logically-starjam

[logically-starjam]

instructions

ship: logince

word count: 504

taglist: @sleepless-in-starbucks @acanvasofabillionsuns @heavenly-roman @clearqueerskies @izzynuggets @enragedbees @trans-demon-king @main-chive @yalltookmyurlideas @demidork84 @soupgromlin @be-ace-punch-nazis @ollyollyoxinfree @angels-were-never-meant-to-fall @creativity-killed-thekitten @firey-alex @raaindropps @aqua-mazing @always-anxious612 @its-logan-appreciation-day @strawberryjellystuff @escalatingtoofast @stopitanxiety @melodiread @sleepy-sides @averykedavra @spaceiscoolhuh

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this is the prize fic for @sanderssidesweirdo, hope you enjoy!!

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Logan was gone for a grand total of thirty minutes— it would supposedly be enough time for Roman to finish assembling their new bookshelves.

Unsurprisingly, though, he came back to see a mess of glitter everywhere.

It was on the floor, the furniture, and especially on Roman, who was still sitting cross-legged on the ground.

“I swear I read the instructions,” he said quickly, once he noticed Logan standing in the door.

Logan looked to him, then the mess.

“So you're telling me you read the instructions and still managed to get this result?” he asked, gesturing to the still-disassembled and glitter-covered bookshelf.

“I did,” Roman insisted. “I mean, I tried— I wanted to... well, I tried to want to?”

Logan looked exasperatedly fond. “Pfft.”

“‘M sorry, honey,” Roman apologized. “ I just— I don’t like being put in a box.”

Logan kissed his forehead. “I know, sweetheart, it’s alright. I don’t mind in the least.”

Roman melted under his lips. “You deserve a shelf at least half as pretty as you,” he mumbled.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up teasingly. “Just half?”

“Nothing can truly match your beauty,” Roman quipped.

Logan rolled his eyes. “You’re a dork, darling, were you aware?”

“Believe it or not, I was,” Roman laughed. “You always remind me, and it’s awfully hard to forget something an incredibly handsome man tells you.”

Logan sighed fondly. “I love you, dearest. What do you say we get some wood and make our own shelf, later?”

“I’d like that a lot better,” Roman admitted.

He looked up at Logan and held out his hand; Logan took it and helped him up— but, even once Roman was standing up again, Logan made no effort to let go of his hand.

Roman glanced down, then back up to Logan. “You’re going to be the death me.”

“What?” Logan asked innocently.

Roman huffed. “You’re still holding my hand, love. This is grade school stuff, it shouldn’t make me so ecstatic, the fact that you want to be with me, to hold my hand.”

“Course I want to be with you,” Logan said, as if it should be obvious. “I am rather in love with you.”

Roman’s other hand flew to his chest. “Holy shit, babe.”

“You’re dramatic,” Logan chided, “you know I love you.”

Roman threw himself into Logan’s arms. “I’m being murdered in my own home by tender words as sweet as you are. Be still, my beating heart.”

Logan rolled his eyes and kissed Roman’s cheek. “You are, without a doubt, the single most hyperbolic person I’ve ever met.”

“But you still love me,” Roman teased, as if it were an embarrassing secret they were sharing at a sleepover.

This time Logan kissed his nose. “It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

That shut Roman up for a moment, as his face turned beet red.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled, once he could form all of his words again.

Logan smiled and held Roman nearer to his chest. “I thought as much.”

[logically-starjam]

I'm only a beginner at this, but I do try to write on this blog.

Hey fanders!

With the new episode, like many of us, I’ve started craving fanfic. And it’s been long enough, and my memory is bad enough, that basically the only writers i remember are Randomslasher and Altruistic-Skittles.

I know I’m not alone, and I know a lot of content creators have a hard time getting recognition and stuff, so i think this might be a good medium.

So basically, just, reblog this with tags, and if youre a writer yourself, just reblog with a comment. Something identifying you as a writer. Because i AM going to ask that if your yourself dont write fic, or arent tagging someone, to please keep comments and things in the tags. Unless, of course, something needs to be brought to my attention. Also, i AM counting comics among fanfic, because, while not the same thing, they are very similar at their core.

I know, realistically, that this probably isnt going to go that well, but if nothing else, i do think that its a good idea.

So, please, identify as many writers as possible. If you only know one or two off the top of your head? Perfectly fine. If you can’t think of any? Perfectly fine. Just reblog as much as you can, and lets get our creators some traffic!

Ill start off by tagging the ones i mentioned

@randomsnippets @altruistic-skittles

(Ps, in case it wasnt clear enough, this is specifically for the Thomas Sanders Sanders Sides fandom)

(Also, i tagged randomsnippets instead of randomslasher because snippets is where LJ posts their writing)

[logically-starjam]

i̶ ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶ I Don’t Love You

Pairing: Logince (Logan x Roman)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Notes: Um…. this is my first time posting writing on here……. I hope you guys like this!

