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giggly-squiggily · 2 years ago

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hi omg i need to stop lurking and start talking to ppl

i seriously admire you and other creators for taking on tickletober. like damn, thats 31 pieces of work. you should be super proud!!! I really hope you enjoy that mini vacation bc you def deserve it!!! your ability to churn out so much fantastic work while balancing your personal life is extremely inspiring <3 <3 i know youre going far with whatever you put your mind to!!!

im gonna just drop a little wild card of a request-ish thingy. on my mind rn are kisses!!! kisses turning into raspberries!!! feel free to use it or not, or combine it with another prompt, im leaving it up to you <3

hope you have a fantastic october, and an amazing november, AND THEN CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS OMG 2022 GO BYE BYE

Skribblz! *Flailing hug jumps* It's so good to hear from you! :D Merry Christmas, New Years, the end of the freaking 2022 nightmare whoop whoop HELLO! :D I've gotcha covered! I was going back and forth on who to use for this prompt, but ultimately fell on Sengen because- yes. Sengen. :D

I hope you like it! :D Here's to a grand 2023!

Everyone has a love language. Gen’s is kisses.

~~~

“Senku-chan. Have you been here all morning?” Gen shuffled into the makeshift lab, tilting his head curiously at the other.

“Hm? Oh yeah- I had an idea on how to progress with the lightbulb. It’s proving to be rather…difficult.” Senku sighed, bending his head as he ran a hand through his hair. His shoulders were set with tension, stress rolling off him in waves. “I’ll take a break soon just…yeah.”

Gen hummed, nodding. Walking over, he reached out and gently hugged his boyfriend’s shoulders, nuzzling his cold cheek against the warmth of the other’s skin.

“Ah! Mentalist, you’re freezing!” Senku yelped, a chuckle escaping his lips as Gen pressed closer. “Stop, you’re too cold!”

“No way- you're warm!” Gen grinned, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against the back of his neck. “When you're ready for a break, come find me. I’ll be with the kids making wires and such.” With another kiss, Gen let him go, disappearing from the lab with a small wave.

“Heh…maybe I will.” Senku shook his head softly, cheeks warm as he ran a hand along the back of his neck, the skin still tingling from Gen’s lips.

Later that day, Senku returned, shaking in his coat as he scurried over to a blanket wrapped Gen.

“Scoot over, I’m freezing.”

Gen smiled in his pillow, doing just that as the scientist crawled in beside him. “Oh! Senku-chan you’re actually freezing!” Gen yelped with a laugh upon feeling Senku’s cold limbs against his- reaching out and taking his frozen fingers within his own. “How long have you been out today?” “Too long. I got caught up in some lab testing.” Senku snuggled closer, pressing his cool cheek into Gen’s warm shoulder. “I’m tired. Wake me up later.”

“But Senku-chan, it’s only the evening.” Gen teased, smiling when he felt the other start to snooze. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Sleep well, Senku-chan.”

~~~

“You cut yourself?” Gen’s voice shook him from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

“Hm? Oh, I did, didn’t I?” Senku looked down at his hands, eyeing the reddish lines racing along his palms. “I must have caught them on something. I’ll go clean up.”

“Let me do it.” Gen blurted out, startling them both. Face warm, Gen cleared his throat before gesturing to Senku’s hands. “I…I don’t mind doing it. Cleaning up your hands that is.”

Senku blinked, taking in the request. “Yeah…sure. Thank you, mentalist.” He smiled, feeling suddenly shy. It was just hands- did it really matter all that much?

Gen nodded, equally flustered as he went to gather up the things. Before long, he had a small clay basin and a rag, the soap wrapped up in it. Over his arms lay two fresh arm bands to rewrap Senku’s hands. “A-Alright- ehm. Take a seat.” Gen waved him down, kneeling before him and gathering up the first limb. “L-Let me know if it hurts.”

Despite the shake in his voice, Gen’s hands were gentle. Unwrapping the bandages Senku always wore, he went to work- carefully dabbing at the angry red lines. It stung a little, but Senku was grateful for that. Had it not hurt, he was sure he’d be an absolute wreck right now.

“Heh- you're pretty good at this, Mentalist.” He had to break the tension before his heart exploded. “Cut yourself alot with those playing cards?”

“Please, me? The great Mentalist?” The other seemed to relax, an easy smile on his lips. “That’s all magic- I simply make it appear.”

“Sure you do.” Senku snorted, earning a playful glare from the other.

“I’ll remember that…It’s mainly from cooking.” Gen confessed, finishing off the first hand and gathering the other. “I’m not exactly a good chef. I can barely work a microwave back in our time, let alone a kitchen knife.”

Senku tried. He flattened his lips. He breathed through his nose. He closed his eyes with so much tension he was sure he looked like he was in pain.

“One time I put an egg in the microwave.” Gen carried on, starting to smile. “I didn’t know you were supposed to pierce it. When I went to get it, the entire inside looked like a crime scene. It was like I killed Gudetama.”

That did it. Senku let out a wheeze, pressing his freshly cleaned hand to his mouth as he laughed himself silly. “Ohohohoho mahahhan! Mentalist youhohour a worse chehehef than mehehehe!”

“Oh hush! I’m not that terrible!” Gen giggled with him, clearly pleased with himself. “At least I didn’t burn bread seven times in a row!”

That only made Senku laugh harder, the scientist turning away as his shoulders shook with mirth. His ears were red- Gen wanted to kiss them. “Ohooho, ohohooho god! Mentalist, yoohohour too much!” Senku snorted, sitting back up with tears in his eyes, a loving warmth mixed in them that made Gen’s heart skip. “Remihihnd me not to puhuhut you on cooking duty.”

“No worries there. I’m sure the village knows already, hehe.” Gen looked down at Senku’s hand, now clean and dry. It was warm, fitting perfectly in his own. Without much thought, he brought it up to his lips, kissing the now clean wounds.

“G-Gen?” Senku was so surprised by the action he used his real name. His face was aflame once more, eyes wide in surprise. This time, Gen only winked, kissing it again.

“Sometimes we gotta kiss it all better, yeah?” Gen teased, pressing one more kiss against it before grabbing the bandages.

