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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years

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Turns of Phrase

Prompt: I'd like you to consider: all the sides in the mindscape have the "way too literal" problem, like for example, Virgil actually grows taller when his anxiety is heightened, Patton actually grows wings when Thomas has a 'heart aflutter', e.c.t. But Roman just has a huge stack of negative ones. Creative block, bruised ego, shackled creativity, e.c.t. And then there's h/c when somebody (Logan) sees 👀👀

Thanks for the prompt babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, Roman whump

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5722

This is Roman’s fault. Really. It is. He’s the one who works the closest with the Imagination, which means he’s got control over how Thomas interacts with his own imagination, which means that he’s got control over how Thomas sees the Sides.

So yeah. This is his fault.

‘Heart all aflutter.’ ‘Heightened anxiety.’ ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’ All the little innocuous phrases that are just turns of phrase, not supposed to be literal, well…they got into Thomas’s head when he was younger, and since, the Imagination has never quite gotten rid of them. Shouldn’t be too bad, right, this should be something they can deal with.

And for the most part, they do.

Patton wears the hoodie tied around his shoulders to block the chill from the slits sewn in the back of all of his shirts in case the wings decide to pop out again. When they do, everyone crowds around to make sure he doesn’t fly off into the sky or accidentally twist one. The feathers are the softest things you can imagine and work great for stuffing pillows or plushies.

Virgil’s clothes are made of stretchy, baggy material and the doorways are much, much higher than they need to be. There’s a special cupboard tucked high up in the pantry that just has Virgil’s comfort foods in them so he can reach comfortably when he’s tall.

And, well…there’s a reason Janus wears such a long cloak.

For the most part, these are just minor inconveniences. Listen, when you live in a completely imaginary world where you can summon anything you need and change anything you don’t like with a snap of your fingers, things like new clothes or snacks are easy.

Then there’s Roman.

Roman, who is tied most closely to the Imagination.

Roman, who represents not just Creativity, but romance, motivation, desire.

Roman. The Ego.

The problem with throwing around these types of phrases is how easy it becomes to dismiss them. And for Thomas, who has a creative profession, that’s good. For Thomas.

Not so good for Roman.

“Hey, you’ve been having some trouble getting ideas out lately, you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just going through a bit of a creative block at the moment.”

Roman’s fists ache as he pounds on the door, heaving sobs trailing off into hitched gasps as he slumps against the unyielding wood. As a desperate last resort, he throws himself at the door, barely making it shudder in its frame. It’s as if he weighs nothing, not an ounce, unable to make so much as a goddamn dent in the world around him.

“Let me—let me out, please, let me out, I gotta—I want out,” he sobs, over and over, as his room grows smaller and smaller, the walls pressing in around him, blank, sterile, cold, “I wanna—out, let me out, let me out, let me out please—“

He’s not even in his room anymore. He’s in a pure white cage, on the wrong side of a door that will not open.

“Dude, like…reign it in a little bit.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. That’s…like, way too much.”

“I dunno, I think it feels weird if we weren’t doing this.”

“C’mon, it won’t kill you to shackle your creativity a little.”

Roman wakes up to the quiet clinking of metal against metal. He goes to wipe his face and a bolt of pain shoots through his arm. The shackles spread him so far his chest aches, wincing as he tries to turn just a little to avoid the rush of agony that would come from having his arm trapped in the wrong position. At least he was lying down this time, and he’s on his bed. He isn’t being forced to stand the whole time, strung up on the ceiling.

They’re so cold.

The shackles sap the warmth from his body bit by bit, draining it until the weight of the cold pressing down onto his chest is enough to make him gasp. On instinct, he pulls, trying to get a little more of himself wrapped up, warm, safe, but the chains barely make a groan as they wrench him back apart. He grits his teeth and holds still.

He learned not to try and break these. He used to rage and slam against them like a brute, trying to pull their fastenings out of some mystical holder, embodied in his wall, only to come away with bleeding and scraped wrists from his pains, rubbed raw and chafed horribly by the cruel shackles.

For the most part, he’s able to keep the others from noticing. They can’t hear a thing when he’s trapped in the creative block. He’s careful to always wear long sleeves to hide the scrapes and burns from the shackles. They don’t know the true extent of what happens to him when Thomas decides he doesn’t want his creativity.

But he can’t hide all of them.

‘Bruised ego.’

Patton knows. Patton somehow always figures things out and doesn’t tell anyone, least of all Roman. But sure enough, after the audition, Patton showed up outside of Roman’s door and knocked, quietly asking to be let in.

Roman had let him, splattered as he was with blues and purples and greens and yellows, all the colors that didn’t belong to him, and yet here they were, painted on him. He’d kept his undershirt on, letting Patton feed him the soup that was sure to end with Roman lying on his back in the bathroom, panting, until the bowl had run dry and Roman’s smile had come back.

After Patton had gone, the smile had slid off, the paint cracked and chipped. Roman had stood, leaning against the bed for stability, and made his way slowly, oh, so, slowly, to the bathroom.

Getting his shirt off had been agony. Every time he moved skin had stretched, bruises had protested, even his muscles cried out. The undershirt was soaked in sweat and a light sheen had clung to Roman’s body as he stood there, panting, wincing in the mirror. He couldn’t look.

That had been the last time it had gotten very bad. Very bad.

They only ever seemed to notice when it was very bad.

His prince costume hides the shackle marks. His undershirt hid the bruises. No one cared to look for him when he was trapped in the creative block. No one could see. No one wanted to see.

No one knew.

Roman’s been lucky lately.

They’ve all been happening one at a time. The block never has shackles strapped to the wall. The shackles are never clasped around bruises spilling beneath his skin. The bruises are never from both beating on a door and from the outside world. He can deal with them if they’re like this. One at a time.

He’s had a few close calls, though. He almost missed a meeting with Logan because the block had him trapped. It squeezed him so tight it felt as if he hadn’t any room to breathe, not until the door and opened a crack and he’d hurled himself out, panting harshly, rushing to Logan’s. He was caught at his desk recently too. The shackles had formed and dragged him over to the corner where he’d bitten his lip to try and stay quiet as he desperately tried to draw himself away. He’d accidentally made too grand a gesture and his sleeve had ridden up, exposing the edge of a mark or bruise and he’d have to pull it back down quick enough so that no one would notice. And so far, it’s worked.

No one has noticed.

And what would he say? That this is just some dumb stupid thing he has to deal with? The others know about this whole ‘taking things too literally problem,’ look at Patton, look at Virgil, look at Janus. They all understand and they receive the same amount of attention Roman does. Honestly, they’ve been receiving what they’re entitled to. Their stuff actually runs the risk of harming Thomas. Fire, wings, banging your head, sure, that’s fine, but they—look.

Having your heart flutter signifies great emotions, the potential for love, you should pay attention to your emotions!

Heightened anxiety? It’s not great! It means we should be listening to Virgil and what’s going on, what’s upsetting Thomas, how to help.

And everyone should always be worried about spontaneously combusting pants.

And even if they did find out, what is Roman supposed to say? That it’s his fault they all have these issues? That Thomas’s psyche takes certain liberties with the hard-and-fast rules of what happens to metaphysical people? It’s his fault, after all, he’s the conduit. It’s fine. He can handle this stuff. It’s all fine.

He should’ve known his luck would run out.

Roman blinks awake to feel the walls pressing in on him, tighter, tighter, tighter. His breath catches in his throat.

No.

No, no, no, he’d been doing so well, so well, they’d just had a conversation about how he’d been so good, the ideas had been good, he’d had—he’d had so many he was ready to work on, he just needed to—

Roman squeezes his eyes shut, racking his brain. He knows he has ideas. He had them a little while ago. It wasn’t that long. They can’t have vanished so quickly. Wait, what time is it? How did they—how long has he been here? What is—how long has it been? Have the others realized he’s here yet?

What if they look for him and they think he won’t come out? What if they start to hate him because they can’t find him? What if he can never get out again? What if they realized they never needed him in the first place?

He—he’s not wrong, he can’t be wrong, he has to be right, he has to—he has to find a way out of here.

Quickly, Roman squeezes his eyes even tighter, mouth making random shapes as he tries to think. If he can just think of a really good idea, he’ll get out. If he just thinks, if he just does his job, if he’s really good he’ll get out. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this. He can—

Clink, clink, clink.

No.

No!

Roman snarls as the shackles encase his wrists, forcing to his knees, still crouched in this room that is too small, too pale, too awful. He lunges for the door as he hears the chains slowly start to tighten, their long lengths slipping over and over each other in coils.

The chains pull taut and he’s suspended there, in the dank air, snarling like a mad dog at a door that is just out of his reach.

For the first time in a long time, he slams against the chains, raging and bloody as he thrashes back and forth trying to just get to the door—

Roman, you’re on thin fucking ice.

Look I don’t wanna just hate a side but roman you royally fucked up bud

Yeah I’m definitely mad at Roman

Roman barely suppresses a whine when he realizes where the comments are coming from.

His nose breaks open and blood pours down his face. His eyes swell and darken until he can only squint through it. One of his fingers breaks and the shackle pinches.

Roman I have revoked your rights.

Roman shut the FUCK UP challenge please

After one line making fun of janus is enough to be cancelled, Roman

Even without looking down, he knows red and purple are blooming across his ribs. Roman winces pain as he howls again, trying frantically to get to the door, he’ll wrench his arms out of their sockets if he needs to—

I just hate roman!!! i don’t need a deep reason to hate roman, or anyone else

oh boi did Princey drop to least favorite side REAL FUCKING QUICK

It’s not that I don’t despise Roman he’s just never been my favourite. He’s too prideful, rude and while he does have his insecurities the way he hides them makes me uncomfortable since it’s at the expense of other characters. His treatment of the other sides is so awful.

…is he really that awful? Is…does he…is this…

Is this how it’s supposed to be?

I'm gonna spread my anti-roman doctrine. Fuck Roman. Hate that man

I genuinely hate Roman so. Fucking. Much. Like, can't stand him. Fuck him, I hate him

It’s always roman-hating hours.

A dry sob chokes its way out of Roman’s throat as he curls in on himself, another bruise leaving him gasping on the floor like a gutted fish. The chains let him fall to his knees, chest bared to the merciless door. He coughs. Blood flies out of his mouth and spittle drips down his chin. He coughs again. And again. And again. It hurts. Everything hurts.

He coughs.

The room presses in on him.

The shackles trap him.

Bruises bloom over his body.

He coughs.

This is all his fault, isn’t it? He’s the one in charge of the Imagination. He’s the one who makes sure the sides exist and can interact with Thomas. He’s the one who controls how they respond to turns of phrase.

He’s the one who’s awful to the others. He’s the one who didn’t tell them the truth. He’s the one stuck in this room, in these chains, taking a beating from words and thoughts that he can’t see.

This is his fault.

And he doesn’t know if he can fix it.

Roman gives up.

———————————————————

“Has anyone seen Roman?”

Patton looks up from the floor as Virgil rolls over. “No, I haven’t. Virgil?”

Virgil sniffs and shakes his head. “You asked Remus?”

Logan frowns. “I can’t find them anywhere. Do you know if—“

“Where the fuck is my brother?”

“Nevermind, I found him,” Logan mumbles as he turns just fast enough to avoid Remus barreling into him. “I was just coming to ask you.”

“He was supposed to meet me by the Imagination,” Remus says, bouncing up and down, “we were gonna go exploring. He hasn’t been by all day. Where are you hiding him?”

“I’m not hiding him,” Virgil yawns, “and neither’s Pat.”

“Nope! No princes here!”

“Pocket Protector?”

“No, I need to ask him about tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” Remus throws himself down on the couch. “Where’s Snakey? Maybe he knows.”

“What do I know?”

“Ah.” Logan turns to see Janus striding out from the shadows near the staircase. “We seem to be unable to locate Roman.”

Janus raises an eyebrow and flicks a speck of dust from his gloves. “What an unfortunate situation. My deepest apologies.”

“So you don’t know where he is.”

“Of course I don’t, why would I?” Janus rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’ve checked everywhere for him.”

Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Janus…please.”

“Have any of you even tried his room?”

“Of course we have, that’s where I looked first.”

Janus shrugs. “Then I guess our little prince has wandered away. What a shame.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Maybe he just stepped out for a minute. Why don’t you go look again, L, we’ll check down here.”

“Oh, will we?”

“J, I swear—“

Logan quickly heads back up the stairs as Virgil and Janus start bickering. He turns the corner and is soon faced with Roman’s big red door. He reaches out to knock.

“Roman? Are you in here?”

Silence. Logan sighs and goes to turn away when he hears it.

He stops.

Goes back.

“Roman?”

He puts his ear to the door.

A soft gasp.

“Roman, can you open the door please?”

“L-L—Lo—“

Logan swallows heavily. “Roman, I’m coming inside.”

“L-Logan…”

Logan pushes open the door.

He can feel his face go sickly pale.

Roman is lying on the ground, collapsed in a pool of what looks like blood. His face is swollen, his nose broken, his mouth barely forming the shapes to say Logan’s name. His prince costume is mangled. His wrists are rubbed raw. Even from this far away Logan can see the bruises forming all over his body.

“Roman!”

There are shouts from downstairs. The others are worried. Good. Logan’s going to need all the help he can get. He just has to move first.

Oh, Roman…

“L? L, what’s going on up there?”

“First aid,” Logan gasps, then clears his throat, “we need the first aid kit! Roman’s hurt!”

“What? How’d he—he hasn’t even been in the Imagination yet today!”

“We can figure that out when we’re up there, Remus, go go go!”

By the time the others are already rushing up the stairs, Logan has already crouched down next to Roman’s head, trying to figure out the best way to get him up, off the floor, or at the very least figure out what happened.

“Stay with me, Roman,” he murmurs, petting Roman’s head as his other hand starts to carefully test where it might be hurting, “stay with me, come on…”

“Lo? Lo, are you in here?”

“No, wait, don’t—“

Patton’s cry of dismay quickly followed by Virgil’s curse means he’s too late to warn them. Logan looks up to see their faces drop in absolute shock.

“Where are the others?”

“Uh…” Virgil tears his gaze away from Roman’s crumpled figure. “Remus said he…he has some stuff that would help.”

