Chapter 1: cant a guy catch a break around here?
Chapter Text
He can't help it. The smiles, the bubbling laughter, the overly confident way that he always spoke. He couldn't help it.
He wasn't meant to fall in love with him. It wasn't exactly part of the plan , anyway. He couldn't pinpoint when exactly it happened, either. When he realized it was a separate matter, but the forces of his affections were slow and deadly like tendrils wrapping around his soul, thorns ready to strike at any moment.
Either way, he wasn't an idiot. Error was in love with Ink. plain and simple.
(Well, maybe not simple , per se)
It was practically second nature when he began to trail after him, idly searching for his presence among hastily crumbling AU’s and empty white spaces. He found it difficult to not focus his attention on the other when he was around. And he supposed that it wasn't exactly difficult to focus on him, considering the ridiculous get-up of too many layers and oversized pants he always insisted on wearing. But aside from his questionable fashion sense, Error often found that his thoughts were clouded less with a lust for destruction, and more with a sappy sort of longing for the creator.
Ink was the sort of sickeningly kindhearted person that Error wholeheartedly despised. He was sweet, and dedicated to his many crafts to the point of a destructive stubbornness, and he always saw the good in the darkest of situations, something that Error wasn't quite sure if he envied or hated. Who is naturally that positive? It just wasn't normal. And yet still, he could recognize the flutter of his soul when Ink gave one of his stupidly wide grins that just screamed ‘I'm going to cause a problem’.
But nothing this hopeful ever lasts.
Well, not for Error, anyway. He knew as soon as the realization had hit him in outertale one night, every star reminding him of inks forever morphing eyelights, he knew that it wasn't going to last. He knew that, eventually, every small high would collapse under an unstable foundation of sharp words or cold encounters.
And of course ink had noticed, too. Because of course he had. There wasn't a monster dense enough not to recognize the destroyers progressively more affectionate behavior.
Part of him had hoped for Ink to notice, actually. To reciprocate, to experience things with him . There were so many things he could only dream of behind a carefully crocheted curtain that hid all of his delicate fantasies. But of course, when Ink noticed, he acted with efficient scarcity in the way that he barely reacted at all right up until the end.
A casual greeting turned to an easy-win staring contest, an inkling of conversation turned into a half melody of uninterested hums, and god forbid he attempted to be anything other than apathetic in return.
The final straw took place in outertale.
Error had been wandering around AU’s as he usually did when he was bored, absentmindedly searching for the smaller monster amongst too white snow and too green leaves. Eventually, he located the other, sitting in his (Errors, not Inks, Ink never comes to outertale. What is he doing here?) favorite star gazing spot atop a cliff. When his portal had closed, glitching rewound to him alone, Ink turned to him with a sour expression on his face. “You really don't know how to give a monster their privacy, do you?” he accused coldly.
The urge to bristle and bark back a snarky reply was not as prominent as Error would have liked, but still he pushed out his chest and glared down at the other. “I always come to outertale.” Ink knew this, Error knew this, fuck, more people knew this than they actually knew Error. Ink rolled his eyelights anyway.
“You need to move on, Error. I’m not interested. Surely you know this by now, even if I wanted to, I'm not capable of reciprocating your... feelings . Get over it already, it's a better look on you than stalking.”
The creator's flat tone was almost unnerving, and his usually bright eyelights displayed a monochrome hue that Error just hated. He couldn't be blamed if his words didn't seem to work at that moment, or for several moments afterwards. How could he be blamed? With the way ink kept barking insults at him buzzing at the back of his mind as he started to dissociate, he felt his silence as justified. He knew ink would never reciprocate, but damn, did he really need to be this much of an asshole?
“Are you even listening to me, Error? Of course you're not, why am I even asking? You've always been a delusional bastard. Jeez.” Ink huffed quietly before turning his attention back to the destroyer, clicking his fingers in front of his face loudly. “Listen to me now, because I'm only going to say this once. Leave me alone, do not talk to me, I do not like you. Cool? Cool.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose bone in exasperation. “I’ll see you- no, well, I wont see you around, hopefully. Goodbye, Error.”
