sir slippers trashhoodie mcbaggyshorts

[roleplayers-ink]

Send me 💬 and my muse will describe yours in three words.

[fontcomic-blog]

outbraves:

           …

        He… He doesn’t remember him.

   … What now? What does he do? How does he respond to that, to the fact that his big brother, the one person to always remain by his side  (  —— since he’d be discovered, natch  ), the only one to never judge him, doesn’t know who he is? Not once has he had to worry about being completely alone, for when everyone in the world abandons him, Sans will remain his constant. At least, he’s supposed to, but——— apparently, fate has other plans. He sits in that closet, dressed strangely, spooked out of his mind, and Papyrus has just… gone numb.

   Does it even matter if he does anything? This isn’t Sans’ brother trying to reassure him. Now, he’s just some stranger chasing after him, trying to talk to him when he, at this young and naive age, has likely learned not to talk to strangers. He might as well be the Boogeyman right now… unless he changes this around.

   “I DON’T… KNOW THE DOCTOR PERSONALLY,” he lies through his teeth. Who is ‘the doctor’? “BUT, I’M JUST LIKE YOU. I AM VERY CONFUSED, TOO, AND—— AND I’M ALSO A SKELETON!” His mandible quivers, and he wants, absolutely wants to just bust through the door and hug him, but he refrains from doing anything stupid.

           …     “— 💣✡ ☠✌💣☜📬📬📬 ✋💧 🏱✌🏱✡☼🕆💧📬”

〔α〕:: lιттle laв raт ::

*(Not personally... But, how else could he speak like that? Confused too, he didn’t sound so confused before. Wait! Maybe he was, maybe that was why that name had come up. And if he... was a skeleton? Did that mean he too was an experiment? Had the doctor made another without telling him? Questions begin to pile up behind his sockets and he pulls a hand back to rub knuckles over the ridges--even if it did little to nothing to soothe it.)

*(Hands fumble a bit, reaching up carefully with the mass of jackets and shoes still clinging to and slipping under his own shoes; fingers catching the side of the lock. And after a few moments of trying to get an actual grip he feels it click under his touch. Another few moments and he’s pushing a bit to grab the knob himself and give it a turn. Opening it a bit, he peers out. Still shy, ready to duck back in at any moment if need be.)

*(But, certainly more receptive to communicating, mouth a bit strained and turned down but softer around the edges. Pupils large and curious, almost child-like. Which was appropriate--because for now he was a child.)

“... ◻︎♋︎◻︎⍓︎❒︎◆︎⬧︎”

*(It was surreal, looking up at this stranger--Papyrus was bewildering. And yet, he finds himself gingerly stepping out more fully as his nametag swings a bit along with the labcoat.)

“♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎■︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎♓︎❍︎♏︎■︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎”

*(Surprisingly, he’s never had to introduce himself so it takes a moment for him to try and emulate what Papyrus has done before.)

“❍︎⍓︎ ■︎♋︎❍︎♏︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ⬧︎♏︎❒︎♓︎♐︎”

*(There was more to that but he’s been only called Serif for so long, that the rest of his name may as well not exist at all.)

[fontcomic-blog]

pxcifrisktic:

ACT: THINK ABOUT IT

The kid’s practically made out of Velcro. Clinging onto anything near by and snuggling into it. Frisk’s never toted about a blanket or a stuffed animal but it hardly matters because the friends she’s made are infinitely better. Even Papyrus stated that skeletons make for warm and cuddly friends. Sans is definitely cuddly but Frisk isn’t sure if it’s because of his plush hoodie or magic. 

It could be both or one or the other. Frisk finds that the soft fur of their mother is welcoming and plush. Toying with Toriel’s paw pads while lying next to her and poking at the claws with her talkative fingertips has become a past time of Frisk’s. 

“Mhm,” Frisk’s agreeable to his inquiry in spite of her believing he knows the answer.  

As if he needs to ask. “Ha,” they breathe out with a grin. Nose crinkles as she nods. As if he even needs to ask her that. 

