this is titled “i-have-art-block-and-cant-produce-anything-except-bullshit-so-here-is-a-generic-¾-view-bust-of-lance-BUT-WITH-GLASSES.png” on my laptop.
idk this is a college au or something he’s reading a really smart astrophysics book or whatever offscreen that’s why he looks so serious it has nothing to do with the fact that I CAN’T DRAW ANYTHING EXCEPT GENERIC ¾ VIEW UNSMILING BUSTS RIGHT NOW
klance under the cut just in case some of y’all dont ship it
Yes, yes, I know,I’ve got an inbox bursting. However, @tyranttortoise has been feeling a little under the weather, and made a post about wanting an imagine about UF!Sans caring for a sick S/O. So, in order to pay them back for those kickass insomnia headcanons they did for me and get me back in the swing of things, I am happy to oblige. I might do Stretch later, but this turned out a bit long.
No use dancing around it. You felt gross as fuck. The vomiting had slowed down about an hour ago (long enough for you to stagger to the bathroom to get rid of the latest leavings of your stomach), but your face was still shoved into the bucket and you remained on high alert for any digestive movements not immediately sanctioned. You hadn’t showered in two days and you looked it, your hair somewhat greasy and your body sweaty. Around the room were plates that had contained toast you’d managed to find the energy to make but not clean up for.
Flu season always hit you hard, and your one comfort right now is that nobody was around to see you-
“doll? you here?”
Well, you supposed even thinking that had been tempting fate. “Red, what are you doing in my house?”
There was a low chuckle as the door closed. “do i have to have a reason now to want to see you?” You could hear his footsteps, slow but sure, in the living room. “stopped by your work. thought i’d surprise ya, but turns out you weren’t there. they said you were sick.”
“Which to some might have been an indication to stay away.” you grumbled. Truth be told you were glad to see him, you just didn’t want him seeing you.
“come on, i’m a skeleton, what am i gonna catch?” Before you could reply the door to your room swung open and he stood on the threshold, drinking in the sight, of you in old ill-fitting pajamas, surrounded by filth. You had been mired in this place pretty much non stop so you weren’t sure, but it couldn’t have smelled good either.
“well, aren’t you a sight.”
You sat up, pushing some hair out of your face. “Sans-”
He chuckled again, that familiar grin on his face. “yeah, not gonna lie, sweetheart.” he walked to the bed and kissed your forehead. “this is really fucking gross.”
“You’re one to talk.” you mumbled, kissing his cheekbone. “Have you seen your bedroom?”
“that’s a performance art piece.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Please define ‘performance art piece for me’ right now.”
He smirked. “someone’s in a mood, i see. did you shower?”
You shook your head. “Been throwing up too much.”
“alright, first thing’s first, hafta settle that stomach. be back in a sec.” he teleported out while you laid back in the bed.
Thirty minutes later he showed up with a thermos, which he handed to you. It was filled with warm soup. “tori’s specialty. ‘ccording to Frisk its pretty good for upset stomach.” You were familiar with Toriel’s cooking habits, and looked at him. “don’t worry, we kept an eye on her to make sure she didn’t put nothin funny in.”
That wasn’t necessarily reassuring, but you decided to risk a draught, keeping the bucket close at hand.
Well, your stomach didn’t immediately revolt….actually…. “That’s the first thing that’s tasted okay in two days.”
He grinned, and tousled your hair. “go shower.”
You got up and started gathering clean clothes. Just before walking in to the bathroom you turn around. “What, no suggestive offers to join me?”
Red rolled his eyes.
“Who is this skeleton I see before me?”
“the threat of being hurled on kind of kills the mood, sweetheart.” he grinned.
“Coward.” you went into the bathroom and started stripping. The shower felt fantastic. You could envision the germs being blasted off your skin, and your stomach was mostly settled.
When you came out he had swapped your sheets and blankets for clean ones and the dishes were gone. You walked outside the room to see him gathering some crackers and water onto a plate.
“Think if I told your brother you just cleaned without being prompted he would pass out?”
“i think you might kill him, honestly.” he came back and wrapped his free arm around your waist, kissing you full on the mouth before guiding you back to your room. “least you smell okay now.”
You smirk and elbow him in the ribs. He grunts, but chuckles.
