Fullview of the 3rd of Pap’s Baby Bones picture from our askblog event! :D
Papyrus is approx. 13 years old in this picture! (If that jacket looks familiar, it’s cause Sans is good with his hands! )
There’s a story behind this picture, but the long and short of it is: Papyrus did an accidental bad thing, sought forgiveness with an apology cookie, and received it. Very confused and slightly alarmed.
Headcanon that Grillby is a father figure in Papyrus’ life and had a hand in helping raise him! :D
It's written in first person, but hopefully, it’ll help you guys as much as it helped me.
TW: Depression and apathy.
As soon as I woke up, I knew something was off. My head felt heavier and my limbs were harder to move, but I managed. Grillby was up already, per usual. He didn't wake me up, which was weird, but it was the weekend so I suppose it wasn't too odd.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I ran my hair pick through my messy curls a few times before splashing my face with water. I still looked like I hadn't slept in 10 years, but whatever. Finishing up, I left the bathroom and entered the kitchen. Peeking in the fridge, I stared at the milk and contemplated cereal, but my stomach twisted and a familiar guilty feeling nudged the edge of my consciousness. Instead, I made myself an instant protein drink with some milk and headed to the couch, cup in hand.
Grillby wasn't there. Turning around, I looked on the fridge for a note and found one.
Needed to pick something up. Will be back at lunch.
Alright then. A whole morning to myself. Pathetically, I looked around for something to do and drew up blanks. Writing maybe?
I grabbed my laptop and settled on the couch. Opening my google drive, I contemplated what to do. Fanfiction or something original. I wasn't feeling particularly creative, so I opened my transformative folder and scrolled through the options. I picked the Hobbit on a whim.
After reading through some of my half-written fics, I closed the tab with a sigh. No, that wasn't right. I scrolled through Tumblr for a few minutes, reading through some of the posts I missed while I slept. I opened up a few fanfics I was behind on and caught up. I checked the time.
11 o'clock. Just about 30 minutes spent doing basically nothing.
Cursing, I closed my laptop and leaned back into the couch. On a whim, I turned on the TV and sipped my drink as I skimmed through my options. Lost, I picked a random cooking show and stared at the screen despondently as Gordon Ramsey shouted a people. What was I doing?
I finished my drink and set it aside, leaning back into the couch. My eyes found a particularly blank spot on the wall and I stared it down. Why couldn't I find anything to do? What did I do normally? Getting up from the couch, I unplugged my phone from its charger and opened the messaging app. Who would I message? Setting my phone down roughly, I leaned my face on my hands. God, I felt worthless. I had nothing to do, no one to talk to, no activities to occupy myself with. I almost felt like crying, but there was no stinging sensation behind my eyes.
Re-entering the living room, I collapsed on the couch and stared blankly at the TV. Time passed quickly and slowly at the same time. Each minute seemed to take an agonizingly long time to complete, and yet every single one felt too quick and wasted. Wasted by me.
When I heard the door click open, I flicked my eyes to the doorway. Grillby was slipping his shoes off, a plastic bag hanging in one of his hands. He seemed to sense my gaze because he lifted his head to stare at me. At once I was up, crossing the floor with quick strides. Standing on my toes, I looped my arms around the back of his neck and pressed my face into his shoulder. The hand that wasn't holding the bag automatically went to the small of my back.
Warmth seeped through his clothes into my cold body, and I gripped him tighter. Tiny tears escaped my eyes as I cried in relief. Feeling my tears, he set the bag down gently and used his now free hand to scoop me up. Being carried was odd, but the sensation didn't last long as he sat on the couch, settling me in his lap.
I pulled away from his shoulder. Our faces were close, but not touching. I couldn't look him in the eye, instead opting to stare at his collar.
"I'm sorry," I choked out, biting back more tears. My hands grasped his shoulders, and while one of his still rested on my back, the other came up to press against my face. His flames were gentle and warm, causing more tears to fall. They evaporated on impact.
"Are you alright?" he asked simply, pressing his forehead to mine. I was forced to make eye contact and my breath skipped as I sobbed.
"I don't think so."
He pulled me into him, completely enveloping me in his arms. My hands grasped each other just behind his neck, and one of his rested on the back of my shoulder, pressing me to him. Gasping for breath, I sobbed quietly, only the occasional hiccup escaping me. My head felt like it was going to explode and my heart throbbed in my chest. I was spiraling, but Grillby's warm and soil form anchored me.
I don't know how much time passed, but eventually, my tears lessened, leaving me exhausted and limp in Grillby's arms. He pulled back slightly and looked down at my hands.
"Have you eaten?"
"Breakfast."
"What did you have?"
"A protein drink. What time is it?"
He glanced at the clock over my shoulder. "Nearly two."
"Oh."
"I will be right back." Grillby stood, setting me on the couch, before heading to the kitchen. I listened to him put together a lunch and guilt stabbed my heart. He returned quickly, carrying some hummus and warmed pita bread. Pulling the coffee table closer, he set the food there. "Is that fine?"
I nodded and ate quickly. I hadn't noticed it before, but my hands were shaking. Grillby ate beside me silently, his body close enough so that our legs were pressed together. Once I ate my fill, I dusted off my hands and flushed. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For being so pathetic," I dropped my face into my hands to hide. "I'm an adult, I should be able to deal with my issues by myself. You shouldn't have to deal with them. I'm sorry."
"You do deal with them on your own. Even without me, you would've gotten something for yourself eventually. You have too much perseverance to waste away."
"Not enough to care for myself, apparently," I muttered into my hands. Grillby set a gentle hand on my shoulder and softly pulled me back so that I would face him.
"You care for yourself just fine. It is not your fault that you have moments."
"It's not your fault either."
"But," he interrupted, his voice crackling and warm, like a home's hearth. "If I can help at all. If I can make it just a little easier, I will. Gladly. I love you."
A small, affectionate smile broke across my face, and I felt tears gathering again. "God, I'm so emotional right now. Thank you. I love you too." I pressed a soft kiss where I knew his lips to be before pulling back and hugging him again, this time with more strength.
In that moment, I wasn't good, but I was okay. And that was what mattered.
