#The only lyrics I remember are 'its four o clock in the morning' it's been removed from yt. Anyway! Good day

[hajihiko]

I had a dream the other night

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n, tommy, wilbur and phil

requested: yes/no

an: part 7 of the great adventures series - a rollercoaster of emotions

warnings: cursing, jokes about death (like the vlog) , didn’t proof read as its 6am sorry for any mistakes

it had been around a week since you last spoke to tubbo, the pair of you got into a heated argument and honestly you didn’t want to be anywhere near the boy. no one heard from you since you and tubbo blocked each other, ranboo would talk to you about how you need to forgive and forget and Tommy would do the same to tubbo eventually you unblocked each other however apart from that it was pretty much useless neither of you were willing to talk to the other person, it was just one of those things that needed time, soon enough you’d be friends again. at least you hoped that would be the case. later that day Wilbur sent you a message asking what time he should pick you up tomorrow not wanting to argue you let him know a time and went off to get ready for the night.

The car ride to Alton towers was pretty quiet the majority of the ride was spent playing random car games like eye spy or singing along to the radio as there was no traffic you got there rather quickly giving you longer in the park. you loved theme parks and Tommy knew this so he took the opportunity to invite you and get you out of the house, he also knew he would need the support. Phil began recording as you all made your way through the park the sky car was first so you could get to the other half of the park Tommy made it pretty clear he wasn’t the biggest fan of this and you and Wilbur didn’t help his cause by discussing the recent crash in Italy that killed a group of people, you pointed out all the rides you passed teasing Tommy whilst Wilbur interviewed him on why he wanted to hit 10 million subs, as soon as Tommy mentioned the girl from college your eyes widened and you sat trying not to laugh as Wilbur and Phil sat telling him to call her. Tommy looked at you trying to get back up but you responded by telling him you want to speak to her.

once off the sky car you stood with an arm around Tommy's shoulders as Wilbur spoke to the girl who you’re hoping is in on it and that they’re not calling up the poor girl unexpectedly. as soon as you were informed that her favourite ride was the smiler Tommy pulled you into a hug hiding his face in the crook of your neck

“Are you serious”

“you’ll be fine it’s the safest ride here...if you ignore the crash”

“y/nnnnn”

the four of you walked around the park looking for an easy rollercoaster as you make your way up to the smiler, the blade caught Wilbur's eye so the three of you made your way whilst Phil decided to stay back to record, you sat next to Tommy reassuring him that he’s going to be fine and how it can’t be that bad as a family with a young child got on the ride after you.

“if I pee myself will you laugh at me”

“yes..actually that’ll make it easier for me”

“Please don’t do that Wilbur”

“only for you y/n”

the ride started slowly however the speed soon picked up you sat laughing as Tommy went on to make references about technoblade and how he’s never going to die. soon enough the three of you began ‘singing’ the lyrics to road trip in an attempt to calm down a little bit. was it working? no. a few minutes later the ride came to an end as you made your way off of the ride you heard a child screaming about how fun it was

“awe”

“how is that six-year-old shouting I loved it”

“are we cowards”

“yes, yes you are”

you made it to Phil first and rambled on about how fun it was before Wilbur and Tommy made it to you both wanting to go home

on your journey to the next ride, Tommy pointed out claw machines and dragged you to them, Phil had a go first and didn’t win the dog Tommy wanted, you had a go determined to win however like Phil you didn’t win

“This is bullshit ill buy you a toy dog”

“Why are you never satisfied”

“Good question”

you walked away from the machines with the others Tommy complained that he was being forced to go on the rides, you pointed at the smiler and Wilbur announced you could all go on that now, the rest of the walk was pretty quiet after that. soon enough you were in the queue to go on duel, you were walking with Phil not realising that Wilbur was currently telling your best friend that he was going to die, the only reason you found out was because Tommy ran up to you asking if he was going to die

“Tommy, no who told you that... Wilbur stop laughing it’s not- it’s not funny”

“y/n you’re quite literally laughing”

you put your finger on your lips and walked off. you sat with Phil so you could have a break from Tommy screaming in your ear as soon as Tommy yelled there were guns the ride began, you weren’t the best at this ride you missed the target a few too many times than you’d like to admit, once the ride was over Tommy made the mistake of laughing about how low your score was you made eye contact with Tommy and placed your hand on his shoulder

“Tommy... you screamed at everything the entire way around. if that ride was any longer i’m afraid I’d lose my hearing”

“didn’t you also do shit Tommy”

