#paternal moxiety

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

On Death's Doorstep (pt 34/?)

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Word count: 1448

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Anxceit, familial Moxiety

Warnings: kidnapping, past domestic abuse

~~~START~~~

The twins made for a very effective moving service, moving all of Roman’s stuff down to the third floor and what little stuff Virgil, Patton, and Remy had up to the fourth floor in just over an hour.

The best part of Roman’s apartment was that there were two bedrooms. Patton was already used to the guest room, so Virgil had Remy take the main bedroom. She’d tried to refuse, saying that Virgil should have the room after spending almost a year sharing a room with his son, but Virgil insisted.

Remy had her space, Patton had his, and Virgil was sleeping on the couch. It was fine, really.

Virgil was doing fine.

Logan’s mother, Babs, had come down to join them for dinner; Logan had not joined them on account of Remy refusing to be in the same room as him. Remy had been hesitant about her paternal grandmother at first — so had Virgil if he was being honest, and he would have to be honest seeing as how Janus had told him that Babs was clairvoyant — but Babs hadn’t pushed, and by the time she left, Remy had been more relaxed around her than she’d been earlier.

Once Babs had gone, Roman left to get settled into his new space, with Remus following behind. Remy disappeared into her room soon after, leaving just Virgil, Patton, and Janus in the living area.

“You know, you could come stay with me, if you wanted,” Janus offered.

The three of them had moved to the living room so Patton could watch a little bit of My Neighbor Totoro before bed. Patton was already pretty tuckered out, as evidenced by the way he had tucked himself into Virgil’s side, but he was putting up a valiant effort to watch the movie.

“That’s a sweet offer, Jan, but I don’t want to be so far away from Patton.”

“I have a spare room,” Janus tried, but Virgil was already shaking his head.

“Remy needs to have an adult she can trust around right now, and I’m the only one here who currently fits the bill. Besides, all those stairs will help you get your steps in,” Virgil teased.

Janus stuck their tongue out. “I’ve asked Logan several times to put an elevator in, but he insists that taking the stairs is better.”

“How’d he get all the furniture up the stairs?” Virgil wondered aloud.

“He animated it all to take themselves upstairs, and the twins took everything that could talk for itself.”

The conversation petered out after that, and it wasn’t long before Virgil noticed Patton struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, shaking Patton gently. “How ‘bout we finish this tomorrow, huh? I think it’s time for bed.”

“‘M not tired, daddy,” Patton mumbled, rubbing his eyes in an extremely convincing manner.

“Well, I’m tired,” Janus declared slyly. “And I don’t want to miss the ending, would it be alright if I came back tomorrow so we could finish it?”

“Promise,” Patton demanded, sticking his pinky finger out.

“Cross my heart,” Janus swore, linking their fingers solemnly.

“Okay,” Patton agreed, releasing Janus’s finger and slumping back into Virgil. “Daddy, will you carry me? I’m tired.”

“Sure, kiddo,” Virgil said, wrapping his arms around his son and standing up from the couch.

Janus stood as well.

“Goodnight, Patton,” they said, kissing Patton’s forehead in a move they were beginning to grow used to. “Goodnight, V.”

They kissed him goodnight as they usually did, but instead of pulling away, they brought their foreheads together.

“My offer stands. Maybe when Remy gets more settled, you and Patton can move in with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” Virgil promised. “Goodnight, Jan–”

An I love you almost slipped from his mouth, but he snapped his jaw shut before it could. Janus smiled like they already knew, then turned and left.

Virgil got Patton settled into bed pretty quickly, and the five-year-old was out before his head even hit the pillow. There were spare bed sheets in the hall closet, so Virgil laid them out over the couch for himself; Remy briefly came out of her room at this point to get herself a glass of water before bed, so she and Virgil exchanged their goodnights as well.

Still, Virgil was too keyed up from the almost-love confession to even attempt to get any kind of sleep yet, so he turned the TV to some mindless programming to try to get himself settled. The first channel he tried was playing some sort of divorce court, which Virgil thought might work, but which quickly proved to dredge up painful memories and anxious feelings, so he switched to a home renovation show instead.

He let his mind wander to Janus as the host of the show swung a sledgehammer at a kitchen cabinet. It was strange that just a few weeks ago he’d been hesitant to admit he and Janus were going on a date, and now he was almost letting the L-word slip out in casual conversation.

Virgil could imagine a life with Janus. Janus would have their law practice and occasionally commit crimes — something Virgil could condone as long as they weren’t hurting any civilians — and Virgil would raise Patton and… well, he wasn’t sure what he would want to do. He could become a vigilante, or maybe a doctor, neither of those really appealed to him, but he did have the necessary skill set to do either, even if he’d technically be cheating about being a doctor.

When he was in high school, he’d thought about becoming an astrophysicist, but that dream seemed so far away now. He didn’t even have a bachelor’s degree.

The TV was still playing a home renovation show, but the host had changed, and the house was different. Virgil could go to bed now, but, ever the masochist, he turned on the news instead.

A fateful choice.

The news was playing footage from earlier in the day, it was a CCTV video of a supervillain attack at the city’s mall with newscasters detailing how the supervillain — Whiplash, or something — had attacked the mall, and abducted two civilians.

Despite the poor video quality, Virgil would recognize his dads anywhere. The villain’s power beams first seized Nico, then, when his dad tried to help, grabbed Thomas as well.

No one else was taken, and nothing had been stolen. The villain had caused some damage, grabbed Virgil’s dads, and only Virgil’s dads, and fled when law enforcement arrived.

The newscasters continued to speak, and eventually moved on to a new story, but Virgil wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t stupid, he knew it was probably a trap — the odds that his dads, who didn’t even live locally, were the ones taken…

It had to be a trap, and whoever set it must know that Virgil knew it was a trap.

There wasn’t even a question as to what Virgil’s next move would be. He found a pen and some paper and wrote four letters. He folded up the letters and addressed them on the back.

First, he teleported into Remy’s bathroom and left the one addressed to her on the counter, then he teleported to Patton’s room. He didn’t leave the note addressed to Patton on the bedside table, but instead took in the sight of his son one last time.

The glasses that Logan had made for Patton were folded up on the bedside table, and Patton’s face was peaceful with sleep. He frowned slightly in his sleep, but Virgil forced himself to calm down, and soothed his hand over a small, clenched fist. Once Patton had settled once more, Virgil kissed his forehead, and left.

He teleported directly into Janus’s room without any assurance that his partner was asleep — maybe he’d been hoping to get caught. Janus was asleep and didn’t seem to register Virgil’s presence at all.

Virgil left the last three letters on Janus’s nightstand. The top one was addressed to Janus themself; the second one to Patton, to be delivered when Janus saw fit; and the third one was addressed to Thomas and Nico, should Janus ever find themself in the presence of Virgil’s dads. With one final look, Virgil left.

He had to cross the threshold of the building physically as Logan had a barrier set up around the entire building — which had been beneficial when Virgil had been power-sick and unable to control his teleporting — but once he was on the front stoop, all he had to do was pull at the — faint — connection to his dads, and go.

A trap? Almost definitely, but then, Virgil was well-versed in putting everyone else before himself.

~~~END~~~

:))))

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remy sanders #anxciet #familial moxiety #superhero au #on death’s doorstep #thursday writes #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

[randomslasher]

Chillin’ with the parents!

Moceit with paternal anxceit/moxiety is my jam now. Janus and Patton are mom and dad and Virgil is their angsty teen son. I don’t make the rules. 

#moceit #ts spoilers #paternal moxiety #paternal anxceit

[brother-lipsmackariah]

Platonic Moxiety my beloved

This is my favourite relationship from the entire series (which just so happens to include the only two Sides I truly care about)

#Virgil and Patton #Virgil #Patton #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Ts Virgil #Ts Patton #Parental Moxiety #Paternal Moxiety #Familial Moxiety #Platonic Moxiety #Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides fanart #Thomas Sanders #my art #patdad

[random-snippets]

Second Chance

Summary: Human AU Virgil has a conversation with his adoptive father after a getting into a fight at school. 

Characters/Pairings: Romantic Moceit, paternal Anxceit and Moxiety

Notes: This is an AU that popped fully-formed into my head and I have tons of background info about it if anyone’s curious. All the Moceit feels right now, amirite?

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia, references to homophobic slurs, mentions of violence (schoolyard fight), mentions of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, self-deprecating thoughts, abandonment issues. Let me know if I missed anything I need to warn for! 

*

A soft knock on Virgil’s door made him flinch, but he sighed, reaching up and pulling his headphones off his head. Time to face the music. “Come in,” he mumbled. 

The door creaked open, and his dad’s fiance poked his head in. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Can I come in?” 

“Already said you could.” Virgil shifted and reached up to brush his hair out of his face, wincing when his fingers bumped his bruised right eye. 

“So you did.” Janus stepped into the bedroom and closed the door softly behind himself. Virgil swallowed, anxiety ratcheting up a little, and Janus paused, giving him a look that Virgil knew all too well. The one that said ‘I just read you like an open book.’ “Do you want me to leave it open?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Don’t care,” he said, but the thought of being locked in with Janus--with anyone--still frightened him. He just sort of hated that Janus knew that, and knew without having to ask. 

Janus raised his eyebrows, hand still lingering on the knob. “Second chance?” he offered. 

Virgil sighed and slumped. “Maybe a little bit open?” 

