#Logan having circular glasses that are too big for his head >>>

[halfhissandwich]

Who wanted familial moralogince? Nobody? Too bad!

[little-fam-ily]

Build a Bear (Sanders Sides Agere Oneshot)

Read it on ao3

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,079

Characters: CG Logan and Patton, Agere Virgil

Pairings: Queerplatonic Analogical, platonic Analogicality

Warnings: Kink mention

Summary: In which Logan and Virgil take a trip to Build a Bear (brought to you by a Build a Bear employee).

Virgil’s eyes widened as he stared at the commercial on the TV. It was for Build a Bear, talking about how you can put different sounds in ‘your new furry friends’. He smiled around his pacifier. “Lolo!” He called to Logan, his caregiver.

Logan popped his head in from the kitchen, “What is it?” 

Virgil pointed to the TV. Logan was able to catch just the end of the ad. “Virgil, I don’t think-” He stopped himself as he looked at Virgil’s wide, pleading eyes. “Oh, oh Virgil, don’t,” He sighed, “You know what the puppy eyes do to me.”

Virgil just let out a whine. Logan looked at him sternly, “You know they’re very expensive, Virgil.”

He nodded, “I know…” He glanced away, cheeks red. Logan shook his head, thinking about it, “Well, it’s almost your birthday anyway, We’ll make a day of it.”

Virgil smiled wide, “Weally?”

Logan nodded, “Really really.”

Virgil jumped up and embraced him in a hug, squeezing tight, “T’ank you, Lolo!”

Soon the day came, and Virgil and Logan sat in the car, getting ready to go into the mall. Virgil was sucking his thumb, and Logan was looking at him with concern, “Do you think you can be big enough to pass?”

Virgil glanced at him, cheeks turning pink. He dragged his thumb out of his mouth, stopping at the tip where he could still bite down.

Logan sighed, “Better.” He paused before he spoke up again, “Virgil, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to hide it if you don’t want to.”

Virgil whined, “I jus’, don’ wan’ people t’inking i’s kink.” He murmured around his thumb.

Logan nodded, “That’s understandable. But what we do is none of their business. I’m pretty sure the average person doesn’t care, and if they do, then they’re not a good person.”

Virgil glanced away. Logan let out a sympathetic breath, “Well, if you’re ready I’m ready.”

Virgil nodded. Logan stepped out of the car, then helped Virgil out of the car. They walked into the mall holding hands.

The line to Build a Bear was already a mile long. They got in, and Virgil was ancy with anticipation. The wait seemed like hours. Logan could tell he was getting impatient, so he squeezed his hand. They smiled at each other.

Finally they got to the door. They were greeted by a young woman with long brown hair and a wide smile. Her name tag read Valerie.

“Hey there! What brings you to the workshop today?” She smiled. Virgil panicked, looking to Logan for help.

“It’s his birthday next week, but I thought I’d take him early.” Logan turned to her. Her smile grew wider, “Wow, that’s great!” She got out a sharpie and a pack of stickers from her apron, “How old are you turning, sweetheart?”

Virgil took a deep breath, preparing himself to answer, “Twenty.”

“And your name?”

“V-” He started, but stopped himself, having to pause for another moment, “Virgil.”

She wrote everything down, tearing the sticker off and handing it to him, “And have you built a bear with us before?”

Logan and Virgil glanced at each other, then back to her, shaking their heads. 

Valerie kept her smile, “So to your left is the wall where we have our whole selection of bears to choose from. Once you pick your new friend you’ll head over to the sound station to pick any scents or sounds that you’d like. 

“Then you’ll come around over to that blue square where we’ll stuff your friend and perform the heart ceremony. After we get them stitched up you’ll go to the back wall to get their clothing and accessories, head to Station 4 to give them a name, and then you’ll be all ready to check out and take your new friend home!”

Virgil’s breathing became shallow. That was a lot to keep track of. Logan sensed his anxiety, squeezing his hand, “Ready to head on in?”

He looked at him, hesitantly nodding his head. Valerie opened the rope barrier and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.

They stepped in, and Virgil was already overwhelmed by the large selection of stuffed animals. There were more than bears, there were rabbits and cats and monkeys and unicorns. There were themed bears too, like Frozen and Star Wars and Paw Patrol.

Virgil’s eyes scanned the wall, biting down on his thumb hard. Logan stepped up to him, “I know it’s a lot to think about, and there are a lot of steps, but I remember all of it, and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Virgil nodded, then his eyes widened as they settled on a fluffy brown bear with the Harry Potter logo printed on its back paw. He pointed to it, “Harry Potter bear.”

Logan smirked, “You want that one? We can put some Ravenclaw accessories on it.”

Virgil smiled wide, nodding. He grabbed the unstuffed pelt and felt the fur, holding it close to his chest.

Logan smiled at his little, then noticed the birthday sticker still in his hand. “Here, let me help you with that,” He took the sticker, peeled it off the back, and stuck it right on Virgil’s jacket, “There we go.”

Virgil smiled at him, leaning on his chest. They stayed like that for a bit, then a young man with an apron walked up to them with a smile, “Have we picked our new friend?”

Virgil looked at Logan, then at the man, who’s name tag read Terrence, nodding.

“Alright! Right this way,” Terrence beckoned them over to a white counter with computers on each end. He reached for Virgil’s bear, “Can I see him real quick?”

Virgil glanced at Logan, then hesitantly handed over the pelt. Terrence pulled a sharpie out of his apron and started writing on the tag, “I see your name is Virgil, is that right?”

Virgil nodded. Terrence put the sharpie away, “And I can also see it’s your birthday! Well, have a very happy birthday,” He smiled, then continued, “Now, we have some scents you can choose from. We have strawberry, birthday cake, cotton candy, and bubblegum.”

Both Virgil and Logan took some time smelling the scents. “Strawberry,” Virgil decided.

“Alright!” Terrence got out his sharpie and wrote some things down on the tag, then took an unopened scent packet, peeled a sticker off, then stuck the sticker on the tag. The scent was a plastic disk shaped like a bear head.

��Now we get to pick a sound we put in the paw of the bear right here.” He showed them the right paw, which had a little heart shaped patch on it.

Virgil smiled. This was the part he was the most excited for. 

Terrence moved to one of the computer monitors, “Here is the sound station, we have a huge selection of sounds to choose from. You can scroll up and down as well as side to side. There are generic animal sounds, themed sounds from movies and TV. I see you picked a Harry Potter bear, maybe you’d like a Harry Potter sound?”

Virgil thought about it, scrolling through the Harry Potter selection. He looked, but decided it would be best to just pick the theme from the movie.

He pressed the icon, jumping at the loud noise coming from the computer. Logan grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.

“Alright, I’m just gonna scan his tag really quick.” Terrence moved the tag under the scanner. “Now you’re going to grab one of those chips,” He pointed to a hole in the counter which housed a bunch of plastic sound bytes shaped like bear heads. Virgil did as he was told, holding it tight.

“Place it right here,” He pointed to a little divot in the counter where the chip fit perfectly. Virgil set it right in. Then Terrence pressed the ‘buy’ button on the screen, which started loading. It only took a couple of seconds for the sound to be transferred to the chip.

“Great! Now press it to see if it works.” Terrence smiled. Virgil pressed it, holding it up to his ear. That was a bad idea, as he immediately had to move it away.

“Looks like it works!” Terrence chuckled, then took the chip and pushed it into the bear’s paw. “You’re all set! Once that group is done with their heart ceremony you’ll move right on up to that blue square where my friend Mr. Patton will get this little guy all stuffed up for yah.”

Logan and Virgil nodded. “Thank you,” Logan smiled, then turned towards the machine. Virgil tried to get a look at what was going on up ahead, but they were too far away to see or hear anything.

The wait seemed like forever, but soon it was their turn. The young man working the machine got up from his chair and turned towards them, “Alright folks, are we all good to go?”

Virgil smiled slightly as he noticed a shiny they/them pin on their apron. They had a mop of curly brown hair on their head, and circular glasses were perched on their freckled nose.

He looked at Logan, then nodded. Patton smiled, “Great! I’m gonna have you come around this way to that blue square over there.” They pointed to a large blue sticker on the floor next to the front counter. It had white paw prints on it.

They both stepped on the square, waiting to get started.

“See, the thing about this machine is that it needs energy to get it working, right?” Patton started as they put the pelt on the nozzle. “So that means you gotta either hop hop hop! Or clap clap clap! Or wiggle wiggle wiggle! To get the machine running. Do you think you can do that, kiddo?”

Virgil’s eyes widened as he blushed at the pet name. Yes, he did indeed want to clap clap clap, or hop hop hop, or wiggle wiggle wiggle, but he didn’t want to do it alone. He tugged on Logan’s sleeve. Logan blinked, “Oh, do I? Do I have to do it too?”

“If you want!” Patton smiled. Logan sighed, rolling his eyes, but nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Patton exclaimed as they turned on the machine. Logan and Virgil started clapping, and Patton stepped on a pedal, moving the bear around the nozzle to get the stuffing in every limb, its chest, and its head.

“Alright! Great job kiddo!” Patton smiled as they took their foot off the pedal and the bear off the nozzle, checking it themself to see if it was the right softness.

“Now for the scent. Do you want it in the head or the belly?” They asked. Virgil bit down on his thumb. There were so many decisions to make! It was getting a bit much.

Logan sensed this, “We’ll do it in the belly.”

“Okay,” Patton smiled, taking the disc out of its plastic sleeve and slipping it into the bear through the hole in the back. 

“Now we get to choose a heart! There’s either a red satin heart or a checkered heart.” Patton picked up two felt hearts from two bins on the machine and held them up, “Which one would you like, kiddo?”

Virgil’s eyes flitted between the two. After a pause Patton spoke up, "I know, it's a hard decision to make."

After another moment Virgil decided on the red one, pointing to it. Patton smiled, "Alright!" They placed the heart to the side, then picked another heart up, this one big and plastic, "We also have a beating heart option! We put it in the chest of the bear, and when you press down on it, it beats like a heart!"

Virgil’s eyes widened. He looked at Logan with them, pouting his lip a little. Logan smiled at him, giving him a nod. Virgil turned back to Patton, nodding enthusiastically.

"Okay!" Patton smiled, taking a heart, peeling the sticker off, and putting the sticker on the tag. They then placed the heart right in the front of the bear’s chest where a human’s heart would be.

“Now,” Patton said as they got up from their chair and took the now stuffed bear and the heart to the counter Logan and Virgil were standing next to. 

“We are going to perform what is called the ‘squish test’. Which means you take your new friend and you give him the biggest hug that you possibly can!” They wrapped their arms around themself, “To see if he’s either as soft or firm enough as you want.”

They turned to Logan, “And if he’s too firm we can always take stuffing out, and if he’s too soft we can always put stuffing in.”

Logan nodded, then turned to Virgil, “Do you want to give him a hug?”

Virgil nodded, walking up to where the bear was sitting and grabbing it, feeling its arms, legs, chest, and head. He then embraced it in his arms, holding it as tight as he could. He smiled as he felt the pulsing of the heartbeat.

“Is he good?” Patton asked. Virgil turned to him, nodding. 

“Perfect!” They smiled, “If you would put your friend back on the hug station, we are going to perform the Heart Ceremony,” They put emphasis on the last two words, “The most important step in this entire process! You’re going to take your heart.”

It took a minute for the request to process in his brain, but Virgil went back to the counter, put the bear back where it was sitting, and grabbed his heart.

“Now we gotta get it beating, alright kiddo? So you’re going to take it, hold it up like this,” They held it high above their head. Virgil did the same.

“And you gotta wiggle it like this!” Patton started waving their hand around. A smile broke out on Virgil’s face as he mimicked their movements. They wiggled for a moment, Patton giggling, “Do you think you got it beating, kiddo?”

Virgil nodded, smile not fading. Patton smiled at him, “Alright, now you’re going to go to your new friend, and you gotta wave it in his ears so that he’s a good listener!”

Virgil stepped over to the bear and waved the heart over its ears.

“Wave it on his arms so he can give you great big hugs!”

He waved it over its arms.

“Wave it on his legs so he can run and play with you all day!”

He waved it over its legs.

“Now grip your heart, hold it close, and make a great big wish!”

He held it close to his chest, closed his eyes and made his wish, I wish for me and Logan to live together forever.

“Did you make your wish?” Patton smiled. Virgil opened his eyes, smiling back as he nodded.

“Great! Now you get to do the honor of putting that heart into your friend through the hole in the back.”

Virgil grabbed the bear and shoved the heart in as far as it could go. 

Patton gave a nod, “Alright, now if you would put your friend back on the hug station and step right back on that blue square, I’m gonna do the hard job of stitching him up, okay?”

Virgil nodded, doing as he was told. Patton stepped up to the counter and started pulling on the stitches. They glanced at Virgil's sticker, “I see it’s your birthday today!”

“In a week,” Logan corrected them. They nodded, “Oh! Okay, well, happy early birthday!” They looked closer, “And you’re turning twenty! Wow! I turned twenty this January!”

“Interesting.” Logan commented. Patton tied the last knot, cutting the extra string off. “Alright! This little guy is good to go! I’m gonna have you come around this way,” they pointed to their right, “to the back to pick out his clothing and accessories. Then you’ll take that tag to station 4 and scan it to give him his name!”

“Alright, thank you.” Logan smiled, leading Virgil around the direction Patton pointed them towards. Virgil looked back one last time to see Patton waving at him. He waved back shyly.

Thankfully the Harry Potter clothing section was right next to the stuffed animal section. Virgil’s eyes scanned the wall. He definitely wanted the traditional robes and a wand. But then he spotted a Quidditch uniform, along with a broom and a snitch.

He gasped slightly, turning to Logan, who nodded, “You can get both outfits if you’d like.”

Virgil whined, “But i’s ‘spensive…” He glanced away, biting his thumb.

Logan chuckled, “Virgil, it’s your birthday, and it’s you. You’re worth it. Besides, I’m getting paid soon anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Virgil scrunched his nose, but took both the normal uniform and accessories and the Quidditch uniform and accessories off the hangers. He had to get on his tip-toes to reach some of them, but he got the hang of it.

“I’m guessing he’s a seeker, hm?” Logan hummed. Virgil nodded. Logan gave a nod back, “Alright, let’s give him a name, shall we?”

They walked over to the back corner on the other side of the store, where Station 4 was. Logan pressed some buttons, scanned the tag, and a menu popped up asking them to put in information for the bear’s birth certificate.

Now it was time to pick a name. Virgil bit down on his thumb, thinking very hard. Logan tilted his head, “What would you like to name him?”

Virgil smiled mischievously, “Logan!”

Logan scoffed, “Virgil, please. Pick an original name!”

“I’s original! ‘N Logan’s my favorite name!” Virgil beamed, turning back to the screen and typing in the name, “Logan the seeker.”

After the bear’s birth certificate was printed out, they walked up to the cash register. The young man standing at the register’s name tag read Joan. “Alright, are we all set?”

Logan nodded, putting all their findings on the counter. Virgil bit down on his thumb as he watched Joan scan the tags, starting to zone out. He wasn’t really interested in this part.

“Would you like to dress it here or when you get home?” Joan asked him. His eyes widened as he was snapped out of his daydreaming. He looked at them, then at Logan, then back to them. “Um, home,” He responded, now ancy to leave.

“Alright, would you like to hold it or put it in a box?” They asked. Virgil whined a bit under his breath. This was way too many questions for one day. “Box.”

Joan nodded at his firm answer. “Alright, with all of the accessories, your total comes out to one hundred and thirty five dollars, and forty five cents.”

Virgil gasped, looking at Logan with concern. That was a huge number. Logan just smiled at him reassuringly, “It’s alright Virgil, I really don’t mind,” He turned to Joan, “He’s a little concerned with money right now.”

“Oh I totally understand that,” They gave a smile, “I mean, I’m working two jobs and even I can’t afford to pay rent sometimes.” They turned back to the computer, muttering to themself, “Late stage capitalism.”

They took the bear and put it in a box, then bagged up all the clothes, “You should be all set. Oh! It’s your birthday! We have to ring the birthday bell!”

As they picked up a large bell from the shelf behind them, Logan squeezed Virgil’s hand, “It’s going to make a very loud noise, Virgil.”

Virgil looked at him as he braced himself. The loud ring of the bell crashed in his ears, running through his entire body. He cringed as he shut his eyes, stopping himself from covering his ears.

Then it was over, and he was able to open his eyes again. Logan leaned into his ear, “Good job.” He smiled. Virgil smiled back.

Then they were all good to go. Logan took the box and the bag, and grabbed Virgil’s hand as he led both of them out.

“Have a good day, kiddo!” Patton called with a smile as they walked past the machine. They both glanced at them. “Thank you.” Logan said before finally reaching the door.

“So, what did you wish for during the heart ceremony?” Logan asked as they took their purchases and headed for other stores, mostly Hot Topic.

“I tan’t tell you!” Virgil teased, “Or it won’t tome true.”

---------------------------------------------------------

Patton smiled to themself as they walked into the back room, unlocking their locker and taking their backpack out. Once they made sure everything was still in check, they took their apron off and slipped it in their locker, closing it and locking it again.

Today was another great day at work. Patton loved their job, really loved their job. They got to interact with all the cute kids and families that came in, and they adored all the smiles and giggles the heart ceremony provided.

There was always at least one memorable family that came in, and today it was a young couple, one of which had his birthday today. His name was Virgil, Patton remembered.

He was memorable because of one fact. Patton could see it in his eyes, in his posture, in his energy.

Patton got to meet a little.

They themself had been a babysitter for a couple of years now. Their friend Roman was a little, and when her partner Janus was busy, Patton got to babysit her. It brought them a lot of comfort and happiness, and they one day hoped to have a little of their own.

A pang of disappointment hit their chest. Virgil seemed so adorable and fun and loving, but it looked like he already had a caregiver. But they were happy for him nonetheless.

They brought themself out of their thoughts as they headed on out, waving goodbye to their coworkers. Their brisk walking speed got them to the food court fairly quickly, where they planned to have sushi for lunch.

But their eyes widened as they caught sight of a couple across the food court. It was Virgil and his caregiver! A smile broke out on their face, and they knew they had to take this opportunity to get to know them better.

They rushed to Virgil’s table, slowing down a bit as they got closer, “Hey! You guys are still here!”

They both turned to them, and Virgil jumped, quickly taking his thumb out of his mouth. His caregiver nodded, “Yes, we took a bit of time to do some extra shopping and get some food.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I was able to catch you guys! It was just the end of my shift so…” They smiled, trailing off a bit. “We didn’t really get to actually meet. I’m Patton!” They held out their hand.

“Logan,” Virgil’s caregiver took it, shaking firmly. Virgil just waved slightly, “Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, it was really nice to meet you guys! I hope you had fun, I always do.” They laughed nervously, trying so desperately not to make it awkward.

“Yes, I can confirm that our experience was most enjoyable, don’t you agree, Virgil?” Logan said, then turned to him. He nodded with a small smile on his face.

Patton stood there for a moment. They knew what they wanted to do, they just didn’t know if they had the guts to actually do it. “Hey, I don’t usually do stuff like this, but, can I get your guys’ Instagrams?”

“Oh, I don’t have one, but, Virgil? If that’s alright with you?” Logan asked him. He looked to Logan, then to Patton, but eventually nodded. 

Patton smiled wide, “Great! Uh, here’s my phone, you can just put it in.” They handed Virgil their phone. He took it, quickly typing in his username in the search bar. He handed it back to them, a shy smile on his face.

“Great! Thank you! Again, it was really nice meeting you!” Patton beamed.

“It was a pleasure meeting you as well, Patton.” Logan responded. Virgil nodded in agreement.

Patton let out a sigh of relief, giving one last wave before heading down the food court the other way. They couldn’t help but continue to smile as they skipped along, soon reaching the sushi restaurant. They didn’t know how yet, but they knew this was the start of something special.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 7

Day 7 - There is a string tied around your pinky that only you can see, the end of it leads to your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Kid AU! Intrulogical

TWs: Remus being Remus [though not overly so, he’s like, 9 here], some swearing

–

Remus Castillo and Logan Smith were two very different children; former was creative and bursting with chaotic energy, while the latter preferred to be more logical, more stable. One studied hard into the night despite his young years, the other decided that a good time was filling a blender with crayons and silly putty to see what would happen. Both attended different schools, lived a good distance apart, and neither of their families knew the other existed.

What could possibly bring together such opposing forces?

If your answer wasn’t being forcibly dragged kicking and screaming from the local museum by security for tampering with the exhibits and screaming about historical theft, then congratulations; you’re most likely still sane.

How did these very different children meet, you ask? 

The story began on a Friday lunchtime - as all good stories often do - when Sanders Elementary and Faraday Academy For Gifted Children both booked their museum visits for the same time slot. Thankfully, the museum staff speculated that they could indeed handle two classes of fourth graders at once - those poor, unfortunate souls - and decided to start both classes off on either sides of the museum with a little overlap.

Logan entered the foyer with his peers, gazing around at the array of trinkets and treasures adorning the space. Though he hungered for knowledge of all kinds, his heart was set on the cosmos, reaching for a copy of the museum’s map when his hand was blocked by another. He recoiled and turned to face the other; a boy with tanned skin as opposed to his own pasty complexion, with wild green eyes that bore into Logan’s own, and a grin like a shark about to snap Logan’s hand up in it’s jaws.

“I call dibs, four eyes!”

Logan huffed, straightening his glasses, “There are plenty of maps to go around, there is no need for rudeness-”

“Why do you talk like you’ve got a stick up your ass?”, the boy asked with no hint of remorse nor shame, “Just talk like a regular kid, jeez!”

Logan was flabbergasted. No one had ever talked to him like that before. Then again, no one ever really talked to him in general. Perhaps that was why his lonely little brain could only think to stammer out, 

“Who ARE you!?”

The boy roared with laughter, “Wow, thats all you have to say!? And they call ME weird!” , he shot a hand out towards Logan’s, not removing the one touching the map, “I’m Remus! What’s your name, frankenstein?”

