#jean rocking back and forth possibly also dead from stress

[falafels]

the yellowjackets could survive Edgar Allan but the perfect court could NOT survive the wilderness

[gettinziggywithit]

@keeka45

I don’t know what this was supposed to be, but it turned into a random piece of fluff with Edge bonding with his child one night. Maybe more will be added, I dunno, I was just REALLY feelin’ the baby idea though.

It was sometime after 2 in the morning when the peace and quiet across the household was broken by soft cries. Chara’s eyes fluttered as she slowly woke and registered the sound of discontent echoing across the room. She felt the bed shift as Papyrus sat up swiftly and let out a long yawn before rising to walk to the small bassinet in the corner of the room. The soft cries had grown into large wails as inside the bed, a small skeleton child tossed and fussed, their cries mixing with their tears. Chara watched carefully as Papyrus quietly tsk tsk’d the baby and picked them up.

“YES, YES, WE HEAR YOU, LITTLE MISTRAL. YOUR CRIES ARE INDEED TERRIFYING AND A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH, BUT PERHAPS YOU COULD BE PERSUADED TO LOWER YOUR VOICE? WE DON’T WANT TO WAKE YOUR MOTHER, DO WE?”

The skeleton child was so, so tiny in Papyrus’ hands. He was only 2 months old, but was clearly the splitting image of his father, all sharpened angles and the tiniest of fangs. But, he held a softness to him as well as tiny hands brushed at tears that fell from his sockets and Papyrus gently rocked the child around to try and soothe him. Eventually the baby’s cries softened and he looked up with wide, dark sockets, his bright orange eye lights focusing on him. Papyrus grinned down as little Mistral stared at him with all the innocence of a child could. Papyrus’ grin fell when he looked down at the child’s dark onesie and saw its text, “My dad is a mother fucker!”

He rolled his eye lights and groaned, he definitely DID NOT dress his son in this onesie before his bedtime. This had to be the work of his brother, sans, only he would dress his child in such vulgar clothing. Hmph, he would have to wait until later that morning to redress him in a better outfit. For now, he carried his son over to a rocking chair and a small refrigerator. Chara had to pump for a few hours everyday as she had an ample supply of milk that the little one could have. He grabbed a small bottle and using his magic, warmed it up to a considerable temperature.

Mistral’s eye lights landed on the hovering bottle and he started to fuss again, reaching his tiny hands out for it. Papyrus chuckled as his magic wound down and he quickly checked the milk’s temperature before maneuvering Mistral into the crook of his arm and placed the bottle’s nipple into his mouth and slowly rocked back and forth in the chair. One of Mistral’s hands instantly grabbed the side of the bottle while the other wrapped around his thumb. For such a small infant, his grip was incredibly strong. Papyrus was overjoyed at his young son’s strength, he’d surely be a powerful skeleton like he was once he grew into his magic.

Little moments like these are ones that he cherished. He could be alone and share personal one on one time with his son. When he was temporarily free from his life’s burdens and could simply stare into his son’s eye lights, he found a sort of peace in his life. Well, he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t find peace with his mate, Chara, and to an extent, his brother, sans, but the bond that he shared with his newborn son was special in a way he couldn’t yet put into words. It was safe to say that he was skull over heels for him. Moments like these also made him think long and hard about the future ahead.

Truth be told, Papyrus never considered he would sire a child let alone find a mate. With Underfell being a ‘KILL OR BE KILLED’ world, it was not his top priority to focus on the future possibility of raising a family. When Chara fell into his life, it was hard not to admit to himself that he was smitten with the young woman. She was hard headed, determined, and had a sharp wit that nearly rivaled his own. The more time he spent with her as his “prisoner”, the more he started to realize that he couldn’t hand her over to the King.

He knew he was committing the most highest of treason by harboring not only a prisoner, but a human one at that. That was a risk he was willing to take though and only a few monsters outside him and sans knew of her presence. Awkward conversations eventually turned into secret, awkward courtings, and stars, even being the Great and Terrible Papyrus WITH his trusty dating manual, he just couldn’t initiate formal affection. He was still trying to wrap his skull and soul around what it was like to be openly affectionate, but everyday it was getting more and more comfortable.

