#shrinking!virgil

[kraeki]

Did Virgil grow or Mo shrink or have they always been like this??

[orions-choker]

+:★:+*Chapter One: Whiplash+:★:+*

The beginning of summer, 1983, the Kill ‘Em All for One tour was just about to begin. What should have been the start of months of booze, chicks and music for the boys, turned into a rescue mission. It was no secret to the entirety of the band that James’s family life was strained at best, no one blamed him for not talking about it. It came as a shock to them when James approached the band with a request.

“You have a sister?” was the instantaneous response from Kirk, his brows furrowed in confusion as he sat on the ground of the hot garage, tuning his guitar. “Well okay, I knew you had siblings but aren't they like…kids?”

Lars shook his head “No.” he said voice heavy with his danish accent. “Thats fucking stupid bringing a kid on a metal tour.” there was an unwarranted hint of annoyance in his tone.

James groaned, head falling back with a roll of his eyes. “Shut the fuck up you didn’t even let me finish.” He snapped. His hand ran through his messy blonde locks in exasperation. “Y/N, my youngest sister, she's 18, not a kid, there's no one else to take her in, our brother won't let her stay without me around and I'm not sending her to live with Virgil.” He spat his fathers name in disgust.

“Point stands dude, is it a smart idea to bring a young lady on a tour with a bunch of drunk assholes?” Cliff, ever the voice of reason, finally interjected. “I’m not saying no I just think you should think about it.” He shrugged casually, tossing his hair back behind his shoulders.

“Of course it's not a good idea, I have no other choice though dude.” James sighed. He tossed himself down onto the old couch, head hanging low, hands clasped together. “She's the only family I really care about. I can't let her be homeless right now and god knows I don't have a place for her to stay.”

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Kirk smiled wide, crooked teeth on full display. He raised his hand in the air. “I promise to be on my best behavior then!” It earned him a drumstick to the back of his head. He whipped his head around to lars, clutching at the impact sight. “Dude, the fuck?”

Lars pointed his other drumstick towards James. “I cant fucking believe we’re saying yes to this, you owe us big time man.” He growled, ignoring Kirk’s cries of pain. “And for the record im doing as many drugs as I want and banging as many chicks as I want I dont give a fuck.”

With the conversation settled it was a week later that James’s little sister showed up in front of the old worn down tour bus. Two large duffle bags in tow, the entirety of her belongings packed into those duffle bags. She looked up to her brother, in astonishment, her hazel eyes wide and sparkly.

Despite the sorry state the bus was in, Y/N had declared it to be one of the coolest things she had ever seen. “Woah…” She mumbled as James slung an arm around her small shoulders. She was dressed clad in tight black jeans, her huge combat boots and one of James’s own band shirts.

“Pretty cool right.” James assured her with a small shake before moving towards the door. “Plus the guys agreed you get the master bedroom in the back.” He informed her, helpfully leaving out the fact that Lars had thrown quite the fit when they voted for that.

She smiled sweetly up at her brother, tucking her short messy blonde hair behind her ears, just a few shades lighter than James’s own. “Thanks James…” She sighed softly. “I’m sorry again…” She trailed off awkwardly. It hadn’t been her first choice, but when James informed their older half brother he would be leaving on tour.. All hell broke loose. Y/N was no longer welcome to stay and having freshly graduated highschool she had no chance to get on her feet.

James shook his head, ignoring her apology. Grabbing his own bags he led the two of them to the door of the bus, pushing it open to be greeted by the rambunctious sounds of 3 other men. It died down as the two Hetfield siblings boarded the bus. Y/N’s first instinct was to shrink behind the much taller form of her older brother.

“Y/N, this is Lars, Cliff, and Kirk.” He introduced the boys one by one. Y/N had a lot of thoughts based on first impressions. Taking in the sight of each of them she formed an idea of what their personalities would be like. She did this, she enjoyed making whole stories for a person based on their appearance, always eager to be proven right.

Lars was a spitfire, small and full of pent up energy. He already looked half cut and drunk when her eyes landed on him. She couldn't help but notice there seemed to be a sheen to his skin that the others didn't have, sweaty maybe. The drummer she surmised, drummers were always sweaty.

Cliff oozed calm energy, relaxing even as he sat sprawled across the couch. The cloud of smoke around him implied he was most certainly high but even still she could tell he was a comforting person. Despite this she could see hard calluses across his fingers, he was passionate about his playing for sure.

And Kirk, well…Kirk knocked the wind from her lungs. His dark curious eyes were the first to meet her gaze out of all the boys. His head cocked to the side, dark soft curls framed his face like a sweet halo. His lips were pulled into a small smile, and he waved at her. A wave that sent a pang through Y/N’s heart that was hard to describe. She couldn’t make any assumptions about Kirk, no she wanted to learn everything about him.

Y/N blinked hard, realizing the silence that fell across them, waiting for her introduction. “Shit, sorry, nice to meet you, I'm Y/N.” She greeted them awkwardly, her mouth tugging into an uncomfortable smile. In a desperate attempt to get away from the situation she turned to her brother and in a small whisper she asked. “Can I go to my room now please?”

A frown came over James’s face. “Yeah sure just dont hide in there forever.” He sighed, gesturing towards the back of the bus. Past all the bunks lined up on the side Y/N could see a small sliding door that presumably led to the private room.

She hoisted the duffle bags higher on her arms and with a small nod at each of the boys she scurried past. Not willing to make eye contact with Kirk again as she left. She could hear James talking to the boys.

“Give her time and she’ll open up. It's been a rough couple of years. I don't think she’s all there anymore.” He explained the disappointment evident in his voice. It stung Y/N a little. She was fully aware of her shortcomings in the social department but it still sucked to hear her own brother confirm it,

The bus was small that's for sure, aside from the front cabin that housed the small kitchen and common space there was a total of four bunks, a criminally small bathroom and finally her room the only private room on the whole bus. Even that was lackluster. A double sized bed sat smack in the middle, storage for clothes tucked away underneath, one small window at the head of the bed and a small Tv tucked into a cubby with a tape player.

Y/N wasn’t one to complain, it sure beat homelessness, and ideally she wouldn’t spend too much time cramped up here, if she was going across the entire country she may as well enjoy it. She got to work tucking away her clothes, toiletries and the few trinkets she owned, mainly a few small teddy bears, birthday gifts from her brother. She placed them lovingly against her pillows.

With a lurch the bus moved forward, sending Y/N tumbling against the mattress. She frowned and grumbled. “A little warning would have been nice.” As the later afternoon sun beat down through the back window, Y/N was incredibly thankful for the AC unit working overtime in her room.

She sighed happily, sitting down right in front of it, she had worked up a sweat maneuvering around the small room. She grabbed a small sketch pad from her purse, crossing her legs underneath herself and pulling out a pencil. Art had been her escape for many years, she wasn’t musically inclined like her brother but she was creative nonetheless.

The sky turned dark by the time she finally put the pencil down, her pages were adorned with messy markings, resembling a certain dark haired curly boy. She frowned at the paper, moving to erase a blemish she had made when there was a knock at the door.

Y/N squeaked in surprise, quickly rushing to shove her sketchbook aside before sliding the door open hesitantly. Much to Y/N’s chagrin, she came face to face with Kirk. He held a sweet comforting smile for her, his hand still raised in a knocking motion. Y/N found it hard to breathe again, words escaping her as she got a better view of his face up close. His skin was bare and smooth, a beautiful tan color, a mole on his cheek she never noticed. There were some revisions she would have to make to her drawings.

“Hey, we're stopping at the next McDonalds, want anything?” he asked. The first time she heard his voice and it sounded like the chime of church bells. Boyish and awkward but it dripped with warm honey. She caught sight of his teeth as he spoke, a little sharp, a little crooked. He was endearing in every way. “Y/N?” Her name slipped past his lips like he was made to say it.

Fuck, she was staring again. She coughed awkwardly, averting her gaze. “Uh yeah, I’ll come in with you guys.” She mumbled barely above a whisper. Kirk took a few steps back to allow her to exit her room. She slid the door closed behind her. “Thank you.” As Y/N followed him to the front of the bus she could hear the static-y voices of a movie playing. On the small T.V in the common area was The Amityville Horror. Her eyes lit up in excitement, turning to her brother.

“Why didn’t you come get me?” She asked James, gesturing to the T.V. Her lips pulled into a playful pout. “You know I love this movie, what the hell man.” She jokingly complained to her older brother.

James, with beer in hand, raised his eyebrow at her. “I didn’t put this shit on, Kirk did.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his beverage. Y/N turned to Kirk with a grin, the most emotion she had shown since she stepped foot on the bus earlier that day.

Kirk returned her smile tenfold, his toothy grin finally on full display for Y/N to see. She wanted to memorize that look on his face, memorialize it forever with pencil and paper. “Horror fan?” He asked, excitement evident in his voice.

Y/N scoffed playfully, her eyes rolling in exaggeration. “You don’t even know.” she informed him. “I have an insane collection of tapes I can show you.” This earned her an audible groan from her older brother, clearly haven been subjected to her obsession for a long time.

The bus screeched to a halt, the interior illuminated by the bright yellow of the golden arches outside. Y/N all but clung to Kirk as they piled out into the mostly dead parking lot. Rowdy laughter filled the air as the boys stretched their legs. Y/N and Kirk remained in an animated discussion about the mutual love for all things horror they shared.

Even as they sat down to eat, picking at the warm salt fries, it was like no one else existed in that moment aside from the two of them. They bonded over shared favorite authors and directors. Y/N was quick to pull out an old sketch pad, filled to the brim with her creature concepts, guts, gore and blood decorated the pages.

“Holy crap chick.” Kirk mumbled around a mouthful of his food. “James didn’t tell us you were an artist, this is creepy as shit!” he pointed excitedly to a page of demons, quick to display it to the rest of the table. “It’s incredible.”

The rest of the boys nodded along in agreement, mostly too caught up in their own conversations. Cliff leaned over for a closer look. “You should design some merch for us.” He smiled at Y/N warmly.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She scrambled to retrieve the book from Kirk's hands, clutching it close to her chest. Heat rose to her cheeks, and a sheepish smile tugged at her mouth. “Oh, uh thank you! Maybe when I’m a bit better, these aren't great.” She insisted with a shake of her head.

Kirk rolled his eyes at her, playfully flinging a fry towards her. “They look great, don't sell yourself short.” His affirmation caused the blush on Y/N’s cheeks to grow deeper. Y/N dipped her head in appreciation, finishing the rest of her meal quietly.

Much to the disappointment of everyone aside from Y/N and Kirk, they spent the rest of that evening running through Y/N’s horror film collection. Eventually falling asleep to the background noise of halloween, a tangled mess of bodies and limbs. Y/N pried herself from the couch softly.

She couldn't help but smile fondly as she made her way towards her own room, seeing all the boys curled around each other in awkward positions on the couch. Her eyes lingered on Kirk's peaceful sleeping face, his head resting against Cliff, mouth parted slightly as he snored softly. Silently she thanked her brother for insisting she tag along for this tour, and suddenly it felt like 6 months on the road was far too short.

[dndeceit]

Fander Fic Rec Friday (#6)

(Borrowers and Tinies Edition)

Tiny Tenants by KieraElieson Borrowers AU (Gen, Analogical-ish) Rating: T In a world where borrowers are unfortunately known to the world, Logan slowly earns the trust of first one, and then a growing number of tiny roommates. Notes: One of my comfort re-reads. This was one of the first fics I read in this fandom (before I was even properly in the fandom, really). It was also probably the first fic I ever read with Janus.

Infinitesimal by callboxcat Borrowers AU (Gen) Rating: T Logan and Roman are roommates who happen across a very badly abused (and tiny) Patton one day on the beach. A lot of mistakes are made before understandings are reached. Meanwhile, in the walls of the same building, Virgil lives with his overprotective brother, Emile. Notes: This one is technically a Littles AU, not a Borrowers AU, which I appreciate because I never actually read the borrowers books, but I did watch the Littles cartoons when I was a kid. Also, the tails just make everything better.

