he is. But, if it came down to confessing being something that might actually bring Sonic to his desired future (especially if Tails rejecting him is no different from prolonging the separation they already have if he says nothing), then I think he could work up the courage to do it.

And in the end...I think it has to be Sonic. Although I on occasion enjoy fantasizing about moments where Tails can't take it anymore and confesses, only for Sonic to realize his own feelings in the process, I think that Sonic would have to be the one who confesses his feelings/wishes for the future for Tails to even believe that his pipe dreams are a possibility. I think it's Sonic who would need to pull Tails out of his head, because the probability that Tails works up the courage to confess is more unlikely.

So...yeah. In my head, Sonic is driven to a point where he confesses and pulls Tails out of his head about it.

[generic-sonic-fan]

Mid-Redemption Metal Sonic: How did you get Sonic to stop haunting your narrative?? Omega: JUST STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM. NOT THAT HARD.

---

. . . except it is, in fact, "that hard".

While, to an extent, all Badniks are programmed to kill Sonic, Omega was built to defend against any generic intruder, not just the most likely candidate. He has all of Sonic's data and he did enjoy toying with it during his isolation. He used to fantasize about killing Sonic to prove himself as the most superior Badnik.

Metal Sonic, meanwhile, was purpose-built for one foe and one foe only. It not only possesses Sonic's data, but also the programming to pursue him at any cost. Metal's programming turns an idle desire to be the one to kill Sonic into a damn-near-unstoppable compulsion. Metal wouldn't be able to "stop" thinking about him without establishing significant workaround rituals or having an intervention from a programmer.

They're on completely different levels, something that Omega can't quite understand.

[echo-the-artist]

Maddie's eyes widened as her gaze found Tails, his namesake flicking without a care in the world and his arms overflowing with bags of mints, so many, it was a miracle the fox wasn't falling over from the weight, nevermind dropping any.

"Tails" called, Maddie, doing her best not to chuckle at the sight. Innocently, Tails's blue eyes peaked from his pile.

"Yes, Mrs. Wachowski?"

"Please, go put all those mints back, you can keep one bag" said Maddie, in the most calm tone a mother could have.

She hoped Tails would listen, to say "okay" and replace the bags where he found them. What she got instead was a frown and big, puppy eyes.

Oh no...

Not those eyes...

"Tails, no. Just keep one" Maddie's voice was raised with more command, pushing back the urge to give in. He wasn't going to use Ozzie's tricks.

The order seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Tails's eyes only became wider to send out various conflicting signals within the brain that fought against Maddie's maternal instincts while her son continued to resemble a certain orange cat with those big, adorable eyes and squishable face.

'Let him keep the mints'

'We can't afford to buy everything for him everytime'

'He's so cute and adorable and fluffy'

'The house still needs repairs'

'Who would say "no" to that cute face?'

'We literally can't afford this'

Wait... Was that a whimper?

"MILES TAILS WACHOWSKI!" Maddie finally shouted, able to pull herself out of the mental argument with herself, though it did nothing to shrink her son's unblinking, begging eyes. "I SAID PUT THE MINTS BACK!"

____

Maddie sighed as she closed the door, as everyone did their best to ignore the strong smell of mint from Tails while Sonic was pressed against the door as far as he could, plugging his nose with a grip that would make Knuckles jealous.

Tom's gaze fell onto Maddie, whose palm was pressing against her forehead.

"I know..." Was all the answers he needed. No other words were spoken on the drive home, except for the silent agreement between the parents.

Tails, seriously needs a intervention

[balestrra]

Just discovered ur blog through ur demigod au and 1) ur art is AMAZING omg and ur character designs are top tier 2) it looks like u have a ton more aus i cant wait to go through them prepare to be spammed with reblog notifications lol

I went through everything i could find on ur demigod (demihog?) au and it looks like i missed a lot what are the tags and blogs u use for it? Also do you have like a post where you list what everyone's the god of because id love to see whos who 💙

(also question: why are they "demigods" and not just "gods"? were all of them mortal at some point or something? sorry i just find this whole concept so cool)

Hi hiiii im very sorry for not responding for a million years

First of all thank u abt the designs its my favorite thing 2 do next 2 world building 🥹

Unfortunately my demigod au is very scattered bc i intend to make a full fledged fancomic abt it with my wife! And I have a new tag for it, #divine intervention au. Its completely written out and completed but we'd love to make it a comic so, all i post r like sketched n illustrations of stuff, sorry! What I can tell you is a quick lil synopsis tho: The god of wisdom (Terios) finds himself running from heavenly law after defending the god of happiness (Brisk) from a kangaroo court. Both escape to the mortal world of Mobius, and journey through Soleanna and themselves, uncovering hidden seediness going on between other gods in Heaven.

And so for whats everyone the god of, I'll make a quick post after this.

Also they're called demigods because yes! They were mortal before Tikal chose to ascend them to Heaven! Ascension is a very painful process, but all mortals who make it through get to become Tikals holy children above the clouds with their own dominion!

[vinnyvamppp]

we need more mark grayson co-parenting please PLEASE IM GOING TK CRY PLEAAAE

Our Son, Apparently

Note: DON'T CRY, LMFAO. I've made this installment longer, why? Because it hopefully wont bring the request of a third part, but honestly so much could be done with this, I wouldn't be surprised if someone did. This only scratches the surface.

Synopsis: Mark Grayson never meant to be a single dad. You never meant to become a co-parent by proximity. But when Oliver enters your life, everything changes. From grocery store breakdowns to baby-proofing the world from Viltrumite tantrums, you and Mark find yourselves building a family you didn’t plan for… and falling in love right in the middle of the mess.

Warnings: Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Canon-Level Superhero Violence, Themes of Single Parenthood, Accidental Family, Identity Pressure, Interrupted Intimancy, Baby... Fluids? EXHAUSTION, etc. (Two and a Half Graysons PART 2: Previous Part: Here.)

Mark Grayson x GN!Reader

WC: 1.9k

It starts with a crack. Not just a crack, an explosion of glass, a shriek of wind, and the sharp twang of something small and plastic ricocheting off the opposite wall. You freeze in the kitchen, work uniform half-smeared with banana mush, its watered down taste and betrayal.

Across the room, the window is obliterated. Shattered glass glitters on the floor like a warning. And at the epicenter—with his fists balled and cheeks flushed purple—is Oliver, practically vibrating with frustration. The pacifier lies in the corner like the murder weapon it is. A stubby, rubber-tipped missile of infant rage.

