#plsdontkinkshameme

|| @plsdontkinkshameme​ || Continued || 

—

The first night was, for all intents and purposes, a rousing success. Lorona proved to be a very eager mouse— with more moxie than Sans had given her credit. 

He didn’t ask about the Matron. Nor did he ask on the second visit, or the third. For now it was all about building up a certain level of trust. Lorona still had moments where she eyed him uncertainly, as though he were a window she couldn’t quite see through. Still, his frequent visits seemed to be endearing him to her. At the rate he was spending cash, he certainly hoped so, anyway. 

Who was he to complain, though. As far as jobs went, Sans had to admit, it was the easiest one by far. All he had to do was show up and receive the affection of a beautiful human willing to do or take whatever he needed for the moment— really, it wasn’t a bad deal at all. On the third night, it had even been a nice outlet after a frustrating afternoon with his crew. There were bony finger marks on Lorona’s neck by the end of it. He sent her a mink scarf the following day. 

Then came the waiting game. Folks, dame or otherwise, tended to dislike waiting when it wasn’t on their terms. Made ‘em nervous. Uncertain. Made them wonder if they’d gone and done something wrong. 

Which meant, of course, that when the waiting was over, they were extra happy to be on the receiving end of attention once again. It was almost a full month before Sans stepped back onto the temples tainted holy ground again. 

|| Text || rona || Sent: Picture Attachment ||

     Going out on the town— it was nice. Really. The getting dressed up, having a bit of fawning to stroke an ego, some free drinks; there wasn’t a whole lot not to like. Sometimes, though, the night was dull and cutting out early was a preferable option. 

     Fortunately for Emma, she had a friend who didn’t seem to mind shrugging off a Saturday night to go lounge in her studio apartment instead. The tiny bathroom barely fit both of them as they removed the evenings make up, but they made it work. 

     Emma had been taking a cleansing wipe to her cheek when a thought struck her. She bumped her hip against her companions and grinned. 

     “Hey, Lorona, check it.” She swiped along the right side of her face until it formed a clean line between her bare skin and foundation Attention turned to the mirror and in a tone that had no right to sing, belted out in full passion, “When will my reflection shooow, who I am—” 

|| The Witch and The Skeleton || Continuation || Post-Barrier Verse || || @plsdontkinkshameme ||

           “—  So I took it as my civic duty to block that idea and what better way than to appeal to your laziness.”

     “i’d say there ain’t one. ‘course, that’s just me.” 

     It was kind of funny how things changed over centuries. In some far reach of his mind, tucked up on a rotting shelf layered in dust, Sans somewhat recalled Halloween being a much different event when he was a kid— not being called Halloween, for starters. Some things stayed the same, though. Dressing up in costumes, eating special foods. The moral behind the actions had altered, he supposed, but folks couldn’t be blamed for just wanting to have a good time instead of trying to ward off supposed evil spirits. 

      And, by what he could see, that was just what everyone had accomplished. Pirates, princesses, zombies, and poorly impersonated celebrities laughed and stumbled through the streets, growing louder as they got closer to what was (apparently) a very popular festival. Sans prepared to pull out some of the cash he’d stuffed into his pockets but was stopped by the weight of a hand on his shoulder. 

            “It’s my treat Sans, don’t worry about paying for anything.”

      It seemed as though it didn’t matter whether Sans agreed to accept Lorona’s generosity or not; either way she barged on ahead. He re-pocketed his cash and grinned.

    “huh. you should dress up like a witch more often, i like it,” A quick nod over to the food stands, “meet ya in a minute.” 

    “A minute” turned into “several minutes”, but in the end, Sans came out victorious with a paper cartoon full of various fried foods, among them; tomatoes, pickles, chicken, and butter. Just butter. He’d never tried it before, but oh, was he ever willing. 

          “hey, fry-friend— what’dya get when you divide a pumpkin's circumference by its diameter?” 

      He waited just long enough for Lorona to gather up a substantial amount of dread and then continued on with a self-satisfied smirk.

Liked for a starter || @plsdontkinkshameme || Closed Thread || Kid Verse

      Life on the Surface had been interesting, so far. There was definitely a lot to do and even more to explore, though much to Sans frustration he was no longer allowed as much free reign as he’d been given back home. It hadn’t been too much of a problem at first—he’d been keeping close anyway, having zero inclination to run into a human that would surely steal his soul. That all changed pretty quickly. 

