#in fiction writing of course

[aheathen-conceivably]

God they better be living their best life in the 30s as they are in the modern au or else I will cry Alexis I'm very emotionally invested in these pixels - LGL

Oof, LGL, baby…

I, um, cannot make that promise. Mostly because the AU is sims-world gameplay vs. a sim-ified version of the real world that serves as the framework for a story, if that makes sense? So the goal of the legacy is never going to be this sort of best life experience, but to tell a somewhat realistic story in the confines of the medium (that being the sims and Tumblr).

In other words, think of the AU as vacation mode. Everything is all good in vacation mode, your worries and reality kind of cease to exist for a little while. That being said, ahem, I may have added some drama to vacation mode because I am who I am babes I cannot be tamed I cannot be stopped.

And have no fear, if you’re emotionally invested in vacation mode/our AU pixels, we’ve got quite a bit of time with them until we go back to the real world 😉

[lazylittledragon]

ok someone please correct me if i'm wrong but am i weird for thinking those 'audiobooks don't count as reading' posts are ableist as fuck????

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ excuse prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ “we were so drunk.”

²⁾ “i was trying to protect you!”

³⁾ “i never thought it would go this far.”

⁴⁾ “this wasn’t supposed to happen, i swear.”

⁵⁾ “he swore he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

⁶⁾ “you’re- you’re never around anymore!”

⁷⁾ “if i’d have waited any longer, the outcome would have been so much worse.”

⁸⁾ “you started this shit, i’m only trying to get us out of it!”

⁹⁾ “i… i just wanted the chance to prove myself to you.”

¹⁰⁾ “yeah, ‘cause you’re all such fucking saints.”

¹¹⁾ “i was handling it fine until you got involved!”

¹²⁾ “i wasn’t thinking, that’s the whole point!”

¹³⁾ “you didn’t give me any other choice.”

¹⁴⁾ “i gave you a pass when the roles were reversed, so maybe a little understanding wouldn’t kill you.”

¹⁵⁾ “if this were anyone else, you wouldn’t be riding them half as hard and you know it.”

¹⁶⁾ “you’ve been under so much pressure… i thought i could take a little of it off you by taking care of it.”

¹⁷⁾ “all i did was put my trust in the wrongs person.”

¹⁸⁾ “if you hadn’t chewed me out so damn hard for asking for your help last time, maybe i would’ve felt safe enough to do it again.”

¹⁹⁾ “do you have any idea what it feels like to be lonely in your own house? of course you don’t, because you’re never fucking here!”

²⁰⁾ “i didn’t think you’d care. nothing else ever seems to make you, so why should this!”

[kimiko24-art]

Please please I'm begging you let's explore more adult/darker themes in self shipping

[pearynice]

So Eddie, who grew up gay in Hawkins, Indiana, has probably never had anyone genuinely interested in him in his entire life. He’s pined long sufferingly, of course, on celebrities and gag athletes (that he would only admit to under pain of death) and even, embarrassingly, his classmates, but no one’s ever liked him back. There was never even a girl thrown into the mix for him to reject. There was no one.

And he got used to it. There are worse things than not being attractive, or desirable, or lacking in whatever quality made others flock to you. Did it suck? Yeah, but he’s been through worse. He has his platonic relationships who love him, who he loves in return, and it’s enough.

So color him surprised when Steve Harrington starts, what seems to be, testing the waters with him. It’s honestly a little funny, at first, because Steve is joking, because he has to be. Because people don’t like Eddie like that. Least of all Steve, who is attractive and kind and desirable and has all those things Eddie doesn’t.

But then it keeps happening. And it starts to scare him a little, because he knows that if Steve thinks he likes him, give them a date, or two, and Steve will realize he fucked up. Which. Which would be worse than it never happening at all. Because Eddie likes Steve so much it hurts. He can’t take his eyes off him, most of the time, can feel his heart flutter whenever Steve says anything- but Eddie’s made peace with who he is in this world, and he doesn’t want that to be disturbed. He’s not the type of person anyone wants to wake up to. #3 of the Munson Doctrine.

And it’s the classic it’s not you it’s me, but it really is Eddie, because he could never believe that anyone could truly like him. Not like that.

And Steve, who has had his love questioned in the past, who’s been called bullshit by Nancy and has never been enough for anyone besides Robin, falls apart a little. He thought Eddie was different. He thought he was reading the signs right and that Eddie liked him back. But he’d been wrong before and he’s wrong now and it’s all just too much. He locks himself in his room and directs all of his sadness inwards, like his parents taught him to.

And Robin, in all her righteous fury, goes to Eddie and screams herself hoarse because she knows Eddie likes Steve, she isn’t blind, but Eddie’s so flippant about the entire thing Robin wants to kill him. Because this is her best friend- her platonic soulmate- and Steve deserves whoever he wants.

And then Eddie says something very sad that takes the wind out of her sails. Something like “Robin, I’m not the kind of guy anyone would ever want to wake up to. I’ve accepted that.”

And Robin of course knows what it’s like to be queer and alone and in Hawkins, so she doesn’t murder him, even though she still kind of wants to. She gives him a hug, instead of stealing Nancy’s gun and killing him, and asks him if he trusts Steve.

Which. Eddie does trust Steve. If he trusts anyone in this world, he trusts Wayne, the Hellfire club, and Steve. And the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. And he’s so, so scared. But he goes straight to Steve’s house and pours his pathetic little heart all over Steve’s front porch, tells him he’s never thought himself worthy of love, that Steve is the first, ever, as mortifyingly embarrassing as that is, to ever want him. And how it took him some time to wrap his head around the fact that his crush likes him back. And that he’s so sorry. That Steve is enough in every sense of the word. And that Eddie just couldn’t accept that someone liked him.

And Steve is just like??? “Your crush?”

And Eddie’s like “ofc you’re my crush are you kidding me? Have you met yourself?”

And after that they’re gone for each other.

And it takes Eddie a while to trust himself- to trust himself to be worthy of the type of affection that pours from his boyfriend. But he trusts Steve- with every fiber of his being, he does, so eventually he gains his footing and is able to see himself as lovable and loving.

Robin kicks herself everyday for interfering because they’re so disgusting but also Steve is so happy, and Robin would do anything and put up with anything for Steve to be able to smile like that.

[lumiolivier]

Treasures and Tragedies

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 7476

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

It's Crocodile's week to have you all to himself. It's getting to the end of the week...and you feel more like it's getting to the end of your life...

You wanted to hide.  It wasn’t often you wanted to hide away from your boys, but today was a day to hide.  You were up in the middle of the night while Crocodile kept an arm around you, making sure his hook was out for the world to see.  Just in case someone were to make their final mistake.  And you knew then something wasn’t right.  Something didn’t feel right.  Any other night, Crocodile would have you drenched in sweat.  The man was a space heater.  Of everyone you slept with on a regular basis, you didn’t need much for blankets with Crocodile.  But that was the thing.  You couldn’t get warm to save your life.

You carefully slipped out of Crocodile’s grasp and made your way toward the bathroom.  If he asked, you got up to pee.  Nothing to bring attention to yourself.  Nothing he would ask questions about.  Everything would be fine.  But when you got to the bathroom, you gripped onto the sink for dear life.  Your short walk from the bed to the bathroom was enough to turn your legs to jelly.  And if that wasn’t enough to turn your already not great stomach, the room decided to start moving on its own, too.  You knew it.  Deep down in your heart, you knew.  You were getting sick.

And in your throat.  And your lungs.  And anything else that decided to reject its existence.  If it could hurt, it did.  And it was utter hell.  But not nearly as much hell as you’d be in if the men in your life were to find out.  As much as it’d suck, you dragged yourself down the hall to your room, leaving Crocodile alone in the bed you both once shared.  That’s when you finally felt safe.  And proceeded to violently throw up in your own bathroom.  After you were done, you violently shook on the cold ceramic.  Your chills made your back tighten up and in that moment, you wished for the sweet release of death.

“I do not envy you…”

You jumped at the unexpected voice floating above you, “Perona, what the hell are you doing in here?”

“You think I didn’t hear you yakking in here?” Perona perched herself on the edge of your bathtub, “How are you sick?  Don’t the boys keep you wickedly healthy?”

“Mostly,” you gently nodded, “But regardless of how great my immune system is, even I can still get sick.”

“Poor baby…” Perona put a hand to your back, “You need to get back to bed?”

“Mmhm…”

“Here,” Perona helped you onto your feet and held you steady while you shuffled back to bed, “You want me to wake Mi-”

“No!” you pleaded, a few coughs escaping your throat, “Perona, no.  Please.  I know your heart is in the right place, but please.  Don’t tell anyone I’m sick.  Don’t tell Mihawk.  Don’t tell Buggy.  Don’t tell Crocodile.  Just keep this between us.  As far as you know, I caught my period before I could stain the sheets, so I just came in here.  All I need is to get some sleep.  The more I can get, the quicker I’ll get better.  I do not need to have the boys hovering over me and treating me like I’m going to break if they look at me cross eyed.  I don’t need that.  Please, Perona, if you love me even a little bit, you’ll keep your mouth shut about me being sick.”

