#She's getting a bit cleaned up atm

[tsgurp]

"Welcome Voyager, to your peril. Or... Your Paradise, perhaps...?"

"The Stars Guide Us" is an original 18+ WC-Adjacent roleplay based on an archipelago of islands close to the equator.

None of the locations are meant to reflect any one real-life Location, and we have our own in-world, original lore that features a Polytheistic Religion, with chances to play as other species, make allies, and forge new beliefs and paths, as well. Planned events are available upon request and IRP development, and the first arc is yours for the influencing!

We actively strive for a character and roleplayer driven experience.

Got questions? Send us an ask!

Anything to show us? Tag us or use our hashtags!

#thestarsguideus-rp

#TSGU-RP

Any other questions that need a short time to be answered? Feel free to message us!

We'll do our best to get back to you as quickly as we're able to!

May the stars, Everlasting and bright, Guide your path...

[catlover4536]

Heya @themissbanshee , so for the first time in a long time I've kept my internet art promise and drew you Fem!Wally in the Monika outfit, with some changes here and there to get it to fit her better! She did turn out pretty cute, don't you think?

Of course, this is also your reminder that I've thought of her a lot these last few days. I've done a few sketches of her, and that is probably why the Monika outfit turned out so good ahhahahm.

[fingertipsmp3]

Last night’s dream was the first one I’ve had in a long time where I wanted to fall back asleep and stay in it/experience it again

[sheyshen]

tonight my brain is fighting between wanting to keep working on clearing out my room so i can deep clean it and set it up as a room again, wanting to finish dailies and some other stuff on xiv, wanting to finish the monthly and the new patch on wow and wanting to play bg3.

[mywritersmind]

hey girl! are you writing for franco atm??? if so I wanted to see if you could write smth like fluff or reader and franco get in a fight maybe bcs of the time zones and races and he surprises her one night before race weekend like he catches a flight to see her but she still won’t budge on talking to him xxx

YELL AND FLY - FC43

listen up : just arguing but ending in comfort. thanks for the request this lowk almost made me cry

word count : 877

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I can hear him pacing, the sounds of drilling and tires in the background, “I’m just tired, Franco.” We’ve been like this for an hour, I keep hearing him swear in spanish and making sure everyone leaves him alone.

“You don’t think I am?” he groans as someone tries to speak to him again, “Fuck, obviously I’m tired! You’re not the one working every weekend.”

I scoff and sit up in my bed, the sun not even up yet, “That's unfair and you know it, Franco! I work! I work even more when you’re away!” I say sarcastically, “But I'm sorry that you have to do the job you chose and you love!”

I shake my head as he responds, “I didn’t mean that, love.”

“Yes you did. And that’s fine but don’t push your anger onto me. You always do shit like this.”

“Like what?” His voice raises.

I run my hand into my hair, “You don’t think I support you.”

“Well it’s hard to think that when you’re not here supporting me.” I want to hit him, then myself. How could he think that? After I said I wanted to be there but couldn’t because I was fucking working. He takes it back quickly, “I’m sorry i’m just overwhelmed-”

“Franco. I’m tired.” Tired of this. Tired of waking up so early and staying up late for a ten minute call where we just fight, “we should talk about this later.”

He still sounds angry, “I’m busy all day.”

I stay silent. What am I supposed to say? Cry and tell him to not be? I have no choice but to nod.

“Good luck.”

He sighs, I hear the ruffling of his hair, “I’m sorry. I wish you were here.”

“Me too.” He’s mad at me and I’m mad at him. I’ve been with Franco long before his F1 debut, but us yelling over the phone every weekend isn’t something I expected with the job.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I watched his race, texted him, and logged off social media for the day. He’s off to Mexico but I just can’t leave right now. I’m sitting in the kitchen, eating my cereal and leaning over the counter while listening to Taylor Swift.

There’s a knock at the door, I groan. I’m in the same pajamas as two days ago and my hair is in the messiest bun I've seen in a while.

When I open the door, my jaw actually drops.

“Franco?” I poke him as if I think he’s some figment of my imagination. Have I really gone that crazy that I'm imagining my boyfriend at my door?

“Hi, love.” He’s real. He walks in, shutting the door softly. I want to cry as he slips his arms around me, “I’m so sorry.”

His voice washes over me and I hug him tighter, breathing him in and realizing how much I missed how he smells.

“I’m mad at you.” It comes out as a whisper, my voice broken and sad.

“You can be.” I pull back a bit, his hands in my hair, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Why are you here?” I cross my arms, stepping back.

Franco looks nervous, a bag by his side, “I wanted to see you. I thought you wanted that too…”

“Of course I did!” I sigh dramatically.

He smiles at my anger, “So, I'm here for you.”

I shake my head, going to the kitchen and cleaning up my breakfast. I don’t know how to feel. I’m so happy he’s here. But then what? He’ll just leave again and I’ll watch two second clips of him on the TV?

He follows me into the kitchen, “Love… Let me do it.” I let him because I hate the dishes.

I sit on the counter, watching him gently washing the bowl with his sleeves rolled up. He drys his hands, then looks up at me.

“I’m sorry for being mad.” I look at the floor but he steps in between my legs so I look at him, “It’s just hard.”

“It’s hard for me too. I want you there all the time but I'm so proud of you!” he puts his hands on my outer thighs, “Time Zones suck.”

I laugh, wiping my eyes from the tears that spill down my face, “I’m proud of you too. Shit, you’re so amazing. I hate working.”

“Quit.” He says it so fast.

“Franco!” I swat at his arm, letting out a sort of sob laugh.

“Okay, you can quit when I get a full time seat.” I laugh as he smiles softly up at me, “I know it’s rough right now.”

“We can work through it. We’re us.” His thumbs smooth over my cheeks.

He nods, “We’re us.”

