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aces-and-angels · 1 year

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final thoughts on the ilw finale: lincoln edition (ch 23 spoilers below) @itlivesproject

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Put some respect on his newly issued government name y’all- it’s time to get into the magnificent, the wonderful, the man touched by the Power himself- ✨Lincoln Aquino✨

Having Lincoln be my final deep dive puts him in a unique position. By now, I’ve shared my thoughts on each ending Rowan can have with their LI (Blood/Mixed/Shadow). My fear is that if I were to do the same format with Linc, I’d run the risk of sounding redundant. The solution? I’m taking Ro out of the equation- just for a little while- so I can focus on Lincoln’s story.

Having a connection/trauma related to the Power is not unique to Lincoln’s character. However, apart from Rowan, his ties to it are the strongest.

Childhood trauma is a bitch. And so is Matthias

For Lincoln, the Power is isolating. What was supposed to bring him and his father closer together only drives a wedge between them. His abilities separated him from a ‘normal’ lifestyle. It’s not explicitly shown, but I’d imagine Lincoln constantly needing to come up with excuses as to why he’d miss so much school as a child. “I was out sick” is much easier to digest than “I was rendered unconscious from yet another ritual my dad made me perform in the woods.” His struggles were ones that he couldn’t necessarily go out and seek help for. Not even from his closest friend, Abel.

Abel: And now I’m just finding out you’ve had powers this whole time? But I guess it’s no big deal for you, just another secret to add to the pile.

While it is minor, this line hints at a distance between Abel and Lincoln that has been present for years- far before their falling out after their senior prank. I’d like to think that Lincoln chose to keep Abel out of the loop to maintain something pure in his life. But hiding something of that magnitude from his best friend couldn’t have been easy. My point is that from a very early age, Lincoln had to learn to cope with his connection to the Power on his own. At 19, after his mother’s death, he leaves the McQuoid household entirely. Isolation had turned into Lincoln’s greatest weapon. One he wielded against the harsh world around him.

Rowan: You don’t have to be alone all the time, you know. It is okay to let people in and have friends. Relationships.

Lincoln: Maybe.

Rowan: Maybe? Why maybe?

Lincoln: Because the people you love today will end up breaking you tomorrow. It’s better to avoid it all in the first place than to set yourself up to fail.

---

Lincoln: I... shouldn’t have kissed you.

Rowan: Why not?

Lincoln: Because, Rowan, you deserve so much more than me. I’m a screw up at the best of times, and you... you’re special. You shouldn’t have to put up with that, and I don’t expect you to.

After consistently being told his wants/needs don’t matter, Lincoln starts to believe it himself. Being alone meant that no one could hurt him. He’d never have to disappoint anyone for not being enough again. That way of life kept him safe from pain he was all too familiar with. Then came Rowan.

It is both wonderful and terrifying for Lincoln to cross paths with someone like them. Someone so similar. Someone that gets him to do the one thing he hasn’t done in years: open up. Initially, it’s Rowan’s connection to the Power that loosens Lincoln’s tongue. He reveals more about himself to Ro, who he’s known for less than a day, than he has in years with anyone else. There is a certain ease one feels when sharing things with others who truly understand; a relief of finally being seen and heard by someone else. Bit by bit, Lincoln’s defenses crumble the closer he gets to Rowan. Their affections are understandably met with his resistance. But eventually, he lets them into his heart completely. And what that does goes far beyond restoring his faith in others. This is best seen in his final nerve test aka the nightmare sequence:

Lincoln: No. I’m not going to kill myself to try to make you love me for who I am... I want to be me. The tattoo artist who just wants to live a normal life with people I care about doing mundane things like staying up late watching TV. That’s who I am and there’s nothing wrong with that... I don’t need anyone’s approval to be myself.

Matthias left Lincoln feeling worthless. But Rowan? Rowan made him feel worthwhile.

---

Despite Lincoln’s insecurities, he is a strong, grounding presence for Rowan right from the start. Selfless, despite his tendency to avoid strangers. Let’s go all the way back to the beginning:

During times of instability (most likely Power-induced), it’s Lincoln that gets Ro to regain control over their body. With him, they are able to make sense of something so foreign yet so intrinsic to their being. With him, Rowan realizes that the Power doesn’t always have to be violent and destructive. It can be warm and calming. Beautiful, even. And with time, Lincoln sees Ro as the Power’s most perfect creation. You can argue that Matthias does these things as well- there’s a whole chapter dedicated to him doing just that. But my man Linc here is saying perfect with his whole chest. He really means that shit and there’s the added bonus of him never having the thought to kill Rowan for more power. So... yeah. #teamlincoln lmao. In all seriousness, Lincoln’s love for Rowan is healthier and far more sustainable than whatever romance Ro could have with Grandpa Matty.

Regardless of route, Lincoln makes a deliberate choice to remove himself entirely from the Power. That means leaving Westchester for his tattoo shop in Vegas, dissolving Matthias’ assets, donating what he can to charity, and relinquishing the McQuoid name. Finally making good on what he thought would be his final words to Matthias:

Lincoln: I don’t need you or your help to make something of myself. I’m gonna go out there, and I’m gonna be just fine, and it won’t have anything to do with you.

Y’all already know Rowan’s journey with the Power can end one of three ways. I’ll be honest gang, even as I’m typing out this sentence, I’m still unsure of how I want their story to conclude.

Shadow:

Lincoln: No, I would choose to love you again, and again and again, even if it’s just for a month or a week or a day. Of course I wish we could’ve had years together. But a lifetime spent missing you is better than a lifetime where I didn’t love you at all.

In his final scene, we see Lincoln alone in the woods, grieving. Yet he does not meet his heartache with malice. Instead, we see a sort of gratitude for the pain he feels. Pain that he desperately tried to avoid for much of his adulthood. It’s an impossible mission, really. Trying not to get hurt. It left Lincoln with nothing more than a bunch of hollow relationships. Nothing real. But Rowan gives him the greatest gift of all- a real, true love. A love worth hurting for. In return, Lincoln gives something back to the world that it had long lost: his heart. As wounded as it may be, it’s finally open to letting others back in. He will never truly be alone again- and that’s all thanks to Rowan.

Man, I love the shadow ending😭

Mixed:

Simply based off the epilogue scenes, I feel that Lincoln has the hardest time coping with a long-distance relationship. Touch is intrinsic to his character. His abilities aside, there are several moments in ILW where Rowan taking Lincoln’s hand in theirs provides him comfort. Their physical presence, no matter how small, soothes Linc. That being said, Rowan being able to share their feelings for him through the Power? Magnificent. Brilliant. 10/10.

I’ve expressed my preference for a mixed route multiple times. Knowing that it wasn’t originally one of the available outcomes makes me want to hold onto it a bit tighter lmaoo

Blood:

Lincoln: There’s too much painful history there. It’s hard enough finding a way to move forward when we’re not constantly being reminded of the things we’re trying so hard to leave behind.

No one is coming out of ILW completely unscathed. It’s all about that sustained trauma, babyyy

While there is no ‘right’ ending, the majority of players chose the Blood route (according to the tumblr polls) as their end. Maybe ILW’s official survey will have different results- who knows? I myself see the appeal of it, however it is hard for me to justify this end with the majority of my playthroughs. In my opinion, Ro’s connection to the Power is too great to cut off completely. But it is in the spirit of the Blood ending to leave the past behind. Starting over. Both Linc and Ro take on new identities and are ready to forge their own path together.

---

Every ending (sans the betrayal routes lol) leaves Lincoln better off than when we first meet him- ready to embrace the world around him rather than hide from it. Where do I see his journey ending with Rowan? The selfish part of me wants them to be together, but I can’t help but feel a pull towards the shadow ending. It’s just that bitch. In conclusion, I’m still torn lmaoo. I’d love to read how everyone else’s endings went with Linc if your MC romanced him, so feel free to share your journeys below! Maybe it’ll help me finally make up my mind 😂

Other thoughts:

getting linc into trashy reality tv?? sign me tf up

i will never be mad at having more moss content

these two are artists (iykyk)

lincoln’s heart being ro’s greatest treasure 😭😭 someone hold me

seeing linc express love so freely is just... so... beautiful???

no stats for this post bc clearly i can’t make up my dang mind but i will end with the starry night end card since i haven’t used that one yet

to all the writers, artists, readers, and general enthusiasts- thank you ♥

#ilw spoilers #ilw #it lives within #playchoices #choices #ilitw #ilb #it lives in the woods #it lives beneath #it lives anthology #it lives series #lincoln x mc #lincoln aquino #lincoln mcquoid #happy finale weekend😎😎

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eyeofthedrgn · 3 years

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A Heavy Battle Symphony Chapter 5

Catch up here >> AHBS Masterlist

TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut

Chapter 5 - With You

When things go wrong I pretend that the past isn't real

Now I'm trapped in this memory

And I'm left in the wake of the mistake, slow to react

So even though you're close to me

You're still so distant and I can't bring you back

"What the fuck is that?"

He was sitting at the breakfast table doing homework, after he had completed his chores when his aunt and Perrington had walked through the front door. Wearing one of the only t-shirts he owned and a pair of shorts, he sighed before looking up at his aunt.

"What is what?" he said, running his hand through his hair. Though, he knew what she was talking about. Why hadn't he kept his hoodie on? Not that that would have helped, the drawings covered his hand too.

She grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled on it. Lorcan let out a hiss. "What bullshit is all over your cast! That cost good money-" she froze. Understanding dawned on her face, eyebrows shooting up. "Oh. Did you find some people to pity you?" Her words dripped with poison. "You know you're worthless, right? No one could ever love you. You are a bastard born, half breed. Your own mother deserted you!"

"She died!" Lorcan yelled. That was too far and she knew it, but she didn’t stop there.

"She killed herself to get away from you, you ugly half-breed."

Lorcan never wanted to believe that. Never. Not that he was an ugly biracial kid, but that his mother killed herself. Why would she want to kill herself when she had him? Or maybe it was his fault. Maybe he drove her crazy enough to take her own life. Maybe...

Maeve just laughed smugly, cutting off Lorcan’s thoughts as she walked down the hall to her room and came back with a bottle of what looked like alcohol and a towel.

"Arm." He reluctantly held his casted arm out to her as she sat in the chair next to him. She started cleaning the metallic ink away. She wasn't gentle. He clenched his jaw and focused on his breathing.

Lorcan had to admit it was a good plan to get the people who were starting to befriend him, to turn their backs instead. Yet another way to break him down. They weren’t friends anyway, why would they care that their mark on him was gone.

The whole time Maeve was scrubbing his arm, Lorcan couldn't stop thinking about how he wasn't good enough for anyone. Not for his mother and definitely not Rowan. He didn't deserve the sparkle that twinkled in those green eyes when they looked at him. Why would Rowan even look at him like that? He was an ugly, bastard born half-breed after all. Too skinny, awkwardly tall, dark olive skin, black eyes.

His vision was blurry from the tears he wouldn't let fall. He couldn't let his aunt see his weakness.

"There," Maeve cooed. "All better." She looked at him with a sick sense of joviality. "Now go to your room." The way Maeve's voice went from saccharin to steel nearly gave Lorcan whiplash. He quickly went to his room after gathering his things and gently closed the door.

Lorcan closed his eyes and tears leaked out. He wiped them away. Why was he so emotional about this? He never got this emotional about anything. Fuck, he hated Orynth.

His cast was a mess now. Some of the designs were smeared beyond recognition, others completely gone. Maeve destroyed it, like she destroys everything. Elide's trees, gone. Rowan's line doodle was smudged into a big blob, but the 'Ro' of Rowan was still faintly visible. Somehow, that made Lorcan feel worse. Why were there so many emotions he didn’t know the names of when Rowan flitted through his mind?

He dug into his sleeping bag, grabbed his journal, pulled a razor blade out of the spine, and went to the bathroom with his pajamas and razor blade. Lorcan's thoughts were a jumble of negativity, he couldn't sort through them so he just pressed the blade to his forearm, dragging through other scars, deeper than he usually did. He grit his teeth through the pain. Lorcan deserved it. He was an unloved, unwanted mixed race bastard. And he was way too fucking emotional.

After letting his blood drip in the sink until he started getting a little lightheaded, he cleaned himself up, and then changed. His torso still covered in an ever changing modern art painting. He thought that maybe Jackson Pollock would be proud to have a painting that looked like his bruises. Lorcan just huffed a laugh at his sick humor.

Back in his room, he wrote in his journal, recording the worst beating of his life and the following days. Including how stupid he was today, to let Elide's smile cause him such grief once his aunt saw the product of his stupidity.

++++

"Mom, he has a cast!" Rowan was so exasperated. He threw his arms in the air.

Rowan's mom knew he was concerned. He had told her about the bruises he saw on the black haired boy's neck.

After dinner, Rowan went up to his room, pulled out his laptop and decided to video call with the group. He just wanted to think of something besides the pain that filled those onyx eyes that were staring at him throughout lunch.

His friend's only helped a little. They were mostly talking about their homework. Elide read one of her new stories for creative writing. Rowan wanted to ask her if she had read any of Lorcan's work, but he didn't feel comfortable asking in front of everyone. So, he didn't.

---

Lorcan woke up at 5am. He checked the gauze on his arm, it hurt. There was blood staining the gauze. I guess that's what happens when you cut deeper. After redoing his bandage and making sure his blade was secured in the spine of his journal, he threw said journal in his newly repaired backpack that broke last night after he was trying to put his schoolwork away. For some reason, he just didn't feel like his journal was safe being left in the apartment anymore.

After dressing and making breakfast for the despicable adults of the house, Lorcan left for school. He left earlier than usual and decided to walk through the park that was between the apartment and the school. Lorcan's hood was down, his man bun was messy, some of his wispy hairs falling in his face, his hands were stuffed in his hoodie pocket. The rain puddles he walked through leaked into his shoes and soaked into the frayed hem of his jeans. Despite having wet feet, it was a nice morning. Except for the undefinable tightness in his chest and the pain in his arm that he tried to ignore.

Lorcan walked one of the winding paths beneath the trees and noticed that some of the greens matched the color of Rowan's eyes. He shouldn't be thinking of those types of things. Never having had a crush before, he didn't understand what and why he kept comparing things back to Rowan or how his stomach would flip when the other boy flitted through his thoughts.

From behind, he heard laughter from multiple people. He switched paths and started walking faster. The laughter was familiar and he had a feeling it was Elide's and Rowan's friend group. Today, he would do his best to avoid them.

++++

Rowan noticed Lorcan ahead of them on the path and then saw him veer away and speed up. When they were about to pass the way Lorcan had gone, he made a decision.

"Hey, I'll meet you all at school." He didn't wait for an answer or reply to the questioning. They knew he was crushing on the new kid.

Rowan was on a mission. Half jogging to catch up with the long strides of his crush, he finally caught up with him.

"Lorcan!"

Gods above, he started going faster.

"Lorcan, please." He stopped suddenly and Rowan jogged a couple paces past him and turned around.

Lorcan's expression was hard, his eyes blank. They were nothing like they had been yesterday when they were almost hopeful. Today they were dull and vacant, it gave Rowan an uneasy feeling.

"Um, hi. I just thought-"

"You thought wrong." And started his swift pace past Rowan.

"But-" Rowan sighed and just did his best to keep up with Lorcan.

He really needed to work on his cardio, he was a bit winded when they got to the school. Lorcan disappeared into the throng of high schoolers. "Fuck," breathed Rowan.

All Rowan wanted was to be friendly with Lorcan. He was sad and frustrated when someone touched his shoulder.

"I'm sure he'll come around someday," Elide said with a knowing look.

"I just.." Rowan didn't know what he was saying.

"I know. Let's go to class." Elide looped her arm through his and they set off for History of Erilea.

---

Lorcan was sent to the library again for his P.E. class. He sat in a secluded corner, hoping Elide wouldn't find him. She didn't. Thank Hellas.

Pulling out his journal, he decided to write about Rowan, about how he didn't deserve a friend in Rowan. It was strange for him to use this journal for something other than an abuse record. Although, maybe this was a different sort of torture, a personal one. He couldn't have friends, and he definitely couldn't have anything more. They would likely be moving in a month or two anyway.

But Lorcan kept going back to how it felt when Rowan had touched his hand. There were butterflies in his stomach every time he thought about it. Did he really have a crush on this guy? For his whole life, he has done his best to keep the world out and now, somehow his walls were cracking. He was desperately trying to fill those cracks back in, he couldn't break now. He wouldn’t let his walls fall for some pretty boy.

The bell rang for lunch, he was starving, but he wanted to be alone in the quiet. He decided to eat quickly and then come back.

That didn't work out so well.

