#as sympathetic as bat's situation was and as much as one could understand why he couldn't forgive cecelia and accept her help

[legobiwan]

1-the character everyone gets wrong for Gravity Falls and 16-you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc) for Star Wars ??

The character everyone gets wrong (Gravity Falls)

I want to preface this answer by saying that I think there are a plethora of fantastic Gravity Falls fics, comics, and metas out there that address and explore Stanley's possible mental health issues in light of everything we've learned about his backstory, which is pretty damn bleak. And yes, I do enjoy reading this angst.

The fandom tends to focus on this particular side of Stanley and with good reason - it is absolutely fertile ground for analysis and there is no doubt he is a tortured individual.

But there is a tendency to "blorbo-ize" Stan and his sympathetic history. While he was absolutely forced into some horrendous situations and had to make decisions based solely on survival probability, this is also a man who has a rap sheet a mile long, has outstanding warrants throughout the majority of the country, and is heavily, heavily implied to have been dealing in cartel business.

You don't get that far in these circles without having a backbone of steel and the capacity to do some seriously shady - and bloody - shit. Sure, Stan eventually bailed from the more hardcore aspects of his existence. And this isn't to say he's fundamentally a bad person or even liked everything he was doing - but he is a dangerous man, whether that danger comes at the end of a gun barrel or a marked ace of spades.

And I think this aspect of his character gets underplayed in a lot of fandom. (Interestingly enough, Ford is the one who is generally allocated this role, due to his dimensional hobo life on the run. And Ford is a badass, but Stan is equal to his brother in this, albeit in a different context). Stan maybe wants to forget that part of his life (understandable), but he didn't get as far as he did being a criminal (you don't get to rack up that kind of sheet and stay mostly clear of the law without some considerable feats) without developing certain skills and he'd be dead five times over if he weren't some kind of threat. Yes, by the time we meet him in the show, those instincts may have been dulled, likely intentionally, but this is the same man who admits to having 10 firearms in his household, even if his reasoning is (seemingly) ludicrous.

Runners-up: Mabel and the Flanderization of her zaniness. (Let's not forget she put the majority of the puzzle pieces together in Not What He Seems). Ford's seemingly god-like combat skills (the man gets his ass handed to him on multiple occasions in the show and is in constant need of rescue after he comes back from the Portal. Don't get me wrong - I love a badass Ford - but he wasn't exactly batting 1.000 after returning to Gravity Falls).

16. You can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc) (Star Wars)

I fully expect to get pilloried by certain factions of the fandom for this opinion, and to be honest, it's been a long-standing thorn in my side.

The Jedi were not 100% without fault and yes, some of decisions they made fed into their ultimate demise.

Was it deserved? No. Were they evil? No.

Were they a stagnant organization led by a creature who had lived long enough to distance himself from the day-to-day concerns of the majority of mortal beings under his care? Yes. Did they have an effective strategy to combat their massive, massive PR problem - a problem which ended up with them characterized as a baby-snatching cult of superbeings that could easily usurp the will of a (corrupt) Republic government? Nooooo, not at all.

They refused to play politics. Until they had to play politics. And they lost on all sides.

There was so much emphasis on tradition and purity of said tradition in the organization - even if the highest members of the Council didn't necessarily 100% agree with this - the mythology of it was present enough in the Jedi Temple, that constant, subtle pressure to do things in a certain way, to avoid wholly the Dark Side (even if the individual teachings of the Masters went against this). The Jedi wanted to change, but at the same time, couldn't budge the 1,000 ton boulder of their past until it was too late to avoid Palpatine's machinations.

The ultimate tragedy is that the Jedi meant well, but couldn't collectively nudge their organization towards change.

And they did make some baffling decisions - Anakin being allowed to train at all being peak among them. (And then letting Obi-wan - a grieving 25-year old being held hostage by a deathbed promise - to train Anakin, as per the "will of the Force..." This was not well-thought out by anyone involed.)

Dooku had legitimate criticisms of the Order, even if he ultimately expressed his grievances by betraying everyone and everything he loved and aligning himself with an ultimate evil that not even he could overcome. Qui-gon, for all of his many fault, had some great ideas for the Order and should have been on the Council - if for not other reason, than to upset the status quo (and yes, I know he turned it down, and that's another story altogether).

It feels, that in a certain way, the Jedi were crushed by their own mythology, and by the time that leviathan breached the surface, it was far too late for change.

Discussions of the Jedi have a tendency to polarize quickly, and I'd love for there to be more space for exploration of where they did fail without consigning the whole organization to the out-of-touch and evil-by-incompetence box.

(And caveat lector: post this fully admitting I haven't meditated on Star Wars lore in quite some time, so excuse some of the broader strokes of this analysis).

Ask me a spicy fandom question

#hello there #ask legobiwan #gravity falls #stan pines #mabel pines #ford pines #star wars #the jedi #there's a whole other category for my sincere dislike of human!bill but that's not germane to these particular questions #so i'll just leave that little tidbit in the tags

[alwaysteveswife]

Crazy for you | Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader.

a/n: I apologize for my inactivity 🥲 I have no excuse, I've just been procrastinating as much as I can because I'm going back to school soon 🙂.

After days of being terrorized by Vecna, the group of older teens decides to confront him once and for all, even if their lives are in danger.

Warnings: Angst, Y/N being sensitive about her relationship with Steve, insecurity, Steve being half a jerk and preferring Nancy over his girlfriend, narrated in first person.

Words: 2,419

"Okay, so me, Robin and Steve will go attack Vecna while he's with Max, and you three" Nancy points at me, Dustin and Eddie "You'll be the distraction".

"The bait, you mean" I cross my arms, frowning, "Don't you think it's a bad idea? Just look at us! None of us could fight those bats" I sighed, crossing my arms. "We barely made it out of there alive last time".

"Don't worry, it's impossible for things to go wrong, we know how to attack now" Steve took my hand, stroking it to calm me down.

"How can you be so sure of that, are you blind? The three of us can't fight off a flock of killer bats!" I pulled his hand away angrily.

"Y/N..."

"No! Don't try to convince me!" I left the trailer and slammed the door shut, hurrying to the forest, wiping away my tears.

Now a bit away from the others, I sat down on a log and began to cry, letting out everything I had been holding in this past week.

"Y/N" Steve stopped in front of me, looking at me sympathetically. He knelt down and made me lift my face to look at him, "Look, I know these last few days have been hard for you, for everyone, but you have to understand that we don't have a choice".

"re you serious?" I gritted my teeth, holding back the urge to yell at Steve. "Steve, that.... Nancy wants to use us as bait, she wants to see us die, don't you get it? Do you really think music is going to save us? This isn't a stupid musical, and you know it".

He sighed, pulling his hair back.  He took my hands and kissed my forehead. As if that would change my mind.

"Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? Eddie and Dustin will be there with you".

"But I don't want to be with them, I want to be with you" I wiped away the tears, they were coming back. "We're supposed to be a team, Steve. I... I don't like the way things are between us".

He opened his eyes, surprised. I could see the fear in his eyes, he stood up, looking down at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't know if I'm capable of going through with this" I looked down at my hands, unable to look him in the face. "I love you, Steve. I love you very much".

"Then why?" I heard his voice break. He was starting to cry.

"Why is that? Oh, I don't know, maybe because you spend all your time with your ex lately, even though you know she has a boyfriend, and to make matters worse, she's flirting with you" I replied in a sarcastic tone, taking away any feelings of sympathy for him.

"Sometimes it seriously amazes me how childish you can be".

In another situation I would have taken the comment as a joke, but not in this one. I stood up, watching as he had begun to frown in anger.

"Childish? Do you really think I'm childish? Do you want me to remind you of what you've done this week with her?" I had started breathing hard, and to make matters worse, my chest hurt like hell itself. "All this week I've been trying to ignore how she hints at you, hints that I know you pick up on!" I pressed my index finger to his chest angrily, "Damn it, Steve, all I asked you to do during this mess was to stay with me" I'd started crying for real, I could swear even the guys could hear me. "This could have been our last night alive, and you preferred to spend it with Nancy".

"She was lonely..."

"I was lonely too! I felt lonely, and stupid, and horrible" this time I clenched my fist, pounding it hard on my chest "I'm your girlfriend! I should be your priority between the two of us, and every time you've preferred her it breaks a part of me" I hit him again, screaming loudly-. I know I'm not as pretty as her, and I'm not as smart, or funny, or anything, but you said you loved me, and I... I believed you" I relaxed my hand, passing it over my head "I believed you..."

"Y/N..." He took my hands again, and for a moment I could have sworn he was shaking. "Listen".

"Don't touch me" I pushed him hard, "Don't talk to me, don't even dare to look at me" I took a breath, pushing past him to get back to the trailer. "If anything happens tomorrow... if this really ends up being our last day, I hope you remember that I warned you, Harrington".

After that fight I could hardly sleep. I stayed outside, watching the night sky, listening to Dustin's light snoring. I could also notice Steve watching me from the doorway, but I preferred to pretend not to notice, I didn't have the courage to face him again, I knew I would fall for his charms.

When it was time to start the plan, everyone had their weapons and suits ready. Eddie and Dustin were serious about the band. We moved to the other side, first was Steve, who helped by putting a mattress on the floor and help.

I refused, I had legs and arms, I could get up from a simple mattress.

"Okay, remember, no one can get out of the plan, okay? "

Steve approached us, he had the spiked bat in his right hand, and was carrying a large bag in his left arm.

"Remember, you're just going to be the distraction, after that you run to the van and go home. No heroics, okay?"

"Easy, Steve, we're not heroes" Eddie smiled, wrapping his arms around Dustin's shoulders and winking at me.

"Hey" He walked over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I thought I made things clear yesterday" I pushed his hand away, nodding my head, "Nancy is calling you, you should go with her, unless you want to ruin her much loved plan" I turned around, grabbing the mic and walking with the guys to set things up.

We had the whole van covered with tights and boards, so we were sure that no flying bats could attack us. The three of us stood on top of it, Eddie plugged in his guitar and my mic, Dustin set up the amps, and the show started.

I could have sworn it was the longest minute of my life. I knew the words by heart, but there were still times when I almost ruined the song out of nerves.

When they were close to us, we jumped out and into the van, ready to jump into the other side. Our plan had everything to be perfect, except for one thing. The fans. Those things would fit through them, and we found out the hard way. Eddie was shooing them away with his spiked shield, I was just pushing Dustin up the rope so he could cross to the other side.

Then, for a second, I noticed how Eddie was determined to stay to fight, and I was determined to stay with him to help him. To defend Steve.

"Sorry, Dustin" I took a knife and cut the sheets, throwing the mattress to the side to keep him from crossing. I looked at Eddie and he nodded. We were ready to do our part. Be the bait.

We ran outside and hopped on a bike, me on the seat and Eddie up. I could tell he was driving with all his might, but it wasn't enough, they were catching up to us. I closed my eyes, knowing it would soon be the end of us, praying that at least there would be no more dead besides the two of us.

When I opened them again, I was floating in the air and crashing to the ground. Eddie had crashed the bike. We both got up to start running, but a few steps beyond where we fell, he turned and raised his spear, ready to strike.

"Eddie, what are you doing!" I shouted in desperation, watching those things approaching faster and faster.

"Stop being a coward!" He struck a fighting pose, ready to fight those beasts.

I tightened my grip on the spear in my hand. I couldn't leave him there. I couldn't abandon him and let Alex lose another important person. I ran to his side, ready for my end.

"We're in this together, Munson".

He smiled at me, nodding. In less than a second, everything around us went black, and a blizzard nearly tripped me. They were flying very hard. We started fighting, punching and burying knives anywhere we could.

We had managed to bring a few down, but there were more of them than us, and they were stronger. In less time than we thought, we both ended up on the ground, being bat food.

I don't think I had ever screamed so much in my life. I could feel them tearing at my skin and eating my body. For a brief moment I could even make out how one of them pulled out a large chunk of meat. I turned to look at Eddie, he was still struggling from the ground, he was doing much better than me.

When I had no more hope of staying alive, the bats fell to the ground like autumn leaves, lifeless. Eddie was a few feet away from me.  He was breathing hard, but he was still laughing, he made it, he survived.

"Y/N, Eddie!" Dustin came limping toward us. He was crying.

"Dustin, we did it!" Eddie got up with Dustin's help, celebrating. "We did it!" He stopped when he saw me on the floor. I knew I couldn't save myself from this one.

"Y/N!" Dustin left Eddie and came over to me as fast as he could. "Holy shit!"

"Does it look that bad?" I tried to smile, but even the thought of it made my whole body ache.

"No! We're going to get you fixed up, we're going to go home, and we'll call a hospital, and you'll be fine" He started to cry even more, caressing my face.

"Dustin, I can't move" I said with difficulty, closing my eyes from exhaustion.

Eddie offered to carry me in his arms, and we stayed in the van, sitting on Eddie's couch. We planned to wait for the others to cross, we couldn't do it alone, not in these conditions.

Dustin and Eddie spent the next few minutes trying to keep me awake and one hundred percent awake. I felt myself losing more and more blood with each passing second. My strength was draining away. I couldn't hold on much longer.

"We won, guys, we won!" Robin came in cheerfully, behind her came the others. They were all happy.

Dustin looked at them, still crying. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but only sobs came out.

The others looked at each other worriedly, approaching him to ask what happened. I guessed it was so dark they couldn't see all the blood I haved lost.

"Don't cry... Dustin" I realized my voice was barely audible. "You said it... remember? We're going to... go home and... call a hospital".

Dustin turned away, unable to see me. The others remained static, and Eddie just hugged me releasing a couple of tears that fell on my shoulders.

"Why... those faces? We won" I smiled, trying to keep from showing how much it hurt to talk.

"We did it, Y/N, we won" Robin came up to me, crying. She took my hand and looked at Eddie, who just shook his head.

I looked at Steve, who had sat on the floor in front of me, he kissed my forehead and brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

"You did great, honey".

I smiled, closing my eyes. The pain had begun to subside, and my body felt lighter.

"Remember what we talked about in... the trailer?" I started coughing loudly, feeling a thick liquid come out of my mouth. Eddie's grip tightened, as did Dustin's crying.

"The Harrington family?"

"Yes" My breathing began to slow, my eyelids felt heavier, I was sleepy. "About the... six mini Harringtons" I laughed as best I could, imagining what it would be like to have six Steve's running around the house. Robin and Dustin would take care of them.

I heard him let out a sort of laugh combined with a sob. I always loved his laugh, I felt complete when I could make him laugh at a difficult time for him.

"And we would go to California, to a beach" I felt his hand caress my cheek with great care. "The eight of us would watch the sunset, you'd be taking pictures of the scenery, and I'd scold the kids for going too far away".

I nodded, starting to feel a chill run through my body.

"And on the way we would play 'Crazy for you' by Madonna, do you remember the lyrics?"

"Of course I do" he waited a few seconds before he started singing softly, "Swaying room as the music starts..."

"Strangers making the most of the dark..." I used all my strength to open my eyes to look at him. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I really love you, Steve".

He shook his head, still crying.

"I'm sorry, you were right, about everything" He looked at the floor, and I closed my eyes again "Allyson, I..."

And then everything went black. I couldn't hear anything, all the pain I felt before was completely gone. And that's when I realized it was the end of me.

The price to pay for winning the final battle.

Masterlist

#stranger things #fanfic #stranger things au #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things steve #babygirl steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington my beloved #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem

[worriedvision]

Hunting the turned - Tighnari

So this is a fic where the reader is turned to a vampire, and Tighnari is a vampire hunter. It'll make sense , gender neutral reader. Someone dies at the end, it’s not happy

--

You worked alongside your boyfriend as a pair of forest rangers, and you worked rather well together. However, it felt like he was hiding something scary from you. You'd ask him why he looked so on edge, why he was out later than usual and bringing an assortment of traps and weapons with him. You had arguments when you brought it up, you accusing him of thinking of you as weak and him arguing back that you were thinking too much about it, insisting he was just not wanting you to be involved in what he was doing. You didn’t want to think he was unfaithful, and there was no way he would grab the same weapons and traps before heading out every night to be going on a date with someone else. 

One night, you follow him when he starts to carry out his night work. You see him catching up with a few people, discussing vampire sightings, and you didn’t understand it very well. Feeling a sharp sensation in your neck, you feel your blood run cold as someone grabs you and whisks you away. 

You ask the person what they were doing, and they explain that you were bitten by a bat, and were soon going to turn soon. 

“Okay, now why did you really drag me here?” You ask, only to receive a sympathetic look. “Oh god.” You gasp, tearing up as you think about the implications of being a vampire.

You wouldn’t be able to enjoy the food you used to, you wouldn’t be able to meet up with your friends at all now, and the worst part of it...

Your boyfriend was looking to hunt vampires, meaning you were now on the list.

--

The thought of drinking blood made you sick, and you refused. Whenever the vampires you were living with insisted you had to take it, you still refused. In a way, you were denying the situation you were in. Over time, you grow weaker and weaker. No longer were you able to run, no longer could you wield your bow, no longer could you talk for long. 

A nightly routine you liked to do was take a walk, find Tighnari, and watch your boyfriend from afar. You note the worry in his eyes, growing by the day, and you discover that since your disappearance, he feared the vampires killed you. After you take a step backwards, you fall into the most obvious trap. It flings you up, trapping you within a net, and you hear people yell out about catching a vampire, running over to finish the job. 

Tighnari is the first to arrive, and he hauls the net down, taking note of the lack of resistance. This vampire was rather weak, as if it was a recently turned vampire that refused to harm others. He felt bad for the vampire, but he knew what had to be done. Pulling out a dagger infused with a potion he worked on, holds the weapon up as he prepares to kill the vampire. 

You can’t help but turn to look at him one last time. You knew he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t show mercy even if you were the most virtuous vampire. You saw others like you, who were weakened and didn’t feed on any blood. Failing to smile, you feel incredibly low as it feels like the world has gone in slow motion. The dagger drives down, your boyfriends initial cold expression morphing into one of horror as he realises who he was about to kill. He commits, but the second the dagger makes contact, he freezes up. 

The other vampire hunters left him to be alone with you, knowing that it wouldn’t be right to be there to see it. 

“Thank you.” You tear up, knowing that you were going to die without contributing to anyone’s harm or death. 

“Don’t say that.” Tighnari whispers, voice cracking. 

You don’t respond, and after checking for signs of life, Tighnari knows he has successfully hunted you down.

#tighnari x reader #tighnari x gender neutral reader #tighnari #gender neutral reader #vampire #angst #genshin impact x reader

[amitlee]

Hi! I saw your request where open. And I’ve been having sever brain rot. What about a Ler! Karlnapity and Lee! Tommy fic? If not that is absolutely ok. Your writing it awesome!

Reassurance

Warnings: Panic attacks, tickling.

Summary: Tommy has a panic attack and Sapnap finds him. He brings him over to his shared house to ensure he’s alright.

Just a fair warning, I didn’t proof read this.

———————————————————————

The weather outside was beautiful. The sky was clear with the occasional cloud, the cool temperature of fall wrapped around Tommy as he sat on the grass. Which would’ve been nice on a normal day, but this was not a normal day. There was nothing special about today itself, just an off day for Tommy.

For him, the sky was mocking him, the sun causing him to need to shield his eyes. The weather was just cold enough to cause chills to run through his system. The leaves crunching beneath every foot step taunted him, telling him the sad story of a boy and a beach.

Tommy felt his throat tighten as tears stung his eyes. The familiar feeling of not being able to catch his breath caught up to him and before he knew it, he was seated on the ground, rocking himself back and forth.

His thoughts swirled into a hideous symphony of untrustful men. Dream, Techno, Wilbur, even his own father. He was betrayed by them all. He had no one to call his family, practically orphaned for his own safety.

He held these people in his thoughts as he sobbed and gasped for air. He knew he should’ve known better than to come out on a day like this. He was always prone to overstimulation and had never learned how to deal with such intense feelings.

His nails dug into the palm of his hand from where he had them in fists. He hit the ground, suddenly overcome with anger, only to hit a pinecone and feel pain shoot through his hand.

He broke down even more, of course that pinecone had to be placed right where he chose to sit. What kind of idiot doesn’t realize what’s around them? How could he have been so foolish as to physically lash out in his anger fueled haze? He screamed, completely overwhelmed. And, that’s when a light appeared at the end of the narrow tunnel.

“Hello?” An unknown voice called out from somewhere in the woods.

Tommy’s head shot up, “H-Hello.” He called back to them. His voice was quieter than he anticipated and rough from the past few minutes.

He heard the crunching of leaves getting closer to him and couldn’t help but feel hopeful that it may be someone who would love him. At least for a little while.

“Oh my god.”

Tommy turned his head to see who’d spoken. The figure of Sapnap stood in the vision. The man looked slightly frightened.

“Sapnap,” Tommy cried as he pushed himself up to his knees. Sapnap met him half way, taking the boy in his arms as his body, once again, was wracked with cries.

Sapnap held Tommy tightly in his arms. If he had it his way, he’d never let go of the broken image in front of him. “Shh, shh. It’s alright, Tommy. It’s all going to be okay.” He tried to calm the boy. He gently rubbed his back, hoping to help ground him.

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy stuttered out, feeling guilty for taking Sapnap’s time.

Sapnap shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Please let me help you.” He tightened his embrace around Tommy as if scared he’d disappear.

Together, they went through calming exercises such as counting and knowing your surroundings. Once Tommy had calmed down, he was absolutely exhausted. Him and Sapnap sat on the forest floor and Tommy laid down to set his head in Sapnap’s lap.

Sapnap carded a hand through Tommy’s hair as he leaned back on a nearby tree. “I’m proud of you, Tommy. That was a hard thing to go through and you got through it.” He said genuinely.

Tommy wiped at his eyes, but weakly smiled nonetheless. “Thank you.” He sniffled, “Everything just got up to me, I guess. It’s so loud and it’s cold, and it’s too bright sometimes, and no one will stay with me.” He rambled on, feeling his breath puck back up.

Sapnap set a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I understand, things can pile up. But you have to talk to someone, Tommy, and I’d be glad to be that person.”

A pink hue dusted Tommy’s cheeks at the kind words. “Yeah. That’s good with me, or whatever.” He cleared his throat, looking away from his friend.

Tommy heard Sapnap laugh and felt a hand ruffle his hair.

“Alright.” Sapnap clapped his hands, “We’ve got to get you home, you’re absolutely freezing.”

Sapnap felt his heart tug at the scared look on Tommy’s face. “You can stay with us for a bit, we don’t mind.” He patted Tommy’s shoulder and guided him to stand.

The pair walked to Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity’s shared home. They exchanged small talk about various topics on the short walk. In no time, they’d made the journey.

Tommy was nervous. He didn’t know how Quackity and Karl would feel about him intruding in on their private time like this. He was prepared to be turned away to his own house as Sapnap opened the door.

“I’m home! And we have company!” Sapnap shouted to his fiancés. He gave Tommy a reassuring smile.

Karl was the first to greet them, running down the stairs and into Sapnap’s arms. “Sap! How was the trip?” He broke from their embrace and laid his eyes on Tommy.

“Tommy!” Quackity exclaimed, walking into the room with open arms. He took Tommy into a hug, squeezing him quickly before letting go.

“I didn’t see you there, Tom.” Karl said, also giving the boy a quick hug. “What brings you here?”

Tommy looked to Sapnap, who took the hint and answered for him. “Tommy is going to stay with us for a little. I’d feel better having him here with us, if that’s alright with you two of course.”

Quackity’s eyes lit up, “Of course! Thomas, a man after my own heart! Let me show you around.” He swung an arm around Tommy and proceeded to show him around the house. Luckily, the trio had a guest bedroom that was always ready to be used for times like these. Surprisingly, Tommy wasn’t the first person to come to their house under similar circumstances. All three of the men knew what was up, even if two of them were a little confused.

Karl and Sapnap stood by the door, Sapnap waited until Tommy was well out of earshot to explain to Karl what had happened. Karl was very sympathetic, completely understanding and vowing to cheer the boy up as much as he could.

Quackity was later filled in after dinner on the entire situation. All four had eaten together, Karl and Tommy left the other two to do the washing up. Quackity’s reaction was similar to Karl’s, very understanding. He promised to make Tommy feel as comfortable as possible.

Later that night, the four were watching a movie in the trio’s two king sized mattresses that had been pushed together. The bed had plenty of room for the four of them to fit comfortably. Sapnap was beside Tommy, who was beside Karl, who was beside Quackity. Sapnap had made the joke that it was a Tommy and Karl sandwich as he took his spot.

Tommy had been purposely placed beside Karl because he was the touchiest of the group, and therefore would provide the most comfort to the teen.

The atmosphere was calm as the movie played. Everyone was engrossed, well, almost everyone. Karl had gotten bored and decided to cause some light mischief.

He used his hand that had been around Quackity to move closer to the man’s sides. He stayed still for a moment to avoid suspicion before poking once at the skin.

Quackity flinched, looking at Karl, who had turned his attention back to the TV. Quackity leaned further into his fiancé and did the same.

After a moment, Karl moved so his hand was in the same position on Tommy’s side. He poked the boy’s side just how he’d done with Quackity.

Tommy flinched with a quiet squeak, quickly covering his mouth and looking at Karl. Karl had a fond smile on his face, even as he turned back to the movie. The reaction was undoubtedly adorable.

Karl didn’t wait very long to pinch once at both of their sides. Tommy yelped, curling slightly. Quackity batted at Karl’s hand, a giggle seeping out.

“Kaharl,” Quackity said, “You’re being mean,” He whined.

Karl gasped. “Mean. Mean? This would be being mean.” He skittered his hand across Quackity’s belly, paying close attention to the spots that made him squeal.

“KAHAHaharl! My lohohove, plehehease!”

Karl awed but shook his head. “I’m just demonstrating.”

Tommy was flustered to say the least. Seeing someone get tickled to pieces right beside him was not something he was expecting. He yelped as Karl’s hand started to move to his belly as well.

“Don’t worry, Tommy. I didn’t forget about you.” Karl said, digging gently into the flesh.

Tommy quickly dissolved into giggles. The spot and method being quite pleasant. He melted into the touch, not making much of a move to get away.

Sapnap cooed at Tommy’s obvious compliance. “Look at you! All giggly and sweet.”

Tommy shook his head, “ ‘M nohohot gihihiggly!” He covered his face to try and conceal the light pink that dusted his cheeks.

“I dohohon’t knohow, Toms. Yohohou seem gihihiggly tohoho mehehe.” Quackity teased between his own laughter.

Sapnap scoffed, reaching over the squeeze Quackity’s side, “You’re one to talk.”

Now that Sapnap was leaning over Tommy, his entire torso was left vulnerable to the boy, which Sapnap didn’t take note of until he felt nimble fingers prodding at his ribs. He yelled, almost collapsing, and resigned himself to laughter. Tommy had unknowingly stumbled upon one of his death spots.

“TOHOHOMMEHEHE, NOHOHO-“

Tommy had gained confidence, now wiggling his fingers between the bones.

This came to a halt when he felt a squeeze to his knee. He gasped through his giggles. “NOHOho! Nohohot there!”

Sapnap chuckled. “Why, does it tickle?” He moved himself away from Tommy’s reach and began to quickly squeeze the muscle right above his knee.

Tommy convulsed, the sensations much stronger than the ones on his stomach. He tried to lean up, only to be blocked by Karl’s arm wrapping around him.

“I think you deserve this after the stunt you just pulled, mister.”

“I DOHOHON’T! IHIHI DOHOHON’T!” Tommy’s childlike laughter burst into the room, bouncing and filled with squeals. He brought his knees up to his chest. A squeal tore through his throat when Sapnap squeezed his hips, causing him to curl onto his side. “Plehehease, not my knehehees,” He covered his face after the plea, thoroughly flustered.

Sapnap nodded, removing his hands. “We’ll spare you, this time.” He teased.

Karl had stilled his hands on both Quackity and Tommy once the shriek had flooded the room. Leaving Quackity to recover enough to be able to reach across Karl and scratch lightly at Tommy’s neck, making the younger scrunch up with more giggles.

“I won’t!” Quackity said jokingly, his free hand going to skitter across Tommy’s lower back.

“Quackithehehe!” Whihi- NOHOHOT THEHEHERE Q PLEHEHEAHAHA-'' Tommy was lost to laughter once Quackity had drilled his fingers directly in the middle of his back. The tingles erupting and spreading up his spine.

“Awww, little Tom Tom has a ticklish back? How cute.” Karl teased.

