ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: If You Walk From Home, School, Office Or Anywhere And You Are Alone And

“NNAAOoooOOOOo!! You can’t ship them! They hate eachother!” Hehehe salty Gingerbread go *Gut-wrenching slurping noises*

I went back and edited one line in my Floyd x reader/mc because it was sounding too childish for me... 😅

It basically makes no different but either way it makes me feel better

Zillow house listings

@justanotherotaku1102, thank you sm for commissioning Skull from the coffee shop AU being a loveable boye 🥺 he is Everything

---

This wasn’t your first attempt at dough. You felt increasingly, though, like it was going to be your last.

It was the very early morning, at your coffee shop, sunshine was already peeking through the windows of the kitchen. 6am... you’d already set up the cafe for the 7am opening, machines cleared and prepared, cutlery and dishes cleaned and ready to go, food out in the display cases. You and your only employee were now just cleaning up, preparing for opening- you’d felt like you had enough spare time this morning to attempt some baking.

...

You probably would’ve been better to just throw the ingredients straight in the garbage.

You had no idea what it was. It seemed like you were cursed, or something. You really thought that by now, you’d be able to successfully manage something as basic as a bread dough- you were hoping that your time around your professional baker suitors would’ve meant that some of their prowess would’ve rubbed off on you. Sans’ ability to craft the most intricate and incredibly delicate pieces, Red’s magic touch with even the most complex pies, surely you’d pick up some skills?

You really hadn’t.

... You stepped away from the oily, sticky mess on the countertop in front of you, fingers caked in mixture. You were getting unreasonably frustrated over some fucking bread dough... looking at your wasted work, you felt choked up and angry.  

...

“... struggling?” Skull asked.

You looked over your shoulder at him. He was by the oven, big eye quietly observing you... you could see why he used to scare you so much. But right now, Skull was the only person who could talk to you without you exploding. A softspoken giant with a gentle temperament, he was a baker by trade- he had been here in the kitchen since at least 4 in the morning, making the pastries and cakes that decorated the shelves of your cafe. Stars knows you needed him, given your absolute dogshit baking skills.

He had been quietly watching the whole time. You knew he had. You bit back frustrated tears, smearing your sticky hands over your apron- “Yes. I’m giving up.”

“... the dough?”

“Going in the trash.” You choked. “Where my cooking belongs.”

“... can i... see?”

Skull didn’t like food waste. Any kind of food waste. You deflated... suddenly feeling bad for talking about throwing it away. Some of the anger dissipated.

“... Sure. You can try and save it.” You stepped back from the sticky mess of oil, flour, water and yeast. “Do what you want.”

... Skull moved over. He walked slowly, with a gentle lean, like one side of him weighed slightly more than the other... he stood beside you at the countertop, looking at your ‘work’. His jagged face meant he preferred to spend his days at the cafe hidden away in the kitchen, cooking while you handled customer service. He was at his happiest when making something.

He stared at your mess.

...

“jus’ needs... more flour.” He mumbled. “and... kneading.”

“I can’t knead.” You said, dejectedly.

He glanced at you.

“... show me.”

You looked up at him- you didn’t know why he wanted you to show him when he’d probably seen your sad and frustrated kneading attempts earlier. But you did as he asked, moving back in front of the bread. He had said more flour, right? You took a handful of flour out of the bag and generously dusted your terrible creation. You pressed your hands into it... doing the closest you could get to the method you saw in videos and on TV.

...

Skull moved behind you. And suddenly, his huge hands were on either side of your own. 

You froze; wait, he was standing behind you? So close, too... close enough that you could feel the warmth coming off him. Your heart thudded- what?

His chest gently bumped your upper back.

“here.” He said softly, breath ruffling your hair. His big, scarred hands reached forward...

... And took yours in his own.

You clamped your mouth shut to stop the tiny squeak from escaping you. You felt like you were being swallowed, and you didn’t dislike it. He smelled like cinnamon. Skull guided your hands patiently- he angled your palms, and helped you push the dough, the ball of your hand first. His precision and experience was clear with the smoothness and direction of his movements... and on top of that, he knew exactly how gently to hold your tiny human hands.

