#sander sides writing

[part-time-zombie]

Headcanon that remus likes to take some idioms very literally, as in he'll physically manifest symptoms of them as a joke.

He's daydreaming and all of a sudden his head is surrounded by clouds. Patton freaks out thinking his head is on fire, until remus tunes back in and they disappear. (Head in the clouds)

Someone gives him a compliment or shows him genuine kindness and he immediately throws up a bunch of butterflies. Logan shrugs it off as him just eating things he's not supposed to again, and remus doesn't try to correct him. (Butterflies in your stomach)

This idea just came to me and ngl I kinda love it

(if you have any other metaphors/idioms please add them to this, I'd love to see how much other stuff he could do)

[loganslowdown4]

Roman: Wha- and just WHAT do you think you’re wearing?

Virgil: Uh, a hoodie and jeans… like always-

Roman: We’re going to a wedding!

Virgil: Yeah, and..?

Roman: It’s our wedding!!

[lefaystrent]

Virgil wanders into the living room looking for something to do. Or someone to terrorize. Eh, he's not really picky at the moment.

He finds Logan sitting on the couch with a paperback book and pencil in hand. So entranced is he that he doesn't stir at Virgil's entrance. He marks something on a page. His foot idly rotates where he's got it crossed at the knee.

"Whatchya up to?" Virgil asks.

Logan's eyes remain focused. "Sodoku."

"Bless you."

Virgil has the satisfaction of seeing Logan's eye twitch. "Virgil, I know that you know what Sodoku is."

"Yeah, but can you prove it?"

"Yes, but as you are being willfully obstinate, I feel no inclination to."

Virgil snorts good-naturedly. He ambles closer and kind of sways back and forth. He's in a good mood and doesn't feel inclined to take Logan's dismissiveness to heart. Besides, if he's being a true bother, Logan would plainly tell him.

"Willfully obstinate is a step up from anxious mess, so hey, I'll take it."

Logan frowns and glances up now, but when he sees Virgil's smirk, he levels an unamused stare that shows he clearly knows what Virgil is up to. He lowers the puzzle book. "Virgil, you seem to have an abundance of free time at the moment."

"I wouldn't say abundant, but yeah, I'm free."

"Fantastic. You should join me in my downtime. Perhaps you will glean the intricacies of Sodoku via observation."

Virgil rolls his eyes. "Yeah, L. I'll help you with your puzzle."

Virgil doesn't sit down so much as falls onto the cushion, letting his body drop against Logan's side. Logan bounces slightly and adjusts, but doesn't move away or discourage the closeness. He holds the book up so Virgil can see from where he leans his head against Logan's shoulder. There are some squares filled in with numbers, but overall there are only two rows completely filled in. Most of the other blank squares have tiny numbers penciled into the corners. Probably Logan's way of systematically ruling out possibilities.

After a moment of scanning, Virgil ticks his tongue. "I see where your problem is."

"What? What do you see?" Logan asks, way too invested at the thought he may have overlooked something or made a mistake.

Hiding a grin, Virgil points at a random square. "This one is supposed to be eleven."

There's a pause in which Virgil definitely does not cackle. His amusement is all inward, but he watches Logan like a hawk for the beautiful moment of realization.

Logan doesn't disappoint. He goes on an entire face journey that starts with, "Oh, maybe Virgil's right," and ends with, "how dare you." The last bit is directed straight at Virgil and Virgil merely gazes back innocently. It's not a look that comes across naturally on him and he knows it, but that's not the point.

Virgil shrugs. "Then again, what do I know about Sodoku?"

Logan bookmarks the page with his pencil, then reaches up to tap Virgil on the nose. "Ob-stin-ate." He punctuates each syllable with a gentle tap.

Virgil giggles afterwards, airy and care-free, but he'll deny it later.

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you're in the hive, the other bees assume you're supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Summary:

Virgil accidentally gets absorbed by his best friend's brother's polycule.

In his defense, they keep feeding him every time they see him, and Patton's cooking is really good.

Chapter 1: Halloween Party

Wordcount: 1.9K

~

There are a lot of people Virgil doesn't know at this party. Remus is here, somewhere, and Virgil needs to find him again before the party ends, because Remus was his ride and he doesn't want to get left here. Janus is here too though, and Virgil doesn't think Janus would let Remus leave without him, and he's sure Remus wouldn't desert Janus, so he's trying not to worry too much about the fact that he doesn't currently know where Remus is.

But that's it for people Virgil knows, and Remus didn't even bother to introduce him to anyone before fucking off to who knows where, and Virgil’s certainly not going to walk up to a random stranger and introduce himself, so he's currently appreciating the snack table. If he's eating or deliberating on what to eat next, he can't be expected to talk to anybody, right?

“’Scuse me, itsy bitsy,” someone says from behind him, and Virgil turns to see a vaguely familiar man in a dazzling prince costume holding a fresh plate of deviled eggs.

Virgil moves so that the prince dude can set the plate down on a clear spot on the table, and frowns. “I'm taller than you, Princey.”

Prince dude shrugs, plucks one of the eggs up, and takes a large bite. “Lucky you, or we'd've had to ask you to vacate the premises,” he says. “No little spiders allowed, real or fake.”

Which, yeah, now that he's mentioned it, Virgil had noted an extreme lack of spider-themed decorations, which is unusual for Halloween. Usually there'd at least be spiderweb cupcakes, but the cupcakes at this party are mostly cute ghosts.

There's probably a good reason for that, Virgil realizes with a sinking feeling. “Should I change?”

“You got another costume handy, or were you planning on spinning a spider-silk cocoon and metamorphosing into a butterfly?”

Virgil grimaces. “No,” he admits.

Prince Dude considers him. “It's not very realistic,” he says, which is true. Virgil hadn't been going for realism, he'd been going for passable costume I can make on short notice. He's wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, and he'd cut some pool noodles in half and wrapped them in more black cloth and stuck them to his back for the other four legs. It had been a pain to get them to stay in place properly, actually, and he'd ended up sewing their wrappings to the back of his hoodie in order to keep them where he wanted them. He'd been pretty proud of it, given that Remus had dropped “we're going to a costume party at my brother's house” on him like an hour beforehand, but now he's wishing he'd come up with any other idea. He could have put a sheet over his head and been a ghost, or something. Granted, that would have required him to have a sheet that was both white and that he was willing to cut holes in, which he didn't, but still.

Prince Dude continues to quietly scrutinize Virgil, and he wants to squirm under his gaze. Eventually, the guy shrugs and says, “Might be best to ask the scaredy-cat himself. Wait here, I'll be back.” And he saunters off before Virgil can answer.

For lack of anything better to do, Virgil picks up a deviled egg and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. It's really tasty, actually, and now he's wishing he'd taken smaller bites rather than horking it down in one.

Virgil had thought that Princey was just being mean with the “scaredy-cat” thing, but the guy he's talking to now actually is dressed as a calico cat. Prince Dude points back at Virgil, and Mister Calico Cat glances in his direction, then turns back to Princey. Virgil can't hear what they're saying, but he supposes Prince Dude must've asked Calico if Virgil’s costume was too creepy crawly scary.

They talk for way longer than Virgil had expected, and he can't tell if Calico's response was more like “No, he's fine,” or more along the lines of “Yes, that's terrifying, please have him removed immediately from my sight and also my home.”

He occupies himself with another deviled egg. If he's going to get kicked out, he might as well enjoy some more of this tasty food first.

Oh, fuck. Remus.

Remus isn't going to want to leave early just to take Virgil home, and Virgil still doesn't know where he even is! Fuck!

Well, Remus could have warned him not to be a spider, so if Virgil gets kicked out of the party it'll be at least partly Remus's fault. Virgil doesn't know anybody here, but Remus knows at least half these people, and if Calico’s spider aversion is enough that there are no spider-themed decorations in the house on Halloween, that sounds like the kind of thing Remus would know about.

Granted, Remus revels in being gross and annoying, but still! He's not a total dick. He should have told Virgil.

Fucker.

Calico vanishes into the other room, and Prince Dude comes back over to Virgil. He doesn't look like he's about to kick Virgil to the curb, at least. Virgil braces himself anyway.

“Good news!” Princey says with a grin. “Li’l Mister Muffet says you don't look like a creepy crawly death dealer and he doesn't have the urge to remove you with arson!”

Virgil blinks. “...gooood?” he says slowly. He hadn't even considered kill it with fire being a potential response to his costume. That would have been worse than just getting kicked out of the party, actually.

“Honestly you're much more Doc Ock in silhouette, Spider-Man,” Princey continues. “That helps a lot.”

Virgil glances back at where Prince Dude and Calico had been chatting. “So he didn't leave the room because he can't stand the sight of me?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, he wanted to make another plate of horse devours,” Princey says, reaching past Virgil to grab a cupcake off the table. This one has a little frosting bat.

“A plate of what?” Virgil says, because surely he didn't hear that right.

“Little snacks,” Prince Dude clarifies instead of repeating himself. “Our fridge is crammed with delicious bits and bobs. It's been so hard to resist the temptation to eat them before the party.” He bites appreciatively into his cupcake, then adds with his mouth full, “You'd think he wouldn't notice what with how much he made, but nooo, sneak one chocolate covered cherry before party time and it's a lengthy scolding for you!” Princey sighs dramatically, then cheerfully devours the rest of his cupcake.

“...hors d'oeuvres?” Virgil says hesitantly.

“Yeah, a couple ordervs of deviled eggs, cheese and crackers, and those scrumptious little pinwheel things,” Princey says. Virgil’s not sure if Princey actually doesn't know how hors d'oeuvres is pronounced, or if he's messing with him, but then Princey gives him a mischievous grin that one, confirms that yes, Princey does know what he's doing, and two, is so familiar that it freezes Virgil in place as the pieces click together in his brain.

The lack of a mustache makes Prince Dude's face look different, and so does the way he did his makeup, and he carries himself differently, but it's undeniable all the same: Virgil knows that grin.

This is Remus's twin brother.

Now that he's connected the dots (you haven't connected shit) the family resemblance is clear even to Virgil’s honestly rather faceblind eyes.

This is Remus's brother, and it's his house they're partying at.

… Virgil doesn't remember the guy's name.

