#queerplatonic losleep

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

You Keep Saying You’re Broken (I’m Telling You We’re Beautiful)

Ao3

Summary: Logan loved someone. That wasn’t important. What was important was that he didn’t love them enough. Remy seems to think he’s got the two backwards. Content: Magic AU, nonbinary!Remy, aroace!Logan + aroace!Remy, internalized aphobia, tiny bit of swearing, h/c, happy ending Pairing: Friends-to-qpps losleep

    It didn’t work.

    It didn’t work, again, didn’t do what it was supposed to, and he had been so careful this time, he knew it was right, knew he hadn’t messed up, and yet nothing was happening and it had failed so he had failed and-

    Someone was knocking on his door.

    Logan ignored them in favor of the pounding in his head that was quickly taking over all his hearing facilities. The vial he had been holding dropped limply to the ground, rolling away from him; the photo fell too and drifted away from him as well. He pressed his now free hands against the desk in front of him, trying to brace himself, to steady himself before he fell over and joined everything else on the floor.

    “Logan?” A much too familiar voice called out. “You in there?”

    No. No no no- not them, anyone else but them-

    The door pushed open, the cause of all his problems but not the source of them peeking their head into the room, looking around. “Hey, I know you’re big on privacy, babe, but I- Lo?”

    He couldn’t hide. They were right there and he was right here, out in the open, and Remy’s expression was starting to become one of concern and despite the fact that he was looking at them- actually looking at them, not just a photo now- Logan still didn’t feel different, didn’t feel changed, didn’t feel his heart soar or his chest burn or anything of the like, didn’t feel anything everyone always said they felt like when they were in-

    “Lo, is something wrong?” Remy asked, breaking him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to Remy, who had taken a few steps into his room and cocked their head in confusion. “You’re looking a little… off.”

    Logan cleared his throat. He could do this. All he had to do was convince Remy he was fine and get them to leave so that he could try again and maybe actually get it right this time.

    “I am adequate.” Logan started, and he was proud of himself for how level his voice sounded. “Apologies for worrying you, however- is there something I can assist you with?”

    “You’ve been in your room a while. I just wanted to check in.” Remy said, still looking mildly concerned. “You sure you good, hun? You’re a little pale.”

    “Simply a side effect of lots of hard working.” Logan answered. “But I assure you, I am doing just fine.”

    Remy frowned. “If you say so… still, you shouldn’t be working that much. Come take a walk with me, yeah, clear your head a bit?”

    Logan shook his head in negation before Remy had even finished their sentence. “While that sounds very pleasant, Remy, I really am quite busy- can’t be distracted while my work’s at such a crucial juncture-”

    As Logan spoke, Remy’s frown quickly morphed into a smile. “I knew it.”

    “Hm?”

    “I knew it!” Remy repeated, moving past Logan to get a better look around his room. “You’re experimenting again. Something real dangerous if you don’t want me to know about it- have you finally tried your hand at artificial dragon fire? For all you mock my version of it I’m sure you’ve quickly realized it’s not nearly as easy to make as the books say it is-”

    “I’m not experimenting!” Logan cut them off, trying to sound indignant and not panicked. If Remy went looking too long they might find his supplies. “And I really do have work to do, so if you could kindly-”

    “Sorry, babes, but you can’t fool me.” Remy said, still looking. “You were always a terrible liar- you know that?- absolutely horrible, never could keep your… work a secret… Logan, what’s this?”

    Logan turned from where he had been glaring at his desk to look at Remy. The moment he saw what they were holding, his breath caught in his throat and he froze.

    The vial.

    The vial he had been using for his experiment.

    The vial that still had traces of his latest attempt staining the inside of it.

    Remy pushed their sunglasses up on top of their head, honey-brown eyes full of worry and the beginnings of fear now on display. “Logan.” They repeated, voice sounding slightly shaky. “Why is the vial empty?”

    Logan didn’t answer them, instead remaining stock still in place, hands still planted on the desk behind him to make sure his now much more wobbly legs didn’t give out on him. 

    “You drank it.” Remy guessed, the conclusion they had likely come to first only confirmed by Logan’s refusal to explain the vial’s emptiness. “And you’re hiding it so it must be bad- Logan, what did you drink?!”

    Still no response.

    Remy nodded. “Alright, you’re not going to tell me, either because you’re stubborn or it’s a side effect- damnit Logan you’re so pale- sit down, please, before you fall down.”

    Logan didn’t react to what Remy said, still trying to get past the mental shock that was ‘Remy’s going to find out and they’re going to stop you and your experiments and you will have failed them and yourself and it’s all over now just because you couldn’t hide your supplies-’

    He was dragged out of his thoughts by the sudden, but not unpleasant, feeling of hands gently grabbing his arms, tugging him away from where he was leaning against the desk and moving him to sit in his chair instead.

    “There we go.” Remy was murmuring, voice still sounding worried and afraid, but gentler now, likely an attempt to keep Logan from falling completely into a panic attack. “Now come on, hey, it’s okay, don’t look away, let me see those pretty eyes.”

    Logan’s attempt to keep his eyes downcast and focused on his lap was thwarted by Remy gently taking his chin and lifting it up, looking carefully at not only his eyes but his whole face. They were mumbling under their breath, and after a moment, Logan realized what they were doing- trying to categorize Logan’s symptoms to figure out what he had taken.

    That conclusion was enough to make Logan at least try to stand up, to move, get away until the symptoms were gone and his experiment hidden, but Remy just moved one of their hands to rest at Logan’s hip and hold him steady.

    “I know you probably think I’m babying you, Lo, but I need to figure out what stupid thing you took.” Remy chastised lightly, the hand on Logan’s chin moving to take his wrist instead, counting the pulse. “I know I don’t exactly set the best example for this sort of thing, but you really can’t just go around drinking potions- especially if you’re not an actual alchemist. What were you thinking?”

    “Nothing.” Logan managed to mumble. “I wasn’t thinking anything because it’s nothing- really, Remy, I’m fine, this is unnecessary-”

    “Mhmm. No offense, sweetheart, but I call bullshit on that.” Remy responded. “If it was nothing, you wouldn’t have tried to hide it from me. And you definitely have symptoms- your pulse is racing, your pale and shaking but your cheeks are still a bright red, your eyes are normally blue but right now they’re brown…”

    Remy trailed off, their eyes widening in understanding, and Logan pretended there was a chance they had come to a wrong conclusion. “What is it?”

    “Logan… why the hell were you drinking love potion?” Remy asked instead, frowning in confusion. In response, Logan looked away.

    Of course they had figured it out. Logan knew they would, knew Remy was too smart to miss it, to mix it up for something else, but that didn’t change the fact that he wished they hadn’t, hadn’t figured it out and put it down to Logan’s nerves and left him alone for the day to try again and this time get it right.

    Remy didn’t force Logan to face them, instead just quietly sighing. “Don’t move.” They ordered lightly. “I’m going to get my bag.”

    They sprinted out of the room after that, and Logan once more looked forward, looking at the door they had left open. He had half a mind to get up and close it, jam his chair beneath the knob and get back to his work, but he doubted that would last long before Remy broke the door down. He also doubted if he had enough strength- physical and mental- to get up and block Remy out.

    The choice was made for him quickly enough anyways, Remy returning before Logan could even test if his legs would support him enough to stand. They were ruffling through their brown satchel, soon enough throwing it aside as they pulled out a roll of chalky white discs.

    They offered one of the discs to Logan. “Eat this.” They instructed, pressing it into Logan’s hand when he didn’t immediately take it. Logan just held it for a moment, squeezing it pointlessly between his fingers, but Remy’s waiting stare was unrelenting and he gave into it soon enough. The taste of the disc was abysmal, but it dissolved quickly enough, and he swallowed it down as soon as he could.

    “Give that about five minutes and the majority of your symptoms should be gone.” Remy said quietly. “And while we wait for those minutes to pass, you can tell me why you were making and self-administering love potion.”

    Logan half-shrugged and looked at his lap. “I am my own person, I can make and self-administer whatever potions I should please at my own will.”

    “When it makes sense, maybe.” Remy responded. “But love potion? People use that to trick their crushes into liking them. Or to prepare themselves for a disastrous but necessary arranged marriage. Now, unless you have a future spouse I hadn’t been informed of-”

    “I don’t.”

    “-I don’t see any reason for you to have been taking this stuff.” Remy finished. “Care to enlighten me?”

    “It doesn’t matter.” Logan answered instead, shaking his head. “The potion didn’t work. I made it wrong. It doesn’t matter.”

    Remy raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Great stalling tactic but-”

    “I’m not stalling.” Logan snapped, the result of pent of stress and the desire for Remy to leave so he could get back to his work. He felt bad about his tone immediately, though, sighing as he softened it. “It really didn’t work, Rem.”

    At this, Remy frowned, looking between Logan and the vial. After a moment, they (to Logan’s shock and mild horror) put the vial to their lips and managed to convince a few spare drops to slide down into their mouth.

    “What are you doing?” Logan hissed, watching as Remy closed their eyes and swished the few drops around in their mouth. Remy didn’t respond for a moment, busy tasting the love potion. Finally, they swallowed.

    “Don’t worry about it, hun, I’m immune to most potions by now.” Remy told him, looking into the vial in bewilderment. “Though this one is really throwing its hat into the ring to try and disprove that- I don’t know how you got the idea that this thing is ineffective considering it’s a few more drops of hollybreath strain away from stopping your heart instead of exciting it. No wonder you’re shaking so badly.”

    “So… you’re saying it should’ve worked?”

    “To be frank, I’m not sure how it couldn’t have.” Remy answered, gingerly setting the vial down on Logan’s desk. “I’m a little surprised I don’t have to pin you down to stop you from running off to your new boo… what were you looking at when you drank this, anyways?”

    Though Logan heard Remy’s question, he didn’t answer it, instead once more turning his attention to his lap as his thoughts ran wild. The potion had worked. Hell, Remy said it was too strong, which meant at least some of the potions before must have worked too… but they didn’t. None of them had done what they said on the tin, none of them had made him fall in love. Not really, anyways, since there was no burning heart or sudden desire- there was just the same soft, impossibly warm sort of feeling in his gut that let him know he felt something, but not love, not really, just-

    Logan jerked out of his thoughts when Remy snapped their fingers in front of his face, Remy frowning, worry laced in their entire expression. “Earth to Logan? Darling, you know I love seeing your big brain in action, but I’d be lying if it wasn’t putting me a bit on edge right now. What’re you thinking about in there?”

    Barely a thought as to how to respond had crossed Logan’s mind before he was blurting out, “I’m broken.”

    Remy blinked. “Nope. Don’t like that. Your brain rights are being revoked. No thinking for you if you’re going to think wrong.” Remy said, light words contrasted by a distressed tone. “Honey, darling, sweetheart, why do you think you’re broken?”

    “Because the potions didn’t work.” Logan said miserably, too tired to try and backtrack or explain it away as anything other than what it was. “I thought I had been making them wrong, not adding enough of something, so I kept remaking them and trying again but none of them worked and I just thought the potions were wrong but it was me, I was wrong, the only same variable of course it was me-”

    “Logan, sweetie, please slow down.” Remy cut him off, placing their hands on Logan’s shoulders and running them lightly over his arms. “You’re not making sense. How many of these potions have you been taking?”

    “Three or four, I don’t know.” Logan said indifferently. “But it doesn’t matter, because they didn’t work-”

    “That’s not possible.” Remy said with a frown. “That love potion was strong, sugar, there’s no way you could’ve resisted it unless you had some sort of personal mutation against it- and your eyes changed colour, so I know you don’t. And if you’re telling me you drank more than one... the love potions had to have worked, Lo.”

    Logan shook his head. “No, they didn’t; I know they didn’t, I don’t feel any different, nothing’s changed-”

    “That means you’re already in love, darling.” Remy said gently. “Whoever you’ve been trying to fall in love with- you already love them. The potion can’t give you feelings you already have- no wonder you feel the same, you are the same. Not broken. Just already in love.”

    “That’s the problem!” Logan exclaimed, frustrated, curling his fists together and digging the nails into the skin, closing his eyes as well. “I’m- I love but I- but not enough, not right- the potion was supposed to fix that and- and it didn’t because I’m so fucking broken nothing can fix it-”

    “Please don’t say that.” Remy pleaded, one hand moving from Logan’s arm to cup his cheek. “You’re not broken at all, honey, but I don’t know why you think you are, and that’s worrying me. You’re worrying me. What’s gotten into your head?”

    Logan didn’t respond immediately, opening his eyes only to look unseeingly at his pants, trying to ignore Remy’s searching, troubled expression. “I love someone.” He admitted quietly.

    “...Okay. That’s okay.”

    “But I don’t-” Logan paused, struggling with his words, “I don’t want to kiss them. Or- or make-out with them, or have sex with them, or anything like that-”

    “That’s okay.” Remy repeated. “I don’t want to kiss anyone or have sex with anyone either. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

    “No, I-” Logan froze, processing what Remy had said, looking up at them in confusion. “What?”

    Remy smiled just a little. “Kissing’s weird. Sex is yucky. They’re not really my scene. Does that mean there’s something wrong with me?”

