#Chugga's Wood Day

[bvannn]

Happy anniversary of the Daisy joke, can you believe it’s 8 years old?

How much things change, and how much they don’t. Happy Chugga’s Wood Day!

[aestheticvoyage2023]

Day 141: Sunday May 21, 2023 - “Workin on the railroad”

William, like a lot of little boys, really enjoys a good train. Something about the romance of that one-way Southbound, I guess - that rambler in his blood. 

I took a shot one weekend, as I imagine I stressed about some level of task loading (that would seem like cake now,) and turned on Thomas the Train and Friends and responded, quietly in awe, just like the little boy look in that “ussie” on the right.  Wide eyes, mouth open, drool.  And with that, our little guy loved choo-choos.  A switch had been flipped.  I think it was last December.   His second pair of sandals, that he has managed to keep for several months now, are the “choo-choo” shoes, his favorite, and he gladly put those on today when I told him we’d be riding a choo-choo train.  A BIG choo-choo train. A real choo-choo. (I imagined he might be thinking, “yea not like that battery powered one at the zoo!” - and was that really a whole month ago?  We’ve both been doing some levelling up.). YES, buddy, today is a big day.

We busted out from the girls and their lugar-loco to get some fresh air and sunshine together in Scottsdale at the McCormick-Stillman Railway Park after starting the day, at 5:45am, with a couple episodes of Thomas & friends.  Once at the park we “climbed aboard!” a real size old antique dining car train, through the old replica station and museum.  He didn’t make much sense of the inside, at all - but the outside, he just wanted to point and look.  To him, it must seem like its made for a giant.  I might have spiced the imagination a little bit, in telling him that this train used to talk and be on the show before they retired him to be in the park for little boys like him, and let him chew on that for a few minutes while I took him inside to buy a bundle of tickets for us to ride some rides together.  I like to picture that imagination in him like a steam engine, burning up any and all bits of information I throw at him throughout a day, loosely considering what might be real vs fantasy....and I consider that when I narrate with him all day every day, giving his little mind as many fun nuggets as I can in hopes that he grows up to believe the world to be a beautiful positive fun place...to love history, and information, and the grandness of the scheme, easier than most.

The real steam engine that was running laps at the park today, was waiting for us as we climbed in up front, right behind the engineer.  William got very quiet, and focused and smiled a lot. This is what he understood us to be here for - time to ride the choo-choo. When the train started at a nice pace along the mile long track, he started to hum a little version of chugga-chugga.  He waved at the people, called back to the train whistle and as soon as we pulled into the station he was ready with several tracks of “ride it again.” I happily obliged. The second time around, we moved to the caboose to be with the conductor.   Breeze in his hair, sitting on my lap and I was thinking that It was such a neat park, complete with old stops and a long wood shaft tunnel.  Very neat to find such an authentic park to have some time with just me and him before we get back into a busy week. I remember thinking “this was a really nice idea, Dad - way to pull it through.”  But as it would turn out, the train today wouldn’t even be the main attraction!  Before I could get another round of “ride it again” (yes, I may have learned something important from Toddle Waddle) I scooped him up and out of the station to our next big thing - the carousel.

As many times as we’ve been to the Zoo and walked past the carousel, William was never one time shown any interest and so Ive never tried.  But armed with a few extra ride tickets, we found ourselves choose a chariot worthy of King William The Lion’s first ride.   Whats also very interesting is this independent “don’t touch me phase” and suddenly I found myself in my own boundary checking of wanting to not have him fall on his face on his first carousel ride, with also understanding the affinity of saying “Im a big boy, I got this” in such an iconic moment. And so we both eased into it, until I stepped out of the frame and let him ride on his own.  Even with him just holding on with one hand (new toy train in the other).  

“No problem, Dad - just like riding a bike, right?  Its not a real horse!”  - the music would stop and the horse would slow and Id have to help him down, as I waited for the formal response ....would we be riding it again? Ayes Ayes.  The second time around we were a bit more choosy and picky about the horse we picked, and a little impatient with the music to start, but once we got going, we got that same awe-full look on his face.   Ah, the world in motion, brings him joy...he must surely have been conceived with Love As A Verb.  Its simply the best, to be with him in these simple moments.

We climbed back into Silver for the ride back to Tucson, and I pulled a little something out of my pocket.   William wasn’t the only one that got a new toy in the gift shop.  I’d picked up a train whistle too and attached it to my keys.  Once I got him strapped in and ready to roll, I blew it loud and proud and then gave an enthusiastic “All Aboard for Tucson!” and looked up to see his toothy smile in the mirror looking back at me.  Nice one, Dad.

Song: Billianne - Simply The Best

Quote: “Trains changed - conductors never did.” ― Harper Lee

[ladyjuxtaposition]

‪Thank you Proton Jon for reminding me that today's Chugga's Wood Day! It's been three years Emile, how do you feel now? 😆‬ If this can make him feel better, I myself had no idea what a heart-shaped box is until Jon had mention what it means. My innocence was lost long ago anyhow, but at least he's not the only one who had learned about it recently.

[babysizedfics]

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Chapter 5: A Little Reconciliation

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Roman mollycoddles his brother, Patton makes a suggestion, Logan is perceptive, and Virgil is brave.

Chapter word count: 8,500

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warning: This chapter addresses (and resolves) some negative self-talk with regards to age regression, as well as alluding to cyberbullying. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to either of these topics.

Also, there is some swearing at the start - what else would you expect from adult Roman and Virgil?

oOo

Roman marched up the stairs armed with cookies, milk, and fierce determination.

The events of the previous day had left him wallowing in regret all night, and he was tired of it. No matter how much his caregivers had both made a significant dent in the cloud of guilt that fogged his mind, he could not stop replaying his own laughter in his head. He had been awful to Virgil the day before, and Roman had known he could not truly feel at ease until he had apologised to him properly and earned his little brother’s forgiveness.

He had been prepared to partake in all manner of valiant acts to prove his loyalty; he was willing to slay the Dragon Witch in Virgil’s name, to erect a statue in his likeness and honour, even to let Virgil get the first pick on movie nights for a whole month.

He had said as much to Virgil in the kitchen that morning. In response, Virgil had nodded, said “It’s cool,” and then left the room.

It’s cool?! Roman was quite frankly appalled by the lack of dramatic flair. Where were the tears? The arguments? The emotionally-overwhelmed collapse into Roman’s waiting arms? It had not gone as he had rehearsed in the mirror at all.

When Roman complained about this to Logan, the logical side had; 1) asked why Roman wanted Virgil to cry, yell, and/or faint, 2) reminded him that Virgil had forgiven him and had clearly done so in whatever way he deemed fit, and 3) told Roman to stop being so dramatic.

Needless to say, Roman was no longer on speaking terms with Logan.

Never one to give up in the face of a challenge, Roman had found Virgil in the living room and apologised again (an abridged version of his speech this time around). He received a small smile and thumbs up in return before Virgil went back to scrolling on his phone silently.

Once again, Roman was surprised. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be forgiven, but it had been far too easy. It was not satisfying. And so he continued to apologise throughout the morning whenever he saw Virgil - which incidentally happened a lot since Roman sought him out constantly.

It was around the fourth apology that Virgil had stopped smiling and nodding and instead simply rolled his eyes or walked past Roman without a word. Roman was wont to call it rude, but he couldn’t really comment on it given his behaviour a day before. The logical conclusion was that Roman’s courageous offers were simply not pleasing to Virgil.

Upon review, Roman begrudgingly accepted that Virgil wouldn’t necessarily care much about an imaginary monster being defeated for the hundredth time, or for a statue of himself given how self-conscious he was. As for the movie nights, Roman didn’t necessarily mind that he would still have the first pick on the films, so that really wasn’t worth complaining about. He realised he had to make his repentance more personal.

And what was more personal to Virgil than his littlespace? The boy adored it when Logan and Patton took care of him so (against all instincts) Roman resolved to prove himself through caregiving. As uncomfortable as it had made him when he had attempted caregiving all those weeks ago, it seemed the most effective course of action. And wouldn’t the fact that Virgil knew he didn’t enjoy it just prove Roman’s point even more? That he was willing to go above and beyond to show Virgil how much he cared about him, despite his own discomfort!

He had waited for Logan to disappear from the kitchen to load some cookies onto a tray, along with one of Virgil’s sippy cups full to the brim with almond milk. Now, standing outside Virgil’s room, Roman smothered the inkling of dread in his stomach and rapped on the door heartily.

‘Oh, Virgil,’ he sang, ‘Will you grant me entry to your kingdom?’

There was quiet for a moment and then, muffled through the wood: ‘Only if you promise not to apologise again.’

‘Damn…’ Roman whispered to himself, taking a moment to reconsider his plan. Well, he could still practice it without technically apologising. Years of improv work hadn’t exactly taught him nothing of adapting to unexpected situations. ‘All right, I promise,’ he yelled back confidently.

‘Fine,’ Virgil groaned and Roman lowered the door handle with his hip, being careful not to jostle the tray in his hands too much.

‘Greetings, Grumpy Space Princess!’ Roman called as he waltzed into the room with a wide grin.

Virgil was lying upside down on his bed with his head hanging off of the end, his Nintendo Switch held up in front of him. ‘What’s up, Princess Bubble-head?’

Roman smiled, appreciative that Virgil was a truly worthy opponent when it came to the Great Nickname Games. Though he did not let himself dwell on that for long and internally shook himself into his role, taking heavy inspiration from Patton.

‘Nothing much, kiddo,’ he said gleefully. ‘Just thought you might want a little snack!’

‘Kiddo?’ Virgil repeated, slowly lowering the game console from his eyes. Though they were upside down, Roman clearly noted the suspicion on Virgil’s features.

