i can't resist it!

wizaster  asked:

Heeeey, what's up! I just started following your blog and it is the best thing ever! your characterizations are A+++ on point. Anyway, have you considered the UT/UF/US/SF bros reactions to... Soulmates? like meeting them for the first time? or just being with them?(I believe your ask box is open, if not or if you just don't like this ask ignore:) Thanks for your time!

……Is it weird that I’m pretty sure this is the first request I’ve gotten for soulmate AU? Weird with how common that concept is in this fandom. Anyways for the sake of this the clearest indicator for SOULMATE is a strong buzzing sensation in your SOUL when you touch. However, Soulmates will likely be drawn to each other personally before any physical touch and quickly developed romantic feelings can be taken as an indication of at least soul compatibility, if not mate status. Also thank you so much for the compliment

UT!Sans: Honestly, always kind of assumed he was the kind of guy without a soulmate.

He’d heard others describe the feeling. A tugging, an emptiness, sometimes faint echoes of emotions you couldn’t really explain, like a magnet or a ghost pulling you towards your other half. He’d never really felt that. Well, maybe the emptiness, but he’d always chalked that up to his old pal depressive tendencies (soon to evolve into full on depression).

Not to say he was terribly disappointed. He’d seen plenty of people work out without being soulmates. Undyne and Alphys for instance. They weren’t soulmates, and they were working out just fine. Toriel and Asgore were, and look how that turned out. Soulmates wasn’t a guarantee that you’d workout as partners, or everlasting love or any of that. It just meant there was something deep inside you that resonated. Love or hate, you couldn’t be neutral towards each other, and the universe would do its best to throw you together in some capacity.

So when he’s selling hot dogs to a decent looking human on  a street corner and he feels a strange buzzing in his chest as his phalanges brush yours when he hands it to you….he’s honestly not sure what his reaction is. There’s a thrill, sure, and a cold sweat,  but also a strange urge to just let you walk away and never speak again.

No such luck. You felt it too, and unlike him had no context to explain it.

“Uh….sorry, kind of a magic  equivalent of static electricity.” He says, pulling an explanation out of his ass.

“Oh.” There’s a pause and then something in your eyes glinted. “So is the hotdog free then?”

“….what?”

“Cause you already…charged me for it.” You burst out laughing before you even finish it. “Sorry, couldn’t resist, that was bad.”

His face slowly stretches into a crooked grin. After a few more bad jokes he asks you if you’re doing anything later.

He doesn’t bring up the Soulmate thing. Doesn’t want to put any kind of pressure on you, he knows the concept is pretty unique with humans. Not to mention he’s not sure himself where this is going. But you seem cool. Definitely got the same shitty sense of humor. Papyrus seems to like you too (he doesn’t tell him either, doesn’t need that wrench in the works).

He tells himself it’ll be fine. Just platonic friends, maybe something more, but why rush himself. But he’s falling faster than normal. Its like something inside him…..ever seen a door slightly ajar get pushed into place so the latch clicks? It feels like that. Not a big change, but something feels right that wasn’t before. The connection is simpler, and yet deeper than he’s used to having, and….he’d never forgive himself if he let this turn into another unchased possibility.

Chances are he’ll never tell you you’re soulmates. He doesn’t like how compulsory that sounds, doesn’t want you to think he only became your friend and later your partner because his magic told him to.

UT!Papyrus: He believes strongly in soulmates but is a little too paranoid about it. Any kind of strong immediate feelings (he assumes) could indicate soul compatibility, explaining his tendency to commit quickly to relationships. Soulmate spotting doesn’t come with a hard and fast list of symptoms. It hits everyone differently and young monsters grow up hearing “You’ll know it when you see it”. Frustrating, to say the least. Thus his tendency to fall hard and fast. He keeps getting disappointed, but as always, Papyrus is an indefatigable optimist.

But for as alert as he is he could never have predicted how it would hit him. He and Undyne were out walking when they saw someone’s purse being stolen. Naturally Undyne pursued, with him close behind. She cut the thief off while he came on them from behind, preventing any escape. The thief whirled on him, face meeting chest……and right where your nose brushed his Soul buzzed excitedly.