    “I- wha- of course not.” Logan said, stumbling over his words but still sure of them.

    “Then- surprise!” Remy said, their smile growing a bit bigger. “You’re not broken either.”

    “But the potions-”

    “-make you fall in love as fully as you can.” Remy finished for him. “If you don’t like sex or kissing or romance or any of that, you won’t suddenly start feeling those feelings because you drank the potion. You’re not broken for not feeling those things. Just human. Why would you try to force yourself to feel like that?”

    “Y- the person I love, they… they deserve all my love.” Logan said, hoping Remy would ignore his obvious slip of tongue. “Before I told them I- I wanted them to have all my love; they deserve to have all my love.”

    Remy’s smile turned sympathetic. “Whoever this person you love is… you love them a lot, don’t you? Want them to be happy?”

    “Of course.”

    “Then you love them enough. Hell, you probably love them more than enough.” Remy told him. “Love isn’t parts- it isn’t one third sex and one third romance or anything like that. If you love them, you love them completely. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.”

    Logan didn’t respond to that, choosing to just look up instead, finding Remy’s eyes watching him closely and warmly.

    “Hun.” Remy said, tone lightly teasing. “Do you want to tell me who you were trying to ‘fall more in love with’ or should I guess?”

    Logan remained quiet, meeting Remy’s gaze evenly, not sure if he’d prefer for them to guess or just drop the matter entirely. Remy just kept smiling, looking much too amused.

    “Guessing it is, then.” Remy said delightedly. They moved, pushing Logan a bit to the side as they sunk down into the chair next to them, the hand that had been cupping his cheek slipping around his shoulder.

    “You don’t have to do this-”

    “I bet they’re really pretty.” Remy began, ignoring Logan. “Not as pretty as you, of course, but no one’s that pretty so it’s an unfair comparison. And I’mma say they have to be at least a little smart to get your attention given how absolutely brilliant you are-”

    “Remy!”

    “-and I know they have brown eyes because of the love potion, and I have a random suspicion that they’re an alchemist- though that one’s just a hunch- and I really have the feeling that for your cheeks to be as bright red as they are right now they must be very close to you indeed.”

    Logan didn’t need to touch his cheek to know it was, in fact, burning, but he still did, glaring at Remy when their words were only confirmed. “I hate you.”

    “Doubtful.” Remy responded cheerily. “In fact, cutie, I think you looooove me.”

    Logan groaned. “This. This is why I didn’t tell you sooner.”

    “Wrong again.” Remy said, leaning in to rub their nose against Logan’s before leaning their forehead against his. “I think you didn’t tell me because you were harboring under the horribly false idea that you having a brain and realizing that kissing and sex were overrated made you an unsuitable partner. But that’s okay. I’m going to prove you wrong about all of that.”

    Logan smiled at that, reaching over to take Remy’s free hand and run his thumb over the back of it. “How’d you guess?”

    Remy grinned. “My photo was next to the vial.”

    “...Oh.”

    “Thought you had just dropped it or something. Once I realized what you had been chugging I realized why it was really there.” Remy told him. “I didn’t mention it straight away because I didn’t want you to distract me from why you were trying to fall in love with me.”

    Logan nodded. “Yeah… I’m sorry, again, for that Remy, I just-”     “You loved me?”

    “I loved you.” Logan echoed. “Love you. And you deserve so much love, more than I felt I was offering-”

    “Hey-hey-hey, enough of that, now.” Remy said, cutting Logan off gently. “You don’t need to apologize to me, love. I know what you were trying to do, and I appreciate the effort- in theory. But I also need you to know that I love you. You and your big brain and cute face and geeky personality.” Remy freed their hand from Logan’s so that they could brush back some of Logan’s hair, tucking it behind his ear. They smiled as they looked at him, expression sappy in a way Logan really felt should be illegal. “You are magnificent to me, Lo. If I’m lucky enough to get any of your love, in whatever form it may take, I promise you, it’s plenty more than enough.”

    Logan blushed even harder than he had been, which was impressive given up until that moment he didn’t think he could do that. “I- I… I think you’re magnificent too.”

    Remy grinned. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. You look so cute when you’re flustered- and calling me magnificent back, oh, my dear darling starshine, you really are too sweet to be real.”

    Logan squeaked. Remy just laughed.

    “See, this?” Remy asked, leaning in and pressing a quick little kiss to the tip of Logan’s nose before pulling back and watching him turn redder. “This is why I love you.”

    “...I love you too.” Logan said, trying to act annoyed and be sullen but failing miserably in the sense that so long as Remy was looking at him like that- like he had hung the moon and painted the sunrise- he really couldn’t be anything other than a blushing, smiling, giddy mess. A love-stricken mess.

    “There you go.” Remy said happily, shifting so that their arms were wrapped loosely over Logan’s shoulders and around his back in an odd, yet comforting, sort of hug. Once more their forehead leaned against Logan’s, their eyes close and bright with excitement and joy and love as they looked at him. “That sounds like enough love to me, don’tcha think?”

    And with Remy’s eyes still on him, their expression so open and their smile so earnest as they held him close and made him feel warm both inside and out, Logan didn’t have any choice but to smile back, just as lovingly, and answer, “Yeah. I think it’s enough.”

[siren1song]

Logan wasn't known necessarily for his ability to communicate his emotions.

He preferred working with facts, numbers, absolutes that could be proven without a doubt not just to himself but to others as well.

But as much as he claimed preferring numbers, he had feelings as well.

Logan felt a lot of things. And he felt them intensely.

For example when he was with them. Their sarcastic and dry humor that made Logan laugh despite his best efforts not to. Or their sleepy, tired hums of acknowledgement when he'd talk about (no, Logan did not ramble, thank you) his project early in the morning.

Or when they were distracted and they'd lean up against him. Like now, with their their torso pressed against his back while their thumb flew over their phone screen, either texting someone or looking up information.

Knowing them, they were looking up a meme to send someone.

Logan felt emotions swell in his chest, overwhelming him until they were bubbling up his throat threatening to choke him, drown him in them until he figured out an outlet to drain them.

"I love you."

Their thumb froze in place, and then Remy was moving, pulling themselves off of his back, leaving a terrifying chill in their place and he had to fight back a whine because that was undignified. Didn't matter that he craved their contact like flora craved water.

"Hello? Sweets, you in there babe?"

Logan was suddenly, painfully aware that he'd been so caught up mourning the loss of their contact he'd missed what they said.

"Seeing as how I cannot possibly leave my own body, I'd say so."

Remy lifted an eyebrow, the brown interrupted by a clear line before ending at the corner (an eyebrow scar, they'd called it) visible above their shades.

Logan almost wished he could see their eyes, get lost in the pale brown, the color of ice coffee full of cream. They were sensitive to light though, and Remy rarely took off their glasses unless they were about to go to bed.

"You know what I meant, hon. That was one'a the expressions we worked on when we first met. Now, you wanna tell me what brought on the love business?"

Logan ignored the heat rising to his face, watching Remy's for a moment.

"...You know I don't mean romantically."

"Given neither of us are all that into romance, no."

Logan huffed a short laugh, unable to help the small, amused smile in response to their quip.

"But I do love you. Are you... familiar with queerplatonic feelings?"

Remy eyed him for a moment, quiet but considering.

"...Yeah. Kinda like a toss up between platonic and romantic love right? Like... I wanna hold your hand but if you even think about kissing me I'm backin' out type'a thing?"

Logan laughed again. Remy always managed to make him laugh the easiest.

"In a sense for some people, I suppose. I think that about fits how my ideal relationship with-"

He stopped, his face flushing hotter.

Remy waited patiently, but when Logan didn't continue, was clearly too flustered to continue, they lowered their sunglasses and looked him in the eyes with a small, reassuring smile.

"I love you too, sweets. Now can you stop being all mushy on me so I can continue with my "annoy V with monkey memes" agenda?"

This time when Logan laughed, it was out of relief and mild confusion.

"Why monkeys?"

Remy grinned at him, slipping their sunglasses back into place.

"He called me an ape man."

(For @sleepless-in-starbucks for being there for me a lot this month during my harder times and never failing to make me laugh. You may not think so, but I think you're a genuinely amazing and kind person)

[surohsopsisofclouds]

Losleeping Through The Years Together

“Am… I your lockscreen?” Logan asked, catching Remy by surprise when he peaked over his shoulder at him.

“Gah!” Remy jumped, causing Logan to jump too.

After he took a moment to calm down, Remy suddenly blushed to his roots when he remembered what Logan had just seen.

“You… weren’t supposed to see that.” He admitted, a hand still on his chest.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Ugh…” Remy groaned. He was curled up in a mountain of blankets on the couch, an ice pack resting on his head. He didn’t deal well with being sick, and he had a cold, that was like, a stereotypical kind of sick!

“You ok, starlight?” Logan inquired, coming in with a bowl of soup on a tray for him.

Remy smiled weakly at him. “Now that you’re here? Yeah, babes. You make everything better.” He sluggishly grabbed the ice pack and held it out to him.

Logan snorted at that, gently taking the ice pack and moving towards the kitchen to trade it out for a cold one.

Coming back in a minute later, he was taken aback to see that Remy had fallen asleep, shivering slightly under the thin blanket.

He sighed, shaking his head as a smile took up residence on his face at the sight. He made a detour for the hall closet, pulling out a second blanket.

“Don’t worry, Remy. I’ll keep you warm.” He said softly, wrapping the blanket around him before moving to rest on the couch next to him. 

Remy smiled in his sleep. He wasn’t cold anymore.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Remy was surrounded by a small group of their friends, their shiny new pronouns bracelet hanging from their wrist as they laughed at a joke one of the others had told, the ‘he/him’ one being put back in their purse.

It was after school, and spring break had just started. They had plans to go call Logan after this, since he’d want to know. He was still in England, over there for a tournament, and wouldn’t be back for another week. They’d made plans to go stargazing on the night he got back, but it was starting to look like the clouds might be staying for a while, so who knew?

Remy excused themself from the others, and started the walk back to their dorm.

Next thing they knew, however, they were suddenly getting rammed into, long arms coming up to wrap around them as they both fell into the soft grass below.

“What the-! Wait, babes?” Remy looked down to see Logan’s face staring right back up at them, a steady blush rising to his cheeks.

“I’m home early. I wanted to surprise you.” Were the first words that came out of his mouth, his chest heaving a bit with each breath as though he’d run the whole way.

Remy snorted at him. “Well, color me surprised, cause that was definitely not what I was expecting. You could’ve warned me first though, honeybee! The hug would have been just as sweet~.”

Logan smirked. “But then I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to sweep you off of your feet, dear.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Dance with me!” Logan yelped as he was suddenly pulled over by Remy to stand in the middle of the kitchen.

“W- Remy!” He laughed. “As much as I enjoy it when you do this, will there ever be a time where you warn me first?”

Remy gave him a wide grin. “Nah, sugar. That ruins the surprise!” With that, xe booped his nose, leaving a dollop of frosting in xir wake.

He rolled his eyes at that, his arms coming to rest on his partner’s neck as they swayed together. “Be that as it may, we were in the midst of baking cookies? For Patton’s wedding?”

Xe pouted. “Hey, doll, don’t even try that! We’ve got the last batch in the oven, and the frosting on your nose is from the second-to-last set to decorate! We’re fine!”

“Wait, what? What frosting?” Logan tried to look at his nose to find the frosting, only succeeding in giving xem a very cute sight.

“Oh my stars, sugar, you’re so sweet you’re gonna give me a cavity!” Xe laughed.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Logan heard a knock on his bedroom door, even though it was still two, and dinner wasn’t till five thirty. “Yes?” He answered.

“Hey Lo,” Remy’s voice came through the door, soft and gentle with love. “Can I come in? I saw you at lunch this afternoon, and it looked like you could use a hug.”

He sniffed, a smile creeping on his face in spite of the tears running down his cheeks. “Yeah, you can. The door’s unlocked.”

Ley opened the door slowly, making sure Logan had enough time to rescind his offer if he so wished. Walking over to the bed, ley paused for a moment, only sitting down when he gave lem a nod.

“I’m here for you.” Four words were all it took for Logan to be launching himself at his partner, sobs wrenching themselves from his throat as he cried into leyr chest.

Ley held him tight, soft hushes, and “I’m here’s” falling from leyr lips as ley gently moved them both to be leaning against the headboard, Logan curled up in leyr lap.

“You wanna talk about it or be distracted from it?” Remy asked him after he’d calmed down, leyr hand gently rubbing up and down his back, leyr bracelet softly brushing against his shirt with every movement.

“I- I’m just sad and there’s no reason to be.” He sniffed. He raised his head briefly to look at Remy’s neck, knowing he could trust lem to not be upset if he didn’t meet leyr eyes.

“And that’s okay, doll. It’s okay to not feel okay, and to not know why you don’t feel okay. Sometimes people just feel bad.” Ley replied, hugging him a bit closer.

He smiled at that. “Thank you dear. I really needed to hear that. Could we… watch a movie?”

“Of course, hun. Did you have one in mind?” Remy asked.

