A collection of inane nonsense (ranging from Error being reincarnated as Palette to Dust finding a new love for the color pink) circling around the many AUs and Multiverses of the Undertale world. Some stories will be connected; Others will be rando...
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Yellow eyelights glared at a vast selection of differently branded, pre-cut bread loaves lined across a lengthy aisle shelf.
Dream hummed; His arms crossed, and his foot lightly tapped on the white tile floor below as he pondered the age-old question: White or whole wheat?
Though (while both types had their pros and cons), the real question was: Which one would he be more likely to get Ink and Palette to eat?
...and preferable not complain about.
"The white bread it is then." The, for once, causally-garbed guardian nodded to himself, deducing the answer nigh instantaneously, then reached toward a decently sized (and priced) loaf. "That will keep both of them from giving me any grief. Plus, I'll finally have something to cram vegetables in between to trick Ink into eating at least moderately healthier."
Speaking of the artist, Dream foolishly glanced down the adjacent aisle. In front of a sparsely stocked shelf, amidst a small crowd of five people, was his husband, who happened to be-
"For the love of- I just wanted one normal family outing," he grumbled, hand abandoning the bread in favor of pinching the bridge of his nasal cavity.
After taking a breath to regain some semblance of composure, the Guardian of Positivity proceeded to march past the other shoppers and stop right beside the soulless skeleton. He wasted no time, grasping the other by the wrist and tugging him away from the aisle shelf. "Ink, quit groping the toilet paper!"
"Why? It's so soft and fluffy." Ink whined.
"People are staring! Not to mention, it is highly inappropriate behavior for a monster your age."
Dream scowled as his husband scoffed and crossed his arms defiantly. "You don't know how old I am!"
"No, Ink, you don't know how old you are-" The thought screeched to a sudden halt when the guardian came to an unexpected realization- i.e., noticed the distinct lack of a certain bubbly teenage skeleton. His eye sockets narrowed dangerously. Thus, causing the other's defiance to melt into faux nervousness. "Wait, where is Palette? You were supposed to be watching him!"
Ink shrugged and offered a timid, "Oops?"
Dream's ever-growing sense of defeat escaped him in the form of a drawn-out sigh. "We better find him before-"
Three loud voices interrupted, echoing from beyond the aisle.
"Stop!"
"Block the exit!"
"Someone catch that kid!"
Dread instantly wormed its way into his soul. He found himself rushing in the commotion's direction, pulling Ink along with him, before freezing in sheer shock at the sight the noise led him to.
Palette, the very child he and Ink were missing, was heading toward the store's entrance, wearing a wide grin on his face. All the while, holding a raw chicken above his skull.
"FREE THE CHICKENS!" He cried.
As his son exited the building, poultry in tow with four livid employees following close behind, Dream buried his hands in his face and unleashed a frustrated scream.
