#and it was so cool seeing early comedians get their feet under them even if it was a bit of an arena early on

[callixton]

i miss mock the week……

[lluvguts]

extra sugar // reddie

pairing: modern! richie tozier / eddie kaspbrak

warnings: none!

word count: 1964

summary:  Richie has been going to the same coffee shop for a week now but the barista still won't get his name right.

Richie’s stomach did a little flip when he opened the cool glass door into the coffee shop. Not because of the menu, showcasing their outrageously priced drinks, but at the young barista behind the counter. Richie couldn’t seem to shake that jittery feeling, he got his coffee from the same place every morning and still that kind face smiling back at him sent a new shiver of want every time.

The first time they’d met was a week before. A Friday, filled with Richie scrambling to get his stand-up act written on time in the early hours in that secluded coffee shop before his theatre class started. Richie had noticed between sips of a sugary mocha latte that the barista was sneaking careful glances at his hunched, furiously typing frame from behind the bakery display case. An older woman had taken Richie’s order before he sat down, but that didn’t stop the younger boy from hiding behind the large glass of pastries so Richie might be led to believe he wasn’t staring. But today, it was him taking Richie’s order, like it had been ever since he’d decided to return for some good coffee over the weekend—and to see those warm brown eyes again.

The barista did a small wave, inviting Richie into the comforting blanket of coffee smells and churning espresso machines that he’d grown to appreciate. Richie’s wallet, however, was not as happy. Each drink was eight dollars or more.

When he’d stepped up to the register his heart did that annoying jumpstart again, almost surprised to see the familiar face. The name Eddie was written with a practiced hand on one of the pins tied to his apron, among other buttons and colorful patches. Of course he knew his name , but he’d never stopped to examine the array of shiny pins across his chest. Richie took note of the newest addition to Eddie’s pin collection: a rainbow pride flag nested under his name tag, its colors glinting bright and well, happily in the golden house light.

“What can I get you?” Eddie’s voice brought him out of his head. He flashed a grin, making Richie’s heart lose it. “The usual?”

“If by ‘usual’ you mean whatever sends me into heart failure the quickest, then yes ,” Riche replied, gaining enough of that on-stage confidence to smirk back, earning a blush from Eddie.

“How about I surprise you?” Eddie turned to the screen in front of him, punching in a few details to the order, giving Richie the perfect amount of time to realize how many freckles spanned across Eddie’s softened features. And maybe even imagine how delicate his fingers would have to be if he’d let his hands brush across those flushed cheeks. Or what else his long fingers could brush over...

Nope. He saved those thoughts for when his classes were over and for nights spent in bed alone, after rehearsing his lines while inhaling microwaved instant ramen. Not right now when he was standing in front of him.

They’d only made small talk at the register, and every time Richie’s hands touched Eddie’s to get his coffee (knowing now was really the only time to say something) his mouth wouldn’t open. He’d remain frozen in place, the only sign of life chugging through his sleepy system being his wide eyes as he read the name on the cup. Or rather, the misspelled name . He had been keeping track of Eddie’s butchered attempts at writing Richie Tozier, finding it to be a constructive use of his free time—and a wonderful reason to flirt back.

Just Rich. Chee. Mr. Toziér. Richi Tozeer.

At that point he wanted to yank the coffee cup from Eddie’s hands and write his own damn name for him. Just to have an excuse to see if his palms were calloused and weathered, or warm and plush like he fantasized them to be.

Richie dug into a pocket of his skinny jeans for his wallet. “Go ahead, surprise me. But extra sugar .” Eddie nodded at this but was still focused on the register.

“Roger that. I’ll bring it to your table,” Eddie said with a wink.

“Thanks Eds,” Richie said back and handed over the money. Eddie lost all of the teasing glint he’d had before, instead he fell into his repertoire of shy little smiles. He was flustered and Richie found it very adorable.

“Oh, it’s just Eddie.”

“I know, I just like seeing that look on your face.”

Eddie stiffened, ignoring the other customers waiting behind Richie. “ What look?”

He chuckled and went over to an empty couch. He plopped down with his backpack while Eddie scooped a shaky cup of coffee beans into a grinder, trying not to blush and look his way.

Richie watched Eddie make his drink, peering down the edge of the counter to see that despite the growing overcast outside he was wearing shorts—ones that hugged his upper thighs and made Richie curse him to the depths of hell for even thinking of wearing them. His mind started to go south so he quickly slipped his backpack over his lap to hide his excitement at the sight of Eddie crouching down to rummage for new coffee syrup in a low cupboard—it was a serious effort to tear his longing gaze away from those painfully visible legs. He got out his phone instead, opening up some mindless puzzle game with a pounding heart so he’d stop thinking about the stupid barista with the cute ass only a few feet away. But that stupid barista was all he could think about ever since he saw him...

A to-go cup was set before him on the little rustic table, followed by a voice. “Mind if I join you? I’m on my break.”

Richie stopped sorting bright, pixelated candies and looked up at Eddie’s hopeful smile and the waft of steam peeking out of the plastic coffee lid. Before he said anything back he turned the coffee cup around until he could see the name scrawled in sharpie.

“‘ Riche Tisher ?’ How are you further off than yesterday?” Richie laughed, then nearly choked. Written after this was a phone number. Eddie’s phone number.

Eddie shifted on his toes, blinking nervously at the floor. “I know your name. I just liked seeing your reaction every time. It was um, kinda cute.”

Richie cleared his throat and hoped his next words didn’t sound too idiotic. “ Oh . Well, thanks, I guess.” Richie made room on the couch then hesitantly lifted his backpack off his jeans to set it on the floor. He kept his eyes level with the table so he wasn’t too tempted to glance down at Eddie’s bare legs dangerously close to his. He screamed at himself to say something other than his default of: a flirty insult or half-heard blubbering, but Eddie pointed to the cup.

Richie almost visibly sighed in relief and reached for his drink. “What‘s in it?”

Eddie smirked. “Surprise, remember? You tell me.”

Richie stared at that shiny rainbow pin on Eddie’s apron as he took a sip, consumed with the sweetness of honey and lavender.

“It’s my favorite thing on our menu. And the least pricey,” Eddie said.

“Well that’s good, cause I’m going to go broke after all these coffees.”

Eddie pondered over this. “You do come here often. Do you live in the area?”

“Actually, I go to the college a few blocks down. But the dorms suck.”

Eddie’s brown eyes livened at that information. “What’s your major?”

“Performing Arts. I wanna do comedy, but for now I’m stuck doing acting.” Richie said and returned that interested stare.

“Yeah, the dorms really do suck.”

Suck was an understatement. Half the time Richie’s roommates only showed up at the crack of dawn, tripping over themselves they were so wasted, to collapse onto—usually—Richie’s available bed and wouldn’t move for the rest of the morning. Even if Richie was still under the covers, fighting to breathe under their immense weight.

“You go there too? How come I never see you?” Richie tried not to sound overly eager.

“I take night classes...So I can still work,” He said with a tentative smile.

His face fell. “Oh. Sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t realize that.”

“You know, to be a great comedian you have to be able to pay attention,” Eddie teased.

Richie had been paying attention, but maybe not to all the right things.

He exposed the side of the coffee cup with Eddie’s number on it. “Well, if I’ve been reading my audience, it looks like someone is trying to get me to call them.”

Eddie let his eyes wander to Richie’s backpack, where he too had a rainbow pride flag pinned to its front. His eyes widened and the color faithfully returned to his cheeks.

If Richie thought he had it bad, Eddie outshone his awkward attempts at conversation in the very attractive, breathless, asking-a-guy-out category. “Yeah, you definitely hit the mark on that one. Maybe, if you want to, of course...We could um, get dinner sometime? If you’re not busy— or if you aren’t seeing anyone! I totally didn’t realize. Well, if you want to?...”

Richie hadn’t really been listening, ironically enough. He was too caught up in that warmth on Eddie’s face, almost able to feel the heat of his embarrassment from across the couch. Eddie sat waiting for a reply, and in place of one Richie leaned forward with a delicate hand, just to let his fingertips touch the curve of Eddie’s jawbone. Only briefly, the slightest feel of his cheek, his racing heart, trailing a finger down to his chin, then hesitantly returning to his lap. Though bold, it was the only way to communicate with his actions what his stammered words had failed to say for the last week. Hey, I think I like you. You’ve got a cute face, too. See how soft it is?

Eddie’s breathing was reduced to a short little stutter in his throat, eyeing Richie’s hand with surprise as it was no longer against his cheek.

“Y-You certainly a put on a good show,” Eddie said when he could use his lungs again, shifting to stare at Richie’s dark eyes. It was like the rest of the coffee shop fell away, and Richie found himself stuck in a scene he didn’t know the lines to, with no stage directions to rely on. There were no wings, no gaping audience—only his own feelings to drive him forward. Only Eddie next to him.

Richie took the empty cup, swirling around the last dregs of honeyed coffee before examining the number so he could type it into his contacts. “This is only the first act, Eds. You could come by my dorm before your classes start? We’ve got pizza. A five star meal, of course.”

He grinned. “It’s Eddie . So is this... play, a comedy or a tragedy?”

Richie pretended to be deep in thought. “I was thinking something along the lines of a romance , but it’s totally your call. We could Romeo and Juliet this bitch and both die in the end.”

Eddie playfully bumped Richie’s shoulder, then glanced at his phone for the time.

“I gotta get back to work, but...dinner? Around seven?”

“Perfect.”

“And, if this is only the first act, ” Eddie toyed with one of the bracelets on Richie’s wrist. For a shy little barista of a man, he sure could flirt. “How many scenes are we talking here?”

Richie gave him a knowing smile. “You’ll have to wait and see. And thanks for the coffee, Eds.”

He frowned at Richie’s expectant grin, fighting the urge to smile through his irritation. “That’s not my name.”

“‘Riche’ isn’t mine either!”

[lothioriien]

richie tozier and his zoomer teen: headcanons

A/N: I tried keeping this as gender neutral as possible, but idk it’s a lil implied that the kid’s a girl. i’m trying to learn how to write gender neutral stuff :”)

By teenager, I mean around 16-17! High school age!!

Enjoy!

Sometime in the early 2000s, famous comedian Richard Tozier went to a party and came home with a woman.

oh yeah they deffo got it on that night

But that was a one night stand kind of thing, and Richie didn’t have any contact with her until about a year later.

He got up the couch one early evening to the ringing of his doorbell, and found a basket and a bag filled with baby food, diapers, and clothes perched on his doorstep

And in the basket? A small child, an apology note from the mother, and a birth certificate with his name listed as the father.

Oh boy did his life completely change after that.

It was him and the child, against the world.

but let’s skip the details on him struggling to take care of an infant first and move on a bit to when the kid’s older.

You, of course, are the baby that was left on his doorstep, and Richie tried to be the best father he could be despite his touring career as a comedian.

He’d bring you to the shows, even if you didn’t understand a thing that went on, though eventually when you’d help him write some material when you were older.

Constantly touring with him as a kid meant you were homeschooled. But that didn’t stop you from having a social life. You’d be friends with a lot of his fellow comedians, and John Mulaney was your ultimate favorite friend of his.

you just loved the very tall and gangly twelve year old looking man named uncle john.

Your academic life though was not too bad. You’re pretty intelligent, but when it came to maths, oh boy.

As a kid, you’d ask Richie constantly about math. He’d hate the school curriculum you had because math was different back when he was younger. He’d always help you, but it was mostly the internet just teaching you both.

You’d introduce him to vines (through iconic vine compilation videos), but mostly because he was so confused with this new language you were speaking.

Eventually he’d say some vines back to you and it’d come off so weird cause he’s a 40 year old white dad. You love him, nonetheless, and appreciate the effort

A lot of your instagram stories or snapchat stories are you filming him as you sing “You are my dad! You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!”

He found it cute at first, where he would smile at you hiding behind your phone and hug you after cause dang he loves his kid so much and would die for you

then later, he’s evidently so annoyed because you do it constantly. As in he takes off his glasses, puts his head in his hands and just sighs so loudly.

When tiktok became the new vine, you were on the app every single day, making it a goal of yours to become tiktok famous.

You’d force your dad to do tiktoks with you

“I love my daddy. he is my superhero”

“Famous relative check!”

BUT THE PERFECT AUDIO

“Don’t look at me like that.” “YOU’RE MY DAD. BOOGIEWOOGIEWOOGIE!”

Gaining some clout because he is a pretty famous comedian 👀

Saying “ok boomer” to him when he’d annoy you

But then he’d clap back by being like “What the fuck Y/N. I was born in 1976, i’m not that old.”

“Yeah but sometimes you think like a boomer.”

“Ok, zoomer.”

“Dad. No. Get out.”

He’s really chill with you swearing. You definitely got that habit from him.

“What the actual fuck, Richard.”

“At least have the fucking decency to call me dad, Y/N.”

He got you into video games at a young age. Every time there was a new console or a new interesting game out, you’d both be up early to go out and get the said console/game.

And in each game you’d play, there would be hilarious commentary.

it’s basically that video with bill hader playing god of war with conan but imagine that and a zoomer’s feral energy combined.

He also got you into becoming a cinephile. Though unlike him, you read the books before watching the movie.

Marathoning a bunch of tv series together and you can never watch any new episode without him. Friday nights were reserved especially for it.

Richie can’t fucking cook for the life of him. Growing up, it was always take out, pizza, instant noodles, or mac and cheese.

He tried learning how to cook, he really did. But it was just so bad that eventually you’d learn how to do it. Then you’d try to teach him how too.

But did he get better as a cook?? Not really.

He once accidentaly set almost the whole kitchen on fire when he tried making pasta when you were 15.

“DAD, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PUT WATER IN THE POT FOR PASTA.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT? I JUST WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU!”

“I APPRECIATE THE GESTURE BUT PLEASE DON’T EVER TRY TO COOK AGAIN.”

The following morning, he got up and learned how to make pancakes with sausages, bacon, and eggs.

It was damn good, and by far the best thing he ever made.

So his pancakes became a regular thing.