“I won’t say a word,” Perona promised, “But you know how they are with you.  Someone’s bound to find out eventually.  Even when you’re not sick, they’re up your ass in some way.”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, “I know.  But they’re going to have to not be clingy with me today.  Just let me get back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Perona let it go, “Is there anything I can get for you?  Do you need anything?”

“I’ll be alright,” you crawled into your bed and got comfortable.  As much as you could at that point, “But thank you, Perona.  If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright,” Perona left you alone to get your rest. 

And as much as you trusted her, you had a feeling she was going to say something to someone.  To the wrong person.  And you were going to end up having someone on your ass about being sick.  But you shut your eyes and left that to be a problem for future you.  For now, you were going back to sleep.  And praying to all things holy and unholy that once you were awake, you would feel a million times better and this was just a weird dream.

When you started to come to again, you heard assorted chatter at your bedside.  And a cool washcloth on your forehead.  You didn’t remember putting that there last night.  Not when you fell asleep almost immediately after your head hit the pillows.  But you had to retrace your steps.  You had your conversation with Perona.  You felt like you were going to die.  You were miserable and frozen, but you were appropriately wrapped up in blankets.  Nowhere in there did you remember putting anything to your forehead.  Nor do you remember inviting company.

“And she wakes…” The second your eyes opened, you knew you were screwed, “Good morning, Princess.”

“Mmm…” you sunk down into your blanket cocoon, the sun shining far too brightly from the window.

“You don’t ever wake up before I do,” Crocodile’s hook ran down your cheek, “And on the off chance you do, you don’t ever come in here.  Which begs the question…”

“What brought you in here, darling?” Not only were you screwed, but you were double screwed.

“I…” your voice gave you away.  You couldn’t write this off on a period.  That didn’t mean you weren’t going to try, “I got my period last night.  And I came in here.”

“You don’t get your period until the end of my week, doll.” Scratch that.  You were triple screwed.

“So,” Crocodile thought, “Other than that fever of yours, what brings you into your room?”

“I’m not running a fever,” you lied through your teeth, “It’s just freezing in here.”

“No,” Mihawk swapped out your washcloth, “Try again.”

“Alright.” Because you didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore, “I came in here last night.  I threw up a bunch.  I went back to bed.  Happy?”

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Buggy sat on your bed, “No.  Not at all.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, YN?” Crocodile asked, “At the very least, me.  Hell, I was right there.”

“Because I knew this would happen,” you brushed them all off, “Because I knew you three would blow it out of proportion and, cough, cough, I don’t need that.”

“We’ve never blown anything out of proportion when it comes to you, treasure,” Mihawk cradled your cheek in his palm, “And you’re staying right here until you’re better.  If we have to, we’ll be the ones to make sure you get that way.”

“He’s right,” Buggy agreed, “You’re precious to us, too.  You’re falling apart at the seams, doll.  We can take care of you, too.”

And that’s what worried you.  But you’d be lying if you said your boys coming together for your sake didn’t warm your heart a little bit, “Alright.  I’m not going to fight it.  But you three have to make me a promise right here, right now.”

“Anything, Princess,” Crocodile insisted, “What do you need?”

“You don’t hover,” you ordered, “I know you three are going to try and give me the world and it’s only going to wreck yourselves in the process.  It’s not worth it.  Got it?”

The three of them shared a glance that always put a knot in your stomach.  You weren’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but you knew that look.  Deliberation amongst the three of them.  You always thought they could read each other’s minds, but it was scarier yet.  They read each other’s faces.  They could have a full conversation without you hearing a word out of any of their mouths.  But they did eventually come to an agreement.

“Alright, YN,” Mihawk nodded, “Understood.  But we have demands of our own, too.”

“Come on, Mihawk…” you whined, stirring up another bout of coughing, “I’m sick.  Aren’t I the one who gets to be making those demands?”

“In this case, no,” Mihawk put his foot down, “We’re essentially the only doctors you have here, darling.  If there’s anything we decide you need, you’re getting it.  Whether you want it yourself or not.  Can we all agree to that?”

“Mmmm…” you groaned, burying yourself deeper in your blankets.

“Buggy,” Crocodile ordered, “Go call a supply ship and make an order.  You know what we need.”

“On it,” Buggy left a little kiss on your forehead and took off for the office. 

“Mihawk,” Crocodile began his declarations, but he was quickly shut down with one look from Mihawk.  He knew better than to bark orders at Mihawk.  He wasn’t overly thrilled about it, but he understood.  Regardless of the Cross Guild setting up shop here, it was still Mihawk’s house.  Crocodile didn’t respect many people in this world, but he could respect Mihawk, a fellow warlord who more than earned his station.  And if not for that fact, it was because of you.  Seeing the respect and admiration you had for Mihawk made it contagious.  The only thing Crocodile didn’t respect was the furniture.

“You need me for something, Crocodile?” Mihawk asked, not a drop of condescension in his tone.  Because that respect was mutual.  No matter how much they may occasionally bicker.  Besides, that’s what they had Buggy for.  Buggy was where their irritations went. 

“No,” Crocodile shook his head, “We’ll let YN get some more rest.  I’ll take the first shift with her.  Go ahead and do what you need to.  If anything at all.”

“Thank you for your permission,” Mihawk retorted, already on his way out.  But not before leaving you with a soft little kiss on your forehead, “If you need anything, darling, don’t hesitate to ask.  Any of us.”

“Thank you, Mihawk…” you shut your eyes for a moment or two before you were right back to sleep.  But you knew something was going to happen.  There was no way you were going to be left alone for the day.  You weren’t going to get that lucky. 

Still, you felt like you were dying.  So, what if your boys felt like doting on you a little bit?  That was their prerogative.  And even though it got under your skin, it was nice to know someone cared.  It was nice to have several someones care.  And you loved them for it.  And if it wasn’t obvious before, they loved you, too.  More than anything in the world.  And it would show no more than when you were sick.

A little later in the day, when you woke up from your first nap, you felt another wave of nausea hit you.  And it hit hard.  When you opened your eyes, you noticed Crocodile taking a nap in your chair.  A cup of tea sat on your nightstand, but things were about to get messy.  As much as you wanted a drink from that tea (that was likely still a little warm), you went straight to your bathroom and proceeded with another round of violent retching that, much like it had earlier that morning, left you shaking again.

“YN?” And you may have woken up Crocodile in the process, “You ok, Princess?”

“Do I look like I’m ok?” you glared up at him from the floor, your head resting on the toilet seat.

“I asked a question,” Crocodile’s tone shifted, “I didn’t ask for you to snap at me.”

“Crocodile,” you sighed out, “Sweetheart, I love you.  You know I do.  But right now, I am not going to be sunshine and lollipops.  Do forgive me.”

“I know, I know,” Crocodile scooped you up into his arms.  And you reveled in his warmth, his strength.  You wanted nothing more than just a little time with Crocodile.  Just to be close.  If this is what it meant every time you were to go throw up, then so be it.  When he put you back down in your bed, he noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks, “What’s that all about?”

“What?” your voice broke.  Was it because you were just throwing up or was it something else?  You hardly realized you were crying.

“No…” Crocodile sat on your bed and let you curl back up in his arms, “No, no, no…What’s the matter, YN?”

“I don’t know…” you wept.  Even though you were perfectly aware.  You didn’t want Crocodile to go.  You didn’t want him to go back to your chair.  You wanted him right there.  You wanted him to be within arm’s reach.  You wanted him to be around you.  And just the thought of him walking out of the room kicked your tears up even worse.  Which only made your coughing even worse than that.

“Must be your fever,” Crocodile put a hand to your forehead, “Still kind of high.  But I think it’s breaking.  We’ll call that a win.”

“Please,” you clung to him, your tears soaking through his shirt, “Don’t go.  Please…Don’t leave me.”

“Shh…” Crocodile ran his hand through your hair and down your back, “Don’t you worry, Princess.  I’m not going anywhere.  I got you.  But you’re due for another round of medicine soon.  And you know what that means?”

“Hmm?”

“That means I’m going to hand you off to either Buggy or Mihawk,” Crocodile gently broke the news to you, “I’m not saying I’m leaving right now, but someone’s going to have to handle the supply ship when it comes in.”

“But you said I had medicine,” you remembered, “I thought we were out this morning.”

“That was this morning,” Crocodile pointed out, “YN, you’ve been out for a while.  We’ve had a supply ship come in already.  We’re waiting on another one.  There were some things we forgot the first time around.  I’ll take care of that one.  You’ll be alright with someone else.  I’m not sure who won that game of rock, paper, scissors, but you won’t be alone.  I promise.  Ok?”

“Ok.” You loved Buggy.  You loved Mihawk.  But right now, there’s no one you wanted more than Crocodile.

