#Really wanted to gif these Theatrical Storm Moments side by side

[saltpepperbeard]

“Our Blackbeard is a legend, a lover, a fighter, a tactical genius, a poetic soul, and quite possibly insane.”

[buttercupsandboys]

Sunshine & Rainbows — an Alfie Solomons x original character story — Chapter 4

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 4: be a good girl

Word count: 3603

TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, a little bit of smut ;)

Alfie and Sabini have words, and things heat up with Livy.

At some fucking point, Alfie really needs to sit down and process everything that’s happened today.

But now is not that time.

As he makes his way down the stairs (again), his focus is on the fucking wop. Looks like they need to have a little conversation, yeah? Because apparently, Sabini has the fucking balls to bring men into fucking Camden Town, knock on his fucking door, and make fucking demands.  

He snorts in disbelief, his blood boiling with every step as he approaches the door.

Alfie isn’t known for his patience at the best of times, but fuck, he’s being tested today. First, he had to deal with the pikey, which was painful enough, but then he was interrupted with his dick practically in Livy’s mouth.

His weeping cock is a constant reminder of the poor timing, and it does not bode well for the Italian.  

Alfie flings open the door with a loud bang as he steps into the street, squinting at the sunshine. He marches over to Sabini and stops just inches from his face. Ollie and Ishmael, his most trusted men, take their place on either side of him.

The Italian has also brought two men with him, and for a moment, all six of them stare in stony silence. The only sound is the factory noise in the distance.

“Fuck you wops like those tiny moustaches, don’t ya?” Alfie suddenly announces.  

“Alfie…” Sabini replies in greeting, opening his arms just slightly in a mock gesture of peace.  

Alfie ignores him, stroking his beard as if deep in thought. “Like little fucking caterpillars, ain’t they? I wonder, yeah … Do you ever worry that you’ll wake up one morning, and—poof !”

He raises a hand and aggressively flings his fingers at the other man’s face. “You’ll have a butterfly on your lip, mate. What’ll the missus think of that, eh?”

“A butterfly, Alfie?”

“Yeah, a butterfly, mate.” He raises a thick finger and prods at the Italian’s upper lip. “Right fucking there.”

Sabini turns to address the man standing next to him. “You hear that? He has a bird that belongs to me in a fucking cage, and he wants to talk about butterflies.”

“I’m sorry, what are you saying?” Alfie tilts his head and leans closer, waving his hand expectantly.

“I’m saying the woman was seen coming into Camden Town this morning, Alfie. And she and I, we have unfinished business. So you’re going to need to give her back.”

“Do I look like the type who takes in little lost birds, mate?” Alfie gestures theatrically towards his bakery. “What’s this, eh? Should I put up a sign? A fucking home for lost women?”

“Alfie…” warns Sabini.

“No, fuck off mate.” He waves his hand in dismissal. “There’s no fucking women here. But what I want to know, yeah…” Alfie lowers his voice dangerously. “What I want to know is where you get off coming into MY fucking town, making FUCKING DEMANDS?”

Alfie is roaring with anger now; his face is red and there’s spit flying from his lips.

The Italians exchange looks before Sabini puts up his hands in surrender. “Alfie, we only wanted to talk, a little chat between old friends. It’s just a woman, yeah? Not worth starting a war.”

Alfie’s been in the game long enough to recognise the threat in his words. He knows he might have the upper hand during this meeting, while the wops are in his territory, but the Italians have been gaining power. Right now, the best he can do is buy some time and keep Livy safe until the deal with the Blinders starts to pay off.

But he keeps those thoughts to himself as he taps his cane firmly against Sabini’s chest and looks him straight in the eye. “Fuck off then. And if I see you back in Camden Town, I’ll put a bullet in your fucking brain.”

— • — • —

“Well, fuck me love”, Alfie barks as he storms into the office, letting the door slam behind him. “Those fucking wops—“

He comes to a sudden stop at the sight of her. She’s curled in a tight ball on the sofa, her arms wrapped around her knees like she’s trying to make herself as small as humanly possible. It looks fucking uncomfortable, but she’s sleeping peacefully. Her features are soft, her thick lashes heavy against her cheeks, and she looks innocent, like the girl in the photo by his bed.

But this little dove is most definitely a woman, and she’s something else, ain’t she? Throwing knives and mocking gangsters, and doing it all with a fucking smile on her face. But she’s fragile too, behind the laughter and the lipstick. Alfie’s sure of it; he saw it earlier today in the well-practised way she hides her emotions. She’s brave and bold, and definitely a touch mad, but there’s more to her and he wants to know everything.

It shocks him a bit, his interest in her. Yes, he’d known that if she showed up, he’d look after her as promised. And of course, she’s fucking beautiful. But he’s always kept his distance from women because women are trouble, and his life is complicated enough as it is.

He scoffs under his breath as he bends down to brush a stay hair off her forehead. God must be having a fucking laugh, yeah?  Because this particular woman has been in his life for no more than half a day, and she’s already brought more fucking trouble than anyone he’s ever met.

He straightens up with a groan, his hip crying out in protest, and looks over at the paperwork sprawled across his desk. Might as well get some fucking work done today. He shuffles quietly across the room and settles in his chair, before lifting his half-moon glasses from the chain around his neck, carefully placing them on the bridge of his nose.

If he can just get through the next few hours without any more surprise visitors.

— • — • —

Knock, knock.  

Alfie’s head snaps up when he hears the sound at the door. “Enter,” he commands, trying to keep his voice low because Livy is still sleeping on the sofa nearby.

He pulls his watch from his pocket and checks the time; it’s nearly eight o’clock. She’s been sleeping for over six hours, which seems a bit excessive—but given the day she’s had, he decides not to worry.

“Sir, I just wanted to check—“ starts Ollie as he walks through the door with his face buried in a clipboard.

“Shhhhhh!” Alfie hisses under his breath.

Ollie looks up in surprise, and Alfie responds with a curt nod in Livy’s direction. His eyes widen in understanding, but it’s too late. Livy rolls her shoulders, before stretching her arms above her head and slowly opening her eyes.

Alfie shoots Ollie a violent look before turning his attention back to Livy. “You right there, treacle? That was quite a nap love,” he sings out sweetly. (Ollie rolls his eyes, hiding his face with the clipboard.)

Livy gently rocks her head from side to side before replying. “Oh yes darling, it was perfect, thank you. I’m sorry that I abandoned you though—it’s just that I often nap in the afternoon. So many years spent working late, you see? It’s thrown off my clock.”

She smooths down her skirt as she stands, before crossing the room to sit in front of the desk. “I hope everything went well with Mr … um, the Italian fellow?”

“Sabini,” Alfie growls, almost spitting at the name. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry pet. I just need you to clarify something for me, love. What was the name of your club?”

“Oh—did I forget to mention it? It’s the Eden Club, darling. Have you been?”

Of course. Of course, she worked at the fucking Eden Club. She killed a man in Sabini’s fucking club. He’d suspected it but somehow, hearing the words direct from her beautiful mouth just made the threat all the more real.

“Nah love, I’m a busy man. Not much time for clubs and such. But listen pet, I’m going to need you to stay close for a bit, yeah? Just until things calm down. You can stay with me for now.”

Alfie turns back to Ollie and commands, “Put extra men on the house and spread the word. If a wop sets foot this side of Farringdon Road, I want to know about it. You hear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Have Ishmael bring the car round and then fuck off.”

Alfie stands and removes his apron, before walking around the desk and offering his hand to Livy. She accepts the assistance as he pulls her from the chair, but then she doesn’t let go. Instead, she threads her tiny fingers between his and starts gently caressing the crown tattoo on the back of his hand with her thumb.

“Thank you, Alfie.”

Now that it’s late and just the two of them, her voice sounds softer, almost childlike—and part of him can’t help but wonder how much of her boisterous personality is simply a byproduct of years on a stage; like a mask that she’s worn for so long that sometimes, she forgets it’s even there.

“There’s no need to thank me, love. You understand? No fucking need.”

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly letting go to put on his coat. He looks over at her expectantly and she simply stares back, a confused look on her face, until it dawns on him.

“You don’t have a coat.” He states dryly.

“Oh right,” she looks down as if to confirm his observation, before returning her eyes to his. “It was warmer this morning, and then I didn’t exactly get a chance to pack …”

Alfie curses under his breath as he removes his coat and wraps it around her tiny body. She opens her mouth to protest and, without thinking, he interrupts her with a soft kiss. It’s chaste and innocent—especially considering what transpired between them earlier today—but it sends sparks through his body, his skin tingling like a live wire.

“Shush now and be a good girl for me, eh? Just for a bit, ok?” He cajoles, his gruff voice just above a whisper.

She holds his gaze and looks ready to argue, but after a moment she changes her mind, submitting with a small smile. “Alright, Alfie,” she breathes softly, before reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers once again.

— • — • —

Something about her changes as soon as they step foot into the alley behind the bakery.

It’s a subtle shift, but Alfie’s always had an eye for detail. He pays attention and sees things that other people don’t. It’s a skill that kept him alive as a lad growing up on the streets, as a soldier fighting in the trenches, and now as the king of Camden Town.

The tall buildings on either side of the narrow alley block out most traces of light, making it hard to see on this already cold, dark night. But it doesn’t matter because he can sense it—the way she hesitates and withdraws into herself.