“... push n’ roll.” He said. “s’that simple. don’t worry... bout speed. people who... knead fast... have been doin’ it for years.”

You could hear your heart in your ears, now. You’d seen this guy lift up your fridge with one hand, so he could sweep underneath it- you knew the feats of strength he was capable of. And yet, he somehow held your hands like they were glass, while still applying enough pressure to guide them. 

You tried your damndest to concentrate, to make the most of his clear expertise. Push and roll. Push and roll...

...

... And... oddly enough, not fussing about the bread too much because you were constantly thinking about Skull’s slow breaths tickling your scalp and his massive arms around you, you found you were robotically performing the motions he was guiding without your usual overthinking. It only took a few moments for you to realise you were actually kneading the dough. Properly.

... A swell of pride in your chest, and a little smile on your face. Maybe you weren’t cursed after all?

“... there we go. you got it.” He murmured, affectionately, almost right up against your hair. The way he said that, him murmuring so close, his deep voice through his chest... you were kinda glad he was behind you, he couldn’t see you blushing. Would he catch you if you fainted?

“R-Red kneads fast.” You managed to get out. He kept kneading with you.

“he’s showing off.” Skull said, disapprovingly.

You couldn’t help but snort. The dough was starting to take on a smooth, flawless texture. “And Sans?”

“probably... can’t make bread. bread’s not... science enough.”

A warm laugh escaped you. For a moment, you could’ve sworn Skull paused- but not too long.

... Skull was right about the bread. I mean, of course he was. But it was still nice to see your mistake gradually turning into something that would probably look alright in the oven. With some flour, and some kneading, it more and more resembled an object that could soon become edible. Your efforts (and the ingredients) weren’t totally wasted.

Skull finally took his hands off yours... placing them on the counter. You immediately missed the warmth. But you now had, before you, a lovely silky-looking ball of dough.

“... Then it proves. Right?” You turned, looking up over your shoulder at him. Even though he’d taken his hands off yours he didn’t take his hands off of either side of you. His big, warm eye stared down at you.

“... mhm. ‘bout n hour.” He tilted his head. “want... me to prove, and bake? since... you’ll be... busy.”

“You trying to put a bun in my oven, Skull?” You teased.

...

Skull’s eyelight widened. And his whole face, just like that, flooded with an ultramarine blue.

“u-uh.”

...

You made yourself smile, despite your furious embarrassment and burning face. You moved to the side- he took his arm off the counter, letting you slip out from his enveloping personal space bubble.

“I-I should go wash my hands and open the store.” You blabbed, smearing your hands on your poor apron again. You’d need to grab a replacement, no way you could greet customers like this. “Would you like another coffee before the doors open?”

He nodded, dumbly. “... m... mhm.”

You scurried away, desperately needing a moment to cool, so your cheeks weren’t on fire when people started coming through the door.

...

Skull, alone in the kitchen, busied himself with readying your bread dough for proofing- trying to find a way to distract himself, and stop the loud purring that had immediately started filtering out of his chest once you were out of earshot.

hey so uhhhhh just a heads up: ao3 may or may not be in deep legal trouble. specifically for mistreatment of volunteers and lax compliance with certain laws, afaict.

i highly recommend you back up any stories you have and any favorite stories/authors you'd miss.

here's how i'm doing it:

download calibre. it's an open source ebook reader. link here.

it has a plugin called fanficfare. download that here.

open calibre and go to the dropdown next to "Settings", and then select "Get plugins to enhance calibre"

Find and install FanFicFare (sort by title and scroll down to F to find it easier)

go to the dropdown menu next to the fanficfare icon in the top bar and select "Get story URLs from Web Page"

when prompted for a URL, you can post any URL that displays a list of stories, e.g. "https://archiveofourown.org/users/[username]/bookmarks?page=7" or "https://archiveofourown.org/series/[number]" or "https://archiveofourown.org/users/[username]/pseuds/[username]/works"

click "Yes", then wait for it to gather the metadata and download the stories (you can give it another URL to grab stories from once it's done with gathering the metadata if you want)

it will give you a little popup in the lower right corner once it's done, telling you how many it was able to download (usually all of them) and how many it didn't.

