#sadly I am far too slow at art to do every single prompt so instead I've picked out one for each set of my fankids :>

[missholoska]

attempting some doodles for @atdffpetra's UT Fankidtember!

this one's Day 1 (First Meeting) and Day 2 (Puppy) combined, with Dogamy and Dogaressa's triplets meeting their baby brother ✨

[laytonsartblog]

Okay so I'm dumb here's a one shot

I know I said everything that's a story would be posted on AO3, but, I have dumbass energy and was inspired by the reblog I made earlier and it is 2 am on a school night so WOOO incoherency is at an ALL TIME HIGH

@infinimay whoop tagged u for what I'll call the Bus Duty AU

Perhaps I'll make this a series?? Something light, fluffy, nothing too heavy on the angst (okay I lied)

--

The Wheels on the Bus (Spin the Tales of Love)

Chapter 1., Like Patton

Virgil and Damian woke up to get to school at precisely 7:30 am, and to be ready by 8:10 for when their bus arrived, every school day.

Their mother, which is now Virgil's stepmother, always said that a tight schedule and tighter patience is what wins people over. That must be how she got Virgil's idiot dad, who took nearly three years of coy smiles and teasing touches to even start dating. They had married this year, and while Virgil is certainly happy about it, he didn't realize that it came with having to deal with a new stepbrother.

That's why, instead of 7:30 and 8:10, Virgil rises at 7:15 and is waiting by 8:00. Their mother never notices, never needing to wake up this early for work, and their dad works night shift. They were by themselves, but they handled it for nine year olds. Virgil especially figured out how to handle it as soon as he figured out that despite all this change, he was still by himself.

"Vi! Vi!" Damian, or DeeDee as he liked to be called, shouted as he approached Virgil at the bottom of the street. "Why do you never wait for me?"

Virgil shrugged. "I don't know, you give me a weird feeling, like cooties, but nice? Like wriggling worms in my head. It's sticky."

There was silence between them as they waited for their bus.

"You give me wiggly feelings too. Truce?" Damian suddenly said after what seemed to be forever to their adorable little minds, and he outstretched a hand.

Virgil took it. "Pleasure doing business, Worm boy."

Damian pouted and pulled his hand back, but didn't need to wait much longer in cute anger as the bus pulled up to their street. Seemingly forgetting the nickname, he pulled Virgil along onto the bus.

"Hey, kiddos!" their favorite, and only bus driver greeted as they sat in the front row.

Virgil never liked the bus, despite how early he was this year. It was loud and cranky and he had to sit next to DeeDee and there were always the mean kids who flicked his head as if a ping-pong ball on the way to their seats. The one thing that made it bearable was the fact he got to sit close to Patton.

Patton had allowed them to use his first name from the get go, inspiring names like "Patting!" from the kindergarteners or "Shatting" from the mean sixth graders. Virgil never tainted the name for he saw no reason to change what was already his favorite part of the morning.

Patton gave them treats on their birthday, never forgetting a single one. Patton hugged them when they were sad and showed them that crying was okay. Patton never yelled or screamed when things got too loud; he knew better than to plague these children with learned behavior, scorn, and hatred. Instead he'd play games that involved the whole bus to busy everyone, or at the very least play music and encourage them to sing along or guess the song.

Patton made things better. But Virgil knew he was sad.

Today, even with Damian's unwavering questions at everything he saw and with the fake stories he kept saying to the kid in the seat next to them, even he could tell that their bus driver was tired.

The two observant fourth graders watched as their second father didn't smile as brightly as he usually did whenever he greeted the kids getting on. He sagged; sluggish and baggy. Virgil noticed he looked a lot like his cousin Remy before a test under his eyes.

However, despite how observant, Virgil never knew how to comfort the gentle man. It's why he and Damian are in the front row. The doctors said he has a "speech impediment" where he couldn't put the words in his head to the outside world quite right. They said his brain was wrong. He knew Damian had a streak of lying and throwing tantrums. It's why he didn't like his new brother; he only served to make him look stupider.

Still, that didn't stop Virgil from putting a hand to Patton's shoulder, at least not entirely. He didn't expect for him to gasp and jump, but Virgil didn't exactly know what to expect anyway. He just pulled his hand back and looked down at his ripped pants in shame the rest of the bus ride.

--

They got there slower than Virgil had thought, but no, they were on time. Perhaps his brain was being weird again? He couldn't tell, but either way he walked begrudgingly by Damian into the school.

They passed by their school's office on the way into the gym, which is where you wait until school started. Virgil, again, ever the observant one, saw his school secretary in the window.