After sitting at the empty table in the corner and shoving food in his face, the silver haired boy sat across from him. He didn't say anything, he just ate. Lorcan just stared at him, food half raised to his mouth. Realizing Rowan wasn't going to say anything, he continued to eat.

His food was gone and now he didn't really want to go back to the library. Somehow it was comfortable sitting here with Rowan, so he just got out some of his homework instead. It really would be best to go back to the library.

++++

Yes! It was working!

Elide had suggested to Rowan that maybe he should sit with Lorcan at lunch and just be quiet. So he did and Lorcan didn't snap or run away. It was progress!

Rowan felt elated at this, especially when it looked like Lorcan was going to leave, then decided to stay. He did his best to hide his smile. But gods above, he was excited. He texted Elide.

RoRo: it's working!

Ellie: That's because I'm amazing! Haha!

RoRo: omg elide

Ellie: I'm happy it's working, Rowan. I really am. :)

Rowan looked up to see Lorcan lost in thought with his pencil down his cast. It probably itched like crazy. But then, he saw it or lack of it. All the doodle marks were nearly gone. Tears pricked his eyes, and his throat tightened. Was yesterday some sort of joke? Gods, he was stupid.

RoRo: he cleaned his cast off…

Ellie: What? Seriously?

He couldn't sit there anymore. Rowan angrily grabbed his stuff and went back to his usual table with his friends. He just hoped that Lorcan didn't see the tears that fell down his cheeks. It was embarrassing how emotional he could be sometimes.

Fen saw Rowan coming over, he was wiping his face, "You're sure he cleaned his cast off? I didn't even know you could do that without compromising its durability."

"There's smudged Sharpie over the part I could see," he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Everyone frowned. Aelin threw her arms around him. "He's just an asshole."

---

Lorcan had wondered how long it would take for Rowan to get fed up with him and leave. But he wasn't expecting to see him crying as he left.

He felt like shit. Looking at the exposed cast, he saw Rowan's faded and smudged doodle. Fucking Hellas. This day has turned to complete and utter shit and needed to end.

Thankfully, the rest of the day went by quickly. Elide had ignored him in creative writing. Obviously, Rowan had told everyone. This was probably for the best anyway.

____

Thanks for reading! Let know you would like to be tagged.

@thenerdandfandoms @starlightorstarfire

#rowcan #rowan x lorcan #rowan whitethorn #rowcan fanfic #lorcan salvaterre #linkin park #heavy battle symphony #crackship #throne of glass

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years

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Plea for My New Self

Sanders sides Vampire College AU - it’s gay - it’s full of fun fluffy tropes - a bit o’ hurt/comfort - mostly fluff

Words: 5,267 Warnings: Food, Money Issues Characters: Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton, (Remus & Deceit mentioned) Ships: Prinxiety, Analogical, Eventual LAMPD/CALMD Universe: Plea for my New Self Genre: Fluff

Chapter 24: Attraction

Chapter 1 for New Readers - ffn mirror

After their very successful date, Roman and Virgil were laying together on the air mattress and holding hands while they barely watched the cast recording of Arcadia. Roman was very distracted, and with Virgil’s shield down he was also struggling to pay attention. Virgil hoped Patton was at their dorm still because there’s no way they wouldn’t get lost in the showers or buy 20 dogs or something while Virgil and Roman were caught up in the loop.

“You better speak up, angel, before Pat finds themselves getting lost in the 5 steps from their loft to the toilet,” Virgil said and ran his hand through Roman’s hair.

“What?” Roman asked, looking to Virgil.

“Exactly,” Virgil stated plainly, and then was distracted by Roman’s bright eyes. He shook his head to try to refocus. “You’re distracting everybody,” Virgil clarified.

“Sorry, there’s a lot on my mind,” Roman mumbled and Virgil ran his hand through Roman’s hair affectionately.

“I know, let’s get some of it out,” Virgil softly requested. “What’s on my Prince’s plate and how can we toss the entire thing?”

“You need not break my plate, Virgil,” Roman said and rolled his eyes at him.

“Just tell me, you cagey bitch, before I flip to the ceiling and take you with me,” Virgil threatened Roman, though they both knew it was empty by the hint of playfulness in his annoyance.

“Fine, the money thing is weird to me,” Roman said.

“Among other things, I’m sure. You’ve never been this distracted over it before, and didn’t mind spending it this afternoon,” Virgil said and brushed Roman’s knuckles with his thumb, sucked up by the feeling and losing his train of thought again. They sat in silence for a moment until Roman sighed.

“Yeah, among other things,” Roman replied finally.

“Listen, if you don’t want money you don’t have to take it. It’s just a resource you have now,” Virgil explained. “I’m not forcing it on you, I just see problems money can fix and offer it,” Virgil tried to console him.

“I want to be as blase about it as you but it’s not how I was raised,” Roman shrugged slightly.

“Yeah, I know, capitalist brainwashing, human struggle, society, all that stuff,” Virgil said. Roman just looked at him oddly. “I give away money all the time, Roman, you’re not the first objector. If you feel gross, just spend as much on random charity as you do on yourself. D will tell you to back off if you’re spending too much,”

“So you would seriously pay my tuition? It would really help my parents out,” Roman asked softly.

“So it was big expenses that were bothering you? But of course, I'll pay for it. We can get you a fake part-time job to pay for it to avoid possible inquisitions,” Virgil tried to explain while Roman's mood tried to throw him off. “But if that’s not what you want, I won’t force it on you,” He accidentally repeated. It was hard to focus.

“Yeah,” Roman said oddly solemnly. “Remus has been complaining about not getting as much help as me since his schooling was cheaper. He texted that he needed new shoes and mom and dad wouldn’t buy them. I was hoping I could tell them to spend it on Remus instead of me, so he could get the things he needs. I’ve been feeling awful about getting more help than him. I know he’s a little asshole sometimes, but he was just acting out for attention. It’s like they’re trying to punish him for his grades not being good enough to get into university with me,”

“You can tell them that you’ll pay for yourself and send him a bunch of pre-loaded credit cards if you want,” Virgil offered. “If he wants, he can always transfer to university if he gets his grades up. That’s much easier if he’s not walking around in dead shoes. Hell, we can send him some fancy boots or something,” Virgil shrugged. “You do look great in boots,”

“Are you serious?” Roman asked and stared at Virgil intently.

“Entirely. Sending cash is a bad idea and bank transfers are tracked. Gift cards would let him buy most of the things he needs even if your asshole parents don’t help after you ask them to,” Virgil explained to him and ran his free hand along Roman’s arm assuringly.

“Hey!” Roman objected and glared at him.

“Well, you don’t paint the greatest picture of them, starshine,” Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman, but the intensity in Roman’s face didn’t drop. Virgil leaned forward to kiss Roman’s forehead. “I’m sorry I insulted your parents, love,” Virgil apologized.

“Maybe they aren’t the greatest, but it’s fucked up to insult somebody else’s parents, Virge,” Roman grunted and glowered at Virgil. At least Roman's weird mood wasn't throwing Virgil off anymore.

“I wouldn’t know,” Virgil said blithely and rolled his eyes.

“I could always insult Hecate, she’s like your mom or something, right?” Roman asked sarcastically.

“You insult Hecate and she may never give you a gift,” Virgil reprimanded him shortly, shooting him a small glare.

“I’m surprised you even believe that stuff,” Roman sighed in exasperation.

“Most born vampires do. We can feel something and we innately know what it is. I just know what I feel. I’m not insulting your beliefs,” Virgil grunted and pulled his hand back from Roman to cross his arms, but Roman gripped Virgil’s hand and didn’t let him withdraw.

“Fine, let’s call it even. You don’t get it and I don’t get it, but at least we get we shouldn’t insult each other for it. Deal?” Roman offered.

“Okay,” Virgil said and relaxed again. “It may not hurt to be more open to the idea if you want a gift so bad,” Virgil said.

“Yeah, sure, Virge, I’ll just abandon all my beliefs on the off chance it changes anything,” Roman said sardonically.

“I didn’t say abandon, just open. They’re not diametrically opposed,” Virgil clarified and held Roman’s face briefly. Roman just huffed. “You don’t have to, it just might help your odds if you decide you want to try for one. I can’t say I know how it works,” Roman stayed silent. It was fine if he didn’t want to discuss it. Virgil could understand where he was coming from, at least on this point. Virgil was thankful Roman was finally less distracted, but this weird conflicted feeling wasn’t much better. He’d rather go back to spacing out when he admired his lovely new boyfriend. Maybe he could change the subject and lift his mood.

“So, why did you pick today for your super date?” Virgil asked softly and stroked Roman’s face.

“Oh, it was just the first day off after I decided. I knew you’d be busy with Pat all Saturday,” Roman said. The feeling subsided slightly, which was nice.

“So, when did you decide?” Virgil asked and ran his hand gently along the back of Roman’s head.

“Friday night,” Roman responded, sounding a little dismissive.

“What made Friday night special? We just watched movies,” Virgil asked curiously, softly playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

“I, uh, it wasn’t so much about the day,” Roman stumbled slightly and looked away. Virgil looked to Roman with intrigue, but he didn’t explain further. Virgil pulled him in for a hug and stroked his back, feeling Roman’s mood.

“Okay,” Virgil breathed. He wasn’t sure if he should push him to move past this or just let it lie. He didn’t want to make Roman angry again. So, Virgil opted not to push it and hoped Roman would decide for him. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it. I guarantee I’ve done every stupid thing on the planet by now and it’s hard to faze me,” Virgil offered in solidarity.

“This is another problem you won’t understand,” Roman said, looked away, and squeezed his hand.

“A family thing?” Virgil couldn’t help but hope for clarification.

“No, it’s just something that you were born with that I wasn’t sure I wanted,” Roman sighed. Virgil stiffened. Fuck, did he regret it now?

“Shit, I’m sorry, Ro! I would take it back if-” Virgil started freaking out, he didn’t expect the conversation to go and felt like he was hit with a brick of guilt all at once.

“No, Virgil! Settle down! I’m still happy with being extra awesome!” Roman interjected and Virgil let out a big sigh. “God, you’re still harboring that? Let it go,” Roman moaned. “That physically hurt,”

“Sorry. You could still regret it down the line,” Virgil mumbled and tried to calm back down.

“You are the most pessimistic person on the planet,” Roman grumbled. “Look, I wasn’t sure I was willing to be in a non-monogamous relationship,” Roman finally admitted. Virgil looked at him in confusion.

“I know you just asked me out, but I’ll give you your space if you changed your mind,” Virgil offered, feeling morose and looking weakly to Roman, backing up slightly on the air mattress.

“I didn’t change my mind, stormcloud, seriously, settle down. I didn't mean to make you freak out. I barely knew you could," Roman said, looking confused.

“You're important to me," Virgil said quietly.

“I guess I'll take it as a compliment. I mean it. I'm happy with you, okay?" Roman said emphatically. Virgil nodded and exhaled slightly. “I just always thought I was a one guy kind of person. But I like both you and Patton. And it didn’t feel wrong when we all cuddled watching movies, and it didn’t feel wrong to go to sleep with the both of you either, even though we weren’t dating or whatever. You were sweet and focused on caring for them, but I didn’t feel ignored or unloved,” Roman explained softly and pulled Virgil back in to hold him. “I don’t know how I feel about your other boyfriends yet, but I don’t think the things I was worried about are genuine issues. And maybe I’m less monogamous than I thought, too, since I’d still say yes if Pat was interested,” Roman mumbled the last part. Virgil softened. He wished Roman would have talked to him about all this before, but maybe it was important for Roman to think about it alone. Either way he was immensely relieved.

“Thanks for telling me, starshine,” Virgil nestled into Roman, holding him on the air mattress. “You seemed okay with Deceit when he left last time,” Virgil said. “Are you warming up to him?”

“He’s certainly a dramatic bitch. He offered to teach me archery when we visited him at the estate, which is pretty cool of him,” Roman said, thankfully sounding interested in further interactions.

“So you could get along as friends?” Virgil asked, hoping they could like each other instead of continuing to clash.

“We could be cordial,” Roman offered, but Virgil felt something surprising from Roman.

“You like him a little, huh?” Virgil asked with a light chuckle.

“Just a little! After he stopped threatening me he got all affectionate and teasing instead of being an asshole,” Roman said a little defensively. “Kind of like you, but more dramatic and theatrical,”

“Ah, I can see how that maybe is something you’d be into,” Virgil laughed and Roman squeezed him hard. “I give, Princey, if we wrestle on the air mattress we’ll pop it,” Virgil conceded quickly. Roman released him and took his hand again. “So, did what Deceit said to you when he came to visit Patton have anything to do with your change in attitude towards him?” Virgil asked, and Roman’s heart rate spiked slightly, and he flushed.

“He said something sweet but immediately chased it by embarrassing me with too much information, so not really,” Roman said, sounding almost a little winded.

“That’s very on-brand for Deceit. What did he say?” Virgil asked with amusement.

“He, uh, compared real-life you to dream-you,” Roman coughed. Virgil rolled his eyes. That was extremely on-brand for Deceit.

“Sorry. He likes to make his gift everyone else’s curse. It’s kind of a hard one to have. I hope it was at least a kind comparison,” Virgil said with a sigh.

“Yes, it was a very glowing recommendation,” Roman sighed right back, a little bitterly. Virgil blushed when he remembered exactly what Roman was dreaming about.

“Wait, weren’t you dreaming about-” Virgil started.

“We can not talk about that, thanks,” Roman cut him off before he could say it.

“It was just a dream, Roman, I’m not-,” Virgil tried to offer in for solace.

“We could just not talk about it, thanks,” Roman said again, a little louder. Virgil shook his head and looked back to the laptop.

“Oh, crap, we talked through the rest of the cast recording,” Virgil muttered and sat up.

“Whatever, as long as I see it before Wednesday. I don’t really feel like restarting it this late,” Roman said and yawned lightly. “Any chance you’ll stay unshielded and sleep with me tonight?” Roman asked, looking hopeful.

“I don’t mind. But if I stay unshielded the whole night I might wake you and Pat up worrying or something,” Virgil warned him and pulled him close again, kissing his hair.

“I suppose that means you shouldn’t worry then,” Roman said snarkily. Virgil released him and huffed.

“That’s not how anxiety works,” Virgil responded bitterly.

“I still think you should talk to Emile,” Roman chided him.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Virgil replied impassively. He did want to ask him something.

“Cool,” Roman remarked and yawned again. “Play me something on the piano?”

“Sure, darling, any requests?” Virgil asked and pulled himself to his feet off the air mattress. Roman picked up the laptop and returned it to the charger as Virgil sat at his synth.

“Do you have anything you wrote that’s calm?” Roman asked as he grabbed the weighted blanket off Virgil’s bed to lay back down under.

“You’ve already heard one of them. I have a few. Are you looking for like mystical forest vibes or a rainy night?” Virgil asked, trying to narrow it down. Roman looked at him oddly for a moment.

“A rainy night?” He asked, sounding confused, and Virgil just nodded and started playing. The air mattress behind him shifted a few times until Roman settled in. “Come back to bed in two songs,” Roman murmured.

“Of course, sweet Prince,” Virgil cooed with a little chuckle.

—

Virgil had texted to Patton and Logan the next afternoon to invite them out for lunch. Roman had come back from his morning classes and tried to go eat more of that garbage campus pizza before Virgil convinced him otherwise. It would have been nice to see everybody. Especially give Patton the hug owed to them after last night’s emotional debacle waking them up. Roman and Virgil walked through the campus afternoon with their arms hooked to the pizza parlor nearby, planning to order ahead while Patton and Roman got there. Patton had to finish up a class and Virgil and Logan didn’t want them walking alone.

Roman was tapping the table impatiently with the two hot pizzas and garlic knots right in front of him, waiting to take a bite. He held Virgil’s hand under the table and tapped his foot.

“They’re almost here, I don’t think they’ll mind if you go ahead,” Virgil said and stroked his thumb over the back of Roman’s hand.

“That’s bad manners, Virgil,” Roman huffed and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. Virgil felt Patton enter the building and raised up his arm so Patton and Logan could pick them out in the lunch crowd. They thankfully were against a wall near the entrance so Virgil could handle it. Virgil was still a bit on edge, but it helped that Roman was here with him. It would help more when Patton and Logan sat down, probably. Patton rounded the corner and lit up when they saw Virgil, bounding over as carefully as possible. Patton pulled Virgil into a bear hug when they got to the table, yanking Virgil out the chair and Roman's hand. They clearly don't have the best handle on their strength yet, but Virgil thought it was funny.

“Virgil!” The exclaimed and rubbed noses with Virgil, which was a little surprising.

“Sorry again,” Virgil mumbled into their ear while they hugged him tightly.

“It’s okay, honey, I get it,” Patton said softly and rubbed his back. Virgil picked up Patton and gave them a little spin, and they giggled airily as Virgil set them down to eat.

