snuggles-and-struggles

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Talk to me gang. What're some underrated utdr ships? Romantic, platonic, secret other thing, whatever man. Crackships welcome as well

[snuggles-and-struggles]

This song is so spamtenna im gunna be sick

[snuggles-and-struggles]

I wish. To draw Stretch and Edge as African wild cat monsters. I think they'd be cute. Kitty cars...

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Forgot to post this lol

[snuggles-and-struggles]

There's this odd sort of mafiafell spicyhoney idea that's been stuck in my head a few weeks now. Figured I'd make a post about it as I have once again fallen off a bit w/ posting here regularly.

So, starts off w/ Stretch. Grew up in the city w/ his brother and a mostly absent father who'd already since passed. He’s not doing too well for himself and he’s starting to feel like a burden to his brother, so he lowers his bar for jobs and tries to find anything he could potentially do just so he could afford to move back out.

Lo and behold, he comes across...a frankly shady as hell job offer. Reads over it a dozen times, the parent company involved is owned by one of the most influential businessmen in the city, Snare Gaster. It's for some sort of...butler? Despite the odd phrasing, it seems legit, and the pay is insane, so of course, he submits an application.

Lucky him, he’s one of the few that gets accepted for the vetting process, ultimately leading to a proper interview. It's... extensive, to say the least, and the more he learns about the position, the more it sounds like a bad idea. He basically has to sign his soul away – a full nda and waving his right to any and all legal recourse should something happen to him while working. There aren't even any details on the job itself, just that he’s completely and entirely willing to do whatever they tell or ask him to, even if it entails bodily harm (?).

Yet, despite all of the massive red flags, it seems more like just covering their own bases than actually expecting him to do anything particularly extreme. Not exactly a butler, probably something akin to a sugar baby, and he'd be making enough that in a year's time he could quit and not have to worry about working for years, probably.

He ultimately deems it worth it, and proceeds through the process until he’s accepted for an interview with...Mr. Gaster himself, oh wow.

It turns out it is a "personal assistant" type of position, but he won't be expected to do any sort of business legwork, probably not even any housekeeping. The monster he'll be working under is rather notoriously difficult, hence all the stipulations, and he'll live on the property while working for them. They go over house rules and despite not even being particularly intense, Stretch can tell he’s being extremely closely scrutinized by Snare.

Well, whatever he was looking for he found, apparently, since Stretch got a call a week later that he'd been accepted for the position.

Unzooming the picture a bit, of course the monster Stretch winds up working for is Boss, but he’s not a typical mafiafell Papyrus at all. For starters, he’s a total shut in. He does a lot of technical and (remote) security work for the family, but he kind of super lowkey hates being mafia and it got to a point where he practically just outright refused to participate in much else after their dad disappeared.

Of course this leads to him becoming Super Depressed since he also can't just go out and live a normal life with the family's shadow hanging over him and his brothers ever watchful, controlling eyes.

Snare is hoping to find someone who can pull him out of his funk a bit and inspire him to accept his role in the family. And that's how he comes across Stretch, who of course, he deems to be a perfect fit.

Stretch has absolutely zero idea what to expect, but this massively tall, quiet homebody was...not it. By a long shot. Especially after going over precautions and what would be expected of him so thoroughly, he thought it'd likely be someone a bit...volatile, for lack of a better word. Not someone who doesn't even want him there.

Of course, Boss knows what Snare is doing and he knows none of it is Stretch's fault, so mostly he just tells him he can do whatever he wants around the house and mostly just wants to be left alone.

But, as the story progresses, and being slightly pushed together via threats from his brother, Boss starts spending more time with Stretch. They bond over computer nerd stuff a bit, and Stretch starts broadening Boss's horizons with things he'd never really had a reason to get invested in before (games, music, movies, etc).

Drama does crop up eventually, but predominantly the focus of the beginning of the story would be an incredibly slow burn as the two warm up to each other <3

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Which. Should I drawr first pls

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Happy pride month I'm thinking about spicyhoneyton again and I NEED to draw it. All three of them deserve to have lovey dovey sappy romance but also very funny to see all three of them together. The supermodels and their socks with sandals khaki shorts combo boytoy. Gomez Morticia and the guy they caught as he was exiting a 7-11 at 3am with nothing but a bag full of vitamin waters and one of those scary hot dogs they just leave on the heaters

[snuggles-and-struggles]

A mer/siren fic idea I've been rotating and not done any concrete writing for in any capacity:

Stretch and Blue move to a beach town for Blue's work. Frankly, Stretch isn't feeling it. The humidity makes his joints achey and it smells awful at least half the time. But he’s acclimating. And the lower points aside, the people have overall been friendly and he enjoys exploring the local flora and whatnot.

