#you can just say 'it simply isnt for me' without going on a tirade about how much it sucks and how much you hate it

[horce-divorce]

I've never listened to cavetown but everyone fucking hates him so much that I think I like him by default. specifically to piss off the haters a little more

[urcharactersclasspect]

Psst. Can I get some more details about Nazz and Jonny being Bards of Heart? That's a really interesting take imo!

Boy do YOU have an ESSAY to read

As a disclaimer, Ed Edd n Eddy isnt really a very deep show- Theres just tidbits of something deeper sometimes you can gather about the cul de sac and the kids we focus on in the show. Ive watched through the show from episode 1 to Eddy's movie and the last episode. But its been a hot second since Ive been a kid myself and I havent really sat down to watch it in a long time tbh.

Another disclaimer is, even though they share a godtier does not mean they will have the same personality! Since Personality by itself pretty much is not as relevant to classpects as much as how the aspects seem to bend around the person in question as they grow and delevoped. That being said..This is gonna be a long ass read. Im so sorry. I have THOUGHTS on everything.

For Nazz, throughout the show we see her literally making almost every boy in the Cul De Sac crush on her, she has no confirmed feelings until the last movie, where she and kevin want to date. Unlike most heart players in canon and the ones I have met or seen good protrayals of, i dont think she has unrequited feelings and we clearly see as much, but it sure does give me the same energy as Dirk's frequant troubles to just finally spit out his feelings for Jake through extreme indirect means, and how Heart players are actually way better at controlling how or showing how they really feel waaaay more than people give them credit for- This isn't to imply heart players are Emotionless and never show emotion, but Heart players are firmly NOT all sweethearts who are innocent, do no wrongs and are definitely not always bubbly fangirls like Meulin- Hell, even Meulin isn't really probably being honest with her own feelings on things either.  On the contrary, they can be very intense with what they are passionate about whether it be romantic or just an interest of theirs. And usually, like Dirk, they are very self aware of that fact. So they sometimes try to hold back things about themselves they are all too aware of. Sometimes to a detriment, but not always. For Dirk, its his emotions in general he tries to keep to himself. For Meulin its likely her resentment of her team members and holding back her anger at Kurloz or maybe even her feelings for Kurloz still being there.

For the Bard part of her classpect, its the idea that Bards Mirror their opposite. The thing about Nazz is shes actually very responsible! Often giving an air of being very well put together for a kid to the rest of the cul de sacs kids and cool headed more times than not. Its part of the charm. Of her acting cool and casual- And just how she behaves regularly like nothing bothers her, but sometimes you can tell it does or just might (almost like a passive ghost of hpow Dirk acts). You learn over time shes actually very smart, too; she gets very good grades, is a model student who cheerleads, and even was seen as responsible enough by the parents of the cul-de-sac to babysit Eddy. Which definitely says something, I think. This is usually how we see Mind Players- Dirk being so cool headed but only the surface is  too. Since its the stereotype at this point that Mind players are the calm ones (which I have my own opinions on too but thats another essay for another time).

DESPITE this chill and responsible facade on the surface, Nazz has SEVERAL times shown some genuine Heart player impulsiveness or thinking with her heart on a sleeve. She allows Edd into her bathroom without even thinking about it, even when it wasn't cleaned up. You see how she acts on emotion like humouring Edd a lot through the show even by kissing him at one point and dancing with him even when it wasnt the popular thing to do, she humours Kevin but lectures him for his own impulsiveness on pure anger towards the Edds frequantly, passively destroying someone elses impulses and making him think before he acts a little more; In spite of this too, she also can get violent towards the Edds herself and irritable when things dont go her way, and we even learn Nazz for all her coolness and popularity, still has insecurities shes VERY emotional about- her hair being one. Much like Dirk does about this or that. Im sure theres further proof to get what Im saying across, but Im rambling as is. So thats where Ill end that tirade, I think it REALLY fits Nazz.  So theres my conclusion.

For Jonny 2x4. Its easier to tell you why I think it fits him, and Id say its for far more obvious reasons when you really get down to it. Hes probably an example of a Bard that simply hasn't learned how to gauge his aspect very well in every day life, leading to him becoming more of an annoyance to those around him much like how you see Cronus or Gamzee be treated. Someone who hasn't quite "gotten it" yet. I don't think this is nessasarily because Jonny is stupid though, at least maybe not as stupid as he makes himself out to be, since hes shown to definitely have some intellegience, more like its because hes Younger (theres no direct ages we know of?), but he does act a lot younger than Nazz so thats my best assumption, and hes also in a seperate enviroment from Nazz, who I personally see as a far healthier Bard for reasons I'll be getting into in a minute here. just know. Jonny has similiarities to Nazz with how the Heart aspect bends around him; Theres too many instances to count where hes just being impulsive but he tries to come across as braver or calmer than he really is. But if I admitted all of them for Jonny, we'd be here all day long and you'd be reading even MORE.