He squeezes her hand reassuringly. “It’s ok love, it’s just Ishmael.” He gestures in the direction of the strapping Jewish lad waiting patiently by the large black automobile.

“I know he’s a right scary looking fucker, with that ugly mug of his. But that’s why I keep him around, yeah? Keeps the riff-raff away.” He pauses, half expecting a laugh, but her only response is a small nod, barely noticeable as she burrows into his side.

Hmm. He gently reaches for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. “You don’t have to worry about the wops, Livy. You hear me? You’re safe here,” he reassures her in a firm tone.

“What?” She starts, sounding confused. “Oh, right, the wops. Good, good,” she mutters, patting his hand absently.

Alfie frowns. If she’s not worried about the Italians, what the hell has her so worked up?

He shakes his head and leads her towards the car, opening the door and helping her inside. It’s late and the cold air is no good for his hip, which has been flaring up all afternoon—probably from all the fucking trips back and forth across the floor today. Like a fucking station, innit, with people coming and going as they fucking well please, no respect for a man’s place of work.  

Alfie continues to grumble as he settles in his seat, but then Livy snuggles against him, so close he can feel her thick hair tickling his nose. In the small enclosed space, he’s flooded with the smell of her— cherries, vanilla, and sunshine —and he feels himself relax. He wraps his arm tightly around her waist before leaning his head against the back of his seat.

He must have dozed off because when he opens his eyes, he can see the white bricks of his townhouse outside the window.

Ishmael stops the car and comes round to open the door. They exit and Alfie gives the younger man a small nod of dismissal, before the two quickly make their way up the stairs and into his stately home.

He switches on the light and, as the soft glow floods the entryway, he notices a look of relief in Livy’s golden eyes. But before he can comment, they’re interrupted by the thundering sound of a large beast barreling down the stairs.

“Cyril, you mutt!” Alfie calls out gruffly as he bends down to greet his hulking canine companion. “Calm yourself, mate. We’ve got ourselves a visitor.”

Cyril wags his tail furiously, straining against his collar in a desperate attempt to reach Livy. But Alfie keeps a firm hold on the pup, as he waits for her reaction.

He’s not disappointed. She flashes a brilliant smile as she drops to her knees, cooing loudly. “Aren’t you a handsome boy! Oh yes, yes you are! And you know it too, don’t you? Just like your daddy.”

Alfie is grateful that she’s distracted, busy giving Cyril vigorous little rubs along the edge of his jaw  because he blushes — fucking blushes — at the compliment.

Fuck it’s late and he needs to go to bed before he embarrasses himself. He briefly considers asking her to join him before dismissing the idea. As much as it pains him, he wants to be a fucking gentleman, yeah?

Who knows how long it will take to sort out this shite with Sabini—and if she’s going to be stuck living with him, he wants her to be comfortable.

Plus, he can’t get the small, scared look she wore earlier out of his mind. Yes, she’s grinning like a madwoman now, spoiling his fucking dog to no end, but there’s something else going on. And he wants to figure it out before he drags her into his bed like a right fucking bastard.

“Alright, love. I’ll give you a quick tour, eh?”

They make brief stops in the kitchen and front parlour, with Cyril following doggedly behind. Livy nods politely, only interrupting when they get to his office.

“Alfie?” She asks, admiring the tall shelves brimming with books of every description. “Would you mind if I borrowed a book? Sometimes I struggle to sleep at night.”

Well, he would too if napped for six fucking hours. But he only nods in reply, “Sure love, help yourself.”

After making a selection, they head upstairs and he shows her to the large guest room at the back of the house. It’s a cozy space, adorned with heavy green curtains to keep out the cold. Alfie crosses the room to start a fire, while Livy admires the beautiful blanket covering the very large bed. It’s deep blue and embroidered with golden flowers, just like her eyes.

Alfie finishes, dusting his hands on his thighs before walking to the door and pointing to the room across the hall. “I’m just there if you need me, love. And the bathroom, yeah, it’s right down the hall.”

He looks back at her and they both stare awkwardly for a moment before she breaks the silence.

“Thank you, darling. This is just lovely. Can I just ask one small favour?”

“Of course, pet. What do you need?”

“Something to sleep in …” she trails off and gestures towards her small frame.

She’s still wearing his coat and, of course, she doesn’t have any fucking night clothes. He swallows thickly. He knows he’ll have to offer her something, but the thought of her soft skin wearing nothing but his fucking shirt goes straight to his cock.

“Right, right”, he mumbles nonsensically as he turns and walks away, leaving her standing there with a small smirk on her face.

He returns in a minute, holding one of his large cotton shirts. He tries to avoid eye contact as he hands it over, but the little minx grabs his arm and demands attention.

She bites her lip invitingly as she looks up from beneath her thick lashes. “Alfie …” she starts, but he quickly interrupts her.

“Well, sleep well love—“

She cuts him off with a kiss and he struggles to hold back a choked moan. Her warm fucking mouth is so inviting, and when she gently traces his lower lip with her tongue, he has to tear himself away.

“Livy …” He pants softly as he tries to pull himself together. He takes a small step back before continuing, “It’s been a long day, pet. You understand, yeah?”

He’s worried that he might have offended her, but her eyes are glowing with mischief as she gently pushes him into the hall.

“Good night, Alfie.” She whispers before giving him a wink and shutting the door in his face.

— • — • —

If there’s one thing he knows for sure, it’s that he’s a fucking idiot.

Alfie rolls over with a groan and tries to untangle himself from his sweat-soaked sheets. He turns on the light and checks the time—four in the fucking morning.

He grunts in frustration as he leans back against the pillows, dragging a hand down his face. The fucking temptress in the room across the hall has kept him up all night, haunting his fucking dreams. Every time he closes his eyes, he’s back in the office, sitting in his chair with that witch sprawled between his thighs.

Only this time, no one barges through the fucking door. Instead, she looks up at him with those big, innocent eyes as she wraps her hot wet mouth around his aching cock, swirling her tongue around the head in slow, steady strokes.

He groans at the memory and slips his hand under his boxers, finding his fully erect cock and giving it a few firm tugs.

In his dream, she continues to taunt him, dipping her head forward and slowly working her way down his length, inch by fucking inch. His hips start to buck against her mouth because fuck, she’s like a hot little clamp on his cock. Then she slips one hand lower, gently caressing his balls, and he can feel himself getting close to the edge—

And then he fucking wakes up.

Every single time.

It’s fucking torture—and the worst part? There’s a woman across the hall (quite literally the woman of his fucking dreams) and he’s pretty damn sure that she’d be happy to take care of him.

But he turned her away like a dumb cunt because of some fucking ridiculous notion, and now he can’t go banging on her door in the middle of the night, can he? He still has some pride, although he must admit it’s growing more tattered by the minute.

He curses to himself as he gets out of bed and pulls on his pants; maybe a cold fucking drink will help.

But as he steps quietly into the hall, he notices a light is still shining under Livy’s door.

His brain tells him to just keep walking, but at this hour, most men aren’t thinking with their brains. And Alfie Solomons is no exception. He crosses the hall and gently knocks on her door.

No answer.  

He knocks again, a bit louder this time. When she still doesn’t respond, he feels his muscles twitch. His senses are on high alert as he quietly opens the door, sending off a quick prayer that she hasn’t been taken by Sabini.

He scans the room and is relieved to see her sleeping form huddled on the bed, but he doesn’t relax until he moves closer and confirms she’s still breathing.

For the second time today, he’s watching her sleep—and now that he knows she’s safe, he feels like a creepy bastard. But he just can’t look away.

Yet again, she’s curled in a tiny ball, despite having a giant fucking bed all to herself. But he can’t complain because his shirt has ridden up just enough to reveal the glorious curve of her arse, along with a generous glimpse of her creamy thighs.

She’s absolutely breathtaking, and at that moment, he knows with complete certainty that he is utterly and totally undeserving of her.

He pulls the blanket over her tiny body before reaching to turn out the light. But what he sees on the bedside table stops him in his tracks; a small thigh holster with three blades securely tucked away.

Of course.

Alfie’s heart is full as he turns off the light and makes his way back to bed, where he finally drifts off into a peaceful sleep …

Only to be woken shortly by a blood-curdling scream.

A/N: The conversation with Sabini was definitely inspired by season 2 episode 4. I think I captured the “spirit” of the two men, but let me know if you disagree! Also, I know this story packs a lot in – I’m not really a slow burn storyteller but hopefully, it’s not too rushed for you.

[lebenspurpur]

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

AN: Listen to padmasana by Buckethead if you want. It kind of inspired this. The Mate Feed Kill Repeat version of Gently by slipknot works too. Or Universal Truth by Opeth. Man I don't know, listen to whatever you want.

I also heavily apologize. I won't be able to really look for mistakes here, prepare for major spelling errors.

Summary: Eric feels solitude, the reader enjoys it with him.

Warnings: none :)

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The air is fresh. The kind of fresh that builds up during a storm, or even just a longer period of heavy rain. It's heavy, moist, and cold and it makes us humans yearn for hot chocolate, a blanket, perhaps snn the warm comfort of another body pressed against ours.

The rain stopped a whole while ago and now the only evidence left is the moist asphalt. It seems to shine as the last remaining arms of the sun reach out to touch the old city.

Eric climbed up on the roof long before the rain stopped. Every time he does something like this, you consider stopping him. Your brain screams at you, useless warnings about various sicknesses, various diseases he could catch and it always takes a while for you to remember that he'll never be able to get sick again.

