#but like I’m not like a HUGE patton fan and yet today my heart is filled with love

[serpentinesomebody]

no matter how I feel about a side my love for them will always increase by at least ten sizes when it’s their birthday

#like I don’t dislike any of them they’re all pretty cool #but like I’m not like a HUGE patton fan and yet today my heart is filled with love #sanders sides #sanders sides birthday #ts patton

[maybedefinitely404]

Forgotten

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Logicality, familial DRLAMP

World: canon

Content: some strong language, forgotten birthday, food mentions/eating/appetite loss, overworking mention, sympathetic dark sides, self deprecation, lying, crying, fluffy sweetness, first kiss. 

Word Count: 4.7k

Comments: In my head, I pictured this as a 1k oneshot kinda deal. And then this happened. It’s still a oneshot, but like?? A big one?? Is there a size limit to a oneshot??

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have expected much. After all, he was always the one to remind everyone of their fellow side’s birthdays. He was the dad, the heart, and he loved the others with everything that he was, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that he was the one to wake up before the sun had even properly risen to set up the whole downstairs. In past years, it had been Logan who had taken charge of Patton’s birthday; it was clear by their traditional birthday banner hung in a perfectly straight line, the streamers exactly one foot apart with no wiggle room, and the balloons all blown up to the exact same size. The cake in the evening was meticulously decorated with some printed picture of the baby animal Patton was obsessed with at the time and light blue frosting flowers on the side, and whatever activity Logan had planned in The Imagination (with Roman’s help, of course) always went off flawlessly. And I mean, what could you expect? Logan always had things planned weeks in advance, the multiple calendars above his bed and desk made sure of it. 

But knowing that Logan was always in charge of Patton’s birthdays and the fact that Thomas had a huge video deadline just around the corner still didn’t properly connect in his mind as he almost sprinted down the stairs, still in his pajamas. He screeched to a halt on the last step, his giddiness fading to sad confusion at the complete lack of… well, anything. Virgil was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, ignoring Roman who was dramatically reenacting his latest adventure. They both turned as he entered, giving a two finger salute and a loud “good morning” respectively. 

“Slept in much, pops? I was worried you weren’t going to make breakfast, and I am starving!” 

“You’re always starving, Princey.”

“Well, duh, have you seen the adventures I go on? Wait, were you not even paying attention?!” The two continued to bicker as Patton mutely walked into the kitchen, ignoring the way his heart felt like it had sunk to his stomach. Of course, of course, they wouldn’t have remembered. Virgil with his constant barrage of anxious, worst-case-scenario thoughts and Roman, head filled to overflowing with creative ideas.

Patton threw together some pancakes, almost in shock. The smell must have attracted Janus, because he trotted downstairs, tongue flicking out between his teeth unwillingly. 

“It smells awful. Pancakes?” 

“Mmhm,” the hum came out a bit more strangled than he would have liked, but no one seemed to notice, “I made extra. Dig in.”

They did just that, and Patton nibbled at his slowly, watching their faces. Was this just a ploy? Surely, they hadn’t forgotten. Birthdays were always the same tradition every time, maybe they just wanted to switch it up a bit? Lure him into a false sense of sadness, and then when he came back downstairs, the whole party would be set up? That had to be it. Surely. So he should probably leave them to it, right? Didn’t want to make their plan too difficult!

He quickly excused himself to go upstairs, suddenly alive with excitement again. His usually quick routine took him double as long as he kept reminding himself to slow down, give them time to set it up! It wouldn’t be much fun if he walked in half way through. He couldn’t help smiling to himself in his reflection, toothpaste covering his lips. It was gonna be a good day.

But when he came back downstairs, now fully dressed, he was surprised to see the state of the room hadn’t changed. Well, except for the fact that Janus was now standing next to the coffee table, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I think it’s ridiculous that even though poor Thomas got barely four hours of sleep, you’re still pushing him to finish this video today.”

“For the love of- we’ve been over this. He’s already past schedule, and he promised that it would be out this week! Do you want to be the reason that he disappoints over three million people? Do you really, Jan?”

“He will be able to work on it better if he at least takes a nap! The quality of his work is diminishing, and I’m quite sure his fans would rather see an amazing video two days late than whatever he’s making now, on time!”

“We have a schedule! Thomas can take a break when it’s done, and won’t it be more rewarding then?”

“He at least needs a nap!”

The two sides stopped their argument, breathing heavily as Patton took a ginger step down. “So what’s going on, guys?”

“Janus is insisting Thomas completely ignore his posting schedule!”

“Virgil isn’t letting Thomas rest, and god knows he needs it!”

“Okay, you know what?”

“What?!”

“I’m going out there, and I’m convincing Thomas to take a nap!”

“Not without me, you’re not!”

They both sunk out quickly, leaving Roman and Patton standing alone in the living room. Okay, so no surprise party after a let down. But… that’s okay, right? It’s not like he should have expected it. It’s wrong to expect something so big and then be upset when it doesn’t happen. And poor Logan, exhausted, having to keep Thomas going since he refused to rest. How dare Patton put himself first? That was wrong.

Maybe he could still have some quality time with Roman, at least.

“Hey kiddo, do you want to watch a movie with me? Your choice!”

“I would, but… shit, what time is it?” Patton checked his phone, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“Language. And just before eleven, why?”

“I need to go to the Imagination, I’m almost late!”

The moral side couldn’t help the jolt of excitement that flowed through him at the words. “Oh really? Why?” Maybe they had planned something!

“Now that Remus and I are… getting along,” he made a disgusted face, “Or trying to, at least, we figured we should try to have an adventure again. Like old times, you know?”

“Yeah…” Patton forced a smile on his face, pushing down the disappointment, “That’s great for you guys! Proud of you, ki-”

“No time, Pat! He’s probably already waiting, and I don’t want to know what he’ll do if I’m late!”

And he sunk out. 

Patton stood in the silence, his breathing seeming almost deafening in the empty room. He let the smile drop from his face but kept the rest of his bad feelings down, reprimanding himself for letting his own desire to be appreciated coming before the other’s happiness. They probably wouldn’t have wanted to be bogged down by some birthday celebrations. Helping Thomas and bonding with your brother were more important, right?

“Right,” he murmured to himself, sitting himself into the corner of the couch. It felt so big, so bare without anyone sitting with him, and he curled his legs into his torso to take up as little space as possible. Pulling the blanket down from over the top and wrapping it tightly around his shoulders, he flipped on the TV and put on the first show that was displayed, not even bothering to read the title. 

If he pulled the blanket around him tightly enough and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it was someone’s arms. 

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

When Thomas was tired, it reflected on all the sides. And he must have been exhausted, because the next thing Patton knew, he was waking up. The blanket was still wrapped around him and the TV was still playing the same show as before, yet the light had begun to fade outside the window. Had he really just slept through his entire birthday? Not that it mattered anyways, it’s not like anyone had any plans.

Stop that. He reprimanded, slowly standing up and stretching his aching back. And no more falling asleep on the couch. 

He hummed quietly to himself as he got a glass of water, downing the whole thing before refilling it. What was it about naps that always made you so thirsty when you woke up? In response, his stomach growled loudly, making Patton chuckle. Guess I should eat, too.

A look in the fridge revealed no leftovers from the week, and he really wasn’t in the mood to cook right now. His eyes settled on the Crofters jar, front and center on the top shelf, and he took it without thinking twice. His tune took on a more lighthearted melody as he waited for the toaster to pop, fiddling with a butter knife. 

He kept hoping, and hoping, and hoping, that Virgil would pop into the living room with Janus in tow, or the twins would start yelling upstairs to symbolize their return. Just for someone to remember him, to just give him a hug, shoot him a smile that wasn’t in exchange for pancakes. No, he reminded himself. They’re having a good day. Let them be. You don’t matter. 

He sat down at the table with his toast, glancing at the five empty seats around him. Even though he knew they had better things to do, and it was useless to dream, he couldn’t help but imagine all of them gathered together. The twins would fight and Janus would hit his head against the table and Logan would roll his eyes and Virgil would sulk in fake annoyance even while their pinkies were intertwined under the tablecloth. Remus would throw cake at Roman who would probably draw his sword in retaliation, Janus would yell at them to chill out, and Logan would excuse himself. They’d hear him scream in the distance before coming back, unruffled as always, and rejoin them at his usual seat. It would be chaotic and painful and long and exhausting but it would be his family. They’d all be together and it… it would be good. For once, they’d all be together.

Not like now, with everyone off doing their own things, and Patton staring numbly at his now cold toast, legs swinging slightly under his chair. With the jam covered knife, he poked the plate, drawing circles and stars around the perimeter. He wasn’t really hungry anymore. 

“Breakfast food for dinner? And stealing my Crofters? This is highly unusual, Patton.” Patton jumped, dropping the knife on the table with a loud clang. Logan continued, unaffected by the noise, “However, I suppose it can be excused today, what with it being your birthday.”

Patton froze, slowly turning to meet Logan’s stoic expression with a look of pure shock. “You… you remembered?”

“Of course. You always remember our birthdays, somehow, even without a calendar or any marker to indicate the day. I am able to leave that to you, and all we have to do is remember yours. It is actually quite a load off of my shoul-” He was cut off by a pair of arms wrapping firmly around his middle as Patton flung himself off the chair. He burrowed his nose into Logan’s shoulder, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” into the material. Hands slowly found their way around his shoulders, settling on the grey cardigan hesitantly.  

“Well,” Logan began, and Patton pulled away from him, a small smile etched into his face, “I apologize for not being available to partake in the festivities I’m sure the others planned. As you know, Thomas needed my assistance in researching and experimenting with a new editing technique. But now that is done with, so I’m free to join you.”

Patton tilted his head. “Join me?”

“Yes, for your oddly timed meal. Unless you don’t want me to, of course! I’d understand if you-” 

“No, Logan,” He said quietly, reaching down to take the other’s hand, “Please. I’d love if you joined me.”

Patton grinned at the way Logan’s cheeks flushed lightly, barely hesitating before replying with a choked out, “Wonderful.” They sat, and Patton gladly gave Logan one of his slices, his appetite hardly returned. 

“So,” Logan said around a mouthful of toast, “How was the party?”

“Oh! Uhm…” Should he tell the truth? Telling Logan that the others hadn’t planned anything, that they hadn’t even remembered… what would that do besides making Logan feel bad for not being there? But lying was… well, he could sort of understand where Janus was coming from now. “It was great!”

“What did you all do?”

“We… uhm… well, they set up the banner and everything, and it was super cool! And, uh, Roman made breakfast, so we ate that, and then… we went into the Imagination?” He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question. 

“Where is everyone now? I would think now would be the ideal time to eat dinner and cake.”

“They… Virgil and Janus knew they were going to be after Thomas for a while, and Roman and Remus… something went wrong in the Imagination that they had to… had to fix. So we did a birthday lunch instead.” It wasn’t a total lie, right? 

“Something wrong with the imagination? Are they alright?”

“YUP!” Patton yelped all too quickly, “Yup, they’re all good! They just had to… ya know. Ya know how they are!”

“I…” Logan narrowed his eyes a bit, giving Patton a look that told him he wasn’t fooling anyone. Whether Logan understood what his frantic bumbling was trying to cover or not, he didn’t show. “Alright. And did you open presents already? I was hoping to give you mine at the same time.”

Patton couldn’t help the butterflies that exploded in his stomach, almost making him feel sick from pure elation. “You got me a present?”

“Yes, isn’t that customary for one’s birthday?” The slight twinkle in his eye made Patton smile. He fumbled around in his pocket, pulling out a thin box wrapped in blue wrapping paper that just fit in the palm of his hand. “I’m not sure if you’ll like it-”

He cut himself off, letting Patton take the small box in almost a state of wonder. The wrapping paper was quickly thrown to the side and he pulled off the lid, letting out a small gasp involuntarily. Logan explained quickly.

