#until i run out and then i have to draw more

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-seven —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex!!! SEX. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

It is difficult to tell who lifts the mask.

You think you start it, then he finishes it with a shove up to his nose. 

Your mouth claims his, ivy to stone.

His lips part for your tongue as your arms loop around his shoulders. His fingers dig in your scalp, sharp enough to draw a hiss, while his other arm yanks you closer by the waist, heat searing against your bare skin. It's not a kiss—too unruly for that. His tongue grazes your chin; you taste the edge of his nose. The world narrows to the harsh sound of your breathing, the scrape of your teeth, a tangible truth:

You want him, too. 

He pulls back with one great heave of breath just after the tear on your lip is reopened. A strand of pink-tinted saliva connects you. His eyes search your face, hesitation flickering in his gaze. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I clearly just did.”

His jaw tightens. “I need words. Tell me you understand what you—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and need. “Don’t act like I can’t make my own decisions. Like I can’t handle you.” Rising on your toes, you bite his lip, hard enough to draw a matching drop of blood. “I’ve handled you before—Simon."

A shudder wrenches his shoulders.

Your words rip a growl from his throat, snapping the last of his restraint.

His kiss devours you, raw and unforgiving, until everything else fades to red. Not blood, but something else, something you’ve kept hidden for longer than you care to admit. It burns in your chest—the terrifying realization that you might break if you don’t have him here and now.

His grip on your hair shifts to your thigh, lifting you with ease. Tree bark bites into your spine. You trail kisses down his jaw to the hollow below his ear. Your ankles lock around his waist, dragging up his shirt. The metal buckle of his belt presses where you ache, the friction drawing a sharp gasp. Even through the layers, he feels impossibly thick.

He forces your neck to the side, mouth sucking down your throat to your collarbone with urgent deliberation, as if he wants to memorize every inch but realizes neither of you possess the patience for it. He licks, then bites, the pain making your hips angle in upward seeking. Your reaction pulls a smirk from him. His teeth and tongue glide lower, and he hikes your damp bra up to expose your breasts.

"Fucking hell." A guttural exhale before hand and mouth devours them.

Thought evaporates.

Your chest turns sheen with spit.

You thrash against the tree, your nipple caught between his teeth. He teases it with a graze, then sinks in.

Heat punches the pit of your stomach with a ferocity that makes you cry out.

You claw at the back of his mask. "I need...I need—more."

He groans, low, staving the bite mark with his tongue. This time when he rolls the other nipple between teeth, it is in combination with two fingers slipping under your underwear. The muscles in your thigh jerk. A rough finger grinds circles into your clit, and another glides through the wet seam of you. It is impossible not to fight for more. Delirious with greed, you cant your hips down to slip his middle finger inside. 

He takes the hint and works a second finger into you. Your legs tighten around him in unending tremors that must make keeping his arm between your bodies uncomfortable, his wrist straining to reach you. Arousal leaks steadily onto his hand. You turn less vocal now that you're close, vision failing you, and he tongues at the shell of your ear with a growl.

"I'm not going to fuck you until you cum."

"I'm—"

Strong fingertips curl into the sensitive pad within you, coaxing an orgasm much stronger than the one you gave yourself. It beats through your blood in hot bursts, robbing you of the ability to keep your head up. You lean onto his shoulder, feeling it flex as he fucks his fingers once, twice, then three more times before drawing them out. Through the haze, you hear the drag of his tongue over them and then a soft wet release.

"You will give me more of that."

A flush consumes your face. Your lips part to speak; you can't—

"What happened to my mouthy girl?" he taunts in a murmur.

His tone snaps the world into focus. "She's here."

"I thought she could handle me."

You lift your head to narrow your gaze at his, despising the tick in his brow. "You are insufferable."

"Ah. There she is. I was worried I lost her."

The striking awareness that you are almost naked, while he is fully clothed head-to-toe, suddenly irritates you. You curl your fingers around the fabric bunched by his ear. "Take this off. I've already seen you. It's pointless now."

"You'll have to take it off yourself."

You’re about to move when he pins your wrist to the tree, then the other. A silent challenge. You squirm, but it only drags the belt across your sensitive cunt, making you hiss. You've been here before—restrained by him. But this time, his weakness is clear, a heavy, undeniable pressure pressing against you.

You nudge your nose against his and kiss the taste of yourself from his mouth with slow, ribbing strokes of your tongue. The change in pace makes him sigh into you. You give a swirl of your hips, grinding into him, staggering his breath. When he attempts to press again, seeking relief between the join of hip and thigh, you still your movements. He growls, squeezing your wrists. 

In his next try, you unlock your ankle and jab a knee into his ribs. 

He flinches, but doesn't loosen his grip, laughing softly. "A valiant attempt," he mutters.

"Shut up," you mumble, breath huffing out of you.

"Was that your entire plan?"

"I'm not fucking you until it's off, you know."

"Make more of an effort, then."

Fine.

You run your tongue slowly over your lip, offering a teasing shift of your hips. His throat bobs, a quick, instinctive response. Your thighs tighten around his torso, holding firm. "You are needy for this, too, Simon. Don't act like I am the only one." Your voice comes out hoarse, almost foreign. You move your hips in a steady rhythm, your lips finding the tender skin just above his collarbone. "I bet I could make you cum, just like this. You won't even need to be inside me."

It is an experiment, really, but the thundering of his heart confirms your claim. With your panties bunched to the side, your arousal glides over him, staining his jeans. He matches your movements with firm presses at the base of his clothed-cock. You taste the pulsing vein beneath your tongue, swirling and nibbling, a smoldering heat blossoming in your stomach once more.

"I touched myself thinking about you," you whisper into his skin, ego swelling when his breath stills, then rushes out from his nose. "My fingers didn't feel nearly as good as yours." You purposely moan, almost a whine. Impossibly, he feels harder. Swelling towards release. His skin feels hotter. You nose the underside of his jaw. "You're going to cum soon, aren't you? I can tell. I haven't even taken off any of your clothes yet and you're going to cum. How does it feel to be weak for me?"

His jowls flex from your words and his hips buck with a mindlessness that makes you smile. The heat between you is obliterating. It almost crumbles your vengeance. But when he digs his nails into your wrists with a slight tremble, ashen lashes fluttering, you interrupt the moment before he can finish.

You bite the skin where his throat meets his jaw and kick his ribs again. His eyes snap open, his hold faltering. He stumbles back, and you grapple his shoulders, forcing him to the ground. You fall on top of him, knees bracketing his hips, fingers moving swiftly to tear off the mask.

As you catch your breath, the air shifts.

For a few seconds, you merely stare at each other, like a deer gazing at a hunter.

Face to face, truly, for the first time.

His face, flushed red, is even more handsome like this—rugged and scarred, bared at your mercy beneath you. It makes your heart falter over a beat. His hands drag down the notches of your spine, slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact. Because you’re paying such close attention, you catch it—a sweeping glint in his gaze. Admiration, maybe. Or just lust.

You swallow thickly and give a tug to his shirt.

He rips it over his head.

You finish yanking the damp bra off.

Your underwear is next.

When you're both bare, exposed and raw, jeans bunched awkwardly at his ankles, the game ends. Neither of you are willing to play anymore. His fingers tighten around your hips as you grip his cock, heavy and slick with the evidence of the edge he was pulled from. You drag the fat head of him through your folds, just once, before lining him up with your hole and sinking down.

Pain flares. Either because it has been years since you've been stretched like this, or because he is just that thick. You hiss through your teeth and pause halfway down, scratching over the hard plane of his chest in search of relief. You feel him deep already, uncomfortably so, and his touch softens over your skin despite the veins sticking out in his neck.

"Take it slow."

"I can handle it."

"It's alright if you can't," his voice softens over the gravel in it.

"I can."

Stubbornly, you take another centimeter, then another, before slamming all the way down, the full length of him breaking through the last layer of resistance until you are fully seated. The press of his fingers into your ass is as rough as the exhale that follows. You feel him twitch within you, his balls heavy and tight, but he allows you the time to adjust, slowly rocking your hips until the discomfort teeters toward pleasure.

He is so big that the tip of him reaches a crevice between your inner wall and cervix. When your pace quickens, the pressure of his pubic bone on your clit makes your body quake with one fierce tremor. You fail to keep yourself upright, the jolt of it bringing your face to his neck. Strong arms flex around you, hands bracing your shoulder blades, to keep you anchored against his chest as his hips cant up to drive him—somehow—deeper. He is in you and around you. All at once. Every inch of grey rot living in you is replaced with damning hunger for him. You swirl and grind and bite his neck, breaking capillaries. 

"That's it, yeah." The raw grit in his voice makes your muscles clench around the base of him. "Take what you need." 

When his firm, neatly corded muscles begin to quiver, his movements lose their precision. He is trying to hold back from the ledge you left him on. His hand tangles in your hair, yanking you back from his neck, and his teeth sink into the tender skin below your ear as a distraction. His breaths come hot and quick, cooling the sweat slicking your skin.

You feel like a conglomerate of broken pieces about to be shattered, every carefully stitched seam straining, ready to snap. Your eyes roll back. Your toes flex and curl. You are so close—

Without warning, and all too soon, he lifts you off. 

"Fuck—"

His cock bobs between your bodies, liquid heat frothing over your stomach in pulses. His eyes are screwed shut, lips parted to let out a noisy rush of air, all of the hardened lines on his face unwoven in the wake of pleasure. You hover over him, blades of grass indented into your knees, watching with silent fascination despite the frustrated fizzle of your own approaching orgasm. When his eyes reopen, they are glazed and unfocused, yet somehow he had more wherewithal to remember pulling out than you did.

Then, he flips you over with a heaving push, cock still hard. You are neatly caged by the sprawl of his muscle, reminded that he easily could've overtaken you before if he wanted to.

"I can go again." It sounds as if he has to dig the words out with great effort, still breathless. 

You reach between your bodies to keep his slippery cock at bay near your thigh. "We can't. It wouldn't be safe after you just—just came."

His lashes flutter in resignation, a firm nod as he dips his head to your collarbones. He rests it there for a moment, likely ignoring the ache in his cock that vies for more attention, and you stare down at the flexing brawn of his back, at the firm swell of his ass. Then he kisses your sternum, over your heart, and sucks his way down the soft curve of your abdomen, gentle, chapped lips against faded bruises.  

When he reaches the raw flesh between your thighs, he lifts your legs and urges your feet on his back. His nose nudges your clit, inhaling deeply the scent of where you'd just been joined, and your breath hitches in anticipation. 

He kisses you here, a curious circle of his tongue around your clit that mimics his finger, before sliding through the slippery seam. When you fist his hair and dig your heels into his shoulders, his gentleness ceases. He closes his entire mouth on you, working furiously to reignite the heat from your spine, which arches off the ground in desperation, driving your puffy cunt harder against the pad of muscle. You grind your hips in combination with pulling on his hair, keeping his tongue right where you need it. It strokes your hole, pushing in and out.

"That's so good, Ghost. So good. I'm—"

You cum hard on his tongue, free hand fisting the grass. It is less of a precipice that you fall off of, and more a crashing wave, like the one you nearly drowned in, but this time you let it sweep you, searing white through the backs of your eyelids. He keeps his tongue there to catch the leakage with an obscenely wet sound you barely hear over the ringing in your ears. By the time it fades, you feel wrecked, spit out on the shore, your mind blank. The wave recedes. 

You hear a soft grunt and then his forehead drops on your sticky belly. The tremor in his shoulders indicates his own release, which he emptied in the grass.

You lay together like this for minutes.

Fingers mindless against his scalp.

Staring at the sky.

Awareness slowly seeps in as the sound of fluttering birds and the quiet ripples over the creak. 

The hum of life returns around you. You'd almost forgotten where you were or how you got here. How long has it been? Your fingers slacken in his hair as you gaze around, the silent trees your only witness, and the sun beginning to dip toward the horizon. The understanding sinks in that you are both absent, and returning together at dark would—

The thought is tucked away when strong arms lift you up, scooping under the crook of your knees.

He is able to walk steadily even when you aren't certain you could.

He carries the mess of your body to the water. The peaceful warmth of it converges over you, highlighting the soreness that you were able to ignore in the throes of it all. Wordlessly, and with a thoughtful crease between his brow, he holds you up with one arm while scrubbing your stomach with the other, rinsing off his essence. It is not an uncomfortable silence, just a thick one, only broken by little drips of water as he cleans you with more intent than you did the first time.

You try to piece together everything in your mind, but the thoughts slip through your fingers like the water. You don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling—a stark contrast to the clarity you found in the heat of him only minutes ago. His body has always been the more decipherable part of him, but now even the stiffness in his shoulders feels like a cipher you can’t crack.

When he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your damp hair, it doesn’t feel affectionate, exactly. It’s not distant, either—just tender in a way you’re not sure how to interpret. The gnawing questions fill your brain: When was the last time he did this with someone? How many more times will you do it together? Not just once, he said. But what does that mean?

Why do you feel hesitant to ask, even though you were just brindled with confidence while riding his cock?

You try to wipe his own stomach but he brushes your fingers away and does it himself, nodding his chin toward your clothes. "Get dressed. You'll go first."

"Huh?"

"They think I am scouting up ahead right now. I'll be back later."

"Oh," you say, not able to conjure a meaningful response.

He raises an eyebrow at you but offers nothing else except a gentle thumbing over hair that sticks to your cheek. You follow his directions, returning to the grassy bank while the cool air prickles your wet skin. You feel his heavy stare as he watches you towel off, trying to ignore the obvious marks on your hips, stomach, ass, and collarbones. They taunt you with a blush to your cheeks. Luckily, when you slip on the oversized shirt, the majority of them are concealed, your hair finishing the job of covering your neck.

You've no idea what hour it could be when you return, feigning nonchalance, but the setting sun means Ghost won't be out there much longer. In his absence, you feel colder than the temperature truly is. The deep ache that ebbs and flows with each step proves him right. There is no going back after this. No—you will still be able to feel him, like a phantom, even when the soreness between your legs fades. What you are meant to do about that fact is something you can sort through later when you have the state of mind for it. 

Will you ever have the state of mind for it?

You push the voice away and keep your gaze lowered as you approach Nereida, returning the borrowed soaps. The others are gathered around the fire—Kyle eating, Blue and Ari laughing about something, while Price hunches over the map, finalizing tomorrow’s route.

"Was it relaxing?" she asks.

"Hm?"

You blink, bringing your gaze to her, and only now realizing that it is still rather droopy and blurred, the look in her eyes barely in focus as she tilts her head. "Your bath," she clarifies.

"Oh. Mhm." You nod, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, it was just what I needed. I'm actually, um, rather tired now. I think I will sleep early."

She drags her eyes over you, causing your weight to shift, before she returns the smile. "Sounds like a good idea. Long day tomorrow. You should eat first, though."

"Right," you concede, tongue to cheek.

Ghost returns in the midst of you shoveling beans into your mouth, knees tucked to your chest in front of the flames, and his silence as usual. He reports to Price about the clear motorway, his voice clinical, but you catch the subtle roughness beneath it—something no one else would notice, the only detectable trace of what you shared. What you told Nereida wasn't a lie, you feel robbed of energy, and can hardly muster the strength to tie your dried hair in two braids before tucking yourself in a sleeping bag, staring dazedly at the oncoming stars. 

[covenofagatha]

hey!! can you do one where you run into professor agatha at the library while doing homework and it ends with her making you sit on her cock without moving while you study and you're impatient and she ends up fucking you right there in thar secluded corner (with lots of overstimulation and daddy kink if you're comfortable with that?)

Inspiration struck for this one today so hope everyone enjoys

I just started a new semester so probably won't be posting as much but I will do my best to keep writing and putting stuff out regularly. Also will be pausing any Agathario x reader fics for the moment

Learning to focus

When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: public sex, GP Agatha, fingering, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstimulation, it really was agatha all along, slight humiliation?, hints of degradation

The Westview University campus library is always packed, so you usually opt for the local library about twenty minutes away from the school. 

Much quieter and way less crowded. 

And you don’t have to worry about running into any failed situationships or crazy roommates from past years. 

Plus it’s a really nice library, two stories with long glass windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Even when you don’t have school work, you often enjoy coming here just to read or play on your computer. It’s a peaceful place, a place that lets you just relax and forget about the outside world and all the stress you feel. 

Stress mainly from one class. Your history class. 

Professor Agatha Harkness was the only one who taught U.S. History when your schedule could allow it, which meant you had to ignore all the bad reviews on RateMyProfessor.com, because you had no other option. 

On the first day, you could see exactly where they came from. 

One boy had shown up five minutes late, practically a miracle on the first day of classes, stammering an excuse about how bad traffic was, Professor Harkness had fixed him with a glare and told him that he better drop the class. 

You were just thankful that you had a class before hers, otherwise you would’ve been late, too. 

She was just as mean and ruthless and cold as everyone said she’d be. Her assignments were almost outrageous and she graded them so harshly it was honestly impressive you weren’t failing yet. 

But the one thing the reviews forgot to mention was how attractive she is. Her long, dark hair that she’d often keep back in a ponytail. Her sharp blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean on a dark night. Her high cheekbones, her pointed nose, her wicked smirk, honestly, everything about her. 

You suppose the more impressive thing is that you aren’t failing with how often you get distracted by the way her fingers on her left hand tighten around the dry-erase marker when she’s drawing time-lines on the board. When she sways her hips and flexes her knuckles which tightens her veins, you feel a tugging in your gut and you have to bite your lip. 

And you definitely should not be noticing the bulge in her pants when she sits back with her legs spread in her chair while the class is taking an exam. 

You have an optimal seat, all the way to the right of her desk and in the front row, so you can take her in without her noticing you too much. 

If anyone looked too closely at you, they’d assume you were sweating because of the forty-five multiple choice and five written questions you had to answer in only a little over an hour. 

That wasn’t it. 

You swore she saw you looking one time, one particular day when she was wearing a blue flannel and loose fitting cargo pants. You were staring, so completely distracted when you should’ve been taking notes that you didn’t even notice she had dismissed the class. 

It wasn’t until you finally realized that she was stalking toward you that you had fucked up. You had swallowed roughly and moved to shove your stuff into your bag when she had put her hands on your desk and leaned in, causing you to completely forget how to breathe. 

“You seemed a little preoccupied there,” she murmured in a low voice, her hint of cologne tickling your nose. “Try to pay better attention next time. Don’t want to have to teach you a lesson.”

You had promptly nodded and almost ran to your dorm to fuck yourself to the thought of her teaching you a very different kind of lesson. 

Professor Harkness is in your head, and you can’t get her out no matter how hard you try. Except right now, you really need to focus, because the end-of-semester project is due in a week and you haven’t started. 

Did she give you the entire four months of the course to complete it? Yes. But you have never been good at working ahead or at time management. 