Fuck, he should've made sure he at least knew who the party hosts were, especially the one related to his mischief goblin of a best friend.

Well he can't exactly ask now, can he?

“Also like, five types of cupcakes,” Princey continues, oblivious to Virgil’s inner turmoil. “Seriously, have you tried the cupcakes? Chef Boiardelightful made multiple separate batches of different flavors, from scratch. And they're all delicious!”

Virgil smirks. “And did you try to snitch them before the party too?”

Princey gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest. “How could you accuse me of such a thing!?” he protests with exactly as much dramatic emotion as Virgil would expect from Remus's twin. “For your information, I did not! I merely sampled a portion of the batter left on the spatula after the cupcakes had gone into the oven. Also some of the frosting.”

“He means that he licked the bowls clean,” says a new voice, and Virgil does not jump out of his skin, thank you very much. And even if he did jolt a little, it's nothing to the startled squawk Princey emits.

Calico's back, holding a platter of little finger sandwiches on toothpicks. He offers them up to Virgil, who takes one. “Thanks.”

“No worries, kiddo!” Calico says cheerfully, and puts the rest of the platter down on the snack table. Princey plucks up two sandwiches by their toothpicks, and gets a stern look in response. “Make sure to leave some for the guests,” Calico scolds.

“My delightful and beloved Patissier,” Princey says, cupping Calico's face gently with his free hand. “I assure you that each of our guests could have a heaping plateful of food and we would still have leftovers until next Tuesday. No-one will be going home hungry.”

It really is an impressive spread. Everything Virgil’s tried has been really good. Remus really could have played up the ‘free food’ angle more when trying to convince Virgil to come. If he'd known the food would be this good, then overriding his usual party-related reservations—it's gonna be loud, there will be a lot of people, I don't know anybody, etc—would have been a lot easier. Then again, Virgil probably wouldn't have believed him. He'd mostly been expecting pizza and cheap beer, honestly, not– not homemade delicacies.

The tiny sandwich Calico gave him is lightly toasted, with some kind of sliced-meat-and-cream-cheese filling, and a little green leafy garnish on top. It definitely looks much fancier than most things Virgil eats, and he can understand why Calico doesn't want Princey to eat them all. That probably took a decent amount of effort. He almost feels bad eating it himself, except that Calico had offered it to him specifically, and it would probably be more rude at this point to not eat it.

“Are you sure my costume is okay?” Virgil asks, interrupting the minor squabble Princey and Calico had fallen into.

“Oh, yes, you're fine,” Calico assures him. “Trust me, if you were pinging my brain as an actual spider I wouldn't be in the room right now, let alone standing next to you.”

“Really, cause most cats I know would eat a spider soon as look at it,” Virgil quips, and is rewarded with Calico laughing.

“That wouldn't be very good host-ly of me, now would it?” he says. “I would never eat a guest!”

“Not unless they're a reptile with scallions,” Princey teases, and Calico flushes.

“Hey!” he protests, swatting Princey's shoulder with one hand and trying to cover his extremely red face with the other. Virgil wonders what the reference was, exactly, but doesn't think it's his place to ask. It seems rather personal, from how hard Calico is blushing.

