#yes nail art for Patton | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ccss10987 · 1 year

Text

Heist Gone Wrong

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43881277

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

Words: 3,060

TW: I think it's all good. Let me know if I'm wrong

Notes: This is written for @lostinmyfictionaluniverses as part of the @sanderssidesgiftxchange I hope you have a fun holiday season and you get yourself a little treat. I would like to thank the mods for putting this all together. I had such a fun time writing this. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys this funny little art heist sanders sides one-shot.

"Does everyone understand the plan?" Logan asked, setting down his wooden pointer.

The group in front of him nods.

"Remus and Patton, do either of you remember what step 4 is?" Logan asked the two with a smug look on his face

"OOH!" Remus raises his hand quickly, jumping up and down in his seat.

"Yes, Remus?" Logan sighed.

"Kill everyone in the room and use the blood to cover where the painting was!"

"Maybe… go through the plan one more time, Logan." Patton said gently.

"That's what I thought. Step 1, Roman will create a forgery of the painting. Step 2, Janus will sneak into the museum accompanied by Patton. Step 3, I will hack into the security system and put all the cameras in a loop to make sure no one sees anything. Step 4, Remus will cause a distraction while Roman sneaks the forgery inside. Step 5, Janus finds the painting while Patton keeps all the other guards from finding Janus stealing the painting. Step 7, we replace the painting with the fake one Roman created. Step 8, we get out of the museum, and Virgil will drive us away. Step 9, we return the stolen art to the original artist. Are we all clear now?"

Once again, everyone nods.

"What's the worse thing that can happen?" Janus asked with a smirk on their face.

"You said that on purpose. I have a list I can read out for you, if you want." Virgil said, glaring at them.

"Okay, okay. Let's not fight. This is going to go perfectly." Patton told Virgil while standing in between the two.

"You can't say that either!" Virgil yelled, pulling at his hair.

"I'm sorry. Knock on wood." Patton said quickly while knocking on their wooden coffee table.

"So how is the replica coming along, Roman?" Logan asked, trying to change the subject.

"It's nearly there. It just needs something." Roman told him.

"Blood! Mucus! Slime! Some other questionable substance?" Remus suggested.

Roman scrunched up his face. "Ew. You're not helping."

"I will take a look at it and help you figure it out." Logan told him. Logan and Roman left the room.

"I started working on my costume months ago and am now done." Janus said, looking at their manicured nails. "In other completely unrelated news. Patton, you have a spare security uniform, right?"

"Yeah, you can have my spare. I'll go get it." Patton told him.

"I don't need it, of course. I simply want to compare the two."

The two left, leaving Remus and Virgil alone.

"I can't imagine this going well. I'm not even sure why I decided to do this in the first place. I'm gonna cause a police chase. We're all going to go to jail and I'm going to fuck something up-"

"Nah don't worry about that. If anyone is going to fuck something up. It's gonna be me, emo, but it'll be on purpose."

"Please don't."

Remus chucked and crept out of the room. "What a prick…" Virgil mumbled under his breath.

"I am not quite sure what you think is missing. It looks fine-" Logan said, staring at the false art.

"I don't want it to look fine. It needs to be an exact replica!" Roman was pacing around his studio, mumbling about all the details he put into the painting, trying to figure out what the art was missing.

"Roman, it does not need to be perfect. It just needs to look enough like the painting so we have the time to get away before we are caught. We have recovered works of art before without anyone knowing it was gone, and I have no doubt in my mind that we can do it again." Logan told him.

"Well what if it's not good enough!? What if my forgery gets recognized too quickly? We won't be far enough away from the museum when the police start chasing us. Maybe we won't even get that far. The security guards-"

Logan cut him off once more. "If everyone follows my plan, we won't need to worry about the security guards at all. Patton and Janus will have them distracted, most likely with awful dad jokes."

Logan didn't want Roman to know that he was also worried about the heist. It was his plan, after all. If something went wrong, it was his fault. He didn't plan for it and couldn't deduce a solution. Logan could not let Roman know this because he needed all the answers. Having Roman worry more wasn't going to help in the long run.

"Well you know what's best. After all, you're the smart one." Roman stated.

"Obviously. I am going to retire to my room now. Please try and get some rest, Roman."

"Will do, Specs."

In Patton's room with Janus, Patton was hunched over in his closet, pulling things out and throwing them on the floor.

"Are you sure you have this?" Janus asked.

"Well I might have given it to a coworker of mine…" Patton trailed off.

Janus pinched the bridge of their nose. "I can make do. This might surprise you, but I don't have a disguise ready.

Patton laughed nervously, still rummaging through his closet. "Oh really? I had no idea." he said as playfully as he could.

"Why did you give away the uniform anyway?' Janus asked.

"Well he spilled some soda on himself and I always keep my spare in my bag in case someone needs it. I told him that he could borrow the shirt. He was so nice and even said he would wash it before he gave it back to me."

Janus just nodded. Patton stood up and stretched his back out. Janus sighed, hearing the crackling of Patton's back. "Take this advice from someone who has chronic pain, you need to stretch more often."

"Yeah I know. I keep saying I will, but I never do. Just like me saying I should clean my room more often, especially the closet." Patton told Janus. He said this as he shoved the pile of clothes back into his closet.

"I should get started on that uniform so I can finish it before Logan stars nagging me."

"Good luck!" Patton called out while Janus left the room. He sighed, looking at the pile of clothes in the closet before closing the door. It was too much work to do to clean that up now. It didn't seem like a problem before.

Everyone had trouble sleeping that night. They were all worried about something not going according to plan, except Remus. He was just too excited to sleep.

It was the morning of the heist. Everyone was tired. Patton was still the first one up to start making breakfast for everyone. Logan was the next one down. Patton put on a smile for him. "Did you sleep well, Logan?" he asked.

"To tell you the truth, I could have slept better."

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that, bud."

Janus came down just as Patton finished breakfast, followed by the twins, who all looked sluggish. Virgil was the last person to come downstairs, looking just as tired as everyone else, but that was a common occurrence.

"Based on everyone's faces, I deduce I am not the only one who did not get a good quality sleep last night."

Everyone mumbled in agreement, even Patton, trying his best to hide his drowsiness.

"No matter. I want everyone to try and sleep today. We will continue as planned. The more rested we are, the more successful this mission will be."

Everyone nodded and promised they would get some sleep before the heist. They had done this several times before, so why were they all so nervous?

Janus, Logan, and Patton were the only three who had tried to sleep before the heist. All three were unsuccessful.

Patton and Janus left a few hours before the rest of them to secure Janus' cover as a security guard at the museum. Patton had been working there for a while now. That's how they found out about the stolen art in the first place.

At the front doors of the museum, Janus took a deep breath. "My name is Dee Jordan. I am 31 years old."

"Why three years younger than you are?"

"Shush. I'm babysitting my nephew Declan, and I need the extra cash, hence the night shift job." Janus finished their mumbling, and they took another deep breath. "Alright, I'm in character. Let's do this." they said with a fake voice.

"Wow. That is amazing!" Patton exclaimed. He unlocked the door using his ID, and they entered the building.

Patton led Janus into the security room, where one of his coworkers was, waiting for his shift to start.

"Hey, Patty! I bought some donuts before I came here, do you want one?" Patton's coworker, Carl, asked.

"Thank you, Carl." Patton said before taking a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles. "This is our new coworker-"

"Dee Jordan. It's nice to meet you. I won't have this job for long. It's just supposed to be an easy payment." Janus lied.

"Well, it's pretty dull. There's like nothing to do, and the alarms are always faulty." said Carl. "Do you and Patton know each other?"

"Yes." "No." Patton and Janus said in sync, respectively. Patton was not okay with lying to his coworkers. He had known them for so long.

"What do you mean?" Carl asked.

"What he means is we met here before, but we don't actually know each other." Janus said before Patton could speak.

"We should get started with patroling the museum." said Patton quickly.

"Alright. I'll see you later, buddy." Carl said to Patton."

The two started walking away from the security room. Janus turned to Patton and told him, "Next time that someone asks us a question, please leave the talking to me. I know you don't like lying."

"But, keeping information from people is still a lie." Patton huffed.

"It's not a lie if they don't have the right to know." Janus fired back. Janus sent Logan a quick text to let Logan know they had gotten inside with no trouble.

In the van a few streets away, Logan started to tap into the museum security cameras.

"Has anything gone wrong yet?" Virgil asked.

"For the hundredth time, no." Roman told him, inspecting his painting.

"Not yet anyway." Remus said.

"Would you three please be quiet. I need my full concentration. As long as everything goes according to my plan, we will be able to get away with this." Logan snapped at them.

Everyone was quiet after that, even Remus. The only sounds in the van were Logan's fingers tapping on the keyboard and Virgil's leg bouncing.

After a few moments, Logan got into the security cameras and put all of them on a 5-second loop. He was certain no one was on the looped footage and sent Janus a text saying step 3 was complete.

"Hey Patton, friend, buddy, pal, a synonym for a friend." Janus started.

"What is it? Did something go wrong?" Patton asked, worry in his voice.

"No, but do you remember what step 3 was?"

"Oh." Patton sighed in relief. "It was the distraction. I'm at least 87% sure."

Janus laughed. "That's a specific number. Too specific to be wrong. I'll meet Roman at the meeting point."

Janus got to the meeting point, a fire escape near the gallery the stolen art was in. Remus said the distraction was loud enough to drown out the noise of the alarm, so they opened the door. The fire alarm blasted, and Janus covered their ears. Roman wasn't at the door. They peeked their head outside and looked around. Roman wasn't in sight.

"What happened over here?" someone from behind Janus asked. This wasn't supposed to happen. Everyone was supposed to be wherever Remus caused the distraction. Something went wrong.

Janus turned around. "I heard the alarm go off, so I ran toward the noise.

"Ah, you must be new. This door is always a bit fussy. It scared me on my first night shift too. I swear the slightest gust of wind can cause it to go off. I'm Maddison, by the way." she said.

"I'm Dee." Janus told her. The two shook hands and jumped when they heard a loud boom and several crashes.

"I've never heard that one before. Let's go check it out." Maddison said. She grabbed Janus by the wrist and started running towards the sound. They found a giant hole in the wall. Everyone came to check it out, including Patton, who saw Janus at the scene and became very nervous. They weren't supposed to be here. Something went wrong.

"I cannot believe someone blew up a wall. Who would go through the trouble of doing this?" Maddison mumbled to herself.

"I didn't see anything on the cameras. I should have though, right?" Carl asked himself.

"I didn't see anything either." Patton said. It felt wrong to keep information from his two closest coworkers, but he knew he had to. He couldn't believe Remus would do something this extreme. Well, yes, he would. This came as a surprise to no one.

"What do we do now?" Janus asked, dumbfounded.

"We shouldn't call the police. They only make matters worse." Carl said. He gave Maddison a slight nod, who nodded back at him. Something suspicious was happening, and it wasn't just the art heist.

"You blew up an entire wall, Remus." Roman whisper-yelled to his brother.

"No way. I did not blow up the entire wall, just most of it." Remus said as a matter of factly.

"They know someone is sneaking in now." Roman told him.

"Then you better hurry up and replace the painting then." Remus told him as he started walking back to the van.

Roman would have argued more, but he was right. They had to finish this job now. Roman ran to the meeting point to meet up with Janus. The door was open, thankfully, but Janus wasn't there. Something went wrong. He couldn't wait for them. He needed to find that stolen painting as soon as possible.

Roman raced through the gallery, trying to find the painting. He eventually found where the artwork was supposed to be. There was a sign with the thief's name and their fake title, but no artwork. He sent Logan a panicked text explaining the situation.

"That was completely irresponsible, Remus." Logan scolded him.

"Hey, it was loud enough to drown out the fire alarm and caused all the workers to check it out." Remus defended himself.

"Including Janus. Luckily they left the door open for Roman. Unfortunately, someone stole the painting before we could."

"WHAT!?" Virgil yelled. He started mumbling to himself and spiraling into a panic attack.

"I'll help Roman get out of there. You help Virgil." Remus said. He wasn't stupid. He knew when it was time to get serious. This could have serious consequences.

"Not to worry, Virgil. This is a minor set back. We have to tell our client that someone else stole their artwork, and there is nothing more that we can do."

"They'll be disappointed with us." Virgil told him through shakey breaths and tears.

"No, they won't. I'm confident we got further than they expected us to get. Now, let's work on your breathing."

"Okay." Virgil mumbled.

Remus snuck into the museum through the open fire escape. He found his brother in the gallery where the art was supposed to be. "Alright, we need to leave before we get caught. Take the painting with you. We can't let anyone know we were ever here." Remus told him.

"Right." Roman said as he got up and followed Remus through the entrance they came in through.

The two made it back to the van without being detected.

"Okay, we will be here for another moment while I reset the museum security cameras. Then, we will be on our way back home. No one will know we were there. Janus and Patton will make sure of that." Logan said while sending a text to Janus and Patton to let them know the updated plan. The text he got back was far more concerning.

"Let's go back where we were and try to find the intruder." Maddison told Janus. She grabbed them by the wrist and led them away from Patton and Carl.

Once they were out of sight, Carl let out a sigh of relief. "I'll let you in on a little secret on why I'm not too worried about this."

"What's happening?" Patton asked.

"Do you remember when I told you that someone was taking credit for someone else's artwork here?" Carl asked. Patton just nodded. "Maddison and I were going to do something about that. We took the painting down and hid it in her car. We were going to say that the art thieves held us at gunpoint and threatened to shoot us if we tried to stop them. I really hope you don't think less of us."

Patton nodded once more. "I have a confession too." Patton explained everything he and "Dee" were doing but left everyone else's name out of it to Carl.

Carl called Maddison back to the hole in the wall and told them to bring Janus with her.

"Well I guess the cat's-" Janus started. "Meow." Patton interrupted.

"Now that you two are in on the plan, we can call the police." Carl stated.

Maddison started the phone call while Carl got the story straight with Patton and Janus.

The police came a few hours later and questioned all the security guards all individually. They didn't suspect a thing.

Janus, Patton, Carl, and Maddison all went home. Patton brought the painting to the original owner, who thanked him for returning it.

On the drive back home, Patton and Janus could finally talk without the fear of being listened to. "How come you didn't have a problem lying to the police?" Janus asked.

"I am surprised at you, Janus. It's always morally correct to lie to police officers." Patton told him. Janus laughed. "Too true." he said. A moment of silence went by before Patton spoke up. "You might hate me for this, but that spare uniform was in my bag the whole time."

#my writing #sanders sides #fanfic #writers on tumblr #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #art heist au

16 notes · View notes

seething-fire · 2 years

Text

How I think the Sanders Sides would look if they were real

Warnings: mentions of weapons, but only as tattoos

Logan:

Tall boi, like 6’2 (187 cm)

He’s pretty pale, like could get a sunburn anytime, anywhere, kind of pale

His hair is naturally curly and blond, but he colors it brown because he got tired of all the blond jokes

I don’t really know how to describe the length, but all of it covers his ears, but doesn’t quite hit his jaw

He has acne scars on his cheeks and along his jawline

When he has more than two days off, he lets his beard grow (but not because he’s ashamed of his scars, he just likes having a beard)

Some freckles around his nose

DIMPLES

Stocky

He doesn’t lift weights, but he’s just a solid guy, ya know?