“It’s alright,” Crocodile assured you, “I’ll be back.  And if you need me, all you have to do is yell for me.  Ok?  You know I’ll come running.”

“Thank you,” you nestled your tear stained face into Crocodile’s ribs. 

“Of course, Princess,” Crocodile held you close, “Of course, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“Crocodile,” Mihawk stood in the doorway with a pair of tablets in his hands and a glass of water, “Buggy’s looking for his fishnets, so I have YN’s medicine.  I’ll take the next shift.”

“She’s a little clingy, Mihawk,” Crocodile wasn’t letting you go, “I appreciate you bringing her medicine, but I don’t think she’s going to let me go anywhere.”

“If that’s the case,” Mihawk put your water and medicine down on the nightstand got in your bed on the other side of you, “I guess I’ll just have to be here, too.”

“I got her, Mihawk,” Crocodile kept his arm around you, “Go ahead and do whatever.  I’m sure your protégé is looking for you for yet another futile sparring match.”

“No,” Mihawk pushed your matted hair out of your face, “He left a few days ago.  I’m surprised you didn’t get your own licks in.”

“With the rest of the Straw Hats here?” Crocodile laughed, “No.  I don’t have a death wish.  And I’m sure if I even thought about going near their captain, your son, but not your son would be the first to drive the nail in my coffin.”

“Hey, guys?” you spoke weakly, hoping to break up the potential fight brewing between them, “Can we not talk about dying when I actually feel like I’m dying?  That’d be wonderful.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk left a little kiss on top of your head, “We didn’t upset you, did we?”

“No,” you let a few coughs out, “But I really do feel like shit.  And I’d rather you two didn’t try to kill each other in my bed.”

“Alright,” Crocodile let it go, “But truly, Mihawk, go.  I have her handled.”

“Fine,” Mihawk got up from your bed, “If you need anything, YN, you know where to find me.”

“And I’ll probably send Crocodile to find you,” you giggled a little, “Because there’s no way in hell either one of you are going to let me get up for anything other than the bathroom.  And even that’s iffy.”

“Get some rest, darling,” Mihawk covered you up a little more, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you cracked a little smile and curled back up with Crocodile.  And you shut your eyes again.

But that’s when the medicine kicked in.  And your fever started to take hold of your brain and put it in a paint shaker.  When you shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your brain turned into colors.  Swirling shades of blues and greens and shades of gray only to have them fade into pinks and yellows and all the pretty colors of the sunset.  And you were perfectly content.  Until it turned.

Your beautiful, cold medicine and fever concoction turned violent.  The sunset went away and turned into black and red.  And an empty room with a cold, cement floor and red splatters all over the place.  You looked around the room and found a heavy chain around your wrist.  All while you noticed dead bodies on the floor still twitching.  A voice echoed through the room.  Your fault.  Your fault.  Your fault.  And it only got louder and louder until you finally realized who those bodies were.  And how you were soaked to the bone in blood that was not your own. 

“YN…” you felt your body shake, “YN, wake up…”

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest when your eyes opened back up.  Thankfully, still living and breathing, Crocodile held you tight, doing his best to get you to calm down.  But when you looked up at him, you felt the tears pouring out of your eyes, “Crocodile…You’re ok…”

“Of course, I am, Princess,” Crocodile pinned you to his chest and let you cry it out, “Of course, I am.  I’m not going anywhere.  You know that.  I’ve already shooed off Mihawk and Buggy and Perona today.  I told you before you fell asleep.  I am not going anywhere.  What happened?”

“I…” you wept, “I…I killed you…And Mihawk and Buggy.  Everything was so nice, but then…”

“Shhh…” Crocodile cradled you in his arms, making sure nothing could get to you ever again, “It’s alright, YN.  It’s alright.  It’s all over now.  You just had a little nightmare.  It’s ok.  It’s all done.  I promise.”

“I hate it,” you snarled, “I fucking hate it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Crocodile settled you, “But it’s done now.  You don’t have to think about it anymore.  I know you’d never kill me.  You know you’d never kill me.  It’s ok.  I forgive you.”

“Really…?” your bloodshot eyes looked up at one of the men you loved more than anything and held so dear and most definitely didn’t want dead.

“Really,” Crocodile let you get comfortable in his shoulder, “You know, YN…It’s been a while since I held anyone like this.”

“When was the last time?” you wondered, not really seeing Crocodile as much of the cuddly type.  Except when you were involved.

“If we can keep it between us,” Crocodile began.

“Of course,” you swore.

“I had a baby like this,” Crocodile sighed out, getting lost in a nostalgic haze, “He was sick at the time, too.  His father was out looking for medicine, but there wasn’t much where we were at the time, so he had to go on an honest journey for the sake of finding a doctor who could get us some.  And he cried so much.  He hurt so much.  And of course, he didn’t fully understand what was going on, so that just made it worse.  And there was nothing more I could do.  Broke my heart to hear him scream like that.  But he did get better.”

“What happened to the baby?” you asked, nestling further into Crocodile’s embrace.

“He ended up going to live with his grandfather for a while.  And I didn’t see him for a long time until he popped up in Alabasta.  He doesn’t know how well connected we are, but…” You saw a strange sadness fall over Crocodile’s face.  Only for him to snap back into taking care of you mode, “That was a long time ago.  And nothing you need to worry about.  Just go back to sleep, ok, Princess?  We need to get you better.”

“And I will get better,” you cuddled into him, letting him know that with as much as he’s there for you, you’re there for him, too, “That’s what I got you for.”

“That’s right…” You didn’t know it, but you might have made Crocodile’s day with that statement, “Now, get some sleep or your next round of medicine is going in you as a suppository.”

“So demanding,” you giggled deliriously, “Maybe I want it that way.”

“You are a special kind of freak, YN,” Crocodile hugged you tight, “Just get some sleep.  Ok?”

“Okie dokie…” your delirium took over.  And then, your delirium took you under. 

When you started to come to a little while later, you felt yourself in someone else’s arms.  That was not Crocodile anymore.  And your heart immediately started racing.  Not only were you moved, but Crocodile was no longer there.  You thrashed and freaked until you realized the sound around you.  Splashing.  Water.  Bathroom.  Bathtub?  Bathtub.  Bathroom.  Your bathroom.  The same place you had thrown up earlier that morning.  What were you doing there?

“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk cradled you in his chest, “It’s alright.  We didn’t want you slipping into the water and you had thrown up on yourself earlier.  You’re ok.”

Your heartrate started to settle and you became much more acutely aware of the horrendous taste in your mouth.  It was ok.  Everything was ok.  And yet, you had one question burning in your mind, “Where’s Crocodile?”

“Taking care of your sheets,” Mihawk told you, “I’m hoping this bath breaks your fever a little, too.  It’s almost there.  We just need it to drop another degree or two.”

“Ok…” You weren’t upset to be held by Mihawk.  But you missed Crocodile’s warmth around you.  You missed the softness.  You missed the tender way he held you…

“YN…?” Speak of the devil, Crocodile poked his head into your bathroom, “I thought I heard your voice in here.”

“I’m here…” you replied weakly, “Sorry for throwing up on you.”

“No need for that, Princess,” Crocodile brushed it off, “You didn’t even throw up on me.  Your bedding can’t say the same, but it’ll be alright.  That can be washed.  You can be washed.  And I’m sure Mihawk’s more than accommodated you in that respect.  Hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he has,” Mihawk nodded, “And everything has been entirely pure and innocent, Crocodile.  I’m not breaking any rules here.  She’s sick.  We’re taking care of her.”

“Everyone except Buggy,” Crocodile pointed out.

“Where is Buggy?” you wondered.

“I’m surprised he was with you as long as he was this morning,” Crocodile admitted, “The guy’s got a thing about germs and getting sick.  It’s the performer in him.”

“I think that’s the first time you called him a performer,” you giggled, letting a few coughs out, “instead of a narcissist.”

“Is he not a little full of himself?” Mihawk scoffed, “Come on, YN.  You know him, too.”

“Just a little,” you shut your eyes again, “But that’s ok.  I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

“Really?” Mihawk looked at you like you were on drugs.  But in your defense, you kind of were.

“Mmhm…”

“You’re delirious, Princess,” Crocodile got a towel for you and scooped you out of the water, “Come here.  Let’s get you back to bed.  As much as I love seeing you hot, wet, and naked, this isn’t the right context.”

“Love you, too, Crocy…” you rolled into the towel and got comfortable right where you belonged. 

Crocodile gave a grateful nod to Mihawk, who had to get his own towel.  Crocodile was a sweetheart to you.  But you were also you, “Crocodile?”

“What?” Crocodile turned on his heel.

“I know you’re going to bring her back to bed,” Mihawk thought, “But pray tell, which bed are you putting her in?  I’m sure hers hasn’t been properly cleaned yet.  And if it has, there’s no way it’s dry.”

“I have it all taken care of, Mihawk,” Crocodile rolled his eyes, “You think I don’t know how to take care of YN when she’s sick?  Or anyone for that matter?  I did it with him.  I’ll do it with her, too.”

