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aliennopossumm · 3 years ago

Text

Like Real People Do

Happy 11 months, @andromedaspace ! I love you more than words can describe

Pairing: currently platonic Analogical, future romantic Analogical

Warnings: some cursing, cult joke, one line mentions bullying, “nerd” used affectionately, some of Vee’s teasing makes Logan upset but xe comforts them, brief blood mention, anxiety

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Berry

Character notes: autistic nonbinary Logan [they/them], autistic trans Virgil [xe/xem]

Fic summary: As they usually do, Logan adventure’s into the forest. But when they explore somewhere they haven’t been before, they meet somebody new

1,795 words 10,235 characters

Logan, despite how well they behaved academically, was never one for following orders. Whether it was pirating a video game, or staying up until 2am on a school night, they didn't mind bending a few rules. More often than not, as well, they weren't caught. Their rule breaking wasn't confined to their own apartment either, occasionally exploring the forest by their highschool, staying out ten minutes to several hours too late. No matter what weather or time, they loved to walk through the trees that towered over their, now seemingly small, self. Nature was so fascinating to them. Books about plants and animals were scattered in their room, as well as writing in a journal about their favourite parts of the world.

They brought along the book on this particular day, tucked away safely in their messenger bag, along with pens, coloured pencils and other essentials. Wind barreled through the trees and their hair, making Logan subconsciously pull their hoodie closer to their skin. It was surprisingly cold for an average windy day, possibly too cold. Logan mentally pinned it down on being close to water, taking a seat next to a large, moss-covered rock. Whilst humming along to the sound of the birds, they started to remove their journal and stationary from their bag to comment on the plants around them. They opened the book to about three-quarters through, jotting the date down on a clean page. It was starting to become difficult to find new information, laying the book open on the dirt in front of them. A small, but happy, sigh escaped their mouth, turning to the rock behind them and starting to inspect the moss, their pen balanced in their mouth.

Hardly any sound surrounded them now, only quiet chirps and now softer wind being heard. Logan looked back behind them, where-

"Oh..?" Logan breathed, now slightly concerned at the lack of their book. It wasn't as if the wind blew it away, the pencils were much lighter than the journal, and yet they were in the exact same place. Attempting to not panic, they looked to the lake first, then to the tree's, before finally looking up.

"Looking for this?" Logan gasped shakily, finding their book in the hands of a stranger.

"Give- give it back!" It became embarrassingly obvious Logan had never been in a situation even slightly similar to this one.

The stranger, dressed in dark, just laughed softly, "what even is this-" they shut the book, the only thing on the cover being a name and a small yellow, white, purple and black flag, "Logan?"

"It's a journal, now give it back!" Despite their tone attempting to be intimidating, Logan still sat on their knees, seemingly shaking. "Who... who even are you!?"

"Well, I know your name, so it's only fair if you know mine," they jumped down from where they perched on a tree branch, starting to walk over, "it's Virgil. Don't laugh."

"Why would I... I laugh?" Logan's voice was now unmasking their anxiety, watching as Virgil moved closer. Along with their dark black clothes, the way they walked only made them look more bat-like.

Virgil shrugged, crouching in front of them, "people can be rude. You're alone in a forest, you probably know that well enough." They squinted their eyes slightly at the anxious person, "but you don't look like an outcast."

"Look closer at the cover," they mumbled, biting their lip slightly. Logan turned their head away, but kept their eyes focussed on the odd stranger. Virgil did as prompted.

"It just says Logan Sanders? That isn't a weird name," it slightly surprised Logan that a nice comment escaped their lips.

They took the journal from Virgil, poking at the flag, "Nonbinary."

"Ah."

"Yeah," they started to pack away their stuff, "just call me a name. I'm leaving. This is obviously your turf."

Virgil gently grabbed their wrist, "no. I didn't mean it like that, I'm just dumb and-" they sighed, unzipping the black and purple patched hoodie with their free hand and pulling one side back to reveal a trans patch on their chest. "Xe/xem. My dumbass just didn't process the flag."

What felt like a boulder of anxiousness was lifted off their chest - this was somebody in their community. Of course, that doesn't make xem an inherently good person, but it helped Logan feel safer.

"That's valid. They/them," Logan anxiously held out their hand. Is this how people introduce each other?

Xe looked at the awkward hand, "are you sure you're not a part of a forest cult and this is a blood pact?"

As if Logan was literally invited to said imagery cult, they let out an almost anxious gasp. Virgil's teasing smirk started to fade, "I'm kidding, L. You just don't know how to socialise." Xe gently shook their hand.

"That's- well-" Logan tried to gather words to defend themselves before just sighing, "yeah, you're correct. I don't."

Yet again, the forest fell silent, bar the sound of the wind. By this point, Virgil let go of their arm and hand, moving back by a foot or two. Logan took this as a sign to silently unpack their bag yet again, gently laying their beloved possessions back onto the dirt. Xe glanced at the bag. "Got anything else in there?"

Logan couldn't help but interpret this as a taunt, lowering their head to focus on finding today's page in their journal, "just general stuff." They didn't look back up, still sorting through the papers, until they felt a gentle hand on their shoulder. Even a gesture as simple as that made their soul melt in the best way possible, making them crack the first smile Virgil saw of them.

"Hey, L, I was being genuine. What do you have in there?" Xe smiled back, showing sharp teeth.

Trying to not focus on how attractive that was, they nodded and pulled the bag between the two of them. Virgil let go of them, sitting opposite Logan.

"You probably now think whatever's in here would be amazing, but it's really not," Logan frowned a little at the thought of letting their new possible friend down, opening the bag wider so they could both gaze in. "It's really just essentials other than what's already out - food, water, cellphone, nature books. There's some small scissors in one of the closed pockets in case I need a sample for something. I rarely test on plants, and never on animals, but sometimes it can be pleasant to just own a part of nature." They froze up slightly once the ramble escaped their mouth, "Oh- I'm sorry for speaking so much, Virgil."

The taller one just smiled, "no, no, don't apologise. I like hearing about all your nerd ramblings, it's sorta... sweet, how much you care."

They nodded, a small smile cracking onto their face again. "Thank you. Do you uh- do you have anything in your..."

"I don't have a bag, if that is what you're asking," xe chuckled a little, inspecting the book labeled 'Common Berries and Mushrooms', "most of my stuff is kept in the jacket. Same stuff as you, mostly. Just replace books with crystals and your journal with headphones."

Logan didn't know whether to question xem about the crystals or what kind of mystical jacket could contain all those things, resulting in them blurting out the gibberish of "how crystal fit."

Xe chuckled at them, "you're adorable, L. The jacket was modified to fit more shit, deeper pockets and that. And I work with crystals, if that's what you were trying to ask." They nodded in understanding, breathing out what sounded like 'fascinating'. "So, what brings you to the forest?"

Trying to gather themselves again, Logan cleared their throat and starting to flick through one of their several books, "I find nature amazing. How a single bug could run the entire forest... it truly is beautiful. I like coming down to the forest, usually after school or dinner, and just walk around, commenting on everything I see - new or known. I love learning. I hadn't been to this part of the forest before, I tend to turn right when entering, but this time I chose the left path."

Nodding along, Virgil listened intently to another one of their infodumps, which ended in xem learning new information about the forest as well. Xe couldn't even blame Logan for finding the forest interesting once xe heard it from their perspective. In all honesty, it made xem want to learn more so they can have genuine conversations about it, as right now it was similar to Logan literally talking to a plant. The ramble continued for almost twenty more minutes, Virgil warming up to asking questions and even making a few notes in xyr phone about this all. It slowly started to form into a proper conversation, eventually leading Logan to politely question the crystals xe carried, which in turn led them to dedicating an entire page to the rocks.

By the time both had worn themselves out with talking, Virgil smiled at the orange and purple sky, "I think it's getting quite late... do you need help packing your things up?" In the time they were infodumping, they also shared a picnic of sorts, leaving a lot more mess than Logan usually had at the end of their forest sessions.

"No, I'm alright..." They smiled, starting to gently stack the large informative books at the bottom of the bag, so they would not crush anything else. "Thank you for this, Virgil, it was nice to talk to somebody."

"Virge."

"Mh?" Logan looked up, Virgil appearing half-blurred as their glasses had slightly fallen down.

Xe chuckled, pushing the glasses up for them with what seemed like a fountain pen, "call me Virge, it's what my friends call me."

Blushing at the gesture, Logan went back to packing their bag, "we're friends?"