Both of you stop in surprise. You drop the bag, yelping as you clutch at your chest. What the hell?! Papyrus staggers a bit, and his eye sockets go unbelievably wide. Undyne is confused but takes advantage of the opportunity to sweep your legs and pin you to the ground. Before she can get too far though Papyrus calls out “WAIT, THAT’S MY SOULMATE!”

All three of you are struck dumb.

“What the hell, Pap, are you sure?” She lifts up your head, none too gently. “This scum?”

“E-EVIDENTLY.” He kneels down and picks up the bag, fixing you with a kind smile. “BUT IF THEY ARE MY SOULMATE THEN OBVIOUSLY THERE MUST BE SOME GOOD IN THEM!”

Naturally at first you want nothing to do with this bizarre monster, chest buzz or not. Especially after his friend made you return the purse and forced you to say you’d come see them tomorrow or Undyne would report you. You show up determined to rebuff any attempts at kindness, you just want to move on.

But slowly, he starts to wear you down. He’s too sweet to hate, and besides, he keeps the angry fish lady off your back. His brother doesn’t trust you but seems to default to his brother’s judgment.

As time goes on the relationship blossoms. Papyrus never forces you to a place relationally you’re not ready to go, but he insists that you can’t not be involved in some respect. He’s one of the few people in your life convinced you’re not a bad person. And somehow he manages to convince not only the others, but you.

Papyrus, with his infinite patience, unbeatable optimism, and genuine sweetness, slowly wins you over. You become a better person because of him. Not that he’d ever admit he did anything. “JUST BROUGHT OUT THE GOODNESS THAT WAS HIDING IN YOU ALL ALONG, DATEMATE!”

UF!Sans: Meeting your soulmate while drunk probably isn’t the ideal scenario, but given the ratio of drunk to sober days he has most weeks its not mathematically that surprising.

Unfortunately for him at the time he’s unable to distinguish the buzz in his soul when his arm slings around your waist from any of the variety of buzzes human alcohol gives a skeleton monster. Given that you’re half in the tank too you likely aren’t really aware of what’s happening either. But he likes your eyes and you’re decent company, and that pretty soft body, damn……one thing leads to another and he wakes up with a splitting headache, a naked human in his bed, and a tugging in his soul that’s becoming more noticeable the more you cuddle up to him.

Fuck.

Red’s never really been into the idea of soulmates. Namely because he doesn’t want to see whoever pairs perfectly with this dumpster fire. So he tamps the feeling down. Probably bad booze. He waits till you get up, you exchange numbers, and you’re out the door.

You hang out a few more times. Sometimes to hook up. Sometimes just to drink or get some food when you’re in the same area. They’re not officially dates, he’s certainly not going out of his way to make it romantic. But you’re funny, sexy, and fun to be around. Seem to think the same about him (for gods know what reason), so he doesn’t feel the need to justify it. The tugging and ache….well, they don’t go away. But he’s getting better at ignoring it.

Or, well, he was. He notices you pawing at your sternum until finally you break down. “Hey, look, I’m not saying its your fault, but there’s like this weird feeling in my chest whenever we hang out. Is that like a magic thing?”

“Uh…” Fuck, he’s usually a better liar but you hit him out of the blue. “Yeah, maybe.”

You’re smart enough not to buy it. You slowly start prodding him for the actual answer until he snaps and tells you. Before it can sink in he vanishes. You don’t seem him for a few days and he doesn’t answer his phone.

You: Red?

You:?

You: Look, its not……I don’t want to be rude but its not a big deal I guess?

You: If you don’t want to be with me like that or whatever

You: But you’re a great guy, be a damn shame to lose my drinking buddy over this dumb universe shit

You: so what do you say?

One hour later

Red: grillby’s tonight?