Tommy arched his back, sticking his stomach out to be perfect for Sapnap’s hand to vibrate onto. With the tickling on both sides, his laughter went silent and he tapped Karl’s arm, signaling he was done. Karl signaled for the two to stop and cradled the boy in his arms. Sapnap and Quackity rubbed the ghost tickles off Tommy.

Tommy turned around, giggling into Karl’s chest and wrapping his arms around the man. “Thahahank yohou.”

Karl hugged him tighter, “You’re very welcome, Tommy.”

“You can come to us anytime.” Quackity explained, saying that even if they were busy, they’d all have time for him.

Before Tommy fell asleep, he caught Sapnap’s eye. Mouthing a thank you and getting a wink in return along with a kind smile.

———————————————————————

Sorry I didn’t proof read, I wrote this all today and I’m too tired to do it. But I wanted to get it out and I really enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for the prompt and I hope you enjoyed 💕

#mcyt tickle #mcyt tickle fic #tickle fic #ticklecommunity #lee!tommy #lee!tommyinnit #Ler!sapnap #Ler!karl #Ler!karljacobs #Ler!quackity #Ler!karlnapity #dsmpticklefic #dsmp tickle fic

[vrisrezis]

I just saw this picture and I need a shower fic with them 😫

I would love to take a shower with them 😕❤️

Taking a shower with Osomatsu is as calming as you’d expect.. not calming at all. As per usual, he teased you endlessly. Taking the shower head to your face, taking all the soap, or just making dirty jokes. However, despite his playfulness you felt calm. He could tell too. It’s odd, you found his teasing funny at first but eventually you’d get annoyed with him and yell at him. Not today though. You felt content, just being in the shower with him as he had a fun time himself. Maybe you were just so tired, being at work all day and not being able to see him. It made you both tired actually. Not being able to see eachother for a full day wasn’t a common occurrence. For once, he relented with his teasing. He gently asks you if he could wash your hair, and you agree. You never thought of somebody washing your hair to be some calming thing, but it was. It made you even calmer and it felt intimate even. Eventually, you two were finished, and you were ready to sleep.

Karamatsu had demanded you both take a shower, not used to him being so assertive, you agreed. He knew you needed it, you were so overworked and tired. As soon as you got in he gave you a warm hug in the water, perhaps there was something about taking a shower together that was intimate. Skin to skin, knowing nobody else would ever see either of you like this. So open and vulnerable with one another, washing eachother, kissing eachother, loving eachother. He gives you quiet affirmations, compliments, promises of loving you forever. And you do the same. There’s a look on his face, a look of desire, wanting, no- needing, a look of absolute love and adoration. He always looks at you like that, but it feels so much different now. There’s a moment where he just stares into your eyes, into your very soul. But it doesn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It feels natural, it feels right knowing that he can’t stare into you and know so much about you. He’s meant to. He’s meant for you and only you.

Choromatsu doesn’t shower with you often, you understand why. Your boyfriend was a rather shy guy, and he wanted to take things slowly. You were very stressed this particular day though, and your boyfriend had said something about taking a shower together, which is where you’re at now. You could tell he was nervous, and ended up comforting him a bit. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna.” You’d gently tell him, and he’d shake his head. He was determined to do this for you. “I’m f-fine.” He’d lie. He felt guilty, you’re the one having a bad day yet you’re the one comforting him. He gives you a kiss, to try and reassure you. You don’t believe him, but shrug it off anyways. Eventually though, he’s fine. Washing your body, with an occasional kiss on your neck and shoulder blades, he feels at peace. This is something so special to him. Quiet I love you’s on his end, he sounds much more content now, and that alone makes your day so much more worth it.

Ichimatsu quietly tugs at your shirt, mumbling something about taking off your clothes. A part of you wondered why he was so eager about taking a damn shower, but you try not to dwell on it as you take off your clothes. It’s only when you’re showering together do you understand it more. It’s quiet and calming. There’s no worries, no identical brothers. Just you and him, relaxing, being together. Nothing can ruin this moment between you two. You quietly tell him about your day as he washes your hair, and you have never felt more relaxed. Normally when you complain about your coworkers you sound more frustrated, but right now you sound a lot more calm, more tired even. He can tell this was a good idea from the very start, but he hadn’t even thought about the effect it would have on you and not just him. He quietly smiles and teases you gently for how tired you sound, but you just laugh at him, rather than teasing him back with something else.

Jyushimatsu showered with you often, and it was never something either of you thought about. Today was very different though. You were beyond tired, and for once he was too. He has been swinging that bat around all goddamn day, and for once he was feeling the effects of that greatly. Normally so quick and hyper with washing you, he did it more gently, slowly. “You tired hun?” You’d ask gently and he hums. “Mhm.” and you couldn’t help but smile. While you normally loved your hyperactive boyfriend, you can’t say you don’t mind it when he’s being calm and relaxed for once either. He had such a soft look when he was relaxed, and you couldn’t help but sigh friendly at him. For once, he wasn’t aware of you, he’s too tired to even realize you were sighing. You told him you’d wash him up, and that night you ended up cleaning both him and yourself. He sighs happily as you clean his hair with his usual open mouthed smile, and you can’t help but giggle at the man child in front of you.

Todomatsu was usually quite teasing with you. However, totty always had a knack for being able to read you well and being able to know what you needed in that moment, and that’s what led to him forcing you in the shower with him. Whenever he came home from a particularly tough day (which was rare for him lol) he loved taking showers. He was quiet for once, as to not disturb the experience you were having. Which was a good experience, he washed and massaged your back, and you quietly sigh at his actions. Pleased by his work, he smiles and leans forward to kiss your cheek. He gently asks you if you wanted to talk about whatever it is that happened, and you sigh and tell him as he intently listens. He didn’t work in sutabaa very long, but he fully understood how stressful it was dealing with certain customers and was sympathetic towards your situation. Work is tough, but you couldn’t help but feel better as your boyfriend gave you affirmations, and many cheek kisses.

#choromatsu x reader #ichimatsu x reader #jyushimatsu x reader #karamatsu x reader #osomatsu x reader #todomatsu x reader #ososan x reader #osomatsusan x reader #osomatsu san x reader

[dessarious]

How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt1

So when I was writing the last chapter of How to Not Get a Date it went full blown angst. Since that wasn’t what I wanted for that story and rewrote the chapter that I posted but the other idea decided to blow up into yet another story so here we go again.

AO3   Next

“I don’t suppose I could convince you not to steal that?” Catwoman spun around to find a girl in what looked like a dark red armored suit with black spots. In the Louvre at two in the morning. What the hell?

“And just what are you supposed to be?” The girl just gave her a sardonic smile and Catwoman couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked.

“I’m Ladybug. Hero of Paris.” The sarcastic tone was unexpected and it took her a minute to actually process the words.

“Since when does Paris have Heroes?”

“Since some megalomaniac found a Miraculous and decided to use it for his own selfish desires. If not for the fact that he targets people with strong negative emotions I wouldn’t care what you do. But since the last time the curator of this exhibit was Akumatized it was a three day battle, I would really like to avoid it if I can.” She just continued to frown at the girl. That couldn’t be real.

“Did Harley and Ivy put you up to this?” That just got her confused frown mirrored back at her. She was either a really good actress or she wasn’t lying.

“Look, this exhibit is moving to London in under two weeks. Could you please just wait until it leaves Paris to take whatever it is you’re after?” This was so strange. She claimed to be a hero but didn’t seem to care that Catwoman was stealing, just that it would become her problem. Even most of the bats frowned upon that sort of thing.

“So you’re just going to let me walk out of here like nothing happened?” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, refusing to make eye contact.

“The police have made it clear that it is not my job to apprehend criminals.” There was a lot of anger under those words. Catwoman walked up to the girl and gently lifted her head so she could study her. Seriously, what was it with black hair and blue eyes? Between the bats and Superman she was starting to wonder if it wasn’t a coincidence.

“When was the last time you slept?” She watched Ladybug’s eyes unfocus as she searched for the answer. “How about the last time you ate?” That produced a flinch.

“I can take care of myself.” Well that wasn’t a good reaction. The girl reminded her a bit of Tim and Jason. The sleep deprivation was all the baby CEO but the amorality screamed mister gun nut.

“I’m sure you can. I’ll tell you what; I’ll do what you want but in return you’ll come with me to meet a couple of my friends and let us feed you.” She hesitated but Catwoman didn’t see any worry in her expression. She wasn’t scared of being alone with criminals so it was likely pride holding her back. “I want to talk to you more about the situation here. It’s odd that I haven’t heard about it.”

“No it’s not. The Miraculous magic is very good at containing itself. Very few people outside of Paris have any idea what is going on.” That tone was odd. There was a trace of bitterness but it was mostly resigned.

“How old are you?” The way she held herself said she was experienced in what she did, but everything else screamed that she was still just a kid.

“Old enough to do what must be done.”  Yep, she was dealing with a baby.

------------------------------------------------------

“Will you quit worrying? I’m sure everything’s just fine.” Ivy just shot Harley an annoyed glance. She loved the woman to death but she really needed to take things a bit more seriously sometimes.

“She’s two hours late Harls, that’s a time frame for worry. Not to mention I’ve felt off ever since we got here. There’s something wrong with this city and I don’t like it.” She was constantly on edge and her skin felt like it was trying to crawl off her body. Ivy wanted nothing more than for Selina to get back so they could leave. Sightseeing be damned.

“As always your instincts are dead on.” She let out a relieved breath and turned to yell at Selina for trying to give her a heart attack but couldn’t manage to speak once she saw the person with her. Or rather once she felt the power coming off of them. She pulled Harley behind her and prepared for the worst. Selina was just looking at her like she was insane but the girl was studying her.

“Seriously, you’re scared of a kid?” Harley’s words made her really look at the person and that just made her more worried. Given what she felt this girl was capable of destroying the world without even trying.

“How can you not feel that? The energy radiating from her should be enough that even you should feel it.” Harley and Selina both just looked confused but the girl looked surprised.

“You can actually feel it?” Ivy just nodded. “I’ve never met anyone who could sense the Miraculous before. Whatever you sense though, I assure you I don’t mean any harm. There’s only one person I actually want to maim and I have a feeling when the time comes I won’t even be able to do that.” Well that was… odd. Even Harley was eyeing the girl like she had a screw loose.

“This is Ladybug. She’s a hero here in Paris.” Well that at least explained why she was late. “She’s asked me to hold off on my transaction until it leaves Paris.”

“And you agreed? She’s just going to go to the cops and make things more difficult for you later.” Harley’s words caused anger and hurt to flash across her expression before she controlled it.

“I said I wouldn’t. They wouldn’t take me seriously if I did anyway.” Now she saw why Selina brought her back with her. The girl looked like a stray cat. The stiff way she held herself was exactly like a cat who’d learned that people can’t be trusted, but she refused to run or show fear either. Then Ivy noticed the girls hair and eyes and almost groaned out loud. Selina had been spending so much time with her boyfriend that she was picking up his adoption preferences.

“I wanted to talk with her more about what’s going on here in Paris. We should order food since I have a feeling it’s going to be a long discussion.” Ivy saw the girl's cheeks turn pink and took the time to really look at her. She was the kind of thin that came from not eating rather than just being fit. Her mask hid any bags that might be under her eyes, but even standing still her body was swaying a little. The girl looked like she was about to pass out.

“Of course. Here, have a seat.” Ivy made chairs out of plants for everyone and the girl's face went completely blank before she turned to Selina.

“Is that normal for her?” Harley just started giggling but Selina gave Ladybug a sympathetic smile.

“Yes, Ivy has the power to control plants.” Ladybug let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank Kwami. I don’t think I’m up for another Akuma today.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley. What the hell was an Akuma?

“You’re fighting people that control plants?” The girl blinked at her in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned.

“No, it’s complicated. I haven’t had to explain this to someone in a long time so I might not make much sense.” She sat while Harley went to order food. Ivy sat across from her and noticed how she melted into the seat. She obviously wasn’t used to being comfortable. When Harley came back in the room they were about to start asking questions when a little black cat shaped creature appeared. It was emitting just as much power as the girl.

“I don’t suppose any of you are willing to spring for camembert?” Harley gave out a squeak of surprise but Catwoman just looked stunned.

“Plagg! Are you out of your mind? Not to mention how rude it is.” Ladybug couldn’t seem to decide whether to be annoyed or embarrassed.

“Given that this one steals for a living I doubt they stand on good manners. Besides, you don’t know if you don’t ask.” The cheeky tone caused an eye twitch in the girl.

“What exactly is that?” Selina hadn’t stopped staring at the creature.

“I’m Plagg, Kwami of Destruction. I power the Black Cat Miraculous.” The girl actually threw her hands up in frustration.

“Tikki’s going to kill us both. Of all the people you could have decided to come out for why would you choose criminals?” Poor kid sounded close to tears and the creature flew up under her chin and started purring. Selina was grinning like a mad woman. Ivy had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

“Everything will be fine Bug, you’ll see. I’m the Kwami of bad luck and I can feel yours shifting.”

“I thought you said you were the Kwami of Destruction?” Selina sounded far too amused. Ivy shook her head at the woman. She still didn’t understand how no one else could feel the danger here.

“I’m both, just as Tikki is the Kwami of Creation and Good Luck, which is the Miraculous that gives Ladybug her powers.” The Kwami suddenly flew right up to Ivy to study her. “You’re an interesting being. Your abilities are inherently creation but you use them to destroy as well. She could be a good influence for you Bug.” Ladybug let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not using your powers to smite the people you think have wronged me Plagg. And I would really like to stop having this argument.”  

“You act like it’s an opinion rather than a fact. Even Tikki agrees with me there.” The Kwami sounded indignant and more than a little angry. The energy around it was getting steadily stronger. They really needed to divert it’s attention.

“What were you saying about camembert?” The Kwami perked up immediately but Ladybug cringed.

“Kwami need food to recharge and while just about anything will do in a pinch they each have favorites. Plagg’s favorite is extremely smelly and extremely pricy cheese. Which I haven’t been able to provide for awhile now.” Plagg’s expression dropped at her tone.

“Oh kit, it’s not your fault.” The creature flew back to her and began purring again. Ladybug wouldn’t look anyone in the eye but Ivy could feel the guilt and worry coming from her. Whatever was going on this kid needed a break.

“I just need to go change. Then I can run to the store while we wait for the rest of the food.” Plagg looked ecstatic at Selina’s announcement. Ladybug looked mostly worried but there was a bit of relief under that.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was expensive. I feel bad enough, don’t let them guilt you into buying something that isn’t really necessary.” Selina scoffed.

“I know exactly how temperamental some creatures are about food and given Ivy’s reaction I’d like to stay on their good side for the moment. Besides, the money isn’t an issue.” She was walking out of the room before the girl could respond. Instead she frowned at Plagg who was still looking after Selina.

“I thought we agreed no more surprises.”

“Tikki and Wayzz agreed, I didn’t. Besides, an opportunity is presenting itself that we don’t want to miss.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley, who just shrugged at her. Ladybug seemed just as clueless about what they meant. That couldn’t be a good thing.

AO3      Next

#Gotham Sirens #MLB DC Crossover #marinette dupain cheng #Selina Kyle #Harley Quinn #Poision Ivy #mom squad

[flames-tstuff]

Okay so, um, I hope you don’t mind me requesting something! ^.^ 💕 You always support me and I wanna support you too!

So, Uraraka and Ojiro. Fluff & Tickles. The idea is that Uraraka is stressed out and one way she copes is by coloring, and Bakugou or whoever sees her and teases her, then Ojiro defends her and says like, it’s fine to be a kid sometimes, bc they’ve grown up pretty fast. And so like, the next day they go to a park and swing, he gets her ice cream, then they go back to the dorm and color while watching cartoons, and then a tickle scene happens on the cartoon, and then it leads to him tickling her and hugs and cuddles and friendship. Aaaaa 🙈

To Be a Kid Again (BNHA)

Ojiro wants to show Uraraka that it’s okay to be a kid again sometimes.

Pairings: Platonic Uraraka and Ojiro

Warnings: Bakugou being a jerk, some light angst

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: Omg this is such a cute pairing!! I've never even considered them together, either as friends or as partners. What would their ship name be? Ojiraka? Also, I've never written for either of them, so I hope this is okay!

Uraraka was tired. It had been a long day at school, and despite the fact that it was only Wednesday, she was more than ready for the weekend.

After changing out of her uniform and grabbing a couple items from her room, Uraraka flopped down onto one of the couches of the commons with a heavy sigh. She really didn’t have anything to do now that classes were over for the day. She’d already finished her homework and dinner wasn’t for another or hour or so. Despite how exhausted she was, she had just enough energy left to do one of her favorite activities to pass the time: coloring.

She didn’t know why exactly, but something about sitting down and letting herself get lost in the mindlessness of coloring had always been soothing to her. So there she was, sitting on the couch crisscross, using her knee as a table and getting to work. After a few minutes, the brain fog that had been plaguing Uraraka the last couple of hours began to disappear, and her mind was back as ease.

That was, until Bakugou came into the room. Looking just as tired and grumpy as she felt, Bakugou was about to head up to his room when Uraraka accidentally caught his eye.

“What are you looking at, Round Face?”

She quickly looked back down at her lap in alarm. “N-Nothing. Sorry.”

Bakugou continued to glare her way when he noticed the book in her lap and the pile of markers next to her. He came a few feet closer, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Tch. What are you, five years old?”

“Wh… what do you mean?”

At this time, Ojiro had just entered the commons and was just about to step into the elevator when the other students’ conversation caught his attention.

“Coloring books? Seriously? That shit’s for babies.”

Uraraka felt her cheeks start to burn.

“Hey, hey!” Ojiro jogged over to see what the commotion was about. Bakugou tended to pick fights pretty easily. “What’s going on here?”

Bakugou just crossed his arms and scowled at him.

Ojiro looked down at Uraraka, whose ears and cheeks were painted red. He then noticed the art supplies surrounding her. “Is he giving you a hard time?”

Uraraka just looked back and forth between the two of them, not daring to say anything.

“I heard you say something was ‘for babies,’” Ojiro turned to Bakugou with a stern look on his face. “You weren’t talking about coloring, were you?”

Again, silence.

“It’s really not, you know. People draw and color all the time! Besides, even if it was, what’s wrong with that? Everyone should be allowed to do things they enjoy, especially something as harmless as coloring. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is that we’re trying to be heroes!” Bakugou shot back. “Heroes shouldn’t be doing childish shit like that! If you really wanted to be a hero you’d be out training!”

Ojiro sighed, a little exasperated. “Of course training is important. But rest is important too. Doing things you love is important. If you don’t take the time to be a kid and let loose a little, you’re going to burn out. No pun intended, in your case, Bakugou.” Ojiro smiled, a little teasingly.

“Ugh, whatever,” Bakugou relented and headed back towards the elevator. “Whatever it’ll take for you to shut up and stop lecturing me.”

Uraraka and Ojiro both snickered at that, and in a few moments, it was just the two of them.

“Sorry about that,” Ojiro said apologetically. “Bakugou can be a real pain sometimes.”

“No kidding,” she agreed. “Um… thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve been okay on my own.”

“Of course you would have! But what are friends for?” Ojiro smiled brightly, holding out his hand. Uraraka smiled back and accepted the hand up. “You hungry? I think it’s about time for dinner.”

~~~

The next day was just as hard, though Uraraka did feel a little better after a good night’s sleep.

After dinner the previous night, Ojiro had asked if she’d want to hang out the next day after classes, in attempt to keep tabs on her since her fight with Bakugou. She assured him she was fine, but he insisted that it was his treat, so she obliged.

“So where are we going?” Uraraka asked walking next to Ojiro on the sidewalk.

“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places.” The two entered a chain link-fenced area.

“…a playground?”

“Yep! This was one of my favorite places in the world as a kid, and it still is. Come on! Let’s swing!”

And before she could argue, Ojiro grabbed her hand and tugged her along towards the swing set. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone else around, so they had the place to themselves.

“So,” Uraraka started, swinging her legs a little. “Why are we doing this exactly? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out! But where is this coming from?”

Ojiro laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I was thinking, well… I wanted to show you that’s it’s okay to be a kid. To let loose a little. You seemed like you needed it, especially after what happened yesterday.”

Uraraka’s heart warmed at that. She really couldn’t ask for better classmates as friends.

Ojiro’s expression dropped to something a little more serious. “I’ve realized that we’ve all had to grow up so fast in these last few years. It makes me kind of sad.”

“Why is that?” Uraraka questioned.

“Don’t you miss this kind of stuff?” He gestured to the rest of the play set. “As much as I hate it, I think you and I both know there’s some truth to what Bakugou said yesterday. Heroes are supposed to be constantly training, constantly trying to grow and improve their skills. All that’s great, but it leaves no room to be what we actually are… teens. Kids. Don’t you ever feel like you grew up too fast?”

Uraraka couldn’t help but think about her parents. How, as just a little girl, barely old enough to go to school, she committed to helping them make money in any way she could. All the experiences she’d missed out on when she was younger due to her family��s financial situation. “Yeah… I guess I do.”

Ojiro offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s why it’s times like these, in the little spare moments we have to ourselves, that we can take the time to indulge that inner child.”

Uraraka took a moment to digest his words. “I think I understand now.” Then, in a small, hopeful voice: “Maybe... a-after we’re done here, we could... um... get some ice cream?”

Ojiro grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He hopped off his swing. “Race ya!”

“Hey, no fair!” Uraraka laughed and chased after him.

~~~

After getting their ice cream—strawberry for Uraraka and vanilla for Ojiro—the two friends happily walked back to the dorms together.

“By the way,” Ojiro said, “I never got the chance to tell you, but I saw your coloring book, and well… it looks really good!”

“Oh!” Uraraka looked down, a little embarrassed. “Hah, thanks…”

He could tell she did believe him. “I’m being serious! I think it’s really cool that you’re into that kind of stuff. Have you always liked coloring? You seem to be good at it.”

“Yeah, but I really can’t take much credit. I mean, it’s just filling in the shapes. It’s not like I drew it,” she reasoned, licking her ice cream.

“Hey, I can hardly stay in the lines, so it’s impressive to me.”

Uraraka laughed, knowing he was probably just saying that to make her feel good, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she said, speaking as sincere as possible. They had made it back to the common area of the dorms where they stood, waiting to depart to their own rooms. “For everything.”

Ojiro realized she thought he had brought her back here to say goodbye. “Hey, if you want, you can hang in my room.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! We could watch TV, or if you have homework to work on, I won’t bother you.”

She smiled. “I’d love that. Thanks again, Ojiro, you’re the best.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Ojiro was a little taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture.

The two friends sat comfortably on his bed with their backs against the wall. The TV droned on in the background, mostly forgotten, as they chatted about school and their weekend plans.

Once the conversation died out, they settled down to watch what was playing on the screen, falling into comfortable silence. One of the characters poked the other, making them jump back and laugh. Ojiro smiled at the scene and stole a quick glance at Uraraka to see how she was doing, just in time to see her blush a little at the sight. It was so brief, if he hadn’t looked at just the right moment he would’ve missed it.

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Ojiro darted his hands to Uraraka’s sides and began squeezing, making her squeal and fall back on the bed in a fit of happy giggles.

“Ohohjiroho! Eeeep! Whaha—Why? Hahaha!”

“Because! I wanna hear you laugh! Didn’t I tell you to start letting loose?”

Uraraka was too weak and giddy to respond or do much more than weakly bat his hands in a half-hearted attempt.

Ojiro made the mistake of coming closer to get better purchase on her ribs, and Uraraka pushed through the tickly feeling just enough to be able to reach a hand up and scratch at the base of his spine, making him yelp and jerk away. This gave Uraraka just enough time to gain the upper hand by pushing him down and straddling his waist with her knees.

“Uraraka, wa-HAHAHAIT!” he burst into loud belly laughter as she began kneading up and down his torso the same way he had done to her.

“Maybe you should start taking your own advice, Ojiro!” she laughed with him. “Come on, you shouldn’t be afraid of being a kid again, right? Tickle tickle!”

This made his cheeks turn bright red and his laugh go a few pitches higher.

Uraraka was feeling all-powerful with Ojiro now at her mercy. That was, until she felt a soft, feathery feeling against her neck and under her chin, making her flinch and snort.

“Ohohoh my gohohosh, you snohorted!” Ojrio teased through his own laughter.

“N-no fahahair!” Uraraka stammered out as best she could. “You shohouldn’t be allowed t-to use your tahahail!”

“Wehehell too bahad! I’m using it!”

The two stayed like that, trying to out-tickle each other—Uraraka going at his ribs and belly, and Ojiro trying his best to throw her off using his tail to brush all over her neck and sides, both laughing hysterically. Eventually Uraraka was weakened just enough for Ojiro to get her back one last time before they both collapsed in exhaustion.

“Jeez, you don’t give up easy, do you?” Uraraka panted, a big smile still on her face.

“No,” Ojiro agreed. “But you held out pretty long too, I’m impressed.”

After finally catching their breath, Uraraka opened her arms in offering. “Cuddles?”

Ojiro couldn’t have refused the offer if he tried. “Heh. Yeah, cuddles.”

He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her torso, leaning his head into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting her head atop his.

And there they stayed for the rest of the evening.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #ojiro mashirao #ler!ojiro #lee!ojiro #switch!ojiro #uraraka ochako #ler!uraraka #lee!uraraka #switch!uraraka #hurt/comfort #bnha fluff #flame writes #flames stuff #requests #request #writing requests #asks #ask #flame answers #made-by-jade-222 #ojiro #uraraka #bnha mashirao #bnha ochako

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 28 – You Can Never Go Home Again

Chapter 1     Chapter 27

“Okay Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” the doctor said pushing away from the hospital bed in the birthing center and pulling off her gloves.  “You are completely effaced.  We are definitely ready to go.”

Marinette looked up at Dick, an absolutely panicked expression on her face before looking over to the doctor.  “What?  What about an epidural?  We had a birthing plan.  It included an epidural.”

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look and shook her head slightly.  “I understand, but it appears the universe had other plans.  We are too far along for an epidural.  You’re going to be pushing before the anesthesiologist will even be able to get here.”

“Fuck you,” she scoffed.  Her eyes immediately widened at her words.  “I’m sorry that was… I’m sorry.  Doctor Graham, was it?” she clarified.  The doctor nodded.  Marinette smiled in response, which quickly turned into a grimace and scream as another contraction hit.  “Fuck you, Dr. Graham,” she growled.

“There isn’t any way to get the anesthesiologist up there faster?” Dick tried, desperate for any way to help Marinette feel less scared and less pain.

Dr. Graham chuckled at Marinette’s outburst.  “I get that a lot.  Unfortunately, no.  There’s nothing I can do.  The anesthesiologist is with another patient right now and won’t be able to get here for about twenty minutes or more.  I expect at least the first baby to already be born by then, maybe both,” she informed them earnestly.  “Sorry. It took too long to get you here.”

“Well sorry for getting kidnapped by some bird obsessed cult,” Marinette gritted out after another contraction passed.

Dr. Graham looked over to Dick who shrugged at her.  “The bats just saved her and we rushed right here.”  Dr. Graham shook her head.  Honestly, not the strangest thing she’d heard in Gotham. “We will need extra security because of it,” Dick added.

“We can have police in with the babies,” Dr. Graham assured him.

“Oh Hell no,” Marinette grunted.

“Police officers were the ones to deliver her to the cult,” Dick explained, running his hand up and down Marinette’s arm in a soothing motion.

Dr. Graham nodded, again, not too surprising.  “Do you have an alternative?” she asked as she gave orders to the nurses to get the room set up for the birth.

Dick shrugged distractedly, his focus on the pained expression Marinette was making and the way her body was curling in pain.  “We can work something out.  The bats seemed to know something about the cult.  They might be willing to help keep watch.”

“Yeah, maybe we can focus on the baby trying to come out right now, yeah?” Marinette growled between pants.

“Of course,” Doctor Graham said kindly.  “We’re already getting everything ready and I’ll let you know when to start pushing.”

Marinette nodded silently.  She looked over to Dick, her look of annoyance with the situation turning to a look of panic.  She was not ready for this.  She was not ready for the twins to be born.  She didn’t have everything settled.  She and Dick hadn’t talked.  She didn’t know where they stood.  They hadn’t talked about where they were going to stay.  She hadn’t even processed the kidnapping yet.

“It’ll be okay,” he cooed at her soothingly.  He took her hand in his, bringing it to his chest as he wiped her sweaty hair away from her face.  He looked lovingly in her eyes and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek.  “You can do this.  You’re the strongest person I know.  You’re amazing.”  He kissed her temple.  “I’ll be right here to support you however I can.  Feel free to try to break my hand while you push.”