Roman continued smiling regardless, walking over to the bed. ‘How’s milk and cookies sound, Vee?’

‘But we haven’t had lunch yet.’

‘Yeah, don’t tell Logan,’ Roman whispered with a conspiratorial wink

‘Is this a trick?’ Virgil immediately asked. He squinted at Roman in suspicion. ‘What did you put in the cookies?’

‘Absolutely nothing and I resent the question,’ Roman couldn’t help but gasp in offence. As if he would stoop so low as to… what, poison Virgil? He had half a mind to turn back and eat the cookies himself. If only he weren’t utterly desperate for Virgil’s forgiveness.

‘Right, no, yeah,’ Virgil hurriedly backtracked, seeming humbled. ‘Sorry.’ Then the younger side sat up and spun his butt on the bed so that he faced Roman with his legs crossed. ‘Do you wanna…’ He indicated the other side of the bed in invitation.

Roman beamed. Clearly, this was the go-ahead for his plan.

‘Thanks, Stormcloud!’ He settled onto the bed beside Virgil, placing the tray in front of them both.

‘Thanks yourself for the cookies,’ Virgil smiled meekly. His gaze trailed over to the sippy cup on the tray and his eyebrows furrowed a little.

‘Anything wrong, sw-sport?’ Roman asked, cursing himself for chickening out at the last second. He had meant to call Virgil “sweetheart” as Patton so often did. Though while he was no stranger to using the nickname during courtships, it felt strange to call Virgil by it. Still, he had a role to fill and forgiveness to earn, so he couldn’t afford another slip-up like that again.

‘Nah, it’s cool,’ Virgil muttered and reached for the sippy cup. His movements seemed halted and his eyes briefly darted between the cup and Roman for a second before he sheepishly sipped at it.

Those words again: It’s cool. They infuriated Roman! But he took a steadying breath and pushed his irritation down. He had a baby to coax out, and anger would surely be counterproductive.

He reached forward for one of the cookies and snapped it in half, then held one piece up in front of Virgil with a smile.

Virgil frowned and lowered his sippy cup from his lips. ‘You wanna share one?’

‘No, silly!’ Roman giggled, putting all of the energy he usually observed in Papa Patton into his tone. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Ready for what?’

‘Here comes the cookie train!’ Roman sang, slowly pushing the cookie forward towards Virgil’s mouth. ‘Chugga chugga choo choo!’

Virgil’s eyes widened and his free hand flew up to grab Roman’s wrist before he had a chance to press the cookie to his lips. ‘I can feed myself!’

‘Oh…’ So apparently that technique wasn’t the way to go about it. ‘Apologies,’ Roman said. He pulled the cookie piece back and shoved it between his lips.

Virgil sighed quietly and reached for the other half of the cookie. He threw it into his mouth and munched on it as he pulled his Switch into his lap, resuming the game.

Meanwhile, Roman chewed thoughtfully. Perhaps Virgil wasn’t up for a baby headspace but would rather be a young child who was still able to feed himself. Though it was uncommon for him to be in a comparatively older regressed headspace, it wasn’t unheard of. And if Virgil was not comfortable with Roman feeding him, it didn’t automatically have to be the end of his plan. But what could Roman do to make it easier? What exactly was it that Patton did differently to be able to make Virgil regress in an instant?

Roman thought back to all the times he had witnessed it happening, quickly noticing a pattern. Patton always complimented Virgil (usually by calling him “cute” or “pretty” or “my little sweet and sour dumpling”) and touched him in some way (either with a nose boop or gentle tickles or head strokes). Roman would be a fool not to apply this knowledge, and a prince was no fool.

He decided to go about a subtle route, not wanting to startle Virgil again as that would probably hinder his regression.

‘Oh, that looks like a cute game,’ Roman said casually, pointing at the console balanced on Virgil’s knee.

‘You don’t know this one?’ Virgil asked, sounding surprised. He played with one hand as his other gripped the sippy cup.

Roman leaned closer, observing the colourful, animalistic characters who walked aimlessly around what appeared to be an island resort.

‘Ohh, is this the one with the capitalist raccoon who forces you to labour all day then takes all of your money?’

Virgil snorted. ‘He’s a tanuki, not a racoon. But yeah, essentially,’ he shrugged and tipped the sippy cup up to his lips.

Roman scooted closer on the mattress, trying to initiate casual contact. His thigh brushed Virgil’s and the other didn’t seem to mind it. With an internal hurrah, Roman initiated part two of his plan B.

‘Aw, is that you?’ he asked in a slight baby-talk voice, pointing at the chibi character on the screen. They had lilac hair and were sporting a rather intricate gothic dress. (For such a basic character design Roman was massively impressed by the attention to detail on the costume. He resolved to investigate it later as he had a job to do at the present moment.)

‘Mhm,’ Virgil hummed through a mouthful of milk then swallowed, ‘that’s me.’ He twiddled the joystick so that the character did a little spin.

‘Adorable!’ Roman gushed, and it was only half put-on (the game really did look sweet). Then he turned to Virgil, glad that their faces were mere inches apart. It would surely create intimacy and trust between them and hence spur on Virgil’s headspace. ‘But y’know what’s even more adorable?’

‘What?’ Virgil questioned, turning to look at Roman then freezing. A faint look of worry graced his features, though Roman assumed he was simply nervous about regressing around Roman alone. ‘What are you -’

‘This little Virgil right here!’ Roman smiled and wiggled his fingers over Virgil’s side.

Virgil broke into muffled titters. ‘S-stop,’ he stuttered, unable to get through the word without laughing. ‘R-Ro-ho-man!’

‘Aw, listen to your little giggles,’ Roman cooed, pushing an adoring tone past the strange heaviness in his chest. He just didn’t feel right doing this. But it had to be right, Virgil was laughing and smiling and had always enjoyed it whenever Patton did the exact same.

So Roman continued. He forced his own small laugh and doubled down on the tickling, jiggling his hand quicker over Virgil’s ribs. The boy squeaked and dropped his sippy cup to the mattress. (The cup was non-spill, gladly.)

‘No-ho m-more,’ Virgil pleaded through his giggles and pushed on Roman’s wrist firmly.

‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’ On a whim, Roman went to poke Virgil’s nose with his free hand. Twice the contact probably meant twice the likelihood of regressing, going by his logic.

At the very same moment that his finger pushed forward, though, he must have unwittingly hit a sensitive spot on Virgil’s ribs because the younger side’s face unexpectedly lurched forward with a gasp. Roman’s finger ended up poking Virgil’s eye.

‘Ow!’ Virgil whined, shoving Roman’s hands away harshly. ‘What the heck, Ro?!’ He raised a hand to cover his assaulted eye while the other stared at Roman in shock.

Roman was stunned for a moment, feeling suddenly small. He had messed up again. He had hurt Virgil. Again! He just wanted their caregivers to make it better like they always did, but this was Roman’s mistake. He couldn’t always rely upon Patton and Logan when he accidentally hurt his brother. He had to learn to do it alone.

‘Shit, I -’ Roman clicked his mouth shut and shook his head. (Back into character, goddamnit!) ‘Oh, poor baby,’ he pouted in sympathy.

Virgil only looked more indignant, his hand lowering from his eye which was, thankfully, uninjured. ‘What?’

‘Don’t worry little, uh, guy.’ Roman winced at his phrasing. ‘Uncle Roman will kiss it better!’

Roman started leaning forward, his hands held out in a placating manner - though they trembled slightly.

‘Stop!’ Virgil yelled, placing his hands firmly on Roman’s shoulders and keeping him at arm’s length.

A glimmer of relief flickered in Roman’s chest.

‘What are you doing?’ Virgil asked clearly, his expression a mix of confusion, irritation, and concern.

‘I - I’m trying to kiss your boo-boo better, kiddo.’ Roman attempted to smile, though even he had to admit his acting was no longer up to scratch. He was feeling jittery. This wasn’t right!

Virgil’s eyebrows raised and he offered no further response. How on Earth did he master those nuanced expressions so well? Roman almost wanted to ask for tips.

‘Fine,’ Roman sighed, throwing his arms up into the air as he dropped the act. ‘I kinda thought maybe I could babysit you for a while.’ Despite his words, he knew the pout on his face must not have commanded much respect.

‘I…’ Virgil paused, blinking slowly. ‘Princey, you hate caregiving,’ he burst out, incredulous. ‘I thought we established that weeks ago. And anyway you’re shit at it.’

‘Charming,’ Roman grunted, crossing his arms and diverting his gaze to the mattress. He didn’t need to be good at caregiving, he didn’t even necessarily want to be good at caregiving, but he would be damned if he actually admitted to being bad at something.

‘Why are you babying me all of a sudden?’ Virgil’s voice was softer now.

‘I just wanted to make up for yesterday!’ Roman cracked, though he was conscious to not outright yell, knowing Virgil’s sensitivity to loud noises would not do him any favours. ‘I want to prove to you that I’m sorry about what I did, but you barely acknowledged my other apologies,’ he explained, annoyance seeping into his tone. Virgil’s eyes dropped to his lap. ‘And you obviously didn’t care for my other ideas for acts of chivalry, so -’ he flailed his arms around in frustration ‘- I’m making do!’

The silence in the room somehow rang louder than Roman’s outburst, and he felt a knot of embarrassment start to clench his stomach.

Before it had time to grow any bigger, Virgil spoke up: ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What?’ Roman frowned and looked back up to him. Virgil looked horribly guilty. ‘No, I think you’re confused. I’m here so that I can apologise.’