"Of course, I don't sit in the forest for hours with strangers," Virgil smiled warmly, the sound of pen scratching being heard as the rest of the forest seemingly fell into quiet. The sound stopped, "well, I better get going back to my dads. I'll see you around, nerd."

As Logan looked back up, xe was already in the tree's. They chuckled softly, "bye Virgil- Virge." After a few more minutes of rearranging their items, the bag was now almost fully packed. Logan took their journal from the ground, about to close it but noticing some new writing. It was in bright purple pen and scruffy handwriting, standing out amongst the neat, black text on the rest of the page.

"Call me - +1-541-555-0130"

They smiled gently, shutting the book and placing it at the top of their bag. Maybe they should.

#virgil writez #sanders sides #analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #tw cult mention #tw anxiety #cursing #tw blood mention #ask to tag #fic #fanfiction #sanders sides fic #fanfic #tss #andromedaspace #🌌my moon my sun and all my stars #platonic analogical #analogical fanfic

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one-chicago-fanfiction · 6 years ago

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Trans Connor Rhodes

((Full disclosure, I am trans. Thankfully my father is way better than Cornelius Rhodes))

Looking back, you don’t even know how it happened. One day you were quiet, because silence was safety. Only speak when spoken too. Don’t say anything he wouldn’t like. If you didn’t say anything wrong, he couldn’t make you pay for it. Sometimes he punished your silences. You were sullen and rude, weren’t the kind of daughter he’d ever wanted. Girls were supposed to be easy to raise. Girls were supposed to take dance classes and blush around boys and dote on their fathers. Girls were supposed to wear makeup and dresses and have their soft, safe rebellions. Why couldn’t you be more like Claire? You couldn’t even blame it on your mother’s death, he told you. Your sister was still vibrant and loving—why weren’t you? After your mother died, after that terrible night with the roof, with your mother’s body in a pool of blood below—you were alone. You grew up stranded in the shadow of your twin, your father using his money to play at being a king. Sometimes he ignored your existence. Other times he made it hell.

You were never really meant for a quiet life.

You were seventeen when it happened, when you stopped being quiet.

Happened. As if it were a single event, and not the culmination of every thought you’d ever had, every moment your heart had spent beating. You had spent years moving through the world knowing who you really were, keeping it buried beneath all the masks your father handed you with his cruelty. Smile more. Wear makeup. Dance at his parties. The doting, dutiful daughter. Beneath the fancy clothes he bought you, beneath the makeup Claire did for you before parties, you weren’t the kind of daughter he’d wanted because you weren’t a daughter at all.

You were a son. That fact was laced through your blood, electricity that came from your very bones. You knew it every second. You’d never doubted it once. You just didn’t have the words to say it aloud.

You were so used to the dull ache of your heart, the way you’d never truly been happy—not even when your mother was alive. It was just life, you thought. You looked like a girl, so people treated you like one. It was just the way you were always going to be. Fine, but not happy. A secret boy who’d never get the chance to live the way you were meant to. How were you supposed to find the words to unearth all of that—to show it to the world? How were you supposed to be happy?

Connor. You chose your name on a Saturday night, pale moonlight streaming in through your open curtains. It was late, so late your father was asleep, but not late enough that your sister was back from her night out. She’d asked you to go, and the invitation had sat like a stone in your gut for the rest of the night. It was the first olive branch Claire had extended in a while, and you turned it down. Things had been weird between you lately, and you just couldn’t face a night on the town with her friends. They all thought you were weird anyway. You and Claire weren’t so identical anymore—her with her long hair and short dresses, you with your oversized hoodies, you with your hair cut short.

You came out slowly, over time, until you came out all at once.

Years ago, you thought you might tell Claire first. If you ever told anyone, you thought it would be her, but the secret language you shared as children was gone, forgotten in a lost corner of your mind. You couldn’t have conversations just by glancing at each other. You didn’t spend evenings and weekends hiding from your father together. She hid with her friends, on nights out, at slumber parties. Night after night on couches across Chicago while you stayed quiet at home. You hid behind the locked door of your ensuite bathroom, headphones in, medical textbooks on the ground before you. Whatever you and Claire had shared, whatever tether the two of you had been born with—it was gone now.

In the attic, a few months back, you’d found a dusty notebook filled with your mother’s scrawl. You ‘d studied it as closely as you studied your textbooks, studied it until the passage that cracked your chest right open, that made you realise things didn’t have to be this way. In the passage, your mother was pregnant. Twins, they’d just discovered. According to this account, your parents were terrified but thrilled. You could barely remember your mother. You clung to thoughts of her smile, the memory of her sweet perfume as she leaned down to kiss you goodnight. You didn’t like to think of her terrified, but you could picture it. You’d seen it before. You’d seen her real life terror, moments before her death. But you couldn’t imagine your father being thrilled about anything. And in your mind, even though it was impossible, you knew that Claire was the baby they’d planned and you were the twin. You were the one they’d never expected.

Your mother had lists of names in the back of her journal, most of them starting with C, and you trawled through the boys names that summer. Cameron, Caleb, Christopher.

Connor.

In the end, you told them both at once. As soon as the words were out, you wondered if Claire would ever forgive you for the way you did it. As soon as the words were out, none of that mattered. Coming out wasn’t a closet for you. It was like crawling out of your own grave.

This is how it happened.

Your father could be truly vile. It was something about a business deal, something about manipulating a potential investor at a party. Your father bought new dresses for the pair of you, low cut things that came halfway down Claire’s thighs. She pressed yours into your hands, your dress teal and her’s black, telling you how great you’d look together. She’d do your makeup. It would be like old times. You could see in her eyes that she was trying to claw back the person you’d never truly been, the sister who didn’t exist. Your father made a comment about the investor’s sons, barely out of their teens, about how much they would enjoy the sight of a pair of stunning girls. If you’ve got it, your father said, flaunt it.

“What if I don’t want it?” You asked. “What if I don’t want any of this?”

“Come on,” your father laughed. “I’ve given you everything. What could you possibly want that I haven’t already bought for you?” You steeled yourself, bit your tongue against the first response that hit you. I want my mom back.

“A suit,” you said, as if you weren’t afraid, as if your hands weren’t shaking at your sides. “If you want me at your parties, I want to wear a suit. And I want you to call me Connor.” A long silence passed. The walls closed in around you. Your father looked from you to Claire, then back again. You caught the silent conversation they’d shared in their look, but you couldn’t decipher any of it. Your palms were wet, your heart pounding, legs on the verge of giving way beneath you. You could barely remember how to breathe.

“That’s what you want?” Your father said, his voice slick with sarcasm. As if you’d asked for something unattainable.

“It’s a start,” you said, your voice trembling with the words. But you didn’t break eye contact. You stared your father down until he pulled his gaze away, until he swallowed hard and held Claire’s gaze a moment longer.

“Very well,” he said, and for one stupid, naive moment your heart actually leapt. You felt it, felt the world get lighter suddenly, your shoulders a little less heavy. Your father met your eye, and brought the world crashing down once more. “Claire, be ready at eight. Connor—get out of my sight. I’ll deal with you, and your delusions, in the morning.”

You can only imagine what would have happened if you’d stuck around, the things your father might have tried to get you to see sense. Conversion therapy, handsomely paid anti-trans therapists. You had no idea. Locking you in your room and denying you access to the things you needed? He would poison Claire’s mind. He was only a person, but he was your father and he could ruin you. He’d been doing it slowly for years.

So you left. One duffel bag full of thrift store boys clothes, a couple books, some cash procured from your father’s study. It wasn’t fancy, but it got you out of there. Three buses later you showed up on your grandfather’s doorstep in the middle of the night, and that was the end of living with your father.

Now all this time has passed, and here you are with him again. Your father, the play-pretend-king, pasty and sick and barking orders from hospital beds. He looks at you a little kinder now. You’re a healer. You’re part of the team that saved his life twice over. Your father shouts at everyone in that room who isn’t you, and when they all slope out, he doesn’t tell you to go with them. You see his mask slip a little bit, the sigh of relief that comes when it’s just you and him. The door clicks shut and the room is too quiet.

“You’re kind of an ass,” you tell him, but your voice is soft. “Do you know that?” Your father’s laugh hacks through the silence, descends into coughing.

“It got me—this far—didn’t it?” He said, but his smile slips away quickly. He isn’t fooling anyone. He isn’t fooling you. You’re sure he can see it in your eyes.

“Listen,” you say, and it’s almost like you’re that frightened seventeen year old again. I want you to call me Connor. “You’re sick. You’re doing okay for now, but we both know how this ends.”