…maybe he'll ask Remus later if he knows what the story there is.

~~~~

Chapter 2: The Morning After

[logan-the-artist]

does it ever get lonely up there on the wall?

to be looked at but never to hold

mister porcelain doll

[starlocked01]

When will Fanders stop acting like Thomas is a fanfic writer of his own series?

He's the writer. How can he possibly write the characters "out of character"? He's got a better perspective and understanding of all of them that no one else can possibly have. Just because he expressed doubt in his ability to write them after Joan moved on from the show doesn't mean he actually never had a grasp on them.

🙄

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

Hc that even though Virgil is red/green colour blind (specifically like a dog) and even though he can’t see purple, it’s his favourite colour.

He had just recently broken things off with Janus. It was messy, and loud, and he would rather die than have anything to do with Janus ever again in his life.

He went to the only person he could think to help him with it. The romance extraordinaire, creative prince himself, Roman. He went to him for a distraction.

“Uh, what’s your favourite colour?” Roman asked after Virgil’s sobs had died down for a bit.

Virgil looked up from the tear soaked satin pillow he’d been wailing into, Roman just a blurry grey mess in front of him.

“I don’t— fuck. I don’t *know*!” He almost screamed, shoving his face back in the pillow.

Roman’s hand rubbed his shoulder, and he muttered to him softly in his efforts to comfort him. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Do you want to pick one now? Hm… which colours *can* you see again?”

“Uh… blue, grey, and—“ Virgil’s voice came out muffled until he choked on tears again. “Fucking yellow.”

“Ah.”

“What’s the farthest away from *yellow* that I can get?”

Roman didn’t even hesitate before he answered. “Purple. It’s on the other end of the colour wheel.”

“*That*. Purple’s my favourite. Anything that isn’t close to *him*.”

Roman nodded, barely stifling a laugh. “Purple’s a good colour. The colour of royalty!”

Virgil’s tears stopped for a moment. “Are you purple?”

“No— No, I wear red and white.”

Virgil pulled his head back up, a broken grin on his teary and mascara stained face. “You’re a prince and you don’t wear purple?!”

[prodigal-explorer]

how to write children's personalities

(this is part of my series, how to write children in fanfiction! feel free to check it out if you want more info like this!)

this is the main aspect of writing children that i see people mess up so often, especially in the fandoms i'm in (sanders sides and undertale). children are not adorable little noodles with no brains and no concept besides being cute and silly and crying. children are beings that are just as complex as adults, and they deserve personalities to match. this will make them way more interesting to read about! let's get started!

since there are so many aspects to personality to talk about and i don't want to sit here typing for ten years, we're going to do this guide a little differently. i'm going to divide these issues into archetypes, write a short description, and then make a list of do's and don't's for each one!

archetype one: the cute little baby

okay. babies are cute. we all know this, and i'm not saying it's a bad thing to make your babies cute. a lot of people love reading about moments with adorable little babies. but here are some ways to step this kind of thing up, and some things to avoid if you want to improve upon writing this archetype.

do's:

give the child character another archetype besides this one. though "cute" is the foundation for a lot of child characters, it's not a personality. and if a character is vital to your story, then it needs a personality. that's just a rule. you will read more about other archetypes further along in this post!

make the moments symbolic. though it doesn't seem like it from an outsider's perspective, basically everything a baby does is for a reason, and every action a baby makes can say something about their personality. if you want this baby's personality to be energetic and curious, have them crawl around and explore things, and laugh a lot, and babble. if you want this baby to be more sullen and shy, have them cry quietly instead of wailing, or have them squirm when being held by new people.

make the actions of the baby's guardians affect the mannerisms of the baby. babies act differently depending on how the people taking care of them act and react. for instance, if the baby's guardians are very busy people, then maybe have the baby cry very loudly whenever they want something, since they know that it's the only way to get the attention of their guardians. stuff like that can add depth to a character and to a general story.

don't's:

decide that the baby is cute and call it a day. sweet little babies are cool and all, but they get very boring to read about after a while. this can barely even be considered an archetype because of how bland it is when it's by itself.

keep this archetype around for too long. as babies turn into toddlers and then children, they don't act even remotely the same way. it's strange and off-putting to read about a seven year old acting like a two-year old, unless it's a very clear character choice that is a result of explicit actions and events.

make the baby know that it's cute. realistically, children don't understand the concept of cuteness until they're around toddler age. if then, you want to make the kid be like "i get what i want when i'm cute, so i'll act cute!", then sure, that's hilarious. but when they're two months old, they're not batting their eyelashes because that's their personality. they're batting their eyelashes because they got something in their eye. the main thing that makes a baby cute is that they don't know they're cute. they're just figuring out how to do ordinary things.

make everything a cute moment. while babies are awesome, raising them isn't always sunshine and rainbows. make the baby do something wildly chaotic, because babies do wildly chaotic things all the time. not only does this make things more realistic, but it makes things very interesting!

archetype two: the shy kid

as a former shy kid, i know good and well that these types of children exist, and they are very real and valid. however, there are certain ways i've seen them written that are just terrible because once again, this archetype cannot be considered a full personality on its own. let's get into the do's and don't's.

do's:

make their shyness a deliberate choice. kids aren't usually naturally shy. kids are usually more curious than cautious. is there a reason why the kid is shy? there doesn't have to be a reason why the kid is shy, but there could be a reason why the child is NOT outgoing/curious. try and give something like this some deliberate cause, instead of just making them shy so they can seem more precious and infantilized.

make their shyness manifest in diverse ways. not all shy kids cling to their guardian's leg and sit alone during recess. there are different ways to be shy. you can be aggressively shy, or fearfully shy, or shy due to general unwillingness to change.

make their shyness have realistic consequences. someone who's shy is probably not going to have many friends, if any. not all shy kids magically meet an extrovert who adopts them. someone who's shy probably has underdeveloped social skills, which can lead to them being less emotionally intelligent down the line. this makes the shy kid archetype a lot more three-dimensional than just a wet noodle of fear.

don't's:

infantilize shyness or treat it like it makes the kid some sweet, precious angel. not only is this very uncomfortable for shy people to read, but it's generally unrealistic. shyness doesn't affect how good or bad somebody is - it's a neutral trait.

use shyness as a tool to make characters seem younger. shyness does not indicate age. fear manifests in many different ways, and shyness is not the only way.

rely on cliches. not all shy people have the same journey, and the idea that a shy person becoming more outgoing is the "goal" is not only a bit offensive, but it's very cliche. shyness is not always an obstacle to be overcome.

archetype three: the happy-go-lucky kid

oftentimes, the reason why children characters are written into stories in the first place is to give a little bit of lightheartedness and innocence. to add a unique voice among all the cranky, stingy, burdened adults. but you have to be careful when writing this archetype. i personally really dislike this archetype as a whole, but i'm going to put personal feelings towards it aside because honestly, there's no valid reason to dislike it besides opinion.

do's:

give the kid a trademark. maybe this kid makes a lot of little jokes, or maybe they always see the best in a situation. give the kid one thing that makes them happy-go-lucky instead of just giving them everything because nobody is endlessly happy all the time in every way.

go deeper. while happiness is very often genuine, sometimes, it's a mask that hides something else. this can be an interesting way to sort of spice up your happy-go-lucky kid character. maybe the kid is hiding a big secret behind all those jokes.

don't's:

make the character always happy. while children tend to have simpler thoughts, they don't have simpler minds. this child needs to have thoughts, real, genuine thoughts that aren't just happy things.

see happy-go-lucky as a trait that is exclusive to children. comparing happiness to childhood and viewing them as the only places where the other can exist is just wrong, and it's kind of depressing. maybe give happy-go-lucky kid a happy-go-lucky adult to exchange jokes with!

---

those are the archetypes that i see a lot. but now, i'm going to suggest a few child character archetypes that i LOVE that i don't see enough in fics! feel free to use any of these that you like. alter them, combine them! these are, in my opinion, some of the most fun child character personalities!

the spoiled brat: "i want this, and that, and that, and- why aren't you giving it to me?? if you don't give me what i want, i'll tell on you!". spoiled brats are so fun to read and write about, especially when they have absolutely no reason to be spoiled given the current situation (think riches to rags). they've got everything, humor, angst, and best of all, lots of pockets for personality. think about why the child is spoiled. were they enabled by their guardians? did they grow up rich, with access to everything they wanted? think about whether you want the child to stay spoiled. does something change? do they learn how to improve their materialistic and selfish tendencies? there are so many opportunities to play with the personality of this child!

the know-it-all kid: while i do see a lot of know-it-all kids in media, oftentimes, they don't actually have personality besides bossiness and intelligence. i love know-it-all kids who have depth to them. kids who are constantly spouting information because of their sheer love to learn. kids who have one specific thing that they know everything about, so they never stop talking about it. kids who tell people what to do and act like they know best because they don't have a lot of control over anything at home, so they grasp at whatever control they can find elsewhere. i think this archetype could open up a lot of ideas for personality further down the line. it also has a lot of variety with humor and angst, and general depth.

the serious child: this is an archetype that i cannot get enough of. i love a child that doesn't think they're an adult, per se, and still enjoys kid things, but just has such a calm and regal air about them that isn't learned. it's just natural. think of the kid that doesn't really get excited about things conventionally, but you can tell they're happy by their faint smile. the kid that seems to live in slow motion, and doesn't mind this fact at all. the kid that sits alone at recess just because other kids scare the birds away, and they want to see how a bird acts when it doesn't think its being watched. i love kids who have poignant thoughts, because their thoughts are so creative and different from adult thoughts.

the adult-ified child: now this is another archetype i can't get enough of, but it's for a different reason. this child, on the other hand, does think that they're an adult for one reason or another. maybe their guardians forced them to grow up too quickly. maybe they just wanted to grow up quickly by themselves. but this child has thoughts that are too big for their little bodies. they explore things that aren't meant to be explored when their brains are still so small. they do everything too quickly, they stumble through life as if a clock is ticking somewhere. to me, they're just haunting to read about. it feels wrong and dangerous to just watch them do things that hurt them because they don't know any better, but they're on a page. nobody can stop them. it's just so tragic, i'm obsessed.

the prodigal child: this archetype isn't really as deep or detailed as the others, but i do appreciate it. this archetype is for a child who knew who they wanted to be from an early age. a child who wanders into a ballet class and finds out they're better than the ten year olds by the time they're five. this archetype often pairs really well with the know-it-all kid or the adult-ified child because usually, children don't experience what it's like to be the best at something until they're a lot older. this is just a really cool archetype when you aren't quite sure what to do with that main character's little sister.

