#You have to show that you understand the sort of company or imprint that you want to work for

[aquitainequeen]

Applicants for the Editorial Assistant position: I love reading and literature! I spend a lot of time on BookTok! I'm passionate about exciting narratives!

Me, alternating between assessing candidates and scrutinizing a manuscript to make sure there are no nasty permission surprises: Oh, you are applying to the wrong department, my friend.

#my life #my job #no part of publishing is glamorous but this section is especially un-glam #Also in this job you will not enjoy reading for long #Some advice for anyone wanting to get into publishing: #what's most desired in a candidate is time management (because you will be juggling MULTIPLE tasks in a heavy workload) #communication (with your team; with other departments; and with authors/editors) #(in editorial especially we are the authors' first point of contact. their travelling companion; their taxman #their confessor; their therapist and their punching bag) #admin capability (you're going to be using Word Excel and Adobe a lot; along with any database the company uses for their records) #and actually knowing what the company publishes #show us that you've done your research!!! #go on the website. find a few books that you like. mention them. #or just do your research on us and say what you like about us! #The sort of things that we publish and the direction we're going #I KNOW it's horrible applying for jobs and you're often applying to lots of different places at the same time #but you have to tailor your application to fit #You have to show that you understand the sort of company or imprint that you want to work for #and yes previous publishing experience is very desirable as well #that's always been much harder to get though

[the-scariest-librarian]

Amor Vincit Omnia

Things You Said When We Were Afraid.

This is for @mercurygray‘s 1000 follower celebration, and for the 2 year anniversary of The Darkening Sky! Congratulations, Merc! 

This ultimately ended up nothing like I had originally intended, but I hope it's okay nonetheless. I hope I did it justice.

There isn’t a science to it, when one will Remember. Some go their entire cycle without the memories of selves past, and some –her name is Molly this time around– live countless lifetimes at once. “An old soul,” her nana once called her, mistaking the imprint of millenia for solemnity uncommon in a girl of just eight.

Lewis Nixon remembers; she knows as soon as she sees him in the blazing Georgia sun and he sends her a cheeky wink. The last time they had seen each other was in the court of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, and before that in Londinium. For all that their numbers are comparatively few, the Reincarnated always seemed to find each other.

There are a surprising number in Easy Company. Eileen and Connie both give her a knowing nod when they’re introduced, as do Shifty and Joe Toye. The looks Marjorie shares with her sometimes make her think that the other woman’s trigger was recent, but she can be counted among the number of those who remember at least something. The others just think that their quips are some odd sort of humor.

“Why would I play with you when you still owe me six denarii?” Molly asks blandly as she idly flips through a dog-eared copy of ancient poetry.

Billie wags a finger at her playfully from the poker game occurring several seats down.

“Don’t give me that; you know damn well I paid you back in the ninth century.”

Molly doesn’t even look up from her book.

“You forgot almost eight hundred years of interest.”

For all that she grew up with the memories of numerous lifetimes, none of it prepares her for the punch to the gut that is seeing the man who spent millenia at her side. He was Glaucus and she was Agape. When she was Iðunn, he was Eadric. No matter what tore them apart, be it war, disaster, or old age, they always found each other again.

In Troy, when Greek ships darkened their shores, he spoke to her the words that never failed to soothe her. In Pompeii, when ash and pumice fell from the sky and the ground shook with Vulcan’s terrifying might, he held her to his chest –she was Hadriana then, Molly remembers– and spoke them again.

Again, before every raid. Again, when he left to explore the New World. Again, when he donned the Patriot’s blue, and later the Union’s.

“I will always return to you.”

And so he has, even if she can see in his eyes that he does not know her as she knows him.

She doesn’t push; it wouldn’t change anything even if she did. Still, if he notices that she keeps an eye on him more than most, he doesn’t give any indication.

When he’s stabbed by a jumpy comrade, Molly feels as if the rest of her life has already been stolen from her. Something of it must show on her face as she watches him –his name is Floyd this time around– being carted away, because he calls to her as he passes, voice tight with pain.

“Aww, don’t worry Mahoney; I’ll be back before you even have time to miss my handsome face.”

When artillery around them shatters trees and bodies alike, he pries her anxious hand from his jacket and makes to leave the meager protection of their shallow foxhole to answer a nearby call for help.

“Stay down, Molly, I’ll come right back. Promise.”

When the war is over and this goodbye could very well mean forever, she gets just a moment’s hesitation and a muttered “See ya around, Moll.”

She can't remember a single lifetime where it ever took them this long to return to each other, both in body and soul. They’d always been lucky before, but it seemed their luck had finally run out and this would become their first life apart. It’s happened to others.

She'd rather live with his ghost than stay with this shadow who doesn't understand why earthquakes terrify her, or why she sometimes dreams of being thrown to her death from an ancient city's walls. She could have done it, once, she thinks, but she's used up a lifetime of strength in these last few bloody years.

So, Molly lets him go.

She watches him until his jeep turns the corner and then banishes the thought of him from her mind. It works for a time, at least until she returns to her remaining comrades and Joan meets her gaze with sad, knowing eyes.

When she’s back stateside for the first time in years, Molly immediately enrolls in UC Berkeley’s anthropology program and leaves it as Dr. Mahoney. Four years of graduate school work well enough to keep her busy, but although she keeps regular correspondence with several members of Easy, there is still a kind of hollowness inside of her that finally makes her desperate enough to upend her life once again.

She moves to Italy in 1951 to assist in the restarted excavation of Pompeii. She’s seen the pictures; she knows what’s there. Still, it takes her several weeks to muster the will to seek it. She’s not afraid that it will hurt; she knows it will. It’s the fear that seeing it will make her regret ever letting him leave at all.

Despite the Allied bombs that damaged chunks of the city, ancient feet guide her path as if she had never left, stepping easily over crooked paving stones and wheel ruts in the street. She doesn’t work in this section of the city –doesn’t know if she could bear it if she had to– but she remembers every home and every storefront. The graffiti on the walls she passes has faded with time, but she was there when her countrymen scratched their thoughts into plaster, and she is still here as it is rediscovered.

At last, but also much too soon, Molly stops in front of a small villa, more familiar than the rest. It’s in poor shape; she knows by sight alone that the building is unstable enough to be dangerous, but she cannot find it in her to turn back. She’s already come all this way.

With a deep breath, she steps into the shade.

The inside is just as she remembers, and yet not at all. The roof is gone, although some of the second floor walls remain. The paint that decorates the walls is faded and the plaster is missing in chunks, but it is still their home, Hadriana’s and Marcus’.

Careful steps take her around a crumbling corner, and there, frozen in plaster, they sit. She is curled in his lap, head tucked beneath his chin. The plaster is rough, but she can just make out a fold of fabric here, the curve of his nose there. It’s the closest she’s been to him in both six years and two millenia at once, even if all that remains is just an imprint of his life left in stone and ash.

It steals the breath from her lungs, to see the only thing that proves that her memories are not just elaborate dreams. A gravestone is one thing, and any tintypes that once existed are lost to descendants she doesn’t know in this life, but this is real. They existed once, and here they remain.

Molly steps gently closer and a patch of purple catches her eye, stopping her short.

She stares in surprise at the flower, identical to the one clutched in her own hand but wilted a little from the heat of the day, that lies upon the tragic figures. In the weeks it took her to build up the courage to visit her ancient home, she hadn’t seen a single blossom left in remembrance for any of Pompeii’s dead. The flower there in her own lap –or at least it belonged to her two thousand years before– brings tears to her eyes. Someone has remembered them.

She kisses the petals of the crocus in her hand and places it gently beside the first. She thinks the words, but cannot find it in herself to say them out loud.

The sudden crunch of dirt behind her startles her, tells her that she is no longer alone. She straightens; guilty shoulders hitch up to her ears in anticipation of a scolding from one of the site supervisors for being in such an unstable building. She knows better.

The voice that comes from behind her doesn’t belong to an aging archaeologist at all, but rather someone she hadn’t dared hope to see again.

“Heya, Moll."

I told you I’d always return to you, didn’t I?

#So I completely lost track of time and cranked this out last night #I hope you like it! #The darkening sky #Molly Mahoney #Floyd Talbert #Band of Brothers #OC #Fanfiction #Mercurygray #this is my first published fanfic on here yikes #tds birthday bash

[alpaca-clouds]

Please understand this about media

*sighs* Really. I want you all to just understand one important thing about media: If you are not reading a self-published book or comic, there is not one person, who made all the decision. Not even with indie auteur movies. Not with TV shows that were dominated by "the one guy".

Sure, there are productions where certain creative voices were clearly dominant. And the less people were in decisive positions (like writer or director) the more power those people tend to hold. But... Unless you are explicitly told by someone who made what decision, you cannot know!

I always see people reading things one way or the other, often completely ignoring how media production works. Media production is a team effort. Even if you have the one writer-director. Because maybe there is a producer saying "This won't fly", maybe there is an actor saying "I won't do the scene like this", maybe there is just somebody saying "I think it works better this way".

Even with books. If they are published by an imprint of any sort, there will be an editor giving their feedback and maybe the publisher says "I love this book, except these three chapters, so redo them." Look, my book had originally had a different finale. But the publisher was of the opinion that it needed more action. So it got more action.

And the more money is involved, the more people will have a say.

Like, just looking over my own fandoms. Three of them (Digimon, Castlevania and Arcane) are game adaptions. So at least the game publisher will always have had some say and be it just an ability to green- or redlight all decisions. Being series with bigger budgets, they also had some other companies giving money. All of which got a say. Even with Castlevania that only had one writer, that writer had no complete creative control over the project. There were others giving their input.

My other fandom, Pirates of the Caribbean, shows this even more, because in the end it s a Disney production and Disney tends to overproduce things. Aka things don't go "three times" through approval, but a hundred times.

So, for the love of god, don't just go and attribute anything to this one person, if you don't have a proper source on them having called that shot. It just ignores the complexity of productions like that.

Yes, you might be right about it. But you also may be wrong about it.

And I am seeing it over and over happening againd and again. Back with Digimon Kakudou got credited with any and all decisions made for the first two seasons, even those of which we know that Masaki or Seki or Hosoda had made them. Same with Tamers, where Konaka gets all the credit, even though he wrote so much about who made what decision. (Like in Digimon Tamers we really know a fuck-ton about the production, because Konaka blogged about it and talked very much about how it was a team-effort.)

Were either creative voices maybe more influencial than those of the other writers or directors? Sure. Might be. But they did not make those decisions alone.

I just hate this, because... it spins a narrative that is so much more simplified than reality. Not only does it devalue the work of everyone else, but it also often tends to make the world so much more stupid, with people spinning productions into stories of "a good and a bad creator", which... Yeah, it's not that easy. It is not.

Please just try to respect the many people who worked on creating you media. You can still critique it, without making it a story about "a bad guy", who made bad decision because he is this or hates that. Just as you can make a critique based on "yeah, some production meddling happened" without blaming a certain person as long as you don't know.

Again: Sure, there are true auteur things, but... look, most media productions are not books or Undertale.

#rant post #media #media criticism #media is a team effort

[inextures]

ATL, BTL, and TTL Advertising: Understanding the Differences

Knowing the various advertising techniques is extremely important for anyone involved in promoting or maintaining a firm. Our blog, “What is the distinction between ATL, BTL, and TTL publicizing?” clarifies this. It clarifies the distinct styles and benefits of Above-the-line (ATL), Below-the-line (BTL) (BTL), and Through-the-line (TTL) advertising. 

This blog is dedicated to assisting you in clearly comprehending these types. We’ll show you what each type is best for so you can create adverts that speak to your target audience. 

Whether you’ve been in the business for a long time or are just starting, having the opportunity to hold with these fundamental types of publicizing will truly assist with making your image more popular and secure.

Above The Line Marketing (ATL)

Above the line (ATL) marketing refers to specific exercises aimed at a large number of people, usually via methods that reach a large number of people. This sort of advertising is distinguished by its broad technique, which focuses on broad brand information rather than narrow client segments. The primary goal of ATL advertising is to create brand awareness and transmit the brand image to a broad audience.

Key Characteristics of Above The Line Marketing

Mass Media Channels:  ATL displaying employs traditional broad communications stations such as television, radio, newspapers, and announcements.

Wide Reach: Contacting a huge, different crowd, making it ideal for building brand awareness is planned.

Less Personalization: Since it focuses on an expansive crowd, ATL showcasing includes less customized content contrasted with different structures.

High Visibility: ATL crusades are in many cases prominent and have a wide clear line of sight or hear-able effect.

Brand Building: The attention is more on building the brand picture and less on prompt deal transformation.

Examples of ATL Marketing

Television Commercials:  An example of ATL promotion is a TV ad that is broadcast in the early evening. For example, a vehicle manufacturer may promote their most recent model during a well-known game.

Print Media Ads: Full-page advertisements in newspapers or magazines, for example, promoting a new range of skincare products.

Radio Advertising: A widely heard radio jingle for a low-cost food chain that is carried on multiple stations.

Billboards and Hoardings: Massive billboards in high-traffic areas promoting another fashion brand or a forthcoming film.

Sponsorships: Financial support for big events such as sporting events or live concerts. For example, a refreshment company that supports a public football league.

These models are the epitome of ATL showcasing, contacting a massive crowd to make major areas of strength for a presence and recognition. By utilizing such approaches, businesses hope to imprint their image in the minds of buyers, preparing for future purchases and client loyalty.

Below The Line (BTL)

Below the line (BTL) marketing is a highly targeted and direct form of advertising strategy. Unlike Above the line (ATL) marketing, which focuses on mass media outreach, BTL marketing uses more personalized and interactive methods to reach specific audience segments. The key characteristics of BTL marketing include direct communication with potential customers, measurable campaign impact, and a focus on conversions and direct response.

Explanation of Below The Line Marketing

Targeted Approach:  BTL advertising targets explicit groups of customers based on socioeconomics, interests, or behavioral patterns. This makes it particularly appealing for items or organizations that cater to a niche clientele.

Direct Communication: It frequently includes direct participation with the audience, whether by ordinary postal mail, selling, or up close and personal gatherings at events or in-store promotions.

Measurable Results: With BTL advertising, the impact of missions may be easily assessed by the number of reactions, drives generated, or deal modifications. This provides valuable insights into crusade adequacy and return on investment.

Cost-Effective: BTL missions can be less expensive than broad communications crusades since they target a smaller, more specific audience.

Customization and Personalization: BTL marketing considers a high level of customization, delivering food that is specifically tailored to the interests and demands of the target audience.

Also Read: What is Omnichannel Commerce?

Examples of Below The Line Marketing 

Direct Mail Campaigns: Sending personalized brochures, letters, or postcards to a targeted mailing list.

Trade Shows and Exhibitions: Participating in industry-specific events to promote products or services directly to potential customers.

In-Store Promotions: Conducting product demonstrations, offering samples, or special in-store discounts to customers.

Email Marketing: Sending targeted messages to a specific group of recipients, typically with customized offers or content.

Telemarketing: Using phone calls to reach and communicate with potential customers directly.

Social Media Campaigns: Creating specific promotions or material for public gatherings on platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, or LinkedIn.

Street Marketing and Guerilla Campaigns: Innovative, risky promoting techniques that create critical encounters in open areas.

Referral Programs: Allowing existing clients to refer loved ones in exchange for compensation.

Through The Line (TTL)

Through the line (TTL) marketing is an integrated approach that combines both traditional (Above the Line) and nontraditional (Below the Line) marketing strategies. This holistic method focuses on creating a seamless experience for the consumer across multiple platforms. TTL marketing blurs the line between mass and direct advertising, leveraging the broad reach of ATL tactics and the targeted precision of BTL activities.

Explanation of TTL Marketing

Integrated Approach: TTL advertising combines ATL’s broad reach through outlets such as television, radio, and print with BTL’s customized touch via standard mail, web-based entertainment, and email campaigns.

Seamless Consumer Experience: It implies delivering a consistent message across all channels, ensuring that customers get the same experience and data whether they interact with the brand through wide communications or more direct forms of advertising.

Flexibility and Adaptability: TTL processes are adaptable to various buyer segments and can be tailored to certain stages of the shopping journey, from awareness to purchase.

Measurable Impact: TTL considers better following and assessment of advertising adequacy by incorporating ATL and BTL, combining broad variables like brand mindfulness with more easy measurements like conversion rates.

Examples of TTL Marketing

Coca-Cola’s ‘Share a Coke’ Campaign: This mission began with customized Coke bottles (BTL) and was maintained by traditional media promotions (ATL). The mission encouraged clients to share their experiences through online entertainment, resulting in a continual collaboration of various promoting channels.

Nike’s ‘Just Do It’ Campaigns: Nike typically combines high-profile celebrity endorsements and global promoting (ATL) with neighborhood events, customized web-based publicizing, and sophisticated online entertainment campaigns (BTL) to connect directly with its target audience.

Apple’s Product Launches: Apple’s methodology frequently incorporates massive scope declaration events and commercials (ATL) joined with in-store encounters and internet pre-orders (BTL), producing a far-reaching whirl around new things.

IKEA’s Catalogue Launch: IKEA coordinates its yearly index discharge (BTL) with a broad advertising push across several media channels (ATL). They further enhance this with expanded reality features in their program, allowing customers to envision products in their houses and correlating improved commitment with distinct items.

To wrap it up, advertising has many different ways to help businesses talk to their customers. There are three main types: ATL (Above The Line), BTL (Below The Line), and TTL (Through The Line). Each type is good at different things. ATL is great for getting your message out to lots of people and making your brand known. BTL is more about talking directly to certain customers in a more personal way. 

TTL combines both of these techniques to give you a complete promotion strategy. It is extremely important for anyone making advertisements to comprehend how these sorts work. By utilizing the right blend of these styles, organizations can make a promoting arrangement that contacts a large number of people as well as interacts with them intently. As promotion keeps changing, having the ability to utilize these various sorts well is critical to having serious areas of strength for a company.

Originally published by: ATL, BTL, and TTL Advertising: Understanding the Differences

#ATLMarketing #BTLMarketing #TTLMarketing

[trendybanglaupdate]

Top persuasive statements for understudies to focus in!

The pressure of the tests is more noteworthy when you feel less motivated. To deliver that pressure, you really want to feel certain. That is precisely exact thing these Inspirational Statements for studies পড়াশুনা নিয়ে উক্তি to really hit the books do! Peruse on to get motivated, and face the tests with more certainty!

Inspiration isn't elusive! You simply have to have an eye for it! For instance, the clincher of your group can be a motivation for you. The instructor who shows you various subjects can be an extraordinary wellspring of motivation too. We are encircled by individuals. Everybody around us is attempting to accomplish their objective. For instance, a retailer you see consistently is attempting to make his business develop. Or on the other hand, your instructor is attempting to set aside cash for their own home. How they continue to attempt in spite of hardships, can be the best inspiration. The best inspirational statements for studies to really focus in are private encounters from such individuals.

In this article, we will investigate the instances of such exceptionally energetic characters and their statements. Understand them and attempt to comprehend what it truly implies.

Check whether it works!

"The ability to learn is a gift, the capacity to master is an expertise, yet readiness to learn is a decision!" Brian Herbert

This statement by Brian Herbert portrays how one's will impact their activities. One can gain some significant experience in the course of their life, however won't utilize their insight brilliantly. Anything you learn in everyday schedule, will help you in going with the best decision. Try not to dispose of information with regards to you. Regardless of whether you are not provided the ability to learn, you can have major areas of strength for a. What's more, with that can to learn you will settle on the ideal choices throughout everyday life.

2. "If you have any desire to sparkle like the sun, first consume like the sun!" - Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam

Dr. A.P.J Abdul Kalam was quite possibly of the best researcher in India and furthermore a splendid persuasive orator. In Wings of Fire, he put his motivational excursion in words. This statement comes from the encounters he went through. It expresses that without difficult work, you can't accomplish anything. You need to put forth thorough attempts to accomplish your objectives.

On the off chance that you fantasy about accomplishing the best outcomes, you need to read up hard for it!

3. "Value the magnificence of defect as a potential chance to develop!" - Hector Gracia, Ikigai

No one is great! Everybody's meaning of flawlessness is unique. Flaw is essentially the tomfoolery part. Everybody's loaded up with defects. Everybody falls flat at something. Try not to acknowledge your disappointments. Gain from them and attempt once more.

4. "Disappointment is a chance to start again more wisely!" - Henry Portage

With disappointments, you realize what not to do. Also, that is precisely exact thing pushes you towards progress. This mindfulness is knowledge. Yet, on the off chance that you do fizzle, don't quit attempting. Disappointment isn't a snag. The lower part of the stepping stool will take you upwards.

Figure out how to climb it! Handle your disappointments astutely.

5. "Trust and begin strolling. We are in good company in obscurity, our way will unfurl as we move!" - Paulo Coelho, creator

The initial step to progress is an act of pure trust. It is alright to be exceptionally apprehensive. However, when you venture out, you can hope to be loaded up with certainty. Try not to lose that certainty.

Being predictable is the way to progress!

6. " Don't expect an existence without issues. There's nothing of the sort! All things being equal, trust for a day to day existence brimming with great issues!" - Imprint Manson

Consider your obstacles a numerical issue. It will not disappear until you address it. To determine the issue, you really want to confront it. While reading up hard for the tests, it might appear to be challenging to stay centered. Lingering concentrating on will just add to an expansion in pressure.

To deliver this strain, you want to deal with your concerns.

7. "Educators open the entryway yet you should enter without help from anyone else!" - Chinese Adage

The educators you ridicule consistently are really your last group for direction. Subsequent to completing your schooling, you won't track down a 'instructor' to direct you. You should be your educator.

8. "Learning is the main thing mind never depletes, never fears, and never laments!" - Leonardo da Vinci

You might find it debilitating to advance such countless subjects step by step. However, your psyche is made to store this data and the sky is the limit from there. It can learn different various things and recollect them when required.

In this way, continue to learn! Advancing never goes to squander!

9. "You must outfit each day sincerely assuming that you will hit the hay with fulfillment!" - George Lorimer, Columnist

Treat each day as a potential chance to improve. George Lorimer was a notable American writer with a dream. What he said in this statement is that you not set in stone with your objective of the day. That is the main way you can accomplish your greater targets.

10. "Disregard the individuals who let you know what direction to head without first comprehension where you are!" - James Penetrate, Entertainer

To know the objective, you ought to initially know where you stand. To accomplish the objectives, you should comprehend and recall where you come from. You should know your assets and shortcomings. Really at that time you can make your way and stroll on it towards progress.

#study-quotes

[simrankaur]

Eco-Friendly Escapes: Navigating the World of Eco Tourism

A new sort of journey has arisen in a world where the appeal of travel is balanced with the duty of sustainability, one that invites us to discover, value, and protect our planet's natural beauties. Ecotourism, a travel philosophy that aims to reduce environmental damage while immersing visitors in the beauty of their surroundings, is exactly what this voyage entails. 

Eco-friendly getaways are becoming more popular as a way to enjoy the Earth's wonders without having a significant environmental impact as the world begins to understand the value of conservation. This article delves into the realm of eco-friendly getaways, examining their essence, advantages, and suggestions for how to set out on a journey that will leave both memories and a positive legacy.

The Advantages of Green Vacations

Environmental Preservation: The favorable effects of eco-friendly getaways on the environment are their main advantages. Travelers aid in the preservation of fragile ecosystems, biodiversity, and wildlife by engaging in low-impact activities and funding conservation initiatives.

Empowerment of Local Communities: Engaging with local communities is a top priority for eco-friendly getaways, as is promoting their economic prosperity and cultural survival. Utilizing locally owned lodging, making purchases from regional craftsmen, and getting involved in neighborhood projects all help to boost these communities.

Education and Awareness: These getaways are learning excursions that expand perspectives beyond the norm. Travelers learn valuable lessons about ethical behavior, cultural quirks, and environmental challenges that they can use in their daily life.

Making a Positive Impact

Eco-friendly vacations provide a legacy of progress rather than just their physical imprints. Travelers who opt for these conscious excursions become representatives of sustainability, proponents of responsible tourism, and stewards of the environment. Every action, conversation, and decision makes the world a better place where travel and conservation can coexist together.

How To Choose Eco-Friendly Vacations

Research: Do your homework before making travel arrangements and look at eco-friendly resorts and places. Look for certificates that attest to a commitment to ethical behavior, such as "Green Key" or "Eco-Certified."

Support Local: Choose locally owned hotels, restaurants, and tour companies to show your support for the community. The community will immediately benefit from your travel expenses if you patronize local establishments.

Low-Impact Activities: Take part in activities that have a small environmental impact. Select guided trips that place an emphasis on leaving no trace behind while viewing wildlife from a respectful distance.

Respect Cultural Sensitivity: Research the traditions, customs, and culture of the place you're going. Be careful of how your activities could affect their environment and respect their way of life.

