#oh my gosh logan what is your mug

[no-need-to-demonstrate-art]

The shave of champions, of heroes! 

(Virgil’s shirt says “This is as Jolly as I Get”)

@thatsthat24  

#let the boy shave in peace #get out roman virgil has to pee #oh my gosh logan what is your mug #sanders sides #sanders sides art #sanders sides fanart #sanders sides comics #sanders sides incorrect quotes #roman sanders #roman sanders fanart #roman sanders art #virgil sanders #virgil sanders art #virgil sanders fanart #logan sanders #logan sanders art #logan sanders fanart #prinxiety #prinxiety art #prinxiety fanart

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

You’re Not Alone

heartwitchhouse request: Hey uh.. can I get Logan introducing Thomas to neurodivergent communities online?

Sure you can, babe! Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3  

Pairings: none

Warnings: also...none? there’s some discussion on having anxiety, depresion, and ADHD with some self-doubt but it’s not that bad

Word Count: 2899

It’s just a little off.

 It’s not like it’s some big obvious thing that his parents immediately took notice of. It’s not something his doctor noted on his sheet and made sure to talk about. It’s not even something one of his teachers gently pulled him aside for.

 It’s just…not quite right.

He knows that his classmates don’t struggle to stare at the board or their work for like…three minutes at a time, but he also knows one of his classmates who can’t do it for three seconds. He knows the others don’t lapse into gray hazes where doing literally anything feels like an insurmountable force, but he also knows the kids that can’t even come to school on certain days.

 He knows people who are better, but he also knows people who are worse.

 He has good days. Great days. Great weeks, even. It’s just…sometimes he’ll have a bad day and he can’t help but look at everybody else who’s having a worse day.

 And here’s the thing. He knows how to work through it.

 He can put his head down and just get things done. It doesn’t matter that he can’t focus for more than three minutes, he’ll do the work he can in those three minutes and then move onto something else. Maybe he’ll get to cycle back and pick it up again later. He can shake his head to clear it and squint at his work again, just to finish this one page through the haze. He can make it.

 But it’s just that; making it.

 He can’t deny the way the polite smile from his teachers settles heavily in the pit of his stomach saying that yeah, he did fine, but he could’ve done better. The way the list of things he needs to do gets checked off by just the bare minimum, something he’s going to have to redo in just a few days, makes his hands itch. The insecurities over all the things he could have done, could have done better, all the things he’s missed, pile up in his brain until he has to shove them all away just to breathe on bad days. But doesn’t everyone struggle with insecurity now and then? This is normal, right?

 Or is it just a little off?

 “Oh, I’m sure you’d feel better if you just exercised more! Get yourself a workout schedule, there’s no better free therapy!”

 Running makes his chest feel like it’s going to explode. His arms and legs ache after the first round of whatever ‘beginner’ program he decides to try once. The gray haze only flourishes, steady as ever on bad days.

 “Just focus on your studies, I’m sure once you’ve got more structure in your life it’ll help you feel better, sweetie.”

 Work pounds into his head and he gets it done. All the things he could’ve done better stay there too, bold and bright on the page next to red slashes of ink. He puts his head down and goes, goes, goes. That doesn’t help the bad days, it just pushes them off. Then they get worse.

 “Maybe you just need to go outside more often, sunlight can do wonders for you!”

 Listen. He and the sun have an agreement. The sun doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like the sun. It’s better if they just…stay out of each other’s way. He could do without the achy headaches the bright light gives him.

 “Are you sure you’re drinking enough water? Are you eating the right stuff?”

 His budget quickly becomes strained with the amount of ‘healthy food’ he’s supposed to buy. The piles of ‘proper ingredients’ sit in his cabinet, unused, taunting him with how difficult it’ll be to figure out how to eat them. The guilt over not using them worries at his throat as he’s forced to toss them out as they go bad. He gets raised eyebrows from everyone with how often he has to go to the bathroom. The ensuing doctor’s visit is one he’d rather not repeat any time soon, even though at that point it’s just…you know those days where you’re like ‘this might as well happen? Adult life is already so goddamn weird?’

 “At least you can get out of bed most days. You seemed fine yesterday!”

 …yesterday was yesterday. And just because he got out of bed doesn’t mean anything. It wasn’t really a conscious choice, he just…had to do it.

 “You’re not nearly as bad as—“

 You know, it doesn’t really matter who they put at the end of that. The point is he’s not as bad as other people. So he doesn’t get the support that they get.

 He doesn’t get the polite nods from professors when he needs an extension. He doesn’t get the medication prescribed to him for something that he shouldn’t need because he’s ‘healthy.’ When he finally tries therapy, the therapist compliments him on how easily he’s able to hold a conversation, maintain eye contact, and asks him if he’s tried keeping a diary.

 During the nights when he can’t sleep, when the blankets feel way too rough, like sleeping on sandpaper that rubs persistently at his skin, he tosses and turns and thinks…would it be better if…

 Would it be better if it were worse?

 If it were more obvious, if he actually had depression, anxiety, ADHD, something with a name that people could recognize, or even just the freedom to say he had something…would that be better?

 He doesn’t cry every day. He can still feel things most of the time. He eats. He drinks water. He sleeps. He goes outside. He doesn’t get high or drink or do anything to try and numb the pain or escape it. He doesn’t have suicidal thoughts.

 But it still feels like he’s not quite right.

 If he were worse…people would be more sympathetic. He wouldn’t be accused of milking anything for attention. He wouldn’t get scolded for making light of other people’s problems. He wouldn’t be faking it. Is he faking it? Is he blowing it up out of proportion?

 Is it really as bad as he thinks it is?

 He finds the perfect metaphor almost by accident. He’s over at a friend’s house one day and they’re in the kitchen, getting hot chocolate to drink before starting their movie night. He opens the cupboard and pulls out a mug with flowers all over it. As he turns to give it to his friend, he notices a chip in the rim.

 “Oh, oh gosh, I, um, I’m sorry—“

 “What? What’s wrong?” His friend takes the mug from his stuttering hands and squints at it. Her brow smooths out and she laughs. “Oh, are you worried about the chip?”

 “…yeah. I don’t—I don’t think I did it?”

 “You didn’t,” she says easily, filling it with hot milk, “it’s always been like that.”

 “Oh, okay.” The black fuzzy things buzzing about his head settle at that as he leans back against the counter, ready to accept the mug of hot chocolate. It’s warm, pleasantly so, sending a rush of contentment up his arms as he cups his palms around it. “Where’s yours?”

 “I’m almost done!”

 He looks back down at the hot chocolate, shimmering brown with the kitchen light’s reflection. Tilting his head, he examines the chip in the ceramic. It’s not that big, barely noticeable, but there’s a sharp edge on the inside. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t drink from that side. Wouldn’t do to burn his tongue and accidentally cut his lip.

 “Alright! I’m ready, let’s—ah!”

 Her yelp startles him out of whatever hot-chocolate-drinking-planning haze he’d been in, only to see his friend staring at the floor with her hands over her mouth.

 “Hey, whoa, are you okay? What happened?”

 “I, um—“ oh, no, she sounds so upset, let’s help her!— “I dropped my mug.”

 Sure enough, as he hustles around the counter, he sees the broken mug, lying on the floor, hot chocolate spilling mockingly from the remains. He sets his mug—carefully!—on the counter, looking around for the paper towels.

 “Did you get hurt?”

 “What?” Her gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “No, no, it’s just…that was my favorite mug.”

 A horrible sadness settles in his chest as he looks at her and he gently knocks their elbows. “It looks like it’s still got some pretty big pieces, we could…maybe we could fix it?”

 “You came over here to watch movies, not to fix my mug.”

 “We can do both, can’t we?”

 So there they end up, with the lights on, newspaper spread on the floor, hot glue gun, superglue, carefully piecing together broken ceramic as Finding Nemo plays in the background. By the time the seagulls are all racing around the screen, frantically yelling ‘mine!’ they’ve set the now-fixed mug gingerly on the counter, out of harm’s way, and cleaned up all the spilled hot chocolate. As the night creeps on, their eyes growing heavier and heavier, they make it through Mulan, The Princess and the Frog, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. Just before they start The Black Cauldron, his friend gently taps the side of the mug.

 “…I think it’s fixed!”

 “Wait, really? That was fast!”

 “Dude, it was like…at least six hours ago.”

 “Is that how fast superglue sets?”

 “Have you never used superglue before?”

 “Hey!”

 The sight of his friend with her favorite mug cradled in her lap makes him smile as he turns his attention back to the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her talking softly to herself, saying how she promises to be more careful next time, how she’s so happy the mug is fixed, it’ll be better now, stronger this time. And yet she still cradles the cracked, seamed thing with the same tenderness she did when they first picked up the pieces.

 He looks back down at the chipped mug in his lap. The chip is so small. It’s barely noticeable. It doesn’t make the mug leak or anything. The mug still works as a mug.

 He runs his thumb over the rim, feeling just the slightest pressure when he runs over the chip. If he tried to drink from that side, it would hurt.

 She’s had this mug for…years?

 He looks back over at the mug in his friend’s lap.

 The broken mug gets fixed.

 The chipped mug stays chipped forever.

  “Thomas?”

 Thomas blinks, looking up from his lap to see Logan standing next to him. Logan adjusts his tie.

 “You took a moment to respond.”

 “Sorry. Did we, uh, are we late for something? Did I miss a deadline?”

 There’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it expression that flitters across Logan’s face. Then he adjusts his glasses and it’s gone. Thomas frowns.

 “…you okay, bud? What was that?”

 “What was what, Thomas?”

 “You, uh, you made a face.”

 “I have a face, Thomas, we all have faces.”

 “But you made an expression.”

 “…I believe I am…incapable of not making an expression.”

 “Logan,” Thomas sighs, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

 Well, he certainly takes him by surprise at any rate. Logan glances around—is he worried the others are going to show up?—and adjusts his glasses again.

 “I suppose I was…perturbed,” he settles on finally, “that your immediate assumption when I appeared was that I was going to…reprimand you in some way.”

 Oh. “Jeez, um, sorry, Logan, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 Logan waves him off. “It’s quite alright.”

 “But…no, it’s not.” Thomas shakes his head. “You…we gotta talk about this…more, but that’s not the only thing you’re important for. You know that, right?”

 …well, Logan’s certainly making a face now. It’s the same one he made after Remus first appeared, after Thomas called him ‘cool.’ After a moment of savoring Logan looking a little flustered, he prompts him gently.

 “Did you wanna talk about something?”

 “Right,” Logan says quickly, shaking himself, “do you remember our conversation about neurodivergent communities?”

 Right. They’d been talking about trying to find therapists during COVID and how it would be difficult since, y’know…going outside is more than kind of a no-no. Virgil had brought up how it’s almost impossible to get a good read on whether or not a therapist would be appropriate for them without a proper appointment, which…kind of led to everyone agreeing that maybe it would be better to try just the texting one first. Logan had mentioned trying to find a group of people to talk to, not just a single person, until Janus said something about not knowing how to navigate something like that.

 Not one of their more productive conversations.

 “Since your desire to try and see a therapist seems to have stagnated,” Logan says as Thomas nods, “I have found an alternative solution that I believe might be more suited to your current approach to your mental health problems.”

 “I don’t—Logan, I don’t have—“

 The look Logan levels at him is enough to get him to shush.

 “What’s the solution?”

 “One of the main obstacles for finding a therapist or seeking help in a group setting was an unawareness of how to properly navigate those dynamics, correct?” Thomas nods. “Then it seems that a solution would be to simply find a group where you do understand the dynamics, yes?”

 “…how do I do that?” Thomas scruffs a hand through his hair. “I—look, I…I get that I should talk to someone, we made that clear but it’s just—I don’t—“

 Logan waits patiently, his head tilted slightly, as Thomas struggles for words.

 “…it’s not that bad,” Thomas says lamely.

 “But we’ve established that—“

 “I know, I know,” Thomas groans, burying his head in his hands, “but it’s just like—I don’t think I belong there.”

 “Why not?”

 “Isn’t that for people who have it worse?”

 There must be some note of hysteria in that last word because Logan blinks and eases himself down onto the couch next to him, folding his hands in his lap and waiting patiently. When it’s clear Thomas isn’t going to be able to make words go for a while, he clears his throat.

 “You don’t want to join a space in which you are not welcome, correct?”

 Thomas nods miserably.

 “This idea that you will not be welcome stems from the idea that your problems are not…severe enough?”

 “Aren’t they?”

 “Why must they be more severe for you to seek help?”

 “I don’t know, I just—what if they think I’m faking?”

 “Are you?”

 That’s the kicker, isn’t it? When Thomas looks helplessly at Logan, uncertainty probably written plainly all over his face, Logan tilts his head.

 “If you have to ask whether or not you’re faking,” he says in a soft voice Thomas rarely hears, “it’s almost certain that you are not.”

 Thomas just nods dumbly.

 “Mental illnesses can manifest in a variety of ways,” Logan continues in that same soft voice—and anyone who says Logan doesn’t understand emotion can get out—“and you do not have to fulfill a certain standard of ‘bad’ in order to seek help.”

 “But then how do I find people to—who will—who are gonna—“

 “…understand?”

 “Yeah.”

 Logan’s mouth quirks up. “When was the last time you were on Tumblr?”

 Thomas blinks. “Excuse me? Also don’t you know that?”

 “I do.” Logan gestures to Thomas’s phone. “You wanted a space where you understand how to interact with people and where talking about these types of things will not be a drastic breach of boundaries, yes?”

 “…yeah?”

 “You would be surprised at the amount of neurodivergent communities online.”

 “So why’re you asking me about Tumblr?” The second it comes out of his mouth Thomas’s eyes widen. “Logan—“

 “I am not suggesting that be your only source of help, by any means,” Logan says quickly, “but it might serve as a good starting point. You know what is to be expected from Tumblr—relatively speaking,” he corrects when Thomas makes a face, “and it will help you see that, despite what you may think, you’re not alone.”

 Logan stands, giving Thomas one last look before he sinks out.

 “…and you don’t have to be grateful it isn’t worse, Thomas.”

 Thomas looks down at his phone. He opens the app and types something into the search bar.

 Logan was right. People…people talk about stuff on Tumblr. Admittedly, it’s Tumblr, so it’s an absolute hellsite, but there is something a little reassuring about being able to just…word vomit into a post and see other people doing the same.

  Friendly reminder that people’s symptoms are gonna manifest in different ways and you’re not allowed to judge someone who experiences something different than you

  REMINDED THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO GRATEFUL THAT THINGS AREN’T WORSE WE DO NOT PLAY THE PAIN OLYMPICS IN THIS HOUSE

  You’re not alone.

 He’s still gonna have to figure out how to find a therapist. He’s still gonna have to figure out how to talk about this kind of stuff.

But for now, he can sit here and scroll and realize that there are words he can use to describe these things and it finally might start feeling right.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @marshmallow-fluffy @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thefingergunsgirl @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @such-a-dumbass

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know ^_^

#sanders sides #character thomas #logan sanders #dragonbabbles #fic

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 5: Logicality

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 5 - Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Content Warning: strong emotion (duh), yelling, food mentions (one line).