“I saw a similar product online, and I tried to copy it to the best of my ability. Unfortunately my conjuring skills are not as precise as Roman’s, so it is not as detailed as the ones I attempted to imitate. But…” He took Patton’s phone from where it had been sitting on the table and turned on the flashlight, lifting the necklace from the box to shine the light through the transparent center, “I kept trying and trying, until I got this part exactly right, even if the exterior is flawed,” The necklace worked like a projector, and it took Patton a second to realize that the dots now showing on the opposite wall were stars. “It’s as accurate to the night sky as I could make it. And right there,” he gestured vaguely with his chin to a section in the middle, where a clump of stars stood brighter than the rest, “Is the Hercules constellation.”

“Logan… I…” Patton couldn’t help the tears that filled his eyes as he looked between Logan and the stars on the wall. The logical side saw the tears and immediately tensed up, placing the necklace and phone back down.

“I apologize, did I do something wrong? I can-”

“No,” He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands, laughing slightly, “No, it’s amazing. Thank you, Logan. Really.”

Patton picked up the necklace almost reverently. Logan was right, the outside was messy. The circle outline was wonky and crooked, and he couldn’t tell if the little scratches around the rim were intentional (numbers, maybe?) or accidental. But to him, it was perfect. 

“Could you put it on me?” He held it out to the man in front of him, letting the pendant dangle between his fingers. And goodness, seeing Logan give a flustered nod and take the necklace with shaking fingers was an image he never wanted out of his mind. 

Patton turned around in his chair, tilting his head down as Logan stood up behind him. The moment seemed to last forever and ended all too quickly; the ghost of Logan’s fingers against his neck that sent a shiver down his spine, the cool pendant against his collarbone, the way the taller man rested his hand on Patton’s shoulder blade when it was securely fastened. Patton swore to himself never to tell Logan about the hundreds of times he’d put on his own necklaces before. 

He took his phone, the flashlight still on, and shone it through the necklace, admiring the night sky before him.

“What did you say the constellation was, Lo?”

Logan cleared his throat roughly, now standing beside him, the very tips of his ears on fire. “Hercules.”

Patton giggled lightly. “Why that one?” 

For a moment, the other man was completely silent, and Patton feared he’d said something wrong. He looked up at Lo only to find him staring back with intensity that could challenge Remus. The taller man let out a heavy sigh before resting on the back of Patton’s chair, moving his attention to the projection. He could either say something meaningful or make eye contact; both was too much. 

“Patton, I know the way you think about yourself. That you’re not worth caring for, or that everyone around you is more important, and I know you figuratively beat yourself up when you need to put yourself first. And I’m not good with emotions, I’m frankly quite terrible with them, and I am unsure how to comfort you when these thoughts enter your head. I just want you to know that… you’re stronger than you think, Patton. You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Pat nearly dropped the phone, turning up to face Logan again. And he just couldn’t help but notice how close they were… so close their noses were almost touching, so close he could see every detail in Logan’s eyes, so close that he could feel Logan’s breath on his lips and more suddenly then he could process, he realized he wanted to kiss Logan. He wanted to kiss him so bad.

He didn’t have a second to ponder this new thought before Logan closed the space between them, connecting their lips softly and Patton’s heart exploded. How had he gone this long without realizing he had a crush on the huge space nerd he lived with? Was he that obliviously gay? The necklace slipped from his fingers as he reached up, hands tangling in Logan’s hair as a silent sign that this is okay oh god it is so much more than okay.

When they finally pulled apart, panting, Patton couldn’t help the tiny laugh that bubbled out of his chest.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“My apologies. I should have asked beforehand.”

“No, don’t be! You’re so adorable, Logie.” Patton giggled at the way Logan’s face turned even redder, finally standing up from his chair. “Do you want to watch a movie? If you don’t have to help Thomas, that is.”

That’s the way birthdays usually ended in the mindscape. After tearing through presents and doing a sad excuse for clean up, they’d all watch a movie of the birthday-side’s choice. It usually ended with a few, if not all of them, fast asleep on the couch. If Logan was still awake, he’d usher them all into bed, preaching about proper sleeping habits. If he’d also conked out, however, no one complained to a huge sleepover all over the living room. The cuddles were something Patton looked forward to more than any gift. 

Only now it was just him and Logan, which definitely was not a bad thing, but his little squeak of joy when Logan nodded mutely was not as bright as it usually was. The logic side didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he was just distracted by the way Patton cuddled into his side as soon as the movie started. He couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him as the title sequence for Hercules ran across the TV, and Patton almost leapt at the sound, delighted. 

His joy didn’t last, though. Watching the gods argue only reminded him of his own family in a way that made him want to slap himself. Couldn’t he enjoy anything anymore? But goodness, Hades just had Virgil’s essence down to a tee, and Zeus was too similar to Roman to just let it slide… He wondered what they were doing right now. He had to admit, though foolish as it was, that even while he was preparing his make-shift toast dinner and eating with Logan and turning on the movie, that maybe this was all an elaborate ploy. That any second, they’d all rise up with decorations and cake and shout “Happy Birthday!” and that they hadn’t really forgotten him.

Maybe that’s why he got so incredibly excited when Janus and Virgil popped in out of nowhere, now much more relaxed then when they’d left earlier. But that stupid stupid hope was vanquished as Virgil collapsed next to him on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Fine, you were right. Thomas needed the stupid nap. Are you happy?”

“Not at all,” Janus smirked, turning to the TV, “What are we watching? Oh, Hercules? I despise this movie.” He dropped onto the floor in a satisfied heap, leaning against Virgil’s legs. Neither of them acknowledged the tiny affectionate gesture, so Patton decided to ignore it too.

Like they ignored you.

Just as Hercules met Meg for the first time, there was a loud shriek upstairs and loud thumping as a blur of red and white tumbled down the stairs, cursing all the way. 

“You son of a bitch!”

Janus glanced at the lump of prince at the bottom of the stairs, pleased. “Ah, he took my suggestion.” 

Remus followed after him, giggling to himself. He stepped over Roman giddily, making his way over to the group and splaying himself across Janus’ lap. “You proud o’ me, Snakey?”

“Never.” 

Roman brushed himself off, joining the group with an angry grumble about “wasted bonding time”. And Patton wanted to be happy, he wanted to so badly, because he was finally in a group with his family, and that’s all he wanted, right? Then why did it feel tainted? On a normal night, watching a movie as a group wasn’t unusual, so he could just pretend that it was that. A normal, non-birthday night. That’s all it was. 

Because if it was a birthday night, he’d be in the middle of the weird cuddle pile that Virgil, Janus, and Remus had formed. Roman would be running his fingers through his hair, not Virgil’s, and they would give up their stupid bickering for one evening so they could focus on him, but no, that’s just selfish and he can’t ask for that. He didn’t even notice he was crying until Logan’s arms tightened around him and he looked up, meeting his confused eyes, and giving his head a small shake to show not now. And he really didn’t want to be held right now, he realized in shock, and gently untangled himself from Logan’s arms to sit alone, untouched, against the couch that suddenly felt it was filled with rocks instead of fluff. Logan complied with a sigh, turning his attention back to the fight at Olympus. 

Patton had never once in his life been happy that a movie night was over until now. As the credits began to roll, Logan stood stiffly, popping his back. The other sides were in varying states of sleep, exhausted from the day. 

“It’s not healthy for you all to sleep on the floor. At least try to get yourselves to your beds,” Logan bent down and gave Patton a chaste kiss on the head, letting his hand linger on his cheek for a moment. And then he uttered the words Patton hadn’t even realized he was dreading. 

“Happy birthday again, Patton. Goodnight, everyone.”

Never had Patton seen anyone wake up as fast as the other sides did as Logan froze on the steps, not expecting the commotion. Roman was the first to break the silence that followed.

“Is it-”

“Fuck.” Virgil dropped his face into his hands.

“It is. It definitely is.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh god, we’re such idiots.”

“No!” Patton interrupted, quickly putting on the biggest smile he could muster, “It’s okay, you guys! Really!”

Janus stood up slowly, as if scared moving too quickly would spook him, “Patton, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because…” Whether the sounds that were ripped from his throat were laughs or  sobs, or some weird mix in between, he’d never know, “Because you guys had other stuff to worry about! You-” He pointed to Janus and Virgil, “Had to help Thomas, and you-” To the twins, “Had that whole bonding thing planned! I wasn’t about to remind you of something you didn’t even care about in the first place!”

He slapped his hand to his mouth as soon as the words slipped out, the laugh disappearing into a horrified gasp. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” It was barely a whisper. Patton didn’t wait to see the looks on the other’s faces. He pushed past Logan and bolted up the stairs, finally letting the tears he’d held at bay the entire day stream down his cheeks. 

Usually, his “no lock on the door” invitation was meant to remind the others that he was always there for them, and they’d never meet a locked door if they needed him. However, now as he curled up facing the wall, crying freely for the first time in who knows how long, he wished there was a lock to stop whoever had just walked into his room. The side was quiet, standing in his doorway, and Patton just wished whoever it was would walk away. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, he didn’t want to look in their guilt filled eyes and listen to them apologize, because how well would that even go? He’d insist it’s okay when on the inside he feels shattered, and he wouldn’t drop it until they agreed with him, and then everyone would feel better except him and maybe a tiny, tiny, part of him was sickeningly pleased that they were upset. That realization made him want to throw up. He let out another unmuffled sob as the nausea churned in his stomach.

Patton felt the bed dip as the person sat just behind him, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder.

“I wish you would have told me, Patton.”

Logan.

“Th-they forgot ab-about me,” he choked out, struggling to no avail to push down the hiccupy sobs. Logan sighed. There was nothing he could say that could make the situation better. The facts were there. The sides had forgotten about Patton’s birthday, a day that Patton cherished greatly. Patton never forgot anyone, and that had not been reciprocated. 

“The whole d-day, I thou-thought that it was just… just a bi-big surprise. Or that they’d rem-remember later. But they didn’t.”

Another sigh. “Patton, can you look at me?” 

He rolled over slowly, letting go of the pillow he was curled around. Even in the dim light, Logan could make out the tear tracks curving down his cheeks, the redness of eyes, the look of complete and utter heartbreak. As gently as he could, he pulled on Patton’s hands until he got the message to sit up.  

“I’m sorry. I truly am.” 

Logan wasn’t one for emotions, or feelings, or anything of the sort. It went against all logic, afterall. But he would be lying if he said the way Patton threw himself around him and clung to him like the world was ending didn’t somehow fill in a piece of his heart that he didn’t know was missing. He’d gotten a lot of hugs from the moral side, yet this one was different. It wasn’t brought on by joy or a ‘goodnight’ or a simple need for human contact. This was so much more. It was pain and anger and raw emotion that of course Patton felt, as the heart, but never showed. Whether all of that was aimed at the others or Patton himself would be a conversation for when he wasn’t sobbing brokenly into his shoulder, in the morning when they had to face the reactions of the group. 

For now, they both relished in the feeling of whatever they had, something more than friendship but again, that was a topic for tomorrow. Tonight it was just them, Patton’s twinkling fairy lights, and the star necklace trapped between their beating hearts.

#lywrites #sanders sides fanfiction #oneshot #logicality #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sandersides #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders

[sher-soc-the-famder]

Miraculously Their Own- Chapter 4

Not Every Card’s A Trump Part 3

Word Count:  4962

Pairings: Romantic Royaltiy, Platonic LAMP

Warnings: Cursing, Child abuse, Physical and emotional abuse

Notes: My apologies for the lack of update last week guys! I was out of town, as I will be next week as well. For now have this A N G S T XD and I’ll see about getting two chapters up the next time I update! Updates on Fridays and as always! A huge thanks to @wisepuma23!

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Tag List:  @notveryglittery @milomeepit @beach-fan @ab-artist @i-read-by-lamp

Roman leaned back against the bench just outside of the group home, holding the ice cream in his hand gently. Patton had to stay at the school late to deal with a troublesome student which left Roman to visit Logan alone that day. Every other day, they tried to meet the kid, or at least Roman did. Patton was a little busier, and his schedule less flexible, but still. That didn't mean they weren't trying.