“And I am of course more than eager to see what our favorite little prince has gotten himself into this time,” Janus drawls, still out of sight, “I’m positively brimming with anticipation.”

Patton still hasn’t recovered. Virgil carefully takes the first aid kit from his hands and rushes it to Logan. An instant later, Janus appears in the doorway.

“My, my, Patton, you look so startled, what could possibly…”

Janus trails off as he finally spots Roman. His eyes widen as he takes in the bruises, the blood, the marks of what look like prison cuffs?

“Oh, god…” Logan blinks and Janus is crouched beside them, his hands hovering over Roman’s broken form as he starts crooning to the prince.

“Oh, honey, what happened to you,” he murmurs, his hands starting to pull away the fabric cutting into Roman’s throat, “you poor, poor thing…”

“Got it.”

Remus appears in a flash, crouching down as well as Janus and Logan start to help Roman unwind from the bloody mess he’s in. Logan glances over; it’s a kit that has more medical supplies than the first aid kit. Bandages, he can see antiseptic, surgical towels…

He catches Remus’s eye and they exchange a nod.

“Where does he need to go,” Janus asks as they start to get Roman upright, “you want him downstairs?”

“Let’s get him to our bathroom, J,” Virgil suggests, carefully getting his arms around the prince’s shoulders.

“Do you think it’s safe to sink with him?”

“Presumably he had to sink out to get back to his room, but I’m not sure it would be wise.”

“So we’ll carry him,” Virgil says firmly, “all of us.”

As it turns out, Remus and Janus can help Virgil just fine. Logan snatches up Remus’s kit as Patton grabs the first aid kit, hustling down the corridor to keep up with the others.

“Lo, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Logan mutters back, “but I…I don’t think it was…the Imagination’s been closed all day, hasn’t it?”

“That’s what I thought too. You don’t think—“

“I don’t know, Patton, I…”

Patton’s firm grip on his arm speaks volumes as they finally get to the bathroom.

The tile is already warm as the others carefully lay Roman down in the big place near the edge of the shower. Logan takes a moment to check what they might need.

The bathroom is one big open space with a tub in one corner, a large walk-in shower area at the other, and two sinks with a wide counter. Patton and Remus have already started setting up the first aid kit as Janus pulls on a different pair of gloves. Virgil still has Roman’s head in his hands, murmuring softly to him.

“Is he awake?”

Virgil shakes his head as Logan sits down. “I can’t tell. He’s looking around but I—he’s not saying anything.”

“That is not completely unexpected,” Logan murmurs, “we have to get him out of his clothes. They’re making it harder for him to breathe.”

“Someone needs to stay by his head,” Remus calls, “in case he wakes up and starts freaking out.”

“I’ve got him.” Sure enough, Janus slips two of his hands gently under Roman’s head as he unclips the back of his collar. “Shh, shh, easy, sweetie, you’re safe now.”

Virgil scoots back and starts tugging on his hoodie strings. Patton, still hovering by the medical supplies, catches it.

“Hey, Virge,” he says, shooting a quick nod at Logan, “why don’t we go make something to eat? Something small, and something to drink.”

“Yeah…yeah that’s a good idea.”

As the two of them leave, Remus kneels by Roman’s feet and curses. “We’re gonna have to cut them off.”

“You mean cut the rest of them off,” Janus mutters, “what happened?”

“You think I’m not beating myself up asking that same thing?”

“We have to get Roman stable,” Logan says quickly, “and that means we have to see what—“

“The damage is,” Remus growls.

“Quite.”

“Alright. Be careful by his wrists.”

“We will.”

“Jan if you drop his head I swear to—“

“I won’t, I promise.”

“…I know.”

“You’re worried about your brother,” Logan whispers as they start peeling the clothes away, “we understand.”

Janus keeps his promise, cradling Roman’s head as the work to get the rest of his prince costume off. Under any other circumstance, Logan admits this might actually be read as amusing. Peeling Roman out of his clothes, however, has never been less devastating.

Every inch they pull back reveals more bruises. Roman’s torso is warm, throbbing, carpeted with horrible wounds. Every so often a piece will stick and Roman winces, prompting Janus to stroke his face carefully, murmuring reassurances that they’re here, everything’s okay, Roman’s safe now.

Remus chucks bruise cream at Logan and they start, methodically applying the cream and bandages. Janus gives them an extra hand where they need it, while keeping up the constant litany of reassurances. Logan comes away confident that nothing is broken, just very badly bruised.

“So what now?”

“He has to rest.” Logan pulls off the gloves, running his hand over the ground to make sure they haven’t spilled anything. “I…I don’t know how long that will be.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

They look around, eyes wide at the strangled whisper coming out of Remus. Remus stares down at Roman’s bruised form, thankfully clear of blood now, his hands trembling as they rest on his knees. Remus looks up at them, his eyes glistening.

“The last time I left him like this it was bad.” He swallows and looks back down. “I’m not leaving my brother.”

Logan looks at Roman. Brave, strong, sweet, kind Roman. Bruised, scared, exhausted, broken Roman. His hand tightens and without thinking he tucks a stray hair behind Roman’s ear.

“He hates it when his hair is out of place,” he murmurs as Janus raises an eyebrow at him.

“We’re not leaving our prince,” Janus says firmly, glancing back at Remus. “Would you like to come sit up here with us?”

Remus shakes his head. “If something comes through that door trying to get him,” he says in a low voice that Logan has never heard before, “it’s going to have to get through me first.”

Logan nods. They take up their watch. Remus’s hands twitch every so often, and Logan sees him lay his hand on an unbruised part of Roman’s ankle when they do with a tenderness that takes him a little aback. Janus can’t seem to stop running his hands through Roman’s hair, making comforting noises every time Roman winces as he breathes.

Logan, well…Logan is trying desperately to figure out what happened.

Roman hasn’t been in the Imagination today. Remus was waiting and he hadn’t seen him.

Roman hasn’t been seen by anyone else all day.

The last place Roman was seen was in his room.

No one else has been in Roman’s room today.

“Logan,” Janus calls softly, “Logan, you’re shaking.”

Logan looks down. Oh. So he is. He takes a deep breath and takes Janus’s offered hand. “I’m…thinking.”

“About…?” Janus indicates Roman.

He nods sharply. “I’m having trouble coming to anything but a most troubling conclusion.”

“What?”

Logan explains. Janus goes pale.

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t want to think that, no.”

“R-ro-Bro,” Remus whispers, “oh, Ro-Bro, you gotta tell us something when you wake up.”

He sniffles.

“Please wake up, Ro-Bro. I gotta…I gotta kick your ass for blowing me off and getting into a fight without me, I gotta—you gotta tell me what kicked your ass so I can go put it in the fucking ground…” He sniffs again, his whole body tense, even as his hand remains gently on Roman. “You just gotta wake up, Ro.”

After a little while longer, Virgil and Patton return carrying snacks and drinks. Remus doesn’t even look as Virgil sets his octopus water bottle at his elbow. Janus murmurs a thanks and eats a little. Logan eats and drains about half of his bottle. Virgil sits at Remus’s side, Patton at his other.

“Has he woken up yet?”

Remus shakes his head.

“He’s probably just sleeping, Remus, he needs to rest.”

“I know.”

“Do we know what happened,” Virgil asks quietly, “at all?”

Logan winces. “Well…”

“…don’t like the way you said that.” Judging by Virgil’s expression, he likes it even less after Logan’s finished explaining.

“Oh, shit.”

Everyone’s gaze instantly snaps to Patton. Listen. Patton doesn’t curse. It’s a thing. When Patton curses it’s bad.

“Patton?”

“Roman…Roman has a thing,” Patton explains, “you know like…like my wings? Or how Virgil gets taller?”

Virgil nods. “Yeah, okay, but those don’t…hurt us, why would Roman’s…”

Janus is the next one to curse. “Of course…the bruised ego.”

Patton nods sadly. “Roman takes, well, it’s not really his choice, Roman is forced to take the brunt of the negative reactions Thomas has. That’s part of his thing.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “Wait, but if this has been happening since…well, since Thomas has had an ego, and we didn’t know about this, then…”

How many times has this happened?

Remus growls. “New rule: no one is allowed to fuck with Roman.”

No one dares disagree. Logan scans over the injuries again. He frowns.

“Hold on…some of these seem…consistent with that judgment, but then why…”

A faint groaning sound snaps him out of his musings. A tense silence falls in the bathroom as Roman starts to stir in Janus’s hands.

“Roman,” Logan calls softly, “Roman, can you hear me?”

“L’gan?”

“Yes, Roman, I’m right here. Don’t try and move too much right now, you’re very hurt.”

Roman blinks up at them, his eyes focusing glassily on Janus, who smiles. He tucks another piece of hair away from Roman’s face.

“Shh, shh, my prince, hold still,” he coos, “you’re awfully banged up, sweetie, just hold still…shh…”

“J’nus? What’s…where is…” Roman’s face swivels back to Logan. “Where am I?”

“You’re on the bathroom floor, Roman, we had to see to your injuries.”

Roman’s eyes go wide and immediately all of them reach out to hold him still as he tries to move.

“Shh, shh,” Janus shushes, “none of that now, sweetie, you’re hurt, calm down…”

“I’m—I have to—“

“You’re not going anywhere,” comes Remus’s voice from behind them.

“Remus!”

“What? He’s not!”

“Yeah, but there’s no reason to scare the shit out of him.”

“I can’t see,” Logan hears Roman’s frantic whisper as he turns to glance at the others, “I can’t—let me—“

“Logan, is it safe for him to sit up?”

Logan nods. “Just take it slow, nothing too fast. It will probably be the best if he can lean against someone.”

“Jan—“

“I’ve got you, sweetie, I’m not going anywhere.”

When Roman is upright, his back against Janus’s chest, only then do Virgil and Patton relax the slightest bit. Remus doesn’t. Logan’s gaze switches anxiously between the two.

“Remus—“ Roman swallows— “Re, are you—are you mad at me?”

“A little.”

Roman shrinks under Remus’s glare. “I’m sorry.”

“Jeez, Ro, it’s not—I’m not mad at you like that,” Remus mumbles, “it’s mainly just—well, our thing is…you know, cat pile.”

“You’re—you’re mad because you can’t lie on top of me right now?”

“Yeah! It always makes you feel better! And now I can’t help you feel better!”

“R-Re—“

Remus lets out a wounded noise and surges forward, careful to avoid barreling into any of the others as he wraps his brother in a protective hug. Janus huffs lightly but stays upright. Roman’s eyes close and his head drops to rest against Remus’s.

“I’m the only one allowed to fuck with you,” comes Remus’s muffled voice, “no one else.”

“I know,” Roman whispers, “I know.”

Logan swallows heavily. “Roman,” he prompts softly, “we aren’t mad at you. We won’t get angry with you.”

“...promise?”

“I promise.”

“Promise.

Janus just squeezes Roman’s shoulder gently. “I promise too, sweetie. Now, will you tell us what happened?”

“I, um…” Roman’s gaze flickers over to Patton. “Have you—um…”

“I’ve told them a little, sweetheart,” Patton says when Roman can’t finish his sentence, “we’ve figured out the ‘bruised ego,’ is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

Roman nods. He turns his head back towards Remus, his face contorted. Logan carefully reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Take your time,” he whispers, “we’re not going anywhere.”

“I have three,” Roman blurts out after a moment.

“…three, honey?”

“Patton has…the wings, Virgil has the height, Janus…Janus…”

“Has the pants.”

Janus lightly flicks Remus’s head, shaking his head fondly.

“Are you saying you’ve got three turns of phrase, Princey?” Roman nods. “Okay. Is one of them ‘bruised ego?’”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay. Are you comfortable telling us the other two?”

Goosebumps rise on Roman’s arms and Janus carefully positions them so Logan can help rub them away. Remus growls protectively and huddles closer.

“…creative block,” Roman murmurs, only for Remus to tense. Remus raises his head slowly.

“Ro-Bro?”

“I, um, my room—my room shrinks and I—I can’t get out the door, I can’t move anything, I can’t breathe, I—“

“Shh-shh-shh,” Janus soothes instantly, “you’re safe, my prince, you’re in the bathroom with us, you’re not there, you’re not there.”

There are a few tense seconds of deep breaths.

“…what’s the third one, Roman?”

Roman looks at his wrists, turning them over as if he doesn’t recognize them. “…shackled creativity.”

Patton clenches his fists as Virgil muffles another curse. Remus follows Roman’s gaze, the line of his shoulders growing tenser by the second. Janus carefully laces his fingers through one of Roman’s hands, Logan lacing his through the other.

“Thank you for telling us, Roman,” he murmurs, “and…I do not know how much this is worth to you, but…we are so sorry this happens and that we could not do anything about it.”

“It’s okay,” Roman murmurs, “it’s my own fault.”

The bathroom falls silent.

“…Roman, it’s not your fault.” Virgil scoots closer. “How—this isn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it? I’m the one that’s the closest to the Imagination,” Roman says softly, completely convinced of what he’s saying, “I’m the one that makes it possible for Thomas to see us…the Sides, the Imagination…isn’t that my job?”

“Not like that,” Logan says firmly, “never like this.”

“Logan’s right,” Virgil says when it looks like Roman’s about to argue, “you’re the conduit for the Imagination, but you’re not responsible for everything that this place does, let alone how Thomas interprets and internalizes stuff.”

“None of this is you, Roman.” Janus rests his cheek against the top of Roman’s head. “None of it. It’s not Patton’s fault he grows wings, it’s not Virgil’s fault he grows taller, and it’s not your fault that this happens to you.”

“You’re missing someone off the list there, Jan-Jan.”

“Remus, I swear to god—“

Remus cackles, throwing his head back as Janus swats at him. Of course, the problem is that they all try and look mildly annoyed at Remus, and yet the instant it makes Roman giggle, even a little, they all have to break character because Roman’s smiling again.

“Seriously, Ro-Bro,” Remus says after a moment, “this isn’t on you. You don’t deserve this or some other fucked-up shit. This is fucked up all on its own. You’re not responsible for this.”

“We’ll talk to Thomas,” Logan says, “about…negative feedback and internalizing things, alright? This isn’t healthy, Roman, it’s not—it’s not supposed to be like this, and it’s definitely not your fault.”

“…okay.”