Has been asked if he’s a football (American football) player because of his build

Light blue eyes

Only wears square glasses

Immediately puts on some kind of woven bracelet when he gets home

When he’s not at work or school, he wears those gray sweatpants you know what I’m talking about

Only has about a million shirts with science and space puns on them

Has a pair of fluffy slippers that he loves

Patton:

He’s just a bit shorter than Logan and Virgil, so he’s 5’9 (175 cm)

His skin is gorgeous, a rich tawny shade

Dark wavy hair that almost reaches his shoulders

He’s kind of lanky; he’s thin and has long legs

Brown eyes (He likes to describe them as a “cocoa” shade because of his love for chocolate lol)

Has faint smile lines because he smiles so much

Has a slit in one of his eyebrows (not on purpose; gardening accident)

Likes to wear glasses in fun shapes or circles

When he’s at home by himself, he’s sporting the cat hoodie and boxers we all know this man doesn't wear pants if not necessary

He also loves socks with cute designs, so whenever he’s with his friends, he shows them off

Loves rings, especially ones that have hearts, or some other kind of shape/pattern

Paints his nails a new color every week

Tiny pride flag tattooed on his thigh

Enjoys experimenting with makeup, so he wears eyeshadow and lipstick sometimes

Roman:

He’s 5’7 (170 cm)

His skin is a warm sepia

His hair is pretty short, but long enough to make a quiff (yes, that’s how he wears his hair)

Currently it’s the natural color, but before he cut it, it was blue

As far as his body goes, he’s muscular

He could be considered ripped

Wears smaller shirts than he needs to so he can show off his muscles (think Steve Rogers)

Deep brown eyes

He has a small scar on his right cheek (He’s learning to love it)

*Loves* tattoos, so he has a few small ones

There’s a sword behind his ear

A crown on his shoulder

A rose on the inside of his right wrist

And a Disney quote along his left forearm

He thinks of himself as a art museum and those are his tiny pieces of art

He lounges around the house in a muscle tank and athletic shorts

Paints his nails with Patton

Virgil:

Another tall boi; he’s 6’1 (185 cm)

He has dark brown skin

Bright purple fade, and you cannot change my mind (he loved the purple hair on Thomas)

The top is a bit long and very curly (He has 4C curls)

Hazel eyes

He’s chubby and has a cute belly

He’s got a little bit of extra fat on the sides of his lower rib cage, so when he’s home alone, he goes shirtless so he can see it all

He really adores the way piercings look, so he has a couple

A bar in one of his ears

An eyebrow piercing

And a lip ring

He also likes tattoos He and Roman may or may not get theirs done together

But Virgil is covered in them

He’s got some music related ones (you know one of them has to do with MCR)

A few small skulls here and there, spider webs on the skin in between his fingers

Things that symbolize mental health struggles

Jack Skellington ;)

And just a few random ones (a very small goldfish on his ankle)

He just wears boxers when he’s by himself so he can see all the art all over his body

But when there are other people around, he wears band t shirts and pajama bottoms

Janus:

Short king; 5’6 (167 cm)

His skin can be described as terra cotta, almost

Long, dark hair

He puts in a bun when he wears his hat

Has a similar build to Logan, but he’s shorter, so it looks different on him

His shoulders are broad, and his legs are on the shorter side

Has been described as “solid”

His eyes are a stunning deep deep brown

Also has dimples

May or may not have acrylics

He likes to get snakes painted on them

Permanent dark circles under his eyes

Tongue piercing

We know he can ROCK a skirt, so he wears them a lot

But when he’s by himself, he wears a fluffy white robe, no matter the weather

Because of the aesthetic, obviously

He also saves his money for designer jewelry, so over the years, he’s slowly acquired a nice collection of expensive stuff that he wears all the time

Remus:

Somehow much taller than Roman; 6’0 (182 cm)

Like his brother, he has the same beautiful skin tone

He has a curly mullet (his hair is naturally straight, but he got a perm)

It’s shaved on the sides

Has two slits in both eyebrows

And dark brown eyes like his twin

He’s the thinnest out of everyone

Has a couple face tattoos and piercings

Septum piercing, snake bites, eyebrow piercing

A tiny garbage can tattoo on his temple

“pull the lever” across his jawline (yes, it’s an Emperor’s New Groove reference)

He also thought it sounded metal as hell

A dagger on his neck

And a small “x” under his eye

Always wearing eyeliner and black nail polish

Wears punk clothes

Even in his down time

Chains, patches, safety pins, diy clothes, all of it

HUGE platform boots

Still hasn’t taken his hospital bracelet off since the last time he was there

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #ts janus #ts remus #sanders sides headcanon #thomas sanders sanders sides #tss headcanon

48 notes · View notes

leconcombrerit · 3 years

Text

Patton joined the gang, my work is now complete.

#yes nail art for Patton #NAIL ART FOR PATTON I SAID #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #art

4K notes · View notes

sugarglider-s · 4 years

Note

Remy in court: "You will find this man innocent, or my name isn't Remy 'Tiddies Out' Fey!" | Virgil, dying of embarrassment in the back row: "That's not your name, no one calls you that, 🅱️lease button your shirt." | Patton, taking notes: "Is that how you win cases? Tiddies out?" | Logan, too gay to function: "You shouldn't make that your strategy ... but also ... I won't stop you..."

Anon this is the FUNNIEST thing I’ve ever fucking read abtnsbdjbdjhd I needed to draw it

#also: yes Remy has black stiletto nails and you cant change my mind #sugartalks #ace attorney au #tw caps #cursing #my art #thomas sanders #sanders sides #tsart #thatsthat24 #logan sanders #logicality #patton sanders #remy sanders #virgil sanders

720 notes · View notes

sandersides-incorrectquotes · 4 years

Text

hii um. this isn’t an incorrect quote but !! i just wanted to come out (?) and say a few things most of you probably don’t know !!

my name is kally !!

i’m a female pronouns- she/her

i’m a child lmao, i’m 12.

i’m bisexual 80/20 girls lean

my other incorrect quotes blog is @samandcolby-incorrectquotes !!!

if you ever want to get to know me follow my twitter and message me that ur from ss incorrect and we can talk / twt- @/reddiegolbach

other fandoms i’m in:

-dan and phil

-sam and colby & their friends

-kian and jc

-corey and crawford

-it & it 2

-i’m also obsessed with many bands ie, waterparks, cavetown, ajr, p!atd, tøp

-i’m also very obsessed with tik tok follow me @/samskatrina or @/reddiegolbach

19 notes · View notes

averykedavra · 3 years

Text

A Vision with Nowhere to Go

Hi, yes, the Roman skirt pics watered my crops and healed my soul, so I wrote a quick drabble in their honor! This was entirely unplanned. But. Hi. Yes. The Roman skirt picks watered my crops and healed my soul, so--

(Title is from Ready to Go by Panic! at the Disco. This fic is on Ao3 here!)

Pairings: platonic DLAMP

Words: 1742

Warnings: a bit of insecurity and anxiety

“I’ve gathered you here,” Roman said, “for an important consultation. Thank you all for coming.”

Patton grinned back. Logan looked confused. Virgil blinked blearily, having been just dragged from his bed and plopped on the living room couch with the other Sides. Janus stifled a yawn with one gloved hand, another drumming on his knee.

“Do we...” Logan paused. “Am I alone in being confused?”

“Oh, no, you’re the only one who doesn’t get it,” Janus drawled. He examined his nails. “I had important things to do. This had better be worth it.”

“You owe me,” Roman said. He squared his shoulders and prepared his speech. “And this is extremely important. Life-threatening! A dilemma for the ages!”

“Yay!” Patton said, clapping.

“Wait, wait.” Virgil squinted suspiciously across the couch. “Deceit is here?”

“I don’t have a name.”

“Janus is here because, as I said, he owes me.” Roman paused and braced himself. “Also, although I’m loathe to admit it, he is skilled in the dramatic arts. Such as--fashion.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Virgil leaned back into the pillows. “He wears gardening gloves from the nineteen-fifties.”

Janus looked offended. “You threw random squares of flannel onto your hoodie, and you call me lacking fashion sense--”

“Kiddos,” Patton said firmly. “This is about Roman right now. Shush.”

Virgil grumbled but went silent. Janus gave Logan a knowing, annoyed look. Logan didn’t return it.

“It is about me,” Roman said, beaming. He was jumping up and down on the balls of his feet. “Now, as you know, we’ve been having some lovely photoshoots. Patton looked adorable--”

“Aw, kiddo!”

“Logan looked like a librarian who would tell me to shut up--”

“How dare you.”

“And Virgil somehow managed to be more edgy than ever.” Roman talked loudly over Virgil’s hiss. “And now, it’s my turn.”

“Oh, are you finally doing your photoshoot?” Janus sighed in relief. “You’ve taken forever. I can’t go until you do.”

“I’ve taken my sweet time, as a sweet prince should.” Roman gestured dramatically at them. “However, I must admit that I’ve hit a--roadblock of sorts. Namely, I can’t decide on a skirt.”

“Oh!” Patton nodded. “I’m sure you could search up one on Ebay--”

“One, Padre,” Roman said, raising a finger, “no one uses Ebay anymore.” Virgil nodded in agreement. “Two, the problem does not lie in finding possible skirts. I have found plenty. I simply cannot decide on one.”

Everyone on the couch suddenly winced. “I know where this is going,” Virgil muttered. “Don’t say it.”

“So,” Roman said, bravely muscling on. “I’ve enlisted you to help me choose the perfect skirt.”

Virgil groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Come on, Princey. I trusted you.”

“That sounds like fun!” Patton said. He looked around for support. “Aren’t you guys excited?”

“Ecstatic,” Janus said, pulling his bowler hat over his face. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Hey, no!” Roman pouted. “I need your help on this! It won’t be so bad!”

“Much as I hate to admit it,” Logan said slowly, “this is hardly my area of expertise. Surely you can make the choice yourself?”

“No!” Roman threw up his hands. “No, I can’t! I’ve tried for days, and I’ve narrowed it down to a few dozen, but there are just too many! I don’t know what shade of red I’d like, or what accents, or whether it should be a skirt or a dress--I haven’t decided on frills, or trimming, or lace, or layers, or anything!”

“Just wing it!” Virgil shrugged. “I grabbed the first skirt that looked cool. I know it sounds weird coming from me, but dude, don’t overthink it.”

“How can I not overthink it?” Roman raised an arm into the air. “I am posing for an audience of thousands! I have the single spotlight! I don’t wish for blemishes to be burned into view!”

“I have skin cream, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Janus blinked at everyone’s surprised look. “Self-care includes skin care!”

“Figurative blemishes,” Roman corrected, and Logan huffed smugly. “I want to look perfect. I need to look perfect. Except I don’t know what skirt to pick!”

“I dunno, kiddo.” Patton looked hesitant to contradict him. “I hear what you’re saying, but maybe Virgil’s right? This isn’t such a big deal. Have fun with it! Pick whatever skirt makes you smile!”

“I’ll smile with whatever makes me look like a prince.” Roman sighed. “It’s hard to focus on that when everything else is happening. It is a big deal. I know it is.”

“You don’t have to post your picture right away,” Logan said. “If you’d like, you can take your time, or not post one at all.”

“Janus is waiting for me to finish!” Roman gestured almost violently at Janus. “And I can’t just quit, that’s worse!”

Logan raised a hand in surrender. “Fine. You simply seem...agitated about the prospect. I don’t wish for you to feel undue stress.”

“Easy for you to say,” Roman snapped. “You looked great.”

“I--” Logan blinked. “I did?”

“Yeah! All of you did!” Roman waved his arms. “And I--I have to be at least as good as you guys, or better, because princes are extremely photogenic! They have the best outfits! They look good, and so must I!”

Virgil frowned and gave Patton a look. Patton shifted back and forth on the edge of the couch. Janus fingered his gloves again, pulling the edges across his skin, like he was considering whether to take them off.

“You’ll look good no matter what.” Logan coughed. “You are...nearly identical to us, so if we do, so will you. Objectively.”

“Yeah, you’ll look fine.” Virgil gestured at him. “You always do.”

“I know,” Roman said, and there was a weight to his words. As if Virgil hadn’t actually reassured him.

Janus’ fingers tightened around his gloves.

“It’s okay.” Patton’s voice came out as a whisper. He was staring at his knees. “I--I know you want something good right now, Roman. I get that. Just--this doesn’t need to be your...redemption, or whatever you’re trying to make it. It’s just a skirt. It really just should be fun.”

Logan’s mouth formed a small o. Virgil nodded.

“Patton’s right,” Janus said, his voice clipped. He was avoiding Roman’s eyes. “In my honest opinion, all pictures look better when the subject is enjoying themselves. Haven’t you seen those dull Victorian pictures? If you’re happy--smiling, even--I don’t think anyone will care about the minutia of your outfit. I certainly wouldn’t.”

Roman was quiet.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “What--what Janus said. We’re rooting for you, no matter what.”

“If this upsets you, I highly encourage you to take a pause.” Logan drummed his fingers on his tie. “Or...find a way to make the process more enjoyable.”

Roman shifted from foot to foot, pulling at his sash. "I--I tried. I wanted to.”

“You did?” Patton frowned. “When?”

“With...you guys.” Roman’s voice faltered. “I thought it would be--fun. If you helped. We could just--have fun. It was stupid.”

Logan’s eyebrows raised. Virgil sucked in a breath.

“That’s not stupid,” Janus said.

Roman sunk into himself, just a bit.

A clap of hands startled them all. Patton had sat up, looking determined. “So. What do we do? Do you have anything narrowed down?”

“Oh, I--” Roman stepped back. “You...you don’t have to, Padre. It’s okay.”

“We want to.” Virgil looked around. “Right?”

“Right,” Janus said. “It would be a shame to let you look like a complete fashion disaster.”

“I would be...amenable to helping.” Logan shot Roman a small smile. “It is not my area of expertise. However, I do know much about the process of creating fabric, and I--would appreciate the experience.”

“We want to do this for you, kiddo.” Patton looked up at Roman. “If it’s this much of a big deal for you, we’re gonna help.”

For a second, Roman’s eyes shone with tears. Then he blinked, and they shone with excitement. “You’re sure?”

Four thumbs up.

“Alright,” Roman said, beaming. “Let’s do this! Research time! Grab your stuff!”

Patton jumped up and ran to the kitchen, probably to make a batch of dress-up cookies. Logan pulled out his notebook and pen. Virgil started tapping at his phone. Roman stood and watched them, still smiling, smiling brighter than he had in days.

“That,” Janus said, pointing at him. “That’s what you do. Perfect.”

“What?” Roman laughed. “What do I do?”

“Smile like that for the picture.” Janus shrugged. “It’ll work spectacularly, in my humble opinion.”

“Oh.” Roman looked around and waved at Patton, who waved back. “I--I might not smile that wide. I’m not sure if--you know, it’s not exactly regal and princely. Besides, I’m not sure if I want--” He glanced at Virgil, who saluted him. “To be so...open. Not just yet.”

Janus watched him with an unreadable expression. Then he nodded, his lips lifting in a smile of his own. “That’s more than fine.”

“Really?” Roman asked.

“Of course.” Janus gestured at Logan, who was knee-deep in paper, and Patton and Virgil. “It will look great regardless. You have yourself a skilled design crew--with a talented fashionista at the reins, also known as myself.”

“Thanks,” Roman said. “For all the help. And for--yeah.”

Janus looked taken aback at the sincerity. His smile softened. “It really will look great, Roman. It’s you, after all.”

“It is,” Patton agreed, with a nod from Logan. “Any picture of our kiddo is a great one.”

“Amen.” Virgil smirked. “Pictures are crap. We know how cool you really look, no matter what you do.”

“Besides, we’re here to help.” Logan looked up and held out a pen. “Would you like to show us some of your ideas for the skirt? We could use those to find a good match.”

Roman paused. Then he took the pen.

“This is gonna be fun,” he said, "and it’s going to look so good.”

And it was. And it did.

And Roman loved the dress they chose, but he knew he wouldn’t remember the photo in the end. He’d remember the hours spent sprawled on the couch with his friends, sketching ribbons and lace, laughing and planning and eating Patton’s cookies. The photo came out great. The memories came out better.

The photo looked good. Roman looked good.

He felt good. That was more important. That was the part that made him smile afterwards, off-camera and off-stage, out of the spotlight.

Maybe the photo wasn’t the big deal, after all. Maybe Roman was.

