#also this virgil i drew? cute as fuck.

[expolikestoart]

have you ever been so mad you got kissed even though you, ON PURPOSE, dressed up all fancy for your date hoping to be kissed?

@anaroceitweek

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

*materializes into existence*

[Warning: spider, human eyeball on clothing]

Okay, so. Imagine Virgil in a spider form and he shows Remus after a bit of building/rebuilding trust.

I drew it :D

Excuse my bad human anatomy; I don't draw humanoids well, lmao :3

Enjoy the fanart! I may post this later...may not, idk.

...fuck, I forgot the teeth that go on his outfit, ignore that

S O B B I N G this is cute as hell Oatmeal!!! That's such a wholesome concept and I absolutely L O V E the art so damn much!!! The look of fascination on Ree's face is adorable (O B S E S S E D with his earrings by the way and the little detail on his sash looks S O good!!!) And look at Spider!Vee he's so tiny and he's just chilling on his boyf's hand!!! (Also not sure if this was intentional but I L O V E L O V E L O V E that the background looks like spooked out faces simply a perfect background for the Spooky Gays <3)

[fangirltothefullest]

Idk if you still want some teen!eldritch horror ask but like sweet youngest babies (Lo n V) being hit with the puberty stick before their big bro’s sounds like fun. Like idk Remus n Ro realizing one day that their baby bro’s are taller than them. Or Virgil’s voice dropped somewhere near the earth’s core wtf, how is this allowed?

This is so cute but Ro and Re are 4 years older than Lo and Vi! They go through puberty first but Remus DOES get taller than Roman first because they’re technically mirror twins and so he hits his growthspurt before Roman (and gets facial hair too) and Roman is shorter and PISSED. 

Roman hits his puberty a few years later but at 17 Remus holds it over him ALL the time. Remus is like.... the one everyone thinks is a jock and he totally works out but it’s just because he REALLY likes to show off his really cool markings that definitely don’t open into giant horrible mouths with innumerable  tongues and teeth nosiree.He also likes to manifest tentacles and that’s a lot easier without his shirt. Though he does like the ripped aesthetic they’re bulkier than when he was a kid so the holes are much less holes and more like the entire back of his shirt is just... gone....

Roman, resident thespian, is so fucking pissed Remus just walks around with his moustache looking hideous, like come on if only one of us can grow facial hair at LEAST shave or cut it so it looksless like an ugly porn stache.

Like their brothers before them, Virgil and Logan are chubbier when they’re 13. They’ll hit a growthspurt later and that slims Virgil (not that fat is bad its just what’s gonna happen to him in particular) But I have decided that Logan remains lovely and fat and softer because why the hell not, he’s adorable! Chonk Logan Rights! And he takes after Patton who is also heavier and why should deity-like creatures be skinny? Not in my fantasy world. Nope. Disregard any image I drew before with older Logan being skinny it’s IRRELEVANT and so says I.

Anyways, they can hide their more eldritch/celestial appearances but never the teeth, ears or claws. Those always stay.

Virgil's voice does drop way before Logan's though and they absolutely as older siblings will, tease them both.

[oliviaischillin1204]

let’s play a game

Pairings: Platonic LAMP

Word Count: 5,983 words

inspired by this post by @thetickleeraven (thank you dani!! this was why i sent you that ask a few days ago lol, i hope i did your idea justice)

imma keep it real with you chief. idk how good this is but it’s Long and also i haven’t posted anything in over a month and i miss it so i hope y’all enjoy and hopefully i will be able to keep this motivation train going

Honestly, no one could really agree on who was to blame for the game. They had just been talking about what to do for their next game night (Patton’s idea) when the subject somehow came around to how much fun they all had when they played tickling games together (Roman’s fault, of course). Then someone (Logan, probably) began brainstorming a potential set of rules and regulations, and the game was made.

But if anyone really wanted the truth, well. It was Virgil who asked if they could play it tonight. So here they were.

“Everyone remember the rules?” Logan asked, smoothing a hand over his tie like he did when he was nervous. Roman nodded, pulling out the instructions on a sparkly piece of paper.

“Each number on the die correlates to a type of laugh. 1 is snort, 2 is giggle, 3 is squeal, 4 is scream, 5 is whine, and 6 is cackle,” he recited. “My and Patton’s objective is to coax that type of laughter from our respective lees, in any way possible.”

He shot his eyes over to Logan, who pointedly did not let his gaze drop, even as his cheeks grew warmer. Next to him, Virgil was already wrapping his arms around his midriff as Patton gave him a cheeky smile.

“If the ler can accomplish his task in less than one minute, he gets two points,” Roman continued. “If he succeeds after one minute, both the ler and the lee get one point. Zero points to the ler and two points to the lee if the group agrees that the lee has lasted long enough without letting the ler win.”

Virgil scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s definitely not a biased way to measure it.”

“Oh, so you think the lee should be tickled until they give up whatever laughter their ler is looking for?” Roman asked, quirking his head innocently. “Because if that’s what you want, to get tickled and tickled until you finally break, we can change the rules now--”

“Okay! Enough!” Virgil blurted, face significantly redder than it was a few seconds before. He hugged himself tighter as Roman laughed, reaching over to pat his knee in reassurance.

“Everyone ready, gang?” Patton asked, his face full of excitement.

“Ready!” Roman chirped, while Virgil and Logan merely nodded. “Who wants to go first?” 

Virgil paused, looking around the small circle before dropping his eyes to his hands in his lap. He wanted to play the game, of course, he wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t want to do it, but the idea of going first was not looking particularly appealing to him. Luckily, Logan must have caught on to his discomfort, because the logical side drew everyone’s attention with a small cough.

“If it’s all the same,” he said, “I think I’d prefer it if Roman and I were first.”

Roman grinned. “Just can’t wait, can you?” He smirked when Logan’s face went a bit pink at his words, and he reached for the die.

“Okay, here we go...” he said grandly, somehow managing to turn a simple phrase so dramatic that the other three sides couldn’t help but laugh. He shook the die in his hand and dropped it onto the floor, allowing all four of them to watch it roll to a stop. 

Patton leaned forward, straightening his glasses. “That’s a 5!”

Immediately Logan had to fight off a nervous smile, especially when Roman turned to him with a joyful look in his eyes.

“You know what to do, Specs,” he said with a certain teasy tone in his voice. “On your stomach, please.”

Logan complied without protesting, mostly because he was a little grateful to start the game on one of his less intense spots. He laid his head on his folded arms, feeling a little shy under Virgil and Patton’s curious gazes.

“One minute on the timer, starting...” 

He couldn’t hear anything behind him for a few seconds, and the awful anticipation made him want to squirm. Finally, just before he was about to ask Roman if everything was alright, he felt two fingers slowly begin to walk down his spine.

“Ah-ha!” he exclaimed before he could stop himself, quickly pressing his lips into a thin line. Roman’s low chuckle from somewhere behind him was not helping in the slightest.

“Don’t be rude, Teach,” he teased, speeding up his fingers a bit as he began skimming the fingers from his other hand around his shoulderblades. “I just want to hear you whine, and what better way to do that than tickling your favorite melt spot? I mean, it is still your favorite, isn’t it?”

Logan didn’t answer, half because he didn’t want to admit that Roman was right, and half because he’s not sure what sort of noises would come out of him if he opened his mouth right now. All of his focus was on Roman’s skilled fingers, now focused on spidering down his spine to congregate on the back of his hips, occassionally giving quick scratches to the exposed stretch of skin above his pantline where his shirt had come untucked.

“Tickle tickle tickle,” Roman murmured, and wow they really should’ve made a rule against verbal teasing because it was making the fluttering feeling against his back so much more tickly. Logan found himself subtly rocking back and forth, as if he could displace Roman’s hands by moving his torso two inches to the left.

“Oh, feeling a bit wiggly, are we?” Roman asked, the smirk audible in his voice. “Hang on, I think I remember what to do here--”

Logan’s eyes went wide, but it was too late: Roman had shoved one hand up his shirt and was now grazing that one specific spot on the back of his ribs with his fingernails. Slowly, slowly, slowly.

Logan’s back arched involuntarily, and he let out a quiet, high pitched keening noise that no one could deny was a textbook whine. He began to let out quiet giggles as well, muffling the sound into his arms with no avail.

“The trick is to only do one side at a time,” he heard Roman confide in their onlookers. “Two hands makes him absolutely freak out, but one hand is just enough to--”

“Stohohop! You won!” Logan blurted through his giddy noises. He heard Roman scoff in mock offense before finally pulling his hand out of Logan’s shirt, pulling it back down and patting his back comfortingly.

“Thank you for the points, Pocket Protector! I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re too upset about losing, are you?”

Logan rolled his eyes as he sat up, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Yes, yes, you passed the first round. Congratulations on your two points. Whose turn is it now?”

Patton giggled. “Our turn, silly!” He turned to Virgil, raising his eyebrows.

“Virge, you ready?”

“Yep,” Virgil replied quickly. “I’ll roll.” He snatched up the die before he could change his mind, rolling it in his palm. Something about being the one in control of the dice made him feel better, and Roman always says confidence is key, so maybe the universe would see how bold he was being and would go easy on him--?

The die dropped from his hand by accident and rolled to a stop on the floor, with the number 1 practically glowing up at him.

“Fuck off.” Thanks, universe.

To his left, Patton gave a dramatic gasp. “Virgil! Language!” His eyes narrowed, turning playfully dangerous as he continued, “Oh, you’re gonna be sorry you said that, kiddo! Roman, get the timer!”

Virgil’s eyes widened, and it took everything in him to not full on run away from what he knew he was coming; but, again, he agreed to play by the rules, so he only fought a minimal amount as Patton crawled forward to pull him to his doom.

“Patton, no, Patton, no, Patton no!” 

“Patton, yes!” Patton replied, pulling the flailing anxious side towards him until Virgil’s back was leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Timer’s ready,” Roman interjected with a fair bit of amusement. He started the stopwatch, holding it up so Patton and Virgil could see it.

“Are you ready, Virgil? Are you ready?” Patton cooed, watching in delight as Virgil’s ears turned bright red. “Oh, it’s tickle time! It’s tickle time! It’s ticky-ticky-ticky tickle time!”

“Pahahatton!” he protested, already slipping into giggles as he fought to keep Patton’s breath off of his ear. “No tahahalking!”

“Oh, no talking?” Patton hummed, being kind enough to not press him mouth against Virgil’s neck so he could torture him with the vibrations. “Well, if I can’t talk, maybe I’ll just have to--”

He struck before finishing his sentence, catching Virgil off guard with a big, noisy kiss right behind his ear. A sound that was half laugh, half yell escaped his lips before he slammed his hands over his mouth.

“Oh, whatcha doing, Virgil?” Patton asked, peering over to catch his eye. “You trying not to laugh, silly billy? You think you can hold it in? Aw, you’re so cute!”

He combined the compliment with a soft peck of a kiss to the back of Virgil’s ear, and a full body shiver wracked Virgil’s frame. Patton grinned, and repeated the action several more times, tightening his hold around Virgil’s waist to keep him from squirming right out of his lap.

“Do you like my kisses, Virgil? Huh? Virgey likes the kissy-kisses?”

Virgil grunted behind his hands, his eyes screwed shut in half desperation and half embarrassment.

Patton grinned. Virgil was so silly! By covering his mouth and being forced to breathe through his nose, he was making it much easier to coax those cute little snorts out of him! Speaking of which--

“Virgil,” he murmured, letting his warm breath brush over Virgil’s ear and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “I’m gonna give you to the count of three, and then you’re gonna give me those snorts. Okay? One...”

Virgil shook his head frantically, but Patton paid him no mind.

“Two...”

A choked laugh came from behind his hands, but Patton didn’t do anything. He just sat there, casually exhaling slowly over the back of Virgil’s neck. The anxious side continued to squirm, his entire body tensed for the anticipated attack, but still nothing came. He knew it was a trick, he knew it, but he couldn’t keep his muscles tensed forever, so maybe if he just relaxed for a quick second he could--

The instant Patton felt Virgil’s body go slightly slack in his arms, he pressed his lips to the back of his neck and blew the biggest raspberry he could manage.

Virgil gasped and burst out laughing in quick succession, hands dropping from his mouth as he weakly tried to push Patton away from him somehow. He inhaled loudly, letting his breath run out with his laughter, and then--

Snort.

“Gohohod dammit!” Virgil screamed through his uncontrollable giggles, face growing even redder as he made another adorable snorting sound. He was aware of Roman cheering and Logan saying something about points, but all he could think about was how desperately he needed Patton’s mouth off of his neck right now immediately.

Unfortunately for him, Patton didn’t relent, instead blowing a bunch of smaller rasperries against his neck to keep Virgil snorting for at least a few more seconds. Just so they could get a clear ruling on whether or not he’d won the points! No other reason, of course.

Finally he let Virgil go, unwrapping his arms from his waist as the other side shot his hands up to rub at his poor neck protectively.

“Got your snorties, little piggie!” Patton chirped. Virgil tried to glower at him, but the effect was ruined by his bright pink cheeks and wobbly smile.

“So that’s two points for Roman, two points for Patton, and none for Virgil or myself,” Logan repeated. “Roman, will you roll the die?”

Roman grinned. “With great pleasure, Loganberry!” He snatched up the die, only giving it a few shakes before throwing it to the floor. It bounced for a moment until it came to rest right in front of Logan.

He peered at it, and his eyes lit up in triumph. “Ah. This will be an easy one, then.”

“Why, what’d you get?” Patton asked. Logan carefully picked up the die and presented the number 2 to the group.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And that makes this easy for you, because...?”

“Because,” Logan said stiffly, shifting his glasses, “I do not giggle.”

The other three sides paused as his words sunk in.

“Logan, buddy,” Roman said gently, “we’ve definitely heard you giggle before. Like, two minutes ago.”

Logan huffed. “Because I wasn’t trying to control myself at that point. Trust me, if given the opportunity, I am perfectly adept at withholding such light laughter.”

He wasn’t expecting Roman to suddenly cross the distance between them, kneeling before him with a focus that made him shrink back on instinct.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, ” Roman said, pushing Logan by the shoulders until he was flat on his back, easily crawling over his hips and pinning his arms above his head with one hand. The bright and dangerous look in his eyes was enough to make Logan freeze like a trapped animal.

He heard Patton say something about the timer, but all he could focus on was Roman, as the creative side raised one hand to hover over his chest.

The two of them made eye contact for just a moment, before Roman grinned.

“The itsy, bitsy spider went up the water spout--”

Logan’s eyes bulged. “No--!”

But it was too late: Roman began spidering his fingers up Logan’s side, starting from just above his hips and lazily crawling up his torso.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out!”

He scratched his way down Logan’s side again, taking his time to thoroughly cover the sensitive spots with tickles. Logan writhed, throwing himself as far to the other side as he could.

“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,” Roman sang, leaning forward to blow cool air across Logan’s neck to make him squirm while his fingers focused on one specific spot halfway up his side.

“Ssst- stohohop, stop,” Logan begged. Roman ignored him in favor of tightening his grip on Logan’s wrists as he moved his fingers higher again.

“And the itsy, bitsy spider--”

“No!”

“Went up the spout--”

“Roman!”

“Again!” Roman cheered as his fingers made his way to Logan’s exposed armpit, scratching and skittering away in the ticklish little hollow. Logan bucked, twisted his body, and yanked on his arms as hard as he could, but despite everything, he did not giggle.

“Thirty seconds, Ro!” Patton called. Roman’s mouth set into a firm line.

“If you make me lose, Lo, I’ll make you regret it,” he murmured. He stopped tickling as he pulled his hand back, and Logan took the break to exhale.

“If you lose, it will be because of your own inadequacy,” he retorted, still pulling on his arms. Roman’s eyes narrowed.

“Yep, regret time starts now,” he announced, and before Logan could react, he released his hold on Logan’s wrists and attached both hands to his ribs, squeezing and prodding the bones with no rhyme or reason.

“Ro-oman! Nahahahaha- nohoho!” Logan’s shocked laughter bust out of him at the unexpected intense tickles. His hands dropped, trying to pull Roman’s hands off of his ribcage, but Roman’s vibrating fingers made him weak with laughter.

“There it is!” Roman said triumphantly. “See, we just need to break you down first, right? That’s all you need, just some big tickles so we can break down those walls!” His grin morphed into a smirk as he suddenly abandoned Logan’s ribs and grabbed his wrists once again, wiggling his free hand over Logan’s armpit.

“And now we just--”

His finger dove in, spiraling in circles around Logan’s hollow before dipping into the deepest part of his armpit. Logan gasped, body going tense for a short second before he went limp, falling into helpless giggles at the teasy pit tickles.

Virgil snickered from the sidelines, leaning over to check the stopwatch. “And with 5 seconds left, Logan loses yet again.” He laughed out loud at the petulant pout on Logan’s face, but stopped laughing as Logan sat up, grabbing the die and tossing it to him.

“Your turn, Virgil,” he said smoothly. “I do hope Patton doesn’t target your tummy next. That would just be awful for you.”

Virgil flushed as Patton and Roman laughed, but he did roll the die quickly enough that he couldn’t pretend he hated Logan’s suggestion. It bounced for a second before coming to a stop in front of Patton, whose brow furrowed in determination.

“Oh, this is a hard one,” he admitted while looking down at the 3. “Virgil doesn’t really squeal that much, ‘cause if it tickles that bad he usually just starts laughing right away.”

Virgil made an embarrassed noise. “Pat--”

“I mean, I know his giggle spots, snorty spots, cackle spots, but squeals? He’s just too ticklish to not full-on laugh--”

“Pat!”

“Hm?” Patton looked back up at Virgil’s red face, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ before breaking into a smile. “Aw, sorry, stormcloud! I didn’t mean to tease.”

Virgil grumbled, but didn’t move away when Patton gently pushed him onto his back, hands covering his stomach instinctively. “Just-- just get it over with.”

“Don’t fret, Doom and Gloom!” Roman said, setting up the timer. “You might get some points this round!”

Logan made a disagreeing noise, looking down at Virgil with a teasy smile. “Oh, I have a good deal of faith that Patton will be able to make his little ‘stormcloud’ squeal.”

Virgil groaned, head thumping back onto the floor. “Oh my God, just be quiet-- ah!”

He jerked as he felt Patton’s fingers running along his neck, swiping up at his ears and down to his collarbone.

“Maybe there’s some squeals up here? What do you think?”

“Ngh!” Virgil spluttered, fighting to keep his hands from batting at Patton’s. His nails seemed to glide over the thin skin of his neck, sending the worst kinds of tingles down his spine and making his breath come faster.

“Hm, no? Are you sure?” Patton croon, tracing a finger around and around Virgil’s ear, giggling to himself as Virgil jerked his head away from the tickles. His fingers skittered downwards, coming to rest in the middle of Virgil’s chest.

“Let’s see... where should we go...”

He hummed in consideration, fingers skimming in different directions to keep Virgil guessing as he squirmed.

“How about... right here!” he finished, darting his hands down to tase Virgil’s sides. Just as he said, Virgil immediately broke into loud laughter, body moving from one side to another in a weak attempt to dodge the fluttering fingers on either side of his torso.

“A ticky-ticky-ticky-tickle!” Patton cooed. “Tickle-tickle-tickle, little Virgey! Oh, does it tickle, honey? Yeah? It does? Oh, I bet it just tickles so bad!”

He continue to tickle and tease, even though Virgil was well past the point of squealing. His eyes were screwed shut in giddy delight, his belly laughs coming fast and clear in his sensitive state.

Patton’s fingers trailed from his sides to his ribs to his underarms. “Hm, none o these are squealy spots, huh? You’re just too ticklish, huh, Virgil?”

“Plehehease,” Virgil giggled, embarassment curling in his stomach. “Dohohon’t--”

“Just squeal for me!” he replied cheerfully. “Come on, Virgey, you can do it!”

Virgil was laughing his head off, but he still didn’t even try to fake a squeal-- just because he didn’t want to give Patton two points, of course, and not because he might have actually been enjoying the tickles.

Until, of course, Patton’s hands reared up to hover over his stomach.

“Logan had such a good idea earlier,” he chirped. “Time for tummy tickles!”

Virgil gasped, sucking in his stomach as far as it would go, but a second later his laughter exploded out of him yet again as Patton began scribbling his fingers all over his stomach without preamble.

“Ahahahahahaha! Nahahahaha!” Virgil couldn’t stop himself from shooting his hands down to cover his stomach, but Patton merely tickled all of the exposed skin that he couldn’t cover at once. His feet drummed on the floor as he fought through his laughs, and between that and Patton’s incessant teasing he almost couldn’t hear the ‘beep beep’ of Roman’s phone in the background.

“Pahahat! The timer!”

Patton pouted. “Aw, so soon?” He pulled back, giving Virgil a chance to breathe, but a small cough from one of their onlookers pulled his attention.

“Actually, Patton,” Logan interjected, “the rules clearly state that the ler may continue until the group decides that the lee has lasted long enugh.” He smirked down at Virgil before turning to Roman. “Do you think he’s lasted long enough, Roman?”

Roman put a hand to his chin and hummed in consideration. He looked down at Virgil’s blushy, teary face, before grinning.

“I think Patton can still get those squeals! That okay, Virgil?”

Virgil glared at the two of them, who return his look with shit-eating grins.

“You are so de-ead!” Virgil’s threat ended in another explosion of helpless giggles as Patton returned to his task, squishing his tummy pudge with a cheerful dilligence.

“Oh, oh, oh! Virgil! I think I see somewhere your squeals might be hiding!”

Virgil craned his neck to look at Patton’s hands, which were now clawing the air right above his belly button. He gasped again.

“Nah! Not there!” he cried, drawing his legs up to protect his stomach.

“But Virgil! I wanna play with your little button!” Patton replied, grabbing Virgil’s legs. He just wanted to pull them down so he could really give his little tickle button the attention it deserved, but then--

Virgil squeaked, loudly, when Patton’s fingers wrapped around his knee.

Virgil and Patton froze, sharing a look of surprise for a few seconds, before Patton gave him an evil grin.

“What was that, stormcloud?”

“N- nothing, nothing!” Virgil replied quickly, tugging at his legs, but he couldn’t stop Patton from gripping around his calf with one arm and clawing just above his kneecap with his other hand.

“Is this a tickle spot someone forgot to tell me about?” he asked innocently. Virgil shook his head, smile growing.

“Patton-- Popstar, please, I’ll do whatever you want, don’t ti-- don’t touch me!”

Patton tsked, swirling one finger around the bone. “Aw, I’m so sorry, honey, but you know the rules! If I find a tickle spot, I have to play with it!” He began pinching and vibrating his fingers in the muscle above Virgil’s knee, which sent him into desperate, frantic laughter, weakly trying to kick his legs out of Patton’s grip.

“You know, for someone with such tickly knees, your jeans sure have a lot of holes in them,” Patton pondered aloud, worming his fingers through one of the rips and scratching at Virgil’s bare skin.

“Wahahait-- wait!”

“Wait for what?” Patton asked, tracing his nails along his kneecap. “We’re just playing a game, right? Are you having fun, kiddo?”

Virgil’s giggles refused to dim enough for him to speak, but he still managed a small nod at Patton’s question.

“Aw, I’m having a lot of fun with you, too, stormcloud!” Patton cooed, darting a hand up to give a quick tickle to Virgil’s thighs, then to his hips, up to his tummy, back down to his thighs-- moving his hand too quickly for Virgil to predict or protect himself, all while his other hand was lazily tickling all around his bare knee.

“Tickle tickle tickle! Tickle tickle tickle! Aw, listen to those giggles! Those little giggly tickly giggles!” Patton’s teasing was pushing Virgil to the edge, the different sensations were keeping him in an unending stream of laughter, and he didn’t know how it could get any worse.

So of course, Patton chose that moment to slips his fingers around to caress the underside of Virgil’s knee, his nails tracing and stroking the thin skin.

“Tickle, tickle--”

And just like that, Virgil was squealing, loud and high pitched and desperate. He writhed on the floor, all of his attention on that one terrible little spot behind his knee. His hands came up in a useless attempt to cover his mouth.

“I did it!” Patton said triumphantly. He pulled his hands back to give Virgil room to breathe.

“You-- you--” Virgil panted, a wobbly smile on his face. When Patton continued to give him a beaming smile, he sighed and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yeah, you did it, Pat,” he said. “Good job.”

Patton chuckled, helping Virgil lean his head in his lap so he could rest. “Good job to you to, kiddo! You lasted way more than a minute!”

“One point for Virgil, and another point for Patton,” Roman confirmed. Eyes flicking between Virgil and Logan, he gave a cheeky smile as he turned to Logan and asked, “Hey, Specs, does that mean you’re the only one without a point?”

Logan bristled. “That is irrelevant. The game is not over yet.”

Roman’s grin widened. “We’ll see.” He grabbed the die, tossing it once in the air and catching it in his palm before holding it out to Logan. “Would you care to do the honors?”

Logan plucked the die from his hand without responding, thinking to himself as he prepared to roll. Of the 6 potential outcomes, he would have the best luck with one of the rolls he’d already gotten, 5 or 2. He was confident in his abilities to withhold his snorts or his squeals, so 1 or 3 were also safe bets. And honestly, he didn’t really tend to “cackle” (which was a subjective term and not a good indicator for the game, but that didn’t stop Roman from including it anyway) so 6 was also most likely a safe bet. Therefore, he had a 5/6 chance at getting at least one point this round.

With the security of someone who knows the odds, Logan rolled the die to Roman’s feet.

Roman looked down at it, an intentionally unreadable look on his face.

“Well?”

Roman didn’t answer, instead grabbing the die and showing it to Patton and Virgil, rudely keeping it out of Logan’s view. Based on Patton’s happy gasp and Virgil’s amused huff of laughter, Logan was not amused.

“What did I roll?” he asked sharply as Roman passed the die to Patton. “Patton!”

Patton laughed aloud. “Sorry, Logi.” He held up the die for Logan to see, and the logical side’s face paled at the sight of the number 4 peering back at him.

The world abruptly spun as Logan felt himself suddenly being moved from his seated position to lying flat on his back. The fall shocked him, but to his greater surprise he realized he was still moving-- he was being dragged across the carpet by his ankles.

“No!” he yelped before he could stop himself.

“Oh, yes!” Roman said, capturing both of Logan’s ankles underneath one arm, looking over his shoulder with a terrible grin. “We all know what it takes to make you scream, isn’t that right?”

One lazy finger trailed down Logan’s left sole, and he jumped, shaking his head frantically as his lips stayed clamped shut. Roman responded by adding a second finger, this time giving just the lightest of scratches to his right sole.

