#background spicyhoney

[keelywolfe]

The Bird in the Hand Shouldn't Punch the Gift Horse in the Mouth (baon)

Summary: All Sans wanted was lunch and instead he got the one thing he wasn't looking for: effort. Good thing Red is worth it.

Tags: Kustard, Domestic, Established Relationship, Sans/Underfell Sans, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Background Spicyhoney, 

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it here!

All things considered, it was a pretty nice day on the surface world and Sans was sitting outside, working on what was likely his most important decision of the day.

Namely, trying to figure out what he was gonna do about lunch.

When they built the Embassy, it was designed with a large courtyard in the center, an overflowing garden space and lots of pathways and benches. Thanks to Asgore there was always something out there blooming, even in the dead of winter, and no one should ever underestimate the gardening skills of a Boss monster who suddenly had access to a decent fertilizer.

This year the new guy running the cafeteria came up with a plan that on nice days, there would be a food cart set up for anyone who wanted to eat out in the sunshine. For a buncha monsters who’d never even seen the rays a few years ago, much less had a chance to work on their tans, it was a popular lunchtime choice.

So popular that the line was entirely too fucking long and that meant Sans’s two favorite pastimes, laziness and food, were at war with each other. Eh, maybe more like a mild skirmish than a war, closer to a slap fight between two prom queens who’d worn the same dress.

Problem was, if a guy, say, a skeleton guy with impeccable fashion sense and a great sense of humor wanted some of the goodies, waiting in line was a requirement. If you missed out on the queue, you were stuck with whatever leftovers were lingering at the bottom of the bag. That was usually where the health food options hung out with vegetables and sadness; celery was no substitute when a guy was looking for deep fat fry.

Waiting in line vs tasty goodness, it was a dilemma and Sans was sitting on his regular bench as he contemplated the equation. Energy out (waiting in line) vs energy in (delish food) and he was so deep in mathsy logic that he didn’t even notice Red making his creeper way over.

Having a grease-stained paper tray shoved into his lap with a terse, “here,” was one way to derail his thought process. Sans grabbed it automatically before it could tumble down to the ground and raise the cholesterol of the local wildlife.

He looked down at the unexpected gift to see a tray of fries, but wait, not just any fries, fries from Louie's, one of the local extra-greasy spoons. The burgers there were pretty good but the fries, now those were a legit orgasmic experience, and these didn’t look like an exception to the rule. Still so fresh the heat was soaking through both the thin carboard and Sans’s shorts, the ketchup so recently applied it hadn't had time to soak in and make 'em soggy.

They looked fucking delicious, but Sans was always a little wary of unexpected gifts, especially ones that appeared from a certain red-eyed, shark-toothed genie.

Thing was, Louie's was halfway across town, further than either of them could easily, or even with fanatical difficulty, shortcut. Which meant Red was either involved in some sort of bribe/blackmailing incident or he’d managed to break several laws of physics, both of which were a lot of effort for him to put out before lunch.

Hm.

Sans picked up a fry with the same caution as he might disable a greasy bomb, studied the layer of ketchup intently, noting the sprinkle of salt. He ate it and it crunched lightly, gloriously, between his teeth, the golden crust bathed in fatty deliciousness the perfect vessel to contain the soft, mealy innards.

All in all, good shit. Well worth being poisoned if that were on the table.

Now that Sans had accepted his fate, he munched his way through the fries agreeably, ignoring Red when he heaved himself up to sit next to him on the bench. Or at least pretending to ignore him since actually doing it was a fast track to getting behind in the game. No tray of his own, interesting; Red wasn’t actually much of a fry fan, he preferred chili dogs. Sans didn’t have an opinion on Louie’s contribution to that genre, but Red always ordered ‘em there without complaint so they couldn’t be too bad.

What he did have in his possession was a coffee cup and instead of drinking from it, he set it next to Sans’s hip in silent, pointed communication.

Message received. Sans picked up the cup between wolfing down his unexpected and dubiously welcome lunch, and took a wary sip. On his tongue was not the burnt undernotes that was always in Louie’s coffee despite it being brewed almost constantly, a taste that lingered in the mouth hours later, even if a guy dispelled his tongue. No, this was pitch-black nitro blend that was only available in-house at the Beanery on Tuesdays.

Today was Friday. Hm. Another confusing clue in his unanticipated afternoon mystery. If any meddling kids showed up with a big-ass dog, Sans was heading back down to his office.

He was mostly done with his fries when another Monster approached them. Mandy worked upstairs in the administration offices doing fuck only knew what. She was a pretty little bird monster with a colorful crest on her head that popped up whenever she got enthusiastic.

Sans knew this because her enthusiasm extended to a reality TV show called ‘Romance Island Retreat’ and he knew that because she’d seen the button on his hoodie last week for Team Veronica and figured he was a fan, too.

Not that he’d ever seen the damn show, the pin was actually from the Archie’s comic books and he’d gotten it free last time he’d stopped to pick up his monthly stash at the local store, pinned it on without thinking much about it. But he’d never been one to piss on anyone else’s Wheaties, unlike other people who seemed to enjoy it, and he’d let her ramble on about it, nodding in all the right places and injecting predictable bullshit in at appropriate times. Wasn’t too hard, because OMG can you BELIEVE he did that? What an asshole move, right, and-and-and-

It'd been funny enough that he’d read up on the wiki about the show and they’d chatted a couple times since about it. Pierce was an asshole, but he really did hope Veronica made the final cut so he didn’t need to get a new pin.

There’d been a new episode last night and Mandy was probably filled to bursting about it, ready to go over it scene by scene over a little falafel and fries. And here was Red in her seat, studiously not looking at her as she hovered uncertainly by the bench with her lunch tray in wing.

Well, now. This was interesting.

Sans wasn’t much for puzzles, that was Paps’s schtick, but he damn well knew how to slide tab A into slot B. And out and in and out and in, but that wasn’t exactly work-safe, now was it.

Her excitement about last night’s totally-not-at-all scripted emotional rollercoaster didn’t seem able to stand up to Red’s menacing aura and she’d already visibly decided to sit somewhere else when Red said, a touch too loudly, "fuck off."