Patton went over to Roman and gave him the same hug treatment with a wide smile. Logan walked over with a nod to Roman and sat on the other side of Virgil at the round table, giving Virgil a special smile that would have melted his heart if he had one. Logan reached out and squeezed Virgil’s hand before selecting a slice of pizza from the pie. Patton dropped excitedly into the free chair between Roman and Logan and eyed the pizza hungrily, probably trying to pick their first victim. Pizza. Whatever. Fish are friends, not food. It was loud in here. Virgil sat down and sipped his espresso and tried to shake all the sensory input from blasting his brain.

“Thank you for the lunch, Virgil,” Logan said, sounding upbeat. He placed the pizza slice on a small plate next to his Italian side salad and tucked into the salad first.

“Anytime, Logan,” Virgil smiled back.

“How much do I owe you Virge?” Patton asked, lifting up their large compartment wallet with a unicorn on it.

“You’ll never owe me, Pat,” Virgil said shook his head, holding up his hand.

“You’ve already got me a few times,” Patton refuted him with a frown.

“Money’s not a big deal to me. It’s an enormous deal to you,” Virgil said seriously. “It’s fine, I promise,” Virgil tried to give them a comforting smile.

“I don’t like owing you,” Patton pouted.

“Then, poof, you don’t owe me!” Virgil exclaimed with a flourish. “Just enjoy some pizza. If it still bothers you we can discuss it later, okay?” Virgil conceded. Patton nodded suspiciously and took a slice to enjoy. Their face cheered back up after the first bite though. Logan turned to Virgil and smiled again with a nod before returning to his salad.

Virgil sipped his espresso as his friends all ate in silence for a moment. Either it was really good, or they were all really hungry. Roman was quite literally stuffing his face with a garlic knot at the moment, which Virgil laughed at. Roman rolled his eyes at Virgil and shoved him with his shoulder. He finished off the knot and smiled, looking to the others and puffing up his chest with pride.

“Oh, Pat, Logan. I asked out Virge yesterday,” Roman said proudly as he reached for another slice of pizza.

“Aaah!" Patton shook their fists happily. “I knew you could do it, Ro!” Patton cheered and lifted their glass. Roman lifted his cup, and they clinked the cups together in celebration.

“I was under the impression you were already dating,” Logan said with a little confusion in his voice. Virgil laughed airily while Roman looked confused.

“No, we weren’t,” Virgil clarified. “I’m sorry, I suppose I should have specified that I already had a boyfriend off-campus, not that I was already dating my roommate. He goes by Deceit. I’ll make sure you meet the next time he visits,” Virgil said with a chuckle, shaking his head with amusement and sipping his drink again while he leaned forward on his arms.

“Why did everybody think we were already dating?” Roman groaned. Virgil gently shoved Roman with his shoulder, and Roman shot him a look. Virgil just shrugged and smirked at him.

“You two just gave off that vibe!” Patton said cheerily, reaching for another slice.

“We insulted each other constantly,” Roman objected, flipping his hand dismissively in the air before taking a bite of pizza.

“We still do, Princey,” Virgil added and laughed again, leaning back in his chair.

“I suppose this is what is called a polycule?” Logan asked, taking his knife and fork to his pizza. Patton smiled.

“Uh, Pat, is this what’s called a polycule?” Virgil asked Patton pointedly. Virgil had no clue.

“I think so, kiddo,” Patton nodded. “Though, I don’t know why you asked me?” Patton tilted their head in confusion.

“I’m a meme lord, not caught up on new vocab,” Virgil responded and flipped out his palm. “It seemed like something you’d know. You called me gender-fluid before I really found a word for what I am,” Virgil admitted with a little dismissive hand movement.

“Oh god, you’re a meme lord? I should have known. You send one every 3 texts,” Roman groaned. “We’re divorced,” Roman pouted facetiously and smirked as he went back to eating. Virgil laughed and enjoyed more espresso.

“So what’s a polycule?” Virgil asked and reached out to rub Roman’s shoulder affectionately.

“It’s a relationship network of non-monogamous partners that looks similar to a molecule when illustrated,” Logan clarified. Virgil smiled at him and leaned towards Logan.

“I guess you did some extracurricular research, then,” Virgil commented with a knowing smirk.

“I prefer to be well-versed in all things I do,” Logan said with a hint of pride.

“And it’s very attractive,” Virgil winked at Logan, who got a hint of pink as he ate. Virgil could feel Patton being flustered in a brief spike, and Roman looked up from his pizza in confusion.

‘Is everything alright, Pat?’ Virgil asked them mentally. Patton nodded quickly and went back to their pizza. Roman shot Virgil a glace, but Virgil just gave a small shrug in response. He’d have to ask Pat later. He hadn’t had a chance yet to teach Pat how to use the clan telepathy. Logan looked at Roman and Virgil oddly for a moment, but returned to his pizza after a moment.

“So did you pull off the date you described to me?” Patton asked, sounding like they were trying to sound disaffected but there was a distinct interest breaking through.

“I most certainly did,” Roman said proudly and smiled smugly.

“I thought this was barely a premeditated thing. You texted Patton about it?” Virgil asked with a raised eyebrow. Patton was incapacitated all Saturday, which meant Roman texted Patton while Virgil was out for the few hours with Logan.

“It’s not like Patton didn’t know I was considering it, and I wanted to talk to someone about it,” Roman said defensively and took another slice of pizza with a slight pout on his face.

“I hope one of you will teach me how to ballroom dance,” Patton said wistfully and leaned forward on their elbows, seeming to look at something in the distance.

“That could probably be arranged,” Virgil offered. Patton looked very eager at the prospect. Virgil wasn’t sure when Patton would have the time with their part-time job, but maybe Virgil could solve that if he could get Patton to be less weird about money.

“Which form of ballroom dancing are you referring to?” Logan asked curiously. “I can teach you to foxtrot,” He added off-handedly.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you and the foxtrot. We were talking about waltzing,” Virgil clarified, leaning back on one arm while he held his drink in the other.

“There’s more than one kind of ballroom dancing?” Patton asked curiously, leaning towards Logan.

“Yes, there are many forms of ballroom dance, as well as regional variants,” Logan supplied.

“There’s a story behind the foxtrot, right?” Roman asked. “You’re not exactly Mr. Fun and sunshine,” Roman made a face and motioned towards Logan with his free hand.

“Be nice,” Virgil rolled his eyes and squeezed Roman’s shoulder.

“No, Roman is not inaccurate. I am not ‘Mr. Fun-and-Sunshine’, which is a ridiculous surname. My fathers taught me when I was a child,” Logan explained, and he looked surprisingly proud of that fact.

“That’s so cute!” Patton cooed. “Little baby Logan doing the foxtrot,” Patton said with a high voice and danced their fingers on the tabletop.

“I wonder if we could hunt down a flapper dress for that. I always think about the swaying tassels when I think of the foxtrot,” Virgil said nostalgically and shook his fingers as if they were the tassels.

“Can you foxtrot as well, Virgil?” Logan asked inquisitively, turning slightly towards Virgil.

“Not really, I just used to watch it,” Virgil replied dismissively. He used to play in a band that did the music for it, anyway. “I only know both kinds of waltz and the paso doble,” Virgil provided.

“Double pace?” Roman asked in confusion, raising his eyebrow and lowering his pizza slice.

“It’s a type of dance where you mimic traditional Spanish bullfighting,” Logan explained quickly. “I apologize, Virgil, but that is possibly more surprising than my knowledge of the foxtrot,” Logan said, sounding very puzzled.

“Would it help if I told you I usually dance the cape?” Virgil offered meekly with a light shrug.

“No, that does not alleviate any bafflement. It’s an uncommon dance that’s mostly competitive,” Logan said, looking to Virgil in confusion.

“Oh, Patton, we have to look this up,” Roman said, whipping out his smartphone. Patton scooted their chair over next to Roman and looked at his phone screen. It sounded like they pulled up a video of the dance and Virgil buried his face in his hands. That’s what he gets for being so forthcoming. Stupid tiny computers in everybody’s pockets making it so they could look up every dumb thing he said. He used to dance it with Deceit. While drunk at parties in France.

‘It was popular and was very drunk, okay!’ Virgil shot mentally to his two Brood, but they just broke out laughing at him as he glared at them sourly.

“You danced this with Deceit, right? I want to see! Do you still have the dress? Can I try on the dress!?” Patton’s words rushed together in excitement as they barraged Virgil with questions.

“No, I don’t still have the dress,” Virgil groaned and squeezed his knees under the table in frustration, fighting the urge to bash his head against the table.

“I can visualize Deceit dancing this very easily. I’m guessing it was his idea?” Roman asked, smirking at Virgil very knowingly. Knowing he was making Virgil even more embarrassed, anyway.

“If it involved parties, it was probably Deceit’s idea,” Virgil grumbled and rubbed his face.

“What a bizarre hobby for teenagers,” Logan mumbled. Roman barked in laughter, and Patton giggled. Virgil buried his face in his hands. If Deceit could feel this, he better know that it was his fucking fault.

“It takes two to paso doble, Virgil,” Roman said mockingly, Roman and Patton’s cheeks both tinted little pink with embarrassment and fidgeting slightly. Virgil groaned again as he peaked out between his fingers.

“Oh, you don’t have to be embarrassed, Virge! It’s such a passionate dance!” Patton consoled Virgil cheerily and shifted back in front of their plate for a garlic knot.

“Yes, and it requires skill. It may be an odd pastime for American teenagers, but it is not one without merit,” Logan added. Virgil sighed in relief and reached for Logan’s hand under the table to give it a brief squeeze of thanks. Roman rolled his eyes and returned to his pizza as well. There was another pause that let Virgil breathe through the rest of his embarrassment before conversation started again.

“Do you want to go do some sketch homework together tonight, Virge? I think It’d be fun to go sketch that swirly sculpture in front of the library,” Patton asked.

“Yeah, it would be interesting to draw,” Virgil nodded, remembering that weird sculpture and all the curves.

“Nerds,” Roman scoffed affectionately. Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman and pushed him slightly as Roman was glancing down at his phone. “Don’t you have to get to class soon, Pat?” Roman asked.

“Oh, shoot, I do! Don’t eat all the leftovers without me, Ro,” Patton said, quickly trying to shove the rest of their slice in their mouth.

“It was one time,” Roman drawled and Virgil chuckled at him. Patton quickly wiped their hands off on their napkin with their mouth full of the rest of their slice. They skipped around the table to hug Roman and Virgil goodbye. “I’ll walk you back, Pat. Get us a box, Virge,” Roman said and wiped off his hands.

“Very chivalrous, thank you,” Virgil smiled at Roman.

“I am a Prince, after all,” Roman said with a brief pose and leaned down to kiss Virgil on the cheek quickly before following Patton out of the restaurant.

“Would you like to study together while we wait for the lecture to start?” Logan offered a little shyly, shifting a bit in his seat. He was so cute.

“That sounds amazing, Logan. I’ll just have to swing by my dorm for my laptop,” Virgil said and smiled at Logan, happy to spend more time with him. “Let me go hunt down that box and we can head out,” Logan nodded with a brief smile, and Virgil got up to head to the counter for a pizza box to combine the pies and remaining knots in. The person at the counter handed one over quickly without him even asking for one. It must be pretty common here. Virgil returned to the table and leaned forward towards Logan and paused. Logan nodded and Virgil planted a kiss on Logan’s temple and started loading up the pizza. “I don’t suppose there will be any kissing in this study session?” Virgil asked smoothly and lifted his eyebrow. Logan turned red for a moment and his heart rate jumped and Virgil couldn’t help but grin at this nerd.

“With the subject material I don’t believe it will be much of a distraction,” Logan said quietly and nodded. “Are you sure?” He asked meekly.

“You are wonderful at kissing and your ex was a jerk,” Virgil said gently and loaded up the pizza. “Come on, let’s make review material interesting. I’ll kiss you every time you get a practice calculus question right,” Virgil winked.

“Virgil, then we’ll be kissing more than studying,” Logan smirked playfully, looking proud of himself.

“We’ll find a balance. There’s probably an equation for that. Balance time remaining with time kissing and time studying. That’s basic algebra, you can do it in your head,” Virgil smirked and closed up the box, holding out his hand for Logan who was wiping his hand on his napkin.

“2 to 1?” Logan asked, sounding very interested.

“I’m fine with any ratio,” Virgil shrugged and Logan took his hand to stand. Logan started walking out, looking up and counting with his fingers.

“Yes, I think we can find an optimal balance with the remaining time,” Logan said as he continued to count in his head. “But the equation may need adjusting after we begin studying,” Logan said cautiously.

“All the most enjoyable kinds of math do,” Virgil grinned impishly at Logan who had a fascinated smile as they headed out and back to the dorms.

#tsss #sanders sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #fanfiction #vampire!virgil #college au #dlamp/calmd #gay #gay af #analogical flirting #ayri writes #plea for my new self

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sign-from-god-complex · 5 years

Text

Understanding Pride

Summary: Logan was aware that his friends weren't exactly straight, but he didn't realise quite how out of his depth he was surrounding the topic of being gay until this exact moment.

Or, Logan learns something new about himself.

Pairing: Queerplatonic analogical, background royality

Warnings: Internalised aphobia (questionably), description of a panic attack, brief mention of dissociation.

A/N: An anon asked for queerplatonic lamp—which I will hopefully get around to writing soon cause that’s definitely the Good Shit—but hopefully this will tide you over until then! Also despite having an anxiety disorder, I’ve never had a panic attack before, so hopefully my description isn’t terrible (feel free to let me know if it is though).

AO3 Link

Logan came home to the dorm room that afternoon to complete chaos. There were poster boards lying on every single flat surface he could see, coloured card all over the floor and glitter seemed to be stuck to every bit of it all, and in the middle of this mess was his roommate and his two best friends.

Logan had been living with Roman for several months now, so he was used to coming home to find the dorm in various states of disarray—papers and props scattered across the desk or the entirety of Roman’s wardrobe taking residence on both of the beds—however, this was definitely a new one.

Patton had perked up at the sound of the door opening and had immediately started to bound his way over to Logan, almost slipping on card in the process.

"Logan! You're home!" Patton squealed, pulling Logan into a very glittery hug that he didn't return, "Great! Now you can help us!"

Pulling away from Patton's hug, Logan looked him up and down. Patton was wearing a shirt he'd likely designed himself, considering the myriad of what he felt in his bones must be puns covering it, a short, fluffy skirt and had a flag of some kind wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. Although Patton's usual attire was certainly... eccentric, this was even more so than that.

A quick glance at the room's other two occupants revealed that they were also wearing slightly unusual clothing. Roman was wearing a self-designed shirt similar to Patton's, though slightly more simple and organised, grey sweatpants and a different coloured flag wrapped around his shoulders; Virgil was wearing an oversized t-shirt with the words, "I'm too ace for this" on it, paired with a yellow beanie and a purple knee-length skirt.

Quite honestly, the fact that Virgil was wearing colour was perhaps the most alarming part of the situation.

"Help you with what?" he finally asked, having given up trying to guess what in the world they were doing.

Patton giggled. "With making stuff for Pride tomorrow, silly!"

He tugged Logan's hand until they were seated opposite the other two, a big poster board in between them with "I'm punsexual" written on it and subsequently also covered in glitter. He hated to admit it, but Logan was completely and utterly lost.

He squinted slightly. "Pride?"

The three of them stared at him in shock.

"Yeah, Logan..." Roman replied, tone indicating that Logan had missed something fairly obvious and important. He hated that tone. "Pride. You know? Happens once a year? All us gays get together and throw a big party-"

Patton cut in, "-And remember all the struggles it took us to get to this point-"

"-And spend far too much money on gay merch, cause capitalism," Virgil finished.

They all looked at him searchingly. Logan was aware that his friends weren't exactly straight—I mean, Roman and Patton were dating, so clearly they couldn't be straight—but he didn't realise quite how out of his depth he was surrounding the topic of being gay until this exact moment.

Logan had grown up in a fairly conservative town, and though he wouldn't say they were necessarily against people being gay, he certainly wouldn't have imagined anyone would feel safe enough to come out if they were. So, all in all, his upbringing was pretty straight (in more ways than one).

He cleared his throat. "Right, yes, well that does sound... vaguely familiar I suppose," he lied, "What would you want me to-"

"Logan?" Patton interrupted. He was looking at Logan with confused yet amused interest. It was a very uncharacteristic look for Patton, and it made Logan feel slightly uncomfortable. "Are you straight?"

The question caught Logan off guard and he answered before he could really think it through.

"I mean... yes?"

Patton screwed up his face slightly. "You don't sound sure."