Word count: 1.8k

He remembered back in high school, when things had gotten rough for him. Not that they had a reason to. Virgil had told him countless times that it was okay that he didn’t have a reason, he was allowed to feel sad just because, but his childhood friend’s words meant nothing during the times he was curled up on his bed at three am with a black hole in his chest, quietly sobbing apologies to the soulmate that could certainly feel his sadness as intensely as he did. If it was just him suffering, it wouldn’t have been so bad. 

When university began, and his mental health began to improve, Patton was giddy. It took him a few months to adjust to missing his family, getting used to the crowded dorms, and the increased pressure of classes. Except now the classes were about things he really enjoyed, clearly pushing him forward in his Psychology career, and the people were so much nicer than in highschool. Bullies didn’t really… exist in college, not the way they did back there, and he found himself flourishing. 

But now, no longer constantly focused on his mental health and that alone, a part of him, deep inside, was a little bit worried that he didn’t even have a soulmate. He never really felt the strong emotions his friends claimed to feel, emotions clearly detached from them but oh so real. Virgil was privy to spurts of pure courage, almost ecstasy, that would have him jumping off his bed to pace on the floor with a huge grin stretched across his face, trying to dispel the energy. Janus, a friend he made in one of his psych classes, sometimes talked about the negative emotions he got from his soulmate, the surges of hatred and bitterness that made him curl his slender fingers around the nearest object until it snapped or his fingers cramped up. The borrowed emotion, both good and bad, were something Patton hadn’t experienced yet, and the implications of that frightened him. He wanted a soulmate so badly… he would be crushed if he didn’t have one.

These were the thoughts rushing through his mind as the three of them walked into Philosophy 109, Virgil and Janus having an animated conversation about last classes homework. Something about Karl Marx; he wasn’t sure what they were torn about, exactly. He always had a tough time listening in this class, not due to the content of the lectures, but just because something about the prof set him on edge. Virgil offered that ‘his voice is kind of irritating’ and Janus pitched in that ‘his slides are always sloppy’, but none of that was quite… it. It wasn’t anything he could put a finger on, but just walking into the classroom had him stewing slightly. 

Just as Janus was seemingly reaching the peak of his arguments, hands waving wildly, Virgil dug his elbow into Patton’s ribs.

“Hey, did you want to get dinner after class or wait until before English?”

The elbow in his side hurt, and before he realized what he was doing, Patton had shoved Virgil off of him. The shorter man stumbled, nearly knocking into the professor that had just walked into the room before catching his balance. His brows furrowed.

“Dude, you good?” 

Patton’s eyes widened, almost comically, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil glanced at Janus, who merely shrugged, “Class is about to start.” He gestured meekly at their usual table and they sat, Patton taking the aisle spot before Janus could. Another look was shared between the other two. Patton was usually overly eager to sit in the middle, giggling at Virgil’s snarky notes and stealing Janus’ snacks, but right now he felt on edge. Defensive. Angry. 

Huh- that was new.

His leg shook under the table as the professor greeted the class, nearly knocking Virgil’s travel mug off the table if it weren’t for his quick reflexes. He was running frantically through his mind, trying to find the trigger that had caused his anger. The day so far had been nothing unusual; morning classes and lunch at the cafeteria (grilled cheese, heck yeah), study session with the dorm in the lawn outside his building. Nothing had gone wrong, and even if this prof wasn’t his favorite, it wasn’t anything he couldn't get over so why-

Oh.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that these weren’t his feelings. This wasn’t him. And that thought alone should have snapped him out of it, should have made him jump up and dance on the table because oh my goodness he actually has a soulmate, his worries were for nothing!

Except he couldn’t. Virgil’s concerned glances were increasing in frequency as his pen dug into his paper, trying his hardest to concentrate on the lecture over the raging blood in his ears. His teeth hurt, and he realized he was clenching his jaw hard enough to bite through rock. His leg still jittered, his notes were becoming more sloppy, and for the love of god, if this prof doesn’t stop talking I’m going to-

“WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY?”

At first, Patton thought he was the one who said it. His note paper had been ripped from his notebook, crumpled beneath his fist, and Virgil and Janus sure both looked shocked enough. But then the voice continued, coming from the back of the class.

“You’re a terrible professor, are you aware of that?! Did you get your teaching degree from a fucking Dollar Store?! I’m surprised you graduated middle school, you half-witted, socially insensitive, entitled, piece of-”

“Mr. Starr, out of my classroom! Now!” The prof bellowed, causing Virgil to shrink into his hoodie. The man flew past the three of them, slamming the door behind him. Patton didn’t even realize he was following him, water bottle in hand, until the prof tried to call him back to his seat, which he ignored. 

That was his soulmate, he was sure of it. 

By the time he was standing in the empty hallway, his rage had started to calm down. His hand was starting to unfurl, leaving red crescents in his palms from his nails, but he could still feel the simmering anger rolling and lapping at his insides. Curling around his stomach, pushing at his heart, twisting in his fingertips like a flag in a gentle wind. 

A slam down the hallway reminded Patton of what he’d set out to do, and he took off after the sound, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t lose the man he was chasing. After that freak-out, he wouldn’t be surprised if the man dropped the class, since he obviously hated the prof so much. And he didn’t get a good enough look at him, so if he lost him now, who’s to say when he would find him again? 

Patton exited the building, assuming this was the door he’d heard a moment ago, panting slightly. He surveyed the parking lot desperately, the lawn surrounding the building, the walkways leading across the campus like vines, and… yes! There he was, standing against one of the trees, head tucked to his chest, hands shoved into his pockets almost aggressively. 

This is stupid, what are you even going to say? He pondered as he crossed the grass quickly, sizing up the man in front of him. Black button up, blue jeans, hair pushed out of his face, and Patton was reminded of just how gay he was. This man was gorgeous, in an I-could-kill-you kind of way. 

He didn’t acknowledge Patton as he approached, but he could see the man watching him out of the corner of his eye suspiciously. Wordlessly, Patton handed him the bottle of water, trying to hide a smile when he took it hesitantly, popping the top off and taking a sip.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Patton squeaked, taking it back when he was done.

“I didn’t expect anyone to follow me.”

“Well…” He gestured to himself lightly, giggling, “I’m here.”

The man stood his ground, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention, “You don’t have to stay. I wouldn’t want you to fall behind.”

“Nonsense!” Patton grinned, “I’ll just steal a friend’s notes. Plus, I’m sure you need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t want to bother you-”

“I’m not bothered! I’m serious. Sit down.” Patton gestured at the ground, flopping down onto the lawn. He looked at him warily, like he was weighing the pros and cons in his head, before joining him, leaning against the tree.

“I’m Patton, by the way.”

“Logan.” 

“Nice to meet ya, Logan! So, why d'ya scream at Jacobson like that?” He said it lightly, but he didn’t miss the slight wince from the other. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m not generally one to lose my temper. It’s just…” He looked like he wanted to apologize more, stop talking, like he was being a nuisance. Patton gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and a nod, which seemed to be enough to spur the other on.

 “I can’t stand him. He injects his own philosophies and values into the concepts we’re studying, and it muddles the main ideologies to the point where it’s hardly about the original topic anymore. It’s as if he’s teaching a course on himself.”

“Why don’t you just drop it?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so cutting, but if Logan was bothered, he didn’t show it in the small shake of his head.

“I need the credit. And by the time I realized how flawed his lessons are, it was past the drop date. I didn’t have time to fill out the paperwork, so I figured I’d muscle through it.”

“Well… it is half way through the semester, so you did pretty good.”

He murmured something under his breath that Patton didn’t catch, something that sounded suspiciously like ‘not good enough’, before looking up to meet Patton’s eyes for the first time. Boy oh boy, if Patton hadn’t been able to breathe before, he was fairly certain he would die at this point. 

“Why did you follow me?”

It was at that point that it occurred to Patton: he had no proof. Sure, the rise and peak of his mysterious anger coincided perfectly with Logan’s outburst, but if their interaction so far was anything to go by, this guy wouldn’t fully trust something that wasn’t one hundred percent factual. Claiming to be his soulmate might just scare him away, and for all that was good and holy, Patton didn’t want that to happen. So… he’d waited nineteen years to meet his soulmate, he could take it slow. Bring up his history with depression, the emotions that Logan must have felt at the same time, and maybe, hopefully, let him come to his own conclusions. He wasn’t in a rush.

“I just thought you might want a friend.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #sanders sides #logicality #patton sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssides #ts soulmate au

[notveryglittery]

hope sweet hope (like a star burning bright)

summary: logan and virgil are stuck in a forest of pine trees. roman's gonna fix that. (patton's going to be proud of the pun i made in this summary.) ships: analogical (pining/romantic), royality (established/romantic) wc: 2.4k / warnings: overstimulation/panic attack (brief) notes: happiest of birthdays to @lovevirgil​ <3 (title from “hope” by remedy) (written in present tense!!) 

read on ao3 | @fandersfic-analogical​

—————————

Usually, overstimulation is the least of Virgil’s problems. During the day, it’s paranoia and anxiety; at night, it’s nightmares and thinking too much. Sometimes, he feels too little and he needs heavy reminders that he’s still solid and real. Feeling too much might happen in the middle of a panic attack but at that point, he’s already got so much going on, he barely notices.

He isn’t even doing anything particularly overwhelming when it hits. He’s just opening a jar of Crofter’s when something crashes above him. The noise is startlingly loud, he’s not sure what it is or where it comes from, and the sound of glass shattering on the floor at his feet doesn’t help. He grabs onto the counter, breaths coming suddenly in short gasps.

Before Virgil can even think of what to do next, Logan is standing in front of him. He’s taken one of Virgil’s hands in his own and the other is holding his elbow as he guides them towards the small dining table. He's talking, voice low and soothing, but Virgil can’t make any of the words out. Something heavy drops onto his shoulders and despite jolting in surprise at first, the sensation quickly chases away most of his nerves.

He isn't sure how much time passes before his hands are wrapped around something warm. By now, his surroundings have gone mercifully quiet. Even still, the sound of the faucet turning off makes him flinch; he hadn’t realized the white noise was the water running. Mechanically, he drinks from the mug he’s holding. By the time he’s fully settled back into himself, Logan is sitting at the table with him, going over his agenda.

“Sorry,” Virgil says automatically.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Logan reassures him.

Virgil looks to see that the jam and glass has been cleaned up, as if it never happened at all. He drinks again from his mug but the tea has gone cold. He glances up to the ceiling, trying to figure out what had set him off earlier.

“It’s the tenants above us,” Logan says, closing his planner.

Virgil realizes suddenly that Logan is sans scarf. No matter the season, Logan without fail wears his scarf in the dorms. He must be squinting, as if looking for the missing garment, because Logan just smiles.

“Rock paper scissors to see who has to go talk to them for being too loud?”

They tie on every match and it’s just more proof to Virgil that they’re meant to be, as stupid as that sounds. Yeah, might as well call Virgil a tree because boy is pining. They head out of their room, down the hall, and up the stairs. It’s not hard to find the culprits they’re looking for given that they’re still making quite a lot of noise.

Before Virgil can prepare himself for confrontation, Logan is knocking on the door.

The racket stops immediately. A few seconds later, they can hear voices going back and forth. If the students are trying to whisper, they’re failing miserably.

“What if it’s the RA?” one asks.

“Well then we’re in big trouble unless we can hide her somehow!” responds the other in far too hopeful a tone.

“Last time we did that, she knocked over my trophies shelf!”

“Yes, honey, I remember, it was barely an hour ago.”

Logan and Virgil share a look.

“We’re not the resident assistant,” Logan says loudly.

The voices quiet again.

“That sounds exactly like something a resident assistant would say!” the first one calls back.

There's the sound of footsteps approaching and Virgil can only assume they’re using the peephole to see who is at the door.

“Oh!”

Several things happen at once.

The door opens, revealing probably the softest looking individual Virgil has ever seen. Next, a blur of black darts out of the room, at Virgil’s legs, up his torso, and into the fabric wrapped around his shoulders. Finally, someone asks “isn’t that the scarf you wear all the time?”

“Aw,” coos the one who’d answered the knock. “Pixie likes you!”

“It is,” Logan replies, clearing his throat. “That is besides the point. Earlier, you made quite a commotion. We’re here to ask if you could refrain from doing so again.”

“That was not our fault!” exclaims the one wearing a thick maroon sweater that reminds Virgil of the Weasley’s.

As it is, he’s distracted plenty by the purring kitten curled up in Logan's scarf. That's a question for later, especially because if he starts thinking about how he’s wearing Logan's clothes, he’ll combust. The cat (Pixie?) is warm and soft. Virgil carefully scratches between her ears.

“Oh, I'm Patton!” says the pastel one. “They/them, please. We’re so sorry if we scared you!”

“Roman,” grumbles the redhead, “he/him. As I said already, it’s not our fault! Pixie is just… well—” He pauses to gesture at Virgil, who can hardly focus with the way it feels having the kitten rumbling against his chest like a mini-engine. “... Wily.”

“Gosh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cozy up to someone so fast.” Patton says. It looks like there are stars in their eyes.

If Virgil were paying any attention, he’d notice Logan's expression looking much the same. He's still pretty out of it, though, and he’s kind of confused right now with the mischievous grin on Roman’s face.

“Come in!” Roman suggests suddenly, wrapping an arm around Patton’s waist and pulling them close to his side. “The least we could do is offer some cocoa!”

“Roman makes the best hot chocolate,” Patton says, nodding. “Besides, I don't know how easy it’ll be trying to take Pixie from you…”

“Ah, where are my manners,” Logan mutters. “Logan and Virgil, he/him for the both of us. We live just below you.”

Patton grimaces. “Oh, that must have been so loud… please let us make it up to you?”

Virgil is stepping into the room before anyone else can speak. He's still pretty transfixed by Pixie, who has started to knead the scarf with her little paws.

“I suppose we accept, then,” Logan said, sighing in a way that is exasperated and fond all at once.

Virgil sinks into the love seat in the living area, careful not to jostle Pixie. Logan hesitates, not finding anywhere else to sit.

“Apologies,” Roman says, not sounding apologetic at all. He nudges Logan closer to the only available spot. “Patton and I aren't shy about personal space.”

Logan scowls at Roman, who is grinning cheekily as he joins Patton in the kitchen. Still, he sits down next to Virgil. “She seems quite fond of you.”

“I love her,” Virgil says, hushed. He's definitely starstruck.

Logan has no warning, no time to retreat to higher ground, and so the tsunami of affection washes over him without remorse. For a moment, he drowns in his unspoken feelings; the weight of it nearly pushes him under until he has no choice but to let it all spill out, regardless of the consequences.

“Do you like marshmallows?!” Patton’s voice asks from over his shoulder.

“Loves ‘em,” Virgil answers for him. “The big ones, if you have those.”

Logan hopes the blush doesn’t look as obvious as it feels.

“Do you wanna hold her?” Virgil asks suddenly, turning finally to look at Logan. He reels back, apparently not having realized how close they were sitting.

“Sure,” Logan says, awkwardly holding his hands out.

Virgil huffs in that quiet-laugh sort of way Logan likes so much. He takes Logan's wrists and rearranges his position so that his arms are cradled against his chest. Slowly, Virgil removes Pixie from the scarf-nest and into Logan's hold. She snuffles a little before settling in the crook of his elbow.

“Oh,” Logan whispers.