“Mm. Big Hero 6?” Logan offered, his eyes beginning to droop with exhaustion.

“No problem, doll. Big Hero 6 comin’ right up.” With that, they spent the rest of the afternoon dozing away, Big Hero 6 playing on the screen in front of them.

(for @sleepless-in-starbucks, because you're such a cool friend to have! (and also I made this for the snipe-lia fest)

[sanderssidesgiftxchange]

merry christmas @fluctuating-fangirl !

title: Crown Prince Gays

pairings: romantic logan/roman, queerplatonic remus & deceit, romantic emile picani/sleep, queerplatonic logan/remy

rating: T

warnings: self-hatred, swearing, self-deprecation, some crude humor, sympathetic remus, sympathetic deceit

wordcount: 8,668

summary: “I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”

Roman stood in front of the mirror wearing his most princely attire, yet he couldn’t even look himself in the eyes.

A voice in his head whispered to him. Do you really think that you could be a better king than Remus?

“No,” he whispered, tearing off his sash and throwing it to the ground. “No I don’t.”

Then do something about it.

So he did.

notes: heyyy giftee! hope you enjoy my take on your requests... I kindof had a field day with it :D I’m actually planning to continue it later on so if for some reason you want to read more of the Crown Prince gays.... lol. hopefully you like queerplatonic content because I’m a Sucker and Had To Add It In. happy holidays!!!!!!

[mypartnersaysimcute]

Queerplatonic space-themes Losleep moodboard for anon! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it :D

[villlainarc]

(I Could Put) A Little Stardust in Your Eyes

Summary: Stars are beautiful things. They glitter in the sky, blessing all those who wander the lands beneath them with soft, silvery light, and stars, being beautiful things, help others to find beautiful things of their own.

Humans, too, are beautiful things. That’s why the stars favor them especially, granting them another to spend their life with. These are soulmates; beautiful things drawn together to create yet another beautiful thing, a fate for each person written in the stars.

Pairings: romantic Losleep, queerplatonic Roceit, platonic Logince, platonic Sleepceit

Warnings: internalized arophobia for one (1) part of one (1) scene, let me know if i missed anything else

Word Count: 12,498

Taglist (ask to be added!): @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive @emo-disaster @wingedsoulmatedreamer

Notes: *shoves everything that happened in yesterday’s video aside except from the name reveal thank god for the find and replace feature* wdym roman and janus were mean to each other

for @sleepless-in-starbucks’s a meter of space contest (belated congrats on 1k and 1 year!)

fun fact i’ve been working on this since december and i remember this was based on a half-prompt or two (i think it was pining losleep from lia and then soulmate au from meri? We Can Pretend That’s Right) that i got when i asked for some but at this point i’m too tired to find the post and also if lia’s memory fails aer then i’m just gonna. Remain An Anonymous Anon fhdkfjd 

ao3

_________________________

Logan likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this: they’re beautiful, they fill the sky, bringing light to the darkest of times, they’re constant, ever-shining, they speak of a wider universe.

And of course, they lead you to your soulmate.

Now, Logan hasn’t met his soulmate, but he’s still awed by the stars.

And he doesn’t need his soulmate anyway, not when he has Remy.

Remy. His best friend, full of beauty even at his most broken. His constant, ever-brilliant best friend who convinces him that life can be more than just facts and numbers, who taught him to look at the stars as more than just stars.

Logan knows that stars are glowing balls of incredibly hot gas. He knows that they’re primarily composed of hydrogen and helium, and he knows that their colors differ depending on their temperature.

And yet, when Remy says, “Each star is a lost dream, hoping to return home,” with such conviction, Logan has no choice but to believe him. When Remy proclaims, “Stars are hope for those who have nothing but their light,” Logan knows that in many senses, he’s right. And of course, when Remy purrs, “Ah, but you see, the stars are really just the sparkles I see in your eyes come to life,” Logan can only blush.

Stars aren’t just phosphorescent spheres of hydrogen and helium, and they aren’t just a tool used to find soulmates. Remy proves that, and that’s why Logan finds he loves both him and the stars so very much.

_________________________

Remy likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this, and they all lead back to Logan. His best friend, his very own star.

Remy had always wondered why anyone needed the stars when the people around them could shine so brightly on their own, but then he’d seen the way that Logan’s eyes lit up when he was given the chance to talk about them.

Then, he thinks that maybe the stars exist only to sparkle in his friend’s eyes. Maybe the stars exist just so Logan’s whole being can glow when he tells Remy that “Most stars come in multiples and orbit one center of gravity,” and does he think that this could be another reason that stars are the things that determine soulmates? Maybe the stars exist solely for Logan to look so radiant as he mentions to Remy that, “The stars with the most mass burn out the fastest,” and doesn’t he find it fascinating that some of the brightest things in the universe are so short-lived?

Or maybe the stars exist so he can watch as Logan stops talking about them at the slightest hint of a smile on Remy’s face, voice falling into nothing as he sits and stares. Maybe the stars exist so Logan can look at Remy as though he is one too.

Then again, maybe it doesn’t matter why the stars exist. Maybe they and their soulmate determining properties don’t change anything. Maybe the stars can’t change anything at all, especially not where Logan and Remy are concerned.

_________________________

But nothing so beautiful lasts forever, nothing so bright will survive for long. Even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, its secrets unveiled as the black velvet lifts away.

And as morning dawns once more, all is revealed. Nothing remains hidden, and the protection of everything held dear is no longer granted so willingly. In a world where light once again reigns and all is laid bare, something as fragile as the happiness Logan and Remy share can not and will not possibly survive.

Every beautiful thing must die, after all.

_________________________

They meet Roman first.

Roman, who Logan’s star finally shines for. Roman, the beautiful, perfect man who’s demeanor is just as bright as Logan’s star. Roman, the actor, the celebrity, Logan’s soulmate.

Logan is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? This is Roman Prince, after all. He’s everything anyone could ever dream of having in a soulmate. And Remy’s not jealous of that, not jealous of him.

He’s not.

Remy likes Roman. He’s eccentric, but caring and sweet and sensitive and better with emotions than Remy will ever be. Logan deserves someone like him, someone who’s the fire to his ice, someone who’s just the right amount of extra to serve as Logan’s foil, someone whose head is high enough in the clouds that he lifts Logan ever so slightly from the ground upon which he’s so determined to stay.

Remy likes Roman. He likes that Roman is Logan’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Remy sees how easily they fit, how precisely they slot into the other’s life. They’re soulmates—of course they belong together. Of course they fit, of course they work, of course they’re… perfect.

Remy doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Logan has a soulmate who’s thousands of times more wonderful than Remy could ever hope to be. Of course he does. Remy shouldn’t have ever expected any different, not for Logan. Logan deserves all of this, deserves Roman and his romantic tendencies and pampering and love. Logan deserves all of that and so much more.

And Remy, no matter how much he cares for Logan, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

They meet Janus next.

Janus, who Remy’s star finally shines for. Janus, the handsome, perfect person whose intelligent eyes shine with more intensity than any star in the sky. Janus, the flirt, the sophisticated and elegant, Remy’s soulmate.

Remy is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? After meeting Janus, you’d understand how hard it would be to not fall in love with them. He’s everything anyone could ever want in a soulmate, and Logan isn’t jealous of her. Not jealous at all.

He’s not.

Logan likes Janus, truly. Janus, who’s so smooth, suave, and charming. Janus, with words like gold and a tongue of silver, so much more eloquent and self-assured than Logan could ever dream of being. Yes, Remy deserves someone like them, someone who can give him everything he’s ever wanted and more, someone who can wax poetic about him with all the ease of breathing, someone who’s dramatics give Remy’s heart a reason to soar.

Logan likes Janus. He likes that Janus is Remy’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Logan can see how easily Janus can bring a blush to Remy’s cheeks, how much she can make him smile. They’re soulmates—of course they make each other happy. Of course they laugh together, of course their eyes are brightest when they meet each other’s, of course they’re… perfect.

Logan doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Remy has a soulmate who’s trillions of light-years better than Logan could hope to be. Of course he does. Remy deserves all of this, deserves Janus’s brilliant mind and sparks of romance and love. Remy deserves all of that and so much more.

And Logan, no matter how much he cares for Remy, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

On the night Logan and Remy have their first kiss, it’s raining—storming, really. The raindrops fall in sheets, and it’s a struggle to see anything more than a foot away. The sky has clouded over too, and the world is lit only by neon signs and street lamps, car headlights and refractions. There isn’t a single moonbeam to light the sky and not one star glimmers.

Perhaps that’s why they feel emboldened enough to talk to each other—really talk to each other—to confess, to pull each other close, to put everything they’d ever known in jeopardy. Perhaps, once the source of their fear had drifted out of sight, Logan and Remy understood for the first time that there was nothing to fear at all, that there never had been.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of starlight for city lights that causes Remy to take Logan’s hand without a care for who’s watching, to spin him around with a laugh beneath a sky full of storm clouds, to twirl him ever closer before they stop in the middle of the sidewalk—does that all just to see his face, to have him near, would have always done all that and more. Perhaps it is the way the neon lights are reflected in the sheen of water on Remy’s face that causes Logan’s breath to catch in his throat, perhaps it is the fact that the raindrops coating Logan’s glasses looked like stardust that causes Remy’s heart to do that same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that lifts Remy’s hands to Logan’s face, keeps their eyes interlocked, lets the words “you’re beautiful” spill out of one of their mouths, out of both of them, out of none. The words might have been spoken with the way their eyes sparkled, hearts pounded, breathes quickened, smiles deepened, but they are there, floating in the air between them. They’re there as Remy wipes the streams of rain from Logan’s face like they’re tears, with an impossible sort of gentleness reserved for only the most precious of things. They’re there as he continues to brush his thumbs over skin dark as night and just as beautiful, they’re there as smiles fade into hopeless longing. They’re there as Remy’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Logan responds with a nod, both imperceptible to anyone outside of the now silent world of their own creation.

This time, Remy knows he says, “You’re beautiful, Logan.” He knows this because he feels Logan’s cheeks heat up beneath his hands and though his self-control had been a lost cause from the start, any that he may have still possessed vanishes in an instant. Remy’s eyes slip shut, and he’s falling.

Remy and Logan kiss like falling stars, doomed from the very moment their lips meet. They kiss like a star about to go supernova, like they know their time is limited to this instant and this instant alone. Their kiss is Gliese 436b, a paradox that occurred against all odds. Like Gliese 436b, the world around them is so cold, and yet they burn from the inside out. They are shooting stars, and they wish upon each other, neither wanting time to start up again, for everything to fall in on itself, for their universe to collapse.

But they burn too brightly to survive for long, so a collapse is inevitable. The light that was their kiss transforms to the complete absence of it as they both go dark; for Remy and Logan are not only stars, they are also a black hole—cosmic quicksand, dragging each other into the unknowable as they hold on with everything they are and it is still not enough, never enough. They can’t hold on forever, and so they must let go and they must breathe. That is their first mistake: extinguishing their shared light.

As they stop burning so intensely, they make their second mistake: allowing the light to stay dark. They still have their hands placed in rain-soaked waves of hair, running over cheeks streaked with what could be raindrops or tears, gripping wet shirts that cling to torsos, gliding over arms made smooth by water, but they will not kiss again. And that is a terrible, horrible thing because it allows for mistake number three.

Their third mistake is one that would have happened one day, even without mistakes one and two, one that is so inescapable that nothing could ever dream of stopping it. The third mistake Logan and Remy make is allowing for their once-burning light to collapse in on itself, to fall apart so thoroughly that the place they shared their kiss will never again allow anything near it to shine that brilliantly or at all. The street lamp that watches over them now will never again be illuminated after tonight, impossibly dark no matter what lightbulb is twisted into it. The car headlights that pass by will flicker, and any neon signs nearby will dim before going out with a pop of sparks. The collapse they will allow creates a darkness so profound that one cannot pass under the street lamp, stare into the headlights, wander past what used to be a neon sign without shivering—not from the cold, but from an atmosphere so desolate that anyone who bears witness to it will remember it with a feeling like a dagger to the heart for the rest of their days.

Their third mistake brings about an all-encompassing darkness, but the all-encompassing darkness is a result of the collapse that precedes it, a collapse that begins when Logan untangles one hand from rain-soaked waves of hair and yanks the other away from its grip on a wet, clingy shirt, and a collapse that is their third mistake, not the darkness that follows. The collapse only grows more devastating as Logan, still gasping for air, breathes out an apology. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the rate of the collapse increases astronomically.

“Why are you sorry?” Remy asks, about to destroy any hope that the black hole they’ve created might not rip entire galaxies apart. “Did you not want to kiss me, babe? No, forget I asked that,” he laughs, shakes his head, interrupts himself before continuing on a course set towards destruction, “of course you wanted to kiss me. I know you, doll, and I know you wanted to kiss me, and you said you wanted to kiss me, and I know that you love me. You must, and even though the stars say you don’t, I know you do and I know I’m right.”

