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misted-buttercup-enjoyer · 3 months

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Flowey on a date with temmie?

Flowey tries his best to be a gentleman. Bud ends up killing her because of her annoying woice.

Flowey then resets to the beginning of the date thinking he can forsure do it the 3. Time.

*claws my way out of a dirt hole clutching a oneshot like a lifeline* hey guys! sorry I went missing mysteriously. Anyway, loved this prompt, here ya go @pomegranate29, and don't worry my esteemed mutual @ihonestlydunnowhattocallmyself, yours is great too and I'll make sure to write it soon.

Sorry for any typos, I proofread it once or twice so it should be all right. I decided to include the Green Soul even though they probably wouldn't have met Flowey, creative liberties and such.

~~~

“What do you mean, you ‘arranged me a date’?!”

Daisy, the brown-haired human child with a green soul Flowey was allies with, giggled and nodded. “With Tem!”

“Why on Asgore’s green earth would you do that?” asked Flowey, frustrated. Daisy may be his ally, as well as the one in control of the save/load power at the moment, but he definitely felt like strangling them with his vines right now.

“I won’t want you to be lonely when I leave the Underground,” Daisy answered with a wink.

“Right, right…’when you leave the underground…’” Asgore had always said it was the thought that counted in a gift–for instance, he insisted he appreciated the thought while almost dying of buttercup poisoning–but Flowey thought that advice was kind of rot. “Daisy, I’m going to stand her up.”

“What! No!” Daisy grumbled. “In fact, I’m going to be your escort, chaperone, and waiter just to make sure you attend this. Just try to be a gentleman, all right?”

Try to be a gentleman. Okay, Flowey didn’t mind acting a part. ‘Gentleman’ sounded pretty grown up. Trying to suppress a certain Asriel-ish feeling where his chest would be, Flowey just nodded. “Okay.”

“Wow,” Daisy marveled. “I thought you were going to need much more convincing.”

…

Flowey could tell right away that Daisy was happier than they had been since falling down here and getting a bounty placed over their head. Maybe that's why Flowey didn’t kill Tem as soon as she walked into the room–to satiate his enthusiastic little ally.

Besides, he was trying to be a gentleman. He gave Daisy a quick cue, and they took off his hat for him in a gesture of respect. “Ma’am,” Flowey greeted.

“Oi! Me TEMMIE! Welcom to TeM DAte!”

“Thanks,” answered Flowey.

Daisy clapped their hands excitedly. “Let's start a conversation!”

Tem looked at Flowey expectantly. Flowey realized he was expected to give a conversation prompt. “Okay, geez, uh…Okay. Let's say everyone in Tem village was put in an arena and forced to kill each other. Who would be the last one standing?” It was an excellent prompt, one Chara had once given that made Toriel scowl.

Tem thought hard. “HmM…TeM thincs it wuld b…TEM!!!”

“Which one?” asked Flowey.

“U now…TeM!!!”

“BUT WHICH–ugh, fine.” Daisy had shot Flowey a warning look. “What weapons would they use?”

“TeM wEpOns!!!” answered Tem enthusiastically.

“Stabby or sharpy or other?”

“TeM!”

Flowey lost his temper. “There’s no such thing as Tem weapons! I would know if there were! I've killed all of you thousands of times with thousands of weapons and I've never once come across ‘tem’ weapons!!!”

Tem started sweating and comically slid out of frame. “Tem got uncomfortable and left,” Daisy explained, crestfallen.

“Thank the angel that's over,” muttered Flowey.

“I’ll reload,” Daisy decided placidly. “Let's try again.”

“WAIT! NO NO NO–”

…

Besides, he was trying to be a gentleman. He gave Daisy a quick cue, and they took off his hat for him in a gesture of respect. “Ma’am,” Flowey greeted.

“Oi! Me TEMMIE! Welcom to TeM DAte!”

Daisy smiled. “Water?” they offered.

“GrAPe JUICE!!!1!” answered Temmie. Daisy nodded, filled up Flowey’s glass without him asking (he didn’t even have hands) and hurried to retrieve grape juice.

Tem began telling Flowey a lengthy and surprisingly poetically worded anecdote of the story of how, in her childhood, she had found a seashell in Waterfall, swapped it for bread, then gave it to a starving orphan who needed it more. The voice was high-pitched and gurgly, grating against Flowey’s nonexistent ears until cartoon smoke came out of them. Unable to stand it a single second more, (plus it would be interesting to see how Daisy would react to returning to the room to find Temmie dead,) he made short work of strangling her to death while her comically wide eyes stared into his soul, shocked, before dusting.

Daisy walked back in and gasped, dropping the juice. “Flowey!” they exclaimed rebukingly. “What did you do?”

“I killed her,” answered Flowey, somewhat sheepish despite himself. Daisy frequently had that moral affect–not just on Flowey, but on everyone. Now they were staring at the dust and beginning to cry.

“Stop crying,” Flowey said crossly.

“It’s ruined,” the seven-year-old sobbed. “Everything is ruined. Temmie wouldn’t have died if I didn’t arrange the date.”

“You’re forgetting that you have the save/load ability,” Flowey returned.

“But I saved right before we came inside,” sniffled Daisy. “I’d al-already arranged the date…”

“Then just–” Flowey sighed, trying to figure out how to stop their crying. “Just do this again, okay? I won’t kill her again.”

Daisy pursed their lips and studied Flowey’s expression. They wouldn’t find their answer there, Flowey knew–he pulled an Asriel smile on the child, who finally decided to reload.

…

Besides, he was trying to be a gentleman. He gave Daisy a quick cue, and they took off his hat for him in a gesture of respect. “Ma’am,” Flowey greeted.

“Oi! Me TEMMIE! Welcom to TeM DAte!”

“So, do you come here often?” asked Flowey finally as Daisy watched expectantly.

“TeM live here…EVeRY DAY!” answered Tem.

“Right, right.” Flowey nodded. “So, er, what are your hobbies?”

“cARDBOARD!”