“fuck off”

and with that you left the ride walking through the gift shop, you and Tommy were like little children picking up anything that was covered in bright colours, you and Tommy found a squishy monster and named it Clarence you ended up getting attached and Wilbur stayed with you as you paid for it whilst Phil and Tommy were leaving the shop

“Phil we lost y/n and Wilbur”

“sorry y/n got distracted”

you all continued walking to the next ride Tommy instantly got distracted by the dryer outside of the river rapids ride and spent a good few minutes asking to go into the dryer. at this point, you noticed another toy shop and ran off to that one whilst they argued with Tommy about the dryer a few minutes later you met up with them again as you began making your way to the next ride

“what I hate the most about Phil is his kindness”

“wasn’t kind enough to let me win on duel”

“I pray on his downfall”

Phil turned to you only to be met with you nodding as Tommy goes on to talk about hating his generosity

“Phil I've been thinking about you... it’s ruined my day”

“mine was ruined by Tommy screaming at stupid o clock in the morning”

“y/n it’s 12 pm”

“okay and I usually wake up at 3 pm this is early for me”

you stood in the queue for river rapids, as much as you wanted to make Tommy calm down you hated this ride and Wilbur saying there was a chance of drowning made you hate it even more

“y/n will we be fine”

“no this is horrifying I remember the incident where someone was dragged under a ride like this”

“Y/N”

“what are you two thinking about then”

“I’m thinking about the beyond”

“I’m thinking about the sweet release of death”

“you might be going there”

“no, we won’t”

you and Tommy began to panic as you got closer to the ride, Tommy announced the floor was moving which tricked your brain into believing that the floor was moving, Wilbur was still talking about you all dying in a few minutes whilst laughing at Phil trying to make him stop despite the fact he was clearly laughing. Tommy got on first as you were making your way to a seat Tommy pulled you over to him so you were sat together. a worker came over and told you all to keep your seat during the ride

“can I get off”

as soon as you finished your sentence the ride began to move making the others laugh

“ill take that as a no”

a few minutes later you forgot you were scared as you were too busy laughing about the fact that so far out of the four of you the only person getting drenched in water was Phil. this newfound confidence didn't last long the ride began going faster and you and Tommy got drenched in water

“We made it through the second most dangerous part”

“heh...”

you looked at Phil tilting your head waiting for him to confirm that Wilbur was just trying to scare you again. your thoughts were interrupted by Wilbur beginning to speak to the camera

“Alton towers is a very safe and risk-free theme park fun for all the family”

he flipped the camera so the three of you could be seen Phil was laughing Tommy had his head in his hands and you were sat with your hood over your head hiding your face so you couldn’t see what was going to happen. Phil told you to hold on but he was interrupted by Wilbur using the camera to record the four of you together again it was clear you and Tommy were not having the most fun on the ride compared to the others. the ride crashed into the small wall next to the ride causing it to jerk forward making the four of you hit your leg

“my fucking thigh”

“y/n there are children nearby”

“y/n, Tommy you two are lucky to be alive”

you and Tommy turned to face each other then looked back at Wilbur who was continuing to chant that you’re lucky to be alive clearly ignoring Phil who was telling him to stop. eventually, the ride came to an end and you all got off, Phil helped you walk around for a minute as your legs felt extremely weak after that ride

“you okay now y/n”

“yeah yeah thank you, Phil. I'm never going on that ride again”

you all made your way to the centre of the park Wilbur disappeared as you and Tommy stood begging Phil for cotton candy, your only argument being that you really wanted it

“please Phil”

“We can have a little”

“we’re growing Phil we need more than a little”

“it’s diabetes in a box”

“it’s pure joy”

“yeah it’s fun in a box let us get some”

“stop being a dick”

Wilbur came running out of a shop carrying as much cotton candy as he could shouting for you and Tommy to take some and run which you gladly did. the pair of you sat on the grass eating as much cotton candy as you could

“ITS BLUEBERRY”

“that is so sugary”

you and Tommy both grabbed a fistful of cotton candy waving it at the two adults in front of you both, resulting in Phil calling you both goblins, they both walked away leaving you two to enjoy each other’s company for a little while whilst they had a break from the pair of you screaming.