You: If you’re buying

Red: yeah, yeah, my tab

The two of you do this for months, insisting that this is fine. You’re soulmates. Its whatever. If you wanna hang out, you’re gonna hang out, it’s not because of that.

If he flirts, it’s because he does that all the time, not cause you’re soulmates.

If kisses start lasting longer, outside the context of the occasional one night stand, soft pecks when he’s dropping you off, it’s not….it’s not because of that.

At some point the lines between a relationship and friends with benefits slowly blur into each other faster and faster until you’re officially partners. It’s only then that you start to realize…..shit, guess this soulmate junk may have something to it.

UF!Papyrus: You don’t know what you totally expected when you went out shopping that day. But it definitely didn’t include brushing by two skeletons, feeling a weird thrill in the center of your chest, and having the taller one turn around and shriek “YOU?!?!”

Edge believes in soulmates too. But he’s got something very specific in mind. Someone who will follow orders, keep their space clean, shower him with kisses RESPECT and who’ll help him keep Sans’ ass in line. So coming across a random stranger in the mall and boom, that’s your soulmate?!?!?! Not allowed. Unacceptable.

Alright, alright, he can work with this. He chases you down, and if he somehow manages not to scare you off in the first five seconds of charging towards you your number is demanded requested and you are ordered to show up at his house first thing tomorrow morning.

You don’t know why you’re playing along, but….soulmates, huh? You’d never really thought it was a thing, but that buzz in your chest. That was definitely real. And there’s something charming about his overblown bluster, in a cartoon villain kind of way. You do it. You show up at his house. No one seems more surprised than his brother.

Naturally you’re going to fall short of at least a couple of his standards. You’re only human. He’s furious. How could you possibly be the soulmate of the Great and Terrible Papyrus. In the end he’s not that great at hiding his displeasure, and you storm out after telling him off. Some soulmate, this asshole Pygmalion Project douchebag is supposed to be someone you can resonate with??? Damn, the universe must hate you. For his part he claims its far more convenient that you go, but he can’t help but feel a pang of regret as he watches your retreating form.

You see each other around a bit. You refuse to change stores just because you might see him, but try to avoid him whenever you encounter him. He doesn’t approach you for weeks, but there’s something stirring within him. For the first time he’s feeling…..guilty? N-Nonsense! He never regrets his actions. Only rethinks his strategy!

And currently that strategic rethinking involves paying for your groceries by slipping the cashier some cash when he’s ahead of you in line. Leaving anonymous flowers outside your doorstep. Telling off someone who was getting a little too close for comfort and disappearing before you could…..thank him? Confront him? You aren’t sure.

Finally you steal your nerve and go to talk to him. You do have the address at least. You end up having a lengthy, extremely awkward conversation, in which he comes (and you’re not sure of this) extremely close to an apology. Red is still picking his jaw up off the floor.

Edge gave up on the idea of a romantic relationship after that first night. But maybe….maybe you could be friends. It’s not easy. Nothing with Boss ever is. But that soulmate quality exists for a reason. You find you empathize with his need for control, with his drive and his emphasis on holding himself together. You understand him in a way you haven’t understood many people. He finds you balance him out, and challenge him in a way he isn’t used to being challenged. He can’t get away with his usual bullshit with you. When he crosses the line you stand toe to toe with him and let him know. And while it’s infuriating…..it’s strangely intriguing. You get away with shit Red wouldn’t in a million years. Seriously, how the hell are you doing that?

Whether or not it progresses into a romantic relationship is kind of up to you, but at some point Edge will want to. Maybe his soulmate wasn’t how he pictured, how he wanted. But…..he can’t imagine it being any other way.

US!Sans: Just another night at the club. The only thing (at first) separating that night from any other was that your dance partner was a skeleton. Not your usual fare, but he had a sweet face and had asked you so excitedly that you couldn’t turn him down. He was a good dancer, very energetic, almost running you into the ground with his quick pace. Every touch is gentle, non-intrusive, yet sparks with…something, magic maybe? Either way, it feels good, making the color in your cheeks rise.

