Wanted to make an animation video when I did this, now Idk anymore x’D
BUT I rlly like how this turned out so am posting just so it doesnt sit on my folder til I decide to work on it again skdjhf
Skeletons who have bad histories with Muffets: how often do you interact with the nicer Muffets, and what’s that like?
Edge, Twist, Blackberry, and Red step forward.
Red, hands in his pockets, shrugs nonchalantly. “they’re fine. don’t hang out with ‘em much, but swap makes good cookies an’ shit. swell is...” He scuffs his foot against the ground. “she looked after slim, an’ i won’t ferget that anytime soon. but, uh, tale muffet? ain’t a fan ‘a hers.”
“CHERRY, WE NEVER DATED SERIOUSLY!”
Red just shrugs. “lace is cool, though.” He pushes Blackberry forward. “yer turn, squirt.”
Blackberry fumbles, obviously unprepared. While he fiddles with his fingers, Twist steps forward. “Don’ worry, bro—I got it.” He grins and shrugs, unconsciously mimicking Red’s posture. “I, uh, I don’ spend much time with ‘em, ta be honest. Try ta avoid ‘em if I c’n. Lotus ain’t too happy ‘bout that. I get it. Lace is ‘is friend. I, uh...I jus’ ain’t ready ta make friends. Not yet.”
Taking hold of a handful of Twist’s jacket, Blackberry says, “I don’t trust them. Any of them. I don’t want any of them near me or Papy!”
Edge is the last skeleton. He looks at the ground, his brow-bones furrowed. “I...” He speaks slowly, weighing each word. “...am trying to get to know the others without making assumptions about their character or intentions.”
They wait, but he seems satisfied with that answer.
“Muffets...More delicious flavour...all the food values of the whole wheat!” Toronto Star. September 26, 1930. Page 09.
---
Irradiated MUFFETS - The Whole Wheat Biscuit, product of The Quaker Oats Company
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Work at Muffets was just supposed to be a day job. You'd never expected to meet your soulmate.
Click read more for full story
Ding!
You sigh, pulling on your standard-uniform lace apron. Time to start work. Though you shouldn’t be complaining: waiting tables at Muffets was by far the best job you’d ever had. Your boss may be a bit stingy to outsiders, but she paid her workers and family well above minimum wage. Over the mere week you’ve worked there she’s already begun to treat you like one of her own, and had slowly worked you into the swing of things around her bakery. You know all the regulars by now, but have yet to see the infamous Papyrus. Away on a vacation with his little brother, you know him only as an entire crate of magic-infused honey stored in the kitchen, though his tab was well known as being ridiculously high around the district. But as much as Muffet complains to you about his antics, the fond look in her eye lets you know that he's a good friend to her; no matter what his ever-growing debt implies.
You’re pulled from your thoughts as patrons begin to flood into the bakery, and you skate back and forth between tables and the window, little spiders hopping to fill each order. A spider cider for the blue bunny at table one, a cinnamon bunny for the Gyftrot at table eight. Time droned on, though small greetings and check-ins with the regulars left a warm feeling in your soul.
Ding!
You look up at the door after setting down a spider doughnut and water on the table and wishing the smiling couple a good meal. A tall, lanky skeleton monster slinks his way in and over to a counter stool. You drop off one more order before skating over behind the counter and grabbing another notepad. He’s already helping himself to the honey bottle from the metal caddy, you note as you click your pen. Papyrus?
“Hello sir, my name’s Y/N and I’ll be your waitress today! What can I get you?”
Eyes meet eyelights, and the honey container (popped open to optimize chugging, you notice) drops to the floor, spilling everywhere. Your soul pounds in your chest, and you notice yourself glowing a slight white. As much as the spill demands your attention, you can’t bring yourself to pull away from the skeleton’s gaze. He doesn’t seem to be able to either, and the idle chatter of the bakery dulls into only the soft hum of the classical music playing from a jukebox.
“i-i’m sorry about that, i’ll pick it up.”
“No it’s ok, I’ll get that for you.”
Despite your words, neither of you break eye contact or move to clean. Your soul still feels as if it’s trying to jump from your body, and you find yourself involuntarily shifting your hand to your heart, as if to steady it. The bakery is watching, no doubt attracted by the pure loudness of your soul, not to mention the glow emitting from both you and him. It takes Muffet’s gasp to pull you from his gaze, though barely. Instantly, you want to return.