“That’s a noun…”

Temmie rose from her seat. “I wiL shOW u!!!!” Leading Flowey behind the counter of the Tem shop, Daisy following close behind. Temmie pressed a brick. Slowly the wall rearranged itself into a door frame. Impressed, because he hadn’t found this secret yet, Flowey entered the dark room.

“LIGHT!” screamed Temmie. The lights turned on. Dozens of intricately carved, flat cardboard statues crowded the room. Daisy gasped in delight and even Flowey drew in a breath at the beauty of Tem’s statues. Waterfall, Snowdin, Hotlands. The Ruins’ door. Cutouts of things that only existed on the surface. Symbols and trinkets. And everyone in the Underground! Flowey admired the detail of each statue, thinking about all the different ways he had killed these people happily, until suddenly he noticed Toriel and Asgore. And with them…a goat boy and a small human child with their face shoved in a bouquet of golden flowers, not visible. The iconic striped shirt was there, though. Flowey felt cold as he looked into Asriel’s eyes–Temmie had managed to capture a quality of bright kindness to a tea–then gazed intently at the Chara statue. Temmie must have copied directly off the palace tapestry, though where she had found it was a mystery. Asgore had had it taken down when he declared war on humanity.

“Flowey, look,” Daisy said urgently, gesturing wildly towards some of the statues, carved out of cyan, orange, blue, and purple. Why did Daisy care so much about these random–oh. These must be the other fallen humans.

Daisy stared, a fog of sad contemplation covering the usual sparkle in their eyes. “Do you really think I’ll be the exception? They all died. Why am I going to be different?”

“Meh.” Flowey responded. Honestly, Daisy was bound to have their soul reaped eventually. But he didn’t want to stress them out.

“cARDBOARD!” cheered Tem. Then she kissed Flowey.

Flowey started choking her with his vines in retaliation, but Daisy started yelling at him to stop, so he reluctantly put her down.

“Say thank you,” Daisy told him.

“Thank you,” Flowey told Temmie.

“uR wELcome!” Tem grinned as the pressure marks on her throat faded. “eNjoY tHE cArDBoARd!”

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nitw · 4 months

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erm uhhh uhmmmmmm

#leo.txt #oneshot #ut #undertale #isat #in stars and time

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side-of-honey · 1 year

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Heyy everybody how's it going. I've been working on this for MONTHS I'm so happy it's done ToT Basically it's a redraw of an old sketch I made a couple years ago except with like 3x more characters and much more effort :"D I am also the only person on earth who is able to name all of them but kudos if you can get close :) My own little love letter to a bunch of things I think are super cool <3

Koen(bnuuy) is from @dream-trail-rpg

Akari(camera) belongs to @twipsai

Also reminder that you MAY NOT REPOST MY ART ON THIS OR ANY OTHER SITE. Thanks.

Please dont like without reblogging or ill cry /hj

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faislittlewhiteraven · 3 months

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Me a few days ago: I think I need a break from my Undertale fanfic plotting for a bit as I'm getting a bit obsessive. I'll just go recharge by playing some random game... Hm this 'In Stars and Time' looks cute, let's try it out :)

Me a week later: ... ... ... Best mistake of my life holy crap..!

*Is now obsessing about two games instead of one and thinking of how I'd write a crossover between them XDDD*

#Undertale #In Stars and Time #ut #isat #indie game recommendation #apologies to the few people who follow me. I'm sorry/not sorry for all the fanart and comics I am reblogging and flooding your feed with #seriously ISAT is up there with Undertale Omori OneShot Night In The Woods and Hollow Knight in 'games that have consumed my brain'#best interplay of gameplay design to story beat/emotionally putting you in the main character's shoes I've ever played #also the main cast are so adorable it be rotting my teeth and brain <3 #video game recommendations #spoiler free

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siliconforbrains · 3 months

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Initially I was planning to write this in third person, but the ISAT demons took over and now I'm writing in second person from Siffrin's pov.

I'm having the time of my life over here actually I love writing this traumatized little shit.

#maxisrambling #isat #in stars and time #havent written in second person since my first ut phase i forgot how hilarious it can be #esp with isat's writing style #im working on a small what if wip for shits and giggles #to get a feel on how to write siffrin #its a 'what if the loops worked a little differently' kinda thing #idk how much im gonna develop it story-wise (shooting for a oneshot rn) but if anyone wants a snippet just lemme know /lh

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puhpandas · 6 months

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one of my headcanons for Gregory is now that post sb he has a huge ass scar that ran super deep when it first happeend, and it flares up with pain sometimes from the mimic. he got it during when he acted as bait to lure the mimic to shut it away and as he crawled out of the vent it got ahold of his ankle with its claws.

I already live for the concept that Gregory's face scar acts as like a symbol of hope for both him and vanessa that they're free, and Gregory broke away and then saved vanessa too and that really happened. and now his ankle scar stands for the reality that they locked the mimic away

not that his scar is a good thing. it hurts him sometimes and it was painful when it happened and scary for everyone involved. but it's another sign (and thing) that they survived and the mimic didnt. and that it fought but lost

#i actually have a oneshot planned about this #i rlly want to write ut #maybe soon #pandas.txt #pandas talks #thoughts #ruin #sb #the mimic #gregory #vanessa #3 star fam #gregory and vanessa

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nyat-a-cat · 3 months

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Ya know what would be funni? The next chapter of deltarune will have a wild west segment, im just saying imagine if they added a undertale yellow reference

#not oneshot #nyat a cat #UTY #ut yellow #deltarune

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yuckydraws · 7 months

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A lil oneshot that I'm thinking might become the start of an ongoing fic? We'll see.

Pairing: (HT Sans/reader) with hints of (UT Papyrus/reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Build Up My Heart

It’s fucking hot.

You wipe the sweat off your brow and sigh, looking at all the work you and your team accomplished today. You’ve finally finished the framing for the guest house this family of… rather odd skeletons, have hired you to build. And you understand why.

This already large, cabin-like home is practically overflowing with them.