He didn’t know what it was. Something about the way Roman walked, how he danced, how he breathed. There was no single answer to why Logan loved him the way he did. It was a bunch of small things. His hair, his eyes, his laugh. The way he whispered under his breath, the way he swung his hips side to side when he was singing, the way his eyes sparkled when he talked, the way everything about him was just so… so… So unapologetically him.

They shared a voice and a body, but Roman owned his. His movements, his smile his life were his own, as if Thomas never existed before him; as if no one ever existed before him.

Logan liked writing poetry about him. Just small moments. Unique little habits he noticed. He wrote this poetry often, but he never dared to use Roman’s name. He was careful like that, as Roman made a habit of visiting the logical side while he was working. Logan did not know what he would do if Roman ever saw what he wrote. Die, probably.

But no, Logan was not in love with him.

 ———————————————————————————————————-

A jump, a skip, a beat. A flutter in his heart and Roman could feel himself falling. Logan’s little smile that he tried to hide, the way his hands danced over a keyboard while he worked, the way he fiddled with the hem of his shirt when he was nervous or excited. He was so lovely, he was so kind, he was so smart, he was so him.

Roman loved that. Roman loved how Logan inspired him. Stories upon stories he had written about the two of them. Roman rescuing Logan from evil, Roman sweeping him up in his arms to tell him he was safe, Roman promising him that he would never leave and Logan doing the same.

Roman loved the idea of him. That’s what he told himself. Every time he wrote about Logan, he told himself the same thing ‘I am not in love with him. This is just my creativity. I like him for inspiration. I like him just as much as I like any other side’ Because Roman may love the idea of him.

But no, Roman was not in love with him

 ———————————————————————————————————-

 And sure, sometimes they would share lingering glances, and sure, sometimes Roman will need ideas so he goes to Logan and they stay up all night brainstorming together, and sure, sometimes Logan just can’t be alone with his thoughts at night so he goes into Roman’s room and they sit and talk for hours, and sure, sometimes after staying up at night they fall asleep together, hands and bodies intertwined as one but no, they were not in love with each other.

Because the very idea of that is preposterous, crazy, unheard of but… but not impossible.

Because maybe, sometimes they wish those lingering glances didn’t have to end, and maybe, sometimes Roman makes up a story without a plot just so he has an excuse to go see Logan, and maybe, sometimes Logan will visit Roman at night just because he can, and maybe, sometimes they pretend to be asleep in the morning after they fall asleep together because they didn’t want that moment to end.

Because maybe… maybe…

Maybe they would say anything to see each other.

And maybe, the next time they write a story or a piece of poetry they write in tiny writing in the margin:

Oh god… I hope I don’t love you.

[logically-starjam]

Dreamer’s Ball

I know I have tried to write a multi-chaptered fic in the past and failed, but with the current pandemic, I suspect I have a lot more time than last. 

Part One 

Word Count: 1117

Pairings: Future Analogical, Future Background Roceit

Warnings: scheming, chartreuse, and a few almost bad words. 

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     It was a cloudy, November’s evening, Logan observed. He was apprehensive of going to the Rodfords’s gala at first, but Dee and Roman had insisted and dragged the poor, bespectacled man along with them to go shopping for appropriate attire. He had groaned at the prospect of spending more money but knew that going with the two whirlwinds was his best bet at stultifying their reckless spending. They had dragged him to store after store only to find him uncooperative to their instructions and advice. 

     “You are absolutely parsimonious!” Roman sighed in frustration. “You’re a miser! A pinchpenny, a magpie!” He jabbed his finger in Logan’s chest while mustering up the best glare that he could. The normally dramatic and upbeat man’s nerves were fraying from the countless hours spent trying on suit after suit. 

     “I am not a miser. We simply do not have the funds to continue this reckless spending.” Logan insisted, peeling off a rather uncomfortable white dress shirt. Roman stared blankly. 

     “My apologies. Dee and I do not of the funds to continue this reckless spending.” Logan clarified. Several looks crossed Roman’s face in varying ways. Confusion was dramatically pushed across by Bewilderment before both toppled off, making way for Understanding’s brief performance, which was upstaged by Pity as Pity did a familiar tap-dance across Roman’s face. 

     “Ah yes, I almost forgot that not everyone is as fortunate as I.” He remarked as Logan rolled his eyes. Roman Rodford had been born to a rather wealthy family, while Logan Ackroyd and Dee Thoreau had clawed and fought for their place in the world. This meant that he typically forgot that the other two weren’t able to do the same things that he could do in a blink of an eye. To make matters worse, Dee would often agree to Roman’s harebrained, extravagant, and expensive schemes while counting entirely on Logan to shut them down in time before any money or time was actually spent. 