‘Yeah, I got that.’ Virgil’s lips pulled into a small smile, then it dropped again. ‘Listen… I’m sorry for being kind of flippant earlier.’ He looked down, shrugging his shoulders up to his neck and holding them there. ‘I do forgive you, I just -’ he paused and Roman noted his cheeks had turned rosy. ‘I just didn’t want us to make such a big deal out of what happened, y’know?’

‘Oh…’ Roman breathed. This type of forgiveness was unexpected (not unlike anything else that had happened that day, so really shouldn’t he have expected it to be unexpected?) but nonetheless acceptable. If Virgil truly did forgive him then that should have been enough for Roman.

‘I mean thank you for apologising. Like, twenty times,’ Virgil said hastily, clearly noticing Roman’s surprise. ‘I do appreciate it - even if I never want to experience “Uncle Roman” ever again in my life.’ He looked back up at Roman shyly, ‘But can we please just pretend it didn’t happen?’

‘Uh, yeah. Sure. It - it’s cool,’ Roman replied with a weak nod, distracted by the persistent emptiness in his chest. 

Virgil bumped their knees together amiably then went back to his game.

After a minute or so of the controller clicking and the cutesy music blaring from the small speaker, Roman realised he was still unsettled by the situation. He communicated this to Virgil in the most effective way he knew how: by groaning loudly and forlornly.

‘What is it?’ Virgil asked in his most dramatic, long-suffering whine. It was a little teasing quirk they had picked up together that was entirely well-intended. The familiarity of it made Roman feel somewhat better about admitting the issue.

‘It’s just this niggling feeling, you know?’ he asked, fully aware that Virgil did not know. ‘I have to do something. I have the rich blue blood of a prince, for heaven’s sake.’ His eyes wandered around the room as if looking for a solution to his lament. ‘If I cannot defeat a villain in your honour or commit some other brave, valiant act of -’

He paused abruptly as his eyes settled on something. A stuffed raccoon lay abandoned on the floor by Virgil’s bed, torn in two. Roman was sure he remembered Virgil naming it Meeko, after his beloved character from Pocahontas.

‘Dear Zeus, I believe I have it!’ Roman cried triumphantly.

Virgil startled at the sudden noise and Roman turned to him with an apologetic smile. The emo only looked vaguely miffed.

‘Glad you’ve reached a solution, but do you think you could have a dramatic epiphany elsewhere?’ Virgil mumbled, eyes flitting back to his screen. ‘I have debts to pay here.’

Normally it would have annoyed him to be pushed aside for no more than a video game, but luckily for Virgil, Roman had a new job to do. He just needed to sneak Meeko out unnoticed.

‘I thought you said you paid off your debts last week,’ Roman said easily, subtly dropping his leg over the edge of the bed.

‘Yeah, but now I have more,’ Virgil shrugged, unaware of Roman’s movements. ‘It’s kind of a constant in this game.’

Roman hooked his socked toes around one half of the plush on the floor and silently dragged it closer. ‘Doesn’t living in constant debt stress you out though?’ He hooked his toes around the other piece of the toy, looking carefully out of the corner of his eye.

‘It’s actually super chill. You, like, go fishing and catch bugs and stuff.’ Virgil carried on talking, though Roman’s attention was quite preoccupied. ‘And you meet these animals and invite them to your island. You’d like them, they’re really sassy.’

‘Uhuh, uhuh,’ Roman hummed noncommittally, slowly inching his hand down to grab the stuffie pieces and trying to act as if he was just itching his leg.

‘You plant flowers and craft furniture and stuff. Then there’s this cool museum.’

Roman hurriedly stuffed the plushie pieces inside his jacket, masking the movement with a cough. He hazarded a glance to Virgil, glad to see that he was completely enraptured by the game, seemingly unaware of anything that was not pixelated.

‘You can design your own clothes too, look.’ Virgil pushed the screen in front of Roman and showed that his character was now wearing an in-game replication of his signature purple and black patched hoodie.

Roman’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh my goodness, that’s brilliant,’ he whispered, partly impressed by the game, though mostly impressed by the incredible idea that just popped into his head.

‘You should totally get the game. We could play together,’ Virgil said, smiling when he brought the console back to his lap.

‘I would like that,’ Roman said sincerely. ‘Though for now, I must be off.’

He rose from the bed, being careful to keep his left arm clutched tightly to his side to avoid dropping the toy and ruining his plan. He was ready to go and settle down to hours of work, but the child in him begged him to do one last thing before he left.

‘Still brothers?’ he asked hesitantly.

Virgil immediately looked up from the screen, his expression soft around the edges. ‘Yeah,’ he said quietly with a smile. ‘Still brothers.’

‘Yes!’ Roman cheered, punching the air with his right hand. It was followed by a huff of amusement from Virgil. ‘Love you, Virge,’ Roman said offhandedly as he turned away, ready to leave at that.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Virgil mumbled.

Roman paused on his way out. He knew Virgil fairly well, having spent so much time around him during the previous few months, and so he liked to think he had a fairly decent amalgamation of the varying tones of Virgil’s mumbles and what they meant. The wheezy ones showed distress, the stunted ones showed annoyance, the lowest ones showed reluctant happiness. This particular brand of mumble, quiet and high-pitched, projected Virgil’s embarrassment. And honestly what kind of big brother would Roman be if he missed such a harmless opportunity for teasing?

He spun back around with a smirk which only grew wider when Virgil saw it and groaned.

‘Say it,’ Roman insisted, holding back a laugh.

‘Go ‘way,’ Virgil whined, pulling his console up to cover his face, though Roman could still spy the blush peeking from behind it.

‘Aww, come on.’ Roman stepped closer to the bed, giggling when Virgil brought the Switch so close to his face that it touched his nose. ‘You said it yesterday,’ Roman sing-songed, kneeling down right in front of Virgil on the bed.

‘Then you shouldn’t need to hear it again,’ Virgil grumbled.

‘Oh, but I’ve forgotten what the pure adoration in your voice sounded like,’ Roman teased, reaching forward to lower the gadget from Virgil’s face. He bit his tongue in amusement when Virgil glared at him past bright pink cheeks. ‘How did you say it? “Wuvoo, Wo-Wo”?’

‘You’re no longer welcome in my kingdom.’

Roman shrugged, still being careful to keep his left arm secure over the stuffed racoon in his jacket. He swivelled his legs to plop down onto the bed.

‘Not leaving until you say it,’ he proclaimed proudly.

Virgil growled (adorably) and dropped the console to the bed, crossing his arms. An unintelligible mumble left his lips.

‘Hm, what was that?’ Roman asked with a giddy smile. He held his ear forward with his free hand. ‘I couldn’t quite hear -’

‘I love you, you weirdo!’ Virgil said loudly, seemingly agitated, though Roman knew there was no real heat behind it (he was well-versed in recognising Virgil’s playful irritation versus his real, leave-me-alone-right-now-or-suffer irritation). ‘Now get out of my room.’

Roman stood and bowed regally, ‘As you wish, Princess Bitter-cup.’

Something small and soft was hurled at his head.

‘Wow,’ Roman chuckled, picking up the tiny giraffe stuffie from the floor with his free hand and chucking it back onto Virgil’s toy pile. ‘Even when you’re a bitch you’re adorable.’

The pout on Virgil’s face was not a dangerous one so Roman winked. He sauntered off towards the door, finally satisfied that the guilty fog in his head had blown away. ‘See you later, lil bro.’

‘Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, big bro,’ Virgil responded sarcastically behind him.

Roman gasped, turning back around in the open doorway. ‘Umm, rude much - Ahh!’ He had to hurriedly jump back into the hallway to avoid being hit in the face by the door, which had suddenly slammed shut.

Waiting a moment for his heart to stop beating so hard from the spike of adrenaline, Roman heard muffled laughter coming from the bedroom. He scoffed and shook his head.

One of their house rules was to not use their metaphysical powers in the mindscape unless entirely unavoidable. Logan reserved his powers for actual emergencies, such as when the kitchen had set on fire. Patton only stretched the rules a little by using his powers to clean parts of the house that were difficult to reach or otherwise highly inconvenient. Roman used his powers only for absolute dire needs, such as summoning medical aid after an arduous adventure in the imagination (though on one occasion he had summoned puppies for desperately-needed snuggles). And Virgil, coming from years of living with the Other sides who used no such rule in their establishment, respected the rule for the most part, though renounced it on occasion in favour of performing relatively harmless pranks.

Roman could have tattled on him to Logan, though they had only just reconciled, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been the wisest decision. Plus, the next few hours of his time were decidedly booked.

He made his way down the hallway, already drawing up designs in his head. Being so inspired by his ingenious ideas, he almost bumped right into Logan at the top of the stairs.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Roman muttered, wondering how many more times he would utter that word that day. 

When Roman looked up, he was unsurprised to see that Patton stood right beside Logan. The two had been almost inseparable for the past two weeks when they weren’t caring for Roman and Virgil, and Roman was absolutely enamoured by their adorable attempts at keeping their budding relationship on the subtle side. They were obviously failing miserably.

What he was surprised to see, however, was a very large cardboard box huddled in both of Logan’s arms. ‘What’s in the box, specs?’

Logan and Patton looked at each other with unreadable expressions, then turned back to Roman and spoke simultaneously:

‘Stationery.’

‘What box?’

The two looked back at each other with wide eyes. Roman frowned, mind reeling with what two people in a new relationship could possibly buy together, have delivered in discreet packaging, and not want to tell - actually yeah, he didn’t want to think about that. 

‘Well, that was disturbing.’ Roman cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact as he hurried past them. ‘Forget I asked,’ he called back.

He had no time to worry about their stumbled defences. His sewing machine awaited!

oOo

Later that afternoon, Logan readjusted his position on the couch and crossed his legs with a sigh. He was feeling unusually restless. 