“How long are you here for?”

He frowns, “I leave tomorrow night.” I frown with him, “But I'm here now.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. I look up at my boyfriend, his hands on me. I know I need to live in the moment now.

I kiss him softly and he pulls me into another hug, his arms around my waist, “I love you.”

I run my hands through his hair, “I love you too. We can do this.”

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Friends We Made Along The Way Modern AU Part 2

Ive been getting a couple requests for modern day kid/killer, and ive had this perona design in the works for months now. But the final straw was the realization from that one ask i got that i have nothing for Koala in my au yet. So i had to rectify that.

ASL Brothers Modern AU

East Blue Crew Modern Au

Grand Line Crew Modern Au

Friends We Made Along The way Post

additional head-canons:

Koala volunteers at the hospital that Sabo works at as a physical therapy assistant on the weekends. it is very seldom she has free time due to her department store job, doordash job, and volunteering.

Perona, along with Zoro, was a foster child to Mihawk. they both came to live with him when they were teenagers. She still lives with him, but she pays rent and their relationship is more like roommates than father-Daughter atm.

kid and killer are saying up for a trip to Hawaii. They really wanna go up the Mauna Kea mountain and breathe in it’s famously clean air.

additional koala headcanons on this post

Perona has taken up a bit of fencing lessons from Mihawk, and has generally absorbed a lot of information about swords from just being around Zoro and Mihawk all the time.

Kid lives in a very crappy building with 7 other roommates, but he winds up crashing at killer's place most of the time

Killer collects posters of movies he likes that he steals from the movie theater as they come out.

Thanks for reading 👍

[pixiesfz]

100% yes to a steph catley x child!reader series please!

only because you asked so nicely!

steph catley x child! series

plot: when Steph met sunshine

warnings: mentions of death, cancer, Steph isn't with dean atm and a sad beth mead

Steph wasn't planning on having children, at least not yet.

She was planning on finding a partner and then maybe have kids from then on like her childhood friends had done.

But one day she got a call from her agent from Arsenal to go see some of the sick kids at a local hospital with other teammates and that's when she met your sister.

Her room was the only room without hundreds of cards and only a small amount of toys she was way too old for now in her basket.

"Her parents might've cleaned it out" Beth shrugged as Steph, Viv, Stina and herself walked towards the room with a nurse who turned around at her statement.

"Just to warn you" she whispered, her smile she had dropping at the information she knew "This is Lara, her parent's died in a car accident when she was much younger, she's 16 now and suffers from brain cancer"

Steph's heart dropped at the woman's words as she looked up, catching eyes with Lara through the window that separated her room from the hallways.

"How long does she have left?" Beth asked as Viv wrapped her arm around her girlfriend, knowing this could be a soft subject for her.

"It's not looking good and with her only visitor being her sister-" "She has a sister?" Stina asked, her hands playing with her necklace "she’s a little ray of sunshine" the nurse smiled "She's gorgeous and is always putting smiles on everybody's faces when she visits"

The group started walking to Lara's room when Steph heard a childlike laugh through the doors as a little Brunette, just younger than four years old skipped through with a smile and an adult behind her.

"Nurse Cara!" she sang out, her small British accent making Steph smile before she entered Lara's room.

Compared to the other rooms she had been in it was bare but Lara seemed content as she waved to the cameraman who was shooting little things throughout the day.

"Hi Lara these are some of the players from-" "Arsenal I know" she smiled, her dimples appearing "I'm a bit of a fan" Steph laughed "Good I thought you were about to say you were a blue"

"never"

Beth sat on the end of the girl's bed "Did you watch the latest game?" she asked and Lara nodded "Congrats on your come back" she smiled and Steph thought she could see Beth's tears water.

But the room was interrupted by a knock "Sorry to interrupt" a small voice called and Steph recognized it as the little girl who had run in before.

"Hey sunshine" Lara smiled and you ran to her bed, trying to climb up before you gave up and turned to the woman who was sitting next to Lara's bed.

"Can you help me?"

Your voice soft and not at all nervous as Steph looked at you "me?" she asked and you nodded, lifting your arms up for the woman to lift you up onto your sisters bed.

"Sissy!" you squealed, crawling to your older sister who was inside her bed.

At the sight Beth got up, quickly excusing herself from the sight before her tears fell down her face, Viv and Stina following as it left Steph alone with the two girls.

"This is Steph she plays for Arsenal" Lara smiled and you looked at the TV where you would usually watch the football your sister loved so much.

"I like Chelsea" you shrugged and your sister gasped "What?" Steph exaggerated and you giggled, hiding your self into your sister's neck "Has pretty girl name" you continued to giggle.

Steph smiled sadly as she watched the two sisters get along, knowing that you didn't know how much time your sister had left, but Steph did leave with one positive thought that night.

She became a regular at the hospital, sometimes you were there and sometimes she would sit and chat with Lara, bringing her signed jerseys and telling little inside stories, Steph found some comfort in the girl and some of her younger self, especially whenever you came in.

"Lara's the best big sister ever!" you exclaim one night as Lara falls asleep "She's been sleeping a lot lately," you say after with a frown and Steph nods "She just needs some rest," she tells you as you yawned "do you need a rest too?" she asked and you nodded, climbing onto Steph's chair and getting comfortable in her lap, cuddling into her neck as she smiled.

Lara woke up to the sight of Steph holding you, a smile finding it's way to her face as she did.

She knew she didn't have much time left.

"She really likes you" Lara spoke up softly as Steph jolted, thankfully not waking you up "I didn't mean to scare you" Lara smiled and Steph laughed softly

"I remember you telling me she never met your parents properly" Steph said and Lara nodded "she was about two weeks old, my pa's dad was looking after us and they got into an accident on their way to pick us up" Lara told Steph as she nodded

"I'm all she has left" a tear escaped Lara's eye, Steph leaning over to wipe it away "I've been fighting for her but it's so exhausting I'm not sure I can anymore" Lara cried.