“Seriously?!” They hear Roman exclaim from the archway into the kitchen. When he notices that they’ve noticed him, he jumps, and disappears from view.

Still, just because they can’t see him doesn’t mean they can’t hear him. Roman doesn’t really understand what it means to be discreet, unfortunately.

“They’re just making heart eyes at each other!” Roman hisses, sounding agonized. “I’ve known them for five minutes and even I can tell that they’re in love!”

Virgil has never felt so hot in his entire life. 

“Roman, shh,” Patton hushes him.

Logan is pretty much frozen.

Three terribly long minutes pass before Patton comes out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with four mugs on it. “I hope y’all aren’t lactose intolerant! We use milk and creamer so it’s extra smooth.”

“Hey, how come you recognized Logan's scarf?” Virgil blurts as Roman joins them.

“Well, he wears it everywhere, doesn’t he?” Roman asks, taking his mug. “At least, I’ve never seen him in the dorm building without it on.”

“Hence why everywhere isn’t entirely accurate,” Logan corrects, accepting a mug from Patton.

“Still, must mean a lot if you have it on so often. Can’t imagine you’d share it with just anybody.” Roman sips loudly from his mug, holding eye contact with Logan.

Virgil begrudgingly takes one of the drinks, knowing he can’t possibly enjoy it now that he feels like he’s dying of heatstroke.

“Well, Virgil isn’t just anybody,” Logan says simply, as if it’s obvious.

It’s a miracle Virgil doesn’t spill all over the scarf, the stupid comfortable soft thing that means a lot to Logan, which, well, what does it mean that Logan's letting him wear it now? Sure, right after the noise-induced panic attack is all fine and good, but why hasn’t he asked for it back yet?

“Kiddo, your ‘mallows are melting,” Patton stage-whispers.

Virgil takes such a big, sudden gulp of hot cocoa that he burns the roof of his mouth. “So how long have you two been roomies?” He rasps.

“Oh!” Patton exclaims, wiggling a little from where they’ve sat criss cross applesauce on the floor. “Well, for forever, really!”

“We shared a room at an orphanage,” Roman explains. “We were lucky to be adopted by neighbors, who were very kind and let us have sleepovers frequently.”

“He’s my best friend,” Patton says soppily, blowing a kiss at Roman.

“And they’re my soulmate,” Roman continues, catching the kiss and pressing it to his heart.

“Gross,” Virgil responds, sticking his tongue out.

“That is… something.” Logan says slowly, thoughts very far away as he imagines what it would have been like if he’d been lucky enough to meet Virgil earlier on in life.

“How about you two?” Patton prompts.

“Met junior year,” Virgil replies, “hit it off pretty quick.”

“When it turned out we had applied for the same colleges, it was clear some things are meant to be.”

“Did you just use a love song to describe your relationship with Virgil?” Roman asks, delighted.

“What?”

“What?” Virgil echoes.

“Ro!” Patton scolds, as if this isn’t the first time he’s had to be reprimanded for meddling.

Roman is grinning like the damn cheshire cat. Virgil is sure he’s as bright as the roses painted red and he’d very much like out of this mad cocoa party, thank you kindly.

“Well, this was fun,” he says loudly, setting his mug down on the end table. “I'm exhausted, though, good night!” And with that, he gets up (after a moment of struggling, as if the tiny couch is determined to hold him hostage) and heads for the door.

He can hear Patton scrambling up, as if to follow, but someone else is at his back first.

“It was a pleasure meeting you both. Please do keep it down in the future.”

It figures Logan would be the one to follow him out, not because they came here together or because they’re roommates or anything, but because Logan always, without fail, is there to look out for him. Oh god, Virgil is going to die.

He doesn’t realize he’s running his hands over the scarf until he’s halfway down the staircase where he misses a step and doesn’t catch the railing in time and oh good, he’s really just having the best night, isn’t he—

A hand catches the back of his sweater and pulls.

He lands hard, probably bruising his tailbone, but his elbows are caught, and instead of falling back and possibly hitting his head, he lands against something sturdy and warm. He tilts back, looking up, and, oh good, his night is getting better and better—

“Are you okay?” Logan asks breathlessly.

“What do you… am I... are you serious?”

“I’m sorry if i’ve made you uncomfortable,” Logan says sincerely, letting go now that Virgil isn’t in danger of getting hurt. Logan even scoots up a step so that Virgil can have his space. Virgil realizes he's no longer carrying Pixie, which should be obvious, but he already kinda misses her.

“L, what are you going on about?”

“Back there, some of the things I said, they were… I didn’t think them through.” He looks away, reaching towards his neck as if to fidget with something, before he remembers it isn’t there. “It’s important, though, that you… you know that I mean every word, right?”

Virgil pivots so he’s better facing Logan. They’ve been through a lot but Virgil’s not sure he’s ever seen Logan like… this. Kind of guilty and hesitant… but genuine and determined, too. Virgil just wants to kiss all the uncertainties away and he’s pretty sure that wouldn’t be a bad thing to do given how the last half hour had gone.

“We have a lot to talk about, huh?” He says with a quiet chuckle.

Logan looks relieved and then, confused—

“You don’t have to—”

Virgil leans in close as he puts Logan's scarf back on for him. “I think you could use it more right now than me.”

He stands up, wincing a little, before holding his hands out for Logan to take. He does so and Virgil tries not to blush too hard. “Are we gonna have to thank the noisy drama nerd for pushing us in the right direction?”

Logan pulls himself up with Virgil’s help. “I believe doing so would inflate his ego quite dangerously. It’s probably best we don’t encourage him.”

Virgil does a poor job of trying to conceal his laughter. It just makes Logan's stomach flip. He supposes there’s no hope of getting used to that sensation now. Virgil only lets go of one of his hands as he begins to lead the rest of the way downstairs and back to their dorm. Logan can’t seem to keep the smile off of his face, wondering if hand holding will become a new pastime of theirs… he certainly can’t wait to find out.

#sanders sides fan fiction #analogical #royality #sanders sides #dani writes #human au #college au #romantic analogical #romantic royality #analogical fan fiction #royality fan fiction #pixie

[izzyfandoms]

Royality + "fuck, I really need a coffee" [And btw, I'm spamming messages here by you're not like, required to make all of these. Consider them as a kind of rainy day folder to look at when you're in a block or something, take your time]

Royality - Coffee

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez

Masterpost

"Fuck, I really need a coffee," Patton grumbled tiredly under his breath, rubbing his eyes with sleeve-covered fists.

Roman choked on his coffee, turning to look at his boyfriend with wide eyes.

Patton suddenly realised what he just said, and stared back at Roman with half-tired, half-startled eyes. Then, after a few seconds of surprised silence, Roman burst into laughter. He placed his mug on the table.

"Oh my gosh," he laughed, before pushing his mug towards Patton. "Do you wanna finish mine? I barely drank any, I'll just make my own."

"Thank you, so much," Patton said gratefully, snatching up the coffee and gulping it down like a dehydrated man drinking water for the first time in years.

He chugged half of the cup before setting it back down on the table. Patton then exhaled deeply, slouching like he had just done something physically exhausting.

A brief second passed, and then Patton straightened up again, smiling cheerfully like he usually did.

Roman laughed again, louder this time.

"Wow, that was a quick change! Feeling a bit better now, my love?"

Patton nodded, his smile switching to a smaller, but fonder and sweeter one. It was Roman's favourite smile in the whole world.

Patton moved around the table, sitting down in the chair beside Roman. He then slid his chair across the floor so he was right beside his boyfriend, arms pressed together.

Before Patton could lean in, Roman leant in first, pressing a soft, coffee-flavoured kiss to Patton's lips. It was quickly and eagerly reciprocated, and when Roman pulled back, Patton followed, kissing him again and again until they were both giggly messes who felt like they could melt out of their chairs at any moment.

#me #ask #writing #royality #sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #fluff #human au

[who-comes-up-with-this-stuff]

Hi!! This is cute little drabble for @figurative-siren-song ‘s RarePair Thing!! I hope you all enjoy it!! 🤗💝

Rare Pairing: Remy x Roman

Characters (order of appearance): Roman, Logan, Patton, Virgil, Remy

Warnings: Uh, food, and time anxiety.

————

Roman twirled through the doorway, amping up the extra to his usual greeting back from classes.

“Hello, gorgeous family!” He cheered, rushing over to give his Papa a hug around the back.

“Roman, you seem very lively this evening,” Logan said, pausing his cooking to glance back at his son. “What’s the occasion?” Roman slipped to his Dad next, waiting to peck him on the cheek before answering.

“A grand one!” He slid next to his little brother, and ruffle his hair, causing the emo teen to sway his hand away.

“Ro, what the hell?” He sat up straight as Roman puffed his chest out.

“I,” he began. “Have a date tonight!!”

“What?” Patton shouted, dropping his hot chocolate mug onto the living room table. “Roman, that’s fantastic!! Oh my gosh, tell us everything!” He yanked his son onto the couch and sat next him, staring intently. “Logan!! Come on!”

“You all do realize that I’m in the midst of cooking, right??” Virgil chuckled and went to assist his father, allowing Roman to belt out his achievements with more reason.

“Ok, so we were leaving class together, and right when we were about to say goodbye, he grabs me, by the hand, and asks to go for dinner!” Patton lunges forward, encasing his eldest in a hug.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, kiddo!” Meanwhile, Virgil and Logan were having their own conversation back in the kitchen. As Virgil arranged a couple dishes on the counter for the finished products, Logan continued his cooking.

“Honestly,” Virgil said. “Roman has been crushing on this guy for months. He had that whole, ‘love at first sight’ complex.”

“Why am I not surprised. He’s only brought this boy up a hundred dozen times a week.”

“Try per day,” Virgil scoffed.

“And yet, I’ve never seen this kid in my life.” Virgil shook his head.

“I know. But Remy is the kind of guy to just vanish. He’d be at the dinner table one moment and on a plane to Uganda the next.” Logan narrowed his eyebrows, unsure of how to process that. “But,” Virge continued. “I think this Remy guy is gonna be good for him.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Yeah, a few times. Sometimes he’s with Roman when he picks me up on Wednesday’s.” Logan nodded.

“And guess what!” Romans boisterous voice chimes in. “The two in the kitchen turned their attentions over to see Roman positively beaming, bouncing on his feet. “He got me a gift!” He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a golden chain, the signature Hamilton star on the bottom.

“Oh, Roman, that’s beautiful!” Patton praised. He looked up at his son from the necklace. “So, when is the date?”

“At 7:00!”

“So what you’re saying is,” Logan pitches on from the kitchen. “You’re going to skip the meal that I’m working hard to make to go to a fancy diner with some near stranger — someone of which your dad and I have yet to even meet. Am I correct?”

“Ugh, Pops, come on, you know that I—“ Roman began, hoping to defend himself and make his father feel better.

“I know, Roman, I know, I’m just teasing.” Roman visibly relaxed just as Logan turned to smiled at his younger child. “That just means that your brother will have to have twice as much.”

“Ooh, you see, I would love to,” Virge started, awkwardly playing with his hands. “But...” He splayed his hands out as if to answer in silence. Logan merely chuckled, loving to be able to tease his children. He then turned to his eldest, wearing a straight face.

“Hang on a moment — Roman?” He said, slapping a spatula around. Roman hummed and looked up from admiring his necklace. “What on Earth are you doing? Your date is at seven, it’s six o’clock, come on, get your shit together, you’re going to be late!” Roman instantly jumped into action, bounding up the stairs, calling a “thank you” to his father.

By the time their meal had been set out and the three began to dig in, Roman finally emerged from the stairs. He came out wearing a red, floral print suit jacket and dark jeans, a white shirt beneath and a scarf around his neck.

“Oh, you look great, Roman!” Patton cheered, smiling even as his son rushed around to gather his things. Logan paused his eating to assist.

“Wallet?” Roman looked up before he confirmed that he was carrying his wallet. “Phone?” Another confirmation. “A gift if you have one? Earbuds? Stressball?” Roman has nodded along to all of them, freezing momentarily at the last one.

“Uh, well, I wasn’t going to bring that.” The two fathers peaked interest, while the younger son merely adapted to absorb the next information.

“How come?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t want him to think I’m nervous, let alone stressed to the point of needing fidget toys..”

“Well,” Patton spoke up. “I think it’s a good idea to bring it, just in case. But, I suppose the final decision comes down to you.” Roman gave a light smile and his dad returned it.

“Alright, then come sit with us until your boyfriend arrives.” Roman was quick to grow a light blush.

“Papa, he’s not my boyfriend—“

“Yet.” Virgil pitched in with a smirk. Roman couldn’t glare knowing that it was probably true. However, he took a seat next to his brother anyway and waited, staring at the door and bouncing his leg.

“Here,” Logan pushed a dish of potatoes toward Roman slightly. “Have a bite before you go.”

“And spoil my appetite, are you mad?” He shrieked, pausing all nervous movements to gawk at his father.

“Or what, eat like a pig?” Virgil chipped in, talking with his mouth full. Roman startled again.

“I do not eat like a pig!” The four continued to chat until 7 o’clock rang, and by that point Roman was pacing and constantly checking his appearance in his phone camera. It was by 7:08 that he began to settle, but also begin to sulk.

“He isn’t blowing you off is he?” Virgil accused, pointing his fork despite being finished his meal. “Because if he does, I will rip him a new one, I swear.” Roman fell back into his chair and sighed.

“He’s never been that kind of person.” He muttered. “He’s always so generous and selfless.”

“He is?—“

“It just doesn’t make sense that he would ditch me..”

“Oh, baby,” Patton comforter, rubbing his sons back. “Perhaps he got caught up in traffic, or went the wrong way. I’m sure he’ll be here, darling.” They sat a bit longer, Roman taking a leftover piece of broccoli and tossing it in his mouth with ease.

“Ew. Dude.” Virgil grumbled, scrunching his eyebrows. Roman merely muttered back. A few seconds after he finished chewing, there was series of honks just outside. Roman flew from his chair and dove for the peephole. There was a red car and the one and only Remy Diablo standing in the window roof, using his foot (presumably) to honk the horn.

“It’s him! He’s here!” Roman immediately patted himself down and fluffed up his hair before tearing out of the house to go meet his date.

“So sorry I’m late, babes, just had to make a pitstop.” Remy said, then ducked back into the vehicle. Roman climbed into the passenger seat and looked at Rem.

“A pitstop? Where?” Remy raised his eyebrows up.

“Um. To buy you this? Obviously?” Remy reached one hand over, staring at the road as he drove. In his hand was a small bouquet of flowers, roses and lavenders and others mushed into a single present.

“Oh, they’re gorgeous!” Roman carefully snagged the flowers out of Remys hand and inspected them, giving them all satisfying sniffs. “These are perfect, Remy, honestly!”

“Also,” Remy began, not taking the time to indulge Romans praise. “I figured we go to the Ritz, you know? Romantic place, good service, drinks?” Roman laughed, fondly.

“Sounds great. Thank you, dearest.”

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remy sanders #my fic #rarepair #parental logicality #logicality #food mention #food #thank you for reading!!!!