Logan huffed, “Logan Smith. And you know,”, he began, puffing his chest out proudly as he yanked the map away, “Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster, therefore, you’re not insulting me-”

Without hesitation, Remus leant into Logan’s space and licked the map, causing Logan to jolt back and drop it. Picking up his spoils, Remus chuckled manically, “You look smart but you’re super dumb. Frankenstein IS the monster, dumbass, that’s the whole point.”. Without waiting for Logan’s rebuttal, Remus made his way back to his class, leaving Logan to frustratedly grab another map and return to his class, unaware of the string that formed around his pinky…

The tour was everything Logan had hoped for; an informative romp through space and time, enjoying the sights of the planetarium and a walk through a tunnel lined with geodes. And yet, all Logan could think about was that stupid boy who stole HIS map. Hmph! How dare Remus call him stupid! Whatever, at least they would stop soon to have lunch in the Polar Exhibit and he wouldn’t have to think about- 

Oh god dammit.

As they entered the wide circular room, he laid eyes on the boy from before pretending to have gotten his tongue stuck to the giant fake iceberg in the centre of the room. Cheering him on was a gaggle of other children while their teacher seemed more content to just eat his own lunch and try to pretend it wasn’t his problem. Logan huffily stormed over to the nearest empty seat and popped open his Big Hero Six lunchbox, ready to moodily munch his jelly sandwiches when a painfully familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“We meet again, professor!”

Great.

“Remus.”, Logan hissed, though he tried to maintain composure, “A pleasure, I’m sure but I must be-”

“- crazy to run away from your soulmate?”, Remus finished, leaving Logan, once again, speechless.

“E-Excuse me!?”

“Check your pinkie, dingus.”

Logan checked and finally noticed the string, and to his horror, the end of it that tied itself around Remus’ pinkie.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for life! Unless I die, then you’re stuck with my corpse. Oooh! Maybe you can bring me back to life! Really earn that Frankenstein nickname-”

“This HAS to be a mistake!”, Logan squeaked, flustered and shocked by the news, “There’s no way YOU are my soulmate!”

Logan made eye contact with Remus and for a moment the boy looked hurt, but he plastered on a grin and poked Logan in the arm, “Nope! Fate thinks you’re my future husband, so suck it!”

Groaning, Logan let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine, then I suppose you should tell me about yourself, Remus.”. Logan would - for eternity and a day after - deny that the smile Remus gave him made his little heart flutter for the first time.

As the two ate, Remus went into a long tangent about his life and Logan found himself absolutely fascinated. 

Remus Castillo had a twin brother, Roman, who enjoyed Disney movies and being “an overly wordy drama queen”. They had a single father, much like Logan’s own, whose wife had apparently decided she was destined for greater things that didn’t involve unplanned twin boys (Remus’ words, not his). Logan listened as Remus told him all about his family’s culture, having moved from Aguascalientes to Florida a year ago for work related reasons; retelling fond memories of watching the parade of Calaveras along the Avenida Madero with his father and brother each year. Logan found Remus really enjoyed a mixture of colourful and morbid subjects, each tangent sending Remus on a fun winding road down memory lane or through a vague memory of some educational book.

Logan Smith had wanted nothing to do with the boy who’d licked his hand and stolen his map, but as lunch ended and both classes were being called away to their respective classes, he found he didn’t want to be separated from Remus.

Very apparently, Remus didn’t want to either. If they way he was gasping Logan’s arm and hauling him towards the class from Sanders Elementary instead of his own was any indicator. 

“Come on! You can hang with us! Roman won’t mind! And my buddy Remy’s lotsa fun too-”

“Remus Castillo, stop right there.”

Remus indignantly ignored his teacher, plowing through his sentence, “You’ll LOVE my class, they’re all weirdos like us-”

“REMUS!”, barked his teacher, already done with the nine year old terror, “You let that boy go this instant!”

Remus defiantly clung tighter to Logan’s arm, “No!”

“Remus Castillo, you’re to let go NOW.”

“But he’s my soulmate!”, Remus yelled, causing his classmates to chatter excitedly. It made Logan feel a little self conscious, but Remus didn’t seem to care, “Pleeeeease let him come with us!!”

His teacher rubbed his temples as if it could massage the exhaustion away, “That’s nice, but you are NOT going to cause more trouble, soulmate or not!”

By now, even the children and teacher from Logan’s academy were watching the commotion. It came to a head as Remus’ teacher tried to separate the two of them, earning the tiniest war cry from Remus as he stomped on his teacher’s foot and clung fully to Logan like his life depended on it.

“I’M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HIM! I’LL STAY HERE UNTIL WE’RE A GROSS MUSHY PILE OF SKIN AND BONES IF I HAVE TO!”

With that pleasant image in his brain, Logan decided to perhaps appeal to his own teacher,

“Miss, can Remus perhaps stay with our group so we may avoid further-”

“Absolutely not,”, she turned up her nose at Remus’ display, “Our school has a reputation to uphold, I will not have it sullied by such a rude child.”

Well that backfired. Now both teachers were having to try and separate the two of them. It took two of the museum’s security personnel to finally haul Remus off of Logan, carrying the writhing child as they assured his teacher that they’d put him in the tantrum room. With the way they handled his feral yelling and attempts to grab at any nearby exhibits for something he could use to bash them with, this probably wasn’t their first Rabid Child Rodeo.

Logan watched dejectedly as they hauled his soulmate out of sight while his teacher ordered him to get in line as they continued their tour. He couldn’t focus on any of the various bewitching artifacts that the guide presented to them on their tour of the ancient world though, all he could think about was Remus. Alone. Stuck in some room. Missing out on the exhibits. Missing him.

“....Emile?”, Logan asked the boy standing to his left.

“Yes, Logan?”

“I’m about to do something very, very impulsive.”

“.... Okay?”

“And reckless.”

“...Right-”

“In the name of fate.”

“........”, Emile sighed, “What do you need me to do?”

“Either talk me out of what is likely a terrible decision that will without a doubt go on my permanent record and possibly disappoint my father. Or encourage me so that I may spend time with my soulmate for as long as possible.”

Emile shook his head, “Well, if cartoons have taught me anything, it’s that you’re gonna go for it no matter what I say so...”. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder, “Make it good, Logan, I wanna remember the day the untouchable Logan Smith lost his mind.”. With a shared chuckle, Emile let him wind up for whatever he was about to do, while Logan waited for his moment. The tour guide was gesturing to an exhibit of ancient Mayan armour when Logan chose to strike, raising his hand while Emile awaited the fireworks show to come.

“Sir? I have a question.“

“Of course, what is it?”

“Did the museum ask permission to have that armour?”

The guide looked confused while Logan’s teacher looked ready to have an aneurysm.

“I… don’t understand what you mean. Anyway this-”

“I’m merely asking,”, Logan interrupted, ready to keep pushing until he would be  hauled off by security, “because I believe that if it were my culture being mercilessly appropriated and stolen from, I would be rather upset.”

“We’re allowed to have it because it’s for education-”

“But it’s still stealing. And stealing is always wrong, correct?”

“Well, it-”

“It’s a yes or no question, please answer as such-”

-

Remus hadn’t expected company in the tantrum room, but he wasn’t complaining as Logan was marched in, looking positively proud of himself in spite of the way the security guard nearly tossed him inside with obvious frustration. With a bright grin, Remus pat the beanbag next to him, positively writhing with unbridled joy, “Spill! What’d you do?!”.

Logan tried to play stoic and prideful, but the excitement cracked through in his voice, “I merely inquired as to why museums considered their historical thievery to be ethically justified until the tour guide got angry and attempted to ignore me.”. “Sick!! Then what!?”, Remus’ delighted eyes met Logan’s with a similar sparkle of mischief.

Logan chuckled as he admired their string of fate, as people called it, slowly pulling his eyes from it to meet Remus’ again, “I screamed. Loudly. For quite the duration. I must say, I’m rather proud of my own lung capacity.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in it.

“Naturally, security came to try and calm the situation.”

“And then they brought you here?”

“No, they attempted to calm me down”, Logan snickered, “But, one of them put a hand on my shoulder rather rudely. So I bit them-” “YOU BIT ‘EM!?”, if Logan could bottle the light that radiated from Remus there and then, he would have, his own smile growing while his soulmate’s grin threatened to tear through his cheeks, “Logan, mi alma, you’re insane! I love it!”

“Mi alma?”, Logan queried, his cheeks losing the great blush war as his face radiated a nice rosy crimson.

“Oh, right!”, Remus explained, “It means ‘my soul’, it’s what people call their boyfriends ‘n’ stuff back home. I figured since you’re my soulmate, it makes sense to call you that!”

For a moment, Remus faltered, “Uh…. if you don’t mind I guess? It’s whatever, I’ll stop if you hate it-”

“No, no, I rather appreciate the sentiment,” , Logan awkwardly smiled back at Remus, “Mi alma?”

The wilder of the two threw his head back in a roar laughter, “Man, your pronunciation sucks! And that’s an easy one!“, he teased as he shuffled his beanbag closer to Logan’s and continued with a wild smile, “Looks like I gotta stay with you for sure now and make sure you get it right! You’re stuck with me, Nerdy Wolverine!”

It would be hard work convincing his father to let him move schools to be with Remus, Logan knew that. Despite the fact his father adored love in all forms and regarded the bond of soulmates as sacred, Logan knew it’d logically be a hard sell to ask his father to not only pull him out of an expensive academy, but also to have him possibly move home or make a rather lengthy commute. 

But as Remus’ had met Logan’s, the latter found himself locking fingers with his wild soulmate, banishing that thought while they still had time together. Whether it would work out right away, after a couple of months, or even over the course of a few years, they’d make it work.

“Falsehood,”, Logan smirked, “I believe it’s you that’s stuck with me.”

-----------

Okay, this one’s the cutest thing hands down. I’m so proud of this one! As a tidbit, I had it in mind that their single fathers were Janus for the twins and Patton for Logan. 

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

[miracleonice87]

Full of Surprises

a Matthew Tkachuk one-shot

a/n: I rewatched the Tkachuk family Spittin Chiclets interview this morning from the All-Star game in St. Louis and it got me in my Matty feelings. Here’s a proposal story full of fun surprises. Enjoy!

warnings: just swearing — otherwise, total and complete fluff

_____

“Do they know?” I whispered, one arm entwined with one of Matthew’s as both of us stared at the glimmering ring on my left hand.

“Does who know?” Matthew asked in a matching whisper, ducking his head in front of my face. I knew just what he was after — I placed a kiss on the top part of his ear, his favorite, and allowed my tongue to dart out just slightly, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Does your family know?” I clarified as he sat up straight, smirking at me.

We were flying first class, headed to the Tkachuks’ summer home in Cape Cod. I knew that his parents and both of his siblings would be there, but had no concept of how many of them, if any, knew of the engagement that had begun only about eight hours beforehand, on the beach in Bimini.

What I had seen simply as a much-needed getaway from Matthew’s rigid summer workout schedule and from my own bustling days as a graphic designer had quickly turned into the official start of a lifetime together, complete with a Bahamian backdrop.

Matthew shook his head. “No, they have no idea,” he informed me as he pressed a kiss to my temple. I nuzzled my head against his bicep and let my eyes flutter closed, partially in bliss and partially because Matthew and I had gotten maybe two hours of sleep total since the moment he proposed, what with all the celebrating the two of us had done in our hotel room.

I was suddenly so anxious to share our news with our loved ones, starting with Matthew’s family. I smiled at the thought of rehashing the story for any and all who wanted to hear it.

_____

“Matty...” I whispered, tears swiftly filling my eyes and an enormous lump sneaking into my throat.

Matthew had suggested a walk on the beach following our final dinner at the Bimini resort, where we had we spent the evening holding hands over a candlelit table on a private balcony of one of the resort’s fabulous restaurants. After we finished our seafood dinner entrees, he had fed me my half of a delectable piece of chocolate cake as we laughed together behind glasses of red wine.

Little did I know that the sweetest treat was about to come.

Here he was, kneeling in the sand before me, holding a black velvet box, propped open to display the most gorgeous oval-cut diamond ring I’d ever laid eyes on.

“Matty,” I repeated, this time aloud, as I found my voice again. I took a cautious step toward him and wrapped my hands around his outstretched wrist.

“Taylor... baby?” Matthew prompted, his voice strained, shaky. I suddenly realized that the man in front of me had just poured out his soul to me — promising forever, promising a home together, promising a shared legacy of love, joy, and children. And I had yet to give him the answer he was seeking, or any answer at all. His question hung in the ocean air — time stood still.

“Yes! Oh, yes, Matty, yes! Of course!” I choked out, both of us suddenly overcome with nervous and relieved giggles. He sprung to his feet to kiss me, taking my face in his hands and giving me a firm, lingering kiss.

“Can I put the ring on you now?” Matthew asked when he finally pried his lips away from mine. It was then that reality hit and the tears started to flow.

“Yes! Yes, baby.” I held out a shaking left hand to him, which he stroked with his thumb and kissed sweetly before pulling the ring from the box and slipping it onto my finger.

“Oh, my god, it fits perfectly! It’s so beautiful, Matthew!” I exclaimed, gasping at how truly remarkable it looked on my hand. I had imagined what this moment would be like for so many years, ever since I was a young girl with blue glasses in Mrs. Kingsley’s first grade class at McKinley Elementary, watching Matthew play tag from across the playground. The gravity of this moment overwhelmed me and exceeded my every long-held expectation.

The tears continued as I held my hand up to Matthew, showing off my newest accessory. He grinned widely.

“Stay right there, baby,” he instructed, fumbling for his phone in his shorts pocket. “I wanna remember this.” He eventually retrieved the device from his pocket and snapped a quick photo of the momentous occasion before putting his phone away once more. He pulled me in close, our chests flush against each other, hearts racing, and we shared dozens more kisses and laughs there on the shore, both realizing that our forever started tonight.

_____

“Are you happy?” Matthew whispered. My eyes opened and I turned my face up toward his.

“Am I happy?” I asked with an incredulous scoff. “Baby, I’m the happiest,” I reassured. “You make me the happiest.” I sat up further in my plane seat and kissed his cheek, and he smiled down lazily at me. “Good. That’s all that matters to me,” he said.

“Are you happy?” I countered.

He waited a beat, looking deeply into my hazel eyes. “The happiest. The luckiest,” he whispered, stroking my chin with his thumb. I kissed the digit as we stared at each other in content, peaceful silence.

_____

An hour later, our flight landed at Boston Logan Airport. Matthew picked up our suitcases from baggage claim, and we were off to join the Tkachuks at the Cape.

I placed my aviators on my nose as I walked through the automatic doors at the airport’s exit, my newly dubbed fiancé just a step behind me.

“Where’s the car?” I asked over my shoulder, knowing that Matt had arranged for his usual car service to pick us up and haul us to the vacation home.

“Oh, uh... right there.” Matthew threw his head casually in the direction of a black stretch limousine further down the pickup lane. My jaw went slack.

“Matty...” I whispered, peering at him over my sunglasses. “You never get a limo!” He threw his head back in an easy laugh. “Well, I never get engaged, either! Until now,” he remarked. He kissed my cheek and patted my ass lightly with the closed hand that also held his duffle.

“Now, come on, my bride-to-be,” he encouraged. “We’ve got places to be.” I shook my head in disbelief as he sauntered toward the limousine.

_____

Just over an hour later, Matthew and I were pulling into the driveway of the beautiful summer home his family had owned for years. My heart flooded with anticipation. I could not wait for us both to go bounding into the house with our big announcement and be surrounded by loved ones.

“Should I wear my ring? Or should I try and hide it somehow?” I asked quickly, turning toward Matthew as I finished applying some lip gloss, the last step of freshening up my appearance after a long flight.

“You can do whatever you wanna do, babe,” he said, leaning forward and insisting on kissing my freshly-glossed pout. He licked his lips immediately and moaned. “Mmm, peppermint,” he said in a low voice. I chuckled and placed a hand against his cheek, knowing we were sure to celebrate the occasion alone many more times throughout tonight, hopefully after some rest.

“I’m just gonna wear it,” I told him. A grin spread wide across my face as I added, “I’m not gonna be able to keep the news in for long anyway.” Matthew smiled brightly. “Me either, T. Me either,” he told me, kissing my left hand as he had countless times already.

I drew a deep breath and smoothed my fingers over the fabric of my white sundress as the car pulled to a stop in the circular drive in front of the house. It was only when I looked out the window that I noticed all the cars parked alongside the perimeter that I had apparently been too busy to see while primping.

“Matty... what are all of these cars doing here? Who’s here?” I asked softly, frozen, eyes wide. Matthew’s smirk overtook one side of his face.

“Why don’t you go see, babe?” he prompted. I opened my mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to do, or say, or even think.

“Okay,” I finally whispered, taking the hand he had offered me as we moved out of our seats, leaving our belongings behind.

Hand in hand, we walked into the breezeway and through the side door of the house. It was... empty?

I looked up at Matthew, about to ask again why there were so many vehicles in the drive, when a familiar voice called out to us from the back porch.

“Out here!” Chantal...

Matthew was now openly beaming at me, ornery chuckles racking his chest as he gently guided my rigid form to the back sliding glass door. One glance outside stole my breath.

All of his family, all of my family, and dozens of our friends and his teammates stood together in the yard, crowded around tables decked in white, with bundles of silver and white balloons tied together with gold tulle scattered across the lawn. Among the balloon bunches were giant helium-filled diamond rings, and a banner reading “Congratulations, Matthew and Taylor!” was draped across the front of the cabana by the pool.

From where I stood just inside the door, I saw all four of the Tkachuks, my parents, my brother Sean, and my sister Erin huddled together on the deck, the other guests in the yard below starting to cheer as Matthew tenderly pulled me outside. “Come on, babe,” he coaxed with a smile. “There are some people here to see you.”

Tears stung my eyes as I finally stepped outside, clutching Matthew’s hand tightly, fully relying on him to support me and hold me up, both physically and emotionally, just as he always had.

My mom stepped forward from the group first, cupping my face in her hands, tears falling freely onto our cheeks.

“Mommy... you knew!” I said breathlessly. My dad came toward me next, eyes damp, kissing the top of my head. “You all knew!” I exclaimed, loudly enough that many of our other guests several yards away started laughing.

“We knew, sweetheart. Your wonderful fiancé has had all of this planned for quite some time!” my mother explained, pulling away from a tight hug.

“I can’t believe you came all the way from St. Louis!” I told my parents. With a squeeze of my hand, my dad said, “Of course we did. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I threw my arms around them once more, then turned to Keith and Chantal, the sight of them causing me to cry harder.

“Oh, honey! Don’t cry! We’re so happy for you guys,” Keith told me, pulling me close for a hug and kiss on the cheek, his chest vibrating with laughter, as Chantal put her arms around both of us. “So happy, Taylor,” she said, her voice tight as tears escaped her.

Matthew came toward us, having already been greeted warmly by his parents and siblings, and rubbed my back soothingly, his siblings in tow. “I would say welcome to the family, but you’ve already been part of the family for years now, so congratulations, T!” Brady mused, ducking past his brother to wrap me in a suffocating hug, lifting me slightly off the ground.

“Don’t break my sister!” Taryn warned, swiping under her damp eyes. The three of us laughed together, Brady slinging an arm around my shoulder while Taryn enveloped me warmly, sobs shuddering our shoulders. “You’re marrying my stupid brother! What the hell,” she laughed. I pulled back and looked at her with a giddy chuckle. “What the hell!” I echoed emphatically.

Matthew laughed along as he pulled away from hugging both my siblings, who then stepped forward to greet me, Erin squealing as the three of us jumped up and down a few times, arms circling one another. Matthew put his arms around my waist after Erin and Sean each hugged me and kissed my face, rushed words of congratulations and disbelief flying from their lips, as if they’d been holding them in for ages. I leaned back against Matthew’s chest for a moment before turning in his grasp.

“They all knew,” I said in awe. “Everybody knew!” Matthew nodded, carefully swiping his thumb under my eyes so as not to completely wreck my makeup. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to tell them yourself, but I just wanted everyone to be here with us to celebrate,” he said.

“Matty, don’t you dare apologize! The last twelve hours have made me so goddamn happy — I can’t even explain it,” I told him, gripping his white button-down at his waistline as I kissed him firmly, his insistence about the two of us wearing similar outfits for the flight home finally making sense.

“Me too, Taylor. Honestly. I just wanna spend the rest of my days making you as happy as I possibly can,” he told me, his blue eyes sparkling from a few happy tears.

I could not believe that my strong, stubborn, sassy fiancé was crying again for the second time in less than one full day. I kissed the tip of his nose and tucked some of his hair behind his ear.

“You are just full of surprises, Matthew Tkachuk,” I told him, slinging my arms around his neck.

He angled his face closer, stopping just short of pressing his lips on mine.

“You sure you’re ready for a lifetime of me, future Mrs. Tkachuk?” he asked. My heart soared. He guided my hips to sway back and forth gently, the sort of natural, comfortable, everyday dance I was fully prepared to enjoy for the rest of time.

“Hell yeah,” I mumbled against his lips, joyful tears springing to my eyes once more, as our mouths finally met.

[exhaustedfander]

May I request an "not-so-secretly dating/and they were roommates" human au fic with any ship, like none of the others know they even know each other and are surprised that they're together?

Analogical is always a joy to write, and this prompt was a lot of fun. I’d love to hear what you think! 

ao3 link

Word Count: 2,566

As You Wish 

Virgil sits in the darkened living room, scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr when he hears the creaking of floorboards and turns to see Logan standing behind the couch.

“Hey, L,” he greets lazily, smiling as Logan leans to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“It’s late,” Logan comments as if Virgil doesn’t already know that. But he isn’t just saying it to say it, and Virgil knows that too.

“Are you…” Logan trails off, losing his nerve but Virgil smiles.

“Yeah, I’m coming to bed. Don’t get your tie in a twist,” Virgil says with a laugh, setting his phone aside and standing up. Even in the mostly dark room, he can see the relief etched into Logan’s face.

“I – I wasn’t –,” Logan stutters, cutting himself off when Virgil wraps his arms around him, perching his chin on his shoulder.

“You weren’t… what? Going to ask me to come to bed with you?” Logan remains silent and Virgil’s lips curl into a smirk. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“It’s important for you to get an optimal amount of rest,” Logan says quietly, still held tightly in Virgil’s embrace.