In your time here, you’ve counted at least twelve.

Twelve people. In one home that, yes, is large, but can’t hold more than maybe five or six bedrooms.

It’s a wonder they haven’t ripped each other’s heads off - you’ve overheard a fight or two when you’ve taken your lunch on the lawn… and man do some of them argue.

When you first started working here, you swore you were going crazy. Almost every time you saw one of them it was one you’ve never seen/met before. Yet they all seem to look alike in some way, though you’ve kept that to yourself. Maybe that’s just how it is for skeleton monsters, who are you to say something ignorant like that?

Sans and Papyrus, the two skeletons you’ve spoken with the most, have been patient with every setback this project has had, though you can almost see the exhaustion in their sockets every time they pop over to talk progress. Makes you wonder if they’re the “peacekeepers” of the home.

But, then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be wondering too much. You’re just here to work, get the job done, and eventually move on to the next. Which will likely be another cookie cutter house in a subdivision.

… you’ll admit, though, that you’re going to miss seeing some of the wacky things they do.

And seeing that absolutely gorgeous garden of theirs.

It’s basically your dream. It packs an impressive variety of fruits and vegetables all neatly growing in raised garden beds. Marigolds are scattered about, likely to keep pests away, and there’s much more flowers where that came from - all of which look happy and content if their blooms are anything to go by. Whoever planned the garden, took convenience into account as well. An array of herbs grow right behind the decorative arch to the entrance of the garden. Just in case anyone just needs to grab a quick little something for a recipe.

Stars, you’d love to trade your apartment windowsill, grown out of an old milk jug, herbs for a lovely stroll to this garden. Who wouldn’t?

It also has a line of fruit trees lining the north side of the garden, likely so as not to block the sunshine. Whether those were here when they purchased the land and they planned the garden around it, or not, you wouldn’t doubt that whoever planned this garden would have the foresight for that.

Currently, ripe peaches hang from one tree, and apple blossoms grow on another. Makes you wonder what the other two trees produce, but they must not be in season at the moment with their bareness.

As if all that wasn’t enough, they also topped off this garden with strewn lights, stone pathways, and goofy gnomes.

A garden like this looks like a full time job, yet you’ve never seen who tends to it. You’ve seen some of the household members pick from it, but never who makes sure the weeds stay away, or who manages the more sensitive plants.

You wonder who it is.

“Hey, didn’t ya hear?” A voice calls you from your thoughts. You pry your gaze away from the garden and meet your coworker’s gaze. “It’s quittin’ time.”

“Yeah, I heard.” You confirm, slipping your gloves off. Not that those gloves protect your hands from the rough calluses littering your palms, but they do help them feel less sore at the end of the day. “The boss wants me to meet with those skeletons to go over the next step.” You thank whatever is up there that you actually have an excuse for your daydreaming this time.

“Right, I forgot that you’re a bigwig supervisor now.” He teases. You roll your eyes, that title hardly means anything yet. “Well, we’re all meetin’ at Al’s for drinks, if ya wanna join later.”

You would rather not.

“We’ll see, thanks Ron.” You neither accept nor decline. He gives somewhat of a salute before slipping away with the rest of the bunch.

Slipping your hardhat off, you await the arrival of your boss, scrolling on your phone in the meantime. It’s not long until you hear the rumble of his truck pulling up, and you quickly pocket the device in your hands.

Out hops Ted, clipboard in hand and that aggravating smile on his face.

He’s nice enough, but something about him has always felt a little fake. However, playing nice with the boss was what got you this promotion, so you’re not about to jeopardize that now. Waving you over, he greets the skeleton brothers who approach him rather quickly. Must have been waiting just like you. Eager wouldn’t begin to explain how much they want this project to move along.

You catch the tail end of greetings, shaking both Sans and Papyrus’ hands as you’re formally introduced (though, you’ve already had multiple conversations with them while working). Your boss cracks some jokes that you half laugh along to, before he finally gets down to business. Listening intently, and chiming in when necessary, you learn what you already knew. Plumbing, HVAC, electrical, etc. needs to happen before you and your team can continue. It’ll be contracted out, yadda yadda yadda.

Just as you’re beginning to think you have no reason to be a part of this conversation, it’s… over. Yeah that was a waste of a half hour, though you suppose you may be giving clients this talk at some point so it’s likely important to hear.

Ted wraps things up, shakes their hands again, and takes his leave. Sans slips away after that, claiming that he has something that he needs to get back to. You almost follow and take your leave as well, but Papyrus, who’s always been more social, gets you pausing.

“WELL, HUMAN, I SUPPOSE WE WON’T BE SEEING YOU FOR A LITTLE BIT.” He says. You’ve long since gotten used to his loud voice. You smile.

“Gonna miss me that bad?” You tease. Oddly enough, a light flush of orange rises to his cheekbones. Interesting

“W-Well… I ALWAYS ENJOY OUR TALKS WHEN I BRING OUT WATER.” He blurts. Ah, yes, the water. Ultimately unneeded, but very much appreciated.

“It’ll be a few weeks, at most.” You remind him. He beams at that.

“YES, I SUPPOSE YOU’RE RIGHT.” He agrees. It warms your heart that he seems to care even that much. It’s not often homeowners even talk to you and your crew, let alone be as kind as Papyrus has been. “WELL, YOU’VE HAD A LONG DAY, I WON’T KEEP YOU.”

You check your watch and wince.

“Yeahhh… I still got to run to the store to get some tomatoes for this recipe I’m making, so I should-”

“WE HAVE TOMATOES!” Papyrus all but blurts. You blink up at him. That orange flush is back.

Huh.

“We U-Uh… WE HAVE THAT GARDEN, I’M SURE YOU’VE SEEN IT!” You tilt your head at his words, not wanting to assume where he’s going with this - he is a client after all. “WE HAVE PLENTY, YOU SHOULD PICK SOME AND SAVE YOURSELF A TRIP.”

At any other jobsite, you’d have quickly refused… but something about his hopeful smile and genuinity of the offer has you softening like butter. Plus… you’d get to see that beautiful garden up close.