“Can you say that for me, sweetie,” Janus coaxes, reaching around to cup Roman’s face, “that it’s not your fault?”

“I-it’s not—“

Roman stops. Swallows heavily.

“Go on, my prince, you can do it.”

“…I-it’s not my fault.”

“Good.”

“It isn’t my fault.” Roman’s eyes go wide and something hitches in his throat. “It is—isn’t—I—oh, god—“

They catch Roman as he starts to cry.

“You did so well, sweetheart, so well, I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s okay, Princey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you, my prince, I have you.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Ro-Bro, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

“You don’t have to do this alone, Roman.”

Roman rests there, in the arms of his family, bruised and exhausted, but not broken.

Not anymore.

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

Text

from the bottom of my heart

(Hi @dumpsteramy! I am your Secret Santa, and I have finally arrived with your Christmas gift! 🎅🏼 I hope you enjoy xx)

from the bottom of my heart

For a detective that had - a mere five hours ago - participated in the takedown of one of Brooklyn’s most notorious killers, Jake Peralta knows that he is feeling way too nervous about the tiny parcel that is currently sitting inconspicuously on his kitchen counter.

He reminds himself of this fact, hands obsessively wiping down each surface one last time in preparation for Amy’s arrival - running through his memory bank of various moments of bad-assery - but try as he might; every single time he glances at the box, wrapped in brown paper and too small to be anything but innocent, his heart leaps back up into his throat all over again.

It’s possible, he reasons; as he grabs the last pair of dirty socks off the floor and throws them in the direction of the hamper, that it’s because this year is one of the few times that he’s actually had a girlfriend over the holiday season.

(The reason behind that detail, he’s not entirely sure hasn’t been deliberate, however that’s just a little too much to unpack right now.)

But it’s also possible (and honestly, curse his impeccable detective instincts, because sometimes ignorance truly is bliss) that it’s because of who his girlfriend is this year; and how much he’s already hoping for a hundred or more Christmases together, that his nerves just plain refuse to take a chill pill for a minute or two. (Or was it whom? Seriously. He cannot tell.)

And then, there’s also the minor fact that he’s kinda sorta already completely fallen in love with her - a tiny nicety that he cannot bring himself to say out loud just yet, because that really is a bell that one cannot unring. But there were implications within that little brown box, connotations of many more years together that hasn’t yet been suggested but that he wants to imagine could actually be possible, and right now he could really do with Terry’s magic 8 ball to give him some kind of sign that everything is going to turn out just fine.

Just be cool, Peralta. No biggie if Amy doesn’t like it. Jake winces, head shaking at his own thought; checking on the takeout keeping warm in the oven. He really is a terrible liar.

It’s only the sound of a key sliding into the lock - AMY’S key, because they are dating and have each other’s keys and it really shouldn’t make him this giddy two weeks later but it really does - that pulls Jake’s mind away from his slightly obsessive thoughts, and his face morphs into a happy grin as Amy lets herself in to his apartment.

Her face is flushed from the cold, half hidden behind a layer of scarves and jacket collars, but then their eyes meet and she smiles and oh, he really is the luckiest guy in all of New York.

“Hey! Sorry I’m a little late. Just got completely swept up in that last bit of paperwork, you know?” Letting his front door swing shut behind her, she uses her free hand to unwrap the layers of wool, craning her neck to meet Jake’s welcome home kiss. “But! I made us some cookies for dessert. Santa ones, with lots of icing. You’re gonna love them.”

He gives Amy what he hopes is a convincing smile, helping her slide the last sleeve of her jacket off and casting it on a nearby barstool as her hands wrap around his waist. “Sounds amazing, babe.”

“Mmm. More kisses, please.”

It’s a polite request - honestly, he’d have responded the same even if it been a demand - and as a contented smile lifts Jake’s lips he leans in for another kiss, letting this one linger for a moment or two, purely because he can.

She sighs against his mouth, shuffling closer and planting her palms against his hoodie; reaching up for the zipper as their lips press together once more.

His eyebrows raise as the zipper descends, pulling away slightly as her hands wrap around his now free middle with a secret smile. She dips her head into his neck, that perfect mixture of flowers and ink that he’s come to know as Amy washing over him, and even though Jake’s technically been here for hours, finally it feels like he’s home.

The hug continues for a beat, and despite the fact that he’d probably stand here for hours if Amy only asked, Jake breaks the comfortable silence to voice a nagging suspicion. “Can’t tell if this is a sweet hug from my girlfriend, or a brazen attempt to steal all of my body heat.”

“You know I’m an excellent multi-talker, Peralta. Clearly, it’s both.” Her soft lips press against the base of his neck as though offering payment for his services, and Jake’s grip on his girlfriend tightens. “You’re just so warm, and Brooklyn is so cold tonight.”

“Oh, so this is like a two-for-one deal kinda sitch.”

Amy nods, the soft edge of her chin rubbing along Jake’s collarbone and truly, he could have a thousand more nights just like this.

Her head lifts slightly, sniffing the air before turning her attention back to Jake. “Can I smell Thai Guy’s Tom Kha Kai?”

“You can.”

She grins, giving his waist a quick squeeze before releasing him from her warmth-stealing hug. “Wow. You definitely win Best Boyfriend for today.”

“Best Boyfriend? Noice. If I’d known it was that easy, I would’ve ordered double on standby for future awards.”

Amy grins, chuckling softly before noticing the parcel (because she honestly is the best detective - even if he’ll never say it out loud), letting her hands run along the edges of his hoodie as she pulls away to make a closer inspection. “What’s this?”

His heart has most definitely returned to it’s seemingly new home at the base of his throat, but somehow Jake manages to persevere. “Oh, it’s some-nothing really … just something I picked up and it’s nothing really it doesn’t matter.”

Her right eyebrow twitches up, throwing him that look she gets whenever she senses a lead, and Jake sighs.

“So … I know you know how my mom used to work a lot, since my dad was a leaving jerk who left like a jerk and whatever.” Amy nods, remaining silent. “Well, the holidays always paid really well so I spent a lot of them with Nana or Gina or sometimes just me and the tv.”

“And Die Hard.”

“Naturally. It’s the only Christmas movie worth watching. And we’d make our own holiday day, somewhere in the week, so the whole actual date thing really wasn’t that big of a deal. But … we did have this one tradition, that actually started the first Christmas after my dad left.”

He watches nervously as Amy rounds the counter, using the tip of her perfectly manicured fingers to shuffle the parcel closer to her position, and takes a heavy swallow. “My mom would buy - and sometimes make - ornaments, and put pictures of us from throughout the year in them.” Running one hand through his hair, Jake moves until he’s leaning against the opposite side of the bench. “She said that way, we were celebrating the year that was and making wishes for more of the same. As you can imagine, as time went on the tree had a bunch of photos of her and I. It was actually kinda cool.”

“It sounds really lovely, Jake.”

Nodding, Jake points at the package Amy’s nimble fingers have begun toying with, silently encouraging her to lift the lid as he continues. “Yeah, so … I sort of had this thought that maybe … this year there could be one with us on the tree.”

Giving Jake one last curious glance, Amy lifts the lid of the small brown box, chewing her lower lip as the contents come into view.

With his stomach feeling like it’s dropped to his feet, Jake leans into the counter, waiting with bated breath for Amy’s response; and she lifts the tiny wreath ornament from it’s resting place, letting the trinket spin as a selfie Jake took of the two of them two months ago flickers in front of their eyes.

It’s the silence that’s killing him, the need to explain and deflect and pretend everything is fine too strong, and even though Jake knows he’s rambling, the words just start tumbling out of his mouth. “It’s no biggie, really. Just something that I thought might be cool. It’s okay if you hate it, we don’t need to bother next year, thats if there even is a next - ” The gentle press of two of Amy’s fingers against his lips throws Jake into silence, and she holds them in place as she rounds the corner of the kitchen counter again, only pulling away once she’s by his side again.

“Jake. I think it’s wonderful. I could never hate this.”

With the sense of relief flooding through his veins, Jake manages a smile, tucking the strand of hair that’s fallen from Amy’s work appropriate up-do behind her ear. “Yeah?"

“Yeah. It’s amazing, actually.” Her hands come to rest on either side of his neck, the sheer familiarity and comfort of the move subsiding any linger nerves as she looks up at him with the softest gaze. “A really special tradition, that I cannot wait to continue. And honestly, I just feel so lucky that you’d want to share it with me. Thank you, babe.”

Her lips press against his as she pulls him in for a grateful kiss; and even as his hands slide along the smooth edges of Amy’s back, Jake can’t help but think that if there’s anyone in this kitchen that’s lucky, it is most definitely him. After all, not only does Amy love the tradition, she cannot wait to continue it - and what could be greater than that?

He wraps his arms around Amy completely, pulling her in for a tighter hug as the kiss breaks, and with her chin resting against his shoulder she takes in the rest of her surroundings.

“Hey. You cleaned!”

Feeling a tiny glimmer of pride at her observation, Jake nods to play it cool. “Well, you know. Tis the season, and all that.”

“The cleaning season?” Gasping, Amy tilts her face back up to Jake with a giant smile. “Oh my gosh, can you imagine!? There could be a different cleaning method each day!”

Her eyes are bright, taking on that special sparkly quality that just takes her beauty levels from one hundred to one thousand as she describes all the different products that could be used, and he is most definitely, absolutely, totally and utterly, head over heels in love with Amy Santiago.

“Look, all of that sounds amazing, Ames, and I’m sure one day if you wish really hard it might even come true. But … for now, how about we eat this Best Boyfriend Award winning dinner I ordered and watch some top quality movies on the couch?"

Amy nods, raising one finger in a friendly reprimand. “But no Die Hard, we watched it just last week.”

“It’s a vintage classic, babe! The kind of movie that never grows old.”

Her responding eye roll is good-natured in it’s delivery, a gentle slap landing along the line of shoulder. “Vintage or not, I get to choose the movie tonight.”

Letting out an exaggeratedly defeated sigh, Jake decides that a pre-dinner commiseration cookie is in order, and he lifts the lid to the container as Amy removes their food from the oven.

“Uh, babe … are these the cookies you made?”

“Yeah?”

“They look … neat.” Jake smiles, one that he knows isn’t very convincing, but he’s also not entirely certain that the lumps he’s discovered in the container are actually cookies - even out of technicality.

Amy’s eyes narrow, abandoning her serving of rice to gaze over Jake’s shoulder, jabbing a finger into his spine. “Out with it, Peralta.”

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just … have you ever seen that show, Nailed It?”

Her jaw drops, brows raising in obvious indignation as she reaches for one of the lumps. “Hey! Eat your damn cookie, detective. Or don’t go expecting anything to happen with your candy cane tonight.”

“My candy ca- oh! My ‘candy cane’. Ha. Nice euphemism, Ames.” Winking, he snatches the cookie out of Amy’s protective grip, snarfing it down in one bite. “Mmm, yummy. Don’t mind me, just standing here enjoying this deliciously amazing cookie that my incredible girlfriend made for me with her bare hands and doesn’t taste like a salt lick at all.”

Casting a side-eyed glance at Jake as she returns to serving their dinner, Amy mutters something about how she really thought the extra icing would hide the salt taste; and even though it’s probably completely insane, he feels strangely excited at the thought of many more years pretending to enjoy his girlfriend’s cooking.

The idea of it all - of a mixture of Christmases, Hanukkahs and Noche Bueanas alike filling up their years - makes Jake’s face break out into a stupidly wide grin; and without thinking he reaches for another cookie, this time making no complaint as the salty sweet combination begins to grow on him.

And truly, there could not be any greater sign that he is completely in love with Amy if he tried.

(A few or so years from now, there will be a Christmas tree standing tall in the living room of the Santiago-Peralta home, covered in ornaments and memories alike. Their son Mac will place the very last decoration on the tree - a tiny little sonogram of his soon-to-be-born little sister - and Jake will ruffle his hair and remember a time when all of this had only been an unspoken dream.)

#MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!#I miss yall #returning from my forced hibernation temporarily #b99 secret santa 2020 #peraltiago fic #b99 fic #christmas fluff #peraltiago fluff

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osamusriceballs · 4 years

Text

Christmas Countdown. Day 6. Ojiro Aran.

My life have gone a bit quiet all of a sudden since I met you.

- A series of Atsumu impressions by yours truly. Act 1. “Tsumu in his first year of elementary school pretending he’s got no idea who wet his bed”. - said Osamu loudly, drawing Kita’s attention. Twins decided who would get the top bunk. And they decided that the first who made Kita-san laugh would get the top bunk.

Guys, what the hell? This is already way too much information.

- “I-it wasn’t me! Some old guy I’ve never met just whipped it out and went for it! I’ve never wet the bed before, I swear!” - Osamu was flailing his arms about as he told the story. Kita stood by, looking on without interfering. He really had no idea what’s going on right now. His jacket slid off his shoulders again and fell to the floor.

Nobody wants to know these things! And could you put your jacket on properly?!

- Oh, guys, what’s going on here? - you entered the hall, all eyes immediately turn to you. - Samu, you’ve amazing impersonator's skills. But it’s not very nice to talk about someone wetting his bed.

- Ah, yea… Sorry… - Osamu confused.

- Kita-san, please, put your arms trough your sleeves. I washed all your jackets with a linen conditioner recently. It won’t get crackly, - you picked up Kita’s jacket from the floor, dusted it off, and put it on Kita with cute smile on your lips. He didn’t struggle. - Rin, show us the video, please!

- Sure, - Suna started going through his phone.

- So, let’s watch it together! - you went to Suna, the rest of the team too. Peace finally came to the Inarizaki volleyball club’s gym.

Aran was grateful to God that you existed and joined to Inarizaki volleyball club as a manager. It didn’t take long to fall in love with you.

Your cute smile and laugh, your small hands and feet that look so cute compared to his, the sense of peace you gave everyone, your amazing skills of dealing with twins, your kind heart, Aran was ready to swear that he fell in love with you since your first day as volleyball club manager.

His feelings didn’t disappear years later. And Aran was sure: he loves you, he wants to confess you. It really didn’t matter to him whether or not he had any rivals. Aran just wanted to tell you that he loves you and hoped that you’ll return his feelings.