You press your eyes together as a cold wave of wet air hits you right in the face the moment you open the creaking trapdoor. Ignoring the uncomfortable greeting, you open it wholly and climb out, tensing up as the coldness creeps into your skin.

It's quiet. The rain shooed away all the people and left the city with a slow, tranquil ambience. You take a deep breath and cough a little as your throat tightens at the sudden and harsh change of temperature.

Wrapping your arms around you, you walk forward, towards the comforting presence of your lover sitting at the edge of the building.

He's humming and the wind transports the soft sounds over to you, making you smile tenderly.

You greet him by burying your fingers in his wet hair. The dark locks are heavy and dark with rain and you find yourself missing the usual warmth his hair holds.

Nonetheless, Eric groans softly at the contact. His fingers travel up to his head and grab your hand, pulling it out of his hair. His lips ghost over your fingertips, too faint to really be satisfying but intense enough to make your cheeks redden. Eric hums against your warm skin and then pulls softly, indicating you to sit down next to him.

You hesitate. The wood is soaked in rain, and dirty from whatever mud has gathered up here over the past years.

Eric tugs again, more pleading this time and you sigh theatrically, sinking down next to him. The second your legs hit the cold surface and drench your shorts, you cringe slightly.

The man next to you laughs at your uncomfortable expression and pulls you closer to his side.

"Hey!", you hit his shoulder playfully, "Not everyone's blessed with an immortal body, Mr. 'I-never-get-cold.' "

"Well, I'm sure not everyone wants to fall to their painful death to get such an immortal body either." Eric smiles but his words sound bitter, and... sad.

"Sorry..", you mumble. You're sure he's not mad at you but whenever he brings up his past, you can't help but feel guilty.

"Ah no, hush, love. It's alright. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty."

As if to make up for his harsh words, his hand moves to slowly cup your face. His pearly skin is wet and cold but you melt into the contact anyway. He's always so tender when he touches you, so soft, so careful.

"What're you even doing out here?", you murmur, voice muffled against his palm.

"Thinking.", he replies, letting his hand sink down into his lap again. His gaze travels from your face to the city again, worry and solitude visible in his dark eyes. A deep sigh escapes his lips, heavy and filled with emotion he can't quite express verbally.

You pout at the loss of his touch. Eric just chuckles at that and wordlessly grabs your hand, encasing your fingers in his much longer ones.

"Thinking about what?", you pick up the subject again. Your eyes follow the pair of both of your dangling feet over the edge. It would scare you but you've been up here too many times by now. And obviously if you fell, you're sure your rather heroic lover would quickly come and save you. You have to surpress a giggle at that thought.

Eric sighs again instead of answering and you feel him softly press your hand. Then, he lets go and stands up, holding out his hands to pull you up again.

"Let's go inside. M'sure you're cold."

Smiling, you take his hands and he pulls you right into him. You'd actually rather spend more time pressed against his broad chest but Eric doesn't seem to care as he pulls you after him, and down into the warm house again.

The warmth feels heavier than before, now that you've been in the cold. You can feel your cheeks redden at the change of temperature.

Eric walks a few steps into the house and then turns around, a thoughtful smile on his lips.

"How about a bath?"

"You want to spoil me today, huh?", you tease with a grin, but excitedly skip over to him anyway, "I'd love to, anyway."

Eric scoffs and then pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes stare deep into yours and you grin like a lovesick teenager as your breaths mingle in the air.

"You're so breathtaking," he whispers, eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration, "I could stare at you forever and i'd never get bored."

You smile sheepishly and try to hide your blushing expression in his neck but Eric is faster than you, tilting your chin up to face him.

"Uh-uh, don't hide your pretty face. I enjoy seeing it quite a lot, you know."

There's a glint of mischief in his eyes and you know he's trying to embarrass you on purpose.

Punching his chest playfully, you finally nuzzle your face into his neck as he let's go of your chin.

"You're such a fucking tease.", you growl into his skin and Eric just laughs, jokingly wincing as you punch him again.

A few strands of wet hair cling to his forehead and you tuck them away, smiling widely as Eric leans into the touch. His lips ghost over yours, eyes never leaving your own for even a second.

When he finally kisses you, it's soft, and tender, and everything you want it to be. It doesn't last long as Eric pulls away again, only leaning back far enough to whisper a hushed sentence.

"Wanna go take that bath now?"

"Yes sir.", you nod eagerly and he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he pushes the door to the bathroom open.

[cutegirlmayra]

I know you did a prompt a while ago about Amy having a fan and Sonic told him to basically get lost. So could you do something like that but make the guy feel more entitled to Amy and she owes him her love. And when she rejects him he gets really aggressive so it justifies Sonic being more aggressive in turn? I love how your depict protective Sonic soooo cute!

So, I have MANY jealous and protective Sonamy stories XD Shifting through them, I think you meant this one? (x) For future reference, if any of you lovely Anons want to maybe just... link?... the actual prompt I would be very much appreciative since I have over 900+ lol

(Preview prompt image provided by ArtsyAnnieRose (x) Please support the artist :)b)

As I mentioned when reviewing this Prompt on my youtube --> Pajama Blogs Ep. 1 Prompt Requests (x) Timecode: - 54:21 - I try and not do the same prompt twice, which means I like to rewrite things so that I don’t just keep making the same stories for different requests. So with this one, I’ve thought a lot about how to present it, and I think this will be fun! (Also, side note: I’m not making this cute and parody-like, I’ve changed my mind XD I have the right to do that! lol)

***TRIGGER WARNING***: (now you know it’s gonna get good.) I have subtly littered red flags throughout this story, if you have experienced stalking or manipulation strategies in your life please be aware they will be showing up in this fic. Due to the subtle nature of these traits, please be informed that I am in no way trying to downplay the danger of these situations, but showing that to the main character currently in these situations, her view of them is naïve and she sees no danger. Therefore, the gravity of the situation seems friendly and kind, but in no form am I saying these techniques are alright or acceptable. The ‘stranger’ character in this story is a creep, no matter how ‘charming’ or ‘sweet’ he may be portrayed in the innocent main character’s view. (If I write this correctly, hopefully, that message will be more clearer towards the end of the story.) I encourage any who recognize these toxic behaviors to please question your relationship with that individual and find safe, healthy relationships to pursue/keep instead. Whether your relationship with these kinds of people are platonic, friendship, or romantic in nature--please keep yourselves, families, friends, and other such loved ones safe. I will not be listing or detailing all occurrences of these moments within the story; however, with some psychology basics or google searching, you can find these common red flags or complexed manipulation strategies and how to better identify them.

Prompts are on shutdown! Do not send in any prompt requests at this time. Thank you!

Okay... let’s dive right in.

                                                 DIVE, DIVE, DIVE.

Note: This is another unconventional, more mature-themed story that I- well...

But my hope is that it’s still a story worth telling, so if you choose to, please enjoy.

Prompt:

Upon a rather dark and greying sky, as though the mentions of brief rainfall and storm weren’t apparent, many citizens in this bustling city were making their usual rounds around the mall. Carrying a thin jacket with an umbrella’s strap swinging at her side, Amy light-heartedly mused over a recent magazine’s article on the most eligible men, and read the chatty writer’s remarks on how Sonic The Hedgehog seemed to be away when the interviews for them were called.

She thought that so like Sonic, always away, but secretly just close enough to still keep tabs on what’s going on with the many locations in the world.

Eggman seemed to have a base everywhere, and while things had been pretty quiet as of late, she looked up from her magazine and once again wondered where in the wide, blue world he could be.

Was he bored? Off on another adventure? ... Napping? Eating? Was he eating enough?

She sighed with a dreamy look on her face, lost in her thoughts before a stranger flicked his wrist as he approached her, and a charging wind blasted in her direction. Blowing her back, it swiftly hit against her loosely closed umbrella, since Amy wanted to be prepared for any sudden downpour, and triggered it’s spring to further yank her back.

“Ah!” Amy tried to turn around to catch herself, the strap around her wrist forcing the sudden about-face as she grabbed her umbrella’s long steel pole to try and counter the pull.

“Woah!” the stranger that was passing her from the front suddenly stumbled at the sight and quickly rushed behind her, leaning over and grabbing where her hand was on the open umbrella as the wind suddenly stopped. His hand lingered by her side as though to brace with her and help, before noticing the wind stop and looking dumbfounded at the umbrella.

There was a silence as Amy felt the stranger was almost holding her, and turned to him with blinks, “Heh-heh... umm... Thank you.” her body was bent as she tried to use her heels against the pavement to counter-force the sudden rush of heavy wind, but with it’s immediate halt, she stepped forward and away from the strange, intimate moment to close her umbrella.

He stood more straighter, fixing himself up too before smiling kindly to her, “Does this happen to you often? Sudden, emmmm...” He swirled his palm-facing upwards hands around as he held the long, hummed note. “Bursts of photo-aesthetic air through your hair?”

Amy chuckled lightly, briefly looking back at him before continuing to fix her umbrella, worried it may be broken as the spring wasn’t going down well enough. Realizing it was probably jammed, she blew up some air to her bangs, figuring the worst, “Yeah, real convenient for a photoshoot. Maybe the photographer will settle for a water effect?” she gestured humorously up to the clouds, “All I need is a chair,” she teased, “Thanks again for the help. Really! You came out of nowhere!”

