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#this is the friskyed thing i've ever posted..

imajinxnation · 7 days

Text

Sentimentality

Keanuverse x Reader

SUMMARY // Terms of endearment from the Keanuverse.

TW // Fluff, Suggestive..

Just doing some John's for this one cause I can only have 10 gifs per post😒

I've been absent for a bit, but I'm getting back in my groove!!

Once more, please excuse me if the Russian ones are a bit off, I don't speak Russian!!

\\~John Wick~//

ангел - Angel

He calls you 'angel' in Russian almost all day every day, because he TRULY believes that you were an angel sent from heaven to help and fix him. He believes God sent his most lovely angel to care for him in the form of you, and he thanks him every day for the blessing that is you.

солнышко - Sunshine

You're his sunshine, the light in the darkness that has consumed him for so long. Just being in your presence gives him energy and peace of mind. It's cheesy, but it's how he sees you. You give him life like the sun does to everything on earth, but he knows not to mess with you when you're feeling particularily hot(headed).

зайка - Bunny

We all know why he calls you this.. This nickname is saved for when you're feeling particularily frisky, which, I won't lie, is pretty often. He calls you bunny due to both of your tendencies to fuck like rabbits, like.. It's insane how often you're going at it. At LEAST once a day. He just can't keep his hands off you, and vice versa.

\\~John Constantine~//

- Pet

Oh my God, don't get me started. He rarely ever calls you anything else other than this, even over your own damn name. He only uses this name for you, and nothing else, the only time he doesn't is when he is worried or is extremely setious about something, then he just uses your first name. He also uses this term during sex and it just sets you off in all the right ways. Though, it can get annoying sometimes because he does treat you like his pet a bit more than a partner.

\\~Johnny Silverhand~//

- Cunt/Dick

If you thought he was gonna be anything but vulgar, then what the fuck is wrong with you? This man will use insults as terms of endearment, you will never hear a sweet nickname come from him (not at loud at least). He calls you cunt/dick the most, cause he likes to act like he's annoyed at you 24/7.

- FuckFace

He says this a lot when he's frustrated with you or he's trying to explain something and you're just not getting it. He also says that's the only thing your face is good for, to fuck. And then after he says that, he tries to fuck like it didn't hurt your feelings. Your man is an ass naturally, so if you're sensitive.. best to not be with him.

- Slut

He uses this one when you fuck, or if he gets insecure and thinks you're hitting on someone else. Which happens a lot, cause he knows he's an ass, and he knows you're probably gonna leave him, and he fucking panics in the worst way.

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hyperesthesias · 9 months

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Can you actually write something smutty for Viktor? Or just a guide on how to? I really want to write some Viktor smut, but I'm worried I won't do his disability justice as I'm able bodied and a dumbass

Of my twelve years on this webbed site, this has got to be the best ask I have ever received lmao

I would be happy to help, friend. I'll answer this in two parts.

Yes, I am planning on writing Viktor smut for Viktor x Anya. I had a lot happen in the year since I made the post you're referencing, but I've finally been able to get back into fandom stuff. I wanted to lay some backstory with them first though, as I am apparently a PWP kind of person lmao. It's coming soon! (No pun intended).

You've taken the first great step in recognizing that your experience and knowledge may not be congruent with potential portrayal, and therefore asking for advice. I don't mean to sound patronizing at all. I am an author and I have seen many professional authors that don't do this, so you're already ahead of the game! I wouldn't consider that dumbassery in any way, shape, or form.

I'll put the rest under a cut due to the nature of this post.

*Disclaimer to this is, of course, I don't speak for every disabled person, this list isn't extensive, and these are my opinions.

I, personally, operate under the assumption that Viktor has Post Polio Syndrome. Looking at photographs (x, x, x) it's pretty clear the animators used PPS as a framework for Viktor's movements and posture, as well as his mobility and assistive devices. People with PPS often develop need for braces, canes or crutches, and treatment for scoliosis -- all of which Viktor has. You are more than welcome to headcanon something different, as I don't believe the writers or animators have ever confirmed or denied PPS, but based on my own experience and research, I would bet money on it.

That being said -- regardless of PPS, or otherwise -- the first thing to consider when writing smut for any disabled character is fatigue. It may not be the obvious thing, as mobility devices often are the first thing to catch an observer's eye. But there is so much that goes on beneath mobility devices. Fatigue is a big one.

Consider the worst flu you've ever had -- all the time, every day, even in your sleep. It can be maddening, like you can't get any relief -- even if you take pain reliever or use other analgesics. Most people with a severe flu aren't exactly in the mood to be frisky, especially spontaneously. Many physically disabled people rely on preplanning. Having a date night where they can plan for extra pain reliever, or where they can schedule the rest of their day or week to conserve energy for a special night. The psychological energy that people need to conserve alone can take a lot of effort. Being disabled is also mentally exhausting, especially when you have a partner and their needs to consider. Giving a disabled person time to prepare for sex (or other tasks) is essential.

Related to that, is the fact the energy levels aren't always consistent. A disabled person and their lover could be going at it like rabbits for a while and then suddenly the disabled partner may need to stop because their "battery" (their physical energy levels) has run out. They may need a break for a few minutes, or they may just need to end the sexual encounter altogether.

The worst thing you (or your character) could do is take this personally. It has nothing to do with their partner, it's their body that is (frustratingly [on many levels]) not cooperating.

Something to toy with (no pun intended) when writing characters with energy level deficits is vibrators. Twice the work with half the effort. Don't be afraid to write smut with toys and vibrators -- it doesn't even have to be kinky. Toys and vibrators are normal and vanilla, all things considered. The only reason they haven't been normalized is because of patriarchal standards as to what sex is and is supposed to be.

The second thing to consider is physical limitations of positions and potential discomfort. I've seen several fanfic writers describe situations and positions that Viktor simply would never be able to do (e.g. lifting his partner onto a table or desk).

Viktor doesn't have a lot of strength. That's not to say he can't be rough or that all smut has to be vanilla. But realistically, it's absurd to think that he can lift someone else or manhandle them with any force, or thrust at the speed of light (💀). He also doesn't have any balance whatsoever post Act I. During Act I, he's able to hobble somewhat without his cane, as long as he has something to hold onto, as seen in episode three. But in Acts II and III, his balance issues combined with scoliosis would make any positions where he has to stand much more difficult.

Therefore, if you're wanting to write a scene somewhere outside of a bedroom (e.g. the lab, his office, etc.), he'd need something to balance himself. Seated sex is a great concept to play with -- very disability friendly and offers many options for all sorts of scenes. Desk/table sex is also realistic, as long as your character lifts themself onto the desk or table, and he's able to lean on it.

Scenes that take place in the bedroom also have their own limitations. He has zero use of his right leg, which means he'd need more time to get in and out of different positions. Missionary would take a toll on his back, I'd imagine, from being hunched over -- not that he couldn't do it at all, but that was more of a sidenote. Having your character straddle him, while his back was supported, is probably the most comfortable position I can imagine. Or spooning. Or maybe doggy, though I think his back and hips might get tired. But I'm just spit balling at this point. Utilizing objects from the setting is important -- pillows, having your character bent over the back of a couch, etc. This is where creativity comes in -- it's just important to keep in mind where his limitations are located on his body: his back and his leg/hip.

There are also adaptive devices for sex and disabilities.

One final thing I want to say is: don't overcorrect. This is common. It's one thing to keep a character's disability in mind, but it's another to make a disability the entire character. Just because Viktor is disabled doesn't mean he can't have the filthiest, most disgusting, raw, life changing, I-should-visit-a-confessional type of sex. However you headcanon him to be in bed is exactly how he can be. If you see him as a cruel Dom, he absolutely can slap the shit out of whoever has the pleasure of being beneath him, while he makes them beg for his mercy -- with his back and leg supported. If you see him as a bratty sub, he can be that, too -- while he lies there with a back pillow to relieve pressure off his spine. If he's the plainest, blander-than-vanilla type of lover, that's exactly what he is -- while he takes a few extra minutes to move from one position to the next. If he's any combination of those things, more power to you.

The point of writing a scene, is the point you're trying to make. Meaning: a lot of writers worry about conveying ideas and settings perfectly and with detail, while losing sight of the main point of their story. Rarely will you ever have to add paragraphs to a piece of writing in order to convey something, especially if it's not the main point. Often, it only takes one or two sentences. Keep the main point of the scene in mind. If you're writing a fic where Viktor and your character are secretly getting it on in the lab, then the point and the idea of that scene is the forbidden sex they are having. Not necessarily his limitations. You can easily acknowledge Viktor's disability by saying something like: 'Viktor sat on a chair at the far end of the lab, away from the door's line of sight. He leaned his back against the seat, allowing his spine to settle, before he coaxed his lover onto his lap. His lover straddled his legs, reaching to kiss his neck, while his hand trailed up their thighs...' You've successfully conveyed the limitations he has in two sentences, while maintaining the focus of your scene, and without reducing Viktor to a caricature of his disability. Less is more throughout your fic.

As a side note, which is completely my headcanon -- and something I've vaguely alluded to in my Viktor x Anya fics -- is that Viktor also has erectile dysfunction as a result of the PPS. Polio is a neurological virus, meaning is attacks the nerve cells, the main cause of the atrophy in PPS. It isn't common, but it's not uncommon for males with PPS to struggle with ED. As such, in my own personal stories, I have mentioned that Viktor takes medication to help with it. Sildenafil (the generic for Viagra) is a medication that specifically targets nerves.

That's my own person interpretation, though, and has no bearing on what we seen in Arcane lol.

To close this off for now, I want to reassure you that your efforts count and they matter. No one will write any depiction of disability 'perfectly'. Disability is unique to every person, and one person's spinal disability will look different to another's. Even people with the exact same diagnosis and prognosis will differ in how they experience it. You're not a dumbass. You're very intelligent to recognize the need for external resources. Enjoy yourself, enjoy the work you write, and keep asking questions.

If and when you decide to write your Viktor smut piece, I would love to read it. And likewise, if you'd like to read what I write I'd be happy to send it to you! If you're comfortable coming off anon, you can message me privately and we can talk more!

#viktor #viktor arcane #arcane #netflix arcane #viktor smut #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor x you #arcane smut #disability #disability advocacy #disability awareness #viktor the machine herald #viktor fanfic #viktor fic

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not-goldy · 1 month

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The solos in your ask pretending they know what jikookers think and OF COURSE victimising their fav in the process. Never forget to victimise, otherwise you're not a true solo.

Meanwhile, actual jikookers : love the both of them equally, love that they love each other, will keep loving them even if it turns out they were just the greatest of friends who enjoyed giving each other blueballs, love Jimin's songs, love Jungkook's half naked welives, love Jimin’s cutest welives making legos, love Jungkook's songs, love love love.

I don't know about every other jikooker but you've summed up me and the jikookers who hang around my blog succinctly.

Which reminds me, someone brought up Larry and Louis complaining about how he can't break free from the rumors-

I don't expect Jikook- either of Jikook to ever come out and disrespect their bond minimize invalidate it like many fake ships do post the band phase era. Especially the ones who deliberately feed into those shipping narratives for clout.

Jikook's relationship is not founded on two people playing naughty just for shock factor. And if you've been in various shipping spaces for as long as I have you tend to pick up on these things very fast.

Performative bisexuality is real

Queer baiting is real

But some people just wanna be brazen for no reason at all.

And when you have that lens you quickly can tell which moments of Jikook is just that- two naughty boys who have no qualms feeling frisky with eachother or playing up that friskiness for the cameras.

We know all that. We see all that- but we also see beyond that, we see the thing that explains the subtext, and explains choices they make to the point we can even predict those choices before they make them and 9 out of 10 we'd be right.

Yet these people are consistently wrong about jikook. Tuktukkers are consistently wrong bout their ship because they can't tell what's real from what is a performance.

I'm gonna make one such prediction and yall mark my words:

Neither Jimin nor Jungkook will EVER deny their bond EVER.

FOR THE SIMPLE REASON ITS NOT FAKE

They will ALWAYS CHERISH their bond and speak fondly of what they share between them, honor it always in spite of whatever labels fans want to place on it.

They both mean something to eachother

THAT IS NOT FOR THE BENEFIT OF FANS

And I think what keeps them going is this baseline.

I can see them reminding themselves of this over and over that they hold on to that baseline whatever anyone says.

I think this is my second long term prediction I've made about two bts ships. Vmin and jikook.

In whatever years yall find me and remind me I told yall so.

Love is energy.

It cannot be created or destroyed but it can change form.

If a person can come out and say all these things that other ships come out to say about their ships when their ships no longer serve them, without acknowledging appreciating their actual bond then the bond was not there or strong to begin with

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bonefall · 1 year

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Thoughts on the warrior cats ultimate guide? I love that book, I'd read it to my little brother a lot for fun and we would look at the cute cat pictures. It is canon for Rock to tell stories to dead kits... interesting?

I'm very favorable to most of the field guides, with Code of the Clans being my favorite. It's been my favorite since I was young, honestly, it was a very formative book for me growing up.

The Ultimate Guide actually came out during the time I wasn't reading Warrior Cats, after OotS made me ragequit as a kid by 'killing' off Hollyleaf and replacing her with Dovepaw (I love dove now though I got better).

I've never had the desire to pick it up though, it just sort of seems like retellings of stuff we already knew, mostly inspired by Cats of the Clans instead of the other field guides... which...

If you're thinking of the framing device of Rock and the kits, you're probably thinking of Cats of the Clans! I wish I had nicer things to say about it, Anon, because... I'm so sorry, I think it's by far the worst field guide in terms of original content.

I love that framing device where Rock is telling stories to kittens (and I plan to keep it for my rewrite in a very "I HATE CHILDREN HOW DO I MAKE YOU ALL LEAVE ME ALONE" way), but this book also did these other things,

"ThunderClan is the best and most noble Clan of all and they never attack unjustified and they love the warrior code more than you but hey I don't take sides."

"Also ShadowClan is literally evil. Be quiet Blossomkit this is only your first microaggression. This is not taking a side btw"

"The Tribe has such stupid names and they're so useless, anyway I'm a neutral observer"

"StarClan didn't mean for Cinderpelt to get hurt :( and she proved herself worthy of a second life by uhhh not letting her brother's children get eaten"

Rock ships Bramblesquirrel "He's the only one who can match her fire not contain it" cringe post from hairless rat

"Ashfur only ever tried to protect Squilf and was very loyal when he tried to kill his ex's three children. I'm still a neutral observer btw and not a writer self-insert."

I've actually like, always hated this one particular line in Brightheart's segment where Rock says that kits "shriek" when they see her face. Like... what the actual fuck. No, if a major member of your community has a big scar, in a society where big scars HAPPEN A LOT, it's normal to that child.

This entire part is like "Brightheart's life sucks so bad because shes so ugly, and people scream and wail and piss when she walks by, and she can't look at her face in the water without wanting to cry. Cloudtail understands though because his mom eats friskies. This is comparable."

Formative experience little Bones sitting there reading this like, "Brightheart's beautiful and super super cool. this is fucked up"

Aaaaaand lastly this is THE book where we get the Nightcloud Slander.

"Nightcloud should stop being such a bitch because she's the only one of Crowfeather's mates lucky enough to live with him"

"And also she's jealous and arrogant for... reasons"

"And she's overprotective of Breezepelt for Reasons"

Remember kits; if you're a male warrior, you're Protective and Ambitious. If you're a female warrior, you're Jealous and Arrogant.

Also Heatherpaw was selfish for meeting Lionpaw in the tunnels somehow because????? Rock Is A Neutral Observer, Remember

In a nutshell, this book makes Rock suck and was basically full of the rancid takes you see in a bad website article. It's got everything you hate to see in WC.

In any case though, god, you can't knock the old Wayne art. It's always an absolute delight.

