#but for fucks sake i guarantee i'm never gonna need to know how to do the shit we're doing when i'm an adult

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

honestly fuck whoever decided forcing everyone to keep doing increasingly useless and complicated math was a good idea

[itsyagurlchip]

ask: @snipersiniora If so can i please request for a rottmnt family platonic one-shot of little sister reader and her family? Reader is as the same age as Mikey.

Where reader admits she's been secretly dating a yokai or mutant boy for months and she not only admit to it but asks if he can meet her family to see if he's good or not.

If you want to know the boyfriend is a keeper (good guy) but how reader's family react and do in the meeting is up to you.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Why Did I Tell Them...☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings: cussing (!) the usual crack (!) reader is called pink (!) lil bit a angst(!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 So late... (im sorry) I'm thinking about making this a "Pink Series" bc I don't usually name reader for the sake of inclusivity. I don't think I want them to meet, but moreso write how they react. Thank you though!! Again, thank you Snipes for the request <333

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ohhhhh reader is keeping secretttss🫵🏾

"Sooo..I have a boyfriend..."

"ERM WHat THe FACK???"

"I'm finally getting grandchildren! Hope had been restored!"

"dad wtf"

"huh"

"but why?"

"Yep, had a hunch." Leo said, walking out of the room. "Come back to me when you have some actual groundbreaking news.." Flipping his tail mask he walked on, making you grimace at him at his nonchalance about the situation.

Leo knew 😐

Nothing really more to say.

He honestly thought you'd never be able o pull somebody-

But the night you came home, absolutely smiten, dreamy eyes, literal fucking poems in your diary-

It was safe to say that somebody had pulled you.

Leo's glad that you have a partner, but if he ever catches the dushbag treating you other than perfect?

He honestly won't be responsible for the next actions he'll take.

"Pink! You have a BOYFRIEND? Why didn't you tell me?" Mikey said, hugging you at your hips as he teared up. "My lil sis is growing up and didn't even wanna tell me *sniff* *sniff*." You pushed him away with a small frown.

"That's why. It's like you guys are always in my business, like it's a k-drama." You said, taking a deep breath.

WHHHHHHHAAAAAT!?!??!?!?

Mikey honestly couldn't believe it-

You literally just told him about one of the most important parts of your life.

And you DIDN'T want him freak out?

What happened to the days where you two would gossip about HOT PEOPLE!?😭

When he would paint your nails as you told him some part 34 drama from things you'd hear from the topside???

WHere HaVe THe tImEs GOOOoNNNE?

But genuinely, he's super happy for you!

Especially since you thought you would've never gotten a partner-

He just wishes you told him sooner.

"A BOYFRIEND PINK? REALLY?" Donnie exclaimed, gripping his head. "Did she really say that!?"

"yes that's what I just said."

"OOOOkAY! THAT'S IT! I need to know the name of this- "partner" *eugh*, that you've courted."

"why did you say it like that, you-" Breath in, breath out. "nevermind."

Donnie wants to kill this so called "boyfriend".

How dare you go behind his back and get find a "boyfriend."

He better be a BOY that's a FRIEND.

Or..else.

Like, idk. Maybe he'll- nope that's just illegal.

He's gonna do SOMETHING!!! That won't guarantee him jail time!!

He can smell that punk all over you and its disgusting.

"Dude! Back up! What the heck?" You grimaced at the the way his snout tickled your neck.

"I'm just making sure you didn't get a-" Raph glared at Donnie. "some cooties. You never know how often a guy showers!" He said, proceeding to swab your mouth.

You pushed him away with a huge frown, rolling your tongue around your mouth to get the texture away.

"This!! This is why I didn't want to tell you guys. You specifically Donnie!" He tried speaking up- "No! Listen to me! Isn't that the reason why you wanted to go out on your own Mikey? To prove you can handle stuff on your own?" You yelled, huffing at the silence.

"But that was different-" Mikey started.

"No it isn't! You were able to be independent by showing you could get us that trashy game!" You stomped in frustration. "I'm not even fighting and you guys are acting like my life's on the line!!" Your face was a fully on ugly frown, with a tear or two beading in your eye.

"Pinkie Pie, my baby sister, my sweetest little bubble gum," You rolled your eyes at Raph's nicknames. "you gotta understand the difference between putting your life at stake, and putting your feelin's at stake." Raph said, reaching for your shoulder.

Raph was beginning to build a headache. It's like, his siblings want to grow up when he doesn't want them to :((

He missed the times where you were itty bitty, and so cute, and wanted to hangout with your big brothers all the time!

But now, most days, you end up sneaking out during missions.

At least he knows you aren't in physical danger. That eased half of his mind.

But Mind Raph was telling him that maybe Pink dating wasn't such a good idea...

If only you could be his sweet little sister again

He's mentally wiping tears rn.

You snatched your shoulder from him, marching away.

"It's either you guys meet him this Sunday, or we'll be out the whole day!" You shouted, shoving your curtains away to 'slam' them.

"THIS SUNDAY!!!??"

"Yo, Red, imma need you to go out and buy 30 bags of popcorn. Life's just getting good and I cannot waste it watching my single sons moping."

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[naanima]

PEOPLE, I'm deep diving into the pits of Reddit reading about the Jake trade. Lololols. I'm just fascinated. Also, I'm gonna talk about what I THINK about the Pens etc, just my own personal take. IGNORE at will. But also realise I DON'T have that much of an emotional attachment to Jake as a lot of fans do, I love him but he isn't one of my guys.

I like the Jake trade, and I think a lot of the anger from fans is that they think trading Jake is admitting that the Pens aren't making it into the playoffs. And I'm just like, um yeah. It is pretty obvious we aren't, or the likelihood of us making it in is fucking low with the season we have had. Jake is NOT going to make a difference in whether we make it to the playoffs or not.

Jake is an UFA in 3 months time. We DIDN'T have a contract with him, of course we are gonna trade him for futures. It is the SMART trade decision. The return we got for him is OBJECTIVE high. He is a 3 months long RENTAL, NO team in their right mind would willingly offer up their first round pick WITHOUT conditions. Unless all we are getting in return is a first round pick and a player. THAT'S a shit deal.

First round picks are worthless UNLESS they are a guaranteed success - generational talents, someone that's practically a guaranteed hit. The NUMBER of first round picks that never make it is HIGH! In addition, I'd like to remind everyone that Jake was picked up in the fucking THIRD ROUND of the draft.

Kyle gave the Pens the WHOLE season to get better, and don't give me the bullshit about how he got us shitty pieces, ALL his trade on paper was excellent (barring Jarry and Graves). We are INDIVIDUALLY better, but as a team we just fucking suck.

I know Sid is pissed, and that's good, it would be fucking off if Sid ISN'T pissed about losing, and having his eldest daughter being traded away. He is a player that's what he should be focused on. But guess what? Kyle's job is about providing the best chance for the team to win (he did with all the summer trades etc, the team just somehow fucking sucks), and to build a future for the Pens (which he is doing by SECURING us prospects and future picks, bcos we HAD BASICALLY NOTHING). For whatever reason we fucking suck.

Actually, I 80% believe the reason we suck is bcos of our coaching staff. I LOVE Sully, I think he has TRIED everything this season to make us win, but the FACT NOTHING worked says a LOT about his position with this team presently. Sometimes people can get TOO comfortable in an org/place etc. or sometimes a person is just NO longer what an org/team needs. And I truly believe it is time for Pens and Sully to part ways. The truth is Sully is gonna get snapped up straight away and most likely win another Cup, just NOT with the current Pens. And I 100% believe Sully wasn't fired this season so far bcos FSG likes him and gave him a FUCKING EXTENSION. No way was Kyle gonna be able to remove him. But hey, there's enough evidence to show that we REALLY NEED A FUCKING COACHING CHANGE.

Also, our PP sucked so bad this year that truly fucked us over completely. It was MENTALLY impacting our players, our commentators and the fans. It is a fucking problem. Fire REIRDEN for fucks sake.

Oh! And 20% maybe we suck is because we had so MANY changes in the roster meant it was gonna take us a whole-ass season to figure shit out.

I'm just really fascinated by the Pens future.

[sungbeam]

requests, the third round

a/n: yk,, i always say im not good with requests, but sometimes, i really do just need a whole system reboot and to look at other people's ideas 💀 so this is me trying 🤸‍♀️

NOW OPEN FROM TODAY, SEPT. 5TH TO FRIDAY, SEPT. 8TH !! NOW CLOSED

some ground rules:

✶ remember that i am Not Good At Requests. if i don't end up getting to yours/give up on them, then i'm sorry. if u want a guaranteed fic, u prob shouldn't come to my inbox :')

✶ this is my mainly sfw blog; pls keep all requests pg-13, suggestive at the most. here's a sample of how far i'm willing to go for the sake of readers on this blog.

✶ i'm very much willing to write about death, grief, violence, and blood, to an extent. pls do not send a request romanticizing toxic and/or abusive relationships, bc i will delete it.

✶ i write fem reader at default, but i am very much open to gn reader too. just be sure to specify!

✶ would i write a love triangle? a love square? a love octagon??? (yes, i'm bringing this back) if u want it, and i have the energy for it, lmk LMAO

✶ ONCE YOU HAVE SENT IN A REQUEST, i will update this post below the cut with requests i've received so far. pls check there for if i've seen your ask :]

how to request:

send a prompt(s)/au/song inspo/etc + genre(s) + desired idol boyo(s)!!

— i'll write for anyone from the EIGHT groups i have a masterlist for LOL (prob an emphasis on tbz but maybe this'll get me back to ncity, who knows)

— some prompt ideas: dialogue. question starters. fluff. hozier for vibes. from a villain. werewolf by night quotes.

request queue!

— if u told me i don't have to use all the prompts, i still put them down just so i have all the ideas in one place ^_^

lee hyunjae x "you feel like home to me" x debut/predebut era — from anon

jung wooyoung x "i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me" x "there’s nothing sweeter than my baby" x fluff, suggestive — from @jaehunnyy

lee hyunjae x e2l x "i don't understand why you have to torment me every second of the day! you were a sweetheart when you left, obviously life happened and now you're a devil! what the fuck, lee jaehyun?!" x "you don't understand how i think of you everyday when we were apart" x "i'm not saying that i'm using you but could you fix me? put me back together?" — from anon

kim sunwoo x e2l x spy au x angst x "working together again, it’s just like old times." x "clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place." x "the only one who gets to kill you, is me." x "enemies make the best lovers, you know. " x "why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood?" — from @shakalakaboomboo

hwang intak or yoon keeho x “it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break.” x hurt/comfort — from anon

eric sohn x bffs2l x "was that your first kiss?" x "you can kiss me, you know." — from @mosviqu

eric sohn x “i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you” x “promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up?” — from @ericlvr

lee sangyeon x spy au x "what are you doing out here by yourself?" x "you gonna be a good girl for me?" x "they're dangerous? well unfortunately, so am i." x suggestive/action — from @winterchimez

choose an idol boy 😋 x actors au x e2l x happy ending by svt — from 🌷 anon

idol boy selection in progress x corpse bride au x horror — from 🌷 anon

lee juyeon(?) x soc/helnik au x "i fell in love with the fire long ago." — from @hqrana

xu minghao x "when i was a child, i heard voices… some would sing and some would scream." x "i’m standing in the ashes of who i used to be." x shang-chi au x angst and/or comfort — from @tranquilpetrichor

jacob bae or ji changmin x hozier's francesca x hurt/comfort, angst x a love that endures — from @zzoguri

ji changmin x new year's day (taylor swift) x fluff, comfort — from anon

jacob bae x band au x secret muse/songwriter au x vancouver by big naughty x busking — from @hongyangi

choi chanhee x e2l x she fell first, but he fell harder trope x banter/teasing — from @richasdiary

lee hyunjae x royalty au x poor girl/servant girl x royalty/prince au — from anon

lee hyunjae x bad boy good girl trope — from anon

kevin moon x older brother's best friend x secret relationship x "good morning, sleeping beauty." x "is that my shirt?" x "you look good like this." x "are you trying to get us in trouble?" x "are you sure this is a good idea?" x fluff, suggestive — from @confuchan

lee juyeon x "we can't keep doing this" x bffs 2 lovers — from anon

choi beomgyu x heartbreak girl by 5sos x angst, uber fluffy ending — from @loveliestfelix

lee jeno x best friends 2 lovers x dress by taylor swift — from anon

eric sohn x hands by flatsound x angst with or without a happy ending — from anon

eric sohn x “is that my shirt?” x fluff/suggestive — from anon

lee hyunjae x "you can hold my hand, if you want." x zombie apocalypse au — from anon

kim sunwoo x sweet nothing by taylor swift — from anon

[beebobeebo]

Title: Order Up

Fandom: Justified

Characters: Raylan Givens & Tim Gutterson

Relationship: Tim Gutterson x Raylan Givens (Givenson)

Summary:

In an alternate timeline, of this alternate universe, Raylan has a Tim who manages to keep to himself until he absolutely can't any more.

Tim's order is up, but he gets some say in who does the serving.

I swear to Godzilla at some point there's a flashback with more pizza.

A.K.A. The Pizza Boy AU gets a Sad Ending before we're back to your regularly scheduled Hot To Go lyrics.

Raylan doesn't even look at the phone before he answers. He never knows what Boyd is sending his way, so he might as well take any warning that makes itself known. Especially now.

"Givens."

"Raylan?" A voice from a over decade ago says almost delicately. "You oughta come out to your mama's house.

Raylan looks at the phone screen and sees a number that matches the voice. If that don't beat all. "Tim, my mama's dead," he says.

"I know, but ain't it better to think of it as her house for a minute. It was once, right?" Tim sounds like he's holding something back.

"I guess it was. I'll be there in a few hours. You okay to wait?" Raylan swallows hard. He knows what he should do. He ain't gonna though. That ain't how this one goes.

"Got nothin' but time, Raylan."

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

Driving up to the house, his mama's house for the sake of this night, he sees a figure with their feet propped up on the porch railing. He lets out a slow breath.

"Don't you know that's rude?" He asks as he gets out of his car. "Puttin' your feet up like that."

"You still Ms. Manners where I'm concerned?" The man stands up and walks to the steps. Raylan looks him up and down. He feels painfully old in that moment. Tim's hair has darkened and there are lines etched into his face. Years of thought and worry make a mask over something once young and delicate.

"Must be important for you to call. You certainly don't answer," Raylan walks up the steps stopping one below Tim.

"I heard every message you left. Sorry about Winona. Sorry about Winona again. Congratulations about Willa," Tim says with a small smile as he hands a Nokia brick phone over to Raylan.

"Funny." Raylan takes the phone and runs a thumb over the speaker. Tim's not going to need it anymore. Raylan shoves it in his pocket.

"Nah. Really, a baby is a miracle… as long as it stays the fuck over there." Tim loosely gestures into the distance. "Anyway, not easy to wear a Baby Bjorn while bellied out waitin' for a shot."

Raylan tips back his hat.

"Nothin' in your file ever struck me as parental. Although career day would be a hoot."

Tim smiles and it makes a hollow in his cheek that's too soft to be a true dimple. "Didn't ask you out here to—"

"You didn't ask shit. You suggested it. You left yourself an out."

Tim nods.

"I did. Raylan, I'm very, very good at what I do. Never miss. One shot. Clean and done. Never a moment of hesitation." Tim tilts his head back and rolls his eyes up to look at the stars. He looks like one of those paintings of a saint right before their martyred. He's beautiful and Raylan hates him for it.

"So I'm here because you're hesitating."

"Why can't you just be handsome and useless? It'd serve you better."

Raylan lets out a slow breath and glances down at the gun in Tim's hand.

"Tim, you know this won't end well for both of us if you try anything. I guarantee I'm faster. And I ain't leavin' my kid with a dead daddy. She's gonna have enough to deal with with me bein' alive."

Tim looks back down at Raylan. His face is the goddamn definition of sorrow. The urge to hold Tim while discussing the same man putting a bullet between his eyes, because Tim would make it quick, turns his stomach. Tim opens his mouth and then closes it before managing to say, "You gotta put me down, Raylan. I let you go and he won't stop until everything I ever cared about is dead…that's you. If I hurt you, I'll have to kill myself and I'm afraid I've never managed that. Thought about it. Put the gun between my teeth, but… nah."

Raylan blinks hard. He reaches out and places his hand against the soft scruff of Tim's cheek. "You've never put a bullet in someone that didn't deserve it."

"Can say the same for you," Tim mumbles into the palm of Raylan's hand. "Could still say it after me. I'm tired, Raylan. I'm so goddamn tired and you're the only person who's given a shit about me for…however long it's been since you stiffed me on that tip."

"I made it up to you. Would've kept makin' it up if you hadn't ran," Raylan says as his thumb traces the hollow under Tim's left eye. "I told you to run. I told you to get out, but I should've said stay. I could have fixed it."

Tim laughs and kisses Raylan's palm.

"Some broke things don't get fixed." He pauses. "He'll kill me Raylan. I'll fight every goddamn minute of it, but Boyd'll kill me. I think he always meant to use me to hurt you as soon as he did what you couldn't and found me. He wants to take away your one constant for the last ten years. So show me a little mercy for what we had, have. You do it."

"Should have called me before it got to this." Raylan lowers his hand and hears the snap from his holster more than he feels it. "I keep sayin' 'should'." He pulls his gun up and places the barrel against Tim's chest over his heart.

"Oh, he'll love the irony of that. You ain't gonna pull a fast one and miss from there."

Raylan closes his eyes and goes through the motions until he feels the recoil. There's a loud crack and the sound of Tim's fall. Then there's the softer sound of a man breathing. Raylan doesn't realize it's his own breath for a long moment.

"Tim?" He asks no one.

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

There's a fucking inquiry because, of course, there is. The gun in Tim's hand was never fired. Raylan makes a point to say that Gutterson was always better with a long gun. Hell, if all these people interviewing him would have read the file he had been showing to everyone for over ten years, they'd know that.

He gets a special talk from Art about not waxing poetic about the assassin who tried to kill him. He washes that from his mind with a bottle of something brown and burning.

He gets through all of it.

He has to fly down and hold Willa for a solid day as soon as he's free to, but he gets through all of it.

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

Later, when he finds himself squared off with Boyd. Boyd won't pull. Raylan doesn't care.

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

Boyd lives. Raylan's different now. He could kill for love, for safety, but not hate. He's not sure who he is, but he knows who he ain't.

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

Raylan sits at a new condo in beautiful, sunny Miami. He looks over in the middle of the Marlins game at the dark wooden box with its neat little plaque on the coffee table next to the half-eaten pizza.

"You see this shit, Tim?"

It's quiet, but Tim never did answer Raylan's messages. He always just listened.

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

NOTES:

Bee thinks everything should have a sad end.

And if you want, you can say things stopped right here. There will be a continuation that's less depressing. I just want everything to end in tears because of who I am as a person.

[hot-take-tournament]

sorry if my take sounds deeply incomprehensible i just kept going back on submitting it and knew if i didn’t ramble it all out in one take i was gonna chicken out again LMAO

don't worry about it at all!

i think an incoherent infodump every once in a while is good for the soul!

look, if we're being totally candid -

i have pretty severe adhd comorbid with bipolar disorder, which i do my best to mask - yeah yeah, i know you're not supposed to, but i doubt i'll ever truly shake the shame, especially given the things i've done as a result of failing to mask, both online and irl (the latter being much, much worse) - so i've resolved to do it for the rest of my life

i did talk a little bit about what i was like on my main blog here, which you might need for context:

(speaking of which, please don't actually follow or even go to my main blog just because you like this one - i'm 100% fucking serious. i'm a very different person over there to the point of being almost unrecognisable, even to myself - and i guarantee that side of myself wouldn't recognise me either; we're like two parts of a very fucked up whole. so for that reason i want to keep these two blogs separate; like i said, i'm bipolar, so that's where i let the venom out, and when i feel joyful again, i come back here. i'm more active here anyway, to the point where i basically consider this my main blog now - i mean, my bio isn't even up to date over there)

the point is although i plan to mask for the rest of my life, even i'm partial to an unprompted infodump or oversharing session every once in a while

that's the reason i want this blog to be a safe place for people to vent/infodump/just share their wildest takes anonymously, while still having a little fun by making it a tournament - it's partly to atone in a cringe kinda way, but also because this dumbass site has actually been a huge source of support in some of the darker points in my life

it's almost ironic in a weird way - i spent so much time targeting other people for their mental health problems, but when i had some of my own i came crawling back to those same people. maybe karma does exist lol

no, i didn't ever interact with any of them; but just lurking on their blogs and reading their posts helped normalise what i was going through when i felt so alone after receiving my diagnosis; though it was always in the back of my mind that maybe a year earlier i would've seen those same posts and done my level best to make them feel like shit for it just for the sake of a little dopamine hit

i'm a proud airhead, but i'm not naive - i'm not going to lie to you and say that tumblr is a safe space, partly because nowhere on the internet is safe, partly because i've read some of your takes and they terrify me, but mostly because i'm living proof of how awful this site can be

but i do want to at least create one semi-safe place on the internet after ruining so many other people's

jesus i'm fucking crying that's new lol

anyway sorry for taking your incoherent infodump and exchanging it with one of my own, that's probably more info about me than you ever wanted to know

but i hope this provides a little context for why i decided to start this blog

the point i was actually trying to make, because i'm pretty sure i never actually responded to what you were saying - never feel embarassed to submit anything! trust me, i totally get it; but i promise, even when i make jokes about some unhinged takes, it's all light-hearted, and if it ever comes across otherwise, please let me know! <3 <3 <3

i'm gonna take a quick break, i'll catch up with you all again later

[untilwedont]

Could you do more Vinnie X male reader? There aren't many stories about it. It may be one where they fought but in the end they get along and sleep in each other's arms please. Your writing is great.

Here u go <3

Pairings: Vinnie Hacker x Male Reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, didn't proof read

Today had been a rough day for you. By rough day I mean only one thing had really ruined your day. You and Vinnie had currently been fighting because Vinnie had thought you were cheating on him. The reason being was because you were letting one of your friends flirt with you all day, but it wasn't your fault. When it came to flirting, you were pretty oblivious to it. Whenever someone like Vinnie would flirt with you, you would take it as them trying to be nice to you or complimenting you. Whenever you and Vinnie fought it was because of something stupid but it was never something serious and it hardly ever happened. So here you were fighting with the man you loved most, trying to get his trust back.

"Vinnie, I promise I wasn't letting him flirt with me! You know how oblivious I can be when it comes to flirting! I seriously had no idea." // "Oh yeah, use your stupid fucking oblivious excuse to help you, like that's going to work. I mean for goodness sake M/N, he was calling you 'The most prettiest boy I've ever seen', do you think I'm really gonna let that slide?" // "Vinnie, I can 100% guaranteed you he was just complimenting me. He's my best friend, he would never try to get with me knowing im already in a relationship." // "How can you be so sure of that? I mean at this point M/N you're practically a man - whore because of all the guys you let flirt with you even though you were so 'oblivious'. // There was a second of silence // "What did you just call me?". // The mood in the room suddenly changed as Vinnie had just realized what he said. You felt as if your heart had been broken into many pieces.

"M/N.. I-I'm sorry. That isn't what I meant...". // "No.. Its okay, I get it. I mean you said it yourself, I'm just some man - whore." Tears began to fill both of your guy's eyes. You didn't want to hear another word come out of him so you grabbed the doorknob and opened the door that led out of your guy's bedroom. You walked out ignoring the calls. He didn't run after you, he just let you be. Deep inside you wished he did. Because the both of you still lived in the hype house, you knew everyone heard both of you fight. You ignored everyone as best as you could and left. You really needed to be left alone, especially after what just happened. You hopped in your car and drove off. You didn't know where you wanted to go so you just drove wherever your heart desired.

Tears began to roll down your face as you were driving. You couldn't stop thinking about what Vinnie had called you. Did he really mean it? You ignored all the messages that were going off on your phone. You ended up turning off your phone and turned up the volume on the radio, trying to get your mind off of what happened. Sooner or later you knew you would have to return to the hype house, but you didn't want to think about that right now. After a few hours of driving around, blasting music, you starting to feel a bit tired so you took this as a sign to return home. You felt a little bit better, that drive really helped you. As you pulled up to the hype house you noticed majority of the lights were turned off. You were hoping everyone was asleep by now. You turned your phone back on as it was off the entire car ride and got out of your car.

You opened the door, trying your best to be quiet. You noticed the living room TV was still on so you were hoping no one heard you come in. You quietly made your way back to your bedroom, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you slowly opened your bedroom door, you noticed Vinnie was out of bed. You looked around and saw the bathroom light was turned on. You check the time on your phone, the time was 3:10. Why was he up this late? As you closed the door and took your shoes off, you heard the bathroom door open. You turned around and saw a deeply sad Vinnie. His eyes were red and puffy from all the crying he did. His hair was messed up, it looked like he had been running his hands through his hair.

"Vin.. are you okay?" You spoke softly. // Vinnie looked at you, his eyes lighting up as he saw you. // He ran towards you and pulled you into a deep hug. // "Oh my god baby I'm so sorry! I'm so so sorry! I-I never m-meant to call you a-a whore!" He said, trying to speak through his cries. // Oh Vin.. It's okay. I know you didn't mean it." // "No, its not okay! I know you weren't letting him flirt with you, and I was being overdramatic. I-I understand i-if you want to break up.." // Hearing Vinnie say those words broke you.. again. // You cupped his face, "No, of course not Vinnie! You weren't being overdramatic and I understand why you acted that way, but that doesn't mean I want to break up Vinnie. I love you, always and forever." You said smiling. // "I love you too. Always and forever." Vinnie said smiling back at you and soon enough his lips met yours.

"Do you think we could go lay down now? I'm pretty tired." you said. // "of course we can.". Soon enough you guys were both laying in each others arms. You were happy again. You were able to sleep with the man you loved most.... <3

A/N; I hope you enjoyed reading this. I really enjoyed writing this, especially the ending.