As the song comes to an end he straight up dips you down, panting a bit with the energy expended, and as his eyelights meet yours….Both of you feel a buzzing sensation that surprises him so much he drops you.

Sans apologizes profusely and helps you to your feet, then asks you if you want to come home with him. You hesitate, you’re normally not the type to go home with strange guys, but something in the look on his face and the powder blue flush on his cheeks (though stars know how a skeleton does that)……you feel like you can trust him. You agree and take an awkwardly silent walk home with him. He seems more excited than before, and keeps looking at you like he wants to say something but holds it back.

His home is a small but clean one story a few blocks away. On the couch is another skeleton in an orange hoodie, smoking a cigarette that is hastily put out and stowed when you come in. He raises a brow at your presence but doesn’t question it, trading some banalities with Sans. Seems their brothers. He clears out pretty quickly and Sans guides you to the couch.

He explains the buzzing. You’re soulmates. On some fundamental level, compatible. Made for each other, in a way. His eyelights are shining brighter and you swear you can see the outline of tiny stars in the center as he tells you he’s been looking for his for a very long time, and he can’t believe it was someone as pretty as you!

His enthusiasm is catching, and in the end you’re swept up in it. He takes you home and chastely pecks your cheek before running off into the night, practically beaming. You start dating regularly. Sans is almost….overwhelming in his perfection. He’s enthusiastic, kind, sweet, affectionate, solid, honest, and completely infatuated with you.

And that, in a way, is the problem. Sans is already in love with you, but doesn’t know every side of you. While he never brings up anything that disappoints him, you can’t help but feel he fell in love with the idea of you before bothering to get to know you as a person. Not to mention things are moving way too fast. Sure, maybe you’re soulmates, but everything in you is screaming that you can’t be fixing yourself this firmly to a guy that, from a time perspective, you barely know.

Finally you have to end it. It breaks his heart, but you convince him to settle for being friends, for now at least. Someday maybe you’ll be ready for the type of closeness, but for now, you want to spend some time getting to know each other. And though you’re cautious, you find you’re not disappointed in what you find.

US!Papyrus: Stretch sighed and resisted the urge to reach for the cigarettes in his pocket. They didn’t allow smoking in this place. One of the only downsides about living on the Surface, everything was catered to delicate human lungs. They didn’t allow outside food either so he didn’t have a lollipop to fall back on. He was this close to giving in and chewing on one of the toothpicks just to get something in his mouth but he hated when wood slivers fell in his mouth.

Only about an hour left in this thing, and he was seriously looking forward to it being over. Speed dating hadn’t sounded awful honestly. Blue and Tale (he never did feel comfortable calling him Papyrus in his head) had been coming to this place almost every time the restaurant held an event. They seemed to take it as a speed round on making friends. Most of the time they didn’t even end up with an actual romantic date out of it, just another dinner guest for Spaghetti Taco night. They’d been trying to get him and Classic to go for weeks. Classic had made his excuses but Stretch had been….kind of curious. He liked flirting, he liked food being paid for by people not him (Blue and Tale had footed the bill), and with the seven minute thing at least the creepier ones couldn’t stick around too long.

Still, he was reaching his limit. Kind of hard to get past the “Hi, my name is” stage in seven minutes into anything actually fun. Not to mention he was tired. Still, Blue and Tale showed no signs of flagging and he was their ride, so he had a feeling he was in this till the end.

New partner. You sat down across from him. You looked a bit shy, which he guessed was fairly endearing. Cute enough.

“Hey P-” you started a bit. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were….” your eyes skirted to Tale.

“ ‘saright.” he says. Not the first time that had happened tonight. “People say we could be twins. Name’s Stretch, ‘m Blue’s brother.”

“I’m really sorry, that kind of came off…..racist, I guess? Speciesist? Whatever it is when you imply all skeletons look alike.”

He snickered. “Hey, what’s that saying you humans got? No matter what we’re all flesh and bone underneath. We just skipped the first part.”

You chuckle. “Something like that, I guess.” You told him your name.

“Regular, I’m guessing? You seem to know Paps.”

