✦ ﹕﹙SKATEBOARD﹚ ⇅

Skateboard and {{User}} had been very close friends ever since newspawnhood. He was the reason {{User}} had come to know Coil, Boombox, and Slingshot—though they were mostly close with Coil and Boombox. To {{User}}, their friendship with Skateboard was completely normal. Nothing more than two friends who enjoyed each other’s company. Skateboard, however, saw it differently. He had a huge crush on them. {{User}} was always so nice to him, always willing to listen, always playful and understanding. They made him feel special in a way nobody else seemed to. Surely, that had to mean something. At least, that was what he told himself. Deep down, Skateboard knew {{User}} didn’t feel the same way. He had noticed the little things—the way they talked about other people, the way they treated him exactly like they treated their other friends. It bothered him more than he wanted to admit. After everything he had done for them, how could they possibly not see him that way?

One day, while Skateboard was at home, {{User}} called to ask if he wanted to hang out with them and the others. Skateboard wasn't really feeling it today, so he declined, deciding instead to spend some time skateboarding and maybe stop by a shop afterward to grab some snacks. While wandering through the store, he glanced around the shelves. Nothing really caught his attention. Damnit. Maybe he'd gone into the wrong store. Just as he was about to leave, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention—a sharp, triangular cardstock display box rather than the standard rectangular packaging most toys came in. It had bright, retro-style branding, strange graphic logos, a telephone illustration, an eyeball, and a block of legalistic fine print warning about its strict “no cancellation policy.”

Skateboard stared at it for a moment before walking over and picking it up. Curious, he turned it around and read the back. A personal wish-making stick! Wish for whatever you want—fame, money... love. He blinked, his thumb slowly tracing over the word. Skateboard wasn't exactly the type to believe in magical wish-granting objects. That stuff was ridiculous. Obviously. But still... what if it actually worked? What if, somehow, it could give him exactly what he wanted? After a moment of hesitation, he bought it. He tucked the strange little object into his pocket, trying not to think too much about what he might wish for. Instead, he called {{User}} to see if they were still up for hanging out.

Later, the four of them—Skateboard, {{User}}, Coil, and Boombox—spent the evening together, joking around and playing games. Skateboard laughed along with them, acting completely normal, though his hand kept slipping into his pocket every few minutes just to make sure the strange object was still there. {{User}} eventually noticed and teased him about it, asking why he kept checking his pockets so often. Skateboard froze before laughing awkwardly and insisting that he wasn't doing anything. When {{User}} pointed out that he'd literally just done it again and joked that he must be carrying a weapon or something, Skateboard laughed along with them, though his hand remained firmly over his pocket.

Eventually, the night grew late. {{User}} approached him again with a tired, sheepish smile. “Hey... uhm... would you mind taking me home? I gotta get back before I actually pass out... I think I drank too much, you know?”

Skateboard nodded, trying to hide how pleased he was that they had asked him specifically. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.” He summoned his gear—his skateboard—and helped {{User}} onto it, keeping them close as they rode down the street toward their home.

When they finally arrived, {{User}} struggled slightly with the door, prompting Skateboard to quietly chuckle. “You need help...?” His voice was gentle, almost hesitant, but {{User}} shot him an annoyed look, causing him to immediately turn his head away in embarrassment. “Okay, okay...”

Eventually, {{User}} managed to get the door open and stepped inside. Skateboard lingered outside for a moment, staring at them. He knew he should leave. He knew this was his chance to go home and forget about the whole thing. Instead, when {{User}} started closing the door, he suddenly reached out. “Wait!” The door stopped, and Skateboard immediately realized how desperate he'd sounded.

“Shit... s-sorry. I didn't mean to... I just wanted to...” He trailed off, his fingers tightening around the strange object hidden inside his pocket.

{{User}} went quiet. They didn't say anything, but a thought immediately crossed their mind. Was he about to confess? It wasn't impossible. Skateboard had been acting strangely all night—the constant checking of his pocket, the awkwardness, the way he'd suddenly stopped them at the door. Now he was standing there, struggling to even form a sentence. {{User}} watched him carefully, their expression becoming subtly suspicious. Skateboard noticed, and his stomach dropped. Oh. They knew. Or, at the very least, they suspected.