Lets just go with the obvious signs outside those then.

Jonny is a very lonely kid. This is similiar to Dirk too; Jonny is never seen with any genuine friends except his attempts to befriend the Edds, as stated before some kids in the cul-de-sac consider him to be an annoyance due to his own impulsiveness, and this because hes a very socially awkward kid because even in his own home theres rather dark implications of Child Nelgect or something happening. Even the Creator of the show states this interesting quote in an interveiw: "He'd be more or less thrown out the door at 9am and only let back in when it got dark or if it was time to eat. He had an imaginary friend. " Hes that lonely kid who was so lonely and felt so much so he had to resort to Imaginary friends, imposing an identity to an object that seemingly has a similiar personality to his own or a personality that meshes well enough for them to "get along" and to not get along sometimes- this is seen constantly with Jonny talking to Plank. Jonny sometimes disgrees with the morality of Plank, but hes also best friends with Plank and if I remember correctly, Jonny even says at point they are as close as brothers- PLank knows him more than he knows himself, as Jonny says. Sometimes Plank suggests even illegal things - things a little kid like Jonny (supposedly) wouldn't know about or do himself. Almost like Jonny knows weird things from listening to his parents and imposed them onto Plank, making Plank "real" so Jonny could stay in his own head and pretendHE doesn't know anything. If that makes sense.  Much in the same manner as Dirk having conversations of various focuses with HAL and objects he himself has inputted his will or rather - his Soul and Heart onto.

Thinking about this some more. I think an arguement could be made that Jonny isn't actually a Bard of Heart, but maybe a Bard of MIND. But IM not so sure.

If i think of anything more to add to this, I might revisit my thoughts on it later and reblog or edit it more.

[wanderingtycho]

In From the Heat, Chp. #1

Heyo! So if you’ve given a cursory glance to my page, you’ve probably noticed I’m infatuated with the Sansby pairing(though to be honest, I’m pretty much in love with Sans being shipped with anybody, its almost unhealthy how much I like his character. Almost.) Anyways, the particular idea of Sans and Grillby dating/developing a relationship stuck in my head, so I’ve been writing up a story about it for a couple months now. I write really slowly, alright? 

So this will be the first chapter of many, not sure how long it’ll end up being, knowing me probably somewhere between 10 or 100. If you’re as into this sorta thing as much as I am, be sure to eagerly anticipate more! 

(Note: This story will become NSFW at some point, eventually, cant just dole out the smutty bits right away now can I?) 

(Second Note: Despite the title of this story being “In From the Heat”, the concept of skeleton-heat will not be mentioned or implemented in any capacity, I apologize both for this disappointment and the fact I am rubbish at coming up with names for my stories.)  

Cheers, folks. :)

-Tycho

The clattering of chair legs skittering across his recently polished floors caused Grillby to sigh under his breath, the sound akin to a bonfire caught in a stiff breeze, adjusting his glasses and turning away from the line of taps to face his restaurant. The interior of the cozy dive was dimly illuminated by soft glowing bulbs overhead, given that the fire monster was used to lighting his establishment himself, paying extra for brighter fixtures seemed like a waste. At this time of night, or rather early morning, there were typically only two monsters to be found hanging around the bar. Grillby, naturally, and his self-proclaimed most loyal customer. 

Sans was facing away from Grillby with one arm resting against the bar-top, his other dedicated to causing the wooden furniture to dance and scuttle across the room, blue energy flowing off the skeletons fingers like turgid mist curling around the tables and chairs. It was a rather surreal sight, watching the beaten furnishings scuffle and tap about like they possessed life of their own, a trick Sans liked to show off to whatever patrons happened to still be conscious.

Grillby watched the display for a few moments, eyes smoldering slightly in amusement, clearing his throat loudly to draw Sans’ attention. The skeleton slowly turned his skull to look over his shoulder, lolling to the side and leering up at Grillby with an inebriated grin, pupils sputtering with an unstable blue aura.

“h-hey...hey grillbz! check it out! i can plllaay musssicl chrrairs alllll by mmmsrlrf!” Sans slurred excitedly, waving his hands in lurching gestures, causing the furniture to spin and dance with wilder gyration. Grillby repressed a chuckle and placed his hands on the bar, splaying his fingers and leaning closer to look down his nose at Sans, spectacles reflecting the beaming light set above their heads. 

“Sans...it’s quite late, shouldn’t you be heading home?” he asked, speaking in a cultivated genial tone, voice crackling ethereally. Sans made an inarticulately dismissive noise, swishing his hand like an orchestra conductor, slouching up against the bar and curling his free hand around a bottle. 