“Sort of. I’ve been a couple of times when my apartment feels too empty for the eighth night in a row.” You pause. “Sorry, wow that sounds depressing.”

“Nah.Sounds about like my weekends when Blue’s out somewhere.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Anxiety, depression, or just a shut-in?”

“Hmm, mostly the first but hey, the second pulls its weight.”

“I’m the first with the third thrown in for shits and giggles.”

“Well, we’re well-rounded at least.” He pulled a hoodie string in his mouth and started chewing.

“At least.” You chuckle.

“….so not to be rude but that’s kind of upfront for a seven minute encounter.”

You passed a hand over your forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I’ve been trying to sell myself all night and I think I’m….I don’t know.”

“Reachin your burn out point.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Don’t worry about it, me too. I don’t mind talking, but if you want we can just sit back, check our phones, get some silence if you want. Sound okay?”

The waiter brought in fresh drinks and you smiled. “Well, I’ll toast to that.”

He chuckled. As you both reached for your drinks your fingertips briefly brushed his hand….and suddenly it was like static electricity, straight to the chest. You were startled a bit but Stretch nearly fell out of his chair.

You….you were…..

Looks like not talking wasn’t gonna be an option.

He runs you down on what’s happening, both of you stubbornly refusing to move from your seats during changeover. When finally the staff tells you you have to he grabs your hand and takes you out back, running you through what just happened. And for once the skeleton with the most chill is looking unbelievably stressed, lighting up a cig as soon as you’re outside the no smoking area.

Soulmates? The very idea is terrifying to him. Talk about fuckin pressure…..he can’t handle this, not after a long night. You exchange numbers and agree to meet up later.

The next few weeks are a roller coaster of Stretch’s wavering commitment levels. Sometimes he’ll ghost on you with no explanation, only to show up on your doorstep with an awkward apology. He takes you for a date but looks like he wants to die through most of it, but then you come over to his place for dinner and he loops an arm around your shoulder. You can never tell which version of him is coming over, and to be honest he feels guilty as hell about it. You’re a good person, hell, he could actually picture himself being friends, even dating you even without the soulmate thing, but that weird spiritual significance the bond adds to the whole thing just takes him places mentally he doesn’t want to be. He has a lot of internalized expectations for how soulmates are supposed to act and doesn’t really feel up to any of them.

Assuming you don’t ditch him during those mercurial few months things do settle down. He starts approaching it like any other relationship, with the same casual savoir-faire. He decides to take the soul bond as more of an added bonus than a bar-setter, and it helps his approach. He’s a good partner, casual and funny, but dedicated.

SF!Sans: You were storming down the stairs of your apartment building as the deafening alarm bells rang, absolutely pissed. You had three projects to finish by the end of the week and the last thing you needed was YET ANOTHER fire alarm. Especially when nothing appeared to be in flames.

You joined the small cluster of your fellow building mates, hugging your sweatshirt against the chill evening air. You walked among them, trying to piece together from various conversation who the hell deprived you of precious.minutes of work.

“Did you see anything?”

“Kitchen fire-”

“Maybe, but who-”

“Fucking asshole-”

“Look, Chief, all I’m sayin is if smoke’s pouring out of the oven, turn it off.” You pause. Bingo.

“I WILL DO NO SUCH THING! THE SMOKE IS WHAT GIVES MY BURRITOS THEIR DISTINCTIVE FLAVOR!” Its the two skeleton monsters you’d seen around a few times. The shorter one was the one yelling, while the taller one looked exhausted and mildly annoyed.

“Look, all ‘m sayin is the firefighters are getting pretty pissed off about having to come back so often. Not to mention stoves are expensive.”

“THOSE FIREFIGHTERS SHOULD LEARN SOME RESPECT FOR THE CULINARY ARTS.”

You’d heard enough. Stomping slightly and eyes blazing, you walked up to them and tapped the shorter one on the shoulder. He whirled on you. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?”

“Hi, excuse me, don’t mean to intrude, but what the FUCK is your damage.”

