Transmission, Intermission - [Sans x Reader | Old Version!]

19 - Material Girl

With half a week having passed since your godmother’s visit, it’s time to sit down and talk with her in a calmer manner.

The shopping district’s as busy as the roads you’ve just driven by, food courts the most bustling with the hour your phone marks: ten minutes past noon. Contraire to her punctual self, Brenda’s running late, though you settle for waiting ten more before sending her a message. You sit by an empty booth and take the last chair available in the row to avoid disturbing those who’re already eating. Then, you take your planner out, passing through a few pages until you find the right one.

Aside from your usual week, you had her visiting again this Friday, a meeting with Toriel regarding some plans she wanted to discuss with you on Saturday, and another one with Sans on Sunday to arrange the second step towards homeschooling Frisk while you managed to enroll them somewhere else.

It’s still hard to read that word, not for what it was, but for the fact that almost every school you’d tried to sign them up into declined having other guardians aside from you to pick them up. They declined Toriel just as much as they declined Undyne, all due to the new rules and regulations set up in schools since the monsters’ arrival. What Toriel wanted to discuss with you was related to that, though you hadn’t been given too many details as to what it was, exactly. 

You glance back to your phone to see more than ten minutes have passed by already, yet Brenda's still nowhere to be seen. You begin typing up a message, only to be interrupted by her call.

The device almost slips off your hands with how abrupt it is.

“H- Hello?” you answer, catching your breath.

She screams an accusation at you, not an ill-minded one per se, but one questioning over why you’d kept information hidden from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re that close to him already?” she asks, words jarringly loud. You have to turn down the volume despite it not being set on speakerphone. “So he's going to help you with Frisk? That’s serious boyfriend material, dear!”

Thankfully, she sounds happy.

Still, a correction's deemed necessary.

“What do you mean, Brenda?”

“Auntie Brenda, mind you.”

You huff and bring a hand to the side of your neck, tension consuming it. “Alright, Auntie Brenda… Where are you right now? I don’t have much break time left anymore.”

“Just go ahead and eat, dear. I’ll come over on the weekend.”

Right as you’re about to complain over her choices, she speaks up again, calmer than before.

“Or why not come over after you have lunch there?” she asks, words cooed. “You work close to him, right?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll stay here.” You can’t help feeling a little sour over her suggestion, reminding yourself you’d waited twenty-five minutes for her at the mall. With the call, it’s now five past thirty, giving you barely sufficient time for you to eat, let alone listen to her rambling over how she’d misinterpreted your relationship and how he was better than she expected. That reminds you over her well-meaning yet rough personality, making you continue with, “You didn’t bother him with questions about his job, right? He’s-”

“Why would I? He’s working an office job just like you!"

“He, what?”

You can’t avoid blurting that question out, the image of him working at the hot dog stand completely replaced by a blank canvas. You try to imagine him working an office job, but it's near impossible to. Even if he knew plenty on various subjects, the monotonous yet fast-paced ambience of a desk job didn’t quite fit with your view of who the monster was to you.