“psssh...nah, it aint...that late. only been like...what...ten hourrssh? ahm praa-tic-allyyy...teetotal ovah eer! whatre ya tryin ta get ridda me err somethin?” Sans asked with a dry, rasping laugh, tipping his skull back and downing the remainder of booze. Grillby furrowed what would be his brow and absently started wiping up spilt liquor, watching as Sans started nursing his empty bottle, merriment fading as the corners of his grin tilted dejectedly. Grillby rested his elbows on the bar and inclined his head slightly, flames sparking down the base of his neck as the fire monster masked his concern, eyes narrowing as Sans sank lower into his seat.

“Of course not, Sans. I’ve never needed to kick you out before...you always drag yourself away to see to Papyrus.” Grillby said casually, smiling assuredly to himself, mentioning Papyrus was a strategy he employed in encouraging Sans to cut himself off. Sure enough, the skeleton looked up sharply, face suddenly gaunt and chagrined. He groaned and slumped himself over the bar-top, mumbling something guttural and inaudible into his sleeve, Grillby leaned closer and raised an incendiary eyebrow.

“Hmmm? What was that, Sans?” he asked, carefully extracting the empty bottle from the skeletons grasp, gingerly mopping up some of the spilt beverage near his skull. Sans’ pupils dragged themselves to the fringe of his sockets, staring up at Grillby with a pensive light, a dreary sigh slipping out from between his teeth.

“ ...i said...i kinda...don wanna go home to paps right now...” Sans muttered, exhaling heavily through his absent nose, dropping his gaze and missing Grillby’s incredulous reaction. The fire monsters eyes widened behind his glasses, raising a hand to cover where his mouth would’ve been, his flame equivalent of hair writhing in surprise. Sans had never expressed anything but an utterly glowing affinity for his brother, even during the bleakest most introspective drunken monologues, he always firmly asserted that Papyrus was a bastion of encouragement and optimism to live with. Grillby pulled up a small stool he kept for short breaks between rushes, seating himself to reach eye level with Sans, intently observing his patrons strange mood.

“Well now, that’s...unexpected. Have there been any matters of contention between the two of you lately? I mean, aside from your well established aversion to doing laundry?” Grillby asked, smirking as best he could without lips, trying to set Sans at ease by gently needling his habit of leaving dirty socks wherever he went. Sans snickered half heartedly, pushing himself up on his elbows and raising his skull, looking furtively around the room seemingly in a direct effort to avoid meeting Grillby’s eyes. 

“nah...its nothin like that...me an paps are doin fine. its just...as much as i love the guy...hes always on my case for goin here.” Sans replied glumly, lurching backwards in his seat and straightening his spine as much as he could, haughtily placing one hand on his chest  and the other on his hip in a mocking semblance of the taller skeleton. “SANS! YOU SPEND FAR TOO MUCH TIME CONSUMING ALCOHOL AND ENGAGING IN THIS SO CALLED ‘PARTY HARD’ LIFESTYLE AT GRILLBY’S! YOU SHOULD FOCUS MORE ON YOUR CAREER, OR MORE ACCURATELY, YOUR DISMAL LACK OF ONE!” he imitated spiritedly, his normally subdued and quiet voice bizarrely dissonant to Papyrus’ bombast and perpetual righteous indignation. 

Grillby laughed aloud despite himself, he had to admit that even when drunk off his bones, Sans could pull off a pretty uncanny impression of his brothers mannerisms. Sans’ eyes seemed to brighten a bit, corners of his smile tugging up as he listened to the wispy chuckling, settling back down to his previous lack of posture. Grillby rested his chin atop his hands as he thought of an answer, most of the time simply listening to Sans’ venting set things right, though their conversations were rarely one sided. This was the first time Sans had conveyed any sort resentment towards Papyrus however, even as a fairly jovial parody, Grillby could tell Sans was genuinely vexed by his brothers attitude on the matter.  

“Papyrus is a fine lad, I can tell how important he is to you, and I get the impression the sentiment is mutual. He has an...obtuse way of expressing himself, always trying to improve aspects of his life, especially the things he cares deeply about. It’s a positive approach to have down here, pushing the hardest for the things you love the most, and that means you Sans.” Grillby said, trying to soothe Sans with pretty much what he already knew, Papyrus was his only family after all. Sans nodded a few times, placing his knuckles against his temple and rubbing in small circles, generating the grating sound of bone against bone. Most monsters found the noise irritating or even disconcerting, but Grillby had gotten used to hearing it years ago, understanding the habit as a comfort thing amongst skeletons.  

“yeah, yeah i know...i just wish hed gimme less flak over hangin around here as much as i do.” Sans said, sighing and drumming his fingers on the bar, setting his jaw and shaking his skull. “i mean, its not like i drink cause i got nothin better to do, ya know? if all i cared about was getting trashed, i could just do that in the damn shed. i come here for a lot more than that.” Sans grumbled, the furniture around the room starting to dance less gracefully and more aggressively, magic automatically mimicking his thoughts. The skeleton braced one hand on the empty stool to his right, gesturing his left hand exaggeratedly, attempting to demonstrate whatever belligerent point he was working towards.