“Ngh,” Logan said, eloquent as ever. Roman chuckled.

“Aw, speechless already? Gosh, you must be really ticklish here if you can’t even handle a couple fingers. Maybe I should just--”

Roman began scratching against Logan’s heels, but nearly stopped when the logical side made a desperate noise, yanking his legs as hard as he could.

“Please!”

His voice was so full of panic, it made Roman stop, looking back with genuine concern at the blushy mess of a side on the floor behind him. Logan met his eyes, but despite how desperate he had sounded a moment before, he did not try any further attempts to escape.

“Oh, you really can’t handle the buildup, huh?”

Logan shook his head, eyes screwed shut and cheeks flushed. The following silence made him tense up with anticipation.

“... Okay, okay, don’t worry, Logan. I won’t be so mean as to tease your worst spot.”

His words settled over Logan, who, after a moment of surprise, breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank--”

Roman didn’t even let him finish his sentence before shoving his fingers directly under Logan’s toes, scratching at the skin with a merciless accuracy.

Logan immediately broke into loud screams of laughter.

“Ahahahahahahaha! Nahaha! Why--? Oh Gohohohod!” His howls of laughter exploded out of him as he writhed on the floor, hands jerking as he struggled to not lean forward and hit Roman on reflex.

“I said no teasing!” Roman defended, calling out over Logan’s wild laughter. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t tickle! Thanks for the points, Logan!”

He wormed his fingers in between Logan’s toes, scratching his nails along the stems, and Logan’s screams heightened to shrieks. One hand went to fruitlessly cover his mouth, while the other started started banging on the floor in desperation.

Roman, to his credit, didn’t tease, but he also didn’t stop tickling him, even though Logan had definitely already lost this round. What’s more, he kept going for a long time, longer than he should’ve, and had the timer really not gone off yet--?

Logan turned his head, blinking the laughter-induced tears out of his eyes as he tried to focus on the others, but all he saw was Patton smiling down at Virgil as he played with his hair. His phone sat untouched beside him.

Logan made an affronted noise through his laughter, waving an arm around to get Patton’s attention.

“Pahahat-- Patton! Timeheher!”

Patton snapped up, looking at Logan with confusion before his expression became guilty.

“Oh, gosh, was I supposed to set the timer? I’m sorry, Logan, I totally forgot!”

Roman laughed out loud at this revelation, and eased up on the tickling until he was merely skimming Logan’s soles. Virgil sat up and gave Logan a taunting grin.

“Sucks to suck, Teach,” he drawled. “It’s not Patton’s fault you’re too ticklish for this game--”

Logan’s hand shot out to grab the abandoned die on the ground, and he threw it right at Virgil.

“Virgil’s turn.”

The die hit Virgil’s chest and bounced onto the floor in front of Patton, who swooped it up with a joyous grin.

“Oh, Virgil! Look what we got!” He flipped the die over to show Virgil, who glanced at the number before doing a double take.

“What? No!” he insisted with a shaky smile. “No, we didn’t roll the die, Logan did-- no!”

Patton ignored his protests in favor of throwing him on the floor, struggling to pin him with how hard he was thrashing.

“Time for your little button!” he cooed, wrestling Virgil onto his back and straddling his hips. “Time for your little button!”

Virgil choked out a laugh, batting Patton’s hands away. “St-- stohohop-- stop!” The two scrabbled for a moment, but Patton was too quick, and in a second his pointer finger was shoved directly into Virgil’s belly button, wiggling and scratching and vibrating all at once.

“Nahahahahahaha!”

Virgil couldn’t even form words as Patton tickled his worst spot relentlessly, not even giving him any buildup to prepare for the tickly sensations. 

“A ticky ticky ticky ticky!” Patton cooed, giggling along with Virgil’s desperation. “Aw, is someone a little ticklish here? Right here in this little tickle button?”

“I think those are screams, Patton,” Logan managed through his light laughter. “He needs to cackle, remember?”

Patton hummed. “Oh, you’re right, Logan!”

He shifted so he could shove his thumb into Virgil’s belly button instead, corkscrewing it in the small hole as his other four fingers scratched and squeezed at his hypersensitive stomach. Virgil gasped for air, and his wheezing shrieks shifted into undeniable cackles.

“And there it is,” Roman announced. “Two more points for Patton!”

“What are the scores again, Roman?” Patton asked over Virgil’s laughter. Roman paused, tapping his fingers against Logan’s feet as he thought.

“I don’t remember!” he admitted. The two lers stopped, looking at their giggly, blushy lees as they let them catch their breath, Logan was covering as much of his bright red face as he could, while Virgil had gone practically boneless on the floor.

Roman and Patton shared another look, before Patton gave him a deceptively sweet grin.

“Sudden death round?”

Logan and Virgil’s eyes snapped open.

“Do not--”

“Fuck, no--”

“Fantastic idea!” Roman replied cheerfully, grabbing the die and rolling it again. “That’s a 3!”

Both he and Patton abruptly changed positions, Patton shimmying down to reach Virgil’s knees again, while Roman crawled upwards to wrap his arms around Logan’s torso.

“Pat, no-- nohohoho!” Virgil’s protests fell into helpless laughter and squeals as Patton began scurrying his fingers all over his legs before honing in on that soft skin behind his knee.

“Roman, please do not touch me!” Logan threw his head back as Roman immediately targeted his highest ribs, pinning him with his weight as the normally stoic side gasped and let out a series of embarrassingly adorable noises at the torture.

After exactly one minute, they both pulled back in unison.

“My turn!” Patton snatched up the die and dropped it again. “That’s a 2!”

He pulled himself up to latch his hands around Virgil’s sides, squeezing them haphazardly as he leaned down to nibble around his belly button. Virgil weakly pushed aganst his head, but his high pitched giggles were sapping the strength from his body.

Roman hummed in thought. “I think I’m gonna go back down here!” He grabbed Logan’s ankle, and all it took was him fluttering his fingers against the ball of Logan’s foot before he, too, was a giggly mess.

Around and around and around they went-- a 1 led Patton back to Virgil’s neck while Roman attached himself to Logan’s hips, then a 5 had both sides on their stomachs as Roman scratched all over Logan’s back and Patton spidered his hands down the backs of Virgil’s thighs. At one point, they somehow managed to roll three 4s in a row, leading to what must have been truly unbearble tickle torture for the hypersensitive lees.

After many, many more rounds, they finally decided to have mercy and call the game. Virgil was long past fighting against his laughter, and was trying his hardest to not melt directly into the floor; Logan was panting heavily, his hands weakly balled up at his sides as the last of the adrenaline left his system.

“Well,” Roman said after a few minutes of recuperation, “thoughts on the game?”

“I liked it!” Patton chirped immediately, causing Virgil to snort.

“Of course you did,” he replied. “You’re not one of the ones who almost died.”

“Figuratively died,” Logan corrected. “But... I cannot say I didn’t enjoy it.”

Roman smirked, leaning over him and pinching his cheek. “Of course you enjoyed it! You never even safeworded, because you love it so much--”

Logan swatted his hand away, cheeks pinking anew. “Yes, yes, you bragadocious victor. I assure you, when we play again I will be better prepared.”

“Who got the most points, anyway?” Virgil asked, stopping the playful fight between the others. “Like, who was the winner?”

Of course Patton had to take the chance to pull them all into a hug as he exclaimed how they were all winners, but if they were being honest, not a single one of them could disagree.

[ravens-rambling]

Wingless Fae

A/N: this is a fic that i wrote at the beginning of this month but you all know what happened so uuhhh yeah, i just got around to editing this sorry! 

Soulmate September! by @tsshipmonth2020

100 (G/T) prompts!!! 

summary: Virgil is finally free after so long, he is free from that collector. And now he wants to see his soulmate. 

WC: 1,716

ships: Romantic Moxiety 

warnings: Mentions of torture, mentions of violence, self-doubt 

Tag List: @punsterterry @stormcrawler75 @frostedlover @mycatshuman @mutechild @panicattheeverywhere15 @overlord-winter @analogical-mess @saddestlittlebabe

~

Have to get away. Have to get away, now. He's finally free after so long, and he can't waste this opportunity. He has to run now before that human catches him again.

The tiny wingless fae ran as fast as his tiny tiny few inches short legs could carry him. He kept trying to jump into the air and fly, but alas...that monster of a human took his wings for his 'collection' and chose to torture him now that he's mostly defenseless. Which was right. Without a faes wings...they are practically defenseless. Most of their magic is in their wings and it transfers to their spine and then their body. But since he doesn't have his wings anymore… he can't do magic. And he can't fly.

Virgil wasn't even sure how he got out, it was such a blur that he can barely remember anything. He thinks he...was able to dose the human with the sleeping injection somehow… He didn't think it would be enough to do much to a human but he guessed he was wrong. That must've been some powerful stuff for sure then… it might've been enough to kill his tiny body.

That human is a monster, he kept him trapped in a glass cage for...years. The only time he was ever let out was for experimenting and that was...it. He took his wings when he first captured him, and he was forced to stare at his wings and other fae wings up on the wall behind a glass sheet. And he didn't want to know what happened to the other faes, considering that there wasn't anyone else in that entire house…

Virgil was terrified, he knows at any time that human can wake up and follow his muddy footsteps. Course it'll be hard for him to follow, but if there's anything he knows is that humans are very determined to get what they want. And what they want is his body.

So, he continued running and running. He wasn't stopping for a single second as he crashed through the branches and bushes. Come on… come on…

That's when he heard something, an all too familiar ribbit noise. He stopped dead in his tracks and he panted as he looked around the swamp. His eyes landed on a ghosty white form of a frog that's bigger then himself coming towards him. There was a faint mix of purple and pale blue inside of this ghostly white form. He was almost transparent but not... completely. And his froggy eyes stared down at Virgil as if asking for a ride. Well, of course, Virgil isn't going to say no to that.

"Take me to my soulmate. Please?"

He petted the frog's chest, and suddenly he had a frogs long tongue around his skinny and frail body. Virgil yelped but held on to his tongue before he was placed on the frogs back and the ghostly frog started hopping away into the swamp.

Since he was a young fae he's known his soulmates animal is a frog. It appeared to him one rough night when he just stayed up crying until he fell asleep. The frog hopped through his open window and landed on his bed. He was about to scream in shock, but he stared at the frog. And he found a sense of...calmness almost immediately. A sense of...peacefulness, happiness. And ever since then whenever he's had a really rough day the frog would hop over and he would get that same exact feeling over and over again. And it was his lifesaver once he got captured by that human. It was the only thing keeping him going. So he knew that his soulmate was a very calming but joyful person. Which made his heart soar, but also worry him. Would he bring down his mate cause of his constant worries?! He didn't know and he guessed he was about to find out.

Another thing, however, was that this frog can't interact with anything physically other than himself or his mate. So the glass cell that the human kept him in? He could only faze through it, but he couldn't faze Virgil through it. For some...strange reason? He figured it was probably some special glass to hold on faes and to make sure their soulmate animal couldn't get through. Which would make a lot of sense?

But… now he was about to meet his joyful and happy soulmate. And he's terrified. All he's wearing right now is rags. He's a wingless, defenseless, fae. And he's so skinny and frail that he probably looks like a speck of dirt right now. What a great first impression this will be.

The frog continued hopping along until he reached a small village, well...at least this doesn't look that bad… oh, nope… there are humans… of fucking course there are humans here. He had tears in his eyes while he was gripping onto the frog tightly and ducking down. Dammit… don't tell him his mate is a human?! Who hates him in the fucking world?! Seriously… who hates him, there has to be someone!

It could be any other creature, a vampire… A werewolf maybe! Even a cat person he'll take! But a human?! This is going to be bad, he knows he's going to be horrible…

The frog led him between houses and across roads, luckily it was much later in the day so most of everyone was already inside having dinner. And yep, he could smell food drifting from these houses windows. And it made his stomach growl hungrily. He doesn't... remember the last time he's eaten something solid… and that wasn't drugged. It smelt so fantastic… but he shook his head and continued to focus on the task at hand.

The frog continued hopping his way down the village, and he wondered where exactly he was taking him. Until...the frog came upon this rather large house, it was almost the size of a mansion. And he could tell it was one of the fanciest houses he's seen other than the king's palace of course. Before Virgil could make a noise the frog hopped up to the window. It made a loud croak to signal it's arrival and someone with a blue cape turned.

This man...okay, he was really super cute. He had pale tan really curly hair that laid on his shoulders. And he thinks he could see a little man bun on the back of his thick hair. His face is chubby and he had round cheeks. And on those cheeks were freckles sprayed throughout his face. And he had the most gorgeous bluest eyes in the entire world. It reminded him of a clear sky during the middle of the day… and that nose… it was so round and adorable. He was short, and a chubby in his stomach and arms. But, stars up above… this man was so frickin cute that it made Virgil's heart beat rapidly.

There was a child on the bed, a human child, and she reached up to tug on this man's arm. "Mister… you were saying something?"

"Ah, yes, try not to eat anything solid for a few days so your stomach can heal. Only drink liquids and make sure you stay with your mama in case you faint again, okay? Try to stay out of the direct sunlight and stay indoors the best you can." Now Virgil understood why he got that sense of calmness and happiness. This man's voice just radiated that as he spoke to the child.

"Okay! Thank you, Mr. Baker!" She giggled and hopped down, then she ran off past some curtain into another room, probably where her mother is.

"Are you...a healer?" That's your most important question, huh Virgil?

"Well...I'm a magician… but I specialize in healing magic. So I guess you could say I'm the village healer. Are you… you're a fae… and your riding… on my soulmate frog… does that mean you're my soulmate?"

"I…. I guess so?"

This Mr. Baker drew in a shaky sob and he looked ready to start crying. He shakily stepped forward to the window sill and had a wobbly smile on his cute face. "I finally...get to meet you face to face… after all these years… and oh… your hurt! And filthy! And… wait a moment… why are you in rags? And… doesn't have wings?"

Oh...here comes that major questions, Virgil wondered how long it was going to take before he mentioned it. "I… The reason why our frog couldn't get me was that… I was trapped...by a collector… He took my wings and kept me trapped for...years… I'm… I'm sorry, I'm probably not the best soulmate you could've asked for. I'm nothing… I don't got a home, or family… I don't even have magic anymore. And I can't fly. I can't… I'm the most useless awful fae ever...a disgrace… and I won't blame you if you say you don't want me as your mate…"

"Are…. Are you kidding me?!" This man gasped out and he immediately shook his head. "True… I wasn't expecting my mate to be a fae but… I don't care that you can't fly or have nothing. I don't care about that. I only care about you and your safety. Oh…. Your so filthy and….dirty and… oh, is those cut-up rags your wearing?!" He gasped with a shaky sob and he disappeared down the long hallway. He came back with a small dark purple jacket and some black pants. "I have this...once you take a bath?"

"It's... perfect… By the way… I didn't quite catch your name? I'm Virgil…"

"oh! Where are my manners! I'm Patton! It's such a pleasure to meet you, my soulmate. And don't you worry, I'm going to protect you from now on. No more collectors or pain, okay? You will be safe here, I can promise you that. It's so great to finally meet you… I'm so sorry I didn't come to save you… if I had known…"

Virgil shook his head, "It's okay… I'm okay now, that's all that matters. And I'm finally here...with you. Now… uh...where's that shower? I could really use one right now. You have a nice name, Patton."

"Right this way! Thank you! And Virgil is a gorgeous name too!!"

[gumnut-logic]

The Seal

This one is for @the-lady-razorsharp​ because she posted this post and this is the result. Also, more blame belongs with @godsliltippy​ because it was in her fic that seal!Gordon was born.

You guys are influencers and things like this happen. ::hugs you both::

Many thanks to @vegetacide​ for the read through and encouragement :D

Marks & Wings, a little language from our usually cool and calm heavy lifter, but his patience was shot, so I don’t blame him.

A little fun. I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

Okay, there were limits.

Sure, Virgil had been terrified that he had again lost his fish brother. The guy had done it before, and yet he still managed to do it again. Though admittedly, this time it was in Antarctica amongst the snow and ice and Gordon was obviously going for variety.

And sure, it had been because of a rescue. A successful rescue, one that saved the lives of three researchers.

Three researchers that Virgil was on the verge of killing, but hey, they were alive for the moment.

The ice had collapsed and Gordon had been standing on it. His brother couldn’t fly, so he did the next best thing to survive in the frigid cold waters he had fallen into, and he had changed.

Midair.

In front of three aghast survivors who shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

One of which had the nerve to get out their phone and film Gordon as he risked his life to save them.

Two had them dangling below, thanks to Gordon’s efficiency, and Virgil was able to yank them up into his ‘bird’s belly, despite the howling winds.

But his brother had vanished into the maelstrom of the Southern Ocean, last seen as a seal.

The frustrating thing about Gordon was that his body could not support a tracker. Whatever happened to his clothing when he shifted, any tracker in his body went with it.

Great for modesty.

Bad for locating missing brothers.

And if that rescuee complained about his phone one more time, Virgil was going to do something he wouldn’t regret.

The device was toast. Eos had obliterated it the moment she realised there was video being taken of the shape changing Tracy. His AI niece was efficient and the cell was now no more than a smouldering lump on the deck plates.

She would be on high alert patrol until Penelope could get her hands on the trio and stamp out any rumours they may choose to start.

Virgil took some great reassurance from that fact.

But Gordon had vanished from sensors and Virgil’s own sense of his brother was vague due to his shift in form.

Fortunately, seals were mammals so he was receiving much more than he would be if Gordon had turned himself into a crab or cephalopod. But still it was frustrating.

“So, what is he?” Phoneless rescuee was a bonafide asshole.

Virgil grit his teeth and ignored him.

Antarctic winds were a bitch and despite Two fighting like a champ, he was still having trouble keeping her at a safe hover. “John, tell me you have something.”

“I’m trying, Virgil, but cold is cold and infrared can only do so much.” His space brother was delving into Two’s equipment and focussing the power of Five through her instruments. The best thing Virgil could do right now was hold her still.

Virgil bit back a snarl of frustration. Every cell in his body wanted to go down there and fish his brother out of the ocean, but Two couldn’t be left to herself and visibility was shit.

“Is he a changeling?”

Virgil tasted blood as his teeth bit through his lip.

Gordon, if you can hear me, please!

There was a flicker of something, but it was hard to localise amongst the roar of Two, the howling wind outside and the windbag inside…

“Shut the fuck up!”

Okay, so Grandma would probably scrub his mouth out with a toilet brush, but it got results.

Windbag grunted and, fortunately for him, did as he was told.

A particularly strong gust whacked Two sideways and Virgil was forced to gain height or risk colliding with the leading edge of the glacier.

“John…”

The single hiss over comms was only a hint of the wave of worry that washed down from orbit.

But then….

“Got him!”

Location coordinates flashed up on Virgil’s dash and a holographic representation of a single dot swimming in an infinity loop at the surface of the ocean.

A bent infinity loop.

No, the number four.

Heart in his throat, Virgil lowered Two closer to the water.

It spat up at him, angered by the gale.

The glacier loomed.

As close to the waves as he dared, Virgil opened Two’s bay doors and lowered the rescue rig into the water.

The loop stopped and swam over to the tossed rig.

A flicker and his sense of Gordon reasserted itself as his brother changed form.

“Up.” It was breathless on comms and Virgil hurried to comply.

The wind fought him and Two dipped sideways again.

One of the rescuees squawked behind him.

Windbag swore.

Virgil’s grip on the yoke removed all the blood from his hands.

But Two was as strong as he needed her to be and she drew the rescue rig inside.

The moment he had it secured, Virgil pulled back on the yoke and Two climbed above the weather as fast as he could get her there.

The sudden absence of turbulence was peaceful. A creeping silence.

Virgil shoved her into autopilot, secured the console and despite the protests of windbag, was out of his seat and hurrying down into the module between breaths.

He didn’t need to see the seal to know his brother had transformed back into the pinniped, probably to conserve heat until the module warmed up, but it was always a surprise to encounter Gordon in another of his forms.

If Virgil’s heart wasn’t still beating a mile a minute, he could have called his brother cute.

Virgil didn’t know enough to identify the type of seal Gordon had chosen this time, only that it was a fat one, a dark mottled brown and rolling on Two’s deck plates like a beached whale.

Warm eyes glared up at him as he approached. The one aspect that seemed to survive his brother’s transformation was his eyes. They were always carnelian, always so Gordon they reached into Virgil’s insides and just yanked.

“Hey, you okay?” He visually combed the length of his brother’s seal body, but could not see any obvious injury.

The seal bounced its head up and down slowly.

“Cold?”

Another bounce. Gordon slid over and rubbed up against his leg.

And finally, relief flooded Virgil’s system. Oh, thank god.

A flickering echo of that same emotion wafted down from orbit as Virgil knelt and wrapped his arms around his still damp and cold brother. The chill coming off the seal was ice.

No wonder his brother had switched back as soon as possible.

He couldn’t help but rub a hand down his brother’s back.

Gordon chirped at him and wearily flapped a flipper.

Virgil pulled back with a frown. The sense being thrown at him was one of hunger.

“You’re kidding.”

Gordon smacked his lips together. Seals had puppy dog eyes, but these were definitely Gordon’s.

“You know we only have ration bars aboard. Not exactly seal cuisine.” Hell, he wasn’t even sure they were compatible with a pinniped’s digestive system.

Gordon squawked at him all seal teeth and tongue. “ARFGFJFJFHHGGJH!!!”

Virgil scampered backwards, as always, never quite sure exactly how much Gordon’s form influenced his brother’s thoughts. “Don’t arjfjfjejdjfjfggh at me, mister. I’m not the one who forgot to stock Two with sardines.”

Gordon wilted and dropped his head onto Virgil’s knee.

The puppy seal eyes deployed were downright lethal.

Virgil groaned. “Fine. We’ll pick up takeout from The Crab Shack on the way back.” The seal immediately perked up. “And yes, you can get your favourite. I’ll contact them on the way in.” The Auckland eatery knew them well.

Mostly their fish brother’s fault.

Gordon managed a tired but goofy grin.

Virgil sighed, but couldn’t help but reach up and rub at his scruff.

And the laugh that burst out when Gordon whacked a flipper repeatedly on the floor like a dog enjoying himself far too much was one of so much fond love, it almost had tears in it.

Goofball.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[diary-of-deadweight]

Sanders sides headcannon: The reader steals Virgil’s jacket.

Ever since meeting Virgil there was one thing about him that you were extremely envious of not having...

His BOMB ASS jackets MY DUDE!!

It didn’t matter which you just wanted both of ‘em damn it!!

Why? Because they be looking comfortably cosy.

You assumed that even Virgil himself knew of your supposed infatuation over his jackets because whenever he would catch you in the act of looking at it, he would have his signature half smirk upon his lips as his eyes flashed with silent smugness before turning back to the others, halfheartedly listening to their shenanigans.

So when he was least expecting it. You nicked a jacket, more specifically the pre accepting anxiety jacket with the dark checkered pattern and fleece inside.

It was the first one you were wholeheartedly envious over, not that you’d tell anyone since you weren’t the most discrete person alive that even naive Patton could’ve noticed.

So here you were, sat upon the couch in Virgil’s jacket, watching Steven universe, having a relatively peaceful morning until...

“Where the fuck is my jacket?” Came from upstairs out of the mouth of one Virgil Sanders.

Shit. You didn’t think he would notice so quickly but then again he had to be the most vigilant and observant side you’ve met to date. It was impressive actually.

You paused the episode in order to hear the commotion clearer as the sound of pacing footsteps could be heard along with the sounds of things being moved aside as you wrapped the jacket tighter around your frame, inhaling it’s neutral scents of candy corn, pine and old musk that eased your nerves somewhat.

You were starting to think this was a horrendous idea and that you should just give it back to him while you can by making up some bullshit lie that’d make deciet smirk about it being left lying around which you could 100% guarantee wouldn’t work on him but it was worth a shot to rid the guilt that was currently eating away at you at an agonisingly slow pace.

“Hey (y/n)?” Virgil’s voice from the upstairs landing drew you from your thoughts. “Yeah V?” You called back, trying to keep a clam facade.

“Is my jacket down there by any chance, it just... I could’ve sworn it was in my room earlier.” You stayed silent for a little while before shuffling things in a nearby radius and putting them back down again as to emulate the idea of you looking around the room for the jacket that was sitting snuggly around your being in order to hopefully get Virgil off your scent by leading him down a fake one.

“Yeah it’s here on the couch, you must’ve left it there after movie night or something.” You frantically stripped yourself of the jacket, tossing it to the farthest side of the couch and just in time as Virgil frantically ran down the stairs, letting out a sigh of relief when he was the familiar checkered black article of clothing.

He picked it up only to furrow his brows in suspicion...why was it so warm when it was supposedly left overnight...it should be freezing cold...a lightbulb went off inside his head as two and two came together, trying to console his smirk to remain in a frown as he then said, “fella warm...almost as if someone has just recently worn it and tossed it aside as to not be under suspicion.”

You felt your muscles instantly tense up as a singular bead of sweat raced down your temple whilst trying to remain calm and unaffected. “Huh, that’s weird.”

The anxious male raised an brow at the sound of your robotic tone, the only tone that should be coming out of Logan’s mouth not yours.

He could also sense the overwhelming panic that hung over your head like a thunder cloud.

What also gave away the fact that you worn it was not only was it warm but it had an significantly different scent of (whatever spray/perfume/etc you spritz yourself with) that mingled with the fading scents of candy corn, pine and musk.

So as to not put you under the spotlight any longer he just headed back over to the staircase, not before turning to you and saying, “thanks for finding it.” With a knowing wink at the end, leaving you red faced and embarrassed.

Were you gonna stop stealing his jackets?

Nope, if anything this just made you wanna steal them more often now that he was in the know and didn’t seem to mind it since he thought they actually looked pretty cute on you.

[the-enby-doughnut]

Of Secrets And Soulmates

Chapter 4 Part 2: we get to see Vee and Patt now!!

TW: Panic Attacks, Crying, Concern For Romans well being, all in all just angst with a tiny amount of comfort these - ___- indicate writing in this chapter

Logans POV: As soon as Roman conked out Logan sat down heavily in the chair next to him. “This is all my fault Em, My fault. can I- oh fuck Im going to regret this- can I have a pen?”

“It's not your fault Lo; you don’t control Ari sweetie,” Emile said, handing him a sharpie and kissing his forehead.

