A collection of inane nonsense (ranging from Error being reincarnated as Palette to Dust finding a new love for the color pink) circling around the many AUs and Multiverses of the Undertale world. Some stories will be connected; Others will be rando...
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A/N: Eh. Not entirely happy with this, but I suppose it will have to do.
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Keys jingled together; Soon quieting before shifting to a deadbolt's loud click. The front door to the Underswap skeleton brothers' house opened inward, allowing a flurry of snowflakes to sneak inside. Quickly shuffling in alongside them was the lanky, orange hoodie-clad monster many knew as the youngest brother of the resident skeleton duo, Papyrus. Or Stretch, according to the Multiverse's many other Papyri.
A loud yawn escaped him while he hastily closed and locked the door behind himself, barring the Snowdin chill from snuffing the home's inner warmth. Then he kicked off his sneakers next to the doormat in a careless fashion that would no doubt make his classic counterpart faint in horror. And earn him his brother's patented "I'm not angry, just disappointed" expression. Something he had grown somewhat immune to, but only somewhat. Those looks were still highly effective when Blue wanted them to be. So Stretch tidied his shoes, placing them beside a worn pair of azure combat boots.
Usually, he may risk his brother's wrath by leaving them scattered about. Today, however, the lazy-ish skeleton thought better of it. The day had been bad enough with Muffet's being closed, forgetting to eat lunch, getting too distracted via puzzles (No matter what any Sans said, he and his fellow Papyri would solve the horoscope one day!), and having to walk home through the snow. (Because no food meant lacking magic for teleportation.) The last thing he needed was to be on the receiving end of Blue's disappointment on top of all that.
Though, I'd hardly be surprised if Blue found a reason to be disappointed in me despite my efforts. His mind helpfully added, It's just one of those days.
With a sigh, Stretch tilted his skull in the kitchen's direction. Light clinks from metal meeting metal followed by the consistent sound of oil sizzling echoed beyond the kitchen doorway. The mouth-watering scent of cooking taco meat and various other equally heavenly smells filled the air. Thus, prompting a few rumbly pleas to spawn from his nonexistent stomach.