Grillby laced his fingers together and waited patiently for Sans to calm down before interjecting, eyeing him somewhat worriedly as the skeletons eye socket flickered a brief blue glow. “he just...doesnt get it, ya know? this is the one place in this frigid little town where i can at least try and relax. i cant go a hundred and whatever percent like him all the time, i deserve to spend a few hours around monsters who can actually get a joke, whats wrong with that ya know?!” Sans asked, voice growing tenser and more defensive, rolling his pupils and throwing up his hands in exasperation. Grillby drew a breath and reached a hand towards him, trying to placate the one sided argument before it escalated any further, jumping slightly in his seat as the skeleton unexpectedly slammed a hand down unto the bar. “uurghh! sometimes i just wish he could appreciate what helps me get through the day, ya know?! hell, it isnt even about getting drunk or crackin puns, i wanna tell him off and say the real reason i spend so much time here is just to see y-” 

Sans’ frustrated tirade came to an abrupt halt as his jaw snapped shut, light draining from his sockets and the animated objects he controlled clattering to the floor, resounding silence prevailing over the bar. Grillby sat stunned, eyes wide behind his glasses, staring at Sans as the skeleton stared back breathlessly. He’d never seen Sans get that worked up, and what he had been saying...Grillby wasn’t even sure what to make of it. The fire monster leaned backwards in his seat and appraised Sans warily, the skeleton frozen mid rant and looking rather shell shocked, eye sockets empty save for the vague panicked quivering of his pupils. As the wordless tension between them stretched further, Grillby racking his brain for an appropriate way to broach the silence, until Sans cleared his throat and let out a thoroughly unconvincing laugh. “hahaha...heh...ahem, uhhhmmm...welp. i uh...pretty sure ive had enough. think ill skip last call and...uh yeah...ya know...” he trailed off weakly, rasping his fingers together nervously and lowering his skull, deliberately breaking eye contact and moving to climb down off his seat.  

Grillby blinked, sensing Sans’ embarrassment and feeling a twinge of empathy, placing a hand over his wrist to stop him from leaving. “Sans...I’m flattered this place means so much to you, and you shouldn't have to keep that a secret, I’m sure Papyrus would understand if you explained it to him. You should be honest with those closest to you, even if you’re unsure how they’ll react.” Grillby said softly, giving the skeletons hand a reassuring squeeze, smiling comfortingly despite Sans being half turned away. Sans didn't respond immediately, he seemed to be frozen in place again, only this time there was significantly more conflict evident in his features. As if making a definitive choice, he turned back to face Grillby without actually raising his gaze, letting out a genuine chuckle.

“heh...heh, ya know somethin grillbz? youre totally right...ya always are. guess its just a talent of yours, getting through this thick skull a mine. heheheh...well, id love to take off and let you close up, but i think im gonna have a problem walkin home.” Sans said, tone a confusing mixture of grateful and cryptic, Grillby raised a quizzical eyebrow and leaned a bit closer. 

“Oh? And why would that be? I’ve seen you manage while far drunker than this.” he said somewhat jokingly, unintentionally dropping his voice to a lower register, skepticism increasing as he noticed Sans’ mischievous grin stretch wider.

“true, unfortunately, when it comes to pedestrian type stuff...” he said, letting the sentence hang and allowing Grillby’s suspicion to mount further. There was a sudden, abrupt popping sound that broke the silence between them, Sans casually lifted something into view and laid it on the bar-top. Grillby blinked, nonplussed, before sighing heavily and hanging his head. Sans snickered and snapped his fingers comically, smiling ear to ear as Grillby picked up his detached leg in one hand, the skeletal limb slack with a fuzzy pink slipper hanging off the toes. “...turns out, i dont have a leg to stand on!” he concluded emphatically, slapping the bar-top and screwing his eyes shut as laughter wracked him, wheezing through his teeth as Grillby silently walked around the bar to stand in front of him. The fire monster slung Sans’ leg over one shoulder, tapping his forefinger against the bone as he waited for Sans’ pun induced fit to subside, staring down at the skeleton with a long suffering expression affixed to his vague features. 

“If nothing else, I appreciate that you didn't pull this stunt with any customers around. This might come as a shock, but most monsters are somewhat unsettled by your ability to remove and reattach your ligaments at will, nullification tends to come across as ghastly rather than comically endearing.” Grillby said dryly, keeping his expression deadpan as Sans wiped away a bright blue tear from his cheekbone, mustering enough composure to lower himself to the floor and lean on his remaining leg. He looked up at Grillby with a self satisfied grin plastered across his face, the height difference between them doing little to change their dynamic, the fire monster unflappable and consummate to the skeletons persistent comedic antics.  