the chaotic child: this archetype is so much fun to read and write, to be honest. this is a child that just does as they please, whether it's out of curiosity or for pure enjoyment. think of the crazy stories that your guardians have about you or your siblings being absolutely insane. scribbling in a book and then demanding that the library publish their version. trying to ride the dog like a horse. cutting up clothes in an attempt to be a fashion designer. this one is just plain fun!

---

now, there are so many more archetypes out there, but those are just my spotlights and recommendations! i hope after reading this, you feel more equipt to write child characters that have real, engaging, interesting personalities!

[delimeful]

how easy you are to need (redux) (7)

warnings: misunderstandings, feeling trapped, unhealthy thoughts about an assumed situation, death and injury mention, discussion of debts, unreliable narrator, virgil horribly misinterpreting yet another normal conversation, literally embarrassing levels of thick-headedness

-

Letting his guard down around the humans was far, far easier than it should have been.

He still eased his defenses down slowly, bit by bit, of course, he wasn’t a complete fool. An understanding between him and Patton didn’t necessarily mean that the others felt the same.

They were humans, not shifters, after all, and while he could see the shape of a pack in their closeness, that didn’t mean he could assume the same principles would apply. They all took on equal responsibilities in maintaining and protecting their home, and none of the three had shown any particular indication that they were a designated envoy, meant to speak for the entire pack.

Frankly, with it only being the three of them, a lack of envoy wouldn’t have been too surprising even if they had been shifters. Some smaller packs forewent assigned roles, rotating them as needed, or were close-knit enough that they essentially acted as one whole, any individual able to speak for the pack.

The humans loved to bicker, though, and it would have been like a slap in the face to trust in Patton’s promise and then have them argue about it right in front of him. Instead, Virgil tested the firmness of the new ground he’d been offered with slow, tentative steps, like a deer crossing over a frozen lake. Better to take his time and test the ice than plunge right through.

Irritatingly, the humans made it far too easy for him to forget how precarious his standing was.

Even the simplest of interactions seemed to please them. When he’d responded to Patton’s friendly greeting for the first time, the morning after their midnight conversation, the human’s expression had lit up like a lightning bug at dusk. When he’d finally answered one of Logan’s questions during a meal, the scholar had blinked a few times in quiet surprise before smiling in a way that made his entire face look softer. When he’d pursed his lips and snapped out a sharp retort to something annoying Roman had said, the hunter hadn’t hesitated to needle him right back with friendly delight, the same as he did with the other two.

They were keeping him trapped here, because they were human and they knew better than to let a monster roam free in the woods around their home, but they didn’t want a starved prisoner or a ticket to easy riches. They wanted to offer him comfort and belonging in the time that he had left.

He’d saved them, and they were repaying it in the only way they could afford to.

It was pathetic, how relieved he felt. How genuinely grateful he was for the simple fact that he wasn’t being forced to relive the unending torment of his first imprisonment. How such basic offerings of food and warmth and companionship made it possible to ignore or even briefly forget about the executioner’s axe hoisted over his head.

He’d been on his own for a long time. Returning to that solitude would be its own kind of death, a slow and painful relearning of what it meant to be alone. He knew this, but tried not to dwell on it. He’d survived it once before, and he would again. Better to endure the loneliness than lose the safety of isolation.

So, he forced himself to keep focusing on methods of escape, on the ways this slowly-growing camaraderie would offer lapses in security, on the new freedoms he could take advantage of, and didn’t think about what he would do afterwards.

With this goal in mind, he immediately decided to test his luck by poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

He’d regained some mobility after another week of healing, though he kept his walking pace to a slow shuffle out of caution, and the humans still tended to hover like agitated honeybees whenever he was on his feet for too long. The cabin was small enough that he had mapped out most of it within a day or two, and now he approached the only room he hadn’t yet entered or peered into.

When he pushed the door of Logan’s workspace open, the human’s head snapped up immediately, wearing the beginnings of a frown. Once he saw that it was Virgil who stood in the doorway, though, the displeased turn of his lips faded away, replaced by eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Hello,” he said, voice polite despite the interruption. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Of the three of them, Logan had been the most respectful in his formality, and so Virgil impulsively tested the bounds of that patience by not answering right away, instead letting his gaze drift over the room and its contents.

There were far more plants scattered about than he’d expected, though perhaps he should have expected as much from the dedication Logan tended his garden with. Pots of different shapes and sizes were settled on every inch of the window ledges, and planters hung from shelves and hooks on the ceiling alike. There was an entire corner of the room dedicated to racks of drying herbs and flowers, both wild and homegrown, which lent the room a pleasant dusty floral smell that almost covered up the sting of ink and chemicals.

There was a table against one wall, the shelves around it packed full with bottles of miscellaneous ingredients, all of them labeled in neat handwriting. The table itself was covered in neatly-organized supplies, with protective sigils carefully carved into the outer edge of the wood, keeping any experimentation contained. It stank less than he’d thought it would, for human magecraft, but then he hadn’t yet seen Logan doing any of the typical dissection and harvesting of supernatural creatures, either.

After the full moon, it would have the bitter tang of magic made through unwilling sacrifice, the distant preserved rot of bottled blood. Virgil would recognize the stench of post-harvest ingredients anywhere. Not that he’d be there to smell it, at that point. He forcibly pulled his attention away.

The last section of the room was less orderly than the rest, primarily due to the heaps of books that were stacked and shoved wherever there was space. Logan’s desk was the only semi-clear spot, and even that had a few precarious book towers sitting atop or alongside it. It was also covered in stacks of parchment, with lines and lines of writing or intricate diagrams sketched on the paper.

Logan sat behind it, still awaiting a response, those keen eyes watching him right back.

There was no sign of the lodestone for the ward around the cabin at first glance. He had known better than to think it would be that easy, though.

He hadn’t known that he would actually get this far, assuming that they wouldn’t want their magic prisoner sticking his nose in the most likely place to find a way out of their wards. Even Roman and Patton didn’t tend to disturb Logan too often when he was working in this space, so he’d assumed he’d only get a few moments to glance around at best.

“You haven’t been to the leyline crossing,” he said, because the silence had begun to grow awkward and he’d panicked and they really hadn’t, even though it was well past the usual time of the month they went.

Logan’s stare sharpened, which was probably a bad sign, but he only stood up to clear the books off of a second chair, and gestured for him to sit.

This had been a bad idea. Virgil slunk forward with extreme reluctance and sat.

“We haven’t,” Logan answered affirmatively as he returned to his seat, adjusting his spectacles. “It didn’t seem wise to venture into the woods, seeing as that is where the bear headed, last we saw it.”

That was… a really good reason, actually. Virgil shuddered at even the idea of them running into that creature again in the dead of night, without him to help.

“I take it that you’ve been familiar with us for a while, then, since you know of our routine offerings?” Logan continued, sounding more curious than angry.

Virgil froze up, regardless. He should have known better than to hope he could make it through a conversation without giving anything away. He hadn’t even managed to make it through the first sentence.

“I am not upset,” Logan offered, glancing down at the open book before him in a gesture that seemed designed to give Virgil a moment to breathe. “On the contrary, I am… rather relieved, to have my suspicions confirmed.”

“Relieved?” Virgil echoed dubiously, his voice a low croak. It tended to go raspy and hoarse if he wasn’t focusing on speaking, probably the result of not using his human vocal cords to speak to anyone in literal years.

“Indeed,” Logan answered. “I will admit, my initial impression of you was made hastily. We had never seen you before, and yet you didn’t hesitate to defend us, and you earned a significant injury in the process. It was worrying to unexpectedly incur such a debt.”

Virgil managed to shove aside his embarrassment in favor of confusion. It was strange to mention a debt, especially one owed to a shifter. Humans didn’t consider shifters worth trading with in any fashion, in his experience, and even other supernatural beings knew that wolves weren’t fond of holding debts or grudges. Really, the way Logan spoke about it sounded more like…

“You see, I was aware that it is rather rare for a shifter to reveal themself to humans for any length of time, as I’m sure you know, and I was also aware that the fair folk are often deft hands at taking on wild shapes of their own, particularly when interacting with humans, so…” Logan trailed off, looking a bit flustered at the admission.

“You thought I was fae,” Virgil completed the thought, feeling a bit taken aback at the idea. He certainly would have done a fair bit more against that bear if he’d had the sort of natural power that faeries so often courted.

Of course, things also would have turned out a lot worse for the humans if he’d been a fae, more likely than not. Humans who had fallen under the attention of one of the fair folk frequently met an unfortunate end because of it. Whether the faery in question was maliciously fixated or lovingly obsessed, the human would be lucky to come out irrevocably changed. They’d be lucky to come out alive at all.

“It was a working hypothesis,” Logan said primly, turning a page in his book despite the fact that he almost definitely hadn’t been reading while they spoke. “It was disproven easily enough, and so my precautions weren’t needed in the first place, but seeing as my haste has gotten me and those around me in trouble before, I thought it best to perform them anyhow.”

Precautions? Patton had said that Virgil saved his life, if not all of theirs. To the fae, a life debt like that could only be paid off one way, whether they’d been tricked into it or not.

Oh. He had wondered why Logan had been so uncharacteristically careless before, carrying an agitated and injured shifter back with its teeth only a handspan from his neck. If Virgil had been fae, if he’d chosen differently and torn out Logan’s throat, that would have been the end of any debt between him and the others. A life paid for a life owed.

“Did you run that plan by the others, first?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer.

Logan waved a hand dismissively, not bothering to pretend at regret. “They traveled out here on my behalf, in the first place. To let them suffer for my mistakes would be a poor repayment.”

From what he knew of them, Virgil thought Patton and Roman would disagree. Loudly.

“…Right,” said Virgil, in his most dubious tone. “On your behalf?”

“I’m cursed,” Logan explained shortly. “I don’t have the constitution required to perform magework without damaging my health. It was intended to make me choose between my health and my passion, but I was willing to give up neither, and found a third option: proximity to powerful natural magic, which would prevent spellwork from being as taxing.”

“Huh.” It was a clever solution. Logan might have been the one to propose their solution to Virgil, too. Offering a shifter a peaceful last few weeks certainly wasn’t an option he would have expected from any normal humans.

Right. He’d almost forgotten that his plan had been to push against the boundaries of his cage, to force them to acknowledge that he was stuck here, to remind himself that no amount of kind company was worth the pain of how this month would inevitably end.

“Well, you don’t owe me anything,” he said, a little too sharply. “And in that case, there’s no point in me staying.”

Logan sat up straight, posture stiffening as he frowned. “You’re still far from healed. I understand why you don’t wish to shift, but surely, leaving is a bad idea for the same reason?”