“You sure? I don’t want to overstep…”

“POSITIVE! I THINK BEAR IS IN THE GARDEN RIGHT NOW, HE COULD SHOW YOU WHERE THEY’RE PLANTED!”

“Bear?” You ask, wracking your brain for which skeleton he’s referring to. You haven’t been introduced to many of them.

“YOU HAVEN’T MET HIM.” Papyrus says with absolute certainty. “HE AVOIDS TENDING TO IT WHEN YOU GUYS ARE HERE WORKING.”

Oh.

“Well, are you sure he’ll want me wandering in there, then?”

“OH, I’M SURE HE’LL BE ALRIGHT WITH IT, HE JUST… HAS TROUBLE SOCIALLY. HE’S NICE, THOUGH.”

You hesitate. This Bear obviously enjoys gardening in the peace and quiet, who are you to interrupt that? However… it’s nearing 7pm and you’re ravenous. A trip to the store sounds like torture.

As if sensing your dilemma, Papyrus pivots, placing a hand on your shoulder and urges you back around the house. “I’LL GO WITH YOU, TO ASSURE YOU ALL IS WELL.” You just nod and follow along, both because it feels like nothing you do will change his mind, and because of your selfish desire to just get done with this day sooner.

Your workboots sink into the plush clover lawn as you both make your way across the backyard to the garden. Your eyes are captured once again, by said garden, and you almost don’t notice the rather large skeleton tending to the flowerbeds in towards the front until Papyrus speaks from across the short fencing.

“BEAR, IS IT ALRIGHT IF MY FRIEND HERE PICKS SOME TOMATOES?”

You look to where Papyrus is speaking, and the first thing you see is the gaping hole in this skeleton’s head.

Holyfuckisheokay?? How-

You look to Papyrus in concern, but see him just… smiling down at you? Confused, you look back to this skeleton, crouched behind a garden bed and lock eyes (eye?) with the bloated, bright red eye-light filling the socket that isn’t scarred from his head wound. You… can’t tell what he’s thinking, with that blank expression of his.

But seeing as this is apparently normal for him, you’re now worried you’ve offended the guy.

Maybe magic helps monsters survive the seemingly unsurvivable? It’s not like he has any internal organs in his skull… maybe that’s why-

You’re pulled from your thoughts as this apparent behemoth stands up.

Oh.

Oh my.

You’re beginning to understand why he’s called ‘Bear’. He’s certainly a bear in every sense of the word. Large, imposing, intimidating… and did you mention huge?? Now, you aren’t small. You’ve kept up in construction for almost a decade now and it shows… but you still feel like a twig, craning your neck to look up at him.

However, the dirt covered overalls he’s wearing, definitely takes away from some of his initial intimidating demeanor.

“... sure.” He rumbles, blank expression still giving no clue to where his mind is.

Holy fucking baritone-

Papyrus pats you on the back and beams at Bear.

“THANK YOU! I’M GOING TO START ON DINNER, OKAY?” You numbly nod, trying to force your thoughts away from where they want to go. “SEE YOU IN A FEW WEEKS, HUMAN!” Tearing your eyes away from Bear, you wave back to Papyrus and watch him retreat into the home. You wait until he’s inside to take in what you hope is a subtle deep breath.

You about leap into the air, when you turn around and find Bear right behind you, at the entrance of the garden. Clutching your chest, you remind yourself to relax. How’d he get there? And so quietly, too…

And you swear you see this giant quirk the smallest of smiles at your jumpiness.

He thinks he’s funny, huh? Asshole.

You stare up at him, flushing and definitely not pouting. “Ah, uh, thanks for letting me steal some tomatoes, you’re saving me a trip to the store.” You decide to be polite. After all, you were the one to gawk first, perhaps you deserved a bit of payback.

He just grunts.

And you both just… stand there. After a few moments of silence, you speak up.

“So… where are they?” You inquire, glancing around at what you can see of the garden, but it’s hard when you have a seven foot wall of solid skele-man right in front of you.

“where are… what?” He asks.

You tilt your head. He just said…

“The tomatoes?” You try, maybe he spaced out when Papyrus asked him if it was okay… and when you just mentioned them a second ago?

He seems to recall something, if the twitch of his bone brows are to say much. Nodding, he turns and lumbers through the rows of flowerbeds. Assuming that’s an invitation for you to follow, you rush to fall into step behind him and his large strides… but, you quickly fall behind as you start to admire the garden’s beauty up close. Your steps slow as you stroll past the growing cauliflower plants. These can be incredibly hard to grow… how did he…?

You gingerly touch one of the leaves, and look up to Bear, who’s stopped and turned to look at what’s keeping you.

“How do you get these to grow so well?” You ask, smiling excitedly at him. He blinks, large shoulders relaxing a bit, as if he was expecting you to ask something else.

He reaches into his overall pocket, and slips out what looks like a very well-loved notebook. You watch curiously, but patiently as he opens it and flips through it. You’re unsure what the notebook has to do with his answer but you’re willing to wait and find out.

He pauses on a page and looks back to you, seeming to ponder something before deciding ‘fuck it’, as he approaches you and hands the book to you. It’s got various dirt stains, and some pages have been taped back in where they’ve come loose, so you treat it with care as you take it from his grasp. And there, on the page you see notes in small, neat handwriting. Research notes, with drawings and everything. The topic being the little cauliflower plant you’re standing next to.

Some of it seems to just be information taken from the internet and put in short form, while others seems to be from actual trial and error. You skim his writing, noticing that he’s scratched some things out but towards the end, he seems to have figured out the perfect schedule for the plant to thrive.

You’re tempted to flip through the book and read more, but you refrain. That seems like an invasion of privacy.

“Wow, that’s really cool that you go as far to take all these notes. You must really enjoy this, huh?” You ask, handing it back to him. He stares at it in his hands for a moment, before putting it back in his pocket.

He just nods.