On casual dinner nights at home, he’d let you have a drink with him and be drinking buddies. He taught you how to drink and be safe with drinks (cause we stan a protective father amirite)

Speaking of protective father, he’d be so picky and open about the people you’d date

“Really Y/N? That person? They’re fucking trash and you know it. You deserve better, sweetie.”

“But dad. They’re hot.”

“That’s still a no from me, kiddo.”

Having the most random, yet somehow meaningful conversations with Richie, yet roasting him at the same time.

“Y/N, do you think I would be classified as a papi by people.”

“No. You still wear hawaiian shirts over a t-shirt. You’re too tacky for that. You’re a papa, not a papi.”

But somehow, you also adopt his fashion style?

Cause hawaiian shirts are pretty cool? Very John Deacon ala 80s aesthetic?

And then he roasts you back from the time you called him tacky.

“Respect the drip, Richard.”

Even though you always poke fun at each other, you guys are actually so open with each other and just talk about anything and everything.

Oh no when you first got your period, he was panicking and nearly bought the entire aisle of pads and tampons because he was so clueless

Meeting the Losers Club was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You didn’t know what to expect of them or what they’d expect from you.

You clung to your dad the whole time, watching him reunite with his childhood friends. Each one of them had a look of surprise and confusion the moment they laid their eyes on you.

They found you to be like a mini-me of Richie, as both of you were clad in printed/hawaiian shirts and glasses.

“Jeez, Richie. Why’d you decide to bring a fucking clone of yourself?” asked Eddie.

“That’s my kid, you dumbass! Eddie, this is Y/N.”

“No shit, you have a kid! You got married, dipshit?”

“No, uh, it’s just them and me.”

You decided to butt in jokingly, “Joe was in the picture for a while too,”

“Joe? Who the fuck is Joe?” The minute Eddie asked this, Richie knew what was coming next.

“Joe mama.” Thus receving a high five from your father and a groan from Eddie.

at first, everyone else would not believe Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier had his very own kid, but the minute you started to get comfortable and joke around, it really clicked for them.

“There’s no doubt they’re Richie’s kid. Look at them! They’re basically a carbon copy of him!” Eddie would have exclaimed.

You‘re very liberal and open-minded, supporting the LGBT+ community and such, but you didn’t really know Richie’s stance on it.

Perhaps it was because he’d been surpressing his feelings for a specific boy from his childhood for almost his entire life, and he didn’t really talk about that topic so much.

But when you saw the chemistry between your dad and Uncle Eds, you sensed a little something there on both ends.

always saying a specific vine under your breath when you see them “two bros, chilling in a hot tub, five feet apart cause they’re not gay” (thank you to for this hc)

OKAY UNCLE EDS LIVES IN THIS AND HE’S DEFFO A BIG PART OF YOUR LIFE AFTER ONE SPECIAL TRIP TO DERRY, MAINE.

You’d say the vine so much, Richie eventually heard it and pulled you aside.

“Y/N, I- how did you know?”

“Know what dad?”

It took a little while for him to come up with the proper words to say. How was he gonna break this to you?

“Y/N..honey, I’ve had feelings for your Uncle Eds ever since we were kids. I-i don’t know, it really scared me as a kid to feel that way so I never talked about it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, kiddo, I’m gay.”

“Huh? I thought you were American?”

the man was basically on the verge of tears. He was so tense, he almost forgot to breathe. But the moment you hugged him and told him that it’s okay, that you love him so much, and that you’re so proud of him, he wrapped you in the biggest bear hug and cried. You cried too.

A/N: Imma end it here for now :)

So sorry it took forever!! I hope you enjoyed!!

Let me know if you want a part 2! 🤪

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

skateboard kid

Summary: hc about Richie being injured and Stan and Bill taking care of him 

A/N: this was requested by @mpmarypoppins she has a blog where she writes amazing imagines about Barry and IT so check that out I swear she’s amazing: @fangirl-imagines

- So first off Richie is a dumbass even as an adult 

 - He pulled a muscle in his upper leg and contracted a huge bruise  on his cheek - For the dumbest reason too

 - After ending his show just the night before, a kid that couldn’t have been older than 9 had showed up in the ally where Richie was supposed to leave the venue through. Richie wanted to be kind, and so he had offered to take a picture with the kid he thought was there to see him. The kid had laughed saying he didn’t need a picture with a comedian who wasn’t even funny and who his parents were a fan off. He had called Richie old and washed up

- which Richie, the idiot, couldn’t have just let go. He had looked up furious towards the kid, before noticing that he was holding a skateboard. Richie had smirked and told him that old man or not, he was still a pro at skateboarding, something he had picked up during high school, and he was better than him by a mile.

 - Spoiler alert, he was. At least, he was until the damn kid got mad and pushed him back. Richie had fallen over the skateboard, taking a heavy tumble towards the ground, that had felt less than soft. He had pulled a muscle in his upper leg, while also contracting a huge bruise on his cheek. Instantly the kid felt the heat and ran off without so much of a second thought, luckily his manager was there, who called the ambulance immediately. 

 - Not only was it embarrassing to Richie, whose fans had seen the way he was rolled into the ambulance, but it had also made sure that Bill and Stan went batshit crazy protective boyfriends on his ass. 

 -  Stan had insisted on being both Richie and Bill’s emergency contact, because Richie almost never picked up his phone, and Bill would panic way too much. - So once Richie makes I’m into the hospital, his contact needs to be called

- Richie had been in the hospital way too many times before so everyone knows Stan - And no nurse ever wants to call Stan 

 - Because Stan might laugh at Bill saying he panics too much, but really, he is just as bad 

 - So anyway the nurses pick straws and  the one unlucky bastard has the misfortune

 - Stan recognises the number straight away and his breathing picks up a little

 - And when the nurse tells him that Richie is injured, he rushes out his office straight away 

 - Which he never, ever does, cause he hates leaving early

 - He owns his own company by the way, and he just feels like if he leaves the whole place will fall apart

 - But as soon as he hears that Richie is in the hospital, and he’s in a lot of pain he’s out

 - He call Bill on his way to the car and Bill too drops everything to go to the hospital 

 - He was at a meeting with his publisher and it was really important, but nothing is as important to him as his two boyfriends 

 - When they finally make it to hospital, Richie is pretty drugged up on painkillers

 - So he’s pretty much laughing at everything with his nurse, who he has decided he absolutely adores 

 - ‘So my girlfriend caught me jacking off to her best friends Facebook page’ - And he starts laughing 

 - The nurse is laughing too because it was so funny to see him laugh at his own jokes before he could even tell them 

 - And then Bill and Stan show, while rolling their eyes because that was so dumb, and Richie instantly wants to jump up and hug them, he just makes grabby hand at them 

- Bill nearly melts to a puddle because of how cute Richie is being - Stan nearly melts inside but he keeps it together on the outside

 - Stan is also instantly question the nurse to figure out what exactly is wrong and what they need to do to make it better. He keeps Looking at Richie from the Conner of his eyes though

 - Bill sits on the side of Richie’s bed, grabbing his hand tightly and pressing a kiss to his temple.

 - The nurse says that he pulled a muscle pretty bad, so it would take about 10 weeks for it to heal and he needed to rest for at least 7 weeks

 - He would also need some physiotherapist to get used to using the muscle again

 - Stan winces because Richie was going to hate laying still for that long, not to mention that he was also going to be in so much pain as soon as the drugs wore off.

 - Richie is allowed to leave, so after struggling for a good 3 hours they finally make it home.

 - By that time Richie is coming to his senses, and he overhears Stan telling Bill that he was going to need to lay still for at least 7 weeks 

- And Richie just knows that he was not going to survive that long 

 - Now we’re two weeks in the long 7 weeks, and Richie just about had it - He loves Stan and Bill with all his heart, but he can’t stand them at the moment 

 - He never had any alone time

 - Stan had taking his work home and was regulating his office from besides Richie’s bed, where he was positioned, and in the very brief moments he had to go to work, he made sure that Bill was home. 

 - And when Bill was done with going to meetings and was home, which was like always because Bill is a writer, he spent all- which was like always because Bill is a writer, he spent all his free time with Richie too

 - They always make his food, do all his chores for him, grab a cool cloth to place on his forehead to help cool him down when the pain he’s too much, Bill reads his new story to him and asks Richie for ideas, Stan will watch movies with him.... 

 - And again Richie loves them both, but any time he so much as reaches his hand out to grab his phone, Bill and Stan are already on his case about him needing to keep still because he was injured

 - And he knows his boyfriends are just worried and he is in a lot of pain but for fuck sake he was just grabbing his phone 

 - And so after only two weeks a fight breaks out 

 - Which was to be expected

 - It’s like this cage fight Richie vs Bill and Stan 

 - Richie freaks out because Bill wouldn’t let him go to the bathroom without him, to which Richie started screaming that he wasn’t a toddler for fuck sake

 - Which made Bill mad too 

- ‘All we’re doing is helping you Richie’, he said with determination is his voice 

- ‘Yeah well you’re not, I love you, but I don’t need you guys here every minute of every fucking day’. Richie had screamed 

 - Stan had come into the room at this point too, he was cooking, and tried to break up the fight. 

 - Instead he got pulled in too 

- ‘Richie, Bill’s right we would leave you alone if we knew that you wouldn’t be an idiot and stay in bed’. Stan replied rather harsly, but it was just because he cared about Richie.

 - ‘Oh so know I’m the idiot because some kid pushes me?’ Richie spat with venom in his voice   

-  Stan shook his head, ‘that’s not what I meant Rich please, don’t blow this up’ 

- But the damage had already been done and Richie refused to stay in bed while Stan and Bill were still there 

 - ‘Fine, we’ll leave you alone for the night, if that’s what you want’. Bill said 

 - Even though that’s really not a good idea

 -  Nighttime is usually the one time they all have time for one another, which is why it’s their ritual to always, no Mather what sleep in the same bed with each other 

- So know Richie is mad, in pain and deeply sad 

 - Because he didn’t want to sleep alone 

 - But just like Stan, Richie is too stubborn for his own good and he won’t ask Stan or Bill to stay.

 - He never sleeps well when He sleeps alone, but his medicine kick in so he falls asleep pretty fast.

 - And he had a horrible dream 

 - He jumps up awake, but because neither Stan or Bill is there with him he panics 

- Because I’m his dream Stan got hurt really bad.

 - He takes a look at his clock and sees that it’s 4:30.

 - He knows that Stan will most likely wake up in an hour and check up on him, because Stan is a worrier and no Mather how mad he got he would never want Richie to be in pain, but he can’t wait that long because at this point he doesn’t know if it was just a dream or reality 

 - So he gets out of bed fast, and the pain in leg is excruciating, but he carries on through 

- He calls out to Stan and even he recognizes that he sounds like he’s about 5 seconds from having a mental breakdown

 - He throws the door open and sees Stan’s head lifting up slightly, looking disoriented, most likely because he was just roughly awakened 

 - And Richie breaths a breath of relief, but then he doesn’t see Bill 

 - Where the hell is Bill? 

 - Richie starts panicking thinking maybe Bill was the one that got injured 

 - But then Bill appears from behind Richie, and he looks way more awake and dressed then Stan, he also seems really confused 

 - Suddenly it seems that Stan has come to his senses because he jumps up and just runs towards Richie 

 - ‘Richie, what are you doing up, get in the bed right now’! Stan says panicked and his breathing picks up a little 

- Richie is instantly propped up against the headboard of the bed, and is being covered up by blankets and pillows

 - He’s basically being tucked in by both Stan and Bill 

 - But Richie is not calming down and he reaches out towards Stan and grabs his wrist pulling him forward. 

 - Stan rips one hand loose to hold himself up against the headboard, but he does lean in and wraps Richie in a hug when Richie starts sobbing.

-  Richie had one arm around Stan’s middle and with his free hand he holds Bill’s

 - ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for being mad at you guys, I know you just love me. Oh god I’m so sorry.’ 

 - Stan and Bill share a worried glance 

 - ‘What’s wrong baby, just tell us what’s wrong, it’s gonna be okay.’ Stan says really softly

 - ‘Yeah sweetheart, it’s okay, we’re really sorry too.’ 

 - Stan and Bill both shuffle under the covers with Richie, wrapping both of their arms around him. 

 - Their feet are just a tangled mess

 - Richie has his head on Stan’s chest, just listening to his heartbeat, while Bill presses kisses to the back of his head. 

 - ‘I had a dream Stan got hurt so I just wanted to see he was okay, and when I came here Bill was the one that was gone, so I was panicking that Bill was the one that got hurt.’ Richie whispered, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

 - ‘We didn’t want you to be alone Rich, so me and Stan took turn staying with you. I just left to go the bathroom and when I got back you were gone and I heard you calling out to Stan. That was the only time during the night that you were alone’. Bill said softly, continuing to press kisses against his hair.

 - Yeah you dumbass, the only one that is injured is you.’ Stan said snickering, but Richie heard the fondness in his voice. 

 - Richie headed Bill snickering against the back his head.

 - Richie just shrugged and snuggled closer to his boyfriends

 - ‘Hey, for the sake of making up, does anyone want to duck my dick’? 

 - ‘Richie Tozier I swear’ 

 - ‘Sure’, Could be heard at the same time

[demytasse]

[Shinra & Shizuo] Inebriated Idiocy

     The situation required contemplation of certain moral ramifications, as brief as that consideration might last.

On one hand, alcohol was said to be the window to someone’s truest thoughts; bring about their most genuine feelings and unconscious desires. On the other hand, Shinra was an intellectual that keenly understood the human psyche; he knew better than to believe societal nonsense. In actuality, alcohol only lowered someone’s inhibitions enough to vocalise thoughts exactly as they formed; this included, but wasn’t exclusive to situational opinions, primal reactions to anything remotely sexual, and sober observations that hadn’t been sussed out.

So honestly, Shizuo letting himself into Shinra’s apartment with an odd request might have coincidentally been his own influence, the other day asking for blood and marrow samples in jest, yet again. Which the tease seemed to continue its bumble ‘round his friend’s absent mind.

    Not having much going on up there must explain why it’s still relevant.

His drunken stupour was no different than a conclusion from a simple dream; what was sorted alongside other curious tidbits gained while conscious, and that scientific proposal hadn’t been determined trash or data just yet, despite it being the same ol’ same old.

