Just some dumbass multi Fandom whore on Tumblr ~ (20 yr old) (They/He) đŠđș (this is basically just a library of all my simping and hornyness addiction lol, 18+ ONLY! MINOR'S DNI)
also before I forget (because I will forget) I want to post some of the screenshot edits I've done recently! I love putting them in situations so much. my beloved gay bugs
I'm just. I was sitting here and was struck by the thought that MC!Sans is probably a lot older than the rest of the skeletons, just based on the fact that they lived through the whole of Alphys' natural life and UT!Alphys is still pretty young. And now I'm just. Thinking about the others finding out about how old MC is and I can't stop snickering about it lol
MC: heh, you're a century too early to be playing these games with me.
Red: bullshit, there's no way you're over a hundred years old.
You just wanted a cool, oversized leather jacket to wear incognito.
Unfortunately, your navigation skills failed you, and you ended up in the wrong aisle of a very confusing department store.
âhey, pal. you look lost,â a lazy voice rasped. You turned to see a skeleton in a blue hoodie, holding a can of tomato soup. âI am,â you admitted, pulling down your sunglasses âDo you know where the clothes section is? Iâve been looking for jackets for twenty minutesâ
Sans blinked, staring at the literal towers of Campbellâs surrounding you both. âkidâŠyouâre in the soup aisle.â
âWell, yeah, but I thought it was a multi-levelââ
âWhy are you buying clothes at the soup store?â Sans interrupted, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
You choked on a laugh, realizing how ridiculous you looked in your high-fashion disguise amidst canned broth. âFair point, Iâm just trying to avoid paparazzi.â
Sansâs white eye-pupils widened slightly as he finally recognized your face from the massive billboards downtown âholy shâyouâre them. huh, guess the universe really does have a twisted sense of humor.â
You laughed, as Sans reached out his hand for you to take. âcome on, popstar. letâs get you outta the soup storeâ
Underswap (Blueberry) đ«
Blueberry was having a fantastic shift. He loved making pastries, he loved talking to customers, and he loved being the Magnificent Sans! He was currently wiping down the counter, softly humming the chorus of your latest hit song.
The bell above the cozy cafe door chimed, and Blue immediately brightened, wiping down the counter with frantic enthusiasm âWELCOME TO THE STAR CAFE! HOW CAN THE MAGNIFICENT BLUEBERRY HELPââ Blue choked on his own breath.
You walked up to the counter, pulling down your face mask just enough to order. âHi there, can I just get a matcha latte and a cinnamon roll to go, please?â
âM-M-MY IDOL?!â Blue squeaked, his hands shaking so hard he nearly dropped his rag, stars literally formed in his eye sockets.
You winced slightly, looking around to see if anyone heard âShh, please,â you giggled, putting a finger to your lips âJust a normal customer today, okay?â
âYES! OF COURSE! A SECRET MISSION!â Blue whispered loudly, and immediately clamped both hands over his mouth.
He quickly put your order together, and when he handed it over, you noticed he had drawn a perfect, adorable little frosting star on your cinnamon roll.
âThanks, Blue,â you read his nametag, offering a genuine, sweet smile âYou just made my whole dayâ
Blueberry stood frozen in place for a full ten minutes after you left, clutching his chest âTHEYâŠTHEY KNOW MY NAMEâŠâ
Underfell (Red) đ«
Red was leaning against a brick wall, huffing on a cigarette and enjoying a rare moment of peace away from his brother. The muffled sounds of screaming fans echoed from the main street a block away, he rolled his eye-lights.
idol culture is stupid, he thought. people screaming over some pretty face.
Suddenly, the heavy metal door of the alley burst open. Someone sprinted out and tripped over a loose brick, stumbling right into his chest.
âwhoa, watch it, sweetheart!â Red growled, catching you by the arms.
You looked up, breathless, your eyes wide with panic, you were wearing a glittering stage outfit, but you had a dark hoodie thrown over it âPlease,â you gasped, looking back at the door.
âTheyâre coming. JustâŠact natural!â
Before Red could process what was happening, you grabbed the lapels of his fluff-collared jacket and pulled him down, burying your face into his neck to hide your features just as a horde of screaming fans sprinted past the mouth of the alley.
Red stiffened completely, his face instantly erupting into a bright, furious crimson blush. He could smell your expensive perfume and could feel your heart racing against his ribs, when the crowd finally dispersed, you pulled back, flushing a bit yourself.
