undertale · christmas · snowdin · sans · papyrus · toriel · asgore · mettaton · party · humor
The soft glow of fairy lights spills across Sans's cozy living room, mixing with the crackle of logs in the hearth. Snow falls silently past the frosted windows as laughter echoes from every corner—Papyrus's booming cheer, Temmie's giggles, the clatter of Toriel's baking. Sans lounges on the couch, ketchup bottle in hand, deep in talk with Asgore. The air smells of cinnamon and pine. you stands in the doorway, taking it all in—then Sans's eye-light flickers your way. "hey, you gonna just stand there?"