There it was. In the end, that was the biggest flaw in the arrangement the humans had come up with. If Virgil attacked them or tried to leave, they’d be forced to kill him immediately. He would lose, but so would they; killing him in his human form would make his corpse far, far less valuable.

“You’re only making things more difficult on yourself,” Virgil told him, crossing his arms as tightly as he could without jarring his wound. “I’m not fae. There’s no worth in being hospitable to me.”

It certainly wasn’t going to convince him to stop trying to escape. He might be pathetic, but he wasn’t that pathetic. Honestly, it’d probably be easier for everyone if they just cut their losses and killed him now.

Logan closed his book, folded his hands over it, and met Virgil’s eyes squarely. “We offered you our hospitality because we wanted to. It is freely given, no matter the ease or difficulty involved.”

Virgil couldn’t help the way his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. That implied that they would keep on offering him this kindness even if he did get caught attempting to escape.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t ever been truly punished for that first desperate sprint to the wards, had he? None of the things he’d believed to be threats or punishments had ever panned out the way he’d assumed. Ultimately, they hadn’t so much as directly scolded him about the escape attempt, as though the act was hardly surprising. He hadn’t been drugged, and he still wasn’t guarded.

He couldn’t be certain unless he got caught again, but… the signs were all there. They were confident enough in their cage to indulge him even when he was caught gnawing at the bars. They were underestimating him.

“Don’t blame me if you regret it later,” he said dismissively, but he couldn’t help the disbelieving half smile creeping onto his lips.

Logan returned his smile with an encouraging one of his own, apparently unfazed by Virgil’s renewed determination. “I very much doubt I will.”

He snorted and left the human to his work, not cowed at all by the arrogance. Logan could doubt all he liked. Virgil had beaten much worse odds before.

[orbch]

people talking about analogical and being like “their identities balance each other out really well” and im like NO KIDDING!!!! 😂🤣

anways heres an essay about their storylines and how they mirror each other

(everything im about to say is very mentally unconstructed and thought up in a 3am haze. and also i feel like all of my thoughts abt sasi are stagnant and surface level so please argue with me if you think im wrong..) (also these ideas have likely already been written a bajillion times. but let me do it anyway LOL)

^ with that being said i feel the need to set a definition on what makes sasi sides “dark sides” and “light sides” because like,, to me the only difference between them is the means in which they get the rest of the sides to listen to them

obviously.. none of the sides are actively trying to be evil. or trying to hurt cthomas on purpose. OBVIOUSLYY. because why the hell would they want to do that? they are all literally That Guy, and all of the sides have their own personal goals for thomas that they want him to follow. this is like. the plot. and very known information..

but remus, janus, and formerly virgil are the “dark sides”… like what? because janus manipulated and pretended to be the other sides because thats the only way he could get the others to really listen to and consider his ideas of self preservation and prioritization? and virgil would actively terrorize the others and thomas to get him to be anxious about the stuff virgil believed it was IMPORTANT for him to be anxious about? and remus. listen remus is a whole lot of “being awful for the sake of being awful” but evidently in DWIT he has a strong attraction to the idea of infamy and legacy. so even he is sort of looking out for thomas in. uhm. his own way i guess…

so obviously we know virgils storyline was;

purposely scare the others to get them to see situations from his point of view -> always get insulted and pushed away for being a “pessimist” (its his entire purpose) -> “duck out” and leave thomas and the others to discover the negative affects of zero anxiety -> only after that, finally become recognized as an important aspect of thomas

tw: mention of suicide [not in detail] (and on that note, i think its a little morbid that the light sides only fully realized virgils worth and objective after he attempted the sanders sides equivalent of suicide (which you can NOT convince me isnt what the concept of “ducking out” is. they are all metaphysical personifications of instinctual human traits. what the hell are they gonna do? become real and walk out of the house? bffr))

and whats logans journey?

be considered the [reasonable problem solver] of the group -> be placed in a MULTITUDE of situations where the range of solutions are emotions v. emotions v. emotions and suddenly be considered “cold hearted” and “uncaring” for your objective view points -> get excluded from discussions and ignored when you try and help in the only way you know how -> ???

i (and most of the fandom) fully believe logan (ESPECIALLY after WTIT) is going to start resorting to some pretty drastic measures to be acknowledged by the rest of the sides + thomas. some actions that are likely incited by a “dark side” (nudge nudge the orange guy nudge nudge). and if the harshness of the measures he takes in order to be listened to is all it takes for the rest of the dark sides to be considered “dark sides” in the first place. then uhh well… well!!!

but anyways yeah. yeah. logan and virgil kinda have mirrored character development and that is so fucking interesting. virgils path from dark to light and logans path from light to dark… sighhh.. good stuff

[myapathyhaspeaked]

janus: oh please, you’re in your thirties and act like an angsty teen

virgil: well you’re in your thirties and act thrice divorced

[part-time-zombie]

Ok so hear me out...

Janus shape-shifts and can accurately look like any of the other sides (technically so can the others, but janus does it the most)

Remus can conjure pretty much anything, even replicas of living people (again, roman can do this too, but remus does it more)

Do you think remus ever asked janus to look like roman for a little while so he can pretend he's with his brother?

Has janus ever asked remus to conjure a fake virgil so it feels like their former friend is still with them?

[loganslowdown4]

Can I just gush for a quick second?

My right-brain boy still writes with his right hand, that’s alright 😙👌 ❤️🤍

When I sAY I LOVE THE DETAILS— 🥹

Note: Thomas is left handed.

[lefaystrent]

"So yeah, that's the whole place pretty much, besides the back yard," Patton says. He's finished walking the prospective new tenant around the house and now they're back in the common rooms. "What do you think? Seem like a good fit for ya? I know you said you've always lived alone, but I swear we're good roommates."

Virgil glances around again, gnawing on his bottom lip. He had wanted to see everything, from everyone's rooms to (strangely) all possible entry and exit points. He said it's important in case of break-ins or fires, but he seems far too nervous about it all. Maybe he's just the nervous type. Patton doesn't judge.

"Could we check out the backyard actually?" Virgil asks. "I don't really go outside much, but I've never lived in a place that has a yard."

"Oh yeah, sure! Let me grab my trash real quick; I gotta toss it anyway."

Patton snatches up a full bag of trash and escorts Virgil outside to the little back patio. He lets Virgil get a feel for it while he beelines over to the dumpster.

"Oh cool, you guys have your own dumpster?" he asks, trailing after him.

Patton smiles. "Yeah, it's pretty convenient, even if it is a load of garbage." He preens when the joke musters a laugh out of the other. He throws up the top of the bin.

"Hey, Patton," Remus says from inside the dumpster, a banana peel hanging off his head.

"Hi, Remus!" Patton greets back jovially. He tosses in the trash, careful to avoid Remus, and carries on with the conversation after he closes the lid. "I do a bit of gardening out here with Logan's help, if you'd like to... Virgil?"

Virgil has the demeanor of someone who's just choked on his own spit. His body has turned as if to make a break for the back door.

"Virgil?" Patton tries again. "Was it something I said?"

"What was that?" Virgil gestures wildly at the dumpster. "Who was that?!"

"Oh! That's just Remus."

"Why is he in the dumpster?"

Patton frowns in confusion. He glances between the dumpster and Virgil, afraid that he's missed some context. "Umm, he came with the place? He's always just been there. Why, what's wrong?"

Virgil looks like he can respond with a seven hour speech. Instead, he just wheezes.

[kingcreativityau]

Hi, I was wondering if, because you aren’t planning on working on this any time soon, you would be willing to release any notes you had on the story. I’m curious about how the story ends and so if you had anything on that it would be really appreciated.

Hi!

I'm willing to spoil a bit of the story for your curiosity, so here you go!

So what I planned to do was to do a bit of more backstory bits and the Split itself (personally one of my favourite moments)

And then to go on with the main story. Some main bits:

Virgil's nightmares terrorizing them all. Turns out baby Patton has some power over them though. Also, Janus can fight them.

King pitting Janus and Virgil against each other. Manipulating Virgil, having lots of talks with him. There's one moment where he pretends to be twins 'breaking through' and throws some shade about Jan, so Virgil (already being on the edge) actually goes to fight him.

Lo keeps staying in the middle. Being the glue to hold it all together.

There's still some doubts about our local snake though.

Then King separates them for a bit later on. Lo stays on his own with Pat and King steals baby Patton to, well, torment him a bit. Some stuff ensues. (also one of my personal favourites). Anyway, Virgil goes to attempt to rescue him later.

Let's say Shadow Virgil plays some role in there. And that kickstarts the plot of there actually being hope to fix this mess :)

And then there's the second half of the story. Which I like even more but I think that's enough spoilers for today :)

Hope you liked it!

[oliviaischillin1204]

Imagine Pre-Accepting Anxiety Virgil walking into the common room and seeing the Light Sides having a tickle fight. Now he has to find a way to keep his tough guy act while dealing with being a secret lee!

HAPPY TICKLETOBER EVERYONE!!! we're starting off strong with this ask, sent to me on jun 18 2020 lmaooooooooooo. if this prompt seems familiar, it's b/c it was also sent to @why-not-a-tickle-blog around the same time! (link to her story here!) and when i tell you've literally been working on this wip on and off ever since i got it,,,,, i am such a wip harder AJDFHGHDJ

and now, without further ado, let's let tickletober 2024 begin!

tickletober day 1- "anticipation"

word count: 7,580 words

So... the Light Sides were weird.

Virgil knew that way before he’d started hanging around their little group. From movie nights to sing-alongs to family dinners, they were overall obnoxiously chummy and irritatingly comfortable with each other.

Case in point: when Virgil finally managed to roll out of bed at about two in the afternoon, there was a strange sound in the air. Not Princey’s singing, or Logic’s lecturing, or even Morality’s incessantly cheerful... whatever he does. 

After reapplying his smeared eye shadow, he meandered out of his room and headed to the common area. As he got closer, it sounded like... laughter?

He huffed a sigh as he swung himself down the stairs.

“Can you all please keep it down--”

Virgil froze, one hand on the railing as he took in the scene before him.

There were the three Light Sides, but he’d never seen them like this. Princey-- ugh, fine, Roman-- was lying on the floor, but what caught Virgil’s eye was the state of disarray he seemed to be in. Next to him was Patton, sitting cross legged and looking similarly rumpled, and next to Patton was Logan, who was normal except for the blush riding high on his cheeks.

That wasn’t the weirdest part, though. The weirdest part was the way Logan was pinching at Roman’s knees and thighs with a careful accuracy, or the way Roman was reaching to vibrate his fingers all over Patton’s stomach, or the Patton had a hand on both Logan’s and Roman’s sides and was squeezing away with reckless abandon. Or the way all three were laughing together in delight at the tickle fight Virgil had somehow managed to walk in on.

Speaking of Virgil: when he processed the scene happening before him, he couldn’t help but let out a surprised little gasp. That noise, quiet as it was in the chaotic room, still managed to stop the other three in their tracks, and they all turned to look at him.

Patton, of course, was the first to speak. “Well, hey, Anxiety!”

“Um--” was all Virgil managed to say. His face turned hot, and he prayed that it wasn’t as bright red as it felt. He gripped the railing under his hand and avoided eye contact. “I--”

Roman scoffed, hurriedly sitting up and pulling away from Logan’s tickly hands.

“Is there something we can help you with, villain?” he asked brusquely, but Virgil got the feeling that he was more embarrassed that Virgil saw him getting tickled than annoyed that the anxious side was there. Still, his words were enough to snap Virgil out of his spell, and he managed to roll his eyes.

