#i sometimes forget that his name ain’t actually sans undertale

[jesus-holding-your-fave]

Sans Undertale

I am shameless. I want Sans Undertale.

Today, Jesus is holding:

Sans from Undertale

[kryptsune]

How tall is WTU Sans? And does he just like regular mustard or is it a special kind like honey mustard or spicy? also what inspired you to create your own AU's and how do you keep from bored or burnt out? Also hi WTU Sans!

🌼Howdy! How tall is Red Fontaine? Well, I know most Sans are on the shorter side. In WTU’s case I canon that monsters by nature are far larger than humans even the smaller ones. Frisk is 5′5″ while Red is 5′9″. I like my taller boys what can I say X’D  It’s funny that you mention the mustard question because I rarely reference it in the story. I honestly just have him drinking regular alcohol but I would say some kind of spicy mustard most likely. (Honey mustard if off-limits *coughs*).  What inspired me to create my own AU. Humm well, I can talk about what made me want to start all of this in the first place. I do love darker stories. I have always found them more interesting and engaging. Don’t get me wrong I love some adorable fluff but I am also a huge fan of horror. I adore Undertale as everyone knows but I also kind of slipped into the AU fandom after a little bit. One of the ones I felt had some great potential was Underfell. I wanted to do my own take on those concepts. I will be honest I am not a fan of the og Underfell because it’s just kind of random stuff with no story or real purpose. Which is fine but I wanted something more. I wanted to treat it seriously. I think that drove me to want to fill in the many MANY blanks.  I had RPed my WTU Frisk in various places. Eventually, people kept mentioning that my world-building and answering of questions was just too good to leave in the RP sphere. I was absolutely terrified. I didn’t know if I was a good writer. I didn’t know if I could even do this project. Most of all I did not know if it was a story that anyone would even be interested in. It scared me and if you want my honesty I still have those doubts. The rest of the AU’s just kind of followed. I just love telling stories!  It’s a lot of fun to flesh out the ideas and the worlds. Felldritch takes my love of psychological horror and implements it into an Au, Outertale and Outerfell work off fantasy and sci-fi. I just have a love for crafting worlds and characters even if they are tied to a fandom. I stated before that I could totally take these ideas, change names and it would be original and I probably will do that in the future since I deviate so far from the original material sometimes. It’s just fun! I actually laughed. The thing is I struggle with burn out just like everyone else does. The important thing to recognize is that you take steps to rest and recover if it does happen. What I suggest is take breaks and if a story feels stale then you should just take time to write something you are inspired to write. I am struggling with WTU right now because of the university work I have to do. It is a massive fic. That’s why I upload Felldritch or Wonderfell chapters currently to supplement. I also have tons of fun with those so when I am able to return too WTU I am refreshed on it. Remember to have fun and enjoy what you are doing! That is so important, quality over quantity!  Thank you for all the awesome Questions! 

Red: “Darlin ya forgot bout me.”  Kit: “I would never forget you Red... sorry this one got kind of long.”  Red: “No worries doll. Just promised I’d say hi ta Virgil there. How ya doin there kiddo. Thanks fer all tha great questions.”  Kit: “Isn’t that my line?”  Red: “They asked fer me ta say hi.”  Kit: “Yes, yes. I know. You are such a marshmallow.”  Red: “No I ain’t!  Kit: “Yes youuuuu aaaarreeee. I am sure many would agree with me.~”  Red: *grumbles* 

[pacifistofpatience]

Ut, Uf, and Ht Sans who wake up one day to notice that their SO has painted flowers that remind them of their skelebae all over said skelebae's skull

Undertale (Iris- your friendship means so much tome/  Lily of the Valley- you’ve made mylife complete/ rose leaf- you may hope/ Blue violet- ill always be there)

Sans

A giggle roused Sans fromhis nap.

He knew that laugh well. Itwas one he had grown to love over the time he had spent with you, but also meant someone was plotting another prank on him. Duringone of his (many) sacred naps as well! To think- his own datemate- getting himwhen he was most vulnerable!

Sans bit back a grin. Stars,he taught you well!

But now it was time forpayback.

(Which, surely would notbe hard, you were always an easy target.)

Something soft touched hisforehead. Using the moment, he opened his eyes. His one eye light flashing abright blue as he used the smallest bit of magic to jostle the bed.

“boo!”

“Ah–!!”

The object that had beenon his forehead slid down his face and to his chin, along with it came thisoddly wet feeling he didn’t care enough to consider. You yanked your hand away,looking at the skeleton below with a frown.