The look on Logan's face every time they stepped through the door made it worth it every time. Without fail.

Roman sort of understood why they couldn't just take Logan home, especially with how prickly the kid could get. Logan needed reassurance, needed time to settle before a change. They needed to make sure that he fit and blah blah blah blah. Roman wished that people weren't so stupid about things like this. Even if they were able to take Logan home right then, there was paperwork and the payments and everything that made Roman want to punch a wall.

"And that's how the body digests something like this," Logan murmured, staring at his own ice cream cone, "It's fascinating how the different sugars are broken down the same way and yet do different things for the body. Such simple things, and yet the body is so complex."

"And yet," Roman said with a grin, "It'll still throw a fit at something as simple as stubbing a toe. Or will forget the thing you went to pick up when you switch rooms. I'd like an upgrade thank you very much."

"You can't just upgrade your body," Logan glowered at him.

"Watch me," Roman said. Mostly just to see the affront on the kids face. "You think I can't do it bud?"

"I know so," Logan snapped, "If you're so imbecilic to think that you can upgrade something that took thousands, if not millions of years to evolve, then there's less matter between your ears than I thought."

Roman whistled, "Bringing out the big words today I see." he grinned. "So what about prosthetics? Or tattoos?"

"Patches to a system that's falling apart, and art," Logan replied promptly.

"And if someone would take offence to the idea that they need to be 'patched'?" Roman asked, bringing his dripping ice cream up to lick at smugly. "People aren't broken after all, just different."

“Different like you?” Logan asked, and Roman tried to gauge how sarcastic the phrase was this time.

“Sure,” he said easily. The kid blinked adorably and Roman wanted to ruffle his hair. He had seen the way Logan ducked away from the matron’s hands though, and he didn’t want to intrude if the kid wanted space. Foster kids got so little respect already, he didn’t want to add to it. Soon though, soon he’d ask. “Everyone’s a little different, Stephen Kid, intelligence, sexuality, hobbies, personalities, bodies, seven billion people in the world and not one of them the same!”

Roman bit down on his ice cream, taking the time to keep it from dripping down onto his hand. Logan stared at him, and Roman grinned. "I think it's the coolest thing in the world," he said, "That everyone has their own story and adventures and evil kings to slay for their happy ever after. So yeah, I'm different, Patton's different, even a little shit like you is different."

He brought his ice cream forwards and booped it on Logan's nose, cackling as the kid's eyes crossed to follow it. Logan wrinkled his now chocolate covered nose and glared at him. "If being different means acting like you, I'm not sure I want to." "Aww, I'm hurt bud, really, truly, who wouldn't want to be like me?" Roman said. His chest felt warm with amusement and fondness. Logan really was a good kid and never boring. "Besides, Patton's different too. I'm not the only one. Seven billion Logan. Seven billion! It's never ending! Just an endless stream of change and learning!"

Logan looked down at his melting ice cream, and Roman fought the urge to bump their shoulders. Respect, Sanders, he could respect Logan's space. "I guess," Logan muttered, before pausing, "So then like, every child here?"

"Different," Roman said confidently, "Maybe in small ways, maybe bigger. They all talk and walk differently. Each one has different experiences."

"So then," Logan voice was small enough that Roman straightened from his scrunched lean. "What sort of differences were you looking for?"

Roman could read that tone as easy as if he were breathing

What were you looking for in me?

Why me?

He took a deep breath and bent over to look Logan in the eye. "Patton and I were looking for a child to love. There were no 'requirements,' no specific quality that we wanted. We wanted to help someone Logan, to give someone a home, parents, we want a family. You-" Roman tapped his fingers on his leg.

“I was entertaining,” Logan said, and the simple way he said it broke Roman’s heart. Logan blinked as he shook his head, and the kid took a gamely stab in the dark again. “I was mature?” Another shake of Roman’s head. “Adorable then.”

Roman chuckled and shook his head one more time. His hands twitched, wanting to show how much he cared, a hand on the shoulder, fingers through Logan’s hair, something, anything, but he refrained. The hair on his arm raised, his eyes flickering up to see one of the matrons he hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to yet staring down at them.

Time was up, and Roman hated it. He was so sick of just visiting.

“Not quite, bud,” Roman said softly, looking back down at Logan, “Because you were different.”

“And you love different,” Logan said, his face solemn as he nodded. Roman let out a quiet, short breathy laugh at the way Logan acted like he had solved the world’s greatest mystery. He stood, eyes on the matron again, rolling the thought that she made him nervous around in his head.

“No, I love you,” Roman corrected idly, “Now come on, that matron of yours is going to burn my face off if she stares at us any harder. And since my face is a gift to this world, we should want to keep it where it is, meaning our time must be up.”

Silence meet his ears like a stone and Roman knew that he had given Logan at least two different openings to take. The kid should have been mocking him at that moment, for his arrogance or the fact that faces couldn’t melt or whatever at the very least. Roman turned to get a better look at Logan, only for Logan to mutter, “We should go.”

Fuck, Logan never wanted to end the visits early. Roman scrambled to back-track his conversation with him to figure out what had set the kid off as they trudged towards the group home.

“Ah,” the broader set woman in the doorway said, “You must be the Mr. Sanders everyone's been whispering about. I hope you found your time with Logan…. pleasant?”

Roman hated her already. She held her hand out to him and he shook it with a plastic smile. “Yes! That would be me! And you would be….?” He trailed off meaningfully, Logan shifting at his side.

The matron glanced down, drawn by the movement. She jerked her head, and Logan ducked his head. He practically raced inside, tripping over his feet in his haste. The stone in Roman's throat dropped to his stomach, at least until the matron opened her mouth again.

“Ms. Trumpbull, it is a pleasure to meet you,” the woman practically simpered, and the worst part of his panic relaxed. “I do hope that you come to visit young Logan again! Perhaps you're thinking of….?”

It was her turn to trail off meaningfully. God, she thought of the kids as things to sell, and it made his blood boil. It could have been worse though, so much worse, and even that thought made Roman swallow down bile. His fake grin grew, “Oh, I'd love to! We have to talk it over first, and really we want to make sure that Logan wants to be a part of the household first as well.”

Roman could pinpoint the moment the matron’s own smile grew a little forced. “Is that so? Well, don't you worry! We'll make sure he's on his best behavior until then.”

She winked, and Roman forced an awkward laugh. “Well, I really must be going,” he said. His foot stepped back without a thought. Without any further pleasantries, Roman spun on his heels and hurried off, fighting down the urge to scratch at his skin. God, he didn't think they could get Logan out of there soon enough.

He bit down on his lip, reminded of Logan's out of character rush to be done. Or maybe they wouldn't be the ones getting Logan out. Fuck, Roman picked up his pace, and hoped he hadn't ruined everything.

~~

So as you can see, the metaphor that Mary Shelley was trying to convey was-

Patton sighed as the words swam together, and he brought his fingers up under his glasses to scrub at his eyes. Lisa was a wonderful girl, but she just couldn’t quite grasp an impersonal essay. He wondered if scheduling another session with a tutor for her would help, because at this rate she wouldn’t pass even his summer course.

Giggling caught his attention. Patton’s eyes drifted towards the pair of children playing with toys in the corner, and then to the boy sitting next to him. Logan turned a page in the book he was reading. Peaceful, Patton had to admit. He hoped the fact that Logan could just enjoy his presence was a good sign, but couldn’t help the way his fingers traced Lisa’s essay nervously.

He had to fight the urge to call his mothers every night and ask if they were doing this right. If a good parent did this or did that, if they should push more or back off more or try to talk to Logan more. Roman had been confident until his last visit with Logan, and not the fake confidence his husband could wear sometimes. Patton smiled softly to himself.

Roman was a rock, someone to lean on when Patton needed support.

“Were they that bad?” Logan asked, and Patton blinked, started out of his thoughts. Logan leaned over to get a better look at the papers, his own book discarded on his lap. Whoops, Patton really must have zoned out to not have noticed Logan staring at him. “Their writing?” Logan tried again, eyes serious and steady. “Was that why you were staring at it so hard?”

Patton giggled, tilting his papers so Logan could have a better view. He wasn’t one to give up a learning opportunity. Neither of them were. “Not bad,” Patton corrected gently. “Being wrong isn’t a bad thing. It means that as a teacher I have to try harder to figure out why they’re not understanding the material. They’re still learning! It’s what school is for after all.”

“That’s not what my last teacher said,” Logan said, doubt leaking into his voice as he looked back up at Patton. “He said that if I was getting it wrong then I wasn’t trying hard enough and I was disrespecting him.”

“Ah,” Patton said. He struggled to keep his voice from falling flat and giving Logan the wrong idea. He took a deep breath and tried to picture Logan as one of his students at the very beginning of the year. It was never his fault that the adults that taught him had different ideas than Patton. “Well, I would respectfully disagree with him. It’s my job as a teacher to help my students learn and understand my curriculum. If they don’t it means that I’m not doing my job.”

“Is-” Patton hummed encouragingly when Logan cut himself off. He watched the boy fiddle with his book. “Is that why you’re not around as often? Because you need to help them?”

"Yeah, of course, kiddo! It's....well, my life's work. Teaching kids make me happy. But that doesn't mean it's the only thing that makes me happy. Golly, I get happy every time I get ice cream! I know I'm not around often as I'd like, but there's ways around that," Patton smiled, and waited for Logan to look at him, "You make me happy too. And no matter how happy my dream career makes me, I will always put you first Logan, it’s what my mom told me! I love all of my kids, but as my son? You win by a long shot."

Logan looked fragile, his eyes wavering sightly as he stared at Patton. Oops, he had probably said a little too much for how close they were at the moment. Not that he didn’t think of Logan as his son! He absolutely was! Patton just wasn’t sure Logan was ready to cross that line. Logan kept a careful distance for his own safety and Patton could respect that.

He flipped through the papers in his hands, and broke the tense silence with some light teasing. “I mean, working is how we make living here work-” Patton grinned at Logan’s groan, and forged onwards, “-we still have to eat after all. Pay for electricity, the house, so on, so forth. Buy a certain smart boy some books maybe. Though just between you and me,” He winked. “Roman’s happier when he doesn’t have to think about things like that.”

Patton paused, a thought crossing his mind. “Speaking of Ro, still no luck with his bet?”

Logan crossed his arms and scowled, “He’s cheating.”

Patton raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep his face serious. His lips twitched and his eyes danced with amusement. “Oh really? And how’s he doing that?”

“I dunno, but he is! Stop-! No, don’t laugh at me!” Patton brought the essays up to cover his face, wheezing as he tried to hold back laughter as Logan pouted.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! It’s just that,” Patton wiped at a tear in his eye, “Logan, do you really think that Roman, light of my life he may be, could pull off subtle cheating? When he couldn’t keep the fact that he was planning on proposing to me quiet for even a week?”

Logan flushed, cheeks dusting a light pink. He looked away sharply and Patton gave himself a Patton the back (Ha!) for dispelling the tension. Logan grumbled under his breath, an adorable anger that deflated as soon as he looked back at Patton. “Do you think,” Logan chewed on his bottom lip and Patton bit back a squeal. “Do you think I could get a hint? Would that be-” Logan tripped over his last words, Patton’s eyes softening at the nervousness.

Would I be stupid if I need help?

“I mean, I did say helping people learn was my job,” Patton said, in the same coaxing voice he’d use for an anxious student. He tapped his chin, “Ok I think I’ve got a good one! Roman is just as loud at work as he is usually, if not louder.”

“That doesn’t help at all!” Logan protested.