She had assigned a ten page paper along with a hand-drawn timeline about something that had happened in the history of the United States. You had picked the Salem Witch Trials, and Professor Harkness had winked when you got the topic approved by her. 

So you’re about to spend the next probably five hours in the library trying to make some headway on this project. The timeline should be easy, but it’s the paper you’re worried about. 

You go up the stairs and wind through the aisles of books on the second floor until you get to your secluded corner, the one you always go to, the one with a small table and two chairs hidden by bookshelves and gasp. 

Your favorite spot has been taken by none other than Professor Harkness. She’s sitting in the chair you usually sit in, pen between her teeth, staring at papers. 

When she looks up, she doesn’t even seem surprised to see you and a slow grin spreads over her face. 

“Professor, what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the straps on your tote bag. Should you go somewhere else?

She chuckles. “In a public library in the town where I live?” 

Your cheeks burn. “Right. Um, I’ve just never seen you here before.” And then you inwardly kick yourself because now it sounds like you’ve been on the lookout. 

“Wanted to get out of the house,” she shrugs. “Have some papers to grade for that project due next week. How’s yours coming?” 

“Oh, really good,” you lie, shifting your weight and trying to think of a quick way to get out of this conversation. “Almost done. Well, I don’t want to bother–” 

She interrupts you by sliding the chair out next to her and patting it. “Why don’t you come show me what you have? I can give you some help, free of charge.” She winks, a glint in her eyes, and it makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, Professor, that’s not necessary,” you say nervously but she tsks and waves dismissively. 

“Please, call me Agatha. It’s the weekend and we’re off campus. Now, come sit.” She makes it clear it’s an order and you gulp before taking the seat. Even being this close to her is affecting your body and you know there’s absolutely no way you’re getting anything done. 

She’s currently grading a paper about the Boston Massacre and it’s drenched in red ink. You’re not sure which you feel more of: annoyance at your over-achieving classmates or absolute dread for how Agatha is going to react when she finds out that you haven’t even started and, even worse, lied about it. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. “So, the thing is…” You trail off, reaching down to pull out your laptop. You set it on the table and slowly open it, silently begging for the floor underneath you to open up and swallow you whole. 

Anything would be better than this humiliation. 

“Yeah?” Agatha breathes, suddenly much closer to you. You will your eyes to not look away from the computer screen and type in your password, praying that you didn’t leave anything that embarrassing up. 

It opens up to the blank document titled Salem Witch Trials, just so it’s clear to Agatha what exactly this page was supposed to be. 

You’d rather it have been porn. 

Your professor chuckles slowly next to you. “Thought you were almost done?” She simpers in that gruff voice that drives you wild. “Did you get distracted again?” 

Agatha leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, and perching her head in her hand so she can peer at you. Your eyes glance over to meet hers and then back to your computer, but in your peripheral vision, you can see her body tilt toward yours and her legs open just the slightest. 

Your mouth runs dry and you make a pointed effort not to look between them. 

“What’s gotten you so preoccupied, babygirl?” She asks and you clench around nothing at the shift in tone and the pet name. Holy fuck. “I’ve seen you staring in class, you know. You’re not very subtle at all.” 

Forget being swallowed by the floor, you might just combust out of pure embarrassment. 

You try to stammer out something, an apology maybe, sorry for wanting to fuck you, Professor, but no sounds come out of your mouth. Her other hand comes up and teases a lock of your hair and you finally work up the courage to look at her. 

Agatha’s eyes are heated and dark, all the blue practically gone, and her lips are parted just so. And then you flick your eyes down to between her legs involuntarily and you have to bite back a whimper because she’s fucking hard. 

You can see her length through her navy pants and your brain short-circuits. Agatha likes this. Agatha likes you. 

“Is that what gets you all hot and bothered? Can’t focus because you’re too busy staring at me?” Agatha asks, hand dropping to palm herself. She gives her dick a quick stroke and lets out a tight sigh and you have to hold onto the table to steady yourself. 

Heat rushes through your body in an almost unbearable way. “Yes,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Agatha takes her hand off herself and taps a finger to her lips. “Hmm,” she draws out thoughtfully. You can feel a puddle growing in your underwear. “You know, I’m used to the crushes. Doesn’t even phase me anymore, usually it’s college girls who are just so desperate for attention. Not getting it anywhere else and they think that their fifty year old professor will be into them.” 

Your jaw clenches. Is this the part where she rejects you? 

But Agatha smirks and looks you up and down, takes in your squirming body in the chair. “And I never have even considered it. Until you. None of them have been as delicious as you, pet.” 

And it makes your head spin. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance when your hand grabs onto her thigh and Agatha lets out a low moan. 

“Please,” you say, desperation in your voice. What are you asking for? You don’t even think you know. 

Agatha tuts. “Do you really think you deserve anything? This paper is due in a week and you haven’t even started. Doesn’t seem like you should get a reward for procrastinating, does it?” 

“It’s not my fault,” you whine before you can even think about it. There’s something about this side of Agatha specifically that makes your mind turn to mush. 

She raises an eyebrow like she’s daring you to say that again. “I think you need to learn how to keep that pretty head of yours focused.” She nods to the computer screen. “Make an outline.”

You swallow roughly and straighten up, putting your hands on the keyboard. You’ve just switched tabs and begun googling “Salem Witch Trials” when Agatha’s hand lands on your upper thigh. 

You freeze and glance at her out of the corner of your eye to find her scribbling another note on the paper in front of her. You don’t know how she’s so calm and collected when you feel like your entire body is on fire. 

“Focus,” she tells you in that deep voice of hers and you click on the first result that comes up as her fingers begin to toy with the hem of your skirt. 

You try, you really do try, but it’s so fucking hard to read the words on the screen when she’s inching closer and closer to your underwear, which you can feel is absolutely drenched. 

And soon enough, she’s going to feel it, too. You can almost hear her dark laugh already when she realizes just how affected you are. 

Her fingertips brush against you and instead of laughing, she gasps. “Oh, pet, no wonder you never pay attention in class,” she coos and a thrill runs through you despite how embarrassed you are. She effortlessly finds your clit through the fabric and rubs it and you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 

“Agatha,” you say under your breath and you can practically hear her smirking. Why is it so hot that she is still grading the paper as she starts to run her fingers up and down your pussy over your underwear? She dips in at your entrance and a muffled groan tears itself out of your mouth. 

“Is this what you’re like while I’m teaching, too?” She muses conversationally, but you look down just in time to see her cock twitch in her pants. It makes you feel even more exhilarated, knowing she’s just as affected. But then she moves your panties to the side and slides her fingers through your folds and you forget any train of thought you had. You really hope your wetness isn’t as loud as it sounds. “Dripping for me like a little slut? Getting yourself all worked up when I’m talking about the Declaration of Independence? It’s pathetic.” 

You whimper, maybe in agreement, maybe at how good it feels when she pushes a finger into you, but her eyes slightly glaze over at the feeling of your warm walls around her. 

“God, Agatha,” you moan, your own hand coming down to wrap around her wrist when she starts moving. You can feel her flexing with each thrust and your tongue presses against your cheek as you breathe heavily, leaning toward her. 

She presses a quick kiss to your head and scrapes her teeth against your ear before hotly whispering, “Better be quiet, babygirl. And focus. Or I’ll stop.”

You manage to type out three bullet points worth of information when she slips another finger into you and you clamp a hand over your mouth before you moan obscenely. 

Agatha leans over to read what you have so far. “Who was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft?” She asks and you realize that you never finished that sentence. 

“Bridget Bishop,” you gasp, and she swipes at your clit as a reward, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

You continue to type, hoping it’s making sense because you can’t even comprehend the words, while Agatha continues to twist her fingers inside you roughly and rub your clit. You can feel your orgasm slowly building, and it only makes it worse every time Agatha hums right into your ear at something you’ve written. Your walls are clenching around her, trying to draw her even further into you, and she can tell you’re getting close, you’re going to cum so quickly around her fingers. 

“There we go pet, such a good girl for Daddy,” she says into your ear and you spasm all around her, the name sending you right over the edge. 

Who knew you’d like that so much? 

Apparently Agatha did, who grins like a cat getting her cream as she fucks you through your orgasm with her fingers, keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. You taste blood from biting your lip so hard but you manage to keep quiet and you finally come down from your high. 

But it’s not enough, you need more, and judging by the straining of Agatha’s cock against her pants, she needs more, too. 

You move to touch her but she slaps your hand away. “Not yet,” she growls and it sends another blast of heat through you. You think there might be a wet spot on the chair underneath you. 

It only makes it worse when she reaches down and undoes her own belt, fiddles with the button exasperatedly, and finally unzips her pants. She reaches inside and your jaw drops open when she pulls out her hard and leaking cock. It’s big, big enough to make your mouth water, and it almost looks painful. Agatha gives herself a few strokes, hips jumping, and she hisses when she rubs her thumb over the tip. 

“Think you can focus while you sit on Daddy’s cock, babygirl?” She taunts. You’ve never felt so empty in your life, you need her so bad, and she’s right there. 

You almost want to bend down and take her into your mouth, taste her hard cock. 

“I asked you a question,” she reminds you roughly, slapping your thigh to get your attention. The sting makes you jump. “God, you really do get distracted easily.” 

You mumble an apology, cheeks flushing. “I can focus, I promise,” you say, trying to sound convincing, but neither of you believe it. Regardless, she smirks and pats her legs and you do a cautious sweep of the surrounding area. This is incredibly dangerous and if you get caught, you both will get in serious trouble. 

But for some reason, the thrill of getting caught only turns you on more. 

So you stand up and straddle her and sit down, taking her cock in one fell swoop. She goes in easy with how wet you are and you bottom out in her lap, the both of you groaning quietly with restraint. 

“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Agatha huff and you squeeze your walls around her in response. It makes her thrust up and you inhale sharply at the feeling. She is so big and you can feel her throbbing inside you. “Better keep working.” 

You lean forward slowly to move your laptop closer, the stretch absolutely delicious and she chuckles when you gasp as you settle back onto her. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist and you really do try to be good and focus, but every so often, she shifts beneath you and it hits that spot so deep inside you and you can’t help but squirm to try and get more. 

Would she notice if you slowly start moving? Most likely, but it’s worth the risk. You give the gentlest roll of your hips and Agatha moans low into your ear before her fingernails dig into your hips through your skirt to still you. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispers dangerously so you’re forced to sit without moving on her cock that is filling you up better than anything ever has before. 

It’s sweet torture and you write a few more sentences before you can feel your wetness dripping down her cock and out of you. Every so often, you’ll clench around her, too, completely involuntarily, of course, and she’ll buck into you like she can’t help it while breathing suddenly. You’re not sure how much longer of this you can take, the ache spreading everywhere in your body and absolutely ruining you. 

“Agatha,” you whine again, begging, starting to move despite her death-like grip on your waist. 

She moves your hair to the side and nips at your neck. “Yes, babygirl?” 

“Can you please–” you begin, frustration leaking into your voice, tears pricking in your eyes. “Can you please move? Please, I need it so bad. I’m trying so hard to focus, please, can you fuck me? Daddy–”

Turns out, all you needed to convince her was to call her that, because she finally breaks and starts thrusting her hips up and pounding her cock into you. Your hand flies over your mouth and you bite onto a finger to stop yourself from crying out and you wish you weren’t in a library right now, rather be in the comfort of Agatha’s bed or car or office or anywhere but here, so you could be as loud as you want. 

“Let’s see if you’re still distracted after Daddy fucks all the thoughts out of your head,” she snaps and fuck, you’re already so close after cockwarming her for those few minutes. She reaches around you with a hand to circle your clit, which is already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a muffled sound escapes you. Agatha laughs breathlessly and you strain your ears to hear if anyone is coming near you – not that you could do anything about it now – but there’s nothing. 

Thank god this is a relatively empty library, especially at this time of the day, and that the two of you are tucked away in the back where it’s hard to see normally. 

Agatha’s thrusts are getting so powerful that you’re forced to put your hands out on the table for balance which means it gets a lot harder to control your noises. But your professor, ever the problem-solver, comes up with a solution. 

She slides two fingers into your mouth so you can suck on them and so your moans are stifled. Agatha presses her fingers against your tongue, scrapes her nails against it, and draws them out before shoving them back in, effectively fucking both your mouth and your pussy. 

“You feel so good, babygirl, so fucking tight,” she pants into your ear and you gag when she pushes her fingers down your throat. 

It’s so much, so much stimulation from her cock and her fingers and the fact that you’re being fucked in a public library where anyone could see that your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and it’s explosive. You sink your teeth into her skin and she moans, almost being louder before she remembers to control herself. 

You need a moment to collect yourself, but she doesn’t give it to you; instead, she shoves you off her lap and stands up right behind you without her cock ever leaving your body. 

Agatha bends you over the table, hand pressing against your back, and you have just enough awareness to move your laptop out of the way before she sets a bruising pace. The table must be bolted down to the floor or something, because it thankfully doesn’t move. 

Agatha grunts softly with each thrust and you can feel her twitching inside you even though it feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire. 

“Daddy, I don’t know if I can again,” you quietly sob, the pleasure fraying your mind, the sensitivity of your clit making you gasp when she rubs it. You feel like you’re drifting away from your body, dizziness swarming your head. “Too much,” you babble. 

But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up her speed and tears fall from your eyes. “You can, babygirl, I know you can. You can take it – fuck, you feel so good around me.” 

Agatha losing her composure because of you, just knowing you have that kind of affect on someone usually so cold and unaffected, is starting to build your orgasm back up. 

“Daddy,” you whine, trying to be as quiet as you can. Her rhythm is starting to falter, she’s throbbing and twitching and cursing, fingers scrambling for purchase on your hips, and you know she’s getting close. 

“So perfect, babygirl,” she mutters and you know she’s refraining from being louder, too. “I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since the first day when you walked into my classroom wearing that short skirt.” 

The confession makes you clench and a gasp escapes your lips. You’re climbing closer and closer to the edge and Agatha isn’t far behind. 

“Knew I had to have you,” she keeps going and your body is practically vibrating. 

She’s pounding into you so deep, filling you so good, her cock dragging against your walls in the best way. Her ragged words are getting to her, too; you can tell in the way her thrusts become shallower and shorter like she can’t do anything more. 

You’d make a quip about her being distracted but you can’t form a sentence right now. Every thought in your head is gone. 

“Daddy knows you come here,” she continues and your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even think you can understand her. You’re close, so close. “Knew you hadn’t started on the project. Knew you’d be here – fuck, babygirl.” She breaks off with a sharp inhale as you squeeze around her at her words. 

This whole thing was planned. She’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted her. And now she’s fucking you against a table in a library because of it. 

She reaches around and rubs your clit and that’s it. 

You cum all over her cock, walls convulsing around her, and she quickly follows, pumping her cum into you. You feel her warmth spreading through you and it makes you gasp. 

Thankfully she pulls out because you truly can’t take anymore and she slides your underwear back into place before her cum can drip down your legs. She turns you around after zipping her pants back up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” She murmurs and you weakly nod. “Is that pretty head of yours clear now? Think you can focus?” 

The question makes you laugh. There are no thoughts left in your head whatsoever. “You do know that I’m only going to be thinking about this in your classes right? You just made the problem ten times worse.” 

Agatha smirks and taps under your chin. “Tell you what, pet. For each day early you turn this project in, that’s one more reward you’ll get.” 

And even though you’re completely worn out, your clit pulses at the thought of more. 

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Agatha asks sweetly. You nod eagerly, your brain suddenly able to piece together how you’re going to structure your paragraphs, and she chuckles. “It’s all about finding the right motivation. I look forward to seeing your final project.” She winks, packs up her stuff, and then walks away. 

You sit down in the chair, making a mental note to clean that and the table before you leave, and open your laptop back up. 

Cracking your knuckles, you get to work, suddenly able to focus so much better now. 

[gtgbabie0]

{Werewolf!Girlfriend!Vi who gets extra needy when a full moon is approaching}

I indeed got freaky with it again. !!-18//MDNI-!!

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Fuck the moon and its stupid ass phases. Vi hates it, the way it messes up with her hormones and emotions— her body clock all wonky. It’s a grasp that she can’t escape from no matter what she takes from those crazy quack doctors who have huddled themselves up in the nooks and crannies of Zaun, it always costs a pretty penny too. Money she didn’t have to be quite frank.

It leaves her with this dull throb at the base of her spine, an ache that slowly snakes around her body threatening to eat her whole. You're the only one who can subdue her better than those ointments and tea herbs- that honestly do more harm than good.

That’s why she’s staggering into your room through ragged breaths, using the pale moonlight that peaks through your curtains as guidance, the same taunting light that drips over your pretty face like some sort of beacon, calling her to you. Vi stumbles onto your bed— her face pressed into the soft fabric of your pillows that was absolutely drenched with the scent of you, which only fuels the fire in her.

Vi hated to wake you up, really she did, but she needed you, more than she had ever before… and okay maybe she says that every time but can you really blame her?

Either way, There’s no hesitation in how she shuffles closer to you, smushing her face into the crook of your neck with a low and desperate groan— big, rough hands pawing at your hips from above the blanket. “Please wake up baby, please, please.” Whispered from your neck until your pretty eyes are fluttering open.

The ticklish feeling of her ears twitching against your face keeps you from slipping back into dreamland, that and the way her hands had now disappeared beneath the covers to touch you— bandaged palms exploring the soft curves and dips of your body, slipping under your sleep shirt.

“Vi?— what time is it?” You huff groggily, turning your head to the side to try and look at your clock through bleary. She cups your jaw, turning your head back to her with a small, sheepish smile.“Don’t worry bout that,” her tone is draped in a heady whine of pure need.

Your brain was foggy and the situation wasn’t quite hitting you yet— you just kinda stare up at her in confusion. She lets out a low groan when you don’t immediately start giving her the attention she so clearly wants. Dropping her body on top of yours, looking down at you with glossy blue eyes— plump lips pursed out in a small pout as a whimper builds up in the back of her throat. “Do something, anything, please.” She sniffles, letting her head fall against your chest. “Need you.”

“What do you need hmm, puppy?” Oh god, ‘puppy?’… now you were just being mean weren’t you?

Her ears pin back, tail thwipping against your shin as she presses her face back into your neck— nosing at your jaw, inhaling you deeply. “Mmf, you. Your hands… can you, please?” She’s almost incoherent, drunk on desperation.

A shiver runs down her body, prickling at her skin as you drag your fingertips through her hair, gently scratching against her scalp and behind her ears that twitch against your palm happily. You’re hitting all the sensitive spots, the spots that draw pitiful sounds from her lips— oh the way she whines your name, nudging her head into your hand.

“Hngg, right there— there.” She huffs, breaths coming out in sharp, ragged pants when you hit that spot— the one that has her melting into your body, a dead weight draped over you, with her cheek smushed against your chest.