“that’s..that's Tommy and y/n”

it was almost time to face the smiler but before that, you had to conquer oblivion again this was another ride that terrified you but Tommy's reaction to the ride made you laugh for a good few minutes until you realised you were in the queue

“oh fuck. we are going to die”

“you’ll impress the girl and y/n you’ll impress tubbo”

“ill buy her flowers”

“This is a death trap” you went on first and sat a few seats away from the middle Tommy not far behind you

“if we die ill never forgive you”

“you’ll be fine”

“will we though”

“I mean”

“Tommy she was hesitant to answer that get me off this ride”

just like last time the ride started just as you finished trying to get off the ride

“y/n you really need to stop asking to get off the rides it makes them start earlier”

the way to the top of the ride was mainly just you and Tommy yelling curse words trying to stay calm

“Phil do we have to”

“Why could I not stay with Wilbur”

“awe look at the view”

“can we just stay up here- oh shit don’t look down”

“any last words”

“lovely knowing you all”

just before the ride was about to go down the drop Tommy grabbed your hand only letting go for a minute whilst you got off of the ride, as soon as you were making your way to Wilbur so you could all go on the spinball wizard ride he held your hand again keeping you close. your way to the ride was a range of Wilbur telling you all about the smiler or Tommy telling you all he was worried he was going to piss

“what the fuck is yours and Wilburs obsession with announcing you might piss on the ride”

you sat with Wilbur for this ride as he was the only person you hadn’t sat with yet and Tommy sat behind you both, you and Wilbur spent the ride screaming, yelling song lyrics or saying your goodbyes

“for lmanburg”

“Should I be worried.. you did you know create an explosion”

you spent the rest of the ride laughing before it came to an end. you all made your way to the smiler making jokes about how it’s all the girl from college wants to see him on.

“you ready Tommy”

“let’s go home”

“no”

“y/n you’re supposed to be on my team”

the four of you made your way through the gates ignoring Tommy who was yelling about it being a prison simulator, you sat at the end next to Tommy

“so this is safe”

“apart from the crashes yeah”

“y/n? is it safe?”

“it’s safe Tommy I can see you’re genuinely scared I wouldn’t lie in a time like this..maybe”

you and Wilbur agreed to become his wingmen and a few seconds later the ride began, you spent the ride laughing quietly as Tommy began confessing his love

“POGCHAMP”

“I WISH I SAT SOMEWHERE ELSE”

as soon as the ride ended you stood as a group again and called the girl from college, Wilbur practically yelled about how Tommy went on the smiler only for the girl to ask who Tommy was and how she wasn’t friends with him

“it’s okay mate”

“you okay Tommy”

you and Wilbur pulled Tommy into a hug.

a few minutes later you all made your way back to the car park as it was getting late. once in the car you handed Tommy the squishy monster you both named Clarence, Tommy screamed whilst pulling you into a hug before asking you how and when you were able to buy it. when you were halfway home you began to get a migraine Tommy pulled you into a side hug so you could rest your head on his shoulder and have a nap for the rest of the journey back home.

a few days late you received a message

tubbo: I miss you

y/n: I suppose I miss you too

tubbo: that’s good because I’m outside please let me inside

y/n: on it!!

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @c1loudee

[pinknerdpanda]

Christmas Eve

Word Count: 1341 (including lyrics, in italics below) Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, Cas Warnings: All the fluffiest of fluffs Requested by: My amazing and wonderful and sweet and kind and hilarious Soul Sister @wheresthekillswitch. Love you, boo.

A/N: This was written for my Merry Manda’s Panda Presents celebration. This was beta’d by @hannahindie and @trexrambling. The beautiful aesthetic was made by my lovely reptilian friend @trexrambling. Thank you my love!

Masterlist

Christmas Eve

“Sam?” Your voice is a choked whisper in the dark. “Sam?!”

A deep, rumbling groan from your left makes you jump. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here. You ok?”

“I think so.” You take a silent inventory of your limbs and vital organs, thankful to find only minor aches and scrapes. You hope it stays that way when the adrenaline wears off. “You?”

The sound of boots and fabric scraping on concrete is deafening as he shifts his position. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“What happened?”

He sighs, “They got the jump on us, I guess. They must’ve been expecting us.”

You push yourself up, carefully, unsure of your surroundings. Fear seizes you from the inside, swirling in your gut and spreading slowly, but steadily, like a flame. Sucking in a deep breath, you count silently to yourself. Five...four...three...two...one.

“Y/n?” Sam’s hand slaps gently along the floor until it finds yours. He gives it a gentle squeeze before releasing it, but you clutch on to him desperately, something you are sure you wouldn’t have done if there’d been any light at all in this godforsaken hellhole. Sam’s voice is soothing as he rubs circles against your hand with his thumb. “Stay with me, okay? We are going to be fine. Dean is still out there, and Cas was on his way. They’ll find us.”