#Warrior Cats Analysis #Cats of the Clans

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takerfoxx · 7 months

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Seeing as you mentioned your thoughts on polyshipping and the Israfel Special (it can't happen in canon, but with the slightest tweaks it would be very beneficial to all three of them and work quite well), any thoughts in that direction in the fun world of Madoka? Homura is, of course, going to be the tricky part, but if Rebellion implies her true happy fantasy has all of them around she's probably not as hard as she might seem.

You know, there's a real funny story about that, which I'll get to in a second.

Anyway, like the Israfel Special, I don't think it would work out in canon, but for opposite reasons. I think that circumstances and compatible personalities would actually make a Shinji x Rei x Asuka poly relationship work, but their respective issues would ultimately doom it. For the megucas, while they don't have the same incredibly specific trauma-related issues that would sabotage such a relationship (with one major exception), I just don't see them being the sort to go for something like that. That being said, there is good evidence supporting every individual pairing, so mixing them all together is certainly intriguing.

Like, I think out of all of them, Kyoko would be the one that probably the most down to give it a try. Sayaka would probably be very freaked out by the idea (Wait, you can do that? But why would you do that?), but might come around. Madoka is a toss-up on whether she would be intimidated by the idea or just sort of easily slide into it without even noticing, and Mami would probably run herself ragged trying to make herself available to everyone.

Homura, of course, is the biggest obstacle, ESPECIALLY if it's late-game Homura. Moemura has a better chance of giving it a try, but late-game Homura's self-loathing practically causes her to self-sabotage anything that makes her happy. And she's so focused on Madoka and has several timeloops of bad experiences with the others that I really don't see it working.

Honestly, the best possible chance for Poly Magi is if the other four are already in some kind of poly relationship that early-game Moemura is brought into. I do recall one incredibly lewd but also pretty adorable fic that had that premise.

Anyway, the reason I found this question hilarious is, well, I kind have been working on a story off-and-on for years with more-or-less that general idea. You weren't here for this, but a few years, when I started to experiment with sexual content, I mentioned that I have a few spicy side-projects that I work on whenever I get writer's block on my main stories to practice, as sex has always been something I've found kind of uncomfortable (aromantic, intimacy-avoidant, that sort of thing).

And one of them is a Poly Magi story, where the basic premise is that Homura finds herself in a timeline where none of the usual tragedies are happening (Nagisa never contracts, Yuma is saved from her parents, Mami surives, Kyoko comes back early, Sayaka and Madoka both make early contracts and they all form a team, etc.), which motivates her to give telling everyone everything a shot. Then Hitomi finds out about everything and makes a contract as well, they all beat Walpurgisnacht, split off into three couples, only to discover that in the battle their souls got linked and things get increasingly frisky.

Anyway, I go back and forth on whether I'll ever get around to posting or even finishing it, as it's in several incomplete pieces, but maybe one day.

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turanga4 · 2 months

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🎱🔪🐇

Ominous AND cute. Love love, thanks thanks!

Ask game here.

🎱 woah never looked at those before.

Holy holy shit shit shit there are like DOZENS of people who actually subscribe to my silly lil one-shots?

Also it will never not be weird and hilarious to me that the one milkshake which seems, without fail, to bring the boys to the yard is my Snape POV piece that I've never actually promoted, upon which no one ever comments. Yeah yeah the Devil's Sacrament, all of us have been there.

🔪 weirdest topic answered already sorry @btelling i killed your fictitious son for real that time.

🐇 do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? that's an interesting question that i don't think i understand--i'm assuming it's not just a y/n gets frisky sort of thing? and i don't do o/cs, really--there's just no point in making a fully original character for the kind of one-shots i enjoy writing (exception here cuz i needed a squib kid for Harry to relate to). there's an excellent lil tumblr post making the rounds these days about how everything one writes has elements of self, and i endorse that. none of my characters are me exactly, but all of them, in some way, reflect bits of who I am and what I find important.

#fan fiction community #ask game #thanks thanks!

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theunderbuddies · 1 year

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Do you ever put your name on the waistband of your briefs?

For me, it's not a normal practice, but I definitely have. Growing up, my dad wrote them in my tighty whities only because it would be easier to sort his tighty whities and mine in the wash. Possibly so I didn't get them mixed up with any of my friends tighty whities if they spent the night or something. But because he did this, in early high school, I would write my name on the waistband of my underwear after I started buying them for myself because I thought that is just what you do. It wasn't until I was around 16 or so did I realize that wasn't common at all!

For a short while, I would write my name on some underwear when I knew it was going to be taken off and seen lying casually around, like a locker room, or a sports type thing. When I was feeling super frisky, I would even put my number in them and would purposely leave them around (locker rooms, changing rooms, pools, wooded locations, etc) seeing if anyone would call me about them. But we are talking very few, maybe 10 pair of the 2500 I own. Some one did call me once! ...but it was my friend, who then made fun of me, but he knew my obsession and what I was doing so it was playful. Basically, I tried to do a BEST version of the "golden ticket" from Willy Wonka!

By the way, I've been getting some amazing questions and suggestions from all of you. Please keep them coming! I will eventually compile what everyone has been saying and then post everything I have been responding with. This is fun!

#~ the 'right' guy ~

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jmbringitonworld · 2 years

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The Otherworldly Visitors

AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there, or who prefer to read the multi-chaptered version of this fic.

I've actually been working on this fic for a while, and have already uploaded it to AO3 in multiple chapters, but now that the main story is finished, I'm posting it to Tumblr in one big chunk.

The idea for this fic came to me totally out of the blue, and I started writing it with no concrete plan, just some basic ideas and a vibe, so I think it came out pretty well, all things considered. It's outrageously self-indulgent, and is, in all honesty, the literary equivalent of comfort food. I wrote this for me, because my last, massive fic left me more than a little burnt out, and I'm still not fully recovered.

The AU the fic is set in is, fundamentally, classic Undertale, with a few notable differences. I've left hints here and there, but I won't fully explain this universe. Not because I want to be coy and mysterious, but because it's a bit… complicated. Truthfully, I hadn't expected to ever write about this world, and fully expected this AU to only exist inside my head, showing only a brief glimpse of it at the end of my larger fic/series, "The Lost Child". But here we are.

Something I feel I should mention here are my personal headcanons for Sanses and Papyruses, because this affects how I write and characterise them:

I hc that 'wanting to be popular, while almost no one likes you' is a Papyrus trait. I also hc that 'wanting to protect everyone, while almost everyone underestimates you' is a Sans trait. They're both consummate liars, though (yes, even Papyrus constantly lies to everyone throughout the game). Obviously, they can grow out of these traits after the True End (or similarly life-altering events).

Elys and Arno belong to @shayromi

Calibri is my own brain child

________________________________________________

Baby Calibri was being fussier than usual that morning, which was always a bad sign. Something had clearly upset his tiny babybone, and Sans knew that it would somehow end up affecting him and his family. Time shenanigans always did.

Gently rocking his whimpering daughter in one arm, he held his phone in his other hand, just staring at it with furrowed brows. He was sorely tempted to call Frisk and ask her if she could find out what was going on, but his wife was currently out shopping for groceries. They’d run out of ketchup, among other things. On the one hand, Sans really wanted to know what was wrong with the time-space continuum this time , but on the other... ketchup .

While Sans was pondering his dilemma, the matter was decided for him, when his phone started ringing.

To the skeleton monster’s credit, he didn’t startle, ever mindful of the fragile baby in his arms. Instead, he rushed to answer his phone, all while rocking a now crying Calibri a little more insistently.

“hullo?”

“SANS,” came a deep, slightly distorted voice, which Sans instantly recognised as his father’s, Dr. Wing Dings Gaster. The younger monster withheld a sigh. If his father was calling him, that meant that he must’ve been the cause of the temporal disturbance. Yet another bad sign. “THERE HAS BEEN A... COMPLICATION. WITH THE LATEST EXPERIMENT.”

Unable to hold back another sigh, Sans exhaled a tired breath, feeling an ache begin to build behind his eye sockets.

“urgh, shoulda guessed this was your doing,” he muttered under his breath, before raising his voice. “look, dadster, whatever you’ve done has got the babybone kickin’ up one heckuva fuss. an’ frisky’s outta the house at the moment. so i can’t come over to the lab right now, to help ya.”

“NO NEED,” the joint Monster Royal Scientist replied. “WE SHALL COME TO YOU.”

We? Sans thought. But before he had the chance to voice his confusion, his father hung up. Giving his phone a dirty look, Sans grumbled to himself. He then shoved the phone back into his pocket, and turned his attention to his still-crying daughter.

With tender hands, he brought Calibri to his sternum, close to his Soul, and started circulating his magic throughout his body, all while murmuring gentle reassurances to her. Within a minute or so, the soothing pulses of her father’s familiar magic, coupled with his loving voice, had succeeded in calming the baby down, and, with a yawn, the young hybrid drifted off to sleep in Sans’s arms.

Unfortunately, the skeleton monster enjoyed only a few seconds of blissful silence, before his peace and quiet were interrupted by a knock on his front door. Exhaling another sigh, Sans teleported to the nursery, where he tucked his youngest child into her cot, handing her a soft, well-worn turtle plushie, which Calibri reflexively clung onto. That done, he blipped back to the front door, and swung it open to reveal an unexpected sight.

Three skeleton monsters were stood outside, one slightly shorter than Sans, and the other two much taller.

The tallest was Dr. W.D. Gaster, clad in his customary black trousers, cream turtleneck jumper, and long, black overcoat. The genius scientist was standing straight, his arms folded behind his back, affecting a cool, collected disposition, but Sans knew him well enough to see how hard his father was trying, to not look guilty.

The shortest of the bunch was near identical in appearance to Sans himself, save for his outfit, consisting of blue and white armour, blue gloves, and a blue bandana, to match his bright, blue eyelights. His bones were rattling slightly, as his big, starry eyelights flitted all across his surroundings, returning to the cloudless, blue sky above, every few seconds. His mouth was stretched in the widest smile Sans had ever seen, almost splitting the other monster’s skull in two.

The third skeleton could’ve been Papyrus’s clone, were it not for his slouched posture, orange hoodie, and cargo shorts. It was more than a little disconcerting for Sans to see someone so similar to his brother, appear so unconfident, and awkward. The way the taller skeleton was hunching in on himself, hands shoved into his pockets, made something clench in Sans’s Soul. But the way the other monster’s gaze kept drifting to the sun, shining high in the sky, undeniable wonder creeping onto his face, soothed some of that ache.

Sans had never met the two strangers flanking his father, but he’d heard enough about the Multiverse and its various Alternate Universes from his wife, to be able to hazard a guess as to who they were. He cast his eyelights from Blue’s excited, curious gaze, to the way Stretch eyed his surroundings with carefully concealed caution, clearly out of his element despite his affected nonchalance, before finally resting them on his father’s sheepish smile.

Sans gave the other scientist a flat look, to which Dr. Gaster responded by widening his smile, beseechingly. He sighed for the umpteenth time that day.

