#bc this is really NOT what i should be doing right now

[yelenasdiary]

hiii! I'm a big fan of yours !!

Can I request ? Bcs like I love Agatha but I barely find fluff of her it's just smut, I know it's good but we need fluff 2!!!

( something very domestic fluff, maybe based on wandavison Agatha! )

Little Temptress

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem! Reader

Summary: A relaxing afternoon with Agatha.  

Fluff

Warnings: Slight suggestive themes? Talks of skinny dipping/being naked. | 0.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x 

The late afternoon sun casted a long, warm shadows across the living room of the Harkness house in Westview. You were curled up on the sofa with a worn-out book in your lap, the sun’s warmth distracting you from the words in front of you. Enjoying the gentle breeze that drifted through the open window. 

Agatha was in the kitchen, softly humming a tuneless melody while she moved about, wanting to make you a warm mug of tea to drink while you read your book. The world outside never really saw this soft side of Agatha. To them, she was a loving neighbor who loved a bit of gossip and always had a sarcastic remark for everything. 

“Extra milk, just how you like it” she said, her voice low and soft not to disturb you too much. 

You smiled, taking the mug from her, “you read my mind! Thanks, honey” 

“Call it my sixth sense!” The woman with long wavy brown hair winked. 

You chuckled at her playful remark, “it’s a bit too quiet today, don’t you think?” You asked.

Agatha lightly shrugged, “Honey, you should hear the rambling Dottie was going on about today! And between you and I, something weird is happening at the Maximoff house” 

“How so?” You questioned with a light frown and a quick sip of your tea. 

“It’s practically humming with… chaotic potential” she said, taking a seat beside you. 

You raised a brow, “humming? You mean like a refrigerator?” 

“Oh, far more dramatic than that” she chuckled, “Vision seems to be on edge a lot” she added. 

“Well, I’m sure with you keeping an eye on them, they’ll be fine” you teased, you always teased her about being the neighborhoods watch dog. She chuckled once more, “somebody has too” 

You hummed at her words before taking another small sip of your tea. Almost naturally, Agatha gently placed a hand on top of your knee, “so, what would you like do on the weekend, hot stuff?” 

“Mmm, what about we go out for lunch tomorrow?” You suggested, “I heard there’s a new Greek restaurant in town”

Agatha smiled softly, “I’m listening” she said she with a raised brow 

“I also need to stop at the hardware store to get some gardening supplies, so maybe we could do that after” you replied, stretching your legs and carefully placing your mug on the coffee table. 

“Or, instead of you getting attacked by the rose bushes again, we could do a picnic by the creek?” Agatha suggested with her lips curling into a knowing smile. 

“A picnic? With you? You hate things like” you looked at her. 

“If the mood strikes, we could skinny dip” 

“Ahh, right” you chuckled, shaking your head playfully at her before straddling her lap, “and why would skinny dipping be on your list of things to do?” You asked. Her hands resting on your hips as she looked up at you with a mischief grin on her lips. “Oh honey, it’s not for me. I know how much you’ve wanted to go skinny dipping before, my little temptress”. 

“Or is this just your way to see me naked?” You cocked a brow at her. Agatha chuckled, “honey, I don’t need to take you skinny dipping to see you naked, we save water every morning” she reminded you. 

You leaned closer, your nose almost touching hers, a smirk playing on your own lips. "So, it's purely out of the goodness of your heart then?" You purred, your fingers teasing the edge of her shirt. "You're just selflessly fulfilling my deepest desires?"

Agatha’s grin widened, “something like that” she said. Her fingers now tracing lazy circles on your hips, sending a shiver down your spine. “Though I must admire, the thought of you splashing around all bare and breathtaking….it’s rather appealing image” her voice dropped that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Breathtaking, hmm?” You repeated, one hand going to cup her cheek, “and you expect me to believe that’s the only reason?” You lowered your head until your lips were a breath away from hers. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking with yours, “alright, maybe there is a tiny benefit in it for me” she said in an almost whisper before your lips locked with hers. Her fingers tightened on your hips, deepening the kiss while the image of skinny dipping flashed through her mind. 

Pulling away, you smiled against her lips, “well, who am I to deny a little selflessness?” You nuzzled into her neck, breaking in her familiar scent. There was no need for further discussion. A silent agreement passed between the two of you. The afternoon was spent in each other's arms, enjoying the peace that comforted the two of you. Agatha, not that she was a great one, cooked dinner for you both to enjoy while making her watch a trashy rom-com. 

“Honey, promise me one thing” you looked up at her.

“What’s that cutie?” She asked. 

“Don’t cook anything for our picnic” you chuckled, making her playfully roll her eyes at you. “I was going to get Wanda to whip something up” she confessed. 

“Of course you were” you replied, still giggling at her reaction.

