#just wanna curl up in bed and cry and nap for a bit idk

[buildarocketboys]

I'm soooooooo fucking done today

[zujime]

─── multiple characters x reader

characters included: bruno, joesph(not the old man ya'll, he is kinda bad tho ngl), josuke, jotaro, giorno, mista

c.w. when ur sad/upset/overthinking/idk, aged up, fluff, comfort, established relationship, no y/n usage, hcs, jjba, some italian pet names (2), a few swear words

- it's been a while since i posted jjba content, it's also been a while since i posted overall. this probably isn't much but for right now until i recover from this burnout, it's all i have. i hope you enjoy :)

at times like these, bruno notices almost immediately that something's up when he walks into your shared home and is met with an eerie silence. it's not long before he's rushing into the bedroom in search of you, only to find you curled up in bed—hidden under covers as you trembled and sniffled lightly. his touch is gentle when he rests his hand on your quivering shoulder, voice even softer as he speaks—asking about what's troubling you.

"what's wrong, mia cara" whether you tell him or not, he encourages you to release whatever tears remain as he holds you, giving you a shoulder to cry on and lots of forehead, nose, and cheek kisses as he tries to soothe you. once you've calmed down, he'll ask if there's anything you want—either a necessity or just something you want, he's getting it without a second thought. he just loves you so much and wants to do all he can for you.

now joesph...is kind of a jerk when he finds you crying at first. he'd baby talk you as he pinches, squishes your cheeks, and flicks your forehead or nose while laughing his ass off, but when he notices that you're not giving him any snappy remarks, slapping his hands away, or laughing with him, that's when he knows something's wrong and he's actually worried.

and when he starts asking you what happened, he almost sounds like a fly that's been buzzing in your ear for god knows how long, but you know he means well, especially when he's giving you the warmest and tightest hug he can—holding you against his chest as you let his heartbeat calm your uneven breathing. he's definitely babying you for the rest of the day and he might tease you a teeny tiny bit, but only to make you laugh.

josuke would probably think he did something to cause you to feel this way and if that's the case, bro's apologizing profusely (please, he's so sorry). whatever the problem might be, expect lots—and i mean lots of short sloppy kisses all over your face while he whispers tons of "I'm sorry" or "it's ok" onto your face. he might refrain from asking what the problem is both out of fear and because he doesn't want to cross boundaries or upset you even more.

but he'll spoil you rotten for the entire week cause he wants you—his everything—to feel better and he wants you to know how much he loves you. cuddles, kisses, hugs, naps together, movie night, whatever the hell you want is exactly what he's gonna give you maybe even before you ask. (he'd probably cry w you, on a serious note).

i think that jotaro would sit there and wait for you to tell him what's wrong so he'll know if it's serious or not—if it's serious he'll stay and listen to what you have to say, but if it's not like you're crying because something is out of stock or something, he's leaving the room and not even sparring you a second glance.

anyway, if you need any type of physical affection, he'd be able to tell from your body language or if you ask him for it but either way, he's not gonna not give you what you want...he's a really good listener, would literally sit there and listen to all that you have to say with no interruptions and he'd cuddle with you until you fall asleep cause he needs to know that you're actually okay, but he's not leaving your side. at all.

ok listen, not exactly like josuke, but i think giorno would be such a sweetheart. he'd ask if you'd wanna talk about it and would be content listening to whatever you say to him while he's holding you in his arms to bring your frantic mind to a slow so you can focus on what you want to say. would definitely cuddle with you in bed—you'll pass out in like less than 20 minutes so yeah.

mista would be so worried but at the same time he's asking who did it with sex pistols in hand (bro's ready to kill a bitch for you). "amore mio, who do i need to kill?" "mista, please don't kill anyone..." he's drowning you in nothing but love (kisses, cuddles, hand-holding, etc). he'd let you wear his hat or play with his hair to calm you down if that's what you want. you're getting spoiled. no, if's and's or but's, you're getting spoiled. want food? he's got it. wanna watch something? the tv's already on. wanna nap? he's already waiting in bed. he'd also let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you need and he'll give you back rubs too. :((

[lyssismagical]

evermore

Just a Solid Vent Fic 

I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho 

 *

As a compromise for Tony not being able to pay Peter’s tuition to MIT thanks to his full ride, Tony bought an apartment right beside campus for Peter to live in, to ensure no awkward adventures trying to be Spider-Man with a roommate.

Peter’s still adamant about getting a job and paying for his food, phone bill, and any other things like clothing or entertainment.

And balancing classes, patrolling, and a job, isn’t easy, of course. But it’s always been better for him to work hard than to give himself time to think. It’s not like his mental health is on hold, but it’s easier to put it aside when he’s got so much to do all the time.

It doesn’t help that he’s also on the debate team thanks to MJ, and in the robotics club thanks to Ned.

When November rolls around and it brings the final projects, Peter pushes himself to the limit to keep up with everything.

He starts dropping his sleep to only a nap whenever he can squeeze it in, working all afternoon, classes all morning, and Spider-Man all night, and he starts making up excuses for anything that isn’t a number one priority.

He stops seeing his friends, stops calling May back, stops replying to Tony’s worried texts, stops helping out with his professors or the librarian or his classmates. He stops cleaning his apartment, letting dishes pile up on the counters and laundry go unwashed.

It’s bad, and he knows that, rationally and logically, he knows.

But that doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway.

Three weeks, he tells himself.

And he keeps pushing.

MJ shows up at his apartment out of the blue when he’s studying away, and he barely manages to clear the fog in his head to stumble for the door.

“I can’t talk right now,” he says before she can even say hello. “I’ve gotta study for my physics exam.”

“No, you’ve gotta chill the fuck out.”

He shakes his head, leaving the door open as he turns his back and heads into his kitchen for a quick snack so he can get back to his work. “No, I have to study.”

“Oh my god, you live in a garbage dump,” she says, eyes going wide as she takes in the state of his apartment. “When was the last time you washed a dish? Or, gross, your hair?”

He doesn’t bother responding, rolling his eyes and downing a protein bar. “Two weeks, now, and then I’m done for a month.”

“At this rate, I don’t know if you’ll make it through the next two weeks.”

Peter can’t help but roll his eyes again, part of him hating how much he’s lashing out despite wanting help, needing help, but unable to find the strength to stop it from happening as he brushes past her again.

“I know you’re stressed, I know you’re anxious about exams and papers and labs, but, seriously, Peter?” she says, following him to where he’s working in the living room, papers and binders and textbooks strewn across every surface. “You’re a genius, okay? You’ve been getting excellent grades all year. The only reason you might not do well on these projects is because you’re working yourself to death.”

He shakes his head, feeling very suddenly like he might cry. “It’s not that easy. Just… I don’t want to deal with this right now, okay?”

MJ doesn’t take that as a good answer, though, sitting beside him on the old couch. “I know you, okay? I know you better than most people do. I’ve seen you in some of the worst states you’ve been in. I know this. You can’t pretend that this is okay or normal or that this is you doing fine. I don’t believe it for a second.”

He opens his mouth to fight back, to argue, to try to convince her otherwise, or maybe just to kick her out. But he hesitates.

After the Snap’s reversal, she was the one who devoted all her time to taking care of him. He was such a mess of PTSD and depression and emptiness, but she was there. She kept the lights on for him, she brought him food and water, held him after nightmares, talked him down from panic attacks every other day. She was there, despite everything, she was always there.

Tony was too far and he never wanted to bother May, so he regularly would drop by her fire escape where she would patch him up after patrols, and occasionally, let him sleep next to her and make sure to get him to school on time.

She’s always been there.

She’s held him together, kept him sane, helped him through it all.

It wouldn’t be fair to get pissed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, shoving a hand through his mess of greasy, tangled curls. “I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m drowning.”

And she nods because she’s always understood, always known what he means. She puts her hand over his. “You deserve a nap. C’mon.”

He goes to shake his head, looking to where his lab is only half-done, he’s only a few chapters into the textbook to get prepared for his exam, rough notes scribbled out for a paper.

“No, c’mon. You’re taking a nice nap. You deserve it,” she repeats, tugging more insistently at his wrist.

But he shakes his head this time, pulling his hand away. “If I stop, I won’t be able to start again.”

“Peter-”

“I’m serious, if I take a nap or a break or take a second to breathe, I will crumble and I won’t be able to put myself back together in time for these due dates. I won’t get back up. I just-” He stops, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his wet eyes. “I need to keep pushing for the next two weeks and then I can fall apart.”

MJ shakes her head, fingers wrapping around his thin wrist. “That’s not healthy. And it certainly wouldn’t be right for me to let you do that.”

“I’ll fail my classes if I don’t do well on these assignments and exams. I need to keep going. I know it’s bad, but if I get into bed, I will fall into a slump and I won’t get anything done.”

Surprising both him and what seems like herself, she nods, holding onto him a little tighter like he’ll disappear before her very eyes. “Fine. But I’m going to stay here with you and make sure you don’t die over the next two weeks, alright? And you have to listen when I tell you to eat or watch stupid reality TV shows with me.”

He hums out an agreement, letting himself slump into her side, eyes focusing in on his mess of homework laid out before him.

“Come on. Step one, is getting you showered and in clean clothes because you smell like you spent the night in a dumpster.”

*

MJ does exactly as she promised she would. She calls it a ‘mental health sleepover’ and they set up camp in the living room.

She calls in sick for him at work for most of the week, telling them that he caught the flu and wouldn’t be back until after his exams, and even then, he’d already booked most of Winter Break off to go home to New York.

There wasn’t much she could do, in all honesty, it wasn’t like she could force him to sleep or take a break without a fight, but she could make him healthy meals and stop him from going out patrolling, which was enough to take a big load off his shoulders.

And she occasionally can convince him to watch those dumb reality TV shows, which occasionally makes him fall asleep on the couch for at least an hour or two.

It helps, of course, but it doesn’t solve any of the problems.

As soon as he’s finished exams, he’s going to drop, he’s going to fall, he’s going to drown, let the waves take him.

And nobody will be able to help him then.

“I booked your flight home,” MJ says over dinner and while he’s finishing up his lab report. “My flight’s a few hours after yours, so I’ll be with you until you board and then the Starks will pick you up.”

“Thanks. I really owe you one,” he says, only half-listening as he starts on his paper.

She grabs him by his shoulder and makes him turn to her laptop screen. “Say yes to the dress time. Your paper can wait a bit.”

“There’s only so much I can procrastinate,” he says but he’s already closing his laptop and tucking himself into her side, and shoulders finally relaxing.

She starts the episode, on a low volume, and presses a quick kiss to his temple.

By the time they’re onto the second episode, Peter’s slurring out his insults to the dresses some of the women pick, making fun of the different styles, and blinking getting longer and longer.

“That neckline?” Peter goes, giggling into MJ’s shoulder. “Especially with those shoes?”

“You’re a bitch.”

“I know, but seriously?” he laughs again, a little window into the person he once was. “I mean the first option wasn’t bad, but the choice of a grey dress in the first place…”

MJ’s voice goes all soft and gentle when she next speaks up, “Come on, go to sleep, you can afford to take a little break.”

And he nods sleepily against her shoulder, tucking himself just a little closer, making himself small against her side. It’s simple, for now.

*

As soon as he’s done his last exam, he can feel the adrenaline wearing off, disappearing from within him, all energy draining from his very veins.

He goes straight home afterwards, ignoring everybody who tries to stop him for a chat. And as soon as he makes it to his apartment, he goes straight to bed, tugging the sheets right over his head.

He shouldn’t do this, he knows. He should call MJ, ask that she drop everything for him again because he can feel himself slipping, but he won’t. He can’t. He doesn’t even know when the last time he saw his phone was, let alone have the effort to leave his blankets and try to find it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have it in him to care.

He feels empty and exhausted and strung out. Carved hollow. Putting everything he has into the past few months, he feels like he has nothing left to give.

There’s a knock on his front door, but he doesn’t move.

