- Cute, with hilarious visual gags - Wonderful and clean animation and character design - Detailed and colorful backgrounds - Metal Sonic - Sonic and Tails live inside of a crashed jet airplane - Old Man Owl wearing Sonic’s favorite clothes - The fact Knuckles yells about people not letting him get his work done - The fact Knuckles knows how to do mechanical work at all - Metal Sonic and Sonic being synchronized so they can feel what the other feels and hear each other’s thoughts - Eggman’s English dub voice - Knuckles calling Sonic his best friend - That one ridiculous kick Metal doles out to Sonic. You know the one. - Metal mimicking Sonic’s nose rubbing - The beeping noises Metal makes when he “talks” to Sonic - Overall ridiculousness. It’s 50 odd minutes of innocent lightness and fun. - The subtle characterization of Knuckles flinching away from sunlight and being a treasure hunter - “Turtle bomb ex machina” - Knuckles’ hat on fire - Knuckles’ hat in general - Fitting soundtrack - The fact that the Land of the Sky is resting on a SERIES OF GLACIERS ARE YOU KIDDING ME - Eggman’s muscly helper ‘bots - Metal and Sonic’s fighting - Everyone falling asleep during Eggman’s Exposition Speech - “There is only one Sonic”
An AU where Mafia member Taeyong falls in love with his best friend.
Taeyong, the beautiful broken boy. A boy that never smiled, that never talked unless he was spoken to. A feisty fighter, an impulsive soul that was quick to react on his feelings
He was never the type to sit still, always on the run. If there were no meetings, he was out drinking, smoking, gambling. He never liked being surrounded by people but when he was alone, he was surrounded by his thoughts
The clan had Taeyong for his main quality, his beauty. And how quick people were to fall for his face and mess everything up. All the other qualities were just a bonus. His smirks, evil and alluring. That devilish grin whenever he won. His bruised and calloused knuckles from all the fighting and his low deep voice when he threatened people
People were afraid of him, because he was so young and so cunning. Not very good with words but excellent at manipulating people’s emotions and using their weaknesses against them. He was intelligent, always guessing the troubles of others and using them as his weapon
He was pretty good with the gun too, always keeping one in his pockets, just in case. He had grown used to betrayal, not receiving much love as a child. As someone so quiet, no one was willing to adopt him from the orphanage. They saw him as rude and difficult. Jumping from one foster home to another, he decided nothing was constant in his miserable life. Except these boys and…you
A girl he met at a foster home. He only stayed six months but during those six months, he grew fond of you. You both clicked instantly as friends. Your charisma and energy contrasted so well with his patience and tranquillity. He wasn’t much of a talker but with you around, he didn’t need to do any talking. You both played together, went to school together. He smiled for the first time when he was with you on the school swings. And then laughed too, as you fell over. Deliberately of course. He assumed that laughing was taboo, that he couldn’t express himself in that way. He looked at you, and stopped but you told him it was okay. His laugh was beautiful. He had wanted to kiss you then and now that he’s older, he still does
He maintained a stealthy contact with you, careful that the boys don’t find out about you. The clan had a strict rule about relationships. They didn’t have time for girls (or boys). They were busy carrying out corrupt activities. But he couldn’t let go of you. Probably the only girl he ever loved
He hadn’t seen you in ten years, knowing that you shouldn’t see him now. He was so different. He was sure that his sinister actions would’ve had some effect on his appearance, that he didn’t want to see you
But one day he did. You were at the coffee shop, hurrying to get your coffee when you bumped into someone. That someone being entirely dressed in black. Pink hair peaked out from under his hood. When bowed and apologised, you recognised the voice. He looked at you from under the hood. “Taeyong?” You asked, smiling. His eyes widened at you, wanting to hide
You couldn’t help but stare at the beauty that sat in front of you. He looked everywhere but at you. His hair were a bright shade of pink and eyes wild. You only smiled at him, realising how much he’s grown up. From a shy, cute kid to a much more shy handsome adult. “How are you?” You asked, remembering that he didn’t talk much. He was awkward, trying to hide himself from you. He saw how much you had changed. You were such a beautiful young woman, hair much longer and face so much more mature. He had expected you to look different but you just sitting there snatched his breath away from him. He could still see the innocent face of the 11 year old and the same sweet smile and radiant eyes
You told Taeyong about yourself, your university. Upon asking him, he just gave you a vague answer. You stopped talking then. “I think I should leave,” you said standing up. He didn’t reply but just stared after you. As he saw you leave, he felt bad. He should’ve treated you with the same excitement as you treated him