“Not much of a talker?” You tease lightheartedly, trying to see if you can get any sort of… anything out of this guy other than blank staring and slightly intimidating silence.

He shrugs, and turns back around, leading you again.

But you’re not done.

“You’ve really built something beautiful here, ya know?” You continue. He just keeps walking. “This is amazing! It could almost be considered a small farm! Though, I guess with all your housemates to feed, it’s just a garden, huh?”

Still no answer, but you swear he starts walking a little faster if the way you have to almost jog to keep up is anything to go by.

“The flowers too? Man, this must be a full time job that, I’ll be honest, I’m a little jealous of! I’d be in here all day if I was able to! This is absolutely gorgeous, Bear! Do you take care of this all by yourself? You really have a talent, I hope you know that.”

Suddenly Bear stops, leaving you to walk right into his back… which given his height means you faceplant right into his spine. He barely budges, yet the force of it knocks you on your butt. You grunt and rub at your smarting nose. Damn, this dude is solid.

His red light stares down at you, from the corner of his good socket. He doesn’t apologize, or offer you a hand, just simply points to the tomato plant in front of him.

“... tomato.” He mutters, then takes his leave, stepping over your sprawled legs and heading back to the flower bed he was working on.

… huh, you could’ve sworn, you saw the faintest hints of blue on his cheekbones.

Chuckling to yourself, and once again, thinking that these skeletons are silly, you pick yourself up and dust off your pants. Not that. You really need to dust off your already dirty work clothes, but it feels right.

You lean over the tomato plants in question, finding quite a little variety in the garden bed. Roma, cherry, black krim, campari - and those are just the ones you can name. Dinner in this house must be full of all the most delicious, fresh produce.

Once again, you’re a little jealous.

You pick a few ripe and tasty looking romas, and call it good. While you’d love to experiment with some of the others, this was a kind offer from a friend and given to you by an acquaintance, you’re not about to take advantage of either of them. Holding your goods protectively to you, you wander back to the entrance of the garden, where Bear is once again knelt in front of one of the flowerbeds, tugging at some stubborn looking weeds.

He glances at you as you approach him. You hold up your three tomatoes and grin at him. “Thank you for these, you saved me a trip to the store!” A nod is all you get. “And… speaking of the store, I feel bad just taking these, I have cash?”

That gets him to fully turn his skull to look at you, and you take that as a yes.

“This is about a pound, I’d say, so how about I just give you an even $5?” You offer. Yet again, he just stares.

“... I mean I can look up how much it is at the store or you can give me a price too, if you’d rather…” You ramble, feeling a little awkward under that stare of his. You just met the guy today, and he’s proving to be extremely hard to read.

You’re about to just reach into your pocket and pull out a $10 (way too much, but you’d pay anything to get out of this awkward silence), when your stomach growls rather loudly. His stare moves to your belly.

“Ah, uh, yeah it’s dinner time, huh?” You try to joke it off. His light flits back to your face, and finally, he just waves you off.

“... You don’t want money?” You ask tentatively. He shakes his head.

“... go home.” He rumbles, yet his tone isn’t rude, “go eat.” He adds. Your shoulders release tension you didn’t even quite realize was there and the awkwardness finally fading, and you offer him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, it’s been a long day. I really appreciate it.”

He hums.

“... and I hope you know you don’t have to wait until our team leaves to tend to your garden. This is your home, we’re just working here.”

He raises a skele-brow at your words, looking unimpressed as he gestures to the sizable hole in his skull. You hold back a wince as you remember your reaction. You know the guys you work with, and you also know that your reaction is probably going to be the most tame one he gets.

“Right… I uh, I’m really sorry for how I reacted, I thought it was a recent injury and I was worried you needed an ambulance or something cause humans can’t survive something like that, but that was really insensitive.” You murmur. His stare seems to slightly soften at that, but you barely notice that as an idea pops in your brain. Instantly, you brighten. “Wait here! I’ve got an idea, I will be right back!”

And with that, you start a careful jog to your old, beat up truck - not wanting to drop your precious produce. Once there, you deposit your small bounty into your upside down hardhat to keep them from rolling around, and then pop open your rather dirt-covered glove department. You’ve never really found the point in cleaning your truck that often when you just dirty it everyday after work. Digging through the mess of papers there, your hands find that knit fabric they were looking for.

“Ah hah!” You exclaim excitedly, closing your vehicle’s door and rushing back around the house to the garden that you left Bear at. He’s since moved on to a different flowerbed, but no amount of kneeling would hide that big frame of his and he’s rather easy to spot because of it.

Hearing the crunches on your loud footsteps in the gravel, he turns, seeming a little surprised that you actually came back.

You hold up the beanie in your hand, grinning at him as you let him connect the dots, it was one of your first crochet projects… and you misread the amount of links you’d need for it, resulting in a beanie that was ridiculously large for your head. You had meant to toss it or take it apart for the yarn, but it found its way into your glove department, and that’s where it’s stayed for almost a year.

However, it seems to be the perfect size for this skeleton giant in front of you.

“Wanna see if it fits?” You ask, stepping closer. In your excitement, you don’t connect the dots that his skull might be a no-touching zone, and reach to slip it on. He quickly leans away from you, eyeing the beanie warily.

“Oh, right. Sorry, here.” You hold it out in an offer. He hesitantly takes it, staring at it for a long moment before glancing up to you. “It’ll stretch, if you’re worried about it catching those edges.” You assure him, not sure how sensitive the area around his injury is, but figuring it’s better safe than sorry.

After a few more moments of silence (that are beginning to feel a little less awkward), he slowly and carefully slips the beanie on his skull. He makes sure to stretch it and hold it a little ways away on his injured side of his skull, and soon it’s sitting nicely on his head.

A perfect fit.

“There! Now it’s hidden!” You say. He tilts his head. “I know it’s not fair that you can’t just waltz out here in broad daylight while we’re here without worrying about feeling judged, but it’s also not fair to have to hole yourself inside and wait until we leave to do your thing. I mean, it’s almost dark and you’ve got a lot more to do, and these string lights only illuminate so much.” You explain.