Chara had been very patient with him, of course. Initially she was a bit standoffish and he could see why. A monster who previously proclaimed her the enemy and prisoner was now trying to court her had to be a mind boggler. But, she eventually relaxed and gave him the chance to prove that he was a formidable and supportive datemate, even though as fierce as he was on the outside, she held strength that could knock him down a few pegs when he grew “too big for his skinny jeans”. His brother, sans, absolutely enjoyed every moment of this, offering his unwelcomed two cents to try and “help” his brother with the relationship.

The night Chara informed him of her pregnancy, he went into total shutdown mode, unable to fully process what she said to him. Sans had errored out as well at the table, mustard dripping from his open maw, but rebooted quickly to offer a loud congratulatory slap to the back that knocked Papyrus to his senses. The first thought to come to him was that he had ZERO knowledge of what being a parent was. He was, for probably the first time in a good, long while, a little afraid of this new situation. Thankfully again, Chara was very understanding of his apprehensiveness and was patient through his mental breakdowns.

Having a child in the Underground was probably the most dangerous thing to have, right next to harboring a human fugitive. Papyrus was two for two at this point, but he wouldn’t let this child get the best of him! After coming to terms and seeing the highlighted silhouette of a new souling in Chara’s tummy, he indeed had a child on the way. He snuck off to the librarby several times during his shift to sift through the remains of books for anything on parenting or newborns. He found bits and pieces, but nothing concrete, it seems they were going to be on their own for this experience. Papyrus didn’t like to admit it, but he was indeed afraid, but he was also afraid for Chara’s sake.

There wasn’t any history of skeletal monster and human coupling and the birth of whatever their spawn would be was certainly going to be a unique one. But, he worried for the health of his mate, she was healthy sure, but he damn near put her on lockdown with strict set meals and liquids and checked her soul and the little souling every night. Her pregnancy was swift and far shorter than a human’s pregnancy. It was only 5 months after her pregnancy was confirmed that their little one was brought to the Underground. Strike that, little Mistral wasn’t brought, he came out on his own terms...which was right in the middle of their dinner one night when thankfully, both brothers were home.

He was born at 9:43PM that night, on the floor of their living room with Papyrus instructing Chara to breathe evenly and push while sans played the role of a horrible midwife, punning and being Chara’s literal stress ball as she clenched his hand and nearly broke some bones. After an hour or so of pushing, little Mistral crowned and eventually slid free of his mother in a splash of magical and bodily fluids. Sans fainted dead away at the sight, much to Chara and his amusement while he cleaned and dried his son of the mess. He had all ten fingers and toes and from the parents’ point of view, was completely perfect.

The first time holding his son would be something he would never, ever forget. The young one’s sockets were clenched shut tightly, but upon being held in his father’s hands, they relaxed and opened slightly, revealing his colored eye lights. Bright orange eye lights. What the hell. His child’s trait was audacity, how fitting for little Mistral. He was a quiet baby most of the time, but when he wanted something, his voice came alive and he screamed the house down. Sans was quick to point out that he definitely was Paps’ kid judging by his voice alone.

Hmph, his child was perfect and he wouldn’t be convinced otherwise. Papyrus looked down to see the bottle empty and the child’s appetite seemed to be filled. He placed the bottle to the side, mentally reminding himself to go clean it once he put his son back down. He stood and turned the child over and held him close to his clavicle and started to gently rub his back and pat it gently to make sure the milk distributed into his magic evenly. When Mistral let out a small burp and relaxed in his grip, he was sure he was ready to go back to sleep.

Pulling him back, he was astonished to see him still wide awake. Sighing, he turned in and held his back close to his sternum, cradling his bottom in one hand and keeping him close with the other. He walked to the window of their room and stared out into the dark night. The one street light still left working cast an eerie glow over the area and the snow fell silently, Mistral was entranced by the falling snow and made little cooing noises as he reached out for the window. Papyrus allowed him to touch the cold glass for a moment, and then turned him back into the crook of his arm. He rocked the child back and forth slowly,his hand resting on his chest, trying to lull him back to sleep. Mistral took the opportunity to wrap around his fingers tightly and sucked on the middle digit. Stars, his child would end up killing him with cuteness.