“Okay,” you say slowly, voice high-pitched and tight. “So we’re entering our supervillain phase early. That’s cool.” Before you can even take a step, there’s a sonic thud and Mark crashes through the hallway barefoot, hoodie half-zipped and clinging to one arm, hair soaking wet and sticking up in every direction like he lost a fight with a showerhead and a towel.

He’s holding one of Oliver’s tiny socks in one hand and nothing in the other. No shirt, no shoes, just sweatpants and alarm. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone break in—?” He pauses and sees the window, then Oliver. Then you, standing frozen with a spoonful of rejected mashed banana still in your hand.

Mark’s chest rises and falls with the kind of slow, controlled inhale you recognize immediately: do not freak out in front of the baby, do not freak out in front of the baby, do not—

He exhales and rubs his face. “What did I miss?” You gesture broadly at the destruction. “He didn’t like the unmashed banana.” Mark squints. “So he shattered the window?” You hold up the spoon. “I didn’t chew it first. Apparently that’s a crime now.”

There’s a long pause as Oliver lets out a little grunt, his chubby fingers clawing at the legs of your trousers, his face formed into the most pitiful pout. Mark presses his knuckles to his temple. “Cecil’s going to want to classify him as a WMD.” You snort. “I mean. Technically… he already is.”

Mark walks over, still barefoot, and carefully lowers Oliver back into the bouncer with gentle, practiced hands. Oliver lets out one last indignant coo before settling, hands clasping around his finger. Mark looks back at you. “I’ll fix the glass,” you murmur. “You just… survive until nap time.” You glance at him—hoodie half-hanging off one shoulder, sleep lines on his face, eyes soft and tired and still glowing faintly from adrenaline. And yeah, you think, maybe this is a disaster. It’s almost midnight when it’s finally quiet again.

The pacifier incident has been cleaned. The window is now repaired thanks to Cecil’s intervention (and Mark, who partially caved and followed a tutorial and swore under his breath the entire time). Oliver is tucked in, finally knocked out cold after Mark flew circles around the home until the kid passed out mid-air.

You’re standing in the kitchen, stirring a lukewarm cup of tea and staring into the nothingness that lives inside every sleep-deprived parent’s soul.

Behind you, a familiar heat. That slight change in air pressure when Mark enters the room. When he leans against the fridge with that look that always gets you into trouble. A lopsided grin, a raised brow, and a T-shirt long abandoned in the laundry apocalypse. What’s left of his khaki’s slung low, one hand casually holding a bowl of food he’s absolutely not eating. 

"You good?" he asks, voice low. "You look like you're about to throw the tea at the wall."

You glance over your shoulder. “If I don’t have a breakdown soon, it’s gonna get stuck in my chest. Gotta let the crazy out somehow.” You pause, finally catching his innuendo. “Are you trying to seduce me with that logic or your cereal breath?”

Mark steps behind you, hands finding your hips. His warmth sinks into your back, and you lean into him instinctively. His nose brushes your neck. “Both. Let it out later. We’ve got ten whole minutes of peace. Maybe twenty.”

You feel his hand drift, slide under the hem of your hoodie, fingers skimming over the expanse of flesh. Your breath catches in your throat. Your whole body hums and you can feel the tension shift—sharp, sweet, starved. His lips graze just behind your ear. “You smell like puff dust,” he murmurs. “It’s weirdly hot.”

You laugh, breathless, turning to face him. He lifts you onto the counter without hesitation, standing between your knees. He’s kissing you—slow, deep, one hand curling around your waist like he’s remembering your shape. Your fingers tangle within his curls, his fingers traveling lower unsure of their destination. You let him press you back against the fridge, and god, it’s been weeks. You can feel the tension unraveling between you both, fingertips digging, breathing uneven—

WAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. You both freeze, eyes wide.

Mark groans, head dropping to your shoulder. “I jinxed it.”

“I knew he was waiting to ruin this. He has a sixth sense for foreplay.” It was the next morning, and you both were awoken by the print of small feet against your lower back and the soft padded knocks at the front door. Cecil had sent a nanny. You weren't consulted, nor was Mark.

She arrives at 7 a.m. sharp in a shimmering suit, floating half an inch off the floor. Thressa, from the Glorvax system. Glowing skin, elegant limbs, eyes like a lava lamp. She walks into the home like she's visited a dozen times in past lives and scoops Oliver up like she’s been waiting years.

He giggles and reaches for her face before nuzzling her like a puppy.

You and Mark stare in utter, sleep-deprived bewilderment. Both looking like abandoned houseplants as she explains his development and gently feeds Oliver a new formula. Mark leans in, whispering, “Do you think she’s actually a nanny or just here to steal him from us?” You narrow your eyes. “She called him ‘my sweet hatchling.’ That’s not childcare. That’s a claim.”

Thressa turns and smiles warmly. “You two look stressed. Would you like time to yourselves? Perhaps a long shower together?”

You silently stare at her. Mark begins coughing violently, clearly flustered. And Oliver’s gleeful giggles ring out. “She knows Viltrumite development inside and out,” Cecil says, appearing via teleportation, money soon to be wasted as you hastily usher him away. “We need to start assessments. He’s already got strength enhancements and advanced development. She’ll help you prepare.”

“Did you hire her?” you ask flatly.

“No,” Cecil says. “I deployed her.”

And that’s when you snap.

You’re pacing Mark’s bedroom, hair mussed and voice sharp. “She shows up, picks up our kid, and suddenly he’s just—hers? She calls him her hatchling, Mark. Who says that? Who just decides they’re a better parent without even talking to us?”

Mark sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, watching you. Quiet. “I’m trying,” you say, and your voice breaks just a little. “I’m not his real parent. I know that. I’m not even—whatever we are, I just—but I love him. I choose him every single day. And I—”

You cut yourself off, chest heaving. Mark’s looking at you like you’ve just lit up the whole room.

“What?” you ask, flustered beyond comparison. “You said ‘our kid,’” he says quietly. “Like it’s just true. No hesitation.” You blink. “I��yeah. Because it is.” There was no in your words hesitation this time. He crosses the room in three steps and pulls you into a hug that feels like a home. "You're walking this with me. Every step. You didn't have to. But you are." And for a moment, you just breathe together, hearts dancing amongst one another as the night crickets sing.

Later that night, you’re curled up on the couch. Oliver’s asleep on your chest, tiny fingers fisted in your shirt. Mark’s beside you, legs tangled with yours, quiet. Soft. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, voice rough with something raw. “About all of this. You. Him. Us.” You glance over. His hand is fidgeting in his hoodie pocket. You feel your heart catch.