And now, you sat at his home. Aran invited you, just because he felt that he wanted to meet you, that he wanted to feel this sense of peace one more time. You drunk tea, ate cake, wearing his oversized hoodie because you were cold, and told him some fun stories about Atsumu’s hopeless MSBY life. Aran sat across from you with his chin in his hand, looked at you softly and thought that you’re the cutest person, he has ever seen.

- You know, (Name), - he interrupted you. You blinked and stopped, waiting for his words. - I love you.

____________________

You’re still thinking about the Atsumu story (about how he forgot to tie his shoes and fell in front of a whole crowd of cheering fangirls)- when Aran’s words reach your mind and bring you right back.

I love you.

It echoes through your head, his deep baritone saying these three words in the softest way possible, his hands loosely wrapped around the arms of the chair. Everything about him seems so soft and gentle, his dark eyes have the most sincere expression you have ever seen- and this honest and gentle man just confessed to you.

“Ojiro- I-” you stutter, too overwhelmed by your feelings. You imagined this moment so many times, you couldn’t even count. Silently hoping that he would return your feelings- but at some point you just started to believe that he doesn’t love you back.

He still smiles, while he watches your face and nods his head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know about it, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.”

Your lips part, and your eyes widen in surprise. You know that he truly means every word he just said. He would still be your friend, he doesn’t expect you to return his feelings- that’s just the kind of selfless man he is. But you like him, hell- you love him- and he needs to know.

“No! Ojiro, no! Please don’t say that!”

He blinks surprised, his mouth agape when you suddenly stand up and close the distance between you two with big steps. He involuntarily stood up with you as the gentleman he is, and even though he looks down on you, he still feels small when your eyes gloom with a passion like that. You never looked as intently as that at any of the Miya twins, or Kita-san. It’s only him who could make you feel like this- all these part few years, it was only him, who could make your heart beat faster, and your skin burn with every time he touched your hand. His gentle smile, or the way he always supports you like it’s natural. His kindness, and his infinite patience- you just need him, you just need him to be with you. You need the man you love by your side.

Your heart is beating heavily, begging you to scream out your feelings- and you do.

“Aran Ojiro, I love you too! Please let me be your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks heat up at these slightly embarrassing words, and your lips begin to tremble while you wait for his answer- but he is silent.

A second passes.

Another one.

“Ojiro?” you hesitantly ask, unable to read his face right now- until you see the tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t expect it to turn out like this- I’m not sure what I should say right now.”

His helpless smile makes you laugh- and you quickly wrap your arms around his body. You’re still wearing his sweater, your fingers almost completely covered by the long sleeves- and you feel his arms quickly tightening around your body too. You feel safe and comforted in his arms, like you always did- but now it’s different.

“You could maybe start by accepting my feelings too?” you smile, but your eyes also get teary from happiness.

He clears his throat before he speaks, his hand softly rubbing your back.

“Be my girlfriend then. I promise to do my best to make you happy- just be mine.”

You press your face further into the fabric of his shirt, your cheeks almost hurting from how hard you’re smiling.

“Yes.”

Epilogue:

“You should close your mouth before a bug flies into it, Tsumu.” you chuckle when he looks at yours and Aran’s intertwined hands with a startled expression.

“Are ya- does that mean-” he stutters, but a light smack from Kita to the back of his head shushes him quickly.

“Congratulations. You seem very happy. I’m sure that Atsumu wanted to say the same. Am I right, Atsumu?”

Kita’s glare is burning through Atsumu, and he quickly nods.

“Congrats, congrats!”

“Thanks, Kita-san, Tsumu. I’m very happy- the happiest I could be!”

You look at Aran with a smile, and he returns your smile, his gaze full of adoration. You’re indeed the happiest you could be- and you will always be with Aran by your side.

#december countdown #December Day 6 #aran #aran x reader #tilli 💖#submission

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

How Day6 would comfort you when you come home crying

warnings: some foul language

an: i was informed about how little day6 content there was (ty @justcuz-ican), so here is more these are written for people who prefer physical active comfort rather than being left alone when upset, so i may write a set of reactions for people who are the other way round

all members under the cut :)

Sungjin

he may not be used to openly discussing feelings but that does not mean he doesn’t care

he loves you so much and so dearly that seeing you cry will wreck him

i have no doubts he would drop everything for you if the time called for it

he’s a very good listener, and will remain quiet if you need to vent

he is a fixer, and so when you explain what happened, and if you want help, he will do his damn best to make it all ok again

will 100% sort it for you all by himself (if you don’t want him to, you might want to, like... stop him before he does real quick)

he’s very loyal ok so will take your side no matter what

when it comes to comfort it would depend on how long you’ve been together for

if it’s still early days (by his standards), he will try his best to offer verbal support, and then help you continue with your day to the best of both of your ability

however if you’ve been together for a long while

so long that no one, including yourselves, can see yourself with anyone else

he will be a lot more affectionate on top of the above

that’s when you know that you’ve caught his heart without a catch or caveat

will hold you close in a simple but in no way inferior embrace

and trust me, sungjin hugs are phenomenal

and so these are no different

he’s just so soft, you would be so warm and secure in his arms, sobs gradually coming to a stop as your tears dried upon his shirt

i have a lot of feels for sungjin ok

Jae

cuddles + distraction king

will send little messages of support throughout the day if you choose/are able to text him about how bad things are going

as soon as you come home he will take you into his arms

will dry your tears with his fingers as best he can

seeing you upset has the capability to make him very nearly cry too, depending on what it is and how bad (and his day too)

will take the two of you to somewhere comfortable

whether it be sofa or bed or wherever, just somewhere close and safe

he gets it, you need the security

will settle you into his lap and that’s it, that’s your home now

strokes your hair and will speak no louder than a murmur for you

if you want to talk about it, he will listen and comment where he can

lots of verbal support

won’t leave your side until you stop crying, no joke

if/when you need distracting, those movies are going on bois

or he will play a video game if you’d prefer something different

is not above deliberately being bad and making stupid commentary to make you laugh

by the end the sadness will feel like it happened in another time

jae is just that good

Younghyun

will not stop fawning over you

he’s affectionate anyway

so when he sees you upset he tries to give you as much of it as possible

back rubs, cuddles, forehead and cheek kisses, the full lot

so gentle

so good to vent to because his advice is really sound

he doesn’t want to leave your side, but will make exceptions

and so will bring you pretty much anything and everything to try and make it better

from tissues to snacks to his special hoodies you name it

once you stop crying, your treatment doesn’t stop there

nope, sorry, that’s not how kang younghyun rolls

on the day he will make you food, yes

and then he will coax you into sleep (probably spooning or with your head on his chest, he likes that)

then the next time you’re together, prepare yourself

as even if your day has been fine and all your problems are sorted, he’s taking you out to a lovely restaurant

or taking you shopping and buying the shit you saw in the shop window and didn’t buy for frankly no good reason

he wants the week to balance out at the very least

because he may not be able to fix the actual problems that made you upset, but in a way he can make it up to you

even though its 90% of the time never his fault

overall, get yourself a youngk yall

Wonpil

my babie is a sensitive soul

im not saying he’s going to weep with you when you come home after your god awful day

but will he tear up?

yes

he’s a bit of an emotion sponge i get that and seeing you hurt just rubs onto him

doesn’t know what to do really, so may flounder slightly at times

he’s used to you being quite the rock

but he’s an affection king so prepare to be smothered because he isn’t changing now

will be 100x more gentle though

if that’s possible

...yeah it’s possible

cups your cheeks so carefully as if you’re made of glass

he’ll catch your tears on the corners of his sleeves

and then will proceed to do and give you everything that makes him feel better when he’s upset

so his plushie, his blankets, his food, the lot

and then will make it a special night for you

meaning, the softest night in you could imagine

understands you the best, and will say the right thing at the right time

loyal once again, so will always take your side too

and will hold a grudge

even if the problems are sorted the very next day, if a person caused them, he will not trust them until they give him a good reason to like... ever again lol

even if you insist that they’re not as bad anymore

they’ll just be known as ‘the prick that made y/n cry’ and will get glares from him if they see him in the street

of course if they apologise and prove that they’ve improved then he’s back to being a sunshine

mostly

honestly i think wonpil could be strangely threatening if he really, really wanted to be

tho tbh i am biased bc if i disappointed him once i would cry on the spot so idk

Dowoon

sweet babe

wouldn’t quite know what to do at first

especially if it’s still early days in your relationship

not amazing at talking but will try his hardest

same applies for physical comfort

you may have to initiate if it’s the very first time if you want a hug sorry

but he will learn quickly

and will go from holding you close and secure while quietly listening to you vent

to recognising something is wrong by your text aura alone

and preparing things if he can for when you get home

would make a small pillow fort for you ngl

i then see him making small changes to his behaviour that mean big things

so yes, when your relationship is strong and stable, he will cradle you just how you like

and no kidding his back rubs are really comforting

but for the rest of the week he will be super careful

and so will take on a few more chores despite the fair distribution you have going so far

when walking together in public he will normally hold your hand, but for the few days after he will actually put an arm around you instead

and when at home he’ll definitely sit a lot closer to you

going out of his way to work in the same room or a seat closer to you despite being already set up elsewhere

small text messages throughout the day checking if everything is fine, and if any people that caused you issues have done anything else

he remembers you see

he’ll probably return to his slightly shy and normal self after but it doesn’t mean you’re not important to him

after all, i can see him growing used to moving to join you when you come home, and so that may become a common occurrence once he is sure you want that too

