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[awkwardlyflustered]

Best Babysitter Ever

A/N: I have been watching too much Criminal Minds recently, I just started it over for like the 5th time. I love the BAU so goddamn much, and I specifically love Reid (he’s just a lil guy) so y’all better get so ready for so much lee Reid in the upcoming weeks. For now though, Reid and Hotch interacting has my entire soul and being so here’s a quick little story for the two of them. 

“Hotch, I promise you everything will be okay, I read five parenting books on the way here just to prepare.”

“I know, I trust you’re gonna be fine, you’ve just never babysat by yourself before, and JJ was supposed to come over and help…” Hotch trailed off, unable to keep the overprotective dad side from surfacing. 

“We’ll be fine! I’m great with kids,” Reid continued to argue, “We’ll have so much fun, isn’t that right Jack?” Both men turned their eyes over to the small six year old playing with his trucks in the corner. Jack agreed enthusiastically and ran over to hug Spencer’s leg. 

“Alright, I’m sure you guys will be fine,” Hotch finally relented. “Reid, call me if you need anything at all, and Jack, be good for Spencer” Spencer gave a salute towards his boss as Jack ran to hug his dad goodbye. 

A few hours later, Hotch walked back into his house and was immediately greeted by the loud screams of laughter from Jack. Smiling, he made his way towards the two, not saying anything. 

“SPEHEHENCEHEHER!” Jack squealed as Reid’s fingers scribbled across his belly. 

“Spencer? Who’s Spencer, I’m the tickle monster!” The curly haired boy announced, scooping up the small kid’s wrists in one hand, and drilling into his underarms with the other. Jack kicked out and tried to squirm away from the intruding hands, finally noticing his dad standing over the two of them. 

“DAHAHAHAHD HEHEHEHELP!!” 

“You can scream all you want, no one can save you from the tickle monster!” Reid called out with a grin taking over his face as he turned to Hotch as a greeting. 

“You heard him Jack, I can’t save you, there’s nothing I can do.” Hotch had a soft grin taking over his face as well, though not quite as smug as Spencer’s. 

“PLEHEHEASE,” Jack whined out, obviously enjoying himself. 

“Hmm alright fine, I’ll do my best but no promises.” Hotch threw his coat that he had just taken off onto the couch and crouched down by the two of them. “Let’s see here…” he muttered out, taking a hold of Jack’s arms and pretending to pull as hard as he could. 

“You’re no match for my incredible strength!” Spencer continued in character, vibrating his fingers into Jack’s ribs causing a whole new round of laughter. 

“Hmm I have an idea,” Hotch thought aloud as he stalked towards Spencer. 

“You’ll never beat me! Jack will be mine forever,” the so-called tickle monster called out yet again, too busy with his charade to pay any attention to the older man getting closer and closer to him. Without warning, Hotch practically tackled Spencer and started digging into his ribs. Spencer squealed and kicked his feet, completely caught

off guard by the attack. Jack quickly stood up from his position on the floor cheering and encouraging the attack. 

“Well well well, looks like the tickle monster is ticklish.”

“Nohohoho” Reid giggled out, weakly swatting at the offending hands currently wracking his nerves. Hotch grabbed Spencer arms and held them above his head, waiting while Reid panted beneath him.

“Hey Jack, come here,” the father beckoned his son over, and started pointing along Reid’s torso. “You know if you poke him right here he makes a really silly noise.” Jack, excited he got to play too began poking his little fingers along Spencer’s tummy. With every poke Spencer gave a hiccupy squeal, that quickly advanced into hiccupy giggles when Hotch’s fingers found their way to his upper ribs. 

“Wahahahait guhuhuys,” he pleaded, being careful with his squirming to not hurt Jack. 

“This is only fair after you tickled Jack for so long, what do you think buddy?”

“Yeah! You did this to me, you deserve it!” Reid just squeezed his eyes shut, threw his head back, and gave into the ticklish sensations. 

The Hotchner duo continued their attack for a few more minutes, making sure to get thorough revenge on the tickle monster before letting him up. Spencer sat up panting, with slight tears in the corners of his eyes. 

“The tickle monster isn’t gonna forget this, you better watch out,” he teased Jack, reaching out to pinch his side. 

“My dad will rescue me every time!” Jack replied indignantly, clinging to his dad’s leg. 

“I absolutely will,” Hotch reassured, ruffling his son’s hair, “But until you need more rescuing, it looks like it’s time for bed. Go start getting ready.” With that, Jack starting running off to get ready for bed, but quickly back tracked to give a crashing hug to Reid.

“Goodnight Spencer, thank you for playing with me.”

“Of course kid,” Reid replied, hugging Jack tightly. “I had fun playing with you.”

“Are you gonna come back tomorrow?” Hotch interrupted the interaction before Reid could be put on the spot.

“No buddy, not tomorrow, but you’ll see Spencer again soon.” Jack just nodded and finally left the two to begin getting ready for bed. Spencer stood up from the floor to stand next to Hotch.

“So I take it the babysitting went well?” Hotch asked with a slight smirk. Spencer nodded happily.

“Yeah, Jack is great. We had a lot of fun together.”

“I could see that. Do you maybe want to come back next week to babysit some more?” Spencer nodded again, much more enthusiastically. “And I take it the tickle monster will be making another appearance?” Spencer blushed out to his ears at the mention of the silly character. 

“Maybe he will.”

“Well then it looks like I’ll have some more rescuing to do, won’t I?” Reid just smiled and looked down at the ground, too sheepish to continue meeting Hotch’s eye. Hotch smiled warmly, remembering just how young Reid actually is despite his age. He quickly pulled Reid in for a hug.

“Thank you again Spencer.” 

“You’re welcome, it was nice getting to feel like an older brother for a little while.” Spencer’s eyes widened and he pulled away from the hug as he realized what he just said. “Not like that I just meant-”

“You’re the best big brother Jack could ask for,” Hotch assured the genius, clapping him on the shoulder. Spencer smiled an almost cheshire grin as the pink tint returned once again to his cheeks. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he called out, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“Yep, and I can’t wait to see the rest of the team and inform them of what a great babysitter the tickle monster is,” Hotch teased, a smirk taking over his features. Reid froze, his hand on the doorknob. 

“Hotch you can tell anyone and everyone you want, but don’t tell Morgan I’m ticklish, he’ll never let me live it down.”

“I don’t know, I think Morgan would really like to know…”

“Hotch!”

“Alright alright, I’ll keep it to myself, for now anyways.” Spencer breathed a quick sigh of relief and waved goodbye before leaving the house. 

Hotch smiled fondly, and pulled out his phone to text Derek. 

Tomorrow morning you should ask Reid how babysitting went. He has a really funny secret to tell you

“Technically, I’m not gonna tell him anything,” Hotch muttered to himself, smiling. “Plus what fun is having this information if I’m just gonna keep it to myself?” With that, he walked towards Jack’s room ready to tuck him into bed. His heart was full between his son and his work family, he couldn’t be any happier. 

[awkwardlyflustered]

~A Place for Warmth (and Forest Fires)~

TickleTale Excerpts #1

Word Count: 4,967

Summary: Sans and Papyrus try to make Snowdin more bearable for tourists. A few weeks of searching, and one test subject assistant later, it's time to begin the testing phase!

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The wind was howling. Footsteps crunched through the snow. It was a sound Axel had rarely heard before, living in the dry and warm vastness of The Capital, but now it followed his every step. His breath fogged up his monocle as he heaved the occasional sigh. He'd been walking for ages, though thankfully, breaks were frequent; lots of monsters wanted to talk, in the Underground. A shaky exhale. A laboured breath. A quickening to his step. Axel had to keep moving. One of his horns snags on a branch, but it tears right through, and he barely slows down. He takes the time to untangle it, tossing it carelessly to the side.

He'd already started missing the warmth of the inn he'd stepped out of not three minutes ago. The bunny lady in there said something about those skeletons being “over yonder”, which did little to narrow things down. But he could take a guess with the way she gestured vaguely outside town, and he was headed that way; just hoping there weren't too many branching paths.