Turn Tail and Run by OreoOverlord Borrowers AU (Gen) Rating: G Patton is a kid who rescues a very tiny naga from his cat. Janus is...confused by the behavior of this human who caught him. Note: This one is really cute.

A Little Misunderstanding by Theatersweetheart Borrowers AU (Gen) Rating: G Logan has built a shrink-ray. Unfortunately he has shrunk himself. While he's working out the solution to this problem, he makes the acquaintance of a roommate he didn't realize he had. Meanwhile, Patton is a little concerned about the his missing human, but at least he has another borrower to talk to. Notes: This one is part of a collection. Probably a lot of other very good stories in here, but this is the one I remember. Took a couple hours hunting it down, specifically, because it's fun.

Time from Inside the Clock by Random_Sanders_Sides_Gt Borrower AU/Timeloop AU (Gen) Rating: G Virgil is a borrower who has just had the misfortune of being captured by the human he lives with. Except then he wakes up and it never happened. Given a second chance to avoid being discovered by Roman, Virgil...fails. And he fails again. And again. And again... Notes: This combo of tropes is just really, really interesting.

Sanders Family by KaytiKitty Borrower AU Rating: G Thomas and Dee are brothers (despite living in a world where Dee is legally his pet). They move into a new home that (unknown to them) already hosts a different family. One that doesn't believe that Dee could possibly be safe in the human's care. Notes: The awkward hijinks of trying to rescue someone from a situation they do not need rescuing from.

WIPs

Pay no attention to the sounds in the walls by RocRolWriter Borrowers AU (Gen) Rating: T Janus is injured rescuing the twins from a trap, and winds up falling into Logan's hands in their place. Janus has every intent of keeping Logan from finding out about the younger borrowers and biding his time until he can escape. Roman and Remus have other ideas. Notes: Inspired by Tiny Tenants, but more focused on Janus and the twins. Also, all the borrowers are part animal. The twins are little disaster rats, and it's adorable.

Devil on Your Shoulder by KieraElieson Borrowers AU (Gen) Rating: T Virgil is a neglected foster kid. Janus is a borrower doing what little he can to look out for him. Revealing the existence of borrowers is very much against the rules, though. Good thing Virgil is convinced that Janus is the devil that lives on his shoulder. Notes: I love the reversal of the tiny character being the protective one. Their relationship in this is so sweet.

in sickness and in health by delimeful Borrowers AU (Gen) Rating: T Pretty typical borrowers sickfic of a tiny roommate helping out an ailing human in secret...except for the whole part where borrower!Virgil was raised by a murder cult. Notes: The worldbuilding around the borrower cult is so fucking interesting, even before you get into the drama and misunderstandings that happen because of it.

mere monstrosity by delimeful Borrowers AU (Gen) Rating: T Virgil is a small spider person living in the walls of a home shared by Logan, Janus and Patton. Then two borrower brothers move in and misunderstandings are had. Notes: Probably one of the only fics where borrowers are the ones behaving badly. (Well, Janus is a bit of a menace, but whatever.)

I just really, really like borrowers AUs, but more than that, they're what drew me into Sanders Sides. I'd read a few in another fandom, and it led me into a pretty intense binge. While reading every one I could find in any fandom, I noticed that there were a lot for Sanders Sides. Which isn't always enough to make me curious enough to go check out a new fandom, but the names of the characters (their roles, specifically) were interesting. And then of course there was one of them named Deceit, who seemed to have a recurring theme of snakes popping up across so many of these different AUs... Now that made me curious.

And the rest was history...

[football-and-fanfics]

What I Didn't Tell You - Virgil van Dijk

Who: Virgil van Dijk Prompt: "Stop telling me you're okay." Notes with request: Virgil trying to stay strong for the rest of the team after klopp announces his departure as everyone’s upset and he tries to downplay how he’s feeling and care for everyone else but klopp knows somethings up nd confronts him and it’s just a wholesome moment. Requested by: anonymous Word count: 605 Warnings: contains descriptions of being sad.

Klopp's announcement that he would be leaving at the end of the season was a shock to everyone at Liverpool FC, and surely not the least to Virgil. He had been expecting to be told a lot that day, but certainly not this.

That meeting and that announcement were now nearly a month ago. Virgil had processed the initial shock, but he found that it kept nagging at him. He didn't show any of it to his teammates, but he felt uneasy and down lately, like some kind of doomsday was getting closer and closer to him.

Virgil did his best to keep his current state of mind hidden from the team. They didn't need him sad and beaten down, they needed him to be their strong leader and captain. So, whenever he was around the team, he put up a mask of his usual self to cover up how he truly felt.

For a few weeks everything seemed alright, and Virgil believed no one saw how he was really doing. Still, it got harder and harder to keep up appearances, and Virgil knew at least some of his teammates started seeing through the cracks. But the person finally addressing things wasn't who Virgil had expected it to be.

"Virgil." Klopp stopped his captain from leaving after today's team meeting. "A word." Virgil halted, watching the rest of the team file out of the meeting room. "Something wrong, boss?" He asked once he was the only one left in the room with Klopp. The mask was back on, the forced smile playing on Virgil's lips. But Klopp wasn't fooled. "I could ask you the same thing."

An involuntary shock went through Virgil. He didn't mean for it to happen, but he hadn't quite expected Klopp had seen through him. Virgil meant to speak, but Klopp was faster. "And stop telling me you're okay," the German spoke, "because I know you're not."

Klopp watched Virgil shrink a few centimeters as the Dutchman's shoulders slouched. Virgil sighed defeatedly and sat down on the nearest table. "It's..." Virgil struggled to find the words. "It's me leaving." Klopp finished the sentence for him. "Is it not?" Virgil looked up at his boss. The man he knew so well, who knew him so well, and who meant so much to him. "Yes." Virgil hesitated to speak the word, but admitting to it was strangely a big relief.

Klopp was silent for a few seconds. He had always known that his departure would impact his team, but never like this. "Ever since I have been here, it's always been you who led the team," Virgil spoke, the deep rumble of his voice filled with emotion, "and I know someone else will come along, but it's going to be... different."

Klopp strode forward a few paces and gently rested his hand on Virgil's shoulder. "I can't deny it's going to be different for you, but you'll be alright. You're strong, kind, and a natural born leader to this team. And that will always remain, with or without me here." Virgil shrugged. "But that doesn't take away the fact that I'm going to miss you." Klopp smiled his characteristic smile. "I appreciate that."

Virgil slowly rose back to his feet. Klopp watched him. "But before I leave, we have a season to finish. And I need you for that." "I am," Virgil answered defiantly, "I'm 100% here for that." "Good." Klopp pulled Virgil into a tight bear hug. "And don't bottle up any more of those feeling. You knew where to find me to talk." Virgil smiled gratefully into Klopp's shoulder. "I will."

Request an imagine Virgil van Dijk masterlist | Full writing masterlist

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

My Writing Masterpost

Updated as of 9/12/2024

To check if there are any newer fics since this has been updated, look for the tag #my fic

You can also read many of these on AO3

My Multi-chapter Fics:

We Could Try? 1, 2, 3, 

Patton had found out. He’d found out not only that Virgil was ticklish, and not only that he actually liked it, but also that he’d never had a real tickle session.

Sequels: I do not understand, The Price of Cookies

Grumpy, Sorry

Virgil is grumpy and gets tickled by Patton, and tickles him back a bit. Later, Patton gets him back even more.

Tickle Week: Sunday, the idea, Monday, Dee and Logan, Tuesday, Patton and Roman, Wednesday, Roman and Virgil, 

“Well, seeing as there are six of us, I propose a tickle week. We’ll leave Sunday off, but every other day we’ll put names in a hat and draw one, and whoever’s name is drawn becomes a tickle toy for the whole day.”

The Tickle House:

Virgil’s New Job,

At the End of a Bad Day

Scribbling

There’s a place called the tickle house, where you can pay to tickle or be tickled. Virgil and Janus work there, and the others often visit.

Tickletober 2020:

One: Unusual Spot

Two: Feathers

Three: Stocks

Four: Scribbling

Five: Drawn on

Six: Kiss

Seven: Unusual Tool

Eight: Interrogation

Nine: Ganged Up On

Twenty-Three: Asking For It

My One-shots:

Roman’s Idea is Best

Written with @barelyticklishlee: Roman has a fantastic idea for Thomas’s date. Virgil doesn’t agree, at least at first.

When Patton gets into a Ler mood at the same time as Virgil is in a Lee Mood. 

Pretty self-explanatory

A bit of something soft

Patton’s having a hard day, so Virgil cuddles and tickles him

Cheating at Games is Ill-Advised

Virgil cheats at a tickling game with Logan, and gets very tickled.

Pay Attention

Virgil can’t pay attention to the conversation with Roman and Patton tickling him.

Beware of Running Away from Lers

Virgil tries to run away from Roman

Arms Up

Virgil tickles Roman’s armpits

Belly

Patton feels fat, but Roman still loves him just as much, and wants him to feel so much better.

When Patton has a Hard Day

Patton is feeling down, but tickling Virgil might help him feel better~

Unnamed Fic

Logan gets soft back tickles from Roman.

The Sweetest Lee

Tickling a sweet little lee is just the best thing ever~

It feels better when you just let it happen ;)

Cuddly tickles for Roman.

Remus Catches a Lee

Virgil's been caught in a trap and gets tickled to pieces.

Virgil’s Voice

Virgil wants tickles, but can't voice his requests, so Roman helps him out, getting him all the tickles he wants.

Dwindling Creativity

Roman shrinks down as Thomas's creativity is used up. Janus helps to distract him from his work.

Sacrifice

Patton is gonna tickle someone. If not a sacrifice, then everyone~

Requests:

Roman wants to join

Lee Roman

14 and 25 with Lee Deceit and Let Patton please?

No regrets, with Roman and Remus maybe?

oh requests?? hmm maybe either 22 or 25 w lee virgil and any ler you like?

14 with LerRoman and LeeLogan???

w/ pat ro and lo testing which of virgil's spots is the worst

Tell that to the tickle monster: Ler Patton and Lee Virgil.

16 Any pairing u think fits!!!! 

I know something sweeter than cookies: same pairing, Ler Patton and Lee Virgil.

maybe 29 with ler!patton and lee!logan? 

4 with Lee Roman and Ler Deceit? 

11 with Ler Logan and Lee Roman please 

22 with Lee Logan and Let Remus please? 

19 Lee Deceit and Ler Virgil and Remus please? 

Do you think you could do 3 with a lee Deceit?

9, with Roceit? :3 

16 and 7 with Lee Deceit and Ler Patton please 

Shy Lee Janus being forced to ask for tickles from Ler Logan?

Logan noticing Virgil having a bad day and and just having him lay down and giving him a pillow to giggle and blush into while he traces Virgil's back with his fingers or fluffy brushes to help him relax❤

Moceit cheer up tickles? 😃 (Lee Patton and Ler Janus, if you would)

oh prompts! maybe lee Patton ler roman with some sort of challenge? (Don't move, laugh, smile, whatever)

What about a lee!Virgil? (ler!your choice. Preferably a twin.) Someone comes in to wake him up from a nap, or something, with pokes. Virgil is still half asleep at this point, so he has no filter.

Lee Roman denying his in a Lee mood but Janus is behind him smirking because he knows when someone lies?

So, peharps a bit of Lee!Janus and Ler!Roman, please? Maybe Janus is monopolizing Roman's bed because it's soft and warm and g e t o f f XDD.

Lee!virgil ler!roman? That’s my everything lol

What about Lee Virgil being pranked with tickles by Remus but once Remus stops he shyly asks for more? Please and thank you!

If you're still taking requests maybe lee Janus being overly grumpy and getting cheer up tickles from Logan?