Taglist:  @noturlondonboy | @deathbylesbianwitches | @yelenaslyubov | @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow | @boredandneedfanfics | @red1culous | @jooseboxxe | @starrycherie | @torihobby1226 | @filmedbyharkness | 

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[unicyclehippo]

Hey, Ollie, you mentioned AGES ago that Show Me the Way Home (Avatrice) had a second chapter, it just wasn't perfect yet-- do you think you'll ever post it? Or is that officially an abandoned fic?

its not abandoned, i actually did some minor editing on it the other day. the problem is that its a very seasonally locked piece in my mind & also im lazy & also a perfectionist & also i want to watch wn again before i keep writing it bc i need to rmbr what the characters are like & basically any one of those obstacles are enough to shut me right down so.

it actually is a four part story & if u want, i can share a little with u now? maybe that'll make me feel better for not posting it yet lmao

thursday 22nd december

// 6:55 //

Beatrice stood by the doorway of her apartment, phone in hand and duffel bag at her feet, and wished she was already at her parent’s holiday home. 

It wasn’t that she thought their reunion would be simple or pleasant; it was more that today had started hot and was getting hotter and her parents kept their home at a crisp twenty-three degrees at all hours of the day and night, environmental impact be damned. As the humidity clung to her, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck, Beatrice’s thoughts drifted to the crystal blue pool and the ocean wind that would blow up from the cove and she checked her phone again for any word from her driver. 

Camila’s voice travelled from the kitchen. ‘Maybe you should take the can opener with you. I mean, what if you need to open a can and you don’t have one? There might be beans. Baked beans, cannellini beans, red kidney beans.’

‘I’m sure my parents have one. They do have a kitchen. And a personal chef.’

Camila heard her. The apartment was too small for her not to have heard but she continued listing off every tinned item she could think of. 

‘Lentils, obviously. Diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes, peeled tomatoes, puréed tomatoes.’ There was a long pause. Beatrice wondered if Camila was reading the labels of what they had in the pantry; if she was, those lentils had been there for a very long time. ‘Tinned peaches.’

‘I think those come with a tab now,’ Beatrice pointed out. She kept her voice mild, not really wanting to draw Camila’s attention to her hiding place by the door. 

At some point over the last few days, the nerves buzzing under Beatrice’s skin had jumped ship and now Camila was the one pacing the confines of their apartment. She’d picked over every inch of the house in search of things Beatrice might need—which ranged from the useful, like the good phone charger she’d “found” (definitely hadn’t stolen out of her room a month ago) to what could be charitably called not useful, like the can opener—and now she stood at the end of the hall bearing the can opener and a dark frown befitting a serial killer. 

Beatrice cleared her throat. Carefully, she said, ‘I really don’t think I need it.’

Camila looked down at her weapon. ‘Oh. Right. No, sure, of course not.’ She tossed it backward into the living room; it missed the couch, landing instead on the floor with a loud thud, the sound of their rental bond being instantly halved. Beatrice winced. Camila seemed not to have noticed, though, and with her hands now empty she returned to chewing nervously at her thumb nail. She scanned the living room, hawkish, before fixing her attention on Beatrice once more. 

‘Can I help you?’

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

‘Camila…’

‘Because you don’t have to. You know that, don’t you? It’s not your only option—you could come home with me again! My parents would love it, we’d all love it, I promise. And you wouldn’t be intruding at all, I swear. The boys ask about you all the time and when you’re coming to visit again.’

‘They’re very sweet.’

‘Sweet! When they want something, sure! They’re still hoping you’ll teach them how to throw people—they bring up your match with Conner every time I call home.’

‘Tell them I’ll think about it.’

‘That can be your Christmas present for them. And Pop, he says you’re the only good one of the bunch.’

‘It’s because I don’t talk.’

‘I know. Poor guy. Christmas in a household of me’s. It’s so loud we have to mime everything for him.’

Beatrice smiled. ‘He turns off his hearing aids.’

‘What? That sneak!’

‘Don’t tell him I was the one that dobbed him in.’

‘It’ll be the very first thing I say—then you won’t be his favourite anymore and the rest of us will have a fair shot.’ Laughter shone in her eyes; it faded a little as she stared at Beatrice, gaze flicking down to the duffel at her feet. ‘I’m serious, Bea. You could call up your parents and tell them you’re not coming anymore. I’d prefer you tell them to go fuck themselves but.’ She sucked in a breath, shook her head. ‘Bea. Don’t waste your time on them. Spend your holiday with people who want you around. Who love you.’

It was a tempting offer. Of course it was.

From the day they met, Camila had been Beatrice’s friend; from the second, her sister. She’d gone out of her way to be all that a sister could be—kind, understanding, supportive, deeply irritating—and offered it all without cost. Her family was just the same. 

Beatrice remembered last Christmas fondly. The singing, the laughter, her chair squashed up to the end of the table next to Camila’s, the friendly chatter, the elbows bumping, the squabbles breaking out, the yet more guests arriving and pulling up a chair, the pass the salt, pass the butter, pass the damn water would you I’m dying over here, where’s the champagne, Arthur we don’t need another bottle of champagne it’s not even midday for Christssake, Beatrice do you want a second serve help yourself sweetheart, when do we open the presents. It had been loud, sometimes overwhelming, and wonderful all the same. 