“—You Bitch!!”

Sans chuckled.

“Oh my god seriously!” yousaid, jumping away form him in order to pull up what looked like a hand mirror.

You shoved it in his face,huffing in anger, “I was going to surprise you!”

Sans head lulled to the side,finally taking in his reflection. For a moment all he did was stare at the array of colors on his skull, as if trying to piece together a particular hard puzzle. But then his eye lights widened and he really saw what you had done. 

Flowers dotted everywhereon his face with no rhyme or reason to where they went. Little bell-shaped onesfacing every way, with a string of them right under his left socket. On top of hisright socket stood a brilliant blue flower- one that’s insides changed into yellowsand then faded to white as they reached the center. It was followed by a burstof smaller blue flowers that looked like an attempt at some sort of idea, but eventuallyjust devolved into placing them anywhere you wanted them to be.

(Oh– Did you really? Had you really?

Gosh, what was he going to do with you.)

And, in the center, down theridge of his nasal cavity and going past his ever present grin, was a long streakof purple.

(Never mind…)

“It was going good untilyou ruined it…” You said, without a hint of actual malice behind your voice.

Sans shrugged. He leanedback, “whelp, guess that means were gonna have to start from the beginning then.doesn’t it?” He closed his sockets, and you noted with a small grimace that thecolors on his lids were nothing but smudges.

But with a guy like him,you were sure you had plenty of time to fix it up.

“Guess we take it from the top.” You said.

You grabbed your brushagain and placed it right above his grin. For a moment you swirled it around, bidingyour time as Sans began to slowly drift back to sleep.

Just as he seemed to relax, you shoved the brush up his nose.

“hrrrrrnnnnkkk—!!!“

Underfell (red poppies- remembrance of war/ Azalea –take care of yourself for me/ Holly- domestic love)

Red

Sans had woken up alone.

It didn’t bother him asmuch as it used to, because he wasn’t in the Underground any more. He didn’t haveto worry about waking up without you there and thinking the worst had happened whilehe was asleep. Not anymore. Now all he had to do was take a deep breath in, rememberwhere he was, and just know everything was better.

You were here, with him,the clatter of pots and pans and the wafting smell of pancakes from somewherein the house told him as much.

Sans stretched, his bones rattlingas he slowly got up from his mess of a bed and started towards your sharedbathroom. A long time ago he would have laid in there for a few more hours,wasting the day away until his brother finally dragged him out and forced himinto his Sentry station, but now… now he had something else to wake up for.

(And it’s not that hisbrother wasn’t one of them, its just that there was always so much more thatweighed down on him before the barrier broke. He never got the chance to even thinkabout something so… domestic like this, let alone hope for it. But now he washere, now far off fables of a home and someone he could love was right there.Right within in his reach.)

Sans stumbled his way tothe bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, looking briefly at his brightlycolored skull. He looked down, turned on the faucet, put toothpaste on hishands, paused, looked back up.

“huh…?”

At first all he saw wasthe vibrant colors adorning the top of his skull. Cute little flowers of differentshades of red all clustering together with little balls of other red, berrylike dots. Green spiked leaves twisting with stems wove themselves together. Onthe top left of his skull, the flowers became even more clustered, merging intoone large, stunning pink flower that took up  the entire top half of his face.  He followed the flowers, seeing how theywrapped around his skull.

A crown?

“Oh…”

Sans turned around to seeyou standing in the door frame, two plates filled to the brim with pancakes anda glass of milk for the both of you.

You huffed, “I was hoping you’dstay asleep for a little longer…I wanted to see your reaction.”

“babe?” he said, “did—did youdo this?”

Once again, he turned backto the mirror. His fingers trailed along the pink flower committing it tomemory (And leaving a very sticky, oddly minty trail of something his sleep addled brain couldn’t quiet remember in its wake) . Occasionally his eyes would dart to your reflection, but he seemed farto entranced in his new decoration to really say anything.

“Well… I mean, they didn’tjust pop-ie up in the middle of the night, did they? I think that’d be awholly different kind of thing then say, me painting them on your skull…um… i.. zay… don’t have a pun for the last flowers…”

Sans chuckled. And, Oh,Of course that was it, “eye-zay-lee-a they look absolutely beautiful, doll.”

You lifted the tray alittle higher, hoping to hide your blushing face behind it.

“I—um— thank y—I got us breakfasttoo… you know? For bed.”