Mark doesn’t look at you. “It’s not the life I pictured. But it’s the only one I want. I don’t need perfect. I just need you.” You lean in and start placing soft kisses—one to his forehead. One to his closed eyelid. One to his cheek. Your lips brush his jaw last, and you whisper, “I already said yes.”

He looks at you, blinking, smile blooming like sunlight. He starts to move—to speak, maybe reach for something, and then— BLLAAAHHRGGHHH. A full-force stream of baby puke explodes all over your chest.

Oliver sits up mid-sleep and lets out a happy screech. Mark stares, frozen and yu stare down at your shirt. Silence…

You sigh. “So. Romantic.” Mark laughs, helpless, but relieved. “I was so close.” You press your forehead to his. “You still are. Just—Just give me a moment.” The apartment is quiet for once—no screeching, no flying objects, no sudden diaper blowouts or random alien agency visits. The air hums with that tired kind of stillness you only get after surviving a war made entirely of juice spills and broken windows.

You’re both on the couch, half-curled into each other like always—your legs over his lap, his hand absently stroking up and down your shin. There’s a half-empty bottle of formula abandoned on the coffee table, and Mark’s hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows as he stares at your joined limbs like he’s seeing something new.

He’s not shirtless, shockingly, but the gray tee he is wearing is soft and thin and rides up when he shifts. You’re trying not to think about that. Or about how stupid in love you feel. And then he does it—says the thing that makes everything tilt slightly sideways.

“I really wanted to do this earlier.”

You glance over at him, brow raised. “Do what?” You knew, but you always loved watching him stammer. Mark’s eyes flick toward the hallway—where the baby’s sleeping like a tiny purple demon—and then back to you. “The real version. Not the puke-soaked one.”

Your chest tightens. That thing in your stomach flips over once. He shifts under your legs, suddenly looking very much like the guy who once flew through asteroids but is now panicking because emotions are harder than world threatening catastrophes.

“I didn’t get to say it the way I wanted to,” he says. “Didn’t even get the sentence out. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About you. About Oliver. About how you’ve been in it with me. Even when it’s been hell. And I just—” He stops and scratches the back of his neck, blotches of blush creeping up his skin.

“I’m not great at this,” he mutters. “The talking thing. Or the… ring thing.” Your breath catches as he pulls something out of his pocket. It’s small a small, silver band at first glance. No grand box, no sparkle, but honest. The kind of ring someone keeps in their hoodie for weeks because they never know when life will let them have five minutes to use it.

He looks up at you. His eyes are soft and unsteady, but open. “I don’t need a ceremony or a perfect moment. I just want to make this official. Me and you. And him. Because you’re already it for me. You’ve been it since you didn’t flinch when I showed up with a purple alien baby and said, ‘Hey, I kind of need you.’”

You stare at him for a second, heart full to the point of bursting, brain trying to keep up with the wave of affection suddenly choking you. You lean in slowly. Your lips brush along his jaw as you whisper, “You never had to ask.” He exhales like you just took all the weight out of his chest.

You take the ring from his fingers and slide it onto your own without ceremony, just solid, quiet finality. The ring is smooth and silver-toned, with a thin, engraved pattern around the band—a repeating geometric design that, at first glance, looks abstract. But you recognize it immediately: a minimalist recreation of the pattern around Science Dog’s communicator. On the inside, there’s a small engraving: “For the one who made it all mean something. (Issue#47)”

“Wait, is this… Science Dog’s communicator symbol?”

“You noticed that?” Mark mumbles, stumbling slightly over his words. “Yeah. I mean, he always picks love over logic, even when it gets him hurt. Felt fitting.” It was fitting. He left you in a stunned silence, a grin etching across your lips as his panic set in.

“Look, I saw it on a fan site and the engraving said, ‘Intergalactic loyalty since Issue #1’ and I just—it felt right, okay? Don’t make fun of me.” He laughs—small and a little dazed—and pulls you into his lap, burying his face in your neck. “God, you’re stuck with me now.”

“Mark,” you murmur, smiling. “I’ve been stuck since the first time you showed up at my job holding a diaper bag and looking like a confused golden retriever.” He snorts. “Sexy golden retriever,” he corrects, smitten against your collarbone. “Yeah. Covered in formula and baby wipes. Total heartthrob.”

He pulls back to look at you, the grin soft but teasing. “I love you.” The words are quiet. Uncomplicated and true.

The only sound left in the room is your breathing—and his. Your fingers brush his jaw, just enough to tilt his face toward yours. His eyes are tired but warm—lit from within by something more than adrenaline or duty or even affection. It’s love, and it’s undeniable.

His hands curl around your waist, pulling you closer like he’s making sure this is real. Your thighs bracket his, your knees brushing, and your fingers slide into his hair with a practiced ease that makes him shudder. “We could…” he whispers, his breath catching as your lips brush the curve of his neck. “Maybe… actually finish something tonight?”

You grin against his skin. “Finish or start something. We don’t have to be ambitious.” He laughs, low and warm, and leans into the kiss again, deeper this time. It builds—slow but certain. A quiet dam that’s been waiting to break.

Your hips shift against his. His hand trails beneath the hem of your shirt, and you feel it in your stomach first—the pull of wanting, of comfort, of home. But you pause. Just long enough to breathe together, forehead pressed to his.

Mark’s ring glinting softly on his finger where it presses against your clothed skin. The family photo Eve took on your fridge: slightly blurry, your hair a mess, Mark looking exhausted, Oliver mid-sneeze—and all of you smiling like you didn’t know the moment was going to matter.

Because it does.

Mark didn’t plan for any of this. Not fatherhood. Not an engagement. Not this future. But right now, watching you lean into him like you were always meant to be there, he wouldn’t trade a second of it. Because this is his family. And you?

You’ve been his world since the day he showed up in your doorway with panic in his eyes and a baby in his arms.

You kiss him again, slow this time—no interruptions, no crying, no urgency. Just warmth. His hands around your waist. Your fingers gliding across his scalp. Mouths meeting gently, like you’ve got all the time in the world.

And for once… you do. A/N: I'm contractually obligated to end every fic with a sappy one liner. CONGRATS READER, YOU'RE OFFICIALLY A GRAYSON. (If anyone requests a part three, I promise you I will go full chaos with the nest one, had to keep this one adjacent to comic timing, though.)

