#that2000skid

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

So I was re-reading "Foundation", and after reading your description of Seth, DJ's, and Missy's gifts, I just wanted to know who gave Seth and DJ their gifts and what the "official" names of their gifts were? Like how Brian's is storytelling, and Missy's is eloquence. (Sorry if the wording comes across weird, I typed this really late at night.) - Emi

All of the Sanders descendants gifts (at least, the ones we have met so far) came from Logan, because of the whole Responsible Adult thing - in Brian’s lifetime, Linda never quite got old enough that she felt comfortable being the godparent

Seth’s gift is that he is “as inconspicuous as he needs to be,” given because Logan was feeling particularly anxious that day and wanted to give him something that would keep him safe. makes for an interesting childhood, for Seth - his parent’s were not exempt from “cant locate the misbehaving child”

and DJ’s is that she is “a particuarly good finder,” given because Logan was feeling especially soft about his hufflepuff brother at that moment

[ashes-in-a-jar]

For your random Magnus episode post, perhaps MAG 111 “Family Business”?

From the TMA Ask game! Give me a random number 1-200 and I'll give my stupid take on it.

Hehe we all know this is not a random episode.

I do have a take on it but it is not stupid and it's very important and informative.

For technical reasons I'm posting it separately here.

[fangirltothefullest]

Hi Tashi! So I was re-binging your amazing Steampunk Automaton AU (which your art and story telling are amazing btw), and I was wondering if I could use your designs as inspiration for some makeup I'm doing for a steampunk automaton costume I'm working on. I think your designs are super cool and I'd love to use them as inspo! I'm planning on posting here on Tumblr and on Instagram if you want to be tagged if you say yes. - Emi

Sure, please credit me with the inspiration and send me a link when you’re done! 83

[magnus-archives-playlist-project]

I was scrolling for my own character playlist inspo (i added fear and delight to my elias playlist) but i totally see “bury a friend” as a jon song (idk which season) but god that chorus is a VIBE. and I didn’t see anything for elias, so I offer “you should see me in a crown” and “Centuries” for him. btw, this is a great project and i can’t wait to scroll for more inspo!

Oh, I can absolutely see these. Bury a Friend makes me think of Jon watching the statement givers’ nightmares, especially since Billie Eilish said it was inspired by her sleep paralysis. Also this bit

Then my limbs all froze and my eyes won't close And I can't say no, I can't say no

Really does encapsulate Jon’s description of being frozen and unable to do anything but watch...

You’re absolutely right that You Should See Me In a Crown is an Elias song, the first verse especially has strong Vibes:

Bite my tongue, bide my time Wearing a warning sign Wait 'til the world is mine Visions I vandalize Cold in my kingdom size Fell for these ocean eyes

Perfect for a man who spent hundreds of years bodysnatching people via their eyes and preparing to kick off an apocalypse and become ‘king of a ruined world.’

I’d never considered Centuries as an Elias song but it does fit surprisingly well

And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name Cause I was only born inside my dreams Until you die for me As long as there's a light My shadow's over you Cause I-I am the opposite of amnesia

Side note, It’d be better to send in songs with the artists’ names so I can be sure I have the right one!

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 23

First  -  Previous  -  Next

Hey..... a member of my household just tested positive for Covid-19, and I am displaying symptoms sooooooo hopefully that won’t affect posting but it has made this chapter a little shorter than I had wanted. Basically if the next chapter isn’t out on time that’s why.

cw: b a d parenting, references to trauma

~

Remus chewed on the end of his pen. Riley, Alberts, Robertson, Robinson, Richards, Allison, Reese, Arlowe . . . something that started with an 'A' or an 'R'. But what? Why couldn't he remember his own last name?

Logan was always saying something about brainwashing and trauma, but Logan knew his own last name! Stupid Logan Sanders and his calm explanations for everything in Remus's life. He didn't want someone telling him how he felt or why, he wanted to move on. He wanted to figure himself out for himself. He wanted out.

The trip to the library a couple weeks ago had been even worse than expected. Logan hadn't even let go of Patton, despite how uncomfy the kid looked. It had to suck to be twenty-something and have your dad drag you around by the shoulders everywhere you go.