overall, a caring boyfriend, just in a more subtle way

~~~

an: i feel this isnt as put together as my others but i hope its still legible and worthwhile

masterlist

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am-imagines · 5 years

Text

Crazy in Love - Alex Morgan Imagine.

A/N: I’m sorry this took me so long to finish: Anything involving a jealous Alex would be great! Maybe with an at first very oblivious reader. Thanks :) I hope the wait is at least somewhat worth it, anon! <3

Being best friends with Alex happened naturally.

After coming back from a serious injury that put your career on hold, Orlando Pride gave you a second chance to prove your worth on the league. It took you two years to come back, to test the odds and challenge your limits just to play once more. But you found your place wearing Orlando’s jersey, and you wore those colors proudly.

No one could match your skills, and in no time, you turned the league again.

With Alex as your partner at the front, Orlando had a lethal combination. It was unexpected, but exactly what the team needed to escalate on the board.

When Alex went away to the World Cup, you found your rhythm with Marta with ease although it wasn’t the same dynamic like with Alex. At least, not on your mind. Sure, you two still put on a show and did a fine job keeping the Pride on its track, but you missed number thirteen.

You two are really similar; passionate about what you do, hard-working, a little stubborn, and competitive to a fault. People assumed you would clash, but you never did. Your rivalry has been playful, and the only consequence of losing the ongoing bet is who ends up paying for dinner.

Life works in strange ways though, and when Jill called you up to the USWNT for the last match on the Victory Tour, Alex wasn’t there to freak out with you. She’s in L.A. and actually, you won’t get to see each other until she joins camp a day later than you.

It’s not a big deal.

Except that you’re meeting the team on your own.

You’re meeting World Champions and despite knowing them through the league, joining them in Chicago feels unreal. This is also the end of an era, and you have one single chance to make the best first impression. This is your time to shine so whoever comes after Jill knows you’re there.

You didn’t make the World Cup roster, but you focus on the future rather than the past. Your goal is the Olympic team, and if you get one chance now, you’ll make the most out of it.

Joining the USWNT comes with craziness; courtesy of Kelley O’Hara and Emily Sonnett. It helps to have Ali and Ash around; they take care of the introductions which is a good start, but doesn’t make things less overwhelming. Still, it’s surprising how easy you fall in place. It’s almost like you were a part of the National Team from the beginning.

By dinner, you’re engaged in lively conversation with Christen, Tobin and Allie.

At some point, Tobin excuses herself, and as soon as she leaves the spot next to you, someone is already taking it. It has been like that all day long; the girls are curious about you and everyone wants to have a chance to ask you something.

“Did you miss me?”

Your gaze snaps up to meet Alex; already in training clothes and smiling brightly. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. You know if you two were standing, you would’ve tackled her due to your enthusiasm.

It’s been weeks since you’ve been in the same city, let alone sitting next to each other. That hug; the one she reciprocates just as fiercely, is one you’ve craved since the moment she went back to L.A.

“So much,” you admit. “Nothing is the same without you.”

You feel her smile even if you can’t see her face. Can’t blame her when you’re smiling too.

Open displays of affection are relatively new to you, but Alex makes them feel right. So, you do little more than blush when she kisses your cheek before the hug finally ends.

Once Tobin is back, Alex doesn’t let go of the seat. She even puts on a show of holding into your arm as further proof she isn’t going anywhere. The Thorn only rolls her eyes in amusement, but quickly finds an open spot next to Christen.

Even then, Alex pulls you a bit closer while the chatter resumes.

You don’t mind the closeness at all.

You also don’t mind her becoming your shadow until everyone is back on their rooms. You also don’t mind it when she makes her way into your bed and you end up cuddling while you catch up. It’s not something foreign; you’ve had many movie nights in the past that have ended just like this; with Alex being the little spoon as you drift off to sleep.

A soft chuckle escapes you when the next morning, she rushes to sit next to you on the way to practice. She practically body-checks Sonnett in the process. You weren’t lying when you said things aren’t the same when she’s not around.

This experience is crazy, but having Alex with you through it is incredible. You laugh with the entire team and join their silly joke contest. Alex only manages to roll her eyes and groan when you share a particularly awful pun, but you can see the hint of a smile on her lips.

A bunch of nerds can’t practice because of injuries; Alex, Kelley and Ali are some of them. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t a part of training. Pictures are taken, conversations bloom everywhere, and Alex’s arms are around you whenever she has a chance to be close.

She tells everyone willing to listen about your abilities; the fact they’ve seen them while you play on your club doesn’t matter, and you get to show them the extent of your skills when Jill starts a scrimmage.

You’re paired with Christen at first, and no one can stop you. Same thing happens when Rose, Mal and Tobin are placed next to you on the field to try different combinations. You adapt to what Jill asks of you, and you do your best every single time.

Everybody is a little impressed, and a few comments are made about the things you could have done on the World Cup. It’s not like they needed you. After all, this is the Victory Tour for a reason. Before you can say so, Alex has distracted you.

Every day is harder to deny you have a crush on her, and it doesn’t help one bit she’s brushing a strand of hair from your place while telling you how great you did. The blush burns your cheeks, and it isn’t from exertion alone, but you hope she can’t tell the difference. Maybe one day you’ll get the courage to confess; today is not the day.

“You want to go out with us for dinner?” She asks once training is over.

“Of course.”

You heard the guys talking about it not so long ago, and you’re excited about sharing another thing as part of the USWNT.

You head out together; joining the rest while they decide where to go. It’s too late to make a reservation for twenty something women, you’re sure of that. However, google is one magical thing that leads you to the perfect restaurant in a matter of seconds. The team moves like a flock of flamingos or something like that; standing in one leg and looking like clueless birds for at least three blocks; aimlessly following Sonnett.

Then, someone pushes you to the front where the real madness is taking place.

It’s very amusing, but you decide to hang on the sideline while Kelley does whatever she’s doing. You don’t want to ask why she took her shirt off. Nope. You have the feeling that someone is gonna take yours off if you do as much as staring at her for too long.

Thank the Gods for Christen, sweet Christen, joining your side and tugging on your sleeve until you follow her around the corner.

“Are they always like this?” You ask in bewilderment.

“Most of the time, yes.”

Christen offers you a smile, then heads into the restaurant to make sure they’re ready for a bunch of soccer players. And that’s when you realize that it’d be hard to do much without a few adults around.

“Hey, where did you go?”

You smile at the sound of Alex’s voice coming from behind you. A moment is all it takes for her to catch up, but instead of acting like a normal person, she jumps into your back.

This is a side of her you know too well; along the one stealing your hoodies when she stays over at your place. Of course, that doesn’t stop you from almost face planting with the inertia of her jump, but you manage to stay on your feet. The only thing you can do is laugh at her antics, shaking your head in amusement.

“Eh, Christen got me out of there before Kelley started stripping people.”

“I wouldn’t have let her take off your clothes.”

In a way, Alex has kept you safe since the beginning. She helps you deal with most of the pressure, and it’s easy to focus just on the game when she’s next to you. But, if someone is going to stop Kelley and the others from doing something way out there, it won’t be Alex.

That responsibility would probably be Naeher.

“And who’s going to stop you from taking it off yourself?” You ask with a smirk.

“You can always say no to me.”

Except you really can’t.

That’s why she’s still perched on your back; chin resting on your shoulder while you carry her all the way to the restaurant. She has no intention of letting go, and you don’t want the moment to end.

You find Christen waiting for you next to the hostess. She’s one patient soul, but you have the feeling that all hell would break loose the moment she snaps.

The lack of privacy doesn’t seem to bother Alex, she just waves at Christen without letting go. Then, she nuzzles your neck and places the softest kiss there and you almost drop her. There’s no way she doesn’t notice the way you shiver, but she needs to make sure your reaction is to her, so she nuzzles you again.

“What are you doing?”

Your voice is high pitched and strained although it never stops being a whisper. Your face is burning hot, but your hands are firm on her legs to keep her in place. How do you manage not to faint? You’ll never know.

That woman is going to kill you, and she doesn’t even know it.

Alex doesn’t have time to answer when the rest of the team burst into the small restaurant. They fill up the silence with chatter, laughter and even hollering. You can’t even hear what Christen says and she’s standing right next to you.

Two minutes later you’re at the table, and only then you realize that Alex is still on your back. Good. You don’t want her to believe your lack of coolness and massive crush are anything she’d have to feel guilty about. Her actions took you by surprise, and perhaps your neck is more sensitive than you’d like to admit, but none of that is her fault.

“Hey! Stop hogging the rockie.”

You’re not sure who said that; too worried about getting Alex back on her feet while pulling out her chair at the same time. It’s not an easy maneuver, but you manage not to knock all the silverware down. You didn’t expect others to sit next to you, or even want to. It makes sense, they were all over you before Alex arrived.

It’s still amusing to find JJ looking at Alex accusingly while Mal is already occupying the seat on your other side.

You’re the newest member, and the new attraction. Thankfully, T. is still the baby.

“Get your own,” Alex replies without missing a beat. “This one is mine.”

Her words are just playful banter with one of her teammates, you know that. But they still have an effect on you, although you’re not sure where that’s coming from. You like the hint of possessiveness in her voice and the way she immediately holds your hand to drive the point across.

Most of dinner goes away in a blur. You barely notice how Alex never lets go of said hand. You join the conversation sporadically; listening to the stories they have to share instead of sharing your own. Honestly, you prefer it that way.

When you finish your food, conversation lingers. You’re all smiles while Alex joins a conversation with Kelley and flings your hand around as she expresses herself. It’s endearing, and you can’t find it within yourself to let go.

When the guys become too much to handle; too emotionally exhausting for you to engage willingly instead of out of social obligation, Alex knows it. She pulls you into a one-on-one conversation before she suggest a walk back to the hotel.

You’re not too far, and the night is just perfect.

Only then you forget about the rest of the world. She makes you laugh and at some point both of you stop so you can stare into each other’s eyes while talking about everything and nothing at all.

The way back to the hotel isn’t as long as you wish it could be.

She isn’t going back to Orlando until the next season begins, but you made plans to visit her in L.A. She’ll show you around while you get to spend more time with her. You have to finish the season first, and you promise her to do your best while she isn’t around.

The team catches up with you before you make it into your room, and a movie night is planned right away. It’s the best way to deal with the stress pre-game, or so they say.

Alex goes oddly quiet when you accept. Anyone would give it away to tiredness, but she’s not shy about calling it a night if she doesn’t feel like it. However, she accepts the invitation after you do, and then leaves your side to sit in a corner.

Usually, something like that could be brushed off with ease. Not after she has spent the last day latching onto you. The team seems happy she’s finally sharing, and they are all around you before you can ask her about the sudden change.

With a sigh, you focus on the rest of the girls. You want to know them better, and it’s hard to tell if destiny has the USWNT in your future once a new coach takes the control.

The movie catches your attention for a grand total of twenty five minutes. You know Alex is in that room, but you wish she would be closer instead of the furthest corner.

All in all, you have a great time.

When the film ends, you wait a few minutes until most of the girl leave. There’s no need to fight your way out when you can talk with Christen as she gives you some insight on the upcoming match. Chris is sweet as a cinnamon roll, talented and gorgeous. Spending time with her is no chore at all.

And yet, you don’t miss the moment Alex makes an exit. You want to follow her but also don’t want to be rude with your host.

“Go after her,” Christen encourages softly. “You’re the one sharing a room with her and a grumpy Alex is not the easiest person to hang around.”

A chuckle is what you offer in lieu of an answer. Your favorite girl has a temper, and dealing with it can be pretty much like handling a dragon.

A muttered goodnight thrown to a hard chillin Tobin, a quick hug to Press and you’re out of there.

You run down the corridor just in time to avoid Alex closing the door on your face. Instead, she holds it open with an amused smile on her face. That’s a good sign. It doesn’t mean you’ll let her off the hook so easily, but it’s a start.

“Okay,” you say closing the distance between you. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

Alright, she’s playing dumb. She can try, but you know her well enough to see through the facade. Countering her tactic with silence will only make her close up, avoid the topic and pretend nothing happened. You can’t have that; first because she’s your best friend, and second because you two are sharing a room and it’s impossible to ignore it.

“How much did you miss me?”

The question surprises her, but she’s not reluctant to answering it.

“A lot.”

“Enough to keep everyone away whenever they wanted my attention?”

“It’s not like that!” She defends.

You pull her a bit closer because she’s trying to avoid your eyes and you only want to know the truth. Alex seemed upset leaving Christen and Tobin’s room, so you know there’s something bothering her.

“Are you afraid someone is going to kidnap me to dye my hair pink?” You ask with mock shock. “Is someone going to set me up on a blind date if I don’t pay attention?”

“I’m sure more than one of them would like to date you.”

“Like who?”

Your heart beats madly in your chest while you wonder if this is really happening. You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but if there’s any chance of Alex liking you back, you want to know it then and there.

In your mind, everything makes sense. That could be your crush on Alex speaking rather than the objective truth, so you hold your breath while waiting for her answer.

“Christen to start with,” she says bitterly.

“Wait, what?”

Her answer throws you off entirely. You thought she was dating Tobin. Sure, she’s sweet but nothing about your interactions told you she liked you in that way. She was the one telling you to go after Alex when the latter stormed off.

Oh.

“Are you jealous?”

She’s ready to deny it. You can see as much, but the truth is clear on her eyes, so she closes her mouth and nods. You shake your head because this is incredibly stupid. Like every other lesbian, or lady-loving woman out there, you can’t simply talk about your feelings.

“Would it help if I say you’re the only one I want?”

Her expression changes in an instant. There’s a moment of shock while her eyes sparkle with hope. She knows what she wants, and that’s you.

You make her nervous in ways she’s not used to and the way you’re smiling at her doesn’t really help. When she hesitates, you take charge.

It’s impossible not to look at her lips before closing the distance. The first touch is tentative, cautious as you kiss her for the first time. The ringing in your ears is all you hear while one of your hands goes from her waist to her cheek.

You need to feel her. To make sure she’s actually there and you aren’t just having the best dream ever. It takes a moment for her to react; hands going into your hair as she responds in kind. Kissing her is better than you’ve ever imagined. It leaves you breathless, a little lost when you pull apart, but you find home in her eyes; forever changing between blue and green.

There’s a dazed look on her face, and she traps the laughter bubbling out of you with another kiss. You indulge, holding into her while she takes you to another dimension. You’re not the only one craving that kiss, that much is obvious.

“I’ve been flirting with you since you joined Orlando,” she says when you rest your forehead against her.

“I’ve never been flirted with before. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

You laugh at that before kissing her again. Now you know, and there’s no way you’ll let her go.

#alex morgan imagine #alex morgan imagines #alex morgan x reader #uswnt imagines #requested #fulfilled prompt

