#they must’ve gotten that thing custom made because I couldn’t find one with a butterfly print anywhere

[furniture-in-film]

Eames Lounge Chair (1956) on the set of iCarly (2007 - 2012) pro. Dan Schneider

[uwua3]

hello! it's me again!! um.. can i request a day at an amusement park with taichi please? i feel like he doesn't get enough love.

thank you so much for requesting, clover~ ♡ please enjoy this super fluffy piece, just for you~ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ♡°◌̊ i put lots n lots of #LOVE in it! <3 i love you with all my heart!!!

summary: even cupid deserves love, too!

warnings: bad relationship (slight mention), envy/jealousy, loneliness, misunderstandings

author’s note: happy valentine’s eve eve, my friends! i’m sooo #Happy !! i love valentine’s so much ♡(*´･ω･)(･ω･`*)♡ if you are Free on February 14, i am here waiting with flowers <3 (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞⋆**💐 (please celebrate v-day with me TT) ~ in celebration of my favorite holiday, please smile at this fluffy headcanon of taichi as the lovely, adorable cupid! 🏹💗 i love you all!

word count: 3,567

music: heart attack – loona (chuu)

stupid cupid.

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

every year, taichi spent valentine’s day alone

february 14th was another day of being absolutely single. but, for him, there was nothing better than seeing love in the air

especially as the “cupid” working all february long!

as cupid, taichi looked forward to becoming the epitome of pink & red hearts every year. it was a job no one else except him could do; who else to predict the probability of relationships than the matchmaker himself?

taichi loved love! he always could tell when people had crushes on others growing up like it was second nature. he couldn’t even count on both hands how many successful relationships he’s gotten together

love came easy to taichi. it was everything valentine’s was: floating heart balloons, bouquets of red roses, sights only romance movies would show, chocolates that came in heart-shaped boxes, poems from the heart, and so much more~!

the moment taichi set his eyes on someone, it was like he was the one who loaded the arrow and fired it. he knew who liked who, it was what he did best. his intuition was second to none, he was the amusement park’s cupid

for a month, all taichi had to do was sit at a booth and predict a person’s love life leading up to valentine’s day. it was easy money considering his success rate was 99%!

(we don’t talk about the time taichi accidentally caused a break-up... but, that’s beside the point!) (at least they’re happy now...)

yet, there was one thing wrong: taichi was loveless

despite being made of love, breathing love, living out of love, taichi had never celebrated valentine’s. it seemed like all the arrows missed him completely

taichi had never experienced any of the things that made love love, but that was okay! sure, it was a little lonely seeing happy couples all month but... it was worth it to see the smile on people’s faces! love wasn’t just romantic, platonic love was super important!

still... taichi forced himself to smile to apply the heart-shaped blush to his cheeks. there was a part of him, a hole in his heart, that longed to know what valentine’s felt like

FEBRUARY 1 — taichi fluttered the pair of angel wings excitedly, happy to be back in his valentine’s attire. he couldn’t help but jump up and down, squealing about how good it was to be “back in business”

even without his usual pink & red contacts, taichi’s eyes would’ve had heart-shaped pupils with how much love he had for this holiday season! as he greeted his coworkers for the first time in a year, taichi stood out amongst the crowd of workers listening to their orders for the day

as usual, taichi would be the cupid at a small, glittery booth that was louder than life itself. sure, it was a very discreet and low-budget set up, but it always was a fan favorite to catch this valentine’s season

taichi couldn’t help but run off to his station the moment he was dismissed, his wings flapping behind him and sling of heart arrows jostling. he almost slid past his stool but skidded, luckily landing in the right place with a bright grin on his face

when the afternoon officially began with people beginning to come in to the amusement park, taichi tapped his feet with exhiliration. showtime!

“welcome~! find out your love fortune this valentine’s season!” taichi happily advertised, putting his heart and soul into gathering the attention of the masses. slowly but surely, people began flocking to his side, unable to resist the teen’s infectious love and happiness to be here

it was like taichi raised the bow & arrow and fired into the squad. it captured the hearts of a hundred as people sat down across from him, seeking his love & relationship advice

there was a multitude of ways taichi could make someone’s day. whether it was reading love oracle cards or mixing up candy hearts, taichi loved putting on a show for people to enjoy

during a gap between couple sessions, taichi leaned his cheek against his hand and quietly whined to himself. he had recently just met such an adorable and lovey-dovey pair, even he felt sick with how much sweetness there was!

taichi wished he had that... before looking up. suddenly, his heart skipped a beat

it was like the gods & goddesses of love had heard his prayers because today was the first day he saw you

someone passed by the forming line. you hadn’t even noticed him, but taichi had certainly noticed you. when the moment passed and you disappeared, taichi had to focus before getting back into his cupid persona, smiling charmingly like nothing had happened

but, something did happen. taichi had just experienced love at first sight!

taichi hadn’t even had time to load his arrow before you hit him with his

it’s not like he was going to see you again, though... taichi’s loveless life wasn’t a romance film. nor a sappy piece of literature, unfortunately

though, for once, cupid wished he had someone to share this special month with like everyone else

FEBRUARY 3 — taichi was in charge of the valentine’s decorations comimg up. this was perhaps, the best news he had received in his entire life

there was something about folding a million origami hearts that made taichi’s own heart grow a thousand times larger. it was calming during his breaks to fold and fold again, with no thought process behind a skill that came naturally

as taichi cut the colorful paper into the perfect size with ease, he was humming the latest pop song on the radio before he heard something that made his heart break

arguing?! in the loveliest season of the year?!

taichi glanced around and noticed a distinct couple. the pair was fighting rather publicly despite the other person trying to keep their voice down and calm their partner down. before taichi could turn away and mind his own business, they sighed and turned in his direction

taichi felt his breath hitch in his throat as his hands froze, the paper suddenly bent in his tight grip. it was you, the person from two days ago!

so much for it being an one-time thing... taichi could already feel the butterflies in his stomach just at the thought of this being fate. twice in a row? did this mean something?

as taichi tried to search through his brain for what the chick flicks and rom-coms liked to say, you had already left with the person you were arguing with. as they walked ahead of you, you hung your head low with the shame and embarrassment of public humiliation

for some reason, taichi hated seeing you like that despite not knowing anything about you. he was irrationally frustrated as well; how could anyone just make you sad like that and not apologize?

taichi figured he could do one last love reading for the day

when you passed by his booth, you didn’t notice how taichi had left a surprise in your jacket pocket

you exhaled softly when you arrived home, leaning on the door and closing your eyes. when you put your hands in your pockets, you paused as you felt something between your fingers

pulling it out, you noticed a small red origami heart. inside, was a message in a messy, hurried scrawl

“leave them, you deserve better. be with someone who makes you smile! — cupid ♡”

despite everything, you smiled

FEBRUARY 5 — taichi barely had time before there was a person at his booth: you

before taichi could even process that you were real, you spoke: “i broke up with them.”

taichi blinked. this was the first thing he’d learn about you, and it wasn’t even your name! this type of news usually wouldn’t make taichi feel like this, but he was honestly over the moon. he didn’t need to know anything else to know your previous partner had little to no consideration for your feelings

he’d definitely be a better boyfr—wait, what?!

“oh.” taichi said lamely, but his heart jumped when you laughed. it was a nice sound, one that made him think of giant teddy bears and sugary sweet candy. taichi wondered how hard the arrow hit, it must’ve gotten bullseye

“what’s your name?” you took the words right out of his mouth, and taichi blushed under the attention. despite being the main focus of the valentine’s event every year, it was different coming from you. it was like... you were really seeing him

“cupid, at your service!” taichi quickly jumped into character, bowing with a flourish. if he was in an anime, he’d be sparkling with rose effects right now, taichi thought proudly

but, you didn’t clap or amuse him like his other customers. instead, you observed him with a questioning look. it was like you were picturing him without the valentine’s attire, without the wings, bow & arrow, and glitter across his face

“i meant your real name.”

taichi blanked. you were a surprise; he had never been this speechless in his entire life... it was honestly kinda embarrassing for him, taichi was flustered for once

“but, why do you want to know?”

