#virg's little confused smile!!

[dominiks]

ibou going in for a hug but virg was just confused lmfao

#virg's little confused smile!! #i love ibou he's just a giant Baby #virgil van dijk #ibrahima konate #liverpool fc

[katblu42]

Dinosaur Bandaids

I am totally blaming thanking @womble1 for inspiring this one, with one little line from her Sweetapple Slice 8 fic.

Also many thanks to @gumnut-logic for the read-through and help with the piece that was missing.

CW for mentions of blood/bleeding (nothing gory)

Virgil fumbled the opening of the box, contents spilling to the floor as he attempted to grab what he needed with just one hand.  He cursed himself for his clumsiness.  Again.  It was clumsiness born of distraction that had necessitated the raiding of the little first aid kit to begin with.

Just a simple slip of the screwdriver and his left hand now had a nice bloody gouge in it.  Not deep, and not longer than a few millimetres, but bleeding profusely, and a little painful.  He had immediately wrapped a somewhat clean rag around his hand to staunch the bleeding while he fetched a bandaid to put over the wound.  Next stop would be the sink to clean the area before applying the sticky plaster.  If he was quick no one else would be any the wiser about his little mishap.

Of course, his hopes on that front were dashed as he bent to pick up the mess.

“Hey Virg!  Watch doin’?”  Gordon asked with mock innocence.

Virgil simply huffed in reply as Gordon scooped up the handful of little paper packets.

“Dinosaur bandaids, huh?”  A raised eyebrow to rival one of Virgil’s own was deployed, along with a knowing grin.  “Here, let me help.”

Plain beige sticking plasters were a rarity on Tracy Island.

The older residents of the villa would say it was because the Terrible Two had always demanded bright colours and fun designs on their wound dressings when they were little, and no one had ever bothered to change the habit during re-stocking purchases.

The Two in question would complain and say it was because said older residents had never admitted that the little ones were now adults.

There were some practical reasons too.  A brightly coloured sticky plaster that had fallen off while performing tasks like food preparation or some types of maintenance would be more easily visible than plain beige.

If Virgil was honest with himself he’d say the real reason was because they all sometimes needed the little mood lift the bright designs provided.  It was part of the magic ability bandaids had to make small injuries better.

Virgil allowed Gordon to take his hand and begin the process of cleaning and dressing the injury.  Once done, Gordon gently smoothed the sticky plaster’s edges down one last time before looking up and locking eyes with his big brother.

“There you go.  All better.  The dinosaurs will take care of that little scratch.”

Virgil matched his little brother’s smile and thanked him with a hug before returning the box of bandaids to their rightful place.

Long gone were the days when Gordon or Alan would come running to a big brother because of some perceived injury that was completely invisible.  The application of a blue bandaid covered in brightly coloured fish, or a black one with little red rockets, and a kiss to make it better was all it took to have a little brother smiling and running off to do more mischief.

Mom had done the same for the older boys when they had needed their bumps and scrapes tended.  And Dad and Grandma had done their share of both patching up, and sticky plaster purchasing.  There had never been boring beige ones as far back as Virgil could remember.  And there had often been a variety of sizes and shapes in the medicine cabinet.

The habit had stuck so fast (not unlike the plasters themselves) that it had even affected the restocking of the Thunderbirds. Plain bandaids in a variety of sizes and skin tones were carried in every kit and medbay, but there were almost equal numbers of the patterned ones in the larger first aid kits.

Offering an injured child a choice of dinosaurs or aeroplanes was sometimes just the right kind of distraction from the fear and confusion of whatever event they had just been through.  Virgil had even patched up a few beloved dolls and plushies with their own teddy bear plaster.

But, the novelty bandaids worked equally well on adults. 

There had been so many occasions when Virgil had treated a rescuee with only minor cuts and scrapes, but with the tell-tale tremble and haunted expression that prompted him to offer the choice of plain or patterned.  Without fail the glassy eyes would focus on the various designs, the tension in their bodies would ease and the bandaid magic would begin to take effect as they made their choice.

After all, when you’ve been through an event traumatic enough to require a Thunderbird to the rescue, doesn’t everyone deserve their very own superhero or fairy princess plaster to patch their wounds and lift their mood.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #cw blood

[whorekneecentral]

Promt 15 with virgil van dijk please, the innocence kink, and can it be with a slight age gap? X

all my favourite things in one <33 // prompt: “come sit on my lap.” 

tw: age gap (reader is 22-24) 

“Where are you off too, pretty girl?” Your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, you swear he had some sort of stupid super sonic hearing because you didn’t even make a sound as you came down the stairs and yet, he knew you were there.

You grumbled, walking into the kitchen. “How do you always do that?” 

Virgil was sat on one of the chairs by the table, the steam coming from the mug indicating that he just made something and by the smell of it, it was green tea. “Want a sip?” He offered, lifting the mug but you shook your head no, you never understood how he drank that stuff. 

The man repeats his question from earlier when he see your outfit. “Where are you off too?” 

It was pretty late, well not really but it was for Virgil, considering he's been up since 6 that morning. “Out with Jess and the girls,” you tell him and he nods. 

“Where are you guys going?” He sets the mugs back down and you shrug. 

“Not sure yet, maybe dinner.” Virgil’s brows furrowed, the wrinkles on his forehead appearing as he looked at you. Both of you knew dinner was not where you were headed. 

He pats his thigh, “come sit on my lap.” 

Before you even register, you were walking over to him and preached on his thigh, an arm over his shoulder.  Your boyfriend’s got your chin between his thumb and index finger, pulling your focus to him. “You know I don’t like when you lie to me, sweetheart.” 

“Me?” you fein shock, “lie? I’m offended that you think I would ever lie to you, Virgil.” 

The man smiles, nodding. “Of course, forgive me. You’d never lie to me, right?” You can feel his hand rubbing up your bare thigh, and you’re already melting against him. 

“Now I have to ask,” he kissed down your jaw, “is this what you wear to dinner nowadays?” 

He glances at your outfit; your little blue top barely covered enough to meet your skirt, which stopped mid thigh and your knee high boots of course, it’s still cold out after all. 

“Mhm hm.” 

You’re leaning back into his chest, Virgil's hand slipping between your thigh, fingers wandering dangerously close to exactly where you want it but then he just stops. 

His hand goes and he’s nudging you off his lap. You turn to face him, clearly confused. “Wha- Why’d you do that?” You asked, a pout playing on your pink coloured lips. 

His head tilts, looking at you just as confused as you looked at him. “You’re going to dinner, aren't you?” 

“Virg,” you pouted, sitting yourself back on his lap. 

The man watches as you pull his hand back to where it was, this time you were facing him and you can feel him moving his hand soooo painfully slow. “I’ll cancel dinner,” you whispered to him and he smiles. 

“That’s my girl.” 

#not really smutty but oh well #virgil van dijk #virgil van dijk smut #virgil van dijk x reader

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Grannies - part 3

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Unedited.

Summary: Gordon’s committed to the bit. The bit just happens to be an obnoxious amount of granny squares

Part 1 here | Part 2 here

Also just added to AO3

In this part: Virgil

“Your brother,” Virgil says, sinking heavily across from Scott at his work desk. The words trail… “Infuriating.” The chair was only there some of the time - mostly when more than one of them had to be on a conference call. 

Scott raises an eyebrow, his typing unhindered by his younger brother suddenly resting his cheeks on the wooden desk in defeat. “And? What did Gordon do now?” 

It’s of no consequence to Virgil that his big brother can tell just who’s the problem. It's obviously Gordon. They all have their little tiffs every now and then, but none of them would ever headdesk over the youngest, John's too far away for arguments to linger, and since Virgil is coming to Scott…

Virgil and Gordon work together too closely sometimes.

The interesting part is Gordon's off duty; he was called out to Eddington to spend some time on site with his marine research and would continue to be on leave for another four days.

“He leave you with a parting gift?” Scott asks. “Replaced your hair gel with Vaseline? Reorganized your paints? Switched your phone to pig latin?”

“Ugh, do not put those ideas out in the Universe,” Virgil warns, warily raising his head from his hands to glance around the villa. He doesn’t put it past Gordon to have ears around, especially those named Alan. Feeling safe that no one is hiding nearby, he swings back to Scott, his eyes narrowing as he catches sight of familiar stitching resting on the desk underneath Scott’s coffee. “You!”  

Virgil clambers for the square, pushing the mug to where the desk is bare. Luckily, Scott’s mostly drunk it through and so the liquid barely swirls halfway up the side in his haste to grab for the fabric below it. 

He glares at Scott.  

“It’s finished.” He raises the granny square up to Scott’s eye level, his fingertips white where he holds up the coffee-stained yarn. “How is this one finished?”  The confusion on Scott’s face dissipates, and Virgil notices the quirk of his smile that tells him Scott is biting the inside of his cheek to keep his expression in check.  “Why are you laughing? Stop it,” he says. 

Scott takes this as permission, of course, to crack a smile, and Virgil’s eyebrow twitches indignantly. 

“This is about the blanket, then?” Scott calmly and gently pries his coaster from Virgil’s fingers and straightens it back on the desk, followed by the mug in its proper position. “Before you start shouting betrayal, Gordon is still a shit and equal-opportunity pest. John wove in the ends for me last time he was here.” 

“John did?” 

“Yes.” 

Virgil deflates; the sigh deeply lodged in his chest as he squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Do you think he’d be willing to do about, oh, 200 more? And how do you know about the blanket?”

“Neither one of you are entirely subtle.” 

“Gordon figured it out, didn’t he?”

Scott hesitates. Nods. “There’s really only so much you can do with them. Retaliate, or make something. Gordon knows you well enough to know you won’t discard them. So…”

“So, he already knows I’m making something. Left all of these ends unwoven on purpose? Chose the most offensive colors known to humankind, specifically to annoy me?” Virgil shakes his head, groaning. “Nevermind, I don’t need you to answer.” 

“You know who he is,” Scott says with a grinning shrug. “I can’t let you disown him.” 

“Pity.” 

“Is that what dragged you down here all defeated?” 

Virgil points a finger. “I am not defeated. I’m frustrated. And I’m not sure there’s a point to all of it if there’s no element of surprise.” 

“Virg-”

“I’ve been trying for,” he checks his watch, “five hours to arrange these squares together, and nothing looks right. So what do I do? I take a break, weave in some ends, come back to it after. And after - I have more ends and still no design.” 

“That sounds pretty defeated to me.” 

“He wants me to go insane!” 

“He wants you to embrace his chaos,” Scott amends. “Come now, Virgil. You got this. Let us help,” he encourages, and Virgil has no choice but to sigh as his brother reaches for the comm to Thunderbird Five. “John, we have a situation.”

Their brother smirks when he answers. His hair is a shade darker than usual and waving in its wet, unstyled shape, indicating that John’s only recently gotten out of the shower. He’s dressed, but hasn’t switched his glasses for contacts. “You know, that’s my line,” he responds dryly. “Good Morning, Virgil.” 

It’s 3PM. 

But it is the first time Virgil has had a chance to speak to John since he spent the bulk of his morning with the project at hand. Virgil usually checks in with their distant space monitor during his morning coffee, so Virgil internally scolds himself for the rude gesture he was about to make and recognizes the irritation he feels is not John’s - or even Scott’s - fault. He waves instead. 

It’s easier to let Scott explain. As the oldest of them, he has a way of focusing on facts and details for emotionally charged situations. It’s one of the reasons he’s a great commander. Of course, if he’s the one emotionally charged, that’s a different story.  

“Show me his stitches, again?” 

Now, John however, he’s concise - often three steps ahead before he clues the rest of them in. 

Scott picks up the coaster and pushes his chair back to come around the desk to give John a better view. Once Virgil spins his chair to fully face John’s hologram, Scott places a hand on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” John tells him, matter-of-fact. “Crochet what ends you can when you join squares together. Measure everything so I can get enough fabric, and I’ll help you put a lining on it.” He says the list of instructions with the same inflection as when directing a rescue, his hands flying across the resources in front of him. 

It’s not a bad idea. With a lining, the most weaving he might need to do would be ensuring all ends were on the “wrong” side of the squares.  