But. 

Beatrice shook her head. 

Camila sighed. ‘I had to try, obviously.’

‘I know. Thank you.’ She set her hand on Camila’s wrist and squeezed. ‘I appreciate it, very much. Please tell them… Please tell everyone I miss them and that I’ll see them soon.’

‘You mean for your surprise birthday party?’

Beatrice smiled. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Good. Because mum’s going to need a menu from you—’

‘I thought we agreed we’d buy the food, Camila, I’m not making your mum cook for me.’

‘She likes to cook for her kids. Unless you want me to tell her you’d prefer eating a stranger’s food over hers?’ Beatrice scowled at the bold threat. ‘That’s what I thought. Pick what you want and I’ll tell her. Better yet, text her yourself.’

‘If I know your mother, she has something in mind already.’

‘More like eleven somethings.’ 

They shared an identical grin. Camila’s mother had a small habit of going overboard for parties and events. A buzz broke the moment. They both glanced down at Beatrice’s phone. 

Mr. Morris I have arrived

Beatrice Thank you. I will be there momentarily.

Beatrice nodded. This was it. She slid her phone into her pocket. ‘Mister Morris is here. I should go.’ To Camila’s suddenly stricken expression, she soothed, ‘It will be fine, Camila.’ And, because she was not completely oblivious to Camila’s concern, ‘I will be fine.’

‘I know that. Of course I know that. But I want—you don’t have to be just fine. You should be having fun. You’re my best friend, Bea, I want you to be happy.’

Beatrice paused. She struggled for a moment to think of a way to explain the purpose of this holiday to Camila, explain her purpose, in a way that she would understand and accept. 

‘It means so much,’ she began, carefully, ‘to be welcome in your family. But they will always be your family.’

‘Bea…’

‘You and they are all beyond generous.’ She held up a hand to stop Camila interrupting. ‘I know they love me, and I love them. I do love Christmas with your family. It’s always wonderful and comfortable and fun.’ She paused, considering her words. ‘But this is - this is about me,’ she admitted with difficulty, and was rewarded for the effort when Camila softened. ‘I want to go. I need to find out whether I have a place with them or not. And I’ve been so uncertain of how it might turn out that I haven’t tried. But this invitation is an opportunity. One would like to make the most of.’

Camila grabbed both of her hands and pulled her close. Very intensely, she said, ‘Okay.'

'Okay? Just like that?' Beatrice asked, doubtful.

'Yeah. I’m not going to say I understand because I don’t. It honestly makes me furious and a little bit sick to think of you going back to them. But I love you and I trust you and I want you to call me if you need anything. And whatever happens, Beatrice, you always have a place with me. Always.’

Beatrice smiled. Shifted so that she was the one holding Camila’s hands. Her friend wouldn’t let her go willingly and there was a big part of Beatrice that wanted to let herself be held tight and give in to her friend’s protectiveness, to be bundled safely up into Camila’s terrifying little car and trundling off to visit family. 

It was hard to pull free. 

Beatrice stepped back and opened the door.

‘There’s no need to fret, Camila. I’ll have Ava with me, remember?’

‘Yeah. I know. It’ll be great, you’ll see.’ The tightness around her eyes told Beatrice she didn’t quite believe her own words. ‘And you’ll call me.’

‘Every day.’

With one last hug, Beatrice picked up her bags and left. 

// 7:03 //

The town car waited for her outside the apartment. It was sleek and black, washed and polished; the only evidence of the recent storms were faint specks of grey mud deep in the tyre wells.

Beatrice stopped at the bottom of the stairs, observing the car and its driver—Mister Morris, patiently stood at the kerb—and swallowed around a lump in her throat. He looked the same as when she had left. A little more silver in his hair.

He might not have changed much but she had. Now that she was grown (or perhaps, now that she was not in that household), she found herself full of questions—where was it that Mister Morris had driven from? Where did he live? Had the storms been bad on his side of town? How had he passed the time? Had they lost power? (She and Camila had huddled in their living room—it was, Camila had insisted, the perfect weather for a marathon of gory slashers—and the rain had hammered against the windows with frightening strength but had done no damage. She knew others had not been so fortunate.) Most pressing of all, how had he been? Questions that could not be answered by hiding.

Beatrice gripped the strap of her duffel and, setting her shoulders, marched to meet him.

‘Good morning, Mister Morris.’

‘Miss Turner,’ he greeted her, his smile small but true. ‘A pleasure to see you again. How are you?’

‘Quite well, thank you.’ Then, keeping her tone light and brisk, ‘And yourself?’

‘Very well, Miss Turner. Very well.’ It looked as if he wanted to say something more but then he only smiled and cleared his throat. ‘Your luggage, Miss?’

‘I can see to it myself.’

Beatrice stashed her duffel in the boot then folded herself neatly into the backseat. Mr. Morris retook the driver’s seat. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Beatrice fixed her eyes on the headrest in front of her.