Thankfully, all the extra paths led to dead ends, but un-thankfully, that didn't stop him from wasting time. He accidentally stumbled across every. Single. Worthless. Path. He could have possibly found. The thought causes some semblance of annoyance to bubble up from within, but the bitter chill in the air snuffs it out like a light. He holds his grey cloak tight around himself, basking in what little warmth it offers. Not learning fire magic was currently his biggest regret, though it's not like it would matter for too much longer. He hoped.

His prayers to The Angel were answered in kind, as he could hear a notably boisterous voice in the distance. He'd never heard what the skeletons sounded like, but based on the large font and excited nature of the flier he'd picked up, the voice matched it perfectly. There was a second voice; one much more relaxed and soft-spoken, which Axel felt complimented their loud counterpart nicely. He listens in as he gets closer.

“WELL, AT LEAST HELP ME FIND MY WRENCH! IT COULDN'T HAVE GONE FAR!” They sound angry. Axel can't tell if that's normal for them, or not.

“sure thing, bro, but it might take me a while. undyne's a few dozen rooms that way.” He walks a little faster.

“WHAT?? SANS! I SAID WRENCH, NOT- UGH!”

“oh, well, that really throws a wench into my plans.” Axel can hear the playful smugness dripping off this line in particular.

“SANS!!! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS, YOU LAZYBONES! ARE YOU GOING TO HELP ME, OR-” There's silence, for about half a second.

“OH! THERE IT IS! THANK YOU, BROTHER.” They exchange something, Axel's close enough to hear that much. That's a good sign. This notion is instantly validated by him stepping into the same clearing as them. The shorter one- “Sans”, Axel would guess -already has his eyes on him, but the taller one, “Papyrus”, has yet to notice.

Said tall skeleton is currently on his knees, his top half inside an open- and unlit -fireplace. He seems to be tweaking something on the inside, based on the metal clanks. Now that he can see what they look like… They definitely fit the silly reputation he's heard so much about.

Sans is kicked back in a lawn chair, wearing pink fuzzy slippers, and a jacket that's the same color, albeit a slightly darker shade. It has fur lining the collar. The undershirt's yellow, and he has shorts that are baby blue. He seems relaxed.

Papyrus, meanwhile, has a bit of a strange build; even by monster standards. He's taller than most Axel's seen, and his top-half is wayyy larger than the bottom. Or… Maybe that's just armor? It's hard to tell, but whatever it is, it's all white. Though on closer inspection, there appears to be a hint of purple that's not particularly obvious. He wears a bright pink scarf around his neck, with fluffy ends to it, and bright red gloves.

Sans grins, before looking over at Papyrus. “hey, bro, think we got a volunteer.”

“W-” Papyrus tries to stand up, and bangs his head on the roof of the fireplace. His whole body shakes, starting from his head and spreading down, before reaching the ground. The metal clang startles some nearby birds out of their trees. Sans suppresses a laugh as Papyrus grumbles, before he pulls his top half out and stands up proper.

Axel was right, he's- He's massive. Almost double his own height, and he considers himself fairly tall! It's almost intimidating, but the goofy grin on his face is enough to keep that at bay as he looks over at his brother. Papyrus clears his throat. “WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT NOW?”

Papyrus places his hands on his hips, to which Sans just gestures at Axel with his thumb. Papyrus follows, notices Axel, and perks up. There are… Stars, in his eye sockets. “OH!!” The stars disappear. “HELLO THERE! WELCOME TO SNOWDIN! ARE YOU HERE TO HELP US TEST OUR LATEST AND GREATEST?” Papyrus strikes a pose, tilting his head up and planting a hand on his chest. As if on command, his scarf flutters in the wind.

Axel takes off his monocle, realizing only now that it'd become so fogged up as to be useless. He stuffs it in his cloak, in one of the many hidden compartments. “That's right. New… Heating, or something?” He glances to the side, unimpressed at his own lack of forethought. “I skimmed it.”

“YES!” Papyrus shouts. Axel reels back a little, before forcing his confidence to the forefront, and steeling himself. “UNDYNE ASKED ME TO SOLVE A PROBLEM! AND AS I AM NOT ONE TO SHY AWAY FROM SUCH A TASK, I ACCEPT WHOLEHEARTEDLY. UNFORTUNATELY, MY BROTHER AND I… WE DO NOT EXPERIENCE TEMPERATURE LIKE MOST MONSTERS.”

Axel cuts him off before his next sentence. “And that's where I come in, right. Is…” He points at the fireplace. “…that it?”

“INDEED IT IS! VERY ASTUTE, UHHH… YOU!” Papyrus gestures to Axel, the way one would when revealing something they're proud of.

“Axel,” he clarifies, shuffling uncomfortably.

“YES! AXEL! IT IS VERY NICE TO MEET YOU. I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He gestures with a wide hand motion to the other skeleton. “AND THIS IS MY BROTHER, SANS. IT IS A PLEASURE TO HAVE YOU ON BOARD!” Papyrus sticks out a gloved hand for him to shake.

He does. Slowly, hesitating every step of the way, but finally being engulfed by Papyrus' massive hands. Sans was next to the taller skeleton (when did he get up???), grinning lazily. “axel, huh? did you come with wheels?”

He shakes his head. “No. Left the roller skates at home. …Though if I knew how long the walk was going to be…”

“you would'a came in style.” Sans winks, putting a smile on the grey monsters' face.

“YES, YES, WELL, REGARDLESS OF YOUR MODE OF TRANSPORTATION…” Papyrus perks up! “YOU ARE HERE! FINALLY! AND THAT MEANS!! YOU CAN HELP!!!”

Sans raises an eye“brow”. “couldn't we have just gotten undyne to do this?”

“WHAT??? NO! TOO MANY PUZZLES ON THE WAY! YOU KNOW HOW UNDYNE FEELS ABOUT THOSE…” He rolls his eyes. Axel does the same, though he… Doesn't recall seeing any puzzles. Strange. He lets them go off on whatever tangent they feel like while he goes to sit in front of the fireplace. He'll wait for them to finish before asking what he has to do. Strangely, sitting in the snow doesn't make him any colder.

He hums to himself, before he tunes back in. “…YS DIDN'T ANSWER MY KNOCKING! OR MY MESSAGES! OR EVEN COME OUTSIDE WITHIN A TWENTY-FOUR-HOUR PERIOD! SO I'M NOT SURE WHETHER SHE WOULD LIKE TO HELP OR NOT, BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER, BECAUSE WE HAVE YOU-!” Silence.

It takes him a moment to realize Axel had already gotten into position. “AH, YES, VERY GOOD. YOU ARE PROVING TO BE A WONDERFUL ASSISTANT! JUST SIT RIGHT THERE WHILE I FINISH THE FINAL TOUCHES!” Axel does just that. Not like he really had a choice, it was either this, or leave, having come all this way for nothing. He detests the idea, already having wasted enough of his time on the walk here. There's a strange crunch in the snow to his left; Sans has taken a seat, as well.

“hey, don't think i got to introduce myself. you already know who i am, and i already know you, but… howzabout a handshake?” Sans winks again, extending his right hand for Axel to take. He turns his whole body to the left a little, to be able to return this gesture, accepting the handshake with only a little less anxiety than the one with Papyrus.

Sans grips his hand tightly. There's a squelching sound before a strange, soothing sensation washes over Axel. He takes a deep breath in; the same breath one would take after being submerged in freezing water, but this… This felt… Amazing. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this good. It was easy to decide that after mere moments of bliss. It was… Perfect.

“there. feel better?” Sans retracts his hand, but the feeling of warmth lingers.

“I… Didn't feel-” Bad, he wanted to say. But was that correct? He can feel the absence of fear and anxiety stronger than before, isn't that a sign that it used to exist? “…Hm. Thanks.”

Sans shrugs. “hey, no problem. i could tell you were feelin' off.” Could he?? Was it that obvious? He didn't notice anything. “actually… hey, i have another idea. gimme your hand.”

Axel groaned, quietly, already not enjoying the idea. But the skeleton at least seemed to know what he was doing. That's probably the only reason he obliges, extending his left hand and letting Sans do whatever with it. The skeleton just takes it, and puts it in his lap, then winks at Axel.