And that's when Steph made her first ever promise

"She'll have me."

[bonkalore]

First 2 pics and the last were done at different times, but they're during the same bit. At first it was just gonna be Jayce dealing with that alone and I almost scrapped it, but having Lucy there to help him deal and clean up made me think to maybe keep it anyway! X'D Definitely a sucker for these kind of scenes.

Basically his glamour started wearing out and got a tear and then he was barely able to get away to the public bathroom at a restaurant before it went haywire and broke loose, letting his huge form out fully... Really bad timing. Esp bc they're out with Lucy's parents and meeting them for the first time lol Poor Jayce. They still try to salvage things from here, but it is later into the story when things are getting worse for him and his form with the Dread.

Also in the last pic, Lucy was trying to help and got her forehead cut on one of his spikes trying to get in closer and he demanded to see the damage and inspect it closer, even tho he's clearly got more going on than a scrape atm, but he wants to make sure she's ok!!

[sukunasbow]

sick, bellamy blake.

summary: in which you take care of bellamy blake when he catches the virus spreading around the camp!

warnings: fem!reader, kane’s daughter!reader, kinda ‘enemies’ to lovers, mentions of blood and puking, doesn’t exactly follow the original scene from the show, some use of (y/n), and not proof read so grammar but be really trash atm since i wrote this at like five in the morning!

notes: this is lowkey bad and i don’t know if anyone still reads the 100 works but enjoy to anyone who likes this!

“Clarke!” Jasper yells, running towards the drop ship, catching your attention. “What? She’s resting, I’m taking over.” You walk towards the doorway, pulling down the old shirt you have wrapped around your neck to cover your face, wondering what’s wrong now.

Murphy brought back some virus from the grounders, quickly spreading it to almost everyone at the camp. Due to this, you’ve spent the entirety of the night walking around the ship, cleaning up the bloody faces of the people around you and giving clean water to them after Clarke caught the virus and could no longer take over.

As you reach the doorway, your eyes widen when you see Jasper standing next to three boys. One of the boys is being held up by the other two. “Bellamy?” You immediately run towards the boys when you realize who it is, “Jasper, stay outside, you can’t get sick.” You instruct, stopping him from getting any closer to his sick friend. “Come on, help me make space!” You yell, leading the boys towards a dirty cot in the drop ship. “Here, thanks.” You tell them, the boys carefully lying him down before quickly leaving the room full of sick teenagers.

“Bell?!” Octavia rushed towards her brother, who you quickly turn on his side as he starts throwing up blood. “Oh my god.” You squint, somehow still not used to the sight of bloody vomit. As much as you hate the stubborn and self appointed ‘leader,’ you felt awful seeing his current state. “I got this.” Octavia places a hand on your shoulder, letting you know she wants to take care of her brother and have some space, “Call me if you need me.” You nod.

“Hey, get some rest, let me take over now.” You whisper, kneeling down next to Octavia and her sleeping brother. “Are you sure?” She bites her lip, clearly struggling to stay awake. “Yes, go sleep.” You smile. Octavia gives in and accepts your offer, going to sleep near Clarke, still close enough incase anything happens while she’s resting.

Moments later, your eyebrows raised at the sound of Bellamy moving around. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” You breathe out, trying to be as gentle as you can, awkwardly touching his arm. He opens his eyes even more, squinting to make sure it’s you.

“Oh. I thought you hated me, huh? Yet you’re taking care of me?” Somehow while he’s going through a deadly virus, he still manages to piss you off and be arrogant. “Would you rather me just let you choke on your own blood?” You scoff. He lets out a raspy laugh, coughing up some blood in the process. “Ew.” You fake gag when you notice some of the blood splatter on your shoes, still trying to remain lighthearted. “Shut up.” He huffs. “Let me help, sit up a bit.” You mumble, taking the shirt you previously were using as protection and dipping it into a clean bucket of water, then moving closer to Bellamy. “You need to stay away, stop.” He pushes you away, only now noticing the lack of face covering you have on. “It’s fine.” You move back to where you were, carefully grabbing his face, running your thumb over his cheekbones as you gently dab the wet cloth on his face. The dried blood slowly washes off of his face.

“There he is.” You place the cloth down beside him. “I can finally see your smug face.” You joke, earning an eye roll from him. “All better.” You hum. A small smile appears on your face as his eyes start fluttering shut. Although you’re supposed to be against him and his shit leading skills, you still feel a part of you melting at the closeness between you and him. “Okay, you can go back to sleep.” You laugh at Bellamy’s attempt to stay sitting up and awake. “Wait, no, I should-” He starts, you quickly stopping him from moving. “Bellamy.” You whisper, “Please, just let yourself relax.” You tone is soft and gentle, something that surprises both of you, even more the man, his eyes softening. He feels his own heart melt, which also surprises him.

As he goes back to lying down, he watches as you carefully walk away, weaving around the drop ship, avoiding the other people that are lying down. He catches himself almost smile. Now, he realizes he might feel something opposite of ‘hatred’ towards you, the stubborn daughter of Marcus Kane that always disagrees with him, who he’s supposed to be against.

[louebel]

Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub... 

"... phew ..." 

scrub... poof! 

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..." 

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious. 

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it. 

If only you weren't sick. 

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn." 

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you. 

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary. 

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off. 

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed. 

Or not. 

"Ow, ow..." 

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid. 

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why. 

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you? 

Those sweet memories... 

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you. 

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..."��

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously... 

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood. 

Now? If he saw one inch of your form? 

Sigh. His face always went red. 

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer? 

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting. 

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought. 

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy. 

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough... 