Patton had only wanted one book, for some reason. There were so many books in that building, and Logan had pulled like a hundred from the shelves just to show him. He'd signed so quickly about the book that Remus couldn't keep up, but Logan had frowned and talked to the librarian for a few minutes, before eventually presenting Patton with a book—which was probably the one he'd been asking for. His face looked weird after receiving it, happy, but also seriously depressed. It looked pretty old, Remus had no idea why he'd wanted that book.

Rivers, Albright, Abbott, Ramsey, Russell, Reed, Rowell, Austen. . . . Nothing. Not even a smidge of anything. Well, if he couldn't remember his last name, what about the name of where he used to live?

The city came to him almost instantly.

Sharon.

Remus snorted. That was a stupid name for a city. Actually, he could remember joking about it with his brother, about how their mom shared it.

Energy flooded to his limbs with a suddenness, and when the bell rang from the door opening beside him he literally fell out of his seat.

“W-welcome to Chevron,” he said, straightening up. The customer nodded barely at him, making a beeline for the refrigerators in the back. Remus quickly wrote on the scrap of paper he'd been doodling circles onto so far: 'sharon – town and ma'.

Now he just had to figure out which state sounded the most familiar, and if Sharon was a city there. He'd spent days just driving around town with friends, he probably still knew his way around.

The customer paid for a few jugs of Gatorade, then left, dust puffing up behind his truck as he pulled out of the parking lot. Remus sat back down, scratching his mustache with his pen. He could google the city when he got home, then. . . .

Then he'd figure out how to tell Patton and Logan he was leaving.

-

Patton sighed, flipping through the first half of the book again. Summer, it was called. This copy looked almost identical to the other one. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers along the slightly indented title, like Virgil would. He'd had it for almost two months now, asking Father to renew the book instead of allowing it to be returned. He really wanted to finish it, after all.

Not that he could ever get himself to read past around the middle.

Patton's notebook was almost full now, but he couldn't ask Remus for another. Not after how much Remus was already doing for him. The pages were filled with studying mouth movements, bad jokes, and journal entries that mostly were about Virgil and what they'd do when they were together again. In tiny, cramped handwriting was a detailed recollection of everything Patton could remember that Virgil told him about where he lived—which wasn't much. It was hard to hold on to any memories from there. His therapist said it had to do with trauma memories being stored incorrectly, and said he might have flashbacks about it. So far, none had happened, but sometimes he wished one would—just so he could see Virgil again.

He wasn't good at drawing, but here and there in his notebook were vague sketches of Virgil. Some days, Patton woke up not sure what he looked like. He couldn't forget him. Patton would never forgive himself if he forgot the lovely mistiness of Virgil's eyes, the way his hair fell into his mouth and made him sputter, the stark paleness of his face against his black hoodie. . . .

Patton wrapped the hoodie around himself. He needed to think about something else, or else he'd start crying again. Crying made his head and ears hurt, which his doctor said would probably always be the case. So he mostly did his best to not cry, ever.

Patton cast his mind around for something new to think about, and landed on the trip to the library several weeks ago. The trip wasn't . . . optimal?

No. The trip sucked.

Father wouldn't let go of him, which just made him feel like a toddler having to be guided around. It was bright, and had a lot of people, and was a little startling, but Patton was sure he could have handled it. Why didn't Father trust him?

It wasn't just that. Father made him go to bed at a specific time every night, wouldn't let him have any say in what he ate, wouldn't even let him pick what to watch on the TV. It was . . . it was stupid! It was awful, it was embarrassing, it was demeaning! It made Patton feel worthless, like he wasn't even a proper member of society! He wasn't a boy anymore, he had even had a job back at the Haven, he wasn't helpless!

Maybe soon, with all that he'd been learning, he could prove to Father that he was capable. And if Father wouldn't believe him, well . . . Patton would have to make him.

Again, that anger was right at the surface, ready to spill out into the air. At least he had the book.