[cinnamonest]

Let's say that darling has been very well behaved for over a year, stockholm has long since instilled into them, and shyly asks if they can try for a baby. How would the boys react? Which ones are on board for knocking up his darling? Pls I'm so horny for breeding it's embarrassing.

Ahh I finally finished for these! It took a while lol but I tried to cover most of it

Zhongli is the best for taking care of you. He's not super panicky, but he is subtly concerned due to seeing his darling as so fragile. Constantly running around and getting you everything you ask for and a bunch of things you didn't ask for. Making sure you virtually never get up, gets you all the food you crave and the softest things to lay on.

And he'll insist on it. Like... He won't let you do anything, even those few freedoms you had before. Will constantly be checking up on you, probably won't leave the house. You're gonna be seeing even more of him than usual.

Now, yandere wise... An escape attempt during this time... Won't go over well. As usual, he kind of deludes himself about it, attributes it to hysteria of some sort, induced by your imbalanced hormones. That's ok. You just need something to keep you controlled. Unfortunately, he can't just give you hormonal control, as it could mess you or the baby up, so most likely it means keeping you heavily sedated. Makes things much easier.

He's surprisingly really good at handling a kid, though. Very gentle and capable, not particularly nervous, but not careless. He's one you won't have to worry about.

Albedo can be... Obnoxious. Bless him. You can't eat this, there's a .0002% chance it can harm the baby. You should sleep in this position, wake up at this time, do breathing exercises, constantly check your temperature and blood pressure and... You get the idea. He's very matter of fact about it, but deep down he's a nervous boi about it all. He's worried about possibilities of something bad happening, and will feel like it's his fault if something bad did happen. He'll be overall eager to actually have a kid though.

So he'll kind of rule your every action for a while - it's better not to challenge him, really, because if you do he'll go on and on about the medical, scientific reasons why you can't do this and have to do that. He's sweet about it though, you can tell he really cares. Outside of what he's dictated as necessary or forbidden by health reasons, he'll try to get you the things you want and crave, and will try to keep you sitting down as much as possible.

He gets extra nervous when holding a kid. Very stiff, perfectly still, probably gives it back very quickly out of nervousness.

Childe is ever the smug bastard. Wants to show you off, will take you places because look at him and the cute little wife he knocked up! It's a property thing, you're his little wife and he fucked you and now you have his baby. He's very proud of it all.

And actually, he'll be a little sweeter than usual all around, he's just in such a good mood. He'll have to lay off the sadistic tendencies for the sake of your health, so you get some respite in that regard, he becomes a lot more gentle, and will even do sweet things for you. He'll still be kind of condescending, though, teasing you as usual.

On a yan level, he's... More obsessive. In the past, he might have been one to leave little windows of opportunity to leave just to chase you, gave you wiggle room to be defiant so he could get the thrill of punishing you, but that's gone now. The moment you act up he'll lay down the consequences, and make it very clear you won't be disobeying from now on.

Holding a kid, he's more gentle than usual, but will definitely be one to pull some shit like pretending like he's about to drop it just to see you panic.

Bonus, a few years down the road he's gonna be super obsessive and showoff-y. Think Maes Hughes level of proud.

Diluc is kind of hilarious because he's a nervous wreck. It's adorable. It gets annoying kinda fast, though, he's constantly panicked over every little thing you do, acts like a slight pained groan is a sign that you're dying or something. He's kind of embarrassed about his own tendency to be overly worried, and he'll cave to being teased about it. He'll be very happy initially because it fits the ideal in his head of what he wants, though.

He's actually not particularly worse, because you're already pretty restricted. He will, however, significantly reduce the number of people that come to the winery, instead choosing to meet all of his appointments elsewhere if not cancel them entirely. He doesn't like people being close to you, even just in proximity - even if they don't know you're there, it makes him feel uneasy. He'll check on you frequently, more than usual, and insist on everything you eat, drink, and every waking moment is accounted for and approved of.

He'll hesitate to hold one because he's so nervous about dropping it or something. And he nearly does because he's so trembling. Again, it's actually really cute, and he's definitely embarrassed by it.

Kaeya is... Problematic. As I've said before, he's actually one of a few where you run the risk of jealousy. It's incredibly immature, and he's well aware of that, so he'll keep it well hidden. But it kind of irks him if he sees how much you stress over a baby. As a result, he's one of the ones who might actually be in a worse mood than he was before. He'll need a lot of reassurance, not in those exact words because he's too proud to say so directly, but reassurance that you'll always love him more. And it's in your best interest to give an affirmative answer. Pregnancy with him would probably be an accident, but if you ask he might agree to it.

Will definitely be more restrictive, and potentially a bit rougher, even. He'll still feel bad for you and do things for you, but he'll cling to you even more, and more shamelessly than usual. He'll double check the locked doors, make sure there's a guard posted to grab you if you try to bolt. If you do, it's even less pretty than usual. He'd be one that isn't afraid to threaten you, really. If you like a kid so much more than him, you wouldn't want him to take the kid away and give it to someone else once it's born, would you?

If holding it, he kinda... Calms down. A lot of those doubts and negative feelings are still there, but he can't help but feel an affection too. He'll get really quiet, but serious.

Xingqiu is a bit similar to Albedo. Very matter of fact about it all, and boy does his research. He's happy about it and gladly will knock you up, but he's very particular about everything. Like, good God, you didn't know there were so many books on pregnancy. He's a worrier, but he's got a little bratty pride and won't let you know he's a nervous wreck about it all. He makes himself out to be The Expert, but he's actually pretty worried about your health. Similarly, he'll regulate you quite a bit, insist on having his family's servants do things for you, so he doesn't have to spend a second away from your side.

He likes to spend a lot of time fantasizing, though, he's also one of those that really likes to do "child planning." He's got their education planned out, he's got lists of names, he smiles as he daydreams about doing this and that. Overall he's one of the best you can have in this regard.

He's the gentlest little thing if he's holding a child. You don't have to worry about anything, really, he's soft and gentle and probably the best of all for holding.

Razor is, and y'all saw this coming, very pleased! Generally in a very good mood, smiling and nuzzling you even more than usual. To be honest, your lifestyle doesn't change much, still consisting of sitting around all day, but he insists you sleep more, and will trade any walks you used to take with even more naps.

Likes to lay his head on your belly, generally just being extremely physically affectionate, cuddly and nuzzly even more than usual, which is saying something tbh. He's the opposite of the Albedo/Xingqiu type - he'll be asking you questions because he understands the very basic concept of fuck -> pregnant -> baby, but ???? How does it work? Why are you so moody? Why are you craving weird food? Boy did not realize how much goes into it all and it's very confusing. You can use this to your advantage, though. Tell him humans can't fuck while pregnant or it's guaranteed to harm the baby or something - he'll be devastated but reluctantly accept it. You'll just have a sore throat for a while.

Please don't let this boy carry a baby without specifically teaching him how to do so. You'll have a heart attack when he tries to pick it up by the back of the neck or by the foot or something. He's happy though, at least.

Xiao is... Difficult. He'll be actually pretty easily agreeing to it, really, he has no real reason to object even if he's uneasy. He's kind of detached from it, and really his behavior doesn't change much outside of a few comments here or there and willingness to get you certain foods. He probably would find a trusted source to teach him what he needs to know on how to take care of you, he's too proud to ask you himself. It's safe to say his knowledge on it all is virtually zero, but deep down he IS concerned for your well-being, even if he doesn't show it very well.

Xiao's already one of the most restrictive yans, so like with Razor, your lifestyle doesn't change much - you go from being locked in a room all day... To be locked in a room all day, except now you're pregnant. He'll probably be more cautious to check on you more often, though.

Tbh, he's also one that might get a bit jealous, but he wouldn't know why, rather, doesn't recognize and understand his own feelings. He'll just kind of sulk a bit, even pout, it's pretty uncharacteristic and even a bit funny.

Holding a kid, you'll probably be a bit uneasy, just because he has no concept of gentleness, but he does surprisingly well if given instructions.

[qqueenofhades]

Thank you for your answer to my last ask! Just sort of carrying on from that, what do you think about how they should cover medieval queerness in a potential prequel? I read your post about the deep relationships between knights which was really interesting. I guess what I'm asking is what would "Period-typical Homophobia" for Nicky and Joe actually be? Thank you for educating us better than school does.

Okay, I’m gonna come in here with a Scorching Hot Take that may ruffle some feathers, but possibly... none?

If the point of including casual homophobia or homophobic references is literally just for the sake of evoking some supposed Medieval Bigotry for ~Le Atmosphere Of Dark Age, there is a) no point to it, and b) not much historical evidence either. People love to point out that we didn’t have the modern identity labels of “gay,” “lesbian,” “bisexual,” etc. in the olden days -- well, in that case, we don’t have modern homophobia either, or reactions to those behaviors in the same way. We don’t even have much textual evidence for how ordinary people (outside clerical/religious elites, who would be predisposed to disapprove, just like the religious right today) reacted to so-called “queerness” in their communities, and the circumstantial evidence we DO have suggested that it was far from any imagined universal experience of rejection and isolation. Besides, what we call “queer” due to fragile modern heteronormativty and toxic masculinity was actually intensely normal for medieval people.

One of the tiresome arguments that Straight Historians tend to use, when queer historians are arguing for a queer, romantic, or sexual relationship between two people of the same gender (usually men, because that’s who mostly appears in our sources), is that “friendship was a lot more romantic/intimate/emotional/physical in nature back then!!! They’re not gay They’re Just Pals!!” This is actually true, in that medieval men, far from this Iron Man No Homo No Emotions trope that (once again) we ourselves have come up with, were encouraged (as I wrote about in my gay knights post) to love each other almost, if not quite, beyond reason. There was so much crying, kissing, embracing, tender declarations of loyalty, etc (see: Is It Gay or Is It Feudalism?) Any of those behaviors would make the modern viewer go “lololol HOMOSEXUAL!!!”, but it’s not even always the case? The standards of physical affection, vows of devotion, and close emotional bonds even between platonic friends were just different, and while yes, there was a corresponding anxiety about this attachment turning sexual, the fact that it was considered as a worry in the first place shows you how intense these bonds could be. So while the modern viewer may see two men acting like that and go “oh no gay cooties,” this just wouldn’t raise any eyebrows at all to a medieval person, and hence they’re not going to come back with some dumb manufactured homophobic comment.

Next, in re Joe and Nicky specifically: I SORELY long for a scene in this imaginary prequel where after something romantic has happened between them for the first time, Nicky understandably freaks out a little and goes to confession. There is one other guy in front of him, and a bored priest who is not very good at his job. Guy In Front of Nicky (we’ll call him Guy) goes into the booth and kneels. Priest looks at him, doesn’t even ask. “Oh, is it sodomy again? Fine, seven days fasting bread and water, say two decades of the rosary, Ego te absolvo in nomine Patris -- ”

Waiting outside the booth, Nicky can hear this (since remember this priest is Bad at his Job and has apparently never met the concept of confessional confidentiality in his life) and sags in relief a little. Oh sodomy isn’t that bad, right, it’s a venial sin, no big --

“Father,” says Guy, “I confess that I have also consorted with a Saracen in search of a magical remedy.”

(We don’t gender the Saracen, because we don’t believe in supporting  stereotypes, and since it’s established Guy is into Kinky Stuff, you never know.)

Priest LOSES HIS SHIT.

“You WHAAAAAAAT? CONSORTING WITH A SARACEN FOR MAGIC!! THIS IS A TERRIBLE SIN!!! YOU NEED TO REPENT IMMEDIATELY!!!”

Cut back to Nicky. OH SHIT!!! Sodomy not bad, he could deal with that. Consorting with a Saracen?? OH SON YOU’RE DOOMED. SODOMY WITH A SARACEN??? OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO HELL!

Cue Nicky’s silent existential crisis Dying in the background while the priest lectures Guy to within an inch of his life. Finally, Guy decides fuck this priest (not like that, this is not Fleabag) and scuttles out. A thoroughly terrified Nicky thinks about following him, but since the priest has already seen him, he can’t flee. He goes into the booth and kneels down, Quaking.

“What have you come to confess, my son?”

Nicky.exe has stopped working.

“.....jealousy.”

You get the idea. And guess what? This would be COMPLETELY accurate, because if we were using, say, Burchard of Worms’ Decretum, an early 11th-century handbook advising priests what penalties to give to various sins, that’s basically how it’s treated. Sodomy is blown over briefly with the other venial sins as a certain amount of days fasting on bread and water, while Burchard is really, really worried about witchcraft, magic, non-Christian beliefs, and other such things. So again, really, what is “Period-Typical Homophobia?” We’ve already established that behavior between two men that would raise modern eyebrows would be absolutely nothing remarkable to a medieval person, while priests obviously don’t approve of sodomy, but they’re not that fussed by it either. (Unless you’re Peter the Chanter, who’s just a dick, but he is yet again one guy writing about one specific context, 12th-century Paris, and the fact that he’s complaining so much means that it’s obviously happening in reality.) Besides, the whole idea was that sodomy was the “unspeakable sin,” aka something people just didn’t mention or talk about, which is why it can be hard to track down reliable or unambiguous treatments of it. Obviously, queer erasure isn’t a surprise, but it doesn’t mean that these people didn’t exist; it just means that chroniclers, especially monastic chroniclers, didn’t write about it. So even if this is outright happening, i.e. Joe and Nicky’s romance and/or the number of other queer characters we will be sure to include for verisimilitude, there’s still no guarantee that anyone would even actually SAY something.

And besides: not every minute of history was filled with homophobia, just as not every minute was filled with filth, torture, misogyny, etc. There is actually no necessary reason to include it, especially in boring modern homophobia form, unless you’re trying to beat us over the head with Things Being Bad Back Then. Especially if we’re making a movie that honors and empowers queer people, who deserve a chance to escape into a lavish historically detailed gay romance with Joe and Nicky and not have to deal with bog-standard microaggression as a result. Because what I’ve laid out above is just as much (in fact more so) historically accurate, and MUCH more funny, interesting, authentic, and original.

(And thanks so much!! Another GREAT question.)

[kim-ruzek]

Do you think Burzek will end up together before the season ends?

Realistically no, for two reasons:

One) everything they've said about 9x17 does not inspire faith that they're going to enter a relationship any time soon (or get any nearer to defining things which I'm HOPING isn't actually gonna happen because we and they deserve more than that).

And two) the most likely reason to why; simply put I don't think Eid had any intention to stop dragging us over the coals, and while I do actually have faith that Gwen will, it's not just gonna be a case of oh now he's no longer showrunner, let's get these two together in this season (when quite likely Eid never had that as a overall season projection). So even if now Gwen has getting burzek to actually be defined and together as a goal, it won't happen by the end of this season.

HOWEVER, I am very optimistic about it happening in season ten, and early season ten at that. I mean this optimism heavily relies on how Wednesday's episode goes. And it also relies on me choosing the most favourable opinion of the showrunner and writers, which I know is more risky then me betting all my money in a poker game. But I'm hoping Gwen isn't going to be as malicious to burzek shippers as Eid was, and that she understands that we need progress (which I'm fairly certain she does, judging on 9x14 and 9x15).

What I'm hoping out of tomorrow's episode isn't them getting together (although don't get me wrong I would ofc die if that happened, but the articles have pretty much said it's not) but that they (realistically and correctly) move on from the kidnapping and outlines more rules between this thing they're doing. Just them having an honest talk. And honestly I think it should just be about securing Adam's right to Makayla no matter what happens between the two of them. Like if they think, optimistically, it may take a few years for them to heal and grow enough to be romantically entangled that Adam doesn't have to choose to stay because otherwise he fears losing his daughter. Because I think that needs to happen before they get together (I mean it didn't *need* to happen but the show continues to add obstacles so they've made this being the most logical obstacle to tackle first so I hope to god that they actually do and shows that they're not just making drama for the sake of drama, that they at least care about resolving it). I also really want them to get into therapy although I'm not counting on that since Kim basically died and the show didn't have her go, BUT I so hope they do-- or at least have them go to family counseling bc I think more than anything, that's what they need right now! And honestly if they end the season with this being the burzek status quo at the moment, I'd be happy. Not completely, bc I still think a lot of this drama was pointless, but happy.

ALTHOUGH saying all of this, I can actually see them having a burzek kiss/get together in the finale (similar to 1x15!) And then having season ten start with them together, happy and adjusting to this new normal. (Honestly I have an ideal s10 outline in my head and I'm clowning so hard but Idc).

Either way, I'm so hoping 9x17 will go well. Especially bc burzek has shown that they can communicate so this shouldn't be as big of a deal as other stuff. But also mainly because I cannot and I mean CANNOT, have my birthday ruined and I can guarantee you if it doesn't go well I'm gonna be super depressed and I'll be so fucking mad if I am.

Anyway thanks for asking 💞 I'm now very much in my burzek feels

[wosoimagines]

Hey dyke, Im came back just to remind you to go kill yourself. The world was a much better place when you sick fucks didnt exist. Its a damn shame society got away from hate crimes. If I saw you irl I would beat the living shot out of you and curb stomp your fuckin head in the the ground. Faggots like you have no place in this world. All you dykes do is attack straight women and fuck up little kids. Y'all deserve to die. Rot in hell, cunt.

You know what's really funny? You copied and pasted this and you still didn't learn to fix your grammar or spelling. I mean, I would be as angry as you are if I couldn't spell properly or use common correct grammar. But let's get into this.

"The world was a much better place when you sick fucks didn't exist" (oh, btw, if you copy and paste this message again, feel free to fix that error you made since I did it for you). Queer people have always existed. You obviously don't know history since they don't really teach it in school (I'm not surprised because of how old our government is), but if you're gonna make a claim like that, maybe do a bit of research first? I'm sure you even you couldn't fuck that up. But then again I could be wrong since you're still living in your mother's basement.

"It's a damn shame society has gotten away from hate crimes" (Again, fixed your spelling and grammar. Come on, if you're gonna attack a writer, you gotta do better). It really isn't. If hate crimes were still legal it would mean that anyone could cause violence for the sake of a bias. Men could beat and murder and sexually assault women and claim it is because they hate women. White people could kill colored people and get away with it because they claim they aren't white. Hate crimes are not something to joke about. You are obviously a straight cis white man (as we have stated multiple times about you, small dick Johnny) because if you weren't you would understand the seriousness of hate crimes and why they're so scary.

"If I saw you irl, I would beat the living shit out of you and curb stomp your fucking head in the ground" (Do I even have to point out the grammar and spelling again? Seriously, at least use Grammarly because it's fucking free). I can guarantee you wouldn't be able to. While I might have a bad knee, I can throw a punch. Not only that but I can kick hard and I do carry. You wouldn't even be able to do more than maybe throw me to the ground if you were lucky enough to be able to do that before I stopped you in your place.

"Faggots like you have no place in this world." This is very untrue. Think about all of the people who are queer. Do I need to explain to you how much culture the LGBTQIA+ community is responsible for or should I trust you with you being able to do your own research? Oh, wait. Small dick Johnny doesn't even have a quarter of brain cell so I should write it out for him. Alexander the Great, he was queer. Alexander was attracted to men, historians will agree on that. Hatshepsut had a non-conforming gender expression. It means they were more than likely gender-fluid. Leonardo da Vinci. Oh, how I love talking about Leonardo da Vinci. I mean, there are theories that the Mona Lisa is actually his gay lover, but I rather love the fact that the modern-day white version of Jesus that churches love to use is actually Leonardo's gay lover. Alan Turning, a bit more modern for you. He helped the Allies out and we probably never would have won the war against the Nazis during WWII. He was gay. We know that for a fact because he was even charged with homosexuality as a crime after helping win WWII. Sally Ride (honestly, I love her). She was an astronaut. She was THE first female astronaut at that. (She was married to a man for a while, but before her death, she was with a woman for 27 years). Harvey Milk was the first openly gay elected official in the USA. Tammy Baldwin, who is currently a Senator in the United States, is an openly out lesbian. Ellen DeGeneres, who has been a huge part of social media, is a lesbian. Oscar Wilde, who was also arrested for the crime of homosexuality, was an amazing author. Freddie Mercury, who was bisexual, was part of one of the most popular bands in all of history. Elton John, who is gay, is one of the most famous musicians of all time. So, yes, I do believe there is a place in this world for the LGBTQIA+ community.

"All you dykes do is attack straight women and fuck up little kids." This one is just sad. Not all dykes attack women. We certainly don't do it because they're straight women. Claiming that all of us "attack straight women" is like a woman claiming that all men attack women. Do they? No. I've never attacked a straight woman in my life. Hell, I usually won't even flirt or hit on a person unless I believe them to be queer. It's also an illogical thought because we wouldn't hit on what we would perceive to be a straight woman, therefore limiting rejection (or at least I wouldn't). I've seen your other posts to know that you believe flirting with someone who is straight is an "attack" when it isn't. Now to the claim that we "fuck up little kids." Here's the thing, I don't even like kids. I don't want kids nor do I wanna be near them. They annoy me and I wanna dropkick them. Do I? No. Do I also wanna dropkick my brother because he's annoying? Yes. Do I do it? No. That's what you would call restraint. There's no way we all "fuck up little kids" when some of us don't ever wanna be around them.

You are just a sad, sad little boy living in your mother's basement with no friends and no one who likes you. Give it up at this point, small dick Johnny. You're obviously outclassed.

[punkscowardschampions]