‘We have another stop to make, Mr Morris.’

‘Yes, miss. Do you have the address?’

‘I do.’ She ran a finger along the inside of her watchband, rubbing away the sweat that had gathered there. She made it a notch tighter, then loosened once more. ‘They are - That is to say, she is my—’

Mr. Morris met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. His were green and kind. The kindness did not make it easier to say.

‘She is my girlfriend.’ 

‘Yes. I know.’

‘Oh.’

‘Though your mother used slightly different terminology. Companion, I believe she said.’ He kept his eyes locked onto the rearview mirror. When Beatrice glanced into it again, he said warmly, ‘Congratulations, miss. That’s wonderful. I’m very glad to hear it.’

When she had been younger, there had been a stretch of time where running away had seemed very appealing. Each time she attempted it, Beatrice had never made it further than the park four streets from her home. She’d been too pragmatic, even at ten years old, but she’d also been stubborn so Beatrice had say there in the swing until someone noticed; whomever did notice, it was always Mr. Morris who collected her. She was reminded of it as he started the engine. The sound of its growl scared old memories out of hiding—she remembered how the plastic swing creaked, the feel of the metal chain in her little hands, how the gravel of the park entry had crunched beneath the town car tyres. How the headlights had washed over her and away with the tilt of his park and how invisible she’d felt when the lights turned off. Like a ghost haunting the playground.

Beatrice stared thoughtfully at his back, remembering how he would climb out of the car and sit next to her on a too-small swing until she’d been ready to return.

‘Thank you, Mr Morris.’

He nodded. Then, ‘I do still need her address, miss.’

‘Oh. Yes, of course.’

[oceandiagonale]

RIGHT I SHOULD UPDATE THIS BLOG WITH WHAT'S GOING ON IN MY LIFE

-got a full time job, like a legit career in my field with benefits and a pay scale that increases annually and everything!!!!

--(waiting for benefits to kick in rn though. lol. next month I'll finally get to see a dentist again yaey 💕)

-I'm verrrrrrrry tired right now BUT I've been drawing most days after work because the regular schedule has been really good for me!!!

--adjusting is really hard though!!!!!!

--My work runs on 7-to-10 week cycles and I'm starting from scratch right now. HOWEVER, once I have all of my materials ready for each cycle, I'll have to do barely anything outside of work hours because it'll all just be minor adjustments!!!!! I'm on week 2/9 right now so I'm still scrambling a bit to get everything done every week

BUT

-I swear to god I'll have the redblue wedding up on valentines day. or at LEAST the lead-up to it. 😤😤😤

-sketches of panels I'm looking forward to lining bc they're very cute:

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

oh ok

i admit i just sent in the poly bc i was on AO3 and there's like 2 fics in that tag and the vaguely purity culture vibe that had annoyed me

(and i thought it be a little funny if Danny had a Ghost Pokemon team when his parents disliked Ghost Pokemon)

so what up Jason x Danny with a Whoopsie Baby AU instead of you're still taking requests

Oh god I agree. The purity culture in all fandoms is bullshit. Like I get it I do, and I always avoid the fics where I get squicked by it in favour of the fics where they barely know each other. Also that is funny, I just never got into Pokémon. Had the first video game of it but it wasn’t my thing. You think it would be but yeah.

1. Danny and Jason are FWB. They’re both half dead heroes who are a little eldritch so it’s nice to just let off steam with one another. Except they secret have the hots for one another but don’t want to admit it. It’s a mess and both know they should break it off as it’s unhealthy but… well then Danny gets pregnant. Cause their cores want to. Fuck.

2. There is no lies and miscommunication. Danny tells Jason and confesses his feelings cause fucking once in a while is different then coparenting. Jason is 100% for it and confesses to. They are very happy together now. They begin planning right away.

3. Their families are thrilled and there are fights about best uncle or aunt. The grandparents are just all so happy. Baby! Baby fever! With eldritch bullshit including tentacles, heads turning 180 and more. It is insane but they are all so happy. And used to it really.

4. It’s triplets. Neither are that impressed and ‘birthing’ the cores that later hatch result in Danny being passed out for a few days and panicking people all around demanding answers. The answer is ‘it is how it is’. It is a sucky answer.

5. They never get married. It’s a personal choice but they don’t want to. They know there are reasons to but they pass Danny off as a trans guy and they are the parents. They’re happy. Leave them be.

[genderqueerdykes]

So uhhhhh this might be a little weird but I have memory issues and this has been bugging me for a week... I'm pretty? sure I might have blocked you on an old account when some femboy discourse stuff was going here and left your server that you had at the time? Like I did finally confirm it was you we were remembering because I know I bought a pinkie pie kandi bracelet from you off etsy (not sure if before or after the disc horse, bc we're very much a "everyone deserves to be able to survive and should not lose access to support no matter what") which for the record we love.