“Y-Yeah…I suppose we do.” Senku murmured, flustered the rest of the evening.

~~~

“Oi, would you cut that out!” Senku squirmed beneath him, giggles climbing up his throat with each kiss and nuzzle Gen gave him. They had a free evening- Chrome had more or less forced Senku out of the lab earlier that day. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone. Go get some rest. I’ll take care of everything.”

At first, Senku was a bit irritated. He was- at least to him- on a breakthrough with his current project.

But then he saw Gen’s smiling face upon returning to their little room and decided Chrome was absolutely correct. He did need a break.

“Why should I? You’re too cute!” Gen teased between kisses, pressing another one behind Senku’s ear, making him blush and yelp out a laugh. “The cutest Scientist I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Yooohohohu huhuhuhuhush, Mehehehentahhahahlist!” Senku twisted in his arms, the acts in vain as they only opened up more tickle spots for Gen to get to. “Staahhahap it, ah! Wahhhahait!” He scrunched up as Gen kissed his neck right along a pulsepoint. “No kihihihihihsing!”

“Yes kissing!” Gen smiled against his skin, daring to lightly bite him and earning a squeak. “Unless you want me to nibble instead?”

“Yohoohohohhu suhuhuhuck- GAH NOHOHOHO!” Gen had moved back up to his ear, lightly biting it, sending both him and Senku falling backwards. “MEHEHEHHENTALIHIHIHIST!”

“Hm?” Gen asked, sitting up with twinkling eyes.

“Staahahhhahp it! Nohoohoho bihhihihting or kihiihihihssing!” Senku huffed, giving him a glare.

“Boo…fine fine. I won’t kiss or bite.” Gen agreed, something in his expression sending shivers down the other’s spine.

“Mentalist…don’t you Dahare!” Gen attacked once more, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. At first, there was nothing. No kisses, no nibbles, not even a nuzzle.

And then-

“PFFFFFFT!”

“GAH AHEHAHHAHAH YOU SUHUHUHUHUCK!” Senku howled in laughter, shoving weakly at Gen’s shoulders as the other blew another raspberry into his skin. “GHEHEHEHEHEHEN!”

“Hehe, okay okay!” Gen laughed, sitting back with a smile, watching Senku gasp for air. His cheeks were bright red, eyes misty with mirth as they tried to glare up at Gen. “Aww, don’t look at me like that. You can’t tell me you weren’t having fun, Senku-chan~”

“Shuuhuhuht up….mehehheentalist.” He groaned, no real malice in his voice as he ran a hand over his face. When he looked back again, Gen was watching him fondly, something soft in his expression. Senku knew exactly what he wanted.

“Heh…come here.” He reached up, wrapping a hand around Gen’s collar loosely before pulling him down, pressing their lips together. Immediately Gen melted into the kiss, reaching out to pull Senku closer.

They stayed like that for a long time, pulling away when they needed to breathe. “Better?” Senku asked when he could, deeply satisfied with the warm blush on Gen’s cheeks, the color running down his neck.

“Much better.” Gen nodded, snuggling close. “Can we do that again?”

“Like you need to even ask.” Senku laughed as Gen kissed him again and again.

Thanks for reading! :D

#dr stone #tickle #tickle fic #sengen #senku ishigami #gen asagiri #fluff #kisses #lots of kisses #This was so cute to write ahhh!#I love them your honor

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satanicsanity · 2 months ago

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This looks fun, so I will contribute!

@lyric-abaddon @zach-the-goober @stinging-metal @artblockedgremlin @wally-darling-hyperfixation @bettyflower23

Thank you @anti-homophobia-cheese for the tag! This one is super fun!

Tagging @cha-melodius @zwiazdziarka @orchidscript @firenati0n @read-and-write- @gayrootvegetable @alasse9 @caterpills @xthelastknownsurvivorx @cultofsappho @love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward and anyone else that wants to play!

#Fun #tag game #tumblr games #trinkets #my collection #gits and shiggles

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unboundwanderers · 2 years ago

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//THE LOONEY DOCTOR\\ Intro Variant.

Fresh out of his goth phase, this Doctor smashes the 2005 and 2019 eras together to make a sassy, alienated, energetic nightmare. Living up to the "I'm an alien" lifestyle and not even trying to blend in This Doctor is a jokester with a heart of wonder and an urge to explore, run, and get into trouble. An adrenaline junky- This Doctor rocks outfits that consist of jeans- hoodies, sneakers, and the occasional suit jacket. His hair is messy, his clothes are casual- and he's the type of Doctor to shout "YEET" from the top of his lungs before throwing a makeshift bomb at a group of killer robots.

Below is a list of PROMPTS for THE LOONEY DOCTOR. A Boisterous incarnation of The Doctor with a young face who brings sunshine energy into a universe full of Darkness. Bouncing around from one place to the other, This Doctor's adventures are lighthearted- but pack a bittersweet punch as The Doctor finally attempts to let go of his Time War Grief and bring hope to a suffering universe.

FIRST MEETING PROMPTS / SOLO ADVENTURE PROMPTS >In Which your Muse meets The Doctor and works with him collaboratively (or antagonistically) during a one-off adventure. As mentioned in my rules- I write a lot of my threads like "Micro-D&D campaigns" in which our muses go on an adventure! Here are some prompts that follow that concept. These are basic ideas- they can always be discussed and plotted further.

END OF DAYS: Your planet has received an announcement: According to a race called The Sunmen, your SUN is alive- and the Sunmen want to eat it, so they're giving the native races twenty-four hours to vacate the premises, in which time they will soon consume your sun. Of course, The Doctor thinks this is absolutely bonkers, but he wants YOUR CHARACTER to come to watch him prove that to everyone because he's insane.

CREATURES OF THE ICE: It's CHRISTMAS- Or at least, you'd think it is with how hard it's SNOWING on YOUR CHARACTER's world. However, things are starting to get a little worrying- because not only is your character snowed in, unable to leave their homes... you're starting to not hear back from people. However- when a POLICE BOX lands in your driveway, and a total nutcase named THE DOCTOR bursts into your home, he reveals the true perpetrators of the snow day.

BRIDGE TO BEYOND: The Science division of YOUR CHARACTER's major city discovers a passing spaceship, which beams instructions down toward them with instructions for a connection bridge, which the spaceship reveals will allow them to transmit larger instructions for major world problems like overpopulation, world hunger, and issues like that. While some people eat it all up, YOUR CHARACTER is suspicious- and when The Doctor arrives claiming that it isn't an informational bridge, but a teleporter- well... now you've GOT to investigate.

TOMB OF THE DALEKS: The Doctor receives an emergency signal while The Tardis is heading toward a resort planet, so unfortunately- raincheck on the beach day and HELLO to SAND WORLD. The Doctor is detecting an ancient signal from The Daleks, and all becomes clear when YOUR CHARACTER & The Doctor stumble upon an archeology team... about to dig some up...

PROMPTS IN WHICH YOUR CHARACTER IS TRAVELLING WITH THE DOCTOR.

>In Which your muse is either taken on one journey or is a full-fledged member of The TARDIS crew. Either way, your Character, and The Doctor will arrive into a situation, aid or assist in any way they can, or at the very least- escape danger.

THE STEEL CITY: The TARDIS lands in a cyberpunk neo-noir city in the twenty-fifth century. This city is teched out, and people are practically putting their brains in robot bodies! While The Doctor is a bit wigged out, he doesn't really have too strong of an opinion on the subject- until YOUR CHARACTER & The Doctor discover that an old enemy of The Doctor's is about to start releasing their own upgrades.

NOTICE OF REJECTION: The TARDIS arrives in old-world America just in time for The French and Indian War. Interested in seeing history happening and excited over an opportunity to show YOUR CHARACTER some history come to life- things get bad when SONTARANS arrive to join the war.

#faulty circuits (out of character / ooc~)#The Adventures Continue (prompts)

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chaoticgeminate · 2 years ago

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Kinktober 2022 - Chapter Thirty One

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (If that was not entirely clear)

Series Summary: You’re a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn’t expect him to have a crush on you.

Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it.

You haven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet.

Notes: Going to be using prompts from @the-purity-pen for my meta as hell indulgence! There are feelings in this (I have no idea how they got there) and I may end up removing some possible chapters here and there depending on how I’m feeling, I apologize in advance if that happens because my brain is super mean sometimes.

Possible Warnings: Squirting, toys (butt plug), fooling around between trick or treaters (not advised EVER under any real circumstances this is FICTION for a reason), unprotected PiV

Free Choice - Toys (1.5k)

Underestimating Javi’s ability to source things was something you still found yourself dressed as Sally while Javi adjusted his bat bowtie, you’d chosen to forgo the full make-up and instead used eye pencil to draw the stitch lines on your skin and put on the shockingly bright red wig that looked like it was made from thread rather than synthetic hair. Red lipstick completed your look and you turned to see study your fiancé again; he’d gone full white make-up with dark black rings around his eyes with the extended lines at his lips, and since so much of his blazer was open, he’d made sure to bring the white all the way down.

Javi left his hair alone, the shape of his facial hair standing out under the white make-up, but otherwise he’d done a good job with the coverage of it. Your apartment had been decked out in a last-minute explosion of decorations, red shiny garland with fake cobwebs strung between candy canes lined your entryway where the door was left open to allow people inside.

Using command hooks to attach them to the wall you had Christmas lights fixed in place but in the shape of spider webs, it had taken ages to get them to not only work but stay where you wanted them to, and everything of value was already stashed away while the television had a horror ambiance soundtrack playing and Javi finished putting up the last of the fake cobwebs.

With the lights off and the only lighting coming from the Christmas lights your apartment looked like a void zone of Halloween and Christmas, the mini projectors with the ghosts from Nightmare Before Christmas on the walls added to the last-minute décor and you loved all of it.

All night you got compliments from parents, awed remarks from kids, and between groups you and Javi teased each other or talked depending on what door In the building the next group of kids were at.

“Solecita it is hardly 4 are you sure the kids will be showing up?” “Yes, Javi, they’ve been starting the Trick or Treating earlier and earlier.”

“Did you see the Transformer costume? He was such a cool little Bumblebee!” “Perhaps next year we should aspire to go grandiose, mi amor, I could have fun planning a large event at the olive grove.”

“Fuck- Javi they’re next door.” “You were so close, Solecita, lo siento.” “Gloves on, Skeleton King.”

“Is someone upset?” “You are a wicked tease, when you said you wanted to see how good the lipstick looked on me I thought you meant-“ “Well you’re wearing white make up Javi, only choice to indulge would be to shade check in other places and there are children coming in and out.”

“I want one.” “Solecita-“ “She was so cute, Javi!” “I am allergic, but we could get a dog?” “Okay, that’s fair.”

When the last of the candy was gone -your custom modified Christmas chocolate mixed with Halloween treats proving to be a big hit- you and Javi put the sign up on the door saying you were out before deciding clean up would happen tomorrow. Heading right for your too small bathroom together, though Javi went to the sink first to get as much of the white makeup off as he could before he got under the water stream.

You were nearly done and getting out, since the shower was barely able to fit him comfortably on his own, and Javi caught your hand to pull you in for a searing kiss first.

Focusing more on drying than dressing, since there was little point, you felt a little tremor of excitement shoot through you at wondering how Javi would react to your surprise. It had been fun to slip away during set-up to get a plug in, how he hadn’t noticed when he’d slipped his hand up your dress between groups you would never know, but it meant more fun for you when he find it.

A rather fun idea made you giggle and lay back on the so you were propped on the pillows, moaning softly when you began to let one hand glide down your body. The soft touch made you shiver as you imagined him hearing you and rushing through the rest of his shower, wondering if he would surrender control it take it.

Your next breathy sound was louder, loud enough that he definitely heard you since the water cut off.

“Solecita, what do you think you are you doing?”

His tone was sharp and deep, you looked up at him through hooded eyes as he stood in the doorway. You met his stare with a look of defiance and whimpered as you slipped your fingers down through your folds, earning a small sound not unlike a growl from him as he watched you part your lips for him. Letting him see how wet you were, see the shine of your arousal as it leaked down your slit.

