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brummiereader · 1 year ago

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YES! 😍! My dreams have come true! Yandere Arthur is everything! And out all of the brothers, he is definitely the one I see being like this the most ❤️. He's a bit of a yandere in "Heaven in your eyes" , that man is obsessed with his Angel.

Oh dead god, he's already given her a nickname, this man is not subtle at all 😅. I love the way you wrote about her feeling his on her eyes, because it's a real feeling that the human body picks up on, it's freaky but so accurate!

Erh no bunny, giving you his coat is not a nice gesture, red flag number one 😅! Oh god she smiled to him, never smile to them, they instantly think you have fallen in love with them already, these yandere men don't think like the rest of us do.

Shark, you are creeping me out...i love it 😈. This feels far too real. The way he just waits outside her school and she spots him, gave me shivers. Yandere Arthur is honestly terrifying, the way he just snaps in and out of personalities is so scary, and this line..."Eh, sorry. I don't mean to scare but yer just so cute." I'm with Bunny, what the hell does that even mean 😳??

"And how could you be safe if he was not there to take care of you?" This is the kind of messed up reasoning these men have, starting to sound like your brother from "killing me softly " Arthur 😂. You have perfectly captured Arthurs horrifying obsession with her, he is slowly losing it over her. There's no argument, she will be his wife, whether she likes it or not, and the way he justified it was so haunting.

The thoughts running through this mans head of what he wants to do are the stuff of nightmares, this man is a psychopath! He is consumed by her, body and soul...hmm sounds familiar, Heaven? I think your hubby is a yandere, but a softer version 🤗😂.

Holy crap! The image of him standing at her door with ropes and a bottle of whisky is now embedded into my brain. I can totally see this happening, the whiskey and drugs are dulling any sense of humanity and reasoning he has left, he has reached breaking point, he must have her 😬😳. Oh god and he has leather gloves on (*gulp👌🥵, stop it brummie, he's a psycho!)

"I'll make ye fookin' happy. And when you will understand that you love me, you’ll spread your legs for me yourself. Like a big girl.” 😳... I'm speechless, 😲. This Arthur tops all yandere men I have read, he is utterly insane!

Oh no she's fallen for it, this is the worse part! Arthur is never letting her go, she's just shackled herself to him for life without realising it.

"Somehow he knew it was wrong but it wasn't his fault. He just loved you a little too much"...wow incredible final words. So haunting, I have chills! I have absolutely loved this Shark ❤️. I mean you can tell I'm into yandere stories I've done a whole series on one 😂, this story is going up there in my top list of fav reads! Thank you so much for writing this, I never saw the end result of your poll, was this the most asked for WIP?

Hey Bunny || Yandere!Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: At the bottom of madness and drug addiction, Arthur falls into a spiral of obsession with you after you reject him. But it's okay if you don't want him, he'll have his way with you anyway -- inspired by the song Saccharine by Jazmin Bean and Bunny from Baby Bugs.

Words: 3k.

TW: Drugs use, unreliable narrator, unrequited love, graphic depictions of violence, blood, allusions to non-consensual sex, stalking, depiction of obsessive behavior, horror, psychological manipulation — this is dark, experimental, and out of character.

Notes:

▸ Arthur's darling is nicknamed "Bunny" + Hints of physical descriptions

It all started one rainy night of Birmingham’s bleak winter. You had entered the Garrison right before Arthur closed its doors, soaked to the bones and shivering to the core. In truth, you had barely stepped out of the university’s library when you got caught in the rain. At first, you thought you could make it home without trouble but what was supposed to be a few drops soon turned into floods of rain pouring down on you. Here you stood in the empty bar, your back against the closed door, panting as if you had just run for your life. Arthur looked at you with a confused gleam in his steel blue eyes, unable to tell if you were real or the most magnificent illusion the whiskey — or the drug — had ever created. You quickly apologized for bothering him so late and then told him you needed to call your mother to ask her to pick you up.

All he had been able to do was grunt, all flustered, and then pointed the room in which the phone was with his finger. Taken aback by your otherworldly beauty, Arthur could not stop looking at you from behind the bar while you’re talking to your mom through the phone. At first, you were so relieved by the sound of your mother's voice that you just smiled. But as time passed, you started to feel slightly uneasy, until you noticed it: the heavy weight of Arthur’s eyes staring at you. From the moment you met to the one you left the Garrison, he had not shifted his eyes from you one tiniest second. The way you moved, the traits of your doll face, your frail silhouette, how your thin fingers closed around the phone’s metallic body, and how your lips opened then closed as you spoke… He was obsessed with you. Obsessed with everything you did, everything you were.

When you hung up the phone, you closed your eyes for a few seconds, and tried to soothe the unpleasant feeling that was creeping under your skin.

“Can I —"

The bartender's gravel voice made you jump. In one swift movement, you turned around and looked at him with a bit of fear shining in your beautiful hazel eyes. Arthur's lips stretched in a faint smile as a reply to your little fright.

"Erm, do ye want a drink or something? I mean, ye don't have to go right away.” He stated, showing you the empty glass he had in his hand. The thing was, you weren't in the mood to drink with a stranger, trapped in a bar in the middle of the night. Not that you didn't trust people in general, but you didn't trust the Peaky Blinders; and that guy, that tall and lanky bartender with his perfect suit and perfectly trimmed mustache, was one of them. Worst, he was a Shelby. And your mother always told you to avoid these Shelby men like the plague.

“That’s very nice, Mr. Shelby," You started, carefully choosing the next words that were going to come out of your slightly quivering lips, "But I must decline your invitation. I must have caught something in the rain because I am not feeling well and drinking alcohol would certainly worsen my headache.” You said with the most polite smile you could do, afraid to offend him for you've heard of his violent nature.

"Ah, alright Bunny," He replied with a little chuckle, trying his best to be affable despite his reputation and the line of snow he had just snorted before your arrival, "That's going to be a glass of water for ye, eh."

"Bunny?"

"Yer notebook. You've drawn a bunny on the cover."

"Oh." You exclaimed, glancing quickly at the wet notebook that was sticking out of your bag, "Yes I did," You slowly exhaled through your nostrils, "Okay for the glass of water. Thank you so much."

And that was all that happened this evening. You sat on one of the bar's stools, sipped on your glass of water, and waited impatiently for your mother to come. Arthur and you exchanged a few words though. He even put his long dark coat on your shoulders to keep you warm. Surprised by such a nice gesture, you blessed him a genuine smile. Little you knew that it was more because he was distracted by the way your wet dress stuck to your body and highlighted the round shape of your perky nipples than anything else.

It was at the moment he was about to ask you out for dinner that a car stopped in front of the Garrison. You gave his coat back and, with one last thank you, you left the pub without turning back.

"See ye soon, little Bunny." He simply whispered in the empty bar, still standing in front of the door a few minutes after your departure.

The next day he looked for any information he could collect about you. And God knew how he managed to learn so much but he ultimately found both your address and the one of the school you were attending.

From then, you started to receive huge and magnificent bouquets of flowers every week.

He waited for you in front of your university, his tall and slim silhouette leaning against a wall as he gulped down a mouthful of whiskey from his flask. Even if he had learned the major you were studying, he did not manage to find out your precise schedule. Hence, he decided to wait patiently for you to come out of the building. When his steel-blue eyes caught sight of you exiting the university with one of your friends, a sparkle of excitement shone in his iris. He walked to you, his long coat floating behind him as he did. Your facial expression turned into a surprised one when you saw him.

"Hey, Bunny."

"Mr. Shelby? What are you doing here?" You questioned, skipping the polite greetings. You took a quick glance at your friend, whose face had contorted into a frightened expression at Arthur's presence. Of course she also knew who the Peaky Blinders were.

"Just wanted to check if ye were doin' better."

"I'm fine. Thanks." You straight off replied

"Listen I-- I should go. See you tomorrow Y/N." She quickly said, walking away, thus leaving you alone with Arthur Shelby -- to his greatest pleasure.

A little shaky sigh escaped from your lips as your eyes fell back on Arthur. This time, you noticed details you did not before: his hands were shaking, his movements were slightly erratic, and his pupils were dilated. For sure, he was completely high.

"I was wondering," His hoarse voice broke the silence, "Can I take ye out for dinner? I know a great restaurant." He finally said, and his words had the immediate effect to make you blush. Was Peaky Blinders really asking you out? You blinked several times, making sure you were not having some kind of weird hallucination before your lips parted.

"I really appreciate it, Mr. Shelby --"

"Arthur." He corrected, his heart pounding in his tight chest as he waited for your reply.

"Yeah, thank you for your invitation, Arthur. But I have a boyfriend." You said out of the blue. His smile broke in thousands of sharp bits, "And he's waiting for me so... " You did not finish your sentence. Instead, you simply gifts him an apologetic smile and turned around to walk away. But all of sudden, his large hand grabbed you fiercely, which caused a little yelp to fall your lips.

"Got a man, hm?" His gravel voice repeated, a bit more threateningly. You started to regret your stupid lie the moment you felt his fingers tightening around you until your wrist felt sore and your skin bruised, "Fook him and just say yes. I'll make you spend a fookin' great evening." He said through gritted teeth.

"S-Stop that! You're hurting me!" You rebelled. Panic kicked so violently that you could not help but claw the skin of his hand with your nails. In despair, you looked around you but no one was there. The only people who met your gaze simply walked away: no one wanted to have beef with Arthur Shelby. Blood stuck under your nails as you scratched his skin, but the pain did not seem to have any effect upon him, his nerves numbed by cocaine. Yet, it was enough for him to release you from his menacing grip. Arthur stepped back and his mood switched again. Now, he was rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed at the sight of your frighted eyes.

"Eh, sorry. I don't mean to scare but yer just so cute."

You looked at him, confused and scared. What the hell was he talking about? How were these two things correlated? And how did he find the university in which you were studying? All of these questions bumped into each other in your mind. "Listen, I should go. My boyfriend's waiting." You concluded and left, not wanting to stay with Arthur for another minute. All you wanted was to flee from his stressful presence.

"Oi!" He called you as you were straying away from him, "Did ye like the flowers?!"

Your heart missed a beat at the sudden realization: he was the one who sent them. Shivering with fear, you hastened your walk. Arthur took another sip of whisky, looking at the way your body was swaying at each of your steps. Every move you make, you were fucking sweeter than a cake. Like, he didn't know how you did that but you were literally making him go bonkers.

To the extent that he began following you in the streets the days that followed your rejection. His shadow was always lurking somewhere behind you, or in the darkest corner of a place. What started as a harmless crush turned into something that was terrorizing you on daily basis. Soon, you could not go one with your life without becoming paranoiac. Because you knew he was there. Every time, everywhere. Even when you could not see him. You could feel his petrifying presence following you outside...

But you didn't understand. You were getting him wrong. You were far too sweet for a damned city like Small Heath, so he had to make sure you were safe. And how could you be safe if he was not there to take care of you?

A feverish sigh escaped from his lips as the stars of pleasure that danced under his eyelids started to disappear. Arthur's backed up with a growl and extended one of his arms to grab his trousers and his shirt from the other side of the couch. He quickly put some clothes back on and slapped a banknote on the nightstand.

"Get the fook' out of here." He growled, slipping a cigarette between his lips. Still panting, sweat made the freckled skin of his bare chest glisten under the lights. With one trembling hand, he slicked his hair back while the prostitute he had just paid left the room half-naked, gathering all her remaining strength to leave the house as fast as she could. Arthur let out a cloud of smoke from his mouth and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he wanted to stop his dawning headache.

You know, he did it only because that whore looked a bit like you when he fucked her from behind like with the delicacy of an animal in heat. Yeah, she looked definitely a bit like you when he had wrapped her long ginger hair around his fist and pulled it while exploring the deepest parts of her.

But he made himself the promise to stop all this kind of shit and be a good husband when you would embrace his love. Because you would. You just needed a bit of time to realize it.

But first, he had to wipe the other bitches out, so it was only you and him.

One night he really fucked up though, but you had provoked him by talking to that young and handsome man. He was called Gaspard, and he was probably the boyfriend you had been talking about. Arthur had tried to keep his calm, but when his saw the way you laughed at his jokes and hugged his arm against your breasts it made his self-control slip. He could not let him ruin his chances and take you away from him — especially because Gaspard was far more attractive and younger than him, with his charming smirk, his perfect dumb-looking haircut, and his cunning grey eyes.

Arthur had waited for the night to come and, when the unfortunate young man crossed his path, he grabbed him and pulled him into a dark alley. He could not remember what happened in detail for his rage took possession of him, but he did recall the burning feeling of anger that boiled within. He had slashed his face with a razor blade before beating him to death. He went home right after, drinking and drugging himself until he passed out on the floor.

He might have reacted a bit too much but he needed to be the only one for you. He was pretty sure you'd understand.

Sometimes the love and inextinguishable desire he felt for you was so overwhelming that he ended up not knowing if he wanted to hug you tight or fuck you against a wall until you cried his name and beg for him to stop. Then he would hate both himself and the drugs for the wicked thought of ruining you that had crossed his mind. How could you make him feel like he did? Sometimes this shit was scaring him. He grew afraid of the power you had upon him, leading him to pull his own hair and scream with frustration, rolled in a ball on the floor of his living room. He could not get you out of his fucking head and it messed with his already eroded sanity.

But you were sweet. So sweet he was convinced his teeth would hurt from your saccharine taste the day his lips would kiss yours and his tongue would lick the love juice from your innocent little pussy.