How about Remus acting as annoying little brothers do, and Roman getting back at him with some extra teasey tickles

may I request lee Logan and ler Patton where Pat's just gushing over how cute Lo is while tickling him?

Can please do some Lee janus and ler patton? Like Janus is being suspicious, and Patton is trying to figuring out what he is doing.

For the prompts thing how about Patton ticking Logan to make him take a break from working? 

Ler Logan and Lee Remus, if you are up for it. Remus starts to bother Logan while he is working and Logan gets payback with tickles, knowing secretly that Remus wanted this to happen. ???

Pre-Accepting Anxiety Virgil walks in to the common room to see the Light Sides having a tickle fight, cue big Lee MoodTM. So now he's awkwardly trying to keep up his bad guy persona while desperately trying to figure out how to tell them that he NEEDS to be WRECKED!

Prompts! How about Patton tickling Logan to make him take a break from working I can never get enough of that! 😂

Lee!Patton and Ler!Logan (or whoever you wish!) Patton has always been the mind palace tickle monster and after a week of his evil ler moods and tickle attacks Logan turns the tables and gets revenge tickles?

Ok so... after Accepting Anxiety, Virgil is a little shaken from his name reveal. He sorta hides away in his room because he’s embarrassed, until Roman comes in to check on him and cheer him up and make him feel welcome with tickles 🥺

Logan maybe gets hurt, (trips or bumps against something) and Patton decides to tend to him, making sure he's not injured badly, but it turns out Logan is ticklish where Patton is examining

Ler Patton Lee Deceit - Patton accidentally brushes by Deceits scales and it sets Deceit into a fit of giggles. So Patton gets curious and starts to poke and stroke the patches of scales that are all over Deceits body. And Deceit secretly not so secretly enjoys this

Maybe some cheer up tickles with Logicality where both were watching a show and a tickle scene appeared and person B is like "Oh, this is a signal. That is how I should cheer up my friend."?

How about lee!janus and ler!virgil where Virgil remembers Janus being super ticklish back when he lived with the dark sides still and decides to see if he's still that ticklish.

Could you do a college AU where the core 4 are in their university’s theatre department? Like... they all are walking back to the dorms and they find out Roman is extremely ticklish and tickle and tease him the whole way back??

How about lee Logan hiding his lee mood from Virgil?

lee!Virgil and ler Patton, Logan, and Roman. Virgil has a huge lee mood and is way to shy to ask to be tickled so he drop little hints to try and get tickles( more like Virgil being an a** and a bratty little sh*t). The sides act like they don’t know what he want, but do. So they force him to ask

anything lee logan? I would DIE for lee logan

Okay I’m bored and I need lee!Virgil and lers Janus and Remus

Anything lee Logan would be delightful! Thank you!

I was wondering if you could do something where Virgil gets stuck somewhere and the twins find him and team up to take advantage of the situation? Thank you in advance, your work is amazing!

I would like to make a trade. I will give you a boop for lee!Logan ler!Remus. :D

Janus with hypersensitive scales is the bestttt so how about a rude snake getting tickled to tears by an unforgiving Ler Logan? Maybe using a new tool that makes Janus scream?

[brandstifter-sys]

Based on a previous ask

*Remus lying in bed sleeping the day Virgil left*

*Virgil lying in bed sleeping when he left*

*Remus and him open their eyes in shock and jolt up*

Them in unison:OH MY FUCKING GOD I WAS IN LOVE WITH VEE/REMUS-

The previous ask

Their eyes fly open in the dark, pupils blown wide to accommodate the lack of light, only to shrink as the horror dawns on them. They might never have what they had again

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

baby verse (which I adore) thoughts:

because some amount of the magic has clearly stuck around (teeny Virgil with grown up Janus MURDERED ME, I am DEAD /pos) will we ever see the inverted version? like, where Logan and/or Patton get shrinkened and suddenly all *their* issues come to light?

i havent decided if logicality get a shrinking, mostly because of the reasoning i put in kidding around itself - if logan and patton shrink, i truly think that it would be catastrophic for c!thomas, and it would make finding a "solution" a much more immediately pressing concern, outcompeting the character interaction and catharsis im really looking for with this series.

this is not to say that logicality wont be getting any focus, have decently detailed plans surround patton herding his jumpy feral cat of a boyfriend into a romantic relationship like he's swaddling a wet screaming kitten

[snowdice]

Folds in Paper: Book 2 (Chapter 1: Reprieve) [Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sander Sides

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

Characters: Janus, Patton, Emile, Remus, Roman, Logan, Virgil, Remy

Summary: Janus is trying. After spending months trapped in time with his enemy turned... something else, Janus is trying to find meaning in a world where he or anyone else could rewrite history with one simple mistake.

During his leave from the Time Preservation Initiative, the time distortions that have been causing disastrous ripples in time have not gone anywhere. His partner's past is more mysterious than ever and old and new alliances are shifting. Can Janus figure out what is going wrong with time before that time is up?

The problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12.

Chapter Summary:

Things are harder, better, but harder.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol, sexual innuendo, character with depression, character with ptsd

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

This is Book 2, Check out Book 1 and the other part of this series here.

“What’s this?” Janus asked when a giant bowl was set on the coffee table in front of him.

“We’re eating on the couch tonight,” Emile said cheerfully.

Janus raised an eyebrow and switched off the tablet he’d been using. “Why?” he asked, setting the device aside.

Emile shrugged and set a second huge bowl down next to Janus’s. “For fun,” Emile said. He turned back towards the kitchen and Janus leaned forward to look in the bowl. It was spaghetti with some sort of creamy sauce and a few different vegetables mixed in along with some shrimp.

“I made green tea too,” Emile said, coming back into the room with two mugs.

“Thanks,” Janus said, taking one of the mugs with a small smile.

“What were you doing?” Emile asked as he took a seat beside Janus. He nodded at the deactivated screen now sitting on the end table.

“Just playing some puzzle games,” Janus said.

“That sounds fun,” Emile said with a smile.

“Head doctor said they might be a good thing to do to pass the time when I told him to fuck off after suggesting reading.”

Emile sighed. “Dr. Figueroa is my colleague. You could try to be polite.”

“I thought I was supposed to be my authentic self in therapy,” Janus replied.

Emile just huffed and rolled his eyes. Janus couldn’t help but smile as he picked up his mug of green tea.

The last few months had been…different. In a lot of ways, Janus’s life had become harder than it had been before. It had been easy to do nothing but eat pre-prepared meals, go to work, and pass out in his empty house every day. It wasn’t good for him. He’d known it even then, but it had been easy. This was not.

Emile had offered, insisted really, that Janus move into his house for a bit just to get back on his feet. He’d taken time off of the TPI which would have been given to him anyway since he’d spent so long trapped in the past. He’d had to give a report of what had happened, and he’d mentioned Patton, but he hadn’t mentioned everything. They’d offered him a shrink when he’d asked.

Janus had told Emile he needed to tell him something about why he’d been distant, so he wouldn’t end up chickening out, but he’d asked for a bit of time to figure out what to say. He’d finally worked up the courage to talk about it with Dr. Figueroa two weeks ago. Much like with Patton, it was easier to talk to someone who hadn’t been involved in Janus’s mistake, but it still wasn’t easy.

He was running up on the deadline he’d given Emile for having that talk. It had to happen soon, and they both knew it, but Emile was just patiently waiting for him to suck it up. It felt… wrong to use his kindness without him knowing the truth, but it was also nice to get to spend time with his brother. He didn’t even dare to hope that he’d still have the chance once he told him.

He was moving back into his own house in less than a week. He’d tell him then so if Emile ended up kicking him out of his life, he wouldn’t have to kick him out of his home too.

For now though, everything was fine. Harder, more complicated, and in threat of imploding at any moment, but fine. Fine wasn’t something he’d really felt in a long time. Or at least, fine while in his own time wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time. There’d been a few moments with Patton sitting next to the fire outside the hole in the ground they’d slept in for those few months where the man would turn to look at him and he’d felt fine. Yet, Patton had been right. Those moments were unsustainable with how Janus was actually feeling deep down.

“This is good,” Janus said, after taking a couple of bites of the pasta in front of him.

“Well, I always was the only one in the house that could cook,” Emile said, and that was true. “It was either learn to fend for myself or eat a cheeseburger for every meal.”

“Hey, I had a good burger seasoning.”

“Not for every meal, Janus.”

“Meat, dairy, bread. What more could you want?”

“Vegetables, Janus.”

“You could have put pickles on them!”

“I don’t like pickles.”

“That sounds like your problem, not mine,” Janus argued.

Emile shook his head, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “How have you been surviving on your own?”

“Well, I mean,” Janus said. “Badly.”

“Right…” Emile said. He leaned over to bump their shoulders together. Janus flashed him a smile.

“Speaking of,” said Janus. “Could you physically force me to pack tonight? I meant to do it today and instead I ended up playing puzzles games.”

Emile chucked. “Sure, I’ll help you after dinner.”

“You don’t have to help me,” said Janus. “Just make me do it.”

“Maybe I want to help,” said Emile.

“Oh, yes, packing. The most entertaining of Thursday night activities.”

Emile hummed and then glanced at him. “Remember when you helped me pack for college?” he asked.

“Mmm, I do,” Janus replied.

“I was so stressed about going somewhere new,” Emile said, “that I avoided packing for weeks. Every time Mom would ask me how packing was going, I’d tell her it was going fine but in reality, I hadn’t even started. You came home two days before I had to leave because you were going to help me move into my dorm. It’s like you could sense no packing had been done the moment you stepped through the front door.”

“You were doing your ‘hiding the broken horse statue from mom’ shuffle,” Janus said with a smirk.

“Well, you walked me straight to my room and we packed everything up in those two days,” Emile said. “You made it so much easier.”

“Yeah, because I hovered over you until you did it and did half of it for you,” Janus snorted.

“It wasn’t just that,” Emile said. “You also found the music streaming station run by the university and put that on and talked about what your freshman year was like. You also had tips on what things I should and shouldn’t pack when moving into the dorm.”

“You still took all of the cartoon character stuffed animals despite my advice.”

“I thought there’d be more space on the bed,” Emile frowned.

Janus snorted.

“But anyway, just having someone else around made me happier. It wasn’t just about the workload being halved either. You being there made me feel less lonely and reminded me I’d always have someone to come back to.”

Janus internally winced. He was sure Emile hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty in any way. In fact, he probably was trying to do the opposite, but him saying that just reminded Janus that it hadn’t been true. Janus had abandoned him for literal years and hadn’t been someone he could always come back to.

The last few months, Emile had proven himself to be at least close to who he was before Janus had messed with time. There were a couple of differences here and there, and Janus could not be sure if they were from him changing time or from him avoiding his brother for the past three years and him naturally changing. Most memories they shared that Janus cautiously brought up or Emile mentioned on his own were consistent with what Janus remembered, but he hadn’t pushed too hard or dug too deep. It just made him feel more guilty about avoiding the man for so long.

It made him want to ignore the man more, because it seemed every choice Janus ever made only hurt him.

…

Well, perhaps not the college radio station when helping an anxious 18-year-old pack up his childhood bedroom.

He should probably tell Emile that his words made him feel guilty because that was obviously not the intention and he’d want to know. He should probably apologize properly for leaving him alone for three years without an explanation. He should probably provide an explanation for those three years.

He should probably go see the head doctor again soon.

(He should probably stop calling Emile’s colleague who was in the same field as him a head doctor derogatorily in his head.)

For now, he just glanced at Emile. “You’re trying to bully me into letting you help pack with logic, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Emile confirmed without remorse.

“Fine,” Janus sighed, “but only if you let me do the dishes for you.”

Emile took a long moment to consider the offer. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said, “but okay.”

“And no doing anything sneaky like getting bags ready for me on your own while I’m doing it or the deal is off,” Janus said.

“You always think of all possible loopholes, Janus,” Emile sighed.

There was a long silence.

“Agree, you prick,” said Janus.