Sans puts a finger down on his gloved palm. He tenses up, immediately knowing where this is going. The fight with the smile on his face was lost before it had even begun. He instinctively tries to take his hand back, but Sans' grip lasts just long enough for him to get over it. He stops trying to pull away.

Sans traces his finger along where he could feel Axel's palm crease, and the urge to rip has hand back has to be suppressed again. Sans notices him flinch, his smile somehow growing wider. Axel wears a similar look; he can feel it. He takes a deep, shaky breath, that stutters heavily with interspersed giggling when Sans drags his finger swiftly back down.

Axel tries forcing his smile down, to no avail. It was a little embarrassing, but it wasn't… Bad. “maybe i should get to the point,” Sans says, poking into the center of Axels' palm. That pun was so unbelievably lame, but combined with the gentle tracing that followed after, it caused a few more streams of laughter to trickle out.

Papyrus groans from his position in the fireplace. “SANS! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOU TO PLAGUE OUR ASSISTANT WITH YOUR DREADFUL SENSE OF HUMOR!” Axel tries to shrink into his cloak. It doesn't work.

“sorry, bro, i can't help what they find humerus.” Sans scritches softly into Axels' hand, trailing his finger up his wrist and slooowly gliding it against his arm. Axel gasps, then the laughing grows louder, to the point he has to use his free hand to muffle the sounds.

“NO!!! THAT WASN'T EVEN CLEVER! ASSISTANT, YOU DO NOT NEED TO HUMOR MY BROTHER. JUST…GIVE ME A MOMENT TO…” He trails off, seeming to struggle with twisting the wrench any further.

Sans trails his touch up Axel's arm, to his shoulder, dragging just one finger around the base of his neck. He has to let up for a moment, to reach over the collar of his cloak, but as soon as he touches down- “HHHHH-” Axel inhales sharply, and scrunches his neck up, trapping the finger there. He doesn't realize his mistake until said finger starts wriggling, now getting his chin at the same time as his neck. Axel lets out one involuntary “HAH” before reeling back, out of Sans' reach.

Papyrus yells, triumphantly. “GOT IT!” He pulls back from the inside of the fireplace, dusting his gloves off dramatically. He tosses the wrench onto the ground next to him. “NOW, WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING BACK HERE??” Sans smiles, innocently, hands kept to himself, while Axel just lowers his head into his cloak.

If anyone saw how red his face was currently, he thinks he'd turn to dust in an instant. Papyrus stares at him for a moment. “AH, I SEE… YOU'RE FEELING NERVOUS AT THE PROSPECT OF BEING CONFRONTED BY SUCH GREATNESS! WELL, DO NOT BE AFRAID, AXEL. I PROMISE YOU, THIS DEVICE IS COMPLETELY SAFE!”

Papyrus grabs Axel and lifts them above the ground slightly, repositioning them closer to the fireplace. Sans doesn't follow. “JUST WAIT A MOMENT, WHILE IT POWERS UP!” Papyrus reaches behind the fireplace, presumably to press a switch of some kind. It doesn't make a noise, but it is definitely lighting up. It glows brighter, and brighter, the orange hue blanketing their surroundings.

After a few seconds of deliberation, a fire bursts upward! There's a grating in the floor from which said fire rises, and the sudden startup causes Axel to startle a little. He calms down near instantly, the lingering feeling of euphoria from Sans' earlier… Prank? Anti-prank? Gift? Whatever word is applicable, it was still affecting him.

And not to mention the ghosts of touch that still fluttered at his neck. He tries to ignore it. Unsuccessfully. It's when a smile creeps up on his face that he forces his attention to the fire, to really try and get his mind off of the sensation.

The fire flickers, dangerous and all consuming, yet easily controlled by the mechanism that gave it life. It's warm. Pleasantly so, and nowhere near as hot as one would expect a flame of its size to be. Axel gets closer. The heat doesn't change, up until and including the point his hand brushes against the flames. It doesn't burn him; it's a little cooler than a blanket that had just been put through a drier.

Papyrus speaks, his booming voice only barely surprising Axel this time. This was good progress. “WELL? WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

Axel twists his hand around, letting the flames graze against him. They almost looked like they were reaching out, to meet his touch. “It's… Not burning me. But it feels warm, still- How did you-?”

“fire magic.” Sans was back in his lawn chair, now with a stylish pair of sunglasses. Must've been in one of his pockets.

“Oh! So this is what that's like. Huh…” The fire seemed to move with a mind of its own, flickering up towards the ceiling, shrinking back down, wrapping around his hand and enveloping it in a peaceful warmth. The fire was ever-changing, ever-growing and shrinking and exploring each crevice of its container. Except for… The part around his hand? That wasn't moving as much, which was strange. Maybe it was attracted to magic, or something?

Papyrus steps over to Axel, though not as close as he would've expected. “INDEED! AND IF YOU THINK THAT'S COOL… IT HAS A VARIETY OF OTHER FUNCTIONS, AS WELL!” He seems proud. He should be, Axel was loving this machine. It just felt nice!

He grins up at the skeleton. “And you need me to test those too, right?”

This earns him a nod. “YES! IF YOU WOULD BE SO KIND.”

He turns back to the fire, watching it burn brightly, his hand still in it. His arm was starting to get tired, but it felt too good! Perhaps he should switch hands? “Sure, sure. How do you… Activate these other functions?”

Sans chimes in. “stick your hand in it.”

Silence, for a second or two. “What.”

“…YES, I WAS JUST ABOUT TO MENTION THAT. WELL, GOOD THING YOU WERE ALREADY GOING TO TEST IT!” Papyrus pats Axel on the back, before stepping away.

Axel turns to look at him, but his focus is quickly diverted by a fluttery sensation on his palm. Like a really long feather had wrapped around his hand, and was dragging in circles, getting the top and bottom at the same time. He gasps at the sudden feeling, his body tensing up, before shivering, and tensing again.

Trying to pull his hand back… It's stuck in place, as the flames seem to move with purpose; most wrap around his wrist, leaving a few to target his hand. “Wh-whyyyyy-” He tries not to laugh, as he speaks. “Why did it-” He breathes, to stabilize himself. “t-take so long to do thiiiiis?”

Sans winks. It's hard to tell, but his eye socket does shift slightly behind the glasses, which is how Axel knows. “i imbued it with a sense of comedic timing. i'm not just the puns guy, ya know.” Axel groans, but any attempt to sound angry is stifled; both by his ever-growing smile, and the inconsistent giggling. “see? hilarious.” He reclines further back in his chair.

Axel lets out a shaky exhale. “Ooookay, okay, I think that's- That's enough, now-” He reaches toward his hand to try and bat the flames away, or pull it out, or anything that could help alleviate the situation. But. Then his other hand gets stuck, as more flames wrap around it.

“Oh- Uh- Guys! Guys, what do I-” The flames extend upward, forcing his arms to go along with it. His cloak is now wide open, as his arms are hoisted. Most of the fire wasn't even in the fireplace now, having come out to meet him.

Immediately following this, a million and one thoughts rush through Axels' head about what was going to happen. His face flushes, and he slams his eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts, and subsequent ghost tickling that came with them.

Papyrus steps up, seeming worried. “OH!! WAIT, NO! STOP, WE DO NOT HANDLE OUR FRIENDS LIKE THIS!” Was this not part of the plan? The fire continues, up to the point where Axels' hands are as up above his head as they can go. More flames trickle out, reaching for him, to which he tries to cower back. A few of them lunge forward, wrapping around his waist and preventing him from escaping.

“FC, STOP THIS!” FC? That must be the name for- A gentle poke to his stomach derails his thought process, as he's back to smiling and trying to inch away. His clothing offers some protection, but not enough, and soon, the flames fill his cloak, fluttering against his stomach. He exhales through gritted teeth, but this facade of composure doesn't last long.