“What about if something pokes through the spaces of the granny square?” 

John raises an eyebrow at Virgil’s question. “He’ll deal. He knew what he was doing when he didn’t finish them off properly. Don’t worry, we’ll find something so obnoxiously fishy, he won’t care. I found a pattern here with anemones in little hats.” 

Virgil can’t help but giggle at that, and John smiles at him brightly, his eyes larger behind the wire frames. 

“I’ll keep looking,” he tells him. “We can keep workshopping ideas.”

“Thanks, Jay. Now about the arranging,” Scott says. “I have some ideas about that, Virgil, if you’re willing to show me what you have.”

Grateful, Virgil nods. “Another set of eyes would be great.”

“F-A-B! Let’s go make order out of chaos.”

#fic: grannies #gavii scribit #Gordon tracy #Virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #crafty tracys

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 7 - Reject

A little more Virg POV following on from all this.

He is… somewhat confused and very much peeved.

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Virgil hadn’t felt this furious in a long, long time.

Normally things that made him angry required practical action - stemming blood flow, ensure an injured brother was safe from the threat, if not, get brother away from the threat. Then there was the task of watching over them as they recovered, monitoring stats.

He would quietly mourn the souls they couldn’t save, making a note of names and dates. Calmly write engineering reports that would ensure particular persons found themselves unable to take such risks again. Maybe go on a design binge with Brains to find ways of making next time better.

The remaining rage he couldn’t expunge through practical, constructive solutions he threw into art or music, forcing the bitterness and pain out through his arms on to canvas or keys before collapsing, empty and exhausted, into bed in the small hours.

But this… this anger had come out of nowhere. It had, he realised been lurking there for years, unacknowledged, perhaps even unnoticed. It filled his veins with a bitter, stinging substance and he had to battle to keep it in check. He was the calm one. Scotty needed him to keep his head.

Scotty needed him.

“Can I come in, Virgie?”

Virgil glanced at Scotty who was no longer happy and smiling and didn’t show any sign of having heard what Dad said. He had gone quiet and was fiddling with some of Shadow’s switches with a worried expression on his face. So, even though he wasn’t the pilot in charge, Virgil answered for the both of them.

“There isn’t room. We’ve gotta go.”

“It’s ok, you’ve… you’ve got plenty of time. Look I’m just going to slip in here so we can chat alright?”

His father had clambered into the pilot’s seat before he could shout at him not to squash Scotty and then… no. NO!

“Where did you send Scotty? Dad! Please, no, don’t let him leave without me. Not this time!”

His blood was fizzing violently and he knew his voice was shaking but he tried not to shout. He mustn’t shout. Dad shouted when he was cross. Scott shouted when he was cross. Virgil was the calm, logical one. Virgil made it better.

“Um… Virgil I think… uh… Scotty is needed inside, for uh, a briefing. Ok? Can… can you come too? I’ll give you a lift down?”

Dad sounded oddly unsure of himself and Virgil knew he was lying and he… he couldn’t be calm Virgil anymore. Everything burned.

“You’ve upset him and he’s run away! How can you not see what you’ve done to him? All these years you just won’t stop asking and asking. He’s killing himself trying to please you Dad and I can’t make him see. I can’t make him stop. He won’t stop. He… can’t stop. Because of YOU! But this would have made him happy, if he can save his friends and I was going to make it work for him! You can’t just waltz back in here and take over and send him away! Not again!”

Those blue eyes, so very much like his brother’s, were wide and sad and… scared.

Dad was never scared.

Dad was scared… of him?

Virgil didn’t know what to do with that because people shouldn’t be scared of him because he was the calm kind one. He felt dizzy and sick.

With an effort he unclenched his fists, closed his eyes and pressed his face against the cool plexiglass window, trying to find his balance, trying to bury the confused but overwhelming memories of when he’d last been so angry that he’d hurt his father.

Everything fizzed and buzzed and burned but then something scratched his neck and the fizz started to become fuzz and there was a voice and he strained to hear but couldn’t make out what Dad was saying anymore…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #thunderangst #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #Tw: mental health #tw: psychosis #Resurface fic

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Gibbous Chapter 12: Facing Down A Dark Hall

Chapter Title: Facing Down A Dark Hall Chapter Summary: The milliseconds of Virgil falling seemed to illogically stretch into an eternity. Then Logan’s body moved, his arms grasping out to catch Virgil before his head collided with the hard tile floor. Pairings: platonic analogical, platonic logicality Chapter Word-Count: 4k Warnings: Sickness, Anxiety, Arguments, Brief Mentions of Disassociation, Hurt/Comfort Previous | Present | Next   AO3 Link 

-

The milliseconds of Virgil falling seemed to illogically stretch into an eternity. Then Logan’s body moved, his arms grasping out to catch Virgil before his head collided with the hard tile floor.

Such an action would not have been possible if not for his heightened reflexes that had allowed him to move quickly in to prevent a probable concussion. He took a deep breath, attempting to settle down the cortisol pulsating through him. His skin no longer itched—that would be a gross inaccurate descriptor. It burned as if he’d endured an intolerable amount of exposure to a scorching summer sun. He gritted his too-sharp teeth until they became less pointy and more round along the edges.

Behind him, the office door closed shut with a resounding click of its lock.

Patton’s doing, no doubt, but he paid this little mind as Virgil stirred awake in this moment. This was a good sign as contrary to fiction, most fainting victims only lose a few seconds of consciousness. It was, of course, not a good sign at all that Virgil had fainted in the first place.

Humans did not typically faint from the common cold. But they could faint from a variety of factors, some that could be compounded, such as if they were dehydrated, possibly hungover and stressed with a weakened immune system. Which is what Logan suspected could possibly be the case in this situation.

“Virgil?” Logan asked.

“Gurgkh,” Virgil groaned, squinting up at the fluorescent lights with a pinched expression. He soon dropped his head towards the tile floor, his body shuddering with the motion.

Logan frowned, adjusting his hold so he could press a hand against Virgil’s temple. While a thermometer would be best, it was simple to surmise Virgil had a fever from its warmth. Logan stated as much.

“Virgil, you have a fever.”

“S’okay,” Virgil said, his lungs wheezing.

Logan could barely rein in the frankly embarrassing low, guttural growl that threatened to burst forth from his jaws. A werewolf would know it was a request to stay put, to not put oneself in unnecessary danger. A human wouldn’t understand that. So very understandably, Virgil had jolted at the small slip of the growl that managed to escape.

The human’s heartrate spiked as he looked up frantically between Logan and Patton. The latter of which had positioned himself in front of the door as if prepared to maul anyone who dared disturb them.

“Logan,” He said with a faint hoarse voice, “just checking, you didn’t, um, duplicate yourself or something, right?”

He was still showing signs of confusion. Or perhaps he recalled seeing Patton at the door and had belatedly come to the realization that both Logan and Patton were present.

Patton came closer, moving to kneel next to the two. “Virge, kiddo, it’s me, Patton. That’s Logan.”

“Oh,” Virgil swallowed back a cough, “yeah, that makes more sense. Hi Patton.”

“Hi, Virgil,” Patton greeted, smiling, “What are you doing working today?”

“Uhhh,” Virgil’s eyebrows squished together, “what do you mean? I was scheduled to work today—”

“What he means,” Logan said, interrupting, “Is that you are sick Virgil. You should be resting.”

Logan blatantly ignored the side-eye from Patton. The other werewolf knew full well that Logan was not technically sick. He was simply more influenced by his biology at the moment. There was a difference and that difference mattered when Virgil’s needs were currently higher than his own.

Virgil stared at them, as if struggling to process the meaning behind Logan’s words. Which did nothing to placate the amounting concern Logan had for Virgil’s wellbeing. Had the human experienced repeatedly being punished for being susceptible for a physical condition out of his control?

Before Logan could vocalize such a question, Virgil began wiggling against his hold, “I’ve had worse, I’m fine, I can still work!”

It was a weak attempt, even when considering the significant difference in strength between a human and a werewolf. Still, Logan’s wolfish instincts didn’t like that. Virgil was an unwell pack member. He needed to be protected and looked after until he was well again. “The fact you’ve had it worse is not reassuring in the slightest.” Logan said, “Virgil, did you really presume that I wouldn’t understand your need to take a sick day?”

“I’m not sick, really.” Virgil insisted, a stubborn glint to his eyes. Logan would remain undeterred.

“You are currently experiencing a fever, not to mention having fainted and displaying signs of delirium. You are sick.” Logan said, levying each symptom with a measured methodical tone, “Theoretically you could still work, yes, but not only are you risking your health by working, but you are also risking the health of those around you. The library is a public domain, already filled with all sorts of germs which could affect your current weakened immune system. It’d be wise to stay home where you lessen the risks of contamination.”

“I promise it’s just…really bad monthly allergies,” Virgil said, his eyes directed away from the two of them, “nobody else ever catches it, trust me.”

“Virgil, please, your body needs rest to feel better,” Patton said, casting another unsubtle glance towards Logan, “if you try ignoring that need, you’ll only feel worse.”

Something flitted across Virgil’s face at this. Grief? Frustration? Understanding? Logan did not know; he could not read others’ expressions as well as Patton’s. As quick as the emotion appeared, it vanished as Virgil’s features smoothed out into a blank placidity. Almost as if the human had drifted deep into the recesses of his thoughts.

“Virgil,” Logan said, pausing to allow Virgil’s eyes to blearily refocus on him, “perhaps we could drive you to an urgent care—”

“No!” He shook his head violently, “No, no, no doctor—I’m not that sick, trust me, this is nothing!”

Something lodged itself in Logan’s throat as an obvious realization struck him. This was not the first time Virgil refused to see a doctor. He’d done the same the morning he had woken up in their house that morning after Patton practically kidnapped him. Even after being told he’d been in a mostly feverish unconscious state for two days he had refused to see a doctor. Logan had thought it was strange at the time. But he had been far more relieved that Virgil did not seem upset at them to question it.

Now that relief had only mutated into guilt. At the time, it was logical for Logan’s concern to be reserved only for the safety of the pack. Yet despite his current concern for Virgil’s wellbeing, he’d never reflected further on Virgil’s behavior all those months ago.

Much like how he avoided reminiscing about the past on principle. It was futile to waste time dwelling on things that could not be absolved or reversed. Instead, it was better to keep one’s attention focused on the present, where actions could be made, and words could be said to ensure an expedient outcome for the future.

Still, there were times where it was appropriate to surmise past events—it would be absurd to deny otherwise. Perhaps if he’d done so earlier, Logan would be more adept at helping Virgil in this instance.

Patton reached out, placing a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. Logan tensed up; a snarl being held back by rational thought. Patton was pack. He would not hurt Virgil, especially not when he’d been the first to claim Virgil as pack. If anything, Logan was the more probable one to harm Virgil.

“Virgil, why don’t you want to see a doctor?” Patton asked. He gave yet another glance towards Logan, even more obvious than before. Logan would growl if it didn’t prove Patton’s point, as well as potentially frighten Virgil.

“Already said, I’m not sick enough.” Virgil sneezed.

“You are avoiding the question,” Logan pointed out, “If you are sick, doctors can provide medical assistance to alleviate the symptoms. Even if it is the common flu, they provide antibiotics to aid you in recovering faster. So, tell us the real reason behind your aversion.”

Virgil stared at him, jaw clenching. “They don’t help. I just—my immune system is shit, that’s all. I always get sick for a few days and then—then things are fine.”

“But things are not fine right now,” Patton said, “Pup, even if you are used to getting sick easily, it doesn’t change the fact you’re feeling less-than-awesome.”

Rather than comforting Virgil, his words appeared to have the opposite effect. Virgil’s facial expressions flattened again into a smooth, neutral stare. Logan did not understand it. Patton was objectively the most reassuring person he knew. If he couldn’t reach through to Virgil, how would any of Logan’s methods be more effective?

But he had to continue to try—he would not know until then if it was futile for certain.

“Virgil, I do not know how your previous employers treated you,” Logan said, attempting to keep his words steady and coherent as possible, “but I do not think less of you, nor would I even contemplate firing you, over needing to take a sick day. It would be hypocritical of me since I take my own sick days, as it were.”