One day, he ventures further out than he'd realized, and he hears something softly in the distance. He moves closer, intrigued, but then the next thing he knows, he’s drowning. It's terrifying, he can't tell which way is up or down, his bones feel like lead- but something wraps around him and pulls.

And he breaks the surface. Coughing, choking, something pushes him forward and he recognizes arms, a person, someone saved him and directs him to solid land. He latches on to the rocky surface and, with their help, manages to get up onto it.

It's a few more minutes of heaving and shaking before he finally starts to get his bearings and looks around. He appears to be in some sort of cave, and his rescuer is another skeleton monster like him, or mostly.

But he doesn't get the chance to say or ask anything before the stranger starts apologizing profusely. He'd only been trying to lure him to the cave, he hadn't intended for him to slip, he'd thought the path was safe enough, is he okay???

"you're a siren" is all Stretch can think to rasp out, disoriented and shocked.

Immediately, the siren seems to puff up a bit, proudly confirming. And bewildering Stretch further.

As he recovers and they talk more, Edge, as he learns to call him, has been deeply curious about surface monsters for a long time. Not many venture this far out toward this little alcove, and of the few that do, mostly they're humans, which his kind view as more of a food source. But of course Stretch has nothing to worry about since he is a monster! Edge would gain nothing from drowning him to dust.

While this slightly unnerves Stretch, he feels this siren is being entirely honest with him, and he...is honestly charming, in all his strangeness. They talk a bit more, and ultimately Stretch agrees to return to talk to Edge more (though Edge is very reluctant to let him leave, he still does, after making him swear not to tell another soul).

And of course Stretch keeps his word. Edge is...funny. And sweet. And he seems to have no true concept of the terrifying power he wields is if he so chooses to simply take Stretch's will away. And the scientific implications are astounding. Monsters like Edge aren't supposed to be real, and just as Edge is curious about him, Stretch is equally if not more so of him in return.

I rotated a few various concepts of angst, like other sirens finding out about Stretch. Hunters finding out about Edge. Stretch dealing with health issues.

Also mulled the idea of either or getting their hands on a special necklace or smth that's imbued with a charm so that Edge can come on land with legs and stuff.

Specifically the continuation I'm favoring most is as Stretch gets more into supernatural stuff, he accidentally runs into some hunters who are passing through town, but when Stretch goes to warn Edge, he finds him on the beach. With legs. And Edge very excitedly tells him he'd convinced his brother to lend him the charm that allows them to walk amongst the surface dwellers! Isn't it great!! He wanted to try visiting Stretch for a change but man these things are harder to work than he expected.

And so now Stretch has to conceal Edge's presence because he's hoping this could actually work in their advantage. If Edge stays in his house while the hunters poke around his usual digs, they won't find anything and leave and Edge can return to the water easy peasy.

But of course things do not work out quite so lemon squeezy. Plus, Blue has no idea who this random guy Stretch brought home whose legs barely function is. Despite Stretch claiming he’s a good friend. And also trying to prevent Edge from finding out abt the hunters bc he doesn't want him to go after them either.

That's also the more lighthearted of the handful of continuations I was considering. But regardless of anything else of course they wind up being gay for each other and stuff. Happy pride.

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Idk why but I'm really into the camping thing rn. Thinking abt pre relationship camping, post relationship camping, big group trips, just the two of them, nature, peace, silliness, ough, love them so so much...

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Big group camping trip and some of the crew are placing bets on if Edge and Stretch turned in early to try stealth fucking but they're really just in their tent cuddling and trying to come up with increasingly stupid "scary campfire stories"

(Stretch wins when he pulls out knife guy and Edges eyes actually start watering with how hard it is to withhold laughing at how stupid it was)

[snuggles-and-struggles]

New fic <3

[snuggles-and-struggles]

I went to the papcest tag on my other account and almost yelled PLEASE why is this at the top of the tag 😭😭😭

[snuggles-and-struggles]

anover one

[snuggles-and-struggles]

A sad sad wip for you ✨

Folding the old knitted gloves over, he began passing them back and forth again. They had long since been worn soft, now warm from the handling, and he paused to soothe a thumb up the side. He couldn't feel the texture through his own gloves, but he watched the orange fibers move and give beneath the pressure.