“aw come on grillbz, youre exaggeratin, monsters love that stuff. ive literally danced on my own skull before and everybody went dead quiet they were so impressed.” Sans said, chuckling as Grillby stared down at him impassively, holding out the length of bone for Sans to reattach. Sans raised a hand and wagged a finger, cocking an eyebrow and smirking up at Grillby, shaking his skull from side to side. “nu uh grillbz, im in no shape to put myself back together, guess youre gonna have to gimme a lift home.” Sans pushed the offered leg away and spread his arms, slumping against the stool at his back and grnning at Grillby expectantly, leading the bartender to sigh heavily and roll his eyes in resignation. He leaned down and wrapped his free arm around Sans’ torso, lifting the skeleton up and slinging him over his shoulder, grunting at the surprising amount of effort it took. Sans was unusually heavy for being made of nothing but bone, perhaps it had something to do with blue magic, or maybe he was just out of shape. Grillby worked his way around the chairs scattered haphazardly across the room, reaching the front door and trying to manipulate the handle with Sans’ leg still in his grasp, huffing exasperatedly and holding the limb in front of Sans’ inverted face. 

“Sans, would you please hold your leg so I can open the door?” he asked ruefully, holding Sans steady as the skeleton chuckled over his shoulder.

“sure thing grillbz, thisll gimme a real leg up.” he snarked, causing Grillby to run a hand down his face tiredly, holding back a snicker of his own as not to encourage any more leg based humor. The fire monster tugged open the door to his bar and stepped onto the streets of Snowdin, locking the latch behind him as he trudged out into the snow, pausing a moment to look around and take in the frigid morning. Snowdin was the textbook definition of a postcard town, his storefront gave the perfect view of the towering woods only yards away, swathes of snowflakes dancing and bouncing through the air as wind swept over the drifts. The neon glow of the sign above his head cast a solid orange aura over the snow at his feet, looking up at his own name emblazoned in such contrast to the quaint hamlet, Grillby wondered for the umpteenth time if it was a bit too...flashy for a place like Snowdin. Sans stirred under his arm, letting out a yawn and sniffing through his absent nose, absently picking bits of rock off the bottom of his slipper.

“thinkin bout your sign again, grillbz? im tellin ya, theres nothin wrong with it, everything else is way too dolled up in that holiday junk. yours has its own flair to it, its fitting, ya know? considering this place would have, like, zero nightlife without you.” Sans muttered, blinking and shaking his skull as an errant snowflake flew into his eye socket, Grillby chuckled and turned away from his bar to start walking up the street. Sans was always a staunch supporter of his business decisions, insisting that any doubts Grillby himself might have had were unfounded, the reassurances he gave so freely had been especially welcome when the bartender had first started out.

As Grillby crunched his way through the frost, the flames along his hands and head shuddered as chilling winds swirled around him, excited by the change in air temperature and oxygenation. Grillby sighed to himself as snowflakes melted before they could reach the surface of his body, steam steadily flowing off of him as the winter seemed to recede away, it was something he was used to at this point. Being a fire monster, Grillby had never experienced cold, the concept had just never factored into his life. Even living in Snowdin, where frigid snow and ice were a constant, he could walk about town and the adjacent wilderness in his normal attire without feeling so much as a shiver. Sometimes, watching his neighbors and customers wrapped in layers of coats struggling for warmth, Grillby wondered what it would be like to feel something other than pervasive and intrusive heat all of the time. With a start, he realized he’d almost walked straight past the skeleton house while he’d been daydreaming, shaking his head and internally chastising himself. What a way that would’ve been to end the night, blankly wandering into Waterfall with Sans passed out in his arms. 

Grillby approached the front porch and climbed unto the stoop with a huff, somewhat winded from lugging the skeleton slung over his shoulder across town, taking a moment to look up at the snowflakes twisting along the string of red and green lights draped over the large abode. Sans had been pretty quiet during the walk, somewhat surprising given how much he’d been drinking, Sans was anything but a meek drunk. Maybe he was just tired, Grillby could accept that easily, it was one of the things he and his best customer had in common. To that point, Grillby stifled a yawn and lifted Sans off his shoulder, beginning to lower him to the ground. “Alright, here we are Sans. Do try and get some rest, and please avoid losing track of any of your appendages again-” Grillby stopped mid-sentence as his head was suddenly jarred forward, nearly causing him to lose his balance. He looked down to see that as he’d been lowering him, Sans had wrapped his arms around his neck, leaving him hanging off the taller monster with only a half foot of space between their faces. 

