#oh yeah ill add the patton tag hold on

[peachie-bun]

hmm. trying to decide if i like the ending of this chapter i wrote bc it gives a bit of insight into patton's backstory and why they regress (it's a short fic abt patton (who uses they / them pronouns) finding out what age regression is) or if it feels too random and weird for the story and i should take it out.. decisions decisions,,,

[candied-peach]

ao3: “the best medicine” rating: T warnings: food, sickfic, sympathetic deceit, age regression, dlamp genre: fluff description: logan knows what to do when his caregivers are sick. ...right? (anon prompt: “ When their cg(s) is/are sick, lil Ro and L try to make "potions" (L insists that it's medicine) out of whatever drinks they can find (usually juices, teas, and occasionally milk) (I had dlamp in mind but again, up to you!)”)

Logan's brow furrows in concentration as he pours a generous splash of milk into the glasses in front of him. It's hard to pour, but he uses both hands on the carton, and accomplishes it without spilling a drop.

"What's next, Lo Lo?" Roman questions anxiously. Logan nibbles his bottom lip as he thinks.

"Orange juice," he decides with a confidence he does not quite feel. "It has vitamin C in it, I think. That's good for bein' sick." He fervently hopes he's right as Roman ferries the milk back to the refrigerator.

Not one, not two, but all three of their caregivers have fallen ill (well, Virgil isn't quite a caregiver, but he will watch over them if Patton and Deceit aren't available, so Logan decides he counts, if only by proxy). Thomas himself is sick, and it seems to have taken Virgil, Patton, and Deceit hostage.

Thus, Logan and Roman deciding to make some medicine. He knows he's not allowed in the bathroom cabinet by himself, but they've never forbidden him access to the kitchen. Besides, this time, he isn't trying to sneak some Crofters into his room, he's trying to make them well. Intent has to count for something, doesn't it?

"Here," Roman says, panting as he holds up the orange juice container. It's heavy, one of the gallon ones, and Logan can feel the muscles in his arms straining as he splashes in a good dose of orange juice into each glass, too.

"Do you know how to make tea?" He asks Roman. "Tea's good. It's warm for your throat, 'specially with honey." Roman's face falls as he shakes his head. Logan's brow scrunches again in thought.

"I've got it!" He says triumphantly, nearly spilling the orange juice all over himself. "Iced tea's gotta be almost the same, right? It's not warm, but we'll just add extra honey."

"That's a good idea!" Roman says, beaming. It is the work of a few moments before iced tea with several spoonfuls of honey carefully makes its way into the three glasses stood on the counter top. Logan pauses in thought, tapping his chin with one finger.

"It needs more," he decides.

"Apple juice?" Roman suggests. Logan tilts his head.

"Maybe," he says. "But I dunno. Dee Dee never lets us have too much juice..."

"Oh yeah," Roman says. He perks up a second later. "Crofters! You could put Crofters in it! It's 'kay if it's for medicine, isn't it? It's almost like honey." Logan regards Roman in wide-eyed wonder.

"Yes!" He cheers. "Logan's Berry flavor, so it's extra good." He climbs up on the counter, retrieving the coveted jam from its position on the shelf. Roman hands him a spoon when he's done and he delivers a generous spoonful to each glass, saving an extra spoonful for himself.

"Now it's time to stir," Logan says, grabbing two clean spoons- one for him and one for Roman. They stir vigorously, blending the milk, juice, iced tea, honey, and jam together into something that looks-

Well, it certainly looks medicinal, Logan thinks.

As the one who's nominally older, he has the honor of carrying in two glasses, one in each hand. Roman grabs the last, holding it tight in both hands.

"Babies, what's this?" Patton asks from his position on the couch, struggling not to cough. Dee lifts his head from a cocoon of blankets, smiling weakly at the pair of them. Virgil's eyes are closed as he slumps in his chair, also swaddled in blankets, thanks to Patton.

"We made you medicine," Logan answers proudly, handing Patton and Deceit their glasses. Roman shoves his glass in Virgil's hands.

"Thank you," Deceit says, eyeing it. "Er- what is it?"

"Milk, orange juice, iced tea, honey, 'n Crofters," Logan says, beaming. He thinks Dee looks a bit paler at the recitation, but he can't be sure.

"That sounds...delightful, sweetheart," Patton says.

"That's one word for it," Virgil mutters. Patton shoots him a look that Logan can't quite interpret. "I mean, yeah," Virgil says hastily.

"Well?" Logan asks, bouncing on his tiptoes. "Aren't you gonna drink it? You have to take your medicine if you wanna get better."

"You know, I can think of even better medicine," Dee says, unwrapping one end of his blanket and motioning toward Logan. "Logan cuddles!" Logan giggles and runs up to Deceit, cuddling the snake-like side.

"Me, too," Virgil says quickly. "Ro Ro cuddles sound the best!" Roman catapults himself into the chair, burying his face in Virgil's neck.