That being said…

    “What other opportunity would I have short of drugging him myself?” Shinra hummed; gathered vials and tools, bounced through his preparation. “Morally speaking it checks out if I didn’t administer the drug. After all, he came to me pre-doped! Haha." 

He glanced over at Shizuo who somehow managed a cool guy pose upon the examination table, simultaneously a blathering mess — slurring incomprehensible words and half-baked thoughts. All to which seemed on par with what Shinra normally mocked, so it assured that no bad karma, nor bad blood would arise.

    ”…it was the least I could do,“ Shizuo concluded what had been internal dialogue.

    Shinra focused on his assembly, "hmm~? I didn’t catch what you did." 

    "Drink.”

    “Then that wasn’t the least you could do, right? That would’ve been not drinking, since doing nothing is the less than something active.”

    Shizuo looked annoyed. “Meant I didn’t drink randomly, asshole. I did it ‘cause…” he spaced, pinched his nose. “…ugh, there’s a reason. Just…whatever.”

    “That’s fine, Shizuo. Your oldest friend doesn’t need an excuse for your impromptu visit. Especially since you’re granting me the honour of—”

    “Tom!” A heavy hand slammed on the table.

Shinra jumped — juggled a device, caught it by the tubular tail before it hit the floor.

    “E-ehh?” his pulse refused to steady.

    “Tom’s birthday. We went for drinks. 'Parently Vorona’s a heavyweight.”

    Shinra laughed, kind of embarrassed for his friend. “I don’t think that’s actually the term you’re going for…" 

    "She cheated.”

    “How so?”

    “She’s Russian.”

    “You’re honestly the type to play into stereotypes, Shizuo?”

    He groaned, “she shoved vodka on me. 'Don’t handle it well.”

    Of course, it’s some oddball connection, nothing offensive.

    “And she knew that?”

    “No.”

    “So it was more that you couldn’t handle the defeat!”

    The drunk grunted. “Ya wanna die?”

    Shinra waved in mercy, “no no! Let’s just move on!!”

     Though the more Shizuo spouted trash fragments, the more difficult it was for Shinra to sway his conscience that this was alright, as maybe the blood alcohol level was higher than he’d anticipated.

Every step of drawing blood was a joke to Shizuo. He laughed while his sleeve was rolled up, mocked the concentration Shinra wore while he struggled to stick the needle in; knocked the doctor’s glasses askew like a young brat that thought himself a slapstick comedian. 

    Unamused, Shinra adjusted his frames with a latex-free wrist. “Please stop.” 

    “I kinda felt bad. Told ‘im thirty was just a number,” he disrupted the blood-pull with a messy gesture.

    “Shizuo, why are you so animated?!”

    “He said he was twenty-seven! Whoops.” 

    “Yeah, you’re an idiot, we get it,” Shinra paused between a third attempt.     “Probably, haha.”

It was then that he noticed how flush his patient was; how boyish his crinkled features were, and how Shizuo’s jovial nature was too foreign to be anything but drunkenness. Blurredly he watched the other above half-mast lenses, but a thought with prescription clarity hit him in result of the study — the vision of a perturbed Celty demanding that her held out PDA be read.

    //It’s taking advantage of Shizuo!//     //!!! N-n-not in that way, p-pervert!//

It wasn’t actually Celty’s textual wisdom, but his own beratement spoken through her beautiful voice, that of course he’d long ago created for her in place of having none to speak with. It was a flurried dissuasion he wouldn’t follow without her image affixed, whether in physical or mental form.

Thus Shinra was defeated by his own imagination. 

    “Come on,” he sighed, “I’ll set you up on the couch for the night." 

    “Oh…uh, sure.”

Shizuo stumbled off the table and stabilised when a hand supported his back to send him along the path to the living room. As Shinra motioned his follow, he spotted a rolled bandage that he’d previously readied. 

His decade awaited experiment may have been a bust, but he had an idea that might give him a chuckle the next morning.

—

    The recovering drunk studied a cross at the crook of his elbow. It screamed at his memory bank in vibrant fuchsia; with consternation Shizuo recognised the bandage as he recalled swaths of highschool peers wore them after donating blood; an annual fashion accessory that Shizuo never got to sport — only ever able to bling the trash cans with broken needles.

That indicated only one thing in the present: he’d been pin-pricked by an advantageous prick, and he was hardly impressed with how Shinra tagged him without any recollection.

    "Oh! You’re up earlier than I thought you’d be,” the devil spoke at the doorway, audaciously donned his goofy grin, with a coffee mug in hand.

    “Shinra…” he growled, “wanna explain this?”

    “I’m curious to hear what you think it means! I wouldn’t be shocked if you’re either right or wrong.”

The silence grew stronger, Shizuo’s annoyance grew palpable, and for a split moment Shinra mused over the spontaneous prank.

    Perhaps I got tipsy off the atmosphere last night and made my own drunken regret…

Which he externalised as a solo ‘eep!’, a wild scramble upon slippery slipper footing; an aerial trail of coffee in his wake. 

To the carpet’s relief, the liquid was suspended mere inches above it, encapsulated in shadow. With luck, Celty formed it within a second’s notice as she was hastily passed by two scuttling idiots.

    “I’m innocent! Innocent, I swear!”

    “Like hell ya are!”

Celty puffed out air too exhausted for the early hours. 

    At least it’s spilt coffee and not blood spill.

—

    It took a few laps around the apartment for the duo to wind up on opposite couches in a truce. Celty, their moderator, sat close at Shinra’s side to prevent a young death.

    “You see, Shizuo, as you claimed you were in full control of your faculties, so I kindly decided to fulfill your request.” Shinra rubbed at a wallop injury at his crown. “which seemed a fair assumption since you weren’t acting any less intelligible than usual." 

He was forced to squint while Celty futzed with the bent plastic and metal of his glasses. 

    “Lucky you, I’m perceptive enough to notice little details which proved that you were, in fact, inebriated. I stopped before I collected any samples.”

Whether or not Shizuo’s grunt was an invitation for the rest of the schpeel, or if it was an indignant ‘fuck off’ made no difference.     “Feel free to leave a tip for my better judgement. I know it’s not customary for doctor visits, but I’m never too humble to decline monetary praise.”

A shadow placed glasses back on his nose, but he immediately let them slip back down when a glare across the table was in clear view. The hangover effect must of have worked mental lapses between Shizuo’s comprehension of insults, thus he remained in a slump with exhausted shadows below his cold eyes.

    "Yanno, that better be the treatment you give Celty, or so help me…”

    “A-ah, she can’t get inebriated in the first place, or drink for that matter—”

    “So you’d take advantage of her if she could??”

    “No, no! Never! If anything I want her to reveal her own desires to have me sweep her into fits of romance…” he darted his eyes from Shizuo’s disgust.

    ”…buuut I better let that topic be laid to rest.“

—

    "Honestly…I almost wish he’d just done it.”

    //Really?//

    Shizuo nodded in between takes of smoke, “maybe it’s about time I figure out what makes me…me. You know, so I can control myself better…or something.”

    //That’s a noble thing to do, Shizuo…//

He shook his head, wasted half of his cigarette when he extinguished it on the deck railing before he brushed ash into his hand.

    //Maybe do it when you’re sober, though. That way you can feel good about the decision to better yourself and not have it be a drunken decision you accept.//

    “You know,” he smiled, “I like that.”

It wasn’t odd that he agreed with Celty, it was that he wanted his abnormality to be experimented on by his dysfunctional friend; that he was finally ready to face the facts and learn how to work with his condition. Despite that realisation, it was best to ask Shinra with sobriety.

    “Might make him pony up the cash for my blood, though. It’s a hot commodity, right?”

Celty chuckled with a bob of her shoulders.

—

    “And that’s why I always trust my doctor’s instincts over Shizuo. In this case, causality didn’t result in my casualty and I can rest in peace standing six-feet above ground and not under it! Hmm…I should pay respects at the nearest shrine for good measure.

    “At anyrate, I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to showcase Celty’s handiwork of my repaired glasses, a token of her dedication and love for all to appreciate! Even if they’re imperfect, they’re perfect to me. So let’s think of this as a public service announcement, kids: don’t drink and make hasty decisions!”

—

AN: Shinra breaking the fourth wall is one of my favourite things; it’s delightful. (O´▽`o)~♡

Based on one of the headcanons I wrote for Shizuo in a character meme, except it’s a little goofier than when I wrote the HC. Probably because I made it primarily from Shinra’s perspective. \(=~=)/ Thank you, @monopsys for the inspiration to actually write this!

[cverture-a]

Date #3 | @residuex

“I want to know everything about you.” Beth admitted, though hoped she wasn’t coming on too strong. She couldn’t help that since they had first met serendipitously, her curiosity had grown in immense fashion.  The problem was further exacerbated by the rate at which they had been making plans to see one another as of late. They’d watched the sky together into the early hours of the night; had partaken in conversation over dinner that he made them before watching a movie she had insisted he could not prolong further; most recently they’d met for coffee, lingering longer in the cafe than the average casual get together. Eventually they had left the welcoming scent of baked goods and coffee beans in favor for a walk throughout Central Park, strolling slowly through the brisk fall air as if they both had been trying to stop time. Before either of them had realized, their eyes found the setting sun over the Central Park Reservoir.

It had only been scarcely a week since they had last been together, their time away spent supplemented with the game of “20 questions” they had begun weeks ago over text messaging; by now they surely had gone above and beyond game requirements,  yet the more she learned the more she felt the need to know about this man that had made a comfortable home in her mind: she was always thinking about him, even when she had no intentions of such. It seemed there was a lot already that reminded her of him.

Ethan made her feel good, and in the purest sense of the word. He radiated a positive light that she had previously only briefly considered as something she could require. Each time they kissed, Beth was certain her knees would turn to jelly and cause her body to collapse in on itself - though a faint voice in her mind told her that even if she were to lose her footing, the last place she would end up was on the ground. Not while he was around.

Earlier in the week she had, though somewhat hesitantly due to a strange fear of rejection, extended an invitation for him to visit her at home - under the guise that they could spend hours laughing at old episodes of America’s Funniest Videos, a cache of which had been recently added to Netflix. In truth, Beth didn’t care much what they did - she only wanted to offer up her time, and hoped he would allow her some of his own in return.

The late afternoon sky had quickly turned shades darker out on the streets of New York, though still lit with ever present street lights. As hours passed with their attention (truly only half) on the television, kernels of popcorn strewn about from a battle they’d had at one point during the marathon. Half-gone bottles of water rested ahead of them on the coffee table, and other than the glow through her windows and from the television, lighting was dim; comfortable.

It’s while Netflix is queuing up the next episode that the words are spoken; head turning to offer a shy glance to the man that sat beside her on the couch. Beth herself was seated with her feet tucked comfortably under her, knees bent and facing him as her elbow provided leverage against the rear cushion - though Ethan was sitting like an actual human being, his back aligned properly with the rear cushion, as was intended by the manufacturer. He had one leg resting on the knee of his other, hand relaxing casually at his ankle. Following the statement, her glance was matched; though a subtle expression of bewilderment caused her smile to stretch thinly before she began to explain.

“Not in like, a serial-killer-i’m-gonna-stalk-you-and-kill-everyone-you-love-because-if-i-can’t-have-you- nobody-will kind of way.” Smooth, Johanssen.“It’s just that I sometimes find myself thinking about you. Wondering. Little things, like your favorite food. Or what your favorite time of day - or, right now, how crazy you think I am.” A nervous laugh escaped briefly parted lips before they once again formed a thin line, her hand fumbling as it entangled with its other. It couldn’t be hastened, the nerves nor the notion that perhaps she was beginning to go insane. It did, however,  help to hear his chuckle of amusement from her string of words. Beth was thankful that at least she was entertaining, if nothing else.

“Those are bad examples, “ she began again, rambling away as if to offer up a better explanation. “I’ve never really wondered what your favorite time of day is. What I really mean to say is that I hope our game of twenty questions never has to end. Those text messages are often the best part of my day.” Except when she was actually able to see him, though she felt this may have been obvious without having to be so blatantly admitted. “I don’t know where all of this is coming from, and I apparently cannot stop talking.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at herself, though became flustered as she stole another glance and met his eyes. The words ceased, then. They’d continue to fail if she tried to explain the way her heart began to pound, how her palms began to sweat and her mind was scarce of thought that pertained to anything but Ethan Andrews. It surprised her, the sudden need to communicate - and more specifically so, the need to communicate her emotions.

“Did you know that I started to develop software to help establish the idea of a ‘smart home?’” Beth didn’t mind changing the topic. She had begun to feel as though she had three heads, unsure of the level of vulnerability she was revealing to him - unsure if she would only end up making a fool of herself. “I headed up a software start-up with that very intention. My team and I coded various applications that most people are pretty familiar with. You know Alexa? Amazon’s cloud service? My company invented the fundamental code that allows her to turn lights off in a home, or change the temperature without having to do anything but speak.”

She was proud, sure. Yet nothing made Beth Johanssen more proud than her accomplishments of the ARES mission; how she had birthed the basic coding systems that operated Hermes, which would shuttle astronauts for missions to come to and from Mars. She understood it better than the back of her own hand, and sometimes she still found herself sifting through memorized sequences in her mind in order to further better the ship’s workings. As time passed, some algorithms became redundant or obsolete, and it had been her job to cultivate the best working operating system available.

“Selling the start-up had been easy, but saying goodbye to Hermes? That was hard.”

⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛

She didn’t know what time it was - nor did she particularly care to know it,  because as the moments had passed they settled into more comfortable positions on the couch. Beth’s knees were pulled to her chest and he was hunched forward, closer to where Ethan sat, turned with full attention to the woman who’d spent three years in space. Their heads were nestled close together against the shared back cushion of the couch and she could scarcely stand refraining from reaching out to hold her palm to the side of his face, or to allow her fingers to join with his. It was foreign to her, the urgency to feel such subtle affection. Even more so was the desire to give it - and yet the longer she sat looking at him, the stronger the feeling became.

“There are so many stories I could tell you,” she began again, after the silence had hung in the air between them. It had not felt awkward, though she noted that it had been strange that even in silence, being with Ethan felt right.