A few minutes later, his phone rings, somewhere in another part of the apartment. It rings again and again, a symphony for him to pass out to.

*

Time passes strangely when he’s this deep in a depressive episode. He doesn’t know how long he’s been huddled under his blankets, hiding from the world. It could’ve been anywhere between a couple hours and a few days, he doesn’t know.

His phone continues ringing, far away and echoing through his dreams, tears sliding down his cheeks at random intervals, hands trembling where they’re tucked under his chest.

He feels like he’s drifting away, collapsing into himself, fading away into nothingness.

He feels empty, hollow, gone.

He gave everything he had into school and work over the course of four months, and he has nothing left to give anymore. He’s nothing more than an empty well.

And he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to pull himself together, pack, get a flight home, and pretend to be one hundred percent for Morgan.

He’d rather just die here, in this cave he’s built, ghost-like and fading away already, than have to face another soul.

*

When he hears his front door unlocking, he knows he should be worried. Nobody has a spare copy of his key except for Ned, who already went home to New York a few weeks back.

He knows it should be at least a little concerning that somebody is breaking into his apartment, but he can’t find it in him to care. He doesn’t have the energy to move or hide or try to protect himself.

He just curls up a little tighter and hopes that this won’t be his last day.

“Peter?”

He lifts his head, just enough to see over his cave of his blankets.

And standing in his bedroom doorway is Tony.

“Hi,” he breathes, curling up a little tighter, knowing he’s safe.

Tony slips into his room and sits at the end of his bed, one hand on Peter’s ankle. “MJ called when you wouldn’t answer your phone or let her in. She knew something was up.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I saw something like this coming after you finished your senior year and spent two weeks sick and depressed. I thought you’d be home in time before you started feeling so run down, but I guess I was wrong.”

Peter doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that, so instead he lets his head fall into the pillows again.

“I’m not going to make you do anything yet, I think you could use a bit more time here. Though, Morgan thought two days sleeping was plenty, I think another one might do you well. But tomorrow, we’re going to get you fed and showered and your apartment clean, and then this weekend, we’ll get a flight home. Sound good?”

He nods, though he’s pretty sure he would agree to pretty much anything so long as the decisions are taken out of his hands.

“Come here,” Tony murmurs, sliding into the space beside Peter, arms open. Peter finally feels at home when he crawls into the awaiting hug. “MJ mentioned Say Yes to the Dress bingeing, you feel up for making fun of more dress choices?”

Peter laughs half-heartedly against Tony’s chest, tucking himself into him like a child would, and nods, breathing in the soothing scent of motor oil and expensive cologne.

He knows he’ll fall apart again, he knows that it’s not going to be a permanent solution, but the time being, he has Tony’s arms around him, a reality TV show quietly keeping them company, and the relief of having time to feel miserable before he has to pick himself up, it’s enough for now. It’ll be enough.

He’ll be okay with people like Tony and MJ at his side.

He’ll be okay.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @fancyxparker  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[softluci]

omg, hey, how r u, hi, so nice to see u; welcome to my 3AM (now 6AM bc miss hellsite deleted everything) ramblings (which i will try to make as close to the original as possible); this one’s gonna be a Doozy

now that ap testing is over and i have more time to care about literally everything else, i realize that i . i am So Bad at taking care of myself. like, so bad. and i actually realized this months ago but i didn't have this account months ago and i didn't think of this months ago so—

((i was debating whether or not to limit this to gen z but i know it isn't just us who do this; or maybe that’s wishful thinking and it Is just us, but idk, man,, i feel like millennials be doing this too))

sometimes, a lot of the time i just . don't eat . and i don't have a bad or difficult relationship to food or an eating disorder or anything like that, i just Don't Do It because i either legitimately forgot or i didn't feel hungry even if i hadn't eaten for a significant period of time (6-18hrs, we'll say, because i do lose track). like,, when quarantine started, i was in my room, door Locked, for 15 to 19 hours a day + i wouldn't leave unless i had to use the bathroom or shower. i only started eating and leaving my room more because my mom had to ask me to. oh, and this should be obvious, but i don't sit and eat dinner with my family either.

additionally, and this is Much More Frequent, i don't sleep. i know i don't sleep because i slept for nine hours today and woke up dazed and confused. when we had school, i would either sleep for 1-6 hours or just not at all. and then i'd go to school and not pack anything to eat :p. i actually think the longest i've gone without sleep is a full day. and i don’t have insomnia or anything like that, i just be Staying Up

so, with those things in mind, i've been wondering, like,, like how the boys would react to an m/c like that, you know?

like, okay, first of all,, there's No Way mammon is gonna let mc sit alone in their room all day. his emotional support human?? alone without him??? unacceptable. it just isn't happening. he would Literally break mc's door down if they tried to keep him out, unless they, for some reason, really, really, really needed to be alone, and even then it is a Tossup. and then not sleeping or eating? hello, what do you think this is? he would accommodate them for a little while by bringing them food and making sure they slept but after a while he would literally drag them out of their room because there is no way. there is No Way he’s letting them turn into levi. not on his watch 

an mc like this would give luci an ulcer. a literal ulcer. why are you a human and playing with the limits of your body?? who are you, do you think you’re made of metal? do you realize you have classes to attend and that you’re surrounded by demons literally All The Time? you cannot be caught lacking (i.e. feeling faint or fatigued because you haven’t eaten in seventeen hours or slept in a day). he would bring food to your room so he could make sure you ate, but when it came to sleeping? get ready to literally be dragged/carried out of your room and into his because he has work to do and he needs to keep an eye on you because Clearly you cannot be trusted to take care of yourself. he would probably go as far as to stop doing work and go to bed so you have nothing to hold against him. can’t sleep at a regular time because of your nonexistent sleep schedule? that’s okay because, beloved, He Is Putting You To Sleep. how he does so is up to you; and if you try to play like you’re Fine?? 

“mc, it’s seven pm, when was the last time you ate?” “five.” “am or pm?” “...” “well, when was the last time you slept?” “i haven’t.” “MC.” 

you haven’t slept in just over a day? baby, levi’s record is three. he would be absolutely terrible for an m/c like this; he would enable them So Hard. maybe he would bring them food (and that’s Snacks, not actual food), and Maybe he would tell them to go to sleep once or twice, but Other Than That? he can’t take care of himself for Shit either, sorry you had to hear it from me, leviastans <3

asmo,, you are worrying this man Sick. you haven’t eaten in fifteen hours? are you on a diet? no? you Forgot To Eat? how many hours of sleep have you gotten? one? you Think? oh, Maybe it was two? ah, yes, mc, because that is So Much Better. seriously, though, if you won’t eat, fine, but if there’s one thing you’re doing, it’s sleeping. you can’t sleep at a decent time because you have no concept of a sleeping schedule? sweetie. beloved. he is putting you to sleep, be it through relaxing self care or something else, darling, you are knocking out. and when you wake up, he’ll have a full course meal ready and he will literally feed it to you himself.

what’s that? you haven’t eaten since Yesterday and it’s three in the afternoon? oh,, you sweet summer child, beel is heartbroken. keep insisting that you aren’t hungry while you can barely stand and his eyes will fill with tears. you don’t wanna leave your room? fine, but that is the only thing keeping him from throwing you over his shoulder and going to the kitchen. he would literally bring you as much food as he could carry and only eat a little bit on the way back to your room. can’t sleep? not a problem, wait there while he gets belphie to charm your pillow. do Not worry, teddy bear beel always has your back MUAH

speaking of belphie,, tell that man you haven’t slept in a day and he’s stopping what he’s doing, dragging you to the nearest cushioned surface, and laying down with you; you’ll be out in No Time. and once you’re up?? he’s dragging you to the kitchen and you’re eating any and everything he puts in front of you, and he’s not leaving you alone until you’re functioning like a human and not a gremlin, or so help him, you’ll die a second time. 

you’re like, op,, y did u put satan last?? i couldn’t think of anything for him until now, i Swear i love him, okay, Anyway, you haven’t eaten in almost a day? do all humans do that? no?? why can you Barely Stand??? do you need to be carried to the kitchen? he is so confused as to why you just Haven’t Eaten when that is a basic function that humans need to complete or else they literally die; now wait in your room while he brings you something to eat. you can’t sleep?? do Not worry, that man will curl up with you and read to you until you’re Knocked Out, which won’t take long because he has a calming presence and a soothing voice, sweetheart, u r in good hands

ok it’s 7AM and i’m contemplating doing the undateables,, should i do the undateables? i’m gonna do the undateables. 

oh my god,, if luke finds out that you haven’t eaten in, eighteen hours and you haven’t slept in like twenty,, the way you’re gonna have to put in Work to convince him that you did those things of your own volition and the demons you live with aren’t starving or overworking you and No they aren’t forcing you to lie about anything. after you’ve done that, he is seeing to it that you eat something right away; it does not matter where you are, you are a human and you’re feeling Faint around literal demons, are you Dumb? are you Dumb of Ass?? come with him immediately before you hurt yourself or get hurt, he is feeding you and then you’re sleeping in his room and he’s Not taking no for an answer; don’t even think about telling him no, he’ll cry at you. 

you cannot tell me simeon is not the doting/fussing type, okay, and he is appalled. Appalled. what did you just say. the reason why you don’t look so good is because you’ve been up since Yesterday and you haven’t eaten since then either? why? what do you mean you forgot to eat; what kind of human Forgets To Eat? oh, you didn’t forget? you just didn’t feel like getting up? you’re gonna give him an ulcer. if he doesn’t do anything else, he is getting you something to eat, you literally just activated every older sibling/parental instinct he has from luke being an angel. he will literally take you to the closest place with food, sit you down, and buy you whatever you want, and if you say you don’t want anything, he’ll buy you one of everything and give the leftovers to beel, do Not test him. and when you’re done eating, you’re taking a nap. where? anywhere. no one will disturb you so long as he’s there, you’ll sleep perfectly fine <33

dia is half horrified and half intrigued. you haven’t slept in how long? are humans supposed to do that?? NO??? like,, part of him wants to see how long you can last without sleep or food just to see the limits of the average human and part of him wants to feed you and make sure you sleep immediately. he would have to fight every urge to do the former, but once he did, you are eating everything he finds and you are sleeping for however long his Humans 101 manual says you should sleep for. 

i am so thoroughly convinced that solomon literally would not care at all you have No Idea- 

like,,, i just feel like he’d ask you if you were alright because you looked a little off and you’d tell him you hadn’t slept or eaten in a while and he’d first look at you like you were literally out of your mind and then depending on where you were, Maybe keep you company (read: make sure nothing happens to you) while you take a nap, or Maybe buy you food, or take you to the house or purgatory hall (whichever’s closer) because he wouldn’t leave you alone,, surrounded by demons, ever; let alone in your current state. ok wow maybe he does care what a sweetie

barbatos would literally. he would keep his ^_^ cool facade, but on the inside he would be Screaming. full throttle internal screaming that has been going on for centuries just got several notches louder because you can’t take care of yourself, i hope ure happy. you haven’t slept since yesterday? one notch. you didn’t eat breakfast or lunch? another notch. you feel faint? oH WOW REALLY??? I FUCKING WONDER WHY another notch. come with him. please come with him before he blows a fuse for the first time in 400 years because you think you’re an exception to the rules of being a human. he’s feeding you and putting you to sleep whether you think you’re fine or not; don’t argue with him, he already takes care of his immortal boss who is the equivalent of an excited child on most days or a troublesome teenager on others and he Does Not Lose Arguments. 

ok it’s almost 11am goodnight now <3

[lilhemmo]

alone together - DAY THREE

Summary: A daily installment series of one shots on being in quarantine with Goku (special appearances made by master roshi and others!) Come back each night starting 3/18 for a new fic for the next 14 days!