After making you lie down in bed he sets the plate to the side and wraps his arms around you, your back against his rib cage and your head under his chin. He opens your laptop and starts queuing up Netflix. “do me a favor, next time just text me that you’re getting sick? you haven’t answered for two days, thought i’d done something wrong.”
“Sorry.” you said, pulling the blankets up to your chin. “But this isn’t my first time being sick, you know, I can handle it myself.”
“i know.” he kissed your cheek. “but that’s the point of me bein here. you get to do stuff with another person that you’d normally have to do alone.”
Its unusually sentimental for Red. “Like, throwing up and lying in your own filth?”
He smirks. “like throwin up and lyin in your own filth.” The show starts up, and you both lapse into comfortable silence.
Red barely leaves your house over the next few days. As usual there’s a complete disconnect between his words and his actions. He teases you about how gross you are while holding your hair back and cleaning up vomit spills. He nags about how much you’re going to owe him for this while basically refusing to let you get up for anything. He smirks and says he’s wasting a lot of time on your feeble human body but refused to go home even when Edge tried to order it. In his own way, it was sweet.
Finally, a night you slept without needing to run panickedly to the bathroom to empty out whatever food you had managed to stuff down. You went to the bathroom to check your temperature and found the fever had broken: you were almost normal. You still felt a bit queasy, but not much more than a light case of carsickness. For the first time, you felt up to pulling on jeans and a t-shirt instead of old sweats. You went downstairs to fix some breakfast, and were greeted by a heartwarming sight. Red, passed out from exhaustion on your couch, with a soft smile. You took a picture to capture the moment before climbing on top of him and kissing him awake to thank him.
Imagine Dirk Gently season one except that Rapunzel was a fucking massive Great Dane or a Pitbull or something.
Imagine that they’ve gotten themselves trapped in Rimmer’s bathroom in episode two and they have to deal with an enthusiastic shaggy beast that Todd’s lowkey convinced is a wolf and Dirk has to try get the bloody thing out of the house somehow.
(Though imagine Rimmer trapping Lydia in the body of a dog with teeth and only realizing it when it’s too late).
How would the US and SF skelebrothers react is their S/O broke up with them, but then later they found out it was because they didn't think they were good enough for them.
For some reason, it seems like the universe is against me today. I had to rewrite this three times because google kept closing itself.
US!Sans: He’s a crying mess when you break up with him. Clinging to you and begging you not to go. He doesn’t understand. What did he do wrong? Why wont you tell him what he did. He can fix it. He knows that he can. You just have to tell him what he did and it’ll all be okay after. When you refuse, and instead leave him there on his own. He doesn’t know how to handle it. So he tries to follow you. He’ll be blowing up your phone for the next few hours because you can’t leave like this.
The next few weeks are hard for him. He’s not good at dealing with emotions this deep. And he’ll be pendling from sadness to anger. The anger is mostly at himself, but a tiny part of him is angry at you for hurting him like this. You weren’t supposed to make him feel like this. And he wants you back at the same time he wants to hate you. Just to make it easier.
Until he finds out why. And he shows up at your doorstep, trying not to cry as he pulls you in for a hug. He’s so so sorry for making you believe you weren’t good enough. He may be great, but so are you. And this is all his fault for not telling you often enough. The next few days are filled with cuddles and compliments. He can’t ever risk losing you because you thought you weren’t good enough for him.
US!Papyrus: He’s quiet while you break up with him. Lighting a cigarette and looking at you quietly while he finishes it in record time. He listens to your arguments without interrupting, but if you think that he’s going to let you go without a fight you’re very wrong. For every reason to break up with him he’ll counter with one of his own of why you shouldn’t. His voice is calm and on the outside he seems collected, but on the inside he is panicking. It’s not until you’re actually about to up and leave that he reacts. He grabs your arm and tries to pull you back slightly. Please don’t leave him. Please. When you pull your arm free and walks out he’s just standing there, looking after you. He feels the sadness creeping up on him and it’s oddly numbing.
In the next few days the areas under his eyes turn dark from a lack of sleep. And he reeks of cigarette smoke. He’s practically living on the balcony, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He’d do it inside the house. But he knows that if you were to come back you’d never forgive him for it. It’s a small pathetic hope but he’s willing to hold on to it. It’s something.
