#he would be a spaghetti noodle with googly eyes

[lieutenantlashfaz]

Imagine Crowley being drunk and trying to morph into his snake form, but instead of a badass scary black snake he just turns into the black and red equivalent of an Arabian sand boa and he just sits there like:

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

hey 😘 do you think you could write a percy jackson x sister reader. it's totally up to you and i'm good with anything but angst/annabeth involved with percy. thank you!!

The Curse of Aphrodite

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Jackson!Reader

Warnings: implied in*est, sibling in*est, Aphrodite being petty

Words: 1866

Summary: You should have feared Aphrodite just as much as you feared Ares. She was terrifying, and her revenge might as well have just ruined your life.

(This is an older fic from my A03 but figure it was perfect for this request :>)

Another hectic day of being a demigod. Trying to keep a low profile from monsters and worst of all. . . getting through Valentine’s Day at school. All the pink hearts and cupids that littered the school’s halls was enough to make anyone grow nauseous. You and your brother Percy could only grin and bear it, for any grumpy comments might carry over to the Goddess of Love herself. She already wasn’t too pleased with Poseidon’s twins. Sure she was willing to give you and Percy advice last summer in that hellish junkyard, but it was for her own agenda and you didn’t like that one bit. And of course as all your friends were well aware of, you wore all your emotions on your sleeve. Including your distaste for the love goddess. Aphrodite saw it bright as day. Used to being adored by millions, she didn’t take too well to your disdain. For even though she let you and Percy out of her limo, you caught her once fluttery eyes ice over when she looked at you. You really should have listened to Annabeth and keep a mask on when you interacted with the gods.

Now you were going through one of the worst days of your life, and that's saying a lot. Everything that could go bad, did. And poor Percy was stuck with you for the entire ride.

“Here.” Percy handed you a slightly dampened paper towel.

Grumbling a ‘thank you’, you take it and dab the front of your shirt that was stained with spaghetti sauce. Your face was still red from the humiliation. Everyone had seen in the cafeteria how your tray of spaghetti seemed to explode onto you.

Percy had helped you clear a few noodles that had landed in your hair.

Gritting your teeth, you begin to rub furiously. “It HAS to be her. Of all freaking days!”

“You should have just been nice to her.”

“Not my fault that you were the googly-eyed one in front of her. That’s how her power works because guys don’t think with their brains!”

“Suiting since Ares doesn’t have any brains.” Snidely remarked Percy with a coy smile. Putting himself at risk just to make you smile was enough to make you dryly chuckle. Percy didn’t have it easy either. Him and Ares had been butting heads ever since your first summer at Camp Half-Blood. He should have feared the animosity that Ares possessed toward him. That was certainly one god you didn’t want to mess with.

Finally admitting defeat, you throw away your paper towel and simply sigh. “Can’t we just ditch for the rest of the day?”

As if he had been debating the same thing seconds ago, Percy easily replied “Mom would kill us. We already have a truancy record here anyway. We just have to push through it.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear. Hearing it out loud made you want to cry out in frustration. Sitting on the dirty hallway floor next to you, Percy throws an arm over your shoulder. “We’ve been through worse days. In comparison, today is just an annoying hiccup.”

“Even fighting monsters I never had to deal with smelling like cafeteria spaghetti.”

You feel Percy begin to sniff you like a dog, prying a giggle out of you. “I don’t know. It’s not such a bad smell. I happen to like cafeteria spaghetti.”

Rolling your eyes, you offer “Want to switch shirts then?”

“No way!” Percy laughs. “I wouldn’t even be able to squeeze into it.”

Simply imagining Percy stretching out your shirt was enough to make you snort. You had always been the one with a temper and prone to dark moods. Percy, without fail, could find a way to make you laugh. He was your twin after all. No one knew you better than Percy did. He knew the inner workings of your mind and the remedies to whatever ailed you. Claiming it was his duty as the older twin to take care of his younger sibling. There was pride in his voice when he told you that.

“Thanks Perc.” you quietly whisper.

“No problem (nickname).”

That made you groan again. “I told you not to call me that in public.”

You help eachother up once the bell rings and sling your backpack over your shoulder. Of course as students swarmed the halls to get to their next class, many stared your way.

Percy squeezes your hand before leaving you for his own class. “Remember, we’ve been through worse than this.”

Nodding, you squeeze back in return. You were a daughter of Poseidon for crying out loud! Aphrodite didn’t scare you one bit. She can go ahead and make your clothes a mess as much as she wanted. You had fought deadlier monsters than the Lady of the Doves.

Glaring at a sparkly cut out of cupide, you internally challenge her.

Children of Poseidon truly did have seaweed for brains. When you thought you had made it through the school day, there was a storm waiting for you on the walk home. Not an actual storm thankfully, but one that would ruin your life regardless.

Outside of school there was hardly any reminder of the hallmark holiday except for a few flower vendors at each busy corner. Bouquets of red, white, and yellow roses were being sold by the dozen. Store window displays were decorated with multiple shades of pink. At least you were almost home where you could safely hide in your room, put the entire day behind you.

At one corner, Percy presses the crosswalk button while bouncing on his heels impatiently. You look across the street, past the zooming cars to see more street vendors selling Valentine’s Day treats and other cheap trinkets for desperate partners.

Crosswalk light alerting you that it was safe, you and Percy make your way to the other side.

Even though you hated the holiday, you enviously eyed the tasty looking treats for sale. Cookies shaped like conversation hearts caught your attention. They were well made and utterly cute.

Percy stops and looks over your shoulder. “You want one?” He picks up a cellophane package that had two of the cookies comfortably inside, tied off with a red ribbon. There’s even a blue one in here!”