In A Nutshell

Finally, eco-friendly getaways change the way we perceive the world. They serve as a transforming example of how adventure and responsibility may coexist, showing us how beneficial travel can be. Traveling sustainably allows you to discover fascinating locations while also helping to protect the most priceless resources on our planet. You'll discover that the less-traveled path not only leads to breath-taking scenery, but also to a more peaceful coexistence between humans and the planet as you make your way through this realm of Sundarban tour sustainable adventure.

#sundarban tour package

[trophykartindia]

Trophykart - More Than a Trophy Shop

Retail and Wholesale Trophy Supplies Dealers Sell a Lot More than Trophies

There is a huge number of business owner who desire to influence their worker for better result are searching for trophy stores which can assist them to buy great quality corporate trophy. These business owners understand that providing such awards to a variety of individuals motivate them that their job is not going to waste and that’s why the company rewarded their efforts which are making.

Trophykart

Presently despite the fact that there are a lot of trophy shops accessible everywhere throughout the web, you ought to realize that not all are made equal, thus you need to consider a couple of things before you buy from one. Keep in mind that if you locate the place where you get a good trophy shop, it means that you continue working with them for quite a while and this is advantageous for the store and you too.

Trophy shops frequently manage a promotional item that can endure the logo of a group, organization, non-benefit association and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Products in this group like watches, key chains, coats, mugs, measures, pens and different oddities that can shoulder a name.

Most of the sports teams as well as a corporate group prefer to wear customized apparel, and most of the trophies or engraving store has a huge amount to choose from. The example is that polo shirts, windbreakers, all types of athletic wear, normal button down shirts, T-shirts, sweaters jackets, vests and many more. All of such clothing items could have embroidery or customs stitching's place on them.

During the engraving and banner creation there were the main things that were given by trophy shops is over. Presently, as those times have passed and computerized picture manipulation has expanded, individuals are searching for a little bit extra. You will find that a ton of stores now offers diverse sorts of textual styles, pictures and scripts that’s why your corporate award is interesting and distinctive. In this way, look around and discover a shop that provides you with the most recent and greatest in award making technology.

When you are looking for trophy shops on the web, you generally need to verify that the organization is not fake or running a trick. The most ideal approach to do this is by looking at their costs. Keep in mind that all expert organizations will have practically the same cost with the varieties being either excessively less or zero. Nonetheless, each one store will have their own particular tenets regarding the expenses of engraving, and so on.

Professional engravers like Trophykart have the capacity to imprint on any type of item. Things in your work place or office includes covers, business card holders, caddies, clipboards, cut and note holders, envelopes, frames, hole punchers and a ton more. Both retail and wholesale trophy supplies organizations will typically have a full choice of office item. Trophykart; leading trophy manufacturers in Delhi, Mumbai have a huge collection of different type of trophy.

Lastly, if it's time to give somebody a fun personalized gift to show your appreciation, most of the trophy shops will offer corporate gifts items like balls, toy airplanes, flyers, board games, inflatables, puzzles, kites, stuffed animals and fake tattoos.

#trophy #trophy manufacturer in delhi #trophy manufacturers in delhi #trophy manufacturer in India #trophy manufacturers in india

[himanshicorporategifts]

Top 10 Best Motivational Gifts for Employees

Plants

Plants are useful in the office since they induce serenity. A little greenery breaks up the monotony of looking at walls in the office. Plants also purify the air. Plants make wonderful corporate gifts, as seen by the above considerations.

They motivate and enable you to be more productive and allow your creative ideas to flow.

Journal

It's usually a good idea to keep a notebook where you may write down your thoughts, ideas, plans, or anything else you like. This approach will motivate your staff by allowing them to record their views in a motivational journal This is one of our favorite employee incentives presents. New Year Diary In Delhi And NCR

If your company collaborates with other firms, they would appreciate a journal to help them plan their days. Because of the logo on the cover, they'll be reminded of you every time they use it.

Quotes on motivational table frames

This is an excellent approach to distributing motivating quotations and thoughts to your employees for display. It's a simple drive booster that also looks nice on walls and tables. Simple statements like "Difficult roads lead to beautiful destinations" might serve as a motivator and recognition tool for your employees.

Gifts for fitness or wellness 

This one jumps out since it is unusual for firms to provide fitness presents to their customers. It's worth noting that this is one of the most thoughtful business presents you could ever give a client. It shows them that you care about and support their goals and well-being

This will encourage employees to take care of their health and fitness, which will help the company run and flourish.

Workplace Essentials

If you're looking for a great motivational gift idea, give your employees something helpful and practical. Desk stationery is appropriate for this case, in our opinion.

A desktop item is something that can be placed on a workstation. For example, it could be a cup, a paperweight, or a photo frame. It doesn't have to be anything lavish or one-of-a-kind. Or maybe it's a plant.

Including a motivational quote on the present is the icing on the cake.

Gift cards as motivational presents

When it comes to team motivation gifts, the ideal option is to give them gift cards for products of their choice. There are several sorts of gift vouchers, as listed below:

Movie tickets

Vouchers for travel

Coupons for shopping

Vouchers for food or restaurants

 Vouchers for online purchases

One option is to acquire team event tickets. It could be for a football match, a cricket match, a musical concert, a theatrical or film festival, a stage production, or anything else. The entire staff can go to the events together, which fosters a sense of bonding and togetherness.

Gifts for their personal growth

It is critical to find a way to use your understanding of your employees' passions and interests to convey your compassion for them. Sending them a present related to their interests or personal development is a simple way to accomplish this.

By giving them something like this, you're proving their importance to them and your firm.

These presents will motivate staff to focus on their health and well-being.

Tumbler

Coffee cups are a popular piece of drinkware these days. Everyone is seen with one. They are effective at preserving healthy juices and water. You can then rehydrate whenever you are thirsty. They also work nicely to keep beverages hot or cold.

As a premium corporate gift, give consumers personalized tumblers with your company logo or give employees personalized tumblers with their names to recognize their hard work. For a little fee, you may have your provider customize it with your company's logo or motivational thoughts and quotations.

Personalized Stationery

Employees might appreciate their jobs more when they use personalized stationery. A notebook imprinted with your employee's name or post-it notes printed with their monogram can add a personal touch to their workstations. Choose colors that they appear to like, or look for patterns and designs that complement their taste.

Calendars

Calendars provide inexpensive but enjoyable employee gifts. Daily tear-off calendars are a valuable addition to workers' desks and are available in a variety of themes. You may even get elegant wooden ones that can be used year after year.

Consider putting motivational quotations on one side and dates on the other. This will encourage and motivate staff to work on and complete projects and tasks on time.

Keeping employees and staff motivated is crucial for the company’s overall growth and development. The authorities should ensure that their employees are given the best treatment so that their loyalty, love, and respect for the company remain their priority. Motivational Gifts for employees and staff will not only help in motivating them but is a great way to win their trust and loyalty.

#Motivational Gifts for Employees

[hughesfloyd]

Sap Fiori Course London Uk Sap Fiori Certification London Uk

SAP Data Hub is used to build highly effective knowledge pipelines, information sharing, and distribute knowledge. It helps professionals and organisations to manage data saved on the assorted platforms and sources across the organisation utilizing SAP features like Metadata explorer. SAP Data Hub supports companies or organisations in managing advanced knowledge landscapes spanning on-premise or cloud environments and building highly scalable data-driven applications . The Knowledge Academy’s 5-day SAP SuccessFactors Training course offers delegates with a thorough understanding of the SAP product suite and the method to handle HR capabilities. Delegates will study the ways to set the page background colour for a theme and configure accent color schemes in fast themes.

Contains varied folders similar to enterprise associate, disputed objects, etc.; and at last, notes make up the final element of a dispute case.

An instructor-led SAP training course taught in Karachi or Islamabad will cost you 3990 EUR .

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Through Firebrand’s Lecture | Lab | Review methodology, you’ll get entry to courseware, be taught from licensed instructors, and prepare in a distraction-free setting.

To a lot of the users expertise matter greater than the pricing supplied by the online business. SAP fiori presents unmatched effectivity and consumer personalized experience. For most, we are accustomed to ‘tap, tap, swipe’ on our private devices. Well,the answer is you probably can.SAP UI5 apps, built using Fiori design ideas could be applied from an ever-growing library of template apps. Depending on your system level, they can be simply put in, deployed, and training is minimal.

Sap Real Spend Training​ Course Overview

The exam may be canceled or rescheduled in Certification Hub by using the calendar icon within the “Exam Appointments/Upcoming Appointments” section. This should be carried out a minimum of 24 hours before the scheduled appointment date and time. SAP reserves the right to subtract an examination attempt if you do not cancel your appointment throughout the specified time. When sap fiori training training uk will go to the learning hub, it's going to show a dashboard together with your purchased examination and standing. SAP UI5 Training value will depend on course matter select by candidate & required time period to finish the course.

Sap Ui5 Certification / Examination Charges

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[daughertyherman]

Tailor made Hard Enamel Keychain

A challenging enamel keychain is one of the most favored and long lasting promotional products in the marketplace. It is also an useful product to use daily, as people are prone to keep it with them all the time. Personalized keychains are a good way to advertise your own business or occasion, and are well suited for a variety regarding purposes. These things are excellent for charity businesses, sports clubs, in addition to events, as that they can be utilized for years.

Tailor made hard enamel keychains are often made from metal materials. They may be a great promotional choice because they will are not easily lost, and will be probably be used just about every day. This piece can also become used to promote your own charity work, charitable organization cause, or company event. Fortunately they are exceptional for schools, night clubs, and other organizations. If you include an idea for any customized hard-enamel keychain, you'll want in order to contact a professional custom made keychain company.

While tailor made keychains are a great alternative for businesses, they're also a wonderful promotional product with regard to a variety regarding reasons. These products are durable and often used every day, which makes these people the ideal choice for the business's advertising campaign. A new hard-enamel keychain can be used since a tool for various types involving events and buy and sell shows, charity groups, clubs, and colleges, and many various other varieties of promotions.

A custom hard enamel keychain is a great promotional item for virtually any occasion. It will be donned every day in addition to not just dumped when the people grow older. keychain pvc hs code could be imprinted with your business name or logo, and they're an outstanding choice for events and industry shows. Even charities and organizations can benefit from these types of items. They shall be the good way to be able to raise understanding of their own causes and showcase your business. But , if you're certainly not a business seeking for a brand item, you may also purchase a new customized keychain for a special trigger, club, or college.

A custom hard teeth enamel keychain is an excellent option for a promotional product. It can be used to market your brand or organization. Despite its versatility, these items are highly durable in addition to can be personalized with your firm name and emblem. The price regarding these keychains is usually relatively low and they can end up being used for numerous sorts marketing needs, from enterprise events to charitable organisation projects. And, they can also end up being just the thing for promotional free gifts at any event, or trade show.

You can easily get custom difficult enamel keychains in any color you desire. They have an extensive range of hues and finishes. An individual can add the logo, slogan, or other design towards the front or again. Or, you can easily have a soft enameled surface keyring with a logo design that catches typically the eye. If most likely buying a customized keychain having a hard tooth enamel design, you'll be delighted together with the results.

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[soupshadow3]

The 4-Minute Rule for Print Checks Pro on the App Store

Exhausted of spending money on bank examinations? The response has been noticeable: no! Well, what if they were truly to get free of the costs for you? Yes, of training course they're carrying out it because you're out of savings (in exchange for providing them a examination). There are actually pretty a handful of issues along with this scheme, having said that — a lot of them are basic and stay clear of the simple fact you'll be spending all your amount of money. Or keeping keep track of of your checkbook? A Reliable Source got a riches of support you can easily make use of to organize for your yearly check book. Explore our magazine and comply with our directions to the leading of our webpages to discover out what kind of check you call for. Check out Books and Check Lists Check publication listings are terrific for any sort of amount of factors, but the majority of of time are more beneficial for readying individual checks or for readying economic profiles. Check Writer enables you to imprint examinations at property, straight coming from your phone . With Writer, you'll always be writing examinations. And through printing checks, you could possibly possess a excellent possibility to conserve cash during the course of development of your residence. You could currently use a resource to imprint the examination directly coming from your phone. It's simple and effortless to use; also include a useful resource if required. When your residence is completed with building and construction, you can easily begin publishing examination checks on the cooking area counter right now! No extra ordering inspections from your financial institution 🏦! Right now you can order from your bank. We'll give you Totally free shipping. This indicates no handling expenses, not transporting expenses, and that is a bonus offer. I want to offer you some understanding right into this little bit of little jewel. The 1st factor you possess to perform when you are about to order your purchase is to get in touch with ahead and ask for your facts. Possess exciting conserving amount of money and opportunity along with the Check Writer application. We've placed with each other a collection of totally free ebooks and we think you'll really love the entire function. And while you're scrolling by means of the webpages, get a easy snapshot of your current inspection. Appreciate! This application are going to conserve you loan by sending out your present check to your ebooks manager before you add a brand new one. * * See your current inspection and send it to your ebooks supervisor. The absolute best component is - it’s free of charge 🆓! Currently you can observe all our complimentary videos under. And through sustaining CNET News, you can easily help us keep on top of everything, as well. Ended up being a NOLA Twitter or Facebook advocate! What You Need to have to Get Began: • US banking company account • Your smartphone or tablet computer • Printer • Blank examination newspaper sell (like these https://digital-soft.org/CheckWriter/check_stock.html) Once you imprint your check, sign it and give it to the payee. The volume you pay for is tape-recorded on the examination and are going to show up in the examination. Hit "printing examination" then hit Print once again to open your remittance proof of purchase and check your equilibrium. Main Features: • Write examinations fast and keep a digital record in the application • Quickly print examinations that your payee may cash! • Have a individual record that goes with each examination written. • Compare inspections along with our client assistance staff on how these inspections are being carried out • Have a electronic data of every payment demand that you have accepted. • Write checks through hand and incorporate worth to your inspection profile. It isn't merely for checking, check that you perform. • Make use of your phone to print with a cordless laser printer or Google Cloud Print. Free and marked down iPhone and iPad apps Complimentary apps for publishing iPhone, iPad, or Mac color printers (iPhone 3GS or later, iPad mini 3GS or later on, etc) get you the digital electronic wallpaper and electronic wallpaper option. iPhone and iPad 3GS color printers are made to be printed directly from a solitary picture or color printer cartridge. Or, produce a inspection in the application, save it as a PDF documents and deliver it to your pc for imprinting • Assistance organization and private inspection sizes • Changes the amount coming from numbers to words automatically to produce reliability easy • No requirement to produce an profile in the app! • Conserve it to an offline backup, and then discuss it around all your mobile phone tools, coming from your tablet to your personal computer computer system.

Just put in Check Writer, generate a checkbook and begin printing examinations at residence for free of cost! When I acquire right into issue with a chequebook, take a appearance at our instance to see what that course is all concerning. In our situation, my chequebook is a publication that includes a lot of amounts and varieties of characters that I find odd, but which I can easily simply enter into a straightforward examination. This inspections are just helpful for the initial 4 figures of the string. Other Function: • Helps you ready inspections and discuss them easily along with pals • Makes use of the MICR E13-B font to imprint numbers and exclusive symbols at the bottom of inspections, creating them well-known by bank’s MICR font style viewers bodies • Shields your personal privacy! We've put a great deal of attempt into it, and we believe you'll understand the benefits of this service. You mayn't go wrong along with this resource. Your info is saved in your area on your phone and will never be uploaded to the Cloud or stashed on a Check Writer server! When logging on to AWS with a solitary profile, you may log onto our website to ask for extra relevant information from us and after that produce a demand for this information. If you do decide on to approve my payment, we will also send out your personal info merely (i.e. : username, password, network deal with, company card, and location) to one more AWS account.

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[heyninja]

Initial shrieking about Kinn

(OK this is the promised shrieking, going up through episode 3, so if you don’t want spoilers now you know.)

Kinn, girlboss of my dreams, you are fascinating, and I did not even expect to be half as enamored of you as I am, but here we are. Again, these are just the surface thoughts, but I cannot get past them.

I feel like a lot of times BL shows will sort of short-hand that the top basically has no personality other than being The Top, and they'll oftentimes sort of forget about emotional journeys or layering characterization here, and I am really, really fascinated by how Kinn has a lot of trappings you'd expect and subverts the usual genre stereotypes. He's (so far) portrayed as more experienced, a little bit of a show-off about his conquests even. He's shown as more emotionally contained, which a lot of shows would just play off as mature and worldly and leave it at that. And this is where I love that the show just sort of takes the off-ramp.

Kinn has Trust Issues, obviously, but I'd say it goes just beyond a mild case—he seems to literally believe that there is virtually no one in the world he can trust. His very first act in the show is to shoot someone with no warning who betrayed the family. Trust is a commodity he seemingly can't afford. He has friends, but they are other mafia sons that he often has business with. His own father suggests Porsche as a bodyguard, and Kinn does not trust this idea. He goes along with it—the head of your mafia family isn't someone you undermine lightly—but he doesn't buy the idea exactly.

Which is not to say there aren't people he cares about. Loyalty is extremely important to him. Even if there are vanishingly few people he trusts, that doesn't stop him from being loyal to the people he cares about. Open affection may be a weakness he can't afford, but he allows glimpses in the spaces between. He does enjoy Tay and Time's company. His pleasure that Tankhun can be drawn back into the world was subtle but real. And it's his genuine belief that he owes the people who protect his life some protection in return—Porsche has been doing everything wrong by the time he pisses off the minor family, but he is still Kinn's responsibility and he did save Kinn's life before—Kinn will repay that.

I think Kinn is intrigued, though, by his father's idea that Porsche may in some way have an idea of loyalty that he's so far not seen anyone display. I think this interest might stem from a curiosity about whether Porsche might even have a sense of loyalty that Kinn might find on a level with his. I think, when Porsche was trying to deescalate the situation with Mes, what motivated Kinn to push Porsche out of the way was the fact that Porsche was literally going to stand there and let himself be shot rather than let anyone else, much less Kinn, get shot instead. I think Kinn understands that impulse even if it's his prerogative to let the bodyguards, y'know, guard.

There are a lot of times that Kinn just tries to figure out Porsche's deal, because he doesn't act like anyone Kinn is used to, which will naturally keep Kinn engaged because it's a puzzle, and I think as time goes on there's a little hope there that maybe what his father said about loyalty—something Kinn treasures and desperately wants to see reflected back to him—might be right. But it's still early times yet.

And I don't know which is going to come first for them—trust or loyalty? Or if it's going to be a both-at-once situation.

All I can say is that I appreciate Mile's understated approach. Yeah, he has the swagger and the smirks, but he also has these really subtle plays of emotion. As loudly physical as Apo is, Mile has really great micro-expressions and he's also good at subtle physicality in this very restrained way. It's been super engaging for me. I didn't expect to imprint as hard on Kinn as I have. I fully expect that Kinn will be setting up tests for Porsche—trust issues ahoy—but I think, seeing the surprise at watching Porsche doing the seemingly impossible by turning into a decent bodyguard and helping Tankhun find joy in the outside world again, he's starting to get invested in perhaps seeing if Porsche will pass these with flying colors too.

Although I fully know that Kinn is absolutely, in no way, allowing himself to frame this as hope. He can't afford to hope. I fully expect him to play this off as some sort of test for his amusement, maybe even just for the physicality of it, because I think Kinn holds himself so rigidly that the fragility of a broken hope might shatter him with as isolated as he is currently.

I can't put this man through the rinse cycle in my dishwasher without worrying he’s going to break, is it any wonder I'm obsessed now?

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kinn #mile phakphum #spoilers through ep 3 #kinn girlboss of my heart #is the tag for him now and i'm not taking any questions #seriously mile can be so subtle i love it #the sheer weight of his emotions is palpable even when he's not expressing them and i just love the contrast #and it's making me so happy to know that this show is being so careful with characterization #like i'm just so happy over here getting to discover with delight that they saw the stereotype path and went 'yeah but nah' #kinnporsche meta

[buckyownsmylife]

Walk Away - Tom Hardy smut

The one where Tom is your mentor and really shouldn’t feel this attracted to you.

Warnings: smut, age gap, famous!reader, mentor!Tom Hardy, breeding kink, risky sex, tiny insinuation of a size kink, (blink and you’ll miss), mention of a panic attack with barely any descriptions of it

Word count: 3k>

Tom’s P.O.V.

“Tom.” I stopped rubbing the sleep off my eyes the second my name fell from her lips. I didn’t need her to identify herself - I didn’t need to check the caller’s ID. I’d recognize her voice anywhere, regardless of just how groggy I was. But the tone in which she said my name, the tired, dead feeling shining through it, was what really startled me awake. “Tom, I need you.”

The desperation in her voice scared me, and I was out of bed before I could even realize what I was doing. “You’re home?” I confirmed, waiting only for the expected answer while I looked for my keys. “I’ll be there in five. Hang on tight.”

The night was cold, but I don’t think I would have noticed it if it wasn’t for the chill that had me freezing from the inside. I didn’t even consider changing out of my sleepwear - sweatpants and a loose shirt - mostly because I didn’t want to waste time on something so trivial, especially since it wasn’t that different from what I’d normally wear around her.

I’d known her for over four years now. I’d never witnessed this level of distress on her. In fact, she was never anything short of enthusiastic and happy, a bubble of sunshine that managed to energize everyone around her. For her to be this way, something big had to have happened, and it pained me to imagine just what could have been. 

It pained me to imagine her suffering, and not being there to help. So I stepped on the pedal, driving madly, knowing my own heartbeat would only get back to a regular pace once I had her in my arms again, could smell her perfume as I buried my face in her hair.

She wasn’t by the door when I got to her house, so I let myself in with the extra key that I had, noticing all the lights were off. There was only one place she could be. 

My feet took me there without even having to think about it, like there was some sort of instinctive calling from her body to mine. When I got to her bedroom, a dim light showed just how effective that connection was, as I pushed in to find her laying on her bed, waiting for me.

“What happened?” She sat up when I pushed the door open, quietly closing it behind me, and for a second there was no reaction as she took in my presence, like she needed time to realize I really was there. But then her eyes glistened, denouncing a flow of tears, and she just shook her head, as if asking me to contain my curiosity for just a bit.

“Can you just hug me?” She asked, and I felt my heart squeeze at the realization of just how unaware she was of my feelings for her. I’d do anything, anything for the woman in front of me. A hug was nothing, and I ached to have her in my arms anyway.

I sat by her side and immediately, she was on me, climbing on my lap until she could hide her face on the crook of my neck, and I froze only momentarily before wrapping my arms around her smaller body. Despite how wrong it morally felt - particularly when I remembered I wasn’t wearing any type of underwear - I couldn’t deny how right it was to both my heart and my body, how much it comforted me to feel her this close.

So there we stayed, for God knows how long. We didn’t speak - I was waiting for her decision to explain what had happened, and she clearly needed to come to terms with whatever it was. Just being there for her was enough for me, so I kept rubbing her back, eventually pulling away to press kisses on her temple, trying to ignore how her little sighs of comfort made me feel.

“I-I think I’m ready to talk.” The second I couldn’t feel her warm breath against my neck anymore, I felt cold again, but to my surprise, she didn’t climb down my lap, didn’t try to put some space between us. 

Instead, her arms remained around my shoulders, fingers playing with the collar of my shirt, making me shiver every once in a while when her nails dragged along my flesh.

“Okay,” I encouraged, only because she seemed nervous to say whatever it was that she wanted to tell me, her eyes avoiding mine before she finally managed to meet my gaze again, after taking a deep breath.

“Shawn broke up with me.” A sharp inhale resonated throughout the room, and it took me a few seconds to figure out it had been my own doing. I’d never liked her boyfriend, not ever since she first told me they had been going out, and despite how hard I tried to hide it from her, she had always been aware of my true feelings for him. 

Knowing he was the one to blame for her current state of mind only served to turn my concern into anger. 

“Why?” That was the only thing I could think to ask, the only thing I could focus on as I struggled not to throw her on the bed and run out after him. But I’d never be able to leave her alone, especially not since she was so clearly vulnerable.

There was another second of hesitation before she finally revealed, “It was because of you, actually.” Now that froze me into a state of shock. I couldn't speak, couldn’t think, all I could do was stare down at the face of the woman I loved who looked like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me.

“What?” Her giggle made my heart skip a beat for a second. It felt good to know that she was already starting to feel better, it felt even greater to know that I was the reason for her laughter, even if I was still fucking confused.

“Don’t worry about it.” Now that just wasn’t good enough. I needed to know, needed to understand. How had I been the cause for their break-up? But she didn’t seem too eager to open up about this specific part of her day, and so I decided to break out the big guns.

I laid her down on the bed, hovering over her so our eyes remained connected. “Tell me,” I quietly begged, and although she still looked anxious, I knew she was close to breaking. “I really want to know.”

She sighed, eyes closing for only an instant and for that instant, I allowed myself to believe that she was breathing me in, appreciating the feeling of being covered by my much larger body, exactly like I did.

“He was jealous,” she finally admitted, but the frown in my face only deepened, asking her for more information. “He felt like I prefered your company over his, which to be fair, it’s the truth. When I’m with you, I never want to leave.”

I didn’t know what to say. So I just stood there, frozen, looking deep into her eyes, searching for any sign of mockery, but found none. She looked hurt, but not like she regretted what happened. It just looked like she needed me there.