It would take a hardy soul indeed to make any sort of argument around Red’s version of logic and Mandy promptly fucked off, heading over to the benches on the other side of the oversized peonies bobbing in the breeze.

Sans licked the ketchup off a fry before eating it in two quick bites. "that was rude," he said mildly.

Red grunted. "that was barely on th' rude meter, you wanna see rude, i can give you a fuckin' show."

Yeah, from the side glances the other Monsters were giving them, that was exactly what they were hoping for. Not a single one of them made for the doors, all the assholes who worked here must’ve bought their survival instincts at the same store where Stretch shopped. Sans kept his voice low and even. "save it for broadway. what you can do is apologize."

Red looked at him like he'd suggested an all-night threeway with Jabba the Hut, with that shiny gold robot along to narrate.

Sans only serenely sipped his coffee, heh, say that three times fast. "unless you're looking to spend tonight on edge and stretch's sofa? 'cause we can arrange that, don't even need to make a reservation.”

It took years of practice to be able to look without looking at the skill level Sans had. Actual effort had been put into it and it was oh, so worth it for a glimpse of the seething outrage that practically seeped from Red’s expression.

Might as well raise the stakes. Sans licked his fingers clean then deliberately reached up to fondle the buckle of the collar fastened securely around his cervical vertebrae, lightly tracing the shape of the heart.

Outrage cranked up to something very close to murderous, teetering on the precipice of violence. Sans hooked a finger into the narrow band and pulled the collar taut, the scrape of leather against bone just barely audible.

For an endless moment, they hung right over the edge of the cliff, one foot dangling and the other right on top of the banana peel.

Then Red hopped to his feet, muttering under his breath as he stormed over to Mandy’s bench. If he stomped with any more force he'd be leaving shoeprints in the pathway. Mandy looked wisely concerned at his approach and whatever Red said only made it worse, her already large eyes widening. Sans doubted anyone in the courtyard would notice if Asgore put in a sudden appearance, stark naked and riding a unicycle.

Oh, yeah, this was gonna be all over the Embassy in about two minutes. He gave it about five before Edge called his brother to ask what the fuck he’d done, probably to silently confirm no bodies were laying around in need of a little discreet hiding.

Welp, might as well add Mandy to the list of people who probably weren’t gonna to be stopping by for game night. Huh, what would it be like to have Red spit an apology into your lap on a nice, sunny day over your ham and swiss on rye, hocking a ‘sorry’ right into your face? It was pretty chucklicious from this side of the equation and who said math wasn’t fun?

Not that the apology was really for her, anyway. Sans would have to apologize himself later for accidentally dragging her into their kink parade, she sure hadn’t signed on to walk with the clowns. Something to look forward to, maybe he could get her a Team Veronica t-shirt made up. If she let him get close enough to hand it over, might have to just leave it on her desk.

Apology concluded, Red stomped back and Sans swore he saw the branches on the trees quivering in his wake. He flung himself back on the bench and said nothing, only made a fair attempt at withering a patch of daffodils with his glare.

Sans waited, took a sip of his cooling coffee as he counted to ten and then did it again before he said, very softly, "good boy."

Oh, honey, it was worth a hundred apologies and a thousand t-shirts to see Red’s sockets briefly close as that shiver went through him. Worth so very much more.

"hope you got plenty of sleep last night," Red said through gritted teeth, “’cause tonight you’re gonna be pretty busy singing a fuckin' midnight symphony.” Oh, fuck, yes, there were dark promises in those words, caverns-deep, miles below the surface and ready to crawl out of the depths and make Sans grateful for many layers of bedroom soundproofing.

It was a beautiful, sunny day, there was coffee, silent promises, and french fries, and Sans was more than happy to take another grateful bite.

-finis-

[kaydenkreates30]

Recently got a flip phone and the idea to draw a cutesy Spicyhoney background immediately popped into my mind xD

And I wanted to make it that they would appear on the different screens so it looked like they were connected yet still separated - though I want to make one but with them as chibis (as Fells side seems a bit hard to see- even for me haha) and maybe different drawings of them together for both screens

[achirding]

Hide and Seek...?

For @kwiatowyziemniaczek​, who asked for pillowfort adventures with Pancake and family! :D  

[itsladykit]

Telling Tales--[RESET]

For a pair of anons, one of whom I’ve named Rocklife. For reasons.

Triggers--implied torture

Flowey popped up beside Papyrus to ogle the small black box cradled in his phalanges. “Howdy, Papy~!” he greeted cheerily, nearly vibrating with excitement. Today was the day! “Oh, wowie! Is that it?” He leaned close, leaves brushing the sides of the box. Papyrus obligingly extended his hand and lifted the lid so Flowey could examine the ring inside. A yellow plastic body supported a comically large, ruby-red piece of candy, cut to look like a gemstone.

“yep,” Papy said, absently toying with his hoodie strings. “think edge’ll go for it?”

Delicately, Flowey hooked a vine through the ring and brought it to his face, tilting it left and right so the Underground’s artificial light caught on the “gem’s” facets. “Of course he will!” Flowey said, “He loves you!”

As a matter of fact, Flowey knew exactly how everything would play out. Papyrus—or ‘Stretch’, as the other skeletons called him—would have everything ready by now. For a self-described ‘lazybones’, Stretch could be dedicated and detail-oriented when properly motivated. From searching out the perfect spot—a secluded outlook in Waterfall, with the best view of both the waterways and the stars overhead—to gathering everything for their picnic—fresh fruits and chocolate spread, cheese and Muffet’s freshly baked bread, and a real rarity: a bottle of sparkling wine—Stretch had made sure that everything would meet his partner’s exacting standards. The spot he’d chosen really was perfect, and though Edge was a finicky eater, Stretch knew how to cater to his tastes. This was important to him, and he didn’t want to mess it up. The ring was the only outlier, a concession to Stretch’s anxiety. He’d chosen a candy ring, rather than a real one, so that he could play everything off like an elaborate joke if Edge said ‘no’.

Flowey knew he wouldn’t, though.

