#i’m not mad or anything i’m just sorta dumbfounded at how that even happened in the first place LOL

[ahalliance]

anyone remember the qsmp black box recording of the french plane pilots where one of them randomly drops a “monseigneur” into the conversation . instead of the far more normal “monsieur”

[tokosparrow]

a/n : my glenn brainrot got the best of me lately, so here we are. plus some songs are really helping me out with writing these headcanons💪💪

extra info: these headcannons are going to be romantic and the reader is gender neutral >:D

> you two met while you became a new hire for cognito, you probably were introduced to the gang when you got brought into the group.

> despite his abrasive nature, you two somehow became friends, you’ve already made small friendships with the others so you’ll feel bad if you’ve left him out.

> he even shows you around his office to get you comfortable a bit working in cognito, he might have showed you some of his blueprints he made if you happen to be a artist.

> you might have asked about his surgery hoping it doesn’t really make him mad, yet he doesn’t really? the conversation might led to him talking about some things in the military in the end, its pretty interesting hearing about it.

> glenn may even wag his tail a bit as he does so because he actually enjoys talking about anything military related (which i think is pretty cute thinking about it USJWHWJ)

> he was a little surprised as how much you listened to him even though he could be very unfriendly at times, he actually enjoys it, maybe too much how sweet

> he’s even more surprised whenever he made not so funny jokes and you actually laugh?!?! oh how soft you’re making him.

> glenn soon realized this softness inside him grow more every time he talks or just happens to be around you when the months went on as you worked inside cognito. he sorta panicked whenever he came into that realization.

> he would love to try to keep a small distance from you for this exact reason but you always seem to be everywhere he happens to be, he’s just sweating bullets at this point.

> of course you’re worried whenever you notice the small changes in his behavior, it’s even bad when the gang realizes this.

> “glenn, you’re acting weird, what’s your problem?” “nunthing!” “is it because of (Y/N) ;)??” SHUT IT MUSHROOM >:(“

> after being convicted by the gang (especially brett and andre) he finally built up the courage to actually give you a proper confession, even preparing himself to get rejected due to his looks and personality.

> he’s scared, very scared.

> but yet when he did, he was once again surprised and dumbfounded whenever you gave him a confession back, oh how the abrasive man turned into almost mush.

> his tail has never wagged harder then before, he’s gonna explode any minute, so you give him a minute to actually calm down.

> the gang celebrated whenever they found out.

> “oh my god, he did it guys” “i’m so happy for you guys :DD!”

> may you two have many more happy memories >:)

have a good day, noon, or night dear readers :DD

[harrystylesleftkneecap]

Mint and chapstick

Warnings : Slight smut, spanking, poly (sorta) cussing, nudity.

(JJ maybank x reader x John b)

A/N: Uh so this is something I’ve literally been looking for but couldn’t find it anywhere so I just wrote it myself. It’s bad, it’s kinda nasty, and there are mistakes everywhere. I have another imagine written that’s more soft JJ and includes slight (breastfeeding sorta kinda). So let me know if you want to see it. But just enjoy ig lmao. GIF isn’t mine but the writing and ideas are.

“Come here...now y/n” JJ spoke, patting his knees.

You stared at him in disbelief, he wouldn’t. Not here. Not now.

“JJ i-“ you started, but jj quickly cut you off.

“That’s not my name” he corrected, a smirk forming across his face.

You glanced at John B who was sitting across from JJ. He looked fine, not confused one bit.

“He knows you’ve been a bad girl y/n, you haven’t been behaving and this may be the only way to get you to.” JJ said. He was enjoying this way too much.

Shakily letting out a breath, you looked down at your feet that slowly began making their way towards JJ.

“How many John b, 10,20?” He asked his friend.

John b finally spoke up, “20 sounds good to me.”

You gasped slightly and turned towards your friend, your body burning in embarrassment.

“What is 20 not enough for you?” John b started “you have been kinda bratty lately.” He finished with a smirk.

“N-no, 20 is fine.” You breathed, turning back to your boyfriend.

Arousal began pooling between your legs. This was so wrong, wasn’t it? John b shouldn’t be involved in you and JJ’s sex life. But for some reason, you began getting excited for the events to come.

“Come on, be a good girl for daddy.” JJ spoke, patting his legs once more.

You sat on his lap, not facing either of the boys. You intended to keep it that way, until JJs rough hands gripped your chin and pulled you to face him.

“Don’t be shy now baby, you’ve been talking about John B an awful lot now haven’t you?” He questioned, tracing your lips with his ring clad thumb.

He lightly shook you, “answer me pumpkin.”

“Y-yes daddy.” You mewled.

You had been thinking about this since JJ brought it up. But you didn’t think he would do it so suddenly. Maybe a casual ‘hey I think we’re gonna try this now’ would have helped calm your nerves.

“That’s right, now shirt or no shirt?” He sent a questioning glance to his friend manspreading in the chair across the room.

“Hmm, no shirt.” He responded

“Great idea, you heard him honey.” He told you, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

You slowly stood to remove your cami, facing John b as he smiled.

JJs hands found your hips as your shirt lifted, your tan skin and perky breasts finally being freed from the fabric. He rubbed small circles in your hips and turned you toward him.

His blown out pupils and messy hair didn’t help the wetness quickly pooling in your shorts.

Reluctantly, you crawled into his lap. Pressing your chest into his legs and resting your palms on the floor.

“That’s my good girl.” Jj cooed, sliding his hands into the pale pink pajama shorts you were wearing. He squeezed your ass lightly, almost reassuring you.

You had talked about this before, JJ thought it would be a nice change. You were reluctant at first, but couldn’t get the idea of someone watching you out of your head. Either way, this is just like you had talked about.

As he slid your shorts down to your ankles John B spoke again, “no underwear, I think that calls for an extra 5.”

JJ let’s out a light chuckle,” I think it does too, you know better pumpkin.” He continues by running his hands over the smooth skin of your ass, moving to the pool of arousal in between your legs.

“Why are you acting so shy? The pool in between your legs is telling me you’re enjoying this much more than you’re letting on.” He says, the smirk playing on his face has yet to dissipate.

John B let’s out a light laugh as your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“It’s okay y/n, no need to hold back because of me.” John b speaks, placing his arms behind his head simply admiring the sinful view situated before him.

JJ moves his hands from between your legs and rests them on your lower back. “You know how this goes y/n, count each of them. Afterwords you apologize, and if you do well you’ll get a kiss... from both of us.”

You turn to look at your boyfriend, surprised That he’s letting John B get in on more action than you had previously thought.

“O-okay.” You shakily let out.

“Alight pumpkin, you ready?” JJ asks.

“Yes daddy.” You reply, your words coming out stronger than before from anticipation.

You close your eyes anticipating the first blow, and when JJs hand connects with your ass you let out a quiet moan as fire burns through you.

“One.” You began.

The second blow was harder than the first, but that doesn’t mean you liked it any less.

“Two.”

The third comes down, and his force isn’t helping your arousal one bit.

You let a louder moan slip as you count the third. And JJ smirks at you.

“Sometimes I think you’re bratty just so I’ll spank you. You enjoy this too much, maybe I’ll have to find another way to punish you.”

As you reach the 20th blow, your ass is burning. and tears began to form in your eyes. The pressure building in your stomach becomes harder and harder to control. And you begin to think that you may fall apart without any other stimulation.

“John B, you wanna get the last 5?” JJ suddenly asks.

You open your eyes and look at the other boy, who nods his head and rises from his spot in the chair.

“Okay, you be a good girl for John B.” JJ says, helping you stand from your spot on his lap.

Standing completely bare in front of the two very attractive boys had you squirming, reaching to cover your breasts as John B walks over.

Before you could, he reaches and grabs your arms. “None of that now, we all know you aren’t shy.” He speaks lowering down to your eye level.

JJ sits back on the chair John B was previously in. Watching in awe as his beautiful girl lays over his best friends lap. This was all he could have ever asked for.

He helps you situate over his cargo shorts, staring at the red marks JJ had left previously.

“Jesus man, these rings gotta hurt.”

“She likes them” JJ replies, making you let out a soft laugh as your boyfriend shoots you a wink.

“You ready?” John B asks, as he brings his hands over the reddened skin.

“Yes-“ you began, turning to look at JJ asking how to adress his best friend.

“Sir, yes sir.” JJ says.

Taking a breath you speak,” yes sir, I’m ready.”

John B was playing it cool, just like JJ had told him. JJ said that you likes being controlled, and he had to act cool if it was really going to get you going.

John Bs first blow wasn’t very hard, and you didn’t expect it to be. You hadn’t thought he had ever done anything like this before.

“Y-you can go harder.” You told him, making JJ stifle a laugh.

“I told you bro, she likes it.”

John B chuckles as he lands his second blow, causing a sinful whine to fall past your lips.

“Twenty two.”

As John B lands his last one, tears have spilled over, running down your cheeks.

JJ rises and sits down on the couch beside you two, pulling you to stand in front of them.

“I think you owe us an apology now.” He says, that sinful smirk still playing on both of their faces.

Still completely bare, you took a shaky breath and wiped your tears.

“I’m sorry I was a brat, it won’t happen again.”

JJ hums, “oh yes it will, but I think that was a great apology.” He turns to John B.

“Yeah, perfect.” John B smiles.

You smile at the two boys like a child. More than Happy with the events that had just occurred.

“Cmere baby.” JJ laughs and pulls you into a sweet embrace, pulling away to kiss you softly. He sits you on his lap and he pulls away, pushing your hair behind your ears and wiping the remaining tears.

“Now I think you owe John B something.”

You turn to John b and he places his hands on your face to pull you in for a kiss.

His lips were softer than you had imagined. He didn’t taste like JJ. JJ tastes like smoke and sweet liquor. John B tastes more like mint and and, was that your chapstick?

“Have you been using my chapstick?” You asked as you pulled away.

John b let out a laugh, “maybe!” He smirked.

You all fell into a fit of giggles, and JJ threw your shirt and shorts back at you.

“Get dressed, and put on some underwear princess. You know the rules.” JJ said, falling back onto the couch.

“Damn, her ass is tore up.” John B spoke in disbelief as you pulled your cami over your head.

“Honestly it’s not the worst it’s ever been, like that one time-“ you began, but JJ quickly cut you off.

“Dont even fucking mention that, God I was so mad.” He sighed, covering his face with his hands.

You laughed and wiggled into your shorts before falling back in between the two boys.

You fell into a peaceful silence before the front door swung open and kie ran in pulling pipe behind her.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” She asked, throwing her bag onto the floor and walking into the kitchen.

“Ah, nothing much,” John B groaned, standing from the couch and following her into the kitchen.

JJ pulled you into a hug and kissed your head. “Did you enjoy that?” He whispered

You nodded.

“Wanna do it again?”

You nodded again.

“Sounds good pumpkin.” He smiled, standing to shake hands with pope.

“Y/n where’s your chapstick?” Kie suddenly asked, coming back into the living room with John b behind her.

“Oh it’s in my purse, hang on.” You told her, rising from you spot on the couch and bending over to reach for your purse on the floor.

“HOLY SHIT WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ASS.” Kie screams, running up to you to get a better look.

Dumbfounded you tried to come up with a reply.

“You and JJ need to chill out, and John B I’m surprised you let this happen under your roof!” She scoffed, causing the three boys to burst into laughter.

“I cannot believe you guys! After all I’ve done for you! And you come into my humble abode and do sinful things! Unbelievable!” John B scoffs, falling back onto the couch.

“Here’s your fucking chapstick.” You mumbled, handing Kie your cherry lip balm.

“Thanks.”

You look over to the two smirking friends on the couch, only hoping for something similar to happen again.

[lowkeyjustvibing]

Guess who decided to write more fanfic?

So I took those angsty IBVS headcanons, procrastinated for forever, and have finally figured out how I shall write this.

Also I decided to get some hurt/comfort up in here ‘cuz our favorite school king doesn’t deserve pure distilled pain without getting hugs.

IBVS by onebizarrekai

It was odd to say the least. Edward was known to be arrogant and boisterous, enough so that he drew the attention of anyone and everyone. So it was certainly confusing when the normally loud and proud school king slowly became much more quiet and secluded. No one knew what had caused it but after just a week Edward was an entirely different person. He was jumpy and hardly interacted with anyone outside of his inner circle. Easy to say, this caught the attention of many of the students.

“Hey, you know what’s up with Ed?” Chris asked, “I mean, he hasn’t shown up to any of the meetings and I rarely see him outside of class.”

“I dunno’,” Isaac said, not looking up from his sketchbook, “but yeah, it is a little weird that Mr. High and mighty is all secluded now.”

“I’m just worried.” Chris mumbled and Isaac gave him an odd look, “Hey! Don’t you dare. I just don’t want him to be hurt or something and we haven’t done anything to help him. I know you two don’t have the best relationship but you have to at least be a little concerned.”

After a moment of silence, Isaac sighed and set aside his sketchbook, “Alright, you caught me. Yes I’m a little curious about what’s up with the big guy, but what do you want to do about it? You can’t expect to just ask him what’s wrong and get him to pour out his heart or something. It was already difficult to get him to talk about like, anything aside from supernatural stuff before so I can’t imagine how sheltered about personal stuff he’d be now.”

“Well I’m getting the truth out of him one way or another.” Chris responded, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

“You should try asking Barry if he knows anything, he and Quinton are pretty close.”

Chris just nodded before waving goodbye and leaving to go find Barry.

-------

“I don’t know what’s wrong either.” Barry said sadly, “He doesn’t even come over anymore.”

Chris groaned in frustration, falling onto his back and frightening a nearby cat, “Great, so NO ONE knows.”

They both just sat there for a minute, neither of them wanting to break the silence.

“It’s just so frustrating!” Chris groaned, digging his palms into his eye sockets, “I mean, it’s not like the answer is just going to just waltz through the door!”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang coming from the kitchen and they both jumped. They glanced at each other and then tensed upon hearing the back door fly open and shut.

“Hello?” Barry called.

There was no response and Chris stood up, a fuzzy outline of a blade hovering next to his hand. Barry followed him as they slowly walked into the kitchen to see what was happening. 

“Hey!” Chris called, “Who’s there?”

There was a quiet sniffle and then a weak voice responded, “S-sorry for j-just walking in...”

Barry blinked a few times before stepping forward, “Ed?”

Sure enough, the once proud school king was hidden in the corner hugging his knees to his chest. He was shaking and breathing unevenly and looked like a mess.

“Holy cow Ed,” Barry muttered, walking over quickly, “what happened?”

When he tried to reach out to comfort his obviously distressed friend, Edward flinched back, “D-don’t t-touch me p-please...”

Chris stepped forward, “Are you OK?”

Edward shook his head, barely stifling a sob.

“Is there anything we can do?” Barry asked.

“W-water.” Edward croaked, wiping his face with his sleeve.

It was then that Chris noticed that the other was wearing thick gloves and extra layers.

“Are you cold?” He asked, “I can get you a blanket.”

Edward shook his head slightly and Barry returned with a glass of water.

“Here.” He said, carefully handing it to Edward without touching him.

After confirming that he wasn’t hurt or anything, Chris and Barry walked back to the living room to give him some space.

“Did you see how much stuff he was wearing?” Chris asked, “He looks like he’s planning to go to Antarctica or something.”

Barry thought for a moment, “He said he didn’t want to be touched, maybe that’s part of it?”

Chris nodded, “But it’s weird, he was never this paranoid about being touched. Heck, he used to drag Isaac into closets. What changed?”

“That’s something he’s going to have to tell us.”

-------

After Edward finally calmed down enough to talk, Chris and Barry began rapid firing questions at him.

“Are you OK?”

“What happened?”

“Why were you so freaked out?”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“H-hey!” Edward stuttered, “I appreciate the concern but just... One at a time or something.”

Barry was the first to speak, “What happened?”

This seemed to catch the other off guard, “Well, umm... I just- Umm...”

“Here,” Chris interrupted, “let’s break it down a little, did someone do this to you?”

After a bit of hesitation, Edward nodded.

“Who?” The other two asked simultaneously.

“N-” Edward flinched, “E-emo kid...”

“Nevin?!” Chris asked incredulously and Edward flinched again.

Barry only grew more concerned, “What did he do?”

“H-he’d catch me a-after school and beat m-me up...” Edward mumbled, seeming to shrink into himself, “I-it sorta’ became an e-everyday thing. I’d get out of class and h-he’d drag me off somewhere and...”

“Holy...” Chris muttered, “Edward I- Oh my gosh... I’m so sorry man.”

At this, Edward broke and started crying. It took every ounce of self control in both of them not to rush forward and comfort their friend.

Barry rested a hand on Chris’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of him, could you go talk to Nevin?”

Chris nodded, his worry instantly forgotten as he was filled with anger and determination, “Of course. Take care of him while I’m gone.”

And with that, he was off again, this time with a burning sense of purpose.

--------

Chris knocked on the door to the Jovel’s house (To be fair, pounding would be a better word). After a few moments, none other than Nevin opened the door. He looked bored and vaguely annoyed, like Chris had just inconvenienced him.

“‘Sup Chris?” He asked nonchalantly.

At the completely unfazed tone, Chris couldn’t help the slight flicker of a knife appearing at his side.