     ‘It wouldn’t have been very hard for him to get to where he is now even without his father’s help’ Logan thought. Roman’s good looks had often made him the talk of the town amongst most of the ladies and one knew that it didn’t take much more than that to find opportunities at one’s doorstep. In fact, that was exactly how Dee had gotten his golden ticket out of the gutters. Logan, on the other hand, was not found similarily appealing by the wealthy women of Wellshire. While Roman’s broad yet soft looks had the ladies swooning and Dee’s sharp wit and charisma proved him intriguing, the women of their town’s upper crust deemed Logan respectable and to be trusted, but emotionless and unappealing.

     “—chartreuse looks hideous on you. Red is too bold but baby blue too demure.” Logan drifted back into reality as Roman continued to babble on about coat colors. 

     “Roman. This is futile.” Roman whipped around to stare at Logan with a look that was as hurt as a baby tied to a cowcatcher during a train wreck. Logan blinked that image out of his mind. Perhaps he had been spending too much time around Roman’s brother. “I haven’t found a single coat that I can remotely deem suitable for public engagement. This is a never ending, impossible task. I am sure you two will manage fine at the party without me.” He looked towards Dee for the inevitable affirmation his best friend, who knew how much he detested social outings, would definitely provide to help him convince Roman to leave him alone at home. 

     Dee simply threw another suit at him. 

     “This one,” Dee said sharply. Logan shot him an unappreciative glare and reluctantly held up the new suit and inhaled sharply. The jacket was a brilliant deep blue that was nearing on black. The waistcoat was a lighter shade of indigo, reminiscent of sapphires with climbing swirls of silver throughout the front. Logan hesitantly tried it on. It was— 

     —perfect. Just perfect. Logan’s typical hiding spot behind the Rodford brothers’ lavish curtains had been taken. The perfect thing about that spot was that it hid the person from view almost completely while providing ample space for one to sit on the window seat. Unfortunately, Logan had not realized the seat was taken before he had briskly whisked the curtains to the side. 

     “Why, hello there.” said the stranger. 

     “Greetings. You’re in my seat.” 

     “Ah. My condolences.” The stranger replied; not making a single move to get up. A few seconds of silence stood between the two. 

     “May I have it back?” Logan impatiently asked. The stranger looked at Logan with total apathy in his eyes. 

     “Hmmm” He tapped a finger to his chin. “Let me think about it.” He screwed up his face in mock thought. “I don’t think so, no. Why don’t you go and enjoy the revel instead? I heard that the pool table was missing a cue. Maybe they can use the one stuck up your—”

     “—arse! He’s a pain in the arse I’m telling you!” Logan angrily shouted. The trio were sharing stories of the previous night at the party. Dee looked on with a bemused expression as his typically stoic friend ranted in a furious frenzy. 

     “Do you mean the Maitland boy?” Roman asked. “That’s rather amusing actually!” Logan’s head whipped around, his face contorted in confusion. 

     “What? What part of his deriding of societal etiquette could possibly be defined as ‘amusing’?” 

     “I would have rather thought you two would have quite compatible,” Roman said with a cheeky grin. “He’s a studious book addict like you and his wit and knowledge were commended all night by my brother and the guests, though my dear brother couldn’t figure out where he was.” 

     “That’s because,” Logan spat through gritted teeth. “He was busy consecrating social graces.” 

     “Oh come now, Logan! All this animosity because some fellow happened to get to your seat before you did? I’m sure his intentions were pure.” 

     “I- What? Have you listened to a word I said? I need revenge! I need a reprisal!” 

     “Well, I did hear that ol’ Patton Valentine is holding a leviathan bash this Sunday.” piped Dee from the corner. 

     “Ah, I knew I could always count on Pat to come through in a pinch!” Roman whirled around a fuming Logan to his large walk-in closet. “Now the only question is, whatever to wear?” 

     “Oh, and it’s a masquerade,” Dee interjected. 

     “A masquerade? How antique! I thought those were obsolete by now! Logan, darling, do you have the appropriate attire?” Roman asked. His question, however, was lost on deaf ears. Logan had the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind.

