#logan can talk for hours about space and science and all that

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Virgil, standing in the door way, voice distorted and shadows curling around him: who's ready for my ultimate FNAF timeline

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

im asking you about the lab rats + btr boys dynamics here instead lol!! give me all the deets

Good, bc I don't feel like finding my original post about it! (I realized about halfway through the second paragraph that this is going to be kind of long...)

Oh geez, okay, I'm putting parenthetical asides in italics bc it was hard for even me to read. It...it has to go under a cut for my own sanity

to get it out of the way, Donald and Griffin are both weird rich men (Donald's age is inconsistent, but he's in his late 30s/early 40s, depending on which episode you believe, so I wouldn't really call him "old", per se), but they probably butt heads and avoid each other when they can. I doubt it's very difficult though, seeing as Donald is in tech and Griffin has like eight billion different things his company manufactures. Donald is focused on money too, but his company is only tech based, while Griffin has branched out to include more things. I bet they hate each other SO much.

I don't think Chase and Logan would actually butt heads too much. They're both the smartest people in their households (okay technically Chase IS smarter than Donald), and they don't really have anyone else to connect over nerdy stuff with. Chase's smarts are valued when it matters, but he gets made fun of for being nerdy (in the way siblings do) and while Logan doesn't get made fun of, really, his smarts are also valued for what they can do for others. I think Chase and Logan would love having someone they can talk to about their interests (space being one they would connect over, along with medical science. Logan wants to be a doctor, and Chase has literally taken classes to become "a chiropractor in the Philippines" in the computer lab on his literal first day of high school) without needing to help anyone. They can just be nerds. Post-You Posted What?!?, Logan is going to lose his shit when he finds out Chase has been to space before. Chase would get to talk for like an hour about how his bionic infrastructure works and Logan would listen intently.

The main dynamics I was thinking about were Chase + Logan, Adam + Carlos, and Bree + Kendall, initially.

I think Bree would so have a little crush on Kendall at first, but it wouldn't last very long.

Now that I think about it...if Katie is in the picture...ok, hold on. Bree and Katie would get along fantastically...eventually. Bree "I need a sister" Davenport and Katie Knight? Oh my god, the way that would unfold... Bree obviously wants to act like an older sister to her, because she's always wanted a sister. If you've seen Jonas LA, it's a little like that time Stella tried to babysit Kiara at first, up until Bree gets frustrated and her inner tomboy comes out, much to Katie's relief. (Katie kept running off to talk to Chase about the stock market and things of that nature. She sounded very intellectual, and she wasn't incorrect, so Chase took her seriously, which is saying something since he's always the first to correct people.) Bree and Katie eventually mastermind a prank on all of their brothers, and Bree learns that the idea of having a sister isn't all ribbons and glitter, and that that's okay.

AND ADAM AND CARLOS. Even pre-You Posted What?!?, they hit it off almost immediately. ("Why do you wear that helmet all the time?" "I get hit in the head a lot" "Oh, cool, maybe I need one of those...") They set up something akin to the zipline course in the Davenport living room (the Davenliving room? lol), just something super dangerous and irresponsible, but unrelated to bionics. Adam makes the mistake of using one of Donald's inventions and it goes horribly wrong. (Not like, resulting in death wrong, just "wrong" along the lines of Adam getting shrunk down to 2 inches tall or Bree's hair growing down to the floor/getting burnt off) Post-You Posted What?!? Carlos is an eager participant in games such as Bionic Brother Toss and Human Bullseye Bounce (I had to look up the episode to find the name of that one), which are very dangerous (for Carlos), but luckily he always has his helmet! They're never bored together. Never.

I think this crossover lends itself well to a plotline where Adam, Bree, Chase and Leo get to see the better side of James's personality. Leo especially would get SO fed up with James's occasional self-centeredness (ironic since Leo has his moments, too) and I think it would be hilarious, but in certain circumstances James has been known to put his friends first and not even think about himself (like in Big Time Movie) and the setting/nature of lab rats provides ample opportunities for characters to be in danger. James uses his conceitedness as a defense mechanism, and Chase becomes more egotistical (at times) in later seasons for the same reasons. I think a later seasons version of Chase could eventually realize that he and James have more in common than they thought, but as it stands, earlier seasons Chase isn't as self-absorbed (side note: Chase's overconfidence is about his intelligence, while James's is about his looks. this is where they clash. once the veil falls, they realize they're both insecure and playing themselves up to mask that. the conflict lies in finding a plot point that would result in both of their masks coming down at the same time or close to each other), and the one person they know who's that obnoxious about their looks is Mr. Davenport, and none of them (consciously) want to be like their father. HOWEVER, an Event occurs, and the lab rats + Leo realize James more layers than he lets people see. (Leo can make any interaction funny, though. Leo "I think what this needs is a little dab o' Dooley" Dooley and James "who's handsomer than you? no one!" Diamond in a room together? Leo would roast the shit out of him in a one-sentence quip and the conversation would just continue and leave James in the dust. Early seasons Leo, that is. Later seasons Leo is more jaded--though still funny--ever since the lab blew up, he almost lost multiple limbs, etc. so I think his dynamic with James would be different.) But yeah, James has layers that he sorta needs a catalyst to reveal, but I think the rats would get along with him much better once he lets his true colors show.

Kendall is an interesting one. I actually think he and Chase would butt heads more than Logan and Chase would. Kendall is the "leader", as appointed by his friends, but Chase has been "Mission Leader" since he was twelve years old (he says twelve in some bionic island episode, but I don't remember which one. at the very least he's been mission leader since he was fourteen) and as late as elite force he's still attached to that title. If something were to go down, both Chase and Kendall would try to resume the position of "leader" and they would inevitably clash. Kendall is more easygoing than Chase is. Chase is very by the book and calculated, so Kendall's more chaotic methods of leading would get on his nerves. They wouldn't hate each other, but it would take time for them to learn to compromise.

As much as Kendall loves his little sister, I can see this exchange clearly:

Bree: I need a sister. Kendall: You want mine? Katie: Hey! Kendall: I'm kidding!

but anyway, I can see Kendall and Bree getting along well. Maybe Bree has a little crush and they go on a few dates, but they realize they work better as friends. Either way, Bree is feminine but can still kick Kendall's ass (which Kendall seems to be drawn to; re: Jo and probably also Lucy). They go to hockey games together after they had to tell Adam he wasn't allowed to go with them anymore (he got too hyped and his plasma grenades glitched...in an arena...).

There's more combinations of character dynamics, but I've already typed so much and I can't think of much for the rest of them right now.

[bonniebelleklyde]

Swapped, Part One

Janus walks through the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, basking in the comfort and security that comes with wearing Roman’s face. Janus himself is not welcome in these common areas, and is particularly unwelcome in daylight hours. The term “dark side” is taken far too literally around here. But Janus happens to know that Roman is holed up in his room, writing like a madman while his inspiration is fresh. So Janus decides he isn’t harming anyone by borrowing the prince’s face for an afternoon.

He is about halfway down the hall when he nearly trips over a pair of legs stretched out in front of a figure slumped against the wall, his face turned toward the ceiling in obvious melancholy...Logan.

For all the countless lies that Janus has told over the years, he’s never actually seen a point to lying to himself. Lies to others can win him allies, achieve his goals. Lying to oneself only ever gets in the way, delays some inevitable conclusion or other.

So Janus has never lied to himself about Logan. He’s not sure he could if he wanted to. Images flash in his mind’s eye as they often do. The sharp grin the logical side wears when he’s sure he has won an argument— the triumphant glint in his dynamic eyes that robs the space around him of its air. The food that would mysteriously appear outside of Janus’s door— three times a day like clockwork— when he’d entered one of his sullen periods and refused to leave his room, and the deep shade of red Logan’s face had turned when he’d been caught. Logan at his most passionate, waxing poetic about the chemical compounds of soil, about the concept of speed, about Kantian theory, about anything and everything, as if rushing to get the words out before he exploded for keeping them locked in his own mind. Logan at rest, having fallen asleep in front of the fire, a book laid open on his lap. Midnight philosophical debates and midday chess games. Days that stretched into nights and again into mornings doing nothing but talking— sharing thoughts, ideas, observations, comfortable in one another’s company.

No, Janus has never lied to himself about Logan. Of course he had fallen in love with Logan. How on earth could he be expected to keep from loving a man like that?

Even now, with sadness etched into every inch of Logan’s features, Janus has the same thought he always does upon first seeing Logan—- beautiful, wonderful creature.

The thought is quickly followed by a sharp pang of concern and the desire to wipe away all that melancholy and replace it with mirth. Logan should always be smiling.

Without thinking, Janus slides down the length of the wall to sit beside Logan. He doesn’t speak, knows that Logan will if he wants to. Sure enough, he does.

“You were right, you know.” There is a hopelessness in Logan’s voice that threatens to crack Janus’s heart in two.

It is easy to talk to Logan. It has always been easy. And Janus’s reply is on the tip of his tongue— he wants to tease the other side, to say there are a great many things I’ve been right about; you’ll have to help me narrow it down. Just to make Logan smile, if only for a moment. To lift that awful shroud of sadness hanging over him. But then he remembers he is wearing Roman’s face.

Logan wants to speak to Roman about whatever it is that’s plaguing him. It’s something the two have obviously spoken about previously. Janus knows that Logan and Roman are quite close. That while Logan may be happy to speak to Janus about philosophy and science and even poetry, when it comes to things that matter, he would rather speak to Roman. That is as it should be.

But Roman has shown no intent to leave his room in the near future, and here Janus is. He decides to keep up the facade.

“About what?” he asks simply, hoping to gather enough information to help, or at least to find some way to pass it along to the real Roman later.

Logan sends him a sharp glare before returning his gaze to the ceiling. Apparently, the answer should have been obvious, likely would have been had Roman actually been here.

“About Janus.”

Every muscle in Janus’s body freezes. He stops breathing. No. No, this was a mistake. He is not meant to hear this, and he is quite sure that— whatever it is that Roman of all people was right about concerning Janus— he doesn’t want to hear it. But he’s in too deep. That has always been the risk of deception. He says nothing, waiting for Logan’s elaboration like a guilty prisoner awaiting his verdict.

“I love him.”

No. No no no no no. This isn’t possible. Logan doesn’t love him. He can’t. Janus...Janus is inherently unlovable, lucky to be tolerated, especially by someone as awe-inspiring as the despairing man sitting next to him now. And yet, there isn’t the faintest hint of a lie in Logan’s words. Not like this, Janus thinks desperately. It shouldn’t be a trick, an impersonation, a lie that leads Logan to reveal this to him. Janus has inadvertently robbed him of any choice in the matter. This is so wrong; he is so wrong.

“And he hates me.”

What? Janus is shocked out of his reverie by Logan’s words. How could Logan possibly believe that Janus hates him when Janus adores him so completely? He opens his mouth to speak but snaps it shut again. He is still wearing Roman’s face.

No. He will not continue to perpetuate the illusion. He is not going to intentionally manipulate Logan into saying anything more. Not about this. In the blink of an eye, Janus is himself again and Logan literally falls over from the shock of it.

“I’m sorry!” Janus exclaims frantically. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I didn’t know—“

But Logan has gotten to his feet and is no longer facing him. Logan is walking away, and this is all so wrong that Janus wants to cry.

“I don’t hate you,” he says desperately, but his voice catches in his throat and doesn’t carry. “I don’t hate you!” he tries again, a shout this time.

But Logan doesn’t turn around, doesn’t come back, doesn’t so much as acknowledge that Janus has said anything at all. Down the hall, a door slams, and Logan is gone.

“I love you,” Janus whispers.

But it is far too late for that.

[stovetuna]

Oh! Oh! Your Tony-finally-accepts-Steve-Loves-him fic was so lovely. A+ 🥺

And the reverse-ish! The first time Steve realizes Tony doesn’t actually believe him when he says I love you and how Steve both reacts and comes to term with the situation (does he plan on talking about it? Love offensive with super romantic dates? Figure out that the solution to this problem a marathon not a sprint?)

aaaaaahhh I am gonna EXPIRE

can you imagine?? the moment I think about it my heart absolutely BREAKS in the best, most bittersweet way, because oh, Steve. you really thought the moment you kissed Tony the first time—you were sitting next to him on the living room sofa, a whole empty seat on either side of you because you were so unnecessarily close together, but then you were struck by the thought not close enough, and you were in the middle of listening to and watching Tony watch the Lost in Space reboot (so many science critiques you didn't understand a lick of but you are more than happy to play audience to the things Tony cares about, loudly) when you leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of Tony's motormouth, which apparently was all the invitation Tony needed to crawl into your lap and press his warm, warm, warm lips to yours and kiss the breath out of you—he understood.

because it was so easy to go from best friends to romantic partners, and you had years of friendship between you to hearken back to. Plenty of moments when you thought you'd made it clear to Tony that you loved him, that you cared about him, that you admired and respected and yes, deep down (not that deep, really) were very much attracted to him.

you thought.

so when you kiss the first time, you think he knows. when you go on your first real date and play footsie all night under the table and hold hands the whole walk home, you think he knows. when, a few days later, he slides inside you, deep and hard and wet, and butterfly-kisses the tears from your eyes and tells you how beautiful you are as he fucks you, wailing, into the mattress, you know, down to your soul, to the basest atoms of your existence, that Tony loves you as much as you love him.

but something isn't right, because even as weeks, months go by, and you move into Tony's suite and fall asleep wrapped around him almost every night (except those when he's in another country, and the bed is almost as cold as the ice, or when he's consumed by some project in the workshop and loses track of time), and you tell each other "I love you" out loud multiple times, and say it without words in a million other ways, you get the feeling that Tony. doesn't. believe you?

you're baffled. genuinely, it doesn't make sense. you've loved each other for years. even when you fought, bloody and fierce and deeply, horrifically wrong, you loved each other. it wouldn't have hurt nearly as much—felt like a piece of you being ripped away, phantom pain aging you inwardly until every step in any direction that wasn't toward Tony was agony��if you didn't.

but even though Tony says it back, and he does, every time, even when you're yelling at each other after a battle goes "tits-up," thank you, Logan, he has this look in his eyes, and the only word you've been able to put to it is doubt.

at first you think it means Tony doubts you—your feelings, your intentions, yourself and all the baggage that entails—but that thought quickly passes. because you know he doesn't. you know, from experience, that Tony's worst thoughts and feelings very rarely have anything to do with anyone other than himself. which means Tony doubts himself. maybe even reality. not in a "you might be a Skrull" kind of way, but in a "this is too good to be true" kind of way.

and doesn't that just break your fucking heart.

for months you watch this doubt flicker like a guttering little flame in Tony's bright blue eyes, every time you say "I love you, Tony" with your voice. it's never there when you're brushing your teeth next to other in the morning, bumping hips and giggling like the children you never got to be; it's not there when you silently hand him his coffee and kiss him on the temple on his way out the door to a morning meeting, grousing on the phone even as he blows a kiss to you before the elevator doors close; it's not there when you sit down next to him after a battle, on the steps of some middle-of-nowhere courthouse that just got blown up by some no-name villain, taking unspeakable comfort in the radiating heat coming off the armor that kept Tony safe in combat, and without having to ask or say anything at all Tony takes the helmet off and you lean your foreheads together and just breathe each other's air, too relieved and too exhausted to kiss; it's not there when you make love to him, slowly, excruciatingly sweet, your hips rolling in a steady, undulating wave between Tony's long, golden thighs, his arms loose around your neck, his gorgeous voice gone raspy and quiet from screaming through two orgasms already, and you tell him to look at you as you come together one last time.

it's only when you say it. put words to it. make it real. that's when that banked ember of doubt flickers to life, and it feels like you have to start all over again. which isn't a hardship, per se. not at all, really. it's an honor and a privilege and an absolute pleasure to be a part of Tony's life like this. it's also frustrating, and infuriating, and dangerous, but that was always the case. the only difference is now, you can have make-up sex.

you fight about it first. it starts out in earnest, a forthright—if frighteningly vulnerable—conversation over dinner that turns into a shouting match to rival anything from the war that of course gets cut short by the Avengers alarm going off and having to Assemble before you can clear the air. he almost dies in the battle, short-circuited by an exceptionally advanced EMP that takes out the RT (and whoo, boy does that make you spiral, thinking back, to the moment you did that to Tony, almost killed him, and thinking those thoughts while you keep vigil at his bedside for days makes you wish harder than you ever have before in your life that you could drink yourself to death), and you're too relieved when he opens his eyes and the first word out of his mouth is your name, like he's the one who should be relieved, to bring it up again.

you love him. he loves you. it works. better than that, it's good. and eventually—quickly, even—you learn. you learn tell him in every which way you can think of, without words, how much you love him, and why. you text him pictures from your runs through Central Park (he makes the photo you sent him that spring, of the adolescent raccoon emerging from a hollowed-out tree, his lock screen for a week before he changes it back to a picture of you in bed drooling onto your pillow). you help him take off the armor when he's dead on his feet. you feed him. you train with him. you listen to him ramble on about bad movie science and cheer when Matt Damon mentions him in that Mars movie. (You literally cry laughing when Tony picks up the phone at the end of the movie and calls Matt Damon and tells him to text him next time, "I'll come pick you up, just stop getting lost in fucking space, asshole!")

you kiss his scarred fingers, with their fresh cuts and scrapes and bruises from working in the shop, with a reverence. you draw baths for him and don't join, even though it's one of your favorite things to do in the world, because you can just tell Tony is going through something and he needs the space to work it out for himself. you're always there to fish him out when the water gets cold, and by that time Tony's ready to tell you about whatever's eating him.

you call him every foul, dirty name in the book when you fuck him loudly against the wall and sob yourself hoarse when he makes love to you for what feels like hours, so slow and deep and steady you honestly lose track of how many times you come. you clean him up after and tuck him in. you kiss him on the forehead before you go on your morning run, every morning without fail (except for those when you're apart, and you still, even after almost two years, catch yourself mid-motion sometimes, about to kiss empty air—you text Tony about it and he laughs every time).

you learn to be patient. you learn to show more than you tell. because you realize that Tony was lied to his entire life, about so many things. Lied to his face about who he was, who he was going to be, who he never would be allowed to be. Told over and over again by liars and cheats and villains and friends and lovers and family that he wasn't worth the effort of loving. that he would never be loved for anything other than the black credit card in his wallet, the cars in his garage, the houses and the private jets and the clothes and the money and the things he invented—the things he made—that were supposed to help people but only ever ended up killing them.

money, and blood.

it's no wonder he doubts.

so you set yourself to the long and genuinely joyous (if at times frustrating) task of convincing Tony that not only do you love him, more than you've loved anything else in your life, ever will, but he is lovable. not worthy of love, not deserving, and he is those things, but inherently—he is a sweet, caring, kind, fierce, sexy, strong, dangerous, incredible, dorky, suave, fumbling genius of a man and he is loved for those things.

it takes time. good things always do.

you've had a little velvet box hidden away in your bottom bedside drawer for four months when Tony wakes up and sees you in bed with him, realizes you've been watching him sleep—so peacefully, the furrow between his brows erased, as you play with his slightly overgrown hair (you wish he'd keep it, but it's a hazard, in your line of work). you kiss him on the forehead and say good morning, sweetheart, because it is, even if it is pouring down rain outside.

maybe especially because it's raining outside. because here you are, high up among thick grey clouds that smother every inch of the city, so it's just you two, in this bed, together in your own little world, and you're watching that stubborn ember of doubt in Tony's eyes finally get washed away.

read part one

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Monsters in the Closet

Title: Monsters in the Closet

Summary: “You’re so much nicer when you’re bigger.” 

 Roman knows he can’t change the past. He can’t change the way he treated Virgil horribly, driving him to feel the only way he could be accepted was to be the villain of the story. But he can sit there and feel guilty knowing he is not worthy of any of the trust this young Virgil has placed in him. 

(Part of the Tiny Virgil verse, takes place after An Itsy Bitsy Nightmare)

Word-Count: 2.7k

Pairing: Brotherly Prinixety

Warnings: Guilt, Panic/Anxiety, Treating Someone Wrongfully in the Past, Deaging, Hurt/Comfort

This part of a very late birthday present for @theeternalspace! I’m so sorry this took so long, please forgive me and I hope you enjoy! :)

-

Roman lets out a sigh and opens his eyes. Virgil is still snuggled close to his chest, asleep again after waking up what appeared to be a horrible nightmare. Roman can’t find himself to fall back asleep. His mind refuses to settle, refuses to let go of what Virgil said to him moments ago. 