What he'd do to have you sitting here next to him... From massacring the men who dare to be interested in you, to sabotaging your mother’s car the day you were supposed to leave Birmingham for a few months because you were genuinely traumatized by him, especially after Gaspard's gruesome death. But Arthur would rather die than live one day without seeing your face, even though it sometimes made him want to gouge out his eyes, for your cuteness submerged his senses each time he would look at you.

But he wanted some more.

So he knocked at your door one night when you were all alone in your house. In truth, he had carefully spied on your mother's phone calls, and he knew she was going to spend the night at your grandparent's home.

When you opened the door, you backed up in fear and looked at him with tears streaming down your face, your body reacting viscerally to him for he had haunted your life for months. He was here, towering you with all his height, holding an empty bottle of whisky in one hand, and ropes in the other. A whimper of fear escaped from your lips as he pushed you inside and closed the door behind him, forcing you to welcome in your own house. Your heart drummed to the cacophony of your anxiety because his body crashed against yours when he pulled you in a forced hug, his nose brushing your cheek and his whiskey breath fanning over your skin as scorching as a dragon’s.

“Arthur, please” You sobbed.

“That's okay Bunny. I'm not gonna hurt you eh.” He let the ropes fall on the ground, as well as the empty bottle that crashed against the wooden floor and broke into pieces in a noise so sharp that you almost flinched.

"Please, you need to stop that!" You begged, but he wasn't listening. Quite the contrary, one of his gloved hands pinned yours above your head, while the other went up your skirt to grab your ass.

“Ye know, I think 'bout ye every day at least a hundred times or more.” He grunted, squeezing your butt cheek. The feeling of the leather against your naked skin made your eyes flee from his, ashamed.

"Let me go, please, let me go!" You tried to fight, but you couldn't move anymore. He was trapping you between his body and the wall. All you managed to do was exhaust yourself: the more your fought, the more you felt strangely weak. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat, your words breaking down his core. They were spinning within, intoxicating him as you stopped struggling in his grip and finally let his hands conquer your body, defeated.

"Hey relax Bunny, I ain’t gonna fuck you if that's what yer afraid of. You ain't no whore eh, I wanna spoil you and treat you like the princess you are before we make love, eh." He whispered in your ear before leaving small bites along your neck, his mustache scratching your skin and his body lingering for more. A smile flattered his liquored lips for he could feel your heartbeat, right under your small breasts that were crushed against his chest. "I'll make ye fookin' happy. And when you will understand that you love me, you’ll spread your legs for me yourself. Like a big girl.”

"Arthur please, I don't... I don't feel well..." You suddenly said as you felt your head spin.

"I know, Bunny. Don't fight it."

Without understanding what was happening, your body collapsed and Arthur caught you in his arms, keeping you from falling on the floor.

"I'm here." He said with a soothing hoarse voice.

His soft smile was the last thing you saw before darkness fogged your brain. You closed your eyes, your body limp in Arthur's hands as you lose consciousness.

All of your little habits held no secrets for him. He knew your favorite place to go, your favorite type of clothes, and what you liked to read. He even knew that each night, you drank a glass of cold milk before going to bed. That was how he came up with the idea to drug the bottle the milkman brought you earlier.

You let out a little painful moan when you tried to open your eyes, the blinding light fueling the throbbing headache you suffered from since you woke up. Your mouth was as dry as a desert and your head as painful as if someone was smashing your skull constantly with a hammer. In truth, you didn't even remember what happened -- All you knew was that the masculine perfume you smell on the bedsheet and on your own skin wasn't familiar. Forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, you groaned and slowly looked around you, each movement demanding an indescribable effort for your body still felt heavy because of the drug.

This was not your bedroom.

That sole information was enough to send a surge of adrenaline in your brain, and you managed to sit on the edge of the bed, panicking despite the cotton-like haze that was still numbing your brain. You wanted to get off the bed and rushed to the door. You wanted to scream, to burst into anger, but you remained still, petrified in your own body. That was until you caught sigh of someone at the corner of your eyes.

"Ar-Arthur?" You called with a weak voice.

"Mornin' little Bunny." He replied, standing from his chair and putting his half-empty bottle of whisky on the nightstand next to you. Then, his slim body smoothly moved to the edge of the bed, on which he sat. You backed up a little bit in reflex.

"My head hurts..." You lamented, crystal tears beading at the corner of your honey-like eyes. Arthur replied to your complaint by gently pressing his large and warm hand on your forehead to alleviate the pain. Surprisingly enough, the sensation was pleasant.

"I know, love. You've drunk a bit too much and that guy wanted to take advantage of ye. So I intervened and brought ye here. Don’t worry, you're going to be fine.” He whispered, his words as soft as a feather's caress, "All ye need is a well-deserved rest, and when you'll wake up I'll be there and I'll take care of ye, eh." He states, gently forcing you to lie on the bed. Your body fell limp on the mattress and as it did, Arthur leaned over you. Some strands of his hair fell on each side of his face as he brought it closer to yours until his lips crashed against your cheek to lay a tender kiss on it. You squeezed your eyelids shut when the tip of his nose gently bumped against your skin. Somehow, it felt as good as confusing.

"Yeah, I'll take care of ye." He repeated, the gravel in his voice making your whole body shiver. Something was definitely wrong with this situation, you thought. Was you at a party yesterday? You could not remember. But you were confused, in pain, and tired. So tired you rolled on your side and snuggled against the only perso that had been here for you: him.

“Well— thanks I guess,” You whispered before falling asleep again, unknowing of the fact you’ll never leave this house ever again.

Arthur smiled.

Somehow he knew it was wrong but it wasn't his fault. He just loved you a little too much.

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

tagging: @brummiereader because you told me you needed a Yandere!Arthur in your life, babe! also tagging @raincoffeeandfandoms because I don't remember if ya wanted to be tagged on all my works or just Heaven in Your Eyes??

#Yandere Arthur #He just loves her a little too much that's all #Arthur shelby x reader #Shark ❤️#peaky blinders #Peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic

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i4z-0892-il · 5 years ago

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Monster House 6

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 4884

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language, smut

A/N: Wow! It’s been a while. This chapter has been sitting in my google docs 90% finished for quite some time. And given the spirit of NaNoWriMo I figured it was time to finish it. So thank you all who have been waiting for this so patiently, and who have been so supportive an lovely in my absence. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I’m still writing! I haven’t forgotten. And now, without further ado...

Immerse yourself in the story, Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

I live for feedback, comments and reblogs! It is the fire that fuels me! The pep in my step! The Adrenaline in my veins! It is the tap of my fingers to a keyboard.

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

The scream that caught in your throat came out as nothing more than a clipped sob and a whisper of air. Frozen in place and time like a marble statue. What was standing before you was impossible. Everyone had heard the stories, the quick hushed warnings not to speak of the White Thing in the Woods too loud lest its attention be drawn. And despite what you knew about the changing moods of the forest, you didn’t buy into it. It was all bullshit just to keep kids from getting lost in the thicket of trees.

Fables.

Urban legends.

Fairy Tales.

That’s all they were.

The White Thing was no more real than the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus.

It wasn’t that you thought yourself too smart to believe in such things, you’d simply taken for granted just how old those Woods were. The America’s were still young, a few hundred years of Colonised society was enough to make a young girl forget that these lands had been here since the beginning. And something lived deep in the underbelly of the wilderness, where even the most foolish or brave-hearted person dare not venture.

It was a beast, massive and filling the space of your vision to the edges. The Thing was so much taller than you, even as it crouched on legs too long and layered with lean muscle; incredible antlers sprouted from its skeletal head like moss covered tree limbs. Sunken eyes set in their deep black sockets as if it was the void looking back at you. Pallid and worn flesh stretched too tight over the unnaturally thin and long bones of its body, seen through the long mangy white locks that hung from it’s skull. Sharp teeth the length of your palm sprung from it’s elongated skeletal snout, yellowed and rust colored from age and use; able to cleave muscle and fat from bone like slicing through butter. Thick mists of air hung heavy as it breathed, and a curious rumble from deep within rolled out of its mouth as it looked you over. You, this pitiful little creature, helpless and paralyzed by fear and disbelief.

If there were any doubts before they were dashed now. You were going to die.

Two things were going to happen. First, you were going to disappear, the Police would put together a short, and limited search party. They’d search through part of the forest, not venturing very far, superstition running too deep in their DNA. The search for you would be called off within a week, and you would vanish into history as nothing more than the face of yet another Missing Girl. Secondly, knowing full well that you played with fire and were burned, the townsfolk would use your death as a cautionary tale to warn other youth to keep in line. To not be the stupid girl that disappeared in the trees. If only she’d heeded her Daddy when he told her to stay clear of the Woods to the North she might still be alive. You would become a myth.

Seconds turned to decades as The White Thing watched you tremble. Tears spilled down your cheeks freezing to the skin at your jaw in the icy air. It tilted its head, leaning forward on one of it’s four boney arms with taloned hands large enough to crush your skull like a grape if it wanted to. You couldn’t breathe.

It sniffed the air around you, as if it could pick up the scent of your terror. It was close enough that you could smell the stench of death pouring from it’s clammy skin. Heart hammering away in your chest you thought for sure it might explode and kill you before this Thing sunk its teeth into your soft flesh. If you were lucky that’s what would happen.

The White thing extended a hand to you, a misty green stone in it’s palm with a symbol carved in it. An offering. Your horror turned to curiosity and confusion, but you were too frightened to move or do anything about your confliction. Moments ticked by agonizing in their pace, years might have passed already. When it finally moved your whole body jerked away on instinct, but it simply placed the stone on the ground, and backed away. And like that it vanished into the mist and ticket of trees just as it had come, like a dream. Or nightmare.

The icy chill dissipated making way for the warmth of late summer, and the trees parted again letting streams of golden light pour through the canopy. Birds began to chirp and the weight sitting on your chest fell away. Suddenly you could breathe again. The moment your limbs regained their use you took off through the woods, tearing through the trees as fast as your legs could carry you, not bothering to stop until you’d broken through the treeline and into your house slamming your bedroom door behind you.

You hid your torn and dirty clothes far into the back of your closet, as if you could will away an evidence of what had just taken place. If you believed it was a dream, a hallucination, some trick of the mind then you could carry on with your life. Just like everyone else. Like nothing had ever happened

What did just happen?

What happened was impossible. Absurd. Lunacy. Delusion. Absolute nonsense. Monsters simply could not be real.

The tightness in your chest gripped your lungs like a vice threatening to cave you in and destroy you from the inside out. There was no way you could go back to normal. What you’d just witnessed upended everything you ever knew. Everything you had been certain of once before.

What else was out there? What else existed in the shadows? Lurking in the dark waiting for the right moment to pounce. Four hours ago you were certain of many things: There was nothing in the woods. The Tooth Fairy wasn’t real. Poltergiest was just a movie, and above all there was nothing to be afraid of in the woods.

You went to bed that night with your eyes locked on your window, blinds and curtains drawn, waiting. Waiting for the whispers to begin and the knocking. After the adrenaline had finally left your bones chattering, exhaustion kicked in and sleep eventually took you.

When you woke in the morning you couldn’t help but be relieved, maybe it had just been a bad dream after all. You were in one piece, in the safety of your bedroom, all windows, doors, fingers and toes in place. You were going to do all you could to forget it. Although you would never venture through the woods again.

Kicking your legs over the bed and planting your feet on the floor you stretched your arms out over your head, tensing and cracking at the joints. You let out a satisfied groan and huffed a sigh as you pushed disheveled hair from your face. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you walked down the hall and turned to the living room staring for the kitchen. Absolutely starving, the most heavenly thing you could think of was a packet of pop tarts that had your name in it.

You snagged a bag and cast a glance at the clock on the stove reading 8:18 am. Usually everyone was up by now. Your little brothers were under no circumstances ones to miss Saturday morning cartoons. Mom was usually piddling around, or working on a quilt she’d never finish, and Dad no doubt would be outside already and under the hood of that old Mustang. The silence and stillness of the house as you moved through its rooms made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, it was never this quiet on a Saturday morning. What stopped you in your tracks like slamming into a wall was your bookbag. The one you’d dropped in the maze of trees, sitting on the coffee table in the living room, as if it had been there the entire time.

Pulse raced, and blood pumped furiously through your veins as you slowly reached out a hand picking up the bag you thought you’d surely never see again. A little green stone with a marking in the middle dropped from your bag to the coffee table, and your blood turned to ice.

The crushing realization set in along with that black shroud of doom you couldn’t shake. Your legs moved before your brain could process, carrying you down the hall like a doll on a string. You swung the door open to your brothers’ room where carnage painted the walls a sticky dark red. Frozen to the spot, you couldn’t scream, all you could do was let your eyes trail over the mutilated remains of your younger siblings.

Eyes snapped open as you jolted from your sleep. It’d been more than a decade but you’d never really left the woods of that sleepy town. That shadow had followed your every step since, haunting you, lurking in the back of your mind and biding it’s time. It was the Washington State forests that reminded you of the thick wilderness of West Virginia, of home. The same thing happened in Michigan, the Wendigo. Dense woods were more than enough to trigger what you’d done your best to tuck away. Every hunter has an origin story, most aren’t born to it. Most have paid a devastating price for the knowledge of what lives in the dark. You were no different than any of the rest of them, but unlike most of them who found a place in the violence and anonymity, this life gave you no pleasure.

The blood thirsty look in a man's eye is unmistakable, and is a trait shared among a vast majority of hunters. First it’s fueled by vengeance, then it’s something to fill the void until you learn to hate the things you hunt, and killing them brings you a release you couldn’t otherwise find. But for you it was a job, a disgusting one that you’d rather not have been the one to do, but if not you, then who? Some other poor girl who wandered into the wrong place? Truth was you couldn’t have lived with yourself if you left the supernatural for others to deal with who might not be as lucky or well prepared as you.