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weartirondad · 5 years

Text

A Hodgepodge Of Clouds

FF.net I ao3

“Tell me a story.”

It’s phrased like a demand but when Tony blinks down at the kid shamelessly tucked into his side he sees the faintest of question marks reflected in his deep brown eyes half hidden by dark, long eyelashes.

He can see the blue sky through some strands of his curly hair and a peak of red just above the top of his head and he feels his soul settle at the peaceful image.

“I don’t have a story to tell,” he gives back, albeit gently, and reaches out to chase away a pollen somersaulting through the mild evening air before it can settle on Peter’s face.

The boy scrunches up his nose indignantly at the hand so close to his face and almost goes cross-eyed trying to follow the sudden movement but never leans away. He doesn’t even flinch. If possible at all he leans closer, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder and angling it so he can look at the sky soaked in the softest of red.

Tony, on the other hand, keeps watching him and when he sees the sun set and the clouds fly past in his eyes he is certain that his boy holds the entire universe in his eyes. His universe at least.

“Everyone has a story to tell,” Peter retorts with a smile directed at nothing in particular and yet everything all at once. It’s the way he’s been ever since Tony has met him – smiling at the world, giving and shining and all Tony can do is hope that the world will smile back. “Just make one up.”

It sounds so easy when he says it, so confident and trusting and good.

But Tony is not the guy to make up kid- friendly bed time stories. Every story his mind has come up with so far has always ended in catastrophe. Every worst possible outcome will always come true in his head. His demons will always leak into his stories and he’s trying his hardest to keep them away from Peter – to keep the kid as sheltered as he possibly can even when he knows it’s futile with what he’s already seen.

Still, sometimes Peter’s optimism feels like the world has spared him from all the trauma Tony knows he’s gone through and he’s glad. He’s ridiculously glad that the kid can still get up every morning with hope in his eyes and love in his heart. He knows how hard it can be and it goes to show how much stronger Peter Parker is than he could have ever imagined.

With a small sigh he leans down and rests his cheek on top of Peter’s head. “I don’t have a very good imagination.”

“Liar,” Peter scoffs and the eye roll is evident in his tone, “Your imagination is unparalleled. It’s not like you’re leading R&D with someone else’s ideas. Or are you?” he asks mockingly shocked.

“It’s a different kind of imagination,” he argues halfheartedly, watching two shapeless clouds slowly morph together.

“Maybe,” Peter hums, “But it’s not really. And you have to be able to tell stories once you’re a dad, right?”

“I don’t think my newborn will care much about whatever it is I have to say. For all she cares I could be talking about the Henderson- Hasselbalch equation.”

It’s ridiculous but it makes Peter giggle and nestle into him more firmly with the movement so, in his books, he’s pretty sure he’s done something right. “Please don’t do that, Mister Stark. Since when do you talk chemistry anyway?”

“Since a certain someone,” he pokes his side, ��Has started preparing his web fluids in my lab and I have to try to keep him from blowing it up.”

The joke is meant to distract and deflect but Peter, being Peter, doesn’t care much for Tony’s unwillingness to pad into new territory and simply ignores the jab. Instead he releases one of his hands from where they’re intertwined in his lap and points upwards, the borrowed hoodie sliding down just far enough to free his index finger but his thumb stays covered.

“Tell me what you see.”

“A hodgepodge of clouds.”

“That –“ Peter turns and forces Tony to lean back so he can meet his eyes, “Since when have you ever used the word hodgepodge.”

“It’s just a word, Pete.” He wraps an arm around his shoulder and pulls him back in, missing the way his curls were tickling his nose and his every word reverberating through his side just seconds ago.

“It’s really not but it’s also not a point.” He nestles back into his original position easily and nudges Tony, “Tell me a story about the hodgepodge of clouds.”

“Well,” he frowns and looks at the assortment of clouds ahead.

They’re illuminated bright red and the first thing that comes to mind is a fire – an inferno burning through the sky, flames leaking and stretching, unfurling their clutches to swallow his world whole. There’s grey clouds in front of it, like ashes of what used to be scattering around the place. The whole scene makes his blood run cold and his left hand itch. Instead of burying his fingernails into the ball of his hand he smooths out a wrinkle in Peter’s – well, his – hoodie.

“They used to be warm air and now they’re water. The Rayleigh scattering makes sure it looks creepily red and the wind moves the whole thing.”

“For a genius,” Peter starts, “You’re pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Mister ‘I can totally drink while doing a one handed handstand and balance a Lego figure on my feet’.”

“In my defense, Darth Vader made me do it,” the kid has the audacity to giggle like the scream of him falling and landing on his Lego isn’t still echoing through his nightmares every once in a while. “Anyway, since you’re being a disaster I am going to tell you a story about those clouds.”

Before Tony can give some smartass retort, Peter has already untucked himself from his embrace and folds his legs crisscross in front of him, rocking back and forth on top of one of the tallest buildings in New York City.

Frankly, Tony hates it but he keeps quiet, instead reciting all the security precautions he has taken and why this specific kid could definitely not fall off this specific skyscraper.

“The clouds at the front are kind of all grey and dull and sad. Those are the people lacking imagination. Old people, cruel people. People stuck in the past.” Peter shoots him a pointed look but then goes back to focus on the sky instead, “They’re trying to keep everything the way it is, the status quo if you will, trying to hide the bright minds and the hope that’s marching on behind them.”

“But you see,” he smiles softly and plays with the sleeves of the dark blue hoodie, “Where the light is strongest, the grey is already starting to break and it’s obvious they won’t be able to hold them in much longer.”

“They scream love louder than the others can silence them. It’s the new generation marching up, demanding its rights and demanding change. It’s hope that’s spreading like a wildfire in their hearts and eventually it’s going to be stronger than the cold faceless mass of grey. It’s like a dawn of a new era where everything is light instead of darkness.”

“Maybe this is God’s way of showing us that our time will be soon and to keep being hopeful. Or maybe,” he shrugs almost bashfully,” it’s just a really beautiful hodgepodge of clouds.”

“Or maybe,” Tony weighs the words on his tongue, meeting the kid’s eyes and thanking whatever God or universe of fate it was that made them meet, “Maybe you are right and it’s hope. I like your story.”

“You do?”

“Well, except for the fact that apparently I’m part of the faceless grey mass that is trying to kill the hope. Yes, I did.”

Peter laughs, open and young and faithful, “Oh, you’re not. You just try to act like it sometimes but I think you’re one of the brightest lights and you’ll always fight for a better future, Mister Futurist.”

Without looking he leans back, trusting Tony to make sure he lands with his head in his lap and he curls into himself on the hard concrete like it is a mattress, cushioned only by the loose sweatshirt, facing the same direction again to keep watching the slowly moving clouds with a small yawn.

Tony joins him, fingers finding a spot just right behind Peter’s ear and falling into a familiar pattern of untangling his curls.

“Next story is on you, by the way.”

“I’ll try my very best.”

When he looks up again the grey clouds have parted and scattered and the red has turned into a hopeful yellowy-orange and he promises himself and the kid slowly drifting off to look at the world a little more like Peter does from now on.

here’s the clouds I saw that forced me to sit down and write this (those are like phone pics taken by someone who’s got no clue what they’re doing, don’t judge):

#irondad #irondad fic #iron dad #iron dad fic #tony stark #peter parker #some cloud watching #fluff #story telling #josis fic #a hodgepodge of clouds #i also learned a new word today and im not sure im using it correctly but i also don't care much

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qtyanan · 5 years

Text

Innocent

anon request - 1. he wants to lose his virginity, but not just to anyone.

warnings: virgin!SF9 Inseong, dirty talk, oral sex, friends with benefits (i guess??)

a/n: wow this got long... I’m just in love with virgin inseong for some reason QQ

You and Inseong had been friends for as long as you could remember. Over those years, you have been with several boys, you’ve experimented a lot sexually, but Inseong... He hardly knew how to touch himself. You always made fun of him for being such an innocent person, calling him a virgin while you were fighting, and he hated it - but he never let you know that. He was embarrassed that he was so inexperienced, it was so bad that several girls have left him for not knowing what to do.

He’s had enough of it.

“You... you want to what?!”

You were sitting against your pillows as Inseong was laying down on your bed, and his face was almost as red as the hoodie he was wearing. No matter how close you two were, you never thought he would ask you this.

“I-I’m tired of being a virgin, Y/n... I just... I just want to try some stuff.” He covered his face with his sleeve to avoid your deep stare. He feels like he could cry from this awkward silence, his embarrassment almost painful to him.

After you don’t say anything for a while, he mumbles, “You can say no. We can just pretend this conversation never ha-”

“I’m not saying no!” You shocked him with how defensive you suddenly were, and you were kind of shocked yourself. You couldn’t explain it, but the thought of taking his virginity made your body heat up. Being the first one to see him naked, the first one to show him what an orgasm is... It made you oddly excited.

He tilts his head to the side to look at you. “But... You’re not saying yes?”

For the first time in this conversation, you finally look him in the eyes.

“I’ll do it. I’ll help you - now, if-if you want,”

His eyes go wide and he’s filled with a new excitement. He’s really about to experience this new feeling that people have talked to him about.

He lifts himself up and leans over to you on his needs, staring intently. “Are you sure?”

The cute, innocent look on his face gives you a weird, sudden burst of confidence - something you knew how to do that this know-it-all doesn’t, and you loved it.

“I’m sure, Seongie. I find it so adorable, finally being able to take care of you. Just the thought of taking your innocence... God.”

The words spilled before you could think. The way you spoke and looked at him made his chest tighten, and he swallowed loudly.

“You want me to take are of you, Seongie?” Without hesitation, he nods and leans forward even further with his hands on his knees. When you reached up to pet his cheek, he leaned into your hand like a lonely puppy. It made you smile, he was just so cute.

“Have you had your first kiss, yet?” He shakes his head no and frowns, but you just give him a comforting smile.

“It’s okay...” You stared at his plump, pink lips, and you couldn’t keep yourself from leaning in and giving him a soft little kiss. His lips felt just like how you imagined - they were the softest thing you’ve ever touched. You wasted no time going in for a longer kiss. Each second your lips were together, he became more and more needy, and he had no problem deepening the kiss. He pressed his fingernails into his knees as the kiss got hotter and messier until you finally pulled away to look at his swollen lips.

“You’re a good kisser, Seongie.” You complemented him, which he smiles at. “Do you want to put your hands on me?”

He nods slowly. He take his hands in yours, guiding them to your hips, and immediately presses his fingers into the soft skin. He gives you cute little kisses, but then he pulls away with a whine.

“Y/n... I want to try something.” His eyes flicker down to your shorts, and your heart flutters at the thought of what he wants to do. You smile sweetly and nod, laying yourself down against the pillows, guiding him to rest between your legs.

He started kissing you again like he couldn’t get enough of your lips. His hands had a mind of their own, wandering over your hips and sides, massaging you softly. You pressed yourself into him, smirking when you feel his semi-hard member dangerously close to your core.

“Can I take these off?” He runs his fingers over your shorts, and you nod, lifting yourself to remove the fabric. He tosses them to the side, his eyes glued to the black, lacy fabric you were left in. He leans back and looks at your body while massaging your thighs.

“You can touch me, Inseong,” you let out a breathy chuckle, causing him to give you a dorky smile. He runs a finger over the drenched fabric which gives you a shiver. His soft touches made you crave more from him, but you also wanted him to take his time.

After a little bit you urged him to take off your panties, and his eyes went even wider at the sight of your soaked pussy - you didn’t realize how wet you had gotten until the air touched you and it made you shift your hips. You laughed when he kept staring, then you tapped the skin above your clit to urge him to lower his head to your heat. He finally does, setting your legs over his broad shoulders as he got a closer look. He just couldn’t get enough of this pretty pink, but then he finally remembered what he wanted to do.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours as he gave a little kitten lick along your heat. He licked more desperately like you were water in the desert.

“Oh my god, you taste so good,” he muttered, licking more and more at you until he swirled his tongue around your clit. He took note at how your body twitched when he touched the bundle of nerves, and he wrapped his lips around it and sucked, pulling a small moan from you. He worked intently on your pussy until he was making lewd noises, making you even more wet.

“How are you so good at this?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from him. “Use your fingers too, curl them upwards inside me,” You describe to him, awkwardly making a come-hither motion to imitate what he should do. He does what he’s told, slowly pushing his middle finger into your hole, curling his finger perfectly into the spot at made you whine out loud. He smiles into your clit and speeds up his finger, your back arching when he adds another finger.

His energy never dwindled, and you the familiar heat start to build in your stomach.

“Inseong... Y-You’re gonna make me cum... Please don’t stop,” You grip his hair tightly, pushing him desperately into your core.

Your moans and whimpers grow higher and more intense, and your thighs started to shake at the relentless work of Inseong’s fingers and tongue. He worked you through your orgasm, and he slowed down only when you started to flinch at the slight over stimulation.

“Oh my- fuck...” You gasp like you’ve been holding your breath for a minute, and he licks off his fingers while laughing.

“Did I do well?” He looks up at you with sweet eyes, an innocent look on his face like he didn’t just eat you out like his life depended on it.

“Oh my God, you did so well...” With shaky hands, you lift yourself up and pull him to your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Now I want to show you something.”

His eyebrows perk up, and he lets you push him until he was sitting on the side of the bed. His eyes went wide again when you kneel down between his legs.

“Oh my God... Are you really gonna...?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Y-yes!” he nods nervously, and you hold back a laugh. You tug on his sweatpants and boxers until they were all the way off, and you couldn’t help how your jaw dropped. His dick was bigger than you thought, the tip an angry red like he’d been dealing with a hard-on all day.

“You got really hard just from eating me out, huh?” He bit his lip and laughed awkwardly, gripping the sheets, waiting for you to do something other than admire his size.

You take it in both of your hands, your cold fingers making him flinch and gasp. You rub a finger over the slit, spreading his precum over the swollen head. Such simple touches, nothing in comparison of what you had planned, made his breathing uneven. You take the head into your mouth, sucking on it lightly, making Inseong hiss and grip the sheets even harder. You gather your spit and slick the length before taking in as much of his cock as you could. He lets out a pornographic moan as you work your tongue along the shaft, the deliciously dirty noises coming from his lips sending heat waves through your body. It doesn’t take that long before his breathing becomes frantic and his hips lean into your mouth.

“F-fuck... I think I’m gonna cum-” He lets out a strained moan, cumming a huge load into your mouth, which you don’t hesitate to swallow. He gives you a dazed look with a lazy smile and a small laugh.

As you hold his length in your hand, you realize something - He doesn’t go soft. His dick is still rock hard, even after cumming so much at once.

“You’re still... wow...” You pump the length in your hands. The way you look at it hungrily, it gives him a strange amount of confidence.

“Y/n... I want to know what it’s like to be inside you.” His voice is so low that it makes you shiver.

You give him a small smirk and push yourself up off the floor. “Lay down.”

He does so, scooting back so he’s laying his head against the pillows. He stares at you as you straddle him, rubbing your drenched heat over his dick. He grips your hips hard as you lower yourself onto his length. His size made your core burn, but it quickly turned into thick pleasure.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking tight... You feel so good...” He presses his head back against the pillows and closes his eyes. Without even processing what he’s doing, he fucks up into you hard, but slowly.