“... i’ll go put the kettle on.”

~~~

When all four of them were sat in the living room, each with a steaming cup of golden flower tea in hand, the eldest Gaster launched into his explanation.

“THIS LATEST EXPERIMENT WAS SHOWING PROMISING RESULTS. VERY PROMISING. ALL THE READINGS WERE POSITIVE. THERE WERE NO PROBLEMS WITH THE CODE. THE VORTEX WAS STABLE. BUT THEN THE TEMPORAL ENERGY STARTED FLUCTUATING WILDLY. WE COULDN’T CONTROL THE MACHINE. IT EXPLODED.” A sigh, long and heavy. “AGAIN...”

Sans inclined his head towards the other two skeletons, gazing around the room with wide eye sockets.

“an’ that’s when these two appeared, i take it?”

Gaster nodded, taking a sip of his tea. His son eyed him speculatively.

“i’m guessing you want us to look after ‘em, while you fix the machine. again.” Despite the wording, his tone implied that this was a statement, rather than a question.

Gaster nodded again, studiously avoiding his son’s gaze, and sipping his tea a little louder. Sans dragged a hand down his face, before massaging his temporal bone.

“fine... guess i got no choice,” he conceded reluctantly. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “frisk should be back soon. i’ll let her know what’s goin’ on, but knowing her, she’s probably already aware of this latest snafu.”

Blue’s eyelights shot towards him at the human’s name.

“FRISK? LIKE THE LATE PRINCESS?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Sans’s smile was complicated.

“kinda... ‘cept in this universe, frisky ain’t no monster princess.” Then his smile softened, a loving look entering his fuzzy eyelights. “but that don’t make her any less special to me. she’s still the most amazing person i know, and i’m so lucky to call her my wife.”

“YOUR WIFE?!?!” Blue shouted, leaping up from his seat, his empty tea cup falling to the floor.

Beside him, his younger brother spluttered into his own cup, thankfully avoiding spilling hot tea all over himself.

“yo-you’re married?!” Stretch choked out, setting his cup aside, tone as shocked as his expression.

Sans grinned at the both of them, a proud look on his skull. He lifted up his left hand, showing off the gold wedding band glinting on the proximal phalanx of his ring finger.

“heh heh, yup. time’s a little messed up in our universe, but frisky and i’ve definitely been married for over a decade now. or what passes for a decade here, anyway.”

Blue’s face lit up, his eyelights becoming star-shaped, as he gazed at his alternate self in amazement.

“WOWZERS!!!” he exclaimed, awe colouring his voice. He clenched his gloved fists, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “THERE’S ANOTHER ME! WHO’S MARRIED!! TO THE PRINCESS!! THAT’S SO COOL!!!”

Stretch didn’t seem to share his older brother’s enthusiasm, however.

“your, uh, wife... isn’t she a... human?” he guessed, different emotions flashing across his face.

Sans gave him an unconcerned look, shrugging his shoulders with his usual casualness.

“yup,” he admitted, popping the ‘p’. “so what? she freed us monsters, and we live on the surface now, alongside the humans. as you guys must’ve seen an’ been told. there’s peace between our two races now, and more an’ more interspecies couples are formin’ every day.”

Stretch’s expression was still dubious, as if not quite daring to believe that such an incredible future was possible. Blue, however, looked even more excited than he did before.

“YOUR WIFE FREED MONSTERS?! WOWZERS!!”

Sans smirked, filled with pride for his wife. But then Blue froze, his smile slipping, as the excitement drained from his face. His bony brows came together in a worried frown.

“BUT WAIT... IF FRISK IS THE ONE WHO FREED MONSTERS... AND OUR PRINCESS IS ALREADY DEAD...” He wrung his hands, anxiety showing clear across his skull. “THEN WHO’S GOING TO FREE US ??”

Sans waved off his concerns, smiling at his otherworldly counterpart in reassurance.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, pal. you guys have another human who’s meant to free you, if all goes well.”

Blue looked at him hopefully.

“R-REALLY? WHO??”

Sans barely held back a wince. His smile became forced, as he answered Blue.

“er, that’s a... well, um, ya better ask my wife, when she comes home. she’ll be able to answer your question much better than i can.”

Blue blinked at him, before nodding his skull, mouth turned down in a pout.

“OKAY...” he agreed, though his disappointment was obvious.

Stretch narrowed his eye sockets, slanting a suspicious look Sans’s way, but the older skeleton was saved from any further enquiries by the loud wailing of a baby.

Everyone in the room startled at the noise, except for Sans, who merely looked resigned. The father of three had long grown accustomed to the sound of a squalling infant.

Dr. Gaster shot to his feet, draining his cup in one go, before placing it on the nearby table.

“WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME! I HAVE TO GO NOW! I HAVE A MACHINE TO FIX! SKELETONS TO SEND HOME! LOTS TO DO, YOU KNOW!? GOODBYE SON!! AND GOOD LUCK!!”

And with that, he dashed out the door, without looking back.

“you just don’t wanna be roped into anymore babysittin’ duties, old man!” Sans yelled after him, his mouth curled in a wry grin. Emptying his own cup of tea, he stood up and placed it beside his father’s. He then turned towards his ‘guests’, who were frozen in their chairs, looking stunned, and shot them a wink. “you guys stay here. i’ll go settle the babybone down, and bring her to meet you.”

Without waiting for a reply, not that either monster was capable of giving one in their current state, Sans exited the room through one of its several doors.

The sound of the door closing seemed to finally snap the displaced skeleton brothers out of their stupor. They stared at the door, then at each other, their eye sockets as wide as they could get. Blue mouthed the word ‘babybone’ to his brother, and Stretch could only give him a dumbstruck look in response.

After several moments, the crying eventually died down. All eye sockets shot towards the door Sans had departed from, when the handle turned.

It was to total silence, that Sans entered the living room, cradling his youngest child in his arms. His tender gaze lifted up from his precious baby, and towards the other skeleton monsters, his broad smile conveying how much he cherished his daughter.

With slow, steady steps, he made his way towards the others, taking in their amazed expressions with amusement. When he was in front of them, he tilted his arms just enough for them to be able to clearly see the human-looking baby sniffling in his hold, waving her tiny fists in the air, her chubby cheeks flushed.

“this cute, little babybone is calibri. my daughter,” he announced, pride and infinite love leaking into his voice.

The other two stared at the baby, rendered utterly speechless by awe, for several seconds, before Blue finally managed to find his voice.

“YOUR... DAUGHTER...?” he almost-whispered, tone hushed. His voice was still louder than was generally acceptable indoors, though, and Calibri scrunched up her face at the sound, but didn’t react otherwise, too used to her uncle’s own high-volume voice to be overly bothered by Blue’s. “YOU HAVE A... A CHILD ??”

Sans’s grin widened.

“i’ve got three, actually.”

Both Blue and Stretch looked as if a gentle breeze could knock them over at that revelation.

“THREE!?!?!”/”three!?” they both exclaimed at the same time.

Calibri started fussing again, the shouting too much for her sensitive ears to bear, and her father hastened to soothe her with gentle rocking motions, and soft pulses from his Soul.

“yep. three kids,” Sans explained, snickering at the brothers’ stunned expressions. “there’s elys, my eldest girl, arno, my son, and calibri, the babybone of the family. you guys’ll meet the other two later, when they get back from school.”

The Underswap brothers still appeared a little shell-shocked. Neither skeleton could take their eyelights off of the tiny, fleshy baby, squirming in Sans’s arms.

Slowly, Blue’s expression shifted, something soft, and gentle settling on his face, as he felt his Soul squeeze at the sight of the child. Indescribable warmth flowed through his bones, emanating from his thrumming Soul, filling him with an emotion he hadn’t felt since his brother was a babybone himself. To think that, in another world, another him had been blessed with his own family – a wife, and tiny babybones of his own, to love and protect.

Sans noticed his alternate self’s obvious fascination with his daughter, and, with a smile, he stepped forward, holding Calibri out towards the other monster.

“wanna hold her?” he offered, motioning towards the baby in his arms.

Blue looked up with a start, his eye sockets widening.

“C-CAN I?!” he asked, his hands clenching and unclenching, already lifting up to receive the baby.

Sans chuckled at the other’s eagerness.

“sure can, buddy. here, lemme show ya how to hold her.”

Blue listened attentively to Sans’s instructions, which were mostly the same as the ones he’d received from his parents, when Stretch was born. It seemed that hybrid, as well as human, babies weren’t all that different from monster babies.

When Calibri was securely within Blue’s hold, Sans took his arms away, hovering nearby just in case. Even Stretch had inched closer to them, peering down at the infant with undisguised curiosity and interest.

The shorter skeleton gazed down at the baby in his arms, marvelling at how warm and soft she was, so different from his and his brother’s cooler, firmer bones. Her little chest kept rising and falling with each breath she took, and her hands never stayed still for long, always moving, reaching out and retracting, tiny fingers curling and uncurling.

She was adorable.

And wonderful.

Truly worthy of being called magnificent, in Blue’s not-so-humble opinion.

Unfortunately, Calibri didn’t seem as taken with Blue as he was with her.

The young hybrid’s forehead was wrinkled, her large, golden eyes turning blue, and her lips pursing, as she looked up at the otherworldly visitor with clear unease and uncertainty. In the blink of an eye, Calibri shifted into her monster form, instinctively mimicking the weird stranger holding her.

Both Blue and Stretch gave a start, caught off guard by this sudden, and wholly unexpected, transformation. Sans chuckled at their reaction.

“heh, sorry. shoulda mentioned that was gonna happen at some point,” he apologised, somewhat insincerely, as he shrugged his shoulders at them. “hybrids can switch between their human forms and their monster forms at will. babybone here does it a bit more often than most, though.”

Eye sockets still crinkled with mirth, Sans reached a skeletal finger to poke his daughter’s cheekbone. Despite being made of bone now, the pudgy cheek still gave way under the adult’s light prodding, though not as much as when it was squishy flesh.

Blue stared at the baby skeleton he now held in his arms with amazement.

“WOWZERS! THAT’S SO COOL!” he gushed, his starry eyelights twinkling in their sockets. “I NOTICED THAT HER EYELIGHTS ALSO CHANGED COLOUR.”

He threw Sans a questioning look, to which the other monster nodded his skull.

“yeah, that happens a lot with this one, too,” he admitted, easing back into a relaxed stance, though he kept his hands free just in case he needed them. “elys and arno’s eyes usually stay the same colour, unless they’re using magic, but cali’s eye colour matches whichever colour of her magic is flowing most strongly through her Soul at the time. and that depends on what emotions she’s feelin’ strongest. frisky calls ‘em her ‘mood eyes’, heh.”

Blue nodded his understanding, before voicing another question.

“HER EYELIGHTS TURNED BLUE. LIKE MINE! DOES THAT MEAN SHE’S HAPPY RIGHT NOW?!”

Sans’s smile became strained. He lifted an arm to rub at the back of his skull, averting his own eyelights from Blue’s hopeful gaze.

“er... not... exactly,” he murmured, causing Blue’s face to fall. Raising his voice, Sans tried to sound a little more positive. “but hey! she’s just not used to you yet! you may look like me, but she can sense that we’re not the same, and she doesn’t like bein’ around strangers. but in time, i’m sure she’ll grow to like ya.”

Blue perked up considerably at that. Drawing himself up, he set his face in a determined expression.

“THAT’S RIGHT! THE MAGNIFICENT SANS IS INCREDIBLY LIKEABLE! I JUST NEED TO SHOW TINY CALIBRI HOW COOL I REALLY AM, AND WE’LL BE GREAT FRIENDS IN NO TIME! MWEH HEH HEH!!”

Calibri seemed to disagree. Not taking her cyan eyelights off of Blue, she scrunched up her face in displeasure, not at all liking the loud noises coming from the imposter father who held her. But beyond making a face, and whining slightly, she didn’t react further, to her real father’s great relief.

Stretch smiled softly at his brother, raising a hand to pat him on the shoulder, being very careful not to put too much force into the action, and jolt him while he was carrying a fragile babybone.

“of course you will, bro. how could anyone not see how cool you are? i know you two will be the best of pals before ya know it.”

Blue beamed at him, his cheekbones turning a light blue at his younger brother’s confidence in him. Then, a thoughtful expression came onto his face, as he gazed between Stretch and Calibri. Appearing to reach a decision, he turned towards Sans.

“CAN PAPY HOLD BABY CALIBRI NOW? PLEASE?? PRETTY PLEASE!?” he pleaded.

Stretch looked taken aback. Sans gave the taller skeleton a considering look, before shrugging.

“yeah, sure, why not?” he agreed easily.

Blue cheered, turning to his brother with a big smile, which Stretch struggled to return, looking more than a little nervous.

As slowly and carefully as he could, Blue deposited a cranky-looking Calibri into Stretch’s slightly trembling arms. The taller skeleton monster tried his best to follow the instructions Sans had given Blue, but he seemed very unsure of himself. He couldn’t help but worry that he was going to mess this up somehow.

His fears were proven justified when, as soon as Calibri’s full weight was resting in Stretch’s arms, a loud ‘COOOOOOOO’ erupted from within the sleeve of his hoodie.

The sound startled the baby skeleton so badly, she instantly burst into tears, shrieking at the top of her magical lungs.

Stretch shot Sans a desperate, horrified look, while Blue panicked none too quietly beside him. Sans couldn’t quite manage to stifle his laughter at the situation, though he still rushed to take his distraught daughter back into his arms.

“i’m sorry! i’m so sorry !!” Stretch cried out, looking on the verge of tears himself, as he retrieved a rubber chicken from his hoodie. “i completely forgot that was there! i didn’t mean to prank your kid! i swear!!”

Sans hugged his daughter close to his Soul, rubbing her back, and circulating his magic through his bones once more. His Soul instinctively began humming, pulsing, reaching out towards his daughter’s own tiny, fluttering Soul, embracing it in his magic.

“pfft, don’t, heh, don’t worry ‘bout it. haha!” He barely managed to get the words out, while fighting back sniggers. “it happens, i- * snrk * i get it. the old rubber chicken’s a classic! heheheh... hey, when cali’s older, i’m sure she’ll learn to appreciate a good prank, too.”

Stretch didn’t look reassured in the slightest. His whole body slumped, his skull bowed low, looking utterly dejected. Blue tried to comfort his younger brother, patting his back, and shouting encouragements to him, yelling to be heard over the sound of Calibri’s wails, however all his efforts to make Stretch feel better were in vain. The taller skeleton was inconsolable.

Sans’s attempts to calm his daughter down proved more fruitful, though. Within minutes, Calibri’s cries abated, becoming unhappy little whimpering noises, until finally, she fell asleep, tired out from all of her bawling.

Sans breathed a huge sigh of relief. Crisis successfully dealt with. Frisk would be proud.

Right on cue, as if summoned by his thoughts, the front door’s lock clicked.

All heads currently awake whipped towards the door, through which a human woman entered, carrying several grocery bags in her hands. Sans’s face lit up. With quick steps, he strode towards her, the two of them leaning in for a kiss when he reached the woman, both remaining mindful of the baby dozing away in Sans’s arms.

“welcome home, babe,” he whispered against her lips, his eyelights growing fuzzy around the edges.

“Thanks, love,” she answered back, just as softly, her eyes lidding.

Breaking apart, Sans turned to face the other two skeleton monsters, who were gaping at the couple’s open display of affection. He then motioned towards the woman with a tilt of his skull.

“i’d like to introduce you two to frisk. my lovely wife.”

Frisk nodded her head to her guests, greeting them with a bright smile.

“Hi! It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Blue took in her dazzling smile, her silky-looking brown hair, her pretty, light blue dress with purple flowers, and her warm gaze, her eyes the same vibrant gold as her daughter’s.

There was only one thought going through his mind right then.

“WOWZERS...”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sans left the room to go tuck Calibri back in her cot, after which he joined his wife in the kitchen, to help her to put away all of her purchases. When that was done, the couple returned to the living room, both carrying bowls full of nice cream, to share with their temporary guests/housemates.

“Sorry I took so long, dear,” Frisk apologised to Sans, as the two of them snuggled together on the couch. The human leaned into her husband’s side, while he slung an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in closer. “I had to grab a few extra things. Like the nice cream for everyone!” Then she turned her head towards Blue. “And I got you that cereal you like. You know, the one shaped like little stars?”

Blue looked up from his bowl of blueberry-flavoured nice cream, multicoloured sprinkles sticking to his teeth and all around his mouth. His face, and eyelights, lit up.

“OH WOWZERS! THAT ONE’S MY FAVOURITE!! HOW DID YOU KNOW??”

Frisk merely graced him with an enigmatic smile.

“I have my ways.”

Blue stared at her in admiration, his eyelights morphing into stars.

“OOOOO... SO MYSTERIOUS...!” he gushed, voice filled with awe.

Frisk giggled into her hand in response.

When Sans squeezed her shoulder, she turned her attention back to him, and fed him a spoonful of her own chocolate nice cream. His bowl was, somehow, already almost empty. All that remained were traces of ketchup.

Stretch, meanwhile, barely touched his own bowl of nice cream, the flavour of which was lost underneath the heaping helping of honey drizzled on top of it. The lanky skeleton monster was staring into his bowl, a sullen look on his face, only occasionally bringing a spoonful of the frozen desert to his mouth, clearly lost in unpleasant thoughts. Blue kept shooting him worried glances, but it was Frisk who spoke up first.

