#lost horribly in some mirror matches. not my finest moments
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baggedmental · 2 years ago
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shiver wizard money gang
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nightshade-imagines · 7 years ago
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Hey I have a lot of feelings right now, but could I please get US and SF bros react to their S/O wearing an outfit that they absolutely adore because it makes them feel and look beautiful, but when they see their parents, they call them fat and a slut?
That would be a pretty crappy family. Even if they didn’t like it, they don’t have to say that kind of crap to your face. (I would like to refrain from referencing the latter insult)
♥US Sans: Blue loves it when you find something that you feel beautiful in! He knows that a lot of human have insecurities with their appearances, and while he himself thinks that your beautiful all of the time, he loves when you really feel and know that you are. He was equally excited when he heard that your parents were coming to visit and happily stood beside you as you greeted them. As soon as those words leave your parent’s mouths *glass shattering sound effect* his smile drops, “I-UH, WAIT WHAT?!?”. He looks back and forth at you and your parents and is sort of stumbling around his words trying to make some sort of resolve. He’s been completely taken back by their sudden rudeness has no idea what to do next, he was not prepared for this! Your sniffling as you try to hold back your tear is what finally snaps him out of it. Blue grabs your hand and turn to you parents and addresses them in a serious tone, “Your complete lack of basic gentility was completely uncalled for and you may find what you said inconsequential in most other cases, but you are no longer welcome”. He herds your parents outside, cringing as they call out to you asking you if you’re really going to be that sensitive and let “your monster” kick them out. He shuts the door before they finish and goes back to comfort you. He’s still not completely sure how to deal with this, they’re your parents, not just some bullies or bad friends, family isn’t supposed to treat each other like that. “DO NOT LISTEN TO THEM, DATEMATE. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WOULD GIVE THEM AUDACITY TO SAY SUCH HORRIBLE THINGS ABOUT YOU, I’M VERY SORRY”, he brushes the hair out of your face, “AND WHILE I KNOW YOU HEAR THIS FROM ME ALL OF THE TIME, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, INSIDE AND OUT! AND I WILL BE HAPPY TO CORRECT ANYONE WHO SAY OTHERWISE!
♥US Papyrus: Stretch really doesn’t pay much attention to what you wear but you did seem really excited by some of the outfits that you picked out sometimes. He thinks you look equally good in everything. Mostly because he just doesn’t care much about fashion. You could wear a hoodie and sweatpants and he’d think you were totally hot. As soon is the comment is made about you Stretch squints at the commenter and retaliates, making fun right back at them and you have to step in before things get heated. Stretch will pull you aside and ask you if you want to go home. If you decline, he will let out an annoyed sigh and say fine. Kind of like his brother, Stretch isn’t quite sure how to deal with this sort of thing. He can’t just scare them off like he would with anyone else so he just tries to grin and bare it until it’s time to leave. Stretch actually does end up cutting your visit short by insisting that he has to go tell Blue his bedtime story and can’t be late. As the two of you are leaving the house you hear a yell coming from inside and when you turn around to investigate, Stretch just grabs you and teleports out of there. You find out the next day that someone planted a bucket of milkshake above the bedroom door of the commenter, immediately drenching said commenter shortly after your departure.
♥SF Sans: Raspberry is probably the one that that helped you pick it out and was very proud of it himself as well. He likes taking you shopping because the datemate of The Maleficent Sans deserves only the finest! He also probably wore an outfit of similar fashion since he likes you to match. Raspberry has never been the biggest fan of your parents but he puts up with them for you. He always presents himself and you proudly, and this goes no differently with your parents but their comments about your appearance shatter whatever tolerance he had for them, “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?!” You might be upset at the moment, but you’re going your have to push that aside for now and keep Raz from tearing into your parents. You’re currently holding him back as he claws in the direction of your parents, “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK THAT WAY TO THE DATEMATE OF THE MALEFICENT SANS, YOU PEASANTS!” You snap him out of it and he turns to you, still obliviously pissed, “WE’RE LEAVING!” Raz whistles and Rus flashes in, sets a hand on you a Raspberry’s shoulders and teleports you back home. Raspberry is stomping around the house muttering angrily and you try to grab his attention, “You okay, sans?”,“YES, YES I’M JUST THINKING!”, “Oh, well thanks for coming to my defence back there; even if you were a little violent”, you whisper that last part. He still seems lost in thought then he perks up, “MUTT, GET THE VAN! WE’RE HEADING OUT!”, “Wait, where are you going?”, “WE ARE GOING SHOPPING!”