The flames tease, almost like they have a mind of their own. They brush against his belly, stop, brush again, stop again, this time for a slightly longer interval, then another brush, and a slightly shorter interval, trailing circles around his belly button. It was madenning how random it was. Axel spares a glance around, during the next bit of downtime, noticing Papyrus had moved behind the machine; probably trying to shut it down. Wasn't there an on button earlier? Surely it'd be as easy as pressing it again, right?

Regardless, hat moment of it turning off was taking what felt like an eternity, as the flames continued to dance and writhe around. They entered his cloak further, now getting at pretty much his entire torso; his back and sides joining his tummy in the admittedly-kinda-fun torment. Axel would never admit that fact to anyone; that he enjoyed something like this. Even if it was commonly accepted in the Underground, it was just too much to ask from him, at the moment.

He tries to rip his arms down on instinct, to no avail; this fire was shockingly strong. More flames lick up his cloak, some having chosen to stay on the outside, reaching up for his face. He could turn away, but even the tiniest crack for them to slip through meant they would, and they did. The fires cup his chin, not even really tickling, just holding it in place, toward the furnace. Was it… Looking at him?? Was it even capable of that?

He doesn't get to ponder this long, obviously, though the thought does add to the red that had already adorned his features. His teeth were gritted, and- Oh, no, he was laughing. When had that happened?? Was he really not paying attention to that? His giggling bubbled up and out in short bursts, every other moment spent trying to prevent it from happening again; to which he always failed.

The limbs in his cloak scribble, now, using a rougher touch than before. The effects were immediately apparent as they dug into his sides, and scratched around to his back. 'Every other moment' was now also spent laughing, uncontrollably so. “Hhhhhh-” He starts a laugh, but tries to hold it in, hissing. “hhhahahahaheeeheeeaaaaahhahah!” Only to fail, in another uproar of laughter.

Axel squirmed as much as he could, though it did nothing to assuage what felt like hands nipping at his sides, and even his hips now, squeezing and digging and poking… Realistically, Axel knew he could go on for much longer, and a part of him did want to, but now was hardly the time to fulfill the other part of him that craved this contact. Although for now, that part feed was guaranteed to feed for a while; at least until Papyrus got the machine turned off. He seemed like he was struggling, what was the hold-up?

His arms tug forcefully as more wisps of fire dig into his underarms, but of course, they remain firmly in place. It felt like a warm blanket, how the fire had practically engulfed him. A blanket with a hand on his chin, flustering him to no end with implications alone. A blanket that was also ruthless in its tickly methods, as it scratched and scribble deftly on the sides of his back. A single 'finger' had taken to tracing the crease of that same area, where a spine would be.

He had no “spine” like a human would, though his species had copied most aspects of their design. Save for the head, and a few other miscellaneous details. Regardless, that area retained the heightened sensitivity, and Axel arches his back in a weak attempt to break away. The fire seems to delight in this information, as another 'finger' finds its way to this crease, digging in and scribbling at a different pace and intensity than the other. The sensations don't mesh well at all, and that only heightens the enjoyable hell he was being subjected to.

“HOLD ON, FRIEND! I'VE… ALMOST…GOT IT…UGH, SANS WHY DID YOU BUILD IT THIS WAY??” Papyrus grumbles.

“i dunno.” Sans shrugs, offering no more of an explanation.

“THEN AT LEAST HELP ME TURN IT OFF!”

 “hmmm. nah, the kiddo can take a few more minutes. i need to catch up on some z's, anyway.”

“WHAT- NO, YOU CAN'T JUST-” A moment of silence. “SANS!!!!” No response. “FINE, I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP TO TURN THIS OFF! FRET NOT, AXEL, YOU WILL BE RESCUED SOON ENOUGH!” Axel can't help but laugh. Not just because of the tickling, although that certainly made it several times louder than it was intended to be, but the skeletons were quite funny.

The fire pulls back for a second, finally giving some respite. It still holds his arms up, of course, and that one 'hand' is still holding his chin, but the others sit back, hovering just above the spots they were targetting before. Finally given the chance to speak again, Axel takes it. “H-Hehehey, uhm- S-Sohoho-” The waves of fire flutter closer, and he squeaks. “Ee- Hey! Nohone of that, no, you just- Give me, a, uhm, break…?”

The fire seems to… Agree? It's hard to tell, but it doesn't go back to tickling, so he takes that as a win. A few more flames flicker over his face, pleasantly warm, and soothing. He relaxes into the touch. It was a nice change of pace, going from being wrecked like that to more stereotypically 'normal' comforts. The fires wash over the top of his head, delicately, at first. Though it slowly grows rougher, massaging his scalp. Axel starts to melt into their touch.

It seemed strange for a fireplace to do this, but if its sole goal was to make people warm, then it was achieving that with freakish efficiency. He could barely feel the bitter chill of the air, or the freezing of the snow. “ALMOST DONE! JUST A FEW MORE NOTCHES, TO CUT OFF THE FLOW. I THINK? SANS LEFT SOME INSTRUCTIONS, BUT THEY'RE IN THIS… INDECIPHERABLE FONT! WHERE DID HE EVEN LEARN TO WRITE LIKE THIS??”

Axel nods along, revelling in the massage his head was getting. Sure, it still… Tickled slightly. Especially when some flames drug across his neck, feather-light in their touch. But it was soft, and pleasant. His arms had been lowered down to his sides, as the flames slowly began to ease up their approach. They were starting to dissipate, and Axel could hear the turning of a bolt, from behind the machine. He basks in the warmth for a few moments longer, before the fire completely fizzles out.

Axel was left there, smiling, blushing, and feeling the lingering ghost sensations that peppered his skin. He rubs at his stomach, trying to pat them away, when Papyrus leans around the machine, his towering form allowing for this to be easy. “IT WORKED!” He fully steps around, now. “APOLOGIES FOR FC MISBEHAVING LIKE THAT. THEY WERE SO RECEPTIVE TO MY ORDERS WITH THE OTHER ONE!”

“The, uh-” He has to readjust to being able to speak normally, taking deep breaths until he's stable enough to talk. “The other one?”

“YES! YOU ARE OUR SECOND VOLUNTEER. I REALLY DO NOT KNOW WHAT WENT WRONG WITH THIS ITERATION…” Papyrus leans over FC, tapping his chin with his gloved hand.

“i think they just took a liking to this one.” Axel nearly leaps out of his skin, startling as Sans speaks up right next to him. He was winking, because of course he was. Hadn't he gone to sleep?? Or was he just faking that?

“YOU THINK SO?” Papyrus leans back up, looking inquisitively at his brother. He turns to Axel, excited. “WELL THEN, YOU WILL HAVE TO COME BACK FOR THE NEXT VERSION!” He puts a hand forward, to help Axel up, which he takes. He dusts the snow off of his clothing.

“I, uhm…” After all of that, he could barely form a sentence without stammering. He glances to the side, a little flustered, before deciding to swallow his anxiety. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds- Sounds fun! I'd love to. Same time next week, or…?”

Papyrus pumps his arms enthusiastically. “YES! THAT SHOULD BE FINE. YOU RUN ALONG, NOW, WE HAVE UPGRADES TO MAKE!” Papyrus shoos Axel away.

Axel digs his heels in. “Wait, about the payment?”

Papyrus pauses, for a moment. “SANS HAS ALREADY TAKEN CARE OF THAT! PROBABLY!” His pockets feel heavier, all of a sudden. Not by much, but… He has a look. A bunch of gold pieces were added; presumably one hundred, like the flier said.

“H-how…” Sans just winks. “.........Right. Well. Thank you. I'll be on my way, now.” He takes his monocle out of his cloak. It's finally defogged, so he equips it.

“see ya, pal,” Sans calls out.

“YES, GOODBYE, FRIEND! WE HOPE TO SEE YOU AGAIN SOON!” Papyrus says his goodbyes as well, before turning his attention back to the machine.

Axel nods. “Be seeing you.” He slowly spins around on his heel, and walks back the way he came. He would… Never be able to let anyone know what happened here. He decides to use the time walking home- skipping out on the boat ride for extra time to think -to get his story straight, and pray to The Angel that the skeletons never share the story of what happened here.