Janus nodded and opened the door about a foot. It was enough that Virgil could hear his dad (Patton? Should I be calling him Patton again? Or maybe--oh God please no--maybe Mr. Sanders?) in the kitchen, busy with dinner preparations. The sounds would have been comforting and familiar, if it hadn’t been for the notable absence of the usual string of singing, whistling, or talking to himself Patton usually engaged in. He swallowed again, wishing he could bury his face in his arms, but along with his eye, his lip was split and swollen, and while the nurse had claimed his nose to be unbroken, it still felt pretty awful. He’d stuffed two wads of toilet paper into his nostrils to stem the flow of blood, and he realized he hadn’t taken them out yet. He did so now, crumpling the blood-soaked tissue in his fist. 

“You here to yell at me?” he mumbled, as Janus moved to settle into Virgil’s desk chair across from the bed. 

“Do I look like I’m here to yell at you?” 

“I hate it when you do that.”

The corner of Janus’s mouth twitched up. “Do what?” 

“Answer a question with another question. I hate when you get all...shrink-y.” 

Janus’s smile grew fractionally. “All right, then. Let me ask a different question. Do you want me to yell at you?”

Virgil shrugged one shoulder. In truth, he kind of wished someone would. Yelling he was used to; yelling made sense. 

Instead, when Patton had picked him up from school after the principal had called him in, his dad had just asked him quietly if he was okay, and if he wanted to talk about it. When Virgil had nodded at the first question and shaken his head at the second, Patton had merely turned his attention to the road to finish the drive home in silence. But there’d been a flash of something in his eyes--something that Virgil was terrified had been disappointment--and when he’d fled to his room the moment they’d gotten home, Patton hadn’t tried to stop him. 

It was that, more than anything, that had him so terrified now. If he’d disappointed Patton...what would that mean? Would he change his mind about letting Virgil stay? Would he...un-adopt him? Surely you could do that, right? His mom had given him up and she’d actually given birth to him so surely if all you did was adopt someone, if all it was was paperwork, there were ways to undo it, right? And it wasn’t like it had been that long ago, either. Maybe there was like...a 90-day money back guarantee or something. Not completely satisfied with your screw-up of a kid? No problem! Bring him on back to Kids-R-Us, and we’ll be happy to find you a better one! Refunds and exchanges welcome anytime! 

Shit.

“Well, whether you want me to or not, no, I’m not here to yell at you,” Janus cut into his cycle of terrified thoughts, and when Virgil looked up, he found his...his brain always faltered here. What was Janus? His dad’s fiance? His stepdad? They’d said to just think of him as his dad too but was that right? He didn’t know Janus, not as well as Patton; he’d been busy working on his book and then away on the signing and lecture tour and sure they’d skyped a lot but Janus hadn’t had to deal with him, not like Patton had. Janus didn’t know him. Janus probably saw him as another screwed up kid he could write a case study about, not as a son. 

And now he was the kid who’d upset his fiance. 

“So if you don’t want to yell at me, what do you want, then?”  

“I want to know what happened.” 

Virgil lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I got in a fight.” 

“Over what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I very much doubt that.” Virgil looked up and saw Janus regarding him knowingly, in that way he did that drove Virgil crazy. If the X-men were real, this would be what it felt like to have Professor Xavier reading your mind. 

“It was just a stupid fight with some stupid kids from my stupid class,” Virgil said. “I don’t know what you want from me. I won’t do it again.” 

“Won’t you?” 

Virgil frowned. “What?” 

“Well,” Janus lifted one leg and crossed it over the other, folding his hands on his knees and tipping his head. The effect would’ve been sort of comical if things hadn’t felt so serious. “If the circumstances that caused this fight were to recur, or ones similar to it, wouldn’t your response be similar?” 

Virgil snorted, then winced when his bruised and battered nose protested the decision. “You sound like Logan.” 

Janus smiled. “There are worse people to sound like. Your uncle’s a smart guy.” 

“He’s not my uncle.”

“Isn’t he? He’s your dad’s brother.” 

“Patton’s not my dad.” Virgil meant to sound tough and confident. Instead it came out sort of choked and muffled. Maybe he’d made his nose clog up when he’d snorted a second ago.

“I have a piece of paper from the state department of health and human services that suggests otherwise.” Janus’s voice was light, but almost unbearably gentle, too, and Virgil scowled, hating that his eyes were beginning to sting. 

“So? It’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“I think Patton would be very sad to hear you say that,” Janus said softly, and when Virgil looked up, he saw an echo of that same sadness on his face.

“Why?” Virgil said thickly. He reached up and rubbed at the top of his lip gingerly, under his nose, which was beginning to trickle. “I just keep screwing up. Why would he want to keep me? Why would either of you?” 

Janus lifted the box of tissues from Virgil’s desk and handed them over wordlessly; Virgil took one and began to gingerly dab at his aching nose. Dammit. He hated crying, but it was so much worse after getting beaten up. 

“You didn’t screw up,” Janus said. “You got into a fight. Thirteen-year-old boys do that.” 

“Yeah, well, at least some of them win sometimes,” Virgil groused. “I just get my a--my butt kicked.” It figured: he couldn’t even get in trouble right. 

“Did you ever learn how?” 

“What?” Virgil looked up at his stepfather, too startled by the words to remember to be upset. “What do you mean?” 

Janus shrugged. “I mean, did anyone ever really teach you how to hold your own in a fight? Especially when you’re outnumbered against a group of opponents bigger than you are?” 

Virgil blinked. “I...I mean...no?” 

“Well, what did you do? When the fight started, I mean?” 

“I...” Virgil stared at him. “I dunno, I punched the guy?” 

“Which one?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“There was more than one boy, right?” 

“How did...how did you know that?” 

“Well, bullies tend to travel in packs. They’re cowardly like that. Did you go for the leader?” 

Virgil shrugged. “No, I...the one that was closest, I guess. He was smaller.” He’d still been huge next to Virgil, but at the time he’d seemed slightly less dangerous than the hulking monster of a seventh grader who’d seemed to be in charge.

Janus nodded. “Always go for the leader,” he said. “Like I said, bullies are cowards. If you take down the leader they usually scatter.” 

“I mean, I feel like he would’ve kicked my...my butt either way,” Virgil said. “The guy was fu--freaking huge.” 

“Heavy-set? Or tall?” 

“Both, I guess.”

“Heavyset isn’t always a bad thing,” Janus said. “Heavier boys are often slower than smaller ones. Tall is the problem. His reach is longer than yours.” Janus sat up and held his fists in a boxing stance, then extending his arm. It came just to Virgil’s chin. “Try to reach me with your arm.” Virgil did; his fist barely reached past Janus’s elbow. “See? I’ve got like two feet of reach on you; you’re never gonna get in a good hit if I’m on my guard. 

“So what do I do?” 

“Hit them with something unexpected. Your legs--that’s where you’ve got some reach. A bully coming in for a punch is going to put himself within kicking distance, and you can usually get in a good hit and incapacitate him pretty quick. Just gotta practice your front kick.”

“Wh--why...why are you teaching me to fight?” Virgil asked, abruptly aware of just how absurd this whole conversation felt. “Shouldn’t you tell me to run away and find a teacher?” 

“It’s foolish to assume that will always be an option,” Janus said, sitting back. “Maybe in a perfect world, but...” 

“I feel like in a perfect world bullies wouldn’t be trying to beat me up in the first place,” Virgil grumped.

Janus grinned, looking pleased, and it sent a thrilled, proud little shiver up Virgil’s spine. “Touche. So since we’ve established the world we’re in isn’t perfect, it’s important you know how to defend yourself, isn’t it?” 

“I mean...yeah, but...I dunno, I feel like grown ups are supposed to tell you to like...be the bigger person, turn the other cheek, some bullsh--some stupid...thing like that.” 

Janus glanced at the open doorway, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and regarding him seriously. “Virgil, let’s make a deal: as long as you promise not to do it in front of Patton, when you and I are talking, you can curse a few times.” 

Virgil perked up a bit. “How many times?” 

“Five times per conversation.” 

“Ten.” 

“Seven. Final offer.” 

“Deal.” Virgil giggled, as Janus extended his hand and shook his solemnly. “Okay,” he said. “So aren’t grownups supposed to tell you to be the better person or some...bullshit like that?” It felt very strange, saying that word in front of Janus--indulgent, like sneaking a cigarette out of an unwatched purse. 

“Maybe.” Janus shrugged. “To be honest, I’ve never been that great at being a responsible grownup. I leave that to your dad.” 

Virgil barely stopped himself from snorting again. “Dude. You’re literally a doctor.” 

“I have a PhD, yes.” 

“In child psychology.” 

“Exactly.” Janus arched one eyebrow conspiratorially. “I studied child behavior. Not grownup.” 

Virgil laughed in spite of himself. “Oh my God, you are suck a fucking dork.” Fucking was a little too intense, and it didn’t taste as good on his tongue as bullshit had; it was an overindulgence, like puking after trying to smoke that stolen cigarette. “Freaking dork,” he said softly, lowering his eyes and hoping Janus didn’t call him on his backpedaling. 

Janus merely shrugged. “No arguments there.” 

“How’d you learn how to fight, anyway?” Virgil decided to get the conversation back on track. “I mean, like...who taught you?” 

Janus regarded him for a second calmly. Then he said: “Well, I learned in the system. Some of the bigger boys in my foster house thought I should know how, considering, well.” He pointed at the side of his face and smirked. 

Virgil, however, had stopped smiling; the expression had fallen from his face the second the words had hit him. In the system. “You...you were in the foster system?” 

Janus nodded. “I was.” 

“Wh--when did--why didn’t you--?” 

“Why didn’t we tell you?” Janus finished, and Virgil nodded hard, hair flopping into his face. He brushed it away without thinking, then winced when his fingers again brushed the bruised flesh around his eye. 

“Did Patton give you an ice pack for that?” Janus asked, seeing his wince. 

“Yeah, but it melted.” 

“As ice does. Want to get another one? I think your eye is starting to swell a bit.”