“Papyrus.” She gave him a kind smile when he dragged his attention away from his musings, and on to her. “Please don’t feel bad about what happened with Calibri. You have plenty of time to make it up to her. I’m certain your friendly Intent will be able to reach her, and she’ll warm up to you.” When Stretch appeared unconvinced, Frisk’s smile softened. “Besides, you still have the chance to make a good first impression on my other children.”

“as well as on my bro’s kids,” Sans added with a wink.

Blue gaped at him, his spoon tumbling from his hand and landing on the floor with a wet splat.

“EHHH!?!? YOUR PAPY HAS KIDS TOO?!?!?!”

Stretch looked even more blindsided by this revelation than his brother.

“this world’s me has- has kids ?” His voice was barely audible, weak and frail as it was with disbelief.

Sans chuckled at their reaction.

“yep. two – a boy, corbel, an’ a little girl, cambria,” he informed them, the warmth in his voice and smile making it obvious how deeply he cared about his niece and nephew.

“They’re away with their parents at the moment, visiting Pap’s in-laws,” Frisk piped up, scooping up another spoonful of nice cream. “But they’ll be back in a couple of days. I’m sure all of them will be delighted to meet you both.”

She raised her spoon to her mouth, but just before she could taste it, Sans beat her to it, darting forward and devouring her chocolate nice cream in one bite. The human woman scowled at her husband in mock anger, although she was unable to prevent the corners of her lips from twitching upwards. Sans winked at her, a shameless grin on his face, before he leaned toward her, simultaneously pulling her closer, and sealed her lips in a kiss, which Frisk readily returned.

Blue’s skull lit up in a bright, cyan blush at witnessing their display, and he brought his hands up to cover his eye sockets. Nevertheless, he kept peeking at the amorous couple through the gaps in his phalanges. Stretch, on the other hand, was staring vacantly into space, his bowl of honey-coated nice cream threatening to fall from his numb hands at any moment.

Upon noticing this, Blue left his seat to go to his younger brother’s side, relieving Stretch of his forgotten bowl, and setting it safely aside. With that out of the way, Blue laid a hand on Stretch’s shoulder, giving it a light shake. Blinking owlishly, with a dazed expression on his face, the taller skeleton finally took notice of his brother. Blue frowned at him, his eyelights glowing dully with concern.

“ARE YOU OKAY, PAPY? YOU SEEM A LITTLE... OUT OF IT.”

Automatically, Stretch forced a smile onto his face.

“nah, i’m fine, bro, no need to worry about me,” he tried to reassure his brother, but Blue only frowned harder at him, clearly not believing his words and unwilling to let the matter drop. Stretch wilted slightly at the look. He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding his older brother’s reproving gaze. “it’s really nothin’... ‘s just... the me of this world... he has kids... and a wife! what if... well what if i mess up again and they hate me?”

“PAPYRUS...” Blue squeezed his younger brother’s shoulder, his face softening with worry. But before he could reassure him, Stretch rushed to continue, his worries spilling out of him like water from a broken dam.

“i already made the other you’s babybone cry! what if the same thing happens with the other me’s kids?” His hands clenched in the fabric of his shorts. “what if i’m not as likeable as this other me? we’re in an alternate universe, where everyone’s personalities are swapped. we’ve seen other dadster, other alphys, and other you... that means that other me’s gonna be cool like you, sans. he’s probably really popular like you. everyone here must love him. no wonder his wife fell in love with him.” He bowed his skull low, his voice lowering to a whisper. “what if she doesn’t like me? what if... what if, in our universe... mine doesn’t like me?”

Blue didn’t hesitate for a second to reject his brother’s pessimistic words.

“THAT’LL NEVER HAPPEN!!” he asserted, tone unyielding, eyelights ablaze with conviction. He grasped Stretch’s shoulders firmly with both hands and fixed him with his intense gaze. “YOU MIGHT NOT BE AS COOL AS ME, AND YOUR FRIEND QUANTITY MIGHT BE A BIT... STAGNANT... BUT YOU’RE STILL MY BROTHER!! AND AS THE BROTHER OF THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, YOU HAVE THE POTENTIAL TO BE (ALMOST) AS MAGNIFICENT AS ME! AND I WILL, OF COURSE, HELP YOU REACH THAT POTENTIAL! WE JUST NEED TO WORK ON YOUR LAZINESS AND YOUR LAME PRANKS, AND THEN YOU’LL BE BATHING IN A SHOWER OF KISSES BEFORE YOU KNOW IT! MWEH HEH HEH!!”

Moved beyond words, Stretch could only stare at his brother’s confident grin, eye sockets glittering with light, tears beginning to form at the corners. His Soul was fairly buzzing in his rib cage. He truly had the coolest big bro ever.

Blue’s gaze softened, his near-death grip on his brother relaxing into a comforting hold.

“BESIDES... YOU’RE MY BABY BROTHER. NO MATTER WHAT, I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU! AND I’LL ALWAYS DO EVERYTHING I CAN TO ENSURE YOUR HAPPINESS. I’LL PROTECT YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS WITH ALL MY SOUL. AND I’LL MAKE SURE YOU’RE NEVER BONE -LY! MWEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!”

Stretch chuckled helplessly along with his brother. If anyone were to ask, he’d say that the tears streaming down his face were from laughing so hard at his brother’s amazing pun.

Across from the skeleton brothers, Sans and Frisk joined in the laughter. They were both relieved that Blue had been able to soothe Stretch’s anxiety. It had been painful for the both of them, Sans especially, to see an alternate version of Papyrus be so visibly overcome by fear and insecurity.

While their own Papyrus was no stranger to such emotions, he was able to hide them just as skilfully as his brother did. A fact which had worried Frisk immensely in the past. Thankfully, both skeleton brothers had moved past such unhealthy coping mechanisms, and were now able to be honest with both each other, and with the rest of their loved ones.

But it seemed that Stretch had yet to reach that point. Nor had he yet mastered his ability to conceal his pain behind a mask. It made Sans wonder just when in the timeline the Underswap pair were from. Certainly much earlier than any of his and his wife’s other unexpected ‘visitors’.

Regardless, the added stress of being trapped, along with his beloved older brother, in an alternate universe, one so different from his own, had clearly only exacerbated Stretch’s worries. Sans vowed to keep a close eye socket on this alternate Papyrus. No matter the universe, he would always look out for his baby bro.

Once everyone had settled down, Frisk cleared her throat, her demeanour becoming serious, as she addressed the Swap brothers.

“I assume Wings has already told you both about the Multiverse and Alternate Universes?”

The two skeletons nodded.

“YEAH. A BIT.” Blue tugged on his bandana, his earlier confidence abandoning him. His smile seemed a little forced. “I DIDN’T QUITE GET EVERYTHING HE SAID, THOUGH... IT-... IT ALL SOUNDS A BIT COMPLICATED, TO BE HONEST. AND INCREDIBLE. IT’S HARD TO WRAP MY SKULL AROUND THERE BEING A NEAR INFINITE NUMBER OF UNIVERSES... SOME COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM ANYTHING I COULD EVER IMAGINE...”

“yeah... it’s a little... overwhelming to think about,” Stretch added in a small voice.

Frisk’s gaze was sympathetic as she regarded the two of them.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. And I know how difficult it is to be stuck in a universe so alien from your own, with no idea when you’ll be able to return home.” She gave them a warm smile. “But you have each other. And you have us. And I promise you two that my family and I will do all we can to make your stay here as comfortable as possible. So please relax, and enjoy your time here, on the Surface, while you can.” She winked at them. “You two will be back home where you belong before you know it.”

Blue and Stretch smiled gratefully at her, the former with a light dusting of blue spreading across his cheekbones.

“THANK YOU, PRINCESS!!” Blue tugged bashfully at his bandana, feeling his Soul flutter at the kindness in the woman’s smile.

“wait.” Stretch frowned. “it sounds like... you’re speaking from personal experience.”

He quirked a browbone at Frisk, gaze probing. Her answering smile was unreadable.

“Back to the matter of Alternate Universes, or AUs as they’re more commonly called,” she continued, effectively dodging Stretch’s unspoken question. “I want you both to know that there are just as many possibilities for how your lives may go, as there are AUs in the Multiverse. Just because something happens in one AU, doesn’t mean it’ll happen in another.”

Stretch sat up straight in his chair when Frisk turned to fix him with a meaningful stare.

“You are not bound by the choices of this universe’s Papyrus. You’re free to make your own choices. Your future isn’t yet decided, and your fate isn’t set in stone. So don’t feel like you have to follow the same path my own Papyrus took. You have options. Including in the domain of love. You don't have to fall in love with the alternate version of my Pap’s wife. Who knows? You may well end up falling for someone else entirely. It all depends on you .”

“that’s right, other pap,” Sans chimed in. His gaze was uncharacteristically serious, his eyelights oddly sharp and intense. “Don’t forget, your choices really do matter.”

Stretch gulped, the weight of their words sinking in, even as another weight lifted off of him. He nodded, then turned away, becoming lost in thought.

Frisk turned towards Blue.

“The same goes for you. You don’t necessarily have to love the Frisk of your world.”

However, despite her reassuring tone, Blue frowned at her.

“BUT WHAT IF... I WANT TO?” he asked, a stubborn edge to his voice. There was no hint of a smile on his face, as he gazed directly into Frisk’s molten gold eyes. “THE MOMENT I LAID EYELIGHTS ON YOU, I FELT A... CONNECTION . A SPARK IN MY SOUL. LIKE... YOU’RE IMPORTANT TO ME. IN A WAY I CAN’T DESCRIBE. I’VE NEVER FELT ANYTHING LIKE IT BEFORE. BUT I WANT TO FEEL MORE OF IT. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT MEANS. I WANT TO EXPLORE THAT FEELING. WITH MY OWN FRISK.”

Then his face fell, his shoulders slumping, sadness written all across his features.

“BUT I CAN’T... MY FRISK IS ALREADY... GONE. I’LL NEVER GET TO KNOW HER. I’LL NEVER GET THE CHANCE TO... TO LOVE HER.”

A beat passed, before Frisk spoke up.

“Not necessarily,” she refuted, tone a little cautious.

Blue’s skull shot up, to stare at her with wide eye sockets.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN??” he pushed, taking an unconscious step forward, hope and hesitation warring across his face.

“If a human is determined enough, their spirit can linger in the realm of the living, even after death,” she explained, her demeanour calm in the face of Blue’s rising excitement. “It would then be possible, if difficult, to construct a suitable vessel to house this lingering spirit, so that the human can, essentially, be resurrected.”

“RE-REALLY?!?!” Blue’s face radiated hope, his whole form nearly vibrating with excitement.

Instead of replying, Frisk tugged at the gold chain around her neck, lifting it up to reveal a gold pocket watch attached to it, which had previously been hidden underneath her dress. Blue squinted at the watch. He could just about make out its metal cover, elaborately decorated with very intricate designs, or perhaps a script written in an unknown language.

While gazing intently at the watch, and without opening it, Frisk once more addressed Blue.

“If you truly wish to pursue this path, then you should speak to your universe’s Undyne,” she advised him. “She’ll be able to help you in this matter.”

Blue beamed at her.

“I WILL!! I PROMISE I’LL DO THAT AS SOON AS WE GET BACK!!” he vowed fiercely. “THANK YOU, FRISK!!”

Frisk smiled at him, tucking the pocket watch back beneath her dress, hiding it from view once again. Stretch, having pulled himself out of his pondering at some point, eyed the action with no small amount of curiosity.

“heya, frisk? what’s up with the watch?”

The human laid a hand on her chest, above where the item in question rested.

“It’s a fob watch, more or less. My mother made it for me, based on the one my father owns. It’s very special to me, so I keep it with me at all times.”

Stretch didn’t seem fully satisfied with her answer, but recognised that the woman wasn’t going to elaborate any further. Blue, however, looked intrigued.

“YOUR MOTHER MADE IT? DO YOU MEAN QUEEN TORIEL??”

Surprise flashed across Frisk’s face, before she burst into laughter. Her husband joined in with his own chuckles. Trying to supress her giggles, Frisk wiped away the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Oh no, no.” She shook her head, her shoulders still lightly shaking with mirth. “I know she acts motherly all the time, but Tori isn’t my mother, she’s just a friend! I was talking about my real mother.” Her laughter subsided, as she folded her hands on her lap. “In this universe, the Monster King and Queen adopted a human named Chara. They’re the human who’s swapped roles with me in your universe. They’re the one who will be your final fallen human.”

Stretch’s gaze sharpened with keen interest at this revelation, while Blue’s eye sockets widened, as he digested this new information. Blue whispered the unfamiliar name to himself under his breath, trying to memorise it, to prepare himself for when he met the human who would one day (hopefully) free him and all monsters, back in his own AU.

Stretch leaned forward in his chair, back hunched and arms resting atop his knees.

“so, uh. what happened to the chara of this universe? if you don’t mind my askin’.”

Sans stilled, his arm tightening around his wife, phalanges digging lightly into the soft flesh of her side. Beside him, Frisk gave Stretch a brittle smile, a sorrowful glint in her eyes.

“She finally found her peace, and chose to let go of this world, entrusting it to me.” Her voice was soft, a gentle melancholy bleeding into it, before her tone became firmer. “But though my Chara may be gone forever, her hopes and dreams live on in me.”

Silence fell upon the room, as Sans held his wife, the both of them oddly solemn, each for their own reasons. The Underswap brothers hesitated over what to say, both feeling awkward in the wake of their host’s sombre words. It was Frisk who eventually broke the silence, shattering the heavy atmosphere.

“Sansy.” She patted her husband’s hand where it rested on her waist. “It’s time to pick up the kids from school.”

Sans spared the clock on the wall a brief glance, before standing up, his hands lingering around his wife for as long as possible.

“huh, so it is.” He leaned down to place a quick peck to his wife’s lips, before backing away. “be back in a sec, babe.”

The skeleton monster then departed the room using one of his shortcuts.

Blue gaped at the clock, shock etched all across his skull.

“WHAT?!?! HOW IS IT THIS LATE ALREADY?? IT HASN’T BEEN THAT LONG HAS IT??”

Stretch had a shrewd look on his face, eye sockets narrowed.

“i’ve noticed that your clock’s been acting weird all this time. the hands keep movin’ at different speeds, sometimes even jumping backwards and forwards, seemingly at random.” He levelled a considering look Frisk’s way. “your, uh, husband said that time in this universe is messed up.”

Frisk nodded her head, before looking away, her gaze distant. She absentmindedly played with the chain around her neck.

“Time doesn’t flow the way it’s supposed to, here,” she murmured. Then, she heaved a deep sigh. “That’s my fault. I made a... rash decision, a long time ago. I tried to fix my mistake as best as I could, but there were some... consequences... unintentional side-effects I could not erase.” The smile she offered the brothers was more a grimace than anything else. “It’s complicated.”

Before either skeleton monster could comment, the front door slammed open, startling the two of them. Their skulls whipped around, just in time to spot two young, seemingly human, children dash into the room. The children made a beeline for the transdimensional travellers, Sans trailing along at a leisurely pace behind them. They both came barrelling to a halt right in front of the Swap brothers, the smaller one almost crashing into the taller one, who caught him just in time.

Blue and Stretch blinked in shock at the new arrivals.

The taller one was a girl of perhaps around eight to nine years old, if Stretch were to guess from his limited knowledge of humans. Her hair was white as bone, her eyes the same light blue as his brother’s eyelights, and her smile was identical to this AU’s Sans’s lazy grin, although the mischief in her eyes gave it a sly, playful edge. The girl snickered at the two brothers.

“It’s so cool that we have new visitors! Heheheh, this is gonna be so fun!”

The smaller kid nodded enthusiastically to the girl’s words. His age was even harder to estimate, given Stretch's lack of information on human children that young. At best, the lanky skeleton assumed the boy to be around four years old, give or take a year. Like the other kid, this one also sported bone-white hair and sky-blue eyes, although the latter were often deeply squinted, like Frisk’s tended to be. Also unlike the other child, this one’s smile was pure and innocent. It reminded Stretch of his brother’s smile, especially when they were babybones.

“Uh-huh! So fun!” the younger child echoed the girl’s words, clapping his hands, his red scarf fluttering behind him.

Sans came up behind the children, placing one hand each on both tiny heads, ruffling their white hair.

“now, now, kiddos, take it easy on the new guys. they’ve only just got here.” He winked at them, his grin widening. “you don’t wanna wear them down to the bone , do ya?”

The two kids giggled at his terrible pun. Blue gaped at the group, aghast, and utterly speechless. Stretch couldn’t help but snicker to himself, though mostly at the appalled expression on his brother’s face.

“Don’t worry Papa.” The girl grinned up at Sans, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I can feel it in my bones .”

Cue more laughter from the trio. Blue looked, if possible, even more horrified at the child’s pun. Stretch would’ve been tempted to comfort his brother, if he weren’t bent over with laughter.

When Frisk stepped forward, the children rushed to her side, throwing their arms around her as she bent down to receive their hugs. They mumbled something too muffled to make out, and in response, Frisk pressed a kiss to both of their heads.

“Welcome home, my darlings,” she whispered softly to them, before standing up, keeping her arms around them.

“Other Sans, Other Papyrus,” she nodded to the Underswap brothers, her smile bright and full of love for the children by her side, as Sans came to stand next to her. “I’d like you two to meet our daughter, Elys.” The girl waved at them. “And our son, Arno.” A wave from the boy this time.

Stretch let out a breathless “nyeh”, looking more than a little dazed. His gaze kept going from one child to the other, eye sockets comically wide.