Though a part of him wonders if that would be such a bad thing. Others finding out. He shakes his head, not wanting to risk it. Maybe he'd tell someone. Some day. A close friend, perhaps.

As Axel walks, he has a newfound pep in his step, reaching Snowdin town in record time. He was happy, almost blissful. As was everyone else he saw. It's moments like these that made him think living in the underground… Wasn't so bad. Maybe he was even overthinking things! Nobody was really gonna ask complicated questions about the experiment, right? Just some standard “how'd it go”'s here and the occasional “was the pay nice” there. He stops before reaching the entrance to Waterfall. Yeah. Yeah, he'd go back, and ride that boat, he didn't need a complicated excuse.

Before he knows it, he's stepping on the River Person's boat. They don't turn their head as they talk: “Tra la la. The waters are quite mirthful, today. Where would you like to go?”

Axel answers honestly, sitting down at the back of the boat. “As close to The Capital as you can get.”

“Then we're off,” the River Person responds, just as simply. Their boat rushes forward, magic fuelling it every step of the way. Axel leans back, lying his head against the wall. Some would call it uncomfortable, but as sleep nipped at the back of his mind, he had… Never felt… Better…

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(Psst, link to my buymeacoffee here!)

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Custom DONTFORGET Connected Map

Lil' blurry, because I can't screenshot the full-screen version of the game. Anyway, room 1's done, onto the next. This is playable, so if you're a fan of flavor text and walking around... Well. Here ya go? I guess?? Just place the three map files into your Maps folder, which should be located wherever you store the game. From there, head to Offline mode. Open your cell phone. Go to editor. Go to Load Custom Map. Then select myworld.dfmap.

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me: I'm going to write a fic to my own entertainment

also me, writing said fic:

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Reblog if you're shorter than 5'8.

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What is it with autistic ppl and tickling what sauce did they put in it bc it tastes

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too sleepy to elaborate at this time but I miss the old fandom culture of interacting with fanfic writers and fanfic artists as members of the fandom community who enjoyed engagement and discussion and feedback instead of the modern trend of seeing us as content creators up on a pedestal who don't need positive feedback but DO need to churn out constant content to feed the a03 machine

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Screaming sincerely at the top of my lungs, criminal minds and Carry On have a c h o k e h o l d on me. Someone please send asks or dms talking about hcs or something, I must talk about them!!

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I AM GONNA SOB I LOVE GARCIA AND MORGAN SI SO SO MUCH 😭😭😭

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Can you write one/more of Daniel getting tickled by Jack? (Now you see me)

Yes I would love to!! Any specific prompt?

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The idea of Morgan trying so hard not grab Garcia or squirm away when she tickles him because they're both having too much fun and he loves her to death. Him trying to reign in his strength but he's so ticklish.

Someone please remind me to write for this when I'm not 200% sleep deprived

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~Maybe You'll Change~ An Undertale Fic

* Determination.

Word Count: 3922

Character Count: 22258

Summary: Frisk had come far, now. From the Ruins, all the way to the end, they had grown so immeasurably powerful. And they could tell the end was approaching. They felt it, deep in their very SOUL. What was Flowey saying? It didn't matter. …He seemed scared. Good. He disappeared into the ground again. That's fine. There's barely anywhere left for him to run. With Flowey temporarily out of their way, they step into the glistening hall.

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Golden rays cast themselves over the corridor, entering from a myriad of stained-glass murals on the left wall. Pillars line the hall, each with their own small pocket of shadow, protecting anything within from sight. And yet, this did not completely hide the individual standing at the end of the room—not that he was trying to be stealthy. Frisk would normally feel a mixture of apprehension and excitement, at the prospect of their journey reaching its end. And once upon a time, they did.

But their actions. Their LV. Their EXP. It stained their SOUL and clouded their mind. There was no joy, in this sure victory. Just a hollow, empty feeling. They were getting stronger. They reach out and touch the golden star before them, so vibrant, and elegant. There was nothing. No words of encouragement or affirmations of Determination. They SAVE. It was time.

Frisk marches down the final corridor, like a soldier into battle, each step rhythmic and practiced, from their endless search for monsters to slay. It takes what feels like an eternity to reach the shadowy figure, whose identity they already know. They make no reaction when Sans steps out from the dark, and greets them with a smile. “heya.” They thought about attacking Sans right then and there. But… Still. A part of them is curious as to what he has to say, given everything they've done. If this is to be their judgement, like so many times before… Yes. This would be very, very interesting.

“you've been busy, huh?” He continues. To no response. “…so. i've got a question for ya.” He closes his eyes, deep in thought, before finally letting out what he yearned to ask. “do you think... that even the worst person, can change? that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?” What was he doing? It was almost laughable, his attempt at appealing to the anomaly's humanity. Pathetic. All Frisk answers with is a step forward, and a brandish of their knife.

“right.” Sans sighs, after hearing their footstep, almost certainly having expected that. Still. An admirable attempt, Frisk had to admit. Everyone was dead, and this skeleton still had the gall to parrot his late brothers' words. “well, here's a better question.” The monster opens his eyes. They're entirely hollow. A face Frisk had seen once before, way back in Snowdin. God, how it scared them, back then. Almost made them give up entirely on this path. Now? There was no room for fear. Only power.

“d o y o u w a n n a h a v e a b a d t i m e ?” Frisk raises an eyebrow, faint enough that even they don't realize it. “'cause if you take another step forward, you are really not going to like what happens next."

Frisk steps forward immediately, accepting the challenge in earnest. Their face, for the briefest of moments, even contained... A faint smile. But it was gone, before either party could register its existence.

Sans shrugs, closing both eyes once more. “welp. sorry, old lady.” A part of Frisk not belonging to them bubbles in anger, for a moment, at the reference to Toriel. But it subsides quickly enough. His eyes open. Not hollow, and yet, the expression conveys about as much disappointment. “this is why i never make promises.” Sans pauses for a moment, letting the silence convey the hell the human has wrought. But he continues. The only path is forward, and stalling wouldn't be tolerated for much longer. “it's... a beautiful day, outside.” Dust is scattered across the underground, Frisk internally finishes. And the surface will be draped in ash. “birds are singing,” horrid funerary knells. “flowers are blooming,” living the remainder of their lives in the dark. “and on days like these, kids like you…”

The world grows darker, for just a moment. “s h o u l d b e b u r n i n g i n h e l l .” That, at least, Frisk could agree on. Taking this as their cue to start, Frisk lunges toward Sans, swinging their knife! But as the blade careens through the air, their momentum halts, and the swing finishes mere inches away from the skeleton's chest. Their SOUL had been turned blue. Sans flicks his hand forward, causing Frisk's SOUL, and by extension, them, to be sent flying back to the end of the corridor they had arrived from. They slam into the wall, gritting their teeth from the pain, as they feel tiny trails of blood drip down the back of their head.

The wall begins to crack further, and before they can react, bones jut out, impaling them all throughout. Their torso and legs are pierced; their arms have barely been spared, and their skull is just a little too thick to be stabbed so easily. They can feel their energy and HP, draining at a rapid pace, from the attack. Mercifully, the bones retreat into the wall after another few moments, leaving Frisk to fall to the ground, bloody and riddled with holes. And only a few seconds into the fight, too.

This would be fun, they thought. Slowly, but surely, they push themselves off the floor, gripping their knife ever tighter as they rise and make a mad dash down the corridor. But they don't get very far before another onslaught of bones begins to assault them, stabbing out of the walls near Sans and flying down the golden hall, creating a zigzag pattern that Frisk expertly runs through. They only suffer a minor cut on their calf near the end.

By the time he ran out of bones, Frisk was mere feet away. They select FIGHT from their little wheel of actions, but don't get the chance to lunge again. Time seems to slow, as a dragon-looking skull appears between them, charging something in its mouth. With no ability to correct themselves out of the line of fire, Frisk braces for the attack! A white-hot laser slams into them. Their skin is scorched, burned, and torn, until they are eventually completely eviscerated. They now lie on the floor, a tattered, flaming corpse. Their SOUL rises from their chest, red, and glistening. It snaps in half, in a crooked, uneven manner. It shatters into thousands of pieces.