“Well,” He said through gritted teeth, “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

Nevin gave him a suspicious look, probably noticing his tone, before moving aside, “Then come on in.”

“I’d rather not.” Chris muttered.

“Oh?” Nevin responded, “But I insist.”

Chris finally snapped. He grabbed Nevin and after yanking him out onto the porch, pinned him against the outside wall. Before the other could even speak, there was a bright red blade inches from his throat. 

After recovering, Nevin finally spoke, “Oh, this was unexpected.”

“How DARE you.” Chris hissed, the knife edging just a hair closer.

Nevin gave him a confused look, “How dare I what?”

“You know what!” Chris spat, “Here, I’ll help you out. Two words, Edward. Quinton.”

Nevin looked at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. It took all of Chris’s willpower not to give Nevin a taste of his own medicine and beat him up.

“Oh I forgot about that!” He wheezed, “That was fun! Can’t believe you’re actually worried about that guy.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?” 

“Oh please, inform me.” Nevin drawled, once again looking bored and inconvenienced.

Chris felt his eye twitch and he dropped Nevin, “OK, how about I give you a demonstration then?”

As the other stood up, Chris noticed that his eye had turned to the unnatural cyan color indicating that his powers were activated. Then, to his surprise, a thick black liquid seemed to materialize on his shorter opponent.

“You want a fight?” Nevin said, grinning wildly, “You got one.”

-------

Meanwhile, Edward was sitting with Barry on his couch watching a movie. It took a while, but Barry eventually managed to convince his friend that he wasn’t going to be hurt. Not long after that, Edward was practically on top of him, furiously denying that the action meant anything. About halfway through the movie, the front door slammed open and Edward screeched before falling off the couch.

“Chris?” Barry called and received an affirmative grunt in response. 

After hearing him struggle for a bit and mutter something about octopi, Chris finally walked into the living room.

Barry jumped up at the sight of him, “Holy-! I’ll go get my kit, stay right there!”

Chris groaned before flopping face first onto the couch. He was covered in cuts, bruises, and odd patches of black slime.

Edward looked worried, “Are you OK?”

“Peachy.” Chris responded, turning to look at him, “How ‘bout you?”

“Better than you I suppose.”

Barry got back with some medical supplies and started fussing over Chris. While he was getting cleaned up, Chris explained how he got into a fight with Nevin and “Taught that crazy goop lord a lesson”. Barry didn’t even question that statement, just telling Chris to go take a shower before he made even more of a mess.

“Want to finish the movie?” Edward asked after hearing the upstairs bathroom door close.

“Sure.” Barry responded, “Just let me clean off the couch first.”

-------

By the time Chris finally finished showering, realized he didn’t have spare clothes, and was supplied some sweats and a T-Shirt by Barry, it was already dark.

Chris swore quietly, “My dad’s gonna’ kill me when I get back. I should probably go before he gets even more mad.”

“Oh heck with your dad!” Edward shouted from the kitchen, “He’s gonna’ be pissed whether you go back now or a week from now! How ‘bout we all just hang out here for the night?” 

Barry shrugged, “Sounds good to me.”

Chris was dumbfounded, “B-but I need to-”

“Ah shut up ya’ nerd.” Edward said, sauntering out of the kitchen, “You already had quite the day so there’s no point in going home just to get chewed out by your dad.”

“Besides,” Barry interjected, “I don’t think he’d miss that you’re wearing someone else’s clothes.” Chris flushed slightly at that statement, “I’ll toss your clothes in the washer and you can go back tomorrow looking like nothing happened.”

“OK...” Chris mumbled, still embarrassed.

After Barry left to put Chris’s clothes in the laundry, Edward jumped onto the couch, bouncing once and then burying his face in a pillow. Chris just grabbed the blanket and sat down on the other side of the couch, wrapping himself in it. Then, to his surprise, Edward grabbed a corner of the blanket and yanked on it, pulling Chris (Who had a death grip on said blanket) onto him.

“‘M cold.” Edward muttered, yanking on the blanket a few more times.

Chris was conflicted and incredibly flustered. On one hand, he wanted that blanket and on the other, he wanted to apologize for nearly falling on top of his new friend. Edward didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he seemed quite content. It took a few moments of mental struggle for Chris to decide that being warm under the blanket was worth more than apologizing profusely. Barry finally got back, stifling a laugh at the sight of an unconscious Edward practically cuddling a very flustered Chris.

“Help!” Chris whispered.

Barry just grinned and sat next to them, “Sorry buddy, I’ve learned from experience that there’s no escaping Ed when he’s in a cuddly mood.”

With that, Barry grabbed a corner of the blanket and pulled some onto his legs before leaning up against the arm of the couch. Chris sputtered a bit before succumbing to his fate and deciding to just get some sleep, almost instantly passing out.

---------

Anyways, I’m too lazy to write it out but Chris totally wakes up to Edward and Barry acting like an old married couple and giving each other kisses while they’re cooking. But yeah, I decided to write some good ol’ Edward angst and accidentally turned it into a poly ship, so sue me. 

[duckiee-the-ducky]

Scent: Errorink Fanfic

original “Scent” by @lemonadebytrade

Key: (M)=Mind (W)=Whisper (G)=Grumble/Growl (S)=Shout

Error closed his eyes taking in the wonderful scent.

He never smelt anything like it. The smell warmed his body and provided him with extra comfort. Error loved the smell of Ink. For multiple reasons, actually;

It reminded him of all his good memories.

He always wanted to be around it. 

It told many great stories.

Comforted him in his weakest times.

It also meant, Ink was there.

Ink looked at Error and gave a small smile.

Ink: Comfy?

Error opened his eyes and realized what position he was in.

Error: Uh... yeah..?

Ink chuckled. He thought Error was very cute when he was being shy, even though they’re married.

Ink: Really? You don’t sound too sure of yourself-

(S)Error: -I am sure! ...Uh...

Error blushed and looked away. Ink couldn’t help but smile.

Ink: Wanna get something to eat before we hit the hay?

Error’s soul ached with hunger. He, very much so, wanted food, but he also didn’t want to move. He didn’t want the sensation to end so quickly. Error did not respond, but tightened his grip on Ink.

Ink: Error? You okay?

Error nodded, still not willing to respond with speech. Ink patted Error’s head.

Ink: You know, you can do this while we’re going to sleep. We sleep in the same bed, silly.

Error blushed, embarrassed. He didn’t think of that. He slowly let go and sat up straight. Ink could see his face clearly now. Error was still blushing, but he was pouting too.

Ink: Just so you know, you look adorable when you pout-

Error: SHUT UP!

Error was flustered.

The skeletons went to the kitchen and started making sandwiches. They were easy to make. Error started spreading mayonnaise on Ink’s sandwich. Ink left to go get something. Error didn’t like that. 

(M) Error: Ink just got home after a long trip and now he’s gone again...

He really missed Ink. Error didn’t ever want him to leave again, but here we are. 

Error sometimes thought, in the depressing, dark depths of his mind, that Ink wasn’t happy with him. That Ink didn’t love him anymore. That’s why he left. It hurt Error to think about it, so he pushed it back farther. 

He noticed he was shaking... and sweaty. He quickly put the half-made sandwich down and hurried to the bathroom.

Ink rummaged through his belongings looking for the present he got for his sweet Error. 

Ink: Mn.. where... is ... it?!

He couldn’t find it.

Ink was crestfallen. Where did he put it? Error was waiting on him, he had to find it! Ink continued to rummage through his stuff once more. 

Ink hit something in the very bottom of his bag; this was it. He found it! He pulled the gift up to the surface. A cloth. Just a cloth. 

Ink was excited to give this to Error. 

He rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. A half-made sandwich was on the table.

Ink: Error?

No response.

Ink walked back to the living room. He wasn’t there.

The bedroom. Not there either.

He came to the bathroom door. He tried turning the knob, it was locked.

Ink: Error? Are you in there?

Error froze. He quickly wiped the tears from his eye sockets. His voice was shaky. 

Error: Y-yes. I-I’m fine.

Ink could hear the sadness in his voice. He became serious.

Ink: Open the door Error.

Error didn’t want to open the door. His face was still wet from tears and he didn’t want to look at Ink right now. The disgusting thought hurt too much.

Ink: Open the door or I’ll come in myself.

Error knew disaster would happen if he didn’t open the door now. He dried his face as much as possible and opened the door slowly. The creaking of the door made him dread it even more. hey that rhymed 

Ink and Error stood face to face with one another. It was painful for both of them.

Ink didn’t like seeing Error sad.

Error was on the brink of crying again.

Ink’s face softened.

Ink: Error, what’s wrong?

He gently put his hands on Error’s arms. Error pushed them away. It felt as if Error shot string right through his soul, maybe even worse than that.

Ink: Wait... Are you mad at me? Please tell me what I did wrong! I’ll make it up to you! ...Error?

Hot tears were streaming down Error’s face. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

(W) Error: I-Ink..? Do...D-Do you still love me..?

Ink was dumbfounded at the question. He cupped his hands around Error’s face.

Ink: Why would you ask that? You know the answer!

Error tried to pull it together but, it was just too hard. He continued to hiccup and sniff.

Error: I-I... I feel like... like you l-left because of m-me...

It felt as if another string pierced through Ink’s soul. Why did Error feel this way..?

Ink pulled Error into a big hug. Error wrapped his arms around Ink’s neck. 

(W)Ink: Error... I would never leave because of you... I love you so much and don’t you ever think otherwise! Now... just... let it out, okay?

Error stood there for a moment taking in the wonderful scent again. He remembered the first time he met Ink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was rainy day. It was the very first day of middle school. Error was walking in wet shoes and wearing nothing but his hoodie and shorts. Error sighed.

(G)Error: What a great way to start off middle school...

(S)???: Hey!! Wait up!!

Error turned his head around to see a skeleton, with a colorful umbrella, splashing through the puddles towards him.

Error: Ugh...

Error walked faster, but the skeleton caught up with him anyways.

Error: What do you want, weirdo?

???: I was wondering if you want to share my umbrella? My name’s Ink by the way. What’s yours?

Error stared at Ink in annoyance.

Error: Noneya.

Ink: Noneya?

Error: None-ya-business.

Ink stared at Error for a moment. He busted out laughing. Error rolled his eye lights and continued to walk. Ink wiped a fake-tear away.

Ink: I like you, you’re funny. Wanna be friends, Noneya?

Error glared at Ink.

Error: Not even in another lifetime.

He continued walking. Ink walked with him.

(S)Error: Would you go away already?!

Ink looked shocked at Error. He then looked at his feet and let Error walk ahead.

(M)Error: Ugh, finally. That idiot is leaving me alo-

Error slipped on a puddle and fell face first onto the ground. After that, it mostly just darkness.

Error slowly opened his eyes. Pain pierced through his skull. 

Error: Ugh... ow...

Ink: Oh! You’re awake! Thank goodness.

Error froze.

(M)Error: That voice... oh no...

He looked to where the voice came from. Just as he thought; It was Ink. Error slouched down in the nurse bed.

Ink: How are you feeling?

Error didn’t respond.

Ink looked at him for a moment. 

Ink: I... was gonna wait to ask you this, but... do you remember me?

Error looked at Ink, confused.

Error: I’m pretty sure I would remember an idiot like you.

Ink sighed.

Ink: I guess you don’t, huh? Well... maybe this will jog your memory?

Ink pulled out a folded up piece of paper. He unfolded it and it had a picture of two people holding hands in the center. One of them looked kinda like Error, and the other looked like...

Error: Squid..?

Ink gleamed with happiness.

Ink: You do remember! Haha! I missed you, Glitchy.

Error’s eyes grew wide. He hadn’t seen him in 7 years. They went to the same daycare when they were 4. Ink was his best friend.

Error sat up and hugged him. The vaguely familiar scent of his 4-year-old best friend came back to him. It warmed his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Error was crying again, but smiling too.

Ink: Let’s go sit down, okay, Ruru?

Ink gave a soft smile.

Error: Heh heh, okay, Kiky.

They walked to there bedroom, hand in hand, completely forgetting about dinner. Ink sat Error down on the bed.

Ink: I have something for you.

Ink cupped his hands around Error’s face and wiped his tears away with his thumbs. Error loved it when he did that.

Error: Okay...

Ink pulled out the cloth.

Ink: Here.

He handed it to Error.

Error: A cloth..? Are you serious?

Error looked at Ink and cocked an eyebrow.

Ink: Yes. Turn it over.

Error turned the cloth over and on the back it read; My love for you will always be by your side. Hold onto me forever, until we die together. -Kiky

Error read it over and over again.

Ink: This may sound a bit weird but, smell it.

Error glanced at Ink, then back at the cloth. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it. It smelled just like Ink. Error quickly looked back at Ink.

Error: It smells like... 

Ink: Me. Now you’ll have a piece of me wherever you go... and you can give me my sweater back.

Error wrapped his arms around Ink again.

Error: I love it... Thank you, Kiky... I love you...

Ink embraced him back.

Ink: I love you too, Ruru...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

~for now!~

For @lemonadebytrade:

Thank you so much for inspiring me to write this fanfiction! Since you do such a good job on all of yours, I decided to make a sequel to my favorite short story, Scent. I wanted to add a little bit of that Error sadness because I feel like Error would feel that way. I also decided to add a flashback because you added a flashback- double flashback?? whatttttt?? Also, their first meeting in the daycare was sorta based off of Momma CQ because Ink and Error first met at a daycare there too. I really hope you like it. I didn’t want to put too much romance-romance because there are real problems in a real marriage in real life. You portrayed that well in the original too. While I was writing this, 90% of the time I was saying “Poor Lil’ Error-”  ;-; Errorink might be the death of me OTL ciao~

[oopcio]

Could I request an HC of the main 6 with an MC that is sorta dense and just REALLY oblivious about the LI having a crush on them? MC still reciprocates their feelings, they just suck at telling whether or not someones flirting with them. If you're up for something extra to add: LI confesses to having a crush on MC, but MC thinks that they are under some sort of love spell and so they start freaking out and trying to “reverse” the spell.

yes omg pls this is me

asra:

as much as it pains him to feel like his feelings are unrequited, he knows you better than anyone and that you, with all due respect, are a bit dense. don’t be mad! he still loves you though! it got to a point where, he inwardly proposed, that he could blantantly say he was deeply in love with you with every fiber in his being and you’d turn it right around, somehow. oh, it was so cute, though... was it possible to fall even more in love with you? if so, he definitely did. “even the cards are telling me that the person that you’re destined to be with... is right across from you.” he watched as your dumbfounded expression landed on the stove salamander in the middle of the table, and laughed the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh.

but when the signs kept pouring in, he saw no use in trying to defy fate any longer. so he decided that he would close up shop and go stroll through the market and grab some bread from your favorite baker, find yourself walking through town square into the shopping district where you’d both goof off and wrap one another in scarves and hats that were as big as you just to put on stupid, silly accents to make the other laugh. no matter how childish, it was one of the best nights of asra’s life. and then it came time for the main event.

“mc, i have something to tell you,” he started out, his tone serious for the first time today. you urged him on, and that’s when he spilled the news. “i... i really love you. i’ve been in love with your for a long time - actually, ever since i first saw you, truth be told.” he reached out and grabbed your hands, looking deeply into your eyes with nothing but adoration for you and only you. but there was only one thought in your mind.

