stardustsides

[stardustsides]

we’ll all be here forever

content warnings: references to underage drinking, general anxiety about going away to college

pairings: romantic logicality

word count: 1357

surprise, a lil logicality oneshot i wrote a few months ago but never posted. enjoy !!!

~

“I thought I might find you here.”

Patton glanced up from his spot on his attic bedroom floor. He was sitting cross-legged on his shag carpet he’s had since childhood, the dying light from outside pooling around him soft as honey, yearbook open in his lap. The circular window above his head was cracked open, letting the early summer air mingle with the muted sounds of the graduation party in the backyard.

Logan stood in the doorway, wearing a red Harvard t-shirt and looking unsure of himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you—“

“Not at all,” Patton replied, patting the spot beside him. “Come sit.”

After a moment, he did, stooping a bit to fit inside. Logan had had a major growth spurt back in the summer before junior year, and now could no longer stand at his full height in Patton’s bedroom without hitting his head on the slanted ceilings. He folded his limbs in carefully and sat next to him.

Once, Patton might have felt the need to grin at Logan, to wipe every trace of melancholy from his expression and eagerly fill the silence between them. But the silence was comfortable, and Patton was lately finding that around Logan, he had to pretend less and less. And so for a little while, the two flicked through the yearbook together, quietly laughing to themselves when a particularly bad picture of one of their friends came up, and recounting the memories of the past year. Of the past four.

“Aww,” Patton said suddenly, pointing to the two-page spread made for the annual school musical. “Roman was so good in that. He made me cry.”

Logan glanced at him, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. “It was Mamma Mia.”

Patton swatted him on the arm. “Mamma Mia has serious moments! I bet plenty of people teared up during ‘Slipping Through my Fingers’!”

Logan snorted, turning his attention back to the book. “Oh, there’s Janus at the mock trial.”

“He did so good!”

“He did. Though he is going to law school after college, so I doubt that his opponents were thrilled about facing off with him.”

Patton fell silent again, the statement settling over him like a weighted blanket. The pictures on the photo wall above his desk fluttered in the light breeze. He wanted to curl up beneath it and let this moment live forever.

“…Patton,” Logan asked carefully. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you down at the party?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Harvard-man,” Patton replied, but it didn’t come out as playful as he had hoped. The six of them—their tight-knit friend group since freshman year—had been planning the joint graduation party since they had gotten back from winter break. It had been decided that they would hold it at Patton’s house, because his house—which was actually a repurposed barn—had the biggest backyard. The others had come over at the crack of dawn to set up; now, fairy lights adorned the backyard, and streamers the colors of every college they had chosen cascaded around the perimeter.

It looked lovely, and yet as soon as the first guests had trickled in, Patton found that he just wanted to be alone.

Logan looked at him, a little furrow between his brows. Patton had often thought of that little furrow: if Logan knew it was there, what it would be like to press his thumb to it and smooth it out. He pushed those thoughts down, as he had gotten skilled at doing.

At last, he sighed. “I guess it’s just hitting me. That we’re all leaving.”

“…ah.”

“Yeah.”

Another bout of silence, punctuated by the faint sound of Remus beating Roman in a game of cornhole and crowing about his victory.

“You really don’t need to worry, Lo,” Patton said softly, offering him a wan smile. “I’ll be okay. Go down and enjoy the party.”

“You know that I have never been a party person.”

“You might be next year. I hear Harvard parties get crazy.”

“All the more reason for me not to go.”

“Yeah, well.” Patton sighed. “Who knows what next year will be like. Maybe we’ll all be different by then. We already are.”

A few weeks ago, they had rented a mountain house for a weekend, as per the “senior week” tradition. Roman had managed to smuggle a few boxes of hard seltzers and a bottle of vodka, and they had spent their Saturday night in various stages of drunkenness. It had all felt very grown up.

“Nothing has to change,” Logan started uncertainly.

“Logan,” he replied. “It already is.”

“That doesn’t mean that we won’t all still be close.”

“I know. But sometimes I wish that we could stop time, just for a little while.”

Another silence settled over them like a fresh layer of snow. Patton was thinking of what to say, of how to apologize for ruining the moment, when he felt Logan’s hand over his. He looked up in surprise—Logan was staring straight ahead, a muscle feathering in his jaw, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to speak.

Patton put his other hand on top of Logan’s and squeezed.

For a suspended moment, Patton’s world narrowed: the distant chatter outside, the early summer breeze, Logan’s hand between his, Logan’s breathing. He felt warm from the inside out, and all of his troubles suddenly seemed so very far away.

“Patton,” Logan began haltingly. “I—you know that I would never—that is, I could never—I could never let myself grow apart from you?”

Patton looked at him. Logan looked vaguely frustrated with himself, his cheeks daylily pink. He pushed his glasses further up his nose.

“I know,” Patton replied softly. “Me neither.”

Logan nodded faintly. “Good,” he said, almost to himself.

For a moment, Patton thought that that was it, and the comfortable silence would return. He turned his gaze back toward the window.

“Patton,” Logan said again, his voice taking on a strange timbre.

Patton looked at him again, and their eyes met. He felt a zing of something go down his spine, thrilling and terrifying. He suddenly had the distinct feeling of standing on the precipice of some great unknown, teetering precariously on the edge.

Logan, for the first time Patton could ever remember, was completely lost for words. He opened his mouth and closed it again, a short, nervous breath escaping him.

And then Patton leaned forward and kissed him.

Logan’s lips were slightly chapped, and he tasted a hint of vanilla frosting from the massive sheet cake downstairs; it was brief yet lingering, and when Patton drew back, Logan’s eyes looked starry behind his glasses.

And before Patton could even open his mouth to speak, Logan took his face in his hands and kissed him again, sweet and awkward and achingly tender. Their glasses clinked together. Patton could feel Logan’s nervous heartbeat through his chest, thumping in tandem with his own.

It felt like a puzzle piece had slid into place.

When Logan pulled away, there was a brief, suspended moment of pure wonder as they stared at each other. And then Patton started giggling. He felt giddy, like he was a can of soda that had been shaken and was now bubbling up everywhere. He was sparkling, fizzy.

Logan cracked a grin, shy and bashful but dazzling, and Patton’s heart felt so full.

“So,” he said, giggling.

“So.” Logan replied.

“Did I ever tell you you look cute in red?” Patton grinned, nodding at Logan’s Harvard shirt. Logan’s flush deepened.

“I don’t believe so.”

“I guess I better tell you more often, then.”

“I suppose you should.”

Later, Roman would burst into the room, reprimands about ditching the party dying on his tongue when he sees their joined hands. Later, they would have to endure endless teasing and scrutiny from their friends, various ‘I called it’-s and ‘I told you so’-s. Later, they would officially call themselves boyfriends, the word thrilling and new.

But for now, on the floor of his attic bedroom, Logan’s hand in his, Patton felt time stretch before him, golden and bright, and he found that he wasn’t scared at all.

[stardustsides]

Love is a Beach

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Patton and Janus broke up months ago. The problem? They still haven’t told their friends, and their annual beach trip is looming. Not wanting to break the news and ruin the vacation, they come to an…unconventional agreement.

Pairings: Moceit, background Prinxiety

Content Warnings: Drinking/flashback to underage drinking, drunkenness, breakups, lmk if i missed anything!!