FILE 1 LOADED

Frisk was back in the corridor, right where they had saved. For a good few moments, they're just… Still. Processing what had happened. Replaying the few seconds it had taken them to die, over, and over, and over again, baffled. They expected a challenge. They expected Asgore to be their final obstacle, ten times worse than Undyne ever was. But no. That role was taken. By Sans the Fucking Skeleton. They sigh, disappointed, and yet, with an ever-slowly-building sense of… Excitement? They hadn't felt that since Undyne harnessed the power of Determination against them.

Regardless of this rising feeling, the more potent emotion dominates their face. Scowling all the way down the corridor, Sans steps from the shadows once again. He starts talking, and Frisk begins to zone out, until they hear his first few words. “heya. you look... frustrated about something.” This catches their attention, and the change in expression, as subtle as it may be, doesn't go unnoticed by the skeleton.

His eyes go hollow, once more. “guess i'm pretty good at my job, huh?” He closes his eyes again, ready to start the same spiel as last time. … Hopefully.

“it's a beautiful day outside. birds are singing,” he throws his hand out of his pocket, turning Frisk's SOUL blue like last time, and flinging them to the opposite end of the corridor. Anticipating what to do now, although still heavily caught off guard, Frisk manages to leap away just in time to avoid being impaled. Gravity returns to normal. Significantly less injured than last time, Frisk rushes down the corridor, dodging the zigzag bones, and taking their time even after getting within slashing distance of Sans. Sure enough, the skull- blaster? -appears, charging its laser. Frisk tactically rolls to the side, before bumping into another skull right at the end.

'Shit' is all that courses through their mind, as the skull discharges its laser right into their side, sending them flying to the other wall, and severely burning them. Their skin flakes, and scorches, as the flame spreads up their arm, said limb having taken the brunt of the attack. It was now nearly useless, the nerves were damaged, and the blade had slipped from their grasp due to this. There was no pain. They had forsaken that weakness somewhere around LV. 10 or 12. But still, it was definitely a pain. They were never good with their left hand, but it's their only choice, as they slip down the wall, and take the dagger once more. Only to be completely engulfed by another laser right after. They really needed to pay more attention, they thought, as their body was once again obliterated. Their SOUL shatters.

FILE 1 LOADED

They return to the end of the corridor, quickly turning ninety degrees to the left, and stomping their way back down to Sans. He wears a shit-eating grin, not too different from his usual one. In fact, it might be his normal look, Frisk wasn't a stickler for details. Not anymore. All that mattered was wiping it off his skull, by any. Means. Necessary. They tune back in, right as he starts going on whatever tangent he feels like, this time. “heya. that look on your face… that's the look of someone who's died two times in a row.” He closes his eyes, as Frisk tightens their grip on the knife.

“suffice to say, you look really… unsatisfied. heh. alright then.” Opened eyes. Hollow, once again.

“wanna help me make it a third?” Cue the battle, as the opening attack repeats with 1-to-1 levels of accuracy with all other attempts before. They get scraped by the bones that stab from the wall at the beginning, but only enough to take- they check their hp -ten damage. This motherfucker dealt ten damage from less than a second of contact. They were barely even cut, yet it's like their blood is finding any and all ways to escape their body, as if the rate at which they bled out was just… Tripled. This entire scenario would've been unthinkable even five, ten, or twenty minutes ago. Sans had a strange effect applied to his attacks, had complicated patterns, had fucking lasers…

Luckily, they get a reprieve from thinking about that clusterfuck of a situation. Sans' attack had ended. After three deaths. Horrible start, but could be worse. Sans speaks up, again. “huh." He shrugs, winking at Frisk. “always wondered why nobody ever used their strongest attack first.” And he's smart, to top off the list of ways Frisk is screwed over, here. But it doesn't matter. He could have every possible advantage given to him on a silver platter, and none of it would save him, because Frisk was not about to give up. Their Determination- as well as their willingness to beat this joke of a character -was all they needed. Infinite attempts mean that anything with a possibility higher than zero is effectively a guarantee, and Frisk was about to prove that.

Just, y'know… Had to die. A lot. Who knows? Maybe the fight would end in one hit! After all, they had just gotten their strongest weapon yet, it'd be strange for this skeleton to resist it. Not that he hadn't been full of surprises today, but as Frisk rushed forward, knife brandished, they knew hope was essential. They swing their dull blade through the air, meeting their mark with a heavy... ...Nothing. They strike open air. Sans had sidestepped their attack, and in his place, in big, bold lettering, “MISS” appears. It doesn't stay for long, disappearing by the time they recover from their failed strike.

“what, did'ja expect me to just stand there and take it?" He winks. Again. That godforsaken wink… Frisk's body almost moves on its own when they apply pressure to the ground, rocketing toward the annoying skeleton. They strike again. And he dodges. Again. Another strike. He dodges. They go for another slice. Their blade does hit something, though it's not Sans' rib cage. The implement gets stuck between two bones, which rose up and met Frisk's strike perfectly, trapping the weapon firmly.

They let go, leaping backward as their survival instincts kicked in. They were right to do so, as a bone burst through the floor, right where they were standing. Frisk furrows their brow slightly, thinking on the fly to find a plan of attack. They step around the bone that they'd narrowly just avoided, dash forward, and crouch into a slide. They thrust their foot into one of the bones that held their blade, and caught it on the way down. Slice, slice, slice, as they use their momentum to spring back to a standing position. Sans was out of range for the first hit and ducked under the second. When he did, a bone launched from behind where his head was. It didn't pierce Frisk's skull, thankfully, but it certainly left them rattled after slamming into their face.

They fall back onto the ground, stunned, and shocked. There's a blinding light above them. They roll to the right, narrowly avoiding a blaster that fires directly at where they just were. The vapor, or plasma, or whatever it is, spreads out slightly from the impact site, catching Frisk on the arm, and lowering their HP further. 57/92, from the smack to the face, and the brief contact with hot death. This fight would take forever, if things continued in this manner, but luckily, Frisk had gotten over the shock factor. Now all that was left was his death.

…But Frisk, having spent too much time pondering, was finally struck with a lethal blow. One bone. Right through the heart. A part of them felt frustrated, and even disappointed, having left themselves so open like that. But it was for the best. A clean slate, to do things over again, now that they knew what to expect. They fall to their knees. And then they die.

FILE 1 LOADED

They walk to Sans. Whatever he says doesn't matter. They dodged his first attack. Flawlessly, this time, having gotten the general patterns down pat. And then, the real fight begins. Sans was… Formidable. If his first attack didn't prove that to Frisk, the onslaught of tricks and surprise attacks certainly did. He took after his brother, like that. Or… Was it the other way around? No time to ponder that, Frisk is dead. Again.

FILE 1 LOADED

Skip Sans' dialogue. Dodge the first attack. Get a little farther, avoiding his moves with learned and practiced motions. As long as they took the same actions, so did Sans, and that means, they could easily learn how to overcome this joke. This cruel, twisted, sick joke of a monster. What was Sans talking about, now? Timelines? And how, after a certain point, every single one just… Ends? Fascinating. But they were never a fan of science fiction. And besides, if that was true, then that means Frisk had already won. So why was he delaying the inevitable...?

FILE 1 LOADED

Frisk hated Sans' platform attacks. Where the floor was overrun with bones and the only safety was a green-outlined black platform, which took them through a deadly gauntlet of bones and attacks. That's what just killed them—the movement, forcing them to stumble right into a laser. They don't let Sans finish his “judgement”, this time, not that it matters. He stops them before he has to expend any stamina dodging. And that's what this had come down to—a war of attrition. They just had to outlast this comedian, and then they would be done.

FILE 1 LOADED

Frisk hated Sans' attacks.

FILE 1 LOADED

Frisk hated Sans' ass-pull of a move that was the "blaster".

FILE 1 LOADED

Frisk hated this. Dying, over and over and over and over and over and over-

FILE 1 LOADED

But the one thing Frisk hated more than that… Was h i m. And that hate was what kept them going, all the way until Sans started to… Sweat? A few deaths ago, Frisk would've questioned it, but now? They just take the time to rest. Sans starts to speak again, and considering the sudden change in demeanor, Frisk decides to listen as the mood takes a drastic shift.