[logically-starjam]

I missed it, at first. I clung onto every last bit of normalcy I could salvage from the burning wreck. I tried to fool myself that everything was the same, that everything was all right. But it was no use. I missed my life. I missed the routines that I would pretend to denounce, only to fall in line when the time came. I missed the voices and faces I would hear and see throughout the day, the distinctive, individuals I thought I'd never forget. I missed my own pattern of behaviors that had fit like a second skin at the time, only to feel misshapen and cumbersome in my new environment. I was angry and frustrated. "Just as everything started to go right" I kept thinking to myself. I was resentful and stubborn and refused to cooperate, refused to truly accept that this was it. But, humans change. Humans adapt. And I, no matter what I insist, am human. I started to find a new personality, one missing the flaws of my last. I still missed those voices, yes, but I began to appreciate the beauty of silence. I made new routines and dared to allow for risks. Everything was not the same, but it was alright.

[logically-starjam]

Hey!! So my birdies are planning to have babies and i opened a patreon to be able to afford caring for them!

So if you wanna see some neat exclusive stuff,get a say on whats next, posts way before they go live and concept artwork of the stories and AUs i work on with one coffee worth every month you'll get access to ALL of that!

Reblogs are SUPER appreciated!

[logically-starjam]

here’s a not-so-drabble-y drabble based off this post by @not-a-clever-username - I saw the post and listened to the song, and I absolutely adore the idea; it’s a little rushed, but it was super fun to write (and I played the entire Regrettes discography so that was nice)! I got a beachy vibe from the song, and the rest of the story is loosely based on the lyrics - hope you enjoy it!

  Roman Prince is a mess, but at least he’s an attractive one.

  That’s what he told himself as he rushed around his apartment earlier this morning, anyway - he just finished his latest show, and he had been admittedly frazzled the last week, and maybe his apartment had gotten a little messed up (his landlord would attest that particular word choice, but his landlord isn’t here, so that’s irrelevant, isn’t it now?) in the process, and perhaps he chose to deal with that mess by… not dealing with it. At all.

  Which explains why he’s walking around the boardwalk with strawberry sherbet dripping down his hand, squinting behind his favorite pair of sunglasses (they’re holographic) under the Florida sun with his arms half-raised in the air to avoid the group of teenagers pushing past him without so much as a rushed “‘scuse me”. Roman hums under his breath as the group waddles away, their flip flops smacking against the wood in obnoxious cacophony with their mingling laughter and shouting at unsuspecting birds on the railings of the boardwalk.

  He brings a hand to his face shields his eyes from the sun - his glasses are striking, yes, but Beyonce wasn’t lying when she said pretty hurts; they’re absolutely useless, and his head’s already aching from knitted eyebrows over slitted eyes - and shuffles to the nearest shack, a little Barbie-doll-looking trailer with a canopy that boasts the state’s best Lemon Shake Ups; Roman just can’t resist the drink (or the shade). He grabs a napkin from the dispenser at the counter and wipes sticky red syrup off his hands as he watches the vendor comes to the counter from the corner of his eye.

  “How can I help you?” they ask, although their voice melds it into a bored statement more than a question.

  “Just a Shake up, please,” Roman responds, tossing the stained napkin in the trash, his half-eaten and thoroughly-melted sherbet close behind. “Extra ice.”

  The figure in his peripheral pauses. “You know a Shake up is already, like, eighty percent ice, right?”

  “I do, but it’s one thousand degrees here and I’m ready to jump in the Antarctic ocean if it means I’ll cool down a bit,” Roman says, and the vendor actually laughs, catching his attention, so he finally looks up.

  And almost falls over.

  The vendor is a boy his age, with purple-dyed hair falling into his round brown eyes and pale skin with a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and his mouth is pulled into an easy smirk. He’s wearing a black baseball tee and ripped black jeans under his bright yellow uniform apron despite the heat as he leans his hip against the counter.

  He’s gorgeous.

  Roman doesn’t realize he’s staring until the boy glances at him and raises an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

  “Oh,” Roman says with all the eloquence of a newborn squirrel, and he swallows quickly, regaining his composure and flashing his token smile at the work of art in front of him. “Well, I suppose you could.”

  The boy pauses his work to stare quizzically at Roman. “How’s that?”

  “You could tell me your name.”

  He freezes for a moment before laughing again, setting Roman’s drink on the counter and leaning forward onto the counter with his elbows. “That’ll be three bucks.”

  Roman smiles. “For the drink, or your name?”

  “The drink,” he says, but a second later he mutters a quick, “It’s Virgil,” as he takes Roman’s money.

  “Virgil,” Roman repeats reverently, rolling the word around in his head. “Very fitting.”

  “I’m sure,” the boy - Virgil - snarks; he levels his gaze at Roman, and it takes a second for the latter to reorient his ability to function. ”Do you have a name, or do you just like stealing other people’s?”

  “Roman,” he manages, sending Virgil another dashing smile. “Roman Prince.”

  Virgil hums in response, looking Roman up and down, his mouth quirking up at the corners. “Prince, huh?” Roman takes a bow and Virgil snickers. “Yeah, that works.”