China & America

China: [After School] China: Where are you? China: You left your clothes on the bathroom floor and he's threatening to ✂ them up and she's just sitting there nodding America: ✂💳 after buying new 👌 China: Hilarious China: but you'd have to pry his wallet out his tight arse first and he's waving the ✂ about like right now America: 😐 America: terrorist negotiations are a no no China: Oh, believe me, if he knew you were on the 📞 he'd be straight on to shout at you himself America: if he wants me to walk around naked that's his damage America: she's guaranteed not sitting there 😶 when I do China: They're your best jeans China: you already don't have enough decent gear, you're seriously going to risk it? America: they'll be my best denim cut offs America: I don't come running for him China: Because it's not freezing 11 months and a half out of the year, Ricky China: I don't either but like fuck would I let him trash any of my stuff America: move us 🏝🧉 Gaz 👏 China: You want to fake as delusional as her? China: Fine, I'll be the only one living in reality, trying to talk some sense back into the woman and stopping him from ruining literally everything we've got America: back into? America: you've got jokes China: Please China: She was never this bad before China: or at least for this long, it'd be three weeks max of the lovesick bit and then she'd always come back and be mam again America: from your 🏰 that's the view China: There's nothing about this house that's castle like but he's definitely taken the only appeals it had away China: you miss having the parties and the hangs too America: they're still happening America: Gaz doesn't run the 🌏 America: can't roll out of 🛏 onto a dance floor but it's not 😢 China: But it was better when we could throw them China: and there was no rules around here, period China: You're just giving him reason to stay, the man's a raving lunatic, instead of saying no tah it's like his new cause to fix this family and save us both China: Must've been a fucking general in a past life America: there still aren't, his don't count America: & you're not giving him a reason to fucking go so 🤫 China: You say that but any time we have to be here China: and we do, at least some of the time, we can't do what we always did before and he's calling the shots China: I'm trying to figure out what the hell that would look like, what are you doing? America: watch me America: I'll throw a party right now China: Really China: Good luck with that China: Jesus, he'll lock you up, you know he will, if he doesn't do worse beforehand America: What's Daddy Garry gonna do? Hit me? America: They'd lock him up America: & his head'll 🤯 before mine does China: You don't remember some of the boyfriends she's had China: it's not funny, for fuck's sake China: I want my life back America: the trauma hasn't run deep enough to give me memory loss & you're not old enough to play that card America: it can be anything I want, it's my life America: I remember when we had live laugh love on the kitchen wall China: You know what? China: Let him rip up all your sketty clothes China: you're being selfish, why should I help you America: now the 👖 don't know whose side you're on America: they were THE BEST when you wanted me to come back China: I'm on the side of this family China: but you only care about yourself, apparently America: you're on your own side America: you care about having your life back, not what mine looks like China: I'm the one here arguing with him for your stuff right now China: and I just want things back how they were, for all of us China: him gone and her like an actual person with thoughts and emotions about anything that ain't what he wants America: you said yourself he won't leave if I act any kind of way America: he's crusading America: & I don't look old enough to get high enough to do a mam impression America: what do you fucking expect me to do, Chi? China: Help me work this out! China: Together China: you're still here, you don't get to wash your hands of it and ignore it like Zsa does because it doesn't really matter to her China: as long as he isn't hitting any of us and maybe even then, who the fuck knows with her America: don't ! at me America: if it were that simple, togetherness could get fucked China: It ain't, that's the whole problem and what no one else seems to grasp right now China: we act up, he's got more cause to stay and get progressively worse until we can't do anything and go anywhere China: we do what he wants and stay in line, he'll probably get such a boner he'll try to marry her and adopt us America: the audacity of me taking a 🚿 in my own home China: I know China: why is he not telling her to do more washing? America: be a controlling fuckwit but make it useful America: you could be wayyyyyyyy more productive with this, sir China: I'm not saying that's right either but it's all about how WE have no respect China: she's stopped doing anything that isn't doing her 💅💄👗 for him and we're meant to do it all, apparently America: Mam has respect for his 💪🍆🍑 China: 🤮 China: It goes without saying, but he's literally fuck ugly America: but I DEMAND it's said America: he needs to know on the regs China: He's got this one wrinkle on his forehead that's so deep I reckon it could hold a ✎ China: I hate him America: if you put your 💄 in there next time he's 😪💻 , I'll let you use a DIFFERENT ONE on me China: Alright China: I'll use one of hers America: would she end it if he had 0 hair? America: or eyebrows China: His hairline is dead and she acts like she don't notice China: It's like a spell, or something America: I know someone who'd come over for a face tattoo America: or 🍆🍑 if that's all she cares about China: You do not China: and he doesn't have enough of either to cover, shh America: I do TOO China: Who? America: Si is bored enough without your parties he bought a tattoo gun online China: Oh God China: do not do it he'll be so bad, never mind the hepatitis America: & he's dyslexic China: 😂 China: I can't wait to see what bullshit he decides to misspell on himself then America: [sends her some pics because imagine] China: He's so lame China: I can't believe Gary has wrecked my chance with Jake America: his da is a fuckwit too you'd think he'd be more understanding China: like I wanna tell him anything about this China: it's shaming enough we can't throw the parties no more and everyone knows why America: he's part of the everyone, he already knows China: doesn't mean I want to go and cry about it China: I've got some pride, thank you America: he should have some America: never throws a party at his own house China: That was one of the only things we had going for us America: weakkk America: you have things going for you, ask mam when she recovers from this illness China: Okay, the main thing China: but he's going to start going out with Lucie now instead, I know it America: Lucie's been out with half his friends before him America: not a ringing endorsement, like China: Yeah, she's a right slag, and she'll do it anywhere so she don't even need the free house America: get nan out of hers, she'd do it for the sake of your love life China: We have bigger problems China: sort that one and the rest will fall back into place, yeah America: biggest problem that we don't know how to sort it America: I'll get him to hurt me 🚨🚔 we're almost there China: That's not a solution China: and they won't do fuck all about it until it's serious China: too serious to control America: is if it works America: we know he wants to throw me out the window with the 👖 America: & maybe all the boys will think I'm into some hardcore bdsm shit China: Shut up you don't know anything about that America: 👌 Jake's vanilla that's a shame China: You're 12 and that's not the kind of reputation you want or are gonna have China: that's for girls like Lucie who have fuck all else to offer so they have to go hard with that degrading shit America: told you there was more on offer from us than a free house 😛 America: but stop walking into all my traps that easy China: You're such a dick 🙄😏 China: I didn't mean that was all but fucking hell, it was clearly a big draw China: so many people are airing me right now America: you know who doesn't care about parties? America: the people you air China: Who??? America: [a list which obvs includes Bobby and Libi on it and probably Beck as well] China: So you're just going to list every random loser in school for what? America: 😐 America: & you're gonna kid yourself that there's not at least 3 boys on there hotter than Jake America: get out of your fucking ⬛ China: it's not JUST about hot though, is it China: it's all the rest America: what else has Jake got? China: He's cool America: he's not cool enough to throw a party for you America: you're bored China: I am bored right now America: What's the point of Gaz if he doesn't take her anywhere anymore? America: why's she not bored? China: Yeah get this China: they're talking about redecorating America: what.the.fuck. China: I know China: it's looked like this our entire lives because she can't afford it China: now he thinks he can come in and whitewash everything America: remember when that one before offered to put up a roll of wallpaper and she looked at him like he said he wanted to beat you to death with it America: she'd let Gary kill us China: say goodbye to live laugh love China: it'll be RESPECT RESPECT RESPECT America: he needs to fuck off or I am China: Where to China: no one's got a sofa comfy enough or the desire to do any more than offer a night America: I know plenty of people I can get to desire me China: 🖕 China: not falling for it again so soon America: no 🕷🕸 America: they're not people I want, I didn't say that China: That's not a solution, again China: this is our house China: and our mam China: we need to sort it America: I know China: I can't think around them though China: I need to get out America: meet me [wherever the hell she is rn] China: Okay China: as I have nowhere else to be rn America: bring me a jacket China: assuming you've got one left after his tantrum China: that WILL be resumed, when you're relocated 🙄 America: if he's that desperate to text me China: He's that desperate to shout 'til he looks like a 🍅 America: 😋🤤 China: If you liked it or him at all, you'd be here America: I'm waiting here for you America: with ☕ China: I'm on my way America: I'll text Jake to be here & 🏃👌 China: You will not America: you wanna see him & you're not gonna hit send China: Because I have dignity, I don't know why that's a foreign concept to you China: and I don't even want to see him America: you do, you're losing it that he doesn't wanna see you China: Don't be dramatic on my behalf China: and getting my little sister to beg for me, that's hardly going to win anyone over America: I was gonna pretend to be you China: Ha! China: I'd love to see that, not America: party trick America: if we ever have one again China: If anyone wants to come by the time we've worked this out, it'll be a miracle America: it is getting 🥱 China: Seriously China: not getting aired for no reason America: you should listen to me about nan America: have one there China: The only person who would have a party at their nans house is Libi Foley America: it is mint there China: 🙄 America: it is China: Why? She got a trampoline? 👌 America: getting low if you're getting jealous America: [but whatever pics or vids we have from being there however many times we have like] China: I don't know what you reckon is cool in [whatever year they're in] these days America: her 🏠 America: some of her friends America: but I think I scared her off China: Well forget her China: She thinks she's something special but she's so not America: you're not describing her China: Sure China: If she's making you feel shitty she's hardly the 😇 everyone thinks she is America: how did you twist it to be her fault from what I said? America: 🤯 China: You aren't scary, she can't hang America: she didn't have you green lighting her on what cool is America: that's why I can China: She's super immature America: that shit must fly cos she's super well liked too China: With other people on your list, maybe America: you know she's got friends on friends, we don't have to downplay it America: it's not gonna make us feel a new way about any of the 💩 going on China: Literally why are we talking about her China: I've got so much more on my mind America: You brought her up to veto nan's house as a party place America: cos you don't want her to hate you too China: It isn't a party place, she's an old lady China: that would be so lame China: she doesn't have a boyfriend, where are we sending her? America: bingo America: use Zsa's flat then, she has a boyfriend, he's all she ever talks about China: Her tiny one bed China: I could have a few main people, potentially America: Princess and the pea isn't a sexy story America: if you're gonna kick it like that with Jake he will fuck Lucie in the PE block China: That's his prerogative if he wants to catch herpes America: everything doesn't have to be perfect America: you 🔊 like Gary China: If Asia is going to stop talking to me, it needs to at least be worth it America: you could trash the place and she'd think she did it 🔎 for her fake gucci belt China: 🙄 China: at least we don't have to worry about her man lasting America: ✂️💖 China: I don't know why they do it America: what are you doing with Jake? China: I'm not China: not like them America: I don't believe you China: Well first off, he's actually decent looking and cool China: and that's the difference China: Gary isn't, and whatshisname isn't either China: and I'm not throwing myself at him America: he isn't cool to me America: if it was so different you'd care about that China: How is he not? America: 🤡 China: What the hell does that mean? America: he thinks he's funny and he's not China: You don't have to think he is China: you're not interested and he's not interested in you China: that's a bit different to Gary fucking up our lives and taking over our mam America: he doesn't need to talk about me ever then China: I'm sure he won't...? America: 😐 China: He's not talking about either of us right now America: 🎊🎉 China: Happy for you America: I'd be happy for you if you used the Gary situation to get a boyfriend who's less of a dick China: Like who? China: [list boys from that list] China: LOL America: 🖕 America: [because we know the boy she likes is on that list honey] China: Who do you fancy then? America: dream on, shady bitch America: I'm not revealing my secrets now China: 😂 China: Omg go on China: I'll work it out America: if Gaz keeps treating me like a little girl without the choking, spitting in my mouth or giving me euros to spend, it's not gonna matter America: he'll think I'm immature China: You're such a dick China: but he's older then China: narrows it down America: as old as you, not as old as daddy Gary China: Well I can work out who it isn't then America: you've got other shit to prioritise China: You should get a boyfriend your own age America: I'm not getting one China: When you do, then America: when I do I won't be doing a poll of our year America: he's fun that's why I like him America: the 2 years aren't what's making me 🤤 China: What's fun mean America: he can hang China: I know who it is America: happy for you China: He's okay, I guess China: if you like that sort of thing America: what the hell does that mean? China: He's a bit China: but if you like him America: a bit? China: Annoying China: but you don't have to see him around school America: I thought you had a real concern! China: I'm not mam, we've still got one China: I just don't think he's cute but he's not like, the worst China: I don't know why he hangs around with who he does though, maybe he's weird America: Jake is who you think is cute & cool so 🤫 China: He's the hottest boy in my year China: who isn't like, the preppy sporty type America: & he acts like it America: talking down to everyone China: You're dramatic America: 😐 America: he is, behaving like 👑 China: You're acting like I'm married to him, for starters China: we were never even officially going out America: cos he wants to fuck around & find out who else is 🤤 China: He can do what he likes America: with Lucie & you won't care at.all. China: 🖕 America: me getting 🍆 could bring mam out of her coma China: If she finds out before Gary China: that might actually be a decent way to look into it China: 'cos clearly, 👑 has failed to save us all America: 👌 I'll do what I can China: all you have to do is heavily hint you are, in the 0.2 milliseconds he leaves her alone America: I'll stand on the 🚽 while she's 🛁 China: Take a piss test China: that should trigger the fear response America: they're expensive America: be going in Gaz's wallet again China: nah, you can get them for a euro in dealz China: market for the skanky slags like Lucie, duh America: I'll go after school tomorrow, he won't be leaving her alone tonight after ✂👖 China: Ew China: I'm definitely finding somewhere else to be America: seconded China: This is ridiculous China: Nan's going to get fed up of us crashing at hers America: that day came a month in China: but like, fed up to the point he'll talk her out of letting us because we should 'be at home' or whatever the fuck China: 🕠 running out America: What a flirty little game of 🐈 & 🐁 America: game on, Gaz China: 🙄 China: We've got no choice so, yeah America: Where are you gonna go? China: 🤷 China: I don't know America: come with me China: Where are you going? America: When you've got nowhere else, 3rd degree questioning's pointless China: Why is it hard to answer a question? America: I don't have an answer yet China: Right China: well, whatever then America: whatever yes or whatever no? China: So you need a dedicated answer, do you? China: You invited me, shouldn't make any difference if I do or don't come, as you've got no idea where you're going America: & you think my pretend babydaddy is annoying China: He very literally is China: if you wanna talk about thinking you're funny, Jesus America: he has a basis for it America: he's got jokes that aren't about what every girl at school looks like China: He's got adhd China: I think America: When he said he was on 💊s not what I thought he meant China: He must have it bad he's so twitchy still China: and he never shuts up China: which is probably why he's friends with the deaf kid America: I take it back, you and Jake are well suited 🤡 China: What? That's not a joke China: it just makes literal sense China: he's so loud America: You're being a dick China: Oh I am not China: it's not like I'm saying it to his face America: you know I like his face & you're saying it to me China: Well you know I like Jake and you're being a dick about him so in that case, we'd be even America: he can help having a shitty personality, that's not the same as an adhd diagnosis China: okay then China: an excuse to have prescribed speed America: what's your excuse for not calling the deaf kid by his name? China: Why does it matter? China: You knew who I meant America: it matters that you're back in your 🏰 China: 🙄 Shut up China: again, not talking to him, just you America: no shit, you don't talk to anyone outside of your ⬛ America: just me China: We're sisters so China: we have to talk, so sorry America: I know how to do a smoky eye & take a drink, that's your main criteria for what a cool girl is China: You wish America: it's not something I'm prioritising pre or post Gary America: you're stuck with me anyway China: And you're stuck with me China: at the minute, that's basically all we've got China: Zsa is literally not taking it in, no surprise there China: and nan is drinking the kool-aid on him now so America: I'll bring mam back with my 🤰 it'll be fine China: **fake 🤰 America: I assumed that was clear cos of having no real 🍆 inside of me before tomorrow America: Gary probably doesn't want to kiss & make up like that, I'm only 12 China: What do you mean tomorrow? America: assuming I do the test in front of her then China: Don't require you to actually do the deed, idiot China: s'all fake, we don't need you to go have a fake abortion, Jesus America: I'm just saying we don't need to waste time typing out a distinction like **fake when it's obvious China: Don't be a twat, I was just saying China: you're so bloody pedantic today, my God America: Don't be putting some kind of tempting fate 🤰 hex on me before I've even done anything with any boys China: Don't be a little slag and nothing will happen China: not going to be me or fate doing anything about it, you're in control America: right now Gary is America: 🚫🍆 China: It's about more than that America: I know China: You don't get it America: What don't I get? China: I've lost loads of friends China: maybe all of them America: you'll get them back the parties are America: when* China: yeah America: I'm fixing it China: **WE are America: did you save my 👖? China: Yea China: I put a load of washing on China: so now you're gonna owe me a thank you China: didn't know what else to do, he likes pitting us against each other I reckon America: I bought you ☕ ungrateful bitch China: UM, I meant you're going to owe me a grovelling thank you arselick because Gary says so China: I'm behaving and you're not, right now, cheeky cow China: anyway, I'm nearly there so don't fucking bin it America: I'll put washing on when my newborn is sleeping China: Fucking hell 😂 China: It's tragic, isn't it China: I can't think of anything more tragic China: poor mam China: poor nan America: how old do you have to be before they let you get sterilised? China: Oh, so old China: tell 'em you want to live off the state forever and have 14 of 'em and maybe they'll change their fucking mind America: Gary would do it for me if he was any fucking use China: If you ever really get pregnant, the botched abortion would do it America: I'll pitch the idea to my 1st boyfriend China: Good luck America: we're in the right place 🍀 China: Are we? China: Doesn't feel like it America: for a backstreet foetus killing scheme anyway China: Whatever brightside, I guess America: you sound as tired as I feel America: how early did he wake you? I think it was still fully dark out China: I swear, only solid he's done me China: loads of time to do a full hair and make-up routine America: What classes do you even have with Jake? Like 2 China: Oh, so now just 'cos I don't want to look like a bag of shit that's all about him too? China: Are you sure YOU aren't like them? China: Ugh America: you don't look like 💩 America: it's about him if you suddenly think you do China: I don't think that I just China: I'm not winning anyone back 'round if I do America: it's about the lack of parental supervision not your lack of split ends America: on every level you know that China: It is not China: that's a big part of it, but it is not all of it America: if it's not all of it where are they all? China: There's plenty of boys who care about pretty China: even if Jake isn't one of them China: if I have a desirable boyfriend, that's fucking something America: Jake does care about pretty, that's his main priority America: & why he's a dick to me China: You should've said China: you fancy him America: I'd fuck Gary before him, you delusional cow China: Ha, okay China: you're the one who's so hung up on how he treats you China: I'm so sorry he doesn't fancy you back but I'm actually not because you know I like him America: cos I want you to give a shit that your not boyfriend is like bullying me China: Wow, bullying now, really? America: you're asking for me to throw this ☕ at you China: I won't even come if you're going to be this China: melodramatic China: what do you mean bullying you? America: I mean every party you've thrown he's said something unnecessary to me China: Can you be more specific or America: can you not take my fucking word for it? China: Well not really China: like, if he's just made some passing comments it's not really bullying, is it America: 😐 America: 👌 make excuses for him & keep telling me you're doing things different China: For God's sake China: since when are you so sensitive? America: I've kept my mouth shut until literally now China: As you said, literally, he's joking America: I'm tired & I've typed the name Jake more times than I've ever wanted to China: You can't just accuse people of shit they haven't done China: if it was that simple, we'd say Gary was touching us and ta-da, problem solved America: I'll go down that route if the 🤰 fails China: It's not a fucking joke China: fuck this America: it is if you think I'm living like this for the next 6 years minimum China: You think 4 makes it any more palatable? America: telling a lie to get rid of him is the least of what I'm prepared to do China: I can't think straight right now China: save your ☕ I'm gonna go somewhere else America: Chi China: It's fine America: you're basically here China: I'm going China: I've got plans now America: you do not China: I do now America: with who? China: None of your business America: with who China: Who do you think China: happy now? America: what.the.fuck. China: Leave it alone America: Have you been talking to him all along? China: No, actually China: though I'm sure you won't believe me America: can't believe a word any of you say America: I hope he gives you herpes China: Nice America: You're not, why should I? China: You started this China: and for your information, I've never slept with him, or anyone else America: I did NOT China: then you got in my head America: not on purpose China: I've got my own life America: that wasn't in question China: I don't need your pity America: I don't feel sorry for you China: Good America: I'm fine too, thanks for asking China: You've got friends, who don't just use you for parties China: as you've been so keen to rub in America: & you're calling me over sensitive China: Joke all you lie China: k* America: you think Jake's are better China: Yeah, I do America: 👌🍆😗 China: Jealous much America: LOL China: Enjoy pining after Tweak America: 🖕 China: Enjoy your evening, that's my plan America: talk yourself into it harder America: maybe you will China: 👌🍆😗 America: 🤮🤮🤮 China: I'm not faking a pregnancy America: Lucie's not fake swallowing China: Ugly girls have more to prove America: you 🔊 like Jake America: he'll be excited as hell China: yeah he will America: 🎊🎉 he can stop trying to suck his own dick 🥳 China: you're just a kid China: let me know where you end up, Zsa's or nan's China: and I'll take the other 👌 America: you can take either cos I'm doing neither China: You know what, fine China: I shouldn't be the one doing this America: What this do you mean? Whoring yourself out to Jake or pretending you care what I'm going to do China: Looking after you China: are any of them in your messages? doubt it China: he's got no right and he goes too far but at least he'll be giving a shit where you are America: I don't need tabs kept on me, I'm going to MJ's not to 🍆 or 💊💉 China: 👍 America: I had a feeling Gaz wouldn't be stepping up to make 🍝 China: I can thank him for the diet too America: he'll be thrilled to hear about the 🍆😗 part of it China: I'm not planning to regale him with it China: 'cos not tempting an assault tah America: Mam & Zsa will have more useful tips China: I don't need them China: thank God America: just Jake telling you what he likes 💖 China: Piss off America: 🏰👑💖 China: Yeah, really feel it America: he'll make you feel really good about yourself China: What would you know about it, Ricky? America: it's what you want him for, I know that China: Why wouldn't I want that? China: Just because you've not had it ever America: Why can't you get it from someone else? China: Because I like Jake China: end of America: 😐 China: and every girl but you does too America: [lists all the girls that don't aka the lesbians, other girls he has shaded and girls like libi who are shamelessly in love with someone else/have boyfriends they care about even a little bit] China: 🙄🙄 China: You've got too much time on your hands China: not going to list every girl that does China: you know who I meant and that it's true America: I just spent a decade I won't get back waiting for you China: I wasn't about to come to MJ's and beg for food with you so America: I didn't invite you there, it's where I'm going now since you're on a Jake's jizz diet China: Don't be gross America: It's you who likes him 🤢 China: It's you who keeps talking about his dick China: like, stop America: I'm desensitising you America: so you can bear to look at & touch it China: I don't need that America: then this is me 🤫 China: 👍 China: Thanks China: Guess I'll see you in school tomorrow, or just before, pretending we've been 🛏 or purposely showing we're just coming in China: who knows what will be more effective in the AM America: you do one, I'll try the other China: Yeah China: know which one you'd prefer China: I'm not playing nice so you don't have to, like I always have America: you weren't playing when it was just you & mammy America: neither was I China: She was fun China: before America: I know China: What's not to like America: as her favourite, you would say that China: 🙄 America: & it doesn't matter who she was America: she's a zombie now China: we'll get her back America: What's the cure for swallowing Gary's bodily fluids? China: She's had worse China: equally as bad America: built up immunity China: There's no immunity to shitty men America: as you've proven China: pot kettle America: I don't like Jake, you're deluded China: I wasn't talking about him, moron America: 🖕 China: No, he seems like SUCH a cool, chill guy America: you'd be a shady bitch whatever you think he's like cos you're mad I don't wanna hop on Jake's 🍆 China: Yeah, SO mad China: you're twisted China: and delusional if you think it'd be any kind of competition America: you admitted you want me to be jealous & that his appeal is everyone likes him so yeah America: your priorities are twisted China: When did I? America: read any of this chat back China: 👍 Good one China: I really don't care what you think China: your taste is clearly trash America: I'd follow your ☕ into the bin but it'll make me late for 🍝 China: 😱 China: Can't have that China: I'm waiting for my bus, talk later America: 👋

[lovelylogans]

where you lead, i will follow

previous chapter / chapter nine / next chapter

start from the beginning!

ao3 | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: hospitals, needle/ivs, coughing, fever, sick stuff, pneumonia, arguing, classism, pregnancy scare (in a flashback), mentions of dysphoria, death mentions (only mentions, don’t worry!) please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairings: moxiety, logince

word count: 22,124

notes: hoo boy this chapter was a DOOZY and i’m v curious to know how it’s gonna go over, so, fingers crossed y’all like it!

virgil hates hospitals. well, arguably, patton hates them more, he always hates going to the doctor even if it's just for a check-up, but the fact that patton is alone back there and delirious and in a place he's afraid of without anyone who knows him to comfort him kind of makes virgil want to put his fist through a wall, so he doesn't think about that, and instead he keeps pacing this stupidly tiny waiting room, clutching his hoodie, not even putting it on properly, because he'd given it to patton when he started shivering and shaking and succumbing to his chills and not breathing a word of complaint about the cold he must have been feeling and virgil had given him his hoodie and patton had sniffled and looked at virgil like he'd made everything okay, so he can't put it on until everything's okay again. right? (it makes sense to him.)

he keeps thinking about patton. not even worrying about him, though there's plenty of that, but memories keep flashing through his head, and it's almost unbearable, to think about patton happy and healthy when the memory of patton lying on his face in his dark house is right there and virgil left him, he left him—

("i've figured it out," patton says triumphantly. he's twenty-two, and virgil's twenty-eight, and logan's freshly six, on his way to the diner to meet with patton after school, when he'll decide if he wants to stay and do homework at virgil's or go with patton to the inn.

"figured out what?" virgil asks, amused despite himself, seeing how smug and satisfied with himself patton is right now.

"The Hugging Problem," patton says, and his grin grows wider. "i've figured it out."

ah, yes. The Hugging Problem. it had been discussed between virgil and patton so often that it warranted the capital letters. The Hugging Problem was that logan had decided he was a big boy now, and didn't need hugs or comfort, even when he was upset and clearly really, really needed a hug and some comfort.

"you did?" virgil says, intrigued despite himself. "how?"

patton taps his finger to his lips, grinning. "that'd be telling."

"patton," virgil whines, "you can't just tell me you have a solution to The Hugging Problem and not tell me what it is—"

"well, i can't just tell you the solution to The Hugging Problem," patton says conspiratorially. "i'll show you. when he needs it.")

"virgil!"

virgil pivots, then, to see logan, in an exquisite, bespoke, expensive suit, rushing toward him, face drawn and tight and worried.

"is he—?"

virgil's already shaking his head, crossing his arms tight over his stomach. "no news. they took him back there to run some tests, or get the fever down, or both, but—"

logan's nodding, and then brushing past him, immediately, to the welcome desk, staffed by a nurse or at least a someone in scrubs.

"excuse me," logan says, voice threaded through with a sense of authority that reminds virgil so strongly of the first time he met emily sanders that it sends a chill up his spine, "my father's been admitted here, patton sanders, would you happen to have any information on him, a room number, maybe, or what tests are being run on him?"

the nurse checks something, glances at virgil (who'd filled out patton's paperwork when they'd gotten there, and he knows all of patton's insurance info because virgil helped him set his up back in the day and virgil's been his emergency contact since that time patton thought he had appendicitis but it was really just a terrible stomach ache because he got food poisoning from al's pancake world) and nods.

"i'll have someone check on that for you," she says, in the tone that means maybe, eventually.

"do," logan says tightly, and comes back toward virgil. virgil reaches out and carefully squeezes his shoulder. for some reason, he feels like something is missing. he dismisses that thought, because the something is probably behind the doors he's forbidden to cross into, it’s the something that he just left behind and he can't—

"hey," he says, and squeezes again. "look at me."

logan looks him in the eyes—tormented and worried and anxious in a way a kid never really should have to be, ever.

"your dad's gonna be fine," he says, trying to make his voice sound gentle, but with some kind of authority.

"you can't know—" logan begins, adam's apple bobbing.

"logan," virgil says, holds both his shoulders now. "look at me. i'm saying that. me, who always thinks every worse scenario is one thousand percent guaranteed to happen. i am. and patton's gonna be okay."

logan takes in a shuddering breath. "but—you're panicking."

"i'm always panicking," virgil says softly. "and i'm panicking right now because we don't know what's going on, not because i think there's any chance of something happening to your dad."

logan surveys him for a few seconds, eyes sweeping up and down his face, staring into his eyes, and virgil's expression must present the answer he's looking for because he relaxes, just a little, slumping into virgil's touch, and virgil knows better than to pull him into a hug right now so he just compensates by squeezing his shoulders a little harder before letting go. logan's arms cross in front of his stomach, too.

"not because i think anything's—going to go wrong," logan says, haltingly, "but... dad has a will, doesn't he?"

"yes," virgil says cautiously.

logan licks his lips nervously, before he says, "if something—if dad didn't—look. i'd want my guardian to be you."

virgil's arms drop from where they're wrapped around his stomach, and he turns to face logan more fully, mouth hanging open in awe, just a little.

"it has to be you," logan says. "if something happens."

"nothing's happening."

"i know," logan says, and he sounds like he really does know it, the way he knows nellie bly had her pencil confiscated from her in blackwell's and was told she never brought one, the way he knows anne royall blackmailed president adams into an interview by catching him skinny-dipping, the way he knows the new york times printed, the day after the launch of the apollo 11, a retraction of an article about no rocket conceivably leaving the atmosphere and reaching the moon. just fact. "just... so you know."

virgil swallows past the sudden lump in his throat.

(—dead on his feet, even as patton pushes a mug of (plain) coffee into his hands, leaning against the counter.

"thanks for helping me with him," patton says wearily. "i love him, he's so smart, he just gets so... nervous. you know?"

"i know," virgil says dryly, and patton winces a little. virgil waves it off. "and you don't need to say thank you, anyway, not when it comes to helping logan. i'll always try and help him. i know he's yours but—" barely a pause, and then, a sleepless tumble of a confession—"i always thought he was a little mine, too."

patton doesn't take offense. he just smiles, a secretive little thing, and takes a sip of coffee.

"well," patton says. "of course he's a little yours. you're a little ours too, you know.")

"yeah," virgil croaks, and clears his throat. "yeah, okay."

"good," logan says stiffly.

"right, good," virgil echoes.

they'd probably stand there saying "good" "good" back and forth and back and forth until a nurse finally appeared to wave them back into patton's room if it wasn't for the burst of noise a good way down the hall.

"but why can't i see him?!"

"they're running some tests."

"well, we would like to meet this doctor who's testing him."

"you will."

"some strange man is working on our son, we have a right to meet this person!"