AO3 LINK Rated: T+ (for now, ya nasties!) Word Count: 3.2k bc idk how to write anything short and sweet. Warnings: language, a lil inapproppro roshi, spicy thoughts, a lil fighting A/N: thanks to nikkisramblings for the idea and the inspo!! and also for always being down to talk about the world’s favorite himbo! let’s make this quarantine crisis bearable :) also. i am channeling my fave human @thegodbucky​ to try and write the best himbo there ever was to exist.my goku does NOT compare to hers but! 

vegeta: day 1 | day 2 | day 3 goku: day 1 | day 2 | day 3

PREVIOUSLY...

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re teaching you how to fight,” his voice is quieter, softer now. It almost feels a little different as his thumb brushes over your shoulder. Goku rests his chin in the crown of your hair, taking a shallow breath, “I can always use instant transmission to give ya’ a hand, but I want you to know you can take care of yourself.”

You pat him on the stomach, allowing yourself a small feel of the toned muscles there, “I’m glad I have you in my life, Goku.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Goku squeezes your shoulder and you let yourself soak in the sun and the waves, cherishing a moment of closeness like this because you’re never quite sure when it might be ripped away.

You knew that the training Goku had been putting you through would hurt, eventually. However, you didn’t expect to wake up one morning practically unable to move. You had just enough energy to force yourself through a shower and brushing your teeth before you collapsed back on the bed, still wrapped in your towel with your quilt pulled up at your waist. You’re completely out of breath, muscles tightening with each gasping part of your lips.

“Hey, you okay?”

If your body could tense in embarrassment, you would, but you can’t.

You turn your cheek against the pillow, barely able to see much more than the outline of the side of his body with your blurry vision, straining your eyes as best you can. You accept defeat and close your eyes, chewing on the inside corner of your mouth before speaking, “Goku, not all of us have Saiyan muscles. Us mere mortals can’t go from sitting on the couch to fighting a super person without a little bit of pain and fatigue.”

“Pain just means you’re doing it right!” Goku giggles, scratching the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you allow yourself a half-second of fear at the thought of him trying to make you spar again today.

It takes you a moment, but you bunch your hands under your chest and try to push yourself upward. Your face twists in pain as you try to look at him, and the Saiyan rushes forward, knees on the floor as his palm frames your cheek. He tilts his head, “Wow, you’re really hurtin’, huh?”

“Yes,” you grunt, face in the pillow now because you can’t bear to admit your weakness. You can’t even pay attention to the fact that you’re only in a towel, the heat of his arm against you burning like a flame. The only thought that pulses in your mind is one of hurt. Your muscles cry out as you shift around under the blanket and towel to try and be at least slightly more comfortable.

Goku pinches your cheek, a bright smile on his face, “I can give you a lil’ squeeze, if ya want! Krillin and I learned how to massage out the cramps from one another when we were training with Master Roshi when we first started learning martial arts.”

The sudden reality of the thin material keeping your bare everything from view finally settles in and a blush fights its way onto your cheeks and the tops of your ears. You licks your lips and shake your head, “N-No, Goku, it’s fi-oof.”

His stocky body is settled atop your backside, knees digging into the mattress on either side of you. Goku is heavy, oh Kami is he heavy. You struggle to keep in the sharp cries of pain at his muscled form sitting on you, weighing your body down. He means well, all he’s trying to do is help you, but wow is he currently putting you in pain. Goku is laughing but your mind is far from humored, all you can pay attention to is the way the towel shift on your body, the small knot at your side practically begging to come undone.

“This is kinda in the way,” he mumbles, thumb brushing under the lip of the fabric separating his body from yours. The scraping of his fingernail against your tender skin forces goosebumps to bloom down your arms and legs, but you convince yourself it’s just the air conditioning. Your toes curl and you try to keep yourself from arching up into him so you don’t seem like a needy animal. The last thing you need is to be closed in this tiny house with Goku knowing how you feel.

You huff, attempting to regulate your voice, “Goku, I’m not about to take off-”

“What? I’m just sayin’, if you took it off, it’d be so much easier! My hands are gonna get all stuck!”

He’s whining and it shouldn’t make your stomach flip over, but you can’t control the way your body flushes at the thought of him undressing you, or how he would feel pressed against you, bare and warm. Your skin starts to sweat at the imaginary way his hips would move and how his hands might touch you.

The base of his palms roll into your shoulders and you have to clamp your mouth shut so you don’t let out a groan at the sensation. You keep your eyes closed as his thumbs travel over your spine, gently rotating in circles as he works his way downward from the top of your neck.

“Wow,” you almost moan out the word, eyes rolling around in your head as his hands work out the kinks in your muscles. You swallow the thick lump growing in your throat and it feels like you can finally breath without being in immense pain, “You really are good at this.”

“Told ya!” Goku says. He giggles and traces over your shoulder blades before digging his palms into the muscles there.

You’re practically lulled to sleep with the motions of his handles, the push and pull of his calloused fingers and palms soothing as he works your muscles. As you sit on the cusp of consciousness, you’re just barely able to withhold the gentle noises that sit on your tongue, begging to be let out.

He must be putting you under some sort of spell because your fingers move under your body just enough to reach the knot holding the towel in place. You unhook it and tug the fabric from your torso, revealing your bare shoulders and back, the towel pooling at the juxtaposition of your body and Goku’s.

“There you go, loosen up,” he chuckles, moving himself further down your body so he can knead away at the tightened muscles of your lower back.

When his hands come in contact with a specifically knotted muscle, you can’t help it when the moan escapes your lips.

Goku freezes, palms still pressed flat against your waist. His thighs tense and that sends a jolt up your spine and right back down to your belly. You grit your teeth and dig your forehead back into your pillow out of embarrassment alone.

“D-Did I hurt you?” he asks innocently. You can even see him tilting his head in your mind, the action playing like a movie behind your closed lids.

You grunt, trying to come up with a response. All you’re able to do is bark a feeble, “No.”

Goku tests the waters with his thumbs brushing over your rib cage, eyes trying to find some part of your face to gauge your level of pain. He sighs, “W-Well, then why’d you make that sound?”

And why did I want to make you make it again?

He leaves the last part unsaid, for fear of what it means and what you might do. Goku licks his lips and leans forward, his body weight shifting you on the bed. A hand presses to the mattress on either side of your head as he balances himself.

“It felt good,” you say quietly. You clear your throat and turn so your cheek is against the pillow and you can look at him over your shoulder. He’s much closer than you expected, his nose trailing down your cheek as you shift.

You try your hardest not to think of how you two might look in a mirror at this exact moment. His pelvis is pressed against the curve of your ass, palms dug into the mattress beside either of your temples. Your face is blushing bright pink, muscles tense as you curve upward into him. The thought alone of what he could do to you like this settles a weight between your thighs, a needy heaviness clawing at your thighs.

Goku huffs, his chest expanding, “Hmm, that’s weird.”

A wash of pink colors your cheeks and you take a short breath, thankful that he’s only considering it weird and not sensual. Then again, this is Goku. You’re sure he could spend a whole day reading and watching Master Roshi’s collections of media and still not understand why the girls were so scantily clad. You lick your lips, ready to defend yourself and your actions, but Goku returns to massaging your back and you’re lost in the feel of his hands once again.

It’s as if he’s trying to get you to make obscene noises with every movement of his hands. Goku is digging into you deeper, fingers finding the perfect rhythm and sinew as he touches you. His hands are roaming now, finding every inch of your skin to try and pull those noises from your throat again. You allow yourself just a moment to wonder if he felt pleasure at the mewling that parted your lips only seconds ago.

Unfortunately, all he ends up doing is lulling you back into a dreamlike state, your eyes glazed over as you fight slumber. You yawn, getting ready to tell him you need to take a nap, but your eyes are alert as soon as Goku’s body stiffens atop your own. His nails dig into your skin and your body flushes with goosebumps.

“Ooh,” you hear the grotesque sound of saliva being sucked back into someone’s mouth and you try to hide yourself behind Goku’s broad body.

“Goku, you wanna share?” The old man holds his hands up in the air, reaching towards you with grabby hands.

A frightened squeak barely has time to echo from your mouth before a resounding slap gives way to Roshi being smacked across the room. He slams into the bookshelf that houses all of his x-rated movies and dirty magazines, a couple of them falling over his head as he tries to make out which way is up and which is down.

Roshi groans, rubbing the growing lump on his bald head, “Hey, Goku, what was that for?!”

Tears are begging to fall from your eyelids but you don’t let them; you can’t let Goku knows how things like this affect you - Master Roshi isn’t going anywhere after all. And Goku has never been one to admonish the old-timer’s perverted behavior before.

“I-I don’t know, Master Roshi,” Goku admits, looking down at his hand like it might give him the answer. His eyes drift to you, watching as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to hide away from everyone even with your body as bare as it can be.

As soon as he sees the red of your cheeks and the way your face is scrunched in humiliation, Goku’s brows furrow and he glares at Master Roshi, “But I think you need to get out of here.”

The old man is scurrying away before Goku can slap him through the wall and send him skipping across the ocean. You release the breath you’d been holding, your body sinking under the pressure. Goku brushes his thumb across your jaw, tugging you to look at him. He notices the wince you make as you try to adjust your body and he finds himself trying to think of ways to make you more comfortable.

“Hey,” he clambers off of you, knelt on the ground with a hand still against your neck, “You wan’a watch a movie? We can take a break from training today.”

All you can think of is how taking a break from training is the exact opposite of everything that Goku has ever said to you. Ever.

“That sounds good,” you say.

When you don’t move, Goku tilts his head. He reminds you of a confused animal, what with his wide eyes and general blank expression. His mouth bobs open and closed a few times before he finally speaks.

“Well, why aren’t ya’ gettin’ up?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and bite your lip, “I-It hurts.”

Goku laughs, running his palm down over your bare back. He stands to his full height, “Well, c’mon, let’s go get you dressed!”

Somehow he manages to wrap you up in the towel when he grabs you around the shoulders and the knees, holding you like a child as he carries you into the closet to get a change of clothes.

“G-Goku,” you stammer when he puts you down. You clutch the towel to cover yourself, thankful that it’s big enough to keep him from seeing anything you don’t want him to, although he doesn’t seem very worried or distracted. He’s rifling through a couple of drawers, pulling out clothes that he thinks will fit you, mumbling to himself under his breath.

“Here, I think these will work for you.” Goku holds out a paid of baggy training pants and an undershirt. They’ll both fit you loosely, but at least you’ll be covered. You really need to do laundry. The last thing you need is to marvel at yourself wearing Goku’s clothes.

You go to reach for the shirt and pants, but your shoulder muscles lock up and you wince, crying out as you crumble to your knees. Goku catches you before the other parts of your body can react, gently keeping you upright by the elbow.

“Let me help you,” he says immediately. Goku is already unrolling the shirt before you can argue. You don’t take away the towel and he doesn’t argue, pulling the head of the shirt around your neck, settling it on your shoulders.

When he turns around to pick the pants up off the ground, you quickly slot your arms through the tee and you’re thankful it covers all of your sensitive parts. Even though Goku doesn’t really understand the implications behind what he’s doing and what he’s seeing, you do, and that’s enough.

Slowly, he helps you into the pants, tying them around your waist for you when he’s done. Goku is picking you up again to walk you into the kitchen and you can’t force an argumentative word out of your mouth. You relish in the moments spent close to his body, your head rested on his chest as you attempt to ignore your aching muscles. You also love the way that he can pull you around like you’re weightless, light as a feather. It makes you feel small in all the best ways.

He hands you the remote, silently asking you to choose the show. You land on something martial-arts related, with a side of romance.

You’re nodding off against his shoulder when he pokes you in the stomach, “H-Hey, what are they doing? Fighting with their mouths? It seems kind of gross.”

“F-Fighting- what?” You rub your eyes and sit up despite your aching muscles, “Goku, what are you talking about?”

He uses his thumb and index finger to turn your jaw to the television, where the two main characters are currently making out against the wall of the dojo. You chuckle, “Oh, they’re kissing.”

“K-Kissing?! What the hell is that?”

You can’t help the peels of laughter that expand your chest. You continue to giggle despite the resistance from your body. Goku pouts in response, crossing his arms over his chest, “Hey, why’re you laughin’ at me?”