Your eyes dropped to the floor to see an empty mat and blankets where Sam must have slept overnight. He was an early riser but dawn wasn’t for hours stillt, maybe he couldn’t sleep either. Letting out a sigh you shut your eyes and rolled away from the edge of the bed to the middle on your side as the throb of a headache began to set in and the world tilted around like a weeble wobble. You were still half drunk, and felt like you’d gone four rounds with a brick wall. When you opened your eyes again a shock of breath caught in your throat to find that you weren’t as alone as you’d thought.

Sam lay stretched out on his back, an arm tucked under his pillow and propping up his head, looking something like a painting in the darkness before Sunrise. A peaceful person he was not, but in that moment it might have fooled you that he could be. So often his brow was furrowed in thought or concentration, his broad shoulders tense with such worry that he rarely looked comfortable. Seeing him asleep was nothing new, but being able to relish in his image without interruption and so close was. He was right there, you could feel the heat radiating from him, seeping through the sheets. You could touch him, you could reach out and touch him. Trace your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, and down the length of his throat like you’d imagined doing hundreds of times. You could press your lips to his cheek and curl his long silky hair around your fingers. You could. He was right there and you were still tipsy, less inclined to listen to the practical side of your brain.

There was no telling how he ended up in bed with you. Last thing you remembered was being too drunk to stand up on your own, and in times like those you were prone to putting your foot in your mouth. It would have taken a flash in his eyes for the secrets you’d been keeping to spill out of your mouth like a burst dam. It would have taken a grin to his lips and a dimple to let loose the fact that you wanted him. He wouldn’t have taken you up on your offer, not with you being so intoxicated but you must have done something right to bring him to your bed.

You could have watched him breathe forever. The world could have caved in around you and everything fell to ruin, but it wouldn’t have mattered, because he was just so close. Worries melted away just by sheer proximity, and the nightmare you had just roused from fell away with the rest of your problems. If there was one silver lining to the life you lead, it was Sam. Sure the hunting evil, saving people and all that gave the occasional warm fuzzies, but that was expected of you. It was your job. It was thankless and messy and scary and frankly you hated every second of it. There were things you’d planned on doing with your life. Places you’d planned on exploring, people you’d planned on meeting. You had your eye on being a Surgeon, Cardiac, the best the field had ever seen. You had colleges in mind, and the determination to make it happen.

How quickly life changes.

If you had been told at fifteen that this would be your life, you’d have laughed. Never in a million years would you have guessed that you’d live the rest of your life as a Professional Ghost Popper, on the road, in shitty motels and surviving on gas station hot dogs. Though it wasn’t all bad. There was Sam. He waltzed into your life like a breath of fresh air. A kindred spirit. A sliver of hope where there was none. He wanted out too, he only mentioned t it a few times, and usually inebriated, but it was enough. He didn’t like the job any more than you did, but you’d both been doing it so long you couldn’t imagine life outside of it. It was that fear of the unknown that kept you both in your safe spaces. If there was any reason to leave the shelter of the dark, it was Sam.

He shifted in his sleep with a small sigh,his head falling to the side and into the stream of silver moonlight, and there as no fighting the need to reach out and touch his face. Fingertips ghosted over the line of his jaw, resting softly at his chin where your eyes fell to his lips, rosy, soft and parted. You thought of the women lucky enough to know what his lips tasted like. Were they sweet like he was? Intoxicating?

The screen on his phone lit up on the nightstand as the time ticked over to 3:30 and his alarm began to sound. You dropped your hand away, and Sam let out a remorseful groan as he rolled on his side and reached a long arm over you to the nightstand to hit snooze. His head hit the bed and he was out again, arm left to drape over you, heavy and warm. Trying to pull your arm free he stirred again, his arm wrapping around your back and pulling you to him as his nose nuzzled into your shoulder.

The swell in your chest was nearly drowning you, it was exactly where you’d always wanted to be, and the one place you’d never allow. Maybe… maybe just for a minute you could allow it. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla and coffee, and the feel of his lips against your shoulder took over your senses. You’d have given anything to stay just like that forever.

Your fingers slipped through silky tresses, and long eyelashes fluttered open at the touch.The sunflowers in his eyes, even in that dim light, took your breath away.

“Good morning,” you whispered. A smile curled his lips and created that perfect dimple in his cheek. Not quite awake he let himself sink around you breathing in the natural perfume of you, and the warmth of your skin, soft like butter and better than he’d dreamed. Only he wasn’t dreaming. The alarm hadn’t woken him like it was supposed to, but you wrapped in his arms certainly did. He told himself that he’d keep his distance, he wasn’t going to encroach on your space. The last thing a drunk girl wants to wake up to is a guy in her bed. But when he turned his eyes up to meet yours, and a lazy smile graced your lips he eased.

“You’re still drunk aren’t you?” He asked.

“No,” you answered nodding your head ‘yes.’ He replied with an amused snicker and pulled his arm away, stopping at your hip when you didn’t move away. You’ve looked at him with those bedroom eyes like that before. A few times. You were drunk each time. When you were sober you were well composed, only allowing yourself to get but so close. When you had a few you let your guard down, just a little, just enough to get a peek over the wall. He’d seen you drunk and on the prowl, and while that was certainly a sight to behold, you were different when you were alone with him.

With him you were vulnerable in a way you couldn’t be sober, when the girl who had a rock collection in her youth came out. The girl who read The Silmarillion annually, and taught herself to speak, read and write in Elvish. The girl who hates raisins, and catches spiders to set them loose outside instead of killing them. The girl he wanted to get to know more than he’d wanted to know anyone. You’d be three doubles and four beers in, and that look would flash across your eyes. Cheeks flush with drink, eyes half lidded and looking only at him. Then your lips would curl into a smile, and it was almost impossible to resist. Each new day with you proved harder than the last to find a reason why it was a bad idea to be with you.

“Right, and I’m the Pope.” He snarked, as he pulled himself away from your touch and sitting up, regretting not staying put longer almost immediately.

And the moment was over, back to business as usual in an instant. The pang in your chest was miserable. Swinging your legs over the bed you stood up stretching your arms over your head and waiting for the room to stop spinning.

“So, uhm, guess the floor wasn’t as comfy as you thought?” You said, kicking the pile of blankets.

“Yeah. Something like that.” He said. You didn’t remember.

Sam heard the thud of your body hitting the floor, finding you in a heap when he yanked the b

athroom door open. Gathering your limp frame in his arms he checked your head for blood, and grateful to find you’d missed the nightstand. Long fingers smoothed hair from your face still flush with drink, and a little paler than usual. Sam had seen you black out drunk before, but he’d never seen you pass out before, the cooking class must have been torture.

The way you settled in his arms as he lifted you was perfect. The last time he’d held you like that you were holding your guts in and bleeding out from a stabbing after a hunt went sideways. The color was draining from your face to pour down your stomach. You were fighting so hard to stay awake, even as your lips turned blue and your eyes lolled to the back of your head. The teeth in your head had begun to chatter so hard he thought they were going to shatter, but you kept talking, the whole time. Raving about how the rampant uncheck misogyny running through the fabric of our culture affects young girls on fundamental levels since birth. The more you talked, the angrier you got, the longer you stayed awake. It was all you could think to do to stay awake. In a less dire situation he’d have paid more attention to your tirade, but all he could do was look on you with amaze. You were the strongest woman he’d ever met in his damn life. You were still ranting when the Medical staff at the hospital took over.

This was how he wanted it to be, soft and warm, safe. The way you settled in his arms was like you were made to be there, like he was made to hold you.You were home. Sam laid you in the bed, and pulled the blankets up around you when you took hold of his hand.

“Stay with me, Sam.” You said in an airy whisper, eyes still closed. Who was he to refuse? He probably should have taken longer to think about it, if he were more noble he might have, but he didn’t argue when you asked him to stay. So he climbed into the bed, careful to give you more than enough space. Countless times had he wished that things were different for his life, this should have been one of them. But truth was if neither of you had become hunters odds were you’d have never met. And even though the life he lead seemed more hellish than anything else, he’d met you.

Silencing the alarm on his phone he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over you as you stretched, the way your hair fell, bedhead messy and lovely against your neck begging for his hands to touch

“Oh, I found out where Mr. Lonely is buried. I figure we can go salt and burn the body before the Sun is up, come back, take a nap then hit the road.” You suggested.

“You don’t want to stay for Wine tasting?” He snarked.

“Preferably not, but if we have to then I’m just going to stay drunk today.” You answered, and he grinned.

“We should probably still do an EMF sweep.”

“Really? Can’t we just torch the corpse and call it a night?” You pouted as you watched him move around the room to gather clothing to change into. He stopped to ponder at the bathroom door before giving a nod. It was late, or incredibly early, you were still trashed and both of you only got a couple hours of shut eye. There was no reason not to just get the bottom line done.

“Fine, we can skip it, but we have to stay tonight to make sure it’s done.” He compromised. Sitting in a chair to tie your boots you paused to consider if skipping part of an investigation was worth sticking around for another single night. You turned your eyes up to Sam who stood so tall and broad, and firm, you had your answer.

Yes. Definitely yes. The case would be closed, you’d get to drink, and actually enjoy a little bit of relaxation- though this would not have been your first choice. And it would just be you and Sam, nothing to worry about other than simply being.

“I agree to your terms.” You said pulling a flask of whiskey from one of your bags. Hair of the dog, you were going to power through the oncoming hangover. You had an empty day ahead of you that you were going to fill with Sam, your enthusiasm was genuine. “Get dressed and lets go defile a grave!”

Hiking at night wasn’t something you wanted to make a habit of doing. The sky was clear, and the Moon was particularly bright which was great until you hit the treeline where the path to the Graveyard was. The black chasm of the trees swallowed up the silvery Moonlight till there was nothing left but pitch. Then your fear of dense woods sprung up again like a steadily increasing anxiety riddled game of whack-a-mole. There was nothing to be afraid of, you had flashlights, Sam, and you were strapped. Your brain wasn’t giving you a reprieve however, you kept expecting to turn your head and see the skeletal bloody face of the White Thing to appear in the darkness between the trees, ready to spring out and finish the job it started more than a decade ago. A cold chill slid up your spine sending a dread filled shudder down your body. With each step you had to remind yourself that you weren’t back home in West Virginia, you were on the other side of the country, in Washington, it wasn’t going to find you after more than a decade. You hoped at least. If the White Thing wasn’t in the woods there was something else in there with eyes that stalked your movements, putting you on edge, and making you paranoid. Trepidation rattled you, and you found yourself stepping closer to Sam as you walked, finding relief and comfort with each brush of his arm against yours.

It was a 20 minute hike, in the pitch black wild wilderness, at 3 o’clock at night, but once you hit the gravesite it was worth it. The site sat on a cliffside at the top of the mountain, just a small clearing in the trees, what could have knocked the wind out of you was the most magnificent view of the peaks and valleys of the mountain range, stretching as far as the eye could see. More stars hung in the sky than you had seen in a very long time, no light pollution, no noise, just the calm quiet. No wonder Wellington wanted his family buried there. You allowed yourself a few moments to soak it all in before setting to work.

Stabbing the spade end of your shovel into the pile of loose dirt, you dropped your butt down to sit, legs dangling into the large hole before you. With a sigh you wiped sweat from your brow as you rifled through the pockets of your jacket for a short, partially smoked joint.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?” Sam asked from inside the hole, a teasing grin on his face as he looked up at you. Answering him with a shrug you lit up and took a long drag. While he didn’t care much for smoking in general, it was difficult to tear his eyes away from the smoke wafting and curling in transparent tendrils spouting from your lips.

“It’s never too early or late for this.” You answered offering it to him, he declined with a shake of his head, quickly setting back to the task at hand- digging up a corpse. An old, rotten, decayed, mouldering corpse. If you could rate aspects of your job in order, digging up bodies was at the bottom of the list. Though to be honest, there weren’t many things that you did like about the job. There was the bonus of a flexible schedule, and the option to travel, and there was, of course, the fact that your co-workers were a little more than easy on the eyes. But there were no tax exemptions, or paid expenses, no benefits, fuck not even a reliable salary. It wasn’t a job you did because you wanted to, you detested almost everything about it. But someone had to do it.

No one wants to tell you how much effort is involved in digging up a six foot deep grave armed with nothing but a couple of old rusty shovels and sheer willpower. No one wants to tell you how long it takes either. The Sun was going to be up in the next hour or so, and the cover of darkness was a necessary precaution when it came to gravedigging. When Sam’s shovel struck something hard and hollow you could not have been more thrilled. Your eyes met his, as he moved to get a better angle.

Sam jammed the spade of his shovel between the lid of the coffin and the side prying it open with creaking wood and a crack of relief as the lid came loose.

“...The hell?” Sam’s face twisted in confusion as he lifted the top, hazel eyes moved back to you as he shoved the lid to the side of the hole revealing an empty coffin.

“Well that can’t be a good sign.” You announced, just as puzzled as Sam.

“You’re sure he said he was buried here?”

“No Sam, I just made it up so we could pointlessly dig a hole in the middle of the night for fun.” You sarcastic eyes at him.

“Hey, I know how much you love digging holes. So if he’s not here-”

Then just where the fuck is he?”