Word Count: ~2100

Author’s Note: The second chapter is here!! Writing the flashback in this chapter made me miss freshman year of college so bad actually i need to go back i fear.

~

Janus stood in the emptiness of the master bedroom and stared at the space where Patton had been. The late afternoon sun spilled across the polished hardwood floor, painting the room in a hazy gold. Muffled from downstairs, he could hear him telling Virgil that he would cook after all tonight, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. He knew from six years of being in a relationship with the man that he cooked under stress. Memories of coming home to their apartment to find Patton in the kitchen surrounded by trays upon trays of cookies came flooding back to him, and his heart gave a painful tug.

He blew out a careful, measured breath and sat on the corner of the bed. He hadn’t been lying—Patton really was a terrible actor, which provided two massive problems for Janus: one, because they had to keep the charade up all week, and two, because Janus secretly found Patton’s complete inability to lie one of his most endearing qualities.

Really, this had been a terrible idea to begin with, but when he had come over to the apartment to pick up his things, he couldn’t help but notice the deep circles under Patton’s puffy red eyes, his unkempt hair, his rumpled shirt. No matter how upset with each other they still were, when Patton had turned to look at him, the only thing that he wanted to do was close the space between them, take him into his arms, and smooth down his hair. Even now, he hated seeing him so upset. And so, he did the only thing that he could think to do:

Propose the world’s worst plan.

They still hadn’t told the others about the breakup yet. It was getting to the point where it was starting to worry Janus, so he could only imagine how much it was destroying Patton. If the bags under his eyes were any indication, he had been turning the question of how to tell them over and over in that worrywart way of his. And so, the plan was concocted: by keeping the act up until after their vacation, they both got to enjoy one final week of normalcy with their friends, and it gave them time to cool down enough that when they did break the news, they could at least present a united front.

And, though he wouldn’t admit it, the selfish part of him wanted to avoid the crushing finality of telling everyone for as long as possible.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but then again, his brain had always seemed to turn to mush when it came to Patton.

The bastard was impossible not to adore.

And so, here he was, sitting on the edge of the bed that he would be sharing with his ex-boyfriend for the next week, in a lovely little house that he could so clearly picture the two of them sharing a life in, surrounded by all of their closest friends.

One week. That was all he had to get through.

One week, and then everything would change.

~

Dinner was, of course, delicious.

Janus twirled his spaghetti around his fork and tried to look as nonchalant as possible, situated directly next to Patton. He cut a sidelong glance at him—at the very least, he seemed a fraction less tense than a few hours ago, which he supposed was an improvement. He had been white-knuckling the steering wheel on the ride over.

His face was also prettily flushed, the way it always was after a few glasses of wine, which Janus was valiantly trying to ignore.

“This is wonderful, dear,” Janus said as naturally as he could. Patton started a little.

“Thank you!” He responded, the flush creeping down to his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. A small, traitorous part of Janus’s brain wondered how far down it went. “…honey.”

“I was thinking we could all head down to the beach at around ten tomorrow?” Roman cut in brightly. “Make some sandwiches, bring a cooler?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Virgil, picking at his salad. In spite of himself, Janus had to fight back a smile. Roman could have suggested they all walk over hot coals at six AM sharp, and Virgil would have readily agreed.

“Everyone good for margaritas after dinner?” Roman asked. He had worked as a bartender in college, and as such, always took it upon himself to make drinks for the group at large. Not that Janus complained. Roman knew exactly how Janus liked his drinks–syrupy sweet, the alcohol nearly undetectable–and scarcely teased him for it.

Patton nodded so emphatically that a bit of white wine from the glass that he was holding nearly sloshed over the side, and understanding hit Janus like a stone sinking in water. He’s planning on getting drunk.

Janus could hardly blame him–the thought had crossed his mind too, as a way to cope with the comically uncomfortable situation the two of them had found themselves in–but Patton was a notoriously chatty drunk.

The first time they had all drank together as a group was in freshman year, sitting in a cramped circle around Roman and Patton’s shared dorm room, playing some drinking game that Roman had found online and nursing some truly disgusting vodka mixers with whatever beverages they could scavenge from the vending machines. It had been two years before he and Patton had started dating, and at the time, Janus had been determinedly ignoring the way his stomach swooped at the sound of his laugh like a bird dipping and gliding in the air. He knew fully well from his older sister what happened to friend groups when two of the members started dating. Despite having only met in August, these were some of the closest friends that Janus had ever had, and he wasn’t willing to give it up on the off chance that Patton liked him back.

On his left, Logan took a shot of New Amsterdam, his face scrunching up in disgust as the others cheered. On his right, Patton, leaning against his dresser and eyes slightly unfocused, shushed them halfheartedly, mumbling something about keeping quiet for the RA. Remus reached to the deck of cards in the center of their lopsided circle, and drew the top one, crowing, “Queen!”

“Whaddoes that one do again?” Virgil asked, readjusting the weighted dinosaur from Patton’s bed he was holding in his lap. He hadn’t relinquished it all night.

“I gotta ask someone a question, then that person asks someone else a question, and so on. First person who doesn’t want to answer drinks. Logan–what’s the worst grade you’ve ever gotten in a class?”

Logan blushed beet red and glared down into his red solo cup, as if trying to divine the answer from his rancid blue Gatorade mixer. At last, he mumbled, “A B. Plus. In junior year English.”

They all roundly booed him.

Logan straightened up and cast his gaze around the circle. “Um…Patton. What is the worst thing you’ve done in the past week?”

Patton’s eyes immediately widened, and he looked guiltily down at the floor. “Yes’trday, I…killed a spider.”

“The horror,” said Remus.

“I didn’ mean to, it jus’ startled me!” Patton said, the alcohol slurring his words together. They had never gotten drunk together as a group before, and Janus suspected that this may be Patton’s first time getting drunk at all.

“‘S alright, Pat,” Virgil snorted, not much more sober than Patton was. “‘S your turn.”

Patton immediately perked up. “So I ask a question?”

“Yep!” Roman said from Patton’s other side.

“Can be anything,” Remus added.

Patton thought for a moment, then turned to Janus so suddenly he startled. Patton’s face was inches away from his, eyes glittering, a pretty flush on his cheeks. ”Janus!” he chirped, and nearly tipped forward into Janus’ lap. “Do you like me?”

The reaction was immediate. Remus choked on his drink, and Roman made a noise that was somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a delighted gasp. Logan’s mouth fell open as he gaped at Patton, and Virgil, despite his inebriation, tugged at Patton’s hand firmly and gave him a pointed glare, hissing, “Pat.”

Janus sat rooted to the spot, the world seeming to tip beneath him. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Patton, looking at him so earnestly with those melted chocolate eyes, his lips slightly parted. He was so close that Janus could count the freckles on his face.

He could feel the response on his tongue; could feel the shape of the words, the weight of them. He opened his mouth, and managed a humiliating sound that was something like a frog croaking, which made the twins laugh even harder.

Yes, his brain screamed at him. Yes, I do, and if you keep looking at me like that, I might fall in love with you, too.

Instead, he took a sip of his drink.

~

Now he sat on the couch, margarita in hand and trying his best to ignore the way his nerve endings lit up at every square inch of Patton’s body pressed against his side.