It was only another hour later that she caught herself yawning in the middle of explaining one of the many training exercise she and the rest of the crew had to complete before launch, keeping the conversation flowing with tidbits of dialogue that had mostly been from Martinez or Watney; the comedians of the crew — Or so they both thought. Beth was capable of staying awake for hours - often days - at time, but she realized that while she had that ability, not everyone was an insomniac like her; not everyone was often afraid to fall asleep. Hesitantly, she sat up in attention before rising,  her feet planted firmly on the coolness of her hardwood floor. Her sleepy doe eyes peered down at him, a smile offered in assurance before she spoke with further invitation.

“Come to bed?”

⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛

The sleep that they did have were mere spans of thirty minutes at a time wedged between conversations ranging from topic to topic; stories they’d shared with one another, more questions asked and answered. She would ask about his days teaching and in return offer up tales of her time off-planet. They’d offer up comment when deemed necessary, a chuckle here are there or the occasional hint that they were still awake. Beth had been happy when she whispered in question if he had fallen asleep and received no answer, her eyes glancing beside her at the man whose eyes were closed. He looked peaceful, and for a moment she committed the shadows on his face to her memory. Soon enough, he had woken again and they had proceeded with drowsy discussion.  In the moments that became more serious, Beth found herself inching closer to where he lay beside her; a silent expression of thanks for him being there - that he was someone she could be happy to share things with - including her bed. And unexpectedly, her heart.

Eventually they had both drifted off, Beth having burrowed herself in closer to his chest so that her face was almost pressed tightly to the fabric of his shirt. As if he were waiting for permission to do so, she moved her hand to guide his arm - allowing it to drape over her small frame - his hand respectfully finding it’s place on her back. Before succumbing to slumber, she would later recall a feeling of relief wash over her; could anything truly  ever be this good again?

⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛

”Ta-daaaaaa, it’s an Eggo Triple Decker Extravaganza!” On the plate revealed three toasted Eggo waffles, between each layer was whipped cream and assorted types of Halloween candy; mostly chocolates such as Hershey kisses and Reese's pieces, but there were gummy worms hidden beneath the fluffy clouds of white. Beth had been given the idea from the recent release of the second season of Stranger Things, having quickly decided that she wanted to make the treat herself; it was simple enough, she thought, that not even she could mess it up.

“I don’t exactly expect you to eat this because it’s an obscene amount of sugar, but I did manage to warm up a few croissants.” It was important to note her words: warm up. Not for a second was Beth claiming to have actually baked the buttery, flaked rolls herself, but rather she had them purchased them the day before - with other breakfast trappings: orange juice and various fresh fruit she had found at the market - in preparation for a morning she was hoping she would be able to share with him. She had promised him breakfast after all, and so breakfast indeed he would have.

“Here we are again,” Beth’s eyes found him then, a wide and warm smile spread across her features. “In my kitchen, drinking coffee. Eating breakfast.” It was obvious that she was referring to the first morning they had known one another - she had found him making breakfast in the very same spot she stood in now. Though the previous experience had been much more tense; awkward, given that they hadn’t technically known one another then. Life was funny, sometimes. It was comical to reflect back on it now and Beth couldn’t stop herself from extending upon her tippy-toes, her hand resting upon his arm to steady her balance, to place a gentle kiss on the side of his face - and another quickly against the corner of his lips. “I’m really glad you’re here, Ethan.”

[beebeecee]

Captain Taeil (???)

@alittlebitblockbbias: Can someone anyone make me a fic of Taeil the sea captain of his little boat out on the sea shirtless being cool or cute or hot whatever you want it’s your fic. I just need a story about shirtless Taeil swimming or fishing and just hanging out on a boat. This whole fandom needs this so please be the chosen one!

Your wish is my command ~  I don’t think this needs any particular warnings, but it’s like 2800 words. Whoops.. (This ended up being dialogue heavy because the members tease each other, but it’s OT7 so??)

...

TAEIL!!! We finally have a break in our schedule can we go and take that trip now that you bought your new boat?? :)

Taeil’s phone vibrates beside him, he smiles as Jihoon’s name flashes across the screen.

Great idea! I’ll message the guys and see if they want to come with us 

...

“Minhyuk, are you seriously not packed yet? We’re supposed to be leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh relax, I’ll be ready.”

“You better be. I swear if I have to listen to Jiho complain about it for the next month I’ll just let him leave you on the side of the road somewhere.”

“Oh haha, very funny, Ukwon. Don’t quit your day job, I’m not sure being a comedian will be a good career choice for you,” Minhyuk retorted, smiling before getting promptly punched in the arm for the unwanted commentary. “Ow.. was that necessary?”

“You know I’m damn well funny, I could be a comedian if I wanted,” Ukwon chuckled.

Ukwon planned to crash at Minhyuk’s place overnight so that there were less places to stop in the morning. Jiho was nice enough to offer to drive, so he thought it would be easier to just go to Minhyuk’s since it was closer anyway. It also gave them a chance to practice their dance stage for the showcase next month. Minhyuk’s minimalist style made it easy to move things around for practice space. This was very different from Ukwon’s place that first required they find somewhere to keep the dog, so they would be out of the way.

At the unholy hour of five in the morning, both boys were woken up by the pleasant sounds of birds chirping … which were being entirely drowned out by their members’ antics.

Jihoon and Jiho barged through the front door, blowing an air horn outside of both rooms. “Rise and shine boys, it’s trip time!” Jihoon laughed at Jiho’s screams.

Why did I give them a key again? Minhyuk mumbled to himself.

The two fumbled around in the kitchen giving the guys a few minutes to crawl out of their rooms.

Ukwon was the first to get up, begrudgingly throwing on some cut off jean shorts, an obscure band t-shirt, and his favourite baseball hat on backwards as he shuffled out in search of coffee. Jiho had a cup held out in front of him as Ukwon trudged over to take it and seek refuge on the couch. Unfortunately for Minhyuk, he had yet to emerge.

Jihoon skipped over to his room and yelled at him.

“Are you decent? I’m coming in!”

There was no answer. 

“Minhyuk?” Jihoon pushed again.

“No, go away it’s too early.”

“Why, do you have a lady in there or something?” Jihoon giggled, briefly pausing. What if he did have a lady in there? Jihoon waited for a response.

“No I just need to-“ Minhyuk trailed off.  

“I told you what time we were leaving,” Jiho yelled over as Jihoon was cracking open the door. “It’s not my fault you can’t listen.”

“I told you what time we were leaving” Minhyuk repeated, mocking Jiho.

“Really?” Jihoon giggled, climbing on top of him.

Minhyuk groaned. “Get off of me. No. What are you do – oh my god. That’s disgusting!”

After listening to the drama, Ukwon petered over to Minhyuk’s door to see what was going on. Before he could ask, he started laughing. Jiho quickly ran over to see what Ukwon was laughing at, almost spitting out his own coffee after seeing the boys.

“As if you just put your wet finger in my ear, what the fuck?” Minhyuk groaned, punching Jihoon in the shoulder.

Before the two could get into things any further, Ukwon stepped in to remind them that they had to sit in a car together directly following this.

“You’re right, Ukwon. You can sit shotgun because these two will annoy me.” Jiho laughed.

There was an awkward pause as the boys waited for Minhyuk to crawl out from under his several layers of blankets.

“Okay, why are you still not getting up?” Jiho said, raising his eyebrow.

“Ten bucks says Jihoon just sat on a man that is not wearing any boxers.” Ukwon said, pointing to the blanket Minhyuk was holding against himself.

“Are you seriously not wearing anything?” Jiho questioned.

“Way to expose me, Ukwon.” Minhyuk said, pulling the blanket closer to himself.

“We lived with you, I unfortunately remember you don’t like clothes. If I wanted to expose you, I’d do this!” Ukwon said as he ripped the blanket from Minhyuk’s hand and fled out of the room howling.

“Great, I’m blind.” Jiho turned toward the door, with Jihoon following suit.

…

“Is that all of it?” Ukwon questioned, handing Jiho another bag.

“Shit I hope so or we’ll never get out of here.”

“Can you two idiots hurry up and just get in the car? If we don’t leave soon I’m going back to bed,” said Minhyuk.

“Fine, but I hope if we forget anything, it’s yours” Jiho said, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“I call first dibs on the aux cord” Ukwon chirped, breaking the tension.

“No fucking way. You listen to the weirdest shit,” Minhyuk gestured to Ukwon’s t-shirt.

“Yeah, I have to go with Minhyuk on this one, your music taste is really strange” Jihoon agreed.

“Fine, but I’m not listening to Nickleback so don’t torture me like last time.” Ukwon snapped back.

…

“Are we almost there? I want to see Taeil!” Jihoon whined.

“What about Jaehyo and Kyung?” Minhyuk asked, laughing at how antsy Jihoon had become. He was almost bouncing in his seat, peering out the window.

“I want to see them too, but I haven’t seen Taeil in almost 5 days.” Jihoon said, checking his phone for what had to be the tenth time in the last couple minutes.

The boys were meeting Taeil, Jaehyo and Kyung at the marina where Taeil kept his boat. They pulled up to the entrance, having to use a code to gain access. The matte black gates slowly retracted into the brick wall, and Jiho began to head down the long driveway. All down the sides there were aged willow trees that hung over the path, blocking the view. They did provide a space for a lot of birds to hang out, Jihoon watched as a duck flew along side the car. No wonder Jaehyo loves this place, he thought. 

“Wow, is that the marina?” Ukwon piped up as they came around the last bend.

The marina’s main building spanned several thousand square feet, with giant potted plants placed purposely on either side of the door’s arch. The entire building was situated only meters away from the water, making the boys stop conversation all together to take in the sight. To the left of the monstrous building were the docks where luxury boat after boat were parked next to each other. 

“And you guys think I’m frivolous,” Jiho mumbled under his breath.

“Isn’t that Jaehyo and Kyung?!” Jihoon screamed, trying to open the door before Jiho could even get properly stopped.

He parked just outside of the door, letting the boys get out and meet up with the others.

All of the members hadn’t been together in a couple weeks as they had a break in their schedule, so they were busy catching up. Well, that is besides Taeil and Jihoon. Taeil wouldn’t be able to escape him even if he wanted to.

Jaehyo and Kyung came over to say hi to everyone, but were intercepted by the bouncy Jihoon. Before they went to greet the others, Minhyuk had requested that Ukwon act as his personal photographer so that he could update his SNS. Ukwon laughed, obliging in his self-indulgent need to take pictures in front of anything remotely aesthetic.

“How was the drive?” Jaehyo asked, walking up to the car window.

“Surprisingly not too bad, except I almost had to get the guys to duct tape Jihoon’s mouth shut.” He laughed, pointing to an excited Jihoon who was now after Kyung. “He wouldn’t stop talking about Taeil the entire time, it’s like he’s having withdrawals or something.”

You could hear Kyung screaming in the distance while trying to avoid kisses, “What did you guys feed him?!”

Jaehyo nodded, “something about that doesn’t surprise me”.

“You look like you’re ready to go out already. We should probably get Taeil to show us where to bring everything” Jiho said, pausing. “Where is he anyway?”

“Oh, he’s on the boat getting set up, but said that Jihoonie texted him saying you guys were here so we came out to get you.”

“What’s going on?” Ukwon popped up.

“Hey Kwonnie, how are you?” Jaehyo asked smiling.

“Great! I’m excited to get out and go swimming. Sunhye’s visiting her parents all weekend too so I don’t have to worry.” Ukwon paused, “did you bring your fishing gear?”

“Of course. I got some new lures I’m hoping to test out too. What were you doing with Minhyuk?”

“Oh him? Instagram.” Ukwon sighed.

“Enough said,”Jaehyo laughed, being able to relate to Ukwon’s photography pain.

Before the two were able to catch up any further they were interrupted by Jihoon’s screams as Taeil rounded the corner. A little worried about the commotion, Taeil stepped back a few feet on the walkway, not sure if he was going to be hugged or tackled by the ball of excitement barreling toward him.

“Poor Taeil,” Minhyuk laughed, walking over to the car.

“Poor Taeil? I just spent the last 5 minutes running away from him and none of you did anything to help me.” Kyung whined, joining the circle.

“Is Taeil shirtless?” Ukwon asked, pointing toward the small man being picked up and swung around by Jihoon.

“Yeah, that’s pretty usual for him here actually” Jaehyo replied.

“Something about the boat must give him the confidence, but any time I’ve been out with him on the boat he hasn’t worn one,” Kyung added.

Taeil finally contained Jihoon enough to join the others at Jiho’s window.

“Hey guys, glad you made it. Want to grab your stuff and I’ll show you my new baby?” He chuckled, gesturing to the docks.

The seven of them scrambled to collect everything, Jiho showing off by taking one of the coolers himself, while Minhyuk and Kyung struggled to coordinate on either side of the other.

Taeil led them along the docks, down to the other end where his new boat was sitting. The boat was shining in the sun, with the red stripe down the side reflecting on the calm water. Scrawled across the side was the words “Dime Girl” in thick white lettering.

“You guys are going to love her,” Taeil beamed, “there’s so much seating on the top level and the lower deck has a full kitchen and dining space in the one end and-”

“Gaaahhhh, Taeil is so cool” Jihoon chimed in, then continuing to make a series of inaudible noises.

The guys laughed at Jihoon’s excitement and started to bring their things on board.

…

“We’re about 5 minutes away from the cove,” Taeil yelled out to the boys.

“It’s a really nice spot,” Jaehyo said to the guys who were sat on the bow. “The fishing is great in the morning here too.”

Jaehyo and Kyung got up to go help Taeil anchor the boat, leaving the others to chat among themselves. Excited about being close to their final destination, Ukwon and Jihoon raced down to the lower deck to get changed into swimwear.

Taeil appeared from behind the captain’s chair once the ship was anchored in place; his inked skin glowing in the sunlight. Minhyuk seemed particularly fascinated with what was on his shoulder.

“Taeil, did you get a new tattoo recently?” He asked, snickering to himself.

“Not exactly. Someone thinks he’s hilarious,” he sighed, pointing to the words ‘Kyung was here’ written on the petals of a poorly-drawn flower. “It’s henna.”