“How does it feel, fucking a pussy for the first time?” Your words make him groan, snapping his hips harder into you.

“It feels so good, fuck, I can’t believe it feels this good...” He pulls you down against him, continuing to fuck into you as he kisses you hungrily, groaning into your mouth. He reaches under your hoodie and touches your breasts for the first time, gripping the supple flesh in his palms, suddenly addicted to the way they feel.

You feel him start to twitch inside you, signaling that he’s going to cum soon.

“Are you gonna cum, Seongie? You want to come inside me for the first time ever?” You reach down and rub at your clit, causing you to tighten around his girth.

“Ah- fuck, yes, I wanna cum inside you...” He thrusts into you at an intense speed, and you feel your body grow even hotter, your orgasm coming and hitting you like a truck.

Fuck, you swear you’ve never cum so hard in your life. You let out a weak scream into Inseong’s neck, his thrusts growing sloppy as you got wetter from your orgasm. He presses himself deep inside you as he cums, making you let out a weak moan at the feeling of him filling you up.

With him still pressed inside you, growing soft, you both stay still for a long moment, just listening to each other’s heavy breathing and feeling each other’s heartbeat.

“Oh my... wow...” You breathlessly laugh and so does he, finally slipping out of you and laying you beside him.

“That was really fun, Y/n.” His casual words making you laugh loudly, hiding yourself in your hoodie.

“Really thank you,” He gives you a sincere look, rubbing your sides and thighs tenderly.

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

He falters a little bit, but nods. He forgot you two were only friends. But now he remembers that you only see him as a friend. He suddenly regrets this, because it blossomed some feelings in him towards you.

“Yeah... best friends.”

#sf9 #sf9 smut #kpop submissions #kpop #kpop smut #kim inseong #sf9 inseong #kpop multifandom

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virgilsinferno · 5 years

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SPILLR » CHAPTER THREE

important :: this is a horror fic and might contain triggering content. proceed with caution.

tw :: nightmares, death, corpse

word count :: 3145

notes :: uh yeah,, there are loceit and logicality stuff in this chapter and analogical in the previous ones,, but there will be no endgame ships nor will there be romance between the 5 of them.

intro || 1 || 2

Lately, Dmitri has been feeling ill. Like his immune system’s getting weaker every day. He thinks it’s nothing to worry about though, and green tea helps from time to time. Yet even when he’s not feeling to well, he still refuses to sleep. Logan tells him it’s because of circadian rhythms. He doesn’t know what it means, but if he wanted to know, he can always ask Logan.

School life was stressful for him due to his popularity. Everyone adored him and constantly bothered him, all because of the fact that he’s kind of popular on the internet. It wasn’t his fault, really. People simply loved the content he posted. From the latest gossip to the recent breakups, he knew it all. And he delivered the news so eloquently, people took his word for it. Not everything posted on the internet is real. He’s just trying to have some fun by rewriting the tales that have been passed down from person to person. He guesses having fun also had its consequences.

Almost the entire school had his number. He doesn’t know how they get it, but he keeps changing it just to be sure. So when he gets the 3rd call that morning, he had his doubts. Upon seeing the caller ID, he let out a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens it wasn’t one of those creeps that keep trying to ask him out on a date. It was only 3 in the morning, and yet 2 people have already started annoying him. At least it was Logan who called. He could never annoy him. If anything or anyone dares to hurt his friend, he would lead an army of followers right to their doorstep and ruin their life.

Hey, he cared about Logan immensely.

“Hey Lo.” He greets, taking a sip of his tea.

“Are you free right now?” Logan asks through the phone. Dmitri chokes on the tea and has a coughing fit. He sets down his tea on his bedside table. It takes a few seconds for him to stop coughing.

“Yes. Are you asking me on a date?”

On the other end, Logan’s eyes flew wide in shock. He somehow manages to keep his cool and a smirk appears on his face. “No. Why, do you want me to?”

“Hell no! Shut up.”

“If you say so. Can you come over right now?”

“Yeah sure, gimme a sec. Be there in 10-ish? Should I bring anything? Flamethrower… sword… you name it.”

“Just yourself.”

“Gotcha.”

He ends the call and rolls off of the bed, landing on the floor with a thump. To him it sounded urgent, so he threw on a leather jacket over his plain yellow shirt and put on the first pair of jeans he saw.

The window had a tree branch near it, so he could get out and get back in through the window with ease. Logan didn’t live too far, which meant he didn’t have to sneak into the garage and get his car. At that moment, he felt incredibly grateful for all of the working out he’s been doing. The faster he can run, the more trouble he can cause. And also, he’d feel less worn out whenever he sneaks out of the house to go see Logan.

7 minutes later, he arrives at the front door and rings the doorbell. Usually, he’d ring it 3 times. One long ring followed by two short ones. It was his own way of letting them know who’s at the door. But this time, Logan opened the door right after the first ring and dragged him in.

“Lo, you okay? You look spooked.”

“I’m good. We should get going, the others are waiting for us.”

“Others? Wait, what?”

“Yes, and we have important matters to discuss.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

They head to Logan’s room, thoughts of the worst possible things that could happen already forming in Dmitri’s mind. Why does he have a bad feeling about this?

“You’ll be fine.” He says, patting him on the shoulder. Dmitri nods. He’ll be fine.

As soon as he walks in the familiar room, he could feel eyes on him. It was a normal thing for him, but there’s always been a slight feeling of discomfort. He only loves the attention he gets when he wants attention.

“It’s you!” says one of them, the one in the purple hoodie. “You’re the guy with the yellow eyes in my nightmare!”

Okay, what? That, he wasn’t expecting. Better to be the guy in someone’s nightmare than to be the guy who’s internet famous, right? Logan gives purple hoodie guy a warning look.

“Sorry, that was rude. The name’s Virgil, man.”

“Virgil,” he repeats. “what an odd name. I like it.”

That sounds familiar.

The guy which Dmitri now knows as Virgil visibly becomes paler. He doesn’t know how to react to this, nor does he know if he should do anything. Was it something he said? He hoped not. The guy with the gray cardigan on his shoulders comforts him.

“Listen man, this might sound weird and all, but that’s what you said. In my nightmare thing. Kinda freaked out right now.”

Dmitri nods in understanding. “I get it. Sometimes I get nightmares that come true as well.”

He realizes what he just said and his right hand immediately covers his mouth. Too much information. That’s when he also realizes that he had forgotten to put in his contacts. Which meant that they could see his real eye color—a mix between light gray and blue.

“Uh, at least you don’t have yellow eyes?”

“Yeah about that… Virgil, right? I seem to have forgotten to put on my contacts before I left.”

“So you can have yellow eyes if you wanted to?”

“If I wanted to. Don’t worry, I won’t use yellow contacts if we are to meet again.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Now, let’s discuss the matter at hand.”

As he was about to continue, Patton’s phone rang. He excused himself and went outside of Logan’s room to answer the call. It was his mom calling. Logan proceeded to catch Dmitri up on things.

“Hey mom!”

“Pat, dear, where are you? We’re worried sick about you!”

“I’m fine mom, I’m at a friend’s place right now. I didn’t want to go home yet ‘cause Dallon might come looking for me there and we’re sort of not on good terms right now. I’ll be back for lunch, I promise!”

“Oh honey, has no one told you yet? Dallon went missing four days ago. His body was found by the river yesterday at 6:50 pm.”

Missing?

… Body?

There was a sudden feeling of suffocation, yet Patton was aware that he could breathe just fine. He knew he was alive, he had to be. Didn’t he call him recently? That means he’s not dead, right? He heard his voice through the phone, he’d know that voice from anywhere. There’s no way he’s dead. Right?

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Yeah mom. I… I have to go.”

Patton ended the call and ran back into the room. He plopped down next to Virgil and put his knees to his chest muttering a few incoherent words. They all stopped what they were doing to try and comfort Patton, even though they had no idea what was going on.

“I-I’m not imagining things, I can’t be. I heard him. I’m not imagining things.” He sounded so confused and the others weren’t sure if they should give him some space momentarily or let him talk it out. Everything was going too fast and they had no time to process the situation.

“Virgil! You were there, you heard it too, right? He was calling me, he’s not dead. You know that too. He was calling and you were next to me and you heard us talking. I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Patton, I uh… yeah, someone was calling you. Could you talk slower please?”

The room fell silent.

“Dallon’s dead,” Patton whispered. It was quiet, but loud enough for the rest of them to hear. “He’s been dead since yesterday. But he called me so that means he’s not dead, right? I don’t want him back, I really don’t, but he called me and now I just have to believe he’s dead?”

“Still confused!” Roman groaned. Of course he’d be the most clueless one out of all of them.

For a moment, Dmitri’s eyes switched from light gray to brown. It was fast enough to think of it as nothing, but what he said was quite worrying. “Not everyone you know is real.”

“W-what?” Patton asked, gripping the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie.

Dmitri tilted his head. “What?”

“I’m all for the spooky stuff, I truly am, but I don’t understand anything! Please, don’t leave me out of this adventure of a lifetime!”

Brown eyes gazed into Roman’s— brown eyes that he knew were once a different color. Though he really never got a good look at Dmitri’s face, so he wasn’t sure if his eyes did change colors. Then again, he did mention something about contacts but he hasn’t been paying that much attention to anything, really. Something told him he’d better stay out of this entire thing.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be a part of this.” said Dmitri in a stern voice.

The lights began to flicker and Dmitri’s eyes began rapidly switching between light gray and brown. He grabs Virgil’s arm and pulls him closer to him in a harsh manner. He leans dangerously close to his ear, and in the softest voice he could manage, he whispers: “You know too much. All those theories in your head are absolutely right. I can’t keep this up, it’s bound to find out. Don’t worry, I’ll get all of you out. Eventually.”

Utterly terrified, perplexed, and stressed were only a few words that could describe how Virgil was feeling. He gives Dmitri a weak nod and wraps his hoodie around him even tighter. As soon as the lights stopped flickering, it changed from a warm white color to a disturbing red color, bathing the entire room with the color red. Roman, though full of fear, got off of the bed to get out of the room and make himself a salad despite his brother’s warnings.

The door wouldn’t budge so he was forced to sit back down on the king-sized bed and snack on the cookies til the lights were back to normal. Logan only cared for all of their safety and wouldn’t want any of them to be attacked by whoever was messing with them. Surely, they’ve got to be inside the house. Yet the look on Dmitri’s face said otherwise. He appeared to be calm, but he was shaking. Virgil on the other hand was breathing heavily, and Patton was trying not to cry.

The light flickered once more, making it dark for a fraction of a second then returning to its previous state. They all sighed in relief. Now that that was over, Logan got up to check if there were any people inside the house that may have messed with their lighting and if there were any possessions stolen. There was just one tiny problem.

“Hey uh, where’s Dmitri?” asked Virgil, who was doing his best to keep his breathing even. He was a hundred percent sure that he was there a moment ago. They would be able to feel it if someone were to get up, seeing as they were all sitting down very closely to each other. It was almost like Dmitri had disappeared in thin air.

“No one is going to leave this room until I am sure that it is safe to do so.” Logan announces to the remaining members of the group.

As if it couldn’t get any weirder, their phones all went off simultaneously, and the television was switching through channels at a blistering speed. A familiar face shows up on TV. It was Dmitri. His irises were now yellow and he looked scared. Anxious, even. There was nothing but darkness behind him. Everything was so difficult to understand and there were a thousand thoughts that were overlapping over each other. It didn’t make any sense.

“I’m dreaming, it’s okay it’s just a nightmare. It’s just a dream.” Roman repeated over and over to himself.

“I don’t have much time,” Dmitri starts, looking around nervously before continuing. “I’ll do my best to get you all out. Just please don’t look at it in the eyes for any longer than 10 seconds. I wish you all the best of luck.”

The television turns off and their phones stop making noise. Roman is the first to speak. “What was all that about?”

A loud crackling sound is heard, followed by the deafening sound of static. Then the power went out. Usually, one would still be able to make out the figures of whatever is in a completely dark room. Or at least be able to feel any objects that were littered around.

It was entirely pitch black. Like when one would close their eyes and be met with absolute darkness. It no longer felt like they were sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Logan?” Roman called out, reaching his arms out and feeling around for any sign of life.

“Here!” His brother responded. Did he hear it on the left or on the right?

It was clear that the brothers were in close proximity to each other. Virgil on the other hand, found that he was slightly farther away due to the voices barely being heard. He took out his phone from his pocket and used it as a flashlight, though not much was accomplished. Everything was still pitch black. He walked around for a bit—a desperate attempt at finding a way out. No luck. Instead, he had tripped on something. Or rather, someone.

Virgil shone a light at what had caused him to trip. A body. He didn’t know if the person was dead or not, but they sure had a familiar face. Well, it did have a rotting smell so he supposed it was a dead body. It was a face he had seen around before, though he couldn’t pinpoint where he had seen it. The anxiety was starting to kick in. Its head shifted to the right, allowing him to observe its face more.

Its eyes flew open.

“Holy fuck.” Virgil kicked it in surprise and ran as far as he could away from the seemingly alive corpse. It was so dark that he had not seen that there was someone in front of him, causing him to bump into the person. He pointed his light at the person’s face which made them squint. It was Roman.

“Watch it, Captain Brood.” He sneered.

“You’re in my way, Roman Numerals.” Virgil retorted. “Where are we?”

“Definitely not in Bill Nye the stoic guy’s room, that’s for sure.”

Someone crashed into Virgil, making him bump into Roman once more. They could tell it was Patton right away, because of the high-pitched squeal he made when he saw it was the two of them. Logan was with him as well, holding Patton’s hand to make sure he doesn’t run off and get lost even more.

“The whole group is here! Let’s go, my entourage!” Roman exclaimed as he took the lead. Logan, Patton, and Virgil followed behind him, with Patton refusing to let go of Logan’s hand. Just in case.

“L, how do you suppose we get out?”

“That is for us to find out. Are you alright?”

“M’not on the verge of a panic attack. It’s strange, I feel like I’m being watched but it also feels like I’m safe.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing.”

The four of them continued walking, following wherever Roman decided to go. It’s not like they know where they’re going either, so they might as well take a chance. Eventually, they come across a door. Roman puts a hand on the doorknob and faces Logan, probably asking for permission first to open the door. His older brother nods. They all silently pray that it’s the way out.

It’s a…house?

More specifically, it was a freaking huge house reminiscent of the one in Layers of Fear. Oh for goodness sake, out of anything that the dark void could possibly bring them to, it puts them in a freaking video game. Virgil groans upon realization and picks up a cassette tape that was randomly laying around. He attempts to throw it at the wall out of frustration, but was stopped by Patton.

“Wait! I found a cassette tape player, maybe this is a clue!” He says, taking the tape from his friend.

He plays the tape.

“Hello? Hello, hello? I’m kidding. This is Dmitri. I see you’ve found the first clue. Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. Doing my best to get it away from you guys as possible. Focus on finding a way out, and don’t split up. It’s going to use your fears against you, and you’re all probably in the first stage right now.”

They all look at each other with accusing stares.

“So which one of you is afraid of this game in particular?” Roman asks, pointing to the other three.

Patton raises his hand slowly. “The painting is scary!”

“This is fine, I’ve played this before. Just don’t wander off.” Virgil said as he gave a knowing look at the other three.