Tags:

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#Sam Winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam fanfic #sam winchester fanfic #sam smut #sam winchester smut #monster house

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achieveandhunt · 5 years ago

Text

live typing extra life 2019

part 2

warning: this was a mistake and i’m in the grapes

this starts right at Facilities vs AH. link to first post

let’s fuck some shit up babEY

oh what the fuck they’re playing a prerecorded video

last year was a fuckin doozy, nobody forget that

“legends of the under achiever” i didn’t know someone wrote my biography

why do i hear geoff screaming “FIVE FUCKIN FOUR” in my head, like in the legends of the hidden temple minecraft videos

jeremy looks. so dead inside on this fine november evening

ryan buzzing while they’re trying to explain the rules

my video quality went down so much that i thought i was watching someone playing roblox for a second

ryan “salty mother fucker” haywood has made a lovely appearance. he’s my favorite

michael and lindsay looking so domestic makes me so happy,, they’re my parents

someone donated under the name “ryan goes feral” uh??? yeah? you say that like it’s a bad thing??

oH FUCK MICHAEL GO DRIVE WIN PLEASE

jeremy HAS BROKEN OUT THE GLASSES SHIT’S SERIOUS

NO THEY’RE LOSING GOD DAMMIT

ʳʸᵃⁿ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ, ᵠᵘᶦᵉᵗˡʸ: ʰᵉˡᵖ

JEREMY IT’S TIME TO TEST OUT THAT NONEXISTENT GAG REFLEX AND SWALLOW THE OPPONENT’S CONTROLLER

oh nvm they’re winning again lmao

OH FUCK thEYRE LOSING

oh nvm

OH FUCK

oh nvm they unplugged his contoller lol

OH FUCKING TH EY LOST MICHAEL JONES MY HEART IS BROKEN

the amount of people watching has gone up from 32k to 40k in the past fifteen minutes

michael “hurry up you dumb cunts” jones

“oh don’t worry about destroying our cabinet, it’s essentially matchsticks”

“how are you feeling john? are you ready for this?” “MM M M Mmm mM”

TEAM NICE DYNAMITE IS NEXT AND IM READY FOR PERMANENTLY RINGING EARS FROM ALL THE LEET DONATIONS

oH god here we go

“hopefully they haven’t been saving them all day” oh honey. you’ve got a big storm coming

if xavier slaps gavin i think gav might go up in a puff of smoke

i did the math, they went up 45k+ within five minutes of team nice dynamite showing up on stream

GAVIN AND MICHAEL ARE GOING TO DIE

THERE’S GONNA BE A MOONBALL SIZED HOLE IN GAVIN’S CHEST

ryan and lindsay both donating a grand during this segment... so good

the day gavin free successfully gets a tattoo is the day i drop dead

lindsay saying she didn’t want the TND tattoo on michael but she agreed because gav is michael’s boi :(((

i’m too sleep deprived for this i might cry

oh god michael’s punching the floor

i’m too sober for this

EIGHTY EIGHT LEET DONATIONS IN TWENTY MINUTES HOLY FUCJKIGN SHIT YOU GUYS ARE GONNA BE THROWING MOONBALLS FOR FUCKIN SIX YEARS

on a sentimental note- i love how much collective love we have for gav and michael,, they deserve it all

milk boarded has some not-so-great connotations attached to it

gavin “the bullshit bitch” free

a mark nutt reference?? in my 2019 extra life????

this just in: sarah is going to obliterate gavin

oh. oh my god. that was the sound of a wet fish smacking a wall

why is jeremy the liquor goblin walking like a crab that has a bird attached to its back??? see: flapping arms

that beer and milk concoction... gag

“drink that milk yard”

“YOU GOT MY TOES MILKY”

no. nO MICHAEL NO YOUR INTESTINES NOO

michael “the milk’s in my brain” jones

“stop pouring it on people!” “iT’S HARD DICKHEAD”

lindsay is now. taking a milk shower

*caiti brings a small roll of paper towels* *gavin gently places a single paper towel on the massive puddle of milk*

no LINDSAY NO THINK OF THE CHILDREN

gavin: this has gotten way out of hand. she’s... she’s swimming in an inch of milk! everyone knows you should swim in at least two!!

the fajita seasoning will solve everythinG everyone calm down

fiona: yeah this is my first extra life. jack: and what were you expecting? fiona: this. exactly this.

ah yes. the bunny suits have arrived and michael is ready to tackle gavin

aaaand here comes the AH fanfic. it can only get worse from here so buckle up fuckos

“holy fuckeroni”

“re-reanimated trevor”

michael is so fucking smashed and god i wish that was me

“cum-ductor”

fiona “this is a white man” nova

“bone-ating” *leet donation* *leet donation*

“ready set blow” made me genuinely bust a lung laughing

aaaand michael’s licking the floor which is to be expected

jeremy “i’m gonna actually harm you” dooley

IF ONE MORE PERSON BRINGS UP RANCH IM GOING TO WALK TO AUSTIN AND PROJECTILE VOMIT ON THE OFF TOPIC SET

no JEREMY NO YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE I THOUGHT YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS GET OFF THE F L O O R

don’t get close ups on jeremy’s tongue. don’t do that to me. i don’t want nightmares

“fuck root” “let’s just fucking fuck”

1 2 3 CONSENT

michael has gone full gerkie

alfredo’s look when larry is reading the part about trevor choking him is how i feel about everything that’s happened in the past twenty minutes

almost 300k in less than an hour

fiona saying “i don’t want this” overlaying michael humping a trash can

“TAKE THE TACO CHAD”

aaaand michael’s in the trash can

nO why is there a triangle is this a POETRY READING ALL OF A SUDDEN

oh thank god it’s over

OH FUCK THERE’S A N EPILOGUE

aaand trevor’s dead again. poor treyco

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS EVERYONE PUT A CUP IN YOUR PANTS

people singing along... what goes on

why am i downloading this fuckin song asap

jeremy turning his phone flashlight on and waving it like he’s at a concert god dammit i love these people so much

those are my BOYS

oh my gosh they’re still singing the song. why is my heart so happy from this i need to get slapped

“come on you’ve never been waterboarded before gavin?”

everyone standing in a circle shining their flashlights at gavin

someone surprise them and instead of a moonball just yeet a whole gallon of milk at them

actually, on second thought, no

OH god GavIN Is GOING to Die

gavin “i forgot to breathe” free

several milk explosions

gavin “my brain is cold” free

michael has milk dripping from his ears

i’m about to pass out i don’t know what’s happening

michael is in the grapes right now man

how many moonballs? oh, only 107. :)

i’m not writing this part- you guys have to watch the moonball segment yourself, if you didn’t watch it live!

team nice dynamite finishes up with over 300k!! holy shit, that’s so cool! this community is awesome

werewolf is up next!

xavier is such a gentleman can we keep him

alfredo: *chooses to kill miles* trevor in the audience: *silently freaking out*

xavier is about ruin another man on stream

miles has no self preservation instinct

barbara is now smelling fiona

this just in: i love alfredo and 100% would have done the same thing

trevor running up to film alfredo getting smacked. what an icon

alfredo SCREAMING oh my god i felt it in my soul

the high-five of the backs in solidarity of intense pain

miles choosing alfredo is so fucking good

and also, i feel so bad

his heart might shoot out of his asshole this time guys

oh NOOO HE’s so bruised :(((( fredo nooo :((

oh my god it’s gotten to the usual point in the stream where you start to question whether someone is going to die this time

rip blaine but at least i think he can take the hit

he can but ouch it still hurts me

barbara “i’m participating in the game” dunkleman

yo miles might win this game

the crowd when someone needs to shoot barb: TREVOR TREVOR TREVOR! trevor, with the strength of a thousand suns: N O

people are now chanting about shooting an unprotected trevor. the man already died once this stream god dammit

alfredo is about to throw hands for fiona

that’s a big F in the chat for miles, but his loss is well deserved

xavier’s hands could serve as a defibrillator

alfredo showed jeremy his chest and jeremy shied away as if he was looking at the sun

--- i’m taking another break to finish an assignment---

i’m barely alive and it’s ready set show time

oh god please no more shock collars

i’m so fucking tiiiiredd please take thge res t of this post wigth a grain of salt lbecasue i can hardly type at this ponitn

“do you want to control the shock collars” “will there be repercussions” “no” “fuck yeah i’ll do it then”

“smother the children. steal the baby” “DONT STEAL THE BABY TREVOR”

lunging forward “s c a r e t h e b a b y” “OKAY I’M PASSING THIS ONE”

“you can’t bake popcorn????” jeremy hits the floor

alec and matt clearly = dream team

oh thasnk god the shock collars are on their arms now i was stressed out for chris earlier

this stream does not promote recreational nyquil usage

i don’t even know how to explain the pure insanity of what ready set show has become

alec has become this whole segment

i would write more but i have no thoughts because my brain doesn’t work

larry “makes people fuck other people besides their wife” insert last name that my brain can’t come up with

anyways. marbles

oh. no marbles

i’ve blacked out idk what happened during backwardz compatible

i mean i was awake but does that really mean anything at this point

SPPOKU PSOOKY SPPOKKKY SPOOOKY !!! FUCL YEAH

cole is so good during this segment

oh so many 1337s right away

the real scariest thing during the segment: being genuine

oH my god the scream being pitched up. i have fucking dogs outside of my house now

i don’t fuck w/ ghosts no thank you

“aba-jail” wow if u guys weren’t gonna get haunted before you will now

okay i’m about to pass out i have to take a nap

oH fucking I SLEPT until thirty minutes before the en d fuck

conclusion: this community is incredible and raised an unimaginable amount of money for charity. the fact that rooster teeth does this every year is awesome, and honestly, it makes me feel hopeful in times when things aren’t so great. so yeah! for the kids & stuff

#extra life 2019 #rooster teeth #geoff ramsey #jack pattillo #ryan haywood #michael jones #jeremy dooley #gavin free #lindsay jones #trevor collins #matt bragg #fiona nova #alfredo diaz

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nevergenders · 5 years ago

Text

set it off in las vegas on friday (jan 17, 2020)

i showed them my new tattoo which they LOVED, i gave them a trans flag that i wrote on, and generally just had an incredible time. read under the cut!

so my friend bribri (@sarcasticloser7 on twitter) forced me to go before her at vip because i was freaking out with all this hyperactive energy and i was like “noooo!!!” she was like “you should go so you stop freaking out” and i was like “yeaH PRoBabLy”

so when our friend nicole had walked away they turned to see me and both cody and maxx went “nick!!!”

maxx gave me just such a tight hug. that was fantastic. it pretty much overshadowed my memories of codys (first) hug and i only vaguely remember hugging zach because for once he gave me a two arm hug haha.

i went “do you guys wanna see my tattoo??” and they were all like “yeah!!” and i struggled for a moment to take off my jacket sleeve (as you can see in the video) but i told him it was a photo of him holding my hand during the haunting in february and that cole got his handwriting for the lettering in july and cody said “i just got goosebumps! that’s so sweet” and i didnt see it in person but maxx was smiling just such a big smile!! and cody looked just so touched he turned into this 🥺 emoji and gave me just such a CUTE hug. (video post)

i was rushed into photo position and i auickly said “you can give me bunny ears if you want” and cody did last second and it’s so cute. and i ALMOST forgot to give them mine and si’s letters but i gave that before i left and at the end of the video you can just see maxx and cody smiling SO BIG.

(group photo post)

so then we played heads up, and once cody was done with his turn he stood between me and bri and it was probably because he knew we wouldn’t act all weird about it but in my brain i was still like “HUHHH???”

anyways that was really fun and maxx ended up winning. people were fucking yelling at first though i didnt even like try to help fjdjdj also cody dropped his keys which was kinda funny

anyways when that was all done with it was hang out time, i went to maxx first because it seemed like there was the least amount of people around him. i told him how in the past year my life turned around because they built up my confidence so much and he said “well you SHOULD have confidence!” and praised my covers and said “and even your original music is really good” that was like a really great slap in the face because sometimes on-stream in my head it sound like he’s playing up how he feels about it for the sake of the crowd and trying not to sound like an asshole but he really just said that to my face excitedly with no one else listening. THAT was cool.

i talked to zach next, i had to tell him i did the killer in the mirror mashup and the lonely dance mashup, and also told him that i thought it was very sweet that he was checking up on me in july. i think he was feeling under the weather though :( right after he walked offstage he tweeted about how much he hated being sick on tour, i hope he feels better :(

and i definitely talked too much with cody but he definitely wanted to talk to me too. i told him the same thing i told maxx but put a little more emphasis on how much i didn’t have any confidence at all, to which he said “i’ve had moments like that too” and i told him now i have the most confidence i’ve had in a very very long time. and this time i had him take the selfie because i was shaking so much my photo with zach was blurry (woops!)