Vi, not so subtly, shifts her hips against your own— trying to grind against you all clumsily as you continue to pet over her head and ears. Then her fingers are curling around the waistband of your shorts, “Vi?… what’re you—” your hand stops as she fists the flimsy fabric, tugging them off with a huff.

“M’sorry baby… sorry, I just— I can smell you, s’not fair.” she pleads, taking a fistful of your thighs and pushing them down against the mattress— sharp canines on show as her hungry eyes drink in the sight of you, spread out, wet cunt glistening all for her. “Oh, ffffuck— pretty girl. S'all mine, yeah?” The words are drawled out in a groan.

“Mhm, yours Vi.” you agree, caving in as she presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth as if that'll make up for waking you up at this ungodly hour. You're positive you won't care in a couple of minutes.

Vi nips at the curve of your jaw as she crawls over you to grind her cunt onto yours. The fabric of her boxers are slick with a mixture of her and you— she’s completely lost in the feeling of your clits rubbing together, the way she can feel the throb of your pussy through her underwear and the breathy sounds you're making, it was so dizzying. The hot feeling of desperation so tightly coiled around her that she didn’t care about anything else except for her release, rutting against your cunt carelessly to chase after what she needed.

“Oh, Vi— mfm, take it easy puppy.” You gasp, hands grasping at her hips in a pointless attempt to slow her down— her movements borderline erratic.

She shakes her head, shoving her face into the crook of your neck with a broken cry of pleasure as she continues to rock her clothed cunt against yours, hands pawing at your thighs. “Can’t— I can’t, fuck— I can’t. I’m sorry, ahh!” She pants into the underside of your jaw, words muffled hotly into your skin as her orgasm washes over her, hips stuttering against yours before she goes boneless over the top of you in relief.

“S’okay pup… you’re okay—” you coo, slightly breathless, as you reach to pet the back of her head weakly. Vi doesn’t even give you a minute to catch your breath before she’s pushing herself back, shuffling her boxers off to reveal that damn trail of dark red hair before climbing back over you with a wolfish grin, whispering a lazy, “You’re so good to me pretty girl.” — and oh god, you were in for a long night.

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[iamgonnagetyouback]

childhood sweethearts and paper rings

james potter x reader where you both realize your love through paper rings

↬ word count : 3,438 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : fluff overload, pining, a sprinkle of angst but resolved quickly, excessive paper rings

↬ inspired from : (a bit) ➺ paper rings by taylor swift ♡

↬ author's note : childhood best friends to lovers is james potter’s ultimate trope. argue with the wall.

navigation┆james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

James Potter was seven years old when he decided that he was going to marry you. He didn’t understand much about marriage—only that it meant you’d be together forever, which sounded like the best thing in the world. After all, you were his best friend, and if forever wasn’t you, then who else could it be for?

The Potters and your family were close friends, and most weekends, you were bundled into the fireplace to floo to their house. James would meet you on the other side, grinning wildly and already tugging your arm to drag you outside. The two of you were inseparable, whether you were building forts in the garden or chasing each other around with toy brooms.

“Sunny, you’re supposed to catch it!” James exclaimed one summer afternoon as he tossed a quaffle your way. His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them up impatiently.

“I’m trying!” you yelled back, laughing as the ball sailed past your outstretched arms. You were too busy giggling to notice James running to retrieve it. He came back with dirt on his knees and his hair even messier than usual.

“We’ll practice until you’re as good as me,” he declared, puffing out his chest in mock importance.

You scrunched up your nose, sticking your tongue out at him. “What if I don’t want to be good at Quidditch? What if I want to be the best cake-eater in the world?”

James grinned, his own cheeks turning pink. “Then I’ll be the second-best. We can do it together.”

By the time you were eight, James had discovered the fine art of crafting paper rings. It started when he saw his mum making origami flowers for a party. Naturally, he wasn’t allowed near the good parchment—but his dad handed him some scraps, and the rest was history.

The first paper ring James gave you was lopsided, crumpled at the edges, and had a faint ink smudge from where he’d tried to draw a flower on it. You’d accepted it with wide, delighted eyes, slipping it onto your finger like it was made of gold.

“What’s this for?” you’d asked, holding it up to inspect the crooked folds.

��It’s…” James hesitated, suddenly bashful. “It’s a promise. You’re my best friend, and I’ll always be there for you.”

You grinned so brightly he thought his chest might burst. “I’ll always be there for you too, Jamie!” you chirped, and the name stuck, much to his parents’ amusement.

At nine, you and James built a treehouse. Or at least, you started to. James had insisted on using magic, and after much begging and wheedling, his mum had charmed a few planks of wood into place.

“It’ll be our secret hideout,” James said as you hammered nails into the rickety ladder.

“For what?” you asked, holding the ladder steady. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and there was a streak of mud on your cheek, but you couldn’t have been happier.

“For… secret plans,” James decided. “Like how we’ll sneak extra pudding without anyone noticing.”

You beamed. “And maybe we can put all the paper rings here too. Like a treasure chest!”

He thought that was the best idea ever.

By ten, James had made you more paper rings than either of you could count. Some were decorated with little doodles, others with clumsy attempts at flowers or hearts. You kept them all in a shoebox under your bed, treasuring them like the precious artifacts they were.

One rainy afternoon, you and James sat cross-legged on the rug in his room, watching the droplets streak down the window.

“Sunny,” James said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you know what love is?”

You tilted your head, considering. “Not really. I think it’s when someone makes you really happy. Like my mum when she bakes my favorite cookies.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I think it’s when someone does things for you. Like… like when you gave me the bigger half of your pie last week.”

You grinned, your toothy smile making his cheeks heat up. “Then I think love is when you gave me your scarf when I was cold.”

He grinned back, lopsided and bright. “Maybe love is when we’re best friends forever.”

When you turned eleven, everything began to change. A letter arrived, delivered by an official-looking owl, and James practically dragged you across the room to celebrate.

“We’re going to Hogwarts together!” he exclaimed, lifting you off the ground in his excitement. “This is going to be the best year ever!”

You squealed, clutching onto him as he spun you around. “Jamie, I’m so excited!”

Later that day, he gave you another paper ring. It was neater this time, folded carefully with gold-trimmed parchment he’d begged off his mum.

“This one’s special,” James said solemnly as you slipped it onto your finger.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Because it’s the last one before Hogwarts,” he said. “But I’ll make you loads more when we’re there.”

You beamed, clutching the ring to your chest. “Best friends forever?”

“Forever,” he promised.

And that was the thing about James Potter. Even when he didn’t fully understand what love was, he knew one thing: it was always going to be you.

At Hogwarts, you quickly became part of the infamous Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and you. Whether it was sneaking into the kitchens for late-night snacks or plotting pranks on the Slytherins, the five of you were inseparable.

James had a knack for getting the group into trouble, and you had a knack for talking your way out of it.

“It’s not my fault Snape looks so funny when his robes turn pink,” James argued one day, as you all hid in an empty classroom after a particularly successful prank.

“You used an entire bottle of dye,” Remus pointed out dryly, though he was biting back a smile.

“Totally worth it,” Sirius said, high-fiving James.

Peter chuckled nervously. “Do you think he’ll ever figure out it was us?”

“Who cares?” you said, laughing. “Jamie, you’re brilliant.”

James beamed at your praise, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face.

But while James was fearless in most things, there was one subject that turned him into a bumbling mess: Lily Evans, although you understood the feeling, cause she was gorgeous.

“Merlin’s beard, just look at her,” James sighed dreamily one afternoon as the five of you sat under a tree by the Black Lake. Lily was a few yards away, reading a book and flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re staring again,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

James turned red. “I am not!”

“You absolutely are,” Sirius chimed in, smirking. “If you’re going to pine, at least do it with some dignity, Prongs.”

“I’m not pining!” James protested, though his voice cracked slightly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You drew a heart with her initials in your Transfiguration notes yesterday.”

“I did not!” James said, horrified.

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “You did. I saw it too.”

You burst out laughing, leaning into James as he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Jamie, it’s okay to have a crush. Especially if it's on Evans. I do too but the difference is you’re terrible at hiding it.”

“You lot are the worst,” he muttered, though he couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

Despite the relentless teasing, you were always James’ biggest supporter. When he finally worked up the courage to ask Lily out in your fifth year, you were the one who gave him the pep talk beforehand.

“You’re James Potter,” you said firmly, gripping his shoulders. “You’re charming, funny, and completely brilliant. If she doesn’t say yes, it’s her loss.”

James smiled nervously. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you said confidently.

And even though a small part of you felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite name, you pushed it aside. Because James was your best friend, and you’d always be there for him—just like he’d always be there for you.

It happened gradually, so slowly that you didn’t notice at first. The paper rings, once a constant in your life, became fewer and fewer. By sixth year, they stopped altogether. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, you and James were still thick as thieves. He was busy with Quidditch, the Marauders, and his relentless pursuit of Lily Evans.

But deep down, you missed them.

Then one day, an owl from your parents arrived during breakfast in the Great Hall. You tore open the envelope eagerly, only to feel your stomach drop as you read the letter.

The treehouse at the Potters burned down.

Your chest ached as you reread the words. The treehouse, your secret hideout, the place where you’d kept all the paper rings James had ever given you—gone. Reduced to ashes.

You left the Great Hall in a daze, clutching the letter as tears blurred your vision. It wasn’t just a treehouse. It was years of memories, laughter, and promises that now felt lost forever. You needed to tell James. He would understand.

You found him in the courtyard, a broad grin on his face as he spoke animatedly to Lily. She was laughing, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, and for a moment, you hesitated.

Then you saw it: a paper ring in his hand. Your heart clenched painfully as he turned it over in his fingers, showing it to Lily with the same excitement he’d once reserved for you.

You felt a lump form in your throat. It was silly, really. You’d known for years that James fancied Lily. You’d encouraged him, teased him, supported him. And yet, seeing him with a paper ring—your paper ring—meant for her…

It felt like losing a part of yourself.

You turned on your heel and walked away before he could see you, the letter crumpled in your hand. As you hurried back to the common room, you tried to push the image from your mind, but it clung stubbornly.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. Maybe Lily had finally agreed to a date. Maybe the ring wasn’t even for her. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

But the ache in your chest told a different story.

You didn’t sleep much that night. The weight of the treehouse’s destruction—and the memories it held—pressed heavily on your chest. When morning came, you dragged yourself to breakfast, your usual bubbly demeanor dimmed.

James was already there, sitting with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, recounting some Quidditch play. He caught sight of you as you approached, and his grin faltered.

“Morning, sunny,” he greeted, nudging the bench beside him. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

You plopped down next to him, twisting the edge of your sleeve. “James… the..the treehouse, it burned down.”

His face froze, confusion quickly giving way to shock. “What?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

You handed him the crumpled letter. He read it, his expression shifting to heartbreak. “Our treehouse? The one we built with my mum’s old cushions and all the fairy lights?”

You nodded, your throat tight. “All the paper rings… they were in there, James.”

For a moment, he just stared at the letter. Then, without warning, he pulled you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you like they used to when you were kids, and you buried your face in his shoulder, letting the familiar scent of parchment and pine comfort you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t think—I didn’t realize—”

You missed the way his breath hitched, his soft oh of realization. Missed the quick glance he threw across the table to Lily, whose knowing gaze met his. Her lips curled into the faintest smile, as if she understood something neither of you had quite pieced together yet.

But you were too caught up in the hug, too lost in your own heartbreak to notice anything else.

James Potter was not one to do things halfway. The moment he realized how much those paper rings had meant to you, he made it his mission to bring them back into your life in abundance. It started small—a single paper ring folded neatly and tucked into your Potions book during class.

“James,” you whispered, holding it up with an amused smile. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Trouble’s my middle name,” he whispered back, grinning mischievously before turning back to Slughorn’s lecture like he hadn’t just slid a tiny masterpiece of folded parchment into your life.

But James Potter didn’t stop at small. Soon, the paper rings started appearing everywhere. One in your bag during Transfiguration. Another tucked into your scarf at breakfast. A stack of them slid under your pillow one night. He even charmed one to float down from the owlery like a paper snowflake as you walked past.

The grandest moment came during Defense Against the Dark Arts. James, thinking he was being discreet, crept over to your desk mid-lecture to slip a particularly colorful ring onto your parchment. Just as he leaned down, a shadow loomed over both of you.

“Ahem,” Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice cut through the room like a knife. The class went silent, every head swiveling to witness James Potter caught red-handed.

James straightened, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Just delivering a very important piece of classwork, Professor,” he said smoothly, holding up the paper ring as if it were a prized essay.

McGonagall’s lips twitched, though she worked hard to suppress a smile. “Very well, Mr. Potter. But if I catch you again, you’ll be writing lines until your quill runs out of ink.”

“Yes, Professor,” James said solemnly, though his wink to Sirius betrayed him.

As McGonagall turned back to the blackboard, you swore you saw her glance over her shoulder and wink—wink—at you. For a moment, you questioned your sanity.

By the end of the week, you had more paper rings than you knew what to do with. You didn’t have the heart to throw them away—not after all the effort James had gone to—so you started collecting them in an old chocolate box you found in your dorm.

Every night, you added the day’s rings to the collection, tracing your fingers over the creases and folds as you smiled to yourself. It was ridiculous, really. They were just bits of paper, after all. But each one felt like a tiny promise—a reminder of a boy who made the world brighter simply by being in it.

It was another morning at the Gryffindor table, and James was unusually quiet. Normally, he’d be drumming his fingers on the table, bantering with Sirius, or laughing at something Peter said. But today, he was poking at his eggs, lost in thought.

Remus noticed first. Of course, he did. “You haven’t mentioned Lily in a while,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow. “What happened? Did she finally hex you into silence?”

Sirius barked a laugh, and Peter snorted into his pumpkin juice. But James just shrugged, looking nonchalant.

“Oh, yeah, about that,” he said casually, as if he weren’t about to drop a bombshell. “Well… that’s not happening.”

Your fork clattered onto your plate. “Really?” you blurted, a little too loudly. You immediately ducked your head, heat rushing to your cheeks.

James smirked, but it wasn’t his usual mischievous one—it was softer, more thoughtful. “Yeah, she kind of pointed out that I might have feelings for someone else.”

The table went silent. Even Sirius, who rarely let anything keep him quiet for long, was staring at James in surprise.

“And?” Remus prompted, leaning forward like he already knew the answer.

“And I realized… she was right,” James admitted, his voice quieter now.

“Oh,” you said softly, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. “That’s… interesting.”

“Yeah,” James said, turning to look at you with a curious expression. “It is.”

For a moment, his hazel eyes seemed to search yours, like he was trying to figure out if you knew what he meant—if you felt the same.

But before he could say anything else, Sirius, who clearly couldn’t handle the suspense, interrupted with a loud, “So, who’s the lucky person, Prongs? Don’t leave us hanging!”

James flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he grabbed a piece of toast and stuffed it into his mouth, muttering something unintelligible.

“Oh, come on,” Sirius teased, elbowing him. “Out with it, mate!”

But James just shook his head, laughing nervously. “Not telling,” he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

The conversation shifted after that, Sirius dragging Peter into a heated debate about whether or not owls secretly judged their owners, and you found yourself staring at your plate, your thoughts spinning.

You didn’t know what to make of James’ words. Who was he talking about? Was it someone you knew? Was it… you?

You glanced at James out of the corner of your eye. He was laughing now, teasing Peter about his messy handwriting, but there was something different about him—something softer.

You pushed the thought away. It couldn’t be you. Could it?

The Owlery was quiet, save for the soft hoots of the owls roosting in their perches. You had just tied your letter to your parents onto a barn owl’s leg, stroking its feathers as it took off into the morning light. Beside you, James was doing the same, his handwriting as messy as ever but filled with his usual warmth and charm.

As his owl soared into the sky, you lingered by the ledge, watching the horizon. James leaned beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was comfortable, the kind that came with years of friendship. But you couldn’t stop thinking about breakfast, about what he’d said, and about the way he’d looked at you.

“So,” you started, your voice soft, “this… someone else you might have feelings for.”

James froze, his hands gripping the stone ledge. “Oh,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “That.”

You turned to face him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah, that.”

James rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Right. Well…” He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” you asked, taking a step closer.

He glanced at you then, his hazel eyes searching yours. “Because, well because it’s you,” he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, delicate and trembling. You stared at him, your mouth slightly open in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah,” James said, his cheeks flushing pink. “It’s always been you, I think. I just… didn’t realize it until Lily pointed it out. And then when I thought about it—about us—it just made sense, you know? You’ve always been there. You’ve always been you.”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “James…”

“I know it might be weird,” he said quickly, misinterpreting your silence. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just thought you should know, because I—”

“I feel the same,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

He blinked at you, his mouth hanging open. “You do?”

You nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. “I do.”

For a moment, James just stared at you, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, his lips curled into the biggest, brightest grin you’d ever seen.

“Brilliant,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You laughed, the sound light and bubbly, and he joined in, his joy infectious. Before you knew it, he was stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours.

“I, uh, don’t have a proper ring,” he said, his voice nervous but warm. “But…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar folded strip of parchment.

Your breath hitched as he gently slipped the paper ring onto your finger, his touch lingering. “There,” he said, his smile soft and a little shy. “Perfect.”

You looked down at the ring, your chest swelling with warmth. It was so James—simple, sweet, and utterly wonderful.

“Perfect,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

When you looked up, he was already watching you, his hazel eyes filled with something so soft and tender it made your knees weak.

“Does this mean you’re stuck with me?” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“Forever, if you’ll have me,” James said, grinning.

And as the owls cooed above and the sunlight bathed the two of you in gold, you knew you would. Forever and always.

[dpspcehntr]

Kink Series: Zayne

Rafayel || Xavier || Sylus

Pairing: Zayne x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: temperature play, inappropriate use of evol, oral (f receiving), over stimulation, fingering (f receiving), P in V, cum play, cum eating, cum fetish, cream pie, just so much cum, spitting

A/N: Welcome to part one of this series! I didn't expect to have this much fun with this but I did. These are not beta read so please be nice to me. Continuously spreading my cum fetish Zayne agenda! Also I went kinda wild with this one but I do not regret it. As always reblogs are deeply appreciated and I hope you enjoy.

In between kisses and gropes during your usual office make out sessions you asked him a simple question.

“Can you use your evol on me?”

He didn’t say much, taking your lips into his as he pulled you off his desk and into his lap.

“N-next time. We don’t have enough time tonight.”