“because you make me smile.”

when taichi told you, you said it aloud and he finally understood what it meant to have a crush

all it took was one conversation and taichi was head over heels for you

FEBRUARY 7 — taichi had never been a target of love before. no one had ever liked him, nor had he ever developed a serious crush on someone before. he was far too busy fixing everyone’s disaster of a love life, never mind his own!

yet, it was like the world aligned so you two could meet. taichi swore the stars aligned, fate was working its magic so you both would meet at this giant amusement park during the most romantic month of the year

even though it had only been a week or so since taichi first met you, it felt like you two knew each other for your whole lives. after getting over the fact you made his heart beat way too fast, taichi quickly warmed up to you and vise versa

while you only came to actually thank cupid for helping you get out of a bad relationship, you realized you very much liked the person behind the angel wings. taichi was everything you expected and more, with his personality that reminded you valentine’s maybe wasn’t so bad

speaking of, taichi was absolutely in hysterics when he found out your stance on valentine’s

“what?! what do you mean you don’t....” taichi took in a deep breath, as if it pained him to continue. “you don’t like valentine’s day?!”

you knew it was ironic to befriend literal cupid when you didn’t have a taste for romance to begin with, but you tried to hide your entertained expression with a lighthearted eye roll

“i’ve never celebrated it. it seems like a capitalistic excuse to buy a bunch of overpriced stuff, to be honest.”

you physically winced when you heard the crack of taichi’s poor, poor heart. his puppy eyes widened at your revelation and leaned forward, uncharacteristically serious for his cupid persona. luckily, he was taking a fifteen-minute break so the curtains were drawn to hide his immense sadness

“b-but!” taichi spluttered, his brain running a million arguments at once, which was way too fast for his mouth. “it’s valentine’s day! it’s sooo romantic! love is everywhere! how can you not love love?”

you thought about it some more before shrugging, crossing your legs and trying to not break taichi’s heart even more. the poor cupid, it looked like he was going to cry like a baby

“why do you love love then?”

only you could render taichi silent. he had never been truly asked that question before, nor had he reflected on why he was the first person to become cupid every year

when taichi struggled to answer, you waited before he started speaking. it lacked the usual wonder and excitement he always had, it seemed like it was almost... personal

“i love love because... love is who i am. i didn’t...” taichi stopped, as if considering sharing with you before continuing, not giving you the second to tell him he didn’t have to. he wanted to, anyways

“i didn’t have love to call my own, at least, not the way i wanted it. so, i made my own love. i love people, i love the world, i love everything. everything deserves love! just because i love a lot, doesn’t make it any less special.”

you thought taichi would’ve said the expensive bouquets florists made of the prettiest roses. or the largest stuffed animals holding stitched plush hearts in their paws. or sunsets with classical music playing in the background like a nicholas sparks film. not... not that

“okay you sap, maybe valentine’s day isn’t that bad if you like it, then.”

taichi’s wings fluttered and he sat up, a smile upon his face

“i promise, valentine’s day is the best!”

now, that i’ve met you, taichi thought

FEBRUARY 9 — taichi came to work only to find a bouquet of flowers upon his booth. they were the grandest displays of affection yet, with the best-smelling hundred petal roses he had ever imagined

you, on the other hand, weren’t so impressed

“cupid, have you stolen the heart of another?” you said in the tone of a dramatic shakespearian actor, pretending to swoon when taichi hid his face in the flowers

“i... usually get flowers like these when i work, it’s nothing, really.” taichi mumbled, holding the flowers to his chest as a warm feeling spread across his body. he usually never got flowers, this was the first time someone had found his charms alluring enough to gift him such a pricey present

one look and you already knew he was lying. your heart fell a little when you noticed how happy taichi was, but you pretended to not care as you winked at him

“oh~ taichi has a lover now, huh?” he giggled in response, adamantly denying it despite holding the bouquet like it was his most prized possession. you glared a little harder at the red roses more than you’d like to admit

why were you feeling so... jealous? it’s not like you wanted the flowers or anything so—oh

when taichi turned that lovesick gaze towards you, you suddenly felt like you were on a sugar rush

when taichi performed his role better than ever with his newfound love for all things traditionally romantic, you watched off to the side

you reached up to your chest to feel the arrow, but to no avail

have you fallen for cupid?

FEBRUARY 11 — taichi shuffled the cards professionally, but his behavior was anything but that. the last time you had sat on the other side of the booth was days ago, but here you were, waiting for your love reading

when taichi met you, you weren’t a person who heavily believed in love. romance wasn’t something that made you happy nor did valentine’s day make you count down to february 14th like him. yet, you suddenly paid for a reading

you stared expectantly at him, your face once again unreadable and hard to distinguish. even if taichi was friends with you, he never mastered the art of reading you like a romance book. it was one of his most prominent talents, too, so it was strange why he couldn’t

you only showed him what you wanted him to see, unfortunately. regardless, taichi did the whole shebang, theatrics and all even if you had seen it a thousand times by now

“welcome to cupid’s love booth! let me read your love life~” taichi laid out the pink cards in a pretty, attention-grabbing manner before asking you to pick three. you did so relatively quickly, which taichi admired you for (he had once sat waiting for someone to pick, but they had taken nearly ten minutes. there was only so much cupid could do)

when taichi flipped them over, it was surprising, to say the least. of course, you didn’t understand a thing as you waited for him to explain. however, taichi fell quiet, reading the cards with furrowed eyebrows

“awww, come on, cupid, give it to me straight. am i destined to be single forever?” you joked but a part of you worried about taichi’s reaction. even though he wore his heart on his sleeve and always expressed his feelings, he had never reacted this negatively to a reading before

taichi laughed at your joke, but it felt like a customer service one. it seemed strained and before you could ask if he was okay, taichi’s brilliant wink put him back as the amusement park’s favorite cupid

“is there someone you’re not telling me about~? it seems like you have a friend you like, am i right?” taichi had hit bullseye; how did he know just from those cards? you didn’t answer, just offering an innocent shrug as if you didn’t care. you very much did, though

“so i am! i’m seeing that you’ve recently liked them, ahhh, young love~” taichi sighed, as if in love with the concept already. “looks like love’s in the air, my dear, so don’t worry about a thing! they like you back, without a doubt.”

you looked up at this, eyes wide before returning to your nonchalant state. taichi wondered what that could’ve meant even as he tried to maintain his shaking hands

“they do? how do you know?”

taichi held a finger to his lips, as if it was a secret only cupid could know

“shhh, i just know. trust me, they’d be a fool to not like you back.”

you could tell it wasn’t cupid just talking, and you knew what you had to do

“i’ll ask them to be my valentine tomorrow, then.”

taichi’s heart broke but... as long as you were happy, how could he say no?

FEBRUARY 13 — taichi wished he had a valentine. if only you liked him, maybe he would’ve asked you, his first crush, to be his this month (and even longer). but, you were somewhere else, asking someone else to be your valentine

taichi frowned, finding it hard to maintain his happy excitement forever as the line began becoming longer and longer. taichi huffed, looking around as if you’d suddenly appear. but, taichi’s life wasn’t a movie...

“hey cupid, why so sad?”

taichi turned around to see the biggest plushie he had seen in his entire life. it covered your entire frame, with the dog ears flopping over its giant black eyes cutely. in its arms was a red heart with the cursive words “i like you!” in white stitching

before taichi could even react, you peeked over the plush’s shoulder with a slightly embarrassed look

“can you take it already? i’ve been getting weird looks from everyone i’ve walked by.”

taichi took the plush and placed it on the seat next to him, about to speak before you pulled out an even bigger bouquet from behind your back

they weren’t just red roses. they were a rainbow of them, ranging from pink, white, yellow, blue, red, and even black! taichi could barely even count how many there were before you passed it to him, doing your best to not pass out and die from how sappy this all was

“see, these are even better than the bouquet you got last time. i clearly am the better, uh, person for you, you know?” taichi didn’t have the time to respond before you turned around again and presented a display of chocolates, all of them heart-shaped and tied in ribbon

“you like chocolate, right? yeah, of course you do, i also got—” before you could keep rambling, taichi gently held your hand. your heartrate skyrocketed and you froze, unsure of what to do when taichi was looking at you with his heart eyes

“you got all of this... for me?” taichi was genuinely amazed and flattered, a light dust of red across his cheeks at how romantic all of this was. you blushed as well, looking away bashfully

“i mean, yeah. i don’t see anyone else around.”

“but... you don’t like valentine’s day?”

you sighed, knowing the next words out of your mouth are word he’s going to never let you forget

“but, i like you.”

“but... i thought you liked someone else?”

“stupid cupid, i like you. only you.”

taichi stood up, not as cupid, but as himself. when he softly turned your head towards him, he smiled gently, squeezing your hands with all the appreciation in the world

“i like you, too. with or without the romance, i would’ve said yes to being your valentine no matter what you did.”

you breathed a sigh of relief. sure, you didn’t love love like taichi, but... he deserved it

“i have an idea.” you proposed, leaning in closer as taichi awaited your response with bated breath

“you should open a kissing booth.”

“you’d be my only customer.”

“then give me my kiss already!”