They were all a few drinks deep by now; the twins had insisted on playing drinking games, despite the fact that they were certainly getting too old for such things. Still, it was a welcome distraction: facing off against Roman and Virgil with Remus in a game of pong as Logan and Patton watched bemusedly from the couch was a welcome distraction. At some point, though, he had tapped out, swapping places with Logan, and now he found himself on the couch with Patton.

The room had gone pleasantly fuzzy around the edges; Janus closed his eyes, allowing himself to savor the feeling. His friends were together, the house was quaint and cozy, and Patton was leaning against him, his warmth as comforting as Janus remembered. He could almost pretend that everything was as it should be; that he and Patton were still together, and that they could sit like this again, curled up on each other, not having to worry about jumping back as if the other had burned them.

Janus shoved the thought away; it wasn’t fair to Patton to let himself pretend. They had broken up, and Patton had probably moved on by now. Regardless of whatever lingering feelings Janus still had for him, he needed to respect that.

Patton shifted, and his head lolled gently against Janus’ shoulder. He had been strangely quiet all night—at least he was keeping his lips sealed about the agreement—but Janus was being very much reminded what a cuddly drunk Patton was.

He supposed he should be grateful; if Patton hadn’t decided to sit next to him, it might have seemed suspicious. But him sitting here brought on a new host of problems, chief of which is that Janus would have given anything for the two of them to stay there forever.

He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his mind. The breakup was his own fault, after all; if he had wanted this forever, then he should have stepped up when he had the chance. But still, that wouldn’t have been fair to Patton.

Things are better this way, he told himself firmly. He had been repeating the words over and over again for the past few months, hoping that one day, he’d believe them.

He shifted, and found himself nose-to-nose with Patton, who was blearily blinking up at him through long eyelashes. Janus didn’t know how long he had been staring at him like that.

“Hello,” Janus said, hoping that the flush in his cheeks could be chalked up to the alcohol. “Enjoying the party?”

“Mmmhm,” Patton mumbled sleepily. “Dr’nk too much.”

“I can see that.”

Patton’s brow furrowed, face scrunched up in a pout. “Mean.”

“Honest.” He could feel Patton’s soft curls tickling his chin. “Perhaps we should get you to bed.”

“No,” he whined. “‘M comfy.”

“You won’t be when you wake up on the couch tomorrow with a terrible hangover.”

He poked Janus in the arm. “You’re comfy.”

“Patton,” Janus said, sterner this time. This—whatever this was—couldn’t happen. “Come on, let’s get up.”

“You going to bed?” Roman asked from the pong table, wincing as Logan sank a shot into one of his cups.

“Mhm,” Janus said, looping an arm around a very reluctant Patton. “Someone had a bit too much to drink.”

“‘M fine,” Patton insisted, an argument that was made less convincing by the way he started hiccuping.

“Bed, Patton.”

Remus snorted. “Don’t let him trip up the stairs!” He called after them.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Janus said back easily, even as Patton stumbled over his own feet.

They were almost to the landing, Patton tucked against Janus’ side, when Janus heard him mumble, almost too quietly for him to hear it, “I wish you din’ break up with me.”

If Janus hadn’t been so focused on getting him safely to bed, he might have accidentally dropped him. A million emotions clawed their way through his body, filling up his heart: guilt, longing, anger towards himself.

He pushed them all down and readjusted Patton under his arm. “I promise, Patton. It’s better this way.”

TAGLIST: @bluejay-of-the-west @scare-amor @harmonialcollisions @emoprincey @dragonboots @just-my-interpretation @spicycreativity @infawrit10 @emophoenixreborn @6-paris-6 @thedeadandthedecaying @moceit @lily-janus @instantromannoodles @betamash @nandysparadox @halfhissandwich @sanderssidesthehouse @littlerat2 @giraffeboat

[stardustsides]

Patton. Just Patton.

[stardustsides]

Prinxiety week day 7

Music, Breathe

I decided to combine prompts for days

@prinxietyweek

[stardustsides]

my writing masterlist

since i’ve finally hit a point where i’ve posted enough of my writing that i can make one of these!! pretty sparse rn, more to follow :)

oneshots:

a midwinter’s tale : roman can’t say he’s ever had a stranger camp out in his yard before. he also can’t say that he’s ever met someone who carries their broken heart in a paper bag, but hey, first time for everything, right? (romantic royality)

what living is for : patton’s health is failing, and he and roman pass a quiet afternoon on the beach. (little women au, with jo!roman and beth!patton; brotherly royality)

beauty in the way of things : logan and patton pass a lazy day together after the end of the world. (romantic logicality)

you’re such a heavenly view : logan loves the night sky, and roman loves to see his fiancé happy. A stargazing date ensues. (romantic logince)

we’ll all be here forever : during the group’s high school grad party, patton and logan have a quiet revelation while looking through their yearbooks. (romatic logicality)

drabbles:

in these small hours : logan comes home from work, and patton is there to greet him. (romantic logicality)

the boy and the ghost : snippet of a longer wip; how medium!virgil first met ghost!patton (fatherly moxiety)

multichapter fics:

love is a beach : patton and janus broke up months ago. the problem? they still haven’t told their friends, and their annual beach trip is looming. not wanting to break the news and ruin the vacation, they come to an…unconventional agreement. (romantic moceit, background prinxiety)

[stardustsides]

Love is a Beach

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Patton and Janus broke up months ago. The problem? They still haven’t told their friends, and their annual beach trip is looming. Not wanting to break the news and ruin the vacation, they come to an…unconventional agreement.

Word Count: 2597

Pairings: moceit, background prinxiety

Content Warnings: drinking, breakups, mild innuendo

Author’s Note: I finally wrote the fake-dating-exes “there’s only one bed” moceit fic I’ve been threatening you all with!! I tagged everyone who expressed interest in reading this when I posted about it months ago. This fic is loosely based off of the novel “Happy Place” by Emily Henry :)

~

Not for the first time, the rational part of Patton’s brain was telling him that this was a bad idea. He had known it since they cooked it up, but he guessed that it was one thing to talk about it and another entirely to put it into action. He stood in the driveway, holding a bag of pool noodles and feeling slightly nauseous.

The rush of blood in his ears nearly drowned out the familiar chatter of his friends: Logan reading their checklist aloud in his typical drone, the twins cracking jokes from the backseat, Virgil groaning and telling them to shut it, trying and failing to smother the grin on his face. It was a perfect tableau of the people he loved most in the world, who, under different circumstances, he would have been thrilled to spend the week on vacation with, as he was every year.

As Janus loaded the last of the bags into the trunk, Patton met his eyes, and looked away as quickly as he could, staring at the gravel by his feet. Off to a flying start.

Plastering a smile onto his face, he clapped his hands. “Everyone ready?” He asked cheerfully, plopping into the driver’s seat. “AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!” Roman and Remus crowed in unison, to which Logan rolled his eyes. Janus slid into the passenger’s seat next to him with the grace of a lethargic cat. Patton dutifully kept his eyes on the rear view mirror as he pulled out of the driveway.

“I’m trusting you on aux, Jan,” Roman called from the back. “You better not disappoint!” Roman was usually the DJ of their road trips, as he always called dibs on shotgun (“dibs” used loosely, as he’d fight anyone who dared take his place as the resident passenger princess), but he had graciously relinquished his seat to Janus for this particular trip.