Patton spread his hands wide, before quickly reaching to keep his student's essays in his lap. “You did ask for a hint kiddo, besides, you two seem like you’re having fun with it! You- are having fun right? Golly, I didn’t even think about that, gosh I can tell Roman to call it off if you want-”

“No!” Patton’s papers scattered, the force of Logan’s protest making him jump, and Patton bit back a curse. He scrambled to gather them back up before they were damaged in the chaos of the other kids, and blinked as Logan hurried to follow his example. “I’m sorry,” Logan whispered, his face pale and Patton shook his head, glasses slipping down his nose from the force of it.

“Whoops,” Patton pushed them back up his nose and took the essays that Logan held out to him. “It’s fine Logan! Accidents happen, and look!” He held the stack up proudly, “Not one of them damaged!”

Logan ducked his head. Patton bit back a sigh, and very lightly tapped Logan on the head with the stack of papers. “Hey now,” he said seriously as Logan’s head whipped up in surprise, “Turn that frown upside down, Farmer Brown! I’m the one who should be apologizing anyways, I should have waited for you to respond before practically running you over with my words.”

Logan shrugged, fiddling with his sleeves, and Patton worried his bottom lip. “Hey how bout I make it up to you? It might not stack up all that well next to some of the things Roman does, but this old Pop's got a few good ideas in this ol’ brain of his!” He paused, “It's been a while since it's been all three of us hasn't it? Gosh a whole what, week and a half? Two? How ‘bout that? I can get a sub for the day and it can just be us!”

“Oh,” Logan said softly, Patton almost thought it was reverently. “Would- would you really-?”

Patton sat back down, patting the spot next to him. “For you kiddo, I'd buy the stars,” he said, only half-jokingly.

Logan took in a sharp breath, reaching down to clutch his book tight. Carefully, Logan sat down next to him, and then Patton held his own breath, trying not to freeze or lock up as Logan leaned over against him. A tiny weight against his side, not quite fully there, Logan no doubt waiting for Patton to pull away, to say something.

Instead, Patton just as carefully draped an arm over Logan's shoulders and asked, “So have you read Frankenstein before?”

“Not yet,” Logan murmured, relaxing into Patton’s side, “‘s it good?”

“I certainly think so! Not much for a casual read though, but it brings a lot of interesting discussion to the classroom,” Patton said, marking another point off of Lisa’s essay. He paused and added a note about something he liked as well, making sure to underline it and draw a smiley face next to it. “I’m not sure if it’s above your reading level or not, but I think you might enjoy it. It explores themes of humanity and intelligence, just like you do!”

“Mr. Sanders?” Patton’s skin crawled at the sudden silence that engulfed the room. One of the more heavy set matrons stepped into the doorway, and Patton swallowed. It was entirely possible that this matron simply had earned the children’s respect, Patton had known teachers like that after all. Ones who preferred their students quiet and obedient more than anything else. Not all of them bad.

But not all of them good either.

“That would be me!” Patton said, giving Logan’s shoulders a squeeze before letting go to stand up. He knew that he imagined it, but for a split second, Patton could have sworn that Logan’s hands brushed against his shirt. As if asking him to stay. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before?”

He stuck his hand out and there was a long moment that she stared down at him. Patton kept his smile steady, years of long practise meaning it didn’t waver.

“Trumpbull,” the matron replied finally, taking his hand, and her face twisting into a smile that looked almost painful. Patton winced as she gripped his hand just a shade too tight. “I see that young Logan’s been drawing a lot of attention recently.”

“He is an exceptional lad,” Patton said, something staying his hand. Literally, in that something about Ms. Trumpbull eyes kept him from dropping a hand defensively on Logan’s head.

“Well,” Ms. Trumpbull said, “I do hope he’s been on his best behavior? He hasn’t given you any trouble? Logan’s been known to, well, scare off possible parents, for lack of a better phrasing.”

“Oh absolutely! Wait I mean, no he hasn’t, wait- Dang it, sorry.” Patton took a deep breath, “Logan’s been nothing but a delight. Really, I enjoy the time that we get to spend together.” His smile tightened, turned the slightest bit sharp, “I’m not sure why someone wouldn’t want to spend time with such a bright boy, but then again, some people just can’t see a good thing even when it’s right under their nose.”

Logan sucked in a sharp breath behind him. Oops. Patton hadn’t meant to let that slip.

“I see,” Ms. Trumpbull said. Patton winced, but didn’t take the words back. He stared her down for a long moment before she said, “Just as I see that your students must be handfuls if you approach them with that sort of attitude when it comes to troublemakers.”

“Oh?” Patton said, his head tilted politely. “Do you struggle with a rash of them then? Because I don’t have all that many in my classes. They’re all sunshine and rainbows. I respect that they’re willing to put in the effort after all.”

“Oh, and I’m sure effort isn’t all they need.”

Patton felt his teeth grind under his smile. Polite insults were one of the things he hated the most about having to keep a professional air and attitude. Telling a group home matron to her face that he doesn’t agree with her way of dealing with children wouldn’t end well. Not with his boss and not with the people who held Logan’s papers. If he pushed them too far, they could simply ask them to not return.

Patton wasn’t sure he could take that. Could stand having Logan ripped away from them.

“Maybe for you,” Logan said dryly, and Patton’s eyes snapped over to Logan. “Patton makes things easier to understand. What do you do?”

Ms. Trumpbull’s face twitched and Patton cut in before she could open her mouth to speak. “That’s very kind of you Logan,” Patton beamed at the kid, who smiled shyly back. No wonder Roman was raring to take Logan home already. Patience. A little bit longer and they’d ask. “But it’s important to remember to respect the people looking after you as well.”

“I think,” Ms. Trumpbull said through grit teeth, “That it’s about time you head home Mr. Sanders.”

Patton nodded, and turned to the slightly pale Logan. Logan ducked his head and Patton crouched down to his level, something in Patton’s gut telling him to stick with Logan as long as possible. “Would you walk me out, kiddo?”

Logan nodded, once and sharply before hurrying towards the door. “Have a nice night, Ms. Trumpbull,” Patton called out over his shoulder, longer catching up with Logan easily. Logan’s hand brushed against his fingers, not grasping, but still, and Patton made sure to wave as he left.

Soon, he told himself, soon.

~~

Trumpbull’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Logan bit back a hiss as the matron steered him through the hallways. His hands were shaking Logan noted distantly, as he stumbled trying to keep up with her relentless pace. The eyes of the other children bored into his back, and Logan tried not to be reminded of the real reason none of the other kids would spend time with him.

They wouldn’t want to pick up his bad influence.

The stairs to the basement yawned in front of them and Logan didn’t bother to bite his tongue. It was too late for that already. “Recent articles state that negative reinforcement actually increases the likelihood of problem children. Then again I know that you’re not all that big on recent-”

Trumpbull’s hand tightened on his shoulder and her voice dropped into a low whisper, “Would you prefer the closet tonight?”

Logan snapped his mouth shut fast enough that he caught his tongue and the taste of copper bloomed in his mouth. “No, ma’am,” he said quietly. She nodded, satisfied at his obedience.

With each step down into the basement, the pressure on Logan’s chest grew, the white noise of the rest of the group home fading behind them. Even the ever creaking wood grew silent, leaving only the pounding of his own heartbeat. The lower temperature brushed against Logan’s temple, the hair on his arms raising as he swore he heard something skitter in the walls around them.

Trumpbull’s hand finally left his shoulder as she shoved him towards the desks that sat in the low light. He stumbled towards them, hating the relief he felt that it was going to be lines today, hating that he had to feel relief at all.

The chair creaked dangerously as he sat carefully down in it, laying his palms flat on the cool metal to keep them steady and still. Logan couldn’t help watching Trumpbull as she made her way across the stone floor. Even though he knew that he was only doing lines, a fraction of the pressure on his chest eased as she made her way past the doors to the closet to dig through the desk drawer next to it.

Despite bracing himself, Logan still jumped at the sharp crack that echoed through the room, Trumpbull studying the ruler that she had slammed against the desk. “Do you know what you've done this time?” She asked. Her footsteps echoed in the space, and even with her approaching Logan didn't hold back.

“I opened my mouth? And you hate kids so everything I do is wrong-”

He flinched as the ruler slammed down, mere inches from his fingers. His face paled, eyes wide as Trumpbull leaned down into his space. “Perhaps you want to try that again, brat. I've been amazingly lenient lately haven't I?”

Logan took a shuddering breath, eyes locked into the ruler. “I'm afraid I don't know this time, ma’am,” he whispered. The ruler tapped his chin, raising his head to meet Trumpbull’s eyes. She raised an eyebrow, the ruler keeping Logan from ducking his head. The words that he knew she was expecting tasted bitter in his mouth, “Would you please ma’am, teach me how to be a better child?”

The ruler finally dropped, Logan’s shoulders slumping with his head. “It would be my pleasure young Logan,” Trumpbull said warmly. She tucked the ruler under her arm, and bent down, metal rattling as she pulled the handcuffs attached to each desk open. The metal tightened around his wrists, just enough to pinch the delicate skin. “Today, you made Mr. Sanders lie.”

“What?” Logan asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“About you,” Trumpbull lectured, “Nothing but a delight? You want me to believe that you haven’t disrespected them every chance that you’ve gotten?”

“He didn’t lie!” Logan protested, “Roman likes-”

The ruler descended, only this time it really did land on his hands, and Logan bit down on a yelp. He blinked back tears. The chains rattled as he tried to yank his hands back, an instinct he could never break himself of. One that earned him another rap along his forearms.

“Really?” Trumpbull raised an eyebrow, “You think there’s anyone who would like being called an idiot? Likes feeling shown up by a know it all child? Then why would Mr. Sanders have been tense? His smile so fixed? He was lying because he's a nice, responsible man, and we're lucky I could see what he really meant so that we can correct your behavior."

Logan shook his head, his voice weak, “No he- they-”

“Love you?” Trumpbull sighed, “Please Logan be honest, with yourself and with me. Who could ever love you?” Logan trembled and her fingers, meaty and thick, traced his jawline, “I try, I really do, but there’s trouble written into your bones. When you stop making me discipline you, maybe then, but we both know that day’s not going to come.”

Logan’s eyes burned, blinking rapidly in the hopes of keep his tears from falling. Trumpbull dropped a stack of papers and a pen in front of him, and Logan reached out with an aching hand to grip the pen.

“Three hundred lines,” Trumpbull said sternly, “‘I will not make Mr. Sanders lie.’”

Logan hesitated for a split second, though even that was too long for the matron. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as the ruler hit his arm again. He started, staring down as line after line appeared under his hand. The handcuffs bit into his wrist every time he moved, a pain that couldn’t match the way the words sunk into his head.

I will not make Mr. Sanders lie

I will not make Mr. Sanders lie

I will not make Mr. Sanders lie

Logan couldn’t breath, the pen dropping to the floor as he finally finished, wrists raw and holding back tears. He sat, still and quiet as Trumpbull gathered up the papers and unlocked his wrists. He moved mechanically, stiff from his hours in the desk, shuffling along behind Trumpbull back up the stairs and to his room.

Everything fell silent as Trumpbull opened the door and ushered him inside. For once, their eyes didn’t feel like weights on his shoulders, a reminder of how alone he would always be. Instead, he collapsed onto his bed, and curled up as small as he could make himself, hands clutched to his chest.

Covers pulled over his head in the closest thing to privacy he would get, Logan sobbed silently. “He- he loves me,” he whispered to himself, “He does, he does, he loves me.” He could hear the doubt in his own voice and pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his sobbing. “He does, he does, he does, he does-”

#Sanders sides #Adoption AU #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #Royality #logan sander #Platonic Logince #platonic logicality #Angst #Child abuse #Cursing #physical abuse #Emotional abuse #The cute fluff is now met with angst XD #I'm just gonna...go now #Before y'all can murder me #MTO #miraculously their own

[sam-i-am-27]

When Dreamscapes Cross - Pt 1

Summary: After a long day of panels and fans at a convention, all Thomas wanted was some good nights rest. But not even in the dreamscape did he imagine meeting more Sides, and from two others with ‘Sides’ of their own, nonetheless. 