-

Somehow, Logan had let Remus convince him that he didn't need to go to every therapy appointment with Patton, so Logan was at home alone. For the first time in months. He was exhausted, but he did not have time to sleep.

Patton was hiding something. Logan was undeniably certain of it. And when Patton hid something, he hid it under his bed.

Logan didn't get up immediately. This was a matter of privacy, after all. He understood that he was likely being a little too restricting with his son, but who could blame him? He'd almost lost him. So if Patton was hiding something, it was likely best to know what it was. Patton didn't seem to realize the amount of danger he was in. It wasn't his fault, he was just a child. Children weren't supposed to worry about this sort of thing, it was their parents' jobs to care for them. So, naturally, he had to make sure that whatever Patton was hiding wasn't going to bring harm in some way. If it was, he could gently confront him about it, and explain why it was not acceptable.

With that plan in mind, Logan stood from his desk and made his way to Patton's room. His door was always open, even when he was inside—it made sense, all things considered.

The room still had almost precisely the same setup as Logan had put together, down to the making of the bed. He'd told Patton that he was allowed to customize his room and ask for personal items, but so far he had done neither of those things. The only difference was that the small closet now had a few more pieces of clothing in it.

Logan bent to his hands and knees beside the bed and peered beneath. Sure enough, there were items underneath the boy's bed: a battered blue notebook, the singular book that he had wanted from the library last month, the jacket that had belonged to the other other prisoner. Logan reached for the notebook, grunting when his back popped.

He pulled himself onto Patton's bed to open it. It was confusing, at first, some jokes in his son's handwriting, rather poor sketches of an unfamiliar face. Then. . . .

Oh.

That—that was bad.

Logan took a few deep breaths, then flipped another page, then another. More of the same. This wasn't good. This was not good at all.

These diagrams and instructions, clearly for lip-reading? These would get Patton taken away from him. These would hurt him. These would make Patton want to leave the safety of home.

These were dangerous.

~

Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck @larkiaquail

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

This is kinda a random LAOFT thought I had, but does Trudi and eventually May keep Greta's wedding dress that Virgil made for her in 'Gifts' as a family heirloom, or does it eventually get lost or thrown away? I can see Trudi keeping it, but May on the other hand, with her feelings toward Virge, at least when she's younger, lead me to believe she doesn't want anything to do with him, and that includes any gifts he made. Just a thought.

Greta was actually buried in that dress - however, the veil was kept, and is now in the Gage attic, and will be found by virgil as some point and suitably angsted over

[magnus-archives-playlist-project]

Hi again! I wanted to share some of my song recs for Tim. Firstly, RIP Tim, hope you’re enjoying your kayaking trip...

Secondly, the actual songs. There’s 3 from my little list that really stuck out to me. First, “I Lived” from OneRepublic. I think it really fits Tim overall as a character. Next is “9 to 5” by Dolly Parton, just cause, especially the lyric “It’s all taking and no giving”. Lastly, “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry.

Also, after I finish my character playlists, would you like to see them?

Sorry for the long wait answering this one, I’ve been a bit swamped with schoolwork!

Oof, a rough one for a man who went from like, managing his trauma ok and having a work/life/quest for revenge balance to completely self destructing within a season and a half.

I owned every second that this world could give I saw so many places The things that I did Yeah, with every broken bone I swear I lived

Alternatively, a great song for Tim who is Fine and Off Kayaking With His Friends.

Sdkja;ssdlfkaj;dsfkjas;dskfljas yeah Nine to Five is a fantastic song for Timothy “what are they going to do, fire me” Stoker and the worst office job of all time.

9 to 5, for service and devotion You would think that I would deserve a fair promotion Want to move ahead but the boss won't seem to let me I swear sometimes that man is out to get me

Annnd oh boy, If I Die Young is always a great one for characters who do in fact die young.

So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar They're worth so much more after I'm a goner And maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singin' Funny when you're dead, how people start listenin'

Cool I wasn’t like. Using my heart for anything.

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Hi! I was rereading your amazing LAOFT story, and I was wondering if I could write it out in screenplay format. You’ve built such an amazing world, and I’ve been envisioning it in a movie/TV show format for a while now, and I was wondering if I could write it out and share it with you. - Em

i would LOVE that, and i would love to see!!! oh my goodness that sounds so interesting!!!