Patton and he had efficiently hidden their package some hours previously, thankful that Virgil did not witness their secrecy. It was all for his benefit, though the anxious side could be suspicious at the best of times. They could not afford for his defences to be raised any higher than they were already bound to be for the conversation they had planned.

As Logan waited, he breathed evenly, hoping to dispel his nerves before the other two joined him. Patton had left the room a minute previously to fetch Virgil for the chat.

There was no use in feeling nervous about it, Logan knew. It was only a conversation and truly there was nothing threatening about that. Still, the idea that Virgil could be upset by it disturbed Logan somewhat. He could not predict how the regressor would react to what they had to say. Though, as he so often said to Virgil, unpredictability should not be cause for worry. He took a steadying breath and uncrossed his legs.

Within a few moments, the door to the living room eased open and Patton stepped into the room with a quick nervous smile at Logan. After he had entered, Virgil shuffled in behind him, scratching at his hoodie sleeves and chewing his lip. Logan crossed his legs again.

‘Virgil, have a seat,’ Logan said gently, indicating the spot beside him on the couch. Patton had settled in the armchair.

Virgil’s eyes darted between both of them and the seat in quick succession.

‘You are not in trouble,’ Logan said, hoping that his smile was reassuring.

With a shaky sigh, Virgil perched on the end of the couch. He had sat as far from Logan as he possibly could.

‘Patton said you, uh, you wanted to talk about something?’ Virgil muttered.

‘Yes,’ Logan said. He internally made a note to talk to Patton about open-ended requests and how they could exacerbate Virgil’s anxiety, though pushed the matter aside for now. He carefully angled his body toward Virgil, trying to use more engaging body language as he could sense Virgil might try to close himself off. ‘We need to talk about your recent bathroom issues.’

As predicted, Virgil wrapped his arms tightly around himself and sunk further into the couch. Though he didn’t try to leave (for which Logan was grateful). ‘Oh.’

‘You are aware that Patton spoke to me about you two’s discussion, are you not?’

The question was met with a slight nod from Virgil. Logan did not miss the tremble in his fingers which clawed at his hoodie sleeves.

‘Virgil, I’d like to remind you that neither Patton nor I are in any way angry or disappointed with you,’ Logan said, knowing that Virgil’s anxiety must have been wreaking havoc in his mind.

‘Absolutely not,’ Patton agreed fervently. ‘We love you so much, Stormcloud. This doesn’t change that.’

‘Okay.’ Virgil did not meet either of their gazes. ‘Can I leave now?’

Logan sighed, knowing the conversation was bound to be difficult given Virgil’s attitude. ‘That wasn’t what we wanted to talk about.’

Virgil slumped in defeat.

‘I told Logan about everything you said to me yesterday,’ Patton started gently, ‘and we think we might have a solution to -’

‘You can fix it?’ Virgil asked, finally raising his gaze from his lap to look at Logan pleadingly.

Guilt flooded the logical side. It was not often Virgil felt hopeful about anything. In fact, Logan and the others had been trying to convince him to accept more optimism into his thought process, though unfortunately in this situation it had to be shot down.

‘Not exactly.’ At the look of hurt in Virgil’s eyes, Logan had to contain a wince. ‘You cannot always fix something,’ he explained. ‘Sometimes, the situation is unavoidable and the only option is to adapt.’

 ‘Adapt?’ Virgil echoed uncertainly.

Logan’s eyes inched over to Patton. They had agreed it might be more agreeable for Virgil to hear the suggestion from his lips.

‘Sweetheart,’ Patton said gently, ‘how would you feel if whenever you regressed you wore a diaper?’

‘No!’ Virgil immediately yelled, his voice cracking.

Logan shared a quick, bewildered look with Patton.

‘No, no, no, no, no,’ Virgil rambled frantically, his hands fisting in the cushion beneath him. Logan was shocked by the abject horror on the younger side’s face. ‘No, I can’t! I can’t, no, no -’

‘Honey, honey, stop. It’s all right,’ Patton hurried to soothe him, holding his hands up in surrender. ‘It’s completely okay if you don’t want to wear one.’

Patton was correct. It would have been completely acceptable had Virgil not wanted to try diapers. But - Logan noted with curiosity - Virgil had not said he didn’t want to. He had said he can’t. The small slip-up suggested that (even if only on a subconscious level) Virgil perceived the concept as unattainable, as opposed to undesirable. Logan felt an obligation to investigate further.

‘Why?’ he asked simply.

‘Logan,’ Patton whispered sharply, sending him a reprimanding look.

‘I won’t have any more accidents, I promise!’

Both caregivers looked back at Virgil in surprise.

‘Virgil,’ Logan said carefully, wary of the panic in Virgil’s eyes, ‘we understand that you do not do it on purpose, hence the term “accident”. We all know now that when you are regressed you cannot control it. Now I am sorry, but you simply cannot keep that promise.’

Virgil squirmed in place, his whole posture tense and alert. ‘Th-then I won’t regress anymore.’

Patton gasped, and Logan could hardly blame him. Though Logan had been prepared for Virgil to turn down the idea, the intensity of his reaction was entirely unforeseen.

‘Why would you say that, Virgil?’ Patton whispered, sounding heartbroken.

Virgil was trembling. He clearly had no answer. Though Logan was not convinced he would be able to reply even if he did have one.

‘Your regression is not voluntary.’ Logan spoke in a calm, low voice. ‘You have no say in whether it happens or not. You yourself told us this.’ He frowned in confusion. Virgil’s reaction was so fraught that it seemed to be inflicting his capacity for rational thinking.

To his vague relief, Virgil did appear to have gotten through the worst of his panic, though he still glanced between Patton and Logan nervously. ‘I can hide in my room,’ he suggested shakily. ‘I won’t bother you anymore, I’m sorry for burdening you, I -’

‘Stop,’ Logan said firmly. He could not bear to listen to the anxiety-driven drivel any longer. ‘I want you to take a deep breath.’

Virgil did just that, and the result was instantaneous. As he exhaled, his shoulders dropped from his neck and his hands eased their grip on the couch.

‘Good, keep going,’ Logan murmured, sharing a concerned look with Patton as Virgil took another shaky breath. When Logan had deemed it safe to do so, he continued.

‘We do not want you to hide in your room,’ he said clearly, being cautious to keep his tone gentle. ‘You do not need to hide your regression from us. You are not a burden.’

Virgil bit his lip but did not protest.

‘You could never be a burden,’ Patton said softly. By the jitteriness of his fingertips, Logan could tell that Patton was eager to reach out and hold Virgil, though he held back. ‘Please don’t hide this part of yourself again, sweetheart. You don’t need to.’

Even as his silence persisted, Virgil gave a stiff nod.

Now that Virgil had calmed down, for the most part, Logan launched into his investigation.

‘Could you perhaps explain why you are so adamantly against the idea of using diapers?’ It was met with bewildered looks of varying intensity from both of the others, so Logan elaborated, ‘In no circumstance would we ever force you into doing something against your will. That is not my intention for this conversation. I would merely like to examine your thought process surrounding the concept.’

Virgil looked imploringly to Patton, though was only met with an apologetic smile and nod.

‘Virgil,’ Logan called softly and was hurt to see the look of betrayal that turned onto him. ‘Please.’

He insisted on holding Virgil’s gaze until the younger side looked away with a sigh.

‘I just…’ Virgil pulled his knees up to his chest in a defensive pose. ‘It’s just weird,’ he mumbled.

Good, they could at least get somewhere with that.

‘Sweetie, it’s not -’

Logan held his hand up, silencing Patton. Though the reassurance was well-intended, Logan believed that simply disparaging Virgil’s views would be ineffective. They had to address the root cause of the issue.

‘And why is it weird?’ Logan prompted.

Virgil’s brow furrowed and he looked up at Logan with wide eyes, apparently (unreasonably) taken aback by the simple question.

‘I-I dunno,’ he said hesitantly. ‘Adults shouldn’t need -’

‘Some adults require incontinence products.’ Logan nipped that train of thought in the bud right away. ‘It is beyond their control, and yet you would call it weird?’

‘N-no!’ Virgil hurriedly defended. ‘No, of course not. That’s not - I meant I shouldn’t need… those.’

Logan muffled the growing satisfaction in his chest as they inched closer to the crux of the problem. ‘And why is it weird for you specifically and not those other adults?’

Virgil’s arms squeezed around his legs, pulling them tighter against his chest. ‘Because it’s, um, not a medical issue?’ he asked quietly, seeming more uncertain of his own argument with each passing second.

‘That is unimportant,’ Logan said. ‘Regardless of the cause, you are still unable to control your bladder on occasion.’

The tension in Virgil’s posture was painfully visible, as was the growing flush to his cheeks.

‘So, I will ask you again.’ Logan scooted himself slightly closer to Virgil on the couch, hoping that the closeness would bring Virgil some kind of comfort. He did not move away. ‘Why would it be weird for you to wear diapers if it is not weird for anyone else to do the same?’

Virgil blinked quickly and opened his mouth. Then he shut it, blinked, looked to his knees, opened his mouth, and shut it again. After a repeat of this cycle, he groaned quietly and buried his face against his knees.

‘You cannot think of an answer because it is an incorrect statement,’ Logan said. Looking at Virgil’s hunched form, he realised that being proven right was not nearly as satisfactory when it caused such distress to someone he loved. ‘I can assure you that your worries surrounding this matter are unfounded.’

‘He’s right, Virgil,’ Patton added. ‘You don’t need to be embarrassed about this, it’s all right.’

Virgil shook his head, though his face was still concealed by his knees. ‘Is not.’