And like it wasn't personal, at worst we may have made a vent post at the time bc it's an identity important to us and literally no judgement whatsoever

But the reason we're even bringing it up is that we kinda feel guilty for the block even though we know it's okay to block anyone at anytime for any reason, especially since now that we saw you feel differently we're just interacting like normal and stuff

which... tbf might be trauma-related ocd from some OTHER like actually really bad internet Tumblr discourse stuff but yeah uh. I think it would help to apologize even if it's not necessary, because that's been a healthy coping mechanism for us in the past (not a compulsive one, the compulsion is more "you should never talk to them again bc you're evilbad and they don't deserve to have to interact with you") so uh, we're sorry and we think you're cool and would love to interact more and be friends (if that's not overly parasocial ahhhh x'D)

hey, that's okay, you're allowed to block people for your own safety. i don't keep track of who does and doesn't have me blocked. if someone wants to block me, that's their right, it don't take it personally. you do not have to apologize for blocking me at any point. that's not something you ever have to apologize to someone for, but i totally get why you would want to do that to give yourself some form of closure. that makes sense to me

i understand why you would've blocked over that. when i was running that server, i was friends with some very aggressive people who were adamant on policing the usage of the word femboy, so i apologize that things got so shitty about that. other staff members that were involved were very, very pushy and i ended up feeling extremely alienated from that server because i found myself disagreeing with a lot of the rules that got put into place. i especially started feeling uncomfortable because other staff members were very transandrophobic and it was causing me a lot of self hatred for being a trans man at the time. that discord server was not good for my mental health, which is why i stopped interacting with it before leaving altogether.

it took me a while to realize i did not agree with those people and that the fighting over who "gets" to use the term is so fucking petty and stupid, but i see it now and that shit was dumb. i can see why you would've been upset and left and blocked over that. at the time, plenty of people were mad about it and they had every right to be. i wasn't treating certain people right. i left that server a while back because i just got so tired of how it was being run and did not have the energy to try to rectify it due to homelessness and housing insecurity at the time. it was way too authoritarian in terms of who was allowed to identify as certain terms for me to continue to give it my stamp of approval. it was like, the exact opposite of what i wanted in a queer discord server.

thank you, though, i appreciate it. i know that this won't make the thoughts stop but you truly are allowed to block whoever you want or need to for your own safety. it's not a personal attack on them. it's a way to prevent unnecessary conflict. i fully believe in blocking when and where necessary. i block when i need to, too. but thank you so much, i appreciate it. i apologize for how shitty i was in the past about people using that term. i got pulled into the wrong crowd and i'm very glad i'm not a part of that anymore.

you're more than welcome to send a DM, and i'm glad you still like the bracelet! that must've been quite a while ago, i hope it's still holding up well! if you ever need any repairs or anything, let us know :)

[saturnservers]

okay, not to burst some bubbles, but i do LOVE kazam.. i just know it would never work out? like i love the idea of kazam... like... okay, so kazam will never be a healthy thing until kaboodle understands herself or understands how to healthily manage her feelings in regards to her lack of ... guidance? all she has is karmas law to guide her morals and actions, but that's a thing she keeps separated from her "true" self. like some omnipotent thing she can't control (she can) [more below cut... this is a YAP fest now]

and on top of that, her mistreatment (intentional or not) of zam, and even other people around her is so? like okay, lets not get upset she killed a naked jepexx, lets not be stupid, the same thing has happened to her before so she just thinks its a thing that happens, its not right but i'll defend her there.

but her interpersonal relationships really bum me out? i think lskab is vv capable of learning, and her parallel of s4 zam w eclipsefed and zam taking that role for her... like zam grew, and so could they but for now? It's understandable why people dont like lskab, because we dont even know who lskab is... like? what does she stand for? what are her morals? she could say it's karmas law and keeping the server going, but is it?

take for example, mawn. zam and kab both love spawn and want preserve it, constantly rebuilding the homes and builds there, but when mawn came around, while yes zam left bcs he didnt wanna fight mapicc, another reason is bcs zam acknowledged people LIKED mawn. they ENJOYED not dying every time they went to mawn. and zam was unwilling to take that from the server

meanwhile, kab wants to keep spawn active, so she created her own, one that actively rivals mawn not just in name but in status, in activity, in function. and she seems to behave so naively about it? she thinks no one will blow it up, but manepear isn't the only one with access to tnt, and sure, re:spawn is above mawn, but it's the same chunks? if the stone and caves below mawn are still mawn, if zams Island is still mawn, then surely, so is re:spawn? i feel like.. this wasn't thought through very well... and beyond that, it's the fact that kab keeps going, "No one, person should own spawn," but mawn belongs to flame AND mapicc... and to a certain extent? even spoke and jepexx

It's just idk... lskab doesn't think through things vv well because she has a certain belief of how people act, and she thinks they wouldn't defy their expectations. meanwhile, zam is someone who thinks and overthinks every action every word, every look he gives up. its to the point that he gives people the bod because he KNOWS them, while lskab decides to trust immediately and then despise... kab is so .... genuinely interesting?