And so I stayed. I laid down by her side on the bed and pulled her to me, so her head rested on my chest, and I thought. I thought long and hard about what she’d told me and about how I felt. I thought so much, in fact, that I could see a panic attack forming, as the weight of my feelings threatened to suffocate me, and before I could realize what I was doing, I was already sitting up on the bed and looking for my keys.

“Where are you going?” She rubbed the sleep off her eyes as she tried to understand what was happening, but to be quite honest, I didn’t understand it myself. I just knew I needed to get the hell out of there, or I would end up saying something I’d regret. “I’m so comfy, can’t you just stay?”

It was so hard to breathe that my chest heaved with the labour of getting each breath in and out, so I forced myself to focus on it, stopping only for a few seconds, but it was enough to have me spilling things I’d been managing to hide for years.

“Don’t ask me that. Please.” My voice sounded hoarse, like I hadn’t used it in too long. “Because I’ll stay, and it’ll only hurt me further.” That caught her attention, wiping any remnants of sleep from her in an instant. 

“I wish I could walk away from you. Time and time again I wished for it, when you began dating that jerk, when I first realized I had feelings for you… but I just can’t. I’d do anything for you. All I can think about is you, all the fucking time. I want you so fucking much. I love you way too much. And being just your friend, your mentor, your confidant, is killing me.”

I closed my eyes to catch my breath, trying to focus, trying to make anything make sense again. In that time, I feared the worst. I thought about her leaving, her hand leaving a warm imprint on my face as she slapped me. I thought about her (rightfully, in my mind) accusing me of betraying her, calling me a monster, a pervert. 

I thought I had imagined every possible scenario, but I was still surprised when I opened my eyes to find her seating on the edge of her bed, gaze resting on mine, licking her lips. “I wanna feel you,” she said, and my mind swirled with this unexpected outcome.

“Excuse me?” I scrambled to keep myself up, finding a hold in the back of a nearby chair, my entire body trembling with the effort to hold back, the effort to think and listen, instead of just doing what my instincts begged me to do - pounce on her and fuck her raw.

“I want you inside of me,” she calmly stated, like it was no big deal. It was clear that it was the best way she had found to ask me for what she wanted, but I just couldn’t believe it.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y-you want me?” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, understanding the delicate nature of this situation, anxious to not let it slip through my fingers nor hold it so tightly it would end up breaking and hurting me in the process. 

I closed the gap between us, getting out of the bed to come stand in front of him, hoping the proximity would ease him the same way having his body near would calm me.

“I’ve always wanted you,” I confirmed, hoping he’d see just how truthful the statement was, needing him to see how much more I wanted to say. “But right now…” Without thinking, my hand reached out to fiddle with the edge of his shirt, the sight of the boner struggling against his sweatpants unmistakable to me. “Right now, I’ll do anything if you just touch me.” 

A sharp exhale of breath, his warmth hit my face, giving me a taste of what was to come. But I wanted the real thing. I wanted to know how it felt from his lips, to have his tongue forcing my mouth open, making me forget my need to breathe.

“I need you.” I got what I wanted then. His face lowered to mine, mouth finally close enough for me to reach, after what felt like years of desire. And it was everything that I’d always imagined his kiss to be - overpowering, dominating and overwhelmingly him. I was instantly addicted.

When he finally allowed our lips to part, taken by his need to breathe, I slowly began to peel away my clothes, fingers trembling in quiet desperation for him to see this for what it truly was: the meeting of desire and lust after years of denial and repression.

“Please fuck me,” I pleaded as my naked body was revealed to him inch by inch, willing to do whatever would get me what I needed. “I swear I can handle you.” That last part was added almost as an afterthought, when I watched his hand curl around a tightness I’d never witnessed in real life before.

I knew what was going through his head - the fight between what was expected of us and what we wanted, our feelings and our professions, but nothing else mattered to me more than knowing he’d spear me open with his length.

“Lay down and spread your legs for me.” Just that order was enough to have me whining low in the back of my throat, but I did as he said, even held my ankles so his view of me would be unobstructed. But that meant I had to watch him as he knelt by the bed and took a hold of my legs, licking his lips in desire at what he saw.

“Please, please, fuck me,” I repeated, knowing I wouldn’t handle his lips on me right now. I needed his thickness, his hardness, I needed to be filled by him, to feel him inside of me.

“Let me just get a taste,” he tried to convince me, eyes focused on the apex of my thighs. I almost laughed at how it looked like his mouth was watering as he stared at my exposed pussy, but my need was far too great to allow me any sort of distraction.

“Later, okay? You can eat me out as long as you want, just… later.” That had his head snapping up, gaze at last meeting mine with a soft sentiment that I knew was at least half vulnerability.

My poor Tommy. Even after all of my confessions, he still couldn’t believe that what was happening was actually real. He still doubted I would want him in the morning, as something more than what I wanted him when I called him tonight.

“Touch me, Tom,” I quietly asked, raising his hand to where I was aching for him, rubbing myself with his thumb. “Touch me right here, please, I’m begging you.”

Hearing those words fall from my lips changed something in him. Where once he was hesitant, a sudden confident smirk, almost arrogant, slowly spread over his lips, taking over his entire aura.

Tom’s P.O.V.

“So needy for me…” I whispered as I witnessed the truth behind my statement. She was sopping wet, almost dripping down the duvet, and as much as I wanted to get my mouth on her, I could accept that we’d have the time to do that later.

I loved the idea of a later.

“I’ll take care of you, darling.” I whispered as I climbed up her body once more, occupying the space between her thighs like I was always meant to be there. “Let me take care of you.”

I brushed my lips against hers, relishing in this closeness, in the moment just before it all changed. I was sure she could feel the weight of my cock against her thigh, and it was probably what prompted her to wrap her arms around my shoulders, breathlessly telling me, “Yes. Yes, please.”

Hissing as I finally slid my length inside of her, I knew I was in trouble the second I bottomed out, biting on her shoulder to keep myself from groaning and drowning out her delicious little sounds. She felt too good. No one should feel this good.

A broken gasp (or was it a moan) called my attention, taking me from my efforts of restraining myself to her, completely. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked, brushing the hair away from her face as I watched her open her eyes and blink a few times, trying to keep tears from flowing down her cheeks. “Does it hurt?”

But she just shook her head, hands searching mine until she could lace our fingers together. “No,” she breathed, hips jutting up in a silent way of asking me to move. “It feels so good.”

I bit the inside of my cheek in an effort not to smile widely at her admission, finally allowing myself to slowly begin dragging my cock out of her tight channel before pushing it in again.

“It does?” I questioned, loving to hear her say it. “Well, I’ll always make you feel this good, baby. How does that sound?” She moaned out loud as I lowered my head to lave her breasts with attention, relishing in every little sound that escaped her beautiful lips as I pounded her on the bed.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, darling.” Another loud moan was all I got as a response, paired with her fingernails biting on the skin of my back. “My good girl, yes?” I insisted, rubbing my jaw against her neck, breathing her in.

I was drunk on her, on this entire experience, still not quite believing it was really happening. She was really here, getting fucked by me. “You’ll be my good girl? Just mine? Forever?”

A smile spread out over her lips, even as she threw her head back to moan a “Yes.” I chuckled against her chest, starting to suck little bruises here and there, wanting to see her all marked up on me, when she interrupted my plans with a breathless comment, “You talk dirty.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckled against her lips, right as she started to convulse underneath me, clinging to my back for dear life. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Her nails scratched me as she found her bliss, and I wasn’t too far behind. As I started to pick up my pace, really milking her orgasm while searching for mine, it was her words that brought me to my ultimate release.

“C-cum inside, I want it inside of me.” I knew she wasn’t in any form of contraception, and I also knew this wasn’t the right time for either of us to become parents, but to say the idea didn’t arouse me was a lie. 

Flashes of her young body with my baby in it had my cock twitching, the risk of getting my perfect future right then too exciting. She’d be the perfect mother, I just knew it. And the fact that she would take the chance of becoming the mother of my child right then affected me so much that even after I emptied myself inside of her, I was still hard.

Her fingers played with my curls as I rested my head between her breasts, breathing her in, trying to catch my breath. “I can’t believe I get to sleep next to you tonight,” she said, melting my heart right then and there. “I hate it when you’re away.”

I did too. But I’d never need to be again.

#my fics #tom hardy smut #tom hardy #smut #mentor au #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy reader #tom hardy reader insert #tom hardy reader inserts #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy oneshot #tom hardy rpf #rpf #tom hardy imagine

[starryevermore]

how to say i love you ✧ ransom drysdale

masterlist

request: when you get the chance, pls write some fluffy Ransom writings, my heart can’t take all of this angst 🤣

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

summary: ransom is a little unconventional in how he says “i love you”. 

word count: 3,232

warnings?: implied smut, fluffy

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was neither easily lovable nor the kind of person who loved easily. He was rough around the edges, a result of his upbringing. For a long time, he didn’t even know about the word “love”, about the phrase “I love you”. It wasn’t until he was in school that he even heard it. Some kids on the schoolyard declaring their love and affection to whoever their significant other of the day was. And he didn’t understand the phrase. Not one bit. It was...confusing. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. What was love, really? What kind of feeling was that? It was so far removed from his experience, that he just couldn’t figure it out. So he took that phrase, filed it away to deal with later, and...he never did. 

He didn’t love. He just wasn’t the kind of person who said “I love you”. It was a point of contention in many of his relationships. His girlfriends would always willingly declare their love for him. But when it came time for him to reciprocate? He just...couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The words just felt wrong in his mouth. Like they weren't his to say. He’d never felt loved. So why should he be saying it like it meant something to him? 

It didn’t.

It never had, and it never would. 

At least, that’s how he felt before he met you. 

He never meant to feel like that around you. It was a complete accident. When he first met you, it was at a book signing for Harlan. Apparently, you were a new author that Blood Like Wine had signed for their newly acquired young adult imprint. When he first saw you, all he could think of was your cute ass and your pretty little legs that he imagined would look so good wrapped around him. And then he spoke to you, catching your name, and remembering that Harlan had said something about you being a hidden gem for the company. That you had a lot of talent and, with the right marketing, you could dominate any and every bestseller’s lists. A talented, soon-to-be accomplished woman. Perfect for Ransom, and he said about as much. Asked you out on a date, said he could show you around Boston, and you...

Declined. Said no, that you weren’t looking for any sort of relationship. Not now, not for a long time. 

And that confused, irritated, and enticed him all at the same time. He wasn’t used to being told “no”. That word was almost as foreign as “love” to him. And it only drew him in further. When he found out that Harlan was planning on inviting you to family functions, Ransom found himself finding reasons to show up, to deal with his family’s obnoxious attitudes if only for a moment to speak with you. 

If you were just as frustrated with his family’s antics, you didn’t show it. No, you didn’t crack at all when attention would turn towards you, when someone would have some snide remark about how you were able to land the publishing deal you had. Hell, you didn’t even say anything. You would just laugh, a sort of “I’m better than you, and I don’t even have to say anything to prove it” kind of laugh, and take a sip of your wine before turning to talk to Harlan or Meg or...his mother? Fuck, why would you choose to talk to his mother of all people? 

He caught you later in the night, when he was one wrong move from going off on his family. You were looking out one of the large windows in Harlan’s home, still sipping on your wine. You looked almost at peace, even with his family going at each other’s throats in the next room. He almost didn’t want to disturb that peace. Almost. But he was Ransom fucking Drysdale, and he got what he wanted, and what he wanted in that moment was to talk to you. 

“You ready to go off running, find another publisher so you don’t have to deal with this shit?” he asked, standing beside you and looking out the window, too. 

You glanced at him, before turning your attention back to the starlit night. “S’gonna take more than a few catfights to scare me off, Drysdale.”

“I have to admit, I was impressed by the way you held your own in there. Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone just...not respond to all that bullshit.”

You smirked. “You should try it some time. There’s no greater satisfaction than looking at someone who’s trying to get a rise out of you dead in the eyes and not giving them the reaction they want. Their reaction to that? Oh, it’s borderline orgasmic.”

He looked over at you, trying to get a good look at your face as he delivered his next time with a shit-eating grin. “I can show a thing or two about orgasms.”

“That a promise?” you asked. “If it is, you gotta take me out to a nice restaurant first.”

He only choked on his drink. He wasn’t expecting that. After the way you blew him off at Harlan’s book signing, he was expecting you to be more difficult to catch. “That easy, huh? Just a little dinner and a few orgasms and you’re mine?”

“Never said I’d be yours, Drysdale,” you said. “But a girl’s got needs. If I can kill two birds with one stones, then I gotta take it when I can.”

“Well, why’s now different than before?”

You tore your eyes away from the night sky to look around the room. You pursed your lips before admitting, “Harlan said something about how you need someone headstrong to go toe-to-toe with, thought I could be the one to do that. And, well, I didn’t give much of a shit about what he was saying. Still don’t, if I'm being honest. But you offered me an orgasm, and goddammit I'm gonna get it.”

“And it’ll get him off your back,” he chuckled. 

“Perhaps. Or it’ll make it worse. We’ll just have to burn that bridge when we get there.”

“What, we gonna just run off together if he gets on our case even more than before?”

“Never said together, Drysdale. That’s wholly dependent on how good you are in bed.”

“Well, I can promise you that you’re not gonna want to leave my bed when I get my hands on you.”

That Friday night, he took you out to this upscale restaurant that had just opened. It had good reviews, looked just impressive enough that would keep you enticed, and he got the chance to display his superior tastes in, well, everything. And yet, you looked at the restaurant, its menu, like he’d taken you to a lowly McDonald’s. Sipped your wine like it wasn’t anything better than grape juice. Didn’t seem at all impressed with his choice. 

When he got you in his Beemer, he was on edge. Whether it was at you for not caring where he took you or at himself for not finding a place you would actually enjoy, he didn’t know. But he was pissed, and he needed to release that energy fast. By the time he got to his house, he was ready to throw you on the nearest surface and fuck you so hard that you would have no choice to stay with him, if just for how he could make you come undone. 

Instead, the moment you walked through the door, you’d grabbed him by the scarf, practically pulling him on top of you. He braced himself against the wall, his question dying before it could even pass by his lips when you pressed your pretty little lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip. And, though he didn’t want to pull away, he still had to say his piece. 

“And here I thought you didn’t enjoy the night, petal,” he said, before connecting your lips to his once more.

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” you mumbled between kisses. “Didn’t want you to think this was gonna be easy, but just lost my will to fight as soon as I saw how worked up you got.”

“Yeah? Well that’s all you, petal. Think it’s only right you help me wind down.” He hands slipped to the underside of your thighs, hoisting you in the air as your legs wrapped around his legs. 

“Shit, if that’s my punishment, you knew I gotta accept.”

“Oh, no, your punishment’s gonna be a lot worse than that, petal. I’ll make sure of that.”

He made sure to keep his earlier promise of making you not want to leave his bed once he got a hold of you. And you didn’t. Stayed with him the whole weekend, waltzing around his home like you owned it all but a pair of clothes. He was sure that there wasn’t a single surface that he hadn’t taken you on by the time Monday rolled around. But, on Monday, you slipped on the clothes you long since abandoned, gave him a kiss on the cheek and went on your merry little way. 

He didn’t hear from you for a while after that. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting much from that date. He certainly didn’t expect anything, any semblance of feelings, to come from it. And yet, when you never called him again, he found it hard to just get you off his mind. Even when he went through his list of girls, he just couldn’t let you go. Something about you, your dismissive attitude, just drew him in. And he wasn’t going to let that pass him by. 

After finding out about a meeting you’d had with your publishers, he waited outside of the building until you came down, practically throwing you in his car before he demanded to know why you’d been dodging his calls. 

“Careful, Drysdale, or someone might think you care,” you teased, your pretty little smirk dancing across your face. 

“Is it a crime if I do?”

You paused, as though you hadn’t expected that. “Well, if you do care,” you finally said, “then I gotta be your only one. None of your other girls can fall back into your rotation. Just me or not at all.”

“How do you know I got other girls?”

“A guy like you doesn’t exactly settle,” you said. “And I’m not about that life. So it’s either me, or I get out of this car and leave, making that weekend just a one time thing. What do you want?”

He froze, unsure if he was ready for such a commitment, even if it wasn’t a relationship. But, then he remembered how no one else made him feel seen the way you made him feel, no one made him...feel quite the way you did. And so he said, “I’m all yours. And I can promise you that.”

The two of you existed like that for three months, all sex and dates and feelings, but no label. No label. And Ransom didn’t like that. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he fucking hated it. 

Maybe it was because there was a chance that you could end it as quickly as you started it. Turn around, say that you wanted something else, and leave. You weren’t his, after all. You were just a girl he was having fun with, nothing more, nothing less. And he really didn’t like that. 

One day, as he sat in the bathtub, covered in bubbles with your back pressed against his chest, he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question he hadn’t asked in a long time. Not since, his college days, he realized. 

“Be my girl?”

“Aren’t I already?”

“No, for real this time. None of this unlabelled shit anymore,” he said. “Be my girl, officially.”

You turned your head to look back at him, wearing that little smirk he wanted to just kiss away. “You mean you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Took you longer to ask than I thought,” you mused. “But I would love to be your girlfriend.”

The knot he hadn’t realized was being tied up in his stomach untangled itself. “Good. Because I wasn’t gonna let you go if you said no.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“You are my treasure,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’m never letting you go.”

He kept that promise, too. Most days, you didn’t leave his house. You’d stay wrapped up in one of his sweaters, tucked away in the corner of his big couch, typing away as you worked on your next novel. Or you’d be in his kitchen, insisting that he was gonna love that new recipe you were trying, only for it all to go up in smoke and you’d have to order pizza lest you go to bed without a proper dinner. Or you’d be spinning around his bathroom, singing along to some Harry Styles song as you got ready in the morning. 

Or, it’d be like now, with you tucked away in his arms, the sunlight streaming through his big windows, pulling the two of you out of sleep.

“I want to spend every morning waking up like this,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose in your hair. “All I want is you in my arms.”

“Yeah? Don’t you already have that?” you asked.

“Not officially,” he said. “You can still leave if you want. All your stuff’s still in your place. Want it here. With me.”

“...are you asking me to move in?”

“Well, you’re the one asking. I’m just saying what I want.”

“And what Ransom wants, Ransom gets,” you teased. 

He kissed the corner of your smirk. “Now you’re speaking my language. So, what do you say? Wanna be my roommate?”

You laughed loudly, burying your face in his chest as your shoulders shook. “I mean, if this is the kinda treatment I get as a guest, I’d better be getting first class treatment as your roommate.”

He laughed, too, pulling your face away so you’d look at him as he pressed soft kisses around your face. “Whatever you want, petal. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”  

The only downside that came from you moving in with him was that he got to see all your bad sides. The bad days. The ugly moments. The moments where you’d bury yourself in your work, pretend that everything was fine when it really wasn’t. It was hard to navigate those moments. He was used to fights, not kindness. He didn’t know what to do when things like that happened. But he...He didn’t want to ruin this. He’s ruined a lot of things in his life, a lot of those things being intentionally fucked up, but this wasn’t one of those things.

He meant what he said when he said he never wanted to let you go. 

He got better at telling the good days from the bad days. And he got good about knowing how to pull you out of those bad moments. Figured out how to make you feel loved, even if he couldn’t say the words. 

It was a bad day, and he knew it from the moment he left the house. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but he needed to drop off some paperwork with Harlan. It was supposed to be quick, done and over with in a span of a few minutes. And yet, it felt like a century he was away. He didn't like leaving you on the bad days, and he knew you didn’t either. But, at least while he was gone, he could get something to make you feel better.

“Hey, petal. I picked up your favorite from that little Chinese place you like so much,” he said, getting in his car, dropping the takeout bag in his passenger seat. He switched his phone to his other ear as he started his car. “I’ll be home soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you said, before the two of you said your goodbyes and ended the call.

When he got home, you practically threw yourself in his arms. “Missed you,” you mumbled against his chest. 

“Missed you too, petal, but I’m here now.” He held up the takeout bag. “And look! I even made sure they threw in extra fortune cookies.”

Your eyes lit up. “Extra fortune cookies? Oh, Ran, you spoil me.”

“What can I say? I’ll do anything to make you feel good.” He leant down and kissed the top of your head. “Promise.”

In spite of all of the ups and downs that came in a relationship, Ransom knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were a diamond in a sea of coal. He wasn’t stupid enough to let someone like you pass him by. He wanted you to be his, now and forevermore. 

He planned a little dinner in his backyard. Had a cute little set up, with a pretty little gazebo and fairy lights and a little table. Brought in a professional chef, had all of your favorite foods made. Imported the best wine. Made sure that everything you loved was incorporated in some capacity. And, God, when he saw the way your face lit up when you saw everything he did for you? He wanted to see that everyday for the rest of his life. 

He could hardly wait for dessert to be finished. He was buzzing with excitement, ready to hear you say “yes” to the only question he’d ask that would really matter. By the time you took the last bite of the tiramisu, he was already reaching across the table to grab at your hand. 

“Yeah?” you asked as you swallowed your dessert.

“I want to be your future,” he declared, sliding out of his seat and falling down to one knee. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small velvet box and popping it open. Your hand flew to your mouth, and he could see the tears welling up in your eyes. “Petal, you’re all I want. I’m the kind of man who’s had everything I could ask for. But all the riches in the world couldn’t amount to you. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I can’t ever let you go. Not when you made my life so much richer with you as my girl. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll let me.” “Oh, Ransom,” you cried.

“So, what do you say? Will you be Mrs. Drysdale?”

“Baby, you didn’t even have to ask. Of course I’ll be your wife. Of course I’ll be,” you sobbed as he slid the diamond engagement ring onto your finger. He stood, and so did you, him taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips. “God, I love you so much, Ran.”

And though he wanted to say it back, his chest felt tight when he tried to form the word around his lips. Instead—

“You do know that I...” He paused, the word feeling foreign in his mouth, like it wasn’t his to say. “...care about you a lot, right?”

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, cradling his face in your hands. “I know that you love me. I do. You tell me everyday in your own way.”

#requested by anon #ransom drysdale #knives out #knives out (2019) #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fan fic #ransom drysdale fan fiction #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x fem!reader #*written by: me #starrybrock

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 11- Fond Memories

Summary: It’s just a memory, but it’s a good one.

Warning: fluff, smut ur welcome

Masterlist

June 21, 2016 - Bucharest, Romania

Wandering down the crowded streets of Bucharest, your eyes casually survey the surrounding area until they land on a little news cart holding the latest universal gossip that may spark a possible interest in the random civilian, among other things.

It’s hot out on this fine summers day, so all you carry on your person is your usual travel boots, black jeans, and a tank top to show off those guns of yours that Bucky loves so much. In your right hand is a plastic grocery bag hung loosely in your fingers, filled with two oranges and a cold lemonade, Bucky’s request. Though it’s slowly losing its chill from the afternoon heat.

As of recently you’ve become the designated grocery store adventurer since it’s the middle of summer and Bucky’s usual attire is to wear pants and a long sleeved shirt with gloves because of well, his arm. And since he doesn’t want to feel too out of place, also considering he’s incredibly cautious about where he shows off his metal appendage. You handle business on the streets, which today happens to be getting some fruit and a cold beverage back home to your man.

Though you’re admittedly a bit distracted by the local newspapers seated comfortably on their propped up stand. Soon you’re at the young teens cart, eyeing up the paper with curious eyes, “Hello miss.” Greets the boy in Romanian as you give a nod in acknowledgment, “That was sure something that happened in Sokovia huh, people still talking about it even now...glad I don’t live there. But uh, I guess the Avengers saved the day, well, most of it I think.”

“No doubt they probably helped cause it.” You add bitterly, eyes scanning over the heroic faces of Ironman and Captain America as they stand with great pose and purpose on the front magazine. Heroes? What a bunch of bullshit and flashy images underlying the darker truth to these people. These so called saviors.

If they truly cared, if real heroes actually gave a shit besides attempting to clean up their own messes, Hydra would be completely eradicated from the face of the earth and trafficking rings wouldn’t exist. But here we are.

“Uh, you wanna buy a paper?” Asks the young boy, smiling a shy yet hopeful grin. 

I’d rather get stabbed, you think.

“No thanks, just here to look.” You add bluntly before turning on your heel and walking away, sauntering down the street as more people pass by you on your way to the apartment complex just over the next block. In no time have you reached the building, heading up the long flight of stairs before at long last do you stop at the front door.

Your relationship with Bucky is still relatively new, so you don’t want to startle him by just bursting in, so instead do you knock a couple times to gather is attention. Hopefully he’s not snoozing again. Taking a step back, you can hear shuffling from the other side before he reaches the door. You smile, knowing he can see you through the peep hole, “I got lemonade.” You add, holding up the bag as he unlocks the door, opening it up a crack before cautiously glancing to either side of you.