“Kissing is what people do when they like one another,” you answer him, mostly out of breath. You pat him on the thigh, resituating yourself against his torso, “You lived with Master Roshi for how long and you’ve never been introduced to kissing?”

Goku shakes his head, bottom lip still jutted out like a child. He sighs, “Roshi is weird. I didn’t really pay attention to him unless we were sparring.”

“Such a you thing to do, Go’,” you reach up to ruffle his hair, “but when you like a girl, or a guy, I guess, whatever you’re into, you kiss them! It releases endorphins and makes you feel good.”

“I like you,” Goku says plainly, his head cocked to the side as he rests his hands on your hips, “Why don’t we kiss?”

If you weren’t in so much pain, you’d choke. Your eyes bug out of your head just enough for him to notice, but you try to temper yourself before you respond.

“There is a difference between friend-like and lover-like, Goku. You have to know the difference before you decide to kiss someone.” Your voice is an octave higher, but he doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in his own confusion. His eyes travel to the upper corner of the room, fingers cupping his chin as he thinks. You can practically see the gears turning.

“O-Oh,” he finally sighs, relaxing back into the couch.

Goku’s hands rest against your best, fingertips gently finding all those muscles he worked earlier, “I guess that makes sense.”

Your body relaxes into his hold when you realize the conversation is finished. You curl your arms around his waist as he settles further into the cushions, eyes completely captivated by the kissing couple on the screen as if he were memorizing their movements.

The drifting of his fingers over your body only serves to put you to sleep. Goku looks down to ask you another question, but giggles when he sees your pursed lips drooling just a little onto his gi. He brushes his thumb over your brow, the rest of his hand threading into your hairline.

Goku is focused on you, the way your body moves, falling further into him, and he wonders if this is what people mean when their spouses are built for them. He’s never given much thought to anything other than how to grow stronger, how to beat the next best guy...but, here, in this moment, you’re the only thing on his mind.

Spending an immense amount of time with you over the past couple of days has left him waiting, expecting, to have you in his life daily. He wakes up to train and the first thought he has is to wake you up to do morning push ups or jog around the shoreline.

The thing that breaks him out of his hypnosis is the very thing that lulled him under - you.

Except this time, you’re saying his name.

At first, he thinks you might be in pain; maybe your muscles are tightening again. So he starts to rub your body with the heels of his palms, working at alleviating some of the tension so you can sleep better.

However, as soon as he begins to massage your muscles, your whining intensifies. Goku removes his hands like he’s burnt you, eyes wide as he tries to understand what’s going on. He tilts his head to better hear you, tiny whimpers parting your lips as you shift around in his lap.

He leans up and the action jolts you awake, a bright red tint on your cheeks. Goku giggles, rubbing the back of his neck, “Mornin’!”

You lick your lips and try to tense your legs to keep his knee from sliding between your thighs, concealing your desire. You force a smile, “It’s afternoon, silly.”

“Yeah, I know,” he trails off, looking away from you. It takes him a moment, but he looks you in the eyes and you feel your soul sucked from your body as soon as he utters the words: “So, why were you moanin’ my name in your sleep?”

--

a/n: MWUAHAHAHAH!

tag list: @thegodbucky​ @vegetaslilboots​ @lokipea​ @nubiadethemyscira​ @dbzteam​ @hi-jess-is-here​ @brieffs​ @thotful-writing​ @vegetandbulmaism​ @dragonballwritingandnonsense​ @gokus-wife-and-lover​ @judasbeast​ @vegeebs​ @bonkers-4-hatter​ @cxddlyash​ @scenariosofcapsulecorp​ @cahira-the-golden-ejderhalar​

[shawnpetermuffins]

Allergies

Request by @prettylittlethingggg: how about the reader’s allergies are really bad and shawn tries to help (maybe on tour idk your choice)!!!

A/n: thank you for the Request! I loved the idea! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.8k

***

Touring with Shawn is a dream. I get to spend every moment with the love of my life and I get to watch him do what he loves most in the world.

However, I was not prepared for the effects this constant travel would have on me. Going from one city to the next, one country right after the other, it's exhausting. Which is probably why I've suddenly become so allergic to nearly everything outside.

Okay… so I know it doesn't work that way, obviously. I've had allergies my whole life. My main triggers being flowers and dirt.  So that phrase, "stop and smell the roses" never really applied to me. But it seems like all Shawn ever wants to do is go outside. Which I guess I get, he's constantly on planes or in hotel rooms, or in arenas and he never truly gets to see the beauty of the places he's in.

And I'm usually willing to go out and see the world with him. But that just isn't the case this time. We'd been exploring nonstop only yesterday, and now my eyes are red and puffy. My nose is stuffed up and running, my throat itches and nothing will help with it. Not to mention my throbbing headache now that the sun is filtering brightly through the thin, sheer curtains of our hotel room.

Shawn's arm is wrapped around my chest, making it even harder for me to breathe seeing as I'm having to inhale deeper since I'm breathing through my mouth. I manage to push him off as gently as I can and make my way to the bathroom for a hot shower, in hopes that the steam with open up my nose a little bit.

It helps a little. I'm still stuffy and my throat and head are still fighting for top pain spot - my head is winning, but not by much.

When I step back into the room, my warm, red skin wrapped in a towel, Shawn looks up from his phone. "Hey, baby. Brian wants to go look at this cool record shop he saw yesterday when we were coming back to the hotel. You wanna get dressed?"

I sigh and dig into my bag, searching for clean underwear and a bra.

My heartbeat is so loud in my ears that I barely register the soft patter of his feet on the carpet and nearly jump out of my skin when his hands find my bare waist. He immediately removes himself from me and I feel bad.

"Sorry," he whispers, now only placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Y/n, look at me."

I do and his face softens with concern, "Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?"

I sniffle, shaking my head. "Just don't feel good." I slip into my underwear and drop the towel to clasp my bra, but Shawn reaches the straps before I do and does it for me.

"What's wrong? And you hurting? Do I need to get you something? You can't take Tylenol right? You're allergic to it?"

"Shawn," I say softly, barely trusting my voice which is raspier than I expected it to be considering it was just an itchy throat. But I forget every time just how bad my allergies get. "Don't worry about me."

He glares at me, "Don't tell me that. How can I not? My girl doesn't feel good."

"I'll live. Go out with Brian. I'm gonna sit this one out."

"What? No." He pulls a shirt out of his suitcase and hands it to me. "Put this on. I'm gonna run to the drugstore and get you some medicine, okay? I'll be back as quickly as possible."

"Shawn, I'm fine. Go hang out. Please."

"I'm not just gonna leave you while you feel like shit. I'd lose good boyfriend points."

"I'm not keeping score," I mumble, sliding into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"I am. And I'd be a horrible boyfriend if I left you alone while you didn't feel good."

"You would n-"

He put his phone up to his ear, holding one finger up, basically telling me to be quiet and I kinda want to punch him for it. Maybe I should be keeping score.

"Brian, hey. So, I can't go today… no, I know, but y/n doesn't feel good. I need to keep her company… No. Yeah. But that not the only reason I called. I have to get her some medicine from the drugstore. You think you could come to our room and just keep an eye on her until I come back?" He's silent for a second and I sigh dramatically, falling back onto the bed. "Oh yeah, they probably would have something downstairs, eh? I'll check there first. Thanks, bud. I'll see you in a minute… okay, bye."

"I don't need a babysitter," I groan, resulting in a cough.

"I know you don't but I would just feel better if you had someone here."

"It's allergies, Shawn. I'm not dying."

"If it's allergies, what bothering you? Eyes, clearly. Nose? You sound kinda stuffy. Do your ears hurt?"

"They just don't work," I roll onto my side, curling into myself and looking up at him while I talk. "One minute you sound really loud and the next you're muffled."

"Okay? What else? Throat?"

I nod, "and my head."

He sighs, "I'm sorry, baby." He leans down to press a kiss to my temple; I melt into his touch, but he pulls away too soon for my liking. "I'll get anything I can. I'll get water and gatorade. Hell, I'll get everything. Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

He nods, finding a pair of socks and a hoodie thrown carelessly in his bag. "I'm gonna get you something anyway. You need to eat."

I roll my eyes, "then why ask me if you're gonna do it anyway?"

He sighs and comes back to sit next to me. "I'm just going to pretend that you're not giving me attitude because you're sick. Can't punish you when you're sick," he smirks, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

"Hmmm… promise to do it when I'm feeling better?" I ask without opening my eyes.

He chuckles in response, "we'll see, honey." There's a knock on the door and he's off the bed in a second. "Hey, buddy. Thanks for doing this."

I don't hear what Brian says, he's speaking much softer than Shawn and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful.

"She's laying on the bed."

"Hey, y/n. How you feeling?" He asks, looking a bit amused with my current state. I know I look like absolute trash.

"Fine enough to stay in the room without a babysitter while Shawn goes downstairs."

"Well, while I would agree," he sits next to me and pats my head. "Shawn doesn't think so."

"It's literally just allergies. I just need to take a pill and I'll be fine. He's fussing about nothing."

"I'm still here, you know?" I hear his foot hit the floor after he shoves his shoe on.

"I'm aware," I grumble, scooting closer to Brian so I can rest my head in his lap. He chuckles and runs his hands through my hair, causing my eyes to grow heavy.

"I'll be right back, baby."

I nod the best I can through my lazy state, eyes closed, and listen for the door to close.

---

I don't know how long he's gone or how I ended up back on my side of the bed instead of on Brian's lap, but I wake up sometime around noon. Shawn's nowhere to be seen, but I hear him strumming a guitar from the small living room. My headache, thankfully, has dulled, and I waddle over to where he's sitting on the couch.

He smiles when he sees me, and I kind of wish I had been a little quieter so I could listen to him play a little longer. "Hey, baby! Have a nice nap?"

I nod, my eye fluttering shut for a second.

"I'm glad." He sets his guitar down and reaches for the bag on the coffee table. He's pulling out all different kinds of medicine, four different gatorade flavors, lots of snacks and I just stare in awe at this man.

"Okay," he says without looking up. "I wasn't sure what was bothering you most, so I kinda just got you one of every allergy thing down there. So we have runny nose, sore throat, itchy/irritated eyes. There's one for congestion, I think that's what allergies are sometimes, right?" He moves the boxes around while talks. "I got you some water. They ran out of the red gatorade, and I know that's your favorite, so I just got you a few other ones in case you still wanted that. I'll get you a red one after dinner. And I know you said you weren't really hungry, so if you're not in the mood for a meal," he clears his throat and I smile down at him, resting my head against the door frame. "I got you some snacks. There's gold fish, some granola bars, a few bags of Chex mix. They had fruit roll ups, and I didn't know when the last time was that you had one, so I got a couple of those."

He finally looks up at me beneath those long lashes and I could melt right here. "What's wrong? You're staring weird."

I shake my head with a small smile on my face, "I just… I'm in love with you."

His cheeks instantly redden. "Well I'm in love with you, too."

I make my way over to him and he spreads his legs a little, giving me space to slide between them. His hands rub soothing circles on my sides and I hum at the soft contact. "Thank you for bringing me this stuff, and for taking care of me. You really didn't-" I stop myself just in time to sneeze into my elbow. I sniffle and continue, "you didn't have to."

Shawn's laugh rumbles against my stomach, where his head had found it's resting spot and my fingers thread leisurely through his thick curls. "I did have to. Can't have you feeling like this the rest of the week."

"You're perfect," I mumble into his hair and his grip on my waist tightens.

"Come on," he pats the back of my bare thighs and looks up at my albeit still red eyes, "let's get you some medicine and lots of fluids."

"Since when did you become a doctor?" I laugh lightly.

"Since I watched all of Grey's."

"Should I call you doctor Mendes?" I mean it as a joke, but he takes it another way.

A smirk plays at his lips and he squeezes my thigh. "We'll save that for another time," he winks and I immediately cover my face.

"You're incorrigible."

