notafeeling

[notafeeling]

ladies and gentlethem of the jury i present exhibit a of lesbians not knowing if theyre just friends or ~more~

#‘hey lol i know we’re picking out wedding dresses but like. do u like me?’ #lgbt

[notafeeling]

“And even though I had gotten my family back, all I could think about was Kieran.”

Writing Ask Game

Tagged by @mdelpin (this was awhile ago, I’m sorry i took so long to respond!)

Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote from any current WIP. Tag the number of people equivalent to the word count.

–

Natsu squeaked, “- Yes ma’am!”

Tagging: @doginshoe @petri808 @phoneboxfairy @celestialtitania

#not gonna tag anyone but ! #thanks for the tag im actually writing right now and its killing me

[notafeeling]

loving you {leaves me hurt}

A/N You should probably listen to Drive by Oh Wonder to clue in even earlier about Logan and Roman’s positions in this fic. Also, I really like this one.

Pairing: background/mentioned moxiety, one-sided royality, one-sided logince

Genre: angst, some hurt/comfort (but mostly angst. even when there’s comforting there’s underlying angst whoops.)

Word Count: 1640

Warnings: putting self in dangerous situations, swearing, crying… ANGST

Summary:

Roman can’t understand why Logan cares because he thinks he hates him. Logan doesn’t disagree, but he also doesn’t leave. 

Roman blindly grabs a blade from his collection and lets his room fade into a training arena. Opposite him is a straw dummy, held together with strings and rags. With a snap of his fingers, music starts blaring, and he charges at the object.

He swings his sword with no precision and little care, letting his hurt fuel his rage which in turn fuels his strikes, effectively destroying his creation in mere moments. He waves a hand and it resets, and he goes at it again, relishing in the tearing sound the rags make and the clang of the sword against the metal pole holding up the dummy. The jarring pain of his arms whenever this happens gives Roman something tangible to focus on, and he finds himself hitting the pole more. He can’t distinguish whether or not he’s doing it on purpose, but it doesn’t matter, because the dummy is unrecognisable again.

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[notafeeling]

hold your breath until it’s okay

A/N This took so long. I’ve been working on this. For. A. Month. Background for this: the sides are detectives. here’s the character post: x

Pairing: fuck if I know. Moxiety (platonic? romantic? idk.), prinxiety (one-sided/implied), logince (platonic i guess) and analogical (also platonic maybe?). just. just take it.

Genre: angst, fluff, humour, hurt/comfort, au, human au, brooklyn nine nine au, detective au (etc)

Word Count: 9530

Warnings: dear god okay DISCLAIMER the following does not apply to the sides: abuse, child abuse, murderers and murders, kidnapping, drug mention, drug use mention (probably? i can’t remember). the following DOES: swearing, gun use, serious injuries, getting shot, fighting… i think that covers it?

Read on AO3: x (fic is separated into chapters for easier reading but please reblog this post if you do read it!)

Summary:

Five times they closed a case without anyone getting hurt and the one time they didn’t.

1

Virgil was working harder than usual. The case Logan had assigned him was a tough one – no witnesses and no solid leads as of yet. He scanned the pictures he had been given of the crime scene again, but nothing had changed. The dead body of 22-year-old Kelly Parkins laid sprawled across her carpeted floor, blood staining her once-lovely blue dress and spilling out of what the medical examiner had confirmed as a stab wound. Most likely a kitchen knife. Not hers, though.

He winced as he forced himself to study the image yet again. The woman was so young. She still had so much life left to live and for it to be so crudely taken-

Virgil sighed and screwed his eyes shut. He would not allow himself to be affected like this – this was just the same-old, same-old. It wasn’t as if this was his first case like this, so why was he so upset? Must be the late hour, he decided with a yawn, and let his eyes drift over to the time on the computer screen. ‘2:08,’ it blinked at him. Whoops.

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[notafeeling]

The Things We Lost in Those We Loved

A/N This fic takes place in the same universe as They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera. If you like this I urge you to read it. Also! Deckers are people who have gotten the call from Death-Cast that day and Death-Cast is the company that alerts people that they’re going to die that day so they can “live their last day to the fullest”. Another thing - Deceit doesn’t mcfucking exist.

