Sorry for the slow updates. I'm working on chapter 9 of Horrortale : Rotten Apple and as you can see, it hurts.
It's difficult to write and cry at the same time you know xD I'm doing my best. Fortunately, that's a """happy""" chapter contrary to the previous ones.
But, urgh, hurting Papyrus is hurting my feelings hard xD
When the weight of the rock ceiling pressed down on him.
When Undyne’s expression grew stiff at any mention of further training.
When Sans dismissed his fears that he was unlikable, unlovable with a simple, “aw, bro—who wouldn’t love you?”, as if Papyrus wasn’t acutely aware of Sans’ popularity and his own lack of friends.
He just...smiled. No matter what.
It had worked for years, so he did the same when they reached the surface. Smiled when humans yelled at him as they drove past, looking to startle him. He smiled when they stared at him, as if he were a freak. He smiled when they flinched from the touch of his bony hand, visibly shaken by the press of bone on skin.
He smiled. And he played dumb. Don’t let them see that they hurt you. Don’t let them know. It would only give them a reason to hurt you further.
But Cherry—Red—didn’t seem to think so. He swore at the humans that honked as the couple walked down the street, their fingers laced. He stared back at them when they stared at their clasped hands or their bony features. He squeezed the humans’ hands tight, smiling viciously when they tried to pull away from his handshake.
“why do you put up with these assholes, creampuff?” he asked after they walked past the cashier, both carrying coffee. The human behind the register had stared at them as soon as they entered the coffee shop—then blurted out ‘but won’t it just pass through you?’ when they ordered coffee. Red had seethed, but Papyrus had laughed it off and explained how magic absorption worked. “they aren’t worth yer time.”
Papyrus sipped his latte. “THEY JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND, CHERRY. AND AS AMBASSADOR, IT’S MY JOB TO EDUCATE THEM!”
He snorted. “yeah? well, lemme know when you get some time off, ‘cause that seems like a full time job.”
Papyrus just kept smiling. “THEY’RE TRYING.”
He snorted. “if ya say so.”
“I DO!” Red blinked, but Papyrus maintained his blank grin. “HOW’S YOUR COFFEE?” he asked, changing the subject.
It was so hard. Smiling. When Helen proposed that monsters shouldn’t be allowed on the sports teams. When it was suggested that the most recent flu season was made worse by the monsters’ presence—as if they were carrying and spreading disease, regardless of the piles of evidence against it. When yet another human tagged the embassy with red letters and hateful words.
He was so tired. And it felt like he’d been smiling for years. The expression felt brittle. Fragile. So, alone, he sank slowly to the floor of his apartment and covered his sockets, breath hitching.
It hurt. It hurt so much, and his soul felt so heavy, so tired. Another sob wracked him, and he didn’t force it back or push it down. His whole body rocked, and he gasped for breath.
Someone knocked. He sniffed. “WHO IS IT?” It was so hard, keeping his voice bright and cheerful, when it felt like he was coming apart at the seams.
“orange.”
He didn’t smile. “RED?”
“tha’s not how the joke goes, creampuff. are ya gonna lemme in?”
Papyrus couldn’t smile for him. Not right now. He simply couldn’t. He couldn’t be the bright and cheerful presence everyone expected him to be.
“I—“ He swallowed. “DO YOU NEED SOMETHING?”
“jus’ came by ta see ya.”
His chest hitched. “IT’S...IT’S NOT A G-GOOD TIME, CHERRY.” His voice wavered.
“...creampuff? you okay?”
Papyrus swallowed. “OF COURSE!” he lied, “WHAT COULD BRING THE GREAT PAPYRUS LOW? I C-CAN CONQUER ANY OBSTACLE IN MY PATH!”
Ted didn’t reply right away. Then—
“hey, pap? it’s okay, ya know? ta be upset. ya ain’t gotta be happy all the time.”
Papyrus closed his sockets and brought his knees to his chest. “I—.” He swallowed. “i know.”
“...can i come in?”
Papyrus didn’t answer. He waited until Rd knocked again to ask, “WHO’S THERE?”
“boo.”
“BOO WHO?”
“see? knew ya were cryin’ in there.”
Papyrus wiped the tears away. “THAT’S A VERY STRANGE LAST NAME, MR. BOO.” Red laughed softly. He knocked again. “WHO IS IT NOW?”
“radio.”
“RADIO WHO?”
“radio not, here i come.”
Before Papyrus could protest, Red teleported into the room. “aw, pap.”
Papyrus looked up at his, his cheekbones tear-streaked and his sockets over-bright. “CHEATER,” he complained. Red just wrapped his arms around him and pressed their foreheads together. Papyrus shuddered. It felt good. So, so good. He shuddered, trying to hold back another sob, but Red just rubbed his back and murmured soothingly. Realizing he was fight a losing battle, Papyrus clutched at Red and allowed himself to cry like he hadn’t since he was a babybones.
Random "it's 6am and I can't sleep because my stomach hurts" thought:
Flowey's favorite is Papyrus and it takes him a very long time to get bored of him
Flowey primarily considers Sans to be Papyrus's trashbag brother and implies that he's too dangerous to have around
So the Flowey runs were probably like the reverse of fanon. Papyrus is always hanging around angsting but all Sans is is a hoodie Papyrus can never bring himself to clean no matter how many times he has to suffer through laundry day