like you either hate lskab or love her, and im like... can we acknowledge her flaws and their misguided nature while also seeing her strengths and kindness and love?? i am talking abt lstwt btw,,, vv scary rn... anyways.. shoutout kazam, i hope they go to prom together and have another falling out bcs, lskab reminds zam why he is so uncomfortable around them!

like i get so annoyed w lskabs mischaracterizations sometimes, but i love that? its so human to expect someone to behave one way and be shocked when they dont. even though i do think lskab and zam could def learn from one another, lskab holds a refreshing pov (being a new player and encouraging zam to build a place for himself [i think?!]) and zam holds very wise advice (for a new player whos going a similar path, zam is a very reliable person rn and a very loyal one too, beyond his paranoia), idk i just think they could be an awesome duo and even though theyre super toxic and fit like a dog and a cat, kazam is vv interesting and i hate that people just dont want to talk about it...

or ideally, in a perfect world shaped in my image, zam and planet go together since bacon won't take planet.... dandelion duo COME BACK PLEASEEEEEE

[the-babbering-dabber]

Ok I have thoughts and I'm gonna put em here in a clumsy outline narrative format bc i got a headache :\ :

The minute Crocodile's allowed in the room he sand drifts over to Ace's bedside because he just can't get there fast enough. Maybe Luffy was allowed visitors and obviously awake before Ace or something so he's been able to hug and hold Luffy and fuss over him. Luffy could be sleeping now, and Crocodile had fussed over the blankets and shoulders and neck and feet because "he might get cold" and "there's not enough blankets to keep his feet warm". He'd brushed his hair back until it was greasy and someone had to physically remove him so Luffy could get some rest without being stared at constantly and adjusted every two seconds.

He was sulking in the hallway when Ace was given the all-clear for visitors. He had been tempted to defy the young doctor and slip through the vents or cracks in the door if Ace's life wasn't already hanging on by a half fray-ed thread. That's the only reason Crocodile was looming over the doors to the room Ace was in. And then they opened, and Law came out. And he left the door open and unlocked. He didn't say much, just mumbled about how "there's not much more he can do" and that "it's up to Fire Fist now" and that Crocodile should "be careful with him".

Trafalgar hadn't even finished speaking before grains of sand were ripping through the stale submarine air towards his eldest son. He understood why Trafalgar had warned him, why he'd warned caution. Ace looked dead; he really did. His usually tanned skin was ashen and cracked, marred with reddish brown, purple, and black stains, some peeking out from under thick layers of bandages.

He let this happen. He was right fucking there with Ace and Luffy and he couldn't do shit. He was fine. Barely fucking scratched. And his sons...Luffy's scarred for life and had almost died and Ace...fuck, Ace was actively dying. He had died. Trafalgar had brough him back again, and again...and once more. It should be him. He's the one who should have one foot in the grave, not his child. Never his child--any of his children.

For the first time in a long time, Crocodile wished he had both hands, if only to feel for himself Ace's pulse, breath, and faint warmth--proof he was alive and here and that there was still a chance. He was exhausted himself, having no energy to cry or scream, or even raise his voice.

He looked over Ace, facing the consequences of his failure. He failed to protect them. Dragon would be furious. Sabo would...god, what would Sabo think?

An oxygen mask distorted the lower portion of his face, doing a shit job of hiding the dark, sunken circles around Ace's eyes. He looked fucking exhausted despite having been still for so long. The spatter of freckles were still dusted across Ace's skin as they'd always been, like nothing was wrong, like everything was fine and right in the world, like everything wasn't cold and dark now, like Ace wasn't fucking dying.

It's ridiculous, really, that it wasn't the blood, bandages, bruises, oxygen mask, gray skin, or sunken cheeks that breaks Crocodile, but freckles. Ace's freckles that wouldn't ever leave his skin because they were quite literally part of his body--like his ribs and lungs and fucking spine and heart and blood and bones and skin and-

Crocodile attempted a deep breath, focusing on Ace's own mechanical breathing--the breathing that somehow did better than his own pathetic stuttered gasping attempt.

Crocodile frowned as he traced Ace's features with his vision. His son's hair was a mess of wild, dirty waves and matted, greasy streaks. Didn't look like they'd even let him shower in prison, like they'd wanted his body as it would be after death--filthy, rotten, and disgusting.

He reached out his hand slowly and gently--oh so gently--brushed a strand of hair from Ace's eye. Suddenly that's all he could do, detecting another wild frizz of hair, sooty matt, or greasy wave sticking to Ace's skin. Ace would hate that. Would hate that it was tickling his face and curled in his ear and that his baby sideburns weren't straight and that his bangs weren't equally framing his face. He'd hate that his hair part was uneven and mussed, that hair was even touching his ears, that it was curled under his jaw onto his neck and tickling his shoulders, that it was sticking up above his head and staining the pillow with a black streak. He'd hate that his colics were acting up and springing his curls straight out.

Crocodile brushed strand after strand of hair away from his face, tucking them behind his ears, smoothing the sides, and swiping a loose eyelash away.