You nod and then roll your eyes. It’s dark, dumbass. “Thanks Sam.” You give his hand a limp squeeze and let go, wrapping your arms around your knees and drawing them to your chest. “Where are we?”

“Cellar, I’m guessing.” He sighs. “And of course my phone's dead.”

You smack yourself in the forehead. “I left mine in the car on the charger. Great.”

There’s a soft rustling and a faint zipping sound before a flicker of light burns through the darkness.  The amber flame in Sam’s hand casts a small circle of warm light, dancing briefly over the planes of Sam’s handsome face before extinguishing. Sam lights another match, and this time you turn your attention to your surroundings. The room is small and bare, and it’s not immediately clear if Sam would even be able to stand up straight. The match burns out and he lights another. This time you hurriedly scan for a door before the light is gone again.

“Door’s over there. I think you’re right. Looks like a cellar.”

“Yeah, and not a very tall one at that,” Sam groans.

You both begin trying to find the door, hitting tentatively at every surface your hands brush. After a few seconds, a loud banging rattle sounds from your left, and you can tell the locks aren’t budging.

“Well, looks like we're waiting for the cavalry. So much for a milk run.” Sam’s shoulder brushes yours as he settles beside you.

You're not sure how long you spend in the dark, talking about everything from your childhood to Sam’s top ten favorite books, but just as the conversation reached a pause, a sound from above you catches your attention; twelve deep, rich chimes from a clock , their cadence slow and somber. You chuckle sadly.

“It's midnight. Merry Christmas, y/n.” Sam’s voice is thick and full of exhaustion.

“Merry Christmas, Sam.” It's hard to contain the sadness in your voice as a single, small tear falls from your lashes, trailing slowly down your cheek. For the first time all night, you're thankful for the pitch black of the cellar.

Sam's hand finds yours again, and this time his long, slender fingers slot with yours as he scoots closer to you. “Hey, it's going to be ok, y/n. Dean and Cas…”

“No it's not that,” you interrupt him, hating the fact that he knows you're upset. It's even worse that he thinks it's because you're still afraid. “It's just...I had planned on going home to go see my sister for Christmas. I was going to surprise her and go to the midnight candlelight Christmas service with her.”

Sam sighs, “I'm sorry, y/n. I really thought this job would be pretty cut and dry, and I knew you were in the area, and it had been awhile… I should never have called you in on it.”

“Don't do that whole ‘shoulda woulda coulda’ bit, Sam. I'm glad you called me. I've missed you.”

Sam's grip on your fingers tightens, and he’s silent for a minute.

“I've missed you too,” he whispers, and then falls silent again for a while. “You know, if you wanted to...we could...I mean...since it's midnight…”

You can almost hear him rubbing the back of his neck raw with his free hand. Giggling lightly, you squeeze his hand. “I would like that.”

He releases your hand and there's another zipping sound. After several seconds of rustling, Sam lights another match, this time pressing the tiny flame to the tip of what looks like a crayon. The tip ignites, the flame from the makeshift candle only minutely brighter than the match itself.

“Is that a crayon?” you muse, and Sam nods, proudly. “Why do you have a… Oh my Lord, what is that?” You point, horrified, at his waist. “Sam, please don't tell me that's a fanny pack.”

“Hey, it's functional*, ok?” He grins. “It's so much easier than having my pockets weighted down with salt and matches and extra ammo.”

“Hey, you do you, Winchester. But you can't expect me not to laugh about it.”

“You sound like Dean.” Sam’s brilliant hazel eyes twinkle in the fragile light. “Ok, what’s next?”

You sigh and tug on your bottom lip with your teeth. “I don't know, really. It's been years since I've been to one. I remember they always sang Christmas carols.”

“What's your favorite?” Sam tips his head toward you, his chestnut hair falling over one eye. He casually smoothes it back out of his face and chuckles when he meets your gaze. You divert your eyes, cursing yourself for staring.

“It's…Uh… My favorite carol is….uh…’O Holy Night’,” you stammer, avoiding his gaze.

“That's a good one. Will you start it?” he encourages.

O holy night the stars are brightly shining It is the night of our dear Savior's birth Long lay the world in sin and error pining Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth

You sneak a glance at Sam, his eyes fixed directly on you. Your voices, warbled and lacking finesse, swell as you continue. This time, it's your hand that finds Sam's.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Your crescendo is interrupted abruptly as the small cellar door swings open, a pale rectangle of moonlight flooding the small room. You and Sam wrench your heads up, preparing for the worst, and find Dean and Cas, crouched around the door. Dean’s voice is obnoxiously loud as he belts the next line.