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it. 

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it. 

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you. 

Ugh... 

You wished it could all go back to normal. 

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe. 

"... Okay, I'm done." 

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to. 

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later. 

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in. 

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and — 

knock knock. 

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm. 

You waited. 

... knock knock. 

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work. 

Okay. 

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now. 

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light. 

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them... 

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight. 

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him. 

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes. 

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.) 

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone. 

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself.. 

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you. 

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?— 

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?" 

"Huh?" 

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all. 

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention. 

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you. 

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly. 

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry." 

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape. 

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now. 

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it. 

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct. 

"Well? I'm waiting." 

"..." 

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.  

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage. 

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and— 

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three. 

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis. 

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name. 

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed. 

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy. 

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next. 

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything. 

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—" 

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?" 

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream. 

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it. 

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long. 

"You're cold... Off." 

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued. 

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager. 

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep. 

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him. 

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions. 

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him. 

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think. 

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” 

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary. 

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?" 

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly. 

"Law …'m sorry if I smell." 

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point. 

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh." 

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form. 

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful." 

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines. 

"U- uuh... W- where..?" 

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here." 

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water. 

The second tasted awful. 

"E—eugh..." 

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good." 

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot... 

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases. 

“Do you feel better now..?” 

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you. 

Your question puzzled him. 

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side. 

"What?" 

“I … I missed you." 

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest. 

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...” 

Shit. 

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...” 

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability. 

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..? 

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…” 

"Aargh..." 

Warm. 

"Mmh..." 

It was very warm. Pleasant. 

"Hn..." 

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm. 

The pillow was so nice, though... 

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament. 

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours. 

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch. 

He looked peaceful. 

"... Law?" 

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you. 

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening." 

You were mad at him. You were mad at him. 

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention. 

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit. 

"I'm in my pajamas?" 

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it." 

"..." 

"..." 

Pause number two. 

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant." 

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening. 

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed. 

"You inhaled it, didn't you?" 

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all." 

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks. 

"Y—Yeah." 

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed." 

"O—oh... That bad?" 

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.” 

“Hey—” 

“You're fine." 

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well. 

"Well?" 

"... You ignored me. You made it clear." 

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out. 

"I—I didn't." 

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—" 

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress. 

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you." 

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance. 

You just... didn't know. 

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?" 

"Of course not!" 

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours. 

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours. 

If he explained, it would've been easier. 

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—" 

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest." 

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not. 

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—" 

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss." 

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep. 

"I... You did nothing that bothers me." 

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part. 

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding. 

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach. 

He couldn't be serious. 

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep." 

"What?" 

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth. 

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose. 

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry. 

"Hey... I—" 

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!" 

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you. 

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him. 

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..." 

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious. 

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't. 

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him. 

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight. 

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings. 

"... You what, Law?" 

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed. 

His hands craved yours. 

"I like—I like you!" 

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed. 

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you." 

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed. 

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—" 

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances. 

"... Law." 

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—" 

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about... 

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self. 

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize. 

"Law." 

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—" 

Your heartbeats matched. 

"Law!" 

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him. 

"It's... the same." 

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises. 

"Huh? Wh — what?" 

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too." 

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were. 

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer. 

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone. 

All is back to normal. 

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder. 

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer... 

Closer... 

"Closer?" 

"Alright." 

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short. 

How you missed holding it. 

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face. 

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change. 

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait. 

He felt lighter. 

“… Truly?” 

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.” 

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit. 

His eyes glistened. 

“I’d like that. Thank you.” 

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return. 

He can take all the time he needs. 

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them. 

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning. 

"Tired?" 

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it. 

"Mm, there were a lot of them." 

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks." 

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it." 

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?" 

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it. 

"... Meet me at my office once you're done." 

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

[fadedin2u]

switch!ellie headcanons

okay i know this has been a much debated topic, but in my expert personal opinion as a switch, i think ellie is canonically a switch (maybe a dom-leaning switch but definitely still a switch)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

✮ she’s usually the one to initiate, and it’s not necessarily purposeful either

✮ she’ll just come back after a grueling patrol, exhausted, planning on just cuddling with you and passing tf out

✮ but as soon as she’s touching you, monkey brain will take over and she’ll start smoothing her hands over your waist and hips

✮ “don’t get turned on-“ you warn, knowing that she needs the rest

✮ “too late,” she’ll say as she palms your ass

✮ as much as i love the hc of ellie dirty talking depraved shit during sex, i don’t really see that in canon ellie

✮ when she’s in a dom mood, she’s definitely more of a service top than anything (u saw that girl on the farm, u cannot honestly tell me that she’s not)

✮ she’ll start turning you on and she’ll be all up in your ear like “tell me what you need, baby, whatever you need i’ll take care of, i promise-“

✮ ellie’s a certified munch (obvs)

✮ eats pussy like it’s her last meal

✮ is also absolutely the type to eat it after she hits it, telling you that she needs to ‘clean you up’

✮ this has been much discussed atm but it’s true, your girl LOVES tribbing

✮ loves fucking you with her strap too, but it’s a completely different ballgame to be skin to skin

✮ specifically loves tribbing in missionary (bc she’s a slut for watching your reactions) and reverse cowgirl, kneading your ass with both hands as she helps you grind back on her

✮ (unpopular opinion, ellie’s an ass girl. proof: have u SEEN dina)

✮ can’t help but praise you, and she’s overly chatty during sex

✮ “you take it so fucking well, jesus fuck-“, “so fuckin’ gorgeous”

✮ loves to watch your expressions, and is the kind of person that loves to be making some sort of eye contact during sex to feel connected to her partner