“grillbz, wait...before ya go i...i got somethin i need to tell you.” Sans said, pupils zipping sluggishly yet erratically as he looked up at Grillby, voice strained with something the bartender hadn’t heard from him before. Nervousness, his grin wider and more anxious than normal, Grillby thought he might’ve seen a bead of sweat on his skull. Sans inhaled slowly and let out a shaky breath through his teeth, agitating the thin aura of steam curling around the flames of Grillby’s jaw, steeling himself and mustering the nerve to continue talking. “whew...okay, so...you and i have known each other a real long time, right? heh, probably feels a hell of a lot longer to me than it does to you.” he said, chuckling sadly to himself at a joke Grillby didn't fully understand, but the fire monster chose to stay silent and see where Sans was going with this. “look...im not perfect, got a mountain of problems hangin over my skull...hehehe, alright, that one wasnt on purpose. but seriously, im kinda a mess. dont take good care of myself, can barely hold down a job, and i keep it all buried deep...especially the worst stuff. undyne, alphys, asgore...even paps. i keep em all in the dark, smilin and jokin like nothins ever wrong...like im always okay.” Sans said, tone quiet and drained, barely above a whisper. Grillby could see a terrible weariness flicker within Sans’ eyes, and with half a thought of hesitation, placed his arms around Sans’ waist to hold him closer. He’d heard Sans talk like this before, many times the skeleton had confessed to just how much a façade he maintained day to day, still it wasn't easy for Grillby seeing him so forlorn. 

Sans’ sockets widened as he felt Grillby’s arms wrap around his body, his soul pulsed at the warmth spreading through their clothing and seeping into his bones, dispelling the insidious and doubtful cold that gripped him. Looking up at Grillby, seeing the open care and concern in his fiery visage, Sans couldn't help but continue despite his instincts to drop the subject entirely. “the truth is...theres really only one time i feel...i dunno...like the world isnt about to end for the millionth time. when im sittin in that bar, feelin relaxed and safe and free to say whatever i want...when im talkin to you.” Sans said softly, able to scrape together enough confidence to look Grillby in the eyes as he spoke, catching a flicker of conflicted surprise in the bartenders gaze. Grillby stared down at Sans, feeling a strange tactile sensation as the skeletons fingers brushed the base of his neck, physical contact with other monsters was a rarity already but this...was unlike anything he’d experienced before. Listening to Sans admit his feelings for him though, that elicited a more familiar stirring within his soul, a smoldering affection tinged with nostalgia. Their nerves grew more strained as silence dragged on, Grillby uncharacteristically at a loss for how to respond, leaving Sans’ emotional honesty faltering and desperation mounting. Just as Grillby drew a breath to speak, Sans tightened his grip around the fire monsters neck, tilting his skull and setting his jaw determinedly. “screw it.” he muttered, pulling himself up and pressing his face against Grillby’s, two lipless mouths rasping together in some approximation of a kiss. 

Sans shut his eye sockets briefly and sighed as flames traced between and over his teeth, drinking in a heat and energy so much more alive than his own, his soul sparking joyously in reaction. Grillby’s eyes widened and words died in his throat, his flames shuddering at the chilling touch of bone, a fiercely draining yet exhilarating sensation racing into his soul. This...this must be what cold felt like, so utterly apart from what Grillby had always known, he likely would have been more fascinated than shocked if it weren't for Sans’ teeth locked into his mouth. As Grillby’s mind spun and soul shivered with a plethora of tumultuous emotions, Sans broke the kiss and opened his sockets again, looking at Grillby with a more genuine and assured smile than the skeleton had showed in quite a long time. “i..uh, i love you. a lot and uh, wow, that was...yeah. hehehe, welp...” he chuckled, trailing off as he let go of Grillby’s neck and dropped down onto the doormat, somehow managing to reattach his leg before landing heavily on his feet. Sans tugged open the door to his home and stepped inside the darkened entryway, looking up at Grillby with a strange light dancing in his pupils, caught between buzzing elation and anxious disbelief. “gnight grillbz, thanks for the lift home.” with that, the skeleton shut the door and left the bartender standing stock still on the porch, arms loose at his sides and brain still reeling. 

After a few moments, he heard the muffled yet still distinctively loud sound of Papyrus’ voice, likely chastising Sans for getting home so late. It went silent about a minute later, and Grillby spent a long while after staring at the door of the skeleton household, replaying what had just happened again and again. Eventually, he turned around and began shuffling back down the street, still deep in thought as he turned the key into the lock of his bar. Before walking in and setting about cleaning up for tomorrow, Grillby paused and focused on the icy wind swirling around him, watching as snowflakes twisted along the tongues of flame on his hands. He thought about Sans, and that warmth sapping invigorating cold pulsed out from his soul, sending a shiver throughout his body. Grillby shook his head, confusion and curiosity besetting him at these alien sensations, stepping dazedly into his establishment and locking out the frigid night behind him. 

[skymade]

Willow Gone

   A drabble from Willow’s best friend, Eryk’s, point of view. It’s long, I’m sorry. These are the texts pertaining to this. 

   “Errie, how about today?”

   Eryk is lain across their bed, staring at the prune colored ceiling for the five-millionth morning in a row -- or so it feels. Little appears to be able to rouse them from their state.