“Are you reminding me—that I’m going to die someday?” Your father asks, this tiny smile on his face, so forced and humourless that he almost looks afraid. Of you.

“I’m telling you,” you start, “that you know what we have to do here.”

“Do I?” Your father’s voice is barely more than a whisper. You can see it on him, how he wants to look commanding, how desperately he wishes this hospital bed were his throne. You give him a look, an almost-smile. Something sympathetic. You see his hands shaking softly on the bed, and it turns your stomach. You lower yourself into the chair at his bedside.

“We have to talk about this,” you tell him. “About everything.”

The silence stretched so long between you it felt like miles rather than seconds. “Yeah,” he admits at last. “I suppose you’re right, Connor.”

#Connor Rhodes #One Chicago #Chicago Fanfic #Cornelius Rhodes #Connor is trans #Trans Connor Rhodes #fanfiction #Chicago med

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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When Rogue is eleven, his best friend starts acting strange, and he doesn't understand why. Sting’s life has been a mess ever since he was eleven years old and Rogue told when he’d promised to keep a secret. Now Sting is an adult, and the only way he knows how to cope is by getting drunk and forgetting the world. When drinking nearly kills him, he gets a chance to turn his life around, and maybe fix his past mistakes.

Chapter Summary: When Rogue is eleven, his best friend starts acting strange, and he doesn't understand why.

Chapters (3/?): 1 | 2 | 3 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe & Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

TW for mentions of abuse (from a kid's perspective)

It's mentioned in the last chapter, but Abbey was Sting's name before he transitioned.

-----

tur·moil | \ ˈtər-ˌmȯi(-ə)l noun : a state or condition of extreme confusion, agitation, or commotion

ii summer age eleven

Rogue meets Abbey on the first day of kindergarten. Another boy is pulling Rogue’s hair, and Abbey stomps up to him and shoves him down to the ground. Then she grabs Rogue’s hand and they run and hide under the jungle gym so the teacher can’t yell at them. When Abbey grins at Rogue, he knows that they’re going to be best friends forever.

-----

The first time Rogue notices that something’s wrong with Abbey, it’s the second week of summer break after grade five. They’re playing soccer at the park when Gajeel shows up and tells Rogue to come home for lunch. Abbey pouts, kicking the soccer ball against Rogue’s shins.

“Come over,” Rogue says, picking up the ball. “Come have lunch with us.”

Abbey shakes her head, looking back down the road toward her house. “I can’t,” she says. “I told dad I’d come home.” She looks at Rogue and he thinks she might explain, but she just shakes her head and says, “see you tomorrow,” before taking off down the street.

-----

Later that afternoon, Rogue climbs up the tree fort in the back yard, and he nearly falls out when he sees Abbey, curled up in the corner with her chin on her knees. The hood of her sweater is pulled up over her head, and Rogue can see dark marks on her wrists. It makes his stomach hurt.

“What happened?” Rogue asks, shuffling over and sitting down next to her. He reaches out for her arm, but she yanks it away, pulling her sleeves down over her hands.

“Soccer,” she says, staring at the spot on the floor where they’d accidentally started a fire last year. There’s still a charred mark across the wood. “’m fine.”

Rogue frowns. Abbey hadn’t fallen when they were playing soccer. He looks around and sees Abbey’s backpack shoved in the corner of the treehouse, settled on top of a pillow and a folded blanket.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” she asks, refusing to look at Rogue.

“You mean have a sleepover?”

Abbey shakes her head. She rubs at her face, then pulls back her hood. Rogue’s eyes widen when he sees her hair. She’s cut off her ponytail, and the dirty blond strands hang in her face, ragged and uneven.

“I mean up here,” she says, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Can it be a secret?” Her eyes are red, and her cheeks are wet, and she won’t look at Rogue. “I won’t be loud. I promise.”

Continue reading on AO3

Rogue looks back down at the house, chewing his lip uncertainly. He can see his parents through the kitchen window; both sitting at the table with their laptops. If they knew Abbey was up here, they’d smile and hug her and insist she come in for supper, but they would send her home afterward.

“You’re too old to be having sleepovers with girls,” Rogue’s mom had said last time he’d wanted Abbey to stay. “Her dad isn’t comfortable with it.”

Rogue thinks that’s stupid, because they’ve been having sleepovers since they were six years old. And Abbey isn’t like any of the girls at school anyway – Rogue doesn’t want to have sleepovers with Kira or Yukino, but Abbey is different.

Abbey is Rogue’s best friend.

“Please,” Abbey says, sniffling again and pulling her knees tighter against her chest. “Dad doesn’t feel good and I don’t wanna go home. I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Okay,” Rogue whispers, shuffling closer. “Yeah. You can always stay here.”

This time when he reaches out, Abbey lets him hug her. Rogue can feel her shaking under his arm and he pulls her closer. Something feels wrong in Rogue’s stomach and he doesn’t know how to fix it. It feels like the time they’d eaten too much popcorn at movie night and he’d almost wanted to throw up but couldn’t.

Rogue wants to ask a million questions. Are you hurt? Why’s your dad sick? Why did you cut your hair? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?

Instead he asks, “are you hungry?”

Abbey shakes her head, but Rogue knows she’s lying. He always brings extra snacks to school because she forgets her lunch a lot, but today she wouldn’t even eat the blue fruit roll-ups that Rogue had brought to the park.

Maybe she’s getting sick, too.

They sit together for a long time, until Abbey is almost asleep against Rogue’s shoulder. When Rogue’s mom calls him in for dinner, he squeezes Abbey’s hand and promises to be back soon.

-----

As soon as Rogue’s parents are asleep, he sneaks out the window and climbs back up into the tree house. Abbey’s asleep, but as soon as Rogue pops his head in, her eyes fly open and she sits up, backing away from him.

“Oh,” she says after a second. “Hey.”

Rogue hands her a container with leftovers in it – his mom had made kraft dinner with hot dogs, which Rogue knows is Abbey’s favorite. He also pulls up a duffel bag filled with snacks, a water bottle, his favorite sweater, and his old iPod.

“Thanks,” Abbey says softly once she’s eaten and they’re curled up along the side of the tree fort where the roof is open to the stars. Rogue’s lying on his back and Abbey’s right next to him, her head on his arm.

“It’s okay,” Rogue says, pulling up the blanket to cover both of them. “It’s always okay.” The iPod is resting on his stomach and they’re sharing headphones, listening to something soft and sad while they stare up at the constellations. “I wish you could stay here all the time.”

“Me too,” Abbey says, tipping her head and resting it against Rogue’s. “When we’re grown-ups we’ll live together, right?”

Rogue nods, reaching down and taking Abbey’s hand. “Yeah,” he says, sliding their fingers together. “We’ll have a big house with a big TV and all the Pokémon games, and we can buy ice cream all the time.”

Abbey giggles, squeezing Rogue’s hand. The sound makes his stomach feel fizzy, like the bubbles when he drinks root beer too quickly.

“You’re my favorite person,” Rogue says, and he sort of feels like crying but can’t quite figure out why.

Abbey’s quiet for a second, then he hears her whisper, “you’re my favorite person, too.”

-----

Yukino’s mom is a stylist, so the next day they go over to her house and she helps Abbey fix her hair. It’s so choppy and uneven that most of it ends up gone, and Abbey’s left with short, blond curls that make her look like a boy.

Rogue thinks she’s never looked happier.

For a while after the night in the tree fort, things seem to go back to normal. Abbey tells Rogue that her dad got better, and she seems happy again, even though she never talks about what happened.

They spend every day together – riding their bikes and playing soccer with Yukino; playing D&D with Rufus and his brother; getting slurpees at the 7-11 down the street. Abbey smiles and laughs, and hugs Rogue a lot, and it seems like everything is going to be okay.

Halfway through summer holidays, Abbey shows up in the tree fort again. She won’t talk to Rogue, just begs him to let her stay. He can’t say no to her, so he just nods and hugs her and wishes he knew why she was crying.

Abbey starts showing up more often, and Rogue starts keeping things up in the fort. There’s a blanket and a pillow, a box of crackers, a water bottle, and his old iPod with all of Abbey’s favorite songs.

“Please don’t tell,” she whispers against him as they curl up together under the stars. “Promise, okay?”

It doesn’t feel right, but Rogue loves Abbey, so he nods and whispers, “I promise.”