if it misses one or two, you can click to see the details and find out which one didn't get downloaded, and go back to the page you got it from and download those yourself if you want.

tell it to update your library.

voila! all the stories on that page are now backed up on your computer.

notes: it will skip any fics that are locked to archive users only (the ones with a blue padlock next to the author's name in the listing), and you'll have to go back and grab those yourself. if your whole account is under archive lock, i highly recommend unlocking it for the duration of the time it takes to grab and download them (a few minutes to a few hours, depending on whether you have <20 or multiple hundreds like i do lol) before locking them again.

back up everything you love!! back up everything you moderately like!! back up anything you wouldn't like to lose!! even if the ao3 mess pans out to nothing, it's always good to have a "just in case".

A Twst sci-fi au that is inspired/is in an among us like universe.

Ok, I think I got everything? @minzart

There are still imposters and humans. However the non-human characters in twst are still their respective races. Our Savanaclaw boys are still beastmen, Octavinelle still mermen/merpeople, Diasomnia still (mostly) fae/fey, you get the idea.

Well, not exactly.

In this au most of our twst boys are imposters (you'll find out why not all of them are imposters in a moment). I'm going for a kind of uncanny valley vibe where they do look like humans/beastmen/merpeople, but aren't actually that.

Anyway.

Imposters can take the shape of other races without issue and doing this is their natural way to live. Some have take certain preferences to which race they mimic, which has given the imposter race unofficial 'subspecies'—nicknames really—called beastmen imposters, mermaid/mermen imposters, and even fae or fairy imposters. Most of the time, when an impostor chooses their first form to take, they don't change it again. (This explains why our twst boys still look like themselves, and if for one reason or another they need to look like someone/something else, they can just shift back)

One of the few things that is different from an impostor and their mimicked (e.g. who or whatever they have mimicked) is that their eyes' sclera—if their current form has eyes—will always be black.

Nobody knows where the imposters came from. It is suspected that they simply boarded a ship that had landed on what was thought to be an uninhabited planet, and spread out from there. The first know reports of them were received from a number of different ships within the timespan of a few days to a few weeks.

All imposters are incredibly smart, it's what let's them blend in with the crew on a ship and not get caught. Nowadays, if you encounter an imposter on a ship—whether or not you realize it—it is more than likely that they are not new to traveling within a group of other races.

Thankfully, imposters don't eat just humans. They can, but usually it's only the particularly hostile imposters that do. Those kind of imposters are usually a little less than sane (none of the twst cast fall into this category, don't worry) or absolutely starving. They can eat other kinds of meat as long as it is raw, if they eat cooked meat it can make them nauseous.

Like when choosing a form to take, each imposter has a preference for what food they eat. Some will prefer raw steak and others prefer fish, it's unique to every imposter.

Most will try to avoid eating crew members, ever since the imposters snuck onto the ships they have figured out that as long as they don't eat any of the crew, they more than likely won't get caught.

Imposters tend to either travel alone or fall into groups of 2 to 3, however there are exceptions to this. If an impostor or imposters are... docile enough, they can and/or will adopte other kinds of races into their group.

Despite most imposters being relatively peaceful, their less than good first impression left them with a (metaphorical) bright red label on their name marking them as extremely dangerous.

Due to this, most people who are in a position of power have aimed to catch and experiment on at least one imposter. With the main goal of trying to weaponize them.

The impostors are not only in danger of getting thrown off a ship through the air lock, but also in danger of getting kidnapped by officials of the Galactic Empire (or whatever is running the show here is called) to be experimented on.

This is where Yuu and most of our non-imposter twst boys come in.