Shocking, Percy liked the blue one. It made you smile how he would never change at least in that manner.

You scooch closer to your brother to read the icing on them. The blue cookie was on top, reading: Be Mine. The other one you couldn’t see as it was hiding behind the top.

“You two make such a cute couple.” An older lady with a knitted lilac beanie atop her crazy curls smiles at you and Percy.

Inwardly you vomit. “Actually-”

“We’re not-” Percy’s voice reacted at the same time with your own protest but the older lady just laughs.

“Aw to be young and shy. Because you two are so cute, I’ll give you them for free!”

Both you and Percy are quick to protest but they fall on deaf ears as she pushes the cookies further into Percy’s hands.

“I insist!”

Glancing at Percy you know he was just as exhausted with arguing with her as you were.

“Um, okay. Thank you so much.” Awkwardly, Percy unzips his backpack and places the cookies safely inside.

Grabbing his arm, you start hurrying the both of you away. “Thank you! You’re very generous!”Once you’re out of her hearing range you shudder. “Couldn’t she tell we’re related?”

“Probably not with those big, pink tinted, sunglasses.” Shrugs Percy. “At least we got free cookies out of it!”

“I’m kinda skeptical about them now.” Warily you shift your attention to his backpack. “It doesn’t make sense that she just let us have them for free.”

“Don’t knock on the first good thing that’s happened to you today!”

Exactly. It was too good to be true. If Annabeth were there, she would agree with you.

When you got home however, the smell of the cookies was simply too good for you to ignore.

Percy handed you the one that had been underneath the blue cookie. The icing was yellow, written on it simply: Love.

You inhale the sweet scent before biting into a corner. Percy hadn’t waited around to eat his cookie like you had.

“That has got to be the best cookie ever.” He comments through a semi-full mouth with cookie crumbs dusting the front of his shirt.

They were amazing. So delicious, you wished you had more to munch on.

“We should have gotten one for mom.” You mention while collapsing on the couch, remote in hand. Homework could wait. You needed to de-stress after the day you had. Your brother didn’t answer you as he had ventured to your shared bedroom. Not paying much attention, you flip through the channels. Down the hall you were able to hear Percy shuffling around the room.

And then a gagging noise.

You sit up. “You okay Perc?”

More gagging had you bolting from the couch and into your room where Percy was on his hands and knees. Back arched, his dry heaving continued.

“Per-” Oh no. A nauseous squirming sensation bubbling in your stomach. Incredibly uncomfortable, you brace yourself against the door frame. Your vision was spinning. For some reason, a memory popped into your head. You, sitting in the back of a limo, arms crossed while your brother did everything in his power to resist Aphrodite’s charm.

”Twins are so special.” She had said. “Have you heard the legend behind twins? They say lovers who commit suicide are reincarnated as twins. Isn’t that romantic?”

Just thinking of her voice made a shiver run through you.

Then it just stopped. Nausea gone and head back to normal, you open your eyes to find Percy recovering too. “Those stupid cookies. . .”

“I told you.” You remark with a small smile. Watching as your brother rolled himself into a sitting position, you run your hand over your forehead. Maybe you should call your mom so she could take you to the hospital. There was clearly something in those cookies. Perhaps you would even get sick again later. If you induced vomiting that should be enough to get it out of your system right?

“(y/n). . .” You heard Percy breathe out and you fear he’s about to feel sick again. When you look at him though, he’s staring right back at you with those gentle sea foam eyes of his. They were sparkling, a misty awe to them as your own heart fluttered in your chest. That’s when you felt like you were floating.

Percy blinked, unable to lift whatever spell the both of you were under.

You think back to your own cookie.

Love.

How stupid you had been. Aphrodite. Of course it was Aphrodite, and this was her curse. She must have been in disguise as the vendor. What a naive child you still were; you should have feared her just as you did Ares. Her vengeance was much more evil. For she could warp the sibling love you had for your twin. Warp it into another Greek Tragedy.

[craftpunktabby]

I'm bored and really like the idea of Wambus having a spaghetti dog. Spaghetti dog was named Noodles by Gramble, but Wambus refused to call it by it's name since it's dumb to name something you're not going to keep and it doesn't even recognize Noodles as its name (not enough time had passed for the name to stick). So he called it a thing then started calling it Dog as he warmed up to it and then when he fully accepts that this is just a weird looking dog and he can't just give it away, he gives it an actual name. But he took too long and the Spaghetti dog now thinks it's name is Dog. He secretly regrets not just calling it Noodles from the start and Gramble is seriously judging him that he named this poor thing Dog. Well I guess depending on if Triffany's here, she would have used cute pet names and maybe one of those stuck. As funny as I think having it be named Dog or Spaghetti Dog and how it's fitting that Wambus unintentionally gave it the most generic name possible and then proceeds to double down when people ask about it, I couldn't think of a name. So anyone who has an idea of what this Spaghetti dog should be called please share :)

I see this dog being one of those breeds that look like a mop. Wambus tried tying the noodle/fur covering its eyes up thinking if it could see better it would become more aware of it's surroundings. Only to find out it has fricking googly eyes. As in actually slides all around whenever it moves like actual googly eyes. It bounces between being cute and creepy. Does not help that no one is really sure if it blinks.

There was a period where Wambus thought Spaghetti dog was pretending to be really dumb because he could not believe how it could get lost so quickly in his not that large crops. It takes a few steps in and they're screwed. Wambus has to constantly go in and retrieve them. Wambus also can't wait for Spaghetti dog to turn back into a normal dog so he doesn't have to keep going out to save them from the birds. Spoiler Spaghetti dog will continue to get bullied by birds even if they were a normal dog.