♥SF Papyrus: Like Underswap Papyrus, Rus doesn’t really care what you wear (With the exception that he loves seeing you wear his jacket and big fluffy sweaters). He finds your excitement over simple things like that adorable and will smile and give you a thumbs up when you pose in front of the mirror. Rus was never the fondest of your family in the first place. He has an acute sense of people’s personalities and he always got the stuck up vibe from them, but held his tongue for your sake. Like he usually did when visiting you family, he stood behind you and waited patiently for the evening to end, usually only nodding in response when asked something or mumbling out an answer if you nudge him about it. Normally, he’d put more effort in when it comes to people close to you, but like I had mentioned earlier; he doesn’t really like your folks. As soon as the comment is made, Rus’ usually relaxed mien settles into one of exasperation and anger directed at the commenter and the ones who laughed along with them. A quick glance down at you tells him that you are upset by their comments and are hiding it pretty poorly. Before you can speak up, Rus places a hand on your shoulder and moves you behind him. He doesn’t say anything, but your family can tell by the look on his face that they really messed up. Rus never says anything and doesn’t even insist that you leave, but he never takes his cold gaze off of them after that and he won’t let you leave his side, either following you everywhere or just pulling you back down with him (Again, this is all while staring your family down. Seriously the only times that he looked away from them were to look down at you and nuzzle and purr into your head). No one has the guts to say anything about him so you just do your best to keep conversation flowing and can’t help but laugh quietly to yourself about their obvious discomfort. As soon as you say about it being time to leave, he wraps an arm around you a teleports out of there a split second later. You don’t need to say goodbye, they aren’t worth it. Rus will then pull you down into bed with him and talk to you about it and make sure that you are no longer upset. Even after you reassure him that it’s all right, good luck ever getting him to go back…..or let you go back alone without a fight.
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vivikawidow · 8 years ago
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So I admit, it gave it more than a second thought. Holding the card tightly between my fingertips wondering ‘who was this woman from my home land who seemed to know me?’ I had left Westcliff at such a young age that I don’t remember meeting anyone there and they most certainly wouldn’t remember me. Then there was the club – The ‘knock, Knock’ club – that I had been invited to. I had never heard of it before that night either yet it seemed strangely familiar.
“Why don’t we go out and celebrate my new job,” I suggested to my wife.
She was apprehensive. “Where would you like to go?”
I raised my eyebrows and offered a wry smile. “I hear there is at least one club open in this town. I may even be on the guest list.”
Theresa slapped my shoulder playfully. She managed a smile. “That isn’t funny Sam. That woman threatened you. She was horrible!”
I put my arm around her. “Don’t worry. Nothing is going to happen to me. It will give me the chance to find out what she wanted. Would you rather stay here?”
Theresa shook her head. “No I don’t want to be home alone again.”
“I’m sure you will find that it was all for nothing. They probably just have something to do with the mayor and are trying to scare me from the story.”
Theresa hesitantly agreed…
***
Around eight, Theresa and I wandered the rain lashed streets. Most clubs and restaurants in the town were closed but none of those open were called ‘Knock, Knock’ The rain had stopped so I carried a large black umbrella under my arm.
“Let’s just go home Sam. I don’t think we are going to find that club,” Theresa said.
A couple disappeared down an alley way. The woman clutched the man’s arm. She was giggling. She was dressed for a night out. Far more fancy than necessary for an alleyway tryst. I silently urged Theresa to stay as I followed them. The knocked on an old metal door. As the metal door opened a rush of music escaped. The couple went inside. It had to be the ‘Knock, Knock’ club. A lot of clubs had gone exclusive to avoid licensing that were crushing other establishments. Perhaps it was my own apprehension, or maybe empathy for my wife’s concerns but I found myself asking, “Are you sure about this?”
Theresa gripped my arm. “We are just going to see if we can find some information aren’t we?”
I smiled and sighed, the nerves gathered as a fluttering in my chest. We approached the heavy door. The main street seemed one million miles away. The door wasn’t particularly welcoming for a cabaret club. The sign above offered a light humming drown as the bulbs committed tirelessly to their duty.
I knocked heavily – twice for the irony. After a few tense moments the door was finally opened. A tall man with a cigarette between his lips greeted us. He was adorned in a sharp – well tailored black suit, a power red tie and a white shirt.
“Evening,” he muttered without removing the cigarette. “Table for two?” With a flick of his wrist a scantily clad young girl dashed over and ushered us to a vacant table. She offered us a menu each. They were simple, black with the name of the club on it. It was sticky and well used. A stage as the main focus of the club. The band was deep in their music. The chorus girls were dancing in a parade of sequins and feathers. The ‘Knock, Knock’ club was actually so homey it was a pleasant place to be. Theresa even began to settle. We ordered some food. It wasn’t fine dining but it was effective none the less.