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[lara-cairncross]

my personal sonadow headcanons in no particular order bc im procrastinating on writing a research paper right now and its either do this or throw myself off the roof:

Shadow is a few inches shorter than Sonic, but ONLY if he takes his shoes off. cue many years' worth of shenanigans with Shadow doing everything in his power to avoid going barefoot in Sonic's presence because he knows if Sonic finds out he'll never hear the end of it (hes right)

T4T SONADOW

Sonic was able to get top surgery, but Shadow's body healed itself too quickly for it to work on him. flash forward to when he gets his Black Doom abilities and one of his first orders of business is to fuck around with them until he's able to give HIMSELF top surgery

Sonic hates coffee beans (too bitter) and Shadow hates chili dogs (too heavy/savory). they've broken up over this enough times for Rouge to lose count

Sonic is so good at flirting with everyone EXCEPT SHADOW. HE GETS TOO FLUSTERED. HE TRIES SO HARD AND IT NEVER WORKS BUT SHADOW IS TOO DOWN BAD TO CARE

Shadow grew up on a space station, with no biological reason to eat, and no access to fresh food or a kitchen. Sonic literally raised both himself AND TAILS. Shadow is NOT the cook between the two of them please everyone keeps saying otherwise and i dont understand it you cant convince me shadow knows how to boil a pot of water PLEASE SOMEBODY AGREE WITH ME

Sonic ages. Shadow doesn't. 50 years down the line somebody asks Sonic if Shadow is his son. Shadow immediately gets payback for 50 years of short jokes.

they are both so smart and so capable and so dangerous by themselves but if you put them in the same room in any context outside of a life-or-death situation they become the two dumbest motherfuckers you've ever had the displeasure of engaging in polite conversation with

shadow bottoms what who said that

okay this one might be silly but I feel like they would both be good at chess??? like Sonic is surprisingly well-read and more observant than people give him credit for, and Shadow probably had a lot of strategy training from GUN + played games with Maria on the ARK. idk i just feel like it would be a fun way for them to challenge each other outside of just racing/combat yknow

they both wear jewelry with each others' colors :] i usually make it earrings but i think Sonic having bracelets to mirror Shadow's rings would be really cute too

autistic Shadow and ADHD Sonic yes please yes yes yes

Sonic is the most verbally affectionate and Shadow is the most physically affectionate IM RIGHT YOU CANT ARGUE WITH ME ON THIS ONE IM PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN GOODBYE

they like to beat each other up a little toooooo much and its kinda toxic maybe but also theyre both having fun so like. maybe its just a love language 🫶🫶

Tails is so, SO disappointed with Sonic for his choice in men. like he actively considers holding an intervention when he finds out that Shadow and Sonic started dating

theyre both somewhere on the aromantic and asexual spectrums because uhhhhhh so am i and i can project if i want to

Sonic is a chronic yapper and Shadow is a listener BUT. HEAR ME OUT. IT STARTS TO SWAP AS THEY GET MORE COMFORTABLE WITH EACH OTHER. shadow comes out of his shell and feels more at ease talking, and sonic appreciates having someone who doesnt expect him to be at full energy/optimism 24/7 and lets him be silent when he needs to be

[giulliadella]

Guys, I know I said that this blog isn't political, but I have to vent.

Yesterday, Serbia, my country, experienced the largest protest in history. Around one MILLION people (Serbia has a population of 6 million) gathered to protest against the corruption in our government. These protests have been going on since November 2024. when a recently renovated canopy in the city of Novi Sad fell and killed 15 people. Nobody has been prosecuted yet.

The students of all Serbian universities began to protest, urging the institutions to do their job. But the corruption in the country is unbelievable. Record-breaking protests have been taking place all over the country, all of them have been peaceful.

However, the government organized groups of hooligans that were trying to disrupt everything. It has full control of all mainstream media. On the day of the massive protest on March 15., all public transport has been removed from the streets: all trains, busses, even taxis were ordered not to drive. But people, including me, walked for miles to get to the downtown.

The protest was going great, despite the rain and relatively cold weather. People were peaceful and hopeful, they were having fun, playing music, carrying funny signs, making noise with whistles and trumpets. The atmosphere was great, everyone was kind to each-other, me and my friends hung out, shared cookies, talked about silly gay stuff.

But then, during 15 minutes of silence that people held to commemorate the 15 dead, our government used a sound cannon, a sonic weapon, on these calmly standing people, in the middle of silence. It was chilling. I wasn't on that location when it happened, but many people have been hurt. One man had his pacemaker screw up, giving him several heart attacks. A lot of people are reporting tinnitus, pain, they are disoriented. The goal of this was to try an cause a stampede in a crowd of MILLION PEOPLE. However, due to quick intervention of students, such tragedy was avoided.

BTW, the sonic weapon was fired in the close proximity of a maternity hospital.

And now, as if all of this wasn't bad enough, the government froze the medical records of every person that came to our PUBLIC HEALTH hospitals with symptoms from the protest. These people are DENIED MEDICAL CARE after THEIR OWN GOVERNMENT used and ILLEGAL and HIGHLY DANGEROUS WEAPON on them in hospitals that THEY PAID FOR.

I am a very peaceful and non-confrontational person. This is the first time in my life that I wished death upon someone. I genuinely wish death to our president and all of his little criminal friends and his journalists and all those morons in healthcare denying people help. I have never experienced this level of evil. I have always believed that there is good in everyone, but now I think that some people may be an exception.

And the worst of all is that my family is against these protests. They don't support our government, but they are not against them either. "Because someone worse might come." I don't know if it can get worse than this. This is actual terrorism. The next step is killing people. Outright. I am scared, but I love my country and I want it to do better. I will continue to support the protests, no matter what.

I'm genuinely sorry for this rant, but I am under so much stress, I needed to vent. I genuinely pray that no country ever has to experience what Serbia is experiencing now.

[jamminvroomvroom]

777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember. 


everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you��d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

-

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

-

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

-

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

i’ve removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

[audaciousacolyte]

hiii 🧡, hope ur day has been good..

u can delete this req if u want but could i request knuckles x shy reader headcanons?

Super shy <3

Knuckles x shy! Reader HCs

|| AN: lol i have so many requests that i need to do. ||

Knuckles is NOT a man of subtlety, as I’m sure you know

If you want him to know something, you are GOING to have to tell him flat out. No beating around the bush, no chickening out last second.

Now, that’s not to say that he’s stupid by ANY means, but you must admit that our favorite emerald guarding red head is a bit dense, especially when it comes to other people.