In fact, all of them had been exceptionally kind to both him and Janus for the past few weeks; Virgil had dropped a homemade loaf of sourdough at his apartment last week, saying that he “made too much”; Logan had told Patton that he’d pay the gas bill that Patton’s minivan was racking up for this trip; and, of course, Roman wouldn’t hear a word against Patton and Janus taking the master bedroom in the beach house they were renting.

It would melt Patton’s heart if it didn’t make his stomach twist with guilt.

He knew exactly where it was all coming from: they were expecting a proposal soon.

When Patton and Janus had first started dating in junior year of college, they could sense the wariness in their friends; they had all been inseparable since they first met in freshman year, and their concern that it would ruin the group dynamic was palpable.

That had been six years ago, though, and it really had only brought them all closer together. Janus and Patton had earned the nicknames “Mom” and “Dad”, respectively, and the others had all delighted in the prospect of one day being uncles to their kids.

And so, six years on in their relationship, everyone was clearly trying to contain their excitement about the proposal that they knew had to be coming soon.

So no, they couldn’t just tell the others about the breakup.

When it happened two months ago, Patton had fretted for days over how to break the news. Their trip to the beach, which had been a yearly tradition since they were sophomores in college, was looming, and he couldn’t stand the thought of breaking their hearts. His own was shattered already.

So when Janus showed up to move his stuff out of their apartment and suggested that they not tell the others until after the trip, it seemed like the best course of action at the time.

Now, the reality of the situation was really settling in as he drove on the freeway. He was facing down a week of playing lovebirds with his ex-boyfriend, actively deceiving the people in his life who knew him best, so yeah, you could say his resolve weakened a bit.

“Just to confirm, to avoid any confusion,” Logan began for what had to have been the fifteenth time that week. “Patton and Janus will be staying in the master bedroom. Roman and Virgil will take the first guest room, and myself and Remus will be staying in the second one, correct?”

Patton caught Roman’s eye in the rear view and exchanged a wry glance. Logan was clearly reiterating the sleeping arrangements over and over again in a futile attempt to get out of staying with Remus. Based on the way that Virgil had flushed bright red when Roman declared that they could room together, though, Logan’s efforts were completely in vain. Patton smiled a little in spite of himself. Virgil’s massive crush on Roman was one of the worst-kept secrets in the group; everyone knew about it except, of course, Roman himself, who was almost impressively oblivious.

“Yep,” Roman replied. “That’s what we all agreed on two weeks ago, L.” Logan said nothing in response and turned to stare out the window.

Their planning day two weeks ago was the first time that Patton had seen Janus since he had moved out. It also served as their “test run” for their charade, and it was just about as soul-crushing as Patton was anticipating it would be. He sat as close to Janus as he could bear, and forced himself to keep smiling, even as Roman showed them pictures of the room that they’d be sharing—he wasn’t really paying attention, as he was too preoccupied with the proximity of Janus’ knee to his. A wisp of blond hair escaped from Janus’ bun, as it often did, and Patton fought the urge to tuck it back. Instead, he gulped down a glass of the wine Logan had brought a bit too eagerly and studiously ignored the look it got him from Janus, who had the audacity to look amused.

Easy-peasy, he thought to himself, desperately avoiding Janus’s gaze.

All he’d have to do is make it through the week. One week, and then they could drop the charade and stop the lying and nothing would ever be the same in the group again.

He’d poured himself another glass of wine.

“Are we almost there?” Remus whined from the back row of seats, jolting Patton back to the present.

“Still another hour or so, Ree,” he responded, glancing at the GPS. Remus let out an anguished groan.

“Would you like a book to pass the time?” Logan asked, reaching into the bag at his feet. Every year, they’d all place bets on how many books Logan would read on vacation. His record was currently sitting at twelve.

“I’d rather have my arm torn off by wolves, no offense.”

“You’re quiet, Janus,” Virgil remarked.

“Hm?” Janus said, jolting a little beside him. Patton gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, but it filled him with a grim satisfaction to know that at the very least, he was on edge too. “Oh, just lost in thought. I’m ready to get into bed.”

“I’ll bet,” Remus grinned devilishly.

“Shut up, Remus,” Virgil laughed, smacking his arm.

“Anyways, we’ll be there soon enough,” Patton said, hoping that the frantic pitch in his voice came across as embarrassment. He could feel the hot blush creeping across his face. “And I’ll make spaghetti once we get there!”

“You don’t have to do that,” Janus said, and Patton startled. “You just drove, the least we could do is cook dinner.”

“Oh,” Patton managed. “That’s alright, I really don’t mind.”

“I’ll order pizza,” he said decisively, and Patton felt a mix of annoyance and appreciation. He’s so thoughtful. He always had been.

“Okay, if that’s alright with everyone else,” he replied unsteadily. “Thanks, honey.”

The pet name was out before he could stop himself, a habit the product of six years together. He thanked his lucky stars that he was driving, so he wouldn’t have to look at Janus.

“Of course, dear.”

His face burned.

Easy-peasy.

~

The house was stupidly perfect. Nestled in the heart of a picturesque beach town, it stood behind a picket fence, with white shutters and blue trim, framed by yellow rose bushes. It looked exactly like the kind of house he and Janus had always talked about moving to once they got married, and Patton’s heart gave another painful twist.

Everyone clambered out of the car, Remus darting forward to unlock the front door, everyone else grabbing their luggage. Patton breathed in the sea air and tried to steady himself.

The interior was just as lovely as the outside; light blue wood paneled walls decorated with paintings of the beach, with a pristine white couch that Patton had no doubt somebody would spill some brightly colored beverage on by the end of the week. Roman was breezing from room to room, showing everyone around, clearly quite pleased with himself for being the one to pick out their lodgings.

“You can choose which bed you want, I don’t mind either way,” he was saying to Virgil, their luggage piled in the center of their room.

“The place is beautiful, Ro!” Patton exclaimed as he poked his head through the doorway. Roman swelled with pride.

“Wait until you see your room! Here, lemme show you—it’s the one upstairs, at the end of the hall!”

“There’s an upstairs?” Patton asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yep! You and Janus will have the floor all to yourself,” Roman said, throwing a playful wink at him. Patton hoped that the giggle he forced out was convincing. “Here, let me help you get your stuff upstairs.”

They trudged to the top of the stairs, bags in tow. As Roman pushed open the door to the room at the top, clearly awaiting his reaction, Patton schooled his features into what he hoped resembled joy.

The room was lovely. There was a seafoam green loveseat in the corner, a big window thrown open to reveal a clear view of the bay on the far side, white linen curtains dancing in the light breeze, and in the middle, of course, there was a plush king sized bed, covered in throw pillows shaped like seashells.

He had known that there would only be one bed. Obviously there would only be one bed. It was the master bedroom and him and Janus had been together for six years, of course they’d be sharing a bed.

But knowing that beforehand and seeing the bed in person were two entirely different things.

“Oh, Ro,” he managed. “It’s…it’s lovely. Thank you.”

Janus appeared in the doorway behind Roman, holding his own luggage.

“Of course, Pat,” Roman said, squeezing his hand. “I knew you’d love it. I’ll let you two get settled!” And with that, he slipped out, shutting the door behind him with a decisive click.

The silence stretched out, filling the room. It dawned on Patton that this was their first moment alone together in months. He felt uncomfortably warm. Finally, as the silence threatened to swallow them whole, Janus huffed. “You,” he began, “are a terrible actor.”