(selfies post)

and i dont remember exactly what was said to elicit this but as i was about to walk away i brought up the fan power award and how i wanted to cry reading the article and he said “i’m so glad we got that award out of anything else” and i said “you deserve it” and he said “thats all of us, you guys too”

anyways yeah i spent way too long talking with him bc they had been almost out of time and he had to fuckin speedrun the rest of the people in line signing things and taking selfies and right as he was leaving i told him to look out for something i was going to give during the set.

we went back outside, and i bought merch for myself and cole, and someone who didnt have their card and sent me money on mobile. damn! and then we stood outside for so long i was like “why am i here” i was tired and also tired of waiting.

point north was actually pretty good, kellin came out for one of their songs which i was NOT expecting in the slightest (cole was fucking shook, not emotionally prepared). belmont i wasn’t as big of a fan of and i kinda got bored but there were some people there that were super into it, there was a pit and a fair amount of crowdsurfers.

when set it off came on i wasn’t losing my mind as much as i usually am but wow my serotonin levels!!!!! it was INSTANTLY noticeable that they seemed so much happier than when i saw them in july. cody especially was smiling so much, he was having such a good time. and might i say no disrespect is SO much fucking fun live, the left-right thing is super fun. during killer in the mirror cody went on top of the crowd like he usually does and i realized that that would be a good time to give the flag to him (the stage was really tall and the space between the barrier and the stage made me nervous) but he was a little too far and he stood up past me so he didnt see it. so i kept it until catch me if you can, which is when i originally planned to give it to him because wow that song is becoming like my life mantra. he finally saw it once i unfolded it a little and gave me a “gimme a second” finger. so for the second verse he walked over and motioned to give it to him and i was too scared to throw it over the gap so someone else did, and he struggled to unfold it and read what it said during the song so he just waved it a bit and put it on his mic stand. and after the song he opened up the flag with zach and read it, and pointed at me and hit his chest/heart, and he walked up to the mic and said “this is beautiful, thank you.” he kissed it and put it over maxxs drumset 🥺

for the next song i almost fuckin CRIED, he was singing to me so much and gave me a little finger heart and of course the thought in my mind was “why, i don’t deserve this” but then i thought about the tattoo and the past year and i got so emotional i thought i was gonna cry!!! fuck!!!

(gifset post) (video of unfolding flag) (video of holding up flag) (photo)

so yeah basically i am a mess. stan set it off stream catch me if you can and fuckin trans rights babey

#set it off #set it off adventures #ok last big post about this show aldskfjas no more content #sio jan 2020

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forestwater87 · 5 years ago

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Ok this is super embarrassing but you’re one of my favorite writers in this uh.. whatever this blogosphere is so!! I wanna try and take a crack at writing my own fanfic but.. I got no idea where to even start. Any advice?

Oh man, I feel awful about this! I didn’t know my inbox had any new messages, so some of these asks have been sitting here for . . . some time.

Anyway, first off thank you very much! Secondly, the most obvious advice is just, you know, “do it.” But that’s infinitely easier said than done. I started writing fanfic when I was around 10 years old, so overthinking it wasn’t an issue, since I thought I was the world’s greatest writer. Assuming you’re not 10 years old and as blind to the concept of literary criticism as I was . . . well, the first step is obviously getting an idea. EDIT: Holy shit, this is long. I’m gonna have to break this bad boy up with headers, like it’s a real blog post or something.

Getting Ideas/Inspiration

I don’t know if you already have something you’d like to write about or if you’re still at the “gee that looks like fun” level of fanfic ruminating, but if you’re having trouble coming up with ideas, turning to the existing fandom is a great place to start!

1: Filling in fandom gaps: I’ve found a lot of my best fic ideas by looking through what already existed and seeing where there was something missing; when I first started writing for Camp Camp, literally only @raenbowsofficial created anything for Gwenvid -- it didn’t even have a ship name yet, and I’m pretty sure the 3 people into it were still throwing “daven” and “gavid” around as well -- so there being zero other fics for it meant that if I wanted it to exist, I’d have to be the one to write it. (That’s also nice if you’re kind of insecure, because when no one else has tried the idea you’re interested in, you have no pressure to compare it to anything else.)

Also, you could take a popular/already existing concept and write it the way you’d like to see it, if the existing fanfics do something with the story or characters that you’re not thrilled with. That’s handy because it gives you a general blueprint to work off of in terms of tropes and broad story beats, while letting you explore something new. Obviously, don’t rip off someone else’s fic note-for-note, but being inspired by someone else is a great way to kickstart your creativity! If you do have a specific author or story that you’re using as a jumping-off point for your own writing, I would strongly recommend linking them in your author’s notes at the beginning or end of the fic, and maybe gifting the story to them! You don’t have to, since the creation is entirely your own, but it’s still always nice to acknowledge the people who inspire you the most.

2: Fandom inception. If you want to be a little more direct and literal, there’s always the option of writing fanfic of a fanfic or fanart that you really love, if there’s a universe or story idea that you like, and you want more of it. As long as you give credit and notify the original creator, I think you’d have no issues in terms of fanfic etiquette, and I imagine they’d be honored to have inspired your own writing. Fandom is a very collaborative experience, after all, and we’re all in this together! :)

3. For more general “I have a vague idea of what I want to do (the ship, or maybe a tiny plot bunny) but I’m not sure where to go with it,” my biggest recommendation is music. Especially folk indie-rock music, which is 90% angst and 100% haunting. And again, looking at fanfic/art is a great way to get inspired -- I have a tendency to put up a particularly good or emblematic piece of fanart/fic in another window when I’m working on something tricky to write, just for something to stare at when my ideas start running dry (shoutout to @doritofalls, @ellohcee, and the aforementioned RA for being my go-tos when I need to stare at something pretty to feel inspired; there are absolutely others, because this fandom is filled with absurdly talented people, but those 3 are my heroes of inspiration and if you SOMEHOW don’t already know them, fix that immediately).

Wow, that’s a lot and it’s literally just all about getting an idea . . . which you might already have. Yikes. For the sake of people who have to scroll past this, let’s put the rest under a cut:

Fleshing Out the Idea: An Ode to Outlines

Some people are able to just sit down and write something incredible from a vague idea, and the story just builds on itself without any sort of planning or organization to guide them along the way. These people are named Cipher/Campernetics, and we hate her for being unfairly talented.

For the rest of us, outlines are essential.

My outlines tend to be insanely specific, because I’m very afraid of letting a single idea slip through the cracks, and I build on them over time as I get increasingly sure of where the story’s going. The early outlines tend to be extremely vague, with lots of “and then something happens” connecting major plot points. An example for a current WIP I’m doing right now:

(Seriously, “Julia and everything”? Future Forest is going to be so pissed at current Forest when she reaches that point and realizes she has no idea what she’s doing)

And as the story starts to take shape and a plot eventually forms -- they tend to take at least 10 chapters to materialize, but they do generally show up! One of the great things about fanfiction is that plot is largely optional, though, so no worries if you’re starting without a full story idea -- I find myself writing more and more details down, if for no other reason than that I want to make sure I remember what I was thinking when I finally get to that scene (because I have absolutely gotten to a point in a story and forgotten what I’d had planned. It sucks). Here’s an example from another fic with pretty significant spoilers if you can figure out which one it is oops:

I’d recommend keeping your outlines pretty simple, at least to start with: words and phrases, rather than whole-ass sentences like the above. The complexity will develop as your ideas do, so no need to wrack your brain trying to write out the entire story in bullet form.

I use the bolded ideas as stepping stones, more or less; I’ll write out the piece of the story that each line represents, which can be as little as a sentence or as much as 4 or more chapters (RIP my most recent long-running fic), then delete that line and move on to the next.

Bolding them isn’t necessary, but it does make it easier to differentiate at a glance what needs to be written. If you keep everything in the same hundred-page Google Doc like I do, this is very important.

Your outline doesn’t have to be well-written, and you can 100% use fillers like “and then something happens here.” I do that all the time -- again, another completely different story:

Now, the vaguer things are, the more annoyed Future You will be when it comes time to write whatever it’s bulleting -- there’s a reason I haven’t updated this fic, and it’s because I have zero idea what the everliving fuck “Pinky-and-the-Brain-ing all over the place” means -- but it’s really good for when you’re first getting started sketching out the vague outline of your fic. The more you panic trying to figure out all the twists and details at the very start, the less likely you’re ever just going to sit down and write the damn thing.

(This might be why I don’t write plot-heavy stories, to be fair. Mystery writers very well might have to have it all planned out from the get-go, and I’d recommend chatting with someone who’s a bit less “coffeeshop AU” and a bit more Agatha Christie for that kind of advice.)

Knowing When to Post

There are people that exist, who have amazing self-control, who can wait until their entire story is written and then release it in sections, at regular intervals, until the story is completed.

I am not one of these people, though I try to be with literally every single fic I’ve ever written.

Personally, I do this until I reach a point where I get stuck and need validation, and then post what I have in a giant chunk and then don’t update it for several months. This is almost universally known as the worst way to write fanfics, both in terms of getting interaction from fans and keeping readers from wanting to kill you, and if you have the ability to write the entire thing and sit on it until it’s ready to be shared, you are a hero.

Alternatively, if you can actually stick to a set schedule of writing it as you go and still update with a new chapter every X days, you are not human and I’m terrified of you, because if you find a way to weaponize this power you will rule the world.

Honestly, a good rule of thumb? Post it when you’re ready for people to read it, whether it’s done or not. Not all works will get done, and it seems mean to deny people the delicious little stub you’ve written even if you’re not going to finish it. When you’re happy with what you have -- or are so tired of looking at it that you need to post it or you’ll throw your computer out the window -- just do it and let out a sigh of relief, then either take a few days before going back to writing or just jump in immediately like a goddamn masochist.

(I have tried to get far enough ahead that I can start posting the already-written stuff on a schedule, figuring by the time I’m caught up I’ll have completed the entire story and won’t have any awkward gaps. Ahahahahahahahahaha that has never once worked.)

If you’re not certain about your writing, get a beta! The fandom is full of talented people who’d be happy to read over your work, and if the person you ask doesn’t have the time or spoons, they probably have a few ideas of other people you could reach out to. You don’t need a beta, but it always makes me feel better to have another set of eyes look over my writing before posting, and my beta always catches things I completely missed. Plus, you get a nice taste of that sweet, sweet validation we all crave.

This . . . is a bad guide. Just in general. The advice is . . . not good, and I think it’s largely useless. But I keep trying to think of useful things to add to it and coming up empty, so I hope something in here helped, and if you’d like to bounce your ideas off of someone, feel free to shoot me a message! Talking ideas over with friends is a great way to flesh them out as well, and I am happy to be anyone’s fandom friend.

#ask forest #forestwriting #legit no one is going to read this and i'm not saying that to judge anyone #in fact i'll lowkey judge you if you DO read all of this because why #Anonymous

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helloann-blog · 5 years ago

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The Birth of Ann pt. 1

Nobody likes Ann. Nobody wants Ann. But when they least expect Ann to show up, she’s there. Tormenting your mind. Telling you no one loves you and you’re a waste of life. Making you worry about everything else. Making your palms clammy and cold, making your heart beat faster than the sound of ice cold water. Ann is vicious. That’s why no one likes Ann. She’ll smother you when you’re down. Throw you into a shallow black hole where you’ll come face to face with your fears. She’ll inject your brain with sadness and darkness. That’s why no one likes Ann.

I was an only child. My mother and father never married. My father cheated on my mother eventually and created his own other little perfect family. Before all of that, everything was perfect. I remember distinctly how almost every weekend both of my parents and I would go to museums, carnivals, circuses, the zoo- we would go catch a movie at the drive-in; even though I remember only going once in my whole 28 years. I enjoyed it of course between the of ages 6-8, I believe. My favorite part about going to the field museum was the Egyptian section. I was fascinated by mummies, oddly for my age, but my favorite part most of all, was my dad and his video camera. Capturing the perfect moments. My facial expressions filled with joy and excitement where ever we went. I loved the zoo, but what child didn’t? Visiting all of the wild animals, watching the gorillas pick their noses. Waiting for the lions to do something exciting rather than being sluggish. My father captured it all on tape. Tape yes, it was in fact the early 90′s. If I had to describe a perfect Saturday in 1997, it would go like this:

Wake up around ten in the morning. Dad is doing yard work, mom is making you a bowl of french toast crunch cereal as you turn on the television. Watching the mischievous bugs bunny as you sit there eating your breakfast. Not worrying about homework. Not having to worry about what bills are coming up next. Just sitting there, laughing at the hysterical loony toons. Waiting for dad to come in and say good morning and to tell you to get ready because today you’re going to the zoo! Yup, it was perfect. Sometimes you wish that you can go back in time to just relive in that moment. Back then we didn’t know how much we would cherish those moments later on in life. We were too busy with our cereal and cartooning.

You’ll always have the good memories with the bad. Being an only child was sometimes hard. Especially when my cousins were not around to play with me, or my dog Petey was sleeping. Mom was busy and dad was working. I didn’t really mind it sometimes since I had my dolls to keep me company. I had dozens of barbie dolls. I would keep myself occupied until I eventually got bored. Sometimes there wasn’t anything good to watch on TV, so I started drawing. Creating my own stories with pictures; I even made little short stories where I would just staple the pages together like a book, and later show my parents. I don’t remember my dad being all that excited every time I shown him a picture that I drew. Unlike my mom, she was always giving me the “wows” and “you’re so talented baby!” I liked that very much. It gave me the urge of wanting to draw even more just to get more attention from my parents and more good criticism of course. I want to say I started drawing at age eight. I was drawing pictures of people and nature more than anything else. Pretty people, and tall trees with fluffy clouds. Sometimes I’d add haunted houses to the drawings, or big colonial mansions.

I don’t think anyone remembers their first day of school. I certainly don’t, but I sure do have a ton of core memories etched in the back of my brain. I was the shy kid, always kept to myself and never wanting to raise my hand. I hated presentations and being in groups. I remember in fourth grade we had to do a presentation about a book we were reading. For the life of me, I can’t remember what it was called. Anyways, we had to get in groups of four or five and we had to act out important scenarios from the book. We had little props that we can use and wear. I remember I had a paper tail clipped behind me and paper ears on top of my head. I was either a wolf or a dog, either way I was playing the bad guy. And all I had to do was say a few lines, growl and leap out onto someone in my group and “attack” them. It was pretty hard for someone who didn’t like standing in front of a whole classroom with eyes all on you. I did mess up the scene of course, and everyone started to laugh at me. I wasn’t sure if I should’ve laughed along and played it off to be funny or kept going, so instead I felt myself getting super red, teary-eyed and before I knew it our scene was over.

to be continued...

