Latest Posts by mirrors-and-mornings - Page 2

Very Brief Guide to [tumblr], for Reddit refugees

Shit You Must Do Right Fucking Now:

Change your profile picture, blog header, and title to something other than the defaults. Do it right now. You will be mistaken for a bot otherwise, and blocked.

Go into Settings -> Dashboard, scroll down to Preferences, and turn off the options in the picture. This will get rid of most of the algorithmic stuff.

Turn off Tumblr Live. You have to snooze it once every 7 days for some stupid reason. It's hosted through another company and will steal your data if you use it.

Go to your blog settings (under the little person menu) and turn off these two settings:

Turn off infinite scroll (lags the site) and turn on timestamps on posts, in the same menu as Preferences.

Basic Features of the Site:

Reblogs drive the entire site. If you'd upvote something on Reddit, you'd reblog it on Tumblr. You can add text, images, or tags to a reblog, but you're not required to.

The dashboard is the equivalent to your Reddit feed, and contains the posts of all the people you follow, with the newest at the top

You can send an ask to someone, and it'll appear in their askbox for them to answer. You can receive them too, or turn off the settings if you don't want.

Tags aren't actually used for finding stuff (search function is dogshit), but are more for categorizing. People also talk in tags. Because Tumblr is weird, you can't use quotation marks (") or commas in them without fucking it up

You can filter both tags and phrases under Account Settings; doing this will put a filter over a post that contains them, which you'll have to click through to see the post itself. Useful for avoiding hate speech or blocking out annoying stuff

You can make polls in posts. Here's one now.

Likes are useless. They literally do fuck-all except send a notification to the OP.

Stuff Tumblr Does That Other Sites Don't:

Very old posts (I'm talking from like 2012) often circulate on this site. There's no such thing as a post being "too old" to reblog

Blocking is highly encouraged; you can block someone for any reason. Even for just being annoying.

If you and someone else are following each other, you are mutuals. Mutuals are fucking awesome and are treasured like friends. Mutuals are a thing on other sites but Tumblr treats em differently.

You can screenshot someone's tags if you like them and add them to a reblog. This is called "peer review"

Sometimes someone will find a blog and go through it and like/reblog a bunch of posts. This is totally fine and not "creepy" like it is seen as on other sites.

Tumblr jokes often rely on Continuing The Bit and a "yes, and?" attitude. Goncharov is probably the best example of this.

We are fucking infested with bots. They will either have totally blank profiles or be filled with porn. Block and report on sight.

Censorship is pretty lax here. I can say "I want to brutally stab Elon Musk to death and watch him bleed out in front of a crowd" and nobody gives a shit.

General Etiquette:

Don't try to do epic clapbacks here, you'll probably just get laughed at or blocked. If someone is bugging you or spouting bigoted bullshit, block them.

Reblog art!!! Artists often struggle to gain traction on here; reblogging will give them a boost.

Not every reblog needs a comment or tag in it

You can go all out with tagging your stuff to organize it, or you can just leave it all blank. Someone might ask "hey, can you tag these posts as [x]?" and you can decide if you want to do that or not. It's generally polite to oblige, but "no" is still reasonable.

Avoid discourse like the plague. Filter it, block people who start it, scroll past it when you see it. Just don't get involved in it. Ever.

Don't put fandom tags or jokes on someone's posts about serious matters or personal shit

You're responsible for curating your own dashboard; if you complain about constantly seeing stuff you don't like, that's probably on you. Don't be afraid to unfollow.

Follower count doesn't matter much here and you don't have to make yours known if you don't want to.

Reblog, don't repost. Reblogging keeps the credit and doesn't "steal" engagement like Twitter retweets.

If someone likes something a LOT, they might reblog it like 30 times in a row. This is normal

Having a post blow up is actually kinda a bad thing, since it floods your notifications. There's a sort of in-joke about how having a big post is awful and people jokingly try to stop their own posts from blowing up, often in vain.

Tips:

Get XKit Rewritten if you're on desktop, it's a really helpful extension

In the little drop-down menu next to the 'Post now' button you can either save a draft, schedule a post, or add it to your queue. The queue lets you post things in order at a certain interval, which you can change. It's good for spreading stuff out over time.

You can use Shift+R to quickly reblog stuff and Shift+Q to queue!

Filter your notifications under Activity - you can also see some neat graphs

Find each other! If you want your old Reddit communities to stick together, seek out other refugees and follow them.

Have fun on [tumblr], everyone!

What would the bad sanses do if their s/o asked for a kiss? an they give their s/o a smooch but then their s/o is like "i wanted a hershey kiss..but thanks for the smooch" or something like that??

Error: "No, th0se are m-m-mine."

Nightmare: "Ah, those are in the kitchen, you are welcome to them."

Horror: Hold on, he's got...no wait, maybe it's...he has some somewhere

Killer: "ha! nice one, hold on." He will put a chocolate in his mouth and make you kiss him for it.

Dust: "you are full of lies, come here."

Hey hey hey, could I maybe get an ABC or any letter you'd like with any bad guy sans you'd like? Love your writting btw -🦢

ABC's of dating Killer Sans!

:DDD Thank you!

hmmmm, I think I really want to write this one about Killer. He doesn't really get a lot of attention from me, LOL.

A = Affections (How do they show their love)

Killer is a certified jackass, he does things simply to rile others up and get a reaction for his own amusement. Naturally that falls into place when he is with you, too. He LOVES your reactions, because they are so.. you! He cant always predict them, and he loves that about you.

 B = Body part (Their favorite body part.)

As a skeleton, its probably going to have to be your skin. OR your hair. He loves the soft hair that covers you. He will accidently pull your arm hair at first, confused as to why you need hair on your arms and legs.

 C = Children (Do they want kids)

He would want to adopt the babybones in universes that were to be destroyed... but he guesses if he was to have one of his own, it would have to be with you and only you.

 D = Dating (often going out or not)

Killer counts EVERYTHING as a date with you. Him dragging you with him to piss off Dust? a date. Him picking on Error? If you are there, its a date. If he just so happens to have horror help him pack a picnic for you to go out to Outertale... Well, its always a date when he is with you, isn't it?

 E = Experience (Dated before or no?)

Killer doesn't seriously date, at least not until he got serious with you. he is a little rusty but he knows how to treat a partner.

 F = Favorite places (Locations they love going to)

He likes taking you to outertale sometimes, the stars are just so beautiful there. But he loves taking you around to the unusual AU's- Like this one medieval AU of lords and ladys. He joked around the whole time that he was the grand duke and you were his duchess.

 G = Goofy (Are they jokesters or not)

A serious moment is rare by Killer. He stirs the pot almost religiously. His favorite jokes are the ones you laugh at too, or join in on. Those always make his soul feel a little lighter.

 H = Hair (Are they well groomed or are they going hobo today?)

Well. He is nothing but bone, so no hair from him. though if he finds strands of yours on his clothes... He wouldn't ever compline. He does threaten to plant your DNA at a scene of a crime. Though, you are dating a murderer, so... his threat falls flat.

 I = Intimacy (Close every day?)

He is like velcro, if you are near he is going to be attached at the hip to you. Its annoying, in a very endearing Killer kind of way.

 J = Jealousy (How jealous they get)

Nope, he knows he's got all your love. Though you probably shouldn't rule it out, you just haven't seen him jealous yet.

 K = Kisses (Where do they love to kiss)

He loves when your kiss him, your lips against any part of him will always make him swoon. But when it comes to him kissing you? he loves to bonk his forehead against yours in affection before kissing you as you grumble about the small headbutt.

 L = Love (How you both met)

Falling through a rouge portal ripped through space and time is not at all ideal for a normal human. Tripping a serial killing monster after your grate travels? not at all ideal. But as it turns out, actively arguing with said killer (who you didn't know was a killer at the time) was the perfect way to get him to forgive you. You were so feisty for a human, he loved it.

 M = Marriage (Do they like the idea)

Not really, the concept of marriage to him is just a fancy way for the government to have control over your love life too. Not that that affected him anymore. He supposes though, that if you wanted him to be your husband someday... he wouldn't mind putting on a suit and tie.

 N = Nosey (Do they get all up in your stuff)

Killer is so nosey its annoying. but that is always how he is, its what makes him so much like himself. The shit stirring, nosing, questions, and annoyances. He respects your privacy though, fully. He only asks a bunch of stupid questions all the time to get your attention.