“No promises,” Emile replied cheekily with laughter in his eyes, and things were good for a moment more.

[cutiecorner]

Late Night

Fanfic • agere • regressor! Virgil Hawkins, caring! John Stewart & J'onn J'onzz • AO3

Static Shock brain still going strong. Virgil wins Little Guy of the Year award. I couldn't find any ambient gifs of Dakota so I just used this cute one of Static! Trigger warning for themes of grief.

Virgil could not be more excited about his summer on the watchtower. A whole month of bashing bad guys with the biggest heroes on earth? Literally a dream come true. He knew he was gonna have a blast with the titans, and maybe save the world to boot. Even the first day was exciting, stopping a joker gang incident in jolly old Gotham. It was a good workout, but he was excited to get back to his quarters. He had packed his suitcase like he was packing for college - It’s not every day you get to say your stuff has been to space. Deep down though, there was one item he was the most happy to see.

“Enjoying the view, Pluto?” Virgil picked up the beanie baby puppy and tossed it back and forth, feeling the nice weight in his hands. It had been his favorite toy since he was a baby, and he had to admit, he was a little too sentimental to leave him behind. It was a little piece of home to take with him. Not to mention it reminded him of his mom. He laid on the bed with the dog on his chest, telling him about the day he had. 

“- and then I swooped in and kshoom! Hit him with the energy ball! Then Bam! Take a moped to the jaw!” Virgil took the puppy and looked it in the face, “Wish you could’ve seen it, moms”.

He decided to spend a little of his down time brushing up on his Brawlin Bots game. Cyborg had wiped the floor with him earlier and he was not about to have a repeat of that game. He stayed up late, defeating all the cpus until he couldn’t level them up anymore. He was getting pretty good - good enough for Cyborg, he’d just have to see. He flopped onto the bed, letting the controller fall from his hand. 

Even though he fought crime with them every day, it was easy for Virgil to forget his powers sometimes. There were little things about it that were just unobtrusive enough not to notice - like the slight charge he’d pick up when in contact with electronics for too long. Not only did it drain his battery life, it made him a little sparky. Considering he had just played xbox for 3 hours, it would’ve done him well to remember that. 

He shuffled up to the pillows on his bed, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. The lights were off, he was in his PJs, only one thing was missing - Pluto. Even heroes needed a good cuddle buddy. He scooped up the plush dog and - its button eyes came flying off! His hands must’ve been so charged he attracted them! He was so startled he jerked his hand away, hard - pulling an arm clean off. 

Call it the late hour, call it the long day - but Virgil felt hot tears well up in his eyes. No no no it’s fine everything’s fine, he tried to tell himself, finding the little lost buttons on the floor, it’s just the only thing you have from mom. He really shouldn’t have stayed up late, he always got weird when he stayed up late. He felt so sensitive, so vulnerable. He really, really wanted his mom. His thoughts came at him fast and it was all so overwhelming.

“Virgil?” Green Lantern, great. “You better not be up playing those games, lights out was an hour ago-”

Virgil choked on his tears, trying to stifle any sound. He prayed Mr. Stewart couldn’t see him in the low light- 

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” - no such luck. Stupid green lantern powers. John came around to the edge of the bed, kneeling to try and meet Virgil’s eye. Virgil curled away, to find John’s hand on his back.

“What happened, kid?”

Virgil tried to take some breaths and speak, but all sound got caught in his throat. It made him feel even worse, shrinking into himself in embarrassment, holding Pluto tight to his chest. You’re gonna cry to Green Lantern about a doll? Some hero you are. GL sat down next to Virgil, examining him - and his eye caught the little toy dog. 

“Hey, who’s this? Is this what’s got you worked up?”

Virgil unfurled a little, looking at the eyeless puppy and nodding.

“His name’s Pluto. I… I got him from my mom. And now I ruined him.” He couldn’t help another wave of tears from rolling down his cheeks. John's face softened.

“Hey, hey I get it. If something I got from my dad got messed up I’d be upset too,” He looked down at Virgil, who rubbed his tears away, “and you didn’t ruin anything. It’s gonna be okay.”

GL patted Virgil’s shoulder as he calmed down a notch.

“Let’s take Pluto here down to the infirmary, see what J’onn can do about it.”

Virgil looked up at John with a quizzical brow.

“Bother Martian Manhunter in the middle of the night? About a doll? No way,” he huffed, looking down at Pluto, “... what could he do about it anyway?”

“You’d be surprised Static, I think he’s just the right martian for the job,” With a smile, John got up and offered Virgil his hand.

Down in the infirmary, J’onn was up as usual. He fiddled with various charts for each leaguer, cataloged injuries and the like. Virgil felt sheepish in the doorway, even with GL beside him. He was still sniffling, tipping the martian up to their presence.

“Hey J’onn. I’ve got a special patient for you,” John looked down at Virgil and nodded toward the alien.

“Oh,” his voice was shockingly warm, “is something wrong, little one?” 

Oh wow, Virgil thought. He expected the martian to be terrifying but something about his voice was profoundly calming. Virgil still felt shy though, looking at his socked feet as he presented the doll and it’s torn pieces to J’onn. 

“Oh dear,” J’onn cooed in sympathy as he gently took the toy, “Your toy got torn.” Virgil nodded, still not meeting his eye in shame. The martian placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I have just the thing. Come with me.”

The two followed J’onn to his desk, where he crouched down to look through one of the drawers. In it was fabric, yarn, and various sewing supplies. Virgil was profoundly confused, watching the martian lay his stuffie gently on the table like a patient in a bed. 

“Here, take this while I’m working. To keep you company.”

Virgil examined what J’onn had given him - a hand sewn… rabbit? Well, not really a rabbit. It had too many eyes? And legs? Maybe they were ears…

“It’s a J’a’khal. They were common creatures on Mars - my own child simply adored them.”

“It’s adorable! You made this?”

J’onn smiled.

“Martians don’t need as much sleep as other species. I have a surprising amount of free time. I have plenty of little pets to choose from, if you'd like to look through them."

J'onn opened another drawer to unveil numerous plushies of other worldly animals. Virgil smiled wide, bouncing over to paw through them.

"I'm glad you like them, little one," J'onn chuckled, "You may take as many as you like."

Virgil huffed from his seat on the floor.

"Hey, I'm not so little."

"Oh?" J'onn paused and smiled, "A mere oversight. You see, Martian lifespans are hundreds of years longer than earthlings. We mature more slowly." J'onn took one of the small plushies from his desk, giving it to Virgil.

"You're little more than a baby to me."

Virgil felt himself flush. He didn't like to think about it, but there was a certain joy he got from being thought of as young. As a hero for one, but even in regular life. He knew he was growing up, but he wanted to be a kid a little longer.

"Anything else I can get you, kid?" John asked, "You look like you're good with Mr. J'onn for now."

Virgil nodded from underneath the litter of stuffies. John smiled.

"I'll be back in a bit to check on you. Hey J'onn, chocos?"

J'onn lit up, "Always." Virgil lit up too. "Bring some for the boy as well, please. "

J'onn got to work on repairing the torn stuffie, sewing and handling it with great care. Virgil watched in awe as he put the button eyes back in place, sewed up the arm, and even put some new beads and fluff in. When he was done Pluto was as good as new. Virgil reached out his arms for the doll, difficult considering how many he was already carrying, and squeezed the lovey tight with a big smile.

“He’s even better than new! Thank you Mr.J’onn!”

    While Virgil was snuggling Pluto, John returned. His eyes were tired but happy to see the boy smiling again. He placed a box of cookies in front of J’onn, accompanied by some glasses of milk. Virgil’s eyes lit up.

“Are these for me Mr.Stewart?” Virgil picked up one of the three glasses.

“Yep. Little midnight snack. Go crazy, kid.”

    J’onn and John chatted and ate while Virgil laid against the desk, feeling his adrenaline cease and sleep start to creep in. He tuned out the miscellaneous chatter from the adults, covering himself with various plushies, Pluto with a special place in his arms. He used one as a pillow, dozing off. He woke up the next morning in his bed, a few of the dolls tucked in with him. Let it never be said the Justice League didn’t have a soft spot.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Try Something New

Prompt: eee i know it JUST came out so don’t feel pressured but i looooved that new dad-janus, remus and prinxiety fic and was wondering if you would be up to writing some of the good ol “awkward dinner with boyfriends family”? make it as angsty or fluffy as you’d like, we’ll love it regardless and i love the dynamic of these boys so seeing more of it would be a dream come true - melonn-yy

hey idk if ur taking prompts but if u sre, could i pls request maybe like a fic about the hs! prinxiety from ‘try your best (that’s all we can do)’ like maybe how they got together or their first date? idk im reslly starved for some good highschool prinxiety rn adodwjed - cryingrainbowsandrocksongs

Read on Ao3

Warnings: past bullying

Pairings: prinxiety

Word Count: 3660

Virgil walks into the living room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and Janus immediately puts down his book. 

“Virgil? Is everything alright?”

Remus glances up from his phone and pulls out an earbud. “Bro? What happened?”

“I don’t know if it’s better or worse that you guys know my anxiety tells or not.”

“It’s better, trust me.”

Janus puts a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “Virgil, did you want to tell us something?”

“Uh, kind of? I, um, I wanted to ask something. But if you guys are busy—“

“Nope.” Remus sits up straighter and shoves his phone into his pocket. “I’m free.”

“Go ahead, Virgil, we’re listening.”

“Okay, ‘cause it’s…” He fidgets. “It’s about Roman.”

The hand on Remus’s shoulder strokes the material of his hoodie as he tenses, slowly relaxing again when Janus doesn’t let go. “Okay, what about Roman?”

“He, um...he wants to come over for dinner.”

“Tonight?” Remus bolts away from Janus’s hand. “Like, right now?”

“What? No, god no.”

“Good.”

“When,” Janus asks, trying to steer the conversation toward its actual ending, “when does he want to come over?”

“He said that, uh, up to us.”

Remus snorts, sinking into the couch. “Can it be never?”

He mumbles an apology when Virgil flinches and Janus says his name in a low voice. 

“…but why?”

Virgil lets out a deep breath. “He wants…he wants to try and make things easier.”

“Easier? Since when has that asshole ever tried to make shit easier?”

“Remus, he’s trying.”

“Well, maybe I don’t fucking want him to try,” Remus growls, shrinking in on himself and huffing into his knees, “maybe I just want to hate him for the rest of my life.”

Janus raises a hand at Virgil and shakes his head. Virgil closes his mouth as Janus reaches out to rub Remus’s shoulder again. Remus continues to glare for a few seconds before looking up at him. 

“I don’t like him,” he mumbles, sounding several years younger, “I don’t like him, Dad.”

“I know, little anomaly,” Janus murmurs, “I know you don’t. But Virgil’s right, he’s trying. And you remember the conversations we’ve had, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It takes a lot of energy to hate someone, you know that. I’m not saying you have to forgive him. I’m not saying you have to like him. I’m not sure I like him—“

“Hey,” Virgil protests. 

“—but we’re just going to try, okay?” He tilts Remus’s chin up when he looks away. “Can we try, little anomaly?”

Remus’s lower lip quivers for a moment, then he looks at Virgil. “So when is he coming over?”

Virgil winces. “Well, actually…”

“Virgil, if you made evening plans again,” Janus starts. 

“…he wants to talk to Remus at school first.”

Both of them pause. Remus snarls, “he wants to what?”

“He wants to apologize to you.” Virgil toys with the string on his hoodie. “Before he comes over, he wants to talk to you first.”

“And why isn’t he telling me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t think you’d be able to get past saying hello to each other without one of you screaming something at the other one.”

Remus’s silence tells Janus all he needs to know about how accurate that statement is. “Alright, then. You two will talk at school and decide how comfortable you are with the idea of Roman coming over for dinner, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Works for me.”

“Remus?”