He whispered against your lips as he unzipped the fly on your pants. For the week after, all you could think about was the feeling of ice running down your body. You tried on your own to satisfy the itch but nothing was working. You didn’t tell him anything until you found yourself with him naked on top of you kissing you on your off day. With his evol he carefully produces a layer of ice to cover his hand. You watch in excitement as he gently places the hand on your flushed body. The cold of his fingers slowly trace circles around your hard nipples leaving you dizzy with desire. Your back arches into his touch as he tugs on your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. The sensation of cold and warm leaves you breathless as you card your hands into his hair. He groans around you as you arch further into him, grazing his raging hard on with your thigh. He switches nipples, torturing you so deliciously as you moan and writhe for him. You wanted so much more from him but his slow pace was deliberate. He liked it best when you both were so worked up, one orgasm would just never be enough for either of you. You never complained, the wait only made your release feel so much sweeter. His fingertips dance over your skin lower and lower. The cold making your head spin as he drags his middle finger over your inner thigh. You’re dripping onto the sheets below as he presses his fingers into you. You try your best to thrust yourself further onto his fingers but he doesn’t budge, taking his time pushing two fingers into you. His fingers no longer covered in ice still lingering with coldness enter you fully. He presses them deep into you, hitting your g spot. You arch deeper into his touch as he slowly thrusts them in and out of you. He sets a moderate pace, giving you just enough to keep you on the edge as you beg him for more. You feel his composure slowly slipping away as you begin to clench down onto his fingers. His pace quickens as your juices gush over his knuckles and down his hand. You cry out as you ride out your high on his fingers. It’s not enough for you, you need him inside of you right at this moment.

“Zayne please. I need you.”

He shifts his position on the bed as he settles himself between your legs. He lines himself up with your entrance and looks to you. In your blissed out state you can only nod a yes as he begins to slide into you. He takes his time bottoming out, making sure you feel every single inch being thrust into you. The teasing touch of cold long lost in the thrill of being connected once again. You cry out as he pull out and thrusts all the way back inside you. He fills you up so completely, rubbing against your walls so deliciously. You can only lie there and take everything he gives you, too lost in the pleasure of him overwhelming all of your senses. You feel yourself begin to clench down on him as your orgasm quickly builds up. He continues at his pace, drawing out your edge just a bit more. Before long your release crashes over you with a rush. You ride it out as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging your release. HIs pace begins to falter, becoming more desperate. Before he can cum inside you he pulls out of you with a shudder as he paints your stomach and thighs with his cum. You whine at the loss of him but you don’t have to wait long. He leans down hovering over where he just released onto you. He carefully begins to clean up the mess, licking every single drop off of you. You whine and writhe on the bed as he finishes cleaning up the mess he made. The desire coursing through you was almost painful as you watched him swallow every drop. He’s lines himself back up with your entrance and looks up at you.

“Ready?”

He looks into your eyes looking for any hesitation.

“F-fuck. Yes.”

Overwhelmed by what you just witnessed and blissfully fucked out you greedily agree for another. He thrusts back into you completely as you arch into him. He grips your hips and thrust you back onto him as you moan out his name. It was all too much for you and another orgasm crashes over you. You can’t keep track of when the orgasms start and stop as he plows into you chasing his own high. His thrusts become irregular as his own release is close. With one more thrust he paints your insides white. He groans loudly as he comes down from his orgasm. He pulls out once more and watches his cum leak out of you. He leans down and carefully licks from your clit to your dripping hole. You buck into him as he scopes his cum out of you with his tongue. Your clit throbs as another orgasm builds up inside you. He slurps and sucks you like a madman, savoring the taste of you mixing together. His grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you clenching down on his tongue. You grip a fist full of his hair and pull hard as your orgasm crashes down on you. The pressure bursting as you squirt over his face. He doesn't let up, sucking you until your legs start shaking. One orgasm rolls into the next as your voice goes hoarse from moaning. He eventually pulls away after having his fill. He sits up and leans over you. You look into his eyes as he leans in further, inches from your lips.

"Open up."

He slits the rest of his cum and your squirt into your mouth and your swallow it greedily. You pull him in for a heated kiss, licking the taste of both of you from his mouth. You stay locked in a heated embrace before you both pull away for air. You collapse onto the bed in exhaustion as he rolls over to the spot next to you. He pulls you close for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

*the next morning*

In the morning, you wake up snuggled tight into Zayne's arms. A glass of water and a bottle of pain medicine sits on your bedside table, he must've cleaned you up in the night. You ease yourself out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Before long you hear the door open as a sleepy Zayne trudges in. He settles into your shoulder, his arms draped loosely around your waist. He kisses your neck before looking at you in the mirror.

"Apologies for last night. I got a bit carried away in the passions of the evening."

He blushes and avoids looking into your eyes in the mirror.

"If you're talking about spitting in my mouth, I enjoyed it. No need to apologize if I liked it."

He sheepishly makes eye contact with you in the mirror and nods. You wonder what else he's capable of when the passion takes over as your cheeks flush thinking of next time.

[puckinghischier]

What do you think Quinn would do for a grand gesture when he was missing his girl?

seeing as he’s a sentimental sort, considering the gift he gave luke, i know he’d do something so over the top in the best way.

he’d already have bought you every long distance gadget in existence. the bracelets that vibrate when you touch them to let the other person know you’re thinking of them. the smart fridge he can leave notes from his phone on for you to wake up to in the morning. the lamp that glows a certain color when the other person misses you. the iphone widget he can draw pictures of flowers on before the real thing is delivered to your door.

he’d make sure he had every opportunity to make sure you knew he was thinking about you, even when he’s busy and on the road. sometimes a message or a vibration from a bracelet is all he had time for, but it was enough for you.

for him? nothing could ever replace being in your presence. he needed to see you, touch you, hear your voice. this past season had been rough. being away from you for so long, he was miserable. he found himself being distracted by thoughts of when he could get back home to you during practice or while warming up for a game. he was rushing post game media so he could call you before you fell asleep. he was skipping team bonding to facetime you and catch up on your day.

so, he started putting a plan into motion. he hoped it wouldn’t scare you off or freak you out, but he was too deep into it now to back out.

you had noticed he’d been spending a lot of time on the phone with his agent lately, assuming it was some negotiation for a brand or sponsorship. you knew it couldn’t have anything to do with his spot on the canucks, both the team and quinn loving the other too much to part ways.

but he started acting weird. he started being jumpy when you’d ask him about his conversations with his agent, curious as to what’s taking up so much of his time lately.

“just contract stuff. you know, i have to renew it soon and there’s all kinds of stuff that goes into that. brad’s just trying to get me the best bang for my buck,” he’d nervously chuckle, changing the subject quickly.

you were cleaning up the kitchen one day after making lunch, quinn having had to go to the rink for some kind of business meeting, he told you. you hear the door open and his keys fall into the bowl on the dining room table, a soft call of your name ringing through the space.

he walks into the kitchen to find you finishing up the last few dishes, making small talk until you’re finished and join him over at the end of the long island.

“whatcha got there, q?” you question curiously, noticing how he hasn’t let go of the paper once since walking through the door.

“oh, this? well, we need to talk about it, actually.” his nervous tone makes you nervous, worried about what’s on the piece of official looking paper.

“okay…” you trail off, not enjoying the nervous energy engulfing the room.

he clears his throat, running his fingers along the edges of the paper repeatedly, forcing himself to keep looking you in the eyes.

“so, you know how i bought you all those things to let you know i’m thinking of you when i’m not on the road? the bracelet, the lamp, the new fridge, the flowers and notes?” he lists off all the heartfelt things he’s given you over the course of your relationship, a smile taking over your face as you nod at him.

the smile on your face gives him a bit more confidence, more sure of his decision than he was just a few moments ago.

“okay, well, i can’t do that anymore. those bracelets? the lamp? the messages on the fridge? they’re not enough. they’re not cutting it anymore.”

your heart sinks. what does he mean it’s not enough? if it’s enough for you, why isn’t it enough for him? he’s the one that’s gone all the time. you’re the one who has to stay here and wait for him to come back. is this paper a new lease? is he kicking you out? breaking up with you?

you take a step back from him, your head filling with all kinds of negative thoughts as to what’s on that paper in his hand.

“quinn, i-i don’t understand. what do you mean-“

“please, just let me finish. i need to get this out and then you can ask me all the questions you want. and yell at me, if you feel the need,” he interrupts you, putting a hand up in between the two of you.

your mouth snaps shut, tears threatening to spill any second.

“like i said, the superficial stuff just isn’t enough anymore. if i can’t have you with me all the time, i don’t know if i can keep doing this. all of this. it’s killing me. i know it’s my fault i’m gone, but my god i miss you so much it hurts me,” he continues his speech, not picking up on the shake in your hands.

“quinn, you don’t have to do this. we can…figure something else out. i miss you too when you’re gone. so much,” your shaky voice tries to reason with him, not wanting to hear him say the words out loud.

he holds a hand up to silence you, effectively stopping your words.

“my mind’s already made up. already signed my name and everything, even if brad did think i was crazy,” quinn keeps going, confusing you even more.

what did his agent have to do with him breaking up with you and kicking you off of the lease you just signed together?

you don’t have time to ask him, because he lays the paper in front of you, sliding it towards you. “here, just read it for yourself.”

you pick up the thick paper, noting the canucks emblem stamped into the top of the document, your eyes falling to the long paragraphs taking up the majority of the page.

there’s one section that’s highlighted, marked to stand out specifically for your eyes.

“the canucks organization, in agreement with quintin j. hughes, hereby provides transportation, accommodations, and admission to 10 (ten) away games of his choice during regular season hockey, and every meeting of post-season playoffs if necessary, to one person of his choice, contingent of his reporting to canucks sponsored activities such as: games, practice, training camps….”

it takes your brain a few moments to catch up to what you’re reading.

he…rewrote his contract for you. he, somehow, convinced an entire organization to write into his contract a clause to be able to take you with him to games during the season. you look up at him, his nervous stare meeting your eyes.

you start laughing.

quinn was nervous for a lot of things. he was worried you’d freak out and say he was crazy for this. he was worried you’d be mad at him and tell him you didn’t want to go on road trips with him. he didn’t know if you’d cry or jump with joy or walk out on him.

but he never expected you to laugh at him.

you can’t control your laughter. you try, but it just keeps coming, every attempt at containing it only making you laugh harder.

“i don’t understand. what’s so funny here?” quinn manages the courage to ask, voice shaky and embarrassed.

you manage to calm your fit enough to gain a fraction of decorum back, taking a few deep breaths before responding.

“quinn, i thought you were breaking up with me.”

quinn’s eyes widen, not expecting the words out of your mouth at all.

“no, i- why would you think that?” he rushes out, walking towards you.

you wipe the tears from your eyes, trying to calm yourself even further.

“well, i don’t know. the way you worded it had me convinced you were bringing me a new lease you’d signed without my name on it or something. thought you were kicking me out,” you chuckle only slightly at the end of your explanation.

quinn grabs your face in his calloused hands, gently forcing you to look at him.

“i hope you know, i would never break up with you. not by kicking you out of the apartment, much less. if anything you’d be the one kicking me out.”

“well i sure hope not. according to your contract, we have eight more years of roadies in our future. think those accommodations would be real awkward if you kicked me out. wonder if petey would let me bunk with him?”

[4linos]

behind closed doors

kim seungmin x fem!reader

synopsis/request: When you overhear Seungmin's parents' doubts about your relationship, you’re left questioning if you can ever measure up to their expectations until Seungmin’s support reminds you of what truly matters.

wc: 1948

It was an evening you had both anticipated and dreaded: your first meeting with Seungmin's family. The entire day had been a mixture of excitement and nerves for you.

Seungmin's parents and sister were very important to him, and you naturally wanted to make a good impression. Everything had started off nicely enough. His parents were polite and respectable, while his sister was vibrant and charming. They all seemed really friendly, which relieved some of the stress in your chest. However, there was an underlying pressure to appear as if you were the right person for Seungmin in their eyes. You wanted to show them how serious you were about him and the relationship.

Seungmin was his usual self, loving and fun, in stark contrast to the formal atmosphere you were trying to navigate. As the night went on, you tried to figure out a balance between being yourself and what you believed his family would expect from someone in your position.

You laughed a little too loudly at his father's jokes, became overly passionate talking about unimportant topics, and may have made a couple too many silly remarks. You didn't want to be too stiff or too serious; it felt like you were trying to draw a careful balance between demonstrating that you were polite and truly interested in getting to know them, while still allowing your personality to peek through.

But then came the time when you excused yourself to go the bathroom. You'd noticed a strange tightening in your chest, an almost unbearable sensation of pressure. Maybe it was the food, or it could have been the nerves. Regardless, you needed a time to breathe.

As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to settle yourself down, you had no idea that the thin walls allowed you to hear faint sounds on the other side. You weren't trying to eavesdrop; your mind was busy with your own ideas. But when the conversation you overheard started, it was like a punch to the stomach.

The words came through clearly, and they stung more than you expected. Seungmin's mother spoke softly yet firmly. "Do you think she's the one, Seungmin?" she asked, somewhat hesitantly.

You felt your heart speed up as his father spoke out, his tone condemning, "She seems so playful, too much so, don't you think?" "She doesn't seem to take things seriously." That was hardly the worst of it.

His father went on to say, "Seungmin, she is not marriage material. You need someone more grounded, someone who knows what it means to settle down.

Your throat tightened as the words struck you harder than expected. You wanted to run back into the room and interrupt, but your legs felt heavy, and your mind was racing to find a way to mask your pain. His mother continued, almost sadly, "She doesn't seem to be serious about you or this relationship. She seems too... young, too carefree."

Seungmin's voice came next, quieter than the others and almost protective. "She's just not used to...this," he explained. "She's a little different from what you expect, but that doesn't mean she doesn't care." His father was obviously unconvinced. "It's more than just caring, Seungmin. "She lacks the necessary maturity."

Then, maybe recognizing just how difficult the topic was for her brother, Seungmin's sister interrupted with more than a hint of impatience. "Mom and Dad, stop! She's great. You don't understand. She's like me; she's lively, warm, and kind. I really like her.”

It was comforting to hear someone fight for you, even if it was Seungmin's sister. You stood motionless, the hurt of their words still echoing in your chest. But you didn't have the courage to confront them right away.

What could you possibly say?

You tried so hard, probably too hard, to appear mature and serious, but it didn't feel like it was enough.

You stood in the bathroom for a while longer, feeling the weight of their judgment. You had tried to be someone you thought they’d want, but in doing so, you realized that you hadn’t really been yourself. You didn’t know how to process the idea that, maybe, you weren’t seen as good enough for Seungmin not by his parents, at least.

When you finally returned to the room, you knew something had changed. The air felt different. Seungmin’s sister, noticing your quieter demeanor, tried to shift the atmosphere by asking you more about your hobbies. “Wait, you like pottery?” she asked with wide eyes, an obvious attempt to get you talking.

"Yeah," you said quietly, trying to keep a light tone, "I've been getting into it lately. It's sort of relaxing." Her eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm. "No way! I've been doing pottery for several months now! That’s great!" She gasped, smiled warmly, attempting to lighten the mood even further. "We should definitely do something together. It will be so much fun! I can teach you some tricks; I'm very good at it."

For a little while, the connection you had with his sister managed to reduce some of the nervousness. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched in ways you hadn't expected, and that something was wrong. Seungmin also noticed the shift in you. He kept looking at you, brow wrinkled, stare kind yet anxious. His eyes would wander between you and his parents, almost as if he sensed something was wrong, but he didn't push.

Dinner continued, but the lightness was gone. His sister made more small talk, and you tried to engage, but it felt forced. Every time you tried to speak, Seungmin's gaze lingered on you, looking for answers he had not asked for. His parents, while being respectful, seemed to fall into silence after their earlier talk. You couldn't help but feel like an outsider in a space that you had hoped would feel like home.

You told yourself that you were overreacting. Maybe it was all in your head. But every time Seungmin's parents spoke to you, you felt judged, as if you hadn't proven yourself in their eyes. His sister, sensing your uneasiness, attempted to change the subject as much as possible, but the shadow of their words hung over you.

When the evening drew to an end, Seungmin led you to the door. You were calmer, almost withdrawn. You didn't want him to know how much it hurt, yet the disappointment persisted. As you grabbed for the door handle, Seungmin's voice broke the silence, softer than normal.

"Are you alright? You've been unusually quiet recently." You smiled, pretending everything was alright, but the weight of the evening hung heavy on your chest. "I'm fine," you said, but neither of you found it believable. "Just... tired, I guess." He didn't press any more, but his eyes were gentle and concerned, indicating that he had observed the change in you. "If you need to talk... anything, I'm here," he said softly, his fingers brushing over yours. You nodded, trying to smile, but it was hard to shake the feeling that you weren't enough, that you would never be enough for his family, no matter how hard you tried.

The cold breeze as you stepped into the peaceful night air did little to relieve the pressure in your chest. You strolled beside Seungmin, his arm brushing against yours in a way that used to comfort you but now only increased to the gap you felt between yourself and what had happened inside. The drive home was quiet, with the hum of the engine filling the gaps between the silences. Seungmin was still looking at you, his eyes flickering back and forth as if he wanted to question, to comprehend, but didn't want to push. His hands clutched the driving wheel tighter than usual, and the stress was evident. You could feel his anxiety, but you were not yet ready to talk. You weren’t sure how.

When you arrived at the apartment, he parked and sat for a time, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "I know you're not okay," he continued, his voice lower than usual. "Whatever happened tonight, please tell me. I'm here. But you don't have to if you aren't actually ready. You paused, unsure where to begin, but the weight of the overheard conversation, judgment, and unsaid expectations pressed down on you, threatening to spill over. "I don't know," you said, your voice trembling. "It's just hard, Seungmin. I tried so hard to fit in, to prove that I am... enough for you. But it seems like nothing I did mattered. They say I'm too childish, too carefree, and that I can’t take things seriously." Your voice caught, and you looked away, suddenly feeling exposed.

Seungmin's stare softened, and you thought you noticed a glint of frustration in his eyes, not at you, but at the situation. He reached over, softly squeezing your hand. "You are not too much of anything. I adore you for being who you are. I apologize if they made you feel uncomfortable. That is their problem, not yours.” You struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to flow, but they fell regardless.

The irritation, the hurt, and the overwhelming sensation of not being able to measure up all spilled out of you in an instant. Seungmin wasn't trying to stop you. He just sat there, holding your hand, allowing you to cry. His thumb traced small circles over your skin, the simple act offering more comfort than words ever could.

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to change," he said after a moment, his voice quiet and steady. "I understand they can be difficult. But I love you for who you are. I have never wanted anyone else. And you don't have to fake or change to make people see it." You sniffled and looked up at him with hazy eyes. "What if they never see it?" What if they never realize I'm serious about us? about you?" "They will," Seungmin replied confidently. "It may take time. And while they may not understand it right now, they will eventually see what I see. And in the meantime, all that matters is what we see in each other.”