Realizing the coast is most certainly clear, Bucky opens the door fully to reveal nothing more then some grey sweatpants and a loose sleeveless black t-shirt hung perfectly against his body, amplifying his beefy muscles that not only could crush a man but can most definitely get you feeling all sorts of ways when used appropriately.

“Yes, get in here Y/N.” Urges Bucky with a humored smile and a small wave as you quickly wander in past him before setting your bag on the far counter near the sink.

Taking the decently cool beverage out, you turn around to face Bucky, who��s standing semi-awkwardly out in the open. A small dust of pink covers his stubbled cheeks as you take him all in. It’s not like you haven’t seen him bare ass naked before, it’s just, he feels comfortable enough to let his guard down with you and that's somethings he’s never truly ever felt before. He gets a little shy sometimes, so what?

“They finally had it. So I snatched this beautiful bitch the second my eyes landed on her. Hope it soothes all your troubles away and sends you on a spiritual journey through the meadows of....uh, wherever this place is from.” You mutter, trying to figure out how to pronounce the name of the company as he walks over to you; giving up on that curiosity, you decide to hand Bucky the drink instead, “Yeah, whatever I hope it tastes good.”

He gratefully accepts, “Thanks Y/N, you’re the best. Seriously.” Praises Bucky as he twists the lid off and takes a drink, face appearing to rather enjoy it as he proceeds to down the whole 8oz sugary bittersweet contents right before your vary eyes.

Well, he certainly wasn’t lying.

He finally pulls the bottle from his wet lips, taking a deep breath as you raise a brow at him, “I’m gonna take that as you finding nothing wrong with it whatsoever.” Licking the sweet wetness from his pink lips, Bucky chuckles before shrugging.

“I haven’t had lemonade since the 40’s so even if it was actually kinda bitter, I don’t think I would have noticed.”

“Damn. That long?” You question as he nods, “Fuck those assholes,” You growl, taking a step closer to Bucky so that he can pull you into his arms as you raise your head to greet him, “now they can never keep you from such rare pleasures ever again.”

Bucky reveals a beautiful white toothed smile, thick arms holding you close as he presses his forehead to yours, “And what would you do if they did?”

Running your hands up and down his muscular back, you gently place a sweet kiss against his plush lips, “I’d fucking gut every single one of them until you’re safe with me, drinking all the lemonade you could ask for.” He chuckles lightly before pressing his lips against yours once again, the taste of sugary lemonade reaching your tongue as he lets you explore his mouth a bit, Bucky doing the same with you.

Hands feeling your enticing vessel up as he takes in everything about you that he could possibly get from this positioning with you wrapped up in his arms, you fully enjoy this wonderful moment with your sweet man. Somedays he gets all cold and withdrawn, nightmares seeping into his scarred mind that pull forth dark memories back out into the open.

He’ll wake up next to you in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as he quickly scans the small apartment for any signs of possible danger threatening himself or even your own life. Then for the rest of the day he’ll stay considerably more quiet then usual, agitated with himself and the general world, though he’s never short with you when he gets like this. You hate to see him when he’s like that, frustrated, distant, and in a low pit of despair from everything Hydra put him through.

But he never once has lashed out at you when he’s having a rough day, he’s well aware how Hydra has toyed with your head and pulled the strings time and time again before you broke from their inky black tentacles. He knows you understand how he feels, and he knows how your mental and physical resilience has aided in your self healing from the trauma they’ve given you.

Although for Bucky, he’s still marked from deep within, everything they’ve ever burned into his brain is still there. Just below the surface. All the memories, all the commands, all the deaths, everything they imprinted on him still clings to him like an unrelenting demon.

But the days when he’s more soft and clingy appear to claim Bucky the most, and those days are your absolute favorite. Sure his handsome face still reveals a bit of that usual Bucky darkness that gives his eyes a tinge of roughed beauty, something that admittedly draws you in even further.

He’ll choose to speak with you on his own accord, tease you if he’s in the mood, and hold a part of your body that intrigues him the most for that length of time. He gravitates in your direction when he’s having a good day, seeking out your attention in any way conceivable and making it an absolute necessary goal of his to give you as much loving as he possibly can try in a single hour.

You love days like this, you love feeling wanted and appreciated for your very existence when so many would rather see you dead. You love having those big beautiful blues studying every single curve, muscle, and blemish on your skin like a student to their books. He practically drinks you in, making it his mission to hold you close and speak sweet nothings that will be remembered for a hundred years more.

So when you have to leave for supplies or pay the rent, Bucky feels like a lonely and lost old house cat with nothing to do all day except wait as patiently as he can until you arrive home safe and sound. He obviously doesn’t slip this to you about how he feels when you must vacate the premise and venture out into the unknown for however long it takes.

But you know, if it wasn’t already evident on his face when you greet him after such travels. The way his face lights up in excitement and relief once he finally sees you, the telltale crinkle in the corner of his eyes, and the way that his lips pull into a positive grin that could make you swoon in an instant.

You could absolutely just about die happy, you’ve never been more catered to and loved on in your entire life since you’ve started living with Bucky in Romania, well, since your once fragile relationship took a turn for the best. Resulting in whatever beautiful thing you two have going on now, though neither of you have outwardly labeled your growing relationship.

It’s more so an unspoken thing that’s adherently mutual, the both of you clearly understanding this isn’t some friends with benefits type shit. Oh no, definitely far from that. So what you have with Bucky right now is something so deeply special and bound by so much more then physical love and personal feelings.

You two have lived a past like no other, survived like beasts of war for masters who threw the command and controlled the reigns. Fought together, bled together, and kept imprisoned by Hydra together. Your pasts are blooded and heavy, but it’s only worked to make your relationship stronger. And perhaps that’s the only positive of what those fuckers did to you, without them, you’d never have met the Winter Soldier.

Without them, you’d never have lived this long to find Bucky Barnes, never have been given the opportunity to see him for all that he’s worth. And to you, he’s worth more then all the stars in the sky.

Your lover kisses your lips once more as you smile into the soft embrace, causing him to laugh as you pull away, “What’s so funny?” Wonders Bucky, revealing his own beautiful smile that could light up the darkest room.

Raising your hands to gently touch the sides of his stubbled cheeks, you give him a small peck, “You taste like lemons.” You muse.

“Oh, is that good then?” He asks, brow raised as you give him another quick kiss in reply before he smiles a lovestruck grin back down at you, “I think I’ll take that as a yes.”

You smile brightly before tugging on a lock of his dark shoulder length hair, “You plan on turning into the wolfman soon? It’s touching your shoulders now.”

Bucky side eyes your fingers laced through his admittedly long hair, “I guess......maybe it needs a little cut.” He begrudgingly admits, “But only a little cut, okay. Not a lot.” Worries your sweet man as you let go of his dark mane to pull away from his muscular vessel.

Hands outward and forming the shape of a square as you size him up for a photographic image sent directly into your brain, “Yeah. I can work with this, you got the looks. The face, very nice. Body, oh dear lord is it fine. Mhmm hmm, and that hair? Absolutely glorious, a lot of volume, shiny, good bounce to it....oh yeah I can work with this...”

“Are you done?” Chuckles Bucky as you drop your hands to your thighs.

“What? I was just pretending to be your photographer, was I not convincing enough?”

“Well..”

You take a step forward, gently touching the bottom of his chin before making a cheeky face and turning to wander towards the bathroom, Bucky slowly following your lead in curiosity as you explain, “I’ll have you know Barnes, I once convinced some high end Bulgarian official that I was actually a Russian princess in hiding. He believed it too.” You mutter while rummaging through the drawers under the bathroom sink. Bucky leaning against the doorway as he watches you intently.

“Honestly, it was rather pathetic too. Old fucker was so drunk I could have told him I was a pixie from the realm of toxic waste baskets and he would have believed me.” You add, searching for wherever the fucking scissors went, “Of course his idiot companions were none the wiser and I got the intel I needed out of him. How you ask?” Grabbing the silver coated utensil from out of the drawer, you rise to your full height.

Cutting the air, you throw him a wink as you move to wander past him, “That information is top secret. But let’s just say he never made it back to his friends.” You smirk, setting the scissors on the small center table before snatching the tiny plastic trash can and taking it with you over to the table once again.

Bucky watches as you pull the two chairs to face opposite of one another, placing the trash can in the center of the two wooden seats as you bring your bum down on to the flat chair. “Now sit. This may get messy.”

Bucky snorts, moving to do just that, “I don’t wanna see any blood, Y/N. I know how you are with sharp objects.” Jokes your man with a telling smirk as you simply roll your eyes before pulling your right leg up, leaning it against your left thigh as you begin unlacing your boots. “Whatcha doing there Y/N?”

Tugging on the sides of your boots to loosen them up, you throw him a side glance, “Getting comfortable.”

Bucky nods, “Of course. This is serious business.”

You chuckle, pulling off your boot and throwing it to the side before exchanging your one leg for the other, “Gives you more time to check me out.”

Biting his bottom lip, Bucky leans his metal elbow against the table as he shamelessly watches you do your thing, “Well, no.....I wasn’t doing that, definitely not....but uh, I like your socks. Very interesting choice.” Points Bucky while you toss your other boot to the floor with a small thud. Shaking your head while Bucky makes fun of your current socks that reach above your ankles, a multitude of cartoon rainbow kittens dancing all about with a solid grey background. One tiny worn down hole showing some skin on the back of your heel that would most likely have blistered by now if not for your healing capabilities.

“Huh? Oh, these fuckers?” You snicker, sticking one foot close to his face as he leans back to avoid your teasing, “Fought them off a homeless guy in the park.”

Bucky makes a humored expression ranging between slight disgust and great amusement at your theatrical antics, reaching his flesh hand out to catch your ankle before you can smack him with your extremity. “I’m sure you kicked his ass.”

Setting your foot down, you nod, “Oh I did, you should have seen it, I’m sure you could have learned a thing or two.”

“Okay.” Mutters Bucky sarcastically whilst rolling his eyes, “At least I’m not the one in the care-bear socks.”

You raise a brow at him, legitimately impressed by this reference, “I’m surprised you even know what that is.” You tease before sticking your one foot out and pointing both hands in its general direction, “These. Are cat socks for your information....but no one ever said pretty people were smart so I won’t hold it against you.”

“Ouch.” Laughs Bucky, “Take a look in the mirror hot stuff.”

Smacking his metal arm, you pick up the scissors, “Okay smartass now I’m going to give you a weird haircut for that one.”

“I said you were hot.” Protests Bucky with a laugh as you slice the scissors in the air menacingly, “Forgive me.”

“You implied I was lacking in smarts so now you’re getting a shitty haircut you dumbfuck, come here you coward!” Bucky leans backwards towards the table as you press your freehand on his chest, your other hand held upwards by Bucky’s metal fist as you practically lean your whole body against his. Scissors snapping in the air as he attempts to restrain you.

“Y/N! I’m sorry please don’t cut my hair weird I’ll never leave the apartment again.” He pleads through amused giggles as you playfully let him keep you from doing any sort of damage to his beautiful dark locks.

“You don’t leave the apartment to begin with!”

“That’s true but still!”

“Let me go and I will be nice about it.” You reason, “I promise.” Bucky gives you a half nervous glance before letting go of your wrist, smiling down at him, you slide off his body before seating yourself back down again. “See, not so hard. Now take your shirt off and turn around.”

Bucky’s brows raise instantly while he breaks out into a suggestive grin, “Y/N, that’s kinky.”

Rolling your eyes, you bite your bottom lip to keep from giving him the satisfaction of a genuine smile, “Do it or I’ll hurt you, and not how you like it.” Bucky snorts as you break out into a smile, “Come on muscles I wanna see some skin.”

“Is this really necessary?” Wonders Bucky as he grasps the bottom of his shirt.

“Yes.” You reply, watching as he removes his tank top with ease before setting it atop the cold surface of the table, “It’s so you don’t get hair all over your shirt Barnes, and don’t say it’s not a big deal cause I know you’ll get itchy.”

“Whatever. Just don’t cut me.” Grumbles Bucky as he shifts around in his chair so that you have a clear view of the back of his head and all that glorious hair just screaming to be snipped to perfection. “Seriously be careful.”

Scooting your chair closer so that your legs are parted for a better angle, you semi-roughly tug down on his dark locks causing the super soldier to grunt in pain, “Y/N!” Grumbles Bucky through clenched teeth, “What the hell?” He whines as you chuckle mischievously from behind him.

“Oh shut it you big baby, I know what I’m doing.” Bucky’s mouth opens to protest, but before he’s able to throw something witty at you to counter your sass, you’ve made a loud snip snip sound with the scissors.

“Careful.” Worries Bucky as you hold a chunk of his hair before letting the utensil slice right through the brown follicles like a knife through some soft chocolate cake. Soon more and more tuffs of discarded hair fall into the wastebasket as you work around the back of his head. He doesn’t say a word the whole time as you skillfully cut your way to a half-descent haircut.

After a good five minutes, you lean back to examine your work, “Okay, looking good.”

“Can I see.”

“No.” You deadpan with a small chuckle before pressing the handle of the scissors to his bare back, “Turn around wolfman I need to do the front.”

Sighing, Bucky shifts, turning around to finally face you. Both your legs staggered side by side now as he looks into your eyes like a beaten down puppy, “Oh don’t look at me like that Barnes. Your torture session is almost over.” You add before kissing your fingers and pressing them against his lips for a brief second of silent affection.

Bucky cracks a handsome grin while your left hand messes up his long bangs, “Must you do that too.” Complains your grumbly lover in annoyance as you slice some areas near his face. “Yep. I’m not cutting all of it, I’m just giving your eyes some trim to see. Bucky you’ve been putting your hair up in buns for a week now.”

“Okay fine.”

“I mean, I like it. But you need a cut, I miss seeing your pretty face.” Bucky closes his eyes as you make quick work of his hair, deciding it best to just keep his thoughts to himself and let you do your masterful work, hopefully resulting in a decent job well done.

Soon he hears one last snip before you dramatically gasp causing his eyes to shoot open, “What did you do!?” Worries Bucky as you start smiling like an idiot.

“Oh my...ha, you look so good!” You affirm with an excited squeak of joy, setting the scissors down on the table before reaching your hands out to dive your fingers through his soft mane like an excited child petting a furry cat for the first time.

Bucky’s hands wrap around your forearms as he smiles, “Okay, okay, Y/N...” Starts Bucky as you take your hands and gently push his hair back to see his handsome face.

“Why, hello there Mr. Barnes.” You slyly jest as he studies your smirking face, “Don’t you just look absolutely dashing.”

“Am I free to look now?” Implores your lover with a shy smile as he rests his hands to either one of your thighs, squeezing lightly while you nod. “Go for it.”

He lets go, getting up from the chair to saunter on into the bathroom to observe your skilled work as a terribly underpaid hairdresser. In the meantime, you’ve cleaned off the few stray hairs coating the table and dumped them in the small trash can. Setting the chairs back into their normal positioning as you place the trash back in it’s usual spot by the window.

A mischievous grin coating your features as you stand causally by the fridge, awaiting Bucky who soon walks out of the bathroom. Smile on his beautiful features before his face falls into a confused yet oddly amused expression. “Y/N what are you doing? You look like Hitler.”

“What? No I don’t!” You protest, removing Bucky’s discarded lock of hair from your upper lip and tossing it in the trash, “Well you look.....uh, you look like uh.....I don’t know. You look really hot, I’m kind of distracted not gonna lie.”

Bucky smiles, cheeks dusting a light pink color as he walks closer to you. Noticeably still lacking an actual shirt which is doing wonders to your swirling thoughts that are turning a bit dirty, and those grey sweatpants? Hanging dangerously low on his beautiful body, you can see his famous V line in your peripheral vision as you strain to keep your eyes locked with his.

Oh he is challenging you big time.

Bucky, too observant for his own good, takes the hint that you’re starting to get a little hot and bothered with him looking like that all shirtless in the room and whatnot. Fresh haircut, low pants, and nothing better to do on this fine summer evening.

He raises an intrigued brow, “I know that look.” Muses Bucky with a knowing devilish grin as you shake your head at him, eyes darting to the newspaper covered window. You hate getting caught.

“Nope. What would make you think I’m thinking of...of, whatever you’re thinking. Alright listen, my mind is all pure and good up in here...so I, I have no idea whatever the fuck you’re talking about.” Bucky chuckles, chest rising in little spurts as he humors you, taking a couple more steps closer as you bite your lip in anticipation. Shit, he’s got you right where he wants you.

Ever so gently does five metal fingers reach up to caress the side of your cheek, trailing sweet icy lines down to your chin as his bare chest presses sweetly against your clothed breasts. Flesh hand holding your lower back, pressing you into him, “Y/N.” Whispers Bucky, sounding more like a genuine question as he tilts his head to the side, “What’r you thinking of?”

Pursing your lips together to keep from revealing a full grin to give him that proud satisfaction of turning you on without much effort, you raise a brow, free hand reaching downwards to gently palm him through his sweats that are indeed beginning to tent.

“Hmm. Guess I got you too, and all I did was stand here.” You proudly conclude, slipping a hand into his pants as you trail your fingers up and down his hardening length, causing Bucky to groan in arousal at your playful teasing. “Fuck me I could listen to that voice for a thousand years and never get tired of hearing you moan Buck.”

Bucky grabs your hand currently exploring his neither regions, pulling it out as he takes both your hands with his, face leaning in real close to yours, “I was not moaning.” He confirms with a sly grin, “This...is a moan.” And a second later he’s pressing his flesh digits into your clothed heat, rubbing your growing arousal with the pads of his skilled fingers as your face shifts with pleasure.

“oh.” Softly escapes from your parted lips, the sound coming out as more of a breathy gasp of air then anything really comprehensible.

Soon a large grin has found its way onto your flushed features, “You bastard.” Bucky chuckles at your less then heated curse given freely to him before removing his fingers from their pleasurable assault on your sensitive area that’s calling for some real attention, you kiss him again before muttering, “Come on Barnes....”

His lips dance in time with yours as he keeps you from speaking anything otherwise witty back at him, flesh and metal hand trailing up your body until they find the lower rim of your tank top. He pulls the material upwards, breaking the kiss for but a swift moment to let the fabric completely slide right off of your body and onto the floor below.

Lips on yours in an instant as his nimble fingers skillfully unclasp your bra, you’d have praised him for the semi-troublesome work if not for the fact that he’s now using those talented hands of his to knead your naked breasts like the most valuable and sweetest dough in all the land. Touching them with the tenderness of a skilled lover who knows just how to get his lady feeling all sorts of good.

Trailing your digits up and down his bare back, you shift your face to the side so he can keep stealing away more kisses while you try and form a sentence, “Buck...mhmm....mmmm.....Bucky, I need you, mhmm, I need you in me...right, right now.” You mutter in between moans while Bucky’s hardness rubs through his sweatpants and onto your thighs.

His hands trail up to gather the sides of your face in his palms, lips finally parting from yours as his beautiful blues gaze lovingly into your blissful expression, “I think that’s a fantastic idea Y/N. Now if you could lay on this table so I can take your pants off that’d be great.” Softly adds Bucky as you quickly steal a kiss in reply before scooting yourself upon the wooden table.

Leaning your body back as he quickly removes the clothing from your lower half, underwear sliding off next to leave you in nothing but your wit and will, and naked everything. His lust filled eyes trail hungrily down from your protruding breasts to your soaked neither regions hot and ready for his willing member.

“Enough drooling over me Barnes, I wanna see what you’ve got.” He chuckles at getting so easily caught; listening to your inquisition, he swiftly removes those annoying grey sweatpants before slipping off the tight boxers with ease.

Your eyes widen in excitement at the hardened length dripping in precum, his king jewels swollen and ready to send you into a world of wonders soon enough.

Bucky, noticing how your eyes swirl with hunger, takes a step forward, placing his hand on your knee, “This angles kinda weird so...can you turn around?” Asks the super soldier apprehensively, you two have never done it this way before. It’s pretty tame all things considered, but it’s something you’re more than willing to try.

You nod with a mischievous grin, “That’s a little kinky.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, snorting with laughter nonetheless, “Why are you..never mind.” Muses your lover while you swiftly scoot your naked bum off of the table before kissing his cheek and turning around. Laying your stomach against the warmed surface of the wood as you bend over for Bucky to begin his godly work.

Soon his hands are feeling up your beautiful bum before wandering to your sides, “This good? Are you comfortable like this, just tell me if we need the bed instead and I can..”

“Bucky just fuck me.” You quickly interrupt, pushing your ass against his member that’s quite literally poking provocatively at your naked cheeks. “Yeah, okay, right on that.” Replies your man as he holds your left hip in place, flesh hand steadying his cock as he approaches your slick folds.

You can’t see him from this angle, relying on sounds and feel alone; you’re soon pleasantly relieved of the lack of contact when his manhood finally touches the surface of your two mounds before Bucky pushes himself into you.

Spreading you wide open and bare unto him as his length slides completely into your dripping core that’s heated and buzzing with your arousal. He feels good, really good. The slight discomfort gone in an instant as you quickly adjust perfectly in tune with his fullness and girth that stretches your walls so beautifully.

Bucky lets out a pleasant sigh before gently squeezing your hips, “Y/N are you good?” Wonders your sweet man, balls deep inside you but still making it important that you’re feeling as fantastic as him. How considerate.

With one hand gripping the far edge of the table and the other one thrown back to smack affectionately against his hip, you nod while face is pressed against the flat wood, “So good Buck....so good.” You mutter happily.

Taking this as a positive sign, Bucky smiles joyously before pulling a good ways out of you and thrusting himself back in again. Replicating this wondrous action for a good thirty more seconds as he draws your vessel into a new plane of pleasure with each fantastical stroke.

You’re left with soft moans reaching Bucky’s ears while the poor table attempts to keep in its place as Bucky thrusts full force into you over and over again, the legs of wood scraping against the flooring with each pump into your core. Grunting with effort not gone unnoticed by you in the slightest.

Nothing in the small apartment is heard except for the familiar skin on skin contact associated with this or any type of lovemaking, though right now, this angle, and those beautiful groans dripping off of his tongue sets this scene as more of a good fucking between the two of you if you’re being completely honest here.

Bucky’s cock pulses and twitches in excitement as he pulls in and out of you, hands tightly gripping the sides of your hips enough to bruise when all is said and done, luckily for you, quick healing is one of your attributes. Paying no mind the dull ache of his fingers against your flesh, you grip the edge of the table as the titular coil of growing pleasure begins its usual act upon your womanhood.

Bucky’s relentless, pushing himself into you just right with that delicious cock of his, sliding in and out of your slick walls as he works his magic. “oh God Buck...” You moan in absolute bliss, brows raising upwards at the growing sensation building up into your persistent climax.

He smiles to himself, proud of his fruitful efforts to turn you into a moaning mess underneath him, soon he’s picking up the pace with vigor and palpable stamina that you’re all to willing to match. “Buck....oh fu...fuck, I’m so-I’m so close....mhmm..” He slams into you harder now, causing the table to slide across the floor as he continues his pleasurable assault on your core that’s bringing you quickly to the edge of paradise.

“Ah shit.” Mumbles Bucky, realizing this current positioning is messing up his groove since this damn table keeps annoyingly moving in time with his thrusts. A second later his metal arm his lifting your stomach upwards, body to much of a mess to protest, you’re soon pleasantly surprised when your naked back falls flush against his sweaty toned torso as he holds you close.

His metallic hand slides up to hold you in between your breasts as his flesh hand trails down your body until it finds your sensitive bud, Bucky’s skilled fingers rub deliciously against the swollen flesh as he thrusts up into you vigorously. You suppress a whiny moan as your one hand grips tightly onto his forearm holding you to his body. While your other hand reaches up to take a fistful of hair as his head drapes over the side of your shoulder, plush lips planting wet kisses all along your heated skin.

“Mhmm you taste so good.” Praises Bucky as he licks your naked flesh before gently biting down playfully, leaving more love marks as he continues to play with your clit as the coil inside you threatens to unwind.

“Buck, I-I can’t...I’m gonna...” Bucky listens as you begin mumbling incoherent Russian when your orgasm finally hits you full force now, your warm walls tightening around his cock as you emit a plethora of loud moans. Tugging on his hair as he smiles against your skin for the work he’s done.

Your fingers quickly slip from his thick dark locks as you fight to keep your legs from giving out at the intense rush of pleasure flowing through your vessel as Bucky’s fingers spell circles on your sensitive bud. You’re soon getting overstimulated when suddenly he pulls his hand to wrap around your stomach as he finally cums inside you.

The beautiful sounds of Bucky’s low groans and moans filling your ears as he spills himself up into you, cock twitching as he releases it all. The feeling of his cum rushing into your hot center never fails to turn you weak, especially when his body shakes with pleasure as he subconsciously holds you closer while riding out his orgasm.

He thrusts into you a couple more times just to feel it through as he unknowingly sparks more electricity into your already fucked out core that’s now dripping with not only your natural arousal but his hot liquid. Bucky’s head falls into the crook of your neck as he stops pumping into you, plush lips kissing your heated skin as he just embraces the moment of standing butt-ass naked in the kitchen balls deep in you, his loving and beautifully fuckable girlfriend.