Kyung and Jaehyo had just gotten out the water toys and laid them out on the deck of the boat when the others had come over to see what they were up to.

“Taeil, what are you looking at?” Kyung questioned, backing away from him.

“I was just reminded of your little prank,” Taeil said, stalking closer.

“Prank what prank? W-What did I-?” He stammered, trying to backpedal himself out of trouble. Before he was able to finish his sentence, Taeil charged at him full speed knocking Kyung and himself over the edge of the boat and the two splashed into the water. 

Looking over the side of the boat, the boys couldn’t contain themselves. Jiho was almost bent over in tears. “I can’t.. believe.. Taeil.. tackled him.. off of the side of the boat” he managed to say in between bursts of laughter.

A few seconds later, Taeil emerged to the surface laughing. He shook his head before pushing back his slick black hair and wiping the water from his eyes. Droplets collected on his bare shoulders, with little waves lapping at the back of his neck every so often, intermittently exposing his tattoos. From the surface his upper bodies was just a myriad of colours that was contrasted with the bright blue that stretched across much of the horizon.

Meanwhile, when Kyung surfaced he was blinded by his shaggy hair hanging in his face, gasping for air as he was still in shock that Taeil had tackled him to begin with.

Did that really just happen? He thought to himself.

Kyung dipped his head into the water to better manage his hair situation, pushing it back and out of his face.

“I had my phone in my pocket Taeil, you suck” he pouted, paddling over to the back of the boat. Taeil was close behind him.

“You wrote your own name on my shoulder and it’s going to be there for weeks. I have no sympathy” Taeil glared at him.

“Okay, maybe I kind of deserved that” Kyung admitted, grabbing a hold of the ladder and pulling himself out. Kyung’s once loose clothing clung to his body, hugging every curve as the water drained off of him. Grinning, he flicked water toward Jaehyo and Jiho.

“Don’t make me send you back in,” Jiho threatened him.

“Yeah, I’m sure you want to go swimming in your Gucci shirt,” Jaehyo teased.

Taeil soon followed suit and pulled himself out of the water, the droplets glistening on his upper body. The sun reflected off of his skin almost perfectly, making the coloured art appear brighter. Time seemed to stand still as each muscle in his arms protruded when he grabbed the hand rails on either side of the steps. The black swim trunks he was wearing didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, but he was comfortable. Among his members that he’s known for so many years, he was as confident as he would have been if he was out on the water himself as he often ventured. Taeil loved going out on his boat. There is something so freeing about having the sun warm his skin and the wind running through his hair as he palmed the wheel. Taeil smiled as he thought about it. He was finally able to be shirtless with all of his members around without a stylist trying to put him in another oversized sweater.

“Taeil looks like a model” came a giddy, but deep voice. Jihoon bounced over to Taeil grinning, complementing him on how much muscle he had gained from spending so much time in the gym.

The boys were excited to have some time to themselves without all of the staff constantly running around and fidgeting with each particular strand of hair, or putting an extra layer of powder on their face. There was a mutual feeling of contentment as they settled into the first activities of the weekend. Zico and Kyung soon found themselves basking in the sunshine on some loungers on the water talking about girls, while Minhyuk was firm that he would learn how to fish from Jaehyo. It would surely lead to a great Instagram post if nothing else, he thought.

However, perhaps most comical is that Jihoon had somehow recruited both Ukwon and Taeil to play with a beach ball in the water with him. The game continued on for awhile until Taeil’s spike toward Jihoon was a little too aggressive and it hit Jiho square in the face. Nothing could contain Kyung’s laughter as he fell out of his lounger after witnessing the ball bounce off of Jiho’s nose. The event sent Ukwon into hysterics and soon the others too, even the fishing duo were cracking up as they watched what happened from above.

A feeling of calm rushed over Taeil as he realized they were all really getting to spend some quality vacation time together.  [Yes, It’s kind of a cheesy ending, fight me.]

[darkhymns-fic]

Murder with a Side of Lies (Ch. 7)

Undyne is taking the lead on the case, and Mettaton reveals his final witness.

Will she finally be able to face up to her past?

Fandom: Undertale Characters: Undyne, Mettaton, Sans, Asgore Dreemur, Papyrus, Alphys Rating: PG Chapters: 7/8 Mirror Links: AO3, FF.net Notes: The sequel to Kidnappings in the Early Evening by Sky. A fusion of detective noir fiction and courtroom drama! All stories, art, etc., related to this main story will be under the tag #undertale noir. (chrono)

Suggested reading music.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Dealing with Family

First things first. Let’s get one thing straight. This is Undyne’s personal notepad, and you DO NOT have permission to read this. That means you, Papyrus! Even you, Alphys! NO ONE is allowed to read this but me.

I mean it. Final warning. I don’t care if you’re a random passerby who found this page somehow, or even if you’re from a different universe reading somewhere you think you’re safe! If you read this, I will find you and pound you into oblivion!!!

Yeah.

Yeah, those warnings probably scared everyone off by now.

I need to write my feelings down. No matter how stupid or gushy or mushy it sounds, that’s what I have to do. I’ve been running away from my thoughts and my feelings for too long. It’s time I faced what’s been bothering me. I am going to write down how I feel NO MATTER WHAT! No lying to myself! If I want to get stronger, I have to do this.

Seriously, if anyone is reading this, I really will pound you, got it?! Not the ‘haha how funny’ kind of pound either. The kind of pound that leaves you six feet under the ground!

Hmm. That rhymed. Nice. Well, whatever.

.

.

.

The night spent at Alphys’ was great. It felt like old times again, not that it was even that long ago. We laughed and ate terrible pasta and watched TV. Like old times, too, there was that tight anxiousness that lay at the pit of my stomach. A little worse than usual, sure, but I think I hid it well.

I left early in the morning while they were sleeping. No car today, I had to leave that with Papyrus. I wasn’t sure if The Family would really come after Alphys, but I know they had seen her note. I wasn’t sure what The Family was capable of anymore. There were too many unknowns and I-don’t-knows when it came to them now.

Fortunately, I know I can trust Papyrus. Now that I got it in his head to hightail it out of there at the first sign of trouble, I’m certain they’ll be okay, no matter what happens.

Walking through the streets, though, that gave me too much time to think. Worse yet? It stopped raining. Of all the days! I had to take one of my cigarettes to soothe my nerves. The lack of rain felt like an omen, but I knew that was all in my head.

I’ll never quite understand how anyone can dislike the rain. Now that it was gone, the city felt so quiet. Musty yellow rays of sun shone down in my eye, practically blinding me at every turn. Without the rain, the world just looked damp and old. Gross stale puddles from the night before remained on the sidewalk, accumulating whatever filth was left instead of getting washed away.

Ngah! Enough talk of the weather! It doesn’t matter, and I don’t care if it’s raining frogs and asteroids!

I should use this time to go over the case.

My top suspect should be pretty obvious at this point. I don’t know for sure, but it seems everything is pointing towards him again. Could it be another framing? I wasn’t so sure.  The golden petal, the three hot marks on the garbage container and, last but not least, the glass shard.

At the time, last night, I didn’t think of what it could be. A shard pulsing with magic, felt like electricity. What else could it be used for? I’ve never paid much attention to Alphys’ work place, but I’ve seen jars like it before.

I’m certain I knew what the jars would have been for. It wasn’t a nice thought. I don’t feel like writing that one down.

Still, this wasn’t exactly a dusty knife with prints belonging to the killer. None of this junk was a guaranteed win. But, I think I can appeal to him. I hope I can.

Hm. If he even shows up. Guess if he doesn’t, I could always call him to the stand, right? That’s a thing lawyers do? Ngah, what did I get myself into?!

No sense in worrying now. Before I had realized it, I had made it to the courthouse. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty. Weakness, I know. It’s best I admit to it rather than ignore it, then maybe I can overcome these feelings.

The lobby was jam packed again with monsters, chattering and gossiping away at how this dramatic mystery might end. Most assumed Catty did it, still. 

Right, Catty. I’ll be honest, I mostly forgot about her. A little cruel, I suppose, but I have bigger fish to fry. That didn’t come out how I meant it to.

“Oh! Like, hey! Like! Helloooo!” Catty purred, calling me over across the way.

Since I’m being honest, I’ll admit one more thing. I wasn’t a fan of Catty. Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute in a literal trashy way, but god the way she talks.

“Um, helloooo?!” Catty tried again, sounding mildly annoyed and confused at the same time. “Like, detective or lawyer lady, or whatever!! I’m, like, over here!”

I sighed. Fine, I guess I should go talk to her. “Yeah?” I asked through a puff of smoke.

Her yellow feline eyes glanced over me, looking side to side. “Um, like, where’s the bone guy? He didn’t, like, totally flake out on me, did he? Oh. My. God! That would be so totally lame!”

I could tell she was going to keep going on and on about it.

“He’s working on your case outside the courtroom,” I lied, stopping her endless banter. “Papyrus would never flake on anyone, trust me. I’ll be defending you.” I couldn’t help but show a little anger in my voice. I didn’t like the accusatory tone she held towards Papyrus.

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh. Like, okaaay, I guess.”

I didn’t feel the need to say anything else to her. She stared up at me, expecting something.

“Um, like, you must be feeling totally confident, right?” Catty asked with a wave of a paw, her chains jingling. “Yesterday you guys, like, totally owned!! Like, when Mettaton was all like--”

“Yeah, I feel confident,” I lied again. Think she saw through that one. I wasn’t exactly in a chipper mood. Damn, already need another smoke.

Catty frowned. “Well, I, like, totally believe in you!” Her voice strained. She was lying, too. I didn’t blame her. I knew I wasn’t instilling much confidence. I’d protect her though, even if I didn’t like her. No one deserves to have a murder unjustly pinned on them.

“Yeah,” was all I said back.

No point in standing around all awkward like. I gave her a quick wave and made my way back into the courtroom, wanting to have some time to prepare, and even more wanting to get away from her and the others.

Ugh.

I could already feel another headache coming on. The courtroom appeared to have gone under some significant repairs overnight. I think it looked better in ruins over what they turned it into now.

Desks were replaced by ‘stylish’ Mettaton brand desks. A sickening chrome mixed with black and pink stripes across. Any cracks or holes in the wall from the previous day were hastily covered by Mettaton posters advertising even more of his terrible shows. There was even one advertising this very case! Why was he advertising this case in the actual case? How did that make sense!?

Ngah, best not to lose my cool over something so stupid.

The witness stand was just a flat-out stage now. More stage lights could be found scattered throughout. I even spotted a net holding various Mettaton colored balloons over the prosecution’s desk. There wasn’t a single balloon over my head. The thought that I could win never even crossed his mind. What was once a decent attempt at a serious courtroom was made into a complete mockery by that egomaniac, Mettaton.

“Places, places everyone! ;)” A sweat-filled voice rang through the building. “Court will soon be in session! Take your seats! Remember to buy your M.T.T. Brand Court Snacks™ before the trial begins and not after! ;)”

Looks like this whole court business is turning out to be quite lucrative to everyone involved.

Bustling into their seats up on the gallery, I noted our oh-so-wonderful judge had magically appeared at his seat. As if he was always there. Boy, that joke certainly didn’t get old. We flexed for the judge, signaling the “show” was starting. I wasn’t really into it this time.

“hey,” Sans said, the light in his eyes staring at me hard. “where’s my bro?” If it weren’t for that grin, I’d say he sounded a little critical there.

He must’ve felt pretty powerful up there, looking down on me.

“He’s busy,” I said.

It was so satisfying watching those eyes of his flicker. A moment of worry. That mysterious (dangerous even) look defeated so quickly. I admit, I felt a little bad using Papyrus to mess with his brother, but I needed this.

“that so,” Sans replied, unhappy, yet still smiling. Like usual. “well, hope it doesn’t get too gorey in here without him.” Wink.

Ngah! That stupid skeleton! Cruel like usual, too.  Fine, I deserved that!

I clenched my fists in a clear reaction to his ‘joke.’ My best plan of action was to simply ignore him. Nothing a comedian can’t stand more than a silent audience.

Speaking of annoying monsters, it looked like Mettaton was late again. ‘Fashionably late’ I’m sure. I sighed in frustration. I could feel the black puffs of smoke rising through my clenched fangs. How late is fashionably late anyw-

“OOOOOHHHHH YEEEESSSSSSS!!!!” 

Guess that explains that.

The metal prosecutor burst through the same wall as last time, only this time he simply ripped through a poster of himself. It wasn’t as dramatic without the debris, and it certainly wasn’t as interesting a second time.

Of course, the crowd ate it up though. Cheering, clapping, screaming his name. What did people see in that guy? He posed and bowed (somehow) in that boxy body of his, stage lights flooding and dancing around his glittering form.

“Sorry to keep you all waiting, my darlings!” His voice buzzed through a microphone charismatically.

He wasn’t sorry at all.

Once the applause finally started to die down, Mettaton turned to face me across the room. Yellow and red lights blinked in thought. “My my! Weren’t there two loser defense attorneys going against me before?” His voice was so genuine, I truly believed he forgot already. “What happened to the bony one? Did he realize he couldn’t face my fabulous façade? Run away scared?”

My blood was boiling. It was one thing to insult me, but another entirely to insult Papyrus. I opened my fangs, ready to retort.

“watch it, metts,” Sans said cooly. Even though it was breathed out like a lazy sigh, it came out as more of a threat than even I could have mustered myself.

A tiny recoil of his hand, something Mettaton wasn’t used to. “My apologies, your honor! I’ll be sure to save my witty remarks for the brute from now on!”

Sans’ eyes returned, smile wide and cheerful. “go nuts.”

That was at least one thing I could respect Sans for. His love for Papyrus. I’d receive no such special treatment, but I didn’t need it or want it.

“Well!” Mettaton cooed, rebooting his acting abilities. “It matters not who I’d go against anyway!” With a dramatic motion, he reached into a compartment in his body and pulled out a delicate tea cup. “My next witness will prove Cannibal Catty is guilty to a tea!”

“nice.”

Just like that, Mettaton was back in good graces with Sans. While even I was mildly impressed, I could only feel that anxious weight in the pit of my stomach again, knowing what it meant. Could I really do this?