At the end of their date, when Stretch finally summoned up the courage to pull the ring out of his hoodie pocket and present it to Edge, Edge would eye it and him skeptically. His features would relax into an expression that was almost a smile. But not quite. He’d be trying to hide his excitement, his joy—afraid that this was just a joke. He’d be trying to play cool, even as his soul trembled. “What’s this?” he’d ask, taking the ring and eyeing his boyfriend. “Too much work for the lazybones to get a real ring?”

Flowey would have to cover his mouth at that point to keep himself from laughing with excitement and joy. He loved this part. It was the best part, his favorite part. “nah,” Stretch would say, leaning in and touching Edge’s jawbone lightly. “just thought you deserved a ring as sweet as you are~.”

Edge would stare at him. Then, voice flat, he’d say, “You know, I believe the terrible pick-up lines are supposed to end once the dating starts. In fact, I’m quite certain that’s how it’s supposed to work. Did you not read that section of the handbook?”

Stretch’s grin would grow even broader. “is that a yes~?” Though his voice would be teasing, his phalanges would tremble and his eyelights would grow bright. Even knowing exactly how things would progress, Flowey wouldn’t be able to help but vibrate with sympathetic anxiety. No matter how many times he played this run, part of him was always afraid that the ending might be different this time. (Afraid, yes, but excited too. New things were always so exciting.)

Now Edge would pull away slightly, always prepared for the worst…but ever-hoping for the best. “Is this…?” He’d look between the box and his partner. “Is this a joke?” Before Stretch’s hopes could collapse in on themselves, though, he’d say, “Because toying with my feelings isn’t funny, you jack—“

Then Stretch would swoop in and catch his hands between his own. The humor would have drained from his features, and he’d allow the hope and the fear that he’d been hiding to shine through. Stars! Flowey adored that kind of naked vulnerability! It was wonderful—particularly from a monster like Papyrus. “it‘s not a joke, edgelord. i want. i want you. not just for today, but for tomorrow too. and the next day. and the next. i want to be with you for all your tomorrows, and i want you to be with me for mine.” He’d swallow nervously and shift onto one knee. “if. if you’ll have me, that is.” And the speech! Ah, that was his other favorite part! If only for the delicious irony.

Edge would stare at him, flabbergasted and flushed a soft red with his magic. “I DO. I-I mean. Yes. Yes, I’ll— Yes!” After that, there’d be kissing, and they’d disappear in a pulse of magic. Flowey didn’t care about that part, though. He just loved watching them interact—the way their expressions would shift and change, their banter, how they were both so intensely afraid to love the other…but willing, in the end, to face that fear. Stars, it was wonderful.

Flowey would forever be grateful for whatever had brought the two edgy skeletons to this softer universe. Papyrus had always been his favorite; having a second Papyrus practically drop into his lap had been like a gift, like the stars had finally granted him a cure for his boredom. It was endlessly entertaining, watching those two interact. More so because there were so many ways their relationship could play out.

It was easy enough to put the two of them in a bad mood prior to their first meeting. Easy enough to keep their tensions running high. Then, without much more than an occasional nudge from him, they’d be at each other’s throats. Hate at ‘first’ sight, as it were. Those runs were fun. Watching them clash and fight and snap at each other, but remain unable, in the end, to resist the other’s draw. It was awful and self-destructive and beautiful to witness. Watching them tear each other apart was almost as much fun as doing it himself, when he was in one of his moods.

However, it was nice, sometimes, to let a ‘sweet’ run play out. With the right preparations and the proper handling, they could click together instantly. Those runs were almost so saccharine they were sickening. It wasn’t one of his preferred runs. Everything was just a little too sweet, a little too easy for Flowey’s tastes. But, every once in a while, when something had gotten to him—or if he felt something that might, in another lifetime, have been guilt for a particularly bad run—it was satisfying to allow them that bit of sweetness.

This was his absolute favorite run, though, even if it required very little interference from him—almost demanded, in fact, that he remain hands off. The way they sniped and snapped at each other when they met. How that fire would shift slowly, kindling a new emotion. Neither purely cruel, nor purely sweet, but possessing the best elements of both runs. He loved this run. So he couldn’t resist replaying it. Over. And over. And over again.

Stretch smiled down at him, tucking the jewelry box close to his chest. “thanks, pal,” he said, “i, uh, i don’t know if…. i mean, i guess i’m just—“ He took a breath and scratched the back of his skull. “i just wanted to let you know, i appreciate that you’ve been here for me. it makes everything easier.”

Beaming up at him, Flowey twirled his petals a little, blushing happily. “Of course!” he chirped, “What are friends for, right?” Biting down on a phalange—a nervous habit the trashbag hadn’t been able to break him of—Stretch nodded, sockets closed. It looked like he was steeling himself, mentally preparing for his date with Edge. Sidling up close, Flowey brushed his petals against Stretch’s shoulder. “You can do it!” he said cheerily, “Don’t worry; he’ll say yes! You two were meant to be together. I know it!” Actually, as far as he knew, that was the truth. No matter what he did, no matter how he played the run, these two were always drawn to each other. It wasn’t always a happy arrangement—and sometimes one Papyrus or the other would briefly engage with the other’s Sans—but in the end, they always came together, even if it ended badly.

“thanks,” Stretch said, standing. “i, uh, i should probably get going. you know how edge is—if i say our date’s at four, then i better be ready to go at three, right?”

“Good luck!” Flowey said, waving as he walked off. As Papyrus disappeared around the corner, a brief bit of melancholy washed over the flower. Yes, this was one of his favorite runs, and he was honestly sad to see it end. He’d reset shortly after the proposal. The interesting part was over, after all; he had no interest in what came next. Already, he was wondering what he’d do for his next run.

He was not prepared for the lattice of bones that suddenly surrounded him. He wasn’t really afraid or surprised, though. Mostly, he was just annoyed. The trashbag had caught on to his game. Grumbling under his breath, he lashed out with a vine, shattering the bones. A rapid series of attacks struck him in the face—[RESET]—He dodged a rapid series of attacks aimed at his face, glaring at the small, smiling skeleton all the while. Eyelights twinkling a brilliant blue, the trashbag said, “I thought I detected an anomaly.”