You took a long breath, hoping to settle your rushing thoughts. Seungmin was right. The weight of his family's expectations should not be entirely on your shoulders. You weren't perfect. You didn't meet their expectations. What mattered most was that Seungmin saw you for who you were and loved you despite, or perhaps because of, your differences. "I'm sorry I've been so distant tonight," you said, wiping your tears. "I just didn't know how to handle all of it." He smiled tenderly, moving a stray strand of hair away from your face. "There is no need to apologize for how you feel. You don't have to explain your emotions to me or anyone else.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the evening slowly lifting as Seungmin's presence settled you. You eventually turned to him, giving him a faint, sincere smile. “Thank you. For everything. I just don't want to disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me," he continued, his voice firm and confident. "You're everything to me. And I will always stand by your side, no matter what." It wasn't a solution, and it wouldn't solve everything quickly. But it was enough to know that, in Seungmin's eyes, you were enough. And maybe that was all you truly needed to hold onto, at least for now.

The night wasn’t over, but somehow, with him beside you, it already felt a little lighter.

//

masterlist 📩

[kiemiu]

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝓞: 𝓝𝐞𝐰 𝓕𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 1.8k

summary -> the kids being preoccupied left you room to become friendly with the newcomer, kang cheol before his sister makes an appearance for a quick visit. warnings -> injuries (?)

( beneath the quiet masterlist )

12:33PM

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 gave you more time to spend with the kids while your mother was out running errands. You never had a full grasp on what she did on those errands, always returning with more junk than she had left with, always leaving the bulk of it all in the trunk of her car for you to carry in. Even at such a young age you could feel your bones aching and your back practically begging for a break as you carried in pile after pile of magazines. Never knowing what she did with them, or why she had so many, but also never being curious enough to ask.

A huff of exhaustion yet relief left you after plopping the last stack of magazines in front of her door, twisting and turning parts of your body to release any tension before you went back to supervising the kids. Turning your head in a slow circle until your eyes landing on the halfway open door to the art room. The top of a head picking in and out of the crack, scattered papers with markers all over the floor. It didn't take you long to realize it was Cheol. After breakfast and a short lesson, he asked to retire to his room because he wasn't feeling the best, not in need of a nurse or tea that you offered but just wanting to sleep.

You knew how hard of an adjustment it must've been for him to be dropped off in the middle of his adolescents. So many questions could be going through his head, mainly wondering why? And as you think back to his older sister you can't help but wonder what type of hardship they might've been through at such a young age.

The bleak weariness that overtook their forms showed that the past hadn't been kind to them, and even in the safety net of an orphanage they still kept their walls up high. Being self-preserved and reluctant to bond to those around, as if at any moment the world around them would start to crumble, and their efforts to build anything other than a simple acquaintanceship would be futile when it's all said and done.

Without a second thought you made your way over to him, giving the crowded play room a mere glance to make sure the kids were behaving appropriately before making your way inside the art room.

A few gentle knocks were placed on the door before you slowly made your way in, even with the intention of being subtle, you still managed to frighten him, his body jumping before he backed into the leg of a table. A junction of apologies leaving your lips as you slowly made your way towards, your hands held out as you approached as if he was an injured animal.

"I just wanted to see what you were up to." you quietly whisper, bending down far enough to pick up a piece of a paper he colored on. His once rigid form slowly relaxed, scooting himself closer and closer to you when he realized you didn't pose a threat.

The picture messily drawn showing three people in front of a house standing and holding hands with big smiles. "Who's this supposed to be?" You asked, turning the page toward him, having the smallest hint of who it might be.

"Me, my sister, and my mom." he clarified, beginning to draw on another piece of paper, his eyes never leaving the page even as he dropped a marker to pick up another one. You didn't want to press the issue, thinking of all of the possible outcomes that could've led him to end up here, instead settling for a hum of approval and a meek "You draw very well."

A small smile creeped on his face at your compliment, the rapidly moving hand that sketched across the paper halting as he slowly looked up at you. "You wan' me to draw you?" his head slightly tilting to the side, his doe eyes gleaming with something adventurous.

You reciprocated his smile, before nodding, offering to draw him as well, leaving your mother to supervise the other group of rowdy children on her lonesome, you were sure she could handle herself.

As you drew each other on the floor of the art room, you exchanged your likes and dislikes, foods you hated and adored, and your all time favorite tv shows. Small laughs being exchanged between you two, while a light weight lifted off of your shoulders to see him fully relax into the atmosphere. His posture eased and his babbling nonstop, cutting himself off between sentences to tell another story than the other one he told, which was something you also did when you got too excited.

Just as he was in the middle of telling a story, two short and rapid knocks broke through the tranquil bubble created between you two. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes slightly widening at the sight of his sister, standing placid, her face wearing the same exhausted yet impassive expression she wore last time.

Cheol gasped before lifting himself off of the floor and running towards her, his arms locking around her waist as one of her hands rested on the top of his head, messily combing her fingers through his flat locks. "We were just talking about you, noona!" he exclaimed, his toothy grin looking up at her as he rested his chin on her lower abdomen, arms still locked tightly around her waist.

A flash of confusion crossed her face, her eyebrow lifting up only for a split second before returning to her regular stony composition. "You were?" she asked, the tilt of her head similar to the way Cheol had completed the action earlier. Although different in looks you could tell they were related by the allusive mannerisms, even the way they talked occasionally reminding you of the other.

You lifted yourself off of the floor, dusting the sides and back of your pants off before slowly making your way over. "He was just telling me a story on how you taught him how to ride a bike." you clarified for him. A grin creeping on your face as you recalled him telling you she wasn't the best teacher at the time, the longest she'd been on a bike no longer than 10 seconds as she always ended up losing her balance.

Sae-byeok's gaze fell from yours to her little brothers, a ghost of a smile tugging on her lips for a split second before disappearing as her head turned over to the ruckus of the playroom next door.

You didn't mean to stare, but your eyes couldn't help but lock onto the visible scar on her neck, something you hadn't noticed the first time you saw her. Your head tilting the slightest to gaze at it. It was a faded pinkish color, a whisper of a tragedy etched into her skin for life, just barely being covered by the stray hairs falling from her pulled back low ponytail.

It felt as if you were underwater, falling into a trance of your eyes trailing the visible parts of her body to see any other unmarked scars that you had missed at first glance. Her hands barely concealed yet the scratches and traces of dried blood on the knuckles shined a brighter light on who she was. Her fingers long, slender, and littered in bruises, making you wonder what she could've done to sustain such injuries.

The way her hands consciously slipped deeper inside the sleeves of her jacket to conceal her hands didn't go unnoticed, and as if you were pulled from the suffocating waves of the ocean, you heard Sae-Byeok's voice come into view.

"Why aren't you playing with the other kids?" she asked, your eyes catching hers for a second before they diverted to Cheol who was still gripped onto her tightly. He hummed in response, not wanting to tell his sister that he was afraid.

Afraid of what the other kids would think about him, how they would treat him if he spoke too much, and if they'd see him differently if he was truly himself.

"Um, I just wanted to color." he murmured, his eyes avoiding his sisters, his hands resorting to latching onto her wrists, swinging them back and forth to keep himself occupied from having to meet her gaze, knowing that she can read him like a book.

You saw Sae-byeok tense, her face cringing at the sudden pressure around her wrists, but quickly masking it with a frown. Her mouth opened to question him but was abruptly interrupted by Cheol. "Oh, Miss Kim, Can I show noona what we were drawing together?" He suddenly asked, his head turning towards you, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

You nodded, your eyes abashedly meeting Sae-Byeok's for a split second. "Of course, and if you want you can color with your noona in the visitor area." you offered, already gathering the sheets of paper off of the floor and bending down to throw markers back into their bin.

You smiled as he quickly nodded his head up and down, quickly scattering down to the floor to help you clean the mess you made together. "Will you join us?" Cheol suddenly asked after gathering the multitude of supplies, holding the bin of coloring items with both of his hands, occasionally using his knee to keep it from slipping.

You opened your mouth to answer but was soon interrupted by the yell of your mother calling your name. A small sorrowful smile making its way onto your face, "I don't think I'll be able to..maybe some other time, yeah?" you query, holding the now neat stack of papers close to your chest.

Cheol nodded, his smile still never slipping as he made his way back over to Sae-Byeok.

You held the papers out for her to take, not wanting to pile too much onto Cheol, only then being close enough to realize the noticeable height difference, she practically towered over you, her head having to slightly tilt down if she wanted to maintain eye contact.

Her eyes stayed trained on yours, eyelids fluttering at the smallest graze of her fingertips against yours as she took the drawings away from you. A mumble of what you assume to be a 'Thanks' was heard as she turned her back towards you, her and Cheol treading down the hall to the visitors area to continue coloring together, faint murmurs of Cheol's voice being heard as he told Sae-Byeok how good of an artist you were when you were merely average at best.

As they turned the corner you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at Sae-Byeok's departing glance at you over her shoulder, her eyes flickering towards yours like a magnet before she disappeared into the halls of the orphanage. She evidently wasn't one for words, speaking her own secret language with her eyes, you just had to figure out what she meant.

Where did you come from Kang Sae-Byeok?

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection @yourl0caltrash @kidicaruslover911 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @i0nic02 @knfthxv @mina-has-been-here

[shigarosie]

Butterfly, Fly Away (part one)

Aizawa feels out of breath. Despite the fact that he drove to the daycare center, it feels like he ran the whole way. He doesn’t run inside, but he does do an awkward half jog to get in there quickly without looking like some sort of lunatic. 

The room, as expected, is a disaster. Kids are crying. Drawings have been torn up and thrown around, chairs have been overturned. Eri is at the center of it all, with an uninterrupted scream at the top of her lungs that he’s sure has lasted at least a full minute by the way her red face is slowly starting to show hints of purple. 

Eri has been kicked out of another daycare. 

She skips alongside him merrily as he walks back to the car with him, her little purple bag in one hand while the other holds her own pudgy little palm. You would think that she was a perfectly well behaved little angel if you saw her now, no traces left of her hurricane of an outburst mere minutes ago. 

There was a familiar throbbing pain forming like a tight band around his skull. 

Once they were in the car, Eri kicking her feet in her carseat and playing with the straps of her bag, Aizawa couldn’t help but spare glances at her in the rearview mirror when he stopped at all the stop signs on the way back to the high school. His daughter was the best, most important thing in his life. He loved her more than anything, no matter what. He just didn’t know what to do with her anymore. 

As he parked in his designated spot, five minutes left of his lunch break, Eri hurriedly tried to unbuckled her carseat before Aizawa could get to her. It was a game she liked to play, despite the fact that her clumsy fingers hadn’t yet grown strong enough to fully press the big red button that released the clips. But Aizawa didn’t get out of the car to come around and unbuckle her yet. 

“Hurry daddy!” she taunts, grunting as her fingers slip as they always do. “I’m gonna beat you this time!” 

“What happened, Eri?”

She paused, looking up at him with those eyes that look almost too big for her head in the sweetest way. She looked unphased. Unashamed, unapologetic. 

“I didn’t like it there,” was the simple answer she gave. “Daycare is stupid.” 

“But honey,” he sighed, “you know that you have to go. And don’t use the word stupid, please.” 

The little girl starts to shift uncomfortably in her seat, no longer trying to unbuckle her restrictive straps, but attempting to pull them down her shoulders instead. 

“Why?” she asks, an edge beginning to form where a smooth curve used to exist in her voice. “Why can’t I just come with you to big kid school?” 

“Because next year you’ll have to start going to kindergarten, so you can learn new things and make friends. I won’t be able to just drop everything and come get you. Instead you’ll be forced to either sit in your classroom or sit in the principal’s office for hours until big kid school is done.”

Eri slumps in her seat. The tears are welling in her eyes and Aizawa has to look above her head in order to keep talking with her. 

“This is the fourth daycare you’ve been kicked out of, honey. That’s not good.”

Eri turns her face away. “Guess you’ll have to maybe take me to a new one then,” she says. 

“I can’t.” At this she perks up, catching the feeling of excitement in those little hands of hers before it slips from her grasp and runs off when she sees her dad do that thing where he drags his hand down the entirety of his face and then rubs at his scruffy jaw. “This was the last daycare in our area that I can afford. No more daycares.”

“So I’ll have to come to school with you now, right?” she asks, hopeful eyes shining with a few embarrassed tears that hadn’t yet gone away. 

Aizawa doesn’t say anything. He gets out of the car, opens her door, and helps her out of her seatbelt. 

“Come on,” he says, holding her bag in one hand and her palm in the other. “Today you get to watch my students take a pop quiz.” 

Class 1-A loves Eri. They love to dote on her, like she’s their princess and they are nothing but her humble servants. They don’t bat an eye when she shows up during the second half of the day anymore, used to their visibly stressed teacher sitting her down with coloring pages and an old cd player (there’s no way in hell he would ever put an ipad in her hands) in a poor attempt at a fort under his desk. They felt bad for him, really, knowing how hard he’s had it since… 

They also like to sneak little snacks and fidget toys to her when he’s not looking. They get passed down the rows of desks like contraband, making a wide loop around the goody-goodies that rat them out. They think they’re helping, really they do. And it’s endearing. But it makes it more difficult for him, in all actuality, when he’s trying to convince Eri that his classroom is not the place for her to be and they’re doing everything to make it friendly for her. They even stopped swearing when Eri made her little visits. (At least, they tried their best.) 

“They’re like her gang of babysitters,” Aizawa explains to Mic as he pulls out a bottle of scotch from the baby proofed cupboard above the fridge and two glasses. Eri had been put to bed an hour prior, after having her bath and getting her hair braided and insisting on TWO stories tonight; one from her dad and one from her godfather. “It just makes her want to be there even more.”

“Maybe that’s what you two need,” Mic says from the sofa, helping himself to some chips and dip. 

“What?”

“You know, a babysitter,” the blond elaborates. “Or a nanny, in this case.”

Aizawa’s brow furrows. His lips turn down. Mic can already tell this is going to take a lot of selling. “What’s the difference?”

“Nannies do more,” Mic says, his mouth partially full. He gave up on manners around Aizawa sometime around… well, they met in middle school, so he probably never had them in the first place. “Babysitters are for, like, date nights and stuff.” 

“I definitely don’t need one of those,” Aizawa grumbles, handing Mic his glass before settling onto the couch himself. 

“Nannies are more long term,” Mic continues, not addressing the comment, “they would stay with her at home the whole day while you work, maybe do some tidying or run some errands for you. It’s like daycare, but more personal and actually not at all like daycare. You just have someone watching your kid all day.” 

Aizawa groans, gulping down most of his drink in one go. “I don’t want some stranger in my house alone with my kid. That sounds terrible.” 

“Man, they call them nanny cams for a reason. And when you use the websites they do background checks.” 

“How do you know so much about nannies?” Aizawa asks suspiciously. Mic had no kids. He had no nieces or nephews. All he had were a bunch of elementary school students singing the same ten annoying songs off key. 

“Remember the lady with the two kids I was hooking up with while they were with their dad? She had a nanny.” 

“And how long after you stopped seeing the mom did you start sleeping with the nanny?” Aizawa asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Hey, it’s completely a coincidence that I met her nanny out at a bar one night, okay? Swear on my life. Not like I ever met her before then, I never met the kids!” 

“Whatever,” Aizawa says, downing the last of his drink before pouring another. “I’m not getting a nanny.” 

“You at least gotta think about it,” Mic says, “you don’t have many other choices here. Unless you want to call your mom and have her-” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Then I recommend you take the weekend to research nanny websites,” Mic says. “You can’t bring your kid to work with you every day. It’s not good for her. It’s not good for you.” Mic leaves his unfinished drink on the coffee table, knowing Aizawa will just drink the rest himself after he leaves. “I should tuck in for the night. Think about it, alright? And I’m right down the street if you ever need anything. And-” 

“Good night, Mic.” 

“Later.” 

Aizawa stays on the couch, sitting in the same spot, staring at the wall in front of him for an hour before he finally sighs to himself. 

“Don’t have many other choices,” he grumbles as he pulls his laptop out of his work bag and starts his google search, Mic’s unfinished glass of scotch in hand. 

‘best nanny websites’

[robynlilyblack]

Something magical

(kinda playboy!) Sirius Black x fem! muggle! reader

Summary: Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith...and sometimes that means running off with a pretty stranger

Warnings/tags: mentions of alcohol and drinking, first kiss, meet cute, strangers to something more, kinda loser! reader (but not really)

A/n: 1.4k words, little random one today ♡

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

You nurse your drink, sitting alone while your coworkers are up dancing. They had insisted you come along, though you suspected it was more out of politeness than of genuine sentiment considering the empty booth before you. It's been a while since they’d come back to the table now, and you wondered if now was the best chance to sneak away, avoiding the awkward and insincere goodbyes.

Unfortunately that plan was short lived as some of the girls come back from the bathroom, giggling as they drop off their bags, slurring a little as they ask you to watch them as it's their song. Your head falls back a little in your seat, your happy mask falls revealing a defeated one, and you sigh a little as you take another sip of your drink

I’m such a loser

“Why so glum, sugar plum?” 

You sigh a little more as your eyes flick up, searching for the lucky guy or girl until...

“Up here darlin” he finally grabs your attention and your eyes snap to his, widening as they tentatively double check he definitely means you of all people, which he seems to get a kick out of, his smirk widening

“Did you really just say ‘why so glum, sugar plum’” you question with a slight giggle, eyes meeting his stunning grey ones as you sit up straighter

“Got your attention didn't I?” he defends with a wink and you shy away, looking back at your drink “Can I join you?” 

“Huh?” your head shoots back towards him “Really?” you reply more surprised than you mean to, causing your cheeks to heat, more so as it seems to make the man before you waver as well

Throughout the interaction so far he had been wearing an easy smile some would even consider a little cocky, but at the sound of your genuine surprise, it softens into something else, something you're not even he knows

“Would that be alright?” he asks carefully

“Oh…yeah of course” you gesture, moving a little deeper into the booth but then realise he might not have meant directly beside you “You meant here, right?” you point, to which he nods with a chuckle, more so as you shuffle a little more allowing him room to sit down

“So…” he starts, hand gently swirling his drink and drawing your eyes to the rings that beautifully litter his fingers “...what's got a pretty girl like yourself sitting all alone?” 