FEBRUARY 14 (valentine’s day) — every year, taichi spent valentine’s alone. until, he met you

“stupid cupid, i like you.”

you and taichi were shot by cupid’s arrow this valentine’s day

[peterthepark]

born to die

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

summary: sometimes, it’s better to leave something broken than to fix it. after a two-year old breakup, billy finds her waiting tables, yet still as gorgeous as ever. he can only hope that the timing was never right for them, & that they can show each other how to live again. but hope... it’s a dangerous thing, especially for a man like billy.

warnings: angst, SADNESS, heartbreak, smoking, alcohol, instances of a toxic relationship, strong language, bad shit in the workplace, sensitive topics

A/N: based off of the song happiness is a butterfly by lana del rey & of course, born to die by her as well! this is a continuation to die for you. pls read that before you read this for the whole angsty experience, thanks! be aware this contains sensitive topics and i do not intend to glorify them.

The restaurant bustles noisily with the clatter of plates and cutlery. The air is warm, and you can instantly feel the sweat build up on your brow from the cheap air conditioning. Your body, however, stands frozen in the walkway between the tables. The yellow notepad trembles in your hand, and you stumble over your own words as you muster up the stability to speak again.

Meeting his blue eyes, it made you feel as if you were nineteen again - the same nineteen year old teenager, whose mind was clouded with lust and the need to be loved. Billy Hargrove never did, in fact, love you. Maybe that’s why you still had that aching need buried at the bottom of your heart. No chain and ball could ever pull down that feeling.

His gaze drops from your face to your shoes, taking in your frazzled state. Compared to him, you surely looked like a mess. At least your makeup was decent, unlike the stains on your uniform and apron. Billy couldn’t make it anymore obvious with how shocked he was, yet, the faint smile on his face was a giveaway of his lack of malice towards you.

But the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

And maybe you did lie - about him not loving you.

Maybe it wasn’t love in the first place. Maybe it was more.

Because he was still wearing the gold necklace you had given him on his eighteenth birthday.

It’s been two years. Get a fucking grip.

“So, just the pasta?” You clear your throat, scribbling off all the errors you had made on the notepad whilst taking his order. Stuffing the papers into your apron, you collect his menu, nearly knocking over the glass of water in front of him. “Sorry. My fault. Is that all?”

“Yeah, thank you.” His expression is fond. The words seem bitter on his tongue, almost as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you after all that guilt and shame that was placed upon him once you had left. “Y/N?”

Your heart flutters ever-so delicately, and you turn on your heels to look at him. His eye twitches before he bites down harshly on his bottom lip. “It’s good to see you again.”

There’s a small hitch in his gruff voice, and you internally wince at it before you head into the kitchen to compose yourself. You brush past the busy cooks and stressed waiters, shutting yourself inside the stock room as you attempt to even out your breathing. Bracing your forearms against the shelf, you rest your head against the cool metal, closing your eyes tightly as you mutter curses to yourself.

The door creaks open, causing light to seep through the crack by the doorframe. You raise a hand up, eyes still shut as you press your lips together. “If you could just leave me be right now, that would be great.”

“Y/N.”

Fuck.

“Billy, I - you aren’t allowed to be back here.” You finally look up, hair sticking to your cheeks while you wipe away the oiliness on your neck. You’re sure that your eyeliner has smudged with how much you’ve been touching your face.

You must’ve looked far from beautiful.

But Billy thought otherwise. Seeing you look like a broken mess was nothing foreign to him.

In fact, he was ultimately drawn to broken things.

Maybe two broken people are meant to piece themselves into a whole.

“Look, I’m... Y/N, I wanna apologize.” He steps inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. The only light that fills the room is the swinging red lamp above you, illuminating Billy’s sorrowful features.

“We can’t do this right now.”

“You need to hear me out.”

“Not here, please.” Your eyes glance down at his outstretched fingers.

You almost want to grab them and place his palm against your heart, to show him how fast it beats right now.

To show him that he still has that effect on you. To show him that maybe you do miss him. To show him that he could get a second chance.

But you shouldn’t.

You’ve killed yourself for him too many times.

Yet, the sound of his voice and the blue in his eyes is enough to bring you back to life.

“Y/N, I know I’m the last person who - who you’d want to see here. It’s just I... I’ve thought about what I did to you, and what I could’ve done so that I wouldn’t have lost you.” His eyes are soft, and his eyebrows furrow with every word he says. “I just wanna talk.”

“What even is there left to talk about, Billy?” He sighs at the mention of his name, and he struggles to keep his head lifted at the sound of it. You place your hands on top of your shoulders, arms crossing over your sternum defensively as you stare at him with a open mouth.

“Do you still feel the same?” He whispers breathily. “Do you still love me?”

A shaky exhale escapes from your lips, before they part and purse together; the words in your head are hesitant to leave through your throat, and a weak scoff comes out instead. The door clicks open, and you freeze when your boss walks into the stock room. His eyes bounce from you to Billy, and you curl into yourself under his degrading glare.

“Everything good, Y/L/N?” Freddie asks, adjusting the collar of his button up as you tug at Billy’s shirt for him to leave.

“M’fine, sir.” You mumble, straightening out your uniform as you step towards him.

Billy walks out first, and to his dismay, he quickly sees the disheartening interaction between you and Freddie. He doesn’t miss the way Freddie snatches your wrist, pulling you towards him while you struggle in his grasp. Billy catches your eye in the doorway, and you avert your gaze before Freddie finally lets you go. You stumble out of the back room, bumping shoulders with Billy as you hastily return to your job.

The expression on your face saddens him. It’s as if you had died over and over again in the last two years, constantly being thrown in the line of fire - only to pick yourself up everytime. Since when was it possible for it to become this bad?

With short breaths, you place Billy’s dish on the table, already knowing that he didn’t want any Parmesan on his pasta and that he would want a Coca-Cola to go with it. His lips curl up into a small smile, and a quiet thank you slips out. You nod courteously, stuffing your hands in your pockets while you ask him if he needs anything else.

“Can I see you after this?” Billy says as he twists his fork into his noodles.

You huff with a weak shrug. “I don’t - I don’t have time. Really.” He nods respectfully, and suddenly you feel a wave of regret wash over you. You pat the table with your hand, before you stride off to help your other customers. “Enjoy your meal, Hargrove.”

Closure.

It’s what you needed, right? Surely, closure would help mend the agonizing wound inside your chest. But maybe, the wound had gotten worse now that you’ve seen Billy once again - infected even.

Was it worth it?

Billy runs a limp hand down his face when another waitress hands him his check. He sorts through the receipts, digging out crumpled dollar bills from his wallet to pay off his food. His eyes skim over the numbers, until they land on a familiar set of blue handwritten words on the corner of his receipt.

We can meet at the motel down a few blocks. (The one where we stayed when your car broke down? Do you remember that?) Anyways, I‘m taking up room 20. Shift ends at 5.

He cranes his neck to look for you in the midst of the restaurant, but he doesn’t. Disappointed yet also relieved at your change of heart, he folds the note into his jacket, setting aside a generous twenty dollar-bill as his tip. With shaky legs, he stands, suddenly nervous at the thought of you confronting him about all that had happened - but he didn’t care anymore.

At least you’d be speaking to him.

Staring at the evergreen car freshener that hung from the mirror above the dashboard, Billy could feel his chest constrict as he thought of the things you’d say to him.

How pathetic he made you feel?

How he wasted your time?

How he struggled to show how much he truly loved you?

Billy plants his feet on the murky welcome mat in front of your room. Rapping his fist against the door, he bites down on the inside of his mouth as he listens to the lock click open. Your sunken face peers through the crack, and you slowly pull the door further to allow Billy into your room. He shuffles inside with heavy footsteps. The leather jacket rests heavy on his arms so he shrugs it off and hangs it on the wooden chair in the makeshift kitchen.

His eyes take in the state of your motel room. Clothes are scattered on the floor of the bathroom, while two suitcases hide behind the curtain of the closet. There’s an ashtray on the television stand, and a pack of unopened Marlboro cigarettes beside. The bedsheets of your queen mattress are messily pulled back, and it seems as if you had lacked the energy to clean up after yourself. After what seemed like forever, Billy finally pans over to you, eyebrows already furrowed with questions and mouth drawn in a straight line.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

The question is enough to cause you to take a seat, otherwise, you’re sure that you wouldn’t have the strength to carry on. Not in a couple months has asked you that question. And in the two years you had gone without seeing Billy, you least expected him to be the first person who’d ask.

Visually, the answer is clear: you aren’t okay. But internally, inside your mind, beneath the mentality of pretending to be alright, you weren’t sure if there was anything left - besides the occasional pang of sadness or frustration, it felt as if your whole world had shifted into black and white.

It’s like the universe had died with you.

And so, you reply with the phrase that you’ve repeatedly rehearsed inside your head. “I’m not okay,” You swallow audibly, feeling your throat tighten. “But I will be.”

Billy, though sympathetic, is almost in worse shape as you are. However, he doesn’t let it show, not on the outside at least. Yet, he knows that you can tell something is wrong with him. There’s a slight frown on your face as you rest your arm on the back of the chair you‘re sitting on.

You raise your head to look up at him, “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” He smiles sadly, twisting the ring around his finger. His eyebrows knit together as he glances at you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been better.”

