would you smooch a ghost { marys blitz

Papyrus did not feel heat.

At least, that was what she wanted to believe. Desire easily manifested to delusion if she concentrated hard enough. She knew there was that white, blinding sunlight pouring against their house because when she pressed her bony fingers against the wooden boards in her bedroom, she could feel its warmth like the stove when she tried to boil water. It radiated and spread like tendrils around her phalanges. Everyone else complained of how sweaty and hot they were, but Papyrus knew she would not sweat.

However, for extra measure she decided to wear as little as possible. A creamy tank top nearly matched the color of her deathly pale skin, clashing with her favorite pair of striped shorts. It was not her Sunday best, but it was her Tuesday “pretty good” so it would suffice for the time being.

Her puzzles were tucked away out of her fear of burning them. Sunlight felt like fire, and she was pretty sure a ball of light that painful to her eye sockets would be made out of fire. Like, completely engulfed in flames. It was not the type of flame one could see in the kitchen or on a candle or in the fireplace; white was probably a special type of hot. Hot enough to seep through the walls like mold and burn her crosswords out of thin air. She had worked too hard on those!

She lingered near the kitchen instead, barefoot and bored out of her mind. She could burn up the kitchen if she tried to cook spaghetti for lunch, so she was reduced to a pouting statue in the corner. Then she heard Marilyn – the best entertainer in the house – pipe up from the other room. ”I have just the thing!” she called out. Grinning, Papyrus snatched a cup and filled it with ice, rushing into the room to deliver her offering.

”If you chew these, you’ll feel cooler. Trust me.”

[ ugky ]

Babe. What an adorable nickname. Usually her best nicknames were saved for Naps, who was the living embodiment of his own name. Papyrus didn’t even notice him half of the time, probably because he was always in Marilyn’s shadow, and she was as bright as the fake stars painted on her window boards. It was an honor to present her with a gift. It wasn’t as impressive as a spaghetti dinner or the tea parties Myra always held in her spider room, but she was crushing the ice between her teeth as advised. She trusted Papyrus.

It was a delightful moment.

She glanced down at her own lanky form. Despite being the younger sibling, she was taller than her brother Sans. She could thank her long legs for that difference. It didn’t bother her. Size wasn’t everything unless there was a contest involving reaching the top shelves in the kitchen, so she didn’t pay much attention to the wide stride of her walk. But a compliment was a compliment, and this was from the shining star herself. There was no other option; she had to cherish it.

”Thanks! I thought so too,” she lied, because she had to be oh so impressive and sure of herself. That was the way to live.

She was very much content with her pale, silvery hair and willowy limbs. The concept of a makeover was weird - what was there to change? Yet Marilyn was the expert, of course she would find a way to improve her. It would be such an honor, too. ”Sounds fun!” she exclaimed, smiling that Papyrus smile. ”I didn’t think I needed one, but if I could look half as good as you..”

Then she could brag about it for hours.

[ ugky ]

She was beauty, she was grace, and her hands were colder than ice. Papyrus didn’t mind – her own skin was pale, clammy, and far from lukewarm, like cold spaghetti on a winter’s night. What a horrible thought. She withdrew her hands and stared, surprised not to find glitter sticking to her palms. Marilyn had always struck her as pure fame, pure glamour. Well yeah, that was still true. But where did she get that shine?

The makeover. Papyrus trusted her to glamourize her own pale, boring skin. Perhaps she would start to glow.

”I’ll do it!” She exclaimed, but the superstar was already dashing up the stairs. She found herself with a sweaty cup in her hands, burning frostbite into her bony fingers. She smiled and took a sip. Presents tasted like winter. She crushed the ice between her teeth, numbing the back of her jaw, and shrugged. She didn’t want to indulge too much in Marilyn’s gift, but maybe ice could be the secret to clear, perfect skin. She could chug the entire cup, in that case. She tilted her head back until Marilyn reappeared.

Coughing, she sat back on the couch and crossed her legs. Marilyn had some kind of package in her arms. The secret to her beauty and grace? It could fit in a bag? And it would all be used to improve Papyrus?

Her eyes widened.

”I have to be sick?”

[ ugky ]