“You’re so much nicer when you’re bigger.”

The words rumble in Roman’s mind like that of a great and fearsome thunderstorm. How could it not? All the more confirmation that regardless of the unfounded trust young Virgil placed in him, he’d still expected to inevitably be treated terribly.

And that? The guilt of that stings deeper than any sting of the blade or a bandersnatch’s ferocious bite.

It also makes him wonder what exactly the Ankle-Terror thought was going on. Kids aren’t stupid. Naïve, yes, but that’s different from being stupid. They’re creative and innovative in ways adults couldn’t dream to be. Plus, they tended to love engaging in-depth conversations about Disney. 

Sometimes, Roman misses the days when Thomas was a kid. Back when they were free to run around in the backyard and reimagine the swings as a spaceship or the underneath of the trampoline as the lair of an evil sorcerer. Back when they weren’t bound by inane things such as time constraints and the logistics of translating an idea into a real-world possibility. 

He could get Thomas and the others roped in a fantastical make-believe for hours. Weeks even of stretching an incredible imaginary world to its limits. The only things that ever stood in their way was the outside forces of school, parents and bedtime.

Nowadays, the reminiscing with a tinge of regret. There always had to be villains to fight, you see. An evil mad scientist. A corrupt king. A greedy dragon. The list goes on and on. He never ever played the villain. He’d always cast himself and Thomas as the heroes. Logan and Patton were the supporting stars. Virgil and the rest? The villains through and through. 

Virgil at this age would be used to this treatment. Rather than in his rightful heroic role as Protector, Defender, Watcher of All Perceived Threats--he played roles such as a wicked sorcerer who cast fear and disgrace upon the entire kingdom with his heinous sorcery.

He took to the roles without much grumbling. Oftentimes, he didn’t perform to young Roman’s expectations. Roman would chastise his performances, critiquing every bit. He wasn’t ever scary or evil enough for a Side responsible for making Thomas scared of monsters under his bed.

Virgil would also veto actions such as climbing super high up a tree and using it as a crow’s nest for a pirate ship. Much to Roman’s dismay, the others would side with him. Logan because Thomas could break a bone if he should fall and Patton because their parents wouldn’t approve. Thus making Virgil a major downer at times in Roman’s eyes and all the more deserving of the villain title.

It wasn’t until Thomas was older, closer to middle school, that Virgil started lashing out. He refused to play along, slinking off to sulk in his room. His influence had also grown and suddenly it wasn’t just monsters under the bed anymore--the monsters were everywhere. Homework, Teachers, Friends, Family. Roman worked overtime to help Thomas escape to worlds unfettered by these fears.

Of course, back then, he presumed this was Virgil fully showing his true colors as an antagonist. Thomas himself believed it, wishing vehemently for Virgil to just disappear. It was Roman’s responsibility, nay his purpose, to make Thomas’s dreams and desires come true. He was the Fairy Godmother to Thomas’s Cinderella. So for years and years he’d pursued this dream, desperate to make Thomas happy, proud even.

Now, he knows better. He knows that Virgil is more than just Anxiety, just like Roman and the others are more than what their title implies. He is vigilant, he keeps Thomas safe from external threats. Sometimes he can be overzealous, but he means well. And shutting him out isn’t the answer. It never was. 

With all that in mind, he wonders if the Boy Terror thinks this is one of Roman’s elaborate make-believe games. Roman could easily picture a younger him coming up with a make-believe game involving himself and the others being adults. True, Thomas back then liked envisioning himself as a kid defeating the evil dragon like kids his age did in the media he watched. 

But all kids at some point wonder what it’d be like to be an adult. They imagined themselves in the most exciting professions that made a real impact on the world. Then they’d grow up and very few of them made it to such professions.

(Except Thomas of course. Roman is incredibly proud of him and his accomplishments as an Ex-Viner turned Youtuber. Yes, they are still far from achieving feats such as Hollywood or Broadway, but still! For a while Thomas had to settle for a real, sensible job such as a chemical engineer. While science interested him, it didn’t drive him the way that creative pursuits such as singing and acting had. Thomas is lucky to be able to have a platform to do what he loves. Roman tries reminding himself of this during incredibly rare moments of insecurity.)

Kid Fright must be ecstatic about this. For possibly the first time in his life Creativity is including him in a game without making him the villain. Adult Virgil doesn’t talk much about the past--the few times Roman has tried to breach the topic it’d been an instant shutdown. 

But Virgil has always cared for them, even before they’d all realized this. He must’ve taken any part Roman gave him out of a desperation to be with them and keep them safe. It sickens Roman just thinking about it. He doesn’t know how Virgil stayed strong for so long. Roman doesn’t know if he could’ve lasted a day in Virgil’s place.

He is probably also terrified and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Regardless of his age, Virgil always expects the worst out of any scenario. Even now that’s been a year since he’s been accepted among the core sides that make up Thomas. He can’t help it, it’s in his nature. Roman can’t blame him for it. One year isn’t enough to undo the damages that the other twenty-nine years caused.

One thing is for certain: if he does think this is one of Roman’s make-believe games, he must think Thomas is still a kid. And Roman’s not sure if he should let Virgil know any different. In fact, it might be best to keep Virgil distracted while the others work to find the solution to this strange vexing problem. Because he knows Virgil won’t take it well to finding his host all grown-up. He thinks that none of them would in his place.

So he’ll keep Fall Out Kid safe away in the mindscape and continue being the Prince he deserved. He’ll allow Virgil to be the hero and he’ll play all the other roles. Sidekick, damsel-in-distress, villain--if he must. It’s silly, but he’s almost buzzing with excitement at all the worlds they could explore from within the common area. Cowboys, Spaceship, Space Cowboys. The possibilities are endless!

A small hand tugs at his sleeve, tugging him away from his thoughts altogether. He looks down at the inquisitive eyes slightly shrouded by a mop of dirty blond hair.

“Yes, little prince?” He says, trying to blink away the prickling sensation in his eyes. 

He refuses to cry again in front of the Little Shop of Terror. He knows he will have to confront his bubbling guilt and sorrow at some point, but for now he must push it aside. He is used to this. Being a hero means sometimes remaining strong and not showing vulnerability to loved ones.

“M’hungry.” Virgil murmurs into his chest, little arms wrapped around Roman’s neck. It’s almost endearing with how much he resembles a baby possum clinging to their mother. Roman isn’t used to a Virgil so physically affectionate. 

Virgil is like a feral cat. You couldn’t hug or pat him on the shoulder without warning. You had to ask and very rarely did he accept, even if it came from Patton. No, the best way is to let him initiate it. Let him lean his head against your shoulder, or his leg overlapping your own during a movie night. 

You also don’t acknowledge it and by not acknowledging it, Virgil then inches his way more until it grows into a proper hug. Then he would withdraw and promptly act like nothing  happened. Like you were to forget the interaction ever occured in the first place.

Logan has a theory that it’s because Virgil is the Fight-or-Flight instincts and physical affection lowers his guard in a way he isn’t completely comfortable with. Roman now has a theory that it’s a lot more heartbreaking than that. 

“You’re hungry?” Roman asks, attempting to steer his mind out of Despairing Drive and into Present Place. 

 A small growling noise occurs and Jack Smallington ducks his head down, embarrassed.

Roman isn’t entirely surprised considering that it’s been about eight hours since they discovered approximately five-year-old Virgil in the place of grown-up Virgil. Who knows how long he’d been like that, alone in his room, before that. Virgil also rarely eats so the poor kid probably woke up hungry. 

Roman feels so stupid. If it’d been Patton or Logan watching him, the first thing they would’ve made sure is if he was hungry. Because kid or not, it isn’t in Virgil’s nature to be self-advocating. That type of stuff freaks him out. Yet another reason Roman is completely unqualified to watch over Virgil. 

“Okay,” Roman breaths in, smiling, “thanks for letting me know, big guy. To the kitchen at once!”

With that, he hoists Virgil up, settling him on top of his shoulders. There’s a squawk of surprise and Roman’s almost worried until it turns into a gleeful giggle. When Roman lets out a neigh, pretending he’s a horse, Virgil’s giggles grow louder.

“You’re not a horse,” Virgil says.

“Neigh I am!” Roman says, “I am your trusty steed and we’re embarking on a perilous-but-completely-safe journey to the kitchen!”

He treks towards the kitchen, clicking his tongue in an imitation of a horse clip-clopping along. 

“Faster,” Virgil urges, resting his hands on top of Roman’s head.

“Faster?” Roman asks, almost stopping in surprise. 

“Yeah!” Virgil insists, “We gotta get there as fast as possible before any monsters come and eat us!”

“Never fear,” Roman says, “For I shall get us there before any monster even thinks of gobbling us up!”

With that Roman quickens his pace, ensuring he had a firm hold onto Virgil to keep him falling off. 

 “Faster, faster, faster!” Virgil chants in an anxious yet excited tone, “I think I see one!”

“Oh?” Roman turns his head back, “Oh, I see him too! Neigh, we better hurry!”

There isn’t an actual monster there. No sharp fangs or numerous eyes glaring menacingly in their direction. He can’t tell if Virgil is making up a game or if he actually believes there is one there. Either way, Roman is Creativity. If there’s one thing he knows best, it’s how to combat imaginary foes. Such as reaching the threshold of the kitchen.

With one great bound, he makes it onto the black-and-white checkered tiles.

“Aha! Now no monsters can attack us while we feast in the dwelling of this noble kitchen!” Roman grins, setting Virgil atop the kitchen counter before jumping up to sit beside him.

Virgil beams up at him, face wide with utter delight and awe. Roman is left dumbfounded at this. Even as a kid, Virgil had been very closed-off with his emotions. So shy and distrustful of everyone and everything. But here he looks at Roman like he’s some great hero or something.

 ‘How,’ Roman wonders, ‘how can you look at me like this when I’m the obstinate villain of this story?’

“Princey,” Virgil swings his legs, “won’t Dad be upset if he finds us sitting on the counter?”

Roman blinks. At first he thinks Virgil is referring to Thomas’s father until he remembers Patton also goes by Dad. For the longest time, Pat had even been insistent that was his name. In the way that young children believe their parents’ real names really are Mom and Dad. 

“Well,” Roman says, offering a pinky, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Okay.” Virgil hesitates before interlocking his tiny pinky with Roman’s.

“Excellent! Now what would you like to eat?”

“Ummmm, I--I don’t know.” Virgil bites his lips, eyes flickering around the kitchen. Roman’s heart squeezes at this. He should’ve known such an open-ended question would set his anxiety off. They’ve learned recently that it was better giving Virgil the option of clearly-defined choices rather than vague ones.

“Would you like grilled cheese or spaghetti?” He asks kindly instead. 

“Grilled cheese? With applesauce?” Virgil doesn’t meet his gaze, as if afraid Roman will condemn his choices.

Roman smiles, “Your wish is my command.” 

He could’ve just snapped the food into existence right then and there. A few years back, it would’ve been enough to suffice. But as much as the Sides influence Thomas, the same holds true the other way around. Thomas once saw a fanart of Patton cooking breakfast for the sides and the idea stuck.

 Now Roman could still summon fully prepared meals but they weren’t super filling. Roman didn’t mind too much; contrary to popular belief (Logan) cooking could be a very creative endeavor. As Thomas’s creativity he could make up steps to dishes and still have them turn out perfect in the end. He may or may not enjoy it simply because it frustrated Logan to no end. 

He hops off the kitchen counter, snapping a finger. Instantly cabinet doors magically open as the ingredients and the materials he needed floated out onto the countertop beside the stove. Okay, so he cheated a bit, but just because the others lacked a little imagination didn’t mean he couldn’t bend reality in a place where reality is inconsequential. 

Roman turns to Virgil, unable to hide his smile at Virgil’s gobsmacked expression.

“Here, you can help put butter on the bread,” He tells Virgil, handing him a butter knife.

Grilled cheese sandwiches are a quick and easy meal. Before too long, Roman hands the kid a plate with a plain grilled cheese cut in halves and a cup of prepackaged apple sauce. 

“Thank you,” Virgil squeaks out before digging in.

“Of course.” Roman says, resisting the urge to ruffle the Little Terror’s hair. Instead he takes a bite of his own grilled cheese. Admittedly, he went a bit overboard with his own grilled cheese sandwich; three different types of cheese with lettuce, tomato and pickles. He isn’t quite sure if he’s a fan of the pickles but ah well. So it goes when in the pursuit of creativity.

They eat on top of the kitchen counters with relative silence. Roman hums a bit between bites of grilled cheese. Halfway through, he notices Virgil sending him glances when he thinks Roman isn’t looking. The kid squirms a bit in place, his face twisting in apprehension. 

“Is there something troubling you, Little Prince?” Roman asks at last.

“Princey, where are the others? A--are they okay?!” 

Oh. Oh, of course. Roman’s heart aches knowing how much Virgil worries and cares for everyone, even at such a young age. He’s so quick to reassure him that he doesn’t even pause to think about the phrasing of his words.

“They’re perfectly fine, rest assured. Logan is shut away in his room reading like the insufferable nerd he is and Patton is simply checking up on our dear Thomas--”

“Thomas?” Virgil breathes in, eyes bright with alarm. His shoulders raise to his ears like hackles raising on a frightened cat.

It is at this moment Roman knew that he messed up.

“Virgil, wait--” Roman pleads, attempting to place a placating hand on his shoulder. 

Roman is too late. His hand meets air as Virgil disappears in front of him with a loud crackle. All that’s left is a plate of half-eaten grilled cheese clattering to the countertops and a terror that shakes the entirety of the mindscape. 

[craftypeaceturtle]

Distanced, part 1

Summary: A group chat fic! How shall these useless students cope with daily life.

Note: This is my first attempt at anything even remotely like this! I have no idea how this will turn out so feedback is greatly appreciated! Intrulogical. 

Next part here!!

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:15

Hello. This is Logan Sanders from Prof. Smith’s seminar. Do you have any suggestions for how we should go about completing the upcoming assessment?

Remus Prince: who dis

I literally just stated it. Logan Sanders.

I wear the tie.

Remus Prince: OHHH

Remus Prince: Well 1stly

Remus Prince: What’s the best planet in the solar system?

Pardon?

Remus Prince: i LitERaLlY JuSt stAtED iT

That has nothing to do with anything, we just need to get through this project.

Remus Prince: if u want to work then u have to answer

Jupiter. 

Remus Prince: cool.

Remus Prince: You’ll do.

Remus Prince: My name is Remus.

I know. We did actually swap phone numbers. We in fact discussed which topic we would be doing for over fifteen minutes in the seminar. So we have indeed met. If you continue to be obnoxious then this will be a easier project. 

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Sanders (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:22

Why did you ask that question?

 Remus Prince: I asked my brother that question and he answered earth

Remus Prince: I’ve had trust issues ever since

Roman’s favourite planet is Earth? 

 Remus Prince: HAH

Remus Prince: ye he’s an idiot

Remus Prince: I’ve gotta test everyone now.

Remus Prince: You passed btw

Remus Prince: WAIT!

Remus Prince: Do u know Ro?

Yes, he is my friend and roommate. 

Remus Prince: What was ur name again????????

You can literally scroll up and reread it. I refuse. You got into university for a reason and so you can manage my name.

Remus Prince: jk

Okay then. Do you want to discuss how we should go about creating this powerpoint?

Remus Prince: what’s there to ‘discuss’?

We can separately conduct our research however it is regrettably better to meet up in person to practise not only giving the presentation but also the construction of the presentation itself.

Remus Prince: man you just love sending essays huh

I have written out longer messages. I don’t understand the point of sending a sentence at a time and risk getting interrupted. Plus at least my texting doesn’t seem all like an assault of constant notifications. 

Remus Prince: fair

Shall we say that we should aim to get our presentation research finished by two weeks (15th). That leaves us another two weeks to construct the powerpoint, gather more research if necessary, then practise presenting. 

Remus Prince: k

GROUPCHAT: Goths, Emos, and Remus

Tuesday, 16:26

Octopussy: can I vent for a sec

Octopussy: So! I’m just sitting here. Y’know. Vibing. 

Octopussy: Then out of nowhere the nerd from my class starts messaging me about the group project that’s due a month away

Octopussy: like wtf

Octopussy: nice to know the nerd thing isn’t just appearance

Vigilant: help

Octopussy: he made a big deal about meeting up as well to do this!

Octopussy: No one in the class even cares!

Octopussy: No one is even remotely

Octopussy: Not even close

Octopussy: To thinking about that project right now!

Octopussy: We’ve got ages!

Vigilant: oh sweet jesus

Octopussy: Like! We’ve got a month!

Octopussy: AN ENTIRE MONTH

Octopussy: Like he also wants to meet up as well to practise

Octopus: Like ew.

Top-Hat-Gay: Are you done?

Octopussy: ye

Octopussy: he’s a dick

Vigilant: oh thank god

Top-Hat-Gay: Ha, as if you believe in god.

Vigilant: If it stops Re from not spamming us then I’ll believe whatever. 

Octopussy: rude

Vigilant: bitch

Top-Hat-Gay: On an actually important note, which one of you last used my nail bag?

Octopussy: me!

Octopussy: you need more green 

Top-Hat-Gay: No I fucking don’t!

Top-Hat-Gay: There was an entirely new bottle in there!

Octopussy: I said what I said.

Top-Hat-Gay: I hate you. 

Octopussy: Thank bby

Octopussy: ALSO!

Octopussy: I found out the nerd also lives with Ro.

Top-Hat-Gay: So?

Vigilant: hE’S FORBIDDEN

Top-Hat-Gay: Wait so the nerd is Logan?

Octopussy: He is!

Octopussy: not that it seems to be having any effect on Ro. he’s as dense as a brick.

Top-Hat-Gay: I saw him today going into Remy’s. 

Vigilant: Why are we even talking about him

Vigilant: Like who gives a shit.

Octopussy: dunno

Octopussy: just thought it was weird

Top-Hat-Gay: Maybe you should switch partners. Especially if he wants to meet up at some point.

Octopussy: nah

Octopussy: not worth it

Top-Hat-Gay: A teacher wouldn’t care. They only want to see good grades. They won’t mind moving stuff around for you.

Octopussy: He seems harmless. 

Vigilant: you literally called him a dick after one conversation.

Octopussy: he is a dick

Octopussy: he seems stuffy but just a nerd through and through. He’s not going to be a prick or anything.

Vigilant: This isn’t really about him. He already got you talking about you know who in your first ever conversation. Maybe you shouldn’t hang around him.

Octopussy: I just thought it was interesting

Octopussy: It doesn’t mean jack shit

Octopussy: Not everything I talk about has some grand meaning.

Octopussy: I just thought it was weird that this nerd I share my classes with also lives with my bro. 

Top-Hat-Gay: And that’s perfectly fine Re.

Octopussy: soz V

Octopussy: didn’t mean to blow up in your face

Octopussy: just annoying to feel psycho-analysed 

Vigilant: soz

Octopussy: okay! 

Octopussy: that’s proof enough!

Octopussy: we can behave to each other so ice cream plz!!!!!!!!!!!

Top-Hat-Gay: JESUS CHRIST I SAID THAT AS A JOKE LAST YEAR

Octopussy: I will eat V’s posters unless you give us reward good boy icecream

Vigilant: chocolate pls

Top-Hat-Gay: jesus do you lot know how long it takes for me to put on my cape to go shopping

Vigilant: yes

Vigilant: we are precisely aware of exactly how long it takes

Vigilant: that’s why we don’t go shopping with you

GROUPCHAT: THE FAM ILY

Tuesday, 16:38

Pat-on-the-back: Heya guys, are we all in for dinner tonight?

Logan.S: I am.

YourHopesandDreams: I will be in at 7. If you could be so compassionate to push your meal back until then, I would be truly indebted to you.

Pat-on-the-back:  Fine by me!

Logan.S: I am agreeable.

Pat-on-the-back: Also Lo! Are you finished with your work?

Logan.S: I have finished my to-do list so I am available if I’m needed. 

Pat-on-the-back: No, you’re all good! I just wanted to check. It sounded like you were doing work for like four hours straight.

Logan.S: It took three hours thank you very much. 

Logan.S: So what are we doing for dinner?

Pat-on-the-back: I was thinking lasagne! 