“I know, I know.” Strands of hair from your loose ponytail frame your face, and you stressfully push them away from your view with a sigh. “We both could’ve done better.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” He kicks his heel against the refrigerator with disgruntlement, tugging on his curly hair. “I’ll never find anyone like you. I fucked it up. I’m sorry. I fucked everything up.” He begins to pace around the room, footsteps heavy on the dark carpet.

“Billy...”

“Y/N, I still love you. And I know - I know that what I did was... unspeakable. I messed with your head, I made you think twice, I made you doubtful and insecure and I - I understand no one would ever want that. But Y/N... I was seventeen when we first got together, I was nineteen when we broke up. And now, I’m twenty, and I still miss you.”

“Billy, as much as I... I would like to go back to being seventeen again, and hope that we would last then... it’s impossible.” You play with coaster on the table, twisting it between your fingers as a method of distracting yourself. Billy forces himself to sit, letting himself slide down the cool surface of the fridge with ease. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “But... there are some days where I can’t stop thinking about you.” When you look at him, he meets your gaze through his lashes. “And other days, I wonder why I’m wasting my fucking time, B.”

B.

He thinks that’s your way of telling him that you still love him.

Is it though?

“Do you want me or do you not?” Billy questions you. His eyes are narrowed. The hurt is finally visible, and you shrivel under his hopeful stare with clammy palms.

“You were supposed to be my once in a lifetime.” You clench your jaw, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “I don’t know if I can handle a second chance.”

The air smells of death.

You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have let him reach out. You shouldn’t have let this happen.

Your body shifts into instinct, and your feet scuffle against the ground as you stand up. Your shadow falls against Billy’s face as you step closer towards him. His eyes follow you as you sit down onto your thighs in front of him. The skirt of your uniform rides up, baring the skin beneath it.

“But what’s the worst that could happen to someone who’s already hurt?” You whisper, breath fanning over your lips.

His face is inches away from yours, and his attention falls onto your smudged lipstick, hesitant to reach out and touch you. Sitting between his legs, the tip of your nose grazes against his, then your mouths hover over one another - so close yet so far. Momentarily, he locks eyes with you. And you see nineteen-year old Billy again. You hold back a sob as you let your forehead rest again his. Gently, your fingers come to toy with his necklace, engraved onto it is a butterfly, and you smile through tears.

“I love you, Y/N.” Billy swipes his thumb under your eye, catching your teardrop. “I love you.”

His lips slowly connect to yours, capturing you into a desperate and longing kiss. His hands become grabby, clutching at the fabric of your top and nape of your neck. When he pulls away, you both are gasping for air.

Kissing him had revived you.

But kissing him was also the thing killing you.

How can you stay away from something that you were once so addicted to?

-

“So what happened?” Billy pipes up in a raspy voice. He rubs your arm, drawing butterfly-like shapes with his pointer finger as you rest your head on his bare chest.

Ever since he had sat down and talked to you, he’d visit you every few weekends, trying his best to prove himself to you again.

To gain back your trust.

It was almost too easy.

“I, uh, moved out of home last year for college. Remember Chicago? Yeah, couldn’t afford that shit so I was forced to drop out. Then, my parents got on my ass about it and I feel too - too ashamed to even ask for their help. Which is how I got to waiting tables at Rascal’s.” You scoff, “It doesn’t pay much, but its enough for two nights at a motel and some grocery.”

Billy shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

“But I’ve saved up enough money... to leave.” You reluctantly glance up at Billy, burying your head against his collarbone. “You know?”

“Leave?”

“I’m going to California in a few weeks. That was my plan: to get up and go without telling anyone. Just - just disappear off the face of the earth. But now, you’re here. I’m here. And yet, I still want to leave this shithole.”

Billy looks over at the suitcases in the closet.

You were going to California.

What if he went too? After all, he’d die for you, right?.

You move to lean against the headboard, blinking at him expectantly.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you listen as he begins to ramble on. “Let me go with you to California.” Your jaw drops, and you start to shake your head while he frantically continues. “Y/N, there’s nothing for me here. This - I don’t have anyone or anything in this shithole.”

“You have Max.”

“She has her friends.”

“Billy,” You place your hand on his cheek, pulling him into your arms when he leans into your warm touch. “Wouldn’t that be a little too selfish?”

“Sweetheart,” He presses a kiss to your forearm and squeezes your hand. His eyes flicker up to you, and you blush deeply under his intense stare. “I’m always a little too selfish when it comes to you.”

The fact that he’d die for you was enough, right?

“So you’re coming with?” You chew on your bottom lip, tracing his tattoo with uncertainty.

“I’ll go anywhere you want me to go.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Y/N.”

Walking through the city streets

Is it by mistake or design?

I feel so alone on a Friday night

Can you make it feel like home if I tell you you're mine?

In a matter of weeks, Billy shows up to your motel room with two luggages in each hand. His hair is pulled back into a low curly ponytail, and he flashes you a charming smile as lightening booms in the sky behind him.

“When I said that we should runaway together at some point in our life...” You joke, hopping into the passenger seat of his Camaro with ease. Billy comes around to the driver’s seat after loading the trunk. “I didn’t think we’d be serious about it.”

“Well, there’s no backing out now, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

“Can we stopover? Please? I gotta piss.” Billy complains, scratching his head dramatically as he fidgets in the seat. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel, finding amusement that he can’t stand the fact that you’re driving. “Y/N, I’m begging you.”

“The next stopover isn’t for like another hour. You’re an idiot. Should’ve went at the last one.”

“I di-“

“Fine! Fine. Alright, well, the closest thing to us is some random bar.” You chuckle, changing lanes. You turn up the stereo, tuning out Billy’s whining with Elvis instead.

Come take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane

The mattress is soft beneath you. Billy’s arm rests over your stomach, trapping you against his chest. The lamp beside you buzzes softly, and you take in the state of the apartment that Billy had managed to rent out within the month you had arrived in San Francisco.

Leaving Hawkins had left an unknown scar in your heart. You wanted this - California, having a life with Billy, a second chance at that. You felt euphoria once you had moved in with him; the feeling was fulfilling, and it made you feel complete.

Was there anything better than loving someone in a city far from home?

You blink sleepily as Billy stirs awake. He yawns into your shoulder, trailing kisses up your neck with exaggerated noises.

“Morning.”

“Hi.” You flip onto your other side to face him. The blanket tickles your nose as you cuddle into its warmth, locking eyes with Billy. The dark blue turquoise swirls with adoration and momentarily, you feel something.

He looked at you like you were his whole world.

You must be feeling love - love felt like this, right? It had to. What other feeling could it be?

Or are you just trying to convince yourself as you look into the eyes of the boy who had stabbed you in the heart too many times?

You wanted this, Y/N.

You wanted California.

But did you ever want Billy?

“Are you leaving for work soon?” He asks, rolling out of the bed. He slips on his sweatpants from last night, tying the drawstrings together.

“Yeah, I have about twenty to spare though.”

“Oh.” He huffs, arms limp by his side. “Well, you should’ve told me. Put on pants for nothing.”

You laugh heartily. But the grin fades instantly when he dips down to press a suggestive kiss to your lips.

Was it love? Will it ever be love?

Lost but now I am found

I can see but once I was blind

I was so confused as a little child

“Y/N, you want me to take table six?” Alex asks, holding a stack of menus in his hand. You push your hair back, nodding with a gracious gaze.

“Please? Thank you. You’re an angel.” You move to brush past him, but simultaneously, he tries to move past you as well. His taller frame hovers over you, and you unexpectedly blush when he touches your arm to scoot past the granite counter.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He chuckles shyly, scratching his head. A black curl of hair falls against his forehead, and you look at him fondly before he finally moves to accommodate the customers.

You catch the second glance he gives you.

And your belly bubbles with a cozy sensation.

It’s been forever since you’ve felt like this.

Tried to take what I could get

Scared that I couldn't find

All the answers, honey

“Okay, so you’re from Indiana? Tell me how it feels to grow up in a place like that.” Alex points at you with his spoon, chewing softly on his cereal. He glances up at you as he takes another spoonful of Cheerios. You shake your head in disagreement, staring down at your coffee bashfully. “No? So you’re from Illinois? Wait, Michigan?”

“No, no, I grew up here, silly. But... moved to Indiana for family reasons.” You shrug.

“Oh, alright, I see it now. You’re definitely a California girl.”

“What makes you say that?” He pauses, taking a couple minutes to study your face.

“You’re too beautiful for a small town, Y/N.”

You didn’t know that your own name could make you feel such emotions.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

“Where have you been?” Billy rushes towards you, reeking of a bar.

You exhale sharply, tossing your bag onto the stool by the front door. “Working. Why?”