You let out a breathy laugh at the flattery “I’m not much of a dancer” you point towards your colleagues who look like their having the time of their lives

As his eyes follow your direction, taking in the scene, you take him in as well. It didn’t seem like this was his kind of scene either, he looked too much like a rocker to be in a place where the majority of men wore in suits and ties. If you were honest he looked too pretty to be anywhere but the cover of a magazine. And on top of all of that, there was just this air around him, like he was from another world altogether

“Your friends?” he wonders, leaning a little closer, thighs dangerously close to your own as the wisps of his curls threaten to tickle your cheek

“No, coworkers” you clarify with a slow shake of your head, meeting his side eye for a second before he looks back at them, nodding with a smile "I regret coming with them"

“I can see why...terrible dancers" he tries to cheer you up, taking a small swig of his drink “So why did you come out with them instead of…” he trails off, recoiling a little

“...actual friends?” you prompt and he nods with lips pressed together, looking thankful he hasn't offended you “The truth might make me seem like an even a glummer plum” you reply cringing, unable to stop the little sniff of a laugh that escapes at the end 

He grins at that and you can’t help but notice his free arm shifting to lay on the top edge of the booth “Try me” he gives you his full attention, something that makes you relax and feel safe...though your cheeks still feel like they’re on fire

"I figured being here was better than being home alone” you admit, looking down, not wishing to see his reaction and feel further embarrassment "My real friends worry I don't get out enough, that I'm alone too much"

After a second of silence you chance a peek up to find his soft smile hasn’t left "I get that...my friends are the same, though I have the opposite problem" he plays with his glass, a small scoff of a laugh coming through his nose "I don't have the best habit of going home alone" he makes his own confession before his head tilts “Why haven’t you left let?” he wonders, no malice or judgement in his voice "Besides my excellent company" he adds, lighting up at your giggle

“I want to...I just didn’t want to leave those alone” you nod across the table towards the small pile of bags

“Oh" his smile grows "If that's the only thing tying ya down” he places his glass down properly, standing up and grabbing one of the stray coats, throwing it gently over the bags before looking back at you, arm stretched out “Wanna get out here pretty girl?”

You smile back at him about to take his hand without a second thought when you stop yourself, glancing at your coworkers for a moment, then back at the man. You could be responsible, wait for them to get their bags and go home while also avoiding the potential heartbreak from the seasoned and flirtatious stranger before you, or…you be adventurous for once, take the leap of faith and maybe have a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life

“So?” he eyes you playfully, his smile positively beaming as you nod and accept his hand, letting him lead you out of the bar and into the snowy streets, unaware of your coworkers gobsmacked stares

“Where are we going?” you wonder with a laugh, coming to a stop as you wait for the crossing to flick to green, hearing cars hum as they whisk past 

He looks over at you with a toothy grin, turning to face you “Where do you want to go?” he leans down and flicks his nose upwards against yours, causing your heart to swoon and love at first sight suddenly seems like a very real threat “Got anything specific you want to do?” he raises his eyebrows 

“A few” you reveal “One more than the others” you grow brave, eyes locked onto his before they flick quickly down

“What’s stopping you?” he’s whispering now, the hot breath making you to feel lightheaded as he licks his lips

You giggle a little, licking your own before whispering back a soft “I’ve never kissed a stranger before” 

“I kiss too many strangers” he confesses, cheeks tinting but weirdly you don’t feel jealous, something about the way he’s treating you seems just as foreign to him

“If I tell you my name I'm not a stranger anymore” you reply, breathless with how his lips ghost yours "It's Y/n"

“Pretty name for a pretty girl” he states before connecting your lips

It’s softer than you’d thought it would be, sweeter, yet more thrilling than if it was solely fueled by passion. Never would you have thought the playboy boy in denim would kiss like a gentleman, that his hand would cup your cheek, thumb flicking over it like it was the most precious thing in the world 

“Wow” you breathe out, your chests heaving in time together as you pull away, opening your eyes to find his lips are plump, stained slightly around the edges from the remnants of your lipstick and your heart fills with new found pride at your handiwork

“Wow indeed” he lets out a breathy laugh, forehead kissing yours for a second before pulling back  “How does it feel to kiss a stranger?”

“Magical” you reply, looking down at your shoes as your unable to stop the silliest happy from smile taking over your face, but as you glance down at the floor you miss the twinkle in his eyes at your choice of words “How does it feel to kiss a girl called y/n?” you counter when you look back 

“Magical” he repeats your words but his are softer, like it’s the first time he’s truly meant them “I’m Sirius” he finally introduces himself

“Sirius” you confirm and he smiles, nodding “A pretty name for a pretty boy”

Thank you for reading ♡

[kiweegamez]

Hypnofury (May redesign. + Colour Alts)

MY DUMBASS REALISED I NEVER EVEN PUT THE LORE IN ARTFIGHT, SO YIPPEE. Also it was very similar to Toothless?

Ok so you may think the measurements are insane, look at Toothless for ref, this variant is slightly bigger than him.

So the Hypnofury, a variant in close relation to the Nightfury. Hypnofuries were said to reside with Flightmares when this was less than likely as this one had been seen fighting with Flightmare on sight. Hypnofuries are critically endangered there’s probably like 20 left. Yet they are no where near each other, being scattered everywhere.

They seem to reside in darker forest or cave areas, easily attracted by glowing algae. This one is a female. If seen next to a male, the difference is that the males are wider and smoother having less prominent fins. This species is extremely female dominant so it would be a miracle to have a male left.

Originally they had much smaller wings and were all together a lot smaller, therefore they were good for hunting sports. (As they used to be terrible terror size). But over time they became much larger like the current photo. Now the reason this is actually named a Hypnofury is because of the patterns, as they do consume glowing algae like a Flightmare (so competitive for food) they can make their patterns flash or glow for a bit. As rare as it is, the patterns confuse other dragons in low darkness due to how some (especially on the weird things on the head) can look like a dragon face, well, roughly resemble. And by moving around enough with the pulsing patterns they can temporarily charm other dragons (hypnotise them) while if two or more Hypnofuries are near they move around in a group, therefore the display is more effective and mesmerising. DIET: The diet of the Hypnofuries is rather odd, as it seems to selectively eat eels, glowing algae, fish, turtles, apples, and honeycomb. Hypnofuries just like their close relatives the Nightfury are agile terrors to Viking kind. They are better swimmers than Nightfuries given their larger spinal fins and have stronger legs built for swimming rather than running.

Also they have a very ill temper if in bright areas, given it’s harder for them to see, but this can be trained out of them. Other than that, they are rather curious, they remember faces and hold serious grudges, however they do like shiny objects and will often leave them underwater. They will also sometimes offer trades, sometimes having junk or stuff from a random traveler. (You can’t tell me she didn’t steal Hiccup’s peg leg once outside of the show 🫵)

They do NOT have retractable teeth.

Now the Hypnofuries roar is much more high pitched and echoey, while purposely pulsing their tone, this is due to their modified lungs, as they tend to look for bodies of water to swim and hunt they will sometimes even hide underwater waiting to ambush dragons (if desperate enough for food). They can be underwater for 40 mins until they need fresh air, however if currents are strong are choppy water conditions this number can drop drastically. Back to the species roar, this is for better underwater communication rather than on land. As their diaphragm is much stronger it also creates somewhat of a whistling grunt. So a very distinguishable sound from the Nightfury.

Roars:

POSSIBLE COLOUR VARIANTS.

Might draw them all officially one day.

[webbluvrsugar]

through and through. S.R fanfiction. CHAPTER TWO.

➠ fanfic masterlist ৎ୭

content warning: angst, female reader, no use of y/n.

Working with a broken heart was way tougher than what you thought it’d be, you’re talking to family and friends of the little girl but your mind is not really there, interrogations seem to be getting harder, the usual questions of ‘where were you last night from 1:30 A.M to 2:30 A.M?’ seem pointless because no matter how much they speak, you just feel like you’re not getting somewhere soon.

Shit, this is getting exhausting, even your usual seat at the jet doesn’t feel as comfortable as it usually is because now you’re sharing it with JJ, silently playing cards, and Spencer is on the other side of the room.

You wonder if he’s having as much trouble as you are trying to fall asleep.

Noticing your stares towards him, JJ finally speaks up.

“Have you talked to him?” The question makes your stomach churn.

“I… uhh…” you swallow, pretend to be way more interested on the game. “He doesn’t want to hear me..” you play a card.

Jennifer plays one back.

“Did you push?” She leans back against her seat.

“No, I don’t wanna bother him when he clearly doesn’t want to have this conversation.” You take time to play yours.

“Hm..” she whispers, again, she’s way quicker to make her move. “The thing with Spencer is that he’s stubborn, he might be a genius but he suddenly forgets all those kind of skills when it’s time to forgive,” you draw a card. “My opinion? You guys are going nowhere with this if you don’t talk it out, you’re draining each other.” She plays her last card, beating you to your favourite game. “Point proven, I’ve never beat you to this before.”

You huff, take time to store the cards neatly with a tight elastic band around them.

“Go to sleep, or at least try to, it’s the most decent thing you’re gonna get until the hotel and we need you here, not anywhere else.” She lays down, you follow her moves.

She closes her eyes, you stare at the ceiling thinking about the mess you’ve unknowingly caused on yourself.

You think about that case in Tennessee, the one that screwed you up so bad you chose to run away instead of leaning into the people who provided you support.

‘“You have to tell him you’re going away.” Again, Jennifer’s wise voice rings in your mind but it’s nothing more than a memory now.

“I can’t do that to him.” You say, whispering as you stare back at him, fluid steps bringing him closer to you.

“Well, lying is even worse.” The blonde says, grabbing her cup of coffee and walking away, at the same time, Spencer gets to you.

“What was that?” Spencer speaks, reaching for a clean mug.

“Nothing, she’s just having a bad day.” You take a sip of your coffee.

“Clearly.” He points out with a chuckle. “Are we.. do you still..” he trails off, swallowing nervously before he speaks. “Are we still on Saturday night?” He asks, pours the coffee onto his mug.

‘Lying is even worse’ you remember her saying.

“I —“ you don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. “We are.” You nod, he smiles.’

Spencer was one of those people, looking back now, you think he could’ve helped.

You look at him one last time and, reluctantly, you close your eyes to try and sleep.

taglist: @austinmoonspancakes @cowboy1ikereid @alphabetically-deranged

[leighsartworks216]

Thinking about Sylus x assassin reader (specifically basing it on the Raven but vague enough to just generally be an assassin)

@comatosebunny09 I couldn't decide whether to dm you about this or make a full post about it so you're getting tagged anyway lmao

Specifically thinking about pain. Like, during sex, knifeplay and things like that, anything that is generally painful for the sake of pleasure. Playing into that a lot, into needing that pain to feel good, but... it's not really true

You get tortured so much for your job, more than you'd like to admit, so bringing that pain into the bedroom isn't actually great, but you have an image to hold about being immune to torture, so...

You're good at keeping up the act, too, until Sylus cradles your face so softly in his hands and kisses you sweet and slow. Hands caressing, not pinching or slapping or hurting you. And you want to fight back against it, you bite his lip, silently begging for pain, but he doesn't give it to you. He chuckles and trails light kisses down your neck, and he feels the shiver that runs through you

And it's confusing, it's scary, it's the great unknown. You think maybe he's doing this for some gain, a new sort of torture method that lowers your guard and strikes you when you're down. He has to be - why would he be soft with you? Why is he kissing your scars instead of adding to them? Why isn't he trying to draw blood? What is he trying to get out of you?

But it's the best damn thing you've ever felt. Someone who treats your skin like fine silk instead of a punching bag. Someone who holds you tenderly instead of grappling you. Someone who backs off when you flinch away

Crying after the second time it happens, because the first time you're too on guard to even get through it, but this time you trust him enough to give in and you've never been hit with a stronger orgasm. You've never whimpered and gasped like this, you've never had to stop at one orgasm when there's an overstimulating pain that comes from going on, but he stops, he holds you, he kisses you softly

[lostintransist]

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 2

-…. ….- ..—- .—— / .-. . -.-. —- .-. -.. . -.. / -.. . .- -..

Part 1 found here.

CW: Very light sexual content, allergic reaction bad enough to need medical intervention, panic, dissociation

Johnny lay in the nest, warmed by Kyle who had shifted to fill the chill that John left when he had gone to answer the door. Simon lazily trails his nose over Johnny’s scent gland, drawing a light whimper from his throat.

Kyle leans in and presses their lips together, coaxing as his hand begins to trace muscles. Johnny settles a hand on Simon’s thigh, running his fingers through the hair he found there. They were off duty for another two weeks and taking full advantage of Simon’s oncoming rut. He would only be deeply affected for 48 hours but the men always pooled their leave times to give them an extra week off.

This being the third year of them taking a few weeks off for each of their ruts/heats the rest of the large team knew and adjusted for the absence of their leader and core team. Kate kept track of everyone on their specific jobs.

Simon started to harden up behind Johnny. Hands drifting over his body had Johnny closing his eyes and leaning into his lovers. The teeth at his nipple surprised him to the point of recoiling. Simon had the misfortune of resting at the edge of the bed. He hit the floor with a thump. Kyle and Johnny shared a look before they both started to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So funny,” Simon stood, rubbing his butt that had taken the brunt of the fall.

The men on the bed smirked as they now watched Simon stand a bit more at attention under their eyes. Before they can get Simon back into the nest John steps into the bedroom, shutting the door hard behind him.

They watch as John strips off his robe and strides into the shared closet. Kyle can only open his mouth before John is answering the yet-unspoken question.

“We need to get dressed. Kate brought us a wife.”

That had all of them moving. What the hell did he mean?

Scrambling into the closet each of them grabs the necessary clothes before shifting to standing around the nest so everyone has the elbow room they need to dress.

“John, what do you mean Kate brought us a wife?” Kyle asks after his head emerges from his turtleneck.

“Kate brought us a beta woman. She would like us to stop being so reckless on jobs. Thinks that having someone to come home to will keep us from killing ourselves on jobs.” John sits to put his socks on, threading a socked foot into his pants before standing and doing them up.

“So what’s the plan then Captain?” Simon questions as he feeds his belt through the loops of his pants. “Obviously we don’t need a beta.”

“A wife wouldn’t be terrible though,” Johnny pointed out as he tucked his thin layer into his pants and grabbed his own jumper. A bonnie to hold and smile at them when they stumble in through the door? That sounded amazing to him.

“The plan is Johnny and Kyle will be taking her to town for some clothes and a bed. Kate insists she gets a bed and a space to retreat to. Simon, I want you to see what you can sniff out from her clothes. Maybe check what Kate has been up to lately.” John pauses, shirt tucked into his armpits as he prepares to lift it over his head. “Something about her smells…wrong. You have a more sensitive nose than I do, I need your opinion on her. I’ll start working on cleaning out the room behind the kitchen.”

“What are Kyle and I watching for then John?” Johnny runs a hand over his hair, deciding that he wouldn’t need to do much about it since he would be putting on a beanie shortly.

“Anything we can glean from her. She didn’t say much after Kate left. Watched me until I came upstairs, lot of thoughts behind those eyes though. You’ll see what I mean.” John opened the door that led to the stairs.

They all trailed after him. John had been right. Something smelled off about you. Almost broken? It reminded Johnny of the time Simon said his sauce had “broke” and the fats and water and flavors no longer sat well together.

You are standing at the front window, staring out over the vast stretch of forest they owned all around the property. They had chosen this spot deliberately five years ago when they were buying land to build their home on. It backed up to a national forest and they would never have to worry about neighbors.

Johnny approaches you around the couch. You pull back slightly from the window and notice the fog your breath left on the glass. A finger is lifted, leaving a frowny face in its wake. When you turn to look at him Johnny sees what John meant about your eyes.

You don’t leak scents of displeasure or fear like anyone else would in this situation; no, the feelings bubble in your eyes instead. Your stress sat in your shoulders and the slight bend in your knees, not in your scent gland.

“‘ello, you can call me Johnny. We’re going to town to get you supplies for your room.” He smiles gently at you. You only narrow your eyes in response. “Where did Kate put your coat?”

You look from eye to eye three times before answering. “Kate didn’t get me a coat. Only had cash and she said I needed clothes more.”

Johnny liked Kate. He had never wanted to slap her more than in this moment though. Nodding once he lifted a hip to rest on the couch as he folded his arms. You wince as his anger is communicated through the air. Simon complained that his anger tasted of burning rubber.

“I have a coat you can borrow until we get you one in town. Would that be okay?” He probes gently.

The narrowing of your eyes is exactly what he expected. You were going to take a long time to trust them.

“How about we get the truck started and then you only need to wear it between the house and the car?” Johnny offered.

“Fine.” You cross your arms and cast your gaze back to the snow beyond the window.

Twisting Johnny catches Kyle’s eye as he lurks in the kitchen.

“Grab my coats would you?” He tilts his head to their new wife as if Kyle hadn’t heard the conversation echo due to the acoustics of the home.

Kyle grabs both coats from the closet near the front door and drops a kiss on Johnny’s lips before leaving to start the truck. John catches him with a kiss and a whisper. Johnny offers both coat options to you and watches with a smile as you grab the coat that smells less strongly of him.

By unspoken agreement Kyle and Johnny let you learn about them through the conversations they have during the drive. It takes nearly an hour despite the roads being clear and dry. The tourists creeping their way up the mountain roads always slowed things down. Kyle dropped you and Johnny off to head further into town to pick up a bed frame and a mattress.

Johnny watches you as you drift from store to store. They lived close to a ski resort and had several stores that sold everything from socks to pants and coats. You picked soft clothes, muted colors, and several of the same socks and underwear. He only saw your face light up once. You were softly stroking a garishly bright shawl as you held it up to the mirror. When you saw Johnny lift his brows at you in said mirror you put it back and moved on. He made note of its position in the store before following you.

When Kyle came back Johnny filled the back seat with the various bags.

“‘bout time for lunch, any preference?” Kyle asks you.

You shake your head looking much warmer in real winter boots and a long coat. Johnny had insisted at the last store visited that you needed a hat and a scarf as well. Hands shoved into your pockets you are covered as Simon is on jobs, nose tucked against the cold.

It is decided that a new Thai spot would be the answer. Johnny pulls the keys from Kyle’s hand and a kiss.

“I’ll be right there,” he murmured against his cheek before turning and disappearing around a corner.

When he slides into the booth next to you the food is hot and ready on the table.

“Didn’t know what you would like so I got a platter for the table,” Kyle hands you a bundle, a napkin wrapped around a fork, and a spoon.

Conversation flows, Kyle and Johnny are careful to leave space for you to add your thoughts on matters like what they should have for dinner or if they should roast marshmallows in the fire tonight. You pick at your food and watch them watch you. When Johnny and Kyle have eaten their fill and boxed up the remaining food they settle the bill and you follow them into the grocery store next door to the restaurant.

Kyle, ever practical, heads up the pharmacy first. You and Johnny follow.

He tosses a box of condoms to Johnny who catches it with ease, even with his off-hand.

“Do we need any of these?”

This is cause for you to break your silence.

“You won’t need those for me.” You are cut off with a cough, fist to your face.

“These aren’t for you, but why wouldn’t you need them?” Johnny glances over at you, brow cocked.

Your hand has moved, cupping your throat as you cough into your other elbow. A light sweat has started across your face and the coughs are getting harsher. When wheezing starts and your body begins to crunch in on itself Johnny takes off for a different section of the pharmacy.

Hollering at the pharmacist behind the counter he points your direction, “I need an epipen!”

The pharmacist tosses it to him over the counter and low shelves between them as she darts for the door. Johnny doesn’t wait, racing back to you. He couldn’t hear much over the racing of his heart. They hadn’t even had a wife for six hours and she was dying on them!