(I mean, he’s spent a large portion of his life on his own, so I’m sure you can imagine how that would affect his social skills)

On that note, Knuckles is NOTICEABLY softer around you. . . So much so that his friends are starting to wonder if he’s been possessed

(Sonic HAS staged an intervention for Knuckles due to his uncharacteristic gentleness with you. Knuckles has never been so flattered and frustrated in his life.)

Although he DOES make an ATTEMPT to be gentler with you, there ARE times when his temper gets the better of him. As previously stated, Knuckles doesn’t DO subtle, and he may snap at you when he feels frustrated.

He always makes up for it later, though <3

[shoophise]

Seeing the recent questions about chaos energy and how shadow would deal with the lack of it post transformation, I wondered if he would go to the lengths of taking off his inhibitor rings just to feel in that level of energy again. Would it be enough? Would the extended time as hyper shadow made it so he can now deal with that much chaos? Or would it just be a horrible coping mechanism that takes an intervention to stop?

In that same line of thinking, would sonic instantly adjust to the returned energy? I imagine that he would, but could it be that the extended time as dark sonic messed with how he regulates his emotions? maybe post transformation he is much more volatile and has to go to anger management classes or something.

I swear to God I need to stop injecting this AU with angst in my head, it has enough as it is 😅

Since he won’t have most of his memories after going back to normal, Shadow would probably feel anxious abt not having that Chaos Energy on him.

He wouldn’t take the inhibitor rings bc he knows it’s dangerous for the people around him, but perhaps try to steal a Chaos Emerald to at least feel something. He will miss that feeling of euphoria the Hyper form made him feel.

For Sonic’s part he will be scared to be alone by himself, he hates the silence. Probably will try to be close to Tails as much as possible, but will still be scared he will turn into Dark Sonic again and hurt his friends.

Which is frustrating to him bc that means he won’t be allowed to join battle until he’s completely fine, he lost control of his Chaos Energy so it’s not safe to let him join adventures for a while

In conclusion, the trauma of these 2 will go crazy after they go back to normal. All this and they haven’t even confronted each other abt what happened, damn i love Angst.

[thespectral-wolf]

An Enigma in Shadows: Epilogue - Left Unsaid

A thousand thanks to @w0lp3rtinger for beta reading and helping out with the writing.

As the title says, this is an epilogue to my comic, which if you haven't read yet, you can find the first page here.

---

“Amy, please, let me help” Sonic pleaded to her for what felt like the fiftieth time this week.

Amy chose to ignore him and instead focused on making sure she packed everything she needed for today’s search. Almost three weeks had passed since Shadow left abruptly after her friends’ intervention. Fourteen days of her hoping the hedgehog would return so they could set things straight. Six days since she decided to find his residence herself and maybe, just maybe make it up to him. She took another look at her map to see where she would continue. Only four hundred square kilometers of jungle to search through. She let out an audible sigh.

Sonic waited behind her, arms crossed and one foot tapping rhythmically, betraying his otherwise patient expression. She turned her head slightly. 

“I don’t think I want your idea of help.”

Sonic groaned.“Look, I know I messed up-”

“That’s an understatement.”

Sonic let go of his irritation with a huff. He continued, “I do want to make it up to you, Amy. At least don’t go into the jungle alone again!”

Amy turned around to look him in the eye.

“Okay, fine! Let’s say I consider taking your offer. How do you intend to help me with this?”

The tension left Sonic’s body, the look of relief spread across his face. “Finally! Thank you!” he exclaimed, and before Amy could say anything, he stepped closer and continued, “You know, I often take a morning jog around the island. Maybe I’ve seen the place you’re looking for.”

Amy snorted, “Yeah, because you look at the places you pass by during your mach-one ‘jogs’.”

Sonic mocked a hurt expression at the accusation. 

“Come on now, I do appreciate the sights. Besides, I should mention that I have an impeccable visual memory,” he leaned on the table, arms crossed and looked his usual smug self. Amy normally liked his cockiness — not that she would ever admit that — but this time, she found it irritating.

“Go on,” he continued, “Test me. Describe the place we're looking for,” and gestured to her map with his head.

“Okay then,” she recalled what the part of the jungle looked like to her best ability. It wasn’t hard, even after so many weeks. The initial shock of Shadow’s living situation embedded the details of the place in her mind. The small incline Shadow used for sleeping, the little camp that was rather civil despite the roughness. The storm shelter that was probably a long abandoned property,  repurposed by the black hedgehog, hidden carefully from curious eyes. She even surprised herself by remembering where the two places lay relative to each other. Sonic did not say a word throughout all of that, only nodding a few times.

“So,” Amy spread her arms expectantly, “any ideas, Mr. Know-It-All?”

“I’m not sure about that shelter, but a small cave in a clearing facing north…” Sonic murmured, as he looked at the wall, eyes darting about. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Yeah, I think I know where that is!”

Amy blinked, “Really? Just like that?!”

“Yup! Pretty impressive, huh?” Sonic smirked.

She wasn’t going to be convinced so easily, “Okay then, can you show me where it is on the map?”

Sonic glanced at the item in question, and gave her an amused smile, “You know reading maps is not my strong suit.”

Why wasn’t she surprised…

“Well, thanks for nothing, I guess…” she was ready to pack up and leave.

“Buuut,” he leaned into her line of sight, “I can still take you there.”

“I’m not letting you carry me there, Sonic,” any other day, the idea would’ve excited her, but she was still bitter over his actions.

He shrugged.

“I could take you on the Blue Force One, too. Tails just upgraded the offroad mode.”

“Isn’t the Blue Force One only for one person?” she raised an eyebrow.

Sonic looked away and rubbed his nose.

“It can fit two… if you hold on close,” he murmured.

“Ugh!” Amy threw her hands up and turned her back on him. For one, because she couldn’t hide her flushed face, and she felt ashamed that even when she’s supposed to be super mad at him, he could get this reaction out of her. And another, she couldn’t believe Sonic is still playing around like that.

“Hey, I’m just teasing!” Sonic held up his arms, and gave his most apologetic smile. The glare he earned from her then melted that smile off right away. After a moment of silence, he spoke up in a softer voice, “C’mon, Amy. You trust me, don’t you?”

She wanted to say no. Sonic betrayed her trust when he still went out of his way to spy on her and Shadow and got himself and the others involved. But also, he was one of her closest friends. Even if he hurt her, she couldn’t stay mad at him forever. And she knew he was genuinely sorry. She rubbed her eyes.

“Fine, but when we get there, you hang back, okay? The last thing I want is you and Shadow get into a fight.”

“You know it’s usually him who initiates them, right?” Amy glowered at him for that, and he immediately put his hands up defensively. “Right, no fisticuffs, got it.”