〔Ω〕:: вeнιnd a ѕмιle ::

*(There’s yet to be a day that goes by where Sans understands how he deserves this kind of sweetness, but the best he’s managed is to return it without reservation. So, he reaches out to boop that cute nose crinkle with one finger, before wandering off with a little wave in her direction.)

“aight, let’s go sit ‘n cuddle. unless ya wanna lay down somewhere?”

*(Admittedly, he wouldn’t be opposed to the floor or really any normally uncomfortable surface. But, he’s not soft and squishy and Frisk would probably appreciate something softer. Maybe grass or carpet; on second thought probably grass. She’d much rather be outdoors than inside, and he’s never minded grass stains. Well, Papyrus might mind them, but there was always ways around it.)

[askthepandoranhero]

My pain is irrelevant. Your safety is more important.

[fontcomic-blog]

outbraves:

   He catches the faint clattering of shaking bones before the terrified SHRIEK shoves his attention elsewhere. He balks and rather stupidly allows his jaw to just hang. Never before has his brother turned him away like this, often the type to brush off concerns with melancholy response and a shrug. The tone of voice he has taken on is that of sheer HORROR, nigh as if his own life is in peril. The jiggling of the door knob stops; a shuddering breath is given. This isn’t right.

   “SANS———” What is that language? Why does he understand it? Why is he screaming? There are so many questions and not enough time to answer them. The poor skeleton can easily slip into shock, SOUL overloading with stress due to his environment. He’s well-aware of his plummeted HP; he cannot allow that to happen. He instinctively kneels by the door on one knee and, despite not being seen, tries to become smaller, less intimidating. Where has he used this kind of skill before?

   “IF YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE YOU ALONE, I WILL, BUT… PLEASE TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG? YOU’RE NOT—— EXACTLY… ACTING RIGHT??” The figurative gut twists into knots, and the words tumble from Papyrus’ mouth before he can even realize what he’s saying.

                “— ✋❄🕯💧 ⚐😐✌✡📬 👍✌☹💣 👎⚐🕈☠📬”

〔α〕:: lιттle laв raт ::

*(When the doorknob stills, for a moment he thinks the stranger has left. Only for him to speak again, and some more shoes get shoved aside as he burrows deeper into the mess to try and hide himself. For a moment, as his panicked mind tries to decipher those questions, he stills and squints fearfully at the door between them. And then, the static is returned.)

*(Understandably, he’s silent for a long moment. His shoulders are still tensed up and digging into the side of his skull. Only the Doctor spoke like that. How could anyone else know... Did this stranger, who called him brother, know the Doctor after all?)

“⬥︎♒︎□︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓□︎◆︎”

*(A brief pause, tiny hands fumbling before pressing against the door with faint little clicks.)

“♎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ &︎■︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎♍︎⧫︎□︎❒︎”

[fontcomic-blog]

NAME OF YOUR MUSE: Comic Sans Serif

ONE PICTURE YOU LIKE BEST OF YOUR MUSE’S FC:

TWO HEADCANONS YOU HAVE FOR YOUR MUSE THAT YOU NEVER TOLD ANYONE.

Sans actually despises almost all science despite his vast knowledge of the subject, retaining only a lingering interest in sci-fi and physics.

He also dislikes horror movies more than anything, and only watches the news for practical reasons. He prefers standup comedy, cartoons and the Disney films.

THREE THINGS THAT YOUR MUSE LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME:

Videogames, surprisingly. Leaning more towards puzzlegames and possibly childish games. He also tolerates some rpgs. It gives him something to do, and in games where he can successfully save the world... It helps.

Very rare instances of shopping, usually involving finding the absolute weirdest shirt in a store and buying it to add to his rapidly growing collection. Also, socks.

Sitting within eye-and-earshot of Papyrus and Frisk, or either separately and seeing them happy and enjoying themselves. Watching that is the best medicine he’s found for any case of depression.