Fall on your knees O hear the angels' voices

“Come on, Cas, let ‘em hear that angel’s voice.” Dean slaps him on the shoulder, and Cas turns his head slowly toward him, tipping his head to one side and frowning.

“I do not sing, Dean. That is the job of the Heavenly Host, of which I am not a member.” His voice is low and his tone sarcastic. “And besides, the song says ‘angels’ voices’, implying there is more than one present…”

Dean cuts him off, “Ok, forget it, moment’s ruined.” He turns his attention back to you and Sam. “Ho ho ho, and a merry Christmas. Let's get you two out of there.”

Sam rolls his eyes as he huffs out the now superfluous flame. He holds it out to you, hesitantly, and your fingers brush his as you accept the half-melted red crayon. There’s the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lips as he looks away and stands. He turns to offer you a hand, but you’re already up and dusting yourself off. His smile grows to its fullest dimpled potential.

“Merry Christmas, y/n.”

*A/N 2: I take no credit for the idea of Sam wearing a fanny pack and/or the line “it’s functional”. This is the pure genius of @wheresthekillswitch and only intended as a nod to one of my favorite drabbles of hers. Love you babes. :)

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags - Stay weird. I love y’all: @wheresthekillswitch @pretty-fortune @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @deansdirtyduchess @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67  @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @almusanzug @feelmyroarrrr @captainradicalpassion @bethbabybaby @thinkwritexpress-official @akshi8278 @hexparker @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m  @easelweasel @masksandtruths @ellen-reincarnated1967 @growningupgeek @there-must-be-a-lock @sylverminx @mrswhozeewhatsis @amanda-teaches @cassieraider @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @its-my-perky-nipples @squirrel-moose-winchester @carryonmyswansong @sandlee44

Christmas Tags: @sillesworldofwriting

[kawaiibobatea-blog]

Chapter 02: Addiction

As Sans trudged through the snow, a small smirk gripped into the edge of his cheek bone. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. It felt good to get that reaction out of her. Her blue eyes had went wide and then looked down at the ground. The hand that had attempted to reach out to him fell back next to her side. Despite him being drunk, the memory was crystal clear as was the satisfaction he got from her defeated look. Even he has to admit that his personality was twisted. The crunching of the snow beneath his feet was slowly bringing him back to reality.

It hadn't even been five minutes since he left Grillby's and he was already craving another bottle. Thankfully, he had another one as well as a half eaten bag of chips in the fridge at home. Maybe those bottles and the chips would be enough to get him through the night. If what the kid had said was true, then all of his friends would be gone until early in the morning. Karaoke with his friends could be interesting since it almost always ended up turning into a competition on who could best the other.

Stopping, he looked up at the night sky. If he had been a human, he would have been very cold and would have sought the heat of the house with haste. Of course, being a monster, it took him longer to get hot or cold. Normally, he would have taken the time to stay outside and take in the beauty of the stars. After all, it was a beautiful night outside. Crickets were chirping, snow was falling. On nights like this, skeletons like him, should have been sightseeing. However, in the state that she was currently in, he felt that he wouldn't be able to take in the true beauty of the nebula swirling in the sky.

His thoughts were silent, the only sound was the loud crunch of the snow. He supposed that he could think later. With every breath that he took, the puff of smoke grew larger and larger. He needed to get inside now. Finally, his house came into view. It reminded him of the house they had back in Snowdin minus the shed and the workshop that he had once had. They still had that ever present wreath hanging on the door. It was Papyrus' favorite and once he realized they had forgotten it many tears had been "caught" in his eyes.

Once Sans was inside, the first bite of chill that had seeped its way into his bones had begun to make an appearance. He zipped up his jacket tighter and went to the thermostat, checking the temperature; 70°. Knowing that he would end up getting a lecture from Papyrus from touching the thermostat, but also not caring, he turned it up to 80°. When Paps got home, he would thank him... Maybe. His feet took him staggering to the kitchen.

The house was silent, the ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room. Focusing on that so he wouldn't think, his mind was autopilot. Opening the fridge, a smile snuck up on his face. There they were, more bottles than he had thought. Papyrus must have gotten him some. He felt bad in a way, he asked Papyrus to get him some ketchup and while he knew what it did to Sans, he didn't really notice how much he consumed in a weekly--no daily basis. Of course, no matter what he did, he knew Papyrus would always believe in him. Maybe, he just had to believe in himself.