[enragedbees]

oh!! ok

1. Ventus - Kingdom Hearts

2. Pure Vessel - Hollow Knight

3. Logan - Sanders Sides

4. Harvey - Stardew Valley

5. Tahani - The Good Place

6. Piper - Heroes of Olympus

7. Alciel - The Devil is a Part Timer

8. Moss - The IT Crowd

9. Lapis - Steven Universe

10. Amarinda - The Ascendence Trilogy

@thetomorrowshow @thenewlarislynn @queroze @lostonehero @endless-rain-of-words @fall-sunflowers @that2000skid @kippertheyorkie

i forgot that i got tagged in this a million years ago bc it was in my drafts so i’ll do it now lol

tagged by @stardustlogan!

rules: name 10 favorite characters from 10 different things and then tag 10 people

lance mcclain (vld)

logan sanders (tss)

queen sarai (tdp)

magnus burnsides (taz:b)

argo keene (taz:g, technically different)

sokka (atla)

amethyst (su)

crowley and aziraphale (gomens, shut up i literally can’t choose between them)

jesper johansson (klaus)

jack frost (rotg)

i tag @sleepless-in-starbucks @ohsweetflips @notveryglittery @teacupfulofstarshine @heyhelloitsk @centrumlumina @hijabibyleth

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 6

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12

I have suddenly found myself with the intense need to rearrange future chapters (of which there are currently five), so some things won’t happen in the same way--but hopefully better ways, if this works out! This shouldn’t delay any chapters lol.

cw: food mentions, panic, blood mention, unethical surgery/experiments (in the recent past)

~

Patton had eaten five meals, and Virgil still wasn't back yet. He tried to not panic. His ears and head still ached from whatever operation he'd went through—which he had suspicions about. Were they trying to make him hear? It hadn't worked, if that was it. And if so, were they currently trying to cure Virgil's blindness?

There wasn't much to do, without Virgil there. Patton walked around the room constantly, refusing to pull their book from under the pillow without Virgil there. He made up new signs to teach Virgil when he got back, one for 'hope' and another for 'out' and a third for 'free'. He washed his shirt in the sink, froze when he went to hang it on the unused bed and saw Virgil's hoodie already there. He completely broke down when the next meal arrived, still only one serving on the tray.

After the sixth meal, Patton just stopped. He couldn't imagine life without Virgil, so he just stopped everything. The seventh meal was pushed through the flap, but Patton couldn't find the motivation to get off the bed. He'd never felt this way before—even when Father had been taken, he'd continued to go about his life. He'd been rather disconnected for some time, but he hadn't just fallen apart like this.

What did Virgil mean to him? Patton tried to tell himself to grow up. Why was he this hung up over an Outsider? But Virgil wasn't just an Outsider, wasn't he? Virgil was . . . more. More than a friend, more than anyone in the Haven, more than the so-called 'Prophets' that led them. Virgil made him feel all funny in his stomach when he smiled, made him laugh with his wry looks, made Patton feel safe when he held him. Was that . . . love?

Then the eighth meal didn't arrive when it was supposed to. Patton wasn't sure how he knew that—some sixth sense, probably. It confused him, and just as he was sitting up, the door opened.

Two men dragged a soaked, pale body into the room, and it took Patton far too long to recognize his Virgil. The man was shaking, utterly convulsing, and had it not been for the look that one of the men—'Brother' Coleman, Patton thought snidely—leveled at him, Patton would have already been on the floor, holding Virgil close. Instead, he curled back onto the bed slightly, seeing the men laugh at his submission then leave the room, slamming the door behind them.

Patton dove to the ground and took Virgil by the shoulder, intending to wrap him in a hug. He pulled back as if he'd touched a stove when Virgil violently flinched away. He couldn't hurt him, not Virgil! Still, he needed Virgil to know he was safe. Patton took his wrist as gently as possible, slowly tracing his own name onto Virgil's arm. Virgil relaxed considerably, his mouth moving in the way that Patton knew formed his own name. His screwed-shut eyes relaxed, then his head slumped, his body slowly losing all the tension it had been holding. He was still shuddering, sending droplets of water every which way, but Patton assumed he was asleep.