 O = Open (Open about the relationship or nay)

He will brag to anyone and anything about you. You once heard him talking to his waffles about how he is better than it because he has you. Dork. He only was dicking around like that because he knew you were standing close enough to hear him.

 P = Possessiveness (Hide you away or open)

He would rip off hands for touching you. Unless you invited them of course. He thinks its cute when you get Horror to cuddle up to you during movie nights.

 Q = Quirks (interesting bits)

Turns out Killer is actually quite the gentle-Monster when he wants to be. Reserving seats at restaurants, pulling your seat out, pouring wine for you, paying.

 R = Random (Are they spontaneous or calm)

Random shit happens all the time. Sometimes he will just pop up in your room and tell you he wants to take you to some AU. of course he always spontaneously wants cuddles when he is butthurt after losing an argument with one of the others.

 S = Spoiler (Spoil you rotten?)

Hell yes he does. He would steal every gold coin from the underground and give it to you. If you didn't insist on not needing a bunch of clutter, he probably would have robbed every valuable he could think of for you. You think sometimes that it would have been pretty cool to have a dragons hoard for yourself.

 T = Takings (Why’d they fall in love with you)

You made his soul feel different. being with you was therapeutic almost. you calmed his soul and made everything around him feel less chaotic and loud all the time.

 U = Uterus dealings (how do they handle your period)

You don't know if Killer can really smell pain or if he just did a bunch of research on how to help mensurating humans. Either way, he stole you a heated pregnancy pillow during one of your worse. Those are so amazing in every way, even if you aren't on your period.

 V = Volatile (Do they have a temper)

Killer has a nasty temper at times, but surprisingly, he has only snapped at you once. though it probably helps that you don't actively try to aggravate him more like Dust does. To be fair it is payback for all that Killer puts Dust through.

 W = Wildcard (Random fact)

Killer wants to snuggle you. all the time. especially at night when you are both settling down for bed. He likes it when you demand to be big spoon like he would fight a proposition like that.

 X = Xystus (Most men love their gardens, do they?)

Killer has a little aloe vera plant growing in his room. Ask him to grow anything else though and its a 50/50 on if it lives or not.

 Y= Yearning (Lots of physical contact or non)

24/7 contact or attention, he needs it to behave himself. well. no he just really really loves your attention.

 Z = Zzz (Lazy or active)

Fuck all that, if he gets to be lazy he is going to jump at the chance. He wants to lay in bed all day and snuggle with you.

Okay but you know those rapid, smothery, little kisses that moms sometimes do to their babies?

That, but with Red, since deep down, he really is a big baby that needs all the loves💕🥺

He just melts

Person A: “Well that was a mistake.”

Person B: “Shut up! I’m not gonna take life advice from some criminal who takes the law into their own hands! You’d probably just try to ruin everything for your own sick enjoyment!”

Person A: “Oh you don’t need my help to ruin your life, you seem to be doing that quite well on your own. Honestly, I’m surprised you have any allies left if that’s the way you treat them.”

Person B: “That wasn’t an ally, that was my wife.”

Person A: “…Oh that poor thing.”

there’s nothing purer or better than how much kids enjoy being picked up and then hurled at soft surfaces

Thank you @thats-one-cool-dude for this commission, inspired by itsxroxannex's amazing art. Nothing quite like Nightmare himself <3

---

... You were in a dream.

The realisation hit you, the moment you became aware of yourself and your surroundings. Ironically, it felt like you had just ‘woken up’- snapping back to reality. But you couldn’t have been more conscious of the fact that this reality wasn’t yours.

You still felt like you were dreaming. Partly. It was hard to think, there was still that signature disconnect between your head and your body. And yet... you could feel things you didn’t normally feel in a dream, sensations that were usually either muted or entirely gone. Was this what lucid dreaming felt like? You'd never been able to do that before. You’d never woken up, and immediately known with every fibre of your being that you weren’t really ‘awake’.

... You looked up. There was a small table before you, draped in a spotless white cloth, and decorated by a single lit candle. Very gentle piano drifted through the air, jazzy and slow, like you were in the middle of a nice restaurant... two chairs pulled up on either side of the table.

... Someone occupied one of the chairs.

He was a skeleton. A tall skeleton, his bones were slick and dark, bluish black as a midnight sky, with the faintest iridescent sheen like the shimmer on a bubble or an oil spill. He looked as if he were made of tar. A clean smile of ice white teeth... one eye, a powerful, electric cyan blue, the other socket covered by that same tar-ish substance.

... He was wearing a suit. You didn’t expect that. A nice suit, it outlined him well, it made him look well-proportioned and tidy. Somehow, the liquid of his body didn’t stain the white cuffs or collar. Dream logic? You had no clue.

Were this any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have reacted as... calmly. But because you were in asleep, your mind felt far more forgiving of the bizarreness of the situation. Sure, a skeleton with inky bones and one glowing eye was waiting for you at a table set up like a date. Why not? You'd had weirder dreams.

That, and...

... Well, his face looked so... gentle. He simply stared at you, with a low smile, like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The candlelight flickered against him... he had a nice face. Strong curved cheekbones, a pretty defined jaw. His skull was handsome in a regal, timeless sort of way.

Your cheeks felt hot.

“ah. finally.” His voice was silky, low, and dark. Very pleasant to listen to, and exactly the kind of voice you expected to hear from a creature that looked like him. “i thought you’d never sleep.” 

... You looked down at yourself. You were dressed for a date- an outfit you definitely didn’t normally wear. 

“... come on, now. don’t be shy. i’ve been waiting for you.” He said, sweetly, patiently. “come sit with me.”

...

Well. It was just a dream, right? So you had nothing to lose. You shuffled over to the table, sitting down opposite him. His grin lifted, the flickering candle played with the shadows on his face... the gentle piano continued.

“i’m sans.” He shifted his elbows onto the table. The black parts of his suit, although it was clearly fabric, very faintly had the same iridescent sheen as his bones. “don’t worry, i already know your name.”

“... You do?” You asked. Was that something you needed to worry about?

He chuckled. The sound was handsome. “of course. it’s only a dream, right?”

“... Oh. Yes, right.”

Remembering that this was a lucid dream gave you a strange sense of... confidence. It made your chest puff up a little, it brought your hands out of their curled position on your lap, the anxieties you usually always carried finally melting off. Warm confidence flooded your system- he was right. You didn’t have to be embarrassed, or scared, did you? This was your dream, wasn’t it? You could do whatever you liked. Man, lucid dreaming was great.

‘Sans’ gained a slight twinkle to his beautiful blue eye. He kept looking at you like you were everything- it was making you feel warm. Important.

“i know it’s a boring question. but do tell; how was your day?”

“... Slow.” You replied. He had such a nice face. This was a nice dream. “Very slow.”

A knowing look. “sometimes a slow day is better than a frantic one.”

... You let out a little laugh. He leaned a fraction closer to you. “Yeah, I guess. I’d take a slow day over the kinds of days I normally get.”

“what would a normal day be, for you?”

“Like you said. Frantic.” He had instantly put you at ease. His dulcet tones, his impeccable sense of dress, his gentle aura... despite the fact that you were having a conversation with a skeleton, it felt like you were talking to an old friend. “I work a lot. Then on my few days off, it feels like I’m so exhausted I have no energy to spend on anything other than recovery. It sucks.”

“i think you aren’t alone in feeling like that. today is far too fast-paced.”

There was suddenly a wine glass in front of him. And in front of you, too. An expensive-looking bottle beside the candle, in the middle of the table- Sans picked up the bottle, offering it to you.

“shall i pour you something?” He asked, invitingly.

... You paused. “I... don’t really know if I should...”

“come on now.” He purred. “it’s a dream, right? you won’t have a hangover. when will there ever be a better time to have something to drink?”

“... Pft.” You felt... kinda silly for saying no. “Oh, alright then. I guess you’re right.”

Sans grinned. He poured you a generous serving, the liquid was a beautiful tyrian purple, and once he stopped pouring the candlelight in the wine made it appear as if your entire glass was filled with ruby. He filled up his own glass as well. It was good wine, too, it was exactly to your taste.

“... What is this, by the way?”

“... wine?”

“No, this.” You gestured around. “Are we on a date right now?”

“of course.” He placed his glass down and chuckled. Sans had such a warm gaze, despite the cold blue colour of his eye. It almost looked... adoring? He hadn’t stopped staring at you since the moment you woke up in this dream.