“I’m going to go find Remy; we’ll need to distract your parents for a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah o-ok,” Logan responded shakily. The first letters he tried to write (I’m) came out smudged and shaky and quite unreadable, he still got a response though. -Hi 4, call us? Your hands seem too shaky to write anything…- was scrawled messily in purple before light blue wrote back - ***-***-****, ***-***-**** <3- He grabbed his phone and stepped into the hall, then dialed while sinking back against the wall. After 1 ring he saw a guy with bright purple bangs show up on screen, and after 2 a cute guy with blonde curly hair and glasses appeared.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t-” he choked out before Purple interrupted.

“Name 5 things you see.”

“Door, y-you, the- the wall, my hands, a-and um Blue?”

“Good, 4 things that you can touch, they don’t necessarily need to be touching you.”

“Wa-wall, clothes, door, phone?”

“Now 3 things you can hear.”

“You, my heartbeat, Ro-Roman snoring.”

“Ok 2 things you can smell?”

“Lavender and must….”

“Great one thing you can taste?”

“Citrus I think?”

“Feel better?” Blue asked softly.

“Yeah, how did you guys know that?”

“I have an anxiety disorder, I know these things,” Purple replied.

“Oh… I’m still- I’m still sorry.”

“What for kiddo?”

“I- Roman got- roman got really really fucking hurt and its all- its all my fault…” Blue stared at him.

“Did you decide to hurt him?”

“NO, hell no I- someone I’m acquainted with used him- used him to get to- to get to me and-”

“It’s not your fault 4”

“Yes it is- Roman could’ve died and it would have been my fault.” Purple stared.

“Roman Could’ve DIED!?!?”

“Yes…. I- I can’t explain over the phone,” Logan sighed.

“Could I- could I pick you up? I- I just really think that you deserve to know- to know everything and I can’t explain on here and-”

“4 hun your spiraling”

“Oh, huh, but um I would really like to pick you up, with your consent of course?”

“How?” Purple asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I have… connections.”

“Fine.”

“Ok!”

He watched two addresses and states get sprawled across his arm and hung up the call.

He went to Blue’s first, and he carefully knocked on the door. He heard shuffling and the door was opened. “Hi…” Logan said softly, his entire body shaking and on the verge of collapse.

“Hey, Look at me ok?” Logan looked towards Blue, who was way shorter than him. “D’you want a hug Lo?”

Logan recoiled, “I never told you my name, Blue.”

“Oops? Lo, Roman figured out you were our last soulmate the day you met…. He saw the patch covering the heart I drew and you hesitated so he just figured it out. Oh and my name’s Patton!”

“Why- why didn’t he tell me?”

“He didn’t want you to leave; you have to have had your reasons not to talk to us, and he wanted to respect that.”

“Oh….”

“Honey come here, I think you need a hug.”

Logan all but collapsed into Patton's arms. Patton held Logan murmuring reassurances, and once Logan could stand properly again he insisted they go get Purple.

The Faery Circle confused Patton, but they kept on walking to Purple’s house. Purple opened the door before they knocked and said, “You’re not human are you Logan?” Logan looked down and shook his head no.

“What are you then?” Patton questioned.

“I’m a fae… i’m sorry…”

“Can you stop apologizing for existing Logan?” Purple mused.

“I’m not- I can’t not apologize, I have to be good, I can’t do bad.”

“Why?” Patton asked.

“I just- agh I have to be perfect,” Logan groaned.

“Lo you’re a person, it's pretty much impossible to be perfect. We’ll sure as hell like you anyways, Roman definitely does,” Purple said

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain.”

Logan just shook his head and sighed, grabbing Patton and Purple's hands.“I’m not supposed to even be talking to you. Understand that as much as I want to tell you, I can’t. I’m doing this for Roman because I don’t deserve your trust or help but he does, so let’s go.”

“Logan, that’s insane. You deserve our trust, and I’m not going to say I understand why you think that you don’t or why you didn’t talk to us, but we care,” Patton said, squeezing his hand.

“I have to agree with Pat here Lo. You deserve our trust because you’re not a bad person. Clearly, you care. We’re going to be here, even if you- if you leave again, we’ll still be here for you,” Purple said, tilting Logan’s face to look at him.

“Virgil’s right; we won’t abandon you, and we’re not going anywhere – well, except wherever you’re taking us,” Patton said, laughing. Logan quickly filed away that Purple's name was Virgil. They walked faster with Virgil there, which Logan was quite grateful for. As soon as they got through the faery circle Virgil started questioning things.

“You live in a castle Logan?! Also, I don’t care if you drop that illusion of humanity.”

“Yes, I live in a castle, and I kept the illusion up for your comfort, so as long as Patton has no qualms with me dropping the illusion, I’ll happily do so,” Logan stated simply.

“I’m fine with that Lo-Lo!” Logan let the illusion shimmer away from him, and he heard two identical gasps.

Virgil’s POV: When his hidden soulmate contacted, Virgil was immediately concerned, and then he said Roman was hurt. Like really badly hurt – bad enough that he wanted to pick them up. This soulmate also seemed to have a shit ton of confidence and trust issues. Virgil agreed to Logan coming of course, but he was still apprehensive about giving his address.

When Logan got there with Patton, the first thing he noticed was how hard Logan was shaking. He also noticed that Lo should not have gotten there so fast.

What he managed to figure out was that Logan was not human, he was a fae, and he thought he had to be perfect. Virgil disagreed, perfection was a societal concept rich people made so they could look down on everybody, especially different races and religions. Logan thought that he and Pat hated him which was drastically wrong; they had missed him for years but never hated him.

He managed to get them moving, and when they shimmered into existence in Logan’s world they were greeted with a castle – a fucking castle. When Logan dropped the stupid illusion though, he was surprised.

@emy-loves-you, @vann-cat , @icantthinkofacreativeurl , @psychedelicships, @remus-sanders-is-the-bestest , @vixdoesbadart, @little-chaos-bitch , @chowa-san @denkisimp47

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 5)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 My Master Post

Emile hummed a quick tune as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot near his apartment. He’d just finished his last session of the day with Kai and Remy had asked that he watch Virgil this evening after work and possibly this weekend, so Emile was picking up something to cook for dinner before heading over there. He was going to grab ingredients to make Virgil’s favorite dinner, spaghetti and meatballs (well his actual favorite dinner was pineapple pizza from the local pizza joint, but Emile wanted to serve the boy something at least somewhat healthy for once in his life.)

That in mind, he went straight to the pasta aisle. While contemplating which of the spaghetti noodles he should grab, he noticed a man with a cart also perusing the aisle. He glanced at the contents of the man’s cart. “That’s a lot of cheese there friendo,” he commented.

“I’m trying to make homemade macaroni and cheese,” the man divulged with a smile.

“That’s always fun,” Emile replied, smiling back himself.

“I’ve never done it before. Do you have any suggestions for noodles?”

“Hmm… how about shell ones?”

“Ooo, like the boxed Velveeta shell macaroni, but better!” He enthused. “Aw! They have mini ones!” He snatched the box excitedly. “They’re so cute!”

“They are,” Emile agreed as he finally selected the whole wheat store brand spaghetti and slid it into his cart.

“Thanks for the suggestion! Have a nice day,” the man said and turned to leave.

“Bye!” Emile called after him.

He then continued on his quest, grabbing pasta sauce and a lot of fresh vegetables to sneak into the canned sauce as well as to leave in his brother’s home with the hopes that either his brother or his nephew might actually eat something healthy for once if it was right there. (Doubtful, but Emile could hope.)

He then spent an inordinate amount of time, debating which popcorn to get. Emile was thinking tonight would be a good night for movies with Virgil, and Virgil’s favorite snack was popcorn. He really should get the less buttery one, but he knew that Virgil liked buttery popcorn more. Perhaps he should compromise and get plain popcorn, but that one healthier ranch flavored powder topping that he liked. Decided, he grabbed the popcorn and the topping and went to exit the snack food aisle. “Hey,” a man with a mustache drew his attention away from his task. “My friend lost his little brother in the store. Have you seen a younger teenager walking alone around here? We think he might have gone to the snack food aisle.

Emile frowned. “Nope I haven’t seen anyone. I hope you find him soon.”

 “Thanks,” the man said already distracted with looking around again.

“Maybe try the front desk,” Emile suggested. “They could call over the intercom.”

“My brother’s already there,” the man replied waiving the suggestion off. “But thanks.”

“Well good luck!” Emile said as the man walked away towards the back of the store.

Gee, it took him almost 40 minutes to get groceries, he realized when he glanced at his phone in the checkout aisle. He shouldn’t let himself get that distracted.

Once he’d paid for the groceries, he took everything to his car and shoved them in the backseat. Right as he was about to stick the key in the ignition, he got a text message from his secretary.

‘Kai forgot his phone in your couch again, but your office is locked. Are you able to swing by really quick to let him in?’

He texted back ‘Sure! I’ll be there in 5.’ He wasn’t going to keep Kai away from his phone for the night and it wasn’t like the groceries he’d grabbed were extremely time sensitive. So, he drove back to the office.

Kai seemed thankful for his willingness to drive all the way back even if his ‘thank you’ was rather distracted as he was already typing something on his phone the moment after Emile handed it back to him.

He said goodbye to Kai and to his secretary and hopped back into his car intending to drive to Remy’s house. He’d just started the car when his phone started to ring.

“Yello,” he said cheerfully.

“Emile,” the serious voice greeted on the other end of the line. “This is Logan Sanders.”

Emile sobered immediately. “Hi Logan. Is something wrong? Do you have a patient for me?”

“No, actually,” Logan said. “It’s… about your brother.”

Emile froze. “What about my brother?” he asked. “Remy is on light duty.”

“He was yes,” Logan said. “However, there was a complication.”

“What type of complication?” Emile said and a bit of anger came to his tone unbidden.

“He was specifically targeted,” Logan said, and despite the calm way he spoke, Emile could detect the distress in his tone. “I’m very sorry, but he’s dead.”

“Oh, god. What about Virgil?”

“That’s the other thing,” Logan continued. “As soon as I heard of Mr. Gates death, I dispatched an agent to his home for protection, but when he arrived, his son was not there. There were signs of a break-in, but the perpetrator’s car was still there, and my agent believes Virgil fled the scene and was followed on foot. My agent is currently searching for him…”

“There’s a ‘but,’” Emile concluded.

There was a slight pause, just enough to tell Emile he wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he was pretending to be. “I haven’t heard from that specific agent in over half an hour.”

“Okay,” Emile gulped, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. There were hundreds of explanations for that, but many of them were bad. “Okay. I’ll go look myself since I know him and where he might go. I’ll,” his voice cracked a bit. “Call you if I find anything.”

“Alright, and I’ll…” but whatever Logan was going to say was lost as a hand touched Emile’s shoulder.

Emile screamed and tossed his phone as he accidently slammed his elbow into the car horn making it blare.

“Calm down! It’s just me,” said a voice.

“Frickin Frozone shitake mushrooms terrible tigger fish paste and cabbages, Remington!”

“You could curse like a normal person, Emile.”

“And you could not break into my car like a normal person,” Emile shot back turning around in his seat to face his older brother. “I’ll presume you’re not dead then.”

“Aw, were you worried about me?” he asked.

Violence is never the answer. At least that’s what he told his patients. Emile punched his shoulder the best he could from this angle. It clearly didn’t hit too hard as Remy just laughed.

“Sorry, Em,” he said reaching forward to ruffle his hair. Emile slapped him away.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Mega Bitch Ex decided she wanted me shot in the head and I decided I didn’t want that.”

“What does that mean?” Emile asked.

“It means,” Remy answered. “I faked my own death and while she thought I was dead,” he dug something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of him. It was a flash drive. “I stole this.”

“What is it?”

“Super-secret spy business.”

“Remy.”

“All that matters is she really shouldn’t have it and Logan will be very happy I got it away from her.”

“Speaking of Logan…” Emile had dropped his phone when Remy had surprised him, and the call had ended. He picked up the phone. “I should call him back.”

The phone was slapped out of his hand the second his picked it up.

“What the kriffing kriff Remy?”

“Please just say fuck. I beg of you,” Remy groaned. The phone starting ringing again from its place on the floor. Doubtlessly it was Logan since the last thing he’d heard was Emile screaming like he was being murdered.

“I need to answer that, Remy,” Emile said with a frown.

“You can’t. It’s too risky.”

“You literally just said you stole it for Logan. Why can’t I just answer the phone, say Remy’s fine actually, and he has a super-secret spy flash drive to give to you?”

“Because you don’t say shit like that over the telephone,” Remy told him while starting to wiggle his way into the front seat. “We’re going to take this thing to Logan in person and no one can know I’m alive until then.”

“I know you’re alive,” Emile pointed out.

Remy grabbed Emile’s phone when it stopped ringing and hit the power button to turn it off. He stuck it into his pocket. “Family doesn’t count,” Remy said. “…Also, I needed a ride.”

“Are you really going to keep my phone hostage this whole time and also what happened to your car?”

“It… uh… blew up,” Remy said. Emile stared at him blankly. “Yeah… so, anyway.”

“What do you mean it blew up?” Emile asked.

“I said ‘anyway.’”

“Saying ‘anyway’ doesn’t mean I just magically forget what you just said.”

Remy waved that off. “Anyway,” he said again. “We’ll have to pick up Virgil and … do something with him. I’m not leaving him home alone during this.”

“Right. I assume since you’re not dead that Virgil isn’t actually missing,” Emile concluded.

But instead of agreeing and telling Emile where Virgil was to go pick him up, there was silence. “Virgil is what?”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 6

[lux-talks-a-lot]

New Episode Reactions!!! Pt 1

AHHH, I have so many feelings ya'll!! This episode was so awesome and the art was absoulty suberp! Thomas and the whole crew worked so hard to get this out and it really paid off! I just wanted to run through all the amazing things in this ep now that I've watched it once!

I'm warning you now this is mostly just me gushing about amazing and great everything is because it's very amazing and great! Strap in for spoiler central!!!

First of all the thumbnail is just amazing

Starting off with Thomas being incredibly relatble and awkward, we love to see it!

ROMAN!!!!

VIRGIL!!!!!

I love that this confirms that the sides just pop up in Thomas's day to day life and bully him, it's great

Side notw: I love how the artists drew Thomas in this, he looks adorable

OMG prinxiety poping out the godamn clothing hanging thing to call thomas old makes me very happy

I love that this whole episode is Virgil and Roman bonding, it is fabulos.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT I LOVE YOU MEANS TO THEM?"

"You told me to say it!"

"STOP PLAYING YOU PEOPLE'S HEARTS THOMAS"

I love this so much

There is a whole lot of lying here but I have yet to spot a single snake boi :(

I know Jan had a whole thing last episode but like... I miss him :(((

HEART EYES ROMAN!!!!! BEING SO GODAMN DRAMATIC!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

"*long poetic description of feelings*"

"What?"

"*SIGH* Cutie at twelve-o-clock."

Prinxeity's dual calling of bullshit when Thomas says he's not interested

WHY IS ROMAN ME WHEN I SEE A CUTE GIRL IN PUBLIC

Virgil pulling fucking boniculars just out of nowhere

"He's got some stickers on his laptop."

"Pretty gay~" *finger gun*

Virgil laying down introvert laws on stickers is great and very true (in unrelated news, I need to buy more stickers for my laptop)

Nico's a disney fan too!!!!

I kind of love that it was the Nightmare Before Chrismas sticker that sealed the deal for them because it's something that's very Roman and also very Virgil

Also how can you not take that sticker as clear sign from the universe that this will end in roman and happily ever afters, I'm with Roman here (when am I not tho?)

"You can live like Jack and Sally..."

I don't why Virgil calling Roman doofus is so funny and dorky to me but it is and I love it. I want them to get along but I want to keep the banter and little insults that don't mean much

"Why forget your spectacles at the retirment home?"

"Those jokes are getting old..."

"You would know..."

I love the gentle bullying

YOU SEE SOME BUTTONS; YOU BUTTON IT!!!!!

PINTERVERTS!!!!

THIS IS WHY I LOVE SEEING THESE INTERACTING!!!!

Seeing Roman and Virgil with the head sets and mics really makes me want to like make a rodio hosts AU, they'd defintly be interesting pair to listen to. Oh! or like a podcast thing or something! I'd listen to it!

Also the backseat driving from prinxiety is great

"I'M NOT MAX! I'M PRINCE ROMAN -"

Also that godamn, you got five seconds thing gave ME anxciety

"great."

"great indeed."

"GREAT INDEED!"

boiled. mayo. carrots. what the heck thomas.

"The only logical next step. Go home and regret everything." Virge, buddy, pal, chill for like five seconds.

"No man!"

"Uh, it's RO-man. With an R? You're really struggling today."

Ro, buddy, pal, princey, never change.

"When it comes to anti-social etiquette, I'm a triple expert. An ex-ex-expert!"

"Easy tiger" This is flirting right? This is defintly flirting. They are flirting!

GAY EYES!!!!

Roman doing the gay eyes and the little noises AHHHH, I'm dying, i'm deceased, my ghost is writing this

Side note: I'm really tempted to become a patron just to see the live action version of this scene alone, imagine my friends, imagine

Gay eyes have never worked for me either

DISASTOR!

"No DO look at youself Thomas. Because that was a test and you failed!"

"You were testing me!?!?!"

"Oh no, I was just panicking."

I love them

I also love all of Virgil's instenseness in this episode because honestly very relatable to my own anxiety but also the art was just really great

 “If you don’t have anything nice to say... you’re a dirty lier.”

God the whole pretend you’re leaving was so funny and gave me such secondhand embrassement, it was so good

“I hate to rain on your black parade, Gerard Gay -”

I missed him and his nicknames SO MUCH

Virgil and Roman literally pulling Thomas around and making him sit and stand is just so funny to me. it’s like Roman and Logan fighting over control of Thomas’s arms

“You’re making a mistake!”

“If I am I’ll add it to the list!”

Oh. My heart. Roman, darling, no -

Again with the pushing, guys

This poor random passerby who got accosted by Thomas’s awkwardness. I hope they had a good day at the mall at least

THE TRASH CAN!!!!

I love that it’s not just Thomas in the trash can but all three of them

This is another scene I would LOVE to see live action

“You were being a baby about the buttons and the pins had you panicking.”

It’s nice to see Roman helping Thomas get clean in the bathroom

“He’s got birds on the brain! You don’t wanna wing it, Virge? Alright let’s drum up a plan!”

I love the puns but I love Roman trying to help Virge feel better about this more even tho they didn’t end up going with this

“It’s like cyber-stalking but real life”

“So... stalking”

“... OH YOU’RE RIGHT!”

Virgil, sweetie, you’re doing amazing

“Speaking from the heart” Patton, buddy, is that you?

THE MONOLOGUE!!!!

“The mall is where you go when you don’t know what you want because the mall has everything...”

Roman’s face at that line really killed me fam. He is going through some stuff, huh

Actually Roman’ and Virgil’s faces during the whole speech really killed me

OMG THE DUDE IN THE BATHROOM!!!!

All those theories about the next ep being Ro & Virge bonding through mutual dislike of Janus were sorta right

Also it’s interesting that Virgil is clearly talking about Janus but is still calling him Deciet

Also generally enjoying the calm Prinxeity team up and discussion for once

“No, he’s better off without me.”

AH no, thomas!

Damn I’m so used to Sides Angst the character thomas angst really hit me by the wayside

GAY PANIC

NICO!!!!!

“HE FEARS THINGS TOO!?”

THE GAY PANIC!!!!

“I THINK I SAW A LOT OF WIDE VOWELS?”

“NEVADA????”

“MORE THAN THAT!”

“ANACONDA?????”

“ANACONDA!!!!! HE’S A NIKKI MINHAJ FAN!!!!”

They are such disaster gays

Mishearing the guy and then instead of asking for a repeat, just going along with it is so terribly terribly relatable but god the second hand embrasment

“another chance at happiness squandered.”

break my heart why doncha ya

 The whole sequence of Virgil noticing Roman being so godamn sad and miserable and watching Nico walk away and his breathing speeding up and the wide eyed panic before he pushes thomas is literally my favorite part of the whole damn video! that wasn’t easy for him to do but he did it. for roman and thomas. so that didn’t squader another chance. he was so brave and i’m so proud of him

I really love Nico! He seems so chill and adorable and he took thomas’s flutered rambling so well! and he’s a writer!!! and he winked at thomas!!!

Mr. Florez!!!!

He’s writing a song!!!!!

The song explanation calling thomas out is kind of adorable

this whole meet cute is kind of adorable

“THAT WAS YOU?” “ARE YOU OKAY?”

brusied ego, aw does that mean Patton’s gonna be taking care of Ro like the last time Thomas got a brusied ego

MY SECOND FAVORITE PART OF THE VIDEO: Ro’s soft little “Shut up, emo” and the little hearts and his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and Virgil’s little smile at him and the whole calling Virge brave!!! It was all so so so good!!!!

End Card Time!!!!!

Thomas calling Roman a punk is adorable

Also Janus’s Corridor Of Stored Rewards!!! Amazing

Everyone coming back all excited and giddy really matched my own excitement and giddiness and I love it

LITERAL SCREAMS OF JOY

Virgil’s purple sparkly eyeshadow because he’s happy is so so pure and amazing and I kind of want to try out that look myself

“Thomas I’m gonna need you to walk around the entire room - yes thank you- that helps somehow”

even more things to project onto Virgil with, thank you

I haven’t seen Virgil smile this much in one episode before and it is really watering my crops, clearing my skin, rasing my grades, saving my whole ass year -

The dark eyeshadow returning at Thomas’s subtweet is great and very relatable

Virgil asking what is things are never the same again but with light eyeshadow and the clearly more hopeful outlook on things makes me so very happy

I love Roman being excited but like we don’t see virgil so giddy nearly as often and it’s just so heartwarming

Roman trying to get them to go to France on V-day and Virge actually going along with the idea!!!

Virgil telling Thomas to do the happy flappies!!!!

Virgil’s face at ‘are u ready for this’ kills me

But the deepening panic voice when the dog barks and his reaction to Ro telling him to relax was great

in summary: I though based on the title this was going to be the other sides flirting with Virgil and honestly I wasn’t that far off

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 32

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 9.779

Warnings: social anxiety, cursing, arguments, Virgil’s potty mouth (let me know if I missed any)

Summary:  Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him.  Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness.   Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Exciting things! @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2​ sent me a Christmas gift which I am too happy about and @sebthesnipe​ has consented to support us with the beta reading (and she is intimidatingly good. I am in awe. So thorough, but who’s surprised by that? Thank you so much!) Also there are new people on the Keep Him Safe Discord server, so feel free to come chat with us there. It’s a fun little place and I love everyone there! Invitation: https://discord.gg/Y2WNAND

Chapter 32

“Motherf- why do you insist on sitting there, you bristly beast from hell?” Roman wailed. 

For the third time, he had almost tripped over the raccoon cowering on the ground between the sofa and the corridor. He swore he had moved it aside – very carefully – with his foot. Twice. He had even bribed it to the kitchen with a few, strictly forbidden, snacks. There was no time for this! The ceremony – his ceremony – started in two hours and it would define his life, honor his entire career! It was-

“Ow! I will make a coat out of you! Or maybe even a fedora!” Roman swore, jumping on his unbitten foot. Gathering his courage, he snatched the monster around the fat middle and lifted the retching, gurgling critter high away from his body. His dearest Virgil would tame the gray and white monstrosity for him. If he would forgive him for almost throwing the thing at his face with a shrill screech.

“The fuck, man?!” Virgil yelped, catching the flying animal and immediately toppling over into Patton, who sat on the couch behind him during his attempt to wrangle the scratching raccoon that tried to swipe at his hands. True to Roman’s hopes, Virgil managed to roll it into the thick fabric of the blanket next to him and reduce it to a quivering ball of rage hissing in the general direction of the entire world. 

Feeling Virgil’s glare hot on his person, Roman hunched his shoulders. 

“Sorry?” 

Patton, sitting quietly with his wool and kitten in his lap, drew his limbs closer to his body. He was already dressed and ready to go, as always making sure he was free to help everyone else. 

After Roman’s split-second decision to attempt to save the thief, the results of his actions had taken a life of its own. His picture had been printed all over the local newspapers and had even made it to national television, though it was only a small feel-good piece after the news. He had been asked on actual interviews (which he had excelled at of course, charming as he was). Suddenly, people loved him. His pretty selfies were trending on Instagram and he even received actual handwritten fan-mail. Just yesterday, a small crowd of reporters had held him up on the way to the office, asking him questions and trying to get a good shot of his suddenly famous, and quite lovely, smile. 

For the first time, perhaps in his whole life, Roman felt truly confident. He didn’t have to pretend to believe he deserved the world - he felt like he’d already held it in his hands. His laughs were filled with joy and when he looked at the mirror, he liked what he saw. He would ruffle his bright curls, giggling at his reflection before he danced around the bathroom, using his brush as a microphone singing happily. There was no need to force a smile any longer. He liked himself. If he was truly honest, the reason wasn’t the attention of his adoring fans recognizing him on the street and wanting his autograph, or the reporters flushing at his sweet smiles and charming manners. No, that was all exciting – so exciting! – but it truly was the knowledge of being loved unconditionally by the people that really mattered. It was the atmosphere at home. It was the quiet, safe feeling of evenings spent together; the knowledge that he was important to someone. It was Patton standing on his tiptoes and hugging him when he got home. It was Logan lecturing him about his fluid intake. It was Virgil, blushing and grumpily hunching his shoulders when their eyes met; the way he almost smiled at him. 

The young man hadn’t taken his words back, despite Roman’s fear that he would. They hadn’t talked about the confession again, especially since Roman feared he would scare Virgil off, but something had notably changed. The barista was defensive of his reputation, growling and grumbling whenever someone so much as hinted at him needing help, but something in his demeanor towards Roman was different. Softer. 

As the young detective pondered a chance at something new with Virgil with an excitedly beating heart, he finished fixing his tie and promptly made a mess of it. Groaning, he threw his hands in the air dramatically. 

“This whole day shall end in disaster! It’s cursed! Fate has forsaken me!” 

Virgil groaned and climbed around the growling ball buried in the blankets. “Let me, you theater nerd.” He mumbled. 

Standing in front of him he was so much smaller than Roman. He could see the shadow his dark lashes cast on his moonlight pale cheeks. His hands were slender and nimble as they took hold of his mangled tie and pulled it from the taller man’s neck. Throwing it over his own shoulder, he leaned close to pull up the collar of the stark white dress shirt Roman still wore untucked, with his dark uniform slacks. The excitedly thundering heart slowed in the detective’s chest as Virgil drew closer. Obediently, he leaned his head forward to let the young man wrap the cool fabric around the back of his neck. God, he would let him do anything to him. He could not believe Virgil was here, voluntarily standing close. How he wanted to place his hands on the slender waist. The moment he had first laid eyes on him came back to him with such vivid clarity. The slim figure wrapped in stiff, cold leather; bruised, defensive and sharp toothed. He was still the most beautiful creature Roman had ever seen.  