That's ridiculous, of course he was sure. Wasn't he? Really, growing up the way he did, he never thought there was any kind of other option, and by the time he’d realised there was, he was already sure enough that he was straight that he didn't consider it. And anyway, he didn't like boys like that. He didn't really like girls like that either, but that was neither here nor there. He just hadn't found the right one yet, he was sure.

"I suppose I never really thought about it," he replied slowly, "I just kind of... assumed I was."

The other three exchanged looks. There seemed to be some sort of silent conversation going on between them that Logan couldn't quite understand. He was about to ask them to just talk to him already when Virgil turned to look at him.

"So how do you feel about boys?"

Logan blinked. "Uh, boys are... fine, I suppose."

"How do you feel about girls?"

Virgil was leaning towards him, the look on his face slightly more intense than Logan would have preferred. His brain felt like it was running 100 miles a minute and yet it wasn't going anywhere at all, stuck in a loop of quick-fire questions and feelings he didn't understand. This conversation was overwhelming at best and quite honestly, he wished they weren't having it.

"They're also fine, look-"

"Okay, but 'fine' like, 'oooh, damn, you're looking fine' or 'fine' as in the waiter just gave you Pepsi instead of Coke and you're trying to be polite?"

Logan stared at Roman, trying to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth.

"I- um," Logan stuttered, "The... uhh-"

Logan quite honestly felt ready to defenestrate himself to escape this conversation, and Patton clearly decided to take pity on him, as he turned to Logan and put a hand lightly on his upper arm. Though Logan wasn’t normally one to appreciate physical contact, Patton's hand was at least giving him something to focus on besides his swirling thoughts.

"Logan, you like researching stuff, right?" Patton asked, smiling softly, "Learning new things?"

Logan nodded, confident in an answer for the first time since this conversation began.

"Okay, so how about instead of bombarding you with questions—" Patton sent a semi-stern glare at the other two, who had the decency to look a little bit sheepish—"We give you a list of some terms and stuff and you can look it up yourself, yeah?"

Logan exhaled, letting out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. "I think that would be preferable, Patton, yes."

He stood up quickly, attempting to brush away the glitter that had stuck to every inch of his jeans the moment he sat down, before turning to grab his bag from by the door where he’d dropped it. He needed some space to think. As much as he appreciated his friends’ company, their emotions could certainly be… overpowering at times, and he needed a bit of distance from that.

“I’m going to the library,” he said, addressing his friends, their faces displaying their disappointment, “I have a paper I need to finish.”

That was a lie, of course. He’d finished all his coursework for the next 2 weeks and they all probably knew that, having been subjected to his insistent studying habits for the past couple of months. Roman especially—a surprisingly light sleeper, he’d been woken up several times by Logan muttering something or other about how bullshit magnetic fields were or how the reclassification of Pluto was one of the biggest mistakes of the scientific community (that one actually wasn’t class-related, Logan just had strong feelings about Pluto). To their credit though, none of them called him out on it, just nodding their heads and wishing him good luck with his study.

Just before pulling the door closed behind him, Logan turned around and said, “Text me that list. I’m sure I can make some time to check things out.”

He barely caught the wide grins of his friends before he shut the door and started his way over to the library.

//////////////////

Logan fell into a seat at his usual table, taking off his glasses for a moment before rubbing his hand over his face, sighing.

He liked the library. Libraries were one of the few places left in the world where you could truly just exist without anything being expected of you. You didn’t have to pay to stay, you weren’t forced into unwanted conversation, you could read or work or simply breathe without having to worry about being yelled at or infringing upon anybody else. Truly, it was one of the best places you could be.

Plus, it was quiet—a fact that Logan normally appreciated, but right now was proving to be more of a hindrance, as quite honestly, he was on the verge of screaming.

Self-reflection was not Logan’s style. He preferred not having to think too hard about his preferences, generally they proved to be less than important anyway and the effort that it took to try and untangle his emotions really wasn’t worth the payout. Clearly, though, this was something he’d been putting off for a long time, even if he hadn’t necessarily realised he had been. It was about time he thought about it.

Patton’s text had come through sometime on Logan’s walk over, so he grabbed out his phone to take a look.

Patton: Here’s the list, Lo! We added our own labels in there as a little coming out to you, since we realised we never did it officially!! 💖🧡💛💚💙💜

Sexuality stuff:

LGBTQIA+

Gay/Lesbian — you probably already know this one, but just in case :) (gay is also what Ro goes by! just cause it’s easier ~ Patton)

Bisexual/pansexual (this one’s mine!! I prefer pansexual over bisexual!!! ~ Patton)

Asexual (me ~ V)

(you should also look into the difference between a romantic orientation and a sexual orientation ~ V)

(oh and asexuality is a spectrum, so probably look into some of the other a-spec identities too, demisexuality, gray-asexuality, etc. ~ V)

(and probably look into sex repulsion too and all that. there’s a lot to this, sry. ~ V)

Aromantic (all the previous stuff applies to this too, aromanticism is a spectrum, romance-repulsion, all that ~ V)

Gender stuff:

Binary transgender (which I am! ~ Roman)

Cisgender

Nonbinary (which me and Virgil are!! ~ Patton) and gender neutral/nontraditional pronouns

(there are more specific nonbinary identities though ~ V)

Agender

Genderqueer

Genderfluid (Patton. she mostly uses he/him or she/her pronouns, depending on the day. me and Roman usually feel it out, or if we’re unsure, just ask. ~ V)

Bigender

Pangender

Demiboy/girl (me. usually he/him is fine. ill let you know when it’s not. ~ V)

We know this is a lot, so if you have any questions, we’re here!!!

Logan read through the list a couple of times, before pulling out his laptop and opening up google. This was going to take a while.

He started out with ‘gay/lesbian’. He was already fairly certain he knew what it meant, however, he figured going in sequential order would result in the least amount of confusion from skipping over things he should have known. He found a website fairly quickly which outlined the definitions of gay/lesbian and bisexual, even including a description of transgender and gender identity. He glared slightly at an unfamiliar word, before shooting a text over to Roman.

Logan: Roman, do you identify with the words, ‘transsexual’ or ‘transvestite’?

He continued reading through the website as he waited for a reply. It was only a couple of minutes before his phone buzzed on the table next to him.

Roman: uhh, no 😂 those terms are all pretty outdated. there might be some trans people who still use the word transsexual, but transvestite is generally seen as a,,, negative term. at least, if someone called me a transvestite I wouldn’t take it in a positive way.

Logan frowned before closing his tab. Clearly, the website wasn’t up to date.

In his search to find a description of pansexuality, Logan stumbled on another website with a list of terms, this one seeming considerably more reliable. He skimmed over the definition of pansexuality, getting a general grip on the term before he decided to text Patton.

Logan: Patton, why do you prefer the label pansexual over bisexual? I am to understand they are largely the same thing.

Patton: They are!! Really, it’s a matter of just what you /like/ to use more than anything I think! Some people say bisexuality is transphobic, cause it doesn’t clearly include nonbinary genders in its definition, but I don’t think that's fair! I have tons of bisexual, nonbinary friends! Well, okay, I have two, but still!!!

Logan nodded to himself absentmindedly. He’d heard of homophobia, so he assumed transphobia was a similar concept, but against transgender, or trans, people as opposed to gay ones. He’d yet to reach a definition of nonbinary but based on context clues he could take a guess at what it meant.

Another text came through from Patton.

Patton: Plus, there’s way more fun puns with pun-sexuality 😜

Logan put his phone away.

After finishing reading the pansexuality description, he opened up the tab of definitions and scrolled through, quickly coming upon asexuality, the next on the list.

“Asexual: A person who generally does not feel sexual attraction or desire to any group of people. Asexuality is not the same as celibacy. Click here for dedicated page.”

Logan blinked. Not… having sexual feelings towards anyone? That was an option?

He considered sending a text to Virgil, but he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to ask. Instead, he opened up the ‘dedicated page’ and began to read.

“Some asexual people are happier on their own, others are happiest with a group of close friends… free of sexual expectations we can form relationships in ways that are grounded in our individual needs and desires… Many asexual people experience attraction, but feel no need to act out that attraction sexually. Instead they feel a desire to get to know someone, to get close to them in whatever way works best for them.”

Oh.

Logan shut the lid of his laptop, trying to breathe as steadily as possible. He grabbed out his phone and texted Virgil a very uneloquent:

Logan: Asexuality is an option? That’s something you can be?

He realised that his text was quite ambiguous and likely very confusing, but luckily enough, Virgil seemed to understand what he meant.

Virgil: yeah, dude, i know. look at aromanticism next, yeah? Virgil: and, uh,,, maybe look into queerplatonic relationships? idk, that might be something that youd want to know about,,,,

Logan was about to turn back to his laptop and do exactly that when his phone buzzed again in his hand. He unlocked it to find another text from Virgil.

Virgil: oh and um, sorry abt earlier. got a lil intense there.

He smiled before sending back a reply.

Logan: It’s already forgiven.

The website Logan was on didn’t seem to have a definition of aromanticism, so after briefly reading over the other descriptions, Logan turned back to google. After scrolling through some links relating to an album of sorts, Logan opened up a website called aromantics wiki and began to read.

“An aromantic is someone who does not experience romantic attraction.”

Logan felt slightly like someone had just punched him in the stomach. He read over the definition again, and then again, his brain not quite comprehending how this one sentence held as much importance as it did.

Aromantic.

He wasn’t waiting for the right one. He wasn’t strange to not feel romantic attraction. He was aromantic.

Romance had always been pushed on him by his family. It was something he understood—he was the youngest of 3 siblings, both his older brothers having already found wives by the time they were in their late 20’s; his parents expected the same of him—but it certainly wasn’t something he had ever enjoyed.

When he was young he had a best friend called Kara, who was a girl. They’d met on the playground and had bonded over their mutual love of solitude. They both appreciated being able to spend time together without having to worry about socialising. Occasionally they’d talk about school or debate how likely it was that there was life on other planets because they were things they enjoyed discussing, but mostly they swung together or made sandcastles, movements synchronised without even trying. Their relationship had been close, but it had been simple.

And then everyone else ruined it.

When Logan came home from spending time at Kara’s house, his Dad would ask him if he had a good time with his girlfriend. Logan would frown and tell him Kara wasn’t his girlfriend. His Dad would ruffle his hair and laugh, saying, “Sure, buddy”. Logan would be confused as to why he didn’t believe him.

Logan’s brothers would seek the two of them out during lunch at school, taunting them and laughing about how “Logan has a crush! Logan has a crush!” until Kara would grab his hand to pull him away, his brothers’ oooh’s echoing in his ears. He’d hold hands with his mom too, he wouldn’t understand why it was a big deal.

Logan would lay awake at night, questioning his feelings. Did he like Kara? He liked spending time with her. He wanted to make her happy and he liked seeing her smile. He didn’t think he got butterflies around her (and really, he didn’t understand that term anyway; how would butterflies end up in your stomach?) but his parents said it was different for everyone, so maybe he just didn’t realise. He must like her, everyone said he did.

So Logan told her he liked her. And that was the last playdate they ever had together.

He hadn’t realised he was crying until he looked down to see tears splashed on his computer keys. One of the librarians, Ms Miles, had made her way over to Logan’s table and was watching him with a worried expression.

“Logan, sweetheart, are you alright?” she said, dropping the stack of books she was holding onto the other side of the table. She looked kind of shocked to see such a display of emotion from someone usually so stoic.

Logan knew the librarians, Ms Miles, Mrs Carroll and Cathy, quite well. He often volunteered to help shelve books or issue items on days where he wasn’t busy, but still wanted something to do. He’d even collaborated on some displays and events with them when they were asking for help from students, and Cathy had a running list of books she was recommending Logan every time he came in, leading to some truly excellent finds.

Logan wiped at his eyes hastily before sliding his laptop into his bag and standing up from the table.

“Yes, Ms Miles, I’m fine,” Logan lied—his entire world view had just shifted, he was far from fine—“I just remembered something upsetting, but it’s a long time past, really. I’m just going to go back to my dorm now.”

Ms Miles nodded cautiously.

“If you’re sure, Logan,” she said, sweeping up the books she’d put on the table and turning around to begin shelving.

Logan took a shaky breath before grabbing his phone out of his pocket and sending Virgil another text.

Logan: Meet me at the greenhouse. ASAP.

Logan felt his phone buzz almost immediately but didn’t check the reply, instead replacing his cell phone back in his pocket and heading off in the direction of the drama rooms.

Virgil and Logan had an unspoken agreement of sorts. The two of them understood each other very well, having similar natures—usually quiet and more in need of solitude than their two extroverted friends. Time spent with Virgil was generally peaceful and free of societal expectations. They were able to exist near each other without fear of having to socialise, and so they often sought each other out when spoons were low or when they simply needed a bit of quiet company.

Yes, often Virgil needed to be calmed due to his excessive worrying, but Logan was more than happy to do so, providing him with facts and whole truths until Virgil felt slightly more in control. Logan had never been good at comforting people—mindless platitudes and social niceties escaped his realm of understanding—but Virgil didn’t need that. He knew it was bullshit as much as Logan did.

In return, Virgil would keep an eye on Logan. It was subtle at first, but over time grew to Virgil outright ordering him to take care of himself, showing up at his room at all hours of the night, virtually forcing him into bed. Logan would complain as it was happening, but he’d wake up in the morning feeling warmer, ready to tackle whatever had kept him up so late with a more relaxed perspective. Truly, Virgil was an excellent friend.

If Logan thought too hard about it, which he tried his best not to, he reminded him of Kara.

Logan arrived at the greenhouse. It was abandoned, as it always seemed to be. The inside of the glass was coated in dirt, though not enough that you couldn’t see the knocked over plant pots and bags of dirt piled in the corners. Logan had hypothesised to Virgil that the greenhouse must have been used by the botany students once, though it had been in disuse for the entire time Logan and Virgil had known of it.

He took a seat on the ground, leaning against the warm glass. He expected it to be a couple more minutes before Virgil arrived—when comparing the distance between the library and his dorm—so Logan tried to take deep steadying breaths as he waited.

The first time Logan and Virgil had seen the greenhouse was within the first few months of knowing each other. They’d been lightly discussing the merits of social media as they wandered towards their next classes, both giving opposing arguments to what the other said, but always to prompt more discussion rather than as a result of their own beliefs. At least, they’d thought they were wandering towards their next classes. Unfortunately, however, they’d fallen prey to that trope of each of them thinking the other was leading the way, and so instead they ended up somewhere entirely different.

That somewhere different had been the greenhouse.

It had piqued Virgil’s interest almost immediately, always looking for more private places within the school grounds. Having an anxiety disorder in a place so public as a university campus could prove to be a bit difficult sometimes, Virgil had mentioned, and having somewhere he could go when he was feeling overwhelmed and needed to be alone was extremely important to him.

Upon closer inspection, Logan had concluded that the greenhouse hadn’t been used in quite some time. Not only was the area generally overgrown and unkempt—as opposed to the rest of the school, which had the grass cut regularly—but the padlock that hung on the door was rusted shut. Logan didn’t think that anyone could get in if they wanted to.

They’d scoped it out for a time, coming back every so often to check that no one was hanging around there during their breaks or anything, but it remained empty.

Weeks later Logan had witnessed Virgil have a panic attack for the first time. He’d texted Logan while he was studying at the library, telling him to come to the greenhouse. Logan hadn’t really thought anything of it—Virgil likely just wanted a bit of company—so when he arrived to one of his best friends crying and hyperventilating, he’d been a bit taken aback.

It hadn’t gone excellently for either of them. Logan had never seen anyone have a panic attack before so the first 5 or so minutes had been filled with a rather concerned Logan trying to get Virgil to tell him what he was supposed to be doing. In the end, Logan had realised he needed to get Virgil to breathe and had guided him through it a few times, Virgil eventually reaching a point where he was okay enough to explain.

Logan had learnt a lot about anxiety disorders since then. He’d gone back to the empty dorm almost immediately after Virgil had returned to class and researched into it as much as he could. He knew which breathing patterns to implement and he knew which grounding exercises to use, but that didn’t make it all that much easier to do when he, himself, was spiralling into a state of alarm.

He was going to end up living the rest of his life by himself without anyone to be there for him. All his friends were going to pair up, were going to fall in love and move away and he would remain—the leftovers nobody wanted.

He was never going to fall in love. He was never going to have that perfect life his family expected of him. He was going to end up alone forever and he didn’t want to be alone.

He wondered absently if maybe Virgil wasn’t going to come at all. Maybe Logan would die here, unable to breathe as a crushing weight sat on top of his chest.

Luckily, Virgil decided now was a good time to show up. Logan didn’t notice Virgil first arrive—his head pressed against his knees, arms braced on either side—but he did notice as Virgil took a seat next to him, his calming voice floating through Logan’s panicked haze.