Shaking his skull, he grabbed two bottles from the fridge to start out with, and plopped himself down on the couch, hearing the familiar jingling of the coins set his mind at ease. Downing the bottles of ketchup seemed to be second nature, trying to keep his attention on the program that he was watching. Yet, despite his best efforts, he felt his mind wandering again. His troubles creeping to the forefront of his mind, probing there, wanting... No, DEMANDING to be heard.

An angry sigh, recently his primary emotion, escaped his mouth. He stood up, the coins in the couch even sounding angry clinking together. "... dammit, this is ridiculous..." He cursed under his breath, wiping his hand down his face. Heading back to the fridge to grab more bottles. Sans looked at the familiar red bottles. If he wouldn't be able to push his troubles out of his mind, or even at the least to the back of his mind, then he would just drown it out. That seemed to be logical, right?

Hours had passed, songs with lyrics filled with emotions he hadn't felt in a long time--other than with Paps--played in the background; faceless actors glided across the screen in an attempt to draw one into the world they were trying to portray. It wasn't working. In fact, it was having the exact opposite effect. While the faceless man was laughing and smiling, he was only getting angrier by the passing second. How could he achieve happiness so quick? Was that possible and he was just becoming pessimistic?

One would think that since they got their happy ending, he would forever be joyful, but that wasn't realistic. Every scene he was just getting angrier and feeling more defeated by his own emotions. The woman on the screen seemed to glide across the screen in a wistful manner. Her hands were dainty and her smile was bright even as she hugged the man, glad to see her. Was it just him that was unhappy? He didn't understand why. "lies." He said aloud to no one but himself. Why pretend? He knew he was lying. He knew why. He knew his troubles were making him this way.

Bottles of ketchup, next to a smaller pile of mustard littered the floor around the couch and the small side table. It was even a mess to him which said something, but he had no inspiration to clean it up nor the desire. This was getting bad if he wasn't even starting to taste the condiments. One of the things he was worried about was that he was going to end up being immune to the taste, and drink up until even a monster body couldn't handle it. Pathetic, wasn't it? That his only constant worry was going to be about his habits.

Another one finished, he tossed the bottle somewhere in the room not even caring where it landed anymore. His vision had been double, then triple, and now it was bordering on quadruple. No matter how much he blinked, the four images wouldn't come into focus. He snickered, a deep rumble bubbling in his sternum and traveling its way up to his trachea. He didn't even know what he found funny, but nevertheless, he tilted his head back. His mouth opened and that deep rumble spilled out into a laugh and soon he found himself laughing at nothing in the almost complete silence of his own home.

It just kept coming, the deep laughter. It occasionally decreased into a snicker, but then before it could any more, it escalated into that laugh once more. If his bones could feel minute pain like a human's body could, he was sure that his ribs would've been hurting. With great effort, he lifted his skull back up from the back of the couch and stared at the TV. He stood up, or his current version of standing up, and staggered to the kitchen. When he checked the fridge, he had only four bottles. He chuckled, another deep grumble began to stir in his sternum. They'd be gone before Papyrus got home.

True to his word, the four bottles; two of each condiment found their way on the floor within a matter of minutes. His sight graduated into a whole new kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. Another laughed bubbled from his mouth. Despite his addiction, there were worse things he could be addicted to. After all, these WERE only condiments, despite the effects it had on him. "yer s' pathetic." He berated himself again, shaking his head. The whole word spun, but not in a bad way. It wouldn't be a bad way until the morning, afternoon, evening, whenever he felt like waking up. He didn't want to think about that right now though.

His abdomen rumbled. The stage of the munchies had started. From the kitchen he grabbed another bag of chips and dug into those. "abs'lut'y pathetic." He muttered again, putting some chips into his mouth. When he was done, that bag ended up where? You guessed it. On the floor with the rest of the remains of his most recent escapade. Since he had depleted all the bottles and chips he had in the house, he figured it was a good time to call it a night.

Sans stood, staggering towards the stairs and gripping onto the banister of the stairs tightly, having to try a couple times since his phalanges were grabbing some mirages conjured by his drunken state. His foot had just touched the first step in his trek to the top when the phone rang. Using the wall for support, he made it to the phone on the wall. He deliberated for a few moments on whether to answer it. It could be trouble, but it could also be Papyrus checking in on him. Despite what Paps said, Sans knew the truth. He was the good brother, Sans was the bad--of if he was being truthful to himself--the disgrace.