Word Count: 2316

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6

“It was great to meet you all and I wish I could just give you all a hug and give you all the time I could to personally talk to you, but I’m out of time. So for now, take it easy my gals and non-binary pals. Peace out!” Thomas said, smiling at the resounding cheers that came from this. He waved goodbye one last time and exited backstage, feeling like he was on Cloud 9. The entire room had been packed to the brim with beaming fans, each of whom had supported his work for the past few years and today he had got the chance to thank them. He just wished his friends could have been there since they were a huge part of the turnout, but they had other priorities. Thomas would have to send them all the videos and pictures he had gotten of what had just happened. 

He collapsed on a random chair and ran his hands through his purple hair, a broad grin spreading across his face. No matter how many times he got on stage, no matter how often he looked at what his fans did in support for him, he couldn’t get over the rush and happiness it brought him. There were no words to describe how amazing it was, but if there was, he’d use it far too often.

“That was great!” Thomas jumped a little as Patton appeared next to him, sitting on top of a stack of boxes, legs crossed and eyes watery. 

“Aw, Pat, are you alright?” Thomas asked softly. 

“I just have a lot of feelings,” his morality replied, wiping his eyes on his cardigan sleeve.

“I must agree with Patton,” Roman said, popping up directly next to Thomas. “Those fans care so much about what we do and that was the perfect mix of drama, excitement and love. And must I say that your singing was on-point, Thomas.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Thomas responded. 

“I believe that in approximately ten minutes you have a backstage ‘meet-up’ with some of your admirers who paid extra money to meet you,” Logan interrupted, popping up next to the exit looking as formal as ever. 

“Yes, I know, Logan. I was just catching my breath,” Thomas said. “What’d you think of that?” 

“It was something we rarely do so it was, of course, unpredictable, but I found it rather enjoyable,” Logan replied simply. “It was organized to the point that you knew what was going to happen next but had just a touch of creativity-”

“Yes, that was my doing.”

“... as I was saying, enough, how do I say it... well to put it simply, there was a certain element to it that was explainable and yet enjoyable,” Logan continued, glaring at Roman. 

“Well I’m glad that you liked it. I know how much you like your organization so I tried my best to stay on schedule,” Thomas said. “How about Virgil, what did he think?”

“Oh, he’s a little tired right now,” Patton said. 

“With this being such a new kind of performance, it took a little more out of him than it does with a normal theater production,” Logan explained. “He is currently recuperating in his room but he promised to be out as soon as his energy was back again.”

“Oh I’m sure he will. Can’t drag that ray of sunshine down,” Roman said. “I guess we’ll be there helping him recover until he’s ready to come out of his room. Cheerio!” 

“Remember not to be late to the ‘meet-up’ in approximately eight minutes,” Logan said, sinking back into Thomas’s mind. 

“I’ll be making baking and the cookie is out!” Patton said, starting to fade away.

“Not your best one, Pat,” Thomas said. 

“Yeah I know...” Patton replied as he disappeared. Thomas sighed and leaned back, chuckling slightly as he imagined Roman, Logan and Virgil bickering as Patton tried to get them to eat chocolate chip cookies. Roman would try to pass them up in order to keep himself as healthy as possible but would give in eventually because even Roman couldn’t ignore cookies. Logan would have a very similar reaction and might even pull a Patton and steal a second one. Virgil would take one without question. Cookies always calmed him down after a live performance. He made a mental note to stop and get some after the meet-up... or did Logan? 

Thomas sighed, knowing those types of questions wouldn’t be answered simply but he could at least rely on his Sides to keep him in check. 

There had been more people than Thomas thought there were going to be and each one had more than one piece of amazing art. This unfortunately meant that he had to use a laundry basket to carry it all up to his hotel room, which earned him a glance or two. Not that he minded; if people were looking at him because of the art, that was fine. It was amazing to see the type of commitment each of them put into their art and if people saw it, that was more than anyone could ask for. 

After a little struggle of getting through into his hotel room, he was finally able to relax. He set the artwork on the table and then collapsed onto the bed, his eyes stinging from tiredness. 

“You should probably post on Snapchat that you’ve finished and that you have returned to your hotel room,” Logan said, popping up next to the table. 

“Yeah...” Thomas groaned, grasping at the phone in his pocket clumsily. 

“But first, I would brush that rats nest that you call hair,” Roman added, appearing on the arm of the couch already holding a hair brush. Thomas sighed and took the brush, using one hand to brush his hair and the other to open the app. Just before he started the video, he heard Logan give a little cough. 

“Yeah?” 

“You, uh, forgot to pick up a snack on your way back here,” Logan said pointedly. 

“I will, don’t worry. Just let me get this posted and then... I can ask Room Service to bring one up for me including some dinner,” Thomas mumbled. 

“That would just cost extra money. Just go down there and get the food personally,” Logan said. 

“But he’s tired and needs his sleep. Going all the way downstairs for a cookie that might be there is pointless when sleep is so much more important!” Roman argued. 

“Logan, it won’t cost that much so I’m going to order the cookie from Room Service because I’m too tired to actually go down. I won’t order any more food than that ‘cause I’ve got some extra food from yesterday’s meal. Roman, I won’t have it all. Like half of it or something. Sound good?” Thomas asked. 

“I guess,” Roman replied. 

“It is an acceptable compromise,” Logan said and began to fade away. “Enjoy your snack, Thomas.”

“Bye, Logan,” Thomas said. 

“Thomas if you want to, go ahead and eat it all,” Roman said. “I’m sure that Patton will insist on you eating all of it no matter what the others say.”

“That’s true, sorry,” he said and waved as Roman disappeared. He sighed and called up the front desk. While waiting for the food, he took a quick Snapchat photo captioned ‘Panel and Meet-and-Greet finished! Thank you to everyone who attended and for all the support you all give!”

He smiled again and started taking individual photos of the art he had received. To him, every piece deserved to be in a museum but to others they would be deemed ‘childish’. He smiled as he photographed a creative picture of Joan made out of dyed macaroni. He could imagine Joan getting to hold it and jumping around happily, happy tears pouring down their face. He was sure that every time his heart soared as he looked through the art, that his Sides were cheering and critiquing it. 

By the time his cookie arrived, all the art had been sorted, photographed and forwarded to his friends. 

“No tip for you,” he muttered as he closed the door and took a bite of the cookie. He moaned in delight as it almost literally melted in his mouth, the bittersweet chocolate mixing perfectly with the sweet dough. “Okay... maybe there will be a tip.”

The cookie was gone within seconds and his tiredness had returned in full. Not even fighting it, he tugged a blanket over himself and instantly fell asleep.

Usually, when he fell asleep, he would float around in darkness for a while as his mind sorted everything that happened that day. Sometimes he could catch glimpses of the Side’s rooms or hear snippets of what was being said. After this, the darkness would form whatever his Sides had deemed appropriate for that night’s dreams. Most of the time, he could tell which one had created the dream (most of the time it was Roman) but others it was an obscure mess of color with no meaning. Those were usually the days where the events had taken more of an emotional toll on all of them. They were becoming rarer but they still happened.

Tonight, none of this happened. There was the darkness but it lasted barely a second before it was replaced with a physical setting that was far too detailed and perfect to be real.

Thomas looked around the strange living room, unsure of what was happening. Everything was detailed to perfection- when he bent down to study the carpet, he could see the stray strings coming out of the lumps. The room was set up similar to his own living room but it was far more spacious. The couch was larger and newer-looking, the kitchen had two stoves, a large refrigerator and an alcohol cabinet. There were multiple shelves covered in vinyls and toys but unlike his house, there were multiple characters from more mature video games than he had. They contrasted heavily against his Steven Universe plushies. It was strange...

“Guys?” he called out, his voice echoing strangely. It was exactly how his mind-palace sounded before he got the echo fixed.

He sat down on the couch, wringing his hands nervously. “If this is some new type of dream, I’m not really liking it!”

There was a thump from upstairs and multitude of yells of shock. Thomas recognized those yells as his own and raced upstairs. Sure enough, his Sides were all in a tangled mess in his now expanded bedroom.

“Guys, are you alright?” Thomas asked and helped Patton to his feet instinctively. The all realized the same thing at the same instant. Thomas had just touched Patton and they had all been physically touching each other without an illusion.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Virgil whispered. Even Patton couldn’t hide a look of fear as he cautiously helped Roman to his feet. Thomas noticed Virgil was now sitting on the bed, his legs curled up to his chest and his eyes closed as he breathed in the 4-7-8 method. The panel had already taken so much out of him and now this was happening; it was too much. 

“Patton... can you help Virgil?” Thomas asked softly. Patton nodded and immediately sat next to Virgil, whispering to him softly and talking to him in a calming tone. Thomas jerked his head towards the door and Roman and Logan followed him out. 

“So this isn’t your doing? This house?” Thomas asked nervously.

“Of course not!” Roman replied, offended. “I was actually trying to recreate the feelings you got from the experiences today but with puppies o-or cats.”

“But Thomas is allergic-”

“I know, Poindexter! I would have allowed him to be with them without reacting,” Roman replied.

“Well then what’s happening?!” Thomas asked. They all jumped at the clattering that came from downstairs. The three men looked at each other and then rushed downstairs. Where Thomas had woken up there were now seven identical men, the only thing distinguishing them being their clothing, skin and voices. 

“Ah, get off me, Chase!” one said in a heavy German accent. 

“Sorry, brah! Ow! Robbie, that was my dick!” ‘Chase’ groaned to which a groan was received. Thomas and his Sides shared a look as the group of men untangled themselves with a slew of swear words. It seemed to be quite difficult for them since there were so many and they didn’t seem to understand how to properly escape. There was a low growl from somewhere in the pile that sent a shiver up Thomas’s spine. 

“Such language!” Roman commented. Thomas wasn’t quite sure whether he was impressed, offended, or both. He and his friends had never been ones to swear so hearing this amount of swearing in one place with one word being said more often than the others was strange and almost painful to hear. But there was something familiar about it all. Many of them had the same voice but Thomas couldn’t put where he had heard it. 

There was a crash and a loud scream. Patton burst through the door, looking shaken and pale. His glasses were askew on his face and he was gaping like a fish. 

“What is it, Patton?” Logan asked. “Is it Virgil?”

He shook his head and opened the door wide. Inside, Virgil was curled up against the headboard, staring at the person who had just appeared with wide-eyed. Thomas looked at the man and felt his heart drop when he realized that he knew this person. Newly died brown hair, a scruffy beard a little bit redder than his hair, and an Irish accent weaving through every curse word spilling from his mouth. 

“What the shit is happening?!” Jacksepticeye yelled and then looked up. His eyes flickered between the three men, then to Virgil, and back to Thomas. 

“Oh... fuck...”

“Yup...” Thomas agreed softly. 

Uh... yeah! 

I got inspired by @ironwoman359‘s Sander’s Sides, Markipier Egos, and Jacksepticeye Ego crossover! 

https://ironwoman359.tumblr.com/post/168913513403/prompt-sanders-sides-meet-the-septic-egos-thomas

I got a bit planned for this and it won’t be super long but it’ll be a fun project if I go through with it!

Go read it and follow her! It’s so good and she’s got some really good content! 

Uh if you do read this, please comment or something. 

Have a good day!

#Thomas Sanders #FanFiction #Sanders Sides #Jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #markiplier egos

[randomcoil]

Chapter Fifteen: 'Or this one?! It’s so pink and fluffy!'

”Kiddo, Logan and I were talking about taking you on some shopping today, since… you know… they’re going to take you a-away from u-us. And you’d n-need stuff t-there a-a-and…” Patton smiled warmly, but the more he talked the sadder he sounded, making Virgil feel guiltier with each word.

“Patton, honey, no one is taking Virgil away from us.”

“But Joan is!” Patton sobbed.