Virgil didn’t respond. Though he maintained eye contact with Logan, there was no indication he acknowledged Logan’s words. His body remained tense and rigid, much like a prey animal prepared to flee at any given moment. It was a swift contrast to his previous vehement outburst. Virgil was shutting down.

Logan’s teeth were too sharp again. He knew this because when he bit down on his tongue (a nervous habit) he tasted blood. The tips of his ears burned—not out of embarrassment or anger, but rather because they were becoming too angular. His muscles spasmed, frayed from being pulled taunt into a form it did not want to stay in.

He whined. Not the type of whining a human might make, but a more high-pitched whine like that of a canine. He was shifting. Normally, even at this phase in the lunar cycle, he would not be losing control this easily. A lack of sleep and stress, however, could play a factor in his current instability.

“Logan,” Patton said. It was just his name and yet he’d known Patton long enough to know it was more than his name. It was a “I told you so” and “Are you okay?” and “What can I do to help?” and so much more.

He nodded, an acknowledgement of such sentiments. But he did not answer them explicitly. Instead, he kept his focus centered on Virgil, who still blankly held his gaze.

“Virgil, listen,” Logan exhaled sharply as a tremor ran down his spine, “V—Virgil, I am concerned—no, let me rephrase it, I need you—if you could—come home, please.”

He intended a logical progression of words meant to convince Virgil. But in his compromised state that grievous slew of nonsensical sentimentality slipped out instead. The small fringes of Logan’s psyche that could remain objective about the situation noted that he branded himself a hypocrite with such words. He asserted to Patton weeks ago they couldn’t just insist Virgil stay at their house. It was important the human to make decisions of his own free will. Especially considering how poorly he reacted to Remy enthralling someone the previous night.

“Come…home?” Virgil asked, his voice just above a whisper. His head tilted sideways like a dog cocking its head in confusion.

Logan did not say anything. With the aches and pops of his joints, he could not trust anything but a whine or howl to come out. Even if he was certain his face was still very humanoid-shaped, his vocal cords might not be.

“Yes, kiddo, home,” Patton predictably reaffirmed, his gaze flitting towards Logan before going back to Virgil, “I can make you some of my magic soup—the noodles are shaped like dinosaurs. I was already on planning on making it today anyways.”

Virgil stared at Patton, but his face didn’t fall into that absent placidity of before. There was something there, in the twitch of his eyebrows, the shuddering of a breath that almost formed words. Logan did not know what the human’s inner thoughts could possibly be. Even if Logan had an infinitesimal amount of time to study the human’s expression, he doubted he’d accurately speculate on it.

“I’m not sick,” Virgil said slowly, quietly, “but—but okay.”

He slumped against Logan, loose and limp like a doll rather than a living being capable of moving on its own. The human’s heartbeat steadied out as each shut of his eyelids lasted longer than the last. It appeared as though the human’s exhaustion was finally catching up to him.

“Sleep,” Patton said with a low rumble, “You’re safe with us.”

Virgil, to Logan’s astonishment, whined in protest at him. It was nothing like a high pitched frustrated whine of a wolf. But it did come across much the same way.  

“I’m not tired.” Virgil mumbled.

A small chuff of laughter escaped Patton. He reached forward, gathering Logan and Virgil in his arms. Logan could not deny that the embrace had a very placating effect. He could feel his teeth revert back to rounder edges, the itch of his skin returning to a more tolerable level. He had not reverted back completely to a humanoid form, but it was enough to keep him from shifting to the opposite side of the spectrum.

“Hi not tired, I’m Dad.” Patton said, unable to refrain from making a dad joke to lighten the mood. Patton, of course, was not the biological father of anyone. Roman, however, had taken to calling him Padre and he’d been so thrilled he full heartedly leaned into it. Patton was not Logan’s father figure. But privately, Logan regarded him as being closer to one than his biological father had ever been.

Virgil grumbled into the fabric of Logan’s dress shirt. The human might’ve meant to say something, but it was indistinguishable even by two pairs of ears with heightened sense of hearing. His breaths then evened out in midst of coughs and sniffles. If Logan dared to look down, he would see the human unconscious and safe at last.

Human, not packmate. Because Virgil was not a wolf or more importantly, despite what Logan’s instincts urged, Logan would not force upon a dynamic the human did not consent to. Especially if even the mention of being pack could potentially scare the human off like it had when Virgil first met them.

Regardless, Virgil had agreed to go home with them. Home, where he’d be safe and protected, where Logan could keep his promise to Remy.

“Logan, how are you feeling?” Patton asked, breaking through Logan’s internal monologue.

“I am fine,” Logan said before hastily adding on, “I will be better once we are home. But I think I can manage driving—”

“No,” Patton said, “I’ll drive.”

Logan wanted to argue. While Patton was fully capable of driving, he was prone to braking hard (giving his passengers carsickness along the way) and getting easily lost. Or not lost per say. It was more the fact he was easily prone to taking detours to whatever sight caught his fancy. Even with the invention of the GPS, he was prone to moments of distractibility that led to him missing turns. But Logan also knew when Patton focused, he could be a reliable driver particularly when taking familiar routes. In a situation like this, he could trust him.

Especially when Logan had to concede Patton was right—Logan would be more of a liability behind the wheel at the moment. The last thing Logan wanted was to irreparably harm or even cause death to another person on the road due to his stubbornness.

Patton picked up on his hesitancy, softly adding on, “I will drive safe, I promise.”

Logan nodded in silent defeat. Satisfied, Patton turned his gaze towards Virgil, a small frown tugging at his lips, “Do you think…we should take him to a doctor?”

Objectively, that would be the most ideal course of action. A medical professional would be able to prescribe stronger medication. Additionally, they could discern if Virgil’s sickness was something life threatening or if it was a mild strain of the flu.

Logan was almost certain was the latter’s case, but his credentials were severely outdated, as well as lacking the diagnostic tools to be fully certain. Which was why they should take Virgil to a doctor.

But Virgil had seemed almost terrified of seeing a doctor. As if he had bad experiences that warranted fear and wariness. Logan and Patton had scarcely managed to gain the human’s trust. Logan would prefer to avoid breaking that tentative trust unless it was absolutely necessary to ensure Virgil’s wellbeing.

“Not yet, not unless his fever doesn’t break with the usage of over the counter medications,” Logan said at last.

“Okay,” Patton said, pulling off his hoodie. He then placed the hoodie beside Logan. “Here, put this on. I’ll carry Virgil.”

Logan did so without question. Once a certain Virgil was secure in Patton’s arms, he picked up the hoodie and burrowed himself inside it. He did not often wear hoodies—call him old fashioned but he largely preferred button up shirts and waistcoats to the clothing of this era. But this hoodie was Patton’s, and it was soothing to his wolfish side to wear a trinket that belonged to a packmate. Moreso, the soft excessive fabric of a hood concealed his ears, which were too long and floppy to be considered human.

Patton smiled at him. “Ready?”

Logan nodded, words once seeming to dry up in his throat. There was something he was forgetting about. Something that would be of highest priority to him before he left the office. Yet he found that something, whatever it was, mattering very little when he did not want to remain a moment longer in his office.

True to his word, Patton drove back home safely without delay. The lulling of the car in motion abated Logan to the edges of sleep. The one thing that kept him from being fully asleep was Virgil. The human jerked to consciousness against his seatbelt; eyes alit in agitation.

When Logan questioned if he was alright, Virgil nodded his head profusely, “Yea-yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just don’t like cars.” And while his frantic movement ceased, the human’s heartrate remained elevated.

If he had been in a more alert, stable state of mind, Logan might have been able to offer some words of comfort to Virgil. But his exhaustion left him staring at Virgil in stupefied concerned silence. He’d given Virgil a ride to their house for that ill-fated movie night. Virgil at the time portrayed signs of nervousness within the car but Logan had not thought much regarding it. Instead, he attributed the nervousness to the movie night, not to the car ride itself.

He was aware, logically of course, there were many things regarding his past he withheld from Virgil. So, it would be hypocritical for him to feel slighted at Virgil for withholding his own trauma from Logan. Especially considering their rather weird, convoluted friendship.

Recently, Logan was becoming too aware of the fact there existed an unfortunate power dynamic considering the fact he was Virgil’s boss and Virgil was his employee. Even if Logan would not ever intend to abuse that power, it did not mean Virgil wouldn’t perceive otherwise. Which is why he had been so cautious when it came to confronting Virgil on recent events. Virgil’s refusal to understand Logan genuinely wanted him to take a sick day only proved to confirm his fears.

He did not regret giving Virgil a job—even if it had been due to guilt regarding the basement incident, but he did regret the inherent boundary that existed between them because of it. There was a reason why he kept professional distance between himself and colleagues. It made things less messy and convoluted.

There was a barrage of noises. Images flew past him, blobs of colors and shapes that meant something significant but it left Logan’s brain as soon as it appeared. Something was slammed, then it was silent once more.

“—Logan?” A voice called out. It sounded faint, as if the person was calling him from a great distance. Someone reached out and squeezed his shoulder briefly as their voice grew clearer. “Logan, are you with me?”

As he lifted his head, he realized he was no longer in the car. He was inside the house, specifically upstairs in the hallway leading to what was technically Patton’s room. The werewolf himself was standing in front of him, frowning.

“I’m sorry, what was it, Patton?” Logan asked, his teeth clacking with a barely suppressed shiver. His body swayed from side to side. Body chills, brief lapse of memory, difficulty standing. He could not keep from the inevitable for much longer.

Patton chuffed, placing his hands on Logan’s shoulders to steady him. “Logan, let go.”

“I know, Un—Patton, I will,” He said obstinately, “just allow me to see Virgil before I—”

“No,” Patton bit back, “No more. You may see him after.”

“I cannot,” Logan whined, “Patton.”

Patton looked at him, expression unflinching. “You will not harm him. You will not. You know this already. But you will harm yourself further if you do not let go right now.”

Logan had no further argument against this. So, when his bones began to pop beneath his skin, he let it happen. The itch in his skin intensified, as long black fur spread through every inch of his body. Patton guided him to the floor as his bones broke into many, many pieces. Some of these pieces shortened, while others elongated, forming an entirely new shape of his skeleton.

It hurt the first few times it happened. His body still remembered it was not natural for itself to reshape into a new distinct form. It fought against the transformation, causing him to be sick for weeks leading up to it and in the aftermath. The shift had been agonizing slow, taking over ten minutes to complete.

Now, it lasted seconds. It did not hurt anymore to shift—it was the opposite, really. It hurt him when he did not shift. It was like holding your breath. It was easy and doable for the first few seconds, but eventually the painful burning sensation in your lungs would cause you to gasp for air. It was a relief to take that breath again and have that ache soothed at long last.

A barrage of sensations hit him as he lifted himself to stand on four legs. Scents, sights, sounds were all much sharper in this form. But he paid them no mind as he sought after Virgil. He was still Logan, no matter his form. He still retained rational thoughts—it was just that his wolfish instincts were harder to ignore when he was a literal wolf.

But these instincts, the same ones that drove him to leave the house today in the first place, did not want to harm Virgil. He nudged the door to Patton’s room open, spotting Virgil nestled underneath blankets of Patton’s bed staring at him. Good, he was resting safe within their den. Logan would see to it that would stay good.

Without opposable thumbs, he could not minister medicine—he would have to leave the responsibility to Patton. But he could lay down by Virgil’s side and ensure no harm befell him during his slumber. He crept towards the bed, keeping his movement slow and deliberate.

He paused by the bed, peering up at Virgil, who did not protest the proximity of his closeness. Taking this as permission, he clambered onto the bed which at last resulted in Virgil finally reacting to his presence.

But rather than scream or try to get away from Logan, Virgil slung a shaky arm around his neck, drawing him close to his chest.

“Don’t leave me. Please, don’t—don’t.” Virgil mumbled in feverish delirium, his eyes fluttering shut.

It was not exactly pleasant to be embraced in such a way as a wolf. It restricted his movement which brought discomfort. But if it brought solace to Virgil, his sick packmate, the wolf would allow it. With one long contented exhale, Logan pressed himself closer to Virgil, his tail thumping softly against the comforter of its own volition.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #logicality #kat writes

[riverxxxo]

𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 【eddie munson】

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧ ✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧ ✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬

Parings: Eddie munson x !Gn reader

Warning(s) fluff, smut, protected sex, virg!n Eddie and reader. More fluff.