“did the baker put something in the bread? no- wait- did you drink something you weren’t supposed to before we left? cast any spells?” he chuckled and cut you off, ceasing any words that were going to leave your throat. “i can assure you, i’ve not done anything of the sort. i’m serious; and i’m far more responsible than that, i’ll have you know.” you laughed nervously and played with the hem of your sleeve, suddenly feeling the pressure. “wow, that’s reassuring. i feel the same way, actually. i... i never saw this coming, though.” this set asra off into a giggle fit, leaving you clutching the hem and rolling it under your fingers. “i’m... actually not surprised by that.”

nadia:

she finds your oblivion absolutely adorable, especially when she feels as if her crush is so clear. she sends fine jewelry to decorate your nightstand, has extravegant clothes specifically tailored to you, taking everything possible into consideration - quality of the cloth, your measurements, your favorite colors and patterns, occasions you can wear the garments to, etcetera. “i apologize, i couldn’t help myself. when i first seen this, i just knew it would look so perfect hanging from your wrist. don’t you think? oh, the diamonds sparkle so beautifully, it truly brings out your skin tone. hm, i was going to save this to present to you at the masquerade but... here, earrings to match.” she was more impressed than anything at how you managed to make even her most embarrassingly obvious actions seem... well, not obvious.

when the day came she decided to be open and honest with you about her feelings, she was so nervous and rosy the whole day, waiting for the absolute perfect moment because you deserved nothing less. you’ll walk through the palace gardens until you reach fhe gazebo, and nadia will promptly urge the both of you to enter. while you admire the flowers that decorate the beams holding the structure up, she speaks. “the view is beautiful out here, don’t you agree? i could certainly get used to this... hm, and the flowers are quite lovely too, i suppose.” you feel her long, slender fingers pull your hair back as she stands behind you.

you turn around quickly to face her, your eyes immediately fixating on her flushed face. “what do you mean? i’m not sure i understand.” she smiles and reaches for one of your hands, putting in in hers as she speaks. “i mean that, even among the variety of rare blooms in season and the sight of the city far peering behind the vines and trees, the most delightful sight i can see from here is you.” she carefully raises your hand to her lips and presses the most delicate kiss to the back of your hand, but not before making sure you were okay with it. “and, if i may ask and if you’re comfortable answering, how do you feel about me?”

you had an internal panic before raising your free hand to nadia’s cheek, and then her forehead to check her temperature. “nadia, have you accepted any drinks from anyone untrustworthy? oh, no, could it be one of the servants?! this can’t be,” you sigh, ready to storm back into the palace and interrogate every servant before nadia laughs and catches your wrist. “i can assure you i’ve not had any drinks spiked if that is your concern, mc. rest easy in knowing that.” you anxiously laugh and rub your forearm in self comfort, blushing and avoiding her eyes at all costs. “then, i guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you i feel the same way?” even when you muttered, nadia seemed to light up and clutch her chest. “ah, wonderful. what a joyous day this has amounted to be. tell me, darling,” she says, gently grabbing your chin to pull it upwards, so you can no longer avoid making eye contact. “shall we go back to the palace and celebrate?”

julian:

he is certainly in the same boat as you. he is whipped for you, head over heels - he loves you so much his heart aches at the mere thought of you, but he is completely unknowing about your reciprocated feelings. it was a miracle how long no progress had been made because both of you are (respectfully) too dense, even when the most blantant phrases happened to slip from him. as flirtatious and grandoise as he is, he’s blinded by his own feelings and thus cannot see yours. he can easily make flirtatious jabs and not be affected by it, but if you ever did, he’d flush and hide his face at all costs. “what’s on the agenda today, mc?” / “world domination.” / “ooh, ambitious, aren’t we? can i be your... partner in crime?” / “sure but, you’re my world.” / “OH!”

honestly, it took a lot, and i mean a lot of convincing from portia for him to admit his feelings to himself, and then he had to do the same thing over again but, this time, to you. so he planned on doing so while you both would go out to stroll around vesuvia, wherever you wanted to go. and, if nowhere in particular, he’d take you to the docks and sit with you there while you had lunch, letting your legs dangle in the water. he was so nervous and it was obvious - he was as stiff as a stick in the sand. you’d ask him what’s up, why he looked so tense, and he’d finally sputter it out.

“i-i really... i like you, a lot, you know. i know i’m probably a lot to handle, and you’ve put up with me for so long already, so i-i’ll understand if you don’t feel the same, you know? i just wanted to get this off my chest, it’s been eating me up for so long now, i-“ but you were already frozen, only breathing and kneading your hands through the cloth that laid over your lap. “oh, i shouldn’t have said anything, i knew this was a bad idea!-“ but you cut him off before he could finish. “did you take any potions from the shop or anything? anything that made you feel weird after?” he froze.

then he was breaking down in laughter. “a potion? mc, what do you take me for? a thief?” then you send him a look and a nudge and remind him of how the two of you met. he nods his head bashfully after granting you that point. “wow, i thought that you were going to reject me. i’m kinda glad that you asked me that question instead, though. unless, this is the part you reject me?” the look on his face as he asks has you grabbing your sides, nearly falling into the water from the intensity of your laughter. julian visibly eases and holds you, making sure you stay balanced. “are you kidding? can’t you see how much i like you?” he blushes, color creeping over his cheeks and even towards the tips of his ears. “i... didn’t know. if i did, i wouldn’t have tortured myself this long.” / “yeah, because that’s my job now.” he clasps his hand over his beet-red face, frantically looking around in hopes no one heard you. he certainly wouldn’t complain, though...

muriel:

it’s really a miracle that you ever get him to let something about his crush slip. he’s like you in the way that he couldn’t realize your feelings for him, and in that sense he was very thick. but, he still kept it to himself - not because he didn’t want anything to happen, or because he was afraid of whatever your reaction might be, but because he didn’t want (what felt like) his burden to become your burden.

he didn’t have anything planned the day he told you. honestly, he didn’t plan on telling you in the first place. it just... came out. before he could stop it. inanna laid under the table as the both of you sat across from each other, each working on your own projects - muriel, his widdling, and you, embroidery. you told him it was just something to do to occupy yourself, but, really, you were making him a gift basket, and this little embroidered pillow was one of the gifts. there was no occasion - you just wanted to give him something since he’d always tried to be so nice and open with you. a bit of a ‘thank you’, you suppose.

you finished perfecting the pillow and stood with it, turning to leave the hut. you had a basket outside with all of his other presents, hiding behind a rock that was near the creek that ran beside the hut. once you’d gotten it and placed the pillow inside, you plucked around until you were happy with the placement of all the items inside. and then, all you had to do left was give it to him. you walked in and placed the basket on the table, making muriel look up at you and halt his widdling. “what is this,” he asked as he sat his things aside, so he could give you his full, undivided attention. “surprise! i made you a gift basket. are you surprised? look inside!” you could hardly contain your excitement; you’d worked on this for over a month. there were pressed flowers, homemade candles and soap, a little painting of the forest, and a handwritten letter.

finally, he grabbed the letter after examining all the other items thoroughly, you could see a small smile teasing the corners of his mouth as he read it. a few silent moments later and he finally spoke, folding it back up. “thank you. this is really nice. really cute. reminds me of you.” he placed the letter back inside, not realizing what he said until it was already out in the open. “n-nevermind, i-“ but you were already interrupting him. “did asra give you something? did you drink anything weird, muriel?” he would have laughed if he wasn’t so embarrassed. “no, i meant it,” he grumbled. what was the use in denying it now? you wouldn’t let him live it down. you were so shocked, snapping out of it only moments later when you stepped forward to play with his hair softly. “awh, muri... you’re the cutest.” while you were distracted, he looked down at his lap to smile, just a bit. inanna looked up at him, knowingly. “liar.”

portia:

as adorable as she found your ability to turn even her riskiest flirt into something small or dismissable, it was quite frustrating. not because she didn’t respect you and the possibility that you might not return the feelings, it was more being frustrated by not being able to convey her feelings in a way that you would understand it’s severity, so you can make the decision from there.

before long, enough was enough for her so she decided to plan out a whole day to spend with you so she could finally tell you how she felt. first, you were going to have breakfast at her cottage by her window with the sun shining on your faces, then water on the garden a bit, and after that, go to the markets and look around. finally, she’d bring you back to the cottage where she would tell you everything. and, unexpectedly, she had a sudden great idea when her gaze fell on a bottle of ink while at the markets, and it might have taken some buttering up for you to agree, but no less, you agreed. and the minute you got back to the cottage, your fingers were smeared with ink as you both drew on one another.

you drew a shaky sketch of vesuvia on portia’s collarbones, and she told you that what she was writing on your hip was a ‘surprise’. you were more excited than anything else, you didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary, after all. today was just you and portia goofing off, per usual. only this time, ink was involved. “hey, hey! that’s cheating! you’re just tickling me now!” you were both laughing so much, the finger-painting was half of the fun. “uh oh, you caught me.” when you were both done, portia grabbed your wrist, rubbing ink all over your forearm as she dragged you to her bedroom, showing you the mirror that hung over her dresser. you played rock, paper, scissors to see who would go first. portia won.

“awh, mc! this is so cute! you’re so talented!” she cooed, and you knew she was just slapping it on at one point. the painting was all shaky and smudged from how hard you were laughing while making it. finally, she stepped aside and gave you enough room to reveal yours. you caught a glimpse of portia biting her lower lip and wringing her hands as you pulled your garments aside just enough to see her artwork. it read ‘portia ♡ mc’. you stared at it for a while, jaw slacked and silent. “i tried to find the best way to tell you, but it was hard. when i seen that ink well in the market today i got the idea, and it wouldn’t quite be me confessing if it wasn’t fun and silly, would it?” you looked over at her to see her still chewing her lip, only now paired with a blush on her face. “are... are you serious? are you sure you haven’t drunk anything... weird?” you ask quietly, only to recieve her most genuine confirmation. “nope, i’ve felt like this for a really long time. i just wanted to let you know how i felt.” you smile and return to looking at it in the mirror, finding it cuter as the seconds pass. “i feel the same way,” you told her, carefully placing your garments back in a way where they wouldn’t rub the ink. she ran up and brought you into a hug and you both stayed embracing one another for a long but comfortable while. until; “hey, um, are you ready to wash these off yet?” you shook your head, pulling back to look into her eyes. “i think i want mine tattooed,” you both giggled.

lucio:

you are not allowed to be oblivious to his feelings. he could say “wow, i really like you,” and you would say “yeah i like you too, you’re a really neat person.” cue the face where his eyes are all big and his mouth is open in an eternal screech. “no, mc, i really enjoy spending time with you, i like buying you the finest jewelry and exotic gifts just to give you something that you’ll enjoy wearing and know that it’s from me.” / “oh, cool! like friendship bracelets?”

and the day finally came where he decided he’d take you out to the palace gardens for a pleasant walk and a picnic date, so he could finally confess his feelings. after taking a little stroll and finding a nice spot to sit, complaining about all the little bugs and itchy pieces of grass tickling him, he’d break it to you. and not easily. “i really love you. i could seriously see us being together for the rest of our lives, couldn’t you? how do you feel about me? uh, mc?”

you were already freaking out. no way he was serious right now!!! was he? no!!! don’t be silly!!! this is obviously the work of... a love potion! “where did you find a potion, lucio?! did someone give it to you? you couldn’t have found it, right? oh no, did you drink something when we visited the shop the other day?!” he scoffed and pursed his little lips, crossing his arms like an angered toddler. “what on earth are you going on about? you’re talking about potions when i, the count of vesuvia, have confessed my undying love to you and proposed that we grow old together while i shower you in gold and exotic animals, and you’re thinking about a potion?!?!”

it was certainly quite silly once you heard it from his perspective, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his hopeless expression. “well, when you put it like that...” you start quietly, picking at the blanket laid beneath the both of you, seperating you from the most of the grass. “i feel the same way about you. i guess i just never noticed, until now.” he cooed, immediately throwing anything he might have had in his hands aside so he could wrap his arms around you, pulling you against him. “oh, how cute! let’s start planning the wedding. let’s have doves, and how about some rare, expensive wines and glassware, and...”

(a/n: 1. i just wanna say i can def picture y’all’s wedding n lucio putting the ring on ur finger n u go ‘but like, just as friends, right?’ just to tease him AHAHA and 2. wow i’m so sorry this took me so long!!! been loaded with work & life so i wanted to perfect this and it rlly stressed me out when i accidentally lost muriel & portia’s first draft but oh well. i’m too tired to proofread so i’ll check it in the morning. hope you enjoy!!!)

- jiah 💖

[suits]

closer to fine.

Can be read here on ao3

Words: 7.3k, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Relationship: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Fandom: IT 2017, IT 2019

Rating: Explicit

Tags:  Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Temporary Amnesia, Post-Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Richie gets his heart broken on a Thursday.

Richie gets his heart broken on a Thursday. He can’t even say he’s surprised. Confused, maybe. Definitely dejected. But not surprised. He's always had a hard time holding on to the good things in his life, so why should Eddie be any different? That doesn't make it hurt any less, though.

He wishes he could say it starts out like any other day, but something like dread makes a home somewhere deep in his chest when he's woken up at noon by two text messages from Eddie.

12:14 - Baby: We need to talk. 12:14 - Baby: Can I come over?

Nobody likes a "we need to talk" text, but cryptic undertones aside, since they started dating all those years ago, Eddie has never once asked for permission to come over.

He tries to brush it off. “It’s probably nothing.” Richie thinks to himself, laughing at his inane ability to jump to the worst possible conclusions, ever. “There’s plenty of shit he could want to talk to me about in person. Maybe he wants a dog, a little Pomeranian or something cute like him, or maybe he wants to move in together, or maybe he’s ready to take our relationship to the next level, or maybe...”

Richie sends back a quick “of course. see u soon” before he forgets, then busies himself with taking a quick shower and making a breakfast smoothie for the two of them.

It's 12:47 when Eddie knocks on his door. Eddie never knocks anymore. Richie gave him a key years ago so that he didn’t have to.

He opens the door warily, stepping back to let Eddie inside. His Eds was wearing a knit cap, and scarf to combat the harsh winds, and Richie was pretty sure that those were mittens on his hands, God his boyfriend was the cutest. “Eds,” Richie greets, going in for a hug and kiss, but Eddie shakes his head, grimacing a little. He steps back to put a little bit of space between himself and Richie.

“Let me start off by saying that I love you.” Eddie mumbles, staring at the carpet.

“Okay?” Richie prompts, confused. His eyes search Eddie’s face. “Eds, come on, my floor isn’t that interesting. Please look at me.”

Eddie does, and his eyes are wet with tears that haven't yet spilled over. ”And I know that you love me,” He continues.

“Yes,” Richie nods emphatically, “more than anything.”

Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath before soldiering on, “But this isn’t working out anymore. We’re,” He gestures between the two of them “not working out.” He doesn't say much more than that, doesn't try to explain himself. Richie wouldn't have wanted to hear it, anyway. “I’m sorry.”

It's one of the rare occasions that Richie Tozier has nothing to say. He nods slowly, mouth agape, like he wants to speak, but no words will come out.

They spend seconds or minutes, Richie has no idea, just looking at each other. Richie’s eyes were desperate and imploring, Eddie’s, glazed and distant. They're only standing a couple of feet apart but Richie's never felt further away.

Eventually, Richie breaks the silence, gesturing towards his kitchen. “Smoothie?” he offers weakly.

Eddie just looks at him some more. His eyes are sad, but his face is determined. He sighs once, and shakes his head ‘no’ before he turns on his heel and leaves. Richie can only stand there and watch, dumbfounded, as the love of his life walks out of his front door, and out of his life.

”But you love pineapple and spinach.” Richie whispers to the empty room.

He doesn't get a response.

+

Desolation and depression were old friends of Richie’s; in the sense that even if he could find a way to forget about them, ignore them, avoid them all together, all it took was one bad night and they were back in his life with an intensity like they missed him. They were good to him like that.

“ S' good to me. Than' you.” Richie slurs to his empty bedroom. “I missed you guys, too.”

He might’ve had too much to drink. It's been a while since he drank alcohol, and it's just really hard to keep track of how much you've drank when you’re not actually trying to keep track. The only thing Richie knows for sure right now is that he needs a lot more alcohol to make it through the night.

Richie checks his phone for the time, ignoring the unopened text alerts he’s been getting for the last two and a half weeks it’s been since Eddie dumped his ass out of the blue. It reads 1:17am, which means that he has about forty minutes until the dive bar closest to his place starts locking up.

It's a 15 minute walk, but he makes it there in 10.

“Richard.” His bartender (and sorta friend) Monty greets him when he stumbles through the door, limbs awkward and uncoordinated. “This is the fifth time I'm seeing you in as many days... and you look worse every single time I lay eyes on you. Anything you want to talk to me about? I can have this place cleared out in five minutes flat, just say the word.” A couple of people in the bar look up at that, but he pays them no mind.

Richie's touched. If he wasn't so fucking drunk already, he would've sat down and had a heart to heart with Monty about how the man he thought he’d marry someday just up and fucking walked out on him. But alas.

“Monty...Montague...Mont Everest... Mont-pel-er... You know like the capital of Virginia?”

“Vermont, but continue.” Monty corrects playfully, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“You say potato. Anyway, as much as I'd love to wax poetic about the five foot six inch cutie that broke my heart, I'd much rather forget that the last two weeks of my life even happened. What’ve you got for that?”

“Prayers, Richie. Lots and lots of prayers. But in the meantime,” he slides two glasses filled with something brown and strong towards Richie.

+

Had Richie not been such a fuck up, he never would’ve went to the bar that night. Had Richie not been so goddamn stupid, he probably would’ve noticed the group of men lurking in the alleyway across the street early enough to avoid them.

Had the alcohol not effected his judgement and sense of self-preservation, he wouldn’t have felt so tough, he wouldn’t have opened his mouth, he wouldn’t have started that fight.

Had Richie Tozier not been Richie Tozier for once in his life, he wouldn’t be laying on his back in a barely lit alley at 2:30 in the morning with at least a couple of cracked ribs, a possible punctured lung, and a head injury that was bleeding steadily.

Richie doesn't bother calling for help, wouldn’t be able to get the words out anyway.

He can't help thinking that if this is it for him, then there are worse ways to go.

“Worse than bleeding out in alley surrounded by trash and piss and shit and God knows what else? Richie that's disgusting.” a familiar voice in his head reprimands.

“Chill... Edward...Cullen,” Richie rasps, wincing in pain. It’s the last thing he remembers before the darkness overtook him.

+

Eddie makes the biggest mistake of his life on a Thursday. He never should’ve picked up his phone and texted Richie that morning, stressed off his ass, and mad at the world. He shouldn’t have put on his stupid coat, or got in his stupid car, waited in stupid traffic, to show up at boyfriend’s apartment to break up with him. And for what? Because Eddie was feeling insecure about how Richie felt about him? Because Eddie was worried (for whatever fucking reason) that Richie would get tired of him? He feels so fucking stupid.

