#i don’t think there are a lot of teenagers as of now into sanders sides….it got popular when ppl were 16 and now their 23!

[ponyt4il]

modernization is lost in certain fandoms while others…thrive on it!

[logically-asexual]

This is the last one I swear, but like Thomas just gaslights his fandom a lot.

i don’t think i would use the word gaslight but he’s definitely being really mean to everyone.

like others said about his comments, he’s clearly super insecure about not having posted the episodes yet and instead of dealing with it he’s angrily taking it out on anyone who dares even point out that it’s been a while since the last sanders sides.

he probably doesn’t realize the scale of the damage, but it sucks specially because of the parasocial relationship he has cultivated from the fans toward him. like. i don’t assume malicious intent, he wanted to feel close to the fans so he goes out of his way to interact with as many people as he can and in a way that makes them feel heard which is a nice idea in theory (and in practice most of the time). but it becomes ugly when he can’t control his own emotions and decides to shame anyone who he feels is being mean to him.

because the shaming is not only NOT happening between equals, since thomas is clearly the one in a better position with his big fan base, but is also made worse by the fans he shames seeing him as some kind of cool older brother instead of a random famous guy. again i don’t assume he’s purposely intending to do this but he is taking advantage of those parasocial relationships when he brings up his “mental health” and his happiness to defend himself. because anyone else wouldn’t care but fans definitely will feel bad about making him sad. it’s manipulative.

if a comment is just pointing out it’s been a while since the last episode (which is absolutely not a mean thing to say) or if it’s actually being insulting, either way how much that could (or should, i guess) hurt thomas is not even close to how much he’s hurting these fans he publicly complains to (and others who will see them as an example). i don’t know if he realizes the difference. he probably just goes “oh you made me feel bad, i’ll make you feel bad and now we’re even” but that’s not how it works.

because thomas is a 34 year old who has been making content for the internet since he was ?? what?? 26? like. he should know how to handle (ie ignore) comments he dislikes from random users on the internet he’s never heard of before. while these fans are probably teenagers who look up to him and don’t deserve to be treated that way by the person they’re a fan of + their other fans who follow anything he says and might continue harassing them after thomas.

and by doing this he’s also saying to everyone else “i love my fans so much!! i read my comments and reply to them with love 🥰 but my love is conditional because if you say the tiniest thing that i disapprove of i will find you and i will shame you personally in front of everyone else. so be careful what you say. but i love you all 🥰”

which isn’t a very nice message.

[monkeythefander]

A Witch and a Baby

Chapter 1: Prologue- The Day Logan Became a Dad

Content Warnings: None that I know of (let me know if I missed anything in the comments)

Summary: Logan lived by himself and didn’t exactly have any friends, until a baby suddenly appeared in his life.

(Aka: Logan’s guide to becoming a dad and making friends)

Click see more to read the fanfic.

It was late in the evening, and Logan was relaxing in his cottage in the Sanders woods. These woods are home to all sorts of magical beings. Logan happens to be a witch.

Logan was reading a mystery novel as he sat on his lounge chair in front of his fireplace. He was about to move onto the next chapter of his book when he heard a knock on his door. Logan waits for a moment before getting up, not expecting any visitors. He doesn’t exactly have any friends. The knock happens again, so Logan finally gets up and answers the door.

Outside of his house stood his ex-mentor, The Dragon Witch. Logan had first heard of the powerful witch with a dragon tattoo on her wrist as a teenager, and wanted to learn magic from her. When Logan turned 18, he went off to ask her for an opportunity to be her apprentice. She accepted him as her apprentice and he learned from her for four years. She taught him a lot of spells and gave him a place to stay so he could move out of his parents’ house. A few months ago, a now 22-year-old Logan felt that she couldn’t teach him anything else and decided to go off and keep studying magic on his own. So Logan told the Dragon Witch he was going off on his own, bought a cottage that was a good distance from a small village and made it his home. He told her where he was moving to in case she ever needed to speak to him. However, Logan didn’t expect his former mentor to want to see him again, since she seemed disappointed when he left.

“Hi, Logan. Long time no see.” The Dragon Witch says with a small smile on her face. It’s at this moment that Logan notices she’s holding something in her arms.

“Salutations, Ms. Dragon Witch. What brings you here this evening?” Logan asks curiously, while looking closely at whatever is in her arms.

“Oh, you don’t have to be so formal with me dear. You may not be my apprentice anymore, but you can still call me by my name.” She says.

“Okay, Delaney. Now, please tell me, what brings you here? And what’s that in your arms?” Logan says, tapping his foot slightly out of impatience.

“Oh, you mean this little one.” She says as she adjusts the thing in her arms to reveal it’s a baby wrapped in a blanket. The baby has a little bit of dark brown hair on their head and green scales on the left side of their face. They are asleep at the moment.

“Why do you have a baby? You always used to say you didn’t want to or have time to care for children.” Logan asks, staring at the baby in shock and confusion.

Delaney chuckles before responding. “Well, I had a bit of a potion mishap. I was trying to create a baby dragon for myself. After you left I’ve been wanting a companion, but none of the typical pets really like me. I thought I might as well live up to my name and create a dragon. But I seem to have messed up the potion somehow and ended up with this baby boy. He has scales, so the potion somewhat worked. His scales seem more snake-like though.”

“Okay…and why did you bring him here to meet me? I haven’t taken care of any babies before so if you need parenting advice I don’t think I’ll be of any help.” Logan says and crosses his arms.

“Don’t think so little of your skills Logan. You’d make a way better parent than I ever could. That’s actually why I brought this baby here. I want to give him to you.” Delaney says with a smile on her face. Logan stares at her in shock. He hasn’t seen her since he left her apprenticeship and now she reappears to ask him to raise a baby for her.

Delaney continues before Logan can try and argue against her idea. “You’re very smart and reliable Logan. Way more reliable than me. I’m always traveling to sell potions and gather ingredients to make more. I wouldn’t be able to provide a child with a stable home life. You on the other hand, from what I’ve heard from the village residents as I searched for you, tend to stay in one place. You keep to yourself and are frequently home. And you’re also very smart, so I know you’ll be able to figure out parenting on your own. You’re also the only person I trust with important things, like this baby. I wouldn’t want to send him to an orphanage or leave him on a random doorstep. So please, can you take care of this baby for me?” Logan stared at her for a moment, caught off guard by her kind words. Back when he worked for her, she did compliment him, but never this much.

“Are you completely handing over guardianship to me? Or do you still want to be involved in his life?” Logan asks.

“I’d like to be able to visit him when I can, but I wouldn’t want to be a parent. Maybe I’d consider myself his aunt. While you were my assistant I did start to feel like you were a younger brother I was trying to keep out of trouble.” Delaney says.

Logan sighs, “I didn’t cause that much trouble for you. Yes, some of my spells resulted in the cottage getting messed up but it was easy to fix. Anyways, okay, I’m fine with you being the aunt. And I guess I’ll take over the parental role for you since you trust me so much.”

“Oh, thank you Logan. I promise to visit and help out when I can. For now, here he is.” Delaney then hands Logan the baby. Logan carefully adjusts the infant in his arms and rocks him, trying to keep him calm since he woke up due to being put in someone else’s arms. The boy has one golden eye on the scaled side of his face and a brown eye on the other side.

“Does he have a name yet?” Logan asks. Delaney shakes her head no.

“I thought you should be the one to name him, since you’re going to be his dad. So, what will you name him?”

Logan then looks down at the baby boy in his arms and tries to think of a creative name. He then remembers being told about a certain god as a kid, and felt that the name would fit this child well.

“I’m going to name him Janus.” Logan says and the Dragon Witch smiles in response.

“That’s a lovely name, Logan.” She replies. Then she glances at her watch and sees how late it’s gotten. “I should probably go now, and let you and Janus get settled. I have to travel to sell some potions tomorrow, but I promise to come and visit again when I get back. Goodnight Logan.” Delaney waves goodbye before walking away into the night. Logan watched her go before stepping back into his house and closing the door with one hand, holding Janus with his other arm.

“I guess it’s just you and me now, Janus. I’ll do my best to take care of you. We can go to the village tomorrow to get some things for you.” Logan says to the baby, who makes a squeaking noise.

End notes: Thanks for reading. This is my first time trying to write a multi chapter story, so please leave a comment, like, or reblog if you’ve enjoyed so I’ll know you want me to continue this story.

Link to next part: https://www.tumblr.com/monkeythefander/737266270016241664/a-witch-and-a-baby-chapter-2-logan-makes-a

Link to this fanfic on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52055863/chapters/131648824

[thecrescentmind]

I currently need to remake their refs so instead of refs you get screenshots from the wip I’m never finishing.

Sanders Sides OC introductions!!! (TCM au act one) intro explanation/context to the au here

Yapping about them under the cut!!!

Since I got some reason decided attempting a fanseries was a good idea I’m going to be vague about spoilers and the sides will be referred to be titles instead of their actual names, I’ll probably give up on being vague about spoilers eventually but for now I’m trying

Let’s start with the basic one: it’s me but not really: TCM!Crescent

Taking the role of c!Thomas: Crescent is the protagonist! The one whose mind everyone else is apart of! They’ve only just been introduced to their sides and will learn more about them as we go. His personality is a combination of the four he’s met. She’s creative, kind hearted, emotional, anxious, a bit awkward, and simultaneously very smart and very stupid! Well, that’s not all he is, but we don’t have to think about that, do we? TCM is a fun show where we only have to deal with the problems we want to face, we can just ignore that, this place is an escape and no one is going to change that.

Crescent is different from c!Thomas in well, they are literally just different people. Crescent is a teenager with a different gender and sexuality. I guess in terms of what they do in the story the first difference I think of is that Crescent is more aware of certain parts of themselves. This won’t stop him from acting just as oblivious though.

Now we have Artist: Embodiment of creativity, imagination, passion, and ego!

Artist takes the role of Roman! They’re passionate, creative, brave, a bit hyper, and the most confrontational of the group. He likes to act as a hero, even having a “magical girl” (despite not being a girl) form to transform into! She’s very willing to fight or get aggressive when nessecary, maybe even a bit too much. Funfact: the two dots on their crown are eyes! Her crown’s name is Ray and they’re what she used to transform into Ember Knight (the name she gave her magical form). Funfact 2: Despite being the creative side of a horror fan, Artist doesn’t like horror! Wonder what that’s about…

In terms of differences from Roman, Artist is less regal and overall has different vibes and demeanor. She also takes his thing with wanting to be a hero up several notches. She’s also less likely to just insult her friends for no reason, she will be kind of rude but with reasons. Basically if someone’s rude to her she’s rude back almost imeadiatley and she’s very aggressive towards people she has unresolved conflicts with.

Next up is Intel: Embodiment of intelligence, reason, and logic!

Intelligence, or Intel as literally everyone calls them for short takes the role of Logan! The most knowledgeable side in the mindscape, Intel is just as smart and rational as you’d think they’d be. They can be overly cold and serious at times, but that comes from a genuine desire to get things done and help out. And boy does she do a lot of helping! With Crescent being a former gifted kid who now as a teen is almost always in advanced classes (or art related classes, at least Artist can handle that part of their school) and with Intel always trying to use reason to calm the others down when things get serious, he certainly has a big job! Just hope they can handle it.

Intel acts a lot like Logan but the vibes are shifted to the right (listen it’s hard to describe how she acts I swear she’s different) but her arc and struggles are very different. Because of how much Crescent needs her she’s very hard to ignore so she isn’t really, tldr burnt out gifted kid needs a break.

Then there’s Heart: center of feelings and morals!

(I know her color is kind of hard to see I’ll fix that eventually) Heart takes the role of Patton! She’s kindhearted, empathetic, and very sensitive. The least aggressive or confrontational of the group. They’re the youngest of the gang, everyone is physically and more or less mentally the same age as Crescent but Heart formed the most recently. However they’re not a child and will dispute claims they are. Being the newest to the group they have big shoes to fill and he’s still learning how to do that best, can Heart really fill the void he left behind?

While Patton is seen as the group dad, Heart is often seen as the group child (even if she disputes it.). Her arc involves a lot of coming into her own in different ways.

And finally there’s Stress: embodiment of fear and anxiety!

Stress takes the role of Virgil, including starting out as an antagonist. At this point in the story they’re very rude and condescending, masking everything underneath a scary persona they’ve had as long as anyone can remember. But it has been a while. Him deciding to be a threatening presence within the show was a bit surprising for the other three sides, ever since the incident she’s mostly done her job remotely, staying away from direct confrontation with the others unless something major happens. So why do this now? There’s something deeper that they’re connected to, and I don’t think Crescent wants to find out what.

Stress has more energy than Virgil, but you won’t notice that at first because the scary persona definitely takes some of that energy to keep up. Her motivations are also pretty different from his but I’ll keep that a secret for now (she has the most complicated backstory out of everyone you will see)

[snowdice]

Best Laid Plans (Part 6/8: Following a Van) [Sometimes Labels Shift Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships:  Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Virgil & Roman, Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Virgil, Roman

Appear: Logan, Patton

Mentioned: Remy, Emile, Janus, Remus

Summary:

Virgil (now) Sanders was once a villain vigilante kid down on his luck. After being injured helping the superhero Bluebird, he ended up being adopted by him and his husband. Logan and Patton Sanders helped Virgil in ways he didn’t even know he needed. Since then, he’s put away his persona of Shadow Caster, the strange, hard to label, super who haunted the city for a few years. Instead he’s opted for being a normal teenager and university student.

But while Logan and Patton often forgot in the midst of ice cream and movie nights and arguments about silly little things who he had been, he never had. And when worst comes to worst, Virgil will be willing to reach for a mask once again despite his fathers’ wishes and expectations.

Sometimes even the best laid plans fail.

Thanks to @bilgisticallykosher, @kiapet2, and ASmallForest (on discord) for being betas!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

They landed on the top of the bridge with a surprisingly light clink. The bridge only shuddered lightly, which was all that Virgil could hope for from the rusted old thing. Prince set him on his feet immediately. The trip up had been fast and painless, but Virgil much preferred being flown up places via Logan’s powers to being carried up like that.

“He’s definitely been up here,” Prince said, looking around as Virgil stepped away. Virgil glanced around at the empty area in confusion.

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“Bluebird has little, what I call, ‘bird nests’ all over the city. They’re usually pretty secluded but have a good view of things. I know about some of them, but not all of them.” 

He pointed a thumb in the direction of the newer bridge. 

“This one has a view of the major interstate into town,” he said. “And there, a bit in the distance is the trainyard. It’s a good middle spot.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “It makes sense one of the ‘bird nest’ things would be here, but how do you know for sure that it’s one?”

Prince leaned over and tapped on a wall. A compartment in the side popped open. 

“Basic medical supplies and snacks,” said Prince. “He keeps all of them fully stocked at all times, just in case.”

“Of course, he does,” Virgil said with a headshake and small smile. “So, between the tracker and knowing that, this is almost certainly the last place he was.”

Prince nodded.

“Now, people might notice if we have light up here for too long,” Virgil pointed out, already raising his hand anyway.

“They probably will,” Prince agreed.

“So, let’s look fast.” With that, he let light flicker to life in his palm.

The light made one thing immediately apparent.

“Fuck,” said Virgil. “That’s blood.” 

It wasn’t a lot, not to the point where Virgil was worried Logan had died here, but enough that Virgil was worried Logan had been injured here and dragged off somewhere to be killed. He resolutely swallowed those fears and the emotions associated with them.

“I don’t think it's just his,” Prince said, pointing. 

There was another blood splatter on one of the ledges leading to the little base at the top of the bridge. It was smaller, but it was also right above what was clearly a missing piece of metal. 

Prince and Virgil looked down, down into the rushing water.

“So more than one person, then,” Virgil surmised. Whoever that was had almost certainly gone into the water unless they[,] too[,] could fly. “That’s good.”

“Why is that good?” Prince asked skeptically.

“One person could disappear,” Virgil said. “Any more than that and they almost certainly made a mistake somewhere. We just have to find it.” 

Virgil had once been terrified of heights. He still was a bit, but having a father that could catch him easily no matter how high he fell from had helped him calm down about it over the years. Logan had even taken him flying a few times. Virgil used that control over his fear to take a step out onto the metal beam that led to the bloodied metal beam. Logan might not be here, but he was still the reason Virgil was able to ignore his anxiety over the height.

“What are you doing?!” Prince asked.

“Looking for clues.”

“Weren’t you the one worried about this thing crashing to the ground a couple of seconds ago?”

“That’s before I found blood in the last known location of Bluebird.”

That shut up Prince.

Virgil could put together what had happened out on these beams. Whoever had stood here had been on the beam below, which was now doubtlessly in the water. He must have taken Logan by surprise and Logan must have pulled the beam out from under him, sending him down. It looked like whoever it was had had their head slammed against a beam above them.

Virgil looked around carefully. He’d always been good at those find-the-difference games as a kid. He thought it was probably the anxiety.

After a couple of seconds, he noticed a small, far too shiny piece of metal within the more rusted pieces of metal. It was laying very precariously on one of the beams a few feet away and below him.

He considered it for a moment, and then solidified one of his shadows enough to carefully wrap around it. He used the shadow to bring the small piece of metal into the little hideout next to Prince.

“Don’t touch that,” he warned.

Prince gave an insulted noise. “I know.”

Virgil ignored him, choosing to put most of his focus on where his feet were going. He slipped back into the more structurally sound area with a breath of relief.

Then, he shined a light on the piece of metal sitting on the floor between him and Prince. 

Prince knelt down to look at it more closely. “Bullet casing,” he said, “but it’s a weird one.”

“Weird how?”

“I know what most commercially manufactured bullets look like,” he said. “This one looks custom-made. Can you use your shadows to roll it over?”

“Sure.”

“It’s a weird shape too,” Prince mused. He paused for a long moment, thinking while staring at the bullet. “It’s not quite the same, but it does remind me of a bullet casing found in the house of a missing woman named Brenda Young about 6 months ago.”

Virgil frowned. “How on Earth would you know that?”

Prince shrugged. “I hang around the police station sometimes.”

“And they just let you eavesdrop on their case?” Virgil asked.

“I didn’t say they let me do anything,” Prince replied, amused. “The reason it stood out to me was, first because all of the cops were confused about where the bullet had came from, and second because there was circumstantial evidence that Brenda Young may have been the vigilante Ice Hornet.”

“The one that went mysteriously missing from the scene 6 months ago?” Virgil asked.

“Bit of coincidence, huh?” Prince said, looking at the bullet and the blood splatter on the floor.

“Her thing was water manipulation,” Virgil contemplated.

“Yep.”

“That’s close to telekinesis.”

“It’s very close to telekinesis,” Prince said, supporting Virgil’s suspicions.

“Well, that’s worrying,” Virgil said, pinching his brow.

“She hasn’t turned up dead yet,” Prince offered.

“That doesn’t mean she’s alive,” Virgil said, “and it certainly doesn’t mean she’s okay.”

“Hmm,” Prince said. “They only found one bullet casing at Young’s house, under a couch. However, there were clear signs that more than one bullet had been fired, but almost all of the casings had been cleaned up. The police thought there were at least 3 shooters. Think they’d bring fewer people for Bluebird?”

“Never in a million years,” said Virgil.

“So, at least 3 or 4 people and one fully grown unconscious man,” Prince said. “They probably had a car. Maybe a big car.”

“Or a boat,” Virgil pointed out.

“Or a boat,” Prince agreed, “but either way there had to be some vehicle which would be a lot easier to spot than a single person, especially since it doesn’t look like a lot of cars come this way, and a boat docking around here would be strange.”

“Right, okay,” Virgil said, thinking. “That’s a start. Bluebird has access to basically every camera in the city. I’ll check any security cams that would have a view of roads coming in this direction and any that might have a view of the river.”

“And we should check for physical signs of vehicles at the base of the bridge,” Prince suggested.

Virgil nodded. He let Prince pick him up again to jump to the ground. That trip was more anxiety-inducing than the trip up, but he forced himself to recover quickly. 

Prince ended up being the one to scan through the camera footage on the computer Logan had in the Birdmobile of Death. Meanwhile, Virgil used his light manipulation powers to closely scan the ground around the base of the bridge and the surrounding areas. Prince joined him after about half an hour.

“I made a list of the vehicles and license plates that any cameras caught coming in this direction. Unfortunately there aren’t many cameras around here, so I had to use some footage of cars that could have come this way, but also may not have. I also jotted down any boats the cameras caught. There aren’t any views of this location, but there are some up and down the river.”

“Okay. I’ve searched all around here and found nothing.” Virgil said. 

He looked back up at the bridge with the secret shelter nested in it, trying not to think about the blood on the floor up there. 

“Of course…” he said after a long moment. “If I was coming to kidnap someone, I wouldn’t be parking here, especially since Bluebird went missing before or just at dusk.”

Virgil turned away from the river and cast his eyes across the landscape. It was unfortunately very dark, but he could still make out most of the area. He thought for a long moment. 

“If I was going to kidnap someone who was up there,” he said, glancing at the bridge, “and I wanted to surround him with the least chance of him seeing me… I’d park there.” He pointed. 

There was a group of trees and bushes across the main road. It was pretty much the only area close by with a lot of foliage. The trees and buses hid what was behind them from the road and more importantly from above. It spread out to the left and the right a bit, and probably would still be hard to see through in the light of day because of how dense the vegetation was.

Prince followed the direction he was pointing. “That would be a good place to hide a van,” he agreed.

They had to cross the small road together and walk down into a very overgrown ditch in order to get to the area Virgil had identified, but it was more than worth it, because the second Virgil shined a light across the area, they immediately saw tire tracks. Deep, obvious, tire tracks, because the ground had been just slightly wet. 