Pat-on-the-back: also! Don’t think I’ll notice that change in topic!

Pat-on-the-back: I thought we all agreed on two hour stretches of work with a 15 min break at least. I mean... it’s even written on our calendar! There’s no way you forgot, did you Mister! 

Logan.S: It’s fine Pat.

Logan.S: Just let it go

Logan.S: I needed to get it done

Logan.S: I don’t need to be babied. 

Logan.S: I’m taking a break now. I’m okay.

Pat-on-the-back: I know, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure. As long as you feel okay then everything’s alright! How was your work anyway?

Logan.S: Fairly ordinary actually. I had to go through some of my notes and rewrite a couple of pages then I had to organise a group project due the 2nd of March. 

Pat-on-the-back: Sounds productive!

Logan.S: Thank you.

YourHopesandDreams: Ew. Group project. Who’s your partner?

Logan.S: We are in entirely different courses, why do you think you would know them?

YourHopesandDreams: Everyone knows the drama students know everyone. 

Logan.S: I’m working with Remus.

YourHopesandDreams: You should ask to swap partners. 

Logan.S: I won’t do so unless I have a genuine reason. I’ve not had any interactions with him previously and while he did seem half-hearted and obnoxious in his messages, he seems harmless. If he messes everything around then I will but I won’t make a fuss unless I have reason to.

Pat-on-the-back: That’s fair but please make sure to tell us if he pulls anything.

YourHopesandDreams: Your loss. 

.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:02

hey u awake

Nerd: What on earth are you doing up at 3am? 

Oh

Soz

Wrong number.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:12

Nerd: What is your favourite planet?

wha

Nerd: I figured it would be fair to ask your test to you. For all I know you could be as uncultured as your brother.

can we not talk about him

I dunno really

I wanna say pluto because they deserve it

but I kinda like saturn best.

Nerd: Any reason why?

Just kinda interesting

Big, lots a moons, ring. 

It’s just a cool planet. 

Nerd: Fair enough.

Do you have a reason to like jupiter?

Nerd: If I’m being honest, my science teacher absolutely adored Jupiter. I don’t know why but that memory of him ranting about how cool it was just really stuck with me. I was only about 8 years old. But I found myself agreeing with him. Back then my fascination was a lot more childish. I thought it was fascinating that since Jupiter was a gas planet it hadn’t been blown away yet. I grew up from that view but the interest never left.

ew that was almost cute.

Nerd: I concur that was very unprofessional.

WAIT

WAIT

HOLD ON

Why hasn’t Jupiter blown away!?!?!?!?!??

Nerd: Excuse me?

8YR OLD YOU IS A GENUIS 

Nerd: There’s no atmosphere in space!

But there’s pressure and junk isn’t there? 

Nerd: The pressure is pulling the mass into the centre which keeps the planet whole.

Do you think we could step on Jupiter?

Nerd: I don’t know.

I thought you knew space!

Nerd: I do biology! To get into a biology degree, I did a bunch of biology based subjects! Why would I know anything about space?

I dunno.

I guess if you look like a nerd people just presume.

Nerd: I’ve personally found it’s the confidence. If you act confident enough then everyone presumes you know exactly what you’re doing and you’re in control, no matter how out of place you look. 

I’ll drink to that!

Wait, in what situation would you have learnt this!?!

Nerd: I have a bad habit of accidentally going to the wrong class and just going along with it rather than anything else. Although I should say I did fantastic in that architectural history class. But this habit has caused some awkward situations. I have also impersonated a store manager to explain why me and my friend were there when really he ran into the warehouse searching for a kitten. 

HAH

That’s brilliant

Using your nerdy powers to overthrow society.

Does this mean you’re a liar?

Nerd: I call it ‘managing life’. 

HAH

Sounds about right.

Why are you awake at this time?

Nerd: I could ask you that.

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Day 12

Prompt: You meet your soulmate in your dreams every night.

Word Count: 3,321

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01,​​​ @spoopy-turtle,​​​ @lizluvscupcakes,​​ @more-fandon-than-friends​, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart, @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart

Logan drifted off with a smile on his face. Soon, he was met with a large room that took up two stories, a bay window that had a lovely area to curl up in, and more bookshelves than anyone could ask for filled to the brim with books on any subject he’d ever learned. Looking out the window would reveal that it was constantly pouring, a gentle rain that released a calm into the air. Upon the seat at the window was a figure in a hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head. His feet were curled beneath him as he sat back against the padded wall. He was deep in a book, lost to the world around him. 

Logan smiled at the sight of his soulmate, walking over to the window seat and the figure curled up on it. “How are you tonight?” His voice was soft, speaking before he approached. 

Virgil looked up, eyes bleary from being dragged out of the story. “Hmm?”

Logan couldn't help but laugh as he sat down next to his soulmate. He knew he wasn’t really his soulmate, just his mind's recreation of him. But he’d been assured that his soulmate acted just like his mind thought he did. Logan didn’t know the science behind it but assumed it was a defense against differences in time zones and sleeping habits or a way of letting soulmates meet, even if one has died.

“Oh, I’m doing fine.” Virgil‘s voice drew him out of his thoughts. 

Logan smiled, shifting so he was sitting with a pillow in his lap and his legs drawn up beside him. He gently patted the pillow, inviting Virgil to lay his head on it. When he did so, Logan began to run his fingers through his hair, having been told that it calms Virgil’s anxiety as it lets him know Logan is there and it feels nice. “Do you have a topic in mind for our talk tonight?” Logan asked absentmindedly.

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I could always just read to you.”

Logan shook his head, pausing to gently scratch his nails against Virgil’s scalp. “No, I don’t think I’m in the mood for that. Are you?”

“I was simply offering it. If you want to talk about the latest episode of the paranormal podcast I’ve listened to, that’s up to you.”

Logan smiled. “Sure, tell me about that.” And thus, another quiet night was spent with his soulmate in his arms.

The next morning, Logan woke to an empty bed, an empty room, an empty apartment. He got dressed, ate his breakfast, and left for work. That was the thing about seeing his soulmate in his dreams; he got used to it. He got used to seeing him on a regular basis, got used to living with him in his mind. He got used to having Virgil there. It was hard to wake up sometimes, knowing all he had to do was drift off to see him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts when he got to work, his mind switching gears to focus on the lecture of the day. He went about the morning classes productively, until he got to office hours. He’d just sat down at his desk, his door open for students, when a knock sounded. 

“Come in!” He called without looking up.

Footsteps sounded before a voice he would recognize anywhere spoke. “I seem to have gotten a bit turned around. Could you help me find Professor Engel’’s office?”

He raised his head, eyes coming to rest on a face he’d only ever seen in his dreams. He smiled. “Are you her new TA, Virgil?”

The man startled. “Have we met before?”

Logan decided to just be cheesy, knowing Virgil loved Disney and secretly loved cheesy things. “Once upon a dream.”

He relaxed, sagging against the door frame. “Great, I just found my soulmate.” He muttered beneath his breath.

Logan chuckled. “Sorry, did I startle you?” He decided to forgo the question of why Virgil didn’t recognize him as he could already see the eye bags that signaled he was not one to sleep often. 

His soulmate shrugged. “Just a little. Seriously, though,” he glanced at the nameplate on the door, “Logan, I really need to know where her office is.”

Logan nodded. “Of course. Take a left at the end of this hall and a right at the end of that one. Her office should be the third door on the right.”

Virgil smiled. “Thanks.” There was a pause as he stood there for a few more seconds. “Should I come back later to discuss the soulmate thing?”

“I’m just doing office hours right now so as long as a student isn’t in here, you’re free to do so.”

Virgil left, coming back in half an hour. In that time, only one student had briefly dropped by in between classes to ask him to clarify something from the syllabus. He made a note to change that to be clearer if he reused that particular syllabus. “Hey, you still open?”

Logan looked up briefly. “I just have to finish this note and then I’m free to talk.”

Virgil took a seat and waited, his fingers fiddling with the lid of the thermos he carried. Logan jotted down the correction on a sticky note before spinning around to stick it to the wall. He let the momentum carry him around a full rotation, coming back around to face Virgil, who was smiling at his antics. 

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

Virgil sighed, his fingers stilling. “How about that stupid law that says that once you meet your soulmate you have to move in with them as soon as possible?”

“Yeah, there’s that. How is your living situation?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve just got a small apartment. No pets, no roommates.”

Logan pulled out a notepad and began to jot things down.  “How many bedrooms does it have?”

Virgil’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Why does that matter?” His voice was defensive.

Logan looked up at him. “It matters because I’d prefer to sleep in two separate rooms as we are still practically strangers. This way, we’d be closer to roommates than soulmates and would feel no need to form a romantic relationship if we don’t desire one.” He paused, ignoring the fact that he knew he was already in love with Virgil. “Would you be more comfortable sleeping in the same bed?” 

Virgil shook his head almost too quickly. “No, two bedrooms is ideal. My current apartment only has one.”

Logan made another note. “My apartment has two bedrooms. Is yours close to anything you like, such as a favorite store, park, movie theatre, or even the school?”

Virgil bobbled his head as he thought. “Not really.”

“Mine is only a fifteen minutes drive from most things.” Logan paused as a thought hit him. “Even though my apartment sounds like the obvious choice, would you prefer to find a completely new apartment? It might feel better for both of us to move into something instead of one person moving into the other’s space.”

Virgil smiled. “Yeah, a new apartment sounds nice. You know, this is almost providence as the lease of my current apartment is almost up anyways.”

Logan wrote that down as well. “Do you have anything you are allergic to? Food, creatures, medicine?”

“I can’t have most seafood due to iodine. I’m also allergic to red fire ants. You?”

“I’m allergic to peanuts but you are welcome to have them in the house in any form as long as you make sure to label them and clean up after the mess as even just a bit of the oil on my skin can be dangerous. Other than that, I don’t think so.”

Logan searched through his drawers, pulling out a calendar. He flipped it open to the current month. “Do you have any time that’s good for apartment hunting?”

Virgil pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket and Logan couldn’t help but notice the Nightmare Before Christmas case he had on it. “Uhh, I’m free on the weekend or any time after three in the afternoon.”

They planned for the next few minutes of where they preferred the apartment to be and what times worked best for them. A few days later, they were out apartment hunting together. They found the one they wanted and applied, managing to get it on the first try. Both of their names were on the lease and they were moving in the next weekend. Logan had his friend Roman come and help while Virgil roped his brother Patton into doing so, finding out the pair were soulmates in the process.

Logan had loved Virgil for about three years now but it was quite clear that Virgil hadn’t been aware of Logan’s existence until they’d met. So, while they were sitting on the floor of their shared apartment and eating a dinner of pizza, Logan decided to ask about it. “Virgil, may I ask about your sleeping habits?”

Virgil put down the slice of pizza he’d been raising to his mouth. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“I’m sure you know of seeing your soulmate in your dreams so by all means you should have recognized me on sight, just as I did you. Have you . . .  never seen me at all?” Logan was scared. He was scared to think that Virgil had never seen him but was more scared to think that Virgil had chosen to forget about him, chosen to not acknowledge his existence within him. 

Virgil shrugged, a small almost apologetic smile gracing his face. “I don’t sleep.”

Logan’s brow furrowed as a million questions jumped into his brain. “How is that possible? You’d have to sleep eventually.”

“I have pretty bad insomnia. Only one thing seems to have helped but I haven’t been able to do that since I was small. So, I deal with it. I plan around it, drinking energy drinks and caffeine, waiting for the inevitable collapse that comes where I basically just pass out for a few hours. As I’m unconscious, I don’t dream. Thus, I’ve never met my soulmate until you recognized me.”

Logan nodded, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Is there any way I can help? You mentioned something you could do to help it?”

“No, there’s nothing you can do to help although I appreciate the offer.”

With that, the conversation changed to a different topic while Logan’s mind wandered. He wondered if there was anything he could do to help. Determined, he silently promised to be the best housemate anyone could ever ask for. He was going to be quiet whenever possible and make sure to stay out of Virgil’s way. He’d pretend to not even be there for much of the time. 

That lasted a week before the system broke down. Logan had been sitting on the couch doing some work when Virgil came home, looking even more exhausted than usual. Logan began to gather his things, meaning to move to his room to give Virgil space. As he did so, he glanced up at his roommate, who looked close to tears.

Logan instantly dropped everything he had, not caring about the scattering of his neat piles, to move over to Virgil, hands hovering. “Is something wrong? Did something bad happen?”

Virgil dropped his bag. “Do you really hate me that much?” His voice was watery and he looked even closer to tears now.

Logan paused, confusion plain on his face. “What do you mean? Why would I hate you?” His voice was as soft as he could make it, trying to be gentle with his sleep deprived soulmate.

“You always leave the room as soon as I walk in, you only talk to me when I speak first. Do you really hate me already?”

Logan shook his head. “No! I don’t hate you, quite the opposite in fact.”

Virgil sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Then why do you avoid me so much?”

“I don’t mean to avoid you. My intention was to give you space so you don’t feel like I forced you to move in with me.” Logan had no idea what to do about the sleep deprived TA in front of him so he was as sincere as possible. 

Virgil nodded before shuffling over to the couch and dropping onto it. “Don’t. Just stay.”

Logan got the hint and sat back down, beginning to fix his piles. He glanced over at Virgil every once in a while, seeing he was in the same position of sitting with his head thrown back and eyes closed. He eventually sat back as he set up his computer on his lap. It was then that Virgil tilted to the side, his head ending up on Logan’s shoulder. Logan froze, waiting for Virgil to move or say something. Instead, his roommate and soulmate just snored. 

Logan smiled, taking the opportunity to kiss the top of his head and whisper, “Sleep well,” before going back to his work.

When he woke, Virgil stirred and Logan’s hand came up to cradle Virgil’s head, quietly shushing him. Virgil pulled away entirely but still sat close. Logan put down his book and looked over at him. “Did you have a nice nap? I tried to be quiet so as to not interrupt it.”

Virgil smiled. “I dreamt for the first time in ten years.”

Logan was surprised but happy. “Oh, that’s nice. Did you enjoy the experience? I find it rather calming myself.”

Virgil nodded. “I did. Although, I do have a few questions for you.”

“I’ll answer them as best I can.”

“Did our conversation before I fell asleep actually happen or was that part of the dream?”

“You came home and got upset when you saw me begin moving back to my room. You expressed a feeling of inadequacy that I corrected as best I could. Is that the conversation you were thinking of?”

Virgil nodded. “Okay, so, how do you feel about me?”

Logan reached out, as if he wanted to cradle Virgil’s face. “I don’t want to tell you the extent of my emotions as I’m not sure you’re ready for them. I can say that I don’t hate you in the slightest.” He hesitated. “Do you hate me?”

Virgil was quick to shake his head, hand reaching out to rest on Logan's arm. “I may not have had enough time yet to accurately gauge your personality but I like what I’ve seen so far.”

Logan nodded and he felt like there was a weight lifted from his shoulders. “Okay. In that case, I think we need to establish some house rules.”

They discussed at length such things as shared spaces and personal ones, communication of needs, and communication in general. Then, as it was already getting to their usual eating time, they both made their way to the kitchen. Logan started looking through the fridge. “Hey, how was the latest episode of your paranormal podcast?” He popped his head out of the fridge to look at Virgil. “Sorry, I just realized how creepy that could sound.”

Virgil just shrugged, settling onto a clean and out of the way part of the counter. “It’s fine. I’m always willing to talk about that thing as no one else seems to care.”

Logan pulled out ingredients for pancakes before closing the door. “Well, I enjoy hearing about it and find it a calming part of my routine.” He didn’t mention that he found Virgil looked his best when he was animated and talking about a topic he enjoyed. He didn’t mention that he could watch and listen to him for hours, never getting bored of him. He didn’t  say it, knowing that it’s too soon and it would freak him out. So, instead, he listened to him ramble with a smile on his face, occasionally making comments to spur him down a different rabbit hole. 

The rest of the month went smoothly. They got to know each other over that time, Logan learning the small things that showed that Virgil was alive and not just his imagination and Virgil learning everything there was to know about Logan. Logan made sure to answer any question he had and gave him as much information as he could while doing so. 

It was toward the end of the month when it happened. Logan had just been drifting off when he heard a soft knock at his door. Sitting up, he fumbled for his glasses case and the lamp switch. “Virgil? Is that you?” He called quietly.

The door opened with a barely audible click, Virgil coming to stand in the doorway. Logan finally got his glasses on to see Virgil in his nightclothes, fingers playing with the ends of his too long sleeves. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” His voice sounded different, softer and more scared than Logan had ever heard from him. 

Logan smiled, gesturing for him to come in. “It’s alright. Is there something I can help with?”

“I can’t sleep.” It almost sounded like an apology.

Logan nodded, sitting up fully and crossing his legs beneath his weighted blanket. “Okay. Do you want me to talk with you for a bit?”’

“I was actually hoping you could . . . Nevermind, this was stupid.” He turned to go.

Logan stood, reaching Virgil in a few strides. He didn’t try to stop him, but did put a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey, no. Your needs and wants are valid. Talk to me, please.”

Virgil shrugged. “I fell asleep on your shoulder a month ago and dreamt for the first time in ten years. I don’t know, I guess I was just wondering if I could try that again.”

Logan smiled. “You want to try to sleep with physical contact?”

“Yeah, that.” Virgil sounded relieved that he didn't have to explain himself further.

“Okay. Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

In a few minutes, they were curled up together in bed. Virgil was on his stomach, head on Logan's chest, while Logan had his arms wrapped around his roommate. The lamp had been turned off and Logan’s glasses had been safely returned to their case. After being in a similar position with his imagination’s fabrication of Virgil, Logan raised a hand to card through Virgil’s hair. He realized what he was doing and stopped, putting the hand flat on the mattress.

Virgil tilted his head to look at Logan. “You don’t have to stop. That felt kind of nice, actually.”

Logan smiled, his hand going back to the familiar rhythm that calmed him even after years of doing it. They both soon drifted off like that, held in each other’s arms and perfectly content. In the morning, Virgil told Logan he’d dreamt again and they celebrated a little before they had to get to work.

Soon, that became a recurring event. Sometimes, it was three nights a week that Logan would find Virgil curled up beside him, sometimes it was less or more. After the third week in a row of this behavior, Logan had to sit down and talk with Virgil about it. They worked out that having physical contact with another human helped Virgil sleep, something about his anxiety calming when he felt protected. 

One night, Virgil was curled against Logan, who was reading aloud in an attempt to lull Virgil to sleep. Virgil reached up, his hand coming to curve around Logan’s jaw and pause his reading. Leaning closer, Virgil softly planted a kiss on Logan’s cheek and muttered, “I love you, soulmate.”

Logan turned, kissing Virgil’s palm. “I love you too, soulmate.” He closed the book and set it aside, turning off the lamp before sliding deeper into the bed and curling around Virgil. They both fell asleep, comfortable, protected, and loved.

[whereisstevethestove]

Ventricle.

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Katrina Flores (OC), Nico Flores

Relationships: Familial Logan &Virgil, hinted at Logan x Nico

Additional Tags: abortion mention, bisexual disaster logan, teen parenting, hate sex mention, logan having an emotional breakdown in a walmart, nico being a smooth motherfucker.

Word Count: 1805

Summary: Logan made a dumb decision when he was eighteen, which led him to being saddled with a difficult choice when he was just nineteen. Now he's living everyday with the consequences.(in the accidental adoption universe, but can be read as a stand alone. no prior knowledge needed)

Notes: *me, looking at the lack of nico x logan*: Fine, I’ll do it myself.  Also, I have an actual angst logan x nico fic coming out later today maybe, probably.

AO3  

@psychedelicships  here’s some logan and nico... at the end, but I promise it’s worth it.

He was nineteen, young and dumb when it happened-

Logan stared down at the sleeping boy in his arms, a newborn that was only five hours old, with a shock of black hair that was reminiscent of Logan’s baby photos.  He was the only one awake, his ex also asleep from the sheer toll of birth on her body.

She had wanted to keep him, and then, now that Logan was holding the infant, she had admitted that she was going just… throw him into the foster system and hope that someone wanted him.  Logan hadn’t wanted to keep the child, he’d begged her to have an abortion, but he’d promised in the end to still pay child support if that’s what she wanted.

But now…

Now he was holding his son.  She didn’t want him, he looked too much like his dad, and Logan could feel his own heart tearing apart as he thought of giving him up.  