He stands like this for about forty whole seconds until you reach a hand up to tug playfully on his hair, “I think we need a shower now.”

Bucky’s lips smile against your skin as he picks his head up, kissing your neck while he pulls himself out of you. His cum slowly trailing down your inner thighs as he turns you around to face him, “I think you’re right. Let’s go before that gets on the floor.” Chuckles Bucky as he takes your hand and walks you into the bathroom.

You stand by the sink as he turns on the shower, fumbling with the settings while you snatch a tissue and begin cleaning yourself up a bit until he turns around, “Wait Y/N, let me do that.” States Bucky as he takes the tissue out of your hand, kneeling down to get a better angle, “It’s kinda my fault anyways and you’ve done enough...”

“I could handle it Buck, but I mean yeah, go for it.” You muse as he whips off the milky liquid trailing lines down your inner thighs, “I don’t doubt you know how to clean a crime scene.”

“This isn’t a crime scene.” Asserts Bucky as he whips away the last of it while you chuckle at his confused facial expression.

He stands as you saunter past him, taking a step into the shower before looking over your shoulder, “Well, guess you’re just gonna have to murder this pussy again and we’ll find out how well your clean up really is.” You tease with a knowing wink before disappearing into the plastic curtains.

Bucky’s brows raise in surprised excitement as he quickly follows you in, soon his hands are feeling you up in all sorts of places. Drawing soft moans of the sweetest sounds into the sexually charged atmosphere, no doubt riling you up for round two. God you love him so fucking much.

Waking with a start, you’re surprised to find your heartbeat racing a mile a minute. Then the wonderful memories of last nights dream hits you like a truck, that wasn’t just a dream, that was a real memory with Bucky. One of the many fantastic ones between the two of you before Zemo happened, before Tony tried to kill him, before Wakanda, and before Thanos ruined it all with a simple snap of his goddamn fingers.

Just a fucking dream. Another good memory. That’s it.

-

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94  @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey  @thescarlettvvitch

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #marvel #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky fic #bucky smut #james buchanan barnes

[franstastic-ideas]

Present Day, Present Time

Undertale - A few months after the barrier is broken, on Christmas day, Frisk gifts Sans with the Reset button as a sign of trust and goodwill between them, telling him it’s his now: to use, to keep, or to destroy. It’s his power now. It may be the best gift Sans has ever received. Sans finally feels like he can move forward.

And he can feel in his SOUL that he wants to move forward with Frisk.

Word Count: 20,603

@nuvex Surprise! I was your Secret Santa for the Gyftmas event! I’n so, so, SO sorry about the long, loooooong, delay! *hysterical sobbing*

Also, this counts as the season prompt for Fransweek, doesn’t it?

Credits for OCs go to @koiikun for Peter and Charlotte, @semisolidmind for Irene, Edgar and Elizabeth, @undertalepre2re for Daddy Longlegs, @eddieveneziano for Spinerette, and @lostmypotatoes for Ku-Mo

Webber and Julian belong to me.

Even prior to the breaking of the barrier, there were an immense number of things that Frisk wanted to experience alongside her monster friends after reaching the surface.

 Going on picnics in the spring, trips to the beach during the summer, jumping in piles of leaves when autumn arrived, and playing in the snow when winter came, organizing ladies’ nights and sleepovers with the girls, celebrating one another’s birthdays...

 But what she looked forward to most was spending Gyftmas with them.

 As it turned out, the monsters celebrated their own wintertime holiday comparable to the surface world’s Christmas, or Hanukkah, or sometimes Kwanza. She had learned of this during her stay in Snowdin Town, a little village located in the snowy section of the Underground that was decorated as though the inhabitants celebrated Gyftmas every day. It was just September when she had first traversed into the town, but all the preparations for the occasion had already been made, completed by a towering tree adorned with an assortment of ornaments that served as the location’s centerpiece, along with plentiful piles of presents lying underneath bearing tags with the names of all the monsters who lived there.

 She supposed even monsterkind wasn’t immune to the widespread seasonal phenomenon commonly referred to as ‘the Christmas creep’.

 Frisk had fallen victim to it as well. The very instant that Sans, Papyrus, and then Undyne, followed by the rest of her new pals did the jimpity jumpity joodle, the limpity loppity leap (as her fishy friend would say) directly into her heart, her mind instantly began to drift towards thoughts of what she was going to give each of them when the month of December arrived. Though she certainly didn’t have much concerning funds at the time, Frisk was still a generous person by nature – there was little that made her happier than watching the expression of wonder and then delight that crossed the recipient’s face as they unwrapped and unboxed their gift.

 Surface or no surface, Frisk was determined to spend the holiday season with her friends, even if it meant plunging into the depths of the Underground a second time with a fully loaded sack of presents slung over her shoulder to do so. Thankfully, it never came to that – with the assistance of Prince Asriel, the six SOULs of the previous fallen humans, and the added SOULS of every single monster in the Underground, the barrier was finally broken for good, so she and everyone else could reach the surface and get to celebrate their first Gyftmas above ground.

 Yes, even Flowey – as much as he denied it, she knew that much of Asriel was still hiding behind the sour personality of that foul flower.

 She wasn’t about to let one rotten apple hinder her or himself from enjoying a slice of the warm apple pie that was the wholesome found-family Gyftmas gathering she was doing her best to serve everyone.

 Sans hadn’t exactly been thrilled with the idea of him partaking in the festivities, even though Frisk had thought that he shouldn’t even remember who Flowey was. She supposed that the negative impressions Flowey left on him in the RESETs of the past, prior to her gaining the power to turn back time from her floral friend, had somehow left a permanent imprint on the skeleton; similar to how Toriel inexplicably recalled that she preferred cinnamon over butterscotch, along with a plethora of other phantom memories the monsters she closely interacted with experienced throughout the courses of her subterranean adventure.

 Flowey had been extremely reluctant to leave his previous spot in the empty Underground. He had stayed behind by choice, after all. However, the frequent offers she made during her continuous visits eventually wore him down, and he said he would go with her under one stipulation – that his true identity remained a secret between the two of them. She agreed to his terms, and Flowey allowed her to take him to the surface to join the rest of her companions – he even willingly climbed into the flowerpot she bought and brought just for him!

 Frisk and Toriel shared dual custody of him - the kind goat lady apparently saw the good inside him that he so desperately tried to pretend didn’t exist, and decided to welcome him into her home whenever he wished to visit. Flowey unexpectedly took her up on the invitation, showing minimal resistance to the idea before accepting. Perhaps he missed his mother more than he initially thought.

 This is what Frisk believed, and not without good reason. One Sunday afternoon just a few weeks ago, the queen of monsters invited the two over for tea and cookies. Everything had been relatively peaceful, nothing out of the ordinary – all until Toriel had wordlessly placed another one of the sweets on Flowey’s plate, unprompted.

 The words ‘Thank you, mama’ had instinctively escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Toriel was touched at hearing that, no matter how accidental it may have been, feeling as though the usually bad-tempered little flower had finally warmed up to her.

 But for him, it was excruciatingly painful. He was dead silent for the rest of the time spent in her company and swiftly requested to go home with Frisk once they finished their snacks. The sweet goat lady saw nothing wrong with his behavior, simply assuming that his little slip of the tongue had embarrassed him.

 In actuality, the very instant Frisk stepped into her own home and locked the door behind them, Flowey had burst into a hysterical fit of tears, sobbing as he whispered ‘mama’ under his breath, over and over again before crying out, ‘I miss my mama!’.

 After he had calmed down considerably, Frisk never once leaving his side the whole while, he once again asserted that he wasn’t going to tell Toriel or Asgore the truth. However, Flowey then said afterwards that, perhaps one day, he may. Just not now. He wasn’t ready yet, and he doubted they were either.

 Frisk had been nothing but supportive, assuring Flowey that it was fine for him to take as long as he needed in sorting out his feelings towards the matter, to which he again stated as he so often had in the past that he had no feelings left anymore. That was a lie. A lie that the both of them obviously knew wasn’t true.

 Someone with no emotions inside them wouldn’t show visible delight when biting into homemade cookies and pie, nor would they shriek with blatant terror when startled by a cheap jumpscare tactic in a poorly made horror flick during movie night every other Friday, or display signs of what could only be described as intense jealousy when their best and only friend is constantly being ‘stolen away’, from their perspective, by a lazy, ketchup-chugging, pun-spewing bag of bones.

 Someone with nothing left to feel wouldn’t wail for his mother during a rare moment of vulnerability.

 Frisk wholeheartedly enjoyed each and every second she spent in Flowey’s presence, much to the actually rather understandable perplexity of some of her other friends. She could state countless reasons as to why she would feel this way, but one of them was; hearing the sound of his voice made this big house of hers feel less empty.

 Several weeks after gaining the official position of ambassador of monsterkind, Frisk had woken up to the unexpected surprise of receiving an expensive estate in a basically brand-new neighborhood. It was undoubtedly worth thousands, maybe even millions, and just staring at it made her feel as though she were glimpsing into a luxurious world she didn’t and never would belong in. She wanted to gently decline the deed, feeling as though she did nothing to deserve it, but as if anticipating this sort of response, the agent who escorted her to the place informed her that the fully-furnished house and the plot of land it stood on was meant to be a gift; purchased with the gold of not only the king and queen, but the funds of each and every single freed monster. They had unanimously come to the agreement to band together in a collective effort to provide her a better home than the one she had lived in prior.

 To turn down such a thoughtful gesture after so much preparation had gone into even making it possible, such a thing would have been incomparably rude to do.

 A few months later, and Frisk was still unsure of how they learned of her whereabouts, a dingy old apartment building several towns over located directly in the middle of an unsafe precinct where robberies and other crimes were regularly reported. But someone had discovered her secret, despite her dedicated efforts at dodging their numerous questions concerning the subject.

 There had been a few occasions back then where, when returning from one of her hangouts with her monster friends, Frisk felt a similar sensation to being followed. She never did catch a glance at her pursuer during those times, but she supposed it didn’t really matter – not once did she ever feel as though she were in any danger when sensing the presence of this other person. Quite the opposite, in fact, as utterly insane as she knew it may have sounded.

 Frisk chose not to mention the fact that she may or may not have been dealing with a mysterious stalker to her friends, since she had already worried them enough when they found out where she lived. What followed came countless offers for her to stay the night or even a few days in one of their residences, to which she always attempted to decline, not wanting to impose on her friends. But some of them, like Undyne, Toriel, Muffet, and unpredictably Sans, of all monsters, would not take ‘no’ for an answer. All of them felt as though they could finally put their fears to rest when she stepped out of that building that looked as though it were falling apart at the seams for the last time, and into her safe and cozy new home they had so lovingly furnished for the first.

 Sans had surprisingly been the one to accompany her then, assisting her in gathering up what little belongings she owned to transport them to the house awaiting her. The reason why it had shocked her so much at the time was, the smiley skeleton was well renown as having a laid-back, lax nature; or as Undyne, his brother, and several regulars at Grillby’s would word it – lazy.

 But that day, something about the skeleton she thought she knew was deadly serious. His expression seemed to frequently bounce between anticipation and dread, happily helping her with shoving clothes and other accessories into suitcases while also glancing around the area every few minutes with a chilling glare, as if daring some unseen enemy to reveal themselves to him. Even he had breathed a sigh of relief that day, once the task was done and over with.

 And not long after that, Sans and Papyrus had managed to acquire an abode of their own as well – directly next to hers.

 She had thought that with a vast new world to explore, all the monsters she had met and come to know would have eventually scattered across the globe as soon as the opportunity arose. And some of them did, but not any of her closest friends she had made on her adventure - they had decided to take up residence in this town, not ten miles away from the mountain they were imprisoned within. And even the ones that went elsewhere would eventually wander back on occasion, if only to say ‘hello’.

 It didn’t make much sense to her, but when Frisk finally summoned the nerve to ask, all of them gave her the exact same answer,

 “We just wanted to be close to you.”

 And this claim of theirs must have been true, because when the time came for her to send out the Gyftmas party invitations, every single monster responded with a guarantee in some manner or another that they would be there.

 But could she actually manage to squeeze the entirety of the monster population and then some under one roof, specifically hers?

 Frisk was about to find out.

 Some of them jokingly warned her when they discovered just how long the guest list was supposed to be that she was definitely going to regret this, that a celebration this grand scale was bound to bring the house down in the most literal definition imaginable (thanks, Sans). She held no doubts that the party was going to be chaotic, but she sincerely believed that what was to come would be a chaos of the beautiful sort.

 This being proven to be correct was all that she really wanted for Gyftmas.

 Even after telling them this, they were still going well out of their way to get her some sort of present for the festivity. Frisk believed the lavish house was enough to compensate for every single Gyftmas, birthday, and any other holiday that would come to pass for the remainder of her life, but no, the monsters demonstrated they could be just as determined as she was when it came to expressing their gratitude towards her for everything the human girl had done for them, in and out of the Underground.

 Apparently, Undyne and Mettaton were even going so far as making some sort of competition out of who could give Frisk the best gift, and it was also apparently growing more and more intense between them each day as the date of the party approached. She hoped they didn’t expect her to play the role of judge in this silly contest of theirs, because she couldn’t possibly do that, ever – Frisk was certain that she would love both their gifts with equal enthusiasm. She additionally hoped they hadn’t gone overboard with the holiday shopping in their quest of earning her approval, because the two were well known to be mercilessly competitive and had a history of overspending according to their own friends and relatives.

 Mettaton may be able to flaunt and throw around all the wealth that came from being a sensational star whenever he pleases, but that still doesn’t mean that he should, and Frisk felt that Undyne really needed to start investing her earnings in an emergency fund of some sort, because she’s already almost burned her house to a crisp while cooking a grand total of eight times since finding a place to live on the surface.

 She’s going to need that money when the time eventually comes that Undyne does reduce it down to nothing more than smoking splinters and the very foundation it stands upon in one gigantic fiery explosion, and it was becoming more and more clear to Frisk that the fish woman’s house regularly being engulfed in flames was just one of those inevitable aspects of life that refused to change, in spite of her attempts...

 That’s why after the second time it happened, Frisk jumped for getting the local and friendly fire department’s number on speed dial on both their phones. Undyne and the entire force were practically on a first name basis with each other at this point.

 But Undyne refrained from ever cooking at other people’s houses, even when it was requested of her by some incredibly brave or very foolish SOUL with nothing to lose; she only did so at her own. That’s probably what upset Frisk the most – she was actively aware that her ventures in the culinary world were deadly in dual senses, and yet that didn’t seem to stop her in the slightest when it came to pursuing her passion. Frisk supposed there was something admirable to be found in that, somewhere...

 And while it appeared that Undyne’s skills in the kitchen were getting worse and worse, Papyrus’s were only getting better, even without any comparison needed.

 He improved so much, in fact, that Frisk asked him if he would like to be one of the head chefs in providing catering for her guests at the upcoming party, alongside Grillby, Muffet, and Toriel. He gratefully accepted the position with tears flowing from his sockets like geysers, picking her up in one swift motion and swinging her around and around until it nearly made her stomach turn. He promised her that this would be the best Gyftmas dinner she’s ever had, to which she reminded him that this would be the first Gyftmas dinner she’s ever had. If anything, this only spurred Papyrus to put even more passion into his own culinary studies, so his cuisines would be guaranteed to leave a good impression on her human taste buds.

 Gyftmas, Christmas – though the two holidays were relatively the same in spirit, what Frisk had told him was not lacking in truth...

 Even long before the date of their wintertime gathering, there was still plenty to do. She began her search for gifts almost as soon as the barrier had been broken, but the preparations for the gradually approaching party had commenced as briskly as the day after Halloween. Of course, there was also Thanksgiving to think about then; they came together at that time as well, at Toriel’s house, but the number of those attending had been much smaller than the total count that was to be present at Frisk’s party, since many monsters had chosen to celebrate the occasion with their respective families.

 That was why the sheer amount of replies that she received in respondence to the invitations astounded her as much as it did.

 But when the 25th finally came, Frisk couldn’t have been more pleased by the nothing short of massive turnout.

 The guests began arriving as early as seven in the morning. The event didn’t even officially start until nine, but some of them had showed up early because they wanted an opportunity to talk with their beloved ambassador a bit before the celebration became too crowded and hectic to anymore.

 She had woken up a few minutes after six that morning for some last-minute arrangements when Frisk spotted a familiar round skeletal face in the window of the house immediately across from her own. Hers and Sans’s bedrooms faced one another, the space between them not ten feet apart, and the two had carried out entire conversations from their respective windowsills before – fairly often, in truth.

 Such a conversation occurred on the dawn of that special snowy morning, surprisingly. Frisk would have been willing to bet that she wouldn’t be seeing him around until after the start of the party a few hours later.

 He grinned and tapped on the surface of the frosted and fogged over glass in swift succession with a single phalange before opening his window, silently urging her to do the same with her own. She did so, a gust of cool wintery air flowing into the room, and spoke the first thing that came to mind.

 “You’re up unexpectedly early today.”

 “paps got me up and out of bed as soon as he realized the hours were in the a.m. and the date had changed.” Sans yawned, just barely managing to cover his mouth, then added, “and that was almost a few minutes after midnight, but about a whole gallon of warm milk later, and i got him to go back to sleep. honestly, that was probably the real gyftmas miracle – as beat as paps was, he denied it to the bitter end and tried to fight off the sleepies to his last ‘nyeh’.”

 “That definitely sounds like something he would do.” The mental image of Papyrus suddenly yanking the shorter skeleton off his mattress and dragging Sans behind him down the stairs to the living room in the middle of the night was worth a chuckle, as exhausted as she knew Sans must be right now. “Was he trying to catch a peep at ‘Santa’ in action? Or should I say, ‘Sansta’?”

 “nah. he hasn’t tried to capture santa since we were pretty much babybones.” He gave a sleepy chuckle.

 “...Capture? ...Santa?” She uttered inquisitively with an arched eyebrow, but he didn’t provide her with any more details on that bizarre little response.

 “gyftmas eve is the one night a year that paps makes an honest effort to go to bed early and get some real sleep, ‘cause he’s worried that santa will pass our house up if he doesn’t. but his excitement, his insomnia, and the anxiety over what he thinks will happen if he isn’t sleeping ironically keeps him awake. we go through this every year. i already mentioned the milk, but it took a whole pile and a few hours of bedtime stories to knock him out this one, though.”

 “You’re probably already aware of this, Sans, but... you look really tired.” The dark circles under his sockets were a few shades darker, more prominent than usual, and as she said this, another long, deep yawn escaped his gaping maw. “You know, you could go back to bed and get some sleep yourself and just show up a while later, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t be disappointed with you if you decided to do that, really.”

 “nah, nah. don’t worry about it. i’ll be fine, just fine, kid. the both of us ‘ll be there when we’re supposed to. actually, expect to see us at least half an hour earlier, since you know how paps likes to show up anywhere he goes fashionably ahead of time. my bro’s such a trendsetter... he’s light years ahead of the rest of us.” He waved off her concerns with a grin that appeared far happier and less weary than it probably should, but was unexpectedly followed by a pensive frown.

 Sans grew silent and remained so for several passing moments; so silent that it began to make Frisk feel uncomfortable.

 He always made a point of looking at the person he was speaking to, but he wasn’t doing that now. His attention wasn’t on her anymore – it was on practically everything but her, and that worrying little frown on his face only heightened the sense of concern that was washing over Frisk in waves after seeing it.

 “...Sans? Is something wrong...?” She asked, a twinge of distress discernible in her quiet tone of voice.

 She had to repeat herself twice before he would answer her.

 “it’s just... about the party...” His front teeth gnawed on the bottom of his mouth, seeming only more perturbed as the seconds slowly passed by before another grin, wide and gleeful, almost to the extent of being manic, broke across his skull just as suddenly as the grimace had.

 “i was just thinking about how loooong the drive’s gonna be to get there... it’ll be so long, i might actually get a full nine hours sleep on the way there.” He accomplished getting through the first two sentences with only a few snorts interspersed into his speech, but he was really struggling not to laugh through the second half - and by the tail end of the third sentence, he was failing miserably. “i mean, i think you have the right to live wherever it is you want, but why’d you have to go and move so far off, frisk? do you not want to see your ‘ol pal sansy as often anymore, is that it?”

 “Sans, our houses are literally less than ten feet apart.” She giggled uncontrollably; his laughter was potently contagious.

 “but it feels so far away in my SOUL!” He cried out dramatically, clutching the front of his shirt directly at the area of his chest as he fell to the carpet, on his knees.

 “We’re talking to each other face to face from our windows! How much closer do you want us to be?!”

 “until it’s impossible for us to get any closer.” He replied without a beat, his laughter dying down to a nervous chuckle as a soft blue blush slowly spread across his face.

 “Wh-What...?” She stuttered dumbly.

 “what?” He parroted immediately after; so immediate that Frisk was almost certain that she must have misheard or imagined what had preceded.

 “...Sans, you goob. You really fooled me into thinking there was something horribly wrong! What you just did wasn’t in the Gyftmas spirit, Sans!”

 “ok, ok, yeah, now that i think about it, that really was kinda mean of me.” He scratched the back of his skull with an awkward sheepish smile, at least having the decency to look ashamed of himself. “...but it still made you laugh, though.”

 “...Okay, I will admit that it was actually pretty funny... Especially that whole thing you do where you grossly exaggerate how far apart our houses are, despite us being next-door neighbors and all...” Frisk then made the valiant effort to appear stern in front of him. “But anymore jokes like that one today, and you’ll leave me with no choice but to take away your present privileges.”

 “you... you got me something?” His droopy sockets widened, and the white spheres that served as his pupils enlarged to the extent that they almost looked like twin moons, his reaction all but suggesting that he was truly taken aback by the thought.

 “Of course I did. Undyne may be my bestie, but you’re my bestest buddy.” She stated sincerely, but then smirked, a wicked idea manifesting without any warning. “Prepare yourself, because it’s on it’s way!”

 “you didn’t have to get me anything, frisk...” That’s what he said, but he wasn’t exactly doing an excellent job at hiding his inner giddiness – it almost made her feel bad for what she was about to do. “...wait? you’re giving it to me now?”

 “Yep! Whether you choose to close your eyes or not is up to you.”

 “...‘kay. i’ll keep ‘em closed, since i think that’s what you want me to do. sansy ‘ll play along with the surprise, kiddo.” His sockets shut, but not a second later he cracked one open. “...you better not be about to throw a snowball at my face though, ‘cause that’s a declaration of war where i come from.”

 “It’s not a snowball, so don’t worry.”

 And it really wasn’t a snowball. But he was about to get a face full of something.

 Frisk walked over to her nightstand to grab Sans’s present, unwrapped. She had meant to wrap it along with the rest of his gift, but this one had become misplaced, and thus it escaped getting packaged at the time. It was something small, in both size and value, but she was told by Toriel that Sans would appreciate it nonetheless.

 It was time to test if that claim was true.

 She stood in front of the window, taking in the sight of Sans standing there, his sockets closed and looking as though he were mere seconds away from actually falling asleep in that very spot while standing up. He was definitely nodding off though – it was time for a little wakeup call!

 “Here it comes!” She yelled happily, hurling the object she held in her hand with all her might out the window; it sailed through the chilly air and the snow, crossing the few feet’s distance between them and towards him at top speed.

 Her sudden shout caused his sockets to snap open, just at the exact right moment for whatever it was she had thrown to pelt him directly in the face.

 “buh?!” He nearly spluttered in surprise.

 It took a few more moments, as he was still somewhat paralyzed from the shock of it all, but as soon as he regained his bearings, Sans peeled off the offending object covering his eyes; it had felt soft when it collided with his skull, and he discovered that what struck him was in fact a pair of socks.

 But not just any pair of socks. No, this particular pair was colored a dark gray, and that itself wasn’t too special, but on them he found images of little cheeseburgers scattered across the fabric. Something red was also oozing out from underneath the top buns of the patties, which was obviously meant to be ketchup. They looked just as though Grillby had decided to design clothing themed around his restaurant’s menu on the side, and Sans was loving it.

 “these... these are amazing!”

 Frisk knew that he would like them, but she never once thought that Sans, or anyone for that matter, would be so overjoyed to receive a pair of socks as a gift, especially as a Gyftmas present.

 He was so pleased with them that he began kicking off his slippers posthaste and sat down on his bedroom floor to put them on. It was while he was doing this that Frisk took the opportunity to actually look at him, specifically his body, and even more specifically, his feet.

 They... didn’t look like an actual skeleton’s feet. An actual skeleton as in a human skeleton, that is; which was nothing unusual or out of the ordinary at all for him, she had learned far prior to this point, really. She had been around him and Papyrus for so long now that she didn’t really question what they could do or shouldn’t be able to do as skeletons, but still, these aspects were no less jarring to her when she thought about it for longer than a few seconds.

 His feet looked less skeletal, as contrary as that was, and more like a person’s with all the skin and the meat underneath still attached. The only thing even remotely skeletal about them was the fact that they were made out of bone. She wondered if his hands were also similar in shape. They were always out of sight, since he kept them covered with gloves or mittens or had them shoved in the pockets of his shorts or hoodie, so Frisk had never seen them before.