“Much like wind.” He joked back, putting his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to her. “You... wouldn’t mind if I take in the view of that shot, would you?”

“Huh?” she didn’t quite understand what he was making reference to.

He smiled as if realizing she didn’t get it and shook his head, “Nothing, nevermind. I’m clearly wasting your time,” he took out his own umbrella, looked at her a moment, then back to it. His long, brown and heavy jacket then flopped back to his side as he offered her it, “No offense, but I did just meet you. I would offer you my umbrella, but I’m worried I may never see it again. However, I have a solution,” He opened the umbrella and then gestured his hand to a restaurant near him. “So that we’re not strangers anymore, and I can trust you with something so dearly precious to me as an old, fifty cent umbrella I literally picked up from a second-hand store... might I entreat you to a meal?”

Amy smiled, relieved he was being so gentlemanly. “I wouldn’t mind at all!” she cheerily perked up, looking at her umbrella and tossing it in a garbage can. “I’m Amy,” She took his hand, curtseying. “Amy Rose.”

She did notice he was probably older than her, but he did a little bow and she realized she hadn’t notice his real height until his eyes matched her level. He held his eyes with her sights... and she wondered why he was pausing so long, “I know...” He finally whispered out, tilting his umbrella over her head, “You’re pretty famous, you know. Anyone would be lucky to help you out in a pinch. I’m Oscar, I work around here.”

Guiding her into the outdoor restaurant, he sat her at one of the white tables with it’s own umbrella on it and closed his, settling down on the opposite side of her. “Well, then! Do you mind this spot?”

“Oh, it’s my favorite, actually!” Amy chimed, knowing the location very well.

“Really?” He seemed a little less intrigued at that than Amy would have normally supposed someone would, but then after putting his umbrella away, leaned forward as though very attentive and putting his fingers together, his elbows on the wooden round table of white and letting his nose press down against his hands. He had gotten comfortable, and Amy, thinking this was his way of showing interest in what she meant, continued to sweetly respond.

“This is so funny, but I come here almost every Thursday and Friday for the new deals at my favorite store! I usually order the same thing too,... I really love ice cream.” Amy felt a strange new energy at meeting someone for the first time, and continued to feel refresh at this new-found friendship.

“Ice cream? No way! That’s my favorite too!” Oscar parted his fingers as though excited to hear this. “I have a sweet tooth. I know, I know, so silly of a man like me.”

“Oh, no! Not at all!” Amy waved her hands out, “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Well,...” He thought a moment, before smiling back to her and holding a wink, “I have an idea, you tell me yours first. I bet it’s probably very different.”

“I’m a simple girl, Vanilla is mostly my cup of tea. But... whenever I’m feeling adventurous, I go for it! Scoops of Vanilla and Chocolate with some random new flavor of mint or cookie flavored and then I top it with all sorts of stuff!”

He coughed as though shocked, “...That’s literally my favorite too!”

“What!?” Amy was excited to hear this, “I thought I was the only one that eccentric!”

“I know! That’s why I thought your answer would be completely different!” As Oscar continued to review Amy’s interests, he kept nodding along and reaffirming that they shared many similar interest and hobbies before the waiter appeared. “I love to chase certain thrills and excitements. I’m sure, being an adventurer, I figured that may be the reason why you place yourself in such perilous circumstances as well.”

“Your orders, lady? Sir?” The waiter asked, trying to kindly cut in as Oscar pulled out his wallet.

“Strawberry sunday with a hint of vanilla, you?” he looked back to her.

“Ha! That’s my Thursday order!” she giggled into her hand, “Same here, please!”

He shook his head, a little theatrically, “It’s almost like... where have you been all my life?”

“I mean, I know, right!? And you work around here! That’s so weird that I’ve never seen you before... where-”

“Ah, there’s really nothing interesting about me. I’m much more fascinated in the adventures you take. What with your friends always weighing you down and everything.” He basically ignored the waiter as he tried to ask any follow-up questions, and Amy just looked between the two and then smiled politely to the waiter, showing that that was all they were going to have.

“Weighing me down..? Oh no, without Sonic and the others, I couldn’t do anything as big as saving the world! We all need each other, you know?” She happily confirmed before he spoke again, sighing.

“I guess they would have you think that way, huh?” a offhanded comment that made Amy’s eyebrows furrow, but she just continued to speak about the wonderful traits and abilities of her friends, in which case, he kept shaking his head as though she was wrong.

“What?” She finally asked, “You don’t seem to like Sonic, Tails, or Knuckles...”

“I just think you could do with some different friends.” He shrugged, “Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.” In that moment, the waiter came back to place down their orders.

“U-undergrade..?” She looked down a moment, “N-no, no one’s holding me back or anything. I choose how I help out, I can’t always keep up with Sonic and the others so-” she stopped a second and shook her head, getting frustrated, “I-I mean, I can go with them whenever I want!” she retorted, and noticing her shift in demeanor, he took some ice cream and then held out his hand.

“Oh no, no, no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t keep up. I meant that you’re invaluable and they don’t treat you as such. But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’ll show you how a true heroine should be treated. This meal is on me.” he gestured to her ice cream, “After this, I’ll show you some places that you probably haven’t been to before.”

“O-oh... T-That does sounds exciting!”

For a few weeks after that, Amy began to hang out with Oscar frequently. They would text back and forth, and she couldn’t help but smile when he always called her beautiful and made her feel so special. However, although the places they first went to weren’t so bad... he started showing her back alleyways with clubs and other ‘themed’ places that made her slightly uneasy.

She knew he was older than her, but would decline any invitation if he stated, “But I know a guy, he’ll let you in.” and continued to protest and remind him of her age.

That being said, the parks were lovely though!

He would often bring her little gifts and flowers too, stating that the next time she came with him, he’d bring some home-made food and had a habit of patting her head or brushing something off her hair if it landed on her. Though, Amy never noticed the ‘leaf’ that had fallen on her shoulder, or the ‘bug’ that was buzzing around her headband.

He also would usually lead her when they walked and talked, if they came to a corner, he would lightly put his hand to her back, until one time she mentioned his hand went just slightly lower than normal and he apologized profusely.

All was going very well, he even carried her bags and offered to take them home with her, but she insisted she would take the train and that he needn’t worry.

Finally, on a Friday when she was heading down for her sale, texting Oscar, a familiar wind picked up and almost brought up her dress.

“Oh, look out!” Oscar appeared and grabbed her dress, pushing it down. “Phew! Close one, aye?”

“W-where did you come from?” Amy adjusted her dress as he held his hands to the rim of her dress still, but when she looked up at him, he immediately released them.

“I suppose I just naturally come when you need me.” he scratched the back of his head, looking away as though shy. “I don’t know... sometimes, I can’t sit still, I get this feeling like you need me, and lo and behold!” He gestured to her, “You really do need someone looking after you twenty-four seven, huh?” he squatted down to look up at her, then his face turned to concern. “It’s a shame you don’t have anyone to look after you... especially in moments like this.”

“W-what are you talking about? I have Sonic!” Amy placed her Miles-Electric away and gestured for him to stand upright, but instead, he took her hands and placed them on his cheeks, acting cute but a lot younger than he actually was.

“But he didn’t save you, I did~” he whined, squishing her hands to his cheeks and rotating them around as she thought him slightly weird and took them away, pushing him back as he stumbled. “H-hey!”

“Oh, you! Sonic is just the same way! He can’t sit still when he senses someone needs him... hey, that reminds me of my article...” Amy remembered the magazine she was subscribed too, and looked over to see that within his usual trench coat, was a page of that article sticking out. “Ah!” She pointed to it, amazed, “You read ‘Famous Quips’ too!?!”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he seemed to speak quickly, before shoving the magazine back in deeper. “Ehem, kinda a girlie magazine... promise not to tell anyone? I don’t wanna lose my street-cred!”

She laughed, “You are like Sonic! Always acting so cool...” she shook her head and took his arm, what she had started doing since he offered it so many times, and they walked down the street.

He bought anything her eye rested on, which made her beg him to at least let her pay for food, as he mentioned a concert happening at the club he kept trying to get her to go to.

“Come on, you’ll love this band! We adore the same music too! I know a perfect spot in the back where no one will see us and the bouncer is my friend!” his voice was enthusiastic, nudging her every now and then with his elbow as she looked away and rolled her eyes. “You’re not a babe anymore, Amy! You’re gonna end up going to clubs eventually, might as well be with someone you know, right?”

“I don’t know...” Amy looked down,... and he gently stopped walking to look away from her.

“...Do you not trust me?”

“W-what?” Amy let go of his arm, “What do you mean? Of course I do!” she was very hurt by his accusation, “I mean, we’ve hung out so much, I just don’t really think clubbing is my thing...”

“You never want to do what I suggest.” He looked down, “I go to your favorite store with you and help you bargain hunt, I take you around the park... I’m just saying, the one time I want to go and do something, you keep saying no.” he folded his arms, and Amy began to panic that he was really offended by her.

“T-that’s not true, Oscar! I...” she looked away a moment, and he looked back at her.

“...Ah, I can’t stay mad at you.” He pulled her into a hug, holding her there. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, hey, let’s go get ice cream and talk about it later, okay? I’ll pay again.”

Her eyes shifted about, not sure what that was all about. “N-no, I’ll pay.” she tried to move away but kept an arm around her and led her on.