Patton opened his mouth and closed it. There was so much to say, and yet he could find no words at all. The tension was unbearable. He wanted to take Janus’s face in his hands, to search his gaze until he could fix whatever had broken between them. Instead, he pursed his lips and turned away, hoping that Janus wouldn’t hear the waver in his voice. “You knew that already.”

“I did,” Janus responded.

Patton cleared his throat. “There’s only one bed.”

“I’ve noticed.” Patton hated how utterly unbothered he sounded. So calm, cool, and collected while Patton was unraveling at the seams. As if six years down the drain meant nothing to him.

He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “So…?”

“So?” He could hear the edges of amusement creep into Janus’ voice, and his face burned.

“So, what do you want to do about it?”

Janus sighed. “I could sleep on the floor, if you want.”

“What? No! You—I wouldn’t make you do that!” He stammered out.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You sleeping on the floor for a week because of me would make me uncomfortable, Janus,” Patton shot back. “Please, let’s just—it’s fine. It’s a big bed, and it’s only a week.”

Janus was silent for a moment, staring at him. Patton tried not to squirm under his gaze.

“Fine. If that’s what you want,” he said finally.

“It is,” he responded, certain that his face was spectacularly red. “Um. I’m going to—grab my things.” He headed for the door.

Janus raised an eyebrow towards his luggage already piled in the doorway but said nothing.

He flew down the stairs, cheeks on fire, and into the kitchen, where Virgil was busy unpacking the food for the week.

“Oh, hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Patton responded, unsure why he was already so out of breath. “Um. I’ll cook tonight.”

“I thought we were ordering pizza, like Jan said?”

“I know, I know, I just—have a lot of energy right now, I want to keep myself busy.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows. “Uh, alright. Everything okay?”

“Yep!” he said, wincing at the strain in his voice. “I just had too much coffee this morning before the drive, so. You know.” Terrible actor, indeed.

Virgil looked unconvinced. “Okay, if you’re sure. Just, uh—take it easy, alright? It’s supposed to be a vacation.”

“Says you,” he said, grinning a little and poking Virgil’s arm. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“This isn’t about me.”

“It is now!” Virgil huffed.

“Just…take care of yourself, okay?” he asked, his voice softening a bit, hints of real concern in his eyes. “You’ve been a little…uh, off, lately—“

“Off?” Patton’s stomach twisted.

“Not off,” he amended. “Just…tightly wound? And, y’know, I get why, but—“

“What?” He asked, panicked. If Virgil already knew…

Virgil looked abjectly confused, holding up his hands. “Just, y’know…” he lowered his voice a little bit. “The proposal?”

Oh. Yeah. That made more sense. It did nothing to ease his nerves, though.

“Right,” he choked out. Virgil stared at him for a long moment, his eyes searching his face. Finally, he looked away, sighing.

“All I wanted to say was that I want you to take care of yourself. It’s a vacation, and none of us want you to spend it working yourself to the bone for our sake.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I know, Virge. Thanks.”

“‘Course,” he said resignedly, awkwardly tapping his fingers against the countertop. There was an uncertain air between them, and Patton did his best to ignore it. He couldn’t have Virgil worrying about him—he wouldn’t have it. Otherwise, what was this whole charade even for?

He helped Virgil unpack the rest of the food, trying his best to diffuse the tension between them. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when Virgil finally retreated into his room, resting his face in his hands.

He shouldn’t have come here. He should have pretended he had the flu, or told them that his apartment was robbed, or that his dog had gotten into chemical waste and was now a mutant wreaking havoc on the city, or—or something.

But then, that wouldn’t have really done anything—the others would have just rescheduled the trip for him, and then he’d have felt doubly bad.

He glanced at the clock, blinking green above the oven, sighed, and uncorked a bottle of wine.

Whatever happened tonight, at least he wouldn’t be sober for it.

~

Taglist (let me know if you want to be removed!)

@moceit @lily-janus @instantromannoodles

@bluejay-of-the-west @scare-amor @harmonialcollisions @emoprincey @dragonboots @just-my-interpretation @spicycreativity @infawrit10 @emophoenixreborn @6-paris-6 @thedeadandthedecaying @red-imeanblue

[stardustsides]

old fandom stuff i miss:

the dark sides becoming small animals when stressed. (usually raccoon, snake, octopus)

terrible youtube comic dubs.

pattons full name for human aus always being patton hart

virgil and remus just beating the shit out of eachother in genuinely fucked up ways. i love that.

logan wearing the unicorn onesie as default jammies

logan always being logan croft

janus being the dark side mom. ik some still do that but. i miss ittt

in general the dark sides being fucking derangedly violent. i love that shit.

all the pride art. we should rainbow the sides more often

virgil and remy always being besties/siblings. i loved that shit.

[stardustsides]

figayda from fantasy high except it’s intrulogical. is this anything

[stardustsides]

and if i were to write a multichapter moceit fic in which the sides are all on vacation together and patton and janus broke up months ago but didn’t have the hearts to tell the others so they have to pretend that they’re still together for the entirety of the trip (with background prinxiety in which virgil is crushing HARD on roman). what then

[stardustsides]

A Midwinter’s Tale

Synopsis: Roman can’t say he’s ever had a stranger camp out in his yard before. He also can’t say that he’s ever met someone who carries their broken heart in a paper bag, but hey, first time for everything, right?

Ship: Royality

Word Count: 2,022

Content Warnings: Divorce mention, death mention, car accident mention

Author’s Note: This is a little wintery oneshot based on the play “Almost, Maine” by John Cariani, which I was in a few years ago! This is magical realism, so just suspend your disbelief :-)

~

There was a man in Roman’s yard.

Roman watched him from his window—he was hard to make out in the dark, but he was fairly sure that he wasn’t from Almost; he’d recognize him if he were.

He stared as the man wrestled with what looked like a tent—is he pitching a tent in my yard?—and set up a telescope, angling his face towards the sky full of stars. There had to be thousands of them—that was one of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere, no light pollution—and although he couldn’t clearly make out the finer details of the man’s face, he could see the way he clasped his hands in front of his chest in utter delight.

For a moment, Roman contemplated just leaving him to his own devices and going to bed, but he had to admit that he was intrigued—it wasn’t every day that someone would camp out in your yard, after all, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone from out of town came to visit.

He hastily stuffed his feet into his slippers, slipped his warmest robe over his flannel pajamas, and padded downstairs. He could see the man much better out of the downstairs window, and, for reasons he couldn’t really explain, he spent a moment just watching him stare at the sky.

After a second, though, he realized that he was probably going to look like a total creep if the man saw him, so he decisively opened the door and quietly slipped out into the freezing winter air.

He shivered—growing up in northern Maine had instilled a high tolerance for cold weather in him, but a small part of him still wished that he had worn a coat—and stood on his doorstep. The man didn’t seem to notice him.

“Um…hello,” Roman started, venturing closer, and the man startled a bit, turning to look at him.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, both mittened hands springing to his heart, possessively clutching a brown paper bag. In the back of his mind, Roman registered that the man was very pretty—he had what he’d describe as “puppy dog eyes”, big and wide and brown, partially obscured behind a pair of round glasses, and a generous amount of freckles scattered across his rosy cheeks and nose. He had both a knit pom-pom hat and earmuffs on, but Roman could still make out a curl of brown hair sticking out from underneath it. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there!”

“It’s okay,” Roman responded, looking quizzically at him. “Can I…help you?”