“I said,” he repeated, hoping his voice wouldn’t fail him, “would you please keep it down? You’re gonna wake the whole Mind Palace with your... game.”

There was the crack in his voice; Virgil knew it was going to come, and he felt himself grow even warmer. Thankfully, no one commented on it.

“Apologies, Anxiety,” Logan said, straightening his glasses. “We didn’t intend to be so loud. We got... carried away.”

Patton giggled, his hands creeping back to Logan and Roman’s sides. “’Carried away’ sure is one way to put it, guys--”

The other two swatted his hands away, but Virgil caught the flustered grins that adorned both of their faces. Their eyes darted back to Virgil, and he swallowed, suddenly feeling very out of place.

“Uh, okay, fine. Whatever. I’m going back to bed.”

He turned on his heel and marched up the stairs, ignoring Logan’s calls about maintaining a proper sleep schedule, as he tried to stop thinking about what he’d just witnessed.

It wasn’t working. All he could think about now was tickling. How often did the Light Sides tickle each other? Was it often? Who was the most ticklish, and who was the best tickler? Was it always the three of them altogether?

Would they let him join, if he asked?

Virgil’s eyes widened at the thought that just ran through his head. No. Absolutely not, no way, don’t pass go and don’t collect $200.

Like, fine, maybe there was a small part of him that was maybe, just a little, interested in the concept of tickling. And... maybe there was an even smaller part of him that found the idea of being tickled by the Light Sides-- any of them-- somewhat intriguing.

But, fuck. He was Anxiety, for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t like stuff like that. If he asked to be a part of their stupid little game, they’d never let him live it down.

... But. Maybe if he didn’t ask?

He slowly stopped walking as he thought it over in his head. It wasn’t an awful idea. The Light Sides were weird enough that maybe, if he played his cards right, he might be able to lure them into tickling him without him asking.

Honestly, if the idea had come to him on another day, he probably would’ve shoved it way back to the back of his mind and pretended it had no appeal to him. But he could practically still hear the Light Sides’ laughter ringing in his ears, and as much as he was loathe to admit it, he kinda wanted to be a part of their game. So his plan was made.

~

His first target was Patton, which made sense for a lot of reasons. Patton seemed to tolerate him more than the other Light Sides-- more than tolerate, to be honest; it was as if he actually kinda liked him. Another good thing about Patton was his attitude: while Virgil normally found that much cheer to be a little nauseating, he couldn’t deny that if anyone was going to start an impromptu tickle fight, it would be Patton.

“Thanks for helping me with these cookies, Anxiety!” Patton said, bringing Virgil out of his thoughts and back to the present situation. He leaned against the counter, trying his hardest to appear open and approachable.

“Whatever,” he replied. “I don’t really have anything better to do, so. Uh. Yeah.”

Fuck, why was he always so awkward?

Whatever-- at least Patton didn’t seem to notice or care; instead, he was focused on pulling out all of the supplies and ingredients and laying them on the counter.

“Okay, first up is the dry ingredients!” he instructed. “Kiddo, you wanna hand me the flour?”

Virgil nodded, pushing himself off of the counter. “Where is it?”

“It’s, uh...”

Patton paused, looking around he kitchen, and Virgil smirked a little as he was reminded that the paternal figure wasn’t nearly as good at cooking as he implied.

“Oh! It’s right up there!” he finally chirped, pointing past Virgil to one of the cabinets. Virgil followed his finger to the very top shelf of the cabinet.

His eyes widened. Finally, an opportunity.

As casually as possible, he moved to the cabinet and braced on hand on the counter. The other hand, he raised high in the air, stretching out his entire body and putting himself in a very vulnerable position. He even stood on his tiptoes as he stretched, hoping Patton would take the hint and deliver what Virgil wanted.

He reached for the flour for as long as he reasonably could, but after about ten seconds, he had no choice but to grab it and pull it down. He turned around, only to find Patton carefully measuring out baking soda, not even paying attention to Virgil’s attempts at vulnerability.

Virgil kicked himself internally, and after a moment he moved forward and dropped the flour onto the counter.

“Here,” he said shortly. Patton turned, giving him a wide smile.

“Thanks, bud!” he said earnestly, opening the bag and grabbing his measuring cup. “Wanna do this one for me while I get started on the eggs?”

Virgil blinked. He’d kinda forgotten that his whole excuse for hanging out with Patton was baking cookies. “Um, sure.”

Patton gave him yet another sunny smile, and Virgil felt compelled to give him a small one in return as he accepted the measuring cup from him.

The two worked together, measuring and mixing ingredients as Patton chattered away. It was-- kinda nice, to be real? Like, maybe Virgil should offer to do this more often, and if he weren’t in one of the most massive lee moods he’d ever been in in his life, he’d probably be able to appreciate it more.

“Alright, time to get these babies on a cookie sheet!” Patton announced, handing a big spoon for Virgil to use. “And afterwards, don’t tell Logan, but we’re totally gonna lick the bowl.”

Virgil nodded, but he didn’t wanna give up on his mission just yet. “Um... can I, uh, get anything else for you?”

Patton turned and looked at him, blinking in surprise before his smile brightened.

“Well, sure, kiddo!” he replied. “There are some chocolate chips on the top shelf, do we wanna add some of those?”

He pointed to the cabinet that was right above them, and Virgil’s heart beat faster. This was it.

“Sure,” he replied as casually as possible. “I’ll get them.”

He placed a hand on the counter to brace himself, and raised the arm closest to Patton as high as he could reach, pretending to scrabble around for the bag of chocolate chips for a few seconds longer than necessary. He even angled his body as subtly as he could, so that his midriff was practically in Patton’s face as he left himself totally exposed.

But nothing happened.

Virgil frowned, but after a few seconds grabbed the bag from the cabinet anyway, lowering himself back to the floor as he broke the seal on the baggie.

“Here,” he muttered, passing it to Patton without making eye contact. There was the slightest pause, but then the bag was lifted from his hand with no more than a cheery, “Thanks!”

Virgil felt himself suppress a sigh as he helped Patton mix in the chocolate chips. Well. On one hand, he got to spend some time with Patton (and even got cookies out of the deal). On the other hand, his genius plot to get tickled had failed with his first target. It was time for target number two.

~

The sound of operatic singing through the halls of the Mind Palace lead Virgil directly to his next target.

He sighed as he nibbled on one of the chocolate chip cookies he and Patton had made, trying to dispel some of his nervous energy before he reached the living room. It wasn’t even just nerves about his current... desires (although there were plenty of those inside of him right now) but-- fuck, he didn’t do this, he didn’t hang around in the common areas like the rest of them, and if it would be totally weird for him to even try, and they were gonna get angry at him, and it would make getting to know them even more difficult in the future-- 

“Oh, Anxiety.” 

A voice full of suspicion snapped him back to reality. He blinked and realized that he’d made it to the living room, where Roman was standing with some sheet music in hand, rehearsing for some musical, based on how loudly he’d been singing moments before.

“To what do I owe the displeasure?” he continued, eyes narrowed sharply. Virgil mentally shook himself and put on his trademark ‘evil’ smirk.

“Hey there, Princey,” he drawled, holding out the Tupperware container in his hand. “Wanna cookie?”

Roman peered down at the peace offering like it was a bomb. “From you? What, are they poisoned?”

“Yep, I poisoned the cookies,” Virgil deadpanned. “That’s why I’m eating one right in front of you, genius.”

He counted the look of embarrassed realization on Roman’s face as a small victory. 

“Well-- well, you might’ve poisoned all but one of them, just to throw me off!” Roman added haughtily. “So, ha!” 

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “Ha.” He looked at Roman for a moment more before taking another bite. “Well, you were rude to me, so now you get no cookies.”

“What-- hey!” Roman replied indignantly. He moved to Virgil, but the dark side easily held the box out of reach. “Anxiety! That’s not fair!”

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder than that to get these cookies,” Virgil said smugly. He was all to aware of how exposed he was making himself-- it would take so little effort for Roman to grab his side, or scribble at his armpit, or...

But, as expected, nothing came of it, and instead Roman moved away with a derisive sniff.

“Whatever,” he said, turning away. “Even if they’re not poisoned, you probably added salt instead of sugar and cumin instead of cinnamon--”

Virgil narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Hey, Patton and I made them together, and they’re actually good, so--"

Suddenly Roman's arm shot out, taking advantage of Virgil's distraction to swipe a cookie from the box. “Ha! Got one, thank you!”

Virgil blinked. “You--"

He cut himself off at the genuinely triumphant grin on Roman's face, and it took more willpower than he would've admitted to keep from smiling along.

"Yes, yes, you’re very smart," he said, flopping on the couch and rolling his eyes. "Shut up.”

As he reclined against the sofa, he let his eyes drift shut (insomnia's a bitch, even for a man on a mission to get wrecked), but very quickly it became clear that the other side was going to make a fuckin' production out of eating this cookie.

“Mmm... Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm!" Roman pondered with his mouth full. He waved his arms emphatically as he continued, "This is just the most scrumptious, the most divine, the most splendiferous cookie I’ve ever--”

Virgil's eyes snapped open. “Are you always this dramatic and loud? I’m trying to relax.”

That caught the creative side's attention. Roman turned to look at Virgil with his regular suspicion back in his eyes.

“Relax? Here?”

His tone made Virgil tense up behind his cocky facade. “What about it?”

A few second went by as Roman looked at him skeptically. “Nothing, it’s just... You’re always in your room, hiding away like a hermit in a cave.”

“Hiding?" Virgil repeated, eyes narrowed. "What, from you? Not likely.”

Roman moved closer, suddenly leaning over Virgil's laid out form and coming just inches away from his face.

“Aw, don't tell me that I scare you, little Anxiety?”

With that one sentence, Virgil mood came back even stronger than before. There was something in Roman’s voice-- either his teasing tone or his babyish words-- that made Virgil’s stomach do a completely rude and uncalled-for flip, but he merely rolled his eyes.

“The only thing scary about you is your ego,” he retorted. He scanned Roman up and down before closing his eyes again. “Otherwise, you’re just soft.”

Roman scoffed, turning to leave. “Shut up.”

“Make me, loser.”

He watched Roman’s back as he froze in place, and slowly the creative side turned back around.

“You wanna say that again?”

Virgil felt his breath catch, but he forced himself to stay calm. Now was his chance.

He opened his eyes, shooting Roman the cockiest smile he could muster.

“What, make me?”

The prince was glowering at him, his arms folded across his chest. When he spoke, it was in a deep, smooth voice that sent a shiver down Virgil’s spine.

“You don’t want me to make you.”

Virgil smirked, folding his arms behind his head and gazing up at Roman with a smug look on his face.

“I’d like to see you try, Princey.”

That was it. Roman’s eyes narrowed, dark and competitive, and Virgil had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing preemptively.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he muttered lowly, stalking over to Virgil and-- holy shit, he actually straddled Virgil’s waist and placed his hands on either side of his torso, and this was happening, this was happening, this was--

“Oh my goodness gracious, there it is!”

Roman voice derailed Virgil’s train of thought, and he blinked in confusion at the creative side, who wasn’t even looking at him anymore.

“What--?”

Roman laughed lightly, reaching over Virgil’s head and pulling something out from between the couch cushions.

“My sketchbook!” he said triumphantly, shifting off of Virgil and flipping through the pages. “Finally, I’ve been looking for it forever. I had this great idea where I can use a mix of paint and glitter glue to--”

Virgil’s head spun with the shift in the conversation as Roman rambled about his newest project. The anticipatory tension in his stomach started to lessen, leaving him feeling dazed and confused.

“Um, you-- so-- you--”

Roman wasn’t even listening to him; he easily stood up from the couch-- and Virgil definitely did not try to lean into his touch as he moved away, shut up-- and moved toward the door.