Requested: yes.

You would sit at the picnic table with your boyfriend Eddie, eating lunch together. You both had a little hideout spot, The table, and a little makeshift fort. He had made you both some bologna sandwiches And brought his radio, the perfect ideal date. He smirks at you while eating his sandwich, Metallica, master of puppets playing in the background "you know, I think it's cute when you eat. You have cute little squishy chipmunk cheeks. I wanna squish it so much."

He'd give a big smile as you look at him smiling, trying to eat at the same time taking a drink of water "yeah, so do you, Munson, but guess what? I wanna squish yours all the time, and I can."

You'd smirk as you grabbed his cheeks and poked his belly "gotcha, didn't I?" Eddie would giggle, rolling his eyes, nodding, "yeah yeah, you got me, butthead" smiling, you lay on your back looking up at the sky, Eddie humming along to the song, fiddling with a blade of grass trying to intertwine it. "You think I'm ever gonna get out of here? I mean do you think I will?" he'd ask quietly as you turn your head to look at him "of course Eddie, why do you think you wouldn't?" He shrugs, sighing, "I don't know, man. I just feel like I'm destined to fail" you'd sit up shaking your head. "Eddie, you know that ain't true" sighing, looking at you, he places a kiss on your lips, handing you a little grass bracelet he had made. " I gotta pick something up at the store for you," You'd look at him confused "what is it?!" Eddie would kiss your head, smiling. "I can't tell.. But I know you'll enjoy It." Grabbing his radio and the food, putting it in the back of the car, opening the door for you, and getting in.

Eddie would pull in the parking lot, kissing your head "ill be right back" you nod as he walks in, asking the woman behind the counter for the Fleetwood mac rumors album he ordered through the catalog last a few days ago it was the album you had been talking about non-stop but couldn't find it anywhere. He handed the woman the money, grabbing you some candy and a plushie you had been looking for as well. Walking out, he bit his lip, thinking about something. Walking back inside the store, he walks down the aisle awkwardly, looking at a box of condoms. You and Eddie had never done anything together. Hell, he had never done anything himself. Reading the chart, he went with large ones. Awkwardly walking back to the cashier, paying and stuffing it in the bag, hurrying back to the car biting his lip and putting it on the back. Eddie would get back in the car, looking at you, blushing, looking straight, trying to hide it as you looked at him confused, "are you okay or.."

"Yeah, I'm great! Just nervous"

You'd look at him even more confused, furrowing your eyebrows "nervous about what..?"

he would shake his head, kissing your hand "it's nothing, love, don't worry about it, let's just go home, yeah? And then I can show you what I got you" you'd roll your eyes kissing his cheek. “alright love whatever you say."

-

You both would arrive back at his trailer, pulling in the driveway, shutting off the car, opening the car door for you, smiling, opening the trunk, getting the stuff out. Walking up to the trailer, funding for his keys and unlocking the door, walking in Eddie sets the bag down by the couch, walking over to the end table lighting a cigarette standing by the don't blowing the smoke out cause you didn't handle it well. Smiling over at you chucking the butt outside and shutting the door back he walks back over to you telling you to close your eyes. Eddie then hands you your album and the plushie. Opening your eyes. Your eyes widen as you gasp, looking at him, back down, and again. "Where did you get these..? Eddie, you didn't have to." he'd smile, sitting next to you, rasing his eyebrow smirking. “I know, but I wanted to! So I did. Wanna listen to it?" He smiles, walking over to his record player, turning it on, blowing The dust off putting your record on. "You know, I'm starting to like your music taste y/n. It's calming." You nod, smiling. "And I like your music Ed's, my little metal head," you'd smile, kissing his head and listening to the music. You both spend at least an hour dancing with each other. Eddie smiles, looking at you "you know you're perfect, right y/n?"

You wouldn't say anything as he frowns, looking at you.

"right..?" you'd sigh, looking up at him, pressing your chin against eddies chest looking up at him. "yeah, I guess so. I don't know what you see in me, though," Eddie would gasp, play smacking your shoulder "how dare thy speak like that! You're a princess y/n, you're perfect, and you're beautiful, inside and out. That's why I love you. And I always will no matter what, okay?" you would look up at him teary-eyed as you nod kissing him. Smiling, he kisses you back, Trying to plop you on the couch but failing. Losing his balance, he drops you halfway on the couch and lands between the sofa and coffee table. In the process, Eddie knocked over the bag with condoms in it. You see the, your eyes widening looking at Eddie.

"is that what you were nervous about earlier, Ed's?" Eddie Would sit up looking at you, not saying a word, embarrassed as he nodded softly, looking away, ashamed thinking you were mad at him. You smile softly and take his face in your hands. "Eddie, my love. You're okay, I promise. You wanna tell me why you got them?"

Eddie would blush, smiling softly, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away. "well, I was thinking. Whenever you're ready, maybe we could.. I Don't know. It was stupid, and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to" you'd run your fingers through his hair, kissing him lovingly. "Love, you never make me uncomfortable, and you never will. If you did, I would tell you. and who said I wasn't ready?" Eddies eyes would widen looking at you a sparkle in his eyes. "w-what? Are you sure?" He'd look at you with concern and love. Nodding, you smile softly, pulling him into a hug as Eddie gets an idea running out of the room as you sit there, confused. He would run outback, clipping some of the neighbor's roses, the old lady yelling at him for doing so and ripping the petals off around the room, laying a single one on the bed, lighting some candles, making it all nice. He puts his hands on his hips and stands in the doorway, proud of himself as he walks back out, sitting next to you, kissing you softly and lovingly. "I just have one question, why would you want to with me, man?"

You'd stand up smiling "because you're my everything, my best friend, lover, and future husband. And if we do it, and you leave? I'll run your ass over." He gasped, laughing, "my god, you're so cute" he'd pick you up, carry you into the bedroom, and gently lay you on the bed, looking around and admiring how he set everything up. Eddie would sit on the edge of the bed, looking at you, the candlelight making his face glow and his eyes sparkle. "are you sure you want this?" You nod softly, agreeing, "yes, I want to, only with you" he smiles as he gets on top of you, settling between your legs, kissing you gently, kissing down to your neck as you moan softly. Eddie looking at you, "did I make you do that?" You'd roll your eyes smiling "well yeah, it wasn't a ghost, was it?"

He'd smirk, doing it again, his hands wandering, shaky. He would be grasping your side gently moving your hips with his ever so slightly, holding your hand with the other, kissing you lovingly. Turing into a blissful makeout session, you kiss his neck, earning a groan from him grinding on you a bit every now and then. He pulls your shirt off, kissing you everywhere, taking his off as well. Both of you were looking at each other's bodies blushing. Eddie starts to undo his belt, fumbling with it a bit, cursing at himself. looking at you with glossy eyes, pulling them down a prominent bulge in his boxers. Your eyes would widen, struggling to pull down your pants but manage to get them off with Eddie's assistance, Eddie blushing looking at you, smirking as he reached down kissing you. Your hands roam around, exploring each other's bodies. Places that had never been touched, the feeling so new, so blissful. Both of you were kissing each other, getting lost in it, and pulling away, panting. He leans up, reaching over into the box and grabbing a rubber, biting his lip and looking at you "are you super positive? Have you done it before? I-i mean, I'm just wonder-" you'd giggle at his shyness and his stuttering.

"No, I haven't. You're my first boyfriend, too, dummy. What about you?" he'd look at you, not saying a word, not knowing if he should admit he was a virgin as well. "Uh.. Yeah, i guess you could say the same for me as well" you'd bite your lip laughing, not believing it "ah, stop pulling my tail, Munson!" biting his lip harder, looking at you, you knew he was being truthful as you take his hand in yours kissing it, the coolness of his rings on your cheek "well I guess we'll have our first together, and I promise I'm never going to leave, okay?" nodding agreeing with you, pulling down your panties agonizingly slow. He could've come right then and there seeing you like this under him, letting out a groan. "God, you're so fucking beautiful."

you would smile as you put your head back, letting out a moan. Eddie had plunged his middle finger into you, his cold rings hitting against your clit, gasping you'd grip the sheets, Eddie smirking as he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath on your neck, cooing into your ear. "Mhm.. You like that, don't ya?. Good girl," your eyes would widen, your back arching at his words smirking to himself. You begging for him, "please, Eddie, I need you." with that, he sat back, taking his finger out, pulling down his boxers, his cock hitting off his stomach. Your eyes widened looking at him, watching him roll the condom on, biting his lip, looking at you, he laid back on top of you, kissing your jawline "you sure?"

he would ask once again. You nod in response, "alright, love; we can stop any time you want, okay?" nodding softly, he plants a kiss on your lips as he sinks into you. moaning in unison, staying there for a few moments, he starts to rock into you, his hot breath on your neck, your legs quivering from the feel. Your hands were rubbing up and down his back, earning a groan from him, thrusting a bit faster. The sound of skin slapping off each other made his mind fuzzy. the beautiful sounds you and your pussy made.

His nails dig into your hip, squeezing his hand as you moan his name like a chant. Eddie let out a groan, trying to hold it back. You smirk and whisper into his ear, "you don't have to be quiet, you know" with that, he lets out a moan. The bed frame hits off the wall as he bites your bottom lip, thrusting deeper into you, making your eyes roll into your head, your back arching up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly, trusting back onto him as he smirks, tilting his hips, hitting off your sweet spongy part each time.

"Oh fuck, you feel so good," Your moans get louder, eddies hips snapping into yours. Rubbing circles fast on your clit. Completely submerged into you. Burying his face into your neck, "I love you So fucking much y/n, you mean so much to me darling "you would have tears in your eyes, Eddie wiping them away, kissing your head. "I love you y/n, oh fuck I'm close baby, I'm So close," you moan, kissing him, nodding, your hand digging into his shoulder, whining. Eddie seeing you were close. He would fuck you harder and faster, pushing you over the top to your orgasm.

letting out a loud moan, Eddie following right behind you, his breaths and thrusts uneven, holding your hand tightly, moaning your name and cussing a string of profanities. as he laid on top of you sweating, his hair stuck to his face smiling as he started laughing and kissing you. Pulling out, gently sitting on his heels, taking the condom off and tying it, looking at it "if I tie it.. Does it mean I'm smothering the kids?" you'd gasp, covering your mouth and letting out a wheeze "oh my fucking God you're right" he'd smile at you, he loved seeing you smile. Getting up, he went into the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up and himself off, laying down next to you. Pulling you close, snuggling into you, kissing your head. "Well, baby? Did you enjoy it?" you'd smile, looking up at Eddie, kissing him softly "it was amazing, darling, just a bit sore."

He would adjust himself looking worried, thinking he hurt you "did I hurt you?" you'd laugh, smiling, shaking your head "no, my hips just hurt a little. You didn't hurt me." smiling, he wraps his arms around you, humming songs to you running your back gently. You'd get sleepy as you dose off. A while later, you wake up to Eddie gone. You Get up panicking, looking around the trailer for him, no sign thinking he had left you there. You sit on the edge of the bed crying as Eddie comes walking out of the bathroom, rushing over to you, frowning sitting next to you, pulling you close, looking at you, concerned. "baby, what's wrong? What happened?" you'd wipe your tears, frowning. "I thought you left eds.. I got scared for a minute," he'd smile at you running his hand in your hair. "I was only using The bathroom! I promise I'm never going anywhere, darling, never."

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Taglist: @sorrowbridge @eddiemunsons-girl

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#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie x gn!reader #eddie munson masterlist #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Chapter 16 : Dinner With Family

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When Roman got back to the house what felt like hours later, he was exhausted. He hadn’t been called back, just like he expected, but he’d been waiting in the wings the whole time, walking around, talking to the other trainees. He had given support and encouragement when he could, but now all he really wanted to do was go to the Temple and cuddle Virgil for the rest of eternity. 

The house, he had to go to the house first. Taz would want to congratulate — and probably fuss over — him too, not to mention he needed to eat. Gosh, he was hungry. For the first time in years, Taz hadn’t quite forced enough food on him to get him through the day. 