“I wouldn’t be considered a man if I let the woman pay!” he insisted, and ended up paying for the meal.

As it got late, he offered to carry her bags home again, and whined in a goofy way when she kept saying it was too late to have guests over, but maybe sometime.

“If you won’t see the concert with me, at least take me to your place sometime. It’s the least you could do for me.” He gave her the bags, then stroked her hair again, “You really shouldn’t be taking the train at night, you never know what sicko might be on it. You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.” he laughed, but that stung Amy’s pride a bit.

She held her bags and looked away a moment, “...Is that... how I come off to people?”

“Oh sure!” he then continued to stroke her head, “...You ... didn’t notice?”

“...That I look weak?” Amy shook her head and he instinctively removed his hand.

He held it in the air a moment, before letting it rest on Amy’s head again, as though realizing she wasn’t doing that to make him stop.

“No... the part where I... gave you a new nickname.” He smiled, tenderly and squatted down to her level again, keeping his hand on her head. “Amy dear. I think it’s cute!”

“...O-oh, I mean, I don’t really like how it could appear though.” Amy had a bead of sweat form and he abruptly got up, looking upset.

“Don’t like how it could appear!? What does that mean!?” He snapped.

She flinched at his sudden uproar, as he grabbed a bag from her, “I’ve been wanting to introduce the nickname to you all day! And that’s how you think about it!?” he looked as though he was going to either smash or rip the bag, but just looked furiously away from her, “I thought about it a lot, you know! It was suppose to mean something!”

Amy grew slightly afraid, but not taking this sudden mood-swing again, she opened her mouth to say something.

He interjected and looked dead in her face, “You really don’t trust me, do you, Amy?”

Thinking she didn’t want to hurt him, she shook her head, “I-I never said that!”

“Don’t yell at me,” he looked downhearted suddenly, even though she wasn’t raising her voice that much, not like he was.

“I’m not-”

“You are, and it’s really making me feel like you’re just... you don’t consider me a friend. I told you people usually reject me,... I was vulnerable to you!”

“Oscar, calm down a moment and-”

“You’re the one who’s not ‘calming down’ you can’t do a single thing I want to do! You’re being... selfish!” he flopped the bag down in front of her, startling her as he took off stomps and a hissy-fit.

Not able to process that sudden shift in behavior, Amy was lost to her thoughts and... slowly... proceeded to get the bag and head to the train station.

Numerous texts came flooding in that week as she hadn’t gone back to the plaza and mall, and she kept wondering how he knew she wasn’t there. They had hung out multiple times, maybe he was just expecting another hang out without actually asking this time...

Still, she felt somewhat obliged to text back: Sorry, I’ll see you Friday. This Thursday, I just felt sick.

Oscar: Do you need anything? Send me your address, I’ll bring you medicine and make you some food! I really am sorry if I scared you, I shouldn’t have done that. You’re beautiful and I’m just insecure. You know how I can be, just like you, I get really attached to people and just want to be accepted. I’m really sorry, please don’t not see me again! I promise I’ll get myself under control, we’ll do whatever you want to do this time! Honest!

Amy didn’t text back...

Oscar: The concert is next Friday, I won’t mention it again but... it would be really awesome if we could see Pop Pinkies together... I know it’s my favorite band and our favorite music is what they play so... just think about it at least, alright?

That Friday, Amy was wearing something that made her almost blend in with the crowd. Unlike her usual bubbly skip in the streets, she was hiding beneath her umbrella and coat, as though not wanting to be spotted.

A sudden burst of wind and she panicked, darting behind a corner and putting her umbrella away. “Dumb wind.” she mumbled, looking around to make sure Oscar wasn’t there...

The wind suddenly shifted as she poked her head out, “That’s odd, wind doesn’t usually change direction unless...” she turned and gasped as she saw Sonic, leaning his head towards her and looking confused.

“...Since when did you start taking the back-alley ways? Don’t you know that’s dangerous, Amy?” He blinked, furrowing his brow as he straightened up and folded his arms, “Heh, long time no-”

Amy’s mind was suddenly triggered by something Oscar had said, and she tuned out Sonic completely, her world going dark...

“I just think you could do with some different friends. Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.”

“You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

“Is that... really how I appear to you?” Amy’s voice quaked as she spoke it, “Do I really look weak... even to you?”

Sonic was taken aback by the tears forming in her eyes, and immediately dropped the friendly banter, “Amy? What’s wrong? Weak?” he didn’t know where she got that notion from. “N-no, I-... Amy, is something wrong?” he moved forward to reach for her but pulled away, something Amy wasn’t used to as she really did--for a brief moment--think he was going to place his hand on her head.

Almost as if expecting that, she leaned her head in a strange way and then back, not sure why she did that.

He didn’t notice the action though, but she hugged herself, also remembering that after the light head pats was usually a strong and forceful embrace...

“...Amy?” she hadn’t responded to him, and now, Sonic was noticing a very clear change in Amy.

“N-no, of course you wouldn’t think that... I’m sorry, I really don’t... I don’t want to be around people right now.” she looked away, “I... I made someone feel really bad and I don’t know what to do.”

“Really? What did you do?” Sonic lifted his hand and she immediately looked at it, which made him pause. “...Umm... I was just gesturing... Amy...” His ears bent back, not sure why she looked so squarely at his hand. “Is everything okay?”

She really thought he was offering her hand, but she didn’t want to take it... not this time.

“I made a new friend, and he’s mad at me. I’m worried... if I hurt him again, he’ll really be in a bad emotional state, and it’ll be all my fault.” Amy put her umbrella up and started to walk away from Sonic, “I want to take a new route, I didn’t even want to come out today...”

“...Amy, you don’t control this new friend’s behavior, they do.” Sonic corrected her and walked beside her, focusing heavily on the signs of uncomfortability Amy was showing. “...What happened with this ‘new friend’ of yours?” He directly asked, and Amy relayed to him how she met him, then how he liked all the things she liked and agreed with everything in the beginning, how charming he was before the more time she spent with him, he seemed to change and start acting funny... but not in the good way.

“...He likes everything you like?” Sonic lowered his head a little, honing in on some things Amy briefly mentioned.

“Yeah, isn’t that crazy? He’s a guy but he totally loves sweet things and a popular girl’s magazine I enjoy.” Amy smiled, closing her eyes as though cheering up when thinking about it.

“...And he knew your order before you even made it?” Sonic folded his arms, putting two and two together.

“Yeah...” Amy suddenly slowed down in her steps, her eyes widening.

Sonic closed his eyes, matching her speed as he began to help her focus on the more important parts of her story, “And this... strange wind that passes by here... only comes at you and blows your dress up or opens your umbrella?”

She stopped.

He continued to walk, “And you say he works around here... which means he may have seen you come and go multiple times... and probably watched you ordered and heard what you liked, and saw what you read, and knew about you from the news and press... he disliked your friends and took you places and then entitled himself to being in charge over your Thursday and Friday venues... then, to really top it all off with the icing on the cake and all that jazz... he’s been insisting you go to a adult-themed club with him and throws a tissy-fit when you say no?”

Sonic stopped, his fists had already tightened into such hard balls of fury that he had to take silent deep breaths just to contain himself.

“And worst of all... he’s tried to copy me and put it in your mind that your friends don’t respect you the way we should... isolating you,” He put out a finger, “Grooming and manipulating you... Amy, you should have written this guy the moment he snapped at you... and probably sooner, but I’ll take that as you were just seeing the best sides of him... and not the dirty kind.” he didn’t turn around, but he felt Amy lingering behind him and knew if he said anymore, she may just start crying. “...Where do you think this creep is now?”

“He... He’s not a creep.” Amy lied, feeling in her heart that she just did lie, for Oscar’s sake...

Sonic tsk’ed and turned around, “How can you stand there and defend him!? Do you even know what Grooming is!?”

“...I... I don’t.” she wiped her eyes, “I don’t think I know anything...”

The manipulation had really set in on Amy, she was denying something she knew was true and didn’t know why. She was defending a man who clearly was up to no good, and yet... she cared about him still.

“Sonic... I think... I think I’m sick.” she held her stomach, the realization setting in. “You don’t think... he wanted me to take him to my house to..?”

“He wanted to what!?” Sonic lunged forward, holding his fists back and to his sides as he tried to remain level-headed, pulling away from her. “Amy, you know the truth now, it’s time to end this... ‘friendship’ you two have.”

Amy fell to her knees, “That’ll kill him!”

Sonic immediately looked behind him, Amy almost begging him not to make her do it as Sonic couldn’t stand to see her this broken and twisted up from Oscar’s scheming.

“Amy...” he wanted to say so many things..! But instead, just turned around and held a strong look, “You have to face this... but you won’t be alone.” He offered her his hand, “I won’t leave your side, and I’ll be there the whole way through. You deserve to go out and have fun without someone telling you that it can only be ‘their’ way of fun.” He looked so serious... but she felt a peace wash over her at how she knew his words were never lies or deceits for something devious. His words were for her and her well-being... not once did Sonic ever yell or enforce his way about things at all. He listened to her, even though she knew he must be raging inside at his friend’s predicament... it’s not like she purposefully got herself into this mess.

“You know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

She placed her hands up against her eyes, crying. “Am I... being a burden to my friends, Sonic?”

He immediately scooped her up into a bridal-style hold, “Which store did you want to visit today, Amy? Or do you want to just go home?”