“Oh, and that’s the only reason you want me to sleep in your bed, then? Because I’ve got a perfectly good bed in my room,” Virgil says, positive that Logan’s face is breaking out into a blush. “You don’t want to cuddle?”

“Fine,” Logan says tersely, though there’s nothing but fondness in his tone, “I also want you to come with me because I want to… cuddle with you. Are you satisfied with that answer?”

“Oh, extremely,” Virgil says pulling away and leaning down to press another kiss to Logan’s lips. “Lemme go brush my teeth and I’ll be right there.”

Virgil walks into Logan’s bedroom after getting ready for bed, though he isn’t sure if it can just be called Logan’s room anymore. After all, for the past several weeks, Virgil’s been sleeping there, he’s got multiple articles of clothing in Logan’s closet and personal items strewn about the room. He might even dare to call it their room at this point, though maybe just in his head. At least, for now.

That’s how things had started. Virgil’s never had a very healthy sleep schedule. As a result, his insomnia keeps him awake late into the night most of the time, and he’s usually lucky if he got four or so hours. This was something he’d been used to for a long time, something he hadn’t ever expected to change. That was until Virgil had found out about Logan’s fear of storms.

Virgil and Logan had been friends for several years, having met in high school and rooming together in college. They were closer than Virgil had been with anyone; he hadn’t known what it was like, to know someone so well, and in turn, to be known so well. With that being said, Logan had managed to keep this fear under wraps for years, only letting it slip once he let out a loud yelp as lightning crackled outside the window, followed by a clap of thunder.

Virgil recalls how he ran into Logan’s room, afraid that something must’ve happened to him, only to find his friend huddled and trembling on his bed, with his head tucked between his knees. In all of the time that they’d known each other, this was the first time Virgil had ever seen his friend so vulnerable.

Logan had asked him to leave him alone, but Virgil wasn’t that dull. He couldn’t Logan in such a state, regardless of how embarrassed he must’ve been, so he stayed the whole night with him, refusing to leave his side. Virgil’s presence lulled Logan into a state of calm, and for the first time in years, Virgil slept the whole night through.

They did their best to dance around one another, but their apartment was only so big, and their feelings were inescapable. Within a few days, they’d confessed a love that had been budding all the time they’d known each other, a love that was the real reason they continued to live together, despite not really having to. A love that neither of them understood in full, but desperately wanted to learn more about.

They’ve only been dating for a few short weeks now, and so many things are still unsaid, still unknown, but it’s a hopeful kind of mystery, one that Virgil’s happy to explore. Virgil slides into bed beside Logan, immediately pulling him close.

“Don’t forget it’s our turn to host movie night tomorrow,” Virgil reminds Logan, pressing a kiss to his cheek before pausing. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Logan says, hoping Virgil will believe him. A foolish thought, really. Virgil turns over, flicking the bedside lamp back on, no longer allowing Logan’s insecure to be shrouded in darkness.

“Bullshit,” Virgil says sharply, but worry permeates his voice all the same, “You just went all stiff – also, I know you. What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” Logan lets a sigh roll past his lips as Virgil stares intently, his chin propped on his arms and eyes studying every aspect of his expression.

“Okay,” Logan says, sighing again because he wasn’t expecting to have this conversation tonight, “I’ve been wondering…”

“Yeah?” Virgil asks, coaxing softly.

“I’ve been wondering… if you think I’m a good boyfriend.” The look that flashes across Virgil’s face is positively incredulous.

“What?! Lo, what kind of question is that? Of course, I think you’re a good boyfriend! I love you.” Virgil’s spine straightens as he bolts into a sitting position.

“I love you too,” Logan says, sitting up too and meeting Virgil’s somewhat frantic gaze, “Very much. It’s just… I’m not sure if I’m doing what’s expected of me.”

“What’s expected of you?” Virgil asks, confused as ever, “Babe, what the hell are you talking about?” Logan reaches for his glasses that are set on the nightstand on, slipping them on with a slightly trembling hand.

“I haven’t taken you on a real date yet.”

“Okay, yeah, but I haven’t taken you on a real date, either,” Virgil counters, “It’s a two-way street. Also, we hang out all the time. We go get coffee or to movies together constantly. I don’t care what we’re doing, as long as I’m spending time with you.” Logan only slightly resents the warmth that blooms in his chest as a result of the sentimental statement. Virgil’s always been exceptionally good at making Logan feel better, but that can’t hinder the fact that self-consciousness has cocooned him.

“I – well, I-I enjoy spending time with you too, obviously,” Logan stutters, his hand settling near his neck reflectively before he remembers he’s in his pajamas, and as a result, void of a tie to straighten, “But it feels like there are things largely expected of me that I haven’t done.” Virgil quirks an eyebrow.

“Like what?”

“I haven’t ever gotten you flowers.” Virgil can’t help it; he lets out a laugh.

“Babe, they die in a couple of days. I don’t need you to buy me flowers.”

“Yes, but, the other day you got me a coffee and a brownie from that bakery I like just because you were ‘thinking of me’,” Logan says.

“I was thinking about you,” Virgil says, “Is that what’s getting you so worked up? A pastry? You get me coffee all the fucking time, L.”

“But- but it’s different now. You’re my boyfriend, and I… I haven’t been doing enough.”

“Oh, Logan,” Virgil coos, a tone of voice that makes Logan feel light and airy, “Baby, no. Is that what you think? That you aren’t doing enough for me?” Virgil asks, taking Logan’s hand in his. Logan does his best to swallow the building lump in his throat.

“I… I suppose,” Logan muttered, shame tinting his words.

“And yet I’m the one with crippling anxiety,” Virgil mutters, half to himself, before squeezing Logan’s hand, “I’m so sorry, babe. I had no idea you felt this way.” Logan averted his eyes.

“You had no reason to. I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve known,” Virgil says, his thumb grazing a gentle circular pattern over his boyfriend’s knuckles, “I need you to know that you’re absolutely enough for me. Logan, you’ve been my best friend for years, and I’ve loved you for nearly as long. We’re not exactly taking the convention route here – and that’s okay! We don’t need to go on ‘official’ dates right away. You don’t need to buy me flowers – hold on, do you want me to buy you flowers?” Logan bit his lip, but the blush that infiltrated his face was incrementing all the same.

“Okay, I’m definitely getting you flowers.”

“Y-you don’t have to.”

“Shut up,” Virgil said, though not unkindly, “I love you, Logan Croft, and I mean that with all my heart.” Logan lets out a deep breath, leaning his head against Virgil’s shoulder, their hands still linked.

“I love you too. Very much. I apologize; I’ve been acting irrationally. It’s just…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Virgil insists, and Logan wants to believe him, “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Silence settles over the pair for a long moment, and Logan is about to turn the lights off and pull the covers back over them before Virgil speaks up again.

“Do you still want to do Movie Night tomorrow? We can reschedule if you want.”

“Yes,” Logan answers, lost in the beautiful rare sight that was Virgil without his makeup (Not to say that the eyeshadow isn’t a good look because really, it is). Logan often can’t believe this wonderful person, so incredible and full of wit and dark humor has chosen him. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone. I know everyone was looking forward.” “They’ll live, if you don’t want to,” Virgil says, his tone not shying away from seriousness, “I mean it, you know. I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” Logan takes a deep breath.

“And you are comfortable, then?” Virgil blinks, confession settling onto his face.

“Huh?”

“You’re comfortable telling our friends about us,” Logan clarifies, “Roman, Remus, Patton, and Janus. You’re alright with telling them?”

“I’m comfortable with whatever you’re comfortable with,” Virgil says simply, “And if you aren’t, then we’ll wait. Okay?”

Logan can’t help but feel surprise wash over him. He supposes he’d expected Virgil, so riddled with anxiety and self-doubt, to have a similar reaction, a similar hesitation. But he isn’t. He seems perfectly fine with telling their friends about the status of their relationship.

It isn’t as though Logan expects a poor reaction. It’s not exactly a secret that Logan and Virgil have feelings for each other and have for some time. But for whatever reason, Logan can’t shake the self-doubt that he isn’t ready, that maybe something’s missing. Virgil is ready, though, and he’s keeping him from that. He doesn’t want to do that, regardless of how irrationally scared he may be.

“Feelings are… a difficult thing,” Logan manages, though his words aren’t quite cooperating with him.

“Yeah, they can be.”

“I don’t always know how to make sense of them,” Logan continues, “Oftentimes, I feel so blindsight by them. And… I’m sorry, for how hesitant I am. And how much of a learning curve loving you has been.”

“You don’t need to keep saying sorry,” Virgil urges. Logan worries his bottom lip, his head still resting on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Be that as it may, I’m glad that I’m learning. I can’t thank you enough for your patience and understanding… We should, uh, continue movie night as scheduled.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“I’m positive,” Logan says (he is by no means positive, but it sounds a lot better than ‘maybe’).

The roommates drift to sleep not long after that, whispering repeated words of love and affirmation. Logan can’t help but feel a little better, despite the self-doubt that’s been eating at him.

In the morning, Virgil wakes to find breakfast prepared for him.

“You’re too sweet, Lo. You didn’t have to,” Virgil says, greeted with a kiss.

“No, but I wanted to.”

Later, when Logan arrives home, he finds a small bouquet of blue flowers sitting on the table addressed to him, and his heart soars.

=+=

By the time that everyone has arrived for movie night, Virgil isn’t too sure what to expect. He’ll give Logan as much space as he needs, just as he said, but Logan’s had an uncharacteristic pep in his step all day long, and it doesn’t seem to be diminishing, even in the company of friends.

“I think we should watch a romance,” Roman declares, earning a groan from his brother.

“UGH – you always want a romance. Where’s the flavor? The blood and guts?” Remus asks, earning a playful swat from Janus that does little to shut him up.

“It’s Logan’s turn to pick a movie out,” Virgil points out, and suddenly all eyes are on the nerd, “It’s your choice, L.” Logan thinks for a moment, eyes scanning the films on the shelf.

“The Princess Bride,” he says, earning a look of surprise from everyone in the room. “What? Is no one interested?”

“It’s not that,” Patton says softly, his shock just as evident as everyone else’s, “It’s just kind of a… surprise, coming from you, teach. That’s all.”

“That’s gotta be the understatement of the century,” Roman declares dramatically, “This nerd, picking such a movie has to be some kind of scientific anomaly or something!”

“Would you all rather we watch something else, then?”

“No,” Virgil cuts in, fondness evident in his voice, “No, that’s the movie you chose. Let’s watch The Princess Bride.” The rest of the group continues to mumble about the surprising choice, but no one raises an issue with it and the movie is popped in and Janus puts some popcorn in the microwave. When the timer beeps, Virgil nudges Logan.

“Hey, L, can you get the popcorn?” Virgil asks and Logan nods. He rises to his feet, before cupping Virgil’s cheeks softly, their lips meeting just briefly before he pulls away.

“As you wish, my starlight.” Virgil breaks out into a blush as he watches Logan retreat into the kitchen and the friend group breaks off into chatter.

“I knew it!” Roman says.

“That’s the worst lie I’ve heard in a while,” Janus snipes, “Let’s be real, Roman, you had no idea.”

“Awww, you guys,” Patton coos at an embarrassed looking Virgil, “Why didn’t you say anything? This is so sweet!”

“The emo nightmare and the nerd are screwing!”

“REMUS!” Several voices screech, but Logan’s riding the wave of emotion far too much to pay much mind to what’s going on in the next room, especially when Virgil sneaks up behind him and wraps him in an embrace, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“You little shit,” Virgil mutters affectionately, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Nice reference.”

“Thank you,” Logan says, turning around in his arms with a bright smile.

Logan knows he still has a long way to go in terms of understanding his emotions and acclimating to being in a relationship, but he’s sure this is a good start. Virgil thinks so too, kissing him in the kitchen until Remus walks in and wolf-whistles and the movie begins. Logan and Virgil hold each other the whole way through, their smiles unwavering.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex

@maryann-draws

@bella-in-a-bag

@igonnatalknothing

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist! I’d be happy to add folks! 

[noyin]

This is Logan to Ground Control

AO3 Here!

Rating: G

Pairing(s): Logicality, Familial Analogical, Background Prinxiety

Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Outer Space, Astronaut!Logan, Familial Virgil And Logan, Angst, it's sad, Also I Know Nothing Of Spaceships, Inspired By: Space Oddity By David Bowie, Oneshot, Stream of Consciousness

Summary:

Ground Control to Logan, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong... Can you hear me, Logan? Can you hear me, Logan? Can you hear me, Logan?

---

It was usually so quiet.

Occasionally, Logan would find himself singing to himself to fill up the emptiness that seemingly filled everything these days. He missed the sound of singing in the morning, the smell of slightly burnt pancakes overlapped with bacon, the warmth of the bed and a body draped over him, peppering his face with kisses.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," came a cheerful voice.

Logan woke up to the circular window overhead. And thousands of stars looked back at him. The vast expanse of space was absolutely beautiful and breathtaking, it never ceased to amaze Logan. Even as a little boy, he would spend hours under the night sky, and his bedroom had been filled with astronomy books and a telescope by the window. Yet, the longer he looked at the window, the clearer it became, that the vastness of space only meant it was also incredibly-

Lonely.

Wetly, that same voice told him, Hey, bring me back a souvenir from the moon. A piece of rock floated around the room, the same greyish white one that had been for the passed three months.

Logan undid the snap that held him in place on his bed. The snap felt like a cruel imitation of an arm. So, sometimes he would float in his sleep.

As he usually did—even in space, Logan held routine to a high standard—he first pulled out a photograph from his dark blue jumpsuit pocket. It had gone soft around the edges and it was folded in some places, a testimony to how much it had been loved. It was a picture of a man and a boy, the man whose smile warmed him, and the boy whose grimace always made him chuckle.

We love you, come back soon, was written on the bottom in faded, loopy black ink.

Logan gently set the picture back in his pocket. Something bitter caught in his throat and he got all misty-eyed, as he usually did. That was a normal, human emotion, Logan deduced. Yes, it was only natural that he missed his husband and son.

 I wonder if they're happy…

Logan floated through the claustrophobic cylindrical innards of the ship, making his way to the galley. Breakfast wasn't anything interesting, just a piece of jerky and a sip of coffee.

Okay, he thought to himself, skimming the supplies in the locker as he chewed the jerky. That would be...three hundred and twenty five days.

He marked that on the paper taped to the locker.

Floating away from the galley, he went into another smaller, spherical room, that had no windows and was kept quite dim. He sat on the seat in the middle and buckled in, then turned on the computer that sat opposite of him.

"Day one hundred and ten, it is currently zero nine-hundred, UTC. This is flight engineer Logan of the space shuttle, T. Sanders. It has been ninety five days since I lost contact with Ground Control and the rest of the crew," Logan said. He swallowed. "Today, I'm continuing my repair on the unusual kink in the OMS engine. I'm fairly certain there's a problem with the hydraulics, some kind of issue with the heating and cooling. As far as I'm aware, as of now, it is unsafe to maneuver." Logan inhaled. It was harder to keep his voice level. "However, if it is as serious as I believe it to be, then..." Logan trailed off.

His hand slid into his pocket and he caressed the photograph's worn face. I won't be returning.

"I don't- I'm unsure if I have the necessary parts on board. To- to fix it. And I don't know if it's worth taking the risk, to make the return to Earth on a damaged ship. If I do make the decision, it must be now, as I'm coming up on Mars in a few weeks. And I only have so many resources."

Quickly muttering his closing, he saved the video with the rest of the entries of his electronic journal, and shut the computer off. Logan made his way out of the room, floating down the halls to the flight deck.

He started talking again—he did that a lot as of late, he realized. Strangely, he found himself addressing the company he didn't have, or wished he had, and Logan knew it was simply a coping mechanism he had made up. Because, some days felt on the brink of a breakdown and that was the thread holding him together.

"How are you doing today, Patton? Have you done anything new? I know you were working on a garden before I left. I'm sorry I'm useless when it comes to plants. I know, I have a degree in science and engineering, so you'd imagine I would at least have some sort of 'green thumb,' as you put it. But that's why I need you, bumblebee." Logan smiled. "I'm glad gardening makes you happy. I only ever want to see you smile."

Logan turned the corner.

"Oh, good morning, Virgil. Are you doing okay recently? How has therapy been? I know you didn't tell me, but I heard from Dad that you found yourself a boyfriend. Is Roman kind to you, Virgil? It's funny how you met him at the cafe, it reminds me of your Dad and I. You should invite him over for supper. I would love to meet him."

Logan stopped muttering to himself when he finally reached the flight deck. Much like the rest of the ship, it was completely empty, save for several chairs and the control console. There was a window that stretched across the room, displaying the thousands of light years of space, stars, and unknown. Had Logan not been looking at it the whole time, had Logan not been in space for what felt like ages, he guessed he would have never gotten tired of such a sight.

Logan clawed his way to the intercom.

Logically, he knew that using it would have the same outcome as any other time. Illogically, as humans wished to think sometimes, he hoped for a newer outcome. Pushing the button, he spoke.

"This is flight engineer Logan to Ground Control. Can anybody hear me? Over."

Static.

"I repeat, is there anybody there? This is flight engineer Logan to Ground Control. I'm the only remaining crew aboard the Space Shuttle, T. Sanders. Over."

Static.

Logan dropped his head.

"Please."

Silence.

What else was he expecting?

Dejected, Logan let his hand slip from the intercom. He glanced to the window and floated up to it. He wet reflection shined clear on the glass and he laid his forehead on the cold smoothness. All he could see was space. Beautiful, beautiful, lonely space.

Don't get too lonely up there.

He held his husband close. He smelled distinctly of bread. No. Sugar. No. Logan couldn't remember.

I'll be back before you know it, love. It's a small mission to retrieve a satellite. Nothing should go wrong.

You promise?

I promise.

Logan tapped his forehead against the glass. Of course. Of course everything had to go wrong. There had to be a problem with the ship, there had to be a loss of contact from Ground Control, and there had to be a malfunctioning escape pod that shot before Logan could get in.

We love you, come back soon.

Logan dug the picture from his pocket, slamming it against the window pane. He stared at it, he stared at the wedding band around his finger, all through teary eyes.

"Dammit," Logan cursed.

Logan slipped away from the window.

He knew it was very stupid, what he was about to do. The odds of death were incredibly high, but Logan thought, what did it matter? He was going to die anyway, alone, in the vastness of space.

Logan slid into the pilot's seat and fastened his belt, then reached over to the intercom, shaking, crying, his voice thick.

"This is flight engineer Logan to Ground Control. With no given orders, I have made the executive decision to turn this vessel around. I'm charting a course back to Earth. If this message ever reaches Ground Control and I..." Logan stuttered. Pause. Inhale. "Tell- tell my husband I love him very much. Tell my son I love him very much." Releasing the intercom, Logan took in a big breath. "Though, I'm sure they know."

[lovelylogans]

syzygy

warnings: miscommunication, bed sharing, joking about having anxiety, kissing/romantic content, let me know if i’ve missed anything!

pairings: logan/virgil/patton, analogicality

words: 4838

notes: we’re now allowed to reveal: this is for the secret santa’s over at @sanderssantas! this fic is for @mydarkstrangeson, who requested any combination of patton, logan, and virgil, and childhood sweethearts, college au, and friends to lovers! i have decided to tackle all of them! this was probably overambitious of me, but i loved, loved, LOVED writing this for you, so! happy holidays! 

If he were at all inclined toward analogy (he is not) he would compare his relationship with Patton and Virgil to a syzygy. 

It’s an astronomical term. From the ancient Greek, suzugos, yoked together. Three or more celestial bodies in a gravitational system. Usually in reference to the sun, earth, and moon, with the latter in conjunction or opposition. 

More often than not, they are in conjunction—the same right ascension, the same ecliptic longitude. There is an implication of apparent close approach—their appulse is at its very minimum.

Of course, it is an illusion. They are not actually close to one another, in space. Almost nothing is close to each other, in space. The vastness of space has been confounding humankind for millennia. It will continue to confound. 

That is where the analogy falls apart. He’s sure that Patton or Virgil could come up with better ones. But then, he is not inclined toward analogy. It’s simply a thought exercise. Nothing more.

(If he has, perhaps, spent a few moments thinking of Virgil, dark hair glinting silver in the moonlight, and Patton, freckles grown more intense by the sunlight, turning his curls golden, well. That’s simply a thought exercise too. He supposes that would make him the earth—steady, consistent, predictable. Perhaps a bit dull in comparison. Fitting enough.)

There is also the concept that, in the literal sense, they are often close together. They cycle throughout their rooms—usually, they split the time evenly between Patton’s room, as it is cozy and well-decorated and has plenty of alternatives for sitting that aren’t just the ground, and Logan’s room now that it’s winter, as his room is warmest, but less time now in Virgil’s room, as it’s coldest—and, well. They have been friends for as long as Logan can remember. 

They’re close together now—Patton’s room, currently, as he has the most alternatives to seating and by far the most traditionally “cozy” environment—Logan’s at the desk, and he hears the clack-clack-clack of Patton’s knitting needles and the occasional huffing exhale that means Virgil’s reading something funny online. 

“Logan, the time,” Patton chides softly, and Logan grimaces, only because he’s certain Patton won’t see. 

“I’ll stop when I reach a convenient time.”

“You said that an hour ago,” Virgil points out, voice soft, grumbly, a little lazy—he must be tired, he’d been tossing and turning last night.

(It helps Virgil sleep, as he frequently stays up late fretting, and Patton seems to think that holding him down in some way will prevent him staying up late to study. It probably isn’t normal for three roommates to sleep in the same bed more often than not, but, well. The reasoning is sound.)

“You don’t need to stay up for me,” Logan says, turning slightly in his desk chair to see—Virgil’s lying at the foot of Patton’s bed, head resting on one of Patton’s many throw pillows (he’s probably putting some people on Etsy through college with his frequent pun-pillow purchases, it’s only kind of a problem) as Patton leans against the headboard, rainbow titanium knitting needles paused, for a moment. He’s trying for socks. He has never succeeded. They’ll unravel eventually. It does not stop Patton from trying.

“Yeah, we do, you and Virgil need to debate over who gets middle spoon tonight,” Patton says cheerfully. 