-----

One night near the end of summer, Rogue wakes up to Abbey knocking on his window. It’s past midnight and she’s shivering outside, wearing pajama pants and a hoodie and nothing else. Rogue quickly opens the window and leads her to the bed, then lifts up his covers so she can crawl in with him. She leaves a space between them, but he can feel her trembling, so he takes her hand and squeezes it.

“What happened?” he asks softly.

Abbey shakes her head, then shuffles closer until her head is tucked under Rogue’s chin and his arm is wrapped around her. Something warm sparks in Rogue’s chest, and he pulls her close.

“I hate him,” she whispers.

“Who?” Rogue asks, even though he thinks he already knows the answer.

Abbey’s shoulders start to shake as she presses her face against Rogue’s shoulder and bunches the fabric of her shirt in her hands. Tiny, heartbroken sounds escape from her as she cries. She tries her best to hold it in, but sobs keep breaking out, and eventually she grabs the blanket and covers her face with it so that Rogue’s parents won’t hear her.

She apologizes over and over again between sobs, but Rogue doesn’t know why. It’s all she can say, and when she finally falls asleep against Rogue, all he can hear is the echo of her whispered, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

-----

The next morning, Rogue sits on the edge of his bed, chewing on his lip and looking over at Abbey. She’s sound asleep on her back, spread out with an arm thrown over her face. The sleeve of her shirt is pulled up, and there are bruises there that look an awful lot like fingerprints on her wrist.

Rogue knows she didn’t get them from soccer.

He lets out a frustrated breath, running his fingers through his hair as he watches Abbey sleep. She doesn’t look sad anymore, but her cheeks still have tear tracks on them. There’s a tiny smile on her face that Rogue hasn’t seen in a while.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Then he stands up and leaves the room as quietly as possible, closing the door behind him.

His mom’s in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher, and when she sees Rogue, she raises an eyebrow. “You’re up early,” she says. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Rogue doesn’t answer, just slumps down at the kitchen table and rubs his face. His mom frowns, setting down the mugs she’d been putting away and coming to sit next to him.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, stroking his hair like she used to when he was little.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks. His stomach hurts again, and he’s worried that he’s going to throw up. Abbey’s going to be so mad at him. What if she never talks to him again? But she’s hurt, and she was crying, and Rogue doesn’t know what else to do.

“You can tell me anything,” his mom says. “What’s going on?”

Rogue rubs his face. “Abbey’s in my room,” he says quietly. He can feel his mom tense beside him, but she doesn’t say anything. “She came over last night. I let her in the window, and she made me promise not to tell, but I’m scared.”

“Scared of what, honey?”

“Something’s wrong with her,” Rogue says. He feels like crying. “She said she got hurt at soccer, but she says that all the time, and her dad’s sick again so she has to sleep here, but I don’t understand why.”

“Her dad’s sick?” Rogue’s mom sounds as confused as Rogue feels. “Sick how?”

“I don’t know,” he says miserably.

Rogue’s mom moves closer to him, reaching out and resting her hand on his arm. “Sweetheart, no matter what you tell me, I’m not going to be mad, okay?” He wants to believe her, but he’s been lying to them, and she hates it when he lies.

He finally gives in because he just wants Abbey to be okay. “She sleeps in the tree fort sometimes,” he says, looking down at his hands. “I know you said we can’t have sleepovers ‘cause she’s a girl, but she said her dad was sick and she was always sad and crying and…”

“It’s okay,” Rogue’s mom says, pulling him into a hug. She kisses his head and he starts to cry for real now. “I’m so proud of you for telling me, even though you were scared.”

“She’s gonna hate me,” Rogue whispers, wiping his face. “I promised that I wouldn’t tell but yesterday she was crying so much, and I don’t like it when she’s sad, and now she’s never gonna talk to me again.”

“Sometimes we promise things because we think it will help the people we care about,” his mom says, “but you’re doing the right thing by telling me the truth.”

“It doesn’t feel good,” Rogue says, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.

“I know.” His mom pulls him closer and sighs, then asks, “is Abbey still sleeping?”

Rogue nods, looking down the hallway to his bedroom. “Please don’t get mad at her,” he whispers.

“Oh, honey,” his mom says. “I’m not mad at either of you. This isn’t your fault or hers. I know this is confusing, but your dad and I are going to help, okay? And Abbey can stay here for as long as she needs to.”

Rogue’s about to ask his mom what’s really happening, why Abbey is so sad all the time, but they both hear a banging sound from his room. His mom jumps up and runs down the hallway, and Rogue follows her.

His bedroom window is open, curtains blowing in the summer wind, and Abbey is gone.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #nbm2019 #nonbinary month #stingue #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #trans character #fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic

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sanders-specs · 6 years ago

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Pool Night

Summary: Virgil, Roman, Logan, and Patton don’t know each other. They all just happen to be staying at the same hotel, none of them too happy with their situation. They all end up at the pool together and though tensions are high at first, it turns out that being able to open up to three complete strangers is just what they need, complete with a splash fight.

A/N: This was a really random idea I had, and honestly I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!

Paring: Platonic LAMP

Warnings: Cursing, anxiety, fighting, mentions of a house fire (let me know if i missed any)

tag list: @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @dan-yuna @tripleaaaqueer @lilbeanblr @helloisthisusernametaken @justanotherpurplebutterfly @alwaysmy-lilith @ilylogan @logically-trans @seas-space-and-stardust @generalfandomfabulousness @arentordinaryvillainsadorable

Virgil sighed as he looked up at the hotel. It was as big as his father had made it out to be, as if that made up for the fact that he was dragging Virgil along on this stupid business trip. Something about “father-son bonding” but Virgil knew that it would only lead to him sitting alone in the hotel room while his father was on some other floor conversing with other businesspeople talking about business things (admittedly, Virgil wasn’t sure what happened on business trips, or what it was his father did exactly).

“Virgil, come on, we’re running late,” his father said, putting a hand on the back of his neck and leading him into the hotel.

“Running late” in his dad’s world meant that he was late for being an hour early, so Virgil wasn’t in much of a rush. He managed to shake off his father’s hand and stop to take in his surroundings. Not even seeming to notice Virgil being gone, his father just walked straight to the front desk.

The lobby was big, with sections of couches bundled together, a few TVs around, all of them playing something different. There were big doors leading into what looked like a ballroom, and there were people spilling in and out, all of them dressed to their best.

In fact, everyone in the lobby was dressed up. Either in flashy suits like his father or pencil skirt dresses. Virgil was probably the most causally dressed person in the entire hotel. There were a few guests (mostly women) who looked to be dressed in gowns.

“Okay, room five sixty-four, floor five,” his father’s voice cut through Virgil’s thoughts. “Here’s your key.”

Virgil takes it and slides it into his hoodie pocket. “Looks like there’s more than one event going on,” he said, nodding to the group of women who, he realized, were all wearing the same kind of dress.

“Some wedding. Don’t interrupt it,” his father warned. “Just stay in the room. Go to the pool if you want. Look, I gotta go. Order room service for diner, I’ll be back late.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Do me a favor and take my suit case up there too, I won’t need it until later.”

“But I can’t carry mine and yours—”

“I’ll see you later Virgil.”

His father patted his shoulder before walking back towards the front doors, leaving Virgil to find the elevators.

“Ugh, Mom, would you stop! My hair looks fine, trust me. I wouldn’t have left my room if it didn’t.”

“Roman, I’m just trying to make sure you make a good first impression on Serina’s family! After all they’re going to be a part of ours soon.”

Roman rolled his eyes, but ducked away from his mother’s grasp. “Honestly, I think I spent more time on mine than you did on yours. It’s fine.”

The past six months had been hell. Ever since Roman’s brother and his then girlfriend Serina announced their engagement, it was like Roman’s life became wedding central. All he ever heard about was the wedding—the flowers, the cake, the dresses, the tuxes, the freaking stationary—so he was more than ready to be done with the whole thing.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised though. His family was full of control freaks and perfectionist. Everything had to be just the right way. That was why Roman was downright insulted with his mother still trying to fix his hair.

“Hey, I think I’m going to go help with the flowers!” Roman said. Anything to get him away from his anxious ridden mother. He was convinced she was more nervous than his brother.

He ducked out of the room before she could respond, double checking that he had his keycard before letting the door fall shut. Once he was in the silence of the hall, he let out a breath, enjoying it while it lasted. After a moment, he pushed himself off the wall to go to the elevators. Better to do when he said he was going to rather than risk the wrath of his mother.

As he got off the elevator, he bumped into a boy who had his head down. “Hey, watch where you’re going!” Roman snapped before he could stop himself.