“Without further ado, I present to you, As--- Drem—[The writing blurs here] !!!”

Him. I knew it.

Tray in hand, teapot and teacups at the ready, the goat monster made his way up to the witness stand warmly. He still wore his usual pinstripe suit, signifying his role as leader of the group, The Family. “Thank you, you are too kind, Mr. Ton.”

Mettaton ignored the mispronunciation, most likely used to it by now after their many dealings together. “Oh, darling! You don’t praise me enough!” The robot laughed mechanically. “But, sadly, this trial isn’t completely about me!” Motioning his hand to the tray, Mettaton asked, “What have you got there?”

He smiled again. So sincere. So caring. It sent a stake through my heart. My throat wrenched just at the sight. “I’ve brought tea for you all,” he said. “It’s been quite a lively case, and the three of you deserve a reward for working so hard.”

Of course, he’d bring tea. When hasn’t he offered tea?! Why didn’t I expect this?! I was unprepared. Foolish.

He lumbered gently to each desk, placing a steaming cup delicately down before Sans and Mettaton. He had to reach up ever so slightly to reach Sans, but he didn’t mind. I couldn’t read the judge’s expression. Didn’t have time, anyway. My heart was pounding. He saved me for last.

“Howdy, Undyne,” he greeted quietly, his massive form looming over me. His smile was never fake, never a lie, yet it strained all the same. “It’s your favorite. Scalding hot, too, just how you like it.” His paw quivered ever so slightly as he placed the drink before me.

I said nothing. Couldn’t say anything. He didn’t mind. Never did. He went back to the witness stage, placing the tea set away with a careful clattering.

Let’s get this over with.

I took a gulp of the tea. Suddenly I’m flooded with memories. Sweet, warm memories, filled with honey. Never a foul taste, never a foul memory. Yet, I still suffocated. I drowned in those happy times. There was no escaping it, no room for movement. I was buried deep below the earth, warm laughter, pleasant feelings, unfathomable love boxing me in.

The tea burned my throat, scarring the scales deep inside.

I threw the priceless china at the floor, shattering it to pieces.

He flinched at the sound. “Was it not to your liking?” Despite such a violent act, such an insult to his very being, his voice was still so soft, so understanding. It was maddening.

My voice could barely reach over a whisper. Pathetic. “It was perfect.”

A deeply sad frown still etched itself on his muzzle. Fortunately for us, Mettaton wasn’t one to notice anyone but himself.

“Wonderful tea as always! Simply wonderful!” Mettaton’s cup was nowhere to be found, nor was the knowledge of how he could have even drunk it. “However, as much as we’d all love to sit around drinking teas, we really must get on with the show!”

Sans nodded, his cup empty as well, somehow.

“Now then,” Mettaton cupped his hands together in a serious fashion, pretending to be serious. “I’m sure most everyone knows you, but if you could state your name and occupation for us all?”

Nodding solemnly, the witness answered, “I am A—rr.” Damn it. Hands won’t steady themselves. “I’m the leader of an organization called The Family. We’re a charity for monsters in need.”

“My my, and I can personally attest that he’s a great monster!” Mettaton said, spotlights rushing to him like hungry ants to a scrap of food. “Not only has the old goat gotten me out of quite the debt, he even helped pay for the courtroom’s renovations!”

He held up an index finger, politely trying to get the prosecutor’s attention. “Ah, you are most welcome, Mr. Ton. We never did quite discuss how you’d like to pay back-”

“Oh! Such a generous man!” Mettaton shouted, the spotlights on him glowing more intensely.

He smiled nervously. “Uh, yes, thank you for your kind words, but-”

“Modest, too! Ah! How blessed all of monster kind is to have you!” The lights were absolutely blinding.

He gave up with a quiet sigh, twiddling his big furry claws to himself.

I had enough time wasting. I slammed a fist down onto the desk, denting the ugly thing. “Enough! We know how great he is! Get on with it, robot!”

A smug tone worked its way into Mettaton’s voice box. “Oh, so the caveman can speak!” A chuckle. “Very well. Mr. _em__, you were a witness to the Cannibal Catty’s crime, were you not?”

He looked down at the floor. “Yes.”

“Can you please tell us what you saw that day?”

“Hm. Yes.” He kept his eyes to the floor, but they glittered with dark memories. No one could doubt his sadness for the loss of life. “I was in the alleyway in question that night.”

“What were you doing, if I might ask?”

“Throwing out garbage.” He continued his testimony, his voice deep and stoic. “I did not witness the actual death of Mr. Pants, but I did stumble upon a Ms. Catty eating burgers.”

Mettaton feigned interest beautifully. The audience was in the palm of his hand. “While that is certainly a strange sight, what did you do? What made you think something was wrong?”

His expression was grim. A mix of sadness and anger. “I am an old monster, Mr. Ton. I have seen my share of tragedy.” The anger flickered out quick enough, though. “I recognized the dust of a fallen monster.”

“Interesting, interesting!” Mettaton had heard all of this beforehand, of course. “What did you do then?”

His face was shadowed, unreadable. “What else could I do?” He sounded desperate almost. “I called the police, after apprehending Ms. Catty, of course.”

Even without a mouth, I could tell Mettaton was smiling gleefully. “Ah! What a hero, you are! Is there any doubt in your mind that Cannibal Catty did not commit the crime?”

Expression still hidden away in darkness, he said, “I have no doubts that--,”

“Objection!” I shouted, startling the witness out of his gloomy mood. His eyes were wide with a very real shock. “This is baseless … uhh…. speculation!” I faltered over my words. I’m not a lawyer, okay?! “The prosecution is…. leading the witness!” Damn, Papyrus would have handled this a lot better.

Surprisingly, Sans was cooperative with me, for once. “got a point, metts.”

With a pout, Mettaton waved it off. “Fine, fine! Strike it from the record, or whatever! Everyone was thinking it, anyway!”

Sans looked around the courtroom, craning his neck lazily. “don’t think we even have a notary.” He paused. “guess i’ll take note of that for next time.”

Hopefully there won’t be a next time.

“Regardless, darlings!” Mettaton held a microphone close to his blinking lights. “I think it’s contextually clear Cannibal Catty is guilty! The witness is a valuable member of society, and I think all of us can attest to his trustworthy testimony!”

I wasn’t being as aggressive as I should have.

“Why don’t we end this farce, now, your honor?” Mettaton added. “The defense obviously has nothing to add!”

The goat monster was quiet. Unhappy. Even under the spotlights, he still managed to find darkness. For a split second, his eye glanced at mine. I knew everything. He knew it, too.

That room. Inside his home. The humans. I remember it. I always knew it was there. Too afraid to speak up, too afraid to stop him. I let it happen. Mostly because I couldn’t believe it. But I said I’d stop him! I said I’d stop running away! I thought I had gotten over this weakness!

Before I knew it, I found my head down on my arms, lost in a tornado of thoughts and feelings. That goat monster. He meant everything to me, damn it! God, how pathetic I am, but he’s as close to a father as I ever had! How am I supposed to send someone who cared for me to jail? How could I believe he killed another monster?! That he hurt those human kids!? It didn’t make sense! That fluffy wimp couldn’t hurt anyone!

He raised me to be who I am today! If he has this darkness in him, if I admit to that, what does that say about me? Doesn’t that mean I do, too?

“Undyne.”

I snapped my head up, the voice deafening in my mind. Was it him?

It was Sans. “get a hold of yourself.” For the first time, he sounded serious.

This guy was going to help me?! Sans of all people?! I knew that punk wanted to stop him, too, but he was that desperate? Give words of encouragement to me? Ngah! I didn’t need help from a loser like that!

Damn it! I’m too afraid to even write his name down let alone say it! No more!

Asgore. Asgore. Asgore. Asgore. Asgore. Asgore. Asgore.

I pounded the desk with a curled fist, gritting my teeth.

“Asgore!”

I saw him jump at my voice. He was just as surprised as I was. No, it hurt him more than it did me. Good.

“You’re not getting away that easy!”

I put a leg up on the desk, denting it again. It felt good to break this ugly puny thing. “I demand I get my chance to cross-examine the witness or whatever!”

Mettaton’s surprise at my sudden mood change didn’t last long. “Such a way with words, this one,” he sighed. “I have no problem with it. She’s no threat to my case.”

The judge chuckled. “good luck, undies.”

Pah! I don’t need luck! Adrenaline pumped through my veins. Justice was on my side!

“Asgore!” I roared again, sending a tiny shockwave through his body. “Your story is full of holes! Just why would you be out throwing trash away at that time of night?!”

My accusation struck true again. He hid himself away in darkness, his stance stiff and rigid. Had he nothing to say?

A loud clapping brought all attention back to Mettaton. “Is throwing one’s garbage out a crime? What does it matter if it’s at night or day?”

I shook my head, fists clenched, claws biting into my scales. The pain fueled me. “Maybe not, but throwing away your trash in a different alleyway than the one nearest to your home certainly is suspicious, isn’t it?”

An electric spark. A miscalculated blink of his lights. “What?!” Mettaton growled, his fabulous voice losing its usual flair.

Asgore said nothing. Made no motion.

“That’s right!” I continued, feeling unstoppable. “I’ve been to Asgore’s little flower shop! Directly across the street, he’s got an alleyway with a dumpster right there!” I let the words settle in, watched as the confused crowd of monsters murmured to themselves for a moment. “Why would he go to a different alleyway to throw his trash away?!”

Delicate hands curled into a fist of anger. “That’s! …” Mettaton tried to counter, but even the most powerful computer couldn’t answer this.

I crossed my arms, feeling proud of myself. I cast doubt into the courtroom, and luckily, that was all I needed now.

“A simple answer,” a deep voice said. Asgore stood tall, but his head kept low. The light of the stage shimmered upon his horns, producing the illusion of a cruel grin. “The material I was throwing out was odorous. Throwing it out in the dumpster near me would create a powerful stench.” There was no sadness in his tone. There wasn’t anything.

I knew he’d fight back, but I didn’t expect that. “Just what were you throwing away, then?!”

“Fertilizer.”

I lost my balance. “Fertilizer?!” I repeated loudly, dumbly.

Asgore nodded. “Manure, if I’m to be technical. I’m sure you know what that is.”

I growled. “That’s what you’re trying to feed us right now, yeah!”

“nice one,” Sans chimed in. Gah! Shut up!

Ignoring both of us, Asgore went on, completely unfazed. “I accidently bought too much. It’s a fire hazard, you know.” He held his palm open, and a flame appeared. “And I’m quite versed in fire magic. I couldn’t risk endangering my neighbors or my customers, so I tossed the bags away in a more remote part of the city, hoping the smell wouldn’t bother anyone.”

“Lies!” I shouted angrily. “You would never lose control of your fire!”

“It is better to be safe than sorry,” he said, emotionless.

I was losing my cool. “I didn’t see a single bag of fertilizer at the scene of the crime! I didn’t smell it either!”

Suddenly, I found a finger wagging in my face from Mettaton’s outstretched arm. “Darling, darling! What is this court to do? Debate over a bag of fertilizer all day?” He tsk-tsked me. “Mr. Dreemurr has explained himself sufficiently. I see no need to keep pursuing this line of questioning!”

“But-!”

“no butts, heh,” Sans chuckled, loving the potty talk. “move on, undies.”

Ngaaah! How infuriating! All that for nothing! Whatever, I wasn’t about to give up that easily.

“Fine.” I clicked my claws together, creating a spark for a much needed cigarette. Asgore’s stoicism broke for a moment, his mouth creased with worry over my health. After everything, he still cares for me.

The arid heat scorched my already burned throat as black clouds puffed from my gills. Ngah. If only yelling, screaming, and punching could win this case! This was way harder than a physical fight! Somehow, I need to prove that Asgore isn’t this golden hero monster who can do no wrong. How was I supposed to do that when I could barely believe it myself?

I could mention the kids. Mention the room.

The rows of beds, the quiet shuffling, how still those small bodies were…

I don’t want to revisit that memory. I’ll lose myself if I do.

To anyone else, Asgore appeared to be a strong, proud leader, mourning the loss of life he witnessed. That was true. But his eyes told more to me. ‘Please don’t,’ he silently begged.

Well, even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t matter. I have no evidence to prove it. Or … maybe I did? No, it wouldn’t be relevant at all to bring that up. I’d be struck down.

“We’re waiting, darling.” Mettaton mock pointed to a non-existent watch on his wrist. “Don’t tell me you’re finished already?”

Well, I’ve got nothing. Might as well take a shot in the dark.

“I’m just getting started,” I bluffed, grinning like a fool. “So, Asgore, how can you be so sure Catty was the killer that night? By your own words, you said you didn’t witness the actual murder.”

“Oh, come now!” Mettaton exclaimed, vocally unimpressed. “Grasping at straws!”

“Let me finish!” I growled. “How can anyone be sure it was Catty who killed Burgerpants? What if someone else killed him before she showed up?”

Slamming a robotic palm on his desk, Mettaton screeched, “Objection! This is baseless speculation!” His blinking lights shone a deep angry red. “Although, not a surprise from such a base woman.”

“harsh,” Sans chuckled, chiming in unnecessarily again.

I shrugged, ignoring the insult. “Fine, sure, maybe. But all I’m asking is if Fluffybuns here can tell us anything more! Wouldn’t want to condemn Catty without all the facts, now would we?”

“fair enough,” Sans yawned. “answer to the best of your ability, gorey.”

My question didn’t faze him in the slightest. “I’m certain,” Asgore said solemnly. “I made multiple trips to the alleyway in question, merely minutes apart. I saw absolutely no sign of anyone else.”

A solid answer, but it left him open to counter attacks.

“Convenient,” I said through a puff of smoke, unnerving him slightly. “Now, I’m not going to pursue your fertilizer story anymore, even though we all know what a load that is.”

Mettaton let out another huff, threatening to interrupt at the slightest misstep.

“You sure no one else was there?” I asked again, unable to hide my confident tone.

Asgore was skeptical. Something was amiss, but he had no choice in the matter but to answer. “Of course.”

I laughed. I had no idea what I was doing, but no one else knew that. “Well, how do you explain this?!” I shouted dramatically, mimicking Papyrus to the best of my ability. With a cool flair, I held a soft golden petal that we had found in the alleyway last night.

