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Sauhuta verb | to give off smoke
"Grills I am fucking stuck."
*Grillby nods sagely and presses their foot against the door, pointing at the sign that says âFIRE EXITâ in large print. Oh, wait. Common monster language. Not wingdings. Haha, whoops.
*Grabbing Gaster from underneath the shoulder and giving a tug, they try to remove him from the serving window in the door that was truly only made for plates to pass through and nothing else, but alas, Gasterâs sizeable hips ainât getting through there. Itâs like that Winnie the Pooh book, only with burgers instead of honey and a horribly dangerous ball of salty rage instead of a stuffed bear. Huh.
*Maybe Grillbert was gonna have to get the butter out for this one.
T;Panicking Flames
*Grinning sheepishly now, they nod in agreement, writing on their fireproofed notepad and giving it to MK again.
ââŚWant anything else? Cherry wood tastes pretty nice, but itâs a lot of chewing. Olive oil is nice too!~~â
MK shook his head, âNo.. Iâm not really all that hungry,â he said simply.
âIf you can prevent it from happening wouldnât it just be like better if you did it?â he asked. âIâm sure someone would stay with you if you needed it.â
*A frown, then Grillby smiles sadly, shrugging slightly as they write down a response.
â...I suppose. But I guess I just assume itâs too much trouble for anyone.. I donât actually have many close friends... one...,.. maybe two... and they have their own problems i need to support them on! I guess iâve gotten used to it.â
*Okay this shit is gettIGNG really fricking old now it wont stop raiNING
*when am i ever gonna get drafts done w/thiss shti

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People who âdonât understandâ trans, nb, & generally people who arenât cis make me laugh because fuck i donât understand Korean but I still know itâs a real fucking language
royalsentrytarma liked your photo:*Everymun canât believe that its raining AGAIN....
*After taking one look at the exposed arms, Grillby immediately adds arm covering and some gauntlets to the outfit. They hazard a guess that the back exposure might be intentional, though, and avoid adding something that would weigh too heavily on it just in case.
*Of course, Grillbert has a huge soft spot for plaid, and they like the juxtaposition of it with the black armor.
*Everymun canât believe that its raining AGAIN. Which is super bad for zis arthritis. So zieâs not doin writing on the today.
*Instead, like this post if you want Grillbert to make an outfit for your character on polyvore. Yeah, I know, I do this most of the time, but itâs easy and fun.
*Feel free to message me if you think i should make the whole polyvore outfit thing a regular part of the blog, whether its Undernet related or an actual clothing boutique.
I opened up Undertale and decided that I might as well grab some screenshots of Napstablook being referred to with they/them pronouns.Â
*Everymun might be offline for an unspecified amount of time. Someone made a reference to a meme made from a newscast about [REDACTED] and Everymun is having trouble remaining in the present.
*feel free to ask for my skype via the message system i am fragile and need constant words to stop my brain from do the thing.