It is their job to make sure that the impostors don't get snatched and weaponized by official hands. They are apart of a group that prioritizes their safety, however, if they know an impostor can handle a situation they don't step in unless it is absolutely necessary.

It was founded by someone who wanted to protect the imposters (or at least those who deserve it) from an undoubtedly horrible fate. No normal citizen knows about the group, only the Galactic Empire's officials and people who deal with mostly illegal business do.

The Galactic Empire ever-so-fondly calls the people apart of the group I.N.2

Imposter Number Two.

The difference between a normal person and an I.N.2 is their pupils. I.N.2's, due to having two (screens/chips/contacts/etc.) implanted into each of their eyes, have white pupils (because why not? :p).

These implants let an I.N.2 see how dangerous an impostor is or can be. At the edge/corner of their vision numbers will show up when they are looking at an imposter, showing things like how dangerous they are and how hostile they are.

(At some point I'll draw what the eyes for imposters and I.N.2s look like, it'll probably soon lol)

(I'm still debating if I want magic to be a major thing or not. I'm mostly leaning towards having magic still exist, but it can only be used in small proportions for select people–unless it to someone's unique magic or it's people like Malleus and Lillia who are both fae and very powerful. Sebek might also be adapted to using magic, just not nearly as powerful as Malleus or Lillia, but better at it than most people with it. Imposter or not, if someone has magic then they have magic I guess?)

Here is a list of our cast:

Riddle - Imposter

Trey - Imposter

Cater - I.N.2 - Human

Ace - Imposter

Deuce - Imposter

Leona - Imposter

Ruggie - Imposter

Jack - I.N.2 - Beastman

Azul - Merman

Jade - Imposter

Floyd - Imposter

Kalim - Human

Jamil - Imposter

Vil - Imposter

Rook - I.N.2 - Human

Epel - Imposter

Idia - Imposter

Ortho - Mechanical/robot Imposter

Malleus - Imposter

Lilia - I.N.2 - Fae

Silver - I.N.2 - Human

Sebek - Imposter

What would the bad sanses do if their s/o asked for a kiss? an they give their s/o a smooch but then their s/o is like "i wanted a hershey kiss..but thanks for the smooch" or something like that??

Error: "No, th0se are m-m-mine."

Nightmare: "Ah, those are in the kitchen, you are welcome to them."

Horror: Hold on, he's got...no wait, maybe it's...he has some somewhere

Killer: "ha! nice one, hold on." He will put a chocolate in his mouth and make you kiss him for it.

Dust: "you are full of lies, come here."

Mmmmhhh!!!!!

This!!!

i have an idea: MC and the octatrio are hanging out one day and somehow the conversation turns to MC's world. they mention that they're actually a merfolk and suddenly the trio is ALL OVER THEM wanting to know what their full form looks like. so they agree to show the boys and they all go to the beach for it bc MC is "too big" for the spaces available in the Octavinelle dorm. the trio thinks MC was just joking around or exaggerating, but nope! they weren't! the boys are absolutely floored as they watch MC grow into a 25 meter long, black scaled, bioluminescent monstrosity from the deep, with a mouth full of sharp teeth and a few too many eyes. they're a deep sea mer, and live in deepest depths of the ocean, hence their terrifying appearance. the boys now simp even harder for MC and all of them MC to step on them

this idea is open to the public btw. if you want to write this prompt, go for it! tag me if you do, i'd love to read it!

and now my little goo goo gaga 🤩🤩

i started this on his birthday and then felt a little too wacky for my own good and apparently didnt finish so he done now better late than never ya know OMG YAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

outer by mimi pippinski

A lovely commission from @vallleyoflilllies, Error being a silly tsundere and not knowing how to deal with his crush on a human <3 absolutely CLASS idea

---

He was back again.

You could always tell when he was back- you’d come home from work and hear the sounds of a random dramatic soap opera drifting from the TV. He liked those... he would binge-watch entire series’ in one sitting. 