“Read me that list of cars,” Virgil said.

The tires were from a larger vehicle but didn’t really look large enough to be a truck. A van was their best guess, and lo and behold, there were only three vans that had passed by the cameras Prince had looked at. 

One of these vans had a “baby on board” sticker, which didn’t necessarily discount it as a vehicle for kidnapping superheroes, but Virgil and Prince decided to tentatively eliminate it for now. Of the two other vans, one had taken a one-way trip through the area and been caught leaving the area on a camera on the opposite side. The last van, however, had come into the area on one road and then left the same way it came, almost 2 hours later. The time it was missing from the cameras overlapped the time frame during which Bluebird had gone missing.

Both Prince and Virgil agreed: that van was the most suspicious. So Virgil got on Logan’s computer and carefully combed through the database of cameras to see exactly where it had gone. He eventually lost track of it near another, more abandoned area of town, but looking at the map, there weren’t many buildings there. There was just an old factory and some warehouses.

“At least it’s a direction,” Prince said.

Virgil nodded. “I’m suspicious of the factory,” he said. He typed the address of the old factory into a database of online sources for any recent mentions. “There’s a newspaper article about a company buying it a couple of years ago, but they haven’t done anything with it yet.” He glanced at Prince. “At least… nothing on paper.”

“Let’s check it out,” Prince said, and Virgil started the car.

~~~

The drive only took about 10 minutes. One good thing about Logan’s Birdmobile of Death was it was sleek, silent, and dark blue. It made sneaking up on things incredibly easy, especially in the dark. Still, they parked a good distance away from the factory to observe.

“A lot of guards for an abandoned factory,” Prince noted. 

He was right. They were a bit hard to spot, but there were a good number of people crawling around the outside of the factory, and Virgil could only assume more on the inside.

“Alright,” Virgil said. “I have a feeling this is the place.” 

He glanced at Prince. “Coming in with me?”

“Of course,” Prince said.

They got out of the car. 

“I’m going to put shadows around us,” Virgil warned before doing so, making their forms fade into the inky blackness of the night.

They were silent as they snuck closer to the factory. Virgil eyed the place, looking for weaknesses. He tugged Prince’s arm who noiselessly followed him around the side of the building. 

There was a smaller side entrance, though it was still guarded. Virgil eyed the guards and his hand went to his waist. He pulled out the electrified baton he’d taken earlier and pressed the button to make electricity spark. 

Instead of just the baton lighting up with electricity though, Virgil pushed, and electricity shot out of the tip straight towards the guards. They were down before they even knew they were hit.

Prince turned his head to look at him, clearly shocked. (God, Virgil spent too much time with Patton.) 

Virgil shrugged. “Works better than a normal taser.”

“That’s fucking terrifying,” Prince commented, but he didn’t seem too torn up over it. “We should check them for keycards.”

“I can just electricity-manipulate through any doors we need to get through,” Virgil said.

“Yeah, but they might have alarms for things like that,” Prince pointed out. He walked over to one of the unconscious guards and briefly rifled through their front pocket. 

“Found one,” he said. “Now, the only question is, are we doing this guns blazing or stealth?”

“Can you do stealth?” Virgil asked.

“Believe it or not,” Prince said, placing a hand over his heart, “stealth is my preferred method.”

“I don’t believe it, given your reputation,” Virgil said, “but okay. I’m better at stealth, so let’s do that.” 

He pulled his shadows closer to them again, and Prince swiped the keycard he’d grabbed at the door. The two of them slipped inside.

Luckily, there was no one directly inside the door, though Virgil could hear people moving and speaking a bit down the hall. Without a word, he and Prince decided to move in the opposite direction of the voices.

Despite the building looking very much like an abandoned factory from the outside, from the inside it didn’t look abandoned at all, or even really like a factory anymore. It looked like a cross between a military base and a hospital. The floor was metal, and their footsteps would be very loud if Virgil didn’t know how to use his shadows to muffle them. 

It was also fucking huge.

“Wandering around isn’t working,” Virgil breathed after listening and making sure he could hear no one around. “We need a computer, or a map or something.”

“I think we’re going to have to go towards the more populated areas,” Prince said back, just as quietly.

“You’re probably right,” Virgil agreed, gripping the baton.

Prince nodded questioningly at a hallway to the right that went deeper into the building. Virgil nodded once, and they walked that way.

They certainly were walking towards a more populated area, judging by the sounds of people speaking and moving around. They snuck closer and closer, and eventually found the nexus of the activity. 

They briefly peeked through the window of a door into a large open room filled with fancy computers, desks, and a bunch of people milling about. The door they were at was not the only one; there were many other doors leading out of the room.

“This place is a fucking maze,” Virgil whispered.

“If we could get to one of those computers, we could probably figure out where they’re keeping Bluebird,” Prince said.

“Yeah, but that’s fucking impossible,” Virgil replied. “They’re crawling all over it like wasps around a nest.”

“It’s not completely impossible,” Prince said, slowly.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, not that Prince could see it. “My shadows wouldn’t work in such a big, lit up area,” he pointed out.

“I can get you to that computer without anyone noticing,” Prince said.

“How exactly can you do that?” Virgil asked.

“You’re not the only one with fancy powers,” Prince said.

“What power related to superstrength is going to make it so no one sees me walk up to a computer and look up where they’re hiding a prisoner?” Virgil asked, taking one more glance into the room. Yep, still full of people.

“Not superstrength,” Prince said. “I have something else. Like I said, stealth is my preferred method. Trust me for this?”

Virgil considered him for a long moment, then nodded decisively.

“Alright,” said Prince. “Come stand at the door.” 

Virgil did and felt Prince move to stand behind him. The superhero took a slow breath and then reached out to touch Virgil’s shoulder. 

Virgil immediately felt something strange, though for some reason not entirely unfamiliar, wash over him. It was like… pineapple flavored jelly with bits of the fruit in it. Except Virgil wasn’t eating it, someone was rubbing it up and down his spine. And it was cold. He didn’t know where he would have felt something like it before, but it still scratched at Virgil’s memories. However, the intensity of the feeling was certainly new.

“Don’t move away from me,” Prince cautioned near his ear, “and be quiet.”

Virgil nodded and Prince pushed at his shoulder, using his grip to guide Virgil to the door. He opened it slowly, and no one turned to look at them. Virgil couldn’t help but be tense as they walked into the light, but no one seemed to pay them any mind.

They walked straight to the computer Prince had indicated before. One of the workers even looked at them briefly and then walked around them without even a flinch. It’s like they saw them, but then immediately threw that knowledge away. Virgil didn’t question it, at least not for now. They had a job to do, and Prince’s steady hand had led him up to the computer. Prince reached over to gently push the person who had been standing at it away, and she walked off to a different computer without comment.

Virgil turned to the computer now in front of him. The person had been logged into the system, which made this a lot easier. Still, finding things on an unfamiliar computer wasn’t simple. They didn’t exactly have a file named “map to prisoners”. 

He took a few minutes to search through the computer, anxiety weighing down on him heavier and heavier until he finally found one thing that could possibly indicate where they might be keeping a superhero.

He'd already found a map that was somewhat useful, but it wasn’t labeled with anything that told him where they might be keeping prisoners. It was all just numbers and letters with no key. 

However, he then found a live updating chart of the power usage throughout the facility, and one area was using way, way more power. Either they had a nuclear generator in here or they really wanted to keep someone with incredibly strong and precise telekinesis contained.

He brought up the map of the facility he’d stumbled across earlier and matched the label of the room with the highest power usage to the corresponding label on the map. He glanced back at Prince and pointed to the room. Prince nodded, and Virgil took a moment to commit the path they’d need to take, as well as a couple of alternate paths, to memory. Then, he closed everything he’d opened and shot a thumbs up to Prince.

Prince then slowly pulled him away from the computer. At the last moment, Virgil snagged the access card the woman who’d been standing there had left when Roman had pushed her away. Virgil pointed at one of the doors they hadn’t entered through, and Prince walked both of them out of the room hopefully with the correct destination in mind.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 7

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

[ayellowcurtain]

Can you possible write something about how one night after Robbe and Sander have sex Sander says his favorite part is making Robbe feel good and it makes Robbe think Sander doesn’t like what he does or he doesn’t make him feel good and he starts to feel insecure about how he Sander was the first person he was with and was completely inexperienced when they first started having sex? Then they have a conversation that results in a lot of kisses and Sander reassuring Robbe that he is perfect and makes him feel amazing.

Smut ahead!!!

Sander moves on the bed, stretching his legs after hours sleeping in the same position. The bed feels nice tonight, he opens his eyes just enough to understand it’s still dark out and Robbe is still sleeping behind him, so out of it Sander can feel his very slow breathing blowing the hair at the back of his head.

He smiles to himself and pushes the sheets down to his waist, rubbing his palm against his nose for good measurement that he’ll be as comfortable as possible to go back to his much needed sleep. Tonight is a good night, he thinks as he closes his eyes, letting his tiredness take over again. The last few seconds awake are very happy, reminding of the amazing night they shared, tangled together for hours, doing everything slow, holding for as long as they could so they wouldn’t have to stop feeling exhilarating, out of this world good any time soon. Sander can’t believe his luck, finding someone that matches him so perfectly.

It feels like a second later, and he feels the bed moving slowly, carefully. It feels nice when the sheets move against his naked skin, leaving him completely uncovered but it’s not cold, not too warm, just perfect. He tries to open his eyes when he realizes hands on his calves, moving him to the end of the bed. His legs are hanging down now, and slightly open. His body is quickly starting to get too warm, but it feels too good still, he feels his stomach tingling and suddenly he’s wide awake, moaning as he realizes in awe what’s happening.

He forces himself to prop his body on his elbows, meeting a still messy from sleep Robbe in the middle of his legs, slowly taking him completely. Sander almost passes out from the image, needing to lie down again, touching his whole body thoroughly until he finds Robbe’s soft hair, holding what he can not too tightly just so he can be sure this is really happening, it’s not another wet dream.

Nobody is home, thankfully, because Sander can’t find it in his half asleep brain the will to hold back his moans, calling for Robbe every few seconds because this boy will kill right this second. He’s so eager, so sloppy, and so fucking good Sander has to let go of his hair not to hurt his boyfriend. Robbe is clearly wanting to do this his way so Sander lets him. With his not too slow, not too fast pace, wanting to swallow every inch every single time and Sander will never complain about that.

Robbe’s hands run through all the way from his belly to his thighs, squeezing hard, pushing Sander up on the bed a little bit, making him arch his back, feeling all his skin get raw and sensible for a few seconds with the hard and perfect touch.

He thinks about telling Robbe about how fucking nice this feels but all the wires are messy in his brain and his thoughts don’t meet his open mouth, constantly making noises, small or big ones.

Since Robbe wants to go the sloopy and mind blowing route, Sander follows his lead with that, opening his legs as much as he can with no shame, and Robbe moans at that, scratching his thighs. Sander forces himself on one elbow again because this obscene moment has to be seen and saved. With the other hand he messes Robbe’s hair a little more, biting his lip when Robbe opens his mouth even wider.

Sander feels like he’s on the edge of passing out when he comes, a surprise for him and Robbe, washing over him all of a sudden after what it feels like a lifetime and not long enough. He’ll never forget the scene they both made in that position.

He smiles to himself, enjoying the high for as long as he can, only then realizing his hair sticking to his skin, to the back of his neck, the sheets almost as damp under him, and Robbe finally, finally climbs on the bed again, sitting on Sander’s stomach and he sighs, looking at his even messier boyfriend, with his tinted cheeks, his curls perfectly turning outwards in every angle.

The sunlight is managing to get inside through the crannies between the curtains, right behind Robbe, creating his aura around him, naked, sitting on Sander, a little bit shinny and blotchy, and as perfect as one can be. But when Sander really pays attention, he sees in Robbe’s eyes a hint of worry, and he pushes himself to sit up properly, not too quickly so Robbe won’t move away to sit somewhere else. Sander puts his arm around his boyfriend’s waist to keep him exactly where he is.

“What’s wrong, Robbe?”

-

Robbe checks with himself again. It feels nice, amazing. There are very few things he likes more than to be this intimate with Sander. To feel him give himself completely to Robbe. For so long he wanted to feel this peace of mind, this feeling of home in someone who would love and take care of him. And he found it. He was more than lucky enough to find all of it in one person.

But he can’t stop thinking about what Sander said yesterday, and the tone he used. He likes taking care of Robbe a little too much. Not only when they’re having sex. He’s always the one on the lead for everything. Decide what they’ll do, what they’ll eat, what movie they should watch. And Robbe never thinks about it too much because, again, he likes letting go and having someone he can trust blindly to know everything he can ever want. It feels so extremely nice to finally not have to worry Robbe could really cry thinking about it.

But in moments as intimate as sex, Robbe starts to worry Sander is only taking the lead because Robbe is not as good at it as Sander is. Maybe he makes the wrong decisions, or does things in a way that makes Sander prefer to make the calls instead of letting Robbe do so.

“I want a brutally honest answer.”

Sander frowns, completely caught off guard, and Robbe pays attention to that one hair strand that’s peaking from behind Sander’s neck and he focuses on that, trying to put it back in place as he asks, “Who was the best sex of your life?”

He only looks at Sander at the very last second, feeling all his insecurities shout at him for ever bringing this up, ready to put a fake smile when Sander tries to change the subject not to say it wasn’t Robbe.

“What kind of question is that? I thought it was pretty clear…”

“That’s not an answer.” Robbe tries to laugh it off shyly, and Sander doesn’t buy it, and Robbe hates how he can see through everything. His boyfriend adjusts his posture so he can pull Robbe even closer.

“Robbe.”

“It’s just one question. I won’t be upset, I promise.”

“Robbe. There’s nothing to be upset about.” Sander looks up at him with those puppy eyes. “It’s you. I feel even ashamed at how fast I come because I look like a dumb teenager that can’t hold it for a second. I have to hold myself back so much to not come the second I see you naked.”

Robbe snorts quietly, making himself smaller to hug Sander like a koala, nuzzling into his neck.

“Why is that even a question?”

He doesn’t answer because he doesn’t want his insecurities to awaken Sander’s too. Sander waits patiently, and Robbe for once wishes Sander would change the subject like he does when they’re trying to have a serious conversation. But he doesn’t deflect this time. He waits in silence and Robbe decides to get it over with already.

“Yesterday you said how much you like making me feel good…I thought maybe it was your way of trying to tell me I’m not as experienced, or as...skilled as you are.”

Sander frowns even deeper, and snorts, and that combo is the biggest sign that Robbe just said the dumbest things, making himself look even more insecure and like a baby.

“You’re acting like I know what I’m doing…” Sander smiles thoughtfully, and Robbe tilts his head, resting his forehead against his boyfriend’s. “I never had sex with a guy before you. Or anything at all, actually.”

Robbe tries to find the right words to put his thoughts out. “But still. You had a girlfriend, you had sex, you went out and made out with people…”

Sander rolls his eyes, turning them around in one motion, putting Robbe back on the bed, with Sander lying in between his legs.

“I had one girlfriend, and I made out with a bunch of strangers when I was basically a baby before meeting Britt. It’s not the same.”

“It’s still experience.” Robbe whispers, trying to justify his thoughts.

“I promise, it makes very little difference when you’re about to be with the person you love. I got just as anxious, as nervous, as insecure as you did, I’m sure.” Sander kisses his jaw, still staring right back at Robbe’s eyes. “It doesn’t help that you were mad at me, thinking I was back with Britt. I was so nervous I thought you would feel how my hands were shaking while we were in that elevator to go to the flat.”

“I was busy with other things during that minute…”

Sander snorts, kissing him again, his hand gently caressing Robbe’s cheek.

“When I say nothing ever felt like this before I mean everything. The feelings, the love, the ‘my brain can only see, think, talk, and listen to Robbe’, the hormones…”

Robbe smiles, feeling his insecurities slowly turn into dust inside his brain to give it more space to think, see, and hear Sander.

“And I promise you...this was the best blowjob of my life.” Sander lifts his eyebrows and Robbe shakes his head, looking to the side to hide his face a little bit on the pillow, purring when Sander relaxes on top of him, holding him in that way that makes Robbe feel so secure, kissing his whole face, promising the world to Robbe, to them.

[space-helen]

Back To Vegas - Chapter 4

Words: 1948

Pairing: Nick Stokes x reader

A/N: Case is unfolding now!! I promise there’ll be more Nick and Reader moments in the next chapter

CH1     CH2      CH3     CH4    CH5   CH6   CH7   CH8

______________________

“Y/N?” You looked up from the evidence gathered at Hallie’s house that was out on the table.

“Greg?”

“New DB just came in. Want to join me?” he questioned stepping into the room. 

You looked at Grissom opposite you and he gestured towards Greg “Go. I’ll be ok with this. Catherine will be back in a second anyway.”

You stood and began to leave, Greg leading the way. “You wanna drive?”

“Uhh I think you should. I still don’t know Vegas that well.”

The man laughed “You’ll get to know it soon enough. I’m surprised Nick hasn’t taken you on a tour yet.” 

You got into the car with the man “Well we haven’t exactly had the time yet.”

“I was going to ask Nick if he wanted to come hiking soon and you’re more than welcome to join to.” The man started the engine.

“I’ll ask him later. Thank you”

“My pleasure. So Y/N tell me what sort of stuff are you into?”

The entire car ride was spent talking about your hobbies and getting to know the man, allowing him to talk about the history of Vegas and his friendship with Nick.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make too much of an effort to get to know you. Or come and see you and Nick. I was actually kind of nervous. I knew you were a big part of his life and I didn’t want to scare you away or something.”

“Don’t apologise or worry about it. It would have been nice to get to know you sooner, don't get me wrong. But you and Nick were always calling each other so I feel like I know you anyway.”

“Same to you. He spoke about you a lot, you know. Still does.”

You rolled your eyes “As much as I love the man can we move away from the relationship talk? I feel like I’ve been grilled and questioned by everyone about it.”

“Alright. No relationship talk.” The man pulled into the drive of a house. The police presence around the house was instantly noticeable.

“High profile?” 

The man shrugged “I don’t think so.”

The two of you got out of the vehicle and grabbed your kits, quickly moving towards the house.

“Why so many officers?” you questioned an older looking man by the front door.

“The body is fresh. Found by his kid. He was a professor and writer. The kid said he saw a woman leaving.”

You thanked the man and entered the house, Greg right behind you. The two of you saw a teenager in the corridor with a detective “Hi.” you greeted them.

“Sanders and?” the detective enquired.

“Y/L/N” you replied and stretched out your hand. 

He shook it “Wentz” The man turned to the teenager “This is Steff Nichols, Mr Nichols, the vic’s, son.” He turned to the man “Tell them what you saw.”

Steff fidgeted “I came home from tutoring early and shouted for my Dad. I knew he was in, he never leaves on a Thursday night. He has to be home to watch his favourite show. I didn’t hear a response so I looked for him and came to his room and found him on his bed grasping at his chest. I went to run for my bag and cell phone and saw that someone was running down our drive I didn’t chase her I called nine one one and went to try help him.” he was visibly upset.

“Don’t feel bad you did the right thing.” you re-assured “Have you given Detective Wentz a description of what she looked like?”

He nodded “The best I could.”

“Did you touch anything in the room?” Greg asked from beside you.

“No. My focus was on Dad and… he was gone by the time help got here.”

“Did they touch anything?” Greg asked.

“Nothing. Just the father” Wentz replied.

The two of you nodded. “Stay with the detective alright?” Greg told the kid as the two of you continued down the corridor to the room his father lay.

The room was large and the man lay on the floor next to his bed, far from the door. You took a picture as soon as you entered the room. You slowly approached the body and took more as Greg fell into step with you.

Something caught Gregs eye as he approached the opposite nightstand. “Y/N look” he pointed at a vial on the nightstand as he began to rush out of the room “I’ll ask if they left anything.”

You took a picture of the vial before placing your kit down and picking up the vial. Greg was back with you within seconds “They didn’t even take anything out of their packs. Anything they did was over by the body.”

You read the label and passed it to Greg who now had an open evidence bag. “Potassium.” He sealed the bag and read it through the plastic. 

“These cases are more intertwined than we thought.”

“Is it ok if I call Nick? He said that his vic looked like they OD’d but maybe it was something connected to this? Can you call David to check for puncture marks on Hallie?”

He nodded “You call Nick.” Greg brought his phone out of his pocket and walked to the otherside of the room to make his call. Slipping out your phone you quickly called Nick.

“Everything ok?” Nick’s voice was curious