[faerytale-au]

Promises and Tokens

Word Count: 4,117 Third Prompt Place: After “The Shopping Trip” Rating: T Cross Posted to ao3 here!

“What’s a wedding like here?” Sans’s sockets snapped open, his eyelights drifting over to Frisk curiously from where his head rested in her lap, her palm gently running over the curve of his skull where a faint blue blush rose unbidden at her question.

“uh, it’s a bit different from a human one.” 

Frisk hummed and Sans could only stare at her waiting for a response but as the silence stretched he realized she probably wasn’t going to simply give him one and he reluctantly sat up to face her. “why are you asking?” 

Her face turned crimson. “I was just curious, aren’t you?” 

Sans gave the impression of a raised brow as he looked down thoughtfully before slowly looking back up at her in consideration. “never really thought about it before. is that something you’d want?”

Frisk didn’t know what to say or how to take his question. Her tone was a bit shaky and her heart picked up a quicker beat as she spoke in a low volume. The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable.

“Would you want that?” Sans looked at her with a slow blink, his expression the closest thing to a deadpan Frisk had ever received from him, and then gave a too casual shrugged.

“eh, i didn’t want a lot of things until i met you.” If Frisk hadn’t been blushing before she most certainly was now. 

Sans gave a knowing smirk before chuckling and speaking seriously. “if you want a wedding i’m not against it. not my cup of ketchup really but if it’d make you happy sure.” 

Frisk’s heart practically burst form her chest.

“Really?” The surprise and breathlessness in Frisk’s tone made Sans’s own soul give a furious thrum against his ribs. 

If he’d known she would’ve been this excited at the whole thing he would’ve considered doing it a while back. They’d been together a while now, were both head over heels for each other and she got on great with Papyrus.

There wasn’t any sort of reason why they shouldn’t.

“yep, if you’re willing to.” Frisk’s eyes went wide joyfully. Sans almost felt bad at how quickly they lidded as he continued. “the seelie way is complicated though.” 

Complicated. 

If there was one thing Frisk had learned to be wary of in the Seelie Realm it was of the word complicated. Whenever Papyrus or Sans used that in conjunction with something it usually meant the whole issue was going to be more difficult than it had to be.

“Is it because I’m a human?” Sans despite himself let a snicker out, quickly stopping with an awkward cough at how Frisk puffed her cheeks out in a pout. He smiled apologetically.

“nah, it’s more like we’d have to go out and track down tokens for each other within seven days. the item has to reflect an inner quality that the giver sees in the one receiving it, and if your soul approves of it then we exchange vows.” Frisk tilted her head in confusion.

“It sounds like a normal wedding.” 

She watched as a sweat drop visibly slid down the side of Sans’s skull, his eyelights shrewdly darting off to the side while his normally easy going baritone came out a hesitant drawl. “not really babe.” 

However he quickly changed his demeanor as he took Frisk’s hand and ran a thumb across the back of it silently, as if savoring the suppleness and soft texture of it, before looking into her golden eyes with a soft haze to his eyelights. 

“so, do you want to marry me?” 

She felt her blood pound in her veins with how much love she saw in his sockets. Frisk had to hold back the happy squeal that almost slipped out of her mouth and instead placed her other hand over top his. “Yes.” 

They both smiled softly, both their faces flushed red and brilliant blue respectively as the thought of what they were about to do settled on them. 

Marriage. 

Frisk had never imagined she’d get the chance to have such a thing and Sans though he’d never really given it much thought could do nothing but find the idea appealing as his hand subtly tightened over Frisks.

And as they slowly started to lean in--

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!” They both jolted and whipped around to stare at a googly eyed Papyrus standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his pink apron and skull dotted with tomato sauce beside an equally messy Undyne. “THAT’S HOW YOU FINALLY DECIDED TO PROPOSE SANS!?”

Frisk bit her bottom lip to keep from giggling as Sans rubbed the back of his neck. “i did propose though.” 

“AT HER INSISTENCE.” Papyrus stated dully as he crossed his arms. 

Frisk felt Sans’s retort building in his non existent throat before his sockets had even creased in the corners, and apparently Undyne did too as she took a blatant step back from Papyrus. 

Frisk and Undyne’s clear preparation didn’t phase the shorter skeleton in the slightest.

“but, i did marriage it.” It was so bad, just lazy and awful how he’d simply repeated himself with the small word play. 

But it was more than enough to cause a pot of spaghetti to go flying towards him. 

Frisk dived sideways and Sans’s eyelights only managed to shrink to pinpricks as the pot landed over his head with a clang, smashed tomato and soggy noodles falling down to coat his shoulders and front. 

There was silence.

Then with practiced and elegant grace Frisk watched from where she lay on the floor as Sans simply lifted a phalange under the pot’s brim, the slurping of a noodle loud within the metallic echo. “mm used the mushroom sauce this time bro?”

Papyrus sounded unimpressed but he was grinning rather smugly, cleaning the mess later was going to be worth it for the sight of Sans wearing a pot for a hat. 

“YES.” 

~~

Frisk was frowning from where she sat. 

Her eyes were focused on nothing as she contemplated what kind of token would represent her and that Sans would seemingly accept. 

Truth be told she hadn’t the slightest clue what to get him, he’d liked the broach she’d gotten him ages ago, but that was a broach. 

Not something supposed to reflect his innate quality that she saw in him.

There was just so much.

What did Sans see in her? She wondered offhandedly. Had she ever asked him really? 