Stars, you really were perfect.

Horrotale  

Jupiter (Dogwood  - durability, constancy and undiminished love,sometimes forgetfulness/  Daisy- loyallove/ Narcissus- stay as sweet as you are/ Rose – unwavering love)

“havin’ fun there,starshine?”

You jumped, nearly sendingthe paintbrush right into his now opened socket as you yanked your hand back.

“Sans!”

“sorry sorry…” he said, closinghis socket, “…didn’t mean to scare ya… keep going… i promise i won’t be toomuch of a pain-t… maybe i can can-vas you i never even woke up…”

You smiled, “No, it’s fine.I just… wanted to surprise you…”

Sans snored, loudly and obviouslyfake. It pulled a giggle from you which, in turn, caused a grin to pull at hismouth. He tried to hide it, still intent on keeping up the whole ‘sleeping’charade.

It didn’t work.

“Alright, stay still.”

“still as the dead…”

You placed the brush backon his skull, and with a feather light touch to begin to work on your creation.

A moment passed between thetwo of you. Sans snorted.

“Sans!”

“… sorry… it tickles…”

Figuring this was a battlelost, you placed the brush down along with the palette of paints, “iI’s Ok. Iwas done anyway. Just wanted to see what I could fix before you woke up.”

Sans opened his socketsonce again, taking in the art supplies that surrounded you two. As you werecleaning it up he asked, “…if it ain’t too much trouble… I would love to seewhat was so a-muse-ing to paint on my skull.”

With a smile you presentedthe mirror you had placed off to the side for him. His sockets went wide whenhe saw the array of color, little white flowers dotted the outside of his skull,interchanging between daisies and something that he didn’t quiet remember thename of. They swirled around slowly forming into ones with a yellow middle thatdid one last loop around his working socket. There, the unmistakable paintingof a vibrant red rose bloomed.

Biting back the excited smile you had you waited…

…Only to feel your heartdrop as Sans began to tear up.

“Oh no I’m so sorry i—”

Arms wrapped around you.He pulled you against his chest and nuzzled into the top of your head with his verywet, very paint covered face.

“Sans!!

“hnnnnnn… starshine!!” Hewailed, “i—i loube yuh su-suoooooo much!”

[popatochisssp]

Snips & Snails 6/7

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus Chapter Warnings: none

It's been a rough road. It hasn't been easy to make it this far. ...But he did it. 

AO3 Link

PERSEVERANCE

Sans mulls it over for a long, long……long time.

It’s not the kind of thing you rush into, lots of factors to be considered, and honestly, he’s…a little nervous about what you’ll say.

But eventually, he builds up the courage to ask.

One night while you’re cuddled up beside him in bed, he gently nudges you and just blurts it out.

“i want a cat.”

Sans isn’t quite sure what he expects you to say, but you manage to surprise him anyway.

“Yeah? Okay, a cat sounds nice.”

“……really?”

It feels like it shouldn’t be so easy.

He feels like you should be…rolling your eyes at him, pointing out that you already have a pet, he doesn’t need another one.

(Sans never thinks that he had a bad dad, but it’s moments like these, when he’s surprised to be so quickly, unquestioningly supported that he realizes he probably didn’t… have a very good one, either.)

You make half a shrugging gesture and wriggle a little closer beneath his arm.

“Sure,” you say. “I mean, we probably want to be careful about personality, don’t want Buddy getting bullied too bad, but… yeah, we should be able to handle a cat.”

“……”

Sans elects not to answer with words. He figures his silent gratitude is understood in the way you snicker at his affectionate nuzzling.

“Got your eye on anybody in particular, or…?”

At that, it’s Sans’ turn to shrug.

“i’ll let ya’ know,” he says, and that’s the end of that discussion.

Sans is excited already.

-

You actually have no part in picking out the cat.

You’re out walking a new dog and Sans is in the cat room, cleaning out litterboxes and it just sort of happens.

Just like in the movies, practically in slow motion, he looks up and meets eyes with…her.

‘She’s a fine specimen of feline’…is something that would probably not be said about her very often.

She’s a little weird-looking, with a thin, sparse coat instead of a fluffy one and gigantic ears that don’t really fit her head and when she sees Sans looking at her, she screams at the top of her lungs—which is pretty damn loud, because those big bat-ears of hers don’t work and she has no concept of volume control.

Her loudness is actually what got her the affectionate name of…

………

Well, Sans can’t remember it now, but he thinks it was probably appropriate, whatever it was.