“Yeah.” you pushed some stray hairs back “I’m with Greg with the new DB. We found a vial of potassium here. I know you said your case looked like a general overdose in a motel but be sure to check for Potassium in her bloodstream. We’ll explain more later.”

“Sure, sure. Ours vic had a pretty big concoction of drugs in her stream. We initially thought she was a long time user but she wasn’t at all. I’ll check again for potassium.”

“Thanks Nicky. I’m just finishing this scene and we’ll be back to properly fill you in”

“No problem Darlin’. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit. Love you.”

“I love you too.” 

With that you hung up the call and turned back around, Greg stood on the other side of the room with a smirk on his face and arms crossed around his chest. “Love you Nicky.” he teased.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face “What? Are you jealous Greggo?”

“Don’t you dare.” he laughed “Let’s get back to the scene shall we?”

You composed yourself “Sure.”

The two of you collected the evidence efficiently and effectively and were soon walking back to the car. Bringing out your phone you checked your messages “Nick says there was potassium in his vic.”

“Right. David said he found puncture marks in Hallie too. This calls for a proper meeting.” Greg slid into the driver’s seat and brought out his phone. He began to frantically tap the screen before locking it and putting it away.

Just as he put it down your phone vibrated and you pulled it out.

“It’s only me.”

You read the text on the screen calling for a team meeting upon your return. 

“I’ll drop the evidence off ready to be properly processed then make my way over to the meeting.” you pulled your seatbelt across as he pulled away from the scene.

“Did Nick tell you about that time he left evidence in his car and-”

“Yeah.” you laughed “He gets pretty embarrassed about it.”

“I would too. It was a rough day.”

“When he told me the story I instantly got second hand embarrassment and it lives in my head rent free now. I’ll never leave evidence in a car.”

The journey was quick and you both leaped out the car. Greg chucked you his keys before rushing inside. You grabbed all of the evidence from the trunk and locked up before following Gregs footsteps inside. 

You quickly dropped off the evidence and hurried to the breakout room. Greg was straight ahead of you at the back centre of the room as you entered. Slipping inside you stood by the door next to Sara.

“I’ve called you here because it looks like all of our cases are linked. Each of them are all linked with a potassium overdose or elevated levels in their stream. Y/N and I just got back from a scene where an older man, a professor and writer was found having a heart attack by his son and he saw a woman fleeing the scene but stayed to help his dad.”

Greg paused and looked around the room before continuing. “We need to find the link between these cases. We’ll all be working together from now on. I want the teams to review all evidence from now on. Finish whatever you were doing and come join Y/N and I with your evidence.”

The group split up and you were soon falling into step with Greg. You spread the evidence out across the table and began to upload the crime scene photos before joining Greg back at the table.

Nick was the first to join you. He placed a box of evidence down on the table and stood beside you. Sara and Grissom were quick on his heels with more boxes. Nick’s hand settled on the small of your back as he leaned forward and used his free hand to sift through some evidence.

Sara got to work looking through all of the crime scene photos and Catherine was soon coming into the room with armfull’s of paperwork.

The team worked effortlessly together. Looking through evidence and moving around the room smoothly, lending knowledge effectively and researching as appropriate.

You pulled out the picture strip found on Hallie and looked over the faces with her in the booth. “This face is familiar.” you showed Greg next to you.

He took the strip from your hands “That’s Shana. The first vic. The teacher.” He held up the strip to the room “We’ve found out first link. Find out how they know each other.”

Catherine took the strip from Greg “On it.”

People began to leave the room, finding new clues and going to research them Greg had to excuse himself to take a call but he was soon returning.

“Sara, Y/N.”

“Yep.”

“New Dead body for you both. Could be connected.”

The two of you were soon leaving. “I never thought something like this would be my first case in Vegas.” you admitted to Sara.

“Vegas is different.” Sara laughed “It’s thrown us all straight into the deep end.”

“You can say that again.” 

The scene was a small nicely furnished home. It wasn’t high end but not low end either. The surrounding houses were full of families. The victim was Tessa Spencer, a woman in her 30s found dead in her living room by her brother. Sara and you processed the scene swiftly.

“Do you have any idea who could have done this? Did she have any enemies?” Sara questioned Tessa’s brother, Julian.

“A lot of people liked her. She was a really good person.”

“I know but you really need to think for us. Is there anyone who would want to see her hurt?”

He sighed. “I know she had a disagreement with our cousin last week. She mentioned it over the phone. The two have never really got on. She’s definitely spiralled over the years.”

“Would you say your cousin is capable of murder?”

“Yeah. Most definitely. They were on trial a couple of years ago”

“Who?”

“Hannah West”

Sara’s head snapped to Julian “I beg your pardon.”

Next Chapter

Tag List: (open)

CSI:

Nick Stokes: @wanniiieeee​  @pumpkinfriend

[lovelylogans]

the words you read (my heart’s been displayed)

how did you know 'cause I never told but you found out I've got a crush on you the words you read, my heart's been displayed you found out I've got a crush on you —“crush on you,” the jets

warnings: awkward clueless teenagers, crushes, slightly overbearing matchmaking uncles, mentions of government surveillance, mostly fluff, please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairing: virgil/logan, secondary patton/roman and janus/remus

word count: 5,761

notes: this is for day 5 of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “vocab card/skateboard” and i have decided to write about vocab card! please enjoy!

⁂

In Virgil’s opinion, Logan Sanders is the cutest boy in all of the sophomore grade.

He was the cutest boy in freshman year, too, and eighth grade, and seventh, and all the way back to kindergarten, but Logan’s changed over the summer. 

He’s sprouted up a few inches, so now he’s a half-head taller than Virgil. He still looks a little gangly, like he’s going to grow more. He’d always been shorter than Virgil before. He’d gotten new glasses, too, black frames that suit him way better than the silver ovals he’d used when they were little. His voice has gotten a bit deeper, his jawline’s gotten stronger, and Virgil’s helpless crush on him has only grown with Logan.

Logan isn’t just cute, either, he’s smart. He carries around stacks of notecards, blank and filled in, and there’s all sorts of things written on it—interesting fun facts and the latest slang terms, in rubber-banded stacks next to rubber-banded stacks of notecards of terms that will be on their next exam. Logan has a way of explaining anything and everything in a way that is really understandable and never makes you feel dumb. Logan’s always top of the class.

And to make matters worse, they’re next-door-locker-neighbors this year, because Chloe-who-was-between-them-alphabetically moved away. Which means that Virgil cannot quite get away with admiring Logan from afar, the way he has since they were little. Which means that when school starts, on the first day when Logan asks him what homeroom he’s in this year, Virgil’s brain can only go ahhhhHHHHHH and the fact that oh my God Logan is tall now oh my GOD Logan has the locker next to mine now! makes him delay his answer because he’s just staring at Logan, and Logan looks at him a little oddly and then repeats his question as if he thinks Virgil didn’t hear him, and Virgil kind of wants to crawl into his locker to hide there forever thanks.

“Oh,” he manages. He closes his locker. “Um. I’m in Mr. Morales’ homeroom this year.”

Logan smiles at him. Logan SMILES AT HIM. And then he says, “I am, as well. Perhaps we’ll be seated next to each other in homeroom, in addition to being locker neighbors. I would enjoy that.”

He would ENJOY THAT!!!!!

Logan clears his throat and fiddles with his glasses, finally just pushing them a little further up his nose, even though they’re pretty high up on his nose already. “Would you like to walk together to Mr. Morales’ classroom? I was in his home economics class last year, I know where it is.”

“Um, sure,” Virgil says, voice cracking embarrassingly, and he considers opening his locker back up again so that he can hide there. He’s pretty skinny, he might be able to fit.

So they walk to Mr. Morales’ classroom. Logan’s the one talking, mostly; Virgil’s grateful for that, because he’d probably just be rambling nervously the whole time, and it’d be tempting fate to have his voice crack in front of Logan again. But now he can just listen to Logan’s various opinions about their summer reading for their English class, which is much safer. He sure has a lot of opinions about it, which makes Virgil sweat a little nervously—Logan sounds like he’s ready to sit down and write an essay about it, as if they’re going to have to, and Virgil’s pretty sure that if he sat down to take a multiple-choice quiz about that book right now he’d flunk it.

They end up not being assigned to sit next to each other. Mr. Morales says to just sit wherever, since they’re all going to go to an assembly once he takes attendance anyways, and that he probably won’t assign seats for the whole year.

And then Logan ends up sitting next to him anyways.

Like he really meant that he’d like to be next to Virgil in homeroom.

Mr. Morales smiles at them, and then, inexplicably, gives Logan a double thumbs up? And then Logan’s cheeks go kind of red? Logan turns his face away from Mr. Morales, turning to more fully face Virgil.

“You were in his class last year, right?” Virgil says.

“Erm, yeah. Yes. I was.” Logan clears his throat, turning away from him. “He supervises my study hall, too.” Then he mumbles, “also he’s my uncle.”

“He’s your uncle?” Virgil repeats. This is news to him.

“Through marriage,” Logan explains. “Mr. Regnant is my father’s brother.”

Mr. Regnant is the arts-and-music teacher, and, though they don’t talk about it very much (students do, but then, students always gossip), Mr. Morales’ husband.

Mr. Regnant is also, not that Virgil would ever tell him so, Virgil’s favorite teacher.

“Which dad?” Virgil says, because Logan’s two dads were basically his only version of real-life gay representation when they were really little. He knows Mr. Sanders better than Logan’s other dad. 

Mr. Sanders always volunteered to be part of the PTA moms who supervised them during holiday parties and field trips, though, looking back, he doesn’t think the PTA moms liked him very much. The kids, on the other hand, loved Mr. Sanders, who would treat them like very short adults and once a year would bring in his mamba Eve for kids to pet and hold.

Logan’s other Dad had been the one who encouraged the kids to throw paints and roll around in the mud and tear things up. Logan’s other Dad had come to supervise one holiday party and was politely asked to never do so again.

“Not Pa—I mean, Janus,” Logan says, looking briefly embarrassed. “He’s Dad’s—Remus’—twin brother.”

Virgil makes an “ohhh” sound, because that makes sense. Now he’s thinking about it, Mr. Regnant and Logan’s dad really do look alike, if one looked past their contrasting senses of style. 

“That’s cool, though,” Virgil says thoughtfully. “That you’re related, I mean. Mr. Morales is really nice.”

“Yes, he is,” Logan says. “It’s been a bit strange to adjust to calling him Mr. Morales instead of Uncle Patton, though.”

“Yeah, I guess it probably would be,” Virgil says. 

The bell rings, and Mr. Morales ushers them off to the assembly.

Logan sits down next to him on the bleachers at the assembly, too. Their knees bump together as they listen to the principal welcome them back from summer vacation and give some announcements.

And Logan keeps sitting down next to him.

At lunch, in their two shared classes, in homeroom. He wishes Virgil a good morning and good afternoon every day at their locker. As the months of the school year slowly creep by, Virgil definitely does kind of feel like crawling into his locker, sometimes, but less and less so, because.

Because he and Logan are kind of friends now.

Logan asks him about his favorite hot beverage and then starts bringing him chai when he and his uncles stop by a café before school. Virgil sketches out drawings of astronauts and space when Logan goes on a loving tirade about it that lasts, on-and-off, for a week. 

He still definitely has a crush on Logan. His increased presence near him is both a blessing and a curse.

They share earbuds and laugh at videos in homeroom, they sit quietly side-by-side and do their homework together in study hall. Virgil even tags along, sometimes, when Logan takes time out of his day to visit his uncles. His uncles always seem delighted whenever Virgil drops by, which Virgil guesses makes sense—Mr. Morales is just kind of Like That, and he’s been taking classes with Mr. Regnant since freshman year, and they’ve been sassing at each other for just about as long.

Logan makes those visits rare, though. He always seems a little self-conscious about how excited his uncles are during their visits, the way they elbow Logan and give him thumbs-ups and wiggle their eyebrows. Virgil doesn’t really get it—he thinks it’s nice that his uncles are so excited to see Logan with his friend.

But then his mom unexpectedly comes by and drops off his lunch and ruffles Virgil’s hair right in front of Logan, and Virgil spends the rest of the day going beet red even Logan assures him that it’s okay and he thinks it’s nice, something in his brain... clicks. A little bit. Even though it doesn’t make sense.

Does Logan...?

No, his brain tells him. There’s no way.

But Virgil keeps an eye out for the next week anyways.

On Monday, Logan’s uncles give him a ride to school and also drive him by the café, so Logan hands over a chai for Virgil. Virgil smiles and thanks him.

Have Logan’s ears always gone red whenever Virgil thanks him for bringing him tea?

On Tuesday, their fingers brush when Logan’s passing over a stack of notecards for Virgil to study for an upcoming exam during their study hall. Simultaneously, they look away from each other, redirecting their attention to their textbooks.

Have they always done that?

On Wednesday, Logan and Virgil swing by Mr. Morales’ classroom. After Virgil laughs at a somewhat sarcastic comment that Logan says, and redirects his attention to the sketch he’s been doing to turn in for approval for his end-of-semester art project, he peeks through his bangs to see Mr. Morales waving his hands eagerly, and Logan go red and gesture sharply for him to stop.

Has Mr. Morales always been so excited whenever he and Logan spend time in his classroom?

On Thursday, Logan seems chilled by the overenthusiastic air conditioning, so Virgil gives him a spare hoodie he had in his locker. Logan looks at him, looks away, and then proceeds to huddle in Virgil’s hoodie for the rest of the day, even after the school adjusts the temperature and it isn’t quite so cold.

By then, his brain saying no way! No way, you cannot afford to be wrong on this so you aren’t even going to try, there’s no way—

It’s after school on Thursday, and Virgil makes sure Logan has already gone home when he descends the stairs to Mr. Regnant’s art-and-music studio.

“Oh, Virgil, hey,” Mr. Regnant says, distracted, looking up from the sheet music he’s laying out across four desks. “Gimme a second, I’ve got the feedback for your sketch on my desk somewhere—”

Virgil looks to Mr. Regnant’s desk. He can’t even see the mug of pens on his desk that Virgil knows is there, it’s so buried in papers and models and paint palette piles. It’s like an avalanche waiting to happen.

“Uh, that’s not—you can give it to me tomorrow,” Virgil says awkwardly. “Um. That’s not why I’m here.”

Mr. Regnant blinks at him. “All right.”

“I,” he wipes his hands on his jeans and grimaces, not quite believing that he’s about to do this. “I need advice.”

Mr. Regnant pauses, before he manages to find an empty desk and sets down the sheet music. “Okay.”

“Before I say anything,” he says. “I need you to give me this advice as Mr. Regnant, faculty supervisor of the GSA club.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Regnant says. “Yeah, ‘course, Virgil. I’m always—”

“Mr. Regnant, faculty supervisor of the GSA club, is a separate person from Mr. Regnant, Logan’s Uncle Roman,” Virgil interrupts, twisting his fingers together anxiously. “Right?”

Mr. Regnant opens his mouth. Closes it. He gestures for Virgil to sit on one of the choir risers, settling there himself, but Virgil sits on the floor. This is a time in which floor-sitting is necessary.

“He could be,” Mr. Regnant says eventually.

“Well I need him to be,” Virgil snaps. “Okay?”

Mr. Regnant presses his lips together and nods.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little higher pitched. His lips twitch and he clears his throat. “Yeah! Yeah.”

“Oh my God, you’re about to laugh at me,” Virgil says, horrified. “I knew this was a terrible idea, forget it—”

“No!” Mr. Regnant says hastily. “No I’m not, no I’m not. I swear I’m not. Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA is not about to laugh.”

“Is Mr. Regnant Logan’s uncle about to laugh?!”

“I thought they were different people,” Mr. Regnant sasses back, seemingly on instinct, and Virgil buries his face in his hands and screams a little bit. Just a little bit.

“Shi—shoot, I mean shoot!” He says, and tugs lightly at Virgil’s arm. Virgil peeks at Mr. Regnant from between his fingers.

Mr. Regnant’s face is very serious. There is no more sign of lip-twitching, throat-clearing, or mirth in his eyes.

“Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA is here and listening,” he says. “Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA does not have any relatives to speak of. Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA does not have any twin brothers or nephews. What on earth even are those? Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA would have no idea. Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA doesn’t even have parents, or a husband, that’s how absolutely relative-less he is. Okay?”

“Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA is an asshole,” Virgil mutters.

“Faculty supervisor of the GSA is starting to not sound like words anymore,” Mr. Regnant says, “also, you are so lucky school is technically over, otherwise I would have totally given you a detention for language.”

“You’re such a hypocrite, you literally just almost swore.”

“Almost,” Mr. Regnant says, “is not the same as did. Now. What can I do for you, Virgil?”

Virgil takes a deep breath in.

“What do you do if you think the boy you have a crush on likes you back?”

Mr. Regnant’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, but otherwise, he doesn’t react.

“You could talk to him?”

“Okay, maybe I should be more specific,” Virgil says, “What do you do if you have an anxiety disorder, and you think the boy you have a crush on likes you back?”

“I know you’re not gonna like this,” Mr. Regnant says, “but my answer is still you could talk to him.” 

He holds up a hand before Virgil can protest. “I know it can be scary, I know it can be anxiety-inducing. I know that can be a deterrent for a perfectly neurotypical person, let alone someone who’s got a diagnosed anxiety disorder. But, I mean. Your only options, as I see them, are, A, tell him, or B, sit quietly and wait for him to maybe make the first move.”

“But how can I be sure?” He says.

“Well, why do you think he likes you back?” Mr. Regnant says reasonably.

So Virgil tells him. Virgil tells him all about it—thinking he was cute since they were kids, then suddenly becoming friends this year: the chai, the sketches, the music listening, the blushing and the awkward chats, and how they’re friends now but Virgil still really likes him in a romantic way.

“Does that sound like he likes me back?” he asks anxiously. 

Mr. Regnant bites his lip. “As the faculty supervisor of the GSA? I think it could definitely be likely.”

“Likely?” Virgil wails.

“Well, as the faculty supervisor of the GSA,” Mr. Regnant enunciates carefully, “I can’t be certain.”

“I can’t go and tell him based on if it’s just likely! I need to be sure he likes me back or else there’s a chance he says he doesn’t like me and then I’m going to have a heart attack and die!”

“Virgil! As the faculty supervisor of the GSA! I really think you should go for it!”

Mr. Regnant looks like he’s about to reach out and start shaking Virgil by the shoulders. His eyes are huge, the way he always looks at actors onstage who have forgotten their lines, like by just staring at them he’ll be able to psychically impart the script to them.

“Forget it,” Virgil groans and reaches for his backpack, swinging it over his shoulders and standing up. “I’m doomed to suffer in silence. Thanks, I guess, I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Please don’t tell anyone I told you all this.”

As Virgil is closing the classroom door behind him, he’s pretty sure he hears Mr. Regnant screeching.

Honestly, Virgil should be the one screeching. He can’t believe he just told him all that—who knows if Mr. Regnant will be able to keep the information of a crush concerning his nephew to himself?!

⁂

“Okay, here’s your mocha-with-extra-espresso, please don’t tell your Dads,” Uncle Patton says cheerfully, passing back a to-go cup to Logan. “And the chai! I think it’s very sweet that you keep getting this for him, kiddo.”

“Gestures are a good way to express affection,” Logan says anxiously, carefully setting the chai in a cupholder. “I’ve been trying to vary my approaches based off the five love languages. I’m not sure if it’s working.”

Uncle Roman in the passenger seat, his arm thrown over his eyes, makes a sound of great discontent, the way he’s been doing for the past week whenever Uncle Patton has tried to give him any advice concerning Virgil.

“Are you okay, Uncle Roman?” Logan asks again.

“Thinking about being the faculty supervisor to the GSA,” Uncle Roman moans, as if in pain.

“Is the club schedule about to be particularly busy?” Logan asks, frowning. “You typically enjoy your work with the GSA.”

“You could say that,” Uncle Roman says tightly, then groans again.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do personally, in order to relieve any undue stress,” Logan begins, but is cut off by Uncle Roman shrieking.

“Um,” Logan says, looking to Uncle Patton, who snorts, shaking his head.

“He just, um,” Uncle Patton says. “Well, I think something’s happened, except he told me he can’t tell me what it is without betraying someone’s trust, so.”

“I see,” Logan says, frowning, except for the part where he doesn’t see, really. But that happens fairly frequently with Papa and Dad. Honestly, it’s rather curious that Uncle Roman has not acted in a way that seems strange to outsiders. Dad does it all the time, and they’re twins.

Oh, well. He’s sure he’ll understand eventually.

“I’m fine,” Uncle Roman says, and he sniffs loudly. “I’m fine, it’s all—fine.”

Uncle Patton pats his hand sympathetically, before directing their car to school.

Logan sips his drink, before he says idly, “I think I’m going to tell him I’ve had a crush him today.”

Uncle Roman immediately spews coffee onto the windshield in an impressive spit-take. It is hilarious. Even though Uncle Roman is choking a little. 

Uncle Patton meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, his eyes bright with excitement. “Really?!”

“Really,” Logan confirms. “I mean, it’s been—it’s been a couple months. We are friendly enough. I do not think that Virgil will discard our friendship if I confess that I have had a crush on him since last year.”

“Well!” Uncle Patton says, so flustered that he accidentally turns on the windshield wipers when he means to signal a turn, and then when he tries to fix that he turns on his hazard lights, before he manages to get the car under control again. “Well, that’s great, kiddo! I’m so excited for you!”

“You are the smartest kid I know,” Uncle Roman says, turning in his seat to face Logan, his expression near-worshipful. “I love you.”

“Um. Thank you?”

“I know you don’t believe in psychics, but are you—?”