Genre: angst, some fluff, human!au, death cast!au

Pairing: romantic LAMP

Word Count: 4177

Warnings: talk of death, death mention, heavily implied character death, panic attack, its just really fucking sad okay

Summary:

Virgil gets a call from Death-Cast at 12:32 a.m. telling him he will die today. He’s determined to have one last day with his boyfriends. (The only thing is, he doesn’t tell them it’s his last day.)

Virgil Sanders is going to die today.

He is not old and he is not sick, and he is certainly not a risk-taker. The most dangerous thing about him is that he has an anxiety disorder, but even that should mean he will be fine.

But he won’t be.

Virgil Sanders knows he will die today, and this time he isn’t over-exaggerating due to some embarrassing event or due to him forgetting to study for an exam until the morning before.

He knows because it had just turned 12:32 a.m. when his phone starts to ring.

At first this doesn’t really register with him, and he takes his time in answering. He assumes it’s one of his boyfriends. Probably Patton telling him to go to bed, he muses with a smile on his face as he pauses his show and performs the mandatory search for his phone. The object in question is tucked under layers of blankets.

He picks it up, brings the screen into view, and he doesn’t realise why he’s suddenly frozen until the time on his phone reads 12:33.

DEATH-CAST is calling.

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[notafeeling]

Ache

A/N Rewrite of a bfu fic in order to suit human!au analogical where they both work for a production company.

Pairing: analogical

Genre: human!au, angst, happy ending

Word Count: 2618

Warnings: minor self-deprecation (from logan, not virgil, gasp)

Summary: Virge is everything he can’t have. Logan tells himself he’s okay with that, for the most part. (He watches Virgil laugh at one of his clueless remarks, and he isn’t. He isn’t okay with that at all.)

- In other words, Virgil is working hard on a video and is ignoring the world. Logan, as a member of the world, isn’t very happy about this.

-

Logan arrives at work with two coffees in his hands. He smiles when he sees Virgil already at the desk beside his, but then it drops once he realises he’s hunched over and frantically tapping away at his keyboard.

So it’s one of those days, huh.

Logan can tell that Virgil’s already been here for hours, even though their shifts start at the same time, and he knows from experience that he’ll be here long after Logan leaves.

Virgil gets like this sometimes – often when he’s stressed, which is usually due to a video the production company they work for asked Virgil to do. Logan doesn’t approve of the way he pushes himself, but he’s learnt not to say anything about it. Any attempt at non-work-related conversation is met with a grunt, or, if it’s particularly unproductive, a vicious glare that sends chills down his spine. Even Logan’s not that bad.

That’s why instead of making a joke at how awful Virgil looks (even though he doesn’t look awful at all, despite the deep bruises under his eyes portraying utter exhaustion), Logan only sets down Virgil’s coffee beside the man and plonks himself at his desk. And no, he does not look over to check up on his friend every two seconds. Because he doesn’t miss him. Because that would be ridiculous.

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[notafeeling]

Grand Ami

A/N For @organizeddiscord ‘s prinxiety fluff prompt. Sorry for any mistakes in the French! This is a rewrite of an old fic of mine for another fandom.

Pairing: prinxiety

Genre: fluff, human!au, highschool!au, asexual!roman

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

Summary: 

Virgil is dating Roman and today is the day he was finally going to meet his parents. Of course he’s nervous, who wouldn’t be? He wants to make a good impression. This may be made a tiny bit harder by the fact that Virgil’s terrible at French and that’s mostly what Roman’s parents speak.

Today was the day Virgil was finally going to meet Roman’s parents. Over the course of the past two years, the boys had grown increasingly close, ever since they were first introduced. Some might have thought that basically two years of knowing each other and almost five months of dating would’ve resulted in already having met each other’s parents, but there was a reason for that not being the case.