Remus picks at the frayed hole in his pants, pulling a thread loose until Janus prompts him again. “Yeah, sure, fine. Whatever.”

“Thanks, Remus,” Virgil mumbles, “it, um, it really means a lot to me that you’re willing to try.”

“I’m not doing this for him,” Remus growls, “I’m going this ‘cause you’re my baby brother and I still technically owe you from Saturday.”

“Wait, what happened Saturday?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad.”

——————

Janus gets a text from Virgil that just says it’s happening. Will text when we’re on the way home. 

Ah. So. The fated apology conversation. 

Janus sits at the counter and makes sure the kettle is set to boil, absentmindedly picking at the tablecloth. There’s a bit of wax that dripped onto it from when he and the boys were trying that new candle-making thing that Remus suggested and he’s never quite figured out how to clean it. The internet claimed boiling water was a fix for any wax malfunctions but he stopped trusting that after the washing machine decided it had enough of Remus’s internet solutions. 

Where are they talking? In the schoolyard? He hopes not, security has a prejudice against arguments happening between certain students in the schoolyard, that’s the last thing his boys need right now. Maybe it’s in a classroom, some teacher kind enough to lend them the space. 

He really should just buy a new tablecloth, shouldn’t he? This one still has paint and crayon stains from when the boys were little little. 

He hopes they are actually talking. Remus has every right to be upset and it is not his responsibility to accept Roman’s apology. Hell, he’s not sure he would accept an apology even now as an adult, let alone if he were still in high school. 

But poor Virgil, who just looked so confused about everything…he doesn’t deserve that either. 

And he truly does want to give Roman the benefit of the doubt—children are so moldable when they’re young and the last thing he wants to do is discourage personal growth, especially when it’s had—apparently—such a positive turn. 

He stands abruptly when he realizes he’s more likely to pick a hole through the tablecloth than he is to get the wax out of it. He has to do something with his hands. Something that isn’t just letting them wander. 

Dishes. There are dishes to clean, aren’t there?

He heads to the sink, reaching for the thick rubber gloves on instinct, pausing when he sees a completely empty sink. 

Oh, boys, why is it the one time that you can do your chores when I ask you to is when I secretly needed you not to?

No matter. He’s sure he can find something else. But nothing too obvious, he can’t be seen stress-cleaning, that’s just the worst. 

Alright. No, this is fine. He can find something else to do. Dinner, he can get started on dinner. Yes, Remus had asked for a pasta bake, that will take a while to make. He can do that. He goes to the fridge and gets out the cheese. 

He really hopes they aren’t fighting. 

High schoolers are not the most emotionally competent of humans by a long shot. And all the emotions that must be running around the three of them are making him winded just by thinking about it. Maybe Virgil’s trying to make sure they have the conversation somewhere they can all leave afterwards, instead of having it at one of their houses or in a car. That way when it’s over everyone can come home and just…not have to deal with it. 

Oh, he hopes his boys remember that high school partners are not the be-all, end-all of relationships. 

They should, they spent about half an hour last night absolutely tearing The Notebook to shreds after being forced to watch it at a friend’s house.

Janus smiles into the sink as he sets the water to boil. It had been oddly refreshing, coming into the room worried at the raised voices only for his boys to turn to him and say dad, isn’t this movie really stupid, this is not how healthy relationships work, why is this supposed to be the pinnacle of romance?

Oh, yes, that had been very satisfying. 

Now, if only they can apply the same sort of observation to their own relationships…

He really hopes they don’t get into a fight. He can’t decide which is worse; Roman saying or doing something that hurts Remus and Virgil trying to defend him, or Roman hurting the both of them by bullying Remus and breaking Virgil’s heart. 

Of course, he can’t pretend he’s being unbiased here, those are his boys that are with Roman right now, of course he’s going to prioritize them. 

A movie night, maybe? Something else for them to make fun of? Or a game night, spend time with each other and remind them that romantic relationships aren’t the only meaningful ones. Or maybe it’ll be spent in his bed again, his boys cuddled safely to his sides as he reads them a story they all pretend they’re too old for. 

He strains the pasta with a little too much vigor. 

God, he hopes his boys are okay. 

When the pasta bake is in the oven and he’s just on the verge of checking his phone again, he hears steps at the front door and muffled voices. 

He looks up as the door opens and tries not to smile too obviously in relief when both of them step through, their faces not tear-stained or red with anger. Virgil looks up and sees him first. 

“Hey.”

“Hi, boys.”

Remus kicks off his shoes and dumps his bag on the chair, striding over and flinging his arms around Janus’s waist. Janus hugs him back immediately, hands doing the checks of his breathing, where his hands are, and anything else that might present the signs of an attack. When he finds none, he gently squeezes Remus’s shoulder. 

“Little anomaly,” he murmurs, “you okay?”

“Mhm. Just tired.”

“You tired? Okay, that’s okay, honey.” He glances up at Virgil. “How’d it go?”

Virgil shrugs. “I think it went good but I, uh, did not get very emotionally invested.”

“Bullshit,” Remus says, muffled from where his face is buried in Janus’s chest, “you walked into that room like you were gonna have to stake your life on agreeing with one of us.”

Virgil shuffles guiltily. “But like…I did.”

“Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, fine, I was worried, okay?”

“As is your right,” Janus says, opening his arm to gather his other grumbly boy to his chest, “but you don’t have to pretend like you’re okay if you’re not, sweetie.”

“And no Pain Olympics,” Remus says, poking Virgil in the side to make him squeak, “you were upset, I was upset, we’re good.”

Janus savors the extra moment of having both his boys home safe, not crying, in his arms, before he pats their shoulders and they move away. He turns to pull on the oven mitts. “So, how’d it go?”

Virgil glances at Remus. Remus shrugs. “Fine.”

“I’m gonna need a little more than that.”

“I mean, you kinda called it. He apologized for being the world’s biggest dick, said he was working on himself to try and be better, and that I didn’t owe him anything, including my forgiveness.”

Janus blinks. This is…well, he’d hoped that’s what this would be, but it is surprisingly mature for the bully he remembers. 

“And he, uh…” Remus tugs on his collar. “He said you didn’t have to forgive him either.”

“He did?” 

“Yep. That was, uh, one of the things he led with.”

“Hm.”

“He also said that he wanted to start over,” Virgil adds when Remus seems to be finished, “that he really, um…that he really like being with—with me and he knows how much you both mean to me and so he, uh, wanted to get it right.”

Smiling fondly at how flustered Virgil got from just saying that, Janus turns and ruffles his hair. “Sounds like you might be a positive influence on him, hm?”

“I can’t take credit for—“

“Oh, I know, sweetie, I’m just teasing.” The timer beeps and he pulls out the dish. “Get your plates, boys.”

They obediently fetch their dishes and make their way to the table, conversation steering to more pleasant topics as they polish off their pasta. The evening passes with full bellies and happy faces until it’s time to turn in for the night. 

Janus catches Virgil as he disappears into his room. 

“Hey, sweetie,” he says, pulling him into a hug, “I’m really proud of you, you know that?”

“You—you are?”

“Yeah, sweetie. You’re doing really good at navigating something that’s difficult for most adults to do. You’ve been very mature about it and I hope you know that I’m here to support you whenever you need it.”

“Jeez, dad…”

He presses a quick kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah, same to you.” Virgil squeezes him back before vanishing, muttering about sappy shit and just want this to be over. 

Janus shakes his head and goes to find Remus. 

“Hey,” he murmurs when he knocks on Remus’s door and gets greeted with a quiet grunt, “you doing okay, little anomaly?”

Remus looks up from where he’s curled into a ball near his headboard. He holds his arms out wordlessly and Janus sits on the edge of the bed, letting the little limpet attach himself to his side. 

“What’s going on, honey,” he asks, rubbing his back, “you wanna tell me?”

“That stuff…all that stuff with Roman, in middle school,” Remus mumbles, “that…that happened, right? You remember it too?”

“Yes, honey, I do. I remember him bullying you.” When Remus sags in relief, he pulls back to cup his face. “Are you worried that you’re gonna feel weird about it if Roman keeps changing?”

Remus nods shamefully. “He—he really feels different. L-like he’s someone brand new that just remembers what he did, not like he—he did it. An’ I’m scared that if he—if he—what if I just forget?”

“You can’t forget being hurt like that, Remus, nor can you just magically stop hurting now that the person isn’t hurting you anymore.” Janus runs a hand through his hair. “You’re allowed to feel hurt, to be hurt, it’s okay.”

“But if he’s changed—“

“No buts, honey. He doesn’t get to decide you aren’t hurt anymore because of what he did and neither do you. Those things were real, they happened, and just because Roman’s changed doesn’t mean they didn’t. You are still allowed to feel hurt and upset about it, okay?”

Remus’s lip wobbles. “I almost wish he was still being mean.”

Janus takes a deep breath and pulls him in for a proper hug. “Oh, honey, don’t you say that. Don’t say that, honey.”

“But it’s true, if—if he were still being mean then it wouldn’t be messy and Virgil wouldn’t be dating him and I—and I wouldn’t—“

“Shh, shh, honey, it’s okay. I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He closes his eyes as his little anomaly sobs into his chest. “Hey, honey, I’m right here. Shh, I’ve got you.”

He rubs Remus’s back as he cries, pressing kisses to the top of his head. As they slow, he pulls back just enough to wipe Remus’s cheeks. 

“Have you talked to Virgil about this?” Remus nods. “What did he say?”

“S-said if it ever got real bad that he’d—he’d choose me. B-but I don’t want him to have to choose, I just���jus’ wish it wasn’t Roman.”

“I know, honey, I know.” 

“…I don’t actually wish he was still being mean.” He sniffles as Janus ruffles his hair. “I just…why is this so hard?”

“Because life is hard,” Janus says, not unkindly, “life is hard and people are complicated and every single relationship you have with anyone that matters to you, no matter what it is, is work.”

“That’s stupid.”

Janus huffs. “Yeah, honey, I think so too.”

“…will you stay for a bit?”

“As long as you need, honey.”

——————

So. Tonight’s the big night. Tonight, Roman Prince comes over for dinner. 

Apparently, Roman wants to help make dinner. Well. Fine by him. He can loom menacingly in the corner while Roman cooks. 

Alright, what he’s going to do is let Roman help and insinuate that if Roman dares hurt one of his boys again he won’t like the consequences. 

Roman’s driving the three of them home from school today, which means they should arrive right about…

Muffled voices outside and a key in the lock. 

“Dad? We’re home!”

“Do you need help?”

“No, thanks, I got it.”

Janus turns to see Remus shrugging off his bag, Virgil hanging his coat on a hook, and Roman carrying a large covered dish. He makes his way out from the kitchen, gathering Remus in for a quick emotional support hug as Roman looks up. 

“Sir,” he says, holding out his hand, “thank you for letting me come over.”

Firm handshake, good eye contact. He nods to the dish. “And what do you have there?”

“Virgil and Remus said you were planning on lasagna for dinner, so—“ he holds up the dish— “I made garlic bread.”

He can feel Remus perk up behind him. Garlic bread, hm? “Does it need to be heated?”

“Maybe a bit? I picked it up right before we came here and it’s been in the oven for a while…it should be fine, we might want to heat it before we eat if…if you want.”

He hums and takes the dish, setting it on the counter. “And you’re helping me with the main course as well?”

“Yes, sir, if you need an extra pair of hands.”

“That would do nicely, yes.”

Remus fake gags as Roman kisses Virgil’s cheek before following Janus to the kitchen. He washes his hands quickly in the sink and looks up.

“You can wash the lettuce for the salad.”

“This one?”

“That’s right.”

He keeps an eye on his boys as they finish tidying away their school things, noticing how Remus disappears to his room almost immediately and Virgil hovers in the living room. Close enough to see, not quite close enough to hear. 

“That’s good. Chop the others while you’re over there.”

“Chunks or slices? Size preference?”

“…slice the peppers, chunks for the cucumber.”

“Can do.”