The boy looked up, a sharp glare on his face. “Fuck off,” he growled before entering the elevator and hitting the ‘close’ button.

Roman rolled his eyes and went to find the florist.

“Logan, honey, will you be a dear and grab some bags?”

Logan did his best to drown out the screaming and giggling as he grabbed one of six mini suit cases, all of them a different shade of pink or purple. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to be talked into coming on this trip. The last thing he wanted to do on his only two days off school was help babysit his little sister and her friends. Sure, it was for her birthday, but that had nothing to do with him. He’d already given her the present he’d gotten her and attended the mandatory family dinner. This little surprise trip for her and her friends was…unnecessary for him to attend.

“Look at how bit it is!” Angel exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly. “Logy, Logy, look! It’s taller than our entire house!”

“Yes, hotels are usually much bigger, since they have to house a lot of people,” Logan said, grabbing a few more bags and loading them onto a trolley.

Angel grinned, and she and her friends started talking about how exciting this was. Logan shook his head as he unloaded the las bag. His mother wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“You’re a good brother for doing this,” she says.

“More like I can’t resist her puppy dog eyes,” Logan mutters.

His mother laughs. “That too. Come on, Let’s herd these girls inside. They said there’s a wedding going on tonight, so we should get them to the lobby as fast as possible. Go ahead and take the bags up.” She hands him a key card.

“Alright,” Logan says, pushing the cart inside and towards the elevators. The lobby was indeed crowded with wedding guests, all dressed in their funerary. He spotted one boy—a groomsmen, Logan assumed, since he was wearing an identical suit to a few other men hanging around—was attempting to carry a huge case of red roses, though he seemed to mostly be trying to get through the crowd.

Logan returned his focus to the elevators again and managed to make it to them without any of the bags falling, which he counted as a victory.

By the time he got on the floor the room was on, he’d already decided that he wanted to go home. There were too many loud wedding guests, most of whom seemed to already be drunk. Not to mention the too small elevators he had to wait an eternity for. Then when he finally got to the room, he couldn’t keep the door open and get the trolley in at the same time.

“Do you need some help?” a voice from behind the pile of bags asked.

“Just push the trolley in while I hold the door,” Logan responded, forgoing any kind of caution he had about a stranger he couldn’t even see offering help. He just wanted the damned bags inside.

The stranger did as Logan asked, and once the trolley was inside, Logan turned to see who the stranger was.

A boy, maybe Logan’s age, was smiling at him. He had on a light blue t-shirt and jeans with messy brown hair. He also had glasses that were not unlike Logan’s own. Behind him stood a boy with purple dyed hair and a purple and black patched jacket. He had his hands in his pocket and his eyes on the floor.

“Thank you,” Logan said.

“No problem!” the blue shirt boy said. “Enjoy your stay! The rooms are really nice.”

Logan crossed his arms, a mere habit more than anything else. “Do you work here?”

“Huh? Oh, no, just been staying here a while.” The boy smiled and turned towards his friend. “Come on, let’s get you on the right floor.” He looked at Logan and waved. “Bye!”

The two boys walked away, both of them wheeling a suit case. Logan shook his head slightly and shut the door. At least there was one nice person in the hotel.

Sighing, Logan left the bags on the trolley and flopped down on one of the bed, enjoying the silence while he could.

Patton hummed to himself as he slung his towel around his shoulders. “I’m off to the pool Mom!”

“Alright sweetie, have fun!” his mom called from the bed.

Patton patted Charlie—his cute little Charles Spaniel puppy—on the head before grabbing his key card and leaving, stilling humming under his breath as he made his way to the elevators.

At this time of night, there was no one down at the pool. Usually, anyway. Still, though, Patton liked to go down there to just enjoy the night, even if there were one or two people there. he never minded other guests anyway.

When he got to the pool, though, he could tell that it wouldn’t be a usual evening. At least, not with the two arguing boys and another boy sitting as far away from the other two as possible, headphones over his ears.

For a moment, Patton hovered by the gate, wondering if he should just go back to his room. Then he saw the boy with the headphones curl into a tight ball and he found himself moving before he could even think about it.

Gently, Patton put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. The boy jumped and looked up at him. Almost immediately there was a spark of recognition in his eyes. Patton only smiled. “Is it okay if I sit next to you?” He asked, motioning to the spot next to him on the lounge chair.

Slowly, the boy nodded. Patton sat down, giving him a gentle smile. After a few moments, the boy removed one headphone.

“Aren’t you the boy who helped me find my room?” he asked, his voice small and soft.

Patton nodded. “I thought you were the same person.” Earlier, Patton had found this boy wondering around his hall, looking for his room. He’d been struggling with carrying two suit cases and had looked about ready to scream. It’d turned out he’d been on the wrong floor, so Patton had shown him the right place to look, along with helping him with the bags.

“Thanks for that,” the boy said, clearly trying to distract himself, “I don’t think I ever told you.”

“No worries kiddo,” Patton said. “So, uh, how long have those two been at it?”

The boy shook his head. “I don’t know but it’s…” he shook his head again. Patton could see that his eyes were wide, and he seemed to be trying to keep himself from shaking. Clearly, the fighting wasn’t something he liked being around.

“Why don’t you go back up to your room?” Patton asked.

“Being alone is worse,” he said, his words almost inaudible.

Patton blinked. It was nearly midnight. Was this boys parent(s) not back yet? Why would they leave him in such a big place alone?

Patton nodded and stood. “Wait here,” he said to the boy, then walked over to the arguing ones. “Hey, what’s the problem here?”

“It’s none of your concern,” one of them said. Patton frowned for a moment before he realized that this was another boy he’d helped earlier, the one who had the same kind of glasses as him.

“Well, you’re kind of disturbing the others here, so maybe we can either keep it down or, even better! Settle whatever it is you two are arguing about?” Patton said, hoping that the boys would at least consider the other people at the pool. Even if those “other people” was just himself and the headphone boy.

“Don’t look at me, he started it,” glasses boy says, crossing his arms.

“You’re the one who had to comment on my tie!” the other boy said. He was dressed—rather disheveldly—in a suit. Patton assumed he was one of the wedding guests. It seemed that the reception was still going on, if the noise from the ballroom was anything to go by.

“All I said was that it was crooked!” glasses boy said.

“Okay, okay,” Patton said, holding up his hands. “Maybe go to your separate corners. Or better yet, why don’t you just take the tie off, that way it can’t bother anyone?”

Suit boy sighed, but he did as Patton had suggested.

“Good, now why don’t we all just enjoy our pool time huh? I’m Patton! What are your names?”

Glasses boy looked over at him. “Didn’t you help me earlier?”

“Yeah!” Patton said with a smile.

He sighed and stuck out his hand. “Logan.”

Patton shook his hand then looked at suit boy.

“Roman,” He muttered, rubbing his head. Patton frowned.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Why do you care?” Roman snapped.

Patton blinked, surprised by the tone. “Well you seem to be upset about something so I just…”

“Maybe it’s none of your business!”

“Hey! Don’t talk to him like that!” Headphones boy said, storming over.

Roman looked at him with a glare which only got worse once he saw the boy’s face. “You! You were in the lobby earlier. The one who couldn’t be bothered to watch where he was going.”

“Well you’re just as charming as you were then,” the boy said, matching Roman’s glare.

Patton shook his head and got between the boys. “Everyone calm down! Look, I don’t know what’s got you all so heated, but everyone just needs to go to separate parts of the pool to calm down.” He looked at both of them with a small glare of his own. “Go,” he said.

Surprisingly, they did. Roman huffed and marched over to one side of the pool, and the other boy to the opposite side. Patton sighed and looked at Logan, who had taken a step back with headphone boy had walked over.

“Perhaps this will not be as calm an evening as I’d hoped,” Logan muttered.

“Oh, well, it can be. I think everyone just needs some time to calm down,” Patton said.

Logan looked from Roman to the other boy. “Perhaps you are correct.” Then he walked over to headphone boy and sat across from him. It didn’t seem like they were talking, just sitting.

Taking his lead, Patton walked over to Roman. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, not really sure what to do. Roman’s back was to him and he seemed to be breathing heavily. “You know,” Patton said, “maybe dipping our feet in the water will help with cooling off? It’s such a pretty night, it’d be a shame to be angry the whole time.”

Roman glanced back at him, then sighed. “Maybe,” he muttered.

Patton smiled. “You should probably leave those shoes here, though, they look expensive.”