Mihawk looked at Crocodile strangely, “Him who, Crocodile?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Crocodile kept a tight lip as he brought you back to your room.  However, you weren’t going to your bed.  Because as Mihawk suggested, there was still a wet spot on the edge of your bed where you were presumably laying when the incident went down.  No, no.  You were brought into Crocodile’s bed.  But you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Crocodile,” you spoke softly, “Why are we here?”

“I’m not putting you back in your bed,” Crocodile gently lowered you back down to the mattress, “It’s still a little wet.”

“But what about you?” you wondered, “I don’t want you getting sick, too.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Princess,” Crocodile settled you, tucking you in his massive bed, “You just need to worry about getting better.  And even that, we have taken care of.  I’m going to get you a t-shirt, ok?”

“Ok.” You always did love sleeping in Crocodile’s t-shirts.  You always drowned in them and made you feel little and dainty.  Much like sleeping with Crocodile did.  He babied you.  And you weren’t mad about it.

“Here, sweetheart,” Crocodile came back with a gray t-shirt just for you and helped you in it, “Go back to sleep, ok?  I’ll go get your medicine and when I get back, you’re taking it.  Got it?”

“Yes, sir…” you gave him a little fake pout as you nestled down in his bed.  And after you popped your next round of medicine, you were back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms. 

**********

“Thank you for coming.  I know it was short notice.”

“Of course.  I have an obligation to help those who need it.  And clearly, she’s been in rough shape.”

“We’ve been doing all we can for her, but it feels like she’s not getting any better.”

“Well, she’s not running a fever anymore, so we can chalk that up as a win.”

Slowly, but surely, you opened your eyes when you felt a foreign pair of hands on your chest, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Excuse me?” the man stared you down, not sure if he wanted to cure you or kill you.  But then, you got a better look at him.  And for a brief moment, you forgot you were already in a committed relationship with three other men.  He was pretty…

“It’s alright, YN,” Mihawk assured you, sitting at your bedside with Crocodile, “I called for a doctor.  He showed up.  And he’s damn good at what he does.”

You knew those knuckles.  You’ve heard stories about those knuckles.  The word death tattooed across them.  And in your current condition, that wasn’t exactly comforting, “Trafalgar Law…”

“That’s me,” he nodded, “Look, I have some medicine on the ship.  By the looks of things, she just caught a tinge of the flu.  She’ll make it, but for the sake of nipping it in the bud, I’ll give her something.  Unfortunately, the quickest way for it to get through her system is intravenously.  Is that something we’re all good with?”

“Yes,” Mihawk agreed.

“Yes,” Crocodile wasn’t much different.

“Hold on.” You, on the other hand, weren’t exactly a fan of the word intravenous.  Intravenous meant needles.  Needles meant pain.  Pain meant you having a not good day.  And you were already miserable.

“No,” Crocodile took your hand, “I know it’s not going to be pleasant, YN, but it’s the quickest way to get you better.  If we agree to this, how long until she’d be a hundred percent again?”

“With a decent night’s sleep?” Law thought it over, “She’d probably be better by the morning.  Completely.  That doesn’t mean she won’t be still a little contagious.  So, I’d suggest the two of you still exercise caution around her.  While I’m getting her meds ready, I can set you both up with a heavy duty round of vitamin C.”

“If it means still being able to sleep with her tonight,” Crocodile thought, “It’s worth it.  Misery doesn’t ever mind a little bit of company, does it?”

“Nope,” you cuddled into Crocodile’s side, “Thank you…”

“I probably should, too, then,” Mihawk sighed out, taking your hand, “Besides, it’s, what, one little tablet?”

“If only,” Law started heading out of Crocodile’s bedroom, “So, that’s a round of peramivir for you and two bags of vitamin C.  A boring day of work, but they can’t all be a bloodbath.”

“Wait a second,” Mihawk started to piece things together, “Did I just sign up for needles, too?”

“You sure did,” Crocodile smirked, “What’s the matter, Mihawk?  Not a fan of needles?”

“I’m concerned for anyone who says they are,” Mihawk admitted, “But yes.  I might not be the biggest fan of needles.”

“Me either,” you took Mihawk’s hand.  Because even in your state, you weren’t going to stoop to Crocodile’s level.  They didn’t have to love each other, but they loved you more than anything, “But we’ll be alright…If it means me getting better and you and Crocodile not getting sick, we’ll get through it.”

“Then,” Mihawk suggested, “Shouldn’t we get Buggy involved, too?”

“No way in hell!” Buggy yelled down the hall, “You two were dumb enough to stick around!  I don’t need that!”

“There it is,” Crocodile found Buggy’s ear sitting behind the cigar box on his dresser.  He held it up to his mouth and let out a guttural growl, “Listen well, clown.  You ever bug my bedroom again and we will have a problem.  Do we understand?”

“Crocy…Baby…” Buggy got defensive, sending his mouth your way, too, “I wasn’t bugging your bedroom, per se.  I was worried about YN, too.  I just wanted to hear what the doctor had to say, too.”

“Then, get your ass in here…” Crocodile winged Buggy’s ear out the door, “Fucking clown…Why do we put up with him?”

But then, you saw a pair of cheeks fly into Crocodile’s room.  And you immediately knew what they were.  It made you laugh, but your laughter made you cough.  Still, it was enough to put a smile on your face.  And that’s all that mattered.  However, Crocodile and Mihawk weren’t nearly as amused as you were.  That didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate the sweet sound of your laughter.

“Buggy,” Mihawk held his face in his hands, “If you sent your literal ass into this room, my foot is about to go into it.”

“Are you threatening me with a good time, hawk eyes…?”

“Buggy!”

“Alright, alright!” Buggy retracted his floating hiney and let those sleeping dogs lie.

Although, when Law walked back in, he couldn’t help but scratch his head, “Did I just see a floating ass in the hallway?”

“We call her Perona,” you joked a bit, “Unless you were talking about Buggy’s ass.  Then, yes, you did.”

“Anyway,” Law just chalked it up to casual stupidity and held three bags in his hand and a few drip stands, “I need three arms out.”

“You mean, you need YN’s arm out,” Mihawk corrected him, “Right?”

“No,” Law shook his head, already prepping your arm for the IV, “I mean, I need three arms out.  Because once I got hers in, you two are getting it, too.”

“And,” Mihawk hoped, “You really don’t have it in some kind of pill form?”

“Not this strength,” Law told him, “The amount you two need is in these bags.”

“I can’t believe it,” Crocodile teased, “You’re really afraid of needles.”

“I’m human,” Mihawk snapped a bit, “Even I have fears and weaknesses…Just happens to be needles.  Fuck off, Crocodile.  No one asked you.”

“Are you going to be ok, YN?” Law asked, tuning the others out.

“Mmhm.” You weren’t thrilled about it either, but if it meant you getting better, then so be it.  You’d suck it up for just a moment or two.

“Are you sure?” Law kept your eye contact, “Because I know these aren’t always pleasant.”

“I don’t want to meet the person that finds genuine enjoyment in getting administered IVs,” you chuckled to yourself.

“Why’s that?” Law glanced over at Crocodile, knowing he was the rock in the room.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you admitted, “I’m no stranger to enjoying a little bit of pain from time to time, but it has to be in the right context.  It has to be cough, cough just the right amount.  There has to be an exit.”

“So,” Law assumed, “You’re into that sort of thing?  Because it sounds like you’ve experienced it a time or two before.”

“Look who I’m sitting between,” you rolled your eyes, “Two of the biggest sadists I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.  Of course, we’ve played around with pain before.”

“And would you look at that?” Law cracked a little smirk, “You’re already a quarter of the way through your bag.  Didn’t feel a thing, did you?”

“What?” you looked down at the needle stuck in your arm and the tube attached to the needle, “When did you do that?”

“Around the time you said you didn’t want to meet the sick weirdo that was into getting IVs,” Law pointed out, “I’ve worked with little kids before, YN.  I know how to distract better than anyone.  I bet I could keep Mihawk from passing out, too.”

“Really?”

“Really?��� Mihawk rolled his eyes, “I don’t pass out.”

“Uh-huh,” Law scoffed, “You were just talking about how you had a fear of needles.”

“And?” Mihawk’s tirade continued, “What does that have to do with anything?  It’s like I said.  I’m human.  What?  Am I not allowed to have fears now?  Just because I’m a big, scary warlord means I’m somehow no longer allowed to have emotion?  Fine.  Then, I guess I’ll just sit here and be a stone.  I’m sorry, YN.  I can no longer love you.  And I can no longer get pissed when Crocodile puts scorch marks in my furniture.  And unfortunately, I also can’t draw delight from whenever you punt Buggy’s head down the hallway.”

“But you can shut up and take your vitamin C drip,” Law brushed him off, turning the nozzle on Mihawk’s bag, “I told you so.”

