Lights Like Stars (Sans x Reader)

29 - Just Like Mary Poppins

In which strawberry purée is contagious.

Sans

Valentine's Day, huh?

The feast day of some saint who was apparently decapitated, and now a holiday dedicated to love and candy. At least, I think that's what this is all about. Haven't had much time to research it, on account of researching something else instead. My little Valentine's project might not seem like much to some people, but the fact that I'm off my ass and doing something might at least tell Checkers and Paps that I care about them, and that's what this is all about, right?

I've been thinking for a while now about what to do for Valentine's Day. Paps is easy: he's all about presents and he pretty much likes everything. But Checkers... of course I wanted to give Checkers something amazing; she deserves amazing, and I kinda feel like I need to impress her, I guess? But if I do that, the jig is up. She'll figure out how I feel about her. Can't let that happen. There's no kind of future for me an' Checkers as a couple, and no take-backsies if I change things. We'd never be the same as we are now, and that... of all things... I don't think my soul could take it if I lost what we have. It might dust me. Honest to god.

On the other hand, I can't just give Checkers a bag of chips and a card. Might be better for everyone if I did, but she's the best thing in my life aside from Paps and I just can't bring myself to blow her off like that. Besides, if there are some things an apology can't fix, a bag of Valentine's popato chisps is probably one of 'em.

Pull her close, push her away. I've been struggling so long to find a perfect balance point on this frickin' high wire that I'm starting to feel like maybe it's not even worth it. Maybe I should take a swan dive off one side or the other and to hell with the consequences.

But... no. There's still some goddamn life left in me and if anything kills me, it sure as hell ain't gonna be Valentine's Day.

I already hate this holiday with a passion and I haven't even celebrated it yet.

It's a fine line I've been walking, looking for something I can cram maximum affection into without it spilling over into overblown weirdness. Finally, I made the decision to use Paps as an intrinsic modifier: I'd give them both the same thing. I figured, if it's not weird for Paps, it won't be weird for Checkers.

And then I decided to bake cookies.

This shows that even the most carefully-thought-out decisions can be freaking disasters.

"why's it so runny? i followed the fucking directions!" The strawberry frosting which sounded so simple online dribbles from the whisk like milk. The cookies are about done, but until I take them out of the oven, there's no telling how they turned out. The kitchen looks like it used to back when Paps would cook using the Undyne Method. And I still have no idea what "cut into" means in this context.

The oven timer dings, and I open the stove to check the cookies.

Oh, hell. I might cry.

They're not supposed to be so... puffy.

And by puffy, I mean they look like little deformed cakes. I mean, they're supposed to be shortcake-y, but this is... this is...

"The Quasimodo Cookie," I grump, plucking one of the lumpy, round-topped objects off the tray to try it. It's hot. I drop it on the counter and blow on my fingers.

It bounces.

Surely that shouldn't fucking happen.

I groan a groan of utter despair and thump my head on the counter. Then I listlessly flick the oven off so I don't burn down the house, too.