The questions weren’t helping in the slightest. It was already three days into their week and she hadn’t even left the house. But then again she hadn’t seen Sans do so either and he didn’t look as if he was in a hurry, still sleeping and lazing about like he normally did.

But he could teleport…

No she had four days left, it was fine!

“FRISK?” She blinked from her zoned out haze and looked up at Papyrus curiously.

“Oh hey Papyrus, something wrong?” His sockets were creased worriedly and both of his hands were on his hips as he peered at her. 

Looking slightly confused himself he gave a small tilt of his skull. “I SEE YOU’RE STILL SITTING ON THE COUCH...CONTEMPLATING.” 

She did not like the way he drawled the last word. How uneasy and nervous it sounded to her ears. She was clearly missing something.

“Yeah I’m just thinking about what kind of token to find.” 

Papyrus didn’t say anything and that only made the little hairs on the back of Frisk’s neck stand on end.

“What?” Papyrus folded his arms.

“IT’S BEEN A FEW DAYS, YOU SHOULD ALREADY BE OUT LOOKING.”

“I still have four days.” Frisk tried with a raised brow. 

Papyrus pinched his nasal ridge. “HE DIDN’T TELL YOU.” 

Frisk felt her lungs deflate and heart sink to her toes. Yeah she was definitely missing something and judging by how exasperated Papyrus looked it was something important. 

What hadn’t Sans told her? If it was so important why had he merely continued acting normal around her the last few days?

“Tell me what?” Papyrus let out a sigh.

“IF YOU DON’T FIND A TOKEN BY THE SEVENTH DAY YOU CAN’T GET MARRIED.” Her throat locked up. “EVER.” and Frisk’s world shattered like glass so loudly she swore she could hear the splintering of reality from where she sat.

Why hadn’t Sans said anything!?

“Ever!?” 

Papyrus tried not to flinch at how her question came out a whimper.

“IT’S CONSIDERED A BAD OMEN AND A SIGN THE PAIR AREN’T MEANT TO BE TOGETHER.” 

She was going to kill her fiancé. 

“SO I SUGGEST--” His words were cut off by the sound of the front door slamming shut, the vibration sending a shock up to his patellas as he blinked at where Frisk had been seated only a moment before.

That was faster than he’d expected.

“heh, she finally took off huh?” 

Papyrus’s vertebrae made a loud and ominous creaking sound as he looked over and down at his smirking brother. The shorter Seelie staring at the front door with an amusement highly inappropriate to the situation.

“WHY PRAY TELL DID YOU NOT TELL HER?” Sans snickered.

“didn’t want to pressure her or anything. can’t have the bride running off y’know.” Papyrus glared.

“WAS THAT A PUN.” It wasn’t even a question just a dulled statement as he turned to fully face his older sibling. Sans’s sockets creased in mirth and his eyelights brightened as he gave another shrug.

“just being honest bro, ‘sides i didn’t know how to bouquet the news to her.” Papyrus threw his hands up and with only a frown picked Sans up and tucked him under one arm, the satisfaction of Sans’s surprised grunt making the expression flip up into a smile.

“HAVE YOU FOUND YOUR TOKEN AT LEAST?” Sans let out a falsely put upon groan that Papyrus easily ignored as he turned down the hallway.

Sans’s smile was soft. “yep, found it the same day we agreed to this whole thing.” 

Papyrus was so shocked he stopped walking to look down at the bundle of lazy bones he carried. Sans though had already shut his sockets and let out a loud and obnoxious snore the moment he sensed his brothers sockets on him. 

Papyrus gave a shrug. He could tell his brother how proud he was of him later.

~~

Frisk blinked down wearily at the rings the merchant held out for her. None of them she could relate to or find appropriate for her skeleton. 

Awkwardly she looked up at the shopkeeper and tried not to let her anxiety show.

“Are there any more?” The wolf Seelie gave a gentle shake of his head and Frisk felt her shoulders slump. 

“May I ask what it is you’re looking for my dear?” The older creature questioned.

“I’m looking for a marriage token.” The wolf’s ears perked up and his maw shifted into what Frisk could best make out as a grin.

“Congratulations! Who’s the lucky partner?” 

Frisk blushed. “Uh, Sans, Sans the skeleton.” 

The Seelie’s eyes went wide before an uproarious laugh abruptly filled the store causing Frisk to jolt in place as she watched tears slowly gather in the dark brown eyes currently hidden behind gray furred lids. 

What was so funny?

It took a minute of her simply standing in place feeling gradually more awkward until the wolf Seelie’s laughter slowly died and he gasped for fistfuls of air, a single clawed finger coming up to wipe away a stray tear as he focused on Frisk again.

“Sans the skeleton getting married? Wow, who’d have thought!” Frisk’s brows furrowed. But the store owner quickly waved a paw dismissively. “No offense, just pictured that brother of his being the one hitched not him.” 

Frisk chuckled, because even she could admit marriage seemed more Papyrus’s cup of tea.

Which only made this whole thing more precious to her.

The Seelie cupped his muzzle in thought before raising a brow. “You are aware that tokens don’t have to be rings specifically right?”

Frisk’s blank look was telling and the wolf let out another chuckle before holding up a digit as he ducked down behind his counter, the sound of rattling and countless small clanging noises rustling before he reemerged with another tray.

Laid out before her were an assortment of necklaces and bracelets, even some earrings. 

The thought of Sans with earrings was enough to make her snicker and at the same time inwardly mourn how he lacked the lobes necessary for them.

“Some of these are considered popular alternatives. Truth be told you might find something in this more suitable than a ring, no wonder you blew through half the town before entering my doorstep.” 