[suppressedanxiety]

Does Virgil have nightmares about what the other dark sides might do if they found him like this? If so, when Roman tries to wake him up from the nightmare, Virgil could mistake him for Remus at first and be terrified. Roman could start wondering how the other dark sides actually treat Virgil. Could try to ignore these thoughts, the dark sides antagonize each other after all, right? But then why was there true fear in Virgil’s eyes when he woke up?

Anonymous said: /yessssssssss/ wreak these boys. gosh what would happen if the others were to find out? is that a better risk than the light sides?

A few meager hours later, Virgil jerked upright with a gasp, his heart racing as though he’d just run a marathon.

Already the nightmare was fading into vague images and sensations-- familiar clawed hands squeezing him hard enough that something vital popped, a box closing in on him until he ran out of space to breathe, something involving snakes-- but his breath still stuttered with every inhale. 

He shuddered and kicked the cartoon-patterned blankets off of his legs, slowly drawing himself up into a ball like a particularly pathetic pillbug. His bruises twinged in protest.

Though he couldn’t see Logan, he could hear the other Side’s deep, restful inhales from across the room, and felt an odd mixture of relief and frustration. He didn’t want the others to see him like this, but he wished he could rub their stupid, fake-sympathetic faces in the fact that he was only getting more fucked up from this ‘experiment,’ make it their problem. 

Still, no matter how much he complained about them finding him like this... it was better than the alternative.

He shoved his hands in his pockets roughly, and then rested his chin on top of his knees and settled in to doze lightly for another restless night. 

@justanotherpurplebutterfly said: How much longer till the next switch?

It was a testament to Roman’s investment, Logan noted, that he was dedicated enough to wake up early and come to Logan’s room. Particularly since he was often busy clinging to the last vestiges of Thomas’s REM sleep at this hour. 

Logan had been up for a while, having obtained a mug of coffee and sat himself at his desk to get his backlog of work done. He’d offered a greeting to Anxiety, but the tiny side must have been still sleeping or outright ignoring him behind those curtains. 

He glanced once more at the untouched leftovers from the previous evening and then rose from his chair. Roman started up his rhythmic knocking again just as he reached the door, and he tugged it open with a raised eyebrow. “I heard you the first time, Roman.” 

“Then put some pep in that step, Specs! I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning to be late to another one of Dear Patton’s meals.” 

Logan rolled his eyes, but ultimately conceded the point. “Come in, then.” 

He walked back over to the desk, hesitating for a moment before settling on tapping the desk outside Anxiety’s box a couple times. Knocking on the glass itself felt too much like a child tormenting fish in an aquarium. 

“Anxiety? It’s morning, and Roman is here to collect you. Are you awake?” he asked, studying the overhang for any sign of movement.   

The bed was quiet for a long moment, and Logan sighed, lowering the glass walls with barely a thought. “Anxiety? Please don’t ignore me.” 

Roman looked between him and the bed a couple of times, confused. 

“Why don’t you just… y’know, grab him?” He asked, gesturing slightly in example.

“The curtains are a measure of privacy and security. I told Anxiety I would not interact with them or intrude upon them without his explicit permission.” Logan explained curtly, a twitch of one of the blankets catching his eye. 

“Oh, so the see-through box didn’t work so well as a room? Who could have guessed?” Roman said with a teasing grin. 

Personally, Logan thought that was hypocritical coming from someone who had easy control over every room in Anxiety’s ‘castle,’ but he let the comment pass in favor of continuing to watch the bed. The creative Side shifted from foot to foot, already bored with waiting. 

“Anxiety, come on, I want to get breakfast. Let’s go already!”

“Shut it, Princey. I’m- ugh, I’m coming, just give me a second.” Anxiety’s voice was underscored with strain as the curtains shifted, occasionally cut off by small grunts of effort. Roman and Logan shared a concerned look, and when the tiny side finally managed to climb out of the bed, they both immediately noticed how stiff he was. 

Well. That, and...

“Pfft!” Roman pressed a hand against his mouth to muffle his laughter at the sight of Anxiety’s hair suffering a case of the worst bed head he’d ever seen. The tiny side scowled at him immediately. 

“What’s so funny, Sir Chuckles?” he snapped, only making Roman wheeze harder. 

“Y-- Your hair!” 

Anxiety reached up automatically, his face reddening slightly as he encountered the mess of fluff sticking up at odd angles atop his head. It was certainly a sight to see, since he generally appeared with his hair firmly slicked down to hide behind his bangs. Logan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so much of Anxiety’s forehead before. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Anxiety said scathingly, quickly flipping his hood up, “I was a little busy being stuck in a glass box to notice my reflection in the mirror I don’t have and brush my hair with the hairbrush I don’t have.” 

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that bad” Roman cajoled, his hand darting forwards and tugging the hood back off. Anxiety automatically twitched away, and then made a sound like a trodden-upon mouse, his hand jumping to his torso. 

Logan shot Roman a sharp look, making him wince. “Shit, are you--?” 

“Fine,” Anxiety said brusquely, the effect lessened slightly by how small his voice was to them. He removed his hand, pointedly flipping his hood back up before returning his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

#asks #the-opal-essence #justanotherpurplebutterfly #anonymous #chrono #((back in business boys :) ))

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

This story takes place during the Sanders Asides Are There Healthy Distractions Episodes, suggested by @heavy-metal-papillon . The idea comes from Logan voicing Deciets line when he pops up to grab his hat from Logan, so in this story Deciet and Logan switched places in the episode.

Switching Sides

Summary: Logan wants some time to himself and Janus wants to enjoy a movie with the other sides in peace. They support and respect eachothers wants and needs, agreeing to switch places for movie night. In doing so, they both gained a bit more than they bargained for.

Warnings: none, but if you see any just say something!

Ships: platonic Lociet, past platonic Anciet

WC: 2, 305

Janus adjusted the his tie one final time, giving himself a once over in the mirror. His hair was combed back smartly, hat tucked away safely in his room for the time being. He had gotten the type right this time, and the white embroidered brain logo stood out against the plain black polo. The stiff dark Jean's were a little uncomfortable but the dress shoes fit nicely so he couldn't complain too much. This had to be perfect, even if it was a somewhat casual setting, he couldn't afford to-

"You know you could've just asked."

Yelping, he whirled around to face the real logical side currently sizing him up with a less than impressed expression. "We aren't discussing anything important today, why are you replacing me again?"

Janus sputtered. "I wasn't!"

Logan's eyebrow raised even more. "So my choice of clothing is just that comfortable, right down to the glasses?"

"...yes."

"Janus."

The deceitful side snapped his head up to glare at the other. "Not so loud! You dont know if one of the others would hear!"

Logan cleared his throat. "No one is left in the mind scape currently except us. Even Remus is currently hiding behind the couch. I assure you no one will overhear us, though of course I will call you Deciet if that would make you more comfortable."

Narrowing his eyes, Janus took a careful step back. "Why aren't you angry at me?"

Logan shrugged. "Why are you disguising yourself to simply watch a movie?"

"Because I-well in case...just in case something comes up that....hes using this to distract himself and that's sort of like lying to yourself so it stands to reason i would want to be there." Satisfied with jus excuse he glared at the other, daring him to argue.

But Logan simply nodded. "I've been meaning to get more work done anyway and would rather do that than watch Roman rig the vote multiple times only to complain about the plot of the movie he picked out. Straighten the tie and be careful."

"Just...just like that? You don't even care?"

"I require time to....gather my thoughts, after the more recent dilemmas Thomas seems insistant on making harder than they should be. Peace and quiet would be nice right now and if you're willing to take my place then I wont argue." Nodding more to himself, Logan reached out to hand him a thermos. "Caffiene helps stave off the inevitable headache. I highly recommend it."

Dumbfounded, Janjs could only clutch the thermos go his chest as he watched the logical trait walk back to his room and quietly shut the door behind him. Something he couldn't quite identify tugged in his chest but he brushed it off quickly and sunk down to the apartment below.

Patton was the first to notice him as he settled down stiffly on the couch, waving excitedly and almost spilling what looked like cocoa all over the floor in the process. Nodding he looked up as Roman began to speak.

"Finally! Now that we have our resident nerd here we can vote." Janus watched curiously as little slips of paper were passed around, narrowing his eyes at the clump that Roman hid in his sleeve but decided not to say anything. He looked over as Thomas cleared his throat, taking the paper offered to him with an excited smile which he quickly dropped in favor of Logans usual impassive expression. He didnt expect to win the vote, but maybe since it was movie night they'd watch all the suggested films to make it fair. He didnt really know how this was supposed to work, Remus and....well, nobody ever watched movies together in the part of the mind he resided in.

Quickly jotting down his selection he waited rather impatiently for the rest to finish, gripping the paper tightly as a hat was passed around.

Wait.

He could only stare as the collection hat got to him. How had they gotten his hat? When did they even get it?....How often did they sneak into his room without him knowing? He wanted so badly to yell, take his hat and sink out, but that wasnt who he was right now.

"Hey L, you good?"

His head snapped up so fast he felt his neck creak. Virgil had never....not for a long time....that tone of voice wasn't for him. Virgil stayed with the "light sides" now, he only showed concern for them. Swallowing around the lump in his throat he reluctantly handed the hat back to Thomas to give back to Roman.

"I'm adequate thank you."

His hand shook slightly as he raised the thermos of coffee to his lips, but if Virgil noticed he didn't say anything.

Swinging his attention back to the current conversation he caught Pattons response to whatever had been said. "...voted for Frozen Roman but I'm still rooting for-"

"Oh my gosh! One hundred percent of the votes went to Frozen!"

He scowled as Patton cheered. "No, fu - falsehood, I did not vote for Frozen!"

"You didn't get a vote because you didnt wear a onesie!"

Taking a preemptive swig of coffee, he mumbled out, "I don't wear those anymore, they're too childish."

"No onesie, no vote, like our founding fathers believed!"

Janus snorted quietly, covering it up with an exasperated sigh as he settled more into couch. While the movie was being set up he glared again at the stolen hat on the floor, bringing out his phone discreetly.

Dee: I know I don't have much right to ask you this, but might I request a favor?

Logan: I assure you it's fine. What do you need?

Surprised at the quick response he continued to type, glancing up every now and again to be sure no one noticed his silence.

Dee: Roman stole my hat somehow, I was wondering if it would be possible cor you to get it back? I know you don't like shifting but I'm not sure how discreet it would be for me to try and get it as you.

Logan: It isn't that I don't like it, I'm just not equipped to be good at it. It does not make logical sense to disguise oneself, therefore I am at a disadvantage when it comes to such things. However, I can replicate your scales if I may have permission to 'raid your wardrobe' so to speak. Only with your permission of course.

Dee: Thank you and it's fine. Just dont go snooping around. You may not like what you find.

Logan: I will not. I have no reason to do anything other than procur clothing and so that is all I will do.

Sighing in relief, Janus settled back somewhat comfortably to watch the movie, letting the other sides' idle chatter wash over him.

----

"Fear will be your enemy."

Janus snuck a glance at Virgil at this line, glancing back away quickly at the look of panic that flashed across the anxious sides face. He wondered if Virgil would ever open up about his true nature....though perhaps until things truly calmed down it was for the best he remained determined to be closed off.

----

He nearly jumped out of his skin as Remus popped up suddenly behind him, clapping his hands at the prospect of Anna and Elsa's parents dying at sea, seemingly completely naked and comfortable enough to showcase go the entire living room. Janus shot him a warning look as Remus peered at him curiously, thanking God that for once Remus seemed content to keep his mouth shut.

----

"Wait, Hans is tricking Anna making her believe hes in love with her, but shes not around...why make that face?" He had watched the movie before of course but now that he had people to discuss it with that weren't making sexual innuendos every other sentence he felt much more comfortable speaking out.

"Yeah your right...."

Janus promptly turned out the rest of Roman's sentence, discreetly entering the date into his phone that Roman had admitted he was right in something, even if he didnt know who he was speaking to.

----

"Do you think this place has a lavatory?"

"Ice toilet!" Patton giggled.

"Or a bed?" Roman countered.

"Ice bed!"

"This place sounds awful." His nature made his blood run colder than normal anyway and the thought of sleeping on a freezing cold bed on top of a mountain surrounded by walls of ice made him very much wish he had in fact worn his onesie.

----

Janus chugged another mouthful of coffee in irritation. "You meddled with the vote to ensure we would watch this and yet you're the one constantly making fun of it."

"Look, this is how I show my love!"

Janus rolled his eyes and settled back into the couch wondering if Roman showed his love this way with the others just as much as he did with his beloved disney films.

----

Janus watched as Virgil voiced his thoughts on the matter that had made them all plan this movie night in the first place. A familiar kind of second hand hurt tugged in his chest while the others' thoughts spiraled further and further, unconsciously blanketing the room with an ever more suffocating blanket of anxiety. He watched as Roman grimaced from across the room, Patton fidgeting in place and gripping his mug ever harder and Thomas dragging fingers through messy hair as Virgil only continued talking faster and faster, becoming more and more worked up as the literal word vomit consumed any rational thoughts left in the room.

"Thomas, Virgil?" He waited calmly as Thomas peeked out from his hands and Virgils panicked face snapped towards him. Pushing down the old familiarity he continued on. "Please do me a favor and name me five things that you can see."

"Staircase." Thomas sighed.

"Impending doom." Virgil quickly countered.

"Olaf."

"A future without friends."

"Lamp!"

"Blinds."

"Pants."

"Now four things you can feel."

"Pants."

"A bad feeling."

"The couch."

"Wall."

"Hair."

"Three you can hear." He smiled in relief as Virgil began to participate more, visibly calming as his mind was brought back to the present.

"Olaf."

"The fan."

"The ice machine for some reason."

Thomas really needed to fix his appliances. "Two things can smell."

"Clean shirt."

"The deodorant Thomas put on because....he was gonna go out tonight."

"And one thing you can taste."

"A sour taste in my mouth probably leftover from those reheated tai noodle leftovers."

Both variably more calm, Janus tried gently explaining the technique he had used, though he knew they both already knew it seemed like a good idea to remind them that they were allowed to use the technique whenever they needed it.

"Thank you, Logan." Thomas breathed out as he leaned forward tiredly.

Janus smiled, going to take another swig of his dwindling coffee when he caught site of a figure dressed in black and yellow on the stairs, nobody having noticed his presence yet.

Allowing himself a smirk behind the thermos, he responded. "No problem. Just your cool teacher being his cool self."

He smiled slightly wider as he heard a quiet scoff from the figure, just loud enough that he could hear it. He hoped Logan didn't think he was making fun of him, this was a rare day where he hadn't lied once around the others.

----

Logan settled quietly on the stairs til the end of the movie, seeming content to join them quietly until Roman brought Janus' hat back out.

After they had discussed the movie's ending, with Virgils anxious thoughts still persisting, he realized they needed to do something else that more actively distracted them all from the situation. As Roman brought out his hat to vote on another activity Logan stepped in quickly, Virgil hissing at him much to Janus' amusement while Logan snatched his hat back without a glance in his direction.

"I was looking for this! Don't touch my shit!" Janus bit his lip hard to keep from busting out laughing at the reality of Logan swearing at Roman for him, a warm feeling enveloping him as the others continued with whatever conversgion they had moved on to. His focus came back as the ending of some kind of Frozen fix it fanfiction was being discussed, making it very hard not to feel smug as his suggested was acted upon and Thomas definitely seemed happier than he had previously. Not being needed for whatever ridiculous story was sure go come out he sunk back down into the mind scape, startling slightly when he appeared right next to Logan who was currently fixing a spare tie as he left Janus' room.