I'm sorry, Virgil. He wasn't strong enough to pick Virgil up, despite being the larger one of the two. Father had never let him build muscles, always signing something about 'being seen as a threat' when Patton asked why. Instead, he eased Virgil out of his sopping t-shirt and jeans and stripped the two blankets from the bed, wrapping him in them instead. For the moment, he left the sopping clothes on the floor as he brushed Virgil's wet hair out of his face. The man's hair had grown too long in the months they'd been captive, almost curling around his shoulders. Virgil's forehead was far too hot (the rest of his body clammy and cold) and Patton could have cried—was crying, because this was the only person who cared about him, the only person he cared about, and he could be dying! They'd hurt Virgil, those monsters, doing it in the name of some stupid religion!

Patton's eyes burned, but he pushed aside his roiling feelings in favor of easing a pillow under Virgil as he noticed how his head was bumping up and down as he shook. Virgil needed his help, and being upset about something he couldn't control wouldn't help him.

Patton gently took Virgil's hand, slowly caressing his knuckles. The man stayed asleep, though the line between his eyes smoothed out just the slightest bit. Another tear slipped from Patton's eye. They'd hurt him, they'd hurt him and they didn't care! Not only had they hurt Virgil, an Outsider—his blood boiled at the term—but they'd hurt Patton, a brother like them!

No, Patton had never been a brother. He was different. Maybe they'd thought if they were able to fix him he could be just like them. As a child, all he'd wanted was to be normal, be like them. Even up until recently he'd wished for it, knowing that if he could hear, they wouldn't have locked him up like this, hurting him in their attempts to make him right.

Now, though, Patton knew he never wanted to be like them. They were terrible; the way they treated Patton had nothing to do with his disability and everything to do with the type of horrible people they were. They preached love and caring, while those who didn't fit precisely into their ideal world were forced to conform or suffer—or both, in his case.

These people, these people that Patton had once considered himself one of, had tortured him—locked him up—kidnapped and tortured Virgil, gods, they were monsters!

Patton fully sobbed now, careful to not grip Virgil's hand too tight and wake him up. He had never wanted to leave this place more in his life. If they could get out, everything would be so much better. He would actually be able to take care of Virgil, to keep him safe and close. They would never touch Virgil again.

-

Patton knew when Virgil woke up, as the body beside him began to tremble. After around twenty minutes of Virgil being asleep and Patton rubbing his limbs with one of the blankets, the shaking had begun to die down. Patton hadn't slept at all, his blood still boiling, so he'd been awake hours later when Virgil's flushed face cooled down, the fever breaking.

Now, Patton watched with bated breath as those beautiful, clouded grey eyes flickered open—but they weren't. They were red, bloody, filled with pain. Patton forced himself to not pull back as his stomach lurched. Virgil's brow furrowed deeply, then his eyes closed again as his lips moved.

Patton gripped his wrist gently, letting him know he was there. He quickly spelled out Virgil's name, watching and sighing at the smile that flitted onto Virgil's face. Virgil's hand shakily traced a 'P' back before falling.

The food had arrived not long before, so Patton gently tugged Virgil into his lap and pressed a cup of water to his lips. Virgil obediently took a sip, chest twitching as he almost choked. A quick question of food? had Virgil nodding, so Patton scooped up a small amount of instant mashed potatoes, then another when it was gone. Virgil only managed half the serving before he had to tap out, shaking more than earlier.

Patton knew that it would help Virgil to be on the bed, but with the way his legs were twitching he didn't think it would be wise to try to help him stand. So, he did the only thing he could think of to comfort him—get his hoodie and curl up at his side.

Virgil cried when Patton wrapped the hoodie around him, tugging at Patton's heartstrings. All he wanted in life were two things:

To comfort Virgil in any way possible, and

To get revenge on the bastards that hurt him.