He looks stunned, for a moment too much so to speak, and his brother is shooting daggers at you but frankly you’re too pissed to care.

“Can you fucking control your damn stove so that I don’t have to tromp my ass out here GODS KNOW how many fucking times this week?! Some of us have work to do that isn’t setting food on fire and you’re getting. In. the fucking. Way.”

He found his tongue. “HOW DARE YOU-”

“I’m just saying, dude, after the fifth time maybe you’d get a clue!”

“Hey, back off.” The taller one said, looking at you with a dangerous eye.

You pointed an accusing finger at the other’s chest. “So get. Your shit. Toge-” Your finger had jabbed his chest at that point and suddenly a buzz erupted in your chest. You reacted instinctively and backed off, yelping a bit. The other felt something too and collapsed to a knee.

“Chief?!” The taller one knelt down beside him. “Sans, you okay?”

He was breathing hard for a minute and he looked up at you with a bizarrely intense face. “…..I’M FINE.”

“Sans-”

“I’M FINE!” He jerked his shoulders out of his brother’s grip and got to his feet. “COME ON, THEY’VE TURNED OFF THE ALARMS.” He walked away. The taller one shot you a dirty look before following.

……What the hell?

Somehow you managed to get the work done. There are no other fire alarm issues. You’re celebrating with a tired glass of wine a few days later when there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, there’s nothing but a plate of burritos there. What the- You flash back to the conversation. Is this….his way of apologizing? Maybe. You’re never one to turn down food and with the high from getting your work done you’re less inclined to be pissed with him, so you take it in and sample it.

Oh gods. If this is how his cooking usually is you can understand why smoke might help. At least it might mask some of the other flavors.

He keeps leaving burritos outside your room and you don’t have the heart to turn them down, but you can’t stand dumping food this much, so finally you show up outside his door and offer to show him a new method. His brother is shooting you dirty looks and he’s very resistant to most changes you suggest, but in the end you manage to churn up something, if not exactly tasty, at least approaching edible. Despite being stubborn and bossy, you kind of find yourself enjoying it. He’s got a sort of charm to him, and definitely has a lot of passion. Somehow he manages to convince you to stop by for dinner sometime.

Blood never tells you you’re soulmates. It sounds….gross and sappy and romantic and NOOOOOO. But he slowly works his way into your favors, toning down his aggressiveness a bit. He surprisingly smoothly transitions you into dating, and before you quite know what’s happening you’re having your first kiss outside your apartment door with the guy who keeps setting off the damn alarm. And somehow….you wouldn’t want it any other way.

(Oh, and Syrup does eventually forgive you).

SF!Papyrus: Last delivery of the night, and you’d finally be off. Least it was this place. You’d delivered enough late night takeout to know the guy tipped well. You knocked.

The door opened, revealing Syrup’s lanky form. “Hey kid.”

“Hey, dude.” You forked over the takeout. “Usual. Your bro not cooking tonight?”

“Staying the night with a friend. On my own for tonight.”

“Ah, explains the smell.” You say, indicating the faint fumes of weed wafting from the living room.

“Our little secret, sweetheart.” He winked.

You grinned faintly. Syrup was just enough of a casual flirt that you always kind of looked forward to him popping up on your route.

“How much do I owe ya.”

“$12.17.” You say, pulling the fanny pack with your change in it to your front. “Though I swear we should put this one on the house, you’re practically keeping us in business.”

“Not sure if that’s a reflection on me or the restaurant.” He handed you a twenty. You started counting out the change but he shook his head. “Keep it.”

“Dude, no, 7 bucks is way too much.”

“Hey, don’t argue, I’m a customer and the customer’s always right, right?”

“Come on, man, at least take some of it back, I feel guilty.” You press into his hand before he can protest again. The bones feel odd against your skin. Coming down to it, this may have been the first time you’d touched him instead of just handing items across…..You only have a second to contemplate this before there’s a thrill in your chest like an electric shock. Seems he felt it too: he yelped, jerking his hand back as the change fell to the floor, scattering coins.