Blue, meanwhile, had recovered from his horror at the truly awful wordplay he’d unwillingly borne witness to, and was once again filled with excitement and wonder. His Soul was thrumming, his bones almost rattling, as his starry eyelights roved over the children, noting each and every similarity they bore to both their parents, and (to his great amazement) to himself.

Just as with their mother, the only thought going through Blue’s mind while looking at his alternate self’s children, was-

“WOWZERS!!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With the introductions out of the way, the two children immediately swarmed their otherworldly guests, babbling excitedly to each other.

“Woah, Arno look at his outfit!”

“He has armour! Like Uncle Pap!”

“And look at his bandana! It’s so cool!”

“Yeah! It’s so puffy! It looks like bunny ears!”

“Heheh! You’re right Bro, it does!”

Blue tugged self-consciously at his bandana, flattening the ends to look slightly less rabbit-like, while the kids turned their attention to the other skeleton. Stretch froze, eye sockets wide, like a deer in headlights, as the two hybrids began poking and prodding at his clothes.

“Pfft, his hoodie is the same colour as a carrot.”

“It smells really sweet, Sis.”

“Must be from the honey he spilled on it. Ew, sticky, heheh!”

Elys poked at a fresh honey stain, giggling as the sugary substance threatened to glue her fingers together.

Stretch felt like dusting, as a mortified orange blush crept onto his skull. He wished he’d washed his clothes earlier, like his brother constantly nagged him to. He gave a start as the children started digging through his pockets, pulling out his many, many, many joke props.

“Woah! There’s so many , Sis!”

“I know! And there doesn’t seem to be any end to them, either! Are his pockets bottomless?!”

“Endless pockets! Like Papa’s! Hee hee!”

“Hey Bro, think we’re gonna find a quantum physics book in here too?”

“Oooh! Maybe! Let’s look!”

And the two of them all but dived into Stretch’s pockets, shoving their arms in elbow deep.

That was the last straw – Stretch couldn’t bear their rough treatment any longer. Not only was his embarrassment reaching boiling point, but their little hands were digging into his bones and he was feeling uncomfortably ticklish. Any more and he wouldn't be able to contain his laughter. And he absolutely did not want anyone knowing where his weak spots were. He had a strong suspicion these kids wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of that knowledge. It’s what he would do.

“let’s not!” he objected, taking hold of their searching hands and pulling them out of his pockets. “please don’t manhandle the skeleton!”

The two children whined in disappointment, but didn’t otherwise refuse him or protest, and backed away from Stretch obligingly. At the kids’ easy compliance, Stretch breathed a sigh of relief, and bent down to retrieve all of his comedy props, stuffing them all back into his pockets haphazardly.

Blue eyed the piles of joke objects with disgust. He furrowed his brows deeply, wanting to toss out all of his brother’s prank materials, so that they would never be used on him again, but managed to hold himself back. As much as he considered Stretch’s pranks to be the bane of his existence, he would tolerate them, if only for his brother’s sake. He would never take away his younger brother’s fun, no matter how much it came at his (and everyone else’s) expense.

Frisk came up behind her children and placed a hand on their shoulders. She smiled apologetically at the Underswap brothers, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“I’m sorry about my children. They both get so excited when we have interesting new guests! I hope they didn’t upset you two. I know their exuberance can be a bit much if you’re not used to it.”

Elys and Arno tried their best to look suitably contrite, though only Arno managed to pull off the look convincingly. Elys’s grin was still decidedly mischievous, as she and her brother mumbled their apologies to the spatially-and-temporally-displaced skeleton brothers.

Blue waved off their apologies, flashing them a good-natured smile.

“IT’S ALRIGHT FRISK! LITTLE ELYS! LITTLER ARNO! THE MAGNIFICENT SANS UNDERSTANDS!! YOU TWO KIDS COULDN’T HELP BUT BE IN AWE OF MY COOLNESS, AND JUST HAD TO ADMIRE ME FROM UP CLOSE!! I TOTALLY GET IT!! MWEH HEH HEH!!”

Stretch merely shrugged his shoulders, and muttered, “what he said”.

Frisk’s smile softened. She inclined her head towards Blue and Stretch, ignoring the way Elys snickered under her breath with the ease of practice.

“How very kind of you, Other Sans, Other Papyrus. How about we try this again? I think a redo of greetings is in order.” She gently squeezed her daughter’s shoulder in warning. “And this time we’ll all make a good first impression, won’t we?”

“Yes Mama!” her children answered back dutifully, before they each took turns introducing themselves once more.

Elys was first. “I’m Elys, and I’m pleased to meet you two! I can’t wait to get to know you both better.”

Followed by her brother. “I’m Arno! I love hugs and Mama’s cookies! Let’s have lotsa fun together~!”

Frisk carded her fingers through her children’s hair, smiling down at them, affection written all across her face.

Blue beamed at them, then struck a pose, with his gloved fists planted on his hips. Even his bandana seemed to flare up, like a rabbit on full alert.

“MWEH HEH HEH!! IT’S GREAT TO MEET YOU TWO! I AM THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!! RIDDLER EXTRAORDINAIRE! MASTER TACO CHEF! EXPERT FRIEND! FUTURE GUARDSMAN! AND AN ALL ROUND VERY STRONG AND VERY CAPABLE MONSTER!!”

Elys and Arno clapped their hands and Blue preened at their applause.

Then, all heads turned towards Stretch.

The youngest skeleton monster shrunk back as everyone’s attention fell on him. He almost seemed to try to hide behind his brother’s back, despite being twice as tall as him, and gave the kids a timid wave. Sans clicked his tongue at him, and nudged his daughter.

“c’mon kiddo, go show this other pap how we greet new pals here.”

He shot her a sly wink, which she returned, identical wide grins on their faces.

With purposeful steps, Elys approached Stretch and extended her hand towards him.

“C’mon Other Uncle Pap. Let’s be friends! Won’t you shake my hand?”

Stretch felt a tremor go through his Soul at being called ‘uncle’. He stood rooted to the spot, as his Soul trembled lightly.

Blue gave him a reassuring smile and a pat on the back, before moving aside.

“GO ON, PAPY! THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO MAKE A GOOD FIRST IMPRESSION ON YOUR NEW FRIEND!!”

The taller skeleton hesitated for a few seconds, before he tentatively stepped away from his brother, and toward Elys. He came to a halt in front of her and straightened up nervously, before abruptly realising that the way he now towered over her might be intimidating for her, and promptly hunched over again. The way his spine curved and his knees bent was a little uncomfortable, but at least he was eye level with the kid.

Elys squinted her eyes at him, smile still firmly in place, and wriggled her fingers at him in invitation.

Stretch gulped, trying to collect himself. He took a moment to make sure that he didn’t have anything hidden up his sleeve this time, before raising a shaky hand to grip the young girl’s.

As soon as his hand tightened around hers, a loud “PFFFFTTTTTT” resounded throughout the room.

For one brief, terrifying, Soul-tearing second, Stretch thought that he’d made the same mistake as before and had just unwittingly pranked another poor, unsuspecting child. He’d messed up again . The kid would hate him. Her family would never forgive him. His brother would be so disappointed in him.

But before panic could truly set in, Elys burst into raucous laughter. Her father’s chuckles soon joined hers. Stretch could only stare dumbly at Elys, as the young hybrid released his hand to lift up hers, showing off the small, pink whoopee cushion grasped in it.

“Heheheh! The old whoopee cushion in the hand trick is always funny! Right, Papa?”

She flashed her father a bright grin. Sans responded with a wink, and reached over to ruffle her hair with a proud smile.

“right you are, kiddo. heh, ya really got him good, elys. nice one,” he praised his daughter, who beamed at him in response.

As the realisation set in that it was Elys who had pranked him , Stretch gradually relaxed, his Soul settling down. He almost sagged with relief. He hadn’t messed up. He’d just fallen victim to the same sort of practical joke that he’d often played on others, especially his brother.

Who also appeared to be laughing, Stretch noticed, as Blue tried vainly to stifle his giggles behind his gloved fists. Even Frisk and the other kid, Arno, were laughing, although the human looked faintly embarrassed at her family’s shenanigans. Her long-suffering look spoke volumes about the frequency of such pranks.

With his earlier worries having fled him, Stretch began snickering as well. That really was a well-executed prank, he had to admit. The kind of prank that he’d have pulled, as a matter of fact. He couldn’t help feeling impressed that someone had actually managed to get one over on him, for the first time since he was a babybone. That was quite a feat.

“your dad’s right, pal. that was a nice prank,” he readily agreed, hands sinking into his pockets. Elys puffed up proudly at his words. Then Stretch leaned forward slightly, a smirk on his face. “but it’ll take more’n that to rattle my bones , heh. i’m a master prankster, squirt.”

Elys’s grin widened, a devious glint entering her eyes.

“Oh? Is that a challenge?”

Stretch’s expression matched hers, his earlier hesitation and nervousness nothing but a distant memory.

“you bet, small fry. lemme show ya how a pro wins a prank war. next time, the joke’s gonna be on you .”

Elys’s grin turned defiant, her blues eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Nuh uh! Make no bones about it, I’m gonna win!”

Stretch snickered as she childishly stuck her tongue out at him. He could feel his normally lacklustre energy and enthusiasm rise to meet hers. He hadn’t felt this motivated in a long time.

“oh ho! our battle will be legendary. i can feel it in my bones, nyeh heh.”

Their banter was abruptly cut short by Blue, who stomped his foot, an incensed look on his skull. His cerulean eyelights gleamed sharply, as they flit between his younger brother and his alternate self’s child.

“NO! STOP!” he ordered, crossing his arms in front of him in the shape of an X. “THOSE WERE TERRIBLE!! AWFUL!! LOW EFFORT!! LAZY PUNS!! YOU TWO NEED TO LEARN TO PUT SOME MORE BACKBONE INTO YOUR JOKES!!!”

There was a beat of silence, before the room dissolved into more laughter. Blue put his hands on his hips, surveying the laughing faces around him with a pleased grin.

Frisk was the first to recover. As her giggles died down, she fell silent and tilted her head, eyes closed and seeming to listen to something.

“It’s Cali’s feeding time again,” she announced, fiddling idly with the gold chain around her neck.

Her husband inclined his skull to her in a nod.

“gotcha, babe. i’ll go fetch the babybone, while you prepare her milk.”

Frisk nodded her affirmative, and the both of them left to accomplish their individual tasks.

Elys shot Stretch a mischievous smirk, which the monster returned. The two looked ready to resume their pun battle, and Blue eyed them suspiciously. Thankfully, Sans returned before either prankster had the chance to test Blue’s patience for bad puns.

Baby Calibri was wide awake, and still in her monster form, golden eyelights darting all about the place as she took in her change of surroundings from within the safety and comfort of her father’s arms. When her siblings dashed towards the two of them, the baby’s eyelights zeroed in on them. Recognising her older siblings, Calibri’s face lit up, and her toothless mouth lifted up into a happy smile.

“Hi Baby Sis,” Elys greeted her, booping the baby’s nasal bone and giggling at her sister’s confused expression, the infant almost going cross-eyed as she tried to look at where Elys had poked her.

“Hiya Baby Sis!” Arno echoed his older sister, lifting himself up onto his tiptoes to gaze at his younger sister. Calibri babbled cheerfully at him, and Arno caught one of her flailing hands in his. His smile was soft as her tiny fingers curled around his.

Blue wanted to coo at how sweet the three of them were being. It melted his Soul to see how strong the bond between the siblings was. He hoped that his future children, if he were lucky enough to have any someday, would be just as close.

Stretch inched towards them with cautious steps, still painfully aware of how poorly his last interaction with Calibri had gone. He dearly hoped to make amends with the baby. However, as soon as she caught sight of him, Calibri’s tiny, skeletal face crumpled into a grimace, and she started whining, her volume steadily increasing. Stretch hastily backpedalled, beads of sweat forming on his bony brow.

But before the baby could launch into a full-blown tantrum, Elys moved to block Stretch from Calibri’s view.

“Hey Cali! Look at me!” Elys covered her face with her hands, “Peak-a-” then lifted her hands away, simultaneously changing into her monster form, as she shouted, “Bone!”

Calibri squealed in delight, her previous upset completely forgotten. Everyone heaved a huge sigh of relief.

With that crisis averted, Blue stared at the now skeletal Elys with star-shaped eyelights.

“WOWZERS!! IT’S SO COOL HOW YOU CAN SWITCH FORMS LIKE THAT!!”

Elys grinned back at him.

“Heheh, thanks, Other Papa!”

Blue’s Soul pulsed at the name, almost thumping against his ribs. His bones rattled with joy, his eye sockets widening and his starry eyelights going fuzzy.

Arno bounced up and down on the tips of his feet, causing his long, red scarf to flap behind him.

“I can do it too!” he asserted, then promptly changed into his monster form as well. “See!”

Blue looked positively giddy.

“WOWZERS!!! YOU BOTH LOOK LIKE LITTLE SKELETON MONSTERS!!!” he gushed, tone full of awe. He was quite literally vibrating with excitement at that point, although he eyed the two elder hybrids’ white hair with curiosity. “EXCEPT FOR THE HAIR. WHY DO YOU TWO STILL HAVE HAIR IN THIS FORM??”

The two small skeletons giggled.

“ ’Cause Mama thinks it’s funny,” Elys answered, Arno nodding his agreement beside her.

Blue nodded his skull in understanding.

“I SEE. THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE!”

“uh huh,” Stretch agreed, still keeping his distance from Calibri, who was beginning to squirm in her father’s arms, making soft, discontented sounds.

Sans gently rocked his youngest child, shushing her softly.

“easy there, babybone,” he murmured to her. “mama’s gonna be back with your milk any moment now. just gotta be patient.”

Right on cue, Frisk walked into the room, shaking a baby bottle filled with milk.

“Here we are then – warm monster milk for my little angel.”

Stretch raised a browbone at her.

“monster milk? she doesn’t eat human food?” he questioned.

Frisk smiled softly at his query.

“She does. But she’s half monster, so she needs to eat monster food as well as human food,” Frisk patiently explained. “It’s the same for all hybrids. Even when they’re still in their mother’s womb.” She gave the Underswap brothers a meaningful look. “Which is something you two will need to keep in mind, in case you ever have hybrid children of your own.”

Blue and Stretch nodded solemnly at her words. The elder skeleton monster’s expression was particularly serious, as he etched this information into his mind, in preparation for the future he so fervently hoped for. He’d make sure to learn how to expertly cook both human and monster food, so that one day, he could cook something that would make both his wife and their children smile.

Blue was shaken out of his dreams of a bright future, when Sans approached him. The older monster held out his infant daughter invitingly.

“here. wanna feed her, buddy?”

Blue was taken aback by Sans’s offer, and let out an excited gasp.

“REALLY?!?!”

Frisk joined them, stroking her youngest child’s downy head when Calibri reached her hands up towards her.

“Of course,” she assured Blue. “If you want to, that is.”

Blue barely restrained himself from bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“I DO!! I REALLY DO!!”

Both Frisk and Sans chuckled at his enthusiasm. With careful, measured movements, Sans transferred his baby girl into Blue’s arms for the second time that day. When Calibri was once more secured within Blue’s hold, Frisk held out the baby bottle to Blue, who took it with all the reverence of someone receiving a sacred treasure, instead of a common, glass bottle. After some instruction from the baby’s parents, Blue then placed the clear, silicone teat to Calibri’s mouth, and waited for her to latch onto it, with an expectant look on his skull.

However, Calibri refused. Her brow wrinkled and her now blue eyelights glowed dully, as she repeatedly pushed the teat out of her mouth with her tongue.

Thankfully, Arno was quick to act, as he reached up to grab one of Calibri’s hands, effectively taking her attention off of the weird, annoying stranger trying to feed her, and onto her beloved older brother.

“Cali! Baby Sis! It’s okay!” he cooed to his little sister, who babbled happily back to him, her eyelights returning to their usual bright, molten gold hue. “This Other Papa is really nice. He’s not scary at all! So be a good girl and drink your milk, okay? Mama and Papa said that you need to drink all your milk to grow up big and strong, like them!”

With Calibri suitably distracted by her brother’s presence, she allowed the bottle’s nipple into her mouth and reflexively began suckling it. Blue was mesmerised by the cute, little noises the baby made as she gulped down her milk without fuss.

Arno kept up a steady stream of encouragement the whole time, as his younger sister guzzled down all her milk, her gold eyelights focused on her brother’s warm, familiar smile.

Once the bottle had been emptied, Sans and Frisk explained to Blue how to burp Calibri. The transdimensional traveller was initially appalled by the idea of coaxing a baby into doing something so disgusting, but once he understood the necessity of the action, he was more than willing to comply. He was extremely careful to not put too much force into his pats to the baby’s back, and once Calibri had expelled all of her trapped gas, Blue looked relieved that he’d done his job properly.

He did look to the child’s parents for confirmation, just to be sure.

“You did really well, dear, thank you,” Frisk assured him.

“yup. good job, pal,” Sans concurred, offering him a thumbs up.

“YAY!!” Blue cheered. He then turned to Arno, beaming at him gratefully. “AND THANK YOU, ARNO!! YOU WERE VERY HELPFUL!!”

Arno smiled up at him, head tilted to the side bashfully as he gripped the end of his scarf.

“Aww, you’re welcome, Other Papa. I didn’t do nothin’ special. Mama and Papa taught me to always throw a bone to those who need help.”

Blue was startled by the unexpected pun for a brief moment, before chuckling in surprised delight.

“MWEH HEH HEH! NOW THAT WAS A GOOD PUN!!”

However, Arno only blinked up at him in confusion.

“What was?”