Patton almost always takes, to use the terminology, the big spoon, despite the fact that he is the shortest. However, he does give the best hugs, which makes up for any height deficiencies. Logan has a variety of data to back up the Patton-gives-the-best-hugs claim. There’s a spreadsheet involved.

However, he and Virgil never quite make up their minds when it comes to who takes middle or littlest spoon, and so—

“You can decide, Virgil,” Logan says mildly, turning back to his desk. “I don’t mind which. I don’t mind you going to sleep before me, either. I can go to my room to work.”

“You’ve been working all day today,” Patton says. “Finals don’t mean that you give up on healthy habits.”

“Uh-oh, he’s got that look on his face,” Virgil says, voice teasing. “He’s gonna start rambling about things that are really, blatantly wrong until you rush up and finish and we all start getting ready for bed.”

“...That doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Virgil says. “Patton, wouldn’t you say that sounds like a challenge?”

“I dunno, it sounds like as much of a challenge as recalculating that gyroscope,” Patton says cheerfully.

Logan pauses, curious, before he realizes that’s exactly what he wants and he forces his eyes to focus back on his laptop screen and resumes typing.

“What gyroscope, Patton?”

“Why, the laser gyroscope those flat-earthers tried to use in an experiment.”

“I know about this already,” Logan says, still refusing to turn, even though his eye is beginning to twitch at the sheer idea of flat-earthers.

"Mhm,” Patton says. “And, I mean, that gyroscope showed that... um, what’s it called?”

“Shift.”

“Flow.”

“Thrust.”

“Course.”

“Transferral.”

“Drift,” Logan bites out. “Gyroscopes show a drift when it leans off-axis.”

“Uh-huh,” Patton says, pleased. “But, I mean. They did it wrong.”

Don’t say a word, don’t say a word, don’t say a word...

“They did that whole light thing, but that proves nothing. I mean, cause, obviously,” Patton says, “They spent about twenty thousand bucks on that gyroscope, but really, all you need to know on how the earth is flat is to just look at the horizon—”

It’s bait. Logan knows it’s bait. And yet—

“The horizon looks flat because the massive size of the Earth necessitates it looks small in proportion to us,” Logan says, striking furiously at his keyboard to finish his sentence and save his word file. “The Earth has an average diameter about eight thousand miles, in an estimate, and we aren’t able to make out the curves because—”

“Got him,” Virgil says, suddenly a lot closer than usual, and double-checking the file is saved before he slams Logan’s laptop shut.

“I wasn’t done with—!”

“Tomorrow is a new day and you can work on it then,” Virgil says, before securing his hands under Logan’s armpits and hauling him to his feet. “C’mon.”

“Bedtime, bedtime, bedtime,” Patton sings, already gathering up his pajamas and dancing his way into his bathroom, closing the door behind him with a click. 

Logan looks longingly at his laptop, before he says, “There’s no point in resuming my work, is there?”

“Nope, we’ll just stop you again,” Virgil says. “He watched that flat-earther documentary two days ago, I’m sure he’s got plenty of material to keep this up.”

Logan sighs. He scoops his laptop into his arms, and he goes back to his room. He plugs in his laptop and his phone and gets ready for bed—pajamas, brushed teeth, washed face. 

He returns to Patton’s room to see Virgil sitting on Patton’s bed, eyes closed as Patton smears some kind of moisturizing... something-or-other on his face, and Logan feels a slightly worrying swell in his chest region—the only reason it isn’t fully worrying is because it’s been doing that when he sees Patton and Virgil together for years.

“...I mean, you really should hydrate more, that’ll help your skin, and it’s winter so everyone’s getting dry skin, ya know?” Patton says, continuing whatever conversation they’d been having, and then his face brightens at the sight of Logan, making grabby hands. “Logan! C’mere, lemme smear goo on your face, I accidentally squeezed out too much.”

Logan sits on the bed, hands Virgil his glasses, and obligingly closes his eyes. There’s the sound of Virgil setting his glasses on the nightstand, and then Patton’s hands are on his face. The lotion—or goo, Logan supposes—smells pleasantly of chamomile. It’s a little cool, but Patton’s hands warm it up soon enough. Patton rubs the lotion into his face in soft, circular motions, humming softly, and the sensation of it, the comfort of it, would be enough to send Logan to sleep. 

“All right, you’re moisturized,” Patton says, and Logan opens his eyes to see Patton smoothing the remnants of the goo into his hands. 

“Middle spoon?” Virgil says.

Logan shrugs. “I don’t have a particularly strong opinion either way.”

“Are we doing the spoon thing tonight?” Patton asks. “There’s a lot of other ways to snuggle.”

“I don’t have a particularly strong opinion either way,” Logan repeats.

“Virgil?”

“Nope.”

“Okay!” Patton says brightly, and flops down on his back, lifting up his arms. “Get in here, we haven’t done the whole Human Pillow thing in a minute.” 

Patton has a variety of ridiculous terms for their body placements at night. It should not be as endearing as it is.

Logan and Virgil meet eyes, as if to roll them at each other, but they’re really just exchanging an ah, that’s our Patton kind of look, and so Logan settles under the covers before he rolls onto his side, placing his head on Patton’s chest, and Virgil shuts off the light. There’s the adjustment of covers that means that Virgil is settling in a mirror position.

And then—

“I love this,” Patton says happily. “It’s like a sleepover!”

“You say that every night,” Virgil says, like every night. 

“And every night it’s true,” Patton says, like every night.

“And every night, we exchange this dialogue,” Logan says, like every night. It’s dark, so no one can see him smiling.

“I mean, we’ve had sleepovers for forever,” Patton says. “Do you remember our first one?”

“Our first one was when we were babies and our moms were all snowed into my house,” Logan says. “According to legend, anyway.”

“Mm, I know,” Patton says. “But, I mean—what’s the first one you remember?”

Logan pauses, considering, before he says, “When you drew on your carpet, with crayon.”

“We were six!”

“The one where we watched Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses like three times,” Virgil says.

“An underrated movie,” Patton says, and then, smugly, “I think mine’s earlier than yours.”

“Well, if I had more time to ponder it—“ Logan begins.

“What’s yours, Patton?” Virgil says, cutting him off.

“Do you remember when we got married?”

"We got married?” Logan says, mind straining.

“We were little,” Patton says. “Really little.”

“...I think I do remember that, actually,” Virgil says, sounding a little stunned. “Yeah. Because I was the one who had to decide what we had to do first that day, I hated it when you guys did that.”

(—Patton and Logan are planning out their day as Virgil sits on the swingset, swinging just a little—not enough that he’s skyborne, just enough so that when he swings, the pole moves from blocking Logan’s face to blocking Patton’s face, so he can only see one of them at a time.

“It’d be fun!” Patton.

“It’s non-sense-i-cal.” Logan.

“It’s pretend, it doesn’t hafta make sense.” Patton.

“Have to,” Logan, “And it wouldn’t even take that long anyway.”

“So we could do it first!” Patton. “And then we could do what you and Virgil wanna do.”

Logan. Patton. Logan. Patton. 

“Virgil?” Logan. Virgil drags his heels in the dirt, so that he stops. The pole’s splitting them now—Patton to the right, Logan to the left, both looking at him expectedly.

Virgil chews his lip. This happens a lot, since he’s the quiet one—he ends up being the one who has to make the decisions. Virgil always feels his stomach twist whenever he has to, because what if he chooses wrong? What if they get mad at him because he’s made the worst choice ever and they stop being friends with him?

Virgil swallows, and says, “What’re the choices?”

“Oh, we’re gonna get married,” Patton says cheerfully.

“There’s three of us, we can’t get married,” Logan says pointedly.

“Which’s why it’s pretend,” Patton says. “I went to my cousin’s wedding last weekend and the ceremony was kinda boring but the after part was really fun ‘cause everyone was dancing and we got to eat really tasty food and there was CAKE and I got to eat three slices and so I wanna get married now—!”)

“...I think I do remember that, actually,” Logan says.

“Mm,” Virgil says. “You’re oldest, your memory’s going faster than ours.”

“My memory is impeccable,” Logan says. "I even remember the flowers Patton had in his bouquet, can you?”

“That’s not fair, you know a ton of scientific flower names,” Virgil says. “That was also, like, the main draw of you participating in the wedding, the fact that you got to talk about a ton of flowers.”

“It was a pretty bouquet,” Patton says. 

“Oxeye daisies, and black-eyed Susans, and honeysuckle, and chicory, and scorpion grass, aaaaand.... lilac, stolen from Mrs. Mariano’s tree.”

“Oh, she would have killed us if we’d been caught, you remember how protective she was over those?” Virgil says. “I can’t believe you talked me into that.”

“We were, like, four,” Patton says. “Or maybe five.”

“I was born with a strong, inherent sense of fear, age knows no bounds when it comes to debilitating anxiety,” Virgil says.

Both Logan and Patton hesitate, for a moment—Virgil joking about his anxiety could sometimes also be a clouded request for help, and it usually took Patton deducing tone and then informing Logan that the tone meant it was a request for help.

However, Patton continues, voice light, “Yeah, but we were young enough then that Logan could corrupt us both, as his extra two months of life—or one month, when it comes to me—was still a major implement in him corrupting us, don’tcha know?”

“Yeah, let’s blame it all on Logan,” Virgil says.

“Yes, that’s the logical course of action,” Logan says. “I’ll remember that the next time you need help on your science assignments.”

“Oh, come on! What’s yours is mine, and that includes your knowledge! Does our marriage mean nothing to you?” Patton teases, and there’s a jump in Logan’s chest. Our marriage. Their relationship has been going slowly enough—of course, Virgil’s anxiety is a factor, and Patton is of course willing to accommodate, because he’s kind like that, and Logan’s mostly following their lead—but, well... perhaps this marriage has been brought up for a reason. That’s something people do in relationships, bring up meaningful milestones either shared by other people or related memories. Perhaps this signifies a forward progression. 

Logan enjoys their relationship as is. Patton is open with physical expression like snuggling and cuddling and holding hands, and he gives them both kisses on the cheek every night before they actually sleep. Granted, Virgil is less inclined to physical affection, but he leans against Logan frequently and he expresses his affection in other ways; every playlist on his phone is curated by Virgil, and Virgil always makes his coffee in the morning exactly as he likes it, and new articles about scientific innovations pop up on his phone with some innocuous questions from Virgil that provoke explanations from Logan that Virgil always sits and listens to with an indulgent smile, even if Logan knows that Virgil doesn’t particularly care about quantum jitter or microsatellites or scientists’ brain shrinkage after an extended stay in Antarctica. He just does it so that Logan gets excited and that he will talk about it. They are remarkably good partners. He’d say boyfriends, but they haven’t had that discussion and he doesn’t want to presume.

But, well... perhaps a traditional kiss would be... nice.

“I hardly think our wedding at five, which we primarily had so you could dance and we could split the ding-dongs your mom packed you, was legally binding,” Logan says instead.

“Ah, but it was emotionally binding,” Patton says, and Logan makes a sound of distaste.

“You loooove us,” Patton teases. 

“Ugh.”

“Virgil, you looooove us too.”

“Ugh.”

“Hopeless, the pair of you,” Patton says.

“You have enough love for the pair of us,” Virgil says. “Without you, this marriage would be purely loveless.”

“I feel like I remember in someone’s vows that we promised to be best friends forever,” Patton teases.

(“—Okay,” Patton says, when they’ve all tramped back to the swingset in Logan’s backyard. “Now we gotta get married.”

“How do we do that?” Virgil says. “We say I do, right, is that it?”

“No!” Patton says and bounces on his toes. “They say these things called vows and people can write their own and a vow is like a promise, so we can just say things that we’ll all do for each other anyway and that way it’ll all be true.”

“Even though we aren’t actually getting married,” Logan says.

“Even though we aren’t actually getting married,” Patton agrees. “Okay, um—” He bites his lip for a second, before holding the bouquet between his arm and his chest, so he can take Logan and Virgil by the hands, so they’re all standing in a circle.

“You two gotta hold hands too,” he adds, and Logan takes Virgil’s hand. Patton’s hand is warm, and Logan’s is a little cool. Virgil hopes his hands aren’t sweaty or anything, ‘cause that’d be pretty gross.

“Okay,” Patton says. “Who wants to go first?”

There’s a pause, before Logan sighs and says, “I will, I suppose.”

Logan’s oldest, so Virgil guesses that makes sense. He usually goes first for a lot of things, which means Virgil will go next.

Logan pauses for a few seconds to think, before he squeezes their hands, takes a breath, and speaks.

“I promise to be best friends with you two for forever, even as we get older and real-is-tic-ally make other friends. I promise to at least try playing games that you suggest, even if I don’t like them very much, because you always play the games that I suggest too. I promise teach you everything I know as long as you teach me everything you know, so that between the three of us we know everything that we could know. And,” he adds, “I promise that I will always read to you when you ask me to, even if the books say things that don’t make sense like in that one story about the rabbit and the bear who keep saying they’re the best of beasts and that they can hear and smell all kinds of things and the worm who tells them both to shut up, because none of that can happen since animals cannot talk and—”

“Wedding, L,” Patton chides gently.

“Oh,” Logan says, looking a little embarrassed. “Right. Anyway. I promise to read with you and tell you stories about the stars when we don’t have any books.”

“We’re supposed to say I do,” Patton says brightly, and Virgil mumbles it to his feet at the same time Patton says it.

“Um,” Virgil says, and scuffs his shoe along the dirt. Because Logan’s vows were pretty good and Logan has lots to offer, as a husband, so what can Virgil even say? It’s not like he’s the best reader in the grade who seems like he knows everything. It’s not like he’s the nicest person in the grade, who always helps whenever someone drops anything or gets a scraped knee or gets overwhelmed and seems to always, magically, know just what to do to help. He’s just… he’s just Virgil. 

But he guesses they like just Virgil fine enough. He squeezes their hands.

“I promise to be best friends with you two forever,” he says, because that’s a pretty good place to start, he thinks, even if it’s copying from Logan. “Um. I, I promise to handle the spiders, ‘cause Pat’s scared of ‘em. And I promise that if we ever go to the ocean I won’t make Logan go in or think about everything we don’t know down there, because the ocean kinda freaks me out too. I promise to try and protect you from Drake Wicche, even if he freaks me out because he’s a big bully, ‘cause that’s what friends should do, protect each other. Um. I, uh, I promise to always listen whenever you wanna talk about something. An’ I promise I’ll try and help figure out how to make it better and look at it from all the angles that I can think of, and a few that probably won’t happen, but. Better safe than sorry. So. I’ll—I want to keep you safe. I’ll try my hardest to do that. To protect you. I promise.”

“I do,” Logan says, stalwart, and Patton echoes him, much softer, before he clears his throat and squeezes their hands.

“I love you both very much, and I value you both greatly,” Patton says. “Logan, I love it when you read to us, and when you try playing games, and when you teach us stuff, and when you tie our shoes, and when you wear those ties you really like. Virgil, I love the way you protect us, and when you help us decide what to do, and when you handle the spiders, and when you listen to us talk about stuff, and help us figure out stuff. I love you both very, very much, and I think being stuck with you both forever, well—it’d be a pretty good deal.”

A beat, and Patton adds, “And I promise to be best friends with you two forever and ever and ever, as long as we three shall live.”)

“Those were your vows,” Virgil says pointedly.

“Huh,” Patton says, and he sounds like he’s smiling. “Guess they were.”

A long pause.

“Sleep?” Patton asks.

“Sleep,” Virgil and Logan agree.

“Good,” Patton says, and, like it’s not even the slightest deviation from routine, leans to peck Logan, and Virgil, and that alone isn’t enough to deviate from routine, except he pecks them on the lips.

“Night!” He says brightly, as if he did not just drop their first kiss in the relationship on them out of nowhere. 

“Um?” Virgil says, voice squeaky.

A pause. “Hm?”

“Patton,” Logan says. “You just—kissed us.”

“...yeah?” Patton says, confused. “I... always do?”

“On the mouth,” Virgil says, strangled. “You kissed us. On the mouth.”

A horrified pause. “I didn’t.”

“Yes,” Logan says, heart fluttering. “Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did!” Virgil says, and he sounds panicked—well, Logan supposes it was a surprise, and Virgil doesn’t like surprises, but this is a pleasant surprise!

“No!” Patton says, and Logan is very suddenly jostled off of Patton’s chest, and Patton turns on the lamp, looking distressed, “No, I didn’t!”

“Yes!” Virgil says, already sitting up, eyes wild, hair sticking up as if he has the same reaction as cats do to being startled. “You did!”

“Can we stop repeating ourselves?” Logan says. 

“How are you not freaking out about this?!” Virgil demands. “Your boyfriend kissed me!”

At the same time, Logan says, “He’s your boyfriend too?” as Patton yelps, “My boyfriend?!”

“I—wait,” Virgil says. “My boyfriend?”

“Yes?” Logan says, looking between the pair of them. “We have been friends for a great period of time, we selected a college we would all be able to attend together, we have gotten an apartment together, we frequently share a bed, we have a standing engagement for dinner at least weekly, in addition to outings we all have together, and—“

And Logan’s stomach is sinking.

“—and I misinterpreted this, didn’t I?” Logan says. “It—it seemed like the logical progression of our relationship, we—“

“We just—hang on,” Patton says, and shoves his hands through his hair. He always looks strange without his glasses, but his eyes seem huge even without the natural magnification effect. “I��wait. Hang on. In the world’s tiniest sentences, can everyone tell me what we think is going here?”

“We’re all romantic partners,” Logan says, still feeling miserable. “I—I apologize if my revealing this has made you uncomfortable, I—“

“We’ll work it out, Lo, just—Virge?”

“I thought you two were dating,” Virgil says.

“Wha—just us?” Logan says.

“Well, yeah!” Virgil says. “You—Patton’s all lovey-dovey with you, and you always give him that look when he’s being particularly Patton, and I thought you two were—monogamous.”

“Virgil, I walked into Patton napping on top of you this afternoon,” Logan says.

“He’s a cuddler!”

“He cuddles both of us!”

“He was cuddling me because you weren’t there!”

“He cuddles both of us, because he’s our boyfriend!” 

“I thought we were all single and I was stuck hopelessly pining!” Patton wails, before he claps his hand over his mouth. 

“I—what?” Virgil says. “Patton, you could get anyone you want, I mean, you’re—you’re you.”

“I concur,” Logan says. “You are a fantastic boyfriend, or, well—“ He feels abruptly foolish, once again, “Or I thought you were.”

“I—okay,” Patton says. “Virgil. When did you think Logan and I started dating?”

“After you two came back from the planetarium and Patton was wearing your coat, during... junior year?”

“Of high school?”

“Yes, of high school,” Virgil grumbles. “You two are all—hand-holdy, and sweet, and I just—”

“Okay,” Patton says. “Logan, when did we all start dating?”

“I—well, I don’t know, really, we just—we all moved into the same apartment, and were all gradually becoming more physical, and we started sleeping in the same bed, I talked to Roman—“

“You talked to Roman?!”

“He’s the most qualified person I know to speak about romance,” Logan says defensively. 

“Roman thinks we’re dating?” Virgil says.

“Well, I suppose I lied to him, because apparently we’re not!” Logan snaps.

“I—hang on,” Patton says. “Okay. Let me get this straight. Virgil. Do you like me?”

Virgil looks panicked.

“Just a yes or no, do you like me like that?” Patton says. “No judgment.”

“I—well...” Virgil squirms. “Yeah.”

“And do you like Logan?”

“...yeah,” Virgil says quietly, looking at his hands.

“Okay. Logan—“

“I believe my stance was made clear,” Logan says.

“And mine,” Patton says, and looks—irritated?

“You said no judgment,” Virgil says, shrinking away.

“I could have been dating the pair of you since we were thirteen?!” Patton practically shouts. “I’ve missed out on eight years of boyfriendship because none of us can talk about our feelings?!”

“So,” Virgil says. “So you like us?”

“Hopelessly pining, V,” Patton says. “Of course I like you, oh my goodness, how could I possibly not like you two?”

Virgil’s eyes grow slightly shiny. “Really?”

“Yes, really, of course really,” Patton says. “L?”

“Oh, right, outward validation,” Logan says. “Yes, of course I like you. The both of you.”

Patton squeals, clapping his hands, and cups Logan’s face, pulls him in, and—

And oh. Patton’s extensive moisturizing campaign has extended to his lips, his soft, lush, slightly wet lips, his warm, beautiful lips, and Logan’s brain has gone so quiet and so awed and he has been thinking about this for years, years and years, he’s wanted this for years and he’s getting it and it almost feels like it isn’t real and—

They break, and Logan forces himself to not stare at Patton’s lips, but he doesn’t have much of a chance before Patton leans and cups Virgil’s face and—

And watching them is like watching an eclipse, sun and moon overlapping, Patton’s tan hands cupping Virgil’s pale cheeks, which are rapidly becoming rosy with a blush, and Virgil’s jaw flexes as they kiss, and kiss, and how does Logan feel lightheaded, he’s not even the one kissing right now?

They break apart with an appealing noise, and Patton says brightly, “Okay, now you two.”

“I—oh,” Logan says, and turns to Virgil. “I—yes?”

“Yes,” Virgil says, and Logan mimicks Patton’s stance—cupping Virgil’s cheek, and feeling his strong jaw is even more appealing than just staring at it—and he presses his lips against Virgil’s, rough and a little chapped because Virgil chews them so often, but they move just as smoothly as Patton’s do, and oh, there’s the lingering taste of Patton’s strawberry chapstick is lingering on Virgil’s lips, his cinnamon toothpaste, and—and—

Virgil draws back, and Logan blinks, and Patton giggles. 

“Hey, I’m just gonna say, again,” Patton says. “Eight. Years. We could have been doing this for eight years.”

“I can’t believe we’ve lived in a loveless marriage since we were four,” Virgil says, and then Logan feels like he’s bursting, and then—

He’s giggling. 

Patton and Virgil exchange a glance, delighted, and Patton leans forward, peppering kisses on Logan’s face, before he turns and does the same thing to Virgil, who flushes and ducks, shoulders hiking, but he has a soft secretive smile, and Logan can’t help but giggle even more.

“Well, we can’t possibly go to sleep now,” Patton says.

“Yeah,” Virgil says, “What on earth are we gonna do with all this free—“

Virgil’s mouth is suddenly occupied. With Logan’s mouth. Because Logan is kissing him.