... You shook some of the droplets off your coat, then hung it up to let it drip-dry for a bit. The weather was pretty grim outside. You headed to your room first, changing into pyjamas and picking up your project... you didn’t have any other outings planned today. Sitting with him on the couch sounded really nice.

You made your way to the sofa, flopping down beside him unceremoniously. He didn’t look at you. He wasn’t watching a soap opera today, though- he was watching some cooking show you’d never seen before, based in Italy.

“This is new.” You commented. “Why’re you watching an old people cooking show? You never cook. All you do is eat my food.”

“i put-t-t it on for you, actually. since your cook-k-king is gross.” He said, still not looking at you. You knew him well enough to know his words had no real venom to them. “take notes, glitch.”

You snickered. “Doesn’t stop you from coming back. Weirdo.”

You liked when he was here. 

Error... he had a habit of appearing out of nowhere. Literally- he’d appear out of thin air. Disappearing for days, then showing up again, acting like no time passed. Your first encounter with him had been him shaking you awake in the middle of the night; he was visibly upset and berated you for leaving your stove on by accident, informing you you could’ve had a fire if he wasn’t there to turn it off. You were so tired, and so perplexed by what was occurring, that you just sheepishly apologised- convinced you were dreaming. Apparently somewhat mollified by your apology, he proceeded to... vanish like a mirage.

...

Well. You obviously wrote that off as the strangest episode of sleep hallucination you’d ever had.

The next occurrence was when you left a cupboard door open, and almost stood up into the opened door. You would’ve whacked your head pretty hard. But a firm, large hand on your head stopped you from standing up fully- you heard the sound of a closing cupboard and a glitched “st-t-upid human, you’re going to hurt yoursel-l-lf.”. You were absolutely shocked to look up and see that the monster from your ‘dream’ the other night was real, and glaring down at you.

... He then disappeared. Again. Like he wasn’t even there. You didn’t have time to process it.

It happened with further and further frequency, and for lesser and lesser reasons. At first, it was things of genuine concern, he would make sure you weren’t leaving your oven on, he’d replace the battery in your carbon monoxide alarm. Then stuff of slightly less importance... shutting off a tap you left running. Plugging in your phone overnight when you’d forgotten. And it wasn’t long before it was stuff of absolutely zero concern- turning off the TV when you weren’t in the room, tidying up your shoes when you left them at an askew angle by the door, washing up plates you’d abandoned on the counter. 

Oddly, it felt like in certain ways, he had completely slipped under your radar. Of course you were concerned that a large glitching skeleton monster somehow possessed the ability to instantly get in and out of your home. Of course you were worried about your privacy, your safety, his intentions. He would sometimes look at you for several seconds, unbroken, yellow eyelights blank despite your nervous queries- other times, he would say confusing jittering things to you or himself, about ‘universes’ and ‘alternates’. ‘Mistakes’ he had to ‘eradicate’.

... But... also...

... You weren’t worried at all.

Error was funny. Both intentionally, and unintentionally. He tried to act all tough, speaking with barbs and calling you a ‘glitch’- but to you, he was so clearly all bark and no bite. You shot right back, calling him a broken record player and a weird homeless guy... he took it in stride. He obviously delighted in having someone to play off. To banter with.

... He clearly liked you. He kept coming back, again and again. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him too.

Did you still have questions? Sure. But in the end, it wasn’t really worth driving yourself crazy over stuff like his secret backstory. He could obviously go in and out of your home completely at will, he could rob you blind or murder you if he so pleased. All he did was do a few menial chores, and occasionally eat some of your food.

He clearly just... needed someone.

At this point in your... ‘relationship’... Error seemed to have given up on the excuse of doing chores in order to be in your home. He still did them, sure, but sometimes he’d just stay anyway. Once he seemed to clock that you tolerated him, whether or not he was unexpectedly picking up your dry cleaning, he began sticking around all day. He would hover nearby you, drifting in and out of whatever room you were in, watching you like a curious cat. If you acknowledged his existence in any manner, like with a question about his day, he’d visibly brighten and start chattering. He’d sit on the couch with you. Listen while you rambled about work, family, friends, anything... making snide remarks and staring with those bright yellow eyelights.