He turned to see Chara still asleep and then back to his son, he took a deep breath and as soft as possible, starting to sing to him. It was something he had heard on a record that sans and Chara salvaged from the Dump and it was certainly sentimental to him now that Mistral was born.

**Close your eyes Have no fear The monster's gone He's on the run and your daddy's here

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Beautiful boy Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Beautiful boy

Out on the ocean sailing away I can hardly wait To see you come of age But I guess we'll both just have to be patient 'Cause it's a long way to go A hard row to hoe Yes, it's a long way to go But in the meantime

Before you cross the street Take my hand Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Beautiful boy Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Beautiful boy** - Beautiful Boy by John Lennon

Mistral’s sockets were drifting close as the grip on his fingers lessened and soon he was fast asleep again. Papyrus brought him up close and gently clacked his teeth against his forehead and then went back to the bassinet, but he thought for a moment and then turned back to the bed. He gently got under the covers and placed Mistral on his chest where he could sleep comfortably. He stiffened when he felt an arm closing around him and Mistral and looked over to see Chara with tears rolling down her face. Nothing was said, but he brushed away her tears as he pulled her close and gently kissed her. She snuggled in as he closed his eyes and soon all three were sleeping soundly into the night.

[savingbuckyb]

Fix You

Warning: Anorexic/Bulimic O/C, Purging, Angst, Fluff

Summary: Peter finds out his girlfriend is suffering from anorexia. 

(If any of these trigger and or offend you , I suggest you please do not read this. Thank you)

Author’s Note: Sorry that I have decided to go on a hiatus, been stressing. Also, sorry I’m a little rusty. Hope you guys enjoy!  P.s please let me know if I missed any warnings.

Peter was meeting your mother for the first time in 6 months since the two of you gotten together. With your mother being a single parent you didn’t really bring anyone around. Your mom kept pestering you, asking when she was going to meet the boy you were spending most of your time with, the boy she kept catching you on the phone with late at night when you were supposedly sleeping.

You slipped on a yellow spaghetti strap spring dress and earth toned sandals. You sighed taking a few more looks at yourself in the mirror realizing for the third time that you hated the way you looked. Just not tonight, but every single day. Your face looked fatter than usual, your collarbones didn’t show as much as you desired them to. You turned away from the mirror before you could point anything else you disliked about your body. You threw on a cardigan before heard your mom’s voice from downstairs.

“Y/N! Peters’ here!” You took a deep breath before walking downstairs being welcomed with the smell of your mother’s home cooked meal and Peter’s warm smile. Peter was wearing a dark blue sweater with comfortable jeans along with his old pair of converse. His smile brightened up the whole room, you couldn’t help but smile back. Peter engulfed you, running his fingers through your tussled curls, giving you a kiss on the forehead before taking a step back, taking a look at you from head to your worn out shoes.

“You look adorable.” Peter grinned a toothy grin before pinching the apples of your cheeks. You shrugged him off a little, dropping your gaze to your sneakers. Peter frowned a little, furrowing his eyebrows as he followed behind you to the dining table.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Y/N I made your favorite.” Your mother smiled as she placed the porcelain bowl of mac and cheese on the table. The buttery aroma filled your nose, tugging at the taste buds in your tummy. You soon frowned, furrowing your brows at your mom.

“Mom, I told you I was on a diet. How can I be on a diet with all these carbs?” You whined a little, gesturing towards the bowl.

“Darling, I thought for this special occasion, you can break that diet for just one night... How long have you been on this diet anyway? Are you sure this is healthy?” Your mother stared at you, literally almost burrowing a hole right through you. You tensed, clenching your jawline, you looked up to see Peter staring at you also as if he was waiting for an answer. You decided not to reply, knowing that the ‘diet’ you were on wasn’t at all healthy. Your mother sighed deeply before fixing both yours and Peter’s plate, placing them down in front of you.