“Please, I want to go home.” Amy held onto him as without a second word, he zoomed off.

The next few days, Sonic instructed that Amy block the number, but text messages seemed to not be the only thing Oscar knew... He called her home number, which surprised both of them, and the phone never stopped ringing.

That next Thursday, Sonic accompanied Amy everywhere she went, and they didn’t spot Oscar anywhere. But come that Friday...

Sonic was carrying some of Amy’s bags, she didn’t look fully recovered from anything, but at least she was wearing brighter colors in her coat she wore that day, and a nice sun hat as Sonic held the umbrella up for her.

He looked a little bored, but kept his eyes peeled when a sudden wind shoved him to the pavement.

“Ah! Sonic!” Amy turned around but was immediately grabbed around the waist, pulled back. “Gah!”

“I can’t believe you let him back into your life!!!”

Amy’s ears rang with Oscar’s voice, before shoving him back and falling down beside Sonic, who quickly shook off the wind blast and spun around to pick up Amy’s things, placing the bags by the store’s window.

“So, this is the wind-manipulator, eh?” Sonic rotated his shoulder out, having landed on it pretty roughly, “Look, I don’t know anything about you, and neither does Amy, really! So either get the hint and quit bothering Amy, or I’ll have to take matters into my own hands!” he hunkered down, getting ready for a fight, but... he also seemed not to be putting on airs or a show.

Sonic... although smiling a bit as he spoke to him, suddenly took a darker and more focused attention on how Oscar was holding himself.

Oscar looked to Amy, not even talking to Sonic, “I told you everything about me... What does that lying Sonic know about you!? I’m the one that’s been with you this whole time while he’s been off, probably with some other girl!”

Amy thought that ridiculous, and seeing him in a new light, she was able to at last come to fact with this pervert in front of her. “You... you were never my friend... were you, Oscar?”

He bit his teeth down, “Is that what he made you think?!”

“No, that’s what he made he realize!” She threw up her hammer and blasted wind at her.

She was forced to slide against the concrete, “I don’t mean to hurt you, Amy dear!” he cried out, “We’ll settle this when he isn’t around!”

“I think you’ve got it backwards, Oz!” Sonic, seeing that his hands controlled the wind, kicked it away from Amy’s direction and then spun in a rotation within the air to punch him down.

He stumbled, as though not used to physical fighting and tumbled all the way over into the street.

“I’ve known Amy much longer and deeper than you have! You’re just some creep who takes advantage of little girls!” Sonic’s fists was shaking, clearly, he didn’t want to just leave it at one blow. “Amy, get behind me!” He gestured out his hand and Amy immediately got up and moved behind him.

“I can... I think I can fight him!” She tried to state, but Sonic looked behind his shoulder and she put her head down. “I... I want to but...”

“...You still care about me, don’t you, Amy dear?”

“Quit calling me that!” Amy threw her arms down, “You used me! You weren’t my friend! I can’t believe I trusted you!”

Sonic turned to the man, “Why are you even answering him, Amy? He’s not talking to you, he’s talking to some Amy Dear girl he’s been building in his mind. You were never anything to him... it was the girl he was crafting that he was interested in.” Sonic slowly walked towards him as the man started to scoot back, clearly not able to fight Sonic The Hedgehog.

“Let’s play a new game...” Sonic suddenly lifted up a device, “Is your real name Warner Windstrom? You’ve got a bounty on your head that the cops are just dying to claim...” he pressed the button as suddenly an alarm went out, and from around the corners, police vehicles blocked his way of escape. “Oh, and that club? A typical place where your old ‘hostages’ claimed they were drugged. Trust me, pal, I’ll personally make sure you don’t get out of jail again.” Sonic let the police start moving in but Warner immediately shoved air beneath him and flew into the sky, shocking everyone as Sonic held up a arm over his eyes and moved back to Amy, shielding her as well.

She was in shock, that kind man she knew was suddenly a criminal and had previously hurt and abused other women... She didn’t know Sonic set this all up, but she probably wouldn’t have let him if she had known.

“I thought we were just gonna talk to him!” she cried out, putting her hand on his shoulder before shaking her head, “I’m defending him again... aren’t I?”

“Amy shouldn’t be with a loser like you, Sonic!” Warner cried out, “You can’t always save her! You can’t always be around to-!”

Before he could finish, a hammer slammed into his gut.

“Nice one, Amy.” Sonic complimented, as Amy stood up beside him.

She didn’t say anything, but judging from the neutral expression... and tears streaming down her eyes...

He just looked back at Warner, “I know this is a lot to take in... but trust me on this one... You’ll be alright.”

Amy summoned another hammer, “Want to give me a lift?”

“Certainly.” Sonic spun into a ball that lifted him up into the wind, then uncurled to reach out for Amy as she jumped, “Hit him hard!” he encouraged as he threw her up the rest of the length.

She pushed her dress down as he extended his arms to her, “Amy, please! You know me! I love-!”

She just growled and let out a piercing war-cry, slamming her hammer down on his face, “I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything, buzz off!!!!”

He slammed to the ground, and as the wind ceased, Sonic landed and caught her immediately, and the two watched as the police immediately took him.

He kept trying to call out to Amy but she didn’t say anything back, just ducking her head into Sonic’s shoulder.

Sonic’s eyes never left Warner’s face... but leaving the scattered bags around, he took her to the park near by and sat her down.

He waited there... as Amy was just frozen in her thoughts... unable to speak.

After some time, she got up and walked to stand beside him, “What about the bags?”

“Not concerned.” Sonic stated, then looked back to her, “You okay?”

“No,” Amy admitted, “You were right. It’s gonna take time... but I wish it would all just go away now.” she placed her hands on the side of her arms, “How... how did you know? When I was telling you about him... how did you know he was no good?”

Sonic tilted his head back and forth, then tapped his head. “When you’ve been around the block a few times... helping justice here and there... you learn a thing or two about red flags, Amy... you don’t have a lot of dating experience--or just knowing bad dudes are like that--in general! I don’t blame you... but I do think that you should be careful who your friends are.”

She scooted closer to him... then tilted her head to his shoulder.

“..Can you help me get better?”

“No,” he lightly tilted his head to hers, “But I can be with you while you figure it out.”

There was a long moment of silence as they held that comforting moment...

“Will I ever be me again?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“...No,” He responded, tenderly, as though a whisper as he looked up at the rain being to slowly drop all around them. “But I can be with you as you learn to accept her.”

Amy closed her eyes, feeling the small drops of rain before it all at once, speedily came down on them.

“...Will you still love me? At the end of it all?”

Silence...

“I already do.”

Rain scattered as Sonic held his eyes straight up into the clouds... the storm in his heart subsiding as Amy cried and her shoulder’s bounced beside him.

[clairecrive]

“Look at him!”- Bane x reader imagine

This is for the anon that asked: For a Bane request, what about the reader approaches him about getting a pet and reader ends up getting said pet whether he approves or not? Hope you like it!

Requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​ (let me know if you wanna be added)

How difficult could it be to convince someone to adopt a dog? I mean, who wouldn't want to have a bundle of joy in their life? You would have met with such resistance on the subject. You really underestimated the situation. One of the reasons you had found Bane so fascinating was the way he has always been able to broaden your horizon and let you see things and sides that you would never think existed. You had had such different lives and had so diverse experience that your union seemed almost doomed to an outsider. But you had always reacted warmly to his different point of view and opinions and much to anyone surprises, so did he. Well, up until this point anyway.

"Babe c'mon, you're saying no before even hearing me out." You had been nagging him about adopting a dog for a few days now but he had always quickly dismissed the subject with a shake of his head and an icy glare. Shame on him to think that you would be so easily deterred though.

"Look around you, do you think this is a place where a dog can live?" This was the first time he argued about it and so far, he was already loosing. You lived under the city. And Gotham was fucking huge, so.

"Absolutely. There's a lot of space where he or she could roam free and happy. Besides, you basically have beasts running around this place. I don't see how a beautiful puppy can cause you any problem."

"I don't have the time to take care of him and neither do you."

"Please, they're not so high-maintenance as you're making them out to be. They only need food and lots of love, which we have lots of." You easily pointed out. Besides, you were thinking of a company buddy nor a guarding dog.

He didn't give you an answer, just a pointed look and you knew that you were nowhere near convincing him.

"Why are you so opposed to getting a puppy? They're small and cute and an endless source of love and affection."

"Do I strike you as the affectionate type?" He deadpanned looking at you for a few seconds before focusing back to his paper. Obviously not.

"I know that you're not. Very well actually, always begging you for a little of attention." you sassed because in this case, appearances were not deceiving. It's not like his lack of affection came from the absence of feelings or emotion. You knew that he was deeply traumatised and he has a hard time showing affection other than with his eyes. Just being with you was a huge step forward for Bane and you're aware of that. While you appreciated deeply this will of his to step out of his comfort zone to please you, you couldn't help but feel something missing. Because there was. And it was not only a reference to his inability to kiss you. That was for obvious reasons. Sometimes though a soft caress was just as full of meaning as a kiss, especially when it was pretty much the only way he could show affection that was PG-13.

"Oh, I see what's happening here. You want a dog because I don't give you enough attention. That's selfish." He snickered and you were taken back by how cruel he sounded. Was he trying to hurt you? To make you feel guilty about your wish and desires? Ugh, such a man move.

