Jacksepticeye Hoodie นิยาย & เรื่องราว

A man in a black hoodie and jeans. Weird choice for a rooftop pool, buddy. Before I can react, a strong hand shoves me, guiding me—no, forcing me—toward a secluded corner. My heart slams into my ribs. "What the hell, man? You could’ve—" But the words die in my throat. Because the guy in the hoodie yanks down his cap. Pulls off his bandana. Revealing dark eyes. Dark hair. And a grin. "Surprise, surprise.”

A familiar cartoon pattern stretched across the material, slightly torn at the edges. “Boss,” he called, his voice grim. “We got something.” One of the agents stepped forward, holding a small blue race car in his gloved hand. “This is his, right?” Then I saw it. Kai’s hoodie—his favourite one, the navy blue one with the small rip near the sleeve. It lay discarded near a rusted metal chair, the sight of it made my stomach twist painfully. “Oh my God,” I breathed, covering my mouth with trembling hands.

“I’ll make sure to treat it with respect.” Curious, I inspected the hoodie as I went to the bathroom to put it on. It had a symbol of a shield and sword in the center, with the initials ‘LRA’ stitched in red underneath. I pulled the oversized hoodie over my head. It was way too big, but it felt nice, and it still smelled a bit like Nate. He always smelled good. When I walked out again, Nate was already sitting on his bed with a laptop on his lap. “And?” I called out, spreading my arms. “How do I look?”

His grip on the strap of his violin case tightens. I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the possibility. "Do you want me to kidnap you?" "Maybe," he shrugs, his expression unreadable. I can't believe this guy! As the light wind blows, Jasper's hair stirs, his ponytail slightly disheveled with strands framing his forehead and nearly obscuring his eyes. He's dressed in an all-black ensemble. An oversized shirt, a black hoodie with green dragon eyes, and baggy jeans. I've never seen him wear anything colorful, and I find myself wondering how he'd look in red.

"She's hurting Jake, she's hurting just as bad as you are. You need to fix this. By the way I need a hoodie from you, best one you have already worn." "You're a freak Evans, want my boxers too?" At least the real Jake is still in there. Trying to stifle a laugh I reply: "You idiot, it's for her. She cries herself into sleep every single day, while hugging the hoodie she has from you. I guess the scent soothes her." "She does?" He asks surprised and with an ocean of emotions running through his eyes. "Yes, so could you please give me one? After having it for nearly four weeks as a cry pillow, I suppose it's fairly worn off."

Jace’s caramel-like eyes held almost a look of disgust while he stared over at Link, he wore a simple pair of dark green checkered pajama pants and a plain black hoodie and his dark brown almost black hair was on his head like a mop as it normally was. Julain stood there clearly annoyed with the two already, his forest green eyes darting back and forth between them and looking over him, I was a bit surprised his dark red hair was wet still and flopped around his head and he wore a pair of gray sweat pants and a tight long sleeve black shirt that seemed to hug his body his hands shoved into his pockets.

I started sleeping in his hockey jersey during the second week after his flight left. It wasn't a Colorado jersey; there was no Colorado gear in our possession yet. It was his old Providence minor-league jersey, the dark fabric that said HAYES across the shoulders and featured the number seventeen stitched into the back. It had been hanging on the hook behind the doorless bedroom door since the morning he packed his bags. I took it down at two o’clock in the morning when the bond was at its absolute loudest volume in my chest, and I slipped the heavy mesh over my regular cotton sleep clothes.

Beneath them stood rows of polished leather boots and rugged jackets. I bypassed the suits, searching for something comfortable, until my eyes landed on a thick, soft grey hoodie. Rummaging a bit further, I found a drawer filled with his Calvin Klein designer boxers. I pulled out a matching light grey pair and slipped them on. Thankfully, because he was so massive, the boxers sat comfortably high on my waist, the hem reaching halfway down my thighs, while the oversized hoodie swallowed my frame completely, falling almost to my knees. It looked quite decent on me—like a cozy, makeshift dress.

I peeled one off to get a closer look. The bead curtain rattled to life with a splash. It was James, head down, checking off a list on a clip board. He stepped right into me, and then bounced back in shock. “Oh, shit! Sorry, man,” he said, reaching up to pull a pair of headphones down through his mop of teased black hair. He was wearing a white t-shirt with something on it under the blue satin dinner jacket I’d seen him wearing the morning after we found Boyd. A cheap looking gold plastic name badge pinned on the lapel, along with a round white button with a crude death’s head leering from inside a black circle with “The Misfits Fiend Club” written on it.

Jasper whispered in my ear and I felt a fearful chill run up my spine. “There could be more of them,” I whispered back and he nodded gravely, glancing around to make sure no one came down the hallway. “There must be a service entrance here somewhere. Follow me and try not to make eye contact with anyone.” Jasper released my dark locks from the confines of my hair tie and pulled the hoodie over my head and down to obscure my face. “What about you?” I whispered, looking at him worriedly, he was wearing a sweater without a hood and no matter what Jasper said, he was far more likely to be recognised.