“Why?”

“because you’re wonderful.” He knitted his fingers together, using them as a cradle for his head. The ends of his phalanges looked sharp. “and i think you deserve a good date. none of those terrible, thoughtless outings you’ve been on recently.”

“How do you know I’ve been on dates?” You asked, but teasingly, drinking a bit more. Of course he knew, this was your dream. His eye flickered to your lips as they touched the rim of the glass, but they returned to your own eyes so fast you couldn’t tell if you really saw the movement at all.

“those fools don’t know what they’re doing. who tries to take someone back to their parents’ house on a first date?” He looked like he still couldn’t believe it. “despicable.”

You snickered at that one. Who wouldn’t?

“They weren’t so bad.” You said, softly. “Rough around the edges, sure. But they meant well.”

He leaned a little closer again. Every time you laughed, he seemed unable to stop himself from drawing nearer. The space was getting more and more intimate.

“you’ll realise how terrible they were when i show you how good dates can be.”

“I’m sorry, but...” You traced the rim of your glass. “am I going to get any more context on who you are? Or are you just too mysterious?”

“i’m nobody important.” He said, reaching the wine bottle across the table again and refilling said glass. “i haven’t any ulterior motives, dear, if that’s what you’re afraid of. i just want to get to know you.”

... You liked the way he said ‘dear’. It made you feel warm again. You swirled the wine around the glass, admiring the strange colour- huh, funny. Even though this was a dream, you could still feel that familiar sensation of being tipsy.

“... This is nice.”

“yes.” He murmured, gazing at you through a lidded socket. “it is.”

“I don’t really want to wake up.”

His eyelight flashed.

“... now. don’t go saying things like that, dear. someone might think you’re serious.”

///---///

You woke up with a lovely, soft, cosy feeling. Right down to your core. Far from your usual stuffy, too hot/too cold awakenings, the bed felt like a pair of arms around you- a comfortable pair of arms that made the thought of just closing your eyes and slipping back to sleep again all the more appealing.

...

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Morning light was seeping through the curtains; as nice as it sounded, you couldn’t really go back to sleep right now. The day was starting.

... You could almost still taste the wine. You almost felt like its fuzzy warming effect was still thrumming through your body. And, in your mind’s eye, you could still see him- looking at you, smiling, like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“i just want to get to know you.”

...

... Sans, huh?

///---///

“hello again, dear.”

The same feelings of ‘waking up’. The same knowledge you were dreaming. And, when you opened your eyes... the same skeleton in front of you.

No suit, this time. Just normal clothes, all toned as black as his bones, sharing his faint iridescence.

... This dream wasn't set at a table. It was on a sunny street corner, in a musical-looking city, bright blue sky and quaint cafes surrounding you, bicycles and colourful pedestrians and trees on every inch of available pavement. People busied past both of you, like you weren’t even there- like there was nothing strange about a large, ink-black skeleton holding the hand of a bewildered human.

... Holding your hand. You blinked, looking down... his midnight claws were entwined with your fingers.

You looked back up at his face. “Sans?”

He grinned, evidently delighted you recalled his name. There was so much you didn’t know, in his eye, so much he understood but you didn’t.

“surprised to see me? i said you i’d take you on more dates, didn’t i?”

Yes. You were very surprised. It took you a few moments to gather the words, mouth opening and closing again, dumbly.

“... I-I just... it was a dream.” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. “My dreams don’t normally...”

“repeat?” He squeezed your hand gently, brushing his thumb over the back of your palm. “perhaps they do. perhaps they just weren’t worth remembering before now.”

You flushed at the casual touch. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“well." He tilted his skull. "are you the good kind of surprised, dear?”

Again, yes. But you didn’t seem to need to say it, judging by the delighted softness his smile took on.

“... Where are we?”

“you're so cute. paris.” He replied, amiably. “i took the liberty of finding the nicest looking side. it’s a charming city, certainly... but not all of it is this pretty.”

“... I never thought I’d...”

“... be able to go?” His voice was a disarming, lulling purr. “i told you. i want to take you on real dates. we can go anywhere you want- anywhere at all. time and distance are no issue.”

“Why?”

“i said so before. i just want to get to know you.”

... You looked around. At the beautiful streets. You could hear people talking, smell baked goods and coffee. It was so romantic... so unlike anywhere you’d ever been.

...

“Could... we go somewhere high up, when the sun goes down?” You asked. “To see the lights?”

... A small laugh left his chest. Like your question had an incredibly obvious answer.

“... of course we can.”

///---///

Sans, whoever he was... he was quickly becoming a staple of your life. 

He kept his promise. He took you on dates. Wonderful ones, hopelessly romantic ones- strolls through starlit woods, picnics on hills overlooking the ocean, scenic boat rides through canals and rivers alike, city tours that felt so impossibly vivid and real despite the fact that your feet never ached. Various delightful places across the world you were certain you’d never be able to visit in your own reality. 

... Sans was charming. Charming in a sophisticated, cultured way, he had that lifted air to him that made you feel so important when he seemed to so much enjoy listening to what you were saying. He spoke sweetly, he was effortlessly funny, he knew precisely how to make you unwind. He already knew more about you than most people in your life.

Though you still knew nothing about him.

You’d never been so well-slept. Your dreams were starting to become your favourite place. Why wouldn’t they? Nobody in the waking world treated you so kindly. There was nowhere else where you felt so consistently cared for, listened to. If you ate together, you would wake up not hungry anymore. If you drank, you would feel the faint buzz even after your eyes opened. 

... And you always felt warm.

...

You hadn’t researched Sans until now. There was just... something that felt prying about it? You had no reason to think that way. Today was the day you were going to try and find out something about your nightly visitor.

... It was worth researching. Dreams that recurred that often probably had meaning, right? 

A few google searches wouldn’t hurt.

///---///

You saw him again the next night. Because of course you did.

... It was a much simpler setting than usual. Sans usually took you to places that would take your breath away... here, it was just a park bench in a flower garden. 

“morning.” He said, with a teasing lilt to his voice. “how was your day?”

You sat down beside him. Your heart was starting to beat faster. “... Could I talk to you about something?”

He paused. Only for a moment. It seemed like... he could sense your apprehension.

“... oh. of course.”

“I... did some research today.”

A flicker of something in his face. He covered it quickly. “the fun kind of research?”

“Research about dreams. And nightmares.” You fiddled with your hands, looking anywhere but him. “It took some digging. But I found something eventually. Old legends, really old, about a being that can enter people’s minds while they sleep and influence what they dream about. A skeleton with black bones.”

...

“... interesting.”

“... A lot of stuff was different. Like... tentacles, ‘evil’ energy, making people have night terrors so bad they’d give themselves insomnia to avoid sleeping. But, I mean... a skeleton with black bones that enters people’s minds while they sleep?”

... Sans had gone quiet. You glanced at him.

“Are you... uh... are you ‘Nightmare’?” 

...

As you held his blue eye, a strange sensation fell over you. 

It was like... you had come home, and a door you were certain you left closed was wide open. The feeling of staring into a room and knowing, just knowing, there was someone in there that shouldn’t be there. 

An interloper. 

His face... suddenly didn’t look quite as inviting.

...

Had he always been that big?

...

“i see.” He said, softly.

...

Then you were awake. Staring blankly at your ceiling.

You didn’t feel warm. Not at all.

///---///

It was a normal dream, at first. A busy room full of people you didn’t recognise, a nonsensical list of reasons you had to be there that only made sense because your higher thought functions were locked away. Your head felt as though it were stuffed full of sand, and you had little care in the world aside from the base anxieties your brain was projecting onto the scene before you. A test, a missed train, you couldn't even recall.

A normal dream.

...

Something in the corner of your eye flickered. A shadow, moving the wrong way.

...

Just like that, you were aware.

The hair on the back of your neck prickled, the faces around you blurred and unfocused. You felt... singled out. Alone. A real person, in a room full of mannequins.

... You could tell he was there. You'd had enough dreams with him to know when he was nearby. But you couldn't see him- you turned around, only the rest of your dream behind you. But you could feel it... he was in there with you.

"... Sans?" You said.

... Nothing.

Your voice wobbled. “Are you... are you there?”

Silence.

...

“Nightmare?”