“Come on, Lo, you know the breathing techniques, right?” Logan heard him say, “You just gotta breathe with me.”

Logan listened as he began to count, trying his best to breathe in time and focus on Virgil, only Virgil, nothing else. It was actually easier than he thought it would be to block everything out, just listening to Virgil’s counting and slow, steady breaths. It almost made him feel like he was floating, his body left behind as his mind latched on to Virgil’s words, wrapping itself up in them like they were a blanket on a cold winter’s day.

By the time Logan had calmed down, he was exhausted.

His body was sore; tense muscles unclenching, shoulders dropping and chest expanding as he breathed. He tried to focus on staying calm and not on the lingering panic buried in the back of his mind.

“Well, that was absolutely awful,” Logan said, voice much more hoarse than he’d expected it to be, “How do you do that all the time?”

Virgil chuckled, though Logan could tell he was worried. “Well, yeah. It’s not like I choose to.”

Logan hummed noncommittally.

Virgil carefully kept his distance, knowing Logan’s general distaste for physical contact, but right now all Logan wanted to do is crawl into Virgil’s lap and take a nap, maybe have Virgil run his hand through Logan’s hair. Fuck, he must be tired if he’s thinking like that.

Virgil must have been able to sense Logan’s wish for a hug somehow though, because he opened his arms in an offer and Logan barely hesitated before diving in and wrapping his arms around him. Virgil was warm and soft and safe. His grip was offering the perfect amount of pressure where he felt secure, but not trapped. Distantly, Logan realised he was crying again. Not sobbing, more like tears leaking out without his permission and damn, he was going to get dehydrated at this rate.

“I’m sorry,” Logan mumbled into the fabric of Virgil’s hoodie, “I don’t mean to be so emotional, I just-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Virgil interrupted, “Figuring things out about yourself is overwhelming. God knows I was a mess when I realised I was ace, or when I realised I was nonbinary, or, heck, even just realising I liked boys was a whole lot to deal with.”

“Overwhelming is definitely a word for it, yes.” Logan laughed wetly. “It just feels like suddenly I have so much more to worry about than I did yesterday.”

Virgil unwrapped his arms from around Logan to tilt his chin up. His expression was affectionate and kind.

“But you have a community now, yeah?” he said, voice soft, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Logan barely gave himself a second to think before he was leaning up and pressing a kiss to Virgil’s cheek. Virgil spluttered for about a full five seconds, his face going bright red. Logan pulled away, unable to contain his laughter.

“What…” Virgil trailed off, expression completely baffled, “What was that?”

Logan, amusement dying down, pulled away to instead take position with his head on Virgil’s lap. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as he had hoped it was going to be, but he was too tired to move now.

“It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Acting on instinct? Who are you and what have you done with Logan?” Virgil joked, but his face was bright.

Virgil moved his legs slightly and Logan shifted with him and, yes, this was much better. They lay there for a moment, enjoying the stillness. Virgil’s hand had drifted to his hair and after some hesitance from Virgil and a small whine from Logan as he tried to pull away, he had taken to playing with it absentmindedly, his hand stroking through Logan’s dark curls. Another point to Logan for getting what he wanted without having to explicitly ask for it.

Logan had just about drifted off, warm sun beating down on him, when Virgil’s voice cut through the silence.

“Did you, uh, manage to look into queerplatonic relationships… by any chance?"

Logan opened his eyes. Virgil had gone tense underneath him and he frowned. He didn’t understand why this topic was distressing to Virgil, but he tried to assuage his fear nonetheless.

“Virgil I assure you, there’s no need to be anxious about this.” Virgil gave him a small smile, half self-deprecating and half soft and appreciative. “But as it stands, no, I did not get a chance to look into it. Would you like to tell me about it? I promise I will try my best not to fall asleep.”

Logan let his eyes fall shut again as Virgil laughed.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said lamely, “Basically it’s like a regular friendship, but more? Like, uh, you might do things with your queerplatonic partner that you might not with just a friend, like cuddle or uh, I don’t know, emotional intimacy stuff, talking about your hopes and dreams or whatever. And it has the same commitment level as a romantic relationship, like, you might stay together for the rest of your lives kind of thing, but it’s all platonic. You love each other but, like… platonically.”

Logan opened his eyes again to see Virgil staring off into the distance, biting his lip. Absently, Logan thought that he should get Virgil one of those chewy necklaces he’d seen online—the bat one seemed like a good choice; matched his dark aesthetic. On a more concrete level, Logan suddenly understood why Virgil had been so tense.

“Oh,” Logan blinked a few times. “Is that what this is?”

Virgil’s gaze flicked over to Logan immediately, eyes widening.

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be! We can just be friends, there’s seriously no pressure to-”

“Virgil?” Logan interrupted, watching as Virgil winced slightly.

“Yeah?”

Logan examined the face above him for a moment. Virgil was the person he trusted more than anyone else he knew. Virgil was the person who was always there when he needed someone to talk him down from whatever frenzy he had managed to get into. Virgil was an intelligent debate partner, an ever-calming presence and his best friend.

Really, how could there have been any question?

Logan gave a soft smile, “I’d like that.”

Virgil’s answering grin was blinding. Logan couldn’t help but smile brighter in return, his chest warm.

He felt protected here with Virgil. Protected from all the worries he’d previously had, protected from the harshness of the outside world that may not understand them, protected from his own insecurities. He knew Virgil loved him—really he thinks he always knew—and Logan loved him in return.

Virgil was there for him; he didn’t need to be alone.

So, of course, he could not let this moment last.

Logan put on a fake innocent look, channelling all the acting skills he must have gained by proxy from living with Roman.

“Does this mean I get to kiss you on the cheek more frequently?”

Virgil snorted, his face scrunching up as he pushed Logan off of his lap and onto the ground. Logan laughed as Virgil stood up, brushing the dirt off of the back of his skirt.

“I’m gonna get you back for that one day, you know that, right?” Virgil was scowling but Logan could tell he didn’t really mean anything by it.

Logan smiled up at him.

“I have full faith that you will.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #analogical #queerplatonic analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #royality #background royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #lo can write #gotta say I am feeling a decreasing confidence in my writing ability #started out strong and getting worse hahah #aspec sides

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notveryglittery · 5 years

Text

all i want for christmas (is a break)

summary: it's virgil's first real christmas with the others. it doesn't go as well as they'd all like. words: 2,400 / ships: platonic lamp (prinxiety & analogical focus) warnings: fighting, miscommunication. lmk if i need to add any! notes: this is prompt 7 from @sanderssidescelebrations, secret santa! i hope that you like it! <3

read on ao3 | @fandersfic-lamp

“There is absolutely no reason to panic,” Logan said in a tone that was very much bordering on panicked.

“It has to be perfect,” Roman snapped without looking up from the notebook he was furiously scribbling in. The words were hardly legible, given the impatience he was writing with. It’d be safe to assume, however, that they were gift ideas, each more extravagant than the last.

Patton was pacing through the living room; he looped around the coffee table and down the hall towards the entry into the kitchen, back again passed the staircase, and by the entertainment center, before he tread the same path once more. He was wringing his hands together and muttering under his breath, occasionally biting at a fingernail or scrubbing a palm against his cheek.

Virgil appeared as if from thin air, though he really had taken the steps one at a time, had any of the others been paying enough attention. For a moment, he watched quietly from his spot. Guilt tore through him. This was his fault, after all. It would be the first Secret Santa that Thomas was participating in since Virgil had shared his name and they’d begun to accept him into their group.

Patton, of course, noticed his presence first.

“Virgil!” He cried, stumbling in how suddenly he came to a halt. He approached, taking Virgil’s hands in his own. He seemed too distressed to realize what an invasion of privacy this was. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Are you?” Roman snarked in the same breath Virgil muttered it.

Patton sent a sharp glare over his shoulder to Roman, who didn’t see it anyway, as he was still writing.

“Of course,” Patton reassured, looking to Virgil with wide eyes. “I have a tiny little favor to ask of you, though.”

Virgil stiffened and slowly pulled his hands free of Patton’s hold. “… What’s that?

“Can you maybe,” Patton began, clasping his own hands together and pressing them against his chest, “perhaps if you’re able… No big deal if you aren’t! It might just help if… Well, it’s just so hard to focus, you see…”

“Spit it out, Patton,” Logan piped up from his spot at the table, where it looked like he was trying to decipher a piece of paper that Roman had tossed aside. Clearly, he wasn’t doing much better than his companions, though.

“Can you tone it down a little?” Patton rushed through his request, expression already crumpling in regret.

Virgil couldn’t say that he hadn’t seen it coming but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting.

“Sure,” he responded, easily. “Yeah, totally. Let me do that.” He closed his eyes and pressed his index fingers to his temples. His face scrunched up in concentration. A moment of silence followed — even the scratching of Roman’s pen paused.

Virgil opened one eye. “Is it working?” The sarcasm in his voice was a dead giveaway.

Roman stood up, knocking his chair over as he did so. He threw the pen at Virgil but his aim was way off and it bounced harmlessly off the wall. “If you’re not going to help, then just get out!”

“Roman!” Patton scolded, rounding on the prince. “We do not talk to each other like that!”

“Pump the brakes, Princey,” Logan said in a tone that seemed entirely unimpressed with Roman’s tantrum.

Virgil folded his arms over his chest and glared at Roman with half-lidded disinterest. “Yeah, ‘cause that worked out so well for you guys last time.”

Patton flinched.

“Perhaps we ought to take a break and reconvene once you’ve all calmed down,” Logan suggested.

“Oh! Right, because you’re doing just fine, aren’t you!” Roman shot back. He gestured to Logan from top to bottom — or, top to chest given the rest of him was hidden by the table — and it was clear just what he meant. His hair was unruly from a hand being run through it one too many times, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, and the tie might as well have been removed completely given how loose it was.

“I am, thank you very much,” he said, scowling at Roman. “As we are currently in a neutral zone of the Mindscape, Virgil’s anxieties have no power over me. They don’t over any of us and if you would take a single second to breathe and quit blaming him for every single one of your problems, then you would realize that!”

In his rant, Logan had risen from his chair and his hands were clenched now at his sides. Patton looked unwell, his face gone pale and his shoulders beginning to shake. Roman, however, seemed even angrier; apparently not, though, with Logan.

Storming towards Virgil, he shoved Patton out of his way and leaned in so close to the former, that their noses were nearly touching. Patton gave a startled gasp, catching himself on the back of recliner. Virgil, if anything, looked more upset about Roman’s lack of care than he did the lack of distance between them.

“This is your first Christmas with us and we’ve never had trouble like this before!” Roman hissed, jabbing a finger into Virgil’s chest. “Who else am I supposed to blame?!”

Virgil pushed hard at Roman’s shoulder, granting himself some space. “Yourself, maybe?” Virgil offered, scoffing. “I suppose you want to impress me just as much as you do Thomas. I’m flattered, really.”

Patton whimpered very softly, wrapping his arms around himself.

“You always do this,” Virgil said accusingly. “You know how busy Thomas gets this time of year and yet you still insist he goes for every single Secret Santa, all the holiday parties you can get him to agree to, each Friendsmas, all those special productions for the season. All that stress isn’t going to be my fault!”

“Enough,” Logan tried to intervene.

“It’ll be yours!” Virgil continued, raising his voice. “Every year, I try to tell you to slow down but do you listen? Have you ever listened?! Not until those two—” He flung an arm out in Logan and Patton’s direction, “— are forced to step in and agree with me! Well, guess what, Roman!” Virgil spat, eyes blazing, “I’m not going to take it from you this time! Whether you like it or not, Thomas is working towards accepting me just as much as he does any of you and so we’re going to take it easy this year because he needs a damn break!” Virgil gestured this time to Roman, “God, look at yourself, you need a damn break!”

Upon closer inspection, it became clear just what Virgil was insinuating. Roman’s hair had lost its shine, there were bags under his eyes barely hidden by concealer, and while he wasn’t wearing his usual royal attire, even his loungewear looked wrinkled and unkempt.

Despite the tears welling in his eyes, Patton took a careful step forward and rested a hand on Roman’s forearm. “Ro… is there something you’re not telling us?”

Roman glanced only briefly at Patton, gave Virgil one last furious glare, and sunk out.

Patton’s hand hung in the open air a moment longer before his fingers curled slowly into a fist. He pressed it against his mouth and stifled a sob.

The fight seemed to drain out of Virgil immediately and he collapsed with a thud on the bottom step of the staircase. He swore under his breath.

“That… could have gone better,” Logan murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll be in my room,” Patton managed in a choked voice. Before Logan or Virgil could react, he too disappeared from the living area.

“I didn’t mean it,” Virgil said.

“Yes. You did,” Logan disagreed, though it wasn’t unkind. With another sigh, he joined Virgil. The latter scooted over to make room for him, hugging his knees to his chest. Logan stretched his own legs out and rested his palms atop his thighs. “Let’s take a few deep breaths.”

Logan moved one hand to Virgil’s ankle, where he tapped out a 4-7-8 rhythm for Virgil and himself to inhale and exhale along to. After a few rounds of this, they had both calmed down considerably. Logan fixed his tie while Virgil toyed with the zipper on one of his sleeves.

“I believe you owe Roman an apology.”

“Only if he has one for me, too,” Virgil responded without hesitation.

“He will,” Logan continued, “Patton will make certain of it.”

“… Terrence’s gift doesn’t have to be perfect,” Virgil said finally. “It’s Terrence! He and Thomas have been friends for years! Whatever we get him, he’ll love it. He’s one of the happiest people Thomas knows and he’s pretty easy to please and there’s really no going wrong with it so I don’t—”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted gently, making an exaggerated point to take a deep breath in.

“… I don’t understand why Princey’s freaking out,” Virgil finished slowly.

“Roman may have been correct when he said it is your first Christmas with us. However, that does not mean that we’ve been without you for all of the others. Of course you’ve been as crucial a part of Thomas as any of us for quite some time and while he may only have recently begun to accept that, it does not mean that we are more important than you. I… think that might be, at least partially, what has Roman so upset.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “are you saying Roman’s mad because the fans like me better?”

“Yes.”

Logan’s blunt answer surprised Virgil, apparently. He reeled back. “They don’t, though! I’m… y’know!” He motioned wildly at himself. “Why would anyone like Anxiety better than Creativity?!”

Logan’s gaze drifted, going a bit distant. Neither spoke for a minute. Eventually, Logan turned to Virgil with a wry smile. “Why don’t you go talk to Roman? I’ll check on Patton.”

Virgil didn’t seem much like he wanted to go anywhere near Roman but he could feel the way Thomas was still recovering and Virgil knew it was because everyone had been so… heightened earlier. “Okay,” he mumbled at last, standing and heading up the stairs.

Roman’s room was across from Patton’s and while Virgil would have preferred going to Patton first and apologizing for the way he’d behaved, he knew which had to happen first.

He knocked on Roman’s door.

There was a crash, as if something had been dropped or knocked over. Virgil winced.

“… You good?”

Any shuffling on the other side ceased. There was a sniffle. Virgil internally cursed.

“What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”

Another pause before the handle turned and the door opened. Virgil noticed right away the redness of Roman's eyes and the hunch in his shoulders. He stepped aside to let Virgil in.

The room was in disarray. The sheets on the bed were tangled together, notebooks strewn across the floor, and there were a couple of trophies on the ground by the bookshelf they were normally kept on. Virgil assumed those were what had fell.

Roman threw himself back into the chair at his desk and went back to what Virgil guessed was his brainstorming for Terrence’s gift.

What a stupid reason for a fight, Virgil thought, morose.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Roman asked, voice rough.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil blurted.

Roman hesitated in his writing for a moment before he continued.

“What I said… it wasn’t fair. I would say I didn’t mean it but Logan already called me out on that.” Virgil fidgeted with his sleeves, pulling them over his hands. “I’ve been stressing about this since Thomas drew Terrence’s name but I guess I didn’t realize how you guys would react to it. It’s… I’ve kept it to myself in the past, so I thought it wouldn’t be an issue this time either.”

Roman slowed until he finally set the pen down. He sighed and Virgil watched as the stress seemed to melt off of his tense frame. He pivoted in his seat, facing Virgil, but not looking directly at him.

“I’m… sorry, too. I shouldn’t have automatically accused you. That was wrong. I made an assumption based off of what I used to… feel about you.”

Virgil grinned, a bit lopsided. “It hasn’t been very long since I started fitting in,” Roman snorted at the reference, “so I guess I can’t really blame you.”

Roman picked at his nail polish. Virgil shifted on his feet.

“Did you… talk to Patton?”

Roman shook his head.

“Logan said he would, so… What if… Maybe we could go and make cookies for him? We were both pretty rude to him.”