He nods, slipping it off and moving to hand it back to you, as if he’s not aware it’s a gift.

“Keep it, think of this as a trade for the yummy tomatoes! Plus, I think you look cute in it.” You say, smiling again as you see the slight blue return to his face. “If you decide you don’t like it, feel free to do whatever you’d like with it, it’s not like it’ll fit my head anyways.” You say with a little laugh.

A low rumbling noise escapes Bear. You tilt your head, and it doesn’t click until you see the smile on his face and his shoulders bouncing slightly. He’s chuckling at you.

You ignore the growing warmth on your face at hearing more of that very attractive voice of his, and let out a few little giggles of your own, closing your eyes as you do.

So, you’re none the wiser when Bear slips the beanie off of his head and moves closer to you in that silent way he does. It’s not until he plops the article onto you that you sputter and open your eyes, only to be met with your lashes brushing against the yarn and your vision being hindered by the way the beanie practically reaches the bottom of your nose. Reaching up, you lift it up and find Bear grinning at you.

“... no, it doesn’t… does it?”

He’s making fun of you. Again.

Jokingly pouting, you slip it off and toss it back at him, where it bounces off his chest harmlessly and falls into his lap. He guffaws at that, his little chuckles turning into a deep belly laughter.

It’s infectious, and soon, you’re joining in again.

It’s not until your stomach makes your hunger loudly well known again, that he sobers, looking serious once again.

“... you need… to eat.” He reminds you.

You smile sheepishly, and try not to be too disappointed at having to leave. You were just getting him outta his shell a bit!

“Yeah, I do. Your dinner will be ready soon, too, I bet.” You say, shifting your weight on your feet as you stall just a moment longer. “I uh, hope to see more of you.”

He just stares again, but there’s a sharpness missing in his light.

“Goodnight, Bear.” You say, pivoting to take your leave. He doesn’t say anything right away, and you just assume he won’t, given what you’ve learned about him today.

But as you start to walk back to your truck, you hear a quiet, “goodnight.” from Bear. You smile again, turning to give him a little wave that you don’t see if he returns as you round the corner of the house.

#yucky writes #yucky yaks #oneshot #drabble #but not really #undertale #ut papyrus #papyrus #horrortale #ht sans #bear #papyrus/reader #htsans/reader #if i do make this an ongoing fic it'll be a reverse harem #i deffo have ideas but I still gotta actually ya know. plan a plot if it's gonna be ongoing so we'll see!

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catthattalks · 3 months

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Oooh I replayed Undertale Yellow neural run and Flowey realizing, how odd it is Clover knows how to go through the Underground, even though they should not remember anything... and side glancing the player in the boss fight...and immediately ending the fight...

#i love games where 'we' are acknowledged in the game #the horror of realizing there is somehthing staring at you but you don't know w h a t #one reason why i love ut and oneshot so much #and im glad uty did the same thing #uty #undertale yellow #.rambling

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im-sorry-what-ii · 5 months

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Went ice skating for the first time in a while today and all I'm thinking is icemav ice skating au

#the ICEman please why havent i seen this #genuinely a couple hours ago i was so motivated to write this #now its midnight and im kinda not #BUT #im seeing two ways this could go #professional ice skating au which im not skilled anough or educated in the ways of iceskating enough to write #orrr oneshot good skater helping bad skater learb #yall know what i mean here the fluff the cute the falling over onto one another on the ice #ik someone has done this i just know #again #ICEman its just low hanging fruit #but if someone knows the professional iceskating au type thing #lmk #or if anyones writing ut pleas i could be your biggest supporter rn #ok ramblw over #icemav #top gun #side note it turns out im not a good ice skater😔

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spadesmain · 9 months

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Hey guys sorry for being inactive AGAIN I’m starting to get a little more tired out than usual just like before ;(

( here are some sketches to make up for it )

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misted-buttercup-enjoyer · 8 months

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UT Month Day 10: Snowdin

“Here we are in Snowdin!” Chara did jazz hands while presenting Frisk with the small settlement. “When monsterkind first ventured forth from the Ruins, some monsters with thick warm fur to keep them safe from frostbite settled down among the white powdered snow. How is it snowing down here? We don’t know. And we don’t need to! I still want to, though.”

Yes, on the subject of I– Frisk thought. But as usual, Chara kept talking instead of elaborating about themself, at all. Not that Frisk was going to pressure Chara to talk about things they didn’t want too, but for some reason Chara rarely lingered on themself or their feelings, focusing most of their sentences on Frisk. “You” was prized highly over “I.”

“Now,” muttered Chara, “Listen closely. Monsters come in all different shapes and sizes and subspecies. Some are more humanoid than others. They’ll probably think you’re just another monster, at least in town. Or, so I hope. Be careful, though.”

Frisk nodded, tracing their fingers across the “Welcome to Snowdin!” sign before entering the store. A small ringlet of silver bells hung on the door, clinking welcomingly as Frisk stepped into the cozy wooden room. Behind the counter stood a purple bunny monster. Frisk waved, stomach fidgeting a bit with nerves. Would this monster lady fight them right-here-right-now if they were recognized as human?

“Hello traveller, how can I help you?” she greeted them cheerily. Chara gave a sigh of relief and Frisk grinned.

“Can I–have one–of those?” requested Frisk, pointing to the warm, sugary-looking, bunny-shaped cinnamon bun in the display case.

“Certainly, if you can pay for it,” agreed the store lady, politely ignoring Frisk’s stutter as she bagged up the cinnamon bunny. Frisk rooted around their pocket, praying they could afford some food. Lucky for them, they had just enough to pay for it!

“There goes the last of our money,” commented Chara apprehensively. “Well, you do need to eat…”

Frisk started digging in right away, heedless to the sugary stickiness getting on their face, sweater sleeves, and even in their hair. Their young age led to messy eating.

“So–what’s–some town–his–story?” asked Frisk.