"You love me," he presses a kiss to my clothed stomach and I nod despite my better judgement.

"I do. Sometimes, I think a little too much."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @bbellbagel @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado

Hope you enjoyed! Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

[wannawritefast]

So Very Much

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I decided to try my hand at a Roger fic so let me know what y’all think! I know that this is well past the holidays but I do what I want so... Once again, a HUUUUGE thank you to my editor :) @andtheswordwentsnickersnack. And since I know @hollandroos is a huge slut for Ben Hardy as Roger (like I am)... you’re welcome.

Request by anon: hey! can you do a roger taylor fluff fic where it’s new year’s day, and they want to do nothing but cuddle and make out? thank you!

Pairing: BoRhap!Roger x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, mild language, implied smut (kinda...?), kissing?, just a whole bunch of domestic fluff idk man

“What do you mean you’re ‘not going to make it’?” Mary asked seriously. The cat in your lap jumped away as you sat up abruptly. “‘Not going to make it’? But it’s Christmas!”

You and Mary were huddled by the phone in her apartment for your routine post-show phone call. The boys had been touring for the past two months. And they had said, no, promised, that they would be back in time for Christmas.

Mary let out a heavy sigh and you got up to pour yourself more tea. You couldn’t trust yourself to do much else when you were this frustrated. One of the other cats trotted after you.

“Yeah, I understand,” She muttered. Mary’s fingers scratched at her forehead and she ran a hand down her face. “You’ll at least make it for New Year’s, right?”

You put some of the cookies the two of you had baked earlier on a plate and carried your mug of hot tea back to your spot on the couch. You held out the plate of cookies to her and she plucked up a chocolate chip cookie with a nod of ‘thanks.’ The two of you simultaneously bit into the pastries and slumped against the couch cushions. Another cat sat attentively watching you eat the cookie.

“Freddie,” Mary groaned. “It’s the holidays. You deserve a break as much as they do.”

You broke off a crumb of the cookie without chocolate and gave it to the cat sitting next to you. The two others immediately hopped up after it, now begging you for some as well when they had previously been indifferent to your existence.

“I know it’s important to you, love,” Mary switched the phone from one ear to the other. “I could care less about the money. But you know what I do care about?... Yes, you!”

Mary listened in silence for about a minute, mumbled out a ‘love you, too,’ and handed over the phone to you. You scooted yourself over, cats moving in tow as Mary moved on the other end. She gnawed at her thumb nail.

You weren’t entirely sure what Roger was going to tell you that you didn’t already know. He had missed your last birthday. He was going to miss Christmas. And he was going to miss New Year's too.

“Hello,” you began. You picked at the polish on your finger, just wanting to hear his voice.

“Hello, beautiful,” Roger’s voice answered. “I miss you.”

Normally you would have smiled or joked around in response. That was how your relationship worked. But you were too upset to do that right now.

“I miss you too.” You answered. “How was your show?”

“Good.” He chirped. “Wanna know the bra count?”

“Sure,” you laughed but it felt empty. Roger and you made a habit of keeping track of how many bras get thrown onstage during the show.

“6! It's a new record!” Roger joked cheerfully.

You hummed in response trying to sound equally as excited. But Roger knew better. He always did.

“I can hear the frown on your face. What’s the matter?”

“Just that we’re not going to spend the holidays together like you said we would.” You curled your arms and legs into your torso. The 1 of the 3 cats had since given up on the cookie. One of the remaining stood on its hind legs and pressed its front paws on your bicep.

Your boyfriend let out a sigh over the other side of the line. “You heard?”

“Well, I’m with Mary. Yeah, I heard.” You explained.

You heard rustling. “I would have liked to tell you myself.”

“A little late for that, huh?” You chuckled humorlessly. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

You were proud of Roger, honestly. You really were. This was his dream and he was succeeding and you were so happy for him. You hated when he was gone this long though. And it’s not that you didn’t trust him because, by God, you did. You just missed him so much.

“I really don’t know what to say or what to tell you, Y/n,” Roger confessed. You looked over to Mary who had let a few silent tears fall as she stared at the currently off telly. You made eye contact with her as one of your own tears rolled down your cheek.

“That you’ll come home somehow.” Your voice broke and you coughed to cover it. “Please.”

“Y/n...”

“Yeah,” you said, and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. “I know, Roger.”

“I’m really sorry.”

No, you aren’t, you thought. But you held your tongue and swallowed back the words, not wanting to cause a fight. You knew he was sorry but you were bitter.

“Yeah, I know.” You answered dejectedly.

“I’ll-”

“Make it up to me, yeah,” you looked over to Mary again as you rubbed at your eye with you jumper sleeve. She crawled over to you and you let her lean against you. You were grateful for the contact.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” he breathed. He always had to go. You nodded in response well aware that he couldn’t see it.

You sniffled. “I love you, Rog. So very much.”

“I love you too, Y/n. So very much.” He matched the cadence of your voice. A chuckle bubbled it’s way through your lungs. “Bye, beautiful.”

“Bye,” you whispered. The line went dead and you set the phone back on the stand.

You and Mary sat together, emotionally drained, slouched on the couch. The both of you suddenly were without the loves of your lives for the holidays.

“So,” you breathed shakily. You let a few more tears fall. “You got any plans for Christmas?” Mary laughed dryly. “Or New Year’s?” She shot back. “Seriously I’ve got no plans! Not anymore anyways…” You trailed off.

“We can do Christmas at yours and New Year’s here,” she suggested with a shrug.

You nodded absentmindedly. That would be fun, you supposed. “Sounds good by me.”

“Want to sleep over tonight?” Mary asked as she sat up and faced you.

“Sure,” you replied. “As long as I buy breakfast tomorrow morning, my treat.”

“You have yourself a deal.”

The holidays went as planned with Mary. You spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with her at your flat, watching Christmas movies and exchanging presents. Mary even brought over her presents from Freddie and her family and opened them at your flat. Having someone else there was so much better than the solitude you had become used to.

It was all well and good until you realized that Roger’s presents were going to remain under the tree for quite a bit. He called you in the afternoon to wish you a Happy Christmas and to apologize again. After Mary left, you spent the rest of the day drinking wine and crying. You couldn’t even bring yourself to take down any of the decorations.

Nearly a week passed and Mary got sick with the flu, leaving you to celebrate New Year’s eve alone. You had tried to help her, but she insisted that she could manage and didn’t want to risk getting you sick. (She deadbolted her front door and wouldn’t let you in when you dropped by with soup.)

Because you had nothing else to do, nowhere to go, and zero desire to be out on a night like this, you did chores and cooked for a good majority of the day. After cleaning the bedroom, guest bedroom, and bathroom, you moved onto slow-roasting vegetables for your dinner. You were not looking forward to ringing in the New Year on your own.

You laid on your bed, bored out of your mind. What did people do when they had this much time to kill? Staring at the ceiling you let your legs hang off of the edge and your thoughts wander.

You hated sleeping in this damn bed. It was too big and too soft and too cold except when Roger was there in it too. But now you were starting to get used to sleeping in it alone, and that was the problem. You didn’t want to get used to it.

When Roger was here, the bed was small and you could touch him. When Roger was here, the bed didn’t need to be soft because you slept right up against him, almost on top of him. When Roger was here, the bed was too hot and you would kick the covers onto the floor and still be wrapped in his arms because him making you overheat while you tried to sleep was better than having no one there at all.

You cried yourself into a dreamless nap and stirred awake to the sound of your front door opening. You rubbed your puffy eyes.

Someone else was in your flat.

Sitting bolt upright, you came to your senses and instinctively reached to grab the flashlight, kept on your nightstand at Roger’s insistence.

“Y/n?” A voice called.

You knew that voice. But that couldn’t be right. You let the flashlight fall back to the nightstand with a clatter.

“Y/n! I’m home.” You clambered and scrambled off of the bed in your half-awake daze. Roger.

You sprinted down the hallway, not caring about how many walls you stumbled into. You had to be imagining this.

You rounded the corner and beheld your boyfriend shutting the front door behind him and setting down his bags next to the coat rack. You were so overwhelmed with the situation that you couldn’t help the expression of love that left your mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Roger blinked at you in confusion. “‘Welcome home’ would suffice,” he teased warmly.

The reality of him being home finally hit you and you ran full force at your boyfriend. You wrapped him your arms and legs around him and he held you tightly, like he didn’t intend on letting go for a while. For real.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whispered. You loosened your arms but didn’t let go of him nor did he let go of you. You remained suspended in his embrace. Roger’s pretty blue eyes looked back into yours and you weren’t dreaming. “But really… what are you doing here?”

Instead of answering you, Roger attacked your lips with his and walked the two of you to the couch where you sat straddling his lap. For a blissful minute, that was all you did. You kissed him, attempting to make up for all the time you had lost when he was away. And you had a LOT of catching up to do.

Eventually you pulled away much to the dismay of Roger. Your fingertips brushed his fluffy blonde hair out of his face, still seated in his lap. You pecked a kiss to Roger’s nose.

“So…” you prompted for the third time. Roger leaned forward to kiss you again but you put your pointer finger up to halt his lips. “I’m not complaining. And we can bloody well finish this later but no more until I get an explanation.”

“I can’t surprise my loving girlfriend?” He asked with that cheeky grin that he wore oh-so well. You raised your eyebrows at him and he ran his fingers idly up and down the outsides of your legs. “Freddie worked his magic and got us free time. Except for a few weekend gigs, I’m all yours until the end of January.”

You gasped in excitement. “Are you serious?!”

Roger laughed in response. “Of course, darling.”

You squealed and kissed him again, over the moon that Roger was going to be home for a while. Especially since he wouldn’t be missing New Year’s Eve like he said he would. You looked at the gifts under the tree and then back at Roger.

“You’re opening your Christmas presents next year,” you teased through his affections.

He rolled his eyes and continued kissing you. “You can just say tomorrow. That’s when you’re opening yours.”

“‘Next year’ is so much more fun though!” You exclaimed. Roger pulled back to take a breather.

“You are so beautiful.” He mused quietly. You smiled at him. “I love you so much.”

“As much as you love that car?” You couldn't help yourself. You were in too good of a mood.

Roger tickled your sides in retaliation. “Even more. Want me to prove it?” Roger challenged leaning you forward over the edge of the couch. You tightened your grip around his shoulders.

“You don’t have it in you,” you squinted your eyes back at him in faux-competition.

“We’ll see about that.”

In one swift movement, he maneuvered you off his lap and over his shoulder. Roger laughed at your noise of surprise and carried you to your bedroom.

Oh, you couldn't wait to catch up.

After quite a bit of… um, quality time together, the two of you finished prepping the dinner you had started before Roger came home. Thank goodness you had planned to make enough to have leftovers so there was a serving for him too.

You spent your evening with a certain blonde drummer never more than 4 feet away from you. When you began to plate the dinner, Roger wrapped his arms around your waist, rested his head on your shoulder, and swayed gently to an idle tune. And when you waited for the countdown, your boyfriend and you sat leaning forward on the couch excitedly waiting for midnight.

His arm was wrapped around your waist and his hand rested on your hip. 5, 4, 3, 2…

“Happy New Year!” You and Roger cheered at the same time. You turned to face him with your arms thrown up to the ceiling as you danced in place.

Roger grabbed you by the waist and pulled you toward him gently. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and smiled through it.

“Happy New Year, Roger,” you muttered through the kiss. Roger was not relenting. Even as you leaned back to pull away, he dipped you low to the ground. You fell to the ground with a thud and laughed when Roger cursed and fell on top of you.

“Got a little overzealous there, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Roger breathed and twirled a piece of your hair around his finger. “And I’m going to do it again.”

Your giggles echoed through the living room.

You woke up when the sunlight tickled your lashes, peeking through the thin blinds you had haphazardly closed the night before. Your hand instinctively reached to rub your face and your nails scraped at the dry inner corners of your eyes.