To his surprise, Roman let out a small laugh and took his shoes off, then his socks. He and Patton walked over to the shallow end of the pool and sat on the edge, Roman’s pants rolled up to his thighs. They didn’t talk, just sat next to each other, letting their legs float a little.

Roman closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back and tilting his head up.

For a while, the pool was completely silent. The only thing that could be heard was the fait music from the wedding reception and the slap of water against the side of the pool.

Eventually, there was a small splash across from them. Patton looked up and saw that Logan and headphone boy had joined them. still, though, no one said anything.

After a moment, Patton cleared his throat. “I never got your name,” he said to headphone boy.

“it’s uh…” he looked a little shy. “Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Patton tried out the name. “I like it. Very…dark ages.”

Virgil smirked at that and ducked his head, which only made Patton smile bigger.

“Is the pool always this empty?” Logan asked, filling the silence before it could grow again.

“This late, yeah,” Patton said. “Most people have turned in for the night.”

“You know this because…?”

Patton feels himself blush and he looks down. “I told you, I’ve been here a while.” Patton starts picking at his nails. “My uh…there was a fire, and my house burned down. So, we’ve been staying here. My mom knows the owner and they’re letting us stay until we can get a new house.”

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” Roman said, speaking for the first time since they sat down.

Patton shrugs. “It’s not so bad. Our puppy, Charlie, made it out, and none of us were hurt too badly, so that’s what’s important. Besides, it’s interesting staying here. There’s always new people around,” Patton said with a smile at all of them.

“Still,” Virgil said, “it can’t be easy.”

Patton smiles and looks up at the sky, even though there was little to see with all the lights in the way. “I didn’t say it was easy, just interesting.” He stretched and looked around at the others. “So, what brings you three here?”

Logan groaned and rolled his eyes. “My little sister’s birthday present…her and her friends get to have a slumber party here. My mom dragged me with her so she didn’t have to deal with all of them on her own.”

“No wonder you want to hide down here,” Virgil said, shaking his head before looking back at Patton. “My aunt thought it’d be a good idea to come with my dad on his business trip.”

He didn’t give more detail than that, but considering he was at the pool and not with his father said enough.

“And Roman I assume you’re here for the wedding that happened?” Patton asked.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“Why unfortunately?” Logan asked.

Roman shook his head. ‘It was my brother getting married and just….ugh! the past six months have been all about this stupid wedding. It’s all I could hear about! No one cared when I made the lead in the musical or got a boyfriend or got my heart broken by said boyfriend.” His voice was shaking by the time he was done, and the other boys were staring at him, surprised by his outburst.

Patton scooted closer to him and put a hand on his back. “I’m sorry…your family shouldn’t ignore you just because of your brother getting married. Congratulations on the lead, though.”

Roman’s shoulders slumped, and he shot Patton a small yet grateful smile. “Thanks…sorry for the bit of tmi.”

“No worries,” Patton said with a smile. “It’s good to rant sometimes, you know? Gets frustration out.”

Roman nodded and took a deep breath. He looked across the pool at Virgil and Logan for the first time. “I’m sorry for snapping at you two. I guess I’ve just been on edge from all of this.”

“Eh it’s alright,” Virgil said, leaning back on his hands. “I think we were all holding in some pent-up frustration.”

“That’s an understatement,” Logan said.

“Yeah I just kinda want to forget about it for a while,” Roman said.

Patton smiled, glad to feel the atmosphere shift from tense to relaxed. He got up and then jumped into the pool, effectively splashing them all with water.

“Hey!” Roman exclaimed when Patton resurfaced. “This suit costs more than this hotel!”

“That’s highly doubtful,” Logan said.

“You said you wanted to forget,” Patton grinned and splashed Roman again. “So, jump in! Nothing’s better than a midnight swim, trust me.”

Roman glared at him for a moment, then smirked and stood, stripping off his suit.

“Wait you’re not even going to go change?” Logan asked.

“Eh, swim trunks, boxers, it’s all the same,” Roman said with a shrug. Then he backed up and jumped in the pool next to Patton.

“That is ridiculous,” Logan said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, won’t they shrink or something?” Virgil asked.

Roman and Patton exchanged a look, and both of them knew exactly what they needed to do. Logan and Virgil had turned their attention to each other, clearly with the intention of ignoring the two in the pool, so they swam over and then jumped out and splashed them.

Both boys yelped and leaned back, but now they were both soaked. Thankfully, Virgil had left his headphones and whatever they had been attached to on the lounge chair.

“The water’s great isn’t it Patton?” Roman asked, a big grin on his face.

“Oh, it’s amazing,” Patton responded, giggling.

Logan and Virgil looked at each other, then Patton and Roman. “Oh, you’re on,” Virgil said, already getting up and taking off his jacket and pants. He left his shirt on as he jumped into the pool, very clearly intending to splash Roman.

“Rude!” Roman exclaimed and started splashing him.

Logan wasn’t far behind, and he joined Virgil in splashing Roman, which of course meant that Patton had to help Roman in their splash war.

By the time they’d called it truce, all of them were breathing hard from laughing so much. Both Logan and Patton could barely see, not having thought about taking their glasses off before jumping into the pool. Roman’s hair was disheveled and a mess, a contrast to the perfect hair he’d had before. Virgil’s under eye makeup was nearly gone. None of them noticed or cared.

“Alright, boys, pool’s closing,” a staff member said, poking her head in. “Go dry off.”

Begrudgingly, they did as they were told. Logan, Virgil, and Roman all drying off as best they could before they put their clothes back on. Roman, Patton noticed, only put his pats and under shirt back on. Everything else he carried.

The four of them walked back into the hotel, all of them feeling a bit better than they had when they’d walked out.

“Aren’t you going to go back to the reception?” Patton asked Roman.

“Dressed like this? No, I think my mom would literally have a heart attack. Plus, I think my Aunt Jackie is officially drunk and that’s something that only needs to be witnessed once.”

They all chuckled a little at that and walked towards the elevators. They talked about nothing—school, annoying teachers, Roman’s drunk relatives—as they waited and as they got in. At the first stop, though—Roman’s—he paused and turned to them.

“Thanks,” he said, “for taking my mind off things for a while. Good luck with your sisters, Logan, and Patton I hope you can find a house soon. Virgil, hang in there alright? Sorry again for snapping at all of you.”

“You’re one for dramatic speeches aren’t you?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “Guilty.”

Patton smiled. “Maybe talk to your parents Ro, huh? Once they get over their hangovers.”

Roman nodded. “I think I’ll try.” He smiled at them. “Goodnight.”

He stepped out of the elevator and the doors closed.

Virgil was next. He had fewer words to give, but he did smile at them, which Patton took. For a moment, he wished that he could do more for the boy. Spending the night alone in a hotel room couldn’t have been fun.

Patton and Logan were on the same floor, so Patton walked with Logan to his room. He could hear the giggling of little girls inside, and Logan sighed.

“Hey,” Patton nudged him. “You’ve got this. Show them that you’re the cool older brother.”

Logan scoffed. “Cool would not be the correct word to define me.”

“I don’t know, I think jumping into a pool in your Spider-Man boxers and having a splash fight with three strangers is pretty cool.”

Logan’s face flushed but he crossed his arms and shook his head. “That’s…childish.”

Patton chuckled and patted his back. “Good thing they’re children, Lo.”

Something in Logan’s eyes sparked, and he nodded. Patton wasn’t entirely sure what was going on in that head of his, but Patton was pretty sure Logan just had some kind of revelation.

Smiling, Patton started down the hall on his own. “Goodnight!” he called over his shoulder.

When he got back to his room, Charlie wagged her tail and bounded over to him. “Hey sweetie,” his mother greeted. “Have a good time?”

Patton smiled and scooped up Charlie, who licked his face. “Yeah, it was a pretty good night.”

#sanders sides #platonic lamp #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #my fic #pool night #cursing #fighting #anxiety #house fire

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hawkingbishop · 7 years ago

Text

Here's that gay scene I was talking about:

She’d just come out of her Intro to Philosophy class when she bumped into her. Literally. Bumped into. Like they do in movies. Luckily nobody dropped any notebooks or glasses or anything.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Marilynn said as she put her hands up and stepped back.

Jocelyn looked up and pushed her headphones down to her neck. “No, my fault, I wasn’t looking.”

And then she looked. And she kept looking as her hands fumbled with her headphones. One hand slipped and accidentally hit Marilynn’s hand.

“Oh shit,” Jocelyn said as Marilynn laughed and put her hands in her hoodie’s front pocket. “Sorry,” Jocelyn said while corralling her hands under her backpack straps. “Again, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marilynn said as she took one hand out of her pocket to rudely point at Jocelyn. Her eyebrows scrunched together. “…Jocelyn, right?”