Virgil didn't seem to want to sleep again, so Patton left him for a moment—only a moment, but it had Virgil shaking harder—and returned with their book, opening it to page sixty-eight, where they had left off last. Only ten words in, Virgil jerked his arm away. Patton waited patiently. Virgil was likely experiencing sensory overload, which happened occasionally depending on how anxious he was. Patton didn't move, and soon Virgil tapped a short sentence into his arm.

Please hold.

Patton melted, then placed the book aside and wrapped his arms around Virgil. He squeezed the man's shoulders gently, and Virgil buried his face into his chest and wept.

I'm here, Patton did his best to telepathically communicate. I'm here and I love you and I won't hurt you.

If Virgil understood, he didn't show it. Patton settled for pulling him closer, rubbing slow circles into his back and nuzzling his nose into Virgil's hair.

I love you. I love you so much.

~

Taglist (ask to be added/removed): @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 3

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11

Hey all! I’m really enjoying writing this! We’re almost to some exciting stuff--next chapter is going to be big (and boy, the chapter after that...)! This chapter is a bit shorter than the past two, but 4 and 5 will more than make up for it in length! Hope you enjoy!

CW: Inflicted blindness

~

Knowing that Patton was deaf didn't change much. Virgil still talked—possibly even more than he had before. They would sit, curled into each other, and Virgil would talk and talk and talk. He told stories, he talked about his roommate, he did his best to recount The Hunger Games from memory. He went over rules of the English language, tried to recall the periodic table of elements. All the while, Patton had a hand on his chest and the other on his cheek, feeling the vibrations and presumably watching his mouth.

Every day, they ate three meals that were suspiciously similar to those of the previous day.

Every day, they had a slowly lengthening work-out routine, now with thirty jumping jacks and five push-ups, followed by twenty lunges.

Every day, they spent hours tracing the alphabet onto each others' arms. Every day, they got better at spelling and understanding, sometimes getting whole sentences out before having to repeat something.

Virgil eventually found himself growing bored of the monotony. He no longer feared for his life, as he had the first month of captivity. He hadn't been so much as touched by anyone other than Patton. The food was fine, the living conditions were acceptable. He knew the room well enough by now that he could walk without Patton's help, but chose not to. He was still held captive by the irrational fear that Patton would disappear if he let go of him. Even when in the poor excuse for a bathroom, Patton tapped lightly on the curtain to a regular tempo, letting Virgil hear his presence.

Every day was the same without fail.

Until one day, the schedule changed.

On that day, Virgil was woken up by a hand tugging on his wrist. He barely had time to trace a '?' on the arm, which was hurriedly responded to with a 'P' before pulling him out of bed. He was less worried now, knowing it was Patton waking him up and not some dangerous stranger. Then he was stumbling across the room, on track for the door, and then—what? Where was the door?

Virgil tripped out of his surprise, almost introducing his face to whatever floor he was hurrying across. Where were they? The room wasn't this long. Were they out?

He started slapping at Patton's arm frantically, trying to get the man to stop moving and talk to him. Where were they? How did they get out of the room?

Finally Patton stopped, and Virgil could feel the excitement practically bleed out of him.

W-h-e-r-e a-r-e w-e ?

A hesitation, then Patton responded.

O-u-t. R-o-o-m w-i-t-h b-o-o-k-s.

Just books? Why were they here, then? Who let them out?

G-u-a-r-d g-u-i-d-e, Patton spelled as if he could hear Virgil's thoughts. G-o b-a-c-k.

After a moment, Patton gently took his hand and led him again, albeit more slowly this time. Virgil knew he was in a different place—or had been—but it felt the same. There was no change of air, no different smell. For the first time since he'd met Patton, Virgil felt hopelessness turn his bones to lead. Soon enough, they were back to the room, Patton taking him on a quick round of the room to let him know where they were. Then Patton pulled him to the floor and began excitedly tracing.

I got a book! Do you want me to spell it to you?

Virgil nodded animatedly, before actually thinking about it. Surely that would kill Patton's hands. He shook his head, then spelled out I don't want to bother you.

Patton responded by pulling Virgil's hand up to his mouth, tracing it along what was almost certainly a smile. Without saying anything else, he began the book.