His nostrils flared when your hips rolled up, as you circled your clit, and Javi crossed the room in maybe three strides to snatch your hand away from your body and roll you over onto your stomach. You felt him discover the plug, the way he gasped out a soft “bebita” before he was picking your hips up and pressing your upper body into the mattress, and since the last time you were in this position he had been driving into you with the intent to breed you… you clenched around nothing with a whine.

“Javi-“

“Look at you. So wet already, but you seemed happy to take care of yourself. You even have something to fill you here.” He pressed against the base of the plug, making you try to rock back for more of the sensation.

“Wanted t’ surprise you-“

“Oh, I am surprised, bebita. But I don’t want to interrupt your fun, I just wanted a better view. Go ahead, make yourself cum.”

He grabbed your hand, the one he’d pulled away, and lifted it to cup your pussy, urging you to continue what you were doing; your desperate little whine and the way your hand slipped through your folds with a wet sound had your knees widening as you rocked down against the press of your fingers.

Javi watched you touch yourself, and you could feel how close he was to you by his breath on your skin, the soft kisses to the backs of your thighs and the breathy little curses he was breathing against your skin when you would dip your fingers into your body to make sure you showed him just how wet and ready you were for him.

It was only when you were so close to that peak, when your breathing was erratic and you could feel it right there, that he slid his cock home; the fullness you felt of him and the plug was so much and you felt the hot rush of your orgasm soak him and your legs and definitely the sheets below. Javi didn’t even last two full thrusts before he was filling you, just as overwhelmed as you were feeling, and the two of you were left panting hard as your body trembled from the sensations.

“Fuck, you were so tight and wet- I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. Bebita, can you handle more?”

“Always, mi prometido.”

He grinned when you looked over your shoulder at him and when he moved again, he did it in a way that let him close his left hand over yours, allowing you to see your rings beside each other and catching the low lighting of your bedside lamp, and Javi pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Be careful, mi prometida, I am a greedy man.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He chuckled in your ear and ground himself inside of you, making you whimper.

“You can believe that I will keep all of my promises, Solecita, starting with the most important one of all. I promise to love you and be by your side from now until the end of eternity.”

He was such a fucking romantic, even buried in you like this, and you loved him so much for it.

“I promise to support you and love you and do anything in my power to make sure you have a reason to smile by my side, from now until eternity.”

Javi whimpered, a broken sound, and the tender way he rocked into you as he draped himself more onto your body was so all encompassing and perfect and you made sure he knew it.

“So good to me, Javi.” “Feels so amazing, the way you love me is always what I need.”

“You’re a good man cariño, I love you with all that I am.”

Javi’s choked off whimper in your shoulder, the feeling of his body going rigid and his balls drawing up, made you sure that for the rest of your lives and the rest of your eternity you would make sure he knew just how much you loved him and how glad you were that he had found you.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @AynsleyWalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

Kinktober Only: @nicolethered @katareyoudrilling

#kinktober 2022 #javi g x reader #javi g x f!reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #cw smut #cw toys #cw butt plug #cw piv #cw semi public #chaoticwrites

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sweet-s0rr0w · 3 years ago

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It’s a year ago to the week that @tackytigerfic and I first started ‘talking’ on DMs, and although life’s super busy I really wanted to celebrate them putting up with me for a full YEAR with some kind of reclist. I decided to go with my five favourite Tacky microfics from@drarrymicrofic, because we met through micros and I know how they love them. Also they’re VERY DEEP into writing a longfic right now (EXCITEMENT) and therefore haven’t posted anything in a while, so I wanted to give some of their older stuff some love <3.

All under 1k (or thereabouts), all Tumblr links, none explicit, all breathtakingly written and absolutely delightful.

Hand on the Key (prompt: burn it) - Privet Drive, biscuits, half-naked Dudley and a lovely cast of Gryffindors

Semiplume (prompt: Live to Tell) - wings, baby Scorpius, Veela mates (or not)

Animated Dust (prompt: adoption) - Veela Draco, a dog, cheap wine in London parks

Love in a Mist (prompt: Luna) - flowers, chilly Vampire Draco, a cosy cardigan

Grant Me Good Rest (prompt: blanket fort) - nightmares, cigarettes and hand-holding

***

Previous Five Favourite (non-micro)fics:

Tacky, you know you’re one of my absolute favourite people, and I’m so grateful to have your support, not just in fandom but with real life too. Your fics got me through the toughest times long before we got chatting, and you’re not just talented but super lovely and generous, and I’ve made so many wonderful friends through you too. I feel so lucky to know someone who’s equally good with giving real life advice as with answering my silly late-night questions (‘HELP, how long after they eat sausages do you think I can have them fuck?!!’) I never told you this, but you were the first person after family I messaged for support when the kid was admitted to hospital, and I think that just about says it all. Fandom is fandom, and people come and go, but I really hope we’re exchanging Christmas cards into old age :D <3

#drarry #ss recs #and is a bit soppy #sometimes #ok a lot of the time #but really #how many people have i met through tacky #how much life advice do they give me #a LOT #fandom loveliness

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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 years ago

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Short and Sweet Masterlist

fluff fics under 1k

6:15 AM - yourfriendlyblogstalker

summary: It should be against the law for any human to be awake before 8am, is Dan’s first thought of the day

#3: Safe (ao3) - somanydestiel

Summary: Fluffy drabble where Phil is punishing Dan for something and after a while it gets a bit too rough so Dan yells the safeword or something and Phil comforts him and fluff fluff fluff

A Single Step - manchestereyes

Summary: It's the night after the first Interactive Introverts shows. And Dan is certainly feeling the love.

Afternoon Naps (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: Life can get pretty busy and sometimes a nap is needed.

All That Glitters - scifiphan

Summary: the taxi ride home after the boncas

Aqua-scaping (ao3) - R3ad3r1

Summary: Dan has a new hobby, Phil tries to be a responsible adult.

Candy Crush (ao3) - AmethystHollis

Summary: Dan wears a candy necklace. Phil has a sweet tooth. You know the rest.

Cute :D - dxnhowell

Summary: The first time Phil comments on one of Dan’s dailybooth photos.

Doing Nothing With You (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: A normal Saturday.

Doing The Dishes - phanisinlove

Summary: Dan hates doing the dishes, but this time might just be an exception.

Fifty Years Ago - insert-sugar-here

Summary: Dan and Phil are on vacation at the beach, when Explorers by Muse plays. This triggers slow dancing and singing.

Fluff (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Dan and Phil adopt a dog.

Freckles And Constellations (ao3) - your_starless_eyes

Summary: Phil loves Dan with all his heart, but what if one day he's not enough for the younger boy.

Giant nerds like to slow dance - beautiphil-flower

Summary: It’s pretty much Dan and Phil slow dancing early in the morning. (based on a prompt by someone on the phanfic tumblr)

Glad to Be Home (ao3) - ticklishraspberries

Summary: Dan and Phil make up for the time they lost for intimacy on the tour.

Grow As We Go (ao3) - lilyxxxooo

Summary: dan and phil welcome 2022 with coziness and closeness. they also discuss the ring that’s resided on dans finger for a few years:) based off “grow as we go” by ben platt, ofc! 10/10 recommend a listen

Home - succubusphan

Summary: Dan comforts Phil.

I can't take my eyes off you (ao3) - R3ad3r1

Summary: Phil loves when Dan blushes.

I Will Keep the Storm Away (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan is scared of storms. Phil helps. That's all.

I’m Proud of Us - glitterrhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil have finished the first show of their tour and Phil can't get over how beautiful and proud of Dan he is

In Colour - chuuseokies-blog

Summary: Dan gasps. Phil’s eyes are blue, and so is the flower he holds in his hand that pokes out of the red button-down and Dan wants to sing and thank the angels in heaven above because Phil Lester is his soulmate.

Jack and Sally - adorkablephil

Summary: Just a little ficlet about Dan and a sleepy Phil watching "The Nightmare Before Christmas".

Jumping On the Bandwagon Isn’t So Bad (ao3) - ticklishraspberries

Summary: Dan decides to jump on the ‘boys in crop tops’ trend.

Lounging Around (ao3) - your_starless_eyes

Summary: Just your run of the mill kinda domestic fluff with cuddling and kisses.

Midnight Fluff (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil wants to sleep but Dan wants to cuddle. Therefore he must poke and pester Phil until he wakes up.

my very own constellation (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Five days in Los Angeles.

National Best Friend Day (ao3) - LetterJumble

Summary: Because some holidays are better than others.

Not All the Blood Was Rushing to My Head - danhowellz

summary: dan and phil meeting for the first time in 2009 basically

Obviously In Love - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil have been dating for two years, and they’ve never told a single person about their relationship, but Dan’s mum is about to find out.

One Day (ao3) - TwistedRocketPower

Summary: Dan doesn't need a wedding, but sometimes he wants one.

Pause - scifiphan

Summary: dan and phil pause life for an afternoon nap.

Red Not White - phinalphantasy7

Summary: Dan's still feeling sick so Phil does something to cheer him up.

repeats and replays (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: phil's had a crush on his coworker dan for way too long. he's never had the nerve to ask him out, as much as he'd like to, but their friendship is good as it is.

one day, though, dan slips up mid conversation, and everything changes

seasick (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: Because Phil is the only person who could get sick on a non moving boat.

slept, snooze (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: a vibe in a text that shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.

sometimes quiet is violent (ao3) - nivi_chip

Summary: Sometimes, Dan just needs to see a pair of legs next to him.

Toast (ao3) - awrfdnp

Summary: Dan turns to Phil for adulting advice. Before he knew it, he was sent out to get lettuce from the supermarket. What he comes back with isn’t what Phil was expecting.

Together, or Not at All (ao3) - benotafraidofwriting

Summary: Dan flashes back to the day Phil asked him to co-host the radio show with him.

we never change (ao3) - nivi_chip

Summary: different decade same laundry problems

We’ve come so far Together - cactiphan

Summary: 9 years after PINOF 1, Dan buys Phil a special gift to remember their journey so far.

What Dreams Are Made Of - succubusphan

Summary: A surprise liveshow shows what the phandom always hoped to see but thought impossible.

Whatever You Want (ao3) - Phandiction

Summary: After Dan and Phil's first Day in the Life, Phil asks Dan how he liked it, and Dan tells him he didn't like it because he missed holding hands with Phil

Winding Down - truerequitedlove

Summary: Returning home and winding down.

ft. reassuring cuddles.

You’re My Pooh Bear - manchestereyes

Summary: Dan likes to hold something (or someone) while he sleeps.

you're still the one I run to (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Phil gets some exciting news and there's only one person he wants to share it with.

Yours (ao3) - thatsmistertoyou

Summary: Drabble in which Phil is a gross-in-love cuddle monster.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #drabble #drabble masterlist #fluff #fluff masterlist

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agathasangel · 4 years ago

Text

you just don’t know it yet but baby, i’ve already got your heart (diane sherman x fem!reader NSFW)

both an anon and @magnifique-monstre requested yandere prompt 6 and 17 (i think?) so I’m gonna combine them because they would go together well

prompt 6: “Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

prompt 17: “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world.”

warnings: everything, basically. it’s pretty fucked up actually. TW for drugging, stalking, dubcon, emetophobia warning (just one mention), kidnapping, etc. also teacher!diane

summary: Diane Sherman was your Professor, and then your girlfriend, and then your caretaker. As the days start to become hazy and mixed up with one another, you wonder if Diane is trustworthy.