"you will."

"and i want to see the room you're going to put him in."

"you will."

"and stop saying 'you will,' put together a proper sentence, for god's sake!"

"ma'am, sir, please just wait here."

—and a harried nurse leads emily and richard sanders into the waiting room.

oh. great. just what he needs. patton's fucking parents.

(—patton's eighteen, virgil's nearly twenty-four, and logan's nearly two, and patton has given logan over for virgil to babysit for a while with a written list of instructions and a packed bag, and virgil's only a little terrified, partially because logan's never spent the night at virgil's before without patton there and partially because logan is pre-emptively putting the terrible in 'terrible twos' and partially because patton got his top surgery today and he's being looked after by his parents, and virgil certainly has some Opinions after hearing about the way patton was raised and the environment that surrounded him until he ran away to sideshire.

everything's going fine until virgil realizes that logan's favorite jupiter toy isn't in the bag.

he has seen the meltdowns logan has without that thing. he needs to get it. he can only really hope that the room's empty and he can go right in, go right out, and logan will be reunited with his toy and no one will be any the wiser.

fucking alas.

he walks into the room juggling logan and the duffle bag and the spare key maria gave him, because patton had panickedly rented a room rather than let his parents have any idea about him living in the poolhouse, only to walk in to two very finely-dressed people turning from the bed where patton's lying to see the door.

"papapapapapapapapapa," logan babbles happily as soon as he sees patton, reaching out and opening and closing his chubby little fists, as if to say to virgil hand me over immediately! and virgil can't help but smile a little at the sound of it. logan's been doing this thing lately where he adds thirty more syllables to a word than is necessary, if he's excited about it. it's real cute.

"who are you?" demands the woman suspiciously, the woman who must be patton's mother. patton looks nothing like her. or the tall man with the tie on, who must be patton's father.

"virgil danes," virgil bites out. "i'm babysitting logan, just need to grab a toy of his, so. i'll be right out of your hair."

"oh, well, that's not necessary," emily says briskly, walking forward and holding out her arms expectantly. "we can look after him."

without thinking, virgil shifts so that he's more clearly between her and logan, so that she would have to step around him to grab logan. her eyes narrow.

"yeah, well, patton told me to watch him," virgil says. "so i'm gonna watch him."

"papa," logan says, and tugs at virgil's hoodie. "virgil, papa."

virgil winces. "i know, kid, sorry. he's taking a nap right now, okay? we gotta be quiet. shhhh."

logan frowns at him. if there is one thing he doesn't like (the things logan doesn't like are very numerous) it's being told to be quiet. which is fair, really, virgil doesn't like it much either.

virgil spies the jupiter toy, half-hidden under the wardrobe, and goes over to grab it, handing it over to logan, who takes it with a pacified, cheery little babble and immediately sticks it into his mouth. god, virgil dreads the day a toy won't work as a distraction for him anymore.

"don't be ridiculous," emily tells him. "he's our grandson."

"no offense, lady," virgil says, "but you could be the queen of england. patton told me to watch him, so i'm gonna watch him. end of story. besides, patton's going to be a handful medicine-wise and i don't particularly trust you very much anyway."

"i beg your pardon?!" richard says, flabbergasted.

"consider it begged," virgil says. "and to be perfectly honest, knowing you're patton's parents doesn't endear me to you, like, at all, knowing what i know, so."

"how dare you," emily snarls.

"yeah, i'll dare, because your son is one of the best people i've ever met, and you don't seem to understand that whatsoever—")

virgil's violently yanked from his reverie when emily starts up, again.

"my great-uncle founded this hospital! his portrait is hanging in the lobby, go look, it's right above the sign that says 'founder!'"

"holy shit," virgil says, and quickly steps between emily and the nurse that she's harassing. "i'm so sorry about her, seriously, you're doing a great job and any news whatsoever would be appreciated, please ignore her."

the nurse spares a look for emily, gives him a grateful look, and they hurry off.

"ignore me?!" she fumes. "ignore me?!"

"yeah," virgil says, pivoting, "i know you're pretty good at ignoring any of your kid's boundaries, but you also seem to like flooring over them without any regard for his welfare, so i'm sure treating people like they're actual people instead of like they're scum beneath your shoe is gonna be a great big moral dilemma for you. i'd say i live in hope that you'll let people be on their own, but you seem to have a lot of trouble letting people exist on their own terms, so."

oh shit. okay, so, he's started it. fuck. patton's gonna hate that.

"how dare you speak to my wife in that way," richard begins indignantly, puffing himself up like a bullfrog.

"yeah, i got plenty for you too, buddy," virgil begins heatedly, but he sees a flash of a brand new, costly suit, and forces himself to fucking cool it, jesus christ, "but that's not helping right now, none of this is helping, i get that i snapped and i'm a hypocrite, my bad, but can we put aside tearing each other apart the way i know we all want to until we know what's wrong with patton?"

virgil punctuates it with a very significant glance toward logan, who was not old enough to retain and remember the first round of this particular throwdown. emily seethes, richard glowers, but they cluster off together, in their own little corner.

emily reaches to make logan a part of that, make it sanders family vs random diner outsider, but quicker than a flash and slicker than oil, logan slips from her grasp and goes to stand at virgil's side. sideshire vs grandparents.

and suddenly, virgil's brain catches up to where logan's made the logical leap. patton has a will. he must have outlined who logan's guardian or guardians would be in case of his untimely demise. and since patton asks him whenever he involves virgil in anything legal—being made an emergency contact, for example—and he'd definitely ask virgil before penning him down for something so significant without so much as virgil's say-so.

and if virgil wouldn't be logan's guardian...

"and for god's sake, don't harass them for doing their jobs," virgil can't help but tack on, and turns to look away from—them.

("—virgil, did you, um?"

"yeah?" virgil asks, struggling to hand over logan, the duffle bag, and patton's to-go order of hot cocoa/coffee without spilling or dropping anything or anyone. logan's really mostly squirming to get back to his dad, anyway, and patton quickly takes him before he can squirm himself straight to the ground.

"i just," patton says, and frowns, shifting logan so he's on his hip. "i thought you came over when i was recovering. i dunno, it was probably an anesthesia dream, or something."

it wasn't, virgil thinks, but, well. what good would that do? he dressed down patton's parents, they tried to dress him down back, patton had cracked his eyes open enough to, in his drugged haze, coo at logan, who bopped him softly on the nose with a closed, slobbery fist, before virgil booked it before the sanders' shouting could wake patton up permanently. what good would it do to tell him all that? he'd hate that he was being argued over, anyway. so virgil just makes sure that everything's all handed over and doesn't say anything about it.

"you recovered all okay, then?" virgil says.

patton puffs himself up proudly. "yep," he says happily. "all cleared to work and lift logan," he tilts the hip with logan on it, trying not to wince, as logan has started tugging his hair, "as long as i'm careful about it."

virgil smiles. "good."

"it is, isn't it?" patton says, looking down at his own chest, finally flat without any help from a binder, and virgil reaches out to clap his shoulder. logan takes the opportunity to start babbling for attention at virgil, tugging his hoodie sleeve, as if virgil hasn't been waiting on logan's every whim for the past three days.

"lookin' good, man," virgil says, sincere, and patton beams at him. it just solidifies the belief virgil's had since the first night he met him: that patton's parents don't deserve him.)

"patton sanders?" a nurse calls, and, identically, all four of them advance on him.

"we've gotten the fever down to a point where seizures are less of a concern, but he's still pretty out of it," the nurse says, brusque. "he's in a test room right now, but we'll take him to his room shortly. we've run an x-ray and we're waiting on those results and some culture results before we—"

"pneumonia," logan says hollowly. "you think it's pneumonia."

virgil hadn't known what any of it could be, hadn't even remotely thought to prepare himself for it, but it still hits him like a blow to the chest.

("—they could give you some medicine to keep that fever down," virgil says. "make sure it isn't anything worse."

"virgil," patton says patiently, "it isn't anything worse."

"how do you know?"

"because i just feel sick, not like i'm at death's door," patton says, and sneezes into his kleenex. "crummy but not crumbling—")

i am literally never listening to your refusals about going to a doctor to see if it's anything worse ever again, virgil thinks, half furious, half scared-out-of-his-mind. left him, you left him, something in his brain hisses at him, accusatory, he’d left patton and now he’s in the hospital with fucking pneumonia—

"it's the most likely result, but it hasn't been confirmed yet," the nurse says. logan sways a little.

"can we see him?" virgil asks, putting his hand on logan's shoulder again, trying to steady him.

"we're still running a test, but once that's done—"

"well, can we see his room, then?" emily says. 

the nurse gestures them forward, and virgil's about to follow when logan swivels to face him, eyes wild.

"i need to do something," he says.

"do what?" virgil says stupidly.

"i don't know, anything," logan says, clearly about .05 seconds from tearing his hair out. "get coffee or make phone calls or do something that isn't just—standing here."

"okay," virgil says, getting it, a little. logan's not exactly patient, virgil's known this for years, and logan's about as well-suited to fretting as he is to smiling and demurring during a debate (that is, not at all.) "okay, um—you got your phone?" 

logan nods.

"call some people at the inn and let them know that patton's gonna be out sick for a bit. after that, get some—" he nearly says coffee but he takes stock of himself and how fast his heart's racing and also remembers half of patton's favorite drink and can't, "—tea, peppermint, preferably. and then go get a paper."

logan's brow creases in confusion, and virgil tries for a smile.

"every morning at breakfast, your dad's been complaining you're not there to interpret current events for him," virgil explains. "he likes it when you do that. maybe get something with a comic section, he likes those."

logan breathes, shoulders slumping a little with the relief of a series of set tasks. "okay. got it."

"right," virgil says. "i'll text you the room number as soon as i've got it, okay?"

logan nods, and sets off at a brisk pace down the hall, woe betide anyone who gets in his way.

virgil picks up the pace so he can catch up, and spots the nurse, who bustles after him, looking even more harried. 

"where's...?"

"your in-laws are currently seeing to it that your husband gets the room with the good view," she says, and virgil shakes himself.

"oh, he's not my—"

then something catches up to him and he realizes that if they think he's patton's husband, he'll have the same family visiting rights as the rest of them.

"—uh, i mean, sorry. yeah. how long until they bring him back?"

"very soon," she promises. "i can appreciate that this is hard for you, sir."

you have no idea, virgil thinks, catching onto what kind of wrath emily sanders might bring down upon this hospital if she realizes that the nurses think her son's married to someone without the right pedigree or a summer house by the coast or an aspiring career as a senator or something. 

"thanks so much for all your hard work," virgil says instead.

emily sweeps down the hall, nearly bowling over some poor man on a gurney.

"we've secured him the room but those pillows are completely unacceptable," she declares. "i'm going to see if i can find him some down ones and some slippers, richard is ensuring the room stays private—" she frowns, as if realizing he's the sole member of her audience right now. "where's logan?"

"he wanted to be useful, so he's going to get his dad a paper and call some people," virgil says. "is patton in the room yet?"

"they're bringing him back very soon, which is an incredible indefinite timespan," emily says. "i'll be back."

off she goes, and virgil thinks down pillows?! with only a slight amount of hysteria. he turns back to the nurse. "which room?"

"202," she says, and he texts logan the room number on the way there, and—

oh, huh. it does have a nice view, all lit up at night like this. there's no bed in the room, though, which virgil thinks is kinda weird, and richard's standing silently at the window, which virgil thinks is also kinda weird.

virgil coughs awkwardly to announce his presence.

"oh," richard says, "it's you."

"uh, yeah," virgil says.

"emily went to get pillows."

"i ran into her on the way here," virgil says, and offers, "logan went to get some tea and a paper, i can text him if you want coffee, or something."

"oh," richard says. "thank you, but no. that won't be necessary."

("—dad wants to take logan to some kind of take-your-kid-to-work-day thing next week, so i'm guessing we'll probably be in here for an early breakfast before i drop him off."

virgil spins patton's plate so that his untouched pile of leafy greens is now directly in front of him. he hopes that logan's eating whatever balanced meal isadora prince has decided to cook up for her son and his new bestest friend without too much complaint.

"what, seven’s just the right age to be introduced to the thrilling world of the insurance business?"

"i guess," patton says with a shrug. "i dunno, dad's always been very—" he adopts a sterner facial expression. "go to work, come home, read the paper, go to bed kinda guy. whereas i, you know. snuck out the window as soon as he was distracted."

virgil hands patton his fork. patton rolls his eyes and obligingly stabs his salad.

"he lives his life the way he thinks he's supposed to," patton says. "worked hard, bought a nice house, provided for my mom. very by-the-numbers guy and i've never been good at numbers. think it gave him the shock of a lifetime that i ended up, well. the way i am."

"but you get along with him better than your mom?"

"dad's disapproval tends to be a lot less shouty than mom's," patton says, with a little sigh. "but yeah, i guess i get along with him better than i get along with my mom.")

"your meatloaf was quite good."

virgil startles, grabbing for the hoodie he's tied around his waist like it's falling to cover for it.

"oh," virgil says, remembering logan's phone call that feels like a century ago. back when patton was healthy enough to pop by the diner and he was conscious and before virgil left him alone when he was sick. "um. thanks. i guess."

richard peers at him. "i know we've met before all this, but i can't quite recall when."

"uh," virgil says. "i mean, i egged your car."

("—oh. it's you."

virgil's spine stiffens, and he turns from where he's been handing over a coffee at the stall of the town-wide easter festival.

"yep," virgil says to emily and richard fucking sanders, who have parked their very fancy car right over there and have decided to come to his stall. "it's me. is there a particular reason you're here, or...?"

she sniffs. "patton said to meet him and logan by the gazebo." she gestures to the gazebo, just to the right of his stall, where the railings are lined with pastel wicker baskets of fresh-painted eggs are waiting to be hidden for all the kiddos to run after and hunt.

"right," virgil says. "well. i've got work to do, so."

"we can wait," richard says.

they wait for about a minute.

"so, you're still acquaintances with my son," emily says, and virgil scoffs without meaning to.

"if you mean we're best friends, sure," virgil says, stacking cups and wondering if he should send one of the part-timers back to the diner to get some more. "then i'm acquaintances with your son."

"don't you think that logan should have a," richard says, casts a discerning eye over virgil's stall, "a better role model?"

virgil, calmly, sets down his cups, and says, "what do you mean by that?"

"well, it's all well and good he comes by the diner sometimes," richard says. "but don't you think he, well."

"don't i think he what?" virgil asks, interlocking his fingers and calmly, calmly presses outward, cracking his knuckles.

"don't you think you might influence him to a, well," he says, "substandard way of life."

virgil's blood's roaring in his ears. "substandard," he repeats.

"well, patton's has done an all right job with him so far, but logan certainly has enough negative influence on that side of things," richard says.

"what, you think patton is a bad influence?" virgil asks disbelievingly.

"when it comes to certain delinquent behaviors, yes," richard says. "he has a history."

delinquent. virgil wants to grab him by his fancy bowtie and yank him close and and choke him, how could he possibly think that patton, whose idea of a fun past-time is walking rescue dogs at the local shelter, is a bad influence?

"so," virgil says, "let's get one thing straight. you know nothing about me, and you know nothing about the influence that patton has on logan, because logan's a good kid and patton is a good man."

virgil's eyes slide to the nearest pastel basket. almost as an afterthought, he snags the handle, which has a pretty ribbon woven around it.

"but you know what? you think i'm some kind of devil on logan's shoulder, pushing him to become a delinquent? i can show you fucking delinquent."

before he can even think, he has two of the eggs in his hands, and with an aim he didn't know he possessed, he lobs them both straight for their fancy, fancy car.

they smack and shatter against the windshield with a satisfying thwack. they aren't quite as messy as regular eggs, being hardboiled, but the paint smears, and the egg remnants litter the trunk of his car, and virgil can't help but laugh at the looks on their faces, and he grabs another egg and throws, and again, and again—

"cool!" logan shouts, from where he's emerged from the prince studio, roman in tow, and patton stares, slack-jawed, and it startles emily into wailing into action.

"richard—richard, stop him, richard—!")

"oh," richard says. "oh, dear me."

virgil's not sure what richard's going to say—i'll send you an old receipt for the cleaning, how did such a delinquent continue to be friends with my son, what kind of example are you setting for my grandson—when the door opens, and there's a rattle of wheels, and—

and there he is. there's patton.

the absence of a bed makes sense now, because they're wheeling him in on one—he's all tucked into too-white, too-starched sheets, with a feeble little blue fleecey thing tossed over the top. he's wearing one of those hospital shirts with the blue dots, and he has on an oxygen mask and an iv and one of those things that clamps down on his pointer finger, and he's—

"is he okay?"

virgil's somehow right beside the orderly, staring down at patton's face. when had he moved?

"he's out of it, right now," the orderly says patiently, "he'll be groggy when he wakes up."

"when's that going to happen?" virgil asks, voice a bit too high-pitched. "the tests? did the tests end up—?"

"the doctor's going to have to tell you that, i'm just the transport guy," the orderly demurs, parking patton's bed and checking on his iv and god, patton looks so pale, so small, the bags under eyes massive, his skin too pale for comfort with the only exception being the flush of his fever high in his cheeks, sweating, his his curls tousled and somehow flatter than usual.

"when's the doctor coming?" virgil asks, digging his fingernails into the hoodie at his waist to keep himself from reaching out and touching patton, from getting in the orderly's way.

"i'm not sure, but she'll come right to the room when she gets here," the orderly says, and, with one last check of patton's vitals, he's off, and virgil—

"i'm going to go find emily and logan and tell them he's here," richard says, and virgil just barely manages to tear his eyes away from patton's face to look at him.

richard looks—faint, he guesses, would be the right word. pale and unsettled and spooked, generally. virgil guesses he understands—if he had to see logan or roman in a hospital bed, he'd be pretty spooked, too.

and not in the way he likes to be spooked. not in the fun halloween way of spooking. the genuinely really fucking scary kind of spooked.

"right," virgil says, and turns back to patton's bed, staring at him. he wants to push his hair back. he wants to hold his hand. he wants—

"i'll, um, i'll be here."

you weren’t, the voice in his head rumbles, you weren’t here, you weren’t here, now look at him—

(and now we hit rewind to see what logan has been doing in the hospital. in a tv show this would be cut scenes, but this is a fic, so. you're getting it in a big chunk.)

logan, meanwhile, has skulked the halls of the hospital. he has been successful finding various newspapers with a funnies section (six separate editions, actually) and successful in finding virgil's tea, but it's—

well, it's the phone calls that are giving him trouble.

see, first he called michel, who's the... you know what, logan's not fully sure what michel does at the inn, he just knows that he's the one who presents dour disapproval to any troublemaking clients and employees who aren't quite up to snuff. he's the bad cop to patton's good cop. michel, unsurprisingly, does not answer. logan really doesn't know what he expected.

then he calls sookie st. james, who's the chef at the inn, and waits impatiently for her glad tidings of a good holiday and at her "how's it going?" he says "dad's in the hospital with pneumonia," and then he has to try to comfort her, which is... something he's Not Good At.

then he calls drella, the harpist, for most of the reason that drella is the only person at the inn scarier than michel, and somehow michel picks up her phone, which is something he doesn't want to contemplate, so he hangs up immediately.

and then...

"you've reached roman prince. i'm so very sorry that you're going to have to settle for my recorded dulcet tones, but leave a message and you'll get the live rendition soon."

"um, hey," logan says, wincing at the sound of his own voice. "i know that you're—that you're probably at the first show of the nutcracker. i nearly forgot that it's still thanksgiving. good luck on all that, by the way, not that you need it, i'm sure you're doing wonderfully. or, well, by the time you listen to this, i'm sure you did wonderfully, but, um, i—"

he takes in a deep breath, glances around to ensure the hallway behind him is still empty, and presses his forehead against the wall.

"dad's in the hospital," he says, and his voice wobbles, just a bit. "i—my dad's in the hospital, roman. they think it's pneumonia. virgil found him on the floor and he couldn't breathe and i just—" he forces himself to breathe.

"i just—dad's going to be back at the room any minute, but i haven't seen him, and i just. can't. so i'm calling people as an excuse not to. which is—foolish. i'm going to have to see him eventually. he'd be confused and upset if i just refused to see him. and it's foolish that i'm leaving you such a long message at all, but i just... i don't know. i don't know, roman."

i don't know what's happening, he doesn't say. i don't know what happened to him, it was a cold, i don't know what happened when he was unconscious, i don't know how he's going to recover, i didn't know until virgil called me, how could i have possibly not known?!

i need my best friend, he doesn't say. i need you. i want to hear your voice. 

what he does say is, "but, um. call me back, whenever you can? you can tell me all about the performance, and i... i don't know what i'll do."

i don't know what i'm doing right now, he thinks to himself in a kind of hiss. what benefit can come from this?!

"sorry," he blurts out. "i'm—apologies. i know you can't do anything about it. i—i'm going to hang up now. bye."

logan removes his head from the wall, "accidentally" spills virgil's tea, and goes to find him a new cup. as well as a snack. and maybe another newspaper.

just. just to be prepared.

(and now we're back to a hospital room where virgil's dragged a chair by patton's bedside, and sits hunched over and staring and worrying the sleeve of his still unworn hoodie between the fingers of one hand and holding patton's hand in the other, pressed against virgil's chest, and he waits and waits and waits to see if he'll wake up. patton doesn't do much more than wrinkle his nose and make soft snuffling noises in his sleep and try to knock off his oxygen mask.)

there's the sound of footsteps behind him, and virgil doesn't turn to look.

"has the doctor come yet?" richard asks.

"no, not yet," virgil says, squeezing patton's hand. they've never actually held hands before, he doesn't think. he wishes this was happening under a different circumstance. it's kind of funny and kind of terrible, when he thinks about how he's known patton for sixteen goddamn years and has only ever held his hand once. 

"richard, i've gotten joshua on the way," emily says, and then they fall into talking about joshua, who is—god, virgil doesn't know, some kind of family doctor or physician or something, but if this joshua dude is going to be able to help patton virgil is absolutely ten thousand percent for joshua getting here, go joshua, go rich people stuff, as long as patton recovers as quickly and painlessly as possible.

patton has fluid in his lungs right now. or something. virgil's not super clear on what pneumonia actually does, but he's pretty sure fluid in the lungs is part of it, and he does not want that for patton. he doesn’t want patton to be here, in a hospital bed, right now. he wants a time machine to be able to go back and slap himself for leaving patton when he was so clearly sick. 

virgil's fully resigned to whatever rich people nonsense has gotta happen for that to no longer be anything close to what's going on with patton's health. god, virgil should really learn more about this. which—

virgil turns enough to see patton's parents. emily has set two pillows on a counter, but they're standing close next to each other, still in their holiday best, and virgil feels absurdly out of place in his jeans and t-shirt and abandoned hoodie. he asks, "have either of you seen logan?"

they exchange looks—one of those Married Couple looks that is so clearly a conversation that no one else in the room can understand—and richard says, "i believe he was going to find some more newspapers."

something in virgil's brain wars with leaving patton alone with these people, the way it did fourteen years ago, or leaving him at all, when the last time virgil left him it turned out like this, but the same thing wins out that won then. the same someone, really. 

he clears his throat, getting to his feet. he squeezes patton's hand, hard, before carefully lying it back down on the mattress.

"i'll get him," virgil says. "just—let me know if there's any change. text logan or something."

"right," emily says, and virgil walks out of the room, trying his hardest not to glance back at him over his shoulder.

he doesn't succeed.

...

patton's nose. has something. on it. he snuffles experimentally and when that doesn't move it, he reaches to move it himself.

"oh, for heaven's sake," a familiar voice tuts, and a hand closes around his wrist. 

patton blinks, and narrows his eyes. ugh, it's so bright. 

wait. it definitely hadn't been bright the last place he'd been. he'd been... home. hadn't he? he'd been home. he'd been hot and it had hurt and he'd wanted hot chocolate and he'd been home. and he's not now. so where is he? 

he tunes in with the rest of his body, then. head like a bowling ball, chest like a whole rack of bowling balls is resting on it, thoughts... for some reason not really able to keep a thread. or keeping too much of a thread. bowling balls. weird. he's so sweaty and uncomfortable that he figures he'll give himself a bit of a pass on making much sense, though. it's probably the cold medicine. oh, a cold shower sounded wonderful, get him all nice and cooled down and get rid of all this sweat and—

ugh, he's so... icky.

"oh," the voice says, startled, "oh, richard, he's waking up!"

and patton swivels his head a little to squint at where his mother is standing, his father bustling in to stand beside her.

"where?" patton rasps at his parents, and his mother sits on the edge of his bed, wide-eyed.

"you're at st. luke's," his mother says. "joshua's on his way, so is the doctor here, and dr. reynolds, you remember her."

gosh, joshua plus dr. reynolds plus the hospital for a cough? that seems kinda excessive.

"mkay," patton murmurs, and closes his eyes again.

"patton, do you think you can lift your head at all?" his mother asks. "i found you some decent pillows. they're not down, but they at least give a little."

ooh, pillows. patton likes pillows. virgil keeps joking that he collects them. virgil doesn't understand interior design. they give pops of color.

there's a cool, moisturized hand at the nape of his neck, though, urging him up, and ouch that rack of bowling balls on his chest, before he's settled back onto the nice new cool pillow.

"better, yes?" his mother asks, and patton hums sleepily. he's ready to go back to sleep. sleep sounds awesome.

"and one more time."

ouch oh ooh nice.

"now if we could just find you some different sheets," his mom says.

oh. these sheets are kinda nice, though. a bit stiff but not bad. he doesn't wanna move. and if she gets him new sheets he's gonna have to move.

"s'okay, mom," patton murmurs.

"maybe you could get dava to bring some from home," his dad suggests.

"s'really okay," patton says. 

"oh, of course," emily says. "why didn't i think of that?"

"don't need new sheets," patton tries to insist.

"they're completely unacceptable," emily says.

oh, now she's done it, patton's gotta open his eyes now.