Look, he’s not very inclined toward analogy, okay?

[chairismaticchair]

Star Crossed Enemies

Happy Holidays @yellowartistsunshine ! @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Summary:  When two rival theatre majors get cast as the leads in "Romeo and Juliet", something blossoms between them. Something beautiful.

This is Roceit, there are some swears. I had lots of fun writing this, especially since this was my first roceit fic!

If Roman despised a single person in the world with all his body and soul, that would be Janus Taylor. He hated how snagging lead roles in plays and musicals always became a fight between them. He hated how smug Janus constantly acted. He hated his stupidly posh accent that was only really obvious when he was on stage performing Shakespeare. He hated how he couldn't have any straight (not that it was possible with Roman any other way) or slightly logical conversation with Janus. He hated him, from the tip of his dumb black beanie, to the soles of his beige loafers. Overall, he hated Janus.

Whenever they passed in the college, there would be a flurry of middle fingers and middle-school-grade insults like "shit head" and "dumbass" thrown about with as much malice as two theatre majors could. They seemed to lose all common sense when in the mere vicinity of each other, instead becoming caricatures of theatre rivals. Arguably, that was exactly what they were.

"Taylor." Roman spat out. "I heard the LGBTQ+ Club's  putting up another play soon. Suppose you're going to want the lead role. But it's mine." He declared, as if no one had expected Roman Diaz Santos to want the lead role. 

Decei - shit sorry, Janus hissed back. "I heard it's gonna be Shakespeare, and guess who always gets Shakespeare roles? Me. Shithead." He added the “shithead” as an afterthought, as if this was his first rivalry and he had almost forgotten rule #315 of the Rivalry Book of Rivals.

They then tossed each other middle fingers like mutual salutes and marched off, heads held up high and refusing to turn back.

"Man, Janus really is a dick isn't he?" Roman complained to his best friend Virgil Teo, who sighed.

"Yes, Roman. Just like the -" He pulled out a notebook and made a little mark. "534 other times you've told me. This year. I don't even know what's that bad about him." 

"Well of course you don't get it. You two dated freshman year. Honestly, I thought you had better taste."

"And I do. That's why we broke up." Virgil slapped Roman's shoulder playfully. "Who are you to insult my dating life? You haven't had a single date since the start of college."

"I've had dates." Roman protested.

"Bad dates, Princey. Those don't count. Maybe you could send it to the Guinness World Records."

Roman gasped in mock annoyance. "How dare you, Virgil.” He gave a wistful sigh. “Anyways, I just want to find my soulmate. They’re out there, I can just feel it. A Juliet or Julien to my Romeo.”

"You're always are full of bullshit, aren't you, Roman?"

---

Patton, a senior, walked up to the front of the leture theatre and tapped the teacher on the shoulder. He whispered something in her ear and the teacher sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose frustratedly. "Hi! The LGBTQ+ Club is putting up two Shakespeare plays for this November! The first one will be a gay Romeo and Juliet, called Romeo and Julien. The other will be a sapphic 'Much Ado about Nothing'. Audition sign ups start next week Monday and end on Friday! Thank you!" Patton was very chirpy for 8 a.m. .

Now, this was when shit hit the fan and our story gets exciting. Roman turned to Virgil enthusiastically. "I'm totally auditioning for Romeo." Meanwhile, all students in the near vicinity who wanted Romeo's role sighed in unison.

Across the lecture theatre, Janus turned to his friend Remus excitedly. "I'm auditioning for Julien! This is gonna be great."

"For fucks sake." Someone in the near vicinity groaned and his friend patted his back sympathetically. 

---

Roman sat outside the auditorium, swinging his feet while waiting for his turn to audition. Walking down the corridor, Janus turned to Roman and picked up the chair beside him. He moved 6 feet away and plopped the chair down.

"So, Santos." He started, staring intensely at the auditorium door.

Roman found his shoes absolutely riveting. "Yeah?"

"What role are you auditioning for?" 

Tapping the side of his chair, Roman said, "The lead one, obviously."

"Oh." Janus paused and turned to look directly at Roman. Sticking out his hand, he gave him a slight smile. "Well may the best one win."

Roman took the hand hesitantly. "Yeah Janus. Break a leg."

---

The large board outside the auditorium was a crowd favourite among students. It was constantly updated with rehearsal times, casting choices and upcoming performances, you know, the classic cool stuff.

Roman and Janus were the first to arrive at the board and glanced at each other before looking down the corridor with longing. 

A boy with big circular wire framed glasses bounded down the corridor, an A4 paper in his hand. He waved excitedly at the two in front of him. "Hi Roman! Hi Janus! Waiting for results?"

The two nodded in synchronisation. 

"Oh, well I got them here!" He got out a stapler and stapled the paper to the board, the sleeves of his turquoise hoodie large and dangly. 

Romeo: Roman Diaz Santos

Julien: Janus Taylor

The two boys turned to each other in horror.

"Y - you mean -"

"You thought-"

"Julien."

"Romeo."

"WAS THE LEAD ROLE?"

The boy, Patton, looked at them in amusement. "Well, you both got main roles, so congrats! Rehearsals start in two weeks and I'll give you guys your scripts tomorrow. Have fun!" 

He patted them both on the back before heading off, skip in his step.

Janus and Roman turned to look at each other in horror once more. 

---

There is a moment in one's life, where they will reflect on everything they have done, and wonder what mistakes they had made to lead them down this path. As Roman flipped through the script Patton had handed him, that was exactly what he was doing. "You mean to say, I have to kiss this - this snake 5 times? Outrageous. Unacceptable."

They sat in a circle, everyone who participated in the play knee against knee. It was far too close for comfort and Roman was probably going to vomit onto the rest of the cast.

Virgil, who was in charge of lights and sound and sitting next to him, smirked. "Princey, this is literally a play about you two in love. 5 kisses are the minimum."

"And I am right here, you know." Janus looked slightly offended, leaning over and looking at Roman, who was a Virgil away. "And I'm not that bad at kissing. Ask Virgil. "

Virgil choked. 

Before Roman could retort, Patton interrupted them. "Okay guys! Don't forget to practice your lines. Rehearsals start in two weeks so I hope you manage to memorise some of your lines."

As they left the auditorium, Roman whispered to Virgil. "Is Janus actually good at kissing?"

Virgil just shrugged.

Patton called after the leaving group. "Roman? Janus? Please get whatever feud is going on between you two and throw it away. You two need to cooperate so that we can all work together. Go bond over the next few days. Thanks!”

Bond? With Janus? Roman never wanted to hear those words in the same sentence ever again. There was an odd creeping feeling that grew in his stomach and crawled up his throat invasively. It was foreign and weird. Maybe an allergic reaction.

“Oy! Janus! We probably have to - to get to know each other better.” Roman could feel heat spreading from his toes all the way to his cheeks. Why was he blushing? He should not be blushing. “So, do you wanna go grab some food tonight?”

Janus’ eyes widened and he physically stepped back. He pointed at Roman, before pointing back at himself. “You? Offering me? Dinner?” 

Roman shot a wink at Janus cheekily, before turning around to hide his blush. What was he doing? He never flirted with his rival. Was that even flirting? Tugging his hair down in a pitiful attempt to hide his burning red ears, he turned to Virgil. 

Virgil wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, before elbowing Roman in the side. “Stepping up your game, Santos? Impressive.” 

Roman blushed even harder, and looked away. 

---

Roman had had his fair share of dates, if that was what you called a dinner like this, and he never knew what to say. He pulled out his best card. 

“So...ya like jazz?” 

Janus choked on his iced lemon tea. "Fucking Bee Movie?” 

“Well, you do wear black and yellow 80% of the time, so you clearly like bees. Ergo, Bee Movie.”

An eyebrow was raised. “Impressive. You almost sound as smart as Logan.”

“I wish. He’s an absolute genius.” Logan was studying law, would probably become the valedictorian, and was dating Patton. Truly a legend.

“What’s your favourite animated movie then?” Janus asked. “Mine certainly is not the Bee Movie. There are loads of better Dreamworks films. I love Megamind."

“Oh, Megamind is really good! Choosing a favourite… that’s so hard though!” Roman bounced in his seat. Another movie lover? Perhaps, Janus wasn't too bad.  

Janus laughed and the food must have been tainted or something, because Roman’s heart skipped several beats. 

---

“Right! Let’s start at Act 1, Scene 5. You guys are at the party and this is when Romeo meets Julien for the first time. Action.” Patton, perched on the edge of a chair, announced, eyes shining with excitement. 

Roman glanced over at Janus, clad in a hoodie and jeans. He was flipping through his script and mumbling lines to himself. It was their first rehearsal so they were still allowed to look at their scripts. It also happened to be their first kiss scene. Pink tinted Roman's cheeks at the thought. Kiss… Janus? The two words seemed so foreign next to each other, yet they felt as though they were meant to be. He couldn't stop his eyes lingering over Janus' light pink lips. He turned away quickly, glancing at his script. Romeo kisses Julien.

Romeo.

Kisses.

Julien.

Shaking his head, he looked up at the people on stage, waiting for his cue. He had to stop thinking so much. Thoughts were dangerous. Who knows where they may lead?

Roman wondered what Janus' lips tasted like.

Oh for fucks sake. 

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Roman shoved his face back into the script, mumbling his lines under his breath and waiting for his queue to come on stage.

Stepping onto the stage, he channeled Romeo Shakespearean thoughts. It was a little hard in his button up shirt and jeans, but he was a professional. “What lord is that which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?” He gestured towards Janus. 

A server bowed politely. “I know not, sir.”

“Oh, he doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems he hangs upon the cheek of night. Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear, beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows. As yonder lord o'er his fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch his place of stand. And, touching his, make blessèd my rude hand.” He spoke to the audience, but couldn’t help think about how accurate this was. Janus too, was really hot. 

Roman spoke some more about how hot Julien was, and the rest of the rehearsal was a blur. He wasn’t Roman anymore. In front of this audience? He was Romeo, a rich lovestruck teenager. 

Then suddenly, he found himself staring into Janus’ eyes, and he was Roman all over again. 

Janus’ eyes, a deep, rich brown that gave Roman a steady look, pierced into Roman’s heart. He spoke towards the audience, but he sounded so genuine and sincere as he uttered his lines. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”

Roman gave Janus a soft smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Then move not, while my prayers’ effect I take.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned in and brushed Janus’ lips. It was hesitant, and soft, and he could hear Janus' quiet gasp, as if he wasn't expecting it. It was barely a kiss, more like a peck, but Roman could feel heat rushing into his cheeks. “Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.” He said, loud enough for the audience to hear him.

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took?” Janus cocked his head to the side, looking far more innocent and coy than Roman had ever seen him behave before.

“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” This time, Janus stood on tiptoes and kissed him. A proper kiss that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and Roman wanted to stay like that forever and ever. The scent of Janus' cologne made him giddy and he took Janus' hands, pulling him closer. On one hand, they were playing parts in a play, and on the other hand, everything felt oh so real, from the hoodie toggles that tickled his button up shirt to Janus' soft fingers gripping his hands tightly.

When they finally pulled away, Roman gazed at Janus' shining brown eyes in what must have been a lovestruck expression. He found his Julien.

---

"You BITCH!" Virgil slapped the study table violently.

"What did I do?"

"1 year. 1 fucking year of you making fun of me falling for a white guy and here you are, falling for the exact same white guy." Virgil looked vaguely irritated. "Even my mom was like," He put his hand at his ear like a phone and did an exaggerated Chinese accent. "Aiyah ah boy, I know you like boys, but an angmoh gao is too too much already. But don't worry lah, 4 months is not long, you still can leave him.” Do you even know what that means, you ass?”

He suddenly burst out in laughter. "This is great, it's my turn to poke fun." He rubbed his hands together excitedly. "What was the kiss like? Was it...spicy?"

"Weren't you there?"

"Yeah, but I want a personal recount. Actually, no. Give me the P.E.E.L. format. Point, evidence, example and link on Janus' kissing skills. Go." 

"Oh, er. Janus was a… good kisser?" Roman didn't kiss much. "Um, point. His hair is all fluffy and I feel it brushing against my forehead, which gives me butterflies and this warm tingly sensation that ran through my body and gave me goosebumps. And he makes this noise whenever we kiss that is so cute, he honestly sounds genuinely surprised whenever it happens, even though we're following a script. And his cologne smells so good, oh my god I need to get the brand name, it's like kinda ashy, but not quite and it was a bit light, like a nice stroll in a forest. Holy shit it smelled nice. And-"

Virgil raised an eyebrow and paused Roman's tangent. "He wore cologne? He never wears cologne."

"Oh." Roman's eyes widened. 

"Maybe…" Virgil wiggled his eyebrows. "He wore it for the kiss scene." 

The heat that decided to congregate on Roman's cheeks was undeniable. "Why - why would he do that?" 

"He likes you, ya dumbass. And he wanted to impress you, so he decided that hoodie plus beanie plus cologne was a good combo."

Roman stared at his feet. "It was."

Virgil stood up and patted Roman on the head comfortingly. "There, there, it's alright. White guys aren't all that bad."

"Oh fuck off."

Virgil bowed and shot Roman the finger. Truly a man of eloquence and class. Roman opened a picture on his phone from his date with Janus. Janus was smiling, and Roman could feel himself smiling too as he looked at the picture of Janus. Of his Julien.

[izzyfandoms]

Dukemile - Midnight

(This is one of 36 Halloween-themed ficlets I'm posting today! One for every sides/Remy/Emile/Thomas ship plus creativitwins!)

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

Masterpost

"Do you know what happens at Midnight?" Remus whispered to his boyfriend, leaning across their shared desk to grin at him.

Emile blinked. He spared a nervous glance at their teacher, who kept on talking, unaware of their conversation, before turning back to Remus. He shook his head.

"No, what happens?" He ask curiously.

Remus grinned, showing both rows of teeth.

"Murder!" He said, his eyes bright and excited, speaking just barely above a whisper.

Emile gasped. "Murder?"

"Murder," Remus nodded solemnly. "Or, I dunno, it did happen. Some guy killed his wife and then himself in the woods outside town at Midnight, like, a hundred Halloweens ago. And, every year, at midnight, their ghosts appear at the same spot, reliving their deaths."

Emile's eyes were wide behind his glasses, like giant circular dinner plates, and he glanced around nervously again, before turning back to Remus.

"How do you know?" He asked, only just remembering to whisper.

Remus grinned again, leaning in close.

"My big brother told me! Isn't he the coolest?" Remus continued excitedly.

Emile nodded in agreement. "You're lucky to have a brother like him. He knows so many things."

"Yeah!" Remus agreed.

Then, after a moment, his grin took a mischievous glint, something that always preceded things that were either very exciting, or very scary. Emile could never tell which until Remus spoke, though it was often some strange mix of the two.

"Oh dear," Emile said, almost sighing, and sparing another quick, cautious glance at their teacher, who still hadn't seemed to notice them.

(Of course, most of the other students were talking amongst themselves, too, so that certainly helped.)

"Babe," Remus said, leaning in close and continuing to grin at Emile.

"What is it?"

"Do you wanna come to the woods with me tonight?" Remus asked.

Emile gulped, adjusting his tie.

"Um... no?"

Remus pouted. "Aww, babe. Please?"

He did his best impression of adorable puppy-dog eyes, which didn't usually work on his face. Unfortunately, Emile was the one person in the whole wide world that Remus's puppy-dog eyes worked on.

"Um... I don't know," Emile trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "I'm a little, uh... scared of ghosts?"

Remus reached forward, covering Emile's hand with his own, slightly smaller one. His expression turned deadly serious, as he looked into his boyfriend's eyes.

"I would kill a ghost to protect you."

Emile felt his face heat at the words that he probably shouldn't have found incredibly sweet and romantic.

He laughed nervously, hoping that his blush wasn't obvious: he certainly didn't want Remus to tease him in front of a whole classroom of other people.

"Um... I don't think you can really kill a ghost. Aren't they, you know, already dead?"

"I will double kill them, then. Easy."

"Is it really easy?"

"Yup. Done it before."

Emile's eyes widened. "You have?!" He exclaimed.

The teacher turned to glare and shush him, and his face turned hot as he apologised meekly and shrank back in his seat. Remus was unoffended, ignoring the teacher and instead just nodding at Emile.

"Uh-huh!" He waved it off. "Come on, I'll watch the Steven Universe movie with you again if you come ghost hunting with me."

Emile straightened up. "Deal," he answered immediately.

Remus grinned, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly.

"Yes!"

"Quiet, Mr Duke," the teacher turned and hissed. "Or I'm separating the two of you, permanently."

Remus rolled his eyes, sparing the teacher only a quick glance before turning back to Emile with an excited grin.

"It's a date!"

And, well, even Emile's fear of ghosts couldn't stop the delight that bubbled up at the expression on Remus's face.

[soft-stormcloud]

Panic Cord [Part 1/3]

Synopsis: When Virgil and his fiancé, Logan, take in Virgil’s ex boyfriend Roman and his boyfriend, Patton, Virgil’s forced to come face to face with his guilt. 

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Prinxiety, Analogical, LAMP, background logicality

Word count: 2684 out of roughly 8791

Trigger warnings: Implied abusive parents, very heavy guilt, financial problems, potentially unsympathetic Virgil? It’s complicated, everyone makes mistakes.

A/N: this whole fic was inspired by the song Panic Cord by Gabrielle Aplin, 10/10 song

    “Are you serious?”

    “Yes.” 

    Logan gave his stubborn fiance a defiant look. “You’re serious?” He asked again, just to be sure. 

    Virgil nodded insistently. “Yes! Look, we play DND every week, tell me it wouldn’t be badass playing on this.” 

    He gestured towards the coffee table he wanted, an overdramatic, gothic table that would take up half of their living room. 

    Logan quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, but we eat dinner every day. Lunch, too. Imagine trying to balance a cup on one of those ridges. We might as well not even have a table.”

    Virgil held his hands up. “I’d be glad to eat on the floor.”

    He couldn’t help but laugh. “Then why… Are we even here?” 

    Virgil cracked up, too, but shook his head. “I don’t want that boring ass table.” 

    Logan pouted. He liked the table. It was simple, but not ugly, with dark reddish brown panels of wood and black iron supports. It was big enough for them to eat, and play DND, too, albeit a bit cramped. He especially liked that it looked easy to clean, and it was the perfect height for their couch. 

    Virgil hesitated, and then sighed as the bell above the shop’s door dinged. “Okay. Fine. We’ll get that table. But! I get to pick the next three games we play.” 

    Logan smiled. That meant three sessions of DND, with Logan dm’ing. “If that’ll make you happy.”

    As giggling sounded from near the door, Virgil looked up and smiled sheepishly at him. Then his eyes slid over his fiance’s shoulder, towards the couple coming towards them- One excitedly pulling his boyfriend, the other nervously and subtly trying to lead him away. 

Virgil ducked down and behind Logan, whispering, “Shit, shit, shit!” 

Logan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“That’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Which one?”

“The tall one.”

The couple stopped to admire the table Logan picked out. The tall one stared fiercely at it, eyes not moving, stiff. The oblivious one admired the wood. 

Logan didn’t take his gaze off the tall one as he said, “I think they know you’re here.”

The round, freckled one looked at them with a polite smile. “Hm?”

The tall one peeked around Logan a bit and gave an awkward wave. “Hey, uh-” He almost said something else, and then just said, “Hey.” 

Virgil stared at him, anxiety having frozen him solid. They spent thirty seconds in the most uncomfortable silence Logan thought he’d ever witnessed, Virgil’s ex’s boyfriend completely oblivious, until Logan said, “So, you two used to date?”

That got his attention. 

“Um, yeah… I’m Roman,” the tall one said, ignoring his boyfriend’s concerned look. His hair was grown out in a messy enough way that it was clearly unintentional, faded red with inches of brown roots. His nails were painted an assortment of pastel colours. “This is my boyfriend, Patton.” Patton was dressed all in pastels, with golden circular glasses frames and platform boots. He looked familiar, but Virgil couldn’t place him. His hair was also a mess, but it was curly and looked more on purpose. 

“I’m Virgil’s fiance.” Logan stuck his hand out, and Roman’s eyes went wide. 

“Fiance?” He didn’t shake Logan’s hand. Patton squeezed Roman’s arm. 

“Yes.” A small smile crawled onto Logan’s face as his eyes slid over to Virgil. Virgil blushed and looked away. “Fiance.”

“So that’s the name you picked? ‘Virgil?’” Roman forced a chuckle and glanced to Logan. “He was still trying a few out when we were together.” 

Desperate to get the attention off of him, Virgil asked, “So are you two moving in together?” 

Patton smiled brightly. “We’re trying to! But, you know, money’s tight. We figured we’d stop by here since we were close and look at some options. It’s more expensive than we thought it’d be, though.” 

Logan perked up. “You know, when Vee and I started looking at options, we found this little store downtown…” 

Logan and Patton got lost in conversation as Logan told him about the furniture store he and Virgil had found, and all the things they found for their new apartment. Virgil’s eyes widened as he realized he and Roman were, basically, left alone. 

After thirty seconds of just staring at Logan and Patton’s conversation, he realized there wasn’t really a subtle way to get out of this situation. He turned to Roman and, after a bit to think of what to say, stuttered out, “You look like you’re doing… Good?” 

A little bit of authenticity bled into Roman’s smile. “Patton’s really great. Do you, um, do you remember him?”  

“Um, I think, yeah?” Virgil looked away and scratched the back of his neck a little aggressively. Shit, Patton? Patton… He couldn’t place the name. “Probably, I don’t know.”

“I met him at that Wicked showing,” Roman reminded him. “It was, like, a week before. You only met him once.” Roman’s eyes widened. “Oh- But we didn’t do anything! We only got together a year ago. I promise, we didn’t-”

Roman tended to go on and on until someone stopped him. 

“After what happened, do you really think I could be mad at you for forgetting to tell me something?” Virgil raised his eyebrows. Every day he felt guilty for what he did. He would let Roman get away with breaking a thousand rules to their polygamy set up, let alone one. 

“I guess not,” he said quietly. He was blushing. He let out a little laugh and shrugged. “I just… Don’t like you being mad at me.” 