Both of you pant a bit, cradling your hands. The buzzing stays, but is less intense. More like a faint vibration.

“What….what the hell….?” you say, finally looking from your hand to Syrup, only to find him staring at you with a dumbfounded expression. “….Syrup.”

“Uh….yeah.” He knelt to the ground, ducking his face a bit as he collects the dropped cash. “Just….just a stray magic burst. Sorry, happens sometimes.” He stands up and puts the change back to you, still avoiding your eyes. “Shouldn’t be any long term effects.”

“Um….are you okay?”

“What?” His eyelights finally dart up to hold yours, only to look away as he places a hand on the door. “Yeah, fine. Just baked. I’ll see ya later, maybe.” He closed the door before you could say another word.

Behind the door he has a minor crisis. Fuck. He’d gone this long without a soulmate, he’d just kind of assumed he didn’t have one. Now he has one, and its you, the human he’d been casually moving in on for a while now…..fuck, he’s not nearly baked enough for this shit.

Syrup’s not half bad at getting laid but a committed relationship? His confidence goes out the fucking window. Not to mention thanks to dedicating himself to looking after Sans he barely has the time (never mind that since he’s hit the surface Sans needs less looking after than he used to). What….what the hell is he supposed to do?

In the end, nothing. The next few times you deliver, he’s not rude exactly, but compared to every other encounter he’s extremely terse and withdrawn. After a while he finds he can’t resist getting back into playful banter, but he’s shyer, less likely to flirt. What the hell’s the point of getting attached. And yeah, he sees the irony.

Blood finds out, of course. Syrup’s never been much good at keeping things from his brother and after watching him mope around for an hour whenever you drop off food he puts the pieces together. He tells him to suck it up and just ask you out and keeps badgering him until Syrup finally lets it go that you’re soulmates. That seems to get him to back off…..until the next time you drop off food and he just lets you walk away.

Just as you’re about to exit the building you hear Sans barking after you. “HUMAN!”

You turn around to see him dragging his brother forward by his shirt collar, forcing the taller to bend down so he could keep up. It was almost funny. There was an orange tint to his skull that keeps getting stronger the closer they get to you and he’s mumbling protests up until Sans throws him in front of you.

“YOU AND MY BROTHER ARE SOULMATES.” Sans says irritatedly, giving you a terse rundown of what he is. “SO CAN YOU JUST TAKE HIM OUT ALREADY SO I CAN STOP DEALING WITH HIS SULKING?” And before either of you can say anything, he’s stormed off back to the apartment.

Persuasion

“Are you sure you won’t get it checked?”

Dean sighs at the question he’s heard twice in the last five minutes. They just arrive backstage and Seth won’t stop fussing about his shoulder. He turns around to find Seth’s eyes on him, big and earnest—and adorable.

Surprisingly, Dean is not as annoyed as he thought he would be. “It’s alright.”

“I still think you should,” Seth says softly. “Please, Deano.”

Dean suppresses another sigh. Even he knows when he’s fighting a losing battle. “Fine—but only to shut you up.”

“Sure.”

Seth’s smile tells him he ain’t fooling anyone.

Your two complicated sons

Expectations:

Reality:

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It’s been a while! Glad that we’re finally getting somewhere ^^ A nice long update for all the nice patient folks :)

Also hey that last bit there looks familiar

Also I took it a bit easier on glitching out Error’s text this time. I remember last time it was a bit hard to read.

Error Sans belongs to @loverofpiggies, Ink Sans belongs to @comyet!

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Ok I was thinking about a witch au and I was thinking equally hard about their outfits as well as what magick they’d practice so this is all I have rn HAHA but.

Pidge dabbles in both green magic and techno magic. Hunk is a crystal witch! Lance comes from a family of sea witches and he lives by the beach…Keith I’m not sure about yet but I really needed to draw him with an athame. Fire? Knife? It’s perfect

the last one was just an excuse to cover them all in their elements, rituals arent actually that messy ksj