Blue stared at him. Arno stared back, innocently clueless expression plastered all over his face. Sans and Elys both snickered helplessly. It slowly dawned on Blue that the young boy had no idea that he’d just told a pun. Blue was at a loss for words for a few seconds, before finally beaming at Arno in amazement.

“WOWZERS!! YOU’RE A NATURAL, ARNO!! KEEP IT UP, AND YOU’LL EVEN RIVAL MY EXPERT WORDPLAY SOME DAY!!”

Arno still looked clueless as to what he’d done, but that didn’t stop an eager, pleased smile from forming on his face.

“Wowie! Thanks, Other Papa!”

“NO PROBLEM, MWEH!!”

The others all chuckled at their exchange.

In Blue’s arms, Calibri let out a big yawn. She’d finally grown used to being held by this loud, overly excitable, alternate version of her father, and had relaxed enough to fall asleep. With a full belly, she drifted off to sleep, lulled by the voices of her family around her.

Blue gazed, entranced, at the baby’s peaceful expression. Her mouth was slightly open, soft breaths escaping her each time her chest rose and fell. Occasionally, Calibri would twitch in her sleep, or some pleasant dream would cause her to smile unconsciously.

It made something in Blue’s Soul clench, knowing that this innocent, helpless baby, the child of an alternate version of himself , trusted him enough to sleep so soundly in his arms.

As he looked up, he took in the happy smiles on the faces of all the people around him.

The confident, laidback other him, the human woman with the dazzling smile and bewitching eyes, the young girl with the cheeky grin, the younger boy with the innocent smile, and his brother, who had come closer, to stand right beside him without him realising it.

His brother, who had recently started acting strange (well, stranger than usual), although he tried hard to hide it from Blue.

His brother, who now wore a soft, peaceful, contented look on his face. It was a look Blue realised, with a start, that he hadn’t seen for a long time. Too long. Far too long for his baby brother.

Sure, things hadn’t been... the best, back home, what with being trapped Underground, with limited space, no sun, and a growing population... and especially not since what happened to their father, but...

But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be happy! That his brother couldn’t be happy!

With growing resolve in his Soul, Blue vowed that he and his brother would make the very best of their time in this amazing alternate universe. They’d learn all that they could to prepare themselves for achieving this same outcome in their universe as well. They’d enjoy themselves to the absolute fullest, soaking up the sun, gazing at the stars (the stars! Blue would finally be able to look at real stars !), and spending time with the humans on the Surface.

Blue was determined that the two of them would have the time of their lives here!

The future was looking bright for him and his brother, and Blue had only one thing to say to that:

“WOWZERS!!!”

______________________________________________

I actually have several ideas for some notable events that happen during the Swap bros' stay in this universe, so I'll write a handful of little snippets of their impromptu vacation. Just some of the things they get up to that I find kinda interesting (like meeting the Great Papyrus and his family, can't forget about them!).

I have a couple of other things I'm working on at the moment, so I have no idea which of those is coming up next. I'll just see where inspiration takes me.

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haitokunohonoo · 6 months

Text

Meme thing because I'm procrastinating. Originally from here. Don't feel like answering every question though.

1. What is your species? - Ugh....

2. Are you out? To whom? - I talk to friends about it sometimes but I know most of them think it's weird. Twitter and Tiktok kinnies have made things... difficult.

3. How old were you when you realized you were not human? What made you realize it? - [REDACTED]. Friends joked about it. Went and read some studies and anecdotal essays about it. Realized they were right.

4. Do you identify as a part of the “otherkin”, or, “therian” community? What communities do you identify with? - I stay on the edges and just observe but sometimes I use the 'kin label. Can't narrow it down between "otherkin" and "fictionkin," hence an apostrophe.

6. Have you faced any abuse because of identifying not human? - No. There have been jokes but people shut up when I put my foot down.

8. Do you believe there should be non-human pride? What do you imagine it being like? - It'd be nice if more people were accepting of alterhuman identities but it's very hard to get anyone outside the community to take it seriously. Even parts of the community itself don't take it seriously. If these obstacles were overcome, I think a non-human pride event would be similar to a furry gathering but with a larger variety of non-animal things. Maybe similar to a combination furry/anime convention.

9. What does being not human mean to you? - Slow organization of whatever the hell is bouncing around inside my skull.

10. What have other people said about your non-human nature? - They're jealous of my excellent night vision and high tolerance for spicy food.

14. Tell us about a time you met another non-human, whether in real life or online. - The sister of a friend of a friend once dated a guy that was a vampire. Him and the sister had gotten frisky and he'd bitten her and left marks, which her brother was not happy about. I don't think he knew it was just a foreplay thing but the family was weirdly religious. Who knows. Anyway, the brother ambushed the guy and sucker punched his balls. It was brutal, I don't know why they didn't just talk it out. After the guy recovered, they finally came to an understanding about it but the whole thing was wild. He got punched when I was like 4ft away lmao

16. Your favorite “non-human” book (as in, non-human characters are the main focus). - Monstrous Affections by Kelly Link & Gavin J. Grant. It's an anthology.

17. Your favorite “non-human” movie. - Lost Boys is good. Terminator on a technicality.

19. Is being non-human spiritual for you? - No.

20. Tell us a few thoughts about what it’s like being your species. - Always fogging up the damn windows. Weird dreams.

22. What do you believe causes non-human identity? - From the studies I've read, it makes sense that in a lot of cases it's a coping mechanism for some difficult to process trauma. There's the spiritual aspect too, though I haven't read as much on that and won't write about it here. Another possibility is that everyone plays pretend as a kid. You're supposed to just stop doing that once you reach a certain age? Alterhumanity is deeper than just "pretend," but it's bullshit expecting people to not ever feel like something else as adults.

24. Write something or post a picture about non-humans that upsets you. - Two words: Twitter kinnies.

25. What is the worst argument you’ve heard against being non-human? - "It's just a social media/reality/delusion/etc disorder and shouldn't be taken seriously." Like no shit something's off.

26. Who is your biggest ally? - They follow me here (hi)

27. What is your favorite types of cake? - Local place has this chocolate mousse thing with chocolate shavings that's awesome.

28. What is your favorite type of pie? (Or, is pie an acceptable replacement for cake?) - Pie and cake are both killer. I like pumpkin or strawberry & rhubarb pie.

29. Where did you first learn about being non-human? - DeviantArt back around 2005-2007. I knew a lot of wolves, but I was young and mean about it.

#kin tag /

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thoughtsaladblog · 7 months

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Foolish One...

It's one of those days when you kinda wonder about your life. I mean ok, in my case I wonder that quite often, but it's a little stronger today. The other day I took a trip down memory lane and much to my chagrin I realised I may have been a bit more fast and loose with my life than I'd realised- and let me tell you...It didn't feel good. Suddenly images of hellfire loomed in front of me. Despite my constant quips about dying at 35- I realise that that may not be to my benefit, given my promiscuity.

Honestly, when it comes to random moments of everyday life, I take pride in my openness and somewhat carefree approach when it comes to love and sex- God knows, it took some pretty brutal batterings and scars to get there. I dare not let a man break me like that ever again. And yet, I am human, and I crave love and an intimate connection.

In the last few days, I've been feeling all kinds of frisky- that time of the month of course- but simultaneously I've craved a partner with whom I could simply sit and talk, or just make-out. Yep- you read that right. Make-out. I may be associating teenagers too much, because I thought I was over this nonsense. But here we are...

Anyway, looking into my life I searched for someone I could have that with and could find no one. None of the guys I know could possibly provide the kind of connection I seek- they barely manage to give me what I'm expecting in terms of sex- if they manage to do so at all. Speaking of which, Numb3rs (yes, he resurfaced) and I hooked up last night. It was Meh. I mean, the man's got potential, but I feel like he was trying to do a lot at once and didn't quite pull through in anything because of it. But more importantly- talk about selfish in bed. Dude came, turned over, said he's recovering and dozed off. Le Fuq??! Ummm... still here bro.. this is a two way street. *insert exasperated eyeroll*

And of course what followed was his usual hit it and quit it- the guy woke up at 4.30 and booked a cab back home. He might as well start leaving some money on the bedside table at this rate. And of course, because my dumbass is always drawn to the toxic motherfuckers, I'm fighting back my compulsion to think about him or feel things for him. It's a tough battle- coz I'm attracted to the dude. Don't ask me why- there's no rational reason other than the fact that I'm a lunatic who is just attracted to smart people and the fucker is smart. Feeling about as ridiculous Deepika in "New Year's Eve" at this point. But yes, I need to stop thinking or expecting anything- for the sake of my mental health. Coz foolish one, he was never interested.

But moving on from that... at the expense of sounding repetitive- yes, I went through some of my past posts...I get it, I really need to get a life instead of playing the same old broken record. Buuuut to continue... I'm starting to feel shamed of my promiscuous life and frankly could do with a stable relationship- if those exist. And maybe at this point stop collecting more sins of adultery to an already mile-long list...

I mean it been 31 years... Frankly even I'm judging myself at this point for being unable to lock down some poor soul.

And on a completely different note- I probably ought to re-read the few sensible "enlightened" posts form this blog and get some focus to my life instead of meandering through it. Might lead to less whining- and less repetitive posts.

All in good time, my dear.

K byeeee.

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butcheranons · 2 years

Text

Baby, You're A Haunted House

SUMMARY: Wilbur is your business partner and the ghost that roams your sheets. Even if you have customers, he doesn't seem to mind, taking advantage of his invisibility to tease you. Things get a little frisky in your humble potion shop.

Phantombur fingers you in front of a blissfully unaware Fragrance Man

pairing: FWB! Phantom! Wilbur x Witch!Reader

word count: 4.6k

warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, temperature play (if you squint) angsty,

A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long to post anything! I've been busy out of my mind! I just wanted to give you guys something even if it's not a continuation of any of my stories! Happy reading!!!

The scent of his presence gave him away before he could manage to give you a spook. Newly upturned dirt, freshly mown grass, forgotten bouquets lain by the concrete. You inhale, letting his essence surround your lungs with its ephemeral grip.

“Nice try, Wilbur,” You smile, he doesn’t.

A sigh leaves his lips as his figure slowly fades into your vision, his skin is a ghastly shade of teal decorated with deep cobalt veins just where his folded sleeves let show. His clothes are enticingly outdated, high waisted pants with a pretty knitted sweater tucked into his belt.

“How do you always know?”

“A Witch doesn’t share her secrets,” His eyes are glued to your lips as they stretch into a smile. You’re not wearing your usual lipstick today. “Did you bring me my payment?”

Wilbur nods, reaching into his pockets, “Would it hurt to ask me how my day was?”

You roll your eyes, stretching your hand out.

He puts his hand on top of yours, flipping your palm around until the back of your hand is visible. His lips feel strikingly cold against your skin, but they are gentle, gentler than he ever was with you.

Wilbur tips his cap with a gentlemanly, charming smile.

Had it not been for your experience in dealing with your phantom business partner, your body would’ve been carried away with his seductive aura; Letting the heat that travels through your skin show on your cheeks. But you’ve learned well to not show weakness in front of this scoundrel.

“Okay, what about my pay?”

You see his smile falter, some part of you feeling victorious. He sighs, “Look, business just hasn’t been good, can’t you let me through this once? What about customer loyalty?”

You lean against your counter, arms crossed over your chest; He battles with his brain to keep his eyes on your face and not on your decolletage. “I know for a fact you’ve been having a great fiscal year.”

“Is there not another way I can pay?”

Wilbur leans forward, generous height dwarfing your size. You’re intoxicated with his scent, physically holding yourself back from taking a deep breath. His voice is husky and it tickles your cheeks when he grazes his lips along your jaw.

There is something that burns in your chest with the ease he leans to swindle you out of a few gold, you wish not to wonder how Wilbur gathered his fortune. He’s reaching for your waist when you wake from your trance.

Your partnership was rather simple. You liked living in your quiet swamp, away from the bustling village but you also loved selling your wares to those in need. Witchcraft was a generous gift and you wouldn’t shy away from making lives easier.

Wilbur was a businessman at heart, much to the dismay of the ninjologists that littered the village. Potions were scarce in the plains that surrounded the Pube but to his luck, you were brimming with however many helpful bottles he needed.

He was the middleman, allowing you to make potions while he price-gouged them like the capitalist bastard he was. His eloquent ways had him slithered along your business and your sheets. Never a relationship, no. God forbid the glorious Wilbur Soot be shackled to someone like you.

He could go back to his stupid little potion shop, sell his stupid overpriced potions with his stupid smile. You didn’t care.

“Of course!” You yip, “I haven’t been able to tend to my garden, you will find all the tools in the back! Have fun!”

Wilbur’s expression falls, he whines, opening his pretty lips to speak but you stop him with your index. An unnervingly charismatic smile on your red lips.

“Have fun!” (Fuck off)

Before he can curse you off, you’re turning to tend to the shy customer that awaits by the door. Wilbur sighs, facing the backdoor that leads to your cottage.

Your quiet abode by the swamp couldn’t be any more different from his charming estate uphill. If his house could be described with a minimalist antique scholar style then your place could only be described as a maximalist. Not a single surface left untarnished by odd trinkets or crochet throw blankets.

He felt cramped, not only because his height allowed his head to almost graze the ceiling but because it was hard to manoeuvre around your living room with so many decorations haphazardly placed all over your mismatched furniture.

Wilbur always avoided using vicinities in buildings, finding it much easier to phase through walls. But his personality never allowed him to simply gloss over your decor and miss any additions he could criticise. He liked to say that your home was simply misshapen, with rooms that shouldn’t face each other and architecture that didn’t obey the laws of physics.

Your bed stood unmade, brightly coloured duvets wrinkled perfectly thrown around the shape of your body. By the side, lies the terrifying fluffy creature. It lazily stretches with a soft meow; the sight of its deadly claws sending a shiver through Wilbur’s body.

The balcony fits in with your home; Just as cluttered. Broken teapots and mugs holding flourishing plants. He busies himself with tending to your garden; Not that they would benefit from his care, he was clumsier than a newborn foal when it came to living organisms.

From the balcony he can see into your shop, your delightful smile as you walk the customer through your wares, carefully listening to their troubles and suggesting the best solution. Wilbur scoffs when you offer them a discount, with your prices, you were close to bleeding money. How you could keep up your maximalist lifestyle was beyond him.

The customer leans over the counter, a sly smile on his lips as he puts away the newly acquired wares. Heh, what a creep. Wilbur scoffs, leaving his gardening tools as he phases through your walls, falling into your shop. Still invisible, he creeps behind the man, about to give him a heart attack.

But you smile just as Wilbur is set to scare the creepiness out of this dude. And when the man reaches to place a daisy by your ear, you smile, leaning into his touch. Gushing over the silly flower. You had flowers a thousand times prettier growing in your backyard, why were so happy about this crumpled daisy?

Wilbur stands there, unseen as you watch the customer leave. You turn to face the mirror, hands delicately grazing the bitten white petals. You didn’t even like daisies, he scoffs.

You turn around, eyes scanning over your shop.

“Wilbur?”

The way you call his name is unsure, but natural to your tongue. A soft whisper meant only for his ears. He phases into your field of vision, standing out amongst your humble estate in his posh posture.

“Are you finished?” You’re clearly interrupted by his presence, eyes drifting from the daisy to busy themselves with something else.

Wilbur nods, “Nice flower.”

Your smile beams, cheeks rounded in pride. “Thank you”. You run your fingers through your hair, suddenly feeling under the spotlight.

Wilbur wasn’t one to give out compliments, so you would take it. Backhanded or not.

He huffs at your unphased attitude.

You pay him no mind, tending to your counter and making sure everything is in place until the next traveller passes by your swamp. Wilbur busies himself with watching you.

Hearing the ruffling of feathers, you put the flowerpot back on its shelf, running out to the porch.

“Phil!” You wave.

It’s only when he’s closer you notice he has company.