âI am so, so sorry,â you breathed. âThey broke through security, thanks forââ
Red stared at you, his sharp fangs bared in a stunned grin âyouâreâŠyouâre that pop starâ He whispered to himself as cleared his throat roughly, trying to regain his tough guy demeanor while his face was still burning.
âheh, donât sweat it, doll. hut, uh if youâre tryinâ to pay me back for savinâ yer skinâŠan autograph wouldnât hurt.â
Swapfell (Blackberry) đ
Blackberry prided himself on his sophisticated taste, which was why he was currently hiding in the back corner of a vintage comic shop, aggressively flipping through a rare graphic novel, he was so engrossed that he didnât notice someone standing right next to him, reaching for the volume above his head
Your fingers slipped, and the heavy omnibus tumbled down, smacking him right on his skull.
âWATCH IT, YOU WORTHLESSâ!â Blackberry snarled, snapping his gaze up, purple magic flaring around his hands.
âI am so, so sorry! It slipped!â you gasped, pulling down your face mask to apologize properly.
Blackberryâs breath hitched, the purple magic vanished instantly. He looked at the comic in his hand, then at you, realizing he was currently holding the exact sci-fi series you had mentioned loving in your latest magazine interview.
âYOUâŠYOUâREâŠâ Blackberry swallowed his pride, a dark purple blush creeping across his face. He quickly straightened his posture, clearing his throat arrogantly to cover his panic.
âAHEM. IT SEEMS YOU HAVE TASTE, HUMAN. I SUPPOSE I CAN FORGIVE A MINOR ASSAULT IF YOUâŠSIGN THIS VOLUME FOR ME.â He states, causing you to chuckle.
âDO NOT MAKE ME ASK TWICE.â
You smiled warmly âIâd love that.â (He was internally screaming).
Ink đš
Ink was sitting on a park bench, swinging his legs back and forth, holding a sketchbook and a giant pencil. He was frustrated, having just taken a vial of emotion, but he just couldnât find anything inspiring to draw today.
Everything feltâŠordinary.
Then, you sat down on the other end of his bench.
You sighed, taking off a pair of heavy headphones and letting yourself enjoy the breeze. The afternoon sunlight hit you perfectly, casting a soft, golden glow around your silhouette. Inkâs eye-lights instantly shiftedâone became a green diamond, the other a pink star.
Without a word, his hands moved at supersonic speed. He began sketching furiously, capturing the slope of your shoulders, the tilt of your head, the way your eyes looked so beautifully tired yet resilient.
âUmâŠexcuse me?â
Ink blinked, realizing you were now looking right at him, an amused smile on your face âOh! Sorry! I didnât mean to creep you out! I justâwhoa, wait, youâre the person from the big colorful music videos!â Ink gasped, dropping his pencil âI love your colors!â
You smiled, leaning over to look at his sketchbook and gasped, it was a breathtakingly beautiful portrait of you, surrounded by splashes of colorful ink âWowâŠthis is incredible, youâre amazing.â
Inkâs face flushed a rainbow of colors, he grabbed his scarf, hiding his mouth. âYou think my art is amazing? Then canâŠcan you sign my sketchbook? Please?!â
Error đ§¶
Error hated public spaces, he hated anomalies, but more than anything, he hated the fact that your new album was a physical-only release and he had to go to a store to get it.
He stood in the music aisle, using his blue strings to delicately lift the last limited-edition CD off the shelf so he wouldnât have to touch it.
âOh, awesome! You found one!â
Error glitched violently at the sudden voice, his yellow âERRORâ signs flashing across his vision. He spun around, ready to string up whoever dared speak to him,
Only to find you smiling warmly at him.
ERROR: WINDOWS_NOT_RESPONDING
âOh, sorry! You can have it,â you said gently, amused by his rigid posture âI can just sign it for you, if youâd like?â
Errorâs soul practically leaped out of his chest. âY-YoUâŠtHe pOpStArâŠs-sIgN iT?!â He snapped out of his crash, grabbing a sharpie from his pocket with a trembling, glitching hand, fiercely denying the massive yellow blush covering his face.
X-tale (Cross) â
The backstage area of your stadium tour was a hectic maze of security, dancers, and tech crew. Cross, who had somehow managed to get hired as a temporary security guard just to be close to the venue, was standing at attention near your dressing room, looking stoic and intimidating with his massive jacket and intense gaze.
The door flew open, and you stumbled out, tripping over a rogue stage wire.
Before you could hit the floor, Cross caught you, his reflexes were flawless, wrapping a strong arm around your waist, you looked up to meet his mismatched eye sockets.