  “So, Virgil,” Roman says, revelling in the way the name sounds in his mouth, “when’s your birthday?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your birthday,” he repeats with a crooked grin, and he nearly laughs at Virgil’s dubious expression. “I read somewhere that my most compatible month is May - I’m just checking the facts.”

  “Well, guess your Cosmo magazine was wrong,” Virgil snorts as he sets to wiping down the counter. “It’s in November.”

  “You do think we’re compatible, though?”

  Virgil blinks. “Fuck, wait-”

  “Mmmm, no, you said it, no take-backs,” Roman says in a singsong voice, taking a sip from his drink as the other boy glares at him despite the barely-repressed smile on his face.

  “What are you, five?”

  “Five star, sure.”

  Virgil snorts again. “Right.” He puts a hand on his hip and raises a single eyebrow down at Roman, his gaze flicking over the other boy’s outfit, a simple white t-shirt with a golden crown in the corner and red skinny jeans. “Well, Mr. Five Star, I actually do have work to do, so maybe go flirt with the kid in the snow cone booth - he’s more your type.”

  “And what exactly is my type?” Virgil ducks and points, so Roman looks back at the booth across the boardwalk - it’s a boy in a bright blue shirt and round glasses who’s making heart eyes at his black-clad coworker, a crimson blush across his face.

  “Bright,” Virgil answers Roman’s question, his voice tinged with something bitter. “Lively, maybe a little dull-”

  “Hey!” Virgil exhales a laugh. “Besides, who are you to say who I like and don’t like?” Roman leans forward, an inch away from Virgil’s face, his smile growing at the blush that spreads across the pale boy’s face. “Maybe I think you’re cute, and a lot of fun,” he says, tracing the counter idly with his fingertips, “and maybe we can go on a date sometime?”

  Virgil swallows with an audible click in his Adam’s apple, bangs shifting out of his eyes along the breeze. “Give me your drink.”

  Roman blinks, taken aback, but slowly hands him the barely-touched Shake Up. Virgil pulls a Sharpie out his apron and scrawls something across the cup before shoving it back at its owner.

  “Now shoo,” he says, waving Roman out of line, which had only just begun to grow again. “And text me,” he adds, just as the next customer is at the counter and rattling their order off to him.

  Roman looks down at his drink - over the label is a rushed, chicken-scratch phone number and a cartoon crown, signed with a single V.

  He glances back at the shack one more time and sets out down the boardwalk, a hand on his phone and a smile on his face.

[logically-starjam]

Anything prinxiety or Logince! Preferably with kisses! But take care of yourself please! Kay, love you 💕

i’m sorry did you say logince ALL kisses?  because that’s what’s happening. Just a whole bunch of making out.Companion piece to Storm Cloud.  

Logan kisses like a symphony.

All is a rush at first – the hubbub of everyone finding their seats as the show starts, the bickering and fiery retorts the prince and the musician hurl at each other.  Anyone else would flinch away from the insults spewed, but Roman knows there is no venom in them, no malice in the nicknames that they bandy back and forth.

Their words shine like thick velvet curtains lit by the glow of spotlights, and the curtains pull apart, their words fading away as Logan, eyes bright and blazing, pins him against the wall.

It’s show time.

Keep reading

[logically-starjam]

so in most human!sides au i’ve read where they’re in high school, roman is always the popular one and logan is always blending in the (nerd) crowd? what if we just

uhhh

SWITCH THE POWER DYNAMIC

roman involved in theatre (which is seen as “nerdy” and “for losers”) who is trying desperately to get on mainstage shows to follow the footsteps of his older brother patton who’s in college

logan who is the school president that everyone loves (though can be a bit wordy sometimes) because he comes up with great ideas that make the school better

they meet each other at an assembly because roman gets hit in the face with a t-shirt by a clumsy emo who was given the t-shirt launcher by mistake

ROMAN AS THE UNPOPULAR NERD AND LOGAN AS THE POPULAR LEADER

[logically-starjam]

alright, I know everyone goes feral for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers Prinxiety but consider the following

It’s the first week of freshman year, and Logan Cosmos is going to become Class President. His speech is perfect, and his delivery is impeccable.

So imagine his surprise when, the Officers are announced, Logan is Vice-President. He accepts his defeat, until he learns who he lost too. Patton Lark, who is much too concerned about the student’s feelings, and who’s ideas are ridiculous and things they don’t have the budget for.

Patton, who was floored when he became Class President, is starting to lose some of his joy. Logan doesn’t seem to care about the class’s opinions and sticks to the safe plan. Logan, who Patton is convinced ran for President to complete his perfect college applicantion, instead of for the sake of helping the class.