Dodging the last bone, Flowey took his turn—whipping the small sentry with vines and razor-edged leaves. The trashbag was almost as good at dodging as Flowey himself—better, if he was being honest, since he didn’t have Flowey’s unique abilities—and managed to get away with only a few minor hits. He was fortunate he didn’t share the other trashbag’s handicap, or he’d already be dust. (That was the one bad thing about suddenly finding himself blessed with two Papyrus-es. They each had a trashbag dragging them down. How tedious.)

“So you’re one of Papy’s friends, huh?” he asked cheerfully, as if he wasn’t busy ducking around writhing vines. He took a moment, when Flowey’s turn was over, to survey the flower. Still grinning. To the uninitiated, he probably looked sweet and innocent—cute, even. His bubbly demeanor had certainly fooled Flowey. For a little while, at least. “Funny,” the trashbag said, bouncing on his toes as he readied himself for his turn, “I thought Papy was telling one of his jokes, when he said he’d been talking to a flower.”

An intimidating skull appeared in front of Flowey, it’s maw opening wide to—[RESET]—An intimidating skull appeared in front of Flowey, and he ducked to the side to dodge the beam of magic it fired. Another appeared and he—[RESET]—he dodged to the side, prepared this time for the next shot and the next and the next. Teeth grit and game face on, Flowey snarled wordlessly at the infuriating trashbag. Who just smiled back at him, even as Flowey rained petal-bullets down on him.

How many times had he heard this speech, exactly? Or a variant of it? The trashbag had no right to call him an anomaly. The small skeleton was the real freak! Everyone else was consistent. Constant. Press button A, and they did action X. The joy was in figuring them out, tearing them apart—literally and metaphorically—to find the right sequence of buttons to press to get the reactions he wanted. And if he made a mistake, so what? He could always—

[RESET]

—He ducked to dodge the bones suddenly tossed his way. It wasn’t even the trashbag’s turn! No fair! The trashbag was always spoiling things for him. Always making things that should have been easy. So. Difficult. “So, are you?” the trashbag asked, something sharper in his skeletal grin now, “Friends with my little brother? Because, if you are, I have to say, I’m disappointed. I thought Papy had higher standards than that.”

He raised a hand, and bones rose up from the ground in a wave. Flowey ducked and dodged and wove through the—[RESET]—wove through the attacks. The words didn’t hurt. Flowey didn’t have a soul, so he couldn’t be hurt by words or experience anything like guilt or fear or-or anything! So the trashbag’s words didn’t hurt him. They didn’t. And if Flowey’s next round of attacks were especially vicious, it was because he was angry, that’s all. (He most especially wasn’t hurt, knowing what the trashbag would say next. That was ridiculous.)

“What kind of monster are you, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.” More freaky dog-skulls appeared in a ring, firing off in a randomized pattern. Flowey had to—[RESET]—work hard to dodge them all. “All the monsters I know are made of goodness and kindness and love,” the trashbag said, neatly ducking a whipping vine. Flowey did manage to hit him with a petal-bullet, though. “I’ve certainly never met a monster that would willfully hurt someone he calls ‘friend’, like you are.”

Unable to stop himself, Flowey said, “I’m not hurting him!” Oh. Poop. The trashbag’s grin only grew broader.

“Really? You don’t think so?” he challenged, raising a hand to summon a series of bone attacks that—

[RESET]

[RESET]

[RESET]

[RESET!!]

—were nearly impossible to dodge, but Flowey managed. Panting a little, the trashbag glared at him, though he never dropped his grin. “I certainly think pretending to be someone’s friend for your own amusement qualifies as ‘hurting’ them. So does manipulating a person to achieve your own ends. And I know that dangling the chance for happiness in front of them and snatching it away. Again. And again. And again!” He punctuated each ‘again’ with a strike from a bone club that Flowey just. Couldn’t dodge. He didn’t even bother to try. “Definitely counts as hurting them. Even if they can’t remember it.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He’d played this run too many times in close succession. The timelines matched too closely, and the freakwas able to piece together that something was off. Usually, he had his own script to follow; he didn’t seem to remember the events of timelines past either. Sometimes, though, Flowey screwed up, and the trashbag started to retain his memories.

The solution was simple, really. All Flowey had to do was retire this game for a little while. Put his toys on the shelf and give them a break. Maybe take down another set, a less favored set, if he was really bored. Then, in time, the trashbag would start to forget again, would dismiss the flashbacks as nothing more than déjà vu or the remnants of nightmares. Then, Flowey could play with his favorites again.

He knew this. He’d had to do it before, and all in all, it would only cost him a little time. And what was time to a creature like him? He had time in spades. The problem was, he would be bored. And Flowey hated being bored. Hated it. Well. He was going to reset anyway, right? He may as well exact a little revenge on the smiley trashbag. The skeleton couldn’t dodge forever, after all, and it had been a while since Flowey had really allowed himself to break some bones. Grinning, Flowey stretched to his full height and flexed his vines, encircling the small skeleton.

This run was ruined, but he’d make the best of it, at least.

[RESET]

Sans woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat and body aching. Blue tears tracked down his face, staining his cheekbones. Without a word, he leapt out of bed and rushed down the hall to his brother’s room. “Papy,” he croaked weakly, and Papyrus was awake immediately. Ordinarily, Sans would feel terrible about disturbing his brother’s rest. He knew how hard it was for Papyrus to sleep at night, but he also knew that Papyrus would never turn him away when he was in need.

“heya, bro? wassa matter?” he asked sleepily. “did you have a nightmare?” Sans nodded mutely. “do you? do you want to sleep in here?” This time, he didn’t bother nodding. He just bounded over and dived beneath the covers, curling up beside his younger—but bigger—brother. Papyrus rubbed his back. “do you wanna talk about it, bro?” He shook his head and just clung. “ ‘kay.” For a while, they both lay there, silent and sleepless. Then, quietly, Papyrus suggested, “you wanna work on the machine?”