He was more akin to a helpful, close friend/roommate than anything else. You’d grown to kinda just accept that Error was part of your life now.

... He was very easy to accept.

///---///

Error let a slow breath escape him. His temper had been, only moments earlier, absolutely foul. Foul enough that the multiverse would’ve done well to fear him.

... You had no idea that before you arrived, he’d been seething on your couch, glitches overtaking his vision- literally blinding him with anger. Twitching, burning, infuriated by his difficulty with simple tasks while angry. It had been an awful few days, so awful not even the TV could distract him.

... Then he’d heard your front door open. He heard you sigh to yourself, shake off your raincoat, kick off your shoes.

... His vision had cleared. His Soul had thumped. Finally- the only thing that could distract him.

Your home was the only place where he felt warm. It felt like the only place he could come back to, that welcomed him, with familiar smells and sounds and trinkets that brought him back to reality. Even better when you were physically in the space with him, like you were now, nestled beside him on the couch. Unlike the anti void, a vast expanse of white nothingness where he had only himself to talk to, he liked how your home was full of things that had meaning to you. Your Soul’s energy had soaked into every item in the home- as had your scent.

... He glanced at you, then back to the TV again. Did you know you were the only creature in the multiverse he wanted closer?

(He had one of your shirts, in the anti void. You didn’t know. He figured he probably should return it soon... but it kept him company, when he couldn’t directly be with you.)

It was odd. You calling him a weirdo had made him feel so calm- affirmation that you still didn’t know what he’d done, that you still liked him. Still wanted him in your home. He sometimes asked himself what he, the destroyer of universes, was doing hanging around in a tiny backwater AU with a nobody human... but like most things in his life, he found that if he asked too many questions, the pain in his head became too intense. 

At the end of the day, you being close to him and talking to him made him feel good. That was all he needed to know.

Even just watching you had calmed him down; back before he realised you were happy to let him in.

You had settled in, your breathing was slower. Someone, relaxed around him... it felt good. Though he desperately wanted to stare at you, and talk to you, he also didn’t want to seem clingy. He tried to act like he didn’t care, pretending he was watching the Italian cooking show.

...

He didn’t manage long.

“there are aus with m-m-much better looking-g-g mediterraneans than that.” He said, yellow mouth pulled into a sneer.

... You gave him a customary ‘mhm’. 

You had no clue what an AU was. But you humoured him; he liked that. You didn’t really know what most of the things he talked about were, you’d just give him some nods and hums, maybe you’d tease him. You probably just thought he was nuts.

He finally glanced over at you. You were leaning on the side of the couch... something in hand.

...

He felt his Soul skip.

“a-a-are you crocheting?”

... 

... You looked up at him, you seemed surprised to hear him comment on what you were doing. Your eyes on him made his magic all but purr. He was looking at your ‘project’- a few terrible tangled messes, a ball of brown yarn, and a crochet hook pinched between your thumb and forefinger.

(You were in pyjamas. He liked when you were in pyjamas... he liked when you were comfortable. Comfortable around him.)

“... Oh. Uh... well, I’m trying to crochet.” Your voice soothed his glitches. Everything about you was a balm to his angry, spiteful, troubled Soul. “I’ve only just started. I can’t really work it out.”

He tilted his skull. “what are you-u maki-i-ing?”

Were your cheeks getting pinker? “... Nothing in particular, maybe a scarf? I just wanted to get into crocheting.”

He stared. “what don’t y-y-you understand?”

“Making the knot at the beginning. I dunno where to put everything.” Your brow furrowed. “You know how to crochet?”

“of course.” He said, sitting up. The TV was now purely background noise. “why do you seem surp-p-prised?”

You gave him a look, and a teasing smile that made him feel fidgety and hot. 

“... You’re so right. How could I have been so blind. You scream ‘guy who likes to crochet’.”

Error shifted. “how can you not know how to make a slipknot? they’re easy. there’s a lot of method-d-ds.”