SEVEN PEOPLE THAT YOUR MUSE LOVES:

Papyrus. Without question, his brother is Sans’ mainstay in the world as a whole. The first person to show him KINDNESS and to accept him, broken as he was after the event that sent him out of isolation. However much he enjoys messing with his brother, Sans would do anything to SAVE him, anything at all. No matter the consequences.

Frisk. There’s a degree of oddness surrounding their relationship, as Sans adores her deeply. Yet, he refuses to divulge much of his secrets, secrets she’s aware of. The RESETS, most notable of these. Others, more obscure... Beyond this, however, he cares deeply for her well-being and does his best to stand in as a parental figure when the need arises. Though, he much prefers simply following her around wherever she might go, and keeping her out of trouble. He’s terrified if he doesn’t keep her happy and sated she’ll RESET everything--no matter how many times he convinces himself Frisk isn’t like that... The fear persists.

Toriel. Possibly the kindest person he’s ever met, and with the same affinity for puns and tomfoolery as him. He loves and appreciates her dearly, gaining a very obvious bias and horribly large squish on her. Outside of his feelings, he finds Toriels company soothing and her PATIENCE nearly exceeds his own. Nearly. She’s soft and warm and positive, and he’d do anything to make her happy.

Undyne. She gave him one of his many jobs, and despite how boisterous and ill-perceptive she could be; by choice or simply short attention span... Her presence is a welcome change from the silence he was so very used to. Not to mention her friendship with Papyrus was, and will remain to be, one of the things Sans is very grateful for.

Alphys. She might not remember, but Sans was aware of her back when science things were going on. Before everyone’s memories were collectively wiped, Sans saw her as a close friend and someone to protect from a certain scientists abusive habits. Nowadays, however, Sans finds himself trying to detach from her--since she no longer remembers and their friendship has been somewhat... Lost. Even if he would be willing to try again, on different terms. But it would never be as close again, he knows.

TWO THINGS YOUR MUSE REGRETS:

The many times he let Papyrus die.

Remaining ignorant for so many of his early years, even if it was never his fault.

A PHOBIA YOUR MUSE HAS:

Forgetting things, even something minor. Losing the few people he’s extended his affection towards. His own conditional immortality and what it entails. Being touched by strangers without permission. Losing control of his situation at any time. The RESETS and the fact they could happen at any time without his knowledge(or that Frisk could go back if they wanted to and he could do nothing to stop them). Being powerless. Chara. Gaster.

tagged by: @pxcifrisktic, bless u mc. tagging: @vcidbound, the only one i know who ain’t been tagged.

[fontcomic-blog]

pxcifrisktic:

ACT: THINK ABOUT SLEEP

“I don’t like sleeping.”

Which must not come as a shock to him. Frisk and her mother rarely ever disagree with one another but getting the kid to sleep is a Herculean chore the teacher handles with poise and grace each night. If Frisk doesn’t end up waking up an unreasonable hour and camping out outside Toriel’s door she either slips into the bedroom and needs to be comforted.

Frisk’s well away she’s a big kid and big kids her age don’t generally creep into their parents bed at night but one must forgive her. It’s a luxury that they’ve just received. Frisk supposes that sleepovers with papyrus are generally better as the younger of the Skeleton Brothers has a tendency to stay awake and only sleeps if Frisk challenges him to a sleeping contest. 

Despite Frisk being in a different environment her sleeping habits are the same over there, too. If Frisk could go through life not sleeping they probably would. It left more hours of play open and less of their day in school. It meant more precious minutes with each companion they’ve made. 

“I love it,” she answers. “I love being with you and mom and Papyrus and everybody.”

“I don’t like sleeping but I like to cuddle.”

〔Ω〕:: вeнιnd a ѕмιle ::

*(There’s no shock, Sans is terribly aware of how she sleeps near as little as him; though there are stark differences he will hardly bring to light. Sometimes, under the haze of exhaustion, he’s worried he’d woken her with his occasional nightly trips from his room to the kitchen. Staring blankly at the cupboards or the clean surface of the countertop which almost reflects his own tired sockets back at him.)

“that so?”