Marinette huffed out a short laugh.  “I might take you up on that.”  She breathed through another contraction, squeezing his hand and groaning loudly as it crested.

“Go ahead,” he assured her.  “I can take it.  I have the easy part.”  He gave her a soft smile, until she turned to face the doctor and grimaced while her focus was elsewhere.  She might actually break his hand at this rate.  “Just focus on the end.  When this is all over, we’re going to have two beautiful babies just as amazing as their mother.”  She looked back up at him, uncertainty clear, but fading.  “The universe can’t take you down.  The Court of Owls couldn’t take you down.  You can do this,” he whispered confidently.  She nodded at him, a look of determination settling in as she felt the start of the next contraction.

“Alright Ms. Dupain-Cheng.  It’s time to push,” Dr. Graham informed her with a smile.

<><><><><> 

“I’ve been thinking…” Dick started, looking over cautiously to Marinette.  She was sitting in a glider in the twins’ NICU room attempting to nurse Robert.  Robert was doing extremely well, but his sucking reflex was still developing, making latching on more difficult for him than it was for Lucy.  Lucy was resting comfortably on Dick’s bare chest, enjoying skin to skin contact under the simulated sun lamps.  Her black hair sticking up above the blanket wrapped around her and Dick.

Marinette gave him a tired smile.  “About?” she prompted.

“Living arrangements when Lucy and Robert are ready to go home.  Robert’s doing a lot better now.  I think he’ll be ready to go home in a few days.  Lucy will probably be ready sooner,” he answered, turning to be able to make eye contact with Marinette while they talked. It had been a few days since the twins had been born and they still hadn’t had a chance to really talk. Between the coordination of taking care of the twins and making sure there were eyes on them at all times and the exhaustion on Marinette’s system from delivering the babies and after the kidnapping, there hadn’t really been time.

“Dick, I…” she started looking away guiltily.

“I know you’re not ready to date let alone move back in together,” he assured her gently, “this isn’t about that,” he assured her gently.  “This is about their safety.  The Court of Owls isn’t eliminated.  They have multiple strongholds.  This was a hard hit, but they aren’t gone.”  He ran his hand through his hair and looked away nervously. “I don’t even think the apartment is safe.”

“The prophecy,” she nodded, tickling Robert’s cheek to try to get him to open his mouth wider.  “This isn’t over is it?”  

Dick shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  It’ll take a while for them to recover, but I think they’ll be back.”

She sighed sadly and tried to focus entirely on Robert so Dick wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes at the thought of them returning, the thought that they would never truly be safe until the Court was completely eliminated.  She ran her hand over his curly black hair.  Whereas Lucy had gotten her mother’s straight, thick black hair, Robert’s was closer to his father’s.  Little curls licked his face and curled away.  “So, what were you thinking?”

Marinette may have turned away from Dick, but he still knew her well enough to know she was terrified and trying to hide it.  He could see it in the way she hid her face.  He could see it in the way her shoulders curled around Robert.  He could see it in the way she held him just a little closer.  He moved so he was sitting next to her and could cup her face with his free hand.  

“We’ll keep them safe, Marinette.  We won’t let anything happen to them,” he assured her.  The fierce determinism in his voice made her want to believe him. They would do everything they could to protect their babies.  She leaned into his hand and nodded.  “So, what I was thinking was… we should make sure they are as safe as possible.” She gave him a confused look, unsure why he suddenly sounded so tentative.  “And the most secure place I can think of… is the manor.”

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape in surprise. “You think we should move into the manor?” she whisper shouted.  “Dick, I don’t want to live in Bruce’s home for the rest of our lives.”

“I know, I know.  It’s not ideal,” Dick conceded.  Before the kidnapping, he certainly would never have expected to propose returning to the manor.  He had moved out for a reason and now, with Marinette and the twins, there were even more reasons not to.  But, there was one overwhelming, overpowering reason they should.  “But, it’s the safest place in Gotham, probably New Jersey, possibly in all of America.  He has a ton of security to ward off cults, rogues, magicians, assassins, and everything else he could think of.”

“And it’s so big!  What if the twins play hide and seek in a few years and we never find them?  That place is too big,” she exclaimed.

“Okay, good point,” he allowed.  It wasn’t and they both knew it.  There was no way they, Kismet, or Alfred wouldn’t be able to find them, but he wasn’t going to argue that point.  His focus was to get the twins under the best security they could manage, not get lost in the details.  Not to mention, he had actually gotten lost in the manor a few times when he first moved there, so he knew getting lost was a possibility.  It’s just that they wouldn’t stay that way.  “But what if we take Bruce up on allowing him to build us a secure home.  Our own home, with just as much security.”

“Dick!” she exclaimed loudly and immediately regretted it.  She startled Robert off his finally successful latch and woke Lucy up.  “Sorry,” she grimaced apologetically.

Dick chuckled at her and started bouncing Lucy to lull her back to sleep. “I know.  I don’t really like the idea of asking him either, but we need some place safe.  The Court of Owls is dangerous, extremely well connected, and apparently obsessed with our children.  We need top of the line security and I don’t think we could afford it otherwise.  I think it’s the only way to keep them safe.”

She stared at him silently for a few minutes.  Not really sure how to react.  He was right.  They would need security, more security than they could afford otherwise.  However, they did have built in security with the kwami, not that Dick knew about that yet.  But it also wasn’t entirely reliable.  The kwami couldn’t do much more than warn them if something was happening. They couldn’t act on it without potentially devastating consequences.

Dick spoke up after a few minutes, misinterpreting her hesitation.  “I… I can live somewhere else.  The most important thing is for you and the twins to be safe,” he offered.

“But they might come after you as well.  You’re a Grayson,” she protested.  If anything, he and the twins needed to stay under the security’s protection.

“I can stay at the manor,” he assured her.

Marinette concentrated on Robert while she thought it through, running her fingers over his curls.  She wasn’t ready to go back to the way they were.  She didn’t trust him completely yet.  Or rather, she trusted him, she just didn’t know if she trusted him with her heart.  But she did trust him to keep her and the twins safe.  She did trust him to protect them and to act respectfully.  She trusted him to want to do what was best for them.

“No… why don’t we… why don’t we stay in the manor until we figure out where we want to go?  Relationship wise.” she finally offered resolutely.  Dick nodded in understanding.  There was no reason to build a home for the two of them if they weren’t going to live together.  Marinette and the twins would need security whether she stayed with him or not, but if they decided they didn’t want to get back together she should have a home of her own, away from him.  “We can have our own rooms and the twins can stay in mine for the first few months, until the likelihood of SIDS is lower.”

“Bruce has a few very large rooms in the manor, would you… how would you feel about us both staying in the room with the twins, but in different beds?  That way I can help better and you don’t have to do all the work by yourself,” he offered cautiously.  He didn’t want to scare her off by pushing too hard or rushing her.

Marinette studied him uncertainly.  That seemed awfully intimate, but at the same time, it would allow her some rest.  He could change diapers and help get them back to sleep…  “We can try it…”

“But if you start to feel uncomfortable, I can move to another room, immediately,” he assured her.  

Marinette nodded in agreement.  “Okay”

Dick smiled again, a relieved, excited smile.  He knew there was a lot to do.  He knew he still had a long way to go, but they were making progress.  They weren’t as bad as he thought they had been. “I know I have a lot to make up for and a lot to prove.  I know I messed up and I want to fix it.”

“What do you think you messed up,” she asked curiously.  

“I think I was so afraid of losing you, I got obsessed with eliminating any threats that might hurt you.  I… I couldn’t lose you like I lost my parents,” he answered honestly.  “That’s not an excuse,” he insisted quickly.  “It’s not an excuse because I know it doesn’t excuse my behavior.  It’s just my reasoning.  I didn’t even realize it until Lucius pointed it out at the fashion show.  He also pointed out that you wouldn’t have let me go. You would have pulled me out of my obsession, and I knew that.  So that’s why I didn’t tell you.

“I think that’s what I need to fix.  We’re supposed to be a team.  We were supposed to be in a relationship, but I was cutting you out.  I saw that I was hurting you, but I convinced myself I was saving you from something worse.  I think I messed up by cutting you out of my life.  I’m going to change that.”

She nodded at him with tears in her eyes.  “Okay.  You know it wasn’t the secrets, right?  You were allowed to have secrets.  I didn’t begrudge you that.  Hell, I have secrets I haven’t told you yet.”  She looked down at Lucy when she started making whimpering noises.  “Trade me,” she motioned for Lucy and held Robert out for him to take.  He gently handed Lucy off to Marinette to nurse and took Robert, loosening his swaddle so they could do skin to skin time.  “I want us to get to the point we don’t have secrets from each other, but we both deserve the time to figure out when we’ve reached that point.”

After a few minutes bouncing Robert, Dick looked back to Marinette with an open, vulnerable expression.  “I spoke with Commissioner Gordon,” he started slowly.  “And I quit the Titans.  I’m going to become a police officer in Gotham.  I’ll be here from now on.  There might still be things I can’t tell you because it’s police business, but you’ll know why I can’t tell you now.  And I know that doesn’t make up for everything I’ve done, but it’s a start.”

“Dick! You didn’t have to give up something you love for me!  That’s ridiculous.  Whether we get back together or not, you shouldn’t give up things you love to make someone else happy,” she exclaimed desperately.  The last thing she wanted was for him to give up parts of himself, parts that mattered to him, parts he might be bitter about having given up later.

Dick shook his head emphatically.  “I didn’t do it for you.  Well, not just you.  I was miserable whenever I was away.  I hated missing you and the twins.  I… I didn’t want to miss out on their lives like I missed out on the pregnancy.  I don’t want them growing up without me.” He sat back down next to her again to look her in the eye again, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. “I won’t lie.  I want to go back to the way we were, but without the leaving and the lies.”  

He brushed her bangs out of her face and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I love you and waking up to you in my arms is one of the best parts of my life in the last few… years really. Kissing you, touching you, seeing your smile.  All of the things I got to do with you were magical.  I’d love to get that back, but I know I have work to do to get there. And I’m willing to put in the effort.”

“Dick…” she rested her head in the crux of his neck, angling Lucy away while she did.  “It’s going to take a while.”

“I know.  And I know we might never get back there, but I want to try.”  He kissed the top of her head and rested his head on hers.

Marinette looked back up at him and nodded.  “Let’s focus on getting the twins healthy and learning how to be parents. Then we can see how things feel.”

Dick smiled gently.  “Okay.”

She shook her head and turned her head back to rest against his neck.  “I owe Adrien 100 euros.  I bet him I wouldn’t end up with a hero.”

“Technically I’m a vigilante.  And we’re not together,” Dick corrected with a smirk, “… yet.”

She stared at him for a few moments before nodding resolutely.  “You know what?  I’ll take it.”

Chapter 29

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - home

[bigskydreaming]

#when i read about tim i often kind of come to the idea that he's relatively self centered#and that can be both a flaw and a strength#but he doesn't often consider other people's feelings and circumstances#like when dick made damian robin he didn't really consider the situation from anyone else's view#or in his origin story#he doesn't seem to consider how dick would feel about hearing how tim was affected by dick's parents' death#or with the spyral situation#or in regards to him earning robin#and its pretty consistent in fandom characterization even if a lot of writers don't seem to be aware of it#its interesting cause i think its something i think he has in common with bruce#its honestly a surprisingly consistent thing from what i see#and it can be a strength to#it can absolutely lead to some confidence and self actualization#as well as being able commit to fixing something and working hard at it#because you believe you can and don't think anyone else can/will do it via @emenerd

Y’know, what’s interesting to me about these points is the fact that like.....Tim having tendencies towards self-centeredness is actually something that COMPLETELY makes sense and can be quite sympathetic in light of his backstory of having neglectful parents.

In an age of armchair diagnosticians eager to label anyone who expresses a controversial viewpoint while centering themselves as an example, as like, having a narcissistic personality disorder (and with the loaded implication that this makes them a bad person even if its true, instead of just....having a disorder, yay weaponizable ableism) like, it can be important to add in distinctions that even tendencies that share overlap with a lot of things born of entitlement, etc....aren’t always necessarily proof of that.

For instance, in Tim’s case, an overemphasis on himself and his own position in situations and arguments can very reasonably be attributed as a coping mechanism he developed in an attempt to acknowledge and address self-esteem issues he sees himself as having, DUE to parental neglect.

Its not that he thinks he’s the most important person in the room, necessarily, its that he spent so many years not even being considered a person in the room, that now he OVERCOMPENSATES on his own behalf, in an attempt to remind himself that no, his opinion and feelings and situations do matter.....and because he like most of the Bat-characters has a tendency towards hyper-fixating on a problem they’re trying to address, this can also understandably create a kind of tunnel vision. Where he’s so busy focusing on what he’s diagnosed as an actual issue he has that he’s trying to address or make up for, in order to build up his self-esteem....that he neglects to keep everyone around him equally centered in his interactions with them, and remember that like, they have their own issues and ignoring that to focus entirely on his own runs the risk of negatively impacting them in the exact same way he’s still learning to cope with having been negatively impacted in his development as a child.

None of this makes him a bad person, or is stuff that can’t be addressed and developed just by paying the appropriate attention to it and his interactions.

SO the issue I tend to more often have....

Is with how often in fandom and fanon we hear references to Tim’s neglect and emotional abuse and how this impacted him.....much in the same way we see Jason and Cass and Damian and Dick’s various forms of abuse and the developmental impact it had on them....

BUT there tends to then be a disconnect, IMO, because that acknowledgment of the WHAT of Tim’s neglect and abuse and the HOW it hurt him.....isn’t often followed up by an examination/awareness of how it also SHAPED him.....at least, not compared to how discussions/fics about say, Jason’s abuse tend to point out the latter as much as the former.

And this is a big part of my gripe with the ways abuse is centered and tackled as a topic in fics and fandom discussions, because its so often capitalized upon as a defense or shield for a character from criticism, stuff like that.....without ever actually EXPLORING the topic itself, or the FULLNESS of the impact it can have.

But only in regards to some characters.

What I mean is like....we see a lot of focus on Jason’s childhood abuse, yeah? And this often is then connected through headcanons, meta and fics to various aspects of Jason’s characterization as a teenager, and as an adult as well.....with a tendency towards anger or violence, abrasive personality, etc. Don’t get me wrong, its usually presented as such in a SYMPATHETIC light, especially when raised by fans of Jason themselves.....but his abuse is very much present and centered in fics and discussions as something that not only impacted him and made him suffer, but something that actually shaped him to varying degrees as well....with a lot of focus then in fics of him as an adult, like, paid to him going to therapy and unpacking his childhood abuse in an effort to WORK on these aspects of himself that make his present day life harder or less healthy than he’d like it to be. The issue of how his abuse lent itself to various behaviorisms is raised in order to address various byproducts of his abuse as FLAWS that he seeks to eliminate, in order to make himself happier and make himself someone that people want to be around more.

And again, don’t get me wrong - for the most part, this is a GOOD thing. The caveat here is just a personal dislike I have for how often these narratives smack of a kind of saviorism, and act like it was only through the grace of Bruce and becoming part of the Batfam that Jason’s ever afforded the opportunity to better himself as a person. I dislike the hell out of this because it not only pairs all too well with a lot of classist shit, it feeds into the singular narrative we’re so often presented with by media about abused kids: the myth of the victim being destined to become a victimizer, it all being an inevitable cycle. The reason this myth is so easily perpetuated is the exact reason I’m so critical of the saviorism in a lot of abused-Jason fics.....people can very easily fall into the trap of assuming that abused kids are likely to grow up to be abusers because they never have anyone to TEACH them that abuse is wrong, or to lead by healthy example. 

The harm of this perception is that it kinda throws under the bus every kid who never lucks out and gets a Bruce Wayne style savior swooping in to not only save them from their abusive environs, but TEACH them that they deserved better and that abuse is wrong. 

Because its like, uh, the thing is, plenty of abused kids who never get a personal mentor or savior figure are fully capable of figuring out for themselves that they deserve better and that people hurting them is wrong, because it makes them feel bad and they don’t like that? 

Many abused kids don’t grow up in a media vacuum where they simply have no access to glimpses of lives different from their own.....we see kids having happier, healthier family lives on TV or in books and are able to figure out that society overall thinks that’s what family is SUPPOSED to look like, and its ours that is the aberration? 

The very fact that we’re taught or have it instilled in us by abusive parents that like, we’re not to bring up instances or examples of our abuse to teachers or friends, that its a SECRET, is like, usually a dead giveaway that there’s something WRONG with it that we’re being instructed - and enforced with abusive consequences - to keep from alerting others to....like, this is basically a blaring siren to a lot of us that no, what’s happening to us ISN’T normal and acceptable, and that’s literally WHY the parent we’re afraid of is so insistent on us keeping the facts of it hidden? 

And so like, tons of abused kids figure out for ourselves the difference between right or wrong, based off nothing more than our own feelings about things and a desire to not be like the people who make us feel miserable - like, never underestimate the power of spite to like, keep a kid from growing up doing the same thing to others that was done to them, lol. 

But point being, lots of kids never get a Bruce Wayne figure to take them away from their abuse and also teach them that they never deserved it and how not to pass the hurt forward by doing the same things to others. And its kinda condescending as fuck that we so often see narratives that take it as so obvious it barely merits commenting on, that like, ‘of COURSE abused kids grow up to become abusers if they don’t have someone else step in and show them a better way’....mmm, no. Fuck that. But you get what I mean.

So like, its a mixed bag. Its a good thing, to see Jason-centric stories that show him addressing his childhood and seeking just a more fuller, happier, healthier life for himself. Its a less great thing to see this narrative presented as all encompassing, with it never being raised that no, Jason actually could figure out he deserved better and how to treat people in ways he’d want to be treated even without a billionaire guardian angel.....NOT because the narrative wherein someone helps an abused kid figure out what was wrong about how they were treated is like, NEVER valid....but rather it just becomes a problem when looked at as a data point against the larger tapestry of fandom-wide works....and noticing that this specific narrative is pretty much the ONLY one raised or treated as valid. With it just being ASSUMED to be the natural course of events and characters, rather than just....the direction society overall has their perceptions of abuse steered towards due to a singular and constantly reinforced abuse narrative shown to us in media.

And the way this all plays back into my point about Tim and what took me down this road in general.....

Is that disconnect I was talking about, lies specifically in HOW Tim is often acknowledged and regarded as an abuse survivor due to his emotional abuse and neglect......with this abuse and its impact on HIM often taking center stage, much the way Jason’s abuse and its impact takes center stage in his narratives.....

BUT with a key difference being that while a lot of Jason’s narratives go on to denote the specific ways his abuse helped SHAPE him and his interactions with others, and raise and address the ways in which he can better himself and his relationships by unpacking all of this openly....

Most of the stories about Tim’s abuse/neglect tend to just STOP at the awareness of its existence and impact on him. Never taking it that one step further to examine how those specific forms of abuse could have additionally SHAPED him....in ways that sometimes negatively impact those around him and his own loved ones, even if this is completely unintentional on his part. The difference, the disconnect, lies solely in how rarely its ever acknowledged that Tim’s own upbringing can and does play directly into how he interacts with people later on in life.....and in ways that he’s fully capable of addressing and bettering himself so as to be happier and healthier just in his own life, and in his relationships, as someone others want to be around.

Aaaaand once you actually examine or consider WHY there’s this discrepancy between the full ramifications of Tim’s abuse and that which various siblings of his underwent, when there’s full agreement that what he did go through absolutely can be termed abusive as well....like, its the implications of what about Tim makes him more naturally resistant or whatever to being shaped by his abuse in ways that have actual negative impact on others in his life, whereas the same isn’t true of say, Jason.....that’s when the red flags start to go up for me, and the unintended subtext starts to get Less Than Stellar, IMO.

Anyway. Just food for thought on the subject of Tim, his upbringing, the various impacts this had on not JUST him but also on how he interacts with others, and ways in which all of this compares and contrasts with how the subject of abuse is raised and depicted in regards to other Batkids.

[scottfuckingreed]

It’s a Pogue thing - JJ Maybank

NOT REQUESTED

-

Warnings!: Swearing, drugs and alcohol, and SMUT!

-

“Morning guys!” I beam as the boat comes to a steady stop at the edge of my front garden. It’s almost like a routine. More often than not we sail into an open set of water. Sometimes we fish, mostly we just simply do nothing. Pope extends his hand out to help me onto the boat. It strikes me sometimes that, although we are all the best of friends, it probably seems a strange mix of people to some people. We’re the scraps of the island. The ones who no one really acknowledges. Kiara and I would technically be Kooks. Both of our families have money but it doesn’t really mean shit. Everyone from ‘our end’ are airheads. They care about nothing and no one but themselves. Pope’s parents have worked their asses off, so they’re in a stable place. They don’t understand why Pope hangs with us, and sometimes I wonder the same thing. He has a real chance of getting out of this place. John B and JJ are childhood besties. Their upbringing is similar, except John B’s technically an orphan, and JJ’s father’s a piece of shit. But that’s just pogue life.

“Is your mum still out tonight?” JJ asks, making my head slowly turn towards him. Do I even need to ask? “I mean, yeah-” “Great! We’re throwing a party,” I raise my eyebrows. “Hahahahaha, definitely not.” The last time I had a party with these idiots, so much shit broke in my house. I’m not getting grounded again. “Come on Y/N! It’s summer. We could all use a party!” I roll my eyes at his words. I open my mouth to shut him down but John B lets out a cough. “Actually, Y/N, I agree.” Kiara looks just as confused as I do. His father’s been missing for almost a year. Recently he’s been looking more in depth, which I support to a certain extent, but it’s at on overload right now. I’m surprised a party would even be on his radar. “I need to talk to Sarah Cameron.”

Sarah Cameron. She’s like Kook royalty. I don’t think she’s too bad. A bit sheltered maybe, but her and Kiara have a history. So you can imagine the change in look on her face as he mentions her name. “She mentioned something that might help me figure out what’s happened with my father. Do you think she’d come?” Okay that makes sense. Ki’s face doesn’t change, and the rest of us just glance between each other. “I mean, probably... but I don’t really wanna hang-” “I just need to talk to her, then you can call the party off,” a smile - too shiny and wide - spreads across his face. John B’s always had this affect on people. He gets exactly what he wants.

As soon as I get home I scan my house. Anything fragile, valuable, or anything of the sort needs to be hidden. Vases, mini statues, ashtrays from holidays abroad. Things that make this house a home will be locked in an upstairs bedroom. I’d like to live this life a little longer.

So here I am; picking an outfit for a party I don’t wanna go to. A party that I’m apparently hosting! Since I’m not dressing for anybody, I go for a simple short black dress. It really resembles my mood. Almost as soon as I put it on, I hear my front door shut. I jog down the stairs, adjusting my boobs into their rightful positions to come face to face with my intruder.

“You should really announce yourself or something. I thought I was gonna get murdered,” in front of me stands JJ. His outfit consists of a pair of lovely beige shorts and a colourful shirt; left open to show off that torso of course. “I could kill you,” he flirts. His eyes immediately go to my cleavage. This is nothing new. I think he’d fuck a table if it gave him the right vibe. “Hey!” I snap my fingers at him. “My eyes are up here you know.” Before I go to kick him, he makes a very boyish comment of how I look sexy and whatnot. He wanders away into the kitchen, probably to raid my fridge before the party. Let’s get this over with.

More and more people start to gather in my house. In the Outer Banks, everyone kind of knows everybody. I don’t actually know all these people, but I’ve seen them around. I close my eyes for a second, before pouring a drink for myself into a classic red cup. “Are you okay?” Ki nudges me with a smile. Ki and I are very similar people. She probably doesn’t wanna be here either. She could leave, but I know she won’t. “I just realised I’m the host, and I don’t wanna be here,” I laugh it off and hold my drink up to her. “Cheers!” I add.

After about 2 and a half drinks, I’m really starting to feel this party. The music is average. It’s the ‘for everybody’ kind which means it’s majoritively overplayed and everybody more or less knows it word for word. Despite that, and despite the fact that I didn’t really want this party to happen, I drag Ki into the dance area and boogie with her. Well- I dance, she stares at me with a concerned look on her face. “The trick is you have to pretend you’re having a good time,” I giggle into her ear in a slightly tipsy tone. Although she shakes her head, I can see her trying to contain herself from moving to the music. I take her hand and spin myself into her. Her eyes give me the ‘can I go now’ look. Grunting, I give in. “Fine! Please if you see anyone doing or touching shit they’re not meant to, beat them!” I smile innocently after my words, and she scurries faster than she should. Damn. Am I that bad of a dancer?

Music vibrates the walls. It’s been almost 2 hours since the party started and it’s actually going quite smoothly. John B has asked every 5 seconds if Sarah’s here yet. I shush him with my finger. “I promise I will let you know when I see her. Honestly, you sound a bit obsessed with her...” I chuckle. “Hey!” I poke JJ on the arm. At this point, just call me mother. “Please don’t smoke that in here,” I gesture towards the spliff in his hands. “It’s a party Y/N! Relax!” With that, I snatch it out of his hands. His face grows serious. Confusion fades as I realise it’s not aimed at me. Both JJ’s and John B’s eyes stare at the group entering my house.

First in, Sarah. Like I said, I don’t really have a problem with Sarah. She comes across a bit self centred sometimes. That’s minor.

With her, her boyfriend Topper. Topper’s a dick but I think he’s harmless. He’s honestly a pussy.

And his best friend. Her brother. My ex boyfriend. Rafe.

There’s a saying; dead things should stay buried, or something like that. That relationship should be 6 feet under, but times that by 10. I guess it was a ‘serious’ relationship. It lasted about a year. It was almost perfect at the beginning, that I can’t lie. As both of our families are respected, and very close anyway, it just seemed right. There was no disgust. He was accepted. I was accepted. We did everything a couple should; went on dates, were around each other 24/7, even did weekends away together. And we argued. The thing about Rafe is he’s an over thinker. He’s paranoid. When traits like that mix they can... make a monster. The last time he set his hands on me was about 4 months ago. I’ve avoided him like hell ever since.

“This is why I shouldn’t have a party,” I sigh. My eyes can’t seem to leave that area. It’s strange to see him. I don’t want him here. “Why’s he even here? He does have some balls,” John’s tone sounds somewhat impressed. I’m not. I’m not sure if my body is ready to cry, or laugh, or scream. Finally, I blink my eyes away, and set eyes on my two friends. Before I speak, JJ opens his mouth. “We can kick him out,” he assures me. The slight nudge on my shoulders by each boy is comforting. “It’s fine,” I sigh, taking JJ’s drink out of his hands. As much as I’d love to see Rafe get his ass kicked and thrown out, and I can promise you I would, this is my battle. I can’t avoid him forever. “Fuck,” I whisper, knowing what I’m about to do. I bring JJ’s cup up to my lips and tip the entire contents into my mouth. “Shit Y/N, I wouldn’t-” before he can warn me fully, I swallow. My eyes instantly water. “What the fuck!” I gasp at the disgusting taste. I’m sure a toilet would taste better than that. And yet, that concoction would be easier to digest than the conversation I’m about to have with Rafe.

The walk over felt somewhat unreal. As if, if this was a movie, my passionate walk would be in slow motion. Between the music and my racing heart, my dramatic ‘I am the main character’ strut was complete. If only I wasn’t totally shitting myself. A brave face Y/N. Just fake it.

And then I’m in front of them. Perhaps my slow motion moment wasn’t quite slow enough. It could’ve been everlasting for all I care. “Hey Sarah,” I smile. Her sympathetic smile is warming, but ultimately useless in this situation. I doubt Rafe told her the whole story, but I can imagine she knows too well what he can be like. Maybe he even made something up. I wouldn’t be surprised. She drifts away rather quickly. I don’t know what the deal is with her and John B, but I imagine Topper intends to watch her like a hawk. He’s that type of guy. Topper doesn’t even speak, just stands slightly behind as if he’s one of Rafe’s minions. To be honest that kind of describes him perfectly. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe just has him around to lick his ass. When I have to, I finally look at Rafe’s face. “What are you doing here?” I ask. My eyes scan everywhere on his face but his eyes. The thought of doing that makes me uncomfortable. “It’s a party Y/N,” the smirk on his face screams fuckboy. “Plus, I wanted to see you,” he raises his hand to my face, going to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. My hand forcefully bats his away, making a loud slap sound; even over the music. “I’ve missed you,” he leans closer so his shouting can quieten a little. My limbs instantly tense at his words. Somehow it makes me feel kind of sick thinking about it... thinking about us. The fact that it was a thing is just... “You need to leave Rafe,” my attempt to sound blunt and assertive is a massive fail. Instead my voice echoed in a wobble, making me sound weak and pathetic. “You don’t mean that, come on-” his hand wraps around my wrist, taking my back to a time I’ve tried desperately hard to forget. I pull my arm away once, but his grip holds too strong. As I go to pull away again, a pair of large hands push against Rafe’s chest. “What the fuck man?!” Topper’s voice erupts from Rafe’s shadow. A henchman fighting his duties. I turn to see JJ, red faced, standing with a threatening stance. “We don’t want no trouble JJ, my girl here is just being a tease,” Rafe’s tone is patronising. “Leave it, JJ,” my right hand gently squeezes his left shoulder. “Let’s get a drink, Topper,” I wanted him to leave, but I watch him walk towards my kitchen. I hate that he’s in my house, but at least he’s away from me. For now.