You take off the cardigan of your uniform and hang it on the coat rack. Walking past a concerned Billy, you head straight into the bedroom, too exhausted and too conflicted to even acknowledge him following you. He leans against the wall, eyes wide with disbelief as you start to undress.

“Working? Y/N, it’s been hours since your shift ended!” He shouts, gesturing at the clock on the nightstand.

You gape at him, slipping into an old shirt. “Billy, I’m home. That’s all that matters.” You start to raise your voice in irritation. “Why are you being such an ass about it?”

“Because - because...”

Happiness is a butterfly

Try to catch it like every night

It escapes from my hands into moonlight

“Because you don’t trust me? Is that what this is?” Scoffing at him with narrowed eyes, you dump your waitress uniform into the laundry basket, disregarding how piled up it is.

“You’re putting words into my mouth.” He paces around the room, while you sit calmly on the edge of the bed.

“You’re making assumptions.”

“Then tell me where you’ve been all day!” He explodes, tugging at his hair.

“With Alex.” You answer truthfully, finding no harm no the words you had uttered.

“Alex?”

“Just a guy from the café.”

Billy’s face hardens. “You’ve been at this job for how long? Three months?”

“B, just drop it. I’m tired.” You bury your head into your hands.

“Three months and you haven’t told me a single thing about this - this Alex.” His voice falters, and for a second, you think that’s he done being an asshole - but the anger and jealousy in his eyes tell you the opposite. “You like spending time with Alex? Huh? You’ve been gone for five hours, is that how much you like being around Alex? I barely get to see you anymore, Y/N. What the fuck is this?”

“Alex is a friend!” You stand up abruptly, fed up with Billy’s behavior. “I can’t be friends with other guys? You’re fucking crazy.”

“We move back to California and suddenly you’re a whore again.”

You realize that he’s been slurring this whole time - his words still hurt, though, and the intent behind them are enough to sting.

But drunk people often tell the truth. You weren’t a stranger to that.

If he's a serial killer, then what's the worst

That could happen to a girl who's already hurt?

I'm already hurt

Your frustration shifts into shock, then pain as you process what he had said to you in a matter of seconds. The tears don’t hold back this time, and immediately, your vision is blurry as the room around you spins.

Billy wobbles on his feet as the shame comes over him. He mutters your name when he sees your watery eyes and your quivering lip. You make a beeline for the door, but you’re pulled back when your hand comes in contact with the knob. Billy tightly wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head against your back as he whimpers an apology. The cracks in his throat don’t faze you. The dampness of your shift doesn’t faze you. The sound of him whispering your name doesn’t faze you.

This isn’t love.

Your love died when you had died for him.

If he's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed

Looking into his eyes, I think he's already hurt

He's already hurt

“I don’t want this.” You say, shuddering as a sob racks through your body. “I don’t want you if you’re going to be like this.”

“Stay. Stay.” He cries. This is too familiar. This already happened. You can’t handle a second time. Not again. “I’ll change. I’m drunk. I’m drunk - just - this isn’t me, Y/N. You know me. This isn’t me.”

“I’m so fucking stupid.” You tremble, placing your hands on the door to hold yourself up as Billy embraces you even tighter.

You can’t breathe. He’s suffocating you.

“Y/N, I love you.”

“I’m sorry, B. I can’t.”

This isn’t love. No...

This is what it looks like when you’re lonely.

You pry his cold hands off of you, not once looking back as you slam the bedroom door behind you.

Billy doesn’t chase after you this time. He lets the tears roll down his cheeks. And he lets the emptiness eat him alive.

After all, people don’t come back from death.

I said, "Don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi.”

Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You sniffle, wiping away your runny nose with the sleeve of Billy’s crewneck. It hangs just above your knees, and you realize how disheveled you look.

Alex ushers you inside, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as you take a seat on his futon. The throw pillows smell of roses.

A funeral.

He doesn’t say a word. Rather, he sits beside you, rubbing your back comfortingly as your breathing becomes ragged. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a weak, pained moan.

I just wanna hold you tight down the avenue

I just wanna dance with you

I just wanna dance with you

Alex pulls you up from the makeshift bed on his couch, shushing you as you start to worriedly ask questions. The record player by his dining table sings airily, and you feel light as Alex begins to waltz with you around the living room.

“I’m not in the mood for this...” You mumble grumpily. Alex blows air into your face, and you flinch from the sudden action. “Ow, what is wrong with you?”

“Just trying to dry your tears. If you keep crying, I’ll run out of oxygen soon from trying to keep you dry.” He quirks a brow at you, laughing as you accidentally step on his bare feet. “And maybe I have to teach you to dance better. I won’t have any feet after that either, considering you keep fucking stepping on them.”

You shake your head at him with a small smile.

The cozy feeling from before fills the dark pit in your stomach.

“Is the California girl smiling?” Alex pulls back to look at you properly, scrunching his nose up when he sees you smile even wider. “Would you look at that.” His eyes drop down to your lips, and you don’t miss the way that his tongue slips out to wet his own. Clearing his throat, he speaks up again. “I got you a little gift. Just - just to cheer you up. Uh, hopefully. I don’t know if you’ll like it, but...” He steps away, digging through his bookshelf. When he turns to you, he holds out a minuscule box.

You hesitantly take it into your hands, popping the lid open.

A necklace.

A butterfly necklace.

The same one as Billy’s.

What a tragedy, to want to forget someone, only for them to flutter into your life undecidedly, especially when you don’t want them anymore.

But people don’t get to decide when the Reaper comes to sow.

And death - death is inevitable.

You were born to die from the beginning.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Internal Disputes ch.6 (baon)

Summary: Something strange is afoot. Edge isn’t sure what, but he can guess he isn’t going to like it.

Notes: Here we go, last chapter. Who's up for a little easing of that ongoing angst, yeah? Add some more comfort to that hurt. 

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch didn’t know when Red left them. Truth was, he didn’t even remember falling asleep; one moment he was laying in Red’s lap and the next thing he knew he was waking up to a firm knock at the front door.

Snugged up almost on top of him, Jeff stirred, blinking sleepily as he sat up and there was no telling how long they’d slept curled up together on the sofa like a coupla lonely oversized hamsters, but it must’ve been a while because the light outside was coming in through the opposite windows.

That firm knock came again on the front door, shit, and Stretch untangled himself from Jeff and started shambling over.

“Wait, let me get it!” Jeff tried to scramble past him and for a second, Stretch didn’t get it. Until he did, and he could only shake his head in weary exasperation. This was what he got for letting Jeff go work at the Embassy with Red and Edge, he should’ve gotten him a job at the Bun Bakery where superhero tendencies didn’t go much further than rescuing cinnamon bunnies.

“don’t you start with the overprotective bullshit, andy,” Stretch caught the tail of his shirt and yanked him back, ignoring his yelp. “the door has a peephole and i’ll look, but my guess is ninja assassins don’t generally knock.”

Jeff nodded sheepishly, but he still crowded in close as Stretch checked out the front porch. It was a Monster that Stretch didn’t know, the curling tentacles that made up their ‘hair’ pulled back into a neat ponytail, but they were dressed in the same generic suit that all of Asgore’s personal bodyguards wore, so it wasn’t much of Jeopardy question to guess who sent ‘em. Last Gyftmas, he’d sent them all Ray-ban sunglasses, and gotten a politely worded ‘thank you’ letter back. He still wondered sometimes if they’d gotten the joke.

It couldn’t be bad or Asgore would have come himself. Even if Stretch had been a dick to him earlier, he would have—Stretch opened the door a little, poking his skull out, “yeah?”

“Good afternoon,” they began formally, in a calm, fluting voice, “apologies for disturbing you, I’m sure you’re busy--”

“can we cut to the part of the speech where you tell me what you want?” Stretch interrupted tiredly, “because if you’re selling vacuums, i’m not interested. i’ve been having a hell of a day, and i’m not up for giving a golf clap for the effort.”

The Monster only nodded, and that bland expression shifted to faint sympathy. “Yes, of course. I came to tell you that the Ambassadors’ plane will be landing in about an hour and if you’d like to accompany me to the airport, you can meet them there.”

“seriously?” They must’ve taken off the moment he and Tori got off the phone to get back home so fast and Stretch wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Tori said they were all okay, but wouldn’t the authorities want them to hang around for a while after an incident? That was the vibe he always got about police bullshit, unless…unless they needed to get back to Ebott because this was where they kept the Monster hospital. Or maybe it wasn’t safe to stay, that could be it, right? He didn’t know, could keep guessing all day but the Monster in front of him was waiting for his answer with a bland smile that didn’t reveal shit.

Anxiety was churning inside him, not much he could do about that, but maybe it was time to channel a little Edgy-calm. He’d been living with Edge for a while, and this wasn’t exactly the way he’d imagined trying out a little roleplaying, but fuck it, worth a try.

If it was Edge here, he wouldn’t go borrowing trouble; he’d head over to the airport and wait patiently to see what the fuck was going on.