“Oh! No, that’s okay, thanks!” He said cheerily. “I’m just here to see the northern lights.”

“…Okay,” Roman said slowly, cocking his head. “I’m sorry, it’s just—you’re in my yard—?”

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind!” He chirped. “I just needed somewhere to camp for the night, and this is just such a great stargazing location because of how open it is, so I’ll only be here for tonight and then I’ll be gone!” He paused. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said again emphatically. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” Roman said, smiling a bit. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh! Good!” The man sighed with relief. “Y’know, it said in your brochure that you wouldn’t mind—see, I’m a hiker, and it said in this brochure—“ he produced a thick pamphlet from the inside pocket of his winter coat, “that Maine people generally won’t mind, because you’re all about exploration and adventure and all that, so!” He let out a happy huff of breath. “I’m glad that you’re so kind and that you’re letting me stay here, because I really need to!”

Roman tilted his head, amused. The man was all smiles, and the way he spoke was endearing, as if he couldn’t talk as quickly as he thought of new things to say. “Why do you need to?”

“Because I need to see the Northern Lights tonight! And this is the perfect spot! It’s so open,” he repeated.

“It used to be a potato farm,” Roman explained. The man nodded.

“Makes sense. No trees! Are you a farmer?”

“Oh, no. I’m a waiter,” Roman paused. “I’m really a writer, though.”

The man gasped and clasped his hands together. “A writer? What do you write?”

“Oh, mostly just romances. I’d like to get more into fantasy, though.”

“Wow,” the man breathed, looking genuinely amazed. Roman was oddly flattered. “That’s incredible! Wow. A real writer! Are you published? Wait, no—that’s a stupid question, it doesn’t make you any less of a writer if you’re not published, of course, and I know that there are some people who just write for themselves! Are you one of those?”

Roman couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the word-vomit. The man was looking at him, those big brown eyes wide and unfathomably earnest, and Roman’s heart felt a little melty all of a sudden.

“Don’t worry! I’m technically published, in the Almost town paper, so I have an audience of about twenty.” The man laughed, a light, bell-like sound, and Roman’s smile only grew wider. “But I’ve been trying to sell my creative work to actual publishers. You’re right, though—I do mainly write for myself, and what I’d want to read.”

“That’s such a great talent to have,” he sighed wistfully. “I’ve never been much of a writer—I’m more of a traveller, meet all the people I can, y’know? Gosh, don’t you think it’s crazy how every person you’ve ever passed on the street have their own lives that are just as complex as yours? That’s so much life!”

“So many stories,” Roman agreed, and the man nodded, the tuft of curly hair bouncing against his forehead. “That feeling’s called ‘sonder’, by the way.”

The man’s face lit up. “Really? I had no idea there was a word for it!”

Roman grinned. “Yeah, well…it’s funny, because when you live in a town as small as this, you never really get that feeling, because you already know who everyone is.”

“That’s true! I hadn’t thought of that!” The man paused for a moment, thinking. “What town is this, by the way? It’s not on my map.”

“Well, we call ourselves ‘Almost’, but it wouldn’t be on your map, because we’re not technically a town. To be a town, you’ve gotta be organized, and, well, we almost got around to doing that, but never did, so now we’re just ‘Almost’.”

That bell-like laugh again. “Well, it’s lovely up here. So much sky.” He gasped. “Oh! Where are my manners? Set up a tent on someone’s lawn and don’t even tell them your name! I’m Patton.”

“Patton,” Roman repeated, trying it out. It was a soft-sounding name, the kind of name that sounds familiar even when you’ve never met anyone else with it. It suited him. “I’m Roman.”

Patton smiled, and it was dazzling. “Nice to meet you, Roman.”

And for a moment, they stood in companionable silence, staring up at the sky and listening to the sounds of the midwinter night all around them, when suddenly Patton gasped, a ragged, shuddery breath that made Roman jump.

“I need that!” He yelped, pointing at his brown paper bag that had somehow found itself into Roman’s hands. Roman stared at it quizzically. He didn’t remember taking it.

“Oh, I’m sorry—“ he started, handing it back to Patton. He snatched it back and held it close to his chest, relaxing a little.

“No problem,” Patton replied, infinitely calmer than he was a second ago. Roman stared, bewildered. When Patton made no move to explain what had just happened, Roman cleared his throat again.

“So,” he started. “Where are you from?”

“Oh,” Patton started, and waved his hand around vaguely. “I wander a lot, you know, travel around, but my husband and I had an apartment in Colorado.”

“Oh, you’re married?” Roman felt the tiniest twinge of disappointment.

“Well, not anymore,” he responded. “We had been separated for about a year, but since he died recently, I’m here to pay my respects.”

“Oh,” Roman said dumbly, unsure of what to say at such a revelation. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Patton shrugged, but his eyes stayed trained carefully on the sky. “My mom used to tell me stories when I was little about how when you die, the northern lights are the pathway leading you to the afterlife. Like, the lights are the souls of the recently departed and all that. So I have to see the Northern lights, because that’s him.”

“Oh,” Roman repeated.

Patton glanced over at him sheepishly. “I know it’s silly.”

“No,” Roman blurted. “It’s not silly at all.”

Patton smiled then, a sweet, sad thing that made Roman feel warm from the inside out, like drinking a mug of hot chocolate or a bowl of his favorite soup on a cold day.

And then Patton gasped again.

“I need that!” he wheezed, clutching his chest and grasping at the brown paper bag that had, once again, inexplicably found itself in Roman’s grasp. “It’s—my heart, I need it, give it back—“

Roman practically threw the bag at him, and, once more, Patton’s expression settled immediately. He looked completely normal, if not a little embarrassed.

“Thanks,” he said, catching his breath. “Sorry.”

“Um…no problem,” Roman said belatedly. A thousand questions were firing in his head, and he grasped at them desperately, willing his voice to work. “Your heart?” he managed finally. “I’m sorry, is that what you—?”

“Oh,” Patton looked down bashfully, the embarrassed smile on his face contradicting the ever so slight waver in his voice. “Yeah. Uh…well, last year, I came home early from work, and found my husband in bed with someone else, and, well, when I saw, my heart just broke. Shattered. Into nineteen pieces.” He held up the paper bag and shook it. “Put it in here, and I’ve had to carry it around ever since.”

“Oh,” Roman began, unsure of how to respond. “I’m so sorry.”

“A few months later, he came back—knocked on my door, begging me to take him back, and—well, I’ve never had the easiest time saying ‘no’ to people, so telling him to leave was the hardest thing I’ve ever done…he was so upset that when he left, he didn’t notice the car headed right for him.” His voice broke off, and he lapsed into silence. “I can’t help but feel like I killed him.”

“No,” Roman said, with a conviction that surprised both himself and Patton. “Patton, I—I’ve only known you for ten minutes, and even I can see that you’re one of the most goodhearted people out there. It isn’t your fault.”

Patton hastily wiped a tear from his cheek. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…you must think I’m crazy, a strange man with a broken heart in a paper bag crying about killing his ex-husband on your lawn.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” And just like that, the bag somehow found itself in Roman’s hands again. He held it out to Patton. Patton hesitated.

“It’s never done that before.”

“Does it hurt?” Roman asked, suddenly curious.

“Sometimes. But in an empty way, like how your stomach hurts when you’re really hungry. Mostly, it just feels hollow.”