People always assumed that Richie was the impulsive one in their relationship, acting before reacting. But Eddie knew firsthand that Richie is, and always has been, more calculated and levelheaded than he could ever dream of being. It took a lot to get Richie riled up, especially since he’d stopped drinking, but Eddie was constantly on a short fuse.

“Such a little ball of fury, you are.” Richie would tell him, pinching his cheeks. “Not enough room in your body to hold all your anger, Eds. So cute.”

“I’m not a little ball of fury and I'm not fucking cute, Richie!” He would yell back. And Richie would just smile at him like Eddie had just proved his point.

Eddie misses him the second he walks out of the door.

He decides to call Bill when he gets to his car.

"Hey Eddie, what's up?" His best friend greets, and the words come pouring out before Eddie has a chance to stop them. He talks until he's out of breath, and then he talks some more. He would've kept talking, too, if—

“I’m sorry,” Bill interrupts, “I must’ve misheard. You did what?”

“I broke up with Richie.” Eddie repeats, irritated.

“That son of a bitch—did he hurt you? Do you need me to—” But Eddie nips that one in the bud real quick.

“No, Bill, he didn’t hurt me. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bill’s voice sounds confused, “Then why?”

Because I’m a mess with chronic anxiety and self esteem issues and twenty-four years worth of emotional baggage and Richie deserves so much better than me? He thinks but doesn’t say.

“I don’t know, Billy. I really fucked up this time.”

Bill doesn't agree nor disagree with that statement. Instead he says, “It’s okay. You just need to figure yourself out, Eddie. Take some time to think about what you want, that's the most important thing. You have to be your first priority, or you'll never really be happy.”

“How’d you get so smart, huh, Big Bill?” Eddie asks, genuinely grateful that he has such a patient and protective best friend.

“Someone in this group has to be.” He chuckles, and Eddie curses him playfully.

They talk for a little while longer; about school, and work, and Bill’s upcoming date with Stan. After saying their goodbyes, Eddie's surprised to see that he feels a little bit better.

Bill's right; Eddie needs to figure himself out, get his head right. He knows it's gonna take a long time but he owes it to himself (and hopefully, someday again, to Richie) to be the best version of himself.

+

After a couple of days of moping and self-pity, things are starting to look up for Eddie. He isn’t necessarily enjoying “single life” but he's beginning to relish spending time on himself. He even takes a couple of days off from work to focus on his self care. He buys ginger tea and detoxifying face-masks and everything.

It's been two weeks and three days since their break up when a call wakes Eddie up out of a restless sleep.

“What?” he grouses at the unknown heathen who likes to call people at — he squints at his phone screen — 4:16 in the morning.

“Edward Kaspbrak?” A female voice intones.

“Speaking. Who is this?” He asks, immediately more alert.

“Marianne Nelson from Silver Lakes Hospital. There’s been an accident involving a Richard Tozier, and he has you listed as his emergency contact. How soon can you be here?”

+

Gays can’t drive, my ass Eddie thought as he pulls into a parking spot. He makes it to the hospital in record time and barely breaks any traffic laws to get there. No use to Richie if we both end up in the ER, he reminds himself.

Let it be known that Eddie Kaspbrak hates hospitals. Has ever since he was a kid. It's 100% due to the fact that his mother made him spend more time in emergency rooms and clinics than he did at school or with his friends.

That’s all behind him, though, at least for the moment, because the only thing on his mind right now is getting to Richie quick as possible. Marianne wouldn’t tell him anything over the phone, so he's completely in the dark, has no idea what kind of condition Richie is in.

“Edward Kaspbrak.” He announces when he reaches the receptionist's desk. “I’m here to see Richie Tozier. He’s my b—” Eddie cuts himself off. “I’m his emergency contact.” After his identification is verified, the receptionist politely gives him directions to Richie’s room.

Eddie doesn't exactly jog there, but it's a close thing.

He’s seen Richie sleeping in the past, countless times, but he's never looked so small before. And so pale. Richie's hooked up to all types of IVs and machines, he has cuts and bruises littering his face, and part of his head is shaved—but despite it all, he still looks very much like the boy that Eddie fell in love with so many years ago. He'd be reminiscing if he weren't so fucking scared.

“You can go in.” Calls a kind voice from behind him. Eddie nods without even looking to see who the voice belongs to, before he steps into the room and shuts the door softly behind him.

Eddie’s heart was going to beat out of his chest. Is that even possible? He thinks hysterically, then laughs a little, completely on edge. At least I’m in a hospital and they’ll be able to fix me right up. Good as new.

He makes himself as comfortable as possible, folding like a pretzel in the hospital chair. The room has magazines and a TV—for entertainment or distraction, he isn't sure—and there's coffee right outside the door if he needs it, but Eddie isn't planning on leaving any time soon. He stares at Richie’s sleeping face and hopes to God that he's resting well. “I’ll stay with you forever if you’ll let me." Eddie says, barely loud enough to be heard over the ventilators. “I'm so sorry, I won’t ever leave you again.”

He doesn’t get a response.

+

The first time Richie wakes up, he notices the lights. Too much, too bright, he thinks. They make his eyes sting and his head hurt, but he's out again before he can say anything about it.

The second time, Richie's more alert. He hears the steady beeping of machinery, smells the overpowering scent of clean, sterile. He can’t turn his head, though, can’t get his eyes to focus on anything, and before he knows it, they're fluttering shut again without his permission.

The third time Richie wakes up, there are big, brown eyes peering down at him. He recognizes those eyes before he can focus on the face they belong to. Eddie. Those heavenly brown eyes blink in surprise before they disappear from his line of sight. Richie vaguely hears yelling, but he can’t make out the words.

Next thing he knew, there're people all around him, nurses and various hospital personnel writing things down, and poking and prodding at him.

“Richard,” a voice that isn’t Eddie’s calls, “You won’t be able to talk just yet, but blink twice if you can hear me.”

Richie blinks twice, confused.

“Good to have you back with us, Richard. Do you know where you are? Blink once for no, twice for yes.”

Richie blinks once.

“You’re in the hospital. I’m Doctor Hasaan. You got pretty banged up the other night, but we’re going to take care of you. You’ve got some broken ribs, a subsequent punctured lung, and a pretty nasty concussion. Do you remember what happened?”

Richie blinks once.

“There was an accident, Richard. A pedestrian found you in an alleyway downtown, and called 911. I’m not surprised you don’t remember any of it, you hit your head pretty hard and your blood alcohol level was high when you were brought in." And that can't be right, Richie hasn't drank in years.

"Are you in any pain right now?” Dr. Hasaan questions.

It’s almost as if his question brings all of Richie’s sensory neurons back to life, and he's only just began to notice the aching pain in his head, throat, and chest.

Richie blinks twice.

“Alrighty.” The good doctor says, “We’ll give you something to help with that.” One of the nurses puts something in his IV. “Try to rest, Richard. We’ll have that tube out of your throat in no time, and you’ll feel much better once you can breathe properly on your own. Is there anything we can get for you right now? To make you more comfortable?”

Eddie, he thinks, bring him back in.

Richie tries to blink twice but his eyelids are so heavy, and then, in the blink of an eye, he's asleep again.

+

Richie wakes up with a start. His chest is tight and his throat is on fire and he can’t fucking breathe. He feels like he's drowning. Is he dying? Richie weakly struggles for a minute with the IV in his hand before a soft hand on his arm stops him.

“Richie, calm down.” Comes an angelic voice. He knows that voice. He loves that voice. “You’re panicking, it’s okay, baby.” The angel soothes.

Delicate hands hover around Richie’s face like they want to caress him, but are too afraid. God, what he wouldn’t give to have those hands on his face.

It takes him a second, but Richie is eventually able to come back to himself, focus his eyes on the man standing beside him, focus his ears on the steady beeping and mechanical breathing of the machines surrounding him.

He carefully reaches one trembling hand up to his mouth, onto the uncomfortable tube that was forced down his throat. Eddie gently slaps his hand away from his face.

“Don’t touch it, Richie. Relax, okay? Let me see if I can get your doctor in here.”

A couple of minutes pass before Eddie comes back into the room, smiling widely, while Dr. Hasaan follows a few paces behind him.

“Richard,” greets the doctor when he walks in, “Great news. We’re on pace to get you extubated today. I’m sure that thing must be bothering you, huh? The ventilator’s providing minimal support now, so most of that breathing is all you, kiddo."

Richie gives two shaky thumbs-ups, careful not to jostle the I.V. too much, lest he upset Eddie again.

+

It's got to be the most uncomfortable moment of Richie Tozier’s existence. The process doesn't take more than a minute or two, but there's a lot of choking, gagging, and saliva sucking—and not even in the fun way. Once the tube is out, though, Richie only feels relief. And a little sore.

“It’s all done, Richard, you did great.” The doctor praises, as he discards some tools onto the table beside him. “Hold still now, I’m going to insert an intranasal cannula, just to be safe...”

Richie lets the doctor do doctorly things while he lets his eyes roam around the room. They settle on Eddie, who’s been hovering anxiously on the other side of the bed. He's wearing a too big hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans. His hair is curly and unkempt, so unlike Eddie. His face looks relieved, but his eyes are so tired. So sweet staying here with me, Richie thinks.

“Alright. Why don’t you try and say a few words for me? It might be uncomfortable at first, but the more you work at it the easier it’ll get.” Dr. Hassan states reassuringly.

“Just like...the first time...I gave you... sloppy top...right, Eds?” Richie croaks, then he threw a wink in his boyfriend’s direction.

Eddie’s face twists in a strange combination of horrified amusement. He looks like he wants to laugh—or maybe cry—but instead he just purses his lips together and shakes his head. Richie grins back.

The doctor rolls his eyes and asks if Richie felt up to answering a few procedural questions.

"What's your full name?"

"Richard Tozier."

"What year is it?"

"2019."

"Who's the president of the United States?"

"I know...but don't make me say it."

“Excellent, Mr. Tozier," Dr. Hasaan chuckles, "you’re well on your way to health. Your lung and ribs should heal on their own in a couple of weeks, but there's no reason for us to hold you hostage here any longer. Your short term memory should come back to you gradually. You're set to be discharged no later than tomorrow afternoon. Because of the severity of your concussion, however, I'm going to ask that you have another adult at your home to monitor you for 48 hours."

"No problem, doc... I got my... Eddie Spaghetti to take care of me." Richie smiles as wide as he can without his lips cracking due to lack of hydration.

He doesn't notice the way Eddie's eyes shift guiltily to the floor.

+

Eddie might've been driving too cautiously.

"Eds...I know you're worried...but you might actually...be driving in reverse." Richie complains as another car speeds past them.

Eddie ignores him and grips the wheel tighter. I've hurt you enough already, I can't do that to you again Eddie thinks. What he says is, "Yeah, and if I speed up and hit a pothole and your stupid ribs slip and puncture your stupid lung again, then you'll be mad at me."

Richie laughs, but it's bitten off like it hurt him, and Eddie winces. "My Eds...always...so damn dramatic."

They spend the rest of the car ride in relative silence, save for the quiet humming of the radio, and Richie's occasional labored breathing.

"Oh, fuck." Richie voices miserably when they arrive at his complex.

"What?" Eddie asks, worried. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay, Eds." Richie reassures, "I just remembered...that I live on the third floor."

Oh, fuck.

"I'm not carrying you up three flights of stairs because your landlord is too cheap to get the elevator fixed." Eddie says, mostly serious.

"You couldn't...carry me up those stairs...to save both of our lives...Spaghetti head." Richie jokes, "Come on...little man...we've got some...climbing to do."

+

Eddie might not've had asthma when he was younger, but it sure as fuck felt like he did now.

Carrying their bags and about 30% of Richie's body weight feels like a workout, but he feels guilty almost instantaneously when he hears Richie struggling to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, baby." Eddie says, forgetting himself for a moment. He rubs his hands up and down Richie's back soothingly. "You okay?"

"Fine, Eds. Let's keep...going."

They make their way down the hall to Richie's door, where Eddie reaches under the "did you call first?" welcome mat to retrieve the spare key Richie keeps hidden there.

"Where's yours at...Eds? Need me to...get a new one made?" Richie asks, gesturing to the spare key in his hand, and Eddie blanches.

"No? No, I just left mine at my place. I'm an idiot." He lies, and Richie just looks at him kind of odd.

"That you are...Spaghetti Head."

Once they're inside, Eddie helps Richie settle comfortably onto the couch, before going to Richie's bedroom to drop off his bag.

"Bring me...my heating pad, please, Eds?" Richie calls with some difficulty.

"Yeah, sure, Rich!" Eddie calls back, but when he steps into Richie's bedroom, his heart hits the floor.

Now, Richie isn't the tidiest person alive, so Eddie's used to picking up after him a bit; sometimes folding his laundry, but it's never been like this before. There are empty bottles of alcohol littering his floor, half-empty food containers left open, clothes thrown haphazardly over almost every surface. This, Eddie knows, is what depression looks like for Richie. This is what it looks like when he's given up.

"I did this." He gasps quietly to himself, looking around the room in horror. "I did this."

"Eds?" Comes Richie's worried voice from his position on the couch. "You get lost?"

"Just gimme a minute, Richie!" He snaps, way harsher than he intends. Then much softer, "I'm sorry, babe, please just give me a minute, okay?"

Richie doesn't say anything else, and Eddie pulls himself together long enough to go to the supply closet and retrieve Richie's heating pad.

He hands it to Richie wordlessly, and Richie mutters a quiet "thanks". He looks at Eddie like he's a puzzle to be solved, and Eddie can't take it.

"What do you remember from before?' He asks, avoiding Richie's questioning eyes.

"From when?"

"What's the last thing you remember, Rich? Not... not in the hospital, but before that. What's the last memory you have of--of us together?"

There's a pause, and Eddie can see the gears working in Richie's head.

"Oh, I don't...I can't...um...I don't? The movies?" Richie tries. "We went to see that scary movie you wanted to see. The one...with the clowns." He looks so proud of himself, and Eddie's heart just shatters.

+

Richie's used to his boyfriend being weird; and usually he loves it, but there's something about the way Eddie's been acting since they left the hospital that has his hackles raised.

"Am I...missing something, Eds?" Other than the obvious, he doesn't add, "What's the matter?"

Eddie still looks crestfallen when he answers. "That was over three weeks ago, Rich."

"Yeah?" He asks, and Eddie nods miserably. "Holy fuck. I mean...we knew that there were...holes in my memory. Doc said...things'll come back on their own." He tries to sound reassuring, but Eddie's still frowning hard.

"Yeah, I know but...that's not...it's just that, um, I don't really, um, and—"

"Woah, dude, are you...having a stroke?" Richie interrupts, and Eddie puts his head in his hands and sighs.

"God, shut the fuck up, Richie, this is really hard."

Richie bites his tongue. "What's hard, baby? What's got you...so upset? Eds...whatever it is...it's okay. Talk to me."

"It's us, I mean, you and me, we're um," a pause, "we'renottogetheranymore." He finishes quickly.

That's a silly thing to say, Richie thinks. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Eddie starts, "that you and I aren't together anymore. We're broken up."

The sharp pain in Richie's chest has nothing to do with his broken ribs.

"I broke up with you?" He asks dejectedly, "Eds, I'm—" but Eddie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

"No, Richie, I broke up with you."

And there it is. Richie feels it like a punch to the solar plexus. Thats why Eddie's been acting so strange, keeping something like this from him.

"I don't...why?" He demands, chest aching to keep up with the heavy pounding of his heart.

"It doesn't matter, I should've never done it, I'm sorry—"

"It fucking matters!" Richie explodes. With great difficulty, he stands up off of the couch—wincing in pain during the process—so that he's looming over Eddie. "It matters." He tries again.

Eddie just stares up at him from his spot on the sofa. He shakes his head 'no', like he's resolved on keeping his mouth shut, and the anger is drained from Richie as quickly as it came.

"Why are you...here, Eddie?" He asks, exhaustedly. Just Eddie this time. Not Eds, not baby, just Eddie.

"Because you're hurt, and I need to make sure you're okay, and I—"

"Let me...guess. You feel...guilty?" Richie laughs mirthlessly. "Get out."

"No, Rich, c'mon, I'm here to help you."

"Just, go, Eddie. I'm going to go...take a very careful shower...and by the time...I get out...I want you...out of here."

"Rich—"

"Out, Eddie."

He walks carefully to the bathroom without waiting for a response.

+

Eddie doesn't leave. Fuck that, he thinks. Instead, he takes on the harrowing task of cleaning Richie's bedroom which he's labeled "The Depression Den" in his head. He starts with the clothes: grabbing piles and piles from the floor and Richie's bed and discarding them into their respective hampers. Once he's done with that, he takes care of the disposable trash; putting everything into bags that'll need to be tossed sooner rather than later. Lastly, he works on the beer cans, and liquor pints that are scattered all around the room. God, Richie must've really been on a bender. Eddie swallows his guilt for the time being and gets to working on separating glass from aluminum to recycle.

The shower's still running by the time Richie's room looks presentable. Eddie carefully, quietly places his ear up to the door. He can hear Richie humming softly and takes that as a sign that he's okay in there.

He makes his way to the kitchen to rummage through Richie's cabinets, trying to find something to cook for them, but Richie's cupboards and refrigerator are bare and depressing looking.