I fade away. Without full control, my body makes it’s way upstairs. Just to breathe for a second. Almost as soon as I drop my body onto my bed, the door reopens. Startling me, I come face to face with JJ. “Hey,” his voice rings soft. When he closes the door behind him, the music becomes muffled. Peaceful. I press my lips together into a forced smile. “Should I tell everyone to fuck off home?” He gestured towards the door. I shake my head, cracking a smile. “It’s fine. I just needed a minute away from... that,” his arm extends, a red cup at the very end. I screw my face up at the smell. “How do you drink this?” Just from sniffing it, I feel myself getting more and more tipsy. “If you need it, it goes down quite easily-” he pauses as I take it. “Plus I’m really cool and manly so.” “Ah, of course.” A big part of my body (probably my stomach and liver) starts screaming no. I have no idea what alcohol is in this cup. I know it’s a lot. After this cup, I will probably be more or less gone. A micro part of me says fuck it. That’s the part I listen to. The liquid burns down my throat, and yet it strangely goes down quite smoothly compared to the first.

“I am sorry about Rafe,” JJ has taken a seat next to me on my bed. Usually I’d banish people away from my room, but I feel like JJ saved me tonight. He’s a bit of a prick at times, and an absolute idiot, but I trust him. Maybe I trust him too much. “It was gonna happen at some point,” I shrug. “He’s such a pussy,” when I start laughing at JJ’s words, I realise that the alcohol may have sunk in. A hiccup escapes my mouth. “Fuck.” I whisper to myself as my smile fades. I’m an idiot to have ever gotten with him. Young and dumb maybe. “Hey...” JJ rests his hand on my knee and squeezes gently. My body, in my tipsy state, reacts to this motion is a strange way. Why did that just give me butterflies? He’s only comforting me. My eyes drift up to look at him properly. Is he... leaning in?

I stand up before he gets close. I rub my eyes frantically. Maybe I’m about to wake up from a nap or something. “I’m sorry... I just...” I breathe. The crazy thing is, I felt it too. My body is reacting in crazy ways right now. I think I’m turned on? By JJ? That’s something I never thought I’d say. I mean... he’s hot. I’m not blind. I guess I’ve never looked at him like that. But I am now. I’m looking at the blonde hair, and the jawline, and the smile. Okay, that’s enough. I’m just in shock of seeing Rafe again. That’s it: “Pogue on Pogue isnt allowed,” I state, mainly to myself. I need massively convincing right now. I need JJ to tell me that I got the wrong idea. Tell me it’s disgusting and I’m too much like a sister. We’re meant to be family. Come on Y/N! That’s gross! Before he says anything, he shrugs. That damn fucking shrug. In my state of mind, it’s attractive. “I don’t really care,” that’s it. I’m convinced. I needed him to say something else, but that’s ultimately the answer I hoped for. “Me neither.”

I practically jump onto him, straddling him and crashing my lips onto his. The softness, yet passion, against my lips is something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt. This should feel wrong. Only, as JJ’s hands smooth up and down my body before sitting on my waist, it couldn’t feel more right. Without a second thought, I glide my tongue into his mouth. I can sense it takes him by surprise. The most attractive moan escapes him, which I can imagine was not intentional. The kiss proceeds to get more and more intimate. Somehow we just move in sync. He slowly lays back, our lips not separating once before he’s fully beneath me. Maybe JJ was previously holding back, but a rush of ‘horny teenage boy’ suddenly rushes over him. Both hands go to my ass. As much as I don’t want to fall apart under his touch so fast, the immense pleasure radiates through my body. I break away from his kiss slightly and moan massively into his mouth.

We stop kissing for a second. Our heavy breaths bounce against each other. It’s a strange moment to be in. Was this always bound to happen at some point? “Should we stop?” Confusion hits as he speaks those words, and yet he proceeds to trail kisses down my neck. I push his head down onto the pillow with my right hand cupping his chin, bringing my face close enough to his that our noses are pretty much touching. “Do you want to?” I simple ask. I’d be almost offended by his words, but only if his hands weren’t grinding me down onto his crotch. Perhaps it’s a guilty conscience. We are both massively likely to regret this in the morning. We are also likely to get caught and get grief from our small circle of friends. They are good enough reasons to stop. They are good enough reasons for this to have never started to happen in the first place. They just don’t amount to one thing, and that’s that I want this right now. His head begins to move side to side. I can’t help but begin to smile massively. “Then shut up and fuck me.”

It was as if that was a jump start. JJ’s manly hands flip us over immediately. I let out a giggle as he begins to undo his shorts. The speed of the removal of both his shorts and boxers was impressive. They get thrown wherever they go. My eyes quickly glance at his penis, before looking back up to his eyes. I suck in my bottom lip before pulling him back down to kiss me again. This shouldn’t be this easy. His tongue slides back into my mouth, battling with mine for dominance, all too easily. I’m not even a little bit nervous... until I feel his fingertips glide up under my dress. He hooks his finger under the waist band of my thong and does nothing for too long. It might’ve only been seconds, but those seconds were some of the longest seconds of my life. He pulls them off ever so slowly. I was becoming a literal puddling mess beneath him.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows he has me wrapped around his finger right now. His tongue plays against mine skillfully; slow and passionate. He’s doing everything right. Once my underwear finally reaches my feet, I just can’t hold it back anymore. “Are you done teasing me now?” I practically beg. I’m soaked, a mess, and almost fully sober. If anything, I wanted this more now than I did when we started. My heart continues racing, but I stay composed and reach over into my bedside table. I rip it open. I simply hold his shaft with two fingers. JJ takes a deep breath in. Fuck. He watches my hand roll the condom down with his mouth slightly open. “Time to break some Pogue rules,” he whispers before lining himself up. I should not be this ready for this.

Even with just the tip, I could’ve come apart then and there. I haven’t had sex in months. Whether you believe me or not, I had not imagined it would to be JJ Maybank who I was going to break my ‘no boys’ commitment to myself with. When he begins inserting himself inside me, I realise this is actually happening. The slow, easy slide in had me in pieces. I was already moaning and he wasn’t even moving properly yet. He stops. “This-” I pause to steady my breath. My entire being is, dare I say it, excited. “This has to stay between us,” I compose myself. Although this is a one time thing, it has potential to ruin a hell of a lot. So, even as I wrap my legs around his body, we have to make this promise. “Scouts honour.” He brings his pinky up to me. Kissing the backs of our hands, it was sealed.

He starts pulling out slowly, making my jaw gradually open wider and wider. He pauses before pushing back in. His eyes lock with mine, and he smiles cheekily. I’m not certain what that smile means, but I can sure take a guess. There is a part of me that wants to stop. Nothing’s really happened yet. But no part of me actually wants to. When he pushes himself back inside me, my fingers spread into his hair. His lips land back on mine, my tongue swirls around his like it’s an everyday activity. I pull gently on his hair as he begins steadying a pace. “Shit,” I moan against his lips.

Fingertips glide across my thigh, tracing patterns and sending my stomach into spirals. I couldn’t hook my legs around him tighter if I tried. The wave of tremendous pleasure of each thrust was like a drug. Every time his body collided with mine I wanted more. I needed more. To feel this, in this moment, with JJ was wrong. So why doesn’t it feel that way? His lips leave mine slowly, tracing kisses across my cheek until his lips land near my ear. “You feel so fucking good,” the vibrations of a deep husky moan forces a moan out of me. His teeth latch around my ear lobe, sucking down before moving down to my neck.

The friskiness of JJ’s lips and tongue is like motivation. With strength I didn’t know I had, and confidence in myself I thought I’d lost, I push against JJ and flip us over. Lust fills his eyes. I just sit there, only for a second, actually liking the way JJ is looking at me. Yes, it’s because I’m straddling him half naked. It’s still nice. His hands squeeze the tops of both of my thighs as well as moving up to my hips... then my ass. It was as if he pressed fast forwards.

I move my body up to start thrusting onto him again, with his helping hands guiding back down. “Fuck JJ,” I moan, leaning forwards to bring my face close to his. My moans become more and more prominent between our kisses. The hands, that remain on my ass cheeks, remain strong and steady. The way he still controlled my body, even though I was on top, was such a turn on. I reach for the headboard. If there wasn’t a party going on downstairs I think everyone would be hearing us loud and clear. The bed starts making a rather persistent squeaking noise. I let out a laugh-moan when the headboards makes a ‘one time’ bang against the wall. I could tell, with the way I was grinding myself down onto him, he was close. What a relief!

“I’m so close,” I moan against his lips in a muffled whisper. Although my body grew tired, JJ continues helping my body thrust up and down. The knot in my stomach started to tighten. My heart rate increases quite a bit. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good around me!” His fingers grow stronger against my hips as he came closer and closer to finishing. Even with his grip being quite forceful, all I could feel was an astonishing amount of pleasure flushing through my body. The release felt like a long time coming. Once I started to let go around him, it only took seconds for JJ to reach his climax too. With his help, we ride out our highs. I grow slower and slower, until both of our climaxes finished. My heart is racing. I lift my body with the last piece of energy I had. My sensitive core flinches as he pulls out from me once more. Collapsing onto him, I fall into the crevice on his arm all too well. “Shit,” I mumble. I don’t think it’ll actually sink in until tomorrow. I’m too scared to punch myself in case I don’t wake up. “That was... uh...” he doesn’t even need to finish his sentence. “I know.”

The next morning

I wake up in a strange yet awfully familiar place. The walls, the blanket, and the view outside my window are all home. The curtains weren’t drawn last night. When I roll over, there’s something that shouldn’t be familiar. I set eyes on a naked JJ sleeping soundly next to me. My eyes widen. I can’t help but sit up drastically fast. I first find my thong. As quietly as I can, I open a drawer beside my bed and rummage for a t shirt. I find one and put it on, only to turn and see JJ’s eyes staring my way.

“Morning sunshine,” he smirks. His bed hair sticks up in every direction. I notice his boxers across the room so I stand and throw them his way. I watch as his face changes, but the proud smirk on his face remains. “We fucked last night,” he chuckles, standing to put his boxers on. I press my top and bottom lips together. “Don’t look too impressed with yourself,” using the hairband around my wrist, I quickly whip my hair up into a ponytail. My legs make their way to stand next to the boy. “It was better than I’d imagined it,” he adds. I backhand him on the arm. “Hey!” His eyes are warming. This is when I realise that I don’t regret it. At least, not half as much as I thought I would. It’s not even awkward. Part of me automatically assumed it would be. “Right,” I clap my hands together. “Are you ready to clean a house?” I ask. His rolling eyes scream loudly. Before he can even protest, I butt in. “This is your party, your mess. You’re lucky I’m gonna help you!”

With each step down the stairs, more of my messy house is revealed to me. “If anything’s broken, you’re replacing it,” I warn him. Red cups, empty beer bottles, even clothing was scattered across the floor. I start imagining the way people probably started behaving when JJ and I went upstairs. What if people fucked on... well... anywhere?! “I think we should just go back upstairs,” JJ suggests. This is going to take so long to clean. I feel JJ’s hand slap against my ass. “It’s never happening again,” I say simply. Yes, it was pretty amazing. No, I do not regret it. No, it should never happen again because our friends will kill us. “Whatever you say babe.”

Click here if you’re interested in reading PART TWO

#outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks jj #jj mayback x reader #smut #obx jj #jj obx #jj maybank smut

[gofancyninjaworld]

I know you're not one for discussing power scaling that much, but what is your opinion on how reddit (general) constantly lowballs Genos, then consider weaker feats of other characters better than his own feats of strength? It just seems almost.... weird to me? It's like people hold a grudge against Genos for, existing, I guess? And when did this trend even start?

It's a long answer that is grounded in psychology. While the character himself is fictional and it's by no means a serious situation, nevertheless I've found the way people respond a surprisingly real-life object lesson.

As for the whole powerscaling thing that's become awfully popular, that's a purely fictional construct and is just froth. It's irritating as this is a story designed to frustrate attempts to make like-for-like comparisons and which tries to capture some of the complexity of actual conflict, but folk will have their fun. I think nothing of it. I think it's driven mostly by YouTubers who need to have something to engage their OPM viewers about day after day to stay monetised -- it's hard work. More power to them.

1. Anchoring Bias. One of the headaches of teaching people is that we don't actually learn that well from evidence. We need to check with our pre-existing impressions and beliefs before we'll accept it. All human beings do it, it gives us some degree of stability in our understanding of the world, but it easily goes too far. I don't know if you've ever watched Mythbusters, but in revisiting the episode of the lead balloon, Adam Savage said something I found extremely relevant: he said that there was no inertia in [Jamie's] ability to change his mind, praising the latter's quickness to change his mind in response to new information. [link to the whole segment]

As a group, Redditors have a very strong anchoring bias, a very high mental inertia if you will. You can see it in the way they get upset whenever something in the manga does not correspond to the webcomic, or doesn't happen in the way they thought it would. Oy vey. Characters too, impressions are anchored early and are very slow to shift. It's anchored in minds that Genos is a loser, and certainly when he started out he was pretty damn bad at what he did. Other characters are anchored as winners and their actions are read much more lightly. If mental gymnastics need to be taken to make new information 'fit' that anchor, they will be done. Like if Metal Bat were seen the same way that Genos is, the time he broke free of the chains Erimin and Destro had bound him in, you would have seen posts questioning the toughness of the chains and the quality of the binding. You know, 'just asking', the sort of thing that seems superficially critical in isolation... until you realise it's not asked of others.

2. Key Opinion Leaders. There may be half a million subscribers on Reddit, but functionally, there's only about 50 members who have a loud enough voice to sway the sub one way or the other. They're the Key Opinion Leaders. It's the case for *all* human groupings. Even scientific and medical fields have their KOLs and if you want something to be accepted, you need only persuade them and the rest fall largely in line.

3. The Halo Effect. A basic problem of human psychology is that if we have a positive impression of a person, we'll think everything they do is that bit better. And vice versa.

A character with a great halo is Bang. Who doesn't like a cool old dude with martial arts moves? And he's an awesome and likeable character. The positive light in which he's seen is all but independent of what can actually be observed about him, which is much less rosy. The fact that in a field where disciples are generally loyal and ex-masters are held in esteem for decades, he has few with any loyalty to him? He may be strong but so far, every time he's intervened to help Genos out of a situation the latter can't cope with, he hasn't so much gotten him out of the situation as joined him in the crap. You won't catch anyone calling him a jobber though (no hero should be called a jobber for the record).

If the halo changes, it's shocking how quickly a character's actions will be interpreted differently. Popular opinion was that Sweet Mask could do no right even if his critical stance on hero work being done right and seen to be done right was spot on. And now that he's a more sympathetic character, nothing he does can be wrong, even though he *is* a raging asshole at times, like a lot of the time. Both are bad takes.

The halo effect works against Genos. The whys don't matter, it's the fact of its existence that does. It means that no matter how well he is doing, his actions are always going to be seen more negatively than if other characters did the same thng. It's funny that since your post landed in my in box, we've had a manga chapter in which it's finally occurred to many that Genos is actually heroic. How long that will last and what effect if any it'll have in modulating folks' opinions of him we will just have to see.

Like I said, this is a fictional character and no harm is being done. It's just a fascinating object lesson in how you can have severe bias against someone without any explicit bigotry. Also the truth of 'give a dog a bad name and hang him.' It's also a salutatory reminder of why English (or other language of instruction) literature is such a valuable class. Because it encourages you to read and think about texts critically for both explicit and implicit meaning and once you learn to spot the patterns, you can see it better IRL.

#opm #asks #Genos #I suspect that this answer didn't go the way you thought it would #like I said some inertia is important -- the challenge is to understand what we need to see to change our minds and *why* #much of the time we don't actually understand why we're receptive or resistant to evidence and that's pretty useless

[benevolent-savage]

this is what happens when u enable me lets go

(spoilers ahoy)

Firstly, here’s some somewhat miscellaneous reasons that don’t contribute to any sort of narrative analysis but are still parts of the character I like.

His boss fight is my favorite in the game thus far. It’s not super hard, but it isn’t super easy either, and I even managed to solo it on my Balance after a few practice rounds. Sufficiently challenging without feeling unfair.

His boss fight music. It is a bop and a half, go give it a listen, my soul ascends from my body a few centimeters every time I hear it start up.

His voice. I’m sure it’s processed at least a little but gotdamn his voice is so deep and spooky it startled me when I first heard it. Very curious who his actor is; I think he and Inyanga Whitestripes share the same one. Either way, very well voiced and acted.

His design is very good. It’s the perfect mix of innocuous but also spooky sorcerer fella who knows some shit. And I was afraid that the designers would try and make him like. Handsome? Under the hood? To try and make him more sympathetic? But they didn’t and I’m glad for it.

With those out of the way, the next thing to establish, I guess: I don’t interpret Old Cob to be the main villain of arc 3, nor do I interpret Raven as such. They’re definitely antagonists, but they’re not the ultimate problem; the ultimate problem is their divorce, and how they keep dragging people into their bs. It’s established the Aethyr is a physical manifestation of their anger towards each other, and as it thins, communication between them becomes possible, as Sparck puts it in this thinly veiled metaphor toward the start of Empyrea part 2.

But Cob’s still an antagonist and I love him so I’m gonna talk about that. Most of this is going to be talking about his motivations for doing what he does, since I don’t see him quite as the ‘likes to watch the world burn for the hell of it’ archetype that others might.

One of the reasons that drew me to his character is how legit his gripe is, when put in perspective. Old Cob- or Grandfather Spider, if you prefer- is not a mortal like the other antagonists of previous arcs, which establishes he has a different thought process right off the bat. This new universe was built on his suffering and he has a grudge against the ex wife who made it, so as a god, it makes some sense he’d try to destroy it and build one he would like better. He’s fully aware that what he is doing will hurt people but decidedly doesn’t care, and I appreciate that so much. He’s chaotic as fuck and he owns it, along with his superiority complex that’s as wide as the day is long.

Yet his reasoning is like. Weirdly understandable? Like, if my ex-whatever put me in jail for a lifetime sentence and stole my kidney to pay for a new house or something, I too would go apeshit and want my fuckin kidney back. That’s mostly how I interpret his situation. He’s not doing this for hell of it, he’s doing it because he wants to get back at his ex because he’s bitter and petty and for the most part he knows this but he feels justified in doing do because she ripped out his goddamn kidney- I mean heart, and he wants that back.

And then, even after all that, he and his magic are treated as if they’re inherently evil. While, sure, Shadow is a ‘dark magic’, its actual properties aren’t anything malicious by itself. It is described as “a magic that changes reality,” and that’s it. Incredibly exploitable and you should practice caution while handling it, but used correctly it is powerful and helpful; this is likely alluding to the backlash mechanic, where likes decrease the percent of damage you take, dislikes increase the percent, and I imagine the person meant to be the literal embodiment of the magic in question to be similar in nature: not inherently harmful and lashes out if he feels he’s been mistreated.

Going off that, I’m not sure he ever wanted the FirstWorld to be destroyed, and therefore believes his incarceration to be entirely unjust; he doesn’t deny that he instigated the fight between the Titans, but when it comes to being accused of its actual destruction, he gets angry.

...Okay the written text doesn’t really display how mad he got here, but he was like. Big Angy. Super offended. Honestly, a big part of why I love and analyze the hell out of his character comes from how his VA delivers his lines and his voice in general. If you haven’t heard it for some reason, I recommend looking it up. Anyway, here he’s basically saying he didn’t destroy the First World, and even if he did, he’s suffered enough punishment because of it, to my interpretation. The only one I remember blaming him for it is Raven; Bartleby was there, and I don’t recall him blaming anything other than the Titans for it. This is of course not accounting for the various changes made to the lore since he was introduced, but they could have easily thrown in a line like ‘And now Spider plans to destroy the Spiral the way he destroyed the FirstWorld!’ or something to make it clear it was done intentionally.

And this may very well be straying into headcanon territory here, but I think he holds positive relationships very closely to him, even if things went sour in the end; he clearly still has some remaining affection for the Titans, calling them ‘the children’ and being incredibly angry at Raven for forcing one of them to destroy his Heart.

When Rat loses in Polaris he shows up to praises his efforts and even comfort him, in his own weird way. He reprimanded Scorpion in Mirage, but it’s because Scorpion wasn’t doing what his dad asked him to and got his ass kicked as a result. As for Bat, every time they’re in the same room together he pays him some sort of compliment.

Bat claims that he and his brothers are meant to be his tools, and to some extent that’s true, but he also genuinely cares about them, and it’s really interesting to see a villain defect from the usual ‘not caring about anyone other than themselves’ and openly show affection for his kids while still managing to be an incredible asshole.

In line with this is his relationship with the Wizard. There is, of course, a foundation of manipulation to their dynamic, at least to some degree. I thoroughly believe that Spider was overshadowing Coleridge, at least partly, so our character could bust him out of prison.

And while this is happening, he regains some of his spent power and removes threats to it as well, namely Morganthe, using the Wizard’s help. In fact, I have very little doubt that he was at least partially responsible for her fall; his timing on that two-liner was too on the nose.

But even with that, I think he genuinely treasures the Wizard’s help and company, which is why he attempts on four different occasions to either sway them to his side, or warn them away from what he’s doing.

Boy, I want that vacation, but it’s your fault I’m here.

And then, of course, his relationship with Raven, something that is basically a summation of his character arc. Laden with baggage and tragic in concept, it is my belief that most of what he’s doing isn’t because he genuinely hates the Spiral or he wants to get back at her, but because he loved her and treasured their relationship; so upon her mistreating him, he lashed out at everything she’d made and detested it as a result. But only because he felt betrayed and hurt so he has to inflict that on other people because he is, as aforementioned, a petty and bitter old fuck.

Moving off that line of thinking, an admirable quality he possesses is how smart he is. This guy has so many wrinkles in his brain it must look like a raisin. Well, perhaps not ‘smart’ exactly, but how good he is at manipulating certain situations to his advantage. Like in Mirage; you just know that he was fully expecting Mellori to be there and fully planned to use her as a back up plan, or you could even argue that the whole debacle in Mirage was a ploy to get his hands on her, while having the added possible benefit of things actually working out.

Actually his scheme in Mirage was really interesting now that I think about it. His aim was to turn back time to when the FirstWorld was whole, further implying that he never wanted its destruction in the first place. It would also, of course, be a time where he had his Heart and would have the ability to avoid having it ripped out again. This would involve not having the Titans fight each other again, or at least not starting it and suffering the consequences. It would be everything he wanted to achieve knocked out in one go with minimal muss or fuss, compared to other methods. It’s probably a part of why he shows up personally to bargain with Eerkala and the Cabal, and why he directly intervenes in our Wizard’s efforts to stop him; it was too important to trust to any of his kids, so knowing Scorpion probably wouldn’t have been able to execute it anyway, he used his kid as a distraction for the most part.

I also like looking into the fact that his element, besides Shadow, is Storm, as opposed to pure Shadow or Death, as most major antagonists are. Storm is a school based on invention, experimentation and improvement. This is something that interests me for two reasons: one, the magic of major antagonists is always a part of their character, Malistaire the most blatantly, and two, because of this line he says in Mirage.

To my interpretation, this would imply that he sees the Spiral as something that could be improved. And as a god, he would of course find it his obligation to try and fix this flaw. When he made the barter with the Cabal, I don’t doubt he was being at least partially honest about restoring the FirstWorld; it would certainly fix the flaw it has in the context of stealing his internal organs, but he would also probably seek to improve it, make it more suited to Shadow or something.

Something else I find intriguing is how weirdly honest he is; I don’t recall him ever lying to us once, unless you count omitting certain facts as lying. But that’s absolutely something I can see him using against people, like “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you, your fault for not asking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .” As said before, he;s really good at manipulating people and he weaponizes whatever he can; @that-wizard-oki​ made a really great post about how he uses conflicts- his fault or not- to his advantage, and does his own thing in the background without interruption, Mirage and Neumia probably being the best example of this, with Scorpion and the Cabal serving as distractions while he either carries out things himself or gives instructions.

To pull all of this together narratively, I think it’s important to consider this line from Mellori during one of their confrontations:

He feels powerless, so he puffs up his god status. He has little power to fight with, compared to before, so he mostly manipulates and creates back-up plans while causing conflicts to serve as distractions. His love hurt him, so he lashes out at others and drags them into his problems.

You may ask, “But Sam, these are all bad qualities, why should we like him because of this?” And I would respond “Because it makes him a complex and interesting antagonist.” The kind of character that executes his shitty actions in such a way that you can’t help but respect- even just for the level of dramatics put in to it- while also having a motive that makes you stop and consider that maybe he has a point but is very much handling the situation the wrong way.

Like, c’mon, he ticks so many villain boxes. Tragic backstory? Check. Blatant thespian who owns it? Check. Gets his hands dirty before the climax of the story? Check. Smart/ manipulative/ has back-up plans? Check. Understandable, strong motives? Check.

He’s got layers. Like onion. I felt like there was always something new to discover about him, and for that I can assert my opinion that he’s one of the best characters in Wizard101.

lmao if you read this far into my simp-for-shithead post congrats. feel free to shoot me more asks on the subject bc i cant write persuasive-essay-esque format anymore my brain is rotting. if you will excuse me, im off to listen to the chronoverge combat track for the 82937487734th time

#i get that a lot of people havent gotten far enough into the game to meet him but I ENCOURAGE U TO TRY BC HE'S A GOOD AND FUN CHARACTER OKAY #i need more cob content >:U #wizard101 #w101

[blissfulalchemist]

“ you made it look so damned easy to leave me. ” + twc kids xx

Ah Thank you Stella! Some angst but nothing detrimental but we’re dealing with an ex so there’s that. I hope you enjoy a little back story as timeline wise this would take place just before main game events. 

It’s the worst type of weather, always had been for Hayat, the sky grey chilling the air and the clouds holding back the rain desperate to fall, combining into a sticky cold day. Always the second week of April every year without fail, a constant in this small town. Normally, Hayat would have been inside still, inviting others on the police force to have lunch in his “office” so they could all relax and have fun for a little while, not today though as he forgot his lunch and the lack of breakfast made the vending machines no longer an option for the day. So here he was, walking down Main Street unsure of where to get a decent lunch and starting to freeze, he should have brought a beanie with him today. 

It’s the familiar scent of grains of paradise that slows him down. It comes from a new restaurant, open only a few weeks, one he’s been wanting to try, hoping to have a little bit of home closer to where his home is now. No time like the present, he thinks making his way to the door, blowing on his hands for some warmth. 

His speed picks up the closer he comes to the door, inattentive to another customer walking out. Their eyes are focused on their phone, running straight into Hayat, the two of them almost falling over. 

“Oh. Sorry man, didn’t-,” Hayat’s words catch in his throat as he identifies just whom he ran into. 

Bobby Marks.

Despite the glasses Bobby wears now, Hayat would know the dark blonde hair anywhere with it being the same style since they first met in college, short along the sides and enough length at the top to spike it up with some kind of hair gel or wax depending on the weather, It would have been wax on a day like today. Bobby brushed himself off, giving Hayat a lopsided smile, “Don’t worry about it, handsome,” Hayat repressed the growl at the old nickname, “Surprised to see you out at this time.”

“Just needed some lunch,” he took a step to the side, the reporter following him, “so if you don’t mind,” Hayat tried once again to make his way into the restaurant. 

“Maybe we could eat together,” Bobby stepped closer, “just like old times.”

Hayat scoffed, “‘Like old times’.” He shook his head, crossing his arms, “What do you want?”

“Who says I want anything?”

He rolled his eyes, Don’t be difficult, “Because it’s you, Bobby. You always want something from me. Whether it be some story, information, or privileges there’s always some ulterior motive with you when it comes to me.”

“Maybe I just want to have lunch with you,” Bobby shrugged, “especially since we’d be having the same food.” 

Not any more, Hayat turned on his heel, “You know what, I'm actually not that hungry anymore.”