“no.” He said, softly, right in your ear. You jumped- it sounded as if he was standing behind you. “do not call me that.”

You didn’t turn around. Something told you there was a reason he was remaining out of view. “... Why did you disappear?”

He hissed. “i never wanted it to be like this.”

“Like... this?”

“it should’ve stayed a dream. it was never meant to be real.”

...

Your gaze dropped to the floor. The carpet, a product of your sleeping mind, repeated itself over and over.

... You suddenly felt... stupid. For a lot of reasons- but mostly for letting yourself feel hurt by that. 

What did you think was going to happen, getting so attached to a random guy in your dreams that did little more than take you on a few pretty looking dates and say a few sweet words? All he had to do was feign interest in what you said, and you were like a fish on a hook. Idiot.

You wanted to wake up.

...

Hands pressed against your shoulders.

“ ... that’s not what i meant.” His voice was a lot softer, suddenly. Softer than you'd ever heard it before- softer, even than your 'first date'.

It was your turn to not respond.

“dear.” It felt like he wanted you to turn around, now. You didn’t. “i promise that’s not what i meant.”

When you spoke, your voice was sullen. This was the end of your nice dreams, wasn't it? “... What else could you possibly mean by that?”

He didn’t let go of your shoulders. “i... it was...”

... Him needing a moment to speak... it didn't exactly cheer you up, but it made you return to the moment a little. It made you listen. You were so used to him knowing exactly what to say at any given moment, silken words coming so easily- the fact that he needed time to gather his thoughts made what he was about to say seem a bit more genuine.

“... the waking world is so complicated.” He finally said. “dreams... are the escape. i didn’t want this to be complicated.”

...

“... Complicated.” Your tone had significantly eased. He wasn’t wrong. Things had definitely become more complicated, as soon as you brought the real world in. 

“i wanted to see you.” His hands moved, from your shoulders to your torso. “i wanted to know you, but i didn’t... want you to have to think. i just wanted to be a dream, for you, someone you could escape to. i wanted to be a good dream for once.”

You didn’t reply. He was convincing. But you didn’t even know if you believed him.

“... don’t wake up.” He murmured. You felt his face press to the back of your head... his arms tucked around your middle.

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” You said. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“i didn’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“Should I be?”

“no.” Instantly, breathlessly. Like he couldn’t believe you asked that. “no, of course not.”

...

You sighed. 

“What’re you willing to tell me?”

“whatever you ask.” 

... It was an interesting way of wording it. You didn’t miss the specificity- whatever you asked him, he would answer. But volunteering information seemed beyond him for now.

“we should go somewhere. to talk.” He offered. “where do you want to go?”

You paused.

...

“Well. How about... somewhere you want to go, this time?”

In your youth you helped a group of horsemen in trouble. When the apocalypse came many years later, four vaguely familiar faces knocked on your door. They are the horsemen of the apocalypse and they offer you a place among them as the fifth horseman in thanks for your help all these years ago.

A garden shop sometimes gifts mysterious tree sapplings to customers, but they always wither away. You receive one and plant it…and it ends up flourishing.

Here it finally is, the full cetacean eye colour info sheet! A long time coming, and an even longer time in the making. I hope that all you cetacean eye curious people will find this one as fascinating as the killer whale eye colour post. It’s a wild world out there! 

Hey guys, there’s been some drownings around where I live (there’s always drownings in summer) because people going in the sea to escape the heat don’t know the safety procedures. So I thought I’d make this mini-PSA on rip current safety.

Rip currents are invisible channels where the water being pushed onto shore is being sucked out again. It forms a small, deceptively fast-moving path of water that drags you out to sea- even in water that appears clear & calm a rip current can pull you out very quickly.

If you get caught in a rip and find yourself being pulled out of your depth, don’t swim directly against the current. It’ll exhaust you and panic you because the rip will always be stronger than you are. You need to swim parallel to the shoreline! Rip currents only take up a small part of the waterfront and don’t go all the way out to sea, only just off the beach into deep water. Swimming parallel to the shore allows you to swim out of the current and back into the oncoming waves- they’ll push you back into shore again eventually.

Try not to lose hope when you’re swimming back to shore either; something that a lot of people don’t mention is that when you’re in the sea, it’s really hard to tell how quickly you’re swimming because everything looks the same. Trust me, you’re going faster than you think! Keep a steady pace and float on your back for a bit if you need to. The waves are working with you, you’re okay.

If you’re on a beach with a lifeguard (which you ABSOLUTELY SHOULD BE) you have to raise one hand over your head and shout that you need help. This should attract attention to you. Don’t swim at beaches with no lifeguards!

We’re all desperate to escape this stupid heat, I know. Thanks climate change. But a lot of the time, people who drown do so in situations they could’ve escaped if they just had the knowledge. Look after yourself!!

did u miss him ? he missed you !

You could tell the exact moment they had caught up enough to see you, their frustrated calls turning into panicked shouts, as they watched you steadily grow further and further away.

With practised ease, you ignored their desperate pleas, focusing instead, on your slow and careful progression across the rotten bridge. You knew that none of them would dare try to follow you, too frightened to risk the ire of the creatures beyond.

This was their bridge, and crossing it meant gaining their full attention.

….A very dangerous thing to have.

It was a fact you knew well, and a fact you were taking full advantage of, especially since it served your needs perfectly. Though they had yet to appear, you knew that they’d sensed you the moment you stepped foot on their bridge. Knowing them as you did, you were certain that they had dropped everything instantly, excited to return you to their side as they always were.

Suddenly a sharp ominous cry, echoed from the sky, your pursuers instantly falling silent in fear, before quickly beginning to call to you with renewed fervour, their terror clear for all to hear.

Finally stopping in place, you lifted your head and watched as the dark shadow separated from the clouds, moving far faster than you’d ever seen them move before. It was in that moment that you knew they had realised that this time you were staying for good, just as they had always hoped you would.

Lips pulling into a smile, you took one step back, then two, before dropping off the edge of the towering bridge, ignoring the screams and shouts of horror from your pursuers, and focusing instead on the rapidly approaching form that you knew so well.

You knew they would catch you…. they always did.

There’s something haunting about how silent and still the lake is of a morning, the sun barely beginning to tint the sky and not yet managing to peek over the towering mountains that cradled it. Even though your footsteps were careful as you walked up the length of the board walk, it almost felt as though the sound of your boots on the aged wood were echoing far too loudly for such a peaceful place.

With the chill of the morning air gently nipping at your face, and your breath leaving you in soft heated puffs of steam, you felt almost as if you were floating even without the aid of water, your soul feeling light as air, even as your body remained firmly on the ground.

It was this very peace that had brought you here that first day all those years ago, and the reason you had ever met Them. 

….It was also the reason that you hadn’t aged a day, even though thirty years had long since passed since that fateful encounter.

Strangely, it seemed as though nothing here had aged either….They certainly hadn’t.

It took you several long moments to figure out that the sound you could hear ringing through the air, was coming from your front door, so long it had been since anyone had visited you here.

Bewildered, you carefully sat down your latest work, before drifting over to your cluttered entrance way and peeking through the crack in one of your mismatched windows. Though the sight that greeted you only confused you even more.

Giving into your curiosity, you finally unlatched the brass handle of your heavy old door, absently wondering when the last time you had bothered locking it properly, had been, though the fleeting thought was quickly dismissed in favour of more pertinent questions. With a gentle and practised heave, the tired old hinges gave a muted creak, the weathered wooden door slowly bowing to your will and opening obediently. An action that allowed you to finally take in the sight of your unexpected guests in full.

A strange mix of excitement and wariness filled you at the sight of them, the feeling bringing a bright and welcoming smile to your lips as you pondered the strangeness of it all. 

It had been at least two hundred years since anyone had stumbled upon your homely little cottage after all.

In the end it wasn’t too surprising that no one ever suspected what you were. You’d been playing human for a long time after all, and had long since mastered the skills needed to hide your true nature. 

It was for this very reason that you were in the predicament you were in now, as the group who had “captured” you, had wrongfully assumed that you were the weakest and most vulnerable. 

Perhaps if the situation had been different, you would have found this somewhat entertaining, but given the fact that they were trying to use you to bait your companions into willingly walking into a trap, you were feeling far from forgiving. You’d come to care for them after all, and the protectiveness you had developed over them was only to be expected from something such as yourself.