Blew through...like a flustered and nervous tornado.

Frisk tried not to think about the embarrassing moment she’d accidentally knocked over a stall in her rush, the poor shop keeper had been so shocked they’d merely stared as she’d tried to gather their product for them. 

Her cheeks stung as she purposefully lifted a small tear drop necklace to inspect it.

It was pretty, a simple jade pendant on a thin silver chain. 

But nothing about it called out to her. 

The wolf eyed her indecision as she placed the necklace back down and lifted another, her face neutral and occasionally frowning the more he observed her. Taking a gamble he drew Frisk’s attention absently as she continued to peruse.

“Marrying Sans. Still hard for me to picture. You must be incredibly patient.” 

Frisk had a bracelet half way up to squint at but paused as she glanced up at the Seelie. His grin was friendly and wide with understanding, “Must also be very kind and forgiving too with that stubborn pile of bones. And a human mage no less. Don’t think anyone can say they’ve ever found someone unique in that way.”

She felt her heart give a small flip at the compliments and with a humble smile she knew right away what he was doing. But she still asked just to be sure.

“You think that’s what he sees in me?” He let out a snort.

“Has to be to get him to buck up enough to commit to a relationship let alone marriage.” She looked back down at the tray and stilled as something caught her eye. 

Slowly she reached forward and lifted a small slave bracelet; the chain was a delicate silver connected around three precisely placed stones that ran over the back of the hand and up to a loop meant to hang around the base of a middle finger.

Right away she recognized Moonstone.

And her chest warmed as it reminded her of home, it’s simplistic design something she related to with how plain she sometimes felt, but so pretty whenever she caught Sans sometimes looking at her with tenderness from the corner of her eye.

The stones shimmered in the surrounding light just the way she remembered the moon back home doing, just how his eyelights did lighting up with happiness and joy rather from a small moment of silent contentment beside her or during a scene of chaos from Undyne and Papyrus’s antics.

The bracelet screamed Sans.

The Wolf watched her eyes widen and he let out a silent hum. “Think you found it.” 

“How much?” Frisk asked excitedly.

~~

Sans was suddenly nervous.

He wasn’t showing it, purposefully kept his stance apathetic and detached like he normally did but inside he was terrified as his eyelights scanned the small gathering of friends and family all smiling and chatting excitedly. 

“Brother.” Sans nearly lept out of his clothes at Papyrus’s abnormally quiet tone but gritted his teeth as he looked over to his little brother who had leaned down to whisper to him. He was almost proud at how fancy his sibling had dressed up for a wedding that wasn’t even his own.

Papyrus was so cool.

“yeah bro?” 

His little brother had a small blush on his face as he kept his voice discreet. “Your Magic Is Spiking.” 

Sans’s eyelights shrunk and he took a moment to temper down the surging he could feel in his leylines. Only letting the specks of light enlarge again once Paps gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

Welp that was something he was sure he was going to be teased about later. 

“my bad.” He muttered. 

Sans hadn’t expected the actual ceremony to be when he suddenly got a dose of the wedding nerves so many had often talked about. He wasn’t scared of tying the knot he was sure of it, just thinking of being with Frisk like this made him practically giddy, but the thought that she was settling down with him…

He felt so undeserving but so lucky.

The murmuring died out and Sans felt his soul palpitate as he suddenly spotted the bride to be.

Frisk stilled at the end of the aisle, her eyes big and bright as she took in the thick carpeting of multiple differently colored petals leading down and up to Sans; the skeletal Seelie grinning with a navy blue blush beside his brother. 

They weren’t dressed up, there was nothing out of the ordinary to signify it was a wedding other than the many hushed faces and position Sans stood waiting in, his eyelights bright and nearly taking up the whole of his sockets. 

But yet it felt so significant to walk down the path in front of her, the other Seelie present all displaying feats of colorful magic in her passage like a chorus of fireworks until she stood beside her groom. 

Sans leaned close enough to whisper, “you look stunning. careful, my wife might not like that.” 

Frisk let out a small snort and automatically any nerves she’d been feeling vanished as Papyrus coughed and moved between them. 

Both their hearts and souls were racing as he spoke up. “TODAY WE BIND A NEW MEMBER TO THE SKELETON CLAN. WOULD THE ONE INVITING THIS UNION PLEASE PRESENT THEIR TOKEN OF ADORATION?”

Frisk’s heart was in her throat as Sans shot her a wink and reached into his pocket, his other hand extended out to her expectantly with such patience she couldn’t resist trembling as she slipped her hand into his. 

Casually he reached up and flipped her hand palm upward before placing a ring in it’s hold. 

She stood there in confusion. 

Was he not going to put it on her? A glance passed between her and Papyrus who gave her a simple gesture towards the ring. 

She stared curiously as Sans released her and looked down to examine what she was looking at. 

It was a golden band, etched with faint knot work along one side that curved upward into golden tendrils that surrounded a deep red ruby gem. By no means was it large or gaudy, in contrast it was a simple if not petite stone that glimmered in the sunlight with an array of colors rolling within.

A hidden beauty much larger and enchanting than the way it appeared.

Her heart gave a hard and powerful slam in her chest that stole her breath.

Slowly she looked up at Sans who had begun to visibly sweat along his brow and she held the ring back out silently. 

There was a sudden cascade of whispers and Papyrus visibly stiffened beside her. 

For the briefest second Sans’s eyelights went out, his whole facade filling with rejection and she could practically hear his soul shattering. 

Frisk spoke quickly. “Can you put it on me?” 

Silence, quick and abrupt.

Slowly Sans’s eyelights came back but Papyrus was the one to speak.