“What?” Mihawk finally realized there was something in his arm.  There was an IV in his arm.  There was a needle stuck in his arm.  And his vision started to go white, “See?  I told…I told you…”

And there he went.  His head flopped onto your shoulder while the vitamin C drip ran through his body.  And of course, Crocodile couldn’t leave that alone, “And I told you so.  How do you do that, Law?”

“I hold a little conversation,” Law explained, “Get someone going on a rant, they’re not going to give a shit about anything else that’s going on around them.  Easy.”

“Did you just treat me like a toddler?!” Mihawk clutched his chest.

“Are you throwing a tantrum like a toddler?” Law wasn’t dealing with it.  He was already out of his way.  He didn’t need to also deal with Mihawk pitching a fit, “Because if I wanted to deal with tantrums, I would’ve stayed with Doflamingo.”

“Maybe I should tell Doflamingo about this,” Mihawk threatened.

“But let’s be honest,” Law jabbed the needle in Crocodile’s arm.  Crocodile, who sat perfectly still and hardly flinched, “Do you really want to deal with Doflamingo?”

“I mean…” Mihawk admitted, “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t fun to be a little catty with at World Government meetings.  But that’s as far as I really wanted to go with him.”

“You and me both,” Crocodile agreed.

“Now,” Law looked over at your bag that was sucked dry and gently pulled the needle out of your arm, “You’re going to get some more sleep.  By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, you should be alright again.  If you’re not, I’ll come back.”

“Ok,” you got comfortable again, “And since they’re both juiced up on vitamin C, does that mean I can still sleep with Crocodile tonight?”

“Are you serious?” Law stared blankly at you, “You’re still going to have sex with Crocodile in your condition?  Damn, YN.  I’m not sure if I’m impressed by your stamina or appalled at your stupidity.”

“No,” you held your face in your hands, “I meant sleep.  I’m not used to sleeping without another warm body in my bed.  I’d rather not do that.”

“Oh,” Law let it go, “Personally, I wouldn’t advise it, but if it’s alright with all involved, then go for it.  At your own risk.”

“Ok…”

“But…” Law chuckled to himself while Mihawk slumped down after his needle got pulled out, “I think you might need to make room in the bed for Mihawk, too.”

“Not a chance,” Crocodile shot that down immediately, “It’s my week.  Mihawk can wait his turn.  Mihawk, wake the fuck up and get out of my bed.”

Nothing.

“Looks like he’s done,” Law shook it off, “Crocodile, give me your arm.  You’re done, too.”

“The shit I do for you, YN,” Crocodile watched Law pull his needle out.

“Thank you…” And you love him for it, “Thank you, Law.”

“You’re welcome,” Law grabbed his things, “I suggest putting Mihawk somewhere comfortable.”

“That isn’t here,” Crocodile added, scooping Mihawk into his arms, “YN, I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Ok,” you could already feel your eyes getting a little heavier.  All you wanted now was some sleep.  And the fact that you had that pretty doctor taking care of you didn’t hurt. 

“Knock, knock…” Although, while Crocodile was busy putting Mihawk to bed, you had a special visitor, “How you feeling, doll?”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smiled a bit, “Well, I still feel like shit, but I think I’ll make it.  Full recovery.”

“That’s good to hear,” Buggy wasn’t moving from the doorway.  It’s not that he didn’t want to get close to you, but he also didn’t want to get close to you, “So, what are we thinking?  Are you going to be ok by next week?”

“I should be fine by tomorrow,” you assured him, “Don’t worry, Buggy.  I won’t be sick next week.”

“Because,” Buggy sent his hand out to you, gently caressing your cheek, “I have a few new toys in my room that I want us to try out.  And I want you to feel up to it.  Got it?”

“I will,” you promised, “I’ll be fine.”

“Good girl,” Buggy brought his hand back, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take an excruciatingly hot shower.”

“I understand.” Never did you expect Buggy to be the one with a germ thing, but you weren’t going to fault him much for it.  Instead, you decided to shut your eyes.  Just for a moment or two.  You wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost sleep you being sick has caused.  But alas…You still couldn’t get that lucky.

“So, are you dead?” And Perona never really had much for tact.

“I’m not dead,” you groaned, “I’m just tired, Perona.  And in my own special hell.  Can I go to sleep yet?”

“I can’t check up on you?” Perona scoffed, “Honestly, YN.  I thought we had something special, too.  Not just you and the boys.”

“We do,” you threw your head back into the pillows, “But I’m also miserable.  And tired.”

“And don’t think I didn’t hear that crack about you calling me an ass!” Perona pouted.

“That’s great, Perona…” You drifted in and out of consciousness.  And you were perfectly ok with that.

“I’m not an ass!”

“Mmhm…”

“I am a fucking sweetheart, thank you very much!”

“Good talk, Perona…”

“And you are damn lucky to have me in your life!”

“Mmm…” But you were done.  You were going to let Perona continue her tirade, but you were done with it.  It was time for you to go to sleep.  Whether Perona was happy about it or not.  You needed the rest.  In all honesty, if Mihawk hadn’t passed out after his IV, he would’ve gladly shooed her away for you.  But alas, Mihawk had to go and pass out after his IV coming out.  But you weren’t going to fault him for it.  As long as you got to go back to sleep.

“Perona, get the hell out of here.” Much like that, but instead of it coming out of Mihawk, you got it from Crocodile instead.  Although, you weren’t expecting to be fully woken up by it.

“You’re no fun,” Perona pouted, “Where’s Mihawk?  I guess I could go fuck with him.”

“He’s passed out in his bed,” Crocodile reported, “The big baby can’t handle needles, apparently.”

“Poor thing,” Perona grinned, the sadism stirring in her heart.

“You’re the worst, Perona,” you made a little more room for Crocodile.

“I know.” And just like that, Perona was gone.  Likely off to screw with Mihawk in unspeakable ways.  If not Mihawk, you knew she was going to go take it all out on Buggy.  Much like everyone else would.

Your arms went up to Crocodile, quietly begging him to come to bed.  Of course, he couldn’t say no to you.  He crawled back into his bed and you stuck right to him like a magnet.  Crocodile’s giant hands ran idly down your back, “You should be back to sleep already, Princess.”

“I know,” you shut your eyes, “I was waiting for you to get back here.”

“You would’ve been able to sleep without me,” Crocodile brushed you off, “I’m sure whatever Law gave you had some kind of tranquilizer in it.”

“I don’t think so,” you nestled into Crocodile’s ribs, “Crocy…I’m tired…”

“Clearly,” Crocodile chuckled to himself, “Just go to sleep, sweetheart.  Ok?”

“I will…” And so, you drifted back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms, refusing to be anywhere else.  Between Crocodile’s warmth, your general exhaustion, and your medicine kicking in, there was no way you wouldn’t sleep through the night.  You didn’t care about anything else.  You had your blankets.  You had your warlord of the week.  You were done.

Purupuru…

“Yeah?” Crocodile kept his voice down, making sure not to wake you.  Granted, that ship had already sailed, but you were curious, so you kept your eyes shut, “Hi.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it…?  I’d be happy to, but forgive my skepticism…I wouldn’t say we parted ways as best buddies…Look, I can’t really talk right now…Yeah.  She’s been sick for the last day or so.  It hasn’t been pretty.  Kind of reminded me of when we were taking care of Luffy when he was little…I know.  Scared the shit out of me…Yeah, yeah.  She’ll be fine.  We got a doctor to her and he juiced her up with something.  He called it peramivir.  He juiced Mihawk and me, too, but that was just vitamin C…Good.  She needed something strong…Thank you.  That’s oddly kind of you.  Are you dying…?  I know.  Maybe one day, if she’s alright with it.  You do know where I’m staying these days, right…?  Mihawk’s.  Just call ahead first…Don’t go getting sentimental on me…Good night.”

“Crocodile…?” You stirred at his side, “What was that all about?”

“What was what, Princess?” Crocodile put his hand up to your forehead and let out a little sigh of relief, “Good.  That shit works fast.”

“What do you mean?” you wondered.

“Your fever’s gone,” Crocodile reported, “You’re almost all better.  Remind me to send Law a fruit basket.”

“Will do,” you went back to sleep, letting that conversation slip your mind.

“Go back to sleep, YN,” Crocodile pulled your blankets back over you.

“Yes, sir…”

[sunlight-shunlight]

anyway, the "they were doing it" bit on the solas flashbacks is wild bc it's like

ok. it's established that solas had mythal's vallaslin. which makes him her employee, AT BEST, in the most charitable interpretation of what those meant. and clearly there was a huge power differential, and she was willing to pressure him into doing things he didn't want to do, on her behalf. and later on, flemythal is capable of treating her daughters horribly, and fully mind-controlling whoever drank from the well on a whim, indicating that she has no qualms about what levels of cruelty or manipulation she'd go to. and despite all his "oough mythal was the best of them 🥺" stuff, solas gets very freaked out by a high approval inquisitor taking the well, which indicates he's at least somewhat aware of how much of a menace she can be, and is afraid on their behalf.

so is that not... a very dark implication for the writers to make? that's not a funny one-liner to throw in offhand, that affects both characters a lot, and is quite sad as an implication fhdgjgdfjgk. it would be an interesting plot point for them to explore such a toxic relationship and what effect it had on everyone involved, except i'm genuinely unsure if the writers had any thoughts about it at all.