With that, he was gone, his form disfiguring into an inconceivable puddle of goo before paint and painter disappeared completely.
The atmosphere was heavy, thick enough to cut with a knife, and all he could manage was slumping himself against a nearby tree. He knew this would happen, knew that every blissful moment would be undermined with the end of the line for him and his stupid feelings.
He doesn't feel much like stargazing, anymore.
The white of the antivoid is a real palate cleanser for his mind, eyes still distant as he stares up into the knotted strings that corded the ceiling. Every white space that spread for miles felt like a blanket of calm as his soul thrummed harshly in his chest, a painful reminder of the emotions he was not willing to process just yet.
And then, color- just in the corner of his eye, color .
It all reminded him of ink,
Sitting up hastily, he aimed a glare at the color invading his space, armed with a snarky remark about how he couldn't be blamed for their meetings if ink was the one to initiate them, until he saw just who had entered his sacred space. “Woah, you look glummer dan usual, bro” Fresh grinned in a curious manner, head tilted to the side as his glasses flashed a similar display of four brightly colored question marks. “Everythin’ chill over here?”
Error turned away with a soft ‘tsk’, clenching his teeth painfully. “None of your business,” he growled, eyelights fixated on the pile of dolls that he hadn't been bothered to string back up with the rest. Inks felted face stared back at him, and he avoided its buttoned gaze with shocking ire.
Fresh studied his brother's movements, ‘uh oh’ popping up belatedly on his shades as the reality that Error was genuinely upset about…whatever it was, hit him. He hadn't seen Error look this dejected in a very long time. Taking a step forward, hands behind his back and grin plastered lazily onto his face, fresh racked his brain for a way to make him feel better.
He could tell a joke?
“Guess he's just not inta ya?” he shrugged, an awkward grin on his face. Surely that would be fine, he knew that Error had no plans to confess so this should be a safe topic. And besides, whatever had got him upset couldn't have been worse than that, so…it might just make him feel better about whatever situation he'd found himself in this time. Pausing at the lack of response from the other, he opened his mouth to speak up again to ask what had happened, only to catch sight of the error bars multiplying around the dark skeletons form. To make it worse, the glitches’ eyes were now a consistent red, fat tears spilling down his cheeks and staining the fabric of his jacket.
He had crashed .
“damnit.” Fresh mumbled, stalking closer to get a better look at the anomaly sat on the floor of the antivoid. At the very least, he knew he had hit the nail on the head?
Oh, who was he kidding? This situation was awful , not to mention he had absolutely taken a shot in the dark and struck the bullseye without meaning to. The very least he could do now was make Error feel a little better about it. He had nowhere else to be anyway.
-=-
When Error's vision cleared out an hour or so later, his eyes immediately landed on the pile of treats that sat directly in front of him.
Chocolates from underfell, some colored yarn, and a bright yellow sticky note with Fresh’s recognizable scrawl across the front reading ‘feel better bro’ in black sharpie. A resigned sigh left his nasal cavity, stretching his aching limbs and looking back around at the antivoid. His eyes trailed to the pile of dolls that had caught his eyes earlier. Ink was missing from the pile, another incriminating sticky note in its place. He crept forward to read it, vision deterring him from his slouched position from before.
‘Strung him up with the rest, take your mind off him. You got better dolls anyway’ it read, a skateboard sticker pressed into the corner.
Error lowered his arm, looking back down at the remaining pile that he had yet to string up.
Locking eyes with the smiling Swap sans and his blue button eyes, he allowed himself another sigh. “The fuck am I supposed to do now, huh?”
Chapter 2: sweet surprise
Summary:
Error is called back into battle after a depression induced hiatus, what awaits?