Oh god, the blankets. They weren't even covering Ace's chest, pulled down to his hips and barely covering his feet. Crocodile unfolded the scratchy blanket and brought it up to Ace's neck, covering the already blood-soaked bandages as much for his own comfort as it was for Ace's. He reluctantly moved away from Ace's shattered chest towards the end of the bed to a cover his legs and feet fully. Crocodile lingered, running his hand over each shin and rubbing circles into the soles of his feet.

Ace's feet and ankles always hurt from the scrunched crouched perches and harsh jumps he did--ever since he was little. He used to spot little scars and cuts on his feet when he first came to Crocodile, but they'd since faded and paled. But Crocodile knew they were there. He knew because he was Ace's father. His Baba. His Baba that failed him.

Crocodile took another breath and looked around for another blanket. Ace would be so cold; he needed to be warm. He couldn't get better if he wasn't warm. Without a single blanket or sheet in sight, Crocodile drug a stool over to Ace's side, perching on the uncomfortable, small metal circle. He reached his useless hook across Ace's chest and rested the first bit of skin and muscle of his arm on Ace's bicep. If there weren't any blankets here, he'd keep Ace warm himself.

Hair had been blown on Ace's skin again, dusty grains of grime marring his skin all because Crocodile looked away. He let this happen too. With the same care as before, he reached up to brush his hair away, smooth it down with gentle pets, and thumb the dirty off his cheek.

Crocodile frowned as it didn't budge, liking the pad of his thumb and rubbing at the dirty spot once more. Nothing. Trying again, this time more firmly pressing, his frown furrowed as he made no difference. Oh. It was a bruise. Tearing through his chest hadn't been enough, they had to bruise his son's face, too? His little boy? His young, barely alive, beautiful, intelligent, strong boy who had just started living his life?

Brow pinched and creased in concern, mouth tilted and tight with sorrow, Crocodile shook his head silently. It should be him. Raking his gaze over Ace's face once more, he realized the blanket had slipped. It wasn't covering his shoulders and collarbones. And the corners weren't draping over the bed, allowing drafts to slip under the pitiful cloth. The so-called blanket wasn't even tucking in around Ace. He tucked the fabric in along Ace's side, pulling the blanket up to his neck, and straightened out creases and folded corners so it would fully cover Ace's sleeping frame--not, not sleeping, dying. Ace's dying frame.

Crocodile cupped his son's cheek again, stroking his temple, brow, and cheek with his thumb. He eased his head down on Ace's shoulder lightly, careful not to press on any of his injuries. This way he could hear his heartbeat, feel his breath, and see the little puffs of air against the plastic mask.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, head resting on his baby's shoulder and hand giving the only soothing comfort he could right now, but he wouldn't be moving for a long time, not until they reached Dragon.

---------

Law leaned against the doorway, watching a father mourn a half-dead son. He'd done all he could but...only time would tell. Time and Ace's will. He arched a singular brow as the ex-warlord fussed with the blankets again, smoothing them and tucking them around Ace's shoulders exactly as they had been.

He averted his gaze as Crocodile lowered his head on Fire Fist's shoulder and cupped his son's face. It seemed too intimate of a moment to witness, like it wasn't his place to him to see. After a few moments, when Law hadn't heard anything, he peered up once more. Neither of them had moved--Ace too drugged up and body not able to support an awake brain, Crocodile frozen. No, not frozen, sleeping.

Law snagged a pen from his pocket and switched it with the father's heavy fur coat, stepping silently over to the pair.

He peeked under the blankets and checked Ace's vitals--still stable as they could be--before draping the coat over Crocodile's shoulders. He'd leave them be, they both needed their rest. Law took once last look before closing the doors. If he was certain about one thing in this world and one thing only, it was that Crocodile loved his sons more than anything or anyone in all of creation.

-----

Lol i lied have a whole ass story ig.

IM IN LOVE WITH UR LATEST ART (the on where Crocodile holds Luffy AND especially where he's with Ace)

it's very sweet and precious. I'm wondering if Crocodile fusses over him as best he can. Like I have this picture in my head of him obsessively smoothing his his from his face or fixing his blankets for the THIRD time in like fifteen minutes

and maybe when he's a little more stable, like he crawls into. bed to cradle him, idk I feel like he would fuss over him as much as he could so he wouldn't feel helpless.

and then I'm wondering...how their reunion goes after Ace wakes up? Like did he visit Ace when he was with iva and Dragon and recovering before he woke up? did he struggle to leave him? what does Luffy know? I have so many thoughts and questions and I love the stinky child au with my whole heart and soul <3

Thank you!

I love the idea of Crocodile fussing over him...! ;w; I think once Ace is stable enough Law is taking him to Momoiro where he'll either wake up or he won't. There's not much more Law can do for him.

I don't think Crocodile could bear to visit him and just watch him for months, hoping that he'll wake up. After Luffy has decided to train with Rayleigh Crocodile probably goes into the new world. He too has to keep moving, has to keep busy, can't think about his children out there in a world that is going to get more and more dangerous to them.