 He must have caught her in the act of staring, because a few more moments of ogling later and she noticed he was grinning slyly in her direction.

 “getting enough of an eyeful over there?” Sans asked with a wiggle of his eyebone(?), striking what one could consider to be a provocative pose as he slowly pulled the sock up and over his heel, never breaking eye contact with her as he did so.

 “Oh, hush.” Her cheeks were turning a deep, flushed red, and it had nothing to do with the frigid air surrounding and flooding in through the wide-open window.

 “...sweet mother of asgore!” Sans all of a sudden wheezed, startling her before he replied, nearly sobbing in his laughter as he pointed to his leg, “they’re kneesocks!”

 “Kneesocks?!”

 “you didn’t know?!”

 “No!” Frisk insisted, then added embarrassedly, “...I guess I was so absorbed in the print that I didn’t pay attention to what kind they were when I bought them. I’m sorry.”

 “don’t apologize – these are great.” Sans said as he eagerly tugged the other one up the length of his leg up to his patella.

 “Sans the skeleton from Snowdin, you aren’t seriously going to wear those, are you?” She inquired with blatant disbelief evident in her expression and tone.

 “you bet your burger i am. i’m gonna wear them at the party, and i’m patella-ing everyone that’ll listen where i got ‘em from.”

 “Sans, why...?” She half-groaned, half-giggled to herself.

 They shared a few more bad laughs together before a knock at the door interrupted them.

 “sounds like the early birds are already dropping in.” Sans remarked as he leaned out the window, peering down below to see a few monsters waiting at Frisk’s front door. “paps is gonna be disappointed that he wasn’t the first to show up.”

 “Tell him he’ll always come first place in my heart.” Frisk chuckled, already imagining the somewhat pouty expression on the taller skeleton’s face when he saw the other guests had beaten him to the Gyftmas punch, quite literally.

 “heh, he’ll appreciate that. hey, just wanted to let you know, he an’ i got most of the cooking done last night before bed, and he’s finishing up the final touches on his part of the spread right now. it’ll be more than a bit of a pain in the tailbone to carry it all in a few dishes per trip, so...” He lifted a single phalange, the tip of it glowing a bright blue along with his left eye. “...i might have to put in some actual effort to pull this off.”

 “Ohhh...! Sans is busting out the scary cyan magic eye!” She gasped, clapping her hands with delight. “And all for me and the sake of the party! I’m actually gonna see you use some magic!”

 “you act like it’s such a big deal...” He scratched the back of his skull again, turning to the side so hopefully she wouldn’t notice the blush matching the color of his magic blooming in his cheeks.

 Another knock interrupted their talk, much louder and more persistent than prior.

 “...I better go answer that.”

 “‘kay. see ya in a bit, kiddo.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 Just a few hours later, and the party had already gone into full swing. The house was packed with guests at every turn, and it would only grow fuller as the day went on. Frisk fully expected the celebration to continue well into the late hours of the night, and she was more than alright with this.

 She had received plenty of promises from certain higher profile monsters that they would be attending; the presence of Toriel and Asgore hadn’t surprised her in the slightest, despite their busy schedules that didn’t let up even during the holidays. But Mettaton? Frisk was quite honestly astonished when she saw the modelesque robot strut through the front door and directly into her living room wearing a long faux-fur coat and high-heeled snow boots, even though he shouldn’t be able to feel the frigid temperatures outside.

 “Mettaton?!” She openly expressed her shock.

 “The one and only.” He lowered his sunglasses, which were entirely inappropriate for this sort of snowy weather, and winked.

 “I... I didn’t think you would make it.”

 “I wouldn’t miss your little soirée for the world, darling!” He threw up his arms to sweep her into an unprecedented embrace. “Although... it was exceedingly difficult. It’s fortunate that you sent out the invitations in advance as you did, otherwise my fabulous self being present today would have been nothing short of impossible. Being a surface world star is glamorous and all, but... some of the producers I work with really do know how to get my gears grinding!”

 “Well, I really am happy to see you here in person, Mettaton, and not on the television as expected.” She eagerly returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around his cold metallic body. “I know that I’m yours and everybody else’s ambassador, but I still can’t even begin to imagine how taxing your career can be sometimes. But remember that today is all about relaxing and spending time with the ones you love. Get some well-deserved rest for the moment and fill the Mettaton-shaped hole in our Mettaton-shaped hearts.”

 “That’s right... That’s exactly what I came here today to do. To catch up with everyone else and hear what’s happening in their own lives, while mine’s been spent under the spotlight so much lately. I can’t afford to make the same mistake as I did last time...” His head whipped around the room as if searching for something, or rather someone. “Blooky? Will Blooky be arriving soon? Are they even coming?!”

 “Don’t get your circuits in a twist just yet. Blooky’s already here – go look over in the corner of the other living room, where the music player is. I asked them to DJ for me today with the holiday compositions they compiled just for the occasion.”

 Mettaton paused in his dramatics to listen, recognizing with apparent fondness in his features the soft tune that floated through the air well – ‘Ghouliday’, one of the first songs the cousins had wrote together when the two simultaneously became interested in music several years ago.

 “That song of ours... it feels just like home...” He then took off in a sprint into the next room over, his arms waving around almost like limp noodles in a strong wind as he charged towards the ghost with the express purpose of defying all logic and laws of physics to wrap his beloved cousin in a hug. “BLOOKY! I missed you sooooo MUH-HUH-UUUUCH!!!”

 “Waitwaitwaitwait!” She heard Napstablook utter as urgently as their soft voice would allow. “I’m holding punch!”

 There was the sound of a crash, several people screaming and glass breaking, followed by a short beat before Mettaton timidly and uncharacteristically squeaked,

 “...I’ll clean that up!”

 So the party was going great.

 The pile of presents underneath the tree was growing bigger and bigger with each additional guest that attended the Gyftmas gathering. A grand assortment of names were jotted down on the tags, but Frisk probably shouldn’t have been as taken aback as she was to find that a good number of them were addressed to her.

 A scaly hand suddenly clapping over her shoulder brought the girl out of her thoughts and caused her to shriek in alarm.

 “WHOA, hey!” Undyne retracted her hand as if she had been burnt, holding both of them up in a defensive stance. “Didn’t mean to scare ya like that, Frisk. ...You were looking a little spaced out there, so I thought I’d check up on ya.”

 “Sorry for reacting like that. I was just thinking to myself... Looking at all these presents here, and so many of them for me, it made me realize how many friends I have now.”

 “I still can’t believe you’re trying to fit basically the entire Underground under one roof... and YOUR roof! You had to of known that’s a disaster just waiting to happen. And to go ahead and do it anyway despite that, well, that takes some real guts, punk!”

 “Mettaton said that he was going to clean up the mess he made, and I believe him.”

 “Wait, what?” She blinked before letting out a cackle. “You mean the ol’ tin can’s already broke something?! I take it back – you’re either fearless, or just plain NUTS for even trying to pull this off! But hey, no matter how it goes, this is gonna be something for us all to remember and laugh about later!”

 Her wide toothy grin then turned into a deep frown.

 “...Seeing everybody here, with smiles on their faces, just happy to be alive and in each other’s company; it makes me feel kinda bad.”

 “Why?” Frisk inquired, incredulous. “Why would what’s supposed to be the most wonderful day of the year make you feel that way? I mean, I’m sure you have your reasons, but you seemed pretty fired up about today before...”

 “Well, I feel guilty.” Undyne averted her gaze and tugged at her scarf absentmindedly. “Back when I first met you, I hated you and every other human; because I thought you hated us. And then, well, you and I, we ended up becoming besties! But... it’s moments like these, where we’re all together just having a good time here on the surface with you that makes me remember... what a horrible mistake I almost made.”

 “Undyne, it’s all behind us.” Frisk reassured her, reaching up to place her own hand over her towering fishy friend’s shoulder with some struggling before settling on simply patting the sleeve of her arm. “You shouldn’t be thinking about that anymore – especially not today, of all days.”

 “Yeah, you keep saying that, but... sometimes I still feel pretty lousy about it.” She wrapped Frisk into a tight, almost suffocating one-armed hug accompanied by an aggressive noogie. “I couldn’t have been more wrong then! I thought you were gonna destroy us all, and that I needed to protect everybody from you. But the truth was, what I needed to be doing was protecting YOU! You really are just like Papyrus sometimes - too darn NICE for your own good!”

 “Oww! I appreciate the sentiments, but please don’t noogie the human!”

 “See? That sounds JUST LIKE something he would say!”

 “That’s because he did say it before. You know, that one time over the phone?”

 “Oh yeah, he did, didn’t he?” Undyne ceased her relentless grinding of the knuckles against Frisk’s head for the moment to ponder and reminisce. “Ya know, sometimes that whole adventure you had Underground with us feels like it happened ages ago, and other times like it was just last week. Time is funny like that. ...Oh man. I’m starting to sound just like that old coot Gerson!”

 “Stay with us, Undyne! You can’t go slipping away from us just yet!” Frisk teased, laughing at her mortified expression. “You’re still too young for the rocking chair and recollecting of yesteryears!”

 “You’re right! I’ve gotta stop blathering on and on about what happened yesterday and focus on what’s happening TODAY! Make some new memories, YEAH!” A few nearby monsters turned her way, but otherwise her exclamation didn’t receive too much fanfare. “Hey, is Alphys here yet? I want her to open up my Gyftmas present to her ASAP!”

 “No, she hasn’t gotten here just yet, but she did text me a few minutes ago saying she was on her way.” Undyne shuffled and stomped in place impatiently at this. “Oh, oh! You want to know what I got her?”

 “Uh, yeah!” She enthusiastically exclaimed. “...Does it have anything to do with Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, though?”

 “Actually, it does!”

 “Aw, PLEASE don’t tell me we ended up getting her the exact same thing!”

 “What did you get her, Undyne?” Frisk inquired, confident that her friend’s assumption was incorrect, but a sliver of nervousness was still present in her question.

 “Well, you know how most of the anime out there is usually based off of those Japanese books with all the pictures in them that you gotta read backwards to understand anything that’s going on? Uh, I think they’re called mangoes? Manhwas? Maybe it was mandalas? No, wait, that still doesn’t sound right...” Before Frisk could correct her, she had already moved on. “Well anyway, she’s got some DVDs of the anime, but none of the books. So I did a lot of scouting on your human internet and found the whole set. But finding all of them together isn’t what took me so long, no – this set is special. They’re all signed. By the AUTHOR!”

 “Alphys is gonna flip.” The reptilian monster was usually shy and soft-spoken in nature, but when talking about something she loved, Alphys could become momentarily unrestrained and speak freely about her hobbies and passions.

 “That’s EXACTLY what I’m hoping she’ll do! I don’t even know how many hours I spent and how many online shopping websites I had to search through, and let’s not even get into how much money I had to shell out for the set after I FINALLY found it - but seeing her nerd out over something like that, it’ll all be SO worth it. I’d do it again five times and a bunch more if I got that kind of adorable reaction each time!”

 “That’s so cute, it makes my heart hurt!”

 “So, uh, sorry to be the bringer of bad news, Frisk, but... if we really DID get the same thing for her, mine’s GOTTA be the superior of the two. ...There’s no way we both got her a signed set of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie mangolios, did we?”

 “No, fortunately we didn’t get her the same thing.” It was subtle, but the tension in Undyne’s expression eased at that. “Those DVDs of hers you mentioned? Well, I watched the series myself several years ago, and the ones she has aren’t complete. They’re from that old company that went out of business that used to hold the license; and not only did they do a horrendous job with the dubbing, but the episodes are out of order, some of them are even missing, and then the ones that weren’t cut were edited so badly that it’s almost painful to watch.”

 “Really? I watched some of the episodes with Alphys before, and at the time I didn’t really notice anything too weird about ‘em. But now that you’ve told me all this stuff, I gotta say, there’s actually a whole lot of plotholes and a bunch of other things that didn’t make much to any sense in the story.”

 “So this right here...” Frisk plucked a present from the ever-expanding pile, a sparkly tag with the name ‘Alphys’ written in pen stuck to the paper, and waved it around with a smile. “...Is the complete set. All fifty-two uncut episodes in their correct airing order on eight disks, with the additional viewing choice of a brand-new English dub or the original Japanese voice acting with subtitles.”

 “Dang, I just realized... Alphys is gonna be so busy with this stuff we got her, she probably won’t have any time to hang out with either of us anymore!”

 “Well, I can’t say anything about the books, but maybe we could make the viewing of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie a thing at Ladies’ Night from here on out?” Frisk suggested, believing that the rest of the girls might enjoy it; especially since they could actually follow the plot along without much trouble when watching this edition of the series.

 But Undyne didn’t respond to her suggestion. No, the redhead was peering at something behind her, just over Frisk’s shoulder, with a slack-jawed expression. But before Frisk could even begin to ask her what was wrong, a shrill squeal erupted far too close to her ear, forcing her to turn around.

 “Alphys!” Frisk shrieked herself, now knowing exactly why Undyne had seemed so distraught. “How much did you-” It was too late, she realized. “You... you heard everything, didn’t you?”

 “So much for surprises...” Undyne grumbled sourly, crossing her arms.

 However, Undyne’s prickly mood quickly faded when Alphys launched herself at her, flinging her arms around her neck and squeezing with all the appreciation she could convey as she practically screamed her gratitude towards them both.

 “ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOUTHANKYOU...!!!!!” Alphys screeched with delight, her grip around Undyne’s neck becoming tighter and tighter to the point that even one of the strongest monsters in the Underground was having difficulty breathing.

 “Alphie, you’re CHOKING me...!”

 “Oh... OH! Sorry! I’m SO sorry!” She immediately detached herself from the fish lady, somewhat mortified but still giddy, and gave her a chance to regain her breath. “I just... I got so excited that I... I just couldn’t contain myself anymore!”

 “Well, you’re gonna have to contain yourself for a while longer, now!” Undyne huffed, a look of faux scorn gracing her face. “Instead of doing the honorable thing and walking away when you had the chance to, you stood RIGHT THERE and heard everything that you weren’t supposed to; and once again, instead of WALKING AWAY and pretending you didn’t hear ANYTHING, you LET US KNOW you were there by calling attention to yourself with all your adorable squeaking and squealing!”

 “I... I’m so sorry I ruined the surprise...”

 “...I know you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just... I really wanted to WOW you, Alphie. And I’m sure Frisk here did too, what with how much she was hyping up your present from her.” Undyne then pointed a clawed finger at her. “HOWEVER, because the identity of your gifts have been revealed to you too early, you have to WAIT to open them – ONE HOUR for EVERY MINUTE that you spent standing there listening to us!”

 “I stood here for about five minutes...” Alphys decided it was best to be honest with her, to avoid disappointing Undyne any further than she already had.

 “Then you can open them at three.” She huffed in response, then peered down at Frisk, who was giving her a fixed stare accompanied by a tiny frown. “Don’t you give me that look! That’s what my mama made me do whenever I snooped around to see what I was getting for Gyftmas before I was supposed to! Heck, sometimes I screwed up with her so bad that I had to wait for DAYS after Gyftmas had passed! Don’t ask me how she always knew I snuck some peeks of the stash before she could get ‘em all wrapped - moms are just really good at finding out about that kind of stuff.”

 “Aww...” Alphys pouted in a manner not unlike an upset child, and both Undyne and Frisk had to admit – seeing her like that really was precious.

 “It’s just a few hours, Alphie.” Undyne playfully rolled her one good eye and began shoving her good-naturedly towards a group of guests that had gathered around the television. “Let’s go mingle some and then you’ll see the time will pass by before you even know it!”

 Undyne hauled Alphys off in such a rush that Frisk had missed her opportunity to give the finned monster her own gift – she watched the couple for a moment, wondering if she should drop in on their ensuing chatter to deliver it, but it seemed they were having so much fun that she’d hate to interrupt. She supposed that Undyne could open hers later, alongside Alphys’s.

 Shopping for Undyne had been a bit of a stumper, compared to some of the other monsters that she knew. Frisk’s first choice had been a replica sword, but then she recalled their frequent hangouts at her place and remembered that she had plenty of those – the human girl thought for some time that they had burned up in the fire, but Frisk learned shortly after visiting her new home on the surface that she braved the seemingly eternal flames which still engulfed her old house in the Underground and had gone back inside to rescue them. And aside from a few scuff marks, they were essentially in pristine shape.

 Even though she was certain that her anime-obsessed friend would be more than thrilled to receive yet another oversized duplicate sword to add to her collection, Frisk felt that her Gyftmas present needed to be a bit more special. She wracked her brain for days on end, reviewing everything she knew about the powerful fish woman and former captain of the Royal Guard.

 So, after much deliberation, Frisk decided that instead of giving her yet another replica for her to put on display...

 She would get her a real one.

 The only person she had spoken to concerning this idea was Sans (because Papyrus couldn’t keep a secret even for the sake of his own life, and Alphys couldn’t exactly be trusted with this top-secret information either because she became increasingly loose-lipped when excited to a certain extent), who unhesitantly informed her that while Undyne would be ecstatic, going through with it would be a grave mistake on her part.

 Undyne was zealous, yes, and incredibly hot-blooded for a fish lady, but Frisk told him that she trusted her to be responsible with the bladed weapon.

 “a move which will henceforth be known as ‘mistake number two’.” He had rung in with his opinion then.

 But she honestly couldn’t think of anything else that would impress her as much as a genuine steel sword, so at the time Frisk had more or less told Sans to stuff it. She was hoping with all her might that Undyne would prove him wrong – otherwise she’d never hear the end of it from the smug skeleton.

 Frisk was aware that someone who had the ability to summon spears made of magic from thin air would probably possess no real need for a sword, but the practicality of the present wasn’t really all that important in the first place – the only thing that truly mattered in the end was whether Undyne was happy or not with her gift.

 And speaking of Sans, she quite literally bumped into him on her way to the kitchen. It seemed he just then finished putting all the dishes he and Papyrus prepared in their proper places on the various tables she had set up around the living room, because the faint glow of his magic was still visible in his left eye and she caught sight of a fading wisp of blue from his fingertips.

 “‘ey, kiddo. where’s the fire at?” His hands reached out to steady her, their unexpected impact nearly knocking Frisk off her feet.

 “It’s in the kitchen – I thought I’d check up on Grillby. He said there were still a few things left that he needed to involving some additions to the spread and asked to borrow mine so he could finish the job.”

 “paps is really letting this new position as a ‘head chef’ get to his, uh, head.” He sighed, but it was an unmistakably satisfied one. “don’t get me wrong – i couldn’t be happier that he’s done nothing but improve since we’ve been on the surface; tickled to the bone even... but i gotta admit, paps can be kind of a bossy boots when he’s all absorbed in his cooking. he has this tendency to hover over anybody else with him when in the kitchen, and feels the need to input some well-meaning, but unrequested advice. so i hope he isn’t giving grillbz too bad of a time in there.”

 “You told me that everything on the list of dishes he was responsible for was finished. If Papyrus finished everything he was supposed to, then why would he be in the kitchen?”

 “to dispense some of his well-meaning advice.”

 “...Oh. Well, I think Grillby might be able to handle it?” Sans didn’t seem so sure of her words, and neither did she herself honestly. “He seems like the type to work well even under pressure. From what I’ve seen, for someone made of flames, he’s pretty good at keeping a cool head.”

 “yeah, maybe so, but even someone as chill as grillby has got to have an ignition point.” Sans did have a point there, Frisk mentally noted – and while they both knew that the flamesman would never blow up on Papyrus, the likelihood of him becoming tormented by the skeleton’s helpful intentions was quite high. “you said you were going to pop in and check on him? i’ll go with ya – i’ve gotta give grillby his gift anyway, so now’s as good a time as ever, i guess.”

 “What did you get him?” Frisk asked, filled with curiosity.

 “well, it’s not really much of a gyftmas present, but...” He shrugged, seeming somewhat ashamed. “i’m gonna finally pay off my tab with him, with interest. i think he’d probably appreciate that more than anything else i could’ve got him today.”

 “You mean you still haven’t paid off that big bill you racked up in the Underground?” Frisk shook her head, but smiled all the same. “What I have for him isn’t anything material either, but I’m pinning my hopes on the possibility that it’ll be the sort of gift that’ll keep on giving in the long run.”

 “it already sounds a lot better than what i have planned. so, don’t keep me in suspense, kiddo - what’s this spectacular gift of yours that’s supposed to keep on giving all year ‘round? it’s not a one-year membership to the jelly of the month club, is it?”

 “No, and I caught that reference, Sans.” She giggled, and he swore the sound was almost like bells, if only to him. “Some of the monsters, like Grillby, I couldn’t think of anything to give them that I could wrap up in a box. So instead of something physical, I decided to make a present out of an act or service – I’ve made the arrangements for his restaurant to receive a much needed expansion in the near future, since I heard from him and a few other regulars that the building is getting sort of cramped, what with all the new customers he’s drawing in now.”

 “aww, kiddo.” He cooed, “grillby ‘ll probably start crying soot when you drop the news on him. an upsized establishment is the best thing you ever could have thought up to give him. you’ve got me beat in that department - that’s way better than my idea.”

 “Gyftmas isn’t a contest, Sans.” She gently chided him. “And I’m sure that Grillby will be more than happy to collect your overdue payments as a present. I’m willing to bet he most likely never thought he’d see a single piece of the gold that went into your meals, so at least it’s a guarantee you’ll be surprising him.”

 “ouch.” He placed one hand over his ribcage, feigning hurt. “that was cold, frisk. real cold. you wanna know how cold that was? that was so cold, that i could step right through that front door and walk straight into that blizzard going on out there, and it’d still be a whole lot warmer than what you just said to me, your ol’ pal sansy.”

 “i was just teasing you, funnybones.” She lightly slapped his arm, the touch more akin to a light tap as she laughed, “I knew you were always planning on paying him back. You always do. Grillby once told me you never did let him down before when it came to eventually clearing off your tabs, so he didn’t expect you to this time, either.”

 “that grillby... what a guy.” Sans shook his head, almost pityingly.

 When they entered the kitchen, they found Papyrus exactly where Sans expected him to be, standing behind the flamesman and leaning over his shoulder, closely scrutinizing his work as he chattered on and on in incomprehensible culinary jargon. Grillby’s reaction to this was subtle – to the casual observer, he would appear to be nothing but the very essence of calm. However, the slightly erratic flickering of the flames that composed his body made them aware that Grillby was steadily becoming increasingly distressed at the unwanted commentary and being so closely observed. If that alone hadn’t clearly sent the message across, then the near pleading look he gave the two when he took notice of their presence certainly would have.

 “i got this.” The skeleton by Frisk’s side whispered. “‘ey, pap? what’re ya up to in here, slaving away in front of a stuffy hot stove, when there’s a party going on out there?”

 “OH, HELLO BROTHER! AND A MERRY GYFTMAS TO OUR GRACIOUS HOSTESS TODAY, MY BEST HUMAN FRIEND, FRISK!” He greeted them cheerfully, then gestured to Grillby. “I WAS MERELY OFFERING MY VASTLY ENHANCED CULINARY EXPERTISE TO ONE OF OUR OTHER FELLOW CHEFS WHO IS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE!”

 “i can see that you’ve been busy.” Sans stated simply, taking in the fire monster’s haggard appearance which Papyrus seemed to be oblivious to. “but pap, it looks like grillbz is about done here, and some of the peeps attending the skelly-bration have been asking about ya in the past half hour.”

 It wasn’t a lie, either. At least five monsters had flagged him down on his way to the kitchen alone, questioning him on the whereabouts of his brother. Perhaps it was merely curiosity at work, as the brothers were rarely apart from one another for extended intervals, but the fact remained that several guests were expecting the appearance of the great Papyrus.

 Sans wanted to rescue his good pal Grillby from the fate of being subjected to his younger brother’s backseat cooking, but he didn’t want to hurt Papyrus’s confidence or his pride in order to do so.

 It was one of his fatal flaws – Sans showed difficulty in being honest with those he loved whenever something was amiss, so he would lie in order to spare their feelings. He held the uttermost purest of intentions, but Frisk had a premonition of sorts that this habit of his would one day return to bite him hard in the boney posterior, and the end result might not be as humorous as it sounded.

 “UGH. THAT PUN WAS HORRIBLE. JUST... ABOMINABLE!” Papyrus groaned, his disgusted reaction eliciting a snort from Sans. “...YOU SAY THAT THE PARTY GUESTS... ARE REQUESTING MY COMPANY?! WELL...! I’M TERRIBLY SORRY, GRILLBY, I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN TO EXPRESS MY REMORSE, BUT I MUST LEAVE THE REST OF WHAT REMAINS TO BE DONE IN YOUR CAPABLE HANDS!”

 “That’s quite alright, Papyrus.” Grillby’s soft, whispery voice crackled, the relief it displayed only being discernible to the human and the shorter skeleton. “I can finish up the rest of the cooking just fine by myself – you go and enjoy yourself.”