“IS...THAT A HUMAN TRADITION?” Frisk swallowed thickly and bit her lip.

“Humans tend to put their tokens on the other, it’s something I always loved.” More whispers broke out before there was a small round of chuckles and giggling. Frisk’s face flushed but Sans’s smile stretched as he reached up and took the ring and her hand.

Gently and with a slowness relevant in it’s reverence he slid the ring delicately onto her finger, his textured phalanges lingering as he stroked against it and took in the way it fit picturesquely against her skin.

Talk about giving a skeleton a heart attack.

Letting out a small ‘heh’ he brought the hand up to his mouth and pressed a bony kiss against where the ring sat with a wink, feeling extreme satisfaction at how Frisk turned red at the open display of public affection. 

She was still so shy sometimes. Too bad though, being married he was going to be doing that a lot more often.

Kisses were addicting.

Papyrus, now relieved, continued from where he’d left off, only giving Sans a small side eye at the ill timed kiss, “THE INVITATION HAS BEEN ACCEPTED, WOULD YOU NOW PRESENT YOUR TOKEN OF DEVOTION?”

Frisk smiled as Sans released her and reached into her own pocket.

Sans’s sockets went wide and he put a hand over his mouth as he let out a loud laugh at the bracelet she held out to him. 

Papyrus and Frisk both shot him a look and he simply shook his head at the whole thing. 

She was too cute sometimes.

He only had to gaze at it briefly before he felt his soul thrum, the meaning and consideration in which she had selected it conveyed without barely a moment of scrutiny. 

It was perfect.

Sans grinned, and being mindful she might want to put it on him as he had done hers he couldn’t resist making a show of pulling his sleeve back before he held out his wrist. 

The gesture purposefully similar to what he’d seen human women do when expecting a kiss or showing off jewelry. He even playfully wiggled his phalanges for emphasis.

He was sure Papyrus was holding back from slapping him on the back of his skull.

Frisk chuckled and slowly slid the bracelet on him, looped it up to where it settled perfectly on his proximal phalange just above the joint with such gentleness he felt like glass beneath her touch. 

Sans felt so cherished it was enough to make his joints burn as hot as his face.

He gave it an experimental shake and was more than happy that it fit him securely. It would have been a bit awkward if it got tangled in his bones, last thing he wanted was Frisk potentially worried he’d be unable to wear it.

Proudly he captured her ring adorned hand with his bracelet one and laced their digits together. 

Papyrus stepped forward and tied a cloth over both their hands, Frisk watching with rapt attention as his socket lit up in an orange glow just as static warmth spread over where the cloth rested.

After a moment Papyrus’s socket dimmed and he pulled the cloth free to show a magical etching of both their hands in glittering orange, interlocked and glimmering with a blue ring and red bracelet adorning them.

She couldn’t help staring and feeling awed even as Papyrus spoke with a smile.

“YOU MAY NOW BOTH MAKE YOUR PROMISES.” 

Sans spoke first, his tone hushed and the most serious Frisk had ever heard as he took both of her hands in his and held them securely in his grip. He brushed the backs of them with his thumbs as he focused on her sun colored eyes.

“i promise a life full of bad laughs, nice friends, good food, but most of all endless love. i’m going to mess up a lot, but i will always do my best to make sure you’re happy.” Frisk felt her eyes start to water and she could see the liquid magic threatening his own sockets. “i’m yours, now and until i dust.”

She had to choke back the cry in her throat and forced her gaze to stay locked with his as she spoke through a nervous timbre. “I promise to cherish you and the life I have here, to make sure you and our loved ones know everyday how dear you are to me.” 

Her hands gripped his tightly. “I’m yours until I am no more.” 

They were both lost in each other feeling the racing of their heart and soul, too happy and content to acknowledge the sniffling and silent crying around them as the weight of their promises settled firm and absolute within their beings. 

Papyrus wiped a hand over his sockets before grinning broadly. “YOU MAY SEAL THE UNION WITH A KISS.”

He didn’t need to repeat himself.

Sans and Frisk were already in the other’s arms in a single heartbeat.

[indilwenofmirkwood]

Just Next Door--Chapter 10

Doubt

Phew, it's been what? A year? I never meant to take a year hiatus, so I apologize to those that followed/are still following this story. I lost all sense of where the plot was going and I suppose that regrouping took longer than expected. Hopefully this chapter will set up the rest of the story for what's to come the way I intended and I can get the ball rolling again.

Can be read below the cut.

On Ao3 here.

And fanfiction.net here. 

Before he could blink, the cold had settled over Boston. Snow was falling rapidly, piling up faster than powdered sugar across a French Quarter Beignet; it might have been beautiful if not for the thick layer of ice and mud that lined the sidewalks just outside his bakery door.

Phil winced, bracing himself against the cold blast of air that accompanied every patron that entered Sweetie's, the chill raising goose flesh as it swept the room, but, like him, everyone seemed grateful for the warmth once they'd settled inside.

He waved at the little white haired couple that had visited every day since he'd opened, a piece of apple crumble clutched between her shaky fingers and cheesecake in his. Sometimes, they did nothing but laugh, their heads bent low and their attention only on the other. Other times, they said nothing at all, content to simply bask in each other's presence as the world went on without them—even on those days, their hands were always clasped, always linked tightly together as they paid everyone else no mind.

Phil smiled wistfully.