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hi, i know this is really random and probably silly since we've never talked before, but... i wanted to thank you. i wanted to thank you for linking that spoon theory on your about, because as someone with severe mental issues to the point of being unable to function well most days, i relate to this theory, and i think it sums up illness and/or disability so well. i literally teared up reading it. linking this to other people will hopefully help others make more sense of my own illnesses, tooâ
âso again, thank you. thank you so much. i'm just a random stranger roleplaying a skeleton online, and you are a stranger roleplaying grillby, yet you've touched my life in a very special way tonight. thank you so, so much.
*I- holy crap yeah i just.
*Itâs become such a huge part of my vocabulary that I linked it on my blog because sometimes Iâll use the phrase âspoonsâ, but then people ask me what that means...
*...And usually I dont have the spoons to explain what i meant. Then it just feels like a reminder, so i leave it on my blog so i dont have to explain the terminology constantly.
*I am so, so glad that spoon theory could help your life, friend. Itâs just so important for people to understand what living with any disability is like, and Iâm here if u ever need someone to talk to about stuff. So uh, alternatively, welcome to the blog!
*Updated the About to explain Grillbertâs timeline/verse situation a bit better.
*Heyyyyyyaaaaaaaayyyyy is there anyone i havent roleplayed with yet that wants to plot???
*If so feel free to like this post and iâll message u or u can message me or whatev
Since memories triggered by scent are the strongest...
Send my muse a scent and see how theyâll react to it.
Had Gaster not paused to think of what else to steam about he might have missed their words. Despite itâs hushed intonation the Royal Scientist couldnât help that his mouth turned upwards as a bark of laughter escape him. The way in which he expressed himself could be seen as viscerally cruel, but one had to take into account that Gaster was a cruel monster by nature, and his amusement was genuine. He just happened to show it by laughing as if he had just killed someone.
âIt is weird,â he affirmed, shoulders still shaking somewhat. Once he was certain his chortles wouldnât spill the drink Gaster picked up the glass to take a filling gulp.
âBut the Royal Court thinks we live a thousand years in the past, so it is unsurprising their codes of conduct have become stale.â He rolled his eyes at the Courtâs decisions. They had lived for so long and yet found it fit to live in closure whilst demanding others do all the work, content in growing moss and talking amongst themselves. Gaster almost envied the other for leaving. Politics were boring. âI shudder to think that will become us one day, if we ended up⌠livingâŚ. that longâŚâÂ
The scientistâs words tapered off as he was presented his meal. The inviting aroma, coupled by his body realizing it would receive food with more nutritional value than a cup of tasteless noodles, caused his mouth to water he had to be careful less he drool all over the countertop.
âThank you for the meal.â
Those were perhaps the last coherent words Gaster could offer before he picked up the burger, of which size managed to dwarf his hands. It didnât outmatch his mouth though, opening wide to practically show the back of his throat while he sunk this porcelain fangs into the meat. He didnât exactly care for propriety at the moment but he tried his best to keep the sauce from staining his coat; Grillby had already seen him at worse, back when he hunted his own food and didnât bother cooking it. Gaster still preferred his prey raw, but since he couldnât chase after live prey anymore, this was the best substitute available.
Well, Grillbertâs food was still his favorite. If he didnât have to trek into Snowdin to eat it he was positive he would eat it every day of his life. The siren song of grease continued to be the only thing to yank him out of his lab every few weeks.
In between breathing and consuming Gaster still took sips of the wine glass. He frowned every time his pinkie went up, a learned habit he didnât much care for since he was never told why he had to put his finger like that. By the time he was nearly finished with the meal he was sufficiently tipsy, and had only drunken a single glass. âHmmmmmmmmmmm.â He hummed without a tune, lightly kicking his feet from his seat.Â
*Grillby nods at the statement, and crackles amusedly as Gasterâs words fade away almost immediately upon seeing the food, watching the way he positively drools as the smell of meat hits him, admires the way his eyes light up when he sets eyes on it. They enjoy seeing Gaster happy, and would just about put themself in harms way to see that he was happy more often. Thinking, Grillbert realized that was kinda... more intimate than they intended to feel towards their friend, but they were always close and Grillby was one that always felt things a bit stronger than anyone else. Compared with the way theyâve never actually been taught about romance or friendship, left to learn about both from watching their mothers, it was easy to see why they had trouble separating the two thought processes into separate things. Theyâre still trying to figure it out when they realize theyâve been staring probably entirely too long at Gaster as if he were a particularly exquisite painting in a museum.
*Gaze falling over the scars of his eyes, they shudder slightly as tunnel vision takes over their senses, leaving them aware of nothing else but the memory of those scars still fresh, the screams, the humans, everything jarring and vivid as if theyâd just been doused with particularly cold water. Why now? Why couldnât Grillbyâs mind let them have one moment of enjoyment without immediately bringing up the pain that had come before it?
*Trying to push the vision from their mind only made it more vivid, curled the scent of cooked meat into the memory of flesh as they tried to fix what had been done, the smell of wine bringing back the memory of alcohol to numb the pain as they brushed white-hot fingers over too-deep wounds trying to keep Gaster from bleeding out or getting infected, the ugly sounds that heâd made at their own hand. It was a vivid sound that you never could scrub from the back of your mind, something like choking. The world went sideways abruptly, but the sensation of their arm crumpling under them reminded them of the sensation of humans piling blankets over them when theyâd been found hiding in the alley. Grillby thrashes out instinctively with the other arm in panic, smashing the heat out of it until itâs no longer burning.
*They stare blankly at the floor, sideways against their face, and the fridge door theyâd just dented. Well, that was certainly a thing that had happened. It would probably be prudent for Grillby to remove themself from the floor and apologize to Gaster. Yes, that would definitely be the thing to do right now. Grillbert stares at the dent, at the soft flicker of their flames reflected, trying to remind themselves that they shouldnât just lie there, but the sudden presence in reality was very distracting and soothing.
*It takes another minute before Grillby finally lifts their head from the floor, rolling themselves up into a sitting position with momentum before they shake their sleeves out to return heat to their arms and give them shape once again. They focus a little too long on straightening out their shirt, avoiding standing up again, knowing Gaster might be looking at them. Ugh. Why did their memory have to do this to them constantly? They just wanted to read books and be happy. They didnt ask for this sort of mess.
*Maybe if they brush it off as a joke, itâll be ok! Grillbert stands up abruptly, leaning an elbow on the bar and gazing in Gasterâs direction, giving a thumbs up with their other hand, and a grin for good measure.

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The person I reblogged this from is someone I enjoy seeing on my dashboard.
"Grillby, do you like cats?"
*Tilting their head at the inquiry as they polish a glass, mulling the question over a minute. To be honest, they really liked any animal, but they had a bit of a soft spot for cats. All cats reminded them of one of the Gasters they knew best, and they always appreciated him as a dear friend.
*In a phrase, cats were shaped like a friend.
*Grillby nodded brightly, crackling slightly. Cats were good.