It took you a moment to register that Roger had laid his head on the middle of your chest. His light hair was spread around his head and onto your arm chaotically like a wreath. You watched his side slowly rise and fall as he continued to slumber peacefully. His long lashes almost brushed his cheeks and Roger’s lips were slightly pursed and parted from sleeping on his side.

He looked beautiful. If you moved, you would wake him. One of his arms was tucked against his chest under his chin and the other was reached across your torso with his hand snugly settled in the underside of your waist, securely locking you in place. Ever so slowly you craned your neck forward, brushed a featherlight kiss onto the top of his head and leaned back to where you had been laying. Your fingertips rubbed the soft ends of his blonde hair between your fingers as if you weren’t quite sure he was really here.

Within a few seconds, Roger took in a deep breath and stirred awake. He stretched out the arm that was wrapped around your waist.

“Good morning,” you greeted groggily. Roger’s mouth immediately turned to a smile and he turned his head to look at you.

“Good morning to you too,” he responded, his voice raspy and thick with sleep. He unrolled himself from his position and laid on his side to face you. You mirrored him.

“Are you ready to open your presents?” You asked gently.

“There’s only one I want to open right now,” he smoothly hummed. Roger moved to kiss you and you turned your head away to dodge it. He dropped his jaw, offended at your movement.

“We both have morning breath, Rog,” you explained, resting your hand on his cheek. “Let’s get a little cleaned up and then we can continue this, yeah?”

Eventually the two of you made it to the living room and you divvied up the Christmas presents between you and him between long swigs of freshly brewed coffee. Roger’s pile was fairly heft  due to the fact that he hadn’t been able to open them on the day he was supposed to. Having Roger home was gift enough for you though. When the space underneath the tree was empty, save for the tree skirt, he began to open them.

Roger tore open his presents. Among a jumper from his mother, a handful of socks from his sister, and a new set of drumsticks from his dad, Roger proceeded then to open the gifts from you.

The first one he opened was a box of matchbox cars with heart eyes individually hand-drawn on the windshields courtesy of you. The second one he opened was a nice pair of boots that he had been eyeing the last time the two of you went out before he left for his latest round of performances. The third and final gift you got him was a picture book with heartfelt captions that you made of the last few years you had been together. That one may have made him tear up a little bit.

Roger stood from his spot on the floor and encased you in a tight hug from your spot on the couch. “Y/n,” he whispered, “I love you so very much. Thank you for everything.” He landed a sweet kiss on your forehead then your nose, your cheek and finally your lips.

“You’re so very welcome.” You answered. Roger had been more than affectionate lately not that you were complaining.

“I have something for you too. Don’t think I forgot,” he explained. You knew he wouldn’t ever forget you; he made sure that you knew that. Roger picked the red envelope that he had placed the previous evening up off of the coffee table and handed you it. Your name was scrawled messily on the front in his handwriting. “I’m sorry I could only get you one thing.”

You worked on gently ripping open the flap of the envelope. “Roger, it doesn’t matter what you get me. I just need you.” You put your hand on his cheek and your boyfriend kissed the inside of your wrist.

“That was ridiculously corny,” he muttered, “but you’re cute so I’ll let it pass.”

You rolled your eyes as you finally unstuck the envelope flap and opened the card. It read:

‘Y/n Dearest,

I’m trying to get better at this sappy stuff. The band is convinced that the most romantic thing I’ve ever written up to this point is, well… it rhymes with “I’m in Love with my Star.” But I’m going to try anyways to top it.’

You chuckled and bumped his shoulder with yours. “I’m seriously concerned with your infatuation with automobiles.”

“Oh, just keep reading,” Roger pushed.

‘I love you. So very much. And I hate being away from you for so long when I was made to be at your side. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for missing your birthday and Christmas. For all the times you’ve been there for me, I should have been and should still be there for you. And for that I am sorry.’

“Aw, you don’t need to be sorry,” you corrected softly. “I’m proud of you. And I’m happy that you’re seeing the benefits of your hard work.”

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. “But keep on reading.”

‘As for your gift, consider this a voucher for a puppy or kitten of your choosing. If you’re going to need something to keep you company, it might as well be a friend with fluffy hair other than yours truly.

Yours truly ; )

Roger xx’

You looked up from the card in shock. You were getting a pet. Oh my God… You were getting a pet!

“I’m getting a puppy?!” You yelled excitedly. Roger laughed amusedly at your mirth.

“Or a kitten… your choice,” he answered. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you.

“Roger, this is the best gift ever,” you pulled him close to you and began to kiss him. That’s all the two of you seemed to do since he had gotten back. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Roger responded.

You cocked your head. “For what?”

“For being the one that I love so very much.”

[thotantics]

EXO’s reaction to you PMSing and being sad? (Basically how they would cheer you up I guess??? Idk I’m just not feeling too fantastic today so I could use something cute :/ I hope you’re doing well 💖💖💖)

this is SO sweet ty doll I hope u feel better ASAP 💕💖

Suho

SO helpful and sweet. Do you want food? Snacks? Chocolate? A back rub? A cuddle? Privacy? Whatever it is Junmyeon will provide it to you. If you don’t tell him what you want/need he’ll bring a whole slew of things to offer you in the hopes that he can make things a little easier for you. Tries to feed your sadness away and if that doesn’t help, he’ll sit you down and listen to your troubles.

“I wasn’t sure what sort of feminine products you use, so I got six different kinds..”

Xiumin

Minseok hates to see you uncomfortable or upset. He’ll do anything he can think of to ease your discomfort and keep you smiling during this time. He’s very watchful and mindful, and if he notices you’re running low on pain meds or pads he’ll get them without you needing to ask him to. Very intuitive and thoughtful. So when you start feeling sad he’ll notice right away and come give you all of his attention.

“Are you ok, jagi? Do you want me to get the heating pad for your tummy?”

Lay

Yixing has the very best intentions always but I think he might not be as intuitive as Minseok. He tries his best and that’s what counts tho. He will listen to all your complaints and never once brush you off if you’re feeling emotional. He has next to no knowledge about feminine products or pain meds and leaves that all up to you, but if you want to rant or cry he’s there 100% for you and incredibly supportive.

“I’m sorry you feel bad, baby. Let’s go snuggle on the couch together until you feel better.”

Baekhyun

He’s definitely going to be the one who cracks jokes at your expense, but he’ll stop real fast if you’re not in the mood to be teased. His go-to when you’re having a rough time is to be silly to try and make you smile or to just hold you and pepper kisses into your hair at the top of your head.

“I’m sorry I was picking on you, I promise I’ll be nice. Come here love, let me hold you.”

Chen

He has your cycle on his phone and he’s prepared a day ahead of time, if you’re regular. If you aren’t, he’ll always approach you with concern when you’re more than a couple of days late. Like Minseok, Jongdae hates to see you uncomfortable during this time and he’ll do what he can think of to make it a little easier. Lots of pouting when you’re sad, which makes you smile because he’s genuinely the cutest ever.

“Stay in bed this morning, I’ll bring you breakfast in a few minutes, ok?”

Chanyeol

He won’t do anything too special unless you ask him to. He’ll complain about how embarrassing it is as he texts you from the store buying your feminine products, and he’ll bring home your favorite snacks and chocolates with them. When you’re sad, however, Chanyeol is incredibly empathetic and he’s sad, too. He’ll cry with you if somethings really bothering you, otherwise he’ll listen to you with big sad eyes and his big soft heart is always open for you to pour your concerns out to him.

“I heard sex helps with cramps, if you wanna..?”

Kyungsoo

He’s extra tender with you on these days. Always checking up on you and asking if there’s anything he can get/do for you. Like Baekhyun, he’ll make a few immature jokes but it’s good natured, hoping to make you smile at his silliness. Overall he’s very caring and just wants to help you feel better.

“Jagiya, is it shark week? Again? Next time let’s just have a baby instead of going through all this. *you smack his chest and he laughs*”

Kai

Jongin just wants to curl up in bed and hold you close. He’ll rub your belly soothingly and offer whatever he can think of that may help. If you’re feeling emotional Jongin is sympathetic and understanding, and he wants to stay in bed all day, snuggled up close, to improve your mood.

“So...I heard from Chanyeol that sex is supposed to help ease your cramps.”

Sehun

Clueless. He’s a bit icked out by it and definitely will complain and whine if you ask him to go buy you pads. He’d rather sit at home with you on the couch binging on your favorite snacks. A big cuddler, Sehun’s specialty when it’s that time of the month for you is to lay with you draped over his front while he rubs his big hands over your lower back to alleviate back pain. When you’re sad he feels a little hopeless, not knowing what else to do but to listen to you and validate your feelings and offer you a lot of hugs.

“Baby let me hold you. You can nap right here against me until you feel better.”

[lulueteli]

feel free to delete my comment if you wanna just rb the photo cause this is just me rambling about my own shit.

i said this to a friend earlier and i just wanted to speak freely? the last few episodes have been extremely difficult for me to watch as im such an emotional person (hi I’m also a cancer too) and the last few weeks have been so hard on me because of Skam but also because of my accident, physical health and school deadlines (I almost always fail my third quarter it fucking sucks). my point for my rambling is that I knew it was happening and I completely crashed Thursday night?? like completely?? I feel asleep at 3 pm, and then didn’t wake up until 6 am. Then Friday night I slept from around 5:30 pm to about 4:45 am, and have been awake since then (as I’m writing this, it’s 6:30pm on Saturday) and I’m so mentally and physically exhausted and I just wanna sleep all the time. Everything I do I’m just losing interest in and I just take depression naps all the time because it’s so exhausting to constantly deal with this shit and the only reason I get out of bed now on the weekdays is because I’m absolutely terrified of not graduating. if I was done and didn’t have anything to do, I swear I would be sleeping all the time. And like I’m so exhausted all the time but other than Thursday and Friday I usually can’t sleep?? Like I’ll run off of 3-5 hours per night because I can’t fall asleep, won’t stay asleep, or I’ll wake up so many times. Idk. I know I’m mentally I crashed really hard on Friday especially after that episode and seeing eliott like that. I just haven’t felt that unsteady/unstable in a while now and like I’m about a year clean but Friday hella fucking scared me idk I’m just like...not good. its like everything is setting me off all of the time and i consistently want to just cry. all when i got home on friday i solidly was on my phone on tumblr that my phone went dead and i was curled up right next to my charger and all i could do was stare because i had no fucking energy to move even the smallest bit. it was like everything just came crashing down around me and im just so completely fucked right now.

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

Let’s Play....!

Summary: Roman is tiny, and he wants Virgil to be his playmate. Virgil thinks he knows what’s to come, but Tiny!Roman has a different idea.

Word Count: 1,974

Characters/Pairings: Virgil and Tiny!Roman (platonic Prinxiety); little bit of Patton and very brief Logan

Genre: Fluff and hurt/comfort (kids are a wild ride, lemme tell you what)

Warnings: Yelling, crying, obnoxious breaking of the 4th wall, small mention of hitting (playful, really) (Let me know if I missed any!) 

Tags: (IDK who like Tiny!Sides stuff, so if you don’t, just ignore this lol)  @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch  @ssides @pantasticpanini @anxious-but-whatever

Author’s Note: Shoutout to @tinysidestrashcaptain for writing and reblogging amazing Tiny!Sides stuff that inspired me to write this. Also shoutout to @onthevirge for encouraging me to write this after I rambled about loving Roman way too much. Also, I don’t really like to write in “toddler speak” (just a personal preference), so when you read Roman’s lines, just read them in a high-pitched little kid voice. ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy!

“Viiiiirrrrrgiiiiiilllll,” a high-pitched voice called throughout the MindScape, causing the Anxious Side’s heart rate to pick up. Well, he should’ve figured it’d only be a matter of time. It seemed that Roman had woken up from his nap, and he was ready to play.

Obviously, Roman wasn’t exactly his normal self at this point. The Prince had come back from one of his DreamScape escapades-well, run back screaming and crying-as a 3-year-old because apparently the Dragon Witch couldn’t actually kill the one who created her. Logically speaking, she’d die, too. So, she’d gifted them a younger Roman, and so far Virgil wasn’t a fan. Normal Princey was loud and boisterous enough; a toddler Roman was no different, from what he could tell, just not able to project as loudly but at a higher tone that grated at his nerves.