General taglist (ask to be included or removed!):

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@dramaticsnakes

@stoicpanther

@chaospersonified

@thatoneloudowl

@jungle321jungle

@mistythegenderqueermess

@k1ngtok1

@joylessnightsky

@elizabutgayer

@ohheavenlylord

@enby-ralsei

@remy-the-lemon-berry

@drarrymalecsolangelo

@riptide-123

@fander-fic-recs

@multi-fandoms-posts

#sanders sides #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman angst #sanders sides fic #averywrites #good evening i'm here i'm queer and roman's skirt pics made me shed a tear #so uh yeah here's a litol fic for u good people

320 notes · View notes

olliedollie1204 · 4 years

Text

magic touch

Pairing: Romantic Moceit

Word Count: 1,322

so @emo-disaster asked for moceit, i was going to send this premise as an ask, but the more i thought about it the more i wanted to add to it, so... tada! my first bullet fic! hope y’all like it, love u mwah

so patton is obvi a v physically affectionate person

deceit is,,, less so

at least at first

here’s how that changed

it’s in the pining period, before the two of them got together

and deceit comes to a realization

the realization being... he kinda likes when patton... touches him?

no not like that remus

but like

patton throws an arm around his shoulder, casual and quick, and deceit lets him

patton grabs his hand, gives it a squeeze because something exciting and wonderful has just happened, and deceit lets him

patton ruffles his hair on the one single occasion patton sees him without his hat, and deceit lets him

deceit may or may not go without his hat again in the hopes that patton will repeat the gesture

and deceit doesn't realize how much he likes the touch

until it goes away

just for a few days!! maybe patton has to work overtime to help thomas w something, idk

but deceit's suddenly very aware of how. warm and soft and comforting and gentle patton is.

and he misses it?

even though he's not gone, just busy

but deceit would rather die before he asks patton to stop working to, what, come cuddle him?

that’s ridiculous

(he wants patton to cuddle him, tho. he wants to v v bad)

‘but NO’ deceit says to himself, ‘of COURSE i don't need that, i didn't need it before and i don't need it now’

liar liar pants on fire

so deceit hunkers down, does his own stuff for a few days

but he can’t stop wondering why he feels so pent up and tense and irritated

meanwhile

patton's a little worse for wear himself

he's worn out and tired from working so hard recently

and he wouldn't mind some physical affection?

but he knows that's not deceit's thing and he doesn't wanna pressure him

(he’d never, ever wanna pressure him)

so when he finally gets a break, a night to himself, some time alone to relax and recuperate from all his work

he tiptoes to deceit's room

telling himself he's content with just saying hi and good night

and ‘i love you’

but patton doesn’t want to pressure him

so he knocks on deceit’s door

nothing

knocks again

nothing

he pushes a little harder on the door with his knuckles, and-

and it swings open

like maybe deceit was leaving it open for someone

so patton steps in

deceit’s at his desk, his back to the door

no hat, no capelet

just simple pajamas and big noise cancelling headphones on his head

‘did he steal those from virgil?’ patton wonders idly

he did

patton takes a few steps toward him

“hi, dee”

deceit’s hands are flying over the keyboard, patton almost couldn’t even hear himself over the click-clack of the keys

patton gets a bit closer, tries again

“deceit?”

still nothing

patton is standing right behind him now

patton can smell his shampoo from here

patton can’t explain why he does what he does next

patton lifts his hand

and places it flat on deceit’s back, right between his shoulderblades

... deceit.exe has stopped working

what that looks like is this: deceit’s fingers suddenly spasm, like he started to clench his fists but froze halfway through, and his perfect typing suddenly stops, the last line of text now riddled with typos and incomprehensible keysmashes

it was less than a second, but it could’ve been years

patton feels the subtle shift of tense muscles underneath his palm

deceit feels a sudden warmth that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up

the next second, and the moment passes

patton pulls away, all “i’m sorry!” and “i didn’t mean to interrupt you” and “i just wanted to see you, to say hi, to say goodnight, to say-”

deceit isn’t listening

deceit is spinning around in his desk chair

deceit is leaping up to grab patton’s wrist

gently, gently, so gently

deceit is pulling patton into him

deceit

and

patton

are

hugging

...

‘he’s hugging me?’ patton thinks, the one thought his brain can create in this moment of shock

‘i’m hugging him?’ deceit thinks, the one thought his brain can create in this moment of humiliation

honestly, ‘hugging’ is generous

it’s more like deceit has wrapped his arms around patton’s neck

his face has fallen onto his shoulder

just absolutely clinging to him, really

the snake jumped out

and deceit is... so embarrassed

but he can’t make himself let go

and then

deceit still can’t believe this

and then patton

hugs

him

back

???

DECEIT.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING

patton doesn’t say anything

(patton is having trouble remembering how to breathe, let alone how to form words into coherent sentences)

instead patton finally manages to raise his arms

wraps them so tightly around deceit’s torso

leans forward to smell that shampoo up close

it’s eucalyptus, if you’re wondering

like second nature, patton rubs his hands up and down deceit’s back

he’s warm and soft and comforting and gentle

... oh my god, deceit has missed this so much

at some point, one of patton’s hands rises to card through deceit’s hair and he almost whines out loud at how good it feels

patton scratches his nails very softly against deceit’s scalp

deceit does whine out loud, actually

it’s illegally adorable

that little noise is enough to break the spell

deceit pulls his head back

he hopes beyond hope that his blush isn’t visible in the half light of his room

it is but patton doesn’t mention it

“um” deceit says

“sorry about. that”

eloquent as ever

patton blinks

“why sorry?”

“because” deceit starts

he doesn’t finish

because he realizes two things

the first realization: his arms are still wrapped around patton

(a distressing observation, to be sure)

the second realization?

patton’s arms are still wrapped around deceit as well

(less distress, more confusion)

“dee?”

patton’s face inches away from his

patton’s eyes sparkling even in the dark

patton’s... lips-

...

deceit is kissing him

deceit is... kissing. Him.

... huh

...

... oh! oh, he should be kissing back!

so patton kisses deceit back

and they kiss

and they... wow, still kissing, huh?

ok let’s jump forward a bit

patton has changed into some of deceit’s pajamas

(he could’ve conjured his own but they both sorta pretend to forget that fact)

(because deceit’s sleep shirt absolutely swallows patton)

(and it makes patton feel really good)

(and it makes deceit feel really good)

and patton has asked once more if deceit is sure he doesn’t mind if patton sleeps in their

“i mean, it’s your room, i don’t wanna impose, just say the word and i’ll leave-”

“patton we just made out for 20 minutes, don’t you think if i wanted you gone i’d have said so sooner?”

(deceit is being extra snarky to hide the fact that his blush has somehow not died down in the slightest)

(patton sees right through him so it’s ok)

so eventually they manage to get into bed together

no not like that remus

and there’s just like. a few beats of awkwardness

because even tho they’re *~going steady~* they’ve obviously never really done anything like this before

and deceit doesn’t wanna seem needy

and patton doesn’t wanna seem pushy

so they literally take it inch by inch

patton: *brushes his pinky against deceit’s*

deceit: *grazes the back of patton’s hand with his knuckles*

like i’m talking glacier pace

but they’re smiling and giggling (and yes, deceit, blushing) like little kids

so deceit finally works up the nerve to push his back against patton’s chest

and patton finally works up the courage to wrap his arms around deceit’s torso

and it’s like two pieces of a puzzle have just clicked in place

because

surprise surprise

turns out these motherfuckers love to cuddle

and the rest is history

edit: now with art to go with it!! thank you star!!

#sanders sides #patton sanders #deceit sanders #moceit #my posts #my writing

2K notes · View notes

madpatkats · 3 years

Text

Butterflies

Credit to @not-exactly-laborious and their amazing art for giving me the idea.

Ship: prinxiety Description: Roman loved the butterflies, they were beautiful and they showed the softer side of Virgil. But when Patton said that he never saw them, Roman set out to learn what the butterflies. tw: kissing

One of the purple butterflies flew towards Roman landing on the tip of his finger. The creative side grinned, inspecting the beautiful creature resting on his hand.

“They truly are beautiful, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at Virgil, who was surrounded by the butterflies.

Virgil blushed and ducked his head. “I guess they are pretty nice, even if they mess up my aesthetic.”

For hours, they sat there, talking as the butterflies soared around the dark room, occasionally getting caught in the webs that covered the walls. Eventually, Roman muttered that he’d better get back to conjuring up a new idea and slipped out of the dark room.

“Farewell, Emo Nightmare, I shall see you again soon.”

Smiling slightly, Virgil gave a tentative wave as Roman disappeared. But what the creative side didn’t see, was the cloud of shining purple butterflies disappearing.

“Y’know those butterflies truly are magnificent. And I will never get tired of saying that.”

Patton stared at Roman, an eyebrow raised. “What butterflies?”

“The ones in Virgil’s room, of course.”

“He... He doesn’t have butterflies in his room.”

Roman’s eyebrows furrowed. “... Yes he does.”

Patton shook his head, smiling slightly. “Maybe they only come out when you’re there, kiddo.”

Muttering something about talking to Logan, Roman traipsed up the stairs, leaving Patton cooking dinner. Without asking, Roman opened the door and set on the chair by Logan’s desk. Sighing, the logical side spun in his chair, stopping when he faced Roman.

“Can we make this quick? I need to get back to work.”

“Virgil has butterflies in his room, right?”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “As far as I am aware, Virgil’s room is not home to butterflies.”

“But I see them every time I’m in there!”

Thinking, Logan stared at the astronomy patterns on the ceiling for a second. then, he grabbed his notebook and leaned forward in his seat.

“Can you describe these butterflies to me?”

For the next ten minutes, Roman talked about the butterflies in every detail that he could remember. By the end of it, Logan had full pages of notes.

“Well... from what I deduced, the butterflies must be triggered to appear by something about you.”

Roman curled away from Logan. “You are not using me as a test subject, okay?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “‘Butterflies in your stomach’ is a phrase, correct?”

“Yes...?”

“And it is usually to do with experiencing anxiety due to romantic attraction, right?”

Though he was still confused, Roman nodded silently. Groaning, Logan held his head in his hands.

“Oh my- do I really have to spell it out for you? Virgil likes you romantically!”

Cheeks flushing as red as his sash, Roman’s eyes widened. “No... that can’t be correct.”

“Just go talk to Virgil, okay? You two need to sort yourselves out.”

Logan turned back to his computer.

Roman appeared in Virgil’s room, surprising the anxious side. Sure enough, the butterflies appeared and started fluttering around the room.

“Do you like me?”

The number of butterflies doubled. Virgil’s cheeks were so red, Roman could see it under the foundation.

“I- uh... what?”

Feeling his own cheeks redden, Roman moved closer.

“Do you like me romantically? Is that what the butterflies mean?”

Virgil opened his mouth, but nothing left his lips. Eventually he gave up trying to deny it.

“Who told you? Logan?”

Roman was shocked. “So it’s true.”

Picking at his black nail varnish, Virgil looked down at his lap

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I get it if you don’t like me like that and never wanna see me again. I mean I’d prefer t if I still got to see you but-”

He stopped when he felt fingers interlace with his own. Virgil looked up to find Roman grinning down at him.

“I like you too,” he whispered.

A soft smile pulled at Virgil’s lips and his eyeshadow turned purple.

“May I kiss you, Virgil?”

The anxious side nodded. They met each other in the middle, lips pressed together in a sweet kiss. When they finally pulled away, Roman found a flower-crown of fluttering purple wings resting on his head. He really loved those butterflies, and he hoped that they never went away.

#Sorry if this is bad #prinxiety #Sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan

117 notes · View notes

evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn · 3 years

Text

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

Chapter 5: To A Land Of Our Imagination

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

Word count: 3471

Tw: Wounds, food, swearing

~~~

Logan planned the second date two days after the first. A picnic in the imagination, that Roman insisted on helping out with.

It took them quite a while to prepare everything. A red gingham print blanket in a field of many flowers on a hill, the sight of a rather giant disney-inspired castle in the far distance, mountains enveloping the horizons; very picturesque, certainly. He even offered to set up an orchestra off the side for them, but Logan declined. Logan was worried that they would get sunburnt due to the realistic touch that he brings, but Roman insisted that wouldn’t happen. And then Logan insisted that he didn’t know that it wouldn’t.

The banter was probably what took the longest time. It started with the back and forth about the likelihood of a sunburn, and then whether Thomas would typically tan or burn, and then it spiralled into nothingness. Obviously Roman made zero sense, but Logan was still determined to prove his point.

“No, Thomas should not get a surgical beauty mark. It’s pointless and expensive when you could have the same results with the smallest amounts of makeup.”

“But it adds character! All of the glamor girls have beauty marks! And besides, why put in the effort of putting on the beauty mark every day when you can just wake up that way?” Roman rebuttals, and Logan cannot begin to express just how stupid that argument is.

“A few seconds of a makeup pencil and maybe some powder isn’t that much effort. What would be an effort is spending a ridiculous sum of money on something he might regret and want gone. It would be a waste of resources for something thought of on a whim. That money would also go into the beauty industry, the industry that profits off of one’s self-hatred.” He argues, because yes, in a world where hating oneself is so common and so profitable, the most rebellious thing one can do is to learn to love themself.

“Makeup is also a part of the beauty industry.”

“It’s nowhere near as harmful and expensive though. It’s not just about insecurities, but also accentuating features that you enjoy in yourself. It also happens to be an art form, so I’m surprised that you’d even try that useless fact.”

Roman huffs. He’s probably not that interested in the beauty mark, but sometimes impulse can make you do stupid things. He does however look upset, and Logan hesitates.

“You know what you can do with makeup?” Logan asks, and they look at each other.

“What?” He asks, still pouting.

“Make many beauty marks. And change their locations when you feel like it.” He offers, and Roman lights up like that very dangerous chemical reaction Remus and himself attempted on bonding day.

“By the fourth musketeer, you’re right!” Roman touches his own face, lost in thought. “You could switch it up daily!”

It took a while longer for him to acknowledge what they were supposed to be doing, and then they were touching up the flowers (which is when Logan notices Bells of Ireland, sticking out amongst the other flowers, and assisting in integrating them into the green fields, like the flowers just popped up amongst nature. He believes Roman had summoned them around for him, and he can’t help but smile.) and then heading to the exit so Logan could get the ‘object of his affections’.

“Are you going to be in the imagination?” Logan asks him.

“Well, duh. I’ll obviously be out of earshot, but duty calls, and I have quests to attend to! Can’t have a realm without it’s heroes, right?”

“I guess not.” Logan nods. Roman’s going to play immersive make-belief then. Very well. That does usually help with Thomas’s motivation. Logan thinks of asking to join him sometime, and then decides that would most likely end horribly. Maybe Dungeons & Dragons would be a better solution.

He leaves Roman at the doorway, going to retrieve Patton. It isn’t very hard; he finds him in the living room holding a picnic basket and smiling brightly.

“That really, isn’t necessary.” He points to the basket. “We have food at the location.”

“What’s a little more? Besides, I have a little surprise to help with the planning.” He leans in and fake whispers.

Logan blinks. “A planner?”

“No, even better. But don’t guess. You know your old Patton-ership Person can’t keep a secret for very long.”

Logan groans at the pun, and they head back through Roman’s door to the imagination. It isn’t long before they reach the flowery hills (Logan wanted it to be accessible, to avoid an awkwardly long walk), and he sits down on the large blanket. Patton coos at the view, and the enchanting flower fields.

“Is Roman here?” He asks, looking around. He sets the basket down.

“He said he wouldn’t be nearby, and I trust his word, but he is in the imagination.”

Patton lets out a sigh in relief and sits down. “Okay. I just know he’d be mad if he found out, buuut…” He opens the petite basket’s lid, and like the objects from Mary Poppins bag sprouts Janus, arms held out dramatically.

“What is up losers? I’m here to foil all of your plans.” He lightly steps out of the basket, and plops down so they’re all facing each other in a triangle. “By making them better. You’ll thank me later.”

Although Logan is surprised, he isn’t really bothered. He’s quite similar to Roman in the theatrics, so perhaps he’ll prove to add ideas that would give life and a charming flair to his own.

“Very well.” Logan pulls out a notepad from god-knows-where. “Welcome to the ‘date’.” He does quotation marks with his fingers, and Patton leans excitedly to Janus.

“I think that’s what we’re calling it now. ‘Date’, but you have to do the thing with your fingers.” He does the finger quotations.

“What a lame concept. I love it.” Janus smiles. “I’m absolutely dreading spectating this ‘date’.” He does the finger quotations, and adds a little more emphasis on the word. At least he seems to be having fun.

“So. First step: The goal.”

“Find out if Roman really does have legs.” Janus answers at the same time Patton exclaims “Marry a pretty prince!”

“That was not supposed to be a guessable statement. And both of you are wrong. Patton, we do not have legal documents and cannot legally marry. The goal is to ‘woo’ Roman.”

“There may be or may not be a very easy solution for this.” Janus suggests, lounging back and checking his nails despite his gloves.

“What would be that solution?” Logan narrows his eyes at him.

“Oh I don’t know… Tell him how you feel.” He looks at him face-on, dead-serious.

“But… He most likely does not feel the same way. Besides, he wouldn’t like something so… Insignificant. He’s embodied himself after a prince, for Newton’s sake.” Logan argues, heart clutching painfully (metaphorically, obviously. If someone’s heart clutches painfully in real life, he recommends they go to a doctor and get it checked), and looking off into the distance, calculating the odds of rejection. He so far has not detected any signs or repercussions in the romance, and with Roman’s celebrity crushes being people like Adam Driver and Orville Peck, how is he supposed to compare? He can make a schedule planner less important than a social engagement.

“Oh come on, cheer up champ! I’m sure he’ll love it no matter what you do!” Patton encourages, giving him thumbs up. Logan looks at him, unimpressed.

“But will he really? These… Unnecessary feelings have rendered me even less functioning around him, so psychologically speaking, I’ve been even less perfect around him. He lives off the idea of a perfect, film-like life. Disney prince… Disney Relationship, Disney prince partner. Why would he like me? I look like a teacher.” As Logan continues his rant, now up and pacing, Janus shoots Patton a knowing look, and Patton eventually looks at him with an unknowing look.

“What?” Patton asks quietly, as Logan rambles.

“You don’t know?” Janus looks surprised.

“Know what?”

“Roman hasn’t told you about… You know…”

Patton looks at him, attempting to decipher what he means. Eventually, he quizzically does a limp wrist.

“No!” Janus whisper-shouts, exasperated. “Of course he’s gay. I’m talking about something else.”

“I’m lost.” He admits.

Janus leans in and whispers into his ear.

“Oh yeah! He has.” Patton gives him a thumbs up.

“I need a new style!” Logan turns and points at them, and they both display their shock easily.

“Dear god no. You’d look more out of place than Remus during the cosplay phase.” Janus jerks back, appalled. (Besting Remus in being out of place while he was in Thomas’s cosplay phase is nothing to roll your eyes at. Stripper Kermit is only one of many horrendous ideas that Janus has had the pleasure of being scarred by.)

“But think about it. You often see someone in a new light when they go through a big style change, whether they’ve changed as a person or not. When we altered our outfits for the first time, it was like a fresh new start. We were new, and more impressive models of our past selves of just three seconds before.”

“I see your point kiddo, but that just isn’t you! It’ll work against you in the long run if you try to be someone that you’re not.”

“Agreed. Seriously. Not to mention you’d be boring no matter what you wear; might as well be more comfortable doing it.”

Logan considers it. He nods, and sits down. “Alright. Thank you for your encouragement. I’m still not going to tell him outright.”

Patton raises his hand. “I have an idea.”

“Alright, hit us.” Janus looks at him.

“If you are to hit us, do it gently please. And preferably on the arm. I quite like these glasses.” Logan nods, accepting his fate.

“It’s an expression.” Janus side-eyes him, and gestures for Patton to start.

“How about… We leave the idea of telling him directly as an option, but also make a plan? That way, you have many options to pick from!” He encourages, looking like a parent bargaining with their toddler.

“That wouldn't be unreasonable.” Logan takes out a pen, and clicks it on. “Now, why don’t we start?”

By the time they leave the imagination, Logan has notes full of ideas. It’s a little bit difficult to have the best brainstorms without a literal embodiment of creativity, but both of them are bad ideas to invite for different reasons, and not being in charge of creativity doesn’t stop the rest of them from coming up with creative thoughts. (If that were the case, the same concept could be applied to himself, and it would have probably killed him by now if he were the only one with an ounce of logic.)

He steps into Roman’s room. Nice as always, if not looking slightly blank. Maybe he’s just used to the disorder now.

He rips out a separate paper, and leaves it on Roman’s cluttered desk, to notify him in the future that he is no longer in his realm. He catches a glimpse of other papers on his desk, and is that-

“Poetry?” Obviously, Logan does not want to disrespect his privacy, but he does read the line he has seen. It was quite good. It seemed to be about jealousy, but he’s not the best at deciphering emotions, so he isn’t completely sure. He also catches a few typos.

He stands straight again, paces a little bit and just as he's about to sink out, he hears the imagination door open.

Roman stumbles in, heaving and drenched in sweat. He looks dull and lifeless, until he looks at Logan. It’s like a switch goes off, and he looks like his usual self again.

“Heading out?”

“That’s right. The date just ended.”

“That’s wonderful! How did it go?” He asks, strutting over, trying hard but failing to hide a limp.

“Are you alright?” Logan looks at him, and the standard first aid courses that Thomas has taken in his lifetime start kicking in.

"I'm-" And a poorly concealed wince. "Okay. Just a scrape from the dragon witch. Nothing a happy pappy prince can't handle."

"That's not something you usually say." Logan squints at him, taking a step closer. "Did you hit your head? You're starting to sound like Patton. I'm not leaving here until you let me help you."

"Ugh, fine." He flails out his arms, and then jerks them back in pain. "But seriously, how did it go?"

"It went well. Thank you for the Irish bells. We discussed things that one would do in a romantic setting, and then we dispersed. There will be another date fairly soon. I just stayed to drop off a note on your desk to inform you of our departure."

His eyes go wide. "My desk? Did you read any of my writing?" He asks, sounding panicked, with a hint of defensive nature.

"I did, actually. Not on purpose, I'm sorry. It was a poem that I believe is about jealousy. I read the third paragraph. It was quite well done." Logan bashfully admits.

"Oh. Thank you." He offers a small smile.

Logan suddenly remembers the wounds. "Now. Let's get to fixing you up. Do you have any cuts? Scrapes? Open wounds?" As he sits Roman down and checks over his injuries, he can't help but hurt a little bit on the inside. Roman's self preservation seems to have left him a long time ago, and he always gets reckless. He can't seem to let anyone see his weakness, and that's perhaps what he and Logan have most in common; although, Logan hasn't been injured physically in quite a while.

He finds a first aid kit (in Roman's nightstand. How concerning.) and helps patch up his wounds. Thankfully, Roman wasn't fully lying, as his injuries mainly consisted of bruises and mild cuts, but Logan made sure to take care of them all the same.

"I just realized." Roman whispers, eyes closed as Logan puts a band-aid on his arm.

"That's a new concept."

Roman ignores that. "You've done so much for me over the last while. To be fair, you always do things for me, but this week... Teaching me how to bake, leaving out cookies for me, which were heavenly by the way, thank you, helping with nail polish even though it was on your bed, this... It's quite a lot. I feel like I haven't done enough for you."

"Oh come on, don't metaphorically sell yourself short. This whole time, you've helped me set up my dates with Patton. Many of them, in fact. I had been nervous to tell him, and you helped me the whole way along. I am quite grateful for your contributions, Roman." Logan chuckles a little bit, because although expressing your gratitude for something that you don't care about may seem pointless, Roman still put in all of the effort. He did the planning, the setup and design, and wherever he was needed, he'd be. Logan had heard that he even managed to convince Remus to keep the funky business away from the 'dates'. That's quite a lot of work, and Logan appreciates every second of it.

"Nooo but that isn't enough! I want to take you somewhere special to thank you."

"Really Roman, that isn't necessary-"

"Thomas!" Roman screams into his ceiling. "You know how you're free in three weekends!? Yeah, well you're going to a planetarium now! Bring friends so you don't look like a loser." And sure enough, he can feel that Thomas has got the idea.

Logan's heart metaphorically explodes out of his chest with how strong it's beating. Thomas hasn't been to a planetarium in ages. It isn't really Logan's role to suggest activities on the fun side, so he's kept to himself, silently hoping for another side to bring it up. They have spare money for it. And here it is. In three weeks from now.

"That's... I don't know what to say. Thank you." He clutches the first aid kit to his chest.

"Well duh thank me, but it's okay. It's payback." Roman gives him two band-aid speckled thumbs up. "Consider it a date."

Uh-

Hm. Well, there goes Logan. On the floor. Dead.