"Ah, you're back. I left your hat on the bedside where I assume it was taken in the first place. I'm the future know that with a little concentration we are able to keep certain sides out of our rooms. I would suggest you utilize this to prevent future thievery."

Janus shook off his disguise and held out the stolen tie. "Thank you...for letting me, well you didn't have to allow me to ho in your stead. I....appreciate the trust."

"Keep it." Logan gestured to the tie before turning away. "Just in case."

Janjs watched in confusion as Logan returned to his room to lock himself away again, finally sighing and turning to his own. Smiling a little he laid the tie carefully in a drawer before plunking his hat back on his head, shoulders sagging in relief at the familiarity.

It was nice to pretend to be someone else and talk with fake friends. But maybe, in allowing himself vulnerability, he had found himself another real one.

This work is also available on AO3!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #lociet #logan sanders #deciet sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #ao3

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

I would do it all again (NSFW)

Ride or Die Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Mona and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after the first book.

Summary: After what happened at the parking lot, each member of the crew tries to build a new life, following the “every man for himself” motto. But Annie doesn’t agree with that and tries to pull them back together, especially Mona, who she has been waiting for too many years.

Warnings: NSFW

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

I would do it all again - Part 3

          Annie was already asleep on the couch by the time Mona had returned. There was a book opened on the floor, a half empty mug of tea and something stupid passing on TV. She didn’t hear the sound of the door, but felt fingers caressing her hair, earning a sleepy sigh and a slow stretch from the girl. Eyes opened to face a beautiful woman leaning in to kiss her on the lips. Was that a dream? Annie had that dream so many times before.

         “Ouch! Hey!” Mona complained when felt a pinch on her forearm. “What was that for?”

         “To check if you’re real.” She whispered, sitting down to make room for two.

         “You’re supposed to pinch yourself, dumbass. To wake you up, not the person you’re dreaming with.”

         “Oh, but it’s more fun to pinch you. And if this were just a dream, I wouldn’t wanna wake me up so soon.”          

         The Lebanese didn’t argue against that. Instead, all she wanted to do was to pull the girl closer, kiss her a little bit longer, roam hands over her body… Remember how Annie was soft and easy to tease. After that much time, it was like nothing had changed, but everything was different, all at once. Six years felt like too long.

         Like she could hear those thoughts, Annie threw her arms around Mona’s neck, pushing her lips into a sudden deep kiss. One of Mona’s fear was for them not to be on the same page regarding sex. They had only one experience together, the girl’s first time to be exact, and if Dom was right about it, then Annie didn’t date anyone after that.

         Her fear proved to be wrong, though. So wrong.

         “Are you sure?” Mona’s husky voice sounded eager to continue, but she kept her hands to herself, waiting for a confirmation… Which came by Annie crawling to her lap, those kisses still deep and breathless.

         “Hell, yeah. Stop worrying and touch me, goddammit”.

         That was sufficiently clear. Mona was bursting in heat inside, her arms holding the woman in a way there was no space between then. Their kissing lead to removing clothes, tripping, and finding the path to the bedroom in the dark. A naked Annie was thrown in bed, breath taken away, fingers holding the sheets strongly while cursing and begging not to stop. It was hard, fast, hot. She could feel her body burning, and the more Annie begged, the more she received, her hips rocking against Mona’s hand. The feeling brought back flashbacks from prom night, and just like then, she arched the body and came on that woman’s hands, unable to hold it back any further.

         “You’re still easy, aren’t you…” Mona placed fiery kisses along the girl’s neck, capturing her mouth in the end. “Damn, I pictured this so much…”

         “Did you, huh?” Annie chuckled, trying to recover herself. Suddenly, she pushed Mona to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling before her with a mischievous smile. “Have you been touching yourself picturing me between your legs?”

         Mona’s dark eyes locked with hers, desire written all over them. “Why don’t you put your pretty mouth on me so I can see if my imagination was right?”

         That made Annie bit her lips, but it wouldn’t happen so easily, no. She decided to play with Mona’s body: kissing down the belly, nibbling her inner thing, one finger sliding slowly against the entrance, but never going in… The woman growled and complained, opening her legs even more. When Annie placed a light kiss against her clit, she looked up to meet those demanding dark eyes, a defiantly tone on her voice: “Make me.”

         Mona immediately gripped her by the wrists. In a sudden movement, she pulled Ann back to bed, holding those arms above her head. “Open your mouth”, she whispered against the girl’s ear, causing a shiver of anticipation. Holding the wrists pinned on the bed, Mona spread her legs and fit Annie’s face between them. A loud moan came right after feeling her tongue moving eagerly inside, tasting everything around before sliding up to her clit.

         “Don’t you dare stop” said Mona, hips moving on the same rhythm, so close to peak her body was trembling already. She had lost her strength and that made an opening for Annie to retreat her arms, grabbing the woman’s butt and burring the tongue inside her right when she came. The moan that accompanied it was so loud it echoed through the apartment. The most delicious sound Annie had ever heard.

         Touching proved to be easy. That night and at others. They found synchrony with sex, fucking around like a recently married couple. Morning, afternoon, nights… There was no better time than now, and no better place than the entire house. They even fucked in the car once, after Mona bended over to take her earphones and that arouse Annie too much.

         A few days later, both fell on the bed, sweaty and tired. This time, Mona was awfully quiet… As she had been for most of the day.

“Are you okay?” Annie turned to look at her, but the woman’s face was staring at the ceiling.

         “Yeah, I am.” Mona sighed, Dominick’s words still flying on her head, each day a little louder. “I… We should… Talk. About things. Some of it. Argh, goddammit!”

         “It’s okay…” Annie’s fingers caressed her arm to comfort. “Why don’t I ask you questions, and you just answer the ones you want? Sounds better?”

         A nod. The hard expression of a statue.

         “Tell me if I go too far, alright?” she waited for another nod, but Mona only arched an eyebrow. “Ok. So. Practical things first. Do you want to stay here? I don’t mean forever or for a long time or… Just, for now. Do you want to stay here for now? For as long as you like. God, I’m terrible at it too, ain’t I?”

         “Yes. For both questions.”

         Annie chuckled. “Fine. Moving on. Are you comfortable with the idea of opening an auto shop with Toby and Ximena in the future?”

         “Ye… Wait, what? With them? How…?”

         “We’ve been in touch.” She smiled mischievously. “C’mon, I had to figure out a plan. I knew you’d wanna see them again, even though you tried to hide it. The place seemed perfect. Two huge apartments with an auto shop all set. There’s even enough room for Ximena to have a tattoo studio, which she’s totally on board for. Toby already has a mechanic license. We just need his parole to be over. In the meantime, there’s a lot to renovate down there, I only fixed the apartments.”

         Mona couldn’t believe it. Her mouth was slightly opened. “So, the door in front of ours…”

         “It’s another apartment just like this one. Twins.”

         “Damn, Ann. You really thought this through.” She bit her thumb, still wondering. The picture was so good. To live next to each other, put their hands on cars again… “What about Colt and Logan? Know anything about ‘em?”

         “No. I haven’t seen Colt ever since the day you were shot. And Logan is in touch with Toby and Ximena, visiting them. We talked over the phone a couple times. But he doesn’t know about the plan. I wasn’t sure you’d like the shop idea.”

         Mona sighed, mad at herself for actually liking it so badly. “I do. A little. Move on to the next question.”

         “Are you… Uhm… Is there someone… Who wouldn’t appreciate the idea of us… You know…” Annie looked away, preferring to just stare at her hands. “Oh, fuck it. Do you have someone? From the inside?”

         Mona’s heart speeded. That was the window she needed to talk about what happened in prison, to explain herself. But the picture of their future with the auto shop was so temptingly close… “No. I don’t.”

Not a lie. Not the whole truth, though.

         Annie tried not to look happy about that answer. And failed. “Ok. Noted. That’s important information.”

         “Gosh, you didn’t change at all, did ya? You’re blushing like a teen.”

         “Stop it!” She covered her face, leaning forward and hiding herself on Mona’s shoulder. Her voice sounded muffled, but still understandable. “Next question. But that’s more likely to be a promise.”

         “Oh, gee. That can’t be good.”

         “Can you try not to do anything that could damage your parole and send you back to jail, please? Six years was enough. I missed you.”

         The Lebanese rested her nose on the top of Annie’s head, smelling her scent for a while. She hated promises. Old Mona would have laughed and teased her about it. The idea of living a peaceful life with a steady job and the same girl on her bed was never the plan. But when she saw Annie drive away from the hospital door, things changed. It wasn’t only prison that damaged Mona, even though it helped a lot. It was losing Annie. Fearing, every day, that at any time that gorgeous girl would stop sending letters and disappear. Find a person, marry, and leave their story behind.  

         And then, it didn’t. Annie never left.

         Letters kept coming, gifts, calls... Every Sunday, Mona loved to hear the guard saying, “visit’s waiting for you”, though she never moved from the bed. Annie wasn’t like Ada. Ada let Mona to go to jail, chose it, and then vanished for good. Ada never cared. Two very different people, but it took a while for Mona to believe that. Seeing her ex-girlfriend in prison, right on the next cell, was a low blow and a trip to memory’s land she didn’t want to take. 

          And what they did in there…

         “I promise.” Mona whispered through a heavy breath. “I’ll try.”

         God knew how she was willing to try anything for that girl.

#mona x mc #choices: ride or die #choices: stories you play #sorry about possibly exchanging words #my reading skills are bad today

[collapsingintojupiter]

How I Met Them

So I saw a post by the lovely @sanderssides-incorrectquotes talking about socially anxious Patton, and I got a few fun ideas. I’ve decided to combine this with the Chaotic Logan idea proposed by @watchoutforthefanfics, partially because I’ve been wanting to do something like that for a while and hey...why not now?

Anyways.

Characters: Patton, Logan, Roman, Remus, and Virgil. 

I wrote each character with some slightly different characteristics in mind; for example Patton is anxious, Logan is impulsive and reckless, Roman is insecure, Remus is very scatterbrained and has ADHD, and Virgil struggles with anger issues. 

I may write more for this idea if I get enough interest, but we’ll see.

TW: Cussing, some anxiety, there’s a somewhat heated argument, and also sympathetic Remus. Let me know if you’d like me to add anything else.

Patton nibbled at an apple, seated comfortably on a park bench while he watched the geese out on the pond. He’d always enjoyed afternoons like this, when school was out and he didn’t have to be home yet. Patton liked watching the geese. He liked seeing them swim around without a care in the world, he liked the little sparrows that flitted in the tree branches overhead, he liked hearing the birds sing and seeing the water ripple and not having to hear screaming students that made his ears ring. 

A goose honked and Patton smiled at it. 

“Hi,” he called to it. The goose looked at him, then turned and went back to its business. Patton watched for a little while longer before he stood up and yawned, adjusting the light pink scarf around his neck. It went nicely with his pale blue sweater, which had a kitten face on it, and lavender-colored pants that reminded him of his favorite flowers. Matching that were white shoes with cotton-candy dyed laces and pastel rainbow-striped socks--what could he say? Patton liked pretty colors, and he loved wearing them whenever he could. He liked his colorful glasses and his bright tie-dye backpack; liked putting flowers in his hair during the warmer months and wearing colorful bracelets all year-round. Colors were fun, and beautiful, and there for you even when you were tired and anxious and unable to think straight (heh).

Patton started along the little pathway by the lake, carefully adjusting the light blue beanie that sat on top of his curly brown hair. He ran his fingers along its soft surface and smiled a little to himself, letting out a quiet sigh. 

Then a scream interrupted him. 

Actually, it was a lot of screaming. 

Then something sprinted past Patton in a whirl, launching itself into the pond without a second’s hesitation. The geese honked and scattered in a flurry of wings; Patton jumped aside with a panicked yelp and tripped, falling headfirst into the pond’s shallows. Cold water splashed over his face and his hands squelched into deep mud--he panicked when he realized he couldn’t breathe, before something grabbed his arm and wrenched him upwards. 

“Logan you fucking idiot!” someone was shouting. “You knocked him over!”

“I didn’t do anything!” called back another indignant voice, accompanied by the sound of splashing. “It’s not my fault he fell!”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” The one who had been holding Patton’s arm suddenly let go and he stumbled back, barely managing to regain his footing before he fell again. He fumbled for his glasses and realized they were no longer on his face. 

“Dammit, guys it’s Patton! Logan, are his glasses there? He needs his glasses.”

Roman…? Patton wasn’t sure if he recognized the voice or not, but it sounded a bit like him. 

“Are these it?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Well give them to him, you idiot!” A blurry figure pressed something into Patton’s shaking hands and he held the item up to his face, blinking and looking at his new surroundings through familiar drop-streaked lenses. 

“Th-these are...mine,” he managed to say with some difficulty, his heart thumping nervously as he looked over the characters surrounding him and shivered. 

“I’m sorry you fell; Logan’s an idiot and it’s not my fault,” chirped a punk-looking boy that looked a lot like Roman, but with hair that was twice as messy and a wild look in his eye.

“You dared me! You wanted to know how cold the water was!” Another punk, this one in blue and black, slapped the first with a wet hand. “And it’s fucking freezing, by the way.” Patton stared at the two with wide eyes, unable to form words from his mouth which had suddenly gone dry with anxiety.

“Guys, shut up.” Another boy, this one in purple, shoved his way past the first two and shoved a jacket into Patton’s hands. “Here, you can have mine. Patton, right?”

Patton managed a tiny, shy nod.

“How far away is your house?”

“Uh…It’s...it’s that way...” Patton pointed down the street with a shaky hand. “Uh...t-ten minutes?” His voice squeaked, and his cheeks turned red. 

“Our place is closer.” Roman, who was wearing a red and white varsity jacket, nodded to the other one that looked like him. “It’s just down the street, you’re gonna freeze to death if you go home in that. Come with us.”

Patton wanted to protest, but all he managed was another squeak that Roman took to be an agreement as the group started walking. His knees shook but he started running after them, trying to ignore how his heart was trying to jackhammer itself out of his chest. 

A hand suddenly appeared in front of him. Patton jumped and looked up, seeing the purple punk. 

“I’m Virgil,” he said. He pointed at the one who looked like Roman but wasn’t Roman. “That’s Remus, the wet one’s Logan, and he’s Roman. You’re in my English class, aren’t you?” Patton looked at him and nodded. 

“Yeah…” 

“Do you not want the jacket?” Patton suddenly realized it was still in his arms, shaking his head before grabbing it and wrapping it around his shoulders. 

“Th-thanks,” he said. 

“Don’t mention it.” Patton looked over the group as they continued walking, trying to match each name to each face. Logan was the tall pale one with unruly brown hair dyed blue--he looked like a vampire, to be honest. He had a hearing aid in his left ear. Remus and Roman were both shorter with a Latino build and darker skin, though Remus had dyed a streak of silver into his wild hair while Roman kept his impeccably groomed. Virgil was also tall, and his skin was as dark as Logan’s was pale. His hair was done in long dreads, which were at the moment pulled back into a ponytail. 