“That is not how this work, we have been talking about this already.” Logan sighed, taking Patton’s hand in his own. “Joan is right, we cannot keep Virgil here, just because we want to. Virgil’s parents are still his legal Guardians and there are laws that-“

“But they left him! They have no say in this!”

“But the government has, Patton. Joan said this is the only possibility they could provide us with without involving the police department or any social workers. We were able to help Virgil only because his parents haven’t reported him missing and you know it.”

“Yes, but-“

“Patton, do I have to remind you that it was Virgil’s choice as well?”

“No- But- You- It’s not fair!”

“That is how this world work, Patton.”

“But-“

“Look, Virgil is still going to be here, he is going to attend the school we BOTH work at, you will be able to see him almost EVERY single day, maybe even eat lunch with him if Virgil would be up to it… Virgil is not going to disappear only because he will stay at Talyn’s.”

“You have to visit us often-“

“Well-“

“-And stay with us over weekends, kiddo!” Patton finally looked over at Virgil who just sat there quietly listening to the word exchange between the two grown up’s, trying not to disturb anyone, nervously wringing his fingers out of the joints.  Virgil didn’t really want to be a part of this conversation, but he guessed it would only turn worse if he kept silent, so he cleared his throat before speaking.

“Uhm, Patt, I-I…” Virgil looked directly into Patton’s eyes, making the biggest mistake he could possibly make. Patton’s big and glassy ‘puppy-eyes’ were tearing apart the remains of what once was Virgil’s soul, imprinting their hopeful gaze in teens brain making him give in. Virgil swallowed hard, unable to look away from the man in front of him. “…Ye-yeah, sure.”

¨¨

“What about this one? This bag should be efficient enough to accommodate all of the school necessities… And this black color should appeal to you as well, it is quite practical as it fits the most accessories and clothes we already choose for you.”

“Logan, please, it’s not necessary, really. You’ve done enough for me already.”

“Virgil, don’t be ridiculous.”

“But I’m serious. I’ll buy it on my own when I’ll be able to. Please, Lo.”

“What about this one, kiddo?! It has kitties!”

“Pat, sto-“

“Or this one?! It’s so pink and fluffy!”

“Pat.”

“Or- or-“

“Patton, pleas-“

“This one has RAINBOW ON!” Patton squealed, gawking, his hands on his cheeks. Logan only sighed, putting the black bag into the shopping cart. Logan murmured something under his breath, reading off of some piece of paper he held in his right hand, reaching for a couple of grey notebooks with his left one at the same time without even looking away from the note for a second. Patton just jumped left and right looking over at all the cute stuff the local market had to offer while Logan helped Virgil looking for the school supplies. It wasn’t one of the easier tasks as Patton was almost unbearable with all this excess energy he somehow managed to accumulate in some mysterious way and Virgil tried to convince the teach to leave the shopping mall every other minute or so, finding new ways in which he could possibly speak some sense in the older’s head. It was already past noon and they were out for about two hours, being almost at the end of the shopping list as Logan assured. They had already picked up some school utensils such as pens, markers, highlighters, notebooks, folders and etc. as well as some hygiene products and clothes. While it was quite easy to just pick whichever toothbrush and shampoo, clothes were a whole other story. With Virgil constantly denying participating in anything involving buying things for him and Patton running from shelf to shelf and picking the most ridiculous outfits there could possibly be, Logan had to pretty much do it all himself. From what he’d learned about Virgil the young teen wasn’t a huge fan of many bright colors… or anything that was bright… or colors in general… so the most of the shirts and t-shirts ranged from light grey to black, with an exception for few v-necks in dark purple, dark red and dark blue, all in the smallest size there was in the men section. While Logan knew for a fact that Virgil was quite muscular, the teen was so malnourished there was almost no fat on his person, making him really skinny… But not just skinny as in working out skinny, but the unhealthy type of skinny... Virgil was underweighted without a doubt, which was probably a result of deprivation from food, water and sleep. Just by thinking about it Logan could almost feel Virgil’s ribs poking him every single time he hugged the kid. It wasn’t the first time Logan saw something like this, Virgil just reminded him so much of a stray kitten- pushed around, denied love or any kind of care, left behind to be forgotten. There were heavy signs of strain on the teen's body alongside with many… way too many bruises and scars. Logan saw them only once, but he still couldn’t forget this horrible sight.

Logan looked back at Virgil, noticing how the teen stood there staring at his feet and clenching the rims of the sleeves of the black hoodie Patton had found him just a couple of days ago. It seemed like Virgil was feeling rather comfortable in it as he spent most of the days clothed in said hoodie even if he was proposed another options. Virgil was visibly more relaxed whenever he was enveloped in the black jacket and who was Logan to deny someone as little comfort as this?

The pants where actually much more problematic as Virgil denied revealing the size of his trousers, but one look at how Logan’s old sweatpants were presenting on the teen he guessed it would lie somewhere in small-medium as well. After some persuading from Logan Virgil actually tried on some clothes, more anxious about Patton and Logan buying him stuff in wrong sizes unnecessarily than buying him anything at all, which could be expected from the anxious boy. The clothes Logan choose for the teens fitted him quite well, so with the recently acquired knowledge on Virgil’s size, Logan got him two pairs of plain black jeans (not as skinny as the usual skinny jeans, but skinnier than the regular kind of jeans), one grey pair and one regular baby-blue one, not counting the dozen of plain black boxers Logan choose for him and another dozen, but more colourful with many different cartoons on printed on them as Patton just decided Virgil should own. There were also some white and black socks- nothing out of the regular. As for the shoes Virgil assured it was fine with the sneakers he already owned but Logan insisted on getting him some real leather boots instead. With the most things already found Patton was left with picking the little smaller things such as hairbrush and pajamas and of course, a cat onesie. Just as the majestic tradition of building pillows forts of Prince Roman’s decree told- everyone at the Sanders family should own at least one onesie. Logan might say it wasn’t as important as everyone thought, but Patton knew better and choose the cutest one the store offered. After the ‘unnecessary’, as Virgil stated, shopping, the three of them made sure to grab some groceries on the way home as Patton planned on doing some sort of a ‘farewell’ meal for Virgil, completely ignoring the fact that it would not be the last time the two of them would meet.

Hours later when they got home Virgil would take every given chance of being near Patton, Logan or even Roman, feeling an eerie and unsettling ‘something’ growing inside his body, more specifically in the very pit of his stomach, making Virgil uneasy, jittery and weirdly emotional.

Whether it was helping with cooking the meal or washing the dishes or simply just by standing near any of them.

Every time Patton hugged the teen Virgil couldn’t help but try and lean in, needing to feel the love Patton so radiated with, smirking at the giggling puffball.

Every time Roman bickered and called him names, Virgil just had to bite back, but in a much softer and friendlier manner than what he was used to doing, throwing Roman off a couple of times.

Every time Logan commented on something or began to debate with Virgil, he found himself smiling and just listening to the warm baryton of the older man, sitting there and nodding, answering if needed or expected.

Virgil really liked it, the feeling of constancy and just pure easiness, but no matter what you wouldn’t catch him dead admitting to any of it. Everything felt so right and good, but so, so wrong at the same time. At the Sanders Virgil felt at home, like it was somewhere he belonged, somewhere Virgil fitted in with being himself without needing to lie or fear for his life. It was something Virgil haven’t felt in years, starved for this warm and pure but feared and truly despised feelings. It was just so irrational and wrong, considering the only family he ever had was now long dead or wished him dead, love being nothing more than a way of making him open up and be vulnerable once again. Virgil couldn’t let open his heart yet again, just to let them tear it from him, stomp and jump all over crushing it mercilessly against the cold and disgusting floor, making Virgil have to kneel down and collect all of the shattered pieces of something that he once trusted them with.

Virgil wanted nothing but to forget about everything.

Forget about the endless competition and endless hours of studying.

Forget about the violin and school.

Forget about his parents.

Forget about all this time he was forced to fend for himself, alone in this cruel world.

Forget about Granny.

Forget about his work.

Forget about the abuse.

Forget about Shon.

But the most Virgil wanted to forget was how to breathe. How to function. How to live.

Virgil just wanted to forget he even existed.

To forget the feeling of being alone, useless, unwanted, disgustING, WORTHLESS, DESPICABLE, WRETCHED, MISERABLE, TO FORGET HOW AWFUL HE FELT WITH HIMSELF EVERY MORNING HE WOKE UP AND WAS STILL ALIVE.

Virgil wanted to forget everything.

Not because it was painful.

No.

The pain was actually something that reminded him that he was still alive and failed miserably.

Virgil wanted to forget because he was just tired of everything.

Virgil just wanted to go to sleep… and… never wake up again.

He was so tired.

So. So. Tired.

But…

The more time Virgil spent with the Sanders, the more…

The more he realized he really missed that.

He missed being cared for. Missed how it feels to being loved by someone. Missed what it meant to have a family.

He missed every single thing.

The waking up every morning by 7 o’clock with a kiss on his forehead, announcing him he managed to live yet another day and to welcome him to a breakfast. To sit at the table and just chit-chat about what things he planned on doing or not doing, eating the delicious meal one of them would prepare. Missed sitting around and goofing, playing games and watching movies jauntily. To help with the cleaning or the homework or any other thing or task. To be able to hug someone whenever he felt like he needed reassurance. Missed being able to feel something but the constant fear of being punished or used. How…

Virgil missed all of that, but…

He was scared.

So, so scared.

Scared of opening up to someone yet again.

Virgil feared being rejected or left behind once again.

One day Virgil had everything…

And now he had nothing.

Virgil feared if he only as much as left a creak in the doorway to his soul and heart, someone would just barge, bust in and mess him up.

Virgil wished he was already dead.

Oh, what he wouldn’t give to go back in time and just stay and let the man eventually, finally finish him off…

Or to maybe to go in a different direction the moment he left Shon…

Or to just take his own life by jumping off of that bridge he crossed while heading to where Patton had found him…

Or to let himself drown in that lake he crossed and fell into, struggling to remain on the surface and get back on the constantly crushing and cracking under his weight, thin, thin ice…

Or to just let that burglar from five years ago to shot him.

Virgil wished he was dead. He really did, but…

The more time he spent with the Sanders, the more uncertain he grew on what was that he actually wanted from everything, from everyone, from life, from himself.

Did he really want to die?

Did he want to have his family back?

Or…

Did he want the Sanders to be his new family?

Virgil couldn’t tell, but…

The more hugs and kisses he got, the more snare comments and silly nicknames, the more ever so interesting and captivating conversations he held…

The more Virgil didn’t actually care about what was that he actually wanted anymore.

Virgil wouldn’t give a fuck.

Or he wished he didn’t.

But one thing he was sure of.

Virgil was happy to be able to come back and stay on the weekends with his family.

Family.

Yeah.

That sound about right.

Chapter fifteen of my story “The Death of a Violin” I’m writing on ao3, feel free to come by and check the full story out! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13950288?view_full_work=true

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #joan and talyn #sanders sides! alternate universe #fluff #angs #feeling #how do i even tag this #how do i even live #please help #seriously #help me

[sher-soc-the-famder]

Miraculously Their Own- Chapter 5

Not Every Card’s A Trump Part 4

Word Count:  4974

Pairings: Romantic Royaltiy, Platonic LAMP

Warnings: Cursing, Homophobia

Notes: PSYCHE, I said no update this Friday but it’s Saturday so! Ha! So excited for y’alls reaction to this chapter! Updates on Fridays and as always! A huge thanks to @wisepuma23, and to @milomeepit this time as well for looking this over!

Read on AO3

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Tag List: @notveryglittery @milomeepit @beach-fan @ab-artist @i-read-by-lamp @anxiously-romantic @confinesofpersonalknowledge @bangthekobrakid @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl @unknownsandersfan @quietwords-loudthoughts @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2  @mirandatheangel 

Logan breathed deeply, running a hand over the spine of his book. Over and over again, the simple, repetitive movement relaxing despite the noise in the room. He hadn’t opened it yet, the tension gripping his heart killing any of his usual enjoyment. Curled up in the corner, it felt almost like that first day when he had first meet Roman and Patton.