[aka-indulgence]

Ouch

(Farmtale!Sans x GN!Reader)

PS. I don’t know if i gendered reader so im p sure its GN? But in case its not you can mention in the comments jkhdffh

Hi guys…. it’s a vent fic mostly about my recent feelings and also rthe lil accident… I think this is the most specific self-inserty vent fic I’ve made djkshfhgfh

been having a hard time ;v;

You’ve worked for Sans as an assistant for some time now. It’s been going as well as you’d expect; coming from the city it takes you time to get used to living and working as physically as you do. So far you’ve managed it, but when one bad stumble sends you to the clinic, all the stress comes crashing down.

TW: descriptions of injury and blood

(also minor mental breakdown(???) being stressed and frustrated with themselves, so if be aware if you’re sensitive to those kinds of things)

—————

Everything stings. The adrenaline's faded away, and what wounds and bruises you managed to ignore for half an hour, has made itself painfully known. Despite all your wounds to be relatively shallow, you feel your skin tugging whenever you moved, and so you sat awkwardly, one leg stretched out, and your arm placed carefully on your lap. You looked out through the window, breaths slow but heavy, your umarred fingers gripping tightly onto the hem of your shirt. You felt bad about not talking to Papyrus, having been so kind, concerning you and immediately driving you out to Alphys' clinic, leaving his work behind. You hadn't been able to keep your emotions in control (understandably, but that didn't mean you were happy with it) and might've spoken in panicked aggression. You only managed to say watery thank yous to him when you arrived, only replying to his question on sending you home with an equally watery 'yeah'.

The drive was long, and quiet. You didn't dare open your mouth, for fear the tears and the feelings you've been pressing down to flood you and your poor skeletal friend. He didn't have to deal with you, but you're so thankful he bothered. You're alone with your thoughts in the silent drive, and it makes you bite your lip and claw at your clothes. Your eyes felt pressure, but you weren't willing to spill.

When you arrived, you opened the door before Papuyrus could go around and open it for you.

"ARE YOU OK TO WALK ALONE?"

"Yeah."

"DO YOU NEED ANYMORE HELP?"

You let out a breath. "Thanks Pap, you've been a lot of help. S-sorry, I just need to be alone right now, I'll come back."

You feel guilty for brushing him off and rushing off like you did, but you don't think you can take the mortification of bursting to tears in front of him.

You head to the back of the barn, where no one walking down the road would be able to see you sulking. You got on the little bare essentials bench, where the wooden planks were just a touch too narrow, and the legs wobbled with every movement. The way they were built meant that there was a gap between it and the wall, and you hunched uncomfortably against it. The discomfort added to the storm of feelings that seemed to choke your throat.

You bit the finger of your left hand, your right shaking as you turn it this way and that to look at your bandages.

Just a light touch made it sting, and you could see they were already staining red. You grit your teeth thinking of the wounds they hide, and you cringe at the thought of bleeding.

A nameless fear in your heart, a pressure in your chest, the sounds of your swallowing were loud. Despite your efforts your breaths turn shallow and tears pricked your eyes, your body shakes.

But you go still when the backdoor swings open.

"y/n!?"

Sans is here. You're not willing to look at him, your eyes as wide as saucers, cheeks pink with embarassment.

There's a beat of silence when you don't respond to him.

"your leg… your arm-!! are you ok?"

You can hear him physically trying to calm himself down, wanting nothing more than to run to you, but reading the way you try to shrink in on yourself.

You look at the fields swaying in the wind through gaps in your hair while his shadow comes closer. His weight makes the bench creak, and a large, warm hand is placed on your back.

"y/n," he coaxes, gentler this time.

"N-no," you stutter, "I'm not ok,"

This is why you were trying to avoid everyone. You didn't… you didn't want anyone seeing you while you're 'not ok'. Not in this way.

He gives you space, the sounds of your shaky breath filling the silence.

He rubs your back slowly.

"if you need to cry, just let it out."

How… dare he…!

Just like that, your barely calmed breaths turn into hiccupy, shaky sobs, as you grit your teeth in the futile attempt to stop yourself. Your face breaks and you squeeze your eyes shut as you finally let yourself cry, one fist curled, covering your face, the other laying helplessly on your lap. You curl into yourself your face quickly getting wet, your fingers trying to find hold on your face and finding none, slipping down to cover your wreaking sobs. You can't stop it, you can't stop your tears from falling, you can't stop the sounds you're making, you can't stop the shuddering of your body.

You make a truly pitiful noise when, after turning towards him, Sans wraps his arms around you.

You don't remember when you cried so… loudly. Where it's all just out there, and your whole body jolts with every sob. You rub your face in his shirt. He smells like the fields, like the forest, of sunny days and a fireplace. He's pleasantly warm. Your free hand grips him like a lifeline, and though part of you is embarassed with your display, this was the comfort you sorely needed.

Through it all, Sans stays quiet, his skull on top of your head, rubbing comfortingly on your back.

You don't know how long you stayed there. A couple minutes until your sobs quietens, and what's left are the hiccups that interrupt your breaths.

Sans' hand moves to your hair, giving it a small scratch.

"do you think you're ready to talk now?"

You take a peek away from his chest, the world still abstracted into blobs until you blink them away.

Your breath shakes. "Y… yeah. I think so,"

You push off him, still shaking. You take a glance at his face and… his eyelights looked so warm.

"Your shirt," you see the smears on it and wince. "It's all dirty now,"

Sans waves you off. "i don't mind that one bit. now will you tell me what happened?"

You press your lips your hand covering your mouth, glancing back and forth from him. That shameful feeling came back, though not as strong as before, probably because you already bawled your eyes out. Your exhale comes out in a puff, and you deflate.

"I don't… rrrgh, it's stupid."

"i doubt it is,"

"Maybe I'll surprise you," you give a weak laugh.

You try to speak, but for a few seconds nothing comes out, only self depriciating thoughts, which you do your best to silence. You shake your face and try again.

"Ugh… It was raining earlier today, right? So the middle way between the fields was really wet and muddy. And you know, the hill over there to the side that's kind of steep, the one you say not to go over… well it was dryer than the middle path. And I hadn't had my walk today, and I was feeling really cabin fever or- or something. And we've walked over that way a couple times when it was dry so I thought hey, it's been a while since the rain, I'll be fine. I was just supposed to have a boring walk for what, 5? 15 minutes? Before the sun goes down? Or before I lose the motivation to do anything? And— ha, I had to spend two hours on the road and in the clinic, get stitches for what, slipping down the hill that I wasn't supposed to be walking over?"

You feel the anger bubbling over you again.

"I j-just, there was a muddy patch and the ground slipped under me— then I was suddenly slipping with the grass and the dirt scratching my side, and I guess there was a lot of sharp rocks there that sliced me up. It was supposed to be boring! It wasn't even that bad a fall so why—" you pulled the sleeve of your cardigan down, "do I have stitches in my arm?!"

Sans blinks at the sight. It's been a little less than an hour since you were covered up, but already you can see some red staining the gauze. The sight makes you feel a little sick, and you wonder how much more you'll bleed until it stops.

"I just slipped and fell… why did it have to be so much…?" quiet tears run down your already soaked face.

Your tattered jeans, splattered with blood when a particularly sharp rock dug into you. You could already see bruises forming, and they were all over your leg.

Tenderly, Sans takes your arm and looks it over, thumbing around the dressings. "oh my soul… that was a nasty tumble. the hill side on the north can be slippery, especially after the rain."

"Yeah… and I should've known that from the start. The north hill isn't a great place to walk on the best day, and I already felt the ground was damp when I walked over. Why didn't I stop? I should've stopped, all of this could've been avoided if I'd just didn't-! I'm so stupid!"

Sans' mouth falls to a frown. "now that ain't true,"

"And now I don't know if I can work much like this," you point to your; everything, "not that I was doing that much work to begin with, here, I get tired so easily, I can't lift two haystacks at once, I can't clean the barn quickly, I struggle to wake up early, I'm— I already mess up as much as I do, and now I can barely do anything. And and! why is it so cold?!?"

You shiver when the wind gets under your shirt, and you feel the stings from your wounds when you move. You become keenly aware of the dirt that still caked the bottom of your jeans and the side of your face that you hadn't bothered to clean. It feels dry, and sticky, and some of your tears made smears on your face and you see their mark on Sans' shirt and— you start to hyperventilate again. 

"I don't, I can't— I can't do anything right! I'm just a-a, loser city girl! I'm a failure!"

The tears come back, dribbling down yor cheeks and your chin, while you try to gasp for breath. The air's so cold, and you're embarassing yourself in front of your—

Sans is hugging you, careful not to touch your wounded arm and leg, tucking you under his chin again.