Every day was basically the same. Wake up, take your meds, have breakfast with Diane. Then you would either accompany Diane to school or she would take you to the doctor’s or sometimes, if you felt up to it, she would take you on some sort of outing. She never liked to leave you alone and protectively followed you nearly everywhere you went. She took you home, and you would rest by her as she worked on her grading. At night Diane would make dinner for the two of you, the two of you would relax together, she would make sure you took the medication you needed at night and then you fell asleep in her arms.

It was nice. But you noticed that you started to forget things. You sometimes forgot how you even knew Diane, you even forgot your whole life before you met her at times. You were supposed to be on medical leave for a semester, which turned into a whole year, and- how long has it been now? You had no idea. You thought it was still summer, but the days started to blur together. The next year may have started, you had no way of knowing. Diane taught year round, so you went to school with her either way.

You remembered how everything started, though. You were a freshman, and you had moved across the country for college. You felt alone, and scared. You took a Chemistry class because you had to take some sort of science course, and it was the only one available when you signed up. You dreaded going, until you saw Professor Sherman. You struggled a bit in the class, so you went to her office hours. It was also a good excuse to talk to her, you thought.

She was a lot nicer than some of your other professors, and she helped you through the problems you struggled with.

“You know, students don’t usually like to come to my office hours, so feel free to show up whenever you need me. Alright, hon?”

“Of course. Thanks, Professor.”

How did it turn into this?

Oh, right. You and Diane started to get closer, and you started to come down with lots of rashes, general pains, and you started getting sick to your stomach more and more.

One day, you emailed Diane to tell her you couldn’t make it to her lab because you had thrown up that morning, to which she responded by asking what dorm you were in and if you needed anything.

It might be nice if you could bring me some saltines or something to settle my stomach? I have nothing in my dorm and can’t really stand up yet. Don’t worry about it though. I don’t want to get you sick, and are you even allowed in the dorms?

- (y/n)

I’ll be fine, and it really isn’t a big deal. We’re both adults, and I just want to help you.

- thinking of you, Prof. Diane Sherman

Next thing you remember, Diane showed up to your dorm a few minutes after your lab would have ended and brought not just crackers, but ginger ale, soup, water, blankets, and several different medicines. You talked for a while too, but couldn’t for the life of you remember what about. But you did remember that she stayed with you as long as you needed her, and promised to come back if you needed it.

You didn’t get better. You managed to get through your finals and pass your first semester classes, but you ended up having to spend much of Winter break in the hospital. Your parents came to visit, as did Diane. Diane actually came back every day, making sure you were okay.

You remembered that because of the silver necklace Diane gave you that Christmas that you still wore every single day. You felt bad when you got it because you didn’t think to get her a gift, but she told you not to worry about that, this was just a little thing that made her think of you. Besides, you were in the hospital!

“You know (y/n), I don’t have anyone else to visit over the holidays. I’m glad I get to be with you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

You started feeling a bit better and were able to come back for your second semester classes. You didn’t have Diane as a professor anymore, but you started to become friends. You would get coffee, or dinner. One night she asked you to come home with her, and be her girlfriend, to which you immediately agreed.

You slowly spent fewer nights at your dorm and more nights with Diane, and then you got sick again. After that, she convinced you to move in with her full-time, and you’ve been living in her house and sleeping in her bed ever since.

Right now, you were sitting in Diane’s and your bed, as she made dinner. You struggled to remember what happened next. This was when everything started to blend together. Your illnesses worsened even more shortly after you moved in with Diane. You remember being confined to the very same bed as Diane helped you do your finals from home, as she explained the situation to your parents and easily charmed them, convincing them you were in great hands.

“(Y/n), time for dinner!”, Diane called. She then walked to the bedroom to check if you needed any help.

“I’m fine, actually. I’ve been feeling a little better.”

“Good. Such a brave, good girl. Now eat up, alright baby?” cooed the older woman as she led you to the table and sat you down.

“Well, physically I’ve been feeling better, but-”

“What? What’s wrong? Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Are you feeling sad? anxious? My poor baby-”

“No, none of that. I’ve just been- forgetting things. Like, big chunks. My memories are so foggy. It’s hard for me to think at all sometimes.”

“Oh, honey, that’s just a side effect of your medication. It’s okay, it won’t last forever. And I’ll help you fill in any gaps you need until then. But you don’t need to worry. Not when you’re with me. Okay angel?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Oh, we’re in that kind of mood, are we?”

“Is that okay?”

“Very, very, okay, little one.”

Mommy was what you called Diane most often during sex. It turned her on immensely, and it excited you as well.

Diane grabbed you and brought you to the bed, tearing off your clothes.

“Are you still feeling good?”

“Yes Mommy.”

“Such a good girl for me. Such a good girl for Mommy.”

You spread your legs for her and she started touching you. But then-

“Mommy stop please. I can’t do this, Diane-”

“Alright. I’m sorry, I’ll go get your meds.

Diane went to the bathroom to get your meds and sleep aids.

“D-Diane?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why can’t I remember things? I can’t even remember some things about my family.”

“A side effect of some of your medication sweetie. I told you that.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I will tell you this, my love. People have hurt you, in your past. I remember when we met you were having such a difficult time. You wanted friends, you had so much trouble making friends. The other students were so mean to you. Your parents they- they acted like having to come see you when you were in the hospital was some kind of inconvenience. It was awful. You were so lonely.”

“I know I was lonely.”

“Yes, sweetheart. You needed someone. You needed me. I have to be the one to take care of you. I am the only person that can love the way you deserve to be loved. I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world. And I need you too. I need to love and protect you.”

“Yes, Diane. I need to sleep now.”

“Alright. Come here, darling,” said Diane. She held you until you fell asleep.

Next thing you knew, you were tied to the pole in the basement with several ropes. Diane was tying more and more ropes around you, around different parts of your body. The world felt heavy, blurry, fluid.

“Please stop, Diane. Why are you doing this?”

“It’s for your own good, darling. Trust me. You need this.”

The ropes began to cover your entire body. Your face, eyes, neck. Especially your neck. There was a sharp sting on your neck.

Your eyes flew open, and you awoke in a cold sweat, and screamed.

It was just a dream, I’m safe, thank God. Diane would never-

But then you noticed Diane. She was holding a small syringe, that seemed empty. And your neck stung. She was startled by your scream, clearly not expecting you to have woken up.

“Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

“What did you do to me? What was in there, Diane?”

“You need it, sweetheart. I know you don’t like needles.”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me? What’s going on?”

“You need this. You need me. Your-”

You searched for the syringe and found it. There was a thick, black residue on it, and you sniffed it. It gave you a head rush.

“You’ve been drugging me. This is why I’ve forgotten things, isn’t it?”

“Come on, angel. You know I wouldn’t”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”

You did feel tired. So tired. And you couldn’t even remember what you and Diane were even fighting about. So you went to sleep in her arms.

The next morning, Diane made you breakfast.

“How did you sleep, (y/n)?”

“I don’t know. I think I had a nightmare but I can’t remember-”

“Oh no! At least you can’t remember it, right?”

“I- I guess so.”

Diane felt relief that you didn’t remember what happened last night. Her plan was working. You would be hers, her precious girl, forever. All that work to find you, to make you trust her, making you sick, making you need her. She knew everything about you. You were her perfect girl, and she was yours. And you always would be.

#diane sherman #diane sherman x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #my fics #sarah paulson fics #im actually pretty proud of this one

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years ago

Text

Tell the Truth

Prompts: aaaa the way you write angst is just *chefs kiss* wonderful. I’ve been really enjoying the butterfly project series, it has made me cry multiple times. May I request some fluff to balance the angst? - anon

Excuse me while I sob over Redemption Never Came and politely grabby hand for more angst with a happy ending (Roman angst my beloved) (Also you are an amazing fanfic artist :D) - anon

This is so heartbreaking and whumpy but so soft in the end and I would devour a second part about everyone trying to help undo all the negative patterns they've all instilled in Roman and just showing him affection and everyone's hearts breaking a little more each time he's surprised they actually want to be around him. - LadyofhteWoods

And now a part of me wants to see all those scenarios again, only this time Roman gets loved- walk in the kitchen, get a hug. Sit on the couch? Cuddle pile. Go on a quest? Bring friends, if hurt, patch up and movies. Crying in bed because you had a bad time and your brain is screaming that you suck and a wave of depression has rippled through you and you feel horrible? Have some tea… cry it out…. We’re here. - A_tiny_star_prince

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: self-doubt, self-deprecating thoughts

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 7688

Roman lies. A lot. Maybe it's time they did something about it.

Roman’s lies don’t vanish overnight. How could they? When he’s so used to repeating them, over and over, in a horrific little mantra before he goes to sleep, how can he be expected to get rid of them in only one night?

That doesn’t make them less difficult to hear.

Janus is downstairs, helping Virgil fold up one of the blankets strewn about the living room, when he winces and hisses.

“J? You okay?”

Janus nods, jerking his head upward. Virgil follows his gaze and winces too.

“…Princey?”

“I think so.” That’s a lie. He knows it’s Roman.

“I got this,” Virgil says quietly, taking the blanket from Janus, “you go. He seems to let you help more than he lets us.”

He never really had the choice to let me.

Janus swallows heavily as he appears outside Roman’s door. The lies aren’t nearly as poisonous as they were a few days ago, but they’re strong enough to curl his tongue at the bitterness in his throat. He raises a hand to knock on the door.

The lies falter for a moment before another one floats through.

Don’t come in.

He smirks, gently pushing the door open to meet a darkened room.

“Impressive,” he says softly, making his way over to the figure in the bed and perching on the end, “that could’ve been one of mine.”

He’s rewarded with the quietest of huffs before a head shyly peeks out at him from the covers. Janus smiles and tilts his head.

“Hello, sweetie.”

“Hi.” Roman shuffles a little. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was summoning you.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Janus glances around the room. His computer is off and shut. The bathroom light and fan are off. He looks back. “Can I help, sweetie?”

A shuffling of the blankets that’s probably supposed to be a shrug.

“Let me come find you, then,” he murmurs, standing and moving to where the head was a moment ago, “how did you get this many blankets on top of you?”

He slowly starts to move them out of the way, peeling back layer after layer, only briefly wondering whether or not Roman can breathe properly under these. It’s a careful act, one he treats with the same reverence as cleaning his gloves or his scales, creating a little cocoon of blankets as he gets further and further into the covers.

The last one puffs just the slightest amount, up and down.

So you can breathe, good.

Janus doesn’t move this one all the way out of the way, just lifts it up enough to peer inside. Roman’s little face peers back at him, partially covered by another blanket clutched tight to his chest. He looks so…child-like.

The realization makes something warm turn in Janus’s chest.

“Knock knock,” he says softly, “anyone home?”

Roman blinks. “Mm.”

“May I come in, sweetie?”

“Mm.” Roman jerks his chin toward Janus’s clothes. “Lose the sharp bits.”

Janus snaps his fingers, transforming his usual clothes into a soft yellow shirt and sleep pants. “Better?”

“Mm.”

“How did you manage to get so many blankets balanced on your bed,” Janus asks as he slips beside Roman, “mine always fall off after three.”

“Practice.” Roman shifts to make room.

Janus frowns. “Come here, sweetie, let me cuddle you.”

“You don’t have to.”

The frown deepens. “Sweetie?”