“Remy,” Logan breathes, not wanting to say anything else at all. “Remy, I—” he hesitates once again, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest hitches as Remy leans forward in anticipation. Logan wants to prevent the shattering of the hope etched on his face, wants to offer an explanation that could somehow minimize the damage of the most destructive thing in the universe. But he doesn’t. He, in fact, does the exact opposite of that. By simply saying, “You’re wrong,” Logan has effectively sealed his and Remy’s fates.

“No,” Remy says, walking over broken glass with his voice, “I’m not wrong. You’re lying, babe. I know you are.”

In a sharp contrast to Remy’s, Logan’s voice is colder than space itself, freezing anything remotely human immediately and without remorse. “What does it matter? We both have soulmates, and mine is not you.”

“What does that matter?”

“What doe—” Logan looks incredulous, and the divide between him and Remy widens as he takes a step back. “I’m afraid I don’t see what you mean. Soulmates aren’t the sort of thing you can ignore quite so easily.”

“Come on now, babe. You of all people have heard stories of people who never find their soulmates, who find love in other places, who—”

“But those people haven’t found their soulmates. That’s the point, and that’s where we differ from them. We have found our soulmates, and ignoring the stars so blatantly will only break their hearts. I refuse to do that.”

“They’ll understand though, I know they will.” Remy’s voice sounds infinitely less sure than it had when he’d begun this conversation. The conviction has drained from his words, drawn into the endless depths of the ever-growing black hole.

Logan shakes his head, expression closing off entirely. “No. They won’t, and you know that as well as I do. You’re only deluding yourself if you truly believe otherwise.”

“Babe—”

“Please don’t.”

Remy knows what Logan’s tone means. That discomfort, that refusal to accept the pet name that’s normally thrown around so very casually, that icy expression twisting for barely the blink of an eye into involuntary fondness—Logan does love him. Not that Remy had ever doubted that fact, not really, but the confirmation is a comfort to hear. “Logan, then,” he amends, making a point to speak his name as reverently as possible, fitting as much love and adoration into one word as he can. “Logan, my darling, my dear, my light, my star—you will never know until you try.”

Logan, as a general rule, doesn’t blush. His skin is too dark for the red heat rushing to his cheeks to stand out and even if that wasn’t the case, he is impossible to fluster. But tonight, under a street lamp that will all too soon flicker out for good, Remy can see the barest hint of color gracing Logan’s cheeks. His mouth opens as he tries to form a response, but it shuts again just as quickly.

“No,” he settles on after a moment that had stretched on for a short eternity. “No, I am not going to risk hurting them. I care for Roman, and Janus is… she’s important to you. So we will not speak of this again. It would be best to forget this happened entirely.”

“Logan—” Remy begins, saying that name with the same sweetness he’d used before, reaching a hand across the darkness between them with a wish for one last brush of his hand against Logan’s cheek, one last touch.

Logan takes another step backwards. “I think it would be best if I didn’t see you for a while.” Another step. “I’m sorry,” he says. I’m sorry for kissing you when I knew I shouldn’t, I’m sorry if you loved me and I hurt you by pulling away now, by always pulling away, I’m sorry for falling in love with you when I knew we were never meant to be. I’m so, so sorry, he doesn’t say.

“I—” I love you, Logan. Nothing you do now or ever will change that, Remy doesn’t reply. “I’m sorry too,” Remy decides to say instead.

As the black hole from their supernova of a kiss forms fully, Logan walks away, rain streaming down his face once more, tasting oddly of salt when a droplet catches on his lips.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, Remy stands beneath the street lamp, watching him go before the lights surrounding him all flicker out.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, as Remy stands beneath the street lamp, every spark of hope either of them had ever held is extinguished by the rain that pours down around them; each dream of what could have been is consumed by the black hole of their own creation.

Everything beautiful must die, after all.

_________________________

Roman has been fighting for perfection his whole life.

From the moment he was born, he’d been expected to do everything right. Not one slip-up had been allowed, not one action that could in any way be perceived as wrong.

He’d been able to appear flawless—he still can, of course, and he doesn’t want to know what would have happened if he hadn’t been. His smiles glitter, the light hitting them just right each and every time. His grace is unprecedented, his skin unblemished, each curve of his muscles chiseled to perfection. Roman’s ideas are always polished when he presents them, and you’d have to comb through hours of footage to find a second of any of his performances that could be considered anywhere near average, and you simply wouldn’t find anything below that standard. Each word he says is picked out meticulously, long before he plans to speak them, and each laugh is even more carefully timed.

There is not a single aspect of Roman that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—star status, money, friends, fans—and it’s all due to his absolute perfection.

And it was hard to get there. God, it was hard. Being held to such a standard, constantly on display, each move he made being judged to the highest extreme imaginable—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But for Roman? This has been his life for as long as he’s lived it.

The only thing that’s ever-so-slightly imperfect about him is the distinct absence of a soulmate in his life. It’s okay though! The world is more accepting these days, and soulmates no longer define you. The fact that Roman doesn’t have one hardly ruins his perfection.

Still, though, it does. The world may be more accepting, but not having a soulmate is far from destigmatized, and Roman is the only person of his caliber to be so very… flawed, in that sense.

He tries not to show how much it hurts to be looked down upon for something entirely out of his control, but it does. It hurts, and it hurts more than he will ever say. Roman’s fight to be perfect is doomed to fail unless he can manage to fix how utterly broken he is.

So that’s why, when he meets Logan and their stars light up the whole sky, he falls hopelessly in love in the very next breath he takes. The stars chose Logan for him, and the stars would not be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Logan is, what he’s like, if he likes Roman in return—it’s all negligible.

It’s all so very negligible because now, at long, long last, Roman is perfect.

_________________________

Janus has been perfect his whole life.

From the moment she was born, everything they’d done had been effortless. It was unfathomable that he’d make a single slip-up; not one action that they could ever make would be perceived as wrong.

Janus is, of course, far from perfect—and to be completely honest, he’s not sure why anyone would view him as such. Sure, she’s impossibly suave, causing anyone who crosses their path to swoon with the slightest of winks and sure, their cleverness enchants anyone who hadn’t yet fallen for them. Even with half of his face horrifically scarred, she is still one of the most utterly gorgeous beings to have ever lived—all glitter and mismatched eyes and charm, lit from within with confidence and smirks and eloquence. His words can convince anyone of anything, yes, but that isn’t to say that they’re manipulative. That would make him imperfect, and Janus is not imperfect—she is quick-witted and full of class, voice sugary sweet in a way that can’t possibly be genuine and yet is almost always entirely so.

There is not a single aspect of Janus that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—a brilliant mind and looks to match, riches, influence, people who would kill for them—and it’s all due to her indisputable perfection.

But the thing is—they aren’t perfect. Appearing to be perfect doesn’t mean that they actually are. And now— now he can’t be imperfect. Now, she’s held to a standard she can’t possibly keep meeting, constantly being observed and studied and judged—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But Janus? They make this impossibility look effortless.

The only thing that offers him any reprieve from his neverending performance is the fact that he doesn’t have a soulmate. It’s the one thing that keeps her even slightly imperfect, and Janus is perfectly fine with it staying that way. All they want is to prove—one flaw at a time—that they aren’t infallible.

Still, though, no one believes him. They’re kept on a pedestal, their lack of a soulmate going completely ignored. Everyone she knows remains stubborn in the belief that she can do no wrong.

They try not to show how much it pains them to be living a constant lie, to never be allowed to act in a way that’s true to who they are, but it does. It pains him, and it pains him more than he will ever say. Janus’s quiet struggle to be herself is doomed to fail unless she can manage to prove to someone how truly broken she is.

So that’s why, when he meets Remy and their stars light up the whole sky, he nearly falls apart right then and there. It doesn’t matter to them why the stars had chosen Remy for him, and not only because the stars wouldn’t be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Remy is, what he’s like, if he too feels panicked and suffocated by the very idea of a soulmate—it’s all negligible.

It’s all hopelessly negligible because now, on a day that’s come entirely too soon for her liking, the stars have torn away her one hope at being perceived as imperfect.

_________________________

There is no such thing as perfection, not a single person who could ever be considered flawless. Even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the multitude of stars that pierce the night.

And as the sun does rise, each fissure that’s torn its way through each person is revealed. In the harsh light of day, there’s nowhere to hide and each stain lain upon a pristine world is thrown into sharp relief. Unable to conceal anything else, darkness retreats and, having been so thinly veiled, there was never any way Roman and Janus’s perfection could have withstood the onslaught of daylight.

The idea of perfection is a beautiful thing, but like all beautiful things, it can never last.

_________________________

Roman loves Logan. His boyfriend is brilliant and funny in a dry way Roman hadn’t ever thought he’d grow to adore, and Logan’s mind is one of the most beautiful things Roman has ever had the honor of being in the presence of. He is in awe of the darkness of Logan’s skin and how he can run his own hands over it, making golden lights spread over the night sky of Logan’s face or take Logan’s hand in his, causing warm starlight to glow from between his fingers.

And Logan is his soulmate. The stars brought them together, and Roman couldn’t be happier, couldn’t be luckier.

Roman loves Logan, really, he does, so why are his eyes constantly drawn to Janus? Janus, Remy’s soulmate. Janus, with the scar on his face that they make beautiful by framing it with shimmering golden highlights and the confidence to wear it proudly. Janus, whose smile could light the night sky all on its own. Janus, whose winks and compliments cause Roman to melt a little more every day. Janus, who— oh god. Janus, who—

Janus, who Roman’s in love with.

Janus, who Remy’s in love with, who’s Remy’s soulmate.

Janus, who isn’t Roman’s soulmate. Janus, who he can’t be in love with. Janus, who wouldn’t ever love him.

Roman realizes this, of course he realizes this. He understands that he will never be allowed to be with Janus, no matter what he may want. He knows that he still cares for Logan, albeit not in the way he’d originally thought. Spending his life with Logan won’t be so bad.

Even if Janus is right there, her gorgeously mismatched eyes taunting him every time they’re in the same room. Even if they continue to wink, to smile, to compliment, to flirt, Roman knows they cannot ever and will not ever be together. No matter what he may want.

So he ignores his feelings. Ignores Janus’s incessant winks, his smiles, compliments, flirtations. Roman ignores it all, making a point to dote on Logan ever more, take him on increasingly extravagant dates, use every opportunity he can to kiss him. He knows that doesn’t equate to love. He knows that he isn’t proving anything to anyone. But what else can he do when his mind short circuits every time Janus so much as looks at him, when it goes completely blank each time they laugh?

Nothing. Roman can do nothing about this, and it’s driving him insane. So what if this doting, these lavish dates, those unabashed displays of public affection are all performed to stop himself from further examining his own feelings? So what if it isn’t truly helping? So what if he can’t help but imagine running his fingers through Janus’s hair even as his hand ghosts over Logan’s? So what if he dreams that the fingers his are laced with belong to Janus instead? So what if fantasizes about holding them close to his body and burying a kiss in her hair while it’s Logan who leans against him?

Most days, faking everything works. Most days, everything feels almost normal. He’s been a perfect actor his entire life, and he’s not about to stop being one now.

And if no one notices that something isn’t normal, then maybe nothing is.

_________________________

Janus loves Remy.

…That’s a lie. He doesn’t love Remy.

…That’s not quite true either, though. Because they do love him, they do love his snark and sarcasm, his smirks and coffee-brown eyes so often hidden behind his sunglasses. It’s not true at all, really, because she does love all that and more. Just not in the way soulmates are, according to society, supposed to love each other.

So they aren’t in the wrong exactly, and she isn’t truly lying every time they tell Remy ‘I love you,’ but he also isn’t truly free of blame either. Her feelings may not be her fault, but the way they handle Remy’s feelings is. So she’s careful, so incredibly careful. His actions don’t betray a thing. To an outside observer, he would appear to be utterly, perfectly in love.

But that’s just the thing. She’s not.

…That’s a lie too. They are in love, just not with Remy.

At least, that’s what he thinks he feels. She thinks she’s in love, but then again, they’ve never been in love before. He has no idea, if he’s being honest, what love feels like. All she knows is that when she looks at Roman, she feels something entirely different than what she feels when she looks at Remy.

Remy feels like comfort and stability—something to hold onto when the rest of the world falls to ruin, a star that remains set in the sky, guiding you home.

They’d always been told that romantic love would feel like fire—something that burns on contact, a wonderful, searing pain that scorches you from the inside out, illuminating the best parts of you and incinerating the worst.

Whereas Roman… Roman feels like sunlight—something that’s not quite intense enough to burn on contact but still managing to light up corners of you that would otherwise remain hidden, casting shadows on things you’d rather not see, a ray of light that fills you with warmth and happiness and something just slightly to the left of what you’d imagine true love to be.

Janus doesn’t know a word for that feeling, though. It’s not quite as intense as love has been described to her as, but what else would it be?

No, they’re definitely in love with Roman. Roman, who’s spun of sunlight and pure gold. Roman, who’s outer physique betrays just how strong he is inside. Roman, with his bright laughter and genuine words and a mind full of ideas so intensely radiant no one else could have possibly dreamt them up. Roman, who she could wax poetic about for hours on end.