"First of all, I'm not selfish. Seeking affection from the man you love isn't selfish, it's human. You don't have the same need for it and that's fine. That makes you different but it does not make me weak or weird. Plus, don't pretend that you won't be head over heels for a puppy after a while because that's a load of bullshit." Now the conversation has shifted to a more personal subject and the tone both of you restored to use didn't help to make the atmosphere less tense.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. There's no place for a dog in our lives. I'm sorry." You knew that in his way he was trying to apologize for his cutting words but now he had crossed a line and you were so fucking done with his dismissive attitude and assertive tone that suddenly you wondered why you were even asking him for permission. He wasn't your husband much less your father. You didn't owe him an explanation nor did you need his approval. Of course, his enthusiasm and participation would have made the whole experience even more jolly but it wasn't mandatory. You could do this even without him.

"Maybe in yours but you bet your ass that there is in mine."

You didn't realize that things had gone sour up until the moment you stormed off his room. Maybe you were being a little dramatic about it but that's just what happens when you're frustrated. And God only knows how much Bane is good at it. Despite what it could have looked like, your theatrical exit didn't mean you were going to leave him. As if. You hadn't climbed on top of the mountain just to go sliding down it at the last minute. You know him and you knew that he just needed some time to get adjusted to the idea. Or well, you hoped so. Because there was a beautiful light brown curly poodle in your arms now and since the first time your eyes landed on his quivering form, you knew that only death could separate you from the little thing.

Bane was pushed at the back of your mind, he was going to deal with it. He had to. Maybe he'd throw a fit at first but you'd guarantee that he would love him just as much as you did. He was the best little boy you knew after all. You had just got home from the animal shelter and was currently laying on your bed when a loud knock was heard. You quickly turn around to weakly try to hide the little thing with your body. You didn't answer, knowing already that it was him, but then again he wasn't asking for permission, he was just notifying you of his presence. Well then, so would you.

"Y/N?" His voice came muffled by the ever-present mask on his face. He sounded almost uncertain. He didn't know where he stood after last night. You had stormed off and he didn't come to your room that night to sleep. You didn't think too much of it given that it wasn't an unusual thing for him to do. He often works all night and you always wondered how he managed to function without a good night sleep.

You just hummed in response, too focused on playing with your new buddy. He was growing his teeth so he had the tendency to bite your fingers, his teeth were so tiny though that you hardly noticed.

"Listen, about last night-" he started but stopped when he came closer enough to the bed you were sitting on to see the puppy you were holding. "- was totally pointless seeing as you went ahead and did it anyway." he growled displeased with the fact that you went behind his back.

"You're my boyfriend and I love you but I don't need to ask for your permission. I wanted a dog and so I adopted one. You don't want it and that's fine. He won't be a burden for you in any way, I assure you. See? Not that selfish." you couldn't help but throw shade at him. What? You weren't angry that he didn't want a dog, but his words last night stung and he hadn't apologized for that yet.

He let out a deep sigh, and you knew that he was feeling guilty. No matter how violent and crude he was with certain people, he never was one to hurt people without a reason, people that he loved nor women. And you ticked two out of the three boxes.

"You're the least selfish person I know, I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean what I said." He simply offered but you took his apology gladly. Turning towards him, setting the dog on the ground so that he could explore a little, you simply looked at him in the eyes. They are really expressive.

"Does it really bothers you my need of affection? Is it a burden for you?" You ask. The thought that you could come across as clingy had never crossed your mind. Yes, you were affectionate but not that much. Or at least you thought so. But maybe for Bane's standards you were and he was just too kind to tell you.

Sitting next to you, he takes his hands in yours before speaking. "It really doesn't. I've never had someone to love him as you do before. Yes, sometimes it can feel too much but it's a good kind of feeling. Although I worry that you need more than what I can offer you." It was not the first time that he shared with you his apprehension of him not being enough for you. However, he never opened up to you like this before. The intensity of his gaze made him look more vulnerable than ever and suddenly you realized what the fuss was all about. He was scared.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're more than enough?" Allowing your foreheads to touch, you try and infuse your love to him so that he could feel less insecure. You felt a cold nose poking your leg and smiling a little, you picked him up and held him close to your faces.

"Besides, that's not true. Now you have someone else that will love you endlessly. He won't ever get angry at you and won't ever leave you. Say hi to daddy, baby." You cooed and smiled when the dog started licked Bane's cheek. By the way his eyes narrowed, you figured he was smiling under the mask. You attacked his other cheek with small little kisses so that he was smothered with love.

"We" kiss "love" kiss "you" another kiss. The giggle that he made was music to your ears. Holding you close to his chest, he let himself fall on the bed so that you and the dog were laying on him. Picking him up, Bane observed him for a moment.

"I guess we can keep him." He said and almost as if the puppy understood what he said, he barked and licked Bane's cheek again making you laugh and your heart flutter with joy.

[its-my-little-dumpster-fire]

Cures for What Ails You

John Whittaker x Reader, 2.8k

A/N: @malionnes​ asked for a pillow fight between John and Mrs. Whittaker but then my brain exploded and well.... here we are. If you’re really wanting to get into the mood, Smile Darn Ya, Smile by Billy Cotton is playing overtop the montage style lovey dovey crap that ensues after this fic and is quite literally John Whittaker’s theme song. 

Warnings: tender moments, tooth rotting sweetness, John’s vicious pout. 

Summary: Your husband is upset and you’re not entirely blameless, but you are armed with a growing list of known cures for John Whittaker’s blues. 

You hadn’t seen John in nearly an hour. Stranger still, you hadn’t heard John in that long. Maybe longer. Even if the post-dinner drinks took a turn toward the hysterical or theatric, you could find John quickly as his laugh was enough to rejuvenate the atmosphere and bring a sense of frivolity back to the family. It was John’s super power, keeping the women in check. Between his sisters’ bickering and his mother’s determination to spread anxiety like a summer cold spoiling the fun and sending everyone to an early bedtime, John had perfected his peace keeping repertoire. No one else could flash a smile at Marion and receive one in return. No one else could pinch Hilda’s sides and let her giggled insults roll off their tail feathers. No one- not even the missing Mr. Whittaker- could lift Veronica’s spirits with a simple kiss on the cheek. John could. You’d watched him single-handedly save more parties than you could count. Your shared childhood was littered with John Whittaker’s charming grin talking down disputes, distracting with humor, and dancing around whatever room or yard you’d gathered in, reminding everyone what a joyful occasion it was to be amongst friends. Even when Philip Hurst got mouthy or bratty and threatened to leave with whatever trinket he’d intended to show off, John could convince him to stay all while keeping a smile on sweet Sarah’s face, though some days you knew she’d prefer her brother’s retreat. He’d grown up a master mediator in a house of boisterous personalities pitted against each other with no support from his father while he was at war and even less upon his return. It was only one of the many things you adored about your husband, but a quite useful one. 

In a show of solidarity, you held your tongue more often than you would have liked. For his sake, of course. But after a particularly scathing comment courtesy of Hilda, who was egregiously pregnant and sent for a visit by her terrified husband, you jumped into the fray teeth first. Sisters truly were blisters, even if only yours by marriage. Your participation, taking pleasure in the volley of quips and comebacks, only fueled the guilt that gnawed your insides as you wandered the suspiciously quiet halls of the Whittaker house in search of your husband. His absence from the den was only recently noticed, but immediately felt. You’d glanced around the room and abandoned the drink you’d been pouring after realizing that John’s place at your hip, quieting you and reminding you that his family was crazy, has been vacant for far too long. Part of you was embarrassed. That you hadn’t noticed his escape sooner. That after an hour, you missed him more than you should. But the overwhelming part of you was concerned. As instrumental as John was in keeping the Whittakers from lashing each other to ribbons, he wasn’t always up for the task. 

As children, you’d stumbled upon John burrowed away in some corner chair with a book or a spinning top, drowning himself in self pity that even he couldn’t quell whatever storms were brewing in his sphere of influence, but claiming it was a stomach ache that had pulled him away. Known cures for the despondency included fancy chocolates that you two would pilfer from the kitchen, tickling or pillow fights that ended only for fear of bathroom accidents, and compliments, lots and lots of compliments. At least when you were young and the world was far less complicated. 

Pushing open the door to your bedroom, you wished to be young again. If only to have the confidence of lifting John’s spirits as easily as before. He was seated on the window seat, one arm holding a beaded pillow in his lap, while the other hung loosely out the propped open pane so that the hot ash of his cigarette would fall onto the walk up and not the carpet. 

“I thought I’d find you here...” you said, alerting John to your presence. He jumped slightly, clearly lost in thought before the door clicked shut behind you. “...moping.”

“I’m not moping,” John answered without looking back at you, flicking the burning end of his cigarette with his ring finger before pulling it back to his lips. “I’m smoking,” he mumbled through curled lips as he exhaled the evidence of his statement out the corner of his mouth. 

You hummed in response, crossing your arms over your chest, while still gliding across the floor. John had yet to turn and look at you, so you toed off your heels and let your stockinged feet slide across the carpet. You sat across from John, tucking your left knee up onto the bench with you and scooting forward until you hook your right calf around your husband’s hip, locking him in place and coaxing him to look at you. He huffed and rolled his eyes, twirling the smoke in his fingers and popping it directly between your lips without being asked. 