His ex stirred and Logan looked up as she opened her eyes, a look of displeasure on her face.

“You’re looking at it all weird.”

Logan smiled softly down at the infant.  “I know.  He’s beautiful.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not a teen mom.”

“You told me that you don’t want him.”

“And I don’t.”  She looked up at the ceiling of the hospital room and sighed.  “Where did we go wrong Lo?” Lo.

Ah yes, the nickname that she’d called him for so long, when they were first dating junior year in highschool.  Logan used to look back on his past with fond memories, but now everything was tainted the smallest bit darker with the realization that he had, in fact, cut his younger phase short.

“It was the drunk hate sex, I’m sure.”  He responded and she laughed.

“I can’t take him.  I want a life Logan.”

Logan nodded.  “I’m sorry.  But if I may?”

“May what?”

The infant yawned in his sleep and Logan’s heart broke again.  “I’d like to take him.  You won’t have to pay child support, we can go our separate ways and never talk again if you want, but goddamnit, I want to raise him.”

She shot him a rueful look.  “Take him.  After I’m discharged, I never want to see you again though.”

“Of course.”  Logan held back his happiness, but his face betrayed him and even she knew as she watched him hold the infant just a bit closer.

Maybe a part of her wondered how someone like Logan could have ever loved that deeply.

Maybe a part of her didn’t care.

…

Logan had a harder time the next morning convincing the nurse who was filling out the paperwork to put him down as the provider.  After all, the kid was supposed to go straight to adoption, and now the father wanted him.

Not to mention the whole naming thing.  She was less than impressed when Logan told her that he wanted the infant to be named Virgil.  

Logan won both battles and after a talk with Virgil’s doctor, he was heading out to his car with the infant safe in a carrier, which he buckled in before getting in the driver's seat and leaving.

…

He had no idea what he was doing.  Virgil was sitting in the shopping cart child spot, chattering happily in the gibberish that only babies spoke as Logan had an emotional breakdown in front of the baby food.

It’d been six months since Virgil had been born, and according to online and the various books he’d read, advice from his mother and also from his great aunt, the kid should be fine starting solids, but he didn’t know which.

Virgil babbled something and a tiny hand patted Logan’s hair.   He looked up and Virgil giggled before reaching for his glasses.  Logan leaned his head back a bit.

“Virgil, we’ve discussed that you cannot gnaw on my glasses.  You have a teething toy or a pacifier if you’d like.”

Virgil clapped.

There was a gasp behind him and Logan looked back to see a woman, who was grinning at the pair.

“Is that your son?”  She walked up to him and cooed at Virgil.  “How old is he?” “Six months.”  Logan said tiredly as Virgil clapped again and the woman smiled.

“He’s clapping so early.  Most don’t for a good while.”

Logan pumped a tired fist in the air.  “Wonderful.”

“I’m Katrina, I’ve got some little ones at home, it can be tiring.  How old are you? You look a little young to be this sweetie’s daddy.  What’s your name?”

Logan held out his hand for her to shake.  “Logan Alt, nineteen.”

“Oh!  Is your lucky bride at home?”

Logan bit his lip and looked down at the floor of the supermarket.  “Ah, no.”

Katrina seemed to freeze for a moment, but it was fleeting enough that Logan ignored it as she looked up at him.

“Six months you say?  He should be in prime time to start solids.”  When Logan nodded, she seemed to straighten up.  “Would you like some help with a list of foods that you can start him on?  I also have a wonderful book in my car I can grab you.”

Logan stared at her.  

Then he burst into tears and Katrina pulled him into a hug, rubbing a hand soothingly across his back.

“Hey darlin, I know how hard it can be, having a young one so early.”  

Logan nodded into her shoulder and she pulled him back to arms length, a soft smile on her face.  “You’re gonna be the best dad this kiddo ever has.  Let me help you get him some starter foods and then I’ll give ya my number and you can call me on my phone whenever.  We sure are damn lucky for these samsung flip phones, aren’t we?”

“Thank you…”  Logan stuttered out as he wiped at his eyes.  Katrina nodded and gave him another hug before turning to Virgil and patting his head. 

“Hey buddy.  I’m here to help your daddy, okay?”

Virgil babbled something and mirrored her smile.  Katrina gave him another gentle pat on the head.  “Thank you for letting me know that very important thing.”

Logan looked down at Virgil.  “What’d he say?” Katrina’s response was simple.  “That he loves you very much.  Onward to the bananas!” …

Katrina and her family were there when Virgil first waddled up to Logan, and said his first word.

“Space!”

Logan blinked as Virgil made grabby hands, but he complied and lifted his son up into his arms.

Katrina leaned over.  “Looks like you have a little science nerd.”

Virgil reached out and excitedly patted Katrina’s shoulder.  “Space!”  He crowed out and Logan couldn’t help but grin as his now one year old excitedly chirped the word again, squirming in Logan’s arms.

“Looks like you might be right.  Would you like down?”  Logan asked and Virgil nodded vigorously.

Logan set him down.  Virgil laughed and clapped again before looking up at his dad with glee.  

“Space!”

“That’s right.”  Logan nodded solemnly.  “Space.”

Virgil waddled off to where Katrina’s other kids were playing, and the group easily parted to include him.

“Kat.. thank you for inviting us to your Christmas celebration, you didn’t need to.”  Logan looked away from Virgil and she shrugged.

“Lo, with your mom’s passing in November, you told me that you didn’t have anywhere to go, of course I’d offer you my home.”  Katrina picked at a loose thread on her sweater.  “Virgil deserves a good first Christmas, and you need social interaction.”

Logan laughed softly.  “I guess you’re right.”

“I always am.”  Katrina crossed her arms.  “I need to go check on my husband, but I’ll see you around.  Try talking to my younger cousin.”

Logan looked around the room.  “Where are they?”

Katrina pointed to a man Logan’s age, who was sitting on the couch, surrounded by the stuffed animals that the other kids were bringing to him.  “Nico Flores.  He’s single.”

She winked and Logan rolled his eyes at her fondly before heading over to the couch.  Nico looked up from the kid who was speaking to him, a grin splitting his face.  “Hey!  I could use some company!”

The kid that he’d been talking to rapidly fired something at him in Spanish and Nico laughed before responding in kind as Logan carefully moved the stuffed animals and sat next to him.

Once the kid had gone back to the others, Nico held a hand out for Logan to shake.

“Nico Flores.”

“Logan Alt.”

“That your son?”  Nico pointed to Virgil, who was sitting on the ground as another one year old passed him blocks, which he promptly threw down with a laugh.

“Yeah, how’d you guess?”

“He’s the whitest child here.”  Nico ran a hand through his hair and grinned at Logan.  “You’re extraordinarily pale.”

“It’s the german from my father’s side.”  

“Ah.”  Nico laughed as a girl brought him another stuffed animal, taking one from the pile on the ground at his feet as she switched them out.

“Thank you Tio!”

“It’s just Nico, you know that Gemma!” 

Gemma gave a screeching laugh as she ran off.   

“So, how’d you meet my cousin?”

“I had a bit of a rough time finding Virgil, that’s my son, some food as he was about to start solids and I’ve never had a child, so I was unsure of what to buy him and she helped.”  Logan smiled as Virgil looked up to find him, getting off the ground to waddle over and hold his hands up.   He picked up Virgil, who pulled his glasses off his face and held them out to Nico.

“Space!”

Nico took the glasses and nodded seriously.  “Space.”

Virgil, pleased, wiggled out of Logan’s grip again, but not before stealing a stuffed animal from the pile.

Nico handed him his glasses.  “He’s sweet.”

“Indeed.”  Logan smiled fondly before shaking himself out of it.  “So, what brings you here?”

“Kat invited me because, and I quote: ‘There’s gonna be a hot boy here, I swear it.’”  Nico grinned at him.  “She wasn’t wrong.”

Logan felt the blush start to creep up his face and he swallowed nervously.  “Oh?”

“Yeah.  It’s a pity I don’t know his number.”  Nico leaned back on the couch and shrugged.  “It’s also a pity that there’s not really any mistletoe nearby, the cat’s allergic.”

Logan felt like he was gonna die.

“Guess I’ll never know.”

“Ifyoureallywantmynumberyoucouldhaveit.”  Logan blurted out in a rush.

Nico gave him a blinding grin.  “Sounds like a date.”

Yeah, Logan had made some dumb decisions in his teenage years.  But if it had led him to a warm Christmas party, with a cute boy his age next to him and an adorable son playing with his friend’s kids…

Was it really dumb?

[littleboy-logan]

Thumb Sucking

A little Logince fic with cg!roman and agere!logan because why not :3 they’re cute

Summary: Logan won’t stop sucking his thumb, and Roman wants to figure out a solution

Characters: Logan, Roman, Remus

Pairing(s): logince (platonic or romantic)

Warnings: uhh fluff? I guess? Lemme know if I missed anything!!

Word count: 494

~

Roman had been Logan’s caregiver for a couple weeks and he noticed a pattern in his regressed behaviour. Whenever Logan regressed out of stress, or involuntarily, he would suck his thumb.

This didn’t happen often, but recently it had been happening more. Roman didn’t want Logan to continue the habit, as it wasn’t healthy, but wasn’t sure what to do about it. What made it odd was Logan’s regressed age; he never regressed younger than seven.

He tried covering Logan’s thumb in vinegar but that only made him cry, which made Roman feel rather guilty. He wasn’t sure how else to solve the problem, though. He went to the only other regressor he knew.

“Get him a pacifier, doofus,” Remus said, as though it was obvious.

“But he regresses to seven, seven year olds don’t use pacifiers.”

Remus shrugged. “Regression is weird. I go down to three years old and I can still walk and talk just fine. It depends on the person and what they need.”

Roman supposed that was true. Perhaps he should get Logan a pacifier.

“But what if he doesn’t want one? What if he doesn’t like it?”

“Then get him those baby chew toys, what’re they called? Teethers?”

Roman sighed and gave a sharp nod. “Alright. Thanks, Remus.”

“Sure thing. Hope it goes well, bro.”

Roman got to work summoning the perfect pacifier for Logan. He thought about everything he knew about Logan as a regressor, which admittedly wasn’t much yet. He loved Bill Nye, dinosaurs, space—

Of course. Roman had the perfect idea.

He drew out the idea he had in mind so he could visualise it perfectly. He spent at least an hour on it before summoning it. He smiled brightly at his hard work.

Now to give it to Logan.

He waited until the next time Logan stress regressed. He was sitting in the living room in his rocket pyjamas, sucking away at his thumb. He saw Roman walk in and froze. Roman hated that.

“Hey, science guy,” he greeted gently. “I have a present for you.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Fo’ me?” he asked around his thumb, Roman chuckling.

“Indeed!” He knelt beside Logan and showed him the navy blue box with a light blue silk ribbon. “All yours!”

Logan took the box and was quick to take the ribbon off. He opened the box and gasped in delight when he saw the pacifier. It was deep blue with constellations on it — which Roman decorated with a star map for reference — and there was silver bedazzling along the edges. There were decorative letters that said “star”, because Logan was Roman’s little star.

“You like it?” Roman asked, anxious for the answer.

Logan shoved the pacifier in his mouth and wiggled in place, waving his hands about excitedly. Roman smiled, taking that as a yes.

Logan flung himself at Roman and they hugged. At least now Logan was happy and wouldn’t resort to sucking his thumb anymore.

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

For the love of vocab cards.

Soo... another story written for @analogicalweek :D This is for day 5, prompt: Vocab cards. This again is a bit longer than my previous ones, but hopefully it’s worth it!

This is another College AU, Logan helps Virgil revise for an exam and leaves him a surpise to get through it on the day :) Hope you like it!

Taglist: @psychedelicships @edupunkn00b @jwillowwolf @look-ma-im-on-tv @kacklingisanart :) If anyone would like to be added, let me know! :D

For the love of vocab cards.

Word count: 1765

No warnings that I’m aware of :)

Virgil sat in an abandoned corner of the college library, just reading a textbook and finishing his third book of notes. He was desperately trying to revise for this exam tomorrow, but after four hours; his brain had reached its capacity of trying to retain information. It didn’t help that it was for a science exam and he hated that subject with a passion. There were too many long words with complicated meanings that he could never remember. He also just about understood equations when it came to math, but he had no idea how to apply them to science. Virgil belonged within the Performing Arts side of college, he loved music technology in particular and he loved creating all kinds of new music with the different pieces of equipment littered throughout the department. However, if he wanted to get onto next year’s course in Music Tech, he still had to pass the core subjects of math, english and science. Despite his unbridled hatred for the subject, he couldn’t help but smile whenever he remembered that he met Logan, his boyfriend of nearly two years, in the science labs.

It was the first day of class. They were assigned seats next to each other, and despite Virgil’s anxiety telling him otherwise, they seemed to get on extremely well. Logan was wearing a button up shirt, tailored trousers and large framed glasses, and Virgil had to admit that the ensemble looked amazing on him. Whereas Virgil was in his classic purple shirt, purple patchwork jacket and ripped jeans. They could not have looked like total opposites if they tried. Eventually the teacher started the class and was monotonously trying to explain the more complex concepts of the Periodic Table. Logan must have noticed just how confused Virgil was because he began to write something down on some blank vocabulary cards, all while Virgil stared at the whiteboard helplessly. After a while, Logan tapped Virgil lightly on the shoulder and he jumped. When he looked down at Logan’s hands, he was surprised at what he saw. It was a set of about ten vocabulary cards, and as Virgil took them and looked through them all, he could see that Logan had written out everything the teacher was explaining. However, Logan’s explanation was actually comprehensible, and Virgil genuinely started to understand the work they had been given. He looked at Logan who had a small but sincere smile on his face, and Virgil almost lost his words as he stared into Logan’s eyes. He managed to shyly utter a thank you to Logan while blushing an extremely bright shade of pink. Logan smiled back before turning his attention to the work before the teacher could inevitably come over and have a go at them. That’s where everything started.

Virgil was snapped out of this trip down memory lane by two hands covering his eyes. The familiar scent of aftershave and coffee reassured him about who was standing behind him. Their identity was confirmed with the light kiss on Virgil’s neck and a soft voice saying “Guess who? My Storm Cloud.” Virgil smiled and removed the hands gently from over his eyes.

“I couldn’t hazard a guess, Pocket Protector.” He turned and stood up to give Logan a much-needed hug for them both. He forgot that he said they’d meet after Logan had finished his extra revision session for the same exam. That was the only reassuring thing… they wouldn’t be able to talk or anything, but at least they’d be in the same room tomorrow.

Logan chuckled as he hid his face in Virgil’s neck. “How’s the revision going? Have you taken a break at all?”

“Horribly… I’ve been here for four hours and I still don’t understand a single word that I’m writing down. My brain is not absorbing any of this.” He sighed and was on the verge of crying. “What’s the point of me trying, Lo? I just need to accept that I won’t pass tomorrow.” He couldn’t stop a tear running down his cheek as he thought about how important tomorrow was. Logan closed the space between them, and softly wiped the tear off Virgil’s face. He lifted his chin up, making sure Virgil was looking into his eyes.

“Now you listen to me, Starlight. You are much smarter than you think, and you are stronger than you know. The main reason you’re struggling to remember things right now is because you’re stressed. You’ve cooped yourself into a small corner of this extremely large space and haven’t taken a break for a significant period of time. Let’s sit here and watch something while you drink this coffee I got you. I’ve finished my revision for this exam, so I’ll help you sort out some vocabulary cards for you to take in tomorrow before we go home. Sound good?” Logan looked at the smile starting to form on Virgil’s face and knew that he was okay. Virgil nodded as they sat down, and he snuggled up against a nearby wall with his coffee and took a sip while waiting for Logan.

“Ahh, you know my coffee order?” Virgil asked in a flirty voice as Logan set up his laptop and put on an episode of Parks and Rec. “Of course I do.” In a voice that made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

As they watched the episode, Logan ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair and kissed his forehead at random intervals because he loved how Virgil smiled every single time. When the coffee was finished, Logan got up and pulled over a chair to the table so they could finish the last bit of Virgil’s revision. They worked for an hour and Virgil felt more confident when he could answer the questions Logan asked him, that made him feel so much better.

“Alright, do you want to go now? I think we’ve covered everything. No more revising for you today, you’ve done more than enough!” Logan started to pack up Virgil’s things and Virgil looked relieved to be leaving.

“Yes please! I don’t think I could do anymore if I tried anyway. I really owe you for this, love. Let me go put these extra books away, I’ll be back in a minute.” He smiled and quickly kissed Logan before taking the books back to the shelves.

“Tell you what, write a song for me on your crazy music gadgets and we’ll call it even, okay?” Logan called out after Virgil as he walked away.

“You have a deal!” Virgil called back. He smiled and waited until Virgil was completely out of sight before grabbing some blank vocabulary cards and wrote on them furiously. He attached them to Virgil’s exam ones and put them into his bag just before he came back around the corner. Virgil stared at his boyfriend with a playful glare, knowing something suspicious had just happened, but then laughed before leaving the library hand in hand with his boyfriend going to Logan’s car.

They pulled up outside Virgil’s house, he grabbed his bag and Logan walked with him to the door. “Alright, so keep everything in your bag so it’s all in there for tomorrow. Get some food and watch something funny okay? I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He kissed Virgil gently, “I love you.” He turned to walk to the car, but Virgil pulled him back to kiss him again.

“I love you too! Thank you for today. I promise the song I’ll write for you will be the best one yet.” They both smiled and Logan reluctantly pulled away to head home. He still had some revision to do after all.

Morning came all too quickly. Virgil was feeling incredibly nervous as predicted, but he managed to have some breakfast and waited at the front door for Logan to arrive. He saw the car pull up and Logan beeped the horn twice as he normally did. He got out of the car and waited for Virgil to run up for their morning hug. He spun him around a couple of times which made Virgil laugh and kissed him.

“Are you ready to go? Everything is going to be okay. I promise.” Logan said with the most reassuring smile that made Virgil feel safe and secure.

“Yup. Might as well get this over and done with!” He smiled and got into the car. They turned the music up and sang along at the top of their lungs. Virgil would never admit that singing along to cheesy pop songs was his ultimate way to calm down.

They got to college and signed in before sorting their things and heading towards the exam room. Logan gave him a quick hug and they walked into the room together before finding their seats. They both looked amused when they realized that they were sitting next to each other, one row apart. Virgil took the opportunity to look the vocabulary cards over before they were allowed to start. He looked puzzled when he came across some that definitely weren’t there yesterday. His heart swelled when he read them one after the other.

‘You are amazing.’ ‘You are the smartest, most talented person I’ve ever met.’ ‘You can do absolutely anything the world throws at you. I know you can.’ ‘I’m so proud of you.’ ‘I love you to the ends of the unknown universe and back.’

 Virgil couldn’t hide his smile as he held the cards as close to his heart as possible. He turned to Logan who had clearly been watching him the entire time. He mouthed thank you at Logan, who winked in response. Just like that, they announced the start of the exam and Virgil immediately felt like he could do this. They both sneaked loving glances at each other throughout, a silent and unnoticeable gesture of encouragement. Then it was all over, and the relief was almost overwhelming.

When the results came through a few weeks later… Virgil was ecstatic to know that he passed, and unsurprised that Logan got full marks. He knew that without those vocabulary cards Logan made, he would never have believed in himself enough to do everything he could to pass the crucial test. Despite being complete opposites when they met, Virgil knew that now they were two halves of the same coin, they completed each other perfectly. There was only one thing left to do now…

He had one hell of a song to write for the one and only love of his life.

[sandersstudies]

Espressoly for You - Chapter One

Coffeeshop AU, you all wanted it, and I delivered. Hope there’s more coming but you guys know I’m historically unreliable with regular updates so here’s hoping! No trigger warnings for the chapter, just good clean coffee. 

***

Virgil was halfway inside the fridge when he heard the bell on the front entrance ring. He scooped a jug of milk under each arm, slammed the fridge door with his foot, and shuffled awkwardly back into the cafe. 

Logan was at the register, making small-talk with Wendy as she ordered her two usual black coffees. He glanced up with a split-second smirk as Virgil emerged from the storeroom. 

“Will that be all for you, today?” Logan asked.

“Yes, thank you, dear,” Wendy said, fumbling in her change purse. “Oh, wait, I’m so sorry, do you have the blueberry muffins today?”

“We do,” Logan said. “They only came out of the oven an hour ago.”