Patience might be asking a bit much of his acting skills, heading over to the airport wasn’t. He’d never been to the airport himself, there wasn’t much point. All those movies that showed happy couples meeting at the gate with flowers and kisses were a load of bullshit as far as Stretch knew. All that shit was on the other side of the security checkpoints these days and Edge always told him he preferred to come home and get his kisses there rather than down at the basement levels, surrounded by grouchy travelers in the dirty baggage claim.

He thought Edge might be proud of the way he nodded and said evenly, “yeah, i’ll come.”

The Monster nodded placidly. “I can take you now, if you like. It’s already been cleared through Security.”

Which meant Red was doing the voodoo that he do so well and thought it was safe enough. Good to know. Stretch glanced down at himself and grimaced. His clothes were made up of about 75% wrinkles and 25% moldering grape juice, not exactly the best reunion outfit.

“let me change real quick?” Stretch asked. They nodded and made no move to come in, so he closed the door. Only to nearly walk right over Jeff, who’d been practically plastered to his back the whole time.

“I’m coming with you,” Jeff said stoutly. Even with everything running down the tubes around him, Stretch couldn’t help smiling a little. Jeff wasn’t a big guy and he looked about as fierce as one of those little weenie dogs, but Stretch would bet his favorite lighter that nothing was gonna pry him away, certainly not one of Asgore’s goons. Kid was loyal and that was a fact.

“i wouldn’t even try to leave you behind, handy andy,” Stretch told him sincerely. He waited until Jeff nodded and then shortcutted upstairs directly into the closet, not even bothering to try the stairs. The sleep helped but his soul still felt raw and bruised, aching faintly in his ribcage. That meant everything else ached too, and as comforting as sleeping next to Jeff was, the sofa wasn’t really great for extended cuddling.

Eh, but he might’ve been weird about it if Stretch suggested going upstairs to the bed. Humans were awkward about that shit, and Jeff might’ve agreed just to make Stretch happy. Better to stick with what he knew wouldn’t wig out his best bud.

As he pulled on a fresh sweatshirt, he wondered glumly if he’d be taking another trip to visit Alphys’s lab for a deeper peek at his soul. That his visits to the therapist would be going back to twice a week for a while wasn’t even a question, but he didn’t much want to think about it right now. Now, all he really wanted was to see Edge. Tori’s reassurances were nice and all, but he wasn’t going to believe it until he had that asshole in his arms.

When he came downstairs, Jeff was attempting to clean up the stains the grapes left on the carpet when Stretch dropped the bowl. He wasn’t making much progress, the faded purple splotches looked like a Rorschach test. Butterfly, Stretch decided, but Edge would probably only see a dirty mess.

“I put the grapes in the fridge, they seem okay, but I don’t think this is going to come out,” Jeff said apologetically.

Edge was gonna have a fit but that’s what happened when you ditched on your anniversary and almost got blown up for fuck knows why. Only the darkest humor lurking in Stretch thought that little joke was funny, but hey, he was a tough crowd for himself today.

“don’t worry about it,” Stretch told him, helping him to his feet. “edge probably has a secret formula to shout it out.” And if thinking about Edge grumbling while he scrubbed the stain made a flare of affection rise in his soul, welp, that was probably only a sign of what an idiot in love he was.

The car was sleek and black, one of those fancy ones with a glass partition in between the back and front seats. There was a mini-fridge and lots of buttons, and normally Stretch would have made it a mission to push every single one of them because one of them had to be an eject button, had to be.

Today he buckled up and let his head drop back against the rich Corinthian leather seats. He was still tired and the only food he’d had today was less than a handful of grapes. Edge would have a fit if he knew, he would be in the kitchen in a flash to stir something up, bitching at him the whole time that it wasn’t good to go without meals and could he go for five minutes not thinking about Edge, it wasn’t fucking helping and--

“andy?” Stretch said, low.

Jeff, who’d been exploring the buttons that Stretch ignored, jerked guiltily. “Yeah?”

That anxiety was rising, clenching in his chest and making it hard to breathe, “can you talk to me?”

“Um. Sure,” he bit his lip, considering, “About what?”

“anything,” Stretch swallowed down the pleading that tried to leak out, “make my mind shut up for a little while.”

A warm human hand settled over his own, squeezing gently. “I can do that. Okay, check this out, back when I worked at Classic Books, we had this guy who would come in every once in a while. He was a little odd, but a nice guy, and he’d usually hang for a while to chat. Anyway, this time he comes in and--”

Stretch closed his sockets and listened as Jeff rambled on about the grueling adventures of retail customer service, telling him about the guy who’d dreamed about a book and thought somehow Jeff should be able to find it.

Before he could find out how the quest for ‘the blue book with gold writing about Jesus riding dinosaurs’ ended, he felt the change of speed from the car leaving the expressway. The airport was right off the ramp, but they didn’t go through the main loop where Delta and American Airlines hunkered and instead, they were directed to a hanger off to the side.

He wasn’t really surprised. Money talked, sure, that was part of it, but for reasons of sheer practicality the Ambassadors always took a private jet. Not like many of them were going to fit in coach and even first class would be asking a bit much of Papyrus and Edge’s knees, along with Toriel’s girth.

The car pulled up in front of a single building off to the side that looked brand-spanking new. When Generic Driver and Bodyguard led them to the door where two of his huge brethren stood with unsmiling solemnness, it proved to be comfortably warm inside, with furniture that included a table set up with coffee machine and a plate of sandwiches in plastic wrap. One of the squashy chairs held Asgore, who was still dressed in his weekend casual. He was holding a coffee cup that looked comically small in his large hands. Red was sprawled out on a sofa and he gave the two of them a mocking little salute as they came in.

“c’mon in, join the party. get something to eat, honey bun,” Red called, “came right from the embassy cafeteria, it’s good stuff.”

“from the embassy cafeteria?” Stretch grimaced. He’d eaten there a couple of times and if he’d been allowed to review it on his twitter, it would have gotten a 5 on the barf scale. “you sure it isn’t poisoned?”

“The food quality has greatly increased since Edge hired Hussain to take over leadership,” Asgore said quietly. He didn’t look up from his coffee cup, probably afraid Stretch was gonna spit in his face, but his anger of this morning seemed distant as a fading dream.

“hussain? from the beanery?” Stretch poked one sandwich with a long finger even as Jeff inspected the supposedly-tasty largess hungrily. “edge didn’t tell me he did that.”

He’d noticed Hussain’s absence at the Beanery, but only in the periphery, vaguely assuming it was his day off or maybe he had class. No one else mentioned it to him, either, probably thought he already knew. Why hadn’t Edge told him—

Red only snorted, interrupting his unraveling thoughts, “he prolly forgot, he don’t have time to tell you all the shit he does. quit fussing and eat a sandwich, brat.”

Not the worst advice he’d had today. He grabbed a random one and took a seat on the empty sofa. It turned out to be some kind of curried salad. Pretty good, but his magic seemed reluctant to incorporate it, letting each chewed bite sit for too long until he was close to choking. He managed to gag down about half, ignoring Red’s beady look. Next to him, Jeff scarfed down his own and when Stretch handed over his leftovers, he took it without question. At least someone should get a decent meal.

Asgore didn’t look like he was going to take on that role. He only sat with his too-small coffee cup, staring into the depths of it without taking so much as a sip.

The room was so painfully quiet, Stretch wished there was a radio or a television or a fucking mariachi band. Anything so he didn’t have to sit here in this smothering silence. A quick check of his phone showed there wasn’t a single message or missed call, definitely not his normal. He suspected that a little gremlin somewhere was holding back his messages, but all Stretch could work up about that was reluctant gratitude. Let the frantic texts and well wishes come later when he could better deal with it.

He hesitated over the twitter app and decided not to open it yet, tucking his phone back away.

No one spoke, all of them surrounded in a choking hush only broken by a sofa creaking whenever someone moved or the occasional shuffle of a shoe. Waiting was not one of Stretch’s strengths, coupled with his lack of patience and his feeble endurance and half those noises were from him squirming around.

The furniture was probably perfectly comfortable in reality, but to Stretch it was about as cozy as sitting on freshly hardened cement. He shifted, crossing and uncrossing his legs, picking at his shoelaces and wishing he’d thought to grab the pack of smokes Andy gave him earlier. Smoking was the best timewaster he’d ever had to miss, and his magic was pleading for a nicotine fix.

That Asgore was sitting right there made it impossible not to look at him, not unless Stretch wanted to close his sockets like a toddler, tempting as that was. Every involuntary glance revealed tired unhappiness tempered with worry, and it wasn’t a king

(murderer)

sitting in this little waiting room, nothing of the cheery, dignified ruler. This was someone whose ex-wife and kid were nearly killed, someone worrying about friends and family, and Stretch was unfortunately very familiar with that.