“Wow this looks delicious.” Peter ran his tongue over his lips, picking up a large fork. Your mother finally took a seat, placing her napkin in her lap before making a grabby hand towards you and Peter.

“Time for grace.” Your mom announced. You stayed silent staring at your plate while your mom finished up the prayer. You picked up your fork separating the peas from the potatoes, your stomach churned at the thought of eating it. Peter and your mom began to talk about grades, school and hobbies. You knew a lot about Peter in the past 6 months but not enough you would have liked to.

“What do you do on your spare time Peter?” Your mom asked munching away.

“Oh I have a internship at Stark Industries.” Peter replied taking a few glances at you from here and there.

“Wow, you got yourself a good one Y/N” She winked at you, making you wince a little, your face becoming flushed. You listened while your mother asked several more questions, Peter nearly done with his plate. He took one more glance at you before clearing his throat.

“Is everything okay, Y/N? You haven’t touched your plate at all.” Peter asked, concern coated his voice. Your mother snapped her head towards you, your eyes immediately dropping down to your plate.

“Sorry, I was just lost in thought..” You fixed your lips in a tight line. Peter stared at you as if he was waiting for something. You took a long sigh before slowly plopping a potato in your mouth. You chewed slowly, Peter loosening the tension in his shoulders, giving you a reassuring smile. You continued to eat, cherishing each bite as if it was your last. You were so hungry. You couldn’t help but shove every last bit into your mouth, leaving your plate spotless. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before taking a deep breath, your body immediately felt heavy as if it was a big rock sitting in the middle of your stomach. You put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from throwing up, taking a huge gulp. Your mother finished up her conversation with Peter before taking our plates, beginning her dishes for the night.

“You kids could go have your fun..” You heard your mom’s smile through her voice as she waved her hand at you two. Peter pulled you to the couch, his eyes bright as always, holding your hand in his, the tv remote in the other. You sat close to him, your shoulders tense, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were going to explode, you were so bloated.

“What do you want to watch?... There’s Moana.. Shr-“

“I have to go to the bathroom.” You abruptly interrupted, speed walking to the bathroom, you cautiously closed the door before slamming open the toliet lid. You hovered over the toilet, hesitating for a moment before dropping to your knees, you sighed heavily, sticking two slender fingers down your throat. Every thought raced in your head, searching for any possible reason why you needed this, why it was necessary for you. Tears streamed down your eyes as you forced your own vomit to protrude from your open mouth. You repeated this routine a couple more times until you noticed the familiar color of crimson pooling in the toilet bowl. You gripped the sides of the seat as your body contracted and comstricted against itself as you did it once last time. You were suddenly startled by a knock and the bathroom door swinging open.

“Y/N, are you ok-“ Peter stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth agape. You could’ve sworn you locked the door.

“W-what are you d-doing?” He was completely at lost for words, and so were you. You wanted to keep this as your deep dark secret, that no one would know until you decided you needed the help. You couldn’t even lock eyes with him as he trudged over to you. He wrapped an arm around your lower back and the other underneath your thighs, he gather you up in his arms, leaving the short walk silent to your bedroom. He sat you on the bed, soft coughs escaping your throat from all the strain you put on it. The room was still silent, nothing but the constant thuds from Peter’s paces. He couldn’t find the right words to say, he would stare at you blankly, open his mouth a bit then go back to pacing.

“If you’re going to say something, say it.” You spat, avoiding his dreaded gaze. He stood in front of you before dropping to his knees, getting a hold of your face in hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was coated in sympathy. You wanted to slap his hands away at the thought of him pitying you, you hated feeling like you were a burden.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me.. I’m sorry Peter, that you had to find out like this..”

“Why do you do that?... Why do you do this to yourself?” Your gaze shifted back to the ground. “Look at me.” He lifted your chin up with your index finger, tears now pooling at the rim of his eyes.