“Bull. Shit,” Bobby spat out, moving to keep pace with the officer, “You can’t lie to me, I know you better than that.”

“The fuck does it matter to you anyway?” Hayat stuffed his fists into the pockets of his jacket, “I don’t like hanging out with you unless absolutely necessary and this,” he stopped looking down on the journalist, “isn’t necessary.”

Bobby glared at him, clenching his jaw, “You know what I don’t understand with you? How you act like I didn’t ever love you when the exact opposite is true.”

Hayat rolled his eyes grumbling, “Could have fooled me.”

“It’s the truth Hayat,” Bobby pleaded, stopping himself as soon as the words left his mouth. He shook his head, “Why am I even arguing with you about this? You were the one that made it look so damn easy to leave me.” Hayat flinched, crossing his arms, “Don’t look at me like that. You think I didn’t see the traveling,” Trying to find a way back home, “the new relationships,” It was the only way to stave off the loneliness and feel something, “all of it leading to this shiny job that everyone says you’re just born to do. ‘Just like his old man, Rook!’ that’s what they all say.”

Hayat laughed, mouth thinning as he paced in a slow circle, “Easy, right. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself all these years?” He shook his head running a hand through his dark hair, “Bobby, leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve had to do. I loved you. Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do, but what was I supposed to do? You screwed me over to a point that I had to make a new life with new passions from scratch.”

“That was never my intention,” he snapped, “You could have stayed. I could have helped you find something. I could have taken care of you.”

“Taken-? No! I didn’t need to be taken care of and like hell I’d let you be the one to do that.”

“Fine. But you didn’t have to leave me still. We still could have had a life together, you and me,” he jabbed a finger into Hayat’s chest, “but you were the one that threw us away.”

Hayat shook his head, pushing Bobby’s hands away, “No, I didn’t. That was you, the minute you decided to frame me like the coward you are. You threw our relationship away, not me.” 

“How was I supposed to know that they’d strip you of your academic accomplishments! You were so nice and good, you never broke a rule in your life! I thought they’d go easy on you, Hiya.” Bobby bit his lower lip, “I’m sorry they didn’t.”

“What kind of universe are you living in that made you think they’d go easy on me, Bobby?” The journalist looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck fumbling for a response, “Look, I don’t know if you’ve cared to notice but I’m not like you,” he kept his breathing even, his voice rising in volume, “There’s a reason I never broke a rule, why I had to be so nice to people that I would have loved to have avoided in any other situation. The reason? Because it was hard enough to get past the assumptions on what my education would be used for, getting past the sneers by some of the other students as the fear mongering grew once again, and to top it off the department head had been looking for just about anything to use as an excuse to get me out of there since day one,” The racist bastard. “So yeah, I can be as mad as I want about it because you, of all people, should have known what they would do to someone like me.” Hayat’s fists shook, taking a deep breath, he just had to calm down, He’s not worth the fight. Not worth getting this angry over, “You're just selfish and that’s all you ever will be.”

Hayat finally turned away from him, stalking towards the station, hearing Bobby call out, “I wouldn’t have come back if that were true you know!” 

Hayat scoffed, grumbling, “What fucking bullshit. Only here cause you figured the job was easy,” And that I was still easy to manipulate. 

“There’s something bigger going on here! You’ll need me one day! Just you watch,” Bobby called out, He’s just wanting to get under my skin, Hayat thought as he walked faster, eyes focused on the cobblestone below. 

“I’ll never need him. Never did to begin with,” he mumbled nearing the edge of the park. He just needed a bit of a walk before heading back to the station, he could use the cool down. The station would be fine without him if he was late and if it wouldn’t be then he carried a phone for a reason. It wasn’t long before the trail became uneven, Hayat glancing up, he’d made his way towards the woods surrounding the town. He paused, letting out a long breath, whispers of fog leaving him, “Guess I start heading back,” he whispered, turning a one-eighty on his heel. The shaking had stopped, his head becoming clear once more, shoulders starting to hang and feel sore, stomach cramping with hunger. “Little deli by the station it is, I guess.”

The focus he held for the ground below him didn’t give any leeway to notice the person nearing him, not like the stranger paid much mind either as he worked to light a cigarette. Their shoulders connected, Hayat stumbling back a few steps while the dark haired stranger stayed in place. “Watch where you’re going,” he growled out, Hayat getting the briefest look at the man already stanturing away. He had to be new in town, or just passing through, his dark olive toned skin showing some time in the sun, Probably on vacation somewhere exotic. How lucky. His shoulder length hair blew softly in the breeze that picked up, Hayat rolling his eyes, Probably gets to just use some dollar store shampoo for upkeep I bet. 

He let out a sigh, eyes catching the bright white carton on the dirt trail. He bent down to pick it up, the structure still stiff and showing little wear on the edges, a near brand new box. Hayat couldn’t help but glance inside the box, half the cigarettes already gone, Good luck to him in five years. “Hey wait up,” he called out, jogging the small distance between them, “You dropped these.”

The man turned slightly looking at Hayat's outstretched hand, quickly grabbing the box. “Thanks,” he said simply, walking away from him and pocketing the carton before Hayat could utter a response. With one last look, he gave a shrug, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket making his way back to the station, where Tina waited for him with a small meal from Haley’s bakery. 

“Heard about your run in,” she said with a sympathetic smile, “You know if you need help in learning how to ignore him, I’d be more than happy to teach you.” She sat on the edge of his desk, leg swinging beneath her, “Can’t tell you how many people I’ve had to do that for.”

Hayat laughed, “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised with you, Tina,” her jaw dropped, giving him a small slap on the shoulder with a smile. He gave her a light push off the desk, the two of them laughing a moment more as he opened up his lunch. “Thank you, Tina. You’re a good friend.” She posed, batting her eyelashes with a big grin she couldn’t contain, Hayat giving a chuckle, “Alright Miss America, go and get what we need for patrol before you make me regret saying it.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain,” she said with a salute, laughing as she made her way to the other side of the building.

#but I love my boy so much! Thank you Stella! #I am sadly nothing more than someone that sticks close to canon with changing what I don't like #hayat khademi oc #will also be reblogged no more than three times in 24 hrs sorry #I just feel nervous about posting this #twc oc #twc detective oc #twc detective #the wayhaven chronicles

[ruby-whistler]

(quicksandblock) hi! I just left you a giant wall-of-text response on your Dream post, and though I think it came across well enough, I just want to state my lack of hostile intent over here as well lol. I know stuff like this that people feel strongly about can get very tense so I just wanted to make doubly certain you know I'm not trying to pick a fight or anything. it kind of sucks that I feel like I need to clarify that but that's fandom culture for you sometimes :P

also, I would love to talk to you about Dream characterization. I think I disagree with you on a lot of different points and I love his character, so I'm very interested in understanding your perspective!

hey, hello! found a c!dream enthusiast/enjoyer, that’s cool, hi! :]

[copied part i put in front of each reply, hence different capitalization]

Alright, so first as a quick disclaimer, I’m going to put a summary of the original post’s points, just to ensure that we’re on the same page;

The post does say:

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because it continuously hurts people who relate to and/or sympathize with him, also dehumanization in general is an inherently wrong mindset

- don’t attack people who sympathize with him because he’s a victim of abuse besides other things

The post never says:

- you cannot hate c!Dream and not sympathizing with him is wrong

- the things c!Dream has done are to any degree excused

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because he’s a good person

- people who dehumanize c!Dream are real life abuse apologists

If you read the post and didn’t get these points from it, i advise you to reread it as I made pretty much all of these abundantly clear.

[end of disclaimer]

i never said anyone could infringe on his human rights! i… literally never said that! i said “they ignore” when characters do it, but that was a run-on sentence, i get how that might’ve been easily misunderstood. but yes, he’s a fictional character, i’d never said people could actually hurt him or anything in that sense.

the thing is, i still find them saying they enjoy it… wrong? the people yelling in tommy’s chat for c!dream to hurt him more were freaking victim blaming pricks, and if what they did was the widespread fandom opinion it would be hurting actual people with trauma. i ask people to look at the c!dream situation with the same severity, because it’s actually happening and it’s highly disturbing, not just from principle, but because of what it leads to within the community.

sorry for comparing his situation to c!tommy, but narratively i believe the prison arc is a deliberate parallel to exile, and comparing his situation to someone they’ve not dehumanized seems to be the only way to knock sense into some people.

i am happy you don’t seem to be one of the people who dehumanize him. you’re not the target audience of this post - neither are abuse victims who project onto him. i know people who c!tommy reminds of their abuser (because of personality traits), or even c!quackity, that’s fine. they’re totally free to hate their respective character, of course, without being,, actually right about them. that being said, majority of this fandom is dehumanizing c!dream and being mad at people sympathizing with him “on behalf of the abuse victims”, not actual victims themselves, and by doing this they are unknowingly hurting other people rather than helping anything, and spreading misinformation as well as making a lot of fans in general uncomfortable. i believe this is something that needs to change in the community.

hating him is fine, but group-based dehumanization in my mind is not. if you go on twitter and search “c!dream” and see 100 people saying they wish the abuse victim you project onto is hurt more (this is not a twitter thing, c!dream tag is the same thing, a majority of the crit is untagged but it,, doesn’t really matter because even tagged hate riles up more people) that freaking sucks and is something that the community needs to work on, not shoved under the rug and pretend it wasn’t there because some people tag it.

“the abuse victims who are hurt by people saying they should be sympathetic towards Dream are in fact just as hurt as the abuse victims who relate to Dream and are hurt by people saying his evil.”

this is not wrong. it’s right actually, but i’m not talking about this fandom calling him evil/unable to be sympathized with/irredeemable. i mean, that’s hurtful dehumanization as well, but this community doesn’t “say he’s evil” it “says he deserves to keep being horribly abused and/or die”.

and… i wasn’t talking about/saying abuse victims should sympathize with him either? i’ve said like five times that people can hate him as much as they want, but dehumanization is another thing. it’s the majority of this community (this post wasn’t targeting abuse victims in the slightest) taking away his positive human qualities, hence believing he doesn’t deserve human rights, and turning him into some sort of punching bag or personification of evil, which i find deeply disturbing since he’s being related to by abuse victims, and also blatantly incorrect to the character.

so, you’d be right, if the situation was what you described. it… really isn’t. the dream smp fanbase isn’t populated by abuse victims in any corner. it’s two small groups, one of them hurt (undeservingly) by a few and the other one hurt (no more or less undeservingly) by a majority of the fandom without anyone batting an eye.

and this post isn’t even about abuse victims in the first place; it’s about dehumanization. while its impact plays a big role in why i wrote this, things like these being widespread in the fandom makes so many people uncomfortable or pressured not to sympathize with a recently made sympathetic character that they might (but could not) relate to. relating to him myself, i might not have a say in this, but my compassion in general made me switch over to the c!dream sympathetic people, not anyone in the community or projection.

the results i relayed here weren’t the only results of the survery. people mentioned pandora’s vault as their reasons for being dream apologists,, over and over and over again. a lot of them mentioned the fandom response specifically.

it’s making the fandom not only unsafe to a small group of traumatized people, but also fans in general, who are equally as important to feel comfortable. hell, the reason dream apologists are such a tight-knit community that accepts little to no outside feedback is because of the hatred that is endlessly nurtured outside, that makes people feel anxious or not safe just for sympathizing with a victim of abuse.

i myself find this a problem that people should attempt to change beyond using crit tags more. feel free to not agree with that, but a lot of affected people do.

i agree the disc finale was actually cathartic! well, that’s a lie, i used to hate c!dream’s guts before that but that was the very instance where i saw a person behind the mask and went “oh, this is a whole mess isn’t it”, but it was,, cathartic to a lot of other people that didn’t use to have intense empathy to inanimate objects as children djskdjsk (i was a weird kid and still am, don’t mind that)

do you know what is cathartic? when a dog terribly bites a child, gets kicked away and gets put in a cage. do you know what isn’t cathartic? …that dog getting repeatedly beaten, starved and abused while trapped in said cage. even in fiction, and i say that as someone who was terribly bitten by a dog.

i don’t mind fictional characters suffering - frick, angst is my jam, i’ll write a character dying over and over again and have fun, but people justify that or make fun of people who don’t by saying openly that they enjoy it,, because he’s done bad things.

here comes the double standard. the exile arc wasn’t cathartic just because tommy burnt down a house, because hell, that wasn’t fair retribution. same goes for dream.

there is a difference between enjoying dark media (something i do frequently and is something i like doing) and open dehumanization and often normalized harassment of people who don’t do the same or condemn that. that is something that in my mind shouldn’t be a mainstream thing in the community.

to be fair, people saying an abuse victim no longer being hurt is “bad writing” or “insensitive” as i’ve seen people say would probably piss me off, but i’m,, not going to harass them. maybe a passive-aggressive vague-post if enough big accounts do it, but i think that’s justified. feel free to disagree - i still respect abuse victims who wouldn’t like that, but people who just don’t want the writers to humanize a character they’ve dehumanized will probably grind my gears.

this community,, isn’t working like this. i wrote this because people are repeatedly being hurt by the community or feel bad in it because of widespread opinions and dehumanization of a character that is as of late written to be sympathetic to the audience. that’s not a disagreement, the people who are actually sympathetic are a minority in the fandom, which would be fine with me, if they weren’t constantly invalidated, triggered and harassed as a direct result of the dehumanization discussed in this post.

besides the fact that the principle of dehumanization applied to c!dream is wrong - and if people find themselves doing that, it’s good for them to find a way to realize that, such as this post, because projection =/= dehumanization, and this post is targeting one, not the other - this is why i wrote this post. i still believe my points are valid and important for this fandom to consider.

you know, we could talk about the characterization right now - but after this i’m going onto a two month long hiatus for the sole purpose of studying the character. i’m not joking, this is what i’m dedicating my summer to. since i’m also closing my asks because of this, i can write this down and @ you when i’m done? :D i’d love to talk about him but i’m going to have so much more evidence after this, so maybe we can put this off for a while if you don’t mind! of course feel free to continue the dehumanization debate in a string of reblogs since it’s pretty much a different debate entirely.

( @zrenia @caketexturepack just tagging some people who responded to your response and might be interested in the continuation of the debate - also curious anon i saw your two asks i was just busy djsjdks please don’t spam about people who replied to me, i have a bad memory but i write this stuff down, actually )

#my asks #discourse #tw dehumanization #tw abuse #tw torture #tw animal abuse #long post

[wxlfstxrx]

sweater weather chat #5, part 2

our dear @shinymooncolor​ asked me to help write part 2 of her amazing text fic that had me screaming into my pillow at 6am. lots of hockey puns, lots of laughter, and lots of flirting oOoOooOOoo. thanks shiny for the guidance, and i hope you like it as much as i do :) characters by @lumosinlove​!

They had won. He had had his second shutout of the season. A perfect way to pay back a new sponsor. Kasey had never cared much for sucking up to the guys in suits. He had a handful of lucrative endorsements— he didn’t have to do much besides wear certain brands for press and endorse a bunch of stuff like skates, equipment, and even hair products once in a while. 

The teasing over the past few days had been near insufferable. And he still felt like kicking himself. But he’d been so frustrated and turned on and Nat knew. She knew what a single snap would do, knew he had to suffer through another two hours worth of presentations. He had tried to pay attention, he really had, but once he knew Kris was taking notes, his mind had drifted. Having his girlfriend live texting and snapping pictures of herself did not help. His phone had glitched at one point, and the texts had been sent off to the worst imaginable group of people. Even texting his mother by accident would have been better than his immature, prankster teammates. 

He stomped down the hallway, following the excited chatter and buzzing of his team. He knew the press would be interviewing him, so he stayed in character, not even wincing when Pots threw an arm around his shoulders and cheered loudly before smacking a kiss to the helmet perched on the top of his head. He did, however, squeeze back when Leo wrapped an arm around him, part congratulating and part sympathetic, and he patted his rookie mentee on the back in response. 

Coach began his victory speech as he slowly and methodically padded down, unlacing his skates and disregarding the increasing volume that arose on the back of a win. He ignored the pointed whispers of the boys next to him— Kuny and Nado were always up to something, and he wasn’t going to rise to their bait. Not this time. 

Dumo got his attention as he sat down heavily next to him, between him and his Russian stall neighbour, wrapping a sweaty arm around his shoulder and waxing poetic about his saves. He rolled his eyes, but immediately re-schooled his face as the media swarmed through the doors. They descended upon him and Cap, and he politely answered questions with pre-studied replies and polite smiles. There was a commotion and some wolf whistles and whooping, but he resolutely ignored it and continued speaking to the reporter.

“No, I’m always preparing differently, each game is new and you can never truly rely—” He stopped short, feeling his cheeks flame; even his many years of psychological training and optimisation had not prepared him for the sight of his six foot teammate dressed up in fishnet tights, some sort of leather bodice and his tattoos on full display. Their teammates were whooping and guffawing, and when Nado caught his eye, he winked exaggeratedly and blew a kiss.

“What the bloody fuck,” Kasey whispered, his jaw dropped and his face bright red.

Nado casually sauntered over to him, falling into Kuny’s stall with frankly too much grace for someone in five inch stilettos. He draped himself against Kasey’s side, and Kasey blinked, leaning back.

“Hey, handsome,” Nado smirked, curling a lock of Kasey’s long brown hair around his finger. He leaned closer, his breath tickling Kasey’s cheek. “I bet my stick would feel great in your crease, don’t you agree, sweetie?”

Bewildered, Kasey’s gaze snapped to the rest of the locker room, purposefully avoiding looking into the cameras. God, he bet the media was having a field day with this… whatever this was. All around him, his teammates and some of their partners who had come down to congratulate them on their win were bent double with laughter, with Pots right at the front gleefully recording the whole spectacle, presumably for Nat, who had not been able to make it due to a gig on the other end of the city.

Nado hooked his legs over Kasey’s on the bench, throwing his arms around him as he seductively trailed a finger down his cheek. “Or, if that’s not your cup of tea, I’m happy to let you cover my crease any time. We can work on our power plays together.”

Someone roared with laughter, and Kasey pushed Nado, who was practically seated on his lap now, off of him. The heavily tattooed man pouted, his big blue eyes glistening like the ocean on a clear summer’s day. 

“Aww, c’mon babe, don’t I look hot in leather? The boys seem to think so, and something tells me that you do too,” He smiled sweetly, and Kasey scowled at the others. Tremzy looked like he had just scored his first goal in the league, and Harzy had an arm slung around him, grinning smugly. He met Leo’s eye, and he gave him an apologetic smile and half nod, but his eyes were glittering with amusement. 

“I—” Kasey had to stop himself from cussing in front of the media, and he groaned instead, running his hands through his frazzled hair.

“Err, sorry,” The reporter— not Skeeter, this time— cut in, evidently entertained but also very confused. She turned to Nado, seeing as Kasey had buried his face in his hands, muttering under his breath. “Jackson, help me to understand the situation here. Is this some sort of new game ritual you have, or are we missing something?”

Nado smiled lazily, leaning back against the stall divider beside him and combing his fingers through his floppy brown fringe. “Ask Kuny, he’s boss.”

Realising what Nado had done, Kuny spluttered, glaring warningly back at Nado, but he simply shrugged and began to rub Kasey’s back sensually.

Kasey jumped, and he quickly whispered to Nado as the reporter headed over to a very harassed looking Kuny, the cameras trailing behind her.

“Nado, what on earth? What are you guys playing at?”

“Sorry man, I had to. ‘s my punishment for that whole… thing with Kuny’s cousin. He made me do it,” Nado grimaced for a second, then shrugged, batting his eyelashes. He looked down at himself, cocking his head and nodding in approval at the tight leather bodice around his torso. “Gotta admit I look smashing though, I might just have to get a picture of this for the gram.”

Kasey sighed, and looked over at Kuny, who was surrounded by the media and the rest of the team, in their various states of undress.

“Nado been bad. I punish him,” He replied curtly, not wanting to speak more than he had to. Talker snorted, and Sergei and Dumo both barked out a laugh which they covered up with a cough.

The reporter’s eyebrows flew up beneath her bangs. “Oooookay, seems like there’s been lots of, uh, love going around today,” She turned back to the cameras, which swung back round to face her, and she began wrapping up her interview.

Kuny awkwardly slid away, approaching Nado and Kasey as the press made their exit. He thwacked Nado upside the head, and he yelped. 

“Fuck you. You— You buttface,” Kuny growled menacingly, but everyone around them burst into another round of laughter.

Timmers wheezed, and he slapped Kuny hard on the back. “Fuck Kuny, you’re a real special one, you know that?”

“What?” He glared. “I cuss at Nado, why you laugh?”

“Nothing,” Timmers shook his head, his hazel eyes bright and shining with mirth. “Nothing, Kuny. You’re good. Stay like this forever, please.”

Pots, who was still recording, whipped the camera around to face Kasey and Nado, still seated on the bench, Kasey having forgotten about removing his gear when the press had come in. Nado instantly threw himself back onto Kasey’s lap, flicking his fringe dramatically and smiling at the camera.

“Say, Nado, why do I have a feeling you’ve got more to offer than what you’ve given us already?” Pots grins, zooming in to Nado’s wink.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask!” He lifted the back of his hand to his forehead theatrically, his voice a high pitched whine. He didn’t even break character, Kasey had to give him that, but before he had the chance to push Nado off him again, the other boy had cupped both his cheeks in his large hands and brought their faces close together.

“You know, I think the ref should’ve given you two minutes in the box earlier,” Nado simpered, waggling his eyebrows at Kasey, who decided to fix his gaze on the long scar running across his teammate’s face rather than look into his eyes. “Because baby, you’ve got me hooked onto you.”

Kasey’s eyes flew up to meet Nado’s in a frown. “I— That wasn’t— What?”

Tremzy gasped loudly. “Blizzard, are you… blushing? From that pick up line?”

“What? No I’m not,” Kasey tried to defend himself indignantly, but Nado was grinning from ear to ear and even Loops, who had been silently watching all this while with a mysterious smile, snickered at that. 

Nado turned so he was straddling Kasey, and his hands gripped onto the dividers on either side of them, effectively caging Kasey in his stall. With nowhere else to look at, Kasey dared to roam his eyes over Nado, from his chin-length brown hair falling into a curtain around his face, to his confident smirk, down to his bare unshaved chest, still glistening with sweat from the match earlier and the stifling heat in the locker room. 

Up close, he could see the details on his tight leather corset, the three heavy straps in the front and the tight shiny material stretched out at the crotch, giving Kasey an impressive but probably very inappropriate view of Nado’s groin. He flushed even more as he realised Nado’s bare ass, save for the fishnet stockings, was planted on his lap. 

Speaking of the fishnet… Fuck. 

Nado had actually shaved his legs for this. What the hell. His long legs were spread wide open and his muscular thighs were pressed against his own, and those stilettos... His stall suddenly seemed very warm, and Kasey leaned back against the wall behind him, his head thunking against the wood loudly.

“Oh, Kasey,” He pinched Kasey’s flaming cheek with one hand, and he swatted it away, huffing in embarrassment. “Seems like the fishnet and leather are indeed to your liking, eh?”

“Fuck off,” He muttered in response, crossing his arms and turning to the side.

“Oh, but don’t you just love the way the fishnet feels against your legs?” Nado purred into his ear. “Just imagine, darling, what these legs will feel like, wrapped around your—”

Kasey stood up suddenly, his hands sliding under Nado’s ass and lifting him up. Nado shrieked and clutched onto Kasey’s broad shoulders tightly as he turned around, slamming him up against the empty wall beside his stall. He leaned in close enough so their noses were almost touching, his light brown eyes blazing, a stark contrast from his usual calm and collected front. “Yeah, Nado? You wanna go? Why imagine? I’m not afraid of spearing you. Think you can handle me, hmmm?”

He raised a brow, and Nado’s eyes widened in shock. He heard a mixture of gasps, chokes and laughter from behind him, and his lips curled up in a victorious smirk. He stepped back from the wall, walking them over to Kuny, who was seated by his stall. Kasey let go of Nado, dropping him into his roommate’s lap, and nonchalantly turned back to his stall to continue undressing. As he tugged off his leg pads and skates, he called over his shoulder to Kuny.

“Take your work wife home, won’t you, Russian God? He’s got a timeout.”

With that, he peeled off his jersey and the rest of his gear, and headed to the gym to cool down, leaving the rest of the team in chaos.

On the way out, he passed by Kuny patting Nado on the head comfortingly and telling him, “Hehe, not be bad anymore. I’m win.”

He was sure he heard Nado respond with a “Fuck, I think I need a cold shower. Now.”

#Sweater Weather #sweaterweatherchats #lumosinlove #sweaterweatherchatsnr5

[averykedavra]

Too Far Gone

(Hey y’all! I’m back with some Logan angst, because that’s all I’m capable of writing. You can find this story on Ao3 here!)

Summary: Logan Mackenzie doesn't quite understand feelings, but he does care about his friends. That's why he ended up playing matchmaker for his three oblivious best friends.

Getting Roman and Virgil together is hard. Getting Patton to admit his feelings is harder. The hardest part, however, is when he realizes he care a little more than a friend would.

But they're happy together. Roman-Virgil-Patton. 1+1+1=Relationship.

What Logan wants isn't part of the equation.

Ships: eventual romantic LAMP

Warnings: self-deprecation, self-confidence issues, self-isolation, sacrificing happiness for the sake of others, a TON of pining you guys, some denial to spice it up, deceit is only mentioned, self-hatred issues, yeah Logan has some feelings, swearing, insecurity about being polyamorous but it’s very brief, crying, arguing, lots of crying. (that makes it sound really angsty but there’s a ton of fluff too I swear)

Word count: 16,845 (it’s still a oneshot if I post it all at once, shut up)

Logan Mackenzie knew a lot of things. He knew the name of every Agatha Christie novel in alphabetical order. He knew the capitol of every country and a few that weren’t countries anymore. He knew how to calculate the sine of an angle, identify the signs of dehydration, and communicate—albeit rather haltingly—in American Sign Language. He’d maintained good grades through high school, college, and now, graduate school. He wanted to be an astronomy teacher one day, but if that didn’t pan out, a doctor, researcher, or physicist were not out of the question.

As Virgil once put it, the size of Logan’s area of expertise was only eclipsed by the size of Roman’s ego. This led to Roman attacking Virgil with a spatula and declaring that their friendship was over, Virgil was a coward and a fool, and he could not reasonably stand for this heresy. Patton suggested that if Roman couldn’t stand for it, he should just sit down. And that pretty much summed up Logan’s three best friends.

But despite Logan’s knowledge of all things philosophical, scientific, linguistic, and everything in between, he did have one rather large Achilles heel.

He did not understand emotions.

He had them, of course. He could hardly avoid them, being a homo sapiens of ordinary mental health with supremely emotional beings as his friends. Roman was always bursting with drama, exuberance, and Disney songs. Patton was sunshine incarnate with a perpetual smile and endless dad jokes. Virgil was more laid-back and sarcastic, but his issues with anxiety and his not-so-secret softer side still placed him firmly in the Has Feelings category.

Logan had feelings too. Joy when opening a fresh jar of jam, pride after receiving a good grade, frustration when Roman said something particularly dense. He just didn’t seem to…comprehend them as the others did. He often didn’t even realize what he was feeling, only noting the physical symptoms of the emotion.

For a while, he’d asked Patton what he was feeling and Patton had done his best to deduce the answer from the symptoms provided. That was a figurative hit-or-miss endeavor, however, and Logan found his stomach clenching at the sympathetic look on Patton’s face. He knew Patton meant well, but the experience of being pitied—was he being pitied, or was that a cognitive distortion, like the ones he always talked Virgil out of—the experience of feeling pitied was an unpleasant one. These days, he usually researched the symptoms on his own. It was even less accurate, but avoided the cloying feeling of vulnerability.

Logan tried not to be bitter about the situation. He understood so many things, it only made sense for life to give him a figurative handicap. And emotions were hardly the most important thing to understand anyway. He’d much rather know CPR than whether he was angry or merely annoyed. Those sorts of subtleties could be handled by his friends.

They didn’t seem to mind Logan’s…inexperience. They liked him just fine. More than ‘fine,’ in fact. Virgil and him had been friends since high school, back when Logan was even more unmanageable and walled-off. And Patton and Roman both helped him through the stress of college without judgment. The four of them worked, illogical as it was. Their different personalities didn’t clash, they just complemented each other like different shades to a painting. Logan couldn’t imagine having another friend group, and he didn’t want to imagine the circumstances in which he would be forced to find one.