“I’ll take two,” Wendy said. “My grandkids love your muffins.” 

Logan turned around to wrap the muffins and stole another stare at Virgil, who ducked to hide his face in the mini-fridge as he put away the milk. He made a show of rearranging every jug inside so the labels faced out, and Wendy was toddling out of the cafe by the time he stood back up.

“You sure were in a rush to put away the milk,” Logan said.

“Just trying to get stocking out of the way,” Virgil said. 

“I don’t think so.”

“Think what you want.”

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend to come back.”

Virgil felt his face flush hot, and ducked back down to rearrange the milk all over again. “He is not my boyfriend, and if you ever suggest anything like that…” He hoped his glare, flashed over the top of the fridge door, finished the sentence for him. 

“Okay, okay,” Logan said, turning to stare out the front windows. “Oh, there he is now!” 

Virgil winced as he thumped the back of his head against the inside of the fridge. He rubbed his scalp as he stood up more slowly and saw that there was no-one in front of the store at all. Logan had a self-satisfied grin on his face that Virgil would have liked to wipe off. 

“It’s perfectly alright to like someone,” Logan said. “Have you finished sorting the fridge by the Dewey decimal system?

“I’ve never said one thing about that guy,” Virgil retorted, ignoring the sarcasm of the question. 

“And that’s exactly why I know you like him,” Logan said. “You love to gossip about customers but every time he’s in here you get awfully quiet. And you can’t ring in his order without stuttering.”

Virgil was guilty of that. Of course, it didn’t matter. That was one order he had memorized by heart. Large cinnamon oat milk latte with extra cinnamon-sugar on top. 

Logan strolled to the espresso machine and started steaming the milk for his usual café au lait. 

“I’m going on my break,” he said. “Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

Virgil couldn’t think of a retort as Logan finished his drink and vanished into the storeroom. The door swung shut behind him. Virgil took a cloth and began to wipe down the counters, and kept one eye on the windows. He’d finished half the cafe when Terry, a regular, appeared in the door of his office building across the street. Virgil was already pulling the espresso for Terry’s usual americano by the time the bell at the front of the cafe chimed. It felt good knowing the regulars and being confident with the espresso machine. It had taken weeks before Logan trusted him in the cafe alone, and months before Virgil trusted himself. Now, everything was second-nature. Virgil handed Terry his drink and, when Terry swiped his card, Virgil reminded him that with only three more visits he’d have another free drink.

“And that should be about this time tomorrow,” Terry joked. Virgil mustered an authentic smile as Terry chuckled himself out the door, americano in hand. Terry could be counted on to visit two, sometimes three times a day, morning and lunchtime, and often as he left work just before the cafe closed. 

Virgil’s cinnamon-latte visitor was, unfortunately, not so reliable. Virgil didn’t work on Mondays or Tuesdays, and Cinnamon Boy

Oh no, I can’t start calling him that.

Cinnamon Guy never came in on weekends. He and his posse dropped by after afternoon class during the week before taking the bus back home, or at least Virgil had picked up that much from “accidentally” overheard conversations while sweeping. At least one of the group was almost always wearing the local university’s swag, so he knew which college they attended too. Sometimes they propped up study sessions on one of the cafe tables, notebooks sprawling. At least one of them was studying science, judging from the textbooks, but Virgil wasn’t sure which one. 

Over the past year of working in the cafe, he’d gotten better at starting small-talk at the register and over the espresso machine, but he always seemed to clam up when that group was around, only managing to stutter out a greeting and a total, if that. The three boys were almost always wrapped up in their own conversation, though, so it didn’t matter much. 

It was Wednesday now. Logan said he’d seen them on Monday, but there was no sign of them yet. A pair of girls, one of them wearing a university sweatshirt, appeared outside the window and came inside. The bell jingled and Virgil found himself spacing out as he rang up and made their lattes.  One of the girls tipped a dollar, and they both left. 

The lull between the lunch rush and after-school rush was dragging on, and Virgil realized he couldn’t wait for the unpredictability of spring break. Next Friday, university classes took a week off, and students in town with no class filled coffee shops during the day, and house parties at night. Virgil poured himself a black coffee. This job was giving him caffeine tolerance the likes of which he’d never imagined. The largest cup the cafe offered, filled to the brim with strong french-pressed coffee, barely lifted his eyelids anymore. During lulls, he and Logan had been known to take shots of espresso like liquor as a daily ritual. 

Virgil sipped his coffee absentmindedly, and hunched behind the register to begin a doodle on the side of an empty coffee cup. The curvature made clean lines impossible, but he managed a rough sketch of the building across the street, and was just beginning to outline windows when the cafe bell chimed. Virgil straightened.

“I told him I don’t care anyway, spring break starts next week.” 

“You’ll care when finals week creeps up on you.” 

“Well, it’s not finals week now, is it?”

Virgil fumbled for something to do so he wouldn’t seem to be spying on the conversation, and turned to the coffee pot immediately behind the register to press buttons that did nothing. 

“It’s a difficult class, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I took it last semester, it wasn’t that hard.”

When the three boys approached the register Virgil pretended to have just noticed them.

“Oh, hello, what can I get started for you guys?”

The first boy, clad in a leather jacket despite the growing spring warmth, didn’t even have to look at the menu. 

“Large iced coffee with light caramel, light cream, please.” He was already sliding his card into the reader, having heard his total many times before.

“Great, and looks like you only need one more visit before you’ll have a free coffee reward!” Interacting with customers using canned lines sure had gotten easier with time. It was only difficult when a customer tripped him up… Virgil made direct eye contact with the second boy to avoid looking at the first one.

“These two will both be on one ticket,” the boy said. He was dressed more practically in a university t-shirt of white and red, with clashing oversized athletic shorts in black and green, and the logo of a local high school. “I’ll have a black coffee with five sugars.” He extended his fist and dropped a wadded-up five and what seemed like a pound of coins into Virgil’s outstretched hand. “And whatever he’s having. Keep the change, bro,” he said, slapping the other boy on the shoulder before he strode away. He took a sugar packet from the condiment station. 

“Large cinnamon oat milk latte with extra cinnamon-sugar on top,” the other boy said as Virgil kept his gaze affixed to the register screen.

“Eight-fifty,” Virgil muttered, unfolding the five and beginning to count out the coins. He felt the customer’s eyes on him, tried to count faster, lost his place, and started over. He tried to muster a haphazard comment about the nice weather, failed, and swallowed.

Thankfully, most of the coins were quarters, and there were still almost two dollars left over afterward, what seemed like an hour later, though it was really less than a minute. Virgil extended them and tried to drop them into the other boy’s hand neatly, but two quarters clanged onto the counter, and one went rolling in a dramatic run for escape.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” Virgil said, trying to slap the quarters under his hands. The other boy moved at the same time, and Virgil felt their hands brush together on the counter.

“No, no, it’s cool,” he said. “I was just going to make it a tip, anyway.” He let the coins clink into the jar.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s my brother’s money anyway. Thanks!” He raised his hand in a friendly salute before hoisting his backpack higher onto his shoulder and striding toward the table with the other two boys.

“Gosh, Roman, embarrassing the barista by dropping shit everywhere,” the brother said  before emptying his sugar packet directly onto his tongue. Roman. Virgil would file that away. He started steaming the milk and pulling the espresso shots for Roman’s latte. It was a strange name, but better than thinking of “Cinnamon Guy.” Waiting for the shots, he poured coffee for the other two boys and set them on the counter, where they retrieved them. 

He constructed the latte a little slower than usual, and noticed when he set the cup on the counter that Roman was facing away from him. Virgil mustered his voice and said, “Hey, I’ve got that latte here for you.”

Roman turned around. “Hey, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Roman turned away again, and as Virgil began searching for something to do with his hands, Logan emerged from the door to the back room.

“Busy?” he asked with a knowing grin. “Anything interesting while I was gone?”

“I’m going to brew fresh coffee.”

Logan smiled knowingly.

[willowaudreykeyes]

Kinda Random Sides Headcanons Of Mine

- Patton is AceAro and he only found out after talking to Logan about it. He loves everyone like they are his child except Logan; who is like the ultimate bestie to him. 

- During his talk with Patton, Logan learnt that he is Demiromantic. He swore Patton to secrecy after tearing up because it lifted a weight off his heart after saying that he is homosexual for years now. This has caused him to research everything about sexuality in case any of the other Sides ever need help with it.

- Remus has known that he is asexual for years now and both Janus and Virgil know this about him. He told Roman years ago, but he wasn’t believed so he didn’t bother mentioning it again.

- Roman is Pansexual but is incredibly insecure about it as he sees that as the Romantic side, he is ‘supposed’ to have the same sexual attraction as Thomas. Only Janus knows this and he has zero idea on how to help.

- Logan wants to dye his hair dark blue and purple like a galaxy but is afraid of being seen as immature! Also put some star decorations in his hair! He loves the stars SO DANG MUCH-

- Logan helps Janus with his shedding. Remus helps whenever Logan is busy with Thomas, but the Logical Side has been helping him since before Virgil was a Light Side. No matter how much Janus tiredly threatens tells Logan to stop caring because hes a Dark Side or whatever; Logan stays and helps.

- Roman and Remus are touch starved. If one is feeling it badly, the other often feels it too.

- Only Patton and Janus knew King Creativity and they never have, or will, talk about him. Ever.

- Remus loves Disney songs and all those kinds of songs that seems more like a ‘Roman’ thing to like; but he too sings Anastasia’s “Once Upon A December” and Coco’s “Remember Me”. Who do you think gets them stuck in Thomas’ head? Those count as Intrusive Thoughts too.

- That said, Roman does let himself sing a more ‘Remus-y’ song whenever he’s DOUBLE sure that he’s alone. 

- Roman thinks that Logan and Patton are perfect beings with perfect ideas for Thomas and that he ruins them with his own not-so-perfect ideas. Seriously, this boi has to learn that none of them are good or bad...

- Remus is the one to go to if the others are having an anxiety/panic attack. Why? He’ll shove a cup full of ice cubes at them to chew on (or get a lemon if they can’t handle the cold), find their perfect movie/song because he somehow found that out, and he will not let them be alone. Want hugs? He’ll cling to them like an octopus. Want some space? He’ll do something off to the side that always lets them know he’s there. 11/10 distraction for the brain.

- Janus can and will use six arms to hug others. Every time. He is the best hugger out of everyone and they had a competition that says so. He keeps the medal Roman had made for the winner in his room.

- Their bedrooms and the rooms that Thomas can visit are two different rooms. The rooms that enhance their specific traits are usually used to help push Thomas into a certain direction; such as Logan using his room to help him think more logically.

- Janus hates his room because it causes him to lie ALL the time. He wants to be known as self-preservation as well as Deceit but even his own room is fighting against him. So he rarely goes there and hangs out in his bedroom instead.

- Roman painted everyone’s bedroom doors. Once he and Remus grow closer, the doors suddenly get more intricate and Roman (after debating with himself about it) gives Remus the credit he deserves for it.

- After said door painting; Logan gets the twins and asks them to paint his room for him. Something new that won’t distract him. He half expects it to be painted like a science lab or something, but instead he finds the walls to be the same colour while his ceiling is now a galaxy that blends halfway down the walls. It distracts him from his work sometimes; but he doesn’t seem to mind and he’s more productive in the long run.

- Remus baked with Patton one time and his impulsiveness helped create the Crofter Cookie™ which Logan is often caught sneaking third and fourth (secretly twelve) cookies.

- Which he shares with Janus, who secretly loves Crofters as well.

- Roman loves strawberry everything; but kiwi’s are a close second and he’s only ever told Virgil about it. 

- Logan lost a bet with Roman the same time Janus lost a bet with Remus. A week later; the other Sides, Thomas and Friends watched them perform Non-Stop. Logan as Hamilton, Janus as Burr with the twins being Eliza and Angelica. Logan got more into it then anyone thought he would.

- Janus is a huge fan of Leslie Odom Jr. and seeing him on Sanders Sides made him scream into a pillow at every chance he had between recordings. 

- Patton checks on everyone before he goes to bed. And now that Janus and Remus are more involved with Thomas, he checks on them too. The two of them have no idea how to handle this new routine because he’s just so sincere about it!

- Logan loves hugs and no one can tell me otherwise. He’s just VERY particular on how the hug has to be and he once spent three hours with Roman on trying to get the right hug. Somehow, Remus got the Perfect Hug first try.

- Janus has the floofiest of hair that NOTHING can stop. Remus often jokes about how his hair can break a sword in half. Often followed by Remus breaking a sword over Janus’ head without the Side flinching at all.

- If ANYONE is in trouble, Virgil knows about it and he ain’t afraid to punch a bitch. Or use the fire extinguisher as punching doesn’t stop fires. He’s always the first and last on the scene. 

- Remus is teaching Logan self-defence. Janus is teaching him how to dance. The Side wants to be ready for literally anything. 

- Remus loves eating bone marrow and on Thanksgiving, he’s able to debone the entire turkey. No one knows how; but he’s happy to eat that while the others eat turkey. 

- Virgil is part spider and eventually builds up the courage to tell the others. Patton is a little afraid at first, but eventually he’s got all eight legs around him in the best hug with his emo son. He’s still working on looking him in the eyes when more then two are showing...

- Virgil, Remus and Logan don’t need as much sleep as the other Sides. Logan and Virgil only need four hours, while Remus only needs two hours. While Janus likes sleeping as much as possible, which is hard to do with Remus around.

- Janus has stolen every pillow and blanket in the Mindscape and Thomas’ real house JUST to build a pillow fort. At one in the morning. They were all impressed, but also cold so now he has to share when he makes them (at a better time as well please- )

- Janus doesn’t like the feeling of anything on his face or scales; which makes looking after them difficult. He has to be reminded to moisturise them weekly and Remus has learnt not to dump slime or anything over his head because he has had an anxiety attack about it once and he never wants it to happen to him again. 

- Virgil and Janus love scalding hot showers. Patton and Roman like it rather warm, Logan likes them lukewarm and Remus loves them to be freezing cold.

- No touching Virgils hair! No touchie! He hates it and prefers light circles rubbed over the back of his hands or on his knees instead. Roman on the other hand LOVES head scritches and always melts into a Princey puddle of relaxation when he gets them.

- Lastly, if anyone ever has a Nightmare, they either go to Logan or Janus. Patton is too deep of a sleeper to wake up and help, plus he often has no clue what to say anyway, so those two help a lot. And if they have a Nightmare? They go to Remus’ room and talk with him until they pass out or they decide to survive the day on the hours that they had.

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP: CHAPTER 8

cw: mild angst, injury mention, vivisection mention, human experimentation mention, boatloads of unethical science

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // read it on ao3!!

wordcount: 7086

“This is a terrible idea,” Thomas says. It is far from the first time he has said this to Virgil, generally speaking. It is also far from the first time he has said this to Virgil regarding this specific situation. This does not deter Virgil in the slightest. Logan looks up at Virgil from where he’s curled on the lab table, newly-human legs tucked up underneath his newly-human butt. 

“I would like to learn to walk,” he says. “I think it is a valuable skill to have, even if I do not intend to live on the land for the rest of my life. If I am to return to visit, and -” Logan’s eyes flicker away from Virgil’s face and rest on his shoulder, face heating up. “- and I would very much like to, it would benefit me to be able to masquerade as a human. I find walking essential to this charade.” 

“There are plenty of humans who don’t walk,” Virgil says. “Babies can’t walk, and elderly people sometimes can’t walk, and there’s any number of disabilities that might prevent someone from walking. Walking isn’t what makes us human.” 

Logan’s eyes meet his, and Virgil fights the blush rising on his cheeks with every fiber of his being. “What is it, then?”

“Walking?”

“No. What is it that makes you human that I do not have?” 

“Jesus, Lo, I don’t think ten thousand years of human philosophy has managed to answer that, and you want me to give you an answer now?” Logan tilts his head, confused and adorable, and Virgil is talking before he realizes it, rambling and spilling words out of his mouth like tap water cascading down a sink. 

“Being human isn’t about walking like a human or talking like a human or anything like that. Humans are so vast and diverse, and - and it’s like the ocean, you know? All those creatures are so different, with different methods of eating and sleeping and breathing and living and dying, and it’s - it’s not like you can just put one label over them that will encompass the spirit of what makes the sea the sea, or what makes a human a human. It’s - it’s -” 

He pushes his fingers through his hair, greasy from two days without a shower. “It’s about your capacity to care . It’s about your ability to look at someone else, anyone else, and acknowledge that they deserve everything you do. They deserve to live, they deserve to love and grow and thrive and be . Being human, it’s - it’s about looking at someone else and knowing that inside them is a person just as complex and mysterious and weird and wild and wonderful as you are, and they’ve got just as much depth and personhood and emotion and life as you do, even though they might be your polar opposite.” 

“So being human,” Logan says quietly, “is about being able to recognize your own complexities in another?” 

“If you wanna put it like that? Yeah, I guess.” 

“I suppose I am more human than I ever realized before, then.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Virgil says, and he takes a step towards Logan. Logan looks up at him, eyes wide and trusting and open, and Virgil holds a hand out. “I don’t think it’s bad at all. I know you’re all scared of us, because of what we could do to you, but - but I hope you can trust that the Doc and I, we - we don’t want to hurt you. We don’t want to let anything happen to you. You deserve security and stability, and if we can help give you that, we will.” 

Logan studies him for a moment with bright, critical eyes, and Virgil finds that he’s unconsciously holding his breath. Slowly, cautiously, Logan lifts his hand and places it into Virgil’s, and Virgil smiles, and Logan’s face breaks into a gentle smile, and Virgil has to fight very hard not to lean in and kiss him. (He pretends that he doesn’t see Thomas standing behind Logan, making very obvious mocking heart noises.) 

He holds out his other hand for Logan to take, and Logan doesn’t hesitate to place his hand in Virgil’s. They were scaled, before, but now every place a midnight blue scale used to live has, instead, a freckle. Virgil wonders how long it would take to count them all. 

(He definitely doesn’t think about laying in bed with Logan, holding him close, breath mingling in the space between their faces, sleepily trailing his index finger over the freckles covering Logan’s entire body, connecting them like constellations. He doesn’t think about trading stories with Logan, sleepily explaining his world’s constellations and heroes and myths as Logan does the same. He doesn’t think about Logan, laying on the bed and looking up at Virgil with the same open trust he’s displaying now as Virgil takes out a paintbrush and lovingly, painstakingly, connects each and every freckle into a beautiful portrait that, even in full glory, could never hope to match or even rival the splendor that is Logan himself, masterpiece untainted.)

(Virgil does not think about any of these things.) 

Carefully, he steps backward, holding Logan’s hands and pulling gently so that Logan rises into a standing position. He’s wobbly and unsure, like a newborn fawn, and Virgil quickly shifts so that he’s gripping Logan’s forearms instead of holding his hands. “Whoa, careful!” 

“I will never get used to these useless fins,” Logan mutters, glaring at his legs. “They are so unwieldy, and I have to concentrate on moving both of them instead of just one! I do not like it. I have decided.” 

Roman snickers from his touch tank, and music rises from Patton’s. “It’s hard for baby humans to learn to walk, too,” Virgil says, ignoring the other mer and focusing on Logan. “Kids fall all the time. It’s not about never falling. It’s about getting back up and trying again. Besides, I’m right here the whole time. You don’t have to worry, I won’t let you fall.” 

“I trust you,” Logan says, simply and honest and open, and Virgil feels a little something inside of him shift at such a plain display of trust. “I cannot see you very well, but I trust you.”

“What do you mean, you can’t see me?”

“I find that anything not directly in front of my face is very . . . blurry at the moment. I have lived with this my entire life. I had my electricity to compensate for this in the water, but now I have nothing.” 

“So what you’re telling me is you need glasses?” 

“What is ‘glasses’?”

“How are we supposed to get him those?” Thomas says. “He can barely walk, and he doesn’t know enough about human culture to pass for one. As far as the government’s concerned, he doesn’t even exist!” 

“Yeah, I know that, but he needs to be able to see, Doc.” 

“You’re gonna jeopardize his existence for that?” 

“Of course not!” Virgil snaps. “I’m just saying, it’s something we have to think about if he’s gonna be spending any sustained amount of time in a human form!” He takes a careful, slow step backwards, then another, then another. Logan mirrors him with an unsteady, slow step forwards, then another, then another. 