He glances over to see an almost restaurant-quality salad taking shape in the bowl next to Roman. Good on you, Virgil, finding a boy that can cook. 

After a few more minutes, Virgil gets up to use the bathroom and Roman pauses, glancing over until he hears the door shut before wiping his hands nervously on his jeans and turning to face Janus. 

“Sir,” he starts, “I…I’m not sure what your sons have told you of our conversation a few days ago, but I wanted to apologize to you as well.”

Janus stays quiet, only raising an eyebrow. 

“I was…truly terrible to Remus when we were younger and I will not use my age as an excuse. I’ve told your son that he is not obligated to forgive me and neither are you. I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused your family and I hope I can convince you I mean neither of them any harm.”

Janus stares at him for a long moment. “Something happened to you.”

“S-sir?”

“Something happened to you,” he repeats, not unkindly, “to make you go from the reason one of my sons came home crying to the reason the other comes home smiling.”

“…do you want me to tell you, sir?”

He tilts his head, looking at the boy in front of him. Because despite how he holds himself, how much he’s clearly practiced what he’s saying, how much he’s trying to show that he’s grown and matured, Janus is standing in front of a child who is clearly unsure about what he’s doing and freaking out. 

He reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. “Do you intend to hurt Remus?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you intend to hurt Virgil?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I don’t need you to tell me. As long as you understand that if you do—“

“They’ll never find my body, sir, I understand. Might I suggest burying a dead dog on top of me, so the cadaver dogs will be convinced that’s what they’ve found?”

Janus smiles grimly. “Good boy.”

“Is there anything else that goes into the salad?”

“What are your thoughts on dressing?”

“Most people prefer it when outside the comfort of their own private bedrooms, sir.”

When Virgil walks back in to see Janus laughing at something Roman said, he glances between them until Remus comes downstairs. 

“What?”

“Roman made Dad laugh,” Virgil hisses like Janus can’t hear him, “like—actually laugh.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I swear to God!”

“Since when are you religious?”

“Boys,” Janus calls, “why don’t you set the table?”

They grumble amongst themselves as they do as they’re told, carefully making sure all the dishes can fit as Roman helps carry over everything. Virgil tugs his sleeve until he sits next to him, lacing their fingers together and squeezing once before letting go. 

“It smells really good, guys.”

Remus eyes Roman carefully. “So you made the garlic bread, huh?”

“Mhm. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

Remus takes a piece and bites into it, chewing thoughtfully. He isn’t quick enough to hide the way his eyes widen as he looks away. 

“…I think to spare everyone else from having to eat it you should give it all to me.”

“Whoa, hey,” Virgil says, “don’t you dare!”

Janus chuckles as his boys squabble playfully over the garlic bread, sneaking a piece when they’re distracted. Roman watches, bewildered relief written all over his face. 

Oh, yes, this might work out just fine. 

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[kirk-says-wah]

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐲 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐𝟑

You can also read it here

Pairings: Kirk/Lars, James/Lars, James/Jason

TW: guns, violence, blood, fire

“I don’t think going to Dave is a great idea,” Kirk says, frowning as he looks down at James.

James shrugs a little, thinking back to Kirk’s hand around his wrist. He wishes for the contact. No one’s touched him properly since Lars. Lars is the only one to have ever touched him with a gentle tenderness that makes his heart pull. Even Jason was a little too laid back and aloof to ever treat James like he was fragile. But James doesn’t expect it, he’s spent his whole life looking after himself. It’s just nice to feel loved sometimes, however brief.

“It’s the only idea we’ve got.”

Kirk sighs through his nose, bending to perch on the coffee table opposite James, careful of the photos still laid over it, his knee brushing against James’.

James still can’t get his head around the idea of Jason shooting Lars. Why would he do that to him? Was he jealous?

“Okay well, I think we should be a bit prepared,” Kirk says, interrupting James’ thoughts. “We can’t let him scare us.”

“Oh yeah okay. Sure,” James drawls sarcastically. “We’ll just waltz in there and demand Jason back.”

Kirk rolls his eyes, shakes his head.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“The first time I met him I nearly shit myself, Kirk. He cut off Lars’ finger!” James cries, bundling his hands into fists on his thighs. “You can’t just be so nonchalant about it. You’ve never even met the guy.”

“No but Cliff always warned me about Dave,” Kirk replies curly, a deep frown settled on his face. “He said not to underestimate him.”

“Which is exactly what you’re doing now,” James points out, but Kirk just lets out an exaggerated huff.

“Jesus, James will you just shut the fuck up,” Kirk spits, hands moving about. “I’m not saying we go in there guns blazing. I’m saying we just try and look confident. I don’t want him to beat on us, especially you.”

James’ eyes narrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re not exactly up to defending yourself right now,” Kirk says, gesturing at James. “Your ribs are still broken. And besides, you’re too emotional.”

James scoffs, grits his teeth.

“Fuck you.”

“James-“

“No, how come you’re not?” James shoots, because yeah, how can he be so upset when Kirk should be too. All he can think about is Lars. How he might be dying. How he’s not there with him. What happens if he never sees him again? “How are you so calm when your boyfriend is dying?”

“No don’t make this about me, James,” Kirk growls, voice low. “Of course I’m upset. Lars is the love of my life. And I don’t want to think about a time where I don’t have him here. If he dies, you’ll lose a husband, and I’ll lose everything, so don’t for a minute think he means more to you than me.”

Kirk’s voice rings in James’ ears, and he shrinks, the affirmation that he can never possibly mean as much to Lars as Kirk does making him feel foolish and empty. He wants to believe he and Lars have something, wants to believe they would’ve made a good life together, that they would’ve loved each other, but James can’t help but think maybe Lars would be better off with Kirk.

He decides to change the subject, the tops of his ears burning.

“Why did Cliff warn you about Dave?” he says, the question brewing in his mind.

“He said Torben probably still works for Dave and try not to cross paths with him.”

James cocks his head. Torben works for Dave? He knew he owed Dave money, but he guesses that would explain how they’re linked.

“Why would he think that?” he says.

“Well, Cliff doesn’t exactly have a high opinion of Torben,” Kirk says matter of factly.

“No one seems to,” James laughs quietly. Everyone he’s met has seemed to have opinions on Torben. And he can’t really blame them. Not after finding out Torben sent Lars to work on the streets and got him shot when he was so young. James doesn’t exactly think his own father if father of the year, but never has Virgil put him in danger like that.

“Dave’s going to have questions,” he says, looking to Kirk now.

“About what?” Kirk asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“About Cliff.”

“But how does Dave know Cliff’s involved?”

James pauses. Oh shit. He’d blurted it out at the hospital.

“I told him,” he says after a moment, watching as Kirk’s face flits through a variety of emotions.

“You what?”

“It just slipped out,” James tries to justify, eyes flicking down to the floor.

“James, you can’t just-“ Kirk stops himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re so fucking frustrating.”

James decides to ignore that. He doesn’t want to apologise. It’s not really his mess at all. Kirk’s the one who knows Cliff. And he’s the one who found the picture.

“How do we even know where Dave is? He’s probably not at the restaurant,” Kirk says after a pause, the distress leaving his voice now.

“I know where he lives,” James says. “Or at least where one of his houses are.”

“How do you know?” Kirk asks, eyebrows shooting into his hairline.

James shrugs slightly.

“Sometimes, when me and Jason wanted to meet up, I would wait around the corner in the car for him to sneak out.”

“So what? We just go to his house and hope he’s in?”

“Well yeah,” James says.

“And what if he shoots us for turning up unannounced?” Kirk replies, his fingers fiddling together.

“He won’t,” James says, more confidently than he feels.

“Why not?”

“Because he would’ve done it already,” James says. Dave’s had plenty of opportunities to kill them, and yet he hasn’t. Theres no way he’d just kill them over something so petty.

Kirk scrubs a hand over his face, blowing out a long breath.

“Okay. We’ll go in a minute. I want to call Cliff first,” he says, standing up.

“What?” James asks, following Kirk’s movements. “Why would you wanna do that?”

“Because, if things go south, then Cliff will know where we were,” Kirk says, before heading into the kitchen to use the phone.

Well, he guesses that makes sense. Though he’s not sure what Cliff will do. Will he even be on their side, or will he support Dave? Although the picture was taken a long time ago, maybe they still see each other?

He stands, remembering something, and pulls a small handgun out of the drawer under the tv. He doesn’t know why it’s taken him so long to remember, and he wonders why he didn’t take it with him when they first met Dave. Why hadn’t it been his first thought? He’s had it there for a long time, he’s just never had to use it. He pushes it into his back pocket with a sigh.

James’ eyes land on the pictures still on the coffee table. He grabs them all apart from the one of Lars, stacking them together before putting them in his pocket. His eyes rake over the picture of Lars and he wonders if he should ask his father about it. Would he even give him answers, or will he just be reprimanded for delving into the past?

Before he can think about it too much, Kirk comes back in, grabbing his jacket.

“You ready?” he says, cocking his head towards the door.

James takes a deep breath before following Kirk out.

— —

Dave’s house is big. The biggest one of the street. With a long driveway and a lawn on either side.

James parks a few houses away, shutting off the engine as he takes in the sight of Dave’s house.

He’s so fucking nervous, even his teeth are starting to shake. But he knows he has to do this. He needs to know about Jason.

“You okay?” Kirk asks, though James knows he’s not really asking. He just wants to make sure James isn’t backing out of it.

“Yeah,” James nods. He’s reminded that he needs to try and be confident, even if it’s feigned. He can’t let Dave walk all over him. He can’t let Dave kill them.

They get out of the car in silence, walking up the long driveway as gravel crunches under their feet, and James just wants to turn around and run. This doesn’t feel right.

Before they can even get to the front door, the door opens, and a large man with long black hair opens the door. His biceps are nearly the size of James’ head, and James swallows nervously, especially when he catches sight of the gun wedged in the front of the man’s jeans.

“Who are you?” the man asks, studying them closely.

“We’re here to see Dave,” James says, trying to hold his head high.

“Mr Mustaine isn’t expecting visitors,” the man replies, hand moving down towards his gun. “He doesn’t take too kindly to strangers.”

“No wait,” James cries, panicked. “I’m James. Hetfield. Dave knows who I am.”

That makes the man pause, and he arches an eyebrow.

“Hetfield?”

James nods, wishing he didn’t feel so vulnerable.

It takes a moment, but finally the man opens the door all the way before beckoning them inside.

They follow in silence, and James takes in the sight of Dave’s house. It’s pretty lavish, with a chandelier in the hallway and panelled walls. It’s a lot like his father’s home.

They finally stop outside a door, mahogany with a gold encrusted handle, and the man knock on it roughly before letting out a sharp “stay here.”

He quietly slips behind the door, and James rocks on his heels, finally looks down at Kirk.

Kirk’s chewing at his lip, his hand messing with his tshirt.

James turns his attention to the walls, sees photos of Dave and his wife. They look happy. He wonders if she ever knew about Dave and Cliff.

The door opens again, and the man appears.

“He’s waiting inside,” he says before shooing them into the room.

It’s an office, with a desk and some soft chairs, as well as a full length liquor cabinet, and there, stood, is Mustaine. He’s wearing a white shirt, tucked neatly into his trousers with suspenders pulled over his shoulders and a tie around his neck. His tamed red hair sits elegantly across his shoulders, his beard trimmed neatly.

The walls are covered in framed music discs and guns, and a large picture of his wife stands opposite his desk.

“Hello James,” Dave says, his voice smooth as he gestures towards the chairs opposite the desk, his expression smug but unsurprised.

James doesn’t look at Kirk, doesn’t want to give away how frightened he is, how easily he might break, and instead sits down on one of the chairs, fingers clasping together, glad of the safety of the gun in his pocket.

Dave watches them both for a minute with an intense stare before turning to the cabinet in the corner. James catches sight of the gun tucked in his back pocket and he feels suddenly light headed.