A girl came out of lawyer Royall's house, at the end of the one street of North Dormer. . . .

-

They didn't even get all the way through chapter one before they were both too mentally exhausted to continue. They lay like they sometimes did, hands loosely clasped, feet barely entwined. Patton had picked up on the fact that too much physical contact at once overwhelmed Virgil, but also understood that he wasn't willing to go with zero contact at any time.

Virgil talked again, repeating things that he'd already said. It didn't matter—Patton couldn't hear.

“So then Roman took one look at the guy and said to me, 'he's hot.' I was like, whatever. I'm not sure what he saw in the dude, he was pretty average looking. Roman's attracted to guys with vitiligo or birthmarks, though, so I guess that already colored him green in his book. Colored him green—who says that? Nobody, probably. It doesn't matter. Anyway, Ro was really into this dude, and he finally got all that swagger that he sometimes gets, like I told you the other day? So he walked up to this guy and asked his name. I think he was planning on making up a pick-up line? Afterwards, he wouldn't tell me what happened, but he was rejected big time. He was taking over our whole dorm room moping for the next week before he asked me to go talk to the guy.”

Virgil shifted a bit, trying not to move Patton's hand from his chest. He always let it rest there when Virgil was talking.

“So the guy's name was Janus. Yeah, he was sort of distant and rude, but Roman normally only talks about his newest crush for three days. He'd lasted a month, so I figured it was sort of permanent. So I told him Roman wouldn't leave me alone until the two of them went on a date, and Janus agreed to ask him out if I gave him three of my meals. Not a problem—I wasn't gonna eat nineteen meals that week anyway. It was a mistake, I guess, because the next thing I knew they were dating and I was still hearing Roman obsess over him, but now it wasn't as creepy because it was mutual. And sometimes I'd get back, with plans to listen to music and think about doing my homework, and they'd just be making out on his bed. I almost bought them a 'do not disturb' sign, but it's my room too, y'know? I have rights.”

A wave of sadness hit him. He never thought he'd miss his roommate publicly making out with his weird boyfriend, but here he was.

It was definitely time to stop talking, though. Water was only accessible through meals or the sink in the sectioned-off corner, and he didn't feel like getting Patton up just because he had a sore throat.

O-k-? Patton spelled sleepily. Virgil pressed his knuckles into Patton's wrist, their agreed-upon sign for 'yes'. He knew they ought to get into the bed, but he really didn't feel like getting up. Maybe they could sleep on the floor.

Patton seemed to feel the same way, curling right into his side and settling in. For all he missed in the past, Virgil wouldn’t take it all back if it meant he would lose Patton. He let his hand card through the man’s hair gently, then sighed. Sure, life sucked. But they had each other.

~

Taglist (I would love to add you, just ask!): @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera

[deceitfullyanxioussss]

Hhjng good timing :33

I need some positive thinking.

1.) MY CATSSS

2.) My best frienddddddddjjfi she's stuck with me for so long despite my bullshit

3.) YOU GUYSSSSS ARE THE FUCKING BEST OK

4.) Thomas Sandersss

He's so positive and wholesome, he constantly gives me hope that better days are coming and that maybe I can be happy like him

5.) Walking outside when it's lightly raining outside. It's very relaxing.

@twentyonepilotsfan1 @that2000skid @thequeerfestivebin @lord-of-the-wicked @paniniheadqueen @8lackraven @the-void-has-questions @thedeceitfulpeacock @fullphilled @themultishipperchild

pass the happy! when you get this, list five things that make you happy and then send this to 10 of the most recent people in your notifs! (if you want to!) 😊

hmm! ok! 

1. space

2. my friends

3. almost everyone in the sanders sides fandom! because everyones so nice!!

4. hmmm the fact that I know one day I will finish the wips that have been abandoned 

5. snakes 

and i’m to tired so i’m just ganna tag them here, 

@muggyart9 @toxic-luck @yourlocalfrenchie  @softbludemon @leafy-autistic @dragonindigo245 @idkanameatall @mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon @salmakesbadart @bugzyboiz