He was what was best described as professionally squabbled, or in Virgil's terms, cleanly messy. Mr. Nguyen had hair that was combed back just so and glasses that hid all his worries and fears. He had impeccable pressed ties that, on the occasion, got festive when a holiday came around. He had skilled hands and Virgil hadn't walked by a day where he wasn't working or presenting a board meeting or, if he wasn't doing that, wasn't there at all for the whole day.

Virgil never really disliked Mr. Nguyen. He had no reason to like him either. But right now, Virgil could see he looked exactly like Patton did; utterly miserable.

"Hey, DeeDee, y'see Mr. Nguyen? In the window?" Virgil whispered as he sat right at the entrance so he could get a good look at him.

Damian merely ignored him. "We always see him. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is," Virgil started, already frustrated with the words that wouldn't come out. "He like- he- he's Patton today."

Damian rose a brow, a suspicious trait he most likely picked up from his mother. "You mean he looks like Patton did today?"

Virgil could only nod in relief. "Yeah! He looks Patton today. Do you think the teachers look like that today?"

Damian scanned around the room. He saw nothing out of the ordinary on the teachers' face. However, he did spot a certain trashy boy that Damian all but felt puppy love for. He waved him over. "Rem! Rem!"

The boy, peeking from the corner around his preoccupied brother at his name being called, grinned a crooked and partially toothless grin and ran over to Damian. They merely embraced before Remus took out his backpack, no doubt to reveal some gross frog from his collection.

Virgil cared less and just kept staring at the office, seeing Patton and a few other drivers come in for their mandatory morning report before they head out to go back to whatever they do when not driving. Patton still looked like a walking corpse.

Virgil vowed to take that frown away.

However, the school bell had other plans.

--

Virgil thinks that time really has slowed down, and maybe it isn't his stupid brain.

Every minute of class felt not as much a blur as it usually was. Usually, class was as easy as it got, and today he even got to skip out of gym for speech classes. He liked the speech teacher, Valerie. She allowed him to say her first name like Patton did. Virgil liked Valerie too.

But even his marvel at how fantastic his day had been so far didn't distract him from the fact his bus driver was unhappy.

Virgil sat with Damian and all the other broken kids at lunch. Remus was there too, and as much as he loved Damian off his back, the two talking about frogs and the fact the French eat frog legs was already starting to get on his nerves. He just focused on his sandwich and juice box, never saying a word.

It became time to throw out the food, and Virgil knew it was gametime. He looked to everyone at the table before rushing, the other two running to throw out their styrofoam plates the fastest.

Sadly, like always, Virgil's dreams of success were barred by Remus's long, nimble legs and long, skinny arms.

Virgil wanted to pout and tell them that Remus always wins, but Mr. Glover came in to clean and one look sent the three of them scrambling to recess.

--

Today they had art time, and Virgil had never been more determined in his life.

He grabbed construction paper, glue, crayons, markers, tape, and a How-To: pop up book. They were supposed to be making Thanksgiving cards for one of the staff members, and technically he was following what he was supposed to do. It was just that Patton's name hadn't been listed on the board to write to for their fake post office.

No matter. He would make the best card ever to cheer up his favorite and only bus driver. Damian seemed more interested in watching Remus eat the glue stick and then calling for them to go to the nurse.

Virgil ignored the two's antics in favor of focusing on his masterpiece.

--

Finally, at the end of the day, with high hopes and spirits and even better hope for Patton, Virgil all but ran to the bus he remembers so clearly beyond anything else. Damian followed close behind, sitting beside him in the seat they always sat.

Virgil heard Patton greet him, as always. Virgil could still hear how tired he was. He looked as pale as Virgil did.

Virgil, without prompting, took out his card and shoved it into Patton's hands before taking his seat and covering himself up with his hoodie as far in the seat as he could go.

Patton watched the young boy sat back down in a hurry before looking down at the card. The craftsmanship, of course, could be better, but honestly Patton could hardly care. He read the "I Think Your Cool" at the top and then a hand drawing of a turkey, covered in glitter and Patton's signature blue.

Patton almost cried, and then did cry when he saw the inside.

It held handwritten words with a picture of presumably Virgil fighting away the storm clouds over Patton; the bus with muscles and also beating up the stormcloud. The words wrote "I saw your sad face. I want to fix it. See! Fixed it!"

When Patton looked up, sniffling and holding the card dear to his heart, he saw Virgil peaking out from his jacket. That little boy held the softest smile and even Damian stopped for a moment to grin, gap tooth apparent but not even a hint of malice could fill Patton at this moment.

Last night had been so awful, but maybe today hadn't been so bad. No, today had been fantastic. Virgil fixed his heart for just a moment.

Edit: the card! Made by moi