He hears about why you broke up at him when he’s hanging at Muffet’s a month later. And he’s immidieatly hit with guilt. Because he understands why you would think that. He flirts with everything, it’s part of his personality. And even though he toned it down when you two became a thing, he realizes that he never actually stopped. And instead of getting jealous and telling him to quit it, you quietly let him do it until you decided that you weren’t good enough for him? Stars he messed this up.
He finds you when you’re at work. Sneakily creeping up behind you and teleporting you to his house. He stands in front of you while awkwardly rubbing his neck, avoiding eye contact. He’s not good with apologies, but you deserve one. And he tells you that you are way out of his league, and just way too good for him. And he really doesn’t deserve to get you back. But please. He didn’t realize how much it hurt you.
SF!Sans: He is both angry and sad. But at first he simply refuses. And he’s trying to tell you that you don’t mean what you’re saying. You can’t break up with him. So he’s going to go calm down somewhere and let you get to your senses. But you can’t be a pushover if you’re dating him, so that’s not going to work. He gets more and more desperate. And in the end you’ll have him pleading, begging you to stop this nonsense. He’s telling you to rethink it and that ‘’You don’t mean what you’re saying right now- No Y/N don’t interrupt me, listen to me you’re not thinking straight!’’ Even though he’s as upset as he is, he’s still trying to be diplomatic, borderline manipulative. It’s the only way he knows he can make you stay. But it doesn’t work. And when you’ve truly walked away from him. He sinks down onto his knees and stares after you. One part of him wants to curl up and cry, another part wants to destroy every living thing in a one mile radius of his house. He ends up wrecking the place until it’s unrecogniseble.
He keeps trying to contact you during the following days. And eventually he shows up at wherever it is you’re staying. And he demands that you tell him exactly why you broke up with him. If only so that he can at least move on (He’s lying, he’s not planning on moving on anytime soon). When you finally cave and tel him your reasons, it’s like the annoyance and superiority he’s been faking melts away. And he actually whispers oh. This wasn’t what he had expected. Not even close. He pulls you in harshly for a hug despite your protests, and he prepares himself to swallow his pride. Which is already damaged beyond repair from his little temper tantrum. When he moves back from the hug he actually apologizes. And promises to never let you feel like that again, if you’ll take him back. It’s a promise he intends to keep for the rest of his life.
SF!Papyrus: When you break up with him, it’s like he’s just standing there taking a scolding. He knew that you had been too good to be true. But he didn’t think it’d end like this and it hurts. He doesn’t even bother with trying to keep a cool expression. Tears are dripping down his cheeks as he asks you to stay, begs you. In his quiet voice. He doesn’t expect you to, you looked like you’d made up your mind already. And even though he’s hurt and his natural instincts are telling him to be angry he can’t. Not at you. So when you’re saying your goodbyes he studies your face instead. Trying to memorize it in all it’s tearstained beauty. He holds on to that mental picture. He’s thinking that at least those tears seemed to be for him, and not you. He’s not sure if that’s making him feel better though. It just makes his mind go on a constant loop of why.
He isolates himself after this. Meaning that it takes him literal months to hear why you broke up with him. It’s Sans who spills the beans, after hearing it from Alphys while training. He only told his brother so he’d stop moping around the house and go fix his relationship or whatever.
When Russ finds you, he teleports you to his rooms and locks the door behind him. For a second it looks like he’s going to murder you, you’d forgotten how scary he really is. Especially when he’s got you pushed up against a wall and he’s towering over you.
But then he starts talking, almost too quick for you to hear. Like he’s nervous. ‘’I know why you broke up with me. And if you really think that I’m the better one in this relationship then I don’t know what the hell to tell you, but you should know better. This whole thing you did was complete bullshit and if you’d just talked to me back then, we wouldn’t have had to go through this for literal months. And I don’t know if you’ve moved on already, I haven’t. But I’m not going to let you carry on without knowing that you are a cute fucking idiot and I am not too good for you, you’re the one who’s way too good for me and I don’t know why you fell for me of all people in the first place’’-
He’s breathless when he finishes his little speak, and as you’re standing there processing it, and he’s catching his bearings again. He suddenly pulls you in close and kisses you. Soft and gentle but still with the same passion he delivered the speech with. You both melt into it and he wraps his arms around you and tangles his fingers in your hair. Good luck telling him that you still want him to be ancient history after that.