“I just want you two to be safe,” Thomas sighs. 

“I’m not a child,” Virgil mutters rebelliously. Before Thomas can retort, Roman drapes himself over the side of his tank and offers a spine about the length of his forearm to Thomas. 

“Do you still want this?” 

“Did you fire that at the tank?”

“Nah. I just kinda wiggled it around for a while until it popped out. They get loose and fall out sometimes, it’s not a new thing or anything.” Thomas takes the red-and-white spine and steps to the nearest lab table. He pulls out a scalpel and starts to carefully dissect the spine, looking for the poison inside it. 

Virgil turns his focus back to helping Logan. “I know it’s hard,” he says, holding his hands. “The amount of injury small humans sustain when they’re first learning how to walk is truly staggering. Hold on to me, okay? I won’t let you fall too far.” 

Logan looks at him with wide eyes. “What if I hurt you?” 

“You won’t, Lo. Trust me.” 

They practice walking back and forth across the lab floor for almost an hour. Roman makes unhelpful comments from his tank, and Virgil makes rude gestures at him. The gestures are somewhat less effective than normal, because Roman doesn’t understand what “flipping someone off” means, but it makes Virgil feel better, so he keeps doing it. Logan slowly improves as they keep practicing. 

“You know what would make you better at this?” Virgil asks. Logan shakes his head. “Being able to see properly.” 

“We are not taking the newly-humanoid merman to the optometrist,” Thomas says firmly. 

“Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do with him? We can’t just let him be on land half blind, Doc!” Virgil protests. 

“We can’t just let him get captured by the local cryptid hunter because you drag him into town, either.”

“First of all, I’m the local cryptid hunter, so Logan will be fine. Second of all, he needs to be able to see!” Virgil squeezes Logan’s hands tightly before he can consciously process what he’s doing, as though intending to reassure him. Before he can panic too hard about what he’s just done, Logan squeezes back. 

“I appreciate your concern,” Logan says softly. “I think your mentor may be right. It may be too dangerous to bring me into town and expose me to copious amounts of humans. I cannot say that I am not nervous about the idea of being exposed to more of them.” 

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Virgil says, and immediately he’s swarmed with a surge of guilt. He’s basically been talking about Logan like he’s not even here, like his own opinions on what they do with him doesn’t matter, and God, how shitty does Virgil have to be? 

“I know you did not mean to,” Logan says. Virgil barely restrains a wince. 

“But I did,” he says. “And I didn’t mean to. I - I’m sorry, Logan. I didn’t mean to make it sound like we were making arbitrary decisions about you like you’re not conscious and opinionated.” 

“I am not mad,” Logan says. He looks puzzled that Virgil thinks he is. “I did not think you were maliciously attempting to control me.” He tilts his head adorably. It takes every ounce of self-control Virgil possesses (which isn’t much) not to gently squish his cheeks and kiss him senseless. (He’s not even sure if mermen know what kissing is.) 

“Well this is . . . concerning.” 

For a split, horrible second, Virgil thinks that Thomas is referring to him and the way he is very obviously ogling over Logan. His mind races to come up with some sort of defense, some explanation, but when he lifts his head he realizes that is not the case. Thomas is frowning at his laptop. 

“What is it, Doc?” 

“Get Logan somewhere he can sit and come over here. The results are back from the toxins in Logan’s net.” Roman’s entire body bristles like a sea urchin in his tank at the mention of the tank Logan was in; the color drains from Logan’s face and he goes perfectly ramrod-still. His hands are shaking, and Virgil smooths his thumb over Logan’s bandaged knuckles before he can stop himself. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, carefully guiding Logan back to the lab table. He slips an arm under Logan to hoist him up onto the table. Logan curls his hands in the hem of his shirt and very deliberately breathes deeply. “We won’t let you or your pod get hurt.”

Logan still looks terrible, and before Virgil can stop himself, he says, “Do you want a hug?” 

“A . . . hug?”

“Yeah, it’s - Christ, how do I - you put your arms around someone and squeeze, it’s a comfort thing, I -”

“I know what a hug is,” Logan interrupts. “I receive them from my dad and brother frequently.” Virgil’s face burns bright with shame. “What I meant was . . . was why?” 

Virgil blinks. “Because you’re upset. And that makes me upset, cause I don’t like it when the people I care about are upset. Hugs make people feel less upset.” 

“You care about me?” Virgil thinks about how nice it would be if the earth swallowed him whole in this exact moment. 

“Yeah. We . . . we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

Logan stares at him for a moment, and then his eyes soften and crinkle and he smiles. “Yes,” he says softly. “We are. I think I would like a hug.” 

Virgil leans forward, carefully wrapping his arms around Logan’s chest and hugging him close. Logan loops his arms around Virgil’s neck. He’s trembling, and he smells like fish and saltwater and seaweed. Virgil’s smelled some variation of this combination for the past several years, being a marine biologist and all that, and he’s largely desensitized to the way the ocean smells. But there’s some sort of undercurrent to the way Logan smells - something raw and fresh and dangerous and almost electric, the way the air smells right before a thunderstorm. 

Logan pats his shoulder gently and starts to lean back, and Virgil gives him one more gentle squeeze before leaning away. He doesn’t want to be weird about it, after all. 

“Thank you,” Logan says. Virgil takes his hand and squeezes it. 

“Yeah, Lo. Of course.” 

Roman reaches to gently squeeze Logan’s ankle, and a large, clawed hand comes up out of Patton’s tank and gently holds Logan’s hand. Virgil hurries over to Thomas and peers at the screen. “What did the results say?” 

Thomas frowns. “It’s not good. We were right, it was a neurotoxin, but there’s something wrong with it.” 

“Yeah, it was in a net that injured and almost killed someone.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s derived from natural sources, but this toxin, it’s - it’s just . . .” Thomas pushes a hand through his hair. “It has genetic markers for multiple species of aquatic life. I picked out jellyfish and pufferfish DNA, specifically.” 

“Fucking yikes.” 

“Oh, it gets worse. There’s no way this DNA could have come from a genetically stable or viable hybrid. It’s like . . . it’s like someone took the genetic sequences for the deadliest, most dangerous marine toxins they could isolate and crammed them all together to make some kind of - of - of super poison or something. They weren’t trying to make a new life-form. They just wanted to create the most toxic thing they could, and I think they succeeded. It’s a miracle this net didn’t kill Logan outright.” 

Roman makes a loud, angry noise from his tank; a melodic snarl rises from Patton’s; Logan shudders and curls his free arm tightly around himself. Virgil’s blood runs cold at the thought. “What would it take to do something like that, Doc?” 

“Whoever this was did a pretty crude job of it,” Thomas sighs. “All the splicing is haphazard, and it’s honestly a miracle they managed to make this stable enough to do damage to any organism.” 

“Still, the fact they made this . . . who knows what else they may have done?” Virgil asks.

“I don’t know.” Thomas drags his hand down his face, and he looks older than Virgil’s ever seen him. “This - this is the most unethical application of science I’ve seen in a long time. I hate to think about what else this person might be doing.” 

“What about Roman’s spine?” Virgil asks. “Any results there?” 

Thomas nods. “Yeah. Whatever’s in his spines is far less lethal than the hybrid shit in that net. It’s more focused on paralysis and incapacitation.”

“Well, yeah, I could have told you that,” Roman huffs crossly. “I use it to stun prey so that I can catch and kill it more easily. That’s what it’s for .” 

Thomas is still frowning worriedly at the spine. “Doc, what’s wrong?” 

“Roman’s poison . . . based on my analysis, in the hands of someone who can use CRISPR technology, it could be altered to produce far more devastating effects. If whoever set this net gets their hands on Roman, the experiments they run could prove disastrous.” 

“Roman getting captured at all would be disastrous,” Virgil says. He dimly notices that Roman looks shocked to see Virgil defend him. “We can’t let anyone else know about these three. They belong in the ocean, and anyone else would try and keep them prisoner on land.” Virgil’s heart wrenches at that; he’s been ignoring that Logan will eventually have to leave, and he’s not about to start thinking about it now.

“I want to run more tests on the net that Logan got tangled in,” Thomas says. “If we can break down the technology of the barbs, we may be able to trace the origins of the net.” 

“What would we do when we found those origins?” Virgil asks. Thomas exhales. 

“I don’t know exactly. I just . . . we’d have to do something. We can’t do nothing. That’s not an option.” 

“I agree,” Virgil says. Thomas smiles, and Virgil feels pride bubble up in his throat. 

“I want to compare the net toxin to Roman’s, too. Maybe comparative analysis will help me learn something about both of them.” 

“Again, you could just ask me,” Roman grouses. 

“I probably will, once I develop a detailed questionnaire,” Thomas says. “But there’s also examinations and comparisons that we can make at the molecular level that we can’t get from just talking to you.” 

“What in the name of the Seven Mother Goddesses is a molecular?” Roman says. Logan turns to him, eyes wide and curious, and the tip of Patton’s head pokes up from his tank. He has their undivided attention. 

Virgil never thought he would be trying to teach sixth-grade biology to a trio of mermen, one of whom he’s extremely gay for and another one who’s older than human civilization, but here he is. What the fuck is his life, anyway? 

*~*~*~*

“See to it that this chamber is thoroughly cleaned and sterilized in time for my next experiment. And be sure to inform the crew that I want the excess waste disposed of discreetly this time, or they will find that they have been disposed of discreetly.” 

The secretary nods, obediently sending the orders as she peels off the blood-stained rubber gloves and tosses them into the biohazard waste receptacle. “Was the experiment a success, ma’am?” 

“If by success, you mean did the poison have the effect I intended, no. However, I believe I have isolated the patch of incorrect genetic code, which means that I will be able to improve the efficacy for next time. I doubt I would have found that on my own, so in that sense, yes. It was a success.” 

The secretary notes this on her tablet. “Tell me, what is the status of our acquisition of the human subjects?” 

“Approximately 79% of the specimens you request have been corralled and sedated. They await testing in Chamber C whenever you are ready, ma’am.” 

“And the rest?” 

“Being gathered as we speak, from the usual sources.” She nods, washing her hands and switching her anti-slip laboratory shoes for her characteristic red heels. “I have an alert set to ping when the shipment comes in. I will alert you at once.” 

“Excellent.” She steps out of the lab. Her heels click satisfyingly on the floor, and she tilts her head up. “Walk with me. Run through the list of current projects and update me on the status.” 

“At once, ma’am. Which one shall I begin with?” 

“Tests of the aerosol form of the net toxin. How have the lab rats fared?” 

“Only a 50% mortality rate, but that is higher than we had initially predicted.” She hums noncommittally, and the secretary continues, pulling up the file on her tablet. She continues to talk about the status of the aerosol experiment until they reach the private office, laid with marble. 

She walks over to the windows overlooking the ocean, hands clasped behind her back. “What of the fleet of drones? Have they discovered anything yet?” 

The secretary swipes a few pages on her screen. “Not yet, ma’am. A whole fleet was dispatched to cover the quadrant where net 17-C was located, as well as the surrounding areas in case our calculations were off. A team is monitoring the feedback round the clock, and they will alert me with the most urgent priority if they find something.” 

“Excellent.” She stares out the window, lost in thought, and the secretary gathers what little courage she has. 

“Ma’am, if - if I may ask a question?” 

“You already have.” The secretary’s blood runs like ice, but she merely laughs. “Continue.” 

“Why are you so invested in relocating this net? You seem so adamant that you’ve caught something valuable, but why not set another net and attempt to catch another?” 

She is silent for a long time. The secretary swallows. “I - I did not mean to offend, ma’am -”

“Silence.” She falls silent instantly. “Have I ever told you why it was here that I set up my facility? Why it could not possibly have been anywhere else in the world?” 

“No, ma’am.” 

“My family,” she says, “used to vacation at the beaches around here. I loved the beach when I was small. I loved collecting creatures from the tide pools and seeing how they worked. One day, I saw the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life. It was a merman, with a beautiful red and white tail and spines everywhere. He was sunning himself on the beach in the early morning.” 

The secretary’s eyes widen. “I had to have him. I tried to get him to come with me, to get him to tell me how he worked, to get some of his spines, but it failed.” She rolls up the sleeve of her blazer and shows the secretary two perfect half-moons of faint, raised white scars on her arm. Bite marks. 

“That monster bit me and disappeared into the sea. I never saw him again. How dare he?!” She yanks her sleeve down and covers her arm again, snarling. “But it’s alright! It’s fine. I will find that traitorous merman again, and it will be my pleasure to exact revenge on him. I will vivisect him slowly and painfully and I will finally gain the knowledge which has been denied to me for so many years.” 

Privately, the secretary is suspicious of this plan. She isn’t sure if she believes the story about the merman, but the evidence of scars is difficult to refute. Still, she knows it’s not wise to disagree with her publicly (or even privately), so instead, she says, “That makes sense, ma’am.” 

“I hate not knowing things,” she seethes. “Knowledge is the epitome of human power. I will gain as much knowledge as I can, and then I will have the greatest weapon and the greatest shield in all of human history. I will not let some fish keep me from knowing all there is to know.” 

The secretary wonders how long this train of thought is going to keep up, and then the tablet in her arms begins to shriek. She begins swiping at the screen, frantically sifting through the sudden influx of error messages. 

“What is it?” 

“Reports from the lab - the drone monitoring squad, they - one of the drones caught something on camera -”

She whirls around, and the secretary startles and nearly drops her tablet. “Take us there at once!” 

“Yes, ma’am!” The elevator ride down to the monitoring room is tense. She can’t seem to stand still, tapping her feet and her fingers and all but vibrating with energy. The secretary bites her lower lip and sifts through the reports, trying to figure out what exactly is happening. 

She sprints down the corridor, the secretary hurrying behind her, and throws open the door to the monitoring room. Everyone in it jumps, and before she can say anything one of them throws an image up onto the wall of screens. 

It shows what looks like a young man, frowning at the feed, before swinging the lower half of his body up and around to reveal a gorgeous red-and-white-patterned tail, covered in long, sharp spines. He brings his tail down in a graceful, vicious motion, and the spines jettison from his tail and pierce through the camera lens. The feed glitches, staticky, and then cuts out. 

SIGNAL FAILED flashes across the screen in bright red letters. 

She rests her hands on the nearest table, ducking her head down. Her shoulders begin to shake, and the secretary sees every single person in the room swallow in unison. They’re all terrified, and she is too. Every person in this room is about to get fired or mysteriously vanish or both. 

Without warning, she throws her head back, and - and she’s - 

Laughing?

Wild, raucous laughter, bordering on a shriek, bordering on hysteria, the kind of laughter you’d expect to hear from a portrayal of someone who’s criminally insane in a movie. The secretary holds her breath. 

“I knew it!” she shrieks, slamming a hand down on the table. Everyone in the room flinches. “This is proof that there are mermen in this ocean, and I will have him if it kills me!” 

She whirls around to face the secretary, eyes wide and wild and slightly unhinged. “I want at least two more fleets of stealth drones dispatched to those coordinates. Get me as much information as you can. And you!” She points at a random technician. “Isolate the footage of that mer and send it to my office immediately. I want to review it personally.” 

“At - at once, ma’am!” the technician gulps. 

She sweeps out of the lab, dictating to the secretary the whole time. The secretary sends up a whispered prayer to whatever gods intervened to keep them all alive another day and hurries after her.

*~*~*~*~*

Patton has never seen the appeal of a mate. 

He is ancient. He has outlived almost every creature he has ever met. He can dimly remember being a guppy, frolicking about the ocean with the other elder mer, spying on the beginnings of human civilizations when they began to rise. Humans have always congregated around the water, he thinks, and he has seen many stages of human life. 

He has watched humans celebrate the birth of their young at the water. He has watched them come of age, watched them marry, watched them travel, watched them grow their families. He has watched their burial rites, and he has guided many humans safely to the seafloor and given them a final resting place. He has offered many a prayer to the Seven Mother Goddesses for a happy union, asked many a flying fish to guide a human soul safely to the Upper Ocean. 

He has seen pods grow and fight and dwindle and die. He has watched many, many eons of life in the ocean. Never once has he wanted to participate in the creation of more life. He does not want a mate; he has never had the desire for that kind of relationship. 

Patton knows that mates are important to some, but they are not important to him. He does not need a mate the way he needs water in his gills. His pod is very small, and he has no mate, but he is satisfied with his existence thus far. Roman and Logan may not have come from a mate, but they are no less his. 

Patton may not want a mate, but he also knows what mer are like when they want mates. He hears the way Logan and the smaller human - Virgil - speak to each other. He can sense the growing affection in Logan’s voice when he tells him what he and Virgil have done that day and defends Virgil from Roman’s criticisms and shyly tells Patton that he wants to return when he is fully healed. 

The human concept of mates is different from the mer concept. Patton knows this much. He does not know very much about human mating rituals. 

Based on what he does know, he would say that Virgil and Logan share similar tendencies. 

Patton does not particularly care about this fact. He had been quietly accepting that Logan was lost to him forever, that he would never see his guppy again, but this human rescued him. He kept Logan safe, tended his injuries and fed him and sought out Patton and Roman to bring them to Logan. He had stood in front of Patton and sworn that he would return Logan to the ocean once he was healed. Patton knows that he terrifies most humans, but this one had not flinched. His voice had been firm and strong, and he had sworn that Logan would not be a prisoner. 

There are worse humans Logan could want to mate with, Patton supposes. 

Roman sinks below the water of their shared small ocean and grumbles to himself. “The stupid human is making gross faces at Logan,” he huffs. 

“What kind of faces?”

“Gross ones, Dad! He’s like, staring at him with this stupid look and his face keeps going all weird and pink and - ” Roman’s tail bristles with indignation. Patton gently smooths a large hand down his tail, flattening the spines and soothing Roman. He trills, gently, and Roman responds in kind. 

“I suspect he would like to be Logan’s mate.”

“WHAT?!” Roman shrieks. 

“It is not nearly as bad as all that, guppy. Logan wants to be his mate, too. Surely you can see it?”

“Of course I can see it, but - but what does Logan know about mates? Or humans, for that matter?! This is a bad idea, Dad, we have to talk him out of it!”

“Why? Does Logan not seem happy?”

“I - that’s not the point!”

“I asked you a question, guppy.”

Roman’s gills flare out. “Yeah, Dad. Lo seems really happy.”

“Do you not want him to be happy?”

“I don’t want him to leave us.” Roman curls in on himself, and he looks small in a way that Patton has not seen for centuries. 

“Oh, guppy.” Gently, Patton reaches out and traces one finger along the band of light blue scales wrapped around Roman’s upper arm. “Logan loves us. If he had taken a mer for a mate, would you have the same reaction?"

“No, because that mer would just join our pod and it would be fine! But - but what if he decides he doesn’t love us anymore and leaves us for the humans?! ”

“Logan would not do that. He is our podmate, Roman. Even if he wishes to take Virgil as his mate, that cannot change the bonds that we have with him. Logan is not going anywhere.” 

“How are you so sure about this?”

“I have lived many, many centuries,” Patton says, leaning in to gently nuzzle Roman’s hair. “I have seen many matings, human and mer. I have watched their lives play out. I know that the taking of a mate does not necessarily mean the separation from one’s pod. However, if the pod is unnecessarily hostile to the mate, someone may feel the need to choose between their mate and their pod.” 

Roman bristles again. “Am - am I driving Logan away?”

“No, Roman, ” Patton soothes. “ But if you continue to be angry and disparage Logan’s feelings, he may take offense. I am not saying that you must become best friends with Virgil overnight. All I ask is that you keep an open mind about what is to happen, hmm?”

“I only promise to try,” Roman huffs. 

“That is all I can ask.” Patton shifts to coil his large tail around Roman, who lets out a soft chirp and snuggles into Patton’s chest. “I love you, guppy.”

“Love you too, Dad.” 

They doze together for a while until Roman stirs. “One of the humans is here. Not Virgil, the other one - Thomas, I think.” He shifts and swims up, poking his head and torso out of the water. Patton yawns and rises up as well, letting one of the fins on the side of his head breach the water’s surface so that he can hear what is going on. 

“Do you need to go and hunt again?” Thomas asks. “Logan’s getting hungry, and I can go get some of the fish we have in the fridge, but if you all need to hunt anyway you might as well go, y’know?” 

“How would we bring the fish back to Logan?” Roman asks. Patton notices that while his tone is cool, he is no longer being outright rude. 