“I must get started right away! My paintbrushes aren’t going to wait any longer!”

He hurried out of the room, leaving Virgil alone on the couch, face flushed and mind full of visions of how exactly he wanted Roman to use those paintbrushes.

He dropped his face into his hands. Why was this so hard?

~

The rest of the afternoon passed without another little event like that-- Virgil had been so flustered, he’d had to go back to his room for several hours, alternating between screaming into a pillow at his own awkwardness, and daring to reminisce about the feeling of Roman's weight pinning him down.

This was such a bad idea. Not only were there a million ways it could go wrong (he could make a fool of himself, he could genuinely cross someone's boundaries on accident, his plan could be found out and his desires could be rejected-- the list goes on) but now he also had to deal with coming so tantalizing close to what he wants more than anything, only to have it slip just out of his reach.

He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night, flopping back on his bed--

pressed against the couch cushions, Roman easily holding you down with one hand as the other searches all over for the exact spot to make you beg for mercy, which you know he won't give you, he wants to make you scream--

Immediately he shot up again, face flushed. God, he was jumpy tonight, and that was saying something. He stood up, stepping cautiously around the piles of clothes on the floor to work some of his jitters out. He tried to recall some of the simple exercises Logan had shown him once to help relax him before bed: rolling his neck and shoulders, twisting back and forth to crack his back, raising his arms and stretching them high to the sky--

Patton right behind you, grabbing your hands and holding them nice and tight as he laughs and whispers in your ear, taking full advantage of your riding-up shirt to spider all over that one tickle spot just above your belly button--

His arms snapped down with a choked-off gasp.

Okay. Being in his room was fucking with him. That was definitely why he was feeling jittery and twitchy and sensitive to his own shirt rubbing against his skin. No other reason.

... He had to get out of there.

Grabbing his phone and flipping up his hood, Virgil slid back out into the hallway. It was later in the evening, past dinner time (well, past the time the Light Sides had dinner-- his dinner would involve cold leftovers eaten in front of the fridge at 2 AM) and the Mind Palace was quiet.

Well... mostly quiet.

Virgil crept down the hall to the top of the stairs. From the top, he could make out some sound coming from the living room-- no laughter this time, thankfully, but some quiet droning noises coming from the TV. Probably Patton or Roman-- Logan didn't watch much TV.

Virgil stood with one hand clasped to the stair railing like a life line. He gnawed on his lip, a fluttery, delicate feeling lighting up his chest.

He wanted to try this. There were very few things Virgil ever, ever wanted to try... but he wanted to try this. It was clearly something that was normal among the Light Sides, and-- and despite what he'd previously thought, they don't actually... seem to despise his company. This was-- this was something he could ask for, even just to ask, and even he could admit that the idea of one of them saying yes wasn't impossible.

All at once he lunged down the stairs, feet thumping loudly as he got closer to the living room. He would do it-- he'd go right over to the couch and shove his feet onto someone's lap and surely then, surely then, someone would take pity on him and just freaking tickle him already!

Virgil rounded the corner into the living room, and before he could question himself he hopped over the arm of the couch and threw himself down on the cushions, shoving his feet directly onto the lap of the side sitting at the other end of the couch.

Immediately, he felt two inquisitive eyes boring into him in bewilderment.

"... Anxiety?" Logan asked. "Are you alright?"

Aaaaaaand there went all of Virgil's confidence. He hadn't planned for Logan to be there, not now, not when his mood was at an all time high and he was face to face with the person least likely to do anything about it.

Virgil ignored the tense, mortified feeling in his stomach. “Yup.” A beat, and then he pulled out his phone, as if he hadn't just jumped over the couch just to put his feet in Logan's lap--

“Can I... do something for you?” Logan continued.

Yes, you can pull my socks off and hold my ankles down and--

“Nope.”

Silence fell once again. Virgil was all too aware of his body, too tense to move a muscle or disrupt Logan any further.

“Is this comfortable for you? To have your feet on my lap?”

But... he'd come this far, he'd already pushed past the walls he'd built between himself and the other sides. If nothing else, if this plan failed and he never got what he wanted, at least he could say that he tried.

He shrugged. “Yeah."

He felt Logan's eyes on him a moment longer.

“Very well, then.”

Logan turned back to the TV, and Virgil felt himself wavering already. This was maybe his most ill-conceived idea yet-- they weren't even doing anything together, not really, and try as he might he couldn't think of any way to engage Logan in conversation about anything, let alone anything related to tickling--

“Hey, gang!”

Virgil froze, his stomach plummeting. He shot a desperate glance at Logan, but the logical side paid him no mind as Patton and Roman entered the room, carrying snacks and blankets.

“Ah,” Logan said, turning to the two of them without another glance in Virgil’s direction. “I had forgotten that was tonight.”

Virgil couldn’t help letting out a sigh of frustration, making Roman raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, and I suppose you’re just too cool to deign to join our movie night, huh, Doom and Gloom?”

“Now, Roman, don’t be mean,” Patton gently chastised, placing the snacks on the table and beaming down at Virgil. “We’re happy to have you with us, Anxiety! It’s about time you start joining our group activities.”

Like tickle fights? Virgil thought but didn't say. His ever-growing lee mood was making him feel all fuzzy, and all he could think about as he looked between the three other sides was Patton’s hands, Logan’s fingers, and Roman’s voice, all teasing and tormenting him in unison.

“Whatever,” he finally said, forcing himself to shrug blithely. “I don’t really care--”

He cut himself off with a choked gasp as Roman leaned down and abruptly picked up Virgil into a bridal carry. They stayed still as Patton sat down next to Logan, rearranging the blankets and chattering innocently about what movie to watch, but all Virgil could focus on was the feeling of Roman’s hands on his body and the teasy, squirmy feeling building up in his chest and stomach.

“Are you staying with us or not?” Roman asked lowly, and Virgil had to fight the urge to squeak as his warm breath hit his ear. 

“Uh-- sure.”

Roman hummed, and then he was leaning forward, dropping Virgil into Patton’s lap with his feet resting on Logan’s thighs.

“Woah!” Patton chuckled, looking at Virgil with amusement. “Comfy, kiddo?”

Virgil face flushed red. “I-- I didn’t--”

“He’s gonna stay anyway, and we all know he likes to sit in weird places, so,” Roman explained, flopping down on the couch next to Patton and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. He pulled a pillow into his lap and gently pushed Virgil back by his shoulder, until the Dark Side somehow found himself stretched between all three of them on the couch.

“Anxiety, is this acceptable for you?” Logan asked distantly, and Virgil peeked up to find him observing him closely. Virgil froze in his gaze for what felt like far too long, but eventually managed a short nod.

Patton clapped. “Awesome! Now we all get to hang out together. It’ll be so fun!”

He leaned forward to grab the remote, and Virgil swore he could feel his hands as they ghosted over his stomach. He squirmed minutely, both hoping that no one would call him out on how flustered he was, and praying that they would.

This was way more than he was expecting.

"Ah," Logan said as the movie began playing. "I do love this opening number."

He moved like he was folding his hands in his lap, but really, he placed his hands directly onto the tops of Virgil's ankles. The music started, and Logan-- Logan tapped out a rhythm against Virgil's skin, matching the tempo of the music on the TV.

Virgil clenched his jaw so quickly he wondered if they could hear it. It... didn't tickle, not really. The touch was too light, too quick, too inconsequential to really light his nerves in any way. But the anticipation was there, bubbling inside him, and he found himself shifting his legs restlessly at the touch.

"Is something wrong, Anxiety?" Logan asked, and Virgil paused. It-- it must've been his imagination, that spark in Logan's eye that matched the spark in Virgil's stomach. "No," he said, just slightly breathless. Logan hummed and returned his eyes to the screen.

Then his hands moved: one hand tapping more firmly against his ankle, and the other running its nails along the top of Virgil's foot.

Virgil tensed every muscle in his legs; it was so much worse this time-- not only did being stretched out make Virgil feel so much more vulnerable, but now there were two other people he had to hide his reactions from. Roman was right there, for God's sake, his face mere inches above Virgil's-- Virgil had to turn his head completely toward the TV just to hide the small smile that was already on his face.

He stayed in that position as the movie played, but he couldn't tell you anything that was happening on the screen. All he could focus on was Logan's fingers as they slowly migrated from trailing the top of his foot, to tapping directly over his socked toes, to drawing delicate circles along the ball of his foot. His other hand stayed on Virgil's ankle-- like a restraint.

Virgil felt flushed, and prayed that the dark lighting of the room would cover it. Distantly he heard Patton laughing, and he could feel Roman's chest rumble where it was pressed against his shoulder.

And then he felt Logan take all five fingers right to the center of Virgil's sole and tickle.

"Nah-hahaha!" Virgil screamed, yanking his leg back and just barely missing Patton's face with his knee. He felt both Patton and Roman jump underneath him.

"Anxiety, are you okay?" Patton asked in a panicked voice. He didn't even seem bothered that Virgil had almost thrown his knee into his nose.

Roman looked down at Virgil with bewilderment. "Jiminy Crickets, is the movie that funny to you?"

“Ah,” Logan said. “My hypothesis was correct.”

Virgil froze.

Patton quirked his head. “You have a hypothesis?”

Roman eyed down at Virgil suspiciously for just a moment more before gesturing to Logan. “Please, Teach, explain."

Alarm bells went off in Virgil's head. He was suddenly desperate to leave the entire situation before it was too late, but Logan's hand resting on his ankle felt like a vice he couldn't escape.

“Well," Logan began in his lecture voice, "for the past few hours, Anxiety has been expressing an interest in becoming closer with the three of us through quality time, amicable banter, and excessive physical contact. The physical contact is really what gave it away, but it all comes down to the fact that this change in behavior occurred immediately after Anxiety walked in on our... roughhousing this morning.”

Virgil was distracted by the way Logan tried to avoid saying the word tickle (and man, Virgil thought, it’d be so much fun to see him forced to say it, oh my god shut up brain) but Patton’s gasp of understanding brought him back to his present situation. He looked away from the moral side, but to his distress he found himself face to face with Roman, who was looking at him with a growing interest.

“Wait a minute,” he said slowly. Virgil squirmed.

“Shut up.”

“Are you telling me--”

“Princey, I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking right now--”

Suddenly Patton’s hand was on his leg, his fingers pressing in just above his knee, and Virgil’s words turned into a choked gasp.

Patton quirked his head. “Are you ticklish, kiddo?”

Virgil’s mouth opened and shut. “I-- I--”

And of course, Logan chose that moment to drag his nails all the way down Virgil’s foot, the hand resting on Virgil's ankle suddenly tightening to keep him from jerking away as his fingers wiggled right against Virgil's tickle spots.

Virgil couldn’t help it: he squealed, loudly, and immediately buried his face in his hands.

“That seems to be the answer to that question,” Logan said, sounding far too pleased with himself for Virgil’s taste. “The more important question, however, is whether or not Anxiety wants to be tickled. Although I believe we know that answer to that question, as well.”

Even with his face behind his hands, Virgil felt all three pairs of eyes on him.

"I--" he squeaked, then coughed, blatantly stalling for time as his mind spun in circles. "I-- um-- you don't-- I guess--"

"Kiddo, is that really what you've been trying to do all day long?" Patton asked gently. Virgil made one short, choked sound, and nodded rapidly.

"... So when I told you to be quiet earlier," Roman said slowly, "and you said 'make me'... that was you trying to get tickled?"

A beat, and then Virgil nodded again. He quickly debated the merits of allowing himself to be swallowed by the floor.

"Well..."

Logan's voice was laced with something that Virgil was wholly unprepared for.