~~~

"More sophisticated and logical word for fuck."

Logan slams open Virgil's door, just as he's putting the last details on his embroidered spider web jacket.

"Dude, what?" Vrigil turns to him, only to see Logan laying on the floor, malfunctioning.

He goes over to the lifeless form. “Logan… You, like, never come to me with your emotional problems. I can’t help people. Do you want me to tease you? Because I can totally tease you.” He pokes him, and Logan rolls over to face the ceiling.

“It’s because I never have emotional problems, Virgil. I believe in you to keep a secret however.”

“Is this about the planetarium Thomas just planned? Because I can totally see why he shouldn’t go, with all those people around, judging his every step, and the chance of being separated from his friends, or seeing someone familiar and it’s just awkward..”

“No, I agreed to the idea. I had wanted to go for quite a while.”

“Does it… Have to do with Roman?”

“Of course it has to do with Roman. Even now, he is still the largest thorn in my side.”

“Apparently you’re a masochist then. So, what’s up with him and the planetarium?” Virgil circles him, seeming bored but willing to hear the story.

“He was the one who suggested it. In fact he said to ‘a date’.”

“Ahh. So you are here for emotional issues.”

“It’s not an emotional issue. I simply wanted to tell you that I think it is an optimal time to tell Roman about my newfound fondness for him.” He sits up, and Virgil gives him a hand to stand.

Virgil chuckles. “It’s not bad to ask for help, Logan. But that does sound like a good idea, or whatever.”

“Of course it’s a good idea.” Logan says, hand bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. He looks like he’s sweating. Virgil squints.

“But you’re nervous.” He observes. “And you want to talk about it with someone.” He holds up a hand before Logan can protest. “Ah-ah. Don’t lie to me on this one. Sit down.” He takes out a chair, and then looks at Logan. “You know what, maybe not in my room.”

So they go to Logan’s room, and he explains his plans, and some worries, and Virgil nods along and agrees.

“By the way, have you been seeing the way Roman’s been acting lately?” After Logan seems to have finished with ideas, and they were just sitting together, Virgil speaks up.

“No? Perhaps. He did want to make cookies, which is odd for him, and he called me kiddo, if I remember correctly.” Logan recounts the last few days. He’s not completely sure. Roman has always been a slight enigma to him.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. A few days ago, he came into the living room, and he was wearing a polo! If it weren’t for the colors, I would’ve thought he was Patton. And then.” Virgil stares at Logan, who looks impassively back at him. “Just yesterday, Remus told me that he dumped some of his posters into the trash.”

“Ah, perhaps he’s finally taking advantage of his wall space.” Logan says quite proudly, in a room where there are many cork boards on every left-over piece of wall he has open.

“No, you don’t get it. When’s the last time you’ve seen his room without posters?”

“To be honest, I don’t remember.” Logan admits. Virgil nods along, his eyes staring at him intensely. “Because I barely ever go into his room.” Virgil slumps. “Listen, Virgil, the concern is appreciated, and I support you continuing to collect evidence on this matter, however, it sounds like he’s trying something new out. I have no reason yet to be concerned.”

“Okay, whatever.” He gets up from his chair. “I hope you feel better, nerd. Catch you later.” He salutes, and just sinks out.

Logan continues to stare at where Virgil once was, thoughts jittering. Is Roman really acting that strange? He almost sounds like he’s trying to become Patton. Maybe he’s looking to renew his look for Thomas? He had been rather heart-broken when he misinterpreted Thomas calling him his hero. He also likes costume changes. Maybe he’s preparing something.