“I have a woven bag that we use for diving sometimes. You could load that up with fish. Or, if you want, I can drive the boat out and anchor it in the ocean, and you can just dump your catches on the deck so we can bring it back to Logan. Your call.” 

“I will consult my father,” Roman says, dropping back under the water. Patton lets his tail arch up out of the water as a sort of “hello I was listening” to Thomas as he pulls his head back down. 

“What do you think?” he asks Roman. 

“I don’t like the idea of that human following us around,” Roman says. “But I’m not the pod leader, so it’s not my call.”

“Ask him if this ‘boat’ is the thing he was riding on when we first met him,” Patton says. Roman swims up to the surface and drops back down. 

“He says it is.” 

“Ask him which holds more fish.” 

Roman pops up again. “The boat, he says. He also says that we could fill the bag with fish, empty it on the boat, and then bring it back down to fill it with fish again.” 

“I like that idea. Tell him we accept his help.” Roman looks disgruntled, but he still swims up to tell Thomas what Patton has said. 

When Patton lifts his head out of the water, he brings the water with him, wrapping it around his head and neck. The gills along his ribcage flare out angrily when he pulls himself up out of the water, but he ignores it in favor of looking at Logan. His guppy smiles and reaches out to touch his fins gently. 

“Have a plentiful hunt,” Logan says. “Be safe, Dad.” 

“Of course, guppy,” Patton says. 

“The cart is right next to your tank, Patton,” Virgil says. Patton lets out a low, rumbling click and locates the small ocean, carefully lowering his body into it. His gills flare out happily as he submerges in the water, and once the majority of his body is underwater his tail slithers in and curls on top of him. 

The small ocean moves with jerky, hesitant lurches. It is very uncomfortable inside there, and Patton is curled up on top of himself like an eel. He dislikes being in the small ocean for extended periods of time, but if it lets him move freely between the ocean at large and the place where his guppy is, he can tolerate it. 

Once the cart stops moving, Patton feels hands on his tail. They lift him up and over the edge of the small ocean, carefully lowering him down into the real ocean surging up into the grotto. The process continues for a few minutes until hands grip beneath his arms, lifting him up. Patton wraps his gills in water as Virgil lifts him up, groaning under the strain. He all but throws Patton into the water, and Patton inhales sharply as the cool water of the ocean flows around him. 

“Sorry!” he faintly hears Virgil call. Patton lifts one hand up and waves at him, hopefully conveying that he is not mad and unharmed. 

He swims about in the grotto for a little bit until Roman enters the water with a tremendous splash. “Thomas says that he is going to get the boat,” Roman reports. “He will meet us on the open ocean and give us the fish bag.” 

Patton lets Roman lead him out through the little tunnel. He can feel the change in his gills when they swim into open water, and he gleefully pushes forward into a spiral as he lets himself lengthen. Even at his smallest, he is far too big for any of the small oceans the humans attempt to keep him in. He relishes this chance to stretch his fins. 

Roman swirls around him, flaring and flattening his spines in joy. Patton carefully sends a few clicks towards the surface as they swim further out, sensing for Thomas’s boat. He feels Roman swish forward and sees him swim close, dragging a large impaled fish behind him. 

“First catch!”

Patton carefully tears off one of the choicest pieces of the fish and darts down to the sea floor, digging a small hole in the sand and laying the fish inside. He and Roman make short work of what’s left, and Patton lays the skeleton into the hole as well, covering it back up. 

“O Seven Mother Goddesses,” he intones. “Accept this offering and bless our hunt today.” Roman repeats the blessing, pressing one hand against the covered hole, and then they swim off into the ocean. 

When Thomas drops anchor, Patton and Roman swim up to greet him. Patton rises up in a column of water, leaving his larger set of gills submerged in the ocean as he watches Thomas. “Here’s the bag,” Thomas says, handing something to Roman. 

“What will you do while we hunt?” Roman asks. 

Thomas picks up some human thing. “I’m running tests on water samples.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ll be plenty busy while you hunt, and I won’t leave this spot, so you can come and drop off fish whenever you fill up the bag. Are you going to bring all the fish you catch back to the boat?” 

“No,” Roman says. “We usually eat a few while we’re hunting. Dad eats a lot more than us, so he usually eats a lot during the hunt and then he eats with us, too.” 

Thomas nods. “I’ll let you know when the boat reaches capacity, and then we can head back to Virgil and Logan. Sound good?” 

Patton nods when Roman looks to him for confirmation. “Fine.” Roman dives below the waves and Patton sinks down with him. Roman is busy attaching the bag around his torso, making sure that it won’t get in the way of his spines when he hunts. 

“Go ahead and catch something to eat, Dad. I’ll fill the bag for Logan and take it up to the boat, okay?”

“Once I eat, I will help you,” Patton protests. Roman smiles. 

“Take your time, Dad. I’m a good hunter - you trained me, remember?”

Patton smiles fondly. He does remember a tiny Roman, no bigger than his palm at his preferred size, valiantly attempting to chase down and kill prey much bigger than he was. It’s a favorite memory. 

Roman swims off, and Patton sends out exploratory clicks. He locates a school of fish and carefully approaches them, drawing in more and more water as he gathers his strength. Patton carefully coils his tail below him and releases a loud, deafening click. It’s like the normal clicks he uses to see things in the water, but magnified. 

The school of fish scatters, but he manages to stun a solid two thirds of them. They begin to sink, and Patton happily zips back and forth through the school, scooping the little bodies up and crunching on them. Despite the sacrifice he made to the Seven Mother Goddesses, Patton is ancient enough that bones don’t bother him when he eats, especially not for fish so small. 

Patton finds and stuns a few more schools, as well as some larger fish which he brings back to the boat. Thomas seems stunned by the sheer volume of fish he and Roman are collecting, and Patton suspects that the human will have questions about their hunting practices when they return to Logan. He should probably prepare Roman for those questions on the way back, he thinks. 

He’s so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice when a fish gets close to him. That puzzles Patton; most fish avoid him, knowing that they are in the presence of an apex predator. Still, he thinks, food is food. He sends out one of his stunners, but the fish is unaffected. 

That makes his scales itch in a strange way. He tries again, a little louder. The force of the sound knocks the strange fish back a little, but it just keeps approaching. Patton quickly dives below it and emits a low, rumbling distress call to Roman. Whatever this thing is, he wants his guppy close before they deal with it. 

Roman speeds to his side, and Patton points up to the strange fish. “It doesn’t look like a real fish,” Roman murmurs. “No fish I’ve ever seen, anyway. I don’t like it, Dad. I’m gonna go stab it.”

“Be careful,” Patton pleads. “I already have one injured guppy.” Roman nuzzles his face into Patton’s neck for a moment before bending his arms so that the spines on his joints sharpen and stand at attention. 

Patton watches with apprehension as Roman swims up and quickly gets in front of the strange fish. He brings his tail up, spines stiffening, and throws it forward. A few spines jettison out and pierce the strange fish. 

The water crackles and fizzes as the strange fish dies, almost like the water around Logan when he attacks. Roman flinches back from the discharge before swimming up to inspect what he’s just killed. 

“Dad, this isn’t a fish,” he says. Patton swims up quickly. “It looks like a fish, but there’s no meat. There’s no bones. It - it feels like the things the humans use.” Patton touches the strange object and recoils from the smooth, warm sensation. 

“We should get this to Thomas immediately. Maybe he knows more about this thing.” 

“Whatever it is, I have a bad feeling,” Roman says. 

Although he doesn’t say anything, not wanting to frighten his guppy, Patton does, too. 

[collapsingintojupiter]

Sea Urchin

I made me some analogical fluff bc honestly, why not?

Characters: Virgil, Logan, (brief) Roman

Relationships: Analogical, platonic Prinxiety

---

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Roman?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it’s a good idea!”

“Fish? For a date?” Roman sighed, slinging an arm around Virgil’s shoulder. 

“I’m telling you, oh panic-at-the-everywhere, that taking him to an aquarium will literally make his year. Logan loves the ocean, man.”

“And...and you’re sure he won’t think it’s weird?”

“No, because he’s weird. And so are you.”

“Hey!” Virgil shoved Roman away and glared at him, though it melted into a grin when he laughed that stupid laugh of his.  

“Relax, Virge. He’ll love it, I promise.” He sighed. 

“Okay…”

Half an hour later, Virgil was standing on the doorstep to the Crofter house, his hair awkwardly styled (Roman’s fault), and a plush shark in his hands (also Roman’s fault). Logan opened the door when he knocked, eyes widening at the sight of the plush shark. 

“I uh...here.” Virgil shoved it into Logan’s hands, then tried to remember what Roman had told him to say. “Uh, guess where we’re going today?”

Logan looked at the shark, then up at Virgil. 

Holy shit, I’ve never seen him this excited before. 

“Are...are we going to the aquarium?” At that, Virgil couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Roman’s terrible idea wasn’t so terrible after all. 

“Correct. I heard you were into marine biology, and they have a sale on the admission fee today. Roman also told me you liked sharks.”

Logan smiled--adorably, Virgil thought. 

“Yeah, I do. They’re such fascinating creatures, despite the terrible reputation they’ve been given.”

“That’s good, ‘cause they’ll have plenty where we’re going.” Virgil motioned to his car, which actually wasn’t his car, but his mom’s. “You ready to go?”

“I believe I am adequately prepared, yes.” Logan still held the plush, and carried it to the car with him where he set it on the dashboard. 

“Will it be okay if I keep it in here for now?” he asked as the two climbed inside. 

“Oh, sure!” Virgil said, and his voice definitely didn’t crack. He tried not to look at Logan as he backed the car out of the driveway and started into town; at his messy hair, the soft blue sweater he currently wore over a white button-up, at his blue glasses which had tiny goldfish painted on the sides - Roman’s work, most likely. And it was perfect.

Roman had been Logan’s best friend since the first grade, and from what Virgil had heard the two had become friends in much the same way he had when he’d been transferred to their school in fifth grade. Promptly after arriving Roman had made it his personal goal to befriend him, though Virgil had never understood quite why. Logan said he didn’t either; Roman merely shrugged when asked and said they’d seemed lonely. 

Not that that was true, or anything.

Whatever the case, Virgil did eventually succumb and become a part of the odd group. Later, when they reached highschool, it was again Roman who convinced him to finally ask Logan out. 

At first glance, Logan was little more than a quiet and studious kid with a weird fascination for both space and the deep ocean, something that was weirdly connected to and disconnected from Virgil’s own fascination with cryptids, conspiracies, and aliens. The more he’d gotten to know Logan, however, the more he learned about the nerdy kid’s wilder side; about his impulsive (but fun) antics in the name of science, his crazy ideas “for research purposes only, obviously,” and his long rants about stars at two in the morning when he couldn’t sleep. 

And Virgil fell in love with him. 

Roman noticed he had before he did, actually. He also said that Logan liked him too, and after several weeks of nagging Virgil finally worked up the courage to ask him out himself. And when Logan accepted--well, Virgil didn’t think he’d ever been happier (though he’d never tell Roman that).

“What’s your favorite ocean animal, Lo? Aside from sharks.” Logan glanced up, grinning crookedly. 

“I love eels,” he said. “And sea snakes. And crabs. And...” he stopped himself, and Virgil both tried and failed to hide a laugh. 

“Go ahead,” he said. “Um, do you have a favorite shark species?”

“Certainly. I am most fond of the tiger shark; their unique patterns are quite aesthetically pleasing. Speaking of sharks, did you know that shark skin feels like sandpaper?”

“I didn’t,” Virgil said, even though he did. “Tell me about it.”

“Their skin is made up of specialized placoid scales, which form a special kind of armor for the shark that’s actually quite thick. It’s also so rough that it can actually injure animals that rub against it the wrong way--it’s relatively smooth the other way, compared to it. The shape of the scales also makes the shark more streamlined in the water, so it loses less energy to drag when it’s hunting prey.”

Virgil kinda froze, even though he was still at the wheel, and once again he was struck by how damn smart Logan was, not to mention how cute he was when he got excited, and--

“Uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“You missed the turn.”

“Dammit!”

- - -

Virgil stood back a little, grinning to himself as Logan pressed his face up against the tank. On the other side of the glass, a rather uncomfortably large fish looked back at them. Virgil had already been dragged around four different rooms in the span of less than fifteen minutes, but despite that he couldn’t wipe the dumb look of adoration from his face as Logan excitedly rambled to him about parrot fish. 

“Did you know that they create bubble nets out of their mucus to hide in from sharks?”

“Uh...no, I didn’t.”

Man, the ocean was weird. 

“Ooh, this way! They have touch tanks in here!”

“They have what now?” Virgil asked, as Logan grabbed his hand and started pulling him into another room. 

“Touch tanks! So you can touch the anemones, urchins, sea cucumbers, and whatever else they have in there! Very fascinating textures, they have. Especially the anemones.”

“Wait wait wait...touch them?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Logan said quickly, coming to a halt at the room’s entrance. He glanced at Virgil. “If you want I can show you first, and then you can decide. They won’t hurt you.”

“Uh...okay.” Virgil wanted to say no, mostly because being wet was not what he had planned, but Logan seemed so excited about it that he couldn’t help it. Besides, it was just his hand. He’d be fine.

“Here’s a purple sea urchin.” Logan pointed at a little spiky thing in the sand, grinning from ear to ear. “Their spikes can’t hurt us, but they’re cool to touch.” He dipped his hand in, running his finger along one of the urchin’s spines. 

“Whoah, they’re closing together around your finger!” Virgil leaned over the edge of the tank, eyes wide. Logan grinned at him. 

“They trap food with their spines like that, isn’t that cool?”

“You mean it thinks your finger is food?” 

“Yup! Don’t worry though, he can’t hurt me. See?” Logan pulled his hand away easily, showing Virgil. “Wanna try?”

“You’re crazy.” He looked down at the urchin. “...Yes. I’ll try.”

The water was stupid cold, but Virgil rolled up his sleeves, pretended he didn’t notice the adorable smile Logan was giving him, and dipped his hand in. The urchin’s spines were hard, but smooth, and quickly hugged onto his finger as he watched in surprise. 

“You haven’t been to an aquarium before, have you?” Virgil glanced at Logan.  

“I haven’t, no. Ocean always gave me the heebies. Didn’t realize it was so...uh, cool…” he turned away to hide his face, which had turned a delicate shade of rose, and quickly washed his hands while Logan tried to pet every sea cucumber he could find in the tank. 

“They’re very squishy,” he said as he joined Virgil by the entrance. “Very smooth. I like them.”

“I can tell,” Virgil answered with a grin. 

They went to more tanks, then ate at the cafe inside. Logan excused himself after they sat down, leaving Virgil alone for a few minutes as he disappeared. 

Virgil pulled his patch jacket closer around his shoulders, and let out a small sigh. He’d never been much of a learner like Logan was - sleeping in class, doodling on the margins of his notebooks, ignoring the teacher and everything around him...but learning from Logan was so different, so...fun. He realized he’d been enjoying himself immensely the whole time, even though he now had more facts on sea cucumbers than he’d ever know what to do with. 

Being with Logan was fun, he thought. 

“What are you thinking about, Virgil?”

“GAH! Logan, why?”

“I apologize.” Logan sat down, a smile hiding in his eyes as he tried to look sheepish. “I uh, didn’t realize that you hadn’t noticed my presence.”

“It’s alright,” Virgil shook his head, pushing a plate of food towards him. “You just startled me.”

“I will try to avoid doing so in the future.” 

They talked about black holes and green sand; about comets and cone snails and nebulae and nurse sharks. 

And Virgil loved it. 

At last, the day had gone and it was time to go. Virgil was exhausted, but glowing with happiness as they made their way towards the exit. Logan held his hand; similarly quiet, similarly happy. 

As they reached the front door, he stopped and turned to him. 

“I uh...got you something,” Logan said quietly, holding something up for him to see. 

“Is...is that an urchin plush?”

“I, uh...I thought that since…I went back to the gift shop...wanted to get something special...”

“I love it.” Virgil gently took the plush from Logan, cupping it in his hands and feeling how soft it was in his fingers. Logan grinned widely, and before either boy knew what was happening they were in each other’s arms. Logan’s embrace was gentle, but firm, and Virgil was pretty sure he never wanted to leave his arms again. 

Silently, he thanked Roman for his best terrible idea ever.

[noyin]

This is Logan to Ground Control

AO3 Here!

Rating: G

Pairing(s): Logicality, Familial Analogical, Background Prinxiety

Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Outer Space, Astronaut!Logan, Familial Virgil And Logan, Angst, it's sad, Also I Know Nothing Of Spaceships, Inspired By: Space Oddity By David Bowie, Oneshot, Stream of Consciousness

Summary:

Ground Control to Logan, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong... Can you hear me, Logan? Can you hear me, Logan? Can you hear me, Logan?

---

It was usually so quiet.

Occasionally, Logan would find himself singing to himself to fill up the emptiness that seemingly filled everything these days. He missed the sound of singing in the morning, the smell of slightly burnt pancakes overlapped with bacon, the warmth of the bed and a body draped over him, peppering his face with kisses.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," came a cheerful voice.

Logan woke up to the circular window overhead. And thousands of stars looked back at him. The vast expanse of space was absolutely beautiful and breathtaking, it never ceased to amaze Logan. Even as a little boy, he would spend hours under the night sky, and his bedroom had been filled with astronomy books and a telescope by the window. Yet, the longer he looked at the window, the clearer it became, that the vastness of space only meant it was also incredibly-

Lonely.

Wetly, that same voice told him, Hey, bring me back a souvenir from the moon. A piece of rock floated around the room, the same greyish white one that had been for the passed three months.

Logan undid the snap that held him in place on his bed. The snap felt like a cruel imitation of an arm. So, sometimes he would float in his sleep.

As he usually did—even in space, Logan held routine to a high standard—he first pulled out a photograph from his dark blue jumpsuit pocket. It had gone soft around the edges and it was folded in some places, a testimony to how much it had been loved. It was a picture of a man and a boy, the man whose smile warmed him, and the boy whose grimace always made him chuckle.

We love you, come back soon, was written on the bottom in faded, loopy black ink.

Logan gently set the picture back in his pocket. Something bitter caught in his throat and he got all misty-eyed, as he usually did. That was a normal, human emotion, Logan deduced. Yes, it was only natural that he missed his husband and son.

 I wonder if they're happy…

Logan floated through the claustrophobic cylindrical innards of the ship, making his way to the galley. Breakfast wasn't anything interesting, just a piece of jerky and a sip of coffee.

Okay, he thought to himself, skimming the supplies in the locker as he chewed the jerky. That would be...three hundred and twenty five days.

He marked that on the paper taped to the locker.

Floating away from the galley, he went into another smaller, spherical room, that had no windows and was kept quite dim. He sat on the seat in the middle and buckled in, then turned on the computer that sat opposite of him.

"Day one hundred and ten, it is currently zero nine-hundred, UTC. This is flight engineer Logan of the space shuttle, T. Sanders. It has been ninety five days since I lost contact with Ground Control and the rest of the crew," Logan said. He swallowed. "Today, I'm continuing my repair on the unusual kink in the OMS engine. I'm fairly certain there's a problem with the hydraulics, some kind of issue with the heating and cooling. As far as I'm aware, as of now, it is unsafe to maneuver." Logan inhaled. It was harder to keep his voice level. "However, if it is as serious as I believe it to be, then..." Logan trailed off.

His hand slid into his pocket and he caressed the photograph's worn face. I won't be returning.

"I don't- I'm unsure if I have the necessary parts on board. To- to fix it. And I don't know if it's worth taking the risk, to make the return to Earth on a damaged ship. If I do make the decision, it must be now, as I'm coming up on Mars in a few weeks. And I only have so many resources."

Quickly muttering his closing, he saved the video with the rest of the entries of his electronic journal, and shut the computer off. Logan made his way out of the room, floating down the halls to the flight deck.

He started talking again—he did that a lot as of late, he realized. Strangely, he found himself addressing the company he didn't have, or wished he had, and Logan knew it was simply a coping mechanism he had made up. Because, some days felt on the brink of a breakdown and that was the thread holding him together.

"How are you doing today, Patton? Have you done anything new? I know you were working on a garden before I left. I'm sorry I'm useless when it comes to plants. I know, I have a degree in science and engineering, so you'd imagine I would at least have some sort of 'green thumb,' as you put it. But that's why I need you, bumblebee." Logan smiled. "I'm glad gardening makes you happy. I only ever want to see you smile."