Not that it helped the fear and guilt that took root in his brain and refused to leave. Logan closed his eyes, pressed down on the cover of his book until his fingers tingled. The Ugly Duckling. Appropriate if not entirely accurate. He wasn’t going to grow up and turn out to be a swan. He only had his intelligence going for him.

Something that most people didn’t want him to flaunt.

Nobody liked to be shown up by a child after all.

He thought of Roman, the man’s smile wide and laughter echoing, and Logan’s shoulders hiked an inch closer to his ears. He had been a fool. Of course no one wanted to be corrected and snapped at like that. Whatever Roman’s game was, it wasn’t love, no matter what he claimed.

Everyone was different only in how they wanted to care for themselves.

Logan had learned that already.

Which left Patton, who hadn’t even bothered to say the words. Perhaps as a teacher he knew better than to disrespect Logan’s intelligence? Patton cared, but only in the way that teachers always did. When it really came down to it, Patton would do what benefited his job and not Logan. Taking a day off didn’t fit that, but it wouldn’t be the first time an adult tried to placate him through small but meaningless gestures.

It didn’t matter.

Except-

Except it did.

Logan pulled his legs up and laid his forehead against the cover of his book. A small dark space scared him yet at the same time it brought comfort. Being enclosed meant he had done something wrong, and Logan knew exactly what it was this time. Despite the fact he had tried not to do it again. He had reminded himself over and over again.

Not to trust, not to hope.

Not to love, when they would never love him back.

Logan tried to steady his breathing, pressing his hands to his ears to block out the other children. He was so stupid. An immature child who never learned his lesson. The warmth Patton gave him meant nothing. The proud smiles of Roman meant nothing. They were going to get bored, or worse, angry, and leave like everyone else. Words and promises meant nothing.

Because Logan meant nothing.

But that hadn’t stopped him from falling in love with them anyways.

Logan bit back a sob. He wanted them to take him home. He wanted to eat more of Patton’s cookies and listen to Roman’s stories and- and- and-

His breath shuddered, and he tried to calm down. He needed to be ready for when Patton and Roman showed up for the day. If they showed up for the day. Logan gripped his book tighter as he reminded himself of that. It wasn’t a guarantee. The only thing that was guaranteed was that they were going to leave him one day.

He had to remember that.

Logan pried himself out of his ball and glanced at the door. No one yet. Good. He didn't want them to see him while he was weak. He had to make them want him, which meant being his best whenever they stopped by. Maybe if he started to curb his tongue, they'd want to actually adopt him. If he was good for once, maybe they'd take him home instead of just visiting.

Ms. Holland poked her head into the room, and scanned the room, her eyes landing on him. Logan stiffened. She winked at him, and he deduced that she was warning him that Patton and Roman had arrived. Thoughtful of her. He smiled weakly at her and she beamed back at him.

He tried to take a deep breath again, closing his eyes and letting the sounds of the other children wash over him.

"Oh! Are we taking a nap today? Golly, this ol' dad wouldn't object to it!"

Logan pried an eye open. He thought he was ready, or at least prepared to fake it, but the grin on Patton's face still hit him like a punch to the stomach. He dropped his book and scrambled to his feet, willing himself not to panic at the surprise that crossed Patton's face.

"I love you!" The words slipped from his throat before he could stop them and he swallowed hard. His eyes burned as they dropped to the floor. Now that they hung in the air he refused to take them back. It was his mistake; he had to live with it.

"It's true," he whispered, "I'm not lying. I really do."

Logan listened to the rustle of cloth in front of him, but even then couldn't being himself to look up. He didn't want to see the pity on Patton's face. Or worse, complete indifference. Logan blinked rapidly, telling himself that it didn't matter if Patton loved him, he was fine with the way-

"Logan, sweetie," Patton's voice broke through his thoughts, a soft and gentle call for his attention. "Would you look at me?"

Logan dragged his eyes over to Patton's crouched form, and breathed in sharply at the tears that glittered in Patton's own eyes. The man opened his arms and whispered, "Can I hug you?"

Logan didn't wait for him to have a chance to change his mind, diving forward and almost sobbing as Patton's arms closed around him. It was so warm and safe just like the man who held him. He shuddered, the whole experience almost overwhelming him as he clung to Patton as tight as he could.

"I love you too," Patton said, and Logan felt him nuzzle at his hair. The teacher's voice choked on his words, "So much kiddo. More than you'll ever know."

Logan nodded into his shoulder. He didn't want to move, wanted to stay there forever or at least as long as Patton would let him. It would be the perfect thing to remember them by when they left. A moment where Logan could almost believe that he was wanted.

He only hoped that it wouldn't turn sour after they left him behind.

He startled at the affronted sound that come from behind Patton, pulling away on instinct. Logan blinked at the glare that Roman sent him, hand on his hips.

"Excuse you," Roman sniffed, and Logan tried not to shrink in on himself. "Where is my love and hugs?!"

Logan felt his hand tighten on Patton's arm. Patton giggled, wrapping one arm around Logan again and gesturing to Roman with the other. Roman grinned a them both, bending down to sweep them both into a hug that squeezed at Logan's chest.

He couldn't breath, held between the two men. But he couldn't stop the way his lips twitched upwards either. He tangled his hands in both of their shirts, hiding his smile against Patton's chest.

"Much better!" Roman boomed, sliding back down along the wall into a tangle of limbs. He laughed, pressing a kiss to Patton's cheek as that other man giggled. "Family hug! One that Patton can't escape to take a picture of! HA!"

"Nooooo," Patton whined, squirming enough that Logan couldn't help the giggle that escaped his own lips. "Rooooooman, I need to reach my phone and take a picture! Preserve the memories! Start a new scrapbook with Logan in it!"

Logan felt his breath catch at that sentence. The idea that Patton would want to take enough pictures of him to start a book seemed too good to be true.

Roman tightened his grip on the two of them, his grin growing even wider.

"Never!" He declared, "I have captured you both and will now use you for my dastardly Evil King Plots. There is nothing you can do to escape me! Mwahahahaha, fear my power!"

"Did you-" Logan blinked, trying to tilt his head back to look to Roman's face from a better angle- "Did you really just say Mwahahaha out loud? You didn't even laugh. You said it!"

Roman pouted, "So my evil laugh needs a little work-"

"A lot of work," Logan said dryly, before clamping his mouth shut and biting down on the inside of his cheek. He was supposed to be controlling himself. He wanted them to like him, to want to take him home, not-

"Well in that case!" Roman said, cutting through Logan's thoughts as his fingers prodded at Logan's side. Logan's hands flew up to his face to smother the giggles that tried to slip through at the sensation.  "You'll just have to help me perfect it! If you're the expert, then surely you'll help me perfect my technique!"

Logan squirmed out from between them, but even that didn't let him escape Roman's relentless fingers. He couldn't breath from how hard he was giggling. He sworn for a moment that Patton watched them both with the softest eyes Logan had ever seen as Logan finally broke, shrieking with laughter as he shoved at Roman's hands.

"St-stop," he gasped out, and almost blinked from surprise at how fast Roman's hands withdrew from his body.

"I am victorious!" Roman crowed, flopping over onto Patton's lap. "I have slain my greatest foe with my wits and skill! Praise me!"

Patton ran his fingers through Roman's hair and Logan squashed the part of his mind that wondered what that would feel like if Patton did it to him. Patton twisted a patch of Roman’s hair. "Truly, oh Mighty King, none can stand against your greatness!"

"Does that mean a lot when his greatest foe is ten?" Logan asked dryly. He winced again as Roman gasped. The man pressed a hand against his own chest sitting up with affront lining every inch of his body.

"How dare!" Roman said. His eyes danced in the light of the room, and Logan inched closer just to get a better look at them. They were a bright green, almost as brilliant as the park grass. Logan wondered if they were close enough to his own that people would just assume that Roman was his father.

"I am-" Roman's voice carried throughout the room, and for the first time Logan didn't care of the other kids were staring. Roman spoke as if Logan was the only one there with him, as if the story he wove was for Logan alone- "a talented, frightening villain. Having a ten year old as my nemesis is a credit to him, and not an insult to myself."

Roman winked at him. Logan bit his lip briefly before throwing out, "Or you've just held reign for so long that people won't believe how weak you really are."

Roman gaped at him as Patton clapped lightly.

"Honey!" Roman whacked Patton's arm lightly, "You're supposed to be on my side"

"Oh! Right, golly I had forgotten, what am I again?" Patton flushed but his smile didn't waver. He propped his chin up on his hand watching them both as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

Logan hadn't taken the time to count them all but the freckles that dotted Patton's arms matched the ones on his own face. He had always thought that they made him look younger than he actually was. They were frivolous ridiculous things that made him even more ugly and childish. But if Patton could make them look nice-

No, Logan was going to be honest with himself.

If they made him look like he could be related to Patton, then they weren't so bad.

Logan pressed his leg against Roman's hoping that the man didn't comment on how Logan was steadily making his way closer to them again.

"The Evil Dragon," Logan prompted. "Though I believe that Roman sicced his subjects on you a couple weeks ago, so I assume you two had a falling out rather than having a steady relationship. I believe that you're no longer on working or speaking terms for that to happen-"

Roman whistled, "Someone's been analyzing his literature. Nothing gets past this brain here!"

Logan's head dipped under the weight of Roman's hand as the man ruffled his hair and every nerve ending along his scalp tingled. Logan pressed closer, chasing the warmth that their touch brought as he cleared his throat. He adjusted his glasses and glanced at Patton again.

The man beamed at him, hand clapped together in front of his mouth.

"Logan! Kiddo! Have you been analyzing the things that you read?" Logan didn't get why he sounded so giddy over the prospect. He nodded and winced with Roman as Patton squealed loudly. "So the Anne Frank that I saw you reading earlier-!"

Logan shifted in his spot, blinking as the action brushed his shoulder against Patton's. He wasn't sure when he had gotten that close.

"I mean, a little bit? I didn't exactly write a report about it. I didn't think..." he trailed off, playing with the ends of his sleeves.

"Oh sweetheart that's alright! Roman's my sun, a real delight-" Logan wrinkled his nose, and tugged on Patton's sleeve in protest of the pun. Patton giggled, catching his hand and twinning their fingers together- "But he prefers his movies and musicals to books."

"Lies!" Roman cried, leaning over and Logan found himself blinking back tears at how easily they encompassed him in their warmth. "I read plenty of books! Harry Potter is a classic!"

"Classics by definition have to be timeless," Logan said, "Meaning Harry Potter hasn't been out long enough to stand against the test of time and prove itself true classic or not. It's simple a popular book at the moment."

"Betrayed! I thought you'd be on my side about this!" Roman cried, flopping against him and Logan grunted. He shoved at Roman's back and was met with laughter. "Oh no, gravity's increasing on me!"

Patton's laughter startled him, but not enough to cut off the indignant-

"That's not how gravity works!"

"It really is! There's nothing I can do!" Roman adjusted and Logan blinked down at the lap full of the man he got. Roman narrowed his eyes.

"You have no idea what I'm quoting." It came out like an accusation and Logan shrugged.

"No?"

Roman's arms flailed wildly, "How could you not? Lilo and Stitch is a gift to mankind! A masterpiece! A true beauty! Cinema reaching perfection!"

Patton leaned over to stage whisper, "It's his favorite movie."

"Yeah," Logan said, eyeing Roman dubiously as the man pouted and crossed his arms. The weight against his legs wasn't that bad, warm and a little overwhelming in the same way that Patton's shoulder pressed against his was, but not bad. "I put that together."

"We are simply," Roman said, sniffing imperiously, "going to have to watch it together. This is non-negotiable. First family movie night! Lilo and Stitch!"

Logan's breath hitched again.