Virgil could tell where this headed. He rushed to speak at the same as Roman,

“It wasn’t your fault-”

“If I did anything-” 

Virgil pursed his lips and Roman chuckled. “I mean…” Roman turned away slightly, peeking at him. “There had to be a reason, right? Never mind, don’t answer that.” He fully looked away, pretending to examine one of the tables. “I shouldn’t pry.” 

“Vee?”

They both glanced back. Logan and Patton were standing close enough for their clothes to brush together, and they each had a little dopey smile on their faces. Patton broke off to join Roman, wrapping his arms around one of Roman’s. Roman smiled down at him. 

“Are you ready to go, love?” Logan asked. Little happy butterflies fluttered around Virgil’s stomach. “I have to get ready for work.” 

“Yeah, go ahead.” Virgil pointed back at the table they chose. “I'll get this to the register.” 

Logan turned for a moment, before looking back and asking, cautiously, “You’re not trying to trick me, are you?”

He grinned. “Which table did we pick again?”

Logan pointed at him. “I’m trusting you.” 

He went outside to go warm up the car, and Virgil reached for the box. 

“Virgil, um…” Roman smiled nervously as Virgil turned back to him. “Before you leave, could I just- Could I hug you?” 

Virgil’s heart stuttered. Dread twisted his stomach into a knot, but how could he say no? After what he did, if the guy wanted a hug, he could have a hug. He nodded. “Yeah, sure.” 

Roman almost stepped forward, but then his gaze settled on Virgil’s face, and he really looked, and he stopped. “I know you too well,” he said with a sad smile. “But, um, here… Pat, can I borrow a marker?”

“Mhm!” Patton swung his pastel purple backpack around to his front and dug inside for a moment before producing a pink marker. 

Virgil held out his arm instinctively and Roman scribbled down a phone number. “We should catch up some time, if you want.” 

Virgil knew what he was doing. It was an invitation, and nothing more. It was Roman saying, I miss you, and I feel like we ran into each other today for a reason, but I would never pressure you into anything. So, if you want to, you can reach out. 

Virgil was conflicted. 

He just nodded and forced a smile, and then got the box with Logan’s pick to the register. 

Later, while they were putting the table together, Logan said, “You know, Patton mentioned they’re still looking for a place to live.” 

Virgil looked at him in confusion. “Yeah?” 

He stared at the screw he was trying to fit in the wood. “They seemed like they were in a hurry.”

“I can imagine,” Virgil mumbled. 

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Personal stuff. Roman’s personal stuff.”

“Oh.” Logan shrugged it off. “Okay, well. I was just thinking, if it gets too bad, we could always rent out my office.” 

Virgil’s stomach coiled. “What?” He asked in panic. “To them?”

“Yes?” He looked up in confusion. “Would that not be okay?”

Virgil dropped his screwdriver. “No! No, that’s- No.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to do that. What kind of idea is that? He’s my ex.” 

“Yeah, I know, I heard that, Vee.” He sighed and set down his screwdriver, as well, giving Virgil his full attention. “But they need a place to live, and I figured things couldn’t have ended that badly. You guys got along fine today.”

“No- It wasn’t a fight.” Virgil pursed his lips and tried to figure out the best way to explain what happened, and quickly gave up. “It’s just- It’s not a good idea.”

Logan crawled around his side of the table to sit next to his fiance, taking his hands. “You’re talking like it’s already decided,” he said gently. “I was just asking your opinion. If you don’t want it to happen, it won’t, okay?” 

Virgil nodded slowly, squeezing his hands. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I just- I panicked.” 

He smiled. “I know. It’s okay.” Logan kissed him softly, and Virgil leaned into it. “I gotta get going, though, or else I’ll be late.” He stood up and let Virgil’s hands drop from his. “Are you okay with finishing this yourself?”

Virgil picked up his screwdriver again and nodded. “Yeah. I’m off tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Logan leaned down to give him one last kiss, before leaving, grabbing his keys on the way out. 

xxx 

A few days later, Virgil burst into their apartment after work. Logan jumped as Virgil dropped his bag on the floor and dropped himself into Logan’s lap. 

“Bad day?” Logan asked, hiding a smile as he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair. 

“Whatever,” Virgil grumbled. 

“What happened?” 

“Just a bunch of stupid shit. I didn’t even really want to be there anyway. Apparently I made some mistake yesterday, and my supervisor, like, attacked me for it.” 

Logan was immediately sceptical. “He did?” 

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t even remember, it happened as soon as I got inside.” Virgil sat up, feet planted on either side of Logan’s lap. “What, do you not believe me?”

“No, it’s not that.” Logan rested his hand on the side of Virgil’s face. “I just know how you can be.”

Virgil scowled and stuck out his tongue at him. Logan laughed and kissed him. 

“I don’t know, I was trying to make coffee and he stormed up and started snapping at me.”

“Did you snap back?”

“Of course I did. Can you blame me?” 

He shrugged. “Not really, I guess.” He tucked a loose strand of Virgil’s purple hair behind his ear. “But… I don’t know, he’s your supervisor. Is that smart?” 

Virgil grimaced as chills crawled up his back. He had been trying not to think about that. “Just because he’s my supervisor doesn’t mean he can be a dick,” Virgil grumbled. 

“No, I agree, but…” 

Virgil sighed. “Dear God, what?” 

“It sounds like he was just doing his job,” Logan said with a sigh. 

He scowled. “And being a dick about it,” he said pointedly. 

“Well, maybe, I don’t know, I wasn’t there. But besides that point.” 

Virgil didn’t answer. 

“Just think about it,” Logan said gently and pulled him closer.

Virgil easily leaned against him. There was nothing in this world that calmed him down faster than his fiance. It was how he realized he was in love with Logan, in love with him the kind of way that he knew, without him, he would just ache. The first time Logan came into the room and Virgil felt undeniable, bone-deep relaxation, an overpowering feeling of safety- He knew. 

Logan was always trying to encourage him to be better; not because he didn’t think Virgil was enough, but because he saw how Virgil was constantly hurting himself, and he didn’t want to watch it. 

Virgil rolled his eyes and rested his head on Logan’s shoulder, mumbling mockingly, “Should I… Apologize?” He hated apologizing. He only really did it to Logan, and that still sucked. 

“It depends.” Logan kissed the top of his head. “How big of a dick was he being?” 

“... Not really.” 

“Then probably.” 

Virgil sighed heavily. “This is stupid.” 

Virgil knew what he was thinking: You need to stop getting so defensive. But he didn’t say it. Maybe because he knew that Virgil already knew. Maybe he felt like he got his point across fine enough without it. Either way, Virgil was grateful. 

xxx 

Virgil’s phone woke him up at 10am, and it felt like the middle of the night. 

A number unknown to his phone but memorized by Virgil showed across the scene, and his heart at once sunk to his stomach and filled with butterflies. He was frozen with indecision. A mix of relief and regret swirled inside his stomach as the phone stopped buzzing, a missed call showing up on screen… And then it all shattered as it began again. 

“Turn that shit off,” Logan groaned, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s waist. 

Virgil kissed his hand and nudged him away so he could get out of bed. He answered the phone as he tiptoed out of the bedroom. 

In their empty apartment, the world was quiet. Cars buzzed by outside, but it was muffled from so high up. The sun streamed in from the windows they forgot to draw the curtains on before going to bed, shining patterns on the carpet from the stained glass pieces Virgil had hung up. 

He tried to focus on that while he answered the phone. His blooming life with Logan, and how happy it made him. 

“Roman?” 

“Hey!” He didn’t sound happy. He sounded nervous. “So, uh… You busy right now?”

“What’s going on?” Virgil’s eyes settled on the vase of fake roses on their coffee table. They both adored plants, but neither of them had the time or patience to really take care of any. Virgil traced the familiar petals and the child safe thorns on the stem. 

“Well, you know how Patton and I were trying to find a place to live?”

“Mhm.” 

Virgil expected him to ask him and Logan to help them move in, that they found a place but they happened to bite off more than they could chew and Virgil was the only person he felt comfortable asking for such a favour. However likely that was. 

“Well, we couldn’t. And, uh…”

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. Dread tangled his stomach into knots. “What’s wrong, why can’t you keep looking?”

“Well, we can! It just…” 

“Give me the phone,” a soft voice said from Roman’s side of the phone, and after a moment of shuffling, the voice came out clearer. “Virgil? It’s Patton. We were just wondering if you know anybody who has a spare room for rent. Like… Today, maybe.” 

“Is everything okay?” They were freaking him out. 

“I ran out of rent money a few months ago, and I was hoping to get paid today, but… Anyway, I guess I overstayed my welcome. My landlord kicked me out. And Roman won’t let me stay with him.” 

That much was obvious- Virgil wouldn’t let a frog stay with Roman’s parents. 

“So?” Patton tried much too hard to sound cheerful. “Do you maybe know anybody?” 

Virgil looked back to their bedroom, where Logan was standing in the doorway, watching him in concern. “Yeah,” Virgil said. “I have a place.”

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[sidespromptblog]

We Don’t Need You: Part 2

One, Three

Summary: “This isn’t some kind of logic problem that we can think away Logan!” Virgil snapped at him, “For once just let us deal with this, you don’t need to butt in when you think that we’re too stupid to handle something. We’re FINE,” Virgil growled, his voice growing more and more distorted with each syllable. “We don’t need you right now.”

Word Count: 2346

Cold.

That was the first thing that keyed Logan’s waking mind to the fact that what he had been trying to do, hadn’t succeeded in the way that he quite would have liked for it too.

It was cold, colder than anything Logan had ever felt before. The kind of cold that would turn his lips blue and make his fingertips fall off from the sharp bitter bite of frostbite, the kind of cold that could slowly make them numb before killing someone in the slow way that it did. His own breathing felt warm across his face, and…That was the only thing he could feel in that moment.

Everything else was entirely numb.

“What’s he doing here?! He’s the last person I would have expected to see here!” A sharp but equally curious voice asked, as he felt something nudging at his side. He was being poked, not roughly, but not soft enough to allow him to sink back into the unconscious state he had once been in.

Within seconds the offending appendage was swatted away from Logan’s side, as warm… blisteringly warm fingers brushed his wayward hair out of his face. It was the only warm thing in this otherwise freezing environment. “Oh hush now, he’s waking up. Be nice.” The warm hand that had been touching his cheek gingerly pulled away, and for a second Logan felt a strike of embarrassment running through him at the whine that almost bubbled up past his lips. He didn’t want that warmth to go away, it was the one and only thing that he could feel right now, and honestly… that meant a lot to him.  

“I could kick him… that’d make him wake up faster.”  

The three of the voices all slurred together with the sound of a scuffle and a sharp mild-tempered hiss that Logan had long since grown used to hearing from Virgil. Cracking his eyes open with a lot more strength than he would have figured that it took, he saw them… or rather he saw through them. They looked exactly like him, not in the appearance department, but in the way that not only could he see through his own hands as well, but the fact that they were rather ghostly as well. One of them was holding the more ragged member of their little group in a headlock, preventing him from what Logan could assume, from kicking him. He was a little thankful for that, although he wasn’t too certain if it would even hurt in this case.

Nevertheless, a long beat of silence passed between them all as Logan blankly looked back at all of them, and they stared awkwardly right back at him.

“Hi!” One of the three, dressed in a pair of lime green and black stockings, a butterfly sweater, and a headband eagerly bounced forward from the other two’s side. “You were asleep for a really long time, so I’m really glad that you’re not dead Logic!” He eagerly beamed with a smile that could only be described as pure unfiltered sunlight. “I’m Optimism, but you can just call me Winifred! Everyone else did before I came here.” A pang of something hit Logan square in the chest as Optimism’s smile dulled to a sad quirk of his lips, he.. he couldn’t help but to feel responsible in some way, as Logic he would have been responsible for Optimism slowly being replaced by cold and calculated pessimism. “I’m so sorry that this has happened to you Logic.”

And just like that, Logan felt himself snapping out of his negative feelings, as Optimism tugged him up to his feet.

The grip on his hand burned… but also warmed him at the same time. Much like a warm cup of tea that had just been poured right off of the stove, it was comforting and yet too much all at the same time.

The other side jerked himself free of the headlock he had been trapped in, before openly scoffing at Optimism. “He doesn’t know what you’re talking about Oppie, you’re not exactly talking clearly for him.” With an odd twist of his lips, he straightened the torn… no the absolutely shredded clothing that he wore before stalking over to Logan and crossing his arms. “I’m Instinct, I didn’t exist long enough to get a name before I was replaced by Anxiety. But Winifred calls me Yayhne, or just Yarnie depending on whether you want to keep your kneecaps or not.” Instincts lips twitched into a rather familiar expression that he had seen on Virgil’s face multiple times, a sneer as his drummed his sharp almost claw-like fingernails against the side of his arm. “That idiot over there,” Instinct jerked his head over to the only side who hadn’t come to greet Logan, in fact, his entire body was facing away from the logical side… as if he wanted to get as far away as physically possible. “Is Reason, you replaced him.”

A feeling of something akin to a softball smacking him right in the stomach connected with Logan in that very second.

Of course… the bow tie, the iron pressed shirt that looked a little wrinkly, the perfectly circular glasses… it all looked so familiar. It left a sour taste along Logan’s tongue, the kind of taste that one normally got when almost throwing up, but somehow managing to swallow it back down. What was he supposed to say? He hadn’t even known that these sides existed up until now, he couldn’t remember them from when they had been there among them before, he couldn’t… couldn’t…

For the third time since waking up, he felt another softball of pain lodging itself right in his stomach.

“The..the...” His mouth felt as dry as sandpaper and his throat just as rough, “The others are going to forget about me… aren’t they?” He finally asked, the horror that had been mounting and mounting in small doses finally settling like the weight of the world on top of his shoulders. “They’ll never know that I existed… won’t they?”

Within an instant Optimism’s expression crumpled as soon as Logan’s eyes filled with tears and his lungs burned with the need for oxygen.

“Oh honey,” The other side immediately darted forward, ordinarily Logan would have objected to any kind of hug. Whether it came to Patton, Roman, or just anyone else he just… didn’t do hugs. But right now… he collapsed into Optimism’s hug, burying his face into the semi-see through sweatered shoulder as his entire body started quaking with emotions and tears that didn’t really feel like they belonged to him. “It takes a while for the forgetting to happen, it’s been many years since we’ve existed as a person to the others. So, of course, you don’t remember us, and…” Those warm hands cupped Logan’s cheeks, prying his head up from the other side’s shoulder. “You’re only half faded dear, we stayed behind to help anyone who might find there place here. You’re not fully absorbed yet.”

“Can I be?”

If it was possible, Optimism’s expression crumbled even more with those few words.

“Why do you want to?” For the first time, Reason spoke his voice rough and most certainly to the point. “Why have you faded?” He sharply asked, stepping forward as his fists clenched and unclenched. It certainly wasn’t easy seeing the person who had replaced him here, but he had made a promise when he had stayed behind with Optimism and Instinct, and that was to help whoever came here and whoever needed it. Logan needed it, that much was obvious enough to him.

Logan’s eyes darted back towards the ground, or as much of the ground that this void of this place had given where he happened to be standing. And for a moment, he remained nothing more than silent, his fingertips fiddling with the end of his faded tie. Did he really want to tell them? Being replaced by another side was one thing, but being told by someone who was your closest friend that they didn’t need you… well, that was an entirely different thing. He might as well have failed them all, he might as well just go right now.

“He said that they didn’t need me,” The truth came out in a big rush, but even then he wasn’t done then. “And when I looked to the others for help, or just for them to back me up… they didn’t. They agreed with Virgil, they agreed that they didn’t need Logic anymore. So I… left. Once it all started I didn’t know how to stop it, I.. I didn’t want to stop it. I didn’t...” See a point.

Really what was the point if the others didn’t want him around? Ducking out would just be a half-hearted cry for attention at this point, and he knew that they’d go back to treating them just as they always did once he promised not to do it again. Thomas was already wasting so much mental space on keeping his projection around, so… why not just go back to being an instinct? Why not just go back to being what he had been in the beginning?

An action, nothing more.

An uncomfortable looked spasmed on Instinct’s face as his sharp nails flexed into the torn fabric of his clothing, “He… That punk told you what?!” His voice distorted the last word, as his breathing grew rougher and rougher. He was shaking, to an alarming degree. “I told you!” He snapped as soon as Reason attempted to console him by putting a hand on his shoulder. “I told you he was too rough to take my place! That he wouldn’t know how to stop! Look at what he’s done now! He’s driven out someone who was supposed to be his friend… his family… his loves!” A sound that was somewhere in between a sob and a broken snarl fell from Instinct’s lips as his fingernails tore into his clothes ripping and shredding them more than they already were. “I..’m… I’m s..sorry…” The other side hugged himself tight as black inky tears stained his face and dripped onto his clothes. “I’m sorry he hurt you, he wasn’t supposed to. He’s supposed to be a protector, someone to help make things better, someone to.. to... He.. He’s not meant to hurt. I’m..s..so sorry.”

Before Logan even knew what he was doing, he had moved out of Optimism’s warm embrace and right towards Instinct. He had no idea what he was doing, or even if he wanted to go through with his plans of just going back to the way that things were in the beginning. But what he did know, was that in times of high stress, Patton’s method of giving a good hug seemed to even out the odds when things weren’t exactly in his favor.

So that’s what he did.

He hugged Instinct as tightly as the other side would allow him to, and he didn’t let him go. He didn’t even loosen his hold in the slightest when the other’s sharp fingernails rested against his back, and he didn’t let him go when he felt those black tears staining his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Instinct whispered again, “I never wanted my replacement to hurt anyone, that’s why I.. that’s why I left in the first place…”

Logan’s head rested atop Instinct’s matted, messy, and greasy hair as he continued to hold the other close. “That’s not your fault, Virgil’s actions are his own. It’s high time that he figured out that his actions do indeed have consequences, what he says does hurt people as much as he would like to brush it off. His words hurt me, just as his words have undoubtedly hurt others before me too. He can no longer run from that.” Logan found a kind of solace in running his fingers through Instinct’s hair, calming the both of them down as he gingerly swayed them both back and forth.

“Then don’t go,” Came the mumbling reply as Optimism slung his arms around the both of them, “If you go someone else will just take your place and… at least give him the chance to apologize. If he says that he honestly doesn’t need you, and the others don’t take your side, we’ll be here to hold you until you’re fully apart of Thomas again.” For just a split second, Instinct’s grip tightened on him, as if letting him go back, or even making him go back to the place he had just fled from was a pain that was too unimaginable for the other side. Even Reason himself looked downright pained at the entire prospect being offered to Logan.

But…

“This sounds like a reasonable request,” Logan practically sighed the words out in one heavy breath, he didn’t want to go back, honestly he really didn’t. He didn’t want to feel the pain of having his heart broken all over again, he didn’t want to have to deal with biting words, or from the looks of no one standing up for him when he needed it. He didn’t want to deal with any of it, but… that was what life was he supposed. Dealing with things you might not want to. “I apologize if I have to come back sooner than anyone of you would like.”

Already he could feel it, as he went limp around all of them, his knees quaking before eventually crumbling like a stack of cards under him. Just to gingerly be caught in Optimism’s warm arms, steadily guiding him towards the ground, while securely holding him against the other side’s chest. Optimism’s chest vibrated with the soft hum of a lullaby that Logan couldn’t remember the words to, all while his eyelids got heavier and heavier. Instinct held his hand as Reason gingerly brushed his hair out of his face, they were all there, their promise remaining strong in his mind even as he eventually drifted off.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

What We Left In The Past

Summary: Sometimes, a sad memory is just a good memory given time.

Characters: Virgil, Virgil’s spider sisters, Durant (mentioned)

Notes: I read this ask and thought of how much I need to read a fic of it before I realized.. I can write it

It’s also on AO3 because why not

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil had just finished discussing some trivial matter with his gentries.

Well, trivial for him at least. 

A hundred years ago none of them would have probably had this meeting in the first place.

If only the present was as simple. 

He left as soon as he could, tired of discussions that reminded him of the wreckage his brother caused during his time on the so called throne. 

Still, he didn’t travel through the shadows. opting instead to take the long way through the woods.

It was a lovely autumn day, breezy yet sunny.

The sunshine shone on the orange and red leaves, making the forest glow in an array of colors that reminded him of one of his favorite people. 

It wasn’t as if he had somewhere to be now as well. 

Patton was still in his job driving the ice cream truck, Logan was in college and Roman wouldn’t be back from his for a quite a few hours still.

There was no danger to fight, no charm called for his attention. 

Just a lovely day in a lovely forest with his lovely chattering sisters. 

He mostly tuned them out, only occasionally joining the conversation with a hum or a laugh, immersed in the beauty of the forest. 

That is, at least, until he came upon a small pond.

“Oh" 

He could have missed it, easily. 

The pond looked like any other pond; vaguely circular and filled with chilling water, the green plants floating in its edges.

It could have been any pond. 

Except that it couldn’t. It really couldn’t. 

His sisters quieted, curious and sharing in his melancholy, though they didn’t quite know why. 

Virgil crunched down, touching the big rock by the side of the pond. 

It was still here, still intact and clear. 

So many years had passed, yet the engraved drawing of a spider and a snake floating on the waves never smoothed out of the stone. 

One of his sisters skittered across his arm until she stepped onto the finger barley brushing the stone. 

"It’s-” he began to answer the unasked question in her eyes.

“Addar and I, we engraved it after he learned to swim”. 

Oh the snake 

That flighty flighty snake

The bad brother. He was not nice 

Not nice at all 

Bad bad-

an explosion of voices answered him. 

They knew of the name “Adder”, of course. Impossibly long ago, there was a time when he still sometimes let it slip out. 

It didn’t take long for him to stop entirely. 

He didn’t think ‘Adder’ ever became part of his name anyway. 

His sisters stopped taking as he opened his mouth to speak again. It was not often that Virgil spoke of the time before they came out of the dark and air. 

“He wasn’t always like that”. 

Sometimes, Virgil wished his brother had always been a monster, always a horrible guy.

In bad days, Virgil wondered if he had been tricked as well by his brother. 

Fallen for his easy charm, manipulated from the moment they met.

In worse days, Virgil thinks back to the early days, searching for any detail of their childhood, any lesson he might have given Adder to turn him into the monster that was the Serpent King.