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katzuyas · 6 years ago

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as usual, I’m a terrible procrastinator (this time with good reason tho bc I’ve been dying bc of renovations for a good 4 months now jfc) but I found some time to finally do these so here’s the super longass chain of tags I’m very grateful for ❤️ thank you so much to all of you for thinking of me!! ❤️❤️❤️

tagged by @and-then-yoi-happened, @joeys-piano and @gabzjones -- thank you so much guys ❤️

📽 🎞 Post 10 gifs from your favorite movies without naming them and then tag 10 (or so) people. 📽 🎞

I had more trouble with this than I thought I would omg it seems I don’t like all that many movies??? unless we want to count each hp and potc movie separately 😂😂

I’ll be tagging @story-kat, @sweet-vitya, @estellie, @ilarual, and @katsudonski for it, but feel free to ignore me if you don’t want to do it ^u^)b

tagged by @story-kat, thank you for the tag kat!

fall/autumn preferences

rules: bold what you prefer and tag 10 people

1. go apple picking vs go on a hay ride 2. scary vs. sweet 3. sweaters vs. boots 4. socks vs. mittens 5. bonfires vs. football 6. trick-or-treating vs. watch scary movies 9. bake pie vs. bake cookies 10. rain vs. fog 11. black cats vs. owls 12. ghosts vs. wizards 13. harry potter vs. halloweentown 14. go hiking vs. sleep in 15. cinnamon vs. nutmeg 16. reading vs. writing 17. hot chocolate vs. tea 18. live in a cabin in a forest vs. have it be fall 24/7 19. candy apples vs. caramel apples 20. blankets vs. pillows 21. roasted marshmallows vs. roasted chestnuts 22. coffee vs. apple cider 23. red leaves vs. orange leaves 24. braids vs. bows 25. scented candles vs. the smell of fresh baked goods 26. carve pumpkins vs. make pumpkin pie (neither is my thing tbqh) 27. pumpkin spice lattes vs. chai tea lattes 28. coats vs. oversized sweaters 29. beanies vs. berets 30. candy corn vs. peanut butter cups 31. s'mores vs. apple crisp 32. jump in a pile of leaves vs. swing on a tire 33. corn maze vs. haunted house (very much neither) 34. bob for apples vs. visit a pumpkin patch 35. whipped cream on hot chocolate vs. marshmallows on hot chocolate

I haven’t seen this one before so this was fun, thank you!

tagging @and-then-yoi-happened, @inlovewithyoi, @victuuritrash, @atesan, and @phichitschulanont

tagged by @dreaming-fireflies, thank you so much!! ❤️

Rules: answer the questions and tag 15 people you want to know better.

1) Relationship status: dating a really adorable boy ;3c

2) Lipstick or chapstick: chapstick bc lipstick always eats away so ugly and I can’t be bothered to reapply every time I lick my lips

3) three favourite foods: chicken fried rice, pepperoni pizza, pad thai

4) song stuck in your head: thunder and lightning by serayah

5) last movie you watched: jurassic world fallen kingdom

6) top three shows: game of thrones, rein, suits

7) book I am currently reading: nothing bc I’m just stuck to my pc writing all the time ;u;

8) last thing i googled: the link to the song above

9) time: 3:51 PM

10) dream trip: japan *u* but also harry potter studio tour bc first fandom always sticks with you *u*

11) anything you want: to be done with renovations, finally, and to deal with my teaching practice asap so I can go back to writing yrdcyhvgb

I won’t be tagging anyone for this, but it was still fun to do so if anyone wants to as well, feel yourself tagged!

tagged by @louciferish, and twice by @gabzjones omg gabz thank you ilu and I’m sorry I’m such a flake trfxcvujbkn /)u(\

7 Sentences

The rules are as follows: go to page 7 of your WIP, go to the 7th line, share 7 sentences, and tag 7 more writer-bloggers to continue the challenge.

Slowly, as if all his motion settings have been reset, Yuuri turns around. And Victor, the blessed man that he is, gives him a little polite smile that freezes Yuuri's brain and sets his heart on fire all in the span of one second.

Fuck, Yuuri thinks to himself again. Oh fuck.

"Hello," Victor says, a perfect smile on his perfect face that sits on his perfect head on his perfect neck on his perfect shoulders and his perfect chest and his–

"Hi," Phichit replies, a smile on his own face, too. "It's amazing to meet you. We're both big fans, but I guess everyone tells you that."

bc I’ve done nothing but write my victuri bang fic for about a month now, that’s what this is from! look forward to it in october ;3

I’ll tag the writers my mind instantly thought of, so @dreaming-fireflies, @belovedyuuri, @teekettle, @the-world-of-illyas-james, @kazul9, @stammiviktor, and @iwritebetterthanispeak!

tagged by @the-world-of-illyas-james, thank you!!

Ao3 Tag Game

WHAT IS YOUR TOTAL WORD COUNT ON AO3?

920344, which tbh I’m sure will go up after I post this bang fic I’m working on so??? kinda excited to hit 1mil ngl

HOW OFTEN DO YOU WRITE?

I definitely try to write every day but sometimes life gets too busy so I usually keep it to short headcanons and plot bunnies then but I will definitely get at least one to two sentences out there daily ^u^)b

DO YOU HAVE A ROUTINE FOR WRITING?

sure do! I love setting up a scented candle to get the mood going, turn on some music or ambience and pop open an energy drink while I keep some sweets on hand to get my sugar levels up high. it works perfectly for me!

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE KINKS/TROPES/PAIRING?

Kinks: oh boy... I’m very into soft and sensual, but hard voyeuristic frick frack involving fluffy tail buttplugs and pet play? count me tf in ;3c Tropes: soulmates, rivals, enemies to lovers, creature fic, hanahaki, Pairings: victuuri, the one and only 🙏

DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE FIC OF YOURS?

it’s definitely dazzle me with gold! but since it’s my fic with most kudos, I will talk about my second fav here, which is oh ye of so little faith, a miyusawa fic that I wrote for a bang once upon a time and which I put my very heart and soul into, and love to pieces even tho it’s been years

YOUR FIC WITH THE MOST KUDOS?

dazzle me with gold, my magnum opus, which I couldn’t be more proud of bc it’s all I love in a fic: historical setting, drama, werewolves, mystery and so much love it’s sickening ❤️

ANYTHING YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING?

not really? tho recently I hate that I can’t seem to write short things anymore 😂😂😂

NOW SOMETHING YOU DO LIKE (ABOUT YOUR WRITING)?

I think I’m fairly good at grasping the characters I’m writing, and I know for sure that my soft/sweet/floof levels are running VERY high, so I’m definitely proud of that!

I’ll tag @gabzjones, @louciferish, @saniika, @postingpebbles, @muttthecowcatridesagain, @yuliaplisetskaya, and @joeys-piano! 😘

tagged by @teekettle, thank you tati! ❤️

Favorite Character Tag Game

Rules: name your top 10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people.

victor nikiforov

miyuki kazuya

hinata shouyou

aomine daiki

giotto

voldemort

hakuryuu

uzumaki naruto (and his daddy bc I’m baking two pies in one oven and I need my best hubby here FOR REASONS)

portgas d. ace

grimmjow jaggerjack

wow this got me so nostalgic for my lovely boys ❤️ I’m going to send @story-kat, @tetsya, @littorella, @accioharo, and @hentipie down the memory lane next, have fun~ 😘

hooo boy this was a lot to get through but it was fun! thanks again to everyone who tagged me, you guys rock and I’m a dick for procrastinating on this so hard I’m sowwie (╥﹏╥) I’m blessed to have such lovely friends like you, so once again: thank you for remembering about me (≧◡≦) ❤️

#tag game #I am a loser who can't do tags unless I have a whole 20 bookmarks of them and The Guilt kicks in #ryxchujhvbn #thank you for still tagging me tho #you guys are a blessing #❤️❤️❤️

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tumblunni · 7 years ago

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hey guess what I played Don’t Starve again and predictably continued to use only Webber and get fifty bazillion feels about Webber and hey u guys wanna hear me constantly talk about Webber

seriously its SO UNFAIR that this guy just exists as a character skin in some random survival procgen world game and NOBODY GETS ANY DAMN STORY yet they give us really tantalizing one line story summaries and the REALLY ENDEARING thing of each character having different dialogue for item descriptions. Which is also their ONLY GODDAMN DIALOGUE! why why why WHY did you make such a good story charrie concept thinger if you were never gonna use it GAHHHHH

okay so anyway THIS IS HE

WHAT A CUTIE PATOOT AMIRITE YO??

and he has SUCH AN INRIGUING AND SAD AND COOL PREMISE he’s the absolute champion of creepycute, cos he’s not only a spoopy spider monster with the innocence of a child but also literally he was a regular human child once who got the most tragic life ever his super short tantalizingly vague summary is ‘webber the indigestable’, and like.. all we know is that He Very Much Died, and Now He Is Spide he was killed by some spider monsters and came back as this spooky AF form

tho srsly man HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK YO like i’ve seen people drawing super grimdark fanart of him being like springtrap from five nights at freddies, i.e like he opens his mouth and he has a whole dessicated skull inside. like he’s quite literally walking around in the skin of the monster that ate him, however the fuck that’s supposed to work... I really don’t like that version, so WHATEVER lets have A BUNCH OF OTHER BUNNI THEORIES!

* It’s more like the spider absorbed the memories of the kid? Like, his bones are out there somewhere and its just that his conciousness was transferred into the thing that killed him/its got a case of mistaken identity and thinks that its him. * He’s sorta like a ghost that possessed it? Was trying so hard to survive that his soul lingered around, and it just works different to the other ghost character in the roster since he’s possessing a non-human creature. he gets majority control instead of floating around as a support * He’s more like a zombie or demon or general corrupted creature? like, he just rose from the grave and took on this particular shape cos of how he died, rather than this being an actual fusion of him and the spider that killed him. * Its like a werewolf thing??? He wasn’t really killed but just got bit and turned into a thing?? I dunno. * His backstory isn’t meant to be something that happened prior to the start of the game, but you literally see it happening right there. I mean you unlock webber by finding his skull while playing as another character, and if you bury it then it turns into him. So its like he woke up as a zombie cos you gave him a kind burial, but because his remains were intermingled with those of the thing that killed him they got all mixed up and revived as a single creature. And I guess that spider just went off and died offscreen shortly after eating him? or maybe it choked on him, cos seriously an entire human skull sounds hard to swallow XD

anyway HOWEVER THAT WEIRD PREMISE IS SUPPOSED TO WORK, its really intriguing and seems to imply a lot of Deep Traumatic Sads and it sucks that we don’t get a full plot exploring this and I’m just left feeling weird for having tearjerker fanfic ideas for a goddamn minimal dialogue simulation game >_> cos I mean MAN its just so interesting thinking about it from his perspective!! cos webber is just so nice and innocent still!! he barely seems to understand what happened to him, and he’s stuck in a big scary world and like.. the scariest part somehow became the only comfort to him, like DEAR GOD he has so much great characterization from these tiny snippets of dialogue! he just loves the spiders so damn much, he’s like ‘don’t worry i forgive u’ and he’s so happy to make friends with this big ol spoopy forest of monster things that literally killed him. and then all his unique gameplay powers revolve around that, all the spider enemies refuse to attack him ever again and he has supportive abilities to generate new hives and upgrade existing ones and just generally Sweet Doom Boy He Lovv He Friendes and i’m SO EMOTIONALLLL

and its also intriguing how the game handles his status as a fusion creature? he’s got a unique syntax thing of referring to himself as both ‘we’ and ‘me’ at the same time. I just found it quite cool when i figured out that there actually was a consitant set of rules about this! He’s generally ‘we’ but then says ‘me’ whenever something only applies to one half of his memories. Like you’d assume ‘me’ is the boy and ‘him’ is the spider, but webber casually swaps it around all the time and its like its always both of them talking even in this situation. He isn’t really two personalities but just one fused one that can remember being two people, i guess? Its a little confusing to hear him being like ‘i don’t hold a grudge against me for killing me’ but a very unique speaking pattern is an endearing trait for a character!

oh and MAN I WISH THEY FOLLOWED UP ON ANY OF THESE BACKSTORY HINTS!!! cos some of his dialogue references him living on a goat farm with a dad and a grandpa back when he was human? and we have NO IDEA how this completely ordinary adorable kid got teleported to Fuckin Hell World, or whether he’ll ever see his family again T_T Closest thing we get to an idea is him saying ‘we don’t like him, he tricked us’ at a statue of the game’s main villain, even though none of the alternate characters have any story dialogue and we only know that mr default man wilson had a history with the villain. So do all the alternate characters also have a personal grudge with him and we’ve just never been told what happened? Also there’s the fan theory that mr default man is actually webber’s father, and I dunno if thats true but I love seeing fanart of them as adoptive family even if they didnt know each other before they got trapped here.

but also just AAAAA webber’s plot WEBBER’S PLOT seriously its so fucking dark and has so much Potential and just THINK about this poor kid’s perspective on this dark souls shit that happened to him its depressingly realistic that the game adds a kid hero to the mix and then his plot is ‘yeah no a kid would die instantly in this kind of situation, and he did’ I mean there’s one other child character but she had ghost superpowers before the game even started, and her personality is all grim and practical and such. webber acts super young and innocent and was probably the lil teacher’s pet shy cutie type when he was alive. HE HAD ABSOLUTELY NO CHANCE T_T