Roman frowned. “… I shoved him, didn’t I?”

Virgil nodded.

Roman stood and went back to the door, gesturing for Virgil to follow. They headed downstairs and to the kitchen. It was quiet on the lower floor so Virgil could only hope that Logan was consoling Patton — as best he could, anyway. He and Roman went to work on baking cookies. They weren’t from scratch; while either probably could have done it just fine, they figured the packaged mix would be done quicker and they wanted to help Patton feel better sooner rather than later. Sure enough, the tray had just come out of the oven when Patton and Logan returned.

There was flour in Roman’s hair and Virgil’s fingers were messy with melted chocolate. Patton giggled at the sight of them, but it didn’t sound quite right. Logan smiled at the pair of them from behind him.

“I’m sorry, sunshine,” Roman exclaimed, rushing to Patton and scooping him up into his arms. He twirled Patton around the kitchen and the laughter that followed sounded lighter and easier. “My behavior was positively atrocious and you deserve so much better than that! How ever shall I make it up to you?” He asked, letting Patton down and holding him gently by the shoulders, gazing at him earnestly.

“I’m sorry, too, Pat,” Virgil muttered, “I shouldn’t have been so rude. You just wanted me to dial it back before things escalated.”

Patton patted Roman softly on the cheek before looking to Virgil. “I shouldn’t have asked that of you. That wasn’t fair and I’m sorry.” Patton turned to Roman. “Ro, you may make it up to me by allowing me the first cookie.” His request was spoken seriously but there was a gleam in his eyes.

Roman nearly tripped over himself in his haste to do as Patton asked.

Eventually, they were sat around the dining room table. This time, Roman’s notebooks were organized and his pens were of the rainbow gel variety. They worked together to figure out a gift for Terrence that would be both fun and practical. By the end of their discussion, each was feeling much better about themselves and their bond with the others.

#sanders sides fan fiction #sanders sides lamp #platonic prinxiety #platonic analogical #platonic lamp #dani writes #sanders sides celebrations 2018

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daleisgreat · 3 years

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Star Trek: The Next Generation: Season Seven

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-Finally, after three years of watching mostly one episode a week, I have finished my re-watch of all seven seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation (season seven trailer)! I am thrilled to present my final entry here chronicling my adventures with the crew of the Enterprise! For the final season I was able to slightly bump up my viewing habits and mostly stuck to watching two episodes a week, and thus I was able to make faster progress on this final season! Somehow, my horrendously outdated Samsung Galaxy S7 phone has managed to barely limp along this entire journey with me, and the gloriously awful pics featured throughout this article are courtesy of that wonderful device. -Season six wrapped with an enticing cliffhanger to “Descent” where Lore managed to work some sinister sorcery to recruit a squadron of Borg and hack into the code banks of Data (Brent Spiner) in order to recruit him to join his cause. Season seven had a great kickoff to resolve this new threat, and had a satisfying conclusion at putting an end to Lore once and for all. I would rank “Descent” on the higher end of TNG two-part arcs, as the Lore/Borg/Data combination proved to be an intriguing antagonist to see how they would be dealt with.

Picard is ready for combat on the left, while falling ill on the Enterprise leads to crew members tripping with some wild illusions on the right! -I was a little bummed to see a complete lack of appearances from Whoopi Goldberg in her role as Guinan in the final season. I am presuming it must have been scheduling conflicts as she has always been in high demand, especially around this time just a couple years after her Oscar win for Best Supporting Actress in Ghost. Whoopi would return as Guinan in two of the four Star Trek movies based on TNG cast.

-A pair of recurring characters that did return for their final episodes this season are Michelle Forbes as Ensign Lt. Ro Lauren and Wil Wheaton as Wesley Crusher. Ro is fresh off tactical training for an important undercover mission that conclusively decides her fate with Starfleet as she would never appear in another Star Trek series or film again after this. According to my research I was surprised to learn it took a last minute agreement with Forbes within a week before filming to get her to reprise her role as she was starting to distance herself from the brand after initial plans to make her a mainstay on Deep Space Nine fizzled. Wesley Crusher’s final appearance had a better payoff in “Journey’s End” where during a vision quest he finally is deemed ready by a previous guest character, The Traveler (Eric Menyuk), to join him on a mystical journey to see Wesley fulfill his supernatural potential. I had no idea they were going to payoff these vague promises The Traveler alluded to in Wesley way back in season two, so big props to the cast and crew making that happen! -Other past recurring characters returned, but only to see them casted in middling-to-disappointing episodes. This is the case for Reginald Barclay (Dwight Schultz) in the head-scratching “Genesis” episode that has the Enterprise staff fall victim to a virus that de-evolves them into various primates. The love-or-hate mother of Deanna Troi (Marina Sirtis), Lwaxana (Majel Barrett), has a major sendoff in her final episode where we learn all about her tragic backstory.

-Speaking of mediocre episodes, season seven has a bit more than previous seasons. A two-parter sees Riker and Picard go undercover to form a fake mutiny to sniff out a Vulcan double agent, and while it is not terrible by any means, the whole arc seems bloated and the second episode feels unnecessary. “Phantasms” is as bizarre as the dreams Data (Brent Spiner) has in the episode, but Data later has a redeeming character episode in “Inheritance” where he meets his mother…..then later hits another stumble in “Thine Own Self” where his radioactive experiments causes a planet’s population to become seriously ill. I will give season seven the benefit of the doubt for the noticeable bump up in lackluster episodes because several of the bonus interviews own up to this and attribute it to the cast and crew being spread thin with the final season of TNG, the second season of Deep Space Nine and being in pre-production of the first season of Voyager and the upcoming movie with the TNG crew, Generations. -The holodeck’s sendoff in TNG, “Emergence” is a decent affair that sees the crew go aboard the Orient Express to solve the mystery of how the holodeck becomes self-aware. The episode had a few promising moments, but could have been better. While I enjoyed the quality of holodeck episodes overall in TNG, from what I understand the holodeck episodes greatly suffer going forward and falls victim to holodeck malfunctions and sexual fantasy tropes.

Worf once again has a strong set of character-focused episodes this season. You have not lived until witnessing Worf adopt a cat for an episode, and experience a birthday party time-loop. -Worf (Michael Dorn) has one of the strongest slate of character episodes this season. Seeing Worf being a curmudgeon at his birthday party was pulled off to perfection! “Homeward” is a feel-good family episode where Worf resolves his rocky relationship with his foster brother, Nikolai (Paul Sorvino). The best Worf-centered episode is saved for last where he trains Alexander (James Sloyan) in the arts of becoming a Klingon warrior with the help of a mysterious Klingon friend.

-A couple other episodes that made strong impressions on me this season are “The Pegasus” and “Lower Decks.” In the former, Terry O’ Quinn of Lost fame, appears here as a higher-up from Starfleet to track down the lost USS Pegasus, but Picard (Patrick Stewart) eventually discovers a grand cover-up that has an enticing way of finding the truth of what Quinn’s character is hiding. “Lower Decks” is entirely focused on the background Ensigns and ancillary characters like Nurse Ogawa (Patti Yasutake). The last couple years saw the streaming service, Paramount+ (formerly CBS All Access) launch a Star Trek: Lower Decks animated series with the very same premise, and if you are a fan of the cartoon, you owe it to yourself to track down this episode as its source material. “Interface” and “Bloodlines” are both strong episodes dealing with long forgotten family members. The former has Geordi (LeVar Burton) risking his life with prototype tech to save his mother (Madge Sinclair), and the latter deals with Picard’s surprise of finding out he had a son (Ken Olandt) from a decades-prior relationship.

-Now to the moment of truth, it is time to cover the final two-part episode, “All Good Things…” The series finale naturally focuses on Jean-Luc as he finds himself constantly time-warping between three different time periods to solve a new challenge bestowed onto him by none other than Q (John de Lancie). I loved how they brought it back full-circle with one of the time periods emanating from the same setting as the original pilot episode of TNG where Q puts the then-newly assembled Enterprise crew on trial. The cast and crew hold nothing back for the final episode with an enthralling narrative as Picard pieces together Q’s final challenge, and has an emotional final scene where after seven seasons, Picard finally joins his crew for a round of poker. -Here is the paragraph with my obligatory kudos to the countless hours spent remastering TNG in HD for the BluRay set. I am not a video-phile and cannot immaculately explain with the proper tech verbiage on how they did it. All I can say is the staff painstakingly made it look like they shot it today, and it does not have any of the old fuzzy standard definition effects that would happen when forcing an SD resolution onto an HD set. Just watch this indicative video that overlays the remastered HD transfer over the SD version to see for yourself. I will also give yearly props to the podcast, Star Trek: The Next Conversation which chronicles every individual episode of TNG and has served as the best supplementary listening material to get the most out of every episode for me. The podcast took a hiatus during the pandemic, and only recently picked up again and are only a couple episodes into season seven as of this writing, so I will pat myself on the back at catching up to them when I was nearly a season and a half behind them when I started from the beginning of TNG.

-You guys know I love covering the bonus features, and season seven of the BluRay is absolutely jacked with them with previous bonus interviews and specials, and all new HD extras. According to my notes, it all added up for just over five hours of bonus materials, and that is not including a handful of commentary tracks on selected episodes. Going over each and every piece of bonus content will kill me, so instead I will highlight the handful that I got the most out of: -----Captain’s Tribute (16 min) – Stewart gives loving testimonials to the cast and crew. A lesson he learned from a dialog with Michael Dorn and LeVar Burton was a key takeaway here. -----In Conversation: Lensing ST: TNG (42 min) - This one is a new HD extra aimed at special effects enthusiasts where a roundtable discussion with camera operators and directors of photography reunite to talk shop of the many highs and lows of on the set production. While a fair amount of trade vernacular went right over my head, they provided ample context and their enthusiasm for their craft is irresistible!

I know it is asking a lot to dive into the many hours of bonus interviews, but nearly most of it is incredibly insightful and well worth your time! -----Starfleet Moments & Memories (30 min) – Awesome feature showcasing the camaraderie and humor between takes that indicates a true sense of friendship among the cast and crew. -----Closed Set: Tour of Real Enterprise (11 min) – The Okundas give a private, narrated, tour of the Enterprise filled with fun facts like how the set for sickbay gained a reputation among cast and crew as “nap-bay.” Every person should have their own nap-bay! -----Journeys End: The Saga of TNG (45 min) – Original 1994 TV special hosted by Jonathan Frakes celebrating the end of an era. ----Sky’s the Limit: Eclipse of TNG (89 min) – Three part special with part one primarily focused on the cast and crew having a lot of projects on their plate the final year and lovingly throwing shade at Picket Fences for stealing their Emmy award! Part two interviews various directors of episodes about their process, and Seth McFarlane shares a special moment he had with a fan on how the show saved their life. The third part interviews a lot of the cast on how they felt the show wrapped, with a couple highlights being Sirtis not being fond of the Worf/Deanna courtship, and Patrick Stewart remarking when asked about future projects that he would consider them, but thought they would ultimately be unnecessary. This was obviously recorded several years before Stewart would return as Picard in the current Paramount+ series, Picard.

-Suffice it to say, the extra features do not disappoint! As I foreshadowed above, there is an apparent dip in quality this season overall compared to the high bar set from seasons three through six, but I will cut the cast and crew some slack since they were seriously overworked during the 1993-94 season. There are still many excellent episodes though as I dissected above, and a terrific series finale that puts the best damn bow they possibly could on the TV series. Thank you so much for joining me on this ride over the past three years and bearing with me on my never-ending entries covering the series. If you missed out on previous entries, click here to see all my previous season recaps of The Next Generation, or click here to continue my journey with TNG crew with my reviews of all the Star Trek motion pictures.

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Past TV/Web Series Blogs 2013-14 TV Season Recap 2014-15 TV Season Recap 2015-16 TV Season Recap 2016-17 TV Season Recap 2017-18 TV Season Recap 2018-19 TV Season Recap 2019-20 TV Season Recap Adventures of Briscoe County Jr: The Complete Series Baseball: A Ken Burns series Angry Videogame Nerd Home Video Collections Cobra Kai – Seasons 1-2 Mortal Kombat: Legacy - Season 1 | Season 2 OJ: Made in America: 30 for 30 RedvsBlue - Seasons 1-13 Roseanne – Seasons 1-9 Seinfeld - Final Season Star Trek: Next Generation – Seasons 1-7 Superheroes: A Never-Ending Battle Superheroes: Pioneers of Television The Vietnam War: A Ken Burns series X-Men – The Animated Series: Volumes 4-5

#star trek #Star Trek TNG #picard #data #Patrick Stewart #Brent Spiner #jonathan frakes #gates mcfadden #Marina Sirtis #levar burton #Michael Dorn #Wil Wheaton #whoopi goldberg #dwight schultz

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awkwarddezzy · 7 years

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Ignite

Pairing: Dan x Phil

Genre: friendship, romance, slight angst

TW: swearing, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 7,494

Summary: Hawaii: the state everyone knows as paradise. For Dan Howell, the label is far from what his life is truly like. When Phil transfers to Dan’s high school from Manchester, the two boys instantly become friends. But will the revelation of Dan’s hidden past affect their budding friendship? Phan HS AU.

Hey ya’ll! This is technically my first fanfic posting of 2017, although I already had this written back in 2016. I mentioned a handful of times in tags for my shitposting that I wrote a Phan-inspired story as part of my short story portfolio for my creative writing class last semester. I submitted said story for possible publication at my college’s local journal, so cross your fingers with me that it’ll make the cut. I mean, can you imagine a phanfic legitimately bring published?

My professor absolutely loved the story. Even though it was over the word limit (she set it as 4,000), she told me she didn’t mind the word count as long as the plot was good. Needless to say, I got an A on it. Hell, when we had to type an analysis about our stories, I specifically mentioned being inspired by Dan and Phil and how homogenous relationships are often undermined in young adult literature.

I’m proud of this baby. Aside from character names (because I didn’t wanna plagiarize), this is nearly word for word of that story. I guarantee this is different than any phanfics ever to exist. One, because the setting is in Hawaii (our professor gave us extra credit if we tied our story to Hawaii in some way since I do go to a community college in Oahu). Two, to make it personal, I made my Dan-inspired character Filipino (because I’m Filipino myself) and kept my Phil-inspired character British. In short, this is my story using the YouTubers I had in mind while writing the story. It’s basically a high school AU, which I’m used to writing when it comes to AU’s.

I finally got around to posting this in light of Phil’s birthday. I CAN’T BELIEVE OUR BELOVED ANGEL BEAN IS FINALLY 30. *screams* He’s getting old. We’re getting old. Jesus Christ, Phil’s finally reached the age of parenthood. It’s only a matter of time when we see Phil Jr’s walking around England lol.

Now on with the story!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

When people use fire as a metaphor for love, I roll my eyes and silently think these people are delirious. They think love is a burning passion they allow themselves to consume them completely. Or they think love is a spontaneous combustion when two pairs of eyes are caught in a lingering stare for the first time. But those are the fools talking. Those people are blind to what fire really means.

Fire is despising the source of its ignition.

Fire is a glow you believed had completely faded, yet still remained raging within you.

Fire is a curse and a traitor, yet also a blessing and a helping hand.

Fire is what makes me fluctuate between being a dreamer and a realist.

~:~

He’s a needle in a haystack with his raven hair, cerulean eyes, and pale skin. The cafeteria is swarming with incoherent conversations between students coming in and out of the stuffy building. I stand stock still, lunch tray in hand, debating whether or not I should go talk to him.

My feet move toward the boy with no hesitation. He stares intently at me when I place my lunch tray on the table’s wooden surface and sit on the benched seat across from him.

We remain silent for several seconds before I blurt out, “I like your shirt.” He’s wearing a white t-shirt embedded with lyrics from a Panic at the Disco song.

“You like PATD?” His voice carries a heavy British accent.

“One of my favorite bands.”

A corner of his mouth curves slightly upward. “What other bands are you into?”

“Ummm… Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, All Time Low, Breaking Benjamin, Muse-”

“Whoa there. What are you, some Asian clone of me?”

I chuckle. “No, but that would be pretty epic.”

He grins. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met who know Muse.”

Warmth seeps to my cheeks. “They’re one of the first bands I got into. I have a soft spot for their Origins of Symmetry album.”

“No way! That’s my favorite album too.”

I beam. Going to meet up with my friends doesn’t seem like a priority anymore. “So how come I’ve never seen you around?”

He picks up a carrot stick, dipping it into the blob of ranch dressing on the top right corner of his lunch tray, then taking a bite out of it. “I moved here from Manchester a couple weeks ago. You know, for a place where everyone want to vacation, it’s way different when you’re actually living there.”

“That’s paradise for ya. Tourists get beaches, fine accommodations, and hot hula girls. Locals get Pidgin, spam musubi, and a complex bus system.”