“Have you ever tried to…piece it back together?”

“Yes, but it’s never worked. Glue, tape…they don’t stick.”

Roman clutched the bag tighter. “…May I?”

Patton’s eyes grew impossibly wide, and he nodded haltingly. Carefully, Roman opened the bag, and peered into it. It looked like shattered red glass. He took out two pieces. He could hear Patton’s breath catch.

They sealed back together seamlessly.

They looked at each other in stunned silence. Patton held his chest, but he didn’t seem to be in any pain.

The Northern Lights exploded overhead. Patton gasped, and tilted his head back in awe. “Goodbye,” he whispered into the night.

He looked back down at Roman, who had found himself on one knee. He normally would have been mortified, but instead, all he could do was hold out the delicate glass heart, whole and lovely, to Patton.

He smiled tearfully down at Roman and laughed a bit. “And hello.”

[stardustsides]

i need to be put down bc why am i thinking about a tbosas au with janus as coriolanus, roman as lucy gray, and patton as sejanus

[stardustsides]

(if they are dating)

- they cook together! patton loves to cook, and logan finds following recipes meditative. a lot of the time they won’t even talk, just cook in happy silence side by side

- patton buys logan plants as surprise gifts every now and then; logan is a huge plant dad due to his interest in botany (and he enjoys gardening)

- logan also likes to get pat surprise gifts, but his are a lot more random, mostly small trinkets and things that he saw that reminded him of patton (he found a small blue ceramic bird in an antique shop once, it now lives on patton’s nightstand)

- patton reads every single book logan recommends to him so that they can talk about it; they make dinner and have a little book club together

- whenever pat is feeling down, logan puts on songs that he knows he likes and dances around the living room with him until he’s grinning and giggling

- they both watch hgtv RELIGIOUSLY and will make fun of the people on it together

they lov each other :-)

What would logan and patton do to make each other smile?

[stardustsides]

Okay Okay Okay—More Samder Slides headcanons time..You’ve opened Pandora’s Box…

Personal headcanons/design things:

Keeps food in his pockets and then forgets it’s there. The way I know the amount of crumbs are insane.

Re-attached his logo with haphazard stitching so it matched Virgil’s :]

Always loses one sock in each pair. ALWAYS.

Has THE most insane takes. Leads to a lot of fun Patton and Logan discussions actually (*Hits them with the Trolley problem*: DISCUSS)

Patton would take the Utilitarian approach I think…Would think you should always sacrifice the one person in the trolley problem instead of the five because it minimizes the most suffering).

To that point, I really do think all the sides would enjoy watching The Good Place. Probably also The Magic School Bus.

All film media in Patton’s room is on VHS. Even if it came out recently. He made them that way.

I know we’ve literally seen his room in canon but in my heart it looks like Howl’s Room in Howl’s Moving Castle (insane levels of eclectic).

Has set the kitchen on fire 237856 times. It will happen again.

Has hand-made bracelets (themed each of them around one of the other sides).

Also has a hand-made doll collection…Roman’s doll is kind of like a traditional princely doll, Logan is probably a cube craft doll, Virgil’s is Coraline style (later redoes it with Remus’ help to add Virgil’s extra legs and mandibles (they’re articulated. He’s very proud)). Remus is a finger puppet and Janus is a sock puppet (those last two might change later)…

To that point: he still has a spider phobia, but he’s working on it (mostly for Virgil. A lot of it is him being like “could you please describe “x” to me, or draw me a picture before you revert so I know what to expect? :).” It’s going well.

One time they tried theorizing what kind of spider Virgil was. Patton immediately threw in Jumping Spider (he’s not) but Logan was happy to hear Patton had done some kind of research into something.

He’s Roman’s test audience/proofreader. He may be a Yes Man, but he’s good at spotting when character motives are unclear in a story/just generally to bounce ideas around with. They have days where they parallel play. Patton does his arts and crafts and Roman does his writing. At the end of it, they swap and critique.

Me throwing my takes at you (thank you for coming to my TED Talk):

[stardustsides]

they’re very gay actually

[stardustsides]

A Midwinter’s Tale

Synopsis: Roman can’t say he’s ever had a stranger camp out in his yard before. He also can’t say that he’s ever met someone who carries their broken heart in a paper bag, but hey, first time for everything, right?

Ship: Royality

Word Count: 2,022

Content Warnings: Divorce mention, death mention, car accident mention

Author’s Note: This is a little wintery oneshot based on the play “Almost, Maine” by John Cariani, which I was in a few years ago! This is magical realism, so just suspend your disbelief :-)

~

There was a man in Roman’s yard.

Roman watched him from his window—he was hard to make out in the dark, but he was fairly sure that he wasn’t from Almost; he’d recognize him if he were.

He stared as the man wrestled with what looked like a tent—is he pitching a tent in my yard?—and set up a telescope, angling his face towards the sky full of stars. There had to be thousands of them—that was one of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere, no light pollution—and although he couldn’t clearly make out the finer details of the man’s face, he could see the way he clasped his hands in front of his chest in utter delight.

For a moment, Roman contemplated just leaving him to his own devices and going to bed, but he had to admit that he was intrigued—it wasn’t every day that someone would camp out in your yard, after all, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone from out of town came to visit.

He hastily stuffed his feet into his slippers, slipped his warmest robe over his flannel pajamas, and padded downstairs. He could see the man much better out of the downstairs window, and, for reasons he couldn’t really explain, he spent a moment just watching him stare at the sky.

After a second, though, he realized that he was probably going to look like a total creep if the man saw him, so he decisively opened the door and quietly slipped out into the freezing winter air.

He shivered—growing up in northern Maine had instilled a high tolerance for cold weather in him, but a small part of him still wished that he had worn a coat—and stood on his doorstep. The man didn’t seem to notice him.

“Um…hello,” Roman started, venturing closer, and the man startled a bit, turning to look at him.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, both mittened hands springing to his heart, possessively clutching a brown paper bag. In the back of his mind, Roman registered that the man was very pretty—he had what he’d describe as “puppy dog eyes”, big and wide and brown, partially obscured behind a pair of round glasses, and a generous amount of freckles scattered across his rosy cheeks and nose. He had both a knit pom-pom hat and earmuffs on, but Roman could still make out a curl of brown hair sticking out from underneath it. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there!”

“It’s okay,” Roman responded, looking quizzically at him. “Can I…help you?”

“Oh! No, that’s okay, thanks!” He said cheerily. “I’m just here to see the northern lights.”

“…Okay,” Roman said slowly, cocking his head. “I’m sorry, it’s just—you’re in my yard—?”

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind!” He chirped. “I just needed somewhere to camp for the night, and this is just such a great stargazing location because of how open it is, so I’ll only be here for tonight and then I’ll be gone!” He paused. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said again emphatically. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” Roman said, smiling a bit. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh! Good!” The man sighed with relief. “Y’know, it said in your brochure that you wouldn’t mind—see, I’m a hiker, and it said in this brochure—“ he produced a thick pamphlet from the inside pocket of his winter coat, “that Maine people generally won’t mind, because you’re all about exploration and adventure and all that, so!” He let out a happy huff of breath. “I’m glad that you’re so kind and that you’re letting me stay here, because I really need to!”

Roman tilted his head, amused. The man was all smiles, and the way he spoke was endearing, as if he couldn’t talk as quickly as he thought of new things to say. “Why do you need to?”