Luckily, tricking your “captors” into approaching your bound form, was all too easy thanks to their ignorance of your nature, and once they were within reach….well….

Sinking your teeth into someones vulnerable throat had never felt quite so satisfying~

It took you a shockingly long time, to notice the changes.

At first they had been so little that they’d been all too easy to miss, and even once the changes started to slowly become bigger and bigger, many of them remained rather simple to gloss over or explain away.

In all honesty, a large part of you had simply assumed it was because of the company you kept, and in a way… you were right. Though it hadn’t quite been in the manner you had thought it was.

Many people around here, thought you were strange for choosing to remain in your isolated little house out in the woods, especially when it was so much safer in town, where there was the silent comfort of being in numbers. Had they known that the very reason they feared living where you did, was the same reason you loved it there, there was no doubt in your mind that their worry would have quickly turned to hostility and suspicion.

As it was, you doubted they were going to be fooled for much longer. 

And it wasn’t like you’d ever particularly cared anyway. 

In all honesty, you’d never felt like you belonged there in the first place, and staring into your bedroom mirror, you knew there was no way you could even pretend to fit in there anymore, even if you had wanted to. Though you weren’t entirely sure when it was that the changes to your self, had become so drastic.

Over the years you’d spent living out here, you’d befriended many of the denizens of the forest, and had steadily gained the trust and favour of the vast majority of them, almost entirely without trying. As a byproduct, you had been gifted many blessings, all of which had steadily built up over time, until eventually…. there was barely anything left of your humanity at all, a fact made all the more obvious by what was reflected in your mirror.

Thanks to the influence of your many non human friends, you had become something….Other… 

Something that had yet to be given a name.

Something that you had just found out, was no longer even mortal.

So prison au- what if….. natural disaster? I live where blizzards and tsunamis alike (plus earthquakes, avalanches….) are a potential thing, but any kind- something that keeps at least a skeleton (heh) staff trapped there, power out, inmates increasingly agitated, possibly the usual rules are slowly slipping out the window for survival reasons- or because a lot of the staff abandoned the inmates there when the last minute warning came in. What would MC do? Would there be risk of a riot, or would the guys simply casually break out to get to her to make sure she’s safe, get food, keep her warm….. etc 👀 can’t help but imagine she’s the type to try to stay and help even if the place is being abandoned in panic because criminals or not, they’re people, dammit-

OOOOOOOOOo

Mc is one of very few staff members who stay behind. She knows a natural disaster could result in any number of serious injuries and there needs to be at least one medial professional on hand. Most guards and staff, knowing that a total blackout would cause a lot of cell doors to open, decide to save their skin and just make sure the front gates are bolted behind them- but she knows these are still people. She’s not going to leave them to die.

Sans: He thinks it’s very sweet that she wants to stay, very kind of her, proof that she’s wonderful. But he disagrees entirely, he tries his damnedest to convince her to leave and might even get the closest he’s ever been to angry with her. Why should she care about the stupid prison population? She’s better than them. She’s an angel. She’s better than all of them. They’re all criminals, he’s a criminal, she should be making sure she’s safe and saving herself like the others. When it’s clear she’s not going to do that, he settles for making sure she’s safe, and puts himself in charge of resource management.

If he can’t get her out, he’ll just show her exactly how intelligent and useful he is. A well-organised ideal partner who’s calm in a disaster. 

Red: Red is absolutely vital to the safety of any staff who chose to stay. They know it, he knows it... he already has experience with controlling the prison population after all, this is nothing new to him. In fact, he’s in an even better position than before, because there are no guards to intervene; if he or his gang attacks someone there’s nothing to stop him from killing them. The prisoners already respect and fear him and now that’s just increased tenfold. With the majority of the guards having self-evacuated, the remaining staff approach him and, sheepishly, request his help... like approaching a mob boss for protection.

If this situation had arisen in any other circumstance he would’ve demanded a lot of nice things in return for their safety. A protection fee, if you will (old habits die hard). But... he’s acutely aware of Mc’s presence- he’s aware she’s probably pretty frightened right now. He’s aware that what he does in this situation could heavily, and maybe even permanently, affect her opinion of him. So, despite his deep-rooted instinct to take advantage of the moment... he agrees to protect the staff and keep order for free.

He might teasingly request ‘payment kisses’ from her. But that’s more for the sake of lightening the mood.

Skull: Mc’s personal bodyguard for the entire duration of the disaster.

Not wanting him trapped inside his room if something terrible happens, Mc lets him out, under the condition he behaves and does what she says. He never leaves her side; he looms over her shoulder, always within arm’s reach of her and often holding onto her shirt like a lost child. If anyone comes too close or anything seems like it could be a threat he lashes out with his trademark brutality... he’s also very particular about her looking after herself, sharing his Sans-rationed food with her and bundling her up in blankets if she ever falls asleep. The other two skeletons dislike the amount of contact he gets & the obvious intensity of his feelings, but there’s not much they can really do... it’s best to let him have what he needs. Besides- the longer he’s around her, the more lucid and reasonable he seems to get.

For a little while, Mc is the most powerful person in the entire prison without even realising. Sans defers to her, and he controls all the food and water and materials. Red defers to her, and he decides whether her and her colleagues live or die via his chokehold on the prisoners. And the only thing standing between the prison and the force of nature that is Skull is his love for her.

some au sanses x y/n anyone?

gays.

Person A: “Wow…”

Person B: “’Wow’ what?”

Person A: “You’re beautiful.”

Person B: “…Do you always flirt with the people that’re threatening you?”

Person A: “No, but only because none of them have ever looked the way that you do… I don’t suppose you’d be interested in changing sides?”

TWST Pokemon AU Part 1: Heartslabyul

I saw @twsthoodstar​‘s Pokémon au posts (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) and was inspired to do my own.

Be sure to check out their blog. They write several crossovers. 

Keep reading

👀 harpy nonzoo AU with MC with kid? How would that go down? Not sure if/how MC would take their kid to the mountain tho

Sans: She'd be much more cautious going through Sans' forest if she had a child with her- she wouldn't go through at night at first. No way she's taking that risk, she'll just spend the night in town. Which means they probably meet when her kid runs off in his woods and gets totally lost.

... He looks after her child. Keeps them from getting too upset, or panicking... being lost can be very scary, he plays with them to keep them distracted, and acts lazy to calm the nerves. If he's acting lazy and sleepy, there must be nothing to fear, right? If Mc stumbles across them, she finds her kid playing with a completely harmless and happy owl- and if she doesn't find them Sans puts her baby on his back and makes a game out of finding mom again. As much as he's a little shit, and he'd like to play keep-away with her kid... he knows he's got to gain both their trusts before he does something like that.

Sans visits their home at night. He feels protective. Mc has grown accustomed to looking out of the windows at night and seeing his terrifying eyelights in the pitch-black near distance.

Red: Well that's even MORE of a reason for him to move in, isn't it? He wants a mate, and a child. Right there? A perfect mate with a beautiful child. He wants to protect, he wants to provide... someone needs to go in and make sure they're protected. Lucky for them, his schedule is free.

She's, obviously, very defensive of her child when a massive harpy moves into her house. He loves it- as we know, there's few things more attractive to Red than someone with fire. This time it's extra easy to prove his worth as a mate and a father, because her child immediately takes a shine to him... who wouldn't? He's a cool eagle with a gold tooth, and he proves to be a great playmate. Mc tries her best to distrust him but it's difficult when he cleans the messes she can't manage, respects her personal space, and plays with her child so much they happily settle down for their nap.

Skull: It's not unheard of for parents to take their child hiking. And if Mc is a single mother, maybe her kid really likes hiking and camping, and she just wanted to do something nice for them. She never could've foreseen herself being stalked and getting injured.

As for Skull... well, he's a big bird, there's more than enough space in his warm feathers for a mother and her kid to cuddle up and survive a harsh winter night. Especially if he takes them back to his den, where he can be certain the icy winds won't reach them, and snuggles them in real close. Skull is in heaven, mate and baby in his arms... the two of them tucked against him so close he can feel their heartbeats. He doesn't sleep; he can't, he's too happy. He coos all night.

His den doesn't feel so empty anymore. Neither does his Soul.

@justanotherotaku1102, thank you sm for commissioning Skull from the coffee shop AU being a loveable boye 🥺 he is Everything

---

This wasn’t your first attempt at dough. You felt increasingly, though, like it was going to be your last.