Logan hopes that Roman will be alright in the end. And that he himself will be as well. He takes a deep breath. He can do this.

~~~

Taglist: @crossiantgay

#logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts logan #sanders sides #whoops i forgot to add the read more #5 Reasons fic #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #logince fic #tw food #tw injuries #oliver writes

12 notes · View notes

candied-peach · 4 years

Text

ao3: “paint it red” rating: T warnings: autistic remus, autistic logan, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, anxceitmus genre: fluff description: Virgil paints everyone’s nails. (for anon prompt: "Imagine your virgil who paints nails fic (I think it was anxceit) but virgil going around painting everyone's nails red to support an autistic side (which is up to you)")

"Remus," Virgil says, half-laughing as he carries his nail polish kit into the kitchen. "You have to sit down if you want me to paint your nails." His boyfriend looks up, red spreading across his cheeks, as he plops obediently into a kitchen chair. Deceit's already pulled up a chair, gloves neatly folded in his lap. His hands are demurely clasped, and Virgil can tell he's nervous about showing the scales dotted across his skin.

"We're gonna paint 'em red, right?" Remus asks, dragging Virgil's attention back to him. "Red like blood splattered on the road after an accident?"

"Yes," Virgil assures him. "No blue, no puzzle pieces, just red and anything else you want to add."

"A knife!" Remus says brightly. Virgil blinks.

"Why a knife?" He asks. Remus grins, his teeth looking pointier than ever.

"Virgil, love, are you sure you want that answer?" Deceit asks. Virgil laughs, his shoulders jerking in a lopsided shrug.

"Does it involve violence against supporters of Autism Speaks?" Virgil asks. Remus nods eagerly. Virgil ponders for a moment. "Eh, sure, I can try to draw a knife on one of your nails," he decides.

"Did someone say nail painting?" Roman's voice drifts into the kitchen, seconds before the rest of him appears.

"I'm painting Remus's and Dee's nails red for autism acceptance," Virgil explains. "You want in?"

"Do I!" Roman exclaims. "I'm sure the others would like it, as well."

"Even Logan?" Virgil asks skeptically. Roman nods.

"Nail polish isn't a bad texture," he says. "And the smell goes away pretty fast. I'll be right back." He clatters up the stairs, leaving the kitchen in relative peace.

"Well, I'll get started with you," Virgil tells Remus. "Let me see your nails, babe." Remus obediently splays both hands on the table. His nails are slightly ragged, but still more than adequate for Virgil's purpose.

"Creme polish or holographic?" He asks, holding up two bottles. Remus chose holographic without hesitation, a decision Virgil thought would be repeated, judging by the appreciative glances Deceit kept flicking his way.

"Try to stay still," he warns Remus. "You can jiggle your legs if you need to, but try to keep your hands still, so I can paint them. Is that okay?"

"Yeah!" Remus says. Virgil can already feel his right leg bouncing but true to his words, his hands remain steady as Virgil begins to apply the first coat. He's finished one hand and is working on the other by the time Roman enters the kitchen again, Patton and Logan in tow. Patton keeps bouncing on his toes, playing with his cardigan.

"Oooh, pretty!" Patton exclaims. "It's all glittery!"

"It's holographic," Virgil says absently. "Do you all want your nails painted red, too? It's for autism acceptance." A chorus of yeses answer him. He smiles as he finishes the last nail, blowing lightly on it.

"Thanks to the mind palace, they're already dry," he says. "So I can draw the knife now."

"Knife?" Patton questions, sounding alarmed. Virgil laughs.

"Chill, Pop Star," he says. "It's just some nail art." He chooses Remus's thumbnail, since it has the greatest surface area, and manages a silver knife, only slightly lopsided. Remus peers down at it and grins, happy flapping his hands in the air.

"I love it!" He squeals. Virgil beams, looking around the slightly crowded kitchen. He also notices that Logan has swapped his usual tie for a red striped one. When Logan notices his gaze upon him, a faint blush climbs up his neck.

"Good," Virgil says. "Now, who's next?"

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @bexxbeauty @yalltookmyurlideas @ambersky0319 @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @matthindavick @killjoy-3000 @littlestliu

756 notes · View notes

hottestthingalive · 4 years

Text

a storm in your eyes (lightning and dark skies)

It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form.

His best friend.

Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.

(He’s pretty sure that if Virgil could hear his thoughts, and if, y’know, Virgil wasn’t the person in question, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Oh my god, they were roommates.” The idea nearly makes him laugh.)

–

Notes: Thank you so much to @snek-snacc, @smileyzs, @confused-sunflower, @xaimelarks, and all my other followers for putting up with me ranting about this story, and helping me edit. Y’all are the best!

Edit: After publishing this, I got this AMAZING piece of art from @ent-is-undecisive / @birdsongisland! Go check them out, because they’re insanely talented, and looking at this piece makes me so so so happy!

Two sequels also exist for this now!

waffles and wedding vows (promises and proof)

songs and stars and silence (of loving you)

Hope you enjoy!

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, background romantic Royaliceit, background romantic Intrusleep/rem^2, platonic drlamper

Words: 6885

Ao3

–

Logan Sanders falls in love with a thunderstorm.

Well, not a thunderstorm, exactly. As far as Logan knows (and he knows quite a lot), a tempest, no matter how powerful, cannot take the form of a human.

Still, the first time the boy with a hurricane’s eyes enters Mugnificent (the coffee shop Logan very reluctantly works at), he swears the smell of ozone fills the air.

His name is Virgil Foley, and he sweeps into Logan’s life like a summer storm, filling it with wind and chaos and unmatched wild beauty.

The first time they meet, it is 5:26 in the morning, and he’s considering revolt. Yes, he needs this job to supplement his scholarship, but being up this early is awful enough to warrant mutiny. Besides, customers are few this early in the day, and thus the tip jar is woefully empty.

The door opens with a ding

(there is a smell like lightning)

and in walks a person with dark hair tied in a bun under a black beanie, rummaging around in their backpack. Their bag is covered in pins, and Logan notes a rainbow one near the center.

“Hey,” they say, and he meets eyes the color of stormclouds, a grey bordering on purple and blue simultaneously. “Can I just get a small coffee, please? Black is fine.”

“Yeah,” Logan nods. “Name?”

They glance around the empty Mugnificent with a raised eyebrow, but reply with “Virgil,” anyways.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” says Logan, and he’s not normally one for small talk, but he also is sleep-deprived, and too tired to have any sort of filter. “I’m Logan.”

Virgil relaxes, and they hold out a hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, too. I use he/him pronouns, by the way.”

“Ah, yes,” Logan nods, returning the handshake. “He/him for me, as well, thank you.”

Virgil pays and waits by the counter as Logan goes to prepare the coffee, scrolling through his phone. There is a comfortable silence as he makes the drink, which Logan spends mentally cursing out Roman, his coworker who was supposed to arrive for work thirty minutes ago. “Here,” he says finally, holding out the cup for Virgil to take.

“Thanks.” Virgil is wearing fingerless gloves, and his nails are painted a bright purple. They shine in the fluorescent lighting. “Have a nice day, Logan.”

“You too,” he replies, and it seems too little. Logan doesn’t believe in magic, or gods, or destiny, but as he watches Virgil turn, about to walk out the door, something twangs in his chest. Despite himself, Logan opens his mouth, searching for something to say, anything that will make him stay.

He blinks, about to speak, and Virgil is gone.

A few minutes later, it begins to rain.

–

The second time he meets Virgil, it is in his psych class.

Logan has always liked psychology. It’s fascinating how the human brain works, he thinks, and even if he isn’t always so good at understanding emotions, he’s quite good at the science behind them. His appreciation for said science is the only reason he signs up for the class at all, when it has practically nothing to do with his astrophysics major.

He’s just about forgotten about the boy with eyes of a storm by the time he sits down for the first psychology class of the semester, pulling his computer and textbooks out of his own bag, and setting them before him. Logan cracks the knuckles on each hand individually, a nervous habit he’s had since he was in high school. He’s done his best to break it, but he supposes, as annoying as it is, it’s better than some of the alternatives.

Case in point, the boy from Mugnificent, who walks into the room nervously tapping his thigh while chewing at his lip. There’s a split in it, one that shines a bright red against the chapped surface, and Logan wants to wince just looking at it.

His eyes flash with recognition as he spots Logan in one of the back rows, and he pauses. “Logan, right? From the coffee place.”

“And you’re Virgil,” Logan smiles, and okay, maybe he hadn’t forgotten Virgil so much as attempted to forget him.

“Can I sit there?” he asks, nodding to the seat beside Logan.

It turns out Virgil is smart, and funny, and just a little bit snarky, and a English major minoring in psychology. He’s got all kinds of nervous habits, chewing on his lip and tapping out rhythms known only to him and drawing on every available surface, and Logan often notices a tendril of ink wrapping around one of his fingers from under his gloves.

They become fast friends, him and Virgil, bonding over a love for space and science and poetry. He starts coming to Mugnificent for coffee more often, and Roman teases Logan incessantly about it.

“You’re finally making friends!” he pretends to sob, throwing his arms around him, and he has to shove Roman away, rolling his eyes. Virgil is stifling a laugh behind one gloved hand, and Logan mouths “Traitor,” at him, though he isn’t really mad at all.

They fall into patterns -- psych and history and statistics together, always seated side by side, sometimes accompanied by Roman or Patton or Remus or Janus or any one of their expanding circle of friends. The two of them buy each other coffee, edit essays, go out for junk food (that Logan complains about but secretly loves) with their friends.

Virgil begs to paint Logan’s nails one night as they watch documentaries together in Patton and Virgil’s dorm room. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly as he focuses on the tiny white dots he’s adding, and Logan ends up loving the night sky that graces his fingers. In return, Logan styles Virgil’s long hair into a crown of braids.

“Your Majesty,” he bows as he leads Virgil to the mirror.

“If I’m royalty now, I demand a feast to celebrate,” Virgil grins, admiring his hair. “Sir Logan, this calls for pizza!”

“All the junk food you consume is going to kill you one day,” Logan sighs, but he’s already dialing their favorite pizza place.

They eat dinner seated on the floor, holding paper plates and drinking soda as they watch Cosmos. Patton returns to the dorm a few minutes later, accompanied by Janus and Roman both, and snags some of the pizza for himself – luckily, they’d thought to order extra, as soon Remus, Remy, and Emile all show up, too, crowding into the dorm room and around Logan’s laptop. The documentary is switched to Big Hero 6, Virgil showing off his hair and Logan his nails as the others admire them. Soon Virgil is breaking out his nail polish again, painting delicate puppies on Patton’s fingers, and Logan is teaching Roman how to do the same hairstyle on Emile’s curls.

It’s a Saturday night, so they feel comfortable all crashing in Patton and Virgil’s room, squeezing far too many young adults into one small space. Emile giggles that it reminds them of sleepovers they went to when they were in elementary school, and Remus points out that they ought to play Truth or Dare with a manic grin. Virgil quickly puts a stop to that, however, distracting Remus with conspiracy theories and carving marshmallows to look like Lovecraftian monsters, and Logan wants to laugh because Virgil is very much a mom friend, despite his protests to the contrary. Still, as he sips hot cocoa with a marshmallow Cthulhu staring up at him from the mug, he has to admit it was a good idea. They all get into the fun, carving marshmallows with whatever cutlery Patton and Virgil have in their room, and eventually Monster Mallows will become a tradition for all of their friend group.

When he falls asleep that night, lying on the floor in the blanket fort Patton and Roman had insisted on building, he dreams of rain and lightning, across dark skies that resemble Virgil’s eyes.

–

Logan realizes Virgil is his best friend in the middle of winter, when he shows up at Mugnificent at the end of his shift, ordering two coffees and taking them as Logan gets ready to leave. “Sorry, Roman,” Virgil says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all as he hands Logan one of the drinks and reaches out to hold his other hand. “C’mon, L, we’ve got to hurry if we’re going to get there in time.”

“Where are we going?” Logan raises an eyebrow, throwing on his coat and waving goodbye to Roman (who is saying something dramatic about a grievous betrayal) as he sips at the coffee. It’s perfect, his order exactly.

“Look!” Virgil grins as they leave the coffee shop, and it’s snowing, white flakes falling around them and coating the ground. Some of the cars nearby are already covered in it. “C’mon, we’ve got to get to the park.”

“Wait, why?” he asks. “Virgil, this looks rather like the makings of a blizzard. We should probably go back to our dorms so we can prepare if we get snowed in.”

“I know it’s a snowstorm,” Virgil rolls his eyes, and his stormy eyes are bluer than Logan’s ever seen them, shining with excitement. “Now, let’s go!”

Logan should probably argue more, but he’s laughing as he gets pulled along, the two half-running towards the park.

They slow down at the top of a hill already lightly coated with snow, and Virgil reaches into his bag to pull out a picnic blanket. “No,” Logan protests, but he’s cackling as Virgil yells “Snow picnic!” and spreads it over the snow.

“This is going to turn into a blizzard,” he manages to say, stifling his giggles. “We are going to be buried alive because you wanted to have a picnic in a snowstorm.”

“Oh, shush,” Virgil grins, flopping down onto the blanket and digging into his bag again to retrieve two bagels wrapped in tinfoil. “Drink your coffee and watch the snow with me, Logan Sanders.”

The bagel he hands Logan has Crofters jam instead of cream cheese spread across it, still warm from toasting, and Logan could kiss Virgil if they weren’t very platonic…

Well, it feels like they are a whole lot more than friends, at this point. There’s something about their relationship that feels different from the ones Logan has with their other companions, be it Remus or Emile, Patton or Janus, Roman or Remy.

Are they best friends?

He asks, and Virgil merely grins and says “I hope so.”

It’s amazing, lying there as they watch the sky, munching on bagels and sipping at their coffee and pointing out oddly shaped clouds. Virgil is practically covered in snowflakes by the time they have to leave, the wind picking up too much to stay, and Logan is no better. Still, he thinks it was worth it, even when he gets a cold and has to spend the weekend curled up in blankets, sneezing and coughing as he works on his essay for his cosmology class. Virgil gets a cold, too, and they end up on the phone together as they work, Virgil blasting music on his end and Logan parroting his roommate’s consistent reminders to take medicine, and drink some water!

Emile seems to think it’s cute, for some reason, and they tell Logan to say hi to Virgil for them, a smile playing on their lips that he’s too sick to interpret.

–

Logan has a crush on a boy in their shared statistics class by March, the one who sits three rows in front of him and two seats to the right, who has green hair and a cheerful grin. Virgil listens patiently about it whenever Logan brings it up, and when they have to pair up for a final project, he pushes him towards his crush, joining Remus instead.

He finds out his crush already has a romantic partner in a strictly monogamous relationship when they’re nearly done with the project, and Virgil shows up to Logan’s dorm room with ice cream and his laptop that night, pulling aside Emile as he comes in and whispering something to him. Emile leaves shortly after, and the two of them are alone.

“What did you tell Emile?” Logan asks later, when they’re sitting on his bed and watching trashy teenage romcoms, because, according to Virgil, “This way, you won’t associate any good movies with this.”

“Well, Patton invited him for a ‘sleepover,’” Virgil says, eating directly from the carton of chocolate ice cream, gaze shifting from the screen to Logan. “Did the moment he saw your text on the groupchat.”

Logan had texted that his crush has a partner when Roman had begun teasing him about it on said chat. Looking back, it may not have been the best of decisions, but all he wants to do right now is curl into the comforter and watch bad movies, while simultaneously eating unholy amounts of ice cream.

“It’s not a big deal,” he protests, pulling the blankets closer around him.

“Listen, L, you’re sad ‘cause the boy you like… well, you know. Anyways, you being sad is a big deal, at least to us.” Virgil isn’t wearing his normal clothes, only a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt (Logan knows he ran over in his nightwear, which makes him feel worse), so he can see the ink covering his hands, smudged in places.

“Why do you draw on yourself so much?” He leans over to look at the patterns of spirals winding their way up Virgil’s arms, tracing them with one finger. “That much ink can’t be good for your skin, pretty as it is, Vee.”

Virgil bats his hand away, blushing behind his curtains of dark hair, and Logan laughs. “It’s just a nervous habit, okay?” he exclaims, and Logan pokes his cheek, cooing.

“Aw, lookit you,” he smiles, and even though Logan’s heart hurts from what happened with his crush, he doesn’t think he would trade anything for his friendship with Virgil Foley. “So cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Virgil grumbles, pressing play on the computer. “Watch the shitty movie and shush, nerd.”

He gets over the boy from statistics eventually, and gets an A on the project, which Roman insists they celebrate with breakfast at Logan’s favorite diner on campus. (Logan’s pretty sure Roman just feels guilty about teasing him about it, but he goes anyways, pulling his friend aside later to tell him it’s fine.)

–

They return from summer vacation changed. Janus, Patton, and Roman are dating now, for one thing, and it’s disgustingly sappy. Emile comes out as asexual and aromantic a few days after they get back, and Logan helps them hang flags in their dorm room when they arrive a week later. Remy has switched majors, from biology to culinary classes, and Remus tells them excitedly that he’s managed to start a rather popular horror comic online. (Logan reads it, and learns Remus is quite adept at art, writing, and scaring the crap out of him. He never looks at door knobs the same way again.) Virgil, meanwhile, has started wearing far less baggy clothes and more makeup – in other words, people around campus start realizing that Virgil is actually hot, and not just a relatively cute bundle of sweatshirts.

Logan kind of feels weird about it. He knows how aesthetically pleasing Virgil is, of course – they’ve spent enough time together for him to have figured that out – but… well, Logan had realized while he was away how much he’d missed Virgil, even more so than his other friends. He tells himself it is because of how close they are, and ignores the ugly anger in his chest when people flirt with Virgil, or how his heart pounds and face flushes when they curl up to watch movies these days.

As for him, well, he’s dyed his hair a dark blue, a color so dark it’s almost black. Roman marvels over it, asking how he managed to not damage his hair in the process, and Logan doesn’t feel like telling him that he had meant to do a brighter shade, but hadn’t realized how hard it would be to get proper color without bleaching his normal dark hair. He does end up telling Virgil later, though, when Remy and Patton drag them and the rest of their friends to a party.

For the record, Logan tended to avoid such events. He didn’t see the point, firstly – he’d never been a fan of crowds, especially not ones where everyone was drunk off their asses, and he generally had too much work to do to bother with parties. Secondly, he simply didn’t care enough to look nice for such a thing, or to go at all. Logan would much rather spend time with his friends if he had to be up in the middle of the night, whether haunting the 24/7 diner a few miles off campus or playing stupid games in the woods or making fun of Disney movies while throwing popcorn at the screen and shushing each other so they didn’t get noise complaints.