And then there was him. Patton. Short and skinny, with curly brown hair and tan skin and dark eyes, and a character about as frightening as a cupcake. 

 Virgil stayed by his side and let the others go ahead, keeping quiet company with Patton as the group followed Roman to where his house apparently was--he hadn’t realized that they lived so close, though that shouldn’t have been surprising. 

“Alright, parents aren’t home. We’re good,” Remus announced loudly as he swung the door open. Roman smiled at Patton as he entered, then followed him inside. 

“Here, come with me,” he said. “I have some clothes you can change into.”

“But...I...I can’t just take your stuff!” Patton protested, stopping as Roman disappeared into what was probably his room. 

“You can give them back tomorrow,” was the answer. Roman reappeared a few minutes later, passing a bundle to Patton. “Sorry it’s not more your style. Bathroom’s that way.” He pointed down the hall, and before Patton knew what he was doing he was following the other boy’s directions. He went down the hall that wasn’t his, past rooms that weren’t his, and into the bathroom that wasn’t his. He closed the door, his heart pounding, and stared at his muddy, shivering reflection in the mirror. The front of his favorite sweatshirt was splattered with mud, as well as everything else. He’d be lucky if it washed out…

The clothes Roman had given him consisted of a maroon sweatshirt that was too big for Patton, sweatpants, a gray and black-striped scarf, and...a beanie? Patton washed his face and toweled off his hair, sliding the yellow hat onto his head and feeling just a bit better as the fabric settled down on his curls. 

When he opened the door, Roman was leaning against the wall on the other side of the hall. He waved a little, then offered up a plastic bag for Patton to put his wet clothes in. 

“If it’s alright...I also had Virgil make you some hot chocolate? I really am sorry for what happened out there…”

“It’s alright,” Patton said quietly. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. You look cute as hell in that sweater, by the way.”

“Huh?” Patton felt his cheeks blush and he looked down at himself--the colors were all wrong and they didn’t fit right at all as far as he was concerned, but more than that…

Was Roman flirting with him?

“Yeah! You look nice in red.” Roman smiled at him again as they came into the living room, where the other boy flopped onto the couch next to Remus and Logan--Logan, who’d already been banished to the floor as he was still wet and didn’t seem to have any intention of changing. 

“Hey,” Remus said. Patton blinked at him.

“Uh, hey.”

“We go to the same school don’t we?” 

“Remus, you’re in classes with him!” Logan turned around and smacked the other boy, who made a face of surprise. 

“Really? Must’ve forgotten…” Patton wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing. 

“Here.” Patton turned as Virgil entered the living room, passing a mug to him. “Hot chocolate?”

“Um, thanks.” Patton tentatively accepted the offering, looking around the room before he sat down on the edge of an empty sofa. “So, um...what were you guys doing out there?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you guys at the park before, and I go there every day.” Roman chuckled at that, Virgil rolled his eyes, and Logan and Remus exchanged amused looks. 

“Well,” Remus started. “You see, we were originally going to try and tie two ducks together…”

“...But we couldn’t find anything to catch them with, and we’d already tried rushin’ ‘em, so we got bored. And then Remus wondered how cold the water was.” Logan shrugged. “It’s cold, by the way, in case you were wondering.” Patton smiled the tiniest bit at that. 

“Y-Yeah, I noticed.” Remus barked a laugh that made him jump, and Logan smacked him again. 

Patton ended up hanging out with the odd group for a little while, drinking hot chocolate and listening while the others laughed and joked and talked about odd things. Once he’d finished Roman practically jumped out of his seat to take the cup for him, and though Patton felt bad about letting the other boy take it for him he didn’t say anything. Roman ran it to the kitchen, and when he came back the others were all standing up. Patton blinked at them in confusion, but took Virgil’s hand when he offered it. 

“Mind if we escort you back to your place?” he asked. 

“You, you don’t have to if you don’t--”

“That wasn’t the question,” the purple punk answered, and smiled. “Would you like us to accompany you, Patton? We’d be honored to walk you home.”

He had to admit, it was a nice offer. One he’d never gotten before from anybody; people didn’t really just ask to hang out with him. And Patton couldn’t quite believe it, but these odd characters had already managed to grow on him. They were nothing like the people Patton had met before in school, and their strangeness somehow only made him like them more. He glanced awkwardly around the group, then nodded. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He automatically reached up to touch his beanie, then grinned a little and nodded to Roman as he held the door open for him. The group followed him outside, Logan shivering but stubbornly refusing to accept the coat Roman offered him. 

“Wonder how long it takes to get hypothermia while wet in this weather,” Remus said aloud. Logan paused, then his eyes got wide and he grinned maniacally. 

“Why don’t we find--”

“Absolutely you will not,” Virgil cut in, throwing a glare at the green punk. “Christ, I am not calling the hospital again this month.” Logan made a face at him, and he and Remus exchanged annoyed looks before shrugging and continuing on their way. Virgil let out a long sigh, then glanced at Patton. 

“In case you're wondering, yes I have had to call the hospital already this month,” he said. “And no, you can’t ask about it.” Patton blinked at him.

“Okay,” he said. 

“You know, he’s alright,” Remus said, pointing at Patton. “I like him.”

“It’s your fault he ended up in that pond,” Roman glared at his twin, who glared back. 

“That was Logan’s fault, don’t blame me for what he did!”

“Oh, because he’s definitely got his impulse control under control!”

“Hey!” Logan shouted. “You both--”

“--Guys, guys it’s okay!” Patton automatically stepped between the three, his heart pounding as he held his hands up. “Please...please don’t fight.” The punks and fashionable boy looked between each other, then suddenly seemed to calm down, nodding to each other. 

“Sorry,” Remus offered. “Didn’t want to upset you.”

“I apologize as well,” Logan added, and Roman nodded.

“It’s alright,” Patton said, then added, “thanks for listening.”

“Course.” 

The group fell silent as they continued; even Logan and Remus managed to behave until they were on the steps to Patton’s house. He looked back at them and smiled, taking his bag of wet clothes back from Roman as he went to the door. 

“Thanks for...for the fun time,” he said, and then the door was closed and they were gone. 

#sanders sides #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #duke sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #virgil sanders

[sebthesnipe]

Eat Your Heart Out

February Prompts 2/13

Prompt List

First // Previous February Prompt // Previous MDP Chapter // Next

The February Collection on AO3

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Prompt: Venom/Vecant

Ship: Prinxiety (kinda…) and Logicality (kinda…)

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

 WARNING: Some gore, mentions of death

 Roman paced anxiously, leaves crunching against his boots. Logan had been in the cave for quite some time now and the prince  wasn’t quite sure if he was alive. If he was, perhaps Roman should go after him?

Virgil didn’t seem bothered by Logan’s absence in the least. If Logan was in trouble, he would undoubtedly reach out for one of them, or switch to his other form. If Logan switched, then Virgil would be capable of returning to his human state. This was also the case if Logan perished. So, until he could turn, or Logan returned, there was no point in wasting as much energy as Roman seemed to be. 

It wasn’t as if Virgil was unconcerned. No, his best friend just strode unarmed and alone in a Dragon’s Lair! However, Virgil trusted Logan’s judgement and had learned long ago not to doubt him. For now, all they could do was wait and set up camp as he had asked. 

“How can you be so calm!” Roman’s whiney voice came, making the Procyon want to roll its eyes. “He’s in there, all alone, probably being roasted alive and you’re… what? Adding to your stick collection?” 

The raccoon seemed to give the prince an even glance, stick in question still between his teeth. The guy was over dramatic, for sure, and far too loud, but he still felt the prince was important on the venture forward. The issue was that he didn’t know how or why. 

“Don’t look at me like that! You’re the one that let him walk in there! I’m just your captive,” the prince huffed, tossing up his hands flamboyantly as he turned to the raccoon. “What would you have me do?!”

Virgil continued to stare at him pointedly, unamused by his constant chattering. The furry animal was fairly certain that if Roman ever came to be cursed as they had been, he would no doubt be turned into something similar to a squirrel or a chipmunk. At least then he wouldn’t be quite as annoying. 

Virgil made sure to keep the eye contact as he continued on his path, waddling towards the small clearing of leaves he had made and dropping his stick onto the small pile he had collected already. 

It was starting to get a bit late and with each passing hour the temperature was dropping. Perhaps Virgil was far too attuned to this fact due to his beastly state; or perhaps it was that he had lived most of his life sleeping on the streets. Either way, he didn’t expect someone as pampered and pompous as the man before him to understand just yet. 

“Why am I even still here?!” Roman’s dramatic display continued. “I could have made a break for it ages ago!” Virgil huffed and moved to continue collecting sticks for his fire. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find my way back. Surely,  considering the sun rises in the east then I can find north and be safe and warm back-”

Virgil gave a discreet sideways glance as the prince trailed off, the sound of his heavy footfalls silencing as the realization hit him. His little mammalian heart could have broken for him in that moment if he had allowed it. Virgil picked up another couple of sticks in his jaws as reality began to sink in. 

Roman was no doubt remembering the horrific deeds of the night before. The countless lives lost, the burning homes, his family… The poor guy was on his own now. Virgil was curious if he was aware of that, not that he would, or could, ask him as things were. 

He dropped the last of the twigs onto the pile and glanced up. The look of pure anguish on the prince’s face was devastating. Roman’s brows furrowed slightly upwards as he stared into the distances, eyes vacant. Virgil was far too familiar with that look, with that feeling. He would have to be careful with the prince. He would have to keep an eye on the guy to make sure he didn’t spiral too hard. 

The raccoon seemed to sigh as he moved back to the discarded pack and began to di. His tiny hands pushed around this or that as he searched for what he needed. The worn leather tilted sideways as Virgil was forced onto his hind legs for better leverage the deeper he went. 

Finally, he produced a small dark stone bound with a dark cord, along with a small metal tool. He held it up to grip between his sharp jaws before disregarding the bag completely. 

 In the next instance, he was bounding towards Roman. He didn’t bother to hesitate before climbing the prince like a tree, scurrying up his stained clothing. The weight of the large Procyon had Roman stumbling to keep his balance, the feel of its paws on his person making him give an uncomfortable squeak of surprise.

“Warn a man!” he snapped a bit breathless, snapping out of the living nightmares swirling in his head. “I’m not accustomed to badgers having their way with me,” he paused as if considering it that was technically the truth. He was fairly certain that a certain badger-like individual from the neighboring kingdom didn’t count. “At least for the most part,” he clarified.

Virgil gave a small growl in response, but let the insult slide. He wasn’t quite sure if the prince was being facetious or if he truly were sheltered enough or stupid enough not to know the difference between a badger and a raccoon. Regardless, Virgil shifted so that his weight was mostly on the man’s shoulder before taking the parcel from his mouth and offering it out. 

The prince reached up to take the parcel from Virgil’s paw and examined it carefully before giving a sigh. 

“Even as a beast, you’re bossy,” he mumbled under his breath as Virgil jumped down. Roman really didn’t mind, of course. In all honesty, he was glad for the distraction as he moved to the mound of sticks and untied the bundle. 

It took a few strikes of the flint for the kindling beneath the wood to begin to crackle and smoke. He wasn’t the most skilled at building fires considering he hadn’t needed to light one for some years now. Everything had always been done for him, minus his interests. Perhaps, he was as useless as he felt. 

He shifted from where he knelt next to the wood, moving back a decent amount before crossing his legs beneath him and staring into the flames that were beginning to engulf the pile. The warmth of the dancing lights had his heart sinking. How many of his people had died? Why didn’t he stay and fight? Why did he allow himself to be chased from the only place he had ever called home? What was he to do now? Staying with Logan and Virgil, surely wouldn’t help his cause. Perhaps if he-

A chittering nudge against his side had him pulling from his spiraling thoughts as Virgil’s furry forehead pressed against him once more. He sat back on his plump rear, pulling the corner of what appeared to be another cloak from his mouth and offered it out. 

Roman would never admit it, but the image of raccoon Virgil’s little paws trying to wrap around the bulk fabric and offering it out to him as if he were worried that Roman would catch a cold, was perhaps the most adorable thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t help but give a small grateful smile as he accepted the blanket, wrapping it around himself. 

 A yawn escaped him, despite his efforts to trap it with the back of his hand. Virgil might be nocturnal, but Roman still hadn’t gotten much sleep with everything that had happened either. 

His gaze shifted towards the creature next to him. Virgil had curled into a ball, head resting on his paws as his eyes slid closed. The prince supposed he wasn’t that bad, all in all. A bit feisty maybe, but Roman had always enjoyed that quality in others.  

Roman didn’t really hesitate before shifting to pick the fur ball up with both hands. Startled and certainly not use to being man-handled, Virgil went into a clawing and hissing fit. His little arms and legs began to flail as Roman gentle moved him, dropping him into his lap. 

Virgil tensed as his feet landed, hackles still raised, realization of what exactly was happening slowly sank in. Roman deserved to have his eyes clawed for treating him in such a manner. Still, the man was radiating heat… and it was getting cold… 

Virgil shot him a heated glare, straining his neck to peer up at him tiredly, but complied. He shifted, making sure to knead at the prince’s thighs and causing him to give a sharp intake of breath at the pain it caused. With a huff, and before Roman could shoo him away, Virgil plopped down, curling into the dip of his legs. The raccoon gave another small content chirp before allowing his eyes to close.

……..

“If your visions brought you here, then you know if I’m going to help you or not,” Patton pointed out as he handed a small mug of tea to the lanky man currently sitting cross legged on his floor, still gloriously shirtless. He tried not to stare.

“Thank you,” Logan mumbled, accepting the offering. “Unfortunately, that is not the case. I had believed that the lapse in my visions was due to…” He paused, measuring how much he should say, “Due to another complication of my own making. However, now that I have met you, I believe it is something else entirely.”

“Oh?” Patton asked, smiling fondly as he picked up his own mug. 

“It seems that your existence within magic is so strong that it is blinding. I could not, and can not, see anything past my entrance into the cave,” Logan continued, taking a small sip of the surprisingly soothing liquid. “If you are indeed the cause, then I can only assume that you will agree to join us in our journey.” 

“Well, gosh Kiddo, that does make sense,” Patton admitted, setting his own mug aside, “or it is possible that you can’t see past the cave because you don’t leave.” 

The words had Logan tensing. He had thought of that as well, but hearing it from such a powerful being was terrifying; the fact that the words were spoken with such sweet fondness was also a bit dispiriting. 

“You’re just so darn cute! I just want to bundle you up and keep you forever!” Patton chirped excitedly. 

Logan wasn’t quite sure what to make of the creature before him. He had never had a functioning understanding of social interaction, which was why he remained in his cat form most of the time. Yet, he was at more of a loss than usual with this man. 

“I appreciate the compliment, Patton,” Logan offered a bit hesitant, not sure if that was the correct response, “but I’m afraid I cannot allow that. You see, while, in extension, I am here for my own gain, there is someone else that needs this more.” 

Patton’s smile faded at the words but he didn’t seem offended. No, if anything the creature seemed concerned as he studied the witch. 

“You mean, the man you’re siphoning off of?” he asked blatantly, causing Logan’s tension to increase. 

“How did you-” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. It didn’t matter. Dragons were powerful creatures whose abilities were no doubt far beyond what he currently comprehended. While his curiosity was a powerful force to be reckoned with, now was not the time. 