“Why are you bringing up psychics?” Logan says, perplexed. “I figured—well, I’ll tell him. And it is time that the Halloween festival will begin this weekend. That seems like a date that Virgil would enjoy.”

“Right,” Uncle Roman says. “Okay. Well—go for it! Please go for it!”

“I have already told you I will,” he says. 

“I think it’s gonna go great if you go for it!”

Strange. Uncle Roman is acting as if he has had too much caffeine. As far as Logan is aware, the beverage they have just stopped to get is his first coffee of the day, and he does not metabolize the effects of coffee that quickly.

“Right,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses and taking a sip of his coffee. Then, “Right.”

Then, “What if he says he doesn’t like me back?”

Uncle Roman throws his arm across his eyes and makes that same groaning sound again.

Uncle Patton absentmindedly reaches over and bracingly rubs Uncle Roman’s thigh, again meeting Logan’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Well, kiddo, if he says he doesn’t like you back,” he says, then frowns. “It’s understandable to be disappointed, or a little bit upset, but it’s important to accept his answer graciously and kindly. No means no. No is a full sentence. But Virgil seems like a very nice boy, I can’t imagine he’ll be very mean about it at all, and you two have gotten close over the past few months. It might be kind of awkward for a bit, but with a little work, your friendship will be able to survive it.”

“I suppose,” Logan says quietly, looking down at his lap.

“But,” Uncle Patton adds hastily, “I think the chances are really good for him saying yes to the date! We both do, don’t we, Roman?”

Uncle Roman lets out a very strangled “mm-hmm.”

Logan chews his lip, before he says timidly, “Can I borrow one of your phones to call my Dads?”

“Cupholder, just a bit in front of ya,” Patton says cheerfully. “You already know the password.”

Logan does. He swipes it in—his uncles’ wedding date—and presses on Papa’s contact number. Dad’s phone is lost more often than not, and almost always turns up in strange places, like inside the gateau he’d tried to make, or inside the neighbor’s rain gutters.

His father picks it up almost immediately.

“Patton, if this is about the adopt-a-thon, if I have told you once I have told you a thousand times—”

“Um, hi, Papa,” Logan says awkwardly; he does not want to get into the family squabble about sharing a pet between their households again. Eve is a sufficient pet, even if she’s not as cuddly as Uncle Patton might like.

His father’s voice transforms from chiding to concerned in a second. “Logan, is everything all right?”

“Yes, everyone is operating under adequate parameters,” Logan says. “Is Dad there?”

There’s the sound of something crashing in the background, as if on cue. Knowing Dad, it might have been.

“I’ll get him,” Papa says wearily.

He hears his Papa say Remus, our son is on the phone, please put down the—Uh, Jan, sexy-pie! I thought you were! On the way to work!—what the—REMUS, we’ve TALKED about this, how did you lay hands on a HERON—and then the conversation gets a good deal more muffled. He is pretty sure that Papa is shouting at Dad about capturing local wildlife again.

He waits patiently, before he hears the clatter of the phone being passed into someone’s hands, and Dad asks, “Did someone die?! Do you need help covering up a murder?!”

“Remus, please,” Papa groans, “the boy is too smart to implicate himself by opening the opportunity to be recorded over the phone lines.”

“That’s right, Logie-bear, the government is always watching,” Dad says solemnly. “Big brother, all hail. Also lean over and give my little brother a wet-willie for me, it’d be so funny—”

Logan, accustomed to conversations of this tone since birth, continues stolidly onward. “I’m going to tell Virgil I like him today.”

“Finally!” Dad hoots.

“That’s excellent, Logan,” Papa says placidly. “Please know that I am fully aware of the misogynistic roots of the what are your intentions discussion, and I’ve been doing research in order to make our version as feminist as possible. Also, your father has been warned to discuss minimal amounts of gore when he comes to our home.”

“What is the point of a shovel talk then!”

“We already agreed no shovel talk,” Papa says irritably. “When we threaten the boy, we’ll do it subtly.”

“Please don’t threaten him,” Logan says anxiously. “I don’t even know if he likes me back yet.”

“Of course he likes you back!” Dad says, outraged on his behalf. “Why the hell wouldn’t he like you back?!”

“How did you two know that you loved each other?” Logan asks. The question feels slightly childish, and he feels even more so when he curls up in his car seat, but he cannot deny the posture brings a certain level of comfort.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“We’ll tell you when you’re older,” Papa says.

“I’m sixteen in a matter of weeks!”

Dad makes an absurd gagging noise, because he is ridiculously averse to the concept of Logan (and therefore, himself and Papa) aging. Logan thinks that it might have to do with a latent existential crisis, but he has not asked, because knowing Dad, he will spin it out into thirteen separate absurd reasons, and ten of them will make Logan cringe away, repulsed.

“Trust my judgment on this,” Papa says. “You do not want to know the origins of how our romance developed. However, when we actually had the discussion concerning feelings, your father—”

“I wrote him a beautiful letter in my best calligraphy,” Dad says proudly, then, “You probably don’t want to hear about the ink, do you?”

“Is it disgusting?” Logan asks warily.

“Quite, but,” then, in a voice that literally every other person wouldn’t realize is Papa’s version of profound sappiness, “that’s your father.” 

There is the sound of kissing. Logan resists the urge to make a gagging noise of his own, because somehow, he is the mature one in the entire family.

“As it is, just,” Papa says, then sighs. “I cannot believe I am about to give such... Pattonish advice. But. As it is, just be yourself. If this boy likes you back—”

“—as he should, and if he doesn’t he’s in desperate need of a lobotomy,” Dad mutters.

“—then he will like you for you, just the way you are,” Papa says, as if Dad had not said anything remotely worrying. “Tap into your strengths, Logan. You are intelligent, and observant, and thoughtful—”

“—and the best son there is—”

“Well, that goes without saying, clearly,” Papa says. “As long as your confession comes from you, then there is no way that it can go wrong. You are simply too excellent a person for it not to.”

“Even if it turns out he doesn’t like me?” Logan says timidly.

“If it does, then have your uncle forge an excuse note for you to get out of school early today and we’ll plot accordingly,” Papa says evasively. “But I do not think that outcome likely.”

Logan chews his lip. Papa is the best liar he knows, but—

But hearing his encouragement is too comforting to really analyze if he is lying.

“Thanks, Dads.”

“Knock him dead, kid!” Dad shouts. “And if he doesn’t then I will!”

“What did we just say about discussing potential evidence over the phone lines,” Papa scolds, and Logan hangs up, smiling.

Just be yourself.

Uncle Pattonish advice it may be, it has given him an idea.

⁂

Waiting over this past week to see if Mr. Regnant will crack and spill to Mr. Morales, or even worse, Logan himself, has been absolutely agonizing and Virgil’s kicking himself over going to Mr. Regnant for advice surrounding Logan at all.

That morning, though, Mr. Morales is at his desk, and a chai is waiting for Virgil at their usual spot, but Logan is nowhere to be seen. Virgil tries his hardest not to act too much like he’s keeping an eye out for Logan, but he is pretty sure he’s not succeeding, because Mr. Morales is smiling at him way too wide.

He actually seems really excited about something. Like, Mr. Morales usually gets excited when it’s fresh chocolate chip cookie day at lunch, but this is beyond the pale for fresh chocolate chip cookie day. Maybe the assembly they have today is something special? Except Virgil’s pretty sure it’s to pass out honors for the last quarter and talk about fall sports. That’s nothing particularly special.

Logan slides into his seat just before the bell rings, though, wrapping a rubber band around one of his notecard stacks. It’s a thin stack, it must be for something that’s just started; usually Logan compiles every unit of every class into thick stacks, able to be differentiated by the different colors of the notecards. These are just basic white ones.

He fiddles with it, darting looks to Virgil as Patton takes attendance, and, as they’re all filing out of the door, Logan holds out the stack of notecards.

“Here,” he blurts out.

Virgil blinks. “I don’t think we have a test soon?”

“They’re not for a test,” Logan says. “Just—take them. Read them during assembly. Please,” he adds belatedly.

“Uh,” Virgil says and takes them. “Okay?”

“Okay!” Logan says and nods. “Okay. Okay. Great! Um—please take your time to consider them carefully, and I await your response,” and then he practically runs off to fall into line near Mr. Regnant.

So that’s... weird.

But Virgil sticks the notecards into his hoodie pocket, anyways, ready to read them during assembly like Logan directed.

He waits until the principal is droning on about the importance of school spirit to take the notecards out of his pocket.

He spares a glance for Logan—who is several rows ahead, near the faculty, sitting next to Mr. Morales and Mr. Regnant, Mr. Morales occasionally reaching over to rub Logan’s shoulder bracingly—and then angles the notecards so that a teacher looking into the crowd wouldn’t really be able to see them.

He stares at the title on the top notecard. Blinks hard. Blinks again. Looks down at Logan’s back, then back to the notecard.

Reasons why I have a crush on Virgil.

He reaches over to pinch himself. Nope. Not dreaming, then.

And Logan really doesn’t seem like the type of person to make a joke like this.

He flips the cards and reads them slowly, savoring each and every word written in Logan’s blocky, neat script.

He is exceptionally witty.

He is knowledgeable about a great many things, such as music, art, spiders, novels, and mental health issues.

He is sarcastic.

He is thoughtful and deliberate in the formation of his opinions, even ones as small as the proper preparation of chai.

He is very handsome.

He is never rude without reason, and when he is rude, it is usually because the other person is “an asshole” and should be receiving backlash.

He is a remarkably talented artist.

Virgil keeps reading on, he is, he is, he is...

When he gets to the end—I would like to take you on a date. I would also like to be boyfriends, though I understand if you would like to table that conversation until we have established a rapport. Please let me know if you would be amenable to that suggestion.—he feels kind of dizzy. His throat is tight, his heart is pounding, and his hands are so sweaty he’s had to wipe them off on his jeans twice already.

Is it really possible that someone as wonderful as Logan would think of him so highly? 

It’s like he’s describing someone entirely different—awkward, anxious Virgil couldn’t possibly be the snarky, witty, caring, deep-thinking guy that Logan’s writing about. There’s just no way. But, Virgil thinks, heart twisting, but Logan doesn’t lie about things like this. Is this the way Logan sees him?

Is it really possible that someone as wonderful as Logan would have a crush on him at all?

He likes Virgil. He wants to take Virgil on a date. He wants Virgil to be his boyfriend.

There’s the rumbling of everyone standing up from the bleachers, and Virgil jumps—has it really been the entire assembly?—and hastily gets to his feet, so he won’t get swept up in the crowd of students returning to their classrooms.

As he’s heading for the door, Logan practically materializes in front of him, hugging his books tightly to his chest.

“Did you read them?” He asks fretfully. Now that Virgil’s close to him, face-to-face, he isn’t sure if he’s ever seen Logan so nervous. He isn’t sure if he’s seen Logan nervous at all. Logan’s shifting his weight from foot to foot, drumming his fingers on his books, holding the books like they’re a teddy bear.

“Do you,” Virgil says, his voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “You really like me?”

“Since last year,” Logan admits.

“I’ve liked you since kindergarten,” Virgil blurts out.

Logan blinks at him, jaw dropping. Then he says, “Really?!”

“Really,” Virgil promises. “My mom has this journal entry saved where I kept writing about how I was going to be Mr. Virgil Sanders, oh my God, she’s going to be so embarrassing about this—”

Logan snorts, ducking his head. “You’ve withstood my uncles handily.”

“Your uncles are cool, though,” Virgil says, confused.

“My uncles are embarrassing,” Logan says, “and my Dads are going to be so weird, I’m very sorry in advance, but—but if you can handle all of that, then I’d—I’d really like to take you out to the Halloween festival. I’d really really like that.”

Virgil’s smiling so wide that it hurts his face. “I’d really really like that too.”

And then the bell rings, and the pair of them jump at the sudden loud noise.

“I—we have to go to class,” Logan says, sounding very put out.

“Yeah,” Virgil says, then, “I’ll see you at lunch?”

Logan beams at him. “Lunch sounds wonderful.”

Virgil hesitates, before he reaches out and places a hand on Logan’s shoulder. He leans in and presses his lips to Logan’s cheek.

Logan’s bright red when he pulls away.

“Lunch?” Virgil confirms.

“Lunch,” Logan squeaks out, his voice cracking.

They emerge from under the bleachers, and have to split ways. Even when Mr. Regnant pulls him out into the hall under the guise of talking about his project and starts whisper-shouting about “do you know how HARD IT WAS to keep QUIET when i KNEW all along that you both LIKED each other bacK,” even when Mr. Morales ducks his head into his math class to pass over papers and gives Virgil some super-obvious thumbs up, even after he texts his Mom and his mom sends him screenfuls of exclamation points and immediately asks him to invite Logan over so that she can show Logan all of Virgil’s baby pictures—

Virgil cannot stop smiling.

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 3: Soulmates

Your shadow is the current silhouette of your soulmate. Only you and your soulmate can see your shadow. Shadows of animals and objects (non-humans basically) can be seen by everyone. Most people have human soulmates that grow up with a human shadow. Logan is not most people.

Logan POV, Intrulogical, Prinxiety and Moceit

Day 2 | Masterlist | Day 4

Logan was smart.

At just four years old, Logan could count to one thousand, tie his shoes, and knew how to read books meant for kids twice his age. Logan knew other things too. He knew that the earth moved around the sun, not the other way around. He knew that Mrs. Smith didn’t like Mr. Smith and that they were getting a ‘dee-vorce.’ He knew that rainbows were like giant water mirrors. And he knew what soulmates are.

Soulmates mean different things to different people. They appear as shadows, but your shadow is actually your soulmate’s shadow. Logan didn’t really understand how that worked, but he didn’t ask about it. Mama’s shadow disappeared when she was little, and she doesn’t like to talk about it. Logan didn’t understand why Papa married Mama if they weren’t soulmates, but he didn’t ask. Because Logan was smart, and he knew that if he asked about their soulmates, they would ask about his. And while Logan didn’t know a lot about soulmates, he knew that his shadow was different.

Logan’s soulmate was big. Bigger than Mama and Papa. Sometimes Logan would lay in bed and his soulmate’s shadow covered him like a blanket. It made him feel safe and protected. One time Logan was almost hurt by a big doggie, but the dog saw Logan’s shadow and ran away. Logan knew that big shadows weren’t good. He heard about how Susie from down the street had a ‘peddle-file’ for a soulmate. But Logan knew that his soulmate wouldn’t hurt him.

Sometimes the shadow would change into something smaller, closer to Papa’s height. Sometimes the shadow grew so big that Logan couldn’t see the end of it. But most of the time, Logan’s shadow stayed the same size and shape. Logan knew it wasn’t normal to have a soulmate that changed shape. He knew it wasn’t normal for his shadow to have long, spindly arms with pointed fingers. He knew that most shadows didn’t have long devil horns, or give off an aura that scared all animals and most humans away. Logan knew that Mama and Papa wouldn’t understand if he told them.

Because Logan was smart enough to know that his soulmate wasn’t human.

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

Logan was brave.

Most people wouldn’t see that at first glance. Logan was a 17-year-old nerd. He was such an oddball that even bullies steered clear of him (Logan never commented on that. He knew it was his soulmate’s aura scaring them away. Which was interesting since human shadows don’t have detectable auras). Logan always had his nose in a book. Most people expected him to be a teacher’s pet, but Logan never answered questions. He never reached out to others, and he never spoke unless he was spoken to, so most people didn’t know how brave Logan actually was.

Even those who considered themselves close to Logan didn’t see him as brave. In fact, most people saw him as emotionless. He rarely smiled or spoke out of turn. He was the perfect child in terms of behavior and intelligence, but he never showed signs of actually enjoying the world around him.

But there was something that Logan enjoyed: his shadow. While it was disappointing to have no one to talk to about his soulmate, Logan wouldn’t give his soulmate up for anything. It was fascinating to watch, and every time Logan interacted with his shadow he felt safe and loved. Most people would scream if their shadow’s jaw unhinged to impossible lengths, most likely to swallow something whole. Logan watched with rapt attention, itching to write it down. He never recorded anything about his soulmate, paranoid that someone would find it. Instead, he attempted to memorize every new detail on his soulmate. His soulmate was 8 feet tall exactly, with an extra four inches added for the horns. While his largest form was immeasurable, his smallest form stood at 6 ft 6 in with no horns to see. Logan assumed that this form was meant to mimic a human, though he had no other data to support that hypothesis. Logan’s soulmate was also extremely fast, occasionally moving its limbs at a speed that Logan couldn’t track with his eyes.

Logan participated in activities that made sense to him yet baffled others. He spent hours holed up in his room, his shadow comforting him as he read a book. He ran for an hour every afternoon, though he had no interest in joining any races. He also went to the gym every other day. Logan’s logic behind this was that he needed to be quick and strong in case his soulmate meant him harm (this was a lie and Logan knew it. Not only did Logan still believe that his soulmate wouldn’t harm him, he also doubted that he could physically run away from a creature that could potentially travel at inhuman speeds, much less fight one. The truth was that Logan wanted to have something vaguely in common with his soulmate). While Logan liked to read philosophy and chemistry books, he could also be seen reading books on soulmates, fairytales and cryptids. While Logan did not believe that humanity was aware that Logan’s soulmate existed, he hoped he would one day find something that would even slightly match his predicament.

Logan was actually reading another book about soulmates as he sat under the apple tree outside of the library. The tree’s shadow loomed over him, but Logan could still easily see his soulmate’s silhouette. He wasn’t sure if that was a soulmate-thing or a my-soulmate-isn’t-human-thing. That’s actually why he was reading this book: Everyday Occurrences for Soulmates. It was mainly a description of how soulmate customs were treated around the world, but Logan hoped that it would give him more insight into how human shadows should look and behave.

“Get back here, freak!” Logan’s head snapped up to see another teen run past him. Logan vaguely recognized the patchwork hoodie from his biology class. Virgil Storm, Logan’s memory supplied. Emo and social outcast. Logan watched as another group of teens chased after him. Virgil continued to run until he tripped and fell. Logan stood up as the gaggle of teenagers approached Virgil. This won’t do at all.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The teens looked afraid for a moment before they turned and saw Logan approaching.

The one in the middle laughed. “Run along, nerd, before you end up like this freak!” Micheal Scott, if Logan’s memory was correct (it always was). Senior, quarterback, was held back three times. 

Logan continued to step forward, ignoring the way his shadow lashed around his ankles. “Virgil has done nothing to warrant your ire, Micheal.” This was true; Virgil talked less than even Logan did. Other than being exceptionally talented in art, Virgil was essentially a nobody (and while Logan knew that looks could be deceiving, he- like everyone else- saw reason to interact with Virgil).

Micheal scoffed. “Of course he does! He’s a freak and he deserves to be put in his place-”

Now, Logan was very smart. He knew that acting violently would most likely result in negative consequences. But Logan also knew that Virgil didn’t deserve Micheal’s… anything, Micheal’s an asshole. But either way, Logan knew what it was like to be the odd-one-out. And while Logan was nervous of the consequences, when he heard Micheal call Virgila freak, Logan’s bravery shined through.

Logan was satisfied to feel Micheal’s nose break from under his fist. Those visits to the gym were actually useful. Huh. Logan watched impassively as Micheal fell down to his knees. Logan kneeled so that his face loomed just above Micheal’s. Micheal started shivering, and Logan couldn’t tell if it was him or his shadow that was causing him distress. He also didn’t care. “If you even look at me or Virgil the wrong way I will not hesitate to make your life a living hell. Understood?” Logan’s voice remained cold and emotionless. While his surge in confidence was making him slightly uncomfortable, it produced the intended outcome. Micheal blanched before scurrying away. It took only a look to get the other teens to do the same.

Logan knelt down next to the now safe teen. “Are you alright?” He held out his hand for Virgil to grab.

Virgil stared at the hand in shock, seemingly surprised that someone had stood up for him. “Yeah, thanks.” He took the offered hand, pulling himself up onto his feet. His sketchbook fell out of his hand, which Logan didn’t realize was even there. Logan bent down to grab the sketchbook for Virgil when he froze.

The sketch was of some kind of fae/eldritch horror combination. The creature’s face was youthful, appearing to be a man in his early twenties. Its arms were long and spindly, and his nails were sharpened to a point. It wore a white prince suit with a red sash. But what really grabbed Logan’s attention was the pair of devil horns that sat on top of its head.

Logan looked up at Virgil, who was suddenly pale and shaking. “Virgil, what was your inspiration behind this piece?”

Virgil grabbed the notebook and shook his head. “It’s nothing, just a nightmare I had. Nothing more.” He went to walk away.

Logan grabbed Virgil by the hoodie sleeve. “Please do not lie to me.” Virgil stared at Logan in horror. Logan stood there, feeling his desperation claw at him. “Please,” He whispered. “Please tell me I’m not alone.”

Because Logan was brave, and he didn’t want to be alone anymore.

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

Logan was observant.

While his observations didn’t help him in finding his soulmate, it did help him take care of his two new (and only) friends.

Virgil Storm apparently had a soulmate similar to Logan’s, as did Virgil’s best friend Patton Heart. Virgil also had a nightbond, a rare form of soulbond that allowed soulmates to visit each other in their dreams. Apparently, the creatures did not have a name for their species. Roman, Virgil’s soulmate, appeared to have very little knowledge on his species. While this did disappoint Logan, he was still grateful to have someone to share his findings with. After knowing each other for over a year, the trio were never seen apart, finally having friends who weren’t scared away by their shadow’s dark auras.