“In a minute.” As soon as they went downstairs, Virgil was afraid this--whatever it was, this spell that had fallen between them--it would go away, and he had to know. He had to have answers. Because if Janus had been in the system... “Why were you in the system? How long? What happened to your parents?”

“Getting right to it, aren’t we?” 

“I...” Virgil cringed, realizing it was probably impolite to ask questions like that--or worse, that doing so may have opened old wounds. This was probably why they didn’t tell you, he chastised himself. They knew you’d be an asshole about it.

He flushed, ashamed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--” 

“No, no,” Janus said softly. “It’s okay. You deserve to know, and I’m...happy to share.” 

Virgil looked up at the slight hitch in Janus’s voice. “Second chance?” he offered quietly.

Janus smiled. “Okay,” he admitted, “I’m willing to share, which amounts to the same thing, and if it helps you feel like you really belong here with Patton and me, then I’m happy for that. What do you want to know?” 

Virgil hesitated. “How many questions do I get?” 

“Hmm.” Janus considered. “Let’s say five for tonight. Otherwise we might miss dinner.” 

Virgil smiled sheepishly. “Okay. Um. How long?”

“Thirteen years.” 

“Whoa.” Virgil’s eyes widened. Janus had been in the system longer than he had? “How old were you?”

“When I got in or when I got out?” 

“I guess...both?” 

“You sure about that? If I give you one, you can do the math and figure out the other on your own, and save yourself a question.” 

“Shit! Okay yeah, just...how old were you when you got put in?” 

“Five.” 

“Five.” Virgil frowned, then said, “You...got out at 18?” 

“I did.” Janus’s face, like his voice, was calm and quiet, but Virgil understood something about it--something he realized had always been there, but hidden, like fish swimming below the ice of a frozen lake. 

His heart sank as the real reason for that deep, long-buried sadness finally dawned on him. “You were never adopted,” he whispered. 

“No,” Janus agreed. “I wasn’t.” 

“You never got a family?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

Virgil frowned, before the meaning of Janus’s words sunk in, making him feel at once like he might laugh and cry. He swallowed, scooting back and resting against the headboard of his bed, wrapping his arms around his knees, as though he might be able to contain the strange emotion swelling inside him.

Janus watched him for a second, then said, “Mind if I join you up there? This chair wasn’t really made for adult butts.” 

Virgil smiled weakly at what he understood was Janus’s attempt to cheer him up, and nodded, watching as the man climbed up onto the bed and settled beside him. He didn’t try to hug Virgil, as Patton might have, but settled close enough that he would be easy to reach out and touch, if Virgil needed. Janus leaned his head back against the wall, and sighed. “Much better,” he declared. 

Virgil found himself studying him, as Janus sat quietly, apparently willing to wait for the next question as long as it took Virgil to ask it. His eyes trailed along the marks on the man’s face: spatters of dark red splotches across his cheekbone and jaw, and along one side of his nose. A port wine stain, Patton had told him it was called; just a harmless birthmark. Virgil had always been impressed by the way Janus had refused to cover it up with make-up. Impressed, and kind of glad; he always thought it looked kinda cool, like dragon scales or something.

Still, he doubted it made things any easier for him as a kid in the system. They didn’t usually give you bonus points for things that made you stand out.

“Is that why you didn’t get adopted?” he asked quietly, then winced, wondering if this time he had stepped over a line. 

Janus glanced at him, not having to ask what Virgil was referring to. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” 

“I guess not.” Virgil hesitated, then scooted a fraction of an inch closer, angling himself toward Janus ever so slightly. Janus wordlessly lifted an arm, and Virgil scooted underneath it immediately, some of the turmoil in his chest calming down as the arm settled around his shoulders. “What happened? To your birth family?” 

“My parents died in an accident.”

“Oh.” 

“I didn’t have any extended family to speak of, other than a grandfather who lived in an assisted care facility and couldn’t take care of me. So into the system I went.” 

Virgil nibbled at the uninjured side of his lip, leaning his head against Janus’s shoulder lightly. “Were you scared?” 

“Sure. Scared, mad, sad, all of it.” 

“What happened after you turned eighteen?” 

Janus glanced down at him and smiled slightly. “I went to college,” he said. “And I started studying. A lot.” 

“Is that how come you wanted to be a child psychologist?” 

“Pretty much, yeah. I knew there were lots of kids like me who were scared. I figured I could help them figure out how to survive. Teach them how to fight.” 

Virgil tipped his head back and looked at him dubiously. “They let shrinks do that?”

“There are lots of different kinds of fights, Virgil,” Janus said. “Not all of them involve fists and feet.” 

“Huh.” Virgil frowned, leaning his head against Janus’s shoulder again. “They called you guys the f-word,” he said after a moment of silence. 

“Hmm?” 

“The kids at school.” Virgil scowled, then stopped when the expression pulled at his swollen lip. “That’s why I got into the fight. They called you guys the f-word.” 

“I see.” Janus sounded...Virgil wasn’t sure. Upset? Maybe...but mad? He didn’t think so. At least, not at Virgil. “You know what that says about them, don’t you?”

“That they’re fucking assholes?” Virgil spat, scowling again in spite of the stinging in his lip. This time, he found, the word ‘fucking’ didn’t taste so bitter. 

“No. Well, yes, quite possibly, but usually? It means they’re being raised by assholes. Lots of kids that age just parrot what they grew up hearing.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Virgil said, drawing back and glaring at him. “I had plenty of asshole foster parents and I don’t go around saying shit like that.”

“Well, that’s because you’re smarter than most kids your age. You had to be.” The smile on his face was proud, and Virgil flushed, squirming a little under the intensity of the expression. Patton looked at him like that a lot, but he never really felt like he’d earned it. Tonight, though...he kind of felt like maybe he did. He kind of felt like Janus didn’t give out smiles like that to just anyone, or for just anything. 

It felt good. 

He slumped back against him, too overwhelmed by that expression to keep looking at it, and Janus let his arm loop back over his shoulders easily. They lapsed into silence for a little while, listening to the clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Virgil could smell something good, something that smelled hearty and made his mouth water a little, and knew that soon, maybe in just a few minutes, Patton would holler up the stairs at them to come and get it. 

Soon. But they had a few seconds left, he was pretty sure, and so he said, “Janus?” 

“Yeah?” 

He hesitated, not exactly sure what he wanted to ask. Finally, he said, “Do you ever...worry? That it’ll...I dunno. That it’ll all go away again?” 

Janus didn’t have to ask him what he meant. “Sometimes.” 

“Really?” Virgil was surprised. He’d expected Janus to be reassuring--to lie, maybe, but to pretend like nothing ever got to him now. 

“Sure. That surprises you?” 

“I mean...yeah, kinda?” Virgil shrugged. “I guess I thought you’d tell me it gets better. That you stop being so scared all the time.” 

“It does,” Janus said. “Just because I still get scared sometimes doesn’t mean it’s not better than it used to be.” 

“Oh.” 

“You know what used to scare me the most?” Janus said after a second, and Virgil looked at him curiously. Janus smiled. “Patton.” 

“Patton scared you?” Virgil couldn’t even begin to believe it. “How the hell could Patton scare you?” 

“Patton himself didn’t,” Janus said. “But you know him. When I first met him, I thought, ‘here’s this amazing guy who’s had this perfect life, with this perfect family that loves him, he’s probably a total asshole or a complete rich snob.’ I kind of wanted to hate him, because he had everything I’d ever wanted, right? Like what did he do to deserve it?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Then I spent more than five minutes with him and realized no, he’s actually a total sweetheart, and he cares about everyone so much, and when we started dating I kept thinking, ‘how can someone this good see anything of value in someone like me?” 

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat, hearing his own deepest fears echoed in Janus’s voice.

“I just kept thinking, ‘eventually he’s going to realize how much better he could be doing. He’s gonna find someone who doesn’t have a temper, who doesn’t have rejection and abandonment issues, who’s as nice as he is and who isn’t this complete and total nobody.’“ 

“Exactly,” Virgil breathed, staring at Janus with wide eyes. 

“Of course,” Janus continued, “eventually I realized a few things.” 

“What things?” 

“Well, first of all, I realized that while Patton is an extremely kind and wonderful man, he’s not perfect, and it was actually really unfair of me to put him up on a pedestal like that. He makes mistakes, he has a temper too--you’ve seen him on game night when he’s losing at Monopoly” --here Virgil broke into soft giggles and nodded, “--and he worries. A lot. He also tends to give the people who hurt him more chances than they deserve.” 

Virgil’s smile faded. “But...what if I’m one of those people?” he whispered. “If I keep hurting him, or disappointing him...” 

“No, Virgil.” Janus’s voice was firm. “You could never disappoint him. He worries about you, but that’s just because that’s what he does. But he’s never going to be disappointed.” He paused, and glanced at Virgil sidelong. “However,” he said lightly, “he would probably tell you that you don’t need to go picking fights at school to defend our honor.” 

Virgil grimaced. “Yeah, I know,” he said. Then: “What would you tell me?” 

“I’d tell you that there are lots of reasons to fight in this world, and lots of things worth fighting for, but I never want to see you hurt over something as petty as someone calling your dad and me a stupid name.” 

Virgil sighed, and leaned against Janus’s shoulder again. “Yeah, I know,” he said again. “I just got so mad. Like who are these assholes to judge you guys? You’re...” he faltered, feeling a little choked and more than a little embarrassed, but forced himself to finish: “You’re both so amazing, and you gave me an actual real family, and...and who cares if you’re gay, why should that even matter? You’re...” 