Logan turned the corner.

"Oh, good morning, Virgil. Are you doing okay recently? How has therapy been? I know you didn't tell me, but I heard from Dad that you found yourself a boyfriend. Is Roman kind to you, Virgil? It's funny how you met him at the cafe, it reminds me of your Dad and I. You should invite him over for supper. I would love to meet him."

Logan stopped muttering to himself when he finally reached the flight deck. Much like the rest of the ship, it was completely empty, save for several chairs and the control console. There was a window that stretched across the room, displaying the thousands of light years of space, stars, and unknown. Had Logan not been looking at it the whole time, had Logan not been in space for what felt like ages, he guessed he would have never gotten tired of such a sight.

Logan clawed his way to the intercom.

Logically, he knew that using it would have the same outcome as any other time. Illogically, as humans wished to think sometimes, he hoped for a newer outcome. Pushing the button, he spoke.

"This is flight engineer Logan to Ground Control. Can anybody hear me? Over."

Static.

"I repeat, is there anybody there? This is flight engineer Logan to Ground Control. I'm the only remaining crew aboard the Space Shuttle, T. Sanders. Over."

Static.

Logan dropped his head.

"Please."

Silence.

What else was he expecting?

Dejected, Logan let his hand slip from the intercom. He glanced to the window and floated up to it. He wet reflection shined clear on the glass and he laid his forehead on the cold smoothness. All he could see was space. Beautiful, beautiful, lonely space.

Don't get too lonely up there.

He held his husband close. He smelled distinctly of bread. No. Sugar. No. Logan couldn't remember.

I'll be back before you know it, love. It's a small mission to retrieve a satellite. Nothing should go wrong.

You promise?

I promise.

Logan tapped his forehead against the glass. Of course. Of course everything had to go wrong. There had to be a problem with the ship, there had to be a loss of contact from Ground Control, and there had to be a malfunctioning escape pod that shot before Logan could get in.

We love you, come back soon.

Logan dug the picture from his pocket, slamming it against the window pane. He stared at it, he stared at the wedding band around his finger, all through teary eyes.

"Dammit," Logan cursed.

Logan slipped away from the window.

He knew it was very stupid, what he was about to do. The odds of death were incredibly high, but Logan thought, what did it matter? He was going to die anyway, alone, in the vastness of space.

Logan slid into the pilot's seat and fastened his belt, then reached over to the intercom, shaking, crying, his voice thick.

"This is flight engineer Logan to Ground Control. With no given orders, I have made the executive decision to turn this vessel around. I'm charting a course back to Earth. If this message ever reaches Ground Control and I..." Logan stuttered. Pause. Inhale. "Tell- tell my husband I love him very much. Tell my son I love him very much." Releasing the intercom, Logan took in a big breath. "Though, I'm sure they know."

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Trust Issues

Summary: Virgil and Logan are internet friends. Can they be something more? Angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, analogical. Mentions of abuse.

Word Count: 3,784

Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01​​ @spoopy-turtle​​ @lizluvscupcakes​ @more-fandon-than-friends 

Virgil kept everyone at arm's length. He knew it wasn’t fair to himself but he didn’t care. It was the way he had been since high school. He was half way into college now and doing fine. That was, until he met someone online. They got along well, having similar interests and Virgil enjoyed talking to him. He didn’t realize that he was letting his walls down until it was too late.

He was trying to study for an important exam when he got the request for a call. Sighing, Virgil rolled his chair over to the side, reaching into his loft bed to grab his phone. He accepted the call as he rolled back, turning the music coming from the laptop down. 

“Salutations, Virgil.” The almost musical voice came from his phone.

Virgil was still out of sight of the camera and allowed himself a large smile before sobering and propping the phone where he could see it and be seen. “Hi, Logan. Did you need something?”

“I wanted to spend time with you.” Logan said as if it was the most logical thing in the world to call someone up simply to spend time together. Which, for most people, it probably was. Unfortunately, Virgil wasn’t most people.

Virgil scoffed as he jotted down a note. “Sure, because you’ve got nothing better to do.”

Logan sighed, already used to this from him. “Virgil, I can see you multitasking. Is it not possible to conceive that I might also be capable of doing the same? Is it a truly impossible idea that I simply wanted your company, whether we discuss topics or not?”

Virgil’s hands stilled, pausing in his thought process to look at the small screen housing Logan’s face. “No, I guess it isn’t.” He ran a hand through his hair, oblivious to the amount of graphite on the side of it. “Sorry, I’m just stressed out right now.”

Logan smiled. “Take a deep breath. Now, do you want help, or a listening ear?”

“A listening ear. I’m trying to study for my second to last exam but it doesn’t feel like I’m remembering any of it.”

Logan nodded. “Okay, maybe it’s time to take a break. It seems that I called at just the right time.”

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t want to bother you with this. It’s stupid and not even like it’s the class with the most credits right now. I think I’ll just switch to a different subject and work on that.”

Logan’s voice took on a dejected tone. “Alright. I’m here if you need me.” He turned away from his screen and Virgil got a look at his surroundings. Unlike Virgil who was in a dorm, Logan seemed to be in at least an apartment. He was standing in an immaculately clean kitchen with a few mixing bowls behind him.

Logan turned to the bowls, grabbing a bag of flour from off screen and started measuring out ingredients. Virgil rested his chin on his palm, elbow placed on the desk, and let himself watch for a few minutes as Logan whipped up a batch of cookies by hand and placed them in the ove, setting a timer before turning back to the phone, obviously surprised to see Virgil spaced out in front of him.

Virgil startled out of his thoughts when Logan called his name. Eyes focusing again, he found himself looking at Logan’s face with a soft smile resting upon it. “Virgil.” He called again, voice impossibly gentle. 

Virgil lifted his head. “You need something?”

“You spaced out for a bit. Anything on your mind?”

Virgil shook his head, removing his pencil from behind his ear and looking back at the scratch paper in front of him. “Just the math problems.”

“Okay. I’m gonna read a book for a while so just say if you need anything.”

Virgil gave a thumbs up to the general area of his phone and hoped Logan saw it. After a few minutes of quiet music and no sound from Logan, Virgil needed more auditory stimulation. So, he rolled back in his chair and pulled out a drawer that housed his headphones. Plugging them into his laptop, he turned the volume up just enough that he could finally think. 

His thought strayed from his work to the man sitting nearby but so far away. Looking up, Logan’s phone was positioned against what Virgil assumed was a lamp that allowed him to read and still have the phone within his sight line. Virgil sighed quietly as he directed his gaze back to his page and started to doodle in the margins.

He knew what was happening, had known for a few weeks now. He was terrified of the consequences of these feelings that were beginning to bubble up inside him like a freshwater spring in the mountains. While he wanted to live by the spring and drink deeply of it every day, he knew he was doomed to be a nomad and was scared to fill his water bottle from the spring. 

He knew he was falling for Logan, knew he could confess and have a good chance Logan felt the same. He also knew the chances of him turning him down and cutting off all contact with him. Virgil didn’t think he could stand that again. He looked up when he heard a sound, only to find Logan staring at him with another smile in his eyes.

Logan mimed taking headphones off and Virgil did as requested. Pausing the music, he turned his full attention to the beautiful human on the other side of the screen. “You need something?”

Logan coughed. “Well, I actually did call you for a reason.”

Virgil nodded, letting his pencil fall out of his hand and roll across the desk. “I’m all ears.” His heart was in his throat and was pounding a mile a minute. There was no other sound in his room as he turned his undivided attention to him.

Logan smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing major, I assure you.” Virgil nodded, heart rate slowing just the slightest. “I have to go away for a week or two and I won’t have access to the internet or service. I’ll essentially be radio silent for the foreseeable future.”

Virgil nodded in understanding even as the feelings he had been dreading the most clawed their way into his throat. He forced them back down, telling himself he would deal with it at a later time that would never come. “Okay. Are you just informing me out of courtesy?” He was surprised by how nonchalant he managed to sound as he started looking around the desktop for the dropped pencil.

“I know you worry to the point of excess at times and simply wanted to inform you so you don’t freak out when you can’t get into contact with me.” He paused. “Virgil, are you alright?”

Virgil was leaning away from the camera. “Yeah, just looking for my pencil.”

Logan sighed as a timer went off in the background. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m fine. Go check on the cookies.”

Virgil finally sat back up, pencil in hand. He could feel the tears pricking his eyes even as he swallowed them. ‘He’s just going somewhere for a while.’ He thought. ‘He’s not like him. He’ll come back, there’s no reason to panic.’

He watched Logan stand and walk off screen before his head dipped back down, looking at his paper through blurry eyes as a tear splashed onto the problem he was working on. Sniffling, he rolled away to grab the box of tissues that his roommate stole. He blew his nose in case Logan was within hearing range before swiping at his eyes a bit too hard. He cleaned his face up before blotting the water drop on his page. 

Logan came back into view and picked the phone up, holding it away from his body. “Are you alright? I thought I heard something from here?”

“Yeah, I just have a stuffy nose right now due to the weather.” He rubbed his hands down his face, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Hey, I really need to focus on this right now. I don’t know if I can call you back later so I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.” Virgil purposely kept his voice light, almost cheerier than normal. “Bye!”

He ended the call, head falling to rest on his desk. First it was the stress of having homework to do on top of studying for a test he was sure he was going to fail, then he was sure he was coming down with a cold, now Logan initiated a long bout of not talking. He knew Logan wasn’t going to abandon him, but it hurt just the same.

Remus came back a half hour later to find him in the same position. “Yo, dude. What’s wrong?”

Virgil grunted, not bothering to move.

Remus’ voice softened as his footsteps approached. “Hey, you wanna talk about it?”

Virgil’s hand shot up, showing Remus the bird. Remus just snorted. “I get that enough from my brother, you don’t scare me, emo. Come on, what’s wrong?”

Virgil finally lifted his head, allowing Remus a glimpse of his red, puffy, and bloodshot eyes. “My life is going to hell faster than you are.”

Remus nodded, ignoring the last part of the sentence. “Okay. That’s not new. Tell me what happened this time.”

Virgil stood from his chair, crawling into his bed and hugging his pillow. “Logan just told me he wasn’t going to be able to talk to me for about two weeks and now I’m having past trauma creep up. Nothing too major.”

Remus sighed, climbing into the bed next to him. “Do we need to move your appointment up so you can talk about it with Dr. Picani?”

Virgil shrugged. “Probably. I don’t want to bother him with this though.”

Remus laughed. “You do realize that this is the exact thing you started going to him to help with, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Virgil leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. “So, how was your day?”

So, Remus distracted Virgil from the tempest raging inside him, talking on and on about the things he learned and got to experience in his mortuary science classes. That night, Remus helped Virgil bump his appointment to the day after next.

When it was time to go, Remus offered to drive Virgil but he opted to walk instead. He got there and checked in with the receptionist, Remy. They chatted about what kind of coffee Remy was drinking today and his current recommendation before he was told to go ahead and go on back. Dr. Picani came in shortly, skipping the theatrics and going straight to the nitty-gritty.

“So, something's bothering you?” He asked as he sat down.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah. It’s just . . .  something happened recently that caused me to go back into the mindset of a few years back.”

Emile nodded. “So, your abandonment issues are back?”

“Yeah.” Virgil sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, almost ashamed to have brought this to him. “It’s something so stupid too.”

“Nothing is stupid when it comes to this. Now, what caused this?”

“A friend that, for the past two years-”

“Logan?”

“Yes, Logan. We keep in contact regularly, always chatting at least three times a week, sometimes more.”

Emile nodded. “He’s good for you.”

“Well, he says he has to go somewhere for the next few weeks and won’t have any service or access to wifi. In his own words, he’s going radio silent for one to two weeks.”

“I can see how that would be distressing to you. What feelings does it bring up? Honestly, please.”

“Honestly? Inadequate, too much, like I was stepping on his toes and wasn’t told of it until just now. Most of all, it hurts to know that I’m falling for him but have no courage to confess or even bring it up. I don’t even know if he’s into guys.” Virgil ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly.

Emile made a note. “So, you feel like when your ex left you?”

“Put plainly, yes. I’m back into the loop of wondering if I did something wrong only this time I have the knowledge that Logan communicates enough to let me know if I did something wrong. He would have no reason to lie to me. Then again, he was baking cookies while we were talking.”

“He is not the baker type?”

“I’ve never seen him use that much sugar in all the time I’ve known him.” Virgil shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m probably just being paranoid.”

Emile hummed. “You are not paranoid, but you are probably overthinking this. If you have a way of texting him, maybe do that to cope. If nothing else, write him letters when you want to talk to him.”

Virgil nodded. “That’s a really good idea, thanks!”

The rest of the appointment went smoothly, Virgil needing a refill on his medication anyways. Over the course of the next few days, Virgil bought a small notebook that he started filling with random thoughts that he thought Logan would enjoy or things he really wanted to tell him. Maybe he would tell him parts of it but much of it was something he would die of embarrassment if anyone found it. 

One night, Virgil was sitting at his desk while trying to do some research for an essay when there was a knock at his door. Groaning, he stood up. “Remus, you’ve gotta stop leaving your key here.” He said as he opened the door, not even looking at who was at the door. Afterall, who else would be knocking on his door at two in the morning? 

“I did not know I possessed a key.” A familiar voice that definitely wasn’t Remus answered.

Virgil whirled around, only to see Logan standing in his doorway, a suitcase in one hand and tubberware in the other. Logan raised his eyebrows. “Do I need a key to enter?”

Virgil shook his head, brain not actually connecting what was happening at the moment. Logan smirked as he stepped past the doorway and shut the door behind himself. “Are you alright?”

Virgil nodded. Legs giving way under him, he collapsed into his desk chair. His eyes were wide as they followed Logan. Logan slipped his shoes off and placed them by Virgil’s near the door before setting his suitcase down and handing the tupperware to Virgil, who took it and placed it on his desk.

Another minute passed as Logan got a good look around the room before Virgil finally got his brain cells working again. “What are you doing here?”

Logan laughed, pulling Remus’ desk chair over to sit at Virgil’s eye level. “I wanted to surprise you.” His eyes were soft and voice fond, leaving Virgil a figurative puddle of feelings.

Virgil blinked but had enough presence of mind to close the journal he’d been writing in, making it look like he was just tidying up his desk. “Why?” His voice was filled with bitterness directed at himself. He wasn’t sure why Logan went through all the trouble of coming all the way here.

Before Logan could answer, the door was flung open. “Emo, I’m hoooome!” The word ‘home’ was sung out like Remus was in some sort of sitcom.

Virgil sighed, grateful for the distraction. “Hey, stinky.”

Remus looked over at him. “Oh, who’s this? Is this that boy you’ve been talking to for the past three years?” His eyes were bright with mischief. Or maybe that was alcohol.

Logan stood, holding out a hand for Remus to shake. “I’m Logan. It’s a pleasure to meet Virgil’s roommate.”

Remus looked at the hand before taking a few steps forward, close enough that their noses were almost touching but not quite. Before he could do anything, Virgil spoke up. “Bad Remus. Go to bed.”

Remus pouted but climbed into his loft bed, rolling to face the wall and putting his headphones on. Virgil sighed, standing to give him a water bottle before turning back to Logan. “He tends to lick new people.”

Logan rubbed his cheek. “Lick?”

Virgil nodded, chuckling. “Yeah.”

Logan nodded, a relieved expression crossing his face as he sat back down. “So, how have you been? We haven’t talked in a little while.”

Virgil nodded, grabbing water bottles for himself and Logan out of the minifridge before sitting back down, handing Logan his. “I’ve been okay.”

Behind Logan, Virgil saw Remus roll over and raise his eyebrows in a way that Virgil had come to know as, ‘You wanna tell him or should I?’ Virgil waved a hand at hip height, something Logan would miss but Remus would know as, ‘Leave it.’

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You seem unsure of that.”

Virgil sighed, running a hand through his hair before taking a sip of water to avoid the question. As soon as the liquid touched his tongue he realized that the last time he drank something was an energy drink a few hours ago and chugged half the bottle. When he came up for air, Logan looked concerned. “Do you want the honest answer?” Virgil asked, capping the bottle.

Logan’s concern turned to surprise. “I thought we were always as honest as possible.”

Virgil nodded, hand subconsciously reaching for his fidget cube. “I’ve not been doing so well.” His hand went through his hair again, tugging slightly.

Remus laughed. “That’s an understatement!”

Logan turned to look at him. “Would one of you care to explain?”

Virgil gestured at Remus, who instantly swung his legs over the side of his bed, not caring that he didn’t have a railing. “So, Virgil has a past. Because of this, he’s got such things as abandonment issues and an anxiety disorder. He’s going to therapy for both but had to bump up his appointment due to you going radio silent.”

Logan held up a hand, turning to face Virgil. “Is this true? Why did you need to change the appointment date?”

Virgil nodded, fingers pressing the buttons harder than he meant to but the clicking was calming. “I needed to get a refill of my meds as well as needed to talk to my therapist about it.” He shrugged, his hoodie being pulled tighter around him. “My ex would often be abusive before going radio silent. I got used to the connection to the point that he could just go radio silent and I would wonder what I did wrong. I haven’t seen him in years but old habits die hard.”

Logan’s face crumpled in sympathy, leaning forward to put a hand on Virgil’s knee. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Virgil shrugged. “That’s cause I didn’t tell you.” 

Logan nodded. “I’m sorry for making you feel like that. No one should have to go through that.”

Virgil nodded. “I guess.”

“Hey!” Remus called. “It’s late and I want to sleep! Get out!” 

Virgil playfully gasped. “Remus! You don’t even know if he was planning on spending the night here!” Virgil turned to Logan, hope in his chest but practiced indifference in his eyes as he struggled to build his walls back up brick by brick. “Were you?”

“No. I was going to get a room in the hotel down the road. Although, I should be going now as it’s quite late.”

Virgil nodded, standing with him. As he rested his hand on his desk to stand, it fell on the journal he was writing in earlier. On a whim, he picked it up and held it out to Logan. “Take this with you. You know, for some light reading.”

Logan smiled as his hand gently closed around the book, slipping it into his suitcase. “I will, thank you.” Virgil ignored the way Remus was making kissing faces.

Logan left and Virgil had a hard time getting to sleep. Eventually, he did. Sleep crept in like a thief in the night, noticed just as quickly and caught even slower. When morning came, he was just drifting off to sleep but had to get up to go to class, grumbling all the way.

When he was getting out of his last class, Virgil got a text from Logan that said to wait in front of the dorm building. When he got there, a car was already parked outside. The window rolled down to show Logan in the driver’s seat. “You got time?”

Virgil smiled and nodded, getting in. Logan sped off gesturing to the stereo. “I don’t know the local stations and this is a rental.”

Virgil sat forward, hand poised to change the station. “What are we looking for?”

Logan shrugged. “Anything you like, really. I’m not that picky when it comes to music.”

Virgil smirked before changing it to the one station that was eternally stuck in the early 2000’s. Logan smiled. “I missed this music.” He muttered.

Virgil sat back and let himself get lost. He didn’t care about the destination, just focused on the music around him. Blocking out all thoughts except for the music, he started to hum along to songs he knew. Eventually, he started to sing to them. Logan just smiled and turned the music up.

When the car stopped, Logan turned the music down and all Virgil’s worries came back. He remembered the book he gave away last night, which he now noticed was sitting on the center console. Logan turned to face Virgil, who started to play with his hood strings.

Logan smiled, reaching a hand out to hold one of Virgil’s. “I want you to know I read the whole thing.”

Virgil wished the car had an eject button or that the ground would open up and swallow him. 

“Honestly, reading that gave me confidence and made this infinitely easier to do.”

Virgil squeezed his hand, reminding himself Logan wouldn’t have come all the way over here just to tell him he didn’t want to be friends anymore.

“I want you to know that I feel the same way.”

Virgil’s gaze shot up from their joined hands, looking at Logan and feeling like a house was being built by the spring. “Do you mean it?” His voice was quiet, hesitant.

Logan smiled, thumb idly rubbing on the back of Virgil’s hand. “I’m as serious as I’ve ever been. I made cookies to butter you up, for goodness sake!”

Virgil giggled. “You’re a dork.”

Logan leaned forward, his smile turning into a smirk. “Can I be your dork?”

Virgil nodded, leaning in to close the distance and kiss his dork.