#v; skelebun on fire
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And for the knuckles Ferno goes, taking Fell’s hand and bending to press a smooch right over one of his rings. ‘I ever tell ya how good these look on you? Pretty things suit ya, Boss.’
@spookyscientistskeleton || unprompted
❝ a couple times, yeah. ❞ not that those words had grown weary of him... specially not when fashion had never been something the skeleton particularly struggled with despite wearing the same getup -- or variants of it -- on a constant basis.
and gold, sans had found, wore him well.
remarkably well for a guy with neither flesh nor skin.
❝ 'preciate it, sweetheart. ❞ his knuckles rose to meet where the flames were denser in the form of a face, running over a fiery cheek with purple fire licking instinctively at every gap of his phalanges. kissing the fabric of his half-gloves without burning. ❝ i mean it. ❞
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@hoopsheartthrob
‘... Hahaha, honeybun, you’re not helpin’ right now...’
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His finger scrolls idly through his messages. Stalling over one particular thread. It used to be that it was always the first place he went, when he was feeling low, when he was close to slipping off the wagon, when every morning felt like an exercise in pointlessness.
He hasn’t opened it in a few months. He doesn’t know if he should feel guilt for still holding onto it, or guilt for letting it go. Finding something--however unconventional and at times downright shaky--that kept him going. He can understand why Sans holds onto some messages. He can understand that it’s not just laziness. There is... that urge there, isn’t there? To keep a memorial of what came before. It’s hard to explain. All the moreso when tempers are flaring.
Ferno sighs, letting his phone fall back into his lap.
They all had a past, after all.
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@megalobonia
‘I-I mean, you know, I done some wild shit in my time too, man, it’s cool! We’re cool! It looks like, ah... everybody had a good time!’
#'the important thing is ya had fun :)'#'and that we don't ever add Never Have I Ever to our throuple game night :)'#megalobonia#v: skelebun on fire
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‘I’m not... not jealous, but mostly I’m just impressed. Go big or go home, right?’
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💀 you KNOW
Send 💀 to see what my muse would leave yours in their will || Accepting!
Grillby leaves her his recipe book. Sans's favorites have long been earmarked--he trusts she'll be able to find them.
As said in the reply for Milky, I think he leaves BunnyBones to both of them, with the assumption that they'd probably sell the place. Other stuff he'd leave though:
His motorcycle.
I feel like he'd leave a lot of his cooking stuff, since she'd expressed an interest in learning. Everything he had at home, and then also some of his favorite and most well-worn tools at the restaurant. She'd get his recipe book too, though... good luck parsing through it, because it would be a jumbled mess.
On that note--Lola gets the shark coochie board.
His music. Since they both were into 80s rock and all, he'd leave her his records and his vinyl player.
Another cute thought I had just now as I was writing this post--the booth at BunnyBones that's permanently on reserve for Fell and Lola, always gets the same dish set, glasses, and cutlery. He'd leave those to both of them too.
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@megalobonia
‘Heyyyy, come on, come on, both’a you. It’s cool, we all got a past.’ Sans isn’t the only one with a lot of history on his phone, after all. ‘Let’s all just take it easy. No more shoutin’, no more snipin’, let’s all just chill.’
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"I heard that youuu... are the cutest boy in the whole wide world." :D Ferno <3
"I heard that you ____" || Accepting!
If the big, bright grin that spread out on his face wasn't enough of an indication of his delight, the lilac-brightness of his flames and the gentle sunshine-like heat that filled the room would've made it very clear. He scoops her up in his arms with a laugh, pressing a warm kiss to her cheek as he spins her around.
Goddamn, how’d he get this lucky?
'Hearin' that from the cutest girl in the whole wide world? Damn, honeybun, that's some high praise!'
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ot3 dynamics
fell sans:
- “man of the house”
- also known as “large and in charge” or “boss”
- extremely dominant, possessive and can get a bit controlling.