Virgil and Patton both had similar opinions to Logan on their inhuman soulmates, mainly that it was more fascinating than terrifying. Virgil was interested in the darker aspects of their soulmates, while Patton was just happy that he had a soulmate. Logan grew to care for the two teens. While Virgil was quiet and awkward around others, Logan learned that he was actually very snarky and cynical. Patton pretended that life was perfect, but Logan had seen enough to know that Patton only genuinely smiled when thinking about his soulmate. Logan had become quite protective of the two, as his shadow tended to scare off more potential threats than Virgil’s or Patton’s did.

Logan was currently running around the perimeter of the highschool as he waited for his friends to finish their activities. He had asked if they would like to join him, but Patton was asthematic and Virgil detested running. So, it had become a common occurrence for Logan to do his running while Patton and Virgil participated in their after school clubs.

Logan allowed his mind to wander as he completed another lap. He was disappointed that he’s so far unsuccessful in terms of meeting his soulmate. None of them had met their soulmates in person, even Virgil. According to Roman, the creatures had a much deeper connection to their souls compared to humans. He had also said that the creatures wouldn’t be found by their soulmates until “our loves are ready.” Ready for what, Logan didn’t know. But that didn’t stop him from exhausting every possible way to find his soulmate.

Logan saw a flash of yellow and almost tripped over his feet. Not stopping as to draw suspicion, he glanced towards the forest behind the school and saw something… odd.

Standing at the edge of the treeline was a man. He was tall and young, probably in his mid 20s. He wore an impeccable black suit with yellow accessories, which was odd since he appeared to have came from the forest. Logan followed his gaze and just as the gym doors opened. Patton sprinted out of the school, most likely grabbing something from his car. Logan watched as the man’s gaze followed Patton as he walked towards his car. Logan tsked as he darted into the treeline, attempting to not be spotted. The man was stalking Patton, and that was not acceptable. But Logan was observant, so he’d learn more about the man before making his move.

Logan had just reached where he’d last seen the man when he noticed something important: his shadow wasn’t moving. Any time Logan was heading towards potential danger, his shadow would move erratically around his feet, as if it was trying to stop him. Any time potential danger was heading towards him, Logan’s shadow would lash towards the danger, it’s natural aura deterring most creatures. But his shadow wasn’t moving. It was calm. Complacent.

Logan was so busy analyzing his shadow that he almost hadn’t realized that the man wasn’t there. Logan felt a chill go down his neck and he spun around, to find himself less than a foot away from the man. Logan stifled the urge to scream. His shadow wasn’t acting up, and Logan trusted his soulmate to protect him. But now that he was almost touching the man, Logan quickly realized something. How his smile was a hair too wide. How just standing close to him made Logan’s fight-or-flight reflexes go haywire.

Logan was observant, but it didn’t take much to realize that this man isn’t human.

Logan cleared his throat as he forced himself to articulate a response. “Hello. Might I ask why you’re trespassing into a high school to observe minors?”

The man looked guilty (bullshit) as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He held out his hand, presumably for Logan to shake. “My name is Declan Brown. I was sent by the school board to observe the school’s management of extracurricular activities-”

“Stop.” Logan suddenly said, resisting the urge to physically shake his head. A part of him was already nodding along to what he said. It’s a perfectly reasonable assumption- Logan did his best to shove the thought away. The creature obviously had a talent in mental manipulation.

The (not)man gaped for a second. “Excuse me?” He seemed shocked. The thoughts became more intense and repetitive.

Logan started rambling, less focused on his words and more focused on getting Declan’s (that’s probably not his name) manipulations out of his head. “Stop lying to me. No member of the student board would support stalking a minor from the school’s perimeter. Check up on your human facts before stating such a bold lie. And will you shut up with the thoughts!” Before Logan could acknowledge what he had said, the thoughts ceased completely.

The creature looked at Logan with unguarded curiosity. “Who are you?”

Logan crossed his arms as he ignored how terrified he felt. “My name is unimportant for this conversation. Now I’ll ask again: Why are you stalking my friend?”

Logan’s shadow chose that moment to respond, shifting forward so it brushed against the creature’s ankles. Logan then realized that not only did he seem to acknowledge Logan’s shadow, he also didn’t have a shadow. Which means that he has a soulmate. The creature stared at the shadow before laughing. “Ah. That makes much more sense.”

Logan frowned. “Please answer my question.”

The creature’s smile seemed more genuine as he held out his hand again. “Call me Janus. I was sent by Roman to check on his soulmate. And I wanted to check on my soulmate at the same time.”

Logan blinked as he processed the information. The creature knew Roman, so it was most likely the same (or similar) species. And since it was staring at Patton…

Logan grabbed Janus’ hand, giving it his firmest shake. Logan was not submitting to this creature. “My name is Logan. I assume you are Patton’s soulmate, correct?” At Janus’ smirk, Logan tightened his grip. “If you harm him in any way- physically, emotionally, you name it- I will find a way to make the rest of your existence a living hell.”

Janus laughed as he also tightened his grip. “He’s gonna LOVE meeting you.” Logan remained impassive, knowing that a single sign of weakness could cause his end.

Because Logan was observant, and no way in hell was he letting his friend get hurt.

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

Logan was loved.

Logan never really realized that. Sure, his parents said that they loved him, but Logan never really depended on his parents the way most children did. When Logan had a question, he read a book. When Logan was scared, his shadow protected him. When Logan was hurt or lonely, his shadow would comfort him. Most people depended on their parents to raise them. Logan raised himself. Most people saw shadows as a way to find their soulmate. Logan saw his shadow as a friend.

Maybe that’s why at 21 years old Logan confidently (and drunkenly) states that he’s never felt true love. Sure, he’s felt kindness and support (Patton and Virgil) but he’s never felt love. Sure, some nights he has long conversations with his shadow and lets himself believe that the way it twists and turns means that his soulmate can hear him. Sure, he sees Janus a few times every year (Logan knows by this point that Janus is letting himself be seen. Logan never told Patton about meeting Janus and they have yet to officially meet. If Janus wanted to be seen by Patton or not seen by Logan he could) and every time he begs to learn more about his soulmate. But that’s not love (he never says that around Janus. The creature can smell lies like Logan smells Patton’s perfume).

Maybe that’s why he drunkenly kisses a stranger at his 21st birthday party, ignoring the fact that he’s too short and his hold doesn’t feel safe.

Maybe that’s why when he goes to visit Patton weeks later and sees only a note that says His name’s Janus he crumples it up and throws it away. Maybe that’s why when Virgil texts him the same day simply saying Found my soulmate TTYL, Logan lets hope claw its way through his chest. Maybe that’s why when the sun sets and Logan gets no sign from his soulmate he curls up in a ball and sobs. Maybe that’s why he decides that he can’t wait any longer and he leaves his shitty apartment in the middle of his shitty town and heads towards the shitty forest that he knows is empty but he has to try.

Maybe that’s why when Logan’s so deep in the forest that he can’t find his way out and the moon hangs high over his head and he hears wolves in the distance he doesn’t get scared or sad. No, Logan gets angry. Angry at the world for rejecting him because of his menacing shadow. Angry at Patton and Virgil for leaving him for their own soulmates. Angry at his soulmate for making him believe for 21 fucking years that he had a chance at being truly happy.

A wolf broke through the tree line, lowly growling as he approached Logan. Logan growled right back, his irritation and heartbreak and anger clouding his judgment. The wolf howled, and Logan screamed. It was an odd feeling. Logan hadn’t screamed in a long time. He trusted his shadow to protect him, so he never screamed in fear.  But the way his throat burned from his anger was exhilarating.

The wolf lunged, and it took Logan a few moments to realize that it never reached him. Logan heard a satisfying crunch as the wolf head landed inches from his feet. Logan looked up and saw a monster of nightmares.

It was at least 8 ft tall, with long, spindly limbs sharpened to a point. Green horns protruded form his head, and his eyes glowed acid green. His bloody teeth stretched into a too-wide grin, and Logan did not smile back.

Instead Logan screamed again. But it wasn’t out of fear (never out of fear). It was out of anger, and exhaustion, and relief, and something else that Logan couldn’t name. He lunged at the creature, wrapping his arms around the black and green tunic as he continued to scream. The creature continued to smile, using his too-sharp claws to hold onto Logan’s back. And Logan broke. He started to sob, losing the ability to stand as he leaned further into the creature’s chest.

They stayed there for almost an hour, Logan sobs being the only sound in the vicinity. Eventually, the creature spoke up. “It’s nice to finally hold you, Logan.” Logan continued to stay silent, burrowing his face into the creature’s chest. “My name is Remus. I know that it hurts, but you weren’t ready until now. I wanted to come get you the moment I saw your shadow, I swear. But I’ve always been there, even though ya couldn’t hear me. And I promise I won’t leave ya ever.”

Logan felt himself smile as he relaxed further into the creature’s his soulmate’s hold, listening to Remus babble out apologies and promises. Logan allowed himself to finally feel. 

Because even though this was the first time they touched, Logan knew this wasn’t the first time they’d met. Remus had always been there to support Logan, even if he was hiding in Logan’s shadow. He was always there, and even though Logan was hearing him for the first time, Logan knew that he was in love with Remus.

And as they separated and Remus asked if Logan was okay, Logan let himself admit it. “I love you.”

And Remus repeated him, with no doubts or uncertainty. Because even though Logan refused to believe it before now…

Logan was loved.

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

This whole thing came from the single thought of “Wait, can I think of a single fic where Roman is actually a prince?” which was followed with “What if Roman was the Faerie Prince in LAOFT?” The thought wouldn’t leave me be until I wrote it down, and I figured, hey, since I wrote it down, might as well share it. (I think everyone here is sympathetic, because that’s how we roll.)

Now, without further ado, I give you… LAOFT role swap au headcanons!

In which Roman and Remus were Lords of the Forest until a mortal witch came between them. Roman, who had always views the humans as nothing more than, say, characters in a story (small and rather unimpressive), learns one, to never piss off a teenager with a sharp tongue, and two, the meaning of ~friendship~ when a somewhat cocky witch strolls into their forest. Remus, who rarely showed interest in humans aside from the occasional “game,” becomes worried that this witch is going to take his brother from him (be that by the witch betraying Roman, or by Roman choosing his human sister over his faerie brother), and acts accordingly, which, for Remus, probably means a murder attempt or four. Furious that his brother attempted to harm his friend, Roman retaliates. Unlike in LAOFT, where Dee uses trickery to incapacitate Virgil, Remus goes for more of a blunt-force route (see: their first canonical interaction, where Remus hits Roman over the head with a morningstar). Roman is put in the casket though one method or another. Remus probably viewed the whole thing as a prank or sorts, where Roman would be out of the picture until the witch was long gone, and problem solved. Greta, however, may not have gotten that memo, and goes ahead with the deal to awaken Roman. This, to Remus, is where the prank evolves into a game. 

We pick up a century-or-so later to meet Patton and his “twin,” Thomas (I’m just switching around the six sides, and leaving everyone else where they were, for the most part). Pat is just the sweetest soul ever, but most are too leery to come anywhere near him.

Exception number one is Virgil, the boy who was blessed by a fairy to have a charming voice. However, something happened (insert angst), and poor V accidentally weaponized his gift (see: tempest tongue), resulting in lots of anxiety and being generally quiet out of fear of hurting someone (instead of using qualifiers to avoid telling people to do things, like LAOFT Pat does, Virgil just doesn’t really say anything at all). Upon learning that Patton is immune to his curse, the two became inseparable.

Exception number two is (one of my favorite concepts in Sanders Sides fics ever: Feral Logan) Logan, the witch’s great-great grandson, who lives with his grandmother and probably already knows all about witchery and will not hesitate to hex someone who acts rudely to his two best friends seven ways from Sunday. Logan stumbled upon Roman when he was younger and decided that awakening the sleeping prince would be a perfect test of his magic. Logan views magic as another type of science, and loves to test all sorts of hypotheses, which is… stressful for any and all other parties involved. 

Remus, meanwhile, is doing a wonderful dance of denial. Does his miss his brother? Pshhh, absolutely not! That’s crazy! He’s having a grand old time ruling the first by himself, if you can call what he’s doing “ruling.” Remus doesn’t really put much effort into controlling the fair folk, so they do steal the occasional human from the woods, but he doesn’t actively encourage messing with the humans. (We still have the same dragon-witch-monster-ghost, who is desperately looking for Roman.) Remus might even be a little afraid of the mortals, though he’d never admit it. This may be one of the reasons whatever faerie who gave Virgil his gift wouldn’t be allowed to see him— why give the humans more power then they already have? 

Janus I’m not really sure about, but I am gonna pretty much ignore LAOFT’s Dee because I want sympathetic!Janus (that reads kinda rudely, sorry, I do really love how you wrote him, but I’m in a sympathetic!Janus sort of mood)— maybe he’s one of Remus’s knights. Maybe he’s Virgil’s fairy godfather. Who knows? He’s Janus, he can do what he wants. 

Plot wise, I’m not sure how much would change. I don’t think Logan would make a deal resulting in the Day/Night split— maybe Virgil would? If we go with that, we’ve got V running about with the faeries at night (that explains the eyeshadow, haha)(though that would open up some questions and plot holes about his gift/curse/blessing/whatever), and him letting Roman out (maybe this follows the magic sword thing from The Darkest Part of the Forest as opposed to your spider-shawl)(which, personally, I think is so much cooler). Roman then goes to Logan, and the two of them collect Patton and Virgil, who’d just come back from the revel? I’m not sure how it’d end, but probably with Roman and Remus getting along, Greta going to rest, true love saves the day, etc. etc. 

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading my mess of a “What if.” I really, thoroughly, truly loved reading LOAFT, and I get excited every time I get an email to tell me there’s been an update. Thanks for making such a cool series!

(Also, it’s worth mentioning that I’d never heard of The Darkest Part of the Forest before reading LAOFT. I borrowed it from my local library to read, and I don’t think you’ll ever understand how disappointed I was when there were not any witches, haha.)

---

V: this is so interesting, i love it sm!!!!!

[stillebesat]

A Hero’s Rescue (part 2)

Sanders Sides: Roman, Virgil Blurb: After being defeated in battle, the last thing Roman expects is to have a soaking wet hero show up at his doorstep. Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Superhero!AU Inspiration: This Post by @messythoughtsandscribbledplots Overall Fic Warnings: Blood, Injuries, Drugging (mentioned), Negative Self Talk, Threats of Violence, Death Talk Taglist in reblog. 

Part 1

Roman had made his mother’s special soup over a thousand times. To the point where he could do it on pure muscle memory--a feat he discovered after a particularly unrememberable encounter with one of Brainiac’s mind ray beams that he didn’t want to experience ever again.  

Still. Being able to feed himself with his mother’s soup even when his mind was completely blank of conscious thought was a good survival instinct to know he had...despite the circumstances. 

And yet. 

His master chefs had needed to take over the making of the soup halfway through after Roman had nearly sliced open his finger for the second time while dicing the onions because he wasn’t focused on the task at hand. 

Now though, with the main preparation done, he’d sent them back to their slumber, leaving him alone to stir the soup on the stove while keeping an eye on the pot of hot chocolate simmering nearby. At least he hadn’t managed to burn either one...yet. 

He supposed he could be granted a pass for being distracted though.

It wasn’t everyday he, a supervillain, had one of his nemesis’ over for a...well Roman had said kidnapping, but honestly, it was hardly that considering he’d left the kid alone to clean himself up without locking the door or even tying him up.

Roman exhaled, forcing his tense shoulders to relax as he reached up with one hand to check that his mask was still on.

Not that he’d let it or the crown he still wore to vanish. But he had to make sure.

Because he had a hero in his house.

He had a HERO in his House.

If any of the others ever discovered this--but no. He frowned. Someone had treated the young Thunderclap bad enough that he’d want to--that he’d come to Roman, no, to the Tyrant. To be--be---.

He let out another shaky breath, tilting his head to listen for the sounds of running water. For any indication that Whirlwind was still in the house.

For all he knew the young Rainspout had vanished as soon he was sure Roman had left the room. 

Or...he could be sneaking around the place right now. Looking for the Tyrant’s Lair. It could all have been a trick. A trap--NO. Roman growled under his breath.

There had been no mistaking the despondency and then the disbelief in Sparky’s eyes at how he, as Tyrant, was willing to take him in and treat him like a decent person--which Roman honestly needed to figure out how that was gonna go down for the next couple of days having a guest--instead of well...killing him. 

As Tyrant he was a lot of things…but an outright murderer? Hardly. Sure he could easily name a dozen other vile villains who wouldn’t have hesitated. To kill. To injure. To treat a hero, even a new one, like a punching bag. A dozen people Roman would need to check on to ensure they hadn’t mistreated Thunderclap in such a manner. Honestly, it really was a stroke of luck that the young hero had chosen to come to him first instead of--

Roman stiffened, hands going still on the pot as the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Static Electricity. 

Did Sparky realize he gave off that much energy? Probably not.

The soft coo of his dove confirmed that his new...guest? Yah. Guest was probably the best way to think about this. Had finally arrived.

“Fifteen minutes late, Whirlwind.” Roman said, fighting the urge to again check his mask to make sure it hadn’t slipped. “And here I thought heroes were supposed to be on ti--” He turned to the young hero standing awkwardly in the doorway with the dove on his shoulder, and promptly forgot to breathe as he caught sight of Sparky’s face. 

His maskless face. 

Roman jerked his eyes back to the soup, heart hammering in his chest as he gestured with a hand to conjure a simple silk mask, making it the same shade of purple as the pjs he’d created earlier that Sparky now wore. 

He coughed awkwardly, desperately trying to forget all the little details, all the bruises, he’d seen just from the two second glance at the, oh Crofters, he’d known the hero was young, but not a freaking teenager! What was he fourteen?!

He’d better have not been fighting a child this entire time. No, Sparky had to be at least eighteen. Please let him be an adult and not a minor. Because if he wasn’t...Roman would have to rethink his fighting strategies against his favorite hero. 

He clenched his jaw. And if...if the kid was actually freaking fourteen years old...then the perpetrator who’d hurt him like this would soon come to regret their actions because there was no way the Tyrant would let them get away with it.

Still looking away, he held out the mask to where he’d seen the hero standing, sending it with a flick of his fingers to hover near him in a crimson bubble. “You uh--forgot something, Thunderclap.” 

Perhaps he should have taken Sparky to a hospital first if he was so addled in the head to forget something so simple as keeping his secret identity intact in front of his enemy. 

 There was a soft sigh and a faint tingle as static electricity brushed against Roman’s crimson glow, like a finger poking into the side of a balloon, before the mask was pulled free from his hold. “I didn’t forget.” Came the quiet response as the hero edged closer, pausing by the oak dinner table, using it as a feeble barrier between them. “Figured you wouldn’t let me keep it on long anyways if I’m your…prisoner.”

Prisoner? Roman scoffed, moving to pull cups and bowls out of the cupboard, setting them down on the counter. “Even if I intended you to be a prisoner, Whirlwind, which I don’t by the way even if you are technically kidnapped, because otherwise you’d be in a containment bubble where I wouldn’t be risking getting myself shocked senseless by one of your little lightning bolts. I still have standards. I wouldn’t unmask you like that.” 

“....You wouldn’t?” 

Roman glanced at him from the corner of his eye, noting the mask was definitely still in the kid’s hands as he dished up the soup. “Of course not!” It was hardly fair play. Especially for a new hero. 

As the Tyrant, Roman may have enjoyed his battles with the Waterspout over the past six months, but they definitely weren’t ‘there’ yet when it came to him feeling any sort of victory from finally tearing away the hero’s mask to see the face of his enemy.

The moment he could corner that annoying army zapping Nerdy Wolverine though? Oh, that would be a sweet sweet victory he would savor for at least a year when he finally defeated Brainiac and rightfully discovered his true identity. 

Roman turned, two bowls of soup held in his hands as he carefully kept his eyes directed at the kid’s bare feet, noting that even there the hero had cuts and bruises. He fought back the flare of anger, adding a couple more potential acquaintances he’d need to pay a visit to on his ever growing mental list. “If I wanted to find out who you were, Whirlwind, I would have taken your mask off outside when you were kneeling at my feet in the rain.” 

He took two cautious steps closer to the young Hurricane, watching the feet as they shifted in place. He needed to tread carefully here. Go slow. His hero had been hurt and Roman needed to prove that Sparky was safe with him here. 

He took a breath, holding out both bowls to give the kid the option of choosing one, conscious of how the hero had been concerned that they could be drugged. Right. Drugged. Mentally he crossed off six names and added one more. “Beyond the fact that I would very much prefer it to happen after a long hard fought battle where I soundly defeat you, at least that reveal outside would be far more dramatic and rewarding than doing so in my kitchen of all places.” 