“Dearie…” The building is near silent, before a few people clap at the revelation. You’re left more than a bit confused as the crowd cheers around you, color flooding to your cheeks at the attention. The skeleton seems to feel the same, cheek(bone?)s flushing a pale orange as if to match his sweatshirt. Muffet chuckles and claps along, alerting some of her spiders to the mess, much to your dismay. She smiles at the two of you, using an arm to rub your shoulder proudly. “Soulmates… in all of my years, I’ve seen so few…”
Soulmates? You’d heard of them before in a documentary on monster culture, but you thought it was an exclusively monster thing. Though your brain wants to deny it, the tugging of your soul towards the still awe-struck skeleton across the counter is enough to convince you.
Ding!
“Hello Nicely, BP! How’s the stand?”
You rush over to escort the couple to their regular booth, promising their usuals as soon as they’re ready. Business at Muffets is booming, the location being moved to a more central location in the monster district. Over the year since you've started, you’ve been promoted to manager, and the regulars know you by name. In fact, you’re personal friends with the majority of them. Very personal friends with a certain one…
Ding!
Papyrus struts in casually, as if he owns the place. Muffet scoffs behind the bar as he confidently plops down on his normal stool, relaxing his legs on the two parallel. “Just because your significant other works here doesn’t give you the deed, Papyrus. Pay off your tab.”
You smile at their antics, plopping down a fresh bottle of honey in front of your lover, kissing him on the forehead. He smiles up at you lazily, and you skate away with a warm blush on your cheeks. The last year has been a whirlwind of emotions, love you never expected to feel for anyone. Through the good and the bad, your love for him has stayed. He’s the only one you ever want to love, and your soul demands the same. Somewhere along the way your logic hesitantly jumped on the bandwagon as well, leaving body and soul fully with your soulmate’s.
Admittedly, you’d taken longer to adjust than Papyrus. His culture adored soulmates, treating them like a gift from a deity. The idea of having no choice in the matter scared you, even more so when your soul didn’t want another choice. On top of that, you’re a human! A race that had enslaved his kind. But Papyrus and his friends and family were beyond supportive, consoling you through every negative thought and panic.
Soon, you knew that you would have chosen Papyrus even if he wasn’t destined to be yours.
After your shift, you take off your apron and hastily hang it on the hook, yanking off your tightly laced roller skates and wincing at your ankle’s complaint. Papyrus waits outside the staff room, boney fingers playing with an unlit cigarette, anxiety in his eyes.
“Are you okay? We don’t have to go out if you aren’t feeling well, you know.”
He jumps slightly at your arrival. How out of it was he if he didn’t feel your soul nearing? He wildly shakes his head, muttering something about “reservations” before leading you out the door and to his brilliant, cherry-red sports car.
Twenty minutes later, you find yourself in line for some boujee restaurant, feeling remarkably underdressed. You, in jeans and a plain shirt and him in his stained hoodie weren’t exactly on-par with the gowns and suits.
“we’re a bit underdressed, huh? my bad.”
“Why don’t we ditch? Go to a park or something?”
“thank god, i was hoping you’d say that.”
Turns out there’s a public garden nearby, and the two of you grab 7/11 ice cream and nachos before splaying out yourselves on the grass. The stars are gorgeous, and Papyrus sleepily shows you constellations, lighting up the path from star to star with fading magic in the air. You add in some of your own, and when all have been gone through you lay in silence, enjoying each other’s company. “I love you,” you mutter groggily, sleep trying to inch itself in.
“i love you too.” There’s shifting to your side, and you look over as Papyrus sits up, holding out a hand for you to take. He pulls you to your feet with subtle strength, smiling up at you as he kneels slightly. He shifts to only one knee on the ground, and your confusion turns into love and excitement as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black box.
“i’ve loved you from the second i saw you. though i guess that’s the point of soulmates isn’t it?” He pauses, smiling up at you fondly. “but that was predetermined love. i chose to love you too. everything from your smile, to your passion, to your outlook on life. you’re like nobody else and i don’t think i’d be able to exist without you by my side. so, uh…”
He pulls his soul out of his chest, the upside down heart glowing the tinted-orange white you’d seen before. Your heart jumps in your chest at the gesture, and he smiles and holds out a ring.
“it would mean soul much to me if you’d marry-”
“God yes!”
The ring falls onto the grass as you leap out and hug him, the gem gleaming from the starlight. Tears dot both of your eyes and you can’t stop shaking with happiness. Kisses seem to never end, and by the time you both untangle from the mess of limbs and teeth, the sun has begun to poke its’ head over the horizon.