Roman’s family had moved from Lyon, France to Florida at the start of last year. Being younger and frankly more interested in English, the melodramatic teen had perfected the language (and often found himself using archaic English just to seem more prince-like, much to Virgil and their friend Logan’s chagrin). Despite Roman’s practically flawless bilingual status, his parents were a different story, according to him. It wasn’t like they couldn’t speak it, more so that they wanted to make a good impression and were worried they would embarrass themselves (which Virgil was still entirely convinced Roman had made up just to make him feel better).

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[notafeeling]

love.

A/N can be read as platonic or romantic love.

virgil’s name is anxiety. he wears all black and he pretends that his eyeshadow comes from a pallet, not the way his room forces him to be. he’s scary and mean, and he’s blamed for everything. he loves nothing and no one.

he’s not part of their group. he’s not part of any group. he’s hated too much by both to even consider that he has a place. and he’s fine with that. social interaction makes him anxious. plus, morality, logic and prince are so… vibrant. he’s monochromatic. he doesn’t belong with them.

the others… they’re meaner than he is, with sharper tongues and backhanded insults. they also have their own garish colours. so anxiety’s fine with his all black wardrobe, thank you very much.

-

he’s still anxiety. he’s upgraded from a menace to a nuisance but it’s okay because occasionally he’s funny or brings a valid point to the table. he finds himself showing up more and more, yet he keeps his insults pointed. it’s pretty clear he’s the antagonist, so he plays into it. when asked who he loves, he doesn’t reply.

he’s blending in, a bit. then again, black can be easily paired with several colours. that doesn’t mean anything. it just means they’re tolerating his presence - keeping him close to keep him in check, more likely.

anxiety doesn’t even think about the others anymore. instead, he thinks about disney arguments with roman, cookies with patton and debates with logan. it’s a truce, of sorts. nothing permanent. and he’s okay with that. really.

-

he swears anxiety will always remain anxiety. he’s a debbie downer, a defeatist, and whatever else is thrown at him. he’s shoved back into the role of the villain, and it scares him how seamlessly he fades into it. he’s got messy hair and dark clothes, and while the sides may love each other they don’t love him.

it’s more than clear they don’t want him here. he confessed how much he hated flying and was immediately made to do so, before being punched down to the ground by the hero. his chest aches, but not because of the fall.

he wonders if there’s a way for him to stay around without having to endure the insults, when it hits him. he’s not necessary. he never was. maybe his… other acquaintances had the right idea in remaining concealed. he looks at the unfinished hoodie and realises that if he leaves, the purple patches will never see the light of day. but some things you just have to accept.

-

he doesn’t have a name. he isn’t anything. it’s dark and empty here, but that’s okay. his goal was to help thomas all along, and if this is how he can manage it… he comes to the conclusion that love isn’t for someone like him.

he tries his best not to think about roman, logan and patton. they hurt him. they don’t like him. hell, they don’t even tolerate him. not anymore. he gets it - he pushed it. he started showing up more and participating, but who wants more anxiety?

in the dark, red and two distinct shades of blue enter. though he swore he’d let them go, he materialises to save them. he has to.

-

his name is virgil. he wears a purple shirt and hoodie to match the dyed hair on top. he’s loganpattonromanandvirgil, but not just that. he’s also pattonromanvirgilandlogan, romanvirgilloganandpatton and every other variation. it’s no secret the sides love each other. virgil just doesn’t have the words to tell them yet.

they’re all trying. roman cuts back his insults, patton does his best to include him and logan keeps him grounded. they think he’s important. they think- he is one of them. and he is, even if he steps out of line. he’s learning that they all do that, now and again, and he knows how to help.

everyone’s aware of deceit now, and he has no doubt that more will follow. but that’s okay, because they have each other.

-

his name is virgil. he wears all purple and he no longer pretends that their words don’t effect him, and instead voices when he’s uncomfortable. he’s relatable and chill, and he’s accepted just the way he is. he loves the sides so much, it scares him.

he goes along with their gambits, such as puppets and musicals about jam, because watching them have fun… it warms him. purple looks good in the mix of colours, and he rarely spends an afternoon alone.

he almost slips up and uses the l-word. they’re not stupid, so he knows that the others caught that. it’s okay though, because both roman and thomas used it, patton’s always been open about how much he cares for them and… well, logan is emotionally stunted. he’s part of the puzzle - part of their puzzle. and when the time comes that he messes up completely (or, somehow, makes the conscious decision to say it), virgil knows he won’t be alone.

because he loves them, and they love him too.