“Because I need to see the Northern Lights tonight! And this is the perfect spot! It’s so open,” he repeated.

“It used to be a potato farm,” Roman explained. The man nodded.

“Makes sense. No trees! Are you a farmer?”

“Oh, no. I’m a waiter,” Roman paused. “I’m really a writer, though.”

The man gasped and clasped his hands together. “A writer? What do you write?”

“Oh, mostly just romances. I’d like to get more into fantasy, though.”

“Wow,” the man breathed, looking genuinely amazed. Roman was oddly flattered. “That’s incredible! Wow. A real writer! Are you published? Wait, no—that’s a stupid question, it doesn’t make you any less of a writer if you’re not published, of course, and I know that there are some people who just write for themselves! Are you one of those?”

Roman couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the word-vomit. The man was looking at him, those big brown eyes wide and unfathomably earnest, and Roman’s heart felt a little melty all of a sudden.

“Don’t worry! I’m technically published, in the Almost town paper, so I have an audience of about twenty.” The man laughed, a light, bell-like sound, and Roman’s smile only grew wider. “But I’ve been trying to sell my creative work to actual publishers. You’re right, though—I do mainly write for myself, and what I’d want to read.”

“That’s such a great talent to have,” he sighed wistfully. “I’ve never been much of a writer—I’m more of a traveller, meet all the people I can, y’know? Gosh, don’t you think it’s crazy how every person you’ve ever passed on the street have their own lives that are just as complex as yours? That’s so much life!”

“So many stories,” Roman agreed, and the man nodded, the tuft of curly hair bouncing against his forehead. “That feeling’s called ‘sonder’, by the way.”

The man���s face lit up. “Really? I had no idea there was a word for it!”

Roman grinned. “Yeah, well…it’s funny, because when you live in a town as small as this, you never really get that feeling, because you already know who everyone is.”

“That’s true! I hadn’t thought of that!” The man paused for a moment, thinking. “What town is this, by the way? It’s not on my map.”

“Well, we call ourselves ‘Almost’, but it wouldn’t be on your map, because we’re not technically a town. To be a town, you’ve gotta be organized, and, well, we almost got around to doing that, but never did, so now we’re just ‘Almost’.”

That bell-like laugh again. “Well, it’s lovely up here. So much sky.” He gasped. “Oh! Where are my manners? Set up a tent on someone’s lawn and don’t even tell them your name! I’m Patton.”

“Patton,” Roman repeated, trying it out. It was a soft-sounding name, the kind of name that sounds familiar even when you’ve never met anyone else with it. It suited him. “I’m Roman.”

Patton smiled, and it was dazzling. “Nice to meet you, Roman.”

And for a moment, they stood in companionable silence, staring up at the sky and listening to the sounds of the midwinter night all around them, when suddenly Patton gasped, a ragged, shuddery breath that made Roman jump.

“I need that!” He yelped, pointing at his brown paper bag that had somehow found itself into Roman’s hands. Roman stared at it quizzically. He didn’t remember taking it.

“Oh, I’m sorry—“ he started, handing it back to Patton. He snatched it back and held it close to his chest, relaxing a little.

“No problem,” Patton replied, infinitely calmer than he was a second ago. Roman stared, bewildered. When Patton made no move to explain what had just happened, Roman cleared his throat again.

“So,” he started. “Where are you from?”

“Oh,” Patton started, and waved his hand around vaguely. “I wander a lot, you know, travel around, but my husband and I had an apartment in Colorado.”

“Oh, you’re married?” Roman felt the tiniest twinge of disappointment.

“Well, not anymore,” he responded. “We had been separated for about a year, but since he died recently, I’m here to pay my respects.”

“Oh,” Roman said dumbly, unsure of what to say at such a revelation. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Patton shrugged, but his eyes stayed trained carefully on the sky. “My mom used to tell me stories when I was little about how when you die, the northern lights are the pathway leading you to the afterlife. Like, the lights are the souls of the recently departed and all that. So I have to see the Northern lights, because that’s him.”

“Oh,” Roman repeated.

Patton glanced over at him sheepishly. “I know it’s silly.”

“No,” Roman blurted. “It’s not silly at all.”

Patton smiled then, a sweet, sad thing that made Roman feel warm from the inside out, like drinking a mug of hot chocolate or a bowl of his favorite soup on a cold day.

And then Patton gasped again.

“I need that!” he wheezed, clutching his chest and grasping at the brown paper bag that had, once again, inexplicably found itself in Roman’s grasp. “It’s—my heart, I need it, give it back—“

Roman practically threw the bag at him, and, once more, Patton’s expression settled immediately. He looked completely normal, if not a little embarrassed.

“Thanks,” he said, catching his breath. “Sorry.”

“Um…no problem,” Roman said belatedly. A thousand questions were firing in his head, and he grasped at them desperately, willing his voice to work. “Your heart?” he managed finally. “I’m sorry, is that what you—?”

“Oh,” Patton looked down bashfully, the embarrassed smile on his face contradicting the ever so slight waver in his voice. “Yeah. Uh…well, last year, I came home early from work, and found my husband in bed with someone else, and, well, when I saw, my heart just broke. Shattered. Into nineteen pieces.” He held up the paper bag and shook it. “Put it in here, and I’ve had to carry it around ever since.”

“Oh,” Roman began, unsure of how to respond. “I’m so sorry.”

“A few months later, he came back—knocked on my door, begging me to take him back, and—well, I’ve never had the easiest time saying ‘no’ to people, so telling him to leave was the hardest thing I’ve ever done…he was so upset that when he left, he didn’t notice the car headed right for him.” His voice broke off, and he lapsed into silence. “I can’t help but feel like I killed him.”

“No,” Roman said, with a conviction that surprised both himself and Patton. “Patton, I—I’ve only known you for ten minutes, and even I can see that you’re one of the most goodhearted people out there. It isn’t your fault.”

Patton hastily wiped a tear from his cheek. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…you must think I’m crazy, a strange man with a broken heart in a paper bag crying about killing his ex-husband on your lawn.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” And just like that, the bag somehow found itself in Roman’s hands again. He held it out to Patton. Patton hesitated.

“It’s never done that before.”

“Does it hurt?” Roman asked, suddenly curious.

“Sometimes. But in an empty way, like how your stomach hurts when you’re really hungry. Mostly, it just feels hollow.”

“Have you ever tried to…piece it back together?”

“Yes, but it’s never worked. Glue, tape…they don’t stick.”

Roman clutched the bag tighter. “…May I?”

Patton’s eyes grew impossibly wide, and he nodded haltingly. Carefully, Roman opened the bag, and peered into it. It looked like shattered red glass. He took out two pieces. He could hear Patton’s breath catch.

They sealed back together seamlessly.

They looked at each other in stunned silence. Patton held his chest, but he didn’t seem to be in any pain.

The Northern Lights exploded overhead. Patton gasped, and tilted his head back in awe. “Goodbye,” he whispered into the night.

He looked back down at Roman, who had found himself on one knee. He normally would have been mortified, but instead, all he could do was hold out the delicate glass heart, whole and lovely, to Patton.

He smiled tearfully down at Roman and laughed a bit. “And hello.”

[stardustsides]

Huh??? Why??? Not complaining, but very confused.

[stardustsides]

not strong enough by boygenius is so virgil coded