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bakerstreet2016-04-30 07:09 pm
onlycareaboutshipping) wrote in bakerstreet2016-04-30 07:09 pm
You deserve to be happy.
 If we're honest, fictional characters can be generalized into two camps: 1. good people who have crap happen to them or 2. just crappy people. But bad or good, cheery or grouchy, undeserving or no, we sometimes shamelessly want them to have something nice in life. Or, more accurately, someone nice. A certain someone to give them kisses and their favorite foods, to make sure they have a blanket when they fall asleep, and maybe to whisk them away on fun dates/adventures? If they're lucky, this somebody may even give killer back rubs. But forget your shame, okay? No judgement here. This is just a cute meme for all your gross (shipping) needs, where your character can get all the happiness they deserve...or don't. Whatever!
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Rey | SW:TFA | OTA
Azula | Avatar: The Last Airbender | F/M
Leonard Snart | Flash/DC's Legends of Tomorrow
Clarice "Blink" / Xmen / OTA
Fiona Gallagher | Shameless (US) | OTA | M/F shipping
Saya Masaki | Neon Sign Amber | m/m
Kyle | Kyle XY
Grillby | Undertale | OTA
/boards the express train to hell
In the wake of the fall of the Barrier, a kingdom-wide effort had been made to organize a somewhat orderly evacuation of the Underground, and in preparation for their turn, the normally sleepy little town had seen a surge of activity as residents eager to start their new lives on the Surface began packing up their lives.
Some homes were already emptied, as eager families slipped through the proverbial cracks. The Royal Guard, while no longer serving in their former roles, were stretched too thin in trying to keep order, and a few were easily bribed with dog treats and sufficient petting.
Through it all, Grillby's remained open, and local rumor had it the fiery proprietor had done so to make sure the locals had somewhere to eat when their kitchens were all packed up. Needless to say, this meant business had been very good.
The skeleton brothers were more or less packed up, too -- with the exception of Sans, who hadn't bothered packing a single thing. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had done the majority of the work there. In fact, that's probably the kind of responsibilities he's shirking when he shows up at the bar while last call's ended and patrons have started filing (and in some cases, staggering) out into the stale, frigid, subterranean air.
He nudges the door shut with his heel, shuffling in with the usual slouchy posture, the usual grin. ]
Crowd gets a little smaller everyday.
Hey, Grillbz. Thought you'd wanna little company while you closed up.
gayseal.jpg? either way i'm on this train with you friend
His regulars were there as always, but now they were bumping elbows or wings or paws with monsters from across the Underground. Even the occasional monster who had been ahead on the evacuation schedule returned, unable to give up the magic of Grillby's food just yet. The restaurant was constantly full to bursting, and the low murmur that Grillby had gotten used to hearing from his patrons had turned into a dull roar.
It was more than a little overwhelming, if he was honest. And of course, his good friend was reading his face as accurately as ever. He must have seen the strain in his usual spark when he visited this afternoon... It should almost be frustrating, how observant Sans is, but Grillby still can't help a small chuckle as Sans steps into the restaurant, noting with relief that he can actually hear himself laugh now.]
Does it really? It feels just as busy as ever... Good evening, Sans.
[He turns to stack some glasses, but looks over his shoulder with a hidden smile.]
Company, hm...? A noble gesture, if I didn't have a feeling you're here to add to your tab instead of paying it off.
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[ Seems... final.
Closing on a chapter of his life that he's been slogging through more times than he can count is new. He's daring to hope for something past tomorrow. Still counting the days since the Barrier fell without a Reset. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the next day gets just a little brighter, just a little more reliable.
Maybe Sans isn't as ready to close as Grillby might be. ]
'Sides, we found something while packing up.
[ More honestly, while Papyrus was packing up.
There seems to be a bundle tucked into the crook of his elbow, but between his slouchy posture and the way his rumpled hoodie has a way of erasing his shape (while adding inches of bulk to the otherwise diminutive frame), it's hard to tell just what it is until he extracts it.
He places it on the bar.
It's a bottle of deep amber liquid with a stained label, still dusty (from being forgotten, as opposed to the... Uh, usual reason a thing might get covered in dust in Underground culture) save for where his sleeve had rubbed against the blown glass.
A crate of old scotch had shown up in the Junkyard once, and some entrepreneurial monster had snatched them up and sold them in the capital at a premium, once. They made fairly sought-after commodities, but how Sans and his skeletal brother ever managed to get their phalanges on one -- let alone a nearly full bottle -- was anyone's guess. Papyrus didn't know where it had come from. Sans had remembered it from a holiday party, lifetimes ago, a bunch of white coats and laminate badges gathered around for a toast--
He never saw those monsters again when he took his brother and moved out to Snowdin. He'd almost forgotten, but couldn't really stand to have it around the house. ]
Thought I'd contribute to the cause, for a change.
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[Grillby isn't as much of a joker as his greatest
friendcustomer, but the teasing tone is still clear in his voice, though it wavers a bit at the mention of the surface....It really does feel final. He hasn't been up on the surface in ages. In fact, after the war, he was sure he'd never be allowed up there again. He'd taken that fact in stride, starting a stable business, confident that he would be here as long as he existed.
To go back to the surface... to change his mind about everything and step onto the territory of humans again, as a friend... It feels uncomfortable. Everything would be unfamiliar, nothing like the bar he's spent years making his life's work, his business and his home.
Perhaps that's why he's still open. Perhaps that's why his kitchen looks as stocked as ever.
Perhaps Sans isn't the only one who hasn't been packing.