"the sheets are fine," patton says, a little louder, or he tries to, because he breaks down into coughs when he says fine, harsh and loud, and patton tries to sit up or curl on his side but that same cool hand's at his shoulder, fluttering nervously, before he sucks in a breath and there's that pain in his chest that's been there for the past—however long?—and patton tries to catch his breath.

"—call button must be broken or something—"

"m'okay," patton wheezes.

"don't be ridiculous," richard says.

"i'm not," patton says. "m'an adult, i can handle it."

"it's the fever talking," emily says. "they really don't have that down, whatever that nurse said, feel how warm he is."

a different but still-cool hand, dry and wrinkled, rests on his forehead.

"i don't have a fever," patton sulks.

"you were at risk for seizures," his father says.

sounds fake, but okay.

"i really am okay," patton murmurs, eyes slipping shut again.

"no," emily tells him. "no, you are not."

"i'm fine," patton says, and yawns. "you can go home, you don't have to deal with me anymore."

there's a silence but it doesn't feel like the end of a conversation. patton doesn't wanna open his eyes again, though. he's so tired. but he can't go to sleep yet. but he really wants to. so he'll just let his eyelids rest. that'll work. right? he'll just keep his eyes nice and closed and explain it and they can get on home. 

"fine?" his mother repeats, strangled.

"it's just a cold," patton mumbles.

she sighs, irritated. "patton—"

"know we fought last week," patton says, trying to talk as loud as he can without risking a cough, or without having to breathe too deep. "and m'sorry i made life so hard on you then, n'm'sorry i'm such a disappointment, an' i'm'sorry i took logan away, an'—"

"oh, patton, hush," his mother says, sounding a little strange. "it's hardly the time for all—"

"and i'm sorry, okay," patton insists, cracking his eyes open, because that's important, "m'sorry i can't fix it. but m'an adult now and i can handle things and stuff. so you don't gotta stay jus' for a cold."

"young man, you have pneumonia," his father says gruffly.

"oh," patton says, startled. "do i?"

"well, we're waiting for the doctor to confirm it."

"oh," patton repeats, quiet. pneumonia. that's not good. that's always the illness that kills people in old timey books. that's the illness that they always look out for when things go bad for old people. that's... that sounds serious. really serious.

that's scary.

"patton?" his mother asks, sounding slightly alarmed, and patton tries to inhale a shaky breath, and then another one. he might be panicking, he thinks. 

"i—" he swallows, hard, and says, "is logan okay?"

"what?" she asks, distracted. "yes, of course. he's getting some newspapers and some tea."

"are you sure?" he asks, because logan has to be okay—logan has to be okay. logan's got to be taken care of, he has to be okay.

"yes, of course i'm sure," she says.

"you have to make sure he's going to be okay," he insists.

"he's fine."

"logan's—logan always acts fine, that's his default state," patton says. "but he always hides his emotions. so he'll always get snappy, and sometimes you just have to let him let off steam, and sometimes you kind of have to poke him into it, but after he rants for a while it helps calm him down enough that he can talk about what's really bothering him and—"

"patton," she says, awkwardly, a little helplessly, and patton swallows hard.

"he always overworks himself," he tells her intently. "so you gotta lure him out with new books, or an opportunity to shred the courant or just a newspaper or a publication in general, or a trip to a planetarium or a museum, preferably a science one but if he goes with roman he likes art ones too, or you gotta sit him down with a crofter's jam sandwich and tell him to take a break, because he always ignores it if he needs a break, because he thinks he's a lean mean study machine who doesn't need to do fun things, but he does, because he's—"

"patton, you don't need to tell us all this—" his father tries to intercede.

he ignores him. they need to know these things about him, in case patton isn't in a place to take care of him, they need to be able to take care of him. 

"—i know that you know logan pretty well, especially over the past couple months, but i think that virgil's the best source on all things logan, especially if he's ever confusing or if he's moping or needs anything, so if you're ever lost, and i know you've had your differences, but virgil knows logan just about better than anyone else, except me, and virgil's always happy to help logan, and sometimes logan just needs to talk to someone who isn't related to him so he'll usually go to virgil or roman and that's a-okay, because they're his best friends, and you have to make sure that he gets to stay in contact with them because i never ever want logan to feel lonely or unloved, never ever ever, and if i die—"

"patton, stop!" she snaps, and patton shuts his mouth, immediate, shrinking into his pillows as she looms over his bed.

"now," she says, "there may be many things happening in this hospital tonight, but your dying is not one of them, am i clear?!"

"i—"

"no!" she snarls. "i did not sign onto your dying when i became your mother, so it is not going to happen. not tonight, not for a very long time. i demand to go first. of all the things you have done to us, you will not put us through burying you first, do i make myself clear?"

patton stares up at his mom, and oh. oh, this isn't just scary for him. this is scary for all of them. and patton freaking out isn't helping things.

"okay," he says, very quiet. "okay, mom. i promise i won't die."

she nods, swallows. "good."

patton reaches over and, hesitantly, takes her hand. her free hand flutters up to her mouth, and his mom looks like she's about to cry, and patton squeezes a little, and closes his eyes. things drop off and go a little dark and blurry around the edges before everything goes dark and blurry and—

...

this hospital is a maze, but it doesn't take him nearly as long as he thought it would to find a mostly-empty hall containing just who he's looking for.

"hey," virgil says, coming to a stop next to him, and logan shudders out of whatever train of thought he'd locked himself into.

"hi," logan says, and passes over a to-go cup. "tea. peppermint, even. i found some newspapers and i called sookie. well, i called michel too, but he didn't answer, and then i called drella, and then michel answered. did you know that was—?"

virgil's already reflexively pulling a face.

"thought not," logan murmurs. not quite as smugly as he might be on a normal day after figuring out some kind of secret.

"okay," virgil says. "well, thanks. they brought your dad back and a doctor's due at any minute."

logan nods. virgil hesitates, before he fiddles with the little heat-protecting cardboard ring on the cup for something to do with his hands.

("—hate doctors, hate them, hate them, hate them," patton says, pulling a face.

"i'm the one going to a doctor," eight-year-old logan eludicates. "and it's just a check-up."

"and i have hated going to all of your check-ups since the time you were born," patton says, ruffling his hair.

"he has," virgil says dryly. "i've heard this series of complaints since your six-week check-up. eat your eggs." 

"tell him he could just wait in the waiting room," logan says, but he spears some eggs on his fork anyway. "i keep telling him to stay in the waiting room."

patton looks aghast. "and miss any health updates?!"

"but you hate the doctor," logan says. "wouldn't it be better if you just... didn't? since all of that scares you?"

"me being scared isn't the point," patton says. "it's about me being there for you."

"you don't need to be," logan says.

"yeah, but i want to be," patton says. "that's what a dad does—")

"you can't avoid going in the room forever," he says gently, and logan rears back.

"i'm not," he says.

"it's okay to be a bit freaked out right now—"

"i'm not."

"logan," virgil says, keeping his voice gentle and soft and calm. 

logan slumps. just a little.

"thank you for getting tea and making those calls and getting all those newspapers," virgil says, making his voice keep the same tone. "but your dad's in the room now and the doctor's due any minute. i know it'll probably make you feel a bit more at ease to hear what's going on. right?"

logan hesitates, before he nods.

"okay," virgil says. "so. if you really really want, you can wait outside the room until the doctor gets here. we just want to know where you are."

logan nods, and then he follows virgil back, where he comes to a stop just by the door.

("—not scared," twelve-year-old logan sulks at the counter of the diner. "honestly. me, scared."

"well," virgil says, leaning forward on his elbows, "it'd be okay if you were scared of snakes, you know."

"roman's not scared of snakes," he says. "it's not about me being scared, anyway, it's about—"

"why are we talking about snakes?" patton asks, sitting back down in his counter chair.

"tell your son it's okay to be afraid of snakes," virgil says.

"it's not about me being scared, which i'm not," logan says. "i just don't want to hold a massive boa constrictor on the field trip."

"and no one can make you do anything you don't want to do," patton says firmly. "if a teacher bugs you about it at the zoo tomorrow, you tell them i said that—")

"you sure?" virgil checks, and logan only holds out a pile of newspapers for virgil to take in.

he sighs but takes them and goes in, to where emily is sitting on the bed and caressing back patton's hair with—

it shouldn't shock virgil that she's doing it with maternal fondness. patton is her son, after all, but after all these years of seeing their fighting and patton falling apart after each of them, it feels like... virgil doesn't know. it feels like she should be just as stern and cold now as virgil knows she can be.

"he woke up," richard says, and virgil's eyes snap to him, and to the now-definitely-unconscious patton. "just for a little while."

"was he—" virgil struggles to find words. of course something happened when virgil left. of course. but at least this one seems to be a good thing.

"not quite lucid," richard says.

"a bit more lucid than we'd like him to be, you mean," emily says archly, and turns to frown at virgil. "where's logan?"

"just outside," virgil says. "keeping an eye out for the—"

"—but he's going to be here for how long?" logan asks a doctor who comes in with a short little man in a suit, and virgil can't help but take a step closer. 

"well," the doctor says to the room at large. "the cultures we took and his chest x-ray came back, and i'm afraid that it is pneumonia. he'll have to stay at the hospital for a couple days to ensure that fever stays down and to get him started on some antibiotics."

"how long?" logan repeats.

"difficult to say at this point," she says. "two or three days, at least, maybe longer if it's necessary. but," she says, and turns to virgil. "i believe you managed to catch him before his condition could have gotten much worse. you certainly brought him in before the fever could do any permanent damage."

virgil does not feel like this is particularly praise-worthy. it had mostly just been a terrifying experience. if virgil hadn’t left patton never would have gotten to this state at all.

"but he'll be just fine," the doctor says. "i'm sure it was a bit of a scare, but once he gets started on antibiotics, he'll be okay."

it's like the whole room breathes a sigh of relief.

"now," the doctor says, "i hear he woke up?"

"a little while ago," emily says, and moves aside a little so the doctor can get a closer look at patton. "he went right back to sleep, though."

"that'll be common," she says. "he'll be in and out of sleep, at varying levels of lucidity—"

virgil sees the flash of a bespoke, expensive suit jacket flutter around the door frame.

("—logan," virgil gasps, and scoops him up into his arms. "oh, my god, we were worried sick about you, you can't just run off like that, buddy—"

logan blinks too-big, watery three-year-old eyes up at him, clutching at virgil's shirt contentedly. "didn't run off."

"yeah, okay, nice try, kid," virgil says, trying to hug him close without looking like he was hugging him close. god, that had been the most terrifying five minutes of his whole life. "when we tell you to stay somewhere and you do not stay in that somewhere, that's running off."

"didn't," logan insists, kicking his bare feet. "i was following—"

"logan!" patton shout-sobs, and rushes over, and before virgil can even make a move to hand him over patton crashes into them both, hugging logan between their bodies, hugging virgil by extension, and—

"oh, my god, honey, you can't do that," patton says, semi-hysterically, pushing logan's hair back from his forehead so he could lean in and kiss him on the forehead. "i was so scared something happened to you, you can't just run away like that!"

"didn't!" logan insists again. "i was following a star bug!"

"star bug?" virgil mouths at patton.

"logan," patton says, high-pitched, "if you want to go follow the fireflies, you gotta tell one of us, okay? something could have happened to you!"

"nothing woulda happened," logan says, and, with all the belief of a three-year-old, "virgil was lookin' after me, i was okay the whole time."

patton lets out a sigh, one of the we're not done talking about this but i'll accept it for now ones, and presses his lips against logan's head again, looking up at virgil as he did, and virgil tries to pretend like logan's absolute faith in him hasn't moved him to the core—)

logan's slumped against a wall, hand over his eyes.

"hey," virgil says, soft, and logan sniffs, standing up straight, trying to pretend like he wasn't five seconds from starting to cry.

"so, um, he's gonna be okay."

"yeah," logan says, and swallows hard, fiddling with his fancy new suit coat.

"they're gonna keep him for a couple days, but he's gonna be fine."

"yeah," logan repeats.

an idea occurs to virgil. a really fucking stupid idea.

("—you might have to see The Hugging Solution put into action today," patton says grimly.

"oh, god," virgil says, freezing and turning from where he's wiping down one of the booth tables. "what happened?!"

"apparently logan found out about the library of alexandria today at school," patton says, "and mrs. donnely called to tell me logan was really upset about it."

"how does a six-year-old even find out about—?!"

"picture book, i guess," patton says with a helpless little shrug. "but, just—play along, okay?"

"uh, okay?" virgil says, but then the door opens and a familiar tiny boy sulks his way to the booth, lip trapped under teeth, probably to keep it from trembling, and eyes watery.

another familiar tiny boy has followed after him, loyally toting two pairs of backpacks.

"hello, mister prince," virgil says, snatching both backpacks and setting them by patton in the booth, where—patton has slumped over, and he lets out an overexaggerated, sad sigh, staring forlornly at the grilled cheese he'd been eagerly eating thirty seconds ago.

"i'm supposta go home," roman says, "but logan was really sad boutta book so i decided to walk him here!"

"well, that's really nice of you," virgil says seriously. 

roman puffs up his small chest. "m'bein—shiv-all—shiv-all-rus!"

"wow," virgil says, trying not to laugh. "that's really cool of you, roman. do you want an after-school snack?"

"please!" roman sings, and patton helps lift him into the booth so he's opposite logan, and then sits back down with another long, sad sigh.

"how about you, logan?" virgil asks.

"no," logan sulks in the corner.

"not even a crofter's sandwich?" virgil cajoles.

logan wavers.

"tell you what," virgil says. "i'll make one for you, and one for roman, and if you decide you don't want it, i can send it home with your dad for later, yeah?"

"...fine," logan says, arms crossed, still staring at the wall. patton, mimicking him, crosses his arms and stares at the wall, too.

"i'll let your mom know you're on the way in a bit, roman," virgil says, and reaches out to ruffle his hair mostly because of the tiny squawk of indignation when he does.

by the time virgil comes out with two plates of crofter's sandwiches, patton has progressed to sniffling with his head down on the table, roman petting his hair, and logan looking grudgingly curious from where he's still sitting with his arms crossed.

"okay, i've got two crofter's sandwiches here," virgil starts, but roman looks up at him.

"leave us alone, can't you see he's having a day," roman scolds.

"where'd you learn that?" virgil says, bemused, and roman grins.

"mrs. torres," he says—one of the old women who frequents the studio for sunrise yoga. "did i do it right?"

"you'd do her proud," virgil says, and remembers patton's play along, and pats patton's hair, too. "i know. he's been very sad since he got here."

logan's arms loosen. just a little. "he has?"

"he has," virgil confirms, somber as the grave. 

"oh," logan says.

"mr. patton," roman says, still petting his hair, "is there anything we can do?"

"oh," patton says, and affects a mopey look on his face when he lifts his head from his arms. "well... mayy-be. but i don't know if you three would want to."

"we'll do it!" roman declares immediately.

patton sighs, and shakes his head.

"i dunno, it might be a little silly."

"well," virgil says, a little louder, conscious of how logan's staring, "i think a little silly's okay, if it makes you not as sad."

patton nods, and slides out of the booth.

"virgil," he says, and spreads his arms. "can i have a hug? to make me feel better?"

all at once, patton's plan coalesces in virgil's head.

"oh, yeah, sure thing," virgil says, when he realizes he hesitated a moment too long. he opens his arms. "get in here."

patton steps forward, and virgil wraps his arms around him, a little awkwardly—but patton's warm and soft and he fits neatly against virgil, and he smells nice, so it's not like it's the worst hug he's ever gotten. pretty far from it, actually.

he steps back, and pats patton on the shoulder, for good measure.

"did that help?" virgil asks.

"i think so," patton says, and turns. "i might need another—"

patton is very nearly tackled to the floor by a pint-sized blur of white and red and gold.

"isthishelpingmisterpatton?!" roman demands, and patton lets out a little "oof, gosh, you're so strong!"

roman squeezes patton harder, as if squeezing hard enough will get rid of all the sadness in the world.

patton pats him on the shoulder, and says, "that was very helpful, thank you. you should eat your crofter's as a reward."

"okay!" roman says brightly, and clambers back up into the booth.

patton crouches in front of the booth where logan's dropped his crossed arms at last, but is biting his lip even more ferociously.

"can i have a hug?" patton asks him gently.

"you've gotten two," logan sniffs.

"yeah, but i haven't gotten any from my favorite son, yet."

"i'm your only son."

"that too," patton says, and spreads his arms. "so? i'm feeling very upset, and i'd really like it if you gave me a hug right now."

logan hesitates, eyes darting to where roman is stuffing his face and to where virgil is standing. "this is a hug for you," he declares imperiously.

"of course it is," patton says, and as soon as he says it, logan squirms off the booth and straight into patton's arms, wrapping his arms tight around patton's neck and burying his face into patton's shoulder.

"hey, there we go," patton murmurs, shifting a little, and when he's sure roman isn't looking, he winks at virgil, who suppresses his smile the best he can and—)

so it's a stupid idea, but it's the only one he has.

virgil heaves a sigh, and resigns himself to looking like an idiot.

"i'm feeling very upset," virgil says stiffly, and lifts his arms a little. "i'd really like it if someone gave me a hug right now."

logan sends him the world's most withering glare. the effect is slightly spoiled by the way he sniffs, smears his hand under his nose, and looks away.

"i'm not six anymore," logan says, and redirects his glare at virgil. "that won't work on me."

"look, kid, this hug isn't for your benefit," virgil says, lying through his goddamn teeth. "i have had a hard day. i had a big family gathering and then i had to drive home for hours and then i found your dad unconscious on the ground and had to bring him to the hospital, plus i've had to deal with your grandparents. so."

he lifts his arms higher. "i am upset. i would like a hug."

"you're way worse at this than dad is," logan says.

"yeah, i know," virgil says, "you know one way to put us both out of this misery?"

"are you seriously trying to embarrass me into hugging you?"

"i can keep going," virgil bluffs immediately, even though logan knows full well about this social anxiety. 

logan sighs, loudly. "fine," he grumbles. "fine, if it'll get you to stop."

so virgil steps forward and wraps his arms around the kid, heart panging—when did he get so big? virgil used to be able to practically hold him in one arm, just the space between his hand and his elbow. and now there's this young man, all gawky and gangly and still growing somehow, it's like he looked down and looked up and there he was, sixteen years flown by, except not really, because time was long, but also kind of really? being a parent person who watches a kid grows up is confusing.

he keeps rubbing a hand up and down logan's back, the way patton does when he hugs people. he's picked up a lot of things from patton, over the years. he couldn't say how many.

"he's going to be fine," logan says, and oh, god, his voice wobbles. 

"i know," virgil whispers, and keeps rubbing a hand up and down his back. "hey, i know. i promised he would be, and now we know for a fact he is, right?"

"right," logan says, and sniffs, loudly, and virgil holds onto him tighter.

"it's okay," virgil murmurs. "it's okay, logan. it's okay."

it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, virgil says, choking up himself, vision blurry and then failing as he gives in to the hectic emotion of this whole day, but he keeps talking to logan, and he keeps saying it’s okay, logan, it’s okay and loses track of the amount of times he says it, it's okay, logan, and logan's shoulders shudder and virgil feels his shirt soak through. 

"it's okay," virgil murmurs, sniffs, and keeps running his hand across logan's back. "there we go, l, it's okay."

"don't tell him," logan sobs into his shirt.

"oh, hey, i'd never," virgil says, as soft and comforting as he can. "patton can't know that we both lost it when he was out of the picture for one second, so it's our secret, yeah?"

"yeah," logan gasps, and draws back, smearing a sleeve under his nose, sniffing one last time. "yeah. our secret."

"okay," virgil says, and reaches forward with both hands to frame logan's ever-sharpening cheekbones in his hands, losing all that baby fat he'd been born with, swiping the tears off his face before starting in on his own face. "you okay?"

"yeah."

"you sure?" virgil checks, dropping his hands to logan's shoulders.

"yeah," logan says, and swallows, following the tracks of virgil's thumbs with his own hands, as if to make sure that virgil hasn't missed any. "yeah, i'm okay, i'm good. do i look like i've been crying?"

"nah," virgil says. “do i?”

"no. i don't want anyone to know i—"

"hey, our secret," virgil says.

(there is an eavesdropped neither logan or virgil notice. emily sanders frowns.)

"right," logan says, and scrubs at his face one last time. "this week has sucked."

if it was any other day, virgil would have laughed. logan hasn't used the phrase 'this sucks' since he was about nine. as it stands, though—

"yeah," virgil says. "i mean, your dad told me something really smart once, wanna hear it?"

"i have a feeling you'll tell me anyway," logan says, a solid attempt at a joke.

"even though today—or this week, i guess, in your case—has sucked, you wanna know the bright side?" virgil says, remembering patton's words from sixteen years ago, on the night they met. "i'll never have to do today again."

logan breathes, and says, "i never want to stay with them for that long ever again."

"i know," virgil says.

"i hated it there," he says.

(emily flinches.)

"i know," virgil says. "hey, we can tell your dad about the will thing once he's up and at 'em again, if it makes you feel better."

"it would," logan says fervently. "i fully understand why dad ran away now. you can't—you can't let me stay there anymore, virgil."

(emily flinches harder.)

"i won't," virgil says. "i promise, i won't. i mean, i know your dad only did it because it was a last resort kind of situation—"

"i know that too," logan says, and then, quieter, more miserably, "i yelled at him about it."

all virgil can say to that is "aw, kid," and tug him back into the hug.

"i yelled at him," logan repeats, voice waterclogged, like he's about to start crying again. 

"hey, i know he's not mad at you," virgil says. "he gets it, you know? he gets that you yelled because you were upset at the situation, not at him. i bet as soon as we walk in there, it's gonna make his day that you're there."

logan snuffles, and virgil draws back so that he can look him in the face. "really?"

"really," virgil promises, and he's been promising logan a lot tonight, but the kid deserves some promises that things would be okay, okay, his dad's in the hospital, because virgil left him alone, it’s the least he can do to help the kid feel better. "you know your dad, he's the softest little puffball we got."

logan snort-laughs, snotty and kind of gross, and wipes under his eyes again. "yeah. yeah, he is."

"you're, like, his whole world."

logan shifts, uncomfortable with so many displays of emotion in such a close time span, but he's saved by his grandfather.

"oh, he's waking up," virgil hears richard say, startled, and virgil claps logan's shoulder.

"you ready?"

logan lets out a shaky breath, straightens his tie, and tilts up his chin—proud, confident, a little arrogant. looking a bit more like himself, then, virgil thinks, relieved. he gestures logan to go ahead of him, and they enter the room to see patton, who turns at the sound of the door opening, and patton—

patton lights up.

his face brightens, his dimples appear in full, he beams—hey, wait, was he supposed to take off the oxygen mask?—and he reaches out both hands for logan, as if logan's still little enough that patton can pick him up.

"hey!" he says. "oh, my gosh, hi!"

"hi, dad," logan says, approaching the bed, and patton's smile doesn't falter as logan takes one of his hands, hovering at his bedside. 

"can i get a hug?" patton asks. "just this once."

logan hesitates. "if i hug you, won't it hurt?"

"what's life without a bit of pain?" patton jokes, and then, more seriously, "as long as you're gentle, it'll be okay, kiddo."

logan hesitates, and then, stiffly, bends so that he gives patton the softest, least-squeezy hug he can possibly execute, before sitting at patton's bedside again. 

"i've missed you," patton says, picking up logan's hand to squeeze it again, "so much."

logan's lip quirks up, just a little, and virgil's heart feels lighter, seeing two of the people he loves most in the world all together again—all that's missing is an obnoxious teenage dance instructor.

"i missed you too, dad," logan says.

patton's smile is blinding, and virgil's knees go a little weak, to the point where he sits in the chair next to logan. 

"okay, so," patton says, and pats logan's hand. "me and virgil have been dying without you to tell us everything that's going on in the world every day, let me tell you, dying."

logan's lips twitch. "don't exaggerate," he scolds.

"we aren't," virgil said. "i told you he'd want to hear you talk about current events, that's why i had you get all those newspapers."

logan rolls his eyes, and patton smiles at him, like logan's done something very charming and sweet instead of just made the quintessential teenage facial expression, and virgil can't help but smile a little, too.

"so," patton says. "tell us all about it. tell us about the news, and about your last couple days at chilton before the break, and how your week's been going, i want to hear everything."

so they listen as logan sticks to the safe and relatively unemotional topic of the news, explaining every headline he can, fishing example articles out of his newspaper pile when he has to, nearly crawling onto the bed in order to fully show the articles to patton. it reminds virgil of when he was little, so eager to investigate the whole world, so eager to show it off to anyone who would listen.

patton, even listening as raptly as he is, is still very sick, so can't help but slip off a little. which means that every time logan will trail off experimentally, staring to see if his dad's falling asleep, patton will start and grumble "m'wake, i'm awake, keep goin', i'm paying attention," and virgil will exchange a look with logan and logan will keep going until patton starts nodding off again.

eventually, logan keeps talking, and talking, and talking, even as he notices patton slip deeper and deeper into sleep until—

"i think he's finally asleep," logan says, hushed.

"i think you're right," virgil says. "good work, kid."

"speaking of sleep," richard says, "perhaps we should consider getting home."

"well, i'm not leaving," emily and virgil say in unison, who both jump and glare at each other.

"me either," logan says.

"you need sleep, you're a teenager, you need more sleep than a baby," virgil says.

"that's actually inaccurate," logan begins.

"okay, well, you still need to sleep," virgil says, frowning. "you should go home, to sideshire."

logan brightens at that, just a little.

what ensues is a solid bickering session: on if logan should go home to sideshire or back to his grandparent's house, on if virgil or emily should stay, on who would take which car and on who would bring logan back to visit if he wanted, and eventually it settled out to—

"bye, virgil," logan says. "thanks for looking after him."

"always do," virgil says. "i texted sarah, she's opening tomorrow, but would you mind swinging by the diner to let people know, just in case?"

"of course," logan says. "i'll even pick up breakfast there before i visit tomorrow."

virgil nods, and gives logan a hug goodnight, just because. 

"you're sure you'll be all right?" richard's asking emily, in the background.

"i'll be fine," she says.

"you can call if you'd like me to come back, or if you need something."