The ride was… unusually silent. She sat behind Sonic, trying to hold on to him in a way that wasn’t too uncomfortable for either of them. She didn’t see Sonic’s face, but as he drove at a reasonable pace on the uneven trail, the tension in his body told her he was focused on the task.

At one point, he slowed to a halt, turning off the engine.

“We gotta go on foot from here. I love this thing, but it can’t tear through the foliage… yet,” Sonic explained as he got out.

“Just don’t run off, okay?” Amy grumbled.

“Hey, I can walk if I want,” Sonic turned around to face her, walking backwards very fast.

“Are you sure you’re walking?”

“This is walking for me,” Sonic joked, then turned around and started to jog.

“That is a lie, and you know that!” Amy shouted, keeping up with his speed. She could hear Sonic’s laugh in front of her. She shook her head. He can’t take things seriously, can he?

They trudged through the forest for quite some time before the plant life started to thin. Amy squinted at the sudden brightness, but when her eyes adjusted, she loudly exclaimed:

“Yeah, this is it!” Amy couldn’t hide her surprise when she looked around. It was definitely the cave where Shadow was staying in during their time working together, although it was strange to see it in daylight.

Sonic kicked a pebble and looked as nonchalant as always. “And if you accepted my help earlier, you would’ve saved a lot of time.”

She ignored his comment, and instead approached the incline. She had to be cautious. Shadow avoided confrontation last time, but it could’ve been because he was taken by surprise. She didn’t know how the other hedgehog would react if she approached him uninvited.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark, but once she could see, she had noticed that the cave was completely empty, the only thing indicating that someone was here were the rocks and charcoal making up the firepit. Everything else — the old sleeping bag, the dirty rags that covered the log used for sitting, the various tools, even the empty food cans — were gone. He has left. She should have expected this, yet disappointment still washed over her. There might still be a chance though…

She dashed out of the cave, and went in the direction of the shelter. Sonic, who was leaning against a tree the whole time,  hurried to follow. She didn’t say a word.

She ground to a stop when she saw that the shelter’s door was torn off from its hinges and tossed to the side. It also looked like as if the earth collapsed where the rest of the shelter should be. She felt a tightness in her chest, but pushed past it and went for the entrance.

The ladder was missing, so she jumped down. Using her communicator’s in-built flashlight, she took a better look at the scene. The place caved in, leaving nothing but rubble and dirt. She cautiously moved some of the debris. She could see the remains of what used to be the shelf, but on a closer look, all the knick-knacks Shadow had there weren’t in the rubble.

That meant he took them. 

So he must’ve destroyed it on purpose.

She just stood there, staring at the ruins where barely a month ago she was spending entire nights awake trying to solve a mystery. Trying to help someone…

She absentmindedly hovered a hand to her cheek, feeling the freshly healed skin.

“Yo, Amy, all good?” Sonic shouted in from above, snapping Amy out of her thoughts.

“Yes, it’s fine,” she told him. She walked back and climbed out with the aid of her hammer.

“No sign of him,” she dusted herself off, and looked away into the thick of the forest.

“Do you want to try tomorrow?” he asked as they made their way back to the clearing.

“No… I don’t think we’re going to meet him here,” she looked off in the distance. “Just give me a sec, okay?”

Amy entered the small cave again and fished out an item: Shadow’s glove sealed in an airtight bag. Ideally, she would have given it to Shadow in person or at the very least leave it for him. But was he coming back here? Or will this place be vacant forever? A part of her wanted to resume the search, but the island was large, and Shadow would continue to elude them until he decided to be found.

If he ever decided he wanted to be found…

She finally made the decision and put the glove down on a flat rock where the elements hopefully won’t disturb it. She left, only taking one more glance back at the now empty place before going home.

~*~

It took several days before a figure appeared in the cave again. His heavy boots dug into the clay floor as he took in his surroundings. After he felt he was in the clear, he approached the item placed so clearly out in the open, it might as well be a bait for a trap. 

His instincts screamed that it was, but a small part of him said that he doesn’t have to be wary. That it will be okay.

It was strange how easy he listened to that small voice.

He picked up the bag containing the glove, and after making another quick check that nobody was watching him, he practically scrambled to put it on.

Something inside touched his fingers, making him freeze. Slowly he pulled out what appeared to be a neatly folded piece of paper.  He stared at it for a short moment before his fist closed with such force that were it not for the glove, his claws would have dug into his palm for sure. With the same rush of energy, he was ready to throw the crumpled note away as far as he could.

Something in the back of his mind stopped him, that little voice again, and his fist hung high in the air frozen mid-swing.

He let out a shaky breath, lowered his hand and stared at the little paper. Seconds stretched on, he could hear nothing but blood rushing in his ear, the buzz so loud it was almost drowning out his thoughts. Choppy breaths evened out, every long intake of air bringing in the smell of damp clay and moss. A faint memory of bamboo and scented candles and freshly cooked pasta tried to wriggle itself back to the forefront of his mind. Finally, he neatly straightened it and started to unfold it, the curiosity to find out what was inside finally taking over him. He read its contents. And read it again. And again. The wrinkles of his brow deepened more and more at his puzzlement. He turned it over, but found the rest of the paper empty. He read it again, taking in each word, like it was a riddle.

“You forgot it at my place. I figured you’d want it back. I did wash it though, I hope you don’t mind.”

That was all of it. He was expecting an overly sentimental message about making amends and the importance of friendship and something about Amy’s door being always open to him… yet this here was as plain as it could get. It baffled him. And yes, he did mind the smell of the detergent.

It was pointless to keep the message. But he did not throw it away. Instead, he folded it back and pushed it inside his glove so it sat between the fabric and his hand in a way that wasn’t too bothersome. Shadow turned tail and left the cave with a thought that felt so dangerous: what would it mean to him if he left a bridge unburned?

[big-cheesy-productions]

Sonic Movie 3 Spoilers

I've seen people upset about Maria's death because she wasn't directly shot, and I just need to emphasize:

Those soldiers were very much intending to shoot her. They knew they were kids and were going to shoot anyway. That soldier fired his gun with the intention to shoot Maria. Walter's intervention caused the shot to miss.

And to be fair, the games/shows/etc. never explicitly show her be shot (Edit: that one video from SA2 where she has 2 gunshot wounds in her back? That's fake. That's a mod. She does not have wounds on her in that scene. All we hear is a gunshot before flashing back to that memory). It's heavily implied, but never directly, explicitly shown. They couldn't show or even imply her getting shot in order to keep their PG rating (Jeff Fowler confirmed this), but the intention is very much there: GUN killed Maria, one way or another.