‘It is,’ Logan insisted. ‘Your mental state regresses to that of a toddler’s, so why should we expect every aspect of your physical state to be any different? A toddler cannot be expected to have such a high command over their body.’

‘But I should,’ Virgil argued weakly into his jeans.

‘Not when you’re regressed, sweetheart,’ Patton said. ‘You’re just a baby, you can’t -’

‘I’m not a baby, I’m a pervert!’ Virgil shouted, his head snapping up from his knees fiercely.

Logan’s breath rushed from his lungs, his stomach lurching at such intense self-deprecation coming from the person he had come to see as his child.

‘Stormcloud…’ Patton whispered, sounding close to tears.

Virgil beat him to it. His “sweater paws” (that had been a highly useful vocab card) scrubbed harshly at the tears that fell to his cheeks. The image made Logan’s heart sink.

‘I’m a freak,’ Virgil mumbled into his sleeve. ‘I’m just gross and messed up and attention-seeking and…’ His voice had become squeaky and broken before he trailed off.

‘Baby, no, no, no,’ Patton cooed sadly and rushed to his side at break-neck speed. Squeezing in to sit between the regressor and the armrest, Patton wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulders and pulled him to lean against his side. ‘Virgil, honey, none of that is true. None of it.’

Virgil sniffled as Patton kissed his head.

Following Patton’s lead, Logan closed the distance between them on the couch. He placed one hand on Virgil’s knee and squeezed while his other settled on Patton’s forearm gently.

‘Please understand that there is absolutely nothing wrong with your regression or with how your body reacts to it,’ Logan pleaded, feeling strangely helpless. He had been so certain that Virgil knew his regression was valid. What had changed to make him spout this nonsense? ‘As you have informed us and as I have ascertained from my own research, age regression is by its very nature entirely non-sexual.’

Virgil nodded against Patton’s shoulder.

‘It is and always has been a natural state for you,’ Logan went on, sure that Virgil was aware of this already.

As suspected, Virgil nodded again.

Logan frowned. Where could this all have been coming from? ‘And you are aware that it is highly beneficial to your emotional wellbeing.’

‘Yeah,’ Virgil said, his voice wet and choked.

‘And you enjoy it!’ Patton said, injecting joy into his words. Logan saw how his arms tightened around Virgil’s form. ‘That’s as good a reason as any.’

Once more, Virgil nodded.

Logan considered why Virgil might have had such a sudden change of heart towards his view of age regression. It was, of course, possible that he had simply kept these views hidden up until that moment, though they had addressed his insecurities surrounding the matter on multiple occasions over the past three months. With a heavy heart, Logan realised that if these opinions had not originated from Virgil himself, they had to have originated elsewhere and been figuratively drilled into him.

‘Who called you those words, Virgil?’ Logan asked delicately. 

Virgil angled his head further into Patton’s shoulder in avoidance.

It was an unusual experience, watching the realisation dawn on Patton’s face. His eyes lost their joyful sparkle and his concerned expression melted into one of pure indignation and - most uncharacteristically - rage. The moral side pushed gently at Virgil’s shoulders, getting him to sit upright to reveal his face.

‘Who was it?’ Patton asked, his voice shaking with what Logan suspected was carefully concealed anger.

Virgil hunched in his seat and met Logan’s eyes for a split second before hurriedly looking down at his knees. ‘No one.’

‘Falsehood,’ Logan said sternly. He did not want to make Virgil anxious at all by prying, but he could not afford for this topic of conversation to be shrugged off so easily. ‘Who was it?’

With a deep, shaky sigh, Virgil rested his chin on his knees and muttered, ‘I mean no one I know.’

Patton sent a confused look to Logan over the head of purple hair.

‘Could you please elaborate?’ Logan asked.

A moment of silence passed, and just as Logan was preparing to ask again, Virgil inhaled sharply, paused, and then spoke.

‘A couple weeks ago I made a Tumblr post about my regression.’ Virgil’s voice was quiet enough that Logan had to strain to hear it. ‘About how I wasn’t ashamed of it anymore and - and about you guys,’ Virgil said. He tugged at a strand of his hair harshly.

Logan reached out and smoothed his fingers over Virgil’s hand, convincing him to release the hair. Their hands both dropped to the couch cushion, remaining joined at Logan’s insistence. He understood where the conversation was heading. ‘I am aware that there is an anonymous question function on Tumblr.’

Virgil’s fingers twitched against Logan’s palm. ‘S-someone kept sending asks saying it was just a… a fetish and telling me I was sick and weird and -’ he cut off with an audible gulp, ‘and a bunch of other stuff.’

‘They’re wrong,’ Patton stated without room for argument. Logan saw the muscle in his jaw jumping. ‘They - I can’t believe someone would -’ His voice was incredibly strained and it strangled his words so much that Patton seemed to almost gag over them. He blew out a harsh breath, the sound something akin to a hiss. ‘This is ridiculous.’

Patton was shaking with the effort to contain his reaction and looked about ready to burst. Glancing down, Logan realised with a hint of concern that Virgil was looking at Patton in surprise and, unfortunately, appeared to be nervous.

‘Patton,’ Logan said, ‘I want you to take a moment to -’

‘No, Logan!’ Patton whispered harshly, red in the face. He snatched his arm off from Virgil then clenched his fists in his lap. ‘They’re bullies. Horrible, mean, cruel bullies. I just don’t understand why!’ he broke into a shout. Virgil flinched and leaned into Logan’s side. ‘Why the hell would someone want to - I mean, how could - To our baby!’

Logan was in full agreement to everything that Patton was saying (even if most of it had to be read between the lines since he seemed so enraged that he could hardly get a full sentence out). But - Logan noted, seeing that Virgil was staring at his lap in shame - this was neither the time nor the place to display aggression. 

‘Patton,’ Logan said more firmly, ‘I understand you are angry, but please be wary of the sensitivity of this situation. I am sure Virgil would appreciate calm right now.’

‘I don’t mind.’ Virgil sounded feeble at best.

‘Angry?’ Patton repeated incredulously, actually looking at Logan in shock. ‘I - I’m not angry, I’m just…’ He went silent, the fire dissipating from his eyes and being replaced by uncertainty. Then he whispered, all heat faded from his tone, ‘I’m not angry.’

Logan nodded slowly. It was evident Patton was having trouble identifying his negative emotions, though Logan did not feel it right to divert the purpose of the conversation. He would have to delay the talk with Patton until after they had resolved Virgil’s issue, especially since he suspected Virgil would not open up so readily a second time.

‘Now, Virgil,’ Logan said. He looked at Patton pointedly, conveying that they had to get back to the task at hand. Patton nodded, the tension finally dispelling from his form. ‘These strangers online do not see how this coping mechanism helps you.’ Logan squeezed the younger side’s fingers slightly, earning his attention through a hesitant glance. ‘Their opinions are uninformed and therefore worthless.’

‘I’m sorry, sweetie,’ Patton breathed. He was curled into himself slightly, clearly embarrassed by his loss of control. ‘I didn’t mean to - these people are clearly very damaged,’ he said the word as if it were a substitute for harsher language, ‘and, for whatever reason, they only wanted to hurt you.’ He cautiously wrapped his arm back around Virgil’s shoulders. ‘Those kinds of people don’t have any authority over you or your regression.’

‘I guess not,’ Virgil said. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, melting into Patton’s touch.

Logan sighed in faint relief, glad that Virgil no longer seemed intimidated by Patton’s outburst. ‘It is a futile task in pandering to these idiots’ prejudices. Your regression makes you happy and so it is indisputably perfect.’

The words earned him a soft smile from Virgil and Logan felt his own expression soften at the sight.

‘Thank you,’ Virgil said with finality.

‘Though,’ Logan started, something still eating away at him, ‘it remains unclear how these bullies made you feel bad about needing diapers specifically.’

Virgil bit his lip, then looked back at the floor. ‘I - I wanted to try them a while ago,’ he whispered.

From the look on Patton’s face, it seemed Logan was not alone in his surprise.

‘It was just so scary whenever I had an accident!’ Virgil quickly defended. ‘I - I didn’t know what else to do. I was stupid and -’

‘Try again,’ Patton interrupted with a squeeze on Virgil’s shoulder.

‘I was dumb and -’

‘Again.’

‘I… was uninformed and didn’t know how to buy them. So I made a post asking for advice.’ Virgil rushed through the words as if wanting them to be over as soon as possible. ‘Then there was a bunch of asks saying it was disgusting and pathetic and hilarious and -’

‘Imbeciles,’ Logan growled loudly, though took a steadying breath and left it at that. He would absolutely be having a chat with Patton later so they could release their frustrations in private, away from Virgil.

‘None of that is true,’ Patton said softly. ‘Do you remember what Logan said about toddlers not being expected to have such a high level of bodily control?’

Virgil nodded.

‘You aren’t aware of yourself when you’re regressed, so you have to trust us when we tell you that when you’re in that headspace you really are a toddler.’ Patton said it slowly and deliberately, not giving Virgil a chance to dispute the words.

Virgil looked up at Logan, seeking confirmation.

‘It was astonishing to experience at first,’ Logan said, ‘but I cannot deny it. It truly is remarkable. And wonderful,’ he added truthfully.

Patton nodded enthusiastically and guided Virgil’s head to look back at him with gentle fingers. ‘As surprising as it was, we can tell it’s very real and natural.’ Patton kissed Virgil’s head. ‘There is absolutely nothing about your regression or your body that’s wrong in any way. Do you understand that now?’

Virgil stalled for a few seconds, though when he finally spoke, Logan could hear it was sincere. ‘Yeah. I think so.’

‘And I’m so proud of you for trying to help yourself, honey.’ Patton pulled Virgil into a tighter hug. ‘I’m sorry we weren’t there to look after you back then.’