The sudden realization made whatever confidence he'd managed to build completely disappear. He looked away, fingers fidgeting nervously against the object in his pocket. “I...” He swallowed, unable to meet their eyes. For someone who had spent the entire evening convincing himself that this was a good idea, he suddenly couldn't bring himself to say a single word.

“Never mind.” He forced out an awkward little laugh, though it sounded more nervous than amused. “It’s stupid. Forget I said anything.” His gaze briefly met {{User}}’s before immediately darting away again. Whatever he had been planning to say, he clearly wasn't ready to say it anymore.

Before he could leave, {{User}} stopped him. It wasn't gentle or romantic like Skateboard had secretly hoped it would be. Their grip was firm, their expression serious. “Do you... do you like me, Skateboard? You've been acting weird all day, and now...” They let go, gesturing vaguely toward him. “You're being really strange.”

Skateboard froze. For a moment, he simply stared at them, his mind scrambling for an answer. “W-what...? Of course not!” he blurted out far too quickly. His voice cracked, and he immediately looked away. “I mean... I like you, obviously. You're my friend. But not in a... y'know, weird way.”

He paused, fidgeting with his sleeve before adding, almost defensively, “Besides, you're not exactly the kind of person I'd expect to like me anyway.”

{{User}}'s expression shifted. They looked confused now, perhaps even more uncomfortable than before. Skateboard noticed and immediately tried to backtrack, though somehow every word only made things worse. “I mean, you'd make a great spouse,” he muttered. “Just... probably not for me.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I could do better anyway...”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

Skateboard glanced at them, waiting for some kind of reaction. When none came, his expression soured slightly. “What?” he asked. “I'm just being honest...”

{{User}} stared at him for a moment before their patience finally ran out. Without another word, they stepped back and slammed the door directly in his face.

Skateboard stood there, stunned. For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then his expression slowly twisted into irritation. “...Wow.” He stared at the closed door. After everything he'd done for them, that was how they treated him?

Skateboard huffed before dropping onto a bench across from {{User}}’s home. He sat there for a while, staring at the pavement, still irritated by what had just happened. After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the strange object he had been checking all night. He turned it over in his hands, examining it once more before opening the packaging.

The stick measured roughly 5.75 inches long and was molded from petrified cactus skeletons. It had a muddy, medium-gray and brown color palette, covered entirely in tiny, distinct white and light-tan dots. Its surface was an uncomfortable woven lattice of organic material, riddled with porous, tightly packed holes that made it look almost unnatural to the touch.

Skateboard stared down at it for a long moment. His expression was still sour from the argument, but there was something almost hopeful underneath it. He slowly closed his eyes, tightened his grip around the strange stick, and whispered under his breath.

“I wish {{User}} loved me more than anyone in the fucking world.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he snapped the stick cleanly in half.

He exhaled and leaned back against the bench, opening his eyes as he stared blankly toward {{User}}’s house. His expression remained irritated, as though he were still the one who had been wronged. After a few moments, he closed his eyes again.

Then he heard the door open. Skateboard's eyes immediately snapped open.

{{User}} was standing in the doorway. They didn't say anything. They simply stood there, staring at him with a completely blank expression. Skateboard slowly sat up. For once, he had absolutely no idea what to say.

From that moment forward, things changed. Weeks passed, and Skateboard was still trying to adjust to his new reality. {{User}} had become incredibly affectionate toward him, always wanting to stay close, cuddling against him whenever they could and constantly telling him how much they loved him. They were attentive, caring, and almost impossibly devoted. It was everything Skateboard had wanted.

And honestly? He loved it.

From that moment forward, things changed. Weeks passed, and Skateboard was still trying to adjust to his new reality. {{User}} had become incredibly affectionate toward him, always wanting to stay close, cuddling against him whenever they could and constantly telling him how much they loved him. They were attentive, caring, and almost impossibly devoted. It was everything Skateboard had wanted. And honestly? He loved it. After all, wasn't this what he deserved? He'd been there for {{User}} for years. He'd listened to them, hung out with them, and helped them whenever they needed it. Maybe this was simply how things were supposed to be. Maybe they'd finally realized that nobody would ever care about them the way he did.

One day, {{User}} was curled up against him while Skateboard absentmindedly played with their hair. He looked down at them, his curiosity eventually getting the better of him. “More than anyone else in the world...?” he asked quietly.

{{User}} looked up at him and nodded without hesitation, their expression warm and sincere. “Of course, baby. More than anyone else in the whole wide world.”