And he was sure he could get a hug from Virgil at the house too. So house it was. 

When he arrived, Roman could see that the windows of the house were thrown wide open, and wafting from them was such a delicious smell that Roman embarrassingly picked up the pace at which he walked around the house to get to the door, which was also ajar. 

A little confused, he poked his head inside, only to sigh in relief when he saw both his mother and Virgil in the kitchen and also discovered the reason for all the open windows — it was extremely hot inside. His mother stood at the stove, cooking something that smelled absolutely wondrous — even more so now that he was inside — and Virgil was next to her, speaking quietly to her as she worked.

“Guess who’s back!” Roman announced, striding through the door after a moment’s consideration as to his grand entrance. Immediately his Ma and his partner dropped what they were doing to come over. Taz started gushing, congratulating him on how well he’d done and checking to make sure he wasn’t injured. Virgil hung back just a little, dutifully keeping an eye on whatever was bubbling away on the stove whilst she fussed. 

“Ma I’m fine,” Roman brushed her off with a chuckle, “And we don’t even know if I actually passed or not yet.”

“Don’t be silly, hon,” Taz said, scoffing, “A group of grumpy old veterans don’t get to look that impressed for you not to get a pass. Come on, sit down, I’m making quail! With potatoes and bread!”

“Is Virgil helping?” Roman asked, looking over at his partner, who was watching the pot intently enough that they didn’t notice Roman saying their name. 

“Heavens no,” Taz said, “I don’t want another fire in here, the one you caused yourself years ago was enough, he’s… I’m actually not sure what he’s doing.”

“Virgil?” Roman asked, taking a few steps towards the God and tapping his shoulder, “What’cha doing there?”

“Making sure it doesn’t get too hot,” Virgil whispered, not looking up.

“It’s simmering, sweetie,” Taz said with an exasperated sigh, “You don’t need to watch it the whole time.”

“But what if the fire gets too hot and it boils?” Virgil asked, looking up at them. 

“Virgil, I know how to cook potatoes,” She said, gently nudging him away from the stove “Take Roman and go sit at the table, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Virgil sighed, making Roman laugh. Taz had really warmed up to Virgil since the fiasco that was their first meeting and it really showed in the way that she almost treated them like a second son now. Roman was suddenly struck by the wave of guilt that always flooded him when he remembered that he still hadn’t told her about Remus. Soon, he told himself. Now wasn’t the time.

“We’ve been banished to the table, huh,” Roman laughed, plastering a smile on his face and taking the hand Virgil offered him and letting himself be gently tugged into the dining room, where the table was laid with the fancy silverware they only used when high ranking nobles passed through, which was so rare it practically never happened. 

“I suppose we have,” Virgil chuckled, pulling out a chair for Roman before sitting down themself and scooting their chair just a little closer to Roman’s so that he could press their legs together, “Are you okay?”

Oh, of course Virgil had noticed. 

“Yeah?” Roman said, smiling though he felt even more guilty a moment later about lying, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just — looked all sad for a moment,” Virgil said slowly, gesturing to him, “Are you sure?”

“Can we talk about it later?” Roman said, taking a deep breath. 

Virgil nodded, reaching for Roman’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly when he caught it, “Of course.”

A few minutes of slightly awkward silence later, Taz walked into the room carrying a platter housing a steaming bird — a whole bird. Roman groaned, worry forgotten. 

“Ma,” Roman sighed.

“What?” She asked, gasping in offence as she placed the giant cooked bird down on the table. 

“We’re three people, Ma,” Roman said, “Well — when it comes to food, Virgil might count for two, but ma, that quail could feed twelve. On its own.”

“Oh shush,” Taz said, waving him off, “It just means we’ll have leftovers.”

“We may as well invite the whole town in,” Roman said with an exasperated chuckle. 

“Hey,” She said, pointing a gloved hand at him, “Shush or you won’t get any of my blueberry pie later.”

Roman had never gone quiet about something so quickly in his life. Taz made a noise of approval before heading back to the kitchen, returning quickly with a plate of bread rolls, another of roasted potatoes and — from the trip after that — two plates worth of assorted vegetables and sides. Roman smiled at the sight, the amount of food was certainly enough to feed three families, but it smelled wonderful, and tasted brilliant once they began to dig in. 

The conversation flowed over dinner. Roman regaled the tale of the trails from his own perspective, Taz talked about the afternoon she’d spent with Virgil — apparently they’d gone to the shops around the square to get the ingredients for the dinner after Virgil had come to congratulate him.

“Taz showed me the bakery,” Virgil commented, “It was interesting.”

“I had to buy the bread,” Taz admitted, “I would’ve baked it myself, but I didn’t think of it, unfortunately, and I wanted it to be fresh…”

“That’s okay,” Roman smiled, “This is all amazing — I didn’t expect you to break out the silverware.”

Taz scoffed, “What else would we have used? This is a celebration! Honey, today you… you finally achieved something you’ve been working at your whole life, that deserves a little celebration, no?”

“Of course it does,” Roman laughed, “I just — I didn’t expect this.”

“You deserve it,” Virgil said quietly.

“Oh hell,” Roman says, leaning back in his chair, “If this is a celebration for me, Once we’ve eaten I just want to cuddle with Vi and fall asleep, I’m exhausted.”

“If that’s what you want, honey,” Taz laughed as she stood to clear the plates now that they had finished eating, “Wait for dessert though, will you?”

Roman rolled his eyes, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for anything, not even you, Virgil.”

“Understandable,” Virgil nodded solumbly.

“Will you two be heading to the Temple?” Taz asked, when she returned.

“Maybe,” Roman said, yawning.

“You know,” She said, “You are both welcome to stay here in the house, I won’t mind, and Roman’s bedroom is definitely big enough for you both.”

Roman went red, ducking his head and coughing awkwardly, “I would um, I would need to… tidy.”

Smiling, Virgil turned to him, “I don’t mind staying here, and… I don’t really mind a mess either.”

“No I mean—" Roman took a deep breath, before repeating adamantly, “I’d like to clear up a few things, if we stayed here.”

“Okay,” Virgil nodded, “Do you want to stay here?”

Yawning once again, Roman shrugged, “It would be easier, and— in all honesty, I can’t be bothered to walk to the Temple now.”

“Then you can both stay here,” Taz told them, setting down a steaming blueberry pie in the centre of the table. Roman hadn’t even noticed her leave, “Though if I may make one request, I’d like to keep the funny business to a minimum.”

“Ma,” Roman groaned, facepalming.

“Hey!” She raised her hands in surrender, though it didn’t look all that surrender-like as she held the pie slice in her hand, “what you two lovebirds do at that Temple is none of my business, but our walls are thin and I don’t want to hear it.”

“Understood,” Virgil chuckled, “I think Roman’s a little too tired anyway.”

“Damn right,” Roman mumbled, face flaming red

—-

“Give me just a moment,” Roman told Virgil as they approached the door at the top of the stairs to his attic bedroom. When Virgil nodded, Roman opened the door and slipped inside. Quickly gathering up the large bundle of fabric he had almost finished embroidering into his arms and shoving it unceremoniously into his closet and shutting the door — he didn’t want Virgil to see it until it was finished, though by now it almost was. That was really the only thing he had wanted to hide, but he did do a quick glance around to make sure before letting Virgil in. 

Quickly he strode over to his bed, flopping down and patting the spot next to him. Moments later he felt the mattress sink as Virgil sat down. 

“Can you untie my hair?” Roman mumbled into the pillow. Virgil laughed softly and moments later he felt hands working the pins that kept his bun in place carefully out of his har. 

“So,” Virgil said eventually, breaking the silence as the last pin was removed and the bun started to fall apart. Roman tensed a little, because that was the heavy-emotional-talk tone, “What got you upset earlier?”

Roman took a deep breath, peeling himself up from the pillow and sitting up so he could face Virgil properly. 

“I just… noticed how Ma treats you like— like she treats me,” Roman said, “Like you’re her second kid, and it just…”

“Does that bother you?” Virgil asked quietly.

“No,” Roman shook his head, “I think it’s sweet, and funny, I just… it reminded me of… Remus.”

Virgil frowned, shifting closer to him and opening their arms to offer a hug. Roman shuffled closer to press up against them. 

“I’ve been feeling really guilty,” Roman said, “Especially recently, about not telling her— because I know she would still love him, and she’d want to see him and it would make her so happy! But I just— every time I think of telling her she could see him again I clam up and convince myself it’s just not the right time—"

Virgil hummed, running steady fingers through Roman’s hair.

“Are you worried about how she’d react?” Virgil asked softly. 

“Yes,” Roman answered, “She passed out when she met you, and Remus… I love him, but he’s not exactly a six year old anymore, and also…”

“What is it?”

“I’m scared she’ll be upset at me for keeping it from her,” Roman whispered. 

Virgil pulled him closer, embracing him tightly.

“When she meets Remus,” Virgil said into Roman’s hair, “I think that she’ll be happy to be able to see her son again. And maybe she will be upset that you kept it from her, but I don’t blame you, and I don’t think she will either.”

“Really?” Roman asked, voice small.

“Really,” Virgil nodded.

“I should tell her,” Roman said, “I want to tell her.”

“Then we’ll tell her,” Virgil said, squeezing him again, “Maybe we could plan something?”

“That sounds good,” Roman mumbled, “But… I think we should do that in the morning, ‘m tired.”

Laughing, Virgil manoeuvred the pair of them so they could lie down properly on the bed, Virgil still holding Roman tight. Protectively wrapped around him with their hand in Roman’s and their breath tickling the back of his neck. Roman felt safe here — his back pressed into Virgil’s chest — and as his eyes drooped closed, so, so comfortable.

----

<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #ts prinxiety #prinxiety #rowans writings #Ribbons and Rainstorms #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

Never a Bad Time for a Hug

Here's another little ficlet inspired by the brilliant @haysgrove and this post.

"This is ridiculous," Logan scoffed and folded his arms over his chest as he sat at his desk chair with Roman and Virgil hovering over him.

"C'mon, Specs. You love taking people literally!" Roman goaded.

"Just because I frequently misunderstand idioms and turns of phrase, doesn't mean I actually enjoy doing so."

"It'd give you a chance at petty revenge for every time he's caught you making a dad joke or punning?" Virgil offered.

"That hardly seems worth the effort. Besides he'd never let me live down initiating a hug."

"Then think of it this way," Janus cut in from where he was leaned against the doorway. "Physical affection has been known to improve both physical and mental health, so showing physical affection to Patton, Thomas's Heart, can only have good benefits for Thomas as a Whole. Help him live a long healthy life and all those other things you're always going on about."

Logan sighed. "That does make some sense," he conceded.

"So you'll play?" Roman asked excitedly.

Logan looked to Virgil and held up a notecard. "Can I use 'bet' in this context?"

"Technically," he nodded. "It's more of a challenge thing though. Like, when Patton actually told us there was never a bad time for hug..." he gestured to Logan, who nodded in understanding.

"Lol. Bet," Logan replied flatly.

"Exactly. Or, another example, I've got this in the bag and you guys are goin' down!"

"Bet," Logan replied.

"Yeah, you got it," Virgil encouraged.

Janus nodded. "Think of it as a newer rendition of 'you wanna bet?' that Thomas used when he was younger, or also 'betcha can't'."

"Ah! Yes, I see. Does this also apply to the phrase 'you bet' when agreeing to do something for or with someone?"

"I mean, yeah," Virgil nodded. "That one isn't really the most common use, but it works. It's basically a term of agreement."

"Un-der-stood," Logan said each syllable as he wrote on another notecard. "Thank you, Virgil."

Virgil gave a two finger salute.

"Alright, are we done with the whole vocab lesson thing?" Roman asked impatiently. "Can I go win now?"

"No. Cause I'm gonna win," Virgil grinned mischievously and dropped through the floor to find Patton before Roman got to him first.

"Ha! We'll see about that!" Roman retorted and followed suite.

Logan remained where he was reviewing a small stack of notecards.

"Not going to join in the chase?" Janus asked.