- patience for bs in the negatives
- can get aggressive when upset
lola:
- “the she-pimp”
- also known as “the brat” or “troublemaker”
- likes to stir shit on occasion
- very proud of her boyfriends despite everything
- enjoys being chased after
ferno:
- “the housewife”
- also known as “malewife” or “waifu”
- very affectionate
- will prepare you food and worry about you all the time
- losing years of his life when his partners fight.
#v; skelebun on fire#hoopsheartthrob#spookyscientistskeleton#( since all 3 of us sorta mutually stalk each other i'm not even gonna @ u guys#u will come across this eventually lol )#skelebun on fire
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stop hiding your feelings.
send ‘stop hiding your feelings!’ for my muse to finally break down their walls.
@hoopsheartthrob
this fucking bitch...
❝ tch, get off my dick. ❞ there was a hidden appeal in being accosted like that by such a tiny, yet fierce thing that had the blood within his bones rushing all the way to his skull. and it was in enjoying it a little too much that sans detested that attitude.
because he couldn’t hope to control his reactions that came in tow.
shifting his gaze away from her, not having noticed the blood moon of one of his eyesockets had dimmed in the bane of his embarrassment, the skeleton lifted a hand as if to shield himself from the sun-- and the sun was glaring at him from below.
annoyance was quick to shift, like twilight before dawn.
❝ ...fine. yeah, it bothers me when ya say shit like that. ❞ that it bothered him was noting new. but why did he react so strongly whenever lola touched that sore spot?
it was his turn to flip the tables, show her that straight flush against her four of a kind, because he couldn’t stand her fucking attitude anymore. he couldn’t stand the way his soulheart invited unwelcomed ache whenever lola so much as implied she preferred another over him. sure, they both did love ferno, but...
❝ don’t go playin’ dumb on me now, ❞ the skeleton stood his ground, pressing forth a step to force her into retreat. the single blood moon within his stare held her gaze. ❝ ya feel the same i do an’ if i pulled that card on ya, you wouldn’t like it either. guy or not. ❞ if he knew it so well... then why the insecurity? slamming a hand to the wall behind her head, sans pushed a thumb against her trachea. knowing the man, with every intention to draw pain. ❝ ‘cause love just doesn’t cut it, does it? it doesn’t explain what’s goin’ on between you an’ i. we both know that. ❞ it was stronger than that... it went beyond that.
but there was no word invented for one such feeling quite yet.
sans took another step, didn’t stop until she was sandwiched between his body and the wall, her own pressed flush against the overwhelming presence of his form. he liked that... cornering her this way like hunter to prey.
his prey.
❝ it’s like watchin’ yer fucking soulmate call someone else more special than you, and don’t get me wrong, i love the guy too... a lot. we both do. but that shit ya keep pullin’ on me fucking hurts, lola. ❞
without withdrawing from her neck, a fist buried itself into the wall, veins of plaster branching out from the source. blood began to seep into them as well. its pacing slow as molasses, and as harrowing as death by poison.
❝ ya know it hurts. an’ i dunno if this is yer way o’ testin’ just how deep these feelings run, or how far ya can stretch ‘em ‘fore they snap, but if ya value ‘em, dammit lola, i’d stop firin’ bullets to test for endurance ‘fore it’s too late. ❞
it was the most venting he’s ever done in a good, good while.
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#( fell putting chains around his partners' necks#so that everyone knows ''who the fuck'' they belong to#hear me out this man is /possessive/#if anyone fucks with lola or fern#they'll have to settle things with fell ;) )#; hc#v; skelebun on fire#ot3 verse
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A text notification flares up on Sans's phone, a few hours after he stormed out of the treehouse. Fired off from Ferno's phone, as he lays on the couch, a very tired out little bunny asleep on his chest.
[txt] || look i don't know whats going on with you tonight
[txt] || Take your time, get your head straight. but come back soon. ok?
[txt] || you said it didn't have nothin to do with me but that's not true. Im in this with you both.
[txt] || We can figure it out. But not if you aint here.