 Sans had cleverly played on the enjoyment Papyrus took out of being the center of several’s attention well – he had no difficulty in carting him out of the room and thus allowing the overstressed fire monster to complete his assigned task in relative peace.

 Before they slipped out of the kitchen, Frisk left an envelope addressed to him on the counter where she was certain he would find it. Inside were papers, the documents detailing the renovations and additions that would be appended to his restaurant, and all that would be required of him in exchange is that he sign his name on the dotted line at the bottom of the last page.

 This is what Frisk murmured to Sans when he inquired over the contents of the mysterious parcel he had noticed she left behind for Grillby to discover.

 “didn’t you want to watch him open it, though?”

 “Yeah, I did, but... I thought that if he really did end up crying over it, then it might fluster him if he did that in front of you or me or Papyrus. This way, he can be as emotional as needed in his own privacy, and Grillby can find me later to talk about it if he wants to after he’s composed himself.”

 “i’m sure he’d appreciate the consideration. pretty much anybody that’s known grillby for long enough is aware that it don’t take much for him to get worked up until he’s shedding soot all over everything. you’d think he’d be the stoic type, someone that isn’t easily moved, but that first impression couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 “I think it’s wonderfully sweet. The world needs more caring and tenderhearted men like him. There are way too many aloof, dismissive, and severely emotionally stunted types out there already.”

 “yeah?” Sans replied, his interest piqued – not that she picked up on anything unusual or out of sorts in his behavior.

 Little did Frisk know, topics such as her preferences in men, specifically monster men, had been frequently occupying his thoughts as of late.

 A spark of faint, barely there attraction had manifested following her befriending and hanging out with his brother. He made a valiant effort in forcing these feelings of his down as deeply as he could shove them, to the very bottom of his protesting SOUL. He tried to convince himself that such a thing between them would never work out by using various methods to psyche himself out of his budding crush.

 She’s a human. She could still be dangerous. Monsters aren’t supposed to feel this way about humans. The other monsters would make fun of you. It will only end in tragedy. You’d put her in danger if anyone found out. She would never feel the same.

 Such excuses was what he relied on to reign in his emerging urges, his desires to pursue a relationship of a romantic nature with her. But the more time he spent with her, the more he heard her laugh that was reminiscent of the chiming of bells at his jokes, his japes, and antics, the more he beheld her smile that shined brighter than the stars he loved so much, the more it became impossible to deny that he had fallen.

 Fallen deeply and hopelessly in love.

 He was constantly torn between handing out hints that pointed towards his sentiments and doing everything within his power to bury them from her sight. He didn’t want her to uncover his blossoming affections, yet he did want her to. Sans had never felt such a terrifying, yet thrilling sensation in his entire life.

 Since he was made aware of his own feelings towards Frisk, there were only two things holding him back from participating in the games of love, presently. The first was the very real prospect that she may not share his feelings. The second, however...

 “Papyrus, before either of you go wandering off anywhere, I need you and Sans to stay put for a moment – I’m going to get your Gyftmas gifts out from under the tree. I hope they haven’t been buried underneath the others up by now...”

 Papyrus nearly squealed with jubilation and delight, gushing over her thoughtfulness as Sans for the second time that day was caught off-guard.

 “you mean the socks weren’t my present?” He questioned, pointing to his legs which were covered up to his patella in tiny burgers and fries.

 “Good gracious, how did I not notice that you were still wearing those things?” Frisk remarked, the second-hand embarrassment almost overwhelming.

 “your guess is as good as mine, ‘cuz you really should of since you’re so short.”

 “Oh hush.” She huffed, scurrying off for a few minutes before returning with two boxes wrapped in brightly colored paper.

 Once the boxes were in their respective hands, both noted that the presents were actually rather heavy in weight. They took the time to tilt their gifts from side to side, gently shaking them in front of her, just to tease Frisk a little before opening them. Sans felt the need to casually stick the bow that was on the box to the side of his skull, for whatever reason – this borderline bizarre action still elicited a laugh out of the girl all the same, much to his inner satisfaction.

 Because that was a part of love – doing stupid and even irrational things just to make the one you loved happy.

 Papyrus tore into his present first, and he couldn’t have been more captivated with what was inside.

 “SANS, LOOK!” He proudly held up a thick book with several tabs sticking out of the pages; it was a book of recipes, to be precise. “‘101 WAYS TO PREPARE PERFECTLY PLEASING PASTA’! EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE EVER WISHED TO LEARN ABOUT SPAGHETTI IS CONTAINED WITHIN THE CONFINES OF THIS BOOK! I CAN AT LAST TOSS OUT THAT OUTDATED COPY WITH ALL THE FADED AND TORN BITS I FOUND IN THE UNDERGROUND’S JUNKYARD!”

 So that explained what was wrong with his spaghetti then, Frisk thought. Chunks of his previous cookbook were missing, and he must have tried to substitute ingredients and wing the rest of the recipe’s steps, with disastrous results.

 ...But that still didn’t quite explain why it wasn’t even remotely edible. Just what had he put inside the sauce?!

 “so i guess that you’ll be telling that old book...” Sans started, the grin on his face spreading further.

 “SANS, DON’T YOU DARE!”

 “pasta-la vista.”

 Papyrus’s entire body gave an almost violent jerk as a strangled wheezing sound escaped his throat – it was a laugh or a chortle of some sort, that much they were sure of, but he had done his best to suppress it.

“SANS... THAT PUN WAS EVEN WORSE THAN THE LAST!”

 “nuh uh. you thought it was hilarious.” Sans calmly contended with a smirk. “don’t even try to deny it, paps. your reaction said more than words ever could.”

 “...I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY OR HOW THAT HAPPENED. I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED IT, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, BUT I STILL LAUGHED ANYWAY!”

 “i know the answer to that – it’s because i’m the pun-niest skeleton that ever lived.”

 “...THAT IS DEBATABLE.” Papyrus shot him an unamused glance. “NOW DON’T BONE-DOGGLE AROUND ANY FURTHER THAN NECESSARY – START UNWRAPPING YOUR OWN PRESENT AND SHOW ME WHAT FRISK GAVE YOU FOR GYFTMAS!”

 “ok, patience, paps. don’t get your tibia in a twist.” He chuckled, tearing off the wrapping paper in one swift motion and gingerly opening the top flaps of the box to reveal... another book, even heftier than the last. He flipped through it, his sockets gradually widening as he viewed its divisions. “it’s... an astronomy book. star maps, pictures and scientific accounts of solar and lunar eclipses, statistics about the planets in the solar system...”

 Questioning whether he appreciated it wasn’t at all necessary – his expression of wonderment spoke for itself. Sans was positively beaming, and the sight of him wholeheartedly enjoying her gift sent a series of warm fuzzies straight to her heart.

 “thanks a bunch, but... you... you didn’t have to get me anything...” He was touched almost beyond words. “this must have cost a literal fortune...”

 “Pish posh. Never you mind about the price.” She waved off his concern, only providing further proof to him that the astronomy book was indeed more expensive than she was letting on. “Seeing the look that’s on your face right now made it worth every cent.”

 “aw geez, kiddo...” A bright blue blush crept onto and coated his cheeks once more - Frisk couldn’t quite say why, but she found the shade and color to be exceedingly cute.

 Papyrus then plucked Frisk from her place off the floor and pressed her firmly against his chest, hugging her tightly as he thanked her. So tightly that breathing was becoming somewhat of a challenge while being subjected to his loving clasp. Sans squeezed his way into the embrace, finding some amount of enjoyment in watching Frisk struggle and squirm before interfering by tugging at the sleeve of the other skeleton’s sweater.

 “bro, i know you mean well, but I think you might be squishing her.”

 “Yes, please don’t squish the human...” She whined pitifully.

 “OH! MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES, FRISK!” He released her posthaste, setting her down with evident care on her own two feet. “I SEEMED TO HAVE FORGOTTEN THAT YOUR FRAGILE HUMAN BODY WASN’T PROPERLY EQUIPPED TO FULLY WITHSTAND THE FORMIDABLE STRENGTH FROM THE POWERFUL PHYSIQUE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

 “I’m fine, Papyrus. Just... give me a moment to catch my breath.”

 She supposed his tendency of putting his all into everything, even something as natural as an embrace, was a trait that came about from his friendship with Undyne. The fish woman was in no definition of the word gentle, so even the simplest of gestures such as handshakes and hugs were elevated to an extreme level.

 “So, I’ll... take that as a sign that you liked your gift?”

 “YES! IMMENSELY SO!” Papyrus answered as he held the cookbook filled with pasta recipes up, almost proudly. “I PROMISE, FRISK, ONCE I PERFECT THIS RECIPE, YOU’LL HAVE THE MOST DELICIOUS PLATE OF SPAGHETTI OF YOUR HUMAN LIFE, YOU CAN COUNT ON THAT!”

 Several months ago, her insides would have twisted up in dread at that. But now, she could actually feel her stomach threatening to growl and the faintest traces of drool beginning to form at her mouth. She was genuinely looking forward to his dish to the point that Frisk wished she could eat it immediately, if not sooner.

 Against her wishes, all these thoughts and talk of spaghetti spurred her stomach to indeed growl, and quite loudly at that. She could feel the air around them still, and both brothers were staring at her with expressions that could only be described as judgmental.

 “you... you didn’t eat breakfast this morning, did you, kiddo?” Sans says after a long pause, almost accusingly.

 “...No.” She admitted, seeing there was no sense in attempting to fib her way out of this one.

 The once denizens of the Underground took food very seriously, if the vast array of cuisines Frisk came across during her journey were any indication. It seemed each monster she met had some sort of signature dish, such as Toriel’s butterscotch cinnamon pies, Sans’s hotdogs (or even more specifically, hotcats), Muffet’s spider doughnuts and cider, and of course Papyrus’s spaghetti.

 Monsters took their mealtimes very seriously, and Frisk had just committed a terrible offense in their eyes, or rather eye sockets.

 “FRISK, WHY WOULDN’T YOU EAT BREAKFAST THIS MORNING?” Papyrus questioned her mournfully, sounding betrayed. “IT’S THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY!!!”

 She had definitely upset him, Frisk realized – he had used three question marks when reprimanding her, something that was usually only reserved for him when he was at his utmost happiest.

 “I... I didn’t have time to.”

 “kiddo, you’re surrounded at every angle by food.” Sans gestured all around them at the tables, every inch of their surfaces covered by dishes filled with delicacies. “that’s, kind of the entire reason why you asked us all to bring something? so nobody would have to go hungry at this party? so, uh, tell me, frisk – what makes you think the host is exempt from that precaution, huh?”

 “It’s not like I chose not to eat anything on purpose, I’ve just been busy.” She feebly defended herself, already aware that she was fighting a hopeless battle. “Making sure everybody’s happy, handing out gifts, that sort of stuff...”

 Sans studied her for a moment, seeming to process her words carefully before craning his neck upwards to look at his brother.

 “...pap? you don’t mind taking up the position of co-host, do you?”

 “WOWIE, WOULD I EVER!”

 “Wh-What?” Frisk blinked twice at them, confused beyond all reason. “What do you mean ‘co-host’?”

 “it means exactly what is sounds like – pap is gonna take over some of your responsibilities so you can relax.”

 “And I don’t get a say in this at all...?”

 “nope.” “NOPE!”

 Their replies were simultaneous, cheerful, and matter of fact, and before she knew it, Frisk felt the bony hand of Sans clamp around her own, tugging her away from the taller skeleton and towards the banquet.

 “But-But I still have presents to deliver to their proper recipients!” She protested, Sans not slowing down in the slightest.

 “YOUR CONCERNS ARE UNFOUNDED, FRISK! THE PRESENTS HAVE TAGS!”

 “they’ve got tags, frisk.” Sans parroted, as if she had somehow not heard him. “don’t worry your pretty head; he’s got this.”

 “Okay, if you say so...” She responded, not sounding convinced at all.

 “trust me on this – papyrus is somebody that feels like he needs to be doing stuff constantly, all the time, and he likes being useful. while i do wish that he would sit down and smell the spaghetti from time to time, this is something good to him, and for him. paps being co-host and handing out presents will give him the chance to mingle, maybe make some friends, even. this’ll be like a whole other present, to him.”

 “All of that does make a lot of sense, now that you’ve explained it...” Frisk conceded defeat to his logic. “...But that doesn’t mean that you have to pull me around just to show me the table spread. I’m the one that set up everything, remember? I know where the food is.”

 “obviously, you don’t, since you haven’t eaten anything yet.” He shot back, and she stuck out her tongue at him childishly – he was just as immature, though, and flicked his own out as well.

 Once they were at the table, he commenced piling the food onto two plates, one for her and one for himself. He then guided his human companion to one of the couches, one where not as many guests were gathered around so there was no danger of someone getting rowdy and spilling their food onto the floor.

 The moment they were seated, before Frisk could even get comfortable, a tiny hotdog wrapped up in a croissant (otherwise known as pigs in a blanket, Sans’s own culinary contribution to the event) was shoved in front of her face, tapping insistently at her lips. She lightly shoved his arm away, but he was persistent.

 “Sans, I know how to eat by myself. You don’t have to feed me!” She squawked as she continued batting at his hands, refusing to allow him to push the tiny sausage past her lips.

 It was mostly out of a sense of paranoia of someone seeing them and getting the wrong idea. The last thing she needed was for someone to begin harassing the skeleton because someone mistakenly believed they were an item. Human-monster couples had become a thing remarkably quickly, but Frisk didn’t believe that Sans would ever be interested in pursuing a relationship with one, much less herself.

 “well, you could of fooled me.” He snipped, and he used her shocked expression at that to his advantage, popping the pig in a blanket into her open mouth. “there, now doesn’t that taste good, baby?”

 “...You’re making me seriously reconsider being a pacifist, Sans.” The girl warned him, but he knew it was all in good fun, wiping away the crumbs at her mouth as she chewed with his thumb before bringing another one to her lips.

 She reached up to snatch the little hotdog from his fingers, causing him to pout exaggeratingly.

 “Well, well, well... aren’t the two of you getting cozy~” A soft and sugary female voice remarked.

 Frisk whirled her head around to find Muffet standing a few feet away, staring at them with the corners of her mouth curved up into a sweet but sly smile.

 Out of all the monsters that could have caught the two of them like this, Muffet was by far not the worst, Frisk thought. She would definitely tease her over this, if not the both of them, but she wasn’t one to spread rumors around.

 Sans, however, seemed to have no sense of shame and all and curled an arm around Frisk’s shoulders, pulling her closer to his side and flashing a grin that matched Muffet’s own. The two monsters shared a knowing gaze that made Frisk feel as though she were missing something here...

 “Hey Muffet, did you come to chat?” She asked somewhat nervously, but the spider lady seemed to be fixed on what she had just witnessed.

 “Oh, and what could be happening here? Did I step into a secret little romantic rendezvous between two lovers?”

 Frisk nearly blanched, and even more distressingly bizarre was, Sans made no moves to deny her outlandish claims. The most he did was wiggle whatever constituted as his eyebrows at Muffet then turning around and doing the same with her. He then picked up another morsel from the platter between his two phalanges in an attempt to feed her again, as if she were some sort of small animal in need of treats.

 “Hmm, that looks fun, dearie. Let me try!” And with that, Muffet plucked one of the pigs in a blanket off of Frisk’s plate herself and poked at the human’s lips with it.

 “Muffet, no, not you too-mphh!” She was quickly silenced by the sausage being shoved into her mouth.

 “Aww, what a sour expression.” Muffet cooed, reaching out to pinch Frisk’s cheek, tugging it around in different directions before releasing her hold.

 Frisk made a solemn vow to herself, then and there – she was never going without eating breakfast again.

 The price was just too much to pay.

 When she turned her head upwards to look at Sans sitting next to her, all smug, she mentally noted that was probably the point of all this. Nevertheless, an important lesson was learned.

 She snagged her plate from the skeleton and scooched as far away from him as possible, all the way to the other side of the couch. Sans, however, just moved as well, sidling right up next to her and slinging his arm around her shoulders once more.

 “The two of you are adorable together~” Muffet giggled, taking her place on the couch at the space directly next to Sans. “I actually didn’t come over here just to torment you, dearie. I wanted to speak with you.”

 “...About what?” Frisk questioned, suspiciously and with a hint of dread.

 “Oh, nothing for you to be wearing such a grim expression. I encountered Papyrus a few minutes ago and he delivered your gift to me on your behalf – I came over here to thank you! An expansion for my bakery, to somehow arrange such a thing was incredibly... generous, of you.”

 “I couldn’t think of a single other thing that might make you more happy.” Frisk confessed. “That was the best I could do.”

 “Dearie, there isn’t a single other thing you could have given me that would have made me happier.” Muffet shook her head, her pigtails swaying from side to side. “I was elated to have that old building and make it into something of my own, you must believe me on that, but it was so very... cramped. And there was only so much I could do with that limited space, and thus only so much I could earn with the few resources I had available.”

 Muffet frowned, her voice dwindling to nothing more than a murmur.

 “...I am aware of what others say of me, I’ve heard their whispers; that I’m stingy and constantly demanding money, and perhaps that is true in a certain sense, but I behave so not for myself, but for all of them, my family.”

 She gestured around the room, and Frisk could make out several members of the Arachnid family in the crowd. She hadn’t met any of them during her adventure underground, but Muffet was more than eager to introduce them to her after they had struck up a proper friendship and began spending an extended time in each other’s company. Frisk always knew that Muffet was so much more than a money-grubbing spider like some spoke of her as being, but now more than ever was Frisk made aware that she was simply a hard-working monster, toiling endlessly to provide for her family.

 “I never once thought such a thing would ever leave my lips, but...” Muffet sighed blissfully, “your gift almost feels too generous. My one and only wish, every year when Gyftmas arrived, was for all of them to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I never truly cared much about seeing the surface, if I’m being honest with myself, but ever since they began occupying it along with the rest of us, that’s all they’ve ever been – happier than I’ve ever seen them. And I have you to thank for it.”

 Muffet was right – Frisk couldn’t exactly speak for how they may have behaved prior to the breaking of the barrier, but each and every member of her family seemed to be in high spirits whenever she saw them. And today, Gyftmas Day, was no different.

 She could spot Irene, the big, buff tarantula, arm wrestling with Undyne, Alphys cheering her on along with several others while Irene was supported by several other spiders and monsters, and it appeared it was going to be a close match. Edgar, a short and rather shy male black widow, was cuddling with his human girlfriend Elizabeth on one of the other couches (fiancé, he frequently insisted, in spite of them only having known each other for a few months at most). Muffet’s father, Daddy Longlegs, who was also one of the higher up employees at Frisk’s office, seemed to be conversing with some other guests over by the punch bowl, the once tall and intimidating monster wearing a gentle smile on his face.

 Ku-Mo, Muffet’s mysterious as much as beautiful relative from Japan, who had fled from the war and thus managed to escape the fate of being imprisoned in the Underground, had arrived with her human husband in tow, the two having been married in secret for several years already and were currently quietly enjoying each other’s company by the crackling fireplace. Julian the peacock spider, a dancer and a designer, was bickering endlessly with Mettaton who he often claimed to be his rival, as per usual during their encounters, but even that was far more lighthearted and less snide than the norm. Spinerette, his timid brown recluse wife, was watching from the sidelines, trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible.

 Charlotte and Peter, the twins of inexplicable origin (Muffet claimed the two just appeared before her several years ago, as if having manifested from thin air; no mother, father, nor any relative of the sort accompanying them, and the already massive arachnid family took both brother and sister in without any further questioning), were supposed to be eating together while watching television, but were spending more time tossing mini marshmallows from their cocoa at one other over little comments the other made more than anything. And Webber, Muffet’s first cousin and a tarantula/daddy longlegs hybrid, was busying himself with keeping the Annoying Dog preoccupied with pets so Papyrus wouldn’t freak out.

 Watching them all like this, along with the others, it was exactly the sort of beautiful chaos that Frisk had wanted out of today.

 Muffet then more or less pushed Sans to the side to envelop Frisk in a loving, six-armed embrace, holding onto her tightly like a lifeline.

 “Seeing them like this, this is all I’ve ever wanted out of this life of mine. ...Everyone had to keep up appearances in the Underground, a jovial one; we all wore a smile, grinning and bearing it, but occasions such as these are the ones where I know for a fact that they’re genuine – real. I sleep so much better in my nest knowing they’re all so much happier this way.”

 She held the human even closer towards her, if that was somehow possible.

 “As far as I’m concerned, Frisk, you’re a member of the arachnid family as well. If you need anything, dearie, anything at all, then please keep in mind that you can come to me for whatever it may be.”

 To say that Frisk felt touched by the sentiment would be the understatement of the century. Muffet had a strong sense of family, but didn’t befriend others easily. She spent so much of her time invested in keeping her own kind content that she simply had none left to spare on friendship, not until she left the Underground. Muffet always wore a mask of mystery, much like her relative Ku-Mo, giggling sweetly and deflecting questions about her own state of happiness in favor of focusing on her family’s.

 She and Sans were very much the same in that regard – perhaps that was why the two were always so amicable towards each other. They had a mutual understanding.

 “Dearie, I know it isn’t much; I’m certain that nothing I could possibly give you could ever properly repay for everything you’ve done for me and my family, but this is my gift to you.”

 Muffet gently placed a medium sized box onto Frisk’s lap, light in weight and the wrapping paper covered in little cupcakes. It was so adorable that she hesitated for a moment to open it, but she could tell that despite her modesty when presenting it, Muffet was eager to see her reaction to its contents.

 Inside the gift box was... a blanket. A silk blanket, and it appeared to be a handmade item. The blanket was as white as the fallen snow covering everything outside, and the fabric almost had its own sparkling quality to it as well. Every detail was intricate, so much so that staring at it for too long almost made Frisk’s head begin to spin. Muffet had told her that this present was nothing to get excited over, but the amount of effort that must have went into the weaving of this blanket warmed her to the very core.

 “Muffet, it’s... it’s... beautiful!” She cried, holding it up for Sans to see, having crawled back up onto the couch sometime since the spider lady shoved him.

 “I’m so happy to hear that, dearie!” And she could tell that what she said was genuine, Muffet’s features relaxing somewhat. “I wanted this one to be my greatest creation yet outside of the bakery business, but... I feel as though the pressure I placed on myself only caused me to make more mistakes. I believe I spent more time retracing my steps and fixing my blunders than actually weaving...”

 “Well, the end result is breathtaking, and I mean that in the best of ways. Thank you so much!” Frisk praised her work as she carefully folded up the blanket, intending to place it on her bed once an opportunity to do so had made itself available.

 “The blanket should be big enough for two. Perfect for cuddling.” Muffet giggled, then turned a pointed glare towards Sans as she stood up. “And Sans, dearie? If I discover that you’ve stained it with ketchup in the future, I’ll strangle you in your sleep~”

 The spider lady then stepped away from the pair, in high spirits like the rest of her kin, leaving the two of them to process her words.

 Frisk simply saw her suggestive behavior towards them as Muffet being, well, Muffet. Sans, meanwhile, must have taken what she said more to heart, because a deep blue blush had covered his entire face, but he was grinning shyly as he took the blanket from her, putting it inside the box it came in and setting it safely to the side before placing her plate of food from earlier onto her lap.

 “eat the rest before it gets too cold to.” He ordered, seeming to have forgotten or at least pretended not to know that monster food didn’t cool down like human food did.

 Nevertheless, she did what was asked of her, otherwise he might decide to feed her again in front of everybody.

 “Sure, he clams up because of something silly that Muffet said, but when it comes to him shoveling food into my mouth, in public, that doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest...” Frisk inwardly remarked, reflecting on the skeleton’s hypocrisy.

 They finished their lunch a while later, idle chatter between the two eventually filling in the awkward silence that the spider lady had left behind. On each occasion it seemed to Sans that Frisk was done when her plate wasn’t empty, he prepared himself to feed her again, giving her plenty of warning beforehand to coax her into eating everything in front of her. He continued to do this until it was cleared, the human girl sending him a grumpy glare once she had, to which he responded by pinching her cheek.

 “Jerkface.” That was the only thing she could think of to call him, as juvenile as she knew it was – he just smiled warmly at her.

 “i love you too.” He immediately replied before turning all the way around, appearing to Frisk as though he suddenly found the wallpaper extremely fascinating.

 “i can’t believe i just said that out loud, joking or not...” He thought, but the inner pride swelling in his ribcage for having finally said those sweet words that so often stirred inside his SOUL whenever he was with her won out over any shame and embarrassment he might have felt.

 This sense of satisfaction didn’t last long, unfortunately for him, and soon his insecurities and fears took over once again.

 Much to his relief, Toriel had made an appearance shortly after his little accidental declaration. Much to his chagrin, however, she came in the company of Flowey, otherwise dubbed by Sans as ‘that awful weed’.

 Flowey looked none too happy to be here as well, and the tiny wool winter beanie the queen had knitted for him which rested on his topmost petal did little to brighten the overall mood he was emanating, much less the matching sweater he also wore or the bright red bow wrapped around his pot.