He also thinks that this cat has been here a pretty long time already, with no one willing to give her a chance.

And he knows instantly that she’s The One.

He feels it urgently enough that he finishes his task and then goes straight to her, scooping her up and carrying her into the lobby.

She sniffs and tries to bite the pen he uses to hastily scrawl his name on the adoption form, but then is perfectly mild-mannered as he pays the fee and probably spooks the receptionist by shortcutting home with his new cat.

Sans sets her down in the middle of the living room. Even knowing she can’t hear it, he still says, “go on, check out your new digs,” and slowly, cautiously, she does.

She looks around, taking a sniff of the carpet, the coffee table, the leg of the couch, and it seems to pass muster.

The real challenge is when Buddy’s head pokes out of the kitchen door, investigating the noise of somebody home so early in the day.

Sans watches them carefully as the two catch sight of each other for the first time.

He surprises himself with how much animal body language he’s picked up over the years and how well he understands what’s happening now.

Buddy’s ears are back, but his tail is slowly wagging as he comes on in—a little wary, but mostly curious.

The cat’s tail is straight out behind her, a little low, but not fluffed—not quite sure of what’s happening, but not scared, either.

Buddy approaches and when he’s finally close enough, he…sniffs her.

She sniffs him back and summarily decides he is a boring dog, like all the other ones she’s seen at the shelter, and ambles away to explore much more interesting things.

She’s not followed because Buddy goes straight to Sans instead, snuffling at his slippers in greeting of his skeleton-dad.

Sans grins so wide it makes his skull ache.

“good boy, buddy,” he assures him, giving him a real good scritch behind the ear.

No instantly flying fur and claws was a fantastic sign and he makes sure to give his little pal a cookie for being cool before tracking down his littler pal on her tour around her new home-to-be.

-

Sans can’t quite say it’s all smooth sailing.

Actually, aside from the meeting with Buddy, there’s not much smooth about her introduction into the house at all.

She knocks over three cereal boxes and a half-empty bag of coffee trying to jump on top of the fridge. She finds the laundry room and spends a good few minutes yelling at the washer and looking between it and Sans as if expecting him to explain himself for it. He picks her up and shows her the upstairs instead and she gets so excited about the new territory that she starts to rocket back and forth with the kind of Unique Cat Energy that usually only comes out at three in the morning, and…

Well, by the end of that, at least Sans has a pretty good name for her.

He asks if she likes it, but she just hops up onto his lap and starts kneading little cat-claw-sized holes in his already hole-ridden hoodie.

“you’re such a weird goof,” he mutters down at her. “you’re gonna do great here.”

She keeps on kneading and squints at him, the way you always say he does when he’s happy.

Sans doesn’t think he’s capable of making a face as cute as hers, but he guesses love can make even the ugliest of monsters seem cute.

And speaking of love, you’re walking in through the front door, smiling brightly at the sight that greets your eyes.

“Here you are,” you say, with a cute little smirk, and…

Oh.

Did Sans text you he was leaving, or did he just sorta…ditch you?

“……sorry,” he says sheepishly, attempting to cover his bases, but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “I figured something pretty important must’ve been up and it wasn’t too hard to figure out what when my husband and our resident noisemaker both disappeared at the same time.”

You come right up to Sans and the cat, unable to stop your grin as she cranes her head directly backwards to look at you.

She seems happy to see you and the feeling is mutual. You gently harass her, flicking her ears and letting her chew your finger a bit.

“How’s Banshee like the place, anyway?” you wonder.

Banshee, that was it!

But Sans doesn’t have to worry about forgetting that again.

“slinky likes it just fine,” he assures you. “already buddied up with buddy, even.”

You smile, but also… you know him entirely too well.

“She got that name for a reason, didn’t she?”

Sans shrugs, but he’s already grinning, anticipating your question.

You sigh. “Alright, alright, let’s hear it—why ‘Slinky’?”

“wasn’t lookin’ where she was goin’ an’ cartwheeled down the stairs.”

“Pfft! Hahahahaha, Sans…!” You scoops Slinky up and hold her to your chest, as if protecting her from him. “That’s so mean!”

“heheheheh, you’re laughin’,” he gleefully points out. “‘sides, it ain’t like she’s gonna come when we call. could name her ‘fartface’ if we wanted to.”

“Let’s…stick with ‘Slinky’ for now.”

“yeah, you’re right. ‘fartface’ is more of a middle name.”