So he called you the next day, asking you to star gaze with him. Typical Taeyong, choosing such a serene place to hang out. You met him on a hill that overlooked the city. He sat down next to you, looking so ethereal in the moonlight and the radiance rendered by the far off city lights
“You know, I prefer the city lights compared to the stars,” you said. He looked at you, confused. That night he kissed you. He wanted to so he leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. He had never felt so alive then, holding you in his arms the way he had always wanted to
He kept it all hidden from the boys and always sneaked out to meet you. He often came home bruised but you never questioned him. He got annoyed fairly easily ever since he was a kid
But one day the curiosity got the best of you when you saw his knuckles. “Taeyong,” you said, sitting close to him. He put a hand on your waist and pulled you closer. He was extra needy today, burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent. “I always wanted to ask you…what do you do? Why are you always injured? Why do you always cancel plans last minute?” He rested his head on your shoulder. Your heart beat was rapid, ready for him to burst or shout but he just lay on your shoulder, silent
“If I tell you, you’ll hate me and you’ll leave.” You held his hand and sighed
“I will never leave,” you said. He kissed your neck and pulled away
“I’m in a mafia. I do all sorts of bad things. I’m a bad person Y/N. I’ve killed, I smoke, I’ve smuggled stuff. I don’t deserve you Y/N” You leaned in and kissed him. His eyes were wet. “I had a hunch that you were up to no good,” you smiled at him. You couldn’t let him go. He was the only person who really understood you. “I love you,” you said. You laid him down on the couch. Sometimes words aren’t enough to express your love. Your kisses trailed down from his lips to your jawline and down to his neck. You both had had sex before but this was different. This time you were making love to him. You straddled him and caressed him, making him feel all sorts of things for you. The room was dimly lit by the lamp as you rode him, gently. His words, loving words, words of desperation were still fresh in your mind when you woke up the next morning
He finally told the clan that you were his girlfriend. They had some objections since love makes people weak. But they knew that all Taeyong needed was love. He was too hard on himself and needed someone to care for him
Taeyong smoked, drank, did everything bad. But you kept him sane, you gave him a reason to stay. You were really all he needed
The words Harry once neglected before were now imprinted in his mind, not leaving once you did. It was those simple words he knew not to fuck up ever again.
He knows how you are. He knows what you meant by those words. He knows that by what you said, it didn’t mean that you want God to forbid you from being tired physically. He already knew you are every day.
You meant that you didn’t want to get tired in the aspect that you were more than ready to give up. Harry knew how well you could keep up because he’s seen it before.
And God forbid you get tired of him.
There was a thought that appeared from his sub-conscious, making him almost jump in his seat in response of how much he hated it, his large hands gripping his hair.
Alcohol isn’t advisable nor recommended at the moment. It wouldn’t help his case and he knew that exactly.
You though of it too. But minutes later, you found yourself sitting next to the mini refigerator your room has with a beer in hand, putting a bill on the counter with a note because you didn’t want to be like one of those obnoxious guests.
The floor and the beer’s cold, and so is Harry’s flat. He didn’t want to call it home because you weren’t there with him and so was he mentally to be even considered as one.
“Can I call now?”
Harry’s hands were shaking, his thumb reaching out to press ‘send’ along with his hand that reached for your blanket you used to wrap yourself in whenever you were waiting for him, squeezing it.
It took every bit of Harry to stop himself from hurling objects across the room. He’d close his eyes and breathe deeply, until your words of “Self-control, love.” came into effect. He admits that he doesn’t have the longest of tempers and the highest dosage of control.
His attention is fully fixed on his phone now, another pang on his chest when he saw your reply.
He specifically told you not to put periods at the end of your messages because it scared him. Maybe it’s the changed meaning every time there’s a punctuation, maybe it’d the formality.
And right now, he has every reason to be.
“Don’t get tired on me yet. You’re not going to get tired, you’re not. You’re not tired.”
Harry muttered the words once you accepted the call, not letting a single second going to waste since he precisely has 300 of it.
He’s slowly losing his right state of mind without you by his side. He was so used to being tolerated for the way he is that he forgot how to not feel when it was the other way around.