The layout of the house wasn’t how Virgil remembered it, but it has been a while since he had played it so he wasn’t entirely sure. It seemed to have elements from different games he had played, though. He was wondering how a simple social networking site could put them in so much danger when he came across a piece of paper hanging from a strand of spider silk. Logan takes it before Virgil could.

Similar to the first note they had gotten, it had a drawing of an eye. In the center it had a message. Logan reads it aloud.

“You should have read the privacy policy.”

“No it doesn’t!” Virgil scoffs, taking the piece of paper from Logan and reading what it said to the others. “You know too much.”

Roman peeks at the paper, frowning when it obviously didn’t say both those things. He snatches it from Virgil and clears his throat before speaking. “You were better off clueless.”

And of course, it wasn’t the same for Patton. Roman shows him the message, trying to prove that he had the “real” message. Patton reads it for the rest of them, a shiver running down his spine upon uttering the words that were written in such a familiar handwriting.

“I didn’t think you’d last without me. I see now that I was wrong. We’ll meet again.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist :: @ai-incarnate @anon-e-has-a-tmblr @baddeceit-ohsorrydeceit @but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @captainlilithrouge @cats-fandom-universe-room @cryptidcherrry @deceit-is-a-lil-bitch @comicsimpson @easyidentification @effortiswhatmatters @human-being-kinda @ilovemygaydad @insanetentacles @keeshy-ekho @lemon-towns @lesbian-aesthics-are-my-aesthic @lokisuggests @lopaviro @lucifer-just-needs-a-hug @mychemicalpanicattheemo @nottodaylogic @prplzorua @roanoaks @rosepyxels@starrycari @strickenwithclairvoyance @sanders-sides-rebloger@suyun-doo @therealmoshar@theultimatemomfriend @unicornlogansanders @what-even-is-thiss@whizzie72 @why-should-i-tell-youu2

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #ts fic #fanfic #human au #horror fic #SPILLR #tw glitch

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kryssiesbookofselfinserts · 5 years

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I just imagined myself wearing a hoodie worn by Caduceus and... and it might be heaven.

It’s super big on me for one. It’s almost like a dress on me, and the sleeves always flail and the fabric is just the softest?? It’s a light teal and there’s a pale pink flower motif dotted all around the fabric.

It always smells like tea and herbs and even has a slight musky scent like after it rains.

He let me wear it once since I didn’t wear a jacket on a day it suddenly rained. I was gonna give it back to him but he told me to just keep it and use it whenever I feel cold.

Also, the pockets? The pockets hold so much stuff! Best hoodie ever

#kryssiesbookofselfinserts #selfship #;;Arizona Ice Tea Time (Caduceus Clay)#;;tea for two #;;important notes (headcanons)

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supportive-house-shoes · 3 years

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Our Favorite Sustainable Loungewear Picks

Thanks to the work-from-home life, loungewear is a staple for most wardrobes now. More than ever before, people today are looking for ways to disconnect from work and the hustle, and it may not always involve a change of location - so a wardrobe change is a must!

Today we’re talking about picking sustainable loungewear that gives both you and the environment a big warm fuzzy hug. But what’s been up with the loungewear trend these days? Is it just loose clothing or is there more to it?

Loungewear go-to’s usually include joggers, pullovers, comfortable pajama sets, onesies, and even bralettes. Extra comfy loungewear may be made using touch-centric fabrics like textured yarns with fluffy detailing to enhance the comfort and coziness of that item of clothing. But generally, ‘bare’ or back-to-basics type of skin friendly fabrics made of soft, breathable materials are key.

So, since our tight denim jeans, nice tops, and flowy dresses make their appearance a bit less these days, let’s give ourselves a break and explore the world of comfort clothing (sustainably, of course!)

1. TENCEL™ LiteBralette by Organic Basics:

The triangle bralette is taking the comfort lingerie world by storm, and our favorite of the lot is this masterpiece by Organic Basics. It’s made with TENCEL™ Lyocell, an eco-friendly wood pulp fiber that is designed to last. We always recommend investing in essentials, and this bralette is definitely on our list because what’s the point of having a comfy t-shirt, if you’re uncomfortable underneath?!

2. Hemp Blend Easy Tee by Pact

Not only is this tee super comfortable, it’s made with organic cotton. In fact it has no toxic chemicals and takes 91% less water than conventional cotton to make! The design is simple, a never-fail scoop neck and short sleeves plus a loose fit that won't weigh you down, no matter where the day takes you. And finally, a t-shirt with a pocket! We already feel so much more relaxed.

3. The Softest French Terry Cropped Hoodie by Summersalt

The website tells us to ‘Imagine your best, worn-in t-shirt had a love child with a cozy blanket’ and we’re all about it! This adorable cropped hoodie is made with eco-friendly TENCEL™ as well, and is loose enough to keep you comfortable, without looking clunky. Plus, we love Summersalt because they’re an EU Ecolabel award winner for their sustainability manufacturing practices!

This cropped hoodie can be paired with your favorite pair of joggers, leggings, or even a pair of shorts. It’s not too heavy or too light, this fabric makes for a great layering piece all year round.

4. Connie Jogger by Threads 4 Thought

The Connie Jogger looks every bit as comfortable as it is - it’s made from their signature feather fleece, and boasts the title of ‘the comfiest sweatpants you'll ever wear!’. We’re sold.

Threads for Thought is a great pick when it comes to sustainable fashion. Their fabrics are made from some of the world’s most sustainable materials, including organic cotton, recycled polyester, and Lenzing modal.

In case you’re wondering how to style joggers, here’s a good place to start: pair them with a black leather jacket, a turtleneck or an oversized hoodie with slip-on sneakers or a pair of Dooey’s house shoes.

About Dooeys

At Dooeys, we don’t make your average house slipper. We make the ultimate house shoes in a sustainable way using premium, sustainable materials — our vegan apple leather is sourced from organic, post-processed apple skins and cores used in the juice industry. Instead of the traditional sole, we use sugarcane EVA that has the same softness and flexibility as foam used in sneakers with a much lower carbon footprint. Our shoes come with a high-quality lining made of recycled polyester and plastic bottles in an efficient, zero-waste system. We also offset carbon emission on every order shipped. So try a pair of womens house slippers that will leaving you looking good and feeling like you never want to take them off.

Dooeys provide cozy house shoes with arch support in an eco-way.

Try our house loafers or slip on house shoes at https://dooeys.com/.Read more

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rodrigohyde · 6 years

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The Best Hoodies For Men

Those sweaty summer days are long gone, and now it’s the start of crisp, cool fall weather that we all know and love. Forget those iced coffees, we’ve got pumpkin spice lattes and hot cider .

What fall really means is the chance to pack up your airy, light clothing and break out your chunky sweaters, distressed jeans and comfy AF hoodies. That’s right; it’s time to get comfortable. Real comfortable. But how do balance the scales of being both comfy and stylish? Ah, the age-old question we continue to ask.

Related: These 15 Fashionable Fall Jackets Are Guaranteed To Turn Heads

Don’t worry; we’ve got you covered. We’ve discovered the secret of picking out options that are both cozy and chic. You need to be looking your best, even if you’re throwing on a sweatshirt and running out the door. Hoodies have been notorious for being large, baggy throw ons only for comfort, but that’s certainly not the case anymore. While they are definitely made to be comfortable, they are now better fitting and incredibly more fashionable than ever before.

So which ones are the best ones? Well if you’re looking for a hoodie that’s practical for the cool fall weather and trendy for the cool fall vibe, we’ve got some great options for you. Check out these best hoodies for men.

10 Year Hoodie

Like a fine wine, hoodies just get better with age. The more you wear it, the softer the sweater will get. Flint + Tinder’s 10 Year Hoodie is designed to last you for the next ten years. An oversized hood and soft cotton finish make it the perfect thing to cuddle up with by a campfire, on a plane, or just on your couch. $89.00 at Huckberry.com

Nike Men’s Ko Hoodie

This Nike sweater comes with the brand’s signature technology: therma FIT will keep you insulated in the colder months, Dri-FIT mesh vents keep the sweat from leaving any lingering odors, and ultra-durable seams will hold up against years of wear and tear. The low-key branding makes it a great option for heading out of your house without looking like you’re hitting the gym. From $35.00 at Amazon.com

Champion Performance Fleece Pullover

Looking for a hoodie that is stylishly simple and also functional? This Champion performance one is your new go-to. You can take this hoodie from the gym to dinner, although you might want to spray on some cologne first. Champion’s understated logo design isn’t overbearing, taking up only a small portion of the overall hoodie. Champion has been huge ever since its collaboration with Vetements. However, a Champion hoodie won’t run you the cost of the $1,000 hoodie they made together. $32.50 at Amazon.com

Russell Mike Chenille Hoodie

Russell basically invented the sweatshirt. Seriously. The iconic 115-year-old sportswear brand literally invented the sweatshirt in 1926, and over the past 90 years, has pretty much perfected it. This is one of the latest iterations with the recognizable "R" logo front and center in nothing less than chenille. Don't think that such a fancy fabric means this is reserved for a special occasion -- no no. With old school brands making their way back into the vernacular in fresh new ways, this sweatshirt is meant to be shown off. Available in five different colors, you can get a different one for everyday of the work week.

$65.00 at RussellAthletic.com

SODO Slu Hoodie

An athletic cut combined with a clean look and versatile fabric give this hoodie vigorous swag. SODO employs its signature MOSS fabric to maintain fabric quality by wicking away moisture, while its Zero Odor technology relies on antimicrobial properties to kill odor-causing bacteria before stench ever becomes an issue. Its toned form should draw enough stares at the gym highlighting the cuts on your arms and chest. $118.00 at Amazon.com

Carhartt Collinston Brushed Fleece Sherpa Lined Sweatshirt

Carhartt’s remained an urban fashion staple predating back to the ‘90s and continues to make street style dope with sweatshirts that appeal to the blue-collar demographic. This relaxed hoodie complements casual attire with a slim profile and Sherpa fabric lining that welcomes comfort and extra warmth in chiller times. Pair it with a light crew neck to bring out the fleece’s details. $59.99 at Amazon.com

Dylan Double Cloth Popover Hoodie

Hitting the beach? This light cotton hoodie will not only protect you from the sun’s dangerous rays, but it’ll dry off quickly if you get caught in the surf. The double-lined fabric is warm enough and the chambray stripes are casual enough to take you into whatever the night’s activities are. $45.00 at Huckberry.com

Adidas Graphic Hoodie

Last but not least is a brand that’s been conquering fashion lately. Adidas is no newcomer, but now its logo can be seen on every block. It’s become a sign of coolness and yes, even style. This hoodie, with its signature trefoil, is great for any occasion and comes in multiple colors. It’s a classic, comfortable hoodie you can run into the ground. $49.00 at Nordstrom.com

Comme Des Garçons PLAY Pullover

Leave it to Comme Des Garçons to make basics more than just basics. This black PLAY pullover hoodie is a necessity in any man’s wardrobe. It’s extremely versatile and the signature Comme Des Garçons heart with eyes logo really makes it. It’s such a small, subtle detail that gives something like a black sweatshirt the little oomph it needs. $270.00 at Bloomingdales.com

Under Armour Storm Armour Fleece Hoodie

Built for mobility, UA sells one of the lightest fleeces that allows you to maneuver without compromising breathability or style when in athletic mode. The company utilizes its patented Storm technology, which protects the hoodie's durable construction by repelling water, making it ideal for rainy runs. A soft-inner layer helps “trap heat” to keep the upper body warm with side hand pockets serving as a great storage bin for your iPhone. $39.99 at Amazon.com

Eddie Bauer Sherpa-Lined Hoodie

Want a basic hoodie you’ll want to wear every single day? Eddie Bauer’s got you covered, literally. Coming in colors that match with everything, this hoodie will be your go-to for layering during chilly days and nights. Plush sherpa fleece keeps you warm and comfy, creating a cocoon you won’t want to leave. It’s a great pick if you want a very versatile hoodie.

$80.00 at EddieBauer.com

Vans Retro Pink Hoodie

This retro pink hoodie from Vans gives you a laid back feeling for any relaxed activity. With a regular cut and fitted trims, you’ll feel perfectly comfortable to lounge around or run errands. In a washed-look pink adorned with a retro logo, you’ll feel effortlessly cool.

$54.00 at ASOS.com

Tommy Jeans Sherpa Hoodie Sweatshirt

Want a super warm, super soft hoodie? Look no further. This Tommy Jeans sherpa hoodie keeps in the heat for those cool, fall nights while also bringing boldness to your look. Coming in three bright colors, you can show your personality off in a big way. Don’t be afraid to be bold.

$100.00 at UrbanOutfitters.com

Native Youth Patch Pocket Pullover Hoodie

Differ from the norm in this patch pocket pullover from Native Youth. It has roomy raglan sleeves for ultimate comfort, and the olive green color gives off that warm, fall vibe. The funnel neck and patch pockets make this hoodie stand out; you won’t see this hoodie on everyone you meet. It’s the perfect hoodie to wear around town or at a fall party.

$90.00 at Nordstrom.com

Stampd Yellow Metal Hoodie

This yellow hoodie from Stampd gives you a bright fall color, instantly boosting your mood. Coming in an oversized fit and made from custom-milled French terry, it’s extremely comfortable, and you’ll never want to take it off. A chrome logo on the sleeves adds some extra flair while not being too over-the-top.

$185.00 at Stampd.com

Collusion Animal Print Hoodie

Who said print’s dead? This COLLUSION animal print hoodie is an easy way to add a little fun into your wardrobe. With a regular fit and funky blue and yellow animal print, you’ll feel stylish and a tiny bit flashy. Add some personality to your fall outfit by easily throwing this on.

$37.00 at ASOS.com

Zara Quilted Hoodie

Talk about unique: this quilted hoodie from Zara isn’t something you normally see. The z-pattern quilts add some awesome texture that draws the eye in on what would normally be a pretty basic hoodie. It’s great for the guy who loves neutrals but wants to add some quirk.

$49.90 at Zara.com

Mack Weldon Ace Hoodie

You want the softest hoodie around? You’re in luck, because the Ace hoodie from Mack Weldon is made from micro-sanded French terry, meaning it packs an extremely soft touch. Although it looks like a pretty basic hoodie, the details and quality make it worthwhile. The welt pockets and ribbed bottom make this hoodie a little more elevated. While there are plenty of colors to choose from, red clay or dark forest give off great fall vibes.

$88.00 at MackWeldon.com

Baja Sweater Poncho

If a simple stripe can make your outfit more refined, imagine what a traditional Neskowin print can do. This luxe textile takes the ordinary hoodie to the next level making it a true Faherty favorite. Multiple muted tones keep this fitting in with classic wardrobes just as much as it does for those guys who live in Faherty prints and patterns. The hand-wrapped drawstrings are the final detail that shows us why this isn't just another run-of-the-mill hooded sweatshirt.

$298.00 at FahertyBrand.com

Todd Snyder + Champion Color Block Hoodie

Color block like you haven’t before in this eye-catching Todd Snyder + Champion hoodie. The bright blue strongly contrast against both black and white, making sure you stand out in something as plain as a hoodie. Pair it back with joggers, keep it casual with jeans or style it up with some tailored pants.

$168.00 at ToddSnyder.com

Knit Style Half-Zip Hoodie

A combination of a half-zip, lightweight knit and a hoodie, this stylish piece gives you something other hoodies won’t. It also has an adjustable elastic hemline so you can have the fit you need. The middle fold offers some visual interest to break the eye while the two-tone drawstrings pack a color punch to stand out against the bright yellow color. It’s a color powerhouse that reminds you of the beautiful changing fall leaves.

$79.00 from BestSellerClothing.com

Lululemon Lost in the Hustle Hoodie

This Lululemon hoodie is ideal for your next workout or for rocking the athleisure look around town. This hoodie gives you the coverage you want with the breathability you need. Made with durable fabrics and zip pockets, this hoodie is ready for anything you can throw at it. And coming in a beautiful sea steel color, it’s a stylish choice for workouts or everyday wear.

$118.00 at Lululemon.com

Zara Camouflage Hoodie

Camo shouldn't blend in when it’s done right. This khaki-colored camo hoodie elevates camo to a classic cool, with black contrast details and ribbed texture to make the the pattern pop. The small details pack a big punch, making you actually look stylish and not like a deer hunter. With neutral colors, this hoodie is pretty versatile so it works with whatever you're wearing.

$49.90 at Zara.com