Jocelyn’s hands erupted from their restraints, nearly hitting Marilynn’s hand again before she pulled it back. “Yeah, and you’re Marilynn?! Novo High, right?” She meekly smiled while shoving her hands into her jeans pockets, now.

“Excuse me,” someone behind Marilynn huffed.

“Oh, sorry,” Marilynn said as she stepped aside. Jocelyn followed her. They both started walking down the hall.

“Yeah, yeah! Marilynn, that’s me!” Marilynn said as she looked to Jocelyn. She then put her right hand on her messenger bag, holding onto the strap.

“I thought so. I kinda met you at the end-of-school bash at Mikey Sellers’.”

Marilynn scrunched up her nose, “kinda?”

“Yeah. You were singing Rock Band and I was playing beer pong. One of the…”

“You wanna sit?” Marilynn asked as they were passing the student lounge.

“Sure, sure. I have time before my next class.” Jocelyn said with a smile.

Jocelyn and Marilynn sat down on a couch by the windows. Jocelyn played with the hem of her jacket sleeve while Marilynn held her bag in her lap.

“So, beer pong?” Marilynn asked.

Jocelyn snapped out of her stupor and said “oh yeah! So I was playing and I totally overshot the ball…”

Marilynn snapped her fingers and said “and it hit me in the head! I remember that! So I have you to blame for making me get a shitty score.”

Jocelyn smirked at Marilynn. “Yep. My bad. But, hey, at least I won.”

Marilynn shrugged, “Well at least one of us did.”

“So, you liking the school so far?” Jocelyn asked.

Marilynn looked up from focusing on her bag. “Uh, yeah. It’s not so bad. Different than high school but not really by much. How’re you liking it?”

“About the same. Really digging this lounge though. My high school never had anything like this.” She said, sweeping her hand across the room.

“Yeah. My school was really poor. We barely had enough space in our cafeteria for everyone.” Marilynn chuckled. “Lot of fights started in there. Too much ego for such a small place.”

Jocelyn smiled. “I’m really glad I don’t have to deal with all those little shits from my hometown. Much less homophobia here…” She went back to pulling on her sleeve.

Marilynn frowned and said “I’m sorry. People are terrible.”

“Yeah, this is true. But luckily,” she said while turning to smile at Marilynn, “there are some who are pretty great.”

“Pfft. I’m not great. Hell you don’t even know me. I could be a serial killer for all you know,” responded Marilynn with her best menacing look.

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. “Oh definitely. Marilynn is totally a serial killer name.”

Marilynn shoved Jocelyn’s shoulder. “Yeah, I think it’s almost as popular as Jocelyn. Us -lyn(n)s are all about the murder.”

“Hell yeah! Lyn(n)s unite! Glad I’ve met another one.”

Jocelyn grabbed Marilynn’s hand and lifted it up in front of them.

“By our powers combined…”

Marilynn giggled as Jocelyn finished, “we are Captain Lyn(n)et!”

Marilynn shook her head and said, “Wonder Lyn(n)s powers activate!”

Jocelyn, still holding Marilynn’s hand, smirked and said “I like yours better.”

Marilynn chuckled again, “thanks.” She noticed they were still holding hands and blushed. She took hers back and reached into her bag to pull out her notebook. She set it in the table in front of them and then stuck her hand back in the bag, digging for her pencil.

As Marilynn rummaged, Jocelyn picked up her notebook and flipped through it. Marilynn caught her out of the corner of her eye and internally screamed. She snatched the journal back from Jocelyn and held it close to her.

“Sorry,” Jocelyn said with a concerned look on her face. “I’m too nosy for my own good sometimes.”

Marilynn set the notebook down in front of her again and placed the pencil next to it.

“It’s okay… it’s just,” she said while placing her hand on the book, “private. You know? My journal and all.” Then she meekly turned away.

“No, no. I get it! I shouldn’t have gone through it. I was hoping to find some notes on class. You seem much better at this stuff than I am…”

Jocelyn tapped the book and added, “I noticed some drawings in there. The quick glance I got looked pretty sweet. Is it okay if you show me one?”

Marilynn hesitated, tapping her fingers on the table, shaking her leg. “Sure… but, I’m not very good…”

“Pssh, I’ll be the judge of that.”

Marilynn flipped through her journal looking for one of her favorite drawings. It was one of her newer ones: a portrait of her best friend Persephone, beaming smile and piercing eyes.

She turned the notebook toward Jocelyn and Jocelyn actually gasped. She pulled the book closer so she could get a better look. “This… is beautiful, Mari!”

Marilynn grinned. Then she cocked her head. “Mari? I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”

Jocelyn’s view lingered on the drawing for another beat and then handed the book back.

“I hope that’s okay? It just sounded right.”

“No, no. It’s cool, Joss.” She rebutted with a smile.

“Ha, Mari and Joss. I like that.” Jocelyn said while blushing.

Marilynn had heard about Jocelyn a bit. Rumors mostly. Mostly negative ones at that. Like assholes saying she was a “dyke”. Marilynn usually told them to shut up, or to at least refrain from using awful slurs like that. Since she was trans and her best friend was gay, she knew all too well the bigotry and hurt of others.

Marilynn still wasn’t sure about her sexuality, though. She knew her bestie was, as she called herself, “gayer than a double rainbow over a pride parade on the island of Lesbos.” Marilynn always loved when she said stuff like that. It was okay for Persephone to talk that way. She’s a lesbian and only ever makes fun of herself.

Too bad Persephone had to go to Western U instead of here…

She’d considered joining the LGBTQ club at school, but hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. She knew most of the kids at her high school knew she was trans, but with puberty blockers she passed pretty well. She wasn’t sure if she wanted people at college to know just yet. She wanted to try being a “real” girl for a while. (Even if she hated herself for thinking that.)

And now she’d met a new friend who saw her as she’d already wanted to be seen! It filled her with joy and pride.

Marilynn ripped a page out of the journal and closed it, then started writing on the scrap.

Jocelyn twirled her dark straight hair with her finger while chewing her bottom lip. She looked quizzically at Marilynn, watching her write, her pencil gliding across the page.

Marilynn finished and passed the note to Jocelyn.

She looked it over and before really processing what it said she told Marilynn “I love your handwriting. It’s like a musician’s.” She smiled at Marilynn and Marilynn said “thanks” while trying to suppress a smile and look away.

Jocelyn actually paid attention to the note now. It was info on the LGBTQ club and Marilynn’s number.

She looked up to see Marilynn blushing. “Oh!” Jocelyn said. “You’re gay too? I mean, my gaydar has been on the fritz lately so I wasn’t sure.” She nervously laughed and added (not so) under her breath, “but I hoped…”

Flustered, Marilynn said, “uh… no… I…” and fiddled with the string on her hoodie, her leg shaking even harder now.

Jocelyn’s face softened. She scooted closer to Marilynn and put her hand on her leg. It stopped shaking immediately. But the other one took up the job.

“It’s okay sweetie. Nothing to be ashamed of. I promise not to tell anyone.” Jocelyn gave her a sympathetic smile.

It took all of her inner strength to remove Jocelyn’s hand from her leg and then moved a bit further away.

“No, I… was trying to say… I’m not gay. I’m…” her throat caught. Why was this so hard? She’s not ashamed of who she is.

Jocelyn tilted her head and asked, “what? Bi? Pan? Queer? Ace?”

Marilynn fidgeted with her hands in her lap. She muttered “…trans.”

Jocelyn leaned forward a bit and said “what?”

Marilynn repeated herself a little louder this time, “TRANS.”

A boy walking by looked up and over at them. Maybe it was a little too loud…

Marilynn clasped her hand over her mouth, her face beet red now.

Jocelyn’s mouth hung open. Marilynn looked over and was even more mortified. Something she didn’t think was possible.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said as she started gathering her things. She reached for the note but Jocelyn put her hand overtop of Marilynn’s.

“No, no. It’s okay. So you’re trans, so what?” She said in a low whisper. “It’s just I never would’ve guessed. You’re beautiful!”

Marilynn took the compliment with a grain of salt. She knew all about that type of compliment. “You’re pretty for a trans girl”, "You’re too pretty to be trans", all the little transphobic undertones. But… she wasn’t sure if she heard it in Jocelyn’s voice.

She looked up slowly and swallowed. “…thanks.”