"go," emily says, and kisses her husband on the cheek. "i'll look after patton."

richard smiles, squeezes her shoulder, and then logan and richard are gone.

an incredibly awkward silence descends on the hospital room.

emily sniffs, and drags one of the chairs to the opposite side of patton's bed. virgil settles into his—he notes, with slight relief, that his side does not show patton's iv.

"you don't trust me with my own son," she says, coldly, and virgil crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair.

"was i too subtle, the first time?" he deadpans. 

she sniffs again, and sits up even straighter, looking away from him. for a second, he thinks that might be the end of it, and they'll sit quietly in awkward silence until one of them falls asleep or the sun has risen. 

of course not.

"i don't know what gives you the right—"

virgil sighs, loudly, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"oh, my god, okay," virgil says, and leans back in his chair again, worrying his hoodie between his fingers. "there are so many goddamn reasons i don't like you. i have a list in my head that's been sixteen years in the making. do you seriously want me to spend the whole night going through it?" 

she arches a brow at him. that is literally all it takes.

"fine," virgil says. "i don't like your smug rich person attitude. i don't like the way you look down at me because i run a diner for a living. i don't like the way you think your privilege is a goddamn god-given right, like you're some kind of medieval king or something—"

"are you quite finished?"

"like i said, sixteen years, don't rush me," virgil says, kicking back in his chair and starting to tick things off his fingers. "i don't like your tacky rich people hair or your tacky rich people outfit. i don't like how you apparently think the bus is for drug dealers. i don't like most of the things you say about people who aren't as rich as you, actually, but that's a whole other thing. i don't like the car that you had that i egged that one time. i don't like how you think having a lot of money automatically makes you better than other people, i don't like the way you treat your son—"

"how dare you," she begins indignantly, loudly, and patton mumbles, shifting in his sleep. they both freeze.

"look," virgil hisses, "i am fully willing to fight with you, we just have to keep the volume low so that we don't wake patton up, clear?"

they both stare at patton for a few seconds. when she's satisfied that patton isn't waking up, she leans forward, and snarls, "how dare you," at a satisfactory volume.

"i dare because you and your husband are shit to him," virgil snarls. back, at a similarly quiet volume. "because you say fucking terrible things to him, and he's sensitive, and soft, and a good man, and he deserves better than you two jumping on him every time you get the chance—"

"you know nothing—"

"i know nothing?!" virgil snaps. "are you fucking kidding me?!"

"no, i most certainly am not!" she declares. "you know nothing about the way our lives have gone, you know nothing about the way our family works, and you have no right to pretend to know."

"oh, i don't?"

"no, you don't!" she says, strident. "it's none of your business how—"

"none of my business?!" 

"it most certainly is not!" 

"it is when patton shows up crying in my diner!" virgil hisses, fingernails digging into his hoodie. "it is when that's what's been happening after family gatherings with you for years! it's my business because sixteen years ago a kid holding a baby showed up and started sobbing in my diner and decided to stick around town, just because the first place he pulled into someone showed him some goddamn kindness for the first time in months, it is when you're messing with the life of my best friend and our fucking kid—"

"you are not logan's father—"

"look, i might not have contributed anything to logan's dna makeup, but that doesn't change that he's our kid," virgil says roughly. "patton's known that for years and logan has too."

there's a flicker of what might be surprise on her face, before she angrily sets her jaw.

"they're the ones whose opinion i care about, so i don't particularly give a fuck what you think about the fact that i've basically adopted your grandson," virgil says. "and i might not be one of logan's biological parents, but jesus christ, i'd never call him a disappointment, not in a million years. so all things considered, i'm pretty sure that makes me a better parent than you."

patton makes a soft snuffling noise in his sleep, and his head tilts a bit in virgil's direction. virgil tries not to feel too victorious about it.

"you have no idea what he did to us," emily says.

"yeah, i do," virgil says. "i was there. i saw how much it tore him apart. still does."

she stares at him, and says, quietly, "i wasn't just talking about him running away."

oh. virgil leans back a little more. right. patton's rebellious teenage years.

("okay, so, you gotta be careful when you try this, right?" virgil says, holding a shot of vodka a bit like it is a nuclear bomb. "drink it all down at once, then you drink this sprite right after or else it'll feel like your throat is burning—"

patton, freshly twenty-one, only stares at him, amused, and downs the shot like a pro, barely pausing to sip his sprite and grin at virgil, to the cheers of the other attendants of patton's fairly sparse birthday party.

"virgil," he says patiently. "this isn't the first drink of alcohol i've ever had."

"oh," he says lamely. "right."

patton snorts and pats him fondly on the cheek. "maybe when i get drunker i'll tell you all about my various teenage shenanigans."

"will it give me a heart attack?"

patton's grin turns a little vicious. "probably," he says. "i mean, it nearly did for my parents. would you say being a teen parent or riding along with chris when he crashed his porsche two hours after his parents got it for his sixteenth birthday is more heart-attack inducing? or the times i shoplifted from department stores? or my five separate fake ids? or maybe my boyfriend who referred to himself as 'the dragon witch' and got me an honorary place in a biker gang? or—"

"patton, oh my god—"

"i'm just warming up, here, we're not even in the good stuff yet," patton chirps teasingly.

"the good stuff? good stuff as in, like, bible study, right?" virgil says, trying to make it a joke to cover that he's about to hyperventilate, but patton laughs and accepts another shot from maria with a nod of thanks before he can get really into it, and then when he surfaces from that shot he demands the music be turned up so he can dance, c'mon, virgil, dance with me dance with me dance with me it's my birthday you gotta dance with me—!)

"okay," virgil says, "as someone who was also pretty stupid when they were a teenager—"

she narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, and he rolls his eyes in return.

"you cannot seriously tell me you haven't done a few dumb things in life you regret," virgil says. "i hung around some kids who weren't the best influences—we called ourselves The Others, i know, it's stupid—and do i regret a lot of the stuff i did with them? yeah, i do. but i've bettered myself, i've moved on, and i've grown. patton has too."

"oh, he has," emily says doubtfully. "of course he has. suddenly, my eyes are open. you've delivered me nirvana. of course patton is no longer a teenager, why, i must have been confused because he insists on continuing to act like one."

"act like one?" virgil repeats cluelessly.

"it clearly isn't news to you that we and patton argue often."

"yeah, no, it isn't," virgil says. "i mean, patton's defending himself, but sure, whatever."

"through asking logan to treat us like lepers?" she snaps. "that doesn't strike you as immature behavior?"

asking logan to treat us like lepers, virgil mouths, and then, "you think patton asked logan to give you a hard time? are we talking about the same patton and logan?"

"well, why else would he—?"

"because logan is a smart, stubborn kid who hates the fact that patton has to sit through you two bullying him in order to secure money for his schooling, holy shit," virgil says. "because logan picks arguments like florists pick flowers, and if someone messes with one of His People it basically means free reign for him to fight back."

"well—"

"logan's literally a debate champion," virgil says. "you're telling me you think it's more likely that patton, your son, the same patton who didn't want to bother anyone when he came down with fucking pneumonia, that patton, you think it's more likely that that patton asked logan, who once got into a full-on argument with a four-year-old who told him that newspapers were stupid when he was fifteen, to be mean to you. you think that patton asked that logan to pick a fight? seriously?"

she crosses her arms and huffs, and suddenly, it clicks.

"oh, my god," virgil says. "you wanna know what your problem is?! you still think that patton's sixteen."

"of course i don't—"

"no, listen," virgil says, warming up to this theory. "patton runs away, and that sucks, i get it, i'm not arguing that. but the only times you see him after that until pretty recently are, what, holidays? so you don't see him on a day-to-day basis anymore. so you didn't see him grow up and grow up fast. and you still refuse to see him grow up, because he's your kid, and on one level i get that because logan becoming an actual adult scares me a lot, but on the other, seriously, lady, patton's thirty-two. he has a house and a good job and he's getting his degree and he has done a great job raising logan, who is, i think we can both agree, while being incredibly infuriating sometimes, is also one of the best teenagers on the face of this planet."

her nod is really more of a jerk of her chin.

"honestly, if anyone would be telling logan to pick a fight with you, it'd be me," virgil muses.

her eyes sharpen. 

"you told logan to—" emily begins, and virgil rolls his eyes.

"no," virgil says, "because when i don't like someone, i don't tell a sixteen-year-old kid to pass on the message for me, god. i'm just saying that if it was between me or patton telling logan to pick a fight, it'd be me."

a pause, a sniff, a "well, that i can believe."

"in the interest of honesty, or whatever, i have been telling patton to not let you into his life anymore for years," virgil says.

the look on her face isn't what virgil's expecting. virgil's expecting her nostrils to flare, her jaw to clench, her eyes to ignite with fury. he's expecting a loud outburst. he's expecting rage. what flickers across her face isn't that. 

virgil thinks it might be fear.

why would she be afraid of—oh. 

oh, that's why patton won't hear about cutting them out whenever virgil brings it up. that's why patton won't hear about leaving them. because he did it once, didn't he? he did it when he ran away to sideshire. 

"he won't listen to me, obviously," virgil says, refusing to acknowledge that he might be saying this to comfort her, but just to establish where they're at, in the fight. because, like, obviously patton wouldn't do that, but she clearly has a skewed idea of who her son is, so. 

"but it's a whole routine. you all fight, you upset patton, patton comes to me, i tell him to cut you two out. he makes excuses. you two... i dunno, god, patton apologizes for whyever you chose to fight him, or he at least smooths things over enough so that you guys get together for the next holiday, the cycle starts again." virgil waves a hand. "he gets irritated if i bring it up too much, so i don't. he's entirely too optimistic about you." 

she's quiet. virgil waits a few seconds, before he continues.

"and you realize that i'm definitely not the one who'd convince patton about cutting you out, but you know the one person he'd do anything for, even if it broke his heart?"

she's gone a little paler. "logan," she says.

"yeah," virgil says. "logan."

"logan wouldn't," she begins, but falters.

"if you keep fighting with patton like this, he might," virgil says. "logan hates it when his dad is upset. he hates it."

"he hates my house," she says, sharp. "he hates me and my husband."

virgil gawks at her.

"what?" she demands. "weren't you going to throw that in my face? weren't you going to lord it over me that he'd rather you be his guardian than us?!"

"i'm not that much of an asshole, jesus," virgil says. "i didn't—i didn't know you'd overheard that."

"yes, well," she scoffs, and fiddles with some of her bracelets. "when patton woke up, then, he kept trying to tell us how we could better take care of logan. even then he said that if we were at a loss, we should contact you."

"i," virgil begins, and shakes himself. "he said all that?"

"when we told him he had pneumonia, he seemed to be under the impression that he was—" her voice cracks. she does not have to say dying out loud—it's written all over her face.

virgil swallows hard, and looks to patton, slumbering peacefully, the beep of his heart monitor, the reassuring rise and fall of his chest. i left him, i left him, and he thought he was dying, he got so sick that he thought he might die because i left him— 

"oh."

"he promised he wouldn't."

"he better not," virgil says hoarsely.

"hmph. yes."

"i—" virgil looks at her, then back at patton. "i mean, he's right. i do know a lot in the whole 'care and keeping of logan' thing."

"oh, i'm sure," she mutters sarcastically.

"i could make it a whole lot clearer, lady," virgil mutters right back. 

she looks away from him, nostrils flaring. 

"i just—look," virgil says. "you realize you have to stop fighting with him, right? all it does it push them both away."

she might be about to say something, but before she can, patton makes a mumbling noise. they both freeze. 

patton's head nods down, sharply, before it tilts back up again. he squints.

"virgil?"

"yeah," virgil says, inching forward in his chair, itching to grab his hand again. "yeah, pat, it's me."

"mkay," patton murmurs, and yawns. "s'logan down for the night?"

oh, gosh, virgil hasn't been asked that question for at least twelve years. virgil figures he may as well play along, let patton get back to sleep faster.

"yeah," virgil whispers back. "yeah, he's out like a light."

well, hopefully true, when logan gets home.

"how many stories did it take?"

"oh, you know logan," virgil sighs, remembering how many storybooks logan would tug from his expansive, second-hand collection and stack them in his arms up to his chin, looking up at virgil expectantly, as if to say we both know you're a softie, you're going to read me all these, let's skip the argument, except virgil would pose a slight argument anyways and convince logan to let go of maybe three of them, because logan had always had virgil pinned on that whole softie thing.

"about a million. i made one up for him, too."

"was it about cecil the space pirate?"

"cecil the space pirate," virgil confirms, lips twitching. wow, the things patton's fever-addled brain thought up. virgil's nearly forgotten about cecil the space pirate, one of the only make-believe stories logan continued to tolerate even as he grew older and older and older. virgil's pretty sure that the second birthday story roman ever wrote for logan was about cecil the space pirate.

"mkay," patton murmurs. "i got work in the morning, don't i?"

"nah," virgil says. "nah, you get to sleep in tomorrow, lucky you."

"you'll be at the diner for breakfast?"

"'course i'll be at the diner for breakfast," virgil says. "i own it."

"want waffles," patton murmurs sleepily.

"if you're nice to me," virgil says.

"m'always nice to you," patton slurs.

"yeah, that's true," virgil concedes. "okay. if you're extra nice to me, how bout that?"

patton lets out what might be a giggle, but he's so close to dropping off again that it's hard to tell.

"get some rest," virgil murmurs, and hesitates, before he reaches over to brush patton's hair back. he promised he wouldn't. i’m not leaving you again. "you just go ahead and go to sleep, patton. i’ll be right here."

patton sighs, head tilting a little further into virgil's touch. he's not nearly as warm as he'd been when virgil found him, which is good, but still too warm for virgil's taste.

he can see emily, out of the corner of his eyes, looking a little more relaxed.

"i'm not finished with you, your days are numbered," virgil hisses in her direction.

patton hums at him quizzically, mumbles, "wha'?"

"i said, do you want some water?" virgil covers quickly, smiling falsely at him. it turns a bit more real as patton squints an eye at him.

"you don't gotta fuss 'bout my hydration all the time, you know."

"ah, but fussing's what i do best," virgil says gently, smiling at patton as he combs his fingers through patton's curls in a slow, repetitive motion. "go on, close your eyes again, there you go. go to sleep."

"you don't gotta fuss about how much sleep i get either," patton sighs, but closes his eyes obediently. his breathing evens out, soon enough. 

she's silent. virgil's thought about this fight—how it might go, where it might happen, who would win—for years. exactly none of it has gone according to how his brain said it might go. virgil has a lot of opinions on emily and richard sanders and the way they treat their son—on days where they've been behaving themselves relatively well, he thinks they're stuck-up, snobbish assholes, and on days where they haven't been behaving well virgil thinks about the things that patton tells him that they say to him and thinks about how they're something that starts with "emotionally" and ends with "abusive," and how patton would be so absolutely in his rights to cut them off, and he has wanted to fight emily or richard sanders for years. and now it's here.

and now it's... off.

"we want the best for him," emily says.

"that's exactly what he says, yeah," virgil says tiredly, and runs his fingers through patton's curls again. "the trouble is, what you think is best for him and what's actually best for him are two entirely different things." 

her lips twitch, with bitter humor. "that's exactly what he says."

and here's the crux of it: "but you don't agree," virgil says.

"no," emily says. her chin tilts up, proud. "no, we don't."

any sympathy virgil has toward her is gone. he kind of wants to reach across patton's bed and throttle her. they're in a hospital, they're in the right place for it.

"why the fuck not," virgil manages to hiss it and not shriek it. she's so close to understanding, so close to actually catching on and getting it and maybe, miracle of miracles, patching up her and her husband's relationship with patton, but now she doesn't get it?!

"because what he thinks is best for him is not the same as what is actually best for him," emily says. 

"okay, then, what do you think is actually best for him?" virgil asks, with a twirl of his free hand he realizes with muted horror he probably picked up from roman.

so she lays it out for him. patton getting his degree is all well and good, but he should get it from a "better" establishment. patton being a manager is all well and good, but not in the inn business—if he adds a bit onto his degree, why, he could go into insurance too, and be a manager there soon enough. and patton having a little country home is all well and good, but he should move into a neighborhood more fitting for him—a house that would be closer to chilton. a house that would be closer to her. and, well, if patton stumbles across a few friends of hers—the sons of members of the dar, the kind of sons who have privilege and strong savings and investments and would be able to take care of him, and  if they just so happened fit emily's bill of approval to a t—well, that certainly wouldn't be too bad for him, either. and with logan going off to an ivy soon, well, he might get lonely, it would be good for him to have someone, and maybe, just maybe, there could be other little perfect grandbabies on the way, and—

"okay, so, what i'm hearing is," virgil cuts in, "basically, you want to redesign his whole life."

"well, not his whole life," emily says. 

"what are you leaving him from the life he's managed to build in this 'donna reed' style daydream, just logan?" virgil says incredulously. "a little small-town summer house he can escape to?"

she blinks at him. "that seems reasonable."

"that seems like patton would be miserable," virgil says. 

she looks at him, blank. "why?"

"well, one," virgil says pointedly, "sure, patton's open to having other kids, but the only way they'd be biologically his is if he'd donate an egg. he never wants to be pregnant again, you do realize that's what messed up his brain to the point it did, back then?"

she looks at him, gobsmacked. "and how would you know that?"

(—patton's nineteen, and starting to go on the occasional date, which is kinda weird but patton's an adult and he can do what we wants, and currently he's going slightly steady with one of the businessmen who swings into town every other week or so, and it's going pretty well, or so virgil's heard and thought until patton careens into the diner one night, eyes huge and watery and gasping, and virgil's out from behind the counter before he can even think.

"hey," he says, and "hey—" and patton's face is crumpling up, and no, patton doesn't want to cry in the middle of the diner in dinner rush, so virgil says, "c'mere, c'mon," and puts an arm around his shoulders, trying to shield him from sight of everyone in the diner, quickly getting him through the back and patton bursts into tears as soon as the door to virgil's apartment shuts behind him.

"patton, patton, patton," he says, hushed, and patton, red-faced and crying, just holds out a shopping bag. virgil blinks, takes it, and takes out one of the three identical things that's in there and—

"oh shit," virgil says before he can really temper his reaction, and patton starts crying harder, and virgil curses, dropping the unopened pregnancy test on the ground, stepping forward and opening his arms in invitation and patton buries his face into virgil's chest, sobbing.

"i don't wanna be pregnant again," he gasps. "i don't wanna be—"

"okay, okay, it's okay," virgil says. "it's okay—do you know if—?"

"not yet, i was too—" patton gulps, and croaks, "i can barely afford logan, and i love him so much, but i can't—i can't do that again, i can't—"

"it's really rare for trans guys on t to get pregnant, right?" virgil says gently, and patton sniffs, louder, and nods.

"okay," virgil says. "okay. here's what we're going to do, okay? we're going to sit down on my couch."

they do.

"we're gonna get you calmed down," virgil says. "next, you're gonna drink some water, and you'll take it."

"and if i—?"

"we can talk about your options if the test's positive," virgil says gently. "but take the test first. okay? then we can cross that bridge if we get to it."

patton snuggles harder into virgil, hiccuping, and virgil runs his hand through patton's hair, over and over, until his shoulders stop shaking as much. 

virgil gets him some water. virgil waits when patton goes into the restroom. virgil waits as patton comes back, buries his face into virgil's lap and curls up hard, hiding from the world.

"why do you think you're—?" virgil begins. 

"i got really bad morning sickness, with logan," patton whispers. "migraines too. and i'm—i just, my period's been irregular since i started t, and it's mostly stopped, but there's been some spotting and i looked it up and that's a symptom too and i—"

"okay," virgil murmurs, trying to mentally sort what each of those might be—summer flu, dehydration, he admittedly doesn't know much about periods so he can't really say much about that—"okay. um. have you guys been, um...?"

"using protection, yeah," patton says miserably. "but apparently that's not very useful when it comes to me, so."

"huh," virgil says. "with logan?"

"condom broke, we think," patton says, and wearily runs a hand over his eyes. "or at least that's the most likely explanation."

"yeah," virgil says, and runs a hand over patton's hair again. he's about to ask patton if he's doing okay, except the timer goes off, and patton lets out a keening, horrible whine.

"i can't look," he whispers. "virgil, could you—?"

"yeah," virgil says, heart in his throat. impulsively, he kisses patton's head. "yeah, of course, i'll look."

he checks the guide. he takes a breath. he looks at all three tests. and then he double-checks them, and double-checks the guide, and he walks out of the bathroom to see patton hugging a pillow to his stomach, hunched over it.

"well?" patton whispers.

"well," virgil says, "i think you have the summer flu, or something, and you should probably make a doctor's appointment to ask about spotting, because you've got three nopes in there."

"oh," patton chokes out, and buries his face in his hands. "oh, thank god."

"yeah," virgil says, and goes over to the couch, hugging patton again. "yeah, buddy, you're okay."

"i just—god," patton manages. "i mean, i want another kid at some point, probably, but i can't—i can't be pregnant again. i can't do that. i mean, i love logan, i love him so much, but being pregnant with him—what it did to my brain, what it did to my mental health, i can't—"

he chokes up, and can't go on, and virgil's heart breaks a little.

"that's totally understandable and you do not have to justify yourself to me, or to anyone else," virgil says firmly. "hey, do you want me to get you a brownie, or something? i think you just put the 'scary' in 'pregnancy scare.'"

patton lets out what might be a giggle, a bit too hysterical to make virgil actually happy, but it's a giggle, nonetheless, and—)

"we talked about it once," virgil says evasively, fingers twitching through patton's hair as if to comfort distress that's thirteen years past. "look, just—none of what you just said would make patton happy, are you serious?"

"i wasn't talking about patton being happy, i was talking about what would be best for him," emily says. 

virgil blinks. "i'm not following."

she lets out a long sigh, as if he is being deliberately obtuse. "it would make patton happy if he were able to eat nothing but waffles and pasta and sweets all day. it would be best for him if he ate fruits and vegetables and maintained a balanced diet."

"that's an entirely different thing," virgil says hotly, withdrawing his hand from patton's hair and starting to pick at a loose thread in his hoodie.

"is it?" she challenges. 

"yeah, it is," virgil says, "because his life isn't as temporary as a meal. what's best for him in his diet is nowhere near the same way you should treat your life."

"that is where we disagree," she says, terse. "i believe what is best for him is not necessarily what makes him happy. there are procedures put in place, proper plans to be followed."

"doesn't what he want matter to you?" virgil says.

"what he wants is immaterial. sacrifices are often necessary in order to what is right."

virgil stares at her for a few moments, lets her words sink in, lets himself reflect on what following that might have been like, and—

"i am really indescribably sorry for you, right now," virgil tells her, and she sniffs.

"you hardly need to be. i was perfectly happy to follow the life i had set out for me."

virgil stares at her for a few more seconds, and she huffs.

"save your emotions," she says. "i've had just about my fill of them tonight." 

virgil snorts. "finally, somewhere we agree," he mutters.

they're quiet for another long stretch of time. 

"you genuinely think you know what's best for him?" she says, and virgil starts.

"i," virgil says. "yeah. better than you do, anyway."

"why?" she says, and then, derisively, "because you're in love with him?"

virgil doesn't quite reel back like she's smacked him, which is kind of how it feels, but he does pinch the fabric of his hoodie between his fingernails.

"no," he says. before he can say anything else, she plows over him.

"you look at him like he's a porterhouse steak!" she says, vindictive. 

"i do not," he says.

"oh, please, you look at him like he's about to give you a lapdance."

virgil just about chokes on air.

"i do not," virgil insists, "and anyway, that's not what i was about to say, i wasn't about to deny being in love with him, of course i'm in love with him."

she falters.

"i was going to say that me being in love with him doesn't change that i know what makes him happy better than you do," virgil says. 

"fine, then," emily says. "please tell me what you think would make him happy."

"his life, now, for the most part," virgil says. "living in sideshire, managing the inn. waiting for logan to get home from chilton, logan telling him about working at the courant, supervising roman and logan sleepovers. i think the biggest change would be if he got along with his parents."

she stares at him for one second. two.

virgil shrugs. "that's what would make him happy," he says simply. "that's what he wants. when he came home from lunch or brunch or whatever it was with you guys and logan and you guys managed not to fight the whole time, he was so happy."

she's silent.

"and i think that's what you want too," virgil says quietly. 

she's silent for a long time—enough time for patton to stir again, and, slightly hilariously and slightly heartbreakingly, seems to be stuck firmly in the headspace of logan still being a baby, and virgil soothes patton's mumbled worries about how logan's colic should be acting up by now before patton drops back off again. and by then, emily seems to have gotten control of her emotions again.

"you haven't put yourself into that little scenario of yours," emily says.

"the way we are now makes him happy," virgil says simply. "and that's enough for me."

she snorts. "idiots. the both of you."

virgil snorts a little, too, ducking his head. he rubs his thumb and forefinger against the worn spot on the cuff of his hoodie.

her eyes zero in on it. "did you," she begins, and then, almost suspiciously, "did you make that?"

"oh," virgil says, and awkwardly, "um, i mean, i bought the hoodie. but all the extra stitching and fabric and stuff, yeah. i did that."

"hm."

"i gave it to patton when we were on the way here," falls out of his mouth before he can stop it.

she looks at him a little closer. "you did?"

virgil coughs, awkward, and redirects his glance back to the sleeve he's worrying between his fingers. "he was, um. he had pretty bad chills, and i kept turning the heat up in the car, but it didn't help. and he wasn't saying anything, but i knew he was cold, so i gave it to him, but the orderlies had to take it off before he could go back in the test room, but i—i haven't been able to put it back on since."

his mouth snaps shut, and he's fully aware of his cheeks burning, fully aware of her eyes on him, and he stares even harder at the little imperfect faded oval he's rubbed into the fabric over the years, rendering that section of cuff a shade lighter than the rest of it.