He squeezes.

"you're wrong. don't say that," he says, with a conviction you've never heard before from him.

You're shivering. You're not sure if it's from the cold or the state of mind you've been in. It's a good thing you have a large skeleton wrapped around you.

You sniffle. "I'm sorry,"

"hush, i won't be hearing none of that."

"I've been of n-no help, and I keep bothering you with stuff, I feel I just give you more work-"

"shhh…"

His fingers are in your hair. Oh you feel so miserable, but so comforted. You just want to curl into a sad little ball.

"I just feel… like I could've avoided that. And I can't do this job like you do. I just don't feel… good," you say, quietly.

"and it's alright to feel that way. of course you'd feel this way after a fall like that," he reassures you, but adds, "but you didn't know. accidents happen. i know you ain't the wreckless type. you're not stupid. sure you can't do all the things that i do, but i can't say i care much 'bout that. you try, even though i see you struggling. not many are willing to do that, y'know? no city… 'loser' would even try to do the things you're doing."

You look at him with a crook in your lips.

"honestly. all i'm concerned with right now is getting you to better shape. not because i need an extra farmhand, but because i worry about you. don't worry about work, 'least before you get better."

You give him a weak smile, scratching the unmarred part of your skin absentmindedly.

"I know… farmers usually ignore their injuries,"

"because we're a stubborn bunch." Sans chuckles, "just because you're not like us doesn't mean it's bad. i like seeing through your fresh eyes… when you cheer at a sheep, wow at the rolling grass fields… when you scream at a cow,"

You blurt a laugh. "Oh my god don't mention that… is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"it's supposed to make you laugh. it worked, didn't it?"

You laugh as Sans tucks a hair behind your ear.

"y/n… i don't think you're a failure," he tells you, taking out a handkerchief to wipe your dirty cheek.

("No don't… I dirtied your shirt enough,"

"to void with it. it's what it's made for, and not like i'm not used to the dirt.")

"or that you're stupid… i don't like you saying those things about yourself. you had a rough day, you're hurt and you're dirty, so of course you're angry with ev'rything. but you're no failure, i don't think so."

… You do feel a little better having your face be cleared out.

"I don't know Sans… it's hard to feel that way when I'm like this," you turn your hand around, looking at the bandage on your palm.

Sans takes it, 'inspects' it, and… gives it a kiss.

"Uf!" you exhaled in surprise, your wet cheeks glowing pink.

"sorry, did that hurt?"

"N-no, I'm fine," you're balling your fist so tightly around your shirt, the whites of your knuckles were showing.

Thumb on the back of your hand, avoiding the bandages.

"you don't have to feel better now. but i'll make sure you will,"

"… Ok," you mustered, even if a stray tear still fell from your eye.

Sans looks down at the bench that has kept creaking with every movement he makes. "maybe the first thing we ought to do is get off this darned rickety thing. i don't think sitting halfway off the plank curled like a whimsun is helping your feelings,"

You snort a laugh. If you were sitting uncomfortably on this bench, Sans was practically doing a wall squat with how little bench was under him, and you worry he'll break it.

He's right. Also your posture is starting to make you all too aware of your spine.

"Ok,"

You gladly take his offer and his hand to go inside the house where a plush couch waiting for you just in front of the fireplace.

[gothamite-rambler]

Lian, Damian and Jon were in the Wayne home theatre watching a horror movie together. One they should not be watching, but it was one Damian was studying for his contingency plans.

Lian: Damian.

Damian: No.

Lian (glaring at the boy): Damian.

Damian (turning up the volume on the TV): Silence, I’m learning.

Lian: Damian, we are watching Brightburn! It’s making Jon uncomfortable, and it isn’t a how-to on stopping Superman!

Damian: It's just a what if scenario that may or not happens. I wouldn't kill him, just immobilize him until I remove the edge lord evilness.

Lian: Never ever doubt you're related to Bruce, dude. Jon, are you okay?

Jon laughed, amused by the movie over being terrified.

Jon (eating popcorn): I’m good. I can't be offended by the Superman part of this movie; this movie sucks because of everything else. This Brandon kid would wear a trench coat to look cool. And what happened to Caitlyn?

Damian: That is a bit of a plot hole.

Jon: And those poor chickens! The chickens didn’t do anything to deserve that. And what the heck, Tory, pay attention to your psycho son!

Lian: Okay... glad this isn’t an issue for you. I’m just bored. Like, we get it, Brandon, you’re trying to be scary. Give me a break.

Jon: Honestly, this feels like what Goku from Dragon Ball would be like if he hadn’t hit his head.

Lian and Damian stared at Jon, not sure what to say. Jon shrugged.

Jon: My mom’s really into anime. Do you think our parents will find out we watched this?

Lian: If Damian keeps his lips zipped, they won’t.

Damian (taking notes on his phone): My father had this saved in a contingency folder. If anything, he wanted me to see this.

[aroaceleovaldez]

I have to wonder if Will being into space themed sci-fi specifically is like. A weird side effect of being an Apollo child. He's the sun god and the first major NASA expedition was called Apollo and now sometimes his kids get Space as a special interest. Doctor Who, Dune, and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy are also probably up his alley.

I like this thought a LOT and am immediately incorporating it into my Will hcs.

[thelonelyshore-if]

How did the ROs figure out their queerness?

Give us the thoughts king 👀 if its not spoilery of course

Ahhhh thank you both so much I love love love thinking about this. The ROs mean so much to me and I love thinking about them as people, with all of the experiences that comes with it. Answering below the cut because this is gonna be an essay <3

Beck - ever since Beck was little they knew that sometimes they felt like a boy and sometimes they felt like a girl and sometimes both or neither or something else entirely...but they also didn't fully realize that not everyone felt that way. If her sister got mad at her for stealing & wearing her clothes it was because her sister was mean, not because she was 'supposed to be' something else. If her parents got on their case for not conforming; well, their parents were always on their case. Not anything different when it was because they caught them kissing a boy. It wasn't really until late middle school that Beck fully understood that they were different.

To this day they don't really have the words to describe their gender. They just know it changes, and they do what they can to broadcast that to the people around them. Most people don't get him, but that's nothing new. His sexuality is even more complex too describe in exact words, for him, but he knows he's been attracted to all sorts of people. Queer fits, and he doesn't really feel the need to try to define it further than that.

Croft- unlike all of the other ROs, Croft is from modern day and unquestionably grew up on tumblr lmao. They are very knowledgeable about the spectrum of gender and sexuality. Unfortunately how they figured out that they're trans is a spoiler (it's a story that will be much more fun to read in game lol), but they figured out that they're on the ace spectrum in high school. All of their friends were obsessed with dating and sex and they thought they'd lost their minds. And then eventually (after answering one too many "who do you have a crush on???" questions) they went. Wait a second maybe I'm one one who's different here.

In college, though, they fell desperately and unquestionably in love with their only long term partner to date. She was mysterious and beautiful and a self-described witch...and one of their best friends. Croft was obsessed and realized that maybe they aren't actually fully asexual. Clearly there's the potential for attraction, if they're connected enough to someone. So they mentally adjusted the label they use to demisexual and went on their merry way.

F!Jay- gotta split Jay up because it deeply depends on their gender. But, as I think I've mentioned before, when f!Jay and Yasmin were younger teenagers they had a classic homoerotic teenage best friendship going on. Jay had a massive crush on Yas, they cuddled and held hands all the time, they were each other's first kiss (to ~practice~ ofc). And it was all totally platonic, because they were both girls!!!

Spoiler alert: it wasn't. When Yasmin and Seth started dating Jay felt weirdly jealous and brokenhearted. She talked to her mom about it, and Grace was just like. Honey. Baby girl. And Jay was like but I don't even like girls like that!!! She was in denial for a bit until she joined the co-ed baseball team, realized she spent a bit too long admiring all of her teammates in a way that definitely wasn't platonic, and then went. Oh. Huh.

M!Jay- he really doesn't think about this sort of thing the same way his female counterpart does. Jay is a pretty damn emotionally intelligent guy...but he doesn't really do introspection all that well. So his own path to self discovery was a lot more like. Damn my teammates have nice form. And look great in their baseball pants. And then proceeded to not really think all that deeply about it until he was (unknowingly) fawning over how good one of their male teammates looked and Seth was just like........."bro I love u no matter what you can tell me if you're gay."

And Jay was just silently like. What the hell do you mean I had a crush on your girlfriend for years. And out loud was just like. "I just respect him as a player I don't think he's hot." And Seth said "..........ok." Then Jay went home and thought about it longer and also went. Oh. Huh.

Perri- when it comes to their sexuality, Perri has always kind of suspected? They fall a little bit in love with everybody. Especially people who are nice to them. Not in a way where they assume people are flirting. In fact, Perri doesn't think they've ever been flirted with. No way. They're too awkward and weird. (Perri needs better self confidence). But people are just so pretty, and funny and sweet and interesting...and gender has never really been a limiting factor on that. They really figured it out definitively in middle school, though it took them until high school to actually put it into words and tell other people about being queer.