It was the very early morning, at your coffee shop, sunshine was already peeking through the windows of the kitchen. 6am... you’d already set up the cafe for the 7am opening, machines cleared and prepared, cutlery and dishes cleaned and ready to go, food out in the display cases. You and your only employee were now just cleaning up, preparing for opening- you’d felt like you had enough spare time this morning to attempt some baking.

...

You probably would’ve been better to just throw the ingredients straight in the garbage.

You had no idea what it was. It seemed like you were cursed, or something. You really thought that by now, you’d be able to successfully manage something as basic as a bread dough- you were hoping that your time around your professional baker suitors would’ve meant that some of their prowess would’ve rubbed off on you. Sans’ ability to craft the most intricate and incredibly delicate pieces, Red’s magic touch with even the most complex pies, surely you’d pick up some skills?

You really hadn’t.

... You stepped away from the oily, sticky mess on the countertop in front of you, fingers caked in mixture. You were getting unreasonably frustrated over some fucking bread dough... looking at your wasted work, you felt choked up and angry.  

...

“... struggling?” Skull asked.

You looked over your shoulder at him. He was by the oven, big eye quietly observing you... you could see why he used to scare you so much. But right now, Skull was the only person who could talk to you without you exploding. A softspoken giant with a gentle temperament, he was a baker by trade- he had been here in the kitchen since at least 4 in the morning, making the pastries and cakes that decorated the shelves of your cafe. Stars knows you needed him, given your absolute dogshit baking skills.

He had been quietly watching the whole time. You knew he had. You bit back frustrated tears, smearing your sticky hands over your apron- “Yes. I’m giving up.”

“... the dough?”

“Going in the trash.” You choked. “Where my cooking belongs.”

“... can i... see?”

Skull didn’t like food waste. Any kind of food waste. You deflated... suddenly feeling bad for talking about throwing it away. Some of the anger dissipated.

“... Sure. You can try and save it.” You stepped back from the sticky mess of oil, flour, water and yeast. “Do what you want.”

... Skull moved over. He walked slowly, with a gentle lean, like one side of him weighed slightly more than the other... he stood beside you at the countertop, looking at your ‘work’. His jagged face meant he preferred to spend his days at the cafe hidden away in the kitchen, cooking while you handled customer service. He was at his happiest when making something.

He stared at your mess.

...

“jus’ needs... more flour.” He mumbled. “and... kneading.”

“I can’t knead.” You said, dejectedly.

He glanced at you.

“... show me.”

You looked up at him- you didn’t know why he wanted you to show him when he’d probably seen your sad and frustrated kneading attempts earlier. But you did as he asked, moving back in front of the bread. He had said more flour, right? You took a handful of flour out of the bag and generously dusted your terrible creation. You pressed your hands into it... doing the closest you could get to the method you saw in videos and on TV.

...

Skull moved behind you. And suddenly, his huge hands were on either side of your own. 

You froze; wait, he was standing behind you? So close, too... close enough that you could feel the warmth coming off him. Your heart thudded- what?

His chest gently bumped your upper back.

“here.” He said softly, breath ruffling your hair. His big, scarred hands reached forward...

... And took yours in his own.

You clamped your mouth shut to stop the tiny squeak from escaping you. You felt like you were being swallowed, and you didn’t dislike it. He smelled like cinnamon. Skull guided your hands patiently- he angled your palms, and helped you push the dough, the ball of your hand first. His precision and experience was clear with the smoothness and direction of his movements... and on top of that, he knew exactly how gently to hold your tiny human hands.

“... push n’ roll.” He said. “s’that simple. don’t worry... bout speed. people who... knead fast... have been doin’ it for years.”

You could hear your heart in your ears, now. You’d seen this guy lift up your fridge with one hand, so he could sweep underneath it- you knew the feats of strength he was capable of. And yet, he somehow held your hands like they were glass, while still applying enough pressure to guide them. 

You tried your damndest to concentrate, to make the most of his clear expertise. Push and roll. Push and roll...

...

... And... oddly enough, not fussing about the bread too much because you were constantly thinking about Skull’s slow breaths tickling your scalp and his massive arms around you, you found you were robotically performing the motions he was guiding without your usual overthinking. It only took a few moments for you to realise you were actually kneading the dough. Properly.

... A swell of pride in your chest, and a little smile on your face. Maybe you weren’t cursed after all?

“... there we go. you got it.” He murmured, affectionately, almost right up against your hair. The way he said that, him murmuring so close, his deep voice through his chest... you were kinda glad he was behind you, he couldn’t see you blushing. Would he catch you if you fainted?

“R-Red kneads fast.” You managed to get out. He kept kneading with you.

“he’s showing off.” Skull said, disapprovingly.

You couldn’t help but snort. The dough was starting to take on a smooth, flawless texture. “And Sans?”

“probably... can’t make bread. bread’s not... science enough.”

A warm laugh escaped you. For a moment, you could’ve sworn Skull paused- but not too long.

... Skull was right about the bread. I mean, of course he was. But it was still nice to see your mistake gradually turning into something that would probably look alright in the oven. With some flour, and some kneading, it more and more resembled an object that could soon become edible. Your efforts (and the ingredients) weren’t totally wasted.

Skull finally took his hands off yours... placing them on the counter. You immediately missed the warmth. But you now had, before you, a lovely silky-looking ball of dough.

“... Then it proves. Right?” You turned, looking up over your shoulder at him. Even though he’d taken his hands off yours he didn’t take his hands off of either side of you. His big, warm eye stared down at you.

“... mhm. ‘bout n hour.” He tilted his head. “want... me to prove, and bake? since... you’ll be... busy.”

“You trying to put a bun in my oven, Skull?” You teased.

...

Skull’s eyelight widened. And his whole face, just like that, flooded with an ultramarine blue.

“u-uh.”

...

You made yourself smile, despite your furious embarrassment and burning face. You moved to the side- he took his arm off the counter, letting you slip out from his enveloping personal space bubble.

“I-I should go wash my hands and open the store.” You blabbed, smearing your hands on your poor apron again. You’d need to grab a replacement, no way you could greet customers like this. “Would you like another coffee before the doors open?”

He nodded, dumbly. “... m... mhm.”

You scurried away, desperately needing a moment to cool, so your cheeks weren’t on fire when people started coming through the door.

...

Skull, alone in the kitchen, busied himself with readying your bread dough for proofing- trying to find a way to distract himself, and stop the loud purring that had immediately started filtering out of his chest once you were out of earshot.

“NNAAOoooOOOOo!! You can’t ship them! They hate eachother!” Hehehe salty Gingerbread go *Gut-wrenching slurping noises*

I’m (or I intend to be) more active on my side blog, go there if you wanna talk!

Thank you!

Just doodlin' a QUEEN

A lovely commission from @vallleyoflilllies, Error being a silly tsundere and not knowing how to deal with his crush on a human <3 absolutely CLASS idea

---

He was back again.

You could always tell when he was back- you’d come home from work and hear the sounds of a random dramatic soap opera drifting from the TV. He liked those... he would binge-watch entire series’ in one sitting. 

... You shook some of the droplets off your coat, then hung it up to let it drip-dry for a bit. The weather was pretty grim outside. You headed to your room first, changing into pyjamas and picking up your project... you didn’t have any other outings planned today. Sitting with him on the couch sounded really nice.

You made your way to the sofa, flopping down beside him unceremoniously. He didn’t look at you. He wasn’t watching a soap opera today, though- he was watching some cooking show you’d never seen before, based in Italy.

“This is new.” You commented. “Why’re you watching an old people cooking show? You never cook. All you do is eat my food.”

“i put-t-t it on for you, actually. since your cook-k-king is gross.” He said, still not looking at you. You knew him well enough to know his words had no real venom to them. “take notes, glitch.”

You snickered. “Doesn’t stop you from coming back. Weirdo.”

You liked when he was here. 

Error... he had a habit of appearing out of nowhere. Literally- he’d appear out of thin air. Disappearing for days, then showing up again, acting like no time passed. Your first encounter with him had been him shaking you awake in the middle of the night; he was visibly upset and berated you for leaving your stove on by accident, informing you you could’ve had a fire if he wasn’t there to turn it off. You were so tired, and so perplexed by what was occurring, that you just sheepishly apologised- convinced you were dreaming. Apparently somewhat mollified by your apology, he proceeded to... vanish like a mirage.