A hand brushed his knee and he glanced up to the human watching him carefully. Faintly, a smile tugged at one corner of their mouth, and he wanted so desperately to resent the gentle pity in Frisk's gaze. Prodding the embers returned nothing, leaving him to the same, tired resignation that he'd been trapped in for years now. Sympathy, he reminded himself, not pity.

Sighing, Edge looked back down to the gloves. The thought flittered across his mind, wondering how many times before he'd held these gloves when another hand had been tucked inside. Fingers twining, the warmth there, spreading to his soul as he turned to meet that smile, those eyes, so much joy and love and happiness-

His breath hitched and he set the gloves carefully into the box on his left. Frisk's eyes followed him, but they made no motion to sign anything when he picked up a shirt, scanning it for only a moment before folding it and placing it in the box with the gloves. The gloves and all of the other clothes they were donating.

Minutes passed, but he stubbornly focused on his task, even when Frisk eventually stood, walking quietly from the room. They'd be back soon enough, so he cleared his throat, taking a slow steady breath as he lowered a cardigan to his lap. Funny thing, that he couldn't quite cry properly, but enough magic could strain itself into watery eyes and a few spare tears. Just enough to worry those around him. Never enough that he felt even the most remote bit better after.

With another deep breath, the emotions instead settled to the back of his skull in a headache, dull and easily ignored. The nausea had been waxing and waning all day, but it seemed to take that as a cue to stir up. He rubbed his aching sockets and started moving again.

The pungent scent of tea alerted him to Frisk's return, glancing to the doorway as they eased back into the room, stepping gingerly around the boxes. They smiled down at him but allowed no argument in the way they held a mug before him without asking first. He knew better than that anyways, accepting it with a low 'thank you'.

After five years he knew they were right. All of these things did no one any good gathering dust in closets, and Stretch wouldn't have wanted it this way. He'd said so himself. But when the day finally came and went, Edge couldn't find it in himself to consider.

Even now, settling another sweatshirt into the box on his left, he couldn't think about where it'd all end up. That didn't matter. No one here had any use for it anymore. Everyone else had already taken whatever they'd wanted, and Edge knew full well Rus had taken more than that because he'd been worried Edge would throw it all away in a fit of grief driven rage, only to regret it too late.

Choking on a strained laugh, he brought a hand up to pinch his nasal ridge. The feelings clogged his throat and he could feel one of those treacherous tears slipping down his cheekbone. His breathing stuttered, but he kept it level, and after a moment, he felt another brush.

Wiping off his face, he sighed unevenly, turning back to Frisk. They held up his mug in silent offer and he accepted it, finally taking a sip. The rim curled in a misshapen oval, some old thing Stretch had found at a flea market and proceeded to use near daily until another had caught his eye. It had a sun etched into one side, painted a yellow that clashed with the oatmeal tan of the rest of the obviously handmade mug.

He took another sip and set it aside. A motion caught his attention and he looked to Frisk, their hands levitating in the air for a beat until they started signing.

'You don't have to get rid of this much, Papyrus.'

He did though. What else could he do? Nothing. Nothing but ache and long and miss and then hide so he wouldn't keep hurting every time he so much as dressed for the day.

"What else would I do with it?" Too quiet, too ragged, but his magic felt strained and raw, despite having hardly talked at all that day.

They thought on this for a moment, looking around at the contents of the room in the cluttered mess around them. Frisk had come over early, helping him drag everything from the attic and closet into the bedroom for ease of access. Checking through the window revealed the sun had nearly set already.

A wave regathered his focus and he watched as Frisk answered, 'I've seen people make quilts out of clothes before. Or making glass art out of the mugs? You don't have to keep it all, but...'

Their hands slowed as they looked to the four boxes behind him. So far, he'd placed nearly everything in a box meant to be donated, and the few things not included were in the 'undecided' box.