Roman buries his face a little deeper into the blanket. “You don’t like cuddling. Virgil an’ Remus said so.”

Oh, Roman…

“Come, sweetie,” he insists, tugging Roman gently into a proper hug, “there.”

“But—but—“

“I may not be as big a fan of cuddling as you and Patton,” Janus says firmly, cupping Roman’s face, “and I’m certainly the type that enjoys being tackled by Remus—“

Roman snorts.

“—but you’re upset,” he finishes gently, “and I want to help.”

Burden.

Needy.

Don’t understand boundaries.

Don’t deserve help.

Janus hisses. Roman sighs.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” he assures, still cradling Roman’s face as he pulls him close, “I understand. It’s alright.”

“I know, and I—I don’t want you to leave, but—“ Roman swallows— “I just—I still don’t believe you’re here.”

Janus wraps a pair of arms around Roman’s waist and squeezes. “I’m real, I’m here.”

“I just—“

There’s another lie swirling in Roman’s brain, too nebulous to make it all the way to Janus, but present enough that it makes his mouth tingle. He leans down to kiss Roman’s forehead.

“…you said it was your job to protect the Ego.”

“That’s right, sweetie, it is.”

“I guess I…I just…”

Janus gives Roman another encouraging squeeze. Roman brings the blanket further up his face.

“…I guess I figured that if you—if you could h-hate me that much or h-hurt me that badly and not—not care, then you…maybe you…”

Janus’s heart clenches as the lie finally makes itself known.

Not worth protecting.

He pulls away, shushing the heartbroken whine that Roman makes, taking off his gloves and wrapping every arm around the poor thing. He presses another kiss to his forehead, letting the hiss out into his hair.

“That’s not true, sweetie,” he promises, “and you’ll never know how sorry I am for hurting you and letting it get this far.”

And the poor thing is so tired, so weary that he goes limp in Janus’s arms, save for the blanket clutched tightly to his face. Janus frowns, opening his mouth to say that might be a little uncomfortable, what with Roman’s arms tucked between them, when he starts putting the pieces together.

Roman is still wearing a fair amount of clothing, he’s got something pressed up against his face, under his chin, and he’s got so many blankets piled on top of him that even Janus feels warm.

“And here I thought I couldn’t feel more rotten,” he whispers, carding one hand through Roman’s hair, another scratching gently between his shoulder blades, “but you must be in agony.”

A questioning hum is let out against his throat.

“You’re still touch starved, sweetie,” he says in way of answering, squeezing a little tighter, “are you still cold?”

There’s a soft rush of breath as Janus cups the back of his neck and then a noise is just about torn from his throat as he uses it to pull Roman close.

“Oh, shh, shh, you poor thing,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to his cheek, “I’m right here, sweetie, I won’t leave you.”

They lie there for a while longer, Roman’s arms slowly lowering the blanket until he shyly puts his arms around Janus in return.

“There you go, sweetie,” he encourages, “hold onto me, that’s it.”

“Why—why are you letting me hug you?”

“Because it seems like you’d like to hug me.” Janus squeezes him again. “You don’t need to have a reason, sweetie, if you need a cuddle, you can have one.”

I need a reason. I need an excuse. I need an argument. I have to convince you.

Another hiss. “You can always ask for hugs, sweetie, you don’t need to convince me to hug you.”

“…really?”

Oh, Roman… “Yes, sweetie, you can ask any of us.”

The wave of disbelief that hits him makes him grit his teeth.

“I promise, sweetie. I promise.” Another kiss to his forehead. “You’re not unwanted, you’re not a burden.”

The silence he gets implies that Roman may not want to prove that—or disprove it—for himself right now.

“…can we just stay here for a bit?”

“For as long as you need, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, settling them in for some rest, “for as long as you want.”

——————————

Patton is in the kitchen, the first one downstairs this morning. There’s already a pot of coffee brewing and he sets the kettle up on the counter. He reaches up to pull the mugs for everyone. The plain black one for Logan, the Nightmare Before Christmas one for Virgil, the sparkly one for Remus, and the blue puppy one for himself. He frowns.

Roman used to keep his mug down here too. This really big red one with a golden crown on the side. He hasn’t seen it in ages.

Footsteps on the stairs.

He turns and sees Roman walk into the kitchen, smiling brightly as if there’s nothing wrong in the world, not a seam or stitch of his prince costume out of place. He strides into the room like he owns it, as if he’s just come down the stairs in his resplendent palace to a crown of adoring onlookers.

“Ah! Patton!” Goodness, he speaks like it too. “Good morning!”

“Roman!” Patton rushes forward and wraps him in a hug.

This is where everything goes wrong.

Roman tenses. Not in a way that means he wants out, but out of sheer surprise. Patton waits for Roman’s arms to wrap around him but instead, there’s just a very, very soft touch to his shoulder.

“Patton,” he asks quietly, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m great, kiddo, why?”

“W-well, you’re…you’re hugging me.”

“Sure am.”

“…why?”

Suddenly Patton feels very cold.

He pulls back, not enough to let Roman go completely, but enough to look up and see a truly heartbreaking look of confusion on his face. He can’t help the soft noise that comes out of his mouth as he raises one hand to his face.

“Are you asking why I’m hugging you?” Roman nods. “I want to hug you, kiddo. You’re hug-shaped.”

“I’m…what?”

“Hug-shaped,” Patton repeats, tugging him a little closer with the arm still around his waist, “you’re worth hugging, I like hugging you.”

“O-oh.”

And Patton has to watch as every scrap of confidence falls from Roman’s expression, his shoulders slump, and he looks like he loses some of his height, even. The shift is so drastic that it almost springs tears to his eyes at how much Prince Roman suddenly looks like a lost child, swimming in a costume too big and too heavy for him. Roman face contorts as he looks at a spot on the counter, furrowing his brow as if it’ll explain everything to him if he just glares hard enough.

There’s something fragile about the way Roman leans into Patton’s hand, something breakable about how warm he is right now. Patton shifts his weight to his other leg and there’s a flash of panic in Roman’s eyes, quickly stifled but there.

“Oh, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pulling Roman back in for a proper hug, “I’m right here, it’s okay. You just let it out, okay?”

Roman’s breathe shudders a little into Patton’s shoulder. Then he starts pushing Patton away.

Patton listens, confused, until he watches Roman shake himself and put the mask of the prince right back on.

“Terribly sorry,” he says in the awful, awful cheerful voice as he rakes a hand through his hair, “don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t,” Patton blurts before he can stop himself, “don’t do that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t do what, Padre?”

“Don’t pretend,” he says, reaching out for Roman again, “you don’t have to pretend you’re okay. Or that you don’t want something.”

“I don’t like being needy, Patton,” Roman says in a soft voice that’s just this side of wobbly, “and you don’t like me needy.”

And doesn’t that just feel hot and guilty in Patton’s throat?

“I like you, sweetheart,” he says instead, “and you’re not being needy if you want comfort or even just a touch. You’re allowed to want something, Roman, you are.”

Roman huffs in disbelief and turns.

“No, Roman—“ Patton hurries to get in front of him— “you are.”

Something flickers across Roman’s expression. Patton doesn’t even need Janus to tell him that Roman thinks he’s walking into a trap.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Patton says quietly, “I’ve hurt you so much, haven’t I? I’ve made you think that your job is wrong, that you—that you’re wrong and you’re not, kiddo. You’re not wrong. You’re not awful. I promise.”

Roman’s lip wobbles.

“Oh, come here, sweetheart,” Patton coos, wrapping him back in a hug, and finally, finally Roman’s arms come up to wrap around him too, before he’s being squeezed so tight it borders on painful.

Patton doesn’t care.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” He rocks them back and forth a little as Roman buries his face in his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, I know we will.”

They stay like that until the kettle goes off and Roman startles, jumping back a little bit. Patton soothes away the last of the jitters and smiles, watching Roman look like…Roman. Not the Prince, not the horribly lost child, just…just Roman.

“I think that’s my cue to make you the biggest mug of hot chocolate you’ve had since Christmas,” he says quietly, “now what mug would you like?”

Roman glances at the cabinet. “Anyone is fine.”

“Then why don’t you go grab one while I get the hot chocolate?”

Patton busies himself with the box, purposely letting Roman have his privacy as he picks out a mug, trying not to make his smile too blinding when he turns and sees Roman shyly hold out a big red mug with a sparkly crown.

“Good choice,” he says softly as he takes it from him, “I missed this mug.”

Judging by the way Roman’s mouth curls up in a little smile, he knows what Patton meant.

——————————

Virgil walks into the room and sees Roman sprawled out across the chair. He almost doesn’t see it.

He’s got to give it to Janus; even though he knows he can hear lies, he’s not sure he would’ve believed that they were actually coming from Roman. Because Roman looks the fucking picture of relaxed right now. It looks like he saw Patton and Logan on the couch and decided there wasn’t enough room for him to take up as much space as he wants. It looks like he’s occupying the entire fucking corner and not just the chair. It looks like he’s every bit the arrogant prince they used to think he was.

Then he sees how tight his jaw is and the slight tremble of his hands.

The room isn’t warm, there’s no reason for Princey to be shivering. There’s certainly no reason for him to be so tense as he sits in the chair, tapping a pen against his cheek in a fabulous impression of mindless thinking but is actually a carefully controlled way of preventing himself from moving any further.

He’s gotta hand it to him. Princey’s good.

Virgil walks up to Roman and shoves his hands into his pockets as Roman looks up.

“Dark and Stormy,” he says in a perfected casual lilt, “is there something I can do for you?”

And wow, okay, if this is what Janus hears all the time then Virgil has no idea how he fucking does it.

Janus hears lies, Virgil hears fears.

Please don’t make me leave.

If you want the chair I’l give it to you, I’ll move, I’ll sit on the floor, I’ll be quiet, but please don’t make me go. I want to stay, please, can I—can I stay? Is that okay?

Virgil tilts his head. “Move the book.”

Roman furrows his brow. “What?”

“The book.” Virgil nods to the notebook in Roman’s lap. “Move it. Move your arm.”

Confused, Roman does as he asks only to squeak in surprise when Virgil pronounces it perfect and plonks himself in Roman’s lap.

“Virgil!”

“Yeah?” Virgil pulls out his phone and leans his head against Roman’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“You—you’re—“ Roman still doesn’t move— “you’re in my lap.”

“Sure am.” Virgil looks up at him and lowers his voice to a whisper. “No?”

Roman’s voice drops too. “What?”

Virgil indicates his weight. “No? This okay?”

“Y-yeah, it’s fine, I just—what?”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Virgil reaches behind him to take Roman’s free hand and pull it close, tucking it under his chin and clutching it there. Roman’s hand trembles. He finds himself absentmindedly running his thumb over the knuckles, the palm, the fingers. He keeps his eyes on Roman’s face.

Roman’s other arm lowers, gingerly resting on Virgil’s legs. Virgil smiles and squeezes his hand.

“I’m sorry, Princey,” he whispers, “I’ve been fucking awful to you.”

Roman’s face twitches. “…so have I.”

“What, been awful to me or awful to you?”

For a moment, he thinks Roman’s just going to say that he’s been awful to Virgil. Which, yes, he was in the past, but not like Virgil’s been. But instead, Roman opens his mouth and shakily whispers: ‘both.’

“I know, Princey.” Virgil squeezes his hand again. “You’re all good with me, and we can…if you want, I can help with the second part too.”

Roman’s eyes widen and godfuckingdamnit that hurts.

“I gotcha, Roman,” he says softly, lacing their fingers together, “and ‘m sorry I haven’t been there for you recently.”

Roman swallows, Virgil’s eyes drawn to the roll of his throat. “You…you want to help me?”

Roman, you’re gonna ruin my reputation of not having a heart by smashing it into fucking pieces.

“Yeah, Roman,” he reassures, “I wanna help you. You’re important.”

“I am?”

“Sure are, Princey.” He lightly knocks his head against Roman’s. “And if it ever feels like I don’t believe that, call me out on my bullshit. ‘Cause that’s bullshit.”

“What are you two muttering about over there?” Patton shakes his head fondly when Virgil decides to just turn his head upside down instead of turning around. “Virgil, that’s not good for your spine.”

“We’re metaphysical, Pop-star, who cares?”

“When you start complaining about neck pain,” Logan says wryly, “me.”

He glances up too and Virgil hides a smirk at how his face softens when he spots Roman’s expression.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Roman says hurriedly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s Hug Roman time,” Virgil says immediately after, “so I’m hugging Roman.”

“I think that’s less of a hug than you sitting on his lap,” Logan says, standing, “but we’ll never fit all of us on that chair.”