"stupid, i know," he mutters.

she's quiet, for a moment, before she says, "i haven't been able to bring myself to change any of the decoration or furniture in patton's room since he left home."

he doesn't really know what to say to that. it feels like... he doesn't know. if it was any other person than one of patton's two parents, he'd say it feels like an olive branch. but with them, virgil's so used to hearing about arguments and bickering and favors offered with full knowledge they'd be paid back in full later, so it doesn't. it feels like a business deal. or like one of the faeries in the stories that virgil used to read to logan, before he insisted he outgrew such things—the kinds of sneaky wishes that would come back to bite you, in some way. it feels like a rabbit's foot. it feels like a monkey's paw.

"he has a way," virgil says at last. 

"he does, doesn't he," she says musingly. 

"yeah," virgil says, awkward.

there's another pause, a long stretch of quiet. enough time for a nurse to come and check patton's vitals, update his data, smile benevolently at them both, and leave.

"not that i'm asking your opinion," she says severely. "but your... idea. of how patton would like to lead his life."

virgil looks up, blinking at her. "yeah?"

she lifts an eyebrow at him imperiously. "do you think it's possible?"

"oh," virgil says. "i think—i mean, i don't really believe in you all that much, but patton does, so. if you keep fighting him and don't, like, remove your head from your ass, you're definitely going to push him and logan away, you know that, right?"

she doesn't really respond, and virgil huffs out an exasperated breath.

"look," virgil says. "you know what would patch all this up?"

"what?"

"if you and your husband apologized," for once. "if you and him apologized to patton, he'd forgive you in a heartbeat, you know. because again, he's way too optimistic about you."

"well, i hardly—"

"holy shit, you started it," virgil says. "you always start it. you cannot seriously expect your son, who is bedridden with pneumonia, to put in his usual work of trying to smooth it over between you three, the way he always does. for once, can you please just fucking set aside your pride for five seconds and apologize?"

"what he did—"

"sucked, i know," virgil says impatiently. "it sucks that he ran away, he knows that, he regrets doing that to you the way he did, but jesus christ, it's been sixteen years. he's apologized, hasn't he?"

she barely inclines her head.

"okay, so," virgil says. "can you just see that this is kind of a special circumstance and say the words i'm sorry? just one time. and he'll forgive you basically instantly. even if you don't understand why, just say it, and then you can playact at being a big happy family again."

emily chews at her lip.

...

"you're quite certain you don't want me to stay the night here?" 

"i'll be fine, grandpa," logan says wearily as they turn down the street to home, even as something in him delights at being so, so close to home again. "you should go back to your house, in case they need anything. you're closer to the hospital than i am here."

"well," he begins, about to turn into the drive, but he stops the car as the lights illuminate a familiar figure.

"who the devil," he begins, moving to lock the doors, but logan's flinging the door open before he can, unbuckling and nearly skidding on the icy driveway as he speedwalks to the front stoop, where the familiar figure is standing up, shivering.

"roman," logan says, and roman steps forward and hugs him tight, so tight, and logan closes his eyes, buries his face into roman's shoulder where he still smells like hairspray and the stage makeup he hadn't bothered to wipe off his face and sweat, still wearing the massive button-down he wears to cover his costumes while backstage at a show under his big, puffy winter jacket, and logan's home, he's home, and—

"oh my god, i'm so sorry i didn't call back," roman says, and draws back. he'd barely made a cursory smear of a makeup wipe on his face, so his stage makeup remains on his face, smeared with sweat. he still has purple glitter on his eyelids and sharp cateye eyeliner, and smudged, faded lipstick. "i didn't know what to do, i didn't know where you were, i didn't know if you were coming home for the night or not, so i just—"

"logan?" his grandfather calls, and logan turns, still holding roman in his arms.

"it's okay," logan calls. "it's okay, it's just roman. i'll see you tomorrow?"

richard surveys this, frowns, grunts a little, waves in farewell, and gets back in his car. logan opens the front door to the house, nudging roman in ahead of him and flicking on the light, turning back to lock the door. roman barely waits until he's turned the key until he's tugging at logan's suit jacket, and logan turns to face him again, and god, there he is, that's his best friend. 

"is your dad okay?" roman asks, frantic.

"he'll be fine," logan says. "i—the doctors said it was pneumonia and he'll be at the hospital for a few days, but they said he'd be okay."

"god, logan," roman says, and reaches to hug him again. logan closes his eyes tight, and leans into it, hard. for once, he won't deny that he maybe needs hugs right now.

they draw back, and logan, a little in disbelief, picks at collar of roman's button-up.

"you came," logan says.

"well, yeah," roman says, like it's obvious. "you were upset, of course i came."

i love you, logan thinks.

"i mean, admittedly, it wasn't like, straight to the hospital, or anything," roman says. "i tried, but i wasn't sure which one, and—"

"i'm going back to visit in the morning," logan says, tentative. "if you'd—if you'd join me?"

"yeah, of course," roman says, and takes logan's hand. he tugs logan into the living room, where the detritus of one of his father's blanket nests is in an armchair. they sit on the couch, where a collection of empty mugs sits on the coffee table. there is so much of patton in this house. logan cannot look anywhere without thinking about his dad.

suddenly, he realizes that roman's been talking this whole time.

"—but oh my god, l, that must have been so scary."

logan wants to deny that it was scary. logan wants to lie. logan wants to say objectively, the risks of pneumonia are relatively low, here are the survival rates and here are the usual methods of treatment and here is what will happen, and here is proof that my dad will be okay, and here are all the reasons why it is illogical to be upset, because he will be okay, and i know he will be okay, because virgil promised he would be okay and the doctor said he would be okay and the family physician said he would be okay, so there is no reason why my brain is still stuck at a point where i should think that he wouldn't be okay, because that is not true, because he will be okay.

instead, logan's lip trembles, and he catches it between his teeth with a groan, pressing his elbows against his thighs and bending to meet his hands, sliding off his glasses to press the heels of his hands against his stinging, hot eyes.

there's a body against him, then, a cheek pressed to the back of his neck, arms wrapping around him again, and logan swallows hard.

"i've gotcha," roman whispers. "i've got you, logan. i'm right here." 

and logan buries his face in his best friend's lap, and for the second time that night, he starts to cry.

...

there's a weight on patton's hip.

that's the first thing he's aware of, swimming out of the dark gray sludge of sleep, waking up slowly and not particularly liking it very much. there is a weight against his hip, and when at last he cracks open his eyes, the first thing he does is look to see what it is.

it's a familiar head. the face is mostly obscured by the hair flopping into patton's line of vision, but the hoodie that's been spread out over patton like a blanket and the t-shirt and worn jeans the familiar person is wearing are big enough identifiers that patton doesn't really have to wait for any of his reasoning skills to come back online.

virgil's got a hand close to patton's hand, where it's resting on the mattress, and an arm slung out across patton's stomach, not even pillowing his head. it's as if he'd reached out to make sure that patton would stay put.

patton's heart swells with a nearly unimaginable amount of fondness. he carefully moves the hand that virgil had nearly been touching to virgil's head. his hair, feathery and floppy and soft, is familiar under his hand. the hard curve of his skull is, too. patton doesn't get to touch him very much, but they're familiar anyways. he swipes an admiring thumb slowly down, tracing the line of virgil's jaw.

virgil nuzzles against patton's belly in his sleep. in doing so, a bit of his hair slips, and it reveals a bit of virgil's closed eye, bangs parting like curtains. the ever-present bags look slightly darker than usual. that must be why virgil fell asleep on him. well, patton certainly isn't complaining. as a matter of fact, he smiles, and covers virgil's hand with his own, feeling something in his stomach flutter.

he can go back to sleep, now.

 when he wakes again, it's to the clicking of high heels, and a voice he's known all his life.

"—did you say he'd be here, again?"

another voice—familiar, beloved, feels like he's known him all his life.

"logan's text said 9:30, so they're probably just parking and getting up to the room now."

"hmph. or the traffic's acting up again."

huh. he must be dreaming. there is no actual world where his mother and virgil are being so civil.

"look, they said they'd be here soon. with roman, too."

"the dance boy? patton says logan has a crush on him."

"oh, yeah, logan definitely has a crush on him. but patton really likes him, he's practically another kid. he's my neighbor, plus he's logan's best friend, so. logan probably told him about it and roman wanted to come wish him well."

"he was very well-behaved at logan's birthday get-together," his mother muses.

"yeah, he can be a real little charmer," virgil says darkly.

"he's a prince, it's practically in the name that he's charming," patton mumbles, trying to complete the old joke.

"oh, right on time," his mother says, pleased, and patton cracks open his eyes.

his mother's standing, holding a to-go cup of coffee, and virgil's still sitting at patton's bedside, where he dimly remembers virgil being a few times he'd woken up before. his hand's under patton's, and patton squeezes before he can really help himself. he's never really held virgil's hand before—this isn't exactly holding his hand, just his hand over virgil's, but it's close enough that patton's kind of unreasonably excited

"what were you saying?" patton asks, shifting against the pillows, trying to sit up a bit straighter.

"logan, roman, and your dad are all coming," virgil tells him. "should be here any minute."

patton nods, and makes the mistake of looking down at himself, only to suck in a breath and look up at the ceiling.

"what?" virgil asks, alert.

"needles," patton says, strangled. "i can see it, virge. i can feel it."

ivs! are! the! worst! sure, he's a bit more used to needles now because of his shots of testosterone, but with those he can at least aim and then look away and jab himself, and it's over relatively quickly, but he can feel it now and it is Bad—

"oh," virgil says, scrambling, "um—"

"here," his mother says, and patton turns his head away from the arm that has tubing coming out of it, to see his mother holding out her silk handkerchief. 

"oh!" patton says, and takes it, carefully draping it over the injection site as much as he can without looking at it, and risks a glance. yes, he can still see the tubing, and feel the iv, but as long as he doesn't move his arm and the handkerchief stays there, he should be... okay.

patton offers a tentative smile to his mom—she's been here, patton knows that, his memories are really fuzzy but he knows she's been here, but patton also knows that they've been freezing each other out for the past week, so. "um, thanks, mom."

she nods, once, and virgil says, "you doing okay, pat?"

"i think so," patton says uncertainly. "i mean, i still feel pretty—bleh."

"the doctor said you probably would be feeling pretty bleh for the next couple days, sorry," virgil says sympathetically. "but you're going to be just fine, patton. you're going to be okay."

a wave of relief sweeps through patton. he remembers, distantly, almost like it's a dream, the suddenly more aggressive and more pervasive fear of dying, but—but if a doctor said he'd be okay, and if virgil says he's going to be okay, then patton's going to be okay. 

"okay," patton says, and nods, absorbing this. "okay. um, good."

"uh, so, i think i might go out to the waiting room, wait for logan and roman to get here, if that's... if that's okay."

no that is not okay why are you leaving me alone with her?! patton wants to ask, but virgil's giving him a Look, a it's okay look, so patton lets out a little breath, and trusts him. obviously. it's not even a choice, he just does.

"you can keep an eye on my hoodie for me," virgil adds, flicking one of the sleeves so it folds over patton's lap, and patton looks up at him, blinking.

"you sure?" he says, tentatively running his thumb over a worn little bit of hoodie that he's seen virgil run his fingers over, too. "you never take this off."

"i think i can manage to trust you with it," virgil says, amused. "besides, that way you know i'm gonna be coming back, right?"

patton weighs these options. he fiddles with virgil's hoodie again, runs his fingers over the white stitching, feeling the variance of textures under his fingers.

"okay," patton says. "yeah."

"cool," virgil says.

and then virgil and his mom share their own little Look. patton has literally no hope of unparsing it if he tried—they still aren't fond of each other, obviously, but they look... they look understanding, almost. almost. not quite. but like they've reached some kind of point of agreement, maybe. not necessarily that they entirely agree, but just one point of agreement.

well, that's more than they had, so. patton's all for it.

his mother takes virgil's abandoned seat, and scoots a little closer, crossing her legs primly.

"well," she says, and fiddles with his blanket, pointedly avoiding touching virgil's hoodie, pulling the blanket over him a little more snugly. "how are you feeling?"

okay, so this is... weird. but patton can go with it. at least it's not yelling.

"um," patton says. "not my best?"

her face tightens.

"what?" patton asks in a tiny voice.

"young man," she says. "you were brought into the hospital between having actually collapsed and being on the verge of another one, with a fever so high you could have risked serious brain damage if you continued to refuse to seek treatment, and a case of pneumonia so serious that you have to stay in the hospital for at least three days, and all you have to say is that you don't feel at your best?"

"well, you see," patton says, "i'm really not at my best."

his mother looks five seconds from lovingly smothering him with his own hospital pillow when the door opens, and—

okay, virgil seriously isn't mean enough to leave him to get yelled at while he was bedridden and couldn't escape, right? had he really annoyed virgil recently?

"hello, patton," his father says.

"um, hi, dad," patton says, trying not to fidget, in case it jostled his arm and he had to be reminded about needles again. "are, um. are logan and roman here?"

"virgil took them to get coffee," his dad says. 

(actually, virgil is leaning against the wall just outside the door, out of sight of anyone in the room, monitoring this conversation just in case anything goes wrong, and what he said to roman and logan was "here's ten bucks, scram," and roman had wrinkled his nose at him and said "why?" and virgil said "privacy reasons, there's going to be an emotional moment," and logan had declared "gross" incredibly loudly and grabbed roman by the hand and dragged him in the direction of the hospital cafeteria, roman looking a bit too excited about logan holding his hand to really protest, but sure, the sanders' could all think that virgil took the kids to get coffee.)

richard pulls up a chair to sit beside his mother, and patton—patton is very suddenly reminded of the two other times in his life where he had to stay in the hospital for a period of time, when he gave birth, and when he had top surgery.

they were both there then, too.

neither time, though, had they had a fight quite as bad as the one they'd had last week.

"you don't," patton begins haltingly, and twists virgil's hoodie in his free hand. "you don't have to stay, you know."

they look at each other.

"it was very nice of you to drive roman and logan here," patton says to his dad, quietly, "but i don't—you two don't have to stick around, really. i'm going to be fine, and i can patch things up when—"

"we wanted to apologize," his mother says stiffly, and patton's mouth snaps shut.

"you," patton says, and swallows hard. "you, um. you what?"

"we wanted to apologize," his dad says. patton kind of wants to clean out his ears, and ask them both to repeat themselves one more time, or maybe page a doctor, please, because he thinks he might be hallucinating, but—

"we were out of line," richard continues. "i was out of line. i shouldn't have come down on you as hard as i did—for reopening an argument we've had before."

"oh, dad, that's not—" patton starts.

"will you be quiet and let us finish?" his mother says, snappish, and that almost kind of soothes patton, because if his mother's snappish even if she says she's in the middle of an apology it means his parents probably haven't been bodysnatched, so that's good.

"we are sorry," his mother continues, dignified and refined, and not particularly heartfelt, but that's actually kind of okay, because this was already so weird that if his mom started being the emotional one patton would—well, he doesn't know, really, he just knows it would be very strange. "we are sorry that you were upset, and we are sorry that we upset you further."

"please consider forgiving us," his dad says formally, and patton quashes the urge to giggle. please consider forgiving us in the same way he'd say please consider opening an insurance policy with our company to a client. 

"yes," emily says. "we are sorry for yelling at you, and for aggravating you when you were clearly upset and needed support, and for—"

she hesitates. she adjusts her jacket sleeves.

"and for putting you down," she says, and makes a slight moue of distaste. "for... bullying you."

patton, who is very uncomfortable, cannot help but laugh awkwardly. "i—i mean, i wouldn't say—"

"what else would you call telling you your reasoning wasn't good enough and saying you were a disappointment?" richard asks wearily, and patton shuts his mouth, directing his glance to his lap. he's fisted virgil's hoodie into a bunch he keeps curled in his free hand, with a white-knuckled grip.

"i," patton says, and swallows hard, trying to stop his voice from trembling. he can't say anything at all, and it reminds him unpleasantly of the argument, where he was lost for words, and he couldn't say anything, and he tried so hard to say something and when he did it wasn't good enough, and he swallows again, trying to search for something to say—

"you did nothing to deserve that," his dad says, and patton looks up, then, and oh. oh, his dad's eyes are... suspiciously shiny. "you did nothing to earn that."

"dad," patton barely manages to say around how choked up he is. the only time he ever saw his dad shed a tear was at his grandfather's funeral—and even then, it had only been a few, before he'd wiped off his face and continued stolidly onward.  

"i was being unfair," he says, rigid and unyielding. "i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you, much less in such an extreme way. i lost my composure."

"yes," emily says. "so. we are sorry that we were upset, and we made it so that you were upset you, too."

it dawns on patton, then.

they're so bad at this. like, genuinely, they're terrible at apologizing. they've hit almost everything on the stereotypical "what not to do while apologizing list." they apologized that he got upset, not for the things they said that made him upset. they've been snappy and irritable, and sure, a little emotional, but he's pretty sure telling the person you're apologizing to to be quiet is also a thing not to do. they've been uncomfortable, not with their past actions, but with the words they're saying now. 

but honestly? it's the first time they've apologized to him. so no wonder they're bad at it. baby steps, he supposes, and this is a big one. it's the first one. plus, being bad at being humble and nice is kind of quintessential to the way the elder sanders' are. it's comforting, in a really weird way.

"why are you smiling like that?" emily says suspiciously.

patton smiles wider. "nothing," he says reassuringly. 

"well, you're certainly smiling for some reason," she says peevishly. "the least you could do is sit and listen politely without looking like the cat that's gotten the cream, patton, for goodness' sake—oh!"

the reason she's said oh! is because patton's leaned almost all the way off the bed to hug her around the shoulders with his free arm. he sets his chin on her shoulder.

"i love you, mom," he says sincerely.

"oh," she says, and her hand flutters uselessly somewhere along his shoulder blade. "oh, well, that's—how nice."

patton grins even wider, because it's just such a mom thing of her to do, to be so at a loss during an emotional moment. he draws back, and grins at his dad. "i won't hug you, but i hope you know i'm thinking about it."

"it's appreciated," his father says solemnly. 

patton settles back on his pillows, cheeks hurting. "i forgive you, by the way," he adds. "if it needs to be said."

"well, good," emily says, self-satisfied, as if she's succeeded in auctioning for a particularly rare piece of antique furniture. or, well. as if she's the cat that got the cream.

"how was it?" he asks, curious. "having logan spend the week over."

richard and emily exchange a glance. 

"eventful," emily decides, and richard nods in agreement, before he reaches to take one of the abandoned newspapers from the pile logan's compiled for him, and patton almost laughs.

it doesn't take very long for the kid in question to show up at the door, with a diner owner and his best friend in tow, virgil adjusting the chairs in patton's room, before taking a seat himself.

virgil reaches out and takes patton's hand, like it's habit, before he freezes. patton smiles at him, though, and squeezes back, flipping their hands a little so that he can stare at virgil's hand.

he guesses they must have held hands for the first time last night, when he was too feverish to really tune into it. but he takes the time now to marvel quietly at virgil's hands.

logan and roman start talking about roman's opening show of the nutcracker last night, so everyone else is paying attention to that, and patton's absorbing the information, really, but he's a bit preoccupied with virgil's long, bony fingers, his expansive palm, the way he keeps stealing looks at patton out of the corners of his eyes, like he's checking that patton's alright. 

there's dozens of tiny little shiny white burns dotting his fingers, from points where the heat must have leaked through a mitt or he'd forgotten a mitt altogether, or something. there's a longer one, along his wrist. it kind of surprises patton, because he knows how cautious virgil is with heat in the kitchen. he's got calluses and his hand’s a bit sweaty, but warm, and patton squeezes his hand again—an it's okay, an i'm okay, an everything's going to be okay, an i'm really happy you're here right now. a thank you. an i love you.

and virgil squeezes back.

[punkscowardschampions]