✮ tends to enjoy the act of giving her partner pleasure more than receiving it (a little bit of an anxiety thing tbh)

✮ but truly, sometimes your girl just needs to be taken care of for once in her life

✮ so when she’s more subby, she’ll just be overly grabby and handsy, but won’t initiate

✮ eventually, you just flat out ask her, “els, do you need something?” and her freckled face will get all red awww

✮ like u know how ellie got when jesse and dina were talking in seattle? that’s def similar to her energy when she feels more submissive

✮ she definitely gets self conscious about how whiny and high pitched her moans get and tries to restrain herself when she’s feeling more dominant

✮ but when she’s on bottom?? you make it your GOAL to make her as loud as possible

✮ likes wearing the strap more than taking it, but ends up liking getting fucked with it WAY more than she thought she would

✮ (more of a modern!au hc but) when you ask her why she’s mad about that, she says, “it pisses me off that a dick feels good inside me, that shit’s homophobic!”

✮ but she tends to get the loudest when you eat her out, mostly because it’s just so hot to have your head between her thighs

✮ absolutely LOVES to get finger fucked by you, and will borderline (or actually) beg for your fingers inside her

✮ she begs sooo pretty whether she’s dom or sub

✮ afterwards, she’s the kind of person that needs to cuddle for a minimum of 1 hour or else she’ll get a little depressed (me core)

✮ luckily, you’re happy to oblige

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

okay i need to go get spayed luv u babes

[bearw-me]

Post-extermination!Lute x fem reader? Where lute is trying to show that she's still good/strong enough for reader and she can still be independent. Along with reader comforting Lute about how she's still perfect for her. (Details and examples below bc i enjoy rambling sorry)

I imagine that after loosing her arm lute would be very showy about overcompensating for it. And that if reader even tried to treat her bit differently, like being more SLIGHTLY gentle/careful with her, lute would get offended tell her to knock it off.

Lute's a strong woman, pre-extermination her carried reader alllll the time. Post-extermination Lute would most certainly still try too (and surprisingly succeeds somehow) despite the reader's worries of being dropped or being too heavy for 1 arm.

This ranges from trying to hold all the groceries alone to trying to prove she's still good in the bedroom by not allowing the reader to help (like she'd literally tell reader to let her do it alone)

I hope you have a wonderful day!!!

dont apologize for requesting! i adore long requests! they have all the little details for the prompt included that make the story just- *chefs kiss*

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐨 𝐈𝐭 — 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𐐒 includes : post-extermination!lute x fem!reader 𐐒 cw : fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blood/stitches/wounds 𐐒 summary : lute's adjusting to life after extermination day, and as her girlfriend, you hope to make it easier on her 𐐒 note : i don't even know what to call my rambling anymore lol, love it

like we all saw at the end of the season, lute is full or rage- and a little hurt

the loss of her arm, initially, didn't hurt as much as losing her best friend

it takes longer for her to heal and accept the sudden turn of events

she doesn't want it to stop her or hold her back, especially from her relationship with you (especially with the loss of adam) she'd want to hold on tight to you

(like in the ask) Lute isn't one to just be beaten down by this, its a challenge she's going to fking overcome-by herself

likes to do things for YOU instead of the other way around, like if you want a snack or something she won't even let you stand up (let alone THINK) about grabbing it yourself

definitely wouldn't tell you about how she feels unless its too much, but you can see it in her; the way she's sluggish or looking down more often.

(although im not sure atm) I assume Lute is right-handed; without the left, things can get a bit trivial at times

like when you watch her try to balance her long spear with one arm, the weight of the steel trembling between her fingers. the muscles in her arms not used to carrying the entire weight by itself

Lute carrying you with one arm: she tries like how she used to, by putting an arm under your arms to support your back-but stops when she realizes she cant pick you up bridal style

I think she could manage holding you that way, around your back if you also hold onto her by wrapping your arms around her shoulders

(on this note) you being so close to her face is the perfect opportunity for her to kiss you

Hugging her from the back is not happening- her wings and all. . .

If you tried to help her take care of her arm too; bandaging it or cleaning it; she'd refuse all help and lock herself in the bathroom until she's handled it herself

(you can hear a ton of mumbled swearing and things knocking around)

its not a you thing, its a her thing; she needs to prove to herself that she can do it

Lute would hate all the flowers the other exterminators would get her; to the point she wouldn't even acknowledge the roses you placed on her nightstand

she's too stubborn to ever say it, but she's thankful you're still with her: Lute giving you soft kisses when she thinks your asleep, whispering all the 'thank you's' she doesn't think she could ever say to you awake

The loss of her arm pushes her to work harder, especially on the arm she still has in order to compensate for what happened

Technically, the hell-spawn didn't take her arm, but they still took a lot from her- she doesn't want that to mean they could take you from her too

You bet your ass the day will come where she picks up that spear again, better than fucking ever

[archangeldyke-all]

Hiii i love ur writing, do u think u could do something for Sev with a reader w adhd ?? How shed keep you on task but not condescendingly and remind you to get up and eat, listen to you talk about fixations and stuff :) having a hard time with people calling me distracting and lazy atm and some cute fluff would be adorbs if u have any time !! :)

sure!!

men and minors dni

sevika takes it upon herself to put reminders, alarms, and appointments in your phone for you. she knows that you fully intend to each time, but you just forget. she doesn't mind slipping your phone out of your pocket and setting a quick alarm titled 'facetime mom' at 8 pm after overhearing you making the plan over the phone earlier that day.

she thinks it's adorable when you get super intense and focused on a project. even if it's completely absurd. in fact, she realized she was in love with you one night when she stumbled home and found you in her kitchen, your phone playing a tutorial video, your laptop playing a movie, the radio playing music, surrounded by parts of her once-assembled microwave.