 Frisk, on the contrary, thought he was adorable.

 “Awww!” She nearly squealed when she caught sight of him, momentarily abandoning Sans to coo over his attire. “Looks like somebody came ready for Gyftmas!”

 “Bah humbug.” He grumbled, but the faint blush that bloomed across his face didn’t escape her eye.

 What also didn’t escape her observation was the object that dangled over the doorway, directly above them. A clever idea came to her.

 “I apologize for his rudeness, my child.” Toriel gave her a sheepish smile. “He’s been in a sour mood all morning, I’m afraid.”

 Frisk supposed that he would be. This was very likely the first Gyftmas he would be taking part in after several long years of being a flower. The last time he had a proper Gyftmas was probably when he was the Underground’s prince, Asriel, and that had been a long, long time ago.

 “Well, if he’s gonna have that kind of attitude, then maybe I’ll just have to keep his present to myself until he learns better manners.” Frisk spoke as if he weren’t right there, but her tone was discernibly playful – he quickly perked up.

 “Well, don’t keep me in suspense!” He demanded as he impatiently wiggled his leaves, “Let me have it!”

 “oh, i’m gonna let him have it, alright...” Sans muttered under his breath, but Frisk elbowed him in the ribs and told him to shush.

 “Okay, but you have to close your eyes first!” The skeleton by her side raised a socket slightly at this, but said nothing, just stared at her inquisitively.

 “...Oh, fine... fine...” Flowey conceded defeat to her whims, closing his cartoonishly beady eyes as instructed.

 “And no peeking either!”

 “I won’t, I won’t!” He insisted complainingly.

 “Okay, now keep them shut...” She giggled, leaning in closer towards him, holding her breath before...

 “Mwah!” She smooched the flower, right on the mouth. “Mistletoe kiss!”

 “BLUH!!!” He sputtered, retreating backwards and staring at her with wild eyes, then began coughing, wheezing, and hacking as though he were dying. “Bleh! Bluh! Ptooey! Ugh...”

 The two women watched his theatrics with an amused glee; meanwhile Sans was sulking a few feet away, mumbling unintelligibly to himself.

 “ungrateful brat. would’a been over the moon if that’d been me...”

 A few more moments of spitting and spluttering passed before Toriel chose to speak up over her son-flower’s dramatic display of disgust.

 “Flowey, dear, you’ve made your point. That’s enough of that.” She chided him gently, placing a gentle paw over his head to give him a comforting pat.

 His mother’s warm and familiar touch calmed him considerably, but he was most definitely still sour over the trick.

 “And just what was that supposed to be?” He grumbled to Frisk, who was still smiling cheekily throughout the whole ordeal.

 “Affection!” She replied cheerfully.

 “Disgusting.”

 “Well, if that’s how your attitude’s gonna be today, then I’m just gonna have to give this-” A small gift box with a bow appeared before his round beady eyes, which she had somehow procured from behind her back despite there being no evidence of it having been there before, “to someone else, then.”

 His demeanor took an almost instantaneous shift; still displeased with her jokes, but far too eager to receive his gift to risk tempting Frisk’s patience with him, just in the unlikely but certainly possible case that she was actually serious about withholding his present privileges.

 Satisfied with his compliance, Frisk then placed the tiny box in front of Flowey, resting on the rim of his pot. Before she could begin to question just how he was going to open it without any fingers, or even hands for that matter, he immediately tore into his gift, quite literally, with his teeth. He ripped off the bow first and foremost and flung it to the side, hitting Sans directly in the face – it couldn’t have possibly hurt him, but he complained nonetheless.

 In just seconds, Flowey had stripped the box of all it’s wrappings and was free to lift the lid to the bare box lying underneath. Inside was... some sort of micro-sized controller, or that’s what it seemed to be to him and his observers.

 “It’s a Flowey-sized game controller!” Frisk explained happily, confirming the identity of his gift. “I asked Alphys to make it for you, since she and I thought it wasn’t really fair that you’re always at a disadvantage whenever we play together.”

 He stared down at the controller for the longest, then lifted it into his leaves with apparent wonder, taking a few moments to fiddle with the various buttons and other parts installed into it’s design. After a few seconds, a wide smile crossed his face – not one of his cruel, deranged ones, but a genuinely pleased and pleasant smile.

 And that was all the thanks Frisk could have ever asked from the prince turned sentient plant.

 Unfortunately, her friend Sans didn’t share the same thoughts.

 “i didn’t hear a ‘thank you’...” He all but grumbled, both of his arms crossed like a disappointed parent.

 “I’ll say it after I wipe the floor with you in Smash.” Flowey spoke matter-of-factly with a smug and satisfied smirk.

 A dark shadow crossed his face, and the skeleton suddenly leaned towards him to whisper something, “...yoshi committed tax fraud.”

 ...and that was when Frisk and Toriel knew they had to step in before this escalated to an incident.

 “HE DID NOT! STOP SPREADING YOUR LIES, SKELETON!!!” The buttercup more or less shrieked, struggling to free himself from his pot as Toriel quickly stepped several paces backwards.

 “I’ll talk to you later, Toriel.” Frisk said swiftly, wrapping her arms around Sans’s middle and dragging him away before he could make the situation between him and Flowey worse than it already was.

 “Can you go one day, one day without being a colossal butt?” She asked, already knowing the answer before he even opened his stupid mouth.

 “nope.”

 “See, I knew you were going to say that.” She sighed, more to herself than to him. “I didn’t even get the chance to give Toriel her gift, and all because you couldn’t play nice with Flowey for more than two seconds.”

 “sure, blame your bestest pal, sansy.” His tone remained jovial though, despite the blatant accusation that was also present. “here, just gimme the gift and i’ll get pap to deliver it. no sweat.”

 “But I wanted to see her face when she opened it...” Frisk whined, gazing down at the tiny box in her hand – inside was a snail shell pendant, the fragile mollusk casing cast in a layer of genuine rose gold on a matching delicate chain. “...And it’s all your fault.”

 “ok, ok... even though you’re being all cute and pouty about it, i can tell that you’re really upset with me.” He snatched the box from her hand before she could react, handing it off to Papyrus with just as much speed before turning back to her. “so, let me make it up to you. c’mon, put on your coat and boots and let’s head outside.”

 “Outside...?” She parroted, staring at the skeleton as though he had just spontaneously grown a second head. “Outside, as in, outside with all of that snow?”

 “hey, the weather’s calmed down a bunch since we’ve been here. see? it’s just fluttering down, completely harmless. so going out there now would be more like standing under a shower of white confetti.”

 He did have a point, Frisk acknowledged when she glanced out the window for herself. Aside from that, Sans seemed to be really eager about something, and while the probability of it being over a dumb, not to mention juvenile prank was extremely high, she enjoyed seeing him happy.

 So, a few minutes later, the human girl had donned her winter apparel and headed out of the house with him, quietly leaving the party without a word to make their way into her frosted over backyard garden.

 The pair sat on a bench in the middle of the area, directly in front of the frozen pond. Frisk had once pondered over purchasing some koi for it, but now she was glad she hadn’t. Just what does one do with the fish when winter came, anyway?

 “Okay, Sans. I can tell you’re giddy, so don’t even try denying it – don’t keep me in suspense, now.”

 “impatient, much?” He chuckled, but there was a noticeable bead of sweat trailing down his skull despite the surrounding temperature, and it seemed as though he were concealing something from her sight from within the pocket of his hoodie.

 He might have been able to hide the last thing from her, if only his hand hadn’t been fidgeting so much. It appeared that he was fumbling with the object, nervously running and drumming his phalanges over it every few seconds as if to ensure that it was still there. She had quite honestly never seen him like this, and it was both concerning to her, yet simultaneously fascinating.

 “here we go, moment of truth.” He spoke after a long pause, almost more to himself than to her. “hold out your hand.”

 At witnessing her hesitance, he assured her. “this isn’t some prank. i promise.”

 And at his usage of the ‘p’ word – promise, any doubts she may have previously been holding onto had instantly been vanquished and Frisk readily held out her hand, waiting. After a moment more, a small box was then placed into her open palm.

 “merry gyftmas, frisk...” Was all he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and could even be described as sweet.

 She glanced over the box, surveying its size.

 “...Is it a tiny whoopie cushion?”

 “nooooo...” Sans snorted, shaking his head. “if you want to know what’s inside so bad, then why not just... open it?”

 Deciding that she’d teased him for long enough, Frisk giggled softly, and gingerly lifted the lid to the box.

 To see the contents of the box, she had to push aside some tissue paper concealing the identity of her gift, but once this was done, what was revealed to her was some sort of clear ball, a bit bigger than the larger marbles one would sometimes find in a set of the glass toys. And visible within the ball was a small flower. Not a faux flower made of silk or some other fabric, but a real one that had been preserved in resin, its color a striking bright blue, so radiant it was almost glowing, no, it was glowing...

 It was an echo flower.

 Undoubtedly the tiniest echo flower she had ever laid eyes on.

 She gingerly lifted the preserved echo flower from its box, discovering a long silver chain was attached to it.

 Sans had gotten her a necklace. She never, not once would have ever expected him to present her with jewelry – he just didn’t seem like that sort of guy.

 That wasn’t to say that he was cheap with his gifts, no, far from it, in fact. But this gesture went so beyond the unexpected that Frisk was left speechless. She needed to say something, and soon, otherwise Sans will believe that he had failed in some shape or form when the reality was, this just may be one of the most precious items she had ever received.

 “Sans... it’s not really something I condone, picking favorites, I mean, but...” She smiled, the sort of one that always sent the skeleton monster’s SOUL spinning, and held up the pendant with pride. “This is, without a doubt, the best thing I’ve received today. It’s beautiful.”

 “aww... you’re just saying that.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

 “I am not!” She insisted, standing up. “And I’m going to put it on. Right now!”

 “here, let me.” He immediately leapt to his own feet and took the necklace from her grasp, unfastening the chain before looping it around her neck.

 Both of his arms were wrapped around her as he fumbled with the clasp, struggling to refasten the pendant. At least, that was what he led Frisk to believe. Even in their current position, he could have easily secured the two ends of the chain, if he so wished. But that wasn’t what he wished, so he didn’t – not yet.

 To any passerby that may have witnessed the two, it would appear as though they were an embracing couple, and that’s precisely what Sans wanted to believe they were, even if only for this moment in time. He was too much of a coward, too filled with insecurity and doubt to hold her so tenderly against him in a more direct manner.

 So, he would prolong this moment for as long as possible, or as long as Frisk would allow him to.

 “hehe... silly thing just won’t... it’s like my phalanges are coated in butter.” He pretended to struggle with the two ends of the necklace’s chain once more. “just give me a few more seconds, frisk.”

 She missed the near pleading tone present in the last line that he spoke.

 “Maybe this would have been easier if you stood behind me instead...?” She suggested, raising an eyebrow at him, not that he could see it – his head was resting on her shoulder so he could see what he was doing with the chain’s clasp.

 “maybe, but i’ve got this.” He fumbled with it for a few seconds longer, then finally put a silent end to the charade, thus ending their impromptu embrace.

 He took a step back and took in the sight of his handiwork – the echo flower pendant rested directly over her heart and SOUL, just where he wanted it to be.

 “there’s something special about that echo flower, though. it isn’t just there to look pretty.” A fierce blue blush was slowly creeping and spreading up and across his skull. “you remember what they’re famous for, right? give it a little tap. might need two or three to work, but give it a try.”

 “Sans... am I gonna hear the sound of one of your whoopie cushions if I do?”

 “do i really seem like the sort of weirdo that would do that?” He inquired, and honestly, not only was it exactly something that he might do, it sounded like a hilarious idea, but he wasn’t about to ruin such a sentimental gesture with such a cheap prank.

 “...Yes.”

 “it’s not another whoopie cushion prank, frisk.” Then he quickly added, with a strong sense of sincerity in his voice. “it’s not any kind of prank at all.”

 Satisfied with his reply, she did as he previously instructed and gave the pendant a few short and swift taps, then waited.

 The flower, despite being trapped inside the glass, glowed just a bit brighter, then...

 “take care of yourself, frisk... because someone really cares about you...”

 She recognized and remembered those words well. She had heard them before, after all, towards the end of her journey in the Underground. He had spoken those very same words to her in New Home’s Judgement Hall, but there were two stark differences when comparing the sentence from then and now, one of them obviously being the use of her name, as he nor any other monster bore knowledge of the final fallen human’s name.

 However, the intonation of the familiar phrase had changed as well – it was quieter, softer, fonder than when he said it in the past.

 “...you’ve done so much for us, frisk.” Sans spoke after a meaningful pause. “...and you’re still doing things for us. you... you really care about us monsters. it’s undeniable. you’ve even accomplished the impossible – the barrier trapping us underground broke, and i know you had something to do with it, even if i’m still not completely sure how it was possible, or if the specifics are even really important now.”

 He sat back down on the bench, patting the spot next to him and urging her to do the same.

 “you just keep on making things better, turning our most insane of fantasies into reality in the present when a whole lot of us back then were so hopeless to the point that some of us were seriously considering... giving up. i just... i think about everything that you’ve done for us, every single day, sometimes even all day, ever since i met you, and, well... i just started to wonder; do you know how much you’re cared for?”

 He let out a soft chuckle, closing his sockets and throwing all his inhibitions to the side.

 “i know the others are grateful, but i still can’t speak for any of them. i’m just sans the skeleton, after all. but... if the question being asked is, ‘does sans the skeleton care about frisk the human, our ambassador, our savior?’ then the answer is, ‘yeah, he does’. frisk, when i said ‘someone really cares about you’, that someone was supposed to be me. i care about you. a whole lot. i guess you could even say i care a skele-ton. ...i’m just sorry it took me so long to say it, but that’s how i really feel. i just wanted you to know that.”

 When he finally mustered the courage to face Frisk again, he was flustered to find her sniffling, nearly sobbing into her mittens.

 “...i’m sorry. all that was really stupid, wasn’t it?” Sans somehow felt that her reaction was negative, and that it was his fault.

 “No. No, no, no, no. No...” She choked out, but when she lifted the cloth-clad hand away from her mouth, he spotted a shaky smile on her lips. “That... That was... just so... I just... I don’t know what to say... Just give me a few minutes, I’m sorry...”

 She managed to compose herself quickly enough, Sans patting her on the back and still feeling lousy for making her cry. Once all of her quaking and hiccupping had ceased, she gave the skeleton a look that he recognized as determined.

 “Sans, I have one last gift for you.”

 “one more?” He blinked owlishly. “frisk, you’re... you’re really spoiling me here.”

 “This has been something I’ve been meaning to give you for a while, now. I just wasn’t sure when, or if it was even conceivable at all, but...”

 “frisk, you aren’t making any sense.”

 “Just... wait here. I’ll be right back.”

 She didn’t return to the house like he thought she would. No, she stepped into the little shed about ten feet away from the bench, then returned a few seconds later holding a white package with a bright red ribbon resting on top. She gently placed the present into his waiting lap, then sat next to him again with a long, almost weary sigh.

 “Open it.” She demanded, throwing Sans slightly off guard with how uncharacteristic it was of her to do so.

 But Sans still felt the need to mess with her a little before he complied.

 “is iiiiiiit...” He tilted the box left to right, then right to left, listening for any shifting noises inside. “...a pair of green shorts with purple-flower print?!”

 “...You want a pair of Patrick Star’s trunks?”

 “hey, i’d wear ‘em.”

 “I have no doubt that you would.” She eyed those burger-covered monstrosities called kneesocks still covering his legs – Frisk almost couldn’t believe that he wore them to the party and was still wearing them; almost...

 “okay, that’s enough fooling around.” He unraveled the ribbon with one swift tug, the lid to the box gone in the blink of an eye.

 Sans peered inside the blackness of the box...

 Reset...?

 Those yellow letters stared back at him, that word and the sensation it brought, the thing he had learned to expect and fear through the horrific experience of being trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of mercy and violence by a being untouchable by time, was right before his very eye sockets.

 His head whipped up to face Frisk, his grin gone and his expression eerily blank.

 “It’s yours now.”

 It took him ages to respond.

 “.........wh-what?”

 “It’s yours now. The RESET button? It’s yours.”

 “...why did you think this would mean anything to me?” He spoke softly, sockets narrowing down to slits. “how did you know this would mean anything to me?”

 “I knew giving you this would open up an endless plethora of questions...” Frisk sighed to herself resignedly. “Here’s the short answer: the previous owner told me.”

 “the... previous... owner...” He repeated those words to himself, yet he still didn’t seem to understand them – his mind was fading to white.

 “I had a suspicion, for a long while now, that this meant something to you. That you were... more aware than you let on at times. And he- they, confirmed it for me. This button... it’s caused you a lot of trauma and heartache, even if you can’t remember all of it. And perhaps that’s for the best, really. I don’t know everything myself, but... I’ve heard enough, and my imagination is more than enough to fill in the rest of the story for me, even if I don’t want it too.”

 “papyrus... he... he died.” He whispered brokenly, holding his skull in his hands as he hunched forward. “over and over and over again. i can’t remember how or why, but i just know that he did. he shouldn’t be here now, a lot of us shouldn’t be here now, i probably shouldn’t be here now, alive, but i am. we all are...”

 “Sans, there’s nothing in the world I can say or do to produce any proof that what I’m saying is the truth and force you to believe me, but I never hurt anyone. The damage was already done by the time I came along.”

 “then who did it, huh? who killed my brother and everyone else?” Sans nearly spat, causing Frisk to flinch – what she didn’t know was, his spite wasn’t directed towards her at all; he was suspicious, yes, but...

 “I... I can’t say. Because I made a promise that I wouldn’t. But... this person, they’re very sorry for what they did in the past now, in the present. They want to make amends, to atone, but don’t know how or even if such a thing could ever be possible. Once again, I have no proof that what I’m saying is the truth, but this, it was our idea. They agreed to it, Sans, that it was only fair for you, the one most affected by this, to be the one to gain ownership of it – the RESET button.”

 “............”

 “I’ll answer any questions that you may have, about the past timelines, to the best of my abilities. Just as long as they’re not about the previous owner. But I never hurt anyone, Sans.”

 “......I know that.” He whispered.

 “You do?” She replied, deadpan.

 “i do. you don’t have to explain anything to me, frisk. i believe you.”

 She had expected him to fire off at least a million questions a millisecond, to be subjected to an interrogation, maybe even a trial by fire (with Grillby serving as the fire), or something, but not... whatever this was.

 Just... quiet acceptance that her word was the truth.

 “look... this other person, the one that had the reset button before you, i already knew about ‘em before, frisk. it’s true that when i first met you, i thought you had something to do with the resets, and i was sorta right, but not in the way i first thought. that’s why... that’s why, sometimes, i wasn’t as helpful as i could have been, not as kind as i should’ve been. the resentment that i felt for something that was beyond my control but in someone else’s, there were occasions where i took it out on you. i couldn’t understand how you could just, hurt all of us like that, and then go right back to being friends with us, like nothing ever happened, reset or not.”

 One of Sans’s skeletal hands reached up to cup her cheek, surprising her.

 “but then the more time i spent with you, i realized that some things just didn’t add up. and now i know why – you never did hurt us. i was blaming you for something that was never your fault in the first place.”

 “But you’re wrong about that, Sans – I did hurt you. I did use the RESET button. I never did hurt anyone in any of the timelines, but... you have to understand, Sans, it took me several tries to reach this ending.”

 “that doesn’t matter now.” To Frisk’s immense shock, he actually smiled, not grinned, but smiled. “whatever you may or may not have done in the past, you’ve more than made up for it with everything you’ve done in this timeline.” He patted the side of the box containing the thing he once dreaded and loathed “...including this right here.”

 “It’s your power now, Sans. At first, I considered destroying it and putting the pieces in the box as your gift. ...But then I thought that wasn’t fair to you, either. So it’s all up to you from this point onward. The decision of whether or not there’ll ever be another RESET rests all on your shoulders, because I’m satisfied with how everything’s turned out. Everyone’s happy now, and that’s all that ever mattered to me in the first place, alongside staying alive. I’m so sorry if my methods of achieving this result put you through any turmoil, though.”

 “frisk, i understand and forgive you, but... this other person, though. they may be sorry, but you also have to understand that i can’t forgive them. not unless they apologize to my face for everything they put me, paps, and the others through – even if i am the only one that has any memory left, no matter how small it is, and can comprehend just what happened then.”

 “They want to apologize to you, Sans. Desperately. They’re just... afraid to.”

 “well, tell ‘em i’m ready to listen whenever they’re ready to start talking.”

 “I’ll pass that on, Sans. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but you will get an apology sooner or later.”

 “frisk, i...” He spoke after another long moment of stillness between them, clutching the box tightly. “i just... you don’t even know how much this means to me...”

 “You’re right. I don’t know, and maybe I never will, but... I can imagine. Imaging how much suffering you went through. And I won’t force you to talk about your experience, but if you ever want to, I’m here. I’ll listen.”

 That’s when whatever was left of Sans’s stoic façade faded. Frisk held out her arms, anticipating such a reaction for the last few moments, and he immediately flung himself into her hold. He sobbed into her shoulder, every single emotion he had been repressing since he came to the conclusion that he was enclosed in a vicious cycle spanning across time-space was released. She was simultaneously the first and the last person Sans ever wanted to see him like this.

 Frisk didn’t judge him for his outburst, no, she never would. His human was far too kind for that. She simply held him while he cried, stroking the back of his skull and patiently waited for the flow of tears to ebb, not caring in the slightest if they soaked her sweater. Several minutes passed like this, perhaps even hours, but Frisk never gave any indication that she wished to move. Eventually though, Sans did compose himself.

 “oh... ohhhh gosh...” His words possessed a slight slur. “that was so embarrassing...”

 “No, it wasn’t. You held all of that in for far too long.”

 “um, speaking of holding things in, frisk...” He began, but much to his surprise, Frisk just huffed.

 “Really, Sans? You’re going to make a fart joke after all this?”

 “really, frisk?” He mocked, actually feeling somewhat offended. “is that all i am to you? a bag of misery borne of time-space-related trauma, barely together bones, and ill-timed fart jokes?”

 “...Pretty much, yeah.” She replied after a beat, but her tone and expression clearly conveyed that she was joking. “In all seriousness, though, what was it that you wanted to say?”

 “well... this is something that i’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, but didn’t, because, well... i thought there was no point in it since i thought i didn’t have a future. but, uh, now that i know i do, there’s, um, literally nothing stopping me now, except for myself, that is. i...” He took a deep, deep breath, then sputtered all at once, “ohgoshimactuallydoingthiswaitnoicantdothisohmygo-”

 “Sans, don’t push yourself! It’s okay! Nobody’s forcing you to say anything!” Frisk almost panicked as she watched him choke and hyperventilate.

 “no, frisk; this is something i’ve gotta do!” He insisted, hands fluttering over his ribcage and spasming in different directions – if she didn’t know any better, the girl would say he was doing a killer impression of Burgerpants...

 Before she was forced to listen to Sans make any more chicken noises, the sound of what could only be described as peacocks screaming filled the air, along with the distinct crash of what was unmistakably the sound of a window shattering. The ‘peacocks’ were Mettaton and Julian screeching, and when Frisk turned her head in the direction of her house, she saw one long leg sticking out of the snow surrounded by a ring of glass.

 “Frisk, darling! I’m SO, SO, SORRYYYYYYY!!!” The robot nearly wailed. “I’ll pay for the damages; I promise I will!”

 “No, I’ll pay for the window! Agreeing to engage this fool in a dance contest was my idiotic idea in the first place!” Julian immediately added after, causing the two to squabble over who was more remorseful and who would get to repay their ambassador.

 “Sans, this is gonna have to wait until later. I have to deal with this, apparently.” Frisk patted his shoulder then offered him a hand. “You coming?”

 “nah, i think i’ll stay out here for a little while longer. maybe use some magic on these dark circles under my sockets, you know, so nobody knows i was bawling.”

 “Okay, but if you’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m coming back out to check on you.” Yet another crash, followed by several more screams permeated the once quiet winter air. She groaned, then gave her echo flower pendant a few flicks to trigger the message Sans had recorded. “I know they care too, but I wish they cared like you do. You never break any windows.”

 “just because i haven’t doesn’t mean i won’t.” He grinned.

 Frisk narrowed her eyes, causing him to snort at her expression.

 “...Take some time to think about what you just said, with the screams of those two flamboyant idiots in there as your soundtrack.”

 She stomped off towards the house, and as Sans watched her retreating figure, despite the cold around him, he was left with a feeling of warmth, contentment. His SOUL felt light and fluttery, fluffy as the falling snow.

 He held the box closer towards himself, its contents something he once hated, but now loved – because it was given to him by the human he loved...

 Sans felt another round of sniffles begin, but now he was crying for an entirely different reason – he felt happy.

“if i didn’t love her before... stars, i sure do now.”

#franstastic writes #frans #sans x frisk #undertale #sans #frisk #papyrus #toriel #flowey #undyne #alphys #mettaton #napstablook #muffet #the arachnid family #fransweek