Roman who, yes, is Logan’s soulmate and not his. But that’s just a technicality, isn’t it? No star had ever stated that soulmates had to be strictly romantic. And the stars are wise. Soulmates were their gift to the world, they wouldn’t mess something like this up. Society is what dictates that soulmates indicate romantic attraction and romantic attraction alone.

And society is often wrong, is it not?

So perhaps Janus and Remy are, in fact, still soulmates. Perhaps Roman and Logan are as well.

But perhaps they’ve all been wrong about the sort of soulmates they are.

But then again, what if Janus is wrong about this? What if the stars do only deal in romance and her feelings for Roman are nothing more than infatuation? What if—god forbid—society is truly right this time? What if they just… choose to ignore their gut feeling this time? What if it’s better to continue pretending, just in case? Because what if he’s the reason Remy’s heart breaks, that Logan’s heart breaks, that his own heart breaks when he realizes his love for Roman is unrequited?

Yes, that’s what she’ll do. Keep pretending. Doing anything else won’t be worth the pain.

So Janus goes on pretending—pretending to be in love with Remy, pretending to be perfect. At times, it comes as easily as breathing. But at other times, she has to imagine Roman’s face in the place of Remy’s. Replace pale skin for golden, add warmth to his eyes and hair, sharpen his jawline and cheekbones, fill out his frame with just a touch more muscle. Pretend the cocky smirk is a blinding smile. It’s still easy enough, most days, and that’s all that matters.

They’ve been pretending their whole life, it’s not as though anything will go wrong now.

_________________________

The day of Janus and Roman’s first kiss is not “most days.” It’s the opposite, really. Logan and Remy aren’t there, for one. Janus is awake before the day has truly begun, and the scene in front of him is painted with golden fire. The sky is perfectly clear, and the only thing needed to light up the world is the soft glow of the sun.

Perhaps this radiance is why Roman too is awake at such an early hour. Perhaps that’s why he’s sought out Janus, why he’s approaching the steps of their porch with such light in his eyes. Perhaps, once the dark of night had passed, the truths Roman and Janus had held so close are finally brought with them into the dawn.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of a midnight-colored sky for one spun from gold that causes Roman to fit himself next to Janus on the top step without a passing thought spared for the rest of the early-morning stillness, to allow his hand to linger just slightly too close to hers, to watch as the slow rise of the sun creates a perfect halo around their head. Perhaps it is the warmth of Roman’s hand that rests so close to theirs and the matching look on his face that causes Janus’s breath to catch in her throat, perhaps it is the way that the sky full of fire sets Janus’s eyes alight that causes Roman’s heart to do the same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that convinces Roman to place his hand over Janus’s, interlocks their fingers, lets the silence linger for a moment, for an hour, a year, a lifetime. The silence persists and though there is such intense meaning in the heat that ignites in their eyes and in the way their hearts pound, breaths quicken, faces glow—the air remains heavy without their voices to fill it. The world goes quiet as Roman lifts Janus’s hand off the ground like it’s a rose made of glass. It stays quiet as he becomes transfixed by the hand resting in his own, it stays quiet as he looks up to meet eyes of molten gold and sunlit skies. It stays quiet as Roman’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Janus responds with a nod, both actions imperceptible to the rest of a world still held captive by sleep.

Like the breaking of porcelain, Roman’s voice shatters the silence with the words, “You’re beautiful, Janus.” The destruction of something so pristine is more than fine though because as he says this, Janus’s face begins to glow with even more warmth and any restraint Roman may have previously been inclined to show vanishes in an instant. Unwilling to break anything else, Roman’s eyes stay open as he falls.

The kiss Roman lays on Janus’s hand is delicate, softer than the drift of cherry blossom petals floating to the ground. He’s impossibly careful with every movement he makes, picking his way through a cluster of thorn-covered roses—both avoiding drawing blood and basking in the beauty that surrounds him. Roman may have only kissed Janus on her hand, but that simple action causes both of their bodies to go alight with tongues of fire. They are the coming of dawn, bright and brilliant and inevitable; they revel in their warmth and the hope that they represent.

Sunrises don’t transform into black holes, don’t destroy everything they touch, don’t cause the universe to collapse. They simply are, certain and pure.

Nothing is ruined when Roman lifts his lips from the back of Janus’s hand. There is no tragedy that follows his next breath, no misfortune that befalls him. He merely sits there, breathing, living, waiting for Janus to make the next move as his hand remains wrapped around theirs.

“What was that?” Janus asks finally, choosing those words to fracture the silence while already knowing the answer to them. It was a confession, a confirmation, a spur-of-the-moment decision, a kiss.

“A kiss,” Roman replies, echoing Janus’s thoughts. “Did I overstep any boundaries?”

“No, no. I would have stopped you if I were uncomfortable.”

“Then what is it, my dearest?”

“I just— I need to think. I promise it’s not anything you need to worry over, but… I need time.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Roman says, worrying anyway.

Janus’s head drops into their hands, and the world falls into silence once more. With nothing else to do, Roman leans back on his arms and lets his mind wander aimlessly as well, trying his best to stop himself from catastrophizing. He replays the kiss in his head, a soft smile growing on his face before he gasps and his eyes go wide with a realization.

Pushing himself off the ground, Roman turns to Janus. Placing a hand lightly on her knee, he proclaims, “I think you’re my soulmate, Janus.”

Janus blinks, startled. After going completely still for a moment, the reply he ends up giving is, “Are you sure?”

Now it’s Roman’s turn to blink in incredulity. “Yes, of course!” he says, a slightly conflicted frown growing on his face. “I know I have to have a soulmate because everyone has a soulmate and I know I don’t like Logan in the way you’re supposed to like a soulmate because the feelings I have for him are in the same vein as the feelings I have for my other friends—really, I’ve begun to think of him as my best friend because I do love him so very much, just not like that—and I love you in a different way, so you must be my soulmate. Since I can’t— I can’t just not have a soulmate, it has to be you. I love you, Janus, and I love you differently, so this is the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Roman, darling, that’s not how soulmates work.”

“What do you mean? Of course it is!”

Janus takes a deep breath, resolving to keep his voice gentle upon realizing he’s likely about to completely shatter Roman’s world-view. “Soulmates aren’t strictly romantic, you do know that, right? Often, they can take the form of a best friend or, when one or more of the soulmates in question is aromantic, a queerplatonic partner.”

“That can’t be right,” Roman says, scrunching up his nose in thinly veiled disdain. “Soulmates have to be romantic, that’s just the way things are.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, love,” Janus says, tacking the bit of affection onto the end to soften their words. “They don’t have to be romantic, and there are more cases than you can imagine that prove that. Your soulmate is determined by the glow of your star, not through your own interpretation of how you feel. You may love me, but that doesn’t mean I’m your soulmate.”

“So then… what are you saying? Do— do you not love me as anything other than a friend and you don’t want to properly reject me? Is that why you’re making up this elaborate story? Or is it because you don’t want to hurt Remy or Logan? Or—”

Janus cuts him off before he can come up with anything else. “What? No, it’s not that at all! Besides, Remy and Logan are so clearly in love that I don’t think they’d mind us being together at all and—” Janus cuts themself off, clearing their throat. “—and we can worry about those two gay disasters later. That’s not where I was going with that, apologies.” She rakes a hand through her hair before continuing with considerably less frantic energy, “I’m telling you the truth, Roman. I wouldn’t make something like this up, especially not since I—” Janus frowns suddenly, cutting off her words.

“You…?” Roman prompts, a glimmer of hope spreading across his feature.

Taking a steadying breath, Janus replies, “Since I— I love you too. But,” they add, holding out a hand once they see Roman’s mouth open, words on the tip of his tongue, “I don’t think I love you in exactly the same way you love me.” When Roman’s joy turns to confusion, she quickly begins speaking again. “It’s… a bit hard to explain, in all honesty. I know I don’t love you in the way I would love a friend, but at the same time—” Janus stops, unsure of how to continue. “You know how romantic love is supposed to feel like fire?” he decides to ask, changing approaches entirely. “And how platonic love feels like… a fixed star?”

And, weirdly enough, Roman does know. He understands Janus’s strange comparisons because he feels exactly the same way, and he’s so startled by the way that they’ve apparently seen into his heart that he merely nods in response.

“Well,” Janus continues slowly, “what I feel for you is something in between. Think of it as sunlight, almost. It’s still a force of golden heat, but it feels less like burning and more like a soft warmth that saturates your entire being. It may come from a fixed star, but the sunlight itself is more fluid and of a far warmer hue. It’s love, undoubtedly, but not exactly in the way you’d think of it.”

Roman nods again, Janus’s words resonating with him in a way nothing has before. Then, realizing again what she’s saying, shakes his head rapidly. “No. No, you’re wrong. That sunlight feeling is what I feel for you, and I know that’s romantic love. It has to be. Just because it’s less fiery than we’ve been told it should be doesn’t mean it’s not romantic love.” Roman shakes his head again, repeating in a whisper, “It has to be.”

“I’m not telling you what you’re feeling, Roman. Your sunlight feeling can still be romantic, I’m just trying to explain that mine isn’t.”

Roman knows, somehow, that his sunlight feeling isn’t romantic either. Calling it romantic simply doesn’t feel right, but he ignores that sense of wrongness. If this isn’t romantic love, then Roman has never felt romantic love and that means he’s broken and— “I can’t be broken,” Roman rasps out.

Janus reacts immediately, taking Roman’s face in her hands. “You aren’t broken.”

“But if that sunlight isn’t romantic love—”

“I told you it could be,” Janus interjects.

“—and I know it’s not and I’d only be lying to myself if I said it was—but if that’s the only thing I’ve ever felt that gets even sort of close to fire, that means I’ve never felt real romantic love and that means I’m broken.”

“No, it doesn’t. You aren’t broken,” Janus repeats again, the sunlight in their eyes turning her gaze that much more intense. They take a breath, taking one hand from Roman’s face to run it through his hair almost unconsciously. “Have you heard of the term ‘aromantic?’”

Roman shakes his head slightly, careful not to dislodge Janus’s hands from where they’re currently tangled in his hair and brushing over his cheek.

“It refers to someone who doesn’t feel romantic attraction in the same way the term ‘asexual’ refers to someone who doesn’t feel sexual attraction. Neither one means that the person is broken, or unfeeling, or in any way flawed. It’s simply a part of who they are—and a part of who I am.” Janus untangles his hand from Roman’s hair before shifting to sit on his knees. “Whether you also choose to adopt this label or not, whether you relate to it or not, whether you want to wait and find out more before you do anything or not, you, Roman Prince, are. Not. Broken.” With those words, Janus raises herself up until her forehead is level with Roman’s, resting it against his. “You. Are. Not. Broken,” they repeat, putting as much emphasis as they can on each word without screaming it.

“Thank you,” Roman says, and he means it with all of his heart. “I love you,” he adds, and he means it not as an afterthought, not in the way that feels like fire, and not in the way that feels like a star, but in the way that feels like sunlight.

“I love you,” Janus replies, and he too means it in the way that feels like sunlight.

She tilts her head down, Roman tilts his up, and their lips meet in the middle.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is full of warmth, of passion, of love.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is in the light of a sunrise that’s barely begun.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is, even with all of their flaws, somehow, someway, impossibly perfect.

_________________________

“I kissed Janus.”

“That’s nice, Roman dear.”

“Logan, I love you with all of my heart, but did you hear a word I just said?”

Logan blinks, looking up from his book. “Of course I heard you, darling. You said you kissed Janus, which to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure why you expect me to have some kind of reaction to—” he freezes, realization lighting his features. “Oh my god. You kissed Janus.” A thousand different emotions flash across his face at once; relief and betrayal, joy and pain, uncertainty and fear and confusion. “Explain,” he finally settles on saying.

“Easy. I love them, and they love me. When two people fall in love, they often choose to—”

“Roman.”

“Right, sorry. Before I continue though, I feel like I should mention—and this may seem a bit out of the blue, but I promise it’s relevant—you’re in love with Remy.”

“…I’m what.” Logan peers at Roman through squinted eyes, his deadpan voice at once skeptical and utterly baffled.

“In love with Remy, but I’ll get back to that in a second. Firstly though, have you heard of queerplatonic partners or queerplatonic relationships?”

“I am familiar with the terms, yes. What does this have to do with—”

“Shh, just listen for a moment, Lo.”

Logan raises a sardonic eyebrow, not saying a word as he waits for Roman to continue.

“Yes, silence is good for listening,” Roman says with a grin. “Anyhow, what I was getting at is that essentially, Janus and I are in love, just not in the way one would be… romantically in love like, say, youandRemyare.” Roman coughs at the end as though clearing his throat. “He taught me about how he doesn’t feel romantic feelings for me, but rather something just a bit… different. I realized I felt exactly the same, she kissed me, you know the drill. That moment had all the makings of a perfect love story, if I’m being honest,” Roman swooned.

“That’s lovely, but I’m fairly certain that I, and not Janus, am your soulmate.”

“Ah, that’s where Janus’s genius comes in. Again.” Roman fluttered a hand to his chest, swooning once more. “They did research on that exact topic after realizing that ignoring their feelings would only lead them to more pain that they didn’t need, and you know what she found?”