But when he hears that Ace woke up, he's going to travel to him right away! (I haven't drawn this reunion yet, partially because I cannot make up my mind if Ace will have lost his devil fruit and what he's going to do now. Will he join Luffy's crew? Join the Revolutionary Army? Join Cross Guild? Get a new crew? Many options...!)

And either Luffy doesn't know that Ace woke up or Dragon tells him (I assume that depending on what his devil fruit is he can fly.)

I am happy that you like the Stinky Child AU! I do too! And there are still so many things to explore in comic or fanfic form! ;A; I'm always open for ideas for this AU~

[adhd-merlin]

no one:

me: haha alright another one

[ganondoodle]

theres people that build the entire map of botw in fucking minecraft and im sitting here for the 100th time within less than a year crying bc i cant draw a line how i want

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[lazylittledragon]

i keep trying to think of funny/poetic ways to talk about all the things i'm feeling right now but i honestly can't so. i'm really sad about what happened with my partner. i know he was an inconsiderate prick about it and that i didn't do anything wrong and i couldn't have prevented it but i'm just really fucking sad.

[skrunksthatwunk]

something he can't put into words.

[teddybeartoji]

thank you everybody who crossed their fingers and toes bc aventurine AND acheron are now both safely at home:3333333333

[bowenoke]

i'm sure i am not the only one who is very concerned about the ~4 hours between when the midjourney change was made, and I knew to go opt out of it, so; glaze does not need to be on all your works to be effective. in the same way that one artist glazing all their works will ruin a broad, multi-artist dataset, glazing your works moving forward will ruin any dataset trained on you. if out of 100 comics I've posted, 10 are glazed, a dataset trained on all of my comics will not be able to make anything similar to my style. anyways. go download glaze.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 755: Departure 2

Pag 1

2: Ding ding

3: The boarding the flight number 621 to Fukuoka, departing at 10:30 will close soon

4: If you're boarding, please speak to the staff member closest to you

Pag 2

2: Ah, that guy is angry

Shh

3: Oi

4: He said “I'm coming”, right?

Yessir!! I called him thirty times but he only picked up once....

He just said “soon”....

5: Then why aren't you here, Manamii!!

Pag 3

1: There's the Inter High soon, the Inter High!! Buah!!

So-sorry, I even sent many messages, but his current location-

It's been more than thirty minutes since you've said that, how's that soon!?

Pag 4

1: “Arriving late is a crime”!!

“Causing troubles is a serious crime”!!

Yessir

We told him that, too!!

3: Alright, I put Manami's ticket there, let's go

Huh!? Next to the window!?

That's a little-

Enough

4: Let's go, Yuuto, Tobirama

This time we'll fight as five people in the Inter High

'lright

Yes

No, but, he's the captain!?

Can't be

5: Ah... this must be my ticket

Pag 5

1: Kyushu

3: Take me there, too!!

4: Waaaa, Manami-saan!!

I'm so glad you came!!

Thank you so much!!

Well...

You really are like an here who arrives in the moment of need!!

Pag 6

1: Oi, don't misunderstand!! We were the ones in a pinch and this guy was the culprit!!

Yessir!

Sorry!

Ah, you exposed me...

2: Don't think you can dodge the matter of your tardiness just with your mood and cute face!!

Ah I thought I could make it

3: So?

Why... why were you late?

4: Ahh, I forgot my passport, then I remembered and turned back to get it

5: Ohhh... that's a problem indeed...

Wait!! You don't need a passport to go to Kyushu, right!?

Pag 7

1: Woah!! That was a clever excuse, Manami-san (It was so cool!)

It wasn't clever, and now let's go!!

Did you doze off?

2: Mh...? Well, on the train... it was only one stop?

So he really slept too much...?!

3: Jou-kun and Yuzukoshi-kun went on ahead?

4: They went there with yesterday's flight

Huh!

5: So, when you said “passport”, earlier- what was it, really?

6: Did you really turned back to go get something?

7: Mhh, how should I put it

8: In order to fulfill the final promise....

Pag 8

1: “The final promise”?

It was

3: a necessary piece

4: You're still wearing that ridiculous hat, Manami?

Ah... it's the one Ashikiba-san wanted last year... (Yuuto)

This is for exclusive use during the Inter High

Ohh... “exclusive use”, cool (Tobirama)

Pag 9

2: Kyoto... Kyoto...

7: Small fries!!

Pag 10

1: Then, should we go?

Are you...

Pag 11

1: finally ready?!

2: Yes....!!

3: Mi!!

6: This year's victory will be ours

Our long-awaited victory

Pag 12

1: It's checkmate!!

2: They're coming!!

3: They're coming!! One by one, to this land of Kyushu!!

4: Won't it favour us!? It's our hometown – us, Kumamoto Daichi!!

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

sheesh speaking of psychic damage, bro is trying to kill himself with his mind here