"babe?" she asked, blinking down at you.

you looked up at her and smiled. "hi love! your microwave was makin' a weird noise, but then when i started looking into it i realized it needed a deep clean. but then i got distracted taking it apart because i've always been curious as to how microwaves work-- like i get that it's radiation but how is it conducted? and where does it go? so i found a manual and got out the toolbox..."

you ramble on while sevika looks down at you fondly, a small smile on her lips as she realizes she's not even a little bit mad. in fact, she's happy that you've trashed her microwave, because you seem so interested and entertained. she's gone completely soft for you.

she'd also really appreciate the fact that you're always 'bugging' her. that's what you call it, worried that you distract her when you chat her ear off or track her down across the house to ask her what her favorite species of fish is, but she always assures you it's the exact oppisite.

sevika's mind doesn't work like yours. when she's in 'work' mode, it's all she's focused on. so when she's scrubbing the tiles of the kitchen, or filing your taxes, or tinkering on her arm, she's never expecting your funny questions or sweet anecdotes. you're always surprising her, making her bark a sweet laugh as she tries to think up a response to your ramblings. in short: you keep her entertained, you keep her day to day life lively.

and, if she ever overheard someone calling you annoying or distracting or lazy, she'd go to war for you babe. she knows how frustrating it is for you sometimes the way your mind works, but she also sees how unique and special it makes you, and she's never gonna let somebody else make you feel like shit for something she loves so much about you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352

[joekeeryswife]

u should defo do a fic where r breaks something at steve’s house and she’s apologising and crying and starts panicking & steve just comforts her bc he knows the feeling all too well bc of his dad

ur writing is literally terrific love 💕💕

Picture frame - s.h

hello love, thank you for your request! i hope this is okay, i am not really liking my writing atm. this is really short and i hope that’s okay. feedback is always appreciated and my requests are open- enjoy x (also did i have a mental break down about Steve possibly dying in season 5? yes. a lot of crying has been done)

taglist (feel free to add yourself 🤍):if there is a line through your @ i can’t tag you x @eddieamoremio @johnricharddeacy @theshireisonfire @ssababe @snackycake1975.

it was late and you were tired, so tired that Steve had to put his arm around your waist to keep you up right so you could walk to the door. Steve had taken you on a date which was rare. you were both so busy all the time with working, you both had different schedules and it was hard to figure out a day where you were both free.

luckily this weekend you were both off so a date night was 100% needed. he’d taken you to a restaurant and then to the movies, it was just the cutest date and it suited both of you. you were in Steve’s house more then you were in your own and it was all because of your dad, like Steve, you and your dad didn’t get along.

he was just one of those dads who hated their daughters and loved their sons. you had two older brothers and one younger one and it was like you were the outcast. you got along with your mum though, she was always on your side and stuck up for you when your dad shouted but there wasn’t a lot she could do.

to your dad, anything you did was wrong. he’d shout at you to the point where the neighbours would call the police with a noise complaint because of how loud he was. this is why you loved staying at Steve’s, it was quiet and comforting and you never felt scared being with him.

Steve’s house was dark and you being tired and disorientated you had no idea where Steve was leading you to. Steve knew you were tired. he could tell as soon as you got out of the cinema that the moment your head would hit his pillow you’d be out like a light.

Steve had to go into the kitchen to finish the dishes before his parents came back (which he had absolutely no clue when they would) because the last time they came back unannounced, per usual, he hadn’t cleaned up the house to the ‘family standard’ and was shouted at by both his parents for being too lazy when they went off for different business trips.

he carefully laid you down on the couch and kissed your forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. you didn’t wanna be on the couch, all you wanted to do was be in Steve’s bed with his hoodie and joggers on so you did the only logical thing, got up off of the sofa and started making your way to Steve’s bedroom still half asleep.

the next thing you heard was glass smashing which woke you up out of your sleepy state. you immediately went down to the floor and saw it was a picture of Steve and his parents. the glass on the picture frame had smashed all over the floor and the wooden part had also broken. you instantly felt tears welling up in your eyes.

the last time you had broken something was in your house and you had gotten screamed at for it by your dad. you had absolutely no idea how Steve would react, would he be mad? would he shout at you? so many negative thoughts ran through your mind as you picked up all the big bits of glass and put them in your hand.

Steve heard the smashing and quickly left the dishes to find you on your hands and knees picking up shards of glass with thick tears rolling down your face. Steve could see a little bit of blood on your hand, you’d definitely cut it on the glass. you heard Steve’s footsteps approaching you as you kept picking up the glass but it was difficult with how teary eyed you were.

you looked up and saw Steve towering over you with a confused look on his face. the only thing you knew what to do was apologise and beg for forgiveness. you didn’t want Steve to shout at you but you had broken something of his and surely he was going to be mad. “i’m so sorry Steve. i didn’t even see the picture and i should of been looking and i’ll-”

Steve bent down to your level and lifted his hand to wipe away the tears which were falling down your cheeks quickly. “baby, it’s okay. it’s only a picture frame” he gave you a genuine smile to try and calm you down but it was no use.

your tears were still falling, if Steve wasn’t mad then his parents most definitely would be “but i broke it” Steve had never heard your voice like this. so soft yet so weak. it honestly broke his heart. “by accident. it’s only a picture frame sweetheart. it can be replaced. now, let me see your hands”

he watched as you opened your hands up for him to see and saw some bits of glass in your left hand were covered in blood. he started to pick the glass out of your hands and put them on top of the picture and once all of the glass was out of both of your hands he took your hands into his. “come on, we need to clean you up baby”

you and Steve stood up from the floor and he guided you to the kitchen. Steve started cleaning up your hand and you watched intently as he did so. he was gentle and made sure he didn’t hurt you. “i’m really sorry Steve” he shook his head and lent down to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “stop apologising. it’s honestly fine honey” Steve knew how your dad was and he also knew what it was like for a parent to dislike their kid, he’d lived through it himself.

when he saw you sobbing on the floor like that he knew his only approach should be a soft one. you hadn’t done anything wrong and it didn’t matter. it was a picture frame. Steve always wanted you to feel loved and that’s why he was always so gentle with you when you were upset, he loved you so much and nothing would ever change that, even if you did break another picture frame his feelings would never change.