[notafeeling]

homesick. [logince singer!au]

A/N a while ago i was feeling really homesick and wanted to write a fic off of it. @figurative-falsehood suggested i write logince, so here we are.

Pairing: logince (Logan/Roman)

Genre: human au; singer au (roman); mild hurt/comfort; fluff; drabble

Word Count: 794

Warnings: none (if i missed any, please tell me)

Summary:

Roman’s been on tour for a month. It begins to hurt a little.

-

The crowd before him screams out his name and wave banners proclaiming their love for Roman as he performs with his entire being. The mass of people pulsate with each hit of the drum and shout along to Roman’s choruses. The energy they radiate keeps him moving throughout the entire concert and it fills him up with so much love that he feels like he’s floating. He laughs and he jokes and he dodges the various items thrown onstage: never anything bad, but it’s still awkward when he has to step around a bra.

He’s super taken and super gay, thank you very much.

When the concert winds down, he thanks everyone for coming to see him (even after all these years, it blows him away) and his smile widens at the answering roar. He gives a wave and jogs offstage as the high saps from him and his shoulders drop.

Twenty minutes later, and he’s slumped against the inside of a limousine desperately tapping his screen in an attempt to get FaceTime to work.

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[notafeeling]

Nerd-Themed

A/N an anon asked for a remy/logan soulmate fic and Here We Are. @transkleinman and @pattons-cat-hoodie i saw you two express interest in the pairing so i hope you don’t mind me tagging you!

Pairing: Remy/Logan (regan? lomy? lemy??)

Genre: human au, soulmate au, fluff, proposal

Word Count: 2021

Warnings: none (tell me if i missed any)

Summary:

Logan’s a college professor just trying to look professional. Remy is his boyfriend who gets covered in coffee stains and pen ink, and due to their soulmate bond, it appears on Logan too. Logan’s students are interested in what his soulmate is shopping for.

-

Logan has a routine.

On most mornings, he’ll wake up at precisely 7 to his boyfriend clattering about the apartment. He’ll take his clothes into the bathroom and shower with cold water for no longer than 5 minutes. Then, he’ll make sure the metallic taps are twisted closed as tight as possible. He’ll reach up and grab one of the dark blue towels hanging over the glass shower wall to dry his hair, then he’ll use the other on his body.

Once he’s finished, he’ll step out and get changed into his daily attire - often his favourite vibrant blue tie, a black polo of sorts and either jeans or slacks, depending on what the day necessitates.

He is a college professor after all - the students don’t care too much about what pants he wears, but if he has a meeting with his colleagues, he’ll put in the extra effort.

Looking professional is vital.

That is just one of the reasons why his soulmate is possibly the most annoying person on earth.

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[notafeeling]

Everything Stays

A/N Heavily inspired by Rebecca Sugar’s Everything Stays, which I’ve been wanting to write this fic for for over a year.

Warnings: past character death, implied heart disease, grief and implications of depression

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: royality (Roman/Patton)

Genre: sAD,, heavy angst and a whole lot of hurt, some comfort, bitter sweet ending

Excerpt:

“Well…” Patton pauses, mulling over his words. “I don’t want my absence to cause you pain. Not that I’m planning on going anywhere! I just think that you have so many people who love you, Roman, and a whole world out there for you. You can’t… You can’t devote your entire self and essence to one person, you know what I mean?”

“Not really, no.”

-

He hears a laugh; full of giggles and pure happiness. His heart swells as he follows the sound, making his way past their homely fireplace and cozy couches where they had spent so many nights cuddled up together on. The back door of the kitchen is slightly ajar, and he pushes it open to reveal the garden outside.

There, surrounded by fuzzy, golden light is-

Roman wakes up with a gasp. His bedroom is cold and dark. Big and empty. He raises one weary hand to his cheek and feels the wetness there.