"Of course dear," Patton soothed, brushing the bangs from Roman's face. "That sounds like a marvelous idea. It might be a little alien to Logan, but I'm sure we can pull it off. First Family Movie Night. Then Logan gets to choose the next."

Logan narrowed his eyes at Patton. "There was a pun in there I can feel it."

Patton's grin turned a little bit cheeky. "I have no isle-da what you're talking about kiddo! I sea nothing wrong with what I said!"

Logan buried his face in his hands. "No more," he moaned, "Please, I can't take it. I don't even know what they're about."

He wanted to though. He leaned against Patton's body. He didn't want to move even as Roman grasped Patton's hand to press a kiss to his husband's palm. The touch looked so tender and loving, and Logan ached with how much he wanted to be a part of it. The two men stared at each other as if they were the only ones who mattered in the whole world.

Yet even in the middle of that, Patton squeeze the hand he still held. Logan let his eyes slip closed, breathing in time with Patton as he felt the man's chest move under his head.

He wanted to go home with them. He wanted it more than anything in the world.

To have this moment as long as he wanted it to last rather than cut off whenever they had to leave.

Logan eyes snapped open as Roman took his hand in between his own.

"What-?"

Roman squinted, running smooth thumbs over his palm. "You've got a long head line. Get wrapped up in that big head of yours a lot, bud?" Roman tilted his head to grin slyly at him and Logan was torn between awe and offence.

"You're a fortune teller?!" He blurted. Roman blinked at him before throwing his head back in laughter. His skull dug into the space between Logan's thigh and Patton's, an uncomfortable feeling that faded as Roman calmed down.

"No, no, that's not my job," Roman said smugly, "Try again bud. I have a friend who used to be one, though. She's taught me a couple of things."

"Oh!" Patton said. "You mean Rebecca?"

"The one and only!" Roman replied running his thumbs over Logan's palm again. "She used to be a fortune teller, so she'll still do a few tips for the rest of us at-"

Logan leaned in, "The rest of you at?"

"Oh no, bud," Roman reached up to flick his nose lightly and Logan went crossed eyed trying to follow the motion. "I'm not making it that easy for you. I hear Patton even gave you a hint."

Roman shot a glare at Patton who shrugged unapologetically.

"Helping kids learn is my job," Patton said.

Roman pouted again, "Oh I see who you're new favorite is! Our love falling apart after so many years of marriage! Woe is me, I say woe is meeeee. I dedicate my life to yours, and this is the thanks I get."

Patton leaned down and pressed a kiss to Roman's forehead. "Yup."

Logan giggled again, his face flushing when he couldn't cover the sound like he wanted to. Not without letting go of either of them. Patton would certainly notice if he did, and it would take time to untangle their fingers. Roman's thumbs had moved from exploring his palm to simply running circles along the back of his hand. He'd whine if Logan took his hand back and Logan didn't want to listen to that.

"Are you going to finish the reading?" Logan asked Roman curiously. Something flashed through Roman's eyes and he hummed.

"No, I don't think so," he said, tone childish.

"You can't do it," Logan accused and Roman narrowed his eyes.

"I can, too!"

"Prove it!" Logan tilted his chin up to match an expression that he had seen on Roman's face. "If you really can do it, prove it."

"You utter brat," Roman said, his tone too gleeful to mean it. His thumbs shifted to Logan's palm again, and he hummed in thought. "You have a long heart line, which means you're an analytical thinker, a grand wizard who puts others first. Well loved by the people."

Logan twitched his fingers. "That's not what it says, I'm not a wizard."

Roman flicked his palm light and glared at him, "Which of us has experience with this?"

"You, apparently," Logan said dryly.

"I mean, he's done mine!" Patton chirped.

"Oh I've done you many, many times," Roman said under his breath. Patton flushed a bright red with a squeak and whacked his arm with his free hand. Roman laughed, trying to roll away from the onslaught.

"What?" Logan asked as Roman settled against his side but Patton didn't let up, "What? What does that mean?"

Patton flushed even brighter and stuck a finger into his husbands face. "If you even think of explaining that, you're going to be done doing me."

Logan tugged on Roman's sleeve, widened his eyes as much as he could and whispered, "Roman, Roman, what does he mean? What are you talking about?"

Roman glanced wildly between the two of them, clearly stuck as to who to answer. Logan stuck out his bottom lip, and mentally grinned gleefully at the way Roman's mind seemed to visibly shut down. Patton's glare intensified and he muttered something about their couch under his breath that left Roman sputtering.

"So, how bout that heart line, bud!" Roman said, voice gaining an octave as he met Patton's eyes. "Which you clearly have and we're clearly going back to, yes!"

Logan scrunched his nose up. "I'll find out one day."

"You will!" Patton agreed cheerfully. Roman flinched at the tone. "Just not today!"

"I want it to be today though," Logan whined. "I want to know!"

"It's something for when you're older! Like next six months older sure but that's still six months away! And it's really not for younger ears." Patton coughed and glanced at the other kids racing around the room. Logan felt the tips of his ears turn bright red in embarrassment. He had forgotten all about the others.

"Fine," he muttered, and sunk down against the wall to sulk. If it meant that he could better grip both of their hands and be squashed between their warmth than that was for him to know. Patton smiled indulgently at him.

"Soon, kiddo," Patton said, and opened his mouth as if he was going to add to it before closing it again. A distant look entered his eyes as he looked away from Logan. "Soon," he repeated softly.

Roman squeezing Logan's hand caught his attention and the kid turned to look at him. Roman grinned brightly at him. "Really soon, bud. I think your heart line says it too."

"Does not. They don't say things like that, I know that much," Logan snapped. Roman snickered.

"It does say that you'll have a long life. That you're a rock in trying times that people will rely on. A gift Logan, really, that's what you are." Something about his tone made Patton turn to stare at his husband with heavy, thought filled eyes. Logan was tempted to know what it was that made Patton look that way, but Roman's hand squeezing his felt like a warning not to.

Logan nodded, something warm filling his chest as Roman's boisterous grin softened to smile lined with an emotion that Logan didn't know the name of.

"I don't know if I should believe you," Logan declared, mostly just for the offended look on Roman's face.

"Excuse you!" Roman gasped.

"Oh, he is most certainly excused, Mr. Sanders."

Logan stiffened at the voice, his spine going ramrod straight as he turned to meet Ms. Trumpbull's eyes.

Roman blinked as Trumpbull leveled a dark look in Logan's direction. He hadn't realized how close Logan had been sitting until the kid sat up and the warmth along his side fled with it. Fitting for the woman in front of them he guessed. Didn't mean Roman had to like it.

"Oh no," Roman said carefully, "He's fine. Just a little joking around, you know."

Trumpbull hummed, eyes raking over them all. The scrutiny made him fight the urge to straighten his worn jacket. It wasn't the best looking but it had served him well through the years, on top of being a wedding gift from Ana Maria. The elegant script on the back quoting Chicago make it worth all that more in Roman's opinion.

"If you say so, Mr. Sanders," she said. Something about the way she said it make his hackles rise, and Roman straightened, (that is to say he sat up, no one could truly straighten him, ha gay joke!) leaning forward to help block her view of Logan.

"I really do," he said, leveling his eyes with hers.

Her eye twitched just briefly, and, god, Roman wished it had been any of the other matrons today. Even the ever strict Ms. Wilson was better than the woman in front of him.

Trumpbull broke the stare and turned to look at Patton instead.

"And the other Mr. Sanders as well," she greeted, "Are you perhaps thinking of a joint adoption? It's not all that often these days we get brothers coming in to look at the kids."

Ice raced down Roman's spine. His confident stance faltered and he tried to ignore the questioning glance that Logan shot him.

Patton's smile turned just that littlest bit sharp and any other time Roman would have wondered when he could slam his husband against the wall. Now the thought made him shrink a little more inside of himself.

"Oh no, we're not brothers," Patton corrected with the same ease he had corrected so many others.

"Then cousins?" Trumpbull pushed, "I really would like to speak to the missus-"

"I think you have misunderstood me," Patton steamrolled over her, and the look in his eyes was the same one that Roman had seen last time someone purposely misgendered Ana Marie. "Roman is my husband. We have been married for six wonderfully gay years. Is there a problem that you need to speak with us about? Ma'am?"

Trumpbull's face twitched again, and settled into a scowl. The silence of the room pressed down on Roman's chest, and even after all these years, the ring on his finger felt a little too much like he had been caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yes," she said, eyes as steely as her voice, "I believe there is. Logan. Logan come here."

Roman felt his grip spasm on Logan's had as the kids stood up slowly. Logan's grip tightened in return and it took all of Roman's admittedly not great self-control not to snatch Logan back from the woman. He could have sworn that Logan's hand shook right before it let go, trailing down his palm in clear reluctance.

"Logan!" Trumpbull snapped, "Here. Now."

Logan tripped over his feet hurrying to the woman's side and Roman scowled.

"Hey now, there's no reason to yell-" he started, only to flinch back as she turned her gaze on him. The familiar judgement choked his words and he blindly reached for Patton's hand. His husband linked their fingers, drawing Trumpbull's gaze back to him like the goddamn Knight he was.

"I will not have your- your- your type here," she snarled, hand landing on Logan's head. Roman felt his own eyes drop at the words, his stomach heaving with nausea. Patton's hand squeezed his, silver rings clinking together at the action. "That is my problem."

"I'm afraid that I don't know what you mean," Patton said steadily, sickly sweet. "What exactly is our type? Is it my teaching degree? Surely one of your own teachers would have taught you respect."

The silence rang in Roman's ears, and he wanted to take pride in the way that Trumpbull's face rapidly grew a crimson that warmed of an explosion.

She took several deep breaths, before hissing. Her hand pressed down on Logan even more, the possessive gesture seeming to bow his back. "It is my job to see these children to safe and loving homes. I don't even need to see your files to know that you are not fit to raise anyone. The state should be ashamed you have a license at all. If that principle has any respect he'll have you out as soon as he knows."

"She, actually," Patton corrected, probably a little too gleefully, and Roman felt his fingers go numb from how tight he gripped Patton's hand. "Ms. Turner is a wonderfully responsible woman who employs the best that she can."

Trumpbull sniffed, "Well, we here have better sense. Logan may be a handful, troublesome child, but he can be fixed. You, however, cannot. I would suggest prayer and therapy for your sake, but I can see that it is too late for you already. May Heaven have mercy on souls."

"Why, thank you," Patton shot back, aggressively, "I'm sure it will."

Roman could hear the woman's teeth grind from where he sat. "I think," she said, “That you gentlemen should take your leave. Now.”

Patton scowled. “I don’t believe that you-” “Gentlemen, I will call the police on you,” she snarled.

Roman tugged on Patton’s arm. “Pat, let’s just go. We can come back later.”

Patton stood up, even if his glare didn’t waver. It did stumble for a brief moment, as Patton glanced at Logan. The brilliant, wonderful man bent down and whispered, “We’ll see you soon, kiddo.”

Roman trailed after him as Patton stormed towards the door. He didn’t think much of the low, “Stay here,” that he heard Trumpbull say until heavy footsteps started up behind them. The tension in his shoulders skyrocketed, pace picking up so that he was equal with Patton.

“Mr. Sanders,” Trumpbull said once they had finally exited the building. She waited until they both turned around before letting a sick grin cross her face. “I hope that you realize you will not be welcomed back.” Patton’s head snapped up and a snarl crossed his face as the woman studied her nails. “We have to keep the children safe you see. Even if you do get back into the building, I’ll see to it myself. You’re never going to see young Logan again.”

“But- wait-!” Roman shouted, taking a step forward only to stumble back as the door slammed in his face.

He whirled to face Patton. His husbands face was rapidly losing color as what the woman had said sank in. “No,” Patton whispered in horror. “Please, no.”

#Sanders sides #Adoption AU #MTO #Royality #Logan Sanders #roman sanders #Patton sanders #Platonic logince #platonic logicality #homophobia #I did say somewhere the Trump in Trumpbull would be showing up #:D!