Take out doesn't sound so bad, Eddie thinks.

+

He's just getting off the phone with the Thai place when Richie comes into the living room

"You're still here." Richie croaks. His skin is still pink from his shower, and he's wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of Spiderman boxers. He's still a head taller than Eddie, but he looks so small, so young.

"Yeah, Rich, I know you're upset, and I understand its a lot, and I'm s—"

"You're still here...you didn't leave." Richie's voice cracks. "You didn't leave me." He takes a hesitant step towards Eddie, expression vulnerable. And oh, fuck, if Richie starts crying its going to set Eddie off too.

"I promised you I wouldn't." At Richie's confused glance, he elaborates. "When I got the call that you were in the hospital, I was so scared. They wouldn't tell me anything and I-I thought the worst. I thought I'd lost you. But then I went to your room, and you were sleeping. You were cut up and bruised," He eyes the healing bruises across Richie's face, desperately wanting to reach out and touch him "but you were alive. And I thought to myself 'I walked away from the best thing in my life, because I was scared.' Truth is, I didn't know what scared was until I saw you lying there, so still...so pale, machines breathing for you. So that night, I promised myself and you that as long as you'll have me, I'll be here. I won't ever leave you again. As long as I'm welcome in your home, and...and in your life, I'll—"

"Stay."

"What?" Eddie asks, eyes wide.

"Please...even if it's just for tonight...just, stay."

So Eddie does.

+

Richie does a lot of healing over the next couple of weeks. None of it is easy, but that's to be expected. He gets short tempered, and emotional as his memory clears, which the doctor tells Eddie is a "completely normal response to being concussed," but Eddie thinks it's more than that. Richie slowly begins to ease himself back into daily activities like driving, and grocery shopping for himself, relying on Eddie less and less with each passing day.

Eddie tries not to let that worry him.

It's a fair question, and one that needed to be asked, but it still makes Eddie choke on his coffee when Richie asks "So, why did you break up with me?" one day when they're sitting on the couch, watching TV with the volume down low.

"Um, Richie, I-" Eddie starts, then stops.

"Yeah?" Richie raises his eyebrows expectantly, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Eddie sighs. He owes Richie an explanation, he owes him the truth. "I was scared." Okay...so...baby steps.

"Of...?" Richie prompts, impatient now.

"You leaving me? I know it's so stupid, now, but at the time I thought you would get sick of me, and you didn't l—" he cuts himself off but its too late.

He doesn't miss the way Richie inhales sharply, and flinches like Eddie just slapped him.

"You thought I didn't love you?" Richie sounds so lost.

"No! I mean, yes, but no! I know that you loved me, remember? I told you that, and I knew it, it's just that, with my anxiety and everything, uh, it's like my head...was playing tricks on my heart and I had to leave, because if you left me I wouldn't be able to take it. And I know that's not an excuse, and I don't mean for it to be. I just, I never meant to hurt you, I swear. If I could take every word back, I would. I never- I'm so sorry."

"You're so fucking stupid." Is all Richie says, then louder, "God, you're so fucking stupid!"

That's fair, Eddie thinks.

Richie puts his hands on Eddie's shoulders, lowering his head until they're eye level. "I have never. Ever." He punctuates each word with a gentle shake to Eddie's shoulders, "Loved anyone the way that I love you. Not even close."

"Richie, I'm so-" Wait. "Love?"

"Yes!" Richie cries, exasperated. "Love, dummy. I love you! I never stopped loving you. Even when I was drowning myself in a bottle," It's Eddie's turn to feel like he just got slapped. "All I could think about was you. You, Eds. You're it for me, I think."

Eddie freezes, feels the tears well in his eyes before he can do anything about it. "You called me Eds." He cries, tearfully.

Richie grins in triumph. "I knew you fucking liked my nicknames!"

+

"God, I missed this." Richie moans in between kisses. He's got Eddie pinned down on his bed, breathless and panting beneath him.

"Richie, please." Eddie whimpers.

"Please what, baby?" He teases. "You want something from me, you ask for it."

Eddie squirms underneath him, dick already hard and leaking. "Please fuck me. Need it, need you." And Richie groans, grinding his hips down hard, eliciting a shaky moan from Eddie.

"Mmm, not yet, baby. Gonna take care of you. I'm gonna worship every inch of you."

Richie takes his time taking Eddie apart, finding all the spots that drive him crazy, and playing with them until Eddie's a writhing mess underneath him.

"Alright, Eds. Face down, ass up. C'mon chop, chop."

Eddie opens his mouth like he's about to retort—probably to tell Richie to stop ruining the mood or something—before he thinks better of it. He does as he's told, stripping down completely naked before laying face down on the mattress.

Richie hums in approval, kisses his way down Eddie's shoulders, along his spine, feels the tremors that are coursing through him.

"Please, Richie, I need more" Eddie whines, rocking his hips back.

"I know what you need, Eds. Let me give it to you, okay? Gonna make you come so hard. On my tongue and fingers, then on my dick, okay? You just gotta take it." He says it casually, like he's discussing the weather, and not taking Eddie apart piece by piece.

Eddie just whines again, and Richie smirks before he flattens his tongue, licking over Eddie in broad strokes before pressing his tongue inside. Eddie nearly shouts, hole fluttering around Richie's tongue.

There's nothing particularly romantic about the way Richie eats him out. It's wet, and sloppy, and Richie's got spit dripping down his chin as he licks into Eddie until Eddie's trembling at the intensity of it.

When Eddie's whines start getting high and needy, Richie takes pity on him, adding a finger in alongside his tongue, and Eddie groans appreciatively, fucking himself back onto Richie until he adds another.

When Richie crooks his fingers purposefully, searching out Eddie’s prostate, Eddie whimpers pitifully and tries to shift away. “Richie, please…” he begs, but Richie just pulls his mouth away and shushes him, keeping his fingers deep inside.

Richie knows Eddie simultaneously loves and hates getting his prostate fucked. Hates how vulnerable it makes him feel, how it leaves him shaking and non-verbal, even after he's come. Loves it for the exact same reasons.

“Relax, baby,” Richie soothes, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s hip. "I got you."

Eddie forces himself to relax, and soon enough, he’s whining and sobbing, fingers twisting the sheets, begging Richie for more.

"Good boy." Richie praises. He’s careful when he does this, not exactly gentle, but he doesn’t want to go too fast or hard and overwhelm Eddie, so he keeps his strokes long and purposeful, fingers brushing expertly over Eddie’s prostate. Eddie's hips keep shifting, like he’s not sure if he wants to get away from the sensation or get more of it, so Richie tightens his hand on Eddie's hip, effectively stilling him.

He keeps up his methodical torture for minutes, or hours, or days, before Eddie's granted any reprieve. Even if it weren’t for the almost hysterical whines Eddie’s emitting, the way that he’s clenching around Richie’s fingers, shaking like a leaf, would be enough to alert Richie that he’s close. He keeps Eddie hanging there on the verge of orgasm for a long time, drawing it out of him slowly, so slowly, with precise fingers pressing rhythmically against Eddie’s prostate. “Touch yourself, baby, you’re doing so good, make yourself come.” Richie urges, using his free hand to massage Eddie’s perineum when Eddie brings a shaking hand to his own leaking dick. It’s over pretty quickly after that.

Eddie’s uncharacteristically quiet when he comes, and Richie would be worried if not for the way Eddie’s muscles had locked up so tight before he started trembling something fierce.

Eddie had stayed like that for a few long moments, could do nothing but shake and gasp as his orgasm worked through him in a way that looked almost painful.

When it's over, Eddie drops like a stone onto the mattress, still trembling. Richie's quick to gather him in his arms, rearranging them as best he could so that Richie was against the headboard and Eddie’s head was resting on his chest. That's when he notices the tears tracks running down Eddie's cheeks as the man in question struggles to catch his breath. He runs soothing fingers through Eddie’s hair, waits for him to come back to himself.

"Oh my God," Eddie whispers, moments later, once his soul is back in his body.

"Okay, baby?" Richie asks, genuinely concerned, as he wipes at the tears staining his boyfriend's face.

"More than," Eddie gasps, "It's just a lot."

"Hmmm." Richie hums in agreement. He gives Eddie a couple more minutes to recover before he rearranges them again. This time, with Eddie on his back, legs spread wide around Richie's hips. "I'm not done with you yet."

Eddie looks up at him, eyes wide, and Richie grins. "Told you I was gonna make you come on my dick tonight. You want that, baby?"

Eddie nods enthusiastically, then gasps in shock when he feels Richie's open palm connect with his cheek.

"Use your words, Eddie. You want my dick, then beg me for it."

"Please, Richie, oh my God, please I want your dick, please give it to me, I need it." Eddie's shameless now, past the point of caring what comes out of his mouth.

"That's good, baby. I'll give it to you." Richie says, reaching into his nightstand for the box of condoms they never use anymore.

"Rich...what? Why?" Eddie asks, dubiously eyeing the box in his hand.

"Eds..I..if there was any-" But Eddie cuts him off, head clearer than it's been since they started.

"There was no one else, Rich, I swear, I didn't. You're it for me, too."

"Yeah?" Richie asks, tossing the box somewhere in the corner of his room, smiling down at Eddie.

"Yeah, stupid." Eddie promises, and Richie just has to kiss the grin off his lips.

-

Richie takes his time pushing in, making sure Eddie feels every inch of him until he bottoms out, hips flush against Eddie.

"Gonna make sure you feel how deep my love goes, baby. Never gonna have to worry again." Richie promises.

"Oh, my God." Eddie whimpers, eyes rolling back as Richie starts to fuck into him slowly.

It's so good, too good, and it's not long before Eddie's hard again. Richie takes notice and doubles his efforts, going from thrusting into Eddie to grinding their hips together, dick a constant pressure against Eddie's prostate. It's too much, too fast, and Eddie damn nears screams.

"Feel good, baby?"

Eddie doesn't respond. Just keeps making these little "ah, ah, ah" sounds like he's about to sneeze. "Oh, fuck, Richie, how are you doing this to me?"

He's crying for real now, taking big, sobbing breaths as his hands frantically grip the pillows, the bedsheets, the headboard, his own hair, anything he can to ground himself against the pleasure that's threatening to overwhelm him completely.

"Don't do that, baby, you'll rip your hair out." Richie chides, dropping to his elbows so that he can detangle Eddie's hands from his hair, and twine their fingers together.

He never once breaks stride, going back to fucking into Eddie deep and slow, each thrust bringing Eddie closer and closer to that point of no return.

And surely Eddie's going to explode. Surely, the human body isn't meant to withstand this kind of pleasure.

"You're so fucking good, Eds." Richie's pace is starting to get falter, tell-tale sign that he's close. "Gonna come for me again?"

Eddie nods senselessly, beyond words. He's pretty sure he's drooling.

"Then do it, Eds. C'mon." And Eddie's right there, so close to the edge, back arching completely off the bed as Richie takes him higher and higher and—

"That's it, baby, you're right there, God, I love you so much, Eddie."

"Say it again." Eddie gasps, fresh tears spilling over.

"I love you." Richie repeats.

"Again."

"I love you."

"Again, again, again!" Eddie shouts as he starts to come, untouched, across his and Richie's bellies.

"I love you, I love you so much, baby." Richie groans, and tumbles over the edge right alongside of him.

+

Eddie's nervous as Richie drives them to the restaurant; some overpriced Italian place that Mike wants them to meet at. It's not like he and Richie were avoiding the Losers; they still talked on the phone a couple of times a week, but in the light of recent events they had, admittedly, been spending a lot more time with each other. It's been the best and happiest weeks of Eddie's life, and that makes his decision ten times easier.

Months ago, Bill told Eddie to take some time to think about what he wanted.

He picked out a ring that very same day.

What he wants is Richie, always and forever. He's known that for most of his life.

He just hopes that Richie feels the same way.

+

The ring is heavy in Richie's back pocket as he and Eddie walk into the restaurant that Mike picked out. The rest of the Losers are already there, talking animatedly amongst each other. The conversation stops when they get to the table.

"Well I'll be damned." Mike says, like he didn't expect them to actually show up, he's grinning though, and Richie smiles back.

"Richie Tozier, back from the dead!" Bev exclaims, jumping out of her seat to hug him. He squeezes her tight, lifting her off her feet as he twirls her around. She laughs brightly, and it hits Richie like a brick to the face how much he loves this group of people. How, since they were kids, their little group of outcasts has been his one constant. Something he could always run to.

Bill and Stan smile at him knowingly, and he winks back.

Richie's always had a hard time holding on to the good things in his life, but as he looks around the table at all of his friends, at the man he hopes says yes tonight, Richie finds himself smiling at the realization that he's there's no way he could ever let this go.

[purest-love-deepest-pain]

aight so I have a lot of (mostly non-positive) thoughts on the new episodes of Doctor Who so lemme rant for a bit because I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.

(if you enjoyed the new episodes and liked the storyline/execution/whatever or you just don’t want to get into The Discourse TM, I wouldn’t recommend reading this post, but do what you want):

This rant is mostly for myself to rant a bit, but also to see if anyone else feels the same way, which, is kind of the point of Tumblr anyway but akshjajsa 

this isn’t an attack on Jodie as the Doctor or a “Chibnall ruined Doctor Who!!!!1″ type of post, but a measured critique on the aspects of the premiere of Series 12 that I really didn’t like.

This is only discourse on Spyfall Part 1 and Part 2, as I haven’t watched Orphan 55 yet.

Here we go.

First things first, the things I actually did like:

I actually only watched a few episodes of Series 11, so I’d just like to note I love Team TARDIS with my whole ass heart ahsjahsja they are great companions and have a great dynamic

I liked the concept of the mission they had to deal with it, even if I didn’t like the execution

Sasha Dhawan was EXCELLENT in this. The way his demeanor changes completely when he stops pretending to be O, his portrayal of the Master, everything about him here was great

The plot twist scene was great. The Doctor’s reaction, the Master’s child-like attitude and excitement, Team Tardis being confused af, it was really good from start to finish and Jodie and Sasha’s acting truly made it click. 

Jodie was also really excellent here btw. The way she portrayed the Doctor’s feeling of being frozen during the reveal scene perfectly, her finally getting to show off the Doctor’s darkness, her dynamics with the Master, her seeing Gallifrey in shambles, etc. She killed it

Ada Lovelace and Noor Inayat Khan were GREAT additions and I kinda wish they were full-time companions lmao. Also I ship Thirteen and Ada a lot tbh

The whole scene with the back-and-forth between the Doctor’s message and Graham and Graham landing the plane was hilarious. Graham used to be my least favorite new companion but I think he’s one of my faves now

Part 2 was overall much more fun than Part 1, and the characters were more entertaining as well

I mentioned this before when talking about Jodie’s acting, but seeing Thirteen finally go dark is great. I’m excited to see where this is heading towards, and from what I’ve seen, it’s gonna cause Team TARDIS some conflict, which was kind of overdue. I just really hope Chibnall can lower his ego and allow other writers to execute these concepts in ways he can’t throughout the series

I was also left genuinely intrigued by the whole Timeless Child thing and am looking forward to that so. Yeah.

Now, what I didn’t like:

First of all, it’s written by Chibnall himself and he’s the only writer. ‘Nuff said

The episode seems to take a bit too long to introduce the characters once more and show their daily lives before we get to the point or even first see the Doctor. Maybe that’s just me but idk

Like I mentioned, I like the potential of this mission. A CSI-esque episode but make it sci-fi/Doctor Who. My problem lies with the execution. It wasn’t a fun storyline, and after the Master reveal, it just feels like it’s sidelined and simply there as “oh look Doctor, you looked away and the Master started using ANOTHER alien race to get your attention AGAIN”. It didn’t feel fun either, since there was just. So much info-dumping and not enough answers. The problem isn’t that it was unoriginal, it’s that it was uninspired and boring

Not to mention the Kasaavin ended up being sidelined so much that everyone was just ??? kind of confused about them. Also I’ve seen some people say they are literally just the Cybermen 2.0 and I kind of agree

I got the vibe that “O” and Yaz were flirting and just. Ew. I do not fuck with that

Part 1 in general just felt completely boring and the storyline was so generic you could replace the conflict with literally anything else and keep the twist and it wouldn’t change a thing lol

Also, as happy as I am that we have a POC incarnation of the Master, I’m...conflicted. I am going to miss Missy a whole lot, and the Master going back to being a man is...kind of boring, but that’s not my issue. I understand that, after what happened with her, Missy might’ve given up on redemption and decided to go back to her old Master-y ways, specially with the whole Timeless Child thing, that was so traumatizing the Master felt obligated to destroy Gallifrey, BUT it feels like it just inutilizes Missy’s entire character arc during Capaldi’s run and introduces a new plot element just to make the Master go back to their old villanous ways. It’s sorta cheap

Speaking of cheap plot elements just introduced to retconn things Moffat did, we’ll get back to Gallifrey later

The scene with the Master telling the Doctor to kneel made me uncomfortable. Having Thirteen be the first female Doctor (and arguably the gayest Doctor at that) and then have the Master, her antagonist, be a man...meh. But then have him tell her to kneel and to essentially humiliate her by telling her to call him “Master”, that had my stomach a bit uneasy. Like, yeah, Simm!Doctor did much worse to Tenth, but the implications are much, much, different in this context. Idk, I personally was left uncomfortable by that scene

The Doctor turning the Master over to the N*zi officers was so, so fcking shitty like. I’m not mad at the Doctor, I’m mad at Chibnall for putting that in the fcking script. WHY DID HE THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA?????