“Yes,” the witch admitted softly, shame filling him, “because of me, an innocent man who has wanted nothing for himself is suffering. I cannot allow this to continue. While I hope that we are able to find a solution that does not end in my death, I have come to terms with the possibility.” 

“Logan,” Patton breathed softly, a sadness in his eyes that Logan hadn’t expected to see. “What did you expect when you came here?” he asked softly.

“I…” Logan began but hesitated. What had he expected? He was so desperate for a way to save his companion that he wasn’t quite sure. He had blindly followed his visions in the hope that they could lead him to the answers he needed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I suppose I was hoping for answers.”

“Well, Kiddo,” Patton replied, smile finally returning, “That I can help with,” he bounced a bit in his chair, inching his small form to perch on the edge. “I’m good with answers! Granted, they are not always the ones you want. Most people track me down to either try and kill me or bribe me. People are generally selfish and driven by their own material desires. I can’t tell you how happy I am to meet someone as good-hearted as you, Logan.”

Logan could feel his face heating at the compliment. He had never considered himself ‘good’ in any aspect really. He had done such horrible things in the name of logic and progression. How could anyone describe him in such a way, especially someone like Patton?

“Give me your hand,” the dragon instructed, holding out his own palm. Logan hesitated briefly, setting aside his mug before complying. His hands practically dwarfed Patton’s as he used both to clasp Logan’s. If the witch wasn’t aware of just what Patton was, he would no doubt find the fact extremely endearing. 

The smaller man’s grip tightened almost painfully as he closed his eyes, causing Logan to glance up quickly. Patton had allowed his eyes to close, brows furrowing in concentration. His teeth dug into his bottom lip gently, worrying the pink flesh as he started to hum. 

Logan could suddenly feel the warmth radiating from the other man. It was intense, though not unpleasant, as it moved from his fingertips up the witch’s arm and slowly made its way through the rest of his body. 

Suddenly, Logan’s body jerked, causing a small cry to escape him as his soul was practically pulled from it’s vessel and into a world that was far too foreign and yet extremely familiar.

……..

Dark blues and blacks swirled around him, reminding him far too much of the night sky as Logan stepped forward. His gentle foot falls made no sound as he collided with the translucent floor beneath him. 

“What is this place? Where have you taken me?” he asked softly, voice echoing into the nothingness. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew that Patton was there but something just felt right about it. 

“Don’t worry, Kiddo,” the chipper voice came, small specs of lights beginning to appear with every word, “You’re completely safe here.” The lights swirled around him. They appeared to be some sort of star system. Logan knew the patterns. He would often gaze far, far into the future during those dark nights alone in his cell, when the only company he had was the pain of his wounds and the screams of the suffering individuals around him. He would gaze at the future, the people there so obsessed with the stars just as he was. He would watch as they built giant structures that could look upon massive collections of stars that they called galaxies. They were beautifully stunning. Each glimpse Logan managed was so breathtaking that he would forget the world around him. He would forget his own torment and suffering, the pain and poverty of the world around him, and instead commited the images to memory. 

The stars swirled around him, a small loving smile playing on his lips as he reached out for one, causing it to glow brightly. He recognized it. How could he not? 

“Procyon…” he whispered in awe. The star was the brightest object in the constellation that the future human race called Canis Minor. It would be the eighth-brightest star in the night sky when they eventually named it. It had been the first star Logan had ever glimpsed up close through his visions. He had instantly fallen in love. Of course, he could never tell Virgil about any of this. The fact that the star shared a name with the man was far too serendipitous. 

“It is beautiful,” Patton whispered softly next to him, peering around his lean figure and making Logan jump slightly. The witch couldn’t help but give another fond smile towards the star. 

“Yes,” he breathed softly, “it is. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen.” He supposed that was before he had met his first dragon. He tensed when he realized what he had said, flushing deeply at the omission. 

“That’s so sweet Logan! You shouldn’t be ashamed to feel such affection! It’s good to have passions!” Patton chittered excitedly, clapping his hands as he bounced.

“Where are we?” Logan asked again, determined to change the subject as he glanced about. 

“Somewhere between your current existence and the next,” Patton explained, taking his hand. “Come on, this way!” he urged before breaking into a run, dragging the witch along with him. 

Logan tried not to think about how perfectly Patton’s hand fit in his or how easily the touch was given. Most individuals tended to shy away from him once they discovered his nature. Perhaps that was why he wasn’t too keen on physical touch. 

The dark blue and black swirls shifted around them, ever changing, but never fading as they went. 

Patton pulled to a stop so suddenly that Logan stumbled to avoid colliding with the man, his feet sliding across the non-existent floor. 

“Awwww!!” the dragon squealed, letting go of Logan’s hand to applaud happily at the sight before him. 

A tall figure, wrapped in a dark cloak, face hidden beneath the edge, stood before them. Its arms were cradled around the black and white fur of a raccoon sleeping peacefully against its chest. 

“W-who is that?” Logan asked softly, fear beginning to dance along his spine. The feeling was irrational, there was nothing that came off as threatening about the individual as far as he could tell, and yet… his hands were shaking. 

“It’s you, silly,” Patton explained simply, smile still present. “Now, shush… lets see what happens.” 

The Anti-Logan pulled down his hood, revealing his mismatched feline eyes as he turned his head, glancing over his shoulder as another approached. 

“Prince Roman…” Real-Logan breathed in awe as the well dressed man approached the anti-Logan so casually. 

“A prince?!” Patton gasped, “how exciting!” 

Roman and Anti-Logan stood shoulder to shoulder, heads turned to peer at one another for a long moment before the raccoon began to stir. 

The raccoon’s whiskers twitched as he sniffed the air expectantly, gaze turning towards the prince. Roman glanced down, a small smile playing on his features before he offered out a hand to the raccoon. 

The beast sniffed the palm before chomping down on one of the prince’s fingers. Roman didn’t react to the bite as the raccoon began to hiss and scratch at him. 

“Aw! He’s so cute!” Patton cooed softly. 

“He has far too much venom, it is a hassle,” Logan admitted softly, still watching the scene play out. 

After a moment, the raccoon seemed to calm itself and Anti-Logan shifted, holding the beast out to the prince. Roman seemed to hesitate before taking the raccoon with both hands just under its arms. 

As soon as the creature had been passed off, Anti-Logan began to fade into the nothingness that surrounded them, leaving Roman and his new companion on their own.

Slowly, the raccoon’s form began to shift, his meager stature stretching until it formed the dark haired witch Logan had come to care deeply for. Virgil peered at Roman with the same purple-brown eyes as Anti-Logan, his expression affectionate. 

The sense of fear that  crept through Logan doubled. If this was an indication that Virgil was to fall in love then he was happy for it, but… but something was wrong… Something was off.

Suddenly, the smaller witch’s hand jerked forward, embedding in Roman’s chest,a smile still present on his features. 

“Oh… Dear…” Patton gasped.

Logan couldn’t even bring himself to make a similar noise of surprise. His eyes were glued to the horrific scene before him, knees threatening to give way.

Roman remained as he was, his soft expression still in place as he lifted a hand to rest on Virigl’s shoulder. 

However, Virgil jerked his hand back, blood splattering between the two of them as he removed a still beating organ from the prince’s chest. He brought it to his mouth taking a large bite of the bloody organ.  Roman’s body took  a moment to catch up with what had just happened. Then the prince collapsed before Virgil’s feet with an echoing thud . 

“No…” Logan finally whispered, tears threatening to fall as he watched Virgil bite into the bloody object. “No!” He snapped, the image disappearing. “This isn’t what will happen! Virgil is not a murderer!” 

……..

Suddenly, he gave a jerk, his soul returning to the body that now hunched over the small table before him. The pain of what he saw came rushing in, causing him to gasp as the tears ran down his chin, dripping onto the polished wood. 

“You’re wrong,” the sound of Logan’s cracked voice came, “That will not happen.”

“Logan,” Patton sighed softly, moving to rest a soft hand atop of the witch’s, causing him to jerk away. 

“You’re wrong!!” Logan snapped angrily, lifting his head to glare at the beast. 

“I’m not…” Patton breathed calmly, a pained look of concern apparent on his features. “You know as well as I do that  we do not control visions of the future.They are what they are. If your friend is to return to his human body…” he paused, glancing away as if ashamed to repeat it, “then the prince won’t survive.’

 To be continued...

 @hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @sumersnowlilly​ @aequinoctiale​

#Sanders sides #sanderssides #sander sides #sandersides #Logan sanders #logan #logic #logic sanders #patton sanders #patton #morality #morality sanders #roman #roman sanders #creativity #creativity sanders #virgil #virgil sanders #anxiety #anxiety sanders #ts logan #ts logic #ts logan sanders #ts logic sanders #ts patton sanders #ts patton #ts morality #ts morality sanders #ts roman #ts roman sanders

[thecatboyfriend-moved]

Friends on the Other Side

Chapter 5: Green Pancakes and Crochet

Last Chapter | Next Chapter (Updates weekly!)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings (in this chapter): Implied/Platonic Loceit (Logan/Deceit), implied/platonic Demus (Deceit/Remus), implied/platonic Intruloceit (Remus/Logan/Deceit)

Warnings (please tell me if there’s anything I should add!): Sympathetic Deceit and Remus, slight hypnosis, temper, tears, crying, implied fake hugs, swearing, mention of fire (no actual fire, pancakes got burnt), mention of stabbing, slight Remus angst, food, Logan angst

Word Count: 1903

Betas: @dragon-hair​

“Remus, I’m trying to make your stupid pancakes,” Deceit calls from the kitchen, his voice growing closer. “Can’t you just—, oh.”

Deceit has appeared in the hallway, still in his pajamas. He now has a spatula in hand and sympathy on his face. He rushes over, shoving his spatula towards Remus.

“Logan, what happened?” he asks, voice quickly slipping into that hypnotic tone. His hands have come up to Logan’s face, obviously wanting to comfort him, but waiting for permission. Logan leans into the touch.

“I lost my temper,” he mutters, refusing to meet Deceit’s eyes. He sighs as tears start to fall.

“Oh, Logan.” Deceit wipes the tears away with care. He cautiously brings Logan into a hug, making sure he knows he can pull away if needed.

Logan does quite the opposite, wrapping his arms loosely around the other’s neck. Deceit’s embrace really is different from Patton’s. Patton’s felt forced and fake. It made him sad and angry, and he wanted to run from it. Deceit’s makes him feel safe and wanted. It makes him happy and he doesn’t want to move out of his arms. He lets his head dip into Deceit’s neck, surely getting it wet with tears but not currently caring.

“Could I stay here for a little while?” Logan whispers under his ear. Deceit’s hold tightens just a bit around his torso.

“Of course,” he says. “As long as you need.”

Logan seems to relax at this. His shoulders and body un-tense, arms almost slipping and his head burrowing further into his neck. Deceit chuckles lightly.

“May I pick you up?” he asks. Logan just nods into his neck. Deceit carefully scoops the other up, carrying him towards the couch. It looks mostly the same to the couch downstairs and in Thomas’ house, except for a few strange looking pillows and a long snake plush along the back of the couch.

Deceit places Logan down softly onto the couch. His head ends up on a little pillow that says “Fuck” on it in all caps, along with some other small writing Logan can’t make out before it’s under his head.

“Is this okay or would you prefer to sit up?” Deceit asks. Logan shuffles a bit so he’s laying more comfortably then shrugs.

“This is alright,” he sighs.

“Dee!” Remus shouts from the kitchen. “The pancakes smell funny! Like fire!”

“Shit!” Deceit hisses. “Okay, so, I need to deal with that. I’ll have Remus get you a blanket and I’ll be right back.” With that, he hurries into the kitchen. Logan melts more into the profanity pillow, finding the couch surprisingly comfortable.

He hears some talking from the kitchen as he looks around the room a bit. The layout seems to be mainly the same as the other Commons. Tv in the corner, window, couch, kitchen. The biggest differences seem to be that the room is noticeably darker and there are two staircases. The one leading down is where Thomas’ door is and the other is where the normal staircase is, presumably leading up to the bedrooms.

“Hi!” Logan jumps at the exclamation. Remus has appeared in front of him, a large green and yellow blanket in his arms. “This is for you. Do you want me to put it on you or do you wanna do it?”

“Uh, you can I guess?” he says. Remus throws the blanket over him, making sure to completely cover him with it. Logan takes it off his head, adjusting it a bit. “Thank you.”

“Yep!” Remus says, smiling. He then flops onto the couch, just barely missing landing on Logan’s feet. While he does this, Logan inspects the blanket.

It’s large and quite obviously crocheted. The edge is black, forming a square border. Then a green square in the same shape, slightly smaller and closer to the middle. Then a yellow square, then green, then yellow, getting smaller and smaller, leading to a black square right in the middle.

“Did Deceit make this?” Logan asks. The blanket is high quality, but obviously homemade.

“Oh, no,” Remus laughs. “Gosh, give him a needle and he’d end up stabbing himself before getting two stitches done.” Remus giggles at this, but then his face turns a little sad. “No, uh, Virgil made it. Like a year before he...yeah.”

“Sorry,” Logan says, feeling a bit uncomfortable now. “Wait, I thought he sewed?”

“Sewed, crocheted, knitted, he did it all,” Remus explains. “He made us a lot of stuff. This blanket, some clothes, pillows, hell, he made some of the things on this couch. You’re actually laying on one of the pillows he made.“

Logan sits up, inspecting the pillows. There’s three, one of them a purple and black crotched pillow. It looks to be just a bit lower quality than the blanket, showing that it was made first.

“It looks nice,” Logan comments. Remus smiles at him, eyes a little sad. It’s a strange look on the side.

“Pancakes are done!” Deceit yells. Remus shoots off the couch and sprints into the kitchen, cheering. Logan moves the blanket off him, trying to be careful, and gets up, heading into the kitchen. Before he can get there, Remus walks out the kitchen with a big grin and...what the fuck it that?

In Remus’ hands is a plate of pancakes. Green pancakes. With a shit-ton of marshmallows on top. Drenched in maple syrup. Covered in sprinkles. What the fuck?

Remus skips past him and sits at the table, immediately tearing into the...food like it’s his last meal.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” Logan turns around quickly, not expecting to hear Deceit. He’s leaning against the doorway, looking at Remus strangely.

“How does he eat that?” Logan mutters.

“No idea.” Deceit laughs. “I mean, it’s burnt!” Logan chuckles at this. “Do you want breakfast? I’ll make you something, y’know, edible.”

“No, I usually have coffee first,” Logan answers, remembering what happened to his coffee earlier. “I had some earlier but, well, that didn’t really work out.”

“C’mon, I’ll make you some.” Deceit pushes himself off of the doorway and moves into the kitchen.

“What do you mean ‘it didn’t work out’?” Remus asks, talking with food in his mouth.

“Remus!” Deceit shouts from the coffee maker. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth, you fucking rat!” Remus swallows, then smiles over the half wall in front of him.

“Sorry, Danger Noodle!” Remus says with a laugh. He turns back to Logan, still grinning. “So, what happened? Ooo, please say you threw it at Roman! Oh, he’d scream!” Remus laughs, loud and happy, throwing his head back as he cackles.