SO JUST IMAGINE JUST IMAGINE THIS TRAGIC SHIT

you’re tiny tiny baby friend and you fall thru some random portal some day and instead of a magical adventure in a fairytale world you get Grim As Fuck Nintendo Hard Survival Game imagine how terrified he must have been, all huddled up cold and starving under a big leaf like totoro crying for his grandpa to save him and then he gets eaten alive by some other starving creature in this hell world and then he wakes up like ‘wow what a weird dream’ and he has to claw his way out of a grave first ray of sunlight hits his freaky gnarled monster hands and his tiny child brain must be terribly unequipped to handle that kind of revelation... let alone the identity crisis of Yes I Am Part Of The Spider Horde and possibly Wow I Remember Eating My Own Brain

and its just... really oddly sweet and heartwarming that he’s friends with the spiders now?? like that makes me wonder how that played out when he first woke up. Imagine the poor kid seeing a whole bunch of the same thing that killed him and he flinches thinking they’re gonna attack, but then they scuttle up and hug him. And he sees his reflection in a puddle and realizes he’s one of them too, and now he’s not so alone anymore. I mean its not the same as getting his family back, but he has someone protecting him now. Scary things aren’t so scary when you’re scary too! And like.. there’s all different tiers of the spider enemy, and what if the big queen boss one became a mother figure to him? And what if he acts as a translator to them and helps them make friends with humans? And tells them stories about his family and they try and mimic human family things in their own lil spidery way, to make him feel welcome? *wearing tiny ties and hats* ‘We love our strangely shaped child and respect his differences’ I just wanna see slice of life adventures of the spide swarm!!

also AAAA i just thought about what if the game ever got a proper conclusion and webber manages to escape back home it probably wouldn’t be an easy happy ending :( farm grandpa finds some terrifying spider thing haunting his farm, might even freak out and shoot his own grandson T_T or even if he recognised him, the kid’s probably not gonna be able to go back to a normal life. his family would have to try and keep him secret, lest the pitchfork-wielding mobs attack... and even if somehow it was possible for webber to be cured, that’d be sad too cos he’d have to leave all his spider friends forever. and he could never be cured of the mental scars T_T

also yo HAHAHA you wanna know the absolute saddest random item description dialogue I got while playing as him? he asks skeletons ‘are you okay’ and ‘i think he’s sleeping’ because yknow he just woke up the next day, when he died T_________________T

webberrrrrrrrr :(

god i am trapped in a glass case of emotion

#blunni thoughts #HE'S TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD #what the fuck this entire concept is so fucked up and sad #why cant i reach through the screen and hug him #why cant i at least play a game with a detailed story about this thing #why give me a tantalizing premise and then NOTHING ELSE #DOES WEBBER EVER GET BACK HOME GOD DAMN YOU

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reptilerach · 8 years ago

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“Rejection”; Chapter Eighteen

NOTES: Get ready for some feels in this chapter, the longest chapter so far to make up for the god-awful wait. Oh yeah, there’s gonna be a few parts where it says “Ex’s Name”. If you don’t have an ex (which I know some people don’t), just insert any antagonist’s name. This is how you’re reading the story, after all! :)

Click here to see my brand-new AU, and here for a fanart that I made for my good friend @vanessagirl286!

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When Papyrus was finally done ranting about his input within the Royal Guard, he waved farewell to the monster children of Snowdin and met his brother by Grillby’s. You were there too, but you were a good 5 feet away from Sans, plotting your revenge. Your chest glowed a faint yellow, which you knew stood for justice. Oh, that skeleton was gonna pay for dissing you in moment like that.

“OK!! NOW THAT I FINALLY GOT ALL MY FANS OFF MY BOOTS, WHAT SHOULD WE DO FOR DINNER?” Papyrus asked, not minding the fact that you still wore his scarf around your waist. You shrugged, not caring as long as you ate something. “Dinner? What about lunch? Or breakfast!” You moaned, stomach growling at you with such an anger you felt like you were gonna pass out.

Sans didn't give any suggestions; his eyes closed tiredly. “I KNOW!! HOW ABOUT SOME PASTA?!” Papyrus’s eyes bulged, while Sans and you snapped “NO!” at the same exact moment. Paps looked slightly hurt, but just crossed his arms. “YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MUCH SPAGHETTI.” He grumbled, and you replied with your signature catchphrase without thinking.

“Debatable.” You said, putting your hands inside of the big blue coat you were wearing. Sans chuckled, and gave you a pleased look. You grinned, while Papyrus opened up his mind for more suggestions. “WELL THEN WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO EAT, (Nickname)?” Sans stared at your eyes, expecting you to come up with some genius solution.

Rather, you froze and suddenly felt very pressured. “I-I dunno! S-something besides pasta.” Sans clicked his teeth, and rolled his pinpricks. “so picky.” You glared at him, and even dared to flick him on the side of his skull. “ow!” He muttered, rubbing the spot where you had made contact with his head. You stuck out your tongue, and he made a gesture by hooking a finger around his eye socket, similar to pulling it down.

“WHATEVER YOU TWO WANT TO DO, YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. I’M GONNA GO HOME AND PREPARE THE LAST ‘HUMANS VS. MONSTERS’ GAME!” And with that, he marched off proudly to his house at the opposite end of Snowdin. Your stomach barked loudly, and you doubled over from the pain. Sans watched carefully, and sighed.

“c’mon. i’ll take ya to grillby’s.” He said, and walked towards a small tavern not too far away. “Hey! Wait up!” You called after, sprinting next to him. He calmly stepped one foot in front of the next, snow underneath crunching softly. You took a moment to enjoy the quiet and think to myself.

Back there… back in the alley… was that a moment between me and Sans? Or was it really just an accident? I mean, look at me. I’m having a great time outside today, where I’m probably gonna catch a cold, but… Shouldn't I be mourning over my confession to him back in the real world? Your mood instantly dampened; you closed your eyes, reimagining the scene that played out about a week ago. Before you fell into the game of Undertale.

Sans… He was just threatening me yesterday afternoon. And now look at me! I'm already jumping to stupid conclusions. Like, how the fuck you could want to kiss someone when you just met?! You never did believe in true love. Or at least, you used to. Before he played your emotions like a guitar, before he made you fall in love with him only to be rejected coldly. On the inside, your brain was telling you that you were just overreacting and that the “break up” wasn't even as harsh as you think it was.

But you can't just get over someone breaking your heart when you honestly thought that they loved you back. When they text you “I love you, sweetheart” every single night, until… They just stop. It was like what happened to your best friend. He left you all of a sudden, out of jealousy from the relationship that you had with your parents and friends. Boys are assholes… You thought cruelly to yourself, frowning in disgust.

Now look at me. I'm completely dissing the male gender, over a couple of boys who broke my heart. I mean, look at Papyrus! Yes, he's a skeleton, but he's more of a gentleman than those to jerks will ever be! And Sans… Your frown disappeared, replaced by a bashful grin. Your cheeks had faded in color about 10 minutes ago, but here they were turning pink again.

That guy has been through a lot of trauma. Heh, I’m over here in depression from losing of my two best pals. Sans had his entire family, race, and kingdom killed by Chara. No...by me.

Your heart stopped, and you stopped walking. Guilt surged up through your veins, and your eyes widened. Sans stopped as well, gazing at you with surprise. “hm? what's up, (y/n)?” He asked, but you didn't reply.

Flashes of going through the Genocide Route streaked across your vision; the feelings of utter sadness slaughtering the skeleton brothers pulling at your heartstrings. Sans gazed down at your chest, and took a step back. You didn't know what he was seeing, but it must have been your soul.

No...no...NO… How could I ever think Sans would like me?! I...I killed- I KILLED HIM AND PAPYRUS-!! You began to hyperventilate, clutching your skull in your hands.

Sans was frozen with terror. (Y/N)’s soul had began to float out of her chest, and it was a color that Sans never thought he’d live to see. Her soul, like a wormhole in space, was as cold and emotionless as Sans’ current eye sockets.

Her soul was a pitch black.

Sans always thought a black soul meant hatred; but now, he wasn't so sure. What was (Y/N) feeling or thinking about to make her soul turn into this ugly and horrifying hue?! not even chara’s soul was black... Without really thinking it over, Sans rushed next to her and grabbed the sleeves of his blue jacket wrapped around the frigid human’s arms.

“(y/n)?! what the hell’s the matter with you? you’re scaring me! snap out of it!” Sans shook your arms, but you weren’t paying attention. Your lip quivered harshly, and tears formed in my eyes.

You remembered how you murdered Toriel, Undyne, and Asgore. You remembered how you shoved MK off a bridge, to which Undyne dove after and saved him. You remembered the feeling of that cool gun, the warm gloves, and the sharp but-oh-so-natural feeling of the knife in your hands as you slashed Sans straight across the ribs in the Judgement Hall.

You wanted to believe that it was all fake; that it was merely a game where no true emotions would ever haunt you like they currently did. You knew that the only way to end your suffering was to confess your sins to somebody, anybody, that understood you.

And that person was Sans.

But, on the other hand, you could never tell him. He would hate you with all of his being; he’d probably kill you right on the spot.

If Sans ever found out what I did to Papyrus… to all of monsterkind… he would have my head. Literally. You shivered at the thought, while Sans seemed to relax a little. Your soul had started to fade from that hideous black to a pale yellow in fear. Sans studied the color change, and sighed. “are you still cold, bucko? we’re almost at grillb’s. let’s get ya inside.” And with that, he took your arm and lead you to the pub.

Even the touch of his skeletal hand against the blue coat that you were wearing didn’t calm you down enough. You still felt guilt, and hatred towards yourself, but regardless you bit back the tears.

Sans is going to find out at some point…for now, I should make the best out of him not knowing of my previous actions. If he wasn’t already suspicious, then I may as well keep that piece of information to myself. For now. You pondered silently, staring intently into the snow.

After another minute of walking or so, you arrived at the front steps to Grillby’s. By this point you had calmed down somewhat, but the uneasiness lingered. The urge to just get it out already was eating itself out from within your core; you took in a deep breath, and decided that you would tell the skeleton about it after you ate.

Sans smiled lazily, and walked up the short steps. He reached a hand out and opened the door for you, and gesturing inside. “after you.” His inviting, hooded eye sockets made you feel a little better, but not for long. You accepted the kind offer, and walked in. The doorbell chimed from above, slightly startling you. Sans must have noticed, because he snickered and walked past you while saying, “take it easy, kid. no need to be wound up.”

You narrowed your pupils at him, and scoffed. “Was that supposed to be a pun? Because it didn’t make sanse.” He stopped in his tracks, and spun around hesitantly. He glared at you, but smiled anyway. “wow, (nickname). i would’ve said that was a sansational joke, but it was horrible. in fact, it was painful. so painful, that i would ask you to carve me a tombstone and have it say, ‘rib in peace’.”

You opened your mouth to retort an excellent comeback, but none came to mind. Instead, you frowned, and pouted childishly. Sans was grinning, but his permanent smile faltered into one of concern. However, it lasted for only half a second as his laid back demeanor returned and he began walking towards the bar across the room.

You followed him, eyeing some of the monsters in the booths beside you awkwardly. All of them greeted the skeleton as he strolled past, some simply saying hello or addressing him directly. “Heya, Sans!” “How’s, it going, Sans?” “Hey there, Sansy~”

At the last comment, you whipped your head towards the direction from which it came from. It was muttered by none other than the drunk bunny near the front of the restaurant, who of which was now giving the skeleton a foot in front of you a seductive grin.

The vicinity of where she sat reeked of alcohol, causing you to screw up your nose with distaste. Sans nodded his head respectfully to his fans sitting in seats around him, but just merely waved a hand backwards at the animal who had tried flirting with him as soon as he stepped in the building. She sighed heavenly, and fell out of booth as if she had been struck by an arrow from Cupid. You rolled your eyes and whispered “so dramatic,” under your breath.

Sans sat down on a stool at the bar; and you followed suite. Grillby was standing right next to Sans behind the counter, wiping a glass dry that seemed perfectly clean. You were a little stunned by the heat radiating off of the bartender, but nearly died when a loud fart noise sounded from underneath your butt. You shot up from your seat immediately, and fell onto the floor clumsily. Your face turned beet red from embarrassment; when Sans started howling belly laughs.

The entire restaurant was staring, who had been apparently waiting for the skeleton to pull his famous whoopee cushion trick again. When they saw your reaction, everyone whooped like apes (although most creatures at the bar were dogs), and banged fists on their tables. you began laughing too, shaking off your embarrassment and reminding yourself that sometimes you just had to be a good sport and laugh at yourself every once in awhile.

Sans pound his hand on the counter, and Grillby made a noise similar to chuckling. But, in reality, it was only the sound of fire crackling. Sans looked down at the girl on the floor by his feet, seeing her shock and blush from being humiliated. Part of him was scolding his little trick, saying that the girl was just about to cry and now you’ve gone and worsened her mood. This downed him a little, until he saw how she was going along with it and the crowd.

Upon seeing her laugh at herself with that laugh he woke up to this morning, Sans’ soul sighed a wave of relief throughout his body. He didn’t remember the last time he’s had the whole pub join in on him for one of his pranks; his victim laughing at it even more so. Every moment Sans spent with this human, he was growing more and more fond of her. It was actually frightening; but thrilling as well.

You got off the floor, cheers starting to die down. A monster in the back shouted “Encore!” for no reason, but it got you thinking. Sans watched you curiously as you stood up, rather than taking a seat beside him. Impulsively, you grabbed everyone’s attention once more. “Hey, everybody. My name is (Y/N).” Most monsters happily greeted you with a “Hi, (Y/N)!” at the same time. Some just rolled their eyes, and barked (literally), “Are you a human?”