Sans sniffed, thinking about it. It would certainly get his mind off his nightmare. Though, something was nagging at him. Something about the machine. Brows furrowed, he tried to remember…but it slipped from him. Closing his sockets, though, he…he had a good feeling about it. “We’re going to fix it soon,” he announced suddenly, sitting up. The thought—more of an amorphous feeling, really—galvanized him. “Yeah. Let’s go work on it!”

Papyrus sat up and stretched. (Stretch…? Why was that important? Why was—?) “you got it, bro. let’s get that hunk of junk up and running.” He paused suddenly and snickered to himself.

“What—? Papy, no.”

Papyrus grinned. “i was just hoping it wouldn’t run too fast for us to catch."

Sans sighed deeply. “Why are you like this?”

“aw, bro, c’mon. you know you love me.”

(More than he would ever realize.)

[onesinnerzerostandards]

1st place raffle prize for @evil-twinsister .  does it count as spicyhoney if the honey is the only one checking the spice out? anyway, i’m so, so, *so* sorry for the wait... I’ll upload more soon, guys. stay tuned. 

if you guys want to see more activity from me, check out my twitter here

[constantly-tired-reader]

those quiet forest nights

[paintys-actual-art]

z Z z Z z Z z Z

[cheapbourbon]

Strangely, having the creature hovering nearby felt almost reassuring, like it was watching over him protectively...

silence of the lamb by the insanely talented @askellie 

[ollie-oxen-free]

Chilly

flufftober day one: spicyhoney

god, it has been entirely too long since ive just written fluff. have some soft boys.

Fell didn’t believe in happily ever after.

The idea was fine for fairy tales, he supposed. For stories to tell to children who were young enough to not yet have to worry about the dangers of their universe. Most of the stories he was told growing up were less stories and more threats, cautionary tales where most of the foolish ended up dead or worse. Not the healthiest things to tell to children, perhaps, but the safest. When the wrong choice could get you killed, happily ever after was a death sentence.

He still didn’t believe in it, even as he sat with Stretch tucked under his arm, the other reading aloud from a book he had long since lost the plot of. Fell didn’t care about the stories they read. The other’s voice was far more important to him.

Stretch shifted a bit as he turned the page, warmth pressed against his side that was so different from the crisp autumn air of the park, the smell of damp leaves and soil.

“You don’t seem too interested in the story.”

Fell stopped his surveillance of the park, glancing down to see Stretch starting at him with a raised brow. “I was enjoying it, actually.” Stretch’s voice had a sort of lilt to it, scratchy but not rough like his own. It was peaceful to listen to.

“Oh really? Then what just happened in the book?”

Fell looked down, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pages, but Stretch shut the book before he could see it. He opted not to answer, the silence being enough. Stretch sighed, but it was fond, no real offence taken at the lack of attention to the story.

“You can keep reading it, you know.” Stretch huffed out a laugh that turned into a hum as he brought his hand to the other’s neck, thumbing across the bone there. Smooth. Unmarred.

A brisk wind blew through the area, scattering the leaves on the ground and making Stretch shiver. The other leaned further into his side, and in return he pulled him closer, eyes lidded but not exactly closed as he started reading once more. Fell didn’t believe in happily ever after.

But he knew that this was the closest he would get.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Weak Spots

Summary:  Red knew he should've just kept walking.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Red didn’t do walks. Why the fuck would he, for his health? Wasn’t a workout plan out there that was gonna build him any muscle and when your main mode of transportation was taking a step through the void, you tended to keep the travel expenses to a minimum.

So no, he didn’t do walks, or strolls, or jogs, did he look like his fucking brother? Maybe a little around the eye sockets, but where Edge was always on the move, Red’s internal gearshift was set on park. He liked to have a clear idea of where he was coming from and where he was going to, and not much in between.

All of that was a longass way of saying that wandering down the street with a cigar in one hand and an itchy tailbone in the other was not his normal state of being. Just the walking part, the smokes and the ass scratch were a daily occurrence.

Sometimes, though, the urge struck to get out, to circle the block and have a looksee around that wasn’t through a camera lens. His leg bones got jittery, was all, and tended to take him along for the ride.

If you asked Sans, they weren’t walks at all, it was only him taking a mo’ to survey his domain. Said if Red coulda taken a piss, he’d be whizzing on any tree or fire hydrant he passed. But no one fucking asked Sans, so who gave a shit what that fucker thought about it.

He’d be paying for that remark in spades when Red got back. Spades, diamonds, clubs, he’d owe in all the suits.

(maybe even hearts)

Red shuffled easily along, the soles of his boots scraping the concrete. Up to the border where Old New Home and New New Home met and transformed from mostly abandoned carbon copy houses to pretty little family homes. Didn’t usually go this far out, but it was better’n trudging through the roughly plowed streets of his neighborhood. The sidewalks here were newer and heated, cleared from any snowy sludge, and Red was plenty done with all forms snow; after years in Snowdin, he’d had enough of it for this lifetime and halfway into the next.

The sidewalk made a lazy loop through the little park system that was slowly getting built up. Ebott had a few parks, sure, but not all Monsters wanted to drive out or haul their kiddos on the bus for a little swing set time. No one was on the playground right now, the swings hanging empty, the jungle gym iced over. Maybe on a warmer day, the kiddos would be out but today the chill was keeping them behind closed doors, wasn’t another soul in sight and—

Wait.

In one corner of the park, deep in the snowdrifts and sitting at the wide base of sheltering tree was someone in a bright orange jacket. For a split second, he thought it was Stretch sitting huddled over there; not too many other people around here chose to dress like they were in search of a fucking crosswalk to guard.

A blink and a closer look proved it was a trick of sight, not that Red was that far off. Turned out to be Andy, the honey bun’s shorter platonic soulmate was the one parked alone in the snow. Kid was sitting with his head resting on his updrawn knees, his arms wrapped around ‘em and Red’d seen enough people in that position to recognize when someone was havin’ a cry. ‘course, usually it was his fault…

Anyway.

What he should do is just keep on walking. Kid hadn’t seen him and whatever his troubles were, there were plenty of other shoulders out there he could spill ‘em on. Hell, Blue might kick his own brother out of the way to rip his damn shirt off so Jeff could use it as a Kleenex and apologize for not washin’ it first.