"Hm?" Logan glanced up. He shook his head. "No, I'll be bidding my time. If I'm going to participate in these shenanigans, then I intend to get the most out of it I can. Which would include catching Patton off guard."

"That's devious of you, Logan," Janus commented, arching his scaled brow in surprise.

The Embodiment of Logic smiled. "Thank you."

Janus blinked. "I never thought I'd be alarmed by you, but here we are..." he shook his head. "Best of luck to you."

"To you as well. You'll need it."

---

"Uh. Virge, whatcha doin', kiddo?" Patton asked in confusion as the Embodiment of Anxiety seated himself on Patton's foot.

"Taking you up on your offer," Virgil explained, hugged Patton's leg. "Never a bad time a hug, right?"

"Uh. Well, I'm mean, yeah, but I'm not sure this actually qualifies as a hug though, hon."

"Sure it does. My arms are wrapped around you, right?"

"Well, that's true," Patton conceded. "You okay though? This isn't really how you usually ask for a hug."

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just takin' you up on your offer."

"Uh, o-okay," Patton nodded and picked up his glass of lemonade. "Well, I was gonna head into the living room-"

"Oh yeah, go ahead, don't mind me."

Patton waited a beat for Virgil to move. "Alright," he shrugged and stepped in that direction, moving the leg with Virgil attached to it with surprising ease.

---

"Good evening, Padre," Roman greeted as Patton stood over the stove diligently stirring in a pot of boiling spaghetti and snuggled his way under Patton's arm.

"Hey, munchkin," Patton smiled, if a bit puzzled. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," Roman replied leaning his head into Patton's shoulder. "Just taking you up on your kind and generous off- Ow!" He jumped back when Virgil, still sitting on Patton's foot, pinched his leg.

"Boys, behave," Patton said warningly.

"He started it!" Roman objected, pointing to the gremlin on the floor.

"Well, I'm ending it. Virgil?" He cast a stern look to the Embodiment of Anxiety.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry for pinching your leg even though you totally deserved it."

"Virgil..."

"I'm sorry for pinching your leg," he grumbled.

Patton turned an expectant look on Roman, who folded his arms petulantly.

"I accept your substandard apology."

"Close enough," Patton sighed. "Okay, Virgil, kiddo, I'm sure you're having fun hanging on my foot like that for whatever reason, but I need to strain the pasta and it's very heavy and I don't want to spill any hot water on you. Can I please have my foot back?"

---

Patton snuggled happily back against the couch, pulling the hood of his cat onesie over his head and settled in as the opening credits to The Rescuers started. He jumped in surprise as arms wrapped over his shoulders and a head rested against his, pushing his hood over his eyes.

"Who in the world?..." he reached over his head, trying to find whoever was hanging from his shoudlers. Whoever it was snickered and ducked out of the way of Patton’s swinging arms.

"Roman is that you again?"

"Not me, honey-bee," Roman answered. "I have your cocoa though."

Patton managed to push his hood up enough to see Virgil perched on the arm of the couch and gave him a puzzled look. Virgil helpfully held up both hands and shrugged.

Patton tried to spin around to catch his captor off guard. He managed to throw them both off balance and whoever had a hold of him tumbled to the floor with a surprised curse and a laugh. Patton sat up and glanced around, but whoever had a hold for him seemed to have sunk from the room.

---

"Good morning!" Patton greeted cheerily as Janus slunk into the kitchen.

"Morning," Janus replied with a slight shiver. He stood behind Patton and wrapped his all six arms around the other's chest, effectively pinning Patton's arms to his sides. He hummed contentedly. "You're warm."

"Um. I also can't really move. And I'm trying to get coffee started before everyone else is up. So?..."

Janus harrumphed and shifted so Patton could have use of his arms again and nestled his forehead against the back of Patton's neck.

The Embodiment of Emotions started. "You're freezing! Janus-"

"My heated blanket short circuited and I can't find Remus," he complained.

"You poor thing," Patton tutted and managed to turn in Janus's arms, and ran a hand up and down his spine. "What happened to your blanket?"

"It's old. Happens. Remus can fix it." He shivered again and tried to nuzzle closer still.

"Why don't you go sit on the couch with a blanket and I'll be there in just a second with some coffee to warm you up."

Janus peeled himself away from Patton and trudged to the couch. He curled up in a ball, pulling the blanket over his head. He was almost asleep again from the cold when a gentle hand rested on his back.

"Sit up for me, sweetheart," Patton encouraged. He held out a thermos when Janus managed to get himself upright. Janus took the warm metal and hugged it to his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured as Patton slipped on the couch behind him and wrapped them both in the blanket, trying to keep in some of the warmth. It wasn't the inconveniencing hug he'd planned for the morning, but it would have to do.

---

Patton wrapped his arms over his stomach and groaned. So maybe that bowl of ice cream was a bad idea after all... It wasn't fair. Logan could eat ice cream with no ill effects. In fact, so far as he knew only he and Roman had bad reactions to ice cream. His pout turned to a grimace as his stomach gurgled again, and let out an icky sounding flatulence.

Without warning the door swung inward with a sudden Bang! as it hit the wall. Patton cried out in surprise, nearly falling from the toilet as he did so.

Remus wordlessly pranced over to him and gently wrapped his arms over his shoulders, resting his cheek on Patton's head, and hummed happily, apparently unbothered by the awful stench in the room.

Patton sat there frozen and awkward till Remus finally stood again and left a kiss on the top of his head and patted his back, then pranced out of the room again, slamming the door behind him, causing Patton to jump again.

---

"Okay," Patton started as he stood before his fellow Sides who were seated on the couch in front of him. "I will admit that the increase in hugs has been nice. That said, I will also admit that I...misspoke before when I said there was never an inappropriate time for a hug. When someone is sitting on the toilet is definitely a bad time for a hug."

Remus snorted and stiffled a giggle behind his hand, drawing a scowled from Roman who swatted the backside of his head.

Patton gave both twins a warn look. "While I appreciate the sentiment because I was not feeling very good, and I still stand by not needing to ask for a hug every time, I would like to establish asking for hugs in the bathroom and knocking. Knocking is a good thing to do, looking for a hug or not. Okay?"

Virgil raised a hand. "So all other hugs are still free game?"

Patton brow pinched in suspicion. "And when I'm cooking. Ask when I'm cooking. Just in case you don't know I have a knife or something and I don't want anyone getting hurt. So ask before when I or someone else is cooking and in the bathroom, a quick hug while brushing teething is okay, hug on the toilet...less okay. And knock. Knocking is always good to do. Okay? But yes, for the most part, I'm okay with not asking before needing a hug. Deal?"

Logan held up an index card between his first and middle finger. "Alright, bet," he replied with a small smirk. Without further warning, he tackled Patton to the floor, taking care that his head didn't hit the floor.

Patton yelped in surprise as he and Logan went tumbling to the floor, before either had time to recover the others jumped forward piling on one another, in a heap of laughter and limbs.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #virigl sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #my writing

[korruptbrekker]

Anaroceit Week Day 2: Truth

[Previous] — Day 2 — [Next] — [Masterpost] — [AO3]

Rated T — Content Warnings: Minor Angst

Word Count: 691

@anaroceitweek

Roman has a misunderstanding with Virgil and Janus helps to clear things up.

One of the things Roman learned after he started spending more time around Janus and Virgil was that being in the presence of the personification of Deceit meant a lot of lies.

But, more importantly, it meant finding truth in unexpected places.

Virgil had warned him early on that Janus's mere presence was enough to coax even the most truthful into lying, and Roman had taken that into account and brushed off the little whispers in the back of his mind when he was around his serpent sweetheart.

But actually seeing the effects was something Roman could have never prepared for. Virgil and Janus were cuddling together on the common room couch, all the other Sides off on their own various adventures. Patton and Logan were having a chat with Thomas, and Remus was off frolicking in the Daydreamscape.

Roman, excited to watch a movie with his not-yet-boyfriends, walked into the room only to see them pressed against each other, Virgil exhausted and slumped against Janus's side, knuckles white where they gripped Janus's capelet.

Janus, in this moment the more observant of the two, smiled at Roman before turning to Virgil.

“Roman's here, spiderling,” he muttered, a hand rubbing circles into his boyfriend's back, “would you like him to stay?”

“You really think I'd let him stick around?” Virgil's voice was exhausted and dulled, but the words still cut effortlessly through Roman's chest.

The air stood still, and Roman swore he heard something cracked. And so, naturally, he did what he always did when someone hurt him. He hurt them back.

“Well I'm sorry that you can't handle me. It's all your loss, really.” He forced, willing the tears building in his eyes not to fall. “Good riddance, I don't need a crybaby for a boyfriend anyways.” He turned on his heel to run, but a hand caught his shoulder.

“Roman, wait.” Janus commanded, calm and cool as ever.

“What, you too snake?” He sneered. “Want to get one last hit in before a right and proper K.O.?” He felt the extra hand on his shoulder flinch.

“Remember what Vee told you about me? About being Deceit?” Janus's voice shook and Roman winced.

“That you make people lie?”

“Not exactly.” The hand slipped from his shoulder. “Take a seat my love.” Roman didn't turn around. “Please, just listen.” With a breath Roman nodded and allowed Janus to guide him onto the couch on Janus's other side.

“I'm Deception. And as you know, for myself lying and telling the truth is a matter of control.” Roman nodded and Janus continued. “It's the same for others as well. Don't you notice how you're more inclined to lie around me?”

Roman nodded again, stomach sinking when he realized where this was going.

“Well, sometimes, when you're tired,” he nudged Virgil gently and the lump hummed, “that control goes away. And so you lie. Right, Virge?”

“Not a bit.” He mumbled with a nod.

“Precisely.” Janus pat his shoulder with a gentle. “Do you understand a little more, Roman? I asked Virgil if he wanted you to stay, and seeing as it was a no, it meant yes.” Roman's mouth twisted. The tears returned for an entirely new reason.

“Speak what's on your mind, dear.” Janus coaxed.

“I'm so sorry, shadowling. I didn't realize—”

“I'll never forgive you.” Virgil interrupted. “I'm fine, but, well, it's not like I understand.”

“That's confusing.” Roman admitted, after a long pause. “But I think I get it, and I'm so very, very sorry. To both of you.”

Janus hummed. “Yes it is confusing, but you'll pick up on it soon enough. And we'll be sure to have a proper conversation when we're all right of mind.” He tapped the side of Virgil's head gently.

Virgil nodded, making grabby hands at Roman. “Now go away you big lump.”

Roman awkwardly laughed, still still and wracking with guilt, but he settled next to Virgil anyway and got a kiss on the cheek and a proper squeeze in confirmation that Virgil still loved him.

It would take a moment, and a lot of conversations, but maybe Roman could get used to this.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #roman sanders #ts roman #janus sanders #ts janus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #anaroceit #anaroceitweek2022 #kbwrites

[whorekneecentral]

i am hereby sending in a virgil van dijk request....

reader being a little brat: she insists on coming to fb practice with him which obviously takes hours and all she does is tease him from where she's sitting (on the bleachers of whatever idk). and obviously that shit kinda pisses him off ya know so when the two of them get home he like throws her over his shoulder (my man is hUGE OKAY and i live for a size kink hehe) and shows her her place 😫😫

feel like that's a very detailed request so sorry if it's too much. im sure whatever u write will be wonderful as always xoxo

- ney anon

I'm kissing you rn -- also even better if you're flirting (jokingly of course) with one of his teammates

"Oh come on," you grabbed your husband's hand, pulling his attention from his phone to you. "Let me come with you," you stood in front of him while he sat on the couch. "I promise I'll be good."

Virgil laughs, giving you a tug and pulling you closer to him. He lets go of your hand, his hand coming up to pinch your chin softly. "You've never good."

You fake a gasp, hand on your chest. "Soooo not true, your standards are just too high."

"Yeah okay," he smiles, "go on then, I'm leaving 10 and I'm not waiting."

You bite the inside of your cheek, knowing you've won for now. You give him a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bedroom to get dressed. Virgil had his work cut out for him; you never joined him unless you were up to something.

He shouts for you from the bottom of the staircase, telling you he was leaving and you come down a moment later, your little black leggings and his shirt hanging off your shoulders. The two head out for the day and the moment you arrive, you're welcomed by the guys and they all want to show you around because Virgil never brings you around unless they're having a home game.