“Drink, anyone?” Dave asks, fishing a bottle of whiskey out of the cupboard. This reminds James of the time at the restaurant and it makes him feels queasy. He shakes his head, but then a small voice pipes up.

“Yes please.”

James snaps his head to Kirk, surprised at Kirk for being so ballsy, before he looks up at Dave. Dave’s eyebrows are raised, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“You must be Kirk,” he says, getting two glasses out before turning his back to pour the drinks.

James uses the opportunity to kick at Kirk’s leg, and Kirk scowls, mouthing a what at James, but James just glares. They’re meant to be confident not cocky.

Dave turns, hands a small glass to Kirk before settling in his own seat opposite them, pulling out his gun to rest it on the table.

“So,” Dave begins, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he looks between the two of them before his eyes land on James. “I’m guessing you don’t want to listen to my last warning, James. You know the one where I told you if you don’t stay out of this, you’re dead?”

James stays silent. He remembers alright, it was when Dave had cut off Lars’ finger. But Dave’s right, they didn’t listen to him.

When James doesn’t say anything, Dave takes a sip of his drink coolly.

“You’ve got some guts coming here, I’ll give you that.”

James swallows. He needs to be confident.

“Where’s Jason?” he says, if not a little shaky.

Dave stares at him, expression unreadable, and James feels frustration mount.

“Tell me goddamnit,” he cries, hands balling into fists.

Dave leans back in his chair.

“No.”

James blinks.

“What?”

“No,” Dave repeats, his voice calm and final, but it just makes James even angrier.

“So help me I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” Dave cuts him off, eyebrows raised. “You might want to be careful how you finish that sentence.”

That shuts James up, and he shrinks, feeling Kirk’s eyes on him too.

“I’m not gonna sit here and bow down to your demands,” Dave continues, clearing his throat. “I’m a man of business, and I make deals.”

“So?” Kirk asks, maybe a little too forcefully.

“So,” Dave says, a little bitter with a pointed look at both of them. “You give me something, and I’ll give you something back.”

“What could you possibly want from us?” James asks, the question circling around in his head.

Dave smiles, holds his finger out.

“You.”

“Me?” Kirk asks, his voice lilting and less confident now. Dave must sense it too, because his smile broadens, and he cocks his head.

“How do you know Cliff?”

“He- he took me in when I was fifteen,” Kirk says. “He’s looked after me ever since.”

Dave’s expression drops into that of confusion, and he places his glass down on the table.

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” Kirk says, voice sounding small. “I told him at first to leave me alone but he was insistent.”

“And you still speak to him?” Dave asks.

“Yeah.”

“What about?”

“Well-“ Kirk stops himself, wringing his hands, eyes flicking to the floor. Surely he won’t tell Dave about the picture.

“Go on,” Dave urges. “Don’t make me beat it out of you.”

“He wanted information,” Kirk says, though he’s beginning to tremble now, cheeks reddening. James watches him, hoping to god he doesn’t spill the secret. It was Kirk who said to go in confident, and yet he’s the one who’s cracking under the pressure.

“Information?” Dave asks, “About what?”

“Lars,” Kirk says, hand shaking around the glass in his hand. “And Torben.”

“And what did you find?” Dave asks, obviously curious.

“Nothing. That’s the problem,” Kirk says, though his demeanour literally radiates deceit, and James just wants to tell him to calm the fuck down but he doesn’t want Dave to see.

Dave leans forwards, hands on the desk, eyes narrowed.

“You sure about that?”

“I-“ Kirk cuts himself off, eyes wide, his whole body trembling.

Dave laughs at him, his perfect teeth brimming over pink lips.

“Not so confident now, are you?” he taunts, and Kirk goes pink, eyes flicking to the floor.

“No, no,” Dave tuts, jabbing his fingers at Kirk’s face. “Eyes on me. What the fuck did you find out?”

Kirk looks at Dave and mumbles something but even James can’t hear what it is.

“Speak up,” Dave demands, his voice harsher now, and Kirk shakes so hard he drops the glass. James wishes they could find a way to get out of this. He doesn’t like this one bit.

“It was a photo,” Kirk says, and James can feel all the blood drain from his body.

“Kirk-“ he hisses, but Dave slams his palm on the table.

“Shut the fuck up, James.”

James snaps his mouth shut, shame creeping up the back of his neck. He knows this is going to go south.

“And what was it of?” Dave asks, turning back to Kirk.

Kirk is quiet for a moment, and James hopes that Kirk is going to be defiantly silent.

“You and Cliff,” Kirk says, lip shivering. “Kissing.”

Dave’s face goes blank, his cocky grin wiped off his face. He stares at Kirk for a moment, and James watches cautiously as Dave’s hand skate over the gun lying on the table.

“Who have you told?” Dave says after a moment, his voice unnaturally low.

“Just Cliff,” Kirk says, desperate now. And James.”

“Not Lars?”

“No.”

“Good,” Dave says, sitting back in his chair. “I’ll spare him. Now tell me why I shouldn’t kill you?”

“Cliff knows we’re here,” Kirk blurts out, hoping that will deter Dave.

“And?”

“And he won’t be happy,” Kirk says, a little more confident now.

Dave shrugs.

“He’ll get over it.”

James really doesn’t want to die, not like this. Especially without Lars.

He doesn’t take his eyes off Dave, scared that it will just end with a bullet between his eyes.

“How about this? I let you go, you speak about this to no one, and move away. Isn’t that what you and Lars were meant to be doing?” Dave says, gesturing at James.

“Yeah,” James breathes, because he was. He and Lars were meant to be far away from all of this.

“And why haven’t you?”

“Because he loves Kirk,” James says.

“Hmm,” Dave hums, hand curling around the gun before he brings it up swiftly, aiming it directly at Kirk’s head. “Would this help?”

Kirk’s eyes bulge, and James feels panic zap through him.

“No fuck no please we won’t tell anyone,” James cries desperately, holding his hands up. “I just want to know where Jason is.”

Dave’s eyes flick to him but he doesn’t drop the gun.

“I told you to leave him alone.”

“You asked for a deal,” James says, tries to push down all his feelings, ignoring the way his heart threatens to stop. “We gave you our information. You owe us yours.”

Dave’s eyes narrow as they rake over James before finally he sighs, putting the gun back on the table.

“Jason’s not here. I sent him away.”

“Why?”

“Away from you,” Dave says, voice bitter.

“Because he shot Lars?” James asks, though he knows he’s probably pushing it.

Dave’s eyes darken.

“What?”

“He shot Lars, didn’t he?” James says again, because it has to be Jason. He doesn’t know anyone else that would do such a thing.

“And what do you think will happen when Torben finds out?” Dave asks, picking up his glass again. “I won’t risk Jason like that.”

“So it’s true?”

Dave doesn’t answer, just sips at his drink, but that’s an answer within itself. James tries to swallow away the guilt.

“Why would he do that?”

“If I had known Jason was gonna do it, I would’ve stopped him. That boy knows how to shoot to kill, so I’m surprised Lars is still alive,” Dave says, leaning back in his chair. “So what do you want? Money? Will that make you go away?”

James blanches, looks over to Kirk, but Kirk’s eyes are still on the floor.

“We’re just waiting for Lars to get better, then we’ll leave,” James says, tries to sound convincing.

“And why don’t I believe that?” Dave sneers, standing up to full height, towering over them.

James suddenly can’t swallow, throat dry as he watches Dave’s fingers curl around the gun.

“You know, you boys are pretty sloppy,” Dave says, slowly lifting the gun up as he makes his way around the table. “How do you think it makes your father feel to find out you’ve been prying about in his things?” Dave asks, swinging the gun up to gesture at James.

James’ eyes widen. His dad knows they were looking in the box? Did he notice all the missing pictures?

“I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you,” Dave says, “but you keep disappearing off to your little hideout where daddy can’t find you.”

James frowns, finally finding his voice, eyes watching the gun closely. He sits up a little, the gun in his back pocket heavy, and he shifts his arm back.

“But you know where it is. Why didn’t you just tell him?”

“What’s between you and your father isn’t my business,” Dave says, before he cocks the gun, holding it up to aim at James’ head. “But you’re on my territory now, boys. And I don’t like people sticking their noses into other people’s business.”

James can’t speak, and evidently neither can Kirk.

A shot rings out, and he jumps, his ear stinging, and he doesn’t have to reach up to feel blood start to trickle down the side of his face. It can’t be more than a graze, but it’s a warning.

“Whatever deal I had with your father is over,” Dave spits, getting closer. “You won’t leave it alone? Well I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Before James can think, he jumps to his feet, pulling out his gun before aiming it at Dave.

Dave cackles, feigning shock as he puts one hand on his chest.

“You really do have fucking balls,” Dave says, his laughs fading out.

“Just let us go,” James says, keeping his aim firm.

Dave smiles, his long hair brushing at his shoulders, his finger over the trigger.

“What? So you can keep digging up the past? Maybe it’s a good thing Lars got shot.”

“Shut up,” James barks, gripping his feet into his boots as he tries to stand his ground. “We’re just trying to find out who started the fire.”

“I thought Virgil told you it was me,” Dave shoots back, his gun steady.

“I don’t believe him,” James says. “Don’t you want us to clear your name?”

Dave rolls his eyes.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I knew what it would mean getting into this business.”

“But you weren’t expecting my dad to kill your wife?”

Dave’s expression changes, his eyes widen and something akin to hurt flashes over his face, but as quickly as it comes, it’s gone, and he bares his teeth.

“Shut the fuck up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No because no one will fucking tell me anything,” James shouts, his hands shaking around the gun.

“And for good reason,” Dave roars, stepping closer. “This has got nothing to do with you.”

“Then why don’t you just let me find out what happened?” James cries. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Enough!” Dave shouts. “I don’t need a repeat of history. You’re making this worse. One of you is already dying. Can’t you see you’ve made everything worse!”

James leans forwards, roughly pulls Kirk onto his feet, keeping his gun aimed on Dave.

“We’re leaving,” James announces, pushing Kirk toward the door, past Dave.

“And where are you gonna go?” Dave sneers, following his movements. “I know where you live. You can’t hide from me.”

“Fuck you,” James spits, his head pulsing as he keeps his gun high, trying to quell the anxiety that’s settled in his chest. Dave’s right. They have nowhere to go.

“You’re dead, James,” Dave snarls. “If I don’t kill you, one of the others will.”

James tries not to look too affected by that, instead opening the door, pushing Kirk out. He wonders if his dad will protect him, or if he’ll make him meet his fate.

He stares at Dave for a second, before finally backing out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

A gun is quickly shoved under his chin, but he holds his hands up, eyeing the man from before next to him.

“We’re leaving,” he says, putting his gun down.

The man grunts before letting James go, and James’ hand is roughly grabbed before he’s being pulled towards the front door. Something grabs his attention though, and he turns to look, sees a photo of a child, sat between Dave and his wife. He looks familiar.

James stops dead in his tracks, quickly scrambling for the photos in his back pocket. He finds the one of him and Jason as children, and he holds it up.

It’s the same child. The little boy is Jason. And judging by the picture, that would mean… Jason is Dave’s son.

“James,” Kirk hisses, tugging on James’ hand. “We don’t have time for this.”

James lets himself be pulled out, and finally his mind springs back to life. They sprint out of the driveway and towards the car, and every step has James’ ribs shifting, makes breathing a bit too hard, but he ignores it, quickly getting in the car.

He turns the engine on and pulls out, not even bothering with his seat belt.

They catch their breath, both minds reeling after such a dangerous meeting, and it soon dawns on James that he doesn’t know where he’s going.

They can’t go back to the house. Dave will just follow them. And they can’t go to the hospital either. But Mrs Ulrich only has his home phone number. Which means they can’t find out if anything’s happened to Lars.

He feels so overwhelmed, his vision blurry as he drives maybe a little too erratically, his adrenaline still rushing through his veins.

“What are we gonna do?” James asks, quickly glancing at Kirk.