Virgil feels more than hears Roman’s inhale as Logan and Patton start moving the couch cushions to the floor. He sits back upright just in time to see Roman’s hopeful face and butts his head against his again.

“Come on, Princey, let’s go.”

“…are you going to stand up, or…?”

“Or you could carry me.”

“Virgil,” he hears Patton chide.

“No, no,” Roman says, “it’s fine, I can carry him if he wants to be carried. I will need my hand back, though.”

Okay, yes, Virgil does enjoy Roman carrying him a bit too much for altruistic purposes but it’s worth it when Roman goes to gently set him down and the other two pull him down instead.

“There,” Logan says softly as Roman’s head comes to rest against the base of the couch, “much better.”

Roman opens his mouth to say something when Logan’s hand tangles in his hair and it turns into a slightly strangled sound. Patton chuckles, wrapping his arms around Roman and sighing softly.

“Hey, who wants to play a game?”

Remus’s head pops up from behind the couch.

“We’re already playing a game,” Virgil says, “it’s called Cuddle Roman, now get your butt down here.”

Remus gasps. “My favorite!”

“Okay good,” Virgil mutters as he moves out of Roman’s lap to make room for Remus, “I totally thought he was talking about butts.”

“I have a feeling, my dear,” Janus sighs, striding from the shadows and totally not making Virgil jump, “that it’s both.”

Remus just cackles. Janus takes a seat, reaching out to take one of Roman’s hands in his. Roman frowns at him slightly, his head still spinning from the amount of people around him.

“What—is there something wrong?”

Janus shakes his head. “It’s Hug Roman hours. So I’m here.”

Vigil chuckles at the blush on Roman’s face. “So this is becoming a regular thing, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Indeed.”

“Yay!”

Remus just holds his brother tighter.

——————————

“…come in.”

“If you’d like to reschedule, Roman, it’s no trouble, I’m happy to…”

Logan trails off as he walks into the room, Roman’s back to him as he hunches over a table near the door to the Imagination. He shuts the door quietly behind him and tucks the notebook under his arm.

“Roman?” He takes a step forward. “Are you alright?”

“Never better, Specs,” Roman says cheerily, too cheerily, “just give me one moment and I’m all yours.”

Logan frowns. “If you’d like to reschedule, Roman,” he repeats, softer this time, “I can assure you, it’s fine.”

“No, no, that’d be rude.” Something crinkles in Roman’s hands. “Just—just one moment.”

There’s a heavy clunk and a barely contained hiss.

“Roman—“ he starts forward— “are you hurt?”

“Not hurt.” Another clunk. “Just…incredibly clumsy, it seems.”

“Can I help?”

If he weren’t paying attention, he would miss the way Roman’s shoulders tense with disbelief.

“N-no, that’s alright,” Roman says, the first time his voice has slipped, “I’m just…no, it’s alright.”

He jerks his head toward the desk, being very careful not to let Logan see his face.

“It’s over there, I’ll be with you in one moment.”

Logan looks, then walks over to the desk and carefully sets down his notebook. He glances up at Roman and can’t stop the soft noise at seeing Roman’s hands shake and fumble with a large bottle.

“Roman,” he calls softly, “Roman, please.”

Roman freezes.

“…please what?”

“Let me help you,” he says, walking over, “let me help you with this.”

Roman shudders and tries to laugh again. “You don’t need to busy yourself with inane and worthless tasks, Logan.”

Oh. Oh, dear.

“You’re not inane or worthless, Roman,” he says firmly, “nor are you a task.”

Roman’s shoulder is cold under his hand. He cups it nonetheless and leans closer, mindful to keep his gaze down and away.

“Please?”

Under his hand, Roman sighs. “…if that’s what you want.”

He’s not prepared for when Roman turns around, a bottle of micellar water in one hand and cotton ovals in the other. His makeup—done so wonderfully this morning—is smeared and wearing away, his nose bright red under the concealer. Logan lets out another soft noise, taking the proffered items and gently pushing Roman to sit on the table.

He takes one of the cotton ovals and gets it damp, cupping Roman’s chin in one hand.

“Let me know if anything starts to sting or hurt,” he instructs softly and starts to clean the smudges from his face. Roman sits perfectly still, his gaze down at Logan’s tie. His hands fold neatly in his lap and he looks every bit the cooperative ideal.

Except for the way he looks terrified every time Logan so much as shifts his hand.

“You are not worthless,” Logan says quietly as he works, swapping out the cotton ovals when needed, “you are not annoying me. You are someone I care about very deeply and someone I enjoy helping.”

Roman’s chin wobbles.

“I am always impressed by the ideas you create,” he continues after quietly bidding Roman to turn slightly, “and you never cease to amaze me with your creativity.”

Roman’s throat works against his hand as he swallows. “Remus—“

“Remus is Remus,” Logan interrupts gently, “turn—yes, there you go—and you are Roman. You are clever, you are kind, and you are wonderful, and I care about you very much.”

He takes a new cotton oval and takes Roman’s chin again, tapping gently until Roman makes eye contact.

“Close your eyes,” he bids, “and let me know if they start to sting at any point.”

Roman closes his eyes and Logan carefully, carefully starts to clean off the eyeshadow. The golden sparkles are stubborn, clinging to the skin, but he works patiently until the last of them come off. He realizes after that the oval is wetter than it was when he began.

“Oh, little star,” he breathes, glancing around and summoning a soft washcloth to clean Roman’s face the rest of the way, “it’s alright, you can cry if you need to. I won’t mind.”

“It’s stupid,” Roman mutters, raising a hand to swipe angrily at the tears, “it’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, it’s not stupid.” Logan gently but firmly places Roman’s hands on his own shoulders and replaces them with the cloth. “Tell me?”

“I—it’s not even a quest.” Roman’s voice cracks horribly on the last word. “It’s just—I was making something and it broke and I—I worked really hard on it and now it’s ruined.”

Logan lets out a soft noise. “I’m sorry.”

His chest aches when the apology makes Roman shake himself. “It’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t want to just dump that on you.”

“I asked you to tell me what was wrong,” Logan chides, patting his cheek dry, “you’re not dumping anything on me.”

He sets the cloth aside and cups Roman’s face with his hands.

“And I am also sorry,” he whispers, “that I have made you believe that I do not worry about you the same way I worry about Thomas.”

Roman’s eyes fly open. “You—you what?”

“I care about you very deeply, Roman,” Logan says, “you’re very important to me. So yes, of course, I worry about you. You’re upset, and I’ve made you feel like you can’t come to me. I…I have not behaved well toward you. And I will remedy that.”

A new wave of tears meets Logan’s thumbs carefully swiping them away.

“Bonk?”

Roman leans forward and lets Logan rest their foreheads together. After a moment, his hands move to give Roman a proper hug, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

“What were you making, if I may ask?”

“…just a house.” Roman sniffles. “It got destroyed in the last brainstorm.”

“Would you like help?”

“…don’t we have to work on the ideas?”

Logan smiles, resting their foreheads together once more. “This feels more important, doesn’t it?”

Roman’s small but warm smile is more than worth the extra hours they’ll have to spend working on the videos.

——————————

Somehow they forgot.

Somehow they forgot that Roman was scared of the dark.

It wasn’t common that thunderstorms plagued the Imagination, simply because—well, Thomas didn’t need literal brainstorms when he’s got Logan working with him. Sure, sometimes Remus decides he’s going to make his entrance extra cliché and arrive in a literal flash of lightning. Or Roman will create a field of flowers larger than the eye can see and soft bruised purple clouds will roll across the sky, quiet thunder and light rain that feels like a cushion.

But it’s never enough to cause a blackout.

For a moment, they’re all just confused. Thomas’s apartment is fine, Thomas is fine, so they don’t understand what’s happened. Then Remus points out that they, uh, maybe didn’t close the door to the Imagination as tightly as they should have.

He gets smacked upside the head for that.

So they’re here, in the middle of the dark, trying frantically to figure out how to not run into everything. Well, three of them are fine. Virgil can see in the dark. Janus can see in the dark. Remus can see in the dark.

“Is that because you’re the Dark Sides,” Patton mumbles as he puts his glasses back on for the fifth time in the past minute, “or do you each have some kind of ability?”

Remus smiles, even if Patton can’t see it. “It’s more fun!”

“That doesn’t—“ Logan pinches the bridge of his nose— “that doesn’t even answer the question, Remus.”

“I think you’ll find that’s his justification for most things,” Janus says wryly, taking Patton carefully by the arm and guiding him to sit on the couch, safely out of harm’s way.

Virgil elbows Remus to get him to put down the Morningstar, please, and sits down next to Patton. “How long is this going to take to go away?”

Remus shrugs. “Dunno. Probably won’t be that long. We all just gotta sit tight.”

Janus raises a hand to his mouth—not that Logan can truly appreciate his expression—and mock gasps. “Remus, suggesting that we don’t do anything?”

“Oh, fuck off, Snakey.”

“Language!”

Remus blows a fat raspberry. “Even I know it’s a bad idea to try and do something right now. I mean ask Roman—“

It takes a moment for them to realize that Roman isn’t sitting there.

“We should go get him,” Logan says after a moment, “just to make sure we’re all in the same place.”

And with that, Remus is off, stomping up the stairs and conveniently forgetting that two Sides can’t see past the little pinpricks of light at the bottom of the windows. Virgil rolls his eyes and makes to stand, only to frown.

“Virgil?” Logan touches his elbow when he notices him pause. “Are you alright?”

“Feels like I’m being summoned.” He rubs his chest absentmindedly. “But not really.”

“Well, let’s just keep an eye on—hey!”

Virgil doesn’t even hear the end of Logan’s sentence before he’s yanked into another room.

He blinks, disoriented, shaking his head to figure out where he is. Only when Remus bursts up the stairs and pouts that how dare Virgil sink out to beat him here does he realize why he’s here.

Judging by the way Remus’s face falls a second later, he does too.

Remus knocks lightly on the door. After a moment, he curses and goes to knock louder.

“Don’t,” Virgil mutters, grabbing Remus’s arm, “you’re gonna freak him out more.”

“Well, I can’t just blow the fucking door open,” he growls, shaking him off, “that’s gonna make it worse.”

He opens his mouth but another sharp tug from his chest makes him wince. “Okay, then don’t bust it down. Just—oh, god, we gotta get in there.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

Remus doesn’t rear back and kick the door open, which says something about how concerned he is. They can’t see much of anything except for—

—oh.

Oh, no.

Roman notices immediately when the blackout happens. How could he not? He’d been in the middle of trying to sort out his journal for the day when suddenly he was drowning.

Oh god.

Oh, god.

Within an instant, his chest seizes. He can’t see. He can’t see. There’s something—

No. No, it’s fine. He’s in his room. Everything is fine. Because he’s safe. He’s in his room, he knows where everything is, he knows what everything is in here, he’s fine.

There’s nothing here to be scared of. There’s nothing here to be scared of.

So why is Roman so scared?

He shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be. He’s a prince, for Disney’s sake, he’s the protector of the Mindscape, he’s—he’s—

He’s Prince Roman. Not some newly minted squire crying because he’s away from home for the first time and it’s all dark and scary and he can’t see anything because he doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t tell where anything is and he swears he can see things moving in the shadows and—and—and—

Roman shoves his fist in his mouth before he can whimper.

No. No. He’s fine.

He’s fine.

…besides, what would the others say?

He’s a prince. He’s Roman. He’s not some scared weak thing. He’s just—he’s just—it’s—it’s—

They can’t see him like this. He’s supposed to be strong. He’ll never be taken seriously if they don’t see that he can be strong. They don’t take him seriously already, do they? Let alone if they could see him in the dark, alone, hyperventilating, terrified.

But he is.

He’s—he—

Something moves.

Oh, god, something moved.

He freezes, goes absolutely still, tries frantically to still his heaving chest, be small, be unnoticeable, his pride doesn’t matter right now, it doesn’t, he’s not gonna be hurt if he can’t be seen—

“Ro-Bro?”

His next inhale is a whine.

No, no, not Remus—he can’t—not Remus, Remus is strong, Remus will laugh at him, Remus loves the dark, he can’t cry in front of Remus, not for this—

“Oh, Ro-Bro,” he hears through the haze, “Ro-Bro, I’m so fucking sorry, I forgot, hey—hey—“

He won’t cry. He won’t cry. He won’t cry.

“Hey,” Remus calls, tugging carefully at the hand clapped over his mouth, “hey, don’t do that, Roro, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop it, it’s gonna fucking hurt if you do that, you know that—“

The sob that tears itself out of his throat as Remus pries his hand away hurts his ears.

“Hey, Roro,” Remus soothes, taking his hands and squeezing them firmly, “hey, you gotta just be here for me, you focus on me, okay?”

“Re—“

“Come here, Ro.”