Thanksgiving had come and gone, marked only by the delicious turkey his mother had made and her insistence that it was time to meet his girlfriend--she'd never been one to beat around the bush, his mother. Even now, Phil couldn't understand why the thought had made him pause, why his hands had grown sweaty, or why he'd stood, rigid and tense by Audrey's side as his mother had embraced her. Pepper had reassured him that Audrey was lovely and that the awkward silence that had permeated the room, was nothing more than Audrey's shyness coupled with his own nervous jitters, but he had his doubts.

After driving Audrey home, he'd returned only to find his family looking at him curiously, his mother's eyes glowing in amusement.

"This came for you why you were out," she'd said, holding a large card out for him to take. It was easy to tell that it had been made by the unskilled, but excited hands of a child and he grinned knowingly. It was a charming piece with its abundance of gold, red, and orange glitter and the hastily scrawled penmanship across the front cover. Phil assumed it was a turkey he was looking at, with its sparkly, off-kilter tail feathers, but the affect was somewhat lost in the crazed look on its face, courtesy of the googly eyes that had been glued there.

A strong rush of affection hit him square in the chest, even before he opened the card to find Skye's scribbled signature alongside Melinda's neat cursive. Phil could just imagine Skye bugging her mother until she'd agreed to sign--there was no match for his little agent when she was on a mission.

Even still, his mother and sister had looked at him strangely, but said nothing. Though it was clear, even to him, that they'd wanted to when he'd stuck the card on his fridge without a word, right next to the drawing Skye had given him ages ago.

'So what if one of his best friends was a six year old?' he thought with a shrug. Skye was honest, her happiness contagious, and he only wished that he could be as carefree as she was. But, most days, there was something nagging at him, gnawing at his gut in a way that left him feeling anxious and even Skye's bright disposition wasn't always enough to make him forget.

“Phil! Look!”

Looking up from his mess of flour and dough, his grin was immediate upon spying Skye with her pigtails dusted in snow and bouncing behind her as she ran around the bakery counter, to thrust something glittery out for him to see as her mother followed behind, a grin already in place.

It was an ornament from what he could tell, in the familiar shape of a pink and white cupcake.

“What's that for?” he questioned, wondering why it was of such importance as he nodded at Melinda in greeting, his distracted mind taking note of the slight tinge of pink to her cheeks as she watched.

But Skye merely giggled adorably. “For the Christmas tree, silly!”

'Of course it's for a tree, Phil. You're an idiot,' he chastised himself before trying again. “But why a cupcake?”

For all of his fumbling around, her answer was quite simple. “Because it reminded me of you obviously," raising one eyebrow in the exact way her mother would have at his stupidity. "Mommy and I pick out new ornaments every year for our tree. She says it's special and that I should always get an ornament that stands for something good that happened this year.”

“Oh--” he breathed, dumbfounded, but thoroughly touched. “And it represents me?"

Happy that he understood, Skye nodded eagerly, her head bobbing up and down rapidly as her mother looked on with a somewhat intense expression.

“I couldn't find a Captain America shield at the store, but I liked this one.”

Without even waiting for his response, she skipped into his arms for a brief hug he barely had time to return before she was switching subjects, completely unaware of the emotions he was struggling with. “What are you making?”

Looking down at his forgotten, half-finished cookies, he cleared his throat.

“Needed a few more cookies to last us the evening, so I decided to make another pan,” he told her, glancing back at Melinda at the register, who was no doubt glaring at Clint for refusing to take her payment, the latter with his hands in the air, but refusing to surrender. Phil rolled his eyes at their antics before turning back to Skye with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Wanna help?”

Immediately, she was back around the counter, begging Melinda in their shared plight. He could hear Melinda's whispered words that she had work to do, but he was desperate for a dose of Skye's happy exuberance to counterbalance his unsettled mood.

“I've got a laptop if you need to finish some work,” he interrupted, flashing Melinda a boyish grin. “And a wifi password if you need it.”

Her glare was now firmly planted on him, with one of her brows arched higher in question as Skye glanced between them both, eyes hopeful.

“Please, mom?” he asked, refusing to laugh even as Melinda's facade cracked and the corners of her mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Fine,” she conceded, “but I want that password for my phone as well and keep the hot chocolate coming. And maybe some of those cookies too when the two of you have had your fun.”

After whoops of joy and a couple high fives all around, that only earned a large eye roll from Melinda, Phil quickly retrieved his laptop from his office after giving Melinda the agreed upon information. He set her up next to a window in the back where they were working, in perfect view of the two of them, but well enough away from the immediate hustle and bustle of his employees.

“Come on Daisy, let's make you a baker.”

It was almost comical when he draped her in one of the bakery aprons, the normally knee-length cloth reaching Skye's sneakers; even tightening the clasp that looped around her neck couldn't keep the fabric from falling forward, but Skye was content with his efforts as she wrapped her braids in a much too large hair net, sticking her tongue out at him when he laughed as it drooped in her eyes.

Grabbing a step stool, she settled in at the counter as she awaited his instructions.

It was a new experience to teach a child, but Skye was an avid learner as she helped to crack the eggs and to measure the sugar out perfectly. Of course, that didn't stop them both from making a mess as Skye's elbows were covered in a mixture of dough and powdered sugar, with a streak of flour across one rosy cheek.

More than once he caught Melinda watching them with a smile on her face, before she'd turn away to focus once more on her work. Idly, he wondered if she was getting any work done, because like him, she seemed to be more interested in the peals of laughter coming from his work station than any true task she may have had to complete.

“Come on, Skye,” he urged the little girl after they'd rolled out their finished dough, pulling out a bin of nearly a hundred possible choices, “pick a cutter.”

“Any of them?” she asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Is it okay if we use two?”

Phil nodded, watching as she dug through the bin to pull out a Christmas tree and a pointed star, the latter his favorite.