*(She likes to cuddle, and cuddle she does. Whether it’s him or Papryus, Toriel or really any one who happens to come along her path. Frisk is an endless dispenser of hugs and kisses and sweet KINDNESS. Cuddling isn’t something the skeleton is opposed to, shown in ways when he becomes bonelessly(heh.)pliable against both his brothers gloves and the kids gentle hands.)

“daytime cuddlin’ alright with you then?”

*(It’s been awhile since he’s just had a moment with her, to sit and exist without thinking of much of anything at all. Granted, it’s mostly on him for not wanting to slow down for too long lest he doze off and deal with things he’d rather not... But, it’s hard to imagine not bending to her will, even if she hasn’t asked at all.)

[justbadpuns]

Sleeping comes so naturally to me, I could do it with my eyes closed..

[fontcomic-blog]

outbraves:

@fontcomic​. || x

   “——— SANS?” Ye stars above, that was a bad idea. Even with the rock and a mug of milk crashing to the floor — awful things to happen in and of themselves — the focus is undeniably on his poor brother, scampering away like a terrified rabbit. Never before has he done this to him, or—— has he? His memory is fuzzy on the subject, and the fact that it is only rattles his brain further. Why is he running from him?

               Another important question is… what is he wearing?

   “SANS, IT’S OKAY! SANS?!” Papyrus gives chase, the thump of his heavy footsteps sure to resonate beyond the closet door. Upon stopping there, however, he rests his body against its breadth, jiggling the door knob. Has he locked it? “BROTHER? WHAT’S WRONG? LET ME IN——— E- EVERYTHING’S FINE! IT’S ME!”

〔α〕:: lιттle laв raт ::

*(Heels digging into the fallen jackets and kicking footwear away from him as he pushes himself up against the back of the closet; wishing more than anything a Blaster would just come and get rid of whoever this was. The jiggling of the knob shakes through him in the form of trembles, knees clicking together beneath pants.)

*(B r o t h e r ? The very concept hits him between the eyes with utter confusion. He doesn’t... The doctor never said anything about this. Confused, he’s so confused. Did he know this person. Did the doctor? Who, what, why, how...--! He presses his hands to his face, trying to drown out both the sounds against the door and his own racing thoughts.)

“♑︎□︎ ♋︎⬥︎♋︎⍓︎”

*(It’s a panicked shriek, breaking yet another r u l e. Hide. Keep silent. Don’t say a word. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t, don’t, don’t--!)

[fontcomic-blog]

❝ THERE YOU ARE! GOD, SANS, I'VE BEEN LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU! WHERE DID YOU SCAMPER OFF TO? DID YOU LOSE YOUR WAY TO GRILLBY'S? ❞

〔α〕:: lιттle laв raт ::

*(Loud. Horribly loud, rattled right through his ribcage and down to the tips of his toes. His arms lift as if to shield himself from the approach, before immediately realizing this wasn’t the lab. Or was it? He couldn’t tell, his first instinct to hide was already near foiled. Instead, he stands rigidly still for a moment before casting a glance over his shoulder.)

*(This proves to be a mistake, and no sooner has he caught view of the other than he’s scrambling to put distance between them. Hitting a table and knocking the contents onto the floor and then ducking into a closet and slamming the door shut as quickly as possible. Hide. Intruders can’t be trusted. Ever…) 

[fontcomic-blog]

EVENT: Pregame Revisited.

*(Cue the mechanicians of a certain Scientist and a sudden shift in reality itself.)

*(Here stands a very confused little skeleton, far behind where his counterpart is–or was. Take care of him, won’t you?)

outofbones ::

event start-o! basically this is a set period of time where my pregame verse sans will be swapped with my usual sans due to the mechanicians of gaster! basically it’s a better look into how he used to be before everything in my backstory went down. hope you all enjoy. the tag is ‘pregame revisited’, block it if you’d rather not see this! if you’d like to opt for normal sans around the event, just ask! this spans all verses(except my aus)so no one is left out.