Red had enough on his plate, thanks, and he didn’t need anyone feeding him whatever was the daily special for angst.

Keep on walking, yep, that was what he should do. Maybe even take a shortcut, head on back home where Sans was probably still curled up on the sofa in the same grungy shorts he’d worn the day before, socks sagging down to puddle at his ankles and a smear of ketchup on the front of his t-shirt. No one was ever gonna paint him like one of their French girls and that was fine by Red. Let his bro keep the pretty one, Red had a claim on the asshole, even had his name on ‘im these days and Sans wore it bold as the brass it was engraved on.

Shoulda, coulda…didn’t. Red heaved out a sigh and stopped. His bro was the one who kept collecting liabilities but fuck if Red hadn’t picked up a coupla weak spots of his own along the way and Handy Andy was one of ‘em.

If Grillby could only see him now, he’d laugh his flaming fucking head off.

So Red took a detour, wandered over in Andy’s direction. The snow was deeper out here, spilling cold into the tops of his boots and why the fuck couldn’t people have a crisis where it was warm? Andy didn’t look up and Red leaned against the tree trunk, grimacing at the chill leaking through his jacket as he struck a match against the rough bark.

That got him a startled gasp and Jeff jerked, looking up at him with a tearstained face and red-rimmed eyes.

Red worked on lighting a fresh cigar, wondered idly if he's gonna have to arrange some kind of 'accident'. Better not be Antwan making the kid cry, 'cause if he had to murder his bro's best friend, it'd be a lot of damn work; he’d need to make that case airtight, Edge always gotta be so suspicious. Trained baby bro too well in that.

But patience was asking too fucking much and his feet were cold, so Red asked gruffly, "so what's the problem, kid?"

“Nothing,” Jeff said, sniffling,

“uh huh. just rehearsing for the big play, is that it?”

He was quiet for a long moment and Red didn’t say another word, only smoked his cigar and let the silence crawl up Andy’s spine, prickling like a sin until he finally blurted, “My mom called.”

“that so,” Red said, indifferently. Leaving the door open and as suspected, Jeff blundered right on through it.

“My dad had a heart attack and he's in the hospital,” Jeff said. A fresh wash of tears fell down his cheeks and he wiped them impatiently away on his sleeve. “She said he’s stable and he doesn’t want to see me, but she wanted to let me know.”

“sounds like a bitch move right there.” He snuck a glance and saw the protest rising on Jeff’s face in a ‘don’t call my mom’ a bitch sort of way, watched as it faded.

“Maybe it was,” Jeff said, low. He dropped his chin back on his knees, his gaze resting on wide field of untouched snow in front of him. “You’d think I’d be over it. It’s been years since he kicked me out. I want to hate him, you know? Sometimes I even do, but…it's still my dad. It still hurts, every stupid time.”

“uh huh.” Yeah, Red got that. Sometimes all the what ifs and could bes and wishes for things to be different got clotted up with reality. It happened. "so why ain't you with the honey bun or sacked up with your booty call? why are you sittin' here alone like a dumbass?"

Jeff didn't answer for a long minute, his eyes on the ground, until he finally muttered, "Because they'd try to make me feel better."

Ah.

Red only nodded, shifting to stand upright with a grunt. "gotcha. welp, wallow away, kid." He stuck his cigar between his teeth, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started off, tromping back through the snow. A low, muted sob rose behind him and Red paused long to call back, "i'll give ya a coupla hours to get it out of your system, kid. cry, scream, play country music, don't give a shit, but after that, you better be headed someplace more cheerful, you get me?"

"Okay," Jeff sniffled, all pained gratitude and fresh tears. "Thanks, Red."

"don't. i wasn't even here." Red walked out back out to the sidewalk and left the kid to it, headed in the direction of home, and if he pulled up the camera hidden on one corner of the jungle gym on his phone, eh, Jeff should know better by now than to ever think Red wasn't watching.

-finis-

[sin-cognito]

A 46 and A 99 fic for Cherryberry Please :-) Congratulations on the anniversary ! You deserve all the success you have and your work is absolutely amazing!

Ahh thank you!!! ♥♥♥ And you spoiled me with your request! I just love those two together! And there’s spicyhoney happening in the background, because why not.

cherryberry, NSFW

Read on AO3

Red was very supportive of Fell’s relationship with Swap. After a difficult life of killed or be killed mentality, Fell had finally found someone he cared about and who loved him back. And Red really got along with Swap, so that was a plus.

So when Fell suggested they all went camping for two weeks, Red hadn’t hesitated even one second. Two weeks with his favorite bro and his favorite best friend? Hell yeah!

But Red hadn’t anticipated that there would be another guest to their little outing. Swap’s brother, Blue.

Oh Red didn’t have a problem with Blue, no. Quite the contrary even. He was crushing hard on the small skeleton. So how was he supposed to hide his feelings if they were to share the same tent?! Because of course there was no way for Red to sleep with Fell in his tent. Not a chance since Swap was here too. And bringing two individual tents for him and Blue would be a waste of space, Blue had so kindly remarked. ‘WE CAN JUST SHARE THE SAME TENT!’ Blue had exclaimed. And Red knew he was doomed.

It was only two weeks, he tried to reassure himself. But two weeks was actually very long, he corrected himself at the end of the first day. Since Fell all but monopolized Swap, Red was the only one left to keep Blue company. So they had spent the entire day chatting and exploring the woods. And it didn’t help lessen Red’s crush on Blue. In fact, what had been a little infatuation was slowly but surely turning into deeper feelings.

After dinner and a few card games, they all went to sleep. Fell was particularly exhausted (he had admitted not sleeping well last night from being to excited to spend two weeks with his lover, but Red had promised not to say anything). Red changed into his pajamas, that he wasn’t used to wear but he wasn’t about to repel Blue by sleeping in his dirty clothes, while Blue finished to wash his face. When the small skeleton came back to the tent, Red was already buried in his sleeping bag.

“ARE YOU ALREADY SLEEPING, RED?” Blue asked.