“I’m out of my element here.”

“You’ll learn to adjust.”

He finishes the rest of the carrot stick. “I’m Phillip by the way, but you can call me Phil.”

“Phil… got it.”

“Uh-huh. My entire first name makes me sound like a grandpa.”

I laugh. “You’re gonna be a grandpa someday anyway.”

“Hey, I’m still young! Lemme enjoy my teen years while I can.”

“Sure, Phillip.”

He sticks his tongue out to me playfully. “And what should I call you, Phil 2.0?”

“Well Mr. PATD, you can call me Dan. It’s short for Daniel.”

“Dan.” My name rolls off his lips in a way that sounds as if he has known me for years rather than a few minutes. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Perhaps the school year won’t be as boring as I thought it would be.

~:~

Sam, Louise, and PJ bombard Phil with questions when I introduce him to them after school that same day.

“What’s England like?”

“How do you like Oahu so far?”

“Have you tried a malasada yet?”

“What do you think about our school?”

“Why did you move here?”

“Have you ever met Emma Watson?”

“Guys! Geez, calm your tits.” I look toward Phil apologetically. “Sorry. We don’t get to meet a lot of new students who come from outside the island.”

“It’s okay.” Phil smiles shyly at my friends. “No one’s really tried to talk to me for more than two minutes till Dan approached me. I was afraid I’d be a loner for the entire year.”

PJ whistles. “Damn, Daniel. What happened to being antisocial?”

“I prefer the term introvert,” I retort.

“You haven’t made the first move in anything since you told Sam how you felt about her,” Louise says.

Phil glances between Sam and me. “You two are boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Sam loops her arm around my elbow, pressing her chest against the side of my body. “As of a couple weeks ago, yes.”

“I didn’t know that,” Phil says, giving me a scrutinizing gaze.

I rub the back of my head. “I thought it wasn’t important to mention until you got to meet my friends in person.”

“Ah.” He nods in understanding, but I detect a hint of a different emotion in his eyes. Disappointment? Disapproval? I internally shake my head. It’s probably my usual paranoia of students’ judgments whenever they see Sam and I together. Even though Sam has been my best friend for years, anyone outside my circle of friends haven’t fully comprehend why Sam prefers to be around PJ, Louise, and I. Her near flawless looks makes her more fitting for the popular crowd rather than the nerdy emo’s.

“Well then,” Louise chimes in, shoving my momentary doubts out of my head. “Who want to go to Starbucks?”

~:~

Phil gives me a tour of his house the weekend following the first week back to school. The moment I step inside the Lester residence, I’m astonished by how lively his home is compared to mine. There are houseplants in practically every corner of the house. Polaroid photos of his family are tacked to the walls of the living room. Upstairs, in Phil’s bedroom, he has various plushies littering the floor, a full-length poster of Sarah Michelle Geller on the wall behind his bed, and even a tiny cactus displayed on his bedside drawer. His twin-sized bed is covered with a green, blue, and purple checkered bedsheet, shades I think is fitting to his colorful personality.

“Sorry it’s a little messy in here,” Phil says. “I have a lot of stuff and my new room’s not as big as my old one in Manchester.”

“It’s fine. My room’s a bit messy too.”

He smiles, picking up a Totoro plushie and dropping it on his bed. “So what’s your flat like?”

“Flat?”

“Apartment.”

“Oh.” Reminder: start learning some British slang. “Not as great as yours. Roaches creeping on the floor at night. Shitty air conditioning. Noisy ass neighbors. At least my mom makes enough as a nurse to keep a roof over my head.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s… gone.”

He frowns. “Sorry to hear that.”

I respond with a curt nod. “But you’re free to come over next weekend if you want.”

His frown disappears, morphing back to the smile that he wore earlier. “That’ll be great.”

If only you knew just how much I miss him, I think. And hate him at the same time.

~:~

There’s a paper bag from Bath and Body Works on Phil’s bedroom floor when I stay over at the Lesters on a Saturday night in mid-October. I’ve been spending most of the weekend so far doing homework and catching up with episodes of Attack on Titan and JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. Sam and Louise are busy rehearsing for a PowerPoint presentation for their Modern Hawaiian History class and PJ is helping his family prepare for his cousin’s debutante, so I’ve been spending the time outside of my apartment hanging out with Phil.

“What’s with the bag?” I ask.

“Oh this?” He picks up the paper bag and empties its contents, revealing three candles and a bottle of lotion. “Mum went to Pearlridge today, so I asked her to buy these for me.”

I scan over the candle labels: Pumpkin Spice, Apple Pie, and Marshmallow Fireside. “Never pegged you for a candle person.”

“It’s a thing that runs in my family.” He picks up one of the candles. “In their uni years, my dad confessed his feelings for my mum by spelling out ‘I love you’ with candles at a beach in Liverpool. Mum loved the gesture so much, and since then, Dad’s been getting her candles on every anniversary.”

“Your dad sounds like a complete romantic.”

He nods, placing the candle on his bed. “I think candles are an excellent representation of my parents’ marriage. Their love is a candle with a flame that’ll never die.”

“They must be really happy together.”

“Twenty years and still going strong.”

Bittersweet memories of my mom, dad, my 10-year-old brother Adrian, and me surface in my mind. Thanksgivings when my dad splurged on the turkey special from Golden Coin. Christmases when we woke up at 7 AM to open gifts while watching the Macy’s Christmas Day parade. Birthdays celebrated with dinners at Max’s Restaurant. Those days are a lifetime ago, days when I still looked forward to Sundays when Dad was off from work and gave me guitar lessons.

“Yeah…” Those days are a thing of the past. On the bright side, having an absent father taught me not to be naïve and fueled my appreciation for rock music.

As if sensing my distress, Phil says, “So… wanna play some Smash Bros?”

I grin. Crushing him in one of my video games is a healthy distraction I need from my vortex of childhood memories. “I’d be stupid not to.”

~:~

When Sam suggests for me to perform for the winter pep rally, the fears I buried when I started dating her crash through my mind like a wrecking ball.

“You’re kidding,” I say in a monotone voice. We’re on my bed, Sam laying down with her dyed dirty blonde hair fanned across my Pikachu pillow and me sitting cross-legged with my guitar settled on my lap. I was in the middle of playing “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol when Sam casually brought up the question.

“I’m not.” She moves into an upright position. “Think about it. Five minutes on stage with hundreds of students cheering your name. Phil, Peej, and Lou know how talented you are. Don’t you think it’s about time to let the entire school know too?”

“No.”

She sighs. “It’s your dad, isn’t it? Danny, just because your dad was a musician doesn’t mean you’ll make the same choices he did. Besides, if being at the center of attention isn’t for you, then the pep rally can be a one-time thing. Don’t let your potential go to waste.”

I bite the inside of my mouth. A part of me is itching to live out my dream of capturing people’s souls while I perform, but the other part of me is trembling at the thought of being in my dad’s shoes. Going through with this could open up a possibility of Sam and me splitting apart.

I can’t lose Sam. Even if she isn’t my girlfriend, I can’t imagine a future without her. The Earth can be a cruel planet; I can’t navigate through it without having someone who’s equally as confused about the world as I am by my side.

She curls her arms around my neck. “I know you’re scared, but can you do it for me? For one day, can I pretend to be your rock star girlfriend sitting in the audience as you play a song dedicated to me?”

“What song do you have in mind?”

“Hmmm… a song probably everyone knows, but still fits your style.”

“So… something from Ed Sheeran, Sam Smith, or Bruno Mars?”

“Yeah!” She stares at me with her puppy-dog eyes. “So will you do it?”

One pep rally won’t be the death of you. “I’ll… give it a shot.”

She squeals, peppering the side of my face with kisses. “Thank you thank you thank you! You’re gonna be great, Danny. Show those Mariah Carey wannabees that serenading isn’t dead yet.”

I laugh. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

~:~

Nerves rattle through my body when the student announcers call my name. The audience claps as I make my way onto the platform of the makeshift stage. Standing in front of the microphone stand with the Velcro strap holding my guitar against my abdomen, I position my fingers above the instrument’s strings. Looking out into the crowd, I spot Sam, Phil, PJ, and Louise grinning enthusiastically at me.

You’ll be fine. They’ll be proud of me no matter what happens.

I strum the opening notes of “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran. When I start to sing, my pre-performance jitters dissipates. I let my hands do the playing and the lyrics do the talking. I lose myself to the symphonious tune of the song, my heart beating rhythmically like a pendulum. Thoughts about my dad are knocked out of my head, replaced with a surge of joy as I think, Why didn’t I answer to the spotlight’s call sooner?

The gym fills with applause once my performance ends. My friends are on their feet, along with dozens of other juniors, upperclassmen, and even underclassmen.

I beam from ear to ear.

I’ve never felt so alive.

~:~

Hip-hop music pulsates across the spacious area of Chris Kendall’s house. Bodies grind on the open area of the living room where furniture was shoved aside to make room for a dance floor. Parties are definitely never on my agenda. I’m only here at Chris’s graduation party because PJ wanted to go for fun (it was an open invite), Sam and Louise wanted to go to have the full high school experience, and Phil wanted to see if a high school party in Hawaii is any different than the few he went to when he lived in England. Before my performance during the winter pep rally, I was someone that no one spared a second glance. Five months later and two more performances from the spring pep rally and junior prom under my belt, I get hellos from random students in-between class periods and invites to parties from popular students. So here I am, a red plastic cup filled with Pepsi in my hand (I have my values and know better than to take one sip of alcohol) while watching my friends dancing, breathing through my mouth to avoid sniffing the sickly scent of weed and cigarettes.

“Dan!” Phil stumbles out of the kitchen holding an empty Heineken bottle.

“Hey… Phil.” I finish the rest of my drink and toss the cup into one of the trash bags lying around next to the snack table. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“I am! Aren’t you?”

“If by watching people shamelessly doing things they might regret in the morning, sure.”

“Aw. Lighten up, mate!” His palm slaps the back of my shoulder. “Want me to get you a bottle?”

“I’ll pass… wait, how much have you had to drink?”

“Eh, couple bottles I think. Might go for a third.”

“No you aren’t.” I grab his wrist and drag him to the front door. When we’re outside, I lead him to the backyard. I don’t want to haul an intoxicated Phil back to his house. Perhaps some fresh air can sober him up.

I lay him down on his back on the grass, then sit down next to him. His mouth forms into a lazy smile.

“You look pretty, Dan.”

I laugh. “I’m not a girl, dude.”

“What a shame. You’d be my perfect Buffy.”

“You and your Buffy obsession.”

“Yeah… but I love you more than Buffy.”

My blood goes cold. He isn’t saying what I think he’s saying, is he?

Phil takes my silence as a sign for him to continue. “Why did I meet a perfect guy who’s taken? You’re so smart and talented and so good at video games. I had so much hope the first time we met that we could someday be something more, then I find out you have a girlfriend and I had to learn how to just be friends with an impossible dream.” He sighs. “Why did it have to be you I fell in love with?”

Suddenly, he takes a fistful of my shirt and yanks me down onto him. I fall on top of him, my face inches away from his.

“I… love you,” he mumbles before his eyelids flutter close.

I roll myself off from his body, then scramble to sit up and scoot away from him. Heat rushes to my face, my own body quivering from his words.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

I touch my lips. He may not have kissed me, but his words feel like he did.

~:~ One week has passed since Chris’s party.

There’s no one I can tell about Phil’s drunk confession. He has no recollection of what he told me, and I have no clue if what he said is true. There’s a likelihood it isn’t. People can say all sorts of unpredictable things when they’re shitfaced drunk and not mean any of it.

Yeah right. No one says “I love you” to me without being serious.

“Fancy playing Mario Kart while we wait for the others?” Phil asks. We’re sitting on the sofa in my living room, waiting for Sam, Louise, and PJ to arrive. The five of us aren’t in the mood of going out today, so we planned a casual indoor hangout in my apartment.

“Sure,” I reply. “I’ll go get us some drinks.”

“Grab me an iced tea, yeah?”

I smile. After living in Oahu for nearly a year, Phil gradually got himself addicted to Hawaiian Sun drinks. “You’re in luck. Mom bought a fresh stock just for you.”

I leave Phil to peruse my video game collection under the TV stand and head to the kitchen. I open the refrigerator door and grab two cans of Hawaiian Sun: an Iced Tea for Phil and a Lilikoi for me. Carrying the cans back into the living room, I’m putting the two drinks on the coffee table when I hear three knocks on the door.

That bus ride was quick. I dash to the front door. Upon unlocking it, the face that greets me is one I least expect to see.

“Daniel.” The way he speaks my name has the familiar tenderness that would gravitate me into his arms when I was in elementary school. But hearing his voice now is a thousand needles stabbing at my heart all at once. My lungs shrivel at the pain scorching my chest.

I can’t breathe. My vision is blurring from months of pent-up resentment. Not knowing what to do, I back away and rush to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I collapse on the floor and bury my fingers in my hair. This cannot be happening to me.

A few minutes later, I hear the door swing open.

“Mate!” Phil kneels down in front of me, his face contorted into a concerned expression. “You look like rubbish.”

“No shit.”

“That guy at the door told me he’s your father. Is it true?”

I remove my hands from my head. How he could be staying so goddamn calm? He should be furious at me for lying to him, not composed and acting like I didn’t drop a bomb on him.

“He is,” I whisper.

“You said he was gone.” “He was, but he may as well be dead to me.”

“Why? What did he do to you?”

I swallow my anger threatening to rise again. “He left me, alright? He left my family for some woman named Erica he met on the streets while we were on vacation for the summer in the Philippines when I was nine. They were contacting each other behind our backs after we left and Mom caught ‘em together at Ala Moana a year later when Erica came to visit him. Mom and Dad ended up getting divorced the summer before I was in 7th grade, just shy of my 12th birthday. He left for the Philippines afterward and he’s been living there with Erica since.”

Phil doesn’t immediately respond, just staring at me in shock. I use his silence to continue my rant.

“Music is important to me because of my dad. He played all sorts of gigs when he was my age, but gave up his musician dream so he could support my mom when she was pregnant with me. He taught me how to play a guitar and got me into rock music when he told me rock is music in its rawest form.” I direct my attention to the vinyl cover of Muse’s Origins of Symmetry album nailed next to the window. “Dad’s the reason why I love that album. He bought it for me on my 7th birthday. I listened to that record on repeat after the divorce and was what got me through the first few year without him.”

“And you hadn’t seen him since the divorce,” Phil concludes.

I shake my head. “He came once during the holidays when I was in 9th grade. I pretty much avoided talking to him the whole time.”

The wake of a wildfire is outside of my bedroom. He’s the cause of why my family is a mess. He chose another woman over us. How can I forgive the man who destroyed my picture-perfect family? How can I let go of the hurt I’m still feeling four years later?

“I don’t blame you for not telling me,” Phil says.

I turn my head to look at Phil, vulnerability running through my veins. “I’m a horrible person. I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I kept it a secret because I didn’t want you to know how crappy my life really is.”

“Again, not blaming you.” He drapes his arm across my shoulders. “I get that you felt betrayed by your dad, and nothing can erase the pain you still feel. But he’s out there right now. He flew whatever miles it is from the Philippines to Hawaii to see you. Nothing’s hunky-dory between you two, but you can still fix things with him. I saw how crushed he looked when you ran off on him like that. He wants to make things right. I’m not saying you should outright forgive him, but I think you should give him a second chance. Let him be a father to you while he still has healthy lungs and isn’t in a wheelchair.”

I look into his eyes, his blue orbs looking back at me with a softness that douses my anger away. As tension rolls off my shoulders, the memory of his drunk confession flashes through my mind.

“Why did it have to be you I fell in love with?”

Did Dad or Erica ever speak the exact same sentence to each other at one point in their relationship? What was it about Erica that drew my dad to him? How did Dad know he loved Erica more than my mom? I don’t know the answer to those questions. I don’t know why Mom didn’t fight for her right to remain as Dad’s wife. I don’t know how Erica’s family reacted when they learned about her relationship with a married man. I don’t know much about their relationship, other than how they met and how they loved each other to a point of sacrificing their family’s trust to be with each other.

The clarity hits me like a curveball.

Love is an emotion that can’t be tamed. It can blind us, be an intense slap to the face, hurt us in any way possible, but it can never leave us completely empty. It’s why I’m still affected by my dad’s choices. It’s why I still prefer rock over any other genre of music, even when it was Dad’s preferred music style. It’s why there’s still fire raging inside me whenever I think about Dad. I still love him amidst the ache he imprinted in my heart. It’s why, as I gaze into Phil’s vibrant eyes that always seem to contain a gentleness I usually don’t see in males, I finally understand what I’ve been fearing all along. I wasn’t afraid of thinking about the past and making the same wrong choices as my dad; I was afraid of listening to the other side of a story and discovering things that may have been right in front of me all along.

