bury me in garbage

Grillby x Reader Headcanons

So I see a… fairly large amount of nsfw involving Grillby. He’s one of my faves [hell I even have a tag for him that’s “campfire husband”], but being ace as hell means I get extremely uncomfortable being reminded that it’s out there. Other people can like it, I’m just… yeah. Ace and sex-repulsed and character possessive. Horrible combo, let me tell ya, for when things decide to slip through my blacklisted tags or my blacklist decides to lag with blocking those posts.

So to try and combat this, I’ve typed up a bunch of extremely self-indulgent self-insert-esque headcanon things that are pure fluff. I had a few that were extremely specific to my own insecurities, but I’m not gonna bother anyone with those.


- Headcanon that Grillby doesn’t actually ignite things or burn things with his touch; he feels like a freshly-warmed heat pack. He can set fire to things if he so chooses, but generally he won’t. He can also adjust his own temperature, but only so much.

- You spend a lot of time in the kitchen together. Preparing meals, checking out websites and shows and books for ideas, filing things away for later use. Grillby sometimes works things into his bar as limited-time offers, sometimes bringing them back every so often or making them permanent when there’s enough demand.

- Sometimes your food or hot drinks get cold. Grillby is perfectly okay with holding the plate or mug in his hands to warm them up. Boiling water is also much quicker when he’s around.

- Instant toasted marshmallows and melted chocolate and other things just by having Grillby hold things.

- You’ve mentioned how cold you get at night in the winter, even with multiple layers of bedding. You begin to experience a certain fiery being slipping into your room on particularly cold nights.  The temperature difference is one thing, but it’s kind of hard not to notice the firelight once it’s suddenly there.

- You have to invest in a sleeping mask for when you snuggle up to Grillby at night, because of that same illumination he gives off. At that close of a proximity it can be a little difficult to try and sleep with the light burning through your eyelids. He tries to dim himself but it doesn’t quite work well enough.

- Cold weather = warm cuddles. No more having to wrap up in countless layers just to stay warm in your own home. You’re kind of a barnacle about it though. Not that Grillby minds too much.

- Unfortunately, hot weather is a nightmare. So having the AC cranked up to ridiculous settings happens a lot when Grillby’s around in the summer. 

- You have a section of your pantry that, to outsiders, looks to be just fireplace materials. Coal, firewood, matches, various kindling material. They’re actually for the fire man. He has a soft spot for pinecones, especially the special ones around the holidays that are cinnamon or change the color of the fire once they’re ignited. Not quite the same as Snowdin pinecones, but still good in their own way.

- You get asked a lot where you’ve been that you smell like a campfire.

- Grillby tries not to go out after dark, because he literally becomes a beacon and actually doesn’t like being stared at by huge amounts of people. In the Underground there were other fire people, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but above ground there are way more people and none of them seem to be aware that there are beings out there that emit light like he does. You have to drag that out of him though, since the most he does is act really uncomfortable and just sit and not move when it’s suggested that you go out and do something when it happens to be dark out.

- You have a very small amount of glass figures and other things on a shelf. Grillby will rarely miscalculate just how hot his hands are when he’s holding glass cups, and melted them partly. So he’s reshaped them into little things. And after you made a comment that you liked the way they looked, he’s started leaving them around for you to find. He won’t purposefully melt things, so there aren’t too many.

6

I went exploring today, heading for a green patch on Google maps called “Waldfriedhof”, having identified “Wald” = “woods”, expecting some kind of forest and/or park.

It wasn’t until I came across the gravestones that I recalled that “Friedhof” means “cemetery”: what I’d found was a forest cemetery (and a fairly enormous one, at that)!

Felt a little weird to roam a cemetery, in light of not knowing(ly knowing) anybody within it, but it was a beautiful space, and I do think it’s far more beautiful a concept (in idea and practice) than those cemeteries I am accustomed to seeing - not only were the graves often family plots rather than just individual, but the majority of them were also freshly gardened, and I passed numerous people replanting/weeding etc spaces as I wandered, including young children (and the quite elderly). In addition, the way that the graves often seemed to merge with nature - such as the one above - does do beautiful things for concepts about circles of life, and living on as part of nature once returned to dust.

i have a huge crush on a dumpster


There’s this dumpster
behind this ice cream parlor
not too far from
my house
that I have a crush on.

Remember
when you were a little kid
and you’d see
a teacher
or doctor
or just some regular adult
and when you looked at them
you’d hide behind
your mom’s or dad’s legs
because looking at the adult
made you feel queasy
and nervous
in this tingly yet unidentifiable feeling
you couldn’t yet
comprehend?

That’s how I feel
when I look at
this dumpster.

The dumpster
makes me feel like
a giddy school boy

and if the dumpster and I
were in middle school
together
I’d be a pussy
and slide an anonymous note
into its locker
and it would say
something like,
    “I like you like you,
        xoxoxoxoxo”

It’s beautiful,
    the dumpster,
because it’s not
me,

because it is unlike
everyone else,

because it has
the courage to be

exactly

what it is;

    a big,
    stained,
    reeking
    retirement home
    for garbage.

And it never tries
to be
anything
other than that
either.

It never sways,
strays
or bends
to the fads
and fake tits of society
that we are told
are real
and good
but,
    deep down,
know they’re not.

It stays
what it is,
    the dumpster,

what it is supposed to,
    and meant to,
be,

even though
it’s something “gross”
and “dirty”
and looked down upon
by everyone.

But they
don’t get it.

They don’t see
it’s strength,

it’s courage to stay
what it is
when living in a world
that thinks so lowly
of what it is,

in a world
where everyone is striving
to become the exact same
false idol,
    and where everyone
    gladly/thoughtlessly modifies
    what they are
    in order to be looked
    up to.

It’s refreshing
to see something
stand its dirty
ground,

to remain ugly
in a world that is only
concerned with beauty

and,
    therefore,
making the dumpster itself
more beautiful than the mental image
of a dozen kittens
crawling all over a naked Katy Perry
sprawled out on a velvet couch
Kate Winslet-style
a la “Titanic.”

I have a huge crush
on a dumpster.

I wanna settle down
with it
by living inside it
and having people
throw their garbage in
on top of me,

    burying me in it,

    a constant reminder
    to stay the dirty, low down,
    low class,
    beautiful piece of shit
    I am

and not the superficial,
damp turd
everyone allows themselves
to be
groomed into.

We would have
a wonderful life
together,
    myself and my dumpster.

At first
I was thinking about
taking the dumpster
someplace scenic
and beautiful
on our inevitable
honeymoon,

    like Bermuda

but then I came
to my senses
and I was all like,
    “Nahhhhhhhhh…

Mozambique
it is.”


© Calvero 2014