Normally, Logan or Patton was in charge of Tiny Roman, but Thomas needed them today. Well, he’d really needed all of them, but seeing as Roman was a little out of commission, someone had to stay in the MindScape with the kid. Morality and Logic were the most reasonably qualified for the task at hand, so, after a little bribery and compromise, the others convinced Virgil to be Roman’s caretaker for the day. 

“Viiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrgiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllll!!!!”

Running his hands through his hair, Virgil dragged himself out of bed and vanished from his room, appearing in Roman’s realm. However, upon initial and further inspection, he realized the Creative Side’s room was empty. Feeling his heart rate pick up and his stomach drop, he quickly left the room and materialized into the MindScape’s Common Room.

In their version of Thomas’s sitting room, Virgil sighed in relief when found 3-year-old Roman sitting on the floor, surrounded by art supplies. Normal-sized Roman could conjure up just about anything he wanted to make his daydreams come true, but regressed Roman wasn’t as knowledgeable in that department. So, the other three Sides had banded together to get the tyke some art supplies to satisfy his creative urges. 

Virgil took stock of the room, and what a surprise, Roman wanted to play kingdom-centric make-believe. A bag of plastic jewels was ripped open, it’s contents splayed all over the carpet; shiny silver and gold construction paper was haphazardly stacked on the carpet right next to the little one. A few bed sheets (likely snagged from Logan’s meticulously organized linen closet) were half folded on the floor next to the coffee table, and Roman’s sword (the one he used when he was normal-sized) was carefully laid on top of the table next to a finished golden paper crown, impressively decorated with the plastic precious stones. 

The tot-sized Roman, adorned in the little cape Patton had made him, was hunched over on the carpet, concentrating hard on something that Virgil couldn’t see. Not realizing the other Side was behind him, Roman took a deep breath and yelled at the top of his little lungs: “VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRR-” 

“WHAT, Roman?” Virgil snapped. “I heard you, and what are you doing up from your nap? You’re supposed to wait until I come get you!” 

 The Tiny Prince jumped and turned in an instant; his lower lip trembled and his eyes were dangerously wet as he chewed on his lower lip and refused to make eye contact with the older Side. Sighing, the Anxious Side lowered to his knees and looked the other in the eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry I was mean to you, Ro. I’m just....sleepy.” And definitely haven’t been verging on an anxiety attack for the last hour, and that was before I thought I’d lost you, little escape artist. He thought grudgingly to himself.

“It’s okaaay...” Roman rubbed his eyes; he put his hands behind his back and swayed back and forth, obviously working up the courage to ask Virgil for something he knew the older Side wouldn’t like. “Hey, Viiiirge...”

“Yeah, Roman?” Virgil leaned against the front of the couch, bracing himself for whatever ridiculousness the little one would request. 

“Will you play with meee?”

“Well, since I left my room, I might as well.” He forced up a smile for good measure when Roman didn’t look impressed, just a bit charmed by the Prince’s antics (though he’d never admit it, of course). “Yeah, sure, what’d you have in mind?”

“Princes!” Roman eagerly turned back to whatever he was working on, missing the flash of annoyance on the other’s face.

Virgil sighed. “What will I be? A fiery, scary dragon?” Virgil mimicked blowing out fire.

“No!”

“A big, mean, hairy troll?” Virgil put his arms up, miming a menacing beast.

“NO! I just told you!” A now red-cheeked Roman pouted, turning back to Virgil with his secret project behind his back. “A prince! I’m Prince Roman, and you’re Prince Virgil!”

Virgil had nothing to say to that right away. It was the last request he would have expected of Roman, quite frankly, and he wasn’t sure if he trusted it. 

“R-Really?” Virgil eyed the other carefully. “Will I be an evil prince? Will we get into a big fight, and-”

“No!” Roman yelled, his eyes spilling over with tears this time. “You’re Prince Virgil! You’re big and strong and scary to the bad guys and you’ll take care of me and the castle and all the people like Thomas!!!” Roman collapsed onto the floor, melting into soft, hiccuping sobs; Virgil felt his heart clench as the little prince curled into a ball on the carpet.  

Crap crap crap crap crap you gotta fix this NOW, you idiot!

“Aw, Roman, I’m sorry.” Virgil mumbled, tentatively scooting himself closer to the Tiny Side. Roman side-eyed Virgil, equally distrustful of the other now. “Come on, Ro, please forgive me?” The Anxious Side made his voice as sickly sweet as possible, trying to ignore the fact that his tantrum obviously meant Roman had skipped most, if not all, of his midday nap. Getting onto him now would only make things worse, so Virgil opened his arms, remembering that Patton often bribed Tiny Roman with cuddles to get him to behave. 

Still whimpering, Roman uncurled himself and pushed up into a sitting position, staring at Virgil for a full five seconds before crawling into his lap; the emotional Side stuck his thumb in his mouth and laid against the other’s chest. 

“I guess that means you forgive me, huh?” Virgil murmured, chuckling a bit when Roman nodded his head; he rubbed his little charge’s back until his whimpers died down completely. “You okay now, buddy?” 

“Y-yeah.” Little Roman whispered.

“You still wanna play princes?” Virgil asked hesitantly. “I promise I’ll play by your rules this time, no questions asked. I’ll take care of you and the castle and all of our people...” He trailed off into a whisper, speaking more to himself than Roman. “Just like I do for Thomas.” 

“Yeah.” Roman nodded, but made no move to get out of Virgil’s lap. 

“Are you sure?” Virgil looked down, noting the droop of Roman’s eyes and head. Crap. If he slept now, he’d be up all night. “Roman, if you don’t get up, I’m gonna-” Virgil cut himself off and attacked Roman’s sides with his fingers, tickling the toddler until he shrieked with laughter.  

Through his own laughter, Virgil prompted, “So, I guess we gotta make me a crown, huh? Looks like you already got yours done; it looks really good.”

At this, Roman untangled himself and crawled over to where he’d been working just a few minutes earlier. Walking back on his knees, Roman came up in front of Virgil and grinned just before pulling a silver paper crown with black and purple jewels from behind his back. “This one’s your crown. I made you it. I put these ones on it,” he pointed at the gems.  

“Yeah.” Virgil smiled, a genuine smile this time. “It looks really good, Ro; I like it!”

“Let me put it!” Roman requested, the normal bounce returning to his voice; he gestured for Virgil to bend forward. The other complied, and the Tiny Prince giggled as he carefully placed his creation on his playmate’s head. “There! It’s peeeerfect!” The little one gave Virgil a big thumbs up, scampering over to the sheets piled on the floor, and Virgil noticed one of his black bedsheets folded beneath one of Logan’s dark blue ones.

“Here’s your cape!” Roman threw the sheet toward Virgil, giggling manically when the covering unfolded in the air and got caught on Virgil’s head. the Anxious Side couldn’t help but laugh at the little one’s glee. He pulled the blanket off his head and swung it around his back, tying a solid knot around his throat as Roman placed his own crown on his head. The small Side bent under the coffee table and brought out a little cardboard dagger, and he pointed to his own sword on the coffee table.

“That’s yours, Virge.” There was a twinge of sadness in the other’s words. “I’m too small to use it right now.” 

“It’s okay, Ro.” Virgil reassured him as he rose and crossed to receive the Prince’s most precious item. “I’ll take good care of it; I promise.”   

"Ok.” Roman still looked a bit sad, so Virgil hoisted him up into his arms, carefully holding Roman and the sword. 

“We can hold it together, and we’ll defeat whatever monsters try to take over our kingdom together!”

“Yay!!” Roman squealed, hugging Virgil’s neck. “You’re the best prince, EVER, Virgil!” 

“So are you, Roman. Now, let’s go!” Virgil cried, transporting them into Roman’s room so the Tiny Side could show him to his DreamScape.

-- 

After hours of fighting baby dragons and half-sized trolls, Virgil carried a yawning Roman back to the Commons and laid him on the couch. As he set to work cleaning up their crafting mess from before, Roman cried out, “No, I wanna help!” and inched his way off the sofa.The Little Prince and the Anxious Side worked well together, Roman picking up the little pieces and Virgil handling the big stuff. 

Just as they finished cleaning up, Patton and Logan strolled into the Commons, and Roman’s face lit up brighter than Virgil had seen all day.

“Daddy Pat Pat! Mama Lolo!” Roman screeched gleefully, running to the paternal and logical Sides. Logan shot Virgil a dirty look at the nickname as Patton hauled the squirming toddler into his arms and planted a loving kiss on the little one’s cheek; Virgil wiggled his eyebrows in return. 

“What’d you get up to today, kiddo? Did you play with Virgil?” Patton cooed, setting the toddler so he faced him in his arms.

“Yeah! We played Princes! And Virgil was the big good prince and I was the little good prince and we stopped the dragons and trolls from getting in our castle! Virgil’s the best big brother eeeever!” Roman declared with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Sounds like a great time, Little Guy.” Patton grinned at the Anxious Side, mouthing “Thank You” as Roman laid his head against Patton’s shoulder. Rubbing his charge’s back, the father figure whispered, “And now it’s bed time.” He turned to start Roman’s nighttime routine, pulling up when the little one tugged on his sleeve. 

“Can Virgil read me my story?” He mumbled into Patton’s neck, his eyes already half closed.

“I can do that, bud.” Virgil replied, coming up beside Patton and patting Roman’s back. Tiny Roman sighed contentedly, and the bigger Sides transported them into Roman’s room.

It wouldn’t take long at all for the tuckered out little Side to nod off, but Virgil and Patton would stay in the Creative Side’s room long after he’d fallen asleep, whispering back and forth about the adventures of the day.

And Virgil had to swat Patton on multiple occasions to keep him from squealing and waking up Roman.

More Tiny!Sides: 3 Tiny!Sides and a Virgil

All of my Sanders Sides fanfics

[dvddggs]

To the Four of Us (EPILOGUE)

Words: 2,569

Author’s note: It took me weeks (months?) to get this right. I got so attached to my TTFOU characters that I had to make sure they had the right sendoff. I ended up loving this story. I loved writing it, I loved reading your comments (don’t think for a second that I didn’t read EVERY SINGLE ONE of them. I did. And they ALL made me smile), and I love that you guys loved it so much. Seriously I can’t thank you all enough for letting me share this with you and for supporting me. I don’t wanna get long and sappy so I’ll leave it here. Also, I’m sorry for the wait, but I really hope you enjoy it now that it’s here!

Tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @georgewashingsin @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @but-if-you-had-to-choose @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @mynameisalexanderhammyham @panda-powers@lafeyettegunsandships @schokoobananaa @aphboi @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @aham-threw-his-shot-away @hesitantcat @nonstopspook@hamrevolution @alexander-did-you-know @spitaverse-burr@angelizaandpeggy @isis278 @idk-destiel @engulfedinstars@hamiltrashuniverse @ahrupe @just-me-an-asshole @readfizz@skeletonmelodies @gum-and-chips @iminwaytoomanyfandoms@hadleyelizabethuley @fictionalboyfriends @ridiculousn3ssfangirl@pleuxvoir @liallow @kanadianwithashippingproblem @bucket-of-kittens @welcometohamilton @forth-schuyler-sister @fanwaffles@ariadne1004 @inspacewmorty @marshmallow-satan @anbu1997@sinmineral @esmeraldablazingsky @fictonalboyfriends @i-am-forever–bored @imdiggingdaveed @skittle-geek

Now, without further adieu, the TTFOU epilogue!!

There's comfort in familiarity. That was why when they turned onto the familiar street with the familiar lampposts and the familiar trees John literally squealed with delight despite the snow which fell softly onto the windshield.

Alexander raised an eyebrow at his husband. Normally in the presence of snow, John would be at least a little grumpy.

"Whaddaya want, I'm excited! Can I live?"