Remus scoops him up into his lap. To hell with whatever is twisting around in the shadows, Remus is holding him in his lap, rocking him back and forth and Remus is of the dark.

A rush of shame through his stomach and the first real sob into Remus’s shoulder hurts.

“Nuh-uh, Ro,” comes the mutter over his head, “don’t hold it in.”

The shame only grows. Then Remus tightens his grip until it’s all he can feel.

“I’m right here, Ro, I’m right here. It’s okay. You can be scared.”

“N-not scared.”

A gentle hiss in his ear as something—someone presses against his back and more arms than he can count wrap around his chest.

“Shh, shh,” Remus murmurs as he starts, “it’s just Janny.”

“Boo,” Janus whispers as he presses a kiss on his shoulder. Why—why is he here—did he—did he lie too much? He’s not scared, he’s not scared—

“Shh, sweetie,” he whispers as Roman starts to flinch, “I’ve got you, you’re okay, sweetie, stop that. We’ve got you.”

“You’re scared, bud.” Is that—is that Virgil? “Hey, hey, buddy, we got you. I’m sorry, Roman, I forgot you were so scared of the dark.”

Can’t be scared, can’t be scared—

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “stop that. You’re allowed to be scared, it’s okay. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

Virgil presses closer, nudging Janus’s head out of the way and replacing it with his own. He leans down to nuzzle into the crook of Roman’s neck, finding the place his collar digs into his neck and loosening it. Curse him. Curse him.

“Hey, bud,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“N-no—“

Janus hisses gently in his ear again.

“No—“ Roman’s breath hitches— “no, no, no—“

“Roman,” comes Logan’s warm voice from somewhere above him, and no—

“Give him to me,” he hears again after a moment, and when he feels Remus’s arms begin to loosen and Janus pulls away he mewls—

“Hush, little one,” Logan says softly, gathering the poor prince into his lap, “you’re safe, you’re right here, it’s just a blackout.”

“You’ll—“ Roman hiccups, his hands still pushing Logan away from him— “you’ll laugh—“

“Never,” comes the chorus, Logan’s arms firmly around his waist. Then another pair of hands covers his and pulls them away.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, gently but firmly placing his arms around Logan’s neck so Logan can cuddle him properly, “sorry it took us a little longer to get here, we had to take it slow up the stairs.”

“Pat—Pat—“

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patton coos, crouching down to run a hand through his hair as Logan tucks him into the crook of his neck and Virgil rests his head on his shoulder, “we’re all here, it’s okay.”

“Stupid—st—stupid,” Roman mumbles, “I’m stupid—“

Another hiss, followed by a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Stop lying, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “stop it. You’re not stupid.”

“I’m a prince afraid of the dark,” Roman spits out, disgusted, “of course I’m stupid.”

“Falsehood,” Logan murmurs with more tenderness than Roman can remember, “you’re not stupid. You’re not.”

“I’m crying because I’m afraid of the dark,” he spits again, “I’m af-fraid of the dark—I’m afraid of the dark, I’m—I’m afraid—“

He’s afraid of the dark.

Patton presses a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t like the dark either, sweetheart.”

“You’re—you’re not—you’re not crying—“

“No, I’m not.” Another kiss. “But you are, Roman, and that’s okay.”

“Come on, Princey.” Virgil butts his head gently against Roman’s. “You just gotta breathe first, okay? We’re not going anywhere.”

Remus calls from somewhere over his shoulder—what has he been doing? Where’s he been?— “come on, I got all the pillows.”

“Re?”

“Come on, Ro-Bro,” Remus murmurs, appearing at his other shoulder, “close your eyes.”

“It’s already d-dark, Re.”

“I know, but I don’t wanna get the blanket in your eyes.” Suddenly, there’s a swath of fabric hitting him in the face. “It’s just for a moment, Roro.”

“Ready?” Logan scoops him up. “Up we go.”

“H-how can you see?”

“He can’t,” Janus says, suddenly appearing behind him, “but I can. Come now, my prince, we’re just over here, come on…”

Roman lets out a soft noise of surprise when his back hits something soft.

“Snap yourself into something more comfortable, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’re all just going to stay here for a while.”

Patton takes his hand and kisses the back of it as Logan helps tug down the t-shirt he’s poofed himself into.

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles, “I’m sorry I’m so scared.”

“None of that now, sweetheart,” Patton chides, cuddling into his side—oh, Patton’s in soft things too now— “you’re gonna be taken care of now. We’re right here.”

“I’m right here, Ro-Bro,” Remus says, promptly flopping down over Roman’s legs, “and no one else is going anywhere.”

Virgil huffs, curling around his head and ruffling his hair. “He’s right, Princey. Just relax for a little.”

“H-how long is the blackout going to last?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Janus says, snuggling into his other side, taking his hand between two of his, “but we’ll be here the whole time. Now please, sweetie, breathe.”

He tries. But it’s still dark and even though he knows the others are here, he can still feel the darkness pressing in on top of him. He can still see things moving in the shadows. He can feel it. He can see it. It hurts.

“Roman,” comes Logan’s voice, warm in the dark, “Roman, listen to me.”

“L-Logan?”

“Yes, dear,” he says, “it’s alright. Virgil is by your head, and he can see in the dark.”

Virgil gives his hair a little tug. “Right here, Princey. I’ve got you.”

“Patton is on your left. He won’t let anything hurt you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses his cheek. “I won’t leave you.”

“Janus is on your right. He can also see in the dark, and it’s his job to protect you.”

Janus leans down to kiss his temple and squeezes his hand. “My prince,” he murmurs tenderly, “my sweetie.”

“And Remus…”

“Nothing’s laying a fucking finger on you, Ro-Bro,” Remus growls from down by his feet, “they’re gonna have to get through me first.”

Logan chuckles. “See?”

“L-Logan?”

“I’m right here, little star,” he says softly, “what do you need?”

“W—where are you?” Roman’s hands tense in Patton’s and Janus’s. “Where—I—I can’t—“

“Hush now,” Logan says, so softly, so softly, as a hand cups his cheek to brush away his tears, “I’m right here, I know you can’t see me. I’m sorry. I know it’s dark. I know you’re afraid. It’s okay, my dear, shh.”

Roman tries to reach out for him only to be thwarted by the grip on his hands.

“Hush, Roman, it’s alright, what can I do?”

“S-stay, please, stay—I want you to stay—“

“I’m right here, can I—“

“Please—“

He almost sobs again with relief when Logan lies down, his head tucked over his shoulder, curling his arms about his waist.

“We’re right here, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses the back of his hand.

“It’s okay to be scared, Princey.”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Roro.”

It takes another half an hour for the storm to end and the lights to flicker back on. Roman stays tucked up in their arms, their soft words in his ear, gentle hands wiping away his tears, until he can blink up at all of them and murmur ‘thank you.’

“Of course, sweetie.”

“We’re here for you, Roman.”

“It’s no problem, Princey.”

“We’ve got you, kiddo.”

“All you gotta do is ask, Roro.”

——————————

Remus knocks on the door, the present in his hands. Roman opens the door and tilts his head.

“Re?”

“Can I come in, Ro-Bro?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on.” Roman shuts the door. “What’s up?”

“This is for you,” Remus says, holding out the box.

“Oh—Remus, I didn’t—I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t miss anything, Ro,” Remus says quickly, “and I’m not expecting anything in return. Just wanted to give you something.”

He shuffles.

“And I, uh, I also haven’t really apologized for the shit I’ve done to you, so…it’s that too.”

“O-oh.” Roman clutches the box. “Thank you, Remus. Can I open it now?”

“Sure.” He watches as Roman carefully opens the box and pulls out the stuffed octopus.

“Oh, Re, this is so cute!” He holds it up, looking at the little face. “I love it, thank you.”

He turns it over.

“Wait, what’s…”

“It’s a mood toy,” Remus says quietly, “if you flip it this way, it’s happy.”

The cream side of the octopus has a little smiley face.

“And if you turn it inside out—“ Roman flips the plush so that a red face frowns at him— “it’s sad.”

Roman’s eyes widen and he looks up at Remus.

“I know you find it hard to ask for things,” Remus says, edging a bit closer, “so I thought this could…help.”

“Re…”

“And I—oof!” Remus lets out a grunt as Roman tackles him onto the bed. He chuckles, his arms wrapping tightly around his brother. “I’m glad you like it Roro, just promise me you’ll use it?”

He gets his request a few days later.

It’s been quiet, Thomas is taking a break, and they’re all in various corners of the living room. Janus and Virgil are lazing about in the patch of sun by the window, Patton is in the kitchen, Logan is working on something on his laptop, and Remus is toying with the grip on his Morningstar.

Roman walks down the stairs and he’s clutching a little red octopus.

“Hey, Ro,” Remus says quietly, hopping up and scurrying over to meet him as he comes down the stairs, “you wanna go be alone?”

Roman shakes his head, pushing gingerly into the living room. Remus turns to see everyone paying attention to them, including Janus, who’s sat up fully and is reaching out to Roman.

“Come here, sweetie,” he calls, “is your brain being a bastard?”

Distantly, Remus hears Patton huff at the language but no one says a word as Janus gathers Roman into his chest, bending to murmur softly in his ear. Virgil scoots closer, acting as the guardian, letting Roman relax with the knowledge that nothing will surprise him right now. A gentle tap on Remus’s shoulder and he turns to see Logan, who bends closer.

“What do we do to help?”

“Help me make a mattress big enough for all of us?”

Under Logan’s guidance, Remus manages to make a normal mattress with lots of comfy blankets and pillows. Patton comes from the kitchen with a glass of water set on the table near the three on the floor. He pauses as he turns and quickly sets a cup of tea next to it.

Roman’s grip on the octopus doesn’t lighten up, even after he’s been in Janus’s arms for a while, even after Logan’s gone over and helped Virgil walk him through coming out of the spiral. Janus walks over to Remus and Patton and quietly tells them they should try and get them all to eat something. Nothing too straining for Roman’s system, but something.

Patton brings out a few bowls of snack food and sets them at the foot of the mattress. Then he goes and gently cards his hands through Roman’s hair.

“Come on, kiddos,” he says softly, “let’s move to the mattress.”

Logan scoops Roman into his arms, depositing him safely in the center of the mattress, little red octopus in tow. The rest of them cuddle around him, some Disney movie playing on the TV. Roman eats, then lays his head on Remus’s shoulder. Logan takes Roman’s free hand into his lap and cradles it there, stroking it with his thumb.

About halfway through the movie, Roman turns the octopus so that the cream side smiles at the screen too.

General:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #logan sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #patton sanders #virgil sanders

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whump-advent-calendar · 4 years ago

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🎄WHUMP ADVENT CALENDAR🎄

Sooo, it’s finally time! Now, the little picture thingy above might look confusing at first, but don’t worry, I’ll explain all the prompts right here.

Also, since there were people who wanted the prompts to be shown early, but also people who wanted them to be a surprise, I decided to compromise - I will add a little something to each prompt when the time comes :D It will be something similar to what I’m going to add to the alternate prompts, which will hopefully be posted later today. 😅

Information about tagging and posting is under the read more :D

1 – Baby it’s cold outside

(1st – 3rd December)

Hypothermia 🎄 Locked outside overnight 🎄 Cuddling for warmth

2 – Kiss by candle light

(4th – 6th December)

Candles 🎄 Burns (either because of the flame or the hot wax) 🎄 Fear of fire

3 – All the lights and decorations put up in anticipation

(7th – 9th December)

Christmas decorations 🎄 Using them to tie someone up / for torture 🎄 Putting them up together

4 – Break the ice

(10th – 12th December)

Ice and cold water 🎄 Falling through ice 🎄 Ice skating

5 – Isn’t it a little early for this?

(13th - 15th December)

Fireworks 🎄 Explosion 🎄 Working with pyrotechnics gone wrong

6 – The smell of gingerbread and vanilla

(16th - 18th December)

“I made this for you but I‘m not sure it’s edible.” 🎄 Poisoned 🎄 Baking

7- Nightmare before Christmas

(19th - 21st December)

Nightmares and night terrors 🎄 PTSD 🎄 “It’s okay, it was just a dream..”

8 – Christmas Day

(22nd - 24th December)

Christmas celebrations 🎄 Spending the holidays in captivity 🎄 With found family

🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄

Alt 1

🎁 Sick during the holidays 🎁

Alt 2

🎁 Presents 🎁

Alt 3

🎁 Coming together 🎁

🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄

Now, some more info and rules😂

You can post whenever you want, just please wait until December :D

Please @ this blog in every post you make for this event, putting #wac2020 in the tags is fine too but this seems more reliable 😅 also if you tag me and I don’t reblog your post in a day, it’s probably because tumblr didn’t let me know you tagged me - in that case dm me, send asks, any way to let me know is fine so don’t hesitate contact me if this happens (I remember how frustrated I was when none of my whumptober posts got reblogged)