Wind whistled in his ears as Waterspout huffed a bitter sounding laugh as he tossed the mask onto the table. “Sorry to disappoint you then. But I’m done.” The lights flickered, the static electricity around them increasing. “Done with this...hero business. I can’t, Tyrant. It’s too much pressure. I’ll just fail.”  

Roman shook his head, frowning as he set the bowls on the table, gesturing with his hand to float the two mugs of hot chocolate by the stove over to them. “You haven’t failed me.” He said lightly, setting them down.

Scare him? Yes. It wasn’t every day that a hero comes to your home out of the blue asking you to kill them. 

Thunderclap snorted, resting his hands on the back of the chair closest to him, his fingers turning white. “Umm. Earlier today?” 

“I know you can’t make every battle, Sparky. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t show.” Roman said with a shrug as he pulled out a chair at the table and sat, pushing the purple mask closer to the kid while fighting to not adjust his own or look at the hero’s face. 

Sure he’d been disappointed. He always was when Thunderclap didn’t come to face him. Their battles were far more exciting, far more challenging compared to the other heroes he’d faced over the years. “You may not want to be a hero right now. But you’re injured. Exhausted. And hopefully hungry because I made you a ton of soup.” He twisted his hand, a soft red glow surrounding his fingers as two golden spoons appeared. He was careful to keep his eyes down away from the kid’s face as he twirled the spoons around his fingers. “After you eat your fill and get a good night's sleep in a big soft bed you might find you’ve changed your mind come morning.”

He could feel the static electricity continuing to build in the room until it felt like every hair on his body was standing on end. It made it difficult to not retaliate and send up a shield of defense against the lightning bolt that could be coming his way any second. 

But the kid had no reason to zap him. At least he hoped he didn’t. He just had to stay calm. Stay relaxed. 

Unexpectedly, the static energy vanished like an iceberg breaking apart leaving goosebumps racing up and down Roman’s arms as Sparky relaxed his grip on the chair. “You’re...not...acting how I expected you to.” 

He smirked. Good. The Tyrant couldn’t be just your predictable regular run of the mill bad guy. “Oh?” 

The chair scraped against the tile as Sparky cautiously sat down, his hand resting on the mask. “You...you care far too much about...” He shakily inhaled, the lights flickering above his head as he raised a hand, presumably to scrub at his eyes judging by the movement. “Me. No one ca--but you--and--and you don’t even know who--” 

No one cares? If he wasn’t certain he’d be electrocuted on the spot Roman would have pulled the young hero into another hug then and there. It sure sounded like he desperately needed one. 

“Kindness doesn’t need to be shown a face, Sparky.” Roman said softly, laying the spoons on the table with a quiet clink. “Just because I’m a bad guy...doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.” 

The kid huffed another shaky laugh. “Did...did you seriously just quote Wreck-it Ralph at me?” 

Roman jerked his head up in surprise. “You know--” 

The hero flinched back, causing the dove on his shoulder to take flight as his violet eyes half hidden by damp bangs flashed with panic while lightning crackled at his fingertips. 

Wait! Face! Gah! Roman twisted in his seat, hissing under his breath, his body tensing with the expectation of getting electrocuted. Great. Of course his love of Disney would come back to bite him at a delicate moment. 

This really would be much easier if the kid would just put on the mask already, so he wouldn’t have to worry--- but Roman wasn’t going to force him to do something he obviously was reluctant to do. Sparky was a guest…even if he was technically kidnapped. 

“I didn’t see anything, Whirlwind” He said as evenly as he could as the dove landed on the counter nearby with a soft coo, his mind racing as he turned his head further to stare at the pot on the stove. “But...judging from your reaction...perhaps you don’t actually want me to know who you are?” 

“I--I--” There was a thunk on the table as the crackling sound coming from the boy faded. “I don’t want to...be a hero right now, Tyrant.” He whispered. “I--I can’t--not now.” 

But the kid couldn’t exactly use his civilian identity in front of the Tyrant either since they were enemies. A pretty pickle. Except Thunderclap seemed to be forgetting one thing. He didn’t have to be either identity.

Roman glanced towards the young hero to see his face buried in his arms, purple mask half hidden underneath them. “Last I checked, Hurricane.” He said quietly. “There’s no rule saying that because you wear purple and white as a hero...that you can only ever wear those colors.” 

It would be a dead giveaway to the villains--for the smart ones at least--if the heroes did that.

Roman gestured, his hands again glowing crimson as he created a dozen more masks similar to the purple one the table, making each one a different color of the rainbow plus some boring shades like black and brown to give Raindrops a variety to choose from.

He turned away from the display as Sparky looked up. “If you don’t want to be a hero then pick a different color mask. You can be anyone you want to be under it. I can even conjure you a different set of pajamas so you can distance yourself further from your hero color scheme while you’re here. Just…” Don’t give up just yet. He shrugged. “Pick one.”

Waterspout reached out, hesitantly touching a blue mask, before shifting to hover over a green one. “...It can’t be that easy.” He whispered.  “What’s the catch?” 

 Roman made a face. “No catch. Pick a mask and then tell me a name to go with it.” He said, watching him from the corner of his eye as the boy lowered his head, his bangs hiding his eyes. “Any name.” He coaxed. “And I’ll call you that instead while you’re here. You won’t have to be a hero. You can just...be my guest.” 

“A guest. To the Tyrant.” Thunderclap said, putting an emphasis on the name.

That--the kid had a point. Roman exhaled. How could Sparky forget he was a Hero if his enemy, the Tyrant, was still around? Which meant...he would need to create his own alter identity as well. 

For the seemingly simple task of taking in a young hero and giving him soup...this whole thing was becoming more and more...complicated.

“No. Not to him. To me. Your host.” He stated, raising a crimson hand to his golden mask, altering it so that it became the same size and shape as the ones on the table, his crown vanishing as Roman made minor alterations to his appearance to keep Whirlwind from guessing his own civilian identity. 

He dropped his hand from the simple red mask he now wore, heart hammering in his chest at how...well naked he felt in the thing as he turned more fully to the kid, once more back in the clothes he’d been wearing while working on recreating his Knightmare Soldiers, careful to keep his attention on the masks on the table and not the hero’s bare face. No wonder Sparky was reluctant to wear this sort of thing. It hardly felt like a disguise at all. 

“You can call me Pryce.” He said, spreading his hands, fighting not to fidget under the weight of Sparky’s eyes boring into him, taking in his changed appearance.

“Pryce?” 

Roman nodded, watching Thunderclap’s hands twitching over his color options. “Yes.” 

It was one name he knew he would answer to that couldn’t immediately be connected back to his own civilian life.

“You’re serious about this? No heroes...no villains...just…us?” 

“So long as you’re here as my guest. Yes.” If Raindrops needed a break, then Roman would give him it. Anything to keep the kid from doing--from---from repeating--.

A soft sigh. “Okay.” Thunder rumbled in the distance as Sparky plucked up a plain black mask, placing it over his eyes. 

Roman blinked. Wait. Black? “Sooo...what? You going all goth on me now, kid?” He asked, slowly turning more fully towards the hero--to his guest as the boy looked up, already visibly relaxing now that Roman could look at him without seeing his identity. 

The corner of his lips twitching in a half smile as Sparky ran a hand through his darker hair, ensuring the bangs still half covered his eyes. “You have a problem with me wearing black?”  

Roman rolled his eyes. He was a villain who wore gold for a reason. Of course he didn’t like black. “Beyond it being such a common, dull, and boring color?” He waved a hand dismissively, vanishing the other masks. “No. Not really.” 

Thunderclap huffed, shaking his head. “Then...you can call me Andy.” He said, reaching for the closest bowl of soup, violet eyes flickering to him to check Roman’s reaction. 

Andy. 

Roman tilted his head. Not a name he would have picked for the hero. But he supposed that was kinda the point. “Andy.” He repeated. “Nice.” Not as nice or creative as Pryce, but he’d save his critiques for the boy’s lack of originality another day. “Is it short for the Mountain range?”

Spar--Andy choked on a laugh, shaking his head as he picked up a spoon. “No--not after--No.” 

“Pity.” Roman said, a more natural smile appearing on his lips as he grabbed his own bowl of soup, purposely getting the spoon to his lips before his guest to prove that the soup was safe. “After the Mints then? I would be more understanding of your emolicious choice in black if that were the case.”

Andy flashed him a smile, eyes sparking. “Only if Pryce is short for Price Tag. How much you going for these days? Two bucks?” He asked, taking a cautious sip from his bowl, only to immediately go for another spoonful.

  Roman nearly choked on his own soup. Price Tag? TWO BUCKS?! How dare he insult the Tyr-- Gah! Right. Not actively being the bad guy right now. But STILL. The audacity! 

No wonder he loved bantering with this kid.

“You’ll come to find, Hot Topic, that I’m priceless. You can’t afford me.”

Andy hummed, nodding like a wise old sage as he picked up the bowl in both hands, tilting it to his lips. “So your name is Less now?”

Roman clicked his tongue, watching the kid gulp down his soup like there was no tomorrow. Okay...he’d walked into that one. “No.” He said, summoning the pot over from the stove, so that the kid could get more if he so desired. 

“Pity.” Andy set the bowl down, glancing to the pot then to him. “Guess I can’t think of you any Less then.” He licked his lips, meeting Roman’s eyes before he could respond. “Not after--well...thanks--for letting me...crash here for a bit...Pryce.” 

Roman blinked, caught off guard at the sudden change in direction. A pity. He’d had a great retort to that earlier remark too. 

He took up the ladle, filling the kid’s bowl once more. “No problem, Peppermint.” He said as he also pushed the mug of hot chocolate closer to the hero, summoning a bag of marshmallows with a twitch of his fingers. He chuckled as the kid’s eyes once again lit up. “Stay as long as you need.” 

[imtoobiforyou]

Remember when I was a week late for Thomas’ birthday last year?

Well this time I’m two weeks late :D………

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY THOMAS SANDERS!!!!!

I have a lot to say about this comic but this is already long enough so comments are under the cut. :)

***edited to fix pixelation!

I was first inspired to create this by When I Grow Up from Matilda the Musical. It’s a cute song, check it out :D

At first I was going to make an animatic of the song, but midterms ended a few days before Thomas’ birthday, so I figured I’d probably be too late if I made an animatic. Turns out a comic also took three weeks to make :/…..*shrugs*

This is half character! Thomas and half actual Thomas I think. I mostly got my sources from Reacting to Old Home Movies, Moving On, and On the Borderline. I took a LOT of liberties with what info I had. However, all the outfits Thomas is wearing here are outfits he actually wore. The sides have clothes similar to Thomas’ when they are younger, but develop their own styles as they grow older.

Teenage Thomas, for example, has sides with about the same clothing they wear now, although they are wearing shorts. Also, the clothes are still slightly off- Patton’s cardigan is not tied, Roman doesn’t have his gold chain thingy on his left shoulder, and Logan’s tie is too short.

Before Patton and Logan wears glasses, their logos don’t have glasses. :P

There are a lot of references, big and small, to Thomas’ videos in this comic. It might be fun to figure them out :)

Here are some panels I’m particularly fond of:

Yes, Roman’s crown (and Logan’s tie in the same stage of life) is made of paper and put together with tape.

I wonder what Patton is talking to Roman about….

Different interests and desires pull you in different directions as you begin adulthood, and anxiety suffers….

Also the whole final sequence with the gradiant rainbow background took FOREVER and I’m really proud of it!!

Also here’s a bonus pic with all the Thomas’ together!

One funny mistake: Roman’s 1.0 outfit collar is drawn wrong! It’s the 2.0 collar :D…. But the 1.0 outfits having their logos is an intentional choice.

I’ll probs edit this post several times to add more comments, I’m too tired rn to write everything I want to.

@vigilantvirgil Thank you for emotional support and complimenting my wips Amanda :D :D

@silverglimse-productions you asked to be tagged!

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 46) [Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted (and possibly some future content), look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45

Patton hadn’t been aware until Virgil came along what exactly Mr. Deknis did in the winter. Most of his staff had gone home or had winter tasks unrelated to gardening to do, but Mr. Deknis and a few choice members of his staff still apparently did a lot despite not being able to plant anything.

He frequently invited Virgil to join in on these tasks, and Virgil often accepted. Patton wasn’t sure why he seemed to enjoy things like deep cleaning gardening tools and checking over equipment, but he did, so Patton was glad.

“Alright, that’s enough of that for today,” Mr. Deknis said once Virgil finished brushing off the paste that had been applied to remove rust from a hoe.

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked. “I have more time to work. Even if you need to go, I can still work on something. Unless you don’t want me messing with things without supervision…”

“I’m not telling you to leave, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a half-smile. “I just thought you might want to help me out with something else today.”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” Virgil agreed, sounding just a touch excited.

“Let’s put all of this away,” Mr. Deknis said.

Virgil and Patton helped him put things away, though Patton felt more like a hindrance as both Mr. Deknis and Virgil seemed to know exactly where everything in the room went whereas Patton wasn’t sure about some things.

Patton didn’t always come with Virgil when he was helping Mr. Deknis. Sometimes Logan would come instead, and Virgil had been coming alone with increasing frequency over the last month or so.

He seemed to like it. He always seemed to look forward to spending time with Mr. Deknis and not only because Mr. Deknis often bribed him with snacks of dried or pickled fruits and vegetables.

Once the tools and cleaning equipment were stored away, Mr. Deknis led them down the hall. Mr. Deknis had an entire hall to himself on the first floor of the castle which included his bedroom as well as places to dry and can things.

Where he was leading them now was a small study next to his bedroom. Patton had never been there before and by the way Virgil was curiously looking around, neither had he. It was a cute little area with a small desk and a bookshelf full of books that seemed to all be on plants.

“I’m starting to think about what I want to grow in the gardens next year,” Mr. Deknis explained as they crammed into the small office. He pointed to a large piece of paper on his desk.  “This is the plan at the moment, though it’s nowhere near finalized.”

He pointed at an empty square sketched on the large paper. “I was thinking I wanted to plant something new here, but I don’t know what. It’s just a small patch between the vegetable and flower garden. It’s sort of by the one three teared fountain. I usually use that patch for newer plants, so it could be a vegetable or a flower. I was thinking you could help me pick out something to put there.”

Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide.

Mr. Deknis smiled at him. “Would you like to?”

“I…” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to put.”

“Well, I have a few different books of plants you can flip through,” he said. “Any idea what kind of plant you’d like to grow?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’ll just give you a few for now,” Mr. Deknis said, selecting three different books. “If you can’t find anything you like, just let me know and I’ll give you another book. There are plenty of different types of things to grow. This is just a start.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, eyes staring down at the field of flowers drawn on the cover of the book on the top of the stack in his arms.

They spent the afternoon on the floor of Mr. Deknis’ living room. The gardener made them some lavender tea and let them eat some candied walnuts and then retreated to an armchair to read his own book about plants.

Patton and Virgil laid on the floor flipping through the different books. Virgil still wasn’t very good at reading, so Patton would read the descriptions of the plants that caught his eye to him. One of the books was about different vegetables and one was about herbs, which of course, did catch Virgil’s attention a bit because of his love for edible things. Yet the pictures of flowers seemed to interest him the most.

They ended up eventually looking only in the flower book. A while after that, it became clear that he preferred flowers in the orchid family verses composite flowers because he liked the shape of their petals better. So, then they focused more on looking at the different types of orchids that existed.

“There are a lot more types of orchids than I knew there were,” Patton said.

“It’s the second largest family of flowers,” Mr. Deknis told them from his chair. “There’s a lot of different kinds, over 28,000 species at least. Vanilla comes from an orchid plant. If there are none in that book you especially want, I could get a book specifically on orchids.”

Virgil, having already flipped through the book multiple times looking at the orchids in it, looked up at him with a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I would like that,” he said. “Yes, please.”

Mr. Deknis’ eyes softened on him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll go see what I have in the office.”

“Getting to grow something in the garden is exciting,” Patton said once Mr. Deknis left.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “It is.”

It was very nice of Mr. Deknis too, Patton thought. He didn’t have to offer to let Virgil plant something, in fact, him happening to have an empty patch in his plans was probably a little bit of a fib, but it was a nice one.

Virgil liked plants, and it would give him something to look forward to over the winter and then something to do in the spring and summer. Honestly, Patton couldn’t wait to see him experience the castle in the spring. He’d already loved it in the fall, let alone when things started to grow. Patton had a feeling he’d be spending a lot more time outside this summer.

Mr. Deknis came back with a good-sized book filled with pictures of flowers. “Why don’t you take this with you for tonight,” he suggested. “It’s almost dinner time. We can talk about it more when you come to help me again on Saturday.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, taking the book. “I will see you Saturday then.”

“See you Saturday, Virgil,” he said with a smile.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 47

Birds of Different Feathers Master Post

My Masterpost

[ayellowcurtain]

I can be your lover

Part 8

“No, my underwear!” Robbe rushes to hold his underwear in place, looking at Sander above him, sitting on his heels, completely surprised with the sudden stop to their make out session. They were moving fast, unable to kiss, just brush their lips together because they were too eager to get rid of every single piece of clothing from the second they got inside.

Sander laughs, looking up at the ceiling, still holding the waist of Robbe’s jeans, his thumbs quietly pressing deep against Robbe’s hips, he can feel his jeans sitting tight now that’s around his ass, and Sande is ready to pull everything off of Robbe’s legs.

“What? I have to take one at a time?”

Robbe tilts his head on the pillow so he can see Sander clearly. It’s a mind blowing experience seeing him like this again, slipping out of the bed to stand up, about to pull Robbe’s pants completely off his legs, shirtless, but with all the rest of his clothes still on and in place, his hair all messy from the make out session they had against the bedroom door, Robbe needed to hold it tight to make sure Sander was real. He looks freshly out of Robbe’s wettest dreams. He seems more fit than what Robbe remembers, his pants sitting as low as it can go on his hips while still buttoned.

“Yes...” Robbe whispers softly, resting his feet against Sander’s hips, hoping the weight they cause helps Sander’s jeans go a little lower.

Sander snorts, holding him by his calves, suddenly pulling him closer with one movement until Sander can wrap Robbe’s legs around his waist, the angle a bit off but still making Robbe feel exposed and raw.

“Robbe...I’m going to take everything off anyway. One by one, really?”

Robbe laughs, biting his lip and nodding his head, his freezing cold hands due to the anticipation touching the sensitive skin of his navel when he goes to adjust his underwear to put it back in place.

“Fucking hell...” Sander complains under his breath.

“What?" Robbe sighs, unable to concentrate on anything when Sander bends down slowly, putting his whole weight on his hands until he’s above Robbe again, the angle almost perfect with the new position, even though there are too many layers of fabric between them still.

His arms are a lot stronger and Robbe stares at his biceps right next to his face, holding it carefully, kissing the tanned skin with his mouth open, hearing Sander’s soft moans while watching Robbe go up his arm, gently biting his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful, fuck." Sander whispers when Robbe finally looks at him, so close he can almost taste it, makes him dizzy with want. Robbe grunts, wanting to kiss him for hours, tell Sander endless times how much he loves him, trying to catch up with all the missed opportunities to say it.

"Stop..."

"It's true, Robin." He opens his mouth and Robbe lies back down, proud to be able to notice the intention early enough to tease Sander with an almost kiss like he did with Robbe so many times in the past.

"I love you so much but," Robbe sighs, not sure how to word it. "I'm basically naked, Sander, and you're still fully dressed..." He whines, looking down, trying to find the button on the dark jeans so he can make things move faster already. It’s nerve-racking how Robbe can’t think straight when he starts picturing Sander naked, pressing their bodies together. It hasn’t happened in way too long but Robbe remembers like it was today. How good they feel together. And he wants it back, now, and for a long time.

Sander holds him by his wrist and with a calm that Robbe doesn’t own, puts both of Robbe’s hands over his head and keeps them there, intertwining their fingers, pressing the three hands on top of each other just enough so Robbe can’t reach anywhere else.

“You want me naked?”

Robbe nods his head, trying his best to look convincing enough for Sander to come down and kiss him already since he can’t really move with Sander over him, holding him like this.

“Okay.” Sander agrees easily, finally pressing their lips together for just a brief moment before he’s moving up, leaving a desperate Robbe needing more on the bed while he stands up again to unbutton his jeans, pushing them down his legs.

His jeans are a lot tighter than Robbe’s so he actually has to take his time to use both hands to push them all the way down, lifting one leg then the other to take it off his feet, dropping it carelessly on the floor. Robbe can’t help but stare at how tight Sander’s underwear is, almost as tight as his. Sander looks at him and lifts his eyebrows, not making such a scene as Robbe did, getting rid of his black boxers right away.