[lukolabrainrot]

I know you've put some of your theories out there about A, but does it really make sense to you? And, do you think N could also be in a relationship perhaps?

I just can't reconcile what's happening with L & A with the press tour. And I find it hard to believe that A is a crazy manipulator, when she seems to be fully integrated into L's friend group. Don't get me wrong, his friends don't seem like my cup of tea, but I think some of the fandom has gone a bit far with the negative assumptions made.

I wonder if he's just biding time with her atm, as if they break up it makes this awkward with his close group of friends?

LOVEEEEE this blog BTW

Xx

Thank you for the compliment and glad you are here!!

I will agree that a lot of the negative comments and theories around A have been really uncalled for! And it's never appropriate to go to someone's SM and spew hate. However, with the optics of everything since Papgate, and the more evidence that is coming out (especially this last week), I think it is becoming more clear that she IS a bit of a wild card on a PR level. That doesn't really have anything to do though with how well she integrates with his friend group. I think she does get along really well with R & S (particularly S), and that may possibly add an extra layer of complication for L when/if he wants to unravel from this situation. Lastly, and this is just an observation, but I think some of the adjacent people in L's life (like S/R/A) like to poke the bear, because some people in this particular fandom have proven easy to poke. They WANT a reaction, which I think explains some of their SM activity lately. Which is why I personally choose not to follow them and kind of just ignore them lol. Because at the end of the day, they really have nothing to do with L's skillset and his career.

This might be an opinion that a lot of people don't agree with, but I personally don't think N is in any type of romantic relationship rn. I think that rumor sprouted on SM and was further fueled by the DM narrative about N & JD (which I don't believe at all). I think she's busy with work, hanging out with FRIENDS, and MAYBE casually dating (but we don't really have any concrete proof of that one way or the other). I personally think (and this is just an opinion), that she is just focusing on herself and waiting for L to clean up the mess he made 👀

I still stand by my theories though that I made about A here. I also acknowledge that I 100% believe L/A are still in some type of relationship. I don't think they are in a super happy place though and madly in love. BUT I could also end up being wrong. However, the public optics of everything around L/A the last few months don't signal to me that everything is hunky dory with the two "lovebirds" (and hasn't been for a while I believe) 🤔

[windienine]

YOU. Kicks my legs like we're at a sleepover. Who was the character u were posting about in the tags.. spill..

kicking my legs back, ready to paint your nails at any time soooooo

okay i already dedicated a whole 2k word post to his partner goddess weird animal who bites him sometimes personal jester friend (?) Ysmé, so this time I'm going to spill about Loïc Ard from Soul of Sovereignty (prelude), an hour-long adult fantasy visual novel preview (< link here) that arrived on itch late last year courtesy of webcomic artist GGDG (if you're familiar with Lady of the Shard or CQ, you know their work)

So. This idiot.

look at this character design. the people hunger for men with strong cheekbones and glasses. look at the robes that attach at the fucking fingertips to draw attention to the position of his hands.

He's very soft-spoken and sweet. He knows a lot about the history of his world, as well as the biology of what lives there. He's staggeringly generous to others, even complete strangers. He's good at cooking. He knows how to sing.

He's the viewpoint character for the lion's share of the story atm, we get to look into his brain a little more often than Ysmé's for reasons that Will Become Rapidly Apparent As You Play.

Loïc is a middle-aged guy (late 30s? early 40s?) who works in an unofficial capacity at an inn in bugfuck nowhere (Tarn, a northerly village miles from anywhere else and regularly frozen solid by blizzards, with a population of Not Enough To Maintain Infrastructure), helping to cook, clean, and care for its mostly non-paying clientele, who his friend Alma, the proprietress, is allowing to stay for free. It's become a glorified sickhouse and shelter. No one is paying to stay in Tarn, but Alma can't turn her back on what she considers her hometown and Loïc can't turn his back on Alma (and he's here for other reasons too) so the inn is just kind of slowly decaying as conditions get less and less profitable. This sucks.

Especially because Tarn was built less than a century ago as an adventurers' hub for treasure hunting squads looking to uncover temples and relics right nearby, and the inn used to be full of good people and good food and fire and light and Alma wants all that back so bad it hurts and she refuses to say it's cooked and move back to the big city (in this case, the Mosaic, an ark-like vertical metropolis that housed humanity for hundreds of years after their world's apocalypse. After the outside was deemed safe again a century back, many people wanted to try and make a living documenting and salvaging stuff... but most of it turned out to be decayed, empty, and/or worthless, after so much time had passed.) The Mosaic is bright and lively, but it's a restrictive place to live for a lot of people-- cultures outside the dominant (very fantasy-Catholic) one are suppressed and the focus on making money to survive is exhausting.

But Loïc makes things a little less miserable. He's got a calm and pleasant bearing, he brightens up the place with flowers and greenery he manages to get growing even in this climate (he's a florist), and he's someone to talk to. He's witty, he's thoughtful, and he's almost a little too willing to dedicate all of his time and energy to helping people, and overall he's this mundane nice fella... with one big caveat you learn real early on.

Loïc is a mage, and a really unique sort.

The floristry bit isn't just his job or a characterization quirk, it's the whole basis of his magic. Species of flowers in this world each hold a unique concept-- fire (pallisia), calm (lavender), light (white dawn's eye), mundanity (dandelion), memory (cloud sage), you name it, there's probably some obscure botanical species that represents something in the ballpark of it. A god of language (Fayim) allegedly imbued a meaning into each, and if you can commune and reflect and experiment around hard enough to unravel the concept of one, you can turn that concept into something real.