Chuckling, Alexander turned his eyes back to the road and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was excited too, though he had the ability to control it a bit better so as not to wake the sleeping figure in the backseat.

They were less than three minutes from his father, who he hadn't seen in months. Despite their best efforts to get back to his home state of Virginia, their lives were so hectic that they simply couldn't find the time. Not to mention the trek from South Carolina with a new baby had been rough at best.

"Y'know," Alexander said, catching John's eye in the rearview mirror. "You don't have to sit in the backseat with him every time we get in the car."

"He's more fun than you," John teased from beside the car seat. "All you do when you drive is stare at the road in silence."

"Only because I don't want him to wake up! You know how hard it is to get that boy to sleep!?"

John shrugged and looked down to his right. He had a valid point.

Alexander swung the new SUV gently into the driveway of the old house and parked behind the old car that his father refused to replace. Turning the car off, he turned in his seat to smile at his little family.

"Philip," John said softly, brushing the fluffs of hair on his son's tiny head. "Time to wake up, lil buddy. We're here."

"To meet your grandpa!" Alex chimed in.

He pocketed the key and opened the back door for John, who was unbuckling the car seat.

"I hate this thing," he murmured, giving up in favour of picking up Philip alone. "Why do they make them so difficult? We can come back for the carrier later. I can't do this anymore."

Laughing, Alexander offered a hand to John and hiked the diaper bag onto his shoulder.

"C'mon," he said. "My dad is probably quivering with excitement right now. After we fell asleep last night, I missed four calls from hi—"

He was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and his father jumping off the porch to greet them.

"ALEX!" George pulled his son into a tight hug, pulling the bag off his shoulder and plopping it on the ground in the process. "How was the drive? How are y'all? And how is my grandbaby!?"

"Tired." John pulled Philip away from his chest and smiled down at him. He knew this would probably be the last time he got to hold him for the entire summer because of his father-in-law.

Philip's sleepy gaze focused on John and he blinked as his little mouth opened in a yawn.

"Let's go inside," Alex prompted, picking up the bag again. "He's probably freezing."

George led the way into the house and sat down in the living room, arms outstretched. "Okay," he said. "Let me hold my boy!"

"I thought I was your boy," Alexander said as John laughed, gently handing Philip to George.

"Not anymore, kid," George deadpanned without taking his eyes off of Philip. He stared at him in stunned amazement, watching as Philip's wide, wondering eyes scanned his new surroundings.

Alexander was forced to play host and find drinks and snacks for everyone because George was too entranced with Philip to do anything else. They chatted easily about their new life with Philip for awhile until John curled up beside Alex in their usual spot in the couch and fell asleep.

"Is he okay?" George chuckled. "He's usually up later than both of us."

"We haven't gotten much sleep with the little man around." Alex held out a finger for Philip to grasp and wiggled it around in his hand. "Did you know babies suck at sleeping?"

George smiled. "No, I didn't actually. But I know you sucked at sleeping until you were nine. Why don't you guys go take a nap?"

"Are you sure? You'll be okay with Philip? I can set up his swing. If the worst comes to worst, just put him in there and he'll fall right asleep. There's an extra bottle in—"

"Alex. I'm fine! Philip and I have got this. Go. To. Sleep."

Alexander gently woke up John, who jumped up muttering incoherently about if Philip was alright and that, wow, it was already morning. Alex was willing to bet that John didn't even open his eyes as he led him upstairs to his old bed.

"Where's...Philip?" John muttered, his sentence interrupted with a yawn.

"Go to sleep, John."

Alexander pulled the blankets down and crawled after John into his bed where the two of them promptly fell asleep within seconds.

I look beside me and catch John's eye, crinkled and bright with happiness. We are alone in a room, waiting for the agent to return to her office. Today is the day. We are going home with our baby.

John is twisting the silver ring on his left hand anxiously. He is nervous that something is going to go wrong again.

I understand.

"It's going to be fine," I say, reassuring myself as much as John. She will be back at any moment. Any moment...

ALEXANDER HAMILTON

JOHN LAURENS-HAMILTON

Two signatures. A satisfied nod. Smiles. Laughter. Crying. We made it. He is ours...

The drive home. John insists on sitting in the back seat of the car with Philip, our son.

Our son.

John is still crying tears of joy. So am I. We talk to Philip on the drive, telling him about our home.

His home.

We are almost there. One more street, one more turn, one more minute...

"Where's Philip?"

John's question makes no sense. He's right beside him.

"Lex, where is Philip?"

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion and glance in the rearview mirror. The car seat is empty.

Suddenly, I'm frantic. Where did he go? Why is he gone?

"Alex, WHERE IS PHILIP?"

Alexander's eyes flung open as he wiped beads of sweat from his temple. John was hovering over him looking worried.

"Where's Philip?" John repeated, lips pressed softly to Alexander’s ear.

John’s arms were wrapped around his husband as he whispered through the darkness. Though Alexander’s heart was still pounding from his dream, he registered how at peace he was.

"Jesus fuck, John," Alexander breathed. "You damn near gave me a heart attack.

"Alexander!"

Alex rose an eyebrow questioningly.

"I told you to stop swearing with Philip around! He's slowly gonna catch on until the only words that come out of his mouth are—" John leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a whisper— "fuck, shit, and damn. Is that what you want? Huh?”

Alexander rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but suppress a grin. "Jesus, Laurens, he’s four weeks old and an entire floor away. I think we're safe."

"Still..." John said dramatically. "Anyways, what time is it? I feel like we've been sleeping for—"

"Holy shit, three hours!" Alexander said, showing John his watch. "Three. Hours. Herc and Laf are probably here already."

“They’re gonna kill us." John bit back a yawn and pulled Alexander up. "Let's go."

Alex had been right—as soon as they left his room they could hear familiar, muffled voices from below them.

John's face lit up at the sound of his best friend. He pulled Alexander after him quickly enough that they almost fell down the stairs.

Hercules and Lafayette had just gotten back from spending a year with Laf's family in France so they hadn't all been together for ages, aside from the occasional video chat. John was at the point where he mentioned how much he missed Laf almost every day. They were planning on spending the rest of the summer at George's house, just like they all used to during university. There were a couple of small differences these days, however; namely Philip and Marie, Herc and Laf's five year old daughter.

The muffled speech stopped when they heard footsteps on the stairs, and when Alex and John got into the living room, all hell seemed to break loose. Lafayette's voice emerged victorious when he yelled, "JOHN!" in a bloodcurdling squeal and John sprinted across the room, falling into his arms a teary-eyed mess.

"Never leave me again, bitch" John muttered into Lafayette's chest. "I had no one to complain to about Lex for fourteen months, Laf. It was hell."

Alex smacked his husband on the shoulder before pulling his old roommate into a tight hug.

"How was France, Herc? We missed you guys so much.”

Hercules grinned, stepping back from Alex so they could watch Laf engage in tradition—planting a wet, sloppy kiss on John’s lips, much to his dismay. "I'm pretty sure Marie and Laf are conspiring against me because they only ever converse in French anymore. But aside from that, it was incredible. I wasn't sure Laf was going to let us leave, to be honest."

"Uncle John?" said a small, clear voice from below.

"Hey, Marie," John smiled, kneeling down and taking the little girl's hands. "How are you doing?"

“What does that word that you said mean?" she asked innocently.

“What word, my love?”

“Bitch.”

Alex snorted into his hand and doubled over laughing as John's face drained of colour and Lafayette stared at him furiously.

"John Laurens-Hamilton. We have been home for one day. One. Day. Thank you very much, my friend." Laf bent down to address his daughter. "That's an adult word, my Marie. It's unnecessary to say, so we don't say it. Uncle John said a bad word, understand?"

"Oui, Papa. Il est un mauvais oncle."

It was Lafayette's turn to stifle his laughter.

"Anyways," Alexander insisted, ignoring John's glare at Laf. "How was the drive? Sorry we slept through you guys getting here."

Hercules shrugged. "Our flight landed yesterday morning, so we spent the night at home then left earlier today. We would have been here sooner if this one hadn't bought Marie a large coke at the gas station. We were stopping for pee breaks every twenty minutes."

Laughing, Alexander returned to his spot on the couch and took Philip back from his father, who looked like he hadn't moved since they went to bed.

Marie wandered over and tapped Alexander on the knee.

"May I hold baby Philip?"

"Oui," Alexander grinned, patting the empty spot next to him. She scrambled up—with Herc's help—and outstretched her arms, looking comically similar to how George looked earlier. When Alexander positioned Philip on Marie's lap, her entire face lit up as he looked at her with wide eyes.

"He's beautiful, Alex," Laf said as he joined Marie on the couch, gently brushing a finger along Philip's nose.

"Can we keep him, daddy? I want a baby brother," Marie said to Hercules, whose eyes grew wide.

"I—uh—I think it's going to be a few years before we look at getting you a baby brother, okay, honey?"

Marie stuck out her bottom lip and nodded, leaning down to kiss Philip's forehead.

"I'm going to go play now. You can have your baby back, Uncle Lex."

"No, no, no," Laf said, wiggling a finger at his daughter. "It's my turn! This is the first time he’s been away from George since we got here.”

“Since we got here,” John corrected, taking a seat on the floor next to Marie.

Laf picked up Philip and cooed incoherently at the poor child, who Alex could tell just wanted to sleep. Today was Philip's first day around people other than he and John, and though Alexander hid it well, he was feeling anxious about everything.

"Hey, Laf?" Alexander said quietly.

Laf raised his eyebrows, barely looking away from Philip.

"When did you feel like you knew what the hell you were doing with Marie?"

Lafayette chuckled, turning his full attention to Alexander.

"Let me tell you a secret, my friend," he said. "You literally never will. We're still making things up as we go. Like, when we went to France, we had no idea if that would be best for her. I mean, it was—we ended up loving it—but still. You never, ever know. You just do what feels right until they grow up and start making their own screwed up decisions. Like, for example...going to college and getting in the middle of a revenge fuck-fest with your boyfriend-and-eventual-husband."

Alexander laughed at the jab. The best part about Hercules and Lafayette was that no matter how long they went without talking or seeing one another, when they reconnected it was as if no time passed at all.

“John,” George said, standing up. “Do you want to help me bring out snacks and drinks?”

John nodded and followed George into the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, he looked down at the familiar linoleum floor and smiled.

“Hey, George?”

Humming in response, George continued to dig through a cupboard in search of a bag of chips.

“Thank you. For everything.”

At this, George stopped and turned to look at his son-in-law.

“It’s no trouble, John, really. You know you guys are always welcome h—”

“No,” John interjected. “I mean, thank you for everything. I mean, the people in this house are the only family I have—especially you. I seriously doubt I would have made it through college without you, and I’ve never told you that. So just…thank you.”

You know those really good hugs? The ones that are warm and strong and make you feel like crying because you feel so loved and so safe? Those were the types of hugs George gave. He held on until John’s breath hitched in his throat and he had to cough to stop himself from tearing up.

John cleared his throat gruffly and opened a cupboard.

“What do you have to drink?”

“Here.” George handed John a bowl of chips. “Bring these out. I’ll grab drinks.”

John put the bowl on the coffee table and sat next to Alexander, who was squished between Laf and Herc, laughing about something on the couch. Philip was laying on his play mat and Marie had pulled out a box of weathered, old Lego from Alex’s childhood.

A few minutes later, George emerged with two mugs in his left hand and three in his right.

“I made hot chocolate,” he said. “Extra marshmallows for Marie.”

“Just what she needs,” Hercules groaned, though Laf was smiling.

As soon as George set the drinks down on the table, everyone reached for their respective mugs.

Alexander caught John’s eye and grinned in the direction of his father, who had sat down on the floor to pick up his grandson and make funny faces to dazzle him.

John leaned in close and pressed his lips to his husband’s ear. “I love you so much, Lex.”

Wordlessly, Alexander slipped his hand into John’s and laced their fingers together, squeezing his palm.

He didn’t have to say anything.