Phil ceases the movement in his wings, gently gliding down to where you stand. He greets you with a sweet smile, adjusting his clothes.

“Fragrance Man!,” You greet with a simple curt.

“Please, call me Mr. Fragrance Man,” He smiles, leaving you confused.

“...Sure!”

“How’ve you been?” Phil asks

“Bored!” You giggle, “There’s not much you can do out here!” Gesturing to your swamp, you sigh.

“You’re always welcome to stay at the Pub or my house if you need,” He pats your shoulder, offering you a lovely smile, “You must be lonely out here… You can always write me if you want some company!”

“Thanks!” You smile. Phil was always willing to go above and beyond for others, you admired his determination to be of aid to those around him, never asking for something in exchange. “Though, I love my little swamp!”

He laughs and you realise there must have been a reason for him to visit, especially with someone else.

“Whaddya need today? I’ve got some fresh Fire resistance!”

“Just some restocking, shouldn’t take too long…”

You idly chit chat as you walk into your shop and he glances around your shelves. Not taking no for an answer, you’re prompt to serve them some afternoon tea and cakes.

“Apologies, were you expecting a visit?” He asks, noticing how fresh your pastries are. “I can leave…”

“Oh, not at all!” Your answer is curt, but his question reminds you of your ghastly guest. He’s nowhere to be seen, but your nose can still detect a faint grasslike scent. “I just enjoy baking!” You say, returning to your conversation.

Fragrance Man has just made a hilarious remark on the viscosity of slimes, making you topple over your counter in a fit of laughter. You’re hit with that strong scent of flowers again when a breeze carries a string of unenthusiastic words to your ears.

“It wasn’t even that funny…”

Your body jumps, shaking the goosebumps away you turn to your guests. “What did you say?”

He seems puzzled, “Sorry, what? Oh- I said slimes–”

“Oh! I thought I heard you say something after that,” You laugh it off,” Must’ve been a pesky mob outside”

There’s a faint scoff by your right ear.

You roll your eyes, biting your lips to hold back a stubborn smile. He hasn’t left.

Phil has his resources on the counter, just a bit of everything to make sure he’s stocked. After double checking his list, he places the paper back in his pocket.

“Well, I’ve been meaning to collect some slime balls, so I’ll be leaving you early. You can put Fragrance Man’s on my tab.”

“So early?” You can’t help but sound disappointed, “Alright, no problem! Have a nice day!” You wave as he gathers his things.

Fragrance man stands up, teacup long forgotten by the centre table.

“So… What have you been doing lately?” You ask as he is busying himself with colourful bottles on the shelves. “Any exciting new things?”

“Oh, we’re making a library…”

The sparkles in your eyes don’t go unnoticed by either men. “Really?! It must look beautiful! Just to think of so many books in one place!”

He chuckles, “There’s not much progress yet”

“I’m sure it will be an amazing build,” He smiles, shaking his head at your enthusiasm.

“I’m not sure about that”

“Come on!”

You’re vehement on listing the architecture on the server and every single one of its features, including his church. That’s when you feel cold breathing on your nape, it sends shivers down your spine, short-circuiting your brain.

You apologise and carry on your monologue, shielding your neck from the hauntings of your business partner. But you feel the weight of his chin on your shoulder, his arms around your waist with a strong yet gentle grip. It takes you a couple of seconds to process the feeling of his embrace, especially around your clothed body. But once you do, you fight back your urge to lean into it.

“Well, I didn’t do much–” Fragrance man opens a bottle, bringing it to nose with a deep sniff before letting it join the clinking bottles around his arm. He doesn’t pay you any mind as he speaks.

Wilbur’s cold digits travel around your body, tracing your figure while you root yourself against the counter, determined to not show any emotions. He is intently watching your face, eyes glued to yours while you’re laser-focused on someone else – To your defence, it’s not like anyone could see him in his ghost form.

The fabric of your long dress bunches nicely around his fingers, the pretty shade of blue makes him want to hold it for longer, but he lets it fall around his wrists.

Not only are his limbs cold, but they have a freezing atmosphere that seems to suck the warmth of anything in its path. Even inches away, you feel that chill run up your legs, raising skin and leaving goosebumps in its path.

”Are you ignoring me?”

No reply.

His lips run through your neck with littered kisses and kitten licks, feeling your loose hair tickle his cheeks, he smiles. While his fingers are dancing circles around your inner thigh, he uses his knee to part your legs.

Always a tease with him. Light scratching following the hem of your underwear, pulling on the elastic and bunching the fabric around his fingers. But never exactly touching you where you need it the most.

Wilbur watches carefully as you suck a breath in, your lips pressing in a flat line, your back unconsciously leaning into his chest. Even if you keep your eyes on Fragrance Man, mimicking his expressions to make sure he wouldn’t suspect a thing.

Wilbur wanted you to stop paying attention to him.

His finger runs through your folds, your skin quivering under his touch.

His touches around your core steals a silent mewl from your lips, surprising all.

“What d’you say?” Fragrance Man asks.

You want to bury yourself six feet under and never return. “Nothing! Thought I saw a bug!” You laugh it off, clamping a hand over your mouth so it wouldn’t happen again.

You’re dripping into his touch, wetness pooling into his fingers with a sinful burning sensation of possession. Because of him, you were breathing in heavily, your chest rising uneven is such a pretty view.

You run your fingers through your neck, feeling the sweat start to form. But he sees it almost as an invitation with your glistening skin, veins pulsating in a fastened heartbeat.

You always felt unattainably warm, especially to a cold-blooded hybrid like him. But the heat that radiates from your cheeks and your neck is caused by his actions.

He lavishes in that warmth, breathing in your nature with insatiable determination to fill his lungs with you. Your skin feels alive against his ghoulish complexion, almost worthy of a mythological tale. Of the undead feeding on the youth of its victims.

But for now, for every living breath and lively heat that spreads through your cheeks; he could live. As if your sharp breaths were an extension of his lungs, your gasps fill him up with warmth blooming in his chest.

When he moves his finger, there’s a quiet wet noise that escapes, that you quickly mask by tapping your fingernails against the marbled counter. Wilbur can’t hold back his smile.

Your hips lean to meet his fingers, brushing against his own. Your choked breath is a sign you felt the volume that stands in his slacks. But you remain seemingly composed if not for your ragged breathing.

Wilbur watches as you lick your lips.

”Fuck”

It’s a mistake that slips past his lips but it finally brings you to face his direction; With your parted lips, deliciously glossy red and your glassy eyes, fluttering eyelashes framing your lustful gaze.

And he watches you realise he’s unseen: Your eyes searching for his figure, a certain hurry, a certain yearn in the way you want to find his eyes. To gaze into them, to watch the way they shine under the artificial lighting of your home.

Wilbur wants to kiss you, to take you apart around his fingers and watch you come undone. Piece by piece. He would spread you like an intricate puzzle and study your curves and edges, finding a place for him to fit and make you complete.

Wants to lie on your smile and the way his name rolls off your tongue with such naturality like it belonged in your lips and in a way, it did.

“I think I got everything,” Fragrance Man looks at his selection, about six or seven bottles he juggles around his chest.

You’re taken back into reality, turning around to face your customer. Wilbur steps away from you and the cold emanating from his body is gone.

“Is that all?” You force a smile, extending your hands to help him check out.

Though, when you bag his items your mind is far away.

Wilbur was rare to show emotions, well, not the emotions you liked. He was an arrogant prick with an immense ego only befitting of someone of his posture; A famed businessman with inexplicable charisma.

“How much do I owe ya?” He is quick to pull his thick wallet, bursting at the sides with money.

“Oh, it’s on Phil’s tab…” You wave him off,

“How generous of him… Not that I’d have any trouble paying, Y’know” He smiles. The earthy scent of freshly mowed grass fades from your nostrils, giving into a pungent vinegary scent.

“Yeah, sure” You scratch at your neck, physically holding yourself back from cringing at the smell. “Let… Let me see you out.”

You walk him outside, bidding him goodbye by the porch. It��s an awkward handshake, made even more awkward when he brings your hand to his nose. You watch as Fragrance Man takes a deep sniff.

“Nice scent. Goodbye.”

It’s such an unexpected gesture any words your brain could formulate are turned into dust. You stand on the porch, watching his weirdly confident stance as he wades fearlessly into the swampy waters.

Wilbur’s there when you come back.

It’s the petrichor, upturned dirt. It’s fresh and blooms in your chest with prickly vines around your beating heart; Not willing to ever separate from you lest you be slashed by its thorns.

His eyes are on you, scanning your figure with such delicacy as if you’d simply vanish from his sight; He’d be a fool to believe so, you weren’t him, after all.

His lips part and you scan his face for a sly smile, for a hint of a jokeful tone in his voice but he looks serious. And for a second, blood drains from your body as your mind is filled with unhappy endings. What if he were to say this was all a mistake from the very beginning? And you were nothing but a gaffe in his notebook, a bit of spilt ink that stains his perfect history…

You couldn’t bring yourself to bear such a destiny, after having a taste of presence how could you return to loneliness?

Wilbur almost flinches when you make your way to him with determined steps, every note of your being is wafted in his direction with a light breeze. You grab his collar, allowing yourself to dwell in his confused gaze.

That’s before your lips are crashing against his and you’re standing on your very tippy-toes to reach his face. He is taken aback but let’s your warmth permeate his skin, rushing fresh oxygen into his lungs.

He’s on you; grabbing, grazing, kneading at every bit of showing skin you offer his greedy touch. You’re stumbling back, emphasis on stumbling; just about everything in your path is taken down with his lanky limbs navigating through your cramped living room.

You quite literally bump into the couch, tumbling over one another as you fall back into your cushions.

When he leans back, beckoning to remove your dress, you note the red stains over his lips and you can only admire its beauty; The bright coloured shiny paint that contrasts his pale complexion: Tarnished.

Your dress is long forgotten across the room along with his sweater and shirt.

He paws at your chest in awe, the pulsating veins flourishing with life under your skin are but an invitation for him to trace every single one of them.

You discard your bra while he undoes his belt and slacks, long past the shyness of a first time naked before Wilbur.

His tongue runs across your clavicles with a trail of kisses, nibbles, hickies and everything his brain entices him to do. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, closer, closer.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage and with every beat he feels his body jump with electricity. Your fingers are playing with the soft curls of his caramel hair, you pick up his cap, putting it on your head with a quiet giggle before throwing it across the room.

His hands fit around your breasts, kneading at the abundant flesh and his brain can’t help but be filled with the word ‘perfect’ all over. Because when he pinches your nipple, you throw your head back, presenting yourself to his lips.

Holding back the moans are futile and it’s not like anyone will be there to hear. Only the two of you in this little cottage.

You’re fully naked before him, and though you should feel cold, especially with his low body temperature; You can’t help but burn in anticipation.

“Come on, Wilbur, I think I’m wet enough…”

He laughs softly.

Eyes scanning from his gorgeous face, lustful eyes go down his chest; He wears a white undershirt you’ve become accustomed to. He never fully took his shirt in front of you and a part of you wished to voice your praise and worship to every bit of his ethereal being but in what position were you to say that?

What say did you have in his life when you were but a fleeting amusement to fill his nights with sweet kisses?

Though you served yourself in full to his mercy, there would always remain a barrier between your chests; Never fully feeling his skin on yours.

Your fingers graze along the front of his pants, his bulge visibly straining the thin fabric. Wilbur has his glued to your face, how you lick your lips, playing with the elastic band; Giving him a taste of his teasing with a mischievous, irresistible smile.

He’s pulsating in your hands, messing with your brain’s perception of temperature. You watch his face contort, his breathing hitches when you run your fingers along his length.

“What a sinful, sinful view…” He smiles, pumping his own cock, eyes feasting on your aroused body; Devouring every inch of you with fervour, burning into his memory that sight.

The daisy lies pretty by your hair, not as pretty as you, of course. It’s an innocent accessory though it seems to match you perfectly. But it gives him a silly idea of having you by a meadow, stretching your body across a field of beautiful flowers, bathing in their scent and feeling the dirt under your naked bodies.

You smile and he sighs, “Who’s at fault for that?”

“Yours truly…” His voice is a husky whisper that dissipates along the curves of your collarbone. You smile proudly, meeting his lips halfway, tasting his confidence and his sly tongue.

Lining up with your entrance, he’s a tease and a half, covered in your slickness and smiling at the disgraceful wet sounds. The disparity of you enveloping his freezing body with your warmth is a sensation neither will ever tire of.

You lay there, relishing in that refreshing coldness creeping your body from the inside sending shivers through your blood. The temperature allows you to feel every inch of him dragging along your walls, every vein and every bump of his shaft.

He allows your warmth to encompass him, letting his body feel warm for once in forever.

Wilbur’s lips are stealing every breath from your open mouth. Drinking every broken moan and every ragged chant of his name. God, his name coming out of you sounds like the most angelic harmony.

A prayer for his ears only dripping in honey desire.

“God, you’re squeezing me–” It’s choked and muffled against your neck, he buries his nose into your skin.

His movements are sluggish, and he finds it hard to bottom out without having to stop and moan. Watching the way you cover him in your juices, glistening under the soft lighting.

You hum, too focused on the swimming pleasure coursing through your body.

Every thrust sends your body jiggling and he can’t help but lick his lips; Entranced by the way your tits bounce up and down, following his sweet rhythm.

“Faster…Fuck!Faster– Goddammit–”

He smiles at your groan.

You cup his face, pulling him into a kiss and the warmth of your palms makes him feel as if blushing. With a lively healthy heat on his cheeks.

“God… I’m close,” Wilbur chokes, “Gonna- Cum with me?”

“Yeah… Yeah-” You nod, closing your eyes, letting your forehead touch his. His hands find yours, intertwining your fingers. “Come on–” You smile and he can’t help but reciprocate with a breathless smirk. “Cum for me, pretty boy”

Wilbur laughs, his pretty eyes crinkling and his cheeks rounded. “I’m a pretty boy? What are you, then?”

You shake your head, “I don’t know”

“My pretty girl?”

You smile, “Yours?” It sounds bittersweet on your tongue.

Wilbur nods and you can’t discern the playful tone in his voice but chuck it out to wishful thinking, “Mine. Always”

“Yeah–” You breathe out, the knot in the pit of your stomach is tighter and tighter and close to bursting, “yours. Always–”

He watches your lips form a pretty ‘O’, his name falls off in a pretty chant, breathless. It’s not long before he reaches his climax, spilling into you with a final thrust.

Wilbur smiles, he feels alive briefly.

It’s refreshing, the cooling feeling that drives up your body.

You remain motionless, coming down from your high as he rides his own. God, a face like his could end wars… Or start them. His eyes are half-lidded when he opens them, scanning your face with a post-orgasm glow you’ve grown to love.

He leans back into your cushioned old-fashioned sofa, his skin holding a sweaty sheen. You giggle, watching him run his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

God, his post-sex look was just godly.

You place a cushion under your back and lie down to recover your energy; Wilbur chuckles, patting your entangled legs.

Usually, neither spoke after your rendezvous. You lied in the afterglow, basking in the high endorphins cursing through your veins. It was an untouchable moment where you had no need to acknowledge the outside world.

He uses the hem of his undershirt to wipe down his face, not remembering he has nothing underneath.

And you gasp, holding your breath; He is short of heavenly. His chest falls and rises slowly and you know it matches your breathing. He is lean, not too skinny but not too muscular and you distinctly think how much his physique matches him. A couple inches from his ribcage lies a large diagonal slash across his stomach.

It’s a wide bunched up keloid that shows the growth of skin over an obvious large wound. And you think it looks beautiful; with lines in the same pattern, following a very clear direction it stretches across his abdomen.

Just what would make sure a large gash? It had to be lethal at its size.

When your eyes meet his, your heart crashes to the pit of your stomach. He looks terrified, very obviously shaking with trembling lips and erratic eyes to scan your face desperately.

You weren’t meant to see that.

“Wait! Wilbur!” You stumble from the couch, not caring of your naked form to follow him.

But you can’t feel his presence, nothing that indicates he's still here.

He’s gone.

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jlf23tumble · 2 years