Sans knows the punch-line hit you unexpectedly when you snort trying to hold back a wheeze and his soul feels fit to burst with pride.

You may not be the biggest audience he’s ever performed for, but you’re definitely one of the best.

And you’re hands down his absolute favorite.

-

Sans doesn’t miss his guess about Slinky: she’s a great fit for your home.

She…causes some collateral damage around the house from time to time—which Papyrus doesn’t particularly love—but she more than makes up for it by being the sweetest cat you could ever imagine.

One of her favorite things to do is just sit on top of people and purr. She does it to everyone in the house at some point or another, but she seeks out Sans’ lap the most and it’s…nice.

It’s especially nice for those times when you and Pap are at work and Sans is home, dissociating so hard that not even Buddy’s head resting on his feet is enough to bring him back around.

Lately, Sans has been coming back to himself with a dog at his feet and a vibrating cat-loaf in his lap, or just a little more rarely, some loud, insistent screaming and gentle paws bapping at his skull because it’s lunch-time and Queen Slinky has not been fed yet, the horror!

You make for a much kinder nursemaid than the cat, but… Sans thinks Slinky does a pretty good job, too.

At least good enough to earn her an extra treat or two on top of her meals, just because.

Slinky loops around your feet and yells excitedly when you get home, barely bullies Buddy, and as much as Papyrus gives her the side-eye-socket and refers to her exclusively as, “The Menace,” he always seeks her out and plops her onto his lap while he’s watching those soap operas he loves so much, and that’s more telling than anything else.

Sans is really glad he brought her home.

He feels like he made a good decision.

It’s a rare feeling, for him. It’s often felt like most of his decisions…weren’t entirely his own. Or weren’t decisions at all, just things he had to do.

But he didn’t have to get this cat: nobody told him to do it, nobody needed him to do it, nothing bad would have happened if he hadn’t done it.

…But life feels just a little bit nicer because he did and that’s…good.

Really good.

-

Slinky’s most hated enemy in the entire world is definitely the washing machine.

Something about the look or smell of it had already put it afoul of her, but then she had discovered something far more sinister about it.

Sometimes…one of you turned it on.

She certainly couldn’t hear it but she must’ve been able to feel its vibrations or something because her indignant, offended yelling could not be stopped on Laundry Day, The Most Awful of All Days.

Sans is recording this one.

“…aaan’ we’re live at the scene of the most clawful travesty catkind has ever seen—the washing machine is running. we go to our correspondent, slinky, for more. slinky?”

Slinky looks right at the camera of Sans’ phone. “MYAAAAAAAAAH!”

“harrowing. now, do ya’ think there is even the slightest pawssibility that you’re blowing this out of proportion?”

“MRRRRRAAAAAA!”

“i see. and ya’ can’t think of any way to put a better spin on this?”

“MRRRRRRRR.”

“well, far be it from me to tell ya’ what you should be feline in the midst of this catastrophe.”

Sans angles his phone towards the washing machine and the clothes and soap swirling around inside.

“yeeeep, me an’ slink are havin’ loads of fun here. might have to spring for another cycle just to keep it goin’.”

As if Slinky could understand him—or even hear him—she yells again and it almost sounds like the word ‘no.’

He loves this freakin’ cat.

“heheheh, c’mon, slink, get a sense of humor, m’only kitten.”

Slinky bats at the glass door of the washing machine, utterly humorless and very loud (as usual).

Sans sighs.

“guess not everybody appreciates the clean humor. maybe i gotta start workin’ blue?”

He stops the recording before he can laugh too hard at his own joke and texts the video straight to you.

He doesn’t expect a quick response, and he doesn’t get one.

You’re out—not at work, but at some sorta training class with Buddy. Sans thinks it’s to do with service dog stuff, something about ‘he’s gonna earn that damn vest’, and while Buddy’s certainly smart enough for it, he doesn’t totally see the point in it himself.

It’s important to you and your Justice soul, though, and that’s all that really matters to Sans, in the end, so whatever classes you want to take with your son is fine by him.

The (horrible, evil, no good) laundry is finished by the time Sans gets an answer.

You: LOL, baby, you gotta post that one!

………post it?

PUNbelievable: what, like…online?

You: Yeah, it’s really funny!

Sans is…honestly a little thrown by the suggestion.

He never thought of doing that before.

He wonders…if you’re just saying something nice, or if you really think he should do it.

And even if you do…you’re probably the most biased person he could ask.