[txt] || door's unlocked for ya. night boss.
sometimes it felt as though the skeleton had gotten himself into a relationship with two wives-- lola and ferno himself, specially in those moments where damage control came in the form of frantic texts blowing up his phone as spitfire took up the mediator role he was, no doubt, slowly familiarising himself with. a courtesan came by-- offered the skeleton some company for the night. he brushed her off with a fleeting nah, i’m good and went back to his phone, tuning out the electronic drumbeat of yamaguchi-gumi’s casino nightclub in vegas in favour of picking his own brain for a response.
[txt] ok.
it took him a few minutes and several moments of user is typing to come up with just that at the end. pouring himself another one, his gaze went back to the pole-dancing women on top of a risky millions’ worth russian roulette game, watching them without seeing. his thoughts miles from the place, in the city of angels where he knew there was an open door waiting for his return.
@spookyscientistskeleton || ferno
#; ic#; ask response#spookyscientistskeleton#| | ❝ don't let the shadows kill your light. even if my darkness becomes your sunrise ❞ | | spookyscientistskeleton#v; skelebun on fire#| | ❝ dust of my friends & blood of my foes ❞ | | fell sans
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ot3 time.🕐 what this guy calls:
lola = angel, dearest, sugar, sweets, baby girl, that b.itch
ferno = spitfire, darlin’, honey, fern, baby boy, that f.uckin punk
umbrella terms: sweetheart(s), s.lut(s)
w/ @hoopsheartthrob & @spookyscientistskeleton
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@megalobonia
He hadn’t been back here in years.
Probably not since before... whatever it was that had happened with the human, after they all got up to the surface. Even before then, coming back had been hard--watching the bar he’d put so much of himself into gradually being overtaken by the elements. But... something had told him to come back down today.
Stepping through the old doorway, the source of his intuition became clear.
‘... Been a while, big guy.’
A day or so, in any case. Nothing since that one, two-letter text response that Ferno had spent a frankly stupid amount of time staring at, once Lola had dozed off on his chest somewhere between that golden retriever learning to play baseball and learning to surf.
He made his way back behind the bar. There was nothing to serve him--everything drinkable had long been packed up, painstakingly boxed up and hauled topside for a customer base that had no idea they wouldn’t be living long enough to enjoy much of it. That misery, loss, despair, and death still chased them all, hot on the heels of fragile hope. For all their celebrating, they weren’t free of anything.
Ferno couldn’t offer Sans anything to drink. But he could offer him a different bartender’s comfort.
Someone to listen, when you needed a kind ear.
‘... How you holdin’ up?’ There were other things to talk about as well. The cloud of melancholy that hovered over Lola’s heart. The sense of doubt and uncertainty tempering his own flames. But he’d come all the way down here, just to talk to Sans. So they could start with Sans.
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🐤
Tweet Tweet!!!!!!!! || Accepting
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[PAINTED SKIES] for ferno <3
Beach starters || Accepting!
[PAINTED SKIES] - our muses relax in/by the water and watch the sun set
‘Here ya go, babe,’ he said, as he offered her the cone. ‘Quick now, yeah? ‘Fore it melts.’
Ferno hadn’t been fully successful in preventing that, admittedly. The flames that made up his left hand burned a low, dark purple, in contrast to the bright lilac of the rest of his body--a conscious shift in temperature intended to preserve the integrity of the soft serve. Even so, the summer heat and his natural temperature had resulted in a few drips down the side, albeit ones that could be easily licked up. He passed the treat over with a kiss to her cheek, as his arm slipped around her shoulders.
‘Hell of a view, ain’t it?’ he asked, free arm resting on the boardwalk fence as he drew her in against his side. Finally free to turn his attention to the setting sun, he looked out onto the horizon, the skies and the sea painted a mix of vibrant golds, pinks, oranges, and blues. ‘Been on the surface for... what, 25 years now? An’ I don’t think I’ve ever gotten used to it. One’a those things you learn not to take for granted, I guess.’
He rubbed at her shoulder affectionately, favoring her with a crooked grin.
‘S’always prettiest in pretty company though. Guess it’s good we’re the prettiest two folks on this beach, eh?’
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