But then there were Patton and Remy, social creatures who liked seeing other people and didn’t mind getting wasted to do so. Roman and Janus typically followed Patton wherever he went, so they were a given, and Remus had developed a raging crush on Remy by then, so he’d probably have tagged along even if Remy hadn’t grabbed his hand and said “You’ll come, right, Ree?” with a grin.

Well, Remus was lost to them after that, and that left Emile, Logan, and Virgil alone.

Which would have been fine! Except then Virgil had got dragged in by Patton (a difficulty of being his roommate, according to Logan’s best friend, was that Patton was very, very persuasive when he wanted to be) and Virgil had begged Logan to come for “Introvert solidarity, L! Introvert solidarity!”

Then Emile had sighed, said something about being the only responsible one, and appointed themself designated driver. So Logan didn’t even have that excuse to pull himself and Virgil out of it early.

He finds himself on a couch in someone’s house, sitting besides Virgil. Janus tells him that it is owned by someone who goes to their college but lives nearby, a summer home belonging to their parents or something. Janus says ze aren’t sure who the actual host is, and ze run off to go find Roman or Patton before Logan can ask why all of them are attending a party hosted by someone they don’t know.

Virgil has obviously already had something to drink, or he’s insanely sleep-deprived, as he has started playing with Logan’s hair. Logan’s willing to bet on the former (although knowing Virgil, he can’t be sure – he has an awful sleep schedule) especially since he’s never known the other to be so touchy, even when tired.

“How’d you get it like this?” Virgil asks, running his fingers through Logan’s curls. He’s perched on top of the couch, and though he would normally be concerned that Virgil might fall, Logan is just glad he doesn’t have to bend over so his friend can examine his hair.

He tells Virgil, and can’t help but smile as he laughs, perhaps a little more than the story warrants. They sit there in peace for a few minutes, Virgil humming along with any song he recognizes and Logan scanning the room for any of their friends.

“Your hair is so pretty,” Virgil eventually says, and Logan is surprised he can hear him at all over the noise of the music and other people. He slides down from the couch to sit beside him, reaching up to poke Logan’s cheek. “You’re pretty. You know that, right? You’re real, real pretty.”

“Aw,” Logan grins, hoping the dim lights and Virgil’s addled brain will hide his red cheeks. “What is it you say? Oh, right; you think I’m warm.”

“No, dummy, I think you’re hot,” Virgil sighs. “Get it right.”

“Why, thank you.”

“‘Course. You’re my best friend, Logan Sanders.”

“Same,” he replies, dodging Virgil’s attempt to flick him as he scans the room. “Have you seen Remy or Remus around recently?”

“Oh, they’ve been making out in that closet over there,” Virgil says offhandedly, pointing, and Logan nearly chokes. “You didn’t know? They’re so obvious, Remy’s been whining about it to me for weeks. ‘Oh, Virgil, I’m doomed to be alone forever!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, Remus is so hot, and I’m going to whine about it to you for hours!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, I have a crush on a trash rat man and I won’t stop talking about it ever!’”

“Did Remy actually call Remus a ‘trash rat man’?” he snickers, turning to look at Virgil, who is wringing his hands in mock despair as he imitates Remy.

“No,” Virgil pouts. “Wish he had. Remus would love that.”

“He would,” Logan agrees, rolling his eyes fondly. “Hey, do you want to leave?”

“Why, Logan Perfect-Hair Sanders, are you asking me to ditch a party with you?” he laughs.

“That isn’t my middle name and you know it.” Logan shoots off a text to Emile, standing and turning to grab Virgil’s hand, pulling him upright. “But sure. Will you, Virgil Emo-Nightmare Foley, ditch this absurd party with me?”

“Logan, I thought you’d never ask,” Virgil smirks. “Let’s bounce!”

They get lucky – Logan hasn’t had anything to drink, and due to how large their group is, Virgil had had to drive over Patton, Janus, Roman, and himself earlier. Virgil hands him the keys to the car, and Logan drives them to the nearby McDonalds, where they order fries and milkshakes. “Let’s go somewhere high,” Virgil says when they return to the car, grinning, and Logan obliges, driving them to his favorite stargazing spot near campus, partway up a mountain in a parking lot for an old playground.

Soon, he finds himself sitting on the hood of Virgil’s car, dipping his fries in a chocolate shake as the two of them stare up at the stars and the moon, pointing out constellations. “Look,” giggles Virgil, his head on Logan’s shoulder as he traces lines between stars. “It’s the glasses one!”

“There is no ‘glasses’ constellation, Virgil,” he points out, but the path his friend is etching into the sky does look rather like a pair of glasses.

“Well, there is now,” replies the other. “It’s your constellation! You deserve one, y’know, ‘cause you’re pretty, and smart, and nice, and funny, and you’re just the best, Lo, okay?”

“How much did you have to drink, exactly?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow, and his friend punches him in the arm, lightly. “Ow!”

“I’m telling the truth,” Virgil rolls his eyes, pulling the blankets they’d retrieved from the trunk closer around the two of them. “You deserve a constellation. You deserve the universe.”

“Well, now we have to find you a constellation, too,” he muses, ignoring the heat in his cheeks (he seems to be blushing quite a lot lately, talking to Virgil) as he searches the sky. It takes a few minutes, and Virgil is half-asleep on his shoulder by the time he makes his choice, but finally Logan says “I found it.”

“Well, lemme see,” Virgil mumbles, opening his eyes.

He traces lines between a series of stars. “It’s a cloud,” he explains, “and a lightning bolt. Because you’re a thunderstorm, V.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” He’s biting his lip, suddenly subdued, and Logan feels a surge of guilt, because no one should ever make Virgil look like that, anxious and hurt and scared all at once.

“No,” he answers, fiercely enough that Virgil jumps slightly. “You’re wild, and chaotic, and occasionally a bit destructive, but you also make people feel alive. You bring rain to help things live, you bring the sound of a storm and the beauty of lightning, you simultaneously wake me up and help me sleep. You are beautiful, and inspiring, and so amazingly you, and the best friend I could ever ask for.”

“...And I thought I was the English major,” Virgil says quietly, and his face is bright red. “You have no right to be better at words than me, Sanders.”

“Well, Foley, I’m the astrophysics major, and you’re the one who started making constellations, so turnabout’s fair play,” Logan replies, and Virgil lets out a laugh at that.

Later, when the fries and milkshakes are both gone, they get back into the car and drive back to their dorms. For Logan’s birthday that year, a month or so later, Virgil presents him with a painting of the glasses constellation. He’d commissioned Remus, he explains, staring at his feet, and Logan tells him he loves it. For Virgil’s birthday, he gets a similar art piece from Roman, of the stars making a storm, and Virgil pulls him into a tight hug.

For now, though, the two of them simply sit and gaze into space.

–

Logan goes on a few dates with someone he meets at the coffee shop, named Andy. They become boyfriends. Virgil teases him about it whenever he brings it up, and eventually he stops talking about his partner to his best friend. The two of them start to pull apart, their friendship strained.

When Logan and Andy separate, Virgil is dating a girl he’s only met a few times, who shares Virgil’s English classes and wears colorful barrettes to hold back her curls.

He hadn’t even known Virgil liked her.

–

College passes by quickly. They graduate, and Logan tumbles into a job at a rather prestigious observatory. He lives in a small apartment in the city nearby, buys coffee from the Starbucks across the street every morning, settles into a routine.

Gradually, they all start to fall out of touch. It sucks, but things have been off between Virgil and him ever since Logan had dated Andy Michaels, and at the moment Logan sees his ex-boyfriend more than his ex-best friend. Their relationship had ended amicably, but still – he misses Virgil Foley, more than he’d ever like to admit.

A year or so later, Logan receives the invitation to Remy and Remus’ wedding.

It is in the fall, and Logan isn’t surprised in the least that they plan to have it in a forest, if only because he knows that the odds of Remus wanting the guests to jump into leap piles with him are absurdly high. At least they’re at an actual wedding site, so they can be inside if needed – Logan half expected, when he found out they’d gotten engaged, for them to drag a bunch of guests to a Starbucks for the event.

What does surprise Logan is the fact that Remus has apparently sent it early, because Logan is going to be one of the wedding party attendants.

He calls Remus and Remy that night, certain they’ve mixed up things, but Remy simply laughs. “Logan, you’re still one of our best friends,” he says. “Come on, please?”

“Besides,” Remus adds, “Virge will be one too, and Patton and Roman and Jan and Emile! You can’t break up the team!”

He ends up agreeing, and no matter how much Remy teases him about it later, it was not just to see Virgil again.

The wedding rolls around. Logan has managed to avoid speaking to Virgil for more than a friendly greeting and a bit of small talk through all the preparations the two of them had had to attend, but the they both arrive early on the day of, and Logan doesn’t know anybody else, and, well, he does miss Virgil.

“Hey,” he says. Virgil is nearly as tall as him in the heels he’s wearing (Logan had managed to opt out of them, convincing Remus to let him wear flats with his dress), and his green dress offsets his stormy eyes perfectly. Logan doesn’t think he looks nearly as good in the color, but he’d decided not to argue with Remy’s puppy-dog eyes. Besides, he much prefers the dress to the suits Emile and Patton had opted for.

“Hi, Logan,” Virgil replies. The tension in the air is palpable, and Logan hates it. “How’ve you been lately?”

“I’m good,” he answers.

“Oh, good,” nods Virgil. He’s gnawing at his lip again, and Logan can see the split in it even through the lipstick. “Me too.”

“I miss you,” Logan says suddenly, because he does. “You were my best friend, and I hate not being close, because you are one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“...I miss you too.” He smooths his dress, looking out the window at the trees, and then laughs. “I’m surprised they didn’t have their wedding in a Starbucks, honestly.”

Logan can’t help but chuckle at that, especially when he spots Remy breezing past them, a coffee cup in hand and makeup only half-done, frantically trying to catch his little brothers and sister, whom he and Remus had appointed flower children. “I thought the same thing,” he admits.

It’s easy for the two of them to talk, after that, sharing jokes and telling stories and talking about their new lives. Logan feels oddly happy when he learns Virgil is single, and when he mentions how he’s looking for a roommate and Virgil remarks that he is too, it feels as natural as breathing to ask where he’s currently living. Finding out they live in the same city makes Logan feel strangely elated.

“Help!” Remus exclaims, skidding to a stop in front of them, collapsing into Virgil’s arms and only barely being caught. “I’ve lost my husband-to-be!”

“Alright, please calm down,” Logan says, exchanging exasperated looks with Virgil, who pulls Remus back to his feet. “Have you actually lost Remy, or are you just being overly dramatic?”

“He has been stolen from me,” Remus whines. “We were kissing, and then he was dragged away by my evil brother!”

“By any chance, was he dragged away to prepare for your wedding? The event we’re attending, so you two can get married? The one that most guests are expected to arrive for in fifteen minutes?” Virgil crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed.

Remus’ eyes widen. “Fifteen minutes?” he asks, checking Logan’s watch, and groans. “Oh, drumsticks. Drumsticks torn right off a chicken. Bloody chicken legs everywhere.”

He darts off, and Logan and Virgil sigh simultaneously.

“We should go help, shouldn’t we?” Virgil asks, and Logan nods reluctantly. “Well, it was great to talk to you.”

“It was pleasant to speak with you, as well,” he agrees.

As he turns to go find Patton, Virgil grabs his arm. “Hey, L, save me a dance, okay?”

They do indeed dance together that night, after they watch Remy and Remus get married among the colorful leaves, and talk, and laugh, and by the end of the wedding they are good friends again.

Virgil and Logan move in together by the end of November.

–

They become surprisingly domestic, the two of them, moving into their large apartment that is close to both Logan’s job at the observatory and Virgil’s work at a publishing company. He’s not surprised Virgil has become an editor (he was always the best at it, when they exchanged essays to review), but he is rather impressed when he notes some of the books in Virgil’s room have his full name on the cover. “I write poetry, mostly,” he explains when Logan asks. “It’s… I used to use it like therapy, I guess, and I got some of it published. I’m not famous or anything.”

“That’s amazing,” Logan says sincerely.

The poetry becomes important, later, but then, it is simply something for Logan to admire, another flash of beautiful lightning in Virgil’s storm.

Saturdays become movie nights, and they order junk food and make popcorn and watch documentaries or horror movies or cartoons together. Occasionally, some of their friends will join them, and every so often, all eight of them cram into Logan and Virgil’s living room. Despite his love for the others, however, Logan’s favorite nights are usually the ones when the two of them are alone, when they curl up together on the couch and make fun of trashy films or contribute their own knowledge to documentaries or sing along quietly to Disney. It is peaceful and lovely and utterly perfect.

Logan doesn’t mean to fall in love with Virgil. It sneaks up on him, mornings of coffee for him and tea for Virgil and memes shared over breakfast, afternoons texting each other with reminders to get groceries and news from the office, nights of cooking together and dancing to the radio.

One day, when both of them have work off, Virgil pulls him out of bed, waits impatiently while Logan gets dressed, and drags him outside into a storm. They walk through the park together, enjoying the rain on their skin, both of them jumping into puddles and belting the title number of Singing in the Rain and getting utterly soaked.

They return home for cocoa, each taking a warm shower and then sitting together on the couch to watch old movies with small white krakens bobbing in their cups. It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form.

His best friend.

Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.

Logan tries to get over his crush (and there’s no other word for it, as juvenile as it sounds). He really does. But it’s so hard, now that he knows it exists, especially when he has to see Virgil every single day. And he can’t just cut himself off, or leave their apartment, because that might ruin their friendship, and that’s the whole reason he’s trying to escape his feelings, because he loves being Virgil’s friend more than anything.

So he exists in this inbetween state, thrashing in the eyewall of a storm, so close to safety and danger simultaneously, trapped in chaos and uncertainty.

Logan isn’t quite sure whether he really wants to return to the eye, blissful quiet and the peace of oblivion, or if he can at all. But he thinks entering the storm itself, the danger of telling Virgil how he feels, the potential for a life with him, is equally impossible.

Eventually he decides that it is best to just ignore his rebellious feelings. It works, sort of – Virgil doesn’t seem to notice anything different, and Logan gets to keep his best friend. Still, every moment together is tinged with a sort of bittersweet sadness, the dancing in the kitchen and cuddling on the couch and meals together a harsh reminder that they are just friends.

He’s not sure exactly how his other friends figure it out, but they do, judging from how Remy and Janus tell him exasperatedly that he really ought to say something to Virgil, how Patton and Roman tell him how cute they would be together, how Remus does his best to shove Logan towards Virgil at any opportunity, how Emile tells him pointedly that repressing his feelings isn’t exactly healthy. Logan does decide that he’ll confess… eventually.

The problem with eventually, however, is how ambiguous it is. The others have realized as much, evidently, but they don’t force Logan to say something, or tell Virgil themselves, and he appreciates that.

It is a Saturday when eventually finally comes, a peaceful movie night interrupted by a phone call with Roman’s name flashing on the screen. He holds up a finger over his lips as he accepts the call, grimacing apologetically to Virgil as he steps into his own room. “What do you want?” he asks exasperatedly when he picks it up, and winces as the other line fills with noise.

“Logan, have you read Virgil’s latest book?” Roman practically screams, and in the background Logan can hear Patton squealing with excitement as Janus shushes them both.

He frowns, closing the door to his bedroom. “I wasn’t aware he’d been working on one.” Normally, Logan knows whenever Virgil is working on another collection of his poetry – he’s often the first person Virgil hands it to for editing.

“Get on your computer this instant, Pocket Protector,” says Roman, and Logan can hear his grin.

A quick search confirms it; a new book of poetry, just released by Virgil Foley. The revelation is almost painful (does Virgil not trust him anymore? Not like him?) until Janus’ voice comes over the line, hir voice sarcastic and concerned altogether.

“Way to go, love, he’s definitely not overthinking this,” ze sigh. “Logan, listen to me. I need you to go look at some of the reviews for the book, okay? Actually, no, if you can find a sample online, go read that.”

He’s operating in a haze, a robot in human flesh, and what do robots do but obey orders?

Logan barely understands what he’s reading at first, lines of poetry in the sample flashing past him. He checks the reviews, words of praise and admiration flowing through his mind, and it takes a second before he understands any of it.

Clicking back to the online sample, he starts to recognize the story being told. It is a tale of late nights and hot drinks in the morning, of pining and fear of destroying a friendship older than love.

It is Logan’s story, told through another’s words, a voice speaking of a scholar of the stars, of glasses and storms, of hugs and hand-holding and a cute barista, a boy in psych class, a friendship repaired at another’s wedding, of admiration and hope and love. A love for someone seen not as a storm, but as stars, as the universe in human flesh.

Virgil is in love.

Virgil is in love with Logan.

“I’ll call you back,” he hears himself say, and drops his phone on his bed in his haste to get back to the living room.

“Logan?” Virgil’s voice pierce the haze of his thoughts, his eyes

(a storm, wild beauty)

shining with concern, and he sits up from where he’s lying on the couch. “You okay? What happened?”

There are many things he wants to say, questions and explanations and promises, but in the end, all he says is “Can I kiss you?”

“What?” He doesn’t expect Virgil to look quite so flustered, but then again, Logan did just storm into the room, looking desperate and probably a tad deranged, and ask to kiss his best friend.

“Roman told me about the new book,” Logan says first, and Virgil’s eyes widen even further, and he can sense the incoming apology, but he isn’t done, not yet. He begins to crack his knuckles, a habit he’d thought he’d finally lost, full to the brim with nervous energy. “I’ve read some of it, and as far as I can tell, you are romantically attracted to me. Which is good, because I also harbor such feelings for you, and have for about a year now. So. Can I kiss you?”

“Isn’t it ‘May I kiss you’?” Virgil grins, playing off his feelings with humor, as always. Logan opens his mouth to apologize as his world comes crashing down, because oh, he’s messed up, oh no, but then his best friend’s expression softens, and he whispers “Of course, Logan Sanders.”

“Thank you, Virgil Foley,” he says, and abandons the eyewall for the storm.

They don’t watch any more movies that night. The two of them kiss, and talk, and kiss some more, and Virgil grabs his author’s edition of the new book from his room, and they read it together on the couch.