Meetings about budging and fundisers soon become all out debates between Patton and Logan, both stubborn and neither willing to make the first move.

With tensions high at the start, a growing feud, and a stressful four years ahead of them, Logan and Patton have to work out their differences and become friends (or maybe more) before they take everyone down with them.

Or, Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers Logicality, featuring Secretary! Virgil, Treasurer!Deceit and Sergeant-at-Arms! Roman, who are all in for the ride.

[logically-starjam]

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Characters: Logan, Patton, Remus

Ship: Logicality

Word Count: 2005

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, self-deprecation, animal abuse

~

     Everyone in town knew Patton. He was charming, sweet, kind, and beautiful. Many people adored him. Some were public with their affections, while others settled for pining from afar.

     Logan was one of the people content to simply pine. He watched as people gave him gifts, hugs, the occasional kiss, and extravagant confessions of love. He noticed how Patton was kindest when he had to reject someone; how he was gentle and careful, never leaving anyone feeling lesser than. Logan couldn’t help but love him all the more for it.

     He waxed poetic about Patton to his best friend, Remus, who didn’t fully understand but supported him anyway. Logan told him of his woes, of how the chance Patton would ever like him back was slim to none, and Remus was there as a shoulder to lean on, only being a little judgemental.

     Then one day, Patton announced the competition.

Keep reading

[logically-starjam]

Error 404: Gay Malfunction

A Sanders Sides One Shot

Warnings: Sympathetic.Morally Grey Deceit, one blink-and-you’ll-miss-it hint at something nsfw (If I need to add anything, let me know)

Pairings: Loceit

Description: Deceit enjoys flirting with a certain logical side

Word Count: 804

A/N Part 1: This was written for Deceit’s birthday, but mostly it’s just a self-indulgent fic of my two favorite characters flirting. So I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

You can also find this story here on ao3

“Well well well, isn’t this a surprising turn of events? What would goody-two-shoes Patton say if he knew you agreed with someone as evil as me?” Deceit feigned a look of shock and horror, but Logan could see the delight sparkling in his mismatched eyes.

“I never said I agreed with you completely; I said you had a few solid points in your argument. As for what Patton would say, I can’t quite say it matters one way or the other. Despite your… at times questionable methods and beliefs, I am aware you only want what’s best for Thomas. You’re not nearly as bad or ‘evil’ as the others believe you to be.” Logan hesitated before continuing. “In fact, I think there’s more good in you than anything else. Certainly more than what you show to almost everyone here.”

Dee’s expression slipped from fake to genuine, and Logan gave his fellow side a small smile. He thought that would be the end of it, but then the look he was giving Logan went from surprised to mischievous. 

Keep reading

[logically-starjam]

Blink and You’ll Miss It

Summary: Roman has been crushing hard on his best friend but not wanting to break up the group or risk Virgil hating him, he suffers in silence. Up until Logan has had enough of it.

Warnings: Swearing, anxious thoughts/feelings, kissing. (I think that’s it, but let me know!)

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety, Romantic Logicality.

Word Count: 3264 words

A/n: This was just a fun little write that I did quite a while ago. I just wanted to get it posted! Hope y’all enjoy!

Taglist: @isle-of-gold (if you ever want to be on my taglist, feel free to shoot me a message or an ask!)

                                       ~—~—~—~—~—~

It was the little things.

It was the little things that someone would overlook without a second thought when one glanced at another person.

Anyone else wouldn’t care how Virgil’s eyelashes fluttered when he rested his eyes for a moment because he didn’t sleep well that night. They wouldn’t care about the way he tapped his fingers on his thigh when he was relaxed or nodding along to the beat of the music blaring in his over-sized headphones. Or how he would bite his lower lip when he was concentrating or thinking about something abstract. Or the twitch of the corner of his lips when someone said something vaguely amusing, or the way he would cover his mouth if he laughed a little too loudly.

It was the little things that someone wouldn’t notice unless they were absolutely enamored with another person.

And it was noticing these little things that got Roman caught.

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growing up without a fidget toy moodboard

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Anything prinxiety or Logince! Preferably with kisses! But take care of yourself please! Kay, love you 💕

i’m sorry did you say logince ALL kisses?  because that’s what’s happening. Just a whole bunch of making out.Companion piece to Storm Cloud.  

Logan kisses like a symphony.

All is a rush at first – the hubbub of everyone finding their seats as the show starts, the bickering and fiery retorts the prince and the musician hurl at each other.  Anyone else would flinch away from the insults spewed, but Roman knows there is no venom in them, no malice in the nicknames that they bandy back and forth.

Their words shine like thick velvet curtains lit by the glow of spotlights, and the curtains pull apart, their words fading away as Logan, eyes bright and blazing, pins him against the wall.