“There are? Course you'd know, grandma.”

“maybe try a pret-t-zel method.” He pointed to your yarn, sitting forward even further. “make a pretzel sh-shape with the yarn. then catch the inside loop.”

You made a loop over your finger.

... Then kinda just paused, unsure.

“n-n-no, a pretzel.” He narrowed his sockets. “don’t you kn-kn-know how to make a p-p-pretzel?”

“No.” You said, honestly. Then you glared at him. “But also, you’re shit at explaining.”

He loved when you sassed him. He leaned in. “maybe the cross method is easier for your t-t-tiny human brain. loop the thread twice ov-v-ver your fingers so it’s an x shape. then tuck the loose end under the x and catch that. eas-s-sy.”

... You looped the yarn over your finger twice.

...

“But like. Where do I tuck the end of it?” You said.

“under the x. you... ugh.” He grunted. “c’mere. gimme the-the-the end of the thread.”

...

You flushed. But you shuffled, sitting up, passing him the yarn.

Error leant over- he took your hands in his.

...

He took your hands. In his.

He froze, for a split second. Your hands were in his. He stared down at them; tiny, soft, warm, shrouded in his blackened bones. He had expected contact with you to feel like lightning, but it didn't, your hands were just... nice. Everything he’d dreamed of. 

... 'fuck' was the only thought running through his head. Repeating over and over. He didn’t mean to take your hands, he didn't realise what he was doing until he’d already done it- he was just so accustomed to instinctively hating the idea of touching anyone, he had no idea how to stop himself from doing it when the urge overcame him. He was just so comfortable with you, so warm- he hadn’t thought twice. In that moment, the thought to recoil from you hadn’t even occurred to him.  

He hadn’t thought twice about touching you. 

... It wasn’t until this very moment, your hands warming his bones, that he realised he was indulging an urge he’d had since the moment he first saw you.

...

Error couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge how deeply he’d been taken off guard. And equally, he couldn’t allow you to see it. So he forced himself to continue.

He didn’t want to let go of your hands.

“it-t-t’s a basic slipknot. i don’t get where you’re conf-fused.” He said, defaulting to insults, as he did when he felt any kind of gentle emotion. He hoped his glitches would hide the nervous stutter.

He moved your fingers in his claws, precisely, holding up the end of the yarn. Your hands felt tiny in his.

“do it lik-k-ke this. you want the end to be about this long. not too sh-short.” With the eye of someone who had done it a thousand times, he looped it over your first two fingers. “make an x, over your fingers, like that-t. you see? then you tuck the tail under here. but not-t-t all the way through.”

... 

... His eyelights moved from the thread, to your face. He caught you looking at him. He was very close, his mouth only a few inches from your face. Close enough to literally feel the warmth coming off you. 

... Just like that, he found it was difficult to swallow. 

You flinched, seemingly flustered at getting caught staring- you forced yourself to look back down at the crochet hooks. You bit your lip, apparently in embarrassment.

Your mouth.

...

It took him a few long, difficult moments to draw his eyelights away from your soft, soft lips. 

“... pinch the tail so you dont lose it.” His claws continuously brushed yours as he circled the thread over your own fingers. He took your left hand. “put your other finger through the loop. like... that. then slide the hook through and catch it. there you go, a slipknot.”

... He could hear your heartbeat. It was faster.

“make sure not to tighten it too much. the knot doesn’t count as a stitch. if you were knitting, it would count. but it doesn’t count in cr-crocheting.”

...

He felt like he’d reached the end of his list of excuses to keep holding your hands.

... He let go. And... he sat back against the couch, refusing to look at you, worried about what he might do if he did. He could feel the energy in his cheekbones, they were probably bright blue. 

His hands balled in his lap.

...

“Thanks.” You said, gently. Genuinely.

...

Error didn’t know how to process what he was currently feeling. He wasn't sure if he'd ever know how. So he just kept his sockets glued to the TV.

“... s-s-sure." He said. "whatever.”