“Hey.” Janus reached out and gently brushed the few tears that had escaped away from Virgil’s cheeks, being careful of his bruises. “Thank you, kiddo. I mean that. But you know what? Next time that happens, you ignore them, or defend yourself if they physically attack you first--I’ll help teach you how--and then you come home and you and me, we can talk it out. Vent, whatever. That way you can deal with it, but you don’t have to take a beating. Right?” 

Virgil sighed, and nodded again, finally letting go of the last of his worry and anger. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I guess so.” 

“Good. Now. Are you hungry? It smells like Patton’s just about done down there, and I want to get more ice on that eye of yours anyway.” 

“Yeah.” Virgil realized with some surprise that he was hungry--his stomach had untied itself from the knots it’d been in since he’d gotten home, and the scents wafting from the kitchen had only gotten better in the last few minutes. 

“Great. C’mon.” 

Janus rose from the bed and held out a hand; Virgil took it and let him help him to his feet. “Is it just your face?” Janus asked. “No other injuries anywhere else?” 

“No. I mean yeah, just my face.” Virgil shrugged sheepishly. “The guy just hit me once. The rest is from when he knocked me down.” 

“Gotcha. That’s good, then. Let’s go.” 

“Wait...Janus?” 

Janus paused in the doorway of Virgil’s room and glanced back at him. Virgil shifted nervously, then smiled a little hesitantly. “Thanks.” 

Janus’s face broke into the first broad grin of the evening. “What I’m here for, bud,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go eat.” 

Virgil nodded, following his...his father...out of the bedroom, and down the stairs to the kitchen. Patton looked up when they arrived, having just set a pan of what looked and smelled like lasagna--Virgil’s favorite--onto the table. 

“Perfect timing!” he said cheerfully, moving to kiss Janus hello, then looking over at Virgil. “Hope you’re hungry. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Virgil said, hugging himself, still feeling a little uncertain. That flash of something on Patton’s face in the car still had him worried, and in spite of Janus’s words, he found himself wondering if his dad was disappointed. 

Patton tilted his head, apparently hearing the uncertainty in Virgil’s voice. He moved forward and laid a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder, while Janus busied himself making a new ice pack. 

“Second chance,” he murmured. “You okay, kiddo?” 

Virgil looked up at Patton, studying his face, and in it, he saw lots of things--worry, concern, a little bit of anxiety, sure--but no anger. And beneath it all, so obvious it almost hurt to look at: a deep, abiding love. 

Virgil relaxed at last, and gave Patton a genuine smile. “Yeah,” he said again, stronger this time, and when Patton beamed and opened his arms, Virgil stepped into the embrace gladly. “Yeah, I’m okay, Dad.” 

“Good,” Patton whispered, and Virgil felt a kiss dropped into his hair before Patton drew away and said, “All right, let’s get to it, then. This lasagna isn’t going to eat itself!” 

Virgil settled at the table, watching as his dad and J--and his father--updated each other on their day, laughing and joking lightly with one another. He held the ice pack Janus had given him to his cheek with one hand, and with the other, ate the lasagna Patton had made for him. 

And even though it pulled slightly painfully at his split lip, he couldn’t help but grin. 

* 

Thanks for reading! 

A little background info (and to clarify something, just in case it wasn’t clear enough in the text): the “Second chance” bit is a rule they have in their household. Janus is a child psychologist, and he specializes in lying as a defense mechanism created by abuse victims to placate their abusers. He theorizes that your first response to any question that causes a heightened emotional response is usually a lie, because your instinct to protect yourself kicks in and forces you to say what you think the asker wants to hear. In their household, they have a policy that if someone thinks the answer they got might not have been truthful, you can say “second chance” and answer again, with no repercussions about having lied.

They use this to ask each other “are you sure,” as well as to admit to having lied themselves (So sometimes one of them will answer or say something, then say “second chance” and amend their own statement. Like “Hey Dad, do you want to play this video game with me?” “Sure kiddo! Well...second chance, how scary is it? I don’t want to have nightmares.” ). 

#moceit #paternal moxiety #paternal anxceit #random snippets fics

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Patton: the only problem I have with my son (Virgil) is that he's been smarter than me ever since he was 6

#source: josh wolf #sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #familial moxiety #paternal moxiety #sanders sides incorrect quotes #sanders sides uncorrect quotes #kid!virgil #kid virgil #dadton #dad!patton #dad patton

[demiidevil]

Will I ever draw non-catboy Virgil? Only time will tell.. I will not Anyways, Family Photo!!  @cupidz-core

#ts #sanders sides #Janus Sanders #Patton Sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #morality sanders #anxiety sanders #moceit #paternal moxiety #paternal anxeit #doodles #id

[sanderssidesgiftxchange]

happy new year @youronelesbianfriend !

summary: It's a single dad au where Patton adopted winged! Virgil, who later one met mer!Roman and they fell love and live happily ever after.

rating: G

notes: I tried to mix all your prompts, hope you will like it! <3

#sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #paternal moxiety #romantic prinxiety #sanderssantas19 #rated g #fanart

[youtuberswithalex]

Period

Summary: Swallowing his panic, he tried his hardest to take a deep breath. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped, hoping to scurry to his room and get rid of the evidence of any injury before anyone could find out, but it came back soaked in just as much deep, dark blood as before. Tears sprung to his eyes as he let his hyperventilating take over. 

“Daaaaaad!”

(Trans!Virgil; Adoption AU; Romantic Logicality, Paternal Moxiety, Brotherly Prinxiety, Creativitwins)

Warnings: Blood, periods, crying, explanation of the menstrual cycle, brief mention of sex, implied/referenced past child abuse, brief mention of past character death, Remus Antics (brief, non-graphic mention of a gory scene in an old movie)

Word Count: 2316

A/N: So, this has been a fic I’ve wanted to write for 12+ years, a fic that’s transpired fandom after fandom after fandom: an explanation of what a period is, to help others who won’t get/understand an explanation from other sources. I know this gets a little info-dump-y, but I tried to make it understandable. This fic is for you kids who are nervous about getting yours for the first time, like I was, and I hope seeing characters you love going through it, too, can help!

This is also the first fic I’m posting, I guess, of this Adoption AU I’ve had in my head for a while! I’ve got a couple other ideas in mind, including a part 2 to this focusing more on Roman and Virgil, sooo hit me up for some AU questions, if you have any!

-----

It was true that Virgil hadn’t really been feeling well in the past week.

He didn’t know what it was, but everything just felt… off. He didn’t want to socialize with anyone; being around people had been making a fire of rage burn in his chest, and the fact that he didn’t know why just made it ten times worse. He was exhausted to the point of nearly falling asleep in class, and would have slept through his alarms twice and been late if it hadn’t have been for Roman waking him up when he didn’t come for breakfast.

Speaking of, he hadn’t had much of an appetite, and he’d hardly been eating because of it. Even the idea of eating anything had made him feel a little gross. And his stomach had been cramping a lot.

Realistically, Virgil knew this was something he should tell Patton or Logan, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It didn’t matter how many times Roman reassured him that their dads wouldn’t be angry at him for getting sick; until he saw it for himself, he wasn’t going to be able to believe him. So what if Patton was a nurse? So what if Roman and Logan had butted heads dozens of times since Virgil had moved in, and it had never dissolved into a screaming match? That didn’t mean they wouldn’t turn on him, or that he was a good enough kid to avoid getting on their bad side!

Besides, he wasn’t throwing up or running a fever! He was just going to waste their time if he said anything. They had more important things to worry about than him. It’s not like he was dying or anything.

…Or, so he’d thought, until Thursday afternoon when he went to the bathroom and found his underwear covered in blood.

Virgil almost screamed at the sight. As soon as he recovered, he frantically searched his body for any sign of a scrape or scratch that could have left such a mess. There was nothing. Maybe… Maybe it had already healed?

Swallowing his panic, he tried his hardest to take a deep breath. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped, hoping to scurry to his room and get rid of the evidence of any injury before anyone could find out, but it came back soaked in just as much deep, dark blood as before. Tears sprung to his eyes as he let his hyperventilating take over.

“Daaaaaad!”

Footsteps came rushing to the door faster than he’d ever heard in this household. “Virgil, are you okay?”

He choked back a sob. “I-I’m bleeding…!”

“Okay, it’s going to be okay, kiddo,” Patton soothed. “Can I come in?”

Virgil looked at himself, still on the toilet, and set the wad of toilet paper on the tank. He scrambled to stand and pull his pants up before whimpering out an “Uh-huh”.

Patton calmly came in and shut the door behind him. “Alright, where are you bleeding?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“You don’t know?” he asked with a frown.

“I…” Virgil picked up the toilet paper and showed it to him, lowering his voice to a whisper despite no one else being in there with them. “It was all over my underwear,” he explained. “And when I wiped, I…”

He trailed off as Patton tilted his head to inspect the blood, and then understanding faded onto his face as he looked away in thought. While it was only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity; his stomach started to cramp again, and Virgil found himself trembling.

“I-I haven’t been feeling good this week,” he admitted. “My stomach’s been hurting, and—and all I want to do is sleep, and I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bother you guys, and I’m sorry, I should’ve said something, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to be sick, I don’t want to have to go to the hospital, please—!”

Patton shushed him and ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “Hey, hey, relax, it’s alright! You’re okay, Virgil. You’re not going to die, trust me. Especially not on my watch.”

He leaned over, put the toilet lid down, and gently pushed Virgil to sit on it before kneeling in front of him. He took a few seconds to chew on his lip in thought.

“Virgil,” he started, “At your old school, did your teachers ever take an afternoon to talk to you guys about puberty?”

Virgil shook his head.

Patton let out a breath and nodded. “I guess they probably think it’s a little too early to talk about it, huh?” he muttered. “Am I allowed to touch your stomach, honey?”