The voice on the other end of the phone surprised him, and a devious smile came to his mouth. He leaned against the wall and folded his arm over the other. It was a human woman, one that he had met with once or twice. Though... at the current moment he couldn't remember her name. In his defense however, he was having problems remembering where his brother had even went to that night. "no, i don't mind." He answered her. "Are you sure?" The voice was courteous, but was obvious that she didn't need convincing. " o' course. have i e'er lied to ya?" The question was rhetorical and they both knew it, but neither of them said anything to the contrary. "Alright, Sansy. I'll see you soon."

Sans hung up after her and stayed leaning against the wall. His eyes were half lidded by the time the knock came at the door. When he opened it, the woman smiled brightly at him, a red color painting her lips while a pink dusted her nose and cheeks from the cold. He never understood how humans could deal with the winter if their bodies could be so easily chilled, despite the warm clothes they wore.

"Are you going to invite me in or just stare?" She had asked. Sans stepped out of her way and let the woman in. "can't i do both?" He asked, watching as she kicked the door closed behind her, never taking her eyes off Sans. Without saying anything else, Sans watched as her warm coat fell to the floor behind her. She crossed the distance between them, a smile never leaving her painted lips.

Yes, for now at least, his troubles would disappear.

[3rdgymbros]

i (almost) had you

A/N: Hey guys! So I've recently gotten into Bungou Stray Dogs, and this is one of the many stories that I have planned. It's my first time writing for BSD, so I hope I've done a good job! As always, reviews and reblogs are VERY appreciated!

(Mentions of violence/torture up ahead, so I’ve put it under a read more!)

“You can’t do a double suicide alone ~”

Dazai’s voice, smooth like honeyed velvet, fills the cosy interior of the small car, a small cocoon of goodness and warmth against the outside world. In the driver’s seat, Kunikida gnashes his teeth together, but refrains from saying anything. Beside you, Atsushi presses his face against the window, looking young and bright-eyed with curiosity as he stares at the mountains, valleys and lush green trees passing by.

The four of you had played rock-paper-scissors to decide who’d get choose the music, and Dazai had won, much to Kunikida’s dismay and Dazai’s delight. You hadn’t minded much – Dazai’s voice was always pleasant to listen to, even if he altered the lyrics beyond belief.

The late nights and early mornings inevitably catch up with you when you sit still for too long. Your eyes drift shut. You jerk awake. Atsushi’s still staring out the window, and his heat against you relaxes your core. Loathe to disturb the little slice of peace by bringing up the subject of the mission, you’re content with simply relaxing and listening to Dazai sing. When you sit like this, your mind wanders to your early years, to a red headed man that you think of at the oddest moments. Your father. You can’t remember him clearly.

Everything was quiet. All you heard is your pulse, roaring in your ears, and your ragged breathing. You gazed around the blindingly white room, at the men talking into a camera just a few feet away from you, and for just for a moment you felt a sense of calm. So this was the knowledge that you were about to die, that no one could help you, that it would all be over in a few short seconds.

Survival instincts kicked in, and you screamed, thrashing uselessly against the rope that bound your wrists and ankles.

Laughter. Words that you couldn’t understand.

Something hits your face, hard, and warmth spread over your cheek and the bridge of your nose, though there wasn’t any pain. You’re hit again. You felt the skin at your temple split open, the wet warmth trickling down your cheek and mixing with the panic sweat. A weight landed on you, screeching, tearing at you, and bright strips of fire began to spread across your shoulders.

It did no good to scream, but that’s what you did anyway. Another face filled your vision, and all you can see is a grinning face and teeth and eyes that glittered with malice. There was a series of sharp, awful cracks, but your mind barely registered the pain as your fingers were broken, one by one.

All you could think about were the blades tearing through skin and sinew, ripping open your chest and stomach, but you had to keep it away from your throat.

And then more men closed in, screaming, ripping. And the last thing you remembered, before the bloody red haze finally melted into blackness, was a flash of something bright and the coppery tang of your blood and flesh as the knife carved its way into your body.

Then there was blissful nothingness.

When you woke up, you knew you were in hell. Your whole body was on fire, or at least it felt that way, though you couldn’t see the flames. You shouldn’t move; the pain flared up sickeningly whenever you so much as pulled in a ragged breath. The room was still blindingly bright, the floor was hard under your spine, and someone was furiously pressing down on your chest – up, down, up down, with barely a pause to breathe – which you found strange for hell.

You focused hard on the only face that you can see. It was contorted with anger. His eyes were a bright shade of red. There was a five o clock shadow on his jaw, the blinding red of his hair and eyes standing out against the stark paleness of his skin.