The store lady didn’t seem to judge Frisk for their messy eating. “Think back to your history class…A long time ago, monsters lived in the Ruins back there in the forest,” explained the store lady. “Long story short, we all decided to leave the Ruins and head for the end of the caverns. Along the way, some fuzzy folk decided they liked the cold and set up camp in Snowdin.”

It’s just like you were telling me! Frisk thought at Chara. Chara nodded, as if listening for some detail they couldn’t find.

“Oh, and don't think about trying to explore the Ruins… The door’s been locked for ages. So unless you’re a ghost or can burrow through the door, forget about it!”

Chara, maybe we should try heading there! Most of the time in the books I’ve read or games I’ve played if there’s somewhere you’re told you can’t go to, you should go there!

“Frisk, remember? The Ruins was where Toriel lived. You just left there.”

Oh yeah. Frisk took another bite and chewed more slowly. I forgot what it was called.

“What should–I do–in Snow–din?” asked Frisk.

“You want to know what to do here in Snowdin? Grillby’s has food, and the library has information. If you’re tired, you can take a nap at the inn. It’s right next door–my sister runs it.”

“Oh, con–gratu–lat–ions!” stuttered Frisk.

“Having a sister isn’t really meant to be something you say ‘Congratulations’ for, just for social reference,” Chara noted absently.

Frisk nodded impatiently.

The store lady went on. “And if you’re bored, you can sit outside and watch those wacky skeletons do their thing. There’s two of ‘em. Brothers, I think. They just showed up one day and…asserted themselves. The town has gotten a lot more interesting since then.”

Frisk giggled. I know all about the skeleton brothers. Frisk shoved the last of their cinnamon bunny in their mouth and licked their fingers clean. They ran their tongue over their teeth and tried to squeeze out any remaining pieces of food. When they were satisfied that their mouth was finally devoid of all the syrupy deliciousness, for better or for worse, they asked, “How’s life?”

“Life is the same as usual.” For once, the store lady looked slightly discouraged. “A little claustrophobic. But…we all know deep down that freedom is coming, don’t we?” She smiled gently. Frisk tucked their dark hair behind their ears reverently as the store lady continued in a soft tone of voice. “As long as we got that hope, we can grit our teeth and face the same struggles, day after day…That’s life, ain’t it?”

Frisk nodded. Without a word they waved goodbye and exited the shop.

I feel bad for her, Frisk told Chara.

Chara nodded, looking a tad uncomfortable.

I feel guilty, added Frisk.

Chara flitted their gaze over Frisk’s face and sighed. “Listen to me. Look at me and listen to me. I never thought in a million years I’d be saying anything like this, but…”

They referenced themself directly almost five times, marvelled Frisk. I think that’s a new record!

“It’s not your fault for being born human.” A brief pause, a deep breath from Chara. “You are not obligated to give your soul to anyone or any cause if you want to keep living. You do not belong to a prophecy. You belong to yourself. You. Don’t. Owe. Them. Anything. They’re trying to kill you. The situation has changed.”

I guess so.

“You know so. Now, who’s ready to explore Snowdin?!”

I’m ready to explore Snowdin!!!

“Good!”

#ut month 2023 #ut month #snowdin town #utmonth2023 #snowdin #undertale #undertale fanfiction #oneshot #fanfic oneshot #undertale oneshot #my fanfiction

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harper-collins · 9 months

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'Tis only a Nightmare... Right?

Cross-Posting this on Ao3, but a fun little weird oneshot, enjoy!

Cross sat down next to the window, quietly watching the rain outside. He wondered whether he made the right decision, all those years back. Had he chosen the right side? Sighing, he turned to look at the desk near the midst of his room. It held a book, one he’d been given by someone rather special to him.

Cross hesitantly stood up and walked towards the book. He grabbed it and sat back down in the chair next to the window and got comfortable before flicking it open. It was a photo album. Not many people had them now, especially with the electronic future they were heading towards, but these pictures were immortalised memories, and he could look at them whenever, as long he had the book nearby.

When he’d first been given the album, there had been a note inside. Cross had long since added it to the end of the selection of pictures. He examined every photo as he slowly went through the album. Pictures of him, and everyone in the bad sanses. Killer, Dust, Horror and Nightmare… With Error infrequently appearing in the backgrounds. He never enjoyed taking photos.

There were a few of Dust and Horror playing games, chatting with each other, some with Killer being there as well, being the ‘Murder Time Trio’ that they’d labelled themselves before Cross had appeared in their lives. Some pictures had them laughing, with Cross being awkwardly dragged in, the ball of anxiety he was looking panicked in the majority of his pictures.

There were a few rare ones of him genuinely laughing with a happy expression, or smiling. Yet, they were always taken when he wasn’t staring at the camera… He was either reacting to a joke or staring at someone in particular. That person being Nightmare. The Guardian of Negativity tended to blend in with the dark environment, so it was difficult to see him properly… With there only being a few pictures of him out in the open.

He stopped on a certain page, almost choking up in tears as he looked down at the picture in question. He and Nightmare, their first hug, immortalised in a picture. Cross had been going through a particularly rough patch, to the point he had been thinking of leaving them all behind and working by himself… Yet, Nightmare had grounded him, the trio had grounded him.

It poured a feeling of guilt into his soul as he remembered that was the exact reason he was here he was right now. He was living with the Star Sanses now, it hadn’t been his plan originally either. At first, he had just wanted to take a temporary leave, but getting lost in travelling mixed with the fact Nightmare knew he wanted time alone only made Cross feel worse until Ink found him.

He’d brought the monochrome to Dream, and he’d been in ‘lockdown’ ever since, with the other Guardian nursing his emotions. It reminded Cross greatly of the times he’d been in the Royal Guard and he’d been given anti-depressant medication to get through the days, especially when it’d gotten bad.

It was as if there was a barrier between him and the turmoil, the world and his emotions generally. He felt numb, but not to the point he couldn’t feel anything. Realising he had been going on a tangent he turned back to the photo album on his lap, only to realise he’d left purple tears across the album. Thankful that the photos were covered in plastic, Cross wiped the page with his sleeve, which was already wet from the continuous repeat of this exact task.