“No problem.” Now it was Jocelyn’s turn to fidget and look away. “I was actually hoping you were queer…”

Marilynn hesitated.

“Oh shit,” Jocelyn stated while hitting her forehead with her palm. “I’m sorry. I know some people still hate that word. I use it for myself a lot and constantly forget not to use it for others.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just, like I said, I’m not gay. Not into girls… sorry.”

Marilynn could see the disappointment cross over Jocelyn’s face, quickly replaced with her normal congenial smile.

“Totes cool. No biggie. Sorry to assume.”

“No, I’m sorry too. I’ve only heard�� rumors about you, but I thought you might wanna join the club with me. I’m not good with new people and all and it’s been easy talking to you.” Marilynn smiled.

“Oh, of course! I was already thinking of checking it out, but let’s totally do it together. …er, go the club together, that is!” She giggled and Marilynn followed suit. “Us -lyn(n)s have gotta stick together after all.”

#Tulomb #becks writes

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moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown · 8 years ago

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The new Hamilton is a girl! (Lin x female!reader)

{a/n: first part yay! Um yeah I hope ya like it, I got things wrong yes I know, um enjoy} Warnings: idk man if I have anything please tell me, so I know Summary: you get the part, only thing Lin doesn't know one very important part, you are very much a girl Lin had been in London when he got the email about the new Hamilton, a sound file attached, he put his headphones on, pressing play, the music started and he heard a slightly higher voice, but it was damn close to his when he played Hamilton, he found himself getting into his voice, reading the email, ‘Lin, so we found someone, half Hispanic half like a mix of the U.K. And like Poland, higher-low tones, no actual acting experience besides like middle school musicals, would be the shortest Hamilton we’ve had, around 5’3, youngest too, only 21, photo attached’ clicking the image was a short black haired guy, a slightly more androgynous vibe, but I mean he’d seen guys who looked like girls all the time, it wasn’t unusual for younger guys on broadway to have slightly more feminine features they looked young, which wasn’t always bad, I mean if Javier could play an older Hamilton, why not a younger one, the guy had talent, able to rap and spit, met other requirements he seemed like a good fit, though when he was done here he would half to see for himself, they would be in rehearsals right now, seeing as the new cast members wouldn’t be going on officially for a year almost, practice was the most important thing for his show. Sighing her hit reply quickly ‘I approve, have him fitted for costume, I wanna see him when I come home, let's see what this kids got’ he looked at the photo again ‘Kids good looking,’ Lin sighed shutting his laptop before sighing figuring he should sleep at some point. Your pov: The call had come when you were at work, answering as you stacked books on the shelf of the library ‘New York city morgue you slice ‘em we dice ‘em this is Casper speaking how can I help you’ the laugh on the other end made you smile ‘(Y/n), it tommy kale, so the powers above, the holy creator and final decision maker has approved, welcome to the show mister Hamilton’ you dropped the books in your hands loudly your coworker looking at you laughing, you held your finger up ‘So I...i made it, like for real?’ You wanted to scream but held it in ‘You did, rehearsals start bright and early tomorrow, we gotta get you ready for stage and for Lin's approval in a few months’ your throats went dry at his name ‘Um...does he know the one major thing, ya know um..you know...that I kind of have tits and stuff’ the sigh gave you your answer ‘We wanted to keep that secret for now, only so he goes in blind to see you are perfect, trust us okay, so i’ll see you tomorrow then?’ Sighing you nodded ‘Tomorrow bright and early’ with that you hung up before squealing dancing around happily, your co-worker rushed up ‘What's going on? Did you get it? Are you the new sexy Hamilton?’ You looked at her nodding she smiled hugging you tightly ‘Oh my god! I’m so happy for you! The first female Hamilton, breaking doors for all the ladies shoved into gender norm roles on stage’ you smiled nodding ‘Yeah expect, the original and creator said before that on broadway it would be colorblind but not genderblind, he has no idea i’m not ya know a guy’ her smile fell nodding ‘Well then you prove you are more than able,’ you nodded sighing as you got back to work. Lets just say sleep was impossible that night. The months passed quicker than you expected, the costume fitting was the uncomfortable part, you had heard from many of your trans* friends that binders sucked for the first few days, and they sent you tips to make it slightly less rib crushing, you thanked them, today you were going to be all dressed up for the creator himself to see how you would look on stage, it was no surprise he was slightly worried, seeing as you would be the shortest Hamilton, not your fault you got your mother's height, you buttoned the shirt over your now flat chest sighing, what was nice was the not needing like an industrial sports bra for once, damn your grandmother's big breast gene, sighing you sat in the makeup chair, as they smiled helping make you look like a true Hamilton, they had helped the flood you called your hair, which you had warned would never grow down like Lin's in a year, you cursed the teenage years of bleach and dye. Soon you could hear the voices of happiness of friend reconnecting, the voice you knew all too well as the Lin-Manuel Miranda, you wanted to puke. Soon you were ready, an encouraging shoulder squeeze from the ensemble girls you had become fast friends with helped ‘You will do great, Lin is a sweetie, he has hawk eyes during practice but after he is the sweetest man you’ll meet’ you nodded walking into the practice room seeing the now famous grey sweater, he was here, this was it, dream achieved or dream destroyed, he held it in his hands, he had the power to put the understudy in over you, he could just put you in the ensemble, not that you would complain, but you had sort of grown to make Hamilton your own. Sighing you walked in fully the menturninga d smiling,Lin's eyes took you over as tommy and Alex spoke to him his eyes not leaving yours as they walked up ‘Lin this is (y/n), our new Hamilton’ he looked at you nodding ‘He looks good, the shoes bring his height up at least a little, and the costume fits nicely, he's a regular ten dollar founding father’ you smiled nodding ‘Thank you’ you tried to make your voice just slightly deeper as you spoke, he nodded ‘Alright show me your skills mister hamilton’ you nodded as they turned going to watch you guys rehearse, you heard the music start and on cue you walked out doing your best not to fumble because of your nerves, soon you had forgotten that Lin was even watching, it was the cabinet battle where the horror you tried to stop happened you fumbled the first verse, then the tripping over your feet didn’t help, soon the song ended and you wanted to curl into a hole and never come out, sighing a break was called, you were told to stay behind, the ensemble girls walked by squeezing your shoulder to help calm you, you now stood alone with Lin and Alex and tommy, Lin looked at you nodding ‘So, the fumbled lines and tripping, they happen to everyone, nerves will do that, I...God you are amazing, like wow, you look the part, you sound the part, this is amazing!’ You smiled nodding ‘Really? I’m not doomed to the cage of rejected cast calls?’ Lin threw his head back laughing ‘No, no you're not, in 6 months time, you will be on stage, and the world will never be the same’ you nodded as they dismissed you to go change, practice was done for the day. You nodded practically skipping back to get your normal clothes. Wiping the makeup off you saw your female features appear sighing, when he finds out you would be screwed. Slowly and carefully you peeled off the costume hanging it up before slipping pulling off the binder groaning happily as you could breath again, you didn’t hear the door open ‘Hey I just wanted-’ you turned quickly forgetting you were topless, Lin stood eyes wide mouth open ‘Your a...you have...um’ you grabbed your shirt holding it over your chest unable to say anything, ‘Um...excuse me’ the door, shut but you heard the shouting Alex and Lin were loud you changed slipping your normal clothes on, before sitting on the couch your head in your hands fighting the tears, this was it, you were done, Hamilton was pulled from your hands. You bit your lip as the tears fell down your cheeks, sighing you stood pulling your hoodie and bag on wiping your eyes before walking out, and straight into a solid force falling back you caught yourself looking up at Lin who looked back,at you before coming in and shutting the door ‘So, here's the deal, i don’t like the fact I was lied to, but I understand, so, you are still Hamilton, cause damn your good, but, i want to work with you on some things, voice tone and pitch, and movements, we are gonna make this the most convincing Hamilton okay’ you looked at him smiling nodding ‘Yes sir’ he smiled before pulling you into a hug, ‘Welcome to Hamilton’ you smiled nodding against his chest your arms around his waist. Soon you broke apart, he walked you out and offered to walk you home which you accepted. The conversation was natural and normal between you, friendly, once at your apartment complex he sighed ‘Well good night mister hamilton’ you laughed ‘Goodnight mister Miranda’ he laughed nodding you walked up the steps turning to wave good bye as you pulled the door open...turning ‘Wanna come up for like coffee? I mean if ya want’ he nodded following you. You felt the beginning of a wonderful….whatever this would be.

#lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel x reader #hamilton x reader #hamilton #lmm

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