Cross completely lost his composure. His purple blush flared up to his pinpricks. âIâuhâforgive me! Are you unharmed?â
âIâm totally fine, thanks to you,â you smiled, leaning against him for a second to regain your balance âNice saves arenât in your job description, are they?â
âFor you, it is,â Cross blurted out, before realizing what he said, he quickly let go and stepped back, his face burning.
You laughed, hearing your name being called before planting a quick, thankful kiss on his cheekbone. âThen may I know my saviorâs name?â
âCross,â he choked out.
âThanks, Cross! See you after the show!â you called out, running toward the stage. Cross stood there, completely paralyzed, a hand hovering over his cheekbone while Chara laughed hysterically inside his head.
Dream đ«
Dream loved walking through the city. The positive emotions from people hanging out after work always filled him with warmth, but tonight, he found himself stopped dead in his tracks in front of a department store window.
There was a massive, life-sized poster of you advertising a new fragrance. You looked like an ethereal deity, surrounded by glowing flowers.
Dream was completely entranced by the sheer aura of pure, golden positivity and joy you radiated just through your image.
âI look kind of ridiculous in that, donât I?â
Dream gasped, spinning around. There you were, standing right next to him, sipping a smoothie. You were wearing a big scarf and a beanie, but those beautiful, expressive eyes were unmistakable.
âN-No! Not at all!â Dream stammered, his golden eye-lights turning into literal stars, his crown practically gleamed with his sudden spike of nervousness âYou look absolutely stunning! Your energyâŠeven on a piece of paper, you bring so much happiness to people! I can feel how much love you put into your work!â
You blinked, taken aback by his poetic and deeply sincere compliment. A soft, genuine blush dusted your cheeks âWow, thatâsâŠthe nicest thing someone has ever said to me.â
Dream smiled softly, his hands clasped together âYou may call me Dreamâ
You smiled back, reaching into your bag and pulling out a small, metallic star-shaped pin, pinning it to his cape. âNice to meet you, Dream.â
Nightmare đ
Nightmare preferred the quiet, rainy nights in the city, the ambient negativity of tired commuters fed him. He was strolling down the central plaza, his tendrils swaying lazily behind you, until he noticed a figure standing by a fountain.
You were softly singing a melancholic melody to yourself, looking stressed from your heavy idol schedule.
Nightmare paused, his single cyan eye widening. He knew your songs, in fact, your rare melancholy tracks were the only things he tolerated listening to in his castle.
âYouâre making a lot of noise for someone who is supposed to be a professional singer.â He stated, catching your attention. You look at him, not even scared of his intimidating, gooey appearance âJust practicing, was I disturbing you perhaps?â
He scoffed, crossing his arms. âWhatever, donât lose your voice. It would be a waste of a decent instrumentâ
You softly smiled at his words, noticing the concern behind it âDo you mind the company?â
Nightmare scoffed, a rare, genuine softness crossing his features as he sat down by the fountain âDo what you want. Sit, Iâll make sure no one bothers you tonightâ
Dusttale (Dust) đȘ
The local library was dead quiet, which was exactly how Dust liked it. He was sitting in the back corner of the history section, his hood pulled low, muttering softly to the ghost of his brother that only he could see.
âpaps, shut up, iâm trying to readâŠâ he whispered aggressively.
âExcuse me? Do you know where the music theory section is?â
Dust snapped his head up, ready to glare the intruder into submission, but the words caught in his throat. You were holding a stack of notebooks, looking slightly lost, Dustâs purple eye lights flickered erratically.
He recognized that voice, he listened to your songs on loop during his worst nights.
âu-uh,â Dust stammered, his usual creepy demeanor evaporating. He pointed a shaking, gloved finger toward the next aisle ât-two rows down. on the left.â
âThank you so much cutie!â you whispered with a warm smile before walking away.
Dust slumped into his chair, his face a bright violet. See, Paps? he thought frantically. I told you they were real! She spoke to me!
Killer đȘ
Killer was leaning against a brick wall outside a concert venue, flipping his knife casually. He didnât care much for society, but he had managed to snag a ticket to your show because your chaotic, high-energy pop anthems honestly scratched a very specific itch in his brain.
You exited through the back door, flanked by a few crew members, heading toward your tour bus, you walked past him, catching sight of the unique, dripping black lines beneath his eye sockets.
Stopping in your tracks, you looked right at him. âWow, those lines on your face are incredibly cool. Is that stage makeup, or a tattoo? It looks amazing on you!â
Killer froze, the knife slipped through his fingers, clattering loudly against the pavement. His soul rattled in his chest while his standard, manic grin melted into a wide-eyed, blushing mess.