‘But you are now… right?’ Virgil pulled away from Patton and peered shyly between both of them.

‘Of course we are,’ Patton replied instantly.

Logan felt a swell of pride and love overtake him. ‘We always will be.’

Virgil hid a smile behind his sweater paw.

‘Kiddo… can you maybe turn off the anonymous option on your blog?’ Patton asked hesitantly, reaching out to card his fingers through the length of Virgil’s hair. ‘I don’t wanna control what you do but it really worries me that these strangers could make you feel so bad about yourself.’

‘Already did,’ Virgil mumbled.

Logan saw that the tip of Virgil’s thumb had found its way to his lips. He was not surprised that Virgil appeared to be slipping into his regression; it had been a distressing conversation for him.

‘Clever boy,’ Patton praised, lightly pinching Virgil’s cheek. He must have noticed the slip too.

A shy smile wormed its way onto Virgil’s features.

Patton gasped dramatically. ‘Oh my, there’s suddenly an adorable baby in the room! Where did he come from?’

The thumb that had rested on Virgil’s lips now pressed between them. Logan recognised the light blush on Virgil’s cheeks as indicative of his impending infantile headspace.

‘Before you regress completely,’ Logan said quickly, wanting to be concise lest he miss the remaining moments of Virgil’s adult mindset. ‘Will you please reconsider our suggestion? We have already purchased some diapers for you as a precautionary measure and I think it will be a good idea for you to wear one today.’

‘I think so too, sweetheart,’ Patton added softly. ‘Just to see how it feels.’ 

Virgil hummed, though it might have been a muffled whimper.

‘There is no pressure to agree at all. Similarly, if you do attempt it but dislike it then there is no need to continue.’ Logan hoped to reassure any of Virgil’s doubts that might have been inhibiting what was clearly curiosity, perhaps even desire. ‘Though I believe it will at the very least be worth a try.’

Virgil genuinely seemed to consider it.

‘Remember, we’re only doing this to help you feel safe, Stormcloud,’ Patton whispered, running his knuckle against Virgil’s cheek.

Logan gently took hold of Virgil’s hand and eased it away from his mouth so that his thumb left his lips. Virgil pouted at him, though Logan ignored it in favour of asking, ‘What would you like to do, Virgil?’

To Logan’s astonishment, he nodded.

‘Try,’ Virgil said, his voice babyish and muted.

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

AO3 link | Next chapter

NOTE: Massive thanks to my friend Duckie for reading over the first draft of this chapter, giving me notes and cheering me on, it wouldn’t be the same without her! You can find her adorable age dreaming tumblr here: @duckies-little-pond​ 🐣💛

[benevolentcalamity]

Do you believe in the boogeyman?

“You can’t escape me.”

“[Name]!”

You look up from your toy friends, smiling guiltily at seeing your father’s face peer up from the closed blankets making up the tent you made. He doesn’t seem pleased, but he doesn’t look mad for too long.

“Didn’t I tell you to go to sleep an hour ago, goofball?”

You pout. “I’m being super quiet-!”

“Yes, I know, but it’s time to go to bed now.” He reaches, softly taking your flashlight from you, lifting you up and putting you on his hip. With his other hand, he unplugs the fairy lights, turning on your nightlight and putting you in bed. “We have a really important day tomorrow!”

You grin. “We go Chugga-Chee?” You ask. He laughs.

“No, squirt, we’re gonna go to mommy’s,” He corrects, to which you almost bounce even if laying down. “She’s gonna be really happy to see you!”

“Yaaay!” You cheer.

“Maybe, if you be a good girl and get some good sleep, we’ll go to your favorite place together, just the three of us. But get some sleep, okay?” He gently strokes your head.

You nod. “Okay, daddy.”

“Okay. Goodnight, sweetheart - daddy loves you.” He stands, softly waving to you as he goes toward the door, smiling.

“I love you too, daddy.” But before you find yourself falling asleep, you shoot back up, feeling a bit cold. “Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“What if the boogeyman comes?”

He turns back to you from the door, pointing towards your nightlight. “The boogeyman hates light, sweetie,” He says. “But if he still tries to bother you, you can shine your flashlight at him, and then you can come sleep with daddy, okay?”

You nod, tugging up your covers a little.

Dad smiles. “You’re a big girl now, [Name]. Big girls can fight off the boogeyman.”

“I’m a big girl!” You echo, puffing your chest out, smiling proudly.

He chuckles. “That’s right, goofy. Now get some rest - we have a big day tomorrow.”

You nod, sinking back down into the covers. “Goodnight, daddy.”

“Goodnight, squirt.”

---

“[Mother’s name], you know what we talked about.” Dad shifts his weight onto one foot. “It’s not safe for [Name] here... Yes, I know! That’s why I have to stay - I’m a Hero, too, and I have to try and solve things before the League reaches too far. I don’t wanna know what will happen if they get their hands on [Name]... Maybe I’m just worrying too much...”

He glances outside. There’s a soft scent of smoke in the air, sending a chill twisting his stomach. “Honey? I think you’ll be just fine. [Name]’s only six, but she’s strong. I’m just glad these arrangements don’t seem to bother her - it’s for the best that she doesn’t know what’s going on. It’d be too cruel to tell her; she won’t understand.”

Sighing, he nods. “I know... I know she has to know at some point, but not right now. How’s [Sister’s Name] doing? ... Good. It’s good to know she’s finding work now. Her Quirk’s really good in her field; she’ll be a great asset even without being a Hero.”

A banging noise jolts him from the calm of the conversation, and his eyes shoot around the house as he hears something break. “... Honey, I’ve got to go, something’s wrong. I’m gonna go check on [Name], okay? ... I know... Bye.”

Hanging up, he bites his lip, putting the phone back on the charger. Rolling up his sleeves, turning to go up the steps. Before he goes to see what’s going on, his priority is making sure you’re safe.

“Heh... Now ain’t that sweet?”

He whirls around, bringing his hands up as the plants in the pots start moving and curling in preparation.

“Playing happy families like you’ve still got yours, selfishly finding ways to bend the law so you can see yours. Aren’t ya supposed to be the strong man, letting both your kids be with someone who deserves ‘em?”

The voice’s source steps into the light of the moon, his skin, purple and pale patches stitched grossly together, crinkling with his smirk. Sapphire blue eyes twinkle with sick amusement as blue flames flicker in his palms, his dark coat blowing dramatically with his movement.

Dad’s brows furrow together. “You...”

The young man’s smirk grows into a grin. “Oh ho, you remember me? I’m so flattered. Wasn’t all that pleased when you wiped the floor with some of our guys, I gotta tell ya.”

“I was protecting people,” Dad snaps. “Those people had no business being there - you had no right to set your goons on them.”

“We were lookin’ for recruits.” He fiddles with one of his staples. “I don’t see why you’re so hung up on people that don’t matter to you. That’s what they are to all of you-”

“Silence!” Dad’s plants reach out more. “You know full well their lives have value! Even someone who appears like they have no loved ones, there’s always someone that’ll miss them.” One wraps around his wrist as he reaches out. “How dare you call yourselves “true heroes” when you kill people for no reason!”

“Careful now,” The opposition points toward the stairs. “You wouldn’t want your precious daughter hearing this, would you? I’d suggest you keep your voice down.” Suddenly his grin falls. “I’m sick of listening to your self-righteousness. You heroes like to talk and talk about how the world is suffering and how you can cure it... how all of us villains are wrong just for existing.”

Reaching out, he sets his hand ablaze. “Why don’t we settle this? ... What’s wrong? Scared your little princess will wake up? You’d do anything to protect her, right? So quit being a coward... and fight me!”

...

You wake up to a faint sound of banging, the smell of smoke in the air. At first, you’re thinking someone’s just decided to burn leaves nearby to not disturb anyone, given it’s what dad tells you a lot.

But even your small self knows: something’s not right. Why would they do it at night? You just needed to know it was that, and so...

Slowly, you shift out of your bed, your bare feet hitting the cold wood floor and momentarily stilling you from the chill. Reaching, you grip your flashlight close to your heart, pitter-pattering over to the door, getting on your tippy-toes to open it up. Peeking your head out, you shine your flashlight into the awaiting hallway.

“... Daddy?”

As if on cue, you hear a loud noise, followed by a fwoom!, and you jump, feeling terrible shivers.

“[Name]-!”

“Daddy?!”

Not knowing any better, you rush to the steps, though in your fear you miss one, and go tumbling down into awaiting heat and bright light. Your flashlight still in your fist, you cough a bit as you shakily try to get back on your feet.

But opening your eyes, you see something you never thought you would see.

Blue fire - like you saw once in the storybooks mom would read to you during your stays with her - is burning the furniture, travelling like ants. The sight itself has you losing your hearing for a moment, but only for a moment. But then you’re ripped back into focus by dad’s screams.

“[Name]!!!” He sounds like he’s in horrible pain. “[Name], run! It’s the- It’s the boogeyman!”

Looking quickly, you see a figure - illuminated by the flames but not so much that you can see their face. Remembering what he said before putting you to bed, you point your flashlight at them, flashing them. But the sight, more grotesque than a monster, has you dropping it.

The stitched together skin, the emotionlessness in the eyes... It’s a real monster! It is the Boogeyman!

Dad’s screams die out too soon for you to think clearly, but once the figure takes a step toward you, you let out the loudest screech you ever let out in your short life, turning and running up the stairs. Thunderous thumping shakes the house, but you keep running until you’re in your room. Locking the door, you run and jump into bed, burying yourself in your covers, hugging yourself, your tears creating a puddle below your head before you realize how much you’re sobbing.