“uhh nah… not yet,” he mumbled, unsure if it was the right answer or not.

He heard Blue slip into his sleeping bag and close the tent.

“TODAY WAS SO MUCH FUN, I HOPE TOMORROW WILL BE JUST AS FUN!” Blue whispered as quietly as he could with his booming voice. “Will you keep me company again?” He managed to tone it down a bit.

“yeah, of course!” Red replied a bit too fast. He hoped his enthusiasm wasn’t showing too much.

They chatted a bit longer and finally went silent. Red could tell Blue had fallen asleep from his regular breathing pattern. He tried to stop himself but he found it impossible to not break the ultimate rule to sleeping next to someone you’re not dating: he turned on his side to face blue. It was a tacit agreement that you didn’t just spy on someone’s face when they were sleeping, but if Red could catch a glimpse of Blue’s little sleepy face, he didn’t mind going to hell for it.

Even better, Blue was sleeping on his back, his head lightly turned on the side. Luckily for Red, it was toward him, so he could admire how soft looking his little cheeks were, how his mouth opened when he breathed. Red’s gazed focused on his closed eyesockets, imagining Blue’s starry eyes behind.

Red lifted his hand quietly, stretching it out to almost touch Blue’s face. He shouldn’t.

He shouldn’t.

He retracted his hand, slipping it back into his sleeping back instead. He couldn’t stop it from going down, down until it rubbed at his crotch. He shouldn’t. But nobody would know, right? Blue was asleep. He would just have to be extra careful in being silent. It wasn’t his forte, but…

He closed his eyes and let his hand wander further down under the hem of his pajamas pants. He felt his magic gather under his fingers, and with just another light touch here and there, his ruby cock was summoned, already erect.

Red didn’t lose time in pumping the magic shaft, occasionally licking his hand so his cock was nice and slick. He soon was bucking into his hand, the delicious friction drawing muffled moans from him. He let his imagination get wild and creative, the mental image of Blue pleasuring him never leaving his thoughts. 'Red! Red!’ he could almost hear him.

“Red!” Blue’s voice echoed in the silent tent, over the wet sounds Red was making.

“y-yeah… blue… mmmh, that feel so good,” Red answered him imagination.

He couldn’t help a grunt from leaving his mouth and hoped he hadn’t been too loud. He opened his eyes to check if Blue was still sleeping.

…And was met with a pair of big blue eyes.

He knew them.

Red couldn’t stop his hand, even as he realized Blue was awake and staring at him. While he was jerking off.

“wow fuck blue?!! what the-,” he shouted, suddenly aware of what he was doing in front of his crush. He knew he shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t-

“Were you masturbating?” Blue asked calmly, as if it could be something else.

“u-uh… no, i was just…” Red tried to think of a coherent excuse, but between his still throbbing cock and Blue’s gaze focused on him, his mind went blank. “uhhh…”

“Want some help?”

Red didn’t immediately understood what Blue meant. But he surely did when the small skeleton opened his sleeping bag and straddled his lap. He felt something soft and warm inside Blue’s pants press against his cock. Blue bent down until his face was a just a breath apart from Red.

“So? What do you say?”

“yeah!” It didn’t take time for Red to answer.

Blue then pulled him for a deep, messy kiss. Their tongues danced together, but it wasn’t enough for Red who broke the kiss to nip at Blue’s neck, drawing deliciously lewd sound from him. Blue soon couldn’t hold it anymore and took his pants off, revealing a tantalizing ecto-pussy. Red’s mouth watered at the mere sight of it hovering over his cock.

“You know,” Blue began as he trailed a finger down Red’s ribcage, “I’ve been having these thoughts about you lately… But while I’m definitely going to enjoy this, I just want you to know that it won’t change anything between us. So if you wanna stay friends, I promise that-”

“blue. i don’t want to stay friends,” Red interrupted him. He had to get those feelings out of his chest.

Blue’s eyes opened wide and then he smiled, the purest, most genuinely happy smile Red had ever seen. It almost made him want to cry from how cute Blue was.

The sweet interlude didn’t keep their focus from the matter at hand for long though, and Blue finally lowered himself on Red’s cock, slowly, oh so slowly. The two skeletons couldn’t contain their moans, but Blue got especially loud when Red began moving. Though his fast pace wasn’t helping admittedly.

“Red! Oh my stars, you’re so big!”

“sshhh, b-babe. you’re too loud…” Red whispered, though he had difficulties keeping his volume down too.

“But Red!! You feel so good inside me! Hmmm!”

Oh fuck, Blue was so cute like this, his face flushed and drops of sweat glistening on his skull. Red wondered if he was in heaven or something. But the friction between his cock and Blue’s walls grounded him to reality.

“OH FUCK RED, RED I’M CLOSE!” Blue suddenly shouted without a warning.

There was something in the way Blue was falling apart, shouting obscenities and chanting his name, that made Red snap. He pulled Blue for a heated kiss, his tongue running over the other’s teeth, asking for entrance that was granted immediately. It didn’t stop Blue from moaning loudly though and Red distantly wondered if Fell and Swap could hear them.

“heh. do you think they can hear us through the tent?” Red grunted.

“yes we can,” Swap said loud enough to be heard over Red’s and Blue’s moans.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! SOME MONSTERS HERE ACTUALLY WANT TO SLEEP!” Fell shouted even louder.

[achirding]

Hadn’t drawn my baby in a while, so have some Stretch playing with Pancake~~ :D

[itsladykit]

Here. Have a drabble.

I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Thank you @cheapbourbon for your help. And for the chickens. The chickens are definitely your fault. 

Semi-sequel to THIS.

Pairings: Puppymoney & Spicyhoney

Tags: fluff

Edge carried the cake into Cash and Slim’s new house. Beside him, Rus eyed the entryway, whistling appreciatively. “Behave,” Edge said immediately, earning a cheeky grin.

“what’s the matter, edgelord? afraid i’ll break something?”

“Yes.”