You gulped, but nodded confidently, swallowing down your nerves. “Yes I am. And apparently, a funny one too! Since I fall for pranks easily; am I right?” You shrugged, smiling lazily to the crowd. Most people laughed, except for Sans. He actually looked confused. “What can I say? We are made up of skeletons. And water.” Monsters whistled, and laughed hard.

You took a seat next to Sans, while he had an annoyed look on his face. “did you just call me stupid?” He asked in a monotone voice, making you chuckle. Punching him gently in the shoulder, you reminded yourself of his 1 HP. “Heh, I guess I did; didn’t I?” He groaned, but grinned anyways. “you knew that, and it was intentional.” You looked away, focusing back on the bartender. Sans dropped the bickering, and made a gesture to introduce you, although you already knew who Grillby was.

“(y/n), this is grillb’s. he runs this bar here, and he’s the best cook in all the underground.” Grillby held out his hand, fixing his small glasses. You brought up your own, but recalled how he was made of fire. Recoiling hesitantly, Grillby crackled a soft chuckle. “he don’t bite, (nickname).” You gave Sans a bewildered look. “But he’ll burn me.” You retort, sweating nervously.

Sans grabbed your wrist, and placed your hand into the bartender’s, who was waiting ever so patiently. You yelped, but was surprised when the only thing you felt was a warm surge shiver up your arm. You beamed brightly, and your eyes widened in awe. “Wow! How is he doing that?” You asked Sans, while giving Grillby a strong shake.

His glasses rose up in a manner that you could only guess that meant he was happy to see your fascination. Before Sans could answer, you heard a quiet voice come out of nowhere. “I can control whether or not I burn people. You seem like a good friend of Sans, so of course I wouldn’t hurt you.” You spun your attention back onto the flame man, wondering how he talked if he had no mouth.

“actually, we just met.” Sans snickered, and you agreed. Grillby raised a brow, which was non-existent like Sans’. “But Sans…? You seemed like you’d known each other for years when you walked in.” You laughed nervously, and rubbed your neck. Sans gave you a knowing glance, and covered for you. “well, it happened in the forest. she was coming from the ruins, and hurt herself. so paps and i took her in; fixed her up a bit.”

You smiled at him, glad that he was keeping your little ability a secret. The one where I know everything. If I even have any other “powers”... Grillby nodded approvingly, and set the glass down. He stepped aside, giving you a full view of his alcohol selection. You looked at all the pretty colored liquids, but made no attempt to ask for one. You were only 16, after all. Sans gave you a weird look; but it didn’t last long as he changed his mind to bother Grillby for “the Sans Special”.

You turned to face the skeleton, resting your hands on your lap. Grillby spun around, and began concocting the drink. That was never mentioned in the game. “What's that?” You asked, and Sans’ gazed at you, confused. Then, his face contorted into one of shock. “holy cow. you don’t know something for once in your life?” You rolled your eyes, and raised a hand to your chest accusingly. “No, I don't. I don't understand what you're ‘special’ is, why my soul does what it does, and why you-”

You were cut off from your accusation on his actions back in the alley of the Snowdin Square by the bartender sliding the short stack his beverage. You stared intently, waiting for him to open his mouth to consume the drink. But, like before at dinner the previous night, it just slid through his teeth and invisibly down his throat. He set the glass down, and wiped his mouth with his arm. “you really gotta stop doing that.” He says, smirking at you. You shrugged, and looked away.

“Can't help being curious.” You replied, but he just chuckled back an old saying that made you cringe. “curiosity killed the cat.” “Are you implying something, Sans?” You snickered, and it was his turn to divert his eyes elsewhere. “i’m just saying. no need to be so nosy.” You flinched; your mind lost in thought again. Memories flood your brain of him yelling at you for being too nosy, and how you were such a pest, and-

Sans fumbled with the shot glass in his hand. why is she so curious about how i work as a skeleton? jeez, some things ya just gotta let go- what? Sans drew his attention back to (Y/N), who had that same blank look on her face as before.

when she was thinking hard to herself outside before her soul started to….rot. Sans set the glass down, and swiveled to face her in his chair. He snapped his fingers twice, but she didn't respond.

Concerned, he waved a hand quickly in front of her face. “(y/n)? howza ‘bout you order somethin’?” She blinked, and the warm brown in her eyes returned. He’d never noticed that she had brown eyes before. They were like Toriel’s; but more dazzling in some sort of weird and unknown way. “Hm? Did you say something, Sans?” She asked politely, her entire demeanor changing. He didn't like that; not one bit. He liked it when she was cracking jokes and sharing stories, not being so professional and blank...like they just met or something.

Sans smiled, and offered her anything to eat again. Her stomach growled on cue, very loudly to say the least. Sans chortled, and she grinned with embarrassment. “Yeah, totally. I am starved! Literally!” He called Grillb’s over again, and got her a order of burg and fries. The cook went away to the back of his kitchen, and the skeleton took the opportunity to talk to (Y/N) about her troubles.

“ok, bucko. now tell me what’s been eating at ya all day.” You giggled at his pun, if it was even that; but you sighed sadly soon after. “Alright. Where do I start?” You looked up towards the ceiling, listening to the music from the jukebox not far away. It was playing the song that you'd normally hear whenever you encountered Sans whilst playing Undertale. “how about yesterday? we can start off as to why you were bawling your eyes out. it was tearing me up.” He cringed at his own pun, and you did too.

I guess...I'm gonna finally tell someone about him. Here goes nothing. You took in a deep breath, and rest your arms on the table. “Okay. So, back on the Surface… or, rather, the real world… there was this guy.” You started off uncomfortably, but Sans was still listening. “His name...was (Ex’s name).” Sans snickered, and scrunched up his nasal cavity. “wow, his parents must be proud of their decision.” You glared at him, but he apologized and dropped his grin.

“I...I loved him. With all my heart. We were best friends; we knew practically everything about each other. We always worked together on projects in school, and even had our own little secret hangout times at lunch for a couple of months. We watched movies at those times; bringing snacks in and everything. Like it was a real movie theater.” You talked with your hands, and could feel Sans watching in wonder. It’s an Italian thing.

“During these movies, we… We held hands, we rest our heads on one another. I thought this was a sign that he wanted to date me. Which I was thrilled about, since he was always saying at night that he loved me and that I was his sweetheart.” Sans’ expression remained unfazed, but in his eyes you could see him waiting for a “but”. You groaned, your sadness washing over you like a tidal wave.

“Finally, a few days before I fell into the video game of Undertale, I had the nerve to ask him.” You went silent, but Sans urged you onwards with a roll of his hand. Your eyes widened, and you held your breath. “I was going to ask him to be my boyfriend.” Sans sucked in some air through his teeth, and winced; you kept going. “Let's just say… It didn't go well.”

i knew it… Sans thought angrily, and listened to the end of the poor girl’s story of heartbreak. “He rejected me, full-on; not only refusing, but also pointing out everything he's ever thought bad of me.” (Y/N) began listing off some of the terrible things this “(Ex’s Name)” guy said about her, and the skeleton was appalled. were humans this evil on the surface? in the “real world”? “He said that I was too nosy. That I was always shoving it where it didn't belong. He said that he only called me ‘pretty’ and ‘his sweetheart’ because he felt bad for me.”

“felt bad for you?” Sans repeated, and (Y/N) hung her head solemnly. “Yes. He said that he only watched the movies with me because he knew I had no friends to hang out with at lunch. I don't understand why… I thought… I...I thought he loved me. Like, really did! He would always joke about kissing me, but was it really a joke?” Sans felt awkward all of a sudden, and coughed under his breath to help ease the tension. “have you, uh, ever kissed a guy before?”

(Y/N) didn't look at him, facing the opposite direction in shame. “No.” She simply muttered, and Sans was surprised. In a way, he was also relieved. He didn't know why; it was like a protective shield activated when she started mentioning (Ex’s Name). It made him wanna kick the shit outta the punk. He'd thought that (Y/N) would've done something like kissing already on the Surface, considering the way she was acting back in the alley-

“But it doesn't matter.” Sans snapped out of his stupor, gazing at her softly. Her eyes were filled with a depressing hatred, but to whom he couldn't tell.

“Who cares about kissing? I just wanted someone to fill that hole in my heart….that pit of loneliness. That abyss that was created by no one ever being able to understand me, nor anyone wanting to understand me.” Sans scoot off his seat a little in attempt to get closer to her. “why? you seem like you’re always willing to hear about my personal crap.”

(Y/N) chuckled under her breath, but there was no amusement behind it. “That's just who I am, Sans. People always rely on me to hear their drama, but no one cares about my own. Which is frustrating, since I get emotional over the littlest things. Like...like listening to a sad song, or..” Tears spilled from her eyes, and Sans stood up. He slammed a first down on the bar counter, which stunned her greatly. Sans placed his boney hands on her cheeks, and wiped away the wetness carefully.

“stop it, (y/n). beating yourself up over something stupid that another guy did is bullshit. i can't believe he did that… calling you such disgusting names when you are such a beautiful young lady. but now, we have to move on. you’re here now, in the underground, with friends all around who understand you and are willing to be there for you if you need a shoulder to cry on. you have papyrus, myself, toriel, frisk, and plenty others that i’m sure you already know but haven't formally met yet.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and the tears slowly stopped spilling down her cheeks. Every time a droplet did sneak its way down, Sans would clean it off immediately. He didn't care that he might've totally embarrassed himself by calling her “beautiful”, or that he could be blushing as deeply as his jacket’s cobalt color. The important thing right now was consoling (Y/N); telling her she was safe down in the world of monsters, where human boys and their horrible words would never reach her. Where her mysterious and outstanding soul could shine in front of him. . . where it could belong to him.

“‘sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me…’ that's a phrase i thought you humans lived by up until you told me your story today, (y/n). not only are you learning from your past mistakes of giving trust to the wrong people, but i’m fixing my automatic assumptions about humans too.” Sans smiled sadly, to which (Y/N) gave him a bleary, confused look. He reached across the bar for a napkin, and continued drying off her round face.

“yesterday, i immediately assumed that you were a psychopathic murderer who had the power to destroy everyone’s hopes and dreams within seconds. like frisk, or chara. but now i know that not all humans are like that; because i am getting to know you, (y/n). if anything, this ‘rejection’ has made you stronger; ya know why? because in order to fall into a videogame, i think one’s soul would have to rival the power of a god. normal people don’t just meet talking skeletons and bartenders made of fire everyday, kid.”

Sans chuckled deeply, and finished cleaning the human. She gazed up into his eye sockets with big, brown eyes, and his soul fluttered. they’re gorgeous, he allowed himself to think, without shooting it down out of anger. He could feel the magic pulse within him surging faster every second he wasn't losing himself in speech, which was completely nerve wracking. “so please, don't get upset over that douchebag anymore. we’re all here for you, and he is not. anyone who has ever beaten you up literally and figuratively is gone, and now it's just you and me.”

He risked brushing his left hand off, and taking her hand in his. He squeezed it reassuringly, then let go so it wasn't like he was trying to be suggestive. “‘kay, (y/n)?” Sans smiled broadly, genuinely, and (Y/N) could see that. Her cheeks lit up from joy, and before he knew it, he was tackled back into his seat with a big hug from the human girl that he secretly was admiring more and more every passing minute.

She wrapped her arms around his back, and buried her face into his neck. “Alright, Sans. I got it. Thank you….thank you so much…” She whimpered sadly, but Sans just shushed her and returned the embrace. He brushed some of her hair back comfortingly, playing with its softness without her knowing. He shut his eyes, and rubbed the hand that was placed on her spine soothingly. She sighed contently, and so did Sans. glad that we finally got that awful issue out of the way. it was like (y/n) was hurting physically from her emotional burden.

You pulled away from Sans, and took your seat again. His words were so kind, so encouraging, and so meaningful; in the moment, you felt like your soul had no other choice but to lurch out hug the small skeleton with all you had. You wondered if he’s ever been through heartbreak, or if he's ever been in love at all. In this timeline, at least.

You didn't really know where to pick up the conversation after all that, so you just stayed quiet until Grillby came out with the grub. Thankfully, that was about 10 seconds. The two plates clattered down in front of the two of you, and you dove right in without waiting. As soon as you took a bite of the burg, you swooned. “Oh my God. This….this is freaking amazing. Kudos to you, Grillby.” You always liked telling the chef they did a great job whenever you went out to eat; you thought that it would always make their day a little better.

Grillby nodded, and bowed. The flames on his head almost hit your hair as you were hunched over wolfing down your fries, which should have concerned you more than it actually did. Sans chuckled, glad to see that you weren’t one of those kind of people who would only eat a salad or very little in public around their friends. The truth is, you were, but Sans didn’t make you feel awkward. Or like you should watch your weight. So, you just inhaled the fast food like any normal person would.

Sans began to eat his burger, while you ignored the urge to glance over at him while ate. Skeletons need privacy too. You’d cleaned your plate in three minutes flat; you thanked the bartender when he came back with a toothpick. He placed the dish down in a sink below him, immediately starting to scrub off any remains of the ketchup you’d had on your burger. Unpacking the stick from the package, you pulled it out and poked at your teeth.

Sans finished his food rather quickly too, and burped obnoxiously. You sent him a questioning glare, and he responded with a casual “‘cuse me.” You smiled at his manners, and got out from your seat. “Hey, mind if I take a look through the jukebox?” You asked him, and he waved a skeletal hand in the air dismissively. “‘course not. have fun.” You left, and strolled over to the brightly lit music player.

FIRST

Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are)

Chapter Twenty (Links for Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links for Chapters 21 --> 29)

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aaliyahhill · 4 years ago

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