The Doctor wiping Ada and Noor’s memories just felt so...unnecesary. Like, the Doctor has interacted with historical figures in the past and kept their memories intact (Agatha Christie comes to mind as an exception, though that was accidental). And besides, what for? Ada and Noor having memory of what happened interfered with nothing (I might be wrong on this as I kind of erased anything the Doctor said in that scene from my mind involuntarily lmfao but even so, I can’t come up with any good excuses that could be used there anyways, but if I am missing something notify me in the notes) and they don’t seem like the type to tattle about it or smth

Ah, and now we get to Gallifrey, or what I like to call, both the best and the worst example of what a retconn is. Listen, it doesn’t matter whether you liked Moffat and/or his decision to bring back Gallifrey, but you have to agree this is ridiculous. Chibnall didn’t want to have to deal with what Moffat left him with (a restored Gallifrey and the implications of that) so he had The Master just destroy Gallifrey by himself and discarded it like a chess piece, like. Am I the only one legit dumbfounded by this???? First of all, it took the Daleks an entire war to attempt to destroy Gallifrey, and they actually failed in the end, and yet the Master destroys it by himself, no stress. I legit don’t get it. Listen, I have mixed thoughts on Moffat’s decision to do so and I hate Hell Bent as much as the next person, but this is Chibnall discarding yet ANOTHER arc. That’s two arcs in one premiere. Wow. It legit sealed the deal for me that this premiere was a hot mess.

That’s it (that’s it, she says, after writing a whole essay). Again, this is not an attack on Chibnall’s Doctor Who, Jodie as the Doctor or me telling you how to feel about this episode. My opinion seems like an unpopular one from what I’ve seen but I stand by it lol. 

As a closing statement, fingers crossed that Chibnall lets other people write too this series lmfao.

(This is my first indepth critique of anything here so, hum, if you disagree, please be kind akhjahsjahs I doubt this will get much notes anyways but)

[everythingcollided]

More Than A Fan [Peter Parker]

Request:  Hello beautiful! May I get a Peter x Reader where he’s completely SOFT™️ for her and once she finds out about her best friend being Spidey she can’t help but wear/buy all the Spidey merch available? With fluff and flustered Pete? Love you lots! ❤️

Word Count: 2,153

Warnings: Swearing, slight sorta severe pining 

A/N: I was so excited to write this cause the request was absolutely adorable! Thanks to @beautiful-writings for basically being my beta reader she’s amazing! 

It’s been three days.

Seventy-two hours since she’d wrapped her arms around him in their customary hug, the comforting smell of her shampoo clouding his senses and lulling him into the safety he only ever felt around her, breath puffing right over his heart. It was normal, and Peter never expected it to stop only hours later.

He kept on seeing her face in the rain where she’d caught him maskless under the awning of a shop he couldn’t remember, hair stuck to her cheeks and neck, eyelashes lined with raindrops. She looked as delicate as a flower in the darkness, almost too stunning to be real, and Peter’s guilt clashed with the need to get her someplace warm and dry.

“I need some time,” she’d said, like a knife to his chest.

And then she walked away. Peter had never thought about how much he’d miss those hugs until she wasn’t there to give them.

Three days.

Aunt May kept on asking him if he was alright when he came out of his room with darkness under his eyes and he always said yes because he knew how much she loved her and he couldn’t bear to disappoint another woman in his life with how stupid he had been. She offered up a movie night complete with three bowls of popcorn anyway.

It was on the fourth day, when he’d just finished eating his breakfast, that his phone vibrated.

‘Can you come over?’ the text read, her name written at the top followed by the yellow heart that guaranteed he wasn’t imagining it. She really wanted to see him.

He didn’t even answer, rummaging through his closet for a sweater and barely having it over his head before charging downstairs and unhooking his bike from the rack. He completely zoned out on the ride over, going from muscle memory alone.

He was so scared that she was going to leave him. Maybe five months ago he would’ve been able to handle it; when she was just a girl with pretty eyes and a kickass sense of humor. When she was just his best friend who made his stomach feel weird, who for some reason he couldn’t even see the same as he saw Ned even though they were both equally important to him.

Five months ago he could’ve taken the blow because hey, he’d lost friends before and it hurt for a while but he still had Ned and MJ and they’d do their best to help him forget about her. Five months ago he was helplessly oblivious to the fact that his feelings for her were in no way wholly platonic and that everything she did put hearts in his eyes.

Now, the thought of losing her made Peter feel like he would be blown into thousands of pieces and he wasn’t going to let that happen. She was going to let him explain why he kept his identity from her for so long, and she was going to understand.

She was going to understand.

Peter’s heart is thrashing around his chest, thumping with the beats of his knuckles against the wooden door as he knocks. It’s warmer than he thought outside, or maybe that’s just his body heating up from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He balls the edge of his sleeve into his palm nervously, tapping his feet against the faded welcome! mat, feeling anything but.

The slight creak of the door as it opens sounds loud in his ears and he jumps, eyes darting to the figure in the frame and widening in turn. There she is, the crinkles at the edges of her eyes the first thing he sees and the large t-shirt she wears the second.

It’s bright red, with a cartoon version of Spider-Man swinging across the front. His name is etched down the long sleeves swallowing her arms in bold letters and Peter almost has to squint with the sunlight reflecting off of the material.

“So, question,” she starts casually, rocking on her feet - which are clad in socks that resemble that part of his suit flawlessly - and not at all appearing mad like Peter had expected and prepared for. “You wear boxers, right?”

He’s dazed by her attire and it takes him a moment to realize what she’s just said, cheeks coloring. “Yeah? Yes, I do. Why?”

She nods, ponytail swishing. “Great. Come on.”

And then she’s pulling him by the hand into the house he’s been in so many times he has it memorized, down the long hallway decorated with pictures of her with missing teeth and pigtails, of the two of them with their arms around each other holding participation ribbons at a science fair with gigantic grins, and into the living room.

There are bags littering the carpeted floor as well as the coffee table standing in the middle of the room and the couch. Boxes peak up out of the abyss here and there, tops ripped open and dropping styrofoam peanuts over the ground.

“Shit, I forgot what box they were in,” she mutters, gracefully weaving through the mess. Her shirt rides up as she rummages through a box and Peter spots web designs crawling over her shorts.

“What is all of this?” He finally asks.

“Did you know that Stark Industries owns this whole Spider-Man brand? They have, like, everything.” She’s practically inside of the box now, balancing on one leg as she submerges her limbs in search of...boxers, was it? Her voice echoes against the cardboard and Peter decides to help her before she hurts herself.

He wades through the plastic and moves behind her, pressing a hand to her back to let her know he’s there. She sends him a grateful smile as she moves to give him room. “Mr. Stark didn’t say anything about...a brand?” She hums in confirmation at the questioning edge, Peter’s chest filling with warmth at the thought that Mr. Stark would do such a thing for Spider-Man, for him.

His hands brush against fabric in the sea of green and pink peanuts and he latches onto it. She chuckles at the product. “See, boxers!” Little Spider-Men are swinging around the dark blue background. “I also ordered sweatshirts, shorts, socks, pillows - they have pillows isn’t that cool? I think I got a few bras too.”

Peter flushes at that and sends her an incredulous look. She glances at him, eyes widening when she’s realized what she just said. “I mean, they were available.”

“You bought all of this stuff?”

“Of course.”

Peter feels that little gnawing at his stomach again, the same one he’d felt days ago. He looks around at all of the packages, and the thought of how much money all of it must have cost makes him wince. “Why?”

She furrows her eyebrows, fingers fiddling with the edge of her sleeve in the way she’s always done when wearing long sleeves. “Well, why not?”

Peter runs a hand through his messy hair. “You said you needed time,” he hates how fragile his voice sounds in the quiet room, how easily she gets under his skin. “You haven’t talked to me at all and now you’re acting like everything’s fine and I’m just...really confused?”

She seems to slouch into herself at his words, eyes softening. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth and she takes her time in bringing her gaze to Peter’s. She takes a step forward, a question sparkling in her eyes, and he finds himself nodding. All he’s wanted is for her to be here, to be on good terms with him, and he knew he’d do whatever she needed to get there.

She circles her arms around his waist and lays her head against his chest. Briefly, he wonders if she can hear how fast his heart is beating, but she speaks before he can fully freak out about that. “I’m sorry. It just took a lot of processing. I mean, first I had to deal with the identity thing, and then there’s also the constant worrying I’m going to have to deal with because I know you’re gonna get hurt, you idiot.”

There’s a pause, and her voice lowers.

“I was mad for a bit. Hurt, I guess. That you didn’t tell me. But then I thought about everything you’ve done for me and hated myself for ever thinking about ditching you for saving the world. So, instead of being the worst best friend ever, I decided to hit the internet and get some merchandise so that I could be your biggest fan.”

Peter twirls a piece of her hair around his finger, pulls her tighter against him. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

She lifts her head to look at him, eyes narrowing as she observes the contours of his face. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

He does, but the past three days show something different than that promise and she must see the confliction on his face because she frowns and takes a step back.

She runs her hands over her face and sighs. “Peter, I know what I did, it hurt me too, okay? But I didn’t want to try talking to you when my emotions were all over the place. I could’ve said anything and I wanted to be sure that I wouldn’t dumbly ruin this because I hadn’t given myself enough time to let it sink in.”

“Please understand,” she begs, digging into a ripped bag and producing a shirt identical to her own. “Don’t let our matching shirts go to waste.”

Peter cracks at that, laughing and reaching for the article of clothing. “Seriously?”

Her lips lift in the grin she’s been trying to hold back, shrugging. “It might be a little big, but, yeah. Seriously. We can be Spider-Man’s biggest supporters.”

“Ned’s gonna want one too.”

“I ordered four. Just in case MJ wants one too.”

Peter unfolds it, heart bursting. He should’ve known that she wouldn’t abandon him, that instead, she’d do something like this. She always found ways of sweeping his feet out from under him and leaving him dumbfounded.

All of that guilt and worry from the previous days fizzles into nothing. Peter’s stuck just standing there and staring at his best friend, wondering how he found someone like her that chose to handle him on a daily basis.

“So,” she starts, clutching a white pillow with Spider-Man illustrations to her chest, eyes wide and vulnerable. Peter’s heart skips a beat. “Am I forgiven?”

It’s in that moment that Peter almost crosses the three steps separating them and presses his lips to hers. It’s a quick wave of emotion that’s gone as fast as it came and his stomach sinks a bit when he realizes he has no right to do something like that.

Peter pretends to think over, mostly so that he can get his brain back on the right track and away from her lips. “Did you get sweatpants?”

Her expression morphs into a mix of a smile and agitation. “Yes.”

“Then yeah,” Peter’s face heats in the intensity of her smile. “Just don’t spend this much money on me again.”

“Would I be a proper fan if I didn’t have the merch? I don’t think so.”

“You don't have to have merch to be considered my biggest fan.”

She shrugs and tosses the pillow at his chest. “It’s a bonus.”

He throws it back. “An expensive bonus.”

“Oh, just admit you love me, dork.” She retaliates by hitting him in the shoulder and though it’s harmless, her words catch him off guard.

“I love you,” Peter says, and it’s blurred on a line between best friends and something more and it scares him how close it is to the latter.

But she’s naive to it all, balancing the pillow on top of his head with a smile on her lips that makes him feel like the luckiest person in the world. “That’s more like it.”

She steps back and claps her hands together. “So, you gonna help me unpack or what?”

“You only called me over here to be your slave.”

“No. I called you over here to apologize, and to prove how awesome of a friend I am.” She crosses her arms. “And for you to be my slave.”

Peter blows air out of his nose. “Only because you’re my biggest fan.”

“Can I get you saying that in the suit on video?”

He gives her a look.

She puts her hands up. “Okay, fine. Kidding. Let’s get working, Spider-Boy.”

They work fluidly and have everything stacked in piles soon enough. She nudges him and jokes about them starting a fan page and Peter can’t help but think they’ve made a step towards something. Maybe it’s what he wants it to be towards, or maybe not.

But it’s something.  

[aspiringarmstrong]

Star vs. Destiny - Chapter 14 (Completed)

Marco drifted back to consciousness. He felt a cold cloth on his head and both hands being held.

“Wha…” Marco said, as his vision returned. Jackie and Star sat over him, staring at his face.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Star said, grinning ear to ear.

“Took you long enough to wake up,” Jackie said and flicked his forehead.

“Ow!” Marco said in protest, rubbing his forehead. “What was that for!”

“Do I need to list the reasons?” Jackie said and flicked his forehead.

“That’s for running off after being a jackass.” She said and flicked him again.

“That’s for deciding to fight Toffee by yourself,” she said and looked up at Star with a grin. “Why don't the two of us make a list, and then we can flick Marco’s forehead until we’re both satisfied.”

Star nodded her head in agreement.

“Why do I feel that the two of you conspiring will not turn out well?” Marco said, pulling the covers up to his chest.

“As princess of Mewnie, I authorize a stay of execution until a later date on the condition of hugs,” Star said.

“I second it,” Jackie replied. They both tackled Marco. He wrapped his arms around Jackie and Star, feeling their embrace.

“Don’t ever do something stupid like that again,” Jackie said. “We thought we lost you.”

Jackie kissed his forehead and sat up, wiping tears from her eyes. Star stayed the way she was.

“I’ll go check on Tom,” Jackie said. Her voice wavered a bit as she got off the bed and left the two of them alone.

“Um…” Marco said confused, as Jackie shut the door. “Star?”

“Shut up.” She said and covered his mouth with her hand. Marco relented and let her stay, resting her head on his chest.

“This is what you did for me right?” She asked. “When I was poisoned with that curse. You stayed next to me the whole time.”

“Yeah…” Marco said. “Well, except to use the bathroom and shower. I think the place would get pretty ripe if I didn’t”

Star sat up and looked him dead in the eye.

“I was supposed to shower, too?” They looked at each other and snorted a laugh together. Star rested her head on his chest once again. He ran his fingers through her hair but pulled his hand away.

“Why did you stop?” Star asked as she rubbed his chest.

“I… Jackie and I broke up… well, we never said it, but I did something stupid.” Marco admitted. “I don’t think she’d take me back… and I don’t think I want to have her take me back.”

“Oh…” Star said, running circles over his chest.

“We… she… umm… anyway, I said something dumb and realized… uhh… god. I can go toe to toe with Toffee and not worry  about my life, but I can’t say anything to you.” Marco lamented.

“Since you saved the kingdom and destroyed Toffee,” Star said, “I’ll give you a small push.”

She looked up at him with her stunning blue eyes and smiled.

“Jackie and I already talked and worked things out,” Star said. “Nothing happened between Tom and I… I was mad. I heard the two of you in that room. Not… not all of it, but I felt like I was going to die. I sorta insinuated with Tom we were about to do something when I saw you.”

“Star…” Marco said, tears welling up in his eyes. Star pulled herself up from his chest and straddle him over his covers. She held Marco’s face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his.

“Say anything you want.” She whispered. “I’m here to listen.”

“I love you, Star,” he whispered. Marco felt her lips against his. Her tiny body slid down and rolled next to him, resting her head on his arm. They were still separated by the covers Marco had on him, but this was enough. Kissing her, and holding her. He felt that he would protect her the rest of his life, and she would be there to do the same.

OoOoO

Tom sat up in bed in a guest room at Star’s Castle. He looked at his palm and focused all his effort and a tiny flame lit up.

“Cool party trick,” Jackie said with a chuckle.

“It’s all gone,” Tom said with a smile. “The voices, the anger, the pain I feel in my chest constantly… I don’t know how Marco did it, but they’re all gone.”

“When he stabbed you through the chest with the wand sword thingie…” Jackie said while sitting at the foot of his bed. “It was like from a horror movie. All these souls erupted from your body and filled the sky. Then Marco used his sword as a sort of lightning rod to pull them all into him.”

“Marco took my demons?” Tom said, astonished.

“You know… when guys say they have demons… usually, it’s a joke or just some emo attention thing.” Jackie said with a chuckle. “But you seriously had some issues pent up.”

“Where did they go?” Tom asked, “Did Marco keep them?”

“Well, he did a fire vortex around Toffee, and the souls replaced the fire… he said this weird spell that took the black off his armor and engulfed everything; fire, souls, Toffee. Basically, they were wiped out from existence.

“It was the Darkest Spell,” Star said at the door. She gave Jackie a smile. Jackie got up and gave Star a hug. “Marco’s feeling better, you guys should talk. I need to talk to Tom.”

Jackie wiped a tear from her eye. She must be relieved Marco’s okay. Why did he sense a foreboding aura?

Star sat down on Tom’s bed and held his hand.

“I’m so glad you’re alive.” She said, rubbing his knuckles. “How’s your chest?”

Tom pulled up his shirt to show a seven-inch scar. He has one on his back too.