Virgil, of course, lets you go off with whoever you pleased, telling you he'll see you during practice. You and Ox end up walking around for a bit, he made you laugh so hard your stomach was hurting.

Eventually, he had to join the guys for practice and you sat on the bleachers, watching as they ran through the first couple of drills. Virgil smiles at you when he sees you and you blow him a kiss.

You were there for a while, your attention on your phone before you feel someone nudge your knee. You look up and see Trent sitting in front of you, turned to face you.

"Hey," you smile. "Boring isn't it?" He asks and you shrug, "I don't mind it, you guys are good."

"Still boring," he says and makes you laugh. Your smile isn't something your husband missed. His eyes fixed on you and Trent, his teammate's hand touching your leg, friendly of course, you and Trent were nothing more than friends but Virgil didn't see it that way.

"Trent!" He shouts from the field, "we're practicing, not chatting. Sub in for me." He tells him, walking over to you two. Trent gives Virgil a look but gets up nonetheless, he says bye to you and walks off before Virgil gets over there.

Your husband grabs your hand, pulling you up and you follow him down to the tunnel. He picks you up, letting you hang over his shoulders and you were confused.

"Virg! Put me down!" You smack his back but he doesn't, instead he keeps walking until he gets to the locker room which was empty aside from the two of you.

Finally the man puts you down and you look at him. "What the hell was that?"

Virgil holds your jaw between his thumb and index finger, "you're mine."

It clicks why he's dragged you off, "oh." You giggled, "are you jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?"

"Why would you drag me off?"

He rolls his eyes, pulling you against him. He leans down and kisses you, eventually the two of you shift around until he's sitting down and you're on his lap, straddling him.

"How much time do we have before practice is over?" You ask, kissing down his neck. Virgil pulls you back a bit, "we're not fucking in the locker room."

You roll your eyes, "you're so boring, maybe I'll ask Trent." You get off his lap and he grabs your hand and pulls you back, "hurry up then.

He's got you on his lap again, your leggings tossed on the floor, his shorts pulled down just enough and your hands on his shoulders, balancing yourself as you sink down onto him.

"God," you sigh, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

"Not exactly." He smiles, pulling you up for a kiss.

#virgil van dijk #virgil van dijk smut #ney anon :)

[cg29fics]

Gone

Had issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters.

Tagging: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @thundergeek59 @misstb2

Previous. Chapter 34: Reassurance and Retribution.

Chapter 35. 45 Minutes.

Previously:

Virgil slowly opened his eyes and looked at the woman. “Hi.” He muttered.

“Hello, Virgil,” she greeted. “You have a visitor.”

“Family back?” He questioned.

“No, It’s not family Virgil. Thankfully, they have all headed back to the hotel,” she responded.

Virgil looked at the woman with confusion. “Who?” He yawned.

“Oh, it’s just me Virgil… To be honest I’ve really missed seeing you… Have you missed me?”

Virgil’s eyes widened in horror when they fell on the Hood.

… …

45 Minutes Earlier:

Scott sat on the floor with his brothers and father. They had arrived back at their large hotel suite less than 30 minutes ago and as none of them had eaten much that day, their father had ordered some food, which they were all now, apart from their grandma, who had retired for the evening, tucking into. Scott picked up another slice of pizza and gazed at it for several minutes.

“Err bro, are you going to eat that?” Alan asked eagerly. Scott handed the slice over to his brother. “Thanks Scott.” Alan mumbled with his mouth half full of food.

Scott half-smiled and then quietly folded his arms tightly against his chest.

“Okay Scott, what’s wrong?” Jeff questioned, already knowing what the answer would be.

Scott looked at his father and sighed. “We should have stayed. I hate the thought of Virg being there alone!”

“There’s nothing we could have done tonight.” Gordon responded.

Scott let out another heavy sigh. “What if he wakes? Those nightmares are awful!”

“You heard what the Nurse and Doctor said… He’ll be asleep throughout the rest of the night.” Alan added.

“But what if the Hood tries to attack him again?” Scott warned.

“Do you really think he would?” Alan stammered.

“There’s nothing stopping him!” Scott informed them.

Jeff looked at Scott with concern. “Scott, I know today’s been long and hard, and to be honest… I didn’t want to leave the hospital either, but the Nurse and Doctor were right… We need to get some rest!”

“I know, it’s just…” Scott’s voice trailed off.

“You have a feeling?” John cut in.

Scott gazed at John. “Yes, I do! Go on, tell me I’m being a Smother Hen again!”

John shook his head. “Not this time! I made that mistake earlier and your intuition was spot on… If you think we should be at the hospital, then I’m ready to head back with you right now!”

… …

45 minutes Later:

Virgil instinctively made a grab for the call button, only for his wrist to be seized by the woman in the room. He then tried to scream for help, only to have the Hood shove a gag in his mouth.

“Oh, I am disappointed Virgil, have you not missed me?” The Hood sneered. Virgil stared up at the Hood, desperately trying to hide his fear. “Now, you can try and hide how scared you are.” The Hood scoffed. “But with this woman’s help I’ve been watching you this entire time! I’ve seen how much I’ve hurt you and the pain that you’ve been in.” The Hood let out a scornful laugh. “And I’ve seen how distressed you’ve really been!” The Hood continued. “Okay Virgil, we have a lot of things to talk about and I really want you to be able to answer me… Which means I need to remove this gag… And I need you to remain nice and quiet for me… Okay?”

… …

Half-an-Hour Earlier:

Jeff, Gordon and Alan had listened carefully to Scott’s fears. After John had backed him up they all eventually agreed, not that they needed much convincing, that they would return to the hospital. Jeff had informed his mother and after a little grumbling that he really needed to rest, she finally acknowledged that, she too had her misgivings about leaving her grandson, and they would all probably get more rest if they were at the hospital with him.

… …

Half-an-Hour Later:

The Hood signalled for the woman to remove the gag, as soon as she did, Virgil tried to shout for help once more but was immediately stopped by the woman covering his mouth with her other hand. Virgil bit sharply into the woman's hand.

“He bit me!” She yelped.

“Why are you doing this?” Virgil demanded, looking at the woman in disgust.

“Why does there have to be a reason?” She scoffed, moving away from the bed, as she clutched her bleeding hand in pain.

“You’re meant to help people!”

“I do!” She retorted. “I help people like Balah Gaat here, get the revenge he deserves against people like you!”

Virgil stared at her in disbelief.

“Now Virgil, I’m sure you have many questions.” The Hood interjected. “And I may or may not let you ask them, but for the moment I want you to be quiet and listen to me. If you don’t then well, let’s just say, if I can get to you this easily, then think how easy it would be to get to one of your brothers!” He cautioned. “So, all I need you to do Virgil, is to be nice and quiet!” The Hood leaned in close to Virgil’s face. “Can you do that for me?”

Virgil glared at the Hood, deciding right then to not listen to the warning he had been given. He would find a way to fight back, no matter how much physical pain he was currently in, he was not going to give the Hood the privilege of seeing him lie down and take whatever punishment he had in store. He was a Tracy dammit… And Tracy’s never, ever quit!

… …

15 minutes earlier:

Jeff climbed out of the taxi that had brought him and his family back to the hospital, he paid the driver, making sure to tip him well for getting them all back there quickly, and then made his way back into the hospital with his boys and mother by his side.

As they all made their way inside the main entrance, Doctor Gerry Sylvia, who had just been about to leave for the night, had seen them enter. “Hello there. I thought you would have all been in Virgil’s room?”

Jeff smiled at the kind Doctor. “Well, we were initially convinced by Nurse Andrews and Doctor Sanderson to head back to our hotel for the night.”

Gerry grinned. “Don’t tell me… You got back and realised you couldn’t rest unless you were here with him!”

Jeff nodded. “How did you guess?”

“I’m a father myself, and I’d be the same if I was in your position,” Doctor Sylvia admitted. “I wonder why the Nurse and Doctor advised you to head back? I know some hospitals have rules stating families can’t stay overnight but our doesn’t.”

“Oh, they were just worried about us not getting any proper rest!” Ruth Tracy stated.

Scott noticed the concerned glint in the Doctors eyes, as he began to walk alongside them. “Everything alright doc, I thought you were heading out, not back in?”

“I was,” Doctor Sylvia confirmed. “But it won’t hurt for me to check in on your brother!”

“Oh, there’s probably no need,” Jeff remarked.

“It’s okay,” he smiled, continuing to walk with them towards Virgil’s room, “it’s my job!”

… …

15 Minutes Later:

“So, all I need you to do Virgil, is to be nice and quiet!” The Hood leaned in close to Virgil’s face. “Can you do that for me?”

Virgil spat in the Hood’s face and then with his left hand, he brought his fist straight into the Hood’s throat. “Does that answer your question?” Virgil snapped back.

The Hood clutched his throat, spluttering from the shock of the punch. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Oh God!” The woman said cutting him off.

“What is it?” the Hood coughed.

The woman was standing by the door peaking outside. “The Tracy’s are back.”

Virgil’s eyes widened at hearing this news. “Help!” He tried to yell, only to be stopped by the Hood shoving the gag back in his mouth and holding him firmly down.

… …

Meanwhile:

Making their way towards Virgil’s room Doctor Sylvia smiled at the two security guards who were sitting outside of Virgil’s room. “Hi” He said. The Two security guards looked towards them, stood up, and then stormed towards them, pushing them further away from Virgil’s room.

… …

“What’s going on?” The Hood demanded.

The two security guards have pushed them back down the corridor.” She then swore under her breath. “Doctor Sylvia is with them!” She faced the Hood. “You need to act now, otherwise, you won’t get an opportunity again.”

“And where are you going?” He demanded, when she started to open the door wider.

“The security guards have them distracted. If I don’t go now, I’ll be caught and…”

“Go then.” He barked, cutting her off. “I have a job to do… And this time I plan on finishing it!”

The woman nodded, peaked out of the room and when she was sure she would not be spotted, she slipped out and made her way in the opposite direction.

The Hood glared at the woman as she made her way out of the room and closed the door behind her. He then pulled the small box out of his pocket and scowled at Virgil. “I really wanted us to talk first, I really wanted to ask you how those dreams had been? Virgil tried to hit out but was still being held down by the Hood. “You really need to learn to control your anger!” The Hood scoffed, opening the box with his free hand and taking his prized drug out. “Now, you’ve had the pleasure of experiencing this drug before.” The Hood stated. “Rynax… I’m sure you remember its sedative effects and the fact that the Doctors here wouldn’t give you certain medications while it remained in your body… You see, there was a reason for that… The effects this drug can have on your system, if you are on anything else… Well, most people would find them devastating. Myself, on the other hand, well I find it quite interesting.”

… …

“Let us past!” Gordon demanded, as the security guards continued to hold them back.

“We can’t,” they both stated.

“Why not?” Jeff snapped. “My son is in that room!”

“We are just following orders sir,” the one security guy confirmed.

“Whose orders?” Doctor Sylvia questioned.

“Doctor Reed.” The other security guy confirmed.

“Who?” Doctor Sylvia queried. “There’s no Doctor Reed working at this hospital!”

“The Hood!” Scott scowled, instantly throwing a punch and knocking the one security guard out cold.

“Hey!” The other security guard shouted, grabbing Scott around the waist.

John stepped forwards and threw his fist into the man’s face, causing him to fall unconscious to the floor.

Scott picked himself up and looked at his brothers and father. “Virg!” He stuttered, spinning around and running towards his brother’s room.

… …

The Hood prepared the Rynax and started injecting it into Virgil’s IV. “Sleep tight Virgil Tracy.” He laughed. The Hood glanced up at the door as it swung open, revealing Scott Tracy. “I think you will find that you’re too late!” The Hood mocked.

Scott ran to Virgil’s bedside, while the Hood let out a scornful laugh and ran towards the door, only to be instantly stopped by the fist of Jeff Tracy knocking him out cold!

Doctor Gerry Sylvia ran into the room and looked at Scott who was staring at Virgil. “What’s he done?”