Make sure to put trigger warning in the tags if needed

You can use any media you want, and both fandom related and original content is welcome! 😃

The prompts can be combined, posted in different order or even slightly changed - as long as you at least loosely stick to the original one 😃

Alrighty, that should be it.. If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to send an ask! 😄

Oh oh, and everyone who participates gets a little surprise in the end of December 👀 Have fun and stay safe!

#whump advent calendar #wac2020 #event info #eventinfo2020 #prompt list

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beholdthemem · 3 years ago

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The 1992 Nockfell Junior High Christmas Concert Incident: Part 4

(It is still my birthday for another hour or so, and if I wanna celebrate by writing self-indulgent fanfic, then that’s what I’m gonna do.)

In which middle schoolers are used as an instrument of sabotage, and some backstory is given.

Mr. Parker," Todd said, staring nostalgically off into thin air. "How did I manage to forget about him?"

"How DID you manage to forget about him?" Larry asked in disbelief, emerging at last from the dark cloud he'd been stuck in since Ash had begun talking. "I was still having nightmares about the guy three years later!"

"He wasn't so bad." Todd waved a dismissive hand. "All you had to do was stay out of trouble and do whatever he asked."

"Oh, so there was no WAY he was ever going to like me."

"Whatever he asked?" Sal repeated. He still seemed less engaged in the story than Ash was used to from him, but the fact that he was asking questions was a good sign. This was the first time she'd heard him actually offer input in a discussion without prompting in weeks, and the flash of surprise in Todd's eyes told her she wasn't the only one who'd noticed. "I thought you guys said he didn't talk."

"He did not." Todd recovered smoothly, shrugging as he did so. "At least, not that I ever heard. But while I worked in the office, he would leave notes requesting various tasks get accomplished. At some point, he seemed to notice that I got things done in a more timely fashion than anyone else there, and began addressing memos to me by name. The staff members did not appreciate it."

"You worked in the office?" Neil looked torn between amusement and affection. "So you were always a little old man, huh?"

"You were a T.A.!" Todd sputtered as Ash snorted with laughter. "You GRADED MY PAPERS!"

"In high school, though! You were already doing this in seventh grade-"

"What difference does that make?"

"Just that you got started in office work so early-"

"Did they give you a mug?" Larry joined in. "Like, in the teacher's lounge?"

"I wasn't a teacher."

"But were you allowed in the lounge?"

"Why would I be allowed in the lounge if I wasn't a teacher?"

"I feel like you're dodging the question…."

"I am not."

"So what happened next?" Sal asked, cutting Todd's interrogation short. "Who ended up getting rescheduled?"

"Nobody." Larry said darkly.

------

"She's acting like we're at war," Ash managed faintly, standing outside the band room with a box of full sized candy bars. She had gotten a look at the receipt in the wastepaper basket before Ms. Petrikov had sent her and Trish to go wait for the orchestra kids to arrive. Each had cost more than two weeks' worth of Ash's allowance. "We're supposed to… to bribe people? Can't she get in serious trouble for that?"

"Oh, totally," Trish said dismissively from over her own box. It had been two weeks since Ash had lent her the barrette on the first day of school, and since then, Trish had made an effort to take her under her wing. "That's why she's having US do it."

“But WHY?” Ash demanded. “She’s having us- students who she's grading, who can't say no to her-"

"Well, you could," Trish shrugged, unconcerned.

"Would you?" Ash challenged.

"Oh, God no. I'm just trying to get through the day."

"Would she flunk me if I did?" Ash shifted the box so it was now balanced against her hip, and began gnawing at the thumbnail of her free hand. She was well acquainted with failure. She'd never gotten a better grade than a D in any math class in her life. But she'd never had a teacher actively fail her for anything other than poor academic performance.

Would Ms. Petrikov do it out of spite?

"Teachers can't give you an F for anything not based on curriculum standards," Trish said, sounding as though she was parroting something she'd been forced to memorize and didn't particularly believe. "They have forms they fill out to fail someone, they have to choose categories about what standard you didn't meet. They can't just invent something."

"You're going to tell me she wouldn't lie, if I made her mad enough?"

Trish examined Ash for a moment as though reevaluating her. "No," she said finally. "No, she definitely would. She's not allowed, none of them are, but…"

"Teachers lie," Ash finished. Trish nodded.

"I'm probably not supposed to tell you that. You're supposed to have a few more years believing that grown ups mean well and follow rules before your childhood innocence dies-"

"I'm twelve, not two," Ash said, rolling her eyes. Trish made a conciliatory noise, shrugging again. "Sorry, sorry. It all turns into such a blur after you hit thirteen-"

"What, a year ago?"

"But anyway- yeah. Ms. Petrikov doesn't take 'no' well at the best of times. If one of us said it to her- especially right now, about this…"

"I just don't get why she cares! We're supposed give chocolate to any band kid who'll agree to purposefully play badly during Ms. Ludwig’s concert-”

“I wouldn’t admit that where anyone could overhear you.” Trish advised.

“Just because she’s mad she has to share the stupid auditorium? She could get into actual trouble if somebody found out she was doing this, HUGE trouble, and she's willing to risk that just to stick it to an old lady?"

"Well," Trish pulled a face. "It's not JUST about the auditorium…"

-----

"Once upon a time, back when people said 'golly' and actually meant it, and schools had money for funding their electives, NJH hired Ms. Ludwig to teach music," Stevens began, opening a file cabinet and flicking through several folders dismissively. "Hm. They aren't doing alphabetical order anymore. Well, at least that means they can't be sure anything's missing."

"You call this place NJH?" Larry asked from over by the doorway where he'd been sent to stand lookout. Stevens had said it would be easier to have him keep watch than explain exactly what they were looking for.

"Yes?" Stevens tried another cabinet, and this time seemed to have more success. "Nockfell Junior High. What do you call it?"

"Purgatory."

"Clever. Anyway, back in the fifties, the school hired Ms. Ludwig to act as the head of their music department. At the time, that was a really big deal. They were offering a lot of voice related classes, and the people running those classes all answered to her."

"Was this before or after she went senile?" Larry muttered.

"She isn't senile," Stevens sighed.

"Like hell she isn't!" Larry exclaimed, momentarily forgetting the need for stealth. "She won't let anybody come in the room if they're wearing green because she says something bad'll happen! No one's allowed to whistle onstage without her threatening to send them to Alpha Centauri! That one time when Leslie came in with flowers from her boyfriend, she threw them out the window, screaming about bad luck-"

"Keep your voice down," Stevens admonished with the infuriating calm that Larry had come to think of as his defining feature, almost sing-song. Larry huffed irritably, but obeyed.

"We aren't supposed to be here, remember? Be careful." There was a noise a little like someone flipping quickly through the pages in a book from behind him.

"Another thing a sane teacher wouldn't have made us do." Larry growled under his breath, waiting on pins and needles for Mr. Parker to materialize out of nowhere with a raised eyebrow indicating that there was no good reason for Larry to be hanging around the Tech Room.

"Well, I can't pretend she isn't kind of eccentric," Stevens had an uncanny ability for hearing things you hadn't intended him to. "But I can't call her senile because supposedly she's always been like this. She's just… odd. Superstitious."

"Batshit."

"Maybe a little," Stevens finally conceded. "But back when they hired her, they valued the subject enough to overlook that in favor of her skills. Time passed, little things happened, and suddenly there was less money to spend than there was the year before. So the school board takes a look to see what they can live without, and they decide that maybe we don't need as many specialized music teachers. So they let a few of them go. Then a few more. And then suddenly, the entire music department is made up of whoever they can hire that semester to teach band, and Ms. Ludwig.

"I think it was only meant to be temporary. It sounds like at the time, they really DID want more music classes- but priorities change. Found it." There was a lot of rustling, and then the sound of the file cabinet closing before Stevens appeared at Larry's shoulder, something stuffed inside his coat. "Let's go. Now."

"What are those?" Larry asked as he and Stevens darted back down the hall towards the auditorium. The Tech Room, the supply closet where the drama club housed all the lighting and technical equipment a (even moderately) well-lit stage required, provided very little in the way of cover for anyone trying to sneak away from it. Speed was of the essence.

"These?" Stevens pulled the collar of his coat aside, revealing several colored plastic sheets. "Gels."

"Gel?" Larry ducked behind a trash can, pulling Stevens down with him, and took a brief moment in between furtive outward glances (ensuring, as hoped, that they hadn't been followed) to squint at the plastic again. "Is it like… dried? Dried slabs of gel? Why the fuck do we need gel?"

"Gels," Stevens said again, as if emphasis made the word make any more sense in conversation. "Not gel, gels. They're what you put in front of stage lights to make them shine in different colors."

"They don't melt?"

"No, they don't melt- they're not MADE of gel, they're just CALLED gels. They're plastic."

"Then why the fuck would you not just call them-"

"I don't know!" Stevens snapped, finally losing patience. "Nobody knows! That's just what they're called! The fine arts are full of things that don't make any sense, you just accept it and move on, all right?"

"Is that why you don't mind Ms. Ludwig?" Larry asked, slightly guilty. He and Stevens weren't exactly close, but Stevens had made a point of helping him out, even when he'd had no reason to. It wasn't something that people did for Larry very often. Whatever their differences, Larry hadn't meant to antagonize him.

"She's… a lot." Stevens admitted, looking up at the ceiling with a world-weary expression that most people didn't cultivate until their mid-thirties. "But I don't have a lot of options. Training is everything if you want to pursue music as more than just a hobby. It's not enough to just have talent, you need to know how to use it. And my family doesn't have the money for voice lessons, or special schools, or any of the ten thousand different things that everyone I'll be competing against will have had just so I can TRY to make this my career. I just have NJH, and Ms. Ludwig. It could be worse."

'Could it?' Larry very carefully did not ask. The hole in the conversation where 'Could it?' would have been, however, remained.

"She's good at what she teaches," Stevens answered the unspoken question, getting to his feet. "She believes in starting with a solid foundation, and then building on that. She gave us a lot of building blocks for free that other people would have charged for, and I've heard that more than a few of her former students have gone on to sing and teach professionally."

As glowing a recommendation as it was, positivity would have been stretching the bounds of Larry's already mediocre acting skills, so he instead opted for neutrality. "Mm."

"If given the option, would I have chosen someone with a different, less… difficult… personality? Absolutely. But she's what I got, and I owe her. We all do. So if, along with regular classes, she asks me to run some weird, slightly worrying errands- well, I'll be leaving next year, anyway. Might as well pay my debt, clear my conscience, and start ninth grade fresh somewhere with a music program knowing I earned every skill I'm using there."

"I'll still be here next year," Larry pointed out, irritated despite his best efforts.

"That's why I made sure I was the one doing the shady shit," Stevens gave a wry smile as they approached the auditorium doorway. "You're not going to get suspended just for waiting outside for somebody else who happens to be breaking rules. You didn't do anything. You didn't even know what was happening- you were hanging out with a classmate. He just told you to wait while he did something, and he'd catch up with you."

There was no good reason for the discovery that someone was looking out for him to make Larry feel as emotional as he did, so he insisted to himself it didn't. It still took a solid ten seconds of staring up at the ceiling and blinking hard before he felt ready to say anything, though.

"Still doesn't explain why we need the gels, though." He finally settled on, gruffly.

"We don't," Stevens said simply, opening the auditorium doorway. "We're taking them because these are the colors Ms Petrikov always uses to light her performances, and the techies can't give them to her if they've mysteriously disappeared."

"...oh."

#sally face #larry johnson #ashley campbell #tnjhcci

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