He hated his brother for what he’s done.

Hated him for betraying his trust, for taking a hundred years and everyone during it away from him, for leaving only broken glass and blood scattered across the forest in the suspicion and terror of seelie.

Virgil despises the Serpent King.

But he loved Adder. 

“At the beginning, years before you were even here,” he continued, “Adder- he-” Virgil shook his head, as if the right words would fall from his memory if he only shook hard enough. 

“I taught him to swim. We laughed together, played together. I was so alone before mother had made him, but with him..” Virgil took a deep breath and let it blow out slowly as he sat crossed legged in front of the stone. 

“It started small, the warning signs, but I didn’t want to believe it was serious, I couldn’t. He poke fun at me as I did him, I was his guide through the forest when he first appeared, I pulled him out of the tree when he couldn’t even climb out of it himself. 

He was my brother and was as dear to me then as you are now.”

Oh brother, brother

Too long, too, too long ago

No matter, no matter

It’s better, better now

“Yeah,” he gave them a weak smile, “I’ll take you over him any day. You’re wonderful.”

Sweet brother

Such kind words

You flatter and flatter

Such a nice brother

Yes, yes we prefer you too

Love, love, love, we love you brother

“You still can’t come with me to Patton later” Virgil stood up and dusted his clothes clean.

“We don’t need to spook him or any of the other workers again”. 

Silly brother

We won’t spook him

We know better now

We’ll be nice

Worry, worry worry.. 

We want to see

The smokey chariot fascinates us

So fast, so fast they go, how are they so fast?

He let the chatter wash over him again, continuing to walk along the shimmering forest. 

Leaving the pond behind. 

---

V: oh i LOVE this so much - i already commented on AO3 but i cried all over again seeing it here!!!!!

[amintyworld]

Chapter Two: No Way - Sanders Sides Six AU

A/N: Guess who’s back! I worked very hard on this for a few months to bring ya’ll, and I hope you enjoy it. Special thanks, as always, to my test reader and friend @dee-ree-vee who’s helping me so much with this series. It totaled to 9 pages on a google doc, so hopefully, this helps if you need something to read these days. - Minty

First - Last - Next

TW: Cursing, manipulation, toxic relationship, mention of possible murder, near-death, bullying. (Tell me if I missed any!)

Summary: A look into Daniel (Deceit)’s past.

Remy yawned as he stretched, walking over to his bed. It was late, another boring dinner to get through - polite conversations about politics, the weather, and the governor’s new niece. Dull, and seemed always as a test to prove himself to the people of the court, as if being the ‘trouble’ child wasn’t enough.

He had kept his composure until the advisor had so graciously asked - “Now Remy, as we all know your… qualifications, it’s only fair to ask if you’ve considered a… alternate, if you were to not meet the needs of the people.”

King Thomas had to grab Remy’s arm from under the table to keep him from doing something he might regret. Remy struggled to keep his voice steady. “And why, may I ask, would we ever need an alternate?”

“Well, it just seems that your training has been to a lackluster performance at most. Truly, my prince, you cannot expect yourself to be ready for such a big position?” The advisor had smiled in mockery, for it was all too clear the real intentions behind his eyes - to make him cause a scene, and boy, did he know how to get under his skin! “Maybe it would be better if we could consider a position for you to use… your…” The advisor sized up Remy in distaste. “… ‘special’… talents…”

He barely got through the dinner without strangling the advisor’s smug face.

High above, a green spirit had been pacing, a light blue and bright yellow watching him. “Why, if I outta- he has no right saying anything like that to my great-grandson!”

“Slow your temper, Remus. You’re going to end up causing a scene and breaking some dishes again.” The bright yellow spirit had said - half his face was covered in scars, his eye cloudy. His hand reached up to rub his temple, and the light blue spirit at his side - a flowing blue gown with circular glasses and his long curls held up in a bun - had given him a reassuring glance, which made his yellow counterpart smile. “I swear if it weren’t for you and Roman messing with the mortals-”

“When I get a body, I swear I’m gonna give him the old one-two and then-!” Remus’s smile crooked too wide, his eyes wild. “THEN I’ll show him 'special talents’!” Remus said, laughing a bit madly, before resuming his pace.

Roman fazed through the wall in a bit of a hurry. “How’s Remy? Did he read it yet?!”

“Barely got through the first few pages, I’m afraid.” The light blue spirit, Patton had said warmly, looking toward the spirit in question. A growl could be heard from behind them. “Remus is in a bit of a haze after dinner.” Patton looked to Roman. “How’s Logan? The poor thing seemed so pale today.”

“He’s…he’s fine. The healer’s doing everything she can, but…with his old age…” Roman trailed off, not knowing the words, or rather, not wanting to say what was next. Patton rubbed his arm comfortingly, giving Roman a warm smile. 

“Hey…” Patton’s voice was warm and soft. “He’s Logan - you know more than anyone he’s not going down without a fight, just like his father.” Patton smiled. “Remember how stubborn he was growing up?”

Roman smiled. “Yeah… every time I’d beat him in a sword fight, he’d get up and demand a rematch, no matter the scuffs and bruises. Tough kid.”

The yellow spirit sighed, utterly displeased as he held Remus back from going to go give a certain someone more than nightmares. “Remus, stop being so childish! Remy needs our advice, not someone to murder all his problems away!

Remus struggled against the restraint, growling. “Why can’t he have both?!” Patton looked over and sighed, strolling over. Time to sort this out.

“Remus?” Patton said. “You know if there was a death in the castle, especially overnight, people would wonder what caused it, and people would leave. They’d leave, and what would we do then? We can’t follow them, and we’d be stuck in a cold, dark, castle until the end of time. Do you want that?”

“N-no…but that bastard has NO RIGHT-”

“He’ll eat his words, I promise. But no murdering, okay?”

Remus grumbled. “Fine. No murdering.” The yellow spirit promptly released him, letting the green one slide down, his arms crossed. “The things I do for this family…” He muttered. 

—————————–

Prince Daniel loved his husband more than anything in the entire world - This was a fact that didn’t need to be verified, nor confirmed. One could tell from the way Daniel’s eyes flickered to his love’s own frequently, admiring the way he looked out of the stiffness of his duties. One would revel in the way they danced, even when they hadn’t for weeks or months it felt like it had been mere hours. 

When you were in their presence, you could tell they were meant for each other, that they balanced each other, and that truly, their hearts beat as one. 

Salkenshire was their home, where they fell in love - where the teenaged prince was lovestruck by the siren voice beneath the balcony. They met in secret in the gardens, Benjamin held Daniel’s hands and made him feel like he was flying - like he was truly alive. On his 18th birthday, Benjamin smiled and held his lover close as he kissed him goodnight.

Daniel knew, in that moment, that kiss would be burned into his mind forever. He told himself that he’d never forget that night as long as he lived. 

But, time can be a cruel mistress, even to those as happy as they.

——————————

Remy scanned the page full of doodled hearts and words of passion. 

Passion coming from one of the empire’s most ruthless leaders? He must be dreaming. 

Everyone knew the story of how the empire came to be - every citizen was brought up on the stories, plays were acted out every independence day, and the parents always scolded their children - “Don’t be so cold-hearted, my child! We don’t want you to become like King Daniel, hm?”

The words on the parchment made no sense at all - yet they were there, in front of Remy’s eyes. He could never have pictured their founder as such a romantic. He flipped the page, where their wedding was described in great detail, and he sighed. “Someone’s a bit obsessed.”

The yellow spirit just crossed his arms and stared off as the others, at the prince’s comment, turned to look at the royal in question. Daniel bit his lip, looking out the window at the rain. It felt familiar, like an old friend. He sighed, the argument replaying in his mind over and over, and it felt as if his heart broke and was pieced together, over and over again.

Daniel didn’t talk about the past much, not with anyone except Patton and Remus. Even then, the conversations were vague. In Daniel’s eyes, it was for a good reason - no matter how much the past stung and hurt, it couldn’t be changed. Daniel’s eyes watered, as the few tears left watery streaks down his cheeks.

No matter how much he wished it would. 

——————————–

Daniel smiled as he rode in the carriage - it was their twenty-fifth anniversary, and he was heading home after talking with the Farwood Duke and Duchess on tea for that Saturday - they were expecting a wonderful baby boy, Jonathan. Their alliance was very strong, and the two kingdoms were very good friends - Daniel liked the still calmness of Lady Valentine. She was the type of person who radiated power and yet never seemed to need to enforce that power. 

As Daniel looked out the window, he saw a crowd of angry people as the guards tried desperately to calm them down and keep things from becoming too heated. 

A rebellion had stirred, restless in Salkenshire. Many did not want an alliance with Farwood - wounds from the war between them still hadn’t completely healed. The war had been gruesome, and many casualties weren’t forgotten. Many of the people still considered them traitors.

The carriage had come to a sudden halt, leaving Daniel pretty confused. Royal carriages don’t stop very easily, or for very many reasons, either. “Franklin? Is everything all right?”

The sudden jolt forward made the royal stumble backwards, tossing him back in his seat harshly. The carriage moved much faster than previous brisk trot, and made Daniel fly all around the carriage as they turned in many different directions. 

Something was most definitely wrong. 

Suddenly, a stranger opened the carriage door, brandishing a dagger. Daniel didn’t need to even think as he punched the attacker in the nose. So this was the trouble.

The attacker, now bleeding heavily from his nostrils, kicked Daniel square in the face as he fell back on the floor of the ride. His crown knocked off, Daniel slowly slid it under the seats for safekeeping as he rolled up his sleeves - time to do some dirty work.  The attacker landed with a thump inside the carriage, standing over the royal with a grin as Daniel, with a determined look, kicked the attacker firmly between the legs, sending him toward the ground. He quickly restrained the attacker pushing his restrained arms toward his shoulder blades on instinct.

“So this was your plan, huh? Hijack a carriage and kill the crowned Prince?!” Daniel yelled. “For what? To stop the alliance?!”

The attacker squirmed against the Prince’s strong grip. “Not…enough…exactly, your Highness… but… ugh…. Basically.”

“Not exactly…?” Daniel asked. “What do you mean?”

He hadn’t noticed the second attacker until he felt the blade up to his throat. Time seemed to slow, and he couldn’t breathe. “Alex, you pissbrain. I told you he was trained.” Daniel gulped as the knife pressed harder to his neck. “I suggest you let him go, your highness, or things are going to get ugly.”

Daniel slowly let go of his grip, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. “What now? You kill me?”

The second attacker gave a deep chuckle.

“Now, your highness? You enjoy the ride.”

As quickly as they came, the two jumped out and rolled quickly down into the dirt. Before Daniel could even piece together what they had meant… his eyes widened.

That’s when Daniel saw the ravine. 

Next? Darkness.

—————————-

The first thing Daniel remembered was the pain. It was numbing at first, almost bearable, like a small cut or scuffed knee. Then, he remembered how his head pounded like a drum, and he could hear his heart beat loudly in his ears. He felt a weight press down in his stomach, and then the sting of his legs. His face felt hot, like it was on fire.

He remembered opening his eyes and seeing white, thinking he was dead. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the carnage - blood and intestines, skin and bone - splattered all around him. He was trapped nearly drowning under a pile of rocks, the only survivor.

The first thing he wanted to do was throw up. Whether it was because of what he had seen, or because of his own injuries, he didn’t know. The second thing he tried was to move, but it seemed the more he did the more pain he felt swirling in his mind. He tried screaming, but he had no air to call for any help, only to sustain himself. 

The first few nights were the hardest. Daniel couldn’t even say it was a few nights - he’d blurred in and out of consciousness while the sun beat down on him, making him crave water and even more so, food. 

After a week he felt tired, and weakened. He could even start to feel his body slowly begin to shut down. He thought everyone thought he was dead - after all, it was a miracle he’d survived the fall in the first place, and very unlikely anyone would think it would even be possible. 

Daniel was sure no one was coming for him.

So, one couldn’t blame him for thinking it a mirage when he thought he saw a group of knights and guards climbing down the ravine. Even as his mind told him it was a dream, Daniel pulled out his bloodied hand and waved it with all the energy he had left. His world slowly began to fade as the sounds of moving rubble echoed in the distance. 

————————

Benjamin was known for a lot of things. He was known for his stance on the Farwoodian War, which had made him an orphan at 12. He was known for his strict coldness toward everyone, no matter the status. 

That is, except, his husband. 

Daniel had been known to be one of the most gorgeous people in his kingdom, and he was determined to wed him - just to look at his smile, to drag his fingers through his perfect hair, and to own his chiseled body. 

Benjamin was good at getting people to do as he wanted. All it had taken was a few love poems and Daniel was head over heels for the royal. Benjamin was a very good actor when the situation called for it, and had all the pieces fall into place so Daniel could be his complaisant husband, and his eye candy. All that was needed was a bit of romance to ensure his pet wouldn’t stray too far from the flock, and he was set.

Of course, when the King had gotten word of the accident on their anniversary, he had acted sick with grief. His heart didn’t feel very broken, instead feeling a mighty rage that Daniel had wasted all his preparations for the perfect night - he had practiced his lines for weeks, after all. 

His servants and allies had given him great sympathy. The palace was filled with sweets and gifts from all who knew him. 

Benjamin had given the order to search for Daniel’s remains around a week after the news. He was sad to see his pet go, but he had a replacement waiting in the wings when the time was right - he was young, hot, and the foreigner duchess’s son from Monasia. He was perfect. All that was needed was for the funeral arrangements to be made and the funeral held, and then his new husband could finally move in. He had to admit - he needed someone to look at.

What Benjamin didn’t expect, however, was for the knights to bring back his husband alive.

He had been so happy - his eye candy had returned, after all. The healer had done all she could, but couldn’t get rid of the scarring across Daniel’s face, nor the blindness on his left eye. His husband’s beauty turned utterly bland, and left the King extremely displeased. He couldn’t handle having to live the rest of his life without a husband as handsome and as worthy as himself, but he couldn’t ever act that way. 

After all, a King is only as ever powerful as his people. 

Daniel had been overjoyed to be alive and with his love, the one who loved him more than anything in the entire world. He rarely left Benjamin’s side, and Benjamin could admit it was getting annoying - the looks he sent his way weren’t the same without the sun kissed glow or the honey glow of his eyes. Everything Daniel did before only angered him from seeing that fat scar each time and fake a smile. 

He was… in a bit of a situation. Nonetheless, Benjamin would find a way to get rid of him, one way or another. 

—————————

Daniel had never been this angry in his entire life. He’d never felt so betrayed, so upset, so devastatingly sad. He clutched the bundle of letters tightly as he burst open the doors, getting his husband to look up from the work on his desk with a glance and a sickeningly sweet smile. “My dear, what angers you so? It pains me to see you so upset.”

“Benjamin J. Shawcross, you have a lot of explaining to do.” Daniel spat, throwing the letters on his lover’s desk. Benjamin just looked at the letters, still retaining his smile. “Excuse me, but could you please leave me and my husband alone for a moment? We have some… private matters to discuss.”

The council members and handmaidens quickly took their leave after they saw Daniel’s expression. The kingdom had never seen it’s highness get angry before, and it was more than a frightening sight. 

After the double doors were firmly shut, Benjamin just laid his head in his hands. “So, you found the letters.”

“Is that all you have to say, Ben?!” Daniel yelled. “You’re cheating on me, and that’s all you have to say?!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, dear. He’s only a friend.” The King said cooly.

“Friend? A friend who you ask to describe his ‘beauty’? Who you call your ‘honeybee’?” Daniel snapped. 

“If you’re going to overreact this much, I want a divorce.”

Daniel looked like he was slapped. “Excuse me? Why?”

“It’s clear that you don’t trust me and think that I would cheat on you, so-”

“Honey, I’m half-blind and I can see the evidence right in front of you!” Daniel yelled. “I have done nothing but be by your side and support you for over 25 years, and you-” Daniel looked to the side, crossing his arms, too angry to even finish the sentence. 

“You know, you’d think after 25 years your husband would learn to trust you-”

“Bull. Shit.” Daniel interrupted. “I trusted you, I LOVED you, you liar-!” 

“Now my lovely husband wants to accuse me of lying?” Benjamin looked shocked. All this did was anger the Prince more - he was blaming all this on HIM?!

“I’m no husband of yours.” Daniel hissed. “Did you even mean everything you said at the altar? Did you even mean all the kisses, all the talks, everything?!” Daniel yelled, exasperated, the pain so great it stung in an unfamiliar way. What did he ever do to deserve this? Why wasn’t he enough?!

“Of course, my sweet, I meant every moment I had with you.” Benjamin cooed, walking over to his husband and holding him close. “You seem so upset, my love.” His voice was like a siren’s, worming its way into Daniel’s mind and making him feel uneasy. “Did you get enough rest, my sweet?” Benjamin rubbed his husband’s arms soothingly. He knew this song and dance too well, the lovesick fool always fell for it.

Rest?

Daniel felt embarrassed at his husband’s soft tone. Was he tired? He WAS the only one yelling, was it really not that big of a deal? Maybe…

Wait. Wait, wait-

Daniel quickly pushed away Benjamin, utterly disgusted. “Get away from me.” His touch felt so uncomfortable, so caring and loving that it felt unreal. Too unreal. 

It was so weird. His touch never felt uncomfortable before. 

It was like the background around him was fake, and it toppled over in front of him. Fakeness clouded everything around the man he’d called his husband. 

“What’s wrong dear? You look so shaken.” Benjamin looked at his husband in deceitful care. 

“What’s wrong…? You lied to me, cheated on me, and manipulated me for 25 years.” Daniel looked to his husband in pure hate. “I think we’re not going to work out, Ben, and that’s putting it nicely.” Daniel stood tall, staring him down sternly. He felt as if he’d just woke up from a dream, a dream where everything was perfect because he had someone who loved him. He felt slapped, though there were no marks on his face. Even though he wanted so badly to go back to his perfect fantasy world, it would feel tainted and poisoned with chains of control. Control that Daniel wanted back.

Now, Benjamin’s face turned quickly into a chillingly cold grin, as he looked at his husband and laughed deeply. Daniel had never heard him laugh before - it made his entire body tense just at the sound. “You’re smarter than you look, you know.” The king stood in front of his prince, radiating power. “In all the years I’ve been with you, I never thought you’d figure it out.”

“What…?” Daniel breathed, feeling like he was in a nightmare.

“Oh, let me tell you honey, you were hot back in the day. Beautiful enough to have anything and everything your little heart desired. We were both alike in that way, it seemed. What I wanted, dear… what I wanted was you. You were everything I deserved - the most gorgeous person in the kingdom as my husband.” Daniel glared down at his husband, trying to stay composed. “I’d figured that when you got older, I’d have to stage an accident to bring in some fresh meat, but those protesters had given me the right opportunity.” Ben smiled, his hands behind his back as his gaze turned ice cold. “But then you had to go and ruin it by surviving that fall - a miracle indeed, dear. That’s why you need to go.”

“Go…?”

“I’ll have the divorce papers on your desk by tomorrow morning.” The King said, turning to go back to his desk and finish his papers. 

“Wait, I… I don’t-” Daniel turned him around. “If we’re getting a damn divorce, at least give me the decency if telling me why.”

“Why?” The King almost laughed. “You haven’t put it together already dear?” Benjamin grabbed him close and traced his finger along his scar, pushing enough so that Daniel had felt it. “I don’t want damaged goods.” Daniel’s breath hitched at the touch, before his husband had dumped him on the floor. “You’re to grab your things, sign those papers, and leave. I don’t want to see your ugly mutt for as long as I live. Now, shoo.”

Shoo?

Daniel stood and marched over to his desk, slamming his hands on it to grab his attention. “You listen here and you listen good, asshole. You may have been able to order me around like I was your pet for a long time, but I’m not your pet anymore. You think that you can just get rid of me like that, all because of a scar you just can’t bear to see?!” He got up close to his face, practically spitting the next words. “No. Effing. Way.”

—————

Taglist (general people who seemed excited for the update - tell me if you want to be taken off!):

@aphandgflover, @ollyollyoxinfree, @daring-elm

[theatresweetheart]

Desperate Measures [ 2 ]

Fandoms: Sanders Sides, G/t

Warnings: Swearing, fear, main character being treated like a pet. (If I missed something, please let me know!)

Pairings: Romantic/Parental Logicality, Platonic Logince, Platonic TLAMP

Word Count: 1203 words

Taglist: @isle-of-gold @anonymous-bean @sandersships @kaytikitty

Chapter Navigation: Chapter 1, Chapter 3

                                     +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

The sound of the bell above the door jingling caught the attention of a lot of animals and he turned his head. Just enough to see the patron entering. A young man. It was hard to get a good look at him, to see what Logan would be dealing with yet again.

It was only a matter of time before he was going to be treated like a toy instead of a person again, so he instead focused his attention on cleaning the lenses of his glasses on the edges of his shirt. It was far from what he wanted to be cleaning the delicate pieces of glass with but it was the softest fabric he had on him.

The conversation that the patron was having with the shopkeeper was muted and somewhat muffled from where he was, but he could hear the gist of it.

They were talking about the most valuable thing in the shop.

The most exotic sort of pet that there was to date. Which, to the surprise of no one, was himself. There were other animals in here that—if Logan was not around—would certainly be the most prestigious things in the shop, but with the borrower being the pride and joy of this place, it was hard to get past that stigma. Humans wanted to own the most expensive things so they could show it off to their friends and family, to flaunt their wealth by showing it off in stupid ways.

His circular cleaning motions got a bit rougher and it took him a moment to realize that he really didn’t want to break his glasses with careless hand movements.

In a place like this, there wasn’t much he could do to express his anger. At least, not in healthy ways.

After he had substantially cleaned his glasses, he slid them back on for a second time in the past ten minutes.

“…I can show you the pride and joy of our collection,” the shopkeeper said, though their voice sounded tense and almost hesitant. “He’s truly a dear. You’ve just got to…get to know him better.”

“…I’m sure he’s not that bad,” the patron’s voice sounded.

Not that bad, huh?

Taking that as almost a challenge, Logan pushed himself into a stand and took a quick look to where their positions were. The two humans were just in eyesight of the cage. Zoning in on the water basin again, he knew what he was going to do.

Cap or not, he could still do some damage.