“I-I don’t know.” You muttered out, now it was your turn to cry. “I will never be skinny enough.” And at that Peter’s heart broke in a billion, tiny pieces. He cupped your face a little harder in his hands, his eyes moving back and forth from mine as if he was gathering up everything he had to say.

“Listen to me, you’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I wouldn’t want anyone else. Don’t you ever say anything like that ever again. Do you understand me?” Peter basically pleaded, tears seeping through the tiny cracks in his voice. You couldn’t help but feel like shit especially since you were the cause of this.

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You completely broke down into his arms, Peter engulfing you. You sniffed loudly as sobs violently racked your body.

“Don’t be sorry babe.. I got you.” He cradled you until your crying stopped.

“If you ever feel the need to do this again.. or if you’re feeling like you’re not good enough. Just call me please.” Peter ran his fingers through your hair, peppering soft kisses on your forehead. Tears began well at your eyes once again, not only because of the overwhelming moment but because of the way Peter poured his heart to you. But because of the way he showed you he cared.

“Help me, help you.” Peter whispered, and all you can do was nod your head. You needed the help more than ever and by the way Peter stared into your eyes he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

[melchixr]

1 AM Texts

Anon Said:  "I'm gonna nut and cry at the same fuckin time" ok it's 3am and I'm laughing but also imagine Hänschen saying this 2 literally Anyone about Ernst

Although this isn’t a prompt. I wrote it like it was one. Ur welcome, gods. When will I ever sleep.

Words: 1290

1 text from: hand-sins rilhoe

Ilse rolled over to look at her phone, seeing now that it was 1:33 AM and there was on her lockscreen, ‘I need advice.’

Ilse slowly unlocked the phone, which had been laying beside her, to shoot back, ‘what the f u ck do u need??????’

There was only a second pause before there was a vibration and a message popped up.

‘He’s liking pictures of cats on instagram. What does that mean?’

Ilse let out an audible groan, careful not to wake up Wendla, who was peacefully passed out on her chest. 

‘he likes cats, hans. can i fuckign sleep now. pls and thank. ‘

Ilse put her phone down on the mattress again, hoping to float back into a peaceful sleep with Wendla’s hair tickling her nose. But barely thirty seconds passed before the phone vibrated again. And although she felt like screaming at the top of her lungs, she picked i up to read:

‘But like, he liked 17 all in a 3 minute span all from different accounts.’

‘maybe he went onto the cat tag i don’t fuckin know guudnight.’

That was the final straw. Ilse chucked her phone over Wendla’s sleeping form, now sure that she was going to sleep and sleep hard.

That was until a minute later when she heard the ear drum shattering vibration. She wanted to ignore it at first, then she heard another. And another. Her mind drove her to reach over her girlfriend blindly and grab at the phone. When she looked at the screen to what she had woken up for, she couldn’t help but sigh.

‘Okay but what does it mean?

How much does he like cats?

Oh no, what if he’s a furry, Ilse?’

Ilse tossed her phone, this time all the way off the bed. After hearing it hit the carpeted floor with a thud, she finally closed her eyes and curled up to Wendla.

---

Melchior was possibly the worst Mario Kart player Ilse had ever met. He was fumbling and falling off of the track and rocking back and forth with stress vibrating through his body. She’d never seen him so worked up. And she’d been his friend with him through every single final they’d ever taken.

“Melchi!” Ernst cried out from where he sat on the couch, holding the other controller and playing calmly. “Why are you so bad? It can’t possibly be that hard.”

“It is for me. Shut that cock holster you call a mouth,” Melchior spat out after falling off a bridge and coming in dead last while Ernst crossed the finish line.

Suddenly, from where she stood in the kitchen, watching the whole game unfold, Ilse’s phone vibrated.

1 text from: hand-sins rilhoe

“I swear to fucking god,” She muttered to herself and stared at the notification. “If it’s saying he wants Ernst to holster his goddamn-”

“What was that Ilse?” Moritz asked as he entered the open kitchen in the tiny apartment they somehow crammed 3 people into.

The redhead looked up, shaking her head rapidly. “Oh, nothing, Mo. I was just waiting for the popcorn.”