The next morning, they sit with their coffee and tea and talk some more, about labels and boundaries and dreams. Their friends come over for movies the next Saturday, and Virgil and Logan hold hands as they tell them they are dating.

(Roman choking on the popcorn in his excitement almost makes up for the money Logan spots being exchanged between Emile, Remus, and Patton.)

Eventually, Virgil’s latest book will gain fame, and they will end up with quite a bit of money between the two of them, especially after Logan gets a promotion. Eventually, they will move to a larger house, one a bit outside the city, one where they will have two cats and a dog and a son named Thomas. Eventually, they will get married in the spring, and when it starts to rain as they say their vows, the two of them just laugh.

But that is eventually. In the now, Logan Sanders is in love. In the now, Virgil Foley is in love.

They are glasses and hoodies, poetry written and spoken, dancing in the kitchen and cuddles on the couch.

They are thunderstorms, and they are stars.

475 notes · View notes

kanene-yaaay · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday ~

Kanene’s note: DO YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IS TODAY? WEEEELLL, I sure hope so because I completely forgot ;-;. BUUUUUUT I REMEMBER VERY WELL THAT 4TH OF THIS SAME MONTH WAS @oliviaischillin1204 BIRTHDAY SOOOOO YAAAAAAY!!! Thank you so much for being such a lovely, wonderful, cool, amazing, sweet, crazy, fabulous person that I really look up to, Ollie! <33

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Ler!Patton and Lee!Logan with Lee!Logan. Around 4.000 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Como é um presente, essa fanfic não será traduzida! Sleep a bit more today, drink water, give something nice to yourself and I hope you’re having a really nice day (Especially you, Olivia!!) <33

[~*~]

Logan opened his eyes, quickly turning off his alarm before it had the chance to wake Patton up. He held his breath as he turned to the other, observing his chest go up and down peacefully on his sleeping. The most serious one sighed in relief, feeling the butterflies flying in his tum- no, none of that silly nickname – stomach as he remembered which day was today.

Today was his birthday, an annual event which he usually wouldn’t give more attention to than to thank everyone’s well wishes, give himself a whole jar of crofter’s jam and take the day off from his non-essential tasks.

At least… things used to be like that before he met Patton.

A persistent wobbly smile found its way to his lips, thinking about the tradition the cat lover began after a few years of friendship.

He firmly shook his head out of the memories, putting his glasses on and looking at the clock to confirm his thoughts. Yes, it was six AM. Perfect. This year Logan decided he was going to be resilient and in any circumstance he would fall into Patton’s attics. It didn’t matter what it was. He was a serious, determined, smart and strong adult. He could endure some silly, untrue teases.

Logan sat on the mattress, careful to not bother his partner, firmly ignoring the buzzing feeling on his nerves taking over his entire body. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it, every and any distractions being very welcomed from the recordations beginning to swirl in his brain.

Then, in a flash, a shock hit him in the moment his eyes locked themselves in the picture being used as his new phone’s background. A picture that was not there the night before. A picture of him. Of his completely red face, his lips parted in a gigantic smile, eyes firmly closed, hair falling on his expression as his hands gripped there, doing their best to not stop the hand which wormed its way to his unbuttoned shirt.

Real Logan pressed his hand over his mouth, suppressing a surprised yelp that for very little didn’t echo on the room. Only then he noticed the bright notification on his screen.

The one wearing glasses needed a whole minute to tear his gaze apart from the background, feeling the butterflies to get more and more restless as he read the name of who sent him a message the day before, at exactly 11:56.

[Patt-on/Patt-off: Happy birthday, Lo-lo! Prepared for your b-day surprise?~ :3c]

Suddenly two arms involved his waist, leading him to jump and to the touch get a bit firmer, -yet so gentle, - pulling his back to rest on a warm chest, a head resting on his shoulder and tickly, whispered sentences being spoken absurdly next to his so ticklish ear.

“I gotcha. ~” A series of goosebumps ran across his spine and Logan attempted to squirm to his freedom from the nuzzling and muffled words seeming to buzz and spread in every inch of his neck, sensation being not even a bit helped by the quick pokes and pinches on his sides, “I gotcha, gotcha, gotcha ya, my tickly ticklish little squeaky toy!! Oh, no, what he is going to do? Hm? What is he going to do to escape from the Tickle Monster?”

“P-pa-Patton!” His hands flew to hold the wrists of the one called, who just rested his lips in the spot that connected his neck with his shoulders and chuckled before humming innocently. “Please, please! I ask for you to reconsider! We’re both intelligent, rational adults and I am sure that there is an answer which will satisfy both of us!” Small, fast raspberries were placed in that same spot and Logan, living up to his nickname, squeaked at each one, shrugging his neck. “N-no! No, no, no! Patton!! Don’t!!”

“Do you want me to reconsider?”

“Yes, yes!”

“You want me to reconsider giving you your so craved birthday little tickle, tickle tickles?”

“Falsehood!!! I do not- I can’t- I didn’t-” Logan sputtered, the blush on his cheeks gradually increasing. “I do not crave them!! Ti-tickles are silly and don’t like them!”

He sensed Patton’s smile more than he saw it. Instantly things felt like he didn’t make a so clever choice with his wording. “Oh, you don’t? ~”

Logan denied, the wobbly smile yet plastered on his face.

“Okie! I will not tickle you then, Logie Bear, okay?” The one wearing a star themed pajama yelped when the wrists on his hold twisted their way to gently intertwine their fingers, pulling their hands the way up to behind Patton’s neck, keeping them there until Logan locked his own fingers together. This left his torso, - owner of multiple of his ticklish spots, - open, a tingling already starting to wander across them. He wiggled. “Oh, no, no. Don’t worry, dear!” Patton combed his hair, leading the other to instantly melt into the touch. “We’re going to just talk. A chat between friends! No tickling!” He rested, then, his hands on the other’s ribs, his tune filled with joy.

“But the moment your hands go down you better be prepared because I’m going to tickle tickle tickle you silly-silly for hours and hours and hours until we’re both satisfied, okay my precious Squeaky Toy?!”

Logan’s smile only grew wider, for a second his hands trembled behind the other’s neck.

“Okay?” Patton questioned playfully, yet drops of seriousness painting his ask.

The one with blushing crawling down his neck bit lightly his lower lip, his mumble barely audible. “Light tickles during the talk?”

Patton felt his heart melt with all the cuteness, losing his façade as the tips of his fingers ran softly up and down Logan’s ribs, resulting in the aforementioned to let go of silent snorts and titters, which led the cat lover to squeal, hugging him. “Of course, precious Giggle Bug! You’re just so, so adorable and cute making such a sweet wish like this!”

“I despise you and your falsehoods. I am not cute.”

“Now, now, now, Logie bear! It’s very rude of you to try to lie for the Tickle Monster because he might will have to try to convince you to say the whoooole truth!” He sing-sang, wiggling his fingers teasingly in front of Logan. “A truth that maybe sounds like ‘I, the smart Logan Sanders, am an adorable, incredibly, horribly tickly ticklish Squeaky Toy and I just looove receiving tickle, tickle, tickles from the Tickle Monster!”

“FALSHEHOOD! I am no-nothing of this!”

“Okay!” Patton exclaimed happily, his index fingers traveling to scratch the skin behind his ears, circling and drawing shapes on the shell before slowly making his way to Logan’s red neck, quickly going back to the first spot when the other futilely attempted to protect his target.

“Soooo,” Patton made his voice the most low and possible tickly way, one more time, “are you telling me that you’re not cute? Not at all? That all that lovely blushy-blush spreading and running on your neck and these little ticklish- ops! I mean sensitive ears here are not even a bit cute?” The stars lover shook his head, attempting to hide his face on his elbow but giving up in the moment Patton took the opportunity to place a trail of butterfly kisses on his unprotected neck, receiving a squeal as prize.

“Aww, cutiepants, was that a squeal? So adorable!” Logan denied again, controlling his urge to low his arms when the other rested the tip of his nails on the spot inside his elbows, softly wriggling, teasing the nerves there. “But I do wonder why, I mean, we’re just having a good talk here, aren’t we?” He dragged his scribbles and traced down to his biceps, “just having some fun time with your cool friend Patton! No reason at all for you to be sweetly squealing or blushing or squirming like a wiggly wiggley worm! Unless…”

“This tickle tickle tickle your funny bone!” Patton gasped, delivering a poke right on the center of Logan’s armpits and making his arms to shot half of the way down before their owner could stop himself, giggling non stop. “Arms up, my helpless ticklish grumpy baby!! You’re already doing so well. I know you can endure it just a bit more!”

Logan scoffed, taking some giggly filled seconds of silence before re-adjusting his arms where they were. “Of course, I can. As I previously pointed, I am not such a childish thing as ti-ticklish.” Patton tried to stop himself from laughing, ending up snorting. “Stop laughing, you heathen. It’s the truth.” Logan gave a squeeze on the cat lover's stomach. A rare and small playful smile playing on his lips as the other yelped holding his hands away.

“Sure, sure.” Patton booped his nose before guiding his hands to the other’s armpit, waiting patiently for his friend to lock his fingers behind his neck again. An idea popped on his mind, resulting in his smile to get wider. “Hey, lo-lo! What if we sing a song?” He bounced as the other whined a protest, wiggling around.

“No, no, don’t worry! I am sure you already know the lyrics! Look, Wiggley Worm, I will start and then you follow me, okay?” Patton then positioned two fingers on the tickle spot, hearing Logan’s breath hitch as he began to circle his pits, the squirming increasing.

“Round and round the tickly pit

Goes the Logie Bear-”

“That is not how the nursery rhymes goes!”

“No? Oh, dang! I was almost certain that I was right! If only someone clever, cool and with an amazing voice who knew how to sing it correctly would help me…” Loud sigh, feigned sad head shake, “guess I will have to repeat it again and again and again and again until I recall the correct lyrics…”

The cat lover paused, for a piece of minute only hysteric titters and warm smiles filling the air.

“Round, round the helpless pit,

Goes the Blushy Bear-”

“No!” Logan yelped, slightly jumping in the same place as he felt the fingers walking, scratching their way to the center of the spot. “I can-” the rest of his words came muffled as he one more time attempted to hide his burning face on his shoulder. Guffaws escaping as Patton took, again, the opportunity to nuzzle and kiss his bare neck, “Wait, wait! I will sing.”

The attacker’s face brightened right away, stopping his tickling. “Are you serious?! Would you do that for your old Tickle Monster?”

“Y-ye-yes.” He cleaned his throat, uselessly trying to get rid of the chortles already accumulating on his chest, the figurative butterflies flying everywhere on his belly. “Yes, Ihihi can.”

“Okay, then! Whenever you’re ready!”

Logan tried to take a deep breath, however his concentration was immediately broken when the tingling sensation spread like lights across his torso. “Stohohop wiggling them! I cahahan’t sing whehen you doho that!”

“Okay, okay, blushy bear. Gotcha!”

He closed his eyes, taking another wobbly breath and failing spectacularly as the feeling of the fingers resting peacefully, so oblivious on his so exposed tickle spot felt almost unbearable. “No, nohoho! Stop!”

“Logie Bear,” Patton grinned bigger, sensing his heart to expand even further as the one with stars painted on his pajamas squealed on his hold, “This time I’m really doing nothing.” Logan growled, refusing to answer.

“Round, round the gard-EN,

Li-hihihike a teddy bear…”

Logan began to kick lightly, his sentence being more and more subdued by the high pitched laughter with drops of snorts.

“One step,” One squeak.

“Two steps,” Two squeaks.

“Aaaaand?” The attacker asked, his fingers hovering, barely grazing the skin.

“Ahahahand,” the laugh cut his phrase, his kicking increasing its speed, “ahahahand,” Logan shook his head, his arms about to give up and clue on his sides. Face burning, squirming becoming more frequent.

“Tickleoverhere!!”

Patton attacked. His arms went immediately down, his head hitting Patton’s shoulder with the force of his full laughter.

“Yes, yes! There is! There is that beautiful, wonderful, amazing laughter of yours! And and and these little snorts!!” His caring, evil friend beamed, his voice full of excitement. “It’s just the adorablest and cutest and lovely-est thing!!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHA!”

A few minutes full of scribbling, poking and scratching passed before the cat lover ceased the tickling, giving him a break effectively used to take sips of oxygen. Logan’s muscles relaxing as Patton again combed calmly his hair strands, snuggling him close.

“You’re okay?”

“Yes,” a breathless giggled response, but a response nevertheless. He suspended his arms again. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re so cute, Giggle Bug! Now, now,” Patton hugged Logan, his arms crossed on the other’s chest, leaving almost no room for squirming while his hands tapped his fingers on the soft skin of his pudgy sides, “I heard someone here has very, veeery ticklish sides that the Tickle Monster would just love to tickle, tickle, tickle! But, I don’t see to find where that ticklish baby is…” He began to dig on the spot, properly ignoring the loud snort and frantic wiggling from the star lover.

“I mean, it can’t be you, right, Logie Bear? Because you” Patton made sure to focus his tweaking on a rather… susceptible tendon which connected his sides with his back, holding his smile as the crackles exploded from the one attacked, who immediately started bouncing in the same place, “just told me you aren’t sensitive! Not even an itsy bitsy wiggly wiggley cutesy ticklish at all, right?”

“P-pahahha-PAHAHATTON!”

“What is it, baby Squeaky Toy?”

“Ple-please!!”

“Please what? I don’t think I understand what you mean, Lo-lo. There is a crazy, cutie patootie being tickled somewhere near and it’s hard to hear you with all that beautiful laughter!”

“It TICKLES!! IT TIHIHIHICKLES!”

Gasp. “It does??” But that statement only served for the other to knead further on his sides, skillfully squeezing and digging on every weak spot on it. In an explosion of energy Logan broke free from the grip, losing his balance and half falling from the bed, his hands instinctively stopping himself before he could hit the floor while his legs and waist continued laid on the mattress.

“Oh, my gosh! Logan, are you okay??” His only answer was the reminiscent laughter growing in breathless giggles. “Logan?”

When the other nodded Patton finally let his façade crumble and drop, wheezing laughter taking over his senses as his mind replayed the fall, “Oh my God! Your face, Lo! Your face was just-” and his next sentences came out silenced when he pressed his face on Logan’s arched back, snickering.

On Logan’s lower back.

The one who had just stopped his giggles did his best to hide a squeak. The sensation of Patton laughing directly on his skin together with his hitching warm breath sending electric, tickly goose bumps through all his torso. The urge to squirm and escape growing louder as his friend didn’t stayed still, lifting his head from there only to stare Logan again and immediately fall in another wave of laughter, once more shoving his face on that spot next to his side or on his spine or way too much close of his hip. The idea that this time Patton wasn’t even really trying to tickle him making the heat on his face and the urge to laugh somewhat worse.

“Ah!! Patton, stop!”

“Sorry, sorry!! I can’t, I can’t! You just screamed and fell and I-” Patton snorted and the poor ticklish Squeaky Toy tried to move his arms in an angle where he would be able to push his friend’s face away, only to realize he couldn’t do much more than mindlessly swing his upper limbs. Fuck.

It took about two long, slow minutes of quiet huffing before for the one wearing cat onesie to calm himself, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes and bringing his focus to his friend, looking at least a bit apologetically, even if the other wasn’t able to properly see it due his position.

“Sorrey, bear. I forgot how ticklish you are on your sides.” His eyes then noticed Logan’s face, furrowing his brow, “are sure you’re okay? Your face is a bit red there, kiddo.”

“Ihi assure yohou I aham. Please help mehe to get up.” Patton quickly nodded, an adoring gaze sprouting on his expression as he heard the other’s giggles, but decided to not point out, instead choosing to pat his back lightly in a reassuring touch and immediately pulling his hand when Logan jumped at his touch.

“Get away from my back!” The moment his words escaped in an impulsive act, Logan instantly clapped his hand over his mouth, trying to think in a way out of what he just brought to himself. A part of him – very small, pretty much overdued by the excited energy building again on his body, - wishing Patton didn’t get the meaning behind that phrase.

“Your back?” His tune sounded much like what Roman likes to call ‘Lost puppy’ and Logan signed in a mix of relief and disappointment.

Then Patton gasped, suddenly full of joy. “Oooooh!!! Your!!! Back!!”

“Nonono, no, no! Patton, be reasonAAH!” A shriek cut all his protests and rational thoughts when Patton lowered his head and gave a soundly, big raspberry right on the right side of his lower back, making all his way to the other side with more careful, well placed raspberries. “I can’t, I can’t! Plea-ase!”

“I’m not listening a ‘stop’!~” He rested a kiss on his spine. “And, awww, kiddo! Why did you never tell me you had such a tasty back before?” The cat lover ran his index finger on his spine, leading electric shivers to shoot all across his nerves. “Now you made the Tickle Monster really, reeeally hungry! Good thing that now he has a very yummy yummy snack-y back-y right here!!”

Logan tried, - believe me, - he really, really tried to form some sort of coherent sentence, however, the moment Patton’s lips collided with the back of his ribs, softly nibbling and making ‘oh nom nom’ noises as his free hands occupied themselves at unmercifully squeezing his hips, his thumbs clued on the little divot localized there, Logan’s belly laughter ran freely. It swirling around them both, the melody mixed with the sound of his hands bagging on the floor, legs kicking in a fruitless struggle.

Patton gave the other side the same treatment (‘They deserve that attention too, Lo-lo! The Tickle Monster needs to be fair and good so Giggles bugs like you will be all happy and cute and giggly forever and ever!’) before giving the astronomy lover a break, finally helping him back (ha-) to lay on the bed, on his stomach.

Logan closed his eyes, a smile resting on his expression as his snorts and chortles started to become more sporadic, the tingling still running on his tickle spot. His eyelashes opened only to find Patton’s face adorned with a smirk.

“Hello-lo-lo, my precious, adorable, sweetest Squeaky Toy! Enjoying your birthday tickles?”

“I hate you.”

“Boop!”

Logan whined, the tip of his ears blushing as he hid his face on his mattress. “You’re insufferable.”

“Nope, silly, I’m the Tickle Monster!” Patton snickered, ignoring Logan’s grumpy growl. “And I was thinking, what about if we played a game, Blushy bear?”

…

Silence.

...

“What game?”

“Weeeell…” Patton’s face disappeared not taking long for Logan to feel the part next to his side sink as his attacker adjusted himself there. A cold breeze touched his back as the hem of his shirt was pushed up until it touched his neck, Patton’s fingers quickly sliding and lightly scribbling the length of his back, leading him to squirm occasionally. “I was thinking about that very tiiiicklish tickle spot of yours and I realized… Do you know how much vertebras a human has, Lo-lo?”

“Yes, of course. Counting with the sacral and the coccyx we have about thirty-four vertebras, although, since they’re fused on the coccyx it can variate and result as thirty-three as well.”

“Ohhh,” Patton’s tune was solemn and, if it wasn’t for the feeling of his fingers still drumming on his skin, Logan could almost forget the imminent danger that question represented, “well, I have no idea of how much there are!”

“But I just told you-”