“…Am I supposed to ask you a question for dramatic effect?”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Logan sighs. “Whatever did she find?” he drones, barely an iota of energy put into his look of mocking curiosity.

“Close enough!” Roman declares. “Since you asked so kindly, I’ll let you know that Janus found out that soulmates—drumroll, please—don’t have to be romantic.”

Logan’s exasperated expression dropped from his face immediately and his whole being seemed to brighten with new hope. “What did you just say?”

“Soulmates! Don’t have to be romantic!”

“Are you certain?”

“Are you doubting the research capabilities of the love of my life?”

“I thought I was the love of your life.”

“Exactly!” Upon seeing Logan’s frown, Roman amends, “I mean, you can both be! That’s what’s so great about this discovery! Soulmates don’t have to be romantic, and in fact, there are so many precedents for them not being romantic that I’m shocked, I’d never heard a word about any of them before today.” Roman’s bright expression dimmed the smallest bit as his voice became more serious. “My point is though, you can both be the loves of my life since there are so very many types of love to be expressed and I have a nearly infinite supply of love to go around.”

“Oh.”

Roman looks at him incredulously. “‘Oh?’ Is that all you’re going to say?”

“If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll provide you with a more satisfactory reaction. I need to think about—”

“—what this means for you and Remy. Yeah, I know, I get it. You love him and he’s the best friend that you could ever ask for and you don’t want to ruin that by changing the label on your relationship.”

“…No. Not that at all.”

“No?” Roman asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Was that… was I not right?”

Logan tilted his head from side to side in contemplation. “Mm, those were my feelings before, but then—” he suddenly clamped his mouth shut. “Never mind.”

“No, please continue.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Aw, come on Lo. I won’t be upset.”

“Oh, I know you won’t, not after what you just explained. I’m more worried about— about Remy right now.”

“Sorry?”

Logan takes a deep breath. “I kissed him.”

“You what now?”

“Or he kissed me, or… it’s a bit of a blur, actually. I can’t seem to remember exactly what happened, but—”

“Logan, love, why would Remy be upset with you because you kissed him?”

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Logan scrunches his face up as though trying to hide the emotions reveal themselves upon it. “It wasn’t the kiss.”

“What was it, then?”

“It’s… after the kiss, I… may have freaked out just a bit and decided it would be best for us to leave each other alone… ‘for a while’ I said, but I meant indefinitely.”

“Logan.”

Logan holds up a placating hand. “I’m perfectly aware that this was a terrible decision on my part, but in all fairness, I have never once claimed to be good at handling my emotions, especially not ones as overwhelming as what I feel for, uh. You know.”

“For Remy,” Roman says, looking expectantly at Logan. “You realize you’re going to have to admit out loud that you love him someday, right?”

Logan coughs awkwardly, looking to the side to hide his flushed face. “Yes, for— for Remy. Yes.”

“…That’s a start,” Roman concedes. “Now, what do you plan to do about your grade-a idiocy?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Yes, well, perhaps you should’ve.”

“I’m aware, Roman.”

“Would you like some assistance?”

“With… apologizing?”

“Mhm.”

“You know, I think that’s one thing I’ll be able to handle myself. I just have to call him, and everything will—”

“Hold on, hold up, stop right there. What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

Logan freezes, fingers hovering just above his phone screen. “…Calling Remy to apologize to him?”

“After breaking his heart, you’re going to apologize with a phone call?”

“That was the plan, yes. Why?”

“Because that’s a terrible apology!”

“As far as apologies go, I think it’s actually pretty standard.”

“Sure, but this is the love of your life, we’re talking about, Logan. You can’t apologize to him over the phone. You need to shock him with a romantic gesture so grand that he’ll have no choice but to forgive you!”

“Do you think— do you think there’s a chance he won’t forgive me?”

“No!” Roman corrects quickly. “That isn’t what I’m saying at all. I just think that this is a bigger deal than you’re pretending it is, so a bit of romance certainly couldn’t hurt.”

“You may be right, but I’ve never…” Logan shakes his head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Well… if you don’t want to do something too grand and romantic, you can at least take him somewhere special.”

“Like a fancy restaurant?”

“No, not quite. More like… someplace that holds meaning for the two of you, you know?”

Logan lights up, positively glowing. “I think I have just the place.”

_________________________

“Remy darling, have you left the couch at all today?”

Remy pouts in response. “So what if I haven’t? I’m in emotional distress, babes.”

“Hm,” Janus hums. “While that’s fair, I still don’t think merely sitting around all day is going to do much to help with that.”

Remy’s pout grows. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

Janus laughs lightly. “Come on a walk with me? You need to leave the house again someday.”

“I don’t, actually. You’re a fancy lawyer, so I can become a lonely hermit who never leaves his house with no consequence. Besides,” he grins, and after so much practice, it hardly looks forced at all, “I have you, and what more could I want?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, but they don’t comment. “How about if you come on a walk with me anyway, and if you really want, we can even go to that criminally overpriced coffee shop you like so much.”

“The one that’s over a mile away?”

“That’s the one.”

“And we’d have to walk?”

“Remy, darling, walking is good for you. A mile is hardly anything, anyway.”

Remy continues pouting, hoping that something in his face will make Janus relent. “You’re starting to sound like Lo—” his voice gives out, and he has to clear his throat to continue sounding unaffected, “—like Logan,” he finishes. “And why do you want to go on a walk so much anyway?”

“I have something I’d like to talk to you about, and if we start having a conversation while you’re seated, you’ll inevitably start pacing around the room. I’m just taking preemptive action to avoid that, love.”

“Good point, but now I’m worried. What do you want to talk about?”

“Come on a walk and I’ll tell you,” Janus says, a wry smirk on his face.

“This is blackmail.” Remy looks at Janus dolefully, his pout having taken up permanent residence on his face at this point.

“Oh, you don’t have to come if it would inconvenience you that much. I can always go out and get coffee by myself.” She blinks innocently, knowing perfectly well that no matter what she says now, Remy’s mind has been made up. There’s no way he’s going to be able to sit at home knowing that Janus wants to talk to him about a very mysterious, very anxiety-inducing something.

“You know what—” Remy trails off mid-sentence, realizing he’s been beaten. “I’ll get my jacket,” he says begrudgingly, finally standing up from his spot on the couch.

Janus smiles in reply, standing up to go wait by the door. “Good choice.” When Remy returns, leather jacket wrapped around himself, they gesture to the now-open door. “After you.”

“Thanks bunches, doll. Now,” he says, the moment he’s stepped past the threshold, “what’s this you wanted to talk about?”

“Why don’t you wait until we get outside at the very least? It wouldn’t do for us to have made it all the way out the door only for you to return home after barely a minute.”

“Sounds like you’re making excuses, Janus, my darling, my love, light of my life.”

“I would never,” she replies easily. “That’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Sure it is.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Just… walk down the stairs. That’s all I ask, love.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t possibly complete such an arduous task.”

“Remy—” Janus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. The task is arduous, I’m just skilled enough to complete it without even breaking a sweat.”

Janus raises a skeptical eyebrow, shaking their head at that. “Why do I put up with you,” she deadpans.

“Because you love me,” Remy sing-songs, bounding down the stairs ahead of them.

“How could I forget,” he murmurs, watching Remy with thinly veiled amusement.

“How indeed,” Remy agrees, having just barely overheard them from partway down the staircase. “Now come on, I don’t want to be kept waiting after you’ve mentioned an important conversation.”

Janus descends the stairs after Remy, silent until they reach the bottom.

“What’s up?” Remy asks again, stuck to Janus’s side once more like a lost puppy. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s… wrong, exactly. And we aren’t outside yet,” she points out.

“That’s not ominous at all, babe.” Remy rolls his eyes, but Janus can tell he only does it to mask his nerves.

“I suppose it is,” Janus muses.

“…So’re you gonna elaborate on that?”

Janus steps outside. “One block first, so you don’t decide to turn back as soon as I start talking.”

“You’re stalling,” Remy points out, but he doesn’t press the issue any further.

“So I am.”

The two walk almost one full block in companionable silence before Remy asks again, “What d’you want to talk about?”

“It hasn’t been a block yet,” Janus insists.

“Technicalities bore me. Spill.”

Sighing, Janus says with no preamble at all, “I kissed Roman.”

“Stop right there, hun. Now, I’m sorry, but you what?”

“Kissed Roman,” they repeat.

“Anything else you’re going to say about that? At all?”

“So many things.” Janus takes a breath, opens his mouth, closes it again.

“Go on then,” Remy says, gesturing for her to do so with a nod of his head.

“Right. Essentially, soulmates aren’t necessarily romantic, and I don’t love you in a romantic sense. I don’t love Roman in a romantic sense either, technically—but that’s an explanation for another day. All that matters right now is that, provided you’re alright with it, Roman and I would like to be in a queerplatonic relationship and would far prefer to be nothing more than friends with you and Logan. Close friends,” he adds, “best friends, even, but not romantically involved. There’s precedent for this sort of thing if you’re wondering, and I can pull up a few sources that I have saved—”

“No, you know, I think I’ll be fine without a lecture. I get the picture, but what do you expect me to say? That I’m not heartbroken, that I wasn’t ever in love with you either?”

“Pretty much, yes.” Janus narrows their eyes at Remy. “You aren’t heartbroken, and you weren’t in love with me, correct?”

“I, uh—”

“You don’t have to lie, especially not after I told you the same was true for me.”

“Yeah, okay. I haven’t been in love with you, I just thought that you loved me and I didn’t want to hurt you by telling you the opposite was true.”

“Well, you can stop that now. And you can admit you’re in love with Logan.”

Remy freezes. “Sorry?”

“You’re in love with Logan.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, but how did you manage to figure that out?”

Janus fixes him with an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

“…Yes?”

“Oh, Remy, darling, your crush was so obvious that I’m shocked the entire world didn’t see it.”

“It was?”

“Once I knew to look for it, very much so, yes. And you’re aware Logan loves you too, yes?”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong there.”

“And I’m pretty sure I’m not. What makes you think he doesn’t love you?”

“Well, he sorta kinda said that we shouldn’t ever speak to each other again? And like, he kissed me before that—or maybe I kissed him? And I know I was a bit pushy afterwards with confessions and all that, but I thought he was alright with me kissing him or with him kissing me and I’d been certain he was in love, but then he sort of freaked out, so I’m getting a few mixed messages. But at the same time, I think saying ‘we shouldn’t see each other for a while’ is a pretty clear rejection, don’t you?”

“I think that Logan’s a moron sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“Hush now, I meant that in the kindest way possible. He’s not very skilled at recognizing or dealing with his emotions, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong—”

“I know.”

“—but I’m still not sure if he meant it?”

“He didn’t, Remy. I can assure you of that.”

“How do you know, though?”

“Observation. That, and the fact that he tried to distance himself from you after your kiss. He didn’t want to hurt you.” Janus pauses in mock contemplation. “That, or he truly does hate you with his entire being and never wants to see you ever again in his entire life.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding, darling.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Janus says, echoing Remy’s previous words back at him with a smirk on his face.

“Mm, right.” Remy goes silent for twenty whole seconds before speaking again. “But like, should I talk to him? Just in case, or something?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s entirely necessary, and Roman should be updating him on this whole situation as we speak, but if you think you should clarify, then I suppose you— hang on.” Janus frowns, pulling their phone from their pocket and answering it.

“Roman? Yes, I’m with Remy. Why do you ask?”

She goes quiet, listening to the voice on the other end of the line before replying, “Oh?”

They laugh lightly. “Anything for you, love.” A smile still on his face, he hangs up and puts his phone away.

“What was that about?”

“That? Nothing, darling, nothing at all. If you feel so inclined though, you might want to stop by wherever it was that you first met Logan.” Janus gives him a knowing smile. “Just a thought.”

“What if I choose not to?”

“Well, I can’t exactly make you go, but I think you’d regret it if you didn’t.”

“And that means…?”

“I’m afraid that’s Logan’s secret to tell, not mine,” they say, blinking innocently. “Now, unless you absolutely have to get coffee, I’d recommend you go find the love of your life. It’s getting dark, and I wouldn’t want you to lose your way.” She flutters her fingers in a wave, turning away. “Feel free to join me if you’d like, though.”

Even though they’d offered, she knew that Remy, of course, would never put anyone or anything before Logan and sure enough, when she turned back, Remy had already vanished around the corner.

_________________________

Everyone is made of stardust; each and every creation born of the remains of long-dead stars. This dust scattered across the universe at the dawn of time, forming galaxies and planets and stars—so very many stars—continuing to do so until the inevitable heat death of the universe, a constant cycle of creation.

If everyone comes from beauty, it only makes sense that they all contain it within themselves too, and it only makes sense that all creation is, in some way, magically, enchantingly interconnected. It also makes sense, then, that the stars—having come before nearly every other object in the known universe—understand these connections better than any other. Once those facts are taken into consideration, it’s no wonder at all that it is the stars that determine soulmates, and it’s the most widely accepted scientific theory as to why they do.