It’s show time.

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Chapter 4

Words:1807

Description: Sides on April Fools

Triggers: There a little spot where someone dies, slight bit of blood

(If I miss any please tell me)

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The house was quiet. Everyone was sleeping peacefully in their own rooms. The night was cool and the heat was turned off to keep a chill in the air. As it became midnight and changed into the first of April, alarm clocks rang in every room, waking everyone from their peaceful slumber. Every room except Roman's, that is. As everyone scoured their rooms searching for the hidden clocks to turn off the beeping, Roman ran down the hall yelling as loud he can. 

"It's April fool's! Let the games begin!"

Logan was the first to find his, tucked behind a small sculpture in his bookshelf. 

"Roman where is it?" Patton yelled through his door. Logan made his way to Patton's room to help him find it after Roman yelled out "That's part of the fun!" with a laugh. 

The second to find his was Virgil. "When were you in my room to plant this?" He asked, the dark circles under his eyes blending with his eye makeup.

"Your's was tricky," Roman admitted, "During dinner a few nights ago actually. Patton," he yelled out over the still ringing alarm, "Yours was the easiest!" 

The beeping was silenced, followed by a bedheaded Logan moaping back to his room, covering a yawn with his hand. Patton came out behind him, carrying the clock, unplugged in both hands. He thrust it at Roman.

"No," he gave a mean look, which coming from Patton became adorable from his failed attempt at intimidation. 

Virgil went back to his room as well, and all had to admit they were glad the first prank was out of the way. Logan and Patton slept until morning, unlike Virgil who was woke up by more alarms hourly, until the fourth, when he gave up on any attempt at sleep. He wandered out into the living room where Remus sat on the couch. 

"VIRGIE!" Remus yelled upon Virgil's entry, "You fell for the loop alarm? Why didn't you unplug it?" 

"I figured they'd stop at some point, but I was wrong," he said the last bit borderline, sing-songy. In the kitchen he turned on the Keurig a made a cup of some of Remus's Death-Wish coffee to try to replace the sleep he missed. He sat back on the couch with his freshly brewed cup and waited for what the rest of the day had in store. Virgil wound up making a second cup after having gulped down his first and was joined in the kitchen by Logan. 

"Are you sure caffeine is a good idea for you Virgil," he asked as politely as he could, "I understand this is typically an,, eventful, day, but I don't believe coffee will help. Especially Remus's highly caffeinated coffee, and especially not 2 cups, no matter how little sleep you got."

"Thanks, Logan but I need to be on guard today. If anything a little extra anxiety will be good."

Logan gave him a doubtful glance and turned away, letting him free to make his own decisions. As Logan began to fix himself breakfast, Virgil went back to the living room, seeing Remus sitting on the couch, his head draped over the edge, eye level with the coffee table and feet flung over the back. As Virgil as crossing over into the other room, his mug was taken by a bed-headed Patton. 

"No caffeine for anxious beans!" Patton said matter-of-fact-ly as he took the mug into the kitchen, adding milk and sugar to drink it himself, "We also don't waste perfectly good coffee." He took a rather large sip and puckered at the bitterness. "This is Remus's isn't it?" He glanced at Virgil, "Why are you drinking a cup of Death-Wish? I get it sounds spooky and it matches your whole,, thing, but come on Virgil!"

"That was his second cup," Logan informed Patton, who simply gave Virgil a slight look. He dropped his argument after remembering the vague alarms he heard through miles of sleep during the night. 

As the five of them settled into the living room, Roman having joined them after retrieving all the alarm clocks, they heard a yell from down the dark-sides hallway. Deceit stumbled out, clutching a fistful of plastic wrap, his hat slightly askew.

"Cling wrap to the face? I expected more from you Roman." He said with a slick voice behind his smirk. 

"Hey, that was me!" Remus yelled at him, tossing his feet over into Virgil as he positioned himself upright. 

"No," Deceit said, "You told me you were only doing the 2,"

"I pulled a You on you!" Remus said with a smile, getting Logan to grimace at his grammar. 

They let the excitement die down for a bit and allow everyone time to wake up. After a while, Logan goes up to go to the kitchen to make another coffee but was stopped by Patton. 

"I'm already heading out there, I'll get it for you." Logan thanked him as he gave Patton his mug and settled back into the couch. Remus had flipped back upside down and was fidgeting with the ball of plastic wrap Deceit had thrown at him. Roman has taken to annoying Virgil, poking his shoulder and repeating his name over and over. Patton came out a few minutes later with Logan's coffee and a cookie each for him and Virgil. Logan took the first sip and almost spit, forcing himself to swallow it to not make a mess. 