Janis & Grace

Janis: [Let us say that some boys on the bus were going hard with being dicks because duh, shit always goes down on the bus] Janis: 3 of those lads have sent me dick pics Janis: say the word, like Grace: only 3? 💔 Janis: What can I say? Janis: Not got the pull I used to, obvs Grace: yeah same Janis: Yeah Janis: well, there's comfort in knowing you're always one #scandal away from being old news at this school, yeah Grace: mhmm I'm like so comforted rn Janis: Not my forte Janis: I'll work on getting the remaining 2 dicks Janis: revenge porn, I could do Grace: 🤞💜🙏 Janis: I hope the rest of the insults you've heard today have been more creative than that poor showing at least Grace: Duh of course they haven't 🙄 Janis: Gutting Janis: should've paid more attention in English, lads Grace: [sends her some of the quality content] Grace: that'll be easier when I'm not there to be like TOTALLY distracting obvs Janis: 😑 Janis: How dry Janis: 💀 or 👻 Grace: I mean like catch them at 20 still trying to pass Grace: much as I wanna kms Janis: True that Janis: only here past junior cert to get more fingering experience Grace: ugh Janis: I know Janis: romance is dead Janis: is there anything I can actually do though? Grace: get that as a matching tattoo with barista boy? no 👌👌 Grace: idk cos idk what I can even do soooo Grace: my life is just over Janis: I'll float the idea Janis: might be a bit mainstream Janis: yeah but is that such a bad thing Janis: was pretty tragic, right? Grace: can you not Janis: I'm not taking the piss Janis: I'm being real Grace: & I'm not in the mood for a life revamp atm Grace: or your advice Janis: I'm not trying to be a guru either Grace: well you don't know what you're talking about so that's a relief Janis: Alright Janis: not said I do either Janis: sorry I don't, if I knew how to avoid scandals, I could sell that shit for a high price Grace: just stop Grace: I could care less that I'm #cancelled Grace: it's not even Janis: Go on then Janis: I know you aren't upset over that idiot Grace: Duh Grace: he's the WORST but I knew that already Janis: and give a shit about everyone talking shit, apparently Janis: so, what is it? Grace: it's real if I say it Janis: Is that why you're not saying anything Janis: I know it doesn't stop the talk but some people might listen Janis: what don't you want to make real? Grace: I don't want people to listen, I literally don't want anyone to know Grace: I don't even wanna know, I wish I didn't Janis: Grace Janis: what are you talking about? Grace: I'm literally the worst person, I didn't wanna have his baby & now god has like cursed me forever Janis: Babe, God is NOT a subscriber Janis: tell me Grace: if you make me 😂 I will 😭 Janis: That would make things feel more normal Janis: but I'll calm my comedy genius Janis: you haven't grown another head and I don't think our animal have been slaughtered Grace: thanks babes Grace: but I'd rather have another head than this Janis: More to contour, I get it Janis: Kinda Janis: so it must be bad Grace: Yeah Grace: like I said, my life is over Grace: it's not even started & it's done Janis: Did you want the baby Janis: I know you said not HIS but like Janis: it'd be understandable to be in two minds, even after making a decision about it Grace: not now but I didn't know that'd mean not ever Janis: What? Grace: it's not just that I wasn't pregnant this time Grace: I can't be Janis: Ever? Janis: The Doctor told you? Grace: Ever Grace: the doctor said I'm going through the fucking menopause, like is nan even?! Janis: the menopause Janis: is that even possible Janis: fuck Grace: I don't think the doctor is allowed to drop fake news on me Grace: like maybe there's another storytime coming Janis: When did you find this out? Grace: I went to the doctors right after I delivered my fake news to him Janis: Jesus, Grace Janis: How are you in School Janis: why? Grace: I told you, I don't want this to be happening Grace: I'm freaking out, the symptoms are crazy Janis: Is it just pure bad luck Janis: it can't be like..reversed Grace: there's like no way to undo it Janis: Shit Janis: I'm sorry Janis: that is huge Grace: yeah me too Grace: the pity party this fam would throw would be huge Grace: along with the guestlist of all their accidental babies Janis: and we have enough birthdays with all those accidental kids so Janis: Obviously, no need to explain why you're keeping it to yourself Grace: I can't do this Grace: be this Janis: I don't think you have a choice Janis: well, you don't Grace: is it my fault though? all the binging I used to do Grace: Ro got to have a kid Janis: Of course it ain't your fault Janis: this shit is unfair and random Grace: Yeah Janis: and it'll always be shit and unfair Janis: but you can still live your life, just different to how you've imagined Grace: I don't wanna live this life Janis: There's not an alternative Janis: but I can guarantee it's not gonna be as bad as you feel right now Grace: I was just starting to get my shit together, for god's sake Janis: I know Janis: but you still have the rest together Grace: HE'S the last boy that's ever gonna come near me, that alone makes me wanna die Janis: that's bollocks Janis: you've not got the plague Janis: socially, right now Janis: but who gives a fuck, yeah, the lads 'round here are not the be all in any way Grace: I literally live here Grace: what else am I gonna do go online and find boys who are into 👵? Janis: Boys that don't go to our school, would be a start Janis: ones that aren't likely to be fans of that prick, shouldn't be hard Janis: you're not going for 12 year olds, like Grace: I said don't make me 😂 Janis: It can't hurt Janis: except literally, maybe Grace: I've gotta get used to all the fucking aches and pains anyway ugh Janis: Any excuse for a spa day, you Grace: I'll lose your invite, don't even worry Janis: 💔😏 Janis: you should though Janis: do something that doesn't make you feel like 👵 Grace: casual infertility party Janis: not exactly what I was thinking but Janis: interesting take on the baby shower epidemic Janis: I'd come Grace: oh god don't, Rio's gonna have another one soon Janis: It'll be nice to not have to snatch it back from an OTT gay this time Janis: more chill Grace: unless I snatch it cos I go fully mental Janis: I'd recommend a less baby crazy target Grace: maybe I'll start pushing all the 🐈s around in a pram like oh hey this is my new vibe Janis: if you want your face clawed off Janis: they're pretty unsympathetic little bastards Grace: I literally didn't wanna be in this fam before what am I meant to do now?! ugh Janis: As much as it would be a laugh to ask Ri to surrogate again Janis: let's think of something a little less drastic for the time being Grace: like? Janis: like Janis: you can't disown us all, it'd take to long Janis: but you could not be around for a while Grace: 👌👌 except I have nowhere to go Grace: not trying to have a Q&A with my friends about this Janis: You're so lucky I'm the twin with brains Grace: rude Janis: what about going to see Ava for a hot sec Janis: she's not the barrage-you-with-questions type Grace: it's lowkey very unlikely her mum & dad would want me there though Janis: yeah but it's as unlikely they'll be about enough to notice you that hard Janis: everyone knows you're going through it right now, even if they don't actually know what IT really is Grace: okay yeah Grace: mum does, she'd let me go Janis: exactly, who actually gives a shit if you miss a week or so of school Janis: Ava could still go if she so desperately needs, you just need to chill Janis: away from here Grace: not me, school was the worst even before this Janis: One thing we can agree on Grace: don't like tell anyone, okay? Janis: No shit Janis: 'course I won't Grace: Even your boyfriend who you're so 💖😍😘 for & have no secrets from Janis: Even though you're being purposefully antagonizing rn Janis: I won't tell no one Grace: thanks Janis: It ain't even an ask Janis: so don't mention it Grace: 👌💜 Janis: I'll hook it up with her, no stress Grace: I'll handle mum Janis: and your packing Grace: at least I don't have to serve a look as hard when there's only 1 person there I'm avoiding as opposed to like ALL of Dublin Janis: safe to say you can give the #ootds a break too Janis: strictly loungewear, like Grace: mhmmm Janis: bit rude to avoid Ava though Janis: do I need to tell her you're getting in the guestroom and not coming out, like? Grace: oh please, I would never Janis: Who are you avoiding then? Grace: just a boy Janis: unlike you Grace: excuse you Janis: You'd have your exes all back 'round like a family reunion Janis: who's this boy, did you shit in his bed, what's the story Grace: ���😱😱 Grace: I WOULD NOT Janis: 👌👌 you love a repeat Grace: I'm a hoe reformed 😇🙏 Janis: so that's why you're avoiding Janis: get a wimple, join a convent Grace: literally can't 💍 anyone but god now anyway so Grace: obvs that's what he wanted when he cursed me Janis: #whenbaeisposessive 😍 Janis: and don't talk shit, you don't have to promise you'll have your firstborn within the year when you get married, like Janis: not necessary Grace: whatever we're so off topic rn Janis: the topic of you shitting in some London lad's bed, 'cos you did not deny it Janis: let's get back on that Grace: OMG no! Grace: I'm 👵 not 🤢💀🤒😓💀 Grace: he's just a hookup, no drama Janis: just gonna run for cover if you 👀 him Janis: standard Janis: probably not lurking about her gaff unless you've really one-upped everyone and fucked your uncle 🤢 Grace: EW! Grace: I'm not even gonna 👀 him cos he's her bfs brother but like I didn't know that so Janis: that's funny Janis: soz Janis: 😂 when the incestuousness of it all happens without you even trying Grace: 🙄🙄 Janis: okay 🤐 Janis: but deffo avoid him Grace: duh Grace: the state of me & my life rn Janis: more like the state of that whole situation Janis: getting involved in that is not anyone's idea of relaxing Grace: obvs but that's not anything to do with him Grace: just like none of this #scandal involves you Janis: Think people know better than to imply it was a threesome, yeah Grace: Gross! & you know what I mean, babes Janis: yeah, it's beyond #obvs you don't wanna avoid this boy mhmm Grace: like that matters, he's not gonna hit me up & same Janis: well okay Janis: arranging that goes beyond sisterly duties into pimp territory so Janis: focus on what you're actually gonna do whilst you're there then Grace: 😭😭💀💀😭 then yeah? Grace: 👌💜 Janis: you could do that here Janis: at least go somewhere instagrammable to die Grace: well duh Grace: final livestream for the haters Janis: 🙄😏 Janis: wonder if anyone's killed themselves on stream yet Janis: must've Grace: obvs Grace: but I literally couldn't even if it was original content cos they'd all think it was about him & I'm sooo 💔💔💔 Janis: No one wants that as their legacy Grace: exactly Janis: even if the race to #1 most subscribed when he gets #cancelled would be just riveting Grace: he won't even though his fans are just Janis: sweaty virgins Janis: yeah, figures Grace: 😂 Grace: I'd tell him to hit them with a Q&A but like he's got no answers Grace: literally should've known I wasn't pregnant Janis: thank fuck you ain't Janis: this time anyway Janis: obvs the whole thing is a little more complex but Christ Janis: having to parent with that Janis: and knowing your child was the product of a really shit shag Janis: 💔 Grace: IKR Grace: at least he doesn't know he could blame the menopause for how shit it was Janis: I highly doubt he knows what the menopause is Janis: nevermind the concept of it coming early Janis: though that shouldn't be that unfamiliar Grace: who knew it could come this early though Grace: not his defence squad but like wtf Janis: I hadn't heard of it before, really Janis: like I knew people like Ro and Mia and co can stop getting their period and it might not come back, even if you sort yourself Janis: it's shit luck Grace: yeah Janis: Did you not get your period Janis: on whatever contraception you're on Grace: loads of people don't on the implant so I wasn't freaking out Janis: yeah Janis: s'what I thought Janis: you don't think, I mean that's not why, is it Grace: I'd hope someone would have floated that as a side effect before I got it put in but it's not like I can ask my former squad if they're also going through it Grace: they might've moved on by now anyways it only lasts 3 years Grace: hence my 👶 panic Janis: I don't think even doctors and scientists know what it does to our bodies Janis: we're still guineapigs for all this shit Janis: I know loads of people get fucked up from all the hormones they add to your body, and the ones they take away Janis: again, just bad luck it happened to be permanent, I guess Janis: fun times Grace: at least I won't have to do any of that shit any more Janis: that's true Janis: it's not like there aren't any perks Janis: or that the losses can't be filled with other potentials in the future, when you actually wanna think about all that shit Grace: unless I go bald then I will kms obvs Janis: If you go bald, you can just go for it and superglue a wig on Grace: find me one that doesn't make me look like a weird cartoon character & sure Janis: no 💗 or 💙 Janis: got it Grace: ty 💜 Janis: failing that, you could make Ri transplant you some of hers Janis: like so you won't give me a baby, okay Grace: 😂😂 coming at her with ✂ Grace: I love that you didn't volunteer yourself bitch Grace: 💇 or 👶 tbh Janis: Full horror movie moment that Janis: selfish to a fault me Janis: and final girl, so you can pry 'em off my cold dead head or outta my cold dead womb Grace: my 📽🎞😱 moment is that this is gonna change my skin type to dry so it'll take me at least a full week to find replacements for all my makeup faves Janis: yeah, but think about how hard your spots should disappear Janis: get yourself a decent moisturizer and you won't even need to bother barely Grace: !!! Grace: I didn't even think of that OMG Janis: mhmm 👵 don't get acne Grace: 🙏🙏 Janis: and you can try a new facial over there, yeah Grace: as long as Ava isn't like no thanks bitch Janis: won't give her an option tbh Grace: 📽🎞😱 Janis: 😏 you know I'm scary bitch Grace: oh please Janis: 👊 Grace: 😘

[punkscowardschampions]

Bea & Fraze

Bea: So, tell me Bea: how is it that all your friends are in detention right now but you aren't? Fraze: I shouldn't need to tell you that I never get caught Bea: 😏 Well then, you should be concerned that I did Fraze: You reckon? Bea: Yes, your lack of care would be so offensive if it didn't mean you know me better Bea: Obviously I'm only here because O'Toole hates me Bea: and he only hates me because all the other teachers love me Fraze: He probably hates you 'cause you say and know shit like what you just said Bea: Well I definitely don't care so either way Bea: he's the type that reckons he was an underdog so he's gotta hate the kids who are obviously too much of anything, even when that thing is smart Fraze: That'll be why he's in my corner and not yours Bea: Lucky you 🙄 Bea: Still, you aren't so well loved that you couldn't be here Bea: so bored Fraze: Yeah, lucky me Bea: What's wrong? Fraze: I'm sorting it Bea: Obviously but still Fraze: so obviously forget it Bea: Yeah, obviously not Bea: come on Fraze: You ain't that bored Bea: Try me Fraze: Joe reckons he knows about me and you Fraze: enough to have a dig about it Bea: Enough that he can grass? Fraze: That ain't happening Fraze: like I said, I'll sort him out Fraze: and it'll be worse for him if he grasses Bea: How, exactly Bea: this concerns me too, so if you plan on just threatening to kick the shit out of him, time to rethink Fraze: I'll fucking kill him Bea: I don't think he would Bea: but try and use it for his gain, less sure Bea: maybe Fraze: we don't grass, it's rule 1 Fraze: he can try and hold this shit over my head but he knows what'll happen if he does Bea: For fuck's sake Fraze: this is why I said forget it Fraze: there's fuck all you need to do Bea: Yeah, right now maybe Bea: I'll enjoy those last five seconds of peace Fraze: Come on Fraze: If he's gonna be try and be that cunt I'll just tell 'em before he can Fraze: he ain't got no power, I do Bea: You better be joking Bea: that's it, that's your plan Fraze: I told you, it ain't gonna get that far Fraze: but if it does, then yeah Bea: No Bea: that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard Fraze: Well, we've established I ain't as smart as you, babe Bea: Shut up Bea: they can't find out Fraze: It ain't like they don't know, they were there before Bea: It's different Bea: you know it is Fraze: Exactly, we ain't kids now Fraze: they can't stop us Bea: That's not the point Fraze: Yeah it is Bea: One of Bea: but there's so much at stake Fraze: I know what you're thinking but they wouldn't do that Bea: Do you Fraze: Don't I? Fraze: stupid not retarded, like Bea: It's different for me, that's what I'm getting at Fraze: But what I'm getting at is it's not Fraze: They ain't gonna send you away anymore than they would me Bea: They'd wish they could Bea: and that's the point Fraze: shut up, no Fraze: neither of 'em are like that & you know it Bea: You don't owe them shit, I do Bea: admit it or not, that's how it is Fraze: Bullshit Fraze: they ain't holding out for an IOU that's not what any of this is about Bea: I ain't saying they're holding it against me but throwing it back in their face will change shit Bea: end of Bea: you think you're actually ready for that Fraze: that's not what we're doing either Fraze: Fuck that Bea: That's how they'll see it Bea: how else can they Fraze: I'll make 'em see it how it is, why can't I? Bea: No one is going to see it how we do Fraze: They don't have to Fraze: I'll do enough to make it alright though Fraze: end of Bea: If it was that easy, you wouldn't be freaking out right now Fraze: I ain't Bea: You should be Fraze: Nah Fraze: You should calm down Bea: Don't you dare Fraze: Dare what, say shit like it is? Fraze: Joe's all mouth & no balls & on the off chance he decides to grow a pair I can handle it Bea: You know what Bea: and Joe isn't the only way this could come out Fraze: he's the one trying to put my back up to the wall right now Fraze: when we want it to come out, we'll do it our way Bea: Should I talk to him Fraze: Do you wanna? Bea: I don't want to do any of this but it might be better Fraze: Then don't Fraze: I can fix this Bea: What did he say exactly Fraze: That ain't what matters Bea: How is it not Fraze: He won't say fuck all else, that's the shit to focus on Bea: I knew this would happen Bea: there's no fucking room for privacy ever in this house Fraze: it's his cokehead like sleep pattern that's done it Bea: Jesus Fraze: How long have you got left? Bea: I don't know, clockwatching hasn't been a priority since you dropped the bombshell, like Bea: about 20 minutes Fraze: Come on, it ain't that drastic Fraze: Couple of drinks in us & we'll be laughing it off, like Bea: It is though Bea: if we can't even guarantee everyone's asleep how are we ever gonna have any time together Fraze: Don't Fraze: he knows now & the rest could probably sleep through the 2nd coming especially Ma & Da Bea: Yeah and I know why you won't tell me what he said Bea: I'm not an idiot either Fraze: Babe Bea: and he ain't the only one who's gonna think it's fucked up or wrong Fraze: Fuck him, he don't know what he's on about Fraze: the stupidest of the lot, yeah? Fraze: & who gives a shit what anyone else reckons anyway, not me & deffo not you Bea: It's just Bea: I didn't ask to need fostering Bea: I liked you first Fraze: I know Fraze: I saw you first, if anyone was gonna help you, it was meant to be me Bea: Sadly we couldn't actually run away, make it on our own aged, whatever the fuck Fraze: we can now Bea: Yeah? Bea: That's plan b Fraze: Yeah Fraze: She ain't never meant 'em to be a survival guide but I still know what to do after hearing all my Ma's stories loads of times Bea: There we go then Bea: we're sorted Fraze: I told you Bea: You're cute Fraze: Just walk out Bea: We're running away right now? Fraze: From detention at least Bea: Tempting Bea: But I've basically served my time now Fraze: I'll keep waiting at the gates like a twat loner then Bea: You're here Fraze: 'Course Bea: Then I'll double down and actually mean my previous statement now, you really are cute Fraze: you too, babe, that's what I'm doing here, like Bea: Nerd Bea: 😏 Fraze: If that's your type I'm fucked Fraze: Got loads of stamina but I don't reckon I can keep that shit going Bea: There it is Bea: sounding too humble a brag for a second there Fraze: Well, I can't let that bullshit stand Bea: I'm not sure if we can call it a type when it's just you Fraze: I'll keep my 👓 on if you insist Bea: 😂 Bea: As if you've got 'em on you Fraze: Nah but I'd look for 'em for you Bea: I don't wanna stop Bea: I can't Fraze: No cunt is keeping me away from you, they can't Bea: No Bea: we can sort this Bea: somehow Fraze: I mean it, I'll fucking kill him if I have to Bea: Romance ain't dead but neither is Joe Bea: I won't visit you in prison Fraze: I won't go Fraze: I don't get caught, remember Bea: Cocky Bea: I'll write you a hitlist if you're so confident, babe Fraze: Alright Bea: So, you'll wait outside for me, murder for me Bea: what else? Fraze: What else do you want? Bea: Everything Fraze: Try me then Bea: You wish I would Fraze: Are you saying you won't? Bea: I'm saying I ain't free yet Bea: I've already said I can't not be with you Fraze: & I already said get free Fraze: I'm waiting for you, what the fuck are you waiting for? Bea: I don't know Bea: seemed like a reasonable idea not to get into any trouble if we're about to get in the deepest of shit Bea: start off on a even standing, if not a slight advantage Fraze: You know you won't regret giving me however many minutes you're meant to stay in there Bea: Fraze Fraze: Come on Bea: Make it worth my while Fraze: Obviously Bea: Hang on then Fraze: I have been for fuck knows how long now so 'course Bea: Whine some more Bea: it's such a turn-on Fraze: Shut up Bea: Better Fraze: Lucky that you being a bitch is a turn on Bea: Lucky I'm not easily offended, prick Fraze: Lucky I'm in no mood to offend you, babe Bea: Where are we going? Fraze: If it ain't home, I'll take it Bea: Obviously that's off-limits Fraze: Those fuckers over the road are away though, we could hop their fence easy Bea: Assuming and praying they put their rabid ratty dog in a kennel Fraze: I ain't heard it so that or they mercy killed it before they went Bea: Save you a job Bea: only so much murder you can handle Fraze: Don't worry, I'll start with O'Toole Fraze: priorities, like Bea: Awh but he loves you Fraze: Yeah, but I love you Bea: Babe Fraze: Can you think of some bullshit reason we can stay out that my Ma will reckon is legit? Bea: I will Bea: I can't think of anything right now but that's your fault Fraze: I ain't sorry Bea: Me either Bea: remember that, yeah Fraze: I will Bea: Good Fraze: Don't forget either Bea: How could I Bea: You aren't going anywhere without me Fraze: 'Course not Bea: Promise and I'll come out Fraze: It's always been me & you, babe, I promise it's always gonna be Bea: [Does] Fraze: [the 😍 would be so intense] Bea: [when you go in for an intense af hug despite people being around 'cos '#shook] Fraze: [this is why you're gonna get caught lads but I ain't mad about it] Bea: [your fam walks by like 👀 lol Fraze: [bahahhahaha imagine before that can be a thing it's a good job he's pretending he's so unfazed by this near miss so he can drag her away sharpish to somewhere more private] Bea: [thanks for your garden neighbours] Fraze: [I hope the weather is alright] Bea: [break into their shed lads] Fraze: [a mood, if they've got anything good, steal it] Bea: [#theydeseveit and Ali and Ro are still friends with her so they won't suspect y'all lol] Fraze: [exactly my thoughts] Bea: [the type that are your #bffs 'til you ain't and then they hold a petty grudge over you all forever] Fraze: [literally, it's so real] Bea: [anyway, enjoy kids, hope no one saw you going over the fence] Fraze: [we know they can be sneaky sometimes even if there probably also is an old curtain twitcher on their street cos always a thing ha] Bea: [don't be a snitch old lady] Fraze: [at least if she was they could blag it like she's chatting shit for attention #kidstoday and mcvickers would be like valid] Bea: [and regardless, they wouldn't immediately assume they were having an affair in the shed, more likely just being little shits for no reason so] Fraze: [precisely, he'd always be doing shit like that with her or his mates] Bea: [heheheh think again though lads] Fraze: [Tess will be fuming she didn't figure this out] Bea: [remember on the act when her daughter called her out, I was like a #mood] Fraze: [1000% true facts] Bea: [should be late for tea though 'cos you're already an hour after school finishes for detention so] Fraze: [definitely, at least he can lie that he's gonna be at his mates cos they'd back him up esp if he said he'd with a girl so as long as she can think of something they can stay out after] Bea: [just say you had two clubs in a row or something blag it bitch] Fraze: [we know she's an amazing liar its fine get it done] Fraze: [also there should 100% be booze in that shed they can steal] Bea: [partay, probably a pouch of baccy too, but steal some other shit so it's not that obvious lmao] Fraze: [we know the kind of chav parents we're talking about here so its legit] Bea: [truly]

[punkscowardschampions]

Rio & Buster

Rio: Hey Rio: Sorry for dashing like I saw a bill earlier Rio: Stupid drama called Buster: Whatever Buster: Can't be hanging with you all day anyway Buster: Got my own shit to do Rio: 'Course Rio: Just in case you thought anything real mad was going down, like Rio: I'm good Buster: Looked like you were determined to handle it, babe Rio: Needs must, you know Rio: won't bore you with a long story Buster: Yeah Buster: Long story or boring story? Rio: Ha, both Rio: Out here trying to change the narrative but Buster: If he's still being a cunt you can tell me Buster: I'll sort it easy Rio: Oh no Rio: That's already the issue lowkey Rio: one of my lovelier exes been giving him grief Rio: how that's my problem now is a little beyond me but that's the joys init Buster: Well I'll sort him then Buster: Who is it? Rio: Don't think you ever had the pleasure Rio: Timelines didn't cross, I guess Rio: I can handle it, all good Buster: I can have it now, no greater pleasure than knocking him out, like Buster: So can I Rio: Yeah, know you love a scrap, McKenna Rio: Not a big deal, he's just a twat, like all my exes, yeah? Buster: You said it Rio: 😂 Rio: Exes for a reason, babe Rio: doing something wrong if you've got loads of good ones Buster: Doing something wrong if you've got any, I reckon Buster: You girls always gotta label shit Rio: Nah Rio: just a timescale thing, init Rio: don't blame us if you can't sustain shit Buster: I blame them that they don't make me wanna Buster: Ain't my fault if they're only worth the night Buster: I'm always bringing my best Rio: Oh, babe Rio: Now I'm feeling bad for you Rio: how'd you manage that Buster: Shut up Rio: What Rio: I'm serious Buster: Distract yourself from your own drama however you want but leave me out Buster: I'm not looking for a pity party Rio: Not throwing one Buster: Don't say shit like that to me then Buster: I'm all good Rio: Alright, alright Rio: I'm just questioning what they're bringing if you're really that uninterested, that's all Buster: Trying to scope out the competition, is it Buster: Makes sense Rio: Please 🙄 Buster: I would've, but you left Buster: Gotta please yourself now, babe Rio: You're lucky I left when I did Rio: only so many casualties a girl can cause in a day Rio: well, it's sorted now so Buster: Like I'm scared of any of your exes Buster: Don't be stupid Rio: Not what I meant actually, so calm down the 💪 Rio: don't know how much more your 💔 could stand, babe Buster: You reckon you can hurt me? Buster: Don't make me laugh Rio: Easy Buster: Try me Rio: Some other time Rio: so busy rn, yeah boy? Buster: About as busy as you are scared, yeah Rio: Why lie about having your own shit then, babe? Rio: Was I meant to be gutted, awh Buster: I ain't Buster: I'm well busy and you're well scared Rio: Ha Rio: No Buster: Which part is hard to believe? Buster: 'Cause trust me Rio: I'm sure, McKenna Rio: so, what boring delights await you tonight then? Buster: She's here now if you wanna say hi Rio: You're alright Rio: had a day of letting my own down gently, never mind dealing with yours for you Buster: I wasn't asking Buster: I can handle my own Buster: She's enjoying that you've got jokes, is all Buster: Agrees that you're shit scared like Rio: Now I know she ain't real, like 😂 Buster: [sends selfie with girl] Buster: there's some fakeness on her for sure, but I ain't mad Rio: Eurgh, put it away Rio: Honestly Buster: What are you doing tonight then? Buster: Wow me Rio: Night's still young over here Rio: even if you in bed Rio: see where it takes me Buster: Please, I'm not a fucking amateur Buster: Got a whole house to play with Rio: Then hadn't you better get back to it? Buster: Probably Rio: Charming as ever Buster: No complaints yet Buster: Come over and join us if you're still close by Buster: See for yourself Rio: Hmm, think we'd both be passing if she knew we were cousins, like Rio: Save you explaining that one Buster: Not gonna tell her, am I Buster: She's not here to talk Rio: Just you, like Buster: 😂 Buster: You started it, babe Buster: I'm just being a hero how you like, making sure you're okay Rio: You on something good if you cocky enough to reckon you know how I like it, babe Rio: I'm all good, that's been said Buster: You're full of shit if you reckon I don't Rio: It's all just playin' Buster: Don't have to be Rio: True Rio: Shame you got other plans then, ain't it Buster: Make me a better offer Rio: Me, bitch Rio: I am the better offer and you know it Buster: Tell me where I can find you and we'll see Rio: Finish what you started Rio: Damn, so spoilt rich boy Buster: Finish what you started Rio: Touche Rio: though, don't think we can put it all on me Buster: I think you'll want it all when it comes down to it though, babe Rio: Just think? Rio: Unusual for you Buster: Trying not to scare you off again like Buster: Lot to handle, you know Rio: Ugh, how many times do I have to tell you that wasn't about you Buster: When you believe it, maybe I will Buster: Or you can just tell me what it was about and I'll shut up Rio: Tempting Rio: you are fucking infuriating Rio: I told you, ex drama Rio: didn't know you wanted the juicy details Buster: What the fuck's so special about him? Buster: You don't get rattled that way Rio: He ain't Rio: it's Rio: he's just a bit mental Buster: Has he hurt you? Buster: Seriously Rio: What? Nah Rio: He ain't here, back in the 24 ain't he Buster: Tell me what his fucking deal is, Rio. I'm not playing now Rio: Everything always sounds more dramatic when you try and explain Rio: It's sorted Buster: Not by me Buster: Just tell me Rio: Wouldn't know where to begin, babe Rio: was ages ago, he just gets mouthy sometimes when he's on one Rio: awkward when he comes at my next ex instead of me, like, that's all Buster: Not anymore he won't be. I'll shut him up for you Rio: Don't Rio: Seriously, it'll make everything worse Buster: Do you still love him or what? Rio: Fuck no Rio: just trust me, you don't want the aggro Buster: Like I said, give a shit Buster: Just tell me what you mean, worse than what, babe Rio: I don't know he just Rio: he's always there, whatever he's saying Rio: though we broke up nearly a year ago Buster: So he's a fucking stalker, yeah? Rio: Well, I don't know if we'd go that hard Buster: Rio Buster: Come on Rio: What? I don't wanna be dramatic about it Buster: Why the fuck not? Buster: He is Buster: And if I'm gonna kill the cunt I wanna know what for Rio: You aren't, let's get that straight Rio: it's not like he's a creepy stranger in the bushes, or whatever Rio: I did go out with him Rio: he just Rio: ain't moving on, idk Buster: A year ago Buster: And it ain't me you're scared of, is it? Rio: No Buster: So I'm just gonna scare him too, yeah Buster: And you're not gonna stop me Rio: No, Buster Rio: Please Buster: I can make this better for you, okay Buster: Just let me Rio: Or worse, like Rio: and for yourself Rio: it ain't like I don't appreciate the offer, or that I don't wish you could but Buster: You can trust me Buster: I ain't that stupid Buster: I'm not just gonna walk up to him on a busy street, like Rio: It ain't like you can kill him Rio: he'll just go back to it, trust me Buster: Not if I break both his hands Buster: Can't text you then, can he Rio: Be serious Buster: I am Rio: Alright, start thinking clearer then Rio: this is why I didn't want to tell you, there's nothing you can do Buster: There's always something Buster: What's his price for leaving you alone? We can find out Rio: That's silly Rio: how are you enforcing that Rio: can't force a guarantee from a scumbag, like Buster: Fuck's sake Rio: I know Rio: Forget about it though Buster: No Buster: But I'll have better ideas Rio: Alright, by the time we've vetoed all those, he'll probably be bored Buster: Fuck off Rio: Done Buster: Too easy, babe Buster: Give me a challenge Rio: That wasn't enough of one, like Buster: Nah Rio: Damn Rio: like punishment that much I know some people you could pay Buster: 😂 Buster: Bet you do Rio: Duh Rio: your neck of the woods is prime location for punters Rio: pass on your deets Rio: even be favourable, like, welcome Buster: That why you're still here, yeah? Rio: To get you hooked up with someone you wanna 'round 2 Rio: or to punish posh boys Rio: both works for me, like Buster: You could've already got option 1 done if you hadn't done a vanishing act instead Buster: Think on next time Rio: Buster Buster: Yeah? Rio: How drunk are you right now? Buster: I ain't even, babe Buster: Good to go, honest Rio: Hmm okay then Buster: Do you wanna get a drink? We can Rio: You bringing your friend or planning to let her have free run of your gaff? Buster: If you want me to tell her to go then she's gone Rio: Nah, you don't need to Rio: just let me know when you're out, yeah? Buster: 'Course