The man who had greeted us at the door stepped onto the stage. He had replaced his suit jacket with one from an outfit of evening wear. His red tie was now a black bow.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” his voice boomed over the soft playing of the band. Most of the room looked up from their conversations and offered him their full attention – including my wife and I. “Welcome to the knock, knock club. It has now come to that part of the evening that we love. I know it’s my personal favourite. Please welcome on stage – knock, knock’s finest – Miss T.” In a rush of drums and wind instruments, like the welcoming flag parade of a queen, the man rushed from the stage. The spotlight caught a very striking woman in its clasp. She was met with a thunderous applause. I turned back to Theresa just as one of our waitresses laid down a plat of strange meat. I thanked her and she replied in the way of a well taught serving girl who can offer politeness without saying a word. I looked at Theresa. Her already pale face had drained of all colour.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She reached her quivering hand out and pointed to the stage. “That’s her! That’s the woman who came looking for you.”
***
I turned back to the stage. Miss T was singing a melody with a touch of old school cabaret and the smallest hint of raunchiness. She wore a silver dress which glinted underneath the stage lights. Her voice was sultry and deep. It was a pleasant tone, soft and warm like honey.
Theresa remained frozen in her chair, staring at Miss T until the performance was over, complete with appreciative calls from the crowd. I stood.
“Where are you going?” Theresa cried gripping my arm.
“I’m going backstage to find out what she wanted.”
Theresa shook her head furiously. “Please don’t. Just leave it. Let’s go home.”
“If I’m not back in ten minutes alert the police.”
Theresa’s hand instinctively went to her mouth to conceal the true level of her grief.
I was surprised that no on stopped me as I slipped backstage. At the end of a long hall, carpeted in a very rich shade of purple, lay a door with the letter T on it. I assumed it to be Miss T’s dressing room. I knocked.
“Come in,” came the same silken sound to match the singing. As Theresa had said, her voice was sprinkled with the harsh but musical tones of West cliff accent. I pushed open the door. The cabaret singer was facing the mirror so she spoke only to my reflection.
“You are very lost, my man,” she said. A smile formed. There was a larger than normal gap between her front teeth which gave her an almost child like quality. She had removed some of the pins from her hair so her chestnut brown tresses were in disarray.
“I’m Sam Crusow,” I said with some severity. “You came to my house.”
She smiled. “You are mistaken. I don’t make house calls.”
I became more frustrated. “My wife is outside waiting on me. She recognised you. She told me you were from Westcliff.”
The woman’s smile widened. “I’m not the only one to leave dear old rainy Westcliff for the opportunities of the big city. Look at yourself.”
I could feel tension building in my shoulders. “Just stay away from me and stay away from my wife!”
As I proposed to storm away the singer finally turned herself to face me. She pulled me back with a ferocious grip. “Now, Sam, let’s not get excited. Your name, is it a family name?” she asked.
I found myself replying, “My grandfather was named Samuel.”
“My name is Tabitha. I’m sorry if I frightened poor little Theresa. I’m not going to harm you. I’m trying to protect you.”
“There are people out there who would seek to destroy what your father built.”
Having never known my father or anything about him, other than his name, this came as quite a shock. “What do you know about my father?”
Tabitha lowered her eyes. “Nothing that I can discuss with you now. I’m due back on stage in a few minutes. If you go outside you’ll find that Theresa has already left. I believe you told her to alert the police. She doesn’t mess around does she? I suggest you stop her before she does something childish like tattle to the authorities. If you come back to the club tomorrow I will give you everything I have.”
***
I managed to catch up with Theresa just outside the club. She embraced me tightly and kissed my cheek. “What happened?”
“Nothing, it’s fine. Like I said just someone playing silly beggars trying to stop me covering the story on Mayor Feltz.”
Theresa wrapped her arm around mine and brought herself close to me. She still seemed to be a little shaken but the crisp night air did some work in taking away our cares.
We found our bright green door lying ajar. We both stopped suddenly.
“Wait here!” I instructed, leaving her and venturing into the house to assess the damage.
The door hinges were broken. The furniture overturned. In the initial inspection it appeared that nothing had been taken. Someone had been just trying to shake me up. What was clear though was that whoever it was, they were relentless.
Wiley reporter Sam Crusow has gotten himself in way too deep.
Missed the previous episodes? Read the story from the beginning.
EPISODE 1 
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    Knock, Knock (episode 2) So I admit, it gave it more than a second thought. Holding the card tightly between my fingertips wondering 'who was this woman from my home land who seemed to know me?' I had left Westcliff at such a young age that I don't remember meeting anyone there and they most certainly wouldn't remember me.
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