A hushed silence fell over the apartment like a heavy blanket of snow. Virgil formed the loop and pulled the end of tie through with slow, deliberate movements. He never lifted his eye to the intense gaze, focused on him as if he were the only thing worth looking at. Only the flush rising to his cheeks gave any indication that he was affected at all.  

His pink lips were slightly parted. Roman couldn’t look away. He couldn’t recall a time where he felt so light as he did since Virgil had stepped close and spilled a rambling, confused confession from those lovely lips. Though he wouldn’t receive his award for a couple of hours, he already felt blessed beyond his wildest hopes by his sweet kitten. This was everything he had ever wanted.

As if hearing his sugary thoughts about him, Virgil tucked sharply at the tie, pulling it taunt. Choking a little, Roman fumbled to loosen the perfect knot. His wildcat flashed a sharp grin before ducking his head once again; his hands slipping down the sculpted chest and falling away, leaving a trail of heat. 

Warmth was also rising to Virgil’s cheeks as he remembered that Patton was huddled up right behind him. Well fuck, that was embarrassing. Perhaps he should just put his head in the oven right now. In the face of his fear of losing Roman, his own courage had completely steamrolled him and truth be told, he had no idea where to go from here. This whole feelings thing was a fucking dumpster fire. He blamed that bitch of a thief. 

Patton hadn’t noticed a thing, though. He was too busy leaning over the back of the couch, gaping at the man that was currently fussing over the shoulders of the freshly ironed uniform jacket he had put on a hanger. Logan, having finished dressing with plenty of time, had been forced to clean up after Roman; look for his white gloves, iron his uniform and hold the mirror for him to see the back of his head while he styled his curls. Now he’d entered the living room, dressed from head to toe in his pristine dress blues. The golden buttons and badge on his chest  gleamed, as well as the elaborately stitched symbol of his department on his arm. His slacks were pressed to perfection and accentuated his long legs. He was even already wearing his polished shoes and white gloves and a rat on his shoulder. He looked entirely too attractive. 

Virgil worried a little for Patton’s heart. Literally. He was growing quite red. 

Even if his barista decided to tease him later and he was getting a little anxious of being caught, Patton was not missing a moment of this. He’d thought he had grown used to living with men who were this- this- well, this put together and handsome and kind and intimidatingly in control of their lives, but then something happened and he was baffled again. He didn’t know how to prepare for it either. Virgil looking cute as heck in the morning, he could deal with, even when it made him want to hug him and almost climb into his lap with love- he could just do that. And Roman was always as attractive as a model, even when he was complaining or drinking cocoa in his fluffy slippers. His adorableness just made him look soft, even moments after he would startl Patton with his dramatic outbursts. There was no reason not to tell him how pretty he was every day. But Logan? Yesterday he’d irritably dashed through the apartment in a shirt and boxer briefs looking for his trousers that Roman had abducted. Patton had felt like his heart would stop at the sight. He couldn’t just jump at him like that with his long, naked legs and socks and all! And sometimes Logan would just sit next to him opening his mail and the light would fall on his face and Patton just… he just….

He didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d never felt something like this. Especially something so confusing. His feelings were a fluctuating mess. Just when he thought he was healing and managing not to wake up in a cold sweat every night, fighting the conflicting urges to dial Trevor’s number or run to Logan for protection from him, something like this unbalanced him. The problem was - it didn’t seem to want to go away, despite Patton’s growing confusion. The more Logan got comfortable, the more he showed his real personality. It was a development Patton had expected with absolute certainty, but he hadn’t thought the older man would change quite like this. He’d expected to see more of the sides that had frightened him in the past. The quick anger. The dominance. The physical violence he was capable of. The demand to control everything. He wasn’t blind to Logan’s flaws. He’d learned the hard way, after all. 

He wasn’t surprised to see those flaws now that the older man didn’t need to hide them anymore. After all, Patton had nowhere else to go. 

Logan had plans for everything and needed things to go his way. When they didn’t, he’d grow irritable and even angry. This morning, Roman had given him reason to grow furious with him by losing his gloves, putting everyone in a right state looking for them. There had been screaming and wailing (all by Roman), which had made Logan grow progressively more quiet and frustrated. Tension had settled in Patton’s chest quickly. Whenever someone was angry, it felt like something lodged itself in his throat and made it hard to breathe. It made Patton feel small and frightened and guilty, no matter what he did or hadn’t done himself. He always, always expected to be punished. 

Logan hadn’t hurt Roman though. 

Well, he had hurt him a little by grabbing the scruff of his neck despite his complains about his hair and depositing him on the couch. Without his loud interference, he’d found the gloves in less than ten minutes. 

Apparently oblivious to Patton’s fear, he had settled down next to his stressed partner and looked at him earnestly. 

“Everything you need is here, Roman. There is no need to be nervous. You deserve this.” 

Tension had fallen from his partner’s shoulders like a visible weight. Laughing bashfully, knowing now that the reason for his panic had turned out to be a kitten rolling up on his gloves, he scooted closer to his friend, shyly asking if he was still loved in his own way. 

Without hesitation, Logan had wrapped an arm around the broad shoulders and leaned their foreheads together in a moment of quiet gentleness. Despite lecturing him about their timetable he had still ironed Roman’s jacket and de-furred the gloves before he’d finished dressing. 

Those moments - where Patton expected things to go wrong, when Roman became whiny and annoying and Virgil started growling with stress and Logan began showing signs of anger, or simply when he and Virgil started talking each other into a rage over the latest failure to protect minorities or the environment - they still frightened Patton. They would keep frightening him for a long time, he feared. He couldn’t help but be aware of the powder keg that was the suddenly too small apartment where four men lived together who were all very different from each other and tended to rub each other to irritation. 

Virgil was still defensive of Patton and his pride, and recently his claim on Roman. Roman was his own very special person who needed encouragement and attention and occasionally sugar followed by a hug. And Logan… well, he just needed things to work, be tidy and on time; which they never, ever were. Little conflicts were impossible to avoid, and Patton feared them turning into hurtful fights. 

They never did. 

Still, every time, Patton expected the blame to fall on him for being incompetent, or forgetting something, or making their situation more difficult by being there and needing space, by being in the way or simply getting in the way of Virgil’s grumpy insults or Roman’s flailing complaints or Logan’s growling lectures. 

It certainly hadn’t helped that they were all a little tired after Professor Duke had rung the doorbell at four thirty this morning and had demanded they join his marching band. He’d been banging pans against each other. Logan had given him a cookie and told him to sleep before shoving him into the corridor a little harder than strictly necessary.

Patton couldn’t understand why no one was arguing with him, especially considering how stressful the time of Roman’s heroics had been. He wasn’t easy to live with, he knew that. He said silly things, or his presence became annoying, or he didn’t perform as he should – and recently, he hadn’t been performing at all. He had just been here, useless and waiting for something bad to happen. The longer he’d been sitting around doing nothing, the worse his anxiety became. He was starting to understand that he needed to get back to the café. His ankle was healed enough and his hands were almost like new. Even his bruises were barely visible anymore. He needed to make himself useful. Perhaps it would help to have something else to focus on. Something less hopeful and less likely to break his heart. 

His little heart beat hard in his chest whenever he experienced Logan growing soft with Virgil or Roman, despite his stress. He couldn’t quite help quietly expecting the worst and when it didn’t happen, his heart was so full. Every time the moment where Patton expected a yell or a blow passed, he felt…Well, it was hard to explain... He felt untethered and perhaps irrationally relieved, grateful, probably and despite his shame, a little suspicious still.

Logan was affecting him most in those times when he acted so differently than how Patton had been conditioned to expect. When he untangled a purring kitten from another article of clothing and his large hands were so gentle, despite the threads coming loose, Patton felt soft; When he called the racoon a sabberndes Biest aus der Hölle and tried to wash the stolen jam off of its snapping jaws with a warm damp cloth, Patton breathed a sigh of relief, finding his chest filling with fondness; When Roman dropped into Logan’s lap while he was trying to read,  ignoring the ‘oof’ of pain he elicited while loudly complaining before being deposited on the couch or carpet with nothing more than fond amusement and exasperation or Logan even indulging his partner and holding him a little (like Roman had hoped), Patton wanted to hug him with relief. He was so grateful whenever he could understandably yell at Roman or Virgil or the pets, and didn’t. 

And then there was the way he treated Patton. 

Every morning, he greeted him the same way. “Good morning, Patton. I hope you are well rested?” Spoken in this deep, confident voice that held a soft, warm tone to it. Every morning, he would discuss the latest news he had read with Virgil, on his tablet and then he’d drink the rest of his tea while asking Patton about his plans for the day. He would listen and look at him with his dark attentive eyes as if he were truly interested. Whenever Patton meekly tried to divert his attention from him because he had nothing interesting to say, Logan would ask follow-up questions and tried to find out if he needed anything for his day. Every evening when he got home, he would ask how Patton was feeling, if he had enjoyed himself, what he and Virgil had been doing. He checked on the progress of his healing, despite not even needing anything but two band aids anymore; he would carefully cradle Patton’s hands in his own and move his fingers this way and that to check his nerves and dexterity. 

“Your hands are the basis of your profession. It is of vital importance that you are provided with optimal care to ensure the ideal conditions to regain your health.” He’d told Patton earnestly. The young baker had tried to swallow down the memories of wrapping his still bleeding hands himself, or throwing out batches of dough contaminated with his blood. 

And now Logan was wearing a dress uniform. 

After handing over the suit jacket, he placed the matching hat over his raven hair and straightened it critically, checking his reflection in the glass of the lion-flower picture Roman had finished. Turning to see if Virgil and Patton were at least ready to go, Logan found the baker huddled up on the couch where he usually sat in his attempt to make himself smaller. He was looking up at him with his honey brown eyes, dressed in soft, pale fabrics that accentuated his slim figure and innocent, pretty face. 

Mortified, Logan found himself flushing. Roman had told him Patton would enjoy the view and he’d secretly hoped his partner was right, but now that he actually stood under the gaze of the young man he wanted, so desperately, to be close to, he felt as shy as a teenager. His thoughts rarely strayed far from Patton. He found himself wondering what he was doing; if he needed anything; if he and Virgil were safe and happy at home. He kept wondering what Patton was thinking. Now that Trevor had left their lives, he felt like they were suddenly at a crossroads where the pâtissier needed to choose his path. They hadn’t discussed long term arrangements yet and the insecurity of it was eating at Logan. He was certain attempting to seduce Patton into staying at his side was a poorly timed idea. Yet in moments like these, when he felt his body heat with diffidence and excitement due to the younger man’s attention, it was hard not to be tempted. Logan didn’t know where to go from here, but he knew he wanted to keep Patton. He wanted him to be happy and safe and to be where he could protect him. He wanted him for himself and that was a terrifying thought. Patton deserved so much, and so much could go wrong. The pâtissier was almost too precious to consider claiming for himself. He was too gentle, too fragile and deserving to belong to Logan.  

 Thankfully, Patton always appeared to sense when a distraction was needed. Despite flushing and huddling tightly against the pillows upon being caught staring, he cleared his throat and adopted his most cheerful smile. 

“Let’s get you your medal, RoRo!”

“It is not just any medal.” Logan explained proudly. “The Medal for Valor is the department's third highest accolade. It is conferred upon police officers for acts of outstanding personal bravery intelligently performed in the line of duty at imminent personal hazard to life under circumstances evincing a disregard of personal consequences.”

“At least a few of those apply to Roman then.” Virgil grumbled. 

“Hey, I did perform intelligently!” Roman cried, offended. 

“No, you did not.” Both Virgil and Logan chimed simultaneously. 

“You are very intelligent, though!” Patton assured his friend sweetly as Logan indulged Virgil’s raised hand for a slightly unsure high five. 

*

Roman was a fucking snack, Virgil realized. He looked tall and regal and a little strict in his dress blues, like an authority figure; like an actor in a movie; like something Virgil would want to climb. Standing on the stage with his tall build and perfect posture and proud, sweet smile, he made cameras flash and hearts break all over the country. The ceremony would be broadcasted nationally that evening, due to the massive amount of attention that one fucking picture of him carrying that shiny bastard had gotten. Virgil was hiding it in one of his books. It was a good picture, okay? Whose business was it what he did with it?

Virgil clutched the cool rat in his hands closer to his chest, earning a small lick on the chin from the animal. Logan had given Nicodemus to him in the wise expectation of the irritation at all of the dressed up, thirsty bitches trying to seduce his man. Were his hands free, he’d have probably tried to knock out the scantily dressed, slightly orange, fake-tanned lady next to him for blowing a kiss at Roman as he beamed in their direction. Only the knowledge that it was him the attractive detective was smiling at seemed to calm him. He always did that: look at him like he was the fucking sun. It was fucking sad. 

His heart fluttered. 

Fuck him. Fuck him. He was too good. He was receiving a fucking Medal of Valor, for fucks sake. After receiving his medal, his speech was clear and eloquent and touching – was that bitch crying over there?! She better keep her hands to herself! 

His teeth clenched with the realization that Roman could just wade into the sea of his admirers and choose whoever he wanted. They would try their hardest to give him anything he wanted. Roman looked so heroic with his uniform and the gleaming medal he’d earned. He was gorgeous and nice and fair and caring and none of those hoes knew how fucking annoying he was as well. Virgil counted himself lucky that  he knew, though. 

But how did one keep the attention of a man so hungry for adventure and excitement if they couldn’t even stand to look at their own body after a shower? There were things that Virgil wanted, certainly. However, he was afraid of so many things that came with becoming Roman’s lover. The mushy, emotional crap for one: Roman wanted attention and flamboyant, public displays of affection and confessions and shit. That last one had nearly killed him. 

Or the fact that he would have to tolerate being seen naked and his scars being touched. Having to expose his tattoo. Possibly even having to deal with the memories of the humiliation and pain he’d experienced. He had no frame of reference for consensual, healthy sexuality and he had the feeling, unlearning all of the crap he had put himself through would be bloody painful. He would try, though; for Roman. The issue was that there would be no comfortable, romantic lovemaking like Roman probably dreamed of. There would be a Virgil with body issues and an aggressive protection of his secrets and image and- and fucking moves he learned on the street. How did one fuck someone like a boyfriend? The fuck was the difference? 

And how the fucking fuck did people learn to live with each other all day anyway? Didn’t they irritate each other? How was he supposed to go from ‘don’t touch me, you son of a bitch’ to ‘I love you so much, let’s spend every waking second together skipping through a field of daisies’? He didn’t want all that. He just wanted Roman. He wanted to touch when he felt like it, be comfortable when he was close to him and know he was happy and fulfilled and that he wouldn’t go anywhere. He wanted to claim him so that he would have the right to fucking bite anyone who wanted to hurt him. He wanted. He wanted so much. For most of it, he had no words. It was just this dumb, helpless yearning he felt all. The. Fucking. Time.

How was he supposed to cool it and strategize his next move when Roman sprung a fucking uniform at him? Did he have to be such a beautiful himbo?

“They sure look good, don’t they, kiddo?” Patton asked softly, wrapping his arm around Virgil’s without taking his eyes off the clean lines of Logan’s body where he was waiting for him as his partner shook hands. 

“Hmm, guess so.” Virgil mumbled, keeping his gaze a little lower than Patton’s. He had no qualms about enjoying the way those slacks hugged the curve of Roman’s backside. He was hot. He better make sure none of his fucking ‘fans’ got too close. Virgil would hate to force Roman to arrest him for punching a bitch. 

None of Roman’s fans got the chance to lay their greedy hands on him though. Logan, severe, tall and very intimidating, awaited him when he bounced down the stairs catching his partner as he lunged himself into his arms with a happy cheer. Logan also glared at the waiting crowd over Roman’s shoulder. He was a real bro. 

Upon releasing the older detective, Roman excitedly grabbed his friend’s hand and dashed straight towards the other two, ignoring the crowd of reporters and dressed up hyenas. 

“Tell me how fabulous I was!” He demanded, beaming at them. Virgil felt faint with relief. Roman only had eyes for him.

 Throughout the celebration at their favorite pub, Rosa and Logan kept a close eye on him and discreetly scared away everyone who got too close or too interested. Only Patton and - he realized with warmth – Virgil, were encouraged to be close by at all times. 

There had been no need to be afraid, as it turned out. Roman was eager to talk to Virgil, to include him in all of his conversations, to share his happiness with him. He was always polite and nice to everyone, but his attention always seemed to find its way back to Virgil. He even invited him outside – away from his party -  when he felt the young man had had enough of the people around him. 

The evenings had grown cold lately; Roman pulled his suit jacket off without asking and tentatively draped it over the narrow shoulders of the young man that had told him he wanted him. His Virgil. His wildcat. 

His green eyes were filled with more awe than they had been when he had received the highest honor he could have ever dreamed of. Virgil didn’t shrug him off; the slender shoulders under his hands relaxed as he rubbed warmth into them. The light of the pub cast flickering shadows over the sharp cheekbones that had been so flushed with possessive anger during the ceremony. Roman had been barely able to repress his giddiness. There had been no misunderstanding Virgil’s jealousy. He felt so wanted, so beautiful and precious. The thief had made him feel those things too, he couldn’t deny that he had liked their advances, but this – this feral, defensive anger – it was the truest proof of affection to Roman. Virgil made his heart come alive. His feelings were real and raw and Roman – he was so excited, so happy. So in love. 

He wanted to sweep Virgil into his arms and squish him to his chest in unbridled happiness. He wanted to clutch him close and gush about his love for him. 

He wanted to kiss him. 

Feeling the intense gaze on him still, despite clearly hoping Roman would stop looking at him so closely, making him feel so fucking shy, Virgil dared to look directly at him. He was still so anxious, the poor darling. Roman would coax him into his arms and make him yearn for his kiss. He wanted Virgil to want to kiss him so much he would pull him close with impatient hands. He would be a gentleman. And while he waited, he would continue to enjoy the exciting, hot feelings Virgil’s possessive anger gave him. It felt so good to be wanted. 

*

After the party, Roman was bumbling about the apartment in a happy daze, humming to himself. Virgil slouched, heading towards the kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge for some snacks, badly needing to come down from an evening of glaring at his competitors. A content, quiet atmosphere was settling over the rooms. 

The kitten had started mewling as soon as the door opened and ran towards them to be picked up. It eagerly rose onto its hind legs when Patton leaned down to pet it. Cradling it close, he breathed in the warm scent of the downy fur against his face, enjoying the way it rubbed itself against his cheek. 

Only Logan was looking a little lost in the middle of the living room. He had received Nicodemus from Virgil and was now holding him safely in both hands, almost compulsively petting his downy fur with his thumb. 

“You alright there, Lo?” Patton asked softly. The Detective’s eyes were dark and unreadable as he focused on the baker. 

“Certainly. However… there may be an issue that has caught my attention. Considering my limited social competence. I have not been entirely certain how to approach the subject. The last thing I wish to do is offend or cause stress. However, Remy has advised me to discuss it, so…” The detective rambled a little awkwardly, holding on to the rat for courage. 

It had been a while since Patton had seen him this nervous. His own heart fluttered a little with discomfort. He immediately wanted to help his kind friend out somehow. He just hoped he hadn’t done something wrong. 

“You can talk to me, if you like! Is there anything I can do? Did- did I do something?” He asked, his voice growing feeble and quiet. His palms suddenly sweaty against the kitten’s silky fur. 

Logan’s brows furrowed with worry as he observed the obvious discomfort he had caused. Roman briefly distracted him by wailing pitifully at not being allowed to touch the cheese sandwiches Virgil was grilling. There were far too many potential interruptions around here. 

“You did nothing wrong, Patton. Please do not be alarmed. Would you be comfortable with discussing the situation, as I perceived it, in the privacy of my bedroom? So we may not be interrupted?” 

Oh Tesla, he was blushing! Patton would come to think he had impure intentions with him! He worried about frightening him with his request as soon as he had made it. Perhaps he should have asked Virgil to use his room. 

Indeed, Patton looked taken aback. Glancing at the corridor, he seemed to need a moment to gather his courage. Logan hadn’t seen him this anxious since they had managed to somewhat soothe his fears after the first few days of healing under his roof. 

“Oh, yes. For sure!” He chirped, suddenly smiling brightly. The expression was lovely on his pretty face, yet it failed to reassure the detective. After all, he now understood how much Patton covered up with his cheerful expressions. 

“Are you quite certain, Patton? I will not be offended if you feel more comfortable not being alone with me. We can invite Virgil, if you would prefer having him there.” Logan offered gently. He couldn’t help hurting a little upon making the suggestion. Patton had trusted him with his vulnerability so much in the past, yet now he seemed weary once again. He was grateful for his phone calls with Remy, his friend had prepared him for the likelihood of regression into old fears and habits. 

‘Recovery is no more straight than you are, babe.’ He had explained. 

“Oh no, it’s all good! I just want to fix whatever makes you feel sad!” Patton promised, perhaps sensing his sadness. He stepped closer, wishing to soothe the droopy expression on his dear Logan’s face. He looked anxious and hurt. The baker had little room for his own fear when his friend was distressed. He wanted to listen and comfort the gentle detective. Upon finding himself in a position of care and protection, it was easy to remember how badly he wanted to be the cause of Logan’s happiness. 

“Satisfactory. However, I must demand you promise me to alert me if you ever feel uncomfortable. I shall not take anything you say personally.” Logan implored, trying to mean what he said. 

The moment Logan stepped into his bedroom he realized he was in over his head. This space was so intimate and ill equipped to have a conversation between individuals of their currently uncertain personal connection. So much could go wrong! He didn’t have the social competency to pull this off! Where would Patton even sit? There was only one chair! Sitting on the bed together was out of the question for various reasons. He didn’t even know how far apart he should sit to give him enough space. What if he sat too far away and his friend thought him angry or odd? Of course, he’d have to be the one to offer a seat to Patton, it was only polite to do so, but if he chose the bed for him, he might think Logan would try something. There was the chair for him to sit in of course. It only permitted one person to be seated and was therefore the superior choice. However, the bright orange epidendrum orchid he’d propped up against it made sitting in it awkward and uncomfortable, since it spilled its flowers all over the backrest. 

Logan started sweating. 

“Excuse me please, Patton. May I just…” He mumbled, hurriedly trying to squeeze past the pâtissier without touching him while Patton stood uncertainly at the foot of the bed, waiting for Logan to make a decision. 

After settling Nicodemus on the bed, Logan’s suddenly clumsy hands fumbled with the orchid as he tried to free the chair for Patton’s use, almost making him drop the flowerpot. A few pebbles of the fir bark the plant was potted in tumbled to the floor as he tried to squeeze the flower into a niche on the windowsill where the blossoms were draped over another houseplant for support. 

Logan was suddenly, terribly nervous. “Verdammt.” He muttered, despairing.

“Hey there, it’s okay.” Patton cooed suddenly. His voice sounded gentle. “Come on, Logan. It’s all good.” 

Patton’s soft, smaller hand wrapped around Logan’s clammy one and pulled tentatively. He couldn’t look at the little baker suddenly. Surely, he was disgusted by his sweaty hands and too polite to pull away. What was the social etiquette in a situation like this? Should he pull away? Should he excuse his behavior, or should he rather not draw attention to his shortcomings? He hadn’t felt this nervous about the other man in months. Why did he have to unravel so pitifully now that Patton needed him to be strong?

Patton’s fear seemed to have melted away entirely though. Calmly, he pulled on the detective’s hand and settled them both on the edge of the bed, facing the lush plants and large windows. His attention was entirely focused on Logan. 

“There’s no need to be nervous, okay? It’s just little old me. You can tell me anything.” He promised softly. His hair fell into his eyes, softening the inquisitive look. He employed just the right tone, the right amount of contact, settled them at the perfect distance from each other. Logan was simply baffled at how easy he made this terrible, messy task appear. 

“I don’t know how to do this correctly.” He confessed without having consciously decided to. The words just tumbled from his lips; coaxed out by the easy, trusting atmosphere Patton created without any effort. 

“Do what correctly?” The smaller man asked without judgment or impatience. He felt like he could sit here and listen to Logan for however long it took. He seemed to unlock something in the detective that made him quite helpless to uphold his strenuously built control. 

“My hands are sweaty.” He mumbled, realizing too late that his statement was neither an answer to Patton’s question nor did it relay any information he didn’t already possess, since he was currently holding said sweaty hands. It wasn’t even an apology. Suddenly his jacket was far too warm over his shameful blush. The baker took his change in topic in stride. 

“That’s okay. So were mine a moment ago. I rubbed them on poor Nugget.” He confessed, nodding to the gray kitten rubbing itself on the stoically seated rat on the bed behind them. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Thank you for your considerate words, Patton. However-” Noting too late that it was probably rude to keep holding hands after acknowledging the uncomfortable condition, he pulled his hands free and wiped them on his uniform slacks with more attention than the task warranted. What had he been talking about? 

“I wish to clarify- I mean - what I failed to convey is that the issue of my perspiration is only a symptom of the reason I am displeased with my shortcomings. I am afraid my request for a conversation has been worded in a way that might have caused you anxiety which is, in fact, the last thing I had wished for. My objective in asking for a private consultation has been entirely for your benefit. Yet I fear I have miserably failed, by forcing you to focus on my own needs once again.”

“Oh no! Logan, it’s fine. Please don’t be upset. I’m okay! I’m always okay. I don’t mind talking about what worries you at all. That’s what I’m here for!” 

Kindly, Patton wrapped his hands around the awkwardly clenched ones of his friend, probably knowing he had been obsessing over what to do with them. After a moment of trying to pull himself together, Logan breathed a deep sigh. Patton’s hands were so soft. The pastel band aids on his fingers were covered with cute round bear shaped cupcakes. The even shape of his short nails gave his messy, anxious mind something to focus on. Roman had been cheerfully filing them yesterday after Virgil had refused him access to his bitten ones. Trying to breathe evenly, he rubbed his thumb over the back of the pale fingers rhythmically. 

“Patton, would you be averse to a conversation about your constitution instead of my own? There is a … a concern I wish to address - if you would be amenable to do so. Of course, should you prefer to converse with Virgil or Roman about the topic, or not at all, I will not push you. I may not be the right person to offer an insight into emotional matters.” He rambled. He just couldn’t seem to stop showering Patton with his winding sentences and formal language even though he knew the distancing speech patterns were the exact opposite of what his friend probably needed right now. 

A moment of silence made the detective’s worry skyrocket once again. Had he pushed too hard? 

“What do you want to know?” Patton finally asked softly, adding “I’m fine. Honestly.” 