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Hi! I haven’t been up to date with fandom drama in a few years since I haven’t been active on tumblr, but I read your tags under the ripped jeans Harry post and you got me interested! Could you tell me something about what you’re thinking? What is Olivia doing that you think people should be happy about but are instead whining? what did Robbie Sheffield write? I may have left the larry part of the internet but they still haven’t left my brain 🌼🌞 have a nice day!

anon 2: Hiii :) I saw your tags on the post about Harry wearing jeans but I don’t understand the context for your tags??? I couldn’t find the post/person you were referring to, but could you please explain what you mean regarding this fandom being babies and the whole Olivia proxy/last album being about a break up ect.? Thank you!

----------------

Lumping these together because they're both about my salty-ish tags from last night, a time that was so much quieter than today, weeeee! Sorry it's a bit late, *gestures toward work mail*, but it pretty much always applies, sigh. Those tags stem from some "get a load of THIS horseshit" posts that my brethren and I occasionally trade with each other, usually because we cannot BELIEVE people have the balls to post some of the most malicious, bitter posts you've ever seen, followed by something about how sad it is that fandom is so toxic these days (gotta say, eternal faves). I love these side convos (groupchats, even!) with people who similarly hate the aggressive misogyny in the 1D fandom, and because I follow just a small handful of people in that fandom who don't actively hate women (or feel the need to casually bash them along the way to celebrating their fave rich white man), I'm sometimes out of the loop when the biggies who tend to also be the worst offenders get a little frisky with it, which is why I love it when people send me posts that are the equivalent of "get a load of THIS horseshit"--the lorde provided yesterday! I'll put my unpopular opinions under the cut because it might get rant-y, and I've got tons of aes mutuals who are ????? and patient but probably ???? and patient only to a certain point.

So one of the things I find fascinating about lady-haters in the D fandom is that the vast majority of them seem to be l*rries who also seem to really love spending a lot of time and effort screaming about Eleanor, Camille, Olivia et al. about how they should act and what they should wear and how they should dance or not dance and how obnoxious they are and on and on and on AND ON, while ALSO screaming about how much they support closeted people, hashtag fuck Olivia, man, she's the real villain here! (Paraphrasing, but the #holivia tag on tumblr will give you a pretty nasty snapshot.) And the irony is that by dating Olivia or Eleanor, both these dudes get to write all these songs about a surface relationship that give a good hint about the one right below the surface through that female proxy--you know, because they aren't actually out and can't/won't. And if you're a l*rrie, I'd think you would WANT to see Eleanor around (whew, they didn't break up, even though they were "too young"!), ditto Olivia (whew, I'm ready for a lot of domestic shit about a long-term relationship!), but no, that's a transitive property dot that can't be connected because it means you gotta unclench and let a woman live. To wit: I was sent a post yesterday from one of the biggest lady-haters, saying something something about how Harry's going to have this super domestic album and THEY are taking l*arry's love and putting Olivia in Louis’s place! Outrageous! (Plus a string of tags foaming at the mouth about how awful Olivia is, don't worry, the replies/tags are even bigger yikes.) And it's like, well, YEAH. You should actually find that pretty awesome, in fact, it probably means your faves are still together--I mean, Fine Line has loads of major break-up vibes (in amongst self-discovery and acceptance), and Harry very publicly had a breakup with Louis's proxy on that one. Rob Sheffield's article promoting Fine Line basically promotes that break-up and ends on a real fucking OUCH moment where Harry and Anne are watching Fleetwood Mac singing Landslide, and he's mc-fuckin' losin' it, Anne's there comforting him, and if you're thinking that that moment is about Camille Rowe, uh, you ain't me, babe. (Clapback too for Rob being the one to write the iconic Louis is Lindsey, Harry is Stevie piece). Again, just my own onion, I tend to be okay holding more than one string in my hand (these two CAN break up and get back together, don't even get me started on babygate brainrot talk).

But I think my biggest issue with all of it is that for a lot of l*rries, you gotta be gold star or you're out (literally true in so many groupchats and discords): they've each only fucked one person, they've never broken up, never had a major fight, it's never been messy, never been open, listen, you bitch, they fought against the odds, and they won! And I don't doubt that they did, but this isn't AO3, so I also don't doubt that they might've fucked other people, broken up and gotten back together again, had some real messy stuff, most likely around being in an open relationship for a spell and dealing with unspeakable personal tragedy, in amongst regular human growth and discovery. That doesn't make them bad people, it doesn't mean they aren't back together (and it doesn't even mean I'm right, I'm just a rando who has my own opinions about people I don't personally know, just like everyone else), but there's this fandom naivety about it, big-time fingers in ears la-la-la-la, where you're a bad person for even thinking it, so any cognitive dissonance just gets transferred to the woman involved, woman = bad (I'm simplifying, maybe it's bigger than that, but it's interesting to see how some blogs can't fucking shut about it, whereas others go about their biz--blogs in larr nation, I mean). And that's totally baby behavior, well, toddler behavior. I think a lot of babies can actually go with the flow, it's toddlers who melt down if someone moves their blankie.

Anyway, I'm wandering away from my point, which is that bearding isn't a fucking crime, especially if you claim to support your fave (or for that matter, anyone in the closet--it's what it's, as Louis's chest so wisely tells us). Your guy doesn't want to be or can't be out right now, and that's fine! Makes sense! Makes a lot of fucking sense, actually, these fans are invasive, bro! I just wish that if people were so worried about the state of the larry union, they'd maybe chill out a bit about the women involved. Maybe stop being an asshole. Maybe stop giving women asinine names because you think it's cute. Maybe stop complaining that someone's a narse because they're always "flaunting" [checks notes] that they're dating the person everyone says they're dating, or thirsting or chasing clout or whatever it is that Olivia does that is so god-awful to you on a personal level that you spend your day focused on it. (My fave: people who say she's forcing her latest ig story on them, when they're the ones following her, pausin' that little story, takin' that little screenshot, adding arrows and circles and text that manages to trash her for botox [but not Harry], trash her for dancing as if she isn't aware that everyone's watching [but not Harry], then reblogging all that garbage nonstop--it ain't rocket science, bb, she's not the one putting it anyone's face, you're literally the one following her and doing all this work! Unfollow, and set yourself free!)

Ahem. Anyway, yeah, so that's me, wondering why people spend so much time hating on people who are literally giving you the proof that you seem to need, but shirts work, too, I guess! Harder to hate a shirt, or project your self-hatred onto it, maybe? Makes u think.

#harry styles #probably more info than you wanted lmao #but it really does grind my gears #and i'm honestly so glad i'm not alone in it #i don't have more than a foot in that fandom #and the foot i have there is with people who don't spew that kind of bile #must suck to have that hosepipe in your face all day #unfollowwwwwwwwwwwwww i say

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sexydreamgirl · 2 years

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have you ever manifested a sp? how did it go?

I initially was and I got movement which was so fun to see but as I was working on my self concept more and more I got over him... LMAO

It was a little tough! One of the last times we spoke I was on the phone with him and he was telling me all about how he was seeing this other girl and how they went out and did this and made out and got frisky together and whatever other bs and I was reminding myself the entire time that I should live in the end so I tried my best to not be affected by what he said. As it turned out, I became the queen of ignoring the 3D and I also managed to get rid of my intrusive thoughts about them which I spoke about in another post. I persisted internally about us and how they didn't work out etc. and over the next few days he told me that it wasn't going so well and he wasn't feeling it and I was all like ":) all I do is WIN!". Like listen if I was able to persist and get movement while having the most unfavorable circumstance ever (one-on-one in-depth discussion about him being intimate and spending time with another girl) thrown literally right in my face then so can y'all!

So yeah it was definitely working but I've moved onto better things and now i'm plotting to manifest celeb sp :*

#personal

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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years

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Helloooo! I've recently seen Fem Samatoki Art! Dunno if this will be accepted or not but can you do both,Male and Female Samatoki having a threesome with their gf in an retail shop changing room!? O//O 🥵🥵❤❤❤🙏🙏🙏

galaxy brain (/▽＼*)｡o○♡ i’ll be honest i was 👌 this close to using -chan and -kun but i thought of something else so just go with it ٩(♡ε♡)۶

DNI with this post if you’re under 18!

You don’t remember how you ended up sandwiched between your partners in this changing room, you don’t remember what you came in for at first, and you couldn’t even remember what clothing store you were in anyway. There was somehow a perfect amount of space for the three of you to fit into, despite your position.

Time was completely muddled but you felt you had been craving their touch for way too long before now. All you knew was the harsh rub of carpet against your knees, as Sama finally pushed his length inside of you. He ran a warm hand down your back, giving you enough time to adjust while he took in the sight. Knowing that they both had a full view of this risky endeavour sent a shiver down your spine a moan up your throat. The concern of being in public was the last thing on your mind.

Hey, at least everyone would know that you had the best lovers in all of Yokohama!

As he heard your delightful moan, Sama clicked his tongue at you, “You’re enjoying this that much? Shoulda known – you’re always gonna be our nasty little plaything, aren’tcha?”

Usually he would cover your mouth with one hand when you got frisky in public, but your mouth was preoccupied with pleasing Toki, who was just as soaked as you were. She was sat on the small seat in the changing room with her tight leather skirt hiked up over her hips and holding one thigh up to her chest. She came out without panties just for today, knowing that something like this always happens. Not only was this situation all too familiar but you knew how to please her just as well. When you would do something right, Toki would gently squeeze her soft thighs against your head and rake her nails ever so slightly across your scalp – never hurting you, but it was a silent reminder of who was in charge.

“Heh,” Toki whined as she lifted her leg a little higher, giving you better access to continue lapping up and down at her folds, the wet sounds being louder than you would want in public, but it was too good to pass up. “You’re doing so good for us, just keep using that lovely mouth of yours to please me, okay?”

“Mm hmm,” you hummed.

She stroked your hair a few times, encouraging you to keep going when your stamina threatened to waver. You couldn’t see the playful smirks that Sama and Toki exchanged – yet a part of you felt that they were having too much fun, toying with you like this. The loud jangle of Sama’s belt was almost as loud as your heartbeat. However, it wasn’t as loud as the squeal Toki gave out when you pushed her over the edge.

You didn’t stop moving. You couldn’t.

Sama kept on railing you at an even more forceful rate than before, knocking your body forward, keeping your tongue trained on Toki’s swollen (and pierced) nub. Her head hit the wall as she gasped into the air while every muscle of hers twitched in overstimulation. Your own orgasm wasn’t far behind, and soon you were seeing stars and holding onto Toki’s thighs just to stay in place.

Sama felt you clench down tight around him: “Fuck, babe, just a little more. Can you hold on for me? C’mon, I’m right there with you. God, I love seeing my girls drunk in pleasure. We gotta fuck in public more –” And in the same way that Toki did, Sama threw his head back (you couldn’t see, but you knew he did) as he pushed himself as deep as he could, grinding his hips onto your behind with an iron grip on your waist.

Toki pushed your head away from her dripping core and pointed you to look at the mirror.

Everyone was a mess: Sama had shed his jacket and shirt, his toned waist shone beautifully with sweat, and he had to regain his breath after keeping the pace up for so long. Toki was relaxed against the flimsy wall of the changing room, her thighs still parted, and her slick dripping down the seat and onto the floor. You were the most dishevelled of them all, all of your clothes strewn about the changing room floor meant that every bite, mark, and lick were presented to the world. You caught a glimpse of Sama biting his lip as he came down from his high before patted your thigh to let you know he was about to pull out.

“Honey, do you feel alright to move now?” Toki said, helping you keep your balance while your legs turned to jelly.

“Yeah, I feel,” Light? You couldn’t quite describe this feeling, “…soft? Wait, no…”

It felt like your brain had turned into marshmallow and the world was made of cushions. The carpet on your knees started to feel especially soft. Maybe anything really was comfortable when you were with those two, or maybe…?

It felt just like your mattress. The changing room became hazy, but it wasn’t in pleasure. In fact, it began to fade away, more and more until…

“Babe?” A groggy voice from your side woke you up, “Are you alright?”

Ah. It was really too good to be real.

You steadily woke up, laying on your front, “Huh?”

Samatoki cuddled himself up next to you, “You were making some real interesting noises, babe. Don’t think I have to ask what you were – what we were – doing. Yeah?”

“Mm,” You turned to face him, stopping for a second to admire his bedhead and sleepy smile, “It was nice.”

“Well, you wanna continue? Tell me what we were doing, honey.”

“Hmm,” you could still remember the dream as if it had actually happened to you, even though it was a couple minutes after you woke up, “there was two of you… we were in a changing room… oh, and one of you was a girl. I don’t know if we can continue that, ahah.” You rubbed your eyes while propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Two… of me? Ya really can’t get enough of me, huh. Don’t move.” Samatoki got up and settled in-between your legs, lifting your hips so you be on your knees, just like in your dream. “S’weird you say that,” he pressed his hips into your behind – he was already hard, “’cause I had a dream like that too.”

“Oh.”

#hope you dont mind what i did with the ending #hypmic #smut #hypnosis mic #Samatoki Aohitsugi #samatoki x reader #reader insert #request #mad trigger crew #imagine

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jimkirkachu · 3 years

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For the WIP meme, just gotta know what "A Rowdy Morning" is all about! ;)

(a much too lengthy response below 😅)

Oh lol!! That's the working title for my potential sequel to "A Quiet Night," my only McSpirk story at this point. I've only gotten as far as a rough (...really rough) outline of what might happen. Since the original is about Kirk spending a night alone on the Enterprise while Spock and McCoy are at a science symposium thing, my intent was to have the sequel be a little villanelle of their reunion the following morning (in sort of an "opposite of part 1" vein, i.e. quiet/rowdy, evening/morning, you know). Perhaps the Blue Boys return to the ship earlier than expected, having both sensed Kirk's loneliness the evening before when they spoke to him... and then perhaps as he helps carry their luggage back to their quarters, they get a little suggestive/handsy/frisky in the turbolift... and then perhaps there's some wild playtime once they're safe in their quarters and Spock & McCoy have the opportunity to ravage Kirk as an "apology" for leaving him alone the night before... 😏😚🙈

I'm not really sure about most of the details, or how much detail it would go into (mostly since its predecessor is like a Teen rating, so I'd feel a little weird about making it an Explicit scene?). I jotted it all down kind of quickly after I first posted AQN a few years ago, and I hate to say it but it's basically just been collecting dust ever since then. However, the same can pretty much be said for the other 150+ pages of k/s ideas and starts and outlines and blurbs and so on that I have in the wings........ lol yeah. I have a problem 😆😂

Here's an itty bitty excerpt from what exists so far:

Kirk chuckled and started walking to the nearby turbolift, gesturing with his head for them to follow. As the scientists fell into step with him, Kirk said, his voice as jaunty as his gait, "There's nothing to make up for, and nothing to apologize for. You boys think I can't handle a single night without the sounds of your bickering lulling me to sleep?"

McCoy and Spock regarded each other with feigned innocence as Kirk turned around in the turbolift and grabbed the handle straight back from the door.

"Come on," Kirk said, his hazel eyes sparkling with his constant good humor. "The turbolift won't wait all day."

Silently obeying, Spock and McCoy stepped in and took the grips on either side of Kirk. They looked pointedly between one another and their captain, who seemed to suspect something from their conspiratorial gazes. The doctor grinned just as the doors slid shut.

Half a minute later, when the turbolift doors opened on deck five, Captain Kirk's hair was wildly disheveled, his cheeks were flushed a vibrant red, and he was biting down on his bottom lip in a futile attempt to hide his smile. His first officer and chief medic flanked him quietly, standing tall, facing straight ahead, and looking just about as indifferent as if they were watching one of those periodical Earth news bulletins narrated by the most monotonous commodore in the fleet.

Lol I don't even know 😂😂 Thanks for asking about it though!! And sorry it took me like a month to respond!!! 👀🙊💜

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