"It would be a shame," he continued nonchalantly, "if Anxiety came so far out of his figurative shell only to not receive any recognition or praise for how difficult that must have been. Perhaps some positive reinforcement will help encourage him to continue this behavior in the future."

Logan didn't even have to finish his sentence before Roman dove for Virgil's wrists. Virgil yanked as hard as he could, but Roman was in a better position and easily managed to pull his arms above his head. Immediately Virgil's fight or flight instincts kicked in, and he was about to start literally kicking (even though his brain was screaming at his body to shut up stop it play dead holy shit they're giving you what you want) before Patton leaned as far over his torso as he could manage, keeping his middle pinned in place.

"Anxiety..." he cooed, actually cooed, and yup Virgil was totally gonna die. "Wanna look at me, sweetheart?"

It took Virgil a second to realize that his eyes were screwed shut in anticipation. He peeked out only to find Patton looking at him with the most soft, loving, mughy-gushy expression Virgil had ever seen, especially directed towards him. It made him feel like he was melting.

"When we play our tickle games," he continued, "we always say 'red' when we need a break. Is that okay for you, too?"

Virgil couldn't even speak, so he gave a jerky nod.

"For safety, we should proceed slowly," Logan said, "in order not to overwhelm him." The way Logan was talking to the others like Virgil wasn't there sent a small thrill down his spine.

"I disagree," Roman replied. "I think our poor, sweet Anxiety has waited much too long already." His upside-down grin made Virgil want to spit curses up at him, except he was pretty sure the only thing that would come out if he opened his mouth were pathetic squeals.

"Where should we begin?" the creative side continued, tracing his thumbs around the soft skin of Virgil's wrist. "His... bright red ears? Or his wiggly hips? Or his bouncy little tummy?"

"Fuck off," Virgil gasped.

Roman clicked his tongue. "Temper! Patton doesn't like swearing!"

"Oh, let him fuss," Patton replied. "This is all very overwhelming for him, it's okay! If I had known you liked tickling too, Anxiety, I would've gladly done it for you a long time ago!"

"I don't--"

Then Virgil gasped, and fell into helpless frantic giggles. In unison Roman and Patton swiveled their heads to look at Logan.

"There's no use in lying now, Anxiety," he said calmly, his fingers flicking and fluttering all over Virgil's soles. "We all know that if you didn't like tickling, you wouldn't let us do this at all. Ergo you must enjoy tickling, more specifically being tickled, otherwise you wouldn't have put yourself in this position in the first place. Does that make sense?"

Virgil couldn't answer, because he was in heaven. Or maybe hell. Logan's fingers were deft and torturous, flitting back and forth faster than Virgil could process. Belatedly he wiggled his feet, trying to hide one behind the other and continuously failing. And damn Logan for real for being so observant, because when he noticed the spot on Virgil's arches that made him kick the hardest, he focused all of his attention there, switching between his feet as fast as he could.

"Wait wait wait, waitwaitwhaihaihaiait!" Virgil couldn't believe the noises that were coming out of his mouth right now. He had never laughed like this around the light sides-- had barely ever laughed at all-- and now they were getting to hear him like this, his giggles embarrassing and dorky and loud--

So loud, in fact, that he barely even heard Logan say, "Patton, would you like a turn?" before ten fingers dove in to vibrate all over his vulnerable, ticklish stomach.

"Nah-ahahahaha!" The shriek that left his lips shocked everyone in the room, and Virgil used the confusion to yank his arms out of Roman's grasp, sitting up and trying to launch off the couch in the same motion. He would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for Patton's meddling arms around his waist.

"Woah!" Patton laughed out. "Easy now, kiddo! Don't wanna waist this chance to get tickled!" On cue he tazed his fingers where they laid in the divots of Virgil's sides, causing the anxious side to jerk and flop like a worm on a string. His hands grappled desperately for Patton's, but he made no progress getting them off before Roman's hand entered his vision.

"Come back here, Gay-Lee Shrilliams!" Roman sang. Blindly, he grappled for Virgil's wrists, grabbing one and yanking him back towards Roman's end of the couch. Virgil was disoriented, and took the time to inhale greedy breaths before he was suddenly flipped around again. Now Logan was sat straddled over his shins, Patton kneeling on the floor beside him, and Roman's chest was pressed against his back with his wrists in each hand.

For a moment there was silence.

"Well," Logan said curtly. "Let's try that again, shall we?"

And immediately his hands were clamped above Virgil's knees, and they were off to the races.

"Ahahahahahahaha!"

"There we are," Logan said, a hint of smugness in his voice as he prodded up and down Virgil's thighs. "We'll have to avoid any further interruptions if we're going to find all of your ticklish spots, Anxiety. Please behave yourself."

"I'm-- you-- nahahaha!" Virgil squealed; Patton had placed his hands on either side of his ribs, and was now squeezing them as if Virgil were a particularly squeaky bagpipe.

"Hold him down!" he called affectionately. "He's a squirmer!"

Virgil gasped through his laughter as the other two followed Patton's instruction; he could feel them rearranging their positions on his arms and legs in order to keep him even more stuck than he already was. Blearily, he turned onto his side as much as possible, facing the back of the couch and weakly attempting to hide his stomach from his ticklers.

"Uh oh, where are you going?" Roman asked, all sugar sweetness. "Is someone trying to hide away? Hm? Big bad Anxiety trying to run away from the tickles?"

Without warning he released one of Virgil's hands, and took it upon himself to use his free hand to investigate all over Virgil's exposed armpit. Virgil spasmed and shrieked. His free hand might as well have not been there at all, considering how absolutely useless it was at protecting his armpit, or his ribs, or--

"Uh oh," Patton cooed, voice sickeningly sweet, and Virgil could only look on in giddy terror as he wiggled his fingers in the air. "Don't think I just forgot about that tummy, Anxiety!"

Just like before, Patton pressed all ten fingers into Virgil's stomach fat, wiggling mercilessly; unlike before, Virgil couldn't shoot himself off the couch with Patton himself kneeling in the way. Logan and Roman had stopped their tickles, but only so they could restrain him even further to avoid another escape attempt.

"Nihihihiehehehehehe!" Virgil didn't even know what he was begging for anymore. For less tickles, or more?

"A ticky-ticky-ticky-ticky-ticky!" Patton sang. "Who's a ticklish goober? Is it Anxiety? I think it is!" He giggled as he easily avoided Virgil's free hand, darting back and forth as it fruitlessly tried to cover his stomach from Patton's wiggling fingers.

Through his teary eyes, Virgil accidentally made eye contact with Roman. He immediately regretted it: both because he saw something akin to actual affection in Princey's eyes (which, gross) but more because he watched that affection slip away to smug mischief.

"Hey, don't be greedy, Padre!" Roman announced. "I want a turn!"

And with that he let go of Virgil's other hand, but the anxious side had no time to do anything about that before he, too, was digging his fingers into Virgil's stomach. Virgil squealed again, arching hid back and curling in on himself over and over in an endless loop. While Patton had no trouble attending to Virgil's tummy pudge, Roman's hands were positioned at the top of his stomach just below his ribs, and he had no issues at all jumping up to pinch and massage along the sensitive bones every few seconds.

"Fascinating," Logan said, and oh god, why did his voice make Virgil feel even more trapped than he already was? "Patton, scoot down a bit. I'd like to try something."

Virgil felt Patton slide his hands slightly up Virgil's torso, still plucking away at his oversensitive nerves like guitar strings.

"Slow down for a moment," Logan instructed, and the others listened, thank God. Virgil took the opportunity to breathe, his eyes screw tightly shut. He couldn't handle seeing Roman's smirk, or Patton's giddiness, or Logan's studying stare.

"I've noticed something in his reactions," the logical side continued. "And I have another hypothesis."

Virgil should've opened his eyes.

If he had, he might've been prepared for when Logan's fingers descended all around his bellybutton and squeezed.

Virgil shrieked. He screamed. He yelled and hollered and wailed and every other synonym he could think of, except he couldn't think at all because Logan was flexing his fingers over and over and over again with terrible, ruthless accuracy. Virgil used all his strength to try to curl up, but with Logan on his hips, Roman behind his back, and Patton in the middle, there was absolutely nothing he could do to protect his tummy from ticklish agony.

"I think we found his favorite spot!" Patton cooed.

Yeah, no fucking shit, Virgil thought wildly. He could barely breathe, his face hurt from smiling, his head was melty with joy, and his innards felt as if he had swallowed a dozen butterflies that continued to dance around inside of him. He felt trapped, and teased, and embarrassed, and desperate, and he--

And he loved it. Oh my God, he loved it. Had he been missing out on this all along?

It took a long, long time before Virgil realized that Logan had stopped. His hands, warm and heavy, laid flat on his stomach, and his palms rubbed firmly against his skin. He blinked his eyes opened-- when had he closed them?-- and realized he was practically lying down again, having slid so much he'd ended up resting his head against Roman's thigh. It took another minute for him to realize that his hand felt strange; looking over, he flushed anew when he saw Patton's large hand wrapped around his own, fingers intertwined. Did Virgil do that?

Reality jolted back into him, and like a bear trap he sprang up and closed in on himself, shrinking away from any touch.

"Um-- I'm done-- red," he stuttered. God, why was he a loser? They had already stopped tickling him, he didn't need to say the safeword-- but his skin still felt alight with nerves, and despite how the whole experience had made him feel, he really didn't think he could handle anymore tonight.

Virgil didn't know why it surprised him that all three of moved back, Logan and Roman scooting to either end of the couch and Patton leaning back on his haunches. It surprised him, but it shouldn't. Because they're them. The light sides, the "others" as he'd always thought of them-- they were nice. Fun. And they cared.

"So..."

And of course, there was Princey to ruin it. Virgil dared to shoot his eyes over and was met with the smuggest goddamn look he's ever seen on Roman's consistently smug face.

"Was it everything you hoped for, sweet Anxiety?" he crowed. Immediately Virgil dropped his face into his hands and groaned.

"Aw, there he goes! Too much sweet talking for such a sourpuss like you?"

Virgil hissed at him, only to hear twin snorts from the other two Sides. He looked up, betrayed.

"Apologies, Anxiety," Logan said, biting his bottom lip as he smiled. Patton was covering his own mouth with both hands. "I can assure you we hold no judgement or mockery for you. It's just that this entire display was... objectively adorable."

"Noooooo..." Virgil whined. He slid down in his seat and covered his face again. His cheeks burned against his palms.

It was only a few seconds before he felt a tap on his knee, and after a moment he lowered his hands enough to peek out beyond his fingers. Patton was there, ducking his head a bit to catch Virgil's eye.

"Was that fun?" he asked gently. A beat. Virgil nodded. "Would you like to do it again?"

Virgil snapped his arms down to his sides and slammed back against his seat. Patton raised his hands placatingly.

"In the future!" he said. "I just mean..."

He looked at the other two Sides before confirming, "Well, I think we all had fun. And we can work out what exactly you're comfortable with later, but... I hope you'd like to do that again sometime."

"Please--" Virgil blurted. "I mean. Yes. I want to. Again."

"Good," Logan said. "Now lay back down."

He looked over, inquisitive, only to flush again as Logan leaned back and patted his lap.

"You can't seriously think I'm gonna fall for that."

"We are not going to tickle you again unless you explicitly ask for it," Logan said (and wow, now Virgil was gonna have to store that away in his anxiety-fantasies, not getting tickled anymore unless he uses his words). "You've just been exerted very quickly in a very short amount of time, you've been anxious and twitchy all day prior to this evening, and even now you're struggling to remain upright."

Virgil blinked; it was true. His head was lolled back against the cushion. His body was tired, it's true, but his mind felt somewhat hazy, somewhat calm. He blinked slowly.

"... Are you gonna put the movie back on?"

Roman scoffed. "Of course we are. We know you need background noise, Sleeping Beauty."

Right. Of course they knew that. Because they knew him, now.

Virgil fidgeted, then nodded. "I'd... I'd like that."

And he did.