As soon as Moritz finished walking his dirty sup to the sink, she unlocked her phone to see the message on her screen.

‘I'm gonna nut and cry at the same fucking time. Do you see Ernst in that yellow sweater and skinny jean combo because I’m LIVING.’

Ilse looked up and saw Hanschen sitting calmly on the arm of the loveseat, his eyes glued to Ernst. Martha was talking to the blond, but he only watched as Ernst stood and walked over to where Melchior sat in His Beanbag™.  

‘if  u ever text me that sentence again i’ll break my phone. i swear to the lord’

All she did was watch as Hanschen looked down to his phone and then look back to Ernst. The tall boy was now bent over and trying to hug and console Melchior, who was making a show of pushing him away. The whole room was laughing at the pair, besides Hanschen, who seemed to be just enraptured by Ernst’s ass.

‘u  are the thirstiest person i’ve ever met, rilow’

Ernst looked at his phone one more time, then looking over his shoulder at Ilse to see her disapproving glare. The man just smiled a big, dumb smile, big grey eyes sparkling as he did.

“Hansi!” Ernst cried out, his lisp, taking Hanschen’s attention right back to him. “Come here and play a round. Melchior’s a sore loser.”

Ilse had never seen anyone move faster than she saw Hanschen move from the couch and right up to Ernst.

---

Ilse promised herself that if she got a single text from Hanschen tonight she’d bash her skull in with a rock. All she wanted was to be go out as a group and, for the first time in the past three months, not get live updates of what Hanschen thought of Ernst’s smile.

Or Ernst’s hair or eyes or ass or legs or laugh or ANYTHING.

So when she saw her phone vibrate, she almost ripped her arms off. It was absolutely blowing up, just sitting on the table between her and Moritz.  Right across from her, was Hanschen, staring down at his lap instead of eating the burger in front of him.

When she looked at the texts, she already knew what they said.

‘Oh my lord, he’s sitting right next to me.

His knee just brushed mine, I’m ready to marry him.

Okay but have you ever seen a boy so pretty?

He’s a literal angel from heaven drinking a shake.

I literally want to kiss him to badly. What do I do?’

“Hey, Ernst?”

Both Hanschen and Ernst, who was stuffing his mouth with one of the french fried he stole from Hanschen’s plate, looked up at Ilse. Hanschen had a look of fear in his eyes that Ilse had never seen before. And Ernst just looked with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, Ilsie?”

“Read this for me, okay?”

As Ilse handed her phone across their plates and sticky table surface, Hanschen’s eyes blew up twice their normal size. He lunged over, almost knocking over his coke in the process. “Ilse, I don’t think that’s at all necessary!  Why don’t we finish our dinner and go-”

It was already far too late. The phone was already in Ernst’s hands and so was Hanschen’s life.

He read it once, twice, three times, before looking up at Hanschen with a shocked expression.  “Wait. Is this….Hanschen’s contact.”

“NO!”

“Yes,” Ilse muttered, leaning forward in her seat to watch this all unfold, the two boys sitting side by side. “It absolutely is.”

Ernst’s mouth fell open, not looking over to a very red faced Hanschen. “Oh….Well….That’s a….Wow….”

The blond had given up in seeming like he was innocent. The young man sat there, his face buried in his hands and his elbows propped up on the table. “I’m. So. Sorry,” He hissed under his breath and ran his hands through his hair, destroying his well groomed and perfectly placed ideal. “Ilse,” He muttered over to his best friend across the table. “I want you dead.”

“You really wanna kiss me that badly?”

Hanschen’s head shot up like a bullet. “Absolutely.” He spat out quickly before looking over to Ernst, who smiled back like a giddy middle schooler.

Moritz was the first to move from his shocked state, taking a long sip from Ernst’s strawberry milkshake before stating. “What the fuck just happened and are we still going over to Ilse’s after this or….?”

[alleenkaas]

The perfect court would be in shambles within days

the yellowjackets could survive Edgar Allan but the perfect court could NOT survive the wilderness