You love him, of course you think his goofy cat puns and laundry jokes are funny.

He spares a glance at Slinky, already happily loafed and furring up the clean, folded sweatpants at the top of the laundry pile.

She’s the real star of that video, isn’t she?

Eventually, he settles on a response to you.

PUNbelievable: i’ll take another one next laundry day with just slink in it, give the people what they really want.

A weird, screaming cat seemed more like something people on the internet would actually wanna see, without his half-baked puns ruininginterrupting it.

But you insist.

You: No, it’s perfect, funnybones, just post it!!!

Three exclamation points—you really must mean it.

Sans still hesitates.

He spends a couple days mulling it over, resisting the urge to just ‘accidentally’ delete the video from his phone so he’d have an excuse not to do anything with it, but in the end…

In the end, Sans thinks that as biased as you are, he probably trusts your opinion more than his own when it comes to…himself.

And if you think it’s funny, then somebody else out there probably will, too. Even just one more smile out there in the world is something Sans has trouble saying ‘no’ to.

He posts the video.

And the comments flood in.

Most of them are exactly what Sans expected:

Not to be dramatic, but I would die for this loud goblin

 lol what’s with the ears? Is she gonna grow into that?

 why she screm at own laundry

But there’s also…

There’s a lot more comments than he’d thought that are…

That are…

 You’re pretty funny, dude, cute cat!

 The commentary really makes the video, I love this guy already

 hOW MANY PUNS DO YOU HAVE?! WHEN WILL GOD SILENCE YOUR SINFUL TONGUE

 ……Sans actually screenshots that last one, just to save.

But he finds himself coming back to the post every couple of hours, reading new comments and old ones, trying (and mostly failing) to remember if the number of likes had gone up since the last time he looked.

It makes him feel… a very familiar feeling.

It’s just a flash, but it feels the same as when he used to be able to do standup; when his skull was whole and he could retain a whole set, beat for beat, without getting mixed up somewhere or forgetting an hour in if he already did that joke or not.

All he did was post a little video, but looking at all these likes and comments makes him realize what’s actually happening here: that there’s real, actual people out there, hundreds of them, and they’re all looking at this clip with his weird cat and his silly puns and they’re smiling. They’re laughing, they’re having a good time and it’s…

It’s because of Sans.

He did that.

A thought slowly creeps its way into his skull.

That video wasn’t even five minutes long.

Sans’ short-term memory sucks, but even he can keep himself on track for five minutes.

It’s been a long time since Sans has felt this openly, unrestrainedly hopeful. The last thing that made him feel like this was…is you, the love of his life, and getting to feel so passionate about something again—after so long without it—is exciting beyond the telling of it.

The next time he’s home alone with Slinky, he pokes her belly, waking her up from a nap.

She yells at him, but he pays it no mind.

“hey, slink. ya’ ready to take the stage again?”

Because Sans thinks…that he is.

-

The next video he takes is of Slinky on her back and trying to rabbit-kick a cat-toy that she’s way too long for.

His punning game is cranked up to eleven and without anyone’s encouragement necessary, he goes right ahead and posts it.

The likes and comments come in a flood and most of them are still about the cat, but Sans doesn’t think he minds playing second fiddle to a feline with as much star-power as Slinky’s got.

He spends a long time reading over the stuff people have to say about him and his cat and almost every single one gives him that same amazing thrill of validation.

But his favorite is still the one you left on it.

LOL, what a goober. Like father like daughter! ;3

Sans looks at those words and the cute little emoticon and all he can think about is how amazing it is that he has all this; that he’s still around to have all this.

He’s alive and thriving, with a nice house and plenty of food in it for him, his brother, his human, and two pets. He has a family that loves him, he’s (more or less) stable, and now, he has a brand new hobby that’s giving him feelings he thought he’d never get to experience again.

Things are good.��He’s okay, and more than that, he’s…

Keys jingle from behind the front door and Sans knows that it’s you.

The second you’re through the door, he’s on you—sweeping you up into his arms and nuzzling the living daylights out of you.

You laugh, one of Sans’ favorite sounds in the world.

“Sans, what the hell,” you giggle in between smooching him back, but Sans just shakes his head.

“no reason,” is what he says, because there really isn’t one.

He’s just happy.

Maybe that’s reason enough.

Postscript to Fur a Good Time, Call…  

A/N: Sans, allowed to do things for himself? Getting to have things he enjoys, after years of getting pushed into stuff and barred from his own happiness?It's more likely than you think. ;3

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