Logan dared to risk a glance up at the baker’s lovely face, worried he had already backed him into a corner and made him defensive like both Virgil and Remy had warned him of.

‘You do come across a little strong sometimes, ya know, sweets? He trusts you. Just let your, like, nerdy, stiff charm do the work and make him feel, like, safe or whatever.’

Safe. He usually had no trouble offering safety to Patton except for the cases when he appeared to be the problem. How did he make him feel safe from himself when he didn’t even know what he had done? Virgil had noticed the issue as well. He had been so kind and respectful when voicing his own worries over Patton’s fear. He hadn’t been willing to place the blame on Logan’s shoulders, though. 

‘I got that way too, sometimes.’ He had confessed. ‘Something in my head is messed up and then anything could set me off. Still does, sometimes.’ 

Tesla, Logan was grateful he had Remy to help Virgil deal with those issues. He couldn’t bear the thought of his little delinquent being left alone with his wounds. Unfortunately, Patton had no such professional help, so it fell to him to try. 

“Are you comfortable here?” 

Again, something about the way Patton made himself so accepting and approachable made Logan spill his thoughts without reflection. If the pâtissier wanted, he could play him like an instrument. 

Patton stilled, looking startled. He pulled his shoulders up, immediately looking small and insecure. 

“O-of course! Did I do something to make you think I’m not? I’m so sorry if I seemed ungrateful or made you antsy. I really didn’t want you to worry! You do so much for me and I’m very thankful! Everything you do is amazing and I couldn’t be happier! I’m really sorry for looking selfish! You really don’t need to do even more! I just- you can just ignore me and – and if there’s anything I can do to help or- or make you more comfortable-” 

“Patton, please wait!” Logan begged, confused about the change that had come over their conversation. How had they come from his question to Patton thinking he was selfish for making Logan worry?

“I’m afraid I am not following. Please allow me to clarify. I am very pleased to have you with us. My worry is a result of my affection for you and does not inconvenience anyone in the slightest. You have no reason to apologize for being cared about. And you have never seemed ungrateful or have in fact had any need to appear grateful at all. I am not certain where I failed to communicate that my question was entirely caused by my honest wish to ensure your comfort. Your possible unhappiness is no reason to apologize at all. Your feelings are… what is the correct terminology? Your feelings are – valid, I believe. And I merely – I wish to ensure your happiness. I feel I have failed you in some way and I am not blaming you for it. Please, help me fix it.” He begged softly. 

Patton seemed to need a moment to follow his long sinuous speech. Still, he tried to reassure him. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Logan! It’s all good. Please don’t ever worry about me! I’m happy! I’m always happy!” He claimed, bravely trying to smile at the detective. 

Logan’s shoulders fell upon realizing that they were back to Patton pretending he wasn’t hurting. He always had a hard time figuring out the right path to take when his friend refused to cooperate. He knew his claim to be false, but how could he make him confess to it? He was fairly certain an interrogation was the wrong path to take. It would only frighten and isolate Patton, but even using the wrong tone – something he was very prone to – could cause the same effect. Stress made his heart race irritatingly. This was not in any way close to his comfort zone. 

While he groped around for words – or tried not to use too many at once – Patton watched him with the attention of a small creature waiting for the chance to escape a predator. He didn’t miss the disheartened look. 

Logan looked very lost and overwhelmed, suddenly. Patton had only meant to reassure him! Trevor had always been the most easy to handle when Patton had made sure his boyfriend didn’t have to deal with his annoying feelings of loneliness or fear or the issues he wanted to discuss. Taking the problems from him had been safest. Logan however, clearly had hoped for a different outcome. 

Because he was Logan, of course. 

As Patton waited for signs of aggression or annoyance, the understanding of his own actions dawned on him: With Trevor, fights had come over them like the tides. There had been a certain rhythm to it, to the dissatisfaction, the feeling of insignificance, the unintentional insult that caused the tension to erupt and crash over Patton. He had been waiting for the same thing to happen. Every episode after a fight had been filled with regret and roses and vows to do better. The time of reconciliation and wooing Patton had always, always followed a fight and had also always given way to apparent peace before the slow building of new anger. He’d learned to read the signs and brace himself and he had been doing the very same thing to his friends: To him, the way Virgil kicked Roman for trying to steal food; the passionate ranting between him and Logan; the demanding, loud complaining of Roman; and especially the frightening lectures Logan gave in return. They were all signs of a culmination of fury that would inevitably and painfully blow up. 

They weren’t, though, and consciously, Patton knew this. 

Roman was always this way. Ever since they had met, he had been insulted easily and claimed the world was treating him with terrible injustice or he’d tried to rile Logan up with his overwhelming physical contact. 

Even since Virgil had come into his life, he had been dark and brooding and easily enraged by some political decision or economical problem and he’d always had been quick to retaliate against Roman’s attempts at closeness with playful, minor violence like a hiss, or a scratch, or an elbow to the ribs, that brought them into contact. 

And Logan… Logan had always, always been an obsessive, stubborn man with a need for order and a habit for lecturing and ordering Roman around. He had always glared at him and threatened to have him adopted or make him eat, or grabbed him by the back of the neck or generally complained moodily about any and all messes. 

None of those things had changed; neither of those moody, loud men had ever tried to be anything else. They had never been better than they were now and they also had never been worse. There was no hidden pattern to their behavior. Their coexistence wasn’t any different than it had been a day, or a week, or a month ago. Patton was just expecting it to be. He simply noticed the little arguments more, feared the consequences of the wailing more, and expected Roman and Logan to turn on Virgil for being an aggressive little thing. 

None of their interactions were as malevolent as Patton had come to conceive them to be, now that he considered them through a more objective lens. Virgil might swipe at Roman and tell him he was a greedy oaf, but he blushed when he looked up at him and was so clearly flustered by the effect of the other man that he didn’t know how else to interact with him, lest he see his vulnerability. Though he tried to push and shove at him, he actually sought contact with the excuse of his physical arguments. 

Roman on the other hand wasn’t fooled for a second. He kept goading and tempting Virgil to engage in their little play-fights with him to invite him closer. Sometimes they would argue until they laughed; sometimes Virgil would howl in frustration and tackle Roman onto the couch where they would both roll around until the young man’s nervous energy was spent and he would become soft and tired. 

Neither was ever truly angry. 

And Logan… his tone when he condemned the latest immigration bill was passionate and frustrated and it frightened Patton. He remembered the cold grip of sudden fear as the detective had leaned over Virgil’s shoulder to read an article he had shown him. His flare of annoyance had been directed at congress, but Patton had seen Virgil – his hurt, beloved kiddo – sitting so close and so easily harmed. He just couldn’t not be afraid for him when tempers flared. But Logan hadn’t been mad at Virgil and the barista hadn’t felt threatened. His arguments had supported the older man’s. They had both ranted at the same thing, united in their feelings, comfortable in their shared views. Yet Patton’s emotions had only reacted to raised voices in the room. 

When had Patton lost the ability to see past the dynamic this group had always shared? It was like he was too close, too emotionally involved to see past the immediate flares of moods and tones and failed to see what had always been glaringly obvious before. 

These men loved each other. 

Virgil was so enamored with Roman, he seemed utterly overwhelmed. Roman simply melted at any little bit of affection he was given. In any of their harmless fights, his eyes shone with joy. Whenever Logan complained about his partner’s habits and behavior and untidiness, the dramatic detective seemed more at ease than before, knowing his friend was focused entirely on him. He preened and played and put on a show, knowing he was being paid attention to and looked after. And Logan and Virgil… had he ever really been given reason to fear? Though Logan was plenty grumpy with Roman, who was plenty intentionally annoying with him, he was never even curt with Virgil. Every interaction between them was respectful and even affectionate. Logan always spoke to him with that soft, that polite, articulate gentleness that was so special about him. His hands would find their way into Virgil’s hair every morning to groom him, since the young man apparently refused to use a hairbrush. He would ask about his day and encourage the young man to pursue his interests. Every meal the barista made was complimented earnestly and every contribution to a conversation was listened to. Those two were comfortable with each other in a silent, calm way Patton didn’t really have anything to compare it to. They would just sit next to each other and read and still feel like they were enjoying each other’s company. 

And of course, the most prominent flaw in Patton’s belief that he had to expect to be hurt, was the fact that neither of them treated him anything like they treated each other. 

Virgil was soft with him. He handed him the kitten and chatted with him more than he probably would with anyone else. He watched him with dark, worried eyes and sought contact with the wish to reassure Patton. He even offered to talk, despite not enjoying emotional conversations. 

Roman was very open about his affection for Patton; he liked to hug him every day, style his hair and even pick him up to twirl him around and kiss his face. His smiles were always filled with joy when he saw him. The young detective was like an overexcited puppy with him, loving his attention and wanting everything Patton had to give. 

Logan was especially kind to him, actually. His touches were the most respectful he had ever been treated with. When his hands touched his back to guide him out of a dancing Roman’s way or when he would gently tap his elbow to get his attention, Patton would even describe the contact as tender. His eyes were always warm when he looked at him and his hugs… the little pâtissier was hit hard with longing. He hadn’t hugged Logan in so long, just because his expectations had made him see ghosts in every shadow. His friend must have felt so abandoned. He knew Logan had trouble reading a room or understanding certain signals, but there was no way he had missed the distance Patton had created between them. 

This was what he had meant with his question. 

“Oh Logan, I’m so sorry!” Patton cried out, knowing full well his sudden mood swing would terribly unsettle Logan. 

Seeing the man clearly now that he was actually looking, he realized how much he wanted to be with Logan again. He had lived next to him and had protected himself from the idea of him, based on the things that he had learned Trevor would do; but he hadn’t really connected to him in the last couple of weeks. His own illusions had cost him Logan’s comfort, causing him to be more shaken and saddened, which had made his fears worse. 

He was such an idiot. So much misery, for nothing. 

Blessedly, a bewildered looking Logan hesitantly opened his arms with a look on his face that clearly stated he had no idea if his offer was appropriate or not. Patton dove in. 

A shuddering breath made him shake. 

Another made him hiccup. 

Logan seemed to react on muscle memory and wrapped steadying arms around the narrow body, squishing him to his chest and almost settling him in his lap. His hugs were never casual. He pulled Patton in tight and buried his face in his hair, seeming to envelop him entirely. Logan was taller than the baker, making it easy for Patton to wrestle his glasses off half heartedly and nuzzle into Logan’s shoulder. Warm darkness deprived Patton of sights, sounds and the sensations of the outside world. He was completely wrapped up in a living, breathing hold. Squeezing his eyes shut, Patton focused on the chest he pressed his forehead against, the rising and falling, the smell of freshly washed fabric. He wished Logan was wearing the dark blue, fluffy wool sweated he had pulled on yesterday. The one Roman had promptly snuggled against it, demanding his head to be rubbed. He actually wanted that too. 

Hoping for the same affectionate treatment, the smaller man rubbed his cheek against the shirt. The hand that tentatively buried itself in the lush curls made all tension flow from his softer body. Patton sagged against Logan and sighed deeply, a pleasurable shiver running down his spine. It felt like stepping under the hot spray of the shower on a cold winter day. He couldn’t get enough. The telltale sensation of Logan searching for words and shyly breaking off before he had formed them made affection course through Patton. It made him want to shake his hands in the air and hop up and down on his toes. He was giddy with it. 

“Um… would you, perhaps – for the sake of ensuring your comfort - like to lay down, Patton? Not to attempt any inappropriate activities of course! I am only proposing to change to a reclining position since Roman and Virgil appeared to be comforted by a prolonged-”

“Yes, please!” Patton chirped, immediately enamored by the idea. He was clutching onto Logan’s back so hard, the other had to be uncomfortable. He couldn’t seem to get close enough. Everything else was overwhelming, with too much light and too much noise. He wanted to curl up and be held, he wanted to be protected and hidden and he wanted Logan. Before he knew it, his friend had awkwardly maneuvered him onto the bed while trying to pull off his stiff uniform jacket at the same time. The moment his head hit the pillow, Patton was ready to disappear in this man’s arms. He shuffled as close as he could and felt so, so safe. Despite his sudden fear of the world around him, every breath brought him closer to tranquility. As long as he could stay in this position, petted and hidden and held just right, he could put himself back together. 

Weariness washed over him and made his limbs heavy. His constant fear had exhausted him so. A deep breath felt weighted by worry and stress, and fell away as he breathed out, relaxing more and more with every exhale. 

Logan, steady and patient and solid, held onto him and evenly stroked his head. Patton knew without looking that the detective had closed his eyes. His limbs were relaxing against his waist too, becoming heavy with relief. He seemed to understand there was no space for words for once.

Both men fell into a light doze and eventually drifted off to sleep. 

Patton woke hours later to the dim, respectful light of the planet nightlights. Nugget had woken him with a harrumphing mewl. It flinched in its sleep and paddled its paws before falling into a snoring doze once again. Both the little kitten and the rat had settled down above his head on the pillow. Logan was still deeply asleep, soft and unguarded. His hair was spread over the pillow on one side and his glasses were squished over his face. Gently, Patton untangled a hand and pulled them off. Had he been any less sleepy, he wouldn’t have dared to just reach out this way, but as he pulled the frame off, Logan simply grumbled in his sleep and nuzzled back into the pillow. His arm hung limp over the slender figure curled close, entirely unthreatening. Very slowly, Patton settled back down and looked up at the sleeping man. The lights seemed to soften his severe features. Seeing him this vulnerable, Patton felt so, so much. His heart was so full, he could barely contain it. He was safe here with this man who’d never asked for anything but his trust and friendship, and he knew, despite the worry he had caused, that Logan would forgive him. He had forgotten all of this, and he feared his silly head might forget again, but even if he knew it or not, he wouldn’t be hurt or pushed away. He was home. 

With the tiredness of his emotional turmoil still heavy in his bones, Patton fell asleep again before he could consider leaving. 

****************************************

So this is where the boys are taking me. Interesting. I hope I’ll have the next chapter up sooner for you. It jumped me with some Logan angst, the bugger. Then, we will get where I actually wanted to go with the fancy uniforms!

ART:

We got art!!!!!! So excited I LOVE LOVE LOVE getting art!!!!!!! This lovely piece was made by my dearest @olcia46​ (wonderful, beautiful human) and is utter gorgeous!!!!

Then @ravenclawunicorn1​ created this amazing calligraphy of the title which I am utterly crazy about!!!!! I wanted to use it as a new header, but it turned out a little big. I am so awes by it, though. I’ll have to look as it a bunch more!

Not strictly art but super duper helpful for any readers who enjoy a visual: The comparison of the Sides’ heights in KHS (along with a post about their ages and such. Thank you @violetblossem​ 

Next Chapter

[saibug1022]

Okay but can we talk about Sanders Sides fanart though?????

(This is just gonna be me ranting about how much I love Sanders Sides fanart and I'm on mobile so no keep reading line. Sorry mobile users)

(Also, I lost the url of most of the artists, so if you know who drew them please take them/let me know)

Okay there are SO many things I love about Sanders Sides fanart. Some of them have to do with what Sanders Sides ALLOWS artists to do. Because they all look the same, and they usually don't change outfits, they're easily recognizable. Also they're not animated. WHICH leaves their human au appearance up for interpretation, and there are SO MANY DIFFERENT ART STYLES.

There are so many different art styles in the fandom, and we can get away with it because you can tell who's who even if two art atyles are COMPLETELY different. Now I'm gonna rant about some of my favorite styles and what's great about them.

Let's start here (don't know artist):

This is a human au (obviously) and they're still obvious who they are. BUT it's so realistic??? Like there's so much depth and the shading and shadows are phenomenal.

Next an emo boy (don't know artist):

I'm not even sure what I love so much about this one. It's like a cross between animation (the face and features mostly) but with realistic touches like the shadows in his hair and the detailing on his shirt.

Some Logan doodles (Don't know artist):

Listen. LISTEN. This is just SO FREAKING CUTE. I love the noses and the eyes and the facial expressions, and it's just so PRECIOUS. Also I am such a sucker for the Sides in skirts/dresses.

The Split (lost the artist):

This isn't super realistic BUT I still love it. It's more cartoony/simple than the others BUT still the same amount of skill. Like the details near the split like they're melting or forming or whatever, I half expect it to be a GIF and for them to keep splitting every time I look at it.

"Have you ever imagined killing your brother?" (Don't know artist):

Okay listen the freaking FACIAL EXPRESSIONS they get me EVERY TIME. Also something unique about this style: I've seen a lot of various styles where they just do lineart and a bit of shading and then just color code the Sides, right? Well this one they are definitely color coded, BUT there's various shades of that color. Like Roman, rather than being completely red, is almost more of a red tint, almost like a filter or something. I don't see that alot and I like it.

"I was one of them" (don't know artist):

Mystery dark side, upset Virgil, the mouths, the eyes, the way they did the scales, the lack of a complicated background which makes it more ominous, and holy shit the LIGHTING! WHAT THE FUCK. HOW.

Gay Disaster Dad (@the-pastel-peach):

This one LITERALLY looks a panel of something I could buy at a comic book store. It's a unique style and they characters are recognizable AND it looks like something straight out of a comic book, and that's all WITHOUT COLOR.

I call this one "Salem Is A Lesbian" (@when-day-met-the-knight):

Okay but LISTEN: Women in suits. That is all. Actually no it's not, because female ROMAN, in a SUIT. I freaking love the suit and I love the way she's shaded. And holy fuck the hair. Hnnngghhhgg pretty.

He Snek (don't know artist):

I've seen a lot of art since DWIT of Deceit with multiple arms, but I just really like this one. I don't even know what it is about it! I just really really like it.

Sanders Sides poster sort of (@blue-stopsigns):

Do I even need to SAY anything here? Each side doing their own thing, Thomas in the background, the RAINBOW LIGHTING in the background, Virgil's shield, and the faces, I love all of it.

This is to be continued cuz I reached the image limit but I HAVE MORE ART AND I HAVE MORE TO SAY.

[leoninekelter]

I drew some ships with Virge in it! I want to draw some poly ships w/ virge, request some and I might :)

You can also request just 2 people ships, and yes, even RemRom. Its incest, but I swore to myself this would be a safe account for any ship, and that includes the creativitwins. I dont necessarily ship it myself, but that doesnt mean others dont.

I inked them in a while ago, and so they're kinda behind on how I draw now. I hope you like them :)

I wasnt able to color in Deceits shirt because I used whiteout like 10 times trying to get it right. I forgot to erase the sketch behind it too, so you see my signature twice (I always sign the sketch in case I dont finish, and then the ink so I dont forget to do it later) and my handwriting is sloppy... what they're saying is this:

Deceit: Are you allowed to wear a Nirvana shirt to a P!ATD concert?* Shouldn't that be considered treason?

Virgil: Do I look like a rule follower to you? And who says treason, what are we, a monarchy?

*I know P!ATD broke up and it's just Brendon Urie but shushhh

And this was funnier in my head I'm sorry.

Logan got his ears pierced! And yes, he is dressed emo, people underestimate aesthetic Logan, that's my life >:(

Virgil: You?! Logan Sanders, you got your ears pierced?!

Logan: um, yes... You did it, why cant I?

Very cute in my opinion :)

^once again funnier in my head^

Coffee gay and soft Emo gay dating? How about fuck yea

Remy: Come onn, play Hum Hallelujah already.

Virge: no, you promised me American Idiot.

I like to imagine their first conversation was an argument over the best Fall Out bOy song ever, and also it is canon that Virge listens to Green Day fight me

I have more coming that I made before hand, please like, follow me, reblog and/or comment, it gives people more motivation than you think!

And leave a ship request if you'd like :)

[latestageyouth]

When you walk away (Nothing more to say)

chapter 2 -  #Pattonisleftoutonceagain

trigger warnings: sympathetic Remus and Deceit, mention of human taxidermy (just one sentence), grave-robbing (no active grave robbing), swearing, dogs, mentions of death but no one actually dies

summary: Just the boyos bonding in an old haunted church (I am sorry Patton stans Patton just would not allow of This Behavior™)

author’s note: uploaded another one! yay! the trigger warnings on this one are wild, I didn’t even realize that haha. Anyways, enjoy!

There was something wet on his face. Virgil scrunched up his eyebrows. The wet seemed to move, it felt kind of harsh on his skin. It was shaped...like a tongue. Virgil shot up, eyes wide. He looked at the spot next to him on the couch, staring at the golden retriever who was still trying to lick him. He moved away from the couch.

He heard someone chuckle behind him, "Good morning, Sunshine," he turned around to be faced with Roman, who was eating eggs at the table.

Virgil opened his mouth to say something, but found himself stuck, as if there was a hand around his throat, but inside.

"Rise and shine," Roman took another bite of his eggs.

Virgil scrambled for his phone. Uncle Emile is gonna kill him. Sure enough, there were 23 messages and missed calls in total. He was soon typing out a response: 'Hey, Em, I'm okay, sorry I scared you, I fell asleep.'

He looked at the smudged number on his forearm and decided to save it. He also texted this number 'Remus? Where did u go? u still in the house?'

He got the response almost immediately. 'no we went to starbucks lmao'

'so u finally woke up lolololololol'

He also sent a picture of Virgil sleeping on the couch.

'so,,,bootiful,,,,,,,so,,puree'

'lmao'

Virgil huffed and began typing: 'ok, I get it, stop spamming me. Also, bring me a caramel latte would u??'

'k'

Virgil looked at the time, 7:23 shining on the screen. He opened Notes, typing out a question for Roman: 'is that ur dog?'

He turned the screen to face Roman, who looked at it and then at the dog eating from his bowl, "Yeah, her name's Princess Stain The Sixth" before Virgil could ask him what the fuck, Roman continued, "Remus named her, we just call her Princess."

Oh, that explains it. Virgil nodded. There was a long silence between the two of them, Virgil looking at Princess while Roman ate his eggs.

"So...you're mute?" at last Roman looked up at the other. Virgil contemplated the answer. He didn't want to explain his condition and answer Roman's questions, and there was not much of a chance that he will ever speak around him. He nodded.

"Ah, sorry about yesterday, there aren't any mute or deaf students in our school. I know that's not an excuse, but still," he took the plate and put it in the sink, "Though I do have one question..." Virgil raised his eyebrows, "Why do you hang out with Remus?"

Virgil began typing, well, actually deleting more than typing: 'I mean, yeah he can be a bit extra, but he's not that bad when you tune out most of the things he says.'

Roman quirked an eyebrow, "'A little bit extra'? I'm sorry, are we talking about the same person? He listed off more gory and effective ways to kill the main characters while we watched the movie. One of which included a detailed process of human taxidermy."

'Okay, he can be really fucking disgusting when he wants, but at least he's not a boring prude.'

Roman shook his head, "Try living with him, after a week you would be crying tears of happiness if he stopped talking."

Virgil stared at him.

"R-right, sorry."

Both looked at the front door as it practically flew open, "Hi bitches! Dee already went to school, but I just couldn't leave you here," Remus walked over to Virgil and handed him a Starbucks cup. He took a sip and scrunched up his face. Pure black coffee, "Oops, sorry, must've gotten them mixed up."

How can you even drink that? Virgil questioned. He wanted an answer to that, but the Latte was more important.

"Okay, so we have a few minutes before the school bell rings, do you need anything?" Roman looked at the clock hanging above the fridge, then at the other two. Virgil shrugged, there wasn't anything he could take. Remus went to his room for his backpack. Virgil got out his phone again, seeing there was 1 unread message from his uncle: 'Alrighty, just make sure that it will not happen again :) love you too, meet me at school <3' Virgil smiled a little at that.

"Okay, that's everything, let's go!" Remus was already out the door, and Virgil ran to catch up to him, Roman just stayed behind them.

They were walking too fast, so Virgil couldn't type without it looking like a bunch of gibberish. Instead, Virgil settled into listening to Remus ramble on and on about that one cute boy in Starbucks with a broken nose, how Damon got almost bit by Princess again, about what time he wants to spray the graffiti in the boy's bathroom...wait what? Virgil tried to forget about the last part. He didn't want to get in trouble on his second day, this school will be different. He's gonna be a good student...well, at least a mediocre one. Yeah, mediocre is good, none of this graffiti business. He hopes Remus won't be offended. It was nice having a friend. Were they even friends? Virgil felt a nudge on his shoulder.

"Dude, you gucci?" Virgil nodded, "So yeah, as I was saying, deodorant doesn't taste that bad."

They departed while going to their lockers. None of their lockers were close to one another, which Virgil thought was a shame, but at least Remus isn't sure which is his. He wouldn't want to open it one day only to find it filled with dead possums or whatever Remus would think of. He caught the sight of Damon talking with one of the girls in his English class. When Damon finally noticed Virgil looking at him, he wasted no time approaching him, ignoring the girl, who eventually scoffed and walked away.

"So, the sleeping beauty finally woke up, huh?" Virgil gave him an unamused look, nudging his head against the direction of the girl. Damon looked back at her, "Oh, Bailey? Don't worry about her, just gossiping," he waved his hand dismissively.

"What are we talking about?" Remus said as he leaned against Virgil's locker.

"Okay, you didn't hear it from me, but Remy was caught fucking with Nate under the social studies hallway's staircase. Again. But, like, I dunno, it's just a rumour after all..." Deceit exaggerated his hand movements for a more dramatic effect.

"Okay, we all know the last part is bullshit. Of course he would get caught, he's such an amateur," they both looked between the three, their eyes landing on Virgil, "...You don't know who Remy is, do you?" Virgil shook his head.

"Remy is the school's professional slacker. He spends all of his nights at concerts and parties, then drinks coffee to try to stay awake, which doesn't work most of the time anyway, so he sleeps a lot in class. If you offer to buy him Starbucks he will do anything for you. He's also a major slut, a cheater. He's utterly disgusting. Don't ever talk to him," the longer Damon talked the more intense his death glare got, but although it was aimed at Virgil, it wasn't aimed at Virgil.

"You're only saying that because he broke up with you," Remus smirked.

At that moment, the glare was averted to Remus and Damon looked more offended than angry, "He absolutely did not! I broke up with him. It was his fault that he was drunk and still thought we were together. I didn't even know he was drunk. It's those godforsaken glasses, he never takes them off. Why the hell does he even wear them?" Damon crossed his arms.

"Maybe he doesn't have eyes..."

Virgil squinted his eyes and let out an exaggerated cough. The couple looked up at him.

"Oooh yeah, sorry, we forgot about you," there wasn't anything malicious behind Remus' words, as far as Virgil could tell.

"Anyways," the two diverted their eyes at Damon, who pointed his finger at Virgil, "You have economics, right?" Virgil nodded, "Great, we too," Damon smirked. At the word 'economics' Remus let out a loud and exaggerated groan. Damon just rolled his eyes, "C'mon, economics isn't that bad when you actually put in effort."