Virgil hesitated, but he nodded after a moment. Patton reached up and placed his hands on Virgil’s lower belly. When he flinched, he used his thumb to rub gentle circles into it.

“Okay, so, in your body, right down here, you have this thing called a uterus,” he softly explained. “When people are pregnant, that’s where the babies grow before—”

“Am I PREGNANT?!”

“No, no, no—!” Patton had to hold back a laugh, taking his hands away to cover his face for just a second before returning them to their original position. “You’re not pregnant, Virgil, don’t—don’t worry about that!”

Virgil snapped his mouth shut, lower lip still trembling. Patton offered him a reassuring smile as he continued.

“Your uterus has these two things connected to it called ovaries.” He used his two index fingers to draw out where they would be. “They hold a bunch of tiny little eggs inside of them that eventually would turn into people—but only under certain circumstances, at certain times, usually involving another person. If you were to get pregnant, you’d know, understand? It’s not going to happen randomly.”

Patton didn’t move on until Virgil nodded.

“Okay. Now, about once a month, one of these two little guys is going to let one of their eggs go,” he said, “and it sticks to the wall of your uterus. And your body goes…”

Patton threw his hands into the air and waved them around. “’Yay! We’re gonna have a baby!’” he cheered in a cartoony voice. Virgil let out a weak snicker. Patton counted it as a win.

“It starts to get ready for this potential baby by building up this lining around the walls, so that it’ll be extra protected from harm. And for a little while, if you… Ah…” Patton’s face turned red. “Do… certain things, with certain people, that egg might get fertilized, and that’s how pregnancy starts.”

“Like… kissing?”

Patton hummed. “No, you’d have to do a little more than that. More, uh… adult stuff.”

Virgil nodded, looking at the floor very seriously. “Taxes.”

It was a fight to keep his laugh in. “R-Right. Taxes.” He cleared his throat and continued. “Um, anyway, if that egg doesn’t get fertilized, your body says, ‘Oh, darn! Well, maybe next time!’, and it gets rid of the egg, and then it gets rid of that lining so it can make a fresh one for the next egg.” He pointed to the bloody toilet paper still gripped tightly in Virgil’s hands. “That’s what that blood is. It’s not a cut, and it’s certainly not an omen of death. It’s just a sign that you’re growing up.”

Virgil stared at the toilet paper for a long moment. “…Am I going to have to do this every month?”

“Well, not at first,” Patton replied, putting his hands on his knees. “This is a brand new feature in your body right now, so it’ll take a bit for it to fall into a real cycle. For a little bit, you might have a couple within a month, or you might not have it for another three after this. But, eventually, yeah, the body will balance itself out.”

“How long is that gonna take?”

“It depends on your body. If it takes a while, or it doesn’t seem like it’s going to balance at all, we can look into some options to help, like birth control or hormone therapy. Modern medicine is a great thing,” he said with a wink. “How about we save that conversation for a little later, though? See how this pans out for now?”

There was a beat, and then Virgil slowly nodded. He shifted and tipped his head away. “What do I do about my underwear?” he whispered.

Patton hummed and sat back, looking up at the ceiling. “Well… I’ll be honest, kiddo, I can talk your ear off about anatomy and the medical side of things, but I don’t have a clue about the products and stuff. How would you feel if I called Remus’s mom and asked her to come explain that stuff to us?”

Virgil wiped at his eyes. “Okay.”

Offering a gentle smile, Patton held his arms open; there was a moment of hesitation, and then Virgil leaned forward and wrapped his smaller arms around him. Patton held him tight and rubbed his back.

“Thank you,” he whimpered.

“Of course, sweetie. That’s what your Pop and I are here for,” he reassured. “And don’t you ever worry about bothering us if you’re not feeling well, okay? We care about you more than whatever silly things we might be working on. We want to take care of you, okay?”

Virgil shuddered in a manner that was suspiciously similar to that of a repressed sob; when he spoke next, his voice was tight and high-pitched. “Okay.”

They sat like this for a moment, with Patton holding his son close, rubbing a hand over his lower back, until he pressed a kiss into his hair and pulled back.

“Alright, Virge, I need to go call Mrs. Drake,” he said. “Is your stomach still hurting? Or anything else, for that matter? I can get you some medicine to help, if you want.”

Virgil nodded, scrubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Patton nodded and climbed to his feet. “Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can, promise.”

He stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and leaving Virgil alone with his thoughts again. He was still shaking, yes, but the terror of thinking he was going to die was settling into the more manageable fear of learning a new routine…

And maybe, a little, the risk of starting to put his trust into someone.

But maybe there wasn’t so much to fear in that one.

Virgil leaned forward and finally dropped the bloody toilet paper into the trash.

----------

The front door slammed open; Logan and Roman both nearly jumped out of their skin from where they sat at the dining room table.

“Virgil, we got your little butt-diapers!”

There was the sound of a light swat, and then the snatching of a plastic bag.

“Stahp, Remus, he’s already having a hard time with it!”

Snickering echoed through the entryway as the two climbed the half-flight of stairs leading to the main floor. As Remus made a beeline to tackle Roman out of his chair, Logan adjusted his posture to be more formal and nodded at Mrs. Drake.

“Good afternoon, Alya,” he called.

“Hi, boys,” she quickly responded. “Are they still in the bathroom?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Mrs. Drake nodded and hurried off just as Roman wrestled Remus off of him. He glanced at the hallway, and then between his twin and his father.

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“Your baby bro’s anus is bleeding for the first time!”

“No, Remus,” Logan scolded. He turned to Roman. “He’s experiencing his first menstrual period. Your father called Mrs. Drake to help teach him the technical aspects of how to best handle it.”

Roman blinked and sat up straight. “Oh! Is he going to be alright?”

“Yeah, Mom brought a bunch of stuff to help,” Remus replied, waving his hand as he plopped into the open seat next to Roman. “Pads, painkillers, heating rice bag sock things, the whole shebang. And a bunch of chocolate and candy and stuff!”

“Ah, good. I’ve seen studies that dark chocolate helps with cramps,” Logan stated.

Remus sighed. “A shame. I was hoping we’d get to see Virgie’s tiny baby rip out of his stomach. Like that scene in Aliens!”

Roman let out a whine and swatted him. “Dude, that’s my little brother!”

“Oh, come on! Your other dad’s a nurse! He could stitch him back up in no time!”

“That is not how nurses work!”

Logan hummed and adjusted his glasses, turning back to the papers he was grading. “Astounding. In less than two minutes, you’ve expressed your ignorance in both anatomy and the careers of the medical field. I suggest you brush up on them both if you truly wish to study in the field of dentistry.”

“Haa, brush up,” Roman laughed.

Logan shot him a glare over the rim of his glasses; Roman and Remus high-fived.

“Do your homework, Roman.”

Roman grinned and turned back to face his homework, but his mind instead floated back to Virgil’s condition. He bit down on his lip and shifted before looking up and tapping his pencil end against the table.

“Seriously… Virgil is going to be okay, right?” he asked.

Logan let out a soft breath. “Your brother is going to be just fine,” he gently reassured. “This is a natural thing for many people who possess uteri. He might be in pain for a little while, but ultimately, he will be alright.”

“My mom deals with it every month, and she’s not dead yet,” Remus pointed out. Then, with his grin fading a bit, he added, “Our mom probably had them, too. She must’ve, if she had us.”

Roman watched him for a long moment, and then he nodded, swallowing the lump that had snuck into his throat.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

---------

Second A/N:

Hey, folks-- So, as it turned out, I made a bit of a mistake in explaining this. So sorry about this! Thank you so much to @romanslunchbox​ for pointing this out and correcting me:

“ It isn’t a huge mistake. However, in your fic you stated that the egg gets stuck in the lining of the uterus. But that is only possible with a fertilized egg. An non-fertilized egg dies in the oviducts before it can even reach the uterus. After the egg dies certain hormones are released to start the menstruation about 2 weeks later (how that works is an entire shit show of hormones and stuff). It takes a while for these hormones to be released, so the uterus keeps producing more lining for the egg to get stuck in. When the uterus finally gets the signale that there is no pregnancy, that is when the menstruation starts. “

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #patton sanders #paternal moxiety #the ending's kinda weak but eh #i wrote this in one day #whaddya gonna do #roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders

[andromedaspace]

I'll be here

Words: 1.1k

Relationships: Analogical, with kid Patton

Summary: Patton gets sick. Luckily, his new family makes sure to take care of him.

Mostly paternal moxiety, with a little bit of Logan and the twins in the background.

This is an adoption au I'm working on, Patton is 16, the twins are 6, and they've been with Logan and Virgil for about a month when this fic takes place.

Warnings: Vomiting/being sick, anxiety, food/not eating, references to abuse, and brief but graphic implications of csa

Patton had always hated being sick. There was never a good time to be sick, he always had responsibilities and people who needed him.

Unfortunately, the stress of all that led him to be sick fairly often.

Patton woke up feeling distinctly uncomfortable, his stomach revolting the second he tried to sit up. Today was gonna suck.

He checked the clock, groaning when he realized it was already 7:30. He had to get up.

He forced himself to stand, stumbling to the bathroom and collapsing in front of the toilet and collapsing when the movement amplified his nausea. He knelt there for a minute, trying to keep his breathing steady and fight back the churning in his stomach.

He finally got himself to stand up again. He locked the door, he didn’t need his brothers seeing him like this, before standing in front of the sink, his hands pressed to the cool tile.

Naturally, this was when Remus tried to open the door.

“Just a minute,” Patton said shakily.

Remus whined. “Really gotta go potty…”

“Go downstairs, okay?”

Remus frowned a little, but agreed, running downstairs.

The momentary interruption however, distracted Patton from the tug in his gut, followed by a wave of nausea, and what was left of last night's dinner ending up in the sink. Patton took a shaky breath, rinsing out his mouth before doing his best to clean the sink.