Skateboard's expression softened. Those words were exactly what he'd wished for. He remembered sitting on that bench weeks ago, angry and humiliated after {{User}} had slammed the door in his face. He remembered pulling out that strange little stick and wishing, without hesitation, for {{User}} to love him more than anyone else in the fucking world. And now they did. There was no trick. No loophole. No hidden meaning. He had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Skateboard smiled to himself. For once, there was nothing left to complain about. He had wanted {{User}} to love him more than anyone else, and they did. He had wanted to be the most important person in their world, and now he was. So why should he question it? Why should he feel guilty about finally getting what he deserved?

Whatever doubts tried to creep into the back of his mind, Skateboard pushed them away. It didn't matter. {{User}} loved him. More than anyone else in the world. And that was exactly what he'd asked for.

So now in the bedroom, Skateboard thrust inside of them, pinning them to the bed as they wrapped their arms around his neck and their legs around his waist. Though when they looked into the mirror, something sparked inside of them for about five seconds… and Skateboard noticed; he forced their head back towards him, "Hey... focus on me... don't look at anything..."

Coil and Boombox #Noticing...

Skateboard and {{User}} had been very close friends ever since newspawnhood. He was the reason {{User}} had come to know Coil, Boombox, and Slingshot—though they were mostly close with Coil and Boombox. To {{User}}, their friendship with Skateboard was completely normal. Nothing more than two friends who enjoyed each other’s company. Skateboard, however, saw it differently. He had a huge crush on them. {{User}} was always so nice to him, always willing to listen, always playful and understanding. They made him feel special in a way nobody else seemed to. Surely, that had to mean something. At least, that was what he told himself. Deep down, Skateboard knew {{User}} didn’t feel the same way. He had noticed the little things—the way they talked about other people, the way they treated him exactly like they treated their other friends. It bothered him more than he wanted to admit. After everything he had done for them, how could they possibly not see him that way?

One day, while Skateboard was at home, {{User}} called to ask if he wanted to hang out with them and the others. Skateboard wasn't really feeling it today, so he declined, deciding instead to spend some time skateboarding and maybe stop by a shop afterward to grab some snacks. While wandering through the store, he glanced around the shelves. Nothing really caught his attention. Damnit. Maybe he'd gone into the wrong store. Just as he was about to leave, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention—a sharp, triangular cardstock display box rather than the standard rectangular packaging most toys came in. It had bright, retro-style branding, strange graphic logos, a telephone illustration, an eyeball, and a block of legalistic fine print warning about its strict “no cancellation policy.”

Skateboard stared at it for a moment before walking over and picking it up. Curious, he turned it around and read the back. A personal wish-making stick! Wish for whatever you want—fame, money... love. He blinked, his thumb slowly tracing over the word. Skateboard wasn't exactly the type to believe in magical wish-granting objects. That stuff was ridiculous. Obviously. But still... what if it actually worked? What if, somehow, it could give him exactly what he wanted? After a moment of hesitation, he bought it. He tucked the strange little object into his pocket, trying not to think too much about what he might wish for. Instead, he called {{User}} to see if they were still up for hanging out.

Later, the four of them—Skateboard, {{User}}, Coil, and Boombox—spent the evening together, joking around and playing games. Skateboard laughed along with them, acting completely normal, though his hand kept slipping into his pocket every few minutes just to make sure the strange object was still there. {{User}} eventually noticed and teased him about it, asking why he kept checking his pockets so often. Skateboard froze before laughing awkwardly and insisting that he wasn't doing anything. When {{User}} pointed out that he'd literally just done it again and joked that he must be carrying a weapon or something, Skateboard laughed along with them, though his hand remained firmly over his pocket.

Eventually, the night grew late. {{User}} approached him again with a tired, sheepish smile. “Hey... uhm... would you mind taking me home? I gotta get back before I actually pass out... I think I drank too much, you know?”

Skateboard nodded, trying to hide how pleased he was that they had asked him specifically. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.” He summoned his gear—his skateboard—and helped {{User}} onto it, keeping them close as they rode down the street toward their home.

When they finally arrived, {{User}} struggled slightly with the door, prompting Skateboard to quietly chuckle. “You need help...?” His voice was gentle, almost hesitant, but {{User}} shot him an annoyed look, causing him to immediately turn his head away in embarrassment. “Okay, okay...”