“…hey. kid.” He pauses for a moment. There was no response from the human. As usual.

He continues. "you ever get the feeling that, maybe, once upon a time, you could've done better?” Oh, god, was he really trying this again? Appealing to their humanity, or whatever?

“No.” Frisk's answer was blunt, but the fact that Sans got one at all came as a bit of a surprise to both parties.

“right. right… well. your face says otherwise. that's a look of recognition. or, at least, it was.” Sans is winking again. Frisk tightens their grip.

“i think… that not only could you have done better, but at some point…" Sans' expression shifts to one of worried understanding.

“…you did." A crack forms on the hilt of their knife. Their grip can't tighten any further, but they certainly try, to the point of their hand shaking.

“kiddo, 's your responsibility to do the 'right thing'. don't you remember it all? the puzzles, the good food, the bad laughs… the nice friends?” Wait, did he… Actually remember? Frisk thought only Flowey and themself could do that!

“don't you remember me? remember us? what we all shared, together, under the open sun?” Every word brings another memory to their mind. All the friends they made. And the happy life they lived, for a time, on the surface. They had… Fun.

“please. if you're listening to me, even a little... just put that weapon down. we don't have to fight. from one friend, to another... please.” They step forward after he stops talking, out of instinct, but moments later, they grow rigid. Sans… Remembered. They… What… How…? They look down at their dust-stained hands, their expression reflecting in the blade… The monster remains caked on nearly every inch of their skin. And they realized the grief Sans must be feeling. What… What were they doing? Their grip loosens, a little. Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Mettaton… They'd killed them all. They had killed their own fucking mom, why- The blade tumbled from their hands. It hits the floor, with a discordant clank.

They collapsed to their knees. They feel every sin, every LV, and every EXP crawling up their spine. It was almost too much to bear, with Frisk digging their nails into the floor, actually piercing some concrete or whatever it was made from, and pulling at it as though it were as malleable as sand. The material is crushed into a fine dust, in their hands. It floats away, carried by a soft breeze, much like every other speck of dust they'd spread through their travels.

Frisk doesn't dare to say anything. What is there to say, other than “I'm sorry”? And it's not like “sorry” is going to bring those dead monsters back. They could RESET. And upon remembering the power that brought them to this point in the first place, they immediately decide that's what they're going to do. As soon as… They do right by Sans. And accept his MERCY. Frisk is hesitant to stand, again. But they do. After a time. No matter how hard they try, the tears just won't come, but Sans can see the despair and desperation on their face.

Frisk brings out their little action wheel, cycling left once from FIGHT, to reach MERCY. They tap it, and hit Spare. Sans seems… Surprised, for a moment. But this surprise is swiftly suppressed. He smiles. “wow. didn't think you had it in ya, kid. after all that.” Frisk can't bring themselves to meet his gaze.

“i know how hard this must be, for you. to go back on everything you've worked up and throw it all away, at the last moment. but…” They try anyway. And partially succeed.

“i want you to know…” Sans steps forward.

“i won't let it go to waste.” He opens his arms, and winks.

“…c'mere, pal.” Frisk doesn't wait even a moment, rushing into Sans' arms immediately. They grab at his jacket, holding the hood tight, resting their face on his shoulder. The tears finally, mercifully, came, streaming down their cheeks and staining parts of the skeleton's apparel. It felt… Good. To just cry, like this. The agony they felt with each and every kill finally catching up to them, and exiting infinitely faster than it was gained. For a moment, everything felt… Okay, again. Like they were living in that Pacifist timeline they had, before. Like Sans… Understood. Everything was okay.

Then, they felt it. It barely even felt like a prick in their chest, and yet, looking down… A full-sharpened bone had been shoved through their heart. Their strength almost immediately fades, their knees buckling, causing them to fall over, landing on their side, and swiftly bleeding out. How they weren't dead yet was… A miracle. Sans stands over them, smiling, winking, and shrugging—the usual. What he said next, however, was entirely unexpected. “geeeetttttttttt dunked on!” Frisk was baffled, what little energy they had left being expended on this confusion.

“if we're really friends…” Hollow eyes, again.

“you won't come back.” And then… Frisk was dead. No fanfare. Nothing. Just…

FILE 1 LOADED

…Back in the corridor. At their Save Point. Silent and motionless, Frisk stood in the same spot for what was probably a good ten minutes. Just… Processing. Replaying the moment over, and over, and over, and over again in their head. The change in mood, the convincing plea from Sans, Frisk accepting it, Sans' betrayal kill… Sans, spare, death, Sans, spare, death, Sans, spare, death, until eventually… Frisk starts to laugh. At first, a low chuckle that quickly erupts into a cacophony of giggling! Sans… Just flipped the tables, on them. Sparing them, only to stab them in the back—that's exactly what they did! How poetic, honestly, bravo to that lazybones for even thinking to do that!

Alright, Frisk had to admit, this… It was the greatest joke Sans had ever told. They weren't upset. That would imply they had been wronged, but really, they got exactly what they deserved. Sans… Deserved this victory. That was the type of bold move that was so stupid that it actually worked. And Frisk had at least some respect for that. They summon the RESET button, right at their fingertips, still smiling from Sans' annoyingly effective prank, their laughter now a low rumble. “You win,” is all they utter, before hitting the button. The entire universe is enveloped in a white glow, and then… It all starts over.

THE END

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A Full Eight Hours

Fandom: The Bear

Ship: Sydney/Carmy (if you squint)

Summary: Carmy falls asleep in the office, nothing out of the usual, but not a habit that can’t be changed. 

Tik. Tik, tik, tik, tik. He doesn’t know the song playing, but in the seconds that have gone by he’s been able to tap along some sort of distorted rhythm. It matches enough to appease him, and he’s satiated for a moment as he tries to discern what’s happening around him.

His forehead is firmly pressed into the desk, and he can feel a slick sheen of sweat on his face. There’s papers over the floor and his spoon sits underneath where his hand now taps on his lap. He moves slow and groggy, trying to regain his composure.

Someone spins the office chair so the back of it is towards the desk, and he blinks once, twice, and a third time before realizing that Sugar is smiling down at him, though her eyes show more worry than she leads on. 

Keep reading

[awkwardlyflustered]

A Full Eight Hours

Fandom: The Bear

Ship: Sydney/Carmy (if you squint)

Summary: Carmy falls asleep in the office, nothing out of the usual, but not a habit that can’t be changed. 

Tik. Tik, tik, tik, tik. He doesn’t know the song playing, but in the seconds that have gone by he’s been able to tap along some sort of distorted rhythm. It matches enough to appease him, and he’s satiated for a moment as he tries to discern what’s happening around him.

His forehead is firmly pressed into the desk, and he can feel a slick sheen of sweat on his face. There’s papers over the floor and his spoon sits underneath where his hand now taps on his lap. He moves slow and groggy, trying to regain his composure.

Someone spins the office chair so the back of it is towards the desk, and he blinks once, twice, and a third time before realizing that Sugar is smiling down at him, though her eyes show more worry than she leads on. 

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[awkwardlyflustered]

um- mmmmen. men. boys. guys. ticklish men. men who wheeze. calm/stoic men who will start giggling as soon as you wiggle your fingers at them. guys who blush because of verbal teasing. feather ticklish bois. guys who like being chased. men who can ask for tickles. boys with ticklish ears. guys who would genuinely try to stay still for their ler. men who like both tickling others and being tickled. boys who are playful. mennnn. guys.

(If you're reading this you agree.)

[awkwardlyflustered]

Laugh More

A/N: It has been just a little bit, but I got swallowed by work and just life, so we’ll ignore it. Anyways, I’m more than delighted to come back with a NYSM fic, there just isn’t enough content for the Horsemen. Speaking of, thank you to @potatohater for prompting this little fic. Hopefully you don’t mind it being a little bit softer, I just love the dynamic of picked family/older brother and younger brother.