Midways through cutting them all out, he changed topics. "Skye, do you and your mommy like Italian food?"

Wrinkling her nose at the odd question, she nodded. "Mommy likes noodles with that white sauce, alfred or somethin'."

"And you?" he asked chuckling, already wiping the powdered sugar off his hands and dialing the number for the bistro down the street, with the idea of a late lunch in mind.

"Spaghetti!"

"Good choice."

They were well on their way to finishing when the food arrived. Phil could feel Melinda's eyes on him from across the room as Clint delivered the food to her table, but he kept his head down as his coworker explained that the cost had already been taken care of. Skye herself seemed content to watch him work between mouthfuls of pasta after her quiet thanks. Taking the cookies from the oven, he set them aside, making sure to set them well away from his little baking assistant before he moved on to another task as they cooled.

"What's that for?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

"Fondant, right?" asked Melinda, as she abandoned her post by the window to take a look.

Phil nodded at Melinda's question. "For an 8 year old's birthday party."

"Why's it so...white?"

He laughed at the poorly hidden disgust in Skye's voice. "Well it won't be when I'm finished. It's going to be two shades of blue, but I haven't added the color yet."

"Oh," she breathed, the relief in her voice evident as she twirled another forkful of spaghetti, nodding as he pulled out a vial of food dye labelled cerulean. "Much better."

"I'm so glad you approve," he laughed, shaking his head. Turning to Melinda, he echoed his question from earlier. "So...you wanna help?"

She seemed confused and then downright horrified at his inquiry. "Oh, no. I have no creative bone in my body."

"Come one, Mel. It's easy and Clint is busy with another cake," he hedged, knowing that Clint would help in a heartbeat but not wanting him to. "I just need you to lift the other side so that I can set it down evenly."

Melinda looked skeptical. "That's all?"

"Cross my heart," he promised, dragging his index finger across his chest with a smirk.

He'd certainly meant for it to be all, but as they covered the first tier, he managed to talk her into doing the next and before long, she was cutting out small fish and circles in shades of green, white, and purple fondant without him having to ask. "What are these for?"

"Scales," he replied. "It's supposed to look like a mermaid."

Again, she looked skeptical. "Not exactly a Christmas cake."

"Not really, but her favorite movie is The Little Mermaid, from what her parents tell me. Here," he began, stepping behind her as he overlapped the dots in the way a fish's scales would be. "The white ones we'll paint silver and gold for a little variation."

Melinda, "hmm'd" in agreement as he explained, but her hands had stopped moving, her body tensing, and it was only then that he realized just how close the two of them were as the scent of apples filled his nose for the second time. Quickly, he stepped back but could neither hide his blush or the small rush of elation that filled him at the sight of her own pink stained cheeks.

He brushed it off, the idea that she might have enjoyed his proximity leaving him even more confused than before they'd stepped into his bakery.

They continued on in silence, but he couldn't help but notice that the air had grown thicker and that with each punched out circle or fish, Melinda grew quieter. Quicker than any of his trained employees, she had finished her task with unmatched precision that would have given even Clint a run for his money, and was gathering their belongings before he could get a word in edgewise.

"It's getting late and Skye's got practice early in the morning, so it's probably best that we go," she began, eyes focused everywhere but him.

He moved to open the door at the same time they reached the threshold and not reacting fast enough, he bumped Melinda's shoulder, causing one of her shopping bags to tumble to the floor and he watched as a shining, brightly colored object rolled across the tile.

Like Skye's, the ornament was newly purchased and while it was certainly to be used for Christmas, the sight of the striped, ginger cat haphazardly wrapped in a string of colorful lights was enough to leave him reeling.

'If Skye's is the cupcake, then the cat must be...'

His thought trailed off as he turned to look at Melinda who was doing her best to look unaffected, but was obviously embarrassed as she took the bauble from his hands.

"Mommy and I pick out new ornaments every year for our tree. She says it's special and that I should always get an ornament that stands for something good that happened this year."

For a minute Melinda lingered as if there was something she wanted to say, but changed her mind, choosing instead to whisper a soft, "Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful."

In the next moment they were gone and as he turned back to his workstation, with the intent to finish his cake, he couldn't help but feel as if his motivation had walked out the door with them.

Returning home that evening, Phil frowned at the dirt trailing a path across his wood floor as Audrey flitted about, her arms full of vibrant gold and red tinsel. The Douglas Fir had been delivered a few hours before and, in her excitement, Audrey had ripped into the boxes immediately, eager to decorate for the season.

Cap had retreated onto one of the bar stools, watching from a distance as if she was a madwoman; even the empty cardboard boxes and shiny garland couldn't entice him down from his safe perch.

Their first Christmas. That's what Audrey had said.

And she was happy.

'Why am I so...not?' he wondered aimlessly, his head beginning to pound with the first signs of a migraine.

Perhaps it was because she'd insisted they start a new tradition, with new baubles, new colors, and a tree that looked nothing like the one he'd grown up with. He'd never seen so much red and gold in his life and his frown only grew deeper with each added inch of glittery adornment.

Or maybe it was because his favorite ornaments, such as his popsicle stick reindeer from third grade with the red felt nose or his hand painted, puzzle piece picture frame that still held his first grade photo within it's green, mock leaf border, lay in a box in the closet, untouched and forgotten as Audrey added more to the tree. His past, his history, mementos of how he grew up—packed away.

Cap looked as equally appalled as he was, Phil noted.

Anyone else would have been excited, he knew. Christmas meant new beginnings, new promises...a glimpse of things to come, but he was confused, suddenly unsure if what he was seeing was the future he needed—or wanted.