Notes:
sorry this ones pretty short, im fumbling abt chapter lengths cause my chapter by chapter plan is like, really fucking odd
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nightmare was surprisingly charitable when Error stumbled into his castle that night, fresh tear tracks still staining his cheeks and eyebags so deep they could carry the entire mansion’s shopping for a month. He allows him to use the room that was leant to him after the first time he teamed up with them to face off against the ‘star Sans’’, and teaches him the basics of magic suppression (per his request). The technique was highly used within their team, mostly to stop Dream from taking advantage of their emotions within a battle, but also to repress hurt against Nightmare himself if one were to touch him while particularly overjoyed.
It canceled all magic wavelengths that broadcasted emotions.
Error had been reluctant to learn it during their previous time working together, having nothing to hide from their opposition, and everything to give to Nightmare, who fed off of his pessimism with little complaint. But now, with such bitter emotions towards the enemy's leader, he couldn't help but feel the need for such a skill.
Still, he kept far away from the battle for the better part of a month, most of his days consisting of beating the gangs’ asses at Mario kart, and hanging menacingly from their high ceilings. He knew that, despite Ink claiming avoidance, he was too attention seeking for that. His passion was bothering Error in the antivoid, and even that would not stop to give him peace, so he had opted to simply, move out for a while.
Until the battle came to him.
-=-
Well, to say the battle came to him was a bit of a dramatization, to be completely honest. Also, the legitimacy of the claim was just untrue .
More realistically, the battle called to him.
Or, well, Nightmare did.
See, the offer had been open since he had confided in the leader of his woes, ‘ the battlefield is open for your expertise if you wish to lend us a hand ’. A simple, treasured welcoming. Still, Error was wary of his space, unsure and prone to overthinking as he was. But, he knew that Nightmare’s team was capable, he wouldn't have been sending them out if they weren't, and they definitely couldn't be coming back alive if such a statement was untrue.
Still, even the best warriors meet their match one way or another.
According to Nightmare, it was a ‘ jumbled mess of coincidence and pure luck’, Killer and Dust being swiftly taken down and incapacitated and bumping their numbers down to two in the process. Realistically, Error knew that it was at least partially his fault, having agreed to play video games with the two of them late into the night, indirectly causing their weekend, tired states.
This is probably how he came to accept the offer of backup Nightmare had requested of him.
It did not make standing on that battlefield easier.
-=-
Ink swung his thick brush in his direction, a splattering of paint marring his jacket with a bright pink that fizzled with boiling heat. He twisted his wrist to pull taught a few strings, slicing a bone attack that Dream had fired just as it left his vicinity. He heard a muffled curse from the bubbly opponent, browbones furrowed in frustration as he attempted to shoot through the blue barricade that Error had woven. He did not suppress the smug smirk that made its way onto his face.
Ink let out a huff as he pointed the brush up at the glitch, of whom was hanging leisurely on a makeshift swing that extended into the chosen AUs cavernous ceiling. “This is totally cheating, come down here and fight me like a man!” he jeered, a frustrated smile twisting his own expression bitterly.
It irked him instantly.
How dare he use their usual playful banter like that? After so violently letting him down no less than a few weeks ago? Stars, it made anger fizzle through his marrow, blunted by the viscous sadness that flooded his ribcage, but -
A sharp bone attack erupted from the snow, two gloved hands grabbing it just as it reached their vicinity, allowing the culprit to all but vault themselves over and through a weakened part of Errors defenses. It was so sudden that it snapped him out of his brooding, eyelights snapping to the small skeleton who had kicked up a cloud of snow as he had landed, a new bone attack already summoned in his right hand.
Unlike his two teammates, he greeted Nightmare with a smile that read genuine, spinning the bone between experienced fingers as he stood straight, one hand on his hip as he gave a light chuckle. “Funny seeing you here, I wasn't expecting to see you until next Tuesday ,” he bantered smoothly, expelling an attack at the last word that Horror easily stopped with a flourish of his own.