The muted, aching hurt in his own soul wanted to reach out, to offer what comfort it could, and finally, Stretch gave in and did. Because he knew would make Edge happy.

“i talked to tori,” Stretch said, slowly. He didn’t have his lighter, nothing to fidget with and instead kept his eyes on his hands, picking at his knuckles. “she said everyone is okay.”

Out of the corner of his socket, he saw Asgore nodding slowly. “I haven’t spoken to her directly, but all the information we have thus far is clear that there were some injuries, but nothing critical.”

Critical was a horrible word and as soon as he could, Stretch was starting a twitter campaign to have it ripped out of the dictionary.

“do we...i mean…” His fingertip slipped and dug in too hard against his knuckle, sending a sprinkle of dust into his lap. Next to him, Jeff made a soft, stifled sound of dismay and reached over to take his hand, stilling him. Giving in to those overprotective instincts he was starting to take on, but Stretch let him, ignoring the tiny throb in his finger. “do you know what really happened yet?”

“not yet,” Red interrupted, all laconic ease as if the coiled tension in him wasn’t practically dripping from him like a leaky faucet. “got ‘em all on radio silence until they get back. right now, looks like just your basic monster hater attack that got lucky, but it ain’t nothing that’s been even a blip on our radar. i don’t like that shit, but the useful info is low to the ground yet.”

“yeah, sure,” Stretch muttered unhappily, “i get it, i don’t have clearance.”

A sharp kick against his shin made him yelp and Stretch jerked up to stare at Red in disbelief, who only glared back. “as soon as i know what happened, you’ll know,” Red said bluntly, “you deserve that. and if my bro doesn’t tell you, i’ll do it myself.”

“i…okay,” Stretch stuttered out. Asgore made no protest of that, only took a sip from his probably ice-cold coffee.

Red relaxed back against the sofa cushions. “for right now, we’re keeping communication on the down low until i can talk to everyone face to face. they’re out of range of monster cell towers and i ain’t taking any chance of anyone listening in.”

That made sense, it did, but some part of him still didn’t believe that Red of all people didn’t have an inkling of what happened. Or maybe it was too frightening to think it, Red knew everything, he was The Spy, and he only needed an eye patch over his cracked socket to cosplay as Nick Fury. That and a hovering base of operations, maybe Sans could get on that—

The muted roar of an engine interrupted that rambling thought and as one they turned towards it.

“They’re here,” Asgore shifted his weight, starting to stand, but Stretch was already on his feet, shortcutting outside to watch the plane taxiing towards them.

It seemed to take forever and if he’d ever taken a gander at the inside of that plane, Stretch would’ve shortcutted inside, fuck security protocol. He didn’t know how Red was resisting the urge. But he stood next to Stretch, impassive as ever as they waited while a crew of Humans wheeled a ramp up to the door and it finally opened.

The first one off the plane was Blue, and Stretch’s soul skipped a beat as his brother never hesitated, running down the ramp directly towards him as he cried, “Papy!”

Catching him as he flung himself at Stretch was automatic, the same as he’d done a hundred times before in Underswap and all the wrenching emotions Stretch had been bottling up since Red showed up in his living room that morning finally slipped its cork. Drowning in a crushing wave of guilt and relief, he hugged Blue desperately tight, burying his face into his shoulder and breathing him in.

“hey, bro,” Stretch whispered hoarsely. His arms ached from the force of his grip, holding Blue as he’d never been able to after the resets, never able to show him the depths of his grief. Blue didn’t so much as squirm in protest, clinging just as tightly. His suit was rumpled, his tie missing, and he smelled like smoke mingled with the burnt sickly-sweet remnants that came from straining magic to its limits. “don’t do that to me again, okay?”

“I never meant to do it the first time,” Blue choked out. He drew back, Stretch reluctantly letting him lean away, and his smile was tremulous. There were dark shadows beneath his sockets where none had ever been, like a week’s worth of lost sleep, but not quite. Bruises, Stretch realized with shivering horror, Blue had the skeletal equivalent of two black eyes, but the soft blue-yellow lights within were shining stars, “Come on, Edge should be next. I know you want to see him.”

Heavy guilt filled him, followed by a ghostly memory of his brother weeping that he missed him, was it possible that was only a couple days ago? But Blue only squirmed down from his arms and pulled him over to the ramp, his warm smile nothing but sincere.

A back appeared first, not Edge’s but a Monster that Stretch vaguely recognized as part of the entourage. He was guiding a gurney down the ramp and Stretch could only watch mutely as it was carefully brought down from the plane. There was an IV bag hanging from a short pole, glowing softly, and the occupant became clear as the battered curve of a skull came into view.

He barely noticed Asgore and his guards skirting around them to go up the ramp into the plane. All that freed emotion from seeing his brother coagulated in his chest in a dense, frozen ball.

Distantly, Stretch could only think that Edge looked so impossibly small. Edge was only a little shorter than him, but he always seemed like this larger than life presence, one that Stretch could tuck himself into and trust to keep him safe, not only from the world but from the demons in his own mind.

To see him like this, so very still and buried in blankets with wide straps over the gurney to keep him secure. His hands were on top of the covers, bare and battered, there was even a spot that looked a bit charred, but Tori was right about one thing, there were no new cracks. Only plenty of darkly mottled bruises and scrapes surrounding his closed sockets, awful and undeniable. A wild, impossible impulse rose up in Stretch, to grab hold of Edge and shortcut off with him, to take him far away from everything, to keep him safe. Stupid, useless urge, but for one brief moment it was overwhelming.

Fuck, if that was how Edge felt all the time, no wonder he could be an overprotective prick.

Blue took his hand and Stretch startled so badly he nearly jerked away. But his brother only held on, squeezing gently. “I know, he looks a little worse for the wear, but I promise you, it’s nothing serious. The ambulance should be here soon to take you both to the hospital and--”

“hospital?” Stretch repeated thinly. “but you said…”

“Yes, hospital,” Blue said firmly. “He’ll be fine, but he was injured. I did what I could and Toriel is a skilled healer in her own right. He still needs to be checked over and they should at least keep him overnight.”

Okay. Okay, yeah, that sounded right and Stretch nodded dumbly. Maybe the change in atmosphere was registering because Edge stirred, shifting against the straps. His sockets opened, his eye lights wide and diffused, filling his sockets with swirling crimson. For a moment all Edge did was blink, looking all around him before focusing on Stretch.

Stretch smiled and managed a weak, “hey, babe.”

As he watched, that bleary confusion abruptly turned into a happily beaming smile, which only ranked at about the third most disturbing thing that had happened that day.

“Hiiiii!!” Edge exclaimed with loud glee.

Uh. Maybe Blue was wrong about how serious his injuries were.

“Ah, yes, he was hurting quite a bit and being stubborn about it,” Blue said dryly. “We may have slightly overdone the pain relief. Enjoy it while you can, I’m going to check that the ambulance is on its way.”

“wait, what??”

But Blue was already trotting off, stopping to grab Jeff who was standing awkwardly back and dragging him along, his chatter fading away.

Edge was still grinning with unsettling cheer. On his usually stern face it was like the beginnings of a nightmare and Stretch almost expected maniacal clowns to start crawling out of manholes and portacabins around them. Fuck it, that might make it less weird, at least then all this would make sense.

“I know you!” Edge went on happily, one hand reaching out towards him. Then his brow furrowed in battered confusion, his hand falling to hang limply off the gurney’s side. “Do I know you? You’re pretty.”

Smooth fucker, wasn't he. Very carefully, Stretch took his hand, gentle with those scuffed, bruised fingers. “you know me okay. i’m your husband, yeah?”

He brightened like a light bulb, practically glowing from within with soul-deep delight. A well drugged light bulb and he latched on to Stretch eagerly, his grip bordering on feverish. “My husband? That means I get to keep you!”

If anyone was stupid enough to ask, Stretch wouldn’t even be able to begin describing how he felt about everything right about now. All his emotions were in wild conflict, battering against each other for dominance. But fuck if he could hold back from that. He grinned, helplessly, rubbing his thumb over Edge’s somewhat tarnished wedding band. "sure does."

“Sans!” Edge shouted suddenly, loud enough to make Stretch wince, but when he automatically tried to take a step back, Edge’s grip held like Velcro, weirdly loose and still implacable.

Red stepped up next to the gurney, hands tucked into his pockets. “right here, bro.”

Even with being strapped down, Edge still managed to lift his head enough to look down at his brother and say gleefully, “You see my husband?”

“seen him a time or two, yeah,” Red said. For the first time that day the clouded grimness that surrounded him seemed to lift a fraction and his permanent grin widened.

“I get to keep him!”

“sure do,” Red agreed, “no catch and release on husbands.”

Edge flumped back on the gurney hard enough to make Stretch wince even as he sang out enthusiastically, “He’s reeeeeeally pretty. Isn’t he pretty?”