He heard footsteps, before there was another knock on the bathroom door, Remus again. “Pattonnnnnnn! You gotta come get breakfast!”

“I’ll be down in a minute, you go ahead,” Patton said, wincing at how weak his own voice sounded.

Patton waited until he heard Remus walk away, before splashing cold water on his face and attempting to collect himself.

He walked down the stairs, hoping he could get away with skipping breakfast.

Virgil was putting the last few plates on the table. “Morning, Pat!” He looked Patton over, frowning slightly. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah!” Patton tried to force a smile, instead doubling over to try and keep himself from throwing up.

Virgil frowned, hurrying over. “Yeah, that’s not fine, what’s wrong?”

“...gonna be sick…” Patton murmured.

Virgil scrambled, grabbing the (thankfully empty) trash bin next to them, and holding it for Patton, wrapping his other arm around the boy’s shoulders. Virgil rubbed small circles into Patton’s back as he emptied his stomach into the bin.

“You’re okay, let it out.”

After a significant amount of retching, Patton straightened back up. “M sorry..”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, you can’t help being sick.” 

Virgil set down the bin, getting a glass of water and handing it to Patton. “Do you wanna go back to bed? Or you can stay down here, put on a show or just hang out with me.”

Patton hesitated. He should sleep more, it was the only productive thing he could do while this sick. But upstairs was so far, and he didn’t know if he would even be able to sleep, and mostly, he really, really didn’t wanna be alone.

“Is it...okay if I stay down here?”

“Of course, go sit down, I’ll bring you some food and medicine.”

Patton really didn’t think he could eat, but he didn’t bother bringing it up, instead going to sit on the couch.

Virgil put a fresh liner in the trash can, grabbing a can of ginger ale and a sleeve of crackers, bringing them over to Patton. “Here you go, kiddo. I’m gonna see if I can find some medicine for you, okay?”

Patton nodded, taking the tiniest sip of ginger ale.

Virgil smiled, running a gentle hand through Patton's hair, before going upstairs.

On the way, he bumped into Logan, who glanced down at him with concern. "Everything okay, love?"

"Patton's sick," Virgil said, finally letting his anxiety show.

"What are his symptoms?" 

Virgil took a little comfort in Logan's calm voice. "He threw up once,  I dunno how bad his fever is but he felt warm and what if-"

Logan leaned in to kiss Virgil's forehead. "I'm sure he'll be alright, love, these things happen," Logan led Virgil into the bathroom, getting some stuff out of the cabinet. "Here, check his temperature, as long as it's below 104 there's nothing to worry about, just give him some Tylenol, okay? I have to take the twins to school, but you can call me if there's any issues."

Virgil frowned. "I didn't even think about the twins, what if they get sick too? They're so small!"

"Virgil, love, they’ll be okay, I'll make sure they don't have any symptoms and get them out of the house."

"Okay…"

Logan handed Virgil the Tylenol and thermometer, kissing his forehead once more before they headed downstairs.

Virgil quickly went over to Patton, holding out the thermometer. "I gotta take your temperature, open up."

Patton flinched at the words, curling in on himself. It was so stupid, but something about that had sounded just like him, and no, no, no-

"Shit, sorry, I didn't even think about how that sounded, are you okay?"

Patton shook his head a little, quickly hunching over the trash bin and retching a little.

Virgil frowned, worried, sitting next to Patton but leaving some space. "It's okay, kiddo, you're safe."

Patton sat back up after a bit, wiping his mouth. "Sorry…"

"Hey, it's okay, I'm the one who messed up. Do you wanna do it yourself?" Virgil held out the thermometer. 

Patton nodded a little, taking it, and sticking it in his mouth. After a minute it beeped, and he handed it back to Virgil.

"101, that's not bad. Do you want medicine?"

Patton hesitated. "What is it?"

"Tylenol, it's in a sealed pack if that's what's making you anxious."

Patton nodded. "Okay, please?"

Virgil broke off two squares of the blister pack, handing them to Patton.

Patton took the medicine, swallowing it with some ginger ale.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Blankie?"

Virgil smiled softly. "Of course, hon," He pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch, draping it around him.

Patton smiled, leaning into the touch. "Thanks…"

"Do you wanna try and nap? Or you can pick something to watch."

Patton hummed softly. "Can you just put somethin' on for background noise?"

Virgil nodded, picking out a nature show. "I'm gonna try and get some work done, I'll stay in the dining room if you need anything."

Patton nodded, nuzzling in. "Thanks, dad."

Virgil smiled, trying his hardest not to freak out at Patton actually calling him dad. "Of course, kiddo."

#paternal moxiety #analogical #kid patton sanders #sanders sides #ts fic #logan writes

[anxiouslyfred]

I have no clue where this came from cause I threw the prompt I had for today out the window.

Logan planned a party for his Dad to celebrate the divorce to his mother being finalised eventually in favour of them staying with Patton. Virgil unfortunately is wishing his older brother had chosen something quieter to celebrate, but at least the orange juice is in fancy glasses. No matter how smart Logan is, a 15 year old isn’t going to be able to arrange alcoholic when planning a party.

#patton sanders #dad patton #child virgil #virgil sanders #teenage logan #logan sanders #paternal moxiety #paternal logicality #february doodles

[today-only-happens-once]

The paternal moxiety feels I would experience from a nobody else but you animatic from a goofy movie...

#paternal moxiety #sanders sides

[does-this-look-logicality-to-you]

logan: do I have permission to marry your dad?

virgil: what is this? the dark ages?

logan, persistent: do i have permission to be wed to your father?

virgil: beat me in a duel first.

#the dad is meant to be patton #sanders sides #incorrect quotes #sanders sides incorrect quotes #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil #logicality #implied logicality #implied romantic logicality #romantic logicality #familial moxiety #paternal moxiety #source: unknown

[another-sanders-sideblog]

patton: you okay?

virgil: [laying face down on the floor] i’m sad.

patton: damn, me too

patton: no, wait. hi sad, i’m dad.

patton: no, wait. what’s wrong?

#sanders sides #incorrect quotes #sanders sides incorrect quotes #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts patton #ts virgil #paternal moxiety #familial moxiety #source: unknown

[northlight14]

Anyone else have a ship that they’ll just think about for less than five minutes and then just want to start crying for literally no reason? Like, is it because they’re going through a rough patch? Or because you just love their relationship so much? Who knows?! Not you!

Cuz, like, that’s me with Moxiety and I don’t know if I should be concerned or....?

#moxiety #romantic moxiety #paternal moxiety #platonic moxiety #sanders sides

[rosesisupposes]

sweet tea in the summer

in what is definitely a shock to all, i really love folklore.

read on ao3

characters: Patton, Roman, Virgil, Brief Logan, Brief Remy

pairings: platonic to romantic royality; paternal prinxiety; paternal moxiety

word count: 3,980

tags: trans Patton, parental transphobia (including deadnaming, misgendering), parental homophobia, gender euphoria, childhood friends to lovers, heavily closeted trans boy, coming out, endless fluff

a/n:  inspired by both “seven” off folklore and "It's Nice To Have A Friend" from Lover

⁂

Part 1: seven

They grow up as neighbors, just a street away, enough that Ro passes Pat's house going to and from school, and they walk together sometimes.

Roman may not be the smartest, book-wise, but well. Some things he just gets. And it does not take much for him, even as a seven-year-old, to pick up on the way Pat tenses up going home, to connect that with the distant yelling he hears some nights.

He finds Pat one afternoon, hiding in a little group of trees. The pink frilly dress is a mess- and Pat's hair is dramatically shorter than it was yesterday.

Pat's also crying in a way that Roman can tell has been going on for a while.

"You're Pat, right?" Roman says, plopping down by the same tree.

Pat looks shocked and surprised but nods.

"I'm Roman! We should play!"

"You want to play with me?" Pat asks.

"Yeah! You seem fun! C'mon, we can go over my house, Papa won't mind!"

Pat flinches. "Are you sure?"

"Yup! Let's go!"

And Pat would question it more but Roman is ebullient and it seems easier to just go along with it. It can't be worse than crying alone.

Roman's Papa is not surprised that Roman's acquired a friend somewhat by force. Virgil just smiles wearily and asks if Pat would like some crackers with banana and cinnamon, too?

Pat nods, and Roman's delighted, already talking a mile a minute about ideas he had for playing pretend!

Virgil eventually cuts into the flow and reminds Roman that he hasn't actually introduced his friend yet.

"Oh! Sorry! Papa, this is Pat!"

"What's Pat short for?" Virgil asks, smile gently at the wary look on Pat's face. "Is it cause he's only got little legs?"

Pat's face splits into an enormous grin at the pun. "It's short for- um. Actually, I don't think I like it very much?  It feels icky. I like the Pat part though."

"Can I give you a nickname?!" Roman asks, starry-eyed. "I think, um. Pat pat. Pipat. Patton!"

"Patton?" Pat tries out. "I like that. Patton. Hi, I'm Patton!"

Virgil smiles. "Nice to meet you, Patton. Now, that dress looks very messy, and not easy to play in, would you like to borrow some shorts?"

Patton smiles, eyes tearing up just a bit. "I would love that, are you sure it's okay?"

"Yes! Yes it is!" Roman interjects. "Here, you can come pick out something of mine! They'll probably fit!!"

"Slow down, my dashing little princey," Virgil says, grabbing the back of Roman's tee with the ease of long practice. "You need to finish eating your snack. Patton can come with me and we'll pick something while you finish. Okay?"

"Yes, Papa," Roman says, pouting. He sighs dramatically as he eats his crackers with exaggerated effort.