Kyle has you laid out on the floor as you gasp for air. Sliding in next to you as if he were stealing a base Johnny removes the EpiPen from its travel case, uncaps and presses his thumb down to the top, and slams home the needle into your outer thigh.

He starts counting to thirty, the pharmacist appearing at his side before he reaches ten. By fifteen you are gulping down air as tears steak into your hair.

“There is a clinic two buildings down from here.” She glances over you as she dials something on her phone. Fingers reach for your neck as she takes your pulse.

Kyle gently takes the hand batting at the pharmacist, placing a light kiss on the knuckles. You are sobbing now, heaving breaths and tears streaming down your temples.

“Hi, this is Dr. Kumar, the pharmacist down the street. I have a beta woman incoming with her partners for an allergic reaction. We have administered an EpiPen on site but since I am not an MD I am sending her to you to confirm she is okay.” Dr. Kumar pointed to Kyle with two fingers, then to you, and hooked at thumb toward the front door.

“We gotcha bonnie, we will keep you safe.” He murmured the mindless words of comfort at you, unable to keep from attempting to soothe you as your fear punched into his nose. Interesting, that.

Johnny pulled the pen from your leg, needle already retracted, and passed it off to Dr. Kumar as he helped sit you up. Breaths are coming easier already, your skin is clammy and your eyes wild. You hold onto Johnny’s hand like the last life raft from the Titanic. Kyle shifts his hands under your thighs, standing to the gasps of several old women. Johnny caught sight of them fanning themselves as they pushed through the crowd that had formed.

Dr. Kumar, still on the phone, directed people out of the way with a sharp word and saw them off at the door, face worried. Johnny nodded to her once as he kept pace with Kyle. Thank the gods that John ensured they all stayed in top form.

Your words are getting clearer the closer they get to the clinic.

“Please don’t let them touch me. Don’t leave me alone. Please. Please. Please.”

“We won’t leave you alone,” Kyle shifted one arm to hold you, rubbing your back with the other. “Just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am going to call John, can you handle this until I get off the phone?” Johnny winces at the tight grip you have on his hand. “Lass, Kyle will kill anyone who tries to hurt you.”

They pause outside the clinic where Johnny words his fingers free of yours. The look of panic on your face will haunt him until he dies.

Kyle chokes slightly as you clamp down on his neck with your arms. The clinic staff opened the door for him, ushering him straight to the back room. Johnny dials John’s number from memory rather than searching for it. Cars drift past him as he waits He picks up on the third ring.

“How is it going with our new wife, Johnny?” He grunts as if moving something heavy.

“Poorly. We nearly lost her in the pharmacy.”

“Well did you find her?” John huffs, slightly out of breath.

“Na John, she had an allergic reaction to something from lunch. Had to stab her in the leg with an EpiPen. Kyle is in the clinic with her right now.” Johnny crushed a small ball of ice and snow beneath his boot on the sidewalk.

“The fuck happened Johnny?” The sounds from the phone tell him that Simon is now listening too.

“Don’t know John, had lunch at the new Thai restaurant, went to the pharmacy and she started to cough and then couldn’t breathe. Kyle got her to lie down and I got meds from the pharmacist. Kyle is in the clinic with her now. I’ve never seen someone so panicked to go to the doc,” Johnny shoves his other hand in a pocket, focusing on crushing another ball of ice.

“Hold on, I am calling Kate,” John warns. The line goes silent.

Johnny looks into the clinic, seeing nothing beyond the simple decor and the receptionist behind the tall counter.

“Kate, our new wife had an allergic reaction at lunch. Is there anything else she should know about her?” John questions with barely contained rage.

A sigh is the only response at first.

“I don’t know John. I haven’t found all of her records yet.”

“What the fuck do you mean you haven’t found her records yet Kate? Where did you find her?”

“John, all I have on her is from the two weeks before the FBI raided. There is a lot I can’t tell you but what I can say on this unsecured line is you should do some research on arachnids.”

She drops off the line with a click. Scowling at the distance Johnny bites back the urge to start yelling at Kate. More riddles and questions.

“Get her home, Simon and I will clear out the peanuts from the house,” John sighs into his ear.

“Why peanuts? It could have been anything in the meal.” Johnny watches as a group of skiers, colorful as tropical birds, walk across the street on the opposite side.

“Could have been, but a swipe of peanut butter on her hand when she gets back will confirm. It’s a really common allergy and we won’t have time to take her for an allergy test until after Simon’s rut.”

Johnny nods to himself and then verbalizes his agreement before ending the call. The receptionist leads him straight back when he steps through the door.

You sit on the bed, eyes wide and light gone from them, quietly singing Edelweiss. Kyle stands with arms folded and back stiff. His work face is on. Something had happened.

“You are more than you appear, wife,” Johnny took your hand as he settled into a chair conveniently next to the bed. You stay distant until halfway through the drive home.

A/N: I did not mean for it to go this way... I keep fighting with myself to let everyone live to the end of the story....

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

[0pooleart]

Sonic Redesign Masterpost

One thing I've always passively thought about the Sonic franchise is that it's great, but also always felt just a bit short of perfection in a bunch of random aspects (mostly some character designs and some stories). Around like late August of 2024 I sketched out some redesigns for some of the main Sonic characters, and I quickly realized that I kinda physically had to not only redesign like, all vaguely notable characters from across the entire franchise (not just the games) but I also really wanted to rewrite a ton of stories, so I just like, did, you know? I'm basically obsessed now so here's a giant masterpost that's more about the thoughts behind my redesigns than just the images. Don't expect this to be super organized and fun to read lol

(and I can feel the hyperfixation dying down so I really should just get this out there)

Also, if you'd rather read it in the form of a Google Doc, here's the link to that: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VvXMzQ2kr7HrqmUd0Z7Aa9xCprUZ1ojm5cD8lcAEjbQ/edit?usp=sharing

First things first, for one, Mobius and Earth are two distinct planets, and Mobians are one set species. I didn't think that was a crazy idea until I actually watched a video detailing how current Sonic treats the setting but yeah, I really want them to just be completely different planets.

Origins

Anyway, the main draw for rewriting most Sonic stories was the fact that he doesn't really have a canon origin in the main series games (yet?) so I felt the need to give him one, and a more discrete timeline. However, everything starts with Eggman (and this is a heavily truncated version):

Robotnik enters Mobius via a Ring portal (similar to how the movies portray them), but he's instead a skinny, charming young man (similar again to Jim Carrey's Eggman in the movies, a drawing of him is further down). At first he pitches his little, cutesy animal inventions to the Mobian public, and they actually like them quite a lot. He's not without an ulterior motive though, and as his inventions get more and more popular, he actually hires some Mobians to help produce them. He begins building his business over the years, using the unique powers Mobians have to boost production. He even gives some of his workers their own homes built up with his technology, but he starts using this as a way to control them, since he basically can take away their whole lives if he so chooses. As he keeps building and building, he steals more and more resources from Mobius, and he builds over the Mobian city he started in (haven't really specified what it was yet), slowly making it his own over time. The only place he knows he shouldn't touch (just to stay in the good graces of Mobians) is Green Hill, a place that's sort of sacred, but more sacred in the way art is sacred, since it's a place hand built by ancient Mobians to be a wild place for them to roam free. Time passes Robotnik has been fattened up by his personal chef/baker Vanilla, and he's settled into being in control of so much of Mobius.

It's around this time when Sonic is born into the factory (of course given the canon name Ogilvie at first). He's taken away from his parents, whoever they are, immediately, and is put to work as soon as he's able to push a button. As he grows up, he's obviously too restless to do something so sterile, so he's put to work on the hamster wheels that power the Robotnik Empire. He never even thinks there's anything special out for him in the world, but eventually he, like the other workers, is given his semi-yearly vacation to the Green Hill, where they can recover their will to live. However, Ogilvie is so completely overrun with joy that he just runs off, never to return to the factory again. Eventually, of course, he changes his name to Sonic to fit his new life of just running around Green Hill.

Robotnik catches wind of there being a deserter, and decides to set out his robots, who secretly had battle functions all this time, into Green Hill to catch him. This is essentially where the first game would begin, just Sonic running around destroying Robotnik's robots as they come at him. However, Robotnik has a second in command: A young, two-tailed fox who he found outcast on the streets, who had a surprising knack for machines, something he didn't see in many other Mobians. He was named Miles Prower, and he grew up working for the one person who didn't ostracize him for his tails or his skills. He was only around 12 when Sonic, approx 16, escaped, and he was tasked with leading some of their more sophisticated creations into battle. 

Robotnik came along too with his own weapons, but they were both completely outmatched by Sonic's unbridled confidence and cockiness. Robotnik tore out what hair he had in anger, and of course that's when Sonic taunted him with his new nickname Eggman. Since Miles was there too, and he felt like he was on a roll, he called Miles "Tails," but Miles' reaction was much more ashamed than he expected, so he felt a bit off about that one. After the fight, Miles was repairing the machine Sonic destroyed, but he found him and met him on more even terms, and tried to convince him that there's probably a much better life for him out with him. He wasn't totally convinced yet, and couldn't exactly just defect from Robotnik like Sonic did, so Sonic left him be for now.

This is the general part where I start writing too many fine details, so basically Miles slowly starts enjoying himself more and more fighting Sonic and meeting him after the fight. He even adopts the "Tails" nickname for himself on the card of a present he drops off for Sonic, which was his much more durable and iconic sneakers. He finally breaks away from Eggman completely during an aerial assault on Sonic, where he prepared some supplies in the plane he was set to pilot, so he could take it away with him. He even was able to use some scrap from the battle to build a workshop for himself to live and work while Sonic still mostly just roamed free. This is around the point where the second game would start, since Tails has joined the cast and they can both battle Eggman together. If this were to be a game, I'd want Tails to be in the cockpit of each boss in the first game, so it helps set up his inclusion in the second, but obviously this is just a random floating idea for now. This isn't meant to be a concrete game/comic/animation/whatever.

But, that sets up most of the future events, even though there are some major stories to come, so on to the designs themselves:

As for overall Mobian redesigns, I always thought their giant ass hands and feet sometimes got in the way of their expressiveness, if they didn't just look kinda doofy (especially with characters like Knuckles) so the generic "Mobian" template has a smaller head, feet, and hands, and has a generally longer torso. Basically they just have slightly more """realistic""" proportions even though they're still obviously cartoony, just more realistic on the spectrum compared to the canon designs. And, since they're all one species, that means they evolved over time to match some of the animals around them, like a macro-evolution version of how Chao take on animal traits. That also means that the animal parts of their names are more like tribe affiliations, since they aren't actually the animals they say they are. For example, Knuckles the Echidna isn't an echidna in the species sense, he'd just call himself that to show he's affiliated with the Echidna tribe, and more generally that his people took on traits of the local echidna-echidnas. Meanwhile, characters like Tails/Miles Prower have a more family-based last name and a nickname for reasons I'll get into later. Also aside from that, I wanted characters that are Reptiles and Insects (Espio and Charmy mainly) to seem more unique from the mammals, so they look more distinct. And even the mammals look more animalistic in general, with longer snouts, getting rid of that weirdly detached muzzle thing most Mobian characters seem to have. Characters that are like Cats and Rabbits don't end up changing much since they aren't known for having long snouts anyway.

Sonic

Sonic was obviously the first one I tried redesigning so his design went through a bunch of changes, but the first thing I dealt with with him was his stupid conjoined eye thing. Obviously in that classic CD animation everyone loves it works out because its super stylized and simple, and all the current Mania versions of him make it work too, but it's really hard to unsee now in his modern designs. It's obviously meant to be like a Garfield type of thing, where it's just a cartoony way of having two eyes close together, but nowadays it really feels more like a Lightning McQueen type of eye windshield. If every Mobian had that then I'd keep it and just call it a stylistic thing, but no, only Hedgehogs have them, so... At first I tried representing that by making him have some kind of goggles to protect his eyes from the wind as he runs, but I couldn't get that to work, so I just split his eyes up. In his goggles-form I gave him this black brim to the goggles to kind of mirror Shadow's random red eye splotch he has, and since I liked that enough I kept a small bit of it in the current design. I also gave him some kind of double-sock type thing going on with much more athletic-seeming stuff to go under his more fluffy socks and gloves, which didn't feel all that necessary until I removed them at some point, and that just made him feel extra naked somehow. I do like them though. And, of course, he's actually wearing rings.

Aside from that, I kinda inadvertently made him look a lot like his Movie version, with his extra frazzled quills and blue arms and such. I definitely feel like he benefits from being extra sharp, so I added a bunch of spikes to things like his chest and shoulders. Even though it's not really important to mention I might as well, but the weird thing I think about his arms is that his normal Game design does basically need tan arms, but I actually think overall there's no reason not to give him blue arms in a form like this. It just makes sense.

Tails

Tails is mostly unchanged, just making his face fur blend more smoothly into his face instead of just being solo hairs glued on. His chest fur is more like a ball of fluff focused more around his actual chest, instead of just being a flat pattern on his stomach. I also gave him bigger ears for a bit of fennec energy, and a red scarf so his red shoes aren't the only red on his design. Aside from that, it's all just restylization, like making his tails extra fluffy.

Eggman (and Miles)

I'm still torn on what I want Eggman to truly look like. At first I wanted him to look a bit more like his SatAM-style version, with really short legs and a big fat belly, but then after seeing more and more fanart of him I tried to give him back his weirdly scrawny legs. No matter what though, he needed to have a giant coat with a massive collar to show his impression of himself. Also, I will always want to preserve his iconic smile, where his big toothy grin is basically glued to his mustache. That's pure Eggman.

And of course there's pre-Sonic Tails there too, with his fur very organized and clean, and with a much more grim demeanor. I also thought his tails would also be a lot less fluffy, and he kind of wraps them together like how a person wrings their hands together when they feel shy or awkward, showing how he hasn't fully embraced his mutation yet.

This is a quick little sketch I did of younger, thinner, and less bald Eggman when he first enters Mobius. 

After them, there are some characters that'd just be appearing around this point in the story, so here they are:

Amy… the Cat?

So for the longest time, I legitimately believed Amy was a cat, so I decided to make her a cat. It's that simple. She never really looked like a hedgehog, anyway. Plus, I do want to keep the main group as being Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Amy, so it'd be nice if they were all different "species." Aside from that, I just made her former quills look like much more fluffy and soft hair, and gave her long sleeves just because this drawing convinced me it was a good idea. However, I did do a quick sketch to see how she would look if I kept her a Hedgehog, and in that one I took away the long sleeves since I thought that would be annoying with her chest/shoulder quills.

As for how she meets Sonic, she's working under Eggman as a blacksmith when Eggman starts going berserk over actually losing both a devoted worker and his right-hand fox. He puts up signs everywhere asking for people to enlist into an army with the sole purpose to capture him, but Amy is instead just smitten with this rebellious hunk she's just now heard of. She joins Eggman's forces, but breaks off on her own to join him. He's super willing to let anyone join, but since Tails knew how devoted to Eggman some Mobians could be, he thinks she's a spy at first. Over time, though, she proves herself, even if she can't quite catch up to Sonic.

Cream, Cheese, and Vanilla

Cream was always perfect, but I really hated that Vanilla was basically just a taller copy of Cream, so I tried to give her her own identity. Also since they're all named after food I decided to specifically make Vanilla a baker/chef, which also meant I could turn the one tuft of hair on her head onto an ice cream-y dollop. And even though that was decided before I decided to make Eggman start off skinny, it also meant that I could make her a pretty major part of Eggman's life, being the one who makes desserts so good he just couldn't help himself. Even though Eggman definitely loves stomping on the hopes and dreams of Mobians, he's actually quite fond of Vanilla (not in that way, thank god) and tolerates Cream. As for Cheese, I had this big idea of how to redesign all Chao mechanics a while ago, and one such idea was to have Luck and Intelligence forms of Chao just like the other stats, and I decided to make Cheese a Neutral/Luck Chao just before he evolves into his main adult evolution, since he's lucky to have Cream by his side. Literally. He's only with her because Eggman was experimenting with Chao, and Cream caught him in the act, and he tried to save face by giving her Cheese as a gift, which definitely took him off her radar. 

But, also, since when do rabbits only have one kid?

They're just rough ideas for now (except for Milk and Sugar for reasons) (and I also thought of there being a baby Butter as well but I can't be assed to save a new version of the sketch). Even though it doesn't make sense for each kid to be a different age, since rabbits more so have large litters, I just think this is more fun from a design perspective. Also, Vanilla having so many kids to worry about makes it more reasonable why she's so beholden to Eggman. She definitely can't just get up and leave when she has to worry about all of them. 

As for how Cream meets Sonic, I literally have a whole animated short planned out in my head because, if you couldn't tell, she's easily one of my favorite Sonic characters, but the gist is that once Eggman "gifts" her Cheese, Cheese starts drawing crude drawings depicting how Eggman treated him and other Chao. Cream slowly catches on to Eggman's evil in her own oblivious little way, and eventually just… walks out. Much to Vanilla's dismay. As she leaves though, Vanilla basically snaps from her goodie-goodie persona and practically holds a knife to Eggman's throat, telling him if any robot ever harms Cream while she's out there, "so help me god…" He relents as much as he can. Meanwhile, Cream just keeps walking to Green Hill. Tails notices her as he's flying the Tornado, and picks her up. She's a little disappointed that everyone's basically just living in the wild or Tails' crude workshop, but they try to make due for her pampered little self.

After that comes the first big story since the Origin/random extra happenings. 

Knuckles

Honestly I feel like Knuckles has to be one of my top redesigns. I definitely needed him to look more buff and big compared to Sonic, but not quite to the level of Boom Knuckles, and I think I really nailed it. Not only that, but making his coat and "skin" color darker just works so well. And, of course, with the dread-bands/paint of his tribe. Him just looking so much more square also just fits so well.

Knuckles starts off as usual guarding the Master Emerald all alone on Angel Island, but soon Eggman visits him without any armada, reading about the Chaos Emerald's power and finally wanting to use it to stop Sonic. He does his usual schtick of convincing Knuckles that Sonic is the real threat, and since Knuckles was so isolated he didn't even know who Eggman was, and joins him to stop Sonic. 

However, Tails isn't stupid, and keeps a solid ear to what Eggman is doing, and hears about his plan to take the Chaos Emeralds, so he and the others set out on a world-sprawling journey to get the Emeralds before he does. However, they aren't the only ones looking for treasure…

Rouge

Technically I redesigned Rouge first out of everyone, but for other reasons than the franchise-wide redesign. This is basically an adaptation of that. Similar to Amy, whose design was cursed by Girl-Character-Syndrome, I also wanted to fix up Rouge by going where no anthro female character has gone before… giving her a bare crotch. Crazy. The boys can run around stark naked while the girls can't not wear full body clothing, so someone had to pick up the slack. She at least has her top covered, but that's mainly because I'm kind of a sucker for her heart-boob thing. I really can't deny it. Oh yeah and the heart motif continues into her nose, because she's a bat, of course it would. Bats literally have heart-shaped noses but they didn't bother even giving her a tiny heart-shaped nose in canon. AND she even has full body fur, because her being completely bald across her body is even more of a sin to me than forcing her to wear full body clothing. Anyway, she's got dark skin too, because obviously, and I tried making her arms her wings at some point but I also wanted her to have normal humanoid hands, and that just didn't mesh well, so she's still got back wings. Aside from all that, I gave her a long index fingernail on her glove for lockpicking purposes or whatever, it just seemed like a weirdly fitting thing for a character once called Nails.