He cleared the distance between the metal container and himself in seconds and was pushing against the edge of it again, causing the water to splash back and forth as he tried. He pushed harder, his feet sliding against the slick metal inside before he got a budge out of the dish. The water sloshed back against the side, successfully splashing him in the face. Irritated and wet, his pushing didn’t stop, even when he heard the shopkeeper gasp and then groan.

A second longer and Logan finally managed to dislodge the water dish from the place it was in and gave it one last forceful shove, pushing it completely out and having it clatter loudly against the ground.

Water was spilled everywhere and the shopkeeper groaned louder.

Somewhat proud of his actions, Logan looked back between the shopkeeper—who he really should know the name of by now, but never cared to remember—and the patron who looked effectively shocked.

“This is exactly what I meant,” the young shopkeeper said, stooping down and grabbing the water dish off of the ground before knocking it against the metal bars as if to reprimand the borrower. “Logan, we’ve talked about this. Bad behaviour doesn’t get rewarded.”

Logan sneered. “I’ve displayed to you countless different accounts of my displeasure and yet everything remains unchanged.”

The shopkeeper rolled their eyes, setting the dish to the side. “Why don’t you play nice for once? This young man here might actually want to adopt you if you’re good.”

“Play nice?” Logan echoed, as if the request baffled him. “Is that some sort of rhetorical question?”

“You sure do know some big words, little guy,” the patron bent down a bit more to get on Logan’s level. Brown eyes that rivaled his son’s peered back in towards him and the borrower almost felt winded.

And then he felt insulted.

While another borrower would have taken that as a compliment, Logan knew better. He knew what was implied by that sentence and he did not like it.

“When one lives in a University, you would assume that one would not only learn how to read and contemplate and think beyond the words on the page, but to also understand the context of words that would be too big for otherwise uneducated people,” his eyes sharpened at that and he remained standing by the bars of the cage, “to assume that I do not understand the implications of your words is irrational and, how should I put this lightly? Foolish.”

While the patron looked surprised, confused and offended in his own way, the shopkeeper only shook their head.

“I apologize for him,” they said, rubbing a hand up and down their forehead, “but he’s the only one we still have. The others go quickly because—” the shopkeeper looked directly onto Logan while enunciating their next words, “—they do not talk back to the customer.”

Seething at that, Logan chuckled mirthlessly. To mock, he then enunciated his own sentence. “Get. Fucked.”

The shopkeeper’s mouth dropped open, then stammered for a response to his words when the patron snorted.

When neither of them could find the correct words to respond to him with, Logan felt vindicated.

That was right. He was just as smart as anyone else, if not more brilliant.

With that out of the way, he turned on his heel and went back to sink against the opposing wall of the cage. He tucked his knees back up into his chest and settled his arms against the tops of them, his head placed on his forearms as he watched the two humans smugly, but silently.

“Well, I never!” The shopkeeper finally blabbered, that flabbergasted look never ceasing on their features. “I have had enough of your backtalk. I’m going to—”

“Do what? Take me off of display?” Logan quirked a brow looking unimpressed, the threat that had once meant something, meant absolutely nothing now.

The shopkeeper just seemed defeated after that. “If I knew he was going to be having one of these days, I would have thrown a blanket over the cage,” they said quietly.

“If I knew a borrower would be this entertaining, I would have come down sooner,” the patron said, then startling both the shopkeeper and Logan out of their unintentional staring match.

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

The two of them spoke in almost perfect unison, causing Logan to harden his glare and the shopkeeper to seem even more surprised.

“I’ve already made my decision,” the patron continued on with his train of thought, brown eyes focusing back down onto the borrower sitting in the cage and looking him over. Suddenly, Logan felt incredibly self-conscious. “I’ll take him.”

[teenytinystorage]

A Poolside Chat

Summary: A relaxing dip in the pool to add to his wonderful birthday soon turns into a surprising and gay-panic-festered chat between Roman and Logan.

Word Count: 1,804

Warnings: Multiple food mentions

Pairings: Logince

Happy birthday Roman! Enjoy the Logince, y’all :)

—

As he shut the Imagination’s door behind him, Roman let out a satisfied exhale and fell back, shifting the grasses below him into a pool and landing upon a circular dragon-witch floatie.

He then transformed his usual outfit into a pair of bright red, gold-embroidered swim trunks and a pair of yellow sport sunglasses.

The sun blazed above, but this being the Imagination, the heat was nowhere near oppressive. A cool breeze was only a hand-wave away, and so was a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade.

Peace enveloped him as he let himself drift upon the waters and reflect upon how his birthday had been going thus far.

He woke up to a birthday cupcake (red velvet, of course), and a burst of writer’s inspiration. Then Roman received his individual birth wishes from the other sides throughout the day, each giving him a gift.

They were all standard for each side: one Nightmare Before Christmas poster reluctantly given by Virgil (“No bugging me for any more posters after this, though.” “You got it, Sappy.”), a maroon pair of comfy floor-sticky socks from Patton, a free “no vibe checks for one day” pass from Remus, a pile of Thomas’s nostalgic Playbills from Janus, and a promise of a birthday cake later from Thomas (delivered, not homemade. Who knows how that’d turn out).

And now he sat at his very own pool, relaxing and drifting under the clear sky.

A lovely day indeed, but he soon found himself grappling with hurt as he realized who was missing from that gift list. Logan.

Roman hadn’t seen the nerd all day. No one even knew where he was, especially not Roman. He was looking forward to spending some time with Specs today. Seeing his clear, pristine face, hearing him ramble on about how uncanny having a cupcake for breakfast is, being near him, and maybe even getting to playfully elbow him to feel those cold, strong arms of his…

Roman felt a dopey grin line his cheeks, and although he hadn’t changed the temperature of the Imagination, some warmth coated his face and ears upon the thought.

But, alas, he hadn't seen Logan today. Roman decided that was, ultimately, okay. It meant fewer times for him to embarrass himself, after all.

He took another breath in of the air, coconut and citrus-scented, and dipped his hands into the water-- a door near him creaked open.

Roman didn’t mind it at first. Probably a side giving him a reminder of spaghetti dinner tonight, his favorite meal, or just to check on him.

It was only when the figure’s silhouette entered his shades’ vision did he feel the warmth from before burning him.

“Roman? Are you in here?” Logan called, wringing his hands as he strolled through the Imagination.

Roman secretly wished for his dragon-witch floatie to devour him in its plastic casing. It, sadly, didn’t. But his sunglasses vanished from his face. So that was something.

“Down here!” Roman waved, minimizing the lovesick smile he felt bubbling inside into a cheerful grin.

Logan’s gaze drifted down to him as he approached the outskirts of the pool.

Roman waved again, chuckling. One tick onto his “how many times can this lovesick dope humiliate himself today” list.

Logan crouched down next to the pool, his tie dangling down and nearly dipping into the water. “Greetings, Roman.”

“Hi!” Roman said with enthusiasm. He tried and failed to hide how overjoyed he was.

“It appears my daily attire is unfit for this setting, hm?” Logan noted, standing back up. “Here.”

He swiped his hair up with his hand and shifted from his usual polo and slacks to a pair of black swim shorts.

“There we go. Normally I’d wear a swim shirt as well, but since this is the Imagination, I can’t imagine that I’d be getting any sunburns.”

“I can’t imagine so either,” Roman agreed, forcing his drifting eyes to look back up into Logan’s rather than staring at his bare chest.

Gosh, did he have it bad.

Logan crouched down again and submerged his feet into the water, kicking them back and forth against the pool wall. “So Roman, how has your birthday been going so far?”

“Uh, good,” Roman nodded, leaning on his elbows atop his floatie. “Just the usual birthday routine, y’know? Gifts, desserts, fun, all that-- fun stuff.”

He barely avoided slapping himself.

“I’m quite glad to hear that,” Logan added, his hands moving behind his back. “You deserve to be having a good birthday today.”

“Oh, well, that means a lot, Specs. Thank you!”

“Of course,” Logan bit his bottom lip, glancing away.

Roman let out an awkward chuckle before taking notice of Logan’s hidden hands. He paddled himself over to the wall and floated a few inches in front of Logan. “Whatcha got behind your back there?”

“Ah, it’s…” Logan stopped. He took in a breath.

Roman leaned over, trying to sneak a peek. He couldn’t see what it was, though, so it couldn’t be anything big. “It’s?”

Logan ran one of his hands through his hair and took in another shaky breath. “A gift. For you.” He hesitated, closing an eye, before shoving out his hand and revealing the gift.

It was a red rose, roots still intact.

Logan flinched, looking back at Roman.

Roman dumbly stared at it. “A rose, hm? It’s quite pretty.”

“Yes. A red one, at that. Red. A symbolic color. Happy birthday,” Logan rambled, his arm pulling back a tad.

Roman paddled himself closer, somehow planning on accepting the rose and putting it… where? How would he even get it without falling off the floatie? He didn’t think it through at all, just like anything he did around Logan.

“Did I do this wrong?” Logan asked, curious. “I thought a single red rose signified romantic feelings between people.” He inspected the flower down-up, staring at its roots. “Is it the roots that threw you off? I had a sneaking suspicion that the roots were unnecessary, but I couldn't be sure.”

“Roh… romantic feelings?” Roman stammered, gaping at Logan.

“Yes. That’s right, isn’t it? The internet isn’t always a reliable source, however…” he reasoned, “I spent all day making sure this flower would imply the correct meanings… and maybe also just milling about nervously.”

If he felt warm before, Roman was smoldering now. Like all his cells were replaced with stoked coals. He was probably as red as his swim trunks, too.

“I… I…” Roman tried to sit up from his floatie, still barely comprehending the confession just spoken to him.

But his arm slipped, and he squeaked as his floatie tipped off-balance and caused him to plummet into the pool.

“Roman!” he heard Logan call before he met his aquatic fate.

The cool waters rushed over his burning skin, and he was quite thankful for that. But he found a chilly grip resting on his hand, and soon, another splash met the water.

His blurred vision faintly recognized Logan’s flushed, clear figure ahead of him. Logan’s hair floated above his head in a flowing tuft, and his eyes were shut behind his soaked glasses.

Roman was swimming with a real-life Poseidon.

He would’ve stayed to enjoy the view, but his eyes started to burn and his lungs were pleading for air. Roman breached the surface, bobbing on the water and taking in a long breath of air.

Logan rose out right after, a small coughing fit following.

“You okay?” Roman frowned.

Logan nodded, removing his glasses and taking in a breath as he waded in the waters.

Roman then realized Logan was one of those rarities who looked hot even without their glasses. Unfair! his mind cried as his body warmed once more.

“So, you like me?” Roman said, “Like, you like like me? For realsies?”

Logan nodded, “I do. Like like, you. Or love you, in clearer terms. Or am utterly and illogically infatuated with you, in my own terms.” He glanced over to the rose that lounged alone where he sat before.

Roman grinned like the lovesick fool he was.

“Well,” Roman turned, scratching his neck and looking at Logan through his eyelashes. “I like you too.”

Logan looked back at Roman, holding his glasses in his hands. His calloused, cynical expression softened into a calm, admiring one.

Before Roman could stop himself, he swam to Logan and gave him a peck on his exposed widow’s peak.

He then cupped Logan’s cheek and smiled wider. “I hope that suffices as a worthy reply to your rose.”

Logan glanced down, a small smile quirking his lips as he flipped his hair back-- then Roman could barely react to the new feeling of Logan’s lips on his.

The edges of Roman’s smile curled up before he melted into the moment, Logan’s tangy softness taking over all his senses. He released Logan's cheek and wrapped his arms around Logan’s shoulders to pull him closer. Logan followed, wrapping his arms around Roman's waist.

The kiss ended what seemed like years after as Logan pulled away, his eyes fluttering in that pleasing way only kisses could spur on.

Roman, despite still being above the water, wanted to submerge himself inside this moment forever.

“Hey there, kiddos,” a voice dripping with uncomfort echoed. “Uh, bad time for a five-minute supper warning, huh?”

Logan and Roman yelped at the interruption, separating and turning to face the awkwardly grinning Patton standing at the foot of the pool.

“Thank you for the warning, Pat!” Roman took all his remaining energy to act as normal as possible while still being drunk from the kiss. “We’ll be there soon.”

Patton nodded and quickly dismissed himself, sinking out.

Roman turned to Logan and broke out in laughter.

Logan joined in, and soon, both of them couldn’t stop laughing as they bobbed in the water.

Roman then lifted himself up onto the pool’s wall and sat on its tiles, spilling water everywhere around him. He raised his hand out to Logan and beamed.

“You coming, nerd?”

Logan put his glasses back on before he grabbed onto Roman’s hand.

“Sure am, prep.”

Roman tugged Logan out of the water and watched as Logan sat next to him, grasping the rose and offering it to him once more.

“I now accept your rose,” Roman cooed, taking it from Logan and taking a brief whiff before sending it off to his room.

Logan then summoned two towels, brandished with their respective logos, to dry off with. They both wrapped the towels across their shoulders and stood to make their way to dinner.

But before they left, Roman gave Logan a small smooch on the lips and grasped onto his hand again.

Logan’s lips turned upward with his own foolish, lovesick smile.

Two sugary desserts, a takeout spaghetti dinner, five gifts, a boyfriend, and three kisses? Roman tallied.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

—

[exhaustedfander]

Of Birthday Cakes and Sentimentality

Here’s a fluffy (Slightly late) birthday fic for Logan, featuring Loceit! @coconut-cluster ‘s is wonderful loceit uni au content was really what got me into the ship in the first place.

a03 

word count: 1,755

Logan wakes slowly, the sunlight filtering in through the blinds casting stripes of shadow on the carpet. He glances to his side, vision blurry without his glasses, and frowns. The spot beside him is upsettingly empty. He feels along the sheet, realizing they’ve long since gone cold.

Logan reaches for his glasses on the bedside table, slipping them on and checking the time. 8:00 a.m. Curious. That’s far earlier than Janus is usually up on a Saturday.

His boyfriend is a firm believer that cuddling into the late morning should absolutely be considered self-care, and really, Logan isn’t one to challenge that notion. He might put up a fight from time-to-time, but it’s all for show and Janus knows as much. Logan can pretend he’s above cuddling all he wants, but as his boyfriend would say, he’s a dreadful liar.

Logan wonders what might’ve compelled Janus to rouse from his slumber so much earlier than usual, before noticing a sweet smell wafting through the apartment. This only raises more questions. What could Janus be making at this time of day that would smell so saccharine?

Logan rises from bed slowly, still bleary and comforted by the warmth of the duvet around him – but certainly missing the feeling of Janus against him. The hardwood is cool beneath his feet as he stands, the scent of baked-goods – yes, that’s definitely it – drifting through the air gaining in strength.

He glances at the mirror hanging on their bedroom wall, his hair a fright and pajamas still on, and Logan realizes he doesn’t care. It isn’t usually odd for someone to be comfortable not looking entirely presentable in their own home, but this is Logan, a man who practically lives in polos and neckties. He’s been told more than a few times by several people that he could stand to “loosen up.” While he’s not always the best at it, Logan can certainly try; it is his birthday, after all.

Oh. Wait – it’s his birthday. He’d completely forgotten. Likely, Janus remembered, though. And with the sweet smell coming from the other room, and the day of the year, that must mean…

Logan opens the door to look out across their open living and kitchen area to see Janus standing at a kitchen counter smeared with flour, a jar of crofters, and an array of baking ingredients around him.

Janus has never been one to bake, as far as Logan’s concerned. It’s not that he isn’t proficient in cooking, it’s just never been something he’s seemed particularly invested in. But here Janus stands, in his pajamas opening the oven and pulling out circular bakeware Logan’s certain they don’t own. The smell of vanilla is now detectable, and Logan can’t stop the smile from slipping onto his face.

“Good morning,” he says softly, trying not to break Janus’s fragile concentration.  

A spoon clatters against the ground, Janus all but shrieking as he turns around to face Logan. Concentration be damned, it seems.

“You weren’t supposed to be awake yet!” Janus huffs, bending down to retrieve the spoon, dropping it in the sink.

“I wasn’t aware I was meant to be confined to our bed until you said otherwise,” Logan responds sarcastically, walking up to Janus.

Getting a better look at him now, Logan can see there’s flour smeared on his yellow pajama shirt and pants, their small kitchen rather cluttered. Just a few years ago, Logan would’ve sworn against sentimentality. He’s a man of logic, a man of intellect and focus. And yet… his time with Janus has worn down that stubborn belief that romanticism and he are separate beings.

Janus is a lot of things. Passionate, driven, cunning, affectionate to a point that Logan thought he’d never tolerate, nor grow to love. But right now he’s also making Logan a birthday cake at eight in the morning and Logan can’t help but feel the emotion well up inside of him.

“Happy birthday,” Janus says, moving to embrace him before remembering the mess he is. “I’d kiss you senseless, but –,” he gestures vaguely to himself. Logan shakes his head, the stubborn smile on his face refusing to leave.

“I don’t care,” Logan says, leaning down to connect his lips with Janus’s, his hands cupping either side of his face, thumb tracing along the faded scar on Janus’s left cheek. Janus sighs into the kiss, his hands settling on Logan’s waist. The two pull close to one another. The taste of vanilla mingles on Logan’s tongue, and he can’t help the laugh that bursts from him. Janus pulls away, eyebrows raised.

“What’re you laughing about?”

“Nothing,” Logan says, trying to bite back the laughter, and failing quite miserably, “It’s just – you taste sweet.”

“Well,” Janus says, tone matter-of-fact, “I needed to taste-test the batter, didn’t I? And, this way, you know your cake isn’t poisoned.”

“Ah, true. Unless, of course, you’ve developed an immunity to whatever you’ve poisoned me with.”

“Guess it’ll be a surprise then,” Janus says teasingly, before returning to finishing the cake.

“You really didn’t need to go to so much trouble, darling,” Logan says, watching as Janus stirs a bowl of white frosting that he must’ve been fiddling with a moment ago.

“It’s a cake, Logan. You act as if I’ve been slaving away. It’s the least I can do.”

“Yes, well, you woke up early. On a Saturday. And you’re baking… I don’t believe we own any bakeware.”

“I’m perfectly content with waking up a little early on your birthday,” Janus says pointedly, eyes fixed on the frosting he’s creaming. “And no, we do not own any bakeware. But Patton does, and I asked him to lend me it.”

“Janus –.”

“And, I had him explain the steps in great detail over the phone, as to not royally screw this up. I know I’m not always a master in the kitchen.”  

“I never said anything about your cooking skills,” Logan interjects. “Seriously, love. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Janus says with so much sincerity, Logan wonders if his heart might burst. “I’ll have you know, it’s a crofters filling.” Logan’s eyes light up at that.

“Well, that… does sound quite good.”

“Oh, does it now?” Janus asks teasingly, holding an icing-covered spoon to Logan’s mouth. “Taste this and tell me if you like it.” Logan obliges, sticking the spoon in his mouth and humming around it. Janus chuckles.

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s delicious,” Logan says, moving to take another spoonful before Janus pulls the bowl from his reach.

“How about we save some for the actual cake, hm?”

“I suppose…”

“Go, on. Sit down,” Janus says, motioning towards the table, “The cake ‘ll be done in a minute.”

“Cake is hardly an appropriate breakfast,” Logan points out, earning a glare from his boyfriend.

“Allow me to remind you for the millionth time this morning, that it is your birthday,” Janus says, spreading the frosting with a knife over the top of the cake. “Cake for breakfast on the day of your birth is absolutely appropriate.” Logan scoffs.

“I can’t see why. There’s hardly anything special about today. It’s merely the anniversary of me being alive another year. I can’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”

“Hardly anything special?” Janus asks, slightly incredulously. “Hardly anything special, he says! Do you realize, that were it not for you being born, we never would’ve met?” Logan’s heart pangs at that.

“Janus.”

“And then where would I be? Who would I debate with into absurd times in the morning? Who would teach me about each and every constellation he knows about, so excited to share his passion? Who would I bully into going to bed at a decent time?” Logan tries to interject, but Janus isn’t having any of it, “Don’t you start. You may preach about circadian rhythm and the importance of going to bed at a decent time, but I’ve found you asleep at your desk far too many times now.”

“In all fairness,” Logan says, trying not to let the sentimentality well up in him, “I’ve also found you asleep on the couch, and at the table late at night a fair few times.”

“Well then, it seems we’re meant to take care of one another,” he says like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say. As though it’s not achingly tender.

A slice of cake is slid in front of Logan.

“The point is, I love you. Let me make you a stupid cake, and have our friends over for a movie night,” Logan opens his mouth in protest, but Janus is quicker, “A very casual movie night. Just Patton, Virgil, Roman, and Remus and whatever movie of your choosing. Clue, perhaps?” Logan perks up at the mention of one of his favorite films, and Janus grins.

“Clue would be… nice,” Logan admits. Janus pecks him on the cheek.

“Then that’s what we’ll watch. Now, take a bite, the anticipation is positively killing me,” Janus drawls out dramatically, gesturing to the cake. Obliging, Logan scoops a piece of the cake with his fork, popping it in his mouth.

“Mmm,” is as dignified of a response as Logan cares to give, but Janus looks pleased with himself all the same.

“You like it?” Janus asks, already knowing the answer. Logan nods, grabbing at the collar of Janus’s shirt and pulling him into his lap. “Goodness, what’s gotten into you?”

“You were just giving a rather sappy declaration of love,” Logan explains, pressing his lips to Janus’s. “And, you made me a cake.” Another kiss. “With Crofters.” A kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And you’re having our friends come over for a movie night, for me.” A kiss. “And I love you, so very much, my dear.”

“I love you too,” Janus responds, seemingly happy with his place in Logan’s lap, “But I thought you didn’t care about your birthday?”

“I don’t,” Janus doesn’t believe that for a second, “But you rather seem to. And it’s kind of… nice,” Logan admits, voice soft, “To have you care about something so seemingly silly so much.”

“Oh, you think I care about you? Wherever did you get an idea like that?” Logan chuckles as Janus presses a kiss to his cheek, his face resting in the crook of Logan’s neck.

“I haven’t a clue.”

Logan could pretend he didn’t care about birthdays till the cows came home, but Janus would always call his bluff. And really, Logan can’t find it in himself to complain.

=+=

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