Deserts Reblogs - Tumblr Posts

ADORABLE. I WILL SWALLOW THIS ANIMATION WHOLE, LIKE THE CAKE HE HOLDS (I will steal it)

Happy anniversary FNaF 3! 

Hey guys, I'm here to advertise him again I mean look at him

Alone… again….

Literally sat on the edge of my seat too, Anon.

i’m absolutely feral for your geralt fic, the tension is so so good and i can’t wait for the next chapter!!

thakn you kind stranger… sobbing,, throwing up,, getting down on one knee

cool

Bleeding heart.

(CW blood, no mercy route in read more)

"I've consumed all of you, and I can't move on."

CHAPTER 11; SNOOPY

Seems like Springtrap is just of curious of you as you are of him.

Interesting.

Pov: Ramattra is done with your... 'nonsense.'

(semi interconnected scenes from "Goodbye Sans." fic. (Sans x reader))

Shout out to my commenters, and people screaming in pain, whenever I remind that this fic exist, your pain is delicious.

heres my fav comments:

"We write, draw, rewrite, redraw Sans in our eyes of what makes sense to us. What sounds /right/ to us. What makes us go: He would say that.

He would say it because it's the Sans we know, grown to love and care for. Because it's /him/ and because it's him, he would. He, in my own interpretation, would want what's best for us."

- Nekozaburon

"We look for the new story in fan work, and thus, “out of character” is a normal thing since without getting “out of the character”, there is no new story."

-Zend

im not crying yiu are

chief mechanic🤖🏁

today i went to get ice cream and they let me paint on the windows, so of course... sans...

i wrote a pun, in spanish, so people can read it if they come in. basically it translates to "look at [the] bright [side] of life". because ice cream in spanish (helado) sounds like the side (el lado).

ERWIN. FEM. READER

Erwin offers to take you the market. You don’t like him very much.

THE office was dimly lit. Interior largely of mahogany brown, the once glossy veneer now bores the stale dull of wood. Pitch black blotted the regions where the gentle glow of the lantern from your table wouldn't reach.

Everyone had clocked out for today. You offered to stay behind to clear out the register — sorting through the columns and columns of names with a hope that each and every one of the patients had been rightfully dosed of medication. While it helped to ease the workload for tomorrow, your determination had came at a price.

On your right, beyond the frost sheathed window was the swarth-en veil of the night. And, it was childish impulse that urged you halt scribbling on the paper, turn, blow, curl out a finger and drag careful lines about the cold glass. Eventually conjured was a simple smile that grinned back, expectant.

Uncertainty blossomed in your chest. But you figured a taut quirk of your lips would be enough — even if it was stiff and even if it was half hearted. After all, the night had fallen cold. Having just finish up the last few batches of report , you longed for the warm covers of your bed.

You pushed the chair back. Blew out the flickering lantern and slung the satchel over your shoulder, paving your way down the steps.The ingress, large wooden doors, was wide open and no more than a few steps later would you be free from this—

A call of your name halted your steps, coupled with succession of footsteps behind thatmade you freeze. You whirled around, greeted with a looming shadow that overhead blocks the flare of the chandelier above and three steps back is all it takes for you regard his face fully.

“Commander.” You greet. Not kindly.

The commander smiles. But it isn't just any smile. The look on his face is soft. Just as his eyes were. Crinkling blue in tandem of the curve over his whites. He is but gentle as he regards you, gentle like the smile you carved out with care on the window. A warm touch against the cold. And, yet...

Discreetly, you glance around. There is no one else in the room. He peered at the satchel you were clutching and points to it almost instinctively. "I see you are finished."

“That, I am. I cant help but ask. Is there something you need from me?”

If he had caught onto your sharp tone, he shows no visible reaction. Instead, he inclines his head, a hand dismissing the thought. "No, not of that sort. It's a lovely weather tonight and I was hoping I could accommodate you across the market. There's a festival not too far and I hear the town lights are beautiful at this time of the month."

You blinked, “How did you know I was going to the market?”

At this inquiry, Erwin turns away. " I was passing by when I overheard you chatting with the lance corporal. I deeply apologized if I made you feel—“

“It’s fine." You raise a hand. "I was only surprised you knew. Only to the market, right?"