Remus put his face in his hands, "I don't wanna put in effort..." he drew out the last word.

"Nevertheless, we should probably get to class," and so, the three began walking down the halls. When they did get to the classroom, Remus and Damon already sat together and shrugged at Virgil. There were two empty seats. One was next to a sleeping guy with a leather jacket whose coffee was tipped over and slowly trickled on his desk. He assumed that was Remy, no thanks, he'd rather sit next to that cafeteria kid from the other day. As soon as he sat down the stranger beamed at him and began talking. Virgil learned his name was Patton, and that Roman had already told him he was mute, so he was sorry. Virgil accepted the apology. There was just something off about him that Virgil couldn't place a finger on. It wasn't the fact that Patton was too cheery and chatty for his own good or the way he always moved his finger, wiggling them around or playing with a pencil, no, Virgil got his fair share of hyperactive friendly kids who make friends with everyone they see. Patton got quiet when the teacher walked in. Almost...too quiet, if that's a thing. Virgil assumes it is. The kid isn't even paying that much attention, much more focused on doodling flowers and cats in his notebook. Virgil decided to ignore it, he wasn't about to stick his nose up some stranger's business. The only interesting moments in the lesson were when Remy woke up and realized he doesn't even have this class, or when one of the other teenagers disrupted the lesson and Mr. Porter got all red in the face. He let out a sigh when the bell rang. As he was getting up a hand wrapped around his shoulders.

"We're thinking about skipping the rest of the day, you comin'?"

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Damon, "Don't act like you actually enjoy school. And before you...type anything, yes, it is only your second day, which means they will most likely let you off with a warning, so even if we get caught, you don't have to worry."

"So, you goin'?" Virgil shook his head. Remus raised his eyebrows, "You sure, emo?" Virgil shook his head again, this time slower.

"Well, skipping it is then," Damon walked out of the class as the other two followed. Virgil didn't complain, but it's not like he could anyways, "Around this time, most of the school hall monitors are at the cafeteria or the classrooms, so we can just walk out. If it's not a bad day that is, but even then it's typically just Oliver, who will let you go if you bribe him. Eight dollars usually does it," they were in the door when they heard a voice behind them and froze.

"Did you think you could just skip without me?"

They turned around to be faced with Roman with crossed arms.

"I mean, yeah, kinda," Remus said.

Roman chuckled, "Just because you are the 'Bad Twin' doesn't mean I am not getting sick of this school. So, how about you let me go with you and I won't tell anyone," he held out his hand. Remus stared at it for a while before spitting on his and shaking Roman's. Really, Roman should know better.

"Deal."

"Great, the twins together. Just what I needed," Damon grumbled, and Virgil couldn't help but nod his head in agreement.

"What do you think you're doing? Also, Roman, how could you?"

"Ah shit, not another one," Damon made an actual physically pained face that that.

"Logan, where's Patton?" Roman looked around.

"In the class, like you all should be," Logan pushed up his glasses.

Remus leaned over to the three, "Let's just keeps walking and pretend we didn't hear him," so, they turned around and walked to the school entrance, ignoring Logan's remarks and shouts as he followed them while the others tried to suppress their giggles, Remus especially. It was about 3 minutes after exiting the school and Logan realized there was no chance he could go back now, gave up, and tagged along. They all talked over where they should go, but Virgil's suggestion of going to the old abandoned church won by a majority vote, which meant that Damon, Remus and Virgil were all for it and Logan and Roman tried to protest but failed. The church was about eight minutes from the school. Neither of them knew why the church was abandoned, or how long it was, but nevertheless, it was pretty cool. Virgil didn't have a lot of time to explore the town, so walking around was refreshing. Well, it would be if it wasn't so damn hot.

"God fucking damn it, how can you walk in a leather jacket in this weather and not sweat?" Damon squinted his eyes at Remus.

"I don't sweat, it's disgusting."

Roman laughed, "So that's disgusting to you? Sweating? Nevermind that, how does that even work? You just don't sweat 'cause you don't want to?" he said with a mocking tone.

Remus gave him a deadpan look, "Yeah. Sweating is disgusting, so I don't do it."

Roman didn't know how to respond to that. Neither did any of them, except for Logan, "Well, there is a condition called anhidrosis, which is a reduced ability or inability to produce sweat. Is it possible that you have that?"

"No, I think I just don't like sweating," Remus shook his head.

"Can we stop talking about sweating and instead focus on the fact that the church is surrounded by a fence?" Damon gestured his hand towards the old church which came into view, "I mean, of course, we can just climb over it, but it has spikes, so..."

"Is there a hole under the fence? Or maybe in it?" Logan pushed his glasses up. Damon looked at him.

"It's iron, try again, sherlock," the group walked closer to the church. Remus was already touching the fence, trying to climb over it while Roman tried to stop him and get him back down. They all looked around when they heard a phone ringing. Logan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He sighed and put the phone to his ear.

"Yes, Patton?" the other four tried to be as quiet as possible, "Ah, no, I am afraid I'm not at school, I..." Logan looked between all of them, settling at Damon who was mouthing 'You're sick', if Virgil guessed correctly, "I got nauseous, so the teachers made me go home," there is a bit of silence, only a muffled quiet voice coming from the phone that neither of them could decipher, "Yes, I would appreciate. I apologize for making you anxious...Yes, of course. See you after school," he ended the call and put the phone back in his back pocket.

"You didn't mute your phone, are you fucking mental?"

"Remus, shut the fuck up, anyways, do any of you see a gate?" after Damon stopped talking Virgil pointed at Logan. The other four looked at him confused. He gestured for Logan to move, then pointed again. The four looked in the said direction, "Oh, there it is. Does anyone know how to pick locks?"

"I do," said two voices at once. Remus and Logan looked at each other, "To be honest, I am not surprised," Logan said.

"To be honest, I am pleasantly surprised. What else can you do with those hands, nerd?"

"Right, well, Remus, I am sure you have a bobby pin in that monstrosity you call hair," Damon scrunched up his nose.

Remus pulled out two bobby pins out of his bun, "You're just jelly of my long shiny locks."

"That greasy thing hasn't been washed in three years, I am not jealous. Trust me."

Remus and Logan walked over to the lock, "Padlocks are easy to picklock, this should only take a couple seconds," Logan takes on of the bobby pins out of Remus' hand and puts it in the lock. They can't really see what the two are doing, but as promised, they hear the padlock open. Remus throws the padlock away and Loga opens the gate. Remus is the first one to run in, walking to the front door. The rest followed and quickly caught up with him.

The church itself had two large towers on either side. It had a stone structure and the left tower was missing a roof on one side. It had long stained glass windows with a pointed arch, some of the lower ones were broken. The right tower and what had remained of the left had a sharply pointed spire with a cross on top.

"I am assuming this is gothic revival church since an original gothic church would be more broken than this."

"Who cares, let's go inside!" Roman was already opening the door. Surprisingly, the door was open. They stepped inside. The inside was massive. It was long with columns on either side. Instead of the ceiling was a ribbed vault, "Holy shit..." Roman's voice echoed through the church. The crunching of the leaves on the floor echoed as well. Everything echoed.

"Remus, if you scream I swear to god..." Damon glared at the said man. Remus just smiled and shrugged. Then he screamed. After everyone was done covering their ears and the echo slowly fainted, the four began yelling at him and Damon pushed him away, to which Remus just laughed.

They explored the church for a while, which involved Remus mostly hanging off the statues and drawing on the walls with pens, Logan taking pictures and analyzing the interior, Roman standing behind the podium and preaching about Beyonce and Damon and Virgil messing with the organ. After that, they went out in the back where the graveyard was.

"I bet the church was closed down because it was haunted. Do you think someone was killed here?"

Damon looked at Remus, "It's an old abandoned church, of course someone was killed here."

"Do you think there are ghosts?" Roman looked back at the angel statue covered in moss that they passed a while ago.

"Ghosts don't exist."

"Of course they do, specs," Roman spat back.

"Is that so? Do you have any physical proof to back up your statement?"

"No, that's kinda the point of ghosts."

"My dudes, I think I just found a grave robbed grave," they turned to look in Remus' direction. The said man was looming over a seemingly empty grave. When they took a closer look at it they noticed that the casket was opened and almost invisible under the dirt that fell back in the hole. The decomposed remains of the women in it looked terrifying, "That's, like, so cool. I wish that were me."

Virgil didn't think it was cool. Actually, he thought it was revolting and unnerving. The thought of him dying and someone just digging up his corpse to look for something to make money with is disturbing. He stepped away from the grave. He didn't feel safe anymore, instead, it was replaced with an eerie feeling that someone was watching them. He needed to get out of here. He pulled out his phone and began typing. He tapped on Roman's shoulder and the shorter man eventually turned around and read the message, 'u wanna go to dennys? i havent eaten anything all day and im starving'

Roman turned to the others, "Hey, wanna go to Dennys? I am starting to feel kinda hungry."

"Glad you mentioned it, my stomach acids are literally starting to eat me up from the inside," Remus turned around to face the other two.

"Yeah, sure."

"That is satisfactory."

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (20)

A/N: BIG YEEHAW HOURS TODAY Y’ALL ITS BALL TIME!!!!!!! AND WE CAN’T HAVE A BALL WITHOUT A PRINCE *stars bawling*

costumes will come in another post bc i. got really excited and then drew them all like, last month (most of them, some were finished last night y e e et)

WARNINGS: remus mention, heist details, wound descriptions, sword mention, scar descriptions, threats of violence, thoughts of dying — alright, im pretty sure that's it, but this chapter has thicc details so if i missed anything pls pls pls lmk

Words: 4550

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 ,3 <3 

Deceit really was right, Patton thought while he looked around at the town. His arm was linked around Logan’s as they walked down one of the town’s side streets, from Dr. Picani’s office, and he was taking the time to admire how intricate all of the architecture had gotten. It was intricate and worn and every building seemed unique now, something that he hadn’t realized was missing during their first pass through. 

There were arch ways, bridges between doors on the third floors of buildings. There were seemingly hand-woven canvases shielding some of the streets from the sun and, if Patton squinted hard enough, he could see actual detailed stitching and some stains of age. They passed buildings that had scratches and chisel marks, and Patton could clearly see that it was made from stone bricks that had been painted over. Twice, actually. Once with a very old and faded blue, then with a lighter cream that still let the blue show through in spots where the paint was gone. 

He wondered a little what had caused those spots. Was it because you weren’t supposed to layer house paint? The spots were different sizes — how many memories were made here? 

Patton stumbled, tripping over his thoughts and heels, and leaned more into Logan’s side.

Logan tugged at his arm. “Don’t ponder too hard, Patton,” his voice was soft, hushed to not draw attention.

They’d figured that the best thing to do was to not think about the world around them. Thinking too much about the world and specifically the things that they would affect about it made their focus wander onto fixing those things. Logan would get a headache, Patton would space out, and Deceit would….well, okay, Deceit hadn’t disclosed how and if he’d been affected. But Patton noticed he’d been sweating like a sinner in church, and how his fist would clench every so often, so it was clear that something was happening with Deceit. He didn’t want to force him to talk; honesty wasn’t Deceit’s strong suit.

The four Romans had agreed that that was the smartest decision; none of them nor all of them together were able to limit the Imagination enough. The Playwright had argued that, had Dragon and Damsel known that it was hurting the other Sides, then they would probably all have a unified thought enough to close up the unused worlds. But that would require discussing the entire matter with them, which, as the Thief pointed out, is “pretty fucking useless where they are now.” 

So the focus thing was their current strategy. Patton grinned at Logan. “Thanks for the reminder, Octo-cutie-pie,” he smiled wider as Logan blushed. 

“I–I’m–Octopi is the plural for octopus and there is only one of me,” Logan bit his lip, then patted Patton’s hand gently, “Thank you.”

Patton giggled, snuggling against Logan’s side briefly as they kept walking. They hadn’t actually talked about the whole love thing, hadn’t really established boundaries, but that seemed like a problem for tomorrow. 

Right now, they were all going across town, invitations in hand, to the ball. And, at the very specific right now, Patton was admiring the Playwright and the Artist’s handiwork. They’d worked together to make everyone’s outfits and he’d be a liar if he said they weren’t handsome and beautiful.

Patton himself was themed after a cat — a grey cat, but a cat nonetheless! His dress had a long train for a tail, made of shimmering silver tulle, the same as his poofy sleeves. The skirt went from his waist to the ground, with a built in flair in his corset at the waist. Like, all of it was sparkling, all three tiers of his skirt, which went from grey to black with an inner layer gradient of blue to grey. His favorite part were his gloves, though. Silver for the most part, but with soft circles on his palms and the tips of all his fingers. His own lil’ toe beans! 

Logan’s outfit was one of Patton’s favorites. His was themed after an octopus (“Known for their intelligence,” the Playwright had explained, face bright red as he tied Logan’s necktie into an Eldritch knot) with a dark blue blazer and slacks. He wore a vest that shimmered royal blue, with a white button down underneath. There was a piece of coral in his lapel where a flower would usually go, and his coat tails seemed to spiral in shapes that resembled an octopus’ arms. There were even rhinestone bubble decals on his shoulders, or suckers, if you wanted to interpret it that way. The Artist and the Playwright had a small argument about that.

He was dashing, in summation. Patton leaned his head against Logan’s shoulder. “Who knew the town was so big!” he said. 

“That’s actually on purpose,” the Playwright said from behind them, “It’s actually not so big as the castle is small, using the same foreshortening techniques used at the Disney theme parks to make Cinderella’s castle, or Sleeping Beauty’s castle depending on which park you’re at—”

“I think he means how far Picani’s office is from the castle, God Mod,” the Thief responded.

The Thief and Deceit were walking in front, swords drawn on the chance that they ran into any guards, and so that the Thief could critique Deceit’s sword fighting skills. Surprisingly, he’d taken to the weapon, something about it being good to have at his disposal while dealing with the Others. The Thief offered to make him one once this escapade was over. 

Or maybe it was an excuse for the Thief to keep touching Deceit’s hand. Because that was happening every so often. A lot more often than would be considered normal. 

It wasn’t like Deceit was complaining about the touching. It was more the other way around. The yearning for physical contact was frustrating, but neither of them were going to admit that they wanted to hold hands. Even though they’d confessed to at least caring about each other. 

“Oh,” the Playwright hummed.

“Cheer up, butter cup, I love hearin’ bout the forced perspective! The Disney parks are so~o~o fun,” the Bard sang out. “When’s the next time we get to go to California? Are we making a trip down to Anaheim? Can we PLEASE take a trip down to Anaheim!”

One of his arms was looped around the Playwright’s, while the other was looped around the Artist’s. They had settled on outfits that complemented each other’s, pulling from the same red and black color palette.

The Artist was the only of the trio in a suit, though his outfit could be considered the loudest. Buttoned down the middle with a high collar, half of his shirt was a solid black, while the other half was a diamond checkered pattern. All of the accents were gold, and his pants were half solid red and half checkered as well. Tonight, the Artist would be a jester. 

An improvement on his self-esteem, the Bard had thought. The Artist had said so, too, saying he’d be dressing like a joke. It...was nice to hear.

The Playwright had also gone with a more light-hearted outfit, pun completely intended. He was dressed as the queen of hearts, with an A-line skirt that skimmed the ground and was almost entirely a replica of the skirt worn by the Queen of Hearts in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland animated movie. His corset had a low scoop neckline with a long heart that stretched down from the neckline to the bottom of the waist. His sleeves were poofy, black with red stripes between. 

It was a deck of cards theme between the three of them. Honestly, they took a bit of solace in their three Musketeers situation. The Bard was dressed like a harlequin in a ball-dancing dress. His entire dress was checkered, a stiff corset traded for a looser fit bodice that was sinched at the waist by a thick black belt with a heart clip. Bits of tulle were attached to his wrists, ideal for dancing in, which was perfect for the plan. He and the Playwright had matching heart chokers, too. 

As he’d said earlier, “We cute.”

Neither the Artist nor the Playwright had argued, and they had yet to pull away from him holding their arms. Maybe they didn’t hate him. 

They didn’t! They were moving beyond all that! 

Because they had to get the Child back, and Virgil back, and save the Damsel and they had a plan. Actually, they should run through the plan again, because the Bard had already forgotten most of it. 

“Thief?” he called ahead. 

“Mhm?” 

“Can we run through the, uh,” they had a code word for it, shoot, what was it? Oh! Oh, right, “The waltz again?”

“Great Mona Lisa, Bard, how the fuck did you forget how to waltz?” the Artist groaned. “We’re going to a ball.”

“No, no, no, THE waltz,” the Bard nudged the Artist’s side with his elbow. 

The Artist shot him a small confused glare, but realization struck his face quick after. “Oh. Oh, that waltz. Yeah, uh,” he turned to the Playwright, who also seemed confused, then to the front again, “Before we get in, we should go over the waltz again.” 

The Thief and Deceit both stopped as well, fingers brushing once again. The Bard saw the motion and chuckled to himself. Sweet Chopin, they needed to just hold hands already. He could envision the love birds flying around their heads. 

He felt a smidge bad, though. After all, he was the lucky Roman who got to kiss Patton. 

Logan and Patton both turned back to them. Patton let go of Logan, then looked around. They weren’t quite at the castle yet; a side alley, wide enough for all of them to stand in and with ample trees, barrels, and an open door beside it would provide good cover. 

“Let’s go over there,” Patton grabbed Logan’s arm again and led them all into the alley. 

They grouped up into a small but tight circle, the Thief pulling them together. He was in a suit, and an ironic one at that. Originally his costume was intended for Deceit, but he suggested switching them, so that the Dragon would think he were Deceit while being less suspicious. He was themed after a snake, though the theming was less noticeable than the color palette; there were yellow sequins arranged in scale patterns across his black blazer’s forearms, and his vest was black as well, undershirt yellow, and bowtie black. It looked a little like a snazzed-up version of Deceit’s lawyer suit and, though he’d tell no one, the Thief loved the look.

Deceit had said it looked nice on him, too. The bowtie, specifically, but also the entire outfit, and also the Thief simply looked good — yeah, they were both kind of messes. Gone was the ability to seamlessly flirt, apparently.

Still, it was nice to see Deceit in something other than yellow for a change, too. He was dressed as a peacock, with no blazer but a side-cape that shimmered iridescent purple and green. Part of it had blue and green rhinestones inching up the shoulder, and his vest beneath was teal, while his undershirt was mint green. There were bands on his upper arms, keeping his shirt bunched back, that were dark blue. Even his ascot was an iridescent purple and blue. 

They leaned against each other in the huddle. Brown eyes trailed all around the group, meeting similar expressions of steely determination. 

They could do this. 

“Alright,” the Thief started, “For the first hour, we’re gonna scope out the room and surrounding rooms. Meet wherever the snacks are in pairs, alternating pairs, and spread details. Patton and I will go twice.”

“Because you and I are gonna peel off after the first hour to go get Virgil and the Child,” Patton said, meeting the Thief’s eyes.

The Thief nodded. He looked around at everyone — Deceit and the Bard had both been fairly defensive about that choice, but he argued that they needed people who were good at causing distractions on the floor. Patton would be the best at comforting both Virgil and the Child, and the Thief was the only one who had any inkling of what the inside of the castle looked like. 

He continued. “Right. We’re gonna try to get out and—”

“Say, what d’ya think that’d make us?” Patton asked, a tiny grin on his face. 

“Oh, no,” Logan groaned, “Not—”

“Cat burglars!” Patton exclaimed with a giggle. 

The Bard immediately broke out into a fit of giggles, leaning into Deceit a little as he did so. Deceit just rolled his eyes and patted the Bard’s back, letting him cling to his side. 

The Artist stifled some chuckles of his own, and the Playwright grinned. Oh. Oh, no, not the idea grin. 

“I think Dragon will be hard pressed to find flaws in our purr-fect plan,” he said, eyes shining as Patton laughed as well. “We’re just gonna have to distract him with our adorable kitty-Pat.”

Logan groaned again, in good humor this time. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side, Playwright,” he grumbled. 

The Playwright immediately sobered up, mouth pressing into a line. “Ah, Logan, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Hey, but,” the Bard raised a finger at the Playwright, smile wide and mischievous, “If he catches wind of anything, you, Artist, and I can pull a wild card and deck him.”

That got the Artist and Patton to both laugh aloud, and even Logan smiled a tiny bit at the Playwright, if only to reassure him that his frustration was not directed at him.  

The Thief seemed actually annoyed, though. He snapped his fingers in the center of the circle. “C’mon, focus here. Patton and I are going to get Virgil and the Child, then we’re going to come back up to the ball room at the second hour. At that point, Deceit—”

“I’ll be dancing with Dragon and, once you’re back, I’ll be distracting him enough for you to get out,” Deceit waved his hand, also slightly exasperated. He wanted Virgil back immediately and, as the time to pull off their hest approached, he grew more nervous.

“Right. Then, Playwright will take you backstage once everyone else has filed out,” the Playwright nodded to the Thief regarding his involvement, and the Thief looked around the group once more, “All of that sound good? Everyone else, be on the look out for Damsel. We don’t know where he’s gonna be. If he’s out on the ball floor, Logan, you—”

“I will approach him and explain that we are here to get him out,” Logan grimaced, “If he is not on the ball floor….”

“Then I’ll be on standby to head into the dungeons,” the Artist said, smile deflated, brow furrowed in thought.

“Good,” the Thief patted his shoulder, gripping reassuringly, “And if Remus is there, then Bard is going into the dungeons with Patton and I’m staying in the ball room to kick his ass.”

“This all sounds like a plan, Thief,” the Bard said, smiling at him, “Logan, thoughts?”

Logan huffed, frowning at the ground. He’d rolled the details over in his mind a few times, so he’d already worked out some of the issues, such as the irrationality of the original plan’s “jump out the dungeon’s windows, really, how large are the windows, and how do we know it’s not underground.” For right now, it seemed as though the plan were efficacious, but they couldn’t be certain until it was enacted. 

But at that point, it’d be too late to change the plan to any degree of impeccability. They would have to wing it. And Logan wasn’t a fan of that. 

But what choice did they have?

“It is as detailed and as faultless as we can arrange for it to be currently,” he said.

The Thief’s mouth twitched into a slight grimace, but he nodded all the same. That was as optimistic as he would be. “Once this is all over, we meet at the tree as fast as we all can get there,” the Thief said, casting one more look around, “If we pull this off right, no one’ll be leaving alone. If your partner gets injured, you carry them to the tree.”

“I don’t think….” the Artist said, frowning a tiny bit as his voice trailed off. 

The possibility of injury was very high, actually. Death for the Romans, at least. And they didn’t know if the Dragon had injured Virgil or the Child. To be honest, they didn’t know if the Child was alive. Oh, goodness, what if Dragon had killed him? 

“It’s gonna work,” the Bard said, “It’s gonna.” 

He squeezed the Artist’s arm and gave him a nod. It was going to be okay. Roman was optimistic by nature, and the Artist did crave that sort of positivity. 

“It must,” Deceit affirmed none too positively. 

“It will,” Patton said, smiling at them all again before clapping, “And break!”

Everyone stood up on instinct. Then, they all shared slight laughs, small smiles.

The Bard leaned over and hugged Deceit with an arm, reciprocated a little. Patton leaned against the Artist, who didn’t hug back, but also didn’t flinch finally. 

They were getting somewhere. It was going to be okay. 

It was going to be okay. 

….Without Virgil, they all felt as though their optimism was naively placed. But that was why they were going to get him back! 

Once he was back, Deceit thought, he was never letting go again. If he was back. No, no, once he was back. He was coming back soon. 

“Let’s go,” the Thief pulled his mask out from his coat, a black half-face mask covered in yellow sequins arranged like scales.

Everyone shared looks, nodding to each other as they slid on their own masks. Logan, Patton, the Artist, and the Playwright all had special masks that mimicked their glasses prescriptions so they wouldn’t need contacts, too. With faces obscured, they nodded once more, squeezing arms in reassurance and patting backs and giving smiles, and hurried out of the alley. 

The Playwright walked at the front of the group, the only one not paired to any Side. He looked up at the sky. A storm had grown, clouds angry and grey above the castle, which was only a few blocks away now. Perhaps it would thunder during the ball. 

He wondered vaguely what had caused the sudden shift in weather. During their week alone, it was all sunny skies. 

Was it….

No. No, no part of Roman was that desperate, to have gone to Remus. Right? He’d been telling himself that ever since they’d begun this game, but the darker their future seemed, the more he worried about the Duke’s involvement. 

The Thief seemed to think it was very real, enough to have a back-up written into the plan. C’est la vie. Such was life, he thought, the show must go on.

They walked quietly for only a few minutes. The closer they got to the castle, the more Imagination inhabitants they saw walking around them, some in pairs, some in groups, some alone. Everyone was in costume, most intricate. Good. This would be good, for coverage. The Thief had been a little worried that the ball would be sparsely attended, but this was good. 

It was going to be okay. 

They approached the drawbridge. Patton leaned against the Artist, gripping his arm tighter as the wind picked up. The Thief and Deceit were stoic behind them, and Logan and the Bard were simply quiet, though their hands were interlaced tight. It was going to be okay.

A line had formed on the bridge, in front of one man in a suit, perhaps the medieval equivalent of a bouncer. The group shuffled into the line, looking around at the castle, at the moat (“I think it’s filled with alligators,” the Bard murmured to Logan, who shook his head and was about to respond that that didn’t make sense, until an alligator’s maw jumped up and snatched a low-flying bird) and at the sky. 

Angry, angry clouds. 

It took an excruciatingly long eleven minutes for the Playwright to finally reach the front of the line, but when he did, he immediately grinned. He had to hand it to the Dragon. 

“May I see your invitation?” Zac Efron asked, dressed in a black butler’s outfit.

Bless the Imagination’s castings. The Playwright handed over his invitation, and Zac looked over a list in his other hand before handing back the invitation and checking off a name. “You may enter to the ball room,” he motioned to the door. 

The Playwright curtsied and hurried in. Behind him was the Artist and Patton, both of whom gasped a little, becau se holy shit, it’s Zac Efron. 

The Dragon was really out here casting Thomas’ celebrity crushes as butlers. It was the first thing that the Artist had wholly agreed with the Dragon on, actually. Once they were Roman, they were going to have to look into that as a possibility. 

One by one, each entered, walking down a grand hall with a ceiling so high and so vaulted that there seemed to be a sky inside. But, then again, there probably was. This was the Imagination. It looked somewhat like the Great Hall from the Harry Potter movies, this time shining with stars and constellations. 