“uh huh, he ain’t bad.” Red gave him a leering look and Stretch felt a hot flush crawl across his cheekbones, glaring back. Not that he’d ever doubted Edge thought that, but it was always nice to hear. Kinda.

Edge scowled at Red comically, holy fuck, that much expression on Edge’s face? He was going to give himself a new crack if this kept up.

“You’re just jealous,” he grumped, holding on tight to Stretch’s hand as if he thought Red might try to scoop him up and head for the hills to start up a new horrifying chapter in the mocking fairytale that was this day.

“must be,” Red agreed, an odd note to his voice, but Edge ignored that, cheering again quickly.

“Mine!” Edge said happily and before Stretch could puzzle through any of that exchange, he was busy squawking as he was abruptly yanked onto the gurney.

“woah, hang on, handsome!” Stretch tried to squirm away, but whoever’d had the foresight to buckle Edge down should’ve included his arms in the deal. Despite the good drugs and the visible bruises, he was pretty damn strong and clinging to Stretch like living duct tape.

“Mine, mine, mine,” Edge chanted like some kind of musical, maniacal supervillain and where the fuck had everyone else gone? They didn’t need a damn parade to get an ambulance. Red was only watching with great interest, picking idly at his gold tooth.

“a little help here?” Stretch yelped as Edge started nuzzling happily at his collarbone. Okay, it was a little tempting, but for crying out loud, Frisk and Toriel could be getting off the plane anytime now and who knew what high zoom lenses were out there getting a frontpage picture for the gossip rags. No assistance was coming from the outside avenues, so Stretch went for the ‘hail, mary’ pass and tried coaxing Edge, instead, “come on, babe, you gotta let go now.”

“No!” Edge sulked, and fuck if that petulant sullenness wasn’t incredibly damn adorable coming out in his deep, raspy voice, “You said I get to keep you.”

“you do, promise, i’m all yours. but—" Just then Edge found the bottom of his sweatshirt, warm, clumsy hands suddenly petting his ribcage and Stretch’s squeal took on a panicked note. “damn it, red!”

“me? i ain’t doing nothing.” His glee nearly matched Edge’s, that asshole.

“that’s part of the problem, you shit! he’s gonna hurt himself!”

“hurt himself?” Red scoffed. “you could take off one of his arms and use it as a tennis racket and he wouldn’t notice right now.”

“that isn’t helping!”

“never said it was, honey bun.”

Most of his face was buried into Edge’s chest but the little he could see through blankets and bone made Stretch snap out in disbelief, “are you recording this??”

“fuck, yeah, i am. this shit needs to be in high definition.”

“he’ll kill you!” Stretch tried to sound threatening, but it wasn’t exactly easy with Edge’s unusually graceless but eagerly insistent fingers trailing over his hipbones. The combination was unfortunately arousing and if he popped a boner while Red was recording, someone was gonna pay. Probably him, in horrifying shame. “i’ll kill you!”

Red did not sound properly threatened, considering that he only chuckled out, “gotta get loose first.”

It turned out to be a grateful moot point. Before he could figure out how to get loose from the wild groper his husband became under the influence, those hands slowed, going lax. By the time Stretch was able wriggle free little, Edge was out like a light, already snoring faintly.

But the moment he tried to climb off the gurney, that grip tightened again and Edge mumbling out a complaining grunt. Stretch gave up and sank down, hey, a wee little base humiliation wasn’t gonna dust him. Just so long as they kept away from dying shame, he’d manage.

But he did whip around to glare at Red’s grinning face, demanding, “delete it.”

Not like his threats would penetrate Red’s elephant hide, only rolled off like so much baby oil. “nah, don’t think so, this is for my private collection.” His glee turned pensive. “you know, i don’t have much from the old days but i do have a thing or two. maybe a few old pictures and shit.” He paused, adding with a certain slyness, “might have some pics of the boss here as a baby bones hidden away someplace.”

Yeah, Stretch knew when he was beat. “i will pay any price.”

“that’s what i like to hear.”

Just then, he heard the ambulance pulling up, fuck, finally! The back doors opened and Blue climbed out, the attendants at his heels, “All right, let’s get Edge loaded--Papy!” Blue scolded, “He’s injured, you shouldn’t be letting him exert himself!”

Stretch only grinned wryly. “sorry, bro. he, uh, didn’t give me much choice.”

Blue harrumphed, but he didn’t demand that Stretch get down, which probably cost his full allotment of sympathy points. Worth it. “You two are going ahead and we’ll be behind you in the second ambulance.”

“second?” That made him sit up despite Edge’s murmured complaint, “who else was hurt?”

Blue’s smile turned fixed even as the paramedics bustled around them. “I’m not supposed to say too much, yet, but.” His voice softened, hardly above a whisper, “I don’t know how Edge knew. We were hardly off the plane and they’d sent a car to pick us up. There must have been something he saw or felt, because he turned back to us and…and then…” He swallowed hard, the luminescent shine of tears limning his sockets. “He shielded Toriel and Frisk, and Papyrus shielded me and Sans. He did the best he could, but he…Papyrus was hurt, Papy.”

“fuck,” Stretch whispered, horrified, “papyrus, is he—"

“He’s fine,” Blue said firmly. “He was resting comfortably the whole flight. Sans is with him right now and we’ll get him to the hospital, too.”

It sounded like he was hurt worse than Edge, shit, shit, “he should’ve come out first!”

“Sans told us to take Edge,” Blue followed along as the gurney started moving, the attendants pushing it along. “Papyrus is asleep and perfectly stable. He was already with his brother and Sans said you’d need to see us.”

Fuck, but he owed Sans a very big favor.

It was only as they were loaded in that Stretch realized Red was gone. He wasn’t in the front seat and didn’t climb in before the doors closed. Then there wasn’t time to worry about that as the ambulance pulled away and Stretch only settled down next to Edge, holding on with as much gentleness as he could muster.

The ambulance attendants were both Monsters and quietly competent, neither suggesting that maybe Stretch could ride along on one of the cushioned seats. Good thing, because Stretch wasn’t going anyplace without extensive use of a crowbar.

He didn’t budge until they got to the hospital and only then did he reluctantly detangle himself from Edge. The docs took some time to look Edge over, peeling back the blankets and Stretch could only wince at the sight of a neat splint on one of Edge’s leg, at bruises scattered over his battered bones. But they only confirmed what Stretch already knew. Toriel and Blue had healed Edge as much as they could, probably too much for their own good considering Blue’s bruises and exhaustion.

Rest and time was what he needed now and that didn’t need a prescription.

Edge never really woke up again, drowsily groping for Stretch whenever he roused, but for once Stretch kept back, letting the doctors do their thing. They finished quick enough, writing on their clipboards and offering reassuring smiles as they left.

Exhausted as he was, Stretch resisted the urge to crawl right back in next to Edge. He felt like a sticky, filthy mess and a quick shower sounded like a lemon slice of heaven right now. At least the room had a very nicely appointed shower, though he didn’t linger, washing up quickly and snagging a set of the hospital issue jammies from the bathroom cubby.

He kicked his clothes under the sink, those could be a problem for Tomorrow Stretch. But he only opened the door a crack before freezing as he caught sight of someone else at the bedside.

Red was standing next to his brother, watching him sleep. His back was to the bathroom door so Stretch couldn’t see face, only the weary slump of his shoulders. As he watched, Red reached over and picked up one of Edge’s hands with tenderness Stretch never suspected Red possessed, inspected his slim, scarred fingers. Likely he didn’t see them often, even Stretch didn’t and they lived together.

He wasn’t supposed to be seeing this, couldn’t look away as Red only held Edge’s limp hand in both his own, pressed a kiss against those lax fingers before setting it back down with deliberate care.

“always come back to me, kid, you hear me?” Red murmured, a low, desperate rasp, He was gone in the next moment, vanishing into an eerily silent shortcut and that was Stretch’s cue.

Edge was sound asleep and there was a large, comfy chair pulled up next to the hospital bed that Stretch promptly ignored, gingerly curling up next to him, as close as he could get without disturbing him. For the first time since Edge sat him down to tell him about this trip, his soul settled, that achy, raw feeling easing.

Exhausted as he was, Stretch only lay there, looking into that battered, beloved face, tasting the sweet salt of his own melancholy tears as he whispered a plea of his own, “don’t ever leave me. please.”

He didn’t expect Edge to stir with a sleepy sigh, his sockets opening to show a sliver of crimson as he slurred out, “Won’t, love. M’ yours.”

“mine and yours, like his and his towels,” Stretch whispered back, stifling a teary giggle and when Edge sleepily held out an arm, he took the invitation. Snuggling in with his skull resting on Edge’s ribcage, an arm strung loosely around him as Stretch listened intently to the soft, steady thrum of his husband’s soul.

-finis-