For now, things were all right. Patton cheered them up, Roman pushed them forward, Virgil kept them safe, and Logan educated them. When Patton was sad or Roman was insecure or Virgil was panicking, they’d watch movies or practice breathing or simply talk until the problem was solved. Logan could handle the rational, intellectual part of the issue and Patton or Roman would cover the emotional side of things. Even Virgil, cynical as he was, had a sense for understanding insecurity and fear. Their system worked. If a problem was too emotional for Logan to handle, he could always call Patton or Roman or Virgil. It was simple.

Then came a problem he couldn’t get backup for.

Virgil had a crush.

No, that understated the issue. A simple crush would have been bearable. Virgil had a deep, desperate, all-consuming crush on Roman. It was the sort of crush that made him blush when they were in the same room. The sort of crush that sent him into hyperventilation when Roman said hello. The sort of crush that made him rant endlessly about Roman’s “stupid perfect face and stupid beautiful voice and stupid nice lovely wonderful smile—” until he resorted to simply screaming obscenities into his pillow.

And who did he rant to? None other than Logan Mackenzie, the singular most unqualified person in perhaps the entire Milky Way.

Logan understood Virgil’s predicament. He couldn’t talk about it to the object of his affections, of course. Patton was also out of the picture—him and Roman were thick as figurative thieves, and Patton would never keep a secret from anyone. He’d try, maybe, but he was a terrible liar and Roman would surely catch on.

Logan was the only possible option. They were roommates, they were friends, and Logan could keep a secret. And Logan, good friend as he was, did want to support Virgil through this emotional time.

However, he couldn’t say it didn’t get…tedious.

Especially as the crush showed no signs of fading, and Virgil still refused to tell Roman about it.

“Virgil,” Logan said, poking at the mop of purple hair he knew possessed his best friend. Virgil merely mumbled something that sounded like “stupid wonderful personality” and ignored him.

“Virgil,” Logan repeated, louder. “I’d like you to explain—"

“Why I don’t tell him. I know.” Virgil batted Logan’s hand away, poking his face above the covers. A residual blush still lingered on his face. “You’ve said that a million times.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed tautly. “Because it is the only possible conclusion to this fiasco and I don’t see why you can’t just get it over with.”

“Not the only possible conclusion,” Virgil grumbled. “It’ll probably go away soon.”

“Virgil, remind me how long you have had this crush?”

Virgil glared at him and didn’t respond.

“Fine, I’ll tell you the answer myself.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Eighty-three days and five hours.”

“You remember that?”

“Hard to forget,” Logan snapped, “when you have spent the majority of those eighty-three days complaining about Roman’s perfect eyebrows.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “But…have you seen his eyebrows, L?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. Because I see him every day, Virgil. He is my best friend.”

“Then you should appreciate my struggle.” Virgil rolled over, covering his head with a pillow. “I’m completely doomed.”

“Just tell him!” Logan burst out. “This crush will not end of its own accord. You need to confess your feelings, if only to lay your mind at rest. Roman is not currently in a relationship with anyone. He is pansexual and panromantic and could very easily reciprocate your feelings. Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t just tell him how you feel.”

Virgil groaned. “Is ‘everything’ a reason?”

“No.”

“Is ‘I just can’t’ a reason?”

“Also no.”

“Is ‘I’d rather die’ a reason?”

Logan raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Sometimes I don’t comprehend humanity.”

“Look, L, I…” Virgil struggled out from under his covers, pulling at a sleeve and avoiding his gaze. “What if he doesn’t like me? That way?”

“Then you will at least have some clarification instead of being stuck in a figurative limbo state.”

“What if it ruins our friendship? What if he thinks I’m weird or creepy or—”

“Virgil.” Logan carefully placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Roman is a good friend who values you deeply. I sincerely doubt this would ruin your friendship. Things may be different for a time, but you will not lose him over this. I promise.”

Virgil looked a little consoled. Still, he squeezed the blanket with both hands. “What if—what if he—”

Virgil fell silent. Logan tilted his head. “Yes?”

“Never mind, it’s…it’s stupid.”

“If it is bothering you, it’s not stupid.”

Virgil seemed to struggle with his thoughts for a second. Finally, he burst out: “What if he feels forced?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Logan said. “Could you elaborate?”

“What if he feels like…just ‘cause I like him…he needs to…” Virgil pulled at his sleeve, biting his lip. “I dunno…pretend? Date me to be nice? Out of pity? I don’t want…I don’t want him to feel…like he has to sacrifice his happiness so I can feel better.”

Something ached in Logan’s chest. It was a hard, sharp ache, with heat but no anger. Compassion, that’s what it was. Platonic love for his insecure, anxious, wonderful best friend.

“Virgil, look at me,” Logan instructed. Virgil slowly looked up, his brown eyes dark with worry. Logan reached out and brushed his purple bangs out of his eyes.

“Roman is not a cruel person.” Logan kept his voice soft, comforting. “He cares deeply about you, as I have said before. He would not string you on a figurative wild goose chase no matter his feelings for you. He is not a liar and he would not do such a thing out of pity for you. Roman does not, and never will, pity you.” Logan laughed quietly. “And sacrificing his own happiness for others sounds more like something you would do, Virgil.”

Virgil huffed with irritation. But his prickly expression soon faded. “Thanks, L.”

“It is my pleasure.”

Virgil nodded to himself. Then his face lit up, but just as soon as the excitement crossed his features, it flickered away again.

“What is it?” Logan asked, leaning forward on his chair.

Virgil bit his lip again. “Well…um, I had an idea…but it’s probably stupid and you don’t have to—um. Well. Maybe you could…see if Roman likes me? Ask him?”

Logan blinked. “Are you asking me to…clandestinely investigate whether Roman has romantic feelings for you as if we were back in high school?”

Virgil shrugged sheepishly. “…Maybe?”

“Unbelievable.” Logan sat back and crossed his arms. “Virgil, I would do many things for you. But I am not going to play matchmaker.”

“C’mon,” Virgil said. “I’ll let you have first pick at movie night and do your share of the dishes for a week and give you back your Alice in Wonderland puzzle book.”

“Tempting,” Logan admitted. “And if I do such a…juvenile venture, and find out that Roman holds romantic feelings for you, will you tell Roman of your crush?”

Virgil rubbed his face. “Do I have to?”

Logan gave him a level stare.

“Fine!” Virgil threw his hands in the air. “Fine. You win. If Roman likes me…maybe I’ll tell him. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Logan echoed.

“It’s the best you’re getting, Pocket Protector.” Virgil grinned. “Take it or leave it.”

Logan mulled over the question, but truly, it wasn’t much of a debate. He wanted Virgil to step up and take action. He wanted the pair of them to get together, if only to end Virgil’s ceaseless complaining. And…truly, he was a little curious who Roman did like. He often proclaimed that he wanted to sweep someone off their feet or slay a dragon for them or simply be in a romance, but Logan never heard a specific name attached to those fantasies. In fact, he couldn’t remember Roman ever talking about his crushes—strange indeed, when Logan had always thought of him as a romantic.

“Deal,” Logan said.

“Thanks, L. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I don’t think your life would be in jeopardy, unless you can die from pining—”

Virgil chucked a pillow at Logan’s head. “Shut up and get matchmaking, Cupid.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Virgil grinned like a cat who’d eaten a canary. And Logan wondered just what he’d gotten himself into.

                                                                                                                                It took a little work to find time with Roman alone. Patton stuck to him like a barnacle—they were roommates and both were extremely clingy. In fact, they often acted like they were dating, but Logan supposed they were just very touchy friends.

Perhaps they were dating in secret. Or Logan just didn’t know about it because they’d chosen not to tell him because he didn’t understand relationships and—okay, he was starting to sound like Virgil. They were not secretly dating. Patton couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and neither of them had any motivation to hide such a thing from Logan or Virgil. Roman was single and therefore, could possibly like Virgil back.

Logan just wanted Virgil happy and not pining sadly in his bedroom. Was that too much to ask for?

Finally, he managed to get Roman alone. It was during their traditional movie night, between Mulan and Pocahontas. Patton had realized they were out of popcorn and Logan convince Virgil to go with him to get some more. Virgil gave Logan a suspicious look, but after Logan motioned to Roman and quickly signed ‘I’ll ask him,’ Virgil let himself be dragged to the store with Patton. He didn’t seem entirely upset with the situation—though Virgil would deny it, he loved Patton. Though Patton never denied it, he loved Virgil back.

“Well, it’s just you and me, Specs.” Roman ducked behind the counter and came up with two mugs. He handed Logan the one that said ‘Best Mother Ever’ and kept the ‘I Drink Coffee to Hide the Pain’ mug for himself. Rooting around in the cupboard, Roman pulled out some hot chocolate mix.

“I’m not the best with this stuff—Patton’s a miracle worker, I swear—but I think it’ll do.”

“Hot chocolate in March?” Logan asked. “It’s fifty degrees outside.”

“Silence,” Roman ordered. “I’m bored and I wanna have sweet stuff. Don’t rain on my parade.”

Logan smiled as Roman began to make them the hot chocolate. Soon they both had a steaming mug of sweet melted chocolate. Logan stirred his and watched the steam curl in the air. Roman watched him out of the corner of his eye, a tentative smile on his face.

“What?” Logan asked.

Roman shrugged. “…Are you gonna drink it?”

Logan blew on the cup and took a sip. The sweetness warmed his throat, and he could feel it traveling to his stomach, making every extremity of his body warmer. Roman had stuck a sprig of peppermint

“It is…satisfactory,” Logan said, taking another sip.

Roman grinned. “Glad you approve, Microsoft Nerd.”

Logan sighed. “Why must you always insult me?”

“Hey, this is how I show my love!”

Jumping on this auspicious phrasing, Logan decided to put his plan into motion. Carefully maintaining his nonchalant tone, he said, “Is it now.”

“Yes!” Roman put his hands on his hips. “You may be insufferable and annoying and completely idiotic sometimes, but I care about you!”

A smile played around Logan’s lips. “Is that how you treat your princes and princesses? Insult them as you rescue them from the tower? I can’t imagine they’d like that very much.”

“Rude.” Roman shoved Logan, almost knocking over his ‘Best Mother Ever’ mug—why did they even have that mug? None of them were female—and giving him a roguish grin. “My romantic endeavors go just fine, thank you.”

“Oh really?” Logan tried to bridge the line between teasing banter and honest curiosity. Come on too strong, and Roman could get suspicious. “I wouldn’t know, you never talk about them.”

Roman shrugged. “I have to have some secrets, don’t I?”

Logan snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re dating someone in secret? A Romeo and Juliet situation, perhaps? I’m sorry to say that Patton might be a bit upset if you were banished for manslaughter.”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Roman said, laughing. Quietly, he added, “Not for lack of trying.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. Roman fidgeted uncomfortably before taking a large sip of hot chocolate and avoiding Logan’s gaze. Unfortunately, that hot chocolate seemed to be too hot. Roman swore, jumping back and batting at his tongue. Logan poured him some water, which he downed. Roman soon recovered enough to begin moaning about his injury and threatening to “get my revenge on this accursed cocoa by any means necessary.” Before Roman could bring out his sword and challenge the mug to an Agni Kai, Logan decided to ask his big question.

“…Roman, do you…I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but…”

Curses, why was this so hard? Roman’s face wrinkled in confusion and concern, eyebrows high.

“…Do you have feelings for anyone?”

Roman laughed lightly. “I have a lot of feelings, Specs. Be more specific.”

“Do you have…romantic feelings?” Logan clutched his cup. “I’m curious. You never speak about relationships in the specific…and you mention trying to date someone. It’s okay if you don’t want to disclose this information, but I would like to understand better.”

Roman sighed, staring into his cocoa. “It’s complicated, Specs.”

“Try me.”

“I…” Roman rubbed his hand across his eyes. “I don’t know. Yes, probably? There’s…someone I have in mind…but…oh, I don’t know. Why do things have to be so confusing? Where’s the line between they’re-just-a-friend and I-may-wanna-date-them? In stories it’s always so clear-cut, and they always fall for just—I mean, it’s always obvious that they like someone. It’s…it’s never been that way for me.”

Logan watched Roman with sympathy. “I can understand that. The line between platonic and romantic attraction is often blurry.”

“I know.” Roman was hunched over, tracing circles on the rim of his mug. “And I sincerely doubt anyone thinks of me that way, so it’s a moo point.”

“…a moot point.”

“That’s what I said.”

Logan chose not to comment. Instead, he said simply, “That’s not true.”

Roman’s head jerked up. “What?”

“That’s not true,” Logan repeated. Maybe he was breaking Virgil’s trust, just a little bit, but he could be vague. And how was he supposed to find out if Roman liked Virgil without bringing Virgil up?

“You mean…someone likes me?” Roman looked disbelieving, far too disbelieving, and Logan reminded himself to have another talk with Patton about Roman’s self-esteem.

Logan nodded. “Yes.”

“Who?”

“I can’t say,” Logan said, raising his mug. “They wouldn’t want me to tell their secret.”

“That’s fair,” Roman said.

Logan took a sip of hot chocolate.

“…it isn’t you, is it?”

And Logan almost spit out said sip of chocolate.

Roman thought—wait, he thought—

This was not good.

Instead of being rational, instead of thinking this through, Logan’s heartbeat skyrocketed and he panicked.

“What?” Logan yelped. “No! No, no, hell no. I would never want to date you.”

Roman looked like he’d been slapped. Hurt blossomed over his face. “Wow, thanks,” he said, the sarcasm sharp with wounded pride. “Glad you think so much of me.”

“No!” Logan set down his coffee and ran his hands through his hair. “That…didn’t…I didn’t mean it like that. I have nothing against you. You’re just…” Excuse, excuse, something, something! “…not my type?”

“Not your type?” Roman looked slightly mollified, and, oh no, now he was smiling in that teasing way of his. “What is your type, then?”

Logan sipped his cocoa and tried to maintain a figurative straight face. “Someone who doesn’t light their hand sanitizer on fire by accident.”

Offended noises followed that statement. “That was one time!” Roman protested. “And it was Remus’ fault!”

“Of course it was.” Logan rolled his eyes. “You two are natural disasters and threats to the peace of this nation.”

“Thank you!”

Logan sighed into his hot chocolate. Silence fell, slightly uncomfortable but not grating.

Finally, Roman asked, “Who is it?”

“I told you,” Logan said, finishing his cocoa and setting down the mug. “I can’t say.”

Roman pouted. “Meanie.”

“You were the one who said it was fair!”

“Well, now I’m curious!” Roman complained. “Can’t you give me a hint?”

Logan looked into Roman’s eyes. “Who do you want it to be?”

A blush rose to Roman’s cheeks. He hurriedly looked away. “I dunno…I mean…”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Logan walked over to the sink and began washing out his mug. “And I do not judge.”

Roman sighed dramatically behind him. “Must you force me into this confession, oh heartless one?”

“I’m not forcing you into anything.”

Another dramatic sigh. “Fine. I—I like—”

And then there was an indistinguishable mumble. Logan turned off the water and looked behind him. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I like Patton,” Roman whispered.

Oh.

“…and Virgil.”

Oh.

Logan tried not to let his excitement show. “I…didn’t realize you were polyamorous.”

“I didn’t tell anyone.” Roman shrugged. His voice was strangely brittle. “Until…now, I guess.”

“Well.” Logan walked over and leaned on the counter next to Roman. “…Thank you. For telling me.”

Roman gave a small, insincere smile that quickly vanished. “You don’t think it’s…weird?”

“Of course not.” Logan channeled all his certainty into his words. “Many people are polyamorous. It’s not ‘weird’ any more than it is ‘weird’ for some people to be bisexual, or aromantic, or demisexual. It’s a way of experiencing sexual or romantic attraction that is no less valid than any other.”

“Huh.” That small smile returned, more sincere this time. “Thanks, Specs.”

“It’s no issue.”

“Thanks.” Roman fidgeted slightly. “It’s not fun, you know.”

“What isn’t?” Logan asked.

“I dunno.” Roman waved a hand in his usual flamboyant gesturing, but something about it was ragged. “Liking two people gives double the heartbreak. I’d settle for one of them—I’d love to be with one of them, but it’ll never happen.” Recovering himself, he pressed a hand to his forehead and wilted. “Woe is me, I shall never be loved by my loves.”

Logan chuckled. “How do you know?”

“Well, I did,” Roman clarified. “Now you’ve cruelly given me hope.”

“Cruel indeed.” Logan traced his fingers over the counter. “Imagine, one of the two people you’re closest to might have romantic feelings for you as well. How improbable. It’s not like platonic relationships often lead to romantic ones.”

Roman laughed. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Dee too much.”

“Roman,” Logan said. “It is not out of the picture for at least one of your objects of affection to reciprocate your feelings.” He avoided Roman’s eyes. “I, for one, think you are…a good person. Kind, smart, funny…I can see how someone might fall for you.”

Okay, this was getting into territory he didn’t like. Time to backtrack. “In fact, as you and I know, someone does hold those feelings for you.”

“Is it…one of them?” Roman asked. The hesitant hope in his face was almost heartbreaking.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Logan said. “Even if it was one of them, I wouldn’t know the feelings of the other.”

“Hmm.” Roman furrowed his brow. Then his face lit up. “Hey, Professor Plum?”

“Don’t call me that, the character in the movie Clue is a scoundrel and a disgrace to academia—”

“Miss White,” Roman corrected.

“Hardly better.”

“Wadsworth,” Roman settled on. “Could you—since you know about this—could you find out if either of them—”

Foreboding filled Logan. “Please don’t say you want me to—”

“—play Matchmaker?” Roman smiled sheepishly. “Maybe?”

“Oh, Newton.” Logan rubbed his eyes. “Roman, please say you’re joking.”

“I’m not!” Roman seemed pleased with the idea, the exact opposite of Logan’s feelings on the matter. “You could just ask Virgil and Patton if they like anyone, and see if either of them like me.”

“Roman.” Logan sighed loudly. “There are several fallacies with this plan. For one, I may already have information on them. For another, I would be betraying their trust by telling you. You could not gain any information from this venture and I am not going to be complicit in it—”

“…Please?” Roman asked. “You can just find out if they like anyone else, and then you can tell me if they don’t, if I have a shot, and—”

Something fiery and hot was growing in Logan’s chest. Annoyance or anger? Probably the former, since Roman didn’t mean to do this. Still...it burned.

“—and most likely I won’t, but there are two chances, right? And—”

“Roman.”

“—I’m just really curious now, I’m tired of pining—”

“Roman!”

“—this is turning into a romantic comedy, it’s painful—”

“Roman, Virgil likes you!”

Roman immediately froze. His eyes widened, then widened even further, until there seemed to be more whites than irises.

Something heavy and cloying twisted in Logan’s stomach. Shame? Guilt? Fear? Something, definitely. He’d betrayed Virgil’s trust.

But on the surface was still annoyance, and Logan let it out.

“He sent me to find out your crush and get me to play Matchmaker! Now you’re asking me to do the same thing, and I am most certainly not creeping behind both of your backs and being a double agent for your silly romantic antics! Please just communicate with each other like adults before I go insane!”

Roman’s mouth was hanging open. He closed it, swallowed, and opened it again.

“…Wait,” Roman said. “…Virgil likes me?”

“Yes.” Logan felt his anger fade.

“…Are you sure?”

“He’s been ranting about your beautiful eyelashes for months, so I’d say I’m pretty sure.”

Roman looked like Logan had smacked him in the face, let loose a flash grenade between his eyes, and began singing All Star in an Elvis costume. “Really?”

Logan wanted to chuck Roman at the wall. “Yes, really. I do not propagate falsehoods, Roman.”

“Wow.” Roman still appeared shell-shocked. “I didn’t expect…I mean…wow.”

“Wow indeed,” Logan said, pushing himself off the counter and heading to the couch. “Do what you will with this information, Roman. My part here is done.”

“Logan…” Roman followed, tossing himself on the couch and grabbing a blanket. “Thanks.”

“It was no problem. In fact, it was my pleasure.” Logan placed himself on the other side of the couch, reaching for the bowl of chips. “I am glad this ordeal is over with.”

“Well, it isn’t yet, Teach.” Roman smiled. “I still need to ask him out. I’m thinking the first day of spring, a garden—”

“Do it now.”

“What?”

“Do it now,” Logan said. “As soon as Virgil comes back. Before you can A) talk yourself out of it or B) design some ridiculously complicated endeavor that would most likely leave Virgil overwhelmed.”

Roman scoffed. “When have I ever done something like that?”

Logan pointedly glared at him.

Roman sunk into the couch cushions, crossing his arms petulantly. “Fine.”

“Good.”

Roman grabbed the TV remote and turned the TV back on. The loading screen for Pocahontas showed. He pressed play.

“They’ll miss it,” Logan complained.

“We’ll start it over.” Roman’s face was determined in the light of the screen, which accentuated the flop of his brown hair and the firm jaw that swept under his crooked smile. Logan narrowed his eyes, trying to see whether Roman’s eyebrows were anything special. They appeared normal, brown and defined, but maybe from another angle—

“What are you doing?” Roman asked, turning and meeting Logan’s eyes.

“Nothing,” Logan said. “Let’s watch.”

They made it fifteen minutes into the movie before Patton and Virgil returned. Patton had gotten sidetracked with petting a cute dog and the store had a long line. Virgil dumped the popcorn in a bowl and Patton gave Logan and Roman hugs despite seeing them only half an hour before.

“You started already?” Virgil complained.

“Rest easy, Maleficent. We’ll start over.” Roman’s face darkened with a slight blush. “But um…actually…could we talk for a sec? Alone?”

Panic flitted over Virgil’s face. He glanced at Logan, who gave him an encouraging smile.

“O-okay,” Virgil agreed, fidgeting with his hoodie. “Sure.”

“Cool.” Roman led Virgil down the hallway to Patton’s bedroom. “Pat, is it okay if we go in here? My room’s a mess.”

“Sure thing, kiddo!” Patton called. Roman smiled and they walked through the doorway, Roman shutting the door behind them.

“What’re they up to?” Patton asked, settling on the couch next to Logan.

“Can’t tell you that,” Logan said. “I’ve spilled enough secrets today.”

Patton looked at him curiously but apparently decided not to comment.

And they sat in silence, Patton munching on the popcorn, Logan watching the clock and praying whatever was going on, it was good.

After five minutes, Virgil and Roman emerged. Roman was beaming, and Virgil had a small, shy smile on his face. Logan noticed their hands were brushing each other—not intertwined, not yet, but comfortably side-by-side.

Virgil sat next to Logan and Roman sat next to Patton. Patton’s questions about their conversation were brushed off, and Patton soon conceded the issue and turned on the movie again. As Pocahontas sang, Virgil leaned over to Logan and punched him in the arm. Logan hissed in pain. “What was that for?” he whispered.

“Telling him.” Virgil was smirking, however, and Logan knew he was forgiven.

“It worked out, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Virgil looked over at Roman, whose smile still hadn’t faded. Roman saw Virgil and smiled even wider, getting a smile in return.

“Yeah, I think it did.”

                                                                                                                               Something was wrong with Patton.

It was about three months since Roman and Virgil had begun officially dating. The amount of pining-based rants had sharply dipped. Unfortunately, they were replaced by what-do-I-wear-to-a-coffee-date rants and holy-shit-we-kissed-Logan-we-kissed-help rants and what-if-he-secretly-hates-me-should-I-break-up-with-him-before-he-does rants. What’s more, he also began receiving more calls and texts from Roman along the lines of “What’s Virgil’s favorite food” and “Does he like park dates” and “He hasn’t texted me back yet does he hate me is he going to break up with me,” so Logan resigned himself to his fate. Dating they might be, adorable and sweet and supportive they might be, but Logan would still have to deal with their gay panic.

However, his somewhat inept support of them had apparently deemed him “Emotionally Competent.” It was a false label and a new label, replacing his old one of “We Ask Him About Stars, Not Feelings.” Logan didn’t feel he deserved this new designation, but like it or not, he was now someone who could Help With Feelings.

That’s why he was the one talking to Patton.

Well, that wasn’t the whole story. It was also because Patton’s strange behavior was mostly limited to Roman and Virgil. He was kind and sweet and cheerful, but his smile always seemed strained when in their company. More often than not, he excused himself from group activities early, only talked to Logan, or even—according to a concerned Virgil—being strangely distant one-on-one. Sometimes Logan spotted Patton staring at Roman and Virgil, an inexplicably sad look on his face, but when confronted he immediately smiled and said it was nothing. Roman and Virgil, worried they had done something wrong, enlisted Logan to discover the source of the problem.

And the newly Emotionally Competent Logan couldn’t say no.

It was Patton, after all. Sweet, lovely, amazing Patton. If something was truly wrong, he would not hesitate to attempt assistance. He cared deeply for Patton. And although his recent behavior didn’t extend to Logan—in fact, by process of elimination, Logan actually ended up being with Patton more than on average—he still wanted the old Patton back.

So, after an afternoon in Patton and Roman’s apartment that consisted of a violently competitive game of Monopoly—Roman tried to place a hotel on a railroad, Patton traded properties with everyone to help them win, and after Logan collected the Free Parking money totaling 564 dollars, Virgil chucked a shoe at his head—Logan decided to stay behind, help Patton clean up the mess, and ask him a few questions.

Patton seemed to be his normal self. He gladly assisted Logan with the cleanup, cracking jokes and telling the story of a very nice cat he’d met at the animal shelter he volunteered for.

“You’re allergic to cats,” Logan pointed out for the twenty-seventh time.

“I know,” Patton said with a pout. “But she was so cute! And her little fluffy ears…she was purr-fect!”

“I do hope you took your medicine.”

“Of course I did, kiddo!”

Logan smiled. “Roman reminded you, didn’t he?”

Patton giggled and booped Logan’s nose. Had they been with company, Logan wouldn’t have allowed such a thing. But Patton was exhilarating, energetic, so full of life, so contagious—and no one could see anyway. He didn’t mind. In fact, he leaned forward and booped Patton back. Patton’s delighted squeal was worth it.

Tossing a few more pieces into the box, Logan debated how he would tackle the issue. He didn’t want to alarm or upset Patton, or force him to tell anything he didn’t want to. What’s more, Patton would probably deny the problem like he often did, pretending everything was fine. Getting around Patton’s emotional wall would be a challenge.

It was a good thing Logan liked challenges.

But he’d been silent for too long. Patton’s face furrowed in a frown, and he leaned forward, tapping Logan on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” Logan said.

“You just…kinda spaced out there for a sec.” Patton tilted his head. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Logan closed the box. “Yes. I think so.”

“Well, then.” Patton sat on the carpet and patted the spot next to him. “I’m all ears!”

Logan hesitantly sat next to Patton. “You’re not all ears, you consist of many different organs—”

Patton giggled. “So I ‘ear.”

“Alright then.” Logan decided to let the pun slide. “Patton…I…”

“It’s okay, kiddo.” Patton’s voice was soft. “You can talk to me.”

Then Logan realized. He couldn’t think of this like a puzzle or a mystery like with Roman. Patton responded to emotion. If he wanted results, he needed to have an honest, emotional conversation.

Shit.

Well, here went nothing.

“Patton, I’m worried about you.”

Patton blinked. A startled laugh escaped his mouth. “Wha—me?”

“Yes.” Logan maintained eye contact—Patton’s eyes were blue, contrasting with his curly blond hair. They reminded Logan of freshwater pools, teeming with life, or the shade of the Earth when seen from space. “You’ve been behaving strangely, and I’m worried. Is everything alright?”

“Well, shucks!” Patton smiled. “I appreciate the concern, kiddo, but I’m doing fine-and-dandy over here. Why are you worried?”

“Because you’ve been distant.” Logan’s eyes were beginning to sting from the prolonged eye contact, but he kept looking at Patton. “You’re avoiding Roman and Virgil. You’re talking to me instead of them. They’ve noticed too, and they’re worried they did something to hurt you. Something that made you…wary. Closed-off.”

Patton’s smile faded for a second. “Ro and Virge? They think I…I’m mad at them?”

“They want to make sure you’re okay.” Logan finally dropped his gaze. “So do I.”

Patton made a little sad noise in his throat. “I…I’m not mad at them! I never meant them to think—they didn’t do anything! They’re wonderful!”

“I’m glad, and I suspected that,” Logan said. “So could you tell me, if they haven’t done anything…why are you avoiding them?”

Patton pressed his lips together. His smile was completely gone now.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready,” Logan said. Carefully, he reached out and touched Patton’s arm. “But I care about you. We care about you. If something is hurting or inhibiting you…we want to help.”

Patton gave a short, shaky nod. “I—”

“Take your time.”

“I—” Patton’s face crumpled. “I’m being stupid.”