Logan could identify Aries and Pieces. That was actually accurate for the season and hour, so he gave a mental kudos to Roman for his design, then considered if it were his knowledge that had been used to perfect the stars. Well. That was inconsequential, I guess?

The hall was also lined with suits of armor, and bannisters adorned with Roman’s full crest. Though, Deceit noticed while he walked through, the entire crest was outlined in gold and the castle in the center was colored with grey and brown and black. He thought the Dragon was only supposed to be the outer tower and walls. If the Dragon called all of the shots around here, then why was the center tower also colored?

The walk was long, heels clacking against the stone. They turned with the carpet to the left and entered through a pair of double doors that had to be at least two floors high. 

Inside was life. The room was massive, stretching almost the size of a football field. There was a stage near the entrance door where there were musicians (with undetailed faces, Deceit noticed) were playing loud enough to echo across the room. The dance floor seemed to take up about half the room. 

Farther away from the entrance were some circle tables, arranged around with some citizens already sitting down. Further back were some long tables, food stacked atop them, and even further….

The throne was elevated so the Dragon could see across the hall to the dance floor. The Thief’s fists clenched immediately upon seeing him wearing the Prince’s attire, white uniform a stark contrast to the black he was typically adorned with. It was a jarring difference. 

He was taunting them. By Doc Holliday’s pistol, they were gonna take him down.

Beside his throne was a large Ottoman seat, where there was another figure. The Damsel, most likely, though his face was obscured by a sheer red veil and distance. He was wearing a large dress, which had a triple-tiered skirt that seemed to flare out orange, then red, then black. His corset was decorated with red and orange and yellow rhinestones, and raised behind his head. It almost looked like flames. 

Burned. The Damsel’s scars were also entirely visible, scabs on his arms angry and red, clearly not fully healed. They weren’t openly bleeding, but the Playwright could tell that they would start bleeding at some point in the night. 

His nose scrunched as he examined the pair. They didn’t seem to notice him, the Damsel leaning against the throne’s side and not moving, the Dragon stroking his chin and looking across the hall absently. He had a sword sheathed beside the throne, too, with its handle sticking up in an easily accessible manner. 

He was waiting for them, he realized. Of course he was, this was a trap, you fool. You knew this. You’d planned. It was going to be okay.

The Playwright turned back to the group just as the last pair, Logan and the Bard, entered. 

“Okay. I am going to move toward the snack table,” he nodded toward the thrones, “Octopus, would you like to join me?”

Logan let go of the Bard, who curtsied and stepped back, and then offered a hand to the Playwright. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, “How about we acquire a table, Hearts?”

The Playwright nodded, then shot the Thief a look. “Snake,” he said, a promise, a warning, “Let’s waltz.” 

“Let’s,” the Thief responded, squeezing Deceit’s arm. 

The Bard and Patton had already taken each other onto the dance floor, hoping to not be conspicuously waiting in a group by the door way, and the Artist was meandering around — nope, no, he just asked an Imagination citizen to dance. Blending in well. 

Operation save Virgil and the Child was a go. 

Virgil could hear the faint music from above. He squinted up, then closed his eyes and exhaled. What’d that matter? 

His side was throbbing. It seemed that just wrapping a bandage around a wound did fuck all to stop it from hurting, or bleeding, especially if it was just wrapped once and around the front. Virgil would have to remember that for the next time he got stabbed by an evil Dragon, he thought snidely. 

He and the Child had relocated themselves to the bed. Pretending to not be panicking was tiring, but luckily for him, the Child had fallen asleep. 

He sniffed quietly, rubbing his eye with the butt of his palm. For the past half an hour, ever sine the Child fell asleep, Virgil had been silently crying. And there was no Damsel to conjure him a glass of water or tell him it’d be okay. Because he knew it wasn’t going to be okay. 

Even if he didn’t die in the Imagination, he’d be exiting it alone. And that was fine! 

The Child snuggled closer to his chest, tiny arms wrapped around him. Virgil sniffed again and hugged him tight. 

If he did nothing else, he’d at least protect this Roman. 

He wished he’d at least told Roman how he felt. 

Maybe he’d never get the chance. 

Gosh, this was really fatalistic, even for him. It wasn’t like he was gonna die in the Imagination. 

Virgil shielded his eyes with an arm and, as illogical as it was, wished that he could use that one arm motion to block out the sounds of the ball going on above. Shit, he was gonna die in the Imagination. 

….Usually that’d freak him out a bit more. Maybe he’d bled out to the point where he was too tired to be worried. And, maybe it was childish, but he really did want to dance with Roman. 

taglists!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom

general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne

[wisepuma23]

The Butterfly’s Shelter Chapter 3

First Chapter - Previous Chapter

Notes: 

puma - okay okay this is late! I know >.< But gosh darn it I made it longer so it’s worth the wait!! And a big round of applause for Tashi to draw two wonderful illustrations for this chapter. And her writing helped <33 So much!! Also, shout out to @my-happy-little-bean and @sher-soc-the-famder for being my betas for this chapter!! Love them. Also, I’m not going to make promises for the next chapter, but I do think it’s gonna be around the end of November. Hopefully! Also, I’m trying out a taglist so let me know if you want to be on it! 

Tashi - I had so much fun working on this chapter and doing the illustrations for it! Thank you to the betas and for you followers who have been so patient! Also shout out to Puma cause they're always reminding me when my illustrations are inconsistent to what's in the fic so I can fix them! I appreciate it so much!

Warnings: Language, Minor Injury

Read on AO3

Logan opened his eyes to a wide blue sky. Grass waved in his vision as blurry confusion took hold of him. Where was he? Logan groaned as he sat up, clutching his head. Any knowledge he had slipped through his fingers. He rubbed his eyes as the wind whistled through the yellow grass in all directions.

He was in the middle of nowhere.

Fear clutched his heart as he stood up. Grass stretched to the horizon, no matter how much he spun around, the sight of fields in all directions. This...this wasn’t right! Logan’s mind raced as he took in the idyllic scenery. It was something straight out of one of Roman’s storybooks. But there were no houses. No cars. Nothing but the faint buzz of insects and the flowers.

‘Where...where was home?’

I want to go home.

Logan stumbled from the wave of homesickness that almost overtook him. This wasn’t home, but where was home? He...he didn’t remember.

God, I can’t be lost.

Logan patted his pockets but he had no phone, no compass, and certainly no money. The sun! Yes, the sun was important.

Logan blinked up at the wide open blue skies again. Birds flew up so high that they were nothing more than black dots. His world tilted as he saw himself from a bird’s eye. Small, unassuming, and a black dot in a yellow field that stretched to infinity. Nausea made his legs weak and with a thud, he fell down to the grass. The wind whipped through his hair as existential dread crawled up his spine and whispered in his ear.

You’re inconsequential.

Tiny in the grand design.

How can you ever be a good parent to--

Logan blinked. To who? He racked his brain. A name on the tip of his tongue. A knot of anger twisted in his chest as the name slipped through his fingers. Failed memory retrieval.

Logan pulled on his hair, an old habit from his formative years; pain pain pain. Who?! He almost yanked a fistful out when--

The sky shook.

Logan looked up to see a bright light streaking across the sky. Distant rumbling disturbed the quiet peace of the fields. A star! Logan walked forward as he followed the trails of dust scattered in the atmosphere. In one blink to the next, the sky went dark. Then, thousands of stars lit up the sky; but Logan only had eyes for one.

A star was falling.

Logan broke out into a run. Leaves and twigs broke under his shoes as the wind’s whistling grew louder. The rumbling in his ears marched like a heartbeat. He had to catch it! Logan held out his arms as he chased the star streaking far overhead. Questions wracked his brain as his breaths grew short.

All stars had names.

Logan looked up at the glittering constellations, vainly hoping to see an empty spot; was it Sirius? A or B? Canopus, Vega, Rigel?

‘No’, his gut answered, ‘that isn’t his name’. Polaris, Pollux, or even Alpha Centauri?

No, no, what was his name?! Think, think, think!! Remember.

The tip of his tongue burned with the word! If only he could find the empty space it left behind. Yet all the stars in Orion’s Belt, both Ursas, and in the Zodiacs were still there, offering him no clues to the star’s identity.

A wolf’s cry split the night. Invisible teeth nipped at his heels as the grass rustled with more wolves. The star grew brighter until it outshone all the others as it careened down further to the horizon in front of him. A hill rose up in the distance. Logan ran but he couldn’t outrun the wolves. They licked their chops as they stared up at the falling star.

No, no, he’s mine.

Logan snarled as he pushed ahead. Run, run, run! His thoughts were racing faster than him; if he jumped from the hill, he could catch him. Before wolves could ensnare the little celestial in their wide smiles and bury him in a place where no star could shine.

The hill rose up before him; so close! He outstretched his hands upwards.

Suddenly, he felt teeth tearing into his shins. He let out a scream as he crumpled to the ground. Jagged rocks bit into his arms as his shins burned with sparks.

Logan craned his head upwards towards the glittering star, the light refracting in his broken glasses. A heavy breath panted down the back of his neck. A stench of animal permeated the air as saliva dripped down his collar.

Logan raised a shaking hand up to the star as three wolves rushed past him. There was no time. Run, run, run away!

“Virgil!” Logan screamed before sharp teeth clamped around his throat.

.

.

.

His eyes snapped open as he clutched his throat. Confusion roiled through his mind as he felt smooth skin under his fingers instead.

A nightmare…

Logan drew in a shuddering breath as he leaned forward on the couch as he rubbed his temple. He’d never had one so vivid before. Logan didn’t take much stock in dreams; they were nothing more than hogwash and subconscious mutterings.

Logan took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He breathed in through his nose until his chest loosened.

The sound of the floorboards creaking echoed in his ears, and his head snapped up at the sound.

Standing in front of him was his sheepish best friend, frozen in place. His sunglasses almost slipping off his nose.

Logan glanced up at the clock; was it really Thursday already? Logan shook his head as Nate came closer and handed him a piping hot cup of green tea.

“How long have you been waiting?” Logan said as he took the cup. “I didn’t mean to sleep in so late.”

“.....Ten minutes,” Nate said, looking over his sunglasses with soulful brown eyes. “And you look like hell for a guy who slept till noon.”

“Five hours,” Logan murmured to himself. “A new record…”

Nate’s eyes narrowed as he pushed his sunglasses over his head.

“Please tell me you aren’t sleeping less than the recommended six to eight hours of sleep. Insomnia can be fatal.”

Logan quirked a smile.

“Perhaps in your shows, but you know I don’t have a history of chronic insomnia. It’s a rare disorder after all,” Logan took a sip of his tea, his shoulders relaxing as it settled in his stomach. “Virgil is the cause, and the only treatment is time. I’ll be fine.”

Nate raised an eyebrow at him.

Logan let out an exhausted exhale as he held his teacup tighter. Scrutiny always made his skin itch and led to him feeling a few sizes too small.

He pushed the memory of his father’s disappointed glare out of his mind. Nate wasn’t his father. Even if his observance skills were off the charts, his eyes held more kindness than his parents ever did. They weren’t awful by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren’t paradigms of greatness either.

“So, Daddio–” Logan snapped out of his thoughts as Nate sat next to him with a soft smile– “when will I see my godson, huh?”

Logan coughed on his gulp of scalding tea. “Oh, excuse me. Yes, we can go see him. His name is Virgil.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nate said as he helped Logan up from the couch. “You don’t shut up about him. His name was the first thing you said to me two days ago and it took you five minutes to stop gushing to tell me who Virgil was. Also you send blurry pictures of your son at 3 AM. And at 9 am. And at--”

Logan adjusted his half-made tie. “I may have gone overboard. Apologies.”

Nate threw off his leather coat onto a table to reveal a loose muscle shirt with dog tags clinking around his perpetually tanned neck. He waved away Logan’s apology like he never minded it at all in the first place. Logan pushed opened Virgil’s bedroom door a crack and then held up a finger to Nate. Quiet.

Logan padded over to Virgil’s bassinet and the exhaustion in his bones ebbed at the peaceful expression on Virgil’s face. His hair stuck up in all directions like a dark halo. His little fingers twitching in his sleep and the tiny little puffs from his tiny lungs paff paff paff in perfect rhythm...

Logan gently picked him up and almost sighed in relief that he hadn’t woken up. Nate watched him with wide eyes as Logan walked over to him.

“Here,” Logan whispered, and held back a laugh of dark amusement at Nate’s sudden anxiety. “Support his head with the crook of your arm and hold him close.”

“Okay, oKAY!” Nate said as he held Virgil in the crook of his defined arms. “Shit, I didn’t mean to be loud. Sorry, I should stop cursing around a baby. He’s just so fudging cute.”

Logan smirked. “Fuck.”

He muffled his laugh at Nate’s face.

“He won’t talk so soon,” he added, almost reassuringly.

“I don’t know,” Nate whispered as he ran a finger over Virgil’s face. “He’ll be as smart as his daddy. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he talks early.”

The tips of Logan’s ears burned at the praise, "We aren't biologically related."

Nate turned around with a smirk. "Like biological parents make any sort of difference. How they raise you– that makes a difference."

Logan held out his arms to take Virgil again, and Nate readily set Virgil back into Logan's waiting arms once more. Virgil sniffled in his sleep. Logan let out a breath, thankful that Virgil hadn't woken up. Logan set Virgil back onto his bassinet and pushed aside his wispy hair to kiss his head.

"Sweet dreams, son."

Virgil gurgled out a sleepy giggle.

These two minutes of pure bliss made up for the rest of the day's hard work of cleaning, changing, and feeding Virgil. Having a baby was no easy task. There were no allocated break times and sleep was inconsistent at best. Logan ran a hand through his greasy hair as he gestured to Nate to leave. Logan left the bedroom door open a crack in case Virgil cried. Even if he had the baby monitor, Logan preferred to be cautious.

Logan crossed his arms as they came to a stop. Nate rested a hand on Logan's arm, gentle and heartfelt. He looked away from Nate's all too piercing eyes. His best friend's remarkable intellect is how they became friends in the first place. However, it made him too perceptive when it came to things like this.

Nate knew Logan was in love before he even knew himself.

"Something is bothering you," Nate said, not even phrased as a question in the slightest of ways. "Spit it out."

Logan shifted in place and then craned upwards to meet Nate's eyes. He rubbed his neck as he sighed. No use dragging it out.

"I had a nightmare," Logan explained. "But it was nothing. Dreams are nonsensical mutterings and it would bore you and--"

"Logan."

Logan huffed out a breath, "Fine."

Nate guided Logan to the couch as Logan told him everything. Nate winced as his dear friend described the teeth at the end. Logan rubbed his arms; he didn't believe in hidden messages in dreams, but Nate had a way of interpreting them into meaningful advice. But it always started with…

"Did you drink water today?" Nate asked with one arm on the back of the couch.

"...No."

"And you haven't been sleeping right," Nate tsked. "Babe, you need to eat and sleep right. Wait, when was the last time you ate?"

"...I can’t remember."

"Sonova--" Nate clasped his hands in front of his face and then dropped it. "LOGAN!" He pulled out a lollipop from a pocket and popped it into Logan's mouth.

"Suck on this. It's cherry, your favorite, and I'll whip up some breakfast."

Logan's eyes widened then took the lollipop out to say. "It's noon."

Nate pushed his wrist to put the lollipop back in. "Time isn't real. But your bad eating habits are."

The sweet flavor of chemical cherry burst on his tongue. Logan sucked on it and immediately his hunger pangs ebbed away. It wouldn't be enough, but judging by Nate's march to the kitchen, he knew that he wouldn't need to wait much longer for real food.

A soft smile grew despite his own attempt to stamp it down. No one told him a side effect of having a son would be smiling much more.

His own mother certainly didn't exhibit the same symptoms.

Logan's smile disappeared. So much for smiling more.

Nate came back with a platter of buttered toast and milk. Logan took the tray with a grateful nod.

"Stress," Nate said as he took a bite from Logan's toast. "That's what your dream meant."

"But what about--"

"It's stress, baby!"

"The wolves---"

Nate shook his head with a cocky grin. "Stress wolves. Come on, when I ever been wrong?"

Logan shook his head, "You need to work on your cockiness."

"And you with your pride."

"Touche." Logan conceded with a nod. He took a bite of his toast, slathered with a heavy helping of Crofters jam, and the taste possessed him. Logan dug into his breakfast like a madman. One bite after another until nothing left but crumbs littered his plate. Nate laughed at the sticky jam around Logan’s face. He raised a napkin and wiped the jam off as Logan grumbled at his manhandling.

“Mmmph!” Logan glared at him, “You need to know the definition of boundaries. I am not an infant.”

Nate laughed a hearty sound from the depths of his stomach, and pulled Logan in for a hug, despite Logan’s incessant squirming. Logan giggled out protests as Nate’s strong arms encircled him; unfortunately, there was nothing to stop Nate’s affections. Logan laid breathless on Nate’s chest as he let a fuzzy feeling overtake him.

He’s never felt happier with a son sleeping in another room, his best friend hugging the daylights out of him, and as he snuggled deeper, the dread of Playdate Saturday faded away.

Logan sat in the driveway, fiddling with the keys, unable to turn them in the ignition. Virgil gurgled around a blue pacifier as he kicked in his car seat. Logan wondered what dreams went through his son's head. No, incorrect, dreams were illogical and nonsensical. However, he did wonder if Virgil had nightmares. Logan's insides froze, what if he had nightmares from the fire?

Logan shook his head, no; he spent every waking moment with him and he would've noticed if Virgil had distressing dreams. And he couldn't escape the feeling that his worry over this simple detail was nothing more than a distraction from what truly ate him up.

Patton's bakery was only a ten-minute drive at the edges of the market district. Yet Logan sat in his car and waited for any burst of courage to go face his best friend.

He watched his fingers glide along the wheel of the car, hyper-focused on the grounding texture. Logan bit back a sigh of frustration at his own cowardice. He knew Patton; he knew his kind smile, his eagerness, his excitability, and his deeply soulful eyes. He knew Patton like his own mind. Perhaps it was those very eyes he feared. Seeing his deep and bright blue eyes staring at him with, what? Shock? Confusion? Anger?

Patton’s kindness swelled from him with no end and tended to be very open-minded. He never hurt a soul in his life. So why did Logan’s palms sweat at the idea of telling him about Virgil? He could just get them both back into the house and call him first but what would he even say?

Why did this have to be so hard?

Then again, Logan did miss seeing Roman and his toothy grin. The kid was adorable too. However, the cardboard sword Roman made himself less so. He carried it everywhere, even to kindergarten, and Logan suffered many 'defeats' at the end of it. Five years of existence had done nothing to extinguish his bundle of energy. Perhaps in ten years, Roman would be less... dramatic.

The click of his seatbelt surprised him; he hadn't even realized that while lost in thoughts, the ice in his bones disappeared.

Logan looked up in the rearview mirror one last time to see Virgil properly strapped in. He looked far too tiny in the red car seat. The belts were fine but were they? Logan's fingers thrummed the wheel and with an exasperated sigh he clicked off his seatbelt again. He turned around and leaned into the backseat to check Virgil's straps for what must have been the umpteenth time. Luck favored the cautious after all.

Logan smiled at the outfit he had picked out for Virgil. It was a striped white and green onesie with a hoodie with two horns sewn on it. Daddy's Little Monster was written across it in a dark cursive script. There weren't many choices in the clearance aisle, but most were for upcoming holidays such as Halloween. Objectively, Logan had to say it looked cute on him. Positively adorable.

Logan pulled on the straps and breathed out as it didn't give. Good. That was good… Logan kissed Virgil's forehead and then settled himself back in the front. He clicked his belt back on. Now to turn the ignition on.

Now, to turn it on.

His thoughts drifted back to the memory of Roman's bright grin as he made grabby hands for Logan to pick him up.

The engine growled to life. Logan winced at the sound and resisted the urge to turn it back off. It would damage the ignition over time if he frivolously turned it off and on to his every nervous whim. Logan changed gears and reversed out of his parking spot. He pulled out of the parking lot and well on his way to Patton’s bakery.

Ten minutes later, Logan pulled into the parking lot of Patton’s bakery. Bright pink and blue umbrellas glowed against the backdrop of the grey sky. Logan turned the knob down to quiet the weather report on how it’d rain tomorrow. And the day after that. Logan turned the ignition off and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding at the sudden silence.

Logan looked up at the neon shine of a pink cupcake with rainbow sprinkles adorned over the bakery. Milena’s Treats, it read in purple cursive below. Pink light spilled onto the dash of his car from the sign, soft rays catching on the bumps of his knuckles. A corner of his lip curled at the sight, if it were any brighter, Logan wouldn’t be surprised if the ungodly glow could be seen from space.

Logan craned his head over his shoulder to glance at Virgil one last time. He hadn’t woken up yet. He looked down at the car clock, three in the afternoon, a time when Virgil commonly fell asleep. His old routine had gone up in flames, and died screaming, so it stood to reason to create a new one around Virgil’s. He found that he didn’t mind the thought at all.

“We’re going to go see your...uncle,” Logan said as he unclicked his belt, “I’m sure you’ll love him. All the kids do, or at least, more than me.”

Logan stepped out of his car with a brown tote bag on one shoulder full of the usual supplies. He shut the door with a gentle click. Then opened the door to the back and picked up Virgil gingerly from his car seat and into his arms. Virgil’s little hands twitched against his dark purple sweater vest and his pacifier cool against his collarbone. Unable to resist, he pulled the hoodie up over Virgil’s head against the slight chill of the fall day.

Logan locked the door with a jingle of his keys. Once. Twice. Then three times to ensure the memory of his car being locked secured in his head. Logan rubbed Virgil’s back in circles as he walked toward the bakery doors. He stopped dead as he saw himself reflected in the windows. God, what even was his hair?

Logan wore a rumpled white dress shirt under his vest and he had rolled up his sleeves. Better to test milk bottles that way. Dark bags under his eyes was a new permanent fixation, no matter how many times Nate texted him the past week about better sleeping habits. Logan looked down and let out a sigh at the new spot of drool as Virgil slept against his chest. Another shirt to throw in the wash when he got home.

Logan didn’t look his best. A vast understatement on his part, no doubt. It mattered not, Logan needed to introduce Patton to his new son, Virgil Crofters.

A burst of giddiness bloomed at the back of his mind, far more subdued than the first time he held Virgil, but no doubt the shock will settle in eventually.

Surely so.

Logan took in a breath and opened the door. A bell ringed his arrival and the sound was enough for Virgil to grumble in his sleep. He knew babies slept deeply but he hadn’t realized they slept like the dead. He certainly didn’t get that impression when Roman at this age woke at every jolt and jingle and certainly had trouble believing it when Virgil spent half the night crying for Logan to feed him, change him and fetch his dropped pacifier. Logan shook his head, better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he should count himself lucky he slept for four hours straight today.

The chatter of customers were quiet. Logan came after the lunch rush so he didn’t distract Patton from his job more than necessary. His eyes scanned around the bakery: more empty tables than taken, but no sight of his best friend. Kitchen, then.

Logan drifted to the counter as he rang the bell, “Patton?”

The back of his neck burned with the weight of heavy stares. Babies often garnered attention but he couldn’t help but shift in place. The chatter slipped into furtive whispers.

“Patton?” Logan called out again, “Are you there?”

The kitchen doors whooshed open as Patton walked backward out with his hands full of a fresh batch of sugar cookies. The frosting was an eye-searing orange that Logan squinted at. Patton had a sweet tooth even if it killed him someday. Patton opened the glass counter with his hips and pushed it in under the soft golden lights.

“One second Lolo!” Patton said, his pink tongue sticking out in concentration, “I didn’t realize the Spooky Sugar cookies would sell out so fast.”

“It’s September.”

Patton stood up, his smile wide.

“It’s never too early for Hallowe--whOA!” Patton paused in what he was doing and took off his oven mitts, placing them on the counter. His lips curled into a smile and he leaned over the display case, reaching his hand forward.

“Babysitting today?” Patton cooed. Logan took an instinctive step back from him. Patton glanced up at him, crestfallen, but moved back down to finish the display of cookies in the case. He wiped a few bat-shaped sprinkles off the plate to make it neater and popped them into his mouth, but he turned to pop one of the leftover cookies into a cute little bag and handed it to a woman who had been standing nearby waiting patiently for her order.

“Have a wonderfully spooky day!” Patton called after her and then wiped his hands on his apron and looked back at Logan. His crestfallen expression gone like it was never there. Patton turned to Logan with a smile bright enough that Logan almost believed it was real.

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled lightly, “so Logan, who’s this little fellow here?”

Logan faltered, “Uh, uhm. This is…”

Patton’s smile faded a little as he looked between Virgil and up at Logan, and it struck Logan that he might be perplexed at his continuing hesitation. He reached out a hand over the counter again; Logan leaned back on his heels. Hurt crossed Patton’s features before a new smile stretched over it, not quite reaching his eyes. Guilt and shame twisted Logan's stomach at knots. Here it comes.

He… he never meant to hurt him. Especially for a lie that had lasted for the past two years. Logan swallowed past the thickness in his throat.

“Patton, this….” It was now or never. Logan had to face this reality and Patton deserved to know. If he held back now they'd never truly be friends. He had to do this.

“This–” He let out a steadying breath– “is Virgil Crofters.” Logan didn’t even attempt to hide his smile as he said the words. “I adopted him last Sunday. He’s my son.”

Patton's face grew ashen as his jaw dropped. A strange sort of croaking fell out from his lips. It was a good thing he'd set the trays down already because he looked like he would have dropped them flat on the floor.

Patton shook his head as if he didn't believe it. He came around the counter and sat onto a stool and ran flour-covered hands through his brown curls. Logan grimaced at the action, no doubt he had to wash his hair later after that….

"What?" Patton whispered, and the sound broke Logan's heart with how much hurt there seemed to be beneath it. "Logan, what?"

Logan opened his mouth to try and speak when a loud sniffle broke his train of thought. Awake and sniffling, Virgil dug his face into his collarbone. He seemed to detect the tense atmosphere. Another thing that Logan had observed over their first week together: when frightened, Virgil clung onto him for dear life. Logan bounced him gently and rubbed his back.

"Shush, it's okay," Logan said, his voice neutral and serious in his low drawl, "Daddy is here. I got you."

Virgil blinked up at him with those grey eyes. Logan smiled as Virgil's hoodie fell down from the action. His cheeks looked rosier than the sickly color he first saw. Perhaps Virgil was recovering from Colic faster than he thought? He had read papers, articles, and even doctors’ case files on the illness and it was rare but not impossible. He rather hoped Virgil had a faster recovery than most because he wouldn’t be in constant pain anymore.