   Their mother, aquamarine with cavernous holes littering her face -- a Meldonian -- stands at the doorway. Her tight, bright green hair curls with the consistency of seaweed fall from the crown of her head. They are the same curls that pull at Eryk’s own blue head. Her mouth is nothing but a large slit in the center of her face, but Eryk can understand both her question and the implications deep beyond it.

   They do not answer. Normally, Eryk’s love for their mother overrides all else, but now their love for someone else holds them, like chains, in their bed.

   “We love you, Errie,” she says, for the five-millionth morning in a row, circular fins with holes reaching towards them. Her voice always sounds as if it comes from deep underwater. “Whenever you're ready, you know. Seconds will wait for you.” She touches them, once, on the leg, then retreats. The door clicks behind her gently.

   Eryk closes their eyes and sees her. Not the mother they love -- their best friend. Dark curls, murky eyes, bright purple skin -- one of many things she was mocked for. Willow sky. She was their best friend, from the moment they met to the moment their mother told them she was gone.

   In a flash, Eryk can see their entire friendship. The moment she, in a flurry of curls and laughs, sat down next to them during lunch, introducing herself though uninvited. Trekking the mountains of Amyr, them wheezing and her laughing. Her splashing purple water at them and sticking out her tongue when they protested. Her hanging upside down in their hiding place, the storage unit, singing out of tune and changing the lyrics to fit her mood. The last time they saw her -- late at night, under the velvet sky, with stars sprinkling above them, her winking playfully at their gaze.

   Their eyes shut tightly at the images. Each memory is another chain that drags them down to their bed, leading with the terrifying crash of the moment Eryk woke up and saw their mother there. Their mother had never been allowed for extended stay upon planet -- Amyr rules -- and instantly, Eryk had felt sick.

   Dad’s dead, was Eryk’s first thought. I did something wrong. I failed my tests for Seconds. Mother is dying.

   But they had never expected the words that had come from their mother’s mouth, starting simply and gently.

   “Errie… when was the last time you saw Willow?”

   She was gone.

   Eryk presses their hands against their eyelids. Why hadn’t they told anyone when they saw the bruises on Willow’s skin? Why hadn’t they reported their fear for her life? Why didn’t they try harder? What if she were dead, as dead as her mother must be? And the most terrifying thought of all: What if she went off to Travel?

   She wouldn’t be able to survive. Not for a minute. Willow would have no idea what she’s doing. Though all evidence leads to her being upon another planet -- the loss of her mother’s tokens -- Eryk has been stubbornly refusing to believe it.

   Even with the possibility of her escaping with Tallow -- what her father currently believes -- Tallow can not care for Willow. What if he abandons her? What if he hurts her? What if she feels trapped?

   These thoughts have been circling in Eryk’s head for the eons it feels she’s been gone, but they haven’t abated, yet. Every day, Eryk wakes up to hear them repeat in perfect clarity.

   They’re sure they’re going insane.

   Eryk’s communicator chirps next to them. They never get messages. Curiosity wins over depression for the moment. They reach up, grabbing it off of the ivory table, and flip out the keyboard, making the screen light up.

   the will of the sky. (in range) 1 NEW MESSAGE.

   Eryk cannot stop the tears that immediately pour through their eyes as they select the message, quickly, shakily. They have always had what Willow called bleeding eyes, but they were sure the Terran expression was bleeding heart. And now, they are choking on it.

   It is a message from Willow.

   trvling mkes me ocean sick T_T ;-; ;(

   The words are so uniquely Willow -- down to the very last mark (or lack thereof) that Eryk begins sobbing harder.

   In a perfect world, they’d take time to control themselves. They’d wait until the feelings abated and let them breathe to reply. But they have not seen the words “in range” next to Willow’s name for a long time, so long they are afraid if they don’t reply immediately, she will disappear.

   Fuck you

   It’s all they can think to say.

   The response is so fast. 

   aw!! ;( dont b meeeeeeeean!!!

   Eryk is attempting to type a response, when another of Willow’s comes.

   i knw. i knw.

   Willow never left spell check on. Most Amyra didn’t. It came with switching languages -- it was easier to just type without having to change languages each time they wished to.

   Eryk closes their eyes, pushes their head towards the screen. Willow hardly types as… seriously… as her last message was.

   Eryk stares at the small, purple picture of Willow next to each message -- heart-shaped sunglasses, smiling at someone off-camera. Eryk took that picture for her. Eryk can still taste the air from that day, can still feel the grass beneath them. Of course, she’d taken the picture of the smoke that Eryk had always used as their picture. How many times had Eryk seen a message from Willow? Thousands. Millions. Almost constantly. Willow almost never stopped texting. But this message... these words... had such a new weight to them. 

   They hardly think as they reply.