For whatever reason, that gave an intense reaction from Asgore.

As if a punch had landed in his gut, the goat monster reeled, his shadowed face falling under the spotlight for all to see. Shock, sadness. Guilt. Suddenly his age was apparent, his knees trembling, his eyes old and grey. “That…” his voice shook and stuttered.

“Goodness me!” Mettaton yelled with a clap. “How you managed to think such a piece of evidence was relevant is astounding! I’m genuinely impressed with your foolishness!”

For once, that robot was right. It meant nothing to me, but it nearly broke Asgore. My attack went through somehow, and that was all that mattered.

“What is this gaudy little thing?” Mettaton asked, grabbing at it with his stretchy arms. “A flower petal? Good grief, darling! You’ve established Asgore was at the scene of the crime!” His voice box was overflowing with sarcasm. “You realize he owns a flower shop, yes? A flower petal could have easily fallen off his person!”

I shrugged again, grinning still. This only infuriated the prosecutor. “Guess so, huh?”

Yet the effects of the evidence still left its mark on the flower shop owner. His face hidden in the shadows again, but he was no longer stiff and rigid. His breathing was erratic, his body weak. I hit a sensitive spot, for sure. It pained me to see him like this, but it had to be done. For Alphys’ sake. For everyone’s sake.

“So, you’re just wasting the court’s time, then?” Mettaton’s screen animated into a skull and crossbones, irritated over his loss of control. “Your honor, this nonsense has gone on far enough!”

“Hang on.” Now was the time. I spat my cigarette onto the floor. Wouldn’t need it. “Don’t you get what I’m saying? I think we have proof enough that only three people were at the scene of the crime during the murder. Catty, Burgerpants, and Asgore.”

“So what?!” Mettaton gripped the edge of his desk, his metal fingers cracking and piercing the metal exterior. “We already know all that!”

I frowned, focusing my eye straight onto Asgore. It pierced him like a dagger. “Somebody killed Burgerpants at that time, and I don’t think it was Catty. Looking at all the evidence, through all the testimony we’ve received, there’s only one other suspect.”

Like an angry lightbulb flickering in his chassis, the idea finally sunk in. Mettaton nearly exploded. “You’re insane!”

“Asgore Dreemurr.” I pointed the tip of my claw towards his hulking form, the nail gleaming like a sharpened spear. “I think you murdered Burgerpants!”

No response from him. No reaction.

“Nonsense, nonsense, nonsense!” Mettaton howled like a mad dummy. Electricity jolted around the air, threatening to zap anyone that came close. “I’ve seen some terrible dramas in my day, but this takes the cake! What kind of idiot would believe a tale like this?! What kind of fool would even create a story so asinine!?”

The onlookers in the gallery were also in an uproar. Some angry, most confused. They couldn’t believe Asgore would do something so horrible, and I didn’t blame them for thinking that way.

“Do we even have a judge?!” Mettaton shouted, spewing battery acid. “Certainly would be nice to have someone rein in the crazy!”

“i’m gonna allow her to pursue the idea,” Sans said, eyes dim. “she better watch her step, though.”

A hand twitched in pure rage as the robot malfunctioned. “Madness! Absolute madness!” Mettaton pointed towards the little skeleton, animated lights seething with hate-filled crimson. “I’ll have you disbarred when this is over!”

“that’s fine,” Sans shrugged. “like i said, i never was one to judge anyway.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Mettaton grew only angrier. Scorching hot steam hissed through his seams, gears grinding at an impossible pace. “I’ve had enough of your terrible jokes! I demand you put an end to this farce right now! Declare her guilty, I say!”

“be quiet.” It was all he had to say. Sans’ tone told all. Another peep out of Mettaton about this, and he’d be ungracefully kicked out. Humiliated in front of the entire city.

The threat was real.

“Fine,” the robot huffed, lights blinking regularly again. “But I will still call her out on whatever garbage she spews.” 

“that’s fine.”

Never thought I’d find myself respecting that puny skeleton up there. Only a little, mind you. He and I had the same goal. He wasn’t doing it for me, or for anyone else, but himself. Luckily, I didn’t need his help anyway.

“Well?” Asgore asked, shadowed, defiant, and sad.

“Those ‘claw’ marks on the dumpster,” I started off, finally facing him. “Catty’s claws couldn’t have done that. Three lines running hot through the metal.”

He knew what I was implying. He simply frowned.

I growled, angry that he wouldn’t face me. The Asgore I knew was a pushover, but he was no coward. “I’ll spell it out for everyone, then. Those weren’t claw marks. It was the mark of a flaming hot trident!”

My words resonated with the gallery. Monsters chattered away to themselves again, arguing what the truth could have been. Some knew Asgore used a trident, some were still adamant he’d never hurt anyone with it, some even suggested Burgerpants must have attacked.

“Why?” Asgore turned to me, stern.

Why? Why what!? Why was I doing this to him?! Had he finally given up?

The old man sighed, reading me all too clearly. “You’re forgetting something, Undyne.” I didn’t like him saying my name. It felt wrong. “Why would I hurt Burgerpants?”

Ugh! Why don’t I think these things through? Damnit, why would Asgore ever hurt another monster?!

A robotic laughter echoed across the walls. “Oh, darling, I tried to warn you! Your line of reasoning was flawed from the start! Now it looks like you’ll have to be humiliated once again!”

I clutched my spear. It must have materialized out of a reflex to the pain. It wasn’t physical, but it still hurt.

But wait. Asgore’s hurting me! I’m a monster! (Duh.) Why would he hurt me? Why did he hurt me?

The answer was obvious.

The human children. Their souls. His soulless son. Asgore would stop at nothing to help his kid. He’s a grieving father who would do anything, even hurt innocent children, even hurt-

Of course.

“You had no choice,” I said finally. The words struck true. A terrible blow to the father.

Mettaton didn’t understand. How could he? “What? Darling, are you implying it was self-defense? Lunacy!”

I ignored him, watching as my words broke through Asgore’s armor. “Burgerpants stumbled onto something he shouldn’t have seen.”

The poor old monster’s façade was crushed. His eyes glimmered, his paws trembled. “I… I have nothing to hide,” he said hopelessly. “You have no evidence.” His voice was quiet, weak. He knew he was defeated.

My heart wrenched. I struggled with the thought of letting him go, again. Asgore was a good man. He didn’t deserve everything that had happened to him. He’d done so much good for all of monster-kind! What would we do without him? Maybe it was for the best to let him be.

A memory of Alphys’ pale heaving body threw itself into my mind. The stress Asgore caused her, the horrible things he had her create. Those human children. Burgerpants wouldn’t be the last. It had to be done.

“I do,” I said firmly with a nod. Asgore grit his teeth, clenched his furry paws into fists. Bracing for the pain.

“This shard of glass explains everything.” I pulled it out for all to see, feeling the strange zapping pressure against my scales as I held it.

Mettaton was no fool. While the glass shard meant nothing to him, he saw the effects it had on Asgore, his key witness. “What, how?” His voice had lost its dramatic flair, however. He too saw my victory approaching.

“It’s a special glass,” I continued, staring deep into its reflections, watching memories of a time long gone pass by. “Made by Alphys. It’s part of a jar used to hold souls.”

Asgore didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Shame weighed heavy on his shoulders, crushing him.

“I found it in the alleyway,” I continued, looking out at monsters all around. They were in shock. “One of two things must have happened. Either Asgore had decided to give up what he was doing with the souls, or he was capturing another.

“Things didn’t go as planned. Burgerpants came to see Catty, unknown to Asgore. He saw Asgore with the soul or souls. Like Asgore said, what choice did he have? No one could know what he was doing. It would ruin everything he had worked so hard for. Remember how Alphys couldn’t find the time of death? Fire magic was used on Burgerpants. The dust was unnaturally warm, making it impossible to know when it happened.”

“Souls?” Mettaton interjected, curious. “Everything he had worked for? Darling, I’m afraid you’ll have to fill us all in.”

It didn’t matter that Mettaton didn’t know, or that the gallery was still confused. It was over anyway. I won’t revisit that memory. Not again.

All that mattered was the big guy realizing it was all over.

“I did it.” Asgore stood tall again, out of the shadows this time. “Undyne’s right about everything.” His voice strained momentarily, but he still managed to say it. “I killed that poor little cat monster. Pinned it on the sweet young lady. I was desperate. I had hoped the justice system would be lenient on her, seeing as nothing of the sort has ever happened before.”

The courtroom was still. Even Mettaton was left speechless – for a moment at least. “But what of the souls?” he asked again.

“That is for another time,” Asgore sighed. “The important issue now is that Ms. Catty walks free.” While shame and guilt still weighed him down, Asgore stood tall, facing us all with fiery, determined eyes. He wasn’t angry.

This was the monster that lead me. This was the man who helped me find my sense of justice. This was the Asgore I had loved like a father. Finally, we could both stop running away.

“I think it’s time for the verdict, judge,” I said, feeling both a sense of pride in my heart and hurt.

“guess so,” Sans said with a grin. “after viewing all the evidence in the murder of burgerpants, i find catty guilty.”

“What?!”

“just kidding.” He winked, smirking like the idiot he is. “i find catty not-guilty.”

“WOOOOO!” A voice screamed from the gallery, causing a fierce eruption of cheering from the gallery. “UNDYNE YOU ARE ALMOST THE GREATEST! THE GREATEST STILL BEING ME, PAPYRUS!” Oh, geez, when did he get here?! Papyrus (with Alphys close by his side) was throwing confetti all over the courtroom, spreading us in a gaudy glittering snow.

I guess I should go see them.

The courtroom lobby was as bustling as ever. Monsters of every shape and size couldn’t keep their mouths shut anymore, gossiping loudly with each other.

“I can’t believe Asgore did it! What a twist!”

“Don’t be dense, it was all just a play, Asgore just acted the part.”

“I don’t know, I think this might have been real???”

“Asgore would never hurt anyone! (Ever!)”

Hm. Looks like there’d be some lasting after effects for my actions. I guess I never thought past this moment. Without Asgore, what would happen to The Family? To all the monsters in need throughout the city?

Did I do the right thing?

“UNDYNE!” A booming voice called out, clearly heard over every single other monster. “YOU DID THE RIGHT THING!”

Good ol’ Papyrus.

Dragging along a cute dinosaur girl, Papyrus dashed through to see me, holding onto his precious fedora with all his might. “YOU WERE SO COOL IN THERE!” He paused, thinking something over. “PERSONALLY, I’D HAVE BEEN COOLER, BUT THAT’S JUST MY OPINION.”

His goofy words were as soothing as cool rain. A loud thunderous cool rain, but soothing still. I couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Pap. But, what are you two doing here?”

Alphys looked up at me with those sweet eyes of hers, glasses fogging up with not-so-hidden excitement. “P-Papyrus k-kept saying how great the G-Game of Bones TV show was!”

“OH, IT REALLY IS!!”

She scowled. “T-the manga is better!!” A fist clenched in anger, but Alphys managed to take a deep breath and calm herself. Her troubles were over, after all. “A-anyways, I couldn’t s-stand it. I wanted to go out. P-Papyrus suggested going to see the trial.”

Papyrus posed heroically. “HOW COULD I LEAVE MY APPRENTICE HIGH AND DRY IN SUCH A DIRE SITUATION?!”

“Partner,” I corrected, unable to stop grinning.

“APPRENTICE PARTNER, RIGHT!” Papyrus nodded, so sure of himself like always. “WE FORCED OURSELVES IN! SOME WHIMSALOTS TRIED TO STOP US, BUT I REMEMBERED YOUR HEROIC IDEALS AND I RAN STRAIGHT PAST THEM AND INTO THE GALLERY!”

“H-he dragged me along the entire way!”

“SAFELY DRAGGED!” Papyrus corrected happily. “WHEN WE GOT THERE, THOUGH, THE TRIAL WAS ALREADY OVER! WE SAW THE VERDICT! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU, UNDYNE!”

Ah, so he missed most of everything. Good. I’m glad. Papyrus doesn’t need that in his life.

“Like, oh. My. GOD!” a girlish voice appeared behind me. A light pawing at my back. It was Catty, free of her handcuffs. “You, like, totally did it! Thank you, like, soooooooooo much!!”

I opened my mouth to respond. “IT WAS NOTHING, M’LADY!” Papyrus said, tipping his hat towards her.

Catty blinked, looking sick for a brief moment, but shaking it off. “Uhh, like, whatever! I’m, like, just soooo totally glad I’m, like, free!”

“Like, oh. My. GOD!” Another overly girlish voice floated towards us. “Like, Catty! Like, girlfriend!”

Oh lord, it was Bratty. That alligator (crocodile?) girl.

A horrible screeching noise pierced my ears. “YAAAAAAAASSSSSSS!!!” They screamed in unison, greeting each other in a tight hug.

I had a strong urge to smoke.

“Like, Bratty!!” Catty was nearly crying with excitement, pawing at her friend’s blonde hair. “Where have you, like, totally been all this time? Like, it was soooooo lame not seeing my B.F.F.!!!”

Bratty frowned. “Like, I totally would have come! But, like, tickets were sooooooo expensive!”

Wait what!? “Tickets?” I interjected. “You shouldn’t have had to pay for tickets.”

“YES, YOU SHOULD HAVE RUN PAST THE GUARDS, LIKE ME! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

With a scaly shrug, Bratty said, “Well, like, they were selling tickets to the show! And, like, the only ones left were from this TOTALLY shifty skeleton! He was, like, charging waaaay too much! It was soooo lame!”

God damn it, Sans.

“But, like, it’s totally whatever!!” Bratty went back to smiling, hopping excitedly with her friend. “I saw it, like, all on TV! It was, like, soooo rad!!” She paused awkwardly. “Well, other than the whole, like, Cannibal Catty thing.”

Yeesh. That’s right. Even if she was innocent, she still ate some of her own monster pal. That’s rough. Most of the city knows of it too.

Catty tried to play it off, but was still shaken by it. “L-like! Let’s not, like, call me that! It’s, like, totally lame!”