Patton walks behind Virgil down a hallway covered in dozens of drawings. Many are half-finished, but all clearly show enthusiasm and more than a little glitter.

Virgil grabs a couple of options, taking some of the clothes Roman's just starting to grow out of. Patton is just a bit on the smaller side still. He gives the boy a stack of clothes and shows him the bathroom, where he can change in private.

But, some sixth sense of Dad Instincts tells him he should wait in the hall right by the bathroom door. Just in case. (In case of what, he's not quite sure yet, but-)

Fuck, yup, that is definitely the sound of a little boy trying to cry as quietly as possible.

"Patton? Kiddo, you okay in there?"

Patton sniffles and replies, "I'm fine!"

Virgil frowns. "Can I come in, buddy?"

A pause.

"Oh-okay."

Patton has put on khaki shorts and a blue polo, but his hands are shaking as he looks at his discarded dress.

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?" Virgil asks in his softest Papa Voice.

"I'm being bad," Patton whispers. "I ruined my dress and I'm not wearing it and I cut my hair myself and I wasn't s'posed to and-"

Virgil hesitates, then sits on the tiled floor, pulling the sniffling boy into his lap.

"Hey, Pat, it's okay. It's just clothes and hair, okay, kiddo? Do you like how it looks?"

"Yes, but-"

"That's all that matters, buddy. And if you don't like it, hair grows back, clothes can get cleaned. I can clean your dress while you play, so you don't have to bring it home dirty, if you want?"

"I don't want him to be angry," Patton says in a tiny voice. "He scares me when he's angry."

Virgil tries very hard to be level-headed for his son, who really needs a solid presence. Which means he's had seven years of practice to be able to not swear loudly at the fear in Patton's voice, to not go off on a rampage to the Corwan house and give Mr. Corwan a piece of his mind. Instead, he hugs Patton into his chest, shushing quietly, rubbing the little boy's back as he sniffles into Virgil's hoodie.

"You know what we're gonna do, Pat? I'm gonna make sure your dress is all cleaned up, and when we're all done playing, we'll walk you home, okay?" He suppresses the fury from his voice as he adds, "And I'll tell your dad that it was all your idea to make sure you got cleaned up, and that it wasn't your fault it got dirty. How's that sound, kiddo?"

Patton nods, face still buried in the soft material of the black hoodie.

"Let's go, okay? Roman should be done with his snack by now."

Patton holds Virgil's hand on the walk back to the kitchen. Virgil has already half-committed to adopting this boy into their household if Mr. Corwan makes him cry again.

Roman is still in his seat, but barely. One of the crackers is just a pile of crumbs, and there's banana smooshed on his cheek. The minute he sees Patton, he's leaping out of his seat.

"Let's go play! I think we should be pirates! Or knights! Or-"

"Hey, what do we say about playing with guests?"

Roman catches himself. "I should let him have ideas too?"

"That's right, princey. C'mere."

Virgil has to let go of Patton's hand to wipe up Roman's face, because getting him to stand still is a two hand job.

He stands them shoulder-to-shoulder. "Okay, boys, you have a quest today!"

Roman's eyes are shining with excitement already.

Patton looks more concerned. "A quest?"

"Yes," Virgil says solemnly. "Your quest is to make sure your friend is having fun the whole time, and to listen to each other. Okay?"

Roman bounces in place. "Yes! I'm gonna be the best quester ever! Promise, Pat, you're gonna have so much fun!"

Roman grabs Pat's hand and they run out together to the back yard. Virgil sets himself up to clean the dress right by the big window to keep an eye on them, one ear always open for the cries of skinned knees or a-little-too-roughhousing

Patton smiles, face glowing as he listens to Roman's idea of how they can be pirate-witch-knight-ninjas.

It's nice to have a friend.

⁂

Part 2: thirteen

"Psstt!!! Patty!"

Patton turns to see Roman grinning hugely from his locker across the hallway. He waves frantically to get him to come over.

"What's up, buttercup?"

"It's here! Papa texted me, it just arrived!"

Patton freezes, eyes wide. "Already? Really? You mean it?!"

Roman nods, grinning hugely. "So you're coming over today. We'll say it's for that bio project if we have to, kay?"

Patton brushes at his eyes, making sure he's not tearing up visibly. He surprises Roman with a fierce hug. "Thank you, Roro."

Roman hugs back just as tightly, but he responds in a whisper so quiet that only his friend can hear. "You deserve it, Patton."

Patton can't stop smiling, even as his eyes feel like they're getting misty. "Oh gosh, how am I supposed to focus on algebra now? Can we just skip the last two periods?"

"Pat Corwan, 8th Grade Class President, wants to skip classes?" Roman replies with a mock gasp. "I'm shocked and appalled. And no, I have long-block scene study, there's no way I'm skipping."

"I know, I know. I'll see you soon!" Grinning, Patton walks away to his class, practically floating.

His desk-mate takes one look as he sits down and arches a brow. "So, Corwan, did he finally ask you out or what?"

"What?" Patton asks, barely aware he'd spoken.

Logan Williams sighs. "Sanders. Did he ask you out? You're smiling even more than normal. If I sunburned easy, I'd be concerned right now."

"Um, no? Ro and I are just best friends," Patton replies.

Logan rolls his eyes. "Best friends? You go to his house half the time after school, everyone's been waiting for you two to officially start dating."

"I-"

"Actually, if you were waiting for an excuse, you should run for Homecoming King & Queen together, I have a bet on that being the timing."

Patton frowns. "I have no plans to run for homecoming anything. I'm on the selection committee, that would be favoritism."

Logan shrugs. "Suit yourself. My only interest is in getting to finally hear a different topic of speculation during the lunchtime gossip mill. But you should probably know-"

Patton looks apprehensive. "Know what?"

Logan adjusts his glasses. "Half the grade already calls you The Future Mrs. Sanders."

Patton swallows a lump in his throat, fingers fidgeting with the material of his skirt. "I don't care what they all call me. He's my friend."

Patton turns his focus back to the lesson, but he keeps spacing out and missing parts, thinking about Logan's comments. But soon enough he's through algebra, and history passes without incident, and he's on his way to the Sanders house on Roman's bus.

As they walk through the door, Roman trills loudly, "Paaapaaaa!!!!!!! We're hoooOOOmmmeee!"

"I think I missed the part where I raised a rooster instead of a Roman," Virgil grumbles, emerging from his home office. "Heya, Patton!"

"Hi, Virgil," Patton says, grinning happily as Virgil immediately opens his arms for a hug. It's been years since he's even tried to call Roman's dad 'Mr. Sanders', because Virgil objects that it makes him sound like some corporate square.

"You wanna see it now or do you need to decompress first?" Virgil asks.

"Now please!" Patton says, and Roman claps and runs to the entrance hall to find the package waiting there.

Practically bouncing, Roman hands the package to Patton as he goes into the spare bedroom that's practically become his. His hands shake a little as he tears open the packaging.

"Patton? Kiddo, you okay in there?" Virgil asks through the door.

Patton emerges, tears leaking down his cheeks. He's changed into some of the clothes he keeps here, plus his new addition - pants, a polo, and his brand-new binder.

Roman bursts into applause, wolf-whistling and cheering. Virgil just smiles. "How's it feel, kiddo?"

Patton smiles at them, eyes damp. "It feels perfect. Thank you so much for letting me get it sent here."

"Anytime you need, Patton," Virgil says. "You know you're an honorary Sanders. Now, do you remember the safety tips we talked about?"

"No sleeping in it, or wearing for too many hours at a time, and try not to exercise in it?"

"That's right, kiddo. And you can keep it here until you feel comfortable wearing it out and about."

Roman hugs Patton carefully, not squeezing as tight as he normally does. "You look very handsome, Pat."

Patton just blushes and hugs back, amazed by the new feeling of the less-squish-in-the-front of the hug.

"Also I know it's our excuse but can you actually help with me bio, I can't get the hang of the cycles."

"Anytime, Roro."

Much later that evening, after a spaghetti dinner and several hours of 'homework' that actually accomplished one half hour's worth, Patton leans back against the bedspread with a happy sigh.

Roman looks up, eyes glowing in contentment. "Hey, you. You good?"

Patton looks down at his flatter chest and smiles. "Yeah, it's- I'm so happy, Ro. Thank you again."

"It's what you deserve, Pat," Roman says earnestly. "You deserve to have your family fully embrace and accept you, too, but until then you've got us."

Patton makes grabby hands, and Roman scoots over to hug him tightly. They don't always need words.

"Ro-" Pat says quietly, a thought suddenly popping into his head and out his mouth. "Did you know that half the grade calls me The Future Mrs. Sanders?"

Roman stiffens, not making eye contact. "I've, uh. Heard that once or twice, yeah. I know it sucks, Pat, but I don't know how to discourage it without outing you."

Patton takes a breath. "That part- I mean, I'm used to it. But-"

Roman sits back, looking concerned. "You know you deserve to have people use your pronouns and honorifics, right? It's not too much to ask. It won't be an imposition, I promise, it's just courtesy-"

"I know, Roro, thank you. No, I um. Yeah, that Mrs. part is still an unyeah, but-"

Roman waits, a little confused.

Patton closes his eyes. "Does the other part bother you? The part where they're implying that we- that we'd get, you know."

"Married?" Roman squeaks out.

"Yeah, that."

"I- I mean, you'll be my best friend no matter what but um, maybe, occasionally, Ithinkaboutthattooyeah?" Roman says all in a rush, blushing furiously.

Patton opens his eyes to see Roman's red face, then reaches out and takes Roman's hand. "Oh thank goodness."

Roman stares at their interlocked hands for a long moment, face growing steadily redder. "Really?" he manages to squawk out. "You- you really- me?"