He ponders for a moment. " We could stroll on for more?"

You nod. " Won't be too much of a harm, then. Let's go."

Despite conceding, you were hesitant. Conjuring a scandal by simply seen walking alongside the commander isn’t something you could bear. It happened several times. Many had thought you were his lover. Not that you didn't mind covering for his Commander's apparent non-existent love life there was also the fact that you wished to never associate with him at all outside work duties. But it isn't wise to turn him down as well. Not when your life depends on his hands. What keys he chose to glide it over. Strings to a puppet. Puppet bounded by string.

Speaking of puppet..

Erwin isn’t beside you. You halt and turn to find that he has his back to you, the tip of his ears red. He's hunched over as well — is he rubbing his face? Just what on earth is he doing? You narrow your eyes. “If you need to get something—“

Instantly, he turns back around, clearing his throat. His forehead is all but pinched red. “Lets not wait any longer." He says. " The night might turn colder."

"I...yes, that is..right." You nod slowly.

As he strides past you, gait stern and commanding of an officer as he, all you could think about was how strange he is. He’s a strange, strange man this commander. 

—

YOU try not to scoot away when he gets close. You also try not to flinch when his hand grazes against yours. Though, you did give him a look when he's close to holding your waist. But to be fair it was also a miscalculation, on your part. Too fixated on a stall, you tripped over your footing and it was all due to Erwin clutching your waist that the granite hadn't kissed your face yet. But the sudden proximity made you lock his eyes. He simply flushed at your look and kept his hands behind his back ever since. As though he'd be maimed the moment he twitched.

Irritation blossomed in your chest like vines curling up a ladder. Why is he acting this way? Childish. Awestruck. Often in the office, the most common expression he’s rooked on is a firm look that could melt ice and freeze hell over. Now, under the warm bustling lanterns of the festival, the past rolling fleets of vibrant mingling colors — his face is soft. One side of his cheek, the sharp contours is sheathed with bright orange while, where the shadow falls melts with the crinkle of his eyes and a shroud of a smile.

The visage of the window comes back. You push the thought away.

“A boy,” You mutter. Too bright. Much too bright.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

Erwin takes a step aside, cautious. "Did you find anything that you like?"

After a quick stroll round the markets, you had gotten the groceries you need. Mostly eggs and lettuce and a few chops of chicken. Now, you humored his request for a walk through the festivities.After all, the path is closer to your house, anyway which is why you conceded.

"I haven't been to a festival often. It's...new to me, to be honest."

" I see. Then I'm assuming you haven't tried these games, as well?" He gestured to the stalls.

You look, scanning the many sage tents propped up with decoration and vibrant commodities.

“Would you like to try?”

“The rifle range? I don’t think I’m adequate.”

You grimaced at the sight. Children and old seniors alike, giggling and cooing everytime a patron had made a perfect shot in the target. You were sure to humiliate him if ever you're to hold a gun.

Erwin only chuckled "Nonsense." And you flinched when his hands curled round your wrists, tugging you along. " Everyone has their own shortcomings. Learning a rifle isn't too bothersome, believe me."

Without much thought he grabs your hands and you try your hardest not to pull it away. 

—

THE man at the stall was not much taller than Erwin. He was quite built. Tanned, dark eyed and considerably not bad looking from behind his ivory draped table.

"How many rounds?" Was his polite inquiry, already propping up the station for play. Your companion pulled out a pouch— his wallet that he took out several sheets of money from.

"Just two."

You reached into your satchel, frantic. "Oh, no it's okay. I'll—"

"Two rounds." But the deal had already been docked. Money taken and stashed. You gave a betrayed look to the man who only laughed in reply.

"Have you played this before?" He loaded up the rifle with, what you're assuming, is false bullets. Plastic at most. Soft and easily reflective.

"She hasn't."

You fight the burn from your face. "I must admit remorsely...i'm not very well aquainted with...these festivities."

"Ah, you'll get to be. Don't worry. Just a few games and—" He snapped his fingers in good humor. " You'll be rooked in like a drug."