Blue was always quite the anomaly in battle, Error could never quite gather if he was really fighting them. He gave joyful quips, and openly expressed his friendship with Horror despite them facing off on opposite teams. Whether Horror was being used and this was some sort of strategy to win, Error never could gather. And if that wasn't strange enough, he had heard from Nightmare that whatever positive emotions he may be harboring were blocked under the same technique he had recently employed upon himself; which was odd considering his positivity could be an asset to their team, but he supposed every monster had their secrets and left it curiously enough alone. Still, he was a ruthless opponent, even with the way he never seemed to be trying to harm his ‘enemies’ in any way.
Usually, Error was too focused on Ink to give the skeleton a proper look .
Usually , he wasn't one to care for the ‘star sans’’ other team members at all , but seeing Horror and Blue dance on the battlefield, exchanging jokes and smiles that were rare to Horrors face, it made him really…think, about Blue's behavior.
The two sparred wordlessly for a moment, hills of snow stained with tracks that drove deep and left wounds in the ground, yet drew no comparison to either opponent. A thin ‘shhfthh!’ cut through the air, a toxic green paint aimed directly at the ground that Horror stood, stance drawn and attention locked onto Blue.
Error almost called out.
The paint hit bone and screeched as it bubbled into an almost stringy substance, all but sliding its way off of the handheld obstacle that Blue had used to bat away the attack, his body low and open to an attack from Horror as he did so. Neither took the opportunity, regaining their momentum smoothly, no acknowledgement to the hiccup within their demeanors. Error's jaw was loose as it hung open at the display, a clear show of friendship, mutual respect for the others safety, worry , even.
Inks whining curses from across the battlefield sounded like they were underwater.
-=-
The battlefield was powdered snow, littered with marks and stray attacks from the raging forces that opposed one another. It was about as chaotic as Blue had expected it to be, in all honesty. Killer and Dust were downed within the first five minutes, which left a frustrated Nightmare lingering behind Horrors' reinforced wrath to call for ‘backup’, who he assumed would be Error if their current lineup was anything to go by.
Then blue strings shot into the snow, right at home against the empty shade.
It was nice to see Error back on the field after his impromptu hiatus, still as fiery as ever, strings laced with malice and attacks readied before one could blink. Except…he wasn't quite the same at all, actually, now that he was looking.
Oh, and he did look; Blue observed from a distance as Error shot stiff strings into the air, a masterful blockade that would have spurred pleasant determination in him on any other day. But now, the composition of the attack felt overanalyzed in his skull. The strings looked almost, brittle , in nature, and if he really looked, he could see the downturned crease of Errors brow bone as his tired eyelights glared down at his surroundings dazedly.
Bone attacks came slower, gasters pushing through faux exhaustion, and Error, sat above it all, not a quip behind his teeth.
No, this would not do at all.
-=-
Error sat in the mansion for a few hours after the battle, allowing himself to be fed by the companion who had temporarily housed him. The food was good, and what little hp that had been scraped off of his bones was already beginning to replenish itself, but there was still a tense atmosphere that he couldn't shake.
He tried playing video games with Killer, at first. Humbling him at his preferred hobby always cheered him up. And then it just, didn't . He tried watching him play with others, and then attempted to crochet something just to keep his hands busy. He tried taking a nap, walking around the gardens, and then finally gave in and opened a reluctant portal to the antivoid.
Overwhelmed .
He let out a sigh, shoulders slouching as he entered the familiar voided space.
Just a night, that's all it'd be. Ink wouldn't interrupt him today, not after a battle.
Just as he imagined, the stark white put his buzzing skull at ease, the headache that he hadn't even recognized building behind his sockets now a dull throb instead of a brutal jackhammer. The absolute void of his space was very much welcome, and he turned just to take it all in in its eternal emptiness. It was void to his left, void to his right, and void to his…
A bright blue plate sat innocently on the floor of the antivoid, a small pile of chocolate chip cookies housed within its cheery patterns that graced the edges with fluffy hand painted clouds and birds.
Error is hesitant when he takes a step forward, eye sockets narrowed suspiciously at the ‘gift’. When nothing pops into existence at his advances, he braves another step, and then another, until he can just make out the neon pink sticky note that had been stuck to one side of the plate. The text is unreadable from such a distance, which forces his hand in picking up the plate and bringing the note closer to his face in an attempt to read the messy scrawl.