“It’s not for me to decide but I’m trying to influence you to it. The only time you’re going to be tired is when we’re gonna take care of our future kids. You’re only going to be tired when you’re out of breath not because of a fight, but from something we both like.”
Harry’s tears were pouring involuntarily with him not having any control over it, the hoarseness of his voice slightly hurting his throat from speaking faster normally than how he did.
“You’re only going to be tired when we’re packing bags to go on vacation and on tour. You’re only going to be tired from jet lag and lack of sleep and not from us. The only time you’re going to be tired is when we fight with our kids and that’s it.”
The hurt in his chest was starting to get unbearable now, the grip on the blanket to the point where his hand was going numb and his knuckles going white were getting the best of him.
His voice cracked, completely letting go of his ego and his pride, a desperate plea coming from his lips he’s willing to repeat if that’s what’s going to make you agree.
“You’re not going to get tired on me, Y/N. And that’s final.”
He used up a minute, being scared of the remaining ones because those are the last moments he’s going to hear your voice for that day.
“I know I haven’t gave you the best of reasons to not be, and I know that. I do. But love, please listen to me.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
His heart skipped a beat when he heard your voice since he didn’t expect for you to talk, he knew silence was the only thing you could muster in times like these.
“I’m trying to make you come home.”
“Is there home?” you asked in a whisper and ended with a harsh tone in your voice.
His grip loosened, opening and closing his hand repeatedly until he could feel the warmth go back to his veins again.
“Do you love me?”
Harry felt rigid, a cold shiver down his spine from what you asked because he never thought it would come to this. He never thought that you would ask him for confirmation if he still loves you because at moments like this, there was no other choice.
You leaned your head against a cabinet which made you let out a cry, not because of the pain but because of what he answered, an angry cry coming out of your lips that alerted Harry, sitting up straighter.
“Then why the hell did you do it?”
He felt his breathing come shallow, his gaze going elsewhere that didn’t make any sense.
“Because I only thought of myself.”
Maybe you were too selfless that you put Harry on top of your priorities that you weren’t on his.
“Because I wasn’t thinking.”
You remembered all the nights you would greet him by the door with a hug he’d reciprocate half to, ignoring the pain it caused because you love him too much that it hurt you.
“Because I wasn’t thinking of you and I deeply regret that.”
You spilled too much over the tipping point of your rock-bottom, the pain being overwhelming that you were momentarily numb from it until he spoke again.
“There isn’t anyone like you. And I’d rather not have the chance to find that out because I’m not going to take any.”
His voice was stern yet still gentle, a tone on his voice that you barely heard these past few months.
“I’m selfish; I know. I do know that. I’m selfish when it comes to having you because I just am.”
Harry breathed in deeply, his tears decreasing and so is his voice.
“I may not be the best at all things. But I know I’m selfish when it comes to having you because you make me feel like I am. And Y/N, I love that.”
He was starting to get calm now but not too much that he was confident of having you again since he didn’t want to jinx it, a tentative look on the door.
“Please come back here. I know — I know that I don’t hold the many promises that I make but I swear to God that this is real.”
He closed his eyes, wanting to desperately feel you by his side.
“You are my home.”
The phone dropped, making Harry almost break down right then and there and doubt himself that he didn’t try hard enough. That maybe he was too stupid to take you for granted and have this result.
He was so close to hurling his phone against the wall but no, he decided against that because he’s going to call you tomorrow. Maybe he’s going to call you so he put it down again, an uneasy look on his face.
Minutes or hours passed since he wasn’t sure of it passed and he spent the majority of it crying. He didn’t know why but he chose to relive by the words you told him and how broken you looked. He didn’t know why but it pained him to realize that he’s going to be the only one to do that to you.
He doesn’t know whether it’s a privilege or not.
And so, just as he felt to break the rules and let a friend track your call, the door opened.
You were there standing, a moment of realization hitting you from the moment that you ended the call is that you wouldn’t have it either way.
You’d rather be hurt because of Harry than to not at all.
He stood up instantly, taking careful steps towards you before it sank in him, hugging you so tightly and closely that you could feel his tears streaming down on your neck.
He cried onto you, heavy breathing filling the aie as you let him do it, your arms wrapping around him which made him more than grateful.
He whispered the words, but still loud and powerful enough for you to hear and to be inked forever into you.
You knew it later on by his song, yet it was the most precious to him since it held the most meaning to him, and so did it on to you, letting him convice you to get the title inked onto you, still in the meaning where only he gets to know.