Logan knows all this about the stars, knows that everything that is and was is connected in impossible, unimaginable ways.

Remy knows this too, knows that things that come from beauty have every capacity to be beautiful themselves.

They both understand this, and yet it has taken them so long—so long—to apply that knowledge to themselves. It’s only as they walk alone upon tree-lined paths lit by twilight and look up at the sky, the first stars twinkling in their eyes, that they realize that if everyone and everything is beautifully connected, then they are too. And if they’re connected so beautifully, then what force in the universe could possibly keep them apart?

_________________________

“Do you think they’ll manage to work everything out?”

“Logan and Remy?”

“Mhm.”

Janus laughs, and it sounds like a fairy tale, like a golden bell forged from magic. “Contrary to popular belief, Logan is smart, so—”

Roman snorts, and it doesn’t sound like anything more than it is. It’s not poetic, it’s not the sort of thing to be lingered on in pretentious descriptions—it just is, and that’s why it’s perfect.

“Don’t laugh,” Janus says, laughing, “He is, albeit incredibly oblivious.”

“You can say that again.” It’s a muttered phrase, never one meant to be taken seriously, but Janus hadn’t ever claimed to play by the rules.

“He is, albeit incredibly oblivious,” they deadpan before continuing as though Roman hadn’t let out a laugh like light itself, shimmering so brightly that even in its softness, it couldn’t be missed. “But either way, I have no doubt that if you could come to your senses, they will too.”

Roman shoots up from his position lying across Janus’s lap. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice may sound offended, but the glimmer in his eyes betrays him.

“Oh, nothing at all, darling. I was merely implying that if Logan is oblivious, then we would need to invent an entirely new word to describe you.” Roman gasps, and Janus can see so many of her own mannerisms in the movement that her fond smile grows, could only ever grow around him. “I mean that in the best, most adoring way, of course.” His smile may have been replaced by a smirk then, but it doesn’t stay that way as not a moment later, Roman kisses it away.

“Of course you do,” he says, leaving behind another kiss—this one on Janus’s cheek—before adjusting his position. Now his head rests on Janus’s left shoulder, and he has much easier access to the line of their jaw and unfairly beautiful cheekbones (for kissing purposes, but also for admiration ones). “I know you love me.”

“Lies and slander,” Janus claims, but she’s burying her rapidly reddening face in Roman’s hair to breathe in the sunshine and cinnamon, so her words hold little weight.

Roman only laughs again, and this time Janus can feel the way the time pauses for the briefest of moments as their boyfriend blankets the world with his own form of magic, with a laugh that feels like fairy dust.

When the world resumes its usual rotation, Roman is smiling at him again. “I know you love me,” he repeats.

“I love you,” Janus agrees, voice softer and more honest than it’s ever been. Roman melts into him, humming contentedly as his face turns upwards, eyelashes fluttering in a silent request. And how could Janus possibly say no when her boyfriend has eyes burning with such light?

Janus kisses Roman, and the sky blazes with sunshine and fire. They meet, and they are a kilonova, showering the universe in gold. They aren’t soulmates, and they aren’t quite in love, but they are everything to each other and more and somehow, some way, they are perfect. So perhaps it’s fitting, then, that they aren’t soulmates. A word such as that couldn’t possibly define all that they are.

They both know intrinsically that there is no such thing as perfection, that it’s human to be imperfect. They know that some cycles are forever fixed and that somethings are meant to end.

So even though they know this and even though they may not be soulmates and even though they are aware that it is because of the stars that they met and because of the stars that they’re together, Janus and Roman will still never go gently into darkness, into the night. Just because they understand that perfection is an impossibility does not mean that they will not fight for something as near to it as they can get in every waking moment.

And as they rage against the dying of the light, the golden star that illuminates the world fights too, and it rises once more. Bathed in its glow, Janus and Roman are both unwaveringly confident in the fact that this moment, this sunrise, this picture-perfect kiss is… perfect. They know without a shadow of a doubt that no matter how unlikely, how impossible, they are perfect.

_________________________

“It’s been a while since we were here,” Remy muses, cresting the top of the hill, smiling when Logan comes into view. “I’m glad to be back.”

“Me too,” Logan says, returning his smile, so close to appearing calm, to hiding his nerves. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“Anything for you.” Remy’s words were meant to sound cheeky, but they come out genuine in a way Logan can’t even begin to process.

Logan takes a breath when Remy is seated in front of him. “I have an apology to make.”

“Oh?” Remy cocks his head curiously. “Hun, if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I was the one who overstepped my boundaries when I shouldn’t have and kept pushing for a confession of what I thought was the truth even after you denied it so vehemently and I—”

“Remy,” Logan sighs, “you have no reason to be sorry, I assure you.”

“I— what?”

Logan takes a breath, steeling himself. “Remy, I know I hurt you when I walked off the way I did and ceased all communication with you. And I— I also lied to you that night because I was… scared. I was scared to admit what I felt because I was scared that it would hurt someone else I care about, so I denied that I— Uh, that is to say, I denied what you said. I know that’s no excuse for not telling you the truth, but I hope you can forgive me nevertheless. I’m truly sorry for hurting you, Remy.

“And I— I love you. Hurting you broke my heart, and I never want to feel like that again.” Logan clears his throat, trying to continue speaking past the emotion beginning to clog it. “In any case though, even though we aren’t star-determined soulmates, if you’ll accept me, I’d still like you to be my boyfriend, and I yours. Because if I’m being perfectly honest, no matter what kind of relationship they dictate, the stars don’t matter, not really, because I choose you. I have always chosen you.”

Remy sits there for a moment, star-struck and silent. At long last, he finds his voice returned to him. It’s breathy and barely audible, but it’s there without a doubt because Logan knows—he knows—he hears Remy ask, “Can I kiss you?”

That isn’t, after all, the sort of request you would miss for anything less than the world.

And Logan knows—he knows—he’s been gifted the most beautiful thing in existence when he replies, “For the light of my life? Anything,” and Remy leans closer and he knows—he knows—that everything in the universe is right when they collide.

Together, they are stars. And like stars, they glow brighter together, side by side before they meet and emit a light so brilliant it could be seen across galaxies. Like stars, they collide and fall into each other and become one. Like stars, once they’ve touched they steal the light from the air around them to aid their luminance, and they shine and they glimmer and they gleam and they don’t want to ever let go.

And yet, they are more radiant than the most brilliant constellations, than quasars, than every star in the sky combined—so radiant that whole galaxies pale in comparison. Logan and Remy are stars, but they are also so much more.

They are human.

They are human, and that’s why the stars look upon them with such favor. They are human and imperfect, they are human and ablaze with more dazzling, glittering, intense light than even the stars themselves could possibly fathom, they are human and they are in love.

They are human, and as they kiss beneath the clear, bright sky, they realize that this—whatever this may be—is right. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but the stars don’t make mistakes. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but they were meant to find each other. Their kiss was meant to happen.

Logan and Remy are not soulmates. No, Logan and Remy are something ineffable, something human, something more, and if that means the stars painted their destiny in a different hue, then they are glad they can see all the colors of the sky.

_________________________

It is said that nothing so beautiful lasts forever, that nothing so bright survives for long. It is said that even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, along with any secrets it holds. It is said that every beautiful thing must die.

It is said that there is no such thing as perfection, that not a single person could ever be considered flawless. It is said that even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the stars of night. It is said that everything beautiful must die.

And it is true that beauty never lasts, but it isn’t meant to. Beauty so often exists because of uncertainty, because of the flighty nature of life. Everything beautiful must die, and that is why these beautiful moments are as beloved as they are. That is why Remy and Logan look at each other like they’re stars, why Roman and Janus allow themselves to be imperfect, why Remy allows himself to be vulnerable, why Logan admits that he’s not always right, why Roman stops putting on his never-ending show, why Janus allows themself to be truly honest, and why all of them will treasure each precious second from now until the end of time.

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

[izzyfandoms]

okay okay okay for the prompts, how about queerplatonic losleep with Remy stealing Logan's clothes?

Losleep - Clothes

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1 @yourneighborhooddisaster @alexxander-the-gay @full-of-roman-angst-trash @selfcarejanus

Masterpost

Logan sighed as he looked through his ties for what must have been the fifth time. Just like the last four times, his favourite tie was not there. It certainly wasn't anywhere else, so where on earth was it?

Logan turned around, walking over to the door and leaning out of it.

"Remy, have you seen my favourite tie?"

After waiting a moment, he received an answer.

"Yup."

Logan paused, awaiting elaboration that did not come. He let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Nope."

Logan sighed again, but he was really not that surprised.

He went through the door, walking down the hallway and towards the living room, where it had sounded like Remy was. He entered the room and saw from behind that Remy was sat on the couch.

Logan walked around the couch and, as he began to say something, he cut himself off when he realised that Remy was wearing his favourite tie loosely around his neck.

He stared at him for a few seconds, and Remy took a sip of his coffee, a smug look on his face.

"Do you need something, babe?"

"You're wearing my tie."

Remy took another slow sip of his coffee.

"Yup."

Logan sighed. "And why, exactly, are you wearing my tie?"

"'Cos I can."

Logan paused, waiting for him to elaborate, but Remy did not.

"May I have it back?"

Remy paused for a moment, before he shrugged and put his coffee down on the coffee table. Then, he reached up towards his neck and undid the tie. He then handed it to Logan.

"Thank you," Logan said. "May I ask why you feel the need to steal my clothes?"

Remy stared at him for a moment, before an amused grin appeared on his face.

"Babe, are you serious, right now?"

"I am always serious," Logan said seriously, lifting the tie in his hand. "Clearly, I have a necktie."

Remy leant forward. "Babe," he said. "You're literally wearing my jacket."

Logan blinked, surprised, and looked down at himself, suddenly remembering that he was, in fact, wearing Remy's jacket. His face warmed.

"Oh. Right."

Remy laughed.

"God, I love you."

[jzixuans]

ah yes!!! here you go lad!

me being the logan angst anon that i am, do you have any recommendations for more logan angst?

hmmmm i know that @altruistic-skittles has lots of angst up her sleeve and @potestessemagishomosexualitatis has also written her fair share

i’m blanking because i don’t usually consume logan angst aljdslkfhslkdjh so if anyone else has recs please share!

[sign-from-god-complex]

Um, so you're like a Tumblr god with writing, so do you have any tips on how to get your stories noticed and out there? Thank you!

ashdgfsdh that’s so!!!! nice!!!!! ty!!! so, to be totally honest, part of my situation is that I got really lucky with one of my fics early on, where it got like,,, a lot of notes and as such I ended up with way more followers but I can still try to give some tips!!!

(this got a little long, so I’m putting it under a cut)

1. Tagging

People (me included) will go through the Sanders Sides or character tags to find stuff to reblog. Only the first five tags you throw in will actually have your work in them (i.e. if you tag ‘1′, ‘2′, ‘3′, ‘4′, ‘5′, ‘6′, the fic will only show up when you search 1-5) and it won’t show up through searches at all if you use certain words (swear words, in particular, I’ve noticed).

Making sure to tag your stuff in a way that people will see definitely helps but also make sure it’s relevant tags. People looking for prinxiety won’t be thrilled to have analogical in the tag they’re searching. You can check my fics for the way I tag them if you want!

And, in relation to a different kind of tagging, use tag lists! I know there’s some general ones online (@the-taglist-repository has a bunch) but sometimes author’s will also just straight up tell you to tag them in stuff (e.g. I love being tagged in aspec or autistic sides content, @/rosesisupposes likes being tagged in superhero AUs, @/sleepless-in-starbucks demands /j to be tagged in all losleep content, etc. etc.).

I would be careful about just tagging people though. I’m, personally, not a fan of being tagged in things that I haven’t asked to be tagged in. It strikes me a little bit as ‘you’re a big blog so I’m just using your followers to try and promote myself’, even if that isn’t the intention.

2. Make content regularly

Now, I get that regularly putting out content is definitely not as easy as just saying you will—life gets in the way sometimes and creativity is stressful—but it definitely helped me when I started writing. I wasn’t doing much else with my time (an unusual circumstance), so I was putting out like,, at least 2 fics a month. In the entirety of last year I wrote 80 fics. But seriously, the more you write, the better your writing will be (practise!) and the more likely people will see it.

You can also try doing writing games like I’ve done for follower milestones in the past. You can find lists of prompts on tumblr, reblog them and ask people to send you a prompt and a ship for you to write a drabble for. There’s also things like Secret Santa (where people trade content for the holidays) and Soulmate September is this month, organised by @tsshipmonth2020! So participating in writing events that you find could also help!

3. Interact with other writers

The biggest thing, I think, personally, to help content creators is for them to work together to lift each other up (sounds kinda cheesy but I’m serious). If you comment on other people’s work telling them how much you enjoyed their fics, I guarantee they’ll be thrilled and you may become friends! (I’ve had,,, several friendships start this way; @/sleepless-in-starbucks and @/max-is-tired, among others).

And you can interact with writers outside of tumblr too! Discord is a super great way to chat with other writers and get your fics out there, I’ve found. There’s even some discord servers dedicated specifically to writing tss fanfics (@potestessemagishomosexualitatis has a great one that I’m in and ik there’s one run by discord user ‘parallelwrites’, though I’m not certain of their tumblr URL).