Part of him readily agreed. He could repurpose things, recreate them, keep them, use them. But that kind of thinking was what ended him up like this in the first place. If he followed that train of thought, he'd only keep finding excuses to keep it all. Stretch had cherished his belongings. He'd want someone else to love them the way he did. Not be broken down and contorted to find new ways for them to haunt their home.

look! Stretch laughed happily as he twirled, the atrocious bedsheet billowing out like a ball gown. Edge could only shake his head with a sigh. They both knew full well Edge would never let him put a fishing themed bedspread in their home, but he was happy to let his husband enjoy his mock disapproval in the meantime.

ta-dah, his husband unveiled the surprise he'd been trying to hide behind his back. A spherical ceramic jar painted with made up galaxies and stars. The colours were magnificent, the paint job expertly done, and while it seem an odd thing, to put such care into something like a storage jar for a kitchen, he felt his eyelights round out as he took in all the lovingly crafted details. But the most beautiful part was the way Stretch watched him, relief and his own excitement at the unique find, the sincere joy of not just having found another treasure but one they could both love.

now, you know i don't like to say i told you so, his love drawled, and Edge had a thing or ten to say about that, but instead he allowed Stretch his bragging rights. Sure enough, the cats loved that ridiculous little tent intended for children. And Edge loved watching him take dozens of photos of their 'catsronauts' in their 'spaceship'.

A dark spot appeared on the t-shirt crumpled in his grasp, and Edge sucked in a shuddering breath. Two more appeared before he set it down and pressed a hand to his damp eye sockets. He hated acting this way. Hated feeling this way. Shoulders hitching with every breath, hands shaking, the pain from his skull branching down his neck to his very soul and arching out to every inch of his body.

c'mon, sweetheart, i know you always hated that one but are the waterworks really necessary? He could practically hear Stretch, voice soothing and laced with equal parts gentle concern and humor.

A laugh choked out of him. The shirt itself hadn't been the catalyst, no, but surely Stretch would've found it funny he chose that dreadful 'bone daddy' shirt to clutch like a precious heirloom at a time like this. Freeing it, he brought his other hand up to hold his head as his awful sobbing breaths turned half into laughter.

No, Stretch wouldn't find this very funny at all, actually.

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Took a hot minute! Because I've been struggling the past few days, but as mentioned briefly in the comments of an unrelated post: angst

So I was thinking about how physical Stretch and Edge are, about how they're always sitting or leaning against each other, in each others laps, holding each other from behind, kisses, hand or shoulder or arm squeezes, distracted soothing, just- they're always touching each other, like, it's just automatic. Like breathing.

And then the thought crashed down upon me: how much they'd notice the missing presence of the other.

After being together long enough to get to that point, I could only imagine it would be like trying to take a deep breath but never being able to get all the air you need in. Reaching for something that isn't there. Like a missing limb. Feeling that absence while sitting (alone), doing laundry (alone), in the kitchen (alone), taking a shower (alone), no arms wrapped around, no hands settled gently, no kisses, soft and sweet or lingering and deep, no whispered voice against your side, no gust of warmth in a breathed laugh (alone alone alone alone alone alone)

The absence almost a presence on its own. Like the nothingness has a weight, not comfortable and familiar, suffocating, drowning, reaching for something that just isn't there-

When I lost my first pet, I thought I could see him out of the corner of my eye for years. I would wake up thinking the weight along my legs was him. I would suddenly, unexpectedly become aware he wasn't on the back of the couch while I was relaxing. I loved him, but I wasn't even his favorite person in the house. I couldn't even begin to fathom the hole that leaves when it's someone who's practically become your other half.

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Literally them idk

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Very adorable imagery in my mind just now of some big family get together outdoors in good weather, Stretch chillin and talking with a handful of others when one casually asks where Edge disappeared off to. Stretch says "good question-" and clears his throat, using his Rarely Used Papyrus Volume to call out for Edge.

There's a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation, broken quietly at first, growing quickly louder, until Edge suddenly appears, volting himself off the roof to land precisely beside Stretch's chair.

"Yes, my love?" Smiling brightly and a little breathless

Levi follows shortly after, yelling as she fires a string of arrows straight toward Edge

"havin' fun?" Entirely casual, while Edge easily deflects the arrows with a line of bones

"Oh, tons, my love," raising a row of bones to throw Levi off balance while she summons more attacks

"good. don't get too bruised up, 'kay?" Edge jumps aside, to draw the attack away, blocking it and then lunging back as he sends out a counter

"Of course, my love," and he clicks a quick kiss to an expectant Stretch before turning swiftly on heel and sprinting straight toward Levi-

Anyway I think everyone who knows them is used to them and the property damage (Edge has gotten a lot better at minimizing it. Levi Rus and Dyne less so). Also edge and stretch r cute forever