Swifty the Shrew was becoming Sonic’s biggest problem yet. Who talked in hippie urban lingo? And why were people digging it? Amy had fallen for it, Sticks, Perci, Staci- all the ladies and then all the guys went with and thought he was so cool with his ‘flashy threads and streetwise style’. No siree. He just stole Sonic’s thunder as the town hero.

“Come on, you can’t tell me that’ll hold for long.” Sonic scoffed, his feet propped up on the coffee table of your sofa as he sat back, having spent the last hour complaining about Swifty. It bruised his pride, ego, everything to see Swifty.

To see him take his rightful place, his. Sonic got possessive over his title as the number one guy, he couldn’t help it.

He scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “And then Amy and Sticks - no offence to them - are being slack-jawed rubes and not seeing that he’s not it, y’know?” Then he looked to you, wondering if you felt the same. God, he hoped you didn’t. He’d thank all the chilli dogs above if you didn’t. Because you were his one lifeline at this point, cause even Tails liked Swifty.

Tails.

Sonic huffed, then looked to you, wondering if you were even listening to his tangent. “Are you even paying attention?” Tails was his main man. It kinda stung to not have him at his back, but oh well. Swifty played him good. Ugh.

Sonic would feel ten times better with just your approval.