not back yet, hopefully by this weekend my laptop will be fixed and i can make something of a comback! this is just a reminder that
I DONT WANT PERSONALS FOLLOWING ME HOLY SHIT LEAVE ME ALONE

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d e v o n
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trying on a metaphor
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Origami Around
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
$LAYYYTER
Jules of Nature
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

if i look back, i am lost
almost home

Love Begins
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@sparethem-blog
not back yet, hopefully by this weekend my laptop will be fixed and i can make something of a comback! this is just a reminder that
I DONT WANT PERSONALS FOLLOWING ME HOLY SHIT LEAVE ME ALONE
send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse ---
veilled.
alternatively send ‘ + ‘ after the symbol for the roles to be reversed where possible !
✘ = hugging them . Δ = playing with their hair . ❤ = kissing them . ₪ = asking them out for dinner . ☀ = giving them a gift of ___ ( asker’s choice ) . ♘ = stabbing them . ♕ = bowing down before them . ♒ = lying to them . ✿ = buying them flowers . ☾ = being found shirtless . ♢ = reading them a story . ☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm . ✎ = speaking in a different language . ✏ = teaching them a different language . ▄ = telling them a joke . ♬ = singing to them . ☹ = insulting a loved one . ஐ = slapping them . ✂ = threatening them . ❃ = dancing with them . ▤ = falling asleep on them . ☮ = waking them up after a nightmare . ♣ = discovering them crying . 回 = patching a wound . ✮ = stargazing . ▓ = caught stealing their belongings . ☽ = wandering alone at night . ♡ = complimenting them . ≡ = offering a place to stay overnight . ☢ = falling over . ✦ = being well-dressed . ❂ = wiping blood off their face . ◎ = taking care of them while ill . ☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them . ⇕ = holding their hand . ↱ = being lost with them . ☠ = pushing them against a wall .
hey guys --- a quick announcement! my laptop got fucked up, which is why i havent been around. were finally at a place where we should be able to fix it, but its still gonna take some time. this computer has none of my icons, etc. and has trouble saving images, leaving me with very few options til i can get my mac fixed. please be patient with me!
wowie!!! ! !!
it’s been a little over two months since I made this blog and it’s been super fun! I’m really glad I caved and made my lil bean blog here because I’ve been really enjoying it! this is the most amount of followers I’ve ever had (… even though for some reason, I feel like more than half are personals …), so here’s a super overdue ff!
Keep reading
taichounokame:
[✸]
After a long, stretched-out silence, Leo sighed.
❝ I feel you, kiddo, ❞ he said softly, rubbing at the nape of his neck, ❝ Would you care to EXPAND on that? I know that we may not know each other well, but — I’m willing to lend an ear. Name’s Leo, by the way. ❞
“--- I’m Frisk.”
They know they should not be spilling their heart to strangers; yet it seems so natural to do just that. It is safer than spilling it to those who would worry over them --- they don’t need to put Sans or Papyrus or Undyne though any more trouble. Not after ---...
“It’s just --- really complicated. ‘Cause I got the good ending, so I should be --- it should be okay. But it’s not and I’m scared that I’ll --- I’ll ruin it all.”
ancmia:
he is not sure how the child can see him, even if it is only in their dreams. he is not sure how their subconscious reaches out to him, even as he flickers in and out of existence; forever trapped between realms, it seems.
he settles his bony fingers at his sides, gaze trapped on them. the question rings through his head, and so he spells out, unsure if they will understand him or not:
‘ I AM DR. GASTER. ‘
a pause, noise crackling even in the silence.
‘ YOU CAN SEE ME? ‘
They do not know why the movements of bony fingers make any sense to them; it is not a language the child ever learned --- yet they find the syllables resounding in their head. DOC - TOR GAS - TER. Perhaps it is love --- not LOVE, but love, serving to make this child strong in a way that only one like them could be.
“Doctor --- Gaster.”
The name seems wrong, somehow, on their lips --- a memory that isn’t real, a remnant of something that should not exist. Familiar but NOT. Familiar because it should be not? They shake their head to clear the thoughts.
“You feel so --- sad. Are you okay?”
her clothes spread wide, and mermaid-like a while they bore her up, which time she chanted snatches of old lauds — as one incapable of her own distress, or like a creature native and indued unto that element. but long it could not be till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay to muddy death.
and despite everything i’m still human; BUT I THINK I’M DYING HERE.
how come every time i log onto this blog i have a shit ton of new personal followers. literally what do i have to do to make u all realize i dont want u following me??????
fashion frisks
@ancmia
They see the stranger in their dreams sometimes; they see the stranger and they are frightened nearly as much as they are SAD. The figure, broken beyond repair makes them UNBEARABLY SAD --- absolute agape, pure l o v e wrapped in fragile flesh. HOW CAN I SAVE YOU? They want to do nothing more.
how can i save you?
But there is no sleeping now, and shaking hands reach out and then draw quickly back, afraid but WANTING TO SAVE. This stranger, this broken creature; oh, how selfless this child is.
“--- Who are you?”
" who did this? "
send “who did this?” for your muse to discover my muse with a black eye or a busted lip.
A black eye, and a nasty one at that. A remnant of the last reset; the wounds always stick around like fresh. At least the bloodstain on their clothes is gone, even if they can still feel the new , still-healing scar birthed of a SPEAR THROUGH THE GUT.
For a moment, they want to KILL HER. No. Not them — not Frisk. It is the OTHER who is whispering traitorous lies, pushing and prodding and she is unrelenting, she cannot be spared, KILL HER —…
And then the stranger speaks, and it is a welcome distraction from the fallen. Frisk’s blank expression twitches just barely to something more surprised for a moment before it returns to deadpan.
“I — fell down.”
@falleniisms
“--- I never hated you, you know.”
@hesaphantom
“--- Did you say something?”
menrites:
“..Why are you talking to me? “
“---‘Cause I wanted to know if you like Where’s Waldo.”
OBVIOUSLY.
nonoffensivepsi:
“I dunno. Aren’t snowmen supposed ta’ look all lopsided?”
He tilts his head. Maybe he can find a better angle to look at it from.
“Aren’t they supposed to stand up STRAIGHT?”
" who did this? "
send “who did this?” for your muse to discover my muse with a black eye or a busted lip.
“A — Ah…”
They’re shaking; tears falling from dark eyes as they struggle to get the taste of blood out of their mouth. OH. It is not the wound itself that has them so shaken — they have sustained far worse trying SO HARD to reach the golden end. TO SAVE EVERYONE. And that meant taking beatings with naught but a patient smile, that meant letting them hurt you while you struggled to figure out HOW TO SAVE THEM. They have died a million times { it is such a hard thing to forget; each time takes something out of you. a bit of your marrow, a piece of your mind. } and THIS? This slight ache is NOTHING.
No — it is not the blow that has them shuddering. IT IS THE MEMORY. For this monster could FAKE, could imitate, and it had sounded just like Papyrus did in the first run { or the second? god, they can’t remember } when Frisk had been WEAK and allowed the FALLEN’S VOICE to drive them to violence. The monster’s scream had sounded like ——
{ their sins dig thick claws deeper into the child’s back.}
“Ah.” The other prompts surprise and a hand wiping across the split lip to do away with the blood, the tears; the extremity shakes and continues to do so when it falls back to their side. “It’s — okay. Just a n — new monster. It took me a while to figure out how to…how to spare it…”