âIâuhâwha?â Killer stammered, a dark red blush spreading across his skull. âYouâŠyou think I look cool?â
âDefinitely!â you smiled, before hearing your name be called. You start to wave goodbye as you stepped onto the bus. âHave a good night!â
Killer stood there for a full ten minutes after the bus pulled away, clutching his cheekbones. âShe liked the murder streaks. Paps, she liked them.â
Horrortale (Axe)đŽ
The âAll-You-Can-Eatâ buffet was chaotic, but Horror didnât care. He had a plate piled three feet high with various meats, his large, singular red eye scanning the room hungrily.
He sat down at a secluded booth, ready to dig in, when a shadow suddenly appeared beside him.
It was you, wearing a heavy disguise, trying to eat a quiet meal away from the fancy restaurants your manager always forced you into, you looked at Horrorâs massive plate, then at his intimidating appearance, and smiled.
âDang, nice haul. Making your moneyâs worth I see,â you said, holding up your own plate of comfort food.
Horror stared as his jaw dropped, showing off his sharp, jagged teeth. A deep crimson blush spread across his cracked skull, he recognized you instantly, the head chef at his mansion always played your music in the kitchen.
âY-YouâŠâ Horror rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly, he looked at his plate, then suddenly lifted the entire mountain of food toward you âWant some? Good meat, for the star.â
You laughed softly, touched by the gesture. âWell my manager did say I can eat properly todayâŠMind if I join you so we donât eat alone?â Horrorâs soul practically melted, he nodded eagerly, moving a bit to let you sit down.
You dig in as he looked at you like a giant, protective puppy, thrilled to be sharing a meal with his favorite star.
Epictale (Epic) đ
Epic was currently leaning over a glass display case, staring intensely at a giant, multi-layered chocolate mousse cake. âbruh,â he muttered to himself âthat cake is lookinâ sub-lime. an absolute masterpiece of the culinary arts, bruh.â
âI know, right? Iâve been staring at it for five minutes.â
Epic turned around so fast his purple trench coat flared out. Standing right next to him was the absolute leader of the pop charts, you were wearing a stylish beret and looking at the cake with the same intensity he was.
Epicâs eye-lights dilated, he smoothly adjusted his coat, leaning against the counter with a sly grin. âwell, well, well. if it isnât the star of the show, bruh. whatâs a famous idol doing in a humble bakery like this? looking for some sweet inspiration?â
You laughed, recognizing him from his viral internet videos. âExactly. I heard this place had the best chocolate mousse in the cityâ
Epicâs soul practically soared into the stratosphere. He slammed his hand on the counter âshopkeep! give us the whole cake! put it on my tab, bruh!â He turned back to you, winking. âonly the best for the finest voice. come on, letâs go destroy this cake bruh.â
You giggled, linking your arm through his âLead the way.â
Fresh đ
Fresh was in a abandoned alleyway, actively spray-painting a massive, neon-colored mural on the brick wall. He was rocking his usual â90s attire, his âYOLOâ glasses reflecting the bright pinks and greens of his art.
You happened to be taking a shortcut back to your hotel when you spotted the mural, you stopped, genuinely blown away by the creativity.
âWow, this is so cool!â you exclaimed âThe color blending is insane, youâre a seriously talented artist.â
Fresh spun around, his skateboard clicking against the ground, behind his sunglasses, his parasitic eye lights swirled.
He knew exactly who you wereâyour face was plastered on every digital billboard in the city, the epitome of modern âcoolâ.
âwhoa, chillax, un-brah! youâre the main attraction! the mega-star!â Fresh said, his glasses changing to spell âOHâ âMYâ.
You laughed as a neon purple blush appeared on his cheekbones, he pulled his glasses down slightly, peeking over them âyou think my art is fresh, star-child?â
âI love it,â you smiled, taking a selfie with the wall (and him) in the background.
âbrahâŠmy art just got certified by the highest authority of cool,â Fresh muttered, throwing his spray can in the air and catching it, a huge, dorky smile breaking across his face.
âCan I try?â you asked, pointing to a spare can.
âaw snap, an idol collab?!â Fresh handed you the neon pink spray can with a grin. âletâs make this wall look totally bomb-diggity, old sport!â
ARGHH WE NEED MORE UNDERTALE AU FANFICSS, I did not like how I wrote Nightmare and I swear Iâll make Dust longer next time. Is this fandom still alive? Lemme know wht to do nextt