I have some minor nitpicks with her death, such as no last words or promise, but I understand why they didn't do that for both the rating and the plot the movie was going for. Having him forget her promise wouldn't make as much sense in this context without Gerald altering him memory. It does work in the movie, I just wish we got a longer scene.

My major nitpick is that they don't go further into exploring GUN's involvement and morality in the movie. Team Sonic questions it a bit, and I think we're supposed to infer that Walter's made changes to the organization after what happened, but they kind of drop the GUN stuff halfway through.

Point is, GUN was still very much the direct cause of Maria's death in the movie.

[josphitia]

Demon HRT, part 1

Trigger Warnings: Horror, Vomiting, Blood, loss of bodily control

--------------------------------------------------------------

So I live in this place called Hyper City. Fun place, as far as cities go. Lately I’ve been seeing so many freakish peoples around. Dragon and Fish girls, an Eldritch monstrosity or two, hell I even saw Sonic the goddamn hedgehog walking around! Which, don't get me wrong, is FANTASTIC. All these people getting to be their true selves, it brings a tear to your eye! So I asked a few of them, very politely I might add, whereabouts they've been getting these medicinal interventions from. They all pointed me in the same direction.

An unassuming building lay before my feet as I entered a dinghy lobby. The place was littered with fur of every color and length, along with the occasional reptilian shedding-flake. The overworked receptionist looked at me with her bagged eyes and handed me a clipboard and pen. “Walk-in or Appointment sugar” “Walk-in!” “Alright. Wait time is about 3 hours if you're able to wait that long.” I looked around at the empty lobby and shrugged. I had nothing but time after all.

I lazily filled out the form, checking ‘No’ on all the usual culprits. From there I enjoyed the simple pleasures of people watching. Or I guess in this case, animal watching, as they walked in one after the other for their appointments. All sorts of creatures you'd think only existed in cartoons. A blue snake lady, a white tiger, like 4 fucking slimes. All of them seemed to leave with the same two things: lifeless eyes and a small paper bag they held onto like a treasure.

After 4 hours of waiting, finally, finally it was my turn to go back. I was escorted to the man’s office itself. Though you'd think a doctor would have better furniture. I had a comfier chair to sit on in elementary school. Soon the doc entered and he asked me to plead my case. “Doc, you gotta help me. I’ve seen the people in the streets and they say you've helped them! So I'm asking you, are you able to help me? I wanna be a demon!”

“Are. Are you serious? You're not making this up? This is for real?"

“Of course Doc! Deep inside me is a Beelzebub just waiting to burst free!”

“Absolutely not. How in blazes would I even create something like that?? I deal with the terrestrial, the creatures that actually roam this earth.”

“Bitch I literally saw a Sonic the Hedgehog.”

“Changing the hue of a standard hedgehog’s hair and incorporating specialized techniques to aid in speed is one thing. I'm not some revolving door for people to just turn into any farcical fictional absurdity that crosses their minds! I'll have to ask you to leave.”

I was escorted out of the building and as soon as I was I turned around to the doors and gave them my parting gift: two middle fingers and a loud “WELL FUCK YOU TOO!” As I turned to walk away I saw a young person in a tattered cloak approaching me.

“Troubles with Dr. Erian?”

“Yeah and what's it to you?”

“He is ignorant. Afraid of the worlds beyond his meager vision.” As they said this, they removed their hood, fully showcasing the double-irises of their eyes and a pure white eye in the middle of their forehead without any indication of an eyelid. “I know a place of power. A repository of knowledge. It is there you can acquire the help you need. Simply walk the road least trodden between the spires of ill-progress. At the end of the trail you will come upon a fork in the road. Take the third option, for all others are lies.”

“Okay cool but like what do I put in my Maps app?”

“Oh. Uhm. It's 666 Arkham Drive.”

----------------------

An hour or so of walking later I arrived at my destination. A library that seemed as both a cathedral and a butcher’s shop. But off in the alleyway beside the library was an old lady with a sharply crooked nose. She was wearing a long trench coat and as soon as she saw me she outreached a long, spindly finger in a “come hither” motion.

“Hello boy. I have the target of your mission…” she coyly remarked as she rummaged around in her coat before pulling out a plastic orange medicine bottle.

“I heard about you from Lidless Vision.

They told me to anticipate your arrival.

For you and only you, I have this vial.”

“Yeah yeah lady I've been down this road before. This isn't my first time encountering a creepy old crone in an alleyway offering me drugs. How do I know you're not a cop like the last one?”

“I can offer you no assurances but this: What I offer, I offer freely.

My master is one of chaos and all things unseemly.

I am a friend to those whose souls offer a dark shine.

I am no accomplice to the thin blue line. Also ACAB.”

“Ah right on, right on… Okay so what'll it cost.”

“I seek no compensation, no monetary transaction.

I only wish to help you achieve your satisfaction.

I have heard tell inside of you is a demon.

Take these pills, with water, and release what's within.”

With this she quickly grabbed my hand and thrust the bottom between my fingers. The label was haphazardly placed, but the instructions were what she said: “Take one pill twice a day. WITH WATER.”

“Well thank-” and before I knew it she was gone, along with the library. Around me was nothing but the shattered dreams of Mom ‘n Pop stores of the past. I looked around but could find no evidence of the crone, as if she was never there to begin with…

It was a long walk back home; and as soon as I arrived I collapsed on the couch. I was eager to ingest my new medication, with water, and to see the changes my body would undergo. I went to lie in bed and I was so exhausted I could only accomplish an hour of doom scrolling before sleep caressed me into her embrace.

------------------------------------

I awoke the next afternoon and immediately ran to the bathroom. I poured over my reflection for any changes, but all I could notice was that I was… pale? My skin all over was becoming pasty and white. I hope I wasn't getting an allergic reaction…

Although perhaps this was a normal part of the HRT process. Shedding my previous color before my demonic hues came in. But great, now people will think I'm some kinda nerd. Hopefully I could develop a tan to help normalize my complexion.

I took my first allotted HRT pill, with water, and prepared myself. I got dressed and was ready to start my day off visiting any and all businesses begging for a job while being told “there's an application online.” I went to put on my sneakers and… hrm. My toes were pressing up against the end of the shoe. I guess all that walking made my feet a bit swollen today. Nothing another day of walking wouldn't fix. Not like I could just buy another pair, certainly not without a stable income.