He's distracted from his reverie by the sound of glass clunking against the wood of his counter, and he looks up to discover the bottle of scotch. For a moment, his eyes widen so much they're visible behind his glasses.]
Sans... where in the world...?
[He had been trying to haggle for a bottle or two for his restaurant a long while back, but as a young upstart, he barely had the money to keep his business's doors open. He had taken it in stride, as he had everything else in his life, but here Sans was, challenging his acceptance.
He manages to muffle his laughter.]
I shouldn't be making such a fuss over this, should I? After all, I'll be able to buy plenty of bottles now. Still... thank you very much.
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Yeah, for his old pal? He'll try. Least he could do, after everything.
Watching Grillby's surprise dawn across his face is worth every year that bottle spent gathering dust. Yeah, he figured if there was anybody he knew in the whole Underground, it'd be this guy who appreciates the good stuff. Sans shakes his head as his shoulders rise and fall. ]
Doesn't matter where I found that bottle. The real question you should be asking is...
[ And as he climbs up onto a bar stool, leaning forward all the way until he can pluck a pair of glasses out from behind it. ]
How far into it are we gonna make tonight?
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But he can see something flash in the lights of Sans' eyesockets. Thankfully, the question distracts him, and he laughs a bit more audibly this time around, pulling the glasses away from Sans and placing them on the table.]
I shouldn't be drinking while on duty...
[The wink is practically audible in his voice.]
So I would appreciate it if you would flip the sign on the window to 'closed' for me.
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heartbrokendisappointed that they drifted apart like that. And that's going to make him even more sappy about the wedding, dammit.))no subject
Monsterkind has lived on the surface for a good few years, now - long enough that humanity is once again more used to thinking of them as neighbors rather than stories. Long enough that even Sans had finally come to believe that a reset was never going to come.
More or less everyone had settled into their various lives and professions. Sans, after Papyrus had received his first decoration on the local police force, had decided that it was about time to find out what sort of life or profession he wanted in the first place. He wasn't sure if he'd ever really known.
So he'd been traveling for the last year or so, hitchhiking or taking shortcuts, taking odd jobs here and there. And Sans had been surprised to find how much he'd enjoyed it - so much so, in fact, that it felt genuinely strange to be back in the city where most of his friends had first settled. So much so that he'd really only thought to come back at all because Papyrus had told him about the wedding and said it was okay if he showed up.
And it was only now, during the reception, that Sans was starting to appreciate that maybe he hadn't been the greatest at keeping in touch. He'd certainly kept in touch with Papyrus...but he'd sort of assumed that Papyrus would just let everyone else know how he was doing. And he'd let finding out how anyone else was doing just slip his mind.
It was a sobering thought at what had otherwise been a joyously happy occasion. Fuka and her new husband had been great, of course, assuring Sans that he was more than welcome. But now that he was faced with a room full of people, of old friends...Sans didn't know where to start, and found himself paralyzed at the idea of trying.
Fortunately, he was still smaller than most monsters, wearing a suit that didn't quite fit him right. It was easy to get lost in the crowd while he tried to catch his breath. Or at least, that had been his hope, as he sat at a corner table nursing a drink and watching the sparkling, boisterously noisy room around him.
A brighter glow becoming visible out of the corner of his eye, however, alerted Sans that he might not have been so successful.
He looked over just in time to offer Grillby a tired, sheepish smile.]
i always cry at weddings.
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He had a lot of work to do, after all. He didn't have time to miss an old friend. He could reminisce about their time together if he had to, but he shouldn't have been so... broken-hearted about it. Grillby had never made their relationship particularly strong. They were... acquaintances. Acquaintances who could come and go from each others lives, time together as fleeting as a candle in the wind. Sans could leave, and Grillby could focus on his job, on his daughter's wedding, on all the other things that preoccupied his time.
...And then Sans could return, and just the sound of his friend's voice could promptly fling him back in time so abruptly he could almost smell well-done burgers and hear the jukebox skipping and stuttering through a jazz song. He forces himself to come back to the reception around him, take in the constant murmur of people and the clink of glasses and his daughter glowing brighter than ever on the dance floor.
And Sans, sitting next to him, not in his usual hoodie but in awkwardly-fitted suit, grinning like this was just where he belonged.
For a moment, Grillby just stares in shock, unsure where to even begin. There are so many emotions within him that he's never once experienced before, and all he can think to do with them is set them aside so his usual level-headed reasoning can help him through this strange reunion. Still, his nerves show in the flickering of his flame, in the way his fingertips cause the wood of the table to smoke before he lifts them off and rests them in his lap.]
I can't say I've had the same luxury, but... it was a very moving ceremony. Welcome back, Sans.
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Which only makes this reunion even stranger. How do you go about telling someone that you only realized how important they were once they were gone?]
thanks. i, uh, i guess i'm papyrus' "plus one"? [Sans chuckles to himself, glancing away for a moment to cast his gaze over the dance floor in search of his brother.] i was surprised when he mentioned this. but it was great of fuka to have me.
[It's obvious to Sans that Grillby is feeling just as anxious as Sans is, though he assumes it must be for different reasons. Maybe his friend is trying not to be angry at his daughter's wedding. Sans can respect that. He supposes it's his responsbility to take the next plunge, in light of...everything else.]
s-so, uh. [Hoping that his voice isn't wavering too much, Sans leans a little nearer to Grillby and offers him a brighter, hopeful sort of smile.] how've you been? guess this little shindig must have kept you busy, huh?
Natasha Romanoff | MCU| OTA
Re: Natasha Romanoff | MCU| OTA
Thea Queen l Arrow
Bruce Banner l MCU l ota