Not going to lie, if I, like, have to hear them speak any more, I’m going to, like, totally shoot myself. I cleared my throat to get their attention. “Glad we could help,” I said, begging mentally for them to leave.

My words appeared to have the desired effect. “Do you, like, want to go find a dump to look for some junk, girlfrand?”

Catty’s golden eyes lit up brighter than the sun itself. “Like!!! My god!! Do you even, like, need to ask!?”

“Let’s, like, totally go!!!” They squealed in unison, dashing out of the courtroom. I let out a sigh of relief. I was glad to save an innocent girl, but even gladder to see her leave.

“Darlings! Oh, darlings!” an electric voice called out to us.

Please, no.

Pushing aside his adoring fans, Mettaton rolled up to us on his lone wheel, signing autographs for nearby monsters all the way. “What a delightful show we put on!” he cooed.

Gotta admit, this wasn’t the reaction I expected. “You’re not mad?” I asked, skeptical.

Scribbling his name on a Woshua’s head, (the Woshua was mortified) Mettaton’s lights blinked happily. “Darling! Of course not!” He waved me off nonchalantly. “We gave our audience the show of a life time!”

“But you lost.”

A light on his chassis blinked out of rhythm. A tiny malfunction of his robot arms. Someone’s autograph read ‘Meton’ on accident. “Oh my! It was all an act, darling!” The robot proclaimed with a twirl. “Why, you must try it sometime! It might throw a bit of culture into your little caveman act!”

Heh heh, yeah, he was still mad. Cruel as it may have been, I enjoyed watching him try to keep his cool. “Sure,” was all I said in reply.

Gears grinded, but Mettaton turned his attention to my girlfriend. “Alphys, darling, I expect you’ll be well enough to come back to work, tomorrow?”

I could tell she wanted to say no. “O-oh, yes! I-I’m much better, now! T-thanks, Mettaton!”

He clapped happily, signing a monster baby absentmindedly and handing it back into the crowd. “Wonderful, darling, simply wonderful! Be sure to wear your new Prosecutor Mettaton pin! It’s mandatory for all employees!”

Alphys flinched, not responding right away. “B-but…”

“So glad to see you’re happy again, my dear sweet Alphys!” Mettaton cooed, signing Papyrus’ face for a second time. “I’ll see you, tomorrow!”

Before she could continue, the robot rolled away, spotlight following him out the double doors somehow. She sighed. At least her only problems now were dealing with that egomaniac ‘friend’ of hers.

“WHAT A NICE ROBOT,” Papyrus grinned, ink staining his skull. “HE ONLY CHARGED ME FIFTY GOLD FOR THIS, TOO.”

He was such a goofball.

It was nice seeing everyone get their happy ending. Well, everyone except Asgore. I couldn’t find him in the crowd of monsters. He must not have wanted to show himself. Either that, or he’s in custody.

What’s going to happen to him?

“AH, UM, UNDYNE!” Papyrus slid as subtly towards me as he could. Which was not subtle at all. “IS…IS THAT A NOTEPAD YOU’RE WRITING ON?”

I blinked. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Thought you said all real detectives use these?”

He was really trying his best to look cool, but his sweat and terribly shakey smile told everyone else otherwise. “YES! OF COURSE!” He kept looking at it, with this strange hunger in his eye sockets. “IT’S JUST… I LOST MY SPARE NOTEPAD.”

Oh. I see. “Wanna borrow mine?” I asked with a smile, reading him like a book. Or, well, like a notepad.

“OH, GOD, PLEASE, LET ME!”

I’d never say it to him, but I do love that weird gangly skeleton. Well, this notepad had its use. I think it helped me figure things out. Before I hand it over to Papyrus, I’m ripping the pages out.

See ya.

Notepad!!! It’s been more than twelve whole hours! It was so horrible not writing down my every thought, action, and feeling!! I mostly had to narrate myself out loud to Alphys, and she hated it! I don’t know why?! My grizzled detective writing style is very cool!

Anyways, you won’t believe it! Undyne won the case, all by herself! I’m so proud!! Even when we were inside, talking to Bratty, Catty, and Mettaton, she never pulled out a cigarette! She’s certainly on her way to being a real detective, like me!

“You look happy,” Undyne said with a grin, picking up Alphys and holding her on big beefy shoulders.

“WHY WOULDN’T I!” I proclaimed, scribbling frantically. “ANOTHER CASE SOLVED THANKS TO THE GREAT DETECTIVE PAPYRUS! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

My partner smiled at that, as if hearing a joke. “Yeah, you did really well, Pap.”

“C-can we just go home and r-relax, now?” Alphys pleaded, clinging to Undyne’s biceps, trying not to lose her balance. Undyne would never drop her, of course!

“AH, MAYBE YOU CAN!” I said. “THE GREAT DETECTIVE PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS NEEDED! THERE’S NO TIME TO RELAX!”

Undyne looked lost in thought. “You sure? You never want a vacation?”

“NEVER!” I answered without a beat. Undyne frowned at that, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I guess she wasn’t as great of a detective as me, so it’s only logical she might want time off. “AH, WELL… I SUPPOSE A VACATION COULD BE NICE.”

“That’s better,” she nodded. “Let’s go home and watch some Game of Bones again.”

“W-with Papyrus?...” Alphys looked unhappy. Why?!

Undyne couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh. It felt honest and true. She really was looking like her old self again. It warmed my bones!

“I’D LOVE TO JOIN YOU!” I said, opening the front door for the ladies. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do!

Ah, it was raining again! How nice for Undyne! The pitter patter of the droplets, the cool air, and the beautiful reflections were back. Undyne’s eye lit up and she dashed into the pouring rain, Alphys screeching, holding on for dear life. They were drenched in an instant.

It looks like things are going well for her. I’m so happy!

Undyne was happy, too.

Case closed!

Another case solved! But wait, is this really the end? There seems to be more pages left in this stray notepad...

[asicmind]

All The World’s a KISS Stage (well, it should be...)

Im not alone in thinking that the greatest picture ever taken in rock and roll history is the picture that is the gatefold of the 1977 double album KISS “Alive 2″. This picture totally defines what it would be like to see KISS in concert. I have been to thousands of concerts and none will ever surpass my first KISS concert two years after this iconic photo was taken. I have a numbered and signed print of this photo (by the photographer), waiting for the right frame to put it in.

now, Im very aware that this photo is staged. it did NOT happen during a show, but I can tell you that ALL OF THAT PHOTO HAPPENED IN THEIR CONCERTS!! It happened when they started in 74, and if you go to a KISS concert today, this photo will come to life. Excitiement like this photo is what I look for in concerts I see today. Some bands do know how to put on a stage show...Rush, Pink Floyd, Flaming Lips . In fact, 5 months after my first KISS live experience, I saw Parliment/Funkadelic who learned from KISS on how to make a concert stage work with great music.

So, it got me thinking...what if KISS and their stage show were a part of every other artists’ concert. The WORST concert I have ever attended was Crosby, Stills and Nash. You know why?? here...

look at that!! How boring is THAT! Seriously, I know they are icons and all that but..what propells people to shell out a ton of money just to see 3 guys under three spotlights strumming on a guitar? Now, if they even had just one member of KISS on that stage, or a tiny explosion..WOW!! That would take it up another notch. So ASICMIND is proud to present to you some unearthed nuggets of music history...artists that have influenced KISS, or were influenced by KISS at some point in their career.

We all know James Brown was the godfather of soul, but did you know that he was also the godfather of Gene Simmons? Thats right. And on several occasions, back in the early years of KISS, you would see James Brown front and center at a KISS concert. And Gene would always give him his propers ( thats what is was called back then..propers...look it up). Gene would say, “I’d like to dedicate this one to the godfather of my soul, James Brown...this is Black Diamond”. It was at these shows that Gene got the idea for crazy dance moves for KISS.

Both Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley will tell you that when they started KISS, they wanted to be The Beatles. They wated to be BIGGER than The Beatles. Both bands were a quartet, made up of a bassist and a guitarist that seemed to be the leaders, and a second guitarist and a drummer who contributed their fair share (although Gene will argue that all the way to court about Peter and Ace). KISS had to make themselves different from The Beatles. The makeup, the outrageous costumes, the fire breathing, bloodspitting, and 2 hour pyrotechnic extravaganza of a show didnt set them apart enough from The Beatles. What did they do? They tried out a fifth member to join KISS that just so happened to be a big influence on The Beatles. Needless to say, Ravi Shankar didnt cut it because he just sat there.

In 1968, Tiny Tim peaked with his rendition of “Tip Toe Thru The Tulips”, his number one hit that only charted at number seventeen. It was his staple. He was only known for that song and playing the ukulele. He wasnt even tiny! He was over 6 feet tall! After years of touring for that one song, he finally decided to change it up a bit in 76 by hiring KISS and the whole stage show to back him on his “1776-1976 Ukulele States Of America” World Tour. He died of a heart attack 20 years later.

Everyone thinks that it was comic Sam Kinison that merged comedy and hard rock. There had always been comedians that blended music into their act. Henny Youngman, Jack Benny, The Smothers Brothers..all acts that incorprated wholesome music with their comedy to give their joke an added punchline, if the music itself wasnt the joke. Richard Pryor, on the other hand, had another idea. His “That Ni**ers Crazy” tour featured a hard rock backing band consisting of four guys in whiteface wearing S&M clothing...who were they? You guessed it...

 1979 brought change for KISS. They had just released the album “Dynasty” which saw KISS “progress” with the music industry by recording a disco song, “I Was Made For Lovin You”. While it did suprisingly well on the charts, it didnt fair well with most of their fans, and The KISS Army was dwindling down to cub scout status. They tried a number of things... Im not sure why they agreed to back Frank Sinatra on a tour, but they were fired after the second performance when Gene got blood on Sinatras tuxedo.

Nobody tours like Loretta Lynn. She has one tour bus just for herself, a second tour bus for her dresses and three pick-up trucks for her band. One tour, Loretta Lynn was traveling from a show in Fargo, North Dakota to the next evenings show in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Her bus and the bus full of her dresses arrive the next afternoon at the venue but the pick up trucks werent there. She figured they had stopped to eat (as it was a Wednesday, the day Loretta lets you eat), but as showtime was approaching a few hours later, the band still hadnt arrived. Well, as her opening act started to play, about twelve 18 wheelers pull up. It was the crew of KISS and they were playing the next night. She politely asked the crew if any of them could play country. None of them could, but they said Paul and Gene always blasted her music on the tour bus and they were coming to see the show. Maybe KISS could be your backup band. Sure enough, when the 5 stretch limos arrived to bring the four members of KISS to the show, they heard the news and agreed to not only perform, but let her use their stage. It was a magical night. The photo shows the exact moment she realized what happened to the band. “Oh my God, they ran out of gas because I forgot to give them their per diem!”.

“Cant Touch Kiss” was the working title for MC Hammer, as he was a huge KISS fan back in the day. One night, Hammer was watching a KISS show from side stage. They started playing “I Was Made For Lovin You”, and Hammer couldnt help himself. He came flying out on the stage, parachute pants and all, and started dancing. After the show, Gene pulled him aside and said “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, or try and use our name in a song, Ill sue your ass so fast, you’ll be broke before you reach triple platinum”...and, now you know what happened to MC Hammer.

Believe it or not, for all of their evil “devil music” and demonic stage shows, their biggest hit was a ballad by drummer Peter Criss, “Beth”, a song with vocals, piano, and a string section. When “Beth” was performed, Peter would come out and sit on a stool and throw roses out to the ladies in the crowd while he sang against a backing music track. One night the band wanted to mix it up a bit. They re-arranged “Beth” to be done by the four members, and Gene called his old buddy from Hebrew School, Barbara Streisand, to come sit in on the one song. She agreed, but only if she could make some changes. That night, and only that night, the song “Beth” became known as “Babs”.

If you have ever seen or heard an interview with Gene Simmons, he is all about the swagger..he is all about being cool. He is cool  when flying 50 feet in the air and blood flowing from his mouth. He thinks he invented cool, so much so that he tried to trademark the word “cool”. He was denied because another artist, Miles Davis, already had it. Gene invited Miles to a KISS show. Miles arrived with his trumpet and walked out on stage unannounced. Gene ran over to him and whispered, “Miles my man, I only invited you to watch, not play”. Miles looked at him and said, “dude, shut the fuck up start playin “Love Gun”. Thats my jam”.

Charlie Daniels wrote the song “Devil Went Down To Georgia” based on seeing a KISS concert in Dahlonega, Georgia. He truly thought that they were the band brought there by Satan himself. Years later, Charlie Daniels still tours with that song being the only one anyone ever recognizes. He makes more money from jukebox residuals than touring. Now with YouTube and all, who needs jukeboxes, so this past year he was invited by Paul Stanley to perform “Devil Went Down to Georgia” at that same venue in Dahlonega. No shocker hear, Paul played the part of the devil. Not sure how they got a stripper pole on that small stage.

A few years ago, KISS was finally inducted into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. (RRHOF) One of the traditions at the award ceremony is to have someone who was very influenced by, or influential to the nominee introduce them at the award cerfemony and perform with them.. Well that list was too long to pick one person, so the committee pondered on it. Who or what means the most to KISS? The answer...money. At this point during the meeting, the secretary of the RRHOF had just left the room to take a call about her sons babysitter being sick so she had to leave and pick up the boy from the bus stop. Not asking what else was said in the meeting, she went ahead and booked Eddie Money to play with KISS at the ceremony. To this day, KISS doesnt even know why but they made the best of it... Eddie Money blew a blood vessel that night.

Today, KISS is still a major influence all over the performing arts. Even the cast of the broadway sensation “Hamilton” has special once a month matinee performance with KISS as the pit band.

..and even Paul Stanley is a huge “Hamilton” fan..

Today, THE hottest ticket is Adele. No band on stage, no pyro, just ...her...and that voice... people are paying thousands to see her/hear her. but..she knows... she gets it.. she needs to figure out something to boost that stage. Well, she is on the right track.. recently she got former KISS guitarist, Vinnie Vincent who has been a recluse and not been seen in years to come and play guitar for her. He asked if he could wear the makeup and outfit for old times sake. She said, “Sure, as long as you dont spill me coffee, mate”.

Get it?