Think of it like magical linguistics -- [correct flower] + [expressed meaning] = [physical effect], like [correct phonetics] + [contextual meaning] = [language]. You can even chain a couple of them to make a more complex spell, like turning words into compounds, phrases, and sentences, but you do have to understand what it actually means to do so. You're forming a connection to Fayim's power by talking. This burns up the flower, but Loïc's extreme dedication to botany means that he's got a regular supply of the spells he uses most often.

Loïc can hand you a golden pallisia blossom, start waxing poetic about the nature of warmth, and the firelight kept inside will radiate out and keep you comfortable even in Tarn's frigid weather. It's rare and potent stuff, doubly so because worship of Fayim is dwindling-to-nonexistent in the Mosaic, where the only faith and magic most people are familiar with at all are those revering the Builder, the creator deity who erected the Mosaic and saved humanity from the apocalypse in the first place. Everything else? False gods. Loïc himself doesn't worship Fayim or the Builder; he uses Fayimic magic but is pretty disconnected from his own background + faith in general. He's interested in the theology but doesn't use prayers in his invocation if he can help it.

Magic's not foreign to this world (most people in this world know at least a little artisanry, a more logical and physical approach to magic which lets you stitch together bespoke objects out of thin air, used heavily in both art and industry), but flower reading is a rare and dying language. Loïc's cute little flower shop back in the Mosaic was also a spell broker for people in need of small miracles. Given that the Mosaic worships a creator deity, I guess this implies that magic, generally, is something humans tap into extant divinity to borrow.

So, Loïc is holed up in Tarn studying magic and using mending spells (yellow rose) to cure people of minor injuries, but everything goes to hell when a certain sickly blonde washes up at the inn's doorstep begging for help escorting her to a nearby temple please please you gotta, she'll die from turbo tuberculosis otherwise, god (not the builder, some other guy, don't ask who) said so. Oh my gosh, you will? Thank you so muchhhhhh

[paraphrased very hard]

alma: this is definitely a scam of some kind. please just talk her out of this so she doesn't get eaten by mutant wolves.

loïc: oh for sure but you don't try for scam this obvious unless you're really desperate. idk what she even wants here, let me feel her out. i have nothing worth robbing. maybe this is a trauma thing or a money thing and i can talk to her about it.

alma: loïc, that's literally not your problem. loïc there's this weird pattern where you prioritize the hypothetical wants of strangers over your own proven needs. loïc no.

loïc: loïc yes

So, of course, it ends up coming out that Loïc is in Tarn specifically because he is a single father with a daughter named Lelia who is comatose from an unspecified illness. Her prognosis is extremely grim (low chance of survival that dwindles the longer she stays out, probably terminal.)

Specifically, he's on a hopeless little snipe hunt for a rumored species (the glass bell) that could act as a panacea for any illness, if harnessed correctly in a spell, and it might either be extinct or entirely fictitious.

He knows he can't find it alone. If it even exists, it is a needle in an impossibly massive haystack. He is consumed inside-out with a compulsive need to do something about it, and when that proves impossible, it starts spreading into a compulsive need to do something for anyone. The grief of admitting that Lia is already in a prolonged state of death would eat him alive, so if he can transfer that feeling of purpose onto anything else he can buoy himself. He is spinning his wheels because confronting the fact that he has outlived his own daughter and has to go on without her is impossible.

But like... he's dying slowly, too, in this state. Like Lia. Like Tarn. It's only a matter of time before there's nothing left of himself to give, and at the impetus of the story that's basically what he wants. There's nothing left for him.

... Unless...!!

OTHER THINGS:

would give blessings to his daughter every day before she went to school

apparently has a puppy and a kitty back home

loves lavender and sunflowers most

sometimes casts so hard he passes out

including other people and making his casting into a conversation is a quirk he does and that's just super cute

carries pictures of his daughter around in his spellbook maes hughes style

besides his suspiciously alb-and-chasuble looking mage robes, wears an apron and skirt around the house + gg regularly draws him in cute dresses. this is a known victor's weakness.

the in-game glossary has botany notes from him, usually paired with him waxing poetic about each species' meaning. this nerd shit is a known victor's weakness.

you see his general bearing and a lot of people assume he's kind of this easily-flustered anxious disaster type, but he's actually very serene and difficult to get a rise out of. he'll play along with most jokes you try to throw at him. if he does actually freak out at any point, you know something is up.

we don't know what happened between him and his ex, but there are dialogue clues that point to it being weird and messy. he's played very interestingly as far as divorcee characters go (conflict-avoidant rather than desperate for love, wants to be the better person at every opportunity), what with being a man who has primary custody of his kid (and a good relationship with her!) and taking on a position that the audience would probably identify as more motherly than fatherly, in terms of western gender roles. there's this fun contrast where he's very confident in his looks and presentation and bearing (very charismatic guy!!), but a lot of that is traditionally feminine. he's just very genderous.

(all of this tragically forgoes the meat of his special connection to ysmé, but that is the core premise of the prelude and if i got into that here it would really and truly give away the whole plot. i need you to experience her for yourself. (for ten dollar.) if you do not have ten dollar i will stream the game for you and give GG an additional ten dollar. this is a threat.)

(what i WILL say is that if you read lady of the shard, looked at the "sexualized mind control" tw beforehand and went "well now i want to read it more and not less," there is a delicious taste of that here and it once again intersects heavily with themes of control and coercion over the self, skewed power dynamics, and the emotions that arise from them.)

whatever horseshit this confluence of circumstances makes you assume he will pull, i guarantee you it is not the full picture of what actually happens.