   Where are you

   Because, of course, Eryk has to come get them. They’re already thinking to ask if they can borrow their mother’s ship when Willow replies, lightning fast as ever.

   u knw y i cnt tell u that ;C

   Just like you didnt tell me you were leaving, Eryk’s hands answer for them. They almost put a question mark -- they normally don’t because they feel it leaves the statement too hard -- but they choose not to in the last instance.

   u knw y i had 2 do that 2.

   Maybe I dont Willow, they reply. After hitting send, they add on in a new message, If you wanted to run away with someone you were dating, thats fine but you still could have told me first.

   Eryk locks the screen, sits up in finality after the period. They brush their hands at their face when another message lights up.

   ?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????? the fck r u tlkin about???!?!?! Im not d8in ny1!!!!!!!!!!! >:(

   Yeah. Like Id know that. Because you keep me so updated with whats going on in your life right

   It feels right, now, to be angry. Eryk hasn’t been angry this entire time. Only scared -- only sad. This feels right.

   At least there is some relief. Willow is not dating Tallow. Hopefully, he is not treating her the way others have treated her here.

   skies i mssgd u cuz i missed u!!!!! >:( >;c wht is ur problm????!!

   My problem is that my best friend left planet without saying anything and is now trying to pretend it isnt a big deal

   i ddnt have to mssg u u knw!!! i culdve stayed quiet!!!!!!!!!!! D:<

   Moments later, she’s back.

   lol… yes i did. ;c of course i hd to mssg u. ur my best friend eryk. still.

   And, in true Willow fashion, she launches into a tirade. They can just see her in their mind -- tongue out, concentration coursing through her body, bent over the screen as her fingers fly.

   mr. doom && gloom is gttin on my fckin nerves. im so done with him. D:<

   Officials think you ran off with Tallow, they reply.

   off. r rite. but only bcuz he hs a staff. eryk the nly reason i ddnt tell u ws bcuz i knw ud rate me out

   She means ‘rat me out’. Eryk feels more tears coming at just reading the words. They are trying to hold on to the good things: she’s alive. Tallow hasn’t abandoned her. She might be okay. They are trying not to think how far away she could still be -- trying not to wonder how close she may be to them for the first time in forever. 

   Holy skies Willow. I missed you

   i miss u 2. ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;((((((((((((((((((( emoticons arnt strong enuf :(

   I know what you mean, they type through their tears. They have to move their communicator far away enough to escape the downfall of water.

   When are you coming home, they add.

   There’s a pause.

   ……………………. eryk i cnt come bck 2 amyr. id be put to death for leavin

   Please, they try. Eryk has never been overly selfish before, but they cannot stop it. How can they live without their best friend?

   But when minutes pass and they get no response, they let out a breath of air and say, Are you happy

   its better than being on amyr if thats what you mean lol

   Her grammar improved. That means she had to think deeply about that reply. Eryk hesitates. Maybe she truly needs their help?

   I guess that is what I mean, they try. They don’t know what to say -- she said it was better than on Amyr. Better than when she was with Eryk. Better than when they were close.

   A long pause. Eryk doesn’t know what to say, but, as always, is saved by Willow.

   i hv a confession 2 make

   Okay

   i ddnt mssg u bcuz i missed u. tho i do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! dnt get me wrong!!!!!!!!! fckin FCK i miss u!!!!!!!! but i mssgd u… 2 say srry. ;C ;C  4 not saying gdbye. :c :c

   Eryk sighs and closes their eyes. Willow has never been very good at saying sorry.

   I dont know if I fully forgive you yet

   i knw. dnt blame u t_t

   They release a soft breath at the emotion -- runs their fingers over the image. If they had more Amyra in them, maybe they’d be blinking in and out from the intense feelings. They close their eyes and pray -- though praying was never something they did before Willow disappeared. Now, however, it seems to highlight their life. Almost every moment is spent in it. Willow believes so avidly in the sky -- it has to save her, doesn’t it? 

   Their phone chirps, calling them back. 

   mr. doom && gloom wnts 2 leave here soon.

   Eryk knows what that means before Willow types it, and immediately responds, Please

   im srry eryk

   Please dont go. Not yet

   pls dnt tell any1 i mssged u

   I wont, they type back, oh skies I wont just promise you wont go

   They will promise anything, now. Tears rolling down their face -- choking on them -- the volume of their sobs rising so much they hear their mother swaying up the stairs, coming to check on them.

   im so srry. i cnt do nythin. gates up. i love you eryk.

   She never types out ‘I love you’. Never. Never. Never.

   I love you too Willow. Please dont leave me

   bye

   “Willow!” They’re screaming at their phone, shaking it. “Willow!”

   Willow come back

   Willow please!

   Their fingers shake as the letters light up on the screen.

   Please please please. I cant do this without you

   WILLOW!

   And then the dreaded three words light up next to Willow’s name -- out of range -- and Eryk collapses as their mother throws open the door and wraps her arms around them.