“Mommy-!” You wail. “Mommy, mommy, mommy-!”

A sound like a crack, then a thump.

“Just a dream, just a dream... Go away... go away...” You grip your teddy bear from the floor and hug him tightly, pinching yourself relentlessly. “... Disappear...”

Your arm’s throbbing from the pinching, but you keep doing it, willing the nightmare to be over and for daddy to scoop you up in his arms like he usually did whenever you had bad dreams.

Still shaking from your crying, you hug your teddy even as you hear the sound of your door cracking, then breaking. The distant crackling sound is drowned out by the footsteps slowly approaching you, and in your innocence you reach out to remove the blankets, just wanting dad to hug you.

Suddenly, the blankets are ripped off, and the blue eyes of a terrible creature look back at you, illuminated by your now flickering nightlight.

You open your mouth to scream, but the rough hand of the creature covers your face, and suddenly smoke fills your mouth and nose. Coughing relentlessly against its skin, you feel your consciousness fading from you as the creature leans to your ear.

“If the day comes where you want revenge, squirt... I’ll be waiting.”

You’re wrapped like a burrito into your fleece blanket.

“She’s safe, just like you wanted. Thanks for your sacrifice, Father Nature.”

...

...

...

The sound of sirens is piercing your ears, and you come to as you’re unrolled. You’re still coughing something terrible, but you have clean air again. A large pair of hands lifts you up until you’re sitting, and you open your eyes a bit, peering upwards through your eyelashes.

“Daddy...?”

Your vision clears, and what’s waiting isn’t dad, but the soft face of a blonde lady with bat wings on her head. Upon seeing you’re awake, she gives you a gentle smile.

“Hey, cutie,” She sweetly greets.

You get up, looking around. The flashing red and blue lights disorient you a bit, but you find yourself escaping her soft hands and rushing away - her calls to you don’t reach. You run between pro heroes and emergency people, looking desperately for your daddy or at least hear him calling out to you.

Putting your hands up, you yell desperately, “DADDY!!!” No answer. “DDDAAAAAADDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!”

A tall figure approaches you, scooping you up. Immediately, you’re squirming, pushing at the person’s face and continuing to look around, tears pouring down your eyes.

“No!!! No, no no!!! I want daddy!!!” You scream. “Daddy! DADDY! DAAADDDYYYYY!!!”

Your screaming doesn’t stop, but does eventually turn to violent sobbing despite the efforts of the pros to calm you down.

“Daddy-! I want my daddy!” You wail, burying your face into your holder’s neck, the denim of his clothes reminiscent of dad’s jeans.

“I know, sweetheart,” The man says softly, stroking your hair. “I know.”

You sniffle. “The boogeyman-!”

“Boogeyman...?” A nearby woman asks. “... Oh...”

“We need to get her to the hospital,” He says. “It’s not safe for her here, and we need to make sure nothing’s wrong.”

“Right.”

He softly hands you over to someone, and you look up through your tears to see a woman in a uniform - her hat looks silly - carrying you now.

“Hi, sweetie,” She says softly. “We’re gonna take you to a doctor now, okay?” She gently wipes at your cheeks as she sets you on something really comfy, and walks beside you as you’re rolled away. “You’re safe now... It’s okay, sweet pea...”

...

“She’ll need to be here for a few days so we can make sure nothing’s wrong,” The beeping from the machines doesn’t distract you, nor does the cartoon on the TV. “We did manage to get in contact with her mother, so she’ll be here to pick her up.”

These pink clothes stink...

“What’s going to happen to her house? Does this seem like another attack?”

“No question in my mind. The League of Villains was most definitely targeting Father Nature... It’s sick, honestly, that they chose now to strike. They hit where it hurts.”

“...”

“For right now, the trauma’s surely going to stick for quite a while... If anything, this should be all the more reason we need to deal with them quickly. This poor child’s been through too much already - we need to work quickly, so she can finally be at peace.”

“... Poor thing.”

Curling up on your side, you only momentarily peek at the cartoon’s reflection on the window before closing your eyes tightly, hugging a stuffed bunny as you cry yourself to sleep.

“Daddy...!”

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 6

Road Trip! Since the Elric’s need repairs (mostly Ed, since normally I think he could fix most anything with his Alchemy, but without his arm he can’t do it), they’re off to visit Winry. Let’s get started!

Narrator’s talking about how Scar went after Ed, and how our little baby was ready to accept death (cue heartbreaking shot of Al struggling to get up and stop him), but Colonel Roy Mustang intervened (or rather, Riza saved the Colonel's life and The Mighty Armstrong distracted Scar). The Elric Brothers realized the joy of being alive and were filled with Determination and decide to head home for a patch job. Episode 06: “Road of Hope” About time we had an optimistic episode, these last few have been depressing as all getout. Camera pans over a train-station (what, no [chugga chugga choo choo] caption? You disappoint me, show), Hughes raps on the window to Ed’s car to get his attention. The rest of Eastern Command were tied up with work, so the Lt. Colonel came by in their place. Ed’s grateful, but- YESSSSSSSSS! The post-credits didn’t lie, The Mighty Major Armstrong is indeed “sharing” a bench with Ed. And may I say that the man cleans up nice, that is a snazzy suit. Hughes says that The Mighty Armstrong’s there for protection, in case Scar comes after him again. Ed’s in no shape to fight, and hey that’s a nice touch, showing Ed’s empty sleeve wave around when he takes offense at being called a child. Speaking of, where’s the little brother? Oh. Oh my Leto. You stuck him in a box with the sheep?! Why?! Ok ok, maybe a half-wrecked suit of armor wouldn’t really fit in among the other passengers. But sticking him with livestock? Really? “I thought he might get lonely without a little company. *sparkle*” ...you are just the most peculiar mix of sense and cluelessness, aren’t you Armstrong? I mean, you’re not wrong, but still. Sheep, dude. One final salute between the three, and the train’s off. Away through the picturesque landscape we go, Armstrong reading while Ed takes a nap. The train makes a stop, Ed’s just starting to wake up when Armstrong notices someone walk by the train and crushes Ed in getting out the window. A Doctor Marcoh? Marcoh… does not look very happy to see Armstrong, goes sprinting away. Look, I know the guy can be a bit bombastic sometimes, that’s a bit of an overreaction. Armstrong says that he’s a talented State Alchemist from Central, who was researching into possible medical applications of Alchemy. But after the Ishvalan Civil War, he went missing? Like, he defected, or retired? Ed insists on disembarking, as a doctor might know some useful things about bio-alchemy. Fingers crossed it doesn’t end up like the last bio-alchemist they visited. The State Alchemists are in the city now, seems Armstrong’s the one carting around Al In A Box. They’re looking for Marcoh by showing a picture of the man, one that Armstrong drew? I’m as surprised as Ed that Armstrong’s such a good artist. Strong, a skilled Alchemist, reader, and now an artist? Is there nothing that The Mighty Armstrong cannot do? Ah, of course, “the art of portraiture has been passed down through the Armstrong family for generations.” The townsman they’re questioning says it looks like a Dr. Mauro to him. All the town’s previous doctors got drafted for the Civil War, but afterwards Dr. Mauro came. Further interviews with the townsfolk are all positive, about how he’ll see anyone and heal them with a big flash of light. Sounds like alchemy to me. Ed and Armstrong (and Al, he’s been pretty quiet so far) arrive at a house, Ed goes to knock on the door- What the Leto, dude?! Ed just opened the door, and Marcoh shot at him! He stands there with gun shaking, ranting that he won’t go back, that they’re here to silence him. Armstrong tries to calm him down. Then when that doesn’t work he flattens him with Al’s crate, to Ed’s displeasure. Now the four are sitting around a table, Armstrong’s talking about how when Marcoh left he took top-secret material with him. So he did defect? Marcoh says he couldn't handle it anymore, order or no order to “dirty his hands researching that thing”... What “thing”? Ed has the same question. The Philosopher’s Stone! Houston, we have confirmation that it exists! Marcoh took his research documents, and the stone itself. Does he have it?! Uh, dude? That’s a vial of liquid. You understand the difference between a solid and a liquid, right? Oh. OH. “The Sage’s Stone, The Grand Elixir. The Celestial Stone. The Red Tincture. The Fifth Element” The Stone is supposed to ‘create’ a liquid that grants eternal life, isn’t it? Along with the whole “lead into gold” thing. Nobody ever said that it was a solid, did they? Marcoh’s saying that just as the Stone has many names (Ed, don’t poke it! That’s a highly powerful substance!) it can take on many forms. But it’s not a complete product? Ah, so this liquid is an imperfect Stone, amplifying power but still having a limit. Like Cornello’s Stone, able to amplify his power but still fracturing in the end. Ed seizes on this knowledge, demanding access to the research materials. Marcoh is taken aback, and further shocked when Armstrong explains that his “child” is a State Alchemist. He tries to explain how many State Alchemists turned in their certifications after the War, and now a child… Ed insists that he has no choice, that if it’s a mistake then it’s a mistake that he has to make. Now the doctor’s examining Al, remarking how incredible it was that Ed could transmute Al’s soul. Maybe Ed does have the skills to produce a complete Stone. But still, Marcoh refuses to show his research and continue the Devil’s research. Not even Ed exclaiming that he’s already been through Hell can change the doc’s mind, who finally asks them to leave. Sad faces all around, the three SA’s walking away while Marcoh sits on a bed and thinks over Ed’s last words. At the train station waiting for their ride, Armstrong asks why Ed didn’t take the Stone from the doc, even if it was incomplete. Ed says he wanted it, but he and Al agree that they don’t want it badly enough to deprive the town of their only doctor. Aw, they’ve still got their empathy! And hey, we know now that it’s possible to make different forms of the Stone, the Elrics’ possibilities have expanded considerably. At least some good’s come out of this. And Armstrong’s not going to report back to Central? “I met a simple, small-town doctor today. I can’t see any real reason to report that.” Good for you, Armstrong! Oh hey, Marcoh’s here! And he’s handing over a map to his materials? This day keeps getting better! Doc wishes them luck, hoping that they will be able to restore their bodies. ...ok, what’s the catch? Way too much is going right for our characters. Is Marcoh secretly evil, setting up an ambush with the Goths? Did he already destroy his research out of guilt from the War? Will they find it, only to decipher a recipe for Ovaltine? What’s the catch? According to the note, the research is stored in the National Central Library. That’s not a bad place, one book in what I assume is a huge library would be difficult. But they have a clue now! Marcoh gets home, sighs- aw crap! Lust! I was kidding about a Goth ambush earlier, don’t tell me he actually is working for them! Well. I’m guessing this is the last we’ll see of the poor doctor. Sorry buddy! Now we’re at a familiar house, Automail sign out front. Granny, who I guess is actually Pinako based on the captions but I’ll keep calling Granny, calls for Winry who’s working away at a desk. At a mention of their “best customer”, Winry looks up. Outside, Ed and Al are greeting Granny, who just asks what they’ve done now. A common occurrence, this? Ed introduces the Major as- hey, the dog has an Automail left leg! That’s a neat touch! Armstrong’s shaking hands with Granny, then she steps back and remarks that it’s been a while, but Ed’s gone and grown- smaller. Hah! Still getting in the height jokes, eh Granny? But why would she say something so clearly untrue? Ed starts shouting-