"Oh my goodness gracious." Patton had his hands over his mouth. "You aren't pulling my leg."

"Uh, no…?" Logan said, "And why would I pull your leg? What goal does that achieve? Would that not hurt?"

Logan covered Virgil's ears in time to shield Patton's high pitch squeal that made every dog bark in a ten block radius. Patton bounced in place as he threw around a million questions too quick for Logan to process. Virgil looked up at him and Logan rolled his eyes in return. Truly, why did he love this man?

Virgil giggled, a sort of laugh that tinkled like bells and was as light as a feather. He couldn't look away from the sight. His son's first laugh; among the thousands of the words in the English language, only one was enough. Wow...

"Oh my gosh!"

The two of them flinched. "Inside voices, Patton."

Logan looked up and he froze at the expression on Patton's face. His eyes sparkled alight as his hands were held up in his patented too cute, I'm going to die pose. If Patton sparkled any brighter, he would outshine his garish sign outside. Logan never felt so much like an exposed wire and wished he wore a tie or even a binder labeled "Taxes". He floundered as he gathered up Virgil closer as a shield.

"CUTE CUTE CUTE!!!" Patton hopped around Logan; he already had his phone out and the shutter went off every second. "God, Virgil is such a cutie pie!! Aren't you?" Patton cooed as he snapped another. "Yes you areeee, yes you are!! So handsome like his father."

Patton looked down at his phone, "Oh wow, you sure he's adopted?"

"What do you mean?"

Patton held up his phone to show him, "Both of you got the same look of utter contempt. Boy, he doesn't like the camera either. Like father like son!" His grinning was terribly insufferable.

Virgil squinted in the photo, his grey eyes held a piercing glare. While Logan squinted in much the same way. He never did like candid photos. Much more stressful than a scheduled photo like for his driver's license. Patton tapped at his phone and within a few moments later, Logan heard a buzz from his back pocket.

He mentally noted to save it as his new lock screen later.

Patton came closer and held out a finger to Virgil, "Awww, he's such a cute little bean!"

Virgil burst into tears and wailed. The customers flinched and some Logan could see were covering their ears. Patton winced and gestured for Logan to come behind the counter and into the kitchens. Logan bounced Virgil and shushed him quietly as they followed Patton inside.

Patton brushed his fingers against the small of Logan's back as he led them to a soft chair at the far back next to a spiral staircase upstairs. The touch burned in its wake. His face heated up as he took the seat with a grateful nod. Patton had a habit of giving Logan heart palpitations without him ever realizing he did so. Curse him.

Virgil wept against Logan's shoulder. "It will be alright, little starlight. Daddy's here," Logan rubbed his back in the hopes he relieved some of his boy's pain, "It's just Patton."

Logan squinted into Virgil's shiny eyes for any cloudiness of pain. Perhaps it was his Colic acting up, even if he's been recovering steadily. Logan bounced him on his knee as he talked to him. Patton went upstairs for a few minutes then came back down with something hidden behind his back.

"Hey there, Virgil." Patton cooed as he kneeled in between Logan's legs, Logan refused to acknowledge it even as he seared the image in his brain for later, "Look what I got you!"

Patton waved a stuffed lion in front of Virgil. The surprise was enough to startle Virgil out of crying. Logan pulled out a tissue from his pocket and wiped Virgil of snot and tears. His son scrunched his face up at the action. He would have to deal with it; cleanliness and hygiene were paramount to healthy living.

Virgil cooed as he reached out to grab the lion. His little fingers outstretched and had total faith in his dad's strong grip to hold him steady. Patton held it out to him as Virgil grabbed an ear of the lion. It promptly fell to the floor and out of his frankly uncoordinated handhold. He glared down at the lion as he pouted at his failure and made audible whimpering noises. If they weren’t careful he might burst into tears again.

"You'll figure it out, kiddo!" Patton beamed as he picked it up again, then looked up at Logan, "Yeah, Cow here used to be Roman's favorite until he learned about dragons and white horses." Patton slipped into one of his more fond smiles, "But you can have him."

"Cow?" Logan said as he took the lion, Virgil's eyes brightened as he grasped for it, "Are you quite sure, Patton? I quite remember Roman throwing a tantrum about him when he was three when it went 'missing'."

"He dragged the poor thing through the mud! I had to wash it!" Patton said, then blushed at his outburst, "All I'm saying is that I know you well enough to know that you might need some toys–" Logan opened his mouth but Patton pushed on– "that are not puzzles."

"It's never too early..." Logan mumbled.

Virgil giggled around his pacifier as Logan shook the lion in front of him. Fascinating. Patton held out his finger again but much more slowly than last time. Logan looked between them and hoped Virgil didn't hate him. Well, hate was a strong word, or if babies were even capable of hatred. Most likely they did but Logan didn't want to test that hypothesis out.

Virgil unsteadily reached out his hand and then gripped Patton's finger. He clung onto Logan's sweater for dear life with the other. Patton's face at that exact moment of acceptance went through several expressions that Logan couldn't describe. His wonderfully blue eyes went wide with surprise then grew shiny with stars. And tears, definitely tears. Logan now didn't feel so ashamed about crying profusely for the past week anymore.

Virgil simply had that effect on people it seemed.

Patton stood up and took off his glasses to look up at the ceiling. He blinked and Logan froze at the quiet sniffle. Patton easily cried, but unfortunately, when he cried, Logan soon followed. This cause and effect phenomenon made it hard for them to watch even remotely sad movies together.

Patton set his glasses back on with a rare expression of fragility. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He couldn’t seem to look up just then and that gnawed at Logan’s heartstrings but it was only fair as Logan couldn't meet his eyes. "I...I had expressed my desires in the past about fatherhood. But you told me to wait for a partner, romantic or not, to raise a child with."

The leaden weight of Patton's gaze shifting to look pointedly at him made his skin burn at the contact. Not in the pleasant yet stomach-flop kind of way. The sort that made him want to fling himself into the sun to repent for his sins. If Logan didn’t know embarrassed guilt before he sure knew it now. Love was funny like that.

Virgil's cooing echoed in his ears but it wasn't enough to drown out his own insecurities.

"Logan, I--"

"I couldn't find a partner, Patton." Logan said as his shoulders slumped, "Haven't you said it yourself once? Love has failed me." Patton flinched. "I don't need to fulfill societal milestones to the letter. I can’t simply wait for the one–" For you – "anymore! I...I need to do whatever in my control to live a happy and fulfilled life. And I simply thought you didn't support me in that endeavor..."

"I'm so sorry!!" Patton cried, and here came the waterworks; damn it all. "I was thinking about myself and how hard it was to raise Roman on my own. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you! Because it was hard Logan, it was really hard and it’s going to be really hard!"

Logan twisted his nose in his best attempt to stem the tears at the back of his throat, "But....you made it seem so easy."

Patton barked out a laugh, "It's not. It's really not..."

Logan huffed out a laugh. "I suppose you were right. I'm sorry too. I should've called you earlier." Logan looked up and finally met Patton's eyes head on as his voice wobbled. "I was a mess. I have no idea what I'm doing, I puked. Several times. Oh god, I never puked before and--"

Patton bent over at the waist and engulfed Logan into a hug, careful so he wouldn’t crush Virgil. Logan dropped Cow in shock. A few moments passed then Logan sank into the touch with a sigh and brought a free hand to grasp at the space between Patton's shoulder blades. His fingers shook like pool noodles in a storm. Patton shushed and rocked them gently. Virgil grumbled below the hug. Logan let out a wet giggle and couldn’t fight a smile off his face at imagining Virgil’s little pout.

The tangled mess of his thoughts and anxieties smoothed out as Patton hummed a lullaby in his ear. Every inch of contact they shared made Logan experience what he called "Heart Pat-pilations" and symptoms he had noted over time often included extensive blushing, processing errors, and a reluctance to let go. Such as now. He clutched Patton's shirt, hoping against hope it would never end.

Just for a few seconds longer. Please.

Patton pulled away, with a cheeky smile, "Hey, you can make it up to me by letting me see this goofball more often, huh?"

Logan released his white-knuckled grip of Patton’s shirt as he raised an eyebrow, "Consider it done."

The emptiness between his fingers from the lack of contact wailed. Logan picked up Cow off the floor again and hoped the stuffed lion would abate the feeling. However, nothing could replace the burning of Patton’s touch. That delectable taste of madness at the edge of his awareness. Tortured love life aside, Virgil seemed to enjoy the appearance of Cow again as his giggles filled the air.

Patton held out his arms with a shy smile. Logan hesitated then let Patton take Virgil from his arms at last. Patton beamed as he rubbed an absent thumb against Virgil's cheek. Logan stood up and clutched the stuffed lion in a death grip against his chest. Virgil tried to grab Patton's glasses but the baker saw it coming a mile already and leaned out of his reach.

Patton moved Virgil to rest in the crook of his arms despite his squirming, "Golly, I've missed Roman when he was this age. Full of wiggles and loud as can be. It's been so long."

"If I recall, both you and your ex-wife–" Patton winced as Logan cleared his throat– "didn't get a wink of sleep and went through living hell for the first year of Roman's life."

Patton leaned down to press his forehead against Virgil, "God, I missed that smell. You don't forget it."

"Patton?"

Patton wrenched his head up, his face beet red with embarrassment. Virgil's pacifier threatened to fall out from how much he giggled. Logan resisted the urge to palm Patton's cheek to feel the heat from his blush as he walked closer.  Such a gorgeous flush against his unrequited love's freckles.

"Sorry," Patton said, his blush fading, "It's weird. I know it's weird. You can't just sniff people's babies without permission. No wait, I meant like--"

"Patton." Logan smiled as Patton's babbling came to a stop. "There isn't much I don't understand, and if or when there comes a day where I do, I'm sure I will respect it."

Patton broke out into a sunny smile, "Oh golly, you say the sweetest things! I'm the luckiest man alive to have you as my best friend!"

Logan's smile grew a little sadder. "I feel the same way."

A few beats of silence passed as the two of them shuffled in place. Logan squeezed Cow tighter; the stuffed lion was the same size as his son, but smelled too much like old pizza and spilled hot chocolate stains to be an exact replica of Virgil. Logan buried his face into Cow's head and hoped the ground would swallow him whole. Just end his suffering already.

Logan peeked over Cow to glance at Patton and Virgil. Logan couldn't decipher Patton's expression as he baby-talked down at Virgil. A mix of thoughtfulness and sadness, Logan could tell from the slight pinch at the corner of his eyes.  

"What's his story?" Patton said, at last, his voice quiet. "He's so tiny, but why choose him? I don't understand how could anyone could give this little treasure up."

Logan squeezed Cow even tighter as he snarled, "No one did. His family-" He swallowed past the anger at the back of his throat.

"His family died in a fire. But his extended family believed Virgil to be a bad omen and–” He couldn’t help but let out a bitter huff at the word– “ abandoned him at the hospital." Logan took a breath as his voice grew more unsteady. "They...they didn't visit him even once when he could've been dying from the smoke. He could've passed away among strangers, all alone in a room with beeping machinery, scared and crying....”

The thought made Logan’s gut twist like he’d been stabbed and the knife twisted in circles. “But he didn't."

Logan looked up and balked at the sheer fire alit behind Patton's eyes. He wondered whether Patton still kept his shotgun hidden under the counter. He never had bullets since he never actually wanted to hurt anyone, but at this moment, Logan wouldn't be surprised if he did. Patton looked ready to march out and punch Virgil's old family's lights out.

Logan cleared his throat.

"As for why I chose him? Because he needed me. As simple as that." He brushed a hand over Virgil's head, "He was so small and he was the only one in that room that was going to be looked over because he was sick." His heart squeezed with a sting of pain. "How could I say no to eyes this big?”

Patton’s fire softened into embers. “...You’re a good man, Lo. And I think you made the right choice.”

Logan looked up into Patton’s eyes, that wonderful shade of blue that haunted his dreams. He...he said he made the right choice. Logan preened at the praise as the top of his ears burned. Logan’s palms grew sweaty against Cow’s knotted fur. Patton’s approval made his heart soar. His worries were for naught.

“Ah, that is ki-kind of you to say.” Logan started to say, his voice faltering in this rare moment between them, Patton’s soft look tangling his tongue. Then a loud slam echoed from the bakery. Patton looked away, their tender moment lost to life’s innumerable surprises, and his heart shriveled a little more.

“Daaaadd!!!” a voice shrieked, “You were late! I had to walk home!”

Patton glanced up at the clock. “Oh, shoot! I had to be there to walk Roman home five minutes ago. I better go see him.”

Logan gestured to the door, after you; Patton stuck out his tongue. Virgil’s little grey eyes shone with ire as they made their way back out to the front. Logan held the door open for Patton and they were greeted by the sight of Roman pressing his face against the glass of Patton’s display counter. Patton cleared his throat. Roman shot up and leveled a glare at his father as he crossed his arms petulantly. Logan set Cow aside on the counter.

“Where were you?!” Roman stomped his foot, his little Mickey Mouse backpack jingled on his back, “I can’t believe you forgot me!”

Logan pushed past Patton and kneeled down to Roman’s level and put his hands on Roman’s shoulder. “Did you walk home, Roman? You’re far too young to be doing that.”

Patton adjusted Virgil to lay against his chest to put a hand on his hip. “Who let you walk away? You should’ve waited for me.”

Roman glared up at Patton with tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. “You should’ve been there!”

“Roman,” Logan said sharply. “It’s far too dangerous for a child your age to be walking alone in the city. Next time wait patiently until your father picks you up.” Roman pouted and kicked his feet. “Even if he’s only a block away.”

A hand landed on Logan’s shoulder, “I’m his dad, but thank you.”

Logan jolted and then stood up.

“Excuse me, you’re right: it isn’t my place, I am sorry.” He let Patton walk past him as he rubbed his arms. Patton was more of a father than he could ever be, no matter how many books he read.

“Roman, it’s okay,” --It’s not, “Tell me who was the teacher on watch? You’re not in trouble.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but kept silent.

Roman rolled his eyes, “Mr. Trumpbull was. He sucked on a weird lollipop that glowed and smelled funny. Like winter. But bitter and gross.” Roman scrunched up his nose, “Didn’t like it so I walked home.”

Patton bounced Virgil gently as he ran a hand through Roman’s curls. “Well, I’m glad you made it home safely. I’ll call the school and see what I can do about it.”

Roman’s eyes sparkled. “You’re glad I walked home?!”

“Uh, no,” Logan said, his voice cold as ice. “You need to move schools, that teacher is incompetent and exposing children to secondhand smoke. Not only that–” Logan adjusted his glasses– “no one should’ve let you walk away at all. You could’ve been kidnapped or worse.” He squinted down at Roman over his glasses, “So incorrect, I personally am not glad you walked alone home.”

Roman let out a frustrated yell, “What! Dad, tell him he’s wrong!”

Patton coughed uncomfortably.

“Well, he’s right, kiddo. Even if I could have phrased it better.” Logan’s fuzzy feeling of pride drained away, Patton didn’t approve of his methods or his words. “But it was dangerous what you did. Go grab a cookie, okay?”

“A cookie?” Logan said aghast at Patton’s coddling, but then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Very well.”

It wasn’t Logan’s place to do or say anything more. Patton’s glare over his glasses shut him up on the matter anyhow. Just because Logan was a father now too didn’t give him the right to chide Roman. Logan knew that. He shouldn’t have spoken up at all, but he couldn’t help speaking up on an important matter such as Roman’s safety.

However, Patton did spoil Roman far too much. It made the boy grow up into bit of a brat if he said so himself. Roman’s face lit up and opened up the counter to pluck up a Spooky Surprise cookie and bit into it. Black crumbs fell to the floor unceremoniously as Roman groaned at the sheer amount of sugar. Logan’s mouth twitched with a smile while Patton looked at his son with open fondness at Roman’s unabashed love for his dad’s cookies.

Roman turned around and finally zeroed in on Virgil. “What is that?"

“Oh! This is Virgil,” Patton said as Virgil gurgled, “He’s Logan’s son, so say hello to him! He’s just the cutest little thing ever.”

“Ew.” Roman wrinkled his nose as he looked up at Virgil in Patton’s arms, “Why do you have it?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking why I have Virgil? I adopted him.”

“Oh…” Roman took a bite out of his cookie thoughtfully, “When do you give him back? I know Ms. Applebee gave her hamster back after a few weeks.”

Patton giggled, “No, kiddo. This kind of adoption is forever I think.”

“It is forever.” Logan said firmly, no hint of hesitance in his voice.

“Do you want to hold him, Roman?” Patton said, “Oh, I almost forgot to ask, Logan, how old is he?”

“Three and a half months old,” Logan said, then picked up Roman as he squealed. “Up you go.” Logan set Roman on top of a stool and fought back a smile at the resulting giggles from the kindergartner, “Be very careful when holding Virgil, okay?”

Roman crossed his arms, “Okay, okay. I will, Lo! Geez, I’m not a baby.”

Patton walked over and bounced Virgil to soothe him. Logan’s hands twitched to take him back, but Patton was the more experienced father here. He had to concede to him. Logan instead focused on coaching Roman on how to hold Virgil properly. Within a few heartstopping moments, Virgil settled into Roman’s arms.

Virgil squirmed as he sniffled, Roman stuck out his tongue at him. “Are all babies this gross? Why is he crying?”

“He has Colic,” Logan said, both adults kneeling close to Roman in case anything were to go wrong, “It means his tummy is sensitive and he can be in great pain sometimes.”

“Aw, poor little guy.” Patton frowned.

Roman’s fingers were sticky with crumbs and frosting, staining his cute little onesie. Logan wished he had the foresight to wipe Roman’s fingers ahead of time. Then grimaced as he remembered how infectious playgrounds could be, he hoped Roman didn’t catch anything. Roman looked between the two of them, wheels turning behind his beautiful green eyes, then shouted, “Are you even looking at me?”

“What? Of course, sweetheart.” Patton said, but he kept glancing down at the squirming baby, “Virgil is just so small. Gah, he’s so adorable…”

"He is," Logan said, brushing a finger down his cheek. "I can hardly look away."

Roman huffed, "Is this why you haven't seen me in like fifty years?"

Patton and Logan glanced at each other. Virgil kicked his feet and squirmed in Roman's arms but Roman held him steadfast and true. Patton raised an eyebrow, Logan's shoulders dropped in response, fine, he needed to tell the truth.

"It’s only been two weeks. And yes, I had to baby proof my apartment. I wanted it to be a surprise," Logan said, "Which meant I had to decline our usual game nights at my place and visit county offices in my free time instead of coming here."

"Well, it was certainly a surprise," Patton muttered under his breath, "Hold his head a little higher, yes, that's it."

Logan couldn't read Roman's expression as he whispered, "So...you picked him over me?"

"Kiddo!"

"Preparing for an arrival of a baby takes extensive work and perhaps I should've warned ahead of time." Logan cleared his throat while Roman stared down at the baby in his arms. "Virgil will require a lot of my attention to make sure he's happy and cared for. And he'll come to our game nights too, regardless."

"What?!" Roman shouted, "But that's our thing! Not Vergil's!"

"Virgil."

"Whatever!" Roman's eyes shone, Logan bit back a sigh, children's emotions were so incredibly volatile and unpredictable that Logan didn't know what to say in response, "What about my happiness?! Do you even care?! You love this ugly little thing more than me!!" Then quieter, "Am I not good enough?"

"Roman," Patton cut in, "We talked about this. Sometimes Uncle Lolo might be busy but it's not because of you. Okay?"

"Yes, your father is right," Logan said, "Virgil is harmless. He doesn't have any teeth nor any capacity to replace you. I love him and I love you. Very much."

Roman glared down at Virgil, his jade eyes full of fire. Virgil kicked his feet and squealed in Roman’s arms. Then his cute little blue pacifier fell out his mouth. Oh no, that wouldn’t do! Logan dropped his eyes down to the floor and looked for it. It rolled under the chair. He reached a hand to grab it when Patton’s hand bumped against his.

“Oh--”

“Apologies--”

Patton pulled his hand back like it been burned. Logan ignored the slight sting of hurt at the action, his friend was simply being courteous. Logan picked up the pacifier gently and looked up at Patton’s soft smile. See? He was just being polite, he told his anxieties. Logan met Patton’s eyes and let a smile escape. Not for the first time he wondered if they could be together in another and more kinder life.

Roman screamed, “Ow! You little jerk!”

Patton’s eyes widened as the two of them realized they hadn’t looked at their sons in all this time. A whole minute unsupervised. They whipped up their heads back up to witness Roman’s index finger in Virgil’s mouth, and it looked like Virgil wasn’t letting go any time soon. Tears sprung at the edge of Roman’s eyes. Meanwhile, Virgil practically glowered.

Ah, it appeared like Logan was right after all. Like always. Babies were capable of hatred then. Logan grimaced, but he hadn’t expected it to be at the expense of Roman. In different circumstances, Logan would’ve laughed.

“Virgil!”--”Roman!!” the fathers said in unison.

Virgil let go of Roman’s finger with a slimy pop. Logan reached out to pick Virgil out of Roman’s arms. Patton brought Roman’s fingers closer to inspect. Both of them knew Virgil was far too young to have any teeth to bite but babies’ jaws were quite strong. Patton let out a sigh at the lack of blood on the tip of Roman’s finger. However, before Logan could carefully extract Virgil away from the unruly kindergartner--

“I’ll show you a real bite!” Roman shouted, then bit down on Virgil’s squirming arm, Virgil shrieked.

“ROMAN ALEXANDER MILENA!” Patton and Logan screeched in horror, then Roman released Virgil’s arm in shock. Virgil sobbed as blood welled up from two dark lines of teeth marks on his pink arm. He wailed, pain clouding his grey eyes, and his two small fists hit Roman’s stomach in his flailing. Roman held him tighter to stop him from falling onto the tiles below but it only made Virgil scream to such unholy pitches that the windows rattled.

“Roman, you are in so much trouble!” Patton said sternly, “Give him back to Logan,” Roman hesitated, “Now!”

Logan’s ears rang as he picked up his screaming son from Roman’s uncouth hold. 

Blood. Roman bit down hard enough to make his son bleed. Virgil’s red face of total anger and fright already filed away for nightmare fuel for the next few weeks. Logan shushed him as Virgil clung to his sweater for dear life. Logan rubbed Virgil’s back and hoped against hope that his son’s Colic wouldn’t act up at the same time. Stomach pain and a laceration for a baby must be like absolute torture for him.

“What were you thinking?” Patton said aghast, “You can’t just bite a baby!”

Roman broke out into sobs; he never dealt with scoldings well. Patton never did it often enough since he preferred to give him cookies and make him feel all better. He wanted to see his son smile more often than cry. Logan picked up some tissues from the counter and cleaned up Virgil’s wound of Roman’s spit. Meanwhile, his own shoulder grew wet with snot and tears so much so that Logan considered just throwing the sweater out when he got home.

Patton turned around on his heel to face Logan, his eyes wide.

“Oh my god, Logan I’m so sorry!” Patton said, his voice high and frantic. “Roman, go find the medkit upstairs. It’s under the cabinet, you know where.”

Roman ran away with his jingling backpack growing distant with him. The customers in the bakery whispered among themselves even more. His son’s shrieks and cries made them uncomfortable. Logan abruptly stood up and walked into the back room. Away from the attention and from their stares.

Logan sat back down in the chair next to the stairs. Patton stayed up front to check up customers and to pretend everything was under control. Or more likely, to give Virgil some space to calm down with his Dad. Red and blotchy, his son’s face looked like a tomato, and his shrieks made Logan’s ears ring. Logan couldn’t help but feel like an absolute failure.

If only he wasn’t a lovesick fool and paid more attention! Why couldn’t he just be more attentive like an actual father should be?

“I’m sorry,” Logan said as he shushed Virgil’s cries and rocked him, “It was my fault. One week in and I already failed you.”

Virgil’s cries softened, not so shrill anymore, but he didn’t look like the giggly carefree baby from earlier either. Logan bounced him on his lap and talked to him. He was halfway through his rant about Galileo’s unfair treatment by the Church when Patton came to check on them. Virgil sniffled and his little lungs shuddered but his eyes fluttered with exhaustion. Almost lulled to sleep by Logan’s passionate lecture.

“I found it!” Roman shouted in triumph as he tettertottered down the spiral stairs with a medkit in hand, “I thought it was in the other cabinets but I found it!”

Patton tousled Roman’s hair and then opened it up. Logan held out Virgil’s arm and Patton bandaged and cleaned it up as gently he could. Best to protect it from any infections and germs. Virgil actively fought sleepiness against Logan’s chest at this point. Logan sighed, he needed to call Dr. Picani when he got home for an emergency appointment tomorrow. Or today. Maybe even a hospital. He didn't know.

“Roman…” Patton said as he pushed his son closer to them, “Now what do you say?”

“I’m sorry.” Roman kicked his feet, “That was really mean of me to do. But Virgil bit me first!” Patton glared, “But I’m still really sorry.”

Logan let out a pained sigh, “You’re forgiven, Roman. But don’t do it again. You understand? He’s incredibly delicate.”

“Sorry.” Roman pouted.

Logan stood up and held his sleeping son against his chest, “I have to get going. I’ll call you later, Patton.”

“Oh, of course!” Patton said, his smile a tad too wide, “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what got into him.” Roman huffed. “But you bet I’m going to have a very long talk with Roman.”

Logan adjusted his tote bag as he walked back out into the bakery. “I’ll see you both next time. It’s just...been a long week.”

He glanced at the forgotten stuffed lion, Cow, left on the counter. Logan slowed to a stop, Patton did offer it to him, but did he really mean it? Patton made the decision for him as he grabbed the lion and stuffed it into Logan’s bag for him. Logan’s bone-deep exhaustion dropped a little bit off his shoulders at the action.

“Hey!” Roman protested, “That’s mine!”

“It’s Virgil’s now,” Patton said, “He needs it, and you hardly ever play with Cow anymore. You have more than enough dragons in your room.”

“But-”

“No buts, Roman. That’s when you get older and you want him to be able to have something nice to play with right?”

“No…” Roman crossed his little arms and huffed but his shoulders sagged as a guilty expression crossed his soft features, “Yeah…. Okay…”

Logan tousled Roman’s curls, “Thank you. And I’ll see you next week, little minotaur.”

“HEY!”

Patton giggled, “Drive home safe!”

Logan waved goodbye and left the bakery without glancing back. He drove through the busy city streets as he went through various scenarios on how that first meeting could’ve gone better, or more commonly, much worse. At a stoplight, Logan dropped his head down to the wheel, his heart nearly stopped in his chest when he heard Virgil’s shriek of pain and fear.

He hoped to never hear it again in his life.

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