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[notafeeling]

Infinitesimal (Part I)

A/N Infinitesimal (originally titled in a haze as “LOGAN IS BARRY BLUEJEANS”) is a Sanders Sides AU set in the world of The Adventure Zone: Balance, a DnD podcast made by the McElroy brothers. If you have not started The Stolen Century arc and don’t want spoilers, do not read.

Pairing: eventual logince (Logan/Roman)

Genre: scifi; slowburn

Warnings: temporary character death; TAZ-canon-typical violence

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary:

Logan had always thought that being a human meant he had to work harder and faster than everyone else to truly make a difference in the world. When his home is consumed by an intergalactic force known as The Hunger and he’s forced to go on the run through space with six others for a century, he realises that that’s not exactly true.

Or, Logan accepts an offer to join the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration and to travel around the mysterious planes that control his planet for a few months, but ends up hopping realities and dying a whole bunch alongside his mismatched crew members, learning how to love somewhere along the way.

-

Logan knows that, as a human, he has certain limitations in this world. For one thing, his 80-year expected lifespan is nothing compared to the centuries-old elves and dwarves who are considered teenagers. For another, it means he can’t rely on magic. He doesn’t have enough time to spend it mastering something he was never meant to have.

He turns to science at a young age.

The stars call him from outside his dirty, cracked window, and he dreams of the day he can fly among them. He wants to touch, he wants to grow, he wants to be something more.

Even at 8, he knows that his world doesn’t have the technology for that, and won’t for a very long time. It doesn’t stop him from yearning, though.

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[notafeeling]

Remus &/x Virgil: "Just like old times"?

Just Like Old Times

Word Count: 832

Warnings: Remus-typical behaviour (dirty jokes that are cut off by Virgil, talk of violence and also talk of killing his brother, no actual killing though), neutral-bordering-on-good Remus

Pairing: platonic remus & virgil

-

Virgil and Remus were not hanging out. It was a meeting of the minds. A mutual-interest-fuelled discussion. Not hanging out.

It started with a movie. It was Virgil’s favourite - The Black Cauldron. Sombre with just enough humour to get by, and absolutely no songs. Perfect.

Only, the self-proclaimed “better half” of Creativity decided that any Disney movie was a movie that he was entitled to watch.

So here they were. Roman, spread out into Virgil’s personal space, feet up on his lap and making up his own godawful songs whenever the film got too depressing for his tastes. At worst, he ruined the experience for him. At best, Virgil wanted to snap his neck just so he’d never have to hear another note again.

Finally, after a gruelling hour and a half, Roman retreated to his room, still humming some stupid tune under his breath.

Don’t get him wrong, Virgil wasn’t usually this worked up. Well, okay, maybe he was, but he was usually better at handling it. It was just, it was his day off. Thomas had nothing stressful on the horizon and for once, he didn’t feel the need to terrorise Thomas’ mind with what if’s.

A movie sounded nice! It sounded relaxing! But then Sir Prat-A-Lot decided to weasel his way in on Virgil’s me-time, and while he may be getting better at voicing when he needed space, he still wasn’t there.

He tried! Well, he thought about trying, and that had to count for something, but the words just wouldn’t come. And besides, Roman was wearing that stupid smile of his, so wide and blinding that Virgil just didn’t have the heart to tell him to shove off. Even though he wanted to. Very, very badly.

Instead, he stuck out his chin and endured. Because, really, Roman’s happiness was rare! Genuine, heartfelt joy. It wouldn’t be right to take that away from him. 

“I could clobber him for you!”

Virgil’s headache intensified. He had his forehead resting against the cool metal of the fridge, trying to dissociate as much as possible before any of his other senses decided to try and make things worse.

“No thanks, Remus,” he muttered.

“Aww, you sure? All it would take is one good hit!” There was a swoosh through the air as Remus took a swing, then a loud thud as it slipped out of his hands and cracked the tiles. “Oops!”

Virgil groaned. “Fix that up before Patton sees.”

“Ay, ay, captain!” 

Remus seemed far too happy to comply. Virgil wondered if being a pain in the neck was a Creativity criterion. 