"Well, I guess I still have uh, my medicine," Patton says, eyeing his glass. He lifts it to his mouth, taking a tiny sip. "Not that bad!" He proclaims.

"Really?" Logan asks, excited. Patton smiles warmly.

"Really," he promises. "You and Roman did an excellent job. Thank you."

Logan beams.

"Your turn," Logan says impatiently, poking Dee in the shoulder.

"In a bit," Dee says. "I want more cuddles first." Logan considers this, watching Patton take another tiny sip.

"Okay," he says, relaxing into Deceit's lap. "But then you take your medicine!"

"Then I take my medicine," Deceit agrees.

"And no fingers crossed behind your back," Logan warns crossly.

"I would never," Deceit says.

Behind his back, where Logan can't see, his fingers are firmly crossed.

tag list: @k9cat @i-wanna-be-m-e @paravigilant-virgil @croftersgamer @airiervessel @bexxbeauty @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @yalltookmyurlideas @matthindavick @killjoy-3000

[max-is-tired]

“Oh god, I need a drink” with Sleeplogical :D, se vuoi Dad

Pairing: Sleeplogical

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Remy Sanders, Roman Sanders

Words: 617

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, one of the characters is drunk -nothing happens tho, spiked punch

Notes: I’ve written this while laughing my ass off, just so you know.

Hit me up if you want to be added to the taglist and let me know if you liked this, reblogs, comments and asks are always very welcome and much appreciated!

(also someone pls tell me why I can’t add tags while answering asks from my laptop, I’m three seconds away from flipping everything out of the window)

“Virgil.”

Said man looks up from his phone, one single eyebrow raised as he takes in the other’s flushed face and glassy eyes. Welp, it’s not even been an hour since the Christmas party started and it looks like someone already managed to spike the punch. Fucking great.

“Yes L?” Virgil asks, arming himself with all of his already thinned-out patience.

“I need to tell you something,” Logan slurs, basically throwing himself onto the couch beside his friend, “but it is a- a secret so you cannot tell the others, ok?”

Virgil chuckles, amused despite himself. “not even Patton?”

“Not even Patton,” the other insists, almost in a childish manner -and boy if seeing that kind of expression on Logan’s face doesn’t make it very hard for Virgil to not burst out laughing right there and then, “Promise V, promise me.”

“Okay, okay,” Virgil chuckles, “so, what did ya want to tell me?”

“I suspect I’ve come across a rather prob- probl-” Virgil watches in growing amusement as Logan’s face scrunches up in concentration, the alcohol in his system fogging his mind and inhibiting his articulating capabilities, “something that causes me to worry, yeah.”

“And what would that be, Specs?”

“I think, I think I’m falling ill,” Logan reveals, “My heart rate quickens randomly, I feel myself flushing, my stomach gets all funny all of a sudden and my thoughts get all jumbled and weird.”

“Well, that certainly is… concerning,” Virgil concedes, metaphorical gears turning in his head as a growing suspicion makes his way in his mind.

“And you want to know what the weirdest thing is?” Logan keeps going, frustratingly throwing his arms in the air, “All of these symptoms tend to appear and intensify when Remy is present!”

Oooooh boy, this is actually happening. Why is Virgil’s life like this again?

Logan, completely oblivious to his friend’s internal groaning, keeps going with his angry mumbling. “Stupid Remy with his stupid coffee addiction and his stupid eyes and stupid smile and stupid flirting and stupid, stupid laugh-”

“Nope!” Virgil suddenly exclaims, stopping Logan’s drunk ramble and abruptly standing up, “nope, not doing this, I am so not equipped for this shit.”

Completely fed up, he grabs Logan’s arm and forces him to his feet, ignoring the other’s affronted sputtering. Without saying a word, Virgil quickly crosses the room, stops in front of Roman and Remy -who seem to be invested into an heated debate about some new gossip thing, Virgil sure as hell doesn’t care- and basically launches Logan into Remy’s arms -and almost sends the both of them on the floor because Remy’s reflexes are absolute shit.

“Your crush, your problem,” Virgil states, before turning on his heels and walking away, “I need a fucking drink.”

Remy watches as the other walks away, completely dumbfounded as he still holds Logan’s rather pliant body. It’s a muffled giggle that distracts him, coming -surprisingly enough- from the boy in his arms.

“Uh, Logan?” he calls, kinda worried, “are you good, gurl?”

Logan looks up, cheeks aflame and eyes shining in a way that absolutely doesn’t make Remy flush bright red, no gurl. “Hi Remy,” he says, still giggling, glasses sitting crookedly on his nose and a big smile on his face.

Yup, totally not blushing, Roman stop cackling your ass off right the fuck now.

“Looks like someone spiked the punch,” Roman points out between fits of laughter, enjoying the whole thing immensely. Remy looks down, taking in the giggling, very drunk and very adorable mess of a nerd still holding onto his chest for dear life, and finds himself trapped in an endless cycle of internal screaming.

This is going to be a long night.