...

Well. You obviously wrote that off as the strangest episode of sleep hallucination you’d ever had.

The next occurrence was when you left a cupboard door open, and almost stood up into the opened door. You would’ve whacked your head pretty hard. But a firm, large hand on your head stopped you from standing up fully- you heard the sound of a closing cupboard and a glitched “st-t-upid human, you’re going to hurt yoursel-l-lf.”. You were absolutely shocked to look up and see that the monster from your ‘dream’ the other night was real, and glaring down at you.

... He then disappeared. Again. Like he wasn’t even there. You didn’t have time to process it.

It happened with further and further frequency, and for lesser and lesser reasons. At first, it was things of genuine concern, he would make sure you weren’t leaving your oven on, he’d replace the battery in your carbon monoxide alarm. Then stuff of slightly less importance... shutting off a tap you left running. Plugging in your phone overnight when you’d forgotten. And it wasn’t long before it was stuff of absolutely zero concern- turning off the TV when you weren’t in the room, tidying up your shoes when you left them at an askew angle by the door, washing up plates you’d abandoned on the counter. 

Oddly, it felt like in certain ways, he had completely slipped under your radar. Of course you were concerned that a large glitching skeleton monster somehow possessed the ability to instantly get in and out of your home. Of course you were worried about your privacy, your safety, his intentions. He would sometimes look at you for several seconds, unbroken, yellow eyelights blank despite your nervous queries- other times, he would say confusing jittering things to you or himself, about ‘universes’ and ‘alternates’. ‘Mistakes’ he had to ‘eradicate’.

... But... also...

... You weren’t worried at all.

Error was funny. Both intentionally, and unintentionally. He tried to act all tough, speaking with barbs and calling you a ‘glitch’- but to you, he was so clearly all bark and no bite. You shot right back, calling him a broken record player and a weird homeless guy... he took it in stride. He obviously delighted in having someone to play off. To banter with.

... He clearly liked you. He kept coming back, again and again. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him too.

Did you still have questions? Sure. But in the end, it wasn’t really worth driving yourself crazy over stuff like his secret backstory. He could obviously go in and out of your home completely at will, he could rob you blind or murder you if he so pleased. All he did was do a few menial chores, and occasionally eat some of your food.

He clearly just... needed someone.

At this point in your... ‘relationship’... Error seemed to have given up on the excuse of doing chores in order to be in your home. He still did them, sure, but sometimes he’d just stay anyway. Once he seemed to clock that you tolerated him, whether or not he was unexpectedly picking up your dry cleaning, he began sticking around all day. He would hover nearby you, drifting in and out of whatever room you were in, watching you like a curious cat. If you acknowledged his existence in any manner, like with a question about his day, he’d visibly brighten and start chattering. He’d sit on the couch with you. Listen while you rambled about work, family, friends, anything... making snide remarks and staring with those bright yellow eyelights.

He was more akin to a helpful, close friend/roommate than anything else. You’d grown to kinda just accept that Error was part of your life now.

... He was very easy to accept.

///---///

Error let a slow breath escape him. His temper had been, only moments earlier, absolutely foul. Foul enough that the multiverse would’ve done well to fear him.

... You had no idea that before you arrived, he’d been seething on your couch, glitches overtaking his vision- literally blinding him with anger. Twitching, burning, infuriated by his difficulty with simple tasks while angry. It had been an awful few days, so awful not even the TV could distract him.

... Then he’d heard your front door open. He heard you sigh to yourself, shake off your raincoat, kick off your shoes.

... His vision had cleared. His Soul had thumped. Finally- the only thing that could distract him.

Your home was the only place where he felt warm. It felt like the only place he could come back to, that welcomed him, with familiar smells and sounds and trinkets that brought him back to reality. Even better when you were physically in the space with him, like you were now, nestled beside him on the couch. Unlike the anti void, a vast expanse of white nothingness where he had only himself to talk to, he liked how your home was full of things that had meaning to you. Your Soul’s energy had soaked into every item in the home- as had your scent.

... He glanced at you, then back to the TV again. Did you know you were the only creature in the multiverse he wanted closer?

(He had one of your shirts, in the anti void. You didn’t know. He figured he probably should return it soon... but it kept him company, when he couldn’t directly be with you.)

It was odd. You calling him a weirdo had made him feel so calm- affirmation that you still didn’t know what he’d done, that you still liked him. Still wanted him in your home. He sometimes asked himself what he, the destroyer of universes, was doing hanging around in a tiny backwater AU with a nobody human... but like most things in his life, he found that if he asked too many questions, the pain in his head became too intense. 

At the end of the day, you being close to him and talking to him made him feel good. That was all he needed to know.

Even just watching you had calmed him down; back before he realised you were happy to let him in.

You had settled in, your breathing was slower. Someone, relaxed around him... it felt good. Though he desperately wanted to stare at you, and talk to you, he also didn’t want to seem clingy. He tried to act like he didn’t care, pretending he was watching the Italian cooking show.

...

He didn’t manage long.

“there are aus with m-m-much better looking-g-g mediterraneans than that.” He said, yellow mouth pulled into a sneer.

... You gave him a customary ‘mhm’. 

You had no clue what an AU was. But you humoured him; he liked that. You didn’t really know what most of the things he talked about were, you’d just give him some nods and hums, maybe you’d tease him. You probably just thought he was nuts.

He finally glanced over at you. You were leaning on the side of the couch... something in hand.

...

He felt his Soul skip.

“a-a-are you crocheting?”

... 

... You looked up at him, you seemed surprised to hear him comment on what you were doing. Your eyes on him made his magic all but purr. He was looking at your ‘project’- a few terrible tangled messes, a ball of brown yarn, and a crochet hook pinched between your thumb and forefinger.

(You were in pyjamas. He liked when you were in pyjamas... he liked when you were comfortable. Comfortable around him.)

“... Oh. Uh... well, I’m trying to crochet.” Your voice soothed his glitches. Everything about you was a balm to his angry, spiteful, troubled Soul. “I’ve only just started. I can’t really work it out.”

He tilted his skull. “what are you-u maki-i-ing?”

Were your cheeks getting pinker? “... Nothing in particular, maybe a scarf? I just wanted to get into crocheting.”

He stared. “what don’t y-y-you understand?”

“Making the knot at the beginning. I dunno where to put everything.” Your brow furrowed. “You know how to crochet?”

“of course.” He said, sitting up. The TV was now purely background noise. “why do you seem surp-p-prised?”

You gave him a look, and a teasing smile that made him feel fidgety and hot. 

“... You’re so right. How could I have been so blind. You scream ‘guy who likes to crochet’.”

Error shifted. “how can you not know how to make a slipknot? they’re easy. there’s a lot of method-d-ds.”

“There are? Course you'd know, grandma.”

“maybe try a pret-t-zel method.” He pointed to your yarn, sitting forward even further. “make a pretzel sh-shape with the yarn. then catch the inside loop.”

You made a loop over your finger.

... Then kinda just paused, unsure.

“n-n-no, a pretzel.” He narrowed his sockets. “don’t you kn-kn-know how to make a p-p-pretzel?”

“No.” You said, honestly. Then you glared at him. “But also, you’re shit at explaining.”

He loved when you sassed him. He leaned in. “maybe the cross method is easier for your t-t-tiny human brain. loop the thread twice ov-v-ver your fingers so it’s an x shape. then tuck the loose end under the x and catch that. eas-s-sy.”

... You looped the yarn over your finger twice.

...

“But like. Where do I tuck the end of it?” You said.

“under the x. you... ugh.” He grunted. “c’mere. gimme the-the-the end of the thread.”

...

You flushed. But you shuffled, sitting up, passing him the yarn.

Error leant over- he took your hands in his.

...

He took your hands. In his.

He froze, for a split second. Your hands were in his. He stared down at them; tiny, soft, warm, shrouded in his blackened bones. He had expected contact with you to feel like lightning, but it didn't, your hands were just... nice. Everything he’d dreamed of. 

... 'fuck' was the only thought running through his head. Repeating over and over. He didn’t mean to take your hands, he didn't realise what he was doing until he’d already done it- he was just so accustomed to instinctively hating the idea of touching anyone, he had no idea how to stop himself from doing it when the urge overcame him. He was just so comfortable with you, so warm- he hadn’t thought twice. In that moment, the thought to recoil from you hadn’t even occurred to him.  