“Can you hear me?” He tried for a smile, but failed miserably. His voice was low and calm, a soothing balm for your frazzled nerves. You opened your mouth to reply, but only a loud, wet gasp escaped. What’s wrong with me? It felt as if your mouth and throat were clogged with warm mud.

“It’s okay, kid,” That soothing voice broke through your agony and confusion. “You’ll be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

You could barely understand his words. Your head felt heavy, and everything seemed foggy and surreal. The pain was still there, but seemed far away now, as if you were disconnected from your body. You’re vaguely aware of your nakedness, of your ribs jutting out and the stark blue veins tracing a map through your body, but when you tried raising your hand to cover your chest, your body refused to cooperate.

“It’s okay,” He kept repeating the phrase over and over again, shrugging out of his coat and wrapping you up in it. Your body felt warm and sticky; the skin stung with the contact of the tan fabric, but the coat smelled of warm skin, something cool and spicy, and the smokiness of cigarettes, a surprising pocket of goodness in a room that reeked of raw flesh. His touch was gentle, so gentle as he carefully lifted you into his arms and you could cry at the first kindness that you’ve been shown in a long time.

“You’re going to be okay, kid,” The man said. The pressure of his arms on raw flesh forced the breath from your lungs but you couldn’t – you refused – to push him away. You licked your lips and tried to swallow around the metallic taste in your mouth. “You’re going to live. You’re going to grow up and study and you’re going to get a job once you graduate from school. You’ll be okay.”

You could almost believe him.

“(Y/n)?”

That’s not Papa.

Your name is accompanied with a hesitant poke to your forearm. Your eyes fly open, and you blink back to the present. It takes you a second to feel the seat belt constricting around your waist, the Corinthian leather pressing into your spine.

Tears you hadn’t realised had formed now trickle down your cheeks. Your head's turned to the side, pressed against the window, your breaths leaving puffs of mist against the glass. Your long lashes form dark crescents against the curve of your cheek, but the hot tears push through unrelentingly. You touch your face, now glistening wet and in your mind comes a refrain that sounds eerily like your father’s voice: You’re okay, kid. I’ve got you.

You meet Dazai and Atsushi’s eyes, their faces identical pictures of concern. Unbidden, your mind flashes back to your father. His red hair and eyes, the way the corners of his mouth turned down when he saw you, how warm and reassuring his presence had been, even if only for a few brief moments.

You look Dazai in the eyes and for a minute, have difficulty focusing. You have to blink your eyes until you can. “Yes?”

“(Y/n)-chaaaaaan ~” He sings in a high, lilting voice. He completely ignores your sopping wet face, a fact which you’re grateful for. “We’ll be there in half an hour!”

“Okay.”

“You fell asleep.” A hint of concern blooms in Atsushi’s voice; you can tell that he’s trying to give you space, and not pressure you. The tension in his thighs and jaw belies any laissez faire. His eyes slide from you to Dazai as he speaks. “You started making noises and then you started crying, so we woke you up.”

“Oh.” You weren’t aware that you talked in your sleep. “Okay.”

“What’s wrong, kid?” Unflappable as always, Kunikida doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“No . . .” You answer, even as you feel the hot drip of tears streaming down your cheeks. “Well, I think it was a good dream. It’s not very clear now, but . . .”

The car is completely enveloped by the silence now, except for one of Dazai’s CDs playing on the stereo, and the hum of the engine quietly in the background.

“ . . . But it was a wonderful dream,” Despite the messy wad of emotions coiling in your belly, your eyes are aglow with the happiness of the still-lingering memory, born of knowing that you were once loved and cared for, however briefly that might have been. “I saw my Papa.”

There’s a small, sharp intake of breath from Dazai; two dark pairs of eyes fix upon you in the front mirror, with something akin to shock in those dark irises, before the impeccable mask slides back into place.

Frown parentheses surround Atsushi’s mouth. “Didn’t you grow up in an orphanage?”

“Before the orphanage.” You shake your head, swiping at the tears still flowing freely down your cheeks with fumbling, harried hands. The pain forces its way to the surface, even as you try to clamp back on it and muffle the keen caught in your throat. “I saw my Papa. He had red hair, and the warmest eyes. His voice was so soft and kind. He wore a light brown coat, and he had the faint smell of cologne and cigarettes.”

Dazai’s still staring at you, his gaze unwavering. You’ve always found it hard to read him, but this time, you can see the pain in those dark brown eyes, all the pain and emptiness and loss that you know so well.

“He –” Your voice cracks mid-sentence, and refuses to put itself back together. “It could just be a dream, but that’s what I think he was like. And he held me so gently.”