“I hardly think so,” Logan said. “If it is distressing you, it is not stupid.”

“Right.” Patton gave a watery smile. “You know, Logan, I never told you how much I like that tie of yours! It adds a lot to your a-tie-re, you should knot think of giving it up en-tie-rly!”

Logan ran his hand down his blue tie. “Thank you, Patton.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo!”

“…but you’re deflecting,” he added softly. Carefully, letting Patton stop him if he wanted to, Logan placed his arm around Patton’s shoulders. “I’m not asking you about my tie. I’m asking about you, Patton.”

Patton’s shoulders began to shake under Logan’s arm, and before he knew it, his best friend was crying into his shirt.

Logan didn’t interrupt. He stroked Patton’s back gently, letting Patton release his tears. After a few minutes of sobbing, Patton hiccupped twice and began to apologize.

“Stop,” Logan murmured. “It’s not your fault. You needed to get that out.”

“I—” Patton began to cry again. “I’m being so selfish—they’re so nice, and wonderful, and they care about each other, they love each other, and I want them to be happy—they’re happy!—so why am I—why do I feel—"

“Breathe, Patton.” Logan lay a hand on Patton’s head and began stroking his hair. Patton clutched Logan’s polo shirt tighter, almost hugging him as he cried. At this point Patton was almost in Logan’s lap, curled into his chest, pressed against Logan’s heart.

“It’s okay,” Logan said, letting Patton’s curls cascade around his hand. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m going to ruin it for them—”

“You love them.” Logan kept his voice quiet, giving Patton a chance to back out. “Yes?”

Slowly, Patton nodded.

“Then that is not your fault,” Logan assured him. “You cannot control your feelings any more than…any more than one can stop a river from flowing. Yes, you can dam up the river, but eventually it will break through and cause more damage. The only way to deal with the problem is to go with the flow.” Logan tenderly brushed a few locks of hair from Patton’s head. “You need to ride with the current, Patton. Ignoring the problem and pushing away people you love in the process…that’s repression, and just like with the dam, it will only make things worse when emotions do break through.”

Patton gave a watery giggle. “You’re so smart, Lolo.”

Logan felt something twitch at the nickname—annoyance, probably. Annoyance that made his face burn red. But now was not the time.

“…I have to tell them, don’t I?” Patton asked quietly.

“You don’t have to do anything.” Gently, Logan took Patton’s hands and pulled them from his shirt, folding their fingers together and rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Patton’s hands. “But I would recommend it.”

Patton’s lip wobbled. “What if they hate me? Or they think I’m weird, or—”

Despite himself, Logan smiled. “Any excuse you give me, believe me. I’ve heard it before. When Virgil and Roman didn’t want to confess their feelings. I think we both know how that turned out.”

He got a small, hesitant smile in return. A smile that could outshine the sun.

“They’re so wonderful…” Patton sighed wistfully, staring into nothing. “Virgil…Roman…they just—everything they do, they’re so strong, they—you know how wonderful they are, right, Lo?”

Logan thought of Virgil’s snappy retorts, Roman’s overblown theatrics, and how they seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces. Night and day, moon and sun, yin and yang, opposites that complemented each other and helped each other grow. Virgil, with his wry smile and astute observations and sewing skills. Roman, with the theater he loved so much and the friends he loved even more, always ready to seize the day and create something new. They couldn’t see the worth within themselves, the light that shone in their eyes, but they could see each other’s. And Logan could see theirs.

“Yes, I know.” Logan smiled into Patton’s hair. “At least, I’m starting to.”

                                                                                                                               Despite Patton’s worries, the conversation went well. Roman, of course, was thrilled—he’d loved Patton for months. Virgil, although he admitted he had never thought of Patton that way, was still open to the idea. And after a few months, it was clear he was falling head-over-heels.

It was the three of them now. Virgil-Roman-Patton. Virgil and Roman’s snappy banter and nervous kisses were now complemented by Patton’s boundless compassion and propensity for snuggling. It was not uncommon for Virgil to spend the night at Roman and Patton’s apartment, the three piled on the couch amidst various blankets and pillows, The Emperor’s New Groove playing as they fell asleep.

Of course, despite Logan’s new status as the figurative Fourth Wheel—a misleading term, because four-wheeled mechanisms of transportation were far more common than three-wheeled ones—they still made sure Logan felt included. They still had movie nights, one-on-one conversations, friendly walks to the park or to the store. Logan didn’t begrudge their new need for only-the-three-of-them days. It made sense—they were dating. They wanted time on their own. And it made something in his chest loosen with warmth when he saw them together, smiling and laughing, fitting together like pieces in a puzzle. They were his friends, and he was happy they were happy. Even if ridiculous levels of PDA did make his chest sting a bit.

The day things changed wasn’t a day at all. It was a night, and it was a night in the city, and it was the night Logan realized something very important.

The problem was, it would have been a great night if he hadn’t.

It was fall. The air was nippy and chilled, leaves beginning to lose their chlorophyll and reveal the fiery shades underneath. Virgil was already counting down the days until Halloween—Logan came home from school one day to see him draping spiderwebs across every available surface, bopping along to This is Halloween.

Roman had just landed a part in a local production of Into the Woods—Prince Charming. Virgil jumped on the opportunity for a nickname and soon Prince Charming, or Princey for short, was his pet name for Roman. Roman acted offended, but it was a term of endearment and a reminder of his success as an actor, so Logan guessed he didn’t really mind.

To celebrate, Patton decided they should all go out for dinner together. He recommended a Mexican place downtown, and Virgil and Roman were thrilled. Logan, assuming it was going to be a date, didn’t respond to the invite. That got him yelled at.

Princey: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T INVITED

Princey: WE MADE THESE PLANS IN THE GROUP CHAT

Princey: THE GROUP CHAT THAT YOU ARE IN

Princey: IF WE DIDN’T WANT U, WOULD WE HAVE TOLD U WHEN/WHERE/WHY IT WAS HAPPENING?

Pattoncake: Calm down Ro!!

Pattoncake: it was just a misunderstanding

Pattoncake: but you’re coming right Lolo?

Princey: You’d better

Princey: This is a night to celebrate MY AMAZINGNESS and ALL my favorite people must be there

Emo Nightmare: if u don’t come i’ll probly end up murdering princey for singing agony too much

Princey: IT IS A GREAT SONG AND I WILL FIGHT YOU WITH MY BEAUTIFULLY MANICURED SWORD

Pattoncake: okay let’s calm down, no murder on Roro’s big night!

Emo Nightmare: ok I wont kill princey

Emo Nightmare: but ill kill L if he doesn’t show up

Pattoncake: That’s not really better.

Princey: I stand with you Virgil! The nerd shall come or be PUNISHED BY DEATH!

Emo Nightmare: yep

Pattoncake: No!!!!

Pattoncake: if he doesn’t come, that’s okay

Pattoncake: I’ll just eat all his crofters! I’m sure he won’t mind!

Emo Nightmare: holy shit patton’s bringing out the big guns

Lo-bot: Fine. I will come. Please do not threaten me or my jam.

Princey: Wait that worked?

Pattoncake: I know Lolo well!! ;)

Emo Nightmare: okay that was actually kind of terrifying

Lo-bot: Also, please stop calling me LoLo.

Emo Nightmare: quiet lolo

Princey: LMAO already changed your name

Lolo: …Pardon me while I scream.

So Logan went to the date—the not-a-date-anymore, the date-except-Logan-is-here. He met up with Patton and Roman and Virgil, the brisk autumn wind making his cheeks red, wearing a woolen greatcoat and grey checkered scarf. Virgil said he was overdressed for the temperature. Patton said he looked like Sherlock. Roman said that the eighteen-hundreds called and they wanted their nerd back.

Patton was wearing a pale blue shirt and a cardigan with soft jeans. Little cat patterns were sewed on his knees. Virgil had his usual black-and-purple hoodie, and Roman had a red-and-gold jacket over a plain white shirt. They made quite the team, walking down to the restaurant, Roman waving at everyone and Patton running up to pet every dog in the vicinity.

The restaurant’s food was delicious. They got several plates of food and shared them—a pile of roasted chicken, a bean soup, a salad, a bowl of yucca fries, and other wraps and dishes. Roman only sang Agony once, and he kept his volume low.

“What else?” Patton asked as they stretched, bellies full, and made their way to the door. “It’s dark but it’s still early.”

They decided to walk around the city for a while. The lights were on, windows glowing in the dark. Streetlights illuminated their skins, creating halos of light around Patton’s curly hair and Virgil’s smug smile and Roman’s breathless grin. The sidewalk was busy, the roads even busier, but they still had stretches to themselves. It was a wild night, the sort of night that seemed separate from any day before or after it, crisp and clear and alive.

Laughing and talking, the four walked down a few blocks. They had no destination in mind, but there was something to see around every corner. Even though Logan knew this city like the back of his hand, everything looked different in the dark.

“This is wonderful,” Patton breathed. His hand was intertwined with Virgil’s, and he was leaning slightly on Roman’s shoulder. “Thank you guys.”

“No problem, Pop Star,” Virgil muttered fondly.

“Thank you!” Roman exclaimed. “It was your idea, after all.”

Logan opened his mouth to add something, but instead, he stayed silent. He had noticed, all of a sudden, that he was slightly apart and slightly behind the three of them. They walked like a single organism, intertwined and in-step. Logan was tacked on at the end, out of sync.

Not a fourth wheel, but a fourth point on a triangle. A fourth leg on a tripod. A fourth Musketeer. There was a fourth Musketeer, he vaguely remembered from English class, but he wasn’t important. He certainly wasn’t memorable.

The Rule of Three. Everything came in threes—heaven earth underworld, comedy tragedy history, reduce reuse recycle. Virgil-Roman-Patton.

So what if he was the fourth wheel? They wanted him here. They asked him to come. They were still his best friends.

Logan shook off the thoughts and walked faster, joining up with the others again. Conversation had moved on without him, and he struggled to get a sense of the discussion.

“Anywhere we want to go?” Roman was asking.

“I need more ramen,” Virgil said.

“We’re not going grocery shopping on a date—on Roman’s day,” Patton quickly amended. Logan ignored the stab he felt at those words. “And I can just cook some real noodles for you! You need to eat healthier food anyways.”

“Ramen is healthy,” Virgil grumbled.

Logan looked around and saw a bookstore nearby. It was one of his favorites, actually, and the lights were still on. They’d been there before, the four of them looking for birthday presents for each other, hiding books behind themselves and trying to clandestinely pay for them, finding strange books and funny books and books for kids and simply having fun. Patton squealing as Roman picked him up and deposited him on a beanbag, Virgil doing a dramatic reading of Fifty Shades of Grey, Logan purchasing a Ravenclaw robe and refusing to take it off. It was one of Logan’s favorite memories, and afterwards, he’d returned to the bookstore because when he closed his eyes, he could hear their laughter and watch Patton blush and Virgil smirk and Roman gasp and all of them together.

Logan opened his mouth to suggest they go to the bookstore, but Patton had already suggested something else, and Roman was pressing a kiss to Patton’s head and leading them on, and something was twisting in Logan’s throat. Something ugly, choking, white-hot. He remained silent.

Slowly, he drifted away.

Finally he was almost six feet behind them, watching them glow in the street lights, snatches of conversation and laughter drifting back to him. He watched Virgil shove Roman and Roman shove Virgil back, Patton inserting himself between the pair and chiding them.

Logan felt…he felt like something was clawing at his insides. He felt like his breath was labored, something jammed in his throat. He felt a terrible fire kindling in his stomach, and another burning sensation around his eyes. His mouth was dry and his hands were clenched so his knuckles showed white caps of bone.

This wasn’t feeling left-out. This wasn’t just feeling like a fourth wheel. It was something more.

Carefully, Logan peeled back the anger—was it anger? Just pain? Sadness? Fear? He didn’t know, he couldn’t tell, but something was definitely hurting, shattered and broken and piercing his veins.

It was want, crawling through him.

Of course. He wanted things to be normal, he wanted them to be friends without crashing a date every time he came with. He wanted time with them, he wanted—he wanted—

He wanted to be there, under the streetlights, as Patton shivered and Roman pulled his jacket off. Soon Patton was wearing it over the cardigan, a ridiculous combination that he managed to pull off. He wanted to be with them, not six feet behind, getting no glances or acknowledgments. He wanted to slot between them like a piece to their puzzle, feel Roman’s arm as it wrapped around Patton and Virgil, link hands with Patton like Virgil did with Roman, let Patton give a kiss to his cheek like—

Oh.

Oh.

Logan stopped dead on the sidewalk.

Oh, shit.

Frantically, he tried to think of another explanation for his feelings. But now that he’d admitted even a sliver of it to himself, a figurative dam broke in his mind. Hundreds of glances, touches, flutterings in the chest, suddenly made sense. Patton, Roman, Virgil, his best friends, who he’d spent years with. Patton’s smile, Virgil’s laugh, Roman’s voice—they were as much a part of Logan as his DNA.

He loved them. He always had.

But…he didn’t just love them as friends, did he?

Friends didn’t want to hold hands with other friends. Friends didn’t want to kiss other friends. Friends didn’t want to walk down a gleaming sidewalk at night, shoulders bumping together, steps all in sync.

Logan was still motionless. Lights glowed around him, but the world seemed blurry and off-kilter. He couldn’t feel the cold on his cheeks or the warmth of his scarf. He closed his eyes and opened them. The world was still disorientating, swimming around him, lights dancing like fish in the ocean.

Up ahead, Roman-Virgil-Patton had stopped at a crosswalk. After a few seconds, Virgil looked back, probably assuming Logan was a few steps behind them. Alarm crossed his face when he realized Logan was still standing in the center of the sidewalk.

Logan tried to shake some sense into himself as Virgil approached. He couldn’t just stand there! They’d get concerned! He took a wobbly step forward, then another. His feet seemed disconnected from his ankles.

“Lo?” Virgil asked. Roman and Patton were behind him, identical expressions of worry on their faces. “Everything okay?”

Logan opened his mouth to say he was fine, they should just continue. But did he want to keep walking with them? Did he want to keep crashing their night, keep staring at what he couldn’t have? They didn’t need him here, that much was obvious. He should just make it easy on them and leave of his own accord.

“I am adequate,” Logan said. “However, I have just realized it is later than I expected. Due to my classes tomorrow that necessitate an early rise, I must ask for permission to conclude this venture.”

Here he went with the overly complex words. Although Logan had a naturally sesquipedalian nature, he noticed a marked increase in long sentences when he was nervous. Hopefully the others would dismiss the verbal tic as ‘Logan being Logan.’

Patton checked his watch and gasped. “Oh my goodness, it is late! Almost ten o’clock already! I’m so sorry, Lolo!”

“It is no trouble,” Logan assured him. “It is only natural that you lost track of time.”

Virgil shrugged. “I guess that’s it, then? We can head back.”

“Aw, come on.” Roman pouted. It looked far less cute when he did it than Patton. “Can’t Specs miss one class for me? The night’s just getting started. Who cares about proper education when you could be with us?”

“My teachers,” Logan pointed out. “And myself.”

“Boo.”

“Now, now, Roman!” Patton waggled a gloved finger at his boyfriend. “You gotta respect Lolo’s decision. He’s his own person. And he was very kind to take the evening off to support you.”

“Ugh, fine.” Roman sighed. “Let’s go back.”

Logan frowned. Something tugged at his stomach when he thought about them ending their adventure early on his account. “You can continue on without me. I do not mind.”

“No, it’s okay!” Patton smiled. “It’s about time to turn in!”

“I insist,” Logan said. “I do not want your evening to conclude preemptively due to my own scheduling.”

“It won’t be the same without you,” Roman complained.

Logan couldn’t resist snapping back. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Virgil and Patton glanced at each other. Fortunately, they decided not to comment. Virgil only said “Be careful walking home on your own. Text me when you get back.”

“I will. Thank you for your concern.” Logan stuffed his fingers in his pockets and turned away. “I hope you have a wonderful night.”

“Bye!” Patton called, waving frantically.

“Farewell!” Roman proclaimed.

Virgil gave his customary two-fingered salute.

Logan simply raised a hand in return, turning the corner and walking out of sight.

And the universe granted him a small boon—it began to rain, softly and gently on the concrete. Soon Logan was dripping wet, droplets sliding down his face.

When he began to cry, he knew no one could tell. His tears were hidden by the rain.

So Logan Mackenzie let himself cry.

                                                                                                                                Logan could not avoid the others. He lived with Virgil, after all, and Roman and Patton both loved attention and were intuitive enough to pinpoint when something was wrong. So Logan knew it was fruitless to try and push them away. They would only get suspicious, concerned, and hurt.

Still, illogical as he knew it was, he tried.

For three days he didn’t answer his phone. He didn’t speak with Roman or Patton. When Virgil knocked on his door or asked him questions, he fielded them with monosyllabic replies and assertions of “Everything is fine, I am just caught up with studying.” Virgil didn’t buy it—of course, of course he didn’t buy it, he was so smart and perceptive and that was one of the millions of reasons Logan loved him, and here he went down that rabbit hole again.

It was like realizing his feelings had opened a figurative floodgate. Roman, Patton, and Virgil were on his mind all the time. He drank coffee and was reminded of Roman’s cocoa. He wrestled with math equations and remembered tutoring Virgil in high school. He closed his eyes at night and thought of Patton, curled up by his side.

Logan couldn’t take it.

Once in a while he checked his phone. The long lines of worried texts from Patton and Roman made something squeeze in his chest. He waited for them to inevitably peter out and stop. They didn’t.

They probably thought he was sick or dying or something. Hadn’t Virgil told them he was perfectly fine? Sure, they may have assumed he was suffering from some sort of emotional problem, but did that really deserve all this concern?

Finally, after a particularly desperate bout of texting around midnight, Logan wrote back. He kept it short and simple.

Lolo: In response to your queries, I am doing well. Please cease your attempts to contact me. Thank you.

Logan honestly didn’t expect them to write back. He’d given them an easy out from the situation. They no longer had to feel guilty about him and could go about their lives.

But—

Princey: WHAT

Pattoncake: Kiddo are u okay?

Princey: LOGAN WE’RE NOT GONNA STOP WHAT

Pattoncake: u know we love u, right?

Emo Nightmare: call me

Pattoncake: you’re our friend

Princey: YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT

Emo Nightmare: logan please call me

Emo Nightmare: now

Logan swallowed. Slowly, he dialed Virgil’s number.

Virgil picked up on the first ring. “Dude, what the hell?”

“I—”

“No. Shut up. I’m going to keep talking.” Virgil paused and sighed. “L…we’re really worried about you.”

“Where are you?” Logan asked.

“Ro and Pat’s.”

Logan bit his lip. “Of course.”

“I can come home.” A loud rustling sounded from Virgil’s end. “I’m putting on my jacket, I can be there in ten—”

“Not necessary, Virgil.” Logan ran his fingers through his hair. He’d prefer it if he didn’t have to see Virgil’s face at all, with the soft purple bangs hanging over his dark eyes and the light freckles he pretended he didn’t have and—

Off topic.

“I just…” Virgil’s voice was soft and concerned, and Logan cursed himself for making that worry appear. “This is so sudden, L. Did we do something? Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad!” Logan hastily said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what?” Virgil asked. “I…look, L, if we made you feel—uncomfortable, or anything, I’m sorry…”

“Uncomfortable?”

“You seemed pretty out-of-it when we celebrated with Roman, I guess I just assumed.” Virgil paused. “You’re my friend too, and I care about you. No matter if I’m dating you or not.”

“Right.” Logan swallowed. “What about Patton and Roman?”

“What about them?” Virgil asked incredulously. “They’ve been texting you frantically for the past three days, Patton’s stressbaked enough food to end world hunger twice over, and Roman’s temper is on a hair trigger. You really think they don’t feel the same way I do?”

Logan ran his thumb across his phone case. “No, I—”

“You what, L?” Virgil’s voice dropped. “Please. I’m worried about you. Just…talk to me.”

What could Logan say? That he suddenly realized he had been harboring crushes on his three best friends for perhaps a year and a half? That he didn’t want to see them again because it would only deepen the infatuation and he was bound to give himself away or look like a fool? That he didn’t want to make his friends uncomfortable, because it would be nothing but awkward if the truth did come to light?

“It’s complicated.” Logan sighed. “I…I have a few things I need to figure out, Virgil. Just…can you give me some more time? A week?” That wouldn’t be enough time to suffocate his affections entirely, but it could allow him to think of a better game plan. “Stay at Patton and Roman’s apartment for a while. I know you do that often anyway. I just…I need some time alone.”

Virgil was silent for a few seconds. “Can you promise Patton’s three rules? You’re not hurting anyone, no one’s hurting you, you’re not hurting yourself?”

Logan channeled all his certainty into his voice. “No one is being harmed. This is not a matter of such grave importance. It is just an—identity issue.”

“Well, alright. If you say you need it.” Virgil didn’t sound fully convinced. “You can always call me or Pat, okay? There’s extra food in the freezer, make sure you have your full meals and go to bed at a reasonable time, okay?”

“Virgil, it is currently one in the morning.”

Virgil paused. “Huh. So it is.”

Logan clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Whatever. My point still stands. Go to bed.” Logan could almost hear Virgil’s smirk. “Always keeping me on my toes, aren’t you, L?”

“You don’t need any help with that,” Logan said.

“True, I’ve got the anxiety.” Virgil clicked his tongue. “So…well…I guess that’s that, then? Call me anytime, eat your veggies, brush your teeth, listen to your parents?”

Logan huffed. “I should be telling you that instead.”

“Shut up,” Virgil said. “You’ll be okay?”

“I…” Logan hesitated. “I hope so.”

“Me too,” Virgil muttered. “Because I love Patton’s baking, I promise, but I’ve eaten more cookies than should be humanly possible. I don’t think my hoodie will fit anymore.”

Logan laughed again. “I will take that into account.”

“All right.” Virgil’s voice dipped. “Love you, L.”

It was a simple phrase. They said it all the time, platonically. It was a way of expressing affection, and although Logan had trouble verbalizing feelings and Virgil had trouble showing emotional vulnerability, they had both gotten better at the phrase over the years. It slipped out easily now, with barely a second thought. Of course he loved Virgil. And Patton and Roman.

But in light of recent revelations, even such a simple phrase made Logan’s heart simultaneously speed up and stop altogether. These cardiopulmonary abnormalities were highly irritating.

“I…” Logan’s mouth was dry. “Thank you, Virgil.”

Before Virgil could respond, he tapped the End Call button and tossed his phone on the desk, closing his eyes and rubbing his hand down his nose. That was a disastrous phone call if he’d ever participated in one.

At least he got a week to figure things out. Perhaps he could find a way to hide his feelings or better yet, get rid of them altogether. Perhaps he could land a job in Tokyo and move across the world and never have to face them again.

Perhaps he was being a tad dramatic.

A week without the others. This would be good for him, he told himself. He would enjoy it. It didn’t matter that he found himself dreading a week without Virgil’s dry sarcasm and tendency to sit everywhere except on chairs, Roman’s incessant singing of Disney songs and inability to remember history if it wasn’t events in Hamilton or Les Miserables, or Patton’s favorite cat hoodie and his weekly “experiment” meals where he added lots of cumin or onion to a dish and the others had to taste the aftermath. It didn’t matter that he would eat alone, do his homework alone, watch movies alone. That was exactly what he wanted.

Suddenly, the apartment felt very empty.

Logan turned off his lights, changed into his pajamas, and tucked himself into bed. It was a long time before he slept.

He did not spend a week alone.

He spent the first four days of the week alone, burying himself in his studies and rereading Murder on the Orient Express whenever he got too bored. Despite his promise to Virgil, he stayed up later and later and mostly ate energy bars, leftover ramen, and a few strawberries from a jumbo pack of strawberries Patton had bought. Virgil did not call or text him. Roman called him once, leaving a voicemail that said “Is the Mona Lisa only famous because it was stolen? Virgil and I disagree on the matter.” Logan did not call him back.

Patton kept texting him, however. Perhaps Virgil hadn’t explained that Logan wanted to be left alone, or perhaps Patton had simply disregarded the instructions entirely. Whatever the case, Patton continued to send him Patton Texts™ at random times. A Patton Text™ was a text sent with the express purpose of cheering someone up, usually consisting of a cute animal picture, a clean meme, a fun news story, a dad joke, or, occasionally, a dirty meme. Patton Texts™ didn’t require a response, a purpose, or any sort of context. They just existed. It was, Logan had to admit, rather sweet.

On the fourth day, Logan woke up to a photo of a kitten with its head stuck inside a box, a horrible pun (What do you call a country where everyone drives a pink automobile? A pink carnation!) and a reminder that he needed to ‘TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OR I WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT U.’ Throughout the day, Patton sent him several cute cat videos. Despite himself, Logan always paused and watched them.

One part of him whispered that Patton only watched cat videos when he was sad. Logan tried his best to ignore that part.

It was late that evening when he got a text. Assuming it was another Patton Text™, Logan paused the documentary he was watching and pulled out his phone. However, it wasn’t Patton. It was a direct text from Virgil.

Virgil Conroy: L call me

Logan frowned. Why was Virgil contacting him? He had promised to respect his wishes. He wouldn’t text him unless—

Unless something was seriously wrong.

Quickly dialing Virgil’s number, Logan sprung up from the couch and tugged on his shoes.

It took five rings for Virgil to respond. When Logan said “Hello?” he got no answer.

“Virgil?” Logan asked. Listening closely, he could hear Virgil’s breathing. It was far too fast and frantic. In the distance, there was a loud thud, then another. Virgil began to breathe even faster.

“Virgil, can I assume you are suffering from an anxiety attack?”

There was no response.

“Virgil.” Logan grabbed his keys and dashed out the door, practically flying down the steps. “Tap the phone once for no and twice for yes.”

A pause, then a hesitant tap. Then another.

“Okay.” Logan walked down the sidewalk, weaving around people and taking the crosswalks at a run. “Can you breathe for me? In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8?”

A shuddering, deep breath. Logan started counting, still going as fast as he could. He barely needed to focus on the route—he knew the way to Patton’s apartment as well as the way to his own.

“You’re doing so great,” Logan said, rounding a corner. “You’re doing wonderfully, Virgil. Can you tell me five things you can see?”

“Um—” Virgil’s voice was shaky. “Uh, floor. Bed. My…my Nightmare Before Christmas posters. Window. Door.”

“Good. Four things you can feel?”

“Hoodie.” Virgil swallowed. “Floor. H-hair. Um…tears?”

“Okay.” Logan watched the traffic lights and bolted for the other side as soon as the walk signal glowed white. “Three things you can hear.”

“Traffic outside. B-birds.” Virgil sniffed. “Roman throwing stuff in the bedroom.”

That wasn’t good. Logan kept his voice level. “Two things you can smell?”

“Popcorn and burnt cookies?”

“And one thing you can taste.”

Virgil sighed. “Popcorn.”

“Great.” Logan slowed down as a mass of people crowded past him. “How do you feel?”

“N-not great, L. Obviously.” Virgil chuckled. “Um. Sorry for texting you, it was on instinct, I know you didn’t want to be bothered—”

“It is no trouble,” Logan insisted. “Your wellbeing is extremely important to me and I am glad I could assist.”

“Huh.”

“Virgil?” Logan asked.

“Yeah?”

“You do not have to, but…could you tell me what happened?”

Logan heard Virgil shift. “Argument,” he finally said. “Bad one.”

“Oh.”

“Ro and Pat were yelling a lot. I think Pat started crying. He’s in the bathroom now, I wanted to help him but all the yelling set me off, and—”

“Take a deep breath,” Logan said. “You did everything you could. Taking care of yourself is important, and you were very brave in reaching out. I’m—I’m proud of you.”

A siren wailed next to Logan as he jogged down the sidewalk. He was only a minute from Virgil’s apartment now.

“What was that?” Virgil asked.

“Siren.”

“Wh—” Virgil paused. “L, where are you?”

“I—” Logan looked around. “Oak Street?”

“Why on earth are you—”

“Give me a second, all right?” Logan pulled the phone from his ear. “I’ll talk in a second.”

Then he ran, leaping over cracks in the sidewalk and hurtling past trees, ignoring the confused looks of bystanders. The streetlights flashed above him, the sidewalk sparkling in the neon glow. Cars raced past him, careening through the night, headlights illuminating the haze. The windows and doors of the city rowhomes blurred together.

Finally, Logan skidded to a stop and climbed up the stairs to a brownstone at the end of the road. Slipping his hand under the small dog statue, he grabbed the key and turned it in the lock. The hallway was empty as he crept past the downstairs apartments, taking the stairs two at a time.