Rus snorted, then raised his hand in greeting when his little brother called out to him. He leaned over and pecked Edge on the check, murmuring, “no promises,” before he darted away. Edge rolled his eyelights, repressing an amused smile as he entered the kitchen and set down the cake. Blackberry greeted him happily, asking if he’d seen the backyard yet. He shook his head, replying that they’d only just arrived. After rejecting Blackberry’s offer to make him a plate of food, he escaped as quickly as possible, searching out the bar. They’d teleported over, so he was free to drink, and at get-togethers like this, that was always the best choice.

Cash was waiting for him with a glass of sriracha and vodka over ice. He took it with a grateful nod, knocking back a decent amount before looking around him. The duck pond and the turtle habitat earned a raised brow-bone, though Cash just met the expression head-on, refusing to be embarrassed. “What’s the matter?” Edge asked, “Couldn’t afford an actual zoo?”

Cash just took a sip of his maple syrup cocktail. “big talk, edgelord, but i’ve seen rus’ instagram. how’re the chickens treating you?”

Edge’s expression didn’t change, but he could feel his cheekbones heating as magic rushed to his face. Both of them turned away simultaneously, looking past the patio. Slim, smiling broadly, was taking Rus and Blue on a tour of his small menagerie. The dog was following at his heels, and the duck was cradled in his arms. Edge didn’t think he’d ever seen him look so happy. Rus, too, was smiling and talking animatedly, though they were too far away for their conversation to carry. Edge swallowed hard and took a drink. His soul ached, sometimes, just looking at Rus.

Sidling closer, Cash leaned on the bar beside Edge and said, voice soft, “got a question for you.”

Edge eyed him. “Well? Ask.”

Looking down at his drink, Cash rubbed his thumb over the rim. “…how do you…?” He huffed, as if impatient with himself. He knocked back the rest of his drink, looking almost angry for a moment. “is it ever hard for you? being with him?”

“If you’re implying something—“

“no. not like—fuck.” Cash eyed his empty tumbler, then huffed. “never mind.”

For a few minutes, they were silent, both of them watching as their lovers talked and laughed and fussed over the duckling in Slim’s arms. Finally, Edge relented. “It’s…frightening, sometimes.”

Cash looked at him. “…yeah?”

Edge nodded stiffly. “He’s fragile. And so fucking trusting. It’s…. Yes. Sometimes it’s hard.”

“you don’t want to disappoint him.”

Edge very much suspected that Cash wasn’t actually talking about him. “No. Never.”

“he’s too good for you.”

Now Edge knew Cash wasn’t actually talking about him. “Sometimes I think that, yes.”

“only sometimes?”

“Not as often any more.” He eyed his wedding ring, spinning it around his metacarpal. Marriage hadn’t actually changed their relationship very much, but he enjoyed the sense of stability it brought with it. “What about you?”

Cash didn’t say anything. As if sensing their conversation, Slim turned and waved at him, smiling broadly. Cash raised his empty glass in toast, and Slim turned back to Rus, saying something. They started toward the bar, and Edge leaned over to say, “He loves you, idiot. You’re obviously good enough in his eyes.”

Pouring himself more liquid courage, Cash asked, “what if i fuck up?”

“Then apologize and don’t do it again,” Edge said, grabbing rum, honey, and mint from the bar. He mixed the rum and honey in a shaker, then poured it over muddled mint, pushing the tumbler forward when Rus reached the bar.

Rus leaned over the bar to kiss him, then immediately asked, “so…you’ve got some recipes that call for duck eggs, right?”

“We have three chickens. We’re not getting a duck.”

“but just look at him!” He gestured at Slim, who helpfully held up the duckling. “he’s so cute!”

“Oh, he’s certainly cute, but I think Cash would object if we tried to take Slim home with us.”

Slim just grinned, leaning in to cuddle against Cash. He threw an arm around Slim’s waist, resting his chin on Slim’s shoulder. Turning his head, Slim kissed his cheekbone, sinking into the embrace. Rus shook his head, but he was smiling too. “not what i meant.”

Edge kissed him again, lacing their hands together. Smiling, Rus started chatting with Slim again, talking about chickens and ducks and about the box turtle roaming the enclosure in the far corner of the property. Edge met Cash’s eyelights, a moment of understanding passing between them. They each raised their glass in silent understanding and took a drink.

[morelikegerardheterosexual]

Ive been tagged by @uselessundertalefacts !! Thank u Caro 🥺

rules: answer the questions and tag people you want to get to know better/catch up with

Three ships: Hmm, I was never much into shipping before, but I really love Alphyne, Grillster, and Spicyhoney

Last song: Choker by twenty one pilots because perhaps I’m still very salty at Tyler Joseph but that song is so good.....

Last movie: I. Don’t watch stuff that much anymore. But my mom likes to put on Studio Ghibli movies to just have on in the background and I usually get caught up watching them hajdhajs, so probably Howl’s Moving Castle or Kiki’s Delivery Service or something...

Currently watching: Mostly just streams! Like the clown house clowns, and a few others. I did recently get hooked on Lucifer though actually, despite the copaganda, i really enjoy it!

Currently craving: Coffee oh my god. Coffee and probably something breakfasty because of Caro’s answer and I’m impressionable ahdkhsjd

Currently reading: Undertale fan fics baby. Just whatever’s updating. I haven’t read a book in so long....but I do have one I want to read! I think it’s called You Look Like a Thing and I Love You!

Tagging...hmm, @gui1ttripping @backwardsorbust @stealthboy @rotiniremorse @cyosecret and anyone who wants to do this!! 💖

[constantly-tired-reader]

some spicyhoney boys dancing into the sunset

[paintys-actual-art]

Mine to Protect

So me and @alicedragons did a collab, as you can see. My part isn’t as great as hers, but I had a lot of fun doing it :D So, please go read the fic part to this collab if its something you are interested in (I also recommend it because its a good read, and really well written. Edgelord and Rus are great in it <3333 and it’s just so good. Also, It will provide context for this comic XD but hopefully it isn’t too hard to understand). I will post the tags for it here, but there is also tags on the post, so be warned.

Tags: Explicit sexual content, Collaring, Possessiveness, Dom + Bottom Edge, Sub + Top Rus, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Check out Alice’s AMAZING part here!!!!