"Who could I possibly like more than you, Roro?" Patton replies, and he's blushing too, now. "I- I love you, Roman. As much as I know how."

Roman makes a strangled sound of delight, only able to smile and nod. He swallows, trying to compose himself, and whispers, "Patton - will you be my boyfriend?"

Patton is fairly sure he could never contain more warm fuzzies than he does right now, hearing "boyfriend" applied to himself, from this wonderful, wonderful boy that has been his best friend for 6 years.

"Only if you're be mine too, buttercup," he whispers, happy tears sparkling in his eyes for the second time today.

⁂

Part 3: twenty-one

Roman watches Patton moving around their dorm room as he paces.  In his head Roman counts how many minutes have elapsed and decides it’s time to interfere.

“Honeycake, you can always decide not to, you know that, right?”

Patton flashes him a distracted smile. “I know, sweetheart, but that’s the problem. I want to, I’m just-“ He twists his hands nervously. “I’m nervous, Ro.”

“Would it help to talk over why you’re nervous, or do you want to not think about it?”

Patton paces again, back and forth, then sighs. “I’m going to do this eventually, so I might as well do it now. I want to remember tomorrow without regret.”

Roman stands and grabs Patton’s fidgeting hands, holding them in his and looking directly into Patton’s eyes. “Let’s do this, Pat. I’m here for you, always.”

Patton smiles weakly. “Can you dial, I’m going to chicken out.”

Roman nods, and unlocks Patton’s phone. In just a couple buttons, it’s ringing on speaker.

“You’ve reached the Corwan residence.”

Patton takes a breath, and says, “Hi, Dad.”

“Ah, good, we were beginning to worry we’d miss the ceremony tomorrow!”

“Yeah,” Patton says, a little shaky. “Well, I’ve asked, and there will be tickets for you and Mom at the box office.”

“Thank you. You know how excited we are to watch you graduate! We are so proud of you, Patricia.”

Patton flinches, and Roman immediately grabs his hand and squeezes.

“Um, yeah. I- I don’t know if we’ll have time to go out after, there’s a lot of stuff for the program and student leadership-“

”If you think we’re not going to take our daughter out to dinner on her big day, you’ve got another thing coming!” he replies in a jovial tone. Patton flinches again.

“Oh- okay then, Dad. I’ll see if there’s time. Um. See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait!”

Patton hangs up, head bowed. Roman immediately starts to peppering his face in kisses.

“My sweet, dear man, you are so brave and wonderful and also I will absolutely make those tickets disappear if you’d like them not to come after all.”

Patton leans into Roman’s chest with a shaky chuckle. “No, I think it’s time, love. I don’t want to keep hiding.”

The next day, the campus is a zoo, filled with families and balloons and people trying to find an open spot for photoshoots in their caps and gowns.

Roman and Virgil have teamed up to convince Patton to be subjected to full model treatment, Roman earnestly whispering “Make it fashion!” from behind Virgil’s clicking camera. Patton’s laughing as he tries to balance on the hippo statue that is their school’s mascot.

Then, though, it’s time, and Roman and Patton wave to Virgil as they file into the huge staging area with their classmates. They’re a sea of maroon robes, brightened by cords and stoles in various colors for all the school’s affinity groups and activities. Patton’s got so many, he looks like he’s wearing a rainbow. He fidgets with his colored stole. “Ro-“ he says, grabbing for his boyfriend’s hand.

“Patton, my light, you look amazing,” Roman says, leaning in close so only Patton can hear his murmur. “You are so, so strong, and so brave, and I love you to the moon and to Saturn.”

Patton smiles into Roman's shoulder, and manages to relax. They share a quick, chaste kiss, then separate to their halves of the alphabet.

Luckily, as they file in, their seats end up just across the aisle from each other, and Roman keeps turning to blow kisses.

The good thing about being in the Cs is that Patton doesn’t have too long to sit and let his nervousness fester. He walks up to the stage in procession, seeing Roman mouth “You’ve got this!” from the crowd of graduates.

“Cosgrave, Alicia” walks across the stage to the cheers of her family and accepts her diploma. Patton takes a deep breath.

“Corwan, Patton!”

He pushes his various cords out of the way to reveal his stole’s colors: stripes of light blue, pink, and white. He squares his shoulders, and walks across the stage. He’s not looking at the crowd, but he recognizes Virgil’s whooping.

He accepts his diploma, shakes the university president’s hand, and poses for the staged picture all before allowing himself to look up into the bleachers.

He can immediately see the Corwans. They don’t look mad, just- confused. His dad seems to be studying the program intently. He turns back to his seat, to see Roman’s smile glowing from across the aisle.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mouths, eyes shining, and Patton lets out a relieved sigh. He did it. And Roman’s here. It will be okay, no matter what happens next.

The rest of the ceremony melts away, and all Patton really remembers is Roman pulling faces at him as the speakers drag on, and him having to muffle his giggles.

The minute they’re standing to proceed out, Roman leaves his place in line to sneak over and slip his hand into Patton‘s. He sticks by his side until they’re out in the meeting area.  Patton has a deathgrip on Roman’s hand with nervousness as he looks around the crowd.

Virgil finds them first, and Roman’s very flamboyant uncle Remy is there, too, stealing Roman’s mortarboard to pose dramatically.

Then Patton hears the polite cough behind him that he knows is his mom. He turns, Roman’s hand in his still, with the Sanders brothers at his back.

“Why did they say your name like that?” his dad asks bluntly.

Patton straightens. “Because that’s the name on my diploma.”

“Patricia, what’s the meaning of this-“

“It’s Patton, dad. I changed it legally.”

“Patty, what are you saying?” his mom asks, frowning.

Patton plucks at his stole. “I’m trans, mum. I’m a boy. And I was always meant to be one, no matter how many dresses I wore.”

His heart is in his throat, beating like mad, but Roman’s squeezing his hand in pride and Virgil and Remy are behind him. He can practically hear Remy sliding his glasses down his nose to glare at the Corwans.

”And you’re okay with this- this delusion?!” Mr. Corwan demands, turning to glare at Roman.

“Absolutely,” Roman replies immediately. “He’s been my boyfriend for 7 years, and I love him as he is and exactly as he is.”

”This- no, that’s ridiculous, Patricia,” his dad spits out. “No daughter of mine is going to be part of this trender nonsense. I thought that was clear.”

“You made your position clear he was seven and scared to go home,” Virgil cuts in acidly. His hand is warm and comforting on Patton’s shoulder. “You made it clear that he’d have to hide himself from his own parents because they couldn’t find a way to love their child as a son.”

Mr. Corwan sputters, turning purple, as Mrs. Corwan turns white.

“Well- you can say goodbye to any help from us-"

“What help?” Remy drawls. “Ya boy’s graduated, been hired, and signed a lease without you. He doesn’t need your assistance even if you wanted to give it.”

Mrs. Corwan purses her lips. “Well, I hope that he,” she says tightly, exaggerating the pronoun in what is clearly intended as mockery, “is prepared to go through life without a family.”

Roman takes a step in front of Patton at that. “You’re not ashamed to say that to your only kid? Really? I’ve got news for you, ma’am. He’ll always have a family.”

“What, you mean that?” she asks with a derisive sniff at Virgil and Remy still holding Patton’s shoulders.

“No,” Roman says, suddenly calm. “I mean this."

He turns, smoothly sinking to one knee as he smiles up into Patton’s shocked-into-smiling face.

“Patton Corwan, my gorgeous man, love of my life, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

All the heaviness in his chest melts away and the knots in his stomach dissolve as Patton smiles down into Roman’s adoring gaze. “Oh Roman,” Patton says. “I would love nothing more.”

“I will not stand for-“ Mr. Corwan gets out, but Patton’s gaze locks onto his.

“Congrats. You don’t need to. You already said no daughter of yours will be like me, and you were right. You’ve made it clear I’m not your family. And as long as that’s how you feel, I don’t want to be.” Before he can sputter out an answer, Patton adds, “Plus, it’s way too late to object. Should’ve been there over Christmas if you wanted to, now you’re gonna have to forever hold your peace.”

“I’m- what?”

“Can I tell them?” Roman says, standing with a huge grin. Patton nods, starting to laugh.

“Patton asked me to marry him way back in December, the minute he got his early job offer. It was a beautiful ceremony. It even had the kind of dress I’m sure you were picturing, and I wore it particularly well, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, rough luck babes, looks like your invites got lost,” Remy drawls. “Well, maybe you’ll get to get to your other kid’s wedding. Oh wait.”

Virgil grins. “You two spouses want to go get graduation lunch now? My treat. I think they’re gonna need a minute.”

“Or a couple thousand,” Remy mutters.

Patton turns away from his parents, beaming at his family. “That would be wonderful, Papa.”

⁂

#royality #trans patton #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #paternal prinxiety #paternal moxiety #transphobia #gender euphoria #Papa Virgil #found family #roses writes fanfic #do it for dani

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Give me all your platonic/parental moxiety Headcanons please I'm starved

Sure haha

- every Friday Patton and Virgil have a cartoon night where they eat candy and cuddle

- whenever one of them gets sick the other insists to take care of them and they inevitably end up catching the illness too

- Virgil is doing a great job at helping Patton overcome his arachnophobia

- Patton is absolutely enamoured with Virgil’s heterochromia and every time Virge says he hates his eyes he passionately  explains how amazing they are and gives him hugs

- Virge grew his hair out because why not and Patton absolutely loves to style his lovely purple locks in loads of different ways. Virgil doesn’t mind at all

- When they’re both sad they go down to the kitchen and bake cakes

- I’ll add more!

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #platonic moxiety #familial moxiety #parental moxiety #tw food #tw arachnophobia #paternal moxiety