Robbe bites his lip not to make a sound that would give everything away: how badly he has craved Sander since he left, how badly he needs him right now, lifting his hips from the mattress to take his last piece of clothing off, letting it fall next to him on the bed, eager to hold Sander close when he finally comes back to bed, kissing Robbe, desperate all of a sudden.

-

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Robbe can’t really move, still lying half on top of Sander, with his head on his shoulder, watching how his chest is moving rapidly, unable to hold much air yet. He sounds tired but not too bothered by Robbe’s weight on him. Robbe bites his lip not to ask Sander to keep talking just so he can hear him again. He’s thirsty so he assumes Sander is too, in desperate need of a glass of water to wet his sensitive lips and throat. Both their bodies are still extremely hot and sweaty, starting to bother but not enough to make him find the strength in him to move. He looks back up at Sander, also looking at him, playing with Robbe’s hair all messy and damp. His lips are swollen and so inviting for just one last kiss.

They made a huge mess, more than usual, and Robbe is already ashamed thinking about how he looks, not excited to see himself in the mirror any time soon, he starts blushing just thinking about it. But it doesn’t seem to bother Sander, his eyes slowly moving to revisit every feature of his like he’s never seen Robbe this up close before.

“What kind of question is that? Of course you can sleep here.” Robbe looks at him, studying Sander right back, the words dancing in his mouth so easily, so certain, “Move in with me.”

He feels Sander’s body get tense, moving to the side a little and Robbe finally lies on the mattress, with Sander propping himself on his elbow, caught by surprise by his invitation but he doesn’t look upset by it, still so close to Robbe.

“Are you asking me to move in with you? Seriously?"

Robbe feels the urge to pretend he didn’t mean it, to apologize and change the subject and never mention it again. He stutters, feeling his whole body warm up instantly on the surface. He adjusts himself, pulling the sheets to cover more than just his legs.

“Yes. It’s been a plan since forever so fuck it, we’ve waited long enough and you’re home now and you hate living with your parents. Move in with me, Sander.”

Robbe pushes himself up too, putting his head on his shoulder, hoping he’s not confusing Sander yet again.

They stay quiet for a long time. Robbe is with a growing anxiety in his chest that is about to eat him alive whole with every second with no answer and Sander seems to be diggesting the offer, intrigued by it.

“Yes.”

Robbe opens and closes his mouth, frowning, surprised with how confident Sander said that one tiny word after needing so much time to think.

“Are you sure?”

Sander comes closer, lifting the off-white linen sheets like they’re aren’t naked under it, intentionally tangling their legs like it’s nothing, nodding his head without thinking, staring at Robbe’s lips, his hand coming to the back of Robbe’s neck, massaging it carefully.

“Yes. I’m so very sure.” Sander brushes his nose against Robbe’s, purring. “Things escalated very quickly, huh?”

Robbe presses his lips together, thinking of a way to make the offer less daunting.

“So let’s pretend I’m just giving you a place to stay while you look for a place of your own.”

“Robbe.”

“Hm?”

“Are you scared of living together?”

“No. No, I’m not.” Robbe pushes himself closer, putting his arm around Sander’s waist to keep him close, to reinforce his words.

“All the way or no way, remember?” Robbe laughs, dropping his head to rest it against Sander’s chest.

“Do you still live by that?”

“Yes? Of course! That’s like my life motto.” Sander kisses the top of his head and Robbe moves to get a kiss on his lips too. “When I tell my parents I’m moving out to go live with you, my mom will brag for weeks, fuck.”

Robbe smiles, brushing his nose against Sander’s cheek, looking at him. Robbe doesn’t like to assume things, or to think he’s anyone’s favorite but he’s pretty sure Sander’s mom likes him a little more than she likes the other boys.

She was always so nice to him since they were little, even offered to be his tutor when his parents were getting divorced. She kept saying she always wanted another son. Maybe she’ll have her wishes after all. While Sander was away, Robbe tried to keep his distance so it wouldn’t hurt even more, being constantly around Sander’s family as a reminder of how Robbe had let him go so easily. But she always texted, called to check on him, see if he needed anything.

“You know...that time when you almost moved in with us? I got home one day and she was looking at some things online, a new bed, paint to refresh my bedroom. We were going to share a room almost a decade ago. And we might share one now…”

Robbe sighs, trying to picture them, young and so confused, sharing a bedroom just a few months before things got really confusing between them with a high kiss at a party. He looks at Sander’s chest, still seeing their teenage versions in his head.

“Maybe, in the end, we made a mess with our decisions a decade ago all the way until now and this time we’re finally where the universe wanted us to be all along.”

Sander snorts, kissing his forehead, “You and your universe talk.”

“What about it? You don’t like it?” Robbe pushes Sander away but he comes right back to where he was, his hand under Robbe’s chin to make him look up, only an inch between their mouths.

“I don’t care how, the universe, Bowie, life, coincidences, I’m just extremely happy to be where I am. And I don’t want to be anywhere else, ever.”

Robbe sighs, looking at him, at how certain of everything Sander is every time.

He wishes he was like that and he’s so happy to have someone so close to him that he looks up to every day of their lives to learn how to be so confident that everything will work out in the end. Sander jumps in the dark like no other and Robbe envies that. He’s an amazing friend, the best Robbe has ever had, and he’s an even better lover.

“Can you say that again?” He asks with as much confidence and love as his body can have.

“I don’t wanna be anywhere else, ever but here, with you. It doesn’t matter where. I’m happy it’s with you.”

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Part II

The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst.

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

Requests are open if you have any ideas of what I should write next!

Moyo thought the situation was hilarious. “Dude,” he said, between fits of uncontrollable laughter. “You’re never going to get any pussy ever again. Oh my gosh.” He doubled over in front of the fireplace, clutching his stomach as if it would burst. As a Gryffindor, he shouldn’t be in the Hufflepuff common room at all, and neither should Zoë (a Ravenclaw). Zoë got permission because her boyfriend, Senne, was Head Boy. Moyo slipped under the radar because he never wore his tie around campus.

Aaron too had his concerns for Robbe’s love life. “Does it count as cheating? Amber said that Noor—”

“He just kissed you?” Zoë sat forward on the couch. “Just like that? No asking, or—”

Moyo cut back in. “You will never feel the sweet, sweet touch of a woman. The virgin Robbe.”

“Boys, boys,” said Jens, ever the peacemaker, ever Robbe’s protector. “Uh, and girl. We are solving the crisis, not bringing up new ones.” He gestured to Robbe. “You have the floor, my friend. What do you need from us?”

“I, uh—” Robbe began.

It had been Jens’s idea to tell Moyo and Aaron in the morning. Zoë just happened to be waiting around for Senne to come out of the dormitories at the same time. The Hufflepuff common room featured two tables on either side of the fireplace, each surrounded by four straight-backed chairs. One couch faced the fireplace, and right now, Aaron, Jens, and Zoë had claimed it for themselves. With all the prime real estate taken, none of the other students stuck around.

Plus, it was early, before breakfast and morning classes.

“Go ahead,” said Jens.

Robbe didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what Sander expected to get from the arrangement, either. What he knew:

1. Sander kissed him to get Britt off his back.

2. Sander referred to him as a boyfriend rather than a hookup.

3. Sander knew he wanted to get Noor to leave him alone.

What he didn’t know:

1. Did Sander want them to fake date?

2. Was it just a one-time thing?

He wasn’t a big fan of not knowing all the specifics. It was hard enough to trample down the feeling blossoming in his chest when he thought of kissing Sander again.

“I—I need—” What did he need? He needed to talk to Sander. They didn’t share any classes, nor were there any Hogsmede visits coming up in the near future. Robbe sure as hell wasn’t going to patrol down near the dungeons, even if Jana came with him, because they smelled like mildew and he didn’t want to run into anyone besides Sander. He decided on a placeholder for now. “I need you to go along with it. If Noor asks.”

“Go along with it?” Moyo repeated.

“Yeah, go along with it. Corroborate the story.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Moyo crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lying to a girl. Especially not a pretty one.”

Aaron nodded along. “That’s messed up.”

“You’re not going to earn any points by not,” said Jens. Thank goodness for Jens.

“It is a bit cruel, isn’t it?” said Zoë. “Tell her you’re not interested if you’re not interested. It’s an asshole move to drag someone else into it.”

They dissolved into cacophony, talking over one another without regard for volume. It reminded Robbe of last night’s music. He’d meant to ask the boys if anyone had heard anything from the astronomy tower last night (had Sander made a bubble at all?), but he hadn’t gotten the chance when Jens opened with “Sander told everyone he and Robbe are dating so Britt and Noor will leave them alone.”

“And she’s going to find out,” said Moyo. “Girls know everything. Imagine how that’ll feel—Robbe hates you so much he’d rather be gay than snog you. It’s not fair.”

Zoë pointed at Moyo to emphasize his point. “I’m surprised to hear such a rational take from you.”

“I don’t hate her!” Robbe felt the need to step in and defend his honor. “I already told her I’m not interested. She keeps circling back around, and I’m tired.” In truth, he hadn’t said anything explicit. She should understand his apathy by the way he never took her coat or offered to walk her back to her common room. Perhaps that made him a bad person. “Look, this won’t be forever. We’ll give it a week and we’ll break up and everything will go back to normal.”

Moyo laughed without humor. “Yeah, minus any chance of ever having sex with a girl ever again.”

“You had to ruin it,” said Zoë. “Bad take.”

“Okay, but after the whole thing last night, Noor’s gonna be depressed no matter what,” Jens said. “You tell her that last night was for Sander, and she’s going to be all over you again. You tell her it was so both of you could avoid both of them, and now she’s just as upset as she would be with the fake-dating. It makes more sense to go along, fake a breakup, and let the whole thing fizzle. No one gets hurt.”

The others considered this analysis. Robbe took to pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. He really didn’t want Noor to get hurt in all of this—did he?—but the allure of having her leave him alone was too great to pass up. And she’d be hurt if he told her flat-out, so wouldn’t this roundabout way be better? Yes, Jens was right. Aaron, Zoë, Moyo, and Jens gathered together in a makeshift huddle to deliberate the issue like committee.

Robbe pretended not to hear their animated whispers. He caught bits and pieces.

“Noor is kind of annoying—”

“What’s done is done, isn’t it?”

“—something an asshole would do. Remember when Jana—”

“I would never—”

The giant clock on the wall above the exit read seven. Breakfast would be ready in the Great Hall any minute now, and they’d need to hurry if they wanted to eat in time for History of Magic. Any later than seven-fifteen and Noor would be downstairs, too.

“It’s agreed, then,” announced Jens. He stood up and adjusted his tie. “We play along. Robbe and Sander five-ever. C’mon, boys, class.”

Moyo and Aaron grumbled to themselves, but they followed Jens to the portrait on the wall and slipped through with Robbe at their heels.

***

The walk to the Potions classroom felt longer than ever before. It was the first class of the day that Robbe didn’t share with one of his friends, because Moyo and Aaron were shit at following instructions and Jens had never created anything that worked. They barely mustered satisfactory grades last year. Robbe was a rule-follower. That’s why he was a prefect, and that’s why he could make a damn good Wolfsbane potion.

“Hello, darling!”

Someone slammed into him from the side, almost knocking his textbook from his hands. Robbe looked up and right at Sander’s perfect face. Sander’s eyes were alight, even in the dim aesthetic of the dungeon hallway. He held an embroidered canvas schoolbag over one shoulder and a wand in his left hand. It was all Robbe could do to not collapse when he slipped his right hand into Robbe’s and squeezed—until Robbe spotted Britt standing at the door to the potions classroom. Her eyes locked on them.

That answered some questions, anyway. Sander wanted whatever this was to continue.

“Where are you headed?” Sander asked. “I’ve got Transfiguration in a half hour, so I’m free to take you wherever. He said the words a lot louder than he needed to.

Robbe shared Potions with Britt. He’d totally forgotten. And he couldn’t possibly go see her, could he? So really, there was only one thing he could say. “Free period. I’m wandering.”

“Lead the way, oh wanderer.”

They walked side-by-side down the corridor, passing in front of the haunted girls’ bathroom and a wall stained by something that looked an awful lot like blood. Sander’s long strides made it difficult for Robbe to keep up; it took two of his steps to match one of Sander’s. He noticed something he hadn’t before—he didn’t make a habit of watching Sander walk when they went out with Britt. Sander kept his chin angled toward the ceiling and seemed to base his gait on the people around him. Faster than everyone else. Even if it took more effort than casual.

“Is this a thing now?” Robbe whispered. He tried to hide the fact that he might be wheezing. “If it shows Noor I’m not changing my mind, I’m still all the way…”

“I’d assumed it would be. Are there going to be rules?”

“Rule number one: you sit detention for the music. I still reported you.”

Sander stopped abruptly; his eyes caught on something down the hallway. “Duck into this bathroom with me,” he said. “Lingering kiss, then bathroom. Cool?”

“Uh, cool,” said Robbe.

The words had barely left his mouth before Sander’s lips were on his, something sweet, soft, and sloppy. Not as good as last night’s. Robbe decided he hadn’t really enjoyed that one, either. It was nerves that made it seem that way. He pulled away first.

It was kind of good, though. Ugh, kind of.

They turned, and Sander dragged Robbe into the bathroom by his wrist. He played the part of lovestruck teenager very well, from the mischievous glint in his eyes to the exaggerated gesture of the dragging. Once inside, he backed Robbe against a sink like they were going to kiss again, hard enough to make a loud clank. Then he withdrew, peeked out the door.

“Saw Noor,” he said, by way of explanation.

“Huh,” said Robbe.

“Is that the kind of stuff you want?”

“Don’t you have Transfiguration?”

Sander dismissed him. “I can cut. More important matters at hand.” He spun around to lean against the sink next to Robbe, who hadn’t moved since he was pushed. The sinks were arranged in a circular formation in the center of the bathroom, accessible from the stalls on either side. A large stained-glass picture of a massive snake glared down at them from the far wall. “What do you want this to entail?”

The porcelain dug into Robbe’s back at an unpleasant angle. He tried to remedy the feeling with a little fidgeting around. “What do you want it to entail?”

“You came to me. Clearly you have ideas. Britt will hate whatever.”

Robbe took a deep breath. “I just want Noor to think I’m in a relationship. So, like, you can do what you think—I mean, what will make her think—”

“Got it, got it.”

The bathroom was suddenly smaller than it felt a second ago. Silence made it even worse. Robbe stared at the floor so that he wouldn’t stare at Sander; he didn’t want to give off the impression that he was enjoying Sander’s company too much. He found himself thinking the same thing he’d been thinking since Sander kissed him yesterday: if only the boys knew, if only the boys knew, if only the boys knew… Which was a fruitless pursuit.

This was an arrangement and the relationship was fake. He wasn’t actually enjoying it.

No need to tell Jens or Moyo or Aaron anything more.

“Okay,” said Sander. “Give it five more minutes here like we’re making out. Then we head to the astronomy tower and we discuss the finer details. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.

Sander raised his wand and pointed it at a roll of toilet paper that sat on one of the toilets. The roll transformed into a compact CD player, floated over to their place at the sink, and began to play the same song as the player last night. “Not going to sit here in silence,” he said. The implication was that they wouldn’t talk to each other, Robbe thought. He dug his fingernails into the edges of the sink and counted down from three hundred so that he didn’t notice the veins in Sander’s hands.

They carried the player with them when they left the bathroom, only this time, Robbe could tell that Sander had actually performed some kind of bubble charm on the audio. No one so much as glanced in their direction as they wove their way through the packed hallways. They climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower, keeping to the right, and Robbe was surprised to watch Sander hop up into the little windowsill that Robbe fancied he owned.

“Alright, actual conversation.” Sander folded his legs and sat across from Robbe. “I should know things about you if I’m going to be convincing. And vice versa.”

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” said Robbe. That seemed like enough.

Not for Sander. “Real things. You know, mother’s maiden name, first grade teacher, the name of your first pet…”

Hang on, those questions sounded familiar. “Are you trying to steal my bank account?”

“Ah, so you have one?”

“A muggle one, yes. Not at Gringotts.”

Sander nodded, satisfied. “Me too. I mean, I have one at Gringotts, but it’s got like twenty Galleons in it. Maybe.” He pointed to the compact player. “Muggleborn.”

Robbe was a little startled at this information—Slytherin house favored purebloods, even when not in the midst of a war based on magical purity. Something about the founder and this whole thing with a basilisk.

“You too?” Sander prompted.

“I—uh, no,” Robbe said. “My dad is a wizard, just my mom isn’t, and I live with her during the summer.”

“Hm. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I don’t know. I study a lot. And I hang out with my friends, I guess.”

“Who are your friends?”

“Jens, Moyo, Aaron, and the girls. Are you going down a checklist or something?”

Sander laughed self-consciously. It was such a nice sound, holy shit, Robbe could listen to it all day. Sander adjusted his tie and shirt collar. “Forgive me for wanting to know more about you.” Robbe felt something swell in his chest and die when Sander continued, “What if Britt asks for info and I can’t give details? She’ll know something’s up for sure.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robbe ceded. Of course it was about the arrangement, that’s why they were there. Focus, Robbe. “The girls are Jana, Zoë, Amber, Yasmina, and Luca, if you want to write that down. We’re not really close, though. Just me and Jana.”

“Why’s that?”

“Jens is my best friend and Jana dated him for a while.”

“Huh. Committing that to memory.” Sander put his fingertips on his forehead and hummed to the tune of the CD’s song as if he were downloading information. “Okay, it’s there. Anything else?”

Robbe scoured his brain for something interesting about himself that would be helpful for a boyfriend to know. Boyfriend. Fuck. He gave himself a moment to savor the way it sounded in his head. Boyfriend. My boyfriend. There was a crisis there, in that it was so right compared to girlfriend’s wrongness, but he wasn’t going to have that breakdown right now. Boyfriend. Sexuality debates could wait until the whole fake-dating thing was done, because Sander wasn’t an option either way. Oh, but still, boyfriend.

“My favorite food is shrimp. I’m not a fan of reading but I’m okay at studying when Yasmina’s there. I’m a prefect. Is that enough?”

Sande shook his head. “I need something not a lot of people know. Insider knowledge.”

Insider knowledge? There wasn’t much of that in Robbe’s head. He’d been pretty open with everyone, except the maybe liking boys thing, and he wasn’t ready to admit that to himself.

He didn’t like boys.

“I was the one who broke them up,” Robbe confessed. “Jens and Jana, I mean.” He didn’t know why he picked this specific piece of information out of everything in his head; it was just the most available. Maybe it would serve Sander better to know a dark secret. “I told people something I shouldn’t have, so… well, you know. On purpose. I think you should know that.”

Sander squinted at him. “Not a good secret keeper. Okay.”

Yells echoed from the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match outside, mostly profanity and the occasional creative insult. Robbe was a seeker on the Hufflepuff team, Jens a chaser, and Aaron an alternate beater. They had a game next week, and it would make a lot of sense for Sander to attend, given the circumstances of their relationship… There should be something more to say to each other right now. Sander seemed content to linger in the silence. He rested his head on the brick behind him and looked out across the Great Lake, glimmering in the sunlight.

“When does it end?” said Robbe, at the same time as Sander said, “It’s much nicer up here at night.”

Sander turned from the window. “You first.”

“Oh, no, you can—”

“You first.”

“Uh, okay.” Robbe wrung his hands and wiped them on his pantlegs. “I wanted to know when it ends. The whole fake-dating thing. Like, do we pick a time, or—”

“Oh, I know that. Given it some thought.” Sander ran a perfect hand through his perfect hair. Not perfect—wow, Robbe really had to stop thinking shit like that, about how perfect Sander was. Every time he snuck another glance, there was another little detail that made Sander that much more striking. “Britt will just jump back in the second you’re out of the picture. End of term’s only a month away. She lives too far to follow me home, so I think that’s our best bet.”

A whole month. A whole motherfucking month. Robbe didn’t know if the boys could handle the responsibility of something that lasted that long. He didn’t know if he had it in himself.

“Or until one of us finds someone better,” Sander added.

Maybe not a month.

Not much to say after that.

“My mother is sick,” Robbe tried. The hard-hitting stuff was better material, more trust-building. Yes, Sander could use it against him, but Sander didn’t strike him as that kind of person. “Sick in the head. It’s passed genetically, so if I don’t get it, my kids probably will. Is that enough?”

He took Sander’s lack of response as an affirmative.

Robbe counted to three hundred again on the windowsill before carefully getting down. Sander probably wanted to be left alone with his music, like he’d wanted last night. It would be rude to stick around, Robbe reasoned. And he didn’t have infinite free time. He needed to catch someone from his Potions class to get the notes if he was going to keep his outstanding.

“I’m off,” he announced. “You have detention at five.”

“I’m not sitting for that,” said Sander. Other students began to push their way up the stairs for their astronomy class. “I’m doing you a service.”

“Filch will see you then.”

Robbe headed to the left side of the staircase for the trip down, but Sander reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a smooth kiss. Like the lap of a wave on the shore. Robbe didn’t see Britt around. Noor would be her Charms class until five. He cast a passing glance at the students milling around the classroom doors, looking for someone Sander needed to convince.