     Humans, as it turned out, weren’t really scary at all. Just sorta dumb. And squishy. 

     Very squishy. 

     The adults were still weary, though, and it made sneaking out of the house much more difficult than it’d ever been before. It didn’t help that he has Papyrus to look after, either. Still too young for tagging along, his brother required someone to look after him all the time, a job which usually fell onto Sans small shoulders. The monsters who usually watched him throughout the day now had busy jobs, busy lives, busy busy busy. Too busy to be around. Figured.

     Mr.Muroidea would have made time, Sans often thought but never said aloud. He didn’t like talking about him much anymore. Just made him sad. It was stupid. 

     An opportunity presented itself when Paps got sick. His brother cried and whined from the uncomfortable aches in his bones, and while Sans had tried his best to sooth him with songs or rocking motions, even running his hand up and down his brother's spine in the calming way they both usually enjoyed, nothing worked. Gaster went ahead and got one of Sans old babysitters to come watch over them, but she didn’t like him much, not since he’d managed to ruin her garden by dragging her couch to the front lawn.

    That was fine by him, really. If she noticed him leaving, she didn’t say anything, and so Sans was left with an entire day to himself to explore the neighborhood without some adult hovering over him. There was what the humans called a park nearby he’d been meaning to check out, and luckily there weren’t a whole lot of people there at the moment. Just a human girl with dark hair. He ignored her. 

     Or tried to, at least. Some park items seemed similar to what they’d had Underground, like the swings, and none of it was particularly exciting. He got bored quicker than he thought he would and, after climbing to the top of a large contraption of metal bars, finally looked back over to the little girl. She was hunched over something, waving her hands around, but her long hair blocked most of his view.

@plsdontkinkshameme

    mrfunnybone has logged on

    Private Message | a concerned foodie | SENT | hey i’m out of work     Private Message | a concerned foodie | SENT |  meet you at grillby’s if               you’re still down 

    Sans closed out of the little online chatroom and put his phone away. He hadn’t been to Shenanigans in awhile. As such, hadn’t seen Lorona in awhile, either. Work had kept him pretty busy, though. Kinda. Sorta . Not that much more than usual, really, if he was honest with himself. 

   He just felt so tired these last few weeks. Casually drinking, talking, eating, standing, sitting; it all just sounded exhausting.  

   But he got over it, eventually, like always. Felt up to some good food and a few laughs tonight, at least. Hadn’t initially planned on inviting Lorona out to join, exactly, but then he saw her username in the chat room, and, well—she was good company. And she kept eating those, ah, “burgers” at Shenanigans without knowing what she was missing. Those thin pattied, soggy bunned abominations were nothing compared to what his old pal could whip up. 

   Entering the bar felt a little bit like coming home. Grillby had modernized the place some when he opened his surface location, but it still had the same relaxed, cozy atmosphere inside from its Snowdin days. Warm woods covered the place from head to toe, a working stereo system playing some light-hearted series of instrumental jazz over a murmur of monsters chatting away. Mostly monsters, anyway. A few brave or else otherwise monster-friendly humans were scattered about, but this was one of the few places in town where they were certainly the minority. 

   It was sorta nice. 

Continuation for @plsdontkinkshameme from here.

    They were sat near the restaurants’ performance stage, where two skinny humans in baggy clothes strummed away at their guitars in various rhythms. No vocals, Sans couldn’t help noting, but there was a certain life to them even without it. Pretty nice. 

    He hung one arm over the back of his chair, watching fingers pluck at metal strings with a certain amount of interest before turning back to his date. His grin perked along the edges, just a bit. “heh, y’know...wasn’t too sure what to expect with the whole “blind date” spiel, but least we ain’t havin’ to chat up strangers, eh? guess life's just sorta funny that way.” 

     Their waitress came to take their drink order; Sans requested a whiskey on the rocks, as usual, and an unopened bottle of ketchup. That gave the girl pause. Still, she jotted it down in her little black book, and when she was gone Sans glanced again to Lorona. 

     A thought occurred to him, and he chuckled before giving her a wink. “say, you weren’t in on this setup, were ya? aw. didn’t take you for the shy type, buddy.”