[fontcomic-blog]

pxcifrisktic:

ACT: THINK ABOUT SLEEP

Frisk wonders how long Sans would slumber left undisturbed. If his brother didn’t come to rouse him into the land of the living how long would he doze? Was it nicer there? Frisk’s dreams were usually less than enjoyable and on the rare nights Frisk found a pleasant night of sleep their nights were dreamless. She pouts and puffs out her cheeks. As long as they wish? 

“Do you like to be awake with us?”

〔Ω〕:: вeнιnd a ѕмιle ::

*(For a moment, he seems to halt. It wasn’t because the question was unexpected, it was too much like Frisk to ask something like that and so directly. Maybe it was the nature of the question itself, and the fact he has to take a moment to be absolutely sure his answer is genuine and not just reflex.)

“‘course i do. nappin’ is all fine and good, but i like bein’ around you and pap and tori.”

*(Paying no heed to the fact it was his default state of being, since sleep was a luxury for him at best. Not to most people’s knowledge, it always seemed like he slept more than anyone else. But, just because he laid down and fell into unconsciousness didn’t mean he was getting any rest from it. Yet another secret kept from the kid, however much she would probably wish differently. If she knew, that is.)

“you like bein’ awake, kiddo?”

*(Turning the question back on her, he is genuinely curious.)

[fontcomic-blog]

EVENT: Pregame Revisited.

*(Cue the mechanicians of a certain Scientist and a sudden shift in reality itself.)

*(Here stands a very confused little skeleton, far behind where his counterpart is--or was. Take care of him, won’t you?)

outofbones ::

event start-o! basically this is a set period of time where my pregame verse sans will be swapped with my usual sans due to the mechanicians of gaster! basically it’s a better look into how he used to be before everything in my backstory went down. hope you all enjoy. the tag is ‘pregame revisited’, block it if you’d rather not see this! if you’d like to opt for normal sans around the event, just ask! this spans all verses(except my aus)so no one is left out.

[fontcomic-blog]

outofbones ::

plottin’ something, stand by.

[fontcomic-blog]

pxcifrisktic:

ACT: ASK

“How long can monsters sleep?”

〔Ω〕:: вeнιnd a ѕмιle ::

“as long as they wanna, i think.”

[fontcomic-blog]

vcidbound:

“💧︎☜︎☼︎✋︎☞︎”

*(He folds his hands together, nimble fingers lacing together as he shift his weight to one foot, toes splaying to support his weight on the grass as the other shift to the side, a sure sign of agitation on his part.)

“✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ ✌︎☼︎☜︎ 👌︎☜︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ 👍︎⚐︎☠︎❄︎☜︎💣︎🏱︎❄︎🕆︎⚐︎🕆︎💧︎”

〔Ω〕:: вeнιnd a ѕмιle ::

*(There’s a beat of silence, both at the name and the insinuation--though it was more like an elaboration. He could always, if nothing else, count on the worst possible response coming from the bastard.)

“⬥︎□︎■︎♎︎♏︎❒︎ ♒︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎◻︎◻︎♏︎■︎♏︎♎︎ 🕈︎👎︎🗐︎📁︎︎”

*(Static always feels terrible on his jaw, but there are times when one can be so very contemptuous that forgetting all but the most primal of languages is a foregone conclusion. He slides his hands into his jacket pockets, grin unyielding even with his sockets blank.)

[fontcomic-blog]

MUSE’S WORST TRAITS

Tagged by: @vcidbound Tagging: shrug.

aggressive  /   callous  /   cannibal   /  careless   /   compulsive   /   cowardly   /  domineering   /  envious  /   greedy   /   hypocritical   /   impatient  /   impolite  /   incompetent   /   kidnapper   /   lazy   /  l i a r   /   manipulative  /   materialistic   /   murderer   /  obsessive   / overcritical ( of self )   /   overemotional   /  patronizing  /   sarcastic   /   self - indulgent  /   serial  killer   /   torturer    /   touchy   /   traitorous ( only to a select few )   /   unclean   /  unpredictable   /   untidy   /   vain  /  vengeful  /  wild