He then briefly thought back to how he’d gotten the photo album. Killer had tried first. He’d come waltzing over to the Dream sanses base, trying to get inside to chat with Cross in particular, yet he’d been denied entry and almost fought Blue as a result of trying to push his way into the building. Killer had only given them mercy due to the fact they were helping Cross… Or at least, he presumed that was what Nightmare was telling him.

Next had been Horror, for his kind nature, and continuous worry for the monochrome. Yet, Ink had been in charge that day, and he’d been sent back to the castle without much argument. It was then that Nightmare himself had come into play during the night. He’d appeared in the night and left the book on his desk, ready for him to find it in the morning with the note intact.

Cross stared at the photo again, with him and Nightmare. It felt as though someone, something was trying to tell him something, through the wall. As if a part of him was screaming at him to listen, but nothing could be heard. Cross began to let his phalanges trace over the page, as he wondered what to do. Close the album there, like he always did, or go further this time. Explore further.

Despite it being such a simple task, the action felt perilous, as if it was going to break him. Yet, this time, Cross couldn’t care less. As he turned the page, he saw something new, and reality came crashing down on him. It was him coming back from the star sanses. Cross had to do a double take around the room to check where he was.

But no, he was still supposedly in the room he’d been given by the trio. Hesitantly, Cross stood up, keeping the book in tow. He walked over to the door and pried it open. The door didn’t seem to enjoy that, but after Cross used a little more force than before, it opened up to… An unexpected scene.

It appeared to try and look like another hallway in Nightmare’s castle, but it was… Broken? Cross couldn’t think of the right word. Everything that usually littered the hallways, pictures, small cabinets, things on said cabinets… They were either broken or on the floor. Cross turned back to his room to see it very much looked different.

Feeling incredibly unsettled in himself, he turned towards the end of the corridor to see more mess. Quietly, the monochrome turned and closed the door to the room behind himself and began to walk down the corridor, wondering what on earth was going on. None of this made sense.

Walking down and towards the living room took a lot longer than normal, more because Cross was desperately trying to right what he could as he continued walking down the path. What would Nightmare think? Who could or would he blame the mess on? The monochrome wasn’t sure, but he wanted to limit the amount the Guardian got angry, in fear for both himself and his comrades.

When he did eventually find himself in the living room, he realised how normal it looked in comparison to everything he’d seen before then. As he continued to investigate, he saw someone lying on the couch, which got Cross fumbling his way towards them.

“Killer? Is that you? I’m so—” The word confused stayed on his nonexistent tongue as he stopped at the couch, entirely frozen. Parts of Killer were dusting away which only caused a shriek to rip out of the monochrome. All at once, there was movement. As Cross moved away, there was movement in the kitchen… And Killer moved.

The sound of thunder from outside rippled through the house which only caused the monochrome to feel twice as scared and confused as he was before, and Horror came into view, wearing an apron as if he had just come from cooking. Traditionally it made sense, but Cross knew that Horror never wore an apron, he didn’t care about the stains that might come from cooking for all of them.

Killer sat up, looking in Cross’ direction as Horror came closer. “This is your fault Cross, why didn’t you stay with us?” The two spoke in unison, causing Cross to stumble backwards and hit the back of his legs on the coffee table. Suddenly the world moved as the monochrome fell on the floor, hitting his head in the process.

“No, I wanted to come back! I didn’t want to leave you—”

“But you left us, and look what’s happened…” The two spoke before Killer began to talk by himself, his voice haunting in a way that made Cross almost scream. “I’m dying Crossy… If you were there, I wouldn’t have been hurt!” He screeched, walking closer as the monochrome backed himself into a corner.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real,” Cross desperately told himself as he covered his eyes and whimpered. He heard Horror’s light laugh and then the sound of the two lunging towards him. He waited for a heaver skeleton on top of him, someone trying to rip his hands away from his face… But there was nothing. In fact, he couldn’t even feel the thing he’d backed into anymore.

Slowly, and shakily, Cross brought his arm away from his face, only to be met with Nightmare. His gaze was piercing and the monochrome shivered under the watchful eyelight. His tentacles were flicking behind himself, as if impatient.

“Finally, I thought you’d never wake up,” he snarkily spoke, unlike the Nightmare he knew, who put more care than that into the people he enlisted in his little group. “What…” Cross lightly mumbled to himself, only to have Nightmare turn back and stare daggers into him. “Stay in here. There is no need for you to free-roam,” he spat out, leaving the room.

Cross stared at the door for a long moment before getting out of bed. He turned towards the window to see the same rainy window that was at the Star sanses base… The room he’d been given. Shaking his head, not wanting to repeat what already happened, Cross grabbed the memory album left on the desk once more and left the room. Nightmare was nowhere to be found.

Everything the monochrome had fixed before was… Broken or on the floor again… Gulping, Cross opened the album and began to flicker through the memories, all the way to the ones he’d seen before. He continued to look through them, seeing memories and memories that he’d forgotten, happier memories.

Ones where they were on a day out, or ones where they were training with one another. There was also one where Cross and Nightmare were holding hands… Blushing lightly, he continued going through until he got to the last picture, with the note next to it. The last one was a picture of the trio watching, with Error in a portal watching. To the right of them, there was Nightmare, who had his tentacles curled around Cross’ bones as they kissed.

Looking up and around, he realised that he was not in the hallway of the castle anymore. In fact, he was in a separate, spare guest room in the castle he knew he hadn’t walked anywhere near. He was in front of a door, with a nice-looking bed behind it. But after what he’d experienced, he wasn’t about to sleep over it.

Taking a deep breath, Cross opened the door and stepped through, ignoring the blinding light that overtook his eyesight as he continued walking. That was… Until he blacked out.

#writing #cross! sans #nightmares gang #killer sans #horror sans #nightmare sans #this is so weird #like it turned from angst to horror-esc to weird during the writing of this #going to be a series of sorts #but probably wont be posting it all for a while #unless it gets super popular #but they're all just separate oneshots compiled into a series #ut aus

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