4. Write what you enjoy!

I guarantee people can tell if you’re writing stuff you’re not enjoying. You don’t have to write only the most popular ships to get notes on your writing (I mean, just look at Lia, who’s basically made their blog on the foundation of losleep). You should write the things you like, even if they’re niche, cause I promise if you want to read it, there’s other people out there who do as well.

I mean, I just read a qpr sleepxiety soulmate AU that the author (@averykedavra) described as ‘self-indulgent’. I’m a huge fan of platonic/queerplatonic sleepxiety but I never see it written! It’s not popular! But Avery wrote it and I loved it. I did not expect so many people to be thrilled about my aroace-Logan coming out story! I wrote it for Me but people really seemed to enjoy it! You never know what people will love.

5. Take care of yourself

This is maybe not so much writing advice as it is a caveat for all the stuff I’ve said here. At the end of the day, writing is fun and getting praise on your stories feels awesome, and I totally get that, but you gotta make sure not to burn yourself out. I went through a period when I started fic writing where I was,,,, a little too dependant on the feedback I got and if I didn’t get what I considered “enough notes” it basically sent me into a downward spiral.

Now, that’s me and I know not everyone will feel that way, but it’s good to remember you have worth outside of what you create. If you can’t manage to write the amount you think you “should” be, that’s okay. If you can’t manage to finish a piece you’ve been working on, that’s okay. If you go for months without writing because of stress, life or simply writer’s block, that’s all okay.

You are the most important thing in your creative endeavours; don’t forget that.

[surohsopsisofclouds]

Hollyhock and Edelweiss

“Remy, they accepted it, my book, it’s published!” Logan rushed into Remy’s botanical magic shop in a whirlwind, a bright grin breaking over his face like silvery sunlight glinting off a stream. 

Said person turned towards him, a pot of angelica floating in front of them at chest level that they gently pushed back into its place; a few feet above their heads, right next to the daisies.

“See? I told yah you could do it, hun. You’ve got the talent, and more importantly the skill to be an incredible writer.” Remy walked over to Logan as they spoke, before briefly asking, “Can I hug you?” Pausing a moment to wait to see if he would give his permission, they reached up to wrap their arms around Logan when given a clear nod.

“And now that it’s published…” They paused for a moment before continuing in a teasing tone. “Do I finally get to read it? Seriously, I’ve been dying to.”

Logan gave them a dry look, shaking his head in amusement. “You have not been dying, love. You’ve merely been impatient.”

“Impatient!” They squawked dramatically. “Impatient!, I have waited for you, oh lovely poet mine-”

“I am a novelist.” Logan interrupted.

“Poet.” Remy glared at him playfully before continuing. “Whose colorful words stole away my breath with every witty syllable-”

“Which one of us is the writer, again?” Logan asked, leading them over to the counter, and then behind it to the back room, using a hint of his magic to flip the Open sign to Closed.

Remy tapped his nose playfully as they travelled up the stairs to their apartment, sending a sparkle of magic off with their laughter. “Oh shoosh, stardust, you know you love me.”

Logan leaned in close as they settled on the loveseat in the living room.

“But of course. Who else would have such an exquisite laugh that I could fall for it over and over again?” Remy flushed to their roots at that, a stammering of letters tumbling over each other as their mind stuttered from their QPP’s words.

“I- I you- you- why are you so-”

“Cat got your tongue, my bouquet of Angelicas?” Logan teased, wrapping his arms around them as they cuddled together, moving the breezes created by the ceiling fan to carry the remote over to him, pressing play on his and their favorite movie.

“You-! Oooohhhhh, why are you so perfect! It’s not fair!” Remy buried their face in Logan’s shoulder, making him laugh.

“The only reason you think I’m perfect, is because you can’t see yourself from an outside view.”

Remy sighed, giving up on trying to win their game. They moved their face out from its place nestled in Logan’s shoulder, and settled down under the blanket his magic had brought over to gently lay over the both of them.

“After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

[the-taglist-repository]

Back to Masterpost

Relationships Masterpost

(platonic, queerplatonic, romantic, parental, etc. specifications on linked lists)

ANY Sanders Sides Relationship

2 people

Analogical (Virgil + Logan)

Anxceit (Virgil + Janus)

Creativisleep (Roman + Remy | Sleep)

Creativitwins (Roman + Remus)

Dukeceit (Remus + Janus)

Dukexiety (Remus + Virgil)

Emceit (Emile Picani + Janus)

Intruality (Remus + Patton)

Intrulogical (Remus + Logan)

Intrusleep (Remus + Remy | Sleep)

Lociet (Logan + Janus)

Logicality (Logan + Patton)

Logince (Logan + Roman)

LoSleep (Logan + Remy | Sleep)

Mociet (Patton + Janus)

Moxiety (Patton + Virgil)

Nicomas/Karrot Kings (Thomas + Nico Flores)

Prinxiety (Roman + Virgil)

Remile (Remy | Sleep + Emile Picani)

Roceit (Roman + Janus)

Royality (Roman + Patton)

Sleepality (Remy | Sleep + Patton)

Sleepxiety (Remy | Sleep + Virgil)

3 people

Analogince (Virgil + Logan + Roman)

Anaroyality (Virgil + Roman + Patton)

Anarociet (Virgil + Roman + Janus)

Creativisleepality (Roman + Remy | Sleep + Patton)

Intruloceit (Remus + Janus + Logan)

Relomile (Remus + Logan + Emile Picani)

Rosleepceit (Roman + Remy | Sleep + Janus)

Rosleepxiety (Roman + Remy | Sleep + Virgil)

Royaliceit (Roman + Patton + Janus)

Twinceit (Remus + Janus + Roman)

Twinxiety (Remus + Virgil + Roman)

(Remus + Remy | Sleep + Emile Picani)

4 people

Anarosleepceit (Virgil + Roman + Remy | Sleep + Janus)

LAMP (Logan + Virgil + Patton + Roman)

Relomomile (Remy | Sleep + Logan + Patton + Emile Picani)

5 people

DLAMP (Janus + Logan + Virgil + Patton + Roman)

LAMPT (Logan + Virgil + Patton + Roman + Thomas)

6 people

DLAMPR (Janus + Logan + Virgil + Patton + Roman + Remus)

DLAMPT (Janus + Logan + Virgil + Patton + Roman + Thomas)

7 people

DLAMPRT (Janus + Logan + Virgil + Patton + Roman + Remus + Thomas)

8 people

DLAMPRRE ( Janus + Logan + Virgil + Patton + Roman + Remy | Sleep + Emile Picani)

9 people

MR LED TARP (Patton + Remy | Sleep + Logan + Emile Picani + Janus + Thomas + Remus + Roman)

more to be added on request; there are so many possible relationships. Please list all members of a relationship when requesting an addition.

[fander-pride-meetup]

This is so nice! I love the art style and how you showed every type of relationship I mentioned!!

Your style is so cute and sweet and I love how you colored in an article of clothing with the respective pride flags!

My post for @fander-pride-meetup of 2019!

Week One: Relationships

Hope you guys enjoy! Quick warning, Deceit is in this. 💕

[potestessemagishomosexualitatis]

Rating: General Audiences Relationship: Queerplatonic Losleep Summary:

Logan finds a grey hair. Remy can never know. (He already knows.)

---

Logan peers at his reflection in the mirror. With a frown, his eyes sweep over all his imperfections – the dark rings under his eyes, far more prominent with his glasses off, a cluster of pimples on his chin threatening to turn into a full break-out, and – oh goodness, what's that in his hair?

He combs his fingers through the strands, hunting for the flash of white he glimpsed amidst his black, straight locks. He's expecting to find a fleck of dandruff, or perhaps another streak of toothpaste whose location is due to some improbable magic of his own clumsiness.

But instead his fingers locate the strand, rubbing along it and – nothing. It's a perfectly ordinary strand of hair.

Which is as unforgivingly white as a blank word document.

Read More

[mypartnersaysimcute]

your moodboards are!!! really cool!! idk if you do ship moodboards but if you do could i request space-themed queerplatonic losleep (logan x sleep/remy)?

I only do LGBTQ+ or Sanders Sides ships so this is fine jadlskjdlska it's just been posted, I hope you liek it :D

[cool-chick-c-c]

five times blink and lia didn't realize they were like losleep, and one time they did

taglist: 

@sleepless-in-starbucks

@blinksinbewilderment

@moon-the-anon

@art-chive

@silvertheanon

i. "Logan has the nicest smile," Blink said resolutely. Lia gave an overexaggerated gasp.

"Blink has the nicest smile!"

Blink stopped mid-step. "But Lia, I am Logan." She pouted. "Take that."

"Mm-hmm. And you think I'm gonna forget everything you praise about Logan? It's all just fuel for the loving-Blink fire."

"Lia!"

"Yep! And Lia, sir, you are comfort! Comfort and nice and sassy!" chimed a girl with a dolphin t-shirt.

"Are you describing Remy? You're describing Remy," deadpanned Lia.

"You are Remy," piped up another girl in pink.

Lia pressed a hand to their chest. "I am."

"Lia? Lia, Losleep." Blink smiled.

"Losleep," agreed Lia.

ii. "Blink. Go to bed. You need the sleebs." Lia wrapped their arms around Blink.

"Lia." Blink slid back in her desk chair. "You're just as guilty as I am."

Lia was already at the door. "Fine. We shall revolt against the sinking of the sun together."

"Baking?"

"Baking." Blink slid off her chair and joined Lia.

iii. "Wait, Lia. You're going to ask someone out?" asked a girl with three lipstick marks on her t-shirt. "That's great!"

"Yep! But, you know, queerplatonically." Lia laughed. “I shall not--”

"It's Blink, isn't it?" another person with lines arranged in a seemingly random pattern on their shirt asked.

"Soulmate. Sleebs."

"Yeah, it's Blink." A third person in a glittery silver shirt added.

"Back to the anon closet. All of you."

"Into the possible TARDIS!" yelled the girl with the lipstick marks.

iv. Blink was lying flat on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She turned her head to Lia.

"Lia, I'm so tired. I want cuddles," she mumbled.

"Cuddles are a must, yes." Lia nodded. "But first... tickle fight!"

They lowered themselves onto the bed and started tickling Blink. She started sputtering and trying to swat Lia's hands off, but it was no use.

"Stop, I can't--" She broke into a fit of giggles. Blink darted towards the end of the bed and grabbed a pillow.

"You are not turning this into a--" Lia was cut off by a pillow to their face. "Oh, it is on!" They tossed another pillow in Blink's direction.

A few minutes later, both of them were collapsed on the bed, cheeks flushed. Lia smiled as they ran their fingers through Blink's hair.

"Blink. You're stellar. I want you to be my QPR." No response. "Blink?"

The only answer came in the soft rise and fall of her chest, and Lia smiled softly.

"Maybe later."

v. "Hey?" Lia brushed a lock of hair out of their face. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead." Blink patted the chair next to hers.

"Blink, lovely, lovely you, can you be my QPR?"

Blink gasped. "Yes. Yes, Lia, I will be your QPR." She squealed and wrapped her arms around them. "And may I just compliment the stars in your eyes?"

"Only if I can compliment the universe in your mind."

vi. "Lia?" another kid in a t-shirt asked. "Aren't you and Blink basically Losleep?"

"No!" Lia rolled their eyes. "Blink and I are nothing like Losleep, not even if I'm Remy...and Blink's...Logan. Oh my god, we're Losleep."

"Did...did you just notice?" asked Blink.

"Well, yeah, but..." Lia groaned. Blink wrapped her arms around them again.

"You guys are so dumb and so in love," muttered the girl in pink. "I'm so documenting this."

[sign-from-god-complex]

holy shit, this is so fucking soft, lia, oh my god, I love them so goddamn much!!!!!!!!

Tremors and What Calms Them

Ao3

Summary: Remy couldn’t stop shaking. Not by nyxself, anyways. Content: (Involuntary) shaking, horrible self-care/a lack of self-care, loss of time/not realizing time’s passing, mentions of sleep-deprivation and starvation, self-deprecation, nb!remy, nb!logan, honestly pretty soft Pairing: QPR/Romantic Losleep (up to interpretation)

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    Remy couldn’t stop shaking.

    Shaking wasn’t really the word for it- that suggested it was visible, that everyone could see, could ask about. It was more akin to trembling, every muscle beneath nyx skin contracting and un-contracting just enough to leave nyx feeling shaky without truly shaking. Not to mention the headache that didn’t burn, just hurt, and the way ny could just barely feel nyx heart thumping against nyx chest every other minute.

    Of course, Remy knew why ny was feeling like this, why everything was wrong. While no one would ever deem nyx the poster child for self-care, ny was normally fairly good at maintaining some semblance of it. Recently, however… well.

    But ny was fine, really! It wasn’t fun to be constantly shaking like ny was three wrong words away from a panic attack, but that was alright! It wasn’t like Remy was collapsing or anything!

    Falling over, on the other hand? Yeah, Remy was doing that.

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