“That one was for the fans,” said Sander. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“You’ll see me,” Robbe replied. He had to hide his face on the way to his next class so that Sander didn’t see the blush creeping up his cheeks.

[foreverfangirlalways]

Sander Sides High School Host Club

Sanders Sides OHSHC-

This is simply a bullet fic for a Sanders Sides version of Ouran High School Host Club. Everyone is Supernatural except for Virgil, and if y’all like it enough, I will turn it into a full fledged fic. Just let me know!!

-_-_-_-

Original Character= Sander Side -supernatural identity- tattoo that shows supernatural identity Haruhi=Virgil -human- ??? Tamaki=Janus -shapeshifter- dice surrounded by various shapes Kyouya=Logan -vampire- fangs with a moon and cross Hikaru=Patton -Cupid- bow&arrow w/ heart Kaoru=Emile -Siren- musical notes with emoji Hunny=Roman -fae- willow tree and red mushrooms Mori=Remy -sandman- hourglass combines with a sandstorm Renge=Remus -fae- willow tree and green mushrooms

-_-_-_-

~A bunch of freaking people talking loudly in a freaking library!~

Virgil – [Sigh] ~This place has four library rooms. You'd think one of them would be quiet.~

~How are things in heaven Andy? I can't believe it's been ten years already. I'm beginning to think that rich kids only come to school to have a good time.~

~An abandoned living room. I guess this is the only place I'll be able to study in peace and quiet.~

[Gets buried in an avalanche of petals]

Sides Host Club – "Welcome!"

Virgil– ~When I opened the door, I found the Host Club.~

Janus *background/narration/janus answer to Virgil’s ‘whaaa???’*– "Only those with excellent social standing, filthy rich families, and are supernatural creatures are lucky enough to spend their time here at the elite private school, Sides Academy. The Sides Host Club is where the school's handsomest boys, with too much time on their hands, entertain other handsome boys who also have way too much time on their hands. Just think of it as Sides Academy's elegant playground for the super-rich, supernatural, and beautiful."

Virgil – "This is a cult?"

Patton– "Oh wow, it's a new boy!"

Logan – "Patton, Emile, I believe this young man is in the same class as you, isn't he?"

Emile– "Yeah, but he's so shy and quite! He doesn't act very sociably, so we don't know much about him."

Logan – "Hm. Well, that wasn't very polite." "Welcome to the Sides Host Club, Mr. Honor Student."

Janus – "What? You must be Virgil Storm! You're the exceptional honor student we've heard about."

Virgil – "How did you know my name?"

Roman– "Why, you're infamous. It's not every day that a commoner gains entrance into our academy. You must have a lot of nerve to work hard enough to fight your way into this school as an honor student cutie."

Virgil– "Boi, excuse me?"

Janus – "You're excused. You're a hero to other poor people, Storm. You've shown the world that even a poor person can excel at an elite private academy. It must be hard for you to constantly be looked down upon by others."

Virgil– "Ahhh, you’re that type of asshole. I think you're taking this "poor" thing too far."

Janus – "Spurned. Neglected. But that doesn't matter now. Long live the poor! We welcome you poor man, to our world of beauty."

Virgil– "Bitch, bye. I'm outta here."

Patton– "Hey! Come back here BFF Virgil! You must be like a superhero or something. That's so cool!"

Virgil– "I'm not a hero. I'm an honor student. And who are you calling "BFF Virgil!?"

Janus – "I never would've imagined the famous scholar would be so openly gay."

Virgil – "Openly what? BITCH WE’RE ALL GAY! There are no girls at this school! It’s like, a requirement or something!"

Janus *not listening*– "So tell me what kind of guys you're into. Do you like the strong, silent type? Because we don’t have that. We have Remy instead.

Remy- “You got that right babes. Silence is weakness. That’s why I always be slurping Starbees! *siiiippppp*”

Janus- Then there’s the boy Lolita? That’s Pat and Em! How about the princely type, Roman, or the cool nerd type, Logan?"

Virgil– "None! I was just looking for a quiet place to study."

Janus – "Or maybe... You're into a guy like me. *winky winky nudge nudge* What do you say?"

Virgil– "I will slap you. Back away!"

~Joan enters to see what the club was up too, and hears a ‘crackboom’. He turns to the noise, and sees the club standing over his broken vase.

Joan- “BROOOOOOOO! No effin' way, dude! Who broke this vase? Who broke this vase? Seriously, guys. Everyone who's here at my awesome party... this huge crowd of people that's definitely here right now...”

Virgil- *Mumbling* “Oh my go- wait, are they drunk? Why are they talking like that?”

Joan- “Somebody broke my grandma's vase. And that was the last thing she gave to me... to sell for about 75 thousand dollars! I swear to all things football and/or skateboarding that I will find you. Don't make me cry these incredibly manly tears! Anyone can speak up here and be a part of this scene. Especially those of us who aren't imagined and are actually here on the stage.”

Janus, Logan, Patton, Emile, Roman, and Remy all facepalm.

Joan- “Like, not the people who are imagined to be here through means of suspension of disbelief.”

Logan- I do not understand theatre. Joan, you don’t have to practice your script right now! Besides, you literally watched Virgil break it.”

Joan- “True, but I was very convincing! Now, ima go, but y’all should have the new guy do indentured servitude or something, because that’s the typically way a teenager pays for breaking a vase. Bye!”

All- “Bye Joan!”

Virgil- *gulping and looking around the room*"Uh, I'm gonna have to pay you back."

Remy – "With what money? Babes, you can't even afford a school uniform."

Roman – "What's with that grubby outfit you've got on anyway?"

Virgil- “Hmm, don’t like you either asshat.”

Logan – "Well, what do you think we should do Janus?"

Janus– "There's a famous saying you may have heard Virgil, "When in Rome, you should do as the Romans do." Since you have no money, you can pay with your body!”

Virgil- *raises an eyebrow, flips him off, and moves to leave*

Logan- *grabbing Virgil’s arm and pulling him back* “He doesn’t mean like that! He means-“

Janus- * interrupting* “That means starting today, you're the Host Club's errand boi!"

(Scene change)

Virgil– ~I don't know if I can handle this Andy. I've been captured by a bunch of boys that are calling themselves a host club.~ [Indistinct chattering] Brian– "Um, Janus, what's your favorite song?"

Janus– "What song? The one that reminds me of you, of course."

Steve (the stove) – "I baked you a cake today. Would you like to taste it?"

Janus– "Only if you'll feed it to me darling."

Bill (the drill) – "Oh wow. You're so dreamy."

Chad – "May I have a word with you Janus?"

Janus and Bill – "Huh?"

Chad– "I've recently heard the Host Club is keeping a little kitten without a pedigree."

Janus– "I don't know if I'd call him that. Speak of the devil! Thanks for doing the shopping Count Woe-laf! Did you get everything on our list?"

Virgil– "What? If Roman can’t call me that neither can you. Now here’s your food."

Remy– "Hey, wait a minute, what is this?"

Virgil– "Just what it looks like. It's coffee."

Remy – "I've never seen this kind before. Is this Dunkin Donuts?"

Virgil – *rolling his eyes* "Holy fucking shit. It's just Krueger coffee pods. I even got Starbucks brand!”

Everyone– "It's coffee pods?"

Remy – "Whoa! I've heard of this before. It's commoners' coffee. You just place it into a machine."

Steve – "I didn't know there was such a thing."

Brian – "So it's true then. Poor people don't even have enough money to buy Starbucks from Starbucks!"

Chad – "Mm hmm!"

Virgil- “No, it’s just Starbucks coffee pods. For home. It’s convenient you preppy asshats.”

Logan– *winks* "Commoners are pretty smart and convenient."

Roman – "68 cents per pod?"

Patton – "That's a lot less than we normally pay!"

Virgil – "I'll go back and get regular Starbucks. Excuse me for not knowing y’all orders."

Remy – "No, I'll keep it."

Crowd – [Gasp]

Remy– "I'm going to give it a try."

Crowd – [Gasp]

Remy – "I will drink this coffee!"

Crowd – [Applause]

Remy – "Alright Virgil, get over here and make me some of this commoners' coffee."

Virgil– ~I hate all these damn rich people.~

Chad– "Oh Janus, Logan, now they’re taking the joke too far. His palate won't be able to stomach that crap. Y’all don't have to drink it just because he bought it."

Virgil- "With all do respect, what?"

Chad*verychadlike* – "I'm sorry. I was talking to myself."

Virgil– "Bitc-"

Emile– "Virgil!"

Virgil – "Eh, I'm comin'" "Here."

Remy – "Let the tasting begin."

Brian – "I'm a little scared to drink this stuff."

Jon – "I'm afraid if I drink this my father will yell at me."

Roman– "What if I let you drink it from my mouth?"

Jon – "Well then I would drink it."

Guys – [Squealing]

Virgil – ~This is ridiculous.~

(Scene change)

Emile– [Giggle] "So he had a cookie jar hidden in our room."

Patton– "Emile! Don't tell them that story. I asked you not to tell anyone that. Why are you so mean to me?"

Emile– "I'm sorry Patton."

Guys – [Gasp]

Emile – "I didn't mean to upset you, but you were so adorable when it happened, I had to tell them. I'm sorry."

Patton– "I forgive you."

Guys – [Squeal] "I've never seen roommate love quite like that."

Virgil– "What are they so excited about? I just don't get it."

Roman – [dramatic entrance] "Sorry, we're running late."

Jon – "Hello Roman. Hey Remy."

Apollo – "We've been waiting here for you guys, hi"

Roman– "I'm sorry. I was waiting for Remy to finish his party plans and I simply couldn’t leave a man behind! *wrapping his arms around Remy* especially not the handsomest prince in the world!"

Guys – [Gasp] "So cute!" [Giggling]

Virgil– "Is Roman really a prince?"

Logan – "Roman may seem dramatic, but he is a fae prince."

Virgil – "Really? Damn."

Logan– "And then Remy allure is he’s a sassy, coffee-addicted sandman."

Virgil- "Interesting... tell me more?"

Logan- “Well, Emile is a siren. Patton is a Cupid.”

Virgil-*suprised Pikachu face* “seriously?”

Patton– "Vergie!"

Virgil– [Yelp]

Patton– "Hey Virgie, do you want to go have some cookies with me?"

Virgil– "Thanks, but I don't really like cookies."

Emile– "Then how would you like to hold my Stitch?"

Virgil– "I'm not into stuffed animals."

Emile– "Don’t worry! Stitch isn’t a mere stuffed animal! You look stressed. Stitch is enchanted, he brings luck and happiness to the holder.”

Virgil– [Gasp] "Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt?"

Emile and Patton– [Gasp] *REALIZATION!* "Take good care of him, okay?" [Laugh]

Logan– "You'll notice that our club utilizes each man's unique characteristics to cater to the desires of our guests. Just so you know, Janus is number one around here. He's the king. Just don’t tell Roman. Janus’s request rate is 70%."

Virgil- "What's this world coming to? So, what is he?"

Logan- “Janus is a shapeshifter.”

Virgil- “Figures”

Logan– "And in order for you to pay off your 75 thousand dollar debt with us, you will act as the Sides Host Club's errand boy until you graduate. You can try to run away if you want to Virgil, but just so you know, I can find you anywhere you go. By the way, do you have a passport?"

Virgil – "Huh? What does that matter? And how could you find me? You never told me what you are."

Logan: “oh, of course. *smiles slowly, showing fangs.* “I’m a vampire.”

Virgil~eyes widened. Crap. Why does the one I like best have to be the most dangerous?~

Janus – "You're going to have to work hard to pay off that debt, my little emo." [Blow]

Virgil– [Hyperventilating] "Please don't do that again. Fight or flight, I will punch you."

Janus– "You need a makeover or no guys going to look twice at you."

Virgil – "You seem to be looking at me just fine. Besides, I’m not trying to get guys to look at me."

Janus– "Are you kidding me? That's the most important thing. You have to learn to be a gentleman and please the masses, like me."

Virgil– "I just don't think it's all that important."

Janus– "Hm?"

Virgil– "Why should I care about appearances and labels anyway? I mean, all that really matters is what's on the inside right? I don't understand why you even have a host club like this."

Janus– "It's a cruel reality, isn't it?

Virgil– [Grunt]

Janus– "It's not often that God creates a perfect person like moi, beautiful both inside and out."

Virgil– "And vein all around?"

Janus– "I understand how you feel since not everyone is blessed as I am, but you must console yourself. Otherwise how would you go on living? And think about this Virgil. Why do you think they put works of art in museums? Because beauty should be shared with the world, and those born beautiful should-“

Virgil-(~There's a word to describe people like him.~)

Janus- “promote other beautiful things. That's why I started this club in the first place. I did it for those who are-“

Virgil-(~Hmm. What is it?~)

Janus- “starved for beauty. For those working day and night, pursuing beauty. And although

Virgil-(~Aw man, I wish I could remember that word. Hmmm~)

Janus-“your looks may be average, and you have a few negative characteristics, I've chosen to share my expertise with you. Here's a tip. When setting down your glass, extend your pinky finger as a cushion, and that way when you set it down you won't be making a lot of noise. Gentlemen do not make loud sounds. Besides,” Virgil-(~"a pain in the neck"?~)

Janus-“a gentleman looks much more refined”

Virgil-(~No, there's something that fits him perfectly, better than that~)

Janus-“that way. I like to check my reflection.., but above all else ? Virgil, you must remember, how effective a glance to the side can be.”

Virgil- “Ha. I got it!”

Janus-“Oh, did I strike a chord?”

Virgil- You’re Obnoxious!"

Janus*sulking*

Virgil – "Uh, I'm sorry Janus. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings."

Roman and Remy– [Laugh]

Roman– "You're a hero alright."

Remy – "Uh-huh."

Virgil– ~But he is a pain in the neck.~ "I'm sorry Jan, but your lesson did strike a small chord with me."

Janus– "Really? It did? Let me teach you more, my friend."

Virgil– "Well, he got over that quick."

Janus- “Emile!”

Emile – "Boss?"

Janus– "Call me King."

Roman- “Nope, that’s me! Try again.”

Janus- “Fine. Call me Emperor Now where was I?”

Emile– “I think you were wanting to make Virgil a host. You can teach him all the basics of hosting..."

Patton– "But he's not going to get very far with the fellas if he doesn't look the part you know. HE NEEDS A MAKEOVER!!!"

Virgil– "I thought I already vetoed that?"

Roman– "Yes! Maybe if we moved his bangs out of his eyes it could help."

Virgil– "Hey! I happen to like bangs in my eyes! STEP AWAY FROM THE BRUSH! NO!!!"

Remy Attack Virgil with a hairbrush

Remy realization*

Logan– [Gasp] "Remy."

Remy – "Got it!"

Virgil– "Huh? Bitch what the hell is going on??" [Yell]

Roman– "Emile, what’s the number to my hairstylist?“

Patton – "What about me Lolo?"

Logan– "Patton."

Patton– "Yes sir!"

Logan– "You... go make some cookies."

Patton – "Ok! Virgil, what’s your favorite type of cookie?? You know what, I’ll just make them all!"

Remy – "Here! Change into this uniform."

Virgil– "What? Why?"

Remy– "Don't ask questions!"

Virgil– "No way! Screw you! You know what, I'll change, but you have to GET OUT!"

Remy – [Yell] [Stutter] "Huh?"

Logan– [Sigh]

(Scene change)

Virgil– "Um, guys?"

Janus– "Aren't you done changing yet?"

Logan– "Hmmm?"

Virgil– "You sure it's really okay for me to keep this uniform?"

Patton– "Cute! You're super pretty! Adorable!"

Emile– "Verge, you look so cute!"

Roman– "If we had known that's how you really look..."

Remy– "We would've helped you out sooner. You’re actually pretty hot..."

Logan– "Who knows? Maybe he'll draw in some customers. And I agree, he is extremely aesthetically appeasing."

Janus – "You know, that's just what I was thinking. Our errand boy is moving up the ranks. Starting today, you are an official member of the Host Club. I will personally train you to be a first-rate host. If you can get 100 customers to request your service, we will completely forget about your $75,000 debt."

Virgil – "A host? You people are fucking crazy. And I don’t want you to train me. You are an asshole."

Logan- “Janus? Do you mind if I train him? It could be educational.”

Janus- *slightly offended snake sounds* “If you can get the ungrateful, sassy, mean emo to agree, you can train him.”

Logan- “Virgil, can~”

Virgil- “I’ll let the hot nerd train me. I like him.”

Everyone looks between an extremely pleased Logan and a smug Virgil. ‘Interesting’

(Insert fluffy, flirty Analogical scene of Virgil learning how to be a ‘proper host’ and the others spying)

(Scene change)

Alfredo– "So, tell me Virgil. Do you have any hobbies? What do you like to do?"

Herbert– "I'm curious, what kind of products do you use on your skin?"

Boy(I’m running out of Thomas’s male character names)– "Yes, it's so pretty."

Virgil– ~I can't do this anymore. I’m sorry Logan, but I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. And these people are staring to get annoying. And invasive...~

Boys – "So why did you join the Host Club Virgil?" [Giggle]

Virgil– "Uh." ~All I have to do is get 100 customers to request me, and they'll forget about my $75,000 debt. I just have to seem interesting. Oh! I know just the story.~

(Words)

Alfredo – "I see, your brother was sick and passed away two years ago. Who do you bond with now?"

Virgil– "Oh, I‘m just kind of by myself now. My brother was my best friend and confidante, so I found it hard to make friends since he passed. Now all I have is my Uncle, but he is pretty great, and I have managed to make it through okay."

Herbert – "So uh..."

Boy – "Is it okay if tomorrow..."

Alfredo – "We request to sit with you again?"

Virgil– "Yeah, I'd really appreciate that guys. Y’all are great listeners, and I am interested to hear about y’all next time." *smirk*

Boys- [stifled shrieking]

Roman – "Why is he so popular?"

Logan– "He's a natural."

Janus– "Apparently he didn’t even need training."

Chad– "Have you forgotten about me?"

Janus – "Oh, no. Sorry prince. I'm just a little concerned about our newest host."

Chad – "Well that's obvious Jan. You and Logan sure have been keeping an eye on him."

Janus – "Of course. I have to. I need to make sure he a good host, and Logan is training him to be a gentleman."

Boys – [Giggling]

Janus – "Virgil! Come here for a minute."

Virgil– "What's up?"

Janus– "I'd like you to meet someone. This is my regular guest, Prince Chad."

Virgil– [Gasp] ~It's that asshole from earlier~ "Sir, it's a ‘absolute’ pleasure to meet you."

Janus – "That was so cute! That air of bashfulness was very good! Super good! Amazingly good!"

Chad – "Uh, Logan, what is happening?"

Logan– "Virgil is adorable, so Janus is trying to show affection and make Virgil like him better than me."

Virgil– "Roman! Save me!"

Janus – "Nope, mine now!"

Roman– *Whacks Janus with his sword and grabs Virgil bridal style* [Realization Gasp]

Janus– "Damn it Roman, you didn’t have to go that far. Come on little emo, let your best friend give you a big hug."

Virgil– "Ok. Patton! Janus says I need a hug."

Laughing and offended noises, then Patton jumping in Virgil arms for a giant hug. Guests are very amused, and Chad is very pissed

(Scene change)

Virgil-"Hey, what happened to my bag? [looks out window and sees bag in fountain] Uh, are you kidding me? How did that happen? I didn't think there were bullies at this school. I guess those asshats are everywhere. They’re like McDonalds."

Virgil runs towards the fountain

Chad – "Oh! It's you again. I bet you love having Janus and Logan making you over and fawning over you. It's useless though. You're always going to be a second-class citizen.”

Virgil – ~I bet my Tim Burton posters that he is the bastard that threw my bag in the fountain. I can't be bothered with him right now though. I've gotta find my wallet or I won't have any money for food this week.~

Remy– "Hey, tiny emo! You've got some nerve skipping out on the club like that. Why is your bag all wet?"

Virgil– "It's no big deal. I got it. I just can't find my food money."

Remy– "Hm?"

[jumps into the fountain after taking off his sunglasses]

Virgil– "Hey, you don't have to do that. You'll get wet. And why the hell did you only take off your sunglasses? That does nothing!"

Remy – "A little water never hurt anyone. Besides, people are always telling me that I'm dripping with good looks. Oh, hang on a second. This what you're looking for? What's the matter, you're staring off into space. Ooo! Please tell me your falling for me. Because Logan is gonna be pissed! "

Virgil– "No way!"

Remy– "How did your bag end up in the fountain anyway?"

Virgil– "Well uh, I guess I accidentally dropped it out the window at some point."

(Scene change)

Chad – "Oh really? That must've been terrible. I can't imagine what I'd do if my bag fell into the fountain."

Virgil – ~Why did he request me when it's obvious he doesn't like me? He has a plan. Ima end up decking this guy...~

Chad– "And you actually made Remy search that dirty old thing with you. How astonishing! You do realize he's a blueblood and not a commoner, right? The only reason any of them are paying attention to you is because they’re trying to turn you into a gentleman."

Virgil– [Gasp] ~Dis bitch wanna get punched ~

Chad– "Don't start thinking he cares about you just because he's doting on you."

Virgil– "Now I understand. You're jealous of me."

[grabs Virgil’s arm and yanks to where Virgil knocks the table over and lands on top of Chad]

Chad – [Scream] "No, Virgil! Leave me alone! Somebody help, he just attacked me!"

Virgil– "Bitch please."

Chad– "Somebody do something! Teach this commoner a lesson!"

[Emile and Patton dump water on the two]

Virgil– "Honestly, what the fuck is with you guys?"

Chad – "Why did you do that? Do something, Janus. Virgil just assaulted me."

Janus – "I'm disappointed in you. You threw his bag into the fountain, didn't you?"

Chad – "You don't know that. Do you have any proof that I did?"

Remy- “Yeah, babes, we got proof. It’s called we’re not fucking stupid. Or blind.”

Logan– "You know, you're a handsome guy, but you aren't classy enough to be our guest. If there's one thing I know, Virgil is not that kind of a man."

Chad– "But, why? You are all idiots!" [Cry]

Janus– "Hmmm... Now how am I going to punish you? Because it is your fault after all. Your quota is now 1000!"

Virgil– "Huh? 1000? My fault? Why yo-"

Patton– "Come on. I got high expectations for you, kiddo!"

Virgil– "Really?"

Emile– "Yep! This is the only spare uniform we have. Sorry, but it's better than a wet one, right?"

Virgil– "Thanks a lot you guys. I'm gonna go change."

(Scene change)

Janus – "Virgil, here you go. I brought you some towels."

Virgil– [Gasp] “Please get the hell out!”

Janus blanches and leaves

Virgil walks out in the uniform that shows ones supernatural identity tattoo. It shows off storm clouds and lightning, a rare tattoo but one that’s signifies humanity.

Janus– "Virgil."

Virgil– "Yeah?"

Janus– "So, you're a human?"

Virgil– "No shit Sherlock, yeah. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Janus– “No! I think you are awesome even if you’re human. Who else knows?”

Logan, Patton, Emile, Remy, and Roman all raise their hands

Janus-[Scream]

Virgil– "Listen guys, I don't really care whether you recognize me as a human or not. In my opinion, it's more important for a person to be recognized for who they are rather than for what supernatural identity you have."

Everyone nods

Virgil– ([Stammering]) "Uh, you know, I have to say Logan, I thought you were pretty cool earlier."

Logan– [Stammering]

Virgil *blushing*- “Logan, I know that you figured it out as soon as you saw me. Thank you for not saying anything, that was very cool of you.”

Logan *also blushing* -“Ah, umm, ehh, it is no problem. You’re welcome.”

Emile, nudging Patton and both giggling– "Well isn't this an interesting development?"

Roman and Remy – "Oh, yeah."

Janus – "Now, I could be wrong but I think we may be witnessing the beginnings of love here. Can’t believe that nerd stole the hot emo right out from under me with words. Ssssssssuck up!"

Patton- “Janus, kiddo, your name isn’t Jealous.”

Remy- “Yeah! Calm thy snaktitties.”

Roman- “Snake tits. Snake titties. Snitties.”

Roman and Remy- “OH MY GOSH SNITTIES!”

Emile- “Common guys. We are not a love to hate tumblr post.”

Roman and Remy- *chanting* “SNITTIES, SNITTIES, SNITTIES, SNITT-“

Janus- *chasing Roman and Remy around with a broom* “SAY IT ONE MORE DAMN TIME!”

Virgil- “You know, this might be fun, I actually enjoy being a Host...”

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