“Filthy grubber,” he scoffed, but even that was half hearted, an amused smile breaking through as you inhaled, pursing your lips while keeping eye contact with John. You didn’t speak right away and John kept his attention on his cigarette until it was an ashy pile on the windowsill. “I don’t know how you stand it,” he said casually as if it didn’t bother him at all. You knew it did. 

“Stand what, John?”

“Them,” he sighed. “The fighting, the nagging, the annoying little- everything.” His eyes were down, fingers plucking the tasseled corners of the pillow in his lap. “Makes me sick.”

“I know it does,” you admitted, reaching out to touch his knee. 

“Then why do you engage?” He asked suddenly and you didn’t know what to say. 

“I’m sorry, John-“ you tried, but he looked out the window again. 

“No. Not enough,” he addressed the night, shaking his head. “They’re my family,” you nodded. “They’re your family too,” he pointed out and while you initially shrugged, it dissolved into a resigned nod again. “They’re too much... I know this. Especially now with Marion’s new beau and Hilda’s moods and Mother... well,” he cleared his throat. “And Mother.” No explanation needed. “But the bickering... they’ve always been like that... you, you don’t need to join them.” His words were drawn out, tone wounded, eyes pitiful when they finally abandoned their search of the landscape to search yours instead. 

Your smile was guilty as you felt, pulled right across your lips as you had no explanation. When you said nothing, he looked down again, fluffing the pillow a little too aggressively. 

“John,” you sighed when his head remained low. “My sweet, sweet man,” you tried again, letting your fingers drift up the side of his neck until you could push back some of the hair that hung over his brows. “You said it yourself, they’re your family, which means they’re my family too. Who is better suited for arguments than family, hmm?” John’s chin tilted up, but not entirely. “I know it bothers you, John. I shouldn’t have let myself fall into their squabbles.”

“They make it quite easy,” he shrugged, looking at you and taking your left hand. His thumb run gently over the small, but meaningful stack of rings that he’d placed there himself a year ago. 

“Remarkably easy,” you added in a faux exasperation, pulling a smile and a head shake from your husband. “It’s part of being a Whittaker,” you smiled back at him, thumbing the skin of his cheek as your fingers dipped just past his hairline. “Which I intended to be forever, so we’ll just have to get used to it.” John tightened his grip on your hand and you assumed it was reflexive. “You’re not getting rid of me, John,” you assured him, sensing there was more than just disappointment fueling his retreat. It felt more like fear. “Our family cannot scare me off.” You squeezed his hand in return, curling your fingers around his ear as you leaned up on your knee to kiss his nose. Naturally, John’s head lifted again, forcing your lips down the bridge of his nose until you could meet his own. Right where he wanted you and you had no objections. “Thank you,” you sighed against his lips, pecking them gently before pulling away. “You do so much for us, John-“ he started to shake his head, but you didn’t allow it, pressing your lips to his firmly and holding his head in place. “You’re a good man, Mr. Whittaker, such a good man,” you whispered against his skin as though it were a secret. You’d happily share it with everyone you knew and made a mental note to do so at the next opportunity. 

“Must be,” he agreed. “To land a lovely lady like you, Mrs. Whittaker.”

“That was a mistake, remember?” You squeezed his hip with your leg then released him, pulling away from his embrace. “Your father landed me on your behalf.” 

“But it was my idea,” John whined, obnoxious grin plastered on his face once again. Victory. 

“Your best yet,” you smiled, pulling the pillow from his lap as you moved to stand, letting a good idea of your own roll around in your head. “Are you ready to rejoin the family, John? Or are you still unwell?”

John narrowed his eyes, mouth twisted up in devious thoughts. “I don’t think I’m quite well enough to leave the room,” he said smoothly, spinning in his seat and moving both hands to your hips to hold you in place where you stood between his knees. “And you should stay... care for your husband in his distress.”

“Distress?” You asked and John nodded slowly, tilting his head back in invitation, closing his eyes in full anticipation of the kisses he craved. You beautiful fool, you thought yourself, already laughing before the pillow in your hand came crashing down upon John’s face, scrunched in surprise as he scrambled to pull the throw from your hands. In his attempt to gather the weapon, you slid from his hands and vaulted up onto the bed, bouncing on the balls of your feet and making the mattress squeak beneath you. 

“Darling,” John said in a warning tone, but no threats came as he slung the pillow he’d taken back at your head. You squealed and managed to catch it in the air, but in your distraction, you missed John surging forward and catching you around the backs of your knees. John lifted you from the bed, spinning you both around the room as you slid down his chest, until your derrière rested comfortably atop his arms, crossed behind the backs of your thighs. Your top half curled inward, cradling his head close to your chest as you tried to keep yourself upright. He didn’t seem to have any plans to release you, content to spin slowly and burrow his smiling face into your blouse while your hands clung awkwardly to his shoulder and the back of his head. 

“John!” You wriggled in his arms, hoping to be put back on your feet- without being let go if possible. His breath was warm against your collar as he laughed, tilting his back to look up at you. Meeting him halfway, you dropped your forehead to his and feeling stable enough in your position, let one hand drift gently to the nape of his neck where the once perfectly coiffed and combed hair had softened and curled under his shirt collar. Your fingers found the soft ends and brushed them back from where they gathered in a thick curl behind his ear to the base of his skull, holding him in place as you leaned forward to kiss him. “You’re a cheat, John.”

“Only trying to even the playing field,” he assured you, finally letting your body slide through his arms until your feet touched the ground once more. “When I fight, I fight fairly,” he informed you with more flourish than necessary. As your eyes fluttered closed in an eyeroll to make his dramatic flair, John reached behind you for another pillow, thumping it across your middle and sending you tumbling backwards into your bed. 

Your hands scrambled against the bedding, grasping at sheets and mistaking them for pillow cases. John pounced and you squealed, body trapped between his knees and face caged in by his forearms flat on either side of your head. “You’re a rascal, John!”

“Am I?” He grinned, head tilting to the side before dropping a firm kiss upon your lips. “I thought I was a cheat.”

“You are both!” You exclaimed with both palms against his shoulders and shoving him off of you. Before his laughter could turn to protests, you had your husband flat on his back, straddling his hips and pinning his hands next to his head. 

John hummed, devious little glint in his eye as his pink tongue swept across soft lips. He wiggles his body against yours, not plotting escape, merely getting comfortable as he slid his hands through your grip until you were palm to palm, fingers curled together and tucked just behind his ears. “What else am I?”

You squeezed his hands, leaning down to pepper delicate kisses over his full and flushed cheeks. “The great love of my life,” you said honestly as it was all your brain could conjure at the moment. How could I not with him adorably splayed beneath you and still drawing you in. 

“Liar,” he breathed and you pulled back, confused not only by his statement, but the grin that accompanied it. “I’m your only love,” he clarified, flashing his teeth and the tongue caught teasingly between them. 

“You’ll not settle for the greatest, John?”

“Absolutely not,” he smiled and you couldn’t help but join him. “Only I have your heart, darling, I know it, but tell me anyway.”

You settled against chest and kissed him square on the lips. He was right. Of course. “You are my greatest and only love, John, I’d be lost without you.”

“You're just saying that,” he teased, face scrunched up as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“We’d all be lost without you, John,” you pointed out, more seriously this time. “You hold our family together even when it seems like no one wants it.” John swallowed and his face softened, falling slightly to take in your words. Good. He needs to hear them. “Your mother may keep us in line, but it’s your devotion that keeps us together,” his grip on your hands loosened and you pulled them free to hold his face while you spoke. “We are the Whittakers,” you said seriously, knowing how valuable it was to him to hear you claiming his name, his life, and even when it was unnecessarily difficult, his family. You’d never abandon him like those before you and whether you thought he should or shouldn’t, you knew he needed to be told as much. Probably more often than you were currently. “-but we wouldn’t be family without you, John.”

He curled his lips in around his teeth and nodded gently. His hair was pushed up behind his head at the small movement and you smiled at him again. “I love you,” he said quietly, pulling your face down to his, the statement catching against your lips. He didn’t always have words to express what he was feeling, but he never failed to tell you in his own ways. “I couldn’t love you anymore.”

“You’re just saying that,” you teased him gently, repeating his statement from just a few moment prior, when the air was lighter yet still so full of love. “Tell me again after this,” you took his hand and pulled him up from the bed, though it pained you to leave such a delightful embrace. 

With John’s hand in yours, you led him back downstairs, taking the long way through every hall to avoid being seen by any lingering Whittaker women. His free hand found your hip more than once and spun you into a nearby wall for another flurry of kisses before finally allowing you to pull him into the kitchen, where you unearthed a tin of the expensive chocolates Hilda’s husband had sent along to quell her cravings. You hadn’t a care in the world that tomorrow she’d be upset with you all over, not when they tasted so much better from your husband’s lips. Sitting in the dark kitchen, John passed you a cherry cordial using only his teeth and through your giggling you nearly missed the exchange. His lips and tongue soon followed, cleaning the tart red dribble from your chin before kissing you soundly and enjoying the sweet directly from the source. 

Once again your husband was light on his feet, practically dancing as he chased you back up to your rooms, where he caught you quickly and tossed you back into bed. Not a trace of John’s melancholia remained. 

After the pillow fighting, compliments, and sweets.... you added a fourth known cure to your list, delighting you both into exhaustion.

...

@something-tofightfor​ @the-blind-assassin-12​ @breanime​ @gollyderek​ @lexxierave​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @christinawxxx​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @songtoyou​ @malionnes​