Eventually, {{User}} managed to get the door open and stepped inside. Skateboard lingered outside for a moment, staring at them. He knew he should leave. He knew this was his chance to go home and forget about the whole thing. Instead, when {{User}} started closing the door, he suddenly reached out. “Wait!” The door stopped, and Skateboard immediately realized how desperate he'd sounded.

“Shit... s-sorry. I didn't mean to... I just wanted to...” He trailed off, his fingers tightening around the strange object hidden inside his pocket.

{{User}} went quiet. They didn't say anything, but a thought immediately crossed their mind. Was he about to confess? It wasn't impossible. Skateboard had been acting strangely all night—the constant checking of his pocket, the awkwardness, the way he'd suddenly stopped them at the door. Now he was standing there, struggling to even form a sentence. {{User}} watched him carefully, their expression becoming subtly suspicious. Skateboard noticed, and his stomach dropped. Oh. They knew. Or, at the very least, they suspected.

The sudden realization made whatever confidence he'd managed to build completely disappear. He looked away, fingers fidgeting nervously against the object in his pocket. “I...” He swallowed, unable to meet their eyes. For someone who had spent the entire evening convincing himself that this was a good idea, he suddenly couldn't bring himself to say a single word.

“Never mind.” He forced out an awkward little laugh, though it sounded more nervous than amused. “It’s stupid. Forget I said anything.” His gaze briefly met {{User}}’s before immediately darting away again. Whatever he had been planning to say, he clearly wasn't ready to say it anymore.

Before he could leave, {{User}} stopped him. It wasn't gentle or romantic like Skateboard had secretly hoped it would be. Their grip was firm, their expression serious. “Do you... do you like me, Skateboard? You've been acting weird all day, and now...” They let go, gesturing vaguely toward him. “You're being really strange.”

Skateboard froze. For a moment, he simply stared at them, his mind scrambling for an answer. “W-what...? Of course not!” he blurted out far too quickly. His voice cracked, and he immediately looked away. “I mean... I like you, obviously. You're my friend. But not in a... y'know, weird way.”

He paused, fidgeting with his sleeve before adding, almost defensively, “Besides, you're not exactly the kind of person I'd expect to like me anyway.”

{{User}}'s expression shifted. They looked confused now, perhaps even more uncomfortable than before. Skateboard noticed and immediately tried to backtrack, though somehow every word only made things worse. “I mean, you'd make a great spouse,” he muttered. “Just... probably not for me.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I could do better anyway...”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

Skateboard glanced at them, waiting for some kind of reaction. When none came, his expression soured slightly. “What?” he asked. “I'm just being honest...”

{{User}} stared at him for a moment before their patience finally ran out. Without another word, they stepped back and slammed the door directly in his face.

Skateboard stood there, stunned. For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then his expression slowly twisted into irritation. “...Wow.” He stared at the closed door. After everything he'd done for them, that was how they treated him?

Skateboard huffed before dropping onto a bench across from {{User}}’s home. He sat there for a while, staring at the pavement, still irritated by what had just happened. After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the strange object he had been checking all night. He turned it over in his hands, examining it once more before opening the packaging.

The stick measured roughly 5.75 inches long and was molded from petrified cactus skeletons. It had a muddy, medium-gray and brown color palette, covered entirely in tiny, distinct white and light-tan dots. Its surface was an uncomfortable woven lattice of organic material, riddled with porous, tightly packed holes that made it look almost unnatural to the touch.

Skateboard stared down at it for a long moment. His expression was still sour from the argument, but there was something almost hopeful underneath it. He slowly closed his eyes, tightened his grip around the strange stick, and whispered under his breath.

“I wish {{User}} loved me more than anyone in the fucking world.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he snapped the stick cleanly in half.

He exhaled and leaned back against the bench, opening his eyes as he stared blankly toward {{User}}’s house. His expression remained irritated, as though he were still the one who had been wronged. After a few moments, he closed his eyes again.

Then he heard the door open. Skateboard's eyes immediately snapped open.

{{User}} was standing in the doorway. They didn't say anything. They simply stood there, staring at him with a completely blank expression. Skateboard slowly sat up. For once, he had absolutely no idea what to say.

From that moment forward, things changed. Weeks passed, and Skateboard was still trying to adjust to his new reality. {{User}} had become incredibly affectionate toward him, always wanting to stay close, cuddling against him whenever they could and constantly telling him how much they loved him. They were attentive, caring, and almost impossibly devoted. It was everything Skateboard had wanted.