“Go talk to him,” he murmurs, drawing his arm away from me. The loss of his friendly touch leaves a dull ache in my chest.

It’s time to face the music.

“Mind if you come with me?”

“Of course. Did you think I was planning to let you face him alone?”

Fireflies stir in my stomach. Once I deal with the person outside this room, I’ll think about what these fireflies mean. I don’t know why the fireflies popped up unexpectedly, but I sort of like it.

Phil helps me stand, staying close to me as I open the door. We walk into the living room, where I find Dad sitting on the sofa. I take a deep breath, my hand taking purchase on Phil’s arm. His presence is my gravity, helping me to control negativity in my emotions. If I’m going to make an effort to patch things up, I can’t go berserk if I feel the slightest agitation.

“Dad?”

I hear his breath hitch when he turns his head to the direction of my voice. Same dark chocolate eyes. Same unruly brunette hair. Same mole marked on the ridge of his nose. I’m looking at an older version of myself, albeit as someone wiser that has seen more of the world. That, and I can’t stand my natural messy hair. I can’t leave the house without using my hair straightener.

“Anak,” he says softly.

The fireflies glow for a brief second.

“It’s okay,” Phil whispers. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

Dad glances toward Phil. “This is your friend, right?”

Phil gives an awkward wave at Dad. “Hi. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier. I’m Phillip, Phil for short.”

“Phil … it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Howell.”

I can’t help the low chuckle that escapes my lips. “This isn’t Pride and Prejudice, dude.”

Phil laughs. “What? This is a momentous occasion, Dan. This is more nerve-wracking than making a first impression to my girlfriend’s parents.”

“You never even had a girlfriend.”

“I will one day.”

For some reason, I’m a bit upset by his response. So did his drunk confession mean nothing? Or is he making an Oscar-worthy ruse to cover up his feelings? My effort to analyze his emotions is only confusing me further.

Dad clears his throat. Right. Dad first, Phil later.

“Anyway-” I say, “Dad, what are you doing here all of a sudden? If you’re looking for Mom, she won’t be home from work till around six.”

“I’m aware of that. I actually wanted to talk to you first, if it’s okay,” Dad replies.

“Fine, but Phil stays with us.”

“I see no problem with that.”

Phil and I make our way over to the sofa, my hand still on Phil’s arm. Dad moves to give us room, leaving me to sit in the middle so Dad is to my left and Phil is to my right.

“Where’s Erica?” I begin.

Dad shakes his head. “I asked her to come, but she thought it would be best for me to be here alone.”

“How long will you stay?”

“A week, two weeks at the most.”

“Dad…” I move my hand from Phil’s arm to his jean-covered thigh. “Ummm… this might sound out of the blue, but how did you know you were in love with Erica?”

“Oh… to be honest, Jessica was the reason why,” he tells me sheepishly.

“Mom?” I say incredulously. “But… how?”

He smiles, leaning back on the sofa. “In many ways, Erica is a lot like your mother. She put her studies first, cared about her family more than anything else, and worked hard to give herself a good future. She became an attorney to provide for her family, and she cherishes her job so much, though she told me more than once she felt she was missing something from her life. She didn’t know what it was until she reunited with her childhood friend.”

“Who was that?”

“Your mother.”

“Wait… what? I thought Mom and Erica were strangers until you got together with Erica.”

“Your mother and I only said that because we thought you weren’t ready for the truth.”

“Dad! I was 11! I watched enough episodes of Maalala Mo Kaya to know what reality is about.”

He looks at me forlornly. “I know that now, anak. I’m sorry.”

I sigh. “I’m turning 17 next week. Whatever secret you’re keeping from me, I wanna hear it.”

He nods. The story he tells me drastically alters my perspective of Dad.

Mom and Erica knew each other because they were best friends when they were kids and lost touch with each other after Mom immigrated from Cebu to Honolulu when she was eight.

Dad courted Erica in high school. When he got accepted into an exchange program for the University of Hawaii in Manoa, he made a promise with Erica to go on a date with her once he graduated from college and moved back home.

During his third year at UH Manoa, he met Mom during an open mic night at a bar in Waikiki. Mom was in UH Manoa’s nursing program and skipped a night of studying to hang out with her friends at the bar that Dad had his gig at.

Mom and Dad became friends, which gradually turned into love.

Dad was guilty about breaking his promise to Erica, but Erica understood and she wished the best for him and Mom.

Parenthood treated Mom and Dad well when they had me and Adrian.

Then came the Philippine vacation.

Dad hadn’t communicated with Erica since he told her about his relationship with Mom, so he was surprised when he bumped into her at a Chow King restaurant while buying lunch for Mom, Adrian, and me. They exchanged phone numbers and used long-distance phone-lines for communication over the course of a year, where they found themselves revisiting their past and falling in love with each other all over again.

During winter break of my 5th grade year, Erica lied to her parents about wanting to spend Christmas and New Years with a friend in America so she could see Dad, even if it was just for a few days and a majority of her time would be spent cooped up in her hotel room at Ala Moana Hotel. On that fateful day when Mom saw Dad and Erica together, she was at Ala Moana Shopping Center to do some last-minute shopping while she supposedly thought Dad was helping my Tito Kevin pick out a gift for my Aunt Elizabeth. As soon as Mom exited from Macy’s, she witnessed Dad and Erica holding hands while sitting at one of the tables outside the neighboring Starbucks. Erica saw Mom and that was when all hell broke loose. Mom tried not to cause a scene at Ala Moana, but she had a crying fit when she learned that Dad’s mistress and her childhood friend, Erica Bautista, were the same woman.

That night, when I overheard my parents arguing but Mom told us she and Dad were disagreeing on something about bills, it was really about Mom’s reaction to finding out about the affair.

For months, they kept the issue a secret from Adrian and me. Mom swallowed her pride, staying in the sidelines as she encouraged Dad to go after his true love. The issue loomed like a raincloud over their heads once Dad chose Erica over Mom, and that raincloud lingered until Mom and Dad finally told me about Erica and their mutual decision to file for divorce.

Unfortunately, that raincloud only transferred over me, towering over my own head and remaining there to this day.

“Damn” is all I can say when Dad finishes speaking.

The pieces are coming together.

It was never supposed to be Mom and Dad.

If Dad never met Mom, it would have been Dad and Erica.

It’s a classic case of how wrong timing can affect even the strongest of relationships.

“Fucking hell,” Phil breathes. Hearing him swear surprises me. He rarely swears, and when he does, it’s when he’s incredibly emotional about something.

“I didn’t tell you this because I thought you might dislike Erica more if I told you the truth,” Dad tells me.

Everything coming out of Dad’s mouth sheds more authenticity to the entire situation. All this time, Dad was never at fault. It wasn’t his fault that Mom was an intervention who prevented him from keeping his promise to Erica. It wasn’t his fault for reaching a point where he had to choose between his wife and kids over a woman his heart subconsciously still yearned for. It wasn’t his fault for allowing his heart to direct him down a path that led him to hurt those he cared about. Everything happens for a reason, and it’s the reason why I’m existing in the first place. If his life went according to plan, I wouldn’t have ever taken my first breath in this world.

Love isn’t always kind. It isn’t an easy stroll through the park or a cookie to steal from a cookie jar. It’s having to pay 75 cents for a gumball from one of those machines in supermarkets or trying to find parking during Black Friday at any mall. Love always comes with a price. For Dad, the price for his happiness with one woman is the trust he has from those he loves the most.

“That was a possibility,” I say. “Or I could’ve appreciated her role in your life. We’ll never know. Either way, it wouldn’t have changed how much you love Erica.”

Dad nods in agreement. “Erica hasn’t changed how much I love you, Adrian, and your Mom. It was wrong of me to leave you how I did, but I’m here to right my wrong.”

The fire in my chest blazes more furiously than it ever has before. Flames send the fireflies in my stomach glimmering in a flurry of excitement, sending my emotions in a tailspin.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a good father ever since I moved to the Philippines,” Dad continues. “It wasn’t my intention for you to think I didn’t care about you anymore, but it was my way to give you space. You were angry at me, and I believed distance was the solution to ease your anger. When you refused to speak to me when I spent Christmas with you on your first year of high school, I realized the distance led you to resent me more. I don’t want to hurt you anymore, anak. I’m tired of being away from you. My life may be in the Philippines, but my heart belongs here with our family.”

My insides melt. These are the words I longed to hear Dad say. I’d be a fool if I ignored my subconscious whispering how I should stop being hostile and allow my dad to make up for lost time.

“Did you steal that line from a Justin Bieber song?” I joke.

Hope swims in Dad’s eyes. “So you forgive me?”

“Not… exactly,” I answer hesitantly. “But we have two weeks. We can go around the island like we used to.”

I’m not looking at the enemy anymore. For the first time in years, I’m looking at my idol, the man who rooted my dedication to music, the greatest hero I’ve ever known.

A smile cracks on Dad’s face. “Your old man is looking forward to that.”

~:~

Summers brings goodbyes, hope, and refreshing starts. Four years ago, summer was bidding a reluctant farewell to the perfect family I had. One year ago, summer was sharing my first kiss with a girl who meant more to me than my best friend. This summer, a new chapter with a man I granted a second shot at redemption opened up, and an opportunity to follow my heart like every protagonist in a cheesy YA novel is ushering in a wave of anticipation of what the vast unknown will bring.

The sky is enveloped by a murky blanket of gleaming stars and a moon illuminating the night. Sitting cross-legged on the rooftop of my apartment complex, I fish out another roll of Smarties from my jacket pocket. I unravel the plastic packaging and shove pieces of the colorful candy into my mouth, savoring its sweet, tangy mixture. Aside from the occasional car zooming along the streets at midnight, I relish the relative silence. My mind is still reeling over all the things that occurred since Dad showed up at the front door of my apartment.

The two weeks that Dad was here was a hodgepodge of family beach trips and father-son visits to various music stores around the island. He shared tales of his life with Erica in Manila, and in return, I shared my memories about Sam and my friends over the last four years. Those two weeks were us being mismatched pieces slowly fusing together to create the complete puzzle, with several holes that are yet to be filled. By the time he flew back to the Philippines, I was closer to the point of one hundred percent forgiving him. It’ll take me months before I can truly move on from the past, but I’m getting there. Time will tell when that day will come.

After Dad left, I took the time to figure out my feelings for Sam and Phil. Before I met Phil, I thought Sam was my endgame. I saw a future with her after high school. I visualized the two of us moving in together, having a beachside wedding, honeymooning in Paris, and raising our kids with our brown or black hair and brown eyes. But after Chris’s party and the long conversation I had with Dad, I questioned where my heart belonged. Sam was everything a boy could ever want for a girlfriend, someone who Mom was ecstatic about someday watching me say “I do” to, someone who filled that empty void when Dad left. Phil, on the other hand, was everything I never knew existed as an option for me, someone who enamored me since day one and opened up parts of me that I never showed to anyone aside from Sam, PJ, and Louise, someone who was the reason why I willingly mended my relationship with Dad.

I was confused. Do I choose safety with the anchor that has always kept me grounded, or do I choose happiness with the candle who sparked an incandescence within me that not even Sam or my friends were able to light up?

A few hours ago, on a park bench with the sun dipping down in the horizon, I broke up with Sam. It was a difficult choice that I nearly backed down from doing, but it was one Dad would be proud of me for doing. Being in a position of dumping my girlfriend made me understand why it was hard for Dad to divorce Mom. True love isn’t measured by years or the number of people that approve of the relationship; true love is the person who makes your heartbeat stutter and makes you smile to any love song that plays on the radio, no matter how cliché the lyrics are. Love is the fire that ignites your soul and what makes you the best person you can be.

Despite the tears that were shed, Sam understood. In fact, she had a hunch that Phil harbored feelings for me. She knew it was a matter of time before I caught on and braced herself for the feasible day where I could return his feelings. Following a friendly hug, we left the park knowing that even though we aren’t a couple anymore, our friendship will never fade. We’ve always been there for each other; we won’t let our breakup drive a wedge between us.

“Dan?”

I turn around. Phil stands behind me, his ruffled raven hair reflected under the moonlight and his blue irises flickering with uncertainty. We’re heading back to school next week, so my friends and I are spending our last few days of summer break with a weekend-long sleepover in my apartment.

“Yo.”

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods, then moves to sit directly across from me, mirroring my sitting position.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.

I chew the remaining chunks of Smarties in my mouth and swallow. “How can I? We’re seniors. We have one more year in high school before we’re thrust into adulthood and we’re little fishes trying to swim away from huge-ass sharks. Not that I’m ready to grow up, but my teen years are moving way too quick and I need time to slow down just a bit.”

He chuckles. “True. I’m not ready for senioritis to bite me in the bum yet. But I think that’s not what you’re really worried about.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You have a few candy wrappers next to you. You don’t binge-eat sweets unless you’re thinking really hard about something.”

He’s right. My sweet tooth is my version of stress-eating.

“You’re not wrong,” I say. “Truth is, you’re kinda the reason why I’m this close to getting a cavity.”

“How come?”

“Well… how else do you cope with realizing you love someone who’s so close yet so far beyond your grasp?”

“What? Dan, what Shojo anime have you been watching lately?”

“None. I just… God, I’ll just say it. I like you, Phil. I really, really like you and I might even love you, but I don’t know if I do yet ‘cause it’s too soon to tell.” I bend my legs so my knees are curled to my chest and my chin is on my kneecaps. “Fate is so screwed up. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, but I do. You’re strangely interesting and you get me so well. You’re the ying to my yang. You complete me, and I can’t live with the idea of seeing you with someone else. It’s so selfish of me since I already had Sam, but there’s something about you that wants you more than a friend. And… yeah.”

He blinks. “Whoa.”

“I know. Now let me down easy so we can forget I said any of that and I can start dealing with rejection.”

“Rejection? Dan, what are you, blind? I’ve loved you the moment you approached me and said, and I quote ‘I like your shirt.’”

“You still remember that?”

“How can I? It was love at first sight.”

“Love at first sight? This isn’t the 19th century.”

“Not according to the swiping on Tinder.”

I laugh. Being with Phil is easy. He’s carefree and doesn’t mind my wit. Even Sam has her occasions of being offended by my snark.

“I’m serious though. I do love you.” He leans closer, his hand reaching out to rest on top of mine. “I love how you can speak like a wise old philosopher. I don’t know how I went most of my life without you, because you’re what I was missing out on all this time. You came into my life with a purpose. I don’t know what I did to deserve you as a friend, but whatever it is, having you around made my life so much better.”

I look down at our entwined fingers. Holding his hand is comforting, a gesture that should be so wrong yet feels so right. This is what tadhana is. Destiny works in mysterious ways. As our fingers entwine, I’m reminded by how touching him soothed me when I spoke to Dad. He was my gravity then, and he’s my gravity now. The gravity is a force that’s much more powerful than I foresaw.

“Are you sure about this?” I murmur. “I’ve already hurt Sam. I don’t want to hurt you too if this doesn’t work out.”

“It will.” His eyes sharpen with conviction. “I won’t let anyone ruin what we have. Even if the universe hates what we are, I won’t ever hate you.” He releases my hands and maneuvers them to caress my cheeks. “I love you, Dan.”

I nod. Someday, I’ll be able to repeat those three words back to him.

Because when our lips meet and my stomach is churning with gentle waves, I’m certain that what Phil and I have is a fire that’ll never be extinguished.

What we have is real and here to stay.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

For any of you that read any of my former phanfics, I used a few lines from The Story of Us and Don’t You Wonder. I couldn’t resist using my one-liners while I wrote this.

Anak means “my son/daughter” and tadhana means “destiny.” I can’t speak Filipino fluently, but I do understand some of the language.

Maalala Mo Kaya is an ongoing Filipino TV series that showcases real-life stories of celebrities and average people like us. Dan’s family background was highly inspired by numerous eps I watched of MMK involving broken families.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed this! I had fun incorporating aspects of the “local” life in Hawaii, especially since the release of Pokemon Sun and Moon. If you haven’t tried a malasada, you should. There’s a reason why Hau loves ‘em. Don’t give spam such a hard time, because I eat spam musubi’s often and they’re delicious. And the bus system? Trust me, if you aren’t sure familiar with public transportation involving the bus system, you’re easily gonna get lost. Heaven knows how many tourists I witnessed questioning what bus to catch. Hell, even a local like me sometimes has to consult Google Maps to figure out what bus to ride.

Originally, I approached this story with a love triangle angle, but it was my professor who recommended I should try focusing on a father-son relationship instead. Best decision ever, because writing the story that way felt way more real.

~ AA

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