Anyway, Sonic and co stumble upon Rouge who had the same goal as they did, but of course with a different motive, although she promises to play nice and help them find the Emeralds (until she betrays them once they have them all)

At every Emerald, each situated in a different biome, they encounter Knuckles, who uses the elemental power of each Emerald to fight Sonic, although Sonic is usually able to snatch the Emerald away from him and make away with it. After every fight, Knuckles is more and more sure that Sonic is a threat, but once Sonic and co actually have them all, and find the Master Emerald too, Eggman is the one to make the first move, and snatches them away all at once to power the giant mech he built behind the scenes just for the Emeralds. Everyone teams up to steal back the Emeralds again, and Sonic feels a strange power inside of them and the Master Emerald. He asks Knuckles what it could be, and he says the Master Emerald must have determined that he should be granted their ultimate power. Sonic seems stoked, but Knuckles is seriously worried, thinking back to the tales his people told him of what happened last time… but thankfully this time, Sonic just turns an electric yellow, beats Eggman's mech to a pulp, and turns back to normal once the deed is done. Knuckles is a bit shocked, but relieved.

With all threats neutralized, Knuckles accepts that he was wrong, and makes amends, but he stays with the Master Emerald. Rouge goes off on her own again, too.

It's at this point, while still on Mobius, some other characters probably emerge. This could happen either after or during the previous events.

Sally Acorn

Even though I don't have much personal nostalgia for Sally, she used to be such a big deal that I couldn't NOT add her to the roster. Like Amy, I also got her species wrong, since I thought she was a squirrel and they just didn't have the guts to give her a big, bushy tail, but I was remiss to hear that she was actually a chipmunk, meaning her redesign couldn't have that amazing tail… but chipmunks do have pretty iconic patterns, so I made sure to include that in her hair. Apart from that, you can see all the changes. I imagined her home town being smaller, and even though she could be the daughter of her town's mayor, she wouldn't be a princess. I never really got princess vibes from her. Oh yeah, and she's still smol, like how she was always drawn in her original era. She can make up for it with her spunk. She would also have her own Speed/Fly/Power dynamic with Ray and Mighty, who are also still smol.

Bunnie Rabbot

I basically just mish-mashed all the parts of Bunnie's various designs that I liked, but the main part of her is her new story. She basically lives in this classic Western-style town held under Eggman's boot, and she's hired as an outlaw to catch Sonic, where she was given robotic enhancements both to give her extra power but also so Eggman could more directly control her. She's also the "bawss" of Fang and Trip, other outlaws hired by Eggman. Even though she doesn't personally hate Sonic, she needs to do what Eggman says, or else she knows he'll wreak havoc on her town. No amount of speeches about friendship and being a good person could turn her.

After all those events, the next stage of the story begins, where at some point Sonic goes Super to fight Eggman, but Eggman was ready. He manages to suck the Emerald power right out of him to power his ultimate plan--- the thing he more or less planned on doing from the moment he stepped foot on Mobius. However, the damage Sonic and co did to his plans during that time caused it to go haywire, sending giant white explosions shooting across the entire planet of Mobius. Practically every Mobian was transported to Earth, Sonic X style. And not just the people, but massive chunks of the planet too had warped on to Earth, practically fusing the two planets together.

But of course that opens up too many stories so time for a rapid-fire design overview lol

Chaos & Tikal

Obviously the events of Adventure would be next, but for the most part Tikal's design is just updated to match the new Knuckles. With Chaos however, I slightly changed his story to make it so that he mutated from a Chao for when he first turned into Perfect Chaos and destroyed the Echidna clan, and obviously making it so that he used to be a Neutral Chaos Chao. I also have a whole animated short mentally planned out of that moment which I'd kill to create. After the events of Adventure though, instead of like getting dragged off to Heaven or whatever Chaos is instead gifted just a little bit of power from the Master Emerald so that he could maintain a more solid form than his 0 form so he could live alongside people (as much as a water monster can), and in this form (which I'm calling Controlled Chaos) he looks more like a Chaos Chao and of course he also has an emotion ball, which the Chao quickly recognize and accept him in with them. I also like to think he could replace the role of Gemerl from the comics, where he is the superpowered being that helps protect Cream and her family (although clearly Vanilla is a bit more hesitant)

As for the events of the Adventure story itself, it's mostly the same, except for the fact that Knuckles wasn't at the Emerald when Eggman broke it open because he was slacking off alongside Sonic, which he beats himself up about before realizing the Emerald can be repaired. Also, with their Master destroyed, the Chaos Emeralds actually turn into chaotic masses of power that greatly affect the areas around them, making them more dangerous to obtain for Sonic and co. For example, maybe Ice Cap wasn't really that icy, but the Emerald Sonic was to get from there turned whatever it was before into a frigid mess. Maybe it would also spawn some sort of boss for them to fight to protect itself.

Also, here's Big. He's mostly the same except I wanted him to look more wild and unkempt. I also made it so he actually has a giant mouth, because in all his modern forms I honestly think his really tiny mouth looks super weird. 

Oh yeah and I guess one major thing I changed about all Mobians, they actually have feet and not just weird nubs. Really expanding the boundaries of design.

I also have ideas for Gamma and Omega from here, but it mostly boils down to Gamma actually having more personal interactions with the main cast, and once his story finishes and he explodes, Eggman laments that his best creation was going to waste, so he decided to rebuild him… but with less empathy. This backfires when the new Omega is disgusted by Eggman's method of just rebuilding him, and lashes out, going off to join the cause against him.

Then, for Adventure 2…

Shadow

For the most part, I just updated him to match Sonic's design, and gave him cooler gloves/shoes, but the main change is that I want him to feel more like a crazy genetic experiment. For one, you can see that he actually has gills similar to those of the Biolizard in his base form, probably just to help him take in more air/energy so he is less likely to tire, but more importantly I want his inhibitor rings to essentially be holding in the Doom powers he gets in Shadow Generations. When he takes them off, he basically becomes a darker shapeshifting mass that can barely hold himself together, instead of just becoming an objectively more powerful version of himself like in his canon form. It also makes more sense, since Gerald probably made those rings as he was ashamed that he had to resort to giving him Black Doom's DNA, and so that he could interact with Maria without hurting her.

The other big change is to Maria herself, who I wanted to be as goth as Shadow is, with her being more of the rambunctious goth type than an emo goth. I was always kind of annoyed at how generic anime-UwU precious babey Maria always was (even though she was greatly improved in Shadow Generations and Movie 3) so I thought making her have a more fun/imperfect personality would be more interesting, and would be more impactful during the Ark raid where she turns from a full-nonsense personality to someone who's actually afraid and desperate. I don't really have a solid visual design for her right now, but I've had a couple of iterations. I kind of want her to look less assured than she does here

Team Chaotix

You have NO IDEA how much I needed to change Charmy and Espio. Charmy looked like a weird cat/bear with a bee tail and Espio looked like some completely unrecognizable animal, even though you might be able to at least assume he's a chameleon if you knew his powers. 

For Charmy, I just needed to give him big bulging black eyes, a jagged mouth, and another set of arms to really show that he's an insect. If nothing else, it at least makes it obvious that he can't be anything BUT an insect. As for Espio, I decided that I could give reptilian Mobians various scales on their body instead of the mammals' chest coloring or whatever. I also gave him a more unique head shape and that weird fin thing which is much more chameleon-iconic than what he had before, and even gave him that wrinkly eyelid thing they have, while still giving him a more humanized expression.

As for Vector, since he was the rare Mobian who had an actually unique body type and head design, he stayed mostly the same. He's the main reason why I know the character designers at Sonic Team aren't ALWAYS copy-pasting their body types. I did have to change his outfit, mostly just to get rid of his weird shoulder-ball things which never will make any sense. What even are they?

Now, for the biggun

Blaze

Oooohh my god Blaze. When I was first thinking about adding her to the roster, I liked her a decent amount but didn't think about her too much. I did know that I wasn't going to change much about her design since it was already pretty much perfect, I just added more gold to her and made her ponytail more like a flame than her canon design, which looked more like feathers of some sort to me. I then just updated her tail to match the style.

What really changed was when I completely rewrote her story. I always thought it was so weird that they made her so special and weird, being a fire-bending princess from another dimension, but they barely went into fine detail about her, like, AT ALL. It doesn't seem like there's anything special about the Sol Dimension, aside from the Sol Emeralds, and her actual role as a princess is never really touched on at all besides her living in a castle as depicted in the comics, AND worst of all she's just sort of… born with fire bending powers? That's crazy even for Sonic characters. I mean I'll accept it but still, I feel like there should be something there. And it's also crazy that all of this was introduced in Sonic Rush, which, let's be real, has the most non-story there could be in a Sonic game. Nothing interesting and unique really happens in it. At least Rush Adventure did something new, but still. She deserves better

So anyway I changed practically every detail and am mentally organizing the full story, but the gist of it is essentially that 06 is now her debut game, and everything regarding Soleanna now involves her instead of Elise and all takes place in the Sol Dimension. You'd think it would be a little on the nose to make Soleanna a location in the Sol Dimension, but they didn't even bother to make that a thing. Same goes for Solaris. It feels so obvious, like it was meant to be that way in a beta form. On top of that, though, since she replaces Elise you can probably guess that she actually derives her fire bending power from Iblis, which is actually a power passed down in her family ever since Iblis and Mephiles were sealed. And, since she's clearly in more of a position of power than Elise, she can actually be the third in the 06 main character group instead of Shadow, since he gets enough attention elsewhere. 

As the story goes on and she realizes she has a flaming hellbeast inside of her, her sheer confidence gets broken and then regained thanks to Sonic supporting her. Maybe also includes a relationship with Amy because I can't help myself. Apart from that, there are so many details and story beats I'd love to share but really that would be a whole document all on its own. I'm surprisingly close to being able to write basically a whole movie script's worth on this thing.

But yeah every single detail I added to her story has now retroactively made her one of my all-time favorite Sonic characters, tied with Cream and Chaos. I basically freak out whenever she does literally anything, I'm kind of obsessed.

Also since the role of princess suggests there's a queen (unless you live in Equestria), here's the Queen of Soleanna

Silver

Now of course, ANOTHER peak redesign. I really think Silver specifically is the biggest upgrade out of everyone. I really needed him to look more weird and futuristic, making his whole body actually silvery instead of just kind of white, and making his clothes black to make his glowy tech bits more stark. I even turned his quills into flowing hair, just because. I like to think he's one of those characters that's unimaginably handsome without any effort, even though he doesn't realize it. 

Story-wise he doesn't change much, except of course since Blaze is doing her own thing, he's completely alone fighting to protect his future, which personally really helps show his character. He's the type to fight to his dying breath even if he knows he can't win, just so he can protect as many people as he can. I also think he's still the type who would take a can out from the bottom of those can pyramids in a cartoon supermarket, only to freak out when the whole pyramid topples down. He's a devoted warrior who, in low-stakes scenarios, is still kind of a lovable loser.

Except he wasn't always alone. He's the last remaining member of the Crested Knights (or whatever I want to call them), a genetically engineered and cybernetically enhanced army of people made to quell Mephiles and Iblis as much as possible in the future. The second-to-last, his mentor Steel the Wolf, fell in battle with him, so he vows to keep fighting for him. Personally I think Silver having a deep personal attachment to someone in this way really makes him feel more loving and empathetic, which makes his goofy sides much more charming. I imagine him sharing stories of their past together over a campfire while Sonic and Blaze listen intently.

Also just because Blaze gets her own special super form because of the Sol Emeralds, I thought since the Chaos Emeralds are said to grant wishes, each individual who gets their power has a different "super" form. If we get Super Sonic and Burning Blaze, then we can also get Psychic Silver (it's still alliteration) where his psychokinetic abilities go haywire and his senses basically become perfect. 

Forces

The one thing I realized I didn't like about the IDW comics is that Amy was barking out commands like she was some seasoned war hero (which she kind of was) in her cutesy old Adventure dress, so that made me think that I should give her and everyone else their own special outfits for the Forces section of the story. Also, since the story of Forces is practically the same as SatAM aside from Sonic being involved, I made the Freedom Fighters become a part of this story, which are their own little task force. That also includes Nicole, who now actually looks like a holographic projection instead of just some random Mobian, although I might eventually design a more corporeal form for her. And, since Forces is one of those games where you realize they just didn't want to include humans for some reason, I decided to give Topaz from Sonic X a spot alongside Rouge in the Resistance. She'd still start off as a cop that Rouge enjoys ""messing"" with, but then once Eggman starts taking over she joins the forces against him. And since the IDW comics are practically a part of Forces' story, Lanolin can also be here, who I made chubbier since sheep always have a chubby aura. Tangle is there too but she's completely unchanged since she's already perfect. Same would go for Whisper but I haven't drawn her yet. And really the same goes for pretty much every other IDW character, since their designs are some of the best in the series imo.

The Ancients

I really thought the Ancients needed to look more alien and weird, and I wanted to give them clothes to mimic that of their tech. I also thought that the Koco could instead be their true brains/bodies, and the gel is another part of their tech. 

The main thing of their story is that I want them to be the origin of all Mobians and Chao. When they fled from The End to Mobius, after the big fight The End broke their bodies and brains, destroying the rocky shell around their true bodies, and making them back to being nearly animalistic. However, over time their malleable bodies evolved over time, some turning into the more capable and intelligent Mobians, while those that ended up in more protected areas didn't change quite as much and became the Chao, still being pretty soft and helpless. However, I also thought that the branch of them that fled to Mobius surely couldn't have been the ENTIRE species, so the other branches that fled away from The End ended up evolving into the species of the Black Arms and the Wisps. The Black Arms being a people who use more meaty, grotesque technology, and with the Wisps tending to use more abstract, colorful technology, assuming they use any at all, since they decided to live more naturalistically, even with their core bodies living outside of any other tech. This essentially makes Shadow the Hedgehog (the game) and Colors parallel stories, where they deal with the offshoots of the Ancients. If you couldn't tell, I also made them have traits of the Dark and Hero Chaos Chao, with Black Doom having the flame orbs above his head, and Mother Wisp having the halos and the head protrusions of the Hero Chaos Chao. They each also have cores similar to the Koco, with Doom's Eye essentially being his core, and the Wisps themselves each being a core, but with the Mother Wisp having a bigger body her core goes into. 

Those are all the major designs, but of course that isn't even it. For example, Some other characters that exist in my redesign are Sonia and Manic (fans of Sonic who hype him up in battle with music), Bokkun (mostly unchanged), Metal Sonic (just looks cooler), Sage (who I redesigned but honestly might not keep), Cosmo and the Metarex (both made a bit more alien), the Zeti (the Deadly Six and others of the species), and a whole redesign of Secret Rings and Black Knight which features even more stories like Peter Pan and Journey to the West. I could basically go on and on about it all but I have to stop somewhere lol

Thanks for indulging me

[wihellib]

Do you have any tips for events similar to the ones being run right now?

I got the game only a few days ago so I’ll be missing out on Zagan’s new card (which sucks cause he’s pretty much my favourite now) hoping to be better prepared in the future for any reruns and the next events.

The event for Zagan that’s happening right now (and about to end) is called a Nightmare Pass (NP).

A big disclaimer about the NP, even if you complete all requirements (216/216), you do not get Zagan yet. Before you can get Zagan, you also have to buy the Advanced Pass and Superior Pass with real life money. And it’s not cheap.

This is the EroLabs version of the game (it’s uncensored compared to the AppStore and Google Store). Basically, it would cost me around $80 in my country’s currency if I wanted to own Zagan (Model). It might be a different amount for your currency.

If that’s in your budget, then read on. If not, then there will be another way you can probably get Zagan at the very end of this post.

To complete the NP, you need to progress through stages over 20 days. Each stage has different requirements you need to fulfill, and you can only do one stage a day since one of the requirements is ‘daily login’.

The only time ‘login’ isn’t a requirement is on the very first day, since they assume you’ve already logged in before the update was released. However, they do require ‘complete daily quests’ on the first day and if you’ve already completed those, then you will have to wait until the next day to complete stage 1. So, my first recommendation is to not complete your daily quests on the day you know the NP is coming out until the NP is live.

You’ll need a lot of AP to complete battles for stage requirements. If you need need more AP, you can buy 100 AP for 10 gems three times in the shop. You can also get another 100 AP for 10 gems if you click the AP bar itself. I wouldn’t recommend spending more than 10 gems for 100 AP, it’s not worth it. If you need more help with AP, then make sure you’re only completing battles that cost 15 AP, the lowest a battle can be.

There will be some ‘raise likability’ requirements. I like to keep one character with one of the likability rewards unclaimed at all times, to fulfill this NP requirement immediately every time.

To meet the ‘draw’ requirement, you can use your free daily greater (yellow) key pull. If it says ‘special draw’ then you need to do a lesser (red) key pull.

If you’re still having trouble completing all 216 requirements, then you can skip them using Nightmare Coins, which you get by completing battles. But you would need a lot of them to skip the whole NP in one go, which is not feasible. So, Nightmare Coins are an emergency option for me personally.

If you do purchase the NP character, then Nightmare Coins can also be used to get extra copies of the character to evolve them, which gives you more content for that character. So, I like to try to save Nightmare Coins if possible.

Now, if you really love the NP character but don’t want to spend real money, then there’s one other way you can get that character (most likely).

For the first anniversary this past October, they released a special banner that featured every character they had released so far, including paywalled and in-person only convention bonuses.

They will most likely do this again for second anniversary, so that could be your chance to get Zagan.

After 100 pulls on the special banner, you are guaranteed to get the character you picked. You could also get them early and then pick a different character, without messing up pity. You could also get other characters (again including NP characters) during your 100 pulls, but those are based on luck.

It costs 5000 Solomon’s Seals to get 100 pulls, which is steep, but doable if you’re very dedicated to saving (make sure to complete at least three level 10 battles at the Realm of the Seraphim everyday to get more Solomon’s Seals, also always complete all your Weekly Quests).

Reruns of NPs are extremely uncommon, it’s only happened once before, so I wouldn’t count on this option.

So, that’s about it. It’s really not that hard to complete the NP if you login every day. The NP requirements have a lot of overlap with your Daily Quests anyways. And even then they give you several extra days past the 20, so it’s fine if you miss a couple days. The main problem is the high real life cost at the end. But that’s up to everyone individually to figure out if it’s worth the price for them.