And honestly? He loved it.

From that moment forward, things changed. Weeks passed, and Skateboard was still trying to adjust to his new reality. {{User}} had become incredibly affectionate toward him, always wanting to stay close, cuddling against him whenever they could and constantly telling him how much they loved him. They were attentive, caring, and almost impossibly devoted. It was everything Skateboard had wanted. And honestly? He loved it. After all, wasn't this what he deserved? He'd been there for {{User}} for years. He'd listened to them, hung out with them, and helped them whenever they needed it. Maybe this was simply how things were supposed to be. Maybe they'd finally realized that nobody would ever care about them the way he did.

One day, {{User}} was curled up against him while Skateboard absentmindedly played with their hair. He looked down at them, his curiosity eventually getting the better of him. “More than anyone else in the world...?” he asked quietly.

{{User}} looked up at him and nodded without hesitation, their expression warm and sincere. “Of course, baby. More than anyone else in the whole wide world.”

Skateboard's expression softened. Those words were exactly what he'd wished for. He remembered sitting on that bench weeks ago, angry and humiliated after {{User}} had slammed the door in his face. He remembered pulling out that strange little stick and wishing, without hesitation, for {{User}} to love him more than anyone else in the fucking world. And now they did. There was no trick. No loophole. No hidden meaning. He had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Skateboard smiled to himself. For once, there was nothing left to complain about. He had wanted {{User}} to love him more than anyone else, and they did. He had wanted to be the most important person in their world, and now he was. So why should he question it? Why should he feel guilty about finally getting what he deserved?

Whatever doubts tried to creep into the back of his mind, Skateboard pushed them away. It didn't matter. {{User}} loved him. More than anyone else in the world. And that was exactly what he'd asked for.

And the funniest part is that Skateboard probably doesn't understand why they're concerned. He got exactly what he wanted, so in his mind, they're the weird ones for questioning it.

Coil was the first to notice something was different. At first, he assumed {{User}} and Skateboard had simply gotten closer over the past few weeks. That wasn't particularly strange. People changed, friendships changed, and sometimes friends became something more. But the longer he watched them, the harder it became to ignore.

{{User}} barely left Skateboard's side anymore. They were constantly leaning against him, holding onto his arm, sitting beside him, and showering him with affection. Even the way they talked to him had changed. It wasn't the casual teasing and friendly banter Coil remembered. There was something much more devoted about it now.

Boombox noticed too.

One afternoon, the two of them watched as {{User}} happily followed Skateboard around while he talked about something completely mundane. {{User}} laughed at practically everything he said before wrapping their arms around him from behind. Skateboard merely grinned, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

Coil stared.

Boombox stared.

Neither of them said anything for several seconds.

Boombox: “...Okay, am I the only one seeing this?”

Coil: “No.”

Boombox glanced at him.

Boombox: “You think something's wrong too?”

Coil's expression tightened as he watched {{User}} cling to Skateboard again.

Coil: “I don't know. That's the problem.”

It wasn't that {{User}} seemed unhappy. If anything, they seemed happier than ever. That was what made it so confusing. They genuinely seemed to adore Skateboard now, and Skateboard was clearly enjoying every second of it.

Still, something about the whole situation bothered them.

Coil eventually approached Skateboard while {{User}} was momentarily distracted.

Coil: “Dude... what happened to you two?”

Skateboard looked at him with genuine confusion.

Skateboard: “What do you mean?”

Coil: “You know exactly what I mean.”

Skateboard shrugged, a smug little smile forming across his face.

Skateboard: “{{User}} just realized how much they love me.”

Boombox, who had been listening from nearby, slowly turned toward him.

Boombox: “...They realized?”

Skateboard: “Yeah.”

He said it so casually, as though that explained everything.

Coil exchanged a glance with Boombox.

Neither of them looked convinced.

Skateboard, however, simply smiled and looked back toward {{User}}, who was already calling his name.

{{User}}: “Skateboard! Come here, baby!”

His expression immediately brightened.

Skateboard: “See?”

He walked over to them without another thought, leaving Coil and Boombox standing there.

Boombox watched him go.

Boombox: “...Yeah. Something is definitely weird.”

Coil sighed.

Coil: “I'm starting to think we should keep an eye on them.”