He hadn’t thought twice about touching you. 

... It wasn’t until this very moment, your hands warming his bones, that he realised he was indulging an urge he’d had since the moment he first saw you.

...

Error couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge how deeply he’d been taken off guard. And equally, he couldn’t allow you to see it. So he forced himself to continue.

He didn’t want to let go of your hands.

“it-t-t’s a basic slipknot. i don’t get where you’re conf-fused.” He said, defaulting to insults, as he did when he felt any kind of gentle emotion. He hoped his glitches would hide the nervous stutter.

He moved your fingers in his claws, precisely, holding up the end of the yarn. Your hands felt tiny in his.

“do it lik-k-ke this. you want the end to be about this long. not too sh-short.” With the eye of someone who had done it a thousand times, he looped it over your first two fingers. “make an x, over your fingers, like that-t. you see? then you tuck the tail under here. but not-t-t all the way through.”

... 

... His eyelights moved from the thread, to your face. He caught you looking at him. He was very close, his mouth only a few inches from your face. Close enough to literally feel the warmth coming off you. 

... Just like that, he found it was difficult to swallow. 

You flinched, seemingly flustered at getting caught staring- you forced yourself to look back down at the crochet hooks. You bit your lip, apparently in embarrassment.

Your mouth.

...

It took him a few long, difficult moments to draw his eyelights away from your soft, soft lips. 

“... pinch the tail so you dont lose it.” His claws continuously brushed yours as he circled the thread over your own fingers. He took your left hand. “put your other finger through the loop. like... that. then slide the hook through and catch it. there you go, a slipknot.”

... He could hear your heartbeat. It was faster.

“make sure not to tighten it too much. the knot doesn’t count as a stitch. if you were knitting, it would count. but it doesn’t count in cr-crocheting.”

...

He felt like he’d reached the end of his list of excuses to keep holding your hands.

... He let go. And... he sat back against the couch, refusing to look at you, worried about what he might do if he did. He could feel the energy in his cheekbones, they were probably bright blue. 

His hands balled in his lap.

...

“Thanks.” You said, gently. Genuinely.

...

Error didn’t know how to process what he was currently feeling. He wasn't sure if he'd ever know how. So he just kept his sockets glued to the TV.

“... s-s-sure." He said. "whatever.”

Odd question but do the daycare attendant of the skelly bois clean themselves? The models of Sundrop and Moondrop are… honestly quite fithly is you look at em, like Sundrop god a whole as grimy seemingly adult handprint on his chest and torso (same with Moon, but his slouch makes it harder to see/ notice). Which is concerning… being they work with kids, the health and safety of the daycare kids is their main priority. If the one taking care of them isn’t even clean, the lot of em would get sick right? Since they don’t got to strong immune systems yet. Or he’ll even making Mc sick

Sadly the daycare seems to be… honestly kinda abandoned in comparison to the rest of the pizzaplex, sure safety is something Fazbear has never really cared for, that’s easy af to see. Bur the daycare? Seems to do worse then most

Would Mc have to clean the big lads up? A “spa day” of sorts - Like give an an good scrub? Give em a new paint job and polish? Even with Skulls many arms there are places I asume they can’t really reach, Red I fell like will definitely tease at the intimate kinda touching, Sans will make this more difficult somehow and Skull? Just a absorb all the attention and affection he can get knowing him alright

Idk was just a thought, have a good day/ night night Llama

A great question!

Technically, the boys have to clean themselves. But you can imagine how something like that would slip under the radar, when you're juggling taking care of kids/cleaning up after them/preparing for them beforehand/being a makeshift security guard for the entire mall/holding back a secret third part of yourself out of fear he'll hurt someone. Usually, they manage the bare minimum of removing obvious stains. But there's some parts of themselves they can't see and don't think to clean. Not like they'll let anyone touch them, either, they're not keen on some rando getting handsy.

... In comes Mc. And after working with them, she decides they need a clean. Not just because of hygiene reasons- because they deserve to feel clean. Everyone does.

She gets clearance to come in on one of the rare days the mall is closed, to give the DCA something of a makeover. Unpaid, of course. The boys are more than happy to let her touch, so there's no issues there; and since she wants to make sure she doesn't miss anything, she cleans Red AND Sans.

Red gets the paint and marker crust scrubbed out of his joints, he gets his body wiped down and his tooth polished (he makes a joke about having something else she can polish, which results in a swift wack to the head), she picks dust out of his teeth and the cracks he never got around to until his joints are whirring smoother than the day he came to life. Sans gets his soft fabrics deep cleaned and steamed, his furs combed out until they're smooth, his sticky fingers wiped down... all in the dark by just the glow of his eyelights. She even repaints some of their respective markings- Red's stripes, and Sans' stars.

... At one point, she's cleaning Sans, and she turns around to wash off her cloth. And when she turns back... it's not Sans sitting there, anymore. Someone much taller is in his place, one great big eye staring down at her.

"... O-oh. Hi Skull. I-I didn't expect to see you today...!"

"..."

"... You wanna get cleaned too?"

...

... Skull gets HIS stars done in glow-in-the-dark paint.

what

i don’t usually post non-art related things here but today i received the mondstadt ost boxset which includes an official venti wisp keychain and i NEED everyone to share in the forbidden knowledge i have just obtained, by which i mean: WISP VENTI HAS ARMS?

Hi! So, this is a question for the Siren AU. How would the boys react to a siren mc (on the predator spectrum) who already has a baby? Not newborn, but certainly still child age. And with her species of siren, oftentimes the males don't stick around and would part away from the female.

It's always important, anywhere in nature, to be incredibly careful of mothers with babies. A mother defending her child is immensely dangerous, she'll fight to the death without question, and even if she were a prey mermaid they'd avoid getting too close to her baby. All the boys would be very careful to give Mc (and her child) space.

Sans: Despite the dangerous reputation that comes with being an orca, Sans would actually be the one that she'd be quickest to accept. This is one of the few occasions where being an orca is to his advantage socially. Orca sirens live in family units, right? And he's all alone. She immediately knows that's odd. And when he starts following them, defending them, bringing them food... it wouldn't take long for her to realise he's bonded with them and considers them his family. There's no other reason for him to act the way he's acting. Her baby likes his funny whistle-click noises, too.

... Her sympathy for his situation only goes so far, though. He still has to prove himself. And prove himself he does; he rarely leaves their side, assisting in hunting and foraging, delighting in teaching her baby. He can let out a few loud calls, and the area clears of almost every predator, nobody willing to fuck with an orca.

He's dedicated, and built for a family. She likes that.

Red: Red's dead charming. He's got that going for him. A handsome, charming shark covered with the marks of his past victories, he screams 'potential mate' and can flirt with her pretty brazenly before her patience at his closeness runs out. His knack for entertaining children also comes in handy... she's much more tolerant with someone that can make her baby giggle like that. That's probably the way he sidles his way into their family unit- making both mother & child laugh while serving as a visual deterrent to any hunters who get the wrong idea. She's naturally cautious about letting a SHARK near her baby considering one bite would be all it took, but he's happy to wait for her to relax.

... He's also very sturdy. Don't forget, he's built for his partner to be an aggressive female shark much larger than him. He can get roughed around by his potential mate (and he'd probably enjoy it) so he's a lot more confident approaching her than the others are. His confidence gives him a casual air that she really likes... it's clear he's not got anything suspicious in mind.

Skull: Unfortunately for our big boy, Skull would have the hardest time convincing Mc that he doesn't want to hurt them. It comes with the territory of being a massive scary deep sea monster. There would be numerous occasions where his attempts to interact with either mother or child would result in Mc charging and attacking him- and though her attempts at causing any damage are totally ineffectual to this giant, it definitely hurts his feelings.

... His one upside... is that he's a ferocious predator. Talk about a provider- he's constantly bringing her and her baby meals, at a rate that almost alarms her. If he thinks Mc isn't eating enough because she's too busy guarding her baby, he brings her meals big enough to sustain her for days. And even if her baby doesn't look hungry he brings meals for them anyway. He's very adept at catching the little prey that her child relies on, his massive dexterous tentacles capable of snatching up anything moving... and though Mc doesn't like him at first, she'll never turn down food.

They'll probably grow close because Mc doesn't let him near her child. He's always bringing food, and she accepts it on her baby's behalf. With the amount of prey he brings them, there's a lot of time for bonding.