Logan looks over to Deceit, who’s laughing too. Nowhere near as hard as Remus, but still very happy. It makes Logan smile, seeing the two sides he’s always known as bad so happy.

“While that does sound quite fun,” Logan cuts in. “I just dropped it.” Remus’ laughter finally dies down and he just smiles at Logan.

“If you ever get the chance, you should,” Remus says, turning back to his “breakfast”.

“Yeah, maybe,” Logan chuckles. He goes over to Deceit, who’s getting a mug out of the cabinet.

“This is the perfect mug for you, Logan.” He brings down a white mug and shows it to Logan. It’s plain except for black writing along the front that says, “I Like My Coffee Siriusly Black” in the Harry Potter font. “Like it?”

“Yeah,” Logan says with a smile.

“So, are you staying true to the pun or do you want creamer or something?”

“Black’s alright,” Logan answers as Deceit starts to make his coffee. “You don’t have to make it for me, you know. I can make it.”

Deceit pauses, looking over to the logical side. His mismatched eyes scan Logan like he’s trying to find something.

“I know,” he says, a little quiet. He sounds concerned. “But I want to make it for you. You deserve a break.”

Logan blushes a bit, looking anywhere but Deceit. Sure, it hasn’t been the best day, or two, but he doesn’t need to be babied. He can still make a coffee without crying. It’s not fair to make someone else do something he can easily do on his own.

“Logan.” He looks up at Deceit, who’s lips are turned down. “You’re alright. I make food and things for Remus all the time. It’s no trouble to make something for you, especially something as simple as coffee. If you really would like to make it, you can. But I’m perfectly okay with making it for you.”

Despite his voice now being normal, Deceit’s words are still very calming. It’s strange, having someone he’s always known as “bad” making him feel good.

“You can make it, if you want,” Logan says, smile returning. Deceit’s eyes crinkle a bit as he smiles right back. He reaches over and gently pats the shorter side’s head before turning back to the coffee maker.

“Now, what would you like for breakfast?” Deceit says casually, as if he didn’t just turn Logan into a flustered mess. “I need to make something for myself anyways, and I’m sure your idea of breakfast is better than that.”

He points toward to the gremlin at the table, who momentarily stops eating to wave at the pair with syrup-covered hands.

“I’ll never understand how he can eat that,” Logan sighs. “I usually have toast with Crofter’s but if you don’t like that, it’s fine.”

“That actually sounds really good,” Deceit says. “I don’t have any Crofter’s, but if you can get me some, I’d be happy to make it for you.” He ends his statement by handing Logan his coffee, who gladly takes it.

“I should have some in my room,” Logan replies before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Good!” Deceit smiles, moving away from Logan and to the pantry, opening it. “You can go ahead and go down the stairs. I’ll have Remus leave it open for you.” He pulls a loaf of bread out, bringing it back to the counter. “I’ll start making the toast, yeah?”

Logan just nods slowly, not taking the coffee away from his mouth for more than a few seconds. He really needed the caffeine.

“Alright, I’ll see you in a minute then,” Deceit says, working on the toast. Logan finally pulls his coffee away to smile at the snake side for what feels like the 100th time that morning.

“Okay.” Deceit turns away from Logan, looking to Remus, who;’s started licking the syrup and sprinkles off his plate.

“Ree, get in here and give me your plate,” Deceit scolds, though Logan can hear the smile in his voice. “And don’t lock the door.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun!” he exclaims, getting up nonetheless. He reaches through the opening and hands Deceit the plate. “Hey, if you see my dumb brother, give him some coffee for me, yeah?” Remus sends a little wink to Logan, who’s started to make his way over to the stairs.

“Sure,” Logan chuckles. He heads to the door, opening it and exiting, making sure to shut the door behind him. As he heads down, he can’t help but think about how it took just a few minutes for Logan to feel more welcome with the so-called “Dark Sides” than he’s ever felt with the others.

It really is strange how much he wishes he could stay with them.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @rollingaroundin-bread​ @dragon-hair​ @chamikhan​ @power-in-plain-sight​ @troyaxbb​ @peachplumfight​ @angels-are-beautiful​ @sombraookami @thewhiteraven73 @the-sharpest-lives 

#thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #ts remus #sympathetic remus #sympathetic dark sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #fatigued fiction #fotos au

[izzyfandoms]

Romilemas - White

This is one of many, many ficlets I am posting on Christmas day. Hope you enjoy!

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1 @yourneighborhooddisaster @alexxander-the-gay @full-of-roman-angst-trash

Masterpost

Outside of the window was a garden full of almost entirely white. It was beautiful, but it was also so very cold.

White was everywhere on Christmas: in the snow, the decorations, the marshmallows and whipped cream on the hot chocolate Emile was handing him. It was a pretty colour, working well with the red and the green and it was one of Roman's favourites.

Roman smiled as he carefully took the mug that immediately handed to him. He thanked him, and the turned back to the window, before what Emile was wearing suddenly registered in his head and he turned back to Emile.

"Oh my gosh! Is that your new dress? It looks divine on you, my love!"

Emile smiled. "Aww, thank you, honey! I don't usually wear white, but I think I like it. I like the way the skirt moves."

"You look gorgeous, as you always do, my dear, but that dress looks particularly lovely on you."

"You are the lovely one," Emile said. "I'm just surprised I haven't spilled anything on it yet," he joked.

Roman laughed. "I am sure you won't. I believe in you." His gaze then shifted to the door, and he leant close to it and called out: "Thomas, darling, have you seen Emile's new dress?"

It took a moment, but then Thomas popped his head through the doorway, his eyes immediately landing on Emile's new dress.

"Oh, wow, you look great!"

#me #writing #romilemas #thoromile #rothomile #sanders sides #cartoon therapy #emile picani #roman sanders #thomas sanders #character thomas #fluff #human au

[flowerpowell]

The Boy Next Door (Colt x MC ? / Logan x MC ?)

PART FIFTEEN

A/N: This is the last chapter! And the epilogue is being worked on too! I really hope you’ll like it and thank you SO much for reading and reblogging, commenting, liking and supporting this series. I meant A LOT to me. Characters belong to Pixelberry. 

Rating: PG-16

Word count: 1911

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @desiree-0816 @lovehugsandcandy @walkerduchess @liamzigmichael4ever @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @hellomynameisdevi @client-327 @badchoicesposts @blackcatkita @pixel-thirsty @drakeismyweakness @donutsgirl36 @miss-raleigh-carrera @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @lovemychoices @mskaneko @missameliep @cora-nova ♥

“Ugh, the jet lag is killing me,” Ellie murmured, inhaling the scent of her coffee in hopes it would wake her up.

“You know, you can’t really blame jet lag if you’ve been here for over a month,” Logan noticed and Ellie looked at him narrowing her eyes.

“I can blame whatever I want,” she stuck out her tongue at him. “Why are you so happy, though? Where do you get your energy?”

“I dunno. I just love it here. My classes are amazing, the people I met are cool, my job is going great. You’re here too. I can’t complain, really.” He took a sip of his tea and Ellie rolled her eyes.

“I miss my bed. I’m tired of having a panic attack anytime I see someone driving on the wrong side of the road. And it is freezing here.”

Ellie wrapped her fingers around the mug and closed her eyes listening to the noises of a campus cafe. The past month was very... interesting, to say the least. Nothing bad happened but Ellie had the hardest time adusting to a new country, new university and a new lifestyle. Copared to Logan who seemed to love being there, Ellie counted down the days till she could go back. She missed her dad, she missed her professors, she missed Riya, she missed Annya. And no matter how hard she tried to hide it, she missed Colt the most.

They talked every day, sometimes even twice a day. He called at times that were the most convenient for Ellie and at some point she found out he would stay up late just to talk to her. They talked about Ellie’s classes, about Colt reuniting with his mother, about Logan who was living his best life. The only thing they didn’t discuss was them. It almost felt like a taboo subject but she knew from her conversations with Annya that he missed her too.

They also never talked about what would happen after her London adventure. She wasn’t sure where she would go, back to California to her father? Find a new appartment in Colt’s neighborhood? It was driving her insane but she tried to not to think too much about it.

Ellie tried not to doze off when Logan was telling her something that happened during one of his classes. She smiled involuntarily. He was always very excited when talking about his classes and Ellie was really happy for him. Everything was good between the two of them and she was glad to have a friend like him in her corner. They even went to a weekend trip to Paris because Logan refused to spend the money he earned for it on anything else.

“Logan, seriosuly, I can’t... You don’t have to spend the money on me anymore. We’re not a couple or anything.”

“But we’re friends. And I want to take you there as an apology for lying to you. Come on, I know you want to go there. Please?”

“Ughh, okay. You don’t have to but if you must, I’ll go. After all I lied to you, too.”

Logan raised his eyebrow trying not to laugh. “Oh poor you. Going to Paris with me is such an awful punishment for almost cheating on me with Colt. How will you bear so much suffering?”

The trip was very successful and Ellie sent tons of pictures to Colt, Annya and her Dad. Colt was a little jealous at first, even though he tried to hide it, but Ellie explained it to him that her and Logan would never be able to be more than friends. And she was okay with that.

“Ellie?” Logan’s voice brought her back to reality. “Maybe you should skip classes today? You look really tired. I could drive you back to your dorm,” he offered concerned.

“Yeah... I think I need a break today. Thank you.”

As soon as she entered her room, she jumped on her bed and fell asleep. Her phone woke her up a few hours later.

“Mmm, hello?” She rubbed her eyes trying to get out of bed and turn on the light.

“Ellie? You sound... different. Is everything okay?” Colt’s voice was full of concern, which made her heart skip a beat. He cares.

“I just woke up from a nap. Was tired all day,” she murmured sleepily and Colt let out a chuckle.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“No, it’s fine. What’s up?”

“I met my grandparents today. My mom’s parents. By the way, she says hi.”

Ellie smiled at the words and closed her eyes, climbing back to bed. She might as well make herself comfortable. “And? What they’re like?”

“A couple of assholes. No wonder my mom doesn’t like them. They suck.”

“Colt!”

“No seriously! They were complaning all the time about everything. Why I never reached out to them sooner, and it’s not like I just found out they existed. Why I look so much like my father, why I don’t look like my grandfather, who apparently was very handsome when he was younger. Well, I couldn’t tell because he looked like a fucking raisin. And then my grandma told me to stop wearing my leather jacket because I look like a cultist. And she got offended when I said I was in an anti-grandparents cult. Then she proceeded to criticize my mother. I’m tellin’ you. Assholes.” She couldn’t see Colt but she could tell he was rolling his eyes in this very ‘Colt’ manner. She chuckled.

“Well then, I’m glad I didn’t have to meet them,” she said stifling a yawn.

“Ellie? You’re tired. Go to sleep a little earlier and I’ll call you before your classes tomorrow, okay?”

“Mhm, okay! Love you!” she blurted and her eyes widened as she realized what she just said.

No... No... Please, no.

“Ahem, okay then, I... I’ll call you umm...tomorrow. Night!”

Ellie hang up and facepalm herself hard.

Did I just say I loved Colt? Yes.

Did he hear it? Probably yes.

Did he say it back? No.

Does he feel the same? Probably not.

Did I scare him? Most likely.

Am I an idiot? Totally.

She buried her face in her hands. She didn’t mean to say it, at least not like that. They were still figuring things out and now she ruined everything.

“UGH!!!” She groaned. Colt didn’t say anything back. He was probably surprised too.

Maybe he didn’t hear it...

Maybe I can pretend I never said that. Maybe it was nothing.

~~~~

Colt didn’t call before her classes.

Ellie waited for him to call but she gave up when it was already time to leave.

He heard.

And he is avoiding me.

Great.

She didn’t pay attention to her classes that day at all. She didn’t even notice Logan driving her back home. She was done with London and she wanted to go back home. Wherever it was.

She came back to her dorm, turned on TV and mindlessly watched different shows for a few hours. It was almost uncanny how much the lack of conversation with Colt affected her. Her days were much better when she could hear his voice at least for a few minutes.  

I need to go on a rehab.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was already late in the evening and she didn’t expect anyone. She wanted to ignore at first but the knocking didn’t stop for a few minutes.

“I’m coming!” She groaned and crawled out of bed. She opened the door and her heart stopped. It was either a dream or she was hallucinating.

“Hi,” Colt said nervously as she started at him. He walked inside and closed the door while Ellie was still in shock.

“C-Colt? What are you doing here?”

“I-- I don’t know.” He ran one hand through his hair and looked at her. “I-- I thought it was all over and I prayed for a sign and when you blurted out those three words, well, two, I thought...”

“You heard it.” It was more of a statement than a question and Colt nodded.

“I... did. And I... I figured it was true and I wanted to take a leap of faith and come here. It gave me hope that maybe there’s still a chance.”

“Chance? Chance for what?” She asked and Colt’s expression softened.

“I don’t know much about feelings, emotions and crap like this. I don’t know how to be with someone, I don’t know what it’s like to have a normal, healthy relationship but I would like to try it if... if you want it too.”

“Colt? Are you...?”

“I,” he swallowed hard and closed his eyes before opening them again and locking them with Ellie’s confused eyes. “I think I love you, Ellie. No, wait, I ruined it, I know I love you. No wait, it still sounds bad, I--”

“You... you do?” Ellie’s eyes welled up with tears as Colt nodded. “Oh my gosh, I thought you didn’t feel anything for me anymore.”

“What? How could-- No, Ellie, I was worried you hated me after I told you to get out. I thought I messed up for good. And when I heard you saying these words I thought... I thought that maybe there’s still a chance?”

“So you came to London?” Ellie couldn’t believe it. Maybe it was indeed a dream.

“Well, yeah. I missed you. Home is not home without you. Ellie,” he took her hands in his as he looked into her eyes. “I know I screwed up. I know I’m not perfect, hell, I’m the opposite. I know I suck at showing I like someone and I have many, many, maaaany issues. But I promise, if you’ll take me, to work on them, on myself, on everything for you. I know I don’t deserve you after all you’ve done for me and after all I’ve done to you but if you’re willing to forgive me I would like to ask you for a second chance. I want to be whatever you want me to be, your boyfriend, your best friend, your shelter from any storm in your life, your roomate, anything, Ellie, just say I word and I’m yours.”

Ellie sniffed as tears were rolling down her cheeks.

He loves me. He loves me!

And I love him too.

“Ellie? Please say something or I’ll die.”

Ellie let out a laugh as she threw her arms around his neck pulling him closer. She kissed him and he kissed her back and she never felt happier in her life. Their kisses were slow but passionate, full of love and hope. Full of promises and new beginnings. He deepened the kiss, pulling her even closer and she put her hands in his hair.

“I love you too, Colt. So much,” she said breathlessly between the kisses. She’d never seen Colt being so happy. He lifted her effortlessly and spun her around, peppering her face with gentle kisses. They stayed like that, kissing in the middle of Ellie’s dorm room, for a few minutes before pulling away. Colt rested his forehead against hers as both of them tried to catch their breaths.

“Ellie?” Colt asked, his breathing still heavy.

“Mhmm?”

“Let’s go home.”

#ride or die: a bad boy romance #colt kaneko #colt x mc #colt kaneko x mc #rod colt #rod logan #choices #choices rod #rod #ride or die: bad boy romance #playchoices