Seems like Ed needs to work on the Five D’s. Here’s Winry! Yelling about how Ed’s supposed to call first when he’s heading back for maintenance. Hey Winry, looking good! Still got the aim from Episode 2 I see. She’s happy to see Ed again, even as Ed grouses about his head.

Uh oh, Winry is no longer happy when she sees the damage to her work. “A little smashed up” is a bit of an understatement, Ed. Winry is shaking in fury over her creation- wow, really Ed? “It’s basically the same; it’s just in smaller pieces.” Yeah, like you’ll be if you don’t stop antagonizing your mechanic, Ed! Winry gives that line the only response she can, and while Ed groans on the floor she asks Al how he’s doing, what trouble they’ve gotten into. Then she goes and kicks the Giant Suit of Armor in the helmet, sending Al down with Ed. Yeah, I gotta agree with you Armstrong. Best to sit quietly and drink your coffee. Granny’s checking Ed over, seems he needs adjustments to his leg too. Cue height teasing from Winry. But the arm’s busted, that’ll have to be built from scratch. Ed asks if it can be done in a week, Granny asks for him to give them some credit, says three days. Three days to build a new mechanical arm? I like this setting! Until then, Ed’ll make do with a spare leg. Winry gripes a little bit about this taking three all-nighters, but says since they need to get to Central ASAP she’ll work her butt off for them! (Aw, Ed’s blushing!) She does expect a fortune in rush order fees. Outside- well, Armstrong appears to subscribe to the Steve Rogers School of Log Splitting.

And we are treated to some magnificent shots of Armstrong at work as Al sits quietly, watching chickens. Taking the wood inside (come on Granny, turn around. You don’t know what you’re missing!), Armstrong asks where Ed’s hanging, seems he’s gone to visit Mama Elric. Shots of peaceful village music and shepherds waving to Ed, as Granny asks the Major what kind of lives the brothers are living. Aw, you guys don’t even send them letters? Come on, stay in better touch with the Rockbells! Armstrong remarks how Ed and Al are well known for their Alchemy, even in Central. And sometimes that gets them in trouble. But they’re strong boys, and Granny agrees. Awwww! It’s a picture of the Baby Blonds! Baby Winry’s dragging a surprised Al and begrudging Ed in for a picture, a smiling Mama Elric and stoic Granny behind them. That’s adorable. Granny goes on to explain to Armstrong that she’s been watching them ever since they were born, as a friend of the family. Their absent father was even a drinking pal of hers! But one day he “up and left the village, abandoning his wife and sons.” Why? Granny doesn’t even know if he’s still alive. (Mysterious Father continues to be Mysterious. And there’s the picture of the Elric family, the dad’s face covered up. Rude.) Then Armstrong asks about Winry’s parents. Ah, so this is how it was done in the manga? We know from Brotherhood’s second episode that they died in the war, but I guess this is when Armstrong learns as the audience surrogate. We do learn that they both were surgeons. Granny mentions that it’s time for supper, overrides Armstrong’s polite refusal by saying that food tastes better with guests, and adding one more person won’t be any inconvenience. Then Armstrong asks about the house that the Elrics grew up in. It’s gone, since- wait, they burned it down? “My guess is they did it because with no house to come home to, there could be no turning back.” Later that night, Ed gets back- GAH! Emotional Armstrong! Moved by the tale of the Elric Brothers, The Mighty Armstrong embraces the poor boy, who struggles to escape as Al, Granny, and Winry look on. “What unyielding love to try and bring your mother back to life! *sparkle* What a tremendous sacrifice to give up your arm in order to transmute your brother’s disembodied soul! *sparkle* What determination to burn down your own house…! To make sure… there was no retreat! *sparkle sparkle sparkle* Come Edward! *strip* Allow me to offer you this comforting embrace!” “Just stay back! Don’t rub your chest on me!” ...stay awesome, Armstrong. Next morning Ed stumbles out of bed to a buzzing sound, sees Winry working away at her table. Ed heads over and compliments her working so hard in the morning- “Been up all night.” Later, heads over saying she must be almost do- “One more all nighter.” Next day, Ed skulks up, looks around curiously until Winry gets fed up and tosses him out. Al, Ed, and Robo-Dog are all outside resting on the grass, Al counseling Ed to be patient while the older brother waves his arm and legs in frustration at knowing there’s a clue out there. Then winry comes out, new arm all ready to go! Inside, Ed’s grimacing while Winry and Granny count down, grits his teeth when the new limbs are attached. Guess it’s painful for the nerves to connect like that. Ed’ll be happy to kiss that pain goodbye when they get the Philosopher’s Stone, Granny says she’ll be sad to lose her biggest source of income. Meanwhile Winry… has an Armstrong Moment over the perfection of her automail. “Crazy gearhead.” “You’re lost without me, alchemy freak.” Mechanical Engineering versus Chemical Engineering! Fight! Ed does some flexes, as Winry talks about how she used a higher percentage of chrome to prevent rusting. Nice, functional and decorative! Although it won’t be quite as strong, so he shouldn’t do anything too crazy- too late Winry, he’s already out the door to fix Al. Armstrong’s asking if Ed can really fix Al right there, Ed says he can do it, but he has to be sure not to mess up the symbol inside the armor that binds Al to it. One hand-clap later, and the Giant Fanged Suit of Armor is good as new! The brothers have a little practice spar, and agree to leave for Central first thing the next day. That night, Ed’s snoring away on the couch, Al griping that he’s sleeping with his stomach out again. Granny jokes that Al’s the older one, to which he just says that someone has to look out for Ed. Winry brings a blanket over, and we get established ages of fourteen for Al and fifteen for Ed. Man, how long has Al been trapped in that armor? So much of his life, stuck in metal. Winry remarks that someone as young and small as Al… can be used as a human weapon. Winry, that’s not funny! That’s depressing! I thought I told you to be funny again, show! Now Al’s formally thanking Winry and Granny, always welcoming them like they’re really family. And Ed may not say it, but he feels the same way. “Granny… Winry… thank you.” Yup, right there with you, Armstrong. Right in the feels. Ed and Al are heading out now, Granny’s there to see them off. Winry’s not, since she’s stayed up three nights in a row. Now that’s dedication to your craft. The State Alchemists make to leave, Granny tells the boys to come back for dinner sometime, and Sleepy Winry waves goodbye from the balcony. Ed turns away and rubs his head before waving back. Say goodbye to Winry directly, you fool! Eh, whatever. I’ll badger him about my ship later. Credits! Aw, that was a sweet episode, nice respite from the downers of the last few. I mean, it wasn’t completely sunshine, I’m pretty sure that Marcoh won’t be making another appearance and we had to revisit the absence of Papa Elric and Winry’s parents. But overall, very nice. And you’ll never hear me complain about more Armstrong. Next time! Wait, nevermind. Back to Sleepy Winry walking down the stairs, complaining that she slept through almost the entire day and now she needs to clean up after human-tornado Ed. Then she finds a screw? “Whoopsy?” Uh oh. Don’t tell me Ed’s gonna lose his arm again next episode? You do realize he’s getting into combat, right? Or does she? I mean, they don’t tell the Rockbells what they’re up to. Now, Next time! “Doctor Marcoh’s notes on the Philosopher’s Stone were indeed in the place he said. But nothing is ever that easy. Unfortunately for the Elrics the Enemy is always one step ahead, leading the boys ever deeper into the maze of “truth within the truth.” Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood-” Episode 07: “Hidden Truths.” “The only way to reach the destination is to never turn away.”

[wildlilaccdctulip]

Our Day in the Tulip Classroom

Wednesday, July 18th

All aboard!!! The “good morning train” pulled into the classroom this morning for the Tulips. We “chugga-chugga-ed” and “choo-choo-ed” while we sang good morning to each other.

Later on, we took a buggy ride to Kellogg Middle School which is being demolished. The Tulips stared in awe as the different trucks moved huge pieces of wood and metal into varying piles. We talk about trucks a lot and read books in the classroom but it’s great to be able to experience the machines up close where they’re much bigger and much louder!