“So I think you will have to help me to discover it and lay veryyyy still so I can count them! You’re such a strong, lovely squeaky toy and I’m sure you can do this!” He placed an only one finger on the base of his waist, teasing the spot before going full on scratching, being so careful and, oh, so mindful to circle every single vertebra, prodding and poking each inch of sensitive skin there. His torso arched for a piece of time before hitting the mattress with force. “Oneeee, twoooo, threeeee…”

A jolt bolted from the spot and spread across his senses, resulting in Logan beginning to sputter halfhearted protests, his words interleaving with high pitched wheezy giggles, growing more and more louder as his friend got dangerously close to his shoulder blades. He squirmed and struggled and wiggled, hands firmly gripping the fabric under his fingers, his mind losing the count as Patton decided to re-start it over and over and over again, since-

“Now, now, Logie Bear. I know you just love to be such a lovely, absurdly ticklish squirmy little bear, but The Tickle Monster reaaaally needs you to stay still so I can tickle, ops! I mean, count all those tickly spots, oooops, I mean, vertebras of yours!”

Logan lost the track of time by the moment Patton ceased the attack, carefully massaging his shoulders to help him to relax and stop his giggles.

“Logan…” he asked when noticed that the other calmed himself, the blush getting weaker on his cheeks.

“Yes, Tickle Monster?”

Logan had to wait more three minutes so Patton would stop squealing, absolutely overwhelmed with joy.

“When I say you’re the most precious Squeaky Toy and that I could just hold you and softly graze my fingertips on your sides as I place raspberries and nuzzles and whispered teases about how much absolutely CUTE and ADORABLE you and you amazing laughter are and just hold your hands up so you can’t stop me when I tickly tickle your ticklish thighs but my grip will be loose enough so if you really want you could pry away but you won’t because you just love so much being tickle tickled silly and-”

“Patton! The question.”

“Oh, right! Er… uhh… How many vertebras there are…?”

“About thirty four or thirty three.”

There was a piece of silence before the words exploded in frantic sentences from his friend’s mouth.

“Oh my gosh, Logan! Logan, I just managed to count twenty! Logan, oh my gosh, where are your other ones? Are you in pain? We need to go to the hospital! I can’t believe you never told me you don’t have all of them kiddo! I’m going to-” The rest of his panic was muffled by Logan’s wheezing, uncontrollable laughter, which was doubled when the most professional one turned slightly around only to find Patton giving him that confused frown.

“Y-you,” he fought to take a breath, failing “You can’t actively count them just by touching-” and Logan didn’t know if it was the occasion, or the silliness engulfing them or even the so pure and clear confusion on the other’s tune, but he found it difficult to stop his laughing.

…

“So, your spine is okay?”

“Yehehes!”

“Oh, that is good, kiddo! Because now I’m going to give you something to laugh about, mister!!”

Then Patton bounced, attacking that horrible, forbidden spot between his shoulder blades, leading a loud shriek and even more wild laughter to escape from him due the new maddening – awesome, - sensation.

“Coothie coothie coo, Blushy bear!!”

“Listen to all that wonderful laughter! That's such a big, sweet smile!! Those cute little yelps, squeaks, and ah! Was that a snort?”

“Awwww, someone here is a tickly ticklish baby? Huh? Yes, you are! Yes, you are, my incredible adorable Squeaky Toy! Coothie coothie coo, bear!”

“You're so precious and so amazingly smart, wonderful, strong, cool and sweet! You deserve all the tickles tickles tickles from the Tickle Monster!!”

Tears of mirth began to accumulate on the corner of his eyes, and that was the cue for the other to begin to lessen the tickles, resuming his attack to sporadic butterfly kisses on Logan’s back.

“Stohohohop! I wihihill tell!”

“Aww, will you?”

“Yehehes, I will! Juhuhust cease!”

“Okay!” Patton gave a last nuzzle on his bare neck before his hand came down to comb his hair, giggling at Logan’s state. “Remember, it’s: ‘I, the smart Logan Sanders, am an adorable, incredibly, horribly tickly ticklish Squeaky Toy and I just looove receiving tickle, tickle, tickles from the Tickle Monster!’. Don’t forget to say every single word, Giggly Bear, or we will have to start it all over again!”

Logan whined, turning around so he wouldn’t be able to visualize Patton’s bright smirk. “Shuhuhut up. Urg. Ihihi- I, the incredible and smart Logan Sanders, am an a-ahahadorable, incredibly, horribly ti-ti-tichihihckly, ticklihihish S-squeaky… Toy… and…”

“Aaaand?”

“Dehehear Newton I despise your existence on this planet- and I just… loOove receiving tickletickleticklesfromtheTickleMonster. Thehehere! It’s said, leave mehehe alone!”

“It is, indeed!” Patton beamed, lowering himself to plant a soft kiss on the birthday boy’s temple, “Thank you for being such an adorable and great lee, Lo. Do you want some cool water? A snack? I can make it while you rest a little, okay? We could marathon Doctor Who again!”

“Yes. I think that would… suffice.” Logan smiled. A small, warm smile that made Patton feel like he could just melt for knowing it was being directed to him. “And… I also express my gratitude for your… birthday tickles, as you call it. It was quite…” he frowned, as if he was trying to recall something, “a-okay, I believe.”

“Aww! Thank you, kiddo!” And, if Patton lightly blushed with the compliment and both cuddled during the whole marathon, sometimes whispering soft, gentle compliments to each other? Well, shhhh, that is their secret to share, okay?

78 notes · View notes

i-write-you-songs · 3 years

Text

Caged

chapter four

THE WARNING ⚠️

starvation, collared Janus, Thomas is passed out, blood, shock torture mentioned, yelling, cussing, cannibalism (please tell me if I miss any)

If any of these trigger you please please please don’t read I dont want you to have a bad day if you like the fanfic go ahead and like it and I take requests for fanfics and art

(@ ima-patatoo)

enjoy🙃

“I’m sorry.” Janus slowly came to consciousness by a voice he recognized.

He tried to breathe in but he was almost sure he was still in the air with the metal collar around his neck. Wait...

“V-Vir-irgil.” He croaked, reaching up to try and get the collar off of his throat. He wasn’t surprised when the familiar metal clanked against the chain that was tied to the wall and he let out a hoarse cough.

He leaned against the wall and tried to fall back asleep, but just succeeded in drifting in and out of sleep.

He knew days were passing when he was waking up and just staring at the ceiling for god knows how long, before going back to sleep. Virgil never seemed to visit him anymore, and more voices crowded him that sounded familiar. He didn’t care. He was to tired. He just stared at the ceiling and slept, then repeated the process the next day. The pain in his stomach just increased and every so often he would chew on his arm or shirt. It helped, he guessed.

————

He jerked awake to hear a yell and rattling against bars and he sat up, letting out a hiss of pain as he did so. He was in the corner of a cage, blood seeping from the side of his face.

“Janus? Are you okay?” Was that Patton. He heard a low keen that surely couldn’t come from him and he clutched his head in his hands and a low growl came from his throat.

He heard shifting and suddenly nobody was next to him and he looked up to see all the side at the other side of the cage. He snarled at them and when he smelled blood he nearly melted. Food?

His eyes shot to where he smelled the blood and he tensed when he saw a sides shoulder bleeding. Patton stepped in front of the side and glared at Janus.

“You can’t touch Roman!” Patton yelled, making Janus flinch and hiss. The name Roman sounded familiar and he assumed that the bleeding sides name was Roman.

He smelled blood from somewhere else and remembered the side of his head was bleeding and so was his arm.

He looked up at Patton before slowly starting to naw on his arm and try and drink the blood. He was so hungry.

“Janus! No!” Patton stepped forward and Janus bared his teeth at him. “Don’t eat yourself!” Patton scolded.

Janus hissed but stopped eating his arm and started chewing on the remains of his shirt. He had eaten almost his entire shirt by now, as it was the only food he could get.

Since he didn’t have a shirt on, you could see the scars and bruises on Janus’s torso. Black marks that looked suspiciously like lighting appeared on his back and chest and burns littered his arms. Patton sighed and Remus gently stepped forward.

“Hey, Jan. Can you stop eating your shirt? It’s not healthy.” He said softly, inching closer.

Janus snarled at him and pressed himself to the side of the cell even more.

Remus looked at him with tears in his eyes but sighed and stepped back.

“Hey, Janus. Can you... can you still speak English?” Logan asked quietly, inching a little closer to Janus.

“Yes.” Janus snapped, growling at him. “Some.”

“Can... can I come near you? Without you eating me?” Remus asked quietly, looking at Janus from where he was sitting.

“Proba-probably n-ot.” Janus said quietly. “To hungry.” Janus twitched and scratched at his neck, biting his nails after.

“Can I try and see if I can sit next to you?” Remus asked quietly. Janus opened his mouth to protest but couldn’t find the words and just nodded.

Remus slowly made his way over to Janus, watching him closely and sat in front of him.

Janus longed to eat something but never in a million years would want to eat his husband.

Remus slowly took Janus’s hands, rubbing his thumb across Janus’s knuckles and that one motion made Janus burst into tears.

“Oh no, sweetheart. It’s okay sshhh it’s okay.” Remus pulled him into a hug, brushing his fingers through Janus’s hair.

Janus sobbed into Remus’s shoulder, pushing against Remus in an attempt to get more comfort.

Remus hushed him and kissed the top of his hair, his heart twisting in pain at the sight of his husband.

Remus felt Janus slowly relax after a little while, slowly falling asleep again. Remus set Janus’s head on his lap as he leaned against the bars behind him. The rest of the sides watched Janus with pity in their eyes and Roman looked at where the door of the room was.

“Can... can we even sink out? In the physical world is Thomas just... gone?” Roman asked quietly, looking at Logan. The sides shrugged. Thomas was laying on the floor in a ball, not speaking or moving.

“Thomas? Are you okay, kiddo?” Patton asked softly, creeping forward. He jumped when Logan gasped and rushed towards Thomas.

“Thomas! Thomas can you hear me?” Logan shook Thomas’s shoulder and moved his hair out of the way to see Thomas’s face. It was extremely pale and the realization hit Patton like a brick. Thomas is starving. Patton also gasped and rushed forward but stopped and Logan stood quickly when Virgil pushed the door open.

“I’ve come to get Janus and no one else. Stay back or I’ll feed you to him.” Virgil growled, walking forward and unlocking the cage and stood in front of Remus and Janus.

“I’ll rip out your throat and shove it up your ass if you touch him.” Remus yelled, huddling over Janus.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I can just take you too, you know. Either your getting hurt with Janus or it’s just Janus. I’m taking him either way.” Virgil said, summoning the electric poker. Remus opened his mouth to argue but just snapped it shut and gently stood up with Janus in his arms and walked towards the door, flinching when Virgil suddenly snapped an electric collar around Remus’s neck with a leash attached to it.

“Let’s go.” Virgil tugged at the collar and Remus looked back at his brother before following Virgil out of the room and up the stairs.

#unsympathetic virgil #abused Janus #sanders sides #sympathetic roman #sympathetic remus #sympathetic logan #sympathetic patton #sympathetic deceit #Abusive Virgil

17 notes · View notes

delimeful · 4 years

Text

Stemming the Tide

writing has been like pulling teeth lately but i managed this little drabble inspired by @smalldrops super gorgeous mermaid art! i went a little off the rails with the plot/tension, but i hope you like it anyhow :P

warnings: fear, capture, mention of starvation, mention of illness, threat of eating people, sad patton hours, everything turns out fine i promise

- Patton had only been looking for a place to rest for the night when he spotted the light. Blue and glowing, a beacon in the dark.

It was deep waters, the type that he would have avoided if he hadn’t been so desperate to travel quickly. He was risking a lot, down where more vicious predators lurked, but the journey had gone so smoothly, and he was close to finally being home... he’d simply let his guard down.

It was a mistake to approach the light, one that he didn’t realize until he saw the shadow of something huge move in the water, so large it created small currents with every motion.

In the next moment, he was swept up in a flurry of bubbles, something cool and leathery wrapping around him and pinning his arms and his satchel to his sides. He caught a glimpse of sharp nails as the light bobbed and swayed above him, and he abruptly realized that it was a giant hand that had grabbed him.

He couldn’t help but yelp as he was dragged forward, and in the next moment he was feet away from a face large enough to match the hand. A giant mer, Patton realized as he wriggled, tail lashing in panic. The fingers around him only tightened, making him wheeze. In front of him, the mer’s bait light drifted lower, illuminating the both of them.

The mer was inspecting him with narrowed glowing eyes, bioluminescent freckles to match scattered across his indigo skin. The edges of him seemed to blur into the dark waters around them, but Patton was sure he could see a few serrated fangs poking out past his lips.

Another hand appeared, webbed fingers carefully brushing over Patton’s shoulders and head as though he couldn’t quite see what he held in his grasp. The smaller mer flinched away automatically, watching those sharp claws as his gills fluttered with the effort of regaining his breath.

In front of him, the giant mer frowned slightly, ear fins twitching down, and then let out a sigh that ruffled Patton’s hair.

“You’ll do, I suppose,” he muttered, and began to lift him to his lips, which were parting to display rows of sharp teeth.

Patton felt a chill run down his spine, and all his frills flared out in alarm. “Wait, wait wait wait wait!”

The mer stilled, and then sighed, pulling his hand back to inspect him once more. “What is it that you have to say, then?”

Patton blinks, surprised that his calls had actually worked. “Um… Please don’t eat me?” he tried, tail fin twitching nervously.

The mer pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, brow crinkling, and took a deep breath. “Look here, and see if you don’t understand.”

He moved his arm back further, and Patton caught sight of his chest, where his skin stretched taut over his ribs, looking near starved. Below that, the mer’s long and winding tail was half-buried beneath a cascade of heavy rocks and silt. The rocky reefs up above were often unstable, so an avalanche was far from impossible. What was more astonishing was the fact that the mer was still so composed, stuck down here for who knew how long.

“There you have it,” the mer said dryly. “Believe me, I would rather avoid eating anything that can plead for mercy, but unfortunately that is not an option right now. I have to eat, or else I will die. Please do not take it personally.”

He started to lift his hand again, and Patton patted it (heh) hurriedly to get him to stop. “Hang on, there must be another way! See, I need to get this medicine to Roman-- he’s my best friend and he’s terribly sick-- and I traveled through what feels like the whole ocean to get it, I can’t stop now!” He wiggled the arm closest to his satchel in emphasis.

“I don’t see how that’s particularly relevant to me, since I do not know or care for your friend. Regardless, I don’t see any alternative, and I sincerely doubt that you see one.”

Patton bit his lip. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong fin. I’m Patton! What’s your name?”

“There is no point in exchanging--,” the mer cut himself off at Patton’s pleading stare, sighing through his nose. “You may call me Logan, but pleasantries don’t change the facts of this situation.”

“Right, of course.” Patton nodded agreeably, forcing himself to relax his shoulders and stop his tail’s panicked swishing. In response, the hand around him eased it’s grip slightly, and Patton took a grateful deep breath. He had to stay calm. His new acquaintance wanted to eat him, yes, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t work something out!

“Well, Logan…,” he thought hard for a moment, and then brightened. “What if I got something else for you to eat? I could even hunt for you until you get your strength back! On the other hand, if you, um, ate me, then you’d still be stuck all alone down here without knowing if you’ll get any help…”

He could see the other mer take a moment to consider it, fins twitching in thought, before he shook his head slightly. Patton’s heart sank.

“You have a point, however, those odds are all reliant on your participation. If I release you and you don't return at all, I will be left with nothing. If I…,” Logan shifted uncomfortably, “don’t release you, I will at least live a little longer, and perhaps gain the energy to free myself.”

“I’m not going to leave you here to starve!” Patton immediately replied, frowning at the thought.

Logan shook his head, grip closing in around Patton again, firmer this time. “I simply can’t be sure of that. You want to survive as badly as I do. You would say anything to be free of me.”

“I… I don’t have anything to prove it but my word, though,” Patton said, voice growing smaller as panic filled his lungs. He thought about Roman, acres away, growing sicker and sicker as he waited for Patton to return. The other mer would die thinking Patton had abandoned him. He felt like sobbing, and forced himself to speak through the lump in his throat. “Logan, please, I promise I’ll come back.”

Logan turned his face away, avoiding eye contact, and Patton’s frills flattened against the sides of his head despondently. He… he really wasn’t going to get out of this one, was he?

Rough cloth pressed into his side uncomfortably, and he jerked his head up, struck with an idea. “Oh! Logan!”

The large mer’s glowing eyes locked back onto him, surprise flitting across his features.

“The bag-- My bag! Can you just,” he wriggled his shoulders a little, and Logan obligingly loosened his grip enough for Patton to work his arms out, “thank you!”

With slightly shaky hands, he pulled the strap of his satchel over his head, tugging the precious bag up into his arms and forcing himself to hold it out. “Here. If you manage to escape, then, after you-- after I’m gone, can you, um... Please, can you take this to Roman?”

He leaned forward, pushing it towards Logan pleadingly. “He doesn't have anyone else, and if he doesn't get it--,” his voice cracked painfully, and he had to pause to collect himself, swallowing thickly.

Logan reached out with his other hand, delicately pinching the strap between two claws and letting the bag settle in his palm. Patton slumped against the hand around him, relieved and desolate in equal measures.

“Th-- Thank you. Thank you, Logan.” He felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, knowing what it meant, that Logan had agreed.

Hopefully, the giant mer would be able to get free. Patton truly believed that Logan would hold up his end of the deal. He was going to die here, but… at least Roman might live. That was better than nothing, right?

He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for what he knew would happen next. The hand around him moved, lifting him through the water, and… loosened?

Patton opened his eyes, surprised, and his fins fluttered to keep him upright as the hand fell away entirely. A primal part of his mind screeched for him to bolt, but his curiosity and the knowledge that he needed that medicine kept him treading water in place.

“Fine,” Logan said, rubbing at his temple as though he had a headache. “Fine! We’ll try it your way.”

Patton blinked, once, twice. Then-- “Really?!”

“Yes, really,” Logan grumped, settling back against the seafloor. “But I am keeping your medicine as collateral, so don’t even contemplate betraying me.”

Patton flipped and twisted a couple of times in the water, too ecstatic to keep still. “I don’t know what collateral means, but I would never leave a r-eel-y good friend like you behind!”

“Keep up those atrocious puns and I’ll be the one going back on my word,” Logan replied in a monotone, expression flat. Patton muffled a laugh, not threatened in the least, and Logan rolled his eyes. “Proceed with your hunting, already.”

“Okay! Be back soon!”

“...Okay.”

#sanders sides #ts logan #ts patton #g/t #giant/tiny #Mermaid #mermaid au #writing #my writing #stemming the tides #stt #almost named this 'the snack that smiles back: patton!'#after dew's wonderful tags #this was a very fun piece for me to write im happy to put it out there

431 notes · View notes