“All patched up!” Tom said. Star leaned over and held him. Tom closed his eyes and enjoyed the waves of euphoria that cascaded from her touch.

“I’m all better Star!” He said as she lifted up her head. “No more trapped souls, no more demons in my mind. I’m better… and I can be better for you!”

Star gave him a weak smile and put her hand on his cheek.

“I’m so glad.” She said. He moved to kiss her, but she pulled back.

“Wha…” Tom said. “What’s wrong?’

Star couldn’t look him in the eyes. She hugged herself and seemed to be looking for the right words.

“But… the other night on the observation tower.” Tom stammered. “I… we kissed, you said you picked me. Marco’s with Jackie!”

“Tom… it’s just that…” she started to say.

“NO! I died for you! I had a sword through my chest protecting you! You go… you go and take Marco! The one who killed me?” Tom screamed. “It’s not fair!... it’s not fair Star.”

Star held him as he let loose years of tears and rage he bottled up. If he let this go… all of mMewnie would be on fire. Star didn’t say anything. Just held him and let him cry. For the first time in his life… he was able to really cry.

He didn’t know how long he was a blubbering mess, but for once… when there was nothing left. He looked up at Star. She smiled and wiped away his tears.

“That… is something that always held us back,” Star said. “I loved the fire and passion you had, but you always had to keep up that wall. I know it was for everyone’s sake… but that’s why we never fully worked.”

“The wall is gone now,” Tom said. “Marco…”

“Yes… Marco.” Star said. “Marco may have been a dumb idiot for doing what he did… but could you say you wouldn’t have done the same thing?”

“I guess,” Tom said. “He did save the world… so why wouldn’t  you want to choose him.”

Star flicked his forehead.

“Oww!” Tom said rubbing his wound.

“Why are boys such idiots?” Star said. “I’m not choosing him because he won, or that he beat Toffee, or that he’s cooler or better looking than you. If I had to put you both together… it’s a pretty even match up. I mean, he doesn't have horns and a third eye, so that’ counts against him.”

“Yeah…” Tom said with a chuckle. “And that stupid red hoodie he always wears… OW!”

Star flicked his forehead again.

“Why do you keep doing that!?” Tom protested

“Jackie taught it to me.” She said with a grin. “We’re not Marco bashing here.”

“So… why him over me?” Tom asked.

“It’s hard to put into words,” Star said. “We’ve been friends since I went to earth. He’s never fought unless he’s had too, but when he does, he’ll stand up for what’s right. He knows when I’m sad, and knows what to say or do to bring a smile to me… but he also knows when to leave me alone. He never tries to fix things for me, but shows me how to fix them and supports my crazy ideas, even if he protests the entire time.”

Tom felt dumbfounded.

“He’s only known you for less than a year,” Tom said, more to himself. “I could never understand what to do when you’re upset or sad.”

“I know you tried.” She said. “I do love you… but I need Marco in my life and by my side.”

“If… that’s what you want.” Tom said.

Tom winced as Star flicked his forehead again.

“What was that for!” Tom protested, rubbing his forehead.

“I dunno.” Star shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve done something I can’t remember that warrants it.”

OoOoO

Marco looked up as Jackie came back in.

“Heya,” Marco said, not wanting to lock eyes with her.

“Yeah… so you kinda went crazy didn’t you?” Jackie asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah… I guess I did.” Marco said. “It all worked out though… master plan! Remember?”

“Stop kidding around,” Jackie said and sat on his bed. “That whole thing stunk of bad choices and even worse corrections. If one thing went wrong, it would have been the end of the world.”

“Yeah… I did kinda lose it.” Marco said while sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “OWW!”

Jackie flicked his forehead.

“Star and I agree this will be the best way to get things through your thick head,” Jackie said and flicked him again.

“Okay! I get it!” Marco said, rubbing his forehead. “How can that hurt more than being punched by Toffee?”

Marco’s smile faltered and was attacked again.

“Don’t,” Jackie said.

“I didn’t say anything!” Marco retorted.

“I know that look. You’re feeling guilty.” Jackie said. “I’m fine… we’re all fine.”

“I’m glad… Just…” Marco was about to say something when Jackie kissed him. Marco felt panic, but relaxed, feeling her mouth on his.

“I just wanted one l-last one,” Jackie said with a small stutter. “You… haven’t really broken up with me yet, so I’m still your girlfriend.”

Jackie laid on his chest and held his hand.

“Watching you today… I saw you.” Jackie said. “The real you, the knight Marco who will do anything to protect the ones he loves.”

“I love you, Jackie,” Marco said. “For as long as I’ve known you.”

Jackie nodded and wrapped her fingers in his hands.

“But… you love Star more,” she said. “Seeing you today… She told me what it must have taken to keep control. You could have been lost to that wand.”

“I wish… I didn’t have to choose.” Marco said. “Is that stupid?”

Jackie let out a small giggle.

“Not if Janna has her way.”

“Say what now?” Marco asked.

“Besides… it’d be fun and all for like a month.” Jackie said, holding up his hand. “I don’t think you’d be able to deal with that… and we’d get jealous of you… and then Star and I would fight… then we’d make you watch us make up.’

Marco’s mind almost broke at the image Jackie was painting. She flicked his forehead.

“Owww!” Marco said. Jackie let out a spurt of laughter.

“You’re way too easy… safe kid.” She said as she sat up. “You need anything?”

Marco gingerly stood up out of bed. He noticed he was wearing silk pajamas with the Butterfly crest embroidered on the breast pocket.

“Legs are still wobbly,” Marco said. “I needed to use the little boy's room.”

Jackie got out of the bed and put his arm around her shoulder.

“You’ve carried us so far,” she said. “Let me carry you some.”

She led him into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Jackie… you can go now. I can take it from here.” Marco said.

“What?” Jackie said innocently. “You’re far too injured.”

“What are you doing Jackie!” Marco protested.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. This is purely clinical.” Jackie said. She giggled the whole time he shoved her out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it behind her.

OoOoO

Marco walked through the gardens around the castle. His legs still were weak from his ordeal and had to use a cane to get around for the time being. His parents had fussed over him for the last week even though he insisted he was okay. He used his free time to make up all the school work he missed. Most of the lessons he’d already studied for before his trip, but he didn’t want to feel left behind.

He walked over to the new fountain memorial. A regal looking Ludo stood stoically on top as water spouted below his feet.

Ludo:

Bringer of peace

between Monsters and Mewmans

May his soul rest easy.

Marco laughed to himself when he remembered his battles with Ludo. Thinking of BuffFrog and his reaction to killing that eyebat… he must be devastated. He heard his friend took over for Ludo and was acting the liaison between Monsters and Mewnie. He looked forward to seeing him soon.

He wished he could have saved him. Glossaryck who appeared out of nowhere explained to him that the curse from the dagger, regenerations from Hekapoo and the damage he got from the fight was too much for his body to handle. No amount of healing was fixing him. He was broken in all sense of the word.  

“Sup,” Tom said, standing next to Marco while he looked up at Ludo. “They did a good job.”

“I tried so hard when I was that knight,” Marco said. “It took everything I had to pull my punches.”

“Even with me?” Tom said with a chuckle. Marco’s face remained sullen. “Crap…”

“Is that what it’s like… was like… holding in all that power? Straining for every movement so you don’t hurt or kill someone?” Marco asked.

“I think you had it slightly tougher than me, but yeah.” Tom nodded. “I could hear them. Their anguish and egging on. They wanted to watch the world burn to pay back everyone who hurt them.”

“I hated to do it… but they’re gone now.” Marco said. “Most of them weren’t bad, just hurt and confused.”

Tom nodded in agreement.

“It’s weird… not hearing them.” Tom said. “I grew up with their voices. Now I feel like I’m alone.”

Marco turned to Tom and smiled.

“I did save the best one though,” Marco said with a chuckle. Tom blushed. Marco opened up his arms and smiled. “Come on… we all hug friends around here.”

Tom blushed and looked around to make sure no one was looking. He was pulled into Marco’s arms and hugged him back.

“See? You’re not catching on fire.” Marco said with a chuckle and let him go. “And you’re not alone. You have us.”

Click.

There was a flash from the bushes.

“Wha-?” Marco said looking around. Tom looked just as confused. Jackie and Star stood up from the bushes, leaves and sticks poking out from their hair.

“TomCo confirmed…” Jackie said with a giggle and held out the photo on her phone.

She timed it just as Marco let go of Tom. They both were in mid-blink, with the setting sun behind them and their faces were inches apart… looking like they were about to kiss.

“JACKIE!” Marco screamed “Jackie! What are you doing?”

Marco stumbled forward, just as he lost his balance Tom caught him in his arms. The demon locked eyes with Marco, his face filled with worry. Marco blushed and looked away.

Click.

“Send me that one!” Star said clapping eagerly… “Oh! Send it to Janna!”

“What? Oh god, no! Star! Make her stop!” he said, pulling himself from Tom’s arms and grabbing his cane. He limped awkwardly toward the two girls in a panic. His heart sank when he heard the bwoop sound of the text being sent.

A few seconds later, he could feel his phone blowing up in his pocket.

“Jackie… you are eviler than Toffee.” Marco said.

Jackie and Star gave him a raspberry and ran off giggling.

“Those two are lively as ever,” he said, shaking his head.

“Jackie is kinda cool,” Tom said sheepishly. Marco looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh… nothing.” Marco said and walked away.

“Hey… Marco… what was that look?” Tom asked catching up to him.

“I just know that look,” Marco said with a smile.

“What look?” Tom said.

Marco turned to Tom and bowed.

“You have my blessing,” he said and walked away.

“What are you talking about Marco?” Tom said, clearly confused and agitated.

OoOoO

Queen and Star Butterfly sat in one of the many meeting halls. The Magic High Commission gathered once more. Glossaryck was back and had restored Omnitraux Rex to his glowing floaty head-orb thing.

“I wish to bring this session to order,” Glossaryck said with an authority Star had never seen. The rest of the members sitting around the table stopped talking to one another and looked at Glossaryck

“How goes the fixing the portals around Ludo’s Castle?” Glossaryck asked Hekapoo.

“It’s done… took forever.” she lamented. “Twerp had some weird ideas I might actually be able to use tho.”

Glossaryck turned to Lekmet.

“Has King Butterfly recovered?” he asked.

“Blaatt”. Lekmet said. Glossaryck nodded.

“I’ve scoured the universe” Glossaryck announced. “Toffee is no more.”

Queen Butterfly let out a sigh of relief.

“Glossaryck…” Queen Butterfly said. She looked nervous and fidgeted with her gloves. “About Marco… how was he…?”

“Able to control the power of the wand?” Glossaryck answered. “How was he able to cast the darkest spell and not be destroyed?”

Queen Butterfly nodded. Glossaryck shrugged.

Star let out a small snort of laughter. The look on her mother’s face was priceless.

“It could be that he was able to keep his mind when I was absorbed with him.” Glossaryck speculated. “Could be his connection with Star, could be he is a human.”

“But the Darkest Spell… it required a soul… or a piece of one.” Queen Butterfly said, looking down at her gloved hands.

“Did you not see the giant vortex of souls that erupted from Tom?” Glossaryck asked. “I mean, I was merged with the boy and I almost had to change my robe over it.”

“You don’t have to use your own?” Queen Butterfly asked in astonishment. “She never said…”

“When you got the spell from Eclipsa… did you ask?” Glossaryck asked. Queen Butterfly shook her head no. Star looked up at her mom, questioningly. She shook her head to her unanswered question.

“I still don’t get why Marco never had issues holding the wand,” Star asked. “Since I’ve been living with him, he’s taken it away, put it in my purse, thrown it to me when I’ve dropped it. He even helped me plunged it out of the toilet when it fell in once...”

“Star Butterfly!” Queen Butterfly looked at her with a shocked look. “How can you treat such a powerful artifact so… callously?”

“Your great-grandmother often used it for a back scratcher” Glossaryck chuckled. “The wand is just a tool, nothing special. It just enhances what’s inside the user.”

“So… about Marco then?” Star asked.

“I think… when you threw the wand away… you cast aside your ownership. Your trust in Marco allowed him to hold the wand. The wand is yours and will know you as it’s owner. Even if you let someone hold it or touch it.” Glossaryck said. “Should someone steal it… it will react and fight back.”

“Does… Marco have some hidden power we don’t know about?” Star asked. “I mean… when he fought us… that was insane. Like, one swing of his sword and whoosh people flying through the air left and right! Bang! Booom! Kerpwaaaa!”

Glossaryck shrugged.

“Okay… so next fight we’re in… I’m gonna toss him the wand and have him morph into my knight… I’ll get on his shoulders and laugh as he rampages through our enemies… muahahaha!” Star cackled and rubbed her hands together in glee.

“NO!” Queen Butterfly, Glossaryck and the rest of the commission shouted in unison.

OoOoO

Marco looked over the official scroll for the third time. He adjusted his cape and armor and scratched where the leather straps chafed under his arms.

“Man… how do you wear this all the time?” He said to himself while looking at one of the motionless palace guards.

He entered his bedroom at the castle and looked at his duffle bag. It was packed and ready to go. He enjoyed his time on Mewnie, but he had his life to get back too.

“Sup,” Tom said from the open doorway.

“Hey, Tom,” Marco said.

“They gave you one too?” He asked, pointing to a scroll in his hand.

“What… am I going to do with a thousand acres of land and my own castle?” Marco said. “Honorary High Imperial Royal Knight until which time shall be afforded proper training… blah blah blah… what’s that all mean?”

“You’re a human,” Tom said with a chuckle. “I only got a Medal and secured some trade between the underworld, Mewnie, and the monster faction. I’m already a prince, so I can’t really get anymore noble than that.”

“Wait… I don’t understand.” Marco said.

“Knights in Mewnie are members of Nobility,” Tom explained. “Your castle… will have space for subjects to move too.”

“What about all those knights out in the halls?” Marco asked. “They all have these?”

Tom scoffed.

“No… you’re missing some of the words,” Tom said and pointed to his parchment. “High Imperial… You’re like a step below a Duke which is a step below a prince. You can’t get the Prince title… since you have to be born to it… and I don’t think any new Dukes have been appointed in a long time since that’s passed down through lineage as well.”

“Man… this stuff is hard to figure out,” Marco said, scratching his head. It’s similar to royalty on Earth but different enough to make comparisons hard. “What… where does the Bach...Knight comes into play. Queen Butterfly mentioned I was an eligible Bach… knight a while back.”

Tom raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really?” Tom said with a chuckle. “Think about it. There’s no such thing as a Bach Knight”

“Then why would Queen Butterfly say I was an eligible bach….oh.”

“There it is.” Tom said while ruffling his hair.

“But… I mean. I almost got us all killed.” Marco said. “I got you killed. Why reward me?”

Tom smiled.

“I think King and Queen Butterfly are trying to lay out some groundwork for your future,” Tom said.

“You almost ready?” Star asked from the doorway. She invited herself in with Jackie. Tom smiled and punched his shoulder.

Marco looked at the parchment, and up at Star who smiled brightly at him.

“Oh… Oh!” Marco exclaimed. Her parents seemed to be laying out the groundwork that would allow him to pursue Star officially… should that come up?

“I’ll see you around,” Tom said. Before he left, he spun around and bowed to Marco. “You have my blessings.”

He looked up and winked at Jackie.

“I’ll… give you a call later.” He said. She smiled and waved as he left.

Mr. and Mrs. Diaz came in with their arms loaded with souvenirs.

“Are you ready, son?” Mr. Diaz said. “This weekend, I was thinking that we should spend it in your castle… ya know, to check it out and see how it looks.

“That sounds like a great idea!” Star said. “We should have a big party!”

“A Marco or a Star party?” Marco asked skeptically. “I just got the place, I don’t want half of it destroyed by Ponyhead.”

OoOoO

The bass thumped through Castle Diaz and strobe lights of various colors erupted through the open windows.

Marco invited everyone he could think of from school, Monsters, Mewmans, and that one guy who helped him find a few items at Quest Buy.

Marco ensured he visited everyone and made sure they had a good time.

“Marco!” Star yelled from across the room. She ran to him and launched herself at him. He barely kept his balance as he caught her. She wrapped her legs and arms around him and kissed him. A lot of partygoers ‘whooo’ed at them and continued about their business.

“What’s up?” He said.

“Umm… we need you upstairs.” She said grinning ear to ear.

Marco raised an eyebrow at her. She just giggled and hugged him.

“Umm… are you going to let go?” he asked.

“No… you’re fine,” she said. “Second stairs and on the third floor.”

Marco shrugged and followed her directions while she clung to him like a Koala.

Softer music was playing in that room and a sign hung on the door.

Private VIP

“Oh!” Star said and sat up. She still clung to his waist with her legs. She fumbled with her purse and pulled out a bracelet. “VIP rooms need bracelets.”

“Okay…” Marco said suspiciously. He opened the door after she put it on.

It was a smaller room filled with bean bag chairs, a fridge, and a small kitchen area. Tom, Jackie, Janna, Ferguson, and Alfonzo all sat on bean bags.

“I secured our guest of honor!” Star said. Everyone cheered.

Janna, in her oversized knit hat, seemed a bit worked up. She had an easel set up with some sort of chart or schedule. Marco likes charts and schedules. She seemed like an auctioneer after three expressos.