‘ Cookies make bad days slightly less bad! I heard you like chocolate? ’
Error huffs an affronted, startled half-chuckle, turning the post-it over to check for any other hidden notes, maybe a name to put to the frankly ridiculous attempt at cheering him up.
And sure enough, there's a scribbled small print on the back, a tiny ‘ from, Blue. food doesn't go bad in the antivoid, right? I know time works differently there ’ which actually does make Error laugh, then, because it's such a random , absolutely useless thought to have, that it practically startles the past few days of moping out of him. Of course, cookies could never mend his aching soul, but…they might help. And well, he does love Chocolate. Who was he to say no?
(He really should probably thank Blue for all this.)
-=-
There's soft humming under the dim fairy lights that are strung up around the room, each twinkling light feeding the cheep glow in the dark stars that are stuck to the ceiling undetected. A bandanna is swiftly untied and folded neatly against the back of a desk chair, where the humming falls short.
A yellow post-it note sits unassumingly on his desk.
‘ Thank you ’
Notes:
so the way im writing this is like, finish one chapter, then finish another, then START the next...THEN you can post the first one. and its been working to keep my motivation so far so, like, just know that this isnt being abandoned im just slow af. and if it DOES get abandoned theres a backlog for you to feed off of
Chapter 3: Gifting notes and things on the side
Summary:
The exchange begins
Notes:
dont expect this level of frequency from me ever again
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Things are turning up in the antivoid.
That in and of itself isn't too big an issue, the antivoid is an anomalous space and Error is well aware of that. It can do whatever it pleases, and if that happens to be summoning random objects then that's just what it does. Except, it isn't the antivoid leaving the plates of assorted sweet treats after every battle.
And, even as anomalous of a space as it is, he's sure that his growing curiosity in checking the antivoid for said aforementioned sweets was not the work of the voidless space itself.
No. Blue has been leaving Error gifts.
Him.
Gifts .
Part of him wishes to be blissfully ignorant, but he’s more than aware that avoidance is not an option this time. Every time his mask slips in the heat of battle, eyelights lingering longingly or attacks stiff and depressive, there is a pile of baked goods waiting for him in the only place Blue would know to look.
He leaves a note with every plate.
Sometimes he writes affirmations, some sort of quip or pun in an attempt to brighten his mood. Often, the puns are themed to the pastry that graces the plate. And rarely, but not to be disregarded, he tells stories.
Remarkably, they're all decently interesting for an anomalous entity that is nothing but a cheapshot copy of the original. Maybe it's his undeniable relevance in the vaster multiverse, but the shortened down stories all squished down into a singular post-it note do their damn jobs, that's for sure. Error is ashamed to say that, despite everything, he seems to be learning about Blue.
He knows that he dressed up as a bat on his first Halloween, and that he and Dream often compete to see who can eat the spiciest food, all utterly useless facts but facts he knows nonetheless. And worse, he finds these stupid little facts interesting .
Anyway, Blue seems to have gained some sort of freakish sixth sense, because as Error gets better at hiding his turmoil, Blue seems to get better at picking his façade apart. It was a cycle, he knew, and at the beginning it had unnerved him slightly. The very thought that someone could read him so well was upsetting, sure, but the sweets were almost worth it regardless. Besides, he realized belatedly, Nightmare had been able to feel it all the time before he learnt his new little trick . Really, the only remarkable thing about this situation was how Blue managed to outdo his own baking each and every time he dropped by.
-=-
Sometimes Error would reply.
In fact, he'd even go as far as to say that he found joy in it. It took him a good few weeks to work up the courage to reply with more than two words of gratitude, but once he had, leaving notes became a common form of conversation for the two of them.
The first note displayed was a comment on Blue’s baking.
Stuck over a book about the stars, a neon green post-it read disbelief at the anomalies baking. Gratitude was tricky, but Error's words of almost-praise spoke enough on their own.