It started small, small enough for Daniel to just push it off as Jack being annoying. A quick poke here and there, not frequent enough for him to even see a pattern. Jack just couldn’t help himself, though, he had to start poking Daniel more often, and he had to start squeezing Daniel’s sides whenever he reached up, he had to scribble across Daniel’s soles whenever they were on the coffee table. After a few weeks of this, Atlas simply couldn’t take anymore of it. 

“Why!?” The curly haired man screeched after receiving yet another set of pokes for seemingly no reason. 

“Why what?” Jack asked, feigning innocence, knowing how much it’ll annoy Atlas. 

“What do you mean why wh-” he paused to glare at the younger boy. “I hate you, I hope you know that.”

“You love me~” he teased with a small smirk as his hand flew to the street magician’s stomach to buzz into the muscle. Daniel jumped back with a squeal, trying in earnest to cover it up with a quick cough. 

“Quit doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“I’m going to murder you.”

“Please, you’re all talk, we both know it.”

“Shut up. Plus you never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Why?”

“Why wh-” 

Daniel cut him off before this little roundabout conversation could go any further. “Why do you keep tickling me all the time?” Jack stood for a moment and pondered as to whether or not he should actually tell him. 

“You just don’t really laugh, but when you do you sound so happy!” Jack’s face turned a shade redder before he mumbled out the rest of his statement. “I like when you sound happy and I wanted to make it happen more.” Daniel’s eyes softened at the younger boy and he smiled, pulling him closer to ruffle his hair. 

"I think I laugh a lot, thank you,” He started, the smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But I’m not gonna stop you if you want to make it happen a little more often.” Jack looked the equivalent to a puppy who just got told they’re getting a treat. “Hey don’t get too excited, or I’ll have to start getting you back,” Daniel teased, reaching out to pinch Jack’s sides. The con artist squeaked and grabbed Daniel’s hands. 

“I’m not the one who needs to laugh more! You are!” Daniel didn’t say anything, simply reached around to try to prod at Wilder’s ribs. In retaliation, Jack reached for Daniel’s sides. The two of them wrestled around for several minutes. Choruses of giggles from the both of them echoed through the house until Jack was finally able to pin Daniel down. 

It was certainly a sight to see, the two of them breathing heavily, smiles plastered across both of their faces, and a blush that spread to their ears. 

“I win,” Jack taunted, pinning Daniel’s arms up above his head with one arm. 

“Yeah yeah yeah, you can let me go now.”

“Mmmm I don’t think so. I told you, you need to laugh more,” as he said it, he started lowering his hand towards the older man’s stomach

“Nonononohohohohohoho!” Jack couldn’t help but absolutely beam at Daniel. He loved nothing more than making him laugh uncontrollably for a little while. He started vibrating into the sensitive tummy, making Daniel cackle. 

After a couple minutes, Jack started getting bored of doing the exact same thing over and over again. He stopped for just a minute so that he could begin rolling up Atlas’ shirt. 

“Ohohokay you got me to laugh now let me go,” Daniel practically whined, weakly tugging on his arms. 

“Mmm not yet, you still haven’t laughed enough for the tickle monster’s liking.”

“Don’t call yourself thaHAHAHAHAT HEHEHEHEY!” Before Daniel could finish, Jack started massaging his ribs. Daniel kicked his feet and tugged at his arms much more aggressively than before. Usually he could take the tickling on his ribs fine, but without the protection of his shirt, he couldn’t handle it. Jack was absolutely giddy at the discovery of just how much damage his fingers can do. 

“But what if I just start…” he trailed off, slowly climbing his fingers upwards towards Daniel’s “favorite” spot.

“JAHAHAHACK PLEHEHEHEASE ANYWHERE BUHUT THEHERE!” Jack stopped his fingers abruptly, slowly dragging them back down the older man’s torso. 

“As you wish.” Daniel, somewhat bewilderedly, couldn’t do anything but giggle when Jack started pinching away at his hips. His thumbs drilled into them, rubbing small circles making Daniel buck up every time. 

“Mmmmm I’m starting to get bored,” the young magician warned, starting to climb his fingers again.

“NOHOHOHO IHIHI CAHAHANT!!” Daniel begged again, trying so desperately to get his arms out of Jack’s grasp. 

“Hmm too bad.” With that, Jack dug into Daniel’s underarms, scribbling away as fast as he could manage. Immediately, Daniel went silent with laughter. The tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes came faster than either of them liked. His already red face darkened several more shades. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to continue pulling at his arms, he just had to lie there and pray for mercy.

Jack only tickled him for about a minute more, too afraid Daniel would literally explode to continue. As soon as Jack let go, Daniel’s arms came crashing down as he worked his way through the rest of the residual giggles. 

“Dihihi I laugh enough for you?”

“Mmm not quite, but I’m sure I’ll get the rest later when you don’t look like a tomato’s twin.” Daniel glared at the young boy before continuing.

“You know, I don’t quite remember what your laugh sounds like. I think I need to find out.”

“N-no I don’t think we need to find anything out.” Jack managed to stutter out as he slowly backed away from Daniel. 

“Oh no, we definitely do,” Daniel argued, standing up to grab the dark haired boy. Jack couldn’t help the cheshire grin that spread across his face as he sprinted away, hearing the thundering footsteps following close behind him.

[awkwardlyflustered]

Fandom: Now you see me

Characters: Daniel Atlas & Jack Wilder

Word count: 481

I’M BACK BABY‼️‼️ sorry was kinda just drowning in school work and shit; rewatched Now You See Me movies s few days ago and AS I SHOULD decided to take the matter into my own hands and write something since there was only one fanfic I found☠️ feels weird to acc write the idea you have in you mind ifykyk; anyway it’s probably gonna have 3,5 likes so here we go:)

Also @awkwardlyflustered I decided to write something ab these two too, so since the fandom is drop dead you can check this one out

;

“No way you are ticklish!?” Jack grinned after poking older man’s stomach a few times causing him to squirm away

“Don’t touch me. Do you hear me?” Daniel said, eyes nervously running all around the room, looking for something to protect him

Jack just smiled wider, not fully believing that one of the most stoic man he knows falls under umbrella of such silly things as being ticklish. His other hand grabbed Atlas’s arm in order to keep him in place while other rapidly vibrated into his stomach

Loud chuckle escaped Daniel’s mouth as he hided his smile behind his palm, other hand trying to fight younger man

“Yohou– stop it” he squirmed harder, trying to bite his cheek to look more serious than he actually was. Jack’s hand traveled from his stomach to his underarm, making him squeak. Curly haired man quickly pulled his hands back from the mouth and Jack, protecting his weak spot, eyes filled with fear and sparkling with unexpected childlessness, making him look younger a few years

The next thing that Daniel felt were 10 fingers under his arms, making him fall on his back and trying his best not to make any noises. His eyes were crinkled with playfulness, while his mouth tried to show that he doesn’t find it funny at all

“Come on man, you know you want to laugh” Wilder’s mouth melted into the biggest smile the other one had seen ever. Something in his eyes were so pure, like a kid getting the toy he wanted for Christmas

Anyway Daniel thought that sooner or later he will laugh, so letting everything go he let his voice fill the room. His laughter unlike him was very bright, almost bubbly. He wasn’t the type of person to laugh out loud, even during casual nights he only allowed himself to grin or chuckle (if the joke was really great). Partly because of his insecurities about how he might sound, partly because he already had an image of a socially awkward guy who wants to look serious. In the end it didn’t matter because right now he was laughing his head off in what seemed, months

“Ah-ha! There it is” Jack’s hands warmed in Daniel’s underarms. He could see small, almost invisible wrinkles around older man’s eyes from laughing, the thought of never seeing him actually laugh only hit him now. With that he spend a few more seconds rubbing his knuckles into Atlas’s higher ribs until he let the poor man go

“If yohou are—”

“I’m not gonna tell anyone” Jack chuckled, seeing Daniel’s messy hair even more messy when the shy smile still shined on his lips

“You should really smile and laugh more you know? Or you can become a second version of Grinch” younger man said, patting Daniel’s chest and getting out of the room before he could get him back