"Salt in the coffee, really Patton?" 

Remus, along with Roman, burst out laughing and reached over to high five Patton. Patton high fived the both of them at the same time and settled back in next to Virgil. Logan disappeared to make a new drink while shuttering from the foul taste left in his mouth. 

As Patton went to wash his mug, he was surprised by the sprayer sending water onto his chest instead of out of the faucet. He abandoned his mug in the counter to find a towel, yelling into the other room as he rummaged threw drawers. "I have to admit that one was good, but come on Logan!" 

Logan looked over to see Virgil looking at his thumbs with a slight smirk. "That wasn't me Pat," He told him. Patton though it over for a moment and made another guess.

"Virgil?" He asked.

"Yes?" Virgil asked back sarcastically. 

"That was a good one kiddo!" Patton said as he noted the certain time that gave away it was Virgil. 

Later in the day, things have calmed down. Logan had taken to reading in his room in his favorite chair, soft, covered in navy corduroy with a nice view out one of the windows. Patton and Virgil were on the couch napping, Virgil head on Patton's shoulder and Patton half hugging his shoulders. Roman, even, was working on a small writing piece. It wasn't until half past 2 that Remus came running into the living room. 

"Guys I killed Dee!" Remus yelled. Virgil woke up and tried to make sense of what he had just been told. 

"You actually killed him this time? Not like before where you try but he didn't?" Virgil interrogated the mustached man while Patton rubbed his eyes, calling for Logan who could probably handle the situation better than him in his drowsy state. 

To answer Virgil's question, Remus nodded. "My big prank was bigger then I thought and he's actually dead! " 

Virgil jumped up and followed Remus back to his room, somewhere they very rarely went, with Logan coming close behind. 

As they entered Remus's room, they noted the additions. A rusted crown was hung on the wall with the words "The Fallen Prince" hastily painted around it. More urgent details they noted were the machetes hung from the ceiling by fishing line and Deceit, unconscious on the floor with a gash across his head. Virgil looked over the situation and shoved Logan in front of him, taking deep breaths and muttering to himself. Logan, being more analytical, took in details of the scene, specifically the smell.

"He's fine Virgil, " Logan said to the panicking side, "He isn't hurt. The 'blood' is ketchup. That's why it smells like vinegar."

"You're no fun, Logan!" Remus said with a pout.

"Where did you even think this up?" Virgil asked, still worked up, but showing more anger then anxiety. 

"Well you know the prank where you out a bucket of water on top of the door, " He began laughing as he finishes out his thought, "I figured I might as well go to the next level and try decapitation!"

"Wait!" Logan interpreted, "Assuming you meant your 'big prank' to be decapitating Deceit, Why would you set it up in your room? How would you not expect this result?"

"Just to confirm," Virgil blurted out, "He's not dead right?" He pointed at Deceit.

"Yes he's fine, " Remus brushed it off, "The end of the handle wound up hitting him and knocked him out. I put the ketchup and fake cut to prank you," Remus pointed to Virgil over Logan. "And it's set up in my room because we arrange to discuss the next prank in here."

"No, " Logan demanded, "This has gone far enough. Both you and Roman are going to stop. Each of you crosses many metaphorical lines every year but this has gone too far." Logan kneeled down to check for a pulse on Deceit just to confirm for Virgil before ushering him out to Patton. As Patton took Virgil back to his room to help calm him, Logan went back to help clean up the ketchup and care for Deceit.

The night ended, to everyone's disappointment, with everyone upset. Deceit, fully conscious and without a concussion, confirmed  Logan, was pouting with Remus at the end of their hallway. Patton and Virgil were cuddled on Patton's bed watching slime videos to calm Virgil down and Logan was straightening up his bookshelf for lack of a better task. As everyone was getting prepared for bed, they found their pajamas missing, Patton being the first to notice.

"Hey, " he yelled out to everyone, "I thought Logan said no more pranks!"

"Yes, Yes. Wikipedia said no more but he can deal with this one, " Roman came into Patton's room, a laundry basket held against his hip full of everyone's pajamas. He picked out Patton's and Virgil's and tossed them to each of them respectively. "April fools," Roman said, rather unenthusiastically. Patton inspected the pajamas to find small red hearts dyed around the hems at the bottom, sleeves, and neck. The same markings we're on Virgil's and everyone else's. 

Patton beamed and hugged Roman for the gesture. "Not as extreme next year ok?" He asked, to which Roman nodded and left to hand out the rest of the pajamas. 

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What happens when @thejoanglebook, @tallykat3, and I have any free time on our hands. This is so frickin silly, but the audio was funny, we were having fun, and I had the boys, so here lol (Audio: Bo Burnham; Makeup: @tallykat3)