For Nonbinary!Perri, their gender journey was significantly more complicated than figuring out their sexuality. They tried on a couple of different identities and labels throughout their later middle school years. Having Beck as a best friend kind of made them actually think about their gender and how unhappy they were being seen as their assigned gender. They wondered if maybe they were just the opposite gender and were trans, but that made their skin crawl in the same way. They didn't want to be defined as anything, really. Just themself. So eventually they just figured that their gender is as queer as their sexuality and left it at that.

Ravi- okay so. I can't say a lot about Ravi because of spoilers. Which I'm very sorry about. BUT what I can say is that, for a long time, he figured he had to be gay. He had a boyfriend he loved, after all. If he's a guy attracted to other guys, then there isn't really any other option...right? Even if he noticed girls & other people the exact same way as he did most other boys. It wasn't the same as the heart-pounding, life-ending near obsession he felt for the boy he loved.

After his ex died, Ravi settled on the fact that he'd never fall in love again. (The man has a big storm coming). It wasn't until chatting with Jay and Yasmin about their own queerness that he realized that being bisexual was even an option. He felt kind of silly, after that. Of course it was. He quietly adopted the label and went about his day. It isn't like it matters, since he'll never date anyone else ever again ;)

Yasmin- probably had the easiest time of figuring herself out, save for maybe Croft. Yasmin is, if nothing else, deeply self-confident. She understands herself in a way few other people really do. She's known since she was little that she liked girls as well as boys. She has a distinct memory of telling her parents that she was going to marry Princess Jasmin someday. Her parents acted weridly concerned, until Yasmin clarified that it meant she'd have a pet tiger. They didn't realize that the 'marry a princess' part was just as important as the 'pet tiger' part.

As she grew older she understood that her attraction wasn't really limited to gender...but she still assumed she'd probably marry a man. It's still Easthaven, after all. Plus her parents weren't...the most accepting people in the world.

If Jay is a woman they had their 'friendship', and it made Yasmin blush and her heart beat faster, but she never really thought much of it. Yas is much more comfortable in her sexuality now--in the sense that she's not afraid of what the town would think if she dated a woman or nonbinary person--but...she's in a similar boat as Ravi. Never gonna have another long-term relationship, so it isn't really an issue? At least, that's what she thinks ;)

[a-mint-bear]

Yandere Boy Types

The Stalker

● Knows everything about you. Your birthday, favorite color, animal, food? That's easy! Give him a hard one. He knows what shows you're watching lately, what you get for takeout, who you talk to every day. He even knows what you wrote about him in your journal. You're using a new toothpaste lately. He's taking notes.

● Has been in your place dozens of times, goes through your drawers and lays in your bed and sniffs your pillow. Maybe even some other stuff he can't mention in polite company... Sometimes you notice things out of place, maybe? Missing things too. Maybe it's just your imagination.

● You dismiss that feeling of someone watching you or following you, thinking you're just being paranoid. But he tends to show up when you go out. Isn't that just such a coincidence? You should totally come sit at his table at the coffee shop though, why not?

● Has lots of pictures of you. LOTS. You smiling for the camera, reading on the park bench, in line at your usual pharmacy, even some when you were pretty sure you were alone. Is that you sleeping?

The Actor

● Pretends to be whatever you need him to be to win you over. Maybe you like sporty guys? He did track and field in school and he's training for a marathon, you wanna join him for runs? Artsy guys your thing? He loves to paint, has for years! Shy boys are the cutest, right? He stutters and looks away when he sees you. He totally didn't mean to touch your hand just then, so sorry!

● You mentioned to a friend you like guys who like animals? Guess who just got a puppy! You like strawberries? They're his favorite! Wow, you have the same coffee order, what are the odds? He thought you liked it when guys paint their nails? Oh, you think that color would look better? He's already adding it to his cart.

● He can't remember what his favorite song used to be, he's been listening to that band you're into lately. What kind of cake does he like? Well, whatever you want him to like! That stuff isn't important anyway. Just tell him what you want him to be into, he'll love it!

● Doesn't understand why you don't just fall for him already, but he'll pretend as long as it takes. He'll be anyone you want him to be, he doesn't need anything or want anything if it's not to make you look his way. You don't feel the same way about him? That's okay! He can change! Just...tell him what you want!

The Loner

● On his own a lot for one reason or another, but when he met you, there was just something about you... Maybe it was a friendly smile you sent his way, or just how your hair looked. Maybe you were just there on a bad day. But whatever the reason, he can't seem to forget you.

● You're meeting up with friends? You should hang out with him instead. You have to get ready for work? A sick day never hurt anyone. And you deserve a day off. He would love it if you just spent every day with him. Just him.

● Sometimes his possessiveness is cute. He pouts when you answer your phone when you're together. He stares daggers at the overly-flirty cashier at the convenience store. He shoves the touchy-feely guy on the street off you and walks you home. Sometimes it's not so cute. He is convinced that your best guy friend is in love with you and it pisses him off. If anyone accidentally touches you he's up in their face. It's not you he doesn't trust. You're just too cute, of course everyone would want you like he does.

● He just wishes you didn't need anyone other than him. You're his whole world. Why can't you see he just wants to be with you all the time? Why won't you only look at him? Can't you see how much he loves you? There's no one else like you. You're it for him. No one else even comes close.

The Devotee

● Worships you. You are the light of his life, why he gets out of bed in the morning, his reason for being. His every waking thought is consumed by you. Every time he sees you, it's like a radiant light surrounds you. He can't look away.

● Adores you. You know who's so cute? You, of course! The way you move, all your little habits, the look in your eyes when you see him. He's never seen such a flawless human being. Everything you don't like about yourself is just one more thing he finds so charming about you. If you let him, he would never stop touching and kissing every inch of you.

● Would die for you. Just say the word. If you ever needed him to suffer for any reason, he wouldn't even hesitate. Yell at him, push him, shove him? It hurts, but that's okay! As long as he's near you, he's in heaven. If it made you happy, he'd do anything. He doesn't matter! All that matters is you.

● Would kill for you. That creep at the bar who gets a bit too handsy with you? Gone. That coworker who made you cry in the bathroom at work? Gone. Maybe that neighbor who looks at you just a bit too long on your walks? Gone. You and your best friend had a fight? Gone. No one appreciates you like he does. No one else deserves you!

[quietwingsinthesky]

the thing is, i don’t disagree that what and how you choose to write about things is a reflection of you, the writer, and cannot be divorced from your beliefs and biases. but to assume that anyone can perfectly pick out your beliefs from a piece of fiction you’ve written is an extremely weird and paranoid thing to claim, especially if you’re positing that the secret truth is that the writer is a dangerous person and they’re “revealing” that through fiction that upsets you, personally. at the end of the day, the artist is not the art, and no matter how upsetting, no matter how much you dislike it, no matter how much it disgusts you, you don’t know the person who made it and you can only guess how who they are shaped what they made.

like, really, is it more likely that the secret “belief” that’s being revealed when you’re reading something that is really upsetting to you is that the author is a secret Bad Person™️ who wants all of this fantasy to happen in real life, or that the author knows it’s a safe and normal thing to create upsetting works of fiction and so did that.

[prying-pandora666]

Why do I keep seeing “the only reason Zutara isn’t canon is that the writers wanted Kataang” everywhere?

Of COURSE that’s why! That’s how fiction works! Everything that happens in a story only happens because the writer wanted to write it that way.

What else is even possible? The characters aren’t real! They have no will or desires of their own!

Or do you expect writers to… not write their stories the way they want to write them?

Who came up with this? Whoever you are, I just want to talk.

[louroth]

All this nervous energy just running off of you as long as you. keep. moving. The adrenaline feels lovely as it surges, past the last set, into another, and a third— you're going for failure, aren't you?

Always.

It is not enough to coast the high of enough. It has to be more. There has to be the tenuous sigh of relief as your body scrambles to survive within the frame you've made for it. Just one more. Another.

The weights fall to the floor with a clatter and your mouth splits into a wide grin of approval as everything— your vision, your limbs, your spirit— trembles, quakes: the good kind of exhaustion. The ceiling is the loveliest view you've ever seen— you did it. The something you can do. Colors dull in comparison to it. As you lay on the mat, tracing worms of fracturing color that twitch with your heightened breath, a face steps in, swirling your vision into whirls of lights and traces of sweat. A smirk, a raised eyebrow— distant, not staring, but aware. He hefts his own weight. Flicks his focus to your red, flushed face. Meets your eyes for a fraction of a second before curling the iron once more.

"A sight for sore eyes."

You, at a lack for words, trace an eye over his form. He rolls his lips. You flick a brow.

And that is all there is to it.

[aeolianblues]

Does anyone else remember the time in their lives when they would choose entire career paths based on what niche knowledge they wanted to gain to write their little fiction work?