Patton’s apartment was unlocked. Logan didn’t bother knocking. The living room was empty, the TV still playing a paused scene from Lilo & Stitch, an abandoned popcorn bowl and pile of blankets on the couch. The kitchen lights were on, a few cookies left on the stove. The bathroom and bedroom doors were closed. A loud thump came from the bedroom on the far side. It sounded like someone punching a pillow, and indeed, that was probably the cause.

Logan pulled out his phone again. Talking quietly so as not to disturb anyone, he asked Virgil, “You’re in the bedroom?”

“Yeah—”

Logan walked forward and knocked on the bedroom door.

There was shuffling behind it, Virgil muttered “Just a sec,” and the door was opened. Virgil stood there, hoodie half-fallen from his shoulders, eyes red and hair mussed. He looked Logan up and down, mouth falling open.

“Did you—run here?”

Logan shrugged. Now that he was standing still, he realized how out-of-breath he was. “Yes.”

“I…” Virgil stared at him. “Wow.”

“You…” Logan reached out. “May I touch you?”

“Yeah.”

Logan placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “How do you feel now?”

“Better.” Virgil fidgeted with the sleeve of his hoodie, but Logan noticed he leaned into the touch. “Definitely calmer. I—hearing your voice helped.”

“I’m glad I could assist.” Logan pressed a thumb gently into Virgil’s back. “Can I get you some tea? You can sit on the couch while I make it, maybe listen to some music?”

Virgil paused and nodded.

“Good.” Logan led Virgil to the couch and gave him a few of the blankets and pillows. Virgil rolled his eyes but dutifully cozied up in the corner. Logan spared a moment to appreciate the adorableness of Virgil curled up like a burrito, pulling on his headphones, before he was off to the kitchen and brewing some tea. Chamomile, he decided, would be just the thing. As the water boiled, he pulled out his phone again and texted Patton.

Lolo <3: Patton, could you come out of the bathroom? I am making Virgil some tea and I assume you could benefit from it as well.

After a minute, his phone vibrated with a response.

Patton O’Rourke: ur here????

Patton O’Rourke: I thought u were havin alone time

Lolo <3: Circumstances change. Please emerge whenever you are comfortable.

Logan returned to the tea, finding four mugs and setting them out. Behind him, he heard a door creak open. Without turning around, he said, “Hello, Patton.”

“H-hey, Lolo.” Patton shuffled forward. “I can help with the tea.”

“That is fine,” Logan said, shooting Patton a reassuring smile. “Thank you for the offer, but I would rather you just sit with Virgil. I’m sure he’d love the company.”

Patton looked apprehensively at Virgil, as if afraid he would deny it. Virgil gave Patton a small wave and scooted over on the couch. Patton delicately sat on the other end, clutching his hoodie.

Soon the teapot whistled and Logan poured the tea into the four mugs. Bringing three of them to the couch, he handed one to Virgil and one to Patton. The third he placed on the coffee table.

“Is that for you?” Patton asked.

“Roman.”

Virgil gave Logan a disbelieving look. “He’s been throwing shit around for the past half an hour. You’re not getting him out for tea, dude.”

“Not immediately, no.” Logan sat on the floor across from them. “Drink. It’ll help.”

Virgil sipped at his tea. Patton stared into the mug and didn’t move.

“Patton?” Logan reached forward and placed a hand on his leg. “Would you like to talk?”

“I—” Patton clenched his teeth. “No, I—I’m fine—”

“Patton.” Logan stood up again and sat next to Patton on the couch. “You just went through an upsetting situation and many harsh words may have been exchanged. It is perfectly reasonable—in fact, it is encouraged—to react and experience emotions about this event.”

Patton shivered. “I—”

“Would you like me to hug you?”

Patton paused and nodded.

Logan carefully placed an arm around Patton’s shoulders, taking the mug of chamomile tea from his hand. Virgil politely avoided staring as Patton fell into Logan’s side, burying his face in Logan’s shirt. His shoulders began to shake, and Logan heard him start to cry.

Tilting himself carefully, Logan pulled Patton into his lap and placed a hand behind his head. One traitorous part of himself noticed how close they were, but Logan successfully shunned it. Patton seemed very small in his arms.

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan murmured.

Patton hiccupped. “F-for what?”

“For crying. It sounds like you need this, and I’m proud of your ability to release your emotions.”

“Sure.” Patton laughed bitterly into Logan’s chest. “You’re proud of the fact I can cry. That says a lot about me, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but that is not necessarily a negative thing.” Logan reached over and began stroking Patton’s hair. “You have struggled with this in the past, and for you, this is an achievement. That doesn’t mean you’re lesser than anyone else. Your problems are your problems. Everyone has issues with some things.” Logan smiled. “Look at me, for instance.”

“If you—” Patton sniffled. “Talk bad…I will fight…”

“I know.” On instinct, Logan leaned forward and placed a kiss on Patton’s forehead. “Why don’t we leave that for later, okay? For now, do you think you could give Virgil a turn? Though I love cuddling with you, I need to check on Roman.”

Patton didn’t move. “Virgil…don’t wanna…wanna bother…”

“He’s right here, Patton.” Logan glanced at Virgil, who was still pointedly giving them space. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“He…” Patton hiccupped again. “Is he mad?”

“What?” Virgil gave up on pretending to ignore them. “Pat, no!”

“I know we…we were really loud…” Patton began to cry again. “And you got upset, and I couldn’t check on you…and I w-would understand if you h-hated me, we w-were s-stupid…I-I…”

Virgil looked shocked. “God, Pat, are you kidding? I couldn’t hate you!”

Patton simply cried louder.

“Can I…?” Virgil motioned to Patton, and Logan carefully uncurled Patton’s arms from his torso and shifted him down the couch to Virgil. Virgil reached out and Patton immediately collapsed into him, tucking his head into Virgil’s shoulder.

“Oh, Pat.” Virgil rubbed Patton’s back. “You made a mistake, but that’s okay. I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you, you’re the best fucking boyfriend ever. Don’t tell Roman.”

Patton looked up and gave a watery chuckle. “L-language, kiddo.”

“There he is. There’s my favorite Pat.” Virgil smiled softly and wiped a tear from Patton’s face. “I love you, okay?”

Patton smiled back and snuggled into Virgil’s hoodie. “Love you too.”

Logan quickly looked away, ignoring the rush of emotions in his stomach. Getting to his feet, he took the final mug from the coffee table and headed to the bedroom. The door was locked and he could hear nothing behind it.

Logan knocked on the door. “Roman?”

No response.

“Roman, could you please open the door?”

After a pause, someone mumbled “Go ‘way, Virgil.”

“This is not Virgil,” Logan said. “This is Logan.”

He jumped out of the way as the door flew open. Roman stood there, pajamas rumpled and eyes red, looking at Logan like he was the reincarnation of Nikola Tesla.

“Where—” Roman closed his eyes and opened them again. “When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago. Virgil texted me.” Logan held out the mug. “Would you like some tea?”

Roman squinted suspiciously at the tea. “What kind?”

“Chamomile. I thought it would help calm everyone down.”

“Oh, that’s my favorite—” Abruptly, Roman shook his head. “No! I’m mad at you!”

“You are?” Logan kept his voice level.

“Yeah!”

“I was unaware.” Logan glanced towards Patton and Virgil, but they didn’t seem disturbed by the yelling. Virgil had slipped his headphones over Patton’s ears and was watching him fondly. “Why are you angry with me?”

Roman folded his arms and his face flushed. “’Cause you’re a fucking asshole!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Why do you think of me this way?”

“Don’t give me that sarcastic shit.”

“I was not intending to be sarcastic.” Logan waved a hand at himself. “You know I am not the best with sarcasm.”

“Shut up!”

Logan mimed zipping his lips and tossing the figurative key.

Roman rubbed his eyes. “You just waltz in here after like eternity days and knock on my door like ‘Hey what’s up remember me I exist.’ Like, what the fuck, Specs?”

“Unless I was mistaken, you agreed to the temporary separation,” Logan said. “Could you explain why it upset you?”

“I’m not upset!” Roman snapped. “I’m pissed! Can’t you tell?”

Logan looked at the tear tracks running down Roman’s face and his angry red snarl. “The two things are not mutually exclusive.”

“Get out of here with your science talk!” Roman growled. “Actually, hey, good idea! Get the fuck out in general. Leave.”

“Patton and Virgil wish me to be here,” Logan said, taking a deep breath and retaining his calm tone. Getting exercised would do no one any good. “Unless you have a solid reason for my departure, I shall remain.”

Roman frowned and violently scrubbed at his eyes. “I don’t want you here.”

“I’ve gathered.” Logan clasped the mug of tea in both hands, steam warming his fingers. “I understand your feelings about the situation. But I would like to understand the cause better. Why did my abstaining from social contact upset you?”

“’Cause you can’t just do that!” Roman burst out. “You can’t just up and walk out of the friend group! It’s not a normal thing to do!”

“Were you worried about me?” Logan asked. “Were you worried about my emotional or physical wellbeing? You should know that if something was seriously wrong, I would always tell you and the others.”

“I know, I—” Roman sighed. “I just—it came out of nowhere.” His voice tightened. “And what am I supposed to think? That you suddenly decided you wanted to be a hermit?” Roman’s hands balled into a fist. “I just don’t get it! If I did something wrong, have the fucking decency to admit it to my face!”

The last sentence was almost a shout. Virgil looked over at Logan, concern in his eyes. Logan gave him a reassuring nod before turning back to Roman, who looked about to throw something.

“Is that the problem?” Logan asked. “Do you think it was your actions that led to the situation?”

Roman glared at him.

“It wasn’t your fault, Roman.” Logan took a step forward, and Roman’s hands dug into the doorframe. “It was a personal issue of mine and I should have conveyed that better.”

Roman’s glare deepened.

“Is that what led to the argument?” Logan murmured. “Because you don’t need to stake your personal worth on my actions. I currently, and have always, considered you an amiable companion and a wonderful friend.”

Something in Roman’s expression broke.

Logan carefully set the mug down on the carpet. “Roman, would you like a hug?”

Roman eyed him warily. Logan opened his arms.

Roman rocketed into his grasp, grabbing at his shirt and burying his face in Logan’s shoulder.

“Alright. Alright.” Taking a page out of Virgil’s book, Logan rubbed circles on Roman’s back. “I have you, okay? I’ve got you.”

“I—” Roman’s voice choked up, and now he was crying. He cried differently than Patton, loudly and almost dramatically. “I—I th-thought you decided you d-didn’t like us anymore—I thought I—d-did something—you f-finally got t-tired of me—”

“I could never get tired of you,” Logan said. “Who else can debate about iambic pentameter with me? Patton still thinks it’s a weird flavor of ice cream.”

Roman gave a choked laugh that soon dissolved into more sobs.

“I love you,” Logan said, ignoring the flip in his stomach. “I love you, Roman. I love all of you.” His heart ached to leave it there, but his traitorous mouth added “You are my best friends.”

Roman’s hands squeezed tighter around Logan’s waist. Logan slipped one of his hands under Roman’s and grasped it lightly.

“Do you want to go to the couch now?” Logan asked. “You are rather heavy and I feel we could best continue this hug sitting down and perhaps with your boyfriends.”

Roman froze. “I don’t wanna.”

“Are you worried they’ll be mad at you?”

The way Roman pressed his face into Logan’s shoulder was answer enough.

“Virgil! Patton!” Logan called. Virgil looked over and Patton took off his headphones. “Roman has something he would like to say to you.”

“I d-do?”

“Yes.” Logan pulled his chin up. “You will apologize, and they will forgive you. Then you can cuddle together.”

“I—” Roman glanced at the others. “I—Pat? Virge?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“I—” His face crumpled. “I’m so sorry, I—I got insecure and I was mean to you and I love you, I love you so much, I’m so sorry—”

Patton smiled. “I love you too, Ro. I forgive you—if you’ll forgive me?”

Roman wiped his eyes. “Of course.”

Virgil gave him a half smile. “It’s alright, Princey. I’m an idiot sometimes too.”

“C’mon over!” Patton added. “There’s more than enough room.”

Logan nodded, picking the mug back up and placing it in Roman’s hand. “Go ahead.”

With a grateful glance, Roman shuffled over to the couch. Patton held out an arm and Roman fell next to him, cuddling into his side. Virgil smiled and took Roman’s hand.

Logan spared a moment to watch them curl closer—they were so sweet—then walked over to the TV.

“You’ll probably be tired,” he said, grabbing the remote and closing Lilo & Stitch. “So we should put on something relaxing so you can fall asleep. Do you want to try a nature documentary? I find them quite calming in times of distress, as long as we choose to avoid the parts about global warming. Here’s an episode about lemurs. Would you like to watch that?”

Patton nodded, already dozing off in Virgil’s arms. Roman gave Logan a thumbs up.

Logan started the player. “Okay. Since you’ll be falling asleep here, we should minimize the uncomfortable nature of the couch.” He walked down the hallway and opened the linen closet, bringing back some extra blankets, comforters, and pillows. “Feel free to use these. If Virgil wishes, I can bring him anything he needs from our apartment. I’m aware you already have your headphones, but do you want your weighted blanket?”

Virgil paused and shook his head.

“Alright, thank you for clarifying.” Logan turned down the brightness of the TV. “That won’t hurt your eyes as much—Patton, take off your glasses, there you go—and I can turn off the lights throughout the apartment and lock the door on the way out. Is there anything else you need?”

Roman took a sip of tea, pulling a blanket over his legs. “Um, I think we’re good, Specs.”

“Lolo?” Patton shifted, hair covering his face. “Can I—um, I’d like—”

Logan smiled. “Let me guess. Your panda pillow?”

Patton smiled back.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Logan walked into Patton’s bedroom and took the soft panda pillow from the bed. Patton immediately brightened when he saw it and tucked it under his head, nestling into place with a soft sigh. The three of them were entangled now, legs intertwined. Patton rested on Virgil’s shoulder, Roman curled into Patton’s side, and Virgil’s arm stretched across the back of the sofa so he could hold hands with Roman.

“Is everyone all set to go?”

Roman sleepily nodded. The TV showed lemurs hopping back and forth. Virgil’s headphones were on again, his eyes trained on the screen.

“Good.” Logan turned off the kitchen lights and closed the open doors. “Then I will be going. I hope you have a pleasant rest and you can call me if you need me.”

Patton shifted, frowning. “You’re…leaving?”

“Well, yes.” Logan pressed his lips together. “The problem is concluded to the best of my ability, so I assumed I would take my leave.”

Virgil met his eyes. “Stay? Please?”

Heat seared across Logan’s face as Patton reached out and made little grabby hands.

Sighing—he couldn’t tell them no, he knew that, it was a physically impossible concept when they were so sleepy and soft and adorable and Newton was he hopeless—Logan moved back over and carefully placed his glasses on the coffee table. Patton tugged him into the pile of blankets, and after a few moments of maneuvering, Logan was secured firmly in the middle of the couch. On his left, Patton cuddled up to him, pressing into his shoulder and humming with contentment. Roman wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Virgil gave Logan’s hair a ruffle. On the screen, the narrator talked about the eating habits of lemurs. Everything was a blur without his glasses. The blankets and pillows were soft and warm and heavy. Patton was breathing slowly, his hair rustling with each exhale. Roman was watching the lemurs, a small smile on his face. Virgil closed his eyes and bobbed his head to his music.

Logan hadn’t realized how tired he was. It was probably the lack of sleep and his ruined circadian rhythms. Definitely not the comforting weight of others near him, reminding him that he was safe, not alone, loved.

Closing his eyes, Logan succumbed to sleep.

                                                                                                                               Logan wasn’t really awake.

He wasn’t asleep either, because he could hear Virgil shift and the strains of the credit sequence for the TV show—it wasn’t the same show he’d left on, he noticed, so time must have passed. But he was tired, and warm, and happy, and he didn’t want to open his eyes. He just wanted to sink back into sleep. The blankets were heavy around him, something soft was under his head, a comforting weight in his hair and oh, it was moving, someone was scratching his head, why hadn’t he tried this before it felt absolutely heavenly—

The fingers pressed into his scalp and Logan whined, leaning into the touch. When was the last time he let someone near him? He’d started refusing hugs a while ago after the three of them started dating. He didn’t realize he missed it so much.

Someone chuckled above him. “You’re so adorable when you’re sleeping.”

“Who’s adorable?” said another sleepy voice.

“Look at Logan.”

A muffled squeal came from his left. “Aww, he’s all curled up!”

“Watch this,” Roman said—that was Roman, right? Oh no, was he cuddling with Roman? He needed to wake up, he needed to stop being in this compromising position—

Roman was scratching his head again, and all coherent and rational thought flew out the figurative window.

Logan whined again. He couldn’t help himself. Patton squealed even louder. “He’s so adorable!”

“I know, right?” Roman’s voice was softer than Logan had ever heard, except maybe when addressing Virgil or Patton. “He’s the cutest.”

“And so helpful,” Patton added. “We need to thank him later, guys. Like, serious surprise party thank-you cookies and fun-times thank you.”

“He fixed everything, didn’t he? He knew exactly how to help.” Roman shifted, and before Logan knew it, he’d gotten a small kiss on the bridge of his nose. “Thanks for everything, you amazing little nerd.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. Right—Virgil. Virgil was there. His voice was hoarse with sleep. “I don’t know what we’d do without him—”

Virgil paused.

“Kiddo?” Patton asked. “You alright?”

“Shit.”

“What?” Roman asked, jostling Logan. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” Virgil hesitated. “I think I figured something out.”

“What is it?” Patton asked.

And Logan tried to prick his ears for the answer, but sleep overcame him again, and he fell into darkness with Roman holding him upright.

                                                                                                                               Logan needed coffee.

Extricating himself from the blankets, he saw that Virgil, Patton, and Roman had already left the couch and were discussing something in one corner of the kitchen. Blearily, he wiped his eyes and placed his glasses on his face. The sharper focus revealed a pensive look on Virgil’s face, an excited look on Patton’s, and a nervous look on Roman’s.

Logan stumbled to his feet and headed for the coffee maker. Their conversation was none of his business. He also had a vague memory of cuddling up to Roman, which made his face flush every time he recalled it, so he would rather avoid talking to them until the embarrassment wore off.

The conversation abruptly stopped when Logan approached. That was odd, but Logan was too sleepy to remark on it. Wow, was it nine o’clock already? Good thing he had no classes until three.

Filling a mug with coffee, he downed a few mouthfuls and felt the caffeine buzz through him. Feeling more awake, he turned to the others, only to find they were staring at him.

“What?” he asked self-consciously. He touched his hair to see if it was mussed. It was. He combed it roughly with his fingers, but a few locks still stuck up in the air.

“Um—” Roman squeaked. “Nothing!”

“Do I have something on my face?” Logan looked between Patton, who had a sheepish grin, Roman, who was blushing furiously, and Virgil, who stared at the ground. “What is happening?”

“Just tell him how you feel,” Virgil muttered to himself, clenching his fists. “There’s no good reason not to.”

“What?” Logan placed his coffee on the counter. “Is everything alright? Is there a problem?”

“L?” Virgil glanced at the others, who gave him encouraging glances. “I—we. We need to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“Well.” Virgil fiddled with his jacket. “I guess I’ll just spit it out then? I…we…why did you make me do this, guys? I’m terrible at it!”

Roman snorted. “Well, I’m certainly not doing it!”

“You can do this, kiddo.” Patton smiled at Virgil. “We’ve got your back.”

“Take your time, Virgil.” Logan looked at him with concern. “There’s no pressure.”

“I just—” Virgil screwed his eyes shut. “I don’t want this to ruin anything.”

“I doubt it would ruin anything,” Logan said. “Unless you’ve committed a serious felony or have secretly been a flat-earther this entire time, I think our relationship will survive.”

Roman snickered.

“Right. Okay.” Virgil bit his lip. “Well. On the subject of—relationships…”

Logan nodded and ignored the jolt that passed through his subjects.

“It’s like a Band-Aid, you’ve just got to rip it off.” Virgil clenched his fists. “Weallfiguredoutwekindasortalikeyoumorethanafriend!”

Logan blinked. “What?”

“We like you,” Patton clarified. “Romantically.”

“Oh, there you are,” Virgil mumbled, eyes still closed. “You couldn’t have stepped in earlier?”

Logan’s brain seemed to have short-circuited. Logan.exe had crashed. “What?”

“I don’t know how we could make it clearer, Specs.” Roman was smiling, but his tone betrayed a hint of nervousness. “You’re cute and we wanna date you.”

“Only if you want to!” Patton added hastily. “We don’t want to pressure you into anything and I know you probably don’t think of us that way, or at least not all of us, but we thought we should clear the air and admit it.”

Logan opened his mouth and closed it.

“So…” Virgil shifted. “Yeah, L. What they said.”

Finally, Logan found his voice. “How long?”

“What?” Patton asked.

“How long have you…felt this way?”

Roman laughed. “About two years? I fell for you when I fell for the others. It was all three of you at once—a triple-whammy crush cavalcade, if you will. It was a nightmare.”

“Two years?” Logan repeated. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I felt awkward about it.” Roman shrugged, looking away. “And you made it very clear you didn’t like me back.”

Hell no. I would never want to date you. You’re just not my type.

Shit.

“I started more recently, I think?” Patton tapped his chin. “Soon after Roman and Virgil and I started dating. It was lovely, but I always felt like something—someone—was missing.” He shot Logan a soft smile. “Turns out it was you, Lolo.”

“I…er, I only figured it out last night.” Virgil shrugged sheepishly. “But yeah. For a while, probably. Maybe even before Roman. You’ve just—you’ve always been there, constant, and…I guess I never knew how much I relied on that. I—yeah. You’re—yeah.” He rubbed his blushing face. “Sorry, I’m—I’m bad with words.”

Logan tried to wrangle his thoughts into a coherent sentence, but his cheeks were burning, his chest was flaming, and his eyes were stinging.

“So that’s that, I guess?” Roman rubbed at his arm. “You don’t—you don’t have to like us back, dude. We just wanted to get that out in the open. Like you advised, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Patton agreed with a smile. “Can you imagine if we just bottled up our feelings and avoided the situation altogether? You’d be very disappointed in us, Lolo.”

Logan stared at him. Laughter bubbled up in his throat, and before he could stop himself, he began to chuckle.

“What is it?” Roman asked.

Logan shook his head, laughing harder. He grabbed onto the counter for support as he cracked up. His eyes were leaking fluid now as he doubled over.

“What happened?” Virgil asked. “L, you good?”

“I—give me a sec—” Logan tried to pull himself together, but soon he lost it again. “I—the irony, I can’t believe this—”

“Um…” Roman frowned. “Much as I hate to interrupt a laugh session, especially because this is undeniably endearing, could you enlighten us on the cause of this ruckus? Or have you just gone full Joker?”

“I-I’m fine—” Logan kept laughing, rubbing at his eyes.

“Uh, you sure, kiddo?” Patton said, his voice far too concerned for the situation. “’Cause, um, you’re—"

A tear slipped down his face, and oh. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He was crying.

“L?” Virgil asked.

Logan was crying openly now. He covered his face with his sleeve and tried to wipe away the tears, but whenever one dried, another fell. His face felt hot and sick and disgusting. He wanted to stop crying, to stop looking so foolish in front of them, but his breath refused to be caught and his crying refused to cease.

He didn’t even know why he was crying. This was good news! There was nothing to be sad about!

“Lo?” Patton stepped forward, arms open. “Do you need a hug? It looks like you need a hug.”

Logan couldn’t speak, but he managed a nod.

And Patton was hugging him, cradling him against his chest and the contact just made Logan cry harder because this is what he could have had, this is what he was missing—

“I’m an idiot,” Logan choked out. “I am a complete, foolish idiot.”

“What?” Roman asked. “How dare you slander yourself like this! I don’t quite know why you’re saying that, or why you started crying, but I can assure you that you are a very smart human!”

“You don’t get it.” Logan wiped his eyes. For some reason, he was still smiling. Was he happy? Were these happy tears? He felt terrible, but there was a glow in his chest and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“What don’t we get?” Patton asked, squeezing his shoulders.

“I—” Logan looked around at them all, concerned and compassionate and beautiful. “I’ve been in love with the three of you for more than a year.”

Roman made a noise like a squeaky toy being stepped on.

“What?” Virgil stared him down. “You’re kidding.”

Weakly, Logan shook his head.

“But…” Patton frowned. “Lolo, you got us all together!”

“Y-yes.” Logan scrubbed his face. “You seemed happy with each other, I was glad to play the figurative matchmaker if it was what you wanted.”

Patton pressed a hand to his mouth, eyes wide.

“Shit, L.” Virgil shook his head. “Shit.”

“What did we do to deserve you?” Roman mumbled.

“In fairness,” Logan said, “I only figured it out last week.”

“A-at Roman’s evening?” Patton looked about to cry as well. “I—I thought you were acting off, I didn’t realize—”

“That’s why you avoided us, wasn’t it?” Roman seemed to search Logan’s face for denial. When he found none, his face crumpled. “You avoided us because you liked us?”

“I—I did not want things to become awkward between us. I wanted time to sort things out and see if those feelings would—” Logan waved a hand. “Dissipate of their own accord. But I was too far gone, and I—then you called me, and I couldn’t leave you alone, I couldn’t—”

“Shit,” Virgil said again.

“You know,” Patton said with a soft smile, “if you’d have just taken your own smart advice, we could have started dating weeks ago. Maybe even months.”

“Doubtful,” Logan admitted. “Feelings are not my strong suit. I would not have figured it out any earlier than I did.”

“And that’s okay.” Virgil reached forward and took Logan’s hand. “You’re doing alright, L. Better than alright.”

“You got us together, after all!” Roman agreed. “Even if that was unnecessarily self-sacrificing on your part. And you helped us last night, too. I suppose only one question remains…”

“Will you,” Patton finished, “consider being our boyfriend?”

“You don’t have to,” Virgil immediately added. “If you don’t feel ready, or you want to try dating one of us at a time, that’s completely fine—”

Logan began to smile. “I—I think I can give it a shot. All of you. I want to engage in romantic relations with you. If—if that’s alright.”

Patton squealed, and Roman’s smile was wider than Logan had ever seen it. Virgil just squeezed Logan’s hand, and Logan squeezed back.

“Group hug time!” Patton proclaimed.

“Don’t we have to eat breakfast?” Logan asked.

“Oh!” Patton giggled. “Right! I’ll make us some pancakes. Then we can have some cuddles!”

“Perfect!” Roman proclaimed. “Maybe watch a Disney movie? We’ve got a lot of missed movie-nights to make up for!”

Virgil smiled slightly. “Only if we can watch The Nightmare Before Christmas. And only if Pat lets me supervise the pancakes.”

Patton frowned. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you,” Virgil said, “but Princey here would totally add like five containers of sugar or set the entire thing on fire when your back is turned.”

Roman gasped. “Rude! I’ll have you know that was one time, and the firefighters were very nice about it!”

“We can all help with the pancakes,” Patton compromised. “Lolo can read the instructions, ‘cause he’s good with books and Virge can help me mix ingredients.”

“What about me?” Roman asked.

Virgil smirked. “You can play your Disney songs and sneak bits of batter while pretending you’re helping.”

Roman opened his mouth, shrugged, and smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

“Great!” Patton grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him over to the kitchen. “Let’s go!”

And Logan spent half the morning making pancakes, getting flour in his hair, Roman placing batter on his nose so Patton would kiss it off, Virgil sitting on the counter and refusing to get off. The pancakes turned out delicious, and after eating a very late breakfast—it’s brunch, Specs, how do you fail so hard at being gay—they curled up on the couch once more and started on their Disney marathons. It turned out that Roman and Virgil shared Logan’s proclivity for discussing the movie while watching it, but Roman geared more towards insults and Virgil just threw popcorn at all the sappy scenes. Patton remained quiet, toying with Logan’s hair and snuggled into Roman’s side, smiling at them like they were his favorite things in the world.

Logan Mackenzie didn’t understand his feelings, not completely. But he did know that he loved them. He knew that they loved him back. He knew that he had never felt happier than now, sitting on the couch with his boyfriends—boyfriends! They were his boyfriends! The novelty still hadn’t worn off.

He loved them, and he could figure the rest out another day, with a little help.

Logan loved them. For now, and forever, that was enough.

#averywrites #writing #fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logan sanders #roman sanders #LAMP #virgil sanders #patton sanders #moxiety #logince #logicality #prinxiety #royality #analogical #romance #love #logan sanders cannot feelings #pining #mutual pining #angst #fluff #humor #angst with a happy ending #polyamory