" I hope not. I wouldn't want to go through the laboring process of rehabilitation." You said dryly.

" Easier said than done, lady." Was his playful retort.

Erwin extends the rifle to you, "Ready?"

You take it reluctantly. "Quite."

After a few rounds it was increasingly clear you're not as intelligent as you would seem to be. Each play proved further that your inadequate stance, aim, position is, at most, profoundly low levelled — even, the wind at some point isn't in your favor.

Observing the target, the concentric circle consisted of three layers. You drilled all but the middle. And all but the target, even. Some bullets pelted the sage tent behind.

Erwin pats your shoulder. "No point giving up now when you have so much to lose, yes? Stay put. I will get us drinks.” 

And with that he left, disappearing amidst the flock of crowd. Now, you're here with the man who leant against the counter, regarding you with warm eyes.

"Help?"

"I'll humiliate you further if you don't." You said with a groan, lowering the muzzle. " I just can't hold it right."

He rounded the table and came behind.

" That's because you're too stiff, my lady. You should stand perpendicular to the target with your feet roughly shoulder width apart. May I?" You allowed him to cage you in. " Here, just keep your hold on it tight. ”

“Like this?” You curl your finger around the trigger. His curls over yours as well.

"Yes, like that." He echoed, "Now, aim."

You raise the muzzle in line with the target. Stance, aim, position and breathing in mind you pulled the trigger. And—

Your cheeks lift up in its own accord, carving out a bright smile from your lips. "The middle!"

"If you are then you might as well be the gods."

"Yes, the middle." He grinned as well, pointing at the chafe of a bullet in the circle. "I'm such a good savior aren't?"

His laugh rumbled through your body as he shifted behind you. "See? All it takes is—"

“Excuse me.”

The man stiffened and you both simultaneously turn to find Erwin standing at the parting of the tent with drinks and food on his arms.

The natural crinkle of his eyes and smile is now rigid under the lantern. Soft contours now donning a sharp shadow. The plastic cup in his hold is unnaturally taut, gripped firm. A kind of silence fell. You're not so sure what to say at this sudden change in disposition, but you kept quiet.

The smiley face on the window vaporized.

Erwin walks towards you. The man is already at arms length, three steps away and silent as Erwin grabs the rifle and drills in at least a perfect shot on each and every one on the target spanning across the ground.

"The prizes please.” He says politely, setting the rifle down.

The man bowed simply and left without a word.

Something simmered in your chest watching him waddled away— but it wasn’t annoyance. Something like guilt festers deep inside. But you’re not sure why you’re guilty at all when you haven’t done anything wrong yet.

When he’s done gathering the prizes, on top of all the food and drinks — seriously, how does he do that? He turns urns to you, "Shall we?”

You gathered the several box of prizes from him to ease the weight. “You can play more if you want,”

“But would it be alright if we went to a different stall?”

“I…” He wants to change stalls now? That’s….you thought he was having fun here. “Anything. It's alright, you can do whatever you want to do,”

He momentarily glances to the man. “Good.”

Good? Your confusion reeks further when his palm is on your back steering you away from the tent. Erwin twists his body, peering over your shoulder. To probably look at the target, no doubt. What could possibly fuel his sudden annoyance for the man?

That question is short-lived as the sight of food quells the confusion away.

—

WHEN Erwin bid you farewell that night he returned to his quarters immediately. It was almost a daze-like trance as he sauntered through his nightly routine. Changing into comfortable clothes, arms half-way plunging through a sleeve, his mind is consumed with the earlier escapade this evening, some lighting up a bright expression and some that drew a visible frown.

Either ways, he shook off the irritation and slumped on the bed, relished the warm cushions on his bed and wished, for a moment, that your face nuzzled the pillow beside him.

It was a memory engrained into his mind. Your face was warm under the vibrant lanterns. Almost soft, and pleasant like a summer's morning.

His face grew warm. Tip of the ears tinged pink. Erwin grabbed the pillow and plunged his face into it.

I have very inappropriate things to say abt him.

I write my fanfiction with so much grief that this absolutely amazing character idea and character arc was wasted in microtransaction hell.

god ramattra deserved so much better