When Kirk doesn’t answer, James slams his palm against the steering wheel.

“Answer me, damnit.”

“I don’t know,” Kirk cries. “I don’t fucking know.”

[writingsoftheghost]

First Dinner Together

(Takes place right after AA)

Virgil didn't know what to do. He'd gone over every possible scenario in his head of how this would go, and they all ended horribly. He really wanted to back out, but he promised Patton he would try to be more involved and present. And Virgil knew this was the easiest way to do that., but the sound of all of them laughing in the kitchen made Virgil more anxious to interrupt than anything else he'd ever experienced in his entire life.

Ok, while that was probably not true, it felt true in the moment. Virgil was just about to accept defeat, resigning himself to eating later after everyone else had gone to bed again, when Logan turned the corner and bumped into Virgil, nearly knocking him over.

"Apologies, Virgil!" Logic said, surprised, "I wasn't expecting to see you down here."

Virgil cringed and began to turn tail, "Sorry I was just-"

But Logan grabbed his arm, "Wait!"

Virgil jerked away at the sudden contact, but halted his escape attempt.

Logan had a sheepish look about him, embarrassed by his reaction, but he wanted to encourage Virgil to stay. "Would you like some spaghetti? Patton made a lot so there's plenty extra?"

Virgil relaxed slightly, an invitation from two out of three of them helped tremendously, he wouldn't hold his breath for Roman, but maybe Princey would tolerate him for a few minutes. "Yeah, sure."

Logan suppressed a sigh of relief, he had pulled it off.

"Virgil!" Patton rushed to give Virgil a hug.

"Easy, Pat." Virgil fights to keep his lungs full of air.

"Sorry, sorry. Just so happy to see you, kiddo. You come for my spaghetti? Best in the Mindscape!" Patton rushes back into the kitchen, "I'll make you a plate! Go sit!"

"Anxiety?" Roman is suddenly staring at Virgil way too much for comfort. "Hm- a-Virgil." He corrects. "You're joining dinner tonight?" He tilts his head with the question.

Virgil feels like shrinking into nothingness, "Uh, yeah, I guess. Unless it's like, not, uh, good? For me to do that I mean-I don't-like-it's okay if that's not-I don't have to..."

Virgil is about to make a second much more urgent escape attempt, when Roman stops him.

"It's alright."

Virgil stares at him for a moment, attempting and failing to read Creativity's thoughts. Was he really sincere?

"Oh, uh, yeah? Alright, cool." Virgil anxiously moves toward the table, he doesn't know which seat to pick, and he absolutely can't handle the idea of sitting in someone else's seat.

Patton quickly comes to his rescue though, setting an almost overflowing plate of spaghetti down on the table. "Here, Virge. Sit by me."

The parental side gives Virgil the warmest smile he's ever seen. Virgil's face heats up at the kindness from the other side. "Thanks, Pat." He takes a seat. Patton sitting down directly next to him with his own plate.

Virgil jumps slightly as Roman sits down on the other side of him.

Roman gives him an awkward slight smile, his eyes land on Virgil's plate, which Patton had piled impossibly high with spaghetti.

"Good god, Pat. That's a mountain!"

Patton smiles sheepishly, "Sorry, Virge. I just wanted to make sure you had plenty to eat."

Virgil chuckles, "Thanks, Patton. I'll be all set for the week."

Logan laughs, "Careful, Virgil, if you manage to eat it all Patton will try to give you seconds."

Patton swats Logan's arm playfully, "Is it a crime to make sure my family is fed?"

Virgil laughs, his heart warming at the implication that he was family. He was easing more and more into the idea, and even beginning to hope that this wouldn't be their last shared meal.

[forest-falcon]

WIP Whatever!

Felt Autumn-y today so rattled this off whilst cooking dinner. Not written in a while so just trying to get something out. Hopefully will add a bit to it soon. 🍁🍂🎃🌿🍃

Pumpkin

"Pumpkins, pumpkins, pumpkins, pumpkins! It's pumpkin picking daaaaay!"

Gordon skidded through the living room, almost knocking over the carpet washer, which had taken up permanent residence there with the turn of the season.

"Where are my octopus wellies?"

He rummaged through the old wooden chest situated near the front door. A myriad of odd shoes piled behind him as he discarded trainer after flipflop belonging to his older brothers.

"You're picking all those up." Virgil appeared, arms folded at the mess.

"Am not! People can put them on their feet, duh." Gordon grinned and donned a pair of John's favourite sandals. These would do. He wasn't one for socks anyway and the octopus wellies had probably seen better days...wherever they were.

"You can't wear those."

Virgil materialised a mug of hot coffee from thin air. Now that he was a teenager, Virgil was all about having his coffee in the morning. Mr. adult-y pants. It was a phase. It would pass. Gordon was sure of it.

"And why not?" He wiggled his toes, knowing full-well why not.

"John will feed you to the combine harvester if you baptise his favourite sandals in mud." Virgil quirked a bemused eyebrow.

"What?...Skinny Space Noodle? He couldn't catch this fish."

John wouldn't even try. John was more tactical than that. He'd simply bat his pretty green eyes at his eldest brother, and mini-mum would find a way to get them back; though it looked like not-mother number two had beaten Scott to it on this occasion.

"I don't know..." Virgil's voice echoed from somewhere within his brew.

"How fast can you run in sandals?

"Faster than Johnny-boy, that's for sure!"

"But not faster than me."

Virgil tipped his head back to noisily slurp the final dregs from his mug. Gordon saw his opportunity to slip the net. Darting under Teenage Mutant Ninja Virgil's arm; he took off at a speed befitting a startled ray.

FLIP-FLOP-FLIP-FLOP-FLIP-FLOP

He wasn't even sure he cared about the sandals per se; it was more the principle of not being bossed about. Virgil was not his mum.

Where to hide, where to hide?

Kitchen? No, dining room! He could barricade himself with the chairs...

FLIP-FLOP-FLIP-FLOP-FLIP-FLOP

...Goodie-two-shoes may be bigger than him, but he'd wager that Mr. Muscle wouldn't fit so easily behind the far side of the table.

FLIP-FLOP-FLIP

He had this. He-

"GOTCHA!"

A mammoth hand clutched his shoulder.

Gordon flailed and kicked, but Virgil had him shrink-wrapped in one of his soppy bro hugs.

"Now give Johnny back his shoes."

"NEVER! Why do you care anyway? They're not even your sandals!"

Virgil leaned back slightly so that his hug lifted the squirming squid clean off the floor.

"Last chance."

"Finders keepers, astro-boy weepers!"

"Alright. Can't say I didn't warn you, pumpkin."

"Pumpkin?"

[soysaucevictim]

Yesterday, I was having a mostly internal "dialogue" about my docket.

I'm just gonna indulgently use the Sides to summarize pieces of my headspace:

Virgil: Another visit to the shrink. Another time to tell the guy 'Hey, I fucked up with my meds and sleep again!' Logan: Staying consistent and compliant does help considerably. Especially to stave off- Virgil: I know! The meds are fine, but it feels like we're getting a bad grade as the client/patient, here. Patton: Didn't the doctor say we're being too hard on ourselves? Virgil, totally glossing that over: Oh, and today's DD is high knees! The thought of being a fucking nuisance to the downstairs neighbors is mortifying. Remus: I mean... if you can find a bathroom you can lock, go for it there! Logan: Hm, make sure the floor isn't wet first. Virgil: What if people wonder things!? Remus: Just say, "Thought the stall was in use and was doing my best to hold it!" Virgil: I don't want to be perceived.

Anyways. Appointment was actually productive and did find a secluded space in the health services campus to do the damn high knees (76 reps), it was fun.

Walking home, I was feeling overall pretty better. (In a very, "human doing their stupid walkies is good for brain" way.) :,D

[itty-bitty-writes]

Bitty's WIPs

(posted stories masterpost)

Surrounded by His Loved One - Chapter 2: Copulation (Shrinky Sanders Sides Smut Series, aka 5S)

summary:

Remus is up Virgil's butt, and Virgil and Logan are heading to Logan's room to… copulate.

status: intro written. vague ideas for what's after that

Prinxiety cock vore [actual title pending] (5S)

summary:

Remus told Roman that Virgil enjoyed their shrinky sex, and now Roman's got a similar proposition for Virgil

(from a prompt)

status: probably half written

LAMP cock vore + sex [actual title pending] (5S)

summary:

Virgil liked Roman in his dick so much that this time he gets to cock vore two boyfriends. And then fuck Patton with them inside.

(from a prompt)

status: outlined

Dark Sides in Balls (5S)

summary:

Remus cock vored the other two dark sides, and then… forgot.

Oops

status: outlined

I Know You Know I'm Here (5S)

summary:

Janus totally didn't see Remus, shrunken and naked, on the bed. Totally. It's absolutely a complete coincidence that Janus, also naked, sat down directly on top of him. Unfortunate positioning, is all.

(pretend unaware)

(Remus is having the time of his life)

status: concept exists. Intro written

Ritual Sacrifice (5S)

summary:

The dragon witch (Janus, wearing cloth wings) has demanded a sacrifice. The unfortunate Roman has been chosen by lot, and now Logan and Virgil must tie him to a tree (Patton's dick) for the dragon witch to claim.

or

The sides do a fun little roleplay

(Janus has a vagina in this one)

status: outlined

A Game of Cock Vore (Sizeshifter Trio)

summary:

Elliott is often the voice of reason and impulse control for the trio.

This fic does not involve Elliott.

status: opening written

Awkward First Time

summary:

A gt couple decide to try sex for the first time. They're not sure what they're doing, but they find a way to make it good for both of them.

status: outlined, opening written

Insomnia (Josh's Tiny Harem)

summary:

Josh can't sleep. His solution? shove a tiny in his pants, see if that helps

status: barely started

Forgotten Tiny Third

summary:

A couple have been trying out various kinks to see how much they like them, and are trying micro/macro.

They forget there's a tiny involved.

status: outlined

Dick Apartments

summary:

So it turns out that the reason the rent is so low for Gus's new apartment is that the building doubles as a giant dildo.

He really should have read the lease document more thoroughly.

status: barely started

Surprise! Shrunken and Trapped - Part 2 (Poll Story)

summary:

Simon has unexpectedly shrunk, and somehow ended up in an unaware giant's underwear, just before he put it on!

~

Simon's stuck under the giant's junk, and he's causing an unfortunate itch.

status: about a paragraph written

Tournament

summary:

Several contestants in a large maze, each equipped with a device which will shrink someone to only a few inches tall.

The last person full sized wins.

Everyone else gets fucked.

status: outlined

[leconcombrerit]

It's finally dawned on me that I probably won't be able to get back to making art anytime soon.

I'd been trying to make redraws in a vague and a little desparate attempt to do just that ; after all, I'd been wanting to draw stuff lately and even had a few new ideas. They just refused to translate to anything when I actually got in front of my computer -hence the redraws. It had worked quite well until now and given me the boost I needed to start new stuff.

Except even those had started to feel terrible. Understand "boring, ugly, plain, uninteresting or fastidious". Yet looking at the old and new versions side by side, it's obviously much better now. Take those Roman and Virgil ones for example. I did get better. It's not even ugly, even though it's low effort. I've been proud of worse.

My brain just makes a shortcut from "I'm bored and uninterested and frustrated" to "I'm bored and uninterested and frustrated because this is boring, uninteresting and therefore frustrating". It's like it's finding itself excuses not to draw, or do crochet, or sculpt, or make origami, or read, or watch videos, or talk to people (that includes answering most messages with less than three weeks intervals). Apparently it's "nothing concerning" according to my shrink, since I can still wake up and go to work. But I'm freaking bored.

Also I always get very depresso in September, worsens in January, peaks in February, gets better in April, rinse and repeat. Thank god for Only Friends airing now, my little brother's existence and immaculate taste in music, and my growing interest in tanks. Dunno what I'd do without those guys.