“I want to go to the convention on the 14th!” Ferguson said with a smile.

“The 14th is open!” Janna exclaimed. “Alfonzo, are you adding your name too?”

His friend nodded.

Marco flopped on a bean bag next to Tom. They gave each other a fist bump. Everyone in the room became silent. Janna held a binder to her face, looking over the edge and turned bright red.

“What?” Marco asked. He saw a similar binder next to him, reached over and picked it up.

“I… wouldn't open that,” Tom said, blushing.

“Why?” Marco said. Star never let go, but scooted over so he could look.

Marco and Tom’s picture was blown up on the front page.

The forbidden love of heaven and hell. Marco x Tom.

He flipped through the story. Jackie flopped on Tom’s lap and laid her head back to look up at him while snickering.

“WHAT THE CRAP, JANNA?!” Marco shouted.

“I thought it was a good story,” Star said with a giggle.

“TWO HUNDRED PAGES?” Marco exclaimed.

“You can read it online,” Alfonzo said, adjusting his glasses. “It’s gotten quite a lot of attention from our school as well.”

Marco groaned and glowered at Janna… looked at the chart she was making and read the title.

Marco’s dates - April

“Jackie…” Marco said.

“Ya?” She said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

“Why is Janna making a chart for my dates?”

“Umm…” She said.

“Why… are Tom, Ferguson, and Alfonzo on the chart?”

Star snorted a laugh.

“Why has Janna apparently blocked out every second Tuesday?”

“She… wants to hang out?” Star said with a shrug.

“Star… you do understand what this means.” Marco said dryly.

She giggled and kissed him.

“I trust you.” She said. “They’re your friends and they want to spend time with you. Is that wrong?”

“But… that’s not a ‘friend’ chart.” Marco said. “That’s a sort of different chart altogether.”

“Don’t be so stuffy TomCo!” Jackie said. “Let her have her fun. We all know you’re not going to do anything…”

“Don’t… say it.” Marco said.

“You’re the safe kid.” Jackie finished.

Marco stood up, Star still hanging on him like a koala grinning like an idiot.

“That’s it! Everyone out!” Marco yelled. “Party’s over! Janna! Give me that chart!”

Janna grabbed the chart and threw a half full can of soda at him. It crashed into his forehead, spilling its contents on his hoodie. Everyone cheered for Janna as she dodged Marco’s attempt to grab her. Star clung on like velcro

“Hey!” Marco yelled. Janna had the chart under her arm and bolted out the door. Marco chased after her. “Give me that!”

“It’s going to be online when I get home!” Janna shouted. “IT’S SET IN STONE!”

“JANNA!” Marco shouted down the hall.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and occasional chaos. Marco smiled at Star. She never left his side, and he would never leave hers. He looked forward to his future and what new adventures will await.

“Hey, Marco?” Tom asked.

“Sup?” Marco replied.

“I’m still not sure what the big deal about that chart was,” Tom said.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Jackie chuckled.

[1apple-fox1]

This is a thing 1/idfk dude

posting it on fanfiction.net didnt go over well cause i got too scared and i d ont really w ant critiques i guess c ause i already really really hate the way i write and would love not to feel any shittier so uh-

this is for Monster!Minato/Makoto I have him named Makoto in this one so i can tell the two apart better- this is basically the intro i guess and uhhhh- enjoy??

also i dont have ao3 sorry if its hard to read....

"Iwatodai, Iwatodai," the not so enthusiastic voice sang on the train speakers. Makoto sighed- after what felt like forever he was here... Again. His brows knitted together into an expression of annoyance, or maybe even slight anger? Sometimes even he had problems thinking what emotion he could possibly be experiencing. But he knew, he wished he could have been anywhere but here.

After walking out into the open walk way he stopped. It was rather dead now that he was paying attention. He pulled out his phone. 11:59 PM... It was almost time for...

Just as he thought about it the time changed to 12:00 AM, only for everything to suddenly stop. The world gained a sickly green hue, and everyone around him had ceased to move, transmogrifying into coffins. Another night, another dark hour... With a solemn sigh he pushed onwards, the sights, the blood, the everything- this wasn’t new to him anymore.

There was a sort of sticky splashing noise as he stepped onto one of the many 'bloody' puddles on the streets, but he didn't really care. Looking up at the building before him, it was... smaller than he thought it would be. He thought to himself, looking over his hastily made map one last time. "This is it." He spoke aloud, almost as if trying to convince himself this was indeed the dorm he was assigned. With one last breath he pushed the door open to be met with...

A girl?

The auburn haired girl hummed as she finished signing a sheet of paper and closing the book. She looked around in her small bag, placing the pen back as she finally noticed the new guest. "Oh!" She seemed rather surprised by his sudden appearance. "Man, I didn't even hear you there, that's some major sneaking talent you got there!"

Makoto wore a dumbfounded expression before responding with a quick "Sorry I guess," shrugging the whole ordeal off, and in the process sounding as un-genuine as he could while apologizing. He eyed the place the paper was, only to see that whatever the girl has signed had disappeared now too. "Anyways I guess that means this is a unisex dorm, pretty cool huh?"

"Uh-"

"Who's there!?"

The third voice yelled, with obvious panic laced throughout her words. While the dark hour was known for being dark, Makoto always found it pretty easy to see, and by the stairs indeed there was a third figure, wearing some sort of pink uniform top. "Don't tell me, you're-!" Without even a warning the girl pulled out a gun.

"W-wait hold on a minute!" The auburn haired one spoke up, now even she was panicking. "We're students! ordinary students and-"

"Takeba wait-!"

A fourth voice now, called from the stairs. Just as she had interrupted the lights, the TV, his headphones. Everything came on again- everything was back to normal.

Meanwhile the situation’s tension lessened. The red head explained who they were.

"Oh um..." The pink clad girl almost seemed embarrassed now. "Well my name's Yukari Takeba. Sorry for uh-"

"So why do you have a gun?" The auburn hair girl interjected, Yukari seemed taken aback by the sudden comment.

"Well um, it's- sorta like a hobby of mine-"

"A hobby?" Makoto finally spoke, there was something odd about calling a gun a 'hobby' of all things.

Yukari looked like she had just been cornered by some wild animal when she heard him ask the question. "I-It's um-"

"For protection," The red head chimed in. "You can never be too careful in times like these."

He nodded. Despite his questioning before, Makoto had all but run out of caring for this situation.

"Fine, I buy it-" The auburn haired girl spoke. She wore a cheeky grin, and despite how big it was it was hard to tell what exactly she was thinking. "Well, Yukari and..." She gestured to the red head, while she finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh-" It took her a bit to understand why the younger girl had stopped. "Mitsuru Kirijo- a third year- And you, if I remember correctly by your file, are-"

"Hey, hey! You can't just take away my introduction like that!" The auburn hair girl interjected in a childish manor."I'm Kotone Shiomi, second year, and new to this area!"

"Oh hey, uh- me too-" Yukari spoke up, and when she did it was almost an instant match in friendship heaven. The next thing he knew the two girls were hoping to be in the same class as they both walked to- what he assumed- was their rooms.

It was just him and Mitsuru now. With a cough to draw in his attention Mitsuru started again. "And you are Makoto Yuki, correct?"

He nodded. Whether he meant to or not though his posture and lack of an audible response made him come across as rude to the senior, though she didn't dare say anything. "Come, I'll show you to your room."

Without a word he followed Mitsuru up the stairs and down the hall in silence, the tapping of shoes on the carpet was the only audible noise. But even that came to a stop as they reached the end of the hallway. "Floor one, last door on the right shall be your room." She forced a pair of keys into his hand. "While I do have extras try not to lose those keys, I wouldn't want to be seen as unreliable."

Unreliable?

Without another word Mitsuru walked back down the stairs- she must have something else to do still...

With a click and a turn of the door knob he opened his room. The first thought that came to his head was "Bland" and really that was an understatement, aside from the essentials like a bed, and a desk there was barely anything in the room. Not even his boxes filled much space. Makoto sighed, shutting the door behind him. With a quick change he hopped into bed- and tried his best to sleep.

___________________________

The clacking of the train wheels were audible over Makoto’s blaring music. He sighed trying to turn the volume up- even though he already knew he had it at max.

Yukari was talking to both him and Kotone, but of course he couldn't hear a word she was saying over his own music. Makoto saw them both looking at something through the window and without realizing, he felt his own gaze shift to the window.

A tall white building sat on the horizon, almost blinding him as the sun reflected off it. It stung his eyes, letting out a wince he couldnt help but start rubbing at his eye, like doing so would relieve the pain. Of course it didn't.

“...”

“... Hey-”

“Hey!”

Kotone practically screamed in his ear after removing his headphones. But his expression remained pretty neutral even as Kotone stared at him, wearing a pouty expression. What was a surprise to him was when the girl removed his headphones. (He could have sworn he heard a giggle come from Yukari.) “You know both of us are trying to speak with you you know? It’s not nice to ignore a girl like that!”

“I don’t really care-”

“Don’t really-! Yukari’s being nice enough to show us around and you don’t care!?” It was obvious the girl was mad with him, her pouty almost playful face had turned into a full on scowl.

“Hey Kotone- it’s fine he’s taken them off so-”

“So what? He’s still a jerk- and I just realized I don’t even know this jerks name!”

Yukari was practically clinging onto Kotone at this point. “Just drop it ok? We’re almost there anyway-” She pleaded with the headstrong girl. And indeed she was right- the train screeching to a halt, announcing their stop clearly. But Kotone still glared at the boy.

“Don’t think this is over punk-!”

And with that she ran for the exit with Yukari close behind.

He suppose he should get off as well… Makoto took his sweet time departing the train. He tried to stay away from Kotone as much as possible, not to be kind or even out of fear of being yelled at, but because he knew he had pissed her off. Staying away for now would be for the best… Probably… People were hard to read…

_______________________________________________________________

The school was like a confusing maze to him, when he thought he was headed the right way to the office he’d find himself in a courtyard, he briefly wondered if maybe finding a teacher to tell them ‘hey I’m the new student’ would be too much of a hassle.

After asking around he had finally found it, sliding open the door to the faculty office he was greeted by-

Of course, of course she was here too, it was her first day too wasn’t it? She scowled at him as she left, no Yukari in sight… Huh, odd. Then again their friendship was new.

“Ah, then you must be the other transfer student-” A woman sang from the back as she looked over sheets of paper she had laid out on her clipboard. “Makoto Yuki yes?”

He nodded.

“You’re in… Class F, that’s my class- oh yes I’m miss Toriumi. I look forward to having you in my home room!” She extended her hand for a handshake. The boy took it reluctantly. She quickly went back to the notes, skimming a page or two. “You’ve sure moved around a lot, more than I expected from only a second year but-” She looked back at the notes one last time. “Let’s see… In 1999. That was- what ten years ago? Your parents-” She cut herself off with a gasp.

This always happened- no matter where he went people brought this up, and even though his face stayed rather stoic, Makoto felt an odd mix of emotions.

Sadness.

Anger.

Regret.

He felt himself straining to keep his usual composure, hearing it never got easier…

“I’m- I’m so sorry, I’ve been so busy I didn’t have time to read this before hand.”

“Can you just, take me to my homeroom now?” His straightforward answer seemed to throw his new homeroom teacher for a loop, she wore an expression of annoyance before immediately softening up.

“Of course, sorry for my earlier blunder.” She spoke and headed toward the door, Makoto following close behind.

________________________________________________________________

When he entered the classroom went silent. “Good morning class!” Toriumi called. “I have two new transfer students to introduce today-” She gestured to someone in the corner, when Kotone stepped up with a peppy step Makoto’s suspicions were confirmed. “Now go on and introduce yourselves-”

Without a second of delay Kotone blurted out a happy go lucky “Hi! My name’s Kotone Shiomi- I Like cute things and the color orange!” Every boy in the class seemed enamoured, while Makoto just sighed like he’d had enough of this already.

“Ah right, you may take a seat near… Ah! The empty desk behind Yukari there-!”

“You got it teach!” And she skipped off and took her seat, she was probably happy to be sitting beside someone she knew.

“And now it’s your turn.”

“Makoto Yuki. Nice to meet you.” That was it, that’s all he said. The ‘nice to meet you’ tacked on to avoid being yelled at by the teacher. He didn’t even wait for the employee to recommend a seat, simply sitting down on the closest one available… Which happened to be… The one beside her.

Kotone was glaring daggers, and if looks could kill he would definitely be dead by now. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it was like some chill that ran up his spine and kept him aware. Man she really hated him didn’t she? For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much, but the thought about dealing with this every day, at the dorm and at school… Well, it gave him more motivation to at least try and fix things.

________________________________________________________________

The final school bell rung and the teacher dismissed herself and her students, Kotone looked about ready to dash out the door. If he wanted things to get better he’d have to do them now.

“Hey Ko-”

“Sup!” A tall lanky boy greeted from the side. Makoto couldn’t help but be drawn to the sports cap on his head. “So you two’re the new transfer students right? Nice to meet you! The names Junpei Iori!” He wore a friendly grin. “I transferred here while in 8th grade so, I kinda know what you two’re goin’ through… And I thought I’d help you out you know?”

“You sure you’re not just trying to hit on the new girl Iori?” Yukari chimed in before the capped teen could finish what he was saying.

“Yuka-tan!”

The two bickered and Kotone seemed to really be enjoying the energy this kid brought. Makoto though… He felt almost like he was watching from outside his own body, the talking and everything- he wasn’t used to this. Was he being overwhelmed? Or was it because of something else? He knew he couldn’t just leave, he hadn’t even apologize to her yet what was he-

“Hey you OK?” Someone asked him, it was one of the girls but he was so disoriented he couldn’t tell who.

“I…” He began, blinking a couple of times, looking at Yukari’s concerned face, and then Kotone’s. “I’m fine.”He breathed in. “I uh,” He didn’t really think apologizing in front of Iori was the best way to go about this. “I actually have something I’d like to tell Kotone-” He should have sounded more excited but he found himself speaking in that flat tone he always did. “So-”

“Ah I get ya man! You wanna make the move as quick as possible!”

“Junpei!” While the two bickered and complained Yukari still managed to drag Iori out of the room, leaving just him and Kotone.

“So- what’d you wanna say to me?” While there was still a hint of aggression in her voice, after the weird zone out he had earlier she couldn’t help but be a little concerned. She hoped Junpei was wrong and this wasn’t about to be some love confession.

“So- I noticed you’re upset with me-”

“No-! Me?? Upset?” She said sarcastically, Makoto ignored it.

“I have a problem with being… Blunt? I guess you could say?” This was hard, being honest and talking with others was way too hard. “I know I sounded like I didn’t care and that upset you. So I wanted to apologize.” He was trying his best to sound sincere- he was so used to using the same uncaring monotone voice that he knew he probably sounded like he was trying too hard. There was no reply from the girl, at least not at first- he wondered if he had made the situation worse for a second.

The more he looked the more he was confused, she looked as if she was staring at something, but there was nothing where she was staring. And a few blinks and a second later she seemed to snap out of it with a surprised “Oh-!”

“It’s OK! After a while I could tell you’re not really a people person- you prefer to be alone right?”

“Most days- yeah.”

“No problem then!” She wore a genuine smile- Makoto thought this was too easy. That’s all it took? There had to be more… Right? “I should have taken the hint when you had those headphones on I guess- But still Yukari went through all the trouble so it was kinda rude-”

Makoto shrugged, letting out a “My bad.” in response. Kotone wore the same smile,but it was obvious she was thinking of something in that head of hers.

“We should probably get goin’, I hope Yukari isn’t still waiting for us.”

Us?

Before Makoto could register anything else Kotone had grabbed his hand and started dragging him along…

________________________________________________________________

The smell of coffee filled his nose and he couldn’t help but grimace. Coffee was never a welcoming smell to him, infact he barely touched the stuff but as he looked to Kotone, who wore a smile that was some how endearing and threatening all at the same time- Makoto thought it best to stay quiet for the time being.

“So-” Kotone started, immediately causing him to tense up. “What’s up?”

“What’s…. Up?” he seemed quite confused at this point, this girl had hated his guts before, then suddenly he was being dragged to a cafe at a mall and being asked something as casual as ‘what’s up’ Like they had been friends for years… Then again…

“Well um…” she started, looking off to the side, as if looking for the right words to say. “We- got off on the wrong foot this morning- or- more like I did.” she paused to take a sip of her coffee. “To be honest when you were ignoring us I thought maybe you were just being an ass hole for no reason- but uh- whatever happened in the class room…” Kotone twirled her hair in between her fingers, focusing intently on how she was about to word her thoughts. “... Makes me think it might be something more than ‘because I’m an asshole’- and whatever that is um, well you don’t have to share but if you need support just ask me OK?”

“Ah…” This seemed odd- for someone to go from hating his guts, to buddy buddy. Something had to be up… Right?

Kotone kept on a convincing smile, but she felt the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. Makoto took it as a sign to leave, getting up from his chair without a word, but at least waving good bye- last thing he wanted to do was get on her bad side again. Before exiting the cafe he took one more glance, she seemed to be muttering something to herself, odd- but really none of his business. He shrugged and continued on.

________________________________________________________________