Blue hadn't expected to be written back to, but the notes had been received with excitement and gratitude anyway. It had taken a while for them to fall into a consistent and fluid conversation, but it was still something so extremely fond that Blue struggled to care. Today was the day after a battle, so Blue knew that by the time he got home, he was most likely going to be graced by the presence of another sticky note from his new friend.
Friend?
The Sans huffed as he swiftly dodged an attack to his left, using the momentum to spin himself and a newly summoned bone attack into his sparring partner's side. Alphys grunted at the hit but recovered quickly, spears quick to erupt beneath his feet. Blue dodged expertly regardless, using the opportunity of focus within his teacher to build his magic into summoning his trusty hammer. The feeling of bone between his clothed fingers brought him confidence, the barely weight of the Gaster-headed weapon settling in his hands with practiced ease.
There were heavy, fast exchanging blows between the two of them as the monsters threw all they had into the battle. A screech of a smaller Gaster blaster erupted through the clearing as Blue’s new hidden trick turned the tables in his favor, bright blue magic cutting through soft stone and glowing algae that illuminated their back and forth movements. Alphys let out a startled, excited cry as the beam disrupted her momentum and caused her to fumble backwards into the swing of Blue’s hammer.
She hit the floor with a groan.
“Oh- stars, sorry Alphys! I didn't mean to hit you that hard,” Blue apologized quickly as he rushed to his friend's side with an outstretched hand. The reptile huffed, but the grin on her face disputed any negative emotions he may have assumed that she harbored. “You’re all good pipsqueak, no worries.” She smirked as she took the skeleton's offer and hauled herself up.
Blue rolled his eyelights as she brushed off her slightly burned training slacks.
Spinning around with arms wide, Alphys’ toothy grin spread across her face with vigor. “Where the hell have you been hiding that one, huh?” she pried enthusiastically, poking the side of Blue’s ribs with a sharp finger. He snorted.
“I’ve been doing some DIY training, and I've been working on that one for a while .” he admitted, hands on hips as he bathed in the growing excitement of his mentor. She barked a laugh in response, patting Blue on the back with a heavy handed paw as she led them both into her house for some celebration tea.
-=-
When Blue dragged himself into his bedroom later that evening, he leveled a smitten grin at the bright pink slip of paper that was resting on the empty plate on his bedside table.
-=-
‘The only constant in any AU is that Asgore forsaken mutt. It isn't even worth my strings, one day I'm just gonna spear it’
‘LOL ikr, I swear he lives only to pester skeletons. In my au he lives in a shrine my brother made, we just keep giving him offerings every so often and he stays mostly out of the way’
‘Well god spelled backwards ig. Is it a creepy shrine with candles and shit?’
‘We even had ink make him a custom tapestry.’
‘Holy shit’
-=-
‘Honey. It's too sweet for me, but the bear bottle he uses is cute. Id choose smth like fire sauce personally’
‘Spicy, I can respect that. Fresh makes a good chillidog. He perfected it after he found out abt sonic and was obsessed for a bit’
‘That's so valid of him, I want a sonic style chillidog. They draw it so yummy looking’
‘Just make one. I'm entitled to some bc I gave you the idea btw’
‘Wait that's so true. Me vs fresh chillidog cook off’
‘You and fresh interacting is a terrifying thought’
‘LOL chillidog distraction, rate mine vs fresh and be honest. I personally think I KILLED it’
‘9/10, could have used better bread. Try dancetale’
-=-
‘I see you in outertale sometimes yh, me and dream go there for ice cream a lot. Mint choc chip>>>’
‘If it doesn't make me bleed chocolate there's not enough of it in there’
‘I've made chocolate from scratch before but it took forever and I had to go to SO many different aus it was actually insane’
‘Was it better than underfell?’