“When I open my eyes, the tiles better not be dick-shaped.”

“You used to be such fun,” Remus bemoaned. “Anyway, my offer still stands!”

Right. ‘Course he wouldn’t leave him alone. He never did back then, so why should he now?

Virgil sighed and turned to face him. “Look, he’s my friend now. And I’m not going to go around pranking him, okay? Plus he’d probably get me back with something worse.”

“My brother is too much of a kind-hearted fool for that! Think of all the times I’ve hit him over the head! He’s yet to stab me!”

“Only because you’re better at fighting!”

“You flatter me, Virge. Flattery turns me-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m going to open that drawer, grab a butter knife and stab your hand into the counter.”

“Have it your way then.” Remus slipped away from the kitchen. “I was going to offer a conspiracy-theory marathon, just like old times. Guess I’ll have to go alone.”

Virgil watched him go. 

“Wait.”

Remus’ moustache twitched. “Yes?”

“Make the stupid popcorn and I’ll get my goddamn laptop ready.”

“When did your language get so PG?”

“Blame Patton. I’ve changed a lot since you last saw me.”

“Hmm. Don’t let dear old D to know this, but it’s a nice change. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always in the mood for short, dark and gloomy but a small realist mouse is pretty cute too!”

“Don’t call me cute. Or short, for that matter!”

“Alright, mousey.”

“I hate you.”

Remus winked. “I know!”

So Remus began to make popcorn and Virgil fished out Remus’ laptop before deciding better of it and going to grab his own. He settled in and when he heard a familiar whoosh, he didn’t look up. The only sides who could enter without Thomas or his permission were Deceit and Remus, and Deceit had made a point of steering clear of his room since their… chat.

“What first? Australian shark arms? Texarkana killer? Florida machete murder? Personally, I think she faked it! Imagine, a woman doomed to marry some real estate agent- disgusting!”

“A real job with a suit and everything? Honestly, I would fake it too.”

“Right?!” Remus settled in beside Virgil on the couch, already stuffing handfuls of popcorn in his mouth and spitting kernels into a separate bowl.

“Now that’s disgusting.”

“I’m saving it for later!”

“Ugh. Shouldn’t’ve said anything.”

[notafeeling]

euphoria

A/N prompted by @andysepticeye - nonbinary logan coming out to their supportive bf, roman. also, the first fanfic ive posted in several months

word count: 1055

warnings: accidental misgendering (due to logan not being out)

summary: emotional vulnerability, two insecure partners and the discovery of euphoria.

-

Roman shifts closer into Logan’s side and their whole body feels warm. Content. Happy. Roman continues chatting with the others but Logan remains silent, relishing in their boyfriend’s presence. 

Everything is perfect, but…

“Isn’t my boyfriend the cutest?” Roman announces to the room as he absentmindedly strokes Logan’s hair. Logan tries not to flinch, tries to choke down the feeling of wrongness.

Virgil grunts an affirmation and Patton coos. “He sure is!”

Logan twitches. Their hand flexes. Tightens. Roman sends them a questioning look and they quickly withdraw, schooling their features from discomfort to neutral, un-tensing their shoulders and releasing their breath.

Roman knows them better than that, though.

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[notafeeling]

holy shit mek i haven’t interacted with your blog in like. a year. but i saw your username on the notification and i was very glad to see you were still alright. hope you’re doing okay, dude - you were a BRILLIANT friend to 13/yo rowan (it’s alright if you don’t remember me) and i just wanted to say that lmao. thank you -16/yo rowan

ahHhh hey!! im glad ur still around and i hope ur doing well too!

#ah its so wack to think ive been here 3-4 yrs #like some of yall r 21 now #what #(@ bells happy belated bday holy shit ur old)

[notafeeling]

it's good to see you posting again 💙

thank you! i still wont be around much but its good to check in and see how everyone is

#so many changed usernames tho #damn i wasnt gone that lon

[notafeeling]

tumblr friendships are hard to maintain like im sorry i know i havent talked to you in 5 months but you’re still super rad and i still consider us friends im just dumb