First stop on my itinerary was Emperor Burger. I walked onto those sticky floors and was immediately hit with a wall of smell: a queasy concoction of grease, potatoes, and depression. Not many people eat here if they could help it, after all. I walked up to the counter to an acne riddled individual but before I could speak I vomited all over the minimum wage worker to an audible “aw COME ON MAN!” I collapsed onto the floor as the worker began moping around me, either unwittingly or maliciously ignoring my plight as I kneeled over. I couldn't breathe, I was choking on something caught in my throat. Instinctively I clawed into my mouth to dislodge the object, grabbing what felt like fabric. I gripped and pulled but the more I pulled the more felt trapped in my stomach. It was like I was pulling out my own intestines as a long rope of tightly tied… hankerchiefs? were pulled out of my body, soaked in my own bile and blood. But eventually with one final yank my throat was free of the obstruction and I could finally breathe, if in ragged short breaths.

“Help me get this guy the fuck out of here, he's some kinda drunk or something!” was what the clerk started yelling as two workers hoisted me to my feet and threw me out onto the curb. The fall should have hurt, but all my mind could focus on was how much the sunlight now burned my skin and obscured whatever vision I had through tear-stained eyes. I gripped my stomach as I limped home, pedestrians giving my pained body, stained with my own fluids, a wide berth.

I arrived at my humble hovel with another fall onto the floor. I felt like a failure, I wasn't even out an hour before coming back to my dimly lit den. Was the clerk right? Was I just a drunk? Hungover? But I didn't even have the money for alcohol, let alone enough to leave me in this condition. But the thought finally flashed through my mind like lightning:

The pills.

I tried crawling to the table where I was keeping my precious medication but I was barely there before more pains creeped their way across my body, sending me into seizures. The pain wracked my body, yet trying as I might in my agony, no tears flowed. Instead the only sounds emanating from my body were a continuous series of cheerful, upbeat laughs.

🤡

[midnight1nk]

because Four has a different silver locket with a picture of his computer in it, the one in Plane Trip is gold. I like the idea that he has like. A collection of lockets for all the most important people and things in his life. He’s the sentimental type yknow?

Considering the conversation started with “You got a family back home?” And then Swag brings up wife of Sonic and that’s what prompts Four to say “I know what you mean” and pull out the locket. So it would be someone Four sees as family or romantically by context. So Beeg or Three. Can’t be Mario due to Mario not being “back home”

And the Showgrounds being originally owned by Puzzles implies to me that it was his first attempt at the whole amusement park thing that he was repurposing. May or may not be a trap.

What concerns me is Four looting attractions from Puzzle park when the red flesh goop was explicitly shown to be present there.

why rizz soda on list?

(for reference, this is the tier list we're talking about ^^ also a bit of content warning??? you'll see. but Tumblr DON'T put the label istg)

4 might actually have a collection of lockets and, whether it'd be Beeg4 or 3 or someone else, it's sweet nonetheless. I honestly wouldn't be surprised of it was a picture of the Crew bc "home" doesn't necessarily have to mean The Showgrounds, could just be where they were from, 4 would be the type to consider them family. Like c'mon, if "someone" meant his PC years ago, it could literally mean anything now (though the implications of that scene may be romantic???)

If only the Team would tell us, hmmmmm. Golly gee, if only there were a few seconds to spare to show us who the hell is IN THAT LOCKETTTT /silly. And that's why it earned its place on the tier list

Hey, at least yall know another reason why 4 would be the "Phoenix Wright" in my Meggy AA au :3

Moving on with The Showgrounds real estate, that's what a lot of people speculated too and it simply makes sense 🤔 But seriously, I'm telling you, this is definitely going to come back full-circle for Puzzlevision Plus! It's gonna happen!! All chips on the table, I'm going all in. No, I don't need an intervention I'm not delusional— /j

So, anyway something about goop!4? *sits cutely* Yeah, the fact that 4 took the Puzzle Park rides back to The Showgrounds, but the fact that they're not anywhere in the Showgrounds? Like HUH. (Well, other than that 4 could barely pick up a weight but could lift up a bumper cart on each hand, but we'll leave it up to cartoon logic, it's fine.)

4, where did you put those rides? 4? FOUR? *glares at that door suspiciously*

And long at last, about the cans of rizz, this might be just as worrying as 3 drinking in the kitchen. If yall recall the episode, Mario goes in to see 4's search history and find out about the cans. The thing is that's not soda; it's hard lemonade.

If you didn't know what hard lemonade was, you do know. I only called it as soda cuz I'd like to think that this hypothetical beverage company also as a soda branch, y'know? Plus, it's more universal and friendly that way.

But yeah, this product actually exists and it seems like 4 got the cheap knock-off of it bc the OG price is almost a $100 AUD for a 16 pack. The brewery isn't called Rizz btw, that's just the name of the company. Which okay, 4 is an adult, that shouldn't make us worry. What should is the fact 4 has a pile of them right under his feet where he works, who know how many he takes per day or what is tipsy limit is!!

😨 ....how about we make rizz as soda in their universe, ok? for my sake, mostly, or this would go to the "it keeps me up at night" rank. it'd be a terrible hangover I'll tell you that smh

thanks for the ask, anon!

[chaospears]

solar the darkling

- they/she

- black arms/hedgehog hybrid, created by black doom using the dna of sonic the hedgehog

- powers: light manipulation, invisibility, chaos spear, super speed. ambient chaos energy tends to brick electronics.

- art

**lore outdated now**

- during the initial black arms invasion, black doom realised that shadow, now with almost all the chaos emeralds, was going to betray him. he created solar to both neutralise shadow, but also be used in place of the chaos emeralds in order to chaos control the black comet to earth.

- solar's creation was very rushed, and black doom didn't intend for them to survive longer than it took them to complete the ritual and destroy shadow. as a result, her chaos energy is extremely unstable. without external intervention, solar's body begins to go super and deteriorate in a destructive firey inferno.

- though their creation was rushed, shadow still defeated black doom before solar hatched from her life pod. she crashed to earth with ruins of the comet, where they remained in stasis. they weren't discovered until almost four years later, when eclipse the darkling, following a lead regarding black arms tech, came across their pod.

- during those years, solar's mind was bombarded with black doom's words, his orders; knowledge of the black arms and of her mission. the problem, however, was that he failed to tell her why. why she should care, why they should kill their brother, why earth needed to be destroyed.

- they are very excitable, she loves the earth, and their family and her friends.

- black arms siblings 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

- solar & shadow 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

- solar & sonic 1