‘SO MUCH BETTER, that's why I had to go to so many aus. The quest for the best chocolate bar ever, trademark pending’
‘I don't believe you, underfell chocolate slaps’
‘Just ask XD’
Error took a second to just, look , at the plate of chocolate sitting before him. Initially, he had been (oh Asgore save him) worried at Blue’s unusually late response, but after the appearance of the plate he let all of the pieces click together with a fond scoff.
He cracked the perfectly molded chocolate in half and popped a piece into his mouth, only to pause as the flavor hit his tongues.
Oh, this was so much better than underfell.
-=-
‘Blue, but pink is ok too’
‘Blue and yellow for me. Like the stars’
‘Nerd’
‘You literally stargaze??’
‘You have glow in the dark stars’
‘I KNOW you're not dissing the glow in the dark stars, you and I both know that they make my room look 100000% better’
‘I prefer the fairy lights, makes it cozy’
‘You should get some for the antivoid. Your strings can probably hold some decorations right?’
‘Yh but it doesn't get dark here, light doesn't travel. I can get some baubles tho’
‘OMS that would look so cool, I think we have some star baubles in the attic you can have, Stretch doesn't like them because they're too bulky but they'd do better in the antivoid cause you'd be able to see them properly’
‘I wont say no’
‘HA incoming delivery!’
-=-
‘Seriously? EVERY au? How do you even find time to do that??’
‘Idk, time travels differently in the antivoid. I just do’
‘Ykw that makes sense. Crocheting goes right over my head tho. I'm impressed’
‘Crocheting is easy, it just takes forever. Now knitting, that's hard’
‘Idk my Christmas jumper would beg to differ...’
‘Showoff’
‘You literally made every sans into a crochet doll don't even talk’
‘Get good’
-=-
‘Do you have a doll of yourself?’
‘No’
‘I'm gonna knit one do you want it’
‘Ok if I can give you yours’
‘This is a rlly odd exchange but absolutely’
-=-
‘Thoughts on tacos?’
‘Too messy’
‘WHAT that's the entire FUN of them tho :( #feelingbetrayed’
‘Ur so dramatic. I like wraps better’
‘What if I made a softer taco would u eat it’
‘How would you even do that’
‘Chalupa’
‘What is that’
‘Its sorta like thin pita? It's made out of corn dough and it can hold the specialty taco shape if heated properly’
‘Yh ok id try that’
‘HURRAH expect it within 5-10 business days’
-=-
‘I've never seen you without your scarf do you even wash that thing’
‘I thought it was more like a bandana? And I DO wash it, I just do it separately so its done quicker than the rest’
‘Oh yeah, idk what the difference is tho. If I tied my scarf like a bandana would it still be a scarf?’
‘Dictionary says a bandana is “a large often colorfully patterned handkerchief worn tied around the head or neck”, and a scarf is “a length or square of fabric worn around the neck or head”’
‘Your scarf/bandana thing doesn't have patterns, so is it more like a scarf?’
‘Idk, it said OFTEN which implies they don't always. But its not thin like a cloth either, id say its too small to be a scarf too tho’
‘What is this identity crisis’
‘I'm actually so confused I don't want to think anymore’
-=-
Error snorted softly as he read the newest response from Blue, ‘I only dance to danceable beats, beats that dance with their sound yk?’, rolling his eyelights at the frankly bizarre response to his original question. Still, that was something normal for Blue, a fact that he had come to discover after they began exchanging notes outside of plates and gratitude's.
Truly, the Sans that had made such a strange and sudden appearance within his life was an oddity.
‘That barely makes sense, do you mean ‘upbeat’?’ he scribbled messily onto a green post-it note, a small serine smile resting against his face.
An oddity, but a pleasant one all the same.
Notes:
Dude this is my second post of today, its like 4 in the fucking morning pls help me i have a problem. sorry if these seem short btw like i said before my chapter-chapter schedule is like a massive block of writing and its sort of vague?? this chapters prompt was literally 'This becomes a sort of pattern, blue will leave gifts when he spots error’s movements becoming sluggish, and the more he watches the more he catches on. Because of the first note error left they've been speaking briefly through that sort of thing'. how does one make that into an entire chapter?