Scott turned to him. “He’s injected him with something.” Tears began running down Scott’s face. “Doc… Please… Please, you’ve… You’ve got to do something… He’s… He’s stopped breathing!” He finally stated.

Next… 36. Arrested

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #cg29fics #thunderbirds original series #thunderbirds are go #tagficgone #whump #thunderwhump

[katblu42]

Superglue

(Yeah, totally NOT inspired by my boss sticking toilet paper to his fingers with superglue at work today and deciding the best way to get it off was sandpaper!)

I wanted to do more with this - but I also didn't want it to be a long exercise and it's now 1:30am! So have a little Virgil and Alan.

***

“Virgil?” The voice that came through on his comm sounded pitifully small, uncertain and pleading.

“Alan.  Are you okay?”

“I . . . um, I just need a hand with something?”  It was meant as a statement, but it came out as a question.  A plea.

Virgil sighed.  He’d only just returned from the last rescue and barely had a moment to take a load off tired feet, but there was no way he could ignore what his littlest brother was not saying.  Or who he wasn’t saying it to.

“Where?”

“My room.  You’ll have to override the lock.”

That rang alarm bells.  Why couldn’t Alan unlock his own door?  It wasn’t often that any of his brothers locked their doors in the first place.  Confusion and concern battled for ascendency in Virgil’s mind as he hurried up to Alan’s room, but curiosity won over both.

He didn’t knock, just keyed his code in barrelled through the open door to find Alan sitting at his desk, elbow propped on its surface so his head could rest in one hand.  The other hand seemed to be holding something that resembled Gordon’s octopus lamp.  There were a few small pieces of blue glazed ceramic and glass in front of his youngest brother, and a tell-tale tube lying capless and abandoned.

Alan turned his head at the sound of Virgil’s entry to the room and managed to look up at his big brother with an expression that made him seem ten years younger.  Irresistible baby blues trying to convey innocence but betraying so much guilt and remorse.

“Hey, Virge.”

Virgil skipped the greeting, taking in the exact position of Alan’s right hand in relation to the largest section of lamp base and the fact that neither said hand nor large lump of blue ceramic had budged an inch when the kid had turned his body more towards the door.

“How bad and how long?” Virgil asked as he approached the carnage.  He tried to keep his voice steady, quiet and free of accusation or vexation.

It was Alan’s turn to let out a sigh.  “Three of my fingers are stuck to the head of octopus, and one of the tentacles is stuck to the desk.  I tried to pull my hand free, but it felt like it was gonna rip skin off.  It’s been nearly five minutes.”

As Alan spoke his gaze drifted almost anywhere but Virgil’s eyes, his shoulders slumped as though he was trying to collapse in on himself and the tone of his voice was lacking its usual brightness.

Virgil refrained from asking any questions about the damaged lamp, or the discarded gloves he spied in the trash, not to mention the little bits of latex stuck between two badly joined pieces of ceramic.  Instead, he placed a gentle hand on a slender shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze.

“Is this the only glue you used?” he asked, using a scrap of cloth to carefully pick up the tube so he could read the label.  His little brother nodded forlornly.  “I’ll go get the solvent. Then we will work out how to fix Gordon’s lamp.”

“You mean, you’ll help me?”  Wide blue eyes finally looked up into the gentle depths of mahogany sparkling in the low light.

“Of course I’ll help you.” Virgil was pleased to see the hint of a smile and a distinct lift in Alan’s posture.  “But we’re not going to try and hide the fact that it’s been broken.”

Before Alan’s new-found relief could all disappear again Virgil called up something on the holoprojector for Alan to look at, then turned towards the door.

“Kintsugi?”

“Just read it.”  Virgil stopped and turned back.  “We’re not necessarily going to use these exact techniques or materials, but we will use the philosophy.  Now let me go and get the solvent before you become a permanent attachment to that lamp!”

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #alan tracy

[kieraelieson]

In which Virgil has taken lessons on how to demand affection: Part Three, Patton.

Virgil Roman Remus Logan Janus

Patton was nearly heartbroken. He’d given Virgil ‘lessons’ on how to ask for affection, trying to help him get over his anxiety a little. And he’d thought that it was just anxiety that he was helping.

But then when Virgil had finally tried it out with him he’d looked so worried, like if Patton had said no he might cry. And then Roman, bright, lively, Roman, had asked and he’d looked like he also was bracing for Patton to say no.

Two of his kiddos had been scared to ask for affection.

That could Not be allowed to keep going. He would give them All the affection they could want, and freely too!

— — —

Virgil was sitting on a beanbag doing something on his phone.

“Hi, Virge!” Patton said cheerfully, and too loudly, judging by Virgil’s jump.

“… hi.” Virgil said, setting down his phone. “I didn’t forget something we’re supposed to do, did I?”

“No, I just wanted to offer you a hug!”

Virgil’s face softened, the confusion fading. “Sure.” He held out his arms and Patton leaned down to give him a big hug.

— — —

Roman was carefully painting something, using his tiny paintbrush, so Patton knew he’d have to be careful not to startle him.

“Hey, Ro,” he said quietly.

Roman’s head did a movement, but his eyes didn’t leave the paper until he’d finished the stroke and set his paintbrush down.

He grinned at Patton. “What’s up, Popstar?”

“I wanted to offer hugs!” Patton said, holding his arms wide.

Roman’s smile got all bright, and he practically swooped Patton up in the hug, spinning them both around.

— — —

Patton knocked on Logan’s door.

“Come in,” Logan said, his voice muffled.

Patton opened the door, noting that Logan must be in a good mood today, cause the lights were all the way on. If he was stressed, he’d work with just a lamp and his star stickers for light.

“I’m giving everybody hugs!” Patton said cheerfully.

Logan nodded, considering for a moment before he stood up and let Patton hug him. Now that he thought about it, it was pretty rarely that he hugged Logan. He really needed to show off his affection for them all more often!

“Is this a continuation of the trend of asking for affection?” Logan asked.

“I guess so,” Patton said, wondering if it really was a trend, and how far it would go.

— — —

“Are you here for hugs too?” Remus asked. “You guys are all coming down out of nowhere for hugs.”

Patton shrugged and chuckled awkwardly. “Guess so.”

Remus promptly tackled him in a tight hug. Patton hugged back. He was surprised that he actually… liked it.

— — —

“You know, you’ve broken the trend,” Janus said smoothly, before Patton had a chance to say anything.

“I… what?”

Janus’s eyes seemed to trap Patton’s gaze where he couldn’t look away. “They’ve been asking for affection, whereas you’ve offered it. Surely you need some yourself.”

“Oh… no, I’m really good, I get plenty just from giving it to all of you guys, I—“ Patton’s words cut off as Janus set a finger over his mouth.

“You are just as in need of affection directed towards you as anyone else.”

It was a very long moment before Patton conceded with a small nod.

“You appreciate hugs?” Janus asked, just to confirm, as he wrapped Patton up gently in too many arms.

Patton nodded into his shoulder, a nice feeling growing in his chest, but somehow one that made him almost want to cry.

Janus pressed a kiss to his temple, and a tear slipped down Patton’s cheek.

— — —

“Hey Thomas,” Patton said, feeling more like a kid than a dad. “Can I sit with you?”

Thomas nodded immediately, looking worried. “Is anything wrong?”

Patton sat down next to him and leaned against him. “I’m just having a sad day.”

Thomas wrapped Patton up in a hug. “I’m glad you came to me. Sad days are good for sitting and cuddling.”

Patton nodded, relaxing into his arms. “Thank you.”

#my own work #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #Virgil sanders #Roman sanders #Remus sanders #Janus sanders #character!thomas

[starshard17]

“You’re burning up.”+prinxiety >:3?

Oh Crow you know me so well 😌

--

Roman let out a shaky breath. He pressed his hands to the counter in front of him and he reached his arm up, wiping little beads of sweat from his brow. There was a gross thick texture riding in the back of his throat and his body literally felt as if it was melting.

Virgil stepped into the kitchen, phone in hand. His eyes glanced up when he noticed another figure in the room. He pocketed his phone and stepped closer. Neither of them were quick to greet the other, what with Virgil usually waiting to be talked to and Roman not feeling like his usual glittery self.

Virgil cleared his throat, muttering a quiet "Hello." Roman turned to Virgil and he put on the strongest smile he could manage.

"Hey Stormy Night." Roman stuttered, his eyes screaming to just close and be put to sleep. Virgil cocked his head to the side, looking at Roman skeptically.

"Something wrong Virge?" Roman asked, watching the anxious side as his face twisted in confusion. He then watched as he reached a hand up towards him, cupping his face.

"Dude. You're burning up." Virgil said, touching his hand to Roman's forehead.

"Oh... yeah I think that checks out. I feel like I'm literally melting right now." Roman mumbled. Virgil shook his head.

"You should probably get back to bed. These are like, the basic signs that you're getting sick. And the best solution is getting some rest." Roman opened his mouth to argue, but Virgil silenced him with a finger pressed to his lips.

"I don't want to hear it. To bed with you."

Roman sighed and slumped his shoulders. Well, as much as he didn't want to go to bed it's not like he had the energy to do anything else. In fact, he didn't even quite feel like he could move his feet another step.

"Only if you carry me." Roman prompted, waiting silently. Virgil just shrugged and sighed, hooking his arm around Roman's lower leg and swooping him into his arms.

"If it'll get you to sleep then why the hell not." Virgil spoke with a small grumble. He made his way towards Roman's bedroom.

As they walked Roman wondered. What all could he get Virgil to do for him? Just to take care of him? Maybe he could convince him to cuddle. That would be the best.

Taglist : @nalidice

#moonblade writing #sanders sides #ts roman #ts virgil

[alex-demon-wolf]

“Let me take care of you. Please.” with any sides of your choosing :D!

Sick Day

Virgil groaned as he got up, feeling like he was being pulled down more, his head feeling fuzzy as he struggled to breath through his nose, "No.. Why today?.." He groaned as he went to the bathroom. He was supposed to go out with his boyfriends today, why did his body hate him? "Fuck it, I'm seeing them.." He sighed as he got ready

The three smiled seeing their tall boyfriend, Patton immediately hugging him, "Virge! You made it!"

"You didn't send a text when you left your place Kitten, we were worried," Logan explain seeing Virgil's confused expression

"What's with the mask JDelightful?" Roman questioned, gesturing to the cat decorated face mask Virgil had put on

"Oh, I just wanted to wear it," Virgil lied, keeping down a cough, hoping he didn't sound too bad

"You're sure? You don't sound like you normally do," Logan questioned, Patton worriedly letting go of Virgil

"How about we just get into the fair, yeah?" Virgil asked as he started to head in, the three following.

The next two hours were full of the trio worrying as their lamp post boyfriend who was much more sluggish than usual, and even nearly fell asleep at one point while they waited in line, "Ok that's it," Roman said finally, as the three sat Virgil down at a picnic table off to the side, "What's going on with you today Virge?"

"Nothing's wro-" He coughed, immediately hiding his face in his elbow as he sounded like he was hacking up a lung

"Sugar Cube, let us take care of you.. please.." Patton said, Virgil feeling worse when the puppy dog eyes came out

"..Fine.." He sighed a little, "I'm sick, but I didn't want to ruin the day for you guys, do I tried to play it off," He explained, looking down at his feet

"Oh Sunshine," Roman softly said, making him look at him, "You being sick doesn't ruin anyrhing, let's get you home,"

Virgil tried to convince them to stay, but was dragged back to his apartment, fuzzy brain not really remembering when Logan left them, but he wasn't there anymore as the other two sat him on the couch, got him comfy, and gave him his favorite squishmallow, a cute bat that had a pattern like his hoodie. The two sat on the couch with him, getting Gravity Falls put on for him, Virgil looking at the door when he heard it open to see Logan with bags

"I got some snacks," He said casually, bringing it all over, Virgil smiling at all of this. Logan sat on the couch as they passed around the stuff, before focusing on the show. Virgil slowly let himself start to doze off, face hidden in the soft plush of his squish

He opened his eyes, looking around when he noticed it was darker. He